#quillsworld!

[murdrdocs]

explicit sexual content MDNI

you know when you’re laying in bed on your stomach, scrolling through your phone, one leg bent at the knee in a 90 degree angle and the other outstretched completely? yeah thinking about being used in that position.

your shorts are already tiny enough to barely cover much when you’re standing and walking around. so when you’ve been laying down for nearly an hour now, rolling around in search of the perfect position for your mindless scrolling, the fabric has ridden up to cut between your cheeks, exposing the bottom of them.

subsequently, your shirt has lifted, exposing your sides and back, and although so much of you is covered, it appears the opposite.

he feels as if it’s the opposite.

laying beside you on his side, no longer focused on whatever he was supposed to be doing before your figure caught his eye. he’s been silent for a while, letting his eyes rake over your figure. letting the sight of you relaxed like this entice him. convince him that he needs you.

which, with the way you’re laying, legs already spread and inviting him in, he thinks you feel the same.

he starts off casual, innocent. he lets you warm up to his touch.

you hum a little appreciatively whenever his hand lays flat against the exposed skin of your back. your hips wiggle a bit when his palm glides down to rest over your ass. your legs spread more whenever his large hand situates itself between your legs, fingers resting against the taut crotch of your shorts.

you don’t tell him to stop. you don’t tell him to keep going. but your back arches and you move just a little closer.

your head, previously having been faced the opposite direction, turns to look at him once he starts to trace the outline of you with a light touch. barely enough to provide stimulation, but the memory of what he could do to you is what drives you to want more. not the preview of what will inevitably come to be.

you watch him, he watches you, and then you reach down to slide your shorts and panties off in one motion. you go to change positions, too, maybe lay on your back to give easier access, but he shakes his head and kisses his teeth.

“back on your stomach. like before.” it’s a request, there’s room for denial, but with the speed at which you follow it, it could easily have been identified as a command instead.

either way, you end up just as you were before. your eyes flutter shut at the first touch. firmer than before, but still gentle in nature, once more a glide through your slit before ending at your entrance.

by the time he has two fingers buried in you, you’ve thrown your leg over his hips and dug your nails into the forearm not flexing with the effort of fingering you. you’re watching him again, but he’s focused on your cunt swallowing his digits this time, the lewd sounds of it all echoing around the bedroom now that the clacking of your nails against your phone screen isn’t present.

he seldom blinks. his lips are parted, gentle breaths leaving them periodically, and if your own lips weren’t so preoccupied with spewing out thankful praises then you would’ve kissed him.

the heel of his palm digs into your ass as he crooks his fingers a little more aggressively. he searches for a second, eyebrows furrowing in determination, and you do your part by lifting your hips and twisting them a little and then there. there it is.

your hips are already lifted so it makes it all the more easier to slide your hand down and press against your clit when he tells you to.

after that it doesn’t take long. just a little while longer and your toes are curling and your back is arching and you’re burying your face into the pillow beneath you.

his fingers stay within you at first, pumping at a more languid pace, and then once you’ve stopped twitching he pets your head soothingly. he peppers kisses into your scalp, and your eyes are suddenly heavier than they were previously.

you peel your head out of the pillows to ask him, “what was that for?”

he pulls you closer into his side with one hand, urging you to press your back to his chest.

“those little shorts.”

[murdrdocs]

big, broad, corn-fed half-god peter quill DEFINITELY has a size kink and you cannot tell me any different

i wont tell u any different bc ur right.

he's so big and broad and buff and he knows this. he's always flexing, just to get on your nerves, or talking about how he could easily overpower you, again, just to get on your nerves. and you pretend to be uninterested, rolling your eyes, scoffing, punching his shoulder which does absolutely nothing.

but when it comes down to it, you love the way peter has so much strength over you. you're obsessed with it, but not nearly as much as him.

he's teasing you, pouting and running the leaking head of his cock up through your folds. "don't think it'll fit. what'd you think, babe?" he's always commenting on how much smaller you are when he's driving into you, pulling little squeaks from your parted lips. "look at that, tiny little thing managed to fit me."

he loves to bend and fold you however he sees fit. pressing you into a counter while he holds your hips still, keeping you secure against him. "no, no, no, no. don't try to run away, sweetheart." there's this one time where he just can't get enough of you, originally fucking you in casual missionary that turns into him pulling you into his lap, your legs held open by both of his hands, most of your weight on your upper back. he openly marveled at how open you were for him then, thinking about how you were so much smaller than him, so much weaker, that you practically had to bend and turn however he wanted you to.

but his absolute favorite way to have you is in a mating press, legs pushed back against your tits by his strong arms, the ones that you hold onto, your nails digging into his skin while your cunt is forced to swallow all of him.

[murdrdocs]

peter quill who SWEARSSSS he’s going back to earth to be with his grandparents

peter quill who SWEARS the hickeys he has arent from you

peter quill who SWEARS he’s not falling for the earth girl he had sex with

peter quill who SWEARS he’s not pussy whipped

peter quill who gives you the best dick of ur life

because yeah, things changed, years passed, and peter softened his heart for one person in particular, but peter quill is still peter quill and he has thought of all the earth girls he's missed out on all these years.

he's going to see his grandfather. he's going to rekindle the relationship that's practically nonexistent at this point. he's going for family. but then he sees you on a grocery run with his grandfather one day and you wave politely at jason and peter's brain short circuits for a second before he's asking his granddad who was that, still thinking about your smile and your exposed legs in the spring heat.

peter quill is on earth to see his grandfather. but it's not like he's going to deprive himself of a bit of fun while he's there. drinks shared, 80s rock belted into the thick, pungent air of a bar, hands roaming bodies, lips against skin, and suddenly peter is in your bed, still trying to convince himself that he's only on earth for family, even when your head is on his chest and you're showing him some show that he's missed out on in the last 30 years.

he doesn't try to avoid you, but you're both busy adults (peter is busy ... ish) and you aren't talking all the time. you meet every so often, usually sex starting and ending the night, until the sex just starts or ends the night, until there's barely any sex and more so something peter hasn't felt in years.

but the sex is so fucking good. something you've never felt before, which you tell him in a tipsy haze while peter's bouncing you on his cock. he smiled arrogantly at you then, one of his hands slinking up to wrap around your throat securely, and other sleazy guys have done that to you before, making you feel uncomfortably owned and a little unsafe. but when peter does it, you moan louder and your walls squeeze around his cock and peter really loses himself in it then.

then there are the mornings after where his granddad calls your house from the landline, asking if his grandson is there, and you look at peter sitting at your dining room table, eating a bowl of cinnamon toast crunch, your own identical bowl next to it. and when you turn back to the phone, confirming jasons suspicions, peter can hear the teasing lift of his granddads voice from afar and his ears redden just a bit but then he looks over at you, wearing one of his shirts, those same tantalizing legs on display, and peter starts to consider that maybe he came to earth for this, too.

[murdrdocs]

slightly short tempered peter quill.

he’s usually calm and understanding, especially with you, since you’re practically the light of this new life that he has grown accustomed to on earth. but at times he can’t help it.

like whenever you’re working on something that does not require as much attention as you’ve been giving it. he’s been sitting behind you, trying to be patient, twiddling his thumbs and tapping his foot as he attempts to watch whatever show is on to pass the time. he’s already tried to coax you into joining his side for the past hour or so, but you keep brushing him off with curt, “i’ll be right there”, only to spend the next ten minutes hyper focused on your task of the night.

eventually, he’s had enough and he tells you, “baby, get the hell over here”.

there’s slightly too much bark in his tone, and you look back at him with an unreadable expression, the first time you’d spared him a glance in the last half hour. he’s quickly adding a small “please” to try and soften the blow, but it’s not needed as his firm tone is what made you stand from the floor and saunter over to him in the first place.

the plea just made you walk faster.

[murdrdocs]

ahhhhhhhhahahahhahaha sitting on quill’s face just to get him to shut up >>>>>> literally will be thinking about that for the rest of the day goddamn

but also he’s def holding onto your thighs so tight you get bruises because he needs you as close as possible, like he’d die a happy man if he suffocated between your thighs

no bc quill is a certified yapper especially when he’s around you. he gets so eager and happy that he starts commenting on how people see colors differently just so he can engage in conversation with you. and sometimes he doesn’t know when to stop so he’s talking your head off as you’re shedding your clothes and stripping down to absolutely nothing in front of him. it gets to the point where you don’t even know if you’re going to get fucked by him if he doesn’t finish his spiel about how there’s no great movies these days, leaving you to take matters in your own hands and climb atop him, scaling his body until you’re hovering over his nose.

and people say this a lot to everyone under the sun. “i’ll happily die between your thighs”. but quill absolutely means it. he’s sacrificed himself for his family many times before and he figures this is no different. if he happens to pass away while pleasuring you, something he knows how to do best, then he thinks he would be a happy spirit.

[murdrdocs]

giving peter quill head !!!!!

giving peter head is something that makes my head spin.

because he's so encouraging. if you're nervous, or if your gag reflex is more persistent than ideal, he's gently helping you throughout the entire thing, making sure this is something you wanna do, helping you out even whenever the tip of his dick is nudging against the back of your constricting throat and he's breathing heavy as he tries to maintain his composure.

quill will always praise you, no matter what, as he knows what it does for you and him. so when you have your lips wrapped around his cock, your eyes big, watery, almost unblinking as you stare up at him, he can't help but let slurred praises slip from his lips.

"there you go, just like that, sweetheart. fuck, you're doing so well, honey. look so pretty with your mouth wrapped around me."

and there, of course, are the times where you've got it handled on your end –– breathing through your nose, clenching your thumb in your left hand, swallowing every so often –– so you pull off of him, holding his dick in your right hand as you take a big gulp of air and gently smile up at him. "you don't have to hold back, peter. i can take it."

peter stares down at you, the corner of his lips pulled into a smile, his eyes widening just a bit as he really takes in what you're proposing. and then he leans down, kisses you twice, and lets you reposition your mouth around his cock, giving you a second, before he holds onto the sides of your head and begins to fuck your mouth.

[murdrdocs]

peter quill LOVES cumming on faces in the essay im going to be

oh for sureeee

he likes "marking his territory", like a fucking dog. his cock in your mouth, forced down your throat, and it feels so euphoric for him. you can tell he's enjoying it, his eyes staring down at you, swears leaving his lips, hips snapping as he fucks your face. and as he gets closer, his tongue gets looser. "fuck, you look so pretty taking my cock in this pretty mouth, baby." his hand squeezes your cheeks, hallowing them out around his cock, and his head throws back with a chesty moan.

he knows that you would want to let him cum in your mouth, maybe a prideful thing, but he pulls out of your mouth when his hips start to stutter just a bit. his hand wraps around his cock, he holds you still with his hand on your cheeks, and your eyes close as you brace for impact, flinching with the first rope, but relaxing as they continue.

and it's a sight that peter desperately wants to photograph, something to keep in his wallet maybe.

[murdrdocs]

virgin!reader x peter quill would be just absolutely amazing in every way

man he would tease you just a bit, like the tiniest amount, just to see you smile and roll your eyes, and to help ease your nerves ("you've never had sex before? are you sure because the way you sucked me off last night says otherwise"). but then when it comes down to penetrative sex, he's sweet and caring, his rough hands the softest they've ever been as they run along your skin.

he's always loved kissing you all over, but he pays extra attention to your body when he does it then. it's just small presses of his lips against your skin, no sucking or biting (he might bite the inside of your thigh, just cause). and when you finally have your legs open, ready to take peter's cock, his voice is loving as he encourages you through it.

"just relax. don't even focus on how it feels yet, okay? soon you'll feel so good." "that's it, there you go, you're taking me so well."

but peter quill is peter quill and he can't live without dirty talk, usually in the form of stating facts about his surroundings. "this pussy's taking me so well. fuck. 's fucking perfect, sweetheart. sucking me in like you were made for me."

he focuses on you, angling his cock to find the places that make your back arch, using his fingers to pinch and squeeze your nipples and massage your clit, kissing your skin even as he fucks you as he knows it riles you up.

and cumming around peter's cock is so fucking addicting that a few hours later, when you're showered but still wearing peter's red shirt, you're straddling his lap, welcoming his hands on your almost bare thighs, smiling sweetly at him to try to tell him that you want to go again, and again, and again.

[murdrdocs]

peter quill and mutual masturbation ‼️

something that you two do because you both wanna see each other get yourselves off. it's a little niche, and a little random, brought up during a sex scene deep into the depths of movie night, when you've both had too many slices of pizza and a little too much to drink. but it's something neither of you forget, or ignore, as the days follow.

you actually decide to act on it one night, leading to you sat back on the bed, legs spread, fingers forced as deep into your cunt as possible, gaze turned up to watch peter's eyes, although he's focused on the entire scene in front of him. your moans are a little louder than they would be, a cause of a mix of wanting to put a show on for peter, and just because the situation amplified everything for you. seeing peter fist his cock, unspoken questions if he does this when you're not there, probably thinking about you, and unspoken desires of wanting peter's cock in you, somewhere, anywhere.

but this was your idea as much as it was his, and the sight of peter standing in front of you with your saliva helping his fist glide over his dick is so addictive that you don't know if you'll ever have enough.

peter's free hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb running along the area. "you're so pretty, sweetheart. don't know how we've never done this before."

you're too focused, and tired, to respond, only little breaths leaving your lips and you hope that'll suffice for him. apparently, it does, because he leans down and presses his lips to yours, kissing you lazily, leading you through the motions whenever your lips cease movement.

with his forehead pressed against yours, his eyes staring deep into you, he asks if you're close. you nod, eyebrows pinching together as you work yourself with just a little more effort. "good, just hold it for me, okay, sweetheart? just a little longer."

and it hurts, it's rough, you can feel it wanting to come to low in your belly, but peter manages to wedge his free hand to your clit and you would admire his ability to effectively multitask if it weren't for the way his tight circles were pushing you to the edge.

"just a second longer, honey," he reassures you, and slightly longer than a second passes but then he's giving you the go-ahead to let go, and you do, essence flowing out around your fingers just as peter spurts warm cum along your lower belly. 

the come down happens quick, peter lying on the bed in the moments, pulling you close to him even with his cum on your belly. it sticks you two together where you connect, abdomen to abdomen, and even if you wanted to pull away, you wouldn't be able to with his strong arms wrapped around your waist.

he kisses your forehead, rubs his hands along your lower back. "think that's the hottest thing i've ever seen," he admits, continuing when you laugh a little, slightly too embarrassed to say anything, embarrassment which increases tenfold with his next words.

"how do you feel about recording that for me?"

[murdrdocs]

Sex with Farmer! Peter while watching the sun sets on your wrap around porch. THEN having domestic aftercare on the porch swing looking at the stars while he casually points out places he’s seen/saved <3333 ps. he is filling every crevice of my brain!

7 o'clock | p. quill

description. domesticity with quill comes easy, but that doesn't mean you take it for granted

includes. SMUT 17+, doemstic!quill, loverboy!quill, unprotected p in v sex

a/n: thought i wrote this but i just did extensive notes so here we are a month later. also written super quick so ... + wasn't meant to be nearly this long

word count: 1.3k+

you've been sitting in the same spot for so long that the indent your butt had created had gone from being comfortably molding, to flat without enough padding.

you shuffle to the other side, taking your mug and book with you, just as peter comes out of the backdoor. he huffs as he sits in the spot you'd previously sat in, and you watch over your book as he twists and repositions, until his green eyes turn to look at you knowingly, a half smile on his lips.

"you left this seat all dented on purpose." a statement, but your head still shakes.

"i swear i didn't!" but it's funny to see his visible discomfort. he shakes his head, faux disappointment all over his face, and he scoots closer to you, hands reaching out to your waist to force you up out of your seat.

you don't protest, moving with him instead of against him, until your bum is seated on the couch, and everything from your mid-thigh down is tossed over peters legs.

the two of you sit like that for a while, screened in back porch preventing any bugs from bothering you in this bliss. you share the contents of your mug, hot tea to soothe the small throat ache you'd had recently, and peter didn't like hot tea at all, but he was far too lazy to go back inside and get iced tea.

you read your book, quill sits and enjoys the comfort of nature, and it's peak domesticity. it's simple, innocent almost. until you finish a lengthy chapter and your eyes need some rest, so you put the book down, finish the contents of your mug, and cuddle into peter's chest instead.

with where the couch is seated, you have a perfect view of the steadily setting sun behind the trees. you watch it for a while, appreciating the beauty of the life you've been given, and then quill takes a deep breath and he kisses your cheek, then your jaw, then down your neck.

"love this dress on you," he compliments, fingers rubbing the fabric between them, not-so-subtly inching it up as he does so. you hum in appreciation, going to remind him that he brought it for you, but he's speaking before you can. "love it even more off of you, too."

a little laugh from you because of course that's where he was going with this. you don't even have it in you to protest as one hand slides under your dress, running along your thighs, and the other slides up the corseted top to cup right under your tits, large palm eventually engulfing your breast securely.

it's not long until the straps of your dress are down to give peter access to nip at the tops of them, and your dress is bunched up around your waist, panties pushed to the side so peter's fingers can stuff themselves into your cunt. you're thankful for the prep, you truly are, but you're so desperate in this moment that peter's only a few thrusts in before you're quickly fumbling for his belt buckle, nimble fingers undoing it and popping the button of his pants shortly after, zipper easily following.

you go to straddle him, face-to-face, but quill stops you with a strong grip on your hips.

"uh-uh, other way." you look at him, brows furrowed, a little puzzled, until he clarifies. "can't have you missin' a sunset this pretty." a kiss to the corner of your lips and your eyes roll but you appreciate the sentiment either way, doing what he says and turning yourself around.

you hold onto peter's wrists as he does most of the work, hips pushing up to meet yours with steady thrusts. you'd fucked him this morning, too, but you're still close sooner than expected. something you would've been embarrassed about if it didn't show just how attracted to him that you were.

a breeze blows across your skin, the surrounding air holds a heat that's welcomed more than it's cursed, and you smell nature dirt and musk that blends well with his cologne. you hear the wet sounds of your cunt sucking him in again and again, your moans, and his encouragements.

"you don't gotta do all the work, baby. let me take care of you. jus' relax, look at the sunset, just like that. that's a girl. touch yourself for me." and you do as told, pulling a hand away from his wrist to slide it under your dress and rub it along your clit. your other hand grips his skin aggressively, nails digging into the flesh, but peter doesn't complain.

instead, his hips speed up a little more and he pulls your back to his chest, lips pressed to the shell of your ear as he talks you over the cliff, and then he parts his lips and lets you hear his own pleasure as he cums, lips puckering to place kisses under your ear while the both of you come down.

you catch your breath, rise off of peter's cock, and look over your shoulder.

"when's the last time you checked on dinner?"

he looks at the watch on his wrist and you visibly see the way his eyes widen, a smile already forming on your lips.

"uh ... i'll be right back, honey."

you have just enough time to murmur a little "uh huh" before he's gently setting you to the side, pressing a kiss to your temple, and all but running into the house.

you head after him, book and mug in your hand, cum still dripping down your inner thigh, and you make a pitstop to set your items down before heading to the bathroom, cleaning yourself up, and then leaving for the front porch this time.

the sun's set now, stars starting to become visible by the time peter comes out. he's juggling one loaded plate and two glasses when he does, a smile balanced perfectly on his face when he makes it to you.

you inspect the contents, surprised that nothing's burnt, even going to comment on it.

"you can't burn a pot roast, honey."

you shrug, taking the plate in your hands. "pretty sure you've done it before, pete." a halfhearted grumble from him and he's sitting down beside you on the porch swing, passing you the glass of sweet tea when you request it. the two of you sit in comfortable silence, the wind carrying you to and fro as you eat off of the same plate, and share the same space.

when it's finished, and peter has it set down on the coffee table, he has you pulled back into his side, your head resting against the soft cotton of his plaid button up, and then he starts to talk.

"been there, and there too. that one was ... a doozy. if i'm thinking about the right planet." you watch him in awe, squinting to try and decipher which of the tiny specks he was referring to.

"maybe we should get a telescope. one of those real fancy ones," you suggest, ecstatic whenever he agrees.

"and that planet right there; most fun i've ever had. the mission was a mess, rocket kept fucking it up and drax wasn't any help either but afterwards they threw us a massive parade, i'm talking biggest parade ever, honey. got the whole planet involved it was a wild time."

you smile softly, enjoying the way his face lights up as he recounts his time in space. he eventually looks down at you, same look of love written all over his features as he kisses the tip of your nose, your eyes fluttering shut with the simple moment.

"think you'd ever like to come up there one day?" he asks you.

you shrug, taking a moment to think about it before verbally delivering your answer. "maybe ... as long as you'll protect me, star lord." a cheeky smile on your face as you purr the nickname.

peter's smile is boisterous and he hugs you into his side just a little bit tighter.

"always."

[murdrdocs]

no but peter quill just being a good fuck. idc he looks lazy but he's not!!!!!

my guy would make you go through rounds until he was done

multiple rounds is his thing for sure. and not even like back to back in one sitting, which you think would be less tiring than how peter prefers it.

maybe twice in bed, once with his head between your legs and another with his hips snapping into yours. then once in the shower, his wandering hands excused by his words, "just wanna help you clean up, honey" but you didn't really need cleaning from the inside out. and then he's kissing and teasing you while you get ready, trying to rile you up for another. later that evening, he has hands between your legs while you stand in the kitchen, his body flush against yours from behind, one hand on your hip, the other forced down your open jean shorts, his head resting on your shoulder as he whispers encouragement. and then a final time that night, where you initiate it, still somehow craving him even after all this time.

[murdrdocs]

quill is BIG on calling you darlin'

no cause like

maybe it started as a joke at first, a nickname he didn't truly mean to start using but it just slips out the first time and he likes how it sounds and he likes they way you smile when he says it so he's slipping it into conversation more often, the nickname added to the rotation of other nicknames he uses.

"come here, darlin'," when he's reaching for your waist, pulling you in to dance with him.

"that feel good, darlin'?" when he has a hand between your legs, eyes watching every minute expression that crosses your features.

[murdrdocs]

peter christening the pick up truck with the read please 🥹

yup yup !!

you should've known that with peter, he wasn't just taking you for a ride in his new-old truck. leading you outside with a makeshift blindfold in the form of his rough hands, rubbing your shoulders with your chest to his back while he asked if you wanted to go for a ride, playing fleetwood mac while the wind blew against your face; it was all sweet and romantic and it made you feel giddy.

but a different sort of giddy that you felt now, sitting with your legs folder under you in the seat of the cab, your hands on peter's strong shoulders while you kissed him. he pulls away for a second, kissing at your jaw. "need you to help me with something," he murmurs against your skin. you hum, prompting him to continue.

"truck doesn't feel right, don't you think?" it felt fine to you. drove nice, the cassette player worked, there was no problem with starting it up, so you shake your head. peter laughs lowly, placing a final kiss into your jaw before he pulls back to look at you completely.

"no, 's not what i mean, honey. i mean, it feels too new," it was 40 years old, "doesn't feel right if my girl hadn't came in it."

your eyebrows raise, eyes widening just a bit, lips curling into a smile that you try to force down. you want to try to pretend to be uninterested, but the day is so perfect and this moment is so perfect and peter always knows how to get you.

"you mean it needs christening?" your head tilts with the question, your lips spreading into a grin whenever peter nods.

which leads you to lifting your skirt enough to allow peter's fingers to slip into your walls, curling and reaching inside of you for the places that make you weak, massaging the gummy spots whenever they're found. your nails dig into peter's shoulders, your head tilting back between your shoulder blades as you unabashedly moan out your praises, letting peter know how good it feels without any shame nor need to quiet yourself, one of the many perks of the location of your home. peter kisses at your neck, small bites here and there between words of encouragement from himself.

"feels good, honey? yeah? that's good 'cause i need you to cum for me, okay? just wanna make my girl cum all over these leather seats. won't be the same without it."

[murdrdocs]

"or for cupping your mound and forcing you to grind against his hand to get yourself off."

you should def expand on that

listen ,,, there's two ways this could go:

the first is your doing. when you've been nothing short of a brat, purposefully getting on peter's nerves because you thought he would fuck your brains out. which, he still might, but for now he just has his big hand cupping your mound, and his eyes stare into yours, only his have nothing but cruel entertainment written in them and you imagine yours are the exact opposite. "you gonna take what you wanted or what?" he asks, pressing his hand further into you with a slight tilt of his head. you groan and pout. "didn't want it like this, peter." but he doesn't care one bit (he cares a little, always getting a little sappy when his girl pouts), only going to take his hand away but your fingers wrap around his wrist and suddenly you're grinding.

the second is his doing. he's a massive tease, and he loves to rile you up, only to deny you what you wanted at the last minute. hand between your legs, panties and pants discarded, and he's so close, fingers reaching for your entrance, but each finger connects to the other and then he just cups you, like he's holding his hand out for something, and your head tilts, eyebrows furrowed. "you didn't think i was gonna make it that easy for you, did you?" his lips curl up like you're missing out on a joke. "a little hard work and effort wouldn't kill you, would it?"

[murdrdocs]

no but quill is also into degrading you for wanting him so badly too!!!!!

but can he blame you? he's literally almost always touching you

ugh when you finally reciprocate his "innocent" touches, leaning into it, hand steadily sliding down his chest to lead to his pants, kisses quickly becoming more and more desperate.

he'll pull away, looking down at you with that stupid smug look that you hate so much that you love it. you lick your lips, furrowing your eyebrows, trying to resist the urge to kiss that idiotic look away from his pretty face.

and then his mouth opens and you have an image of punching him in the gut when you hear what he says. "someone's eager, huh?"

you roll your eyes, reaching up to kiss him again, but he leans back. you pout, squinting up at him.

"peter, what the hell?" his hand comes to the one you have on his lower abdomen, pressing against the back of your hand, keeping it securely situated there.

"uh-uh," he shakes his head, stupid smirk still on his lips. "not gonna make it that easy for you, sweetheart." even though he was the one to start this whole ordeal, continuously leaving you with fleeting touches that usually are no where near fleeting. usually, those sort of touches led you here, but into the next steps, not halted.

"what do you mean you're 'not gonna make it that easy'?"

he leans down just enough to invade your space, then he says: "beg."

you almost laugh in his face. instead, you stare at him, eyes wide, jaw slack, tongue starting to poke around your cheeks.

"come on, i know you can do it." his other hand, which rests on your hip, slides around to wedge itself into your undone pants, thick fingers sliding against the crotch of your panties, clearly feeling how wet you already are. although you're the one being played with, peter hisses. "already so wet? from nothing? just a little pathetic, don't you think? and you won't even beg for it. it's like you don't even want me."

faux hurt crosses his face for a second, before that shit eating smirk is back.

"fuck you," is all you can really say. peter shrug, lips quirking down for a split second.

"maybe you can. if you beg."

[murdrdocs]

farmer life with peter quill.