So... This is my first GotG fic. Ever. Hope it isn't too bad, you guys.. God knows if I had rights to Gotg, Gamora and Peter would have kissed. Multiple times.


There had always been something mesmerizing about the sight of low-hanging strobe lights flashing in various arrays of colors and shape sequences, highlighting the gyrating bodies of those on the floor. Some would call it dancing while others, however, would call it dry-humping considering how close the flushed bodies were. It was boisterous and the man found the sound peculiarly comforting as reaches for his glass on the counter, taking a long swig.

The team, who were mainly focused on the deal they were making the next day, were more than slightly agitated by his stop at a nearby club. "Bunch of fun-sucking bastards," he murmurs to himself as he gazes around, his cerulean eyes landing on a fuchsia-colored woman who was sauntering his way. "Well, hello there." He whistles to himself as she leans across the counter to order a drink, her raven hair just about smacking him in the face as she shifts her head to face him.

"See something you like?" Dark magenta lips quirk into an amused smile, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

His dark blond head nods almost instantaneously before clearing his throat and straightening his posture within his stool. "Uh, I mean.. Ya' come here often or..?" She gives him a strange look, and he took a moment to process the woman before him. Medium-height, slim build, and-Well, points for being slow. High-five. "Oh."

Thin, alabaster leather covered her ample chest just barely with the thin material, fastening in the back with a simple zipper. Her dainty hands were covered in lengthy gloves that reached just beneath her elbows, stark white with midnight zig-zags along them. Her lower half, however, was covered by a matching alabaster, leather skirt that reached just above mid-thigh, while her knee-high boots were onyx, much like her hair. No wonder she was staring at him like that, her thin brows furrowed and her eyes slanted.

"Of course ya' do, you work here." Smooth, Peter, smooth.

She didn't seemed deterred in the least as she retrieves the berry from the glass slid to her by the bartender, holding the tiny fruit by its stem while she wraps her lips around it. Her dark eyes glance at him, full of mirth, as she finally separates the fruit from its stem, tossing it on the counter. "I know who you are, I heard people talking about you."

"So you've heard of me, huh? All heroic, savin' the galaxy and shit? One of my many talents," Cue the cocky smile that twitches upon his lips, eyebrows wiggling suggestively, making the latter giggle.

"Star-Kid, right?"

Was his name really that hard to remember? He heaves a sigh and looks rather defeated, "Star-Lord." He corrects with a murmur, proceeding to pout like a child. He jumps abruptly at the feel of a hand squeezing his shoulder, "Hey! Don't damage the merchandise," He turns his head and finds himself face-to-face with a bulky, towering man whose shoulders were hunched inwards toward him. "Oh, c'mon."

"Why are ya' talkin' to ma' girl?" Billows the man as he presses into Peter's space, pushing him out of the stool.

"Hey, hey. To be fair, she talked to me first." Tanned hands were raised defensively before him, not desiring any trouble considering this was supposed to be one of their 'relaxation' days. "Back up, Wookie."

Regardless of the warning, the man charged him nonetheless and punched him square in the jaw with Peter murmuring something about 'right in the money-maker.' Peter made a move to retrieve his guns but was instead picked up and slammed against the bar counter, while the curious looking Krylorian and bartender watched in awe. A tanned hand reached for his glass and broke it along the side of the man's head, kicking him in the chest until he staggered backwards. Another sigh escaped the man as he glanced up at the bartender casually standing behind the counter, quirking a brow at him.

"What the hell are you lookin' at?" He utters with a pout before he's grabbed by his leather jacket, towed to his feet. "Not cool, man, not cool."

Suddenly an emerald arm comes into view, a knife poised within her grip as it presses against the man's neck. "Let him go. Now." Comes her low, demanding voice as she presses the steel deeper into the mans neck, "or it will be the last thing you do." The hand that had been previously poised to punch Peter had instead leveled off with his other one, raised defensively before him. "Turn around, slowly." She orders in only the way that Gamora can, taking a single step back to allow space between them. "Walk away. Now."

Despite the bizarre height difference, the man obliges nonetheless with a huff. He spared a glance back at the Krylorian and Peter, offering the latter a fierce glare, followed by the cracking of his knuckles as if promising that it wasn't over. Gamora crosses her lithe arms across her chest as she scowls the man before her who only shrugs his shoulders halfheartedly.

"Now, c'mon, you gotta admit-that guy was kind of a dick." Peter states with a tense chuckle, not daring to meet the latter's gaze.

"How did I manage to get stuck babysitting the biggest idiot in the gala-"

Her movements were swift as she shifted mid-sentence to deflect the knife being thrust towards her, instead capturing the bulky man's hand within her own and breaking it with a deafening 'crack!' Howls of pain surged from the man's rancid mouth, pleading for her to release him. Instead she twists his wrist and proceeds to deliver a roundhouse kick to his chest, effectively sending him toppling over a table covered in glasses of toxic green looking liquid.

After tilting her neck from one side to the other, hearing the soft sounds of it cracking, she glances at him. "Contain your pelvic sorcery for once, Quill." And she's scolding him as if he's a child, and he can't help but to admit that he was strangely aroused by her outburst.

"Not gonna lie, I might have wet my pants just then." Peter stated with a look of seriousness on his face as he straightens his stance, righting his leather jacket on his form.

"Disgusting." Came her response as she tucked her knife away once more, coining him a scowl, as she turns on her heel to walk away.

Cerulean eyes found themselves roaming down her form to stare at her ass, whistling at the sight. Gamora and leather were definitely two of his favorite things, though he much preferred them when they were together. God, he liked watching her body shift from side to side as she saunters away from him, the leather tight in all the right places.

"I'd like to cut that cake." He muses to himself, leaning his elbows back against the counter.

"I do not understand. There is no cake to cut," Confused as ever, Drax tilts his head slightly as he queries the latter who is more than a little distracted by the sight of Gamora's twitching backside.

It didn't occur to him in the slightest that the man had been nowhere to be found when he was in that little altercation; he just seemed to pop up after the fact, smelling faintly of alcohol.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. S'just a metaphor. Don't worry about it." He dismisses any further words with a flick of his hand in favor of pressing himself off the counter to follow the woman whose hips were practically calling to him.

Pushing through the throng of bodies posed more difficulty than he had originally thought, considering the random hands grabbing at his body, and the scent of musk billowing all around him. He halfheartedly excused himself as he bumped into a couple furiously making out on the dance floor, his nose crinkling in disdain, as he continues his trek towards the neon exit sign.

Once outside, the man inhales deeply. It's a delightful change from the rancid odors emanating from within the doors that slam close upon his exit. So many stars filled the sky, not a single cloud in sight. He finds himself lulled by the silence that the nighttime air provides him, the hypnotic techno beat from within the club had only given him a headache, and he hadn't felt like dancing on the floor like he was having a seizure, so..

"Shit," he murmurs as he glances back and forth within the darkness, a street light flickering on and off a few feet away from him.

One of his fingers presses a button, his mask inching it's way across his face. Night vision was a decent touch on the old contraption, the man muses as he strolls along the right side of the bar into the darkness of shadows. He walks along the outer walls of the establishment until he approaches a form with their arms crossed casually leaning against it. Even through the lenses he could tell she was pissed, absolutely pissed considering the way she doesn't even shift her face in the direction of his footfalls.

"What do you want, Quill?" Comes her voice as she stares straight ahead into the darkness.

"You kinda just stormed outta there like a bat out of hell. Just wanted to check on you, jeez." He mimics her posture, leaving a small space between them. An angry Gamora was not someone you wanted to mess with.

Cue the scoff. "I just needed some fresh air. What are you? My keeper?"

"Touchy, touchy." Peter releases a soft sigh, his shoulders hunching inwards. "I mean, I totally get why you got out of there so quick-"

"Please stop talking-"

"I don't blame you-"

"You're still talking-"

"Being jealous and all."

A low growl emanates from within her slender form, and her body straightens on its own accord. Her hands go to her hips, where a holster was swinging loosely, to directly face the man before her. "What would I have to be jealous over, Quill?"

"You being defensive just proves my point. S'okay. Being a hero is a turn on for the ladies." Confidence had always been his best friend because confidence got you places; just check out the list of woman he's bedded.

"Right. Getting beat up and then saved by me definitely impressed that Krylorian. I'm sure." Dark eyes stare into cerulean ones for a considerate moment, her arms crossing over her chest once more.

"But that wasn't even the point. Point was that tonight was gonna be the night that I was gonna get you to dance. Walking around like there's a stick up your ass is a little off-putting, and you punch me sometimes." He murmurs as he absently rubs over his upper arm where a yellow-ish bruise was just now fading from making a crude joke to the green-skinned woman.

"I don't dance. And I do not have a stick up my ass, otherwise I would feel it." Her nose points in the air as she speaks, her hip jutting out slightly. "I don't have time for your banter, regardless, we have a mission to complete."

The groan that spews from his lip is laced with frustration as he grabs at his hair, tugging at the strands of his scalp. He buries his face in his hands for a moment, rubbing them against his face, before fluidly grabbing her by the shoulders and pressing her back against the hard bricks. For a moment he doesn't breathe a word, frightened by the thought of her dismembering him limb from limb and shuddering involuntarily.

"Hey, you're jealous. Don't pretend you're not," Hands reach for her wrists and pin them above her head. "If you really wanted me all to yourself, ya' could have just said so. Being stubborn and walking around with that ten-inch pole up your ass isn't the way to go about doing it." An angry Gamora was an incredibly sexy Gamora. "When you finally decide to kill me, could ya' do me a solid and not break my face too bad? Cuz I've seen you smash in someone's face before and-"

Silence was a virtue, or so she had heard once upon a time. All she had desired was a little silence to surround herself with, but the idiot followed her like a lost puppy. Being one to be calculative, she hadn't thought about the potential consequences about shushing the man with her lips. But she couldn't deny the sensations of her lips pressing against his warm, receptive ones. He had uttered a startled yelp at first but now he had relaxed ever so slightly and allowed himself to tentatively return the kiss, scared that she would retreat and finish that bulky mans efforts.

Soft sighs echoed from the man, vibrating within the woman's mouth as she presses more insistently into the kiss, her hands awkwardly by her side. Still slightly agitated, she sunk her ivory teeth into the latter's lower lip, reveling in the hiss that echoes from him, followed by him closing the space between them to press their bodies flush. The faint taste of metallic resonates against her pallet as she earnestly sucks at his lower lip, tugging it between her teeth before finally pushing him away.

"Peter Quill, the great Star-Lord, speechless." There's a hint of amusement within her voice as she brushes past him, shoulders bumping together.

"Oh, c'mon. That wasn't fair! You really gonna leave me here with a bad case of blue balls?" Another groan echoes from the man as he glances down towards his groin, "You had one job, buddy, one job."


This is probably hella ooc, I know. I'm just trying to practice my Gamora and Peter voice for future fics. 3 Constructive criticism, please?