Archive of Our Own ^beta

Propping your foot up on the crate in front of you, you fastened your boot closed before straightening. Exhaling a nervous breath, you reached up to run your fingers through your hair, you pulled it back to tie it away from your face. You heard the metal floors creak behind you, and you spoke without turning around. “Do I even want to know why the Ravagers had a uniform in my size? I’m not seeing a big female population on board.”

“You and Gamora would be the first on this ship,” Quill replied. You turned to face him, smoothing your hands down over the leather encasing your hips. “And you look a hell of a lot better in it than Kraglin does.”

“High praise,” you said, tugging on your hair to tighten the band holding it in place. “Actually, come to think of it, why the hell do you have a uniform here to fit Rocket? Dude’s a raccoon, for flark’s sake.”

Peter didn’t reply, his head tilted slightly to the side. You noticed his gaze fall lower, travelling slowly, pointedly over your curves. You rolled your eyes despite the immediate bloom of warmth you felt spread through you.

Raising a hand, you clicked your fingers in front of his face. “Hello? You in there, Space Cadet?”

Quill blinked, dragging his gaze back up to meet yours. A teasing, flirtatious smirk curled his lips. “I’m sorry. But it’s very hard to focus when you’re dressed like that.”

“Seriously?” you asked disbelievingly, glancing down at yourself. It was more form fitting that your usual t-shirt and jeans ensemble, but you hadn’t really thought anything of it. “Yondu just threatened to kill you and we’re about to go up against an interplanetary warlord, and you’re still thinking about sex?”

Quill shrugged, a self-deprecating smirk blooming on his lips. He closed the distance between the two of you slowly, taking ahold of your hips. “Guess I’ve got a one-track mind.”

You rolled your eyes at him, your own smile breaking over your features despite yourself as his hands slipped around to smooth over your backside. He pulled you closer, your hips bumping against his. Your hands moved automatically upward, and you rested them lightly on his shoulders. “Peter. Bigger issues.”

“We got time,” he replied, pressing his hips into yours teasingly. You could feel him harden against your thigh, and his hands squeezed your ass possessively. “Might as well use it creatively.”

“Funny how all your ‘creativity’ seems to result in nudity on my part,” you said snidely, sliding your hands up to wrap your arms around his neck loosely. “You might need to find a new schtick.”

“I thought you liked my ‘schtick’.”

“Ugh, Quill!” you scoffed at the lazily double entendre, shoving him away from you. Peter laughed, catching you around the waist and pulling you back against him. Your back met his chest, and your breath caught as you felt him press a hungry, open-mouthed kiss to the side of your throat. A taunting mix of tongue and the blunt graze of his teeth against your skin, it made a shiver roll up the small of your back, as did the way his hand travelled up your stomach to squeeze your breast through the supple leather of your outfit. “Peter…”

“Shhh…” he whispered; his breath hot against your flesh. His hand moved slowly, teasingly, sliding the zipper at the front of your suit down and slipping into your bra to clutch at your breast. “You’re gonna spoil the mood.”

“Asshole,” you bit back a moan as he pinched your nipple, turning your head to capture his mouth in a kiss. Quill returned it hungrily, sliding his tongue into your mouth.  You moaned into it despite your indignation as his other hand moved lower, cupping your cunt roughly through your clothes. The inelegance, the demand in his touch thrilled you despite your objections, and you felt heat rise in your chest as he led your hips back to grind against him. Quill groaned into the kiss as you bit his lip, his grip tightening on your breast for a moment.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

“And you’re still an asshole,” you retorted, and he snickered as you turned in his arms to face him again. Quill recaptured your lips, his hands taking hold of your waist. His mouth moved along your cheek to your jaw and down to the side of your throat, sucking a bruise into the sensitive skin over your pulse point.

He lingered there until your breath caught, then trailed his lips higher, catching them teasingly on your earlobe before speaking in your ear. You felt yourself shudder as his hand walked slowly up your torso to your zipper. Quill tugged it down at a glacial pace, his voice warm and gruff. “So, let me make it up to you then.”

Your hesitation lingered only until you felt his hand slide into your suit and over your stomach to curve against your ribs. “Fuck it. You have ten minutes.”

Quill laughed, unzipping your suit the rest of the way and shoving the sleeves of it down your arms. You echoed him, the sound catching in your throat as he shot you a cocky wink, turned you around, and bent you over the crates behind you. He smoothed a hand up the back of your thigh, and you shrugged off the sleeves of your suit. He tugged the whole thing down around your thighs as soon as your arms were free, heedless of the awkward way the leather hung around your legs.

Your chest met the storage crates as he bent you over further, his hand sliding between your legs. You moaned, and he pushed your underwear to the side.

“You know what one of the hottest things about you is?” he muttered, teasing his fingers along your cunt to circle your clit. You whined through gritted teeth, eyes closed. The heard the dull sound of his zipper being lowered. “The more you pretend to you’re not into it, the wetter you are.”

“God, you’re a dick—” you broke off with a drawn-out moan as Quill pressed his cock into you, his hand clutching at the swell of your ass as he filled you. “Fuck, Peter…”

His hand tightened painfully on your flesh as he withdrew and thrust into you again, hard enough to make the crates beneath you shake. You grunted as he did, bracing yourself on your elbows and shoving loose hair out of your eyes where it had come loose.

Quill didn’t pause, didn’t hesitate… apparently taking your time frame to heart. He fucked you hard, his fingers bruising your hips as he pulled them back to meet his thrusts. Your breath left you in a short, sharp moan each time he thrust into you, and he teased his hand over the side of your ass in approval, massaging the flesh of it.

His hand moved higher, a shiver following it up your back. You grinned, teeth digging into your bottom lip, as he wrapped your hair around his hand and jerked your head back. It forced your back to arch, and he pushed deeper into you. You moaned, eyes rolling back. When you reached back to grab at his hip, he took hold of your arms, pulling them back behind you. Your chest met the crate inelegantly, your cheek pressed against it, as he trapped your wrists against the small of your back.

“Ass—hole—”

“You’re so hot when you talk dirty, baby.” he laughed, his voice tight with arousal.

“Go fuck yourself, Quill.”

“Right after I’m finished with you,” he replied easily. “God, you’re mean to me.”

“You… you love it.”

“I do,” Quill said with a groan. He released your wrists, hands returning to your hips. He guided you into pushing back into him, and you braced yourself on your hands, fingers tightening painfully on the edge of the crate. “Do it more.”

You choked on a laugh, arms shaking as Quill’s hand snaked around between your legs and found your clit. “You’re running out of time, Star Lord.” your voice broke in a whimper as he circled it roughly, pinching it between his fingers. “Tick-tock.”

“Oh, now you’re asking for it,” he almost growled the words, and you jerked under his touch as his other hand pressed against the small of your back, pinning you in place against the crate. Unable to move your hips aways from his fingers, from his cock, you felt the stimulation all of a sudden too much, and you cursed as you came, drawing out his name in an almost pornographic moan.

Quill’s thrusts had become almost desperate at the sound of his self-imposed moniker, and he groaned as you tightened around him, pulling out of you just before his own orgasm hit. You could feel yourself twitch as he smoothed a hand up your thigh, and you exhaled as you straightened cleaning yourself up before pulling your suit back up and shrugging it up onto your arms.

You turned to face Quill as he tucked himself back into his pants, and your eyes widened. You smacked him hard in the chest. “You left the door open?!”

“Ow!” he flinched away from you childishly, and you smacked him again.

“Private moments, Peter! Private.”

“I didn’t want to waste any of time!” he argued defensively, but you saw the corner of his lips twitch upward in a smirk.

“You suck, Peter.”

“Maybe later,” he joked back. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve got a lot going on right now. Honestly, your priorities—”

“I will hit you again.”

“Noted.”