#idfk i'm procrastinating and wanted to write something fluffy

[beauregardlionett]

'til death do us part (vow unbroken)

AO3 Link

Beau plopped herself down on Yasha’s lap, knees on either side of her wife’s hips as she grinned down at Yasha’s tired but fond expression.

Her wife. Beau couldn’t believe she got to say that now.

In some ways, marrying Yasha hadn’t changed things. They had been living in the same simple but homey cottage together for a while now. They shared a bed, a home, a good portion of their lives. Most of this did not change with their newly minted marriage.

In other ways, marrying Yasha changed everything.

Yasha’s hands settled on Beau’s hips, her thumbs smoothing over the bony prominences with easy familiarity. Beau leaned forward enough to bury her fingers in Yasha’s hair—undone from the beautiful, intricate braids she had worn during their wedding earlier.

“Hi,” Yasha hummed.

“Hey,” Beau chuckled, scratching at Yasha’s scalp. “How you doing, babe?”

“Today was wonderful,” Yasha said, eyes bright and voice giddy. “But I’m tired, and glad it’s just us now.”

“Me too,” Beau sighed, leaning down to press a kiss against Yasha’s forehead.

They lingered in the moment's stillness until Yasha shifted beneath Beau. The movement prompted Beau to pull back, just enough to look down at Yasha with a brow raised in question.

“It still doesn’t feel real,” Yasha murmured after a moment. “All of this...joy. I wonder sometimes if this is just a dream.”

Beau heard the things Yasha didn’t say underneath the half-confession. That Yasha wasn’t sure she deserved this, the ever present worry that she had killed Beau back in that cathedral and this was all a made up scenario to cope. Or worse, the lingering effects of a spell lying to her. They’d had this conversation before, and they would likely have it again. Beau understood, more than Yasha might realize.

Sometimes she also couldn’t even believe this was real. But she wasn’t the one who needed convincing right now.

“This is real, Yash,” Beau murmured, bending slightly to catch Yasha’s eye. “I promise.”

Yasha smiled, a tight, close lipped thing—clearly unconvinced but trying not to worry Beau. Realizing she would have to be more persuasive, Beau shifted her weight and smiled.

“You,” Beau said with emphasis as she scooped up one of Yasha’s hands into her own. “Are wonderful.”

Beau leaned down and kissed the pad of Yasha’s ring finger. “You’re thoughtful.” She flipped Yasha’s hand over and kissed her knuckles. “You’re funny.” Beau pressed her lips to the inside of Yasha’s wrist, lingering over her pulse point as she glanced up at her wife.

“You’re gorgeous.”

Yasha flushed but didn’t glance away and left her hand in Beau’s grasp. Beau grinned, moving to kiss the crease of Yasha’s elbow. “You’re strong and brave and unfailingly loyal.”

Shifting her weight forward so she could lean in close, Beau pressed a long kiss to the curve of Yasha’s shoulder. She turned her head to the side and pressed her cheek against the spot she had just kissed, beaming up at Yasha’s flushed cheeks.

“You care so deeply about me and our family.” She heard the shaky exhale Yasha let out as Beau shifted again, moving to drag her lips up the column of Yasha’s throat. She pressed a sweet kiss to the curve of Yasha’s jaw, grinning against the tender skin there.

“You are a monochromatic vision in a world of color.”

Beau leaned back just enough to settle her hands on Yasha’s shoulders and drink in the dazed, loving look she got in return. The words were a familiar weight on Beau's tongue. It was the same thing she had said to Yasha when they were on their first date together, tentative and fumbling and desperate not to fuck up as the threat of imminent death hung over their heads. But here, and now, there was no threat to their lives. There was only the quiet crackle of the fire in their hearth and the deep, comfortable knowledge of security.

With a grin of her own, Beau leaned down and captured Yasha’s lips in a long kiss. It wasn’t anything like the more chaste, somewhat formal kiss they had shared at the altar in front of their friends and family earlier. This was something better, something that tasted like wine and devotion, something holier than Beau could ever imagine.

As they broke apart, lingering scarcely centimeters from each other, Beau said breathlessly, “you’re my wife. And this is real—I promise.”

A grin brighter than anything Beau had ever seen before split across Yasha’s face. Her hands skimmed up Beau’s back to wrap her up in a firm embrace as Yasha laughed, high and sweet.

“You are my wife.” And, oh. Beau understood now why Yasha looked so fucking giddy now. That was such a wondrous thing to proclaim.

Beau buried her face in Yasha's hair, pressing another kiss there as she returned the embrace and laughed. This was familiar, easy. Marrying Yasha hadn't changed anything. Marrying Yasha had changed everything.