#gotg rocket x reader

[mytheoristavenue]

GOTG Rocket x Reader 🍋 - Heatwaves

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?"

#rocket raccoon smut #rocket smut #rocket raccoon x reader #gotg rocket #gotg x reader #gotg rocket x reader #rocket raccoon lemons #rocket raccoon x reader smut #rocket raccoon x you #rocket raccoon x y/n #marvel #marvel x reader

[raccoonfallsharder]

rocket raccoon prompt week ✷ day six bite ✷.⁺⋆˚₊

low-grade spice & fluff | no use of yn | gn reader | minific | word count: 2,266.

“That’s — a big frickin’ scar you got there.”

Your eyes flare wide and you twist in your seat so fast you nearly spin off it, staring at the stranger who has just hoisted himself onto the barstool next to you. Not because you recognize the voice — you don’t yet, though you will — but just because it’s such a personal remark.

And you’re a little bit sensitive about the scar, if you’re being honest. It’s something of a souvenir.

Then recognition clicks in. Because there he is: short. Covered in fur. Velveteen ears and a dark mask, and a plush ringtail that sweeps behind him. Eyes like red stars.

Cutie.

You stare at him, breath sucked right out of your lungs. He’s got hesitation scrawled and sprawled all over his face: ears flicking down and tail lashing once, nervously. His claws clink against his massive, nearly-empty stein of Xitarish whiskey. 

You tear your eyes away and stare down at the ring of pearly ridges stitched into your arm — like maybe there were answers carved into your flesh there all along, and you’d just never noticed. Or like each toothmark is a lodestar, and together the circle of them can help get you home. 

“Isn’t it rude? To comment on a stranger’s scars?” you breathe out, trying to buy yourself time as all the pieces begin falling together. 

He blinks at you, and shifts uncomfortably. “Uh, Jemiah.” He gestures at the owner of The Boot, who just so happens to be your boss. “Next drink’s on me.”

“Sure thing, Rocket,” Jemiah says warmly — far more warmly than you’ve ever heard from him before. 

You feel your eyes flare wide. “You’re Rocket?” you manage to utter, eyes scrolling up and down him again. “One of the people who bought this damn skull? The pilot — the Guardian of the Galaxy or whatever?”

Somehow he looks even more uncomfortable. “Guardians of the Galaxy. Plural. We’re — a team.”

You exhale slowly — measuredly — and try to loosen all the small feathers of confusion crowding up your head, downy-soft. And as you let go of all those wisps, adrenaline rushes in to take their place: the intoxication of suddenly seeing him. Meeting him — for real this time. Having a name to put with the memory. 

Your smile blows wide. You can’t help yourself. 

“The cutie has a team,” you murmur under your breath, and you feel the blood rush to your cheeks when his eyes sharpen on you. He shifts on his stool, but his shoulders relax a little, and the corner of his mouth twitches. 

“Don’t listen to him, Jemiah,” you call out. “His drink’s on me.”

Your boss ducks to hide his grin even as the cutie in question — Rocket, you think, with a pleased little grin — grimaces. “Wait—“ he starts.

You click your tongue and shake your head, cutting him off and grinning. “Not a chance. You bought this stupid skull out from under the Collector and made it a tolerable place to live? There’s no way you’re buying the drinks. I have to show my gratitude somehow.”

You drop your lids to half-mast and raise a brow, hoping he knows that you’re happy to show your gratitude in a few other ways as well. The risk of offering brings a nervous little buzz to your belly. 

As for him — well, you get the sense that he’s a guy who doesn’t let himself flounder very often, but right now his face is flickering between so many emotions that you can’t possibly catch them all. Shock, and then a brief flash of something like smugness, followed immediately by a flash of narrow-eyed skepticism — then a sort of uncertain hesitance, a brief twinge of humor, and finally, a cynical half-sneer. Then he starts right back at the beginning and does it all over again.

It’s fascinating.  

“Did you know,” you say slowly when Jemiah sets down the fresh drinks, “that I work here at The Boot?”

The stranger — no longer a stranger, you suppose; no longer just the cutie — no, Rocket pauses in his cycle of expressions, takes a slug of his new stein of whiskey, and shakes himself out. 

Where the hell does he put it? you wonder. The stein is as big as his whole torso, you think.

But he doesn’t seem buzzed at all. Instead, he casts you a measuring, sideways glance, entirely too alert for your tastes. 

“You don’t say,” he drawls at last, one brow raised as his spine eases a little more.

“Mmhmm,” you say mildly. “It’s my day off.” You pause meaningfully and take another sip of your own drink. “Didn’t used to get days off in Exitar. Or anywhere else on Knowhere, as a matter of fact.”

His eyes track your hands, and flick to your face. 

“Guess the difference is all thanks to you,” you tell him lightly, and tilt your glass toward him. “Here’s to the happy change in leadership.”

He studies you, and waits till you set your drink down again. 

“So. Uh. How long you worked here?” he asks — as if he didn’t already have at least some idea.

You grin into your glass. “Long enough to have developed a very strict set of rules for my survival.”

His ears flick. You’re glad he’s indulging you — playing along for now. “What’re the rules?”

You lean back. “I’m glad you asked,” you tease, and splay out one hand so you can count them on your fingers. “Number one. Avoid the Collector at all costs.”

He snorts. “Well, guess you’re not a complete idiot,” he mutters, and then slashes his red-amber eyes at you and flinches, like he thinks maybe you’re going to be offended. 

But you only wink at him. Not a chance, cutie.  “Number two. Never hide all your units in one place — or on one datacard.”

A smirk curls the corner of his mouth and his nose twitches.

“Three. Always lock your doors behind you. And four, Don’t walk home alone from the Boot.” The smirk slides off his face at that and his eyes flash, so you rush along to the next rule, hoping to lighten the mood again. “Five. Always get customers’ money before you hand them their booze.”

There you go. The little curve is back at the corner of his mouth, even if his brow is still furrowed — almost like he’s distressed. 

You lean sideways and nudge him with your elbow. “And finally, number six.” He looks up at you and his ears tilt, eyes locked on yours like glimmering red stones. You lean so close you know your breath will flutter in the curve of his ear, and you drop your voice to a whisper. “Don’t try to break up fights.”

The pilot rears back, nearly tumbling backward off his stool, and you reach for him before you both catch yourselves. Reeling your outstretched hand back into yourself, you instead gift him a reckless grin and turn to your drink once more.

“It’s not a comprehensive list,” you tell him pragmatically, “and it isn’t in any particular order, but it’s kept me alive this long.” 

“Oh, yeah?” Rocket says, and his voice is suddenly raspy and low. “Even that last one?”

The laughter surprises you, fluttering up behind your ribs and escaping between your lips, soft  and velvety and hushed. 

“I only broke that one once,” you tell him, lifting your glass to your mouth and half-hiding your grin behind it. You can tell your eyes are sparkling, though. “And it’s not like I ever regretted it.”

He makes a sound in the back of his throat. “Sounds like you got a story.”

“Mmm,” you acknowledge, and you keep your voice playful. “It was years ago, now. I knew all the regulars back then — well, I still do, but more of them were jackasses back in the day. And this guy comes in — someone I’d never seen before. Swaggering, carrying a cannon twice as big as himself. Maybe — three feet tall? A true Short King.”

He’s got his stein to his lips and he chokes on a mouthful of whiskey, sputtering. “A what?”

You ignore him, still casting him that teasing half-smile and raising an eyebrow. “He had pretty eyes, and I remember him being more foulmouthed than a landlocked Ravager.”

“Pretty — what?” 

“Keep up, Rocket,” you taunt lightly, tapping a finger to the air just an inch away from the top of his nose, and his eyes go narrow. Everything on his face is suddenly promising retribution, but you’re reckless with glee now.

And you’ll be happy to pay up if he actually comes to collect. 

“I told him that I needed payment up front when he ordered—“

“Get the money before you hand them their booze,” he echoes Rule Five, eyes still hunting you, and you nod with mock-approval. 

“You get it,” you say with a chuckle. “Anyway, his response was just to swipe another patron’s datacard right in front of me and hand it over.” You can still fucking see it: his challenging half-grin, one brow raised.  “I think I stared at him for a full thirty seconds, but this cutie just smirked up at me. Brazen as fuck.”

You laugh softly at the memory, and Rocket — who might as well be your new landlord, you’ve realized — grumbles something under his breath. 

“Anyway, I was kinda smitten,” you admit with a little curve in your mouth, still buzzing the inside of your belly. 

It’s the truth, too.  You’d never thought that raccoon can get it before, but there you were. 

And here you are. 

To your surprise, Rocket goes quiet at that. The pilot of the famous — or infamous — Guardians of the Galaxy, and one of the new owners of Knowhere: still and silent for a long moment. 

Maybe he’ll slip out of his chair and leave, you think, and the flutters in your belly twist in sudden regret. Maybe you’ve scared him off. 

But when he speaks, his voice is like crystallized maple syrup: rich and gritty, waiting to crumble and melt and scrub against your skin.

“He’s why you got into a fight?”

You weigh out your options here. What to say? You’d lost sight of the cutie thanks to his height and the constant surge of new customers, and you’d sort of forgotten about him in the moment, to be honest — though you’re sure you’d have remembered later, alone in your shitty little room — but then you’d heard the sudden cacophonous boom of his enormous augmented cannon. There’d been screaming and crashing, and you’d woven yourself  between the bodies toward the sound. Just to assess, just to figure out what kind of danger you’d been in—

Fucking B’darl — the worst of your regular patrons — had entered into view and suddenly hoisted the cutie right up into the air before slamming him down into the orloni fighting ring. 

You hadn’t thought about it — about anything, really — just thrown yourself through the crowd, toward the fighting ring. By the time you’d gotten there, B’darl had the cutie pinned to the miniature arena’s floor by the throat.  Both the orloni and the f’saki had cowered back, blood-soaked and wounded, from the sudden interference in their battle-to-the-death. 

Looks like you wandered outta the ring, the fucking brute had sneered.Time to go back to brawling with the other vermin, you little monster. 

B’darl had lifted his other fist, easily the size of your entire head.

My money’s on the f’saki, though. 

You’d surged between them without thinking, latching onto B’darl’s massive forearm, knocking his fist to one side.

You shrug. “It was worth it,” you tell Rocket mildly, and take another sip of your drink.

His eyes drop to the ring of teethmarks in your arm again. He opens his mouth to speak, and you cut in.

“My own fault,” you tell him. “I should’ve known the cutie could handle himself. I got in the way.”

You can still remember how his firelight-eyes had stared up at you from behind a mouthful of flesh and blood, stunned and maybe horrified, teeth sunk almost to the bone.  In a worse timeline, maybe you’d have tried to rip your arm away. But here, in this one, you’d curled around him instinctively. Protectively. 

And then he’d reached around you smoothly and snagged B’darl’s ion pistol, and you’d heard the gun go off as he’d squeezed the trigger, blind.

“My only regret is that I lost sight of him in the aftermath,” you tell him with a shrug. You try for a teasing smile but it suddenly feels strained, tense on your mouth. You’d been too flushed with adrenaline when you’d first started this conversation. Now, suddenly, the nerves are present: rattling and twitching behind your sternum. Your fingers shake a little and you clamp them onto your glass. “Didn’t even catch his name.” 

He doesn’t say anything, and you squeeze your eyes shut. When you finally get the fluttering in your vagus nerve under control, you hazard a look up at him. 

His eyes are on your forearm though: the circle of silken raised marks, just three shades lighter than the rest of your skin, and strangely — almost prettily — translucent. His finger reaches out: dark and clawed, his touch like warm leather. You go so still that you can’t blink, can’t even breathe as he paints a ring of warmth on your skin, looping the circlet of scars onto his fingertip like pearls threaded on a string.

The flutters are back, full-force. 

Slowly, Rocket drags his gaze up to yours, sunset-eyes glowing.  “Cutie works.”

@hibatasblog deserves so much more & better than this little ficlet but i am dedicating it to them anyway because they regularly call rocket "short king" and i cannot get it out of my head. deepest love to them & all their writing (please do yourselves a favor and check out their ao3 fics if you have not already)

look i just feel like (1) rocket is a cutie and if you say it in the right tone, he'll be flattered enough to not kill you and (2) there's no way he'd ever forget the stranger who jumped into a fight on his behalf — and probably got scarred for it — back before he met the guardians. which is when the og encounter takes place fyi. forget about the fact that i don't think we know if he had ever been there before gamora brought them along — i headcanon that where two or more lowlifes gather, so too there is rocket.

sidenote oh my god i literally cannot stop with the increasing wordcount. day seven (when i eventually get around to it) is gonna be SHORT. it's a promise/challenge to myself. anyway i think my writing quality peaked with machinery and i'm sorry this is so late

day five. machinery. ✷ day seven. home. rocket prompt week masterlist ✷ main masterlist rocket raccoon prompt week list

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

#rocketraccoonpromptweek #rfh fluff #rocket raccoon #guardians of the galaxy #rocket raccoon fanfiction #gotg fanfiction #rfh fanfic #gotg rocket #rocketraccoon #rocket gotg #drabbles #rocket raccoon x you #rocket x you #x reader #reader insert #gn reader #rocket racoon x reader #rocket x reader #gotg rocket x reader #gotg x reader #guardians of the galaxy fanfiction

[book-place-incorrect-quotes]

Y/N: *walking into the room while yawning and stretching* Hey, guys. How’s it going?

Rocket: Where the hell have you been?

Y/N: Sleeping… why?

Gamora: Well, you’ve been sleeping these past two days straight, then

Y/N: Wow… I’m going back to sleep

Peter: *walking in and slamming the door* YOU’VE BEEN ASLEEP?!?! FOR THE PAST TWO DAYS?!?!

Peter: *angrily charging at Y/N* I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD

Y/N: OH SHIT-

#gotg #gotg incorrect quotes #guardians of the galaxy #guardians of the galaxy incorrect quotes #gotg x reader #guardians of the galaxy x reader #mcu #mcu incorrect quotes #mcu x reader #peter quill #peter quill x reader #peter quill x reader platonic #rocket x reader #rocket x reader platonic #rocket #rocket racoon x reader #rocket raccoon x reader platonic #rocket raccoon #gamora #gamora x reader #gamora x reader platonic

[countlessimagines]

New Guy Around [ Adam Warlock x Reader ]

!!!!!! GOTG VOLUME 3 SPOILERS!!!!!

-

Summary: While helping rebuild Nowhere, you get to know the man who tried to kill your friends.

A/N: I’ve loved Will Poulter since I was 13 so of course I would fall in love with Adam Warlock <3 also my apologies for this kind of being small, my future imagines of him will definitely be longer! Enjoy for now though loves!!

MASTERLIST LINK

-

It was a normal day for you when you began to talk to Adam; wake up to little raccoons climbing all over you, eating breakfast with Rocket and Groot, and helping Drax with the kids.

It usually consisted of Drax translating what they’re saying while you tried to get them settled into new homes with people willing to take them in.

And as usual, Adam would stroll around like a lost puppy trying to figure out what to do for the day. While he made himself useful by going person to person, today he looked more confused than ever.

You still weren’t on the best terms with him, despite the rest of the guardians giving him a second chance. It didn’t help that they told you what he was trying to do before they rescued him.

With a deep sigh, you let Drax deal with the children for the day and walked over to Adam.

“Do you need something to do?” You asked him and he seemed a bit startled that you were actually talking to him.

“Uh, yes?” Adam said and immediately began to follow behind you as you made your way to your small apartment. It had been destroyed pretty badly in the fight, and you could use all the help you could get into repairing it back to normal.

While your place was livable, it still needed something to make it more of a home.

You let Adam in and instructed him on fixing one of the walls with many holes in it. He got right to work and was pretty silent the whole time. Meanwhile, you straightened up your work desk littered with plants, pots, soil, and little figurines you built for the children.

“Can I ask you a question?” Adam said, taking you out from your little flow of organizing.

You hummed a yes and waited for whatever question he was going to say. You honestly weren’t in the mood for a conversation, though.

“For all those plants on your desk, you sure don’t decorate this place enough.”

You turned sharply to him, wondering why it was relevant to ask such a thing. “Maybe if the people you had been working for hadn’t ruined my place, I would be able to put things up by now. But no, I have to fix it first.”

“All I’m saying is a flower on your table would suffice.” Adam shrugged and began to work again.

You rolled your eyes and continued to replant some of the white flowers you knew Groot loved. “If you must know I gift these flowers to people I care about.”

Adam stood up from the ground and walked over to your desk. “Will I get one of them?” He was teasing you with a smile and a question you knew was a joke.

“Maybe one day if you don’t mess it up for yourself,” you said and glanced up at him. He was significantly taller than you, and it wasn’t until now that you noticed how close he was. “And maybe, just maybe if I forgive you for trying to kill my friends.”

Adam nodded and promptly began to work again. “I will win you over.”

-

Then it became normal for Adam to arrive every morning at your door to help repair the rest of your apartment.

While he worked, you would either tend to your plants or build figurines for the children. It kept both of you busy and eventually a comfortable silence would fall between the two of you. Well, besides Rocket blasting music over the speakers.

Adam would often go to your desk, do a little nod of approval at what you were creating, then go back to working. You would tend to sneak looks at him, thinking he didn’t notice but he always did.

You hated to admit that you found the golden man attractive, and fought against the thoughts that plagued your mind about him. You didn’t want to get close to him… yet.

Adam was very helpful and extremely nice to you, and you could tell he was trying to make up for his past transgressions. You felt bad for being an ass to him, and one day you tried to make up for it. You made him a figurine of his pet that always seemed to find its way to him.

You had left it at his apartment one night and thought nothing of it, expecting nothing in return.

It was the weekend now, and Adam tended to only help on weekdays, so you didn’t expect to wake up to him at your door. He was holding something behind his back, but you didn’t ask any questions.

“Oh, um, good morning?” You said sleepily, still in pajamas.

“I wanted to stop by to say thank you for my gift.” Adam smiled and you noticed he had placed it in the pocket of his shirt.

“Of course, it was my way of saying thank you for all the help.” You did a small smile in return.

Adam shifted on his feet and pulled out a small daisy from behind his back. “I, uh, picked this for you. I know it’s not much but you always gift flowers to people so I thought you deserved one yourself.”

You grinned happily and accepted the flower with a thank you. The tiny flower meant the world to you and Adam seemed ecstatic to give it to you.

“That’s the first ever gift I’ve given someone.” Adam looked so innocent and sad when he said that, almost as if his history did haunt him.

“It’s lovely.” You gave him a hug which took him by surprise but he gladly wrapped his arms around you.

“I was wondering if you’d like to…” Adam’s words trailed off in confusion, not finding the word he needed.

“Go on a date?” You helped him out, knowing exactly what he meant.

“Yes, that,” he said with his dorky smile and awaited your answer.

“I would love that.” You smiled brightly at him, delighted that Adam ended up being a sweet person beneath all the gold.

#Adam warlock #guardians of the galaxy #gotg #gotg vol 3 #gotg fanfiction #rocket gotg #rocket raccoon #Adam warlock x reader #Adam warlock imagine #will poulter x reader #will poulter #will poulter imagine #starlord #Peter quill #mantis #drax the destroyer #groot

[redvelvetpanpan]

Imma just sit here waiting patiently (read: frothing at the mouth) for the Adam Warlock fics to come flooding in.

#adam warlock #guardians of the galaxy spoilers #guardians of the galaxy #rocket #rocket racoon and groot #groot #drax the destroyer #drax #nebula #mantis #star lord #peter quill #guardians of the galaxy 3 #gamora #gotg vol 3 #marvel #adam warlock x reader #adam warlock x you

[fandomnerd9602]

Rocket: could that douche actually create a perfect society?

Y/N: nah. An imperfect being can’t create perfection. It’s unobtainable

Adam: so a perfect being, like me, could?

Y/N: sorry Warlock. You’re a perfect specimen. There’s a difference.

Cosmo: did you just compliment and insult someone at the same time?

Rocket: that’s an art form im dying to learn! (Laughs)

#marvel #marvel imagine #marvel fluff #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fandom #marvel incorrect quotes #incorrect marvel quotes #rocket and groot #rocket raccoon imagine #rocket racoon x reader #adam warlock #will poulter #guardians of the galaxy #guardians of the galaxy volume 3 #gotg imagine #gotg vol 3 #gotg #rocket gotg

[romanoffshouse]

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.

#source: knocked up #incorrect marvel quotes #marvel incorrect quotes #thor #thor x reader #thor x you #thor odinson #thor odinson x reader #thor odinson x you #rocket raccoon #rocket #rocket racoon x reader #guardians of the galaxy #gotg #guardians #marvel #marvel x reader #the avengers #avengers x reader #mcu

[marvelflame2010]

Rocket lecturing Y/n after she did something stupid: Kid, can you just get on my level here for a minute?

Y/n: *sits criss-cross applesauce on the floor*

Rocket: ...

Y/n: 😊

Rocket grabbing Y/n's nose and twisting it: Listen here you little shit

BONUS:

Peter: Y/n, why is your nose all red

Y/n: I regret nothing

#incorrect marvel quotes #incorrect avengers #avengers incorrect quotes #incorrect avengers quotes #marvel incorrect quotes #marvel incorrect #rocket raccoon #guardians of the galaxy 3 #guardians of the galaxy incorrect quotes #rocket raccoon incorrect quotes #star lord #peter quill #rocket raccoon x platonic reader #am i the only one who says criss cross applesauce? #incorrect quotes #incorrect guardians of the galaxy #rocket gotg #gotg 3 #y/n you little shit

[scholastic-dragon]

You know that fic where Rocket only let's y/n pet him? I NEED MORE ITS SO CUTE. Can you do them cuddling in he living room or common room amd falling asleep then the other guardians walk in and catch them?

I'm on a roll today

"its not a regular thing," Rocket whispers.

You scoff, peering down at the raccoon leaning against your chest, your hand playing with his.

"Of course," You press a kiss to the spot behind his ear. His claws gently scratching against your palm and fingers.

You're reclined in the deep living room sofa, one leg propped up on the coffee table and the other hanging off the couch. Rocket found you on his way to bed, and curled up in your lap. You pulled a thin blanket over the two of you, snuggling him close.

Slowly drifting through space, wrapped up, warm and snugly, with each other, you both fall asleep.

You both miss the sweet smile from Gamora and Mantis, the chuckle from Drax and the scoff from Quill.

But not to worry, Nebula took a lot of photos.

#rockey snuggles <3 #guardians of the galaxy #guardians of the galaxy headcannons #guardians of the galaxy imagine #gotg #gotg headcannons #gotg imagines #guardians of the galaxy vol 2 #guardians of the galaxy vol 2 headcannons #guardians of the galaxy vol 2 imagine #gotg2 #gotg2 imagine #gotg2 imagines #gotg2 headcannons #rocket #rocket raccoon #rocket raccoon imagines #rocket racoon headcannons #rocket racoon x reader #it is my works #thanks for the ask!

[angelofthenight]

*Adam walks into a room*

Rocket: Now there’s a phenomenon. (y/n)’s shadow has arrived before (y/n)

#source: anna karenina #adam warlock x reader #adam warlock #gotg x reader #gotg incorrect quotes #incorrect gotg quotes #gotg3 #guardians of the galaxy volume 3 #guardians of the galaxy #rocket raccoon #marvel incorrect quotes #mcu #mcu incorrect quotes #incorrect mcu quotes #incorrect marvel quotes #marvel #incorrect quotes #reader insert

[demigoddessqueens]

I saw Guardians this weekend, and omg 😭💔❤️‍🩹💞 I just want the fluffiest and only the best for Peter, Rocket, Nebula and Adam

#marvel #mcu #marvel x reader #gotg x reader #gotg vol 3 #gotg spoilers #guardians of the galaxy #guardians of the galaxy vol 3 #peter quill #star lord #peter quill x reader #rocket raccoon #nebula #nebula x reader #adam warlock #adam warlock x reader #lylla otter

[mytheoristavenue]

GOTG Rocket x Reader - The Ache

Summary: You and Rocket have never gotten along, but your mutual hate will never stop the ache in your bellies.

Warnings: unrealized love, angst, romanticization of toxic dynamics, romantic/sexual feelings without action, longing, double-sided, takes place between vol. 2 and infinity war, reptilian!alien!reader

Escalation. Everything had to escalate, every tiny disagreement. But that's to be expected when your family consists of a lizard, a bug, a sapling, a rodent, three assassins, and a celestial demi-god. Gamora had called it growing pains, but at this point, you weren't sure anymore. Quill had suggested that everyone was just cramped in the ship and grumpy because of it, but maybe he just wasn't ready to accept the fact none of you actually liked eachother.

Actually, that wasn't necessarily true. You liked some of your teammates, Mantis and Groot, for example. Drax and Gamora were also good company, and Quill introduced you to many of your favorite songs. Occasionally, you could even squeeze engaging conversations out of Nebula. That only left...Rocket.

-----

"Get outta here," he grumbled, dropping spare parts at his feet and disregarding you immediately upon entering your shared living space. You afforded him a sideways glare and scoffed, not bothering to look up from the sappy romance novel you were taking in.

"You can't just kick me out, Rocket, this is my room too." You chided from your bottom bunk, inches from his back. If you were willing to pay him any mind, you would've seen his fur stand up on end at your response.

"Yeah well, it was my room first and I need space to work. You can read that stupid chicklit anywhere ya want, but unless you wanna go into the next mission with a busted blaster, you better get." He barked, hunching over on the floor, going to work.

"I told you I don't need your help fixing it. I'm taking it to a professional when we land, asshole. Now give it back." You growled, sitting up and slamming the paperback down on the bed.

"No," he said frankly. "It's my job to fix shit when it breaks, so I'm fixing it. And for your information, I am a professional. Now get lost."

"Rocket, give me back my blaster, I don't want you working on it!" you protested, sharply standing up and narrowly missing his bunk with your head. "If you don't give it back, I'm telling Quill that you've been going through my stuff again!" It wouldn't have been a lie, either. You knew full and well that that gun was in your personal trunk earlier in the day. There was no way he'd 'just found it'.

Rocket went rigid, offended, and dropped the pieces in his hands. "Why don't you want me working on it? I made the damn thing in the first place, why wouldn't I be qualified to fix it, your highness?"

"Oh, don't give me that! You think I haven't noticed how it's only my stuff that breaks? You'll make the same thing for everyone, but somehow the one I get breaks every other week!" You huffed, fists clenched and eyes narrowed.

Finally, Rocket turned back to look at you, his nose nearly grazing your thigh in the sardine tin you called a bedroom. Rabid coal eyes bored into you as he stared you down, bearing teeth and growling. "And just what are ya implyin' there, princess?"

His intimidation tactics only triggered your own instinctual aggression, making your scaly tail sway as a warning, your lip curling up and revealing a jagged and carnivorous grin. "You're sabotaging my weapons and I know it."

"Take it back," he warned. "Now."

"No," you tested, leaning down closer to him. With shoulders bouncing with labored breath, he tried to calm himself to no avail. Suddenly, before you could register what had happened, you brought your hand to your burning cheek. Warm, red blood dressed your fingertips as you drew them back to observe them. In the background of your vision, Rocket shrunk against the wall, chest heaving.

"I-I'm sorry..." he whispered, barely audibly. "I-I didn't mean to-"

"Y-You scratched me...?" the hurt in your voice melted his resolve even further as you pressed your back to the bunks in an effort to be even centimeters further from him. Finally, you'd gained enough courage to bolt out of the door he was partially blocking, bounding over him like spooked prey. He watched you disappear within the depths of the ship, sobbing, likely to go tattle on him.

Rocket slid to the floor, holding his head in his hands. He didn't like hurting people, at least not ones that weren't hurting him first. But you'd hurt his feelings, right? He wracked his brain trying to justify how poorly he always treated you.

You were the thorn in Rocket's side, a headache that refused to subside. You got stuck in his fur and crept under his skin like an infection. He had become sickly addicted to yelling at you and eagerly awaited altercations with you. He was just excited to put you in your place, he'd tell himself. Winning arguments with you would get him so incredibly high, and losing them, incredibly low, all he could do to return to neutrality was relieve himself.

But he hated you, right? Rocket hated you so much, that sometimes, he'd listen to you snore from above when he couldn't sleep. Only to have something to bully you for the next day, of course.

-----

You stared at your disfigured face in the mirror, standing in the cubical of a bathroom that you all shared. Lightly, you drug your fingers over the quartet of shallow cuts. Sometimes you'd squeeze your cheek, just to watch a sparse dots of red surface. You were still in shock, unable to believe he'd actually tried to harm you.

Maybe you'd pushed him too far, maybe he really did hate you. Maybe you really did hate him. What you couldn't question, however, was the way your tummy churned at the sight and sensation. You couldn't possibly be aroused from this? God, you were sick.

-----

You lay flat on your back, back in your bunk with Rocket in the same position above, with nothing between you but air, aluminum bars, and a thin mattress. You could hear his shallow breathing, and you wondered if he was asleep or not, not that you were willing to check.

"(Y/N)," he finally spoke, swallowing painfully and running a paw over his forehead to soothe himself in some way. "You awake?"

You were almost scared to answer. What was the correct choice? Was he going to do something to you if you didn't answer? Would it be better to pretend to be asleep to avoid a fight? "Mhmm." you responded shakily.

"I was just gonna say, I put your blaster and a few spare parts in a box in your trunk," he mumbled, barely above a whisper. "Ya might wanna tell whoever ya take it to upgrade the trigger to something with less resistance, that should fix it for good."

"Thank you..." you breathed, quiet as a mouse. "I'll tell him."

"I'm sorry..." he stammered from above, curling himself in a comforting ball. "For...ya know? Does it still hurt...?"

"A little." you answered timidly. "They weren't very deep, it'll probably heal without any scarring."

Rocket's muscles instinctively relaxed at that, relieved he wouldn't have to look at your disfigured face and be reminded of his monstrous temper for long. "That's good..."

"I'm sorry I insulted you..." you confessed, lying still so as not to let the creaking bed disturb the quiet.

"Don't be, I'd be suspicious too." He finally let go of a breath he didn't know he was keeping. "And, for the record, I haven't been giving you broken tech on purpose, but I guess..." he halted, unsure if or how to admit his dark pleasures. "I guess I do kinda like it when we fight..."

"...Why?" you asked, a bit sickened.

Rocket's jaws parted again, as he thought he'd finally found the words to say, but suddenly, there was a searing ache in his chest. Reaching up, as if to catch it in his paws, he sighed. This wasn't the time, he hadn't come to terms with it yet.

"I guess...I just really can't stand you."

#gotg x reader #rocket raccon x reader #rocket x reader angst #rocket angst #rocket raccoon #rocket raccoon x you #rocket raccoon x y/n #gotg rocket #gotg rocket x reader #gotg

[raccoonfallsharder]

rocket raccoon prompt week ✷ day seven home ✷.⁺⋆˚₊

fluff | no use of yn | gn reader | drabble | word count: 661.

Home had been a shining city on the far horizon for most of Rocket’s formative years: distant and gleaming under an impossible blossom-blue dome. Unreachable. Untouchable. He’d left any hope of it behind, a dozen cannon-shots or more before he’d ever even stepped foot off the Arête. No. Rocket had gone straight from the cages and right into his escape pod, out into a sky that had suddenly seemed much less beautiful and much more forever. 

And so home had always been a far-away thing, a thing he could never go back to, a thing that — like love, like peace, like a restful night’s sleep or body that didn’t hurt — Rocket could simply never have. A thing that hadn’t been meant for him. Like the screws slowly grinding away at his bones or the muscle contractures he’s always fighting in his hips and chest, home had just become another old ache that he’d grown to barely notice, except when he’s on a planet where the weather is bad. 

And then, one shift — when it was just you and him — he’d been trying to work the knots out of his shoulders. You’d reached out with dancing fingers and a query on your lips — a gentle little sound of offering — and he’d gone as still as a moon pinned between two gravity wells. Your fingers had felt light as little birds, perched on his shoulders weightlessly, and you’d guided them into a rolling series of rotations. Then you’d tugged him between your knees, and kneaded every small stone you’d found lodged under his skin and fur. 

When he’d finally gone as molten and buttery as a beeswax candle on a warm day, you’d murmured another little question. He’d blinked at you blankly — completely disconnected from anything but the feel of his body, pliant for the first time in possibly his entire life — so you’d pulled him onto your lap and continued your little ministry of touch until he’d fully curled up, his tail a wreath of feathery brushes around you both. His back had pressed itself into your hands as you’d worked your thumbs into the base of his spine: freeing the tension from his hips, beckoning it out of muscle and bone, letting it dissipate into the air between your fingertips. Your hands had been so warm that even all the metal plates and bolts deep inside had suddenly felt like a part of him — had suddenly matched his own body temperature — every piece slotting together inside him with a rightness he’d never known before. The air in his lungs had turned into little pearls and gemstones, spilling up into his throat like jeweled gravel. He’d made a noise — some kind of rumble — and it had startled him until your hands had soothed over him again and you’d whispered something that had sounded like you’re just purring. 

He’d never say any of this in front of the others, never let them know about this: about how soft he is for this, for the warm quiet circle of space in your arms and on your thighs. He’d never climb into your lap like this if they could see it; never make a nest out of your body-heat and burrow into the loose thick folds of your sweatshirt. He  only does it on the shifts when everyone else is asleep, or planetside, or away. 

It’s not that he’s ashamed. It’s just — this is something special and precious and small, and if he looks at it too closely or acknowledges it exists, he may never have it back. But for now — for these moments that he can only measure in the soft wash of his breath or the thrum of his pulse in his wrists, the steady sound of your heartbeat holding him together like gravity — for now, it’s touchable, and attainable, and real — 

Moreso than any shining city on the far horizon, glimmering against the sweep of a blossom-blue ocean and a forever sky.

i did it! i brought my wordcount down! this was just a fun little exercise in writing whatever weird shit came to my mind so sorry if it makes no sense but i figured i'd indulge my inclination toward purple prose (get rekt literary critics). anyway this was fun and i am very much in favor of many future rocket raccoon prompts & prompt weeks, and thank you for creating this and bringing it to my attention, @frostedwitch ♡♡♡

i will be putting out a masterlist for this set of prompts sometime next week probably. i really hope you enjoyed reading as much as i enjoyed writing! ♡

day six. bite rocket prompt week masterlist ✷ main masterlist rocket raccoon prompt week list

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

#rocketraccoonpromptweek #rfh fluff #rocket raccoon #guardians of the galaxy #rocket raccoon fanfiction #gotg fanfiction #rfh fanfic #gotg rocket #rocketraccoon #rocket gotg #drabbles #rocket raccoon x you #rocket x you #x reader #reader insert #gn reader #rocket racoon x reader #rocket x reader #gotg rocket x reader #gotg x reader #guardians of the galaxy fanfiction

[mostly-just-jo]

Face of disgust and confusion but

Rocket is so cute

#my art #MCU #rocket raccoon #gotg vol 2 #gotg #gotg3 #gotg fanart #guardians of the galaxy #rocket x reader

[countlessimagines]

Star Lord’s Sister [ Adam Warlock x Reader ]

GOTG VOLUME 3 SPOILERS!!!

Summary: Star lord’s sister takes a liking to the new member of the Guardians

A/N: my beloved!!! <3

-

Ever since you met Adam Warlock, he had been head over heels for you. Constantly following you around, wanting to be by your side 24/7, interested in your hobbies, and so much more.

You honestly didn’t mind it and found it adorable. And you would be lying if you said you weren’t catching feelings too.

Adam and you had been on quite a few dates since meeting and tried to spend most of your time together since Rocket always whisked him away for Guardians’ duties. He would always pout when he had to leave, but would always kiss you with so much passion, that the rest of the guardians would gag while boarding the ship.

And your brother seemed to not enjoy the constant hanging out together as much as you did. Peter had begun to call you at the end of each week from Earth to catch up on what was going on. He quickly noticed your interests began to revolve around Adam and you two seemed to be attached to the hip.

“So, the guy saves me and you fall madly in love with him?” Peter snickered and shook his head. “I leave for a few months and already it sounds like you two are married.”

You rolled your eyes at your brother’s response, not wanting to hear any of his nonsense. “So what? I am an adult and can do whatever I please.”

“Okay sure, let me know when the wedding is.”

You were about to fire back until Adam walked in from the bathroom only in a towel, saw Peter on the monitor, and promptly fell to the ground and army crawled away.

You groaned and dragged your hand across your face. “Adam!”

“Hey hey wait a minute! I was joking about the wedding, Adam get your ass back to the screen!” Peter began to shout over the screen. “Stay away from my sister!”

“Okay bye, love you!” You hurried and ended the call quickly.

Adam rose from behind the side of the bed and shrugged innocently when you turned to him. You picked up a pillow from the ground and tossed it at his head.

“Sweetheart! I told you I was calling my brother, he was finally warming up to the idea of us,” you stood up and laid flat on the bed. “Now he’s seen you half naked in my place so I can only imagine he’s going to fly all the way here to beat you up.”

Adam shuffled into clothes and flopped beside you. “I would like to see him try to keep me away from you.”

You faced him and couldn’t help but melt at his cute pouty face. “Yeah yeah, but please don’t hurt my brother if he tries to kick your ass.”

Adam nodded and grabbed you lovingly in his arms. “Can we just stay in today?”

“Why’s that?” You mumbled into his chest.

“Because I rather cuddle my girlfriend than help rocket on a mission today.” Adam kissed your forehead repeatedly and made you giggle uncontrollably.

“Stop stop!” You said and pushed on his chest. “Why don’t you go tell rocket that you can’t make it and then we can have a lazy day in?”

Adam planted a kiss on your check, stood up, saluted you, then quickly left to get out of saving the world today - simply because his world was too cute to leave.

-

An hour went by without Adam returning, and it wasn’t until your monitor began to beep did you put two and two together. You answered the call that was coming from the Guardians’ ship and saw Adam’s face pop up, and he was in full gear.

You shook your head and sighed, “Care to explain yourself?”

“Okay, well,” Adam dragged off his voice and moved a bit from the screen to point an accusing finger towards Rocket, “He told me it would only take an hour, but once I got on the ship he told me it was a two day trip.”

Rocket popped up and said, “Sorry for stealing your boyfriend, (Y/N). You’ll have to cuddle your pillow the next couple of nights. The world needs Warlock, and trust me I wouldn’t bring his bright gold self unless it was necessary.”

Rocket jumped away when Adam tried to wack him.

“I’m sorry my love. I promise it will go by quick and I’ll be back before you can say ‘I have the best boyfriend in the whole wide galaxy and he’s gonna smother me in kisses when he returns!’” Adam tried to do a high pitched voice to imitate you to which you rolled your eyes.

“Alright, whatever you say,” you waved and blew a kiss to him before ending the call.

-

The next few days were uneventful, and you were knocked out asleep when your guardians pin began to beep and pulled you out of sleep.

You pressed on it and spoke into it sleepily, “what’s wrong?”

Rocket’s urgent voice spoke through the comm, and it made you wake up fully. “(Y/N)! Prepare med packs! Adam got hit and we need to work on him urgently!”

You rushed out of your apartment and down flights of stairs before running to the supply closet. You pressed your comm again to speak to Nebula. Once she finally answered, you explained quickly what was going on and she was next to you within minutes to set up for their arrival.

It wasn’t long before Kraglin rushed in with Adam slumped over his shoulder, barely responsive. He placed him on a nearby table while you grabbed Adam’s hand and tried to figure out what was wrong with him.

“He took a blow to his stomach, we should be able to patch him up quickly but the beast repeatedly hit him in the wound… making him bleed out.” Kraglin was rushing his words, not making complete sense but still wanting to explain everything.

You nodded as Nebula put a med pack on his stomach, hoping it would help. Adam started to breath deeply and you let out a small cry seeing him in such distress.

A part of you knew that the pack would either help or just make the situation worse. As Adam didn’t wake up quickly enough to be okay, you grabbed a sewing kit, alcohol, and a towel.

Removing the med pack, you removed his vest and immediately began to work with Nebula’s help. It was a tense moment, only the sounds of Adam’s breathing could be heard in the room.

Not too long after you finished the stitch across his stomach and placed the med pack on his wound to finish the healing process. Everyone let out a breath of relief as Adam began to breath normally again.

“You guys can go and clean up, I bet you all have some wounds that need to be tended to.” You said to Kraglin and Rocket who nodded.

Nebula reassured Rocket that she wouldn’t leave you alone. You smiled gratefully at her as you grabbed Adam’s hand and pulled up a chair beside the table.

“I’m gonna wait a few hours before trying to move him to my place.”

-

Hours went by and you had fallen asleep, still holding tightly onto Adam, not wanting to let go in fear something bad would happen if you did. It was in those moments, going in and out of sleep - that you both realized how much you truly loved one another. It was a selfless and innocent love, something so pure that nothing would come in-between the two of you.

Adam had woken up first, confused and sore, but the moment he saw you slumped over the table, holding his hand - he instantly calmed down. He was so relieved he made it back alive and was with you again. He remembered his promise he made and kissed your hand repeatedly to wake you up.

With a startled jump, you woke up in a frenzy and immediately checked to see if something was wrong.

“Did I worry you?” Adam said softly, gazing lovingly at you.

“Oh, so so much.” You placed a hand on his cheek, so happy to see him awake and well. “I think I might have to kidnap you from missions from now on until you’re better.”

“Trust me, I am going to try to take less advice from Rocket and Groot on missions… and take a break.” Adam said and shuttered as if remembering how he ended up in the situation in the first place.

“I’m just happy you’re home,” you smiled and placed a kiss on his cheek.

Adam became teary-eyed at the thought of you being his home. After being pulled out of the cocoon too early and losing his mother, he had felt like he would never feel at home anywhere and be lost without anything to live for. Thankfully, he was wrong. He had found you and the guardians, and now he could go home to someone who loved and cared for him. And Peter would be lying if he said he wasn’t happy that you had found someone to love. In the whole of the galaxy, your brother was happy you had Adam.

#adam warlock #adam warlock x reader #will poulter x reader #will poulter #gotg #gotg volume 3 spoilers #gotg imagine #gotg vol 3 #Peter quill #Star lord #Gamora #nebula #rocket raccoon #mantis #drax #guardians of the galaxy #Adam warlock imagine #will poulter imagine

[oolongteaboba]

# ◞ ˚ ─ RED LACE (OR LACK THEREOF)

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.

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.

#🪐 - gotg fics #rocket raccoon x reader #rocket x reader #rocket x reader smut #rocket raccoon x reader smut #rocket x you #rocket raccoon x you