What Should Have Happened In The Infinity Movies. Scarlet Witch And Rocket Friendship For The Win.

Holy shit. The first chapter was so fucking good! You will not regret reading this or anything by this author. Top tier quality and smoking hot.

⋆˚.⚘𖡼𖥧𖤣 windfall 𖤣𖥧𖡼⚘.˚⋆ (a meetgroot*) masterlist

18+ only MDNI | no use of y/n | f!reader | 1/3 parts | wip | word count: pending.

wind·fall /ˈwin(d)ˌfôl/ noun. an apple or other fruit blown down from a tree or bush by the wind; an unexpected piece of good fortune.

semi-shy touch-deprived reader tries to avoid meeting knowhere’s intimidating captain. is profoundly unsuccessful.

based on a prompt by @creativepromptsforwriting: The apartment she moved to has a beautiful, well-tended garden. After a while she finds out that her neighbor is the one tending to the plants and she decides to help him out one day.

mcu-based, post-volume-three, possible secondhand embarrassment. rising sexual tension with explicit commentary and fantasy; smut in part three. check back for warnings.

⭑˚.⚘𖡼𖥧𖤣 collects Parts One through Three. Part One. Sugared Violets. 𖤣𖥧𖡼⚘.˚⭑ groot attempts to parent-trap his dad. ✩ Part Two. Crystallized Ginger. 𖤣𖥧𖡼⚘.˚⭑ nebula talks some sense into the captain. ❤︎ Part Three. Candied Apples. 𖤣𖥧𖡼⚘.˚⭑ everything bears fruit.❤︎❤︎

no skin color, hair texture, or body shape/size specified in this work - the bodies depicted below are solely present to show off the damn dress.

some explicit statements or references ✩ explicit scenes or fantasy sequences ❤︎‬ long, detailed, and graphic explicit content ❤︎‬❤︎‬ deliberately smut-free, mostly or entirely platonic ✮

taglist ♡ @evolvingchaoswitch ♡ @glow-autumz ♡ @wren-phoenix ♡ @suicidalshitstick ♡ @pretty-chips

If you join in please tag any posts with #rocketraccoonpromptweek

Ahhhhhh!!!! What’s gonna happen? I’m dying!

starlorn .⋆☁︎:･꧂

[anticipated 4/22]

18+ only | rocket x f!oc | 6/25+ | wip | wordcount: pending.

pearl pleads her case. warnings below.

It had been obvious, even to those morons — someone had made massive changes to the system. Had improved it — made it better than ever. A couple idiots tried to claim credit but Tullk and the Captain had looked at them with dubious sneers on their faces, eyes half-squinted in disbelief. A few hours later, when the Captain had been alone in his quarters — that’s when the Monster had taken the risk.  Had talked to him. Now the monster sighs and scrubs his hands over his face. No use lamenting that particular tragedy. The summary of it is that he’d been searching for the same thing with Lylla, he knows. He’d escaped the Eclector and spent years in and out of prisons, making and losing money, hating the universe more and more. Until, blinded by his own greed — wanting someone, anyone to accept him, someone to be his, someone he could belong to — he’d had the idea to stalk Wyndham. To extort him. To demand a companion of his very own. The Monster had been reckless in his want for a friend, a partner, an ally — thinking he needed it, thinking he could have it — as if everything he was didn’t fly in the face of the natural order of things. As if there could be anything in this universe suited for him, when he himself had never been suited for anything but an incinerator. And his selfishness had resulted in another innocent lifeform being tortured and murdered. He can’t keep the pearl. He can’t take care of her out here, not the way she needs. Not the way she deserves. How could he be trusted to? He’d brutalized her when she was vulnerable, trapped in her gilded cage — gotten her all tied up in her pretty skirts and smashed her lovely face into the ground, like some kind of goddamn villain. He’s a selfish bastard but there’s a reason he stays solo these days.  Tying someone to himself is a guarantee that, at best, they’ll be miserable. Or worse:  they’ll be dead.  No, he tells himself sleepily, leaning back in his chair. The best thing he can do is drop her somewhere safe. Somewhere nice, and comfortable, and welcoming. Somewhere that’s suited to her, far better than he is. But — he should’ve cleaned her injuries tonight, he thinks hazily as his eyelids weigh themselves down over his blurring stare. The tangle of cables and buttons and switches on the ceiling slowly shadow away with every blink. He should’ve rebandaged her. He should’ve made sure she’d eaten; he should’ve— He jolts awake. It’s still the middle of the sleep shift, but he’s awake now, and he’s hungry. Maybe a snack, and he can dick around with the leftovers of the dismantled Hadron Enforcer, see if he can fashion anything smaller but equally devastating and destructive from the remnants— Except Wyndham’s pearl is gone.

from chapter seven. starlorn. ✩ cicatrix masterlist.⋆☁︎:･꧂

a story about scars. two survivors learn about themselves, each other, hope, and the universe. a freakish little monster visits the high evolutionary’s bride on her wedding night. an adventure of intergalactic proportions ensues. aka raccoons make plans; the universe laughs.

WARNINGS for this chapter: self-injury (biting), continued references to grooming and confinement. rocket’s explicit running commentary and the faintest whisper of d/s vibes. brief mention of bondage.

fluff ✮ | spice ✩ | some smut ❤︎‬ | much smut ❤︎‬❤︎‬

Glorious artwork for Entanglement, like pure and perfect and amazing. I adore it so much!

There’s so many cute scenes. I attempted this one while trying to perfect a tiny Petra look. Thank you @hibatasblog for making such a gift for everyone!

Here’s a sneak peek at Entanglement chapter 15. 🚀 🦝

When Rocket and Lethys entered the lecture hall, a hiss and rumble of voices erupted around them. Lethys walked as if he were a king, proud and tall, but his ears swiveled catching the odd whispered word or snide remark. His upper lip lifted towards one particular humie who quailed at the sight of three-inch long canines.

Tail bristling, and chest so tight even the metal there ached, poor Rocket heard more clearly than his father: “Look at that thing,” “Am I truly to believe that creature is a Tekton,” “I can’t believe these two were even allowed into the building,” and “Let us hope they have had their shots.” It took everything that Rocket had inside of him to keep from either latching onto the rich wool of Lethys pantleg or fleeing the room.

His crimson eyes swept the room, searching for even one friendly face. Just as he began to harden his heart against the whole assembly, a bald, short, and aging man and a willowy tall and thin woman stepped into the aisle. “Rocket, my boy!” the older man smiled in true welcome, and Rocket recognized the jovial voice.

“Professor Stollwizer?” he guessed from the rich baritone of his favorite teacher.

“Yes, indeed! It is a pleasure to finally meet you, young man,” Professor Stollwizer smiled his bushy mustache moving with his lips.

“Nice to meet you, Professor,” Rocket said with his best manners, voice clear and free of accent as he could manage.

The little man shook Rocket’s hand with real affection before offering his hand to Lethys. “Sir, your son is the most brilliant scholar I have ever had the good fortune to teach. You must be so proud of him,” the man enthused.

Lethys guarded expression smoothed into one of beaming pride, “I am most proud of him and his achievements,” he agreed, his massive paw completely engulfing the man’s small hand.

“Ah, Rocket, Mr. Kavashi,” Professor Stollwizer smiled broadly as he gestured at the thin woman next to him, “This is Professor Rikthi. Rocket, you will be the teaching assistant in her introductory physics and mechanical theories classes.”

Professor Rikthi bent down to offer her hand to Rocket. She had an ageless face, a monocle, and a soft, kind voice, “I’ve heard how hard of a worker you are, Rocket. I’m sure we will get along well.”

“I wouldn’t be so certain about that,” interjected a middle-aged Xandarian who eyed Rocket and Lethys with a sneer of derision as he pushed up his glasses and shoved his way past Professor Stollwizer. “It hasn’t yet presented any proof that he is the true author of the paper submitted,” the man continued in an annoyingly nasal voice.

“He,” growled Lethys looming over the man, “My son is a person, a male, he is not an it.”

“It,” the man snarled back, uncowed by Lethys’ size and ferocity, “Is an animal, a sick joke being played on our university by this preposterous creature,” the man indicated to Lethys then and smiled meanly. Every cell in Rocket’s body longed to hide behind his father from this sharp man that reminded him too much of his Sire. “How long did it take you to train it to wear clothes? Stand on its hind legs? There is no possibility of this little monster having authored-”

“Enough-” interrupted Professor Stollwizer in booming voice at odds with his cheerful seeming mien. “I assure you that no one else but Rocket Kivashi could have written the thesis in question,” Professor Stollwizer frowned up at the man, “I advised him extensively during the writing process, his voice has always been the same, writing style the same, intelligence unrivaled by any person I’ve ever met-”

“Shall I tell you how easy it would be to fake a voice, old man? Are you so far into your dotage that you actually believe this preposterous lie?” the angry man hissed. He pointed at Lethys, “The only thing that surprises me, is that you planned this ruse so poorly. Couldn’t you have engineered something that looked more convincing? I can see bolts sticking out of its face.”

Rocket barely controlled the instinctive reaction to touch the metal on his cheeks. Heat burned his face, and he wanted to cry, but just as he was about to open his mouth on a silent sob, a memory flickered in his mind.

The evening before he’d stood on the stool in Petra’s bathroom combing his face fur, trying to style it in a way that would cover the metal there. As he grew older, Rocket’s fur grew more and more luxurious, but it still didn’t cover that hateful metal in his face. He sighed and considered using some of Petra’s hair gel, but thought better of it when he remembered that it accentuated her curls but did little to control them.

“Whatcha doin’?” Petra asked appearing behind him in her nightshirt.

“Oh, nothing,” he tried to lie.

“Rocky, you were combing like you wanted to pull out all your fur. What are you doing?” Petra countered as she came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Standing like this, his head was just below her chest; if she leaned forward any closer, she could rest her breasts against the top of his head, a thought that made his embarrassment flare even hotter.

“People will see the metal in my face, see what a freak I am,” he whispered watching Petra’s face in the mirror.

She frowned then and used her hands to turn him to face her. “There is nothing about you that makes you a freak, Rocky. Besides lots of spacers have mods.”

“What will I say if people ask about them?” he asked her, so many things he had to cover for, think of excuses for.

“Tell them to mind their goddamn business, is what you’ll say,” Petra replied with real heat, “Tell those rude motherfuckers to fuck right off.” She searched his face and found him still uncertain and lost. Petra leaned in close and slowly, purposely pressed a kiss right over both protruding metal implants. “You tell those assholes that your girlfriend kisses your beautiful face so much you had to your cheeks reenforced, that you’re just that irresistible to her.”

Rocket’s eyes went wide and he whispered, “No one would ever believe that. I don’t even believe that. I-”

Instead of answering him with words, Petra lowered her face and pressed her lips to the metal collarbones holding his shoulders back, kissed the metal bars that squeezed his chest. “I will kiss any part of you to convince you otherwise,” she whispered against the scarred naked skin around the outer ribs. “So don’t you even care about what anyone thinks about your body but me.”

Inside of Rocket’s chest fear turned to anger, because, the truth was, his appearance didn’t and shouldn’t matter. Lethys and Petra loved and accepted him, and that was all he needed. This fucker’s opinion didn’t matter at all. “It is too my paper,” Rocket found himself declaring loudly enough that the whole hall went still. “I wrote every single word, and in my defense I’ll prove it beyond doubt.”

Every eye was swiveled his way, every human face staring at him in either disbelief or shock except for Professor Stollwizer and Professor Rikthi who smiled warmly. “Ask any question you want about my paper,” Rocket said casually as he walked to the stage. Before he stepped up the first stair, he shot back over his shoulder, “Of course, that’s assuming that you can understand the complexity of the work in question.”

Rocket is the grumpy, mildly insulting friend/therapist I didn’t know I needed until this series.

✩࿐࿔ nobody fuckin hates you. [new 7/5]

fluff (smut-free) | gn reader | no use of y/n | drabble | word count: 1,231. read more on ao3 | ✩࿐࿔ take what you need masterlist | main masterlist

put away your phone and your bad memories, and go to sleep already. nobody remembers that thing you're tormenting yourself about, and your friends love you. be kind to yourself. you deserve good things (including healing rest).

hey sleepy nonnie, you perfect little summer-flower fieldmouse. i'm sorry this took so long and i'm grateful for your patience. i know it's hard to believe sometimes but there are people who see how hard you try, how you are giving it your all even when you're tired, and how you persist in spite of obstacles and mistakes. and they admire you for it, and even love you for it. you are so much more than whatever's keeping you up at night. i truly hope this little thing brings you some comfort, and eases your way into sleep.

Your little Knowhere apartment is dark.  Blue-and-purple shadows that had wrapped around you like a quilt when you first crawled into bed now feel like a bruise. The sprinkle of plasma orbs strung across the dusty bone-street outside do little to keep the midnight hours from passing, and you can tell it’s way too deep in the sleep-shift because you can no longer hear Howard’s indignant quacks and Steemie’s bellowing laughter when the former loses at poker for the umpteenth time.  The only real light you can see is the rectangle of your phone, sticky and sickish and pale, as you scroll over the slick screen. You’re not even sure what you’re seeing anymore — just thumbing hearts into the things that give you the tiniest, faintest glimmer of serotonin. At least you’re bundled into a soft quilt — courtesy of Ssssaralami — cocooned against the shadows and oppressive quiet. The knock at your door makes you jump. It’s less of a knock, you suppose, and more the sound of someone trying to beat up the door. Which means you know who it is.  You stagger to your feet, blanket still wrapped around you and trailing as you shuffle to the door and tap the sensor that slides it open.

read more on ao3 ✩࿐࿔ for nonnie ♡

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. if you’d like to join my fanfiction taglist, please comment or send me a message or ask! ♡

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) for nonnie ♡

if you find any of these at all helpful, they're meant for you.

banners & dividers by @saradika-graphics and @thecutestgrotto taglist ✩ @suicidalshitstick ✩ @glow-autumz ✩ @evolvingchaoswitch ✩ @wren-phoenix ✩ @pretty-chips

total word-count: 20,387.

I adore this. I can totally see Rocket rocking some kid-sized sneaker skates… 🚀 🦝 👟

Rocket: Hey! Tall people! If we're walkin' together, please take into consideration my tiny legs! I can't keep up with you! Please think of my tiny legs — I don't wanna be joggin' to keep up with your leisurely stroll, you FUCKING TITANS!

Peter: Just get a pair of roller skates and hang onto my sleeve! We don't have all day.

I’m melting from the sweetness and the sexual tension in this chapter. Holy hell.

cicatrix .⋆☁︎:･꧂

chapter nine. mal de coucou. [new 5/9] ✩❤︎

18+ only | rocket x f!oc | 9/25+ | wip | word count: pending. masterlist, notes, & moodboard | chapter nine. mal de coucou.

pearl and the monster make landing-plans. pearl gets a massage from her survivor. see below for warnings & notes.

His hands remember everything they’ve ever touched, and everything they’ve ever felt. They never, ever forget. He stares at pearl’s pretty, delicate fingers. His lowlight vision paints them with the champagne light of the security orbs, and he can see them so clearly that he can count the faint freckles on the second knuckle of her first and third digits, and a beauty mark on the web of her thumb. He compares the satin skin and spindle-thin bones to  the mass of gnarled leather and claw that make up his own hands. Then he rolls her fine knuckles under his rasping thumb, and finally — carefully, stomach tight with tension at the thought of waking her up, of getting caught — he brings them to his face and coasts his mouth over them lightly. He wants to lick them. Take the flavor of them into his mouth, press them against his teeth. Maybe between his teeth — nibbling just enough to leave little divots that would fade in less than an hour. Get the taste and texture of her silken skin on his tongue.  An antidote to ghosts. 

read more on ao3 | masterlist, notes, & moodboard

i am updating this from an uncomfortable chair in the hospital room. and yes, i am so tired i might as well be drunk, so please forgive any messiness of this chapter. in my head i had imagined it very slow-burn and delicious, but now i suspect it is clunky and clumsy. either way, i had a hard time deciding where this was worth a ✩ or a ❤︎‬ in the ratings, so i sorta gave it both?? anyway i hope you enjoy, my little glass suncatchers. sorry for being a day late again and please note that i might be late next week too as we are still waiting on some results for this surprise-brain-surgery-thing.

WARNINGS for chapter nine: description of hand surgery/butchery. massages and the resulting filthy fantasies.

a story about scars. two survivors learn about themselves, each other, hope, and the universe. a freakish little monster visits the high evolutionary’s bride on her wedding night. an adventure of intergalactic proportions ensues. aka raccoons make plans; the universe laughs.

fluff ✮ | spice ✩ | some smut ❤︎‬ | much smut ❤︎‬❤︎‬

taglist ♡ @evolvingchaoswitch ♡ @glow-autumz ♡ @wren-phoenix ♡ @suicidalshitstick ♡ @pretty-chips

This was not what I was expecting to be blessed with on my day off. Now I NEED a cold shower and a cigarette… lord help me. Raccoonfallsharder… you may have sparked an Engagement Jack/Petra/Rocket headcannon response to this… it got my crazy brain working overtime.

some questionable headcanons.

navigation | headcanons & imagines

just thinking too much about how (and why) rocket doms & subs in all (well, most??) of his different incarnations. of course there’s lots of crossover because at his core, rocket is always rocket, but sort of… reskinned by the experiences in his different worlds.

i spent way too long thinking about this while traveling over the weekend. NSFW (mdni) with gn reader below the cut my loves. just some ramblings/musings that are subject to change according to my mood.

mcu rocket

DOMS YOU: by doing whatever it takes to make you beg for him — to force you to convince him that you want him, that you need him. he’s a master of edging, and he wants desperately to leave marks on you as proof that he was there. it’s not a dealbreaker if you aren’t into spanking or biting or spanking or clamping or spanking or bruising, but he’d love to give you just a little bit of pain if you’re into it. also likes to degrade you a little too, but has a hard time bringing himself to be really mean when he likes you oh-so-much. oh — and the top-drop is real with this one, so make sure to provide good aftercare for your dom.

SUBS FOR YOU: the amount of trust it will take for this rocket to explicitly sub for you is immense (though it’s pretty clear early on that even if he likes to degrade you a little bit, you’re the one with all the power in the bedroom). he doesn’t like to be restrained by anything but his own willpower, which is admittedly flimsy. but for you, he’ll try: clenching his fists into the sheets of his bunk, gripping onto shelves and hatch-frames and anything else he can brace himself against to try to keep from touching you when you tell him to keep his hands to himself. he might even let you blindfold him, though he’s honest enough to admit that he can use his other senses to get a pretty clear idea of where you’re at and what you’re about to do. the truth is, this rocket really does want nothing more than to make you feel good — and if that means letting you take control, he’ll figure out a way to do it. after the first time — when you’ve given him so many orgasms he thinks he might’ve actually died and gone to a better afterlife than he deserves — he’s more willing to explore whatever options you want, just as long as you keep murmuring those sweet little reassurances that you’ll take care of him.

eidos rocket

DOMS YOU: most rockets have something of a gunplay-kink, but this guy takes it to the next level. he loves to both toss you around and boss you around, and lavish you with all sorts condescending praise — particularly when stretching you out on a cannon. plus, ever since that night you let him get you high on everbloom, he can’t stop thinking about how sweet and silly and eager-to-please you’d been while intoxicated. he won’t do anything without your explicit consent, but he can envision a whole galaxy of fun if you let him do that again.

SUBS FOR YOU: this rocket generally avoids situations where he’s vulnerable, so at first it seems like you’re unlikely to ever get the upper hand. secretly, he also worries about having flashbacks to the labs when restrained, or the sensory deprivation chambers when, well, sensory-deprived, so traditional bondage is a no-go. i don’t think he minds you taking the lead, though — just be prepared for him to be bit of a pillow princess when roles are reversed. that said, the truth is that between the cold contempt of the kree scientists, lylla’s sacrifice for his life, and tella’s betrayal, this rocket — while vain as hell in regards to his pretty fur and stunning physique — does worry that there’s something intrinsically inadequate about himself as a person. shower him with enough authentic praise, and he’ll do just about anything to keep it (and you) coming.

cartoon rocket

DOMS YOU: this rocket absolutely sees himself as a dom and is also absolutely not one. underneath it all, some part of him believes that he’s still the unloved runt of his family and the weird one on halfworld — and no matter how amazingly brilliant and capable he’s become, that perception of himself never fully goes away. except for when he’s with you, that is. look, he tries to boss you around a bit. but when you give him that sweet, indulgent little smile and massage the base of his ears, he’ll do whatever he can to please you. the closest this rocket gets to “calling the shots” is when he leaves fine red scratch marks somewhere visible on your skin — loving the way it looks like he’s claimed you (even if part of him would much rather be claimed).

SUBS FOR YOU: did you see the episode with ja kyee lrurt? sure, it’ll take a whole lot of trust-building to get there, but once he’s fallen for you, this rocket will worship the ground you walk on. he’ll trip over his own tail trying to make you happy, both in and out of bed. step on him, spit in his mouth, and call him a good boy, and he’ll be thankful.

universe-killer rocket

DOMS YOU: WARNING. DANGER. if this rocket decides to let you live in the first place, he’ll be wanting to keep you collared around the clock. imagine everything the other rockets do to dom you, but dial the intensity up to thirteen and make it at least six shades darker. loves to see you crawl.

SUBS FOR YOU: oh honey. you’re in the wrong place. at best — once he softens up to you — you’ll get a part-time service dom. maybe. it’s not even that he doesn’t want to submit to you (though he doesn’t). it’s mostly that he wouldn’t remember how if he tried.

marvel rivals rocket

DOMS YOU: i’m still getting to know this rocket but it’s clear he likes variety, based on his dramatically-different looks. i suspect he’s got a major size-kink to go along with that tendency, too. it doesn’t matter that he’s smaller than you in stature: this rocket has at least fifteen different prosthetic cocks and about ten of them are too big for you to take without substantial prep. don’t worry, though: while rocket is not patient in most things, he makes exceptions for this. he loves sinking into you nice and slow while you’re all teared up and dripping, grinning maniacally against your damp skin and purring, “easy, sweetheart; biiiiiig stretch”

SUBS FOR YOU: this rocket’s got super-soldier trauma too, but i think he’s also way better at being part of a team — which means he’s willing to take one for it, too. submitting to you is the equivalent of a trust-fall, and once you’ve had his back in battle, he’s willing to at least give it a shot. give him a playful flick to his earring and a smirk to let him know you’re in the mood to boss him around, and he’ll let you as long as it leads to multiple orgasms for both of you. as mentioned, he’s also a big fan of shaking things up, so feel free to try out all your new ideas, just as long as you’re communicating beforehand.

ewing/rosenberg/et al rocket

DOMS YOU: this rocket spent some time with a pretty little thing from the aceta system and learned all about traditional krylorian ropeplay. he loves tying you up with all sorts of deviously-positioned knots that tease your poor, delicious body every time you take a breath. then he just sits and drinks his angargal’s (neat) and watches you with a predatory grin and a few casual — if absolutely filthy — “compliments.” is it even edging if he’s not actually doing anything? he’s innocent, your honor! except that he might jerk off on you, just so he lasts longer when he finally gets inside you (plus there’s something about see you you helpless and dripping — with his fluids and yours — that makes him dangerously feral). he’s also a big fan of directing you on how to touch yourself — especially if he can make you edge or overstim your own body. it feels like the ultimate control to him.

SUBS FOR YOU: this rocket loves cuddles, physical affection, and quality time — though he’ll never admit it. it’s on account of him being the loneliest flarkin’ guy in the universe, of course. he hadn’t remembered his past for circs — just a big ol’ hollow void in his history that he’d filled with persistent dread, raw nerves, and more cons and grifts than even he can recall. had his heart broke once or twice, and generally perceives himself as too much of a d’ast grizmod to be worthy of another person’s genuine love. and then he’d gotten his memories back… only to find out he’d been an authentic dumb-ass hero in a past life, before his former enemy had married his girl. it had really sent the message home: that nobody’s just gonna give him nice things. well. nobody until you. so cuddle this rocket up tight in your arms, and treat him oh-so-lovingly — spend late nights with him in the cockpit and listen to his stories — then stroke his tail while you ask him so sweetly to jack himself off. he’ll find himself doing whatever you say before he even realizes it. or — if you want to give him a real treat — make him promise not to move while you cockwarm him for an hour or two. make sure he knows that there will be no orgasms for cranky gunsmiths who can’t stay still. he’ll stare at you like you’re absurd for suggesting it — why the flark would he agree to something like that? — but after two minutes of you holding him snuggled tight inside you, he’ll start getting teary-eyed from the sheer emotional intimacy of it all.

skottie young rocket

DOMS YOU: by tying you up and overstimming you — again and again and again and again — with his tail and a dozen new toys he made himself. today. look, he’s gotta try ‘em out somehow, and you’re both his lucky muse and his favorite lil test-subject. loves to make you cry — but only for fun reasons. would absolutely arrange for another sub to wreck you under his direction, but only if you told him you’d be into it. he’s one-thousand percent a showman of the highest caliber and he’s gotta make sure everything’s over the top so he doesn’t disappear without ever being loved, which means he also doesn’t mind a full-fledged audience.

SUBS FOR YOU: if you’re looking for vulnerability with this rocket, you’re more likely to find it in unguarded moments of sexual intimacy that are remarkably vanilla. why? mostly just because it’s proof that he doesn’t always have to be the most outrageous thing in the galaxy to keep your attention. these are the moments when he’s heartwrenchingly soft, when he might explain to you how isolated he feels, how he’s searched high and low for “his own people” and has always been reminded that he’s the only thing like him in the universe; that he’s tried to fill the void with an endless parade of gender-variable space-princesses only to find that no-one ever made him feel less-alone — until you. but if you’re looking for submission… well. this rocket is the switchiest switch to ever switch. he has no issue subbing for someone with whom he expects to have fun, mostly because he doesn’t have to trust you to play sub for you. he’ll let you do pretty much whatever you want in the name of brat-taming, but the joke’s on you if you think he’s not capable of wresting back control the moment he wants it. for flark’s sake, he can get out of those electrocuffs in less than two seconds if he wants to — and he’ll never be done being a brat.

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.