Y’all. Y’ALL. I’m losing my mind over this. Fans self as I try not to ignite in a grand conflagration of flame. 🔥 Rocket, go slay that sweet storyteller pussy. 🚀 🦝 🍆 🍑 💦 🦷 😜
year five: dispersal
florescence❀| navigation | fanfiction masterlist 18+ only MDNI | no use of y/n | f!reader | 5+/6 years | word count: pending.
seeds of second chances.
“Well, this is definitely where I’m gonna fuck you, then,” Rocket growls, and the words are soft and smoky against the rumpled bedroll.
A shiver — ticklish-soft, like feathers and fur — floats up your spine. You let out a shuddery breath and turn back to hold his shining eyes. With the festival tonight, you’d never started a fire in the hearth, and Rocket is just a dark and threatening shadow to your weak vision in the night. Without the fire to throw his ruby-cabochon eyes into glow, you can barely pick him out in the shadows.
“‘Cause I missed you, storyteller.”
Your ears strain. You’re sure he takes a step toward you.
“You and all your pretty words. How stubborn you are. How smart you are. How damn sweet.”
The words float toward you, and your abdomen clenches tight, even while something stings your eyes.
“I missed you too,” you admit. Your voice wobbles, and you scrunch your nose and lick your lips, trying to keep your words measured. “I — so much, sweetheart.”
“I know, babygirl.” He tsks against his teeth — takes another step toward you. Some small shard of light must catch his eyes, because they flash like copper moons — three paces further to the left than you’d thought. “Wouldn’t have believed it a few circs ago, but you miss me every time I’m gone, huh?” His voice roughens — grows hoarse, with something you’re sure is regret. You’ve heard it lingering against his teeth enough times to recognize it. “I was starside for so frickin’ long this time, too. Wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d given up on me—”
“Absolutely not,” you hiss, wounded by the words. The dark silhouette of him raises its hands in mock-surrender, eyes flashing like garnets as he slides another foot forward. “You promised—”
“I know, princess,” he purrs. “I did. But my promises haven’t meant much to most people before now. Groot’s prob’ly the only one who ever believed in ‘em before.” Another careful, measured stride. “The whole frickin’ time I was out there, I was thinking of you. Wanting to get back — tell you how much I love you. Lick that mark I left you.”
Your fingers flutter up to the pearly ring of scars, and your pussy suddenly flutters and dampens. You take a step backward, further onto the bedroll.
“Could bite you a new promise,” he croons dangerously. “One where I don’t gotta leave you behind again.”
Your cunt spasms now, and something beneath your sternum does too: heart clenching just as needily.
“I want that,” you agree breathlessly. “I want that too.”
“Right here,” he continues. “Gonna fuck you and bite you right on this damn bedroll. Can’t tell you how many times I wanted to before.”
Another loping stride toward you; another quick crimson gleam of lava-hot eyes. Your bare toes curl against the softly-crumpled blankets and quilts.
“Wanted to fuck you in this bed for so long, babygirl. Probably since the first morning I came in here — following a stray fuckin’ flerken — and saw you layin’ there, all soft and messy.” His voice dips low. “Like that damn pussy of yours.”
You hear him — breathing in, slow and steady. Inhaling your scent like a hunter.
“I missed her, too, storyteller,” he admits, and when he steps toward you again, he’s got the look of a predator caught in his eyeshine once more. It sends a shiver up your spine. “An’ I can tell by the way she smells that she missed me back.”
from chapter six year five: dispersal, part three [anticipated 4/30] ❤︎❤︎ florescence❀| navigation | fanfiction masterlist
WARNINGS for this chapter: touch of primal play, touch of somno, light bondage/blindfolding, torn clothing, The Tail™. tons of dirty talk. light painplay, nipple-play and tit-slapping, marking (claws, teeth/biting), praise, light degradation, "slut" (affectionate), lots of overstim, masturbation, cunnilingus.
“The only chance we got is to get to the other side of the universe as fast as we can and maybe, just maybe, we'll be able to live full lives before that whack-job ever gets there.”
rocket & groot leave their friends behind on knowhere, despite the latter’s protests, and end up hiding out on a nothing-planet (with a non-extradition policy) at the edge of the shi’ar galaxy.
flower divider by @/thecutestgrotto • planet divider by @/edensrose • mdni & support banners by @/saradika-graphics • moodboard by me! ♡
Happy Pride!❤️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜🩷🖤🩶🤍🤎
Happy pride month GOTG tumblr!!! 🏳️🌈🦝
I love being a lesbian, it’s one of the greatest gifts this world has given me :)❤️
I drew a pride Rocket for you all today to celebrate!!😄❤️
Enjoy!
This take is 100% correct. So is this one…
Rocket: Damn, that cutie could do some serious damage… I’d love to manhandle that piece into battle. Boom. Bam. Murdered you, sweetheart.
Drax: Are you talking about your new ion cannon, Rocket?
Rocket: WTF? No, get your mind outta the gutter, you perv. I’m talking about Petra* and Jack’s new slutty selfies on instagram wearing only their matching thongs. Those asses are legit threats to my equilibrium.
*my version of Peter Quill and Blackjack O’Hare who are in a loving yet deeply horny throuple together.
I 100% believe that Rocket would look at gun and dirty magazines with the same level of excitement.
Quelquefois les ailes d'un papillon sont plus fortes que le squelette humain.
Mon beau chaoui, Rocket Raccoon, Rocket Kivashi, the Future Mr. Rocket Kivashi-Quill being the absolute thirstiest mother fucker over his gal Petra Jane Quill.
I love this so much, and yes his partner would freak out that he said this.
I’m not sure if this is a fact or not, but I read on tiktok that apparently your brain shows you seven minutes of your life when you’re dying and those seven minutes are supposed to be the best parts of your life.
So I thought of what if Rocket sent this to you as a text message, thinking it would be sweet, but he didn’t really take in the “dying” part of it 😭
-
Rocket: “Apparently when you die, your brain shows you 7 minutes of the best moments of your life. You would be my 7 minutes.”
And about 15 minutes later, he got a face call from you and he picked up and you were sobbing. “What is wrong with you? Why would you say something like that?” Obviously crying because it was so sweet yet so sad.
Rocket laughed a bit, “it was supposed to be nice!”
You replied, crying harder, “it was nice, you fuck! Very nice! Now look what you did!”
“I didn’t mean to make you cry! I wanted to be sweet.”
“By talking about you dying?!”
“I don’t know! Just in case—“
“In case of what? Because if you think—“
“Nothing, nothing, I’m exaggerating!”
“If you think you’re not coming back here, Rocket…”
“Listen, the only reason I wouldn’t come back on time would be because I was getting you flowers on the way home. I ain’t leaving, baby. Okay?”
-
Thank you tiktok for this beautiful yet heartwrenching idea :)
Ya’ll. I hate people touching my hair, but I would let Rocket play with it, brush it, style it, and run his fingers through it 4-Evah. 4-EVAH.
✩࿐࿔ brush your fuckin' hair. [new 4/21]
✩࿐࿔ take what you need masterlist | take what you need queue fanfiction masterlist | navigation
fluff | gn reader | no use of y/n | anthology one-shot | word count: 1,649. read ✩࿐࿔ brush your fuckin' hair on ao3 excerpt & warnings below the cut.
for nonnie! ♡♡♡ i really wanted to write this one with eidos-rocket, but i wasn’t sure if you were a fan of the 2021 game. however, please know i was channeling a lot of my eidos-rocket headcanons (like him being VERY VAIN about his fur) while writing this. a few warnings: one very brief, not-explicit off-color joke of a suggestive nature from reader, some assumptions about hair length and texture based on the wording of your ask, and physical affection/hair combing. i hope you enjoy this little story and that it maybe gives you some encouragement to take a little more care of your hair.
“You ain’t brushed your hair again.” The words make you stiffen in alarm. You’d been standing at the tiny counter of your kitchenette, opening two milky fizzes — one for yourself, and one for the Captain — and pouring a carton of zargnuts into a bowl when he’d decided to interrupt you with what sounds an awful lot like an accusation. You whirl around to face Rocket, one hand automatically flying to the back of your head — finger-combing the strands and checking for snarls. “Whaaat?” you manage to ask with a little laugh that you hope sounds incredulous, but probably sounds cornered instead. Your eyes skitter from Rocket to the book shelf, the ceiling, the holoscreen — to anything in your cozy studio apartment that isn’t him. The air is velvety and blue right now — just a few shadowed shades past Knowhere’s artificial sunset. There are only a few sources of light against the darkness: one dim plasma orb glows on the narrow coffee table, and there’s a handful of tiny twinkle-lights dotting your kitchenette shelves. Outside the window, a net of stringed lights shimmer against the newly-gathering night. The Captain isn’t deterred by your frantic lack of eye contact or your sputtered semi-denial, though. He’s twisted in his seat on the couch, peering over the back of the cushions with his head at a ridiculous angle. He rolls his eyes. “Don’t try to lie. I can see right through you, kid.” Your fingers fuss at the back of your skull and you wince. Your somersaulting belly decides to tie itself in a neat knot of dread instead. “Does it — look bad?”
need more reminders from rocket?
the world is hard, and sometimes it's difficult to complete daily tasks & take care of yourself (aka rocket bullies you for your own damn good).
feel free to ✩ request reminders ✩ via reblogs, asks, and tumblr or ao3 comments if they would be helpful for you. it may take me a hot minute to get to them depending on life n stuff, but i will do my best. ♡ view the take what you need queue to see upcoming installations & the current backlog. SOFT HIATUS: feel free to request things but i am going to take a brief break from twyn after chapter 29 posts next month. i got a few requests here on tumblr for other things i'd like to take a crack at!
this is about as wholesome as it gets (for me) i think. can be read platonically or romantically. mcu-based anthology, meant to take place post-volume-3, but headcanon however you want ♡
✩࿐࿔ take what you need masterlist
eat somethin. (wc: 576)
go to frickin bed already. (wc: 737)
get outta bed & get your shit done.(wc: 925)
take a damn bath. (wc: 1,375)
leave your frickin skin alone. (wc: 1,579)
take a fuckin study break.(wc: 1,020)
drink some goddamn water. (wc: 1,209)
stop destroying your frickin clothes. (wc: 1,609)
just buy the damn thing already. (wc: 1,271)
it's frickin laundry day. (wc: 1,923)
get some sunshine, sunshine. (wc: 1,614)
did you take your damn meds today? (wc: 1,288)
schedule your fuckin' appointments.(wc: 1,222)
do your goddamn dishes. (wc: 994)
brush your frickin' teeth. (wc: 1,774)
nobody fuckin hates you (wc: 1,231)
stop biting your goddamn nails (wc: 2,920)
take a frickin' shower (wc: 1,359 )
take care of your fuckin injury (wc: 2,102)
cook some goddamn food. (wc: 2,707)
clean your frickin room. (wc: 2,465)
stop hittin shit. (wc: 1,862)
do your frickin homework. (wc: 2,121 )
chill the fuck out. (wc: 1,499)
i'm damn proud a' you, kid. (wc: 1,639)
fuck heartache. (wc: 1,781)
stop frickin' apologizing. (wc: 1,207)
brush your fucking hair. (wc: 1,649)
if you find any of these at all helpful, they're meant for you.
teacup and teal line dividers by @/saradika-graphics | support banner by @/saradika-graphics | raccoon divider by @/thecutestgrotto. total wordcount: 43,690.
To all my rainbow 🌈 pals. Be gay and do crimes.
Happy pride month to my favs ever
Gamora: [to Quill] You’re so clever! How can somebody as clever as you be so stupid?!
I feel called out hehe
Please know you are important, lovable, and irreplaceable.
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(Source)
Fan art for the amazing fan fic Window Across the Galaxy by raccoonfallsharder
285 posts