groot pls

Fearsome Trash Panda

In A Galaxy Not Quite Far Away: Part One | Part Two

Paring: Rocket Racoon & Reader

Tags: gender neutral reader, neutral pronouns, angst, fluff.

Summary:  Three times you and Rocket Racoon get on each other’s nerves.

Word Count: 1,867

Posting Date:  2017-05-09

Current Date: 2017-06-18


Originally posted by tinylamp


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anonymous asked:

101. for starmora pls!!

101. “They grow up so fast.”

when your life is so out of control that you’re posting the next ficlet at 3 am again lmao so sorry guys,,, anyway, enjoy some starmora parenting reflections while they do the dishes!! (bc I’m a slut for domestic shit asfglknf)

send me a ship + a number!!!!

We are Groot.”

Peter actually drops the plate he’s washing when he hears the words, the dish making a loud klank as it hits the bottom of the sink. The water continues running over Peter’s soap-covered hands, but he’s too busy staring wide-eyed at Groot, who’s standing on the other side of the table, to take notice.

He briefly glances at Gamora, who was collecting the rest of the dishes, but has also stopped and opted to instead stare at Groot. He’s just calmly looking at the two of them with his gentle smile, handing Gamora his and Rocket’s plates.

“You…remember that still?” Peter questions because, honestly, he’s never really understood how Groot’s memory worked. Sometimes, it was apparent that he still remembered everything from his life before the battle with Ronan, but most times, Groot acted like the age he physically appeared to be. “You can still say that?”

But now, nearly three years later, Groot’s practically back to his full size.

Groot nods. “I am Groot.”

“Teamwork is good, yeah,” Peter says. “Not sure if the teamwork required for doing the dishes is worth an epic ‘we are Groot,’ though.”

“Thank you for your help, Groot,” Gamora says softly, taking the dishes from Groot’s hands. “Peter and I have the rest of it handled. You can go.”

“I am Groot,” he says, bidding them farewell with a wave—Peter and Gamora both wave back, per usual, because some things just never change, no matter how much time passes—before leaving the room completely.

Gamora brings the plates up to the counter beside the sink and Peter sighs, shaking his head as he picks up the plate and resumes scrubbing it. “Well, that was interesting.”

“I knew he remembered the battle and what happened to him,” Gamora says, switching to Peter’s other side and picking up the dishrag. “But that was the only other time he said ‘we’…”

“Glad to know I’m not the only one who was a little caught off guard there,” Peter says lightly, passing the clean plate to Gamora to dry. “I guess I just…kinda blocked that memory out, while Groot was little.”

“I did, too,” she admits, running the towel over the plate. “All it seemed to do was give Groot nightmares.”

There had been a good handful of nights in which Peter had awoken to rushed, tiny footsteps accompanied by a flurry of knocks on his door. He’d then open the door to reveal an upset Groot, small tears running down his bark as he babbled about bad dreams where he or members of the team got hurt.

(Peter can even recall an entire week straight spent with Groot nestled between him and Gamora in the captain’s quarters, because of a recurring dream about Ronan where Groot couldn’t save everyone in time.)

“At least he seems to have grown out of it,” Peter says, absentmindedly continuing to clean. “Well. He seems to have just fully grown up, at this point.”

He sees Gamora nod in his peripheral vision, but as she starts putting the dishes away, her actions slow. She eventually turns her eyes up to his. “Does it feel strange to you at all?”

“Strange?” he echoes, handing her a fork. “I mean, I guess it’s weird, because it feels like it went by really fast.”

“Sometimes, I almost wish he was small again,” she admits, drying the fork. “I mean, it’s impractical for the team, as well as his own safety, but…” she trails off, pausing her drying completely. “It was nice, in a way.”

“It definitely really enforced the idea of us being a big family,” he says, glancing at her. “It brought out the best in everyone, in a way, because we all had to watch out for the little guy.”

She laughs softly. “It felt like we were parents.”

“It still feels like we’re parents,” he corrects, shaking his head in exasperation, because he’s certain he’ll have to scold someone at some point during the rest of the day for doing something stupid. “They grow up so fast.”

They finish the rest of the dishes off in a contemplative, comfortable silence. Peter really hasn’t thought much about Groot growing up until now. He calls upon personal familial experience for some sort of reference to what he’s feeling now: with Yondu, things had been complicated until the very end, though Yondu never stopped looking over him, even from a distance, when Peter had finally left; with Peter’s actual mother, well, she’d never even gotten the chance to see him grow up.

He helps Gamora put the last of the dishes away. She watches him stretch his arms up to the highest shelf in the cabinet, handing him the last of the plates, when she opens the discussion again. “Have you ever thought about parenthood?”

The question catches him by nearly as much surprise as Groot’s remark earlier. Peter narrowly avoids knocking down what dishes are already in the cabinet down, onto his head, before turning to look at Gamora with a nervous flutter in his chest. “Um…not much, to be honest…”

That is, he really hadn’t thought about it, until Gamora had danced her way into his life and he found himself looking after little Groot with her.

“I think the real question here is,” he continues, regaining some confidence, “now that we’ve actually dipped our toes into the ocean of parenthood, did we each like it enough to ever do it again, but more traditionally?”

She ducks her head to hide her smile at that, but Peter can still see the corners of her lips pointing upward. “I suppose that is, indeed, the real question.”

“Before the Guardians, my answer would’ve been a hard no,” he admits. “But now, after I’ve had to coax a baby tree to sleep more times than I’d like to count…” He shrugs. “I dunno. Doesn’t sound as impossible or really out there, y’know?”

“Yeah,” she murmurs, meeting his eyes.

“What about you, babe?” he asks, closing up the cabinet. “Have you ever thought about it?”

Gamora holds her arms out on either side of her, looking more unsure than Peter’s seen in a long time. She takes a few steps away from him, as if the idea is too large to be contained in an intimate conversation between the two of them. She turns back to look at him. “As a child, I wanted nothing more than to excel at everything, be this warrior. But when I was forced down that path, in a way I hadn’t anticipated or wanted, and everything changed, I lost sight of myself and my goals.”

Peter nods along to her words. They’ve both been significantly more open with each other in the past year or two about their pasts, especially their childhoods—both before and after their worlds were both turned upside down by the untimely deaths of their parents—and aspirations.

Her hands fall back down to her sides. “I suppose…things like parenthood are, as you said, no longer out of reach.”

He smiles then, coming closer to her and taking her hands in his. “There’s no rush.”

“No rush,” she agrees. “We still have many adventures to go on, Star-Lord.”

She leans up toward him then, placing a quick kiss on his lips, as if to seal their bounded fate.

Maybe they’ll find themselves on a path similar to the experience of raising Groot someday, or maybe not. There’s still time, and, as Gamora said, they have much to do. After all, Thanos is still out there, and Peter knows that until that’s dealt with, Gamora can never truly, completely relax as the rest of them can.

A crash from another room interrupts their silent moment, followed by Drax and Rocket arguing. Mantis is laughing. Groot chimes in with an “I am Groot.”

Peter and Gamora sigh, simultaneously.

“Shall we go check on the kiddos?” he teases.

“Better do it now than when Rocket accidentally blows up the ship,” she jokes back.

They leave the kitchen, hand-in-hand.


send me a ship + one of these prompts about said ship having to share a bed!!!