Rocket x Reader There For You Part 2

Rocket x Reader

There For You Part 2

a Reader-Insert by SophiaofTerra (c)
(GOTG SPOILERS AHEAD)

     

            You sat alone in your room on the Milano. The battle was only yesterday, but you couldn’t help it as you relived each piece bit by bit in the last hour. It was the most exciting thing to happen to you since, uh, a long, long time ago. Come to think of it, it was the most exciting thing to happen to you. But in spite of it being PTSD worthy, it wasn’t the most troubling.

            No, no. It wasn’t even close.

            The most troubling piece, the part that nipped at your heart-strings, was the fact that you were in love with Rocket. The raccoon-lookalike had peeked your interest since the moment you saw him, and it was all uphill from there. Then, when you had almost died, in a Xandar-shattering revelation, you found out that the little guy had stolen your heart.

            It wouldn’t be that much of a problem if it weren’t for the fact that he considered you a friend. You were smart enough to check for the little signals guys gave off if they liked a girl, and so far the total had reached an astoundingly high zero. Nada. Nothing. Zilch. But, oh, no. Your poor teenage-cheerleader-drooling-over-the-quarterback mindset was relentless. And with every breath you took, your chest seemed to fill up with even more love for the fellow Guardian.

            You interlocked your fingers repeatedly, staring at the floor in thought. You wondered how long you could go on like this. How long could you make it before you got drunk, was the better question. Because, like in every cliché chick flick on Terra, you’d be in an inebriated state and confess your love to him. Given that the guy liked to drink, it wouldn’t take that long (and when you did, your confession would most likely end up being a stuttered jumble of words- so romantic).

            Your ears picked up the quiet sounds of music coming from Peter Quill’s tape deck. The melody loudened and you recognized its tune, lifting your head and listening closer. As the bass sent vibrations through the ship, your (e/c) eyes softened at the lyrics of the song. It was a Terran classic.

            Listen, baby. Ain’t no mountain high! Ain’t no valley low. Ain’t no river wide enough, baby!

            You smiled gently and sang the girl’s part in a reserved tone, glancing towards the closed door to make sure no one was peering in from outside. You allowed your (soprano/alto) voice to strengthen and you stood up as the chorus began, shutting your eyes and dancing around the (f/c) room. The world around you faded and the only things left were the music and your motion. You paid no mind to the visitor who had placed his ear against the cool metal of your door.

            “Er, (F/n)? Ya in there?”

            You skidded to a halt, falling silent and blushing deeply. Did he hear the whole thing?

            “Um, yeah. Yes! Just gimme a sec here,” you said, your voice trailing off at the latter. You tried to wipe the blush from your face, feigning confidence as you faked a smirk. You flattened your (f/c) shirt and paced over to the door, turning the knob quickly but cautiously to reveal Rocket, clad in the blue-colored form of his suit. He smiled up at you and gestured inside.

            “Can I come in?”

            You gave him a questioning look but didn’t prod further, “Sure, Rocket. Go ahead.”

            He nodded and padded inside, looking around for something. When he didn’t speak up about it, you decided to ask, “What’re you lookin’ for?”

            The raccoon-lookalike sent a look your way before responding, “I left something in here.”

            You raised a brow, “When?”

            He shrugged and replied in a casual manner, “Last night.”

            Your (e/c) eyes widened somewhat and your mouth fell agape, “Why were you- how did you- what did you-?”

            He chuckled, “Why, couldn’t sleep. How, I opened the door. As for what I did- don’tcha worry, girlie. I ain’t no pervert! I came ‘n ‘ere to have a bed, that’s all.”

            “I thought the Milano had enough space for everybody.”

            “My room was ‘bout a million degrees. Your room was cooler. Unlike you Earthers, I got, er, I got fur.” He scratched the back of his neck as he continued to look for whatever he’d left in your room.

            You placed a hand on your hip, blowing some (h/l), (h/c) hair out of your face, “Where did you sleep, then?”

            He coughed lightly, choosing to play the ‘I didn’t hear you’ game that every child plays with their parents when they’ve been busted. You rolled your eyes and sighed, a small smile threatening to pull at your (l/c) lips. “Okay,” you said, “What are you actually looking for?”

            He hopped up onto the bed and reached under the pillow adjacent to your own. He grinned as he pulled out a relatively small (for Rocket, anyway) machine gun, looking it over before climbing back down to the floor. He looked up at you with an amused expression, “I keep this baby with me at all times,” he caressed the weapon, swooning. “Aw, she’s a beauty.”

            You laughed, “But is she one-in-a-million-girls?”

            He tilted his head, confused, before shaking it off, “You a smart girl. You can figure out what went down last night.” He winked before opening the door to leave, “Meet the rest out on the flight deck. Quill wants to talk to’s er somethin’ stupid like that.”

            You let out an awkward chuckle as he closed the door behind him, your hand falling from your hip. Figure out what went down last night… If the gun was under the pillow next to mine… A look of realization donned your (s/c) face. How did I not notice? Your face paled and was soon turned a hint crimson as you brushed away a (h/t) strand of hair. Rocket slept in your bed last night. Your (e/c) eyes sparkled, ‘Better not let Quill find out. He’d never let that one go.’

            You shook your head, unable to contain the grin that formed on your lips. Whether it be from weather or not, Rocket was comfortable enough to sleep beside you. The two of you were closer than you’d previously thought.

            You turned the knob of your door, shivering slightly as the cool metal turned your hand cold. It was no wonder Rocket had come into your room to cool down, the place was practically a refrigerator. You left your room and headed to the main deck, where the rest of the team had already gathered. Rocket nodded to Drax before smiled down at Groot, who emitted a high-pitched squeak as he stretched.

            “What should we do next?” Peter asked, looking to the control panel. “Something good, somethin’ bad, bit of both?” He turned his head away from the screen.

            “We’ll follow your lead,” Gamora said matter-of-factly, “Star-Lord.”

            Peter smirked, pulling the lever downwards, “Bit of both!”

            You grinned at your friends as you shot for the stars.

            ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

            It had been several days since your ‘bit of both’ expedition had begun. You sat in the common area of the ship, watching with curiosity as Rocket put together yet another bomb.

            You inquired in an amused tone of voice, “How many of those are ya gonna make?”

            He didn’t look up as he responded, “As many as I need to. Which is all the time- I need to a lot, is what I mean.”

            “Why is that?”

            “You are the most questioning humie I ever met, ya know that?”

            You hummed, “Not the most annoying. Quill gets that award, right?”

            The raccoon-lookalike snickered, “Yeah, that dude really knows how to pluck a nerve.”

            You looked up as Peter’s voice sounded from the flight deck, “I heard that!”

            “I know!” He shouted and returned to his project. You laughed softly.

            “You avoided my question, Rocky.”

            “What’d ya just call me?”

            “Rocky. Like, uh, a nickname. Like how we call Peter Quill, or sometimes Pete. No offence behind it. And hey! You did it again.”

            Rocket grinned mischievously but didn’t answer. You sighed, a tad dejectedly, “Fine, fine. Whatever. Didn’t care, anyways.”

            You stood up and walked back to your room on the ship, where you sat down on your bed. You leaned against the windowsill, watching the stars pass by, lost in thought. Love will do that to you, you’d found. Ever since the night after the battle with Ronan, Rocket had been sleeping in your bed. You were cool with it, both literally and figuratively, but it was pretty difficult to keep your hands to yourself. After all, he did look like he’d make the greatest nostalgic-stuffed-animal-cuddle-buddy ever. Not that he was a plush- the exact reason you took to grasping a spare pillow, instead. If he woke up in your arms, your relationship would become a whole lot more awkward. Or romantic. You weren’t willing to risk finding out.

            With a forlorn look in your eye, you continued to watch as you passed dozens of planets. There was no escaping the feeling. You were hooked on it. Not even a piña colada could do the trick. The song references (courtesy of Star-Loser’s endless looping of the Awesome Mix Vol. 1.) made you think that hanging out with Peter for a while would be a good distraction; you stood once more and left for the flight deck.

            You found the Terran with his head leaned back in the captain’s chair, listening to the guitar riffs of the ending of Moonage Daydream. A pretty average sight nowadays, as it would take a while to get from one planet to the other.

            He turned his head slightly in acknowledgement, “(F/n).”

            “Quill.” You sat in the co-captain’s seat, “How’s life?”

            He looked thoughtful, “Life’s good. You?”

            You shrugged, “It’s… cool.”

            He raised a brow, turning to look at you, “Wanna tell me?”

            You looked back at him, Fooled Around And Fell In Love beginning, “What’s there to tell?”

            He crossed his arms, leaning against the chair again, “You got that look. I’ve seen it on enough girls to know. Mostly for me,” you sent him a glare and he bit the inside of his cheek. He continued, “What I’m tryin’ to say is, that’s the ‘why doesn’t he love me back’ look. Let me guess, Rocket?”

            Your (e/c) eyes widened and Peter smirked a little, “Yeah, okay. How long?”

            An anxious breath left your lips, “When Groot saved us.”

            He nodded, turning the music down a little, “You and me both, girl.”

            You offered a confused expression before you placed the pieces together, “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

            He grinned gently, “I won’t.”

            You both fell into a comfortable silence, looking at the twilight horizon. Its void emptiness was somehow still filled with stars and planets that went on forever. It was entrancing, a hypnotic sight. Time was nonexistent, until you realized you should be in bed. You bided Peter goodnight and he did the same, heading to his bunk and you to your room. When you got there, Rocket was already lying on his side of the bed. He was atop your sheets, mostly makeshift from leftover shirts. You preferred it that way, and since Rocket didn’t mind, you decided that you wouldn’t take the money out of your units account just for a blanket. He opened an eyes as you walked in but closed it soon after.

            “Hey, (F/n).” He said lowly.

            “Hi, Rocket. How are you?”

            He gave off an almost nervous vibe before replying, “I’m how I always am.”

            You tilted you head slightly before asking him politely to close his eyes as you changed. He complied and you were soon resting beside him, dressed in your normal sleepwear. The quietude of the room was filled with tension, but it wasn’t from you. Rocket fidgeted slightly. Before you could ask, he began to speak.

            “Building machines, weapons, mostly… It’s what I’m good at. But,” he paused, breathing in and out slowly through his nose, “I do it to distract myself.” His voice was lower, his eyes remained shut, “What they did to me never stopped hurtin’. The cybernetics,” he gritted his teeth, “they’re merciless. When I build somethin’, it helps me forget for a little while. That’s the answer you were lookin’ for.”

            Your eyes softened before saddening. You knew Rocket didn’t want your pity, your response was toned to seem casual, “Are you hurting now?”

            “I’m how I always am,” he repeated.

            Your heart began to hurt. You could only imagine what it was like to be put in his position. Not only did he appear freak-like to many at first glance, but he was constantly in pain. Emotional and physical. You reached your hand over to the fellow Guardian, petting him between the ears. He stiffened at the attention first, but melted after.

            “I know my words probably mean nothing to you,” you began, continuing to rub behind his ears, “but what I said before is true. I’ll always be here for you. If you ever want a different distraction, I’ll try my best to help.” You sighed, “I’m sorry, Rocket. No one should have to go what you’ve gone through. You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.”

            The raccoon-lookalike remained mute for a few minutes. You didn’t stop petting him and he didn’t make an attempt to stop you. When you looked over to his face, he seemed distant.

            He finally broke the silence, “You called me a person.”

            “Yeah,” you breathed, “what else would I call you?”

            “Freak. Rodent. Vermin. Subject 89P13.”

            “Rocket, you aren’t a freak. You know that.”

            He began to tremble slightly and you realized he was crying. You narrowed your eyes- Rocket never got sappy like this. He tried to straighten his back but yelped and returned to his original position. He wasn’t crying at your words, he was crying in agony.

            Your eyes widened in terror, “Rocket? What’s wrong?”

            “My… back,” he snarled. “Damn cybernetics again.” A loud breath escaped his lips, “I’m fine.”

            “Turn over,” you demanded, turning your light on and shutting your eyes as light flooded the room, “I want to make sure.”

            He didn’t move, “I said I’m fine, lie down.”

            “Rocket,” you dared in the most serious tone you could muster. The Guardian sighed and groaned as he turned over. He wore red cloth when he slept; you pulled open the back of his shirt to check his cybernetics. You looked closely at the circles in his back and saw that they were slightly red around the edges. It was probably from irritation, but you got up anyways.

            “Where’re ya goin’?” He asked, still lying on his stomach.

            “To get disinfectant. I don’t want you in anymore pain in case it’s somethin’ that gets worse.”

            You didn’t wait for his response as you headed to the main room in search of the first aid. Peter had to keep it in there somewhere. When you found it, you were relieved to discover that it had an entire bottle’s worth of disinfectant- not that you needed all of it. It was good to have around, however. You walked back to your room quickly and shut the door behind you quietly.

            “Got it,” you declared, smiling. Rocket had sat up since you’d left him and he smiled as you returned.

            “After this can I sleep? Been a long day.”

            You giggled quietly, “Every day putting up with Quill is a long day.”

            He laughed at your comment. You really were too hard on the guy, but it was pretty easy to make fun of him. Especially when he makes a fool of himself every two seconds.

            In the middle of his laughter he stopped, rubbing his upper back uncomfortably. You offered him a kind look and took out the gauze and liquid. You poured some onto the fabric before instructing Rocket to lie on his stomach again. With extremely gentle actions you pressed the solution to his back, padding around the main circles before running the gauze along the lines. He winced slightly and you padded instead of wiped; this calmed him down slightly and he let out a relaxed sigh. You threw the pad away and turned off the light before lying back down beside Rocket. He returned to his former position, as well.

            “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

            You smiled up at the ceiling, “You’re welcome.”

            You heard him shuffle beside you and his fur brushed your arm as he fitted himself against your (figure type) form. He lied his head against your chest, “I mean it, (F/n). Not only do ya actually give a shit about me, you treat me for me. Not what I look like. I-I respect that.”

            Your frozen body melted and you wrapped an arm around Rocket, closing your warm, (e/c) eyes, “I think you look perfect. Just the way you are.”

            You felt him smile before his breathing became a little more rhythmic. Just before he fell asleep, he muttered under his breath, “You’re almost as beautiful as my gun.”

            You shook with silent laughter, taking what he had said as a compliment. Slowly, you gravitated closer to his smaller figure. You placed a kiss on the top of his head, mouthing the words “I love you, too,” before joining him in the depths of sleep.

     

THERE FOR YOU
WILL RETURN