Chapter Text
Peter's so surprised to feel the vines creeping up the leg of his pants that he drops the carton of juice he just pulled out of the fridge, spilling it all over the floor. That's not a pressing concern of his right now, though. The sticky, sap covered tendril pressing insistently at his hole is.
Peter looks around, but all he could see were several of Groot’s tendrils coming from around the corner, all the way up his pants leg.
Peter's knees buckle when the… appendage breaches his hole, but he manages to catch himself against the refrigerator. He leans against the appliance for support while it crawls further inside him.
“There's juice all over the floor! Peter, did you make this mess?” Gamora asks when she comes into the kitchen and sees the pink juice spilled all over.
“Y-yeah, I- I dropped it,” he responds, voice shaky, much more concentrated on the tentacle-like vine that was moving in and out of him at will, massaging his prostate as he could still feel the amber sap dripping inside him.
“You shouldn't have just left it here. You need to clean it up, now.”
Peter shoots her a disbelieving look cause he's kinda busy being penetrated up against the fridge right now.
But then he sees her smirk. And he looks down and realizes it's more than obvious that Groot is fucking him from the other room, his vines weaving across the floor and several disappearing up the leg of his pants.
He's panting, his face flushed, his hips weakly rutting forward because he can't help himself at the sensations squirming inside him.
She knows exactly what's happening when she orders him to clean up the mess he made, even tossing him a dish rag before sitting down at the table, turning towards him and miming getting comfortable for the show.
“I’ll wait,” she tells him with a smirk.
Peter bites his lip, his thighs unintentionally squeezing together at this new prospect.
“Go on then,” she nods to the floor, encouragingly.
Peter sinks down onto his knees with a whimper, feeling himself tighten around Groot’s tendrils at the change in position, letting out a helpless moan.
It takes him a moment to adjust, before he starts scrubbing the floor on his hands and knees, legs shaky beneath him.
One tendril covered in that dripping honey sap explores further forward, between Peter's legs, caressing his balls. And then there's several more wrapping around his cock and tightening, and Peter falls face first onto the floor, collapsing. “Ah, oh please,” he begs, his arms sliding out from under him until he's lying on his stomach, ass up in the air. The tendrils fucking him are suddenly going much harder and faster, hitting that bundle of nerves inside him in such a devastating manner.
Suddenly there's a loud sound and a large stinging pain on his ass, and he would've come right then and there if it wasn't for the vice like hold Groot had on his cock right now.
Peter keens, his hips bucking forward, so desperate.
He looks back at his now smarting ass, sees how suddenly close Gamora is, sees her outstretched hand, makes the connection.
His face flushes at the realization that Gamora had spanked him. And he liked it.
“I didn't tell you to stop. You're not done yet, Peter. Don't get distracted. It takes… discipline to see the job through,” she purrs, sounding like a threat coming from her lips.
He nods, but apparently doesn't get started quick enough, cause she smacks him again, little lighter this time. Peter lets out a hoarse little moan, but grabs the rag and starts cleaning the floor again, very slowly though.
She massages his ass cheek, and he wonders with how tight his pants were if she could see Groot operating under his clothes. He's left to conclude that yes, she can, when he hears her chuckling when yet another tendril joins the party and squirms up under his pants.
Peter's a sweating, shuddering mess by the time he's cleaned up all the juice he spilled. Crumpled up on the floor, making all kinds of noises.
Positively weak and shaking, still being unrepentantly used.
“Good job, Peter,” Gamora tells him, stroking his sweaty hair. She gives his crotch a few good rubs that make him whine so pitifully, but Groot still wasn't done with him yet, so she bid him adieu and left him lying on the floor, still at the tree’s mercy.
It was two hours. Two hours of being felt up and groped and fucked by a tree with no release.
More and more vines came out to play. Holding him upright in the air as he squirmed, the probing tendrils so curious and inquisitive. The wicked vines encircling each of his legs, wrapping around him. Feeling him up over his clothes, the vines moving between his legs to cling to his inner thighs, then higher, feeling up his bulge, giving him the touch that he craved right now.
All of this is still happening in the kitchen, by the way. The rest of the team each walk by several times. To see Peter held in the air, panting and moaning and squirming, vines groping the bulge in his pants, obviously stimulating his nipples under his shirt, and still fucking him in the ass too.
Rocket just walks right past him, being sweaty and used, on the way to the fridge.
“Oh, hey Quill,” he greets him casually, a glint of humor in his eye.
Peter doesn't respond, just continues getting fucked.
Peter had always thought of spit roasting as a threesome activity.
That is, until Groot extends his tendrils so Peter’s impaled from both ends- spitroasting him all by himself.
Groot’s vines playing with his ass and on particularly thick vine oozing that viscous liquid worms it's way past Peter's lips.
“I am Groot,” Peter hears, and he didn't really need the prompting, cause he was about to start sucking on it anyway.
And Peter realizes that calling the amber liquid sap this whole time was wrong. As it drips down his throat, clearly the right word to describe it was syrup.
Sweet and heady and thick. It had been almost a lifetime ago since he tasted maple syrup, but he thinks this is kinda like that.
Yup, this is what his life had come to. Being penetrated and suckling syrup from a very horny alien tree.
And then Groot worked two, no, three more tendrils into his mouth, all wet and sticky, and these plant based tentacles fuck his mouth vigorously as five more pounded into his asshole. Peter was moaning and writhing in the air, held up by the thing that was fucking him from both ends. He didn't even care that syrup was dripping out of his mouth now, mixed with his saliva. He didn't even care that with the half lidded eyes and the noises he was making that anyone who saw would assume he was a horny little slut for obviously loving being used like this (rightly so). All he cared about was more. More, more, more.
It's two hours of the Flora Colossus using him like a human sex toy before he's finally allowed to cum. He's a quivering mess, actually sobbing from an orgasm so strong it almost breaks him.
Groot slowly lowers him, it isn't until he feels Groot’s actual arms holding him that he realizes he's actually entered the kitchen now. Groot sits down on the floor, bringing Peter to sit down with him, leaning the precious Terran up against him and stroking his hair while he rests and catches his breath.
Peter feels boneless as it is. He's not sure he’d be able to walk two steps if he tried, so the floor sounds nice right now.
“Thank you, thank you,” Peter says earnestly, his eyes closed, utterly exhausted.
“I am Groot,” is the gentle, loving reply, tendrils softly brushing his hair in the most soothing way. It's so nice. Peter sighs at the feeling.