New Romantics
Nov. 8th, 2014 01:13 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nrgburstFandom: Guardians of the Galaxy (MCU)
Title: New Romantics
Characters: Gamora/Peter Quill (Starlord)
Word Count: just under 500
Rating/Warnings: T
Summary: Because pelvic sorcery might actually exist. But she's almost certain it's merely biochemistry. (Gamora-centric)
'Cause baby I could build a castle/ Out of all the bricks they threw at me/ And every day is like a battle/ And every night with us is like a dream
Gamora doesn’t really believe in sorcery, even if the way he’s making her feel is alarmingly irresistible. And she’s enjoying the way their bodies press together as if magnetically charged, exploring the warmth of his skin and the taste of his mouth- male with a hint of the brew he’d been drinking. She’s had a couple drinks as well, but she’s clearheaded: she recognizes that pheromones and instinct are behind the building urgency; the surge of hormones making her heart beat faster and her genitals ache in anticipation. He’s put on music- half cliché seduction tool and half because he’s Peter and he can’t move through life without his Terran soundtrack. She actually likes the melodies- besides, they’ll cover the sound of their coupling when their friends return to the Milano. And she’s sure she wants this- wants him despite all the reasons not to.
Resisting was conditioned reflex: Thanos had taught his daughters that attachments bring pain; that his dominion was the only true constant. Those brutal lessons had been drilled into them time and again- even her sisters were not allies, but merciless competition. But she was the first to resolve and plan her way past the fear to defy him. Years of obedience, of spilling the blood of others to preserve her own, and she’d finally come to realize that his powers were limited- why else would he need to trade for favors from one such as Ronan? The galaxy is vast, his reach and attention limited, and he no longer leaves Sanctuary. But she still freezes for an instant. She’d spent too much of her life as a thrall not to wonder if this will ultimately bring more pain than pleasure. A sexual relationship will only reinforce the connection she feels and he's both reckless and mortal.
Peter pulls back to study the look in her eyes as soon as he feels her still. Gamora spooks easily and there’s more at stake here than a quick lay --for both of them. “Wanna stop?” he asks, panting.
She smiles and shakes her head slightly. She trusts him with her life- trusting him with her body is a small step to take, especially considering how much that body is clamoring for the same thing. And she’s determined to live now that she’s free, not merely survive. So she reaches down and efficiently unbuckles and removes his belt, casting it aside. “You’ve promised me pleasure and I’m holding you to it.”
He grins, his earnest eagerness charming her more than that rakish look in his eye. “Well, I’d hate to go back on a bargain. Got the bearing of an honorable man and all.”
That makes her snort with laughter and she tugs him down onto the bed with her, inhibitions forgotten. He’s not particularly eloquent or clever and he exasperates her every single day. But he makes her laugh, which she supposes is a kind of magic after all.
Title: New Romantics
Characters: Gamora/Peter Quill (Starlord)
Word Count: just under 500
Rating/Warnings: T
Summary: Because pelvic sorcery might actually exist. But she's almost certain it's merely biochemistry. (Gamora-centric)
'Cause baby I could build a castle/ Out of all the bricks they threw at me/ And every day is like a battle/ And every night with us is like a dream
Gamora doesn’t really believe in sorcery, even if the way he’s making her feel is alarmingly irresistible. And she’s enjoying the way their bodies press together as if magnetically charged, exploring the warmth of his skin and the taste of his mouth- male with a hint of the brew he’d been drinking. She’s had a couple drinks as well, but she’s clearheaded: she recognizes that pheromones and instinct are behind the building urgency; the surge of hormones making her heart beat faster and her genitals ache in anticipation. He’s put on music- half cliché seduction tool and half because he’s Peter and he can’t move through life without his Terran soundtrack. She actually likes the melodies- besides, they’ll cover the sound of their coupling when their friends return to the Milano. And she’s sure she wants this- wants him despite all the reasons not to.
Resisting was conditioned reflex: Thanos had taught his daughters that attachments bring pain; that his dominion was the only true constant. Those brutal lessons had been drilled into them time and again- even her sisters were not allies, but merciless competition. But she was the first to resolve and plan her way past the fear to defy him. Years of obedience, of spilling the blood of others to preserve her own, and she’d finally come to realize that his powers were limited- why else would he need to trade for favors from one such as Ronan? The galaxy is vast, his reach and attention limited, and he no longer leaves Sanctuary. But she still freezes for an instant. She’d spent too much of her life as a thrall not to wonder if this will ultimately bring more pain than pleasure. A sexual relationship will only reinforce the connection she feels and he's both reckless and mortal.
Peter pulls back to study the look in her eyes as soon as he feels her still. Gamora spooks easily and there’s more at stake here than a quick lay --for both of them. “Wanna stop?” he asks, panting.
She smiles and shakes her head slightly. She trusts him with her life- trusting him with her body is a small step to take, especially considering how much that body is clamoring for the same thing. And she’s determined to live now that she’s free, not merely survive. So she reaches down and efficiently unbuckles and removes his belt, casting it aside. “You’ve promised me pleasure and I’m holding you to it.”
He grins, his earnest eagerness charming her more than that rakish look in his eye. “Well, I’d hate to go back on a bargain. Got the bearing of an honorable man and all.”
That makes her snort with laughter and she tugs him down onto the bed with her, inhibitions forgotten. He’s not particularly eloquent or clever and he exasperates her every single day. But he makes her laugh, which she supposes is a kind of magic after all.
