Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Categories:
Fandom:
Relationships:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Stats:
Published:
2018-08-01
Updated:
2018-12-18
Words:
1,519
Chapters:
4/?
Comments:
23
Kudos:
30
Bookmarks:
4
Hits:
244

Handsome Wife

Summary:

"Her husband, ever her supporter, responded, “What shall I call you, then?”
They decided that nothing needed to change - not yet. Maybe in the future, and maybe not."

Just some genderfluid!Alma drabbles. Lots of OT3.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter 1: Handsome Wife

Chapter Text

The first time she cuts her hair short, her hands shake and the earth spins under her and she hands the scissors to Cabanela - she can’t be precise in this state. So he, with steady confidence, styles and slices through the lilac.

There never was a question to it, before. She was feminine, she was just as she was supposed to be.
The question came far too late, as far as she could tell. The who am I and why and what does this mean came not as a child, when her friend’s questions did. Not as a teen, when her cousin’s questions did. No, she was married before it even occurred to her.
And that was what terrified her.

“Sometimes,” she told him, “I feel like a man.”
And her husband, ever her supporter, responded, “What shall I call you, then?”
They decided that nothing needed to change - not yet. Maybe in the future, and maybe not.

“I love you,” she told them, “the way a man would love you.” She doesn’t know how to explain it - perhaps in the way Cabanela’s hands move as he dances. Perhaps in the way Jowd’s beard curls up as he smiles. How should she know, anyway? She’s never loved a man the way a woman would, so how should she know?
“As I love you, then, baby,” Cabanela said, and she relaxed.

The first time she cuts her hair short, the first time she makes a real change, in her mind - she shuts her eyes tightly. She feels strands fall on her shoulders, feels Jowd’s hands gently brush them away. Her neck feels cold, until warm lips press against the back and a voice by her ear says “lookin’ gooooood, baby.”
She opens her eyes to see her mirror, held in Jowd’s large, warm hands. And in that mirror, a familiar face - now framed with loose, short waves. She sees Cabanela’s thin hands pull back what’s left and tie it with her yellow bow. She feels… right.
“My handsome wife,” Jowd says, and then kisses her softly.
“My goooood lookin’ boys,” Cabanela coos, and he pulls her up from the chair and spins her around, then wraps his arms around both Jowd and Alma, and - “how’s that sound?”
“Good,” Alma sighs, relaxing into his embrace, “but maybe just sometimes.” She pauses. “For now.”

Chapter 2: Between Sheets (songfic)

Summary:

Songfic for Between Sheets by Imogen Heap

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

It’s early morning, and it doesn’t get much better than this, she thinks.
She’s the littlest spoon in their stack. Her partner has both arms around her, his nose against her bobbed hair. Her husband’s arm is wrapped around them both, heavy and strong and comforting.
It takes a little effort, but she turns around to face them without loosening Cabanela’s grasp. His eyes crack open, and he smiles.
“Moooooornin, baby,” he says, voice soft. His eyes are closed again as he nuzzles into her cheek, tightens his hold.
She gives a soft “hmm,” smiles.
Jowd shifts slowly, moves his other arm to prop up his head as he looks down at them. “You should be quieter, in the mornings, you know. Some of us are sleeping.”
Cabanela releases her, only to turn to Jowd. On a whim, she lifts a hand, trailing it gently down Cabanela’s silk-clad back. The morning light screening through the blinds lands on the back of his neck, and on her husband’s face, illuminating their skin.
In that moment, to her, they’re perfect.
Cabanela kisses Jowd, who no longer complains. Then, another - this time for Alma, and she smiles into the kiss. Then, another - husband and wife, smiling and living for the moment.
Maybe another… and another one…

Notes:

idk i think it's cute

Chapter 3: Lunchtime

Summary:

Sometimes, she brings lunch by the station.

Some family fluff with a dash of gender reveal.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Sometimes, she likes to bring lunch by the station.
She has her fair share of beloved people, there. A husband, a partner, a daughter (practically). Since meeting Sissel, she’ll sometimes stop by the cells to drop off something for Yomiel, while she’s there. (Jowd always had a strange look to him, when she did - not jealousy, but not anything she could really understand, either.)
Today, however, is different. In the past, she’s always been, well, Jowd’s wife. The pristinely feminine Alma she’s always appeared to be feels like a distant memory, now - almost as if making up for lost time, she’s nearly always felt more masculine since the realization struck. So, for the first time, she visits the station as a man.
She dresses the part - a crisp button down and a light blue vest, though she keeps her yellow bow and a pair of silver earrings. (Why should she dress for anyone but herself, anyway?) Then, she gathers a bag full of freshly homemade food, takes her daughter’s hand, and walks out the door.

She feels the eyes on her as she enters the station, her daughter in tow. Rather quickly, Kamila spots Lynne and rushes over to her for a hug. Alma smiles.
“Helloooooo, handsome.” Cabanela’s voice comes from behind her - he’s managed to dance his way to the entrance after her. “What brings you here, baby?”
“Lunch,” she says simply, holding up her loaded bag. Cabanela’s eyebrows raise, so she winks and heads for Jowd’s desk, Cabanela following after (their eyes following after).

“Hello, my love,” Jowd greets her, leaving his desk to give her a smiling kiss.
“Lunch,” she says, when they part. “I brought chicken.”
Jowd seems satisfied. Cabanela rolls his eyes.
“Soooooometimes,” he drawls, “I wonder if you prioritize your own husband’s preferences over mine.” The twinkle in his eyes would give away the joke, if the years hadn’t already.
Alma laughs. “There’s pasta salad, too.” She drops the bag of food on Jowd’s desk, cocks her hip, turns to Cabanela. “Besides, if someone hadn’t eaten all the spaghetti last night, he’d have leftovers.”
Cabanela laughs, now, and Alma and Jowd smile back.
(They like to think their relationship with Cabanela is a secret. It may very well be - just a very badly kept one.) (The station smiles back.)

When Kamila has managed to drag Lynne over, they all sit down at Jowd’s desk to eat. It’s picturesque, Alma thinks. Their family.
“-and this crime scene is COVERED in blood, I’m not exaggerating-”
Alma chuckles into her forkful of chicken as Lynne energetically tells her story. Okay, maybe not that picturesque.
To her, though? It’s perfect.

Notes:

i didnt proofread this and im sincerely sorry
please feel free to complain

Chapter 4: Things are Good (Though She Doesn't Understand)

Summary:

They're here for each other, to varying degrees of understanding.

Notes:

im back babey

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

She wasn’t sure how it happened, but one day, the way Jowd held her changed.

He always held her close, but he held her closer, now. He took days off work more often, always days that she had off too. He was almost always touching her - a hand in hers, shoulders touching, fingers tracing her side, lips pressing into her hair. Sometimes, she’d catch him staring, an expression on his face she couldn’t comprehend.

She didn’t mind the attention - she thrived on the love of her husband, it warmed her bones and tingled at her fingertips and pounded in her ears.

Still, she couldn’t help but worry as daily “goodbye”s became desperate “see you soon”s and casual embraces felt like he was afraid to let go.

---

She wasn’t sure how it happened, but one day, the way Cabanela moved around her changed.

He always danced around her, not unlike how he danced around everyone (though for her, he showed off a little more, twirling a little faster, always meeting her eyes with a wink), but he danced closer now. Casual touches when he flitted past became lingering, hands around her arms, fingers brushing her cheeks, arms across her back. He kissed her more, now, even in public, short presses of his lips to her cheek or her forehead, longer on her hand (and longer against her lips, when no one was looking, desperately stealing her breath away). Sometimes, she’d catch him staring, an expression on his face she couldn’t comprehend.

She didn’t mind the attention - she lived for the love of her partner, it filled her heart and ran through her veins.

Still, she couldn’t help but worry as the “baaaaby”s turned desperate.

---

Things were fine, though, when they were together.

Even on Jowd or Cabanela’s bad days - and they had bad days, though they never brought it up, never spoke the words - when the three of them sat together, laid together, limbs tangled, relishing the time; that was when things were good.

And when Jowd would wake up, reaching for her, a frantic “Alma, are you there?” on his lips, she didn’t understand, but she didn’t have to. She’d steal away the thought with a kiss, and Jowd would relax in her arms, and things were good.

And when Cabanela would need the middle spot, nestled between his partners, one of their hands in each of his with an iron grip, she didn’t understand the desperation, but she didn’t have to. She’d just nuzzle his face, her hand in his, and whisper, “we’re here,” and things were good.

(And when she woke from a black blur of a nightmare, a pain in her chest, regret in her throat, her partners seemed to understand what she couldn’t - and they’d hold her close, and kiss her face, and things were good.)

Notes:

i think this is some of my better writing and also it gave me a lot of feelings

Notes:

hope you enjoy

please consider commenting and letting me know what you think

you can follow me at briarthedragon on tumblr and twitter