#what is this story even...nervous laughter

[poetgirlcat]

AMERICAN WEDDING — RAFE CAMERON

Play the song "America's Wedding" by Frank Ocean if you want.

You and Rafe get married Kennedy style

It was an unusually quiet morning for a wedding.

No screaming makeup artists. No cousins crying in the hallway. No aunts debating over flower arrangements.

Just the murmur of the sea in the distance, waves breaking slowly like applause in slow motion.

And you, standing in front of the mirror, wearing an oversized white shirt while Rachel helped you with your eyeliner, her hands trembling just enough to make you both nervous.

—“Are you sure you don’t want fake lashes?” she asked, half-exasperated with your extreme minimalism.

—“I just want to look like me. Only… less panicked.”

She sighed, adjusted your hair slightly, and gave you a gentle tap on the shoulder.

—“You look like you’re about to break the world’s heart.”

And maybe that was true.

Because today, you weren’t just a girl in love marrying Rafe Cameron.

You were his only exception.

The ceremony was small. Intimate.

No loud dresses. No awkward speeches. Rafe had been clear about it: he only wanted people who knew—people who’d seen how he looked at you when you were sleeping or how you could make him laugh when he was coming undone.

There was no choir. No red carpet.

Just sun-bleached wood, white flowers that looked wild even if they weren’t, and a silk dress that fell on your body like it had always belonged there.

Rafe waited at the end of the aisle in a deep navy suit, no tie, hair slightly tousled, and an expression you couldn’t quite read.

He didn’t cry.

He didn’t smile, either.

He just looked at you like you were the only constant in a world that never stopped spinning.

As you reached him, he glanced down briefly and whispered,

—“You look so good I kind of want to run off with you before you even get here.”

You let out a breath of laughter, soft but real, and just like that, the tension eased.

There were no written vows.

No long declarations.

Just a look, and the way he took your hand and kissed it—like he was asking for permission instead of taking it.

—“I don’t have fancy words,” Rafe said quietly, eyes never leaving yours. “But since I met you, I don’t feel like running anymore.”

You smiled, chest tightening.

—“I don’t have grand promises either. I just know… when you’re here, everything feels less impossible.”

Then the officiant said what they were supposed to say.

There were no birds chirping in perfect harmony, no invisible music swelling behind you.

Just the sound of his breathing, your pounding heart, and a kiss.

Slow.

Quiet.

Like it had all the time in the world.

The reception felt more like a long dinner party than a traditional celebration.

Everyone sat together at long tables under strings of warm lights swaying in the ocean breeze. There were no place cards or dramatic centerpieces. Just mismatched glassware, good wine, and laughter that sounded like it belonged.

People shared stories about you both—most of them wildly inaccurate, some outright lies.

JJ swore Rafe had once written you poetry.

—“It was an Arctic Monkeys song, dumbass,” Rafe said, smirking lazily.

Everyone laughed, especially you.

You couldn’t focus much that night. Not really.

Because every time you glanced across the table, Rafe was already looking at you.

And it wasn’t just a look—it was a pull. Like even across a crowd, he could reach you without lifting a finger.

Later, when everyone had wandered off—some barefoot on the sand, others passed out on chairs—you and Rafe slipped away.

No one said, let’s go.

You just stood, looked at each other, and walked toward the white house waiting at the end of the path, your fingers already tangled together.

In the bedroom, with your heels discarded and his shirt half-unbuttoned, you both collapsed onto the bed without much ceremony.

He looked at you from the side, eyes a little sleepy.

—“Wanna hear something stupid?”

—“Always.”

—“I didn’t sleep at all last night. I kept dreaming you wouldn’t show up.”

—“Dramatic,” you smiled. “I’m not that complicated.”

—“It’s not that,” he said, turning fully toward you. “You’re the realest thing that’s ever happened to me… and real things don’t usually stay.”

You didn’t say anything.

Not right away.

Just felt his fingers tracing soft circles on your wrist.

Then you smiled, half-asleep but grounded.

—“I’m not going anywhere, Rafe. Even if you snore.”

—“I don’t snore.”

—“Do you want me to record it?”

—“Marrying you was a mistake.”

—“Too late. I’m legally yours.”

And then you both laughed.

The real kind.

The messy, open-mouth, eyes-squinting kind.

The kind of laughter that feels like forgetting the hard parts of life for a second.

And just like that, the day ended.

No fireworks.

No first dance.

No perfect photos.

Just you and Rafe.

Two people who chose each other without needing to explain it.

Because sometimes love doesn’t need to be loud.

It just needs to stay.

I love Caroline (total diva) I hope they don't ruin her with the series they're making 🥲

[carpesabrina]

"Mhmm yes, no killing people. We'll think of a single if I'm super uncomfortable need you to like beat someone up. Maybe scrunching my nose." She said. It had to be something that she didn't do often, but something that he could still see when he was pretty far away from her. "I promise if you took me to a crappy place, I'd still fuck you. Just more of a comfy bed makes it better." She teased. She tilted her head as she thought about the names that he was labelling off for her. She was all for calling him daddy in the bedroom. It was sexy. But she also knew she didn't want to be called anything like mommy or mama. She was aware those were popular in that community, but she could never see herself being called that when it came to intimacy. "Not mama or queen." She told him, scrunching her nose as she thought about the other two that he said. "Maybe Mistress. Ohh or goddess. Because I'm already your goddess." She laughed at the thought of the cops getting called on them. "Oh god, no. Could you imagine we're both standing their butt naked trying to convince the cops that you did not break into my room and that you're my partner? Now that would make the damn headlines on TMZ. Probably blurred pics of our bodies and all." She shook her head at the thought. It would be embarrassing in a whole, but worse because of who she was. How easy it was for something like that to come out. Which is why she was always careful when she was out in public. At least when she was sober and was thinking straight. "Send Winnie to the backyard and lock the cats up in the office. They'll be fine. for a few hours." She leaned up and kissed him again, her hand moving between them, "Round two and then sleep?" She asked as she wrapped her hand around him and started stroking him. After he agreed, Sabrina moved on top of him. After another round of making love, the two fell asleep tangled in each other's arms.

The rest of the week had went by fast between their little mexico trip and her family coming to New York. She was busy most of Saturday with the girls, and then Sunday they had a quick family dinner with her mom, sisters, and max's family. She was loving how well that their families got together. She had always worried about them clashing or just plain out hating each other. They were as different as Max and Sabrina were. But things always worked out in her favor. By the time Monday came around, Sabrina was ready for alone time with Max. Only to be reminded that they were in fact wrestling together. she was nervous about this one. When she had mentioned her fantasy about him fucking her in the ring, she was fully expecting it was gonna be that. But no, he added on the wrestling. "You're gonna be shirtless, correct? Trunks and no shirt? None of that onesie bullshit you've been rocking during Dynamite?" She asked, a hint of laughter in her voice as she spoke. Hey, if he wasn't gonna be shirtless for her during filming, he could at least do it that day so she could stare at him for a moment. Actually, him shirtless might be a bit too distracting for her. She linked her arm with his as she followed him into the building. She had been here before with him when he'd invite her to work out with him. She got to meet a few of his friends while here. Some of them sharing stories from his training days with her. She loved learning the Max he was before, even if his personality hadn't changed much in the ten years that he had been wrestling. "Alright, let me go get this gear on." She said as she grabbed the bag and went into the locker room. She changed out of her clothes and into the gear that he had gotten for her. She was worried it wouldn't look good on her body type, but it had. He knew what he was doing and she just had to trust the process. Sabrina had brought some makeup, so she did a quick layer just to spruce up her look, adding some pink eyeshadow to match the outfit she had on. And then she ran her brush through her hair. "Alright baby, I'm ready." She said as she walked out to go find Max.

Max had been through his own trauma of being called too much, too arrogant, too weird because of his condition and how he would lose his thoughts or forget what he was doing at times. Sabrina accepted him flaws and all. She had proven that at the restaurant when his brain shut down from being so nervous with all the paparazzi and body guards on what was supposed to be a romantic date. She could have laughed, broken up with him for being so weird but she didn't instead she squeezed his hand and rubbed it while giving his brain time to slow down again. He wasn't some mentally challenged person to her where all his life kids had made him feel like he was awkward and didn't belong. Wrestling had been his salvation but away from it, he was still a mess but he was her mess and she loved him regardless. He loved that she wanted him with her instead of telling him that facetime would do and flying away for months. He trusted her but he knew his mind would wonder why she didn't want him with her. They had never had to cross that bridge because she loved having him there no matter what time he got in if he was working. She was showing him not only her world but the actually world as they with country to country together. "We're on the same page baby. I'm excited to watch people try to pick you up and you shoot them down or me scare them off. I promise no killing anyone unless absolutely necessary. " He laughed thinking about Vegas, she would never let him live that down but no one touches his wife. "Has to be expensive because I can't expect to pick you up and take you to some crappy place. I want to make sure i get laid." He couldn't help but chuckle and place a kiss to her lips. "Yeah? I'm down with that. Whatever you want to do to me, you're in control. You need to think of what you want me to call you? Mistress, Lady, Queen, Mama, is there some for dominant personality you like being called?" He nods and stokes her arm and sides. "Definitely because I don't need anyone calling the cops about me breaking into a hotel or something. That would be weird and you'll be more comfortable at home for something like that. We'll have to put the babies up so they don't attack me since my face will be covered at first."