#starmora drabble

[disruptedvice]

"Well, hello there Mrs. Grumpy face," Peter smiles, trying to pull the covers away from her eyes, but Gamora's fingers scrunch onto them tight, refusing to release their hold.

"That's not my name," she mumbles, her voice still low and rough with sleep, contemplating if violence is worth it this early in the morning. She'd have to pull the blanket off her head to do anything more than wave him off, and that's a compromise she's not willing to make. 

[disruptedvice]

She’s aware that he probably won’t remember this. He’s injured, lying in a hospital bed, and drugged up on the best pain medications available. Still.

“Peter, if you ever do something like that again, I will end you, understand?” She asks him, her hands clasping his so tight as she threatens him as menacingly as possible.

“You’re cute when you’re all worried about my safety ‘n stuff,” he tells her with a dopey grin.

He is very lucky that Rocket is also in the room, reminding Gamora not to kill him, that he doesn’t know what he’s saying.

Very, very lucky.

[elisha-am]

Sounds

Long before the unspoken thing became a thing, there was already so much couldn’t be spoken if he wanted to avoid a knife at his throat. One of them, was that he would imagine what she sounded like between the sheet and tangled limbs in the middle of the night.

Would it be loud and fierce and unstoppable screams like how she fight? Would it be soft and sweet gasps like her gentle caring heart? Would it be strained throaty moans like the true emotions she tired so hard to hide? Maybe there would be some giggles she couldn’t help but let out added to the list of small proofs of how playful she actually was. Or would she simply say his name over and over like it meant everything? 

Whatever it was, he could be sure, it’d be the greatest song he had ever heard.