Dating Mantis Quill would include…

Touch! So much touch. Not just because of Mantis’ powers, but because she genuinely loves having you. She likes to know that you’re real and not some weird shape-shifting monster that could hurt her. She likes to awe over every aspect of you. Your skin, your hair, your eyes; she loves it all! She’ll ramble while pointing our your differences. “You don’t have my antennas, but you’ve got such pretty rings of colors around your eyes!” Things as simple as that.

Always knowing what’s up. Even though you love her to death, there’s people who you feel the complete opposite towards. If you come home and had a nasty interaction with someone, Mantis will immediately notice. She won’t have to touch you either, she’s learned your indicators. If you’re the type to talk it out, she’ll hold your hand to get the best understanding of what happened. If you’d rather not talk about it, she’ll hold you tightly until you feel better. Mantis is extremely kind towards you and will do anything to make you smile. She likes your “odd human smile.”

Giggling! Sometimes Mantis will laugh at you, or you’ll laugh at her. Either way it’s never with ill intent. She might ask you a question that’s worded so confusingly you can’t help but chuckle. You might do something simple like sneeze and Mantis will snicker at how loud you are. You two always end up smiling at each other. Most of the time your giggle fits end up in tears and trying to catch your breath.

Curiosity and so much of it. Both of you always want to ask each other what life was like in the galaxies or on Earth. The culture shocks always get a gasp out of the two of you. “You guys do what? How do you remember all of those holidays, that’s so many?” “I don’t know. We’ve got calendars and phones and other people to remind us!” Some of these questions will be about how machines work, foods, languages, all of that good stuff. Just for fun, Mantis will teach you her favorite sayings in her native language! If your first language isn’t English, you’ll share a similar saying/expression with her.

Having a pet. Both of you agreed having a little furry friend would be fun. You decided to let Mantis choose what fluffy companion you’d have. She chose a very large, intimidating, and soft dog. She said it was because it reminded her of a not bald version of Drax which got a laugh from you. It was a mutual agreement to name him Drax Junior. He sleeps in bed with the two of you, goes where you go, and never leaves your sides. If it’s the midst of summer and too hot for Drax Junior to go out, Mantis insists on staying home with him to keep him calm.

Meditating and learning about martial arts. If you’re physically able, Mantis is completely willing to teach you martial arts. She believes it’s an amazing skill to know. If you can’t for one reason or another, she’ll teach you how to meditate and do it extremely well. At first she’ll aid you by holding your hand to help you feel relaxed and slow your breathing. Eventually she’ll have less and less of an effect on you until you can meditate as well as her without her help. Once you do, she’ll praise you endlessly for it. She loves sharing her favorite activities with you!

Tag List: @gh0stlyb34r @wimpyvamps

“Shit!”

Rocket yelling expletives was not a new thing, but in your head you saw him lying in the med-bay, tubes and wires attached, foaming at the mouth

The events with the High Evolutionary was only but a month ago. Rocket wasn’t fully over it—you weren’t sure if he ever would be. And you, you definitely weren’t over it. The footage from the OrgoCorp file, the sight of Rocket nearly dead

It scared you, it still scares you

So you knocked and entered his room, knowing well enough that Rocket would never have opened the door or even shouted, asking who was bothering him

You first noticed the overturned cup and the pool of water near his bedside. His blanket had been tossed haphazardly to the floor, soaking up some of the liquid

You then met Rocket’s gaze, mirroring his frown—though yours was one of concern

“Rocket?”

Your voice was high-pitched and unsure, causing you to inwardly cringe

Rocket looked away, very much wishing now that he could bury himself under the covers

You walked toward the bed, noting how his ear twitched at the sound of your footsteps, how his brows furrowed and his nose scrunched up

If it were a totally different situation, you very well could have blurted out how cute you found him to his face

“What are ya doing? Get out of my room.”

He spoke with a gruffness that only comes when you stop yourself from crying but your throat still feels thick

You didn’t answer him, not really knowing what to say without sounding awkward. Instead, you cleaned up his mess. You found an extra blanket and draped it over his lap before joining him on the bed, your back against the wall

You figured halfway through cleaning that it wasn’t necessary for the two of you to talk about it. For now, at least. For now, you just wanted to offer your presence. To be somebody who’s there without making Rocket feel embarrassed about needing somebody in the first place

Rocket had been silent. His arms might’ve been crossed and his brows still tightly knit, but he hadn’t told you to leave a second time

You thought of telling him something funny but found your supply of witty remarks running low. You opened and closed your mouth, trying to muster any kind of words that weren’t “Are you okay?” and “You wanna talk about it?”

“You want to watch one of those Terran movies you like?”

You stopped fiddling with the hem of your sweater, and a smile replaced your cautious expression.

Of all the things he could have said or done…

You didn’t hesitate, lest he take back the rare offer.

“Sure.”

You didn’t do this often. Rations were low and trips to Earth were few and far between. But you wanted this to be special for him, so you grabbed Rocket by the hand, earning a grunt, and led him to your room.

Rocket had never stepped foot inside your quarters, let alone ten feet of it. He found it uniquely Terran, but even more uniquely you

Lamps and string lights you either brought with you from home or found in a junk shop, posters from favorite bands, television shows, and movies, plants—some more loved than others—and books you’ve read as a child

It was starkly different from Quill’s bunk, that’s for sure. Smelled better, too

You shifted some pillows and opened your laptop

“Make yourself comfortable. I’m just gonna grab some things. You can look for a movie in the meantime.”

You gave him a smile and was even bold enough to run a hand through his fur to the top of his spine. He was soft, and he didn’t flinch or bite at you.

You returned five minutes later with a bowl of popcorn, the last of your microwaveable packets, and found Rocket toying with a stuffed animal Drax had gifted you. It was quite ugly but the sentiment was there.

You nestled yourself close to the raccoon, pulled the covers up, placed the bowl between you two, and pressed play.

You woke up to heavy breathing. Next to you was Rocket’s form, his face twisted in anguish and his limbs twitching

You glimpsed your surroundings. A small desk lamp across the room was still on, your laptop and empty bowl were discarded on the floor, the covers had been kicked off by Rocket and covered only a portion of your legs now

You don’t remember falling asleep or even moving your things off the bed

You inched closer to him and rested your hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles. You felt the metal pieces embedded in his body

“Rocket. Rocket, you’re okay.”

Your voice was but a whisper, but his breath caught and his eyes opened to meet yours

“Hey. It’s still a little early. Peter’s still at the wheel, though he’s probably fallen asleep by now,” you chuckled. “It’s not your shift for a while. We should get some more sleep while we can.”

You didn’t want to bring up the nightmare or the fact that you both fell asleep together or the fact that you were touching him and he hadn’t shrugged you off yet

But you made sure to remind him of where he was, who he was with. The Arête’s no more. Rocket’s just on a ship, going who knows where with his friends, answering distress calls and saving the galaxy

He didn’t speak. His eyes darted from your face to your steadily rising and falling chest to the hand that rested on his back. With each second, his vision grew clearer and further away from his wretched memories

“Stay with me?”

You asked for his sake. Rocket nodded ever so slightly and shifted so that his back was to your chest, his head tucked under your chin.

You raised the covers and loosely draped your arm over his side. You didn’t want him to feel any more suffocated than he might’ve felt when dreaming.

Quill was surprised when Nebula seemed so perplexed by it all. Evidently, he’d assumed she and Rocket experienced plenty of falls on Earth during the Blip. But truth be told, she and Rocket had spent most of those five years in space, keeping up with the Avengers only through the occasional video call. It was only after a plan had been devised to reverse the snap that she and Rocket had bothered to make the trip back to Earth. 

Besides — there were very few Avengers she and Rocket had tolerated enough to visit Earth for, anyway. 

When the current and former Guardians of the Galaxy decided to visit Quill during an Earth October, Nebula mentioned it to Gamora during one of their calls. They still kept in touch; they shared an unspoken feeling that it was important to, even if it was difficult. Gamora had no memories of the years they spent rebuilding their relationship and learning to trust one another. She only had memories of the bad. Starting from scratch made things feel tense between them more often than not. But Nebula figured that offering hospitality was a good starting point, so she extended the Earth invitation to Gamora, as well.

“Uh, no,” Gamora said, wrinkling her nose. Nebula had expected as much. She was a little surprised, though, when Gamora said after a pause, “But…tell everyone hello from me, I guess.” 

Now, Nebula is glad Gamora turned her down. The old Gamora might’ve been reluctantly charmed by an Earth fall, but the current Gamora definitely would not have been. 

At the present moment, Rocket, Groot, Drax, and Mantis are crowded around Quill’s grandfather’s kitchen table, while Nebula hangs back and watches Quill present the group with a tray of those paper cups Nebula keeps seeing. Drax is wearing a pointy black hat on his head, courtesy of Rocket, and Rocket is wearing a sweater with a pumpkin pattern stitched onto it that Mantis found in Quill’s laundry and begged him to wear until he grumpily acquiesced. 

(Mantis has secretly snapped dozens of pictures of Rocket wearing it. Nebula doesn’t think Rocket’s noticed, and she isn’t going to tell him.)

“Now, this is an Earth delicacy,” Quill says as he passes a paper cup to Nebula, too. “So prepare yourself.”

Nebula looks skeptically at the paper cup, then across the room at Rocket, who’s raising his eyebrows dubiously.

“If you say so,” Nebula says at last. She takes a sip, then immediately splutters.

The drink is foul. It’s scorching hot, unbearably strong, and so sweet that she physically recoils. 

“Oh, gross,” Rocket gags as he lowers his own cup. Drax is retching, too, and Groot has a disgusted expression on his face. Nebula wouldn’t be surprised if one of his twigs started shriveling. 

“What, you don’t like it?” Quill says, astonished.

“I cannot imagine how anyone in their right mind could ever call this a delicacy,” Drax says, nearly shoving his drink away.

“What?” Quill says.

“Why is it so hot?” Nebula demands, opening the lid of her cup to peer suspiciously at the steam rising from the drink inside. 

“Well, normally you’d let it cool down a bit before you drink it,” Quill says impatiently.

“You were the one who wanted us to try it immediately!”

“I can’t believe you don’t like it!”

“What is it?” Rocket says.

“A pumpkin spice latte.”

“A what?” 

“I am Groot?”

“A pumpkin is a vegetable that no one who was smart would ever turn into a damn drink,” Rocket says.

“Oh, what would you know?” Quill says. “You evolved from animals that eat trash!” 

“Yeah, well, maybe that means I know what the hell I’m talking about!”

Mantis, at the head of the table, takes another long sip, then slowly lowers her cup. “You know,” she says thoughtfully. “I actually think I like it.” 

“What?” Rocket squawks.

Mantis licks her lips. There’s a smidge of white cream in the upper corner of her mouth, and Nebula doesn’t realize she’s staring at it until Mantis glances over at her. Nebula hastily looks away.

“It’s tasty,” Mantis insists. She takes another sip, then hums happily, which makes Nebula’s insides twist for reasons she refuses to examine. She looks around the table, perplexed. “You really do not like it?” 

“It’s barely edible,” Rocket says.

“The drink’s very foul,” Nebula agrees.

Mantis shrugs. “Well…I like it.” 

“Thank you, Mantis,” Quill says, leaning over and patting her shoulder. “Thank you.”

Mantis grins. Not for the first time, Nebula notices how different Mantis looks now that she’s completed her self-discovery solo journey around the galaxy. Her hair is shorter, cut at her chin in a way that makes her look older. Her voice is different now, too; louder and surer than it was before. And her eyes are brighter, alight with a kind of vibrancy Nebula might’ve thought had always been there if she hadn’t been paying closer attention.

Because Nebula is paying attention to Mantis. She has been ever since she arrived back at Knowhere; probably, she has been even longer than that. Honestly, she isn’t sure how to stop.

“Well, finish the drink quick,” Quill tells Mantis. “Grandpa and I are leaving for the pumpkin patch in an hour.”

The idea had been Quill’s grandfather’s, actually. He wanted to get to know his grandson’s sister. The invitation had also been extended to the rest of the Guardians, but they’d turned them down. Besides, most humans probably wouldn’t react well to seeing a talking raccoon and tree in a pumpkin patch.

“I’ll be ready,” Mantis insists even as she continues to drink the disgusting pumpkin beverage.

“Dressed in that?” Quill says, eyeing Mantis’ usual dark green get-up.

“What’s wrong with this?”

“Well…” Quill is clearly fumbling for a response that isn’t It makes it even more obvious that you’re an alien. He settles on, “You’ll need something warmer.”

“This is all I brought.” Mantis glances hopefully at Rocket’s pumpkin sweater.

“No way, Bug. You had your chance, I’m keeping it,” Rocket says, bringing the neck of the sweater up to his chin. When everyone gives him a look, he adds, “It’s comfortable, alright?”

“Well,” Quill says, turning back to Mantis. “Then you can borrow something from Nebula.” 

Nebula stiffens. “What?”

“What? You brought other clothes, right?”

Nebula did. She doesn’t understand why Mantis didn’t, given she’s the one who’s spent the past year traveling the galaxy.

Mantis turns her gaze onto Nebula, her eyes big, round, and deceptively innocent. “Can I borrow something of yours, Nebula?”

Nebula feels like there’s something itchy under her skin. She clears her throat. “Yes. That’s fine.”

They leave the Guardians downstairs — Rocket, Groot, and Drax have congregated to the living room couch to watch a movie — and go upstairs to the spare room where they’ve stored their stuff. Nebula didn’t pack much — this was planned to be a short trip — but she does find a long-sleeved gray hoodie in her bag, suitable for Mantis to wear in cooler weather. It’s clean, too. Or at least Nebula’s pretty sure it is, despite what looks like a grease stain on one of the sleeves.

Still. It’ll do.

“Here,” Nebula says, shoving it unceremoniously into Mantis’ hands.

Mantis smiles. “Thanks.”

Then she starts putting it on then and there, making Nebula’s eyes go wide.

She doesn’t know why she’s surprised. Mantis is just shrugging the hoodie over her other clothes. It isn’t like she’s taking any of her other clothes off. But something is jarring about it all the same.

Mantis straightens out the sleeves of the hoodie, smoothing the fabric down her front, then looks up at Nebula. “All good?”

Nebula feels her mouth run dry.

The hoodie is bigger on Mantis than it is on Nebula, which Nebula probably should’ve expected. Nebula is much taller, and the sweatshirt is big on her to begin with. But on Mantis, the sleeves fall far past Mantis’s arms, and the hem hangs down to her thighs. Mantis is practically dwarfed by the hoodie, looking warm and comfortable — in ways Nebula is sure she never looks while wearing it — and also…

Cute. To Nebula’s dawning horror, she realizes that the image of Mantis wearing Nebula’s hoodie… is cute.

“Nebula?” Mantis asks, brow furrowing.

“Yes,” Nebula manages to say, and when Mantis’ brow furrows even further, Nebula adds, “Good,” like some kind of idiot.

Mantis smiles anyway, but there’s something in her expression Nebula can’t interpret. If she knew better, she might think it was knowing. 

“Well,” Mantis says, clearing her throat. “Thanks for letting me borrow it.”

But instead of the vulnerability you expected to see in her eyes when you looked into them, you only dark lust. Your breath hitched as her hand swiftly snaked around your throat and squeezed. Your eyes widened and your heart began to race.

“M-mommy sorry!!” You quickly corrected the pet name you had used, throwing your hands up in surrender.

Nebula’s eyes sparkled with dominance, she was seething with anger and lust.

“Mommy’s going to take her anger out of you, subby baby…” The woman tugged you close by your throat, as she husked her words into your ear roughly.

You gulped and immediately nodded vigorously.

“Yes yes okay mommy—!” You squeaked, still with your hands up.

“Strip.”

She eased her hold on you, giving you the chance to obey her command. You swiftly nodded and responded, then quickly stripping down all the way. Seconds later, you stood in front of the woman naked.

Nebula smirked wickedly, before she shoved you onto your bed and flipped you on all fours swiftly. You instinctually arched your ass up for her. And with no warning, Nebula plunged three fingers into your cunt.

“ahhHhH Mmommyy—!!!” You shrieked, shoving your face into your pillow to stifle your screams.

Nebula merely chuckled, fucking your fluttering pussy with her digits fast and rough. You were so out of it in mere minutes, you had completely forgotten that the fingers she was fucking you with were robotic. When they started to vibrate inside you, you couldn’t contain your cries of pleasure.

“That’s it, baby… Mommy just needs to get it all out… Being a good little toy for mommy…” Nebula husked, before sliding in a forth vibrating finger.

Your legs were shaking and you were holding on for dear life. And Nebula knew it.

“No cumming…!” She growled, giving you a sharp smack to your ass with her other hand, making your walls clench around her digits buried deep inside you.

“AhHhH— Sorry mmkay Mommy!!!” You yelped out in sinful desperation, “More mommy mmmore please—”

Nebula chuckled wickedly at your request. She was more than happy to give it to you…

With one final plunge, Nebula fucked her entire hand into you, making you nearly pass out at first, because of how fast and hard she was taking you. But you stayed awake, for mommy…

At least, you stayed awake as long as you could, because by the time your mean mommy finally let you cum, it was all too much for you. You let out a strangled cry as you came around her vibrating hand, then proceeded to pass out.

Nebula swelled with pride at having been able to make you literally lose consciousness because she fucked you so well. She now felt a lot better after that, having gotten most of her anger out. She gently pulled her hand out of you, then waited for you to wake up so that she could tell you how much of a good girl you were.

~~~

Nebula Masterlist