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#rocket raccoon x you
raccoonfallsharder · 15 hours
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@thirteens-lucky-tardis once shared with me this adorable raccoon offering up a flower (dandelion??) and i have not been able to get it out of my head. i submit for your approval two versions: one a little closer to the real raccoon’s expression and one that has imo more skottie-young//shit-eating vibes ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ thanks for the inspo rowen, you flawless perfect seashell, you sugary seasonal latte
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rocket above is quite chagrined and trying to win you over
rocket below is gonna eat you for dinner
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oolongteaboba · 11 months
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# ◞ ˚ ─ RED LACE (OR LACK THEREOF)
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info. rocket raccoon/f!reader smut. est. 3.2k words.
you and rocket share the same bunk, so you've been wearing nothing but a shirt to get his attention. and who knows? he might like you back.
a/n. hi hello first actual post on here! quick comment for the fingering part, just pretend rocket stole peter's nail clippers LMAO, i forgot to clarify that while writing whoops. also, you can alternatively read the fic here on ao3.
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In the past year you’ve spent with the guardians and living on the Milano, you began to appreciate each of them unconditionally; you were family, and they were yours.  Peter, a Terran like you, was a great conversationist, and you bonded over things you missed from Earth.  Gamora’s intimidating sometimes, but she acts like the sister you never had and has your best interests in mind.  You haven’t known Mantis for long, but she’s kind and gentle; plus, she’s starting to warm up to you.  Drax is some fun company, although most of your jokes fly over his head.  Groot clings onto you like a puppy, and the sprout insists on sitting between you and Rocket during dinnertime.  And well, Rocket is… Rocket.
Aboard the Milano, you shared a small bunk with Rocket and Groot.  Tonight, Groot was in Gamora’s bunk since she had Groot-bedtime-story-duty tonight, so you and Rocket had the already cramped bunk to yourselves.  Sharing a room with the two of them wasn’t entirely terrible, but you do have to deal with Rocket’s tech stuff being scattered all over the floor.
His bed wasn’t too far from yours, with the space between you only about two feet.  He’s working on a new set of blasters; you’re laying in bed on your back with your right leg over the left.  After being engrossed with his equipment for who knows how long, Rocket looks up from his machinery to glance at you.
“Christ, does it hurt to put on some pants for once?”  Rocket interjects, and you turn your head toward him.
“We share a room together.  You’ve seen me change before, and that never fazed you.  Besides, Groot isn’t even here.  It’s just us.”  He only replies with a huff and an eye roll.  “Besides, why do you care so much?”
Rocket scoffs, crossing his arms and furrowing his brows.  “I’m not the one walking around in a loose shirt and fuckin’ red lacy underwear.”
You avert your eyes from his as your cheeks grow hot, and you pull the hem of your shirt down mid-thigh to preserve your already damaged dignity.
“It’s all that was clean,” you mutter below your breath, just loud enough for him to hear, although from the look on his face, he doesn’t believe you.  “Plus, it’s hot in here, Rocket.  The air conditioning isn’t working correctly, we’re in space, and you haven’t fixed it yet,” you reply, uncrossing your legs.  He inhales sharply, returning to his blaster.
“I told you already, I don’t have the right parts yet,” he snaps at you.  “Go fix it yourself if you’re gonna be a bitch about it.”
“So the oh-so-great Rocket Raccoon can build bombs from scrap material but can’t fix the AC unit?”
“I ain’t a raccoon,” he snarls, and it takes every fiber in your body to resist the urge not to continue teasing him.  “And I told you this shit already: we don’t have the needed parts.”
“Y’know, maybe I’ll start walking around with pants on if the air conditioning is fixed.”
Rocket exhales and lets out a small pfft that almost sounds like a quiet laugh.  “You’re bein’ whinier than Quill right now, know that?”
“You’re so sweet to me, Rocket.  Have I mentioned you’re the kindest person on this ship?” You smile, albeit sarcastically, and the corners of his mouth instinctively curl up in response.  You catch his brief smile for a fleeting moment and make eye contact, but he promptly looks away in embarrassment.
(You might tease him about it later, though.  He’s smiling because of you.)
“Go to sleep, doll.”  Rocket absentmindedly shoves the machinery onto his makeshift nightstand with a slight grin still etched on his features.  His disposition has improved in the past year; he smiles a lot more, though he tries to hide it, and the guardians have noticed.  Not that he’d ever admit it, of course.
“What about you?  Aren’t you going to sleep?”  His eyes look into yours, albeit briefly, and they’re warm, brown, and pretty, and you internally berate yourself for not noticing them sooner.
“Nah.  You Terrans need more sleep than I do.  And you look terrible, by the way.”  You fail at attempting to stifle a giggle at his sudden change in demeanor, which Rocket barely notices.  
“Aw, thank you, Rocket.  Love you too.”  Your eyelids flutter, and you pull a blanket over your body.  “You might not be Terran, but you should sleep too, y’know.  You’re always reprimanding Groot for staying up late, you hypocrite.”
Rocket’s features soften; he shoots you a toothy grin, although there’s a thought nagging at you, telling you there’s more than just sarcasm in his eyes.  “Yeah, yeah.  G’night, doll.”
You shoot Rocket a smile that’s brighter than the damn sun before shutting your eyes.  Unfortunately, you’re asleep before you can say ‘good night’ back.
-
Three nights later, tonight is Drax’s turn for Groot-bedtime-story-duty.
The temperature in the Milano isn’t as nearly inhabitable as last time, all because of you and Quill’s endless pleas for the AC to be fixed.  Thankfully, Peter hates absurdly hot weather just as much as you do.  Either that or hatred of heat is a Terran thing.  Somehow, the broken air conditioning didn’t affect the other non-Terran guardians on the ship as much.
Al Green’s Let’s Stay Together plays faintly in the background; you’re lounging on your bunk, back against the mattress, as you read one of Quill’s childhood comic books when the door opens, and Rocket enters your shared bunk.
As soon as he walks in, Rocket scoffs and rolls his eyes.  “For the love of god, I fixed the AC as you asked.  Put some goddamn pants on.”
“Hello to you too, Rocket,” you give him a smile before continuing reading, too focused on Quill’s comic book to notice Rocket’s blatant gawking at your exposed legs.  Your leg props up on the other, leaving almost nothing to the imagination.  “And I said maybe I’ll wear pants.”
He jumps in bed, setting Quill’s helmet at the foot of his bunk.  After a job that included killing Abilisks, Peter reluctantly handed it over to Rocket for some significantly postponed repairs and upgrades.
“You’re lucky, know that?  You’re the only person on this ship besides Groot whose shit I tolerate.”
“I love you too, Rocket.  Although, I’m pretty sure you’d shoot Quill if he started walking around the Milano with no pants on,” you answer, eyes still glued to the comic book.
“The only difference is that Quill isn’t the one walking around in his underwear.”
“Rocket, I honestly can’t see why it’s a big deal.  It’s been days since you won’t shut up about it,” you reply, setting Quill’s comic on top of your nightstand.
Rocket looks at you before sighing defeatedly, with some feeling that you can’t put your finger on captured in his eye.  You swallow your spit, and Rocket returns to his bold, unapologetic self.
“Fine.  Fuckin’ hell, we get it, it’s your bunk, and you can do whatever the hell you want-”
He pauses.  Rocket’s eyes trail down from your face to your body, taking in every inch of your revealed skin.
However, it’s too late for you to realize what exactly Rocket’s ogling at.
“Are you… not wearing anything under that shirt?”
You blink, promptly closing your legs (undoubtedly knowing it won’t do or change anything).  The already small space between your bunk and Rocket’s seems even smaller.  Your heartbeat picks up in your chest; Rocket is still rendered speechless.  You’ll never hear the end of it, you swear.  His gaze meets yours, but you don’t answer.  What feels like an eternity passes before Rocket speaks up, breaking the silence.
“You dirty fuckin’ girl,” he swears, his tone both degrading and impressed.  Rocket steps down from his bunk and closer to yours, his eyes drinking you in.  From the look on his face, he looks as if he’s about to devour you whole.
“Rocket.”
Hesitantly, Rocket steps back, giving you space.  “Shit, sweetheart.  I’m sorry.  Tell me to leave, and I will.”  He’s reluctant, although the tent in his pants slowly grows, and he isn’t hiding it well.  “We can forget about this.”
“Wait,” you immediately protest before rationale can stop you, grabbing his wrist before he can pull away and leave.  “You can stay.”
From the look on his face, it doesn’t take him much convincing.  He knows what you’re thinking of (and knows what you want).  Rocket tenses; a few moments pass before he speaks up, unsure of what to do next.
“Can I touch you?”
You groan in response, both desperately and unashamedly.  Both your voice and body are tempting, practically inviting Rocket in.  He’s thought of you like this: both in daydreams and dreams, but he never would’ve imagined the moment (or you) to be more perfect.  “Please, Rocket.  I need you so damn badly.”
(Rocket’s definitely gonna bring this up later.  However, anything but him is entirely off your mind.)
He gladly complies, and his hands go underneath your shirt to meet your chest before massaging your breasts.  The sensation of his paws is foreign but welcome, one hand playing with your nipple as his tongue swirls around the other, gently nipping at your flesh.  He continues sucking, maintaining eye contact while your face burns from the intimacy.
The sound of Rocket’s mouth leaving your tits makes an explicit and wet pop sound, and drool pools in the corner of his mouth.
“Fuck, doll, I’ve been thinkin’ of doing this forever.  Couldn’t stop thinking about you since I got a look at that pair of that red, lacy underwear of yours and could barely keep my fuckin’ hands off.”
Rocket continues his ministrations on your chest, with one hand traveling down to your thigh, close to your puffy clit.  You elicit a formerly suppressed moan from your lips, much to Rocket’s inflated ego.  His pace is slow and teasing as if he’s waiting for you to break and beg for him to quicken his pace.
“Shit, you’re so pretty like this, all for me,” Rocket whispers in an intonation you can barely hear, almost impressed by how receptive and eager you are for his touch.  The ache between your thighs gradually amplifies from his praises, and you weaken at his attention.  Your breath quickens as his fingers trail up your thigh and languidly circles around your needy clit.  All words are stripped from your tongue, leaving you unable to speak.  Rocket’s fur almost tickles your skin as he marks love bites on you, hard enough to bruise.
“Fuh- fuck, Rocket, you feel so damn good,” you pant, air seemingly wrung out of your lungs.  “I need-”
You’re cut off by Rocket giving your cunt a firm spank, drawing out an embarrassingly vocal moan.  “Need what, dollface?”  He grins with a look of pride planted on his face as he gives your breasts and cunt much-needed attention, albeit slowly.
“I need you inside me,” you mewl, your cheeks feeling hot from the humiliation.  You know Rocket knows what you want; he’s eager to give it but wants to hear you beg for it first.
Somehow, his grin grows even more.  His slow circling on your clit stops, and you audibly groan, wordlessly begging for him to continue.  “I’ve barely touched ya, and you already want my cock inside?”
“Fuck you, Rocket,” you huff, heat building inside your lower abdomen and goosebumps growing on your skin.  “Please, I need you.”
He slips a paw inside your dripping cunt, and it takes a few seconds to get used to the new feeling.  “Gotta be patient, sweetheart.  You’re so pretty when you’re like that, know that?”
You nod, relishing the feeling of his fingers finding your G-spot, then slowly curling upwards.  Though his hands lack girth, he makes up for it with agility.
“Was this 'no panties' stunt all for me, dollface?”
“Yes. All for you, Rocket,” you answer absentmindedly, too focused on how good his fingers feel inside you.  Rocket’s fingers develop a languid rhythm, scissoring and stretching your walls to fit his cock.  You bite your lip to keep back a whimper but fail.  With every movement from Rocket, you feel yourself melting into the blankets and mattress, reduced to putty in Rocket’s hands.
“Keep going,” you mutter, surprised at your current capability to form words.  Rocket’s fingers gently press against your G-spot, eliciting a moan.  “G-go faster, Rocket.”
Instead of speeding up as you hoped, he completely stops, leaving you to writhe underneath him.  You tense up, missing the blissful sensation of his paws working inside you.  “What happened to you saying ‘please,’ huh?  You can do better than that, dollface.”
You tighten around his fingers, and you can practically feel the grin on his face as he waits for your pleas.  “God, fuck, Rocket, you know damn well what you’re doing to me,” you groan, heavy breaths interrupting almost every word.
“Try again, sweetheart,” he retorts, savoring the desperation all over your face.  Eager to feel more of him, you steadily move your hips, fucking yourself onto his fingers in response to his refusal.  “Beg me for it, and I’ll fuck you, just like you wanted.”
“Please, Rocket?  I need you to fuck me, please; I want your cock inside me so goddamn badly- please just fuck me already-”
Rocket, convinced by your pleas, complies and interrupts you by undoing his clothing and unzipping his pants while you whimper at the sudden removal of his now-soaked fingers.
He lines his hips up with yours, the look on his face ravenous; he finally pushes into you slowly.  You’re left to grip tightly on his shoulders, watching as his cock disappears into you.  He’s smaller than an average male human but relatively girthy, and you feel his tip brush against your G-spot.  You whimper from his entrance, feeling full as he completely bottoms you out, massaging your inner walls.
Rocket’s breath hitches as he slowly starts to work you open, his hands spreading your thighs apart for better access.  He groans, setting a languid pace as he ruts into your warm and inviting cunt.  You raise your hips a little higher in response, aching to feel more of him.  His current tempo is sloppier than before, now being guided by his pleasure instead of yours alone.  The wet sound of Rocket’s hips rolling into yours is pornographic and explicit; you can hear him fucking in and out of your cunt.  You’re sure that your wetness has gotten all over Rocket’s fur by now, but at the moment, he doesn’t mind.
One of his hands leaves your thigh to offer attention to your swollen clit, gently circling around it, while the other hand grips you harshly.  Rocket becomes noticeably more vocal as his pace quickens, albeit opting for low grunts and moans.  The pleasure builds up in your lower stomach, and your lower lip trembles as you grip the bunk’s bedsheets.
“Shit, Rocket, you feel so good,” you mewl, stumbling over your words while he erratically thrusts into you.  Rocket’s greedy for every moan that leaves your lips, hoping to wring every one of them out your mouth.  He grunts, pace unfaltering as your walls flutter around his cock, tightening around him like you don’t want him to let go.
“You’re doin’ so well for me, sweetheart,” Rocket huffs, his almost soft voice contradicting his frenzied rhythm.  You whimper and whine with each thrust, enjoying how Rocket fills you up with his cock, and how the curve hits your G-spot.  “Such a good fuckin’ girl for me.”
Tension builds in your stomach, and your toes curl from the sheer pleasure.  Despite Rocket’s unrelenting tempo, the feel of his hands and the look on his face is strangely soft and tender.  His fingers circle around your clit more quickly, and you feel heat spread under your skin.
“Rocket, I’m getting close,” you murmur, the burning coil within your abdomen intensifying with each second he pumps inside you.  With a moan, you let out a shaky breath as he rocks his hips into yours, feeling dangerously close to your climax.  From watching him loudly groan and how he haphazardly ruts into you, he’s also close to orgasm.
“Fuck, doll, you’re so beautiful like this,” Rocket praises, inhaling sharply as his cock twitches inside you.  “C’mon, sweetheart.  Cum on my cock.”
Without a second thought, you nod, succumbing to pleasure as Rocket pounds himself into you, his hand rubbing at your clit.  Tiny beads of sweat pool on your forehead as you begin to finish, and Rocket rolls a thumb over your nipple, almost encouraging you to cum.  Your walls spasm around his cock, begging him to do the same.  The feeling of him inside you, combined with the constant attention your clit receives, is overstimulating, and you’re barely able to hold back from coming.
“Inside me, Rocket,” you beg, trembling from sensitivity and euphoria.  “Please, cum inside me.”
Rocket only grins, a smug look forming on his face.  The white coil only amplifies, reducing you to a wordless, desperate mess underneath him until it finally snaps, and you come undone on his cock.  Eyes rolling back from the increased pleasure, you see stars in your blurred vision; you spasm around him, and with a few last strokes, Rocket cums inside you, emptying himself inside you.  His pace slows as you convulse around him, attempting to milk every drop of his cum, and your heartbeat slows from its high.
His last strokes are sloppy and frantic; Rocket huffs as he finally drains every bit of himself inside you.  Your muscles tense from aftershocks, and you hear Rocket silently swear.  With an embarrassingly wet squelch sound, Rocket pulls out his cock, leaving some of his cum to drip from your cunt, and onto your thighs.  Trying to regain your strength, you momentarily remain silent, basking in the afterglow, and he does the same.
Your breathing is labored, still coming down from your high.  “Sorry I got your fur wet,” you beam, your knees still weak from copulation, and Rocket lets out a low laugh.  You shift your body over to the far side of the bunk, offering Rocket space to sit next to you.  Without a word, he complies, his back laid against your front, and he sighs in contentment.
“I’ll shower in the mornin,’ doll,” he replies, fixing his messy hair, attempting to freshen up.  Rocket’s head rests on your neck; hesitantly, you put your arm around him, but he doesn’t mind it, although it takes him a second to adjust to the newfound affection.  You contentedly sigh, languidly running your fingers through his soft fur, and Rocket practically melts at the touch of your fingers.
“Y'know, I really like you, Rocket,” you quietly whisper, although just loud enough for him to hear.  Rocket doesn’t respond for a few seconds, leaving you in empty silence and a tiny bit of nervousness. 'Love' is a strong word; the word 'like' is weaker. However, right now, both don't fit right coming out of your mouth. It's too late to retract saying 'I really like you,' but before you can conjure a second thought, Rocket gathers his voice.
“Yeah.  I like you a whole lot too." Your face softens, and you wrap your arms around him, surprisingly being met with no protest from Rocket.  You softly kiss his forehead and doze off into slumber, Rocket huddled in your arms. Tomorrow morning, you’re certain Star-Lord would barge into your bunk to wake you up for the next contract, but for now, you’re happy to lay in bed and worry about it later.
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mytheoristavenue · 11 months
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GOTG Rocket Raccon x Reader - You Don't Have to Like Me.
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Summary: Ever since you joined the team, Rocket has always had a chip on his shoulder about you. Now that he's the leader, you question whether you should stay with the new gaurdians.
Warnings: Angst, fluff, vol. 3 spoilers, takes palce after vol. 3, mentions of character death, mentions of the blip/snap
You smiled, reaching your fists toward the ceiling of your hotel room, hearing joyful music from outside. The concpets of last week's events were still surreal to you, and you hadn't quite processed them or the feelings that they had generated. You'd decided to simply take a few days to rest in solidtude after everything that happened.
Sractching at your door demanded your attention as you slipped out of bed, kicking into your house shoes. Wandering over, you opened the door, once again smiling softly at who was on the other side. "Good morning, Cosmo," you said, voice cracking with sleep. You reached over to a nearby table, taking a dog buscuit from an old tin before tossing it to her. She caught it between her teeth expertly, wolfing it down with a giggle. Once done, she sat obediently in front of you.
"He's looking for you." she said knowingly. "You said after a few days you'd come out, but not yet. Why do you hide?"
Your relaxed grin faltered into a somber one. "I won't be hiding much longer, Cosmo. I made my choice." Your reply seemed to spark something in the canine, prompting her to bark and jump up at you, licking your face before regaining her composure. "Oh, (Y/N), I knew you'd stay! I-!"
"I'm leavng, girl." your voice cracked a bit as you held back tears, smile still forced onto your lips. The dog instantly froze, halting her celebration to look at you, heartbroken and you reached out to pat her head.
"Is not funny." she whimpered, slowly padding closer to you before stopping short again, looking passed you at your luggage. "N-No...you can't leave."
"Cosmo-" you tried to interject, her rising upset as she began to back out of the room. "H-Here, have another treat and we'll talk about this-" Before you could reach back into the tin, she was gone, having darted out of the room sobbing, leaving you with slumped shoulders and a heavy concious.
"You've gotta stop pissin' off my crew." Your head snapped up toward the doorway to find none other than the captain himself standing there, sillouetted in the dim hallway light.
"Rocket..." you trailed, unsure of what to say. "I heard you wanted to see me?"
"That's true." he nodded, slepping inside and kicking the door closed behind him. "Been looking for you for three days now. Checked your apartment but you weren't there."
"I moved." you excused sheepishly.
"I could tell." he rolled his eyes. "And concsidering this is the second hotel I've tracked down that has you in their system, seems like you just keep moving."
"Just antsy, I guess." you laughed nervously, stepping further in front of you luggage, in hopes he wouldn't see.
"And I take it I'm just supposed to ignore all your shit over there in a conviniently portable little pile, right?" he ask rhetorically. "I hope that's so you can move into another room to keep hiding from me and not what I think it's for?"
You sighed, finally giving up the rouse, perfect posture faultering as you slumped down onto the bed. "I thought I'd go travelling. Live up the transient life, ya know? Maybe go check out Terra, meet up with Quill-"
"(Y/N), quit rambling, you know I hate that shit."
"Sorry."
Rocket shooked his head sternly, hopping up on the bed with you, letting his legs dangle off the edge. "So, you're really leaving?"
"Theres nothing left for me here." you shuttered, holding back tears. "Mantis was my best friend and I don't even know where she went, the Guardians are done, Quill's gone-" you stopped, should you begin to shed tears. "Everyone that's still here has a purpose in staying, and I don't."
"The Guardians aren't over, just made-a different people. Still got you and me, and Groot." He offered, stealing a glance while you stared down at your lap.
"You never considered me a Guardian, Rocket." you retorted, your tone suddenly taking a sharpness neither of you were ready for. "Just admit it."
"Bullshit." he scoffed, rolling his eyes and looking away, dramatically slapping his thighs. "You know better than that. What's this really about?" You sniffled, feeling the willpower to hold back your unchecked emotions much longer. Your fists clenched at your knees as the first offical tear rolled down your cheeck, falling away from your skin and hitting your clothed leg. The raccoon eyed you closely, concern growing more and more evident on his brow as he leaned closer. "(Y/N)?"
"I watched you die, Rocket!" you finally shouted, sobs freeely tumbling out of your throat. "I watched your heart stop and I held you for dear life and I begged you to come back! I cried over your body and held you so tight than your fur shed in my hands!" you shuttered, bringing up a hand to wipe your tears against your wrist. "You always hated me but I care about you so much and I just can't see you die again! I don't want to have to go through that again!"
Rocket was utterly speechless, what was he supposed to say? 'There, there'? "(Y-Y/N)? I-" he tried cautiously, but paused, having forgotten to find the words to say before opening his mouth. "I-I don't hate you..."
"You've never once been nice to me, Rocket..." you accused, giving him a side eyed glare before obscuring your face again.
"I-I know, but..." he swallowed harshly, gleaming eyes trained on you. "I never hated you..." Silence befell the room, only interupted by your distress hiccups. This was definately not the 'talking to' Rocket had imagined giving you once he found out you were thinking of leaving. "Look, I shouldv'e said this earlier but...I want you on my team. Sure, it'll be a little different with the kid and whatnot, but we'll-"
"I said no, Rocket." you snapped, malice powering your voice.
His brows furrowed as he knodded in aknowledgement of your choice. "Fine, but just so ya know, I watched you die too once." You froze, immediately understanding what he was refferring to. "Not to throw a pity party, but I don't think you know how it feels to have everything you have ever known or loved ripped away from you all at once." he spat, jumping down from the bed, on his way out the door. "Twice."
"I didn't think me being gone bothered you as much as the others..." you confessed quietly, eyes still glossy.
"That's what you get for assuming. Makes an ass outta you and me." he retorted over his shoulder. "And for the record, I did miss you when you were gone. So fuckin' much." You had long since begun to feel an overbearing weight of guilt as your wrist cralwed up toward your chest to soothe its ache. "And I'm never gonna stop missin' you after you leave."
"Rocket," you barely whispered, but he heard you, his ears twitching instantly. "I'm so sorry..."
"This might be kinda sappy," he sighed, making sure to turn away from you so you wouldn't be able to read his face. "but I love ya." You were blown away, unable to form coherent thoughts, let alone words. It had always been so rare- almost impossibly so- that Rocket ever spoke freely about what he felt, but it seemed that after what happened last week, he was a new person. He was nicer, more open, more serene. Perhaps he'd made peace with some old, injured part of himself. "I tried to fight it for a long time. Thought I could only love one person, and that now that she's gone, nobody could ever make me happy again. But you do." He paused for a moment, taking a deep, awkward breath. "And I'm sorry I was such an ass to you while figurin' that out."
The warmth you felt in your chest was immeasurable as you collapsed to the floor and lunged towards him, engulfing him in a much needed hug. You sniffled, tears pouring down your cheeks, absorbed by his wiry fur. Rocket was initially rigid, unable to forsee this reaction in you, but he eventually loosened his muscles enough to wrap his small arms around your neck. "I don't knwo what to say..." you admitted.
"Don't say anything," he replied, nuzzling into your collar. "You talk too much already." After a few moments of just holding eachother in silence, he spoke up again. "Look, I can't offer ya much. I can't promise to be the perfect man and I'm never gonna sweep ya off your feet." he sighed, pulling away and holding you at arms length. "But I can keep ya company, keep ya safe..."
"I don't need any of that stuff, Rocket. I just wanna feel wanted..." your breath shuttered,
"I want you." he mumbled, his voice trailing off as he lost his train of thought. "I don't really know what I'm doin'. I think I need somebody to keep me in line, a smartass who ain't afraid to talk over me." Glancing down at him, you found him looking back smirking. "Don't suppose you could give me any names?"
"Groot?" you snickered, cheeks still red and damp from crying. He joined you in a laugh.
"I was thinkin' somebody a little more cuddly, ya ever try cuddlin' a tree? I've had thorns in my ass for years."
"Cosmo?"
"(Y/N)." he finally said half sternly. "I want you to stay here with me. What do I gotta do to get you to stay?"You suddenly felt so serene here with him, under his touch and lazy sense of humor.
"Well..." you began cautiously. "If I did stay...would I just be a Guardian to you?"
Rocket glanced away, finding it hard to face you for long periods of a time while he made himself so vulnerable. "You can be whatever you want to me. What do you wanna be?"
"I kinda wanna be your partner..." you confessed, also looking away in the opposite direction. "Like, romantically."
"I don't think I can do that, (Y/N)..." His answer shattered you and your blood ran cold. You were so confused, surely you couldn'y have gotten a wrong signal?
"W-why? I thought-"
Rocket laughed, cocking a brow at your gullibility and tilted his head. "Feel like theres probably a rule out there about the capatain fraternizing with his crewmember. And i wouldn't want the others to get jealous if I treat you better..." You remained silent, unable to disern if he was playing with you or rubbing salt in the wound until his tiny hands found home on your cheeks, pulling you closer. "But then again, I never cared for rules much." Before relief could fully wash over you, he'd pulled you in, nuzzling each of your cheeks gnetly- his version of a kiss. You returned the gesture after a moment, not fully understanding it at first.
"So you wanna be my partner, huh?" he finally asked, parting and putting a small amount of distance betweehn the two of you. You nodded, unable to catch your breath under his gaze. "I reckon that can be arranged then, under a few conditions."
"What's that?" you asked, cautiously.
"Go get your apartment back and unpack all this shit." he laughed, tossing a thumb over to your pile of luggage. "And you gotta promise not to abuse your power." he smirked, carnivorous teeth gleaming in the daylight that poured in from the window.
"What power?"
"Well," he started, shrugging cockily. "Sleepin' with the captain always has it's perks-"
"Rocket!"
530 notes · View notes
am-i-interrupting · 11 months
Note
Omgsh could I ask for
Rocket x Fem!Reader
With this prompt: "You're so cute when you're nervous." Said by Rocket pls 🙏 ❤️ and thank you!
Distracting
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Tags: 583 words, fennec fox!reader, fidgeting, fluff
Rocket didn’t understand people. He didn't understand how they saw things but he understood that he didn’t see all the colors they did. He couldn’t see every shade and maybe that’s why he couldn’t get the appeal of so many things others did.
He’d never understood attraction until he met you. It took time. It wasn’t instantaneous. When he met you though, he knew you’d be different. He’d never met anyone so. . . cute.
He hated to use the word. He knew how it felt to be seen as nothing more than a cute animal or a disgusting one depending on the person. It was all he could think of to describe you though. It didn’t matter the situation, he found you adorable.
It took getting to know you for that fondness of your cuteness to turn into being attracted to your personality. He wouldn’t admit it, though. He couldn’t allow himself.
He didn’t know why. He just couldn’t but he also couldn’t do nothing. Teasing you became a favorite thing of his.
You were fidgeting with something he’d made for you some months ago. He said he did it so he wouldn’t have to find fur everywhere. You had a habit of over grooming when you were anxious. He really did it because he was worried about the growing bald spots in your coat as a result.
He should make you another one. You’d used it so much that the gears were beginning to wear and it wasn’t working like it should. He was going to make you another one. He just needed to finish this first.
What exactly was he doing? Right. Repairs. He just needed another screw.
He looked around his set up for a moment. Hands patted the ground and picked up his tools and he found one. It was the wrong size. He placed it back in it’s case. Then he stood.
The rest of the screws were in a box over your shoulder where you leaned against one of the cabinets. He looked at you for a moment. Your gaze was off as your hands moved feverishly. Your ears twitched at every sound that even he couldn’t hear. Something was on your mind. He didn’t have a clue as to what.
He stood with a sigh and dusted off his paws. He could distract you though. Maybe not as much as you often distracted him but he could try to distract you just for a moment with truths he wouldn’t admit were true.
He walked over to you, intentionally invaded your space so you’d be forced to look at him. He smiled at you.
“If you wouldn’t mind, I need something behind you, sweetheart,” he said, placing a hand on the other side of your body so you couldn’t move.
“Rocket, I—“
He reached with his other hand for the box. He looked at you with your ears folded back, paws drawn to your chest as you clutched the fidget, eyes wide, mouth slightly opened. Adorable. Fucking adorable.
He grabbed the box and leaned forward. “You’re so cute when you’re nervous,” he said into your ear.
He took a chance. He meant to only tease you by bonking his head against yours. He was surprised (and you seemed to be as well) when you leaned against him for a moment. He froze and as did you. Then he nuzzled against your face and moved away, back to his work. Flustered and doing a horrible job at hiding it.
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rocket-our-baby · 8 months
Text
No Dreams were prettier
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a/n: ₊✧˚﹕︶︶︶﹕૮₍ ⸝⸝´ ꒳ `⸝⸝ ₎ა﹕︶︶︶﹕ ˚✧₊
You can find out more about me & pls read my disclaimers here.
Masterlist here
Rocket x fem!reader oneshot
Can be interpreted romantically or platonically (personally I like the one where they’re in-between and figuring it out before confessing; please feel free to read it the way you want.)
Just a fluffy oneshot to hopefully brighten up your day or soothe any of your acute/chronic/pms pain <3
Yes I wrote this when I was very very sick lmao like literally when I was cold sweating from the pain but nonetheless no particular warnings apart from mentioning of pain, except for extra pointless fluffs ahead behold
The title of this is kinda foreshadowing to what I hid at the end of the fic, and it works both ways ✵彡
English is not my native language (I just read tons of fanfics to keep on truckin’ and now here I am, still alive)
Ok the foreword wouldn’t necessarily be any longer in my future posts it’s just, this is like my first official fic posted here on this blog over the past decade since I deliberately avoided SNS so, kindly bear with my oversharing and thank you for stumbling upon here!
Hope you enjoy <3
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╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮
𝒩ℴ 𝒹𝓇ℯ𝒶𝓂𝓈 𝓌ℯ𝓇ℯ 𝓅𝓇ℯ𝓉𝓉𝒾ℯ𝓇
info: rocket/f!reader, 3.1k words, 99%pure fluff, sfw, oneshot
summary: You’re sick, and Rocket is worried. He tries not to show it by acting rationally, but it’s very obvious.
note: is possibly one of the chapters in the domestic fluff slice of life series between rocket, the best pilot in the galaxy and the best captain any Terran girl can ask for in space; and the reader, a Terran from Terra living her not-so-normal life in space, with a talking raccoon.
╰────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╯
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banner edited by me ✵彡
“Hey,, Rocket… I could use some help… I guess”
Without turning around, Rocket glances up at his back and raises an eyebrow in curiosity, his paws still automatically tinkering with whatever new tools he’s fixing.
“Yeah? What's goin' on, doll? You sounded… weird.”
…only to find you in extreme pain and distress.
“And looked weird.”
Your face in agony, pearls of sweats forming on your forehead, your eyes barely focusing on him, nor are they on anything frankly.
“I’m feeling… bad… like a stomachache bad…”
You sound weak and breathy, but you slowly approach him in small and stumbling steps, both of your arms hugging yourself tightly applying pressure to your stomach, your fingertips digging deep into your soft flesh, bearing the pain and preventing yourself from screaming. Cold sweats all over your body, your voice weak, lips and face pale, as you sit — more like fall — down near him all of a sudden.
Rocket's eyes widen in shock, quickly setting his stuff down and rushes over to help you.
“Whoa, hey, hey, doll, y’alright?”
He gently places his paws on your shoulders to support you enough to sit up, as you give in to his embrace, finally feeling a sense of relief. Looking at you up and down, he nervously assesses your condition and instinctively sniffs for any blood, checking if you’ve had any wounds.
“How long have you been feeling like this?”
He certainly doesn’t sound like his usual self. That snarky, sarcastic, smartass cocky bastard.
“Around half an hour I guess… there’s no one on the ship right now and I’ve been shivering uncontrollably,,”
You let out a weak chuckle and smile bitterly at your own reply.
“I didn’t want to bother you cuz it’s your free time as well, but it’s becoming unbearable… as if my stomach is burning like hell and twisting… like there’s an alien inside ready to burst o-”
“Uh-huh, yeah I know I know.”
Rocket cuts your reference there and sighs in concern as he takes your forehead in his paw to check your temperature. He’s heard this before. From Stark from a kid from Terra called Parker, or something. He doesn’t care right now. All he can focus on at the moment is you, and your well-being.
“But girl, this is definitely not just some minor thingie. How's your appetite? Any vomiting?”
He furrows his brows, trying to figure out what's wrong.
“Not so great…I’ve just been drinking some water. A constant urge to vomit but nothing.”
As Rocket checks up on you closely, he notices your brows furrow in affliction, your lips pale white, your hands slightly shaking and your body shivering but also sweating due to the discomfort. He tries to avert his worrying gaze by turning to examine your body, but it doesn’t escape your Terran instincts.
“Okay... ‘kay, alright. How's your breathing? Any chest pains, difficulty catching your breath?”
He presses his ear near your chest to check your breathing rate and your heartbeat, his paw moves to your abdomen, pulling your shirt upwards to feel your skin and applying some pressure to gauge your sensitivity and any possible organ ruptures in that area.
“Yes, other than feeling like my stomach has become your bomb storage and they’ve all been exploding simultaneously this whole time, it’s alright… still alive I guess.”
You let out a slight sigh feeling Rocket‘s touch on your belly, half-chuckle at your half-joking reply despite struggling to merely keep your eyes open.
Rocket chuckles a bit at your snarky remarks, but then his face turns serious again as he continues observing your condition. Not saying anything, he grabs you by your waist and supports you to walk to a nearby sofa and gently helps you lie down. That’s an order, he said, just for you to chuckle weakly. Not that you’re gonna complain about any of it tho.
“Hmm, okay... this certainly doesn't sound good... d’you have a history of stomach problems? Anything that I’m unaware of?”
He shifts his body to the side, feeling for your liver with his left paw, and keeps applying slight pressure to your abdomen with his right.
You breathe weakly, as you continue to shiver feeling the endless twisting of your organs, but you seem to look a bit better now that Rocket is rubbing gentle circles on your stomach. Your breathing is slowly stabilising compared to a few moments before.
“Yeah I guess… since I was small, I’d often experienced stomachaches whenever I was nervous… or stressed. But this is not supposed to happen when I’m now an adult. I mean, I haven’t been that nervous for quite a long time. Not even when fighting monstrous aliens alongside you guys, y’know.”
“With us, you mean.”
You chuckle softly and weakly as he said that sternly.
The sudden flush of torturing pain causes your brows to furrow tightly again, sweats forming in the creeks of your frown, your eyes on the verge of tears.
“But my stomach has always been weak, to be honest… there’s no Terran food out here, y’know.”
You tell him the honest truth but still insist on playing around a bit in spite of how much your body aches, hoping to ease the atmosphere and not to worry the raccoon too much, given your current state.
It pains him even more to see you like this — always saying you’re okay, joking around to lift your crew up, pretending to be fine.
Rocket’s facial expression softens as he nods in acknowledgement, still monitoring your condition and applying slight pressure on you hoping to make you feel better, his fingers lingers through your soft skin and tracing gentle circles, careful not to hurt you even more.
“Huh... doll, don’t die on me just yet tho, this could be anything from an infection to an organ rupture, but it’d better just be one of your nervous stomachaches. Well, maybe when you see me.”
He smirks and turns to grin at you playfully, all the while continuing to feel for your spleen, and then shifts up to your chest to feel your lungs and heart.
His gaze remains locked on you, watching for any changes in your breathing patterns or expressions.
“Let's just hope it's nothing too serious. Hey, any drinking these days? And how have your bowel movements been lately? When’s your last ‘code red’?”
You blush slightly when his left paw reaches you chest to feel your heartbeat, his claw in your cleavage. You can’t help but smile softly at how serious he looks and sounds when checking up on you.
“Hey Rocky…I didn’t know you’re also a medical doctor apart from being an awesome mechanic and the best pilot in the entire galaxy.”
You grin playfully, looking at his beautiful bright brown ambers. As if they make you forget the pain - for just one second, you thought you’re gonna lost in his hazel eyes which has seen a lot in the universe, maybe more pain that you do, than you’ll ever do, maybe more than you can ever fathom.
For a second, the physical pain you’re experiencing becomes nothing more than noticeable, as your heart aches so much it drops just from the mere thought of what he has endured.
Rocket chuckles softly and lightly taps your forehead with his free paw, just to make sure your mind isn't wandering off too far from the situation.
“‘kay doll, let's not get carried away. I'm not anywhere close to a medical doctor, I'm just here to make sure you don't keel over in the next few minutes. Now stay still and answer my question, will ya? That’s another order.”
“Yes, capt’in.”
You giggle softly, can’t help but smile at him and reassure him there’s (prolly) nothing wrong with your cycles nor daily intakes. Since when did your period elevates to code red btw? Or is it just the colour..?
You don’t even have the energy to wander around anymore in your mind and decide to close your eyes again. Despite the constant distractions…of… his paws.
He continues to feel your chest and your abdomen, occasionally glancing down at your bare stomach to see if the pressure is bothering you or not. You notice how his ears perk up at any noise from your stomach and his whiskers twitches when he’s sensing any discomfort from you. You can’t help but indulge in the feeling of his touches, the smooth motions of his paws, keep thinking how cute he is and admiring how attractive he looks when he’s working on something seriously. Especially when that something is now you.
As the burning of your stomach brings you back to the reality, you chuckle softly at his snarky response, one thing again that you secretly love him for.
“Well… and here I’m just buttering you up to be my teddy bear for the day.”
You smile weakly and sweetly despite your very pale lips.
“And I also love the feeling of your soft paw on my chest.”
You giggle softly, and flash him a wan smile before another flush of pain comes in.
Rocket smirks and chuckles at your flirty comment, but only briefly before continuing his examination.
“Yeah, okay, that was cute and all, but you're the one with an excruciating stomachache, so let's stick to the task at hand, shall we?”
He presses down slightly harder on your abdomen and then listens to your gut for any signs of trouble.
“I just wish I had a stethoscope handy right now...”
He sighs and then leans down to place his ear over your abdomen, listening for any noises that might indicate something suspicious.
You smile at his seriousness and chuckles softly when the soft fur of his and his whiskers touch your now exposed skin, tickling you a bit but also soothing your pain. Maybe it’s just a diversion, or maybe it’s just you craving the feeling of hugging a teddy, or maybe you just wanna hug him… so much.
“It’s alright, Rocket… You’ve helped me a lot already.”
You just can’t resist the urge, as you slowly reach your hand to scratch his head and the spots behind his ears, smiling lovingly at him.
“And y’know, I think… this could help.” You gesture the current action of his by your chin, clearly indicating that you’re feeling better when Rocket is lying on your tummy.
It takes all of Rocket's willpower to stop himself from giving into the urge of just burying his face in your soft, warm chest, instead he remains sitting upright while listening to your gut. After a few seconds, he raises his head and looks at you.
“Yeah, I think it definitely helps. Your stomach's not roaring as loud as before, so that's a good thing. And that slight pressure seems to make you feel better as well.”
He looks down at you, the hint of a grin on his face, still holding back the desire to just bury his face in your neck. He’s got some more serious observations to do, as he pulls away and sits up.
You fake a playful frown.
“Hey, and there I was buttering you up to be my cuddly teddy bear for my not-feeling-so-well day! Ouch-!”
You chuckle softly at your own half-joking reply. But you do mean what you said.
“More like nearly-dying-from-no-missions day to be frank, dollface.”
He lets out a sarcastic chuckle and shakes his head.
“Come on, do you expect me to actually jump on your chest and snuggle up with you?”
He glances down at your stomach again, pressing down slightly. He should be focusing on this right now. Yes, this, not that.
“Still feel okay? You still in pain?”
His voice is a bit softer and quieter now, and you know he is still concerned about your wellness.
“Hmmmm… yes, if you’re not lying on top of me and if you still don’t snuggle with me and be my fluffy cuddly teddy bear/ heat pad for the day right here right now, then yes, very painful.”
You fake a playful pout, and chuckle softly at your own “childish” response, more like at the audacity of yourself to say it out loud to Rocket knowing that he’d not snap you back as harsh when you’re in this state, before smiling and opening your arms for him.
Rocket chuckles, but then rolls his eyes and groans as you gesture for him to come over and cuddle and heat you up.
“Seriously?”
He fakes another eye roll, and sees your almost teary puppy eyes — both from the real pain and from your mischievous idea of planning to cuddle with him.
“Okay fine, alright, if it'll make you feel better...”
He grumbles for a moment before sighing softly. Then he moves to the side, scooting a little closer to you, and then carefully lays on top of you, making sure not to move around too much in case he hurts your stomach.
“Happy now, princess?”
“Very, capt’in!”
You giggle when your wish is granted and then happily wrap both of your arms around the raccoon, feeling his rough but fluffy fur and his warm body.
“Thanks… Rocket.”
You gently pat his back with one of your hands and scratch the back of his head with another, smiling lovingly at his ears tickling the crook of your neck as his head is buried in your soft chest.
Rocket looks up at you for a sec before turning away. Your expression shows that you’re still bothered by the pain, but your face now has a shade of pink to it. Rocket wonders if it’s due to his body heat warming you up or any other reasons.
“You surely are a manipulative one when you’re not feeling well, aren’t ya?”
Sighs Rocket, as he chuckles and replies with a sly remark, regardless, he is smiling softly lying on your chest. His eyes looking at somewhere far away, as if he’s cherishing the moment and pondering… something else.
You giggle softly.
“It’s good to have someone to take care of me for once, y’know. I’m usually the one doing the caretaking… not that I don’t enjoy it tho. It’s just,, it’s a nice change of pace.”
You smile warmly while rubbing gentle circles on his back, and cuddling him a bit more, feeling his heartbeat and his fur coating your bare stomach.
Rocket chuckles softly and scoots in a bit closer, pressing his head against your neck, and allowing himself to relax on top of you.
“Yeah, no kiddin’. You're like the unofficial mom of the group, y’know.”
He seems to enjoy the moment, laying peacefully on your chest, feeling your soft arms wrap around him and your fingers playing with his fur. He smiles contentedly, letting out a deep and calming exhale of breath that he hasn’t had in more than a while.
“Y’know, doll... there's not many people I'd feel comfortable relaxing like this with.”
“Well, that’s my pleasure.”
You let out a giggle and smile lovingly at him, as you keep gently scratching his ears and massaging his neck, but careful enough not to hurt him by gently rubbing the knots around the implants and metals on his body. His muscles feel tight and tense. He surely needs a proper massage some day, you thought and note that to yourself.
“It’s really good to have you around, Rocket… really.”
Rocket shifts slightly to better allow you to reach his ears and massage his neck, not wishing to risk messing up the comfort at the moment.
He closes his eyes and presses his head further into your chest, sighing contentedly.
“...Y’know, for someone who's got a stomachache and is in torturing pain, you seem to be enjoying this quite a bit.”
You giggle softly, your hands keep patting him gently in a relaxing pace, resembling that of your own heartbeat. With him in your arms, your body is no longer quivering, you’re breathing now at a much calmer rate. You smile contentedly with your now less pale lips upon hearing him.
“Well,, for someone so rough and tough and fierce and snarky outside you surely are a lil’ soft ball for me.”
You let him bury his face into your crook, and giggle playfully but sweetly to him.
Rocket chuckles at your remark, but his gaze softens a little as you continue to pat him, still allowing him to lie on top of you as your soft body and your arms wrap around him, his body heat warming you up.
“I'd say it goes both ways.”
For once in who knows how long, he feels his tensed up body relax completely. Turning his head slightly to the side to give you access to his cheek and neck, his eyelids drift shut as you keep patting him gently, allowing himself to relax even further. You notice how the tension of his body loosen up and how his breathing has slowed down.
“I say… you should fall asleep on me like this today. You’re my personal teddy bear for the day, remember?”
He snickers at your comment playfully but then closes his eyes again, feeling safe and comfortable in the warmth and softness of your body and arms. After a moment of silence, he whispers into your chest, his voice sounding tired and relaxed.
“Yeah yeah, yeah, you win, doll. Anything for my girl.”
He lets out a slight sigh as things have eventually gone along your plan. Not that he’d complain though.
Feeling his warmth, you wonder if he’s a literal ray of sunshine. It’s as if all the pain has been drifted away by the river of warmth he radiates. To you, now, and you only.
“...I'm not gonna lie, I'm enjoying this...”
He closes his eyes and savours the moment, taking in the feeling of your gentle touch and your sweet, calming voice.
“…a lot.”
He whispered in an almost inaudible voice as he turns to you after a while, but notices how your eyes are now closed, your facial expression relaxed, your breathing has already slowed and he feels your tummy rising slightly up and down in a steady and relaxing pattern. Your lips now a lot pinker, curving in a contented smile.
He smiles to himself and sighs contentedly, as he lets himself relax on you and slowly drifts off into a dream that you two share in the incredible vastness of the galaxy, into the blooming stardust of the short-lived meteor shower shined upon the darkness of space, into the inevitability of the ever-lasting infinite universe, one that you two will be exploring together in the years to come.
“Sweet dreams, doll.”
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𝐈 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬
𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞
𝐍𝐨 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐫
𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐭.
fin.
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♡︎s, comments and rbs are appreciated..!
hope you enjoyed it, and have a lovely day ₊✧˚﹕︶︶︶﹕૮₍ ⸝⸝´ ꒳ `⸝⸝ ₎ა﹕︶︶︶﹕ ˚✧₊
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157 notes · View notes
aliasrocket · 9 months
Note
hiiii do you think rocket would be the kind to get jealous if he saw reader and peter being a little attracted to one another and getting close since they’re both the only humans around, even if the reader liked rocket too? (btw i’ve read your other works and i’ve been eating it UP so thank you 😩)
Thank you for reading my stuff!! I’m really glad you liked it :>>
Rocket is definitely the jealous type even if it isn’t Quill. But it being Quill would definitely make it infinitely worse because they’re close, and it would feel a little like betrayal even if reader isn’t dating anyone.
masterlist. requests.
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“Hey, got some of the terran stuff you like,” Quill said, handing you a box.
“Oh my god, chicken, my favorite!”
“If that’s your favorite, you’re seriously missing out on terran delights,” Quill remarked dramatically.
Rocket stood by the corner, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and his hands gripping his arms with his claws buried in his flesh.
prior to Peter’s arrival, Rocket had been showing you the ins and outs of a blaster he’d made just for you. It was something you’d been wanting for a while now and the moment leading up to this night had all been worth it when your face lit up, jaw hanging at the sight of a brand new weapon made by Rocket himself.
you go to the kitchen to grab some water and Rocket ambled over to Peter.
“Perfect fuckin’ timing, Star-Lord,” he grumbled bitterly.
“What?”
“I was showing her the blaster I just made her!”
“I just thought she was hungry, she’s a picky eater, you know?”
“Of course I knew that! Why wouldn’t I know that?” Rocket snapped in a hushed tone, turning to the kitchen every now and then.
“I’m watching you, Quill.”
“What—”
“I’m watching you.” Rocket shoots him one last glare before you reappear with a glass in your hand.
But instead of turning back to Peter as Rocket predicted, you apologized to him and turned right back around to the couch.
“Hey, sorry I was just finishing the food Peter gave me—so what was that about the safety feature on the trigger?”
Rocket paused, hands cold in their frozen tracks on your new blaster. He holds it up again, smiling to himself.
“It’s over here. You just flip it over and you’re free to wreak havoc and destruction wherever you goddamn please.”
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itsscromp · 4 months
Text
Swifty
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This story goes to fellow Swifty and friend @rogertaylorswift I hope you enjoy this :D. Word count:996
It was no secret to the entire team that your music tastes were completely different to Quill's. Sure you did like some 80s every now and then, But you were more onto the modern side like Dua lipa or the weeknd.
But my god if you ever get mentioned Taylor Swift, You would be on cloud nine and never come down, She was your favourite artist of all time. Listening to her from the very beginning, It was hard whenever you were asked to pick a favourite song from her. She was just incredible.
Rocket wondered where you had been all day, All you said was you had to go out for a little while and that was about it.
"Where did ya go humie ???" He told himself that, you constantly joke about how he worries for you whenever you go out on missions or in general. While he continues to deny that. It was true, I mean come on your his best friend.
He then saw a cargo ship hyperjump nearby, and soon began to receive a radio transmission.
"Sorry I took a little longer buddy, Had to get some stuff for the ship too." You said over the intercom.
"Well get your butt back on the ship, Better brought back more of those cookies with milk on them" He said playfully.
"You mean oreo's ??"
"Yeah that, Man those names are strange" He chuckled.
Boarding back onto the bowie, You then brought the bag to the main dining area and began to unpack, Once unpacked. You rushed back to your room with the bag still in hand, It was like you were eager about something else inside it.
Maybe it was a birthday present ?? Rocket thought to himself, No don't be so stupid, Quill's birthday was 2 months ago now and no others are coming up for now. So with curiosity getting the better of him, He went to your room and investigated.
Knocking on the door of your room. "Y/n, you in there ??" He didn't hear anything, to begin with, So he tried to knock again but still no answer.
He then opened the door to find you lying on the floor, with headphones in your ears. "No wonder you didn't say anything" He muttered to himself, Then he saw the portable CD player in your hand and then the cover next to you.
He walked over to you, Opening your eyes to see him looking at you. "Hey, what's up ??" You smiled sitting up.
"I tried knocking on your door, But obviously you are a little preoccupied" He smirked then found the CD cover, Picked it up and looked at it. "Taylor Swift ??" Like we discussed, He doesn't know much about the modern music you listen too.
"Yeah she re-released her album 1989 today and I just had to go down and get it, Oh it's so good so far !!!" You said smiling, slightly kicking your feet.
"Woah woah hold up humie, re-release ??, Wasn't the old version good enough or somethin" He tilted his head in curiosity.
"So to put it lightly, She's re-recording all her old albums so she can have ownership of them, not her manager" You explained.
Now you peaked his interest. "Oh flark it, I got some time to kill, I'd assume you have her other CDs ??" He asked, Probably already knowing the answer.
You nodded as you reached under your bed and pulled out your CD box, Then grabbed out all 10 of her albums. Rocket was slightly baffled about how many albums she's put out. "We'll save the re-recorded ones for another time."
So you stopped the CD you were listening to for now and whacked in the very first one, Country music was something Rocket normally liked so he'd feel right at home for the first few albums.
"She ain't too bad so far" He was softly tapping his foot to Picture to burn, that being his favourite one.
"Ok next up is fearless, This one really blew her up"
"Wait she's dead ??"
"No, when a human says blow up, we mean oh they got even more successful than before" You chuckled, to which you earned a playful nudge from him. "Ok let's see what this is" He placed the earbud back in as you pressed play.
Most of the album was romantic songs, but there were a couple that he did like, Like Love Story or You Belong With Me. You could even swear you heard him starting to hum along. Then after that, you moved onto Speak Now which was ok, But then Red was played you hit the nail on the head. He started to softly sing I knew you were trouble.
"Are you singing the song ??"
"No I'm not" He quickly denied.
You giggled and ruffled his head "You like it"
"Hey hey, Watch the fur" He chuckled as the song continued.
"You know, She's really good. Gotta say y/n, you have really good music tastes... Well better than quill at least" He smirked, Hoping he could hear it.
"Thank you for giving it a chance though buddy, I do appreciate it" You smiled genuinely at him.
"What are friends for ??"
You two continued to listen to the albums together in peace, In a way, it made the bond between you two grow, just sitting there listening to the music. He himself started to become a mild Swifty, His favourite albums from her are Folklore and Evermore, They were a little more slower-paced and quieter than the others. But one day you heard and walked passed him briefly belting out cruel summer when he thought no one was looking. That you'll keep to yourself for now... Until you felt like teasing him. But you were glad Rocket liked her as much as you did, Now the crew have to deal with two besties belting out the music at 1AM together.
Taglist: @callofdudes @fun-k-board
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zodiacs-web · 8 months
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Lover is a Day
╰₊✧ Rocket Raccoon x Fem!Reader
╰₊✧ Synopsis: Cuddling and rain
╰₊✧ What's in the web: fluff, reader is a red panda for two reasons: 1 for me and 2 because i hyper fixated on red pandas for a bit ○( ^皿^)っ Hehehe…
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Small hands run across soft fur, attempting to hold onto her as he turns onto his side to grab his tablet. They've been asleep for a few hours now, and he doesn't want to ruin it. He checks the time and knows they've got two hours before they get to the designated spot.
It's a mission he doesn't really like, yet the money is worth it. He places the tablet back onto the nightstand before his hands land on her dark fur. Suddenly, he hears small taps, one by one by one, and then comes more, rain. It's raining.
He hadn't heard rain in a while, and it reminded him of something. In the planet, Tangle, where they are, it rarely rains. He doesn't want to wake you up, but he wishes he does so he can show you this rare phenomena. He closes his eyes before looking down to stare at you, a large fluffy red face and whiskers he gently plays with.
He loves how your large tail is, wrapped around his leg and large paws that are placed on his chest. Despite your large features, you're still quite smaller than him, and he finds that adorable. All while he admires you, he suddenly feels you shift, your eyes opening to reveal black beady eyes. He smiles when he hears you groan into his arm. You momentarily close your eyes before looking at him.
"How long...?" You murmur while he chuckles at the question that is barely a question at all.
"Two hours until the mission." He responds, his voice soft, yet the raspiness of his voice lingers. He sees your ears move before you speak.
"It's raining?"
"Yeah, on Tangle rain is rare here."
"Oh! That's really cool."
He almost laughs at how the conversation ended but you're still tired, so he'll let it go. He feels you snuggle up into his chest, inviting him back to sleep, and of course, he takes it. Turning his body so that you lay on his chest while he's on his back, his hand wrapping around your waist before closing his eyes and falling asleep.
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alylee-s · 10 months
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I'm writing something… and I was wondering if it would be interesting to post it when it's ready. Here's a little fragment:
When you arrived, you sat on his bed, quickly took off your sneakers, which fell with a thud to the floor.
You heard Rocket's voice from the doorway.
"Hey…"
"Hm?"
"Are you sure you want to do this?"
You were halfway through taking off your tights when the hesitation in his voice made you stop.
"Well, I'm taking my clothes off, right? what does that tell you?" you said as you smiled and tilted your head to the side in a naughtily way.
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countrymusiclover · 8 months
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Part 5
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Part 6
His Sky
@aintinacage @haru-reto
I stirred in my sleep where my tail and legs started kicking around thinking I was back in my cell with the High Evolutionary where I was afraid until I felt someone's hand on my side. Blinking my eyes open I released a sigh of relief seeing that it was Rocket who was touching me. "Ah!..Rocket?"
"Huh…what is it, Sky?" He shifted in his sleep rubbing his eyes but he didn't move away from me at all. He just blinked his eyes looking at me silently.
Laying my head back against his chest I hummed tracing patterns with my paws. "I just thought I was back there. That…all of it was a dream - ow!"
"If you can feel that then it's real. You're back with me." He tugged on the end of my tail where I winced when he did so being serious to prove a point.
Scrunching my nose I nodded in agreement at the raccoon. "I suppose you're right, Rock."
"I'm usually always right." He added on proudly.
Silence filled the room where he appeared to be going back to sleep. I wasn't sure if we should stay in this room or go outside and not feel trapped. "Rocket?"
"Hmm." He made a noise with his eyes closed.
Rolling over onto my side I met his brown eyes. "Am I meeting your team today?"
"You want to meet my family of supposed idiots." He made a confused face.
Nodding my head yes at him. "Yes. If they're your family I should meet them right. I don't want to come off like I can only be with you."
Rocket made a noise jumping down from the bunk and I followed and landed right in front of him. "Alright but I want to see how you are with a blaster later. So we're gonna work on that." He rummaged around in a crate until he found some goggles throwing them on top of his head.
"Alright, fine." I smiled tilting my head to him with a light smirk.
He squinted his eyes. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Cause you look cuter with your goggles on." I nervously said, rubbing a hand down my arm, dropping my gaze to the floor.
Rocket froze for a moment before he shook his head. "Oh uh…thanks."
He flung open the door letting me out first before he led me through the ship seeing that we were still flying through space. Putting my hands down at my sides still only wearing the shirt that Rocket gave me. We moved around the corner coming to see five different people that had helped us save the other animals. “Who is the strange animal by Rocket?” The one that was named Drax pointed at me while eating another bag of supposed nuts.
“My name is Y/n. Y/n Squirrel.” I waved my left paw at them introducing myself.
The blue looking robot woman stood by the table. “You faced worse than what Thanos did to me. Both of you did.”
“Don’t talk about it!” Rocket growled up at her. “I’m the captain so you listen to me.”
The guy that was named Quill stepped up correcting him. “Actually I’m the captain.”
"Who is the smarter one here? The cyber-genetic raccoon or the Terran who did a dance off to save the galaxy." Rocket put his hands on his hips rolling his eyes at him.
Knitting my brows at my friend I didn't understand. "Dance off. Are you serious right now? Did you forget we aren't in some musical movie where you could have died thinking that would work."
"It actually did work though." Quill told me.
Putting my arms across my chest rather than at my sides I tilted my head slightly. "Did you know the likelihood of you coming out of that alive was 1% to 99%. That is like the worst odds in the galaxy."
"She acts almost like Rocket." Drax dryly chuckled finishing his nuts.
Gamora asked. "So are you a raccoon or something?"
"I'm not a RACCOON!" I growled jumping up from the metal floor almost biting on her arm when I landed back on my feet making her jump backwards. "Don't you people have an anatomy book on animals? I'm a squirrel."
There was a girl with antennas on her head that tried to touch my head laughing. "Drax played a practical joke on me like that once. I found it very funny."
"They really are stupid, except for the blue women." Leaning towards Rocket I whispered in his ear when he glanced out the corner of his eye at me. The ship suddenly shook where I stumbled over into Rocket’s chest where I wrapped my arms around his neck losing my balance. “Woah, what was that?”
He barely wrapped his arms around me not wanting to show them he was so innocent. "We're landing, baby. Don't throw up on my fur now."
"I wouldn't do that, Rock." I glared at him.
The antenna lady clasped her hands together. "Awe she's nicknamed him. Rock, short for Rocket."
"No one else calls me it but her or I'll destroy your clothes!" Rocket snarled tugging me towards the seats of the spaceship. He climbed up in one of the seats pointing to the one beside him. "Take Quills seat Y/n. He won't mind and strap in. I'll get us home."
The Terran said, offended. "That’s the captain seat, Rocket.”
“She’s my co-caption, Quill.” He rolled his eyes while I connected the buckles together before he yanked a lever shooting towards the ground quickly doing some flips then finally landing on the ground. The ship door opened and I followed the gang down.
“Hey, I need to talk with everyone.” Quill turned around to face the group once we were all standing on the dirt ground in front of him with the ship behind us.
Rocket shrugged his shoulders when I sent him a confused look with my tail swaying side to side while his tail was lowered down to the dirt. “I never know what’s running through his head. Regardless, ya can bunk with me.”
“Okay that works.” I said to him following my raccoon friend and I suppose you could say romantic partner.
Our group entered one of the large rooms where they had clearly been living in until they had to leave and come save me. The blue lady that was apparently named Nebula spoke to her friends. “We're building a new society. I need all the support I can get for those children out there. Today, I saw who you are. You weren't born to be a destroyer. You were born to be a dad.”
The Drax guy smiled at her words with Rocket sending her a look raising a brow. “So you'll lead the Guardians then?”
“No. I'm going to lead the city. Make it the type of home I never had.” Nebula explained to him.
I watched Rocket’s shoulders slump and his voice broke when he asked his group of friends, causing me to reach out for his hand and intertwine my fingers with his feeling sad for him even though I didn’t know these people. “So that's it? The group's over?”
“No. Well, the galaxy still needs its guardians. And you will make a better leader than I ever was…Captain.” Quill responded before he hit his hand over his left side of his chest and the others did the same thing,
The talking tree smiled down at Rocket and I. “I love you guys.”
“Rocket you and your adorable friend will be a cute couple.” The antenna lady smiled brightly.
Rocket waved his freehand at her. “Don’t make me get more mushie than I already am, Mantis!”
“We should be a good pair after he teaches me how to use weapons.” Shrugging my shoulders I smiled squeezing Rocket’s hand since he hadn’t pulled away from me.
He glanced at me, smirking. “Co-caption Y/n don’t sound so bad.”
“I’ll follow your lead to the sky, Captain Rocket.” Raising my freehand I mimicked what his friends had done with a proud smile. Any life with Rocket would be better than being in the lab and cages of the High Evolutionary.
Comments really appreciated ❤️
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romanoffshouse · 3 months
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Thor: I love you, guys. You're the best thing that ever happened to me.
Rocket: We're the best thing to ever happen to you?
Thor: Yes
Rocket: Now I'm starting to feel a little sorry for you.
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raccoonfallsharder · 2 months
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I just found out Rockets VA can sing (really good actually) do you have any headcanons based on that?
mmmmm. sorry for the delay, i got distracted by rocket prompt week and also by thinking about rocket crooning in your ear.
he’s always humming, you know? (this is not a headcanon — it’s in the movies.) he’s often humming while he works. and that scene on berhert? where he’s sort of purring along with the music while plotting severe injury to the incoming ravagers? i…
sorry. focusing.
im sure the first few times you hear him mumbling lyrics under his breath, you damn near need to excuse yourself. you know you can’t call attention to it — in a best-case scenario, he'll stop singing entirely. you say nothing, and your silence is rewarded: rocket's mumbling a tune — so low your toes curl in your boots — almost whenever the two of you are working quietly on some project or another. most of the time, he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. the rest of the time, he thinks you can’t hear him.
once, while the entire crew was dicking around in the common room and rocket started humming under his breath, pete had commented on it. you'd shot him a murderous look but it had been too late: rocket’s ears had gone flat and his tail had tucked between his ankles and his eyes had swiveled around the room. he'd been shifting and snapping out harsh words so frantically that you were sure he was scarlet under his fur. you’d had to go a miserable dozen cycles before you’d stumbled across him lilting low to himself again in the engine room one night.
fuckin pete. you still haven’t forgiven that guy.
but things get easier — at least between you and rocket — after that. there's a day when rocket looks up and realizes that you can hear him — maybe you're swaying slightly to the sound of his voice, or lightly tapping the soft pads of your fingertips like raindrops on your knee. he stumbles to a fumbling halt. you don’t say anything, though: you just pass him an encouraging half-smile before returning to whatever you were doing. you’ll hang out with him regardless of whether you get to lull yourself to the sound of his deep, pretty voice or not, you figure.
it happens again — and then again. and eventually, rocket stops stopping. he sees you walk into the otherwise-empty common area while he’s clanging away on some new cannon, or you slide into the seat next to him while he’s piloting the bowie alone — and he tosses you a little smirk and keeps going, keeps humming those bars or rumbling those words up over his ribs and out the corners of his mouth.
you’re not the first person he’s sung to, of course.
there’s a reason groot loves music. when he was just a sprout, rocket would carefully place groot's small pot right next to where he lay his own head, and he’d croon a lullaby from star-lord’s library of songs. this was how the little flora colossus first learned to fall asleep — and how he woke up — every rotation for the first dozen cycles of his life. even when groot got a little bigger and could leave his pot and run around chasing orloni, he’d still drift off sprawled on rocket’s shoulder or across the top of his head: dozing to the sound of his father clinking away on aero-rigs while humming some melody or another.
even before that — i think rocket probably sung to groot the elder, too, at least once or twice. maybe the first time rocket had seen the big guy lose his limbs, before he'd learned that they would grow back. rocket had promised tibius lark that he’d look out for the flora colossus, and now here's groot — mutilated and in pain. rocket had tried to soothe the groaning, moaning groot to sleep, wracked by guilt before eventually realizing the big idiot was just a giant frickin’ crybaby with limbs that would essentially regenerate.
still, rocket hadn’t minded singing to his friend too much after that.
maybe even earlier, too. maybe there had been a time, after explaining music to his cagemates but before telling them about flying machines. maybe he’d hummed for batch 89 too.
they would’ve thought his childish voice was the most comforting, lovely thing they’d ever heard, i think. sometimes, as you might guess, the members of batch 89 would have nightmares or be in too much pain to close their eyes and rest, and when those nights happened, rocket would have hummed them back to sleep, all low and slow and sweet.
floor would have begged for songs every chance she got. teefs would have marveled at how beautiful rocket had sounded, and lylla — lylla would have told him, very solemnly, that he had a gift.
rocket doesn't think about that very often — tries not to think about those days at all, if he's being honest — but eventually, as you know, his past comes out. it's long after he’s gotten comfortable with you, of course — and raised his son, and saved half the universe, and purchased the skull of a god, and freed himself from the high evolutionary for the last time, and become a captain, but now—
now, he remembers lylla's words.
the star children descend from the arête and different households try to take them in, but it only takes one or two failed sleep-shifts across all of knowhere before it becomes apparent that none of the kids can rest. the children have nightmares — of course they do — and they’re used to sleeping shoulder-to-shoulder with each other in cages, on hard floors. they're used to whispering stories and comforts to each other, listening gratefully to the quiet words of their siblings, small hands gripping small hands in the darkness.
it takes a while to figure out, but eventually arrangements are made — at least until the kids can adjust. spaces are shifted so the children can nest together, and it helps — mostly. drax tries telling stories. cosmo recommends warm milk. howard suggests a quarter-shot of ginsky for each kid (you promptly put the kibosh on that one). nebula comes one night to tell the kids in great detail how she’ll destroy anyone who dares to harm them. you’re so happy mantis went on her journey to find herself but sometimes, when you see how exhausted and hollow-eyed the kids are in the morning, you just wish she were back so she could help them sleep.
and then suddenly it's a few cycles later, and you realize you haven’t heard any more concerns about the kids’ night terrors. you look around and realize they’re bright-eyed again, cheeks glowing, chattering at breakfast. curious as to what ended up working — if it was the indigarran lavender satchets sent by one of kraglin’s ex-wives or it it was the broker boring them with the droning details of the histories of various artifacts he’d once had in his shop on Xandar — you come visiting one night on tip-toe, just to check in.
rocket’s there — curled up on an old armchair someone had brought in for the neverending parade of storytellers and caregivers. his voice rolls over the sleepy children, and their eyelashes droop while he lingers on some notes and skips up and down others. the sound of it curls around them — and you. his voice nestles into the shadows, practically plucking up the edges of the blankets and tucking the kids in all on its own.
you watch as, handful after handful, they drift: eased deeply into dreaming by the power and protection of the captain’s voice, all on its own.
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oolongteaboba · 10 months
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# ◞ ˚ ─ PRETTY DOE EYES
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info. rocket raccoon/gn!reader. est. 740 words.
you give rocket head, and he finishes on your face. that's it. that's the plot.
a/n. this originally was supposed to be a ~200 word drabble, but it got wayy out of hand. also sorry for this being the second rocket fic that's kinda sappy (if you squint), but it's a bad habit, and i just like having some feelings sprinkled into my smut.
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“Fuck dollface, just like that,” Rocket grunts, his intonation barely even a murmur.  He roughly tugs on your hair in encouragement, Rocket’s fingers weaving through your hair as you attempt to take him on your knees.
Languidly, you lap your tongue around the pre-cum stained tip, teasing him with kitten licks.  Rocket emits a low and guttural grunt, his hands firmly gripping the armrest of his captain’s pilot seat.  Your lips are slick and wet, with the tiniest bit of drool dripping down your chin.  He’s incredibly hard and warm in your mouth; Rocket’s cock resembles a human man’s, although shorter in length, but enough to leave you feeling full and struggling to breathe.
You switch between circling and kissing the crown of his cock, still able to keep eye contact with Rocket, albeit he’s unable to do the same.  Rocket tenses from the unadulterated intimacy swimming in your eyes; they're wide and pretty, but most of all, it’s all for him.
The wet and graphic sounds of you sucking his cock reverberate through the ship’s halls; you’d moan if it weren’t for your lips parted around his length.  Absentmindedly, you move a hand to your crotch, eager for any stimulation to ease the rapidly building heat between your thighs.
“You’re that horny from sucking me off?”  Rocket brings you out of your sex-induced haze, his voice degrading and raspy.  You continue sucking, lapping your tongue from the base of his cock to his sensitive tip before shortly answering with a brief, almost silent yes and a nod.  As soon as you reply and your lips leave his girth, he bucks his hips in your mouth, entirely enveloping himself back inside and eliciting a whiny mewl from you.  The curve of his length is enough to hit and bruise the lower back of your throat.
Rocket proudly huffs, enjoying every inch of his cock wrapped around your warm mouth and soft lips.  “That’s a good fuckin’ whore for me.  Keep breathin’ through your nose, and use your hands next, alright, sweetheart?”  You give Rocket a look that reads yes; you press your thumb into the palm of your hand, trying to fight against your gag reflex.  With your dominant hand, you massage his balls, bobbing your head up and down on his cock, feeling the back of your eyes water from how deep he is.
With a suppressed moan, you squeeze and rub your thighs together to distract yourself from the pleasure you’re deprived of, wholly focusing on Rocket.  He brushes the stray strands of hair out of your face and behind your ear before mercilessly gripping the back of your head and fucking your mouth as if you’re his fleshlight for his personal use.  You tighten your already closed fist, ignoring how close you are from gagging on Rocket’s length.   Saliva pools in the corners of your lips, and you steadily breathe through your nose, just like Rocket told you.  His pace changes from desperate to erratic, chasing his pleasure; the taste of his pre-cum is salty, and you can taste him from the back of your throat.
“Shit, I’m so fuckin’ close-”  Rocket cuts himself off with a breathy grunt, and from feeling him writhe and twitch underneath you, he’s close.  His nails dig into his seat; his breathing labored from the pleasure-filled sensation.  Your ministrations don’t stop, and you keep fluttering and choking around his cock, almost begging him to cum.  Heat spreads all over his skin, his length throbbing for release.  “Fuck- you’re gonna take all of me, yeah, doll?”
You don’t take a second to reply, your inflection needy and begging for him.  “Yes, Rocket.”
“Open your mouth wider.”  You easily comply and stick your tongue out, aching to taste more of him, his cock wet and dripping with arousal.  “Swallow what’s in your mouth, but leave what’s on your face.”
He brings a hand to stroke his cock, completely soaked from your saliva and his pre-cum, right above your face.  Jerking himself in front of you, he pants and huffs while he chases his climax until his cum spills and drips all over your hot cheeks and swollen lips.  His right-hand caresses your cheek, resting right underneath your jawbone.  You swallow the cum in your mouth, savoring its bitter taste on your tongue, while you look at Rocket with that same damned look on your face.
Yeah, Rocket will never get used to how pretty your eyes are.
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mytheoristavenue · 7 months
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GOTG Rocket x Reader 🍋 - Heatwaves
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Summary: Long from home, the ship's air conditioner breaks, resulting in hallucination-inducing heat. Your obvious crush on Rocket doesn't make things any better.
Warnings: Inspired by a series of TMNT fics I did a while back, sexual innuendo, dirty talk, degradation, praise, illness from excessive heat, daydreaming/hallucinating, suggestive situations, sexual tension, judgment impaired by arousal, fem!reader, non specified species!reader, humanoid/anthro!reader, takes place between vol. 2 and infinity war
You were so dizzy, melting into the sofa, sprawled out with no regard for anyone else's comfort. Your head rested against Mantis's leg, while your legs invaded Drax's bubble, not that he minded. His people didn't really understand the concepts of personal space anyhow. You were all in this boat though, Gamora splayed out on the floor as it was the coolest surface in the ship. With this heat, all there was to do to bear it was strip down to the littlest clothing possible before becoming indecent and napping to make the time pass quicker.
"C'mon, you guys, cheer up," Peter forced a cheerful tone from the cockpit. "Rocket said he should be finished with the repairs on the AC tomorrow."
"Thank God," you groaned, pinching the fabric of your tanktop to unstick it from your chest. "I can't take this shit anymore."
"Yeah, I'm so sweaty, it feels like I showered in my clothes." Mantis agreed from above you, doing the same and wiggling all over to have her shirt sit right.
"But you didn't," Drax gave her a lead-poisoned stare. "I have been watching you for hours and you haven't moved, let alone gone to shower." The empath's head very slowly turned towards him, her glare and pursed lips screaming that she was done with his nonsense.
"Ya know," the captain called again. "If you're hot, just think how Rocket feels. It's probably way hotter down there in the boiler, plus he's covered in fur."
"I am Groot." The sapling said, raising his head off Gamora's chest as she nodded, agreeing with him.
"I don't care that fur is like insulation, if you're hot, he's hot. And I don't see any of you trying to help him, so stop whining." Peter's light reprimand, admittedly had pulled on your heartstrings a bit. It was awfully nice of Rocket to fix the AC all by himself, even if he was the only one with the know-how to do it.
"He's right," you sighed, begrudgingly tearing yourself off the sofa, your exposed skin having stuck to it. Finally separated from the mound of leather and flesh, you stumbled over to the kitchenette and threw open the fridge before grabbing a few bottles of water. "Rocket might need some help, I'll go check on him."
-----
You had never been in this part of the ship before, slinking through halls and around protruding pipes and fixtures. It was much hotter down here, closer to the water heating systems. You had to halt for a moment, pressing your hand to the wall for stability as you hunched a bit. If you were already feeling faint, you couldn't imagine how Rocket was feeling. For all you knew, he could have passed out and nobody would have known.
Suddenly you began to make out a distant, distorted racket that echoed and reverberated against every surface. It sounded almost...melodic? Following as it became louder, it led you to a warm light that streamed out from beyond a closed door. You halted for a moment, now being able to separate the noise, which you now recognized as a voice, singing lazily. Rocket never sang in front of people and you almost felt perverted as you listened to his rendition of Silver's 'Wham Bam Shang-A-Lang'. "Now that it's said and we both understand," he softly crooned, voice carrying to far reaches. "Let's say our goodbyes before it gets out of hand."
Inhaling sharply, you finally found it in you to grip the door handle and let yourself in. Orange light flooded out of the small room and the music became as clear as it was going to get, loud enough to conceal the sound of the door opening. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him.
Everyone had always been able to tell you were sweet on Rocket, and you'd never done much to hide the fact but seeing him now, bathed in marigold neon, laid flat on his back up underneath a large fixture...shirtless- it was too much for you. His fur was slicked against his chest from sweat and his jumpsuit was tied loosely on his hips, revealing much more of him than you ever could have been prepared to see. Adding to that his admittedly lovely, gruff singing voice, the scene was a recipe for an upset tummy.
Deciding you couldn't handle this, you silently tried to back out of the room, eyes trained on him like a deer in headlights. You may have gotten away with it, had one of the water bottles not fallen from the crook of your elbow, alerting him to your presence. Instantly, he rolled out from under the machine, set down his tools, and sat up, staring at you. "(Y/N), what are you doing down here?"
Now that you could see his face, you were in even worse shape. The white stripes on his cheeks were smeared with grease, whiskers crumpled, and fur unkempt. He looked incredibly rugged- more so than usual. "Hello? Knowwhere to (Y/N)?" he croaked again and waved a hand in front of him, voice hoarse from unrestricted use. "You okay?"
At last, you shook out of your trance, flustered to hell and back, and eagerly swooped down to grab the bottle. "Y-Yeah, I'm great! You're just really hot!" Rocket stared at you for a second, waiting for you to correct yourself before owning the compliment and mocking you for it. Obviously, you didn't take the hint, so that was his cue.
"Well thanks, dollface," he smirked, standing up and sauntering over to the doorway, taking the dropped bottle from you before popping off the cap and chugging it. About halfway through, he stopped with a deep, relieved sigh. "I always thought I was pretty hot but it's still nice to hear it from someone else." That's when your stomach dropped, realizing what you'd said. Time to backtrack.
"Oh my God, no!" you gasped, once again dropping what you were holding to slap your hands to your face. "I don't think you're hot!" Rocket looked at you quizzically, hand on hip. "I-I mean I do think you're attractive, b-but not in a weird way! More like a friend way!"
"Uh-huh," he teased, crossing his arms and leaning on the doorframe. "Friend attraction's the best kind, ya know? And don't sweat it, Quill says I'm hot all the time."
"Rocket, please..." you finally gave in, physically crumbling. "I meant like- you're probably getting hot down here and I wanted to bring you something to drink."
"I know, dollface, I'm just yankin' your chain." he laughed, pushing off the wall and walking back farther into the room to sit on a bucket. "I needed a break anyway, thanks princess."
"Princess...?"
"What?"
"N-Nothing!" You finally let out a sigh of relief, following a bit closer and sitting on the floor. "So how's it coming?" you asked, uncapping your own bottle after passing him the last one.
"Well, I've identified the problem, but I don't got the right parts to fix it. Good news is, I think I was able to work up a temporary replacement that should at least get us back to Knowwhere. I know if we can just get home, I can get a brand new part for cheap-" You weren't sure when, but at some point, you'd stopped listening, mind and eyes wandering.
" Ah, fuck, (Y/N), easy! Yeah, j-just like that, keep movin' just like that for me princess..."
"Are you even listening?" Rocket's annoyed tone brought you out of your daydream. You must have zoned out without realizing it, how embarrassing. "Jeez, you're hopeless, ya know that?" He chided, standing up and grabbing a rag to wipe his hands on.
"Sorry..." you slumped shamefully before trailing him as he got back into position. "H-Hey, is there anything I can do to help you out?"
"Hmm," he paused, laying back down on the creeper, ready to roll back under the unit. "I guess you can keep me company, hand me tools," he proposed, disappearing under the machine. Suddenly his voice dropped an octave, words echoed against metallic surfaces that made you freeze. "I know my girl is very good with my tools."
You squeaked at his sudden turn in demeanor, falling on your behind and scrambling away from him. "W-What?!"
Rocket rolled back out, propping up on an elbow, eyeing you with concern. "What, what'd I say?" he asked frantically. "What's up with you?"
"Y-You said-" you stammered, not even comfortable with repeating what you heard. "Y-You said...I'm g-good with your tools!"
He looked at you like you were the biggest moron he'd ever met. "Well, yeah?" he chastised. "You help me in my shop all the time, so I know you know which ones are which. You're good at knowing which ones to hand me." Your chest heaved as he once again returned to his position, reaching his hand out. His small fingers curled, a sign for you to hand something over. "Gimme that ratchet." Quickly, you placed it in his hand, before clicking open the socket set.
"What size socket?"
"Twelve millimeter." He answered, settling the tool on his stomach to use both hands for whatever he was doing. Scanning the set, you plucked out the shallow twelve millimeter piece and set it on his chest, waiting for him to grab it. He did and growled in dismay, giving it back.
"No, princess," he corrected, gasping through clenched teeth. "Need it deep."
"You...w-what?" you carefully asked, feeling incredibly dizzy and unable to discern truth from hallucination.
"I need the deep twelve millimeter, not the shallow one." Rocket scolded, giving a frustrated sigh as he listened to you scramble for the correct piece, profusely apologizing all the while. Finally, you found the right one, presenting it to him just in time for him to roll out from under the fixture again. "Okay, dollface," he titled his head, worried. "What's your deal?"
"Deal? There's no deal!" you played dumb, laughing nervously, hoping he'd just drop it. "I'm fine, really!"
You went rigid, watching him silently creep closer to you, unsure if this was real or not. Finally, he placed a paw against your cheek and whispered in close: "You're burnin' up, baby."
"Rocket, I don't feel good." you stated abruptly. "I-I think something's wrong with me."
"I'll say," he cooed, dragging his knuckles down the side of your face. "How about you let me change that, hmm?" The world around you began to blur, and all you could make out were his words. You understood that his hands were on you, but you couldn't say where; you couldn't feel it, you couldn't even see clearly. "Yeah, baby just lay down, lemme do all the work." He soothed seductively. "Let daddy take care of you, 'kay, (Y/N)?"
That last word, it was your name, right? He kept repeating it, like a broken record, and suddenly all the gruffness left his voice. You listened as intently as you could, hearing it morph from lustful to monotone, and then increasingly more worried- desperate even. "(Y/N)!" There it was again.
Slowly, as his voice became more clear, the cloudiness in your vision dissipated and your senses began to return. Your cheek burned against hot metal, and you could feel patting on your face. A figure hovered over you, close enough to breathe on you. "Goddamnit, (Y/N), wake up!"
"R-Rocket...?" you stuttered, recognizing the figure. "What's going on...?"
"Nevermind that," he hushed. "Lay back down," Suddenly, he turned away from you, yelling out the door, presumably to the oncoming footsteps stampeding down the hall. "In here!" Your eyelids began to get heavy as the world began to fall away again. The last thing you remember was being lifted into the air by a second, hulking figure, then nothing.
-----
You awoke in your bunk, arctic air breezing by your face. What had happened, how did you get here? Where was Rocket? Your fingers twitched, sore from lack of use and the tips of them caught the sensation of something foreign. Multiple fibers connected to one source, soft in mass but wirey when you singled one out. Letting your hand travel up the organism, you froze, realizing you'd answered one of your questions. Glancing down, you found Rocket, curled in a ball at your side. That was odd, you did share a room, but Rocket never slept in your bunk.
Your movements must have roused him as he stirred under your touch, slowly unfurling himself and stretching out. "You're up," he noted, smiling a bit. "You'll be happy to know the AC is fixed."
Now that you took notice of it, the room was cooler, cold even. "Wow," you yawned, smiling back sleepily. "How long was I out for?"
"About eight hours," he copied, yawning as a reaction to seeing you do the same. You halted a moment, confused.
"Wait, I thought you said it'd take you another day to fix it?" you rubbed sleep from your eye waiting for his explaination.
"Nothin' an all nighter couldn't fix." He laughed exhaustedly, curling back up into your side. You'd usually question his sudden cuddliness, but it made your bed that much cozier. "Honestly, your little heatstroke..." his voice softened a bit. "It scared me a little. I was worried about ya."
"Heatstroke..." you repeated. "That makes so much sense," At least now you had an explanation for all those hallucinations from earlier. Though you were glad to be well again, Rocket's attention was nice, even if it was all in your head. "That explains me hearing and seeing things that weren't there down in the boiler. Sorry for acting so weird.." you confessed sheepishly.
"Don't be sorry," he chuckled cockily, eyes peacefully resting. "We'll definitely be having a lengthy, private conversation about all that after I catch up on some sleep." Your stomach dropped at that, imagining all the terrible outcomes that could result from said conversation. "And for the record, dollface, I do think you're very good at handling my tools, ya know," he smirked, nuzzling your ear. "When you follow directions."
Your stomach did flips as your head began to feel heavy again. "I-I must still be hallucinating...I swear I just heard you say-"
"Did I fuckin' stutter?"
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am-i-interrupting · 11 months
Note
Can you do some Rocket cuddling headcanons?
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He will pretend that he doesn’t like cuddling.
He loves cuddling.
Absolutely, 100% leans into your touch when your alone.
He isn’t the biggest fan of PDA but will hold your hand in public if either one of you is feeling nervous and in need of comfort.
He will hug and hold you if you start to seem in need of it whether people are there or not.
He’s not shy to giving affection in public but receiving it is not his strongest suit.
When you’re alone, however, he will (after a certain amount of time in your relationship with one another) pull you into hugs.
He does bury his face in your shoulder.
He feels safe there.
He is big on both being held and holding.
He often times spends late nights triple checking that the ship is running and making sure everyone else is okay in his own dickish way so it’s not uncommon for him to join you hours after you’ve already fallen asleep.
Some nights he’ll move your arms and curl into you and just settled there so he can feel your heartbeat and know you’re there.
Other nights he curls around you and holds you impossibly close.
If he really, truly cannot sleep he’ll start picking through your hair for anything that shouldn’t be there.
He’ll either not mention it in the morning or tease you kindly over “how gross” your hair is.
You know he doesn’t really mind because if he did he wouldn’t do it.
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rocket-our-baby · 8 months
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Masterlist
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banner edited by me✫彡
You can find out more about me & my disclaimers can be read here.
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I only write/ draw for Rocket x (terran!)reader on this blog. Readers are either gn or f (she/her) in my works.
Readers are also Homo sapiens and earthlings and very human cuz falling in love with an imaginary sentient mechanic gunsmith cgi raccoon is only so remotely imaginable not to mention imagining your very own self as another forms of life ; basically cuz they won’t be you yourself and I want readers to have the best reading experience possible and just be you the entire time. You’re enough to be loved by your favourite fictional bounty hunter turned space pilot/ captain of the guardians of the galaxy who also just so happens to be an anthropomorphic raccoon.
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I write both romantic and platonic relationships between the two. Or sometimes, the dynamics can be interpreted either way, whichever you prefer.
My strong suits are angstyfluff and general domestic fluff/+smut. (I absolutely love reading angst but I couldn’t help but give them a quiet happy ending, but I crave for angsty elements therein.)
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𝐍𝐨 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐫
[newly posted - ¹⁸/⁸ ¹²:⁰⁵]
info: rocket/f!reader, 3.1k words, fluff, sfw, oneshot
summary: You’re sick, and Rocket is worried. He tries not to show it by acting rationally but it’s very obvious.
note: is possibly one of the chapters in the domestic fluff slice of life series between rocket, the best pilot in the galaxy and the best captain any Terran girl can ask for in space; and the reader, a Terran from Terra living her not-so-normal life in space, with a talking raccoon.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬 (𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞)
[To be posted - sooner or later]
info: rocket/f!reader, ~2k words, angstyfulff but minimal angst, comfort, sfw, oneshot
summary: You’re sad and as per usual, isolated yourself from everyone and everything. and Rocket tries his best to, albeit reluctantly, help.
note: just a hug from the raccoon that everybody here needs and deserves. Prior to any established relationship between the two.
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Upcoming…
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Upcoming…
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