Guardians of The Galaxy X Reader Imagines

Rocket (Platonic)

Pairings: Rocket x Reader (Platonic)
Warnings: Fluff, if that scares you D:
Word Count: 4034
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(First Person POV)

I had the great idea of suggesting that Rocket and I just stayed in for once. We hadn't enough units for him to go mental on the alcohol at a bar, and I didn't have the energy to put up with and finish his fights when he was hammered. He was against it at first since it was just the two of us and no one else for him to bug the shit out of.

Once I convinced him, we spent about an hour going back and forth on what to do, neither of hs agreeing. Rocket clicked his fingers together, obviously coming up with an idea. Of course, he picked his favourite pass time. "We're makin' bombs!" I shake my head, hand on my temple as I sigh.

There is a small smile on my face because as much as I hated cleaning up the clutter of spare parts, I loved building bombs with Rocket. Most times, I'd just sit on the sidelines watching him make them as I modified our weapons, making them better or easier to work with.

"Alright. Bombs it is." I point the finger, a playful seriousness on my face. "You are helping me clean up for once. I'm so done cleaning up for like three hours for tiny scraps." He held his hands above his head, a smirk on his face. "'Course! What do you take me for?"

I place my hand on my hip, popping it out to the side. I throw him a knowing look. "A lazy asshat who doesn't stick to his word when it comes to normal ass tasks." He seems genuinely hurt, but the smirk came crawling back onto his face. "I promise I'll help you this time." I hum sarcastically and turn away to get the normal gear we use for modifications and bombs manufacturing.

I place down the tools and boxes of spare parts Rocket would need before I grab his box of unfinished bombs. He throws me a questioning look. "You gotta finish these, then make use of them. You have another four boxes piled high of unfinished bombs down in the little hidden compartment." He sighs, dragging the box over to him.

I smile at him, "Thank you." He mumbles a response, but I didn't catch it. I walk back to the little hidden compartment to grab my own small box of parts for my weapons, smiling as I can already see the idea come to life.

I stride over to Rocket and place my box down before quickly going into my room (which was practically shared with Rocket since he slept.in his seat almost every damn day) and grabbing all my gear, grinning ear to ear as more ideas fill my mind. I make my way back to Rocket and sit down on the ground across from him, crossing my legs and rummaging through my box of parts.

We both worked in silence, enjoying the peacefulness of the atmosphere. But then I had another idea. "Hey, Rocket. How d'you feel about some tunes?" He looks up for a second, "Tunes are fine. As long as you play that one really cool Queen song I like." And goes back to bomb.

I smile, knowing what he meant as I stand up and grab my walkman from my chair at the cockpit. I searched for the cassette tape I got made for me and Rocket, a very special one.

I find it, a small smile on my face as I read over the name Rocket made for it. 'Rocket & (Y/n)'s jam out session' his writing being nearly unreadable, but I knew what it said from memory of him saying aloud as he wrote it. I pop it into the walkman as I find myself back on the floor, hitting play at the side.

At Rocket's request, my favourite Queen song, which I made him end up loving just as much, starts playing. 'Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy'. It's such a great song, if I do say myself without sounding biased. Almost immediately, Rocket started humming along to the beat, as did I.

Now, the silence was filled with the soft sounds of Queen and other songs from my favourite bands that I heard from my time on Terra. We sat doing our thing for a few hours, the sun had started rising for the planet we were on. I felt the hot rays of sun on my back, and I turned around, smiling at the gorgeous star in front of me.