☆ Peter Quill ☆ Oneshots/Imagines

Keep Your Comments To Yourself

Peter refused to stop. The vulgar comments, the improper touching, the suggestive looks, it was driving you completely insane.

The first time it happened, he was co-piloting in the cockpit with Rocket. You strolled in, asking the raccoon if you were almost to your next destination. Jesus, you were in need of some fresh air, for the ship itself felt too confining. Rocket reassured you that you'd all arrive soon, however, it came out more like, "Quit your whining, we'll get there when we get there."

Rolling your eyes, you turned on your heel and went to exit. All you wanted was to get away from this cramped vessel, was that too much to ask?

"Hey, stay and sit for a while," Peter called, stopping you in your tracks. You swiveled around to see his usual shit-eating grin. "I got a special seat for you, right here," he said, patting his thighs. It totally caught you off guard, for this was the first time he'd ever said anything like this to you. You'd caught him looking at you a couple of times, but he never treated you like the girls he courted at bars. And everyone knew what happened to them.

Having no clue how to react, you just turned and continued on your way, knowing he saw your face flush. You heard him laughing to himself as you made you rapid escape.

But that was only the beginning.

The next day, you had spent about 15 minutes trying to reach a book that had fallen behind your bunk. You were bent over the edge, trying to reach it as best you could. However, your arms were too short and you tried stretching, arching you back to elongate as best you could. The sleek pages just barely brushed against your fingertips and you almost had it until a voice made you nearly jump out of your skin.

"I gotta say, (Y/N), I really like you in this position," it said, followed by a light smack to your ass. It was Peter. You scoffed at how ridiculous he was and stood up, getting right in his face.

"If you touch me like that again, I will not hesitate to cut off your hands and shove them

up your ass," you threatened, anger heavy in your tone. His eyes widened for a split second, then he smirked at you.

"Anyone ever tell you how sexy you are when you're mad?" he asked, leaning into you.

"Couldn't you be doing something better than running your mouth?"

"Well, there's a lot of other things I could be doing with my mouth..."

"Ugh, God," you groaned, disgusted, pushing past him.

A little while later, you were sitting in front of the monitor reading some statistics when something was shoved in your face, blocking your view. Sitting back a little, you recognized it as the exact book you'd dropped behind your bed. Fingers were attached to the spine and your eyes trailed up the arm and saw Peter looking at you with a sly grin as if he'd just done you the biggest favor in the world.

"Thank you," you muttered. Reaching for the book, he jerked it back close to him. You

got out of chair and went for it again. This time he held it high above your head, his arms longer than yours, which is probably how he got the book in the first place. "Peter, c'mon!"

"Ah ah ah," he tsked. "You gotta do something for me first." He tapped his index finger against his lips and puckered them slightly, indicating that he wanted a kiss. You rolled your eyes, but grabbed his leather jacket lapels and tugged him down to your slightly shorter level. You stared deep into his oceanic eyes. The closer you pulled him, and they fluttered closed and the more his body relaxed. Your lips barely brushed against his and he tried moving closer to break the barrier you were putting up, his arms dropping at his sides. That's when you stole the book out of his grasp and backed away before your lips could actually make full contact.