Can I request Starmora 020-you look incredible in that?
20. “You look incredible in that.”
i wasn’t sure where to go with this one for a while tbh, but then i kept thinking about “what’s gonna happen to the gotg after they defeat thanos in infinity war???? what will gamora feel like????” and 1st of all are they even gonna defeat thanos in infinity war lmao, 2nd of all yeah this is the product of that line of thought ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
The battle with Thanos left everyone in all sorts of
emotional states, per usual with the team after big battles (Ego,
unfortunately, comes to mind—must be something with evil dads), but the fact that they’d emerged victorious in defeating Thanos usually anchored everyone whenever
things got too uncomfy. Well, for Peter, at least. Gamora’s a bit of a
On the one hand she’s happy, like, crazy happy, in a way Peter’s never seen before. She’s not one to
be over-the-top with anything, of course, but it’s the little things he
notices, like how much more she smiles
whenever they meet eyes in any setting, or the way she holds his hand and can’t
slow down her pace for him, just leading him excitedly on walks around the
Avengers’ base. She also spends a lot more time with Nebula, talking with her
over this and that, their conversations straying further and further away from
Thanos and what he’d done to both of them.
Honestly, Gamora sounds like someone whose life was just
extended, like, fifty years, which is cool, but also depresses him, in a way.
Because, on the other hand, she occasionally zones out,
staring off into space until he jostles her, or she’ll wake up in the middle of
the night thinking they’ve yet to actually fight Thanos, and she’s back to
square one. Sometimes she even has these, like, existential crises, questioning
what the hell she’s supposed to do with her life now, after so much of it was consumed
by Thanos; the last time she’d felt this free, she once told him, she’d been a child.
Peter does his best to stick by her through it all, though,
because she’s done the same for him for years now, after he’s gotten caught up
in traumatic events, because she loves him and he loves her and emotional
intimacy and support is just their thing.
Gradually, Gamora’s getting better, mellowing out from her
intense emotions, and Peter’s just happy to be there for her.
And, apparently, the Avengers like to celebrate in style—Stark’s words—by throwing wild
parties after big victories. (Which is, like, cool and all, but how do they all
manage to get over the emotional scarring so quickly? He’ll have to ask around at the party.)
It’s to be held at the Avengers’ Tower in New York City, and
it takes Peter some convincing, because his team isn’t all that great at being
“I don’t wanna party it up with any humies,” Rocket had
grumbled when Peter announced their invitation. “Their alc sucks. It’s weak as shit.”
“I am Groot.”
“Tha’s right, Groot, they also think we’re all a bunch’a freaks, so they’ll just stare the whole
time.” Rocket crossed his arms. “Count us out.”
“If one of them bothers me—“
“No, you may not remove their spine, Drax,” Peter cut in.
“Then I will not attend, either.”
“Neither will I,” Mantis chimed in. “I am too ugly.”
“Mantis, you’re not ugly,” Gamora reminded.
“I hate Terrans,” Nebula said simply, crossing her arms over
her chest and giving Peter a pointed look.
“I just don’t want to go,” Kraglin said with a shrug. “Got
better alcohol on the ship.”
That conversation transpired the day before and, honestly,
Peter’s okay with literally none of
them attending, because that greatly decreases the chances of anything exploding or anyone dying, but since he’s the team leader and
Terran, well, he’s gotta go to represent. Thankfully, Gamora’s attending with
“As my date,” he’d
“You just asked me to marry you not that long ago.”
Now they’re getting ready, Peter standing in front of their
mirror to adjust his collar as Gamora changes behind him.
“Okay, if the Avengers’ party turns out to be lame, I think
we should go back to the ship with the others and hang out there,” he suggests
absentmindedly. “What do you think?”
“I think that’s a good backup plan,” she comments, pulling
on the dress she’d borrowed from Natasha Romanoff, who’s become something of a
friend to Gamora recently, from what Peter’s witnessed.
As he finishes adjusting his suit, he turns around to face
Gamora, who’s looking down at her dress. It’s simple and black—much like the
rest of her wardrobe, he makes a mental note to tease her—but fits nicely, the
skirt falling loosely just above her knees. She then turns her eyes up to him.
“I think,” he closes the distance between them, taking her
hands in his, “you look incredible in that.”
“Thank you.” She smiles briefly, then looks at him
expectantly. “Anything else?”
He gives a tiny grin. “You really like the color black, don’t you?”
She rolls her eyes (affectionately). “I expected nothing
Flirting through teasing is one of several pillars in their relationship, honestly. Despite the warmth in her expression, though, he can sense something’s still off, in the way she’s holding herself and looking at him with a somewhat tight smile.
“You still sure about going to this thing?” he asks, leading
her over to sit down on the bed with him. Neither of them had gotten much sleep
the night before, after nightmares led to some intense heart-to-heart
conversations, which left them too restless to sleep. “I mean, I’m
sure it’ll be fun, but…”
“We don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” she says simply.
“But do you want
She shrugs. “I’m indifferent.”
It’s just weird,
in a way. They’re about to attend a party to celebrate the death of her evil
adoptive father, hosted and attended by a bunch of people who didn’t actually know him, really, until he started
threatening Earth, while Gamora had to deal with him personally for years.
He presses his shoulder against hers. “Is there another way you’d
She rests her head against his shoulder, looking down at
their connected hands. “I’m not even sure I want
to celebrate. Maybe just…move on with my life. With you and the others. Put him
“That’s valid,” he says, his thumb rubbing the back of her
hand. “Maybe we should skip out on tonight, then.”
“We already got dressed and everything.”
“Then we’ll have our own private party!” As he starts to
move, she lifts her head from his shoulder. He stands up, looking down at her. “I
probably have better music than they do, anyway.”
“Won’t they notice if we don’t show up?”
“Eh, whatever.” As she stands up, he pulls his Zune out of
his pocket, letting go of her hand so he can untangle the earbuds. When he’s
done, he holds one of them out for her to take. “May I have this dance?”
She looks between him and his hand for a few moments,
seemingly unsure over ditching the Avengers, but he catches the way her
shoulders relax and her eyes soften, clear of the anxiety of having to attend a
party all about Thanos (even if it’s for his death). Then she smiles, taking the earbud and putting it in her
left ear. He does the same with his right as she steps closer to him.
He settles on “Open Arms” by Journey because sure, why not,
and hands the Zune to Gamora to hold as she drapes her arms around his neck.
His hands settle on her hips and they sway with the music.
This is comfortable, familiar. And probably way more fun
than that Avengers party, anyway, because Thanos may fade from their minds
tomorrow or the day after, but for Gamora (and, by extension, Peter), he made
up too big of a part of her life to ever really completely fade away, and that’s
okay, it’s not her fault.
By the time they’re at the second verse, they’re basically
just hugging, really, still swaying slowly with the song, and Peter rests the
side of his head against hers, closing his eyes.
“Thank you, Peter,” she murmurs softly, and he holds her
more tightly in response.