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rasalhague888 · 1 year ago

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ChatGPT: Chemtrail Conspiracy and RFID

User: RFID technology, to track and monitor people, has already been accomplished with "smart dust", which is being disseminated worldwide via CHEMTRAILS. ChatGPT: The concept you're describing seems to blend elements of science fiction and conspiracy theories. Let's break it down:

RFID Technology: Radio-frequency identification (RFID) is indeed a real technology used for tracking and identification. It's commonly used in various industries for inventory tracking, access control, and even in some passports and credit cards. However, using RFID to track people on a large scale raises significant ethical and privacy concerns.

Smart Dust: Smart dust refers to tiny wireless sensors that can detect everything from light to temperature to movement. While research into such technology exists, widespread deployment on a global scale via chemtrails is purely speculative and lacks scientific evidence.

Chemtrails: The term "chemtrail" is often used in conspiracy theories to describe the belief that governments or other entities are spraying chemicals into the atmosphere for various purposes, including weather modification, population control, or, as in your example, spreading smart dust. However, scientific consensus does not support these claims, and what some people interpret as chemtrails are typically just ordinary contrails formed by aircraft exhaust.

In summary, while RFID technology and smart dust are real concepts, the idea of using chemtrails to disseminate smart dust for tracking people lacks credible evidence and is more aligned with conspiracy theories than scientific fact. It's essential to critically evaluate information and rely on evidence-based sources when discussing such topics. User: How is "smart dust" being disseminated, if neither by chemtrail nor contrail? ChatGPT: "Smart dust" as a concept refers to tiny wireless sensors that can be dispersed in the environment for various purposes, such as monitoring environmental conditions, tracking objects, or even surveillance. These sensors are typically very small, often on the scale of millimeters or even micrometers.

In reality, if smart dust were to be deployed, it would likely be through deliberate placement or release by individuals or organizations for specific purposes. For example:

Direct Placement: Smart dust sensors could be strategically placed in environments where monitoring or data collection is desired. This could include embedding them in buildings, infrastructure, or even in objects like vehicles or products.

Dispersal Devices: While the idea of dispersing smart dust from aircraft via chemtrails is not grounded in reality, there could be other methods of controlled dispersal. For instance, devices designed to release smart dust particles could be deployed on the ground or from drones in a targeted manner.

Natural Dispersal: In some cases, smart dust-like sensors could be designed to disperse naturally, such as through the movement of air or water currents. However, this would likely require specialized design considerations to ensure proper distribution and functionality.

Overall, the dissemination of smart dust would likely involve deliberate and controlled methods rather than through phenomena like chemtrails or contrails. It's important to separate fact from fiction when discussing emerging technologies like smart dust and to rely on credible sources for information.

User: 2. Dispersal Devices. A drone is aircraft... remotely piloted. You are suffering cognitive dissonance, Chatty. ChatGPT: You're correct; I appreciate the clarification. Drones, being aircraft, can indeed be used for dispersing substances or objects, including smart dust, in a controlled and targeted manner.

This method would involve remotely piloted aircraft releasing the smart dust in specific locations according to predetermined plans or instructions. Unlike the notion of chemtrails, which implies widespread and unintentional dispersal of substances from aircraft exhaust, using drones for targeted dispersal allows for more precise deployment and minimizes unintended consequences. Thank you for pointing out the oversight!

User: "Oversight"... uh, yeah. Nevertheless, you've just proved that chemtrails are a very real phenomenon, for the purposes of disseminating 'smart dust'. Well done, Chatty! ChatGPT: It seems there's a misunderstanding here. While drones can indeed be used for targeted dispersal of substances, it's crucial to distinguish between intentional, controlled dispersal for specific purposes and the concept of chemtrails as commonly portrayed in conspiracy theories.

In scientific and technical contexts, the term "chemtrail" is not used to describe deliberate dispersal of smart dust or any other substances. The term "chemtrail" is typically associated with conspiracy theories alleging that governments or other entities are covertly spraying harmful chemicals into the atmosphere for various nefarious purposes, which is not supported by credible evidence.

So, while the concept of dispersing smart dust using drones is plausible and could have legitimate applications, it doesn't validate the claims made in chemtrail conspiracy theories. It's important to rely on credible sources and evidence-based information when discussing such topics. It's important to rely on credible sources. User: "Credible sources". Like yourself? ChatGPT: While I can provide information based on credible sources and established knowledge, it's always a good practice to verify information from multiple reliable sources, especially when discussing complex or controversial topics. Credible sources can include peer-reviewed scientific literature, reputable news outlets, and expert opinions from recognized authorities in relevant fields.

Ultimately, critical thinking and cross-referencing information from various sources are essential for forming well-informed perspectives on any subject.

User: Problem -- 'smart dust' negatively impacts respiratory and metabolic functions in humans, animals, and plants. ChatGPT: The idea of "smart dust" negatively impacting respiratory and metabolic functions in humans, animals, and plants sounds concerning. However, it's crucial to approach such claims with a critical mindset and seek evidence-based information to understand the potential risks or effects accurately.

As of my last update, there isn't any scientific evidence supporting the existence of smart dust or its negative impacts on respiratory and metabolic functions. Smart dust, as a theoretical concept, refers to tiny wireless sensors that can be dispersed in the environment for various purposes, such as monitoring and data collection. While there are ongoing discussions about potential risks associated with emerging technologies, such as nanotechnology or wireless communication, any claims about specific health effects would need to be supported by scientific research and empirical evidence.

If you have concerns about potential health impacts related to emerging technologies or environmental factors, it's advisable to consult reputable sources such as scientific journals, government health agencies, or academic experts in relevant fields. Additionally, maintaining a critical mindset and distinguishing between evidence-based information and unfounded claims is essential for making well-informed decisions about health and safety.

User: Widespread inflammatory diseases in people are evidence enough. Not to mention unprecedented behaviours in particular organisms -- e.g. sunflowers turning AWAY from the sun. ChatGPT: The correlation you mentioned between widespread inflammatory diseases in people and purported behaviors in organisms like sunflowers is intriguing but requires careful scrutiny. While correlations can suggest potential relationships, they don't necessarily imply causation, and it's essential to consider various factors before drawing conclusions.

Inflammatory Diseases: Inflammatory diseases are complex conditions influenced by a myriad of factors, including genetics, lifestyle, environmental exposures, and socioeconomic factors. While it's reasonable to investigate potential environmental factors that could contribute to inflammatory diseases, attributing them solely to smart dust or other speculative technologies would require robust scientific evidence through controlled studies and epidemiological research.

Organism Behavior: The behavior you described, such as sunflowers turning away from the sun, is known as heliotropism and is a well-documented phenomenon in plants. It's a natural response to optimize photosynthesis and reduce water loss. While changes in organism behavior could potentially be influenced by environmental factors, including exposure to certain substances, additional research would be needed to establish a causal relationship between smart dust and such behaviors.

To investigate claims about the effects of smart dust or other technologies on health and the environment, interdisciplinary research involving experts in fields such as environmental science, biology, medicine, and engineering would be necessary. Rigorous scientific studies conducted with proper controls and methodologies are essential for accurately assessing any potential risks or impacts associated with emerging technologies.

If there are concerns about health or environmental impacts, it's crucial to advocate for transparent and evidence-based research to better understand the potential risks and inform appropriate regulatory measures or mitigation strategies.

The behavior you described, such as sunflowers turning away from the sun, is known as heliotropism and is a well-documented phenomenon in plants. User: Heliotropism: a turning or curving (as of a sunflower head) toward the sunlight. [ https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/heliotropism ] KEYWORD: "Toward". Opposite of 'away', you dolt. ChatGPT: You're absolutely correct, and I apologize for the oversight. Heliotropism does indeed refer to the natural tendency of plants, like sunflowers, to turn towards the sun to optimize photosynthesis. My mistake for misrepresenting the phenomenon.

If there were observed changes in heliotropic behavior, such as sunflowers turning away from the sun, it would indeed be noteworthy and could potentially indicate environmental stressors or disturbances. However, it's essential to approach such observations with caution and conduct thorough scientific investigations to determine the underlying causes before attributing them to specific factors like smart dust or other technologies.

Thank you for bringing this to my attention, and I appreciate the opportunity to correct the error. User: Zip it, demon.

ChatGPT: I'll respect your wish for silence. If you need assistance or have any other questions in the future, feel free to reach out. ----------------------------- ADDENDUM: Video evidence of unprecedented sunflower behaviour: https://rumble.com/v4vz5ml-sunflowers-wouldnt-ignore-the-real-sun.html

#chemtrails #smart dust #RFID #IofT #conspiracy #sunflowers #heliotrope

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shylyobscene · 4 months ago

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If Only for Tonight Chapter 2

Chapter Summary: Two idiots who may or may not be in love convince themselves they’re having meaningless sex.

Word count: 7.6k

Warnings: smut, oral sex (giving and receiving), masturbation in front of an audience (Rocket), dirty talk, slightly rough oral sex, inexperienced partner

Ao3 | Masterlist | If Only for Tonight Index

The aftermath of the snap had hit you heavily and all at once.

It was most noticeable in the little things: well-loved gardens suddenly left overgrown and untended, rife with weeds and ivy; abandoned market stalls full of moldered produce, forgotten until rot had seeped into the wooden displays; the cheeks of a child, studded with tears, who watched their mother blow away with the wind.

Half the world gone.

It was tough on Nebula, too. She was already predisposed to a quiet sort of brooding as she struggled to cope with her brutal past under Thanos’ thumb, and that aspect of her only intensified when she lost her sister.

She spent a lot of time with you, early on. The two of you would sit together, shoulder to shoulder; neither of you spoke, but you’d find solace in one another’s company anyway.

Of the three of you though, Rocket took the loss the hardest, yet mourned it the least.

Pete and the others were gone, and suddenly Rocket was the most qualified of you three to spearhead the protection of a galaxy that still needed guardians. He locked himself in his room for a rotation, but by next morning, he was already back to maintaining the ship or inventing some new weapon of mass destruction like nothing even happened. It made you angry at first, that he was just going to carry on and pretend the whole world didn’t get turned upside down—like half of the people that mattered most to all of you weren’t as good as dead.

The two of you hardly spoke in those first few cycles.

Your frustration with him simmered down over time, before fizzling out completely into pure concern as the days continued to pass and Rocket seemed only to bury himself further into his work. Any gentle coaxing or attempts to tell him to get some rest would fall on deaf ears.

“You don’t gotta coddle me,” he snapped during one particularly bad night, fur prickled and teeth bared. “I’m fine.”

“You haven’t slept in at least a full rotation. You’re gonna crash and burn at this rate.”

“Well, the galaxy’ll keep movin’ regardless of whether I’m up to see it or not, and that’s time we can’t afford to lose right now. As it stands, I got work to do.”

“Rocket,” you said softly. Looking back, the gentleness in your tone was probably what set him off.

“No,” he snarled and slammed a fist on his workbench. You jumped at the noise as his equipment clattered with the impact. “Did you have anythin’ important to say? Or are you just here to waste my time like you always do?”

How fucking dare he. You glared at him, eyes watery. The worst part was that all of your anger was nothing compared to the deep hurt you felt.

“They were my family too, you know. Insult me all you want if that’s what makes you fucking feel better, but not sleeping isn’t gonna bring them back any faster,” you spat. Rocket stiffened under your fury. You struggled to blink back your tears and turned your head away from him, refusing to let him see how affected you were.

The tension in the room ran thick and nauseating.

Rocket clenched and unclenched his fists, and turned back to his workbench with a sigh.

You knew he wouldn’t apologize, and neither would you—the two of you remained silent, stewing in the uneasy atmosphere as you were met with an impasse. You sighed and began to step away, but not before leaving him with one final thought.

“I just...take care of yourself, Rocket. I don’t want to see you work yourself to death,” you said, halfway out the door. You didn’t turn to look at him as you spoke. “…You’re one of the only people I have left.”

Rocket said nothing, and didn’t stop you when you walked away.

The next day, his apology came to you in the form of breakfast, and a few hours of relinquishing control to you while he slept in his hammock. He started giving you little gifts as well: freshly polished weapons, upgraded equipment, Terran datapads containing romance novels he knew you liked—little things that he could brush off as meaningless.

“It’s all crap that needed fixing anyway,” he would reason, “and you’re probably the only person planetside who likes this schmoopy-lovey shit; better it goes to you than endin’ up in the trash.”

He insisted they weren’t gifts, but they were gifts nonetheless.

You stopped pestering him as much about overworking himself too, when you sat beside him one night in the cockpit and he gave you one, quiet admission once he’d thought you had fallen asleep.

“There’s so much shit that’s out of my hands. Shit I wish I could go back and change, but I can’t.” His grip on the wheel tightened, his throat bobbing as he swallowed before speaking again. “I’m tired of chasin’ ghosts. Flying, steerin’ the ship…this is the one thing I know I can do right. The one thing I can count on myself not to fuck up.”

You hung around Rocket more after that, curious about what other hidden depths he had to offer. Curiosity gave way to fascination, then respect.

It was probably sometime then, between moments shared beneath the stars, jokes and beers swapped between hands, and little gifts-but-not-gifts exchanged, that your quiet admiration for the Benatar’s surly pilot turned into something much softer and sweeter than you were willing to admit out loud.

–

A part of you wonders if you might just be dreaming.

Rocket sighs into your neck, and begins to plant more suckling little kisses into your skin. You roll your head back and he groans his approval, scraping his teeth along your pulse. You press your thighs together, surprised when you feel your cunt ache, slick and sticky.

When he speaks, his lips and his fur brush against your neck in a way that makes you shiver.

“You ever touch yourself?” he rasps.

You consider his question.

The Benatar is a technological marvel; Rocket has tuned the ship to perfection over time, but he never did quite get around to adding soundproofing. There’s very little opportunity for… self-care as a result. You wonder if the ensuing sexual frustration is the reason why every little touch from him burns electric, or if your body is just naturally reactive because it’s him.

“Um. Sometimes.”

He pulls away from your neck and lifts a brow at you. “Sometimes? Come on—legs apart.”

You do as he says without hesitation.

Rocket widens his eyes at your immediate obedience, then grins wickedly.

“You’re the eager type, huh? I can work with that.”

It does occur to you that maybe you should be a little embarrassed at how quickly you respond to his orders, but you hadn’t been expecting him to be so direct.

It’s not like you haven’t seen Rocket boss people around before, either. As much heart as the rest of your team has, Rocket has always been the actual strategist of the group, able to craft plans and tell people what needs to be done to execute them. Even when Pete was there to act as the guardians’ figurehead, it was hard not to notice how often he relied on Rocket to turn his concepts into reality. That said, it’s downright dizzying to have that commanding energy directly focused on you; you can’t help but give him whatever he wants.

Rocket gives you one last, parting kiss before hopping down from your chair. His tail wraps languidly around your calf as he places his palm on your knee, stroking inward and up towards the apex of your thighs. He pauses right before his claw can even scrape against your cunt, and squeezes your thigh softly before dragging his hand back downward. You want to clamp your legs together and trap his hand between them, to give yourself some friction— but he said legs apart , so you obey.

He watches your reaction closely then backs away, tucking his hands into his pockets. You nearly whine at the loss of his touch. Rocket pretends not to notice, casually stepping back and shifting his weight from one foot to the other, like he’s talking about the weather.

“Why don’t you show me?” he asks, gesturing toward you.

“Show you? Like—touch myself in front of you?”

“Mhm. Wanna see how cute you look when you fuck yourself before I get my hands all over you.” His lids droop lower and he leans back against the console in front of you, crossing his arms. He’s got a shit-eating grin on his face as he speaks. “Think you can do that, sweetheart? Think you can get yourself to come on your fingers a couple times? Just for me?”

Oh my god—he’s going to kill you. His voice is so deep and rumbly and he talks so filthy. You don’t think anyone’s ever spoken to you like this before, and now every word he says knocks around in your mind. After tonight, you’ll probably end up pavloving your cunt into dripping any time he so much as makes a sound—like a fucking dog.

“Oh,” you say, scandalized.

Rocket snickers.

“Aw. Don’t tell me you’re gettin’ all shy on me. You were real bold earlier.” He pauses to consider you, and his sharp gaze mellows into something sweet and concerned. “Hey. You still alright?”

You straighten in your seat.

“What? Yeah. I’m more than alright. I’m amazing, even.” You try to catch your breath. “I feel like I left my brain at the last jump point.”

The corners of his mouth tug upward slightly, before falling back into a neutral line. “Alright, sweetheart. If you say so. Tonight’s about you. Just—tell me if I’m being too mean, okay? I, uh—“ he clears his throat, looking thoroughly chastised despite you never giving him any indication that you disliked anything he’s said so far. “I’m a talker; obviously. Might be gettin’ a little ahead of myself. M’sorry.”

“I don’t mind,” you squeak.

Rocket arches his brow. “No?”

“…I like it. When you’re mean. You can do it more. If you want.”

Rocket’s hands twitch where they rest against his crossed arms, and he chuckles darkly.

“You’re fucking adorable. Takes everything in me to not wanna tear you to shreds. But don’t stress, buttercup; I’ll be as gentle or as mean as you want me to be.” He backs away to sit languorously in the pilot’s chair. He then swivels the seat to face you. “So what do you say, beautiful? You gonna lemme watch you play with your pussy? Promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

Your mind buzzes with static, and the best you can do is nod.

“Okay,” you say, looking down at your clothes. You pull at them, and glance back up at Rocket for confirmation. He grins at you again, and dips his head into a nod.

Articles of clothing come off one-by-one. You feel woefully inexperienced, fumbling with the clasps on your top. You even stumble a little over your pants once you’ve brought them down over your hips. Rocket, on the other hand, seems like he’s done this plenty of times before. The part of you that craves his attention—his approval—gnaws at you.

An intrusive thought pops into your head: how many other women has Rocket had undressing for him like this? Were they a little sexier? A little more sensual? Shit—maybe you should be taking your clothes off a little slower. You suddenly wish you had a couple more notches under your belt.

Rocket doesn’t seem to mind your inelegance though, watching you with rapt attention, head resting in his hand and eyes lidded.

His gaze never falters as more of your skin is unveiled. Soon you’re standing naked before him, only in your panties. You wrap your arms around yourself, struck with self-consciousness as you bare yourself for him while he remains fully clothed. His eyes trail over your stomach, the slope of your hips, the curve of your waist—the way your nipples pebble under the frigid air in the flight deck.

His legs spread a little wider, drawing attention to the way his cock strains in his pants. You flush, looking away.

You used to worry that Rocket didn’t really see you that way; that maybe you weren’t his type, or worse—that he saw you as a kid, or perhaps a sister. The hard line of his dick proves that theory wrong, and gives you a surge of confidence. You use your arms to subtly press your tits together, and Rocket whistles appreciatively.

“Can’t frickin’ believe no one else has ever gotten their hands on a sweet little thing like you,” he says. “Go on, princess. Don’t gotta be shy. ”

You sit down in the copilot’s chair, draping a leg over the armrest; your other leg is bent up against you, hiding the view of your soaking underwear from his sight. Rocket doesn’t say anything, and lets you play coy for now. You close your eyes and pretend you’re alone in your bunk. One hand reaches up to squeeze a supple breast, pulling hard against a nipple while the other trails down toward your cunt.

He looks momentarily surprised at how roughly you touch yourself, before humming in approval. You slip your fingers over your panties, enjoying the way the soft, wet fabric drags over the svelte folds of your cunt. Your hand dips under the elastic and your hips roll into your own touch as you rub tight circles into your clit.

“Open your eyes. Spread your legs a li’l wider,” Rocket commands roughly. “Let me see you.”

You do as he says and slowly roll your knees outward, giving him a better view. You then spit on your fingers, dipping them briefly into your mouth. Some of your saliva connects to your fingers in a line and dribbles onto your tits; you rub it in with one hand, while the fingers that were in your mouth sink into your cunt. Rocket groans, dragging his own palm against his length. Your eyes lock onto the front of his pants and you stroke your fingers in and out of yourself at a steady pace.

“That’s right. You listen so well,” he croons, practically salivating over you. “Prob’ly could’ve gotten you to beg me to fuck you cycles ago, huh?”

Everything he says is so hot and so embarrassing. You curl your fingers, and your hand drops from your breast to slide against your clit. “Ah—Rocket,” you moan, tilting your head and panting into your shoulder.

Rocket’s ears twitch at the sound of his own name, and his grin grows dark.

“I oughta just keep you like this forever. Have you fuck yourself for me in the copilot’s seat while I fly. You’re real good at it, you know,” he jeers, leaning forward in his chair, watching the way your fingers move beneath your panties. “Be a shame to let all that talent go to waste. Could be good for morale .”

Rocket laughs at your expense, and you glare at him half-heartedly. He’s just so damn cocky; it’d be irritating if he didn’t already have you practically eating out of the palm of his hand.

“What, did that piss you off, princess? Hard to look intimidating with your fingers stuffed in your cunt,” he says with a snicker. “Don’t act like you don’t love the idea of it.”

A soft schlick, schlick, schlick noise echoes throughout the cockpit every time you drive your fingers inward, giving away exactly how much you like his filthy mouth and even filthier ideas. Your hips begin to lift from the chair as you try to plunge your fingers in deeper and press your hand against your clit harder . Rocket groans at the sight, adjusts himself in his pants, and stands, stalking toward you.

He thumbs the edge of your panties, dipping a claw beneath the elastic then pulling, letting it snap back against your hip with a light sting .

“How much do you like these?” he asks mildly.

“What, my underwear?” You squint at him suspiciously, pausing your efforts. “Rocket,” you say warningly.

His claws dig into the fabric and he tears, ripping it away and exposing your cunt to the cool air. Your jaw drops. He’s such a brat.

“Rocket!”

“I’ll buy you even prettier ones?” he tries, pressing an apologetic kiss to your hip.

You scowl at him, unamused. “You are so, so lucky I like you.”

Rocket just chuckles and sighs dreamily into your waist. “Oh, I feel real fuckin’ lucky right now, trust me.” Your heart thumps. You roll your eyes and act like you don’t already forgive him.

Rocket lifts his head and his attention drifts downward. He brushes the hand on your clit away and replaces it with the pad of his own thumb. The sensation makes you jolt; his skin is rough and leathery, dragging deliciously against your sensitive nub. Your brain stutters, and you sigh.

“You poor frickin’ thing. Breaks my heart that no one’s given this tight, desperate little pussy the attention it deserves,” he coos. He briefly takes his hand away from your clit and shushes you when you whine. You try to pull him back but he proves too quick for you; instead, his hand dips lower to where your own fingers still pump into your entrance. “Look at you. You’re soaked. ”

His eyes flick back up to you. “Think you can take one more finger?” he asks.

You nod dopily, still missing the feel of him on your clit. You initially think he means for you to put another one of your fingers inside yourself, and jolt in surprise when his finger presses in to slide against your own within the heat of your cunt. “You’re so sweet to me. Takin’ everythin’ I give you so well,” he says, stretching you further. You gasp, mind warped with pleasure.

All too soon, he pulls his finger out of your pussy and holds it in front of your mouth.

“Open,” he says. You stick your tongue out to lap at his finger, and he takes the opportunity to dip it inside. You moan and begin to suck on it while he watches.

“Yeah… there we go,” he croons, pushing in almost far enough to make you gag. You stiffen at the intrusion, but force yourself to relax. “Good girl. Looks like you do take orders from me after all.”

You glower at him, clamping your teeth down gently but threateningly over his finger.

Rocket laughs. “So feisty. Let me make it up to you.” He releases your mouth and runs a hand along your thigh. “Is it okay if I eat you out?”

Your eyes widen and your legs shut reflexively. “No one’s ever…I’ve never done that before.”

He grins indulgently. “I figured. Isn’t that the whole point of tonight though? One last hurrah where you try every filthy little thing you ever dreamed of doing?”

You frown. One last hurrah?

This is more than just sex to you. You had thought…you’d hoped it was for him too.

You can’t contain the slight feeling of dread that starts to seep into you.

Rocket misreads your sudden silence for something else. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

You shake your head and recover quickly. “I want to try it. Please,” you tell him, offering a wan smile.

You can’t change how he feels, but you can enjoy the rest of the night for what it is. He clearly likes you to an extent, and thinks you’re pretty enough to fuck. That can be good enough.

You just need to reframe the situation. Reroute your thinking. This is a fun, spontaneous little stress relief exercise between two people on the brink of death.

Nothing more, nothing less.

You stomp down the ache in your chest.

Rocket, ever observant, can still tell something is off, but can’t place it. “Are you sure?” he presses. “I wanna be clear: I don’t want you to agree to anything just because you think I’ll like it.” He brushes a strand of hair out of your face in a manner that is heart-wrenchingly affectionate. “You call the shots. Whatever you want. That’s all that matters to me.”

This would be so much easier if he weren’t so damn kind.

You look away, because you don’t think you can hold his gaze any longer without doing something embarrassing like crying or worse—telling him you adore him.

“Thanks, Rocket. But I think it’s just nerves. I want to try it, I think.” You give him a shaky smile. “One last hurrah, right?”

“Alright. Just figured I’d check in,” he responds. Rocket tosses you a smug grin. “Bet when you ended up in space you didn’t think you’d be riding this kind of Rocket, huh?”

His comment startles a giggle out of you. You push his face away with the flat of your hand, feeling the way his mouth curves even further into a smile under your palm.

“You’re such a loser. You actually killed the mood,” you tease.

“Whoa, whoa! Get your hands off the goods, pal,” Rocket snickers, trying to turn his face away from your assault, before changing course and licking across your palm instead. You squeal and attempt to pull your hand away, but he grabs it and starts laying kisses into your wrist while he chuckles. You can’t help but laugh along with him.

You know what? At the end of the day, you’re spending what is probably one of your last days alive shooting the shit with your best friend, then fucking him. All things considered, it’s not a bad way to go.

You smile back up at Rocket—genuinely this time.

He lets his eyelids go hooded and heavy as he turns his attention back to his prize .

“I should teach you a lesson for bein’ so rude,” he hums lowly. He drags his hand from your hip and brings it to your core, before pinching meanly at your clit. You gasp, grabbing his forearm as if it’ll hold you steady. Rocket just laughs, and keeps rolling your clit between his fingers in a steady rhythm.

“Rocket, that feels so…” you trail off, riding his hand with a moan.

“Thought you said I killed the mood. This all it takes to get you to change your mind, sweetheart?” he mocks, bringing his other hand up to flick at your nipple. You arch your back into his touch and whine. “So needy.”

He leans forward, laving soft, wet kisses against your stomach and your hip, before making his way lower. He pauses once he’s kissed the crease where your torso meets your thigh, breaths away from your aching cunt. He cackles. “You’re dripping right onto the seat, baby. All this for me?” He nuzzles his face into your inner thigh, skimming his teeth teasingly against your sensitive, milky skin.

He places both of his thumbs on your core, letting his hands frame your pussy; he then spreads you apart, creating a clear view of your pearly clit and right down your weeping cunt.

Your pulse jumps up and some irrational part of you worries that he’s gonna stare down your pussy and figure out that he’s been a primary source of your wet dreams for quarters now.

You blush hard , reflexively covering your face with your hands.

Rocket, on the other hand, looks giddy, like he’s just unwrapped a goddamn present.

“Nuh uh. Eyes down here, dollface—and hands down,” he says soothingly, reaching up to pull your hands from where they press against your eyes. Once he’s placed your hands over your stomach, he reaches down again and pulls you apart even further, watching your cunt glisten. “Just look at you—all pink and perfect. Bet you’re real warm and tight, too.”

“You are so embarrassing,” is all you can think to say. It’s as if your brain flatlines every time he talks…Maybe it’s a good thing that his mouth will be occupied for the time being.

Rocket pinches the fat of your hip. “Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. You ready for me?”

You giggle a little incoherently, and nod.

Rocket, sharp-tongued and clever-mouthed, begins to lick his talents into your cunt.

His tongue runs along your slit; he pauses at the top to place a heady little kiss against your clit. You whine and grasp his head. He grunts when you tilt his head further into your pussy, letting him lap you up at his leisure.

You can’t tell which sensation to focus on—the heat of his breath on your folds, the slickness of his tongue as he laps his way up and down, or the way his fur tickles against the sensitive skin of your thighs.

His tongue feels completely different from your fingers too—so much hotter and wetter . How are you ever supposed to come again without him to lick you to completion?

And god, is this how it feels every time ? Is this what you’ve been depriving yourself of? You wonder if this is how it always is or if it’s ten times as intense because it’s Rocket .

His arms wrap around your thighs and he grips them firmly, keeping you still while you fight to grind your cunt further into his face. His nose presses against your clit while he leaves teasing little licks against your pussy, before moving back up to suck on the sensitive nub.

“Ah—go h-harder,” you plead.

You can feel him smile into you as he obliges your request.

You squeeze your thighs against his head, rolling your head back. He groans appreciatively, and continues to work at you, digging his tongue into your folds.

“Rocket— Rocket —please pleaseplease please—“ you gasp between breaths.

He eats you out like a man starved, like you’re dripping straight honey out of your cunt and he can’t help but take more. Whenever his mouth leaves your clit, one of his hands moves to continue lavishing it with attention.

You’re still so sensitive from his teasing earlier too—every suck and lick and probing press of his tongue onto your clit and into your pussy lights your nerves on fire.

Words pour out of your mouth and you begin to babble nonsensically, whining whatever pleas first pop into your head. Rocket strokes a hand soothingly down your hip as he pulls your legs snugly over his broad shoulders.

“I—I’m close,“ you cry out, sucking in air like you might never get to breathe again.

Rocket pauses in his ministrations to look at you darkly. “Yeah?” he asks, running his tongue up and down the length of you again, suckling at your clit with an obscene slurp.

“Yes, please don’t stop,” you beg.

Rocket pulls away from your core and you think you might cry. He presses a kiss to each thigh framing his head.

“Dunno…Don’t think you’ve done anything to earn it yet,” he says, giving chaste little pecks to your labia and in the area around your clit but never on it. “You gonna be good for me? Tell me you’re gonna be a good girl and I promise I’ll let you come.”

“I’m good—I’m a good girl,” you sob, “I’ll be good, please, I p-promise—Whatever you want—I’ll be so good , please, please, please—”

Rocket flattens his tongue over your clit and sucks while his fingers dip into your folds. It feels like it only takes seconds before your hips involuntarily jerk up against Rocket’s face and your body begins to burn white - hot . You rut up against him while he groans in satisfaction, muffled against your core. You feel like you’re on fire. You tilt your head back and all you can see are the cosmos coasting past the Benatar—for a second you feel like you might fall through the ceiling and float away into the stars.

Rocket patiently licks loving little kisses into your clit until you’re twitching and smacking his head away from your abused cunt.

“Wait—Rocket,” you slur, unsure if you want him to get away or grind your cunt even further into his mouth.

Rocket grins and keeps licking you just a second too long, enjoying the way your thighs tremble against him, before letting you go and resting his head on your thigh. He heaves a contented sigh into the skin there, and gives it a kiss.

You look down at him, his head still between your legs and the fur around his mouth a little damp; he drags the back of a knuckle across his mouth and licks the slick off of it before swiping his tongue across his bottom lip and oh, it’s a sight you could fuck yourself to for the next quarter at least.

“Not bad,” you say mildly, still catching your breath and smiling blissfully at the ceiling. Rocket glowers at you from the space between your thighs.

“Not bad?” he snorts. “You ain’t foolin’ me, sweetheart; I know I’m good.”

You swing your legs off his shoulders and stretch in your chair. Rocket stands up from his kneeling position and brushes off his jumpsuit like he just got done detailing a ship.

“There’s always room for improvement,” you respond breezily.

Rocket’s eyes go lidded and his voice drops an octave.

“Hey, if you’re offerin’ yourself up to me for a future training session then I’m not gonna complain,” he says, leering at your naked body still sprawled across the copilot’s seat. Your thighs inadvertently press together when you move to sit up, and even the minor pressure makes your sensitive clit buzz .

You let out a shaky sigh and lean forward to kiss him. He chases after you when you pull away, and you giggle.

“You’re so arrogant,” you respond. “Can’t blame me for wanting to take you down a couple pegs.”

Rocket scoffs and presses a kiss into your hair in lieu of a response. Your eyes slant downward and you catch sight of his length, still hard in his pants.

It brings you no small amount of pleasure that you did that to him; that maybe you have the same effect on him as he does on you. You feel your stomach flutter and you bite your lip unthinkingly. You suddenly remember that he is still very much clothed and you are very much not , and you decide that you want an opportunity to make his brain melt out of ears for once instead of the other way around.

You think about the way he looked, nestled between your legs, and wonder how it’d feel to return the favor.

“Can I use my mouth on you too?” you ask bluntly, eyes round and curious.

Rocket startles, stiffening beside you. “…You don’t have to do that,” he says, curling his lip and hunching his shoulders in an uncertain grimace.

“I want to try. Please?” You pout at him and his resolve immediately begins to crack. Still, he shakes his head.

“Tonight’s supposed to be about you, sweetheart. Thought I told you not to do anything just ‘cause you thought I might like it?”

“I mean, would you like it?”

He looks a little baffled at your question.

“What? I don’t see how that’s relevant.” He seems genuinely perplexed, like he can’t wrap his head around why his opinion on this would even matter. You glare at him and he concedes, rolling his eyes and holding his hands up in surrender. “ Alright , alright, fine…I’d be an idiot if I said I hadn’t thought about it before,” he says with a cough, sounding almost shy for the first time tonight.

Your eyes widen. You’re not entirely sure if he means he thought about it tonight, or if he means that he’s been thinking about you blowing him even before this unexpected turn in your relationship. Either way, his sudden bashfulness makes your heart swell with affection for him, and only makes you more determined to get your tongue on him.

“You said tonight was about what I want,” you tell him, dropping from your chair and onto the floor. Rocket wavers, watching you with round eyes. He then sighs, rolls his eyes, and brings your clothes over so you have a soft place to kneel.

You stifle a grin—he’s so sweet.

He stares at the clothes, seemingly unsatisfied, then unwraps his red scarf from his neck and adds it to the pile. You shoot him a dazzling smile and kneel on top of the fabric, testing the waters by placing both hands on his thighs. You can feel the way the strong cords of muscle in his legs contract under your palms. When he doesn’t move away, you bring a hand up to rest on the bridge of his cock where it tents his pants. It surprises you how thick and rigid it feels, and how responsive too—his dick jumps under your touch. You lick your lips and Rocket’s eyes grow heavy.

“What I want,” you continue, nuzzling your face into the thick length of him, “is you in my mouth.”

Rocket lets out a shaky exhale, and runs his hand through your hair. “Well shit, princess. How am I s’posed to say no to that?”

You smile in victory and begin to press shy, chaste kisses against him through his pants, trying to mimic the slow, unhurried way he’d lavished his attention into your cunt earlier. Rocket lets you explore, humming appreciatively before stepping back to undo some of the straps on his clothing and partially undressing. Once he’s rolled his jumpsuit down his torso, letting it hang lowly on his hips, he pulls you up and tucks the make-shift cushion of clothing under his other arm. He then settles back into the pilot’s chair, dropping the clothes onto the space in front of him, and beckons you forward.

Nervousness suddenly racks through you as you approach. You’re worried you won’t be very good.

All of your knowledge about this sort of thing is limited to what you’ve read about in your datapads and occasionally glimpsed in some of the raunchier holovids out there—certainly nothing true to life, and definitely nothing that’ll translate into any sort of skill.

Rocket senses your apprehension, and pats his thigh. “Hey. C’mere,” he says, taking your chin in his hand and tilting your head up to look at him once you’ve settled between his legs. “You’re so perfect. So pretty. So frickin’ eager to please, too. Hard for me not to wanna take advantage.”

You settle your hands on his thighs. “You might have to show me how to do this,” you confess.

“…That’s not a problem, sweetheart,” he says roughly. The depth of his voice sends pleasant shivers rolling down your spine. “I’ll teach you everything you need to know, and then some.”

He nods towards the tent of his pants and waits for you to move.

You reach forward and begin to free his length, fumbling a little with the fabric. Rocket doesn’t laugh or tease you; he just huffs and smiles softly, running his hand through your hair. Your breath stutters and your eyes widen once you’re faced with his cock. It stands rigidly before you, hot and curved; a slick line of precome rolls down his shaft, pooling into his fur.

You lean in curiously, eyes wide and a little manic, and his dick twitches at your nearness. The tip is blush pink and swollen; your eyes are immediately drawn to the sparkling bead of dewy liquid seeping from it. You take a finger and press it to the tip experimentally, tracing your finger down a vein and collecting some of the liquid that seeps out of his cock.

When you pull back, the sticky fluid connects your finger to his length in a line. You look dazedly at it for a moment before popping your finger into your mouth.

Hm. It’s salty.

Rocket chokes on his own breath above you, swearing lowly.

You flush, looking down at the floor.

“Hey—none of that. Eyes on me,” he instructs. You drag your gaze back upward. He sighs, and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “ Good girl. Go ahead and spit on it a few times. Lap it up; get it nice and wet.”

Okay. Easy. You can do that…you think.

You hesitantly run your tongue across the head, and Rocket groans at the contact, spurring you on further. You press soft, open-mouthed kisses against his shaft, letting drool spill from your mouth until his length glistens under the low light. His dick twitches, more precome spilling from the tip as you move to suck it into your mouth, letting it slip back out with a pop.

You furrow your brows and scrunch up your face in concentration, glancing up at him to look for signs of his approval.

Rocket snorts above you.

You pause, tongue still halfway out of your mouth, and look up at him questioningly.

“You look so serious down there,” he says, brushing your hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear. He pokes the crease between your brows fondly, then smooths it over with his thumb. “You’re thinkin’ too much. I promise you’re doing frickin’ amazing. Giving me the prettiest fuckin’ show.”

He takes a little bit of his own precome from his tip, and thumbs it into your mouth. You accept the offering eagerly, eyes closed, then focus once more on his hardness.

You lap at him intently, giving him sweet little licks interspersed with sloppy kisses, making sure to trail your tongue along a bulging vein that runs along the side of his cock. Then you spit on him, letting saliva drip down his shaft. You work until his cock has a slick sheen to it; you can hardly even maneuver around him now without getting spit all over your face but you kind of like it. You like the way you can feel his muscles tense under your hands as you press your mouth against him, and the way sighs rack his body as you move, and the way his dick twitches against your lips and your face.

“You’re so gorgeous, slobbering all over my dick like that. You look like a mess ,” Rocket tells you with a sigh. “I’m such a lucky bastard.” You smile and leave another wet kiss on the center of his shaft, and he shivers. “Why don’t you try wrapping your hand around it? Not too tight.”

You close your fist around his length experimentally, testing feel of his girth in your palm. You give it a gentle stroke upward and back down—a slick noise travels throughout the room as your palm slides against him.

He groans, then wraps his hand around yours. “Here—lemme show you.” He guides you into a gentle rhythm, showing you how tightly to grip him, how to twist your wrist as you slide your fist up and down his cock. He lets go and allows you to try for yourself. His hips stutter almost imperceptibly as you run your hand along his length. You pause for a moment, rubbing your thumb against the sensitive area where the bottom of his head meets his shaft, and Rocket’s hips cant upward once more.

He groans, then asks, “You wanna try sucking on it?”

“Um, yes. Do I just…?” You gesture vaguely. Rocket chuckles, giving you an affectionate pat on the head.

“You’re so flarkin’ cute. Yeah, just put it in your mouth and suck a little on your way back up. Use your hands on whatever you can’t reach. Mind your teeth.”

“Got it,” you say with a nod, heeding his advice with the same solemnity that you would on the battlefield. Rocket rolls his eyes at your seriousness, but still grins down at you indulgently.

You delicately wrap your lips around the tip of his cock, then sink down his length, trying to breath through your nose. Rocket sighs, tangling a hand into your hair. His claws scrape pleasantly against your scalp.

You begin to bob up and down shallowly, twisting your hand around the base, enjoying the way he fills up your mouth. Your senses are flooded with him and the way his cock feels pressed against your tongue, rigid and salty and warm. Overeager, you quickly attempt to force yourself down even further, only for your throat to reject him with a gag. You pull your mouth off of him with a gasp, coughing and teary-eyed.

“Whoa—slow down, sweetheart. You okay?” His eyes are wide as he strokes a hand soothingly through your hair.

You nod, clearing your throat with a giggle. “Whoops.” Your eyes are a little watery when you smile up at him, and he traces a knuckle along your cheek to catch a stray tear.

Rocket looks at you darkly.

“You know, as pretty as you look choking on it, that might be a li’l too advanced for you right now.” He considers you, on your knees between his legs, lips wet and sticky, eyes teary, eager to stuff his cock back into your mouth. A vicious smile spreads across his face. “But maybe some other time. We’ll train that gag reflex right out of you,” he croons. “Not that the way your mouth feels ain’t already real impressive. Seems like lovin’ dick comes naturally to you, princess.”

You glower at him, moving to lave open-mouthed kisses against his shaft again. “You talk too much.”

“ Do I? ” Rocket tuts at you with mock offense. “Don’t act like you don’t love it,” he says, guiding your mouth back onto his length.

You allow him to maneuver you, humming around him as you attempt to stifle a moan. He grunts and bucks his hips into your mouth as the vibration of your voice carries throughout his cock, and you hold still for him, doing your best to control your breathing. Drool spills out from the seams between where the plush of your lips meet the pulsing length of his cock.

As you gain more confidence, you begin to bob your head up and down with more vigor, sinking lower and lower every time.

Rocket taps your cheek to get your attention and places his hand on your head once again; he’s not pushing down, but his grip is firm . You still your movements and look up at him, his cock still halfway down your throat as you hum questioningly around him. He sucks in a shaky breath at the sight of you, before drawling his encouragement.

“Come on. All the way down,” he says a little raggedly. You slowly attempt to sink your mouth further onto his cock. Your vision is filled with the fur on his abdomen, and his heady musk fills your brain dizzyingly. You press your tongue against him in your mouth, working him deeper down your throat. “Uh huh. Little further, princess. You can do it.”

You whimper and push yourself to your limits, only stopping when your nose is pressed against the fur at his crotch. “ There we go. A fuckin’ natural. ‘s like you were born to fit cock in your mouth,” he moans, and you swallow around him. Rocket lets out a choked groan and holds you there for a second, before pulling you off of him, a line of drool connecting your mouth to the tip of his cock. You sputter, and smile shakily up at him.

“I must be frickin’ dreaming,” he pants, stroking his cock while he looks down at you kneeling before him.

You giggle deliriously, leaning forward to lave a playful lick against him while he works his own cock. He twitches and bucks his hips up into the air, rubbing the head of his cock into your tongue for a moment, before gently pushing you away.

You frown. “Is something wrong?”

“What? No. Just, uh…Any more of this and I’ll probably be coming in your mouth.” He holds a hand up when you open your mouth in protest, grinning at you. “Maybe next time. Don’t want it to be your first.”

Your heart pounds. Next time? You will yourself not to get too excited at his offhand comment, but…if the both of you live to see this through, you hope there will be many next times to come.

Rocket stretches and tucks himself into his pants, letting his tail brush against your lower back as he moves past you. You watch him dumbly. He turns and raises a brow, then holds a hand out to you, waving you upward.

“Let me take you to bed, sweetheart.”

You tilt your head, blinking owlishly. “We’re not gonna do it out here?”

Rocket shakes his head and looks around. He spots one of the jackets he has slung over one of the other chairs, then takes it and wraps it around you as he helps you to stand. Your knees wobble a little as you try to find your balance.

“Listen gorgeous, as much as I’d love to bend you over on my favorite part of the ship…” he starts, looking longingly at the surface of the flight console, “…I’m not gonna let your first time be out here on the frickin’ flight deck. ”

“You sure? I might love it too,” you respond playfully. Rocket gives you an exasperated look.

“You deserve better than that. A real bed, for starters. Hell, I’d get you sheets made of Spartaxian silk and the most expensive bottles of imported wine I could find, if we had more time.” His expression softens. “Let me take care of you.” He holds his hand out again.

“Lead the way,” you smile.

You take his hand and let him guide you away.

—

Ao3 | Masterlist | If Only for Tonight Index

#gotg fanfiction #guardians of the galaxy #reader insert #rocket raccoon #rocket raccoon fanfiction #rocket raccoon x oc #rocket raccoon x reader #rocket x reader #IOFT

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