A/N: am i starting this midway through october? Maybe so. You cant stop me
Contents: No actual smut just rocket being horny. Nsfw descriptions? Smut mentioned. Female reader. No use of Y/N
Friends. Friends. Friends. Friends. Friends. Friends. Just friends. Rocket chants in his head as he fixes his eyes to the gun he's tinkering with. To be honest it hasn't ressembled anything even similar to a gun since you've come flouncing in, basically flaunting your flarking flawless body in your little skimpy loungewear, making it pretty much impossible for Rocket to get anything done.
Not for the first time this evening his eyes rake over your body when you turn away from him. From the way your hair fell perfectly against the back of your neck, slightly mussed up from a day of doing nothing much, allowing Rocket to imagine that your head looked that way from being buried in a pillow, his hand placed at the crown of your skull, claws gently gripping the roots of your hair, keeping your moans nice and muffled. He shakes his head out of the daydream and his eyes continue their path down your body, your oversized sleep shirt drapes over the gentle curve of your shoulders. He knew that if you turn around he would be able to see the swell of your tits, and the outline of your nipples where you'd decided you didn't need a bra. A decision he both cursed and thanked you for. The hem of the shirt rested on the crest of your ass, bunched up where he swears he'd seen you purposefully hoist it up before you bend over to do fuck knows what. He actually doesn't think he has a single idea what you're actually doing in here apart from shamelessly parading around for him to gawk at but his thoughts never get any further as his eyes fall on your ass. He actually thinks his jaw drops open and his brain short-circuits a bit. The quite frankly tiny booty shorts you're wearing do nothing to protect your modesty, and the way you're bent over allows them to ride up even more, exposing your soft skin. He has the urge to bite. Not enough to break skin, just enough to make you squeal in that adorable way you do when something startles you. He thinks about the way your ass would feel in his hand, firmly gripping the plumpness and maybe even the way it would bounce if he gave it a sharp smack- oh fuck. He feels himself go entirely still as his eyes lock on the most glorious thing he thinks he's ever seen. Right there, between your legs, not five feet away from him he can see the plump outline of your pussy, the thin fabric of your shorts the only barrier between him and what he's sure must be the prettiest fucking pussy in the galaxy. Holy shit, was that a wet spot? He has to catch himself as he feels a growl rise up in his throat, he just wants to shove his nose into the warmth between your legs and lap up your wetness until you're a quivering mess.
He needs to look away, he feels warm all over and the sorry excuse of scrap metal he called a gun on his lap was the only thing between his cock straining against his jumpsuit and the world. He tears his eyes away from your pussy, just to trail them down your perfect legs, trying desperately to think of something, anything else.
Just friends. Just friends. Just friends. He went back to chanting, the issue was not that he needed to be reminded not to try and make a move on you, lest he ruin the friendship you have with each other. In fact he found it quite easy to deny his urges, simply because he know you were not interested. How could you be? Rocket just needed to remind himself of that. It wasn't your fault he was quite frankly obsessed with you and that made him second guess every little action. You were just innocently doing- wait, what were you actually doing? You had your head in a box and were rummaging around. Almost as if you'd read his mind, you straighten up with a sigh from within your throat that could easily be mistaken for a moan. You don't have anything in your hands, you must not have found what you were looking for. When you turn around your eyes almost immediately find Rockets and he fixes his gaze to his project in front of him, cursing himself for being caught staring. When he dares to lift his gaze again he notices that he was completely right about your nipples. The hard outline of them creating shadows in your shirt and he wonders if it's because you're cold or because of the friction of the shirt. Then he wonders if they're sensitive, if he could simply brush over them and have you arching your back into his hands. Then he thinks it must be the friction, because this room feels boiling. Although that might just be Rocket. And with the clothes- or lack-of clothes you were wearing he wouldn't be surprised if you were cold. Your bare feet padded against the cool metal of the ship as you made to leave. Definitely cold. And when his eyes flicked up to meet yours you smiled at him, as if you knew something he didn't.
Summary: When Kraglin finds you in Rocket's quarters, he questions his captain on who you were. However, Rocket isn't ready to answer that just yet.
~
It wasn't often that you found yourself anywhere near, let alone on the Bowie. It was too dangerous, even in stationary. You could stumble over stray wires or exposed pipes, you could hit a bunch of buttons and cause the ship to explode, or you could take ship for yourself and never return to Knowhere ever again.
Of course, those were Rocket's over exaggerations. He really just didn't want to see you get hurt on his ship, meaning it would be his fault.
In his eyes, at least.
The only times you were on the Bowie was when he was there. Only him. The rest of the ship would remain empty and silent, the only thing heard being the distant echoing of moaning, partnered with the wet sounds of pleasure.
Good thing the ship was soundproof when it needed to be.
After however long you were there for, Rocket always, always walked you home.
"For two reasons," he'd say. "One, gotta make sure my girl gets home safe, 'cause what kinda partner would I be if I didn't?" And, "two," he had hesitated before mentioning this to you, "I can't have the crew knowin' about you just yet."
Many thoughts had run through your head that day. Questions and doubts, was he embarrassed of you? Ashamed? Rocket wouldn't even associate himself with you if that was the case, he made sure you knew that.
You pondered on his reasoning, wanting to know why you had to be kept a secret from his family.
You were only left worrying for a few seconds before he added to his cliffhanger of a sentence.
"I'm not ready, princess. Not yet."
You understood his side. And with a nod, you respected it. And it hadn't been brought up since.
Spending time with Rocket on the Bowie wasn't rare, but it certainly wasn't common. The rare thing was being left alone on the ship.
It was the next morning when you realised where you had spent the night. His bunk had never been the most comfortable bed to have sex in. That just added to the many reasons why you'd go to your place, usually per his request.
You had more pillows, your blankets were softer, your bed was bigger. Rocket occasionally got genuinely worried that if he didn't set his alarm, he'd never wake up. Being surrounded by your warmth and scent was a trap, and you used it often when you didn't want him to leave. And why would he want to?
So it wasn't a surprise when you woke up with a leg and an arm hanging over the side of his single mattress, with a slight cramp in your neck, and the sheets half way up your bare back.
The bed was barely able to fit you comfortably, let alone both of you. Yet another reason as to why Rocket adored your living space. It was made to have him in it.
One of your eyes peeled open, glancing around the room and taking in every piece of his quarters.
His projects were scattered in every corner, on every spot of the floor and covering his desk. Pieces of metal littered, lost, and forgotten, or perhaps left there for when he returned to fiddle with them however he pleased.
Wearing nothing but the sheets of his bed, you sat up with a groan and ran your fingers through your hair. Visualising how messy it must look, you reached for your brush, only to be reminded that this wasn't your room. Meaning your clothes were elsewhere.
Your eyes scanned the floor, searching through every piece of tech, metal, trash, and clothing that belonged to your dearest Rocket, who constantly told you to “watch out” and “don’t touch that”. Your gaze settled on the outfit you had worn the previous night, bundled up nice and neat beside the bed.
He had a tendency to fold your clothes the morning after an eventful night. You'd never catch him doing it. But you always knew it was him.
And he, being Rocket, was currently nowhere to be seen among everything that littered his living space.
You stood and stretched before picking up and examining your clothes.
No stains. Better than last time.
You two had gone out for a dinner, a rare occasion that Rocket wasn't particularly fond of, but he sucked it up for you. Begrudgingly, but he did.
The outfit you had chosen was much too fancy for the state you were currently in. But it's all you had, so it had to do. It revealed as much as you wanted and covered what you wished.
Rocket had yet to return to his quarters, and you remembered how clear he was about you roaming the ship without him.
So, you waited, respecting his wishes and staying in his room, on his bed, prolonging your morning routine as best you could with what you had.
You weren’t sure when he’d be back, and you weren’t even sure when he left, but you assumed if he had left you here alone, it wouldn’t be long.
The smooth sliding of Rocket’s bedroom door opening made your head snap up.
“Rocket, you—“
Your eyes locked on a man’s stomach for a single second when you realised that was not the face of the raccoon you had spent countless nights with.
Letting your eyes quickly flick up to his face, seeing a short brown and grey stumble along his jaw and a tall red fin wired into his head like a mohawk. His light brown long sleeved shirt came in contrast to Rocket’s short sleeved blue one.
His focus went from the device in his hand to your face, taking note of the smudged make up and your slightly disheveled hair.
“Who are you?” He had asked after pausing. Startled but not scared. Definitely confused.
“I’m…”
You couldn’t tell him how you were connected to Rocket, that was the one and only thing on your mind. Didn’t matter who this guy was, you had made a promise to your partner.
“Why are you in here?”
“I’m a friend of Rocket’s.” Your words were quick. You thought it was the best, and most harmless thing you could say to this stranger.
It was obvious he knew Rocket. That fact was made clear by him simply being on the ship is such a relaxed manner, without others to guide him around.
“Oh,” his voice was quiet, almost unsure. “A friend?”
You nodded and blinked once when your eyes had started to sting from keeping them so wide for so long.
“And why isn’t he in here with you?”
The amount of questions he was asking made you nervous. You almost thought he knew the answer to all of them, but the confusion on his face told you he was genuinely baffled that a stranger was in Rocket's quarters. On Rocket's bed.
You would be shocked too, if you weren't the one being talked about.
“He left.”
“Left?”
“Not sure where. Or when.”
You weren’t entirely helping your case here, but it was the best you could do to avoid telling this man who you were really were to Rocket.
At times, you weren’t even sure who you really were to Rocket.
The man’s eyes glazed over you, every part of you, taking in every detail almost is if he was making a judgement on what to do you with you.
It wasn’t the most comfortable stare, but his eyes didn’t seem to carry any malicious intent.
“Might be best for you to wait outside for the Cap'n to come back."
He spoke politely but his face was stern. And rightfully so too, you couldn't blame him. Based on his knowledge, you could have snuck onto the ship and taken anything you damn well pleased.
Of course, that wasn't was what happening at all.
But you couldn't tell him that. 'Not yet', per Rocket's pleading request.
With a nod, “sure, of course,” you left the room.
The man followed behind you by just a few feet. A reasonable distant to be not too close, but able to be certain you were heading towards the exit.
Making it to the open doors of the ship was an awkward journey. The sounds of your footsteps clanked off the walls no matter how soft you attempted to walk. Your posture was straight and your head was up, yet it was clear you were embarrassed by the red tint on your cheeks.
You took in each detail of the ship that you seemed to have missed all the three or four times you had visited the inside of the Bowie. Wires, bags, the occasional chewed up toy, it wasn’t just a ship the Guardians eused for missions, it was a home.
It made you want Rocket to bring you here more often.
But that was something for you ask when you weren’t being escorted out of the ship by one of his crew members.
You reached the large open door of the Bowie, the same Guardian still guiding you further out of the ship.
"What are you doing?"
Your eyes had landed on Rocket before he managed to ask that question. He took his last couple steps towards you, but his eyes were locked on the person who had confronted you back in Rocket's room, the man who was still standing behind you with his hand on your back, a subtle motion to forbid you from trying anything.
You felt like you were being arrested, which you technically could have been, if any of the Guardians chose to do so.
"She was in your quarters, Cap'n." He explained, almost with a stammer.
"I know." Rocket's gaze flickered over you, showcasing a twinge of softness before locking back on his fellow Guardian. "I left her there."
"You ... Respectfully, Rocket, I think leaving your … hook ups alone on the ship," he spoke carefully, "ain't the best idea."
"Hook up-?" Rocket took another step closer. "She's not a fuckin' 'hook up', Kraglin."
Finally knowing the man's name brought some ease to your soul, letting you exhale through your nose, quiet and soft. It was comforting, in a way, to know the name of at least one of the people Rocket spends each of his days with.
"i just ..." Kraglin glanced at you. "I just assumed-"
"Can you get your hands off her?"
Kraglin's hand dropped from your back as he took two cautionary steps to the side. "Uh, yeah, yeah, sorry ... ma'am-"
"Don't call her 'ma'am'."
Kraglin took one extra step back. "Right." He was surprised by Rocket's hard glare. It wasn't angry, but somehow eerie. His stance was relaxed while his eyes were unblinking. "Who is she?" Kraglin built the courage to ask.
"My ..." Rocket now froze. His glare transferred to you, his eyes softening once more as his mind searched for the best answer to give his co-pilot. His brain rattled for an explanation as to why this strange woman was in his room. And in that outfit.
The moment he had taken it off you last night was still fresh and replaying in his mind.
So was the moment he folded them the morning after.
"She's a friend."
Kraglin looked at you but your eyes were on your friend. Taking in every piece of his expression and body language just to know if he believed his own words.
"Alright." Kraglin hesitated while his hands brushed against his pants twice before extending one to shake yours. "It’s nice to meet you."
Slight confusion made your brows furrow. The tension in your face quickly melted when you looked at his hand then into his eyes. You return the gesture, shaking his hand with a gentle smile.
"You too, Kraglin."
He offered a nod to you and a quick side glance to Rocket. From what you could see, he presenting a sly smile to his captain. A knowing smile.
Rocket only replied by nodding his head and avoiding his eyes, keeping his line of sight to the ground while Kraglin walked off, leaving the two of you in a moment of silence.
It broke when Rocket spoke up while keeping his eyes on the ground, searching the dirt surrounding his feet for something interesting to distract himself with.
"What did you tell him?"
You looked at him, hoping he'd look at you, but the gravel seemed to be holding his attention with an unyielding grasp.
"That we were friends."
His ear twitched, "nothing else?"
You shook your head, "nope. Not even my name."
He sighed, and his eyes gradually made their way up to yours, who had been waiting patiently. His right hand gestured forward, in a way of offering his gratitude, before being placed back on his hip.
"Thank you."
You shared a small smile, understanding his worry. The worry he had mentioned to you before in that trembling voice you had only ever heard from him once.
"You're welcome, Rocket."
~
DAYUM THAT TOOK FOREVER
Anywhozzle, hope you enjoyed Day 1! And I apologise for the future days delay, but they will be posted!
Warnings: None today, sillies, you’re in the clear.
Summary: Nothing beats a fat nap after a tiring day of being Captain.
~
It wasn’t too dark, but fuck, was he tired.
His knees ached from the constant standing, walking and occasional sprinting throughout the never ending day. The pain hadn’t revealed itself until the moment the Bowie had landed on Knowhere. There was a tiny pull in side of his neck, to which he tried fixing by massaging it as best he could.
As claws brushed through his grime-fill fur, he scratched the spot between his ears that you always paid just enough attention to, but it was nowhere close to being the same.
Your scratches were always gentle, and your massages sent him straight to sleep, especially after a day like this.
Rocket fiddled tiredly through his keys, searching for the one you had given him a short while ago. Your spare key, a wordless offering for him to visit any time he needed you, or just wanted to see your gorgeous face.
It turned into a common occurrence, him warning you through message, telling you he needed a break and some time with you.
You two communicated, always finding the best time to meet up during your busy schedules. Outside of your work hours, and during a time where his duties as a guardian could be set to the side, he’d be with you.
Sometimes sitting in silence was all he truly wanted, but it was always a task for him to tell you that. His method changed over time as he became increasingly comfortable in the presence of the one he cared for most, in a different way than he did for everyone else.
It took him a long time to understand the way he loved you.
It’s started small and subtle. The tiniest of cues to tell you, he noticed what you noticed, that he cared for what you cared for.
So, so subtle. You didn’t come close to registering what he was doing when he first started looking out for the things you did.
Rocket seemed relieved by this at first. It was a sign that he wasn’t being too obvious. To you, at least. And you were all that mattered.
It was no different when the second he unlocked your apartment door, a gust of mixed relief and exhaustion radiated through him. His body, ready to be knocked the fuck out on your bed, right beside your perfect presence.
Hopefully including those head scratches he loves so much, and needed desperately. That he could admit.
Rocket’s feet were heavy, making his steps louder than usual. As loud as they could be for someone his size.
Passing through the hallway after closing and locking the door, his bag dropped to the ground with a clank and a thud. His fingers rushed lazily to untie his boots without a care. He kicked off his shoes and left them wherever they landed, separated into two different spots in the hall on their sides.
He beelined for the bedroom, the cozy space he shared with you, the place he knew you’d be on your day off from work.
With a sigh, he pulled off the blue and red uniform off his shoulders, choosing to leave only his trousers and belt on for the time being.
The bedroom door had been left ajar by you, allowing you to keep your attention captivated by the book in your hands, and a part of your focus vacant for the sounds of Rocket finally returning home.
He pushed the door open, letting it gently swing the rest of the way with a quiet creak. His eyes went to your side of the bed, finding you lying on your stomach, engrossed in the book that laid on your pillow looking right back up at you.
Your focus tore away from the pages of fiction when you heard him enter the room.
Peering over your shoulder and spotting his fatigue, you greeted him with a soft, “hey,” as he moved a step closer to the bed.
With a heavy sigh, “hey, baby,” he replied back.
His eyes were low and his body was aching to lie down. To rest and just be with you was all he wanted right now, holy shit, just let him hold you. He’d beg if it was required.
You studied him, every claw and movement. The lack of sleep in his eyes, and how gravity seemed to be stronger on him than you, told you he was drained, in need of care, even if he’d never admit it.
“You look tired.” Although you didn’t say it out loud.
Him, out of everyone, knew how tired he was. He didn’t need it pointed out and you knew him enough to not state the obvious.
His hands found his belt, unbuckling it with haste while his eyes focused on nothing but the air in front of him. With it loosened, off, and dropped to the ground, he looked back to you to find your eyes had never left him.
“Turn around,” he murmured. His voice was deeper and slurred with need of sleep while his eyes flickered around your body and the sheets it laid on.
You half-turned your body to face him better, now able to see more of him and the state he was in.
A shower wasn’t needed, but it would do him good. But he didn’t seem to be in the mood for critiques.
“On your back.” He was clearer this time, more gentle, like a request.
Granting it, you turned and shuffled into a comfortable position on your back while he waited patiently by the bed.
You settled and looked at him expectedly. He placed his hands on the side of the bed, pulling himself up with noticeable effort despite it being a second nature task, hopping on and off the bed every day. It was different when his energy was absent. Leaving the house at 4am and returning home just after 6pm, and running on two hours of sleep, had quite an impact on one’s battery level.
Your legs flattened against the bed to make room as he moved closer, bringing himself above you and lowering his body against yours, lying comfortably with his legs relaxed naturally, his arms resting on either side of you, and his head nuzzling against your chest.
It wasn’t a state you often found him in. Tired, yes, but that was a given considering his occupation.
Clingy, however, was normally when he was drunk and focused solely on his girl.
He’d been like this before, after a job or an exhausting day. You welcomed this side of him and honestly encouraged it when you sensed he needed some loving.
Rocket had never had this option before meeting you.
The closest he had was curling up in Groot’s lap when they were on the run. It would’ve had to have been a freezing night, or he must have been terribly injured to be found in such a vulnerable position; relaxed without a care in the world.
Yet, here he was, in your home, his home, in your perfect embrace, being loved more than he ever thought he could be.
Cared for, thought about, appreciated.
This was his. You were his.
He sinked further into your love, his arms tightening around you, his face and body wanting to be impossibly closer.
You fingers traced patterns through his fur before stopping in that sweet spot between his ears, scratching slowly, gently, perfectly. The instinctive motions were filled with natural attention to detail, eliciting a relaxed breath from him, finally able to give into the exhaustion that weighed him down since the moment he left you alone in the bed that morning.
Rocket loved you dearly. So deeply that it always surprised him, the lengths he would go for you without a mere second of hesitation.
You shared this love, and he knew that.
You made sure he did.
Every morning and night, through voice or message, you’d tell him he was loved.
It took him a while to believe it. To understand that you were telling the truth. After years and years of his past being filled with mental torment, physical strain and torture, he believed you.
He believed in whatever you told him; that he deserved to be loved.
A/N: no one can tell me how to do this challenge. In order? No thanks. One every day? Fuck you
Contents: domestic guardians. Rocket being cute
You were a creature of mystery to Rocket Raccoon. You were clearly a very capable member of the Guardians, no one could doubt that, but you were also just so- so soft. You had a never ending supply of kind words to everyone around, most frequently the Guardians. You were forever just handing out hugs to anyone and everyone, and somehow you seemed to know Rocket had an aversion to physical contact so just stuck to soft touches here and there. But that in itself was a kindness he was not used to. So it was no surprise when you suggested something as domestic as a weekly movie night to the Guardians. It had started out at your apartment and had slowly expanded to other members homes as the weeks went by. This week you were all packed into Rocket's apartment. The guardians sprawled out across various cushions, pillows and blankets. You and Rocket were squished onto a ratty sofa he had found on some street corner after he'd had complaints the first time he hosted that he had nothing comfy. He had the sneaking suspicion that the sofa was not meant for two people but since he was smaller than the average person anyway and you had just come and settled yourself right down next to him he wasn't going to complain. You had your knees drawn up to your chest and Rocket could feel with great precision every single part of his body that had any sort of contact with yours. Groot snuggled into the crook of your arm and your legs were covered in a fluffy blanket in your favorite color that you had brought from home. Comfortable silence settled over the guardians, occasional comments from Drax or Pete floated up through the air as the movie progressed.
"I am Groot" Groot mumbled into your arm as he stretched and rolled over.
You hummed in response "Yeah hot chocolate would be good right now"
After a moment you began to move, slipping your feet out from underneath you.
"I am Groot," Groot complained
"I can't get you hot chocolate sat here, bud"
Rocket grumbled from where he was sat next to you, "I'll get it"
"Thank you Rocket" you hummed as he slipped out of the chair, asking if any of the other Guardians wanted anything on the way.
A few moments later he returned with two steaming mugs and placed them both down on a crate serving as a side table. Groot clambered out of your arms to sit on the arm of the chair and slurp the cocoa up through a straw Rocket had helpfully supplied. You picked up your mug with both hands, letting the warmth seep into your skin. You smiled and leaned into Rocket, only hesitating for a moment before planting a kiss to the side of his cheek. You felt Rocket go completely still underneath your lips and heard the hitch in his breath. If you'd have looked you would have seen his eyes widen to the size of saucers, not daring to take his eyes off the screen and his claws grip the arm of the chair hard enough for threads to start pulling. Instead you just giggled and snuggled into his side, resting your head on his shoulder until he softened under your touch.
Writing a Drabble for every day of October based on this list:
(They’ll either be a Rocket x Reader, or just about Rocket himself)
If you guys have any ideas/suggestions for any of these themes, send them through the ask box!!
Now, it’s not certain that I’m doing this because October is a pretty busy month for me, but just in case, please send through any ideas you’d like to read!
And I have a few in my drafts for some of these, so not every suggestion will be written, I apologise! 
