Starmora Week 2018
Day 6: Wedding

Wedding night

It was their wedding.

Wedding night, actually.

They were actually married now. He couldn't believe they did it.

Peter didn't think it would feel any different than when they were in a romantic relationship and living together the past three years, kicking names and taking ass, saving the galaxy while not being officially married.

But he was wrong. This was so much better.

"You're my wife," he murmured into their kiss, backing her up closer to their bed. They kinda hadn't taken their hands off of each other since they got back to their room (hadn't stopped kissing either).

"You keep saying that," Gamora smiled against his lips. She didn't know if she'd ever found anything more endearing than his whispered repetitions between every kiss.

In the span of two seconds she had reversed their positions, backing him up until his legs hit the bed, before giving him a single, one handed push to the chest that had him falling backwards and landing with an "oof".

Leaving him looking up at her in the dimmed lights of their bedroom, silhouetted with a soft glow, making her look like a deity,

That he'd worship any day of the week.

She was a truly imposing figure.

The tilted, layered skirt had traditional designs and patterns from her homeworld, and the cream wrap that hung at her hips and circled around her torso was also Zehoberi styled- and the sleeves of her shirt with the loose, spilling cuffs made every movement of her hands look fluid and by design.

One second he was standing, the next he was on his back with Gamora, the last of the Zehoberi standing over him.

The most dangerous woman in the galaxy.

One second he was standing, and the next he was on his back, with his wife standing over him, illuminated with an ethereal silhouette that made her look so, so beautiful (not that she needed any help with that).

Gamora climbed on top of him, and Peter reached out to her, dragging her back to him. He pulled her in for a kiss that she went with, indulgently, cause they had all the time in the world.

Gamora ran her hands up his chest and deepened the kiss. Which was so, so good.

Peter's hands gravitated towards her hips and he kissed along her jaw, down her throat, sucking and nipping here and there, making her hum as hands moved to the collar of his shirt.

Then, without warning, she just ripped his shirt. Completely, ripped it wide open.

"Woah, woah, woah!" He shouted in surprise. "What the hell are you doing?!"

Gamora gave him a look. "It's our wedding night, Peter. I thought we were having sex."

"So did I! What part of having sex involves destroying my very nice shirt?"

Gamora's eyes flashed with instant clarity. "Ah. I wondered why you insisted on buying such expensive clothes for yourself," she said, like he had just settled something she'd long been curious about, but he still had no idea what she was talking about.

"What?"

"I'm guessing it's not normal to destroy wedding clothes on earth then after all."

"Not that I know of, no," Peter responded, still processing exactly what that meant.

"I thought that was a fairly universal thing to do. You know, standard," Gamora shrugged like she didn't just ruin a very expensive, quality shirt that he was planning on keeping for next time they infiltrated a classy event on a mission or got invited to a swanky affair after saving the galaxy yet again (okay, they hadn't gotten a thanks for saving the world celebration yet, but here's hoping).

"And what exactly is that standard?" He asked, since she apparently didn't feel the need to elaborate on that.

"You're supposed to rip my clothes off. I'm supposed to rip off yours."

"So does that mean you don't want me to rip the rest of your clothes off?" Gamora asked, actually sounding disappointed. Apparently she had been really looking forward to that part of the ceremony. Ripping his clothes off. He had to admit, it sounded pretty hot.

"Well, you already destroyed the most expensive part of my outfit, so might as well," Peter shrugged, and Gamora's face positively lit up.

"Wait, are you wearing underwear?" She added like that was an afterthought.

"Are you not!?" Peter replied with just about the most incredulous face he had.

"Of course not! Because you're supposed to rip everything I'm wearing off my body!" Gamora laughed because yes, this was the man she chose to marry. This was her husband. She shook her head as she buried her face in her hands, still laughing.

"Really, Peter. Being Terran is no excuse for not having heard of the most common wedding thing in the galaxy," she said, even though he was pretty sure she was exaggerating (She learned that from him).

"Well, I've heard of it," he muttered defensively. He's heard of lots of wedding traditions around the galaxy. Like matching facial tattoos. Or ritual combat. He's sure he's heard of the clothes ripping thing along with the long list of weird wedding traditions to be found around the galaxy. "I just didn't know we were doing it," he pouted quite petulantly. Gamora thought he looked incredibly adorable at the moment.

"Sure," she teased, rolling her eyes. He apparently took offense at her light ribbing, though.

"I barely even know any wedding traditions from earth! All I have is the ring thing and a half remembered rhyme or two! This has nothing to do with me being from Terra! I left when I was 8, and my mom never got married, so it's not like I heard a lot of stories or whatever. The wedding tradition thing has nothing to with being Terran. You said it yourself. I've been in the galaxy a long time. Most of my life. I'm a nomad, Gamora! You have to tell me what traditions we're doing, cause I don't have any. I'm not from any place that has any tradition, cause I'm not from any place."

"You're at least happy you get to rip mine off, aren't you?" Gamora asked, reminding him of that part of the deal. Which yeah. He wasn't really thinking about that. And now that he was picturing literally ripping her clothes off with his bare hands, well, his mouth went a little dry.

Peter's whole face went blank for a second, and she almost wonders if she broke him.

Peter blinked, staring at her like he was staring off into space.

"Yeah," he croaked, licking his lips.

When he met her eye, she could see by the desire in his that she had reminded him of where they were before they got off track.

Before she could suggest getting them back on track, Peter threw his head back and let out a petulant and vacillating whine that emanated from the back of his throat.

"Aw, but you look so pretty in them!" Peter proclaimed in near distress at destroying what she was now wearing so well.

It was almost too cute for her to handle.

Gamora rolled her eyes with an unbridled fondness.

"Yes, and I got them specifically so you could tear them off my body tonight and only tonight. That's what wedding outfits are for. To be married in and then ravished in. For the first time in your life, I think you're not focusing on the sex enough in this situation," she almost giggled into her hand, and god, she wore happiness well.

He was so in love with her it was ridiculous. It was ridiculous that he actually got to spend the rest of his life with this woman.

Gamora helped him out of the shirt she ruined by ripping it some more, then finally tearing it off of him, which she obviously enjoyed far too much. Or just the right amount.

Peter growled and flipped them over, so that he had her lying under him. Gamora gave him the most inviting smile as she wrapped her hands around the back of his neck.

"You know, I was looking forward to this," she said, shimmying underneath him as his hands traveled down her very pretty clothes. Appreciating them before he ruined them.

"Yeah?" He asked, fiddling with the waistband of her skirt. Getting a feel for it, exactly how much force he'd need to…

Gamora smiled up at him.

"Yeah."