The Guardians Of Galaxy Needs Fucks Sometimes

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BC is sounding super self-important these days. Until Graduation reviews Kahlan is straight. The Amazing Spider-Man 2 Critics were kinder to this than it deserved. Got damn! Now he looks more and more like Emmanuel Macron, gives us an idea where both self-loathing douches are headed.

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He likes to think it's because of his superior biology and the genetic modifications that had been done to make him the way he is. Normally he hates them, feels the metal and gears and wires inside of him twisting like an intrusive parasite. He also thinks it might have something to do with the lingering effects of a massive adrenaline high brought on from nearly being killed more times than he can count in the past week.

He's not sure what to attribute it to, all he knows is that he hasn't slept and he needs to blame that on something. It's a hell of a lot easier to accept than the fact that he can't sleep because Groot is a twig and sleeping without Groot is damn near impossible. And yeah, he'll fight anyone and everyone who has something to say about it because it's none of their business what he does in his spare time.

So what if he sleeps with Groot? It's no one's business but his own. He's always slept with Groot, since almost before he can remember. He found Groot when he was still weak and raw and new, when the modifications to his body were only a few days old and the incisions were still covered in dried blood. He doesn't remember where he was or how he found him but suddenly Groot was just there, tall and looming and offering him shelter from the darkness and the horrors he had faced.

He was strong and stable, he didn't ask questions hard to do with a three word vocabulary and he let Rocket climb all the way up to the top so he was high and away and invisible in the tree creature's thick, knotted branches. He's slept with him every night since then because Groot keeps away the nightmares and Rocket doesn't feel like a monster when he's around him.

But he can't sleep with Groot now because Groot is little more than a stick and he's smiling and waving and alive in his pot but he's still a Goddamn stick and it's just not the same. Rocket keeps an eye on him constantly and in doing so forces himself to stay awake because he needs to protect Groot while he's growing and he can't sleep without him. It's making him twitchy and irritable though and he silently hopes Groot will grow just a little faster so he can finally get some sleep.

Peter finds out about his dilemma the hard way when Rocket nearly shoots him one evening after he bumps into him in the hallway. Peter is about to apologize and Rocket is about to pull the trigger and he realizes he may have a problem. It was an accident. Rocket grumbles irritably and shoves the gun back into its holster.

Hard enough movin' around in this junky ship without trippin' over you every other step. Peter looks mildly affronted but seems to realize Rocket's lashing out is less to do with running into him and more to do with something else. Peter is undeterred and simply holds his hands up again.

I was just asking. You seem kind of off and I was a little worried. Rocket sighs heavily and scrubs at his face with his paws. The lack of sleep is making him a bit more homicidal than usual and he supposes he can't be mad at Quill for worrying about him. Hell, he nearly shot the guy for asking if he was alright.

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He sighs again and shakes his head.

Makes me a bit twitchy, ya know? Peter frowns a little at the admission. Rocket grumbles a bit under his breath and nearly snaps at him again but decides against it. His barriers are down and he's exhausted and Peter is offering to listen to him without making fun of him so why the hell not? It might help to talk to someone else about his predicament and at least get some of it off his chest.

He figures fuck it, if Quill laughs at him he'll just shoot him in the kneecap and blame it on sleep deprivation. Rocket frowns and narrows his eyes. He'd been halfway expecting the human to make some kind of joke about the situation so when he doesn't he's not exactly sure how to react.

It's not that unusual to have a little bit of trouble adapting. Rocket thinks he really must be losing his mind at this stage of the game because his shoulders slump and he feels himself giving in to the gentle questioning. He refuses to meet Quill's eyes and the absent fidgeting helps take away some of the embarrassment at admitting all of this to another person.

When he's there I just…" he shrugs and shakes his head. It's stupid, I guess. You should have told us sooner. Rocket almost laughs at that. And what was I supposed to say, huh? I can't sleep because my best friend has been turned into a stick and I can't use him as my own personal dream catcher anymore? Peter just shrugs like the answer is obvious.

I mean if we'd known maybe we could have helped you out sooner. The other thief just shakes his head wearily. Peter is silent for a moment, contemplating something in the stillness of the hallway. Rocket's ears flatten slightly and he can't quite rope in the growl that rumbles out of his throat. I ain't about to share a bed with you.

No tellin' how many other things you've had in that room with you and I ain't about to get lumped into that category if I can avoid it. The human just rolls his eyes and lets out an exasperated sigh. This is my ship, not a den of ill repute. Second, the sheets are clean, I washed them yesterday.

And third, I'm trying to help you out here. You're obviously exhausted, you're about a split second away from shooting everyone onboard, and I can pretty much guarantee you're a lot safer bunking with me than you would be with Drax or Gamora. He shrugs and steps away, making his way down the hall toward his room.

My offer still stands though. And with that he's gone, disappearing around the corner and leaving Rocket standing alone in the hallway. The thief is torn between pissed off and indignant about Quill's offer or taking him up on it and following him into the room. He knows Quill is right about the sleeping arrangements; he's still a bit shifty around Gamora, her being a daughter of Thanos and all even though she openly disavowed him as a father every chance she got and he doesn't trust Drax not to freak out and stab him if the incentive was right so sleeping with Peter really was his best option.

Still, taking him up on his offer would be admitting defeat and he never had and never would willing do that. He sways just the tiniest bit in the hallway, fatigue and exhaustion finally catching up with him. He's dizzy and his limbs feel heavy and weighted and his eyes itch from lack of sleep.

Ugh, fine, what the hell, he'll take Quill up on his offer for this one night and maybe, just maybe he can get enough sleep to get him through the next few days without accidentally shooting one of his newfound teammates. He sighs and grumbles and bitches his way all the way down the hall but he does go and eventually finds himself standing outside of Quill's door.

He hesitates for a second or two, wondering if he's really going through with this or not, before he finally gives in and presses the button to slide the door open. Peter is stretched out along the bed, fully clothed thank God with those ever present headphones pressed against his ears.

His eyes are closed but he's mouthing along to the music playing through the Walkman so Rocket knows he's not asleep. He turns his head just slightly when the door opens and he sees Rocket walk in. Neither of them say anything and Peter just pats the mattress lightly with one hand.

Rocket grumbles some more before finally giving in and walking across the room. He drops his gun beside the edge of the bed and climbs up onto the mattress, reluctantly stretching out alongside the human. Peter scoots over just enough to give him a bit more room but otherwise he doesn't say anything. True to his word, Peter doesn't say anything about their sleeping arrangement the next morning.

He doesn't mention the fact that Rocket sprawls all over the bed like he's been tossed out of a moving ship or that the most comfortable way for him to sleep is draped across Peter's chest like a furry scarf, ringed tail flopped halfway over his throat. He doesn't mention the fact that sometimes Rocket twitches and stirs and whimpers in his sleep, snippets of memory from the things that had been done to him creeping into his nightmares and leaving him restless and agitated.

He doesn't say anything about how stroking the soft fur along his snout and between Rocket's eyes with his thumb calms him down and chases away the nightmares. And he certainly doesn't say anything about the fact that Rocket drools and it causes his fur to stick up weird in the morning and how Peter woke up with a cold, wet nose pressed into the underside of his jaw and Rocket was actually nuzzling him in his sleep.

He doesn't say anything about any of this because it's the first time Rocket has gotten any sleep in the past three days and he feels that if he brings it up then the fragile, awkward trust between them will be broken for good. Also, he fully believes Rocket's threat about shooting him in the dick.

Drax has bad nights sometimes. Sometimes he awakens with a jolt, blades lashing out and a broken cry on his lips. Sometimes he wakes up with arms outstretched for someone he just can't reach, gasping his wife's name or crying out for a daughter who is just a little too far away. Sometimes he just wakes up and stares at the ceiling for hours, jaws clenched and unshed tears shining in his eyes.

Those nights are the worst because he can't even bring himself to weep for his family anymore, all he can do is lay there and curse his continued existence with every breath he takes. Tonight happens to be one of those nights and he wakes up with a shudder and gasp, fists clenching tightly at his sides.

There's a very brief memory when he can see his daughter's face, hear his wife's voice when she's not screaming in pain. He wants to hold on to those memories for as long as possible because they're becoming fewer and fewer as time goes on. Peter is standing by the door, lingering just outside and peeking into the warrior's room.

He keeps his distance because the team has learned the hard way that getting too close to Drax whenhe's in the throws of a nightmare generally ends with one of them getting bloody. He doesn't mean it, he never does, but the knives he keeps with him are very sharp and the nightmares he has are very real. Sometimes he lashes out without realizing and it's only quick reflexes and sheer luck that keeps his teammates from being skewered.

He lets out a slow, steadying breath when he realizes it's just Peter, not the phantom of Ronan from his dreams. Peter shrugs and steps into the room, coming to the conclusion that Drax isn't about to gut him if he gets too close. Wasn't really feeling the whole sleep thing tonight anyway. Drax nods in understanding then, moving his legs to give the human more room. They'd all realized rather early on that Peter didn't exactly have boundaries and would invade the personal space of anyone who wouldn't immediately try to murder him.

He was all about playful shoves and casual touches and would lounge pretty much anywhere, especially on the ship. Drax didn't exactly understand it but it was oddly endearing in a way he found he didn't mind it particularly much. Apparently he's determined to make himself at home and Drax really doesn't have the energy to protest at the moment.

Upon Drax's perplexed expression, Peter waves off the statement absently. He glances back at him, taking in the warrior's stiff posture and the way he's still half-gripping one of his blades like he's still not entirely convinced he won't be using it anytime in the near future. Drax doesn't answer for a moment, choosing instead to slowly, very slowly, release his grip on the blade in his hand.

My failure and my defeat," he admits softly, eyes fixed on the gleaming metal of the blade. Peter listens quietly, eyes watching the warrior across from him. For all his rage and moments of madness, the pain of losing his family was still raw and present like a gaping wound. He was angry and impulsive, sometimes completely irrational and borderline suicidal, but Peter can't really say he blames him.

He remembers feeling like that after losing his mother. Drax shakes his head slowly. I do not know how to put it into words. Peter nods in understanding; he knows that feeling all too well. Right after his mother had died, when he'd been abducted from his home planet and whisked away to the furthest reaches of the galaxy, there wasn't a word in the English language he could think of the describe what he felt.

He was alone, in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people, and he had been more terrified than he could ever remember being in his life. He'd cried, lashed out, fought everyone who came close, but it never seemed to help. Gets your mind off things, you know? Drax contemplates his offer for a moment before nodding once in approval.

He's silent for a moment, contemplating his next words carefully. He's cautious not to cross the precarious line between trying to be helpful and outright intruding but he feels he should at least try to offer a solution, no matter how small. Really terrible things that would just wreck me for days.

Drax tenses across from him, fists clenching just a little and shoulders going rigid. But I found that it helped if I tried to remember her before she got sick. You know, happy memories to cover up the bad ones. For every nightmare I had, I did my best to replace it with something happy instead. The warrior nods slowly as he listens. I can understand why you would prefer to cling to more joyous memories rather than painful ones.

Peter glances back at him. Maybe remembering your family in better times would help override the nightmares you have. Drax frowns darkly and shakes his head. Peter shrugs slightly and crosses his arms over his chest. The tattooed warrior sighs heavily in acceptance. What are your recommendations? What was she like? She was intelligent and fearless and strong; incredible in every way.

I loved her from the moment I met her. A slightly wistful expression appears on the warrior's face and his posture seems to relax a bit as he speaks. Drax is silent for a moment, contemplating the question. When I was with her, I felt that I could never know a greater kind of love.

The smile remains but this time it's warmer, more gentle than Peter has ever seen. Through her, I found the true meaning of happiness. She had the strength to move mountains and I was completely at her mercy from the moment she was born. He looks away then, turning his attention to the distant stars glimmering outside the window.

The fleeting pain of death would mean little to me if it would offer me a chance to see my wife and daughter again. He glances down at the blades still only a few inches from his hands but he doesn't reach for them. Protecting other planets, keeping innocent families safe from monsters like Ronan and his kind…" he fades off and offers a small, sad smile.

Peter smiles quietly at the explanation and nods. I'm sure your wife and daughter would be very proud of your decision. The warrior tips his head slightly in acknowledgement. You are a good man and a reliable ally. I am grateful to call you my friend. The human smirks and nudges the tattooed man with his knee. No need to get all soft on me. The warrior sees to accept this without another comment and they fall into an amicable silence for a few moments.

I remember them from a time before Ronan and the destruction of my planet, I remember happiness and love and joy. Those are the dreams I hold on to. Those are the dreams I hope for. The silence between them stretches on a bit longer this time, the gentle rumble of the engines filling the void left by the lack of conversation.

Peter stares across the room to the twinkling cosmos passing by outside the window. Ever since their whirlwind meeting and their literal trial-by-fire-work-together-or-die partnership, Peter had made it a point to find out more about his newfound companions. He knows very little about them and is determined to change that even if it kills him.

He wants to find out more about Gamora's past, figure out where Groot came from, find the bastards who tortured Rocket for so long and put a boot up their ass. Speaking with Drax, listening to him talk about his wife and daughter, he thinks this is the most he's learned from any of them since they all met. He feels like in the silent stillness of the room, he can ask him about his home planet and his life before being sent to the Kyln.

He could find out more about his life, the meaning behind his tattoos, where the hell he'd learned to wield a knife like that. Asking those questions now would take away some of the pressure of asking them during the waking hours, when they're all alert and fully aware of the things being asked. He figures he has nothing to lose so he might as well ask now. The warrior is still propped against the wall, arms crossed lightly over his torso, but his eyes are closed and his breathing is deep and even.

His expression is more relaxed now, less strained and tense than it had been when Peter had first arrived. He looks at peace and there's almost the barest hint of a smile on his face. Peter hopes he's having better dreams now. He smiles faintly himself and gets a bit more comfortable against the wall. He's sure that if he moves now he could run the risk of waking the other man and if he is having happier dreams about his wife and daughter, he would hate to interrupt.

Peter tilts his head back, eyes growing heavier as they continue to track the stars outside. He finds Gamora sitting at the bottom of the stairs, knees pulled up to her chest and arms resting on top of them. She'd been noticeably quiet since they'd returned to the ship, preferring to isolate herself away from her teammates and venture into the lower levels of the Milano.

It was quiet down here, empty, a place for her to dwell on her guilt and shame in silence and away from prying eyes. Peter wasn't about to give her that luxury because she didn't deserve it, at least not in his mind. Gamora could hear a moth's wings from half a mile away, he was nearly sure of it.

She glances at him from the corner of her eye when he sits down though, her expression unreadable. Peter curses inwardly; he remembers that tone, she'd used it the first time they met and when they all got shipped off to the Kyln together. It was empty and emotionless, hollow words spoken from a dark, cavernous place deep within.

The assignment had been just short of a shit storm from the very beginning but it had gone from pretty bad to absolutely terrible in just under three seconds flat and Peter wanted to know why. Peter's not sure if he prefers that over the flat tone she'd been using before; when Gamora was irritated it usually ended in blood and bruises at the very least.

Peter weighs his options and decides not to push it. His eyes linger on the darkened skin beneath her eye, the small cut along her cheekbone. After everything that happened, he's mildly surprised that a black eye and a cut were the only injuries she sustained. It could have been much, much worse and the fact that Gamora let it happen in the first place was gnawing at him incessantly.

He'd actually been trying to figure out a more subtle way to breach the subject but the portion of his brain that controlled basic motor functions decided to hell with that and opted for the more direct route instead. It's around this time that Peter decides he's way too far down the rabbit hole already and he may very well lose a finger or possibly a hand for this but he presses on anyway.

He rolls his eyes and presses on. And yeah, sometimes we may have to talk about some pretty painful shit, but it's necessary to keep this partnership or whatever this is functional. Her glare continues but there's a very slight loosening of her shoulders, a slump that betrays the fierce look she's giving him.

She knows he's right but admitting it is something she'd rather not do. Give him that and it'll go straight to his head and she knows it. Finally she sighs quietly and looks away. Peter nods in agreement. You could have easily fought back, gotten free. Hell, you could have at least defended yourself. And I want to know why. She says nothing for several seconds but her eyes are dark and conflicted.

In a way, Peter thinks he already knows the answer. He knows enough about Gamora's past to know that she had been a highly regarded pawn in Thanos' games and that she had been forced to do her fair share of his dirty work while stuck in under his thumb. She blames herself for the atrocities Thanos had caused and the things she had done while under his control.

The people who had attacked her earlier were some of the few remaining survivors of a planet Thanos had destroyed years ago. The fact that said group had been off planet for one reason or another when Thanos made his move was the only thing that saved them. They weren't exactly thankful for this when they returned to find both their planet and their loved ones obliterated.

The survivors had developed a tiny community on the planet Peter and his group had touched down on and it hadn't taken long for them to pick Gamora out of the crowd. And, even though Peter was relatively certain Gamora had nothing to do with the destruction of that planet, the fact that she was associated with Thanos made her just as bad in the minds of the survivors.

Their attack was quick and coordinated for such short notice and Peter actually blames himself a bit for not realizing what was happening until it happened. The street they had been on was crowded and choked with people, many of them milling around and hovering near open doorways and side streets.

It was on one of the side streets that the survivors had planned their ambush. The crowd had swelled between them, separating Peter from Gamora, and he hadn't realized she'd disappeared until a few minutes later when he'd turned around to find her missing.

He was well aware that she could take care of herself but something about her disappearance set off warning bells in his mind and he backtracked quickly in hopes of finding her. He found her in an alley, surrounded by at least eight large, heavily armed men. They were snarling and growling at her, calling her names that would curl paint off the walls, and Gamora just took it.

She didn't try to fight back, she didn't defend herself, she just allowed the insults and curses they threw her way. Her expression had been one of quiet acceptance and resignation, as if she not only approved of this assault but also welcomed it. Even when one of them raised his weapon at her, she still didn't move.

Peter did though and he surged forward in an effort to dispel the ugly confrontation that was about to get worse in a hurry. He figured he could talk them down, work it out without the end result involving violence and murder. He was wrong; the men wanted blood, more specifically, Gamora's blood, and they wouldn't be happy until they had it.

Realizing this, Peter did the only thing he could think of: They got away from the alley and away from the men just as Drax and Rocket appeared with their bounty. Gamora said nothing about the encounter and pulled away from them on their way back to the Milano. She was quiet and rigid and disappeared into the depths of the ship the second they got back.

No one had bothered to talk to her for fear of having some bone in their body broken in the process. No one except Peter. He has her cornered now though and he's not about to back down if he can help it. Gamora is still hesitant but he'd pretty sure he already knows what she's going to say so he says it before she can.

Throwing yourself under the bus may seem like a good idea at the time but it doesn't solve much in the long run. Gamora scoffs quietly and rolls her eyes but allows him to continue. And sometimes it's hard to tell which is which. A heavy silence falls between them for a moment and Gamora takes a deep breath before she speaks.

They wanted to avenge their families and the homes they lost, everything that Thanos destroyed. They couldn't get to him but they could get to me and…" She fades off and shakes her head slowly, her eyes still dark and troubled. She looks at Peter then and this time the irritation from before is gone. I couldn't kill Thanos, that would have been impossible, but I could kill the scientists who experimented on me, the one who made me what I am today.

She shakes her head again, her jaws clenching a little. I destroyed them without mercy and without remorse because it was the only way to express my grief. There's a very tiny shrug of one shoulder before she continues. My hatred of him made only made him prouder of the killer I'd become.

She sighs and looks away, her shoulders slumping slightly. I knew their pain and anger, I understood why they wanted to hurt me because I had done the same thing when it happened to me. I did not crave their condemnation but I did understand it. Peter nods slowly when she finishes. He'd been expecting as much but he wanted to hear it from her before jumping to conclusions. He vaguely wonders if Gamora's guilt from her past actions will ever fully absolve itself but he highly doubts it.

To have everything you love be destroyed and then have the person responsible for its destruction use you as his own personal plaything None of it made sense to me and I lashed out because of it. One wrong word or a joke that went too far and I would just lose it.

But to me it made sense because I didn't know how else to react. And my mom, she just…" He sighs quietly and shrugs. She never got mad because I think she understood. And I mean, yeah, that didn't make it any better but she knew why I was acting out like that. He passes a hand through his hair awkwardly, ruffling it out of place.

And then she would tell me it was better to fight for the right reasons than to get beaten down for the wrong ones. I didn't really get it at the time but Gotta get the angle just right. Working on the right angle keeps Yondu distracted from the incessant buzzing of the vibe on his clit.

He can feel himself dripping, both his cock and his cunt, and his hips buck uselessly in spite of himself. So fucking hot, holy shit. Rocket stares down at him with an open mouth and dark eyes. Shove my cock in you as deep as it can go? Yondu nods, eyes prickling with tears. Yondu gags again, whining, and then finally, finally, the vibrator shuts off. He sucks in a heaving breath as soon as Rocket pulls out, gasping for air and ignoring the come dripping from his lips.

His voice is wrecked. He pushes the dildo in deep, just to make Yondu moan, and then pulls it out with a cheeky grin. He takes the cock ring off himself and then gets to his feet with a very different kind of groan. He glances up at Yondu. Yondu leaves him there, smiling as he stretches out on the bed. When Rocket finally climbs in next to him, he scoops him into his arms and lays him across his chest.

The last thing he registers before sleep takes him is Rocket leaning over to turn the troll doll around. Main Content While we've done our best to make the core functionality of this site accessible without javascript, it will work better with it enabled. Remember Me Forgot password? Guardians of the Galaxy Movies Relationship: See the end of the work for notes.

The kneepads are a nice touch. Yondu opens his mouth without thinking, which makes Rocket laugh. Rocket glances over at it and makes a face. Rocket lets his eyes slip closed. Hope this is what you wanted. Series this work belongs to: All fields are required. Your email address will not be published.

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He'd been halfway expecting the human to make some kind of joke about the situation so when he doesn't he's not exactly sure how to react. Desecrated By Temple reviews He shows up on her doorstep night after night, battered and bruised and tired from spending hours knocking people around and tying them up. Now they don't have an option. As if the Warriors of Chaos weren't already enough of a tip off to that. Using stealth? They are a constant thorn in the side of any Imperial organization in the Segmentum Pacificus or Interex Space, made even more annoying by the fact that they have a cell-like structure and through trial and error have learned to survive being cracked down on. Tamela True Blood - Rated:

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