#065 - My Kind Of Wonderful (Guardians Of The Galaxy Movieverse, Peter/Gamora, NC-17)
Title: My Kind Of Wonderful
Fandom: Guardians Of The Galaxy (Movieverse)
Pairing: Peter/Gamora
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 480
Warnings: Character spoilers for Guardians Of The Galaxy.
Challenge: #065 Walkman
There aren’t many people in the galaxy that Peter trusts with his Walkman. He’s stupidly protective of it, although he thinks he has the right.
Gamora’s one of those people, and damn she looks good with it. Wearing nothing but the headphones and a belt with the Walkman clipped to it, because he’s learned from experience that she likes her hands free for this.
Her hips sway, shoulders moving in time to the music as she pushes him back against his bunk. Not quite dancing, she’ll deny that it’s anything close, but it may as well be for the way it captivates him. It’s loud enough that Peter can hear the first few bars of You’re The First, The Last, My Everything start up, Barry White’s smooth voice sounding muffled and tinny as it leaks from the headphones. His foot jigs in time.
He grins up at her, and she looks down at him with bright and hungry eyes. Moving to straddle his face, and Peter groans as her knees sink into the pillow either side of his head. That first breath of her scent, her heat, it gets him every damn time.
Her hips begin to rock, fingers scratching at his scalp. It’s harder to hear the music now, but he knows it well enough to keep it playing in his head. Licking and kissing at her in time to the beat, humming a little because it makes Gamora twist and laugh and rut down against his mouth.
There’s a sharpness to her flavour, something a little citrus. It reminds Peter of orange slices, of chasing shots with alien fruits that aren’t quite limes but come close enough. Her pleasure is thick and strong on his tongue, and he grips her hips as she moves, chasing the taste.
The song picks up, and so do Peter’s movements.
He looks up the length of her body as she leans back, her hand braced behind her, palm pressing onto his chest. Angles her hips forward so he can thrust his tongue in deep, and this is why she likes her hands free, so she can slide one down and rub at her clit. Fucking herself on his mouth, working her fingers in tight and practiced motions, the same rhythm guiding them both, music in Gamora’s ears and Peter’s blood.
He can tell she’s getting close by the way her taste starts to grow more tart, by the way the bunk creaks beneath her knees. Peter smirks against her, and she feels the shape of his mouth, whacks him across the forehead with wet fingers. But they’ve got this down to a fine art, four and a half minutes of perfection, and Gamora reaches her peak as the final bars ring out, growling as she writhes over Peter’s face.
And that’s only the first song. They’ve got a whole mix-tape to go.
Fandom: Guardians Of The Galaxy (Movieverse)
Pairing: Peter/Gamora
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 480
Warnings: Character spoilers for Guardians Of The Galaxy.
Challenge: #065 Walkman
There aren’t many people in the galaxy that Peter trusts with his Walkman. He’s stupidly protective of it, although he thinks he has the right.
Gamora’s one of those people, and damn she looks good with it. Wearing nothing but the headphones and a belt with the Walkman clipped to it, because he’s learned from experience that she likes her hands free for this.
Her hips sway, shoulders moving in time to the music as she pushes him back against his bunk. Not quite dancing, she’ll deny that it’s anything close, but it may as well be for the way it captivates him. It’s loud enough that Peter can hear the first few bars of You’re The First, The Last, My Everything start up, Barry White’s smooth voice sounding muffled and tinny as it leaks from the headphones. His foot jigs in time.
He grins up at her, and she looks down at him with bright and hungry eyes. Moving to straddle his face, and Peter groans as her knees sink into the pillow either side of his head. That first breath of her scent, her heat, it gets him every damn time.
Her hips begin to rock, fingers scratching at his scalp. It’s harder to hear the music now, but he knows it well enough to keep it playing in his head. Licking and kissing at her in time to the beat, humming a little because it makes Gamora twist and laugh and rut down against his mouth.
There’s a sharpness to her flavour, something a little citrus. It reminds Peter of orange slices, of chasing shots with alien fruits that aren’t quite limes but come close enough. Her pleasure is thick and strong on his tongue, and he grips her hips as she moves, chasing the taste.
The song picks up, and so do Peter’s movements.
He looks up the length of her body as she leans back, her hand braced behind her, palm pressing onto his chest. Angles her hips forward so he can thrust his tongue in deep, and this is why she likes her hands free, so she can slide one down and rub at her clit. Fucking herself on his mouth, working her fingers in tight and practiced motions, the same rhythm guiding them both, music in Gamora’s ears and Peter’s blood.
He can tell she’s getting close by the way her taste starts to grow more tart, by the way the bunk creaks beneath her knees. Peter smirks against her, and she feels the shape of his mouth, whacks him across the forehead with wet fingers. But they’ve got this down to a fine art, four and a half minutes of perfection, and Gamora reaches her peak as the final bars ring out, growling as she writhes over Peter’s face.
And that’s only the first song. They’ve got a whole mix-tape to go.