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Note: Many thanks to my coven sister PartTimeBunny for her help with this chapter. Jasper’s take on Mark’s outfit choice was her idea.
All characters are over 18 years of age.
* * * * *
The morning of their wedding day is rousingly moody and overcast. Jenni slept over at Evie’s, kind of their take on a hen party. After all, she can’t drink and has Mark and Freddy, so a male stripper would most likely be met with a blank look. She’s a plain girl who, through some quirk of fate, happens to be up to her neck in male pulchritude. She and Evie stayed up late with mud treatments on their faces and in their hair watching The Shape of Water… again. The amphibian man can turn them on because their men don’t have bioluminescence or webbed hands.
It’s time to get ready. She painfully dry brushes her skin for ten minutes or so and then takes an ice-cold shower for firm, even skin like Marilyn Monroe used to do to look her best. Well, she used to submerge in ice baths, but Jenni doubts baby Lu would appreciate that.
Now it’s time for her dress. Jenni and Evie had designed it together and Evie somehow found time to sew it. Jenni learned she used to be a costume designer for the theater before she got more and more into the world of body modification and made that her career late in life.
Jenni had felt silly at the idea of wearing white when she’s almost comically pregnant and has a filmography to contradict any pretense of virginity. Besides, she loves color and a white gown seemed like a missed opportunity. When they’d gone to the fabric store, Evie asked her what color they were looking for.
“Not white. Not black! Something else.”
“Yeah, that’s really helpful. What is Mark’s favorite color?”
“He’s a painter. I don’t think he’s allowed a favorite color. He does like me in pink, though.”
“‘Isn’t she… pretty in pink…'” Evie sang in a deep voice as they walked the aisles. “Okay, but a grown-up pink. Not a kid pink for your wedding day.”
Evie chooses a satin she calls “frosty rose” and holds it below Jenni’s face. “This will be perfect.”
The pattern is without embellishments because there just isn’t time to make anything too complex. It was certainly tricky, though, to construct a mermaid-style gown for Jenni’s constantly rounding body. Without extra ruffles and spangles, it would be obvious if the dress didn’t fall right on her shape. Evie, however, is a woman with a knack for whatever she sets her mind to make and has clever, cooperative fingers.
Jenni tries it on, praying it still fits. The strapless dress is the opposite of what most people would have advised; it emphasizes her big belly and short legs. It doesn’t flatter but shows how she truly looks.
“You look wonderful,” Evie appraises. “We did well.” With great familiarity, she tucks two pads into the girl’s bust to absorb the leaking colostrum. “There. You have great tits!”
“Thank you! Thank you, Evie! This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me!”
“Well, we know that’s not true. Lucien giving you to Mark was pretty nice.”
“That’s true. Do you think Tom will come?”
“If he can, he will. He wants to, but has good days and bad.”
“Of course he does. Did you know Freddy’s brother is coming?”
Evie arches her eyebrows. “There are two of them?” she asks slyly, out of habit.
“Evie! Aren’t you with Jasper?”
“Yes,” she almost whispers, like it’s new enough she could break it with too much breath behind the word. “We are.”
Jenni feels herself getting emotional. Since Evie’s husband died it had been quickies in her piercing room with hot customers like Freddy or slutty fun at fetish parties. Jenni’s touched she let someone become truly intimate with her. She tears up. “Damn hormones!” she sniffs.
“Well, just not at the altar, okay? I can’t stand to see couples blubbering about how much they love each other. Just get through that part without crying, all right?”
“Yes, Evie. Do you think I’m doing the right thing? I mean, is this crazy?”
“Not for you. You guys are the threesomest thruple that ever was. Are you having second thoughts?”
“No. I just don’t trust my own judgment. Not without Dr. Z. Why do I feel like a third wheel at a gay wedding?”
“I’ve watched Mark fuck you. He’s not gay. He loves you both equally. You’re the one he chose to legally marry, you know.”
That was true. His marriage to his boy was symbolical; the law of the land has not yet caught up with the Fairbairns.
“Now, what about makeup?”
“Oh. Daddy doesn’t like it.”
“Well, you don’t really need it. You’ve got the glow.”
“I do?”
“You do. As for me, I’m getting glam,” Evie laughs.
She sure does. Jenni watches the feminine rituals with interest. Evie smiles to herself as she sits before the array of cosmetics on her vanity table. When it’s time for her to dress, she surprises Jenni by asking her to avert her eyes.
‘She really doesn’t allow anyone to see her body since her husband,’ Jenni thinks.
“Okay, izmir escort you can open your eyes. How do I look?” she asks.
Dressed in diaphanous layers of lavender and smoke, her hair braided up with long tendrils left artfully down, big crystal jewelry, a delicate chain from nose to her ear, she looks like witchy royalty.
“Stevie Nicks would eat her heart out.”
“Ha! That’s the goal when I dress up. Thank you.”
They head out to pick up the flowers. The florists light up to see her walk into their shop: She’d told them to be as creative as they wanted and are eager to see her reaction. She’d told them she wanted an abundance of everything uncommon all arranged in interesting combinations. “You know, like our sex life,” she’d said with a shrug. They’d been amused at the odd young woman as she explained about her backyard pagan wedding. They were happy to take the short-notice job; the large cash payment didn’t hurt, but there was also something about her that inspired goodwill and the project sounded infinitely more fun than doing some monochromatic country club wedding.
“How many flowers can I get for this much?” she’d asked, plonking down a stack of notes. This was not the sort of bride they were used to assisting. It was more like something a boy might say. And though she seemed content to walk out right then and leave the whole thing to their expertise, they knew enough to ask her some questions first. People often have preferences when they think they don’t.
Looking through their book, she decided she did want a crown of braided twigs and leaves. “Maybe for the grooms, as well?” she’d asked. “Is that a thing?”
“Oh! I thought you were the one getting married. I must have misunderstood,” said the man. Maybe she was just a terrible personal assistant.
“I am. Here, see?” she says, pleased to show him a picture on her phone of her boys looking lovey-dovey together. “The dark-haired one is my Daddy. The redhead is his boy.”
The florists’ eyes widen as they look at the image. “I know, right?!” Jenni giggles. “You guys aren’t going to refuse me service on religious grounds, are you?”
“I think a man in a flower crown can be very sexy,” one of them says. She says she’ll take two, then makes it four. “For our friends helping out,” she explains lest they think this is a cult situation.
* * * * *
Now, on this gloomy Saturday, the girl has returned in a gown.
“We think you’ll be happy! We hope so, anyway!” says the shop owner. “Here, these are yours,” he says about a cart piled with a riot of flora. Jenni blinks in disbelief.
“Mine? Whoaaa,” she says. “Freddy’s going to love this! He’s the nature boy. These are just like I wanted!”
The man laughs. “As I recall, you said something about ‘everything’ and ‘sexy.’ So we got it right?”
“Yeah! I love all the… stuff in it!” In addition to blooms of every color and variety available to them, they’d added branches of pine, eucalyptus, pussy willows, crazy Dr. Seuss-looking things shooting out. “Evie! Come look!” she exclaims like a little kid talking to her mom.
“Those are really amazing. You made a wise choice with this place,” Evie praises.
The fellows help them load the arrangements into Evie’s hatchback. Jenni just stays out of the way; the mermaid dress shortens her stride and, with the bump, trying to lift anything in front of her would cause her to fall over.
“What are these?” Evie asks about five small boxes.
“These are your flower crowns. Would you like to try yours on?” the florist asks Jenni.
“Okay,” she says, more shyly than before. Until this point, she’d pushed the performative aspect of getting married from her mind. Now, she had the beginnings of nerves about being the center of attention. Perhaps it wasn’t Mark she was unsure of at all, only how it would look to others.
He places the crown of fresh leaves on her head. It’s held together with shimmery gold ribbon. He and Evie gasp.
“What. What is it?” Jenni asks.
“Now you look like a bride on her wedding day,” he says. It was true. With her vulpine haircut and no makeup, she did look unfinished from the neck up. This completed her appearance like she suddenly came into focus. She holds her chin up and smiles crookedly.
In the car with Evie, she begins to chuckle.
“What’s so funny?”
“I did something right. That’s always funny to me. They put me in charge of this and they’ll be very happy with it.”
Evie just shakes her adorned ahead and drives to Freddy’s house. Jenni fidgets in her seat. “I can’t wait to see my boys! I suddenly miss them so much!”
“That’s very good if you’re about to be handfasted together!”
* * * * *
“Woah. Shit just got real,” Jenni jokes. There is a mammoth moving truck in the driveway for the rental furnishings. Evie backs out of the ribbon driveway and parks on the street. When she walks toward the house, Jenni calls to her. “Help! I can’t stand up without tearing my dress!”
Evie pulls her to standing with her athletic adana escort body. “My stitching is strong. Still, you’re right to be cautious with it.” Jenni holds onto her elbow as she waddles up to the house. Evie carries the boxes containing the crowns.
They go through to the kitchen to find Freddy and Jasper drinking mimosas. Jasper couldn’t resist ordering the black short-sleeved shirt and white collar of a preacher from the website that ordained him. It’s humorous, but not ridiculous.
Freddy’s also looking elegant. One wouldn’t know he’s the real pagan among them; he looks almost Edwardian upper class in his tan summer suit without a jacket, white shirtsleeves rolled up, vest and bowtie. His sister nearly squeaks. On his brawny build, the vintage outfit looks amazing.
“Look at you!” they all say at once, then laugh.
“Evie, you look divine,” Jasper states.
“And you look like you’d know,” she jokes. “Nice outfit.”
“Freddy says it’s fine, even for a heathen wedding. He’s not offended. Mimosa?”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Evie says.
“Have you both eaten?” Freddy asks, always the concerned big brother.
“We’ve been busy. Looking this good doesn’t happen by accident,” Jenni says.
“Oh, I thought it did,” Freddy quips and pats her bump. What makes her look so good to him was, in fact, an accident. “I had a feeling you two would need something to last you until the feast…”
“Freddy, you woke up and baked on your wedding day?”
“I had to keep my hands busy!” he says, peddling from one foot to the other. “There’d be nothing that needed doing for hours… so I made a multigrain vegan bread. Mark likes it.”
He slices two big pieces. “Want some avocado for it?”
“Yes, please. Freddy, you’re so…” Evie starts.
“GODVERDOMME!”
Freddy, kitchen god he may be, has sliced through the tip of his finger.
“FUCK ME!”
All the color drains from Jenni’s face. She grasps the kitchen island and chants under her breath, “ohmygod, ohmygod.” She starts to cry: she hates that Freddy’s hurt, but she’s useless as that particular injury is making her queasy and faint.
“Did you cut it off?” Evie asks, keeping her head.
“No, it’s like, on a hinge…”
“Ahhh!” Jenni cries out.
“Sorry, little one,” he apologizes. He wraps his hand in a kitchen towel to cover it up. The girl is panting and struggling to remain conscious. Evie grabs onto her to hold her up.
“Jasper, can you drive him to the ER? My car is still full of the flowers and they can’t sit in the heat.”
“Of course, we’ll go right now! Should we tell Mark?”
“No! Do not tell him! Say we went on an errand. I don’t want this to ruin his day!” Freddy barks. Jasper grabs an extra towel and they leave.
Evie helps the girl to a chair at the kitchen table. She’s rocking back and forth, “Oh god, poor Freddy, oh my god, oh god…”
“Jesus. You’re white as a ghost. I had no idea you were so afraid of blood.”
“I’m not… it’s the fingertip thing… oh god… and that it’s Freddy… I love him so much…”
Evie gets her a glass of orange juice and lifts it to her mouth. “Drink this. Little sips. Good girl. Did you see it?”
“No, I didn’t look.”
“Then stop imagining it. He’s a big tough guy. Freddy’s going to be just fine, honey.”
“Okay,” she says, sucking in a careful breath. Her rocking slows. “Okay. I’ll get a grip.”
“Oh, wow. I spy something that will make you forget all about this incident. Look out the window.”
Jenni hasn’t yet had a chance to focus on the activity outside. The workers from the rental company are setting up their feast table under the colorfully patterned, fringed canopy. (To think, the biggest worry had been that it might rain.) They’re smoothing red tablecloths over a long table for 28. That includes the Fairbairns and an empty seat for Dr. Zavodny.
Mark’s chatting with them. From the look of it, they’re just shooting the breeze, he’s not directing them. Surely this is a small affair compared to their usual jobs.
“Is Mark wearing… half of a wedding dress?” Jenni asks.
“Something like that. His original take on pagan formal dress was that he wanted something ‘Egyptian.’ Jasper gave him so much shit for that. Called him ‘Liz Taylor,’ as in, another pretty white face appropriating the costume of brown royalty.”
“Nice one, Jasper.”
“So your man threatened to get married skyclad rather than wear a suit and, well, this was the compromise. That’s actually menswear, though the sort of thing you’d see on the runway. Few guys would have the nerve to wear that in real life.”
“It does fit him like it was made for him. He looks kind of… normal like that.” Jenni taps on the windowpane to get him to turn. When he does, she can see he’s wearing a large metal necklace that rests flat on his chest like decorative armor.
“That’s one of mine,” Evie says. “From Afghanistan. Looks better on him.”
“So he’s not wearing a shirt today?”
“That’s his wedding adıyaman escort outfit. You’re marrying an eccentric artist.”
“He looks like a dream.”
Mark trots up to the kitchen and enters through the side door. “Baby girl! You look… not good. What is it? The baby bein’ too rough?”
Jenni hesitates. Freddy must have known when he asked that she can’t lie to him. “Daddy, Freddy cut himself and had to go get stitches. He’ll be okay! He didn’t want me to tell you, but… that’s why I don’t look so hot right now.”
Now Mark goes pale. His slight beard stands out darker around his seraphic lips. “Bad?”
“It needs attention,” she says, trying to keep the details from her mind.
“What exactly happened?”
Jenni moans again, “Ughhh…”
Evie steps in. “It’s an avocado injury. Just a flesh wound, just needs stitches,” she says pointing at Jenni and shaking her head no.
Mark gets it that talking about it is too upsetting for his girl. “Poor guy. Well, my first decree as the head of this family is no avocados allowed. They’re too fuckin’ dangerous.” Mark is taking this whole princely persona to heart it seems. It does suit him.
“I don’t think I will ever be able to look at one again,” Jenni says with a shudder. “Tasty little bastards.”
“You wanna go lie down? We got hours yet until anyone shows up. C’mon.”
“Okay, Daddy.”
“I’ll be right down,” he tells Evie.
“But, aren’t you gonna cuddle me?” Jenni asks in a pitiful little voice.
“Go,” Evie says. “I’ll finish up with these guys. When are the caterers due?”
“Not for a couple hours.”
“Well then. You two have time to ‘cuddle,'” she says with an eye-roll.
Mark grins like Lucifer and helps his mate out of the kitchen.
First, Evie cleans the blood from the countertop. Then she finds a spoon. “Come here you tasty little bastard.”
* * * * *
At the bottom of the stairs, Jenni realizes she can’t climb in her dress.
“Arms around my neck. There ya go.”
“How can you still lift me?”
“You’re still my little girl. And I’m a man-don’t let the skirt fool ya.”
“Or the eyeliner,” she adds, studying his face up close. “I love it.”
“I sometimes wear it for special occasions, less often than in the punk days. Surprised?”
“No.”
Up in the bedroom, Mark slowly unzips her dress. “I haven’t told ya yet. Your wedding dress looks really pretty. I didn’t mean to say ya looked bad, you just looked ready to keel over. I was just worried. You’re gorgeous.”
“Thank you, Daddy. Are you worried about Freddy?”
“Nah. I feel bad for him, but he’s a big boy.” Mark discovers the pads in her dress. “I think ya better feed him when he gets back. That will make him feel better.”
When they’re both undressed, they get into what Jenni realizes is now their bed. Mark puts his arm around her tight. “I got you, baby. Everything’s gonna be all right now.”
“Mmmm,” she sighs. “You’re like a real angel. Especially today.”
“Pfft.”
The tension escalates. Jenni wonders who will be the first one to acknowledge it. Why does she feel shy to let him know she wants him to have sex with her? Something about today… it excites her that she’s his and he still intimidates her.
He kisses her neck. “You sure ya don’t wanna wait for the wedding night?” he teases. She’s said nothing, made no sounds. She didn’t have to.
“Is that what you want?”
“Nope. I want this to remember, too. Just you and me together before everything gets crazy. I think wedding day morning sex is a secret rite you and me discovered.”
Mark’s hands begin to travel.
“We should take a picture,” Jenni muses.
“I don’t need a picture of this; I ain’t gonna forget the last time we make love when you’re just my little girl. Next time, you’ll be my ????????.”
Jenni can’t believe how sexy he makes that boring word when he emphasizes it in his accent. She raises her leg a little to hold his erection between her thighs.
“You aren’t bored with sex like this?”
“It still feels good to me.” He puts his warm hand on her belly. “When this guy’s out in the world we’ll go wild. You’ll be shocked at the things I do to you.”
“Oh!” That’s it; she can’t take anymore. She pushes his hand lower like a greedy pet.
Mark gently enters her and moans like he’s been long deprived. “Last night was our first night apart. I didn’t like it,” he rasps in her ear. He squirms his hips to get closer, deeper. This basic pregnancy fuck is, today, unexplainably luscious.
“Daddy… did Freddy do something witchy to this bed last night?”
“Mmm, don’t know, baby. Why? Feel somethin’ ya like?”
“This feels like magic.”
He exaggerates his skillful motion. “That’s us marrying each other. No one has to know we already started with my cock inside you.”
“Oh! Oh, fuck… you’re crazy, Daddy,” she purrs in bliss and pure admiration of everything about him. She is far beyond caring what she may look like pledging herself to him. This was unstoppable.
He brings her wrist to his lips and bites, as the warm metal of his necklace bites into her back. He finds the deepest place he can go and rests there, just filling her. She cries out when he adds his fingertip to her most sensitive flesh.
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