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You Destroy Me (nsfw)

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“Are we there yet?”

“Almost! Like another block!” Peter Quill stops in the middle of the street and throws up his hands. “You’ve asked that like twenty times! What is with you, man?

“You are with me,” Drax replies automatically, looking around himself at his fellow guardians. Then he pauses. “Ah, you mean why am I so persistent on this matter.”

“Yes,” Gamora interjects before Quill can respond. He’s getting very red in the face; a string of missions has been tough on him and he hasn’t slept well the past several nights. He’s not in the most patient of moods right now. “Yes, that is what he means.”

“I am…merely anxious to get my knives sharpened,” Drax says, and hopes the lie holds. The truth is, he wants to see [y/n], the owner of the knife shop. And he would tell his friends, but he doesn’t want to share his feelings yet, and he definitely doesn’t want to share you.

Gamora lays a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Why don’t you and Rocket take Groot and Mantis and get a drink,” she says, nodding at the bar down the street. “I will go with Drax to the shop, and we will meet you there.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Thanks,” he says, with a swift kiss to her cheek. He jogs away before she can push him away; public displays of affection are something she is not entirely comfortable with yet, and Peter keeps forgetting. Mantis, Rocket and Groot, sitting on Mantis’ shoulder, fall into step behind the Terran.

Gamora turns to beckon Drax to follow her, but he’s already half a block ahead, making a beeline for the knife shop. Gamora huffs quietly and walking quickly, follows him.

Drax pauses at the shop front, peering in past the displays of swords, knives, daggers and other bladed weapons to watch you through the glass window.

You’re all the way in the back, in the training room. Besides being a buyer, seller and maintainer of bladed weapons, you’re also a proficient swordswoman and give lessons to whoever is willing to pay for them. Drax watches the confident flow of your arm and body as you go through the training motions, and feels his skin start to warm. He has been in your shop several times and has admired you for many months, but despite him saying what he believes are very obvious confessions of his adoration, you have not noticed. But today he’s going to just come right out and say it.

“We are finally here, Drax,” Gamora says a little curtly, interrupting his thoughts. “Are you going in, or staying outside?”

Clearing his throat, Drax pushes his way inside, and the little bell tinkles over the door.

You instantly stop your movements and turn your eyes toward the entrance. You blush. It’s Drax the Destroyer. He and Gamora are frequent customers; their weapons get a lot of use and you’re always willing to help the Guardians of the Galaxy. Especially a tall, beefy, blue-eyed hunk of man like Drax. You replace your training sword on the wall of the training room and peek at yourself in one of the mirrors lining the back wall, fixing your hair. Not that Drax would ever notice, you think with a sigh. He says sweet things, but he’s much too busy with saving the galaxy to notice little old me.

“Hello Drax, hello Gamora. The usual?”

“Yes,” Gamora says, lifting her sword in its sheath to the counter top.

“Okay. Remove stains and scratches, sharpen, oil and polish…that’ll be eighty-five units, discounted from the usual hundred.”

“Thank you, [y/n],” Gamora says with a smile. “How is business?”

You shrug. “I’m giving regular lessons, but everything else is kinda slow. There’s only so much demand for blades when there’s new models of blasters coming out every other week, you know?”

Gamora nods as Drax gently places his two knives on the counter. “Hello, [y/n],” he says.

“Hello Drax. The usual care for you too?”

“Yes, that will be satisfactory.”

You nod. “Okay, well this should be all done by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Thank you,” Gamora says, and turns to leave.

To your surprise, Drax doesn’t follow.

Gamora gets halfway out the door when she realizes he’s still standing by you at the counter. “Drax, are you not coming to the bar?”

“No,” Drax says, folding his arms. “I must stay here and speak to [y/n]. Without you.” He adds emphatically.

Gamora shrugs. “You know where to find us.”

The bell tinkles over the door as it closes, and you stare up at Drax as he comes closer to you. “Drax? Wha-”

You’re interrupted as the bell over the door chimes again and another of your regular customers comes in. “Hey, [y/n],” he says with a wink, unclasping a knife in its sheath from his thigh. “I need- whoa there, pal.” He says as Drax takes hold of his upper arm.

“I am not your pal,” Drax says with a frown. “We do not know one another. And you must leave.”

Before you can protest, Drax has dragged the customer out of the shop, shut the door, and turned your Open sign to Closed.

“Drax!” you yell. “That was a customer! I just got done saying business is slow - I need all the customers I can get!” You run to the window, but the man is already gone. “Great.” You turn and glare at him, then march over your work counter, unsheathing Gamora’s sword to start irritably buffing out the scratches with an abrasive pad.

Drax shifts his shoulders a little uncomfortably. “I am sorry I chased away your business [y/n], but what I have to say is important.”

“My business is important, too, Drax,” you say without looking at him, “It’s important to me.”

“And you are important to me,” he says, coming to stand in front of you.

Your strokes with the abrasive pad slow to a stop on the sword blade, and you stare up at him. “What did you say?”

“[y/n],” he begins, “I have attempted to gain your attention and affection, but my endeavors have gone unnoticed. So you must listen to me carefully.” He takes a deep breath and says, just a little more slowly than necessary, “[y/n], I wish to court you and have physical relations with you.” He adds, in a lower, softer voice, “I have not felt such emotions for many years since my beloved Hovat was murdered.”

You just stare at him, unable to process this blunt confession for several moments. He waits patiently, never taking his eyes off of you. “Drax, I don’t know what to say.”

“You do not need to say anything,” he says. “May I kiss you?”

“What? No!”

“No?” he asks, and his crystal-clear blue eyes seem to fill with sadness.

“I mean not – not yet.”

He perks up a little. “Why not?”

“Because we need to take this slow.”

He frowns slightly, then nods. “I can kiss very slowly if that is what you prefer.”

In spite of yourself, you laugh. “No, that’s not what I mean. I mean, we need to get to know each other better first. Like, go have dinner and talk first.”

“Then I can kiss you.”

You laugh again. “Maybe.”

“And then we can have sexual intercourse.”

Your face flushes hot. It’s not like you haven’t imagined that…but… “Let’s just take it one step at a time, Drax.”

He takes in a deep breath, but nods. “Very well. [y/n], let us begin by consuming a meal together.”

You laugh once more and place Gamora’s sword aside. “Okay, Drax.”

“I will purchase your meal for you. Quill says it is gentlemanly to pay for a woman’s meal. But I am not a gentle man. I am very strong and have killed many foes!”

Your date with Drax goes very well. He is very intent on what you have to say, what you do, and what you’re interested in, which is refreshing. Many of the men you’ve dated have just been looking to get into your pants. Drax obviously wants this, he told you so – but he is willing to take the time to get to know you, because he cares for you. He and the Guardians prolong their stay on the planet, doing odd jobs in and around the sector. You have several more dates with Drax, and on the third one he kisses you. Despite his large size and rough demeanor, he is very gentle with you and his sweet kiss surprises you. Eventually the Guardians have to move on, but they return to your planet often and Drax always spends as much time as he can with you.

You’ve never dated or even met a man who has filled you with such confidence in yourself. He sits in on some of your lessons, watching quietly from the back of the room as you teach your students. After the lessons are completed and your students have gone, he praises your skill, grace, and patience. On top of this, Drax is kind, affectionate, and protective, if sometimes brutally honest. You always feel safe with him around and have never felt so strongly about anyone before. What started as a simple crush has quickly grown into much more. You think you’re falling in love.

A few months after your first date, you invite him back to your rooms at the back of the shop. The windows’ shades are pulled down for the evening, and the shop itself is dark. The training room is lit, and it’s at the back end of the training room where you live – there’s a little kitchen, a tiny bedroom and a small sitting area.

“Would you like some coffee?” you ask.

“No,” he replies. “I would like to kiss you.”

You laugh and trace the flame-like skeletal tattoos crossing his chest with your fingertips. He sighs deeply, running a hand gently over your hair. You stretch on the tips of your toes to reach his lips, and he leans down to kiss you, cradling the back of your head in one large hand. With the other, he zips down your jacket. You catch your breath, pulling back to look in his eyes. “Drax?”

“Please, [y/n],” he says softly, “I must have you.” He discards your jacket, and you gasp as he bends to your exposed neck for a kiss; you know as soon as he touches his lips there, you’re going to be done for.

His lips are warm and light against the flesh of your throat and you can’t hold back a loud moan. He goes still. “Did that pleasure you?” he asks.

“Yes,” you whisper.

“Then I will kiss that place again.” And he does. Again and again, he teasingly kisses your neck, one hand burying in your hair as the other unclasps your bra under your shirt.

“Oh Drax,” you groan.

“[y/n],” he says, lifting your shirt and bra free. “You are beautiful. Look.” He lifts you and turns you around so you’re facing the wall of mirrors. You avert your eyes from the red-faced half-naked reflection of yourself to look up at Drax instead. He gazes adoringly over your body, his hands at your hips, tracing circles around your hip bones with his thumbs.  

“I wish to touch you intimately,” he says, locking eyes with you in the mirror.

You can only gasp out an unintelligible response; thankfully he takes it as a yes.

He grips a breast in one hand, rolling the nipple in between his fingers, and reaches his other hand down between your legs, unbuttoning and zipping down your trousers. He tugs them down until they fall around your knees, then – you can’t help but giggle uncontrollably – he winds one arm around your waist and lifts you into the air to yank them the rest of the way off your legs. Your laughter dies away into breathless whimpers as he pulls off your panties, too.

He sets you down on weak and trembling legs, eyeing the obviously wet patch of hair between your legs. Gripping your hip in his left hand, he takes his right and slides a finger along your pussy lips. Your back arches into him, hands grasping at his arm.

He smiles proudly. “I am very good at pleasing you.” He moves his finger against the little pearled nub he finds between your lips, tracing around it in circles. You begin to pant and writhe in his arms, pushing your buttocks against his groin.

This makes it very difficult for Drax to concentrate; the movement of your bare skin against his clothed penis is extremely arousing, and his trousers are getting very tight and uncomfortable. He lets go of you momentarily to unbuckle and pull off the offending garments, tossing them aside. When he turns back to you, he finds your mouth is hanging open, your eyes wide in the mirror.

“My nether regions are fully engorged,” he explains. “My trousers could not hold me much longer.”

You can only nod, blushing darker and darker by the second.

“I must release soon, [y/n]. I would like to do so inside of you.”

“Drax,” you squeak, and taking that as affirmation, he turns you around and lifts you fully into his arms. You are very light to him and not at all difficult to support.

You tremble and pant, looking down the expanse of Drax’s chest to his fully erect and very large cock.

“I know you are very small, and my penis is huge, but I promise I will try not to hurt you, [y/n],” he says sincerely, and you lock gaze with his gentle, concerned blue eyes. You smile and wind your arms around his neck as you lean forward to kiss him.

As your lips touch his, you feel the head of his cock enter you, stretching you, followed by his long, thick shaft. He fills you to the brim, fuller than you’ve ever felt, stimulating what feels like every nerve in your body in the most pleasurable ways. Releasing his lips, you throw your head back with a cry of ecstasy.

“[y/n],” Drax says as he begins to gently thrust his hips up into yours, “I love you.”

Overcome with physical stimulation and sudden joy, tears trickle down your cheeks.

He instantly ceases his movements. “Oh no, I am hurting you. I will stop.”

“No! No,” you sniffle, laughing. “Don’t stop. You’re not hurting me, I’m just very happy. I love you too, Drax.”

He smiles wide, his eyes sparkling, and with him still inside you, he maneuvers to your bed and lies down, allowing you to set the pace as you rock back and forth against his hips. Your climax begins to build, and Drax’s grip on your hips tightens as you clench around him. He pulls you further down against him as he thrusts upwards.

You let out a loud, shaking moan as starts burst before your eyes, the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had rolling over you in wave upon wave. Drax comes with a shout of your name, praising your beauty.

After you’ve both ridden through your orgasms, Drax shifts on the bed, turning so he can spoon you. He draws you back against his warm body, stroking your hair and kissing you gently until you both fall asleep.