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Your Highness - Sanji x Reader: Part One

PART TWO PART THREE

plot: you’re a runaway princess bride who finds her way into the straw hat crew. you expected one hell of an adventure, but you never expected to fall for the head chef. things get even more complicated when your father, the king, and your ex-fiancé send their troops after the going merry. now you must choose between surrendering to save your crew and being with the only man you’ve ever truly loved. but of course, the straw hat crew isn’t going to let you go without a fight. especially sanji.

You panted heavily, hands gripped tightly onto your heavy white skirts as you navigated your way through the back alleys of the city. Your hair, which was previously tied up in perfect ringlets behind an intricate headdress, was now flying wildly behind you in loose waves. Suddenly, your heeled shoe snapped beneath you, and you fell to the ground with a thud. Mud splashed up onto your pristine white wedding gown, but you didn’t care. You were more focused on the march of soldiers’ footsteps that sounded off in the distance. You snapped your head around to glance behind you, then got back up on your feet to continue running away, your shoe left discarded in the alleyway. You didn’t know where you were heading, but you knew you had to get far away from the castle.

You never liked being a princess. All the rules and expectations were suffocating. Everyone was always telling you what to do, how to dress, how to act, how to feel… you had no freedom and led an extremely restricted life. You were the eldest daughter of the king, with two older brothers in line for the throne before you. Since birth, it was very clear to you that your only purpose in life was to marry a prince and produce his heirs so that your father could gain an ally. You were merely a pawn in a game that you never even got a turn in, and you were sick of it. You craved adventure. To see the wonders of the great world as they were intended to be explored. To live a life of passion that offered you fulfillment and excitement. That was your dream.

Today was supposed to be your wedding day. Your father had picked a prince for you to marry, and you were to be wed in just an hour. You were not in love with your fiancé, in fact, you’d never even spoken to him before. You only met him once, and that was when your father informed you of your betrothal. He was smug, entitled, and pompous with you the entire time he addressed you, treating you like a trophy or a pet. You decided right then and there that there was no way you were spending the rest of your life married to a man like him. So today, after your ladies’ maids had gotten you dressed and left your quarters, you took your chance to make an escape. You gathered up some gold and a few personal belongings and climbed down the ivy on the side of your ivory tower, making a run for it.

You reached the outskirts of the city along the coast, several long piers stretching out in front of you with huge, royal ships docked along the side of it. They were likely all boats full of nobles who had come as your wedding guests. You rolled your eyes as you scanned over them. Were you ever going to be able to escape the life you were born into? Was this just a foolish attempt of running away? Maybe you should just turn around and surrender to your father. Perhaps the punishment wouldn’t be to severe if you turned yourself in before the wedding.

Just as you were about to give up hope, you noticed an unfamiliar ship with a ram’s head decorating its bow. It was smaller than the other ships, and the crew didn’t look very stately at all. You saw a scrawny boy in a straw hat, a beautiful ginger girl, and a tough-looking moss-haired swordsman on deck, distracted by the map held out in front of them. Then you saw the jolly roger sail along the mast, and realized it was a pirate ship. You figured they were only here to dock ship and gather supplies, then head back out onto the seas. Seeing this as your only chance at escape, you ran towards it with unrelenting speed.

Right as you saw your fathers’ troops turning the corner, you ducked into the opening of the ship. Now in a long, empty hallway, you darted into the first open door you saw, slamming it behind you. You rested your back against the surface and sighed in relief. That was a close call. Perhaps you did have some luck on your side after all!

“I can’t make any food for you until we get more supplies, Luffy.” a man’s voice grunted from around the corner.

Shit, nevermind. You gasped, heart stopping in your chest. Cautiously, you peered around the corner and saw the most gorgeous man you had ever seen at a counter taking inventory. He had a perfect face, beautiful blonde hair, and was sharply dressed in a black suit with a pinstriped shirt and black tie underneath. His long, nimble fingers held a pen in them, swiping over the papers in front of him with quick fervor, pale blue eyes focused on his work.

When he didn’t hear a response from who he assumed was his captain, he glanced up and met your panicked gaze. His eyes widened slightly and his lips parted slightly, seemingly awestruck by you for a few seconds. Then, as if remembering himself, he blinked and clicked his tongue, a charming smile taking place on his expression.

“My my, while it’s always a pleasure to have a beautiful lady in my kitchen, might I ask what you’re doing here madam?” he asked with a flirty lilt to his voice.

You also snapped out of your daze at the sudden question, taking a few slow strides towards the stranger.

“Please sir,” you began, mustering up as much courage and diplomacy as you could. “I’m about to lose my freedom. My dream is to see the world, but I have people chasing after me to lock me back up in my gilded cage. I need to escape this kingdom without anyone knowing where I went.”

He scanned over your appearance, taking in your exquisite wedding gown and intricate jewels.

“My god… you’re a princess aren’t you?” he murmured with a contained gasp.

You nodded reluctantly. “I am Princess Y/N of Dacovia. I’m the eldest daughter of the king, and today is my wedding day. If you just allow me to board your ship, I promise I can make it worth your while.” You reached into your bag and pulled out a handful of gold. “Please captain.”

He smiled once again, putting his hands on his hips as his eyes flickered to the ground. He glanced back up at you and ran a hand through his golden locks. “While I appreciate the formalities your highness, I’m not the captain of this ship. I’m Sanji, the head chef.”

You winced, embarrassed by your groveling. You swallowed hard, then regained your confidence and met his gaze again with a polite smile. “My apologies. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sir Sanji.” You curtseyed to him.

“The pleasure is all mine, your highness.” he grinned, bowing at the waist. “But there’s no need to call me sir.”

You smiled appreciatively. “Then, there’s no need for you to call me your highness either. Y/N will do. I’m not particularly attached to my title as you can see.”

He chuckled heartily at your joke, cocking his hip forward and crossing his arms. “My, I’ve never met a noblewoman with such a good sense of humor.”

“You’ve met other noblewomen?” you asked perplexedly. You never expected the head chef of a pirate crew to have such connections.

“I used to work at a restaurant in the middle of the East Blue called the Baratie. It was very high class and had an extensive guest list of noblemen and commoners alike. Our motto was to never turn away anyone who was hungry.”

“That’s very admirable.” you complimented him. “Is cooking on a pirate ship your dream?” It was kind of a personal question, but conversation seemed to flow so easily between the two of you that you felt secure in asking it.

“Not exactly.” he laughed, leaning against the counter. “My dream is to find the All Blue. It’s a cook’s paradise, with a vast variety of ingredients from all four seas. I met our captain, Luffy, while working at the Baratie, and he offered me a spot on his crew. All of us are after something in this world, and Luffy wants to help us achieve our dreams.” He walked around the counter and reached for your hand. You gently placed it in his grasp, letting him squeeze it gingerly. “I’m sure if you talk to him, he’ll allow you to join as well.”

You smiled brightly, with such unbridled joy you thought you might burst. “Oh, thank you Sanji!” You couldn’t contain yourself any longer, and threw your arms around him in a tight hug.

He let out another contained gasp, then reciprocated your affections with a lighthearted chuckle. He pulled away after embracing you, putting his hands on your shoulders and looking you in the eyes.

“It’s no trouble, your highness. It’ll be nice to have another beautiful woman on board.” he grinned flirtatiously. “I’ll go fetch Captain Luffy.”

You nodded, watching him retreat into the hallway. “I told you, you don’t have to call me your highness.”

He paused in the doorway, looking over his shoulder at you. “I know. It just suits you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Being a princess doesn’t suit me at all.”

“Maybe not being a royal princess…” he proposed. “But perhaps you could be the princess of the Going Merry.”

——————

“A princess? You’re joking, right?” a female voice rang out down the hallway. You jumped in your seat at the counter, startled at the sudden break of silence.

“Oh man, I’ve gotta see this.” a gruff, sarcastic male voice commented.

“There’s no way she’s prettier than Kaya.” another, more lighthearted male voice added.

“Come now, just give her a chance.” you heard Sanji bargain with them. “You’ll like her Luffy. She’s got that certain spark, you know?”

You braced yourself for meeting the captain. You hadn’t seen any pirate captains in real life before, but the stories you read painted them as enourmous, swarthy men with long beards and dirty teeth. You gulped, gathering all of your courage to face the fearsome leader of the Going Merry.

The door swung open, and you locked eyes with the scrawny boy in the straw hat that you saw on the deck. Your eyes widened. He was the captain?

Sanji entered behind him, as well as the pretty ginger girl and the stoic swordsman you saw earlier, and a strong-looking, darker-skinned man as well.

Sanji smiled warmly as his eyes met yours. “Princess Y/N, it’s my pleasure to introduce you to the crew. This is our navigator Nami, our first-mate Zoro, warrior and storyteller Usopp, and finally… Captain Monkey D. Luffy.”

“Hi Y/N!” the captain beamed, stretching his hand out in front of him.

You just stared at it in confusion. No one had ever initiated a handshake with you. You didn’t even know how to reciprocate it. You began to panic. Were you already going to blow your chance at escaping?

Suddenly, Sanji gently picked up your arm and guided your hand towards Luffy’s. Luffy wrapped his fingers around your palm, thumb hooked with yours, and you did the same back to him. Sanji tilted your elbow up and down to shake the captain’s hand. You looked over at him, mouthing a silent thank you.

“So, I’m told you want to join the Straw Hat Crew?” Luffy asked with an excited grin. “Why’s that?”

You exhaled, collecting your thoughts before answering the captain. “Captain Luffy, as Sanji may have already told you, I am Princess Y/N, eldest daughter of the royal family of Dacovia. I’m about to be married against my will to a prince I don’t love, so I ran away from the castle. Soldiers are currently trying to hunt me back down. I know I was born into a life of immense privilege, but I don’t want to be a princess. I want to see the world and experience life as my own woman. I might not have a lot of skills that would be valuable on a pirate crew, but if you just allow me to stay with you, I can make it worth your while.” You opened up your purse and showed him all the gold that you had brought. Nami and Zoro’s eyes widened, but Luffy seemed unfazed.

“That’s very nice, but payment won’t be necessary.” Luffy smiled brightly. “The Going Merry is a ship of dreams. All of our crew is here to achieve their greatest desire.” He began to point to the members as he listed them. “Nami here wants to draw a map of the world. Zoro is gonna become the greatest swordsman in the world. Sanji will find the All Blue. Usopp there wants to be a brave warrior of the sea. And I…” He jumped up onto the counter and placed his hands on his hips dramatically. “Am gonna become King of the Pirates!” He knelt down and leaned towards you. “Do you believe in us?”

You looked between all the members of the crew. They all seemed so hopeful… so passionate… so brave… your eyes stopped on Sanji. As you looked into his icy blue eyes, you saw a certain sparkle that made you feel certain he would do anything to achieve his dream. Then you glanced back around at the rest of the crew, and saw that same optimistic glint in all of their eyes. You turned back to Luffy, meeting his determined gaze.

“Yes, I do. I believe that everyone in the Straw Hat Crew will do exactly what they set out to do.” you told him with a confident nod.

Luffy gave you the widest grin you’d ever seen, extending his arm towards you. “Then welcome aboard, your highness!”

Your face broke out in an overjoyed smile as you took Luffy’s hand. He pulled you up onto the countertop, making you gasp as he began dancing around with you. Usopp began cheering as well, while Nami let out an amused chuckle. Zoro cracked a content half-smile, which was huge for him.

Suddenly, your foot slipped off the edge of the counter, and you lost your balance. Now tumbling to the floor, your eyes widened as you envisioned your downfall. You squinted your eyes, waiting for the impact as everyone around you gasped worriedly.

Right as you expected to hit the ground, you landed softly in a cushiony embrace. Slowly creaking your eyes open, you were met by Sanji’s gorgeous blue eyes and charming smile hovering overtop of you.

“We’re gonna have to take it easy on her highness for a while guys.” he chuckled, shaking you in his arms playfully. Everyone joined the two of you in laughter, even Zoro.

“Speaking of which, we’re going to have to get you out of that gown.” Nami giggled. “Come with me, I’ll lend you some of my clothes.”

“We’ll get you some shoes when we get our supplies too.” Sanji assured you.

You glanced down at your bare feet. You didn’t know when you lost your other shoe, but you supposed it was useless without its mate anyway.

“Thank you all so very much.” you beamed, glancing between the crew members. “I am truly indebted to all of you.” You looked at Sanji again with admiration, as if to say especially you. He nodded, somehow understanding exactly what you meant.

——————

And so, you set off aboard the Going Merry as the newest member of the Straw Hat Crew!

It was a bit of an adjustment at first.

You shared a room with Nami, as she was the only other girl in the crew. She was a bit rough around the edges at first, but you were able to crack her tough exterior after a while. Deep down, she was actually very sweet and empathetic. Like you, she had just been through a lot. She was certainly glad to have another girl on board to help keep all the boys in line, and the two of you actually became quite close.

Usopp was always happy to entertain you with stories of his “grand adventures.” You had never heard tales of such whimsy and wonder with your stuffy background, and always listened intently and amazedly. Being away from Kaya, there wasn’t anyone else around who gave his stories much attention and awe. Though it wasn’t the same, he did derive a great happiness from your encounters.

Like Nami, Zoro was also pretty distant at first. You began to notice that everyone in the crew had some pretty thick trauma. However, you won him over by buying him plenty of liquor whenever you stopped somewhere with a bar. He also offered to teach you some general sword fighting moves when you expressed how worried you were about not being able to protect yourself. He acted as if it was no big deal, but you could tell he enjoyed having someone to fight with, even if it was just the basics.

Luffy was just as friendly with you as he was with everyone. He would regularly ask you about what your life was like a princess, and what kind of adventures you hoped to encounter at sea with him. You would often sit on the bow together, not having to worry about falling off, because you knew his rubber arms could stretch out and catch you no matter how far you flew. The two of you would gather up a bunch of snacks, courtesy of Sanji, and just talk through the night, staring up at the stars.

Then there was Sanji. He was definitely the member of the crew you were closest with. Not only was he the first one you met, but he was the one who understood your background the best. And, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t completely captivated by him. You knew it was silly, and that he was charming with just about every girl he met, but you couldn’t help but fall for him. It wasn’t just his perfect smile that made you melt, or his flirtatious attitude. It was his unyielding kindness and understanding. He was forever patient with you, never making you feel like a burden or an inadequate member of the crew.

You actually started out as his assistant, as the crew figured it would be the easiest thing for you to grasp as a newfound pirate. You loved hearing him talk about food and cooking. The passion and excitement in his voice was utterly captivating, and you could tell it all came from a place of genuine contentment. He was always encouraging with you in the kitchen, guiding your hands with his own as he taught you how to chop vegetables properly. You tried to ignore the way his breath blew against your neck, and how he smelled like fresh linen and tobacco, but it was kind of impossible when he was literally pressed up against your back.

Today, Sanji had given you the day off from kitchen duties, saying a pretty lady like yourself deserved to rest every once in a while. So, you were currently just sitting at the kitchen table, writing away in your journal. Finally having the freedom to dress yourself, you had traded your heels for combat boots and your ballgown for a simple white cotton dress and a black leather waist belt, your hair gathered back in one of Nami’s borrowed red bandanas. You had abandoned all of your fancy jewelry, except for a simple string of pearls and some small gold hoops in your ears.

You jumped as the door swung open, revealing a smiling blonde chef.

“Oh, Sanji!” you greeted him. “Would you like me to leave?”

“No, by all means, stay. I could use some good scenery.” he winked, going over to his counter. You couldn’t help the warm blush that crept up your cheeks. You tried to tell yourself it was just how he was, but that was proving to be a futile effort. “What are you doing anyway, my dear?”

“Oh nothing, just writing some poetry.” you explained, gesturing to your journal.

“Really? I didn’t know you wrote poetry.” he asked, beginning to boil some water. “My, you are just full of surprises, your highness.”

You laughed lightheartedly at his banter, slowly shaking off your bashfulness. “It’s just one of those princess habits I can’t seem to shake. I’ve been taught it from such a young age, it’s one of my only outlets. Sometimes I feel like it’s the only thing I’m good at.”

He frowned slightly, shaking his head. “Don’t say that, your highness. You’re good at a lot of things.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” you fished, rolling your eyes playfully.

“Well, for starters, you make a wonderful sous chef.” he grinned, peeling some potatoes. “I don’t think I could prepare Luffy’s monstrous portions without your help.”

You giggled, closing up your journal. “Well that’s mostly just you being a great teacher.”

Now it was Sanji’s turn to feel bashful, although he was great at covering it up. “Well, you’ve also got a great sense of humor. I don’t know anyone on the crew who hasn’t cracked up at one of your jokes. You even make Zoro laugh, and he’s a major stick in the mud.”

You chuckled at him, feeling slightly embarrassed at his praise. “Oh Sanji, now you’re just trying to butter me up like I’m one of your entrees.”

“Just being honest, princess.” he shrugged with a cocky smirk. “You’re also very selfless. You’ve been willing to sell a lot of your old jewelry just to get us some extra money for supplies.”

“Eh, I don’t need any of that stuff anymore.” you huffed, waving a hand in the air dismissively.

He set down his peeler and placed both hands flat on the counter, leaning forward and looking at you with a sudden intensity that made you freeze.

“You’re one of the bravest women I’ve ever met. How many princesses have ran away from their weddings and joined a pirate crew?”

You glanced down at the ground, fighting the urge to smile. “Not many, I believe.”

“I’d wager zero.” Sanji retorted. “You know what you want in life, and you’re not afraid to go after it. You’re smart, and kind, and beautiful, so I won’t have you meandering on about your so-called inadequacies, alright?”

You nodded with a small, shy grin. “Yes, chef.”

And on the flip of a dime, his same old playful demeanor returned, and he resumed preparing dinner. He plunked the peeled potatoes into the pot of water and moved onto slicing up the steak.

“I’d love to read your poetry sometime. I’m sure it’s just as lovely as you are.” he mused, glancing up at you momentarily.

“Oh I don’t know…” you muttered, fumbling with the journal in your hands. “I’m not sure it’s any good. The only one who’s ever read it is my governess.”

“Oh? And what did she think of it?” he asked interestedly.

You smiled fondly at the memory of her. “She always told me I was gifted. She was so kind, always commending me on my creativity and passion. She used to call me her poetry princess.”

“She sounds like an amazing lady.” Sanji commented. “Were you fond of her?”

“Oh, most definitely!” you marveled, spinning around in your chair to face him. “She was more of a mother than the queen ever was to me. She was the first person in the world who made me feel like I was more than just a decorative pawn in my father’s game of conquests.”

He chuckled lightly, beginning to prepare his skillet with butter and garlic. “Do you miss her?”

Your eyes landed on your lap as you tried to find the right words. “Very much…” You started to feel a lump form in your throat. It was hard to think about how you had abandoned her. You didn’t regret leaving the kingdom, but part of you did regret leaving her behind.

Sanji seemed to sense your inner turmoil, as he removed his skillet from the stove and walked around the counter towards you. He knelt down in front of you, hooking a finger under your chin and tilting it up to prompt you to meet his eyes.

“I know how difficult it is to leave someone you care for behind.” he explained sympathetically, looking at you with such soft kindness that you felt like you could burst into tears at any moment. “But the thing you have to remember is that they want what’s best for you. They want you to chase after your dreams and live the life you deserve. It might be hard to accept that they don’t need to be a part of it, but their love and hope for you is greater than that.” He brought a thumb up to your cheek to wipe away the stray tears that you didn’t even realize had fallen. “You did what you had to do. And I’m so glad you burst into my kitchen months ago, all tattered and panicked, begging for safe passage. Because the truth is…” He then placed both hands on your cheeks, giving you the warmest smile he’d ever given anyone. “It wouldn’t be the same without you, your highness.”

You smiled through your tears, placing your hands around his and giving them a delicate squeeze. “I’m so grateful for you Sanji. You’ve been so kind to me.”

He grinned contentedly. “It’s my pleasure, your highness.”

You stayed like that for a little while, just holding onto each others hands and smiling at each other. Suddenly, the mood shifted as you noticed his eyes focused on your lips. You mirrored his actions, glancing down at his own lips. They were plump and pretty, a beautiful shade of blush that had you in a trance. His tongue darted between them momentarily.

Your eyes locked in on his for a moment. They were shining with light-blue anticipation, the kind that gave you so much confidence and courage. Both of your eyes darted back to each others lips, and what seemed to be in unison, you began slowly inching forward. You fluttered your eyelids shut in preparation for the connection of your lips…

“Hey Sanji, what are you making for dinner?” Luffy suddenly asked from the doorway.

Sanji squinted his eyes together and let you a frustrated sigh. When he opened them, you shot him a sympathetic smile, one that hid your own discomfort and disappointment extremely well.

“Hey there captain. Tonight’s dinner is grilled steak strips, garlic roasted potatoes, and parmesan crusted asparagus.” Sanji huffed as he walked over to Luffy, who had a clueless grin on his face.

“Awesome! I can’t wait!” the captain beamed, hopping up on the counter. “Oh, hi Y/N! I didn’t see you there!”

“Hi Luffy.” you smiled politely. It was hard to be mad at him when he greeted you so cheerfully. “I was just about to head out, Nami said something about teaching me how to read a map.” you lied.

Sanji shot you a small pout. “Are you sure you have to leave? I could still use some help prepping the ingredients.” He was pleading at you with his eyes to stay. However, things were now too awkward with Luffy walking in on you guys almost kissing, and you just needed to leave the kitchen.

“It’s my day off, remember?” you replied cheekily, making your way over to the exit. “I’ll see you guys at dinner.”

——————

It had been a week since your almost-kiss with Sanji. Things were undeniably tense between the two of you. You were still friendly with him, and he was as flirtatious as he always was. But you both knew you were avoiding a huge elephant in the room, and neither one of you knew how to bring it up without making things uncomfortable.

It was currently the middle of the night, and you were laying in your hammock-bed staring at the wooden ceiling of you and Nami’s shared bedroom. You were having yet another sleepless night. Every time you started to drift off, you’d immediately be reminded of how you were so close to kissing the guy of your dreams.

You glanced over to Nami’s side of the room, hoping to see her restless so you could talk to her about your dilemma. She was the only one on the crew who knew about your enormous crush on Sanji. However, she was sound asleep in her own hammock.

You exhaled a heavy breath, then threw your blankets off your legs and stood up to leave the room. You obviously weren’t going to fall asleep anytime soon, so you figured you’d stretch your legs a bit.

You ended up crawling your way up into the crow’s nest, as there was currently no one else on deck. You leaned back against the hard, cold wood and gazed up at the stars. It was amazing to think that these were the same stars you looked at from your ivory tower months ago. They seemed so much brighter over the sea.

To fill the silence, you decided to sing one of the songs your governess taught you. You formed a habit of singing it to yourself whenever you were stressed or feeling hopeless. It made you feel calm and grounded.

You tried to be quiet, as everyone else was asleep, but as the song went on you couldn’t help but put more passion into your song. You had always loved singing since you were a child.

Finally your song came to an end, and you were startled by the sound of applause. Your head snapped around to the edge of the crow’s nest. There was Sanji, clapping his hands with an admiring smile.

“You have a lovely voice, princess.” he complimented you, hopping over the barrier to sit down next to you.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” you asked, concerned you were singing loud enough to wake the whole crew.

“No, not at all! I was up making myself a late night snack. It helps when I’m having trouble falling asleep.” he explained.

He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it up, taking a long drag before exhaling the smoke. He held one out to you. “Want one?”

You studied it, debating whether or not you wanted it. “I’m not sure, I’ve never smoked before.”

“Here, you can try a puff of mine. See if you like it.” he grinned, handing you his lit cigarette. You cautiously brought it to your lips and began to suck on it. “Just make sure you don’t-“

But he was too late. You were already coughing up a storm, hunched over and pounding on your chest.

“Inhale…” he finished with a chuckle, patting your back .

“God Sanji, how do you smoke those?” you hacked out between coughs. “It’s disgusting, I’m throwing this out!”

“No don’t!” he pleaded, reaching for the cigarette.

But you were too fast, throwing it over the edge of the crow’s nest before he could grab it.

He just looked at you with his mouth agape, the corners of his mouth tilted up in a baffled smirk. “That wasn’t very princess-like of you. I’m starting to think this pirates life is rubbing off on you.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes as he just pulled another one out of his pocket and lit it up. “So, you couldn’t sleep either hm?” you asked, tilting your head curiously.

He shook his head. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, your highness.”

You chuckled, nudging him with your elbow. “Same here. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about what happened, but I just…”

“Couldn’t find the right words?” he finished your sentence for you.

You nodded, putting your head in your hands and laughing in disbelief at how easily he could read you. “Exactly.”

He leaned back up against the barrier to join you in looking up at the night sky, seemingly in thought. You suddenly felt brave enough to lay your head on his shoulder. You could feel him smiling down at you as you cuddled up closer to him.

“Well, who says we need words?” he asked, turning his head towards you. “Actions speak louder sometimes.”

“Hm?” you asked, sitting up to face him.

He put out his cigarette and tilted your chin up with his forefinger, prompting you to look up at him. He just looked over your features for a moment, taking in the sight before him.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” he told you in an uncharacteristically serious voice. His eyes were like cornflower pools of commendation, fixed upon you with unrelenting intensity.

You just stared back at him, mouth slightly agape at the sudden intimacy of the moment. “Thank you, Sanji…”

“I mean it.” he told you, looking you straight in the eye. “But your beauty is only a fraction of what makes you special. I mean, you’re a talented writer, a beautiful singer, an amazing aspiring chef and swordsman, a good joke-teller, and a selfless, loyal pirate… Is there anything you can’t do, your highness?”

At that moment, it was like a cupid’s arrow had shot you straight through the heart. As a princess, you were always taught that the most important thing for you to be was beautiful. Not smart, not kind, not creative. Your only job was to sit still and look pretty. But with Sanji, all of that was thrown out the window. You got to express every part of your personality that you’d had to hold back for so many years. It was freeing, and it made you feel like your existence was truly meaningful to someone.

Before anyone could possibly interrupt you, you took your chance and pulled him towards you by his black neck tie, crashing your lips against his with everything you had. There was an element of softness to it, but it was just intense enough that he could feel how long you had desired to press your lips to his.

He was frozen for only a second or two, then he gingerly placed a hand upon your cheek, gripping onto it slightly to deepen the kiss.

After a while he pulled back to catch his breath, forehead pressed against yours as you both panted heavily.

“You can add amazing kisser to the list of things you’re good at.” he smirked, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

You giggled, placing your hand over his. “With you around, my list will become a mile long.”

“As it should be.” he told you, going back in for another kiss. This one was more passionate, his free hand moving to your waist to hold you in place. Your hands went up to his shoulders, gripping onto them tightly as if you could fly away at any second.

His tongue brushed against the parting of your lips as if asking for safe passage, which you granted him by sliding your own under his. He tasted like rum and vanilla, equal parts bitter and sweet with a touch of tobacco, and you couldn’t get enough of it.

“I really like you, Sanji.” you suddenly confessed, not being able to hold it back any longer.

He held your face in his hands, looking at you in pure amazement, searching for any possible sign that you might be joking. “Do you mean it, your highness?”

You nodded, swallowing the lump that was beginning to form in your throat. This was it. This was the part where he would either refuse or accept your feelings.

“I like you a lot too, Y/N.” he smiled warmly, pulling you into his lap. He began frantically kissing you all over your face and neck, making you giggle and feign resistance.

For the remainder of the night, the seagulls and pelicans were the only ones who heard the laughter of two pirates exchanging kisses from the crows nest. They both ended up falling asleep curled up in each others arms, causing the rest of the crew to tease them lovingly in the morning.

[dollwrites]

‘𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 — 𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐳𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐲𝐜𝐤

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), dub con, fem!bride!reader, kidnapping / forced domestication, loss of virginity, mentions of murder, blood and threats against reader, objectification / mild degradation, size kink, forced breeding kink / creampie, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. thanks for reading < 3

𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 ∣ sex doll by nathan james

your instructions were all very clear, and very specific, but you found yourself struck speechless when he appeared. lightning scattered webs of silver across the night sky, thunder shook the entire mansion, and then he was standing there, on the balcony, just outside the crystal doors. your breath caught in your throat as he stares inside, dark eyes zeroed in on you, and one hand reaches for the latch. a gust of wind catches the unlocked glass and flings it inwards towards you, banging against the wall— the hinges creak, but hold. you flinch, startled, and stumble back, but he’s inside and across the room to stand before you in the blink of an eye, without so much as time to allow a droplet of rain from his inky tendrils to fall beforehand.

“I recognize you.”

he must; the pearly white chiffon of your gown was tattered and stained a muted rust— dried blood. what had become of your veil or your shoes were unbeknownst to you, forgotten when you hid underneath the altar and clamped a hand over your mouth to not alert the mass murderer of your presence whilst he slaughtered the entire wedding party.

of course, he’d been privy all along, and simply bent over to peek inside at you once he was finished. black eyes were devoid of any remorse, but he didn’t try to reach and pull you out, or kill you. he simply stared for a moment or two, probably listening to the sound of you sobbing and begging him not to hurt you, and then straightened without so much as a whisper, and left.

it wasn’t until after you’d crawled out and witnessed the carnage that you’d been taken.

you hardly hear it— the savage thumping of your nervous heart much too loud in your ears, as is the way you suck in a desperate gulp. “I— I—“ think, dammit. but, where had your thoughts gone? had they, along with your ability to breathe, been stolen?

“Who left you in here?” the assassin’s expression wasn’t soft, but it was understanding. as if he knew that someone as meek as you would have trouble being this close to him. yet, still expectant of answer. “You didn’t make it to my bedroom by yourself.”

“Your f—father.” you don’t recognize your voice when it leaves your lips, it’s much too soft a whisper. then again, there was no need for you to be any louder than that; he was so close that you could smell the fresh rain in his hair. “He says…” the words Silva used were embarrassing and horrible, but you were told to recite them verbatim. and so you do. “He says that since you didn’t finish the job, he kept your compensation. The only payment you’re allowed is…” your voice was starting to shake.

“You.” Illumi finishes for you, staring down with an unreadable, abysmal gaze, and his head slowly tilts, as if he’s starting to understand, or, perhaps, ponder the possibilities. “Hm.”

you’re relieved for some reason, when he turns away and struts to the other side of the room. you feel like you can breathe for a moment while his back is turned.

but only for a single moment.

because that oxygen is wrenched away from you the second he peels out of his wet shirt, allowing it to fall in a damp heap on the floor. “W— what are you—“ your cheeks were hot, but you felt as though your feet were frozen solid to the floor, unable to move even an inch, you watched him undress. your eyes grazed over the dips in his abdomen when he turns, partially, to face you. each pad of muscle is blanketed artfully in ivory flesh with ribbons of rain dribbling from the raven tips that cascade over his shoulders and tickle his belly. “What are you doing?”

“Undressing.” he said, incredibly simply. you could see that much. but, you were more concerned that he was doing it right in front of you. his hands fall to his waistband, and he makes short work of it, allowing his trousers to join the other garments. this is when you look away, when he’s stark naked. you want to hide behind both hands, but you’re much too in shock to command your muscles to move. “You’ll be expected to get used to my naked body if you’re going to be my pet.” you feel a tight, cold grip around your wrist and the need to jerk back overwhelms you, but he’s stronger and holds you there. when did he cross the room to come back to you? it didn’t matter; it seemed like when Illumi moved, he did so on clouds. he was silent and quick. guiding your trembling fingers to his abdomen, he presses your palm flat. you can feel the solid muscle that’s been built over years of harsh training beneath his skin.

“P—pet…” you whisper, hopelessly.

“If you prefer bride, I can call you that.” Illumi offers, flippant, and drags your hand down to his sex. the suddenness in which he forces your fingers to envelop the girth of his soft cock elicits a whimpered protest, one that has him twitching against your fingers. “It makes no difference to me. Property is property.” for a while, Illumi allows your fist to rest there, giving you time to familiarize with the sensation of him in your palm. he didn’t even force you to watch— not minding that you kept your eyes closed tight and your chin tucked into your chest. “How should I have you first?” inquiring aloud, Illumi takes hold of your fingers and glides them up the length of his cock, pressing the tips against the sensitive slit, and snorts through his nose in approval, before pushing your hand back down to his base, guiding you into a steady, stroking rhythm that had him hardening against your palm. “Should I put you on your knees and have you worship my cock? Etch prayers into it with your tongue?”

your cheeks were even hotter now, teeth sinking into your plush, lower lip as you shied away from his words. you knew he was watching your reaction, and he must’ve read it instantly. “I’d have to teach you, I suppose,” he replies, as if mildly disappointed, “and I’m in no mood to tutor right now. he lets out a soft sigh, releasing your hand, “it would be easier to put you on your back.” your hand slows to a stop, eyes opening wide when you realize his intentions, and his now rock hard cock throbs in your fist. both of his hands came up to frame your face now, tilting it up, forcing you to stare into his obsidian gaze. “I didn’t tell you to stop stroking.” he croons, and the atmosphere around you felt like it weighed a ton, bearing down on your shoulders. you were locked in his stare, with his lips moving inches away from yours, but you found the will to pump him again, your couplet trembling. “It would be very stupid for you to disobey me,” he purrs, and takes a daunting step closer, forcing you to back up. and another, and then another. “I’m glad you know that, at least.”

he had grown in your hand, and now his cock was thick and solid, and it took both hands to wrap around him. Illumi took a final step towards you, and when you stumbled back this time, the backs of your knees hit the foot of the bed and bent; you clamored backwards on to it. there was a split second where you worried that Illumi’s cock would slip from your hands, but he was right there, climbing atop the mattress and atop you, before you had time to think. his hands never even slipped from your cheeks, until his knees pried a gap between your legs that he could fit into.

“Hold your legs open.”

grateful that you could stop stroking, your hands fled to grab on to your thighs, spreading them apart with shame written over your features. you couldn’t look at him any longer, and turn your head against the pillow.

Illumi blinks, one brow quirking, before flipping the skirt of your gown up on to your belly, exposing your panties. you were embarrassed to admit that you could feel the wet patch that had grown against the cotton even before he pressed the cold pads of his first, two fingers against it. you whimper, and writhe. “Wet already?” he asks, rubbing against the fabric until you tremble and start to inch up the mattress, desperate to get away from the sensation, but one hand grabs your ankle and jerks you back down to him in a swift, rough motion. your dress scrunches up around your waist. “Stay put.”

you know better than to fight against it, even when he wrenches your panties down, but your heart is revving like an engine, your breath hard to catch. you’re so afraid that this man, this murderer, is going to damage your body simply because he can. that he’ll hurt you in the most intimate ways possible, and there would be no one to save you from his cruelty.

“Look at it.”

you could feel the broad, pink tip, prodding against your virgin netherlips and you gasp for air, but turn your head slowly back towards him. you didn’t want to look. you didn’t want to see your assault happen. but you do because you don’t have another choice. “P—please…”

Illumi doesn’t push himself inside just yet. holding tight at the base of his cock, his hips only hardly jut forward, applying enough pressure for your folds to spread. then, he starts in a nonchalant, but certain voice. “I’m going to fuck your little pussy deep, and hard.” you didn’t even realize you were shaking your head, but you stared at his size, nervously. you couldn’t imagine that thing fitting in your body, but he continues, as if solidifying his threats. “You’ll feel every, single inch. You can scream as loud as you want, cry as much as you want, but you keep your legs wide and accept me. Keep your eyes open and watch me fuck you. If you don’t, your stay here will shorten tremendously. Nod if you understand.”

you can’t look up at his face, eyes glued to the manhood ready to split you in half, and you swallow hard around the lump in your throat, before you give him half a nod. you can do this, you tried to tell yourself. it’ll only hurt for a second.

when he forces it inside, you lose your breath completely, yelping when, inch by inch, the thick cock disappears. there’s a sharp, sudden pressure in your depths, and you know this must be the severing of your innocence. “If you get any blood on my sheets, I’ll wrap them around your neck and squeeze.” he mutters, low and threatening. you knew he wasn’t lying.

you mewl, and your nails sink into your own, fleshy thighs to grip tighter. you don’t want to break any of his rules. Illumi moans, for the first time, when he’s completely nested to the hilt, one hand reaching for your neck. he doesn’t squeeze, thankfully, but he grips it to pin you against the bed, while the other gropes your breast through the ivory bust. he’s still staring, watching how you flinch and whine as you struggle to accommodate him. “You’re a tight, little thing.” he doesn’t sound particularly happy or disappointed by the fact, but he punctuates the statement with a strong rock of his hips, slamming himself home. your back arches, and you cry out, mouth hanging slack, at just how much force was behind each slow, deep thrust.

he hadn’t been bluffing.

you could feel every, thick inch as your walls stretch and spasm around him, flittering wildly against the pulsing veins that bulge and scrape against your sensitivity. his bulbous tip pummels knotted nerves relentlessly until you feel tears well up in your eyes. whether it’s pain or pleasure, you can’t tell the difference.

Illumi starts to look, and sound, more human with each thrust— his lids sag low, his jaw works, and he snorts through his nose. you could even see a faint twinkle of perspiration against his temple. he’s hunched forward, hovering above, pressing his forehead to yours. his wet hair draping over you like a black curtain, engulfing you in his scent, making it hard to see anything except what he wanted you to. which was him, decimating you. “You look pathetic, bleary eyed and whiny,” he started, his breath in warm puffs against the cold tears on your cheeks. each word seems is separated by the sensation of him pounding into you, the sound of his body slapping against yours, and your own slick squelching hideously. “But you’re still taking it.” he almost sounds… impressed? “Your little pussy is stretched to her limit, but she’s still milking me. Who could’ve known? Behind those tears, there’s a cock-starved, little fuck doll?”

it was humiliating, degrading, but for some reason— you only clenched around him tighter. you only felt yourself get wetter when his hand careens upwards to grasp your face, keeping it steady as he bullied your guts. your mouth hung open, and just as you’d been given permission to, you let out a lilting shriek. your legs were starting to shake. but, you could also tell that something was building inside of Illumi, too.

it didn’t take a genius to figure out what it was.

realizing he had no intentions of pulling out, you squirm, and your hands fall between your bodies to press against his taut abdomen, whimpering a breathy, “Please— don’t— not… inside…”

but Illumi didn’t stop. he didn’t pull out. he rammed into you just as hard, and your breasts jiggle against the sagging neckline of your dress. you croak, hoarse, and stare up at him, squinting against his cruelty. “You’re my bride, aren’t you?” he croons, dark eyes expecting ( and receiving ) a submissive, yet reluctant nod. “Then act like it. Beg me to breed you.”

sniffling, your nails barely scrape at his flesh, and you gurgle a soft and pathetic, wet eyes full of protest, “P—please… breed me… Cum in me… please, Illumi—“

Illumi groans in approval, a wicked smile spreading across his tiers when he comes undone. both of his hands wrap around your throat now, and he buries himself as deep as he can force to pump you full of his warm release. even as you snub and squirm and gurgle, you can feel how full you are of him, and it’s a sickening feeling.

he’s released you a few moments later, favoring his side of the massive bed, and you remain on your back, legs open and quivering, core feeling hollowed out and sore, for a while before he murmurs, “You’ll need to tend to my wet clothes, and do away with that tattered dress, before you can rest.”

blinking, you take a couple of breaths before slowly closing your legs. the muscles are aching, and you have to do everything at a snail’s pace, including pulling yourself off the mattress. when your feet hit the cold, hard floor, your knees want to buckle. you’re wobbly at best, one hand gripping your lower belly as you let out a whispered cry discomfort. the bridal gown hangs askew on your body, now stained with more than just blood and sweat, and you stumble, awkward on your own, two legs, over to the pile of wet clothes. gathering them all up, you hug them close to your chest and turn to look at him, meek and bashful. how hopeless you must appear to him in this moment. “What do I… what do I do with them?”

Illumi looks at you, unblinking, and runs his fingers through his hair as he props up on his elbow. he’s shameless in the way he’s splayed, nude across the bed, his soft cock draped over his thigh. “The butler will meet you at the door, he’ll show you the laundry and where to bathe and dress.” he tilts his head, watching you stumble, still disoriented and uncertain, towards the door. you can’t really see it in the dark, but there’s a faint fondness in the depth of his eyes. “Hurry back, too.”

curious, you nibble on your lower lip and push the door open. just as he’d said, a tall man clad in a crisp suit is waiting on the other side. there’s a glimmer of distaste for how filthy you are as he sees you, but it’s gone in an instant as he grabs hold of your elbow, none too gentle. you look over your shoulder at Illumi, and blurt out before the man can drag you away, “Aren’t you worried I might r— run away or something?”

the worst part about Illumi’s smile is that his eyes turned icy and diabolical when his lips curved upwards; the two counterparts didn’t match. “And go to whom?” he asks, taunting, before adding simply because he could: “I killed everyone that knew or cared about you already, remember?”

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

always the bridesmaid | rúben dias

💐synopsis: This is Elena’s 5th time being a bridesmaid. She considers herself a professional now, and knows all the important bridesmaid rules, like: throw a perfect bachelorette party, always have tissues and lipstick ready, never overshadow the bride, and last but not least: stay away from the groomsmen. warnings: mostly fluff, flirting and a tiny bit of smut. also alcohol consumption (W.C. 4k)

Always The Bridesmaid

At first, it was her older sister, Elisa, who got married in January, in a freezing cold winter wedding. Elena wore an elegant blue velvet dress. Then, in the spring, it was her cousin Luisa's turn to tie the knot. Elena wore yellow. Now, it’s Ines, her childhood best friend, who’s standing in front of her, as she tries on an olive green silk dress.

“It looks perfect on you!” Ines gleams, her big doe eyes focused on the fabric. They seem to be shining brighter everyday as the wedding day gets closer.

It’s Elena’s third wedding this year. Her fifth as a bridesmaid. She feels like a professional now, and you bet this is a hell of a job. Dress fittings, bridal shower, bachelorette party, rehearsal dinner… All of that while the protagonist of the show is probably freaking out. And it’s the bridesmaid job to make sure it all goes smoothly.

For Elena, a personal rule she created was to stay away from men during the event, especially the single groomsmen who acted like it was a big call of destiny the fact that they were both single at a wedding—and also the perfect chance to get laid. It wasn’t. 

Elena had a job, she couldn’t afford distractions. She needed tissues and lipstick ready at all times. She had to make sure the bride was enjoying the party. She had to make sure guests wouldn't kill each other over a bouquet.

“Ivory or Pearl?” Ines is holding two pairs of Dior shoes, one on each side of her head.

Elena thinks they look identical, but it’s important to have an opinion. “Ivory!” She says, not knowing which one it is.

Ines seemed to be happy with her decision, now holding only one pair, gently nodding at the shoes.

“Alright, Ivory it is. This is it.” The blonde looks up to her friend. “These are the shoes I’m getting married with.” Ines has a big smile on her face, but Elena catches the glimpse of anxiety reaching her eyes.

“You’re going to look perfect, cutie.” Elena hugs her friend tightly. “You always looked like a princess, and now with the pregnancy glow you’re even prettier!”

“You think so? I’m so worried about it…”

“It’s not just me! Everybody I speak with is commenting, you’re the prettiest mom-to-be in the world. Relax, everything will be perfect, trust me.”

Elena manages to soothe the worries away for the time being. The next time she sees that look on her friend's face, they’re in Miami, after the bachelorette party.

They’re in a spacious and luxurious hotel room, most of their friends passed out around them. Some on the bed, some on the sofa, Mariana, the sister’s bride, is passed out in an armchair. Elena and Ines are the only ones still awake, the only ones that didn’t consume a drop of alcohol that night.

“Please,” Ines speaks softly, trying not to disturb the others, and Elena becomes worried for a second. “promise me you will have fun at my wedding.”

Elena giggles, not understanding the extent of Ines concerns.

“Of course, you don’t have to ask!”

They’re wearing almost identical pink bathrobes, with the only difference being the embroidery specifying who’s the bride.

“I’m serious, please. It doesn't make sense for me to have all this work throwing a perfect party if my friends are not enjoying themselves. You didn’t even drink today!”

“That’s because…” But Elena doesn't have an excuse that would satisfy her friend, she knows it, so she goes quiet, staring once again at the exhausted sleeping bodies of their girlfriends, some still with their makeup on. Glittery dresses and heels still by their sides.

“The entire point of the ceremony is to be a celebration of love. You need to celebrate with me, girl.”

Elena giggles again, this time shyly.

“Okay, I will. Promise.” 

The big day arrived in the blink of an eye. A sunny Saturday. Elena stood at the edge of the sprawling vineyard estate, her eyes drinking in the sight of rows upon rows of lush grapevines that stretched as far as the eye could see. The warm Portuguese sun bathed the landscape in a golden glow, casting long shadows that danced playfully across the ground. She took a deep breath, the scent of earth and grapes mingling in the air, and smiled to herself. Ines had truly outdone herself with the venue choice.

She adjusted the thin strap of her previous mentioned olive green silk sundress, her fingers grazing the pendant at her neck as she glanced around. The pre-wedding festivities were in full swing, with guests mingling and laughter echoing through the air. Elena knew she should be socializing, but she found herself lost in her thoughts, the hum of excitement around her fading into the background.

A loud crash jolted her from her trance, and she turned toward the source of the commotion. A waiter stood beside a shattered tray of champagne flutes, his expression a mix of embarrassment and frustration. And there, amidst the wreckage, stood a man in a perfectly tailored suit, his hand outstretched toward the fallen glasses.

Rúben Dias.

Elena didn't know him in person yet, but she had seen enough photos to recognize Ines’ fiancé's coworker – and one of the groomsmen. He was tall, with a disheveled charm that contrasted sharply with his crisp attire. His hair was casually tousled, as if he had been running his fingers through it, and his mischievous grin suggested that he was well-acquainted with trouble.

She watched as he exchanged a few words with the flustered waiter, he looks shy but has an easy going demeanor that diffuses the tension in the air. As he crouched down to help gather the broken glass, his eyes met Elena's. There was a brief pause, as if time had frozen, and Elena felt a flutter in her chest that she couldn't quite explain.

Rúben straightened up, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer before he turned back to the waiter. Elena looked away, her heart pounding inexplicably fast. What was that? She scolded herself inwardly, cussing her own tendency to overanalyze every fleeting interaction.

Just as she was about to move away and find a quieter corner to observe from, a voice behind her made her jump.

"Elena! There you are!"

She turned to find Mariana approaching, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Ines' sister enveloped her in a tight hug, her energy infectious.

"You're not hiding, are you?" Mariana teased, gesturing to the lively crowd.

Elena chuckled, her nerves momentarily forgotten. "No, just taking in the view. This place is incredible."

Mariana beamed. "I'm so glad you like it. And guess who's here?"

Before Elena could respond, Mariana's attention shifted to someone behind her. Elena turned, her heart doing a little flip as she found herself face to face with Rúben once again. He had approached without her noticing, his grin disarmingly charming.

"Elena, this is Rúben," Mariana said, her voice filled with second intentions. "Rúben, meet one of the bridesmaids, Elena."

Elena extended her hand, trying to appear composed despite the rapid pace of her heart. "Nice to meet you, Rúben."

Rúben's handshake was warm, his gaze holding hers just a fraction longer than necessary. "Nice to meet you too. Ines has been talking about you nonstop."

Mariana rolled her eyes playfully. "I'm sure you've got a lot to catch up on. I'll leave you two to chat."

As Mariana drifted away to greet other guests, Elena and Rúben were left standing together in an awkward silence. The breeze ruffled her hair, and she tucked a loose strand behind her ear, cursing the sudden self-consciousness that had taken over her.

This was part of her bridesmaid routine, the part she despised the most. Being introduced to the single groosman. This time the already awkward by nature situation was made worse by her own nerves. He was affecting her in a way nothing outside of her to-do-list should be allowed to.

Rúben cleared his throat, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he offered her a lopsided smile. "So, bridesmaid, huh? You must be the one keeping everything running smoothly."

Elena chuckled, relieved by him starting up the small talk. "Trying my best. Though I can't take credit for the broken glasses."

Rúben laughed, the sound genuine and infectious. "Ah, that was my little contribution to the festivities."

Lucky for her, something else grabs her attention. A ring on her phone and she finds the perfect excuse to run away from him.

“If you excuse me, I need to check on the bride.”

Ines looked beautiful, a princess, just like Elena had told her. One her face there was a whirlwind of excitement and nervous energy. The ceremony was about to start and the friends exchanged final looks as they walked together to the venue, where the groom was already standing, waiting.

The ceremony took place beneath a stunning pergola adorned with white flowers, with rows of rustic chairs facing the vineyard's picturesque backdrop. The guests were seated, and the bridal party lined up, each bridesmaid holding a posy bouquet of bright yellow sunflowers and burgundy blooms. Elena stood beside Ines, who looked positively radiant in her flowing Elie Saab gown and Ivory shoes.

Even surrounded by photographers, Elena still tried as hard as she could, to take a mental picture of how her friend looked. She wanted to remember that day forever.

She didn’t consider herself a hopelessly romantic, but she loved her friend dearly and as she adjusted her hair, she couldn't help but feel a mixture of joy and anticipation. Today was the day her best friend would marry the love of her life, and Elena was determined to make it perfect.

As the ceremony began, the atmosphere was filled with a sense of love and celebration. The sun bathed everything in a warm glow, and a light breeze rustled the leaves, creating a melodic backdrop to the vows being exchanged. Elena's heart swelled with happiness for her friend, and she couldn't help stealing glances at Rúben, who stood by the groom's side, looking handsome in his suit.

“Today, we are gathered here to celebrate the love between Ines and Bernardo.” The officiant led the couple through their vows and the two lovebirds exchanged rings.

Glasses were raised, and laughter filled the air. Dinner was served, a delectable spread of dishes that showcased the region's finest flavors. 

Just like in a fairytale, magically, the afternoon turned into nighttime. The entire venue was lit in candlelight and twinkling fairy lights. The loud, rhythmic pop music blasting on the dance floor announced the final stage of the party.

At that point, Elena only had one thing in her mind: to keep her promise to the newlywed and have fun.

She finds herself walking up to Rúben, her pink bubbly cocktail raised in his direction.

"A toast! To shattered glass and unforgettable entrances!"

“Unforgettable?” He chuckles, toasting with her. “You shouldn’t feed my ego.”

“Or what?” Elena teases, trying to get him out of his cool and collected pose. He should be out of his suit jacket by now, Elena thinks to herself.

There’s a sparkle in his eyes when she says that, a mischievous glint and he changes his demeanor. Now that he knows she’s flirting, he looks more confident. The neon party lights cast playful shadows across his features, accentuating his sun-kissed skin. He sets his wine glass down and steps closer to her.

Elena’s heart skips a bit and she takes another sip of her cocktail to steady herself.

Rúben’s lips curl into a flirtatious grin, and he leans in slightly. "You know," He starts, his voice a low murmur that seems meant only for her ears, "I've always believed that unforgettable entrances deserve equally unforgettable follow-throughs."

Elena can feel the heat of the moment between them, the unspoken tension that hangs between their words and gazes. She can't help but notice how close they are now, the space between them filled with a magnetic pull that's hard to ignore. Her heart races as she locks eyes with him, her breath catching in her throat. The air between them feels charged, and she's aware of the way her pulse quickens under his gaze.

"Oh really?" she replies, a mixture of curiosity and anticipation in her voice. Her mind races with the possibilities of what he might be hinting at.

Their conversation is abruptly interrupted by a well known voice in the microphone, announcing to the guests that the bride will be throwing the bouquet. It’s Mariana, who’s hushing all the single ladies to the middle of the dance floor.

“You’re not going?” Rúben questions when he notices her lingering behind.

“God no!” Elena waves her hand in front of her face, looking in disgust at her friend's excitement. “I’m done with weddings for a while.”

“Why is that?”

They’re both facing the scene, standing close enough to watch but away enough to be safe from the danger zone. They’re leaning against a table, with Rúben arm behind her. He’s as close to her as he thinks he’s allowed.

The suit jacket is gone now and so is his tie. 

“This is my third wedding this year. My fifth being a bridesmaid.” Elena whispers in his ear, like it’s a secret. 

“And you’re not interested in being the bride?” Rúben 's voice is playful.

Elena lets out a soft chuckle, her gaze lingering on the bouquet-tossing commotion. 

“I hate being the center of attention. I prefer being a spectator.”

Rúben 's lips quirk into a half-smile. “Being the center of attention isn't so bad, you know.”

Elena turns her head to meet his gaze, her eyes sparkling with amusement. As they watch the bouquet fly through the air, Elena's heart flutters with a mix of emotions. The playful banter between her and Rúben feels like a secret language shared only between them. The atmosphere is charged with the electric tension of possibility, and in that moment, Elena wonders if this night will indeed end with an "unforgettable follow-through" that Rúben had hinted at earlier.

The bouquet is caught by a guest, and the cheers grow even louder. The music shifts and the lively beats of early 2000s pop hits return to fill the venue with an infectious energy. Rúben's gaze flickers from Elena to the dance floor and back again.

“Would you give me the honor?” His lips curl into a teasing grin, and he playfully extends his hand toward her while Britney Spears' voice fills the air, adding to the carefree ambiance.

Elena chuckles, her heart light as she matches his flirtatious demeanor. With a playful twirl of her fingers, she accepts his invitation, placing her hand in his. 

Elena and Rúben share a dance that feels like a continuation of the banter and chemistry they've been building throughout the night. Each twirl, each step, brings them closer together.

Lost in the moment, she doesn't immediately register when the music changes to a slow romantic melody. Elena feels Rúben's hand on her back, the touch both gentle and reassuring. Instinctively, she places her hand on his shoulder, their bodies moving together in the timeless intimacy of a slow dance. The world around them seems to fade into the background.

She feels the rise and fall of his chest against her. His voice broke the tranquil silence that had settled over them. His words are a soft murmur against her ear.

“I wonder what the view of the vineyard is like at night.” he muses, his tone carrying a subtle implication.

Elena meets his gaze, the way he phrases his words is more than just casual curiosity; it's an invitation, a suggestion of something more private, more intimate. In that moment, she senses the desire that lingers just beneath the surface, a magnetic pull that draws them closer together.

Time seems to warp and twist, the boundaries between moments blurring as they suddenly find themselves standing in front of her hotel room. The electric tension that has been building between them since that first broken glass is palpable in front of her. 

Elena wonders if she even said goodbye to the bride and groom, the world outside of their shared space feeling distant and unreal.

Rúben’s gaze is intense, his eyes holding a mixture of longing and tenderness. The quiet of the hotel corridor feels like a crossroads, a moment that holds the potential to change everything.

Elena meets his gaze, her heart pounding in her chest. She takes a small step closer, the space between them narrowing until it's almost nonexistent. Her voice is a soft murmur, the vulnerability she feels matching the intimacy of the moment.

"I don't even know if I said goodbye to Ines and Bernardo." she admits, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

Rúben's lips curl into a knowing smile, his fingers brushing against her hand in a gentle caress. "I think they'll understand."

His fingers gently intertwine with hers and they walk inside.

"You are so beautiful," Rúben breathes, his words a delicate confession that sends a shiver of warmth through her. His gaze is intense, his eyes tracing the contours of her face as though committing every detail to memory.

Before Elena can respond, his lips find the corner of her mouth in a tender kiss. It's a soft, fleeting touch that ignites a spark between them, a promise of more to come. The flutter of his kisses continues along the curve of her lips, each delicate press deepening the connection they share.

Her heart pounds in her chest as he finally parts her lips, and their mouths meld together in a passionate kiss. It's a collision of desire, a joining of two souls that have been drawn together throughout the night. The taste of him is electrifying, his warmth a contrast to the cool air of the room.

Rúben's hand moves to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulls her gently. The sensation sends a thrill down her spine, and she gasps, the sound mingling with the sigh of pleasure that escapes her lips.

Their tongues meet in a dance that's as old as time, an exploration that's both tentative and hungry. It's a fusion of desire and yearning, a dance that sweeps them into a world of their own making. The sensation is dizzying, their connection intensifying with every passing second.

Elena's senses are overwhelmed – the taste of his kiss, the warmth of his touch, the intoxicating scent of him filling the air. The world narrows down to the two of them, lost in a moment that defies time and space. And as they finally break the kiss, their breaths mingling in the quiet space between them, she's left in awe, surprised there's any oxygen left in the room.

His fingers move from her hair to her back. As he traces the line of her spine, a shiver of pleasure courses through her, and she arches her back in response, a silent invitation for more.

Rúben's touch is both tender and confident, his fingers moving in a slow and deliberate rhythm against her skin. The sensation sends ripples of pleasure through her, her body responding instinctively to his touch. She can feel the weight of his gaze on her, a mixture of desire and concern that adds to the intensity of the moment.

"Is this okay?" he asks, his voice a low murmur that resonates with care and consideration.

Elena nods eagerly, her eyes locked with his in a silent affirmation. The desire that simmers between them is undeniable, a magnetic pull that draws them closer with every passing second.

Encouraged by her response, Rúben's touch continues, his fingers wrapping around her waist in a possessive yet gentle hold. 

As they stand there, locked in a moment that's both electric and intimate, Elena can't help feeling thankful for Ines and her kind words, ‘promise me you will have fun’.

Rúben kneels on the floor, kissing her ankle as he takes her heels off. Her dress is lost somewhere in the room, and with him being so far away from her, Elena feels self conscious. She wraps her hands around herself.

“Let me see you.” Rúben begs, still kneeling.

She drops her hands beside her body and lets him stare at her. He looks hungry. Standing up, Rúben is so much taller than her. His body reminds her of Ancient Greek sculptures of Apollo. It’s her turn to stare.

Laying in bed, Elena is on top of him, their eyes glued to each other as Rúben has a finger inside of her. Going in and out, temptingly slow.

“I’m feeling romantic,” She warned him, before. “Maybe it’s the wedding. But I want you to do me nicely,  lovingly. Like you like me.”

“I do like you.” He assured her.

But Rúben understood what she meant, he felt the same way. They wanted to make love to each other that night.

“Cum for me.” He whispers and the sound of his voice is enough to drive her over the edge. “Good girl…” Rúben caresses her head and kisses her temple. “You’ve been so good to me.”

Elena will never forget the way he looks at her, with devotion and adoration. Rúben has his own promise to keep and he fucks her lovingly, like he likes her.

“I want you so much.” She cries and Rúben kisses her passionately, trying to soothe her.

“I’m right here.” He’s completely inside of her when he says that, one of her legs on his shoulder. Rúben holds her body down while he tries to find the perfect rhythms for his hips. “You’re perfect…” He loses himself in his pleasure.

“You feel so good…” Elena moans when he gives her another orgasm.

She stirs in the soft embrace of sleep, her senses gradually awakening to the unfamiliar warmth and weight against her body. Rúben’s sweaty form pressed against her own when she woke up, thirsty, in the middle of the night. The memories of the night before flood back.

Elena carefully extricates herself from the tangle of sheets and bodies, careful not to disturb Rúben's peaceful rest. Her bare feet touch the cool floor, sending a shiver up her spine as she stands up, wincing slightly as her legs protest the sudden movement.

She pads softly across the room, her steps nearly silent on the carpet. The air feels cool against her skin, a gentle contrast to the warmth she's left behind in the bed.

Finding her way to the bathroom, Elena flips on the light, blinking against the sudden brightness. She closes the door behind her and takes a moment to catch her breath, her heart still racing from the unexpected movement. The events of the night feel like a dream – a beautiful, intense dream that she's not quite ready to wake up from.

One her phone there’s a text from Mariana, from hours before:

‘you just disappeared, girl, are you okay?’

Elena sends a thumbs up and fills a glass with water, taking slow sips, the cool liquid soothing her parched throat. She gazes at her reflection in the mirror, the memory of Rúben's touch still lingering on her skin. The marks of their connection are invisible yet undeniable.

After a few moments, she sets the glass down and turns off the bathroom light, allowing the room to return to its dim, moonlit state. As she walks back to the bed, the soft sound of Rúben's breathing guides her steps.

Carefully slipping under the covers, Elena finds her place next to him once again, his warmth enveloping her as she settles in. She's aware of the curve of his body against hers, the way their forms seem to fit together like pieces of a puzzle.

Elena allows her eyes to close. The moonlight filters through the curtains, casting a silvery glow over their intertwined forms, a reminder of the connection they share. And as she drifts back into sleep, she's filled with a sense of anticipation for what the dawn might bring, and the continuation of the story that has only just begun.

[yetanothersparrowofthedawn]

All this and Heaven Too

Masterlist

Extended Masterpost

Word Count: 6.4k

Pairing: ex!Jake x Reader

Genre: Angst, Hurt, ex!Jake

Synopsis: Trying to navigate your relationship with an ex is tough. It gets a little tougher when said ex brings a date to your mutual friends’ wedding.

Disclaimer: English isn’t my native language, so I apologize in advance for mistakes and awkward wordings to come.

Chapter soundtrack : All this and Heaven Too – Florence + the Machine

And the heart is hard to translate, It has a language of its own. It talks in tongues and quiet sighs, In prayers and proclamations, In the grand deeds of great men, And the smallest of gestures, In short shallow gasps.

The clicking of Y/N’s heels against the marble floor resonated throughout the hall, as she hurried towards the bridal dressing room and gave it a gentle knock. A wave of excitement washed over her when she opened the door. Before her stood her friend Briley, looking nothing short of exquisite in her wedding gown, the soft, ivory lace cascading around her like a waterfall.

"Knock, knock," Y/N smiled, her voice filled with awe as she stepped further into the room. She was greeted by the cheers of the other bridesmaids.

“Gosh, we thought you’d never get here” Briley sighed in relief as Y/N engulfed her in a hug.

"I know, sorry, my flight was delayed. Jesus, you look incredible," Y/N couldn't help but exclaim, her admiration spilling out in a breathless whisper. "Marcus is going to go crazy."

Briley's eyes twinkled with a mix of nervousness and excitement. "Is he okay?" she asked, her smile slightly trembling.

"No idea," Y/N replied, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. "I just got here and figured I'd come see you first."

 The bride reached out and gently grabbed Y/N's forearm, her touch grounding and comforting. "You're the best," she whispered, gratitude filling her voice.

"So,” with a mischievous glint in her eye, Y/N leaned in closer to her friend, "no cold feet, I hope?"

 Briley laughed, “are you kidding? A flipping hurricane couldn’t stop me from getting them vows out.”

"Good," Y/N replied with a smile.

Suddenly the dressing room door creaked open, revealing the imposing presence of Marcus’s mother. Her demeanor, stern and strict, as per usual. "Mrs. King, how lovely to see you," Y/N greeted her respectfully.

The older woman glanced at her watch, her tone holding a hint of impatience. "It's good to see you too, Y/N. I see punctuality still isn't your strong suit."

 Y/N chuckled softly, not taking the comment to heart. "I'm afraid so."

The woman approached her daughter-in-law before turning her attention to the bridesmaids, "You girls should go join the rest of the wedding party, the ceremony will begin soon."

 "Yes, ma'am," Y/N replied, her tone respectful, and turned back to the bride. " We'll see you on the other side,” she paused, “don’t trip.”

Briley couldn't help but roll her eyes, as she watched Y/N and the other bridesmaids head towards the door.

________

Y/N's entrance sent ripples of excitement through the room. She strutted into the space where the rest of the wedding party had gathered, and her eyes lit up as she saw the Greta boys looking over at her. Each of them looked dashing in their tailored suits and polished dress shoes.

"Fancy seeing you here!" Y/N's voice rang out, filled with the joy of reunion. Warm smiles greeted her, and she was engulfed in a flurry of hugs.

"Well, it's about time," the groom, quipped with a playful grin.

"Sorry Marcus, I was with the bride," Y/N replied, "Bridesmaid duty, you know how it goes."

 Marcus's nervousness momentarily slipped through as he asked, "Is she all good?"

Y/N's reassurance was swift and heartfelt. "She's perfect," she replied warmly. "And may I say, you look quite sharp, yourself," she playfully ruffled his nerves.

The wedding planner’s assistant strode towards the group with all the flair of a secret agent. His earpiece buzzed with activity, and the tablet clutched in his hand held the secrets to the day's events.

"Alright, everybody," he declared, his gaze sweeping across the room as he mentally took attendance. "It's almost time, we-" a sudden realization struck him, causing a momentary pause. "Hold up a minute. Are we missing a groomsman?" he asked, sweat already making his forehead glisten. An air of perplexed impatience settled among the group.

"What the hell is he doing?" Sam muttered under his breath, casting a worried glance at his watch.

 "He said he was on his way an hour ago,” Danny stated, his brows furrowing with concern as he looked down at his phone.

The room seemed to hold its breath. But just as tension began to mount, the missing man burst through the doors. His steps were slightly hurried, perhaps a bit out of breath, but he still managed to maintain his impeccable appearance in his well-fitted suit. "I'm here, I'm here!" Jake announced, his voice a mix of apology and relief.

 He wasted no time in hugging Marcus quickly, who conveyed annoyance and relief simultaneously. "I know," he cut off the groom's impending scolding. "I'm sorry, man, traffic was a bitch." With those words, he excused himself to head inside the venue. "I'll be right back," he muttered.

As Jake moved away, no one could help but notice someone walking by his side. An awkward silence descended upon the group.

"So," Y/N spoke up, her expression blank as they all observed the unfolding scene; a lovely young woman being gently guided to one of the pews by none other than her ex-boyfriend. "Jake brought a date."

_________

Sam, standing nearby, couldn't help but look surprised. "You didn't know?"

Y/N's annoyance was palpable as she replied, "Well, how on earth would I know if none of you guys told me? It's not like he and I stay up every night chatting on the phone."

Danny, always the peacemaker, offered a conciliatory comment. "Sorry, we didn't think you'd mind."

"I don't,” Y/N replied, her voice tinged with frustration, “I just—a heads-up would've been nice." Her gaze shifted to the floor and the conversation resumed.

Josh, sensing her posture, eventually nudged her, "You, okay?" Y/N looked up, her sulking expression fading.

 "Of course,” she nodded. After all, he knew he’d been seeing new people, and they had broken up a long time ago. “I just- kind of wish I'd brought a date now," she admitted with a playful pout.

Sam, always ready to be the gallant one, seized the opportunity. "Well, it seems like Ella stood me up, anyway. I'll be your date, Milady," he bowed theatrically.

Y/N's eyebrows raised in amusement. "Oh, sure, a pity date,” she replied, her tone dripping with irony, “now that doesn't make me feel pathetic."

"Hey! I'll have you know I'm a total catch," Sam declared with mock indignation. Before the banter could continue, a member of security entered the room.

"There's some girl at the entrance saying she's Samuel Kiszka’s plus one. Name's Emma, but she's not on the list."

 "Emma?" Sam echoed, a hint of confusion in his tone. "I could've sworn her name was Ella. Anyway, yeah, let her in, my good man."

"Huh?” Y/N interrupted the exchange, her voice tinged with curiosity, “What happened to you being my date?"

Sam grinned playfully, his ego momentarily unchecked. "Well, I can't help it that I'm so popular among the ladies."

"You—" Y/N began, but her words were abruptly cut off by Marcus, who had decided to intervene.

 "Alright,” the groom stated firmly, “not happening. I love you man, but I'm not having one of your random flings in my wedding pictures."

"She's not a fling," the youngest Kiszka defended himself, his tone dramatic as ever. "I'll have you know we shared a very special weekend in Vegas, and Ella may just-."

"Emma," Danny corrected with a cough and a sly smile.

 "Emma," Sam repeated, his eyes closing in frustration, knowing he had just undermined his entire point, "Emma may just be the love of my life, for all you know," he tried recovering, as Y/N offered a knowing smile.

"Sure, Samuel." Marcus turned to the security guard, "do not let that girl in." A brief pause followed, a moment of uncertainty hanging in the air.

Then, through a window, they all saw it—a girl, wearing a scandalous feathery dress, was being dragged away by security. Her screams filled the air, creating a chaotic scene that sharply contrasted with the elegant ambiance of the venue.

 Everyone in the room turned to look at Sam, their expressions a mix of amusement and resigned familiarity. He did have a reputation for attracting unconventional partners, and this time was no different.

 "What?" Sam asked, adopting an innocent expression as he met their gazes. "I said I was popular, not that I had good taste."

_________

 "Alright, everyone, please get in position," The assistant’s voice interrupted the prevailing silence. He strode forward, his sweeping hands guiding the wedding party into formation. "Every groomsman, stand next to your bridesmaid." Everyone complied without hesitation, aligning themselves into a neat line, with Josh standing right beside Y/N.

Amidst the anticipation, Y/N broke the silence, her voice a hushed whisper. "So," she began, her gaze fixed on the approaching ceremony, "how long have they been together?" Josh, momentarily taken aback by the question, furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Huh?" he asked, his attention now on Y/N.

"Jake and his date," Y/N clarified, her curiosity piqued.

 Josh offered a shrug, "I'm not sure, actually" he admitted with a thoughtful expression. "It's probably not too serious, though." Their conversation was almost immediately derailed by Sam speaking out from behind them.

 "I mean," the youngest Kiszka began, "he did bring her to the wedding so—ouch!" Josh had swiftly stepped back on Sam's foot, effectively cutting off any further discussion. A deadly glare followed to emphasize his point; the action accompanied by a reassuring squeeze of Y/N's arm. It was an unconscious gesture, a silent message of comfort passing between friends.

 Y/N couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of Josh's protective antics. "Oh my," she remarked, her eyes dancing with amusement. "Will you cut it out? I'm fine. It's good to see we’ve both moved on. It's great, in fact. I was just surprised."

Just as Y/N spoke, Jake walked back from the pews area, moving with a sense of purpose. He positioned himself right in front of the pair, standing beside his assigned bridesmaid.

"Hey," he greeted Y/N with a slight nod, his voice rough yet friendly.

"Hi," Y/N replied in a shy breath.

The planner seized the moment of silence to regain control of the situation. "Alright, everybody," he announced with authority, "it's time." His words echoed with a sense of urgency. "Groom and best man, let's get you to the altar." He quickly herded Marcus and his manager into the venue, ensuring they were on their way. Turning his attention back to the wedding party, he continued, "As for the wedding party, every groomsman stick to his bridesmaid. And please remember, Mrs. King will have my head if the pictures aren't perfect, so look alive, people. This isn't a wake."

The anticipation in the room was palpable as the wedding party prepared for the beginning of the ceremony.

 Josh couldn't resist a teasing comment as he noticed Y/N's towering heels. "Gee, could your heels be any higher? I look like an imp next to you."

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. "You're still taller than me."

"By like, half an inch," He replied and paused briefly before adding with a slight grin, "Maybe you could switch with this- delightful young woman over here." His eyes playfully lingered on Jake's assigned bridesmaid, suggesting mischief.

Y/N immediately tensed, perfectly manicure nails painfully clutching Josh’s bicep, as she harshly whispered, "say another word, and I swear you'll get my very high heels somewhere you do not want them, Kiszka."

“Message received,” he mumbled with a pained smirk.

As the string quartet began to play, the hauntingly beautiful melody filled the air, and the grand doors leading into the venue swung open.

__________

The ceremony unfolded flawlessly. Each word of the heartfelt vows exchanged between Marcus and Briley resonated throughout the venue and not a dry eye could be found among the guests. With their union sealed, the wedding party and guests joyfully made their way to the reception venue.

The place was a sight to behold, a testament to the couple’s taste for opulence. The reception was a true midwestern affair. Tables were adorned with lavish floral arrangements and silverware arranged with meticulous precision. The dance floor in the center beckoned to those eager to celebrate. The overall atmosphere exuded abundance.

As the evening progressed, the planning continued to impress. The servers moved gracefully between tables, ensuring that every guest's wine glass remained filled.

The hall buzzed with laughter and conversation as guests mingled under the soft glow of the evening. Danny, usually the epitome of discreetness, found himself sharing a string of hilarious anecdotes about Marcus from the early days, leaving his entire table in stitches, laughter echoing through the room. As for Josh, forever the life of the party, he was busy orchestrating an impromptu show with a couple of bridesmaids, his infectious energy pulling everyone onto the dance floor.

 Y/N was seated elegantly at her table, her eyes twinkling with mirth as she watched the guests sway to the rhythmic tunes on the dance floor. A soft smile played at the corners of her lips as she soaked in the joyous atmosphere. The room itself seemed to shimmer with the soft glow of chandeliers, casting a warm ambiance that complemented the evening.

Her reverie was abruptly interrupted as the ever-so-vigilant wedding planner’s assistant, stormed towards her. He was an arrow of energy and efficiency in his mission. "Ah, wonderful, just the one I was looking for," he declared with a commanding presence. "Come on, up! Up! Up! It's time for some slow dancing photos."

Y/N shifted in her seat, "Oh, sure, my date is- uh... " she began, her gaze sweeping across the room only to find Sam missing, “somewhere in this building?"

The undeterred planner reassured her, "It's alright, we'll find you a groomsman to dance with in the blink of an eye." His keen eyes scanned the room before he called out, “Jacob! Come over here!"

Y/N's nerves crept in as her ex, a couple of tables away, turned to look their way. She tried to dissuade the man, her voice wavering slightly. "Oh, I really don't think that's necessary."

He brushed off her concerns. "Nonsense," he insisted, calling out some more. "Jacob! Y/N here is in need of a partner. I'm sure you—"

"I must insist," Y/N interjected with a tight smile. She subtly grabbed the man's arm, attempting to convey the urgency of the situation.

 "I'm sorry, Miss Y/N," he explained, his voice carrying a note of urgency as Jake reached her table, "but Mrs. King told me I would burn in the deepest pit of hell if the pictures were any less than perfect." He shrugged helplessly. "Now, I'm not an idiot. I know Mrs. King doesn't actually control who does and doesn't burn in hell, but…" Y/N followed his gaze, their eyes settling on Marcus’s mother, the imposing figure overseeing the reception with a serious expression on her face.

"There is something about those eyes, isn't there?" Y/N mused, her voice tinged with wry humor.

Sighing in resignation, Jake held out his hand to his YN. "Come on," he said with a hint of amusement, their eyes finally meeting, "we wouldn't want to be responsible for the poor man's eternal damnation, would we?"

A discreet smirk tugged at Y/N's lips as she accepted his hand. Jake wasn’t much of a public dancer. Back in the day she would always have to beg for him to join her on the dance floor. If only she’d known all they had to do was break up for him to suddenly be chill about it.

 Rising to her feet, she looked back at the poor assistant, who was pressing his hands together, silently mouthing a 'thank you.' Jake's hand settled firmly on the small of her back and they walked towards the crowd of dancers.

The dance floor beckoned, bathed in the soft glow of twinkling fairy lights. As Jake and Y/N swayed to the soft, melodic rhythm, the world around them seemed to fade into the background.

Dancing with each other felt oddly familiar, like slipping into a well-worn pair of shoes. Yet, their eyes didn't meet, and not a word was exchanged between them. The atmosphere was charged with unspoken memories.

Jake’s low voice finally broke the heavy silence, "You look great."

 Y/N's heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice. "Thanks," she said glancing down, a soft shade of red coloring her cheeks. His discreet smirk didn't go unnoticed. It was clear that, even after everything, he still had the power to affect her. “You don’t look so bad yourself,” she managed to respond.

Silence enveloped them once more and before she could stop herself, more words tumbled out, "your date looks cute too."

The uneasiness in Jake's body was palpable as he visibly tensed. He let out a sigh, his voice laced with uncertainty, "Yeah, sorry about that. I just... I didn't know whether you'd—"

"Hey," Y/N interrupted gently, her shy smile returning, "No need to apologize. I was just teasing.” They continued to dance in silence, but Y/N couldn't bear it for long. Understanding the discomfort she had caused, she tried to ease the tension. "She really does though... look cute, I mean," she ventured, her voice carrying a subtle hint of mischief. Her words hung in the air, met with a resounding silence that made the pair uncomfortable, she carried on “H-how long have-”

 “Can we not- do this?” he cut her off, his tone uncharacteristically harsh. He cleared his throat and glanced away. His unease was evident. "I just- I’d rather not talk about that," he finally admitted, his voice carrying a note of vulnerability.

Understanding his discomfort, Y/N nodded in agreement.

 Before she could utter another word, the song came to an end. Jake, with an air of finality, let go of her waist and hand.

She opened her mouth to say something more, a fleeting thought on her lips, but he beat her to it.

"Song's over," he declared abruptly, his voice firm, before stepping away from her.

Y/N was left standing in the middle of the dancefloor, momentarily dumbfounded, as the music faded into the background, carrying with it the unspoken emotions that still lingered between them.

-----------

After the awkward encounter on the dance floor, Y/N returned to her table with a heavy heart. She sought solace in the crystal-clear flute of champagne that sat on the table. Her delicate fingers clutched the slender stem as she took a generous sip, the effervescence of the bubbly liquid offering her a momentary escape.

 The party around her was still in full swing, the rhythm of laughter and music filling the air. Y/N couldn't help but join in the celebration, allowing herself to be swept up in the festivities. She let Josh drag her back to the dance floor and their laughter resonated everywhere as they twirled and spun. She also shared moments with Marcus and Briley, showering her old friends with well-wishes and heartfelt congratulations.

 Despite the lingering discomfort from her encounter with Jake, Y/N was determined to make the most of the evening. However, as the night wore on and the champagne continued to flow, Y/N found herself needing a moment alone.

She excused herself, navigating her way through the jubilant crowd, and headed towards the bathroom.

 She stood before the mirror of the lavishly adorned restroom, gazing at her reflection with a hint of weariness in her eyes. Her makeup needed refreshing.

 Just as she was putting finishing touches of lipstick, she heard the soft sound of running water. Turning slightly, she noticed a figure standing at the sink out of the corner of her eye.

 It was Jake's date, washing her hands with a composed demeanor. This unexpected encounter brought with it an unspoken discomfort. Y/N's heart raced as she pondered whether to acknowledge the girl’s presence or simply continue with her own preparations. The dimly lit bathroom seemed to shrink around them.

As their eyes finally met in the mirror, Y/N had no choice but to try and make the encounter less awkward. "You're fine, don't worry,” Y/N assured, offering a reassuring smile, “just because you're here with Jake doesn't mean I'm planning your assassination."

A faint smile flickered across the girl's face, and she muttered a nervous, "Sorry." Y/N noticed a hint of embarrassment and shyness in the girl's demeanor. Her eyes fell on Y/N's purse. "Makeup," she remarked, "smart. I didn't bring any."

Without hesitation, Y/N took a step forward, a hand gently grabbed the girl’s jaw, "here, let me," she offered, applying a touch of her lipstick to her lips. Once she was done, her fingers brushed against the girl's hair, "You're pretty," Y/N complimented sincerely, her voice softening. Curious about the girl, Y/N decided to engage in conversation. "Your name is?"

"Jenna, Miss. Y/L/N," came the girl's response, laden with a sense of formality that seemed out of place in this intimate setting.

Y/N's demeanor shifted, "Honey, you're fucking my ex," she pointed out the obvious, "I think you can call me by my first name."

Jenna's face immediately registered a mix of surprise and embarrassment, her earlier shyness giving way to a sense of unease.

Y/N realized her harsh words had hit harder than intended, and she backtracked hastily, her voice tinged with regret. "Shit, no, wait, I'm... I'm sorry," Y/N stumbled over her words, her gaze sincere. "I've had a few drinks, and it looks like I'm a mean drunk tonight. I'm sure you're a very nice girl, and we'll get along great when I'm sober." She offered a small, apologetic smile, but it was clear the poor girl was turning more red by the second.

“I should probably go back out there.”

As the girl left the bathroom, Y/N glanced at herself in the mirror, her reflection seemingly mocking her. She let out a barely audible, self-deprecating whisper, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Just as she contemplated her actions, the sound of a door opening caught her attention. Y/N turned to see Briley emerging from one of the stalls, a knowing look in her eyes.

"Girl," the bride said with a playful shake of her head, her voice carrying a mixture of amusement and sympathy. She approached Y/N and offered a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Happens to the best of us. Just chalk it up to wedding nerves and champagne."

Y/N couldn't help but smile at her friend's understanding. Briley had always had a way of lightening the mood, even in the most awkward of situations.

"Guess you're right," Y/N admitted with a grateful sigh, "Let's get back out there. No more drama, I promise."

 The bride grinned and linked her arm with Y/N's as they exited the restroom together. With her friend by her side, Y/N felt more determined than ever to put the awkward encounter behind her and make the most of the celebration.

The grand reception hall was a symphony of elegance and opulence as the time came for the highly anticipated wedding toasts. Guests, resplendent in their formal attire, sat around the lavishly adorned tables, their eyes trained on the head table where the newlyweds sat.

Danny, the charismatic best man, took to the microphone with a charming grin and a mischievous glint in his eyes. "On this very special day, I feel it is my duty to embarrass Marcus," he began, his voice projecting with theatrical flair. “Let me paint you a picture... The year was 2018 and mohawks were all the rage…” He embarked on a captivating storytelling journey. The audience was immediately captivated, and peals of laughter filled the room as they hung on his every word.

Following Danny's entertaining introduction, the baton of toasting passed to the Kiszka groomsmen. The dynamic trio offered a playful yet heartfelt toast with playful grins and raised glasses. "To the bride and groom!" they finished enthusiastically, "may all your ups and downs come only in the bedroom." Their words elicited a chorus of clinking glasses as guests joined in the merriment.

After a few more speeches, the moment arrived for Y/N to take the spotlight. She approached the microphone with grace and poise, her presence commanding the room's attention. With a warm smile, she started her toast, acknowledging the humor of the evening. "Hi, everyone," she began, her voice a melodic cadence that drew everyone in. "I swear this is the last toast you will have to sit through tonight." Her audience chuckled in response to her lighthearted remark, and she continued.

“As the person who introduced these two to each other, I’ve had the privilege to know them both separately, before knowing them together. I’ve witnessed the sneaky glances and the secret pining, the horrible flirting and, yes, the repulsively intense PDA of the early days,” she giggled. “I’ve watched these two fall in love the way a river carves its path through mountains. Slow and steady, always secure, never once changing its course. I’ve watched as they changed each other for the better and, like most of you here tonight, I’ve had the privilege of knowing, as I watch Marcus’s dimples show every time Briley walks in the room, what it is like to truly be in the presence of love.”

"Love-” she exhaled shakily, “is a force of nature," she carried on, her voice rich with emotion. Jake, seated among the guests, couldn't help but feel the weight of her words. His eyes flickered to hers for a brief instant, a silent acknowledgment of the shared history they both knew.

Y/N continued, her gaze unwavering, "It’s not just about the grand gestures or the heart-stopping moments. It's about the small, everyday acts of kindness and understanding that make life together truly special." The room was filled with nods of agreement and quiet murmurs of appreciation. Y/N's words resonated with everyone present, touching their hearts deep.

"It's about the laughter that fills your home," Y/N continued softly, "and the comfort of knowing that you have a partner with whom you can share both your dreams and fears." Her teary gaze unconsciously drifted to meet Jake’s, and in that moment, it was as if the world around them disappeared, leaving only the unspoken connection between them. She blinked a shy tear away, looking back towards the bride and groom, her eyes shimmering with sincerity.

 “So, in this spirit,” she resumed, “I would like to, for the last time tonight, raise a glass to Marcus and Briley and the beautiful adventure they are about to embark upon together," she raised the delicate glass in her hand, “I can think of no two people better prepared for the journey." The guests joined in the toast, their glasses clinking together in celebration. Jake, too, raised his glass, his eyes never leaving Y/N's, a silent acknowledgment passing between them.

As Y/N's words faded into the warm embrace of the gathering, the festivities resumed, promising stories yet to be told and memories yet to be made.

___________

The lively wedding celebration continued in full swing. However, amidst the jubilant atmosphere, Jake noticed Y/N's absence and couldn't resist the urge to look for her, against his better judgement.

He knew her well enough to predict where he might find her. He walked towards the balcony and was met with the view of her elegant backless dress. He stepped through the French door, the chill of the night instantly hitting him. "Aren't you freezing out here?" he inquired, his breath forming a faint mist in the cold air.

Y/N, her figure silhouetted against the backdrop of the night, turned to look at him. She held out the snifter glass in her hand, swirling the amber liquid within, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon. "I have my new friend, Brandy, to keep me warm," she replied with a wry smile. Jake ambled to the edge of the balcony, his fingers drumming nervously against the balustrade as he sought to break the silence.

"Hey, listen, I, uh—" he began, only his words faltered as he noticed her covering her face, her shoulders trembling. It wasn't clear whether she was crying until a sudden burst of laughter escaped her, echoing through the night. Jake could hardly hide his confusion, "what's so funny?" he asked.

"It's nothing, I'm— I'm sorry," she managed between giggles. "I just-” she caught her breath, “I can't believe they asked us of all people to make a toast at this wedding," she said, wiping her eyes. "I mean, isn't it stupid?" Y/N laughed, her mirth infectious.

 "Yeah," Jake agreed with a chuckle, "I guess it is a bit stupid," suddenly unable to hold back his own nervous laughter any longer.

"I mean, if we had any idea what the key to a long-lasting relationship was, we probably wouldn't be here right now," Y/N continued, holding her sides as she shook with laughter. The pair looked like complete maniacs from afar.

"Anyway," she carried on after a while, her laughter finally subsiding, "shouldn't you be with your date?"

Jake's smile faded slightly as he admitted, "She left early, had a bit of a headache."

Y/N recalled the restroom encounter from earlier, the awkwardness lingering between them. "God, yeah," she said with a nervous chuckle. "That... might be my fault. I sort of—"

"I know,” Jake confessed, his gaze softening, “she told me."

"I'm so sorry," Y/N apologized sincerely, her voice filled with regret. "I honestly don't know what came over me. You know how I can get after a few glasses—"

"It's okay," he reassured her, cutting her off gently. "I should be the one apologizing, really. I was an ass earlier."

"No, I mean— you’re allowed not to want to tell m-" Y/N began, her voice filled with understanding.

 "But I do," Jake continued sincerely, as he looked at her with warmth in his eyes.

“Y-you do?” She asked, surprised.

"I mean, I'm not gonna pretend it'll be easy, but- we were- sort of friends before everything." He looked down, his lips pursed at his own unexpected confession. But it was all true. Losing his girl was one thing, losing his partner was another. “And us not talking doesn’t really seem to be working out so well.”

Y/N's heart skipped a beat at his words, a glimmer of nostalgia in her eyes. "Yeah," she admitted, her voice softening.

"I guess we'll just have to figure things out," Jake said with determination, the tension slowly dissipating. He was right, their friend group was too close-knit and navigating the remaining uneasiness had been way too much. Both knew they would need to put it all behind somehow.

"Right," Y/N agreed, a sense of optimism filling the space between them. "So, tell me, then, what's been going on in Jacob Kiszka's life lately?"

As they continued to converse, the balcony became a haven of shared laughter and excitement. It felt like a slice of their past, reminiscent of the days when they were inseparable. The topics ranged from the mundane to the profound, and for a while, the world outside the balcony ceased to exist.

As their conversation flowed effortlessly, the topic of Briley’s pregnancy inevitably arose. Unspoken sorrow lingered in the air. Their eyes met, and for a moment.

"They're gonna be great parents," Y/N said softly, with voice tinged with both happiness and sadness, and a bright smile Jake could see right through.

"They are," he agreed, a mixture of emotions playing in his eyes as they exchanged a knowing glance, the unspoken chapters of their intertwined stories looming large between them.

 As Y/N scanned the room from the balcony, her keen eyes locked onto one Sam Kiszka, who was stealthily making his way back towards the reception area after his mysterious absence.

Her lips curled into a sly grin, and there was an unmistakable glint of mischief in her eyes. "Oh, hell no," she muttered under her breath, her voice growing louder with each word as she stormed back inside. "Samuel Francis Kiszka, don't you dare run away from me!"

Sam, sensing the impending storm of Y/N's wrath, attempted a quick escape, his agility and grace in his finely tailored red suit no match for her determination. Y/N's accusative finger pointed straight at him, and there was no escaping her fury.

"You!" she exclaimed, her tone filled with both indignation and playful annoyance. "You are the worst date on earth! I can't believe you'd disappear on me like that! 'Gallantry's my middle name' my ass!"

Sam, the epitome of charm even in the face of impending retribution, adopted an innocent expression. "Y/N, my darling," he began, his voice dripping with exaggerated sincerity, "don't be mad. It's not my fault I'm irresistible in a suit. I'm like a chick-magnet. I swear, there was virtually nothing I could do!"

"For two hours?" Y/N shot back incredulously. "Couldn't you just have a quickie like a normal person?"

Sam grinned mischievously, his playful banter unwavering. "What can I say? I'm a giver."

"You complete buffoon," Y/N retorted, her annoyance melting into amusement. "You owe me."

"Argh, don't be like that," the tall boy pleaded, his eyes twinkling with amusement. Y/N let out a dramatic sigh, crossing her arms. "Come on, I'll buy you a drink," he winked.

"It's an open bar, Samuel." She answered, flashing a faux-grateful smile.

"Can I perhaps interest you in a tender kiss, then?" he teased, leaning in with a playful pout.

 Rolling her eyes, Y/N gave in with a chuckle. "Ugh, fine, a drink it is."

"Gin Martini?"

"Better make it a double," she warned him.

"Right away, Milady," Sam said with a faux-French accent, "As it pleases Milady, I only live to serve Milady." He walked away, theatrically bowing, and in a moment of poetic justice, he managed to crash into a waiter, causing a cascade of trays to topple precariously. Y/N couldn't help but laugh at the spectacle before turning back to Jake, who was still out on the balcony.

"You coming?" she called out to him.

 Jake, watching the humorous exchange with an amused smile, shook his head. "I'll catch up with you guys later," he replied, content to remain on the balcony for a while longer, savoring the solitude and the cool night air.

____________

Jake stood there on the balcony, the soft breeze rustling his long hair as he contemplated his unexpected conversation with Y/N. Time seemed to slow down, the minutes stretching into moments of tranquil reflection. Talking to her had been oddly comforting. Despite their tumultuous past and the undeniable fact that their romantic union was over, he couldn't deny the nostalgia that their interaction had stirred within him.

Their messy breakup had served as a painful reminder of irreconcilable differences, but the past year and a half had been an ongoing challenge. Y/N had chosen to stay away, moving to LA the second she got back from tour.

Their careers kept them incredibly busy, but of course they had been bound to see each other again, running into each other at festivals and award shows. Navigating it all had been an awkward dance, each encounter weighed down by unspoken tension.

Yet, as Jake gazed out into the night, he allowed himself to entertain the possibility of a fresh start. He knew it wouldn't be simple. Their journey had been marred by heartache. But as he leaned against the balustrade, he couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, they were turning a corner—a chance to breathe freely in each other's presence, a tentative step toward healing old wounds.

As Jake finally headed back towards the reception hall, lost in his thoughts, he was greeted by a peculiar sound that snapped him back to reality. Boisterous voices grew louder as he approached the hall's entrance. With a mixture of curiosity and bemusement, he stepped through the doors.

Danny, usually composed and collected and cool, was now swaying arm in arm with his girlfriend, the both of them belting out the lyrics to a country song as if their lives depended on it. Their voices wavering in and out of tune, but their enthusiasm infectious.

Turning his attention, Jake spotted Sam, barefoot, in the midst of an impromptu dance battle with a random kid, no older than 12. Danny's tie had somehow found its way around the youngest Kiszka’s forehead, adding a touch of eccentricity to his passionate moves. Jake couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. Ah, Samuel.

 Meanwhile, in a corner of the hall, oblivious to the uproarious commotion, Marcus and Brailey were lost in their own little world. Their eyes were locked, and they swayed gently to the music, wrapped up in the bubble of their love. They’re going to be fine, Jake thought.

"Jesus Christ, Josh, keep it PG, will you?" a voice suddenly rang, drawing laughter from those nearby. Jake’s head whipped to the side, only for him to catch sight of none other than his twin brother, perched precariously atop a table, in the midst of an energetic, and wildly too suggestive dance performance. It was clear he had overexerted himself, evidenced by the conspicuous rip in his pants. Y/N was desperately trying to coax him off the table, her hands raised in a plea for him to descend.

Josh’s boyfriend, trying to maintain some semblance of order, added his voice to the mix, his tone half-joking and half-serious. "Joshua, get down- Jo- don’t make me call Mrs. King over, ‘cause I will!" He threatened, eyeing his man's antics with a mix of exasperation and fondness. Jake couldn't help but shake his head, thoroughly entertained by the scene.

 He watched for a moment, wondering if he should intervene. Before he could decide, "Jakey!” Y/N called out to him with a playful smile. “Are you going to help us out, or do I need to beg?"

 Yes, he thought, they were going to be just fine.

Next Track : California

Extended Masterpost

Masterlist

Hope you liked it! Once again, I am begging you all to interact and leave comments it makes me so happy to get feedback and reactions xxx

Also, this is only the beginning lol. I have a billion drafts for other chapters so stay tuned, peaceful army.

Taglist

@aintthatapity

@sinarainbows

@vanfleeter 

@gretavanhockey

[dollwritesarchive]

‘𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 — 𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐳𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐲𝐜𝐤

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), dub con, fem!bride!reader, kidnapping / forced domestication, loss of virginity, mentions of murder, blood and threats against reader, objectification / mild degradation, size kink, forced breeding kink / creampie, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. thanks for reading < 3

your instructions were all very clear, and very specific, but you found yourself struck speechless when he appeared. lightning scattered webs of silver across the night sky, thunder shook the entire mansion, and then he was standing there, on the balcony, just outside the crystal doors. your breath caught in your throat as he stares inside, dark eyes zeroed in on you, and one hand reaches for the latch. a gust of wind catches the unlocked glass and flings it inwards towards you, banging against the wall— the hinges creak, but hold. you flinch, startled, and stumble back, but he’s inside and across the room to stand before you in the blink of an eye, without so much as time to allow a droplet of rain from his inky tendrils to fall beforehand. 

“I recognize you.” 

he must; the pearly white chiffon of your gown was tattered and stained a muted rust— dried blood. what had become of your veil or your shoes were unbeknownst to you, forgotten when you hid underneath the altar and clamped a hand over your mouth to not alert the mass murderer of your presence whilst he slaughtered the entire wedding party.

 of course, he’d been privy all along, and simply bent over to peek inside at you once he was finished. black eyes were devoid of any remorse, but he didn’t try to reach and pull you out, or kill you. he simply stared for a moment or two, probably listening to the sound of you sobbing and begging him not to hurt you, and then straightened without so much as a whisper, and left. 

it wasn’t until after you’d crawled out and witnessed the carnage that you’d been taken. 

you hardly hear it— the savage thumping of your nervous heart much too loud in your ears, as is the way you suck in a desperate gulp. “I— I—“ think, dammit. but, where had your thoughts gone? had they, along with your ability to breathe, been stolen? 

“Who left you in here?” the assassin’s expression wasn’t soft, but it was understanding. as if he knew that someone as meek as you would have trouble being this close to him. yet, still expectant of answer. “You didn’t make it to my bedroom by yourself.”

“Your f—father.” you don’t recognize your voice when it leaves your lips, it’s much too soft a whisper. then again, there was no need for you to be any louder than that; he was so close that you could smell the fresh rain in his hair. “He says…” the words Silva used were embarrassing and horrible, but you were told to recite them verbatim. and so you do. “He says that since you didn’t finish the job, he kept your compensation. The only payment you’re allowed is…” your voice was starting to shake. 

“You.” Illumi finishes for you, staring down with an unreadable, abysmal gaze, and his head slowly tilts, as if he’s starting to understand, or, perhaps, ponder the possibilities. “Hm.” 

you’re relieved for some reason, when he turns away and struts to the other side of the room. you feel like you can breathe for a moment while his back is turned. 

but only for a single moment. 

because that oxygen is wrenched away from you the second he peels out of his wet shirt, allowing it to fall in a damp heap on the floor. “W— what are you—“ your cheeks were hot, but you felt as though your feet were frozen solid to the floor, unable to move even an inch, you watched him undress. your eyes grazed over the dips in his abdomen when he turns, partially, to face you. each pad of muscle is blanketed artfully in ivory flesh with ribbons of rain  dribbling from the raven tips that cascade over his shoulders and tickle his belly. “What are you doing?” 

“Undressing.” he said, incredibly simply. you could see that much. but, you were more concerned that he was doing it right in front of you. his hands fall to his waistband, and he makes short work of it, allowing his trousers to join the other garments. this is when you look away, when he’s stark naked. you want to hide behind both hands, but you’re much too in shock to command your muscles to move. “You’ll be expected to get used to my naked body if you’re going to be my pet.” you feel a tight, cold grip around your wrist and the need to jerk back overwhelms you, but he’s stronger and holds you there. when did he cross the room to come back to you? it didn’t matter; it seemed like when Illumi moved, he did so on clouds. he was silent and quick. guiding your trembling fingers to his abdomen, he presses your palm flat. you can feel the solid muscle that’s been built over years of harsh training beneath his skin. 

“P—pet…” you whisper, hopelessly. 

“If you prefer bride, I can call you that.” Illumi offers, flippant, and drags your hand down to his sex. the suddenness in which he forces your fingers to envelop the girth of his soft cock elicits a whimpered protest, one that has him twitching against your fingers.  “It makes no difference to me. Property is property.” for a while, Illumi allows your fist to rest there, giving you time to familiarize with the sensation of him in your palm. he didn’t even force you to watch— not minding that you kept your eyes closed tight and your chin tucked into your chest. “How should I have you first?” inquiring aloud, Illumi takes hold of your fingers and glides them up the length of his cock, pressing the tips against the sensitive slit, and snorts through his nose in approval, before pushing your hand back down to his base, guiding you into a steady, stroking rhythm that had him hardening against your palm. “Should I put you on your knees and have you worship my cock? Etch prayers into it with your tongue?”

your cheeks were even hotter now, teeth sinking into your plush, lower lip as you shied away from his words. you knew he was watching your reaction, and he must’ve read it instantly. “I’d have to teach you, I suppose,” he replies, as if mildly disappointed, “and I’m in no mood to tutor right now. he lets out a soft sigh, releasing your hand, “it would be easier to put you on your back.” your hand slows to a stop, eyes opening wide when you realize his intentions, and his now rock hard cock throbs in your fist. both of his hands came up to frame your face now, tilting it up, forcing you to stare into his obsidian gaze. “I didn’t tell you to stop stroking.” he croons, and the atmosphere around you felt like it weighed a ton, bearing down on your shoulders. you were locked in his stare, with his lips moving inches away from yours, but you found the will to pump him again, your couplet trembling. “It would be very stupid for you to disobey me,” he purrs, and takes a daunting step closer, forcing you to back up. and another, and then another. “I’m glad you know that, at least.” 

he had grown in your hand, and now his cock was thick and solid, and it took both hands to wrap around him. Illumi took a final step towards you, and when you stumbled back this time, the backs of your knees hit the foot of the bed and bent; you clamored backwards on to it. there was a split second where you worried that Illumi’s cock would slip from your hands, but he was right there, climbing atop the mattress and atop you, before you had time to think. his hands never even slipped from your cheeks, until his knees pried a gap between your legs that he could fit into. 

“Hold your legs open.” 

grateful that you could stop stroking, your hands fled to grab on to your thighs, spreading them apart with shame written over your features. you couldn’t look at him any longer, and turn your head against the pillow. 

Illumi blinks, one brow quirking, before flipping the skirt of your gown up on to your belly, exposing your panties. you were embarrassed to admit that you could feel the wet patch that had grown against the cotton even before he pressed the cold pads of his first, two fingers against it. you whimper, and writhe. “Wet already?” he asks, rubbing against the fabric until you tremble and start to inch up the mattress, desperate to get away from the sensation, but one hand grabs your ankle and jerks you back down to him in a swift, rough motion. your dress scrunches up around your waist. “Stay put.” 

you know better than to fight against it, even when he wrenches your panties down, but your heart is revving like an engine, your breath hard to catch. you’re so afraid that this man, this murderer, is going to damage your body simply because he can. that he’ll hurt you in the most intimate ways possible, and there would be no one to save you from his cruelty. 

“Look at it.” 

you could feel the broad, pink tip, prodding against your virgin netherlips and you gasp for air, but turn your head slowly back towards him. you didn’t want to look. you didn’t want to see your assault happen. but you do because you don’t have another choice. “P—please…” 

Illumi doesn’t push himself inside just yet. holding tight at the base of his cock, his hips only hardly jut forward, applying enough pressure for your folds to spread. then, he starts in a nonchalant, but certain voice. “I’m going to fuck your little pussy deep, and hard.” you didn’t even realize you were shaking your head, but you stared at his size, nervously. you couldn’t imagine that thing fitting in your body, but he continues, as if solidifying his threats. “You’ll feel every, single inch. You can scream as loud as you want, cry as much as you want, but you keep your legs wide and accept me. Keep your eyes open and watch me fuck you. If you don’t, your stay here will shorten tremendously. Nod if you understand.” 

you can’t look up at his face, eyes glued to the manhood ready to split you in half, and you swallow hard around the lump in your throat, before you give him half a nod. you can do this, you tried to tell yourself. it’ll only hurt for a second. 

when he forces it inside, you lose your breath completely, yelping when, inch by inch, the thick cock disappears. there’s a sharp, sudden pressure in your depths, and you know this must be the severing of your innocence. “If you get any blood on my sheets, I’ll wrap them around your neck and squeeze.” he mutters, low and threatening. you knew he wasn’t lying. 

 you mewl, and your nails sink into your own, fleshy thighs to grip tighter. you don’t want to break any of his rules. Illumi moans, for the first time, when he’s completely nested to the hilt, one hand reaching for your neck. he doesn’t squeeze, thankfully, but he grips it to pin you against the bed, while the other gropes your breast through the ivory bust. he’s still staring, watching how you flinch and whine as you struggle to accommodate him. “You’re a tight, little thing.” he doesn’t sound particularly happy or disappointed by the fact, but he punctuates the statement with a strong rock of his hips, slamming himself home. your back arches, and you cry out, mouth hanging slack, at just how much force was behind each slow, deep thrust. 

he hadn’t been bluffing. 

you could feel every, thick inch as your walls stretch and spasm around him, flittering wildly against the pulsing veins that bulge and scrape against your sensitivity. his bulbous tip pummels knotted nerves relentlessly until you feel tears well up in your eyes. whether it’s pain or pleasure, you can’t tell the difference. 

Illumi starts to look, and sound, more human with each thrust— his lids sag low, his jaw works, and he snorts through his nose. you could even see a faint twinkle of perspiration against his temple. he’s hunched forward, hovering above, pressing his forehead to yours. his wet hair draping over you like a black curtain, engulfing you in his scent, making it hard to see anything except what he wanted you to. which was him, decimating you. “You look pathetic, bleary eyed and whiny,” he started, his breath in warm puffs against the cold tears on your cheeks. each word seems is separated by the sensation of him pounding into you, the sound of his body slapping against yours, and your own slick squelching hideously. “But you’re still taking it.” he almost sounds… impressed? “Your little pussy is stretched to her limit, but she’s still milking me. Who could’ve known? Behind those tears, there’s a cock-starved, little fuck doll?” 

it was humiliating, degrading, but for some reason— you only clenched around him tighter. you only felt yourself get wetter when his hand careens upwards to grasp your face, keeping it steady as he bullied your guts. your mouth hung open, and just as you’d been given permission to, you let out a lilting shriek. your legs were starting to shake. but, you could also tell that something was building inside of Illumi, too. 

it didn’t take a genius to figure out what it was. 

realizing he had no intentions of pulling out, you squirm, and your hands fall between your bodies to press against his taut abdomen, whimpering a breathy, “Please— don’t— not… inside…” 

but Illumi didn’t stop. he didn’t pull out. he rammed into you just as hard, and your breasts jiggle against the sagging neckline of your dress. you croak, hoarse, and stare up at him, squinting against his cruelty. “You’re my bride, aren’t you?” he croons, dark eyes expecting ( and receiving ) a submissive, yet reluctant nod. “Then act like it. Beg me to breed you.” 

sniffling, your nails barely scrape at his flesh, and you gurgle a soft and pathetic, wet eyes full of protest, “P—please… breed me… Cum in me… please, Illumi—“ 

Illumi groans in approval, a wicked smile spreading across his tiers when he comes undone. both of his hands wrap around your throat now, and he buries himself as deep as he can force to pump you full of his warm release. even as you snub and squirm and gurgle, you can feel how full you are of him, and it’s a sickening feeling. 

he’s released you a few moments later, favoring his side of the massive bed, and you remain on your back, legs open and quivering, core feeling hollowed out and sore, for a while before he murmurs, “You’ll need to tend to my wet clothes, and do away with that tattered dress, before you can rest.” 

blinking, you take a couple of breaths before slowly closing your legs. the muscles are aching, and you have to do everything at a snail’s pace, including pulling yourself off the mattress. when your feet hit the cold, hard floor, your knees want to buckle. you’re wobbly at best, one hand gripping your lower belly as you let out a whispered cry discomfort. the bridal gown hangs askew on your body, now stained with more than just blood and sweat, and you stumble, awkward on your own, two legs, over to the pile of wet clothes. gathering them all up, you hug them close to your chest and turn to look at him, meek and bashful. how hopeless you must appear to him in this moment. “What do I… what do I do with them?” 

Illumi looks at you, unblinking, and runs his fingers through his hair as he props up on his elbow. he’s shameless in the way he’s splayed, nude across the bed, his soft cock draped over his thigh. “The butler will meet you at the door, he’ll show you the laundry and where to bathe and dress.” he tilts his head, watching you stumble, still disoriented and uncertain, towards the door. you can’t really see it in the dark, but there’s a faint fondness in the depth of his eyes. “Hurry back, too.” 

curious, you nibble on your lower lip and push the door open. just as he’d said, a tall man clad in a crisp suit is waiting on the other side. there’s a glimmer of distaste for how filthy you are as he sees you, but it’s gone in an instant as he grabs hold of your elbow, none too gentle. you look over your shoulder at Illumi, and blurt out before the man can drag you away, “Aren’t you worried I might r— run away or something?” 

the worst part about Illumi’s smile is that his eyes turned icy and diabolical when his lips curved upwards; the two counterparts didn’t match. “And go to whom?” he asks, taunting, before adding simply because he could: “I killed everyone that knew or cared about you already, remember?”

[rat-typewriter]

HATING WEDDINGS - DABI X READER

SUMMARY: just hours before you’re due to marry a man you don’t love, Dabi comes to change your mind.

Warnings: Swearing ig?? if that’s a warning lol

Proofread?: Not for even one second 😌

You sat, staring at your reflection - the stylist nervously tried to meet your eyes in the mirror. It was the third hairstyle she had tried in two hours. 

“It’s nice.” You said, attempting to mask the disappointment in your voice - but judging by the way your soon-to-be mother-in-law rolled her eyes and huffed, you were still a bad liar. 

Over the year that you had known the woman, the only thing you seemed to have in common was a mutual dislike for one another. You were not the sort of bride she wanted for her son - but this wasn’t about love or fairy-tales or happy endings. It was strictly business. 

Quirk marriages were much more common than most people would’ve liked to believe; they paid well too. You’d been found by the guy’s father - an owner of a wealthy construction company - who knew your quirk would be an invaluable asset to their business. It wasn’t the life you had imagined for yourself, but at least money would never be an issue for you again.

Your mother-in-law had pulled the hairstylist into the doorway - as if standing a few feet away suddenly made you incapable of hearing their hushed voices. Your legs seemed to be buzzing with adrenaline that only seemed to be getting worse as the ceremony drew closer and your head was starting to feel slightly too light for the rest of your body - as if it was fading into a puff of smoke. 

Just as you began to half-heartedly wonder if you might be about to vomit: your phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number flashed up on your screen.

Last chance.

Quickly, you swiped the message away - averting your gaze, instead focusing on the colours of nail polish picked out for you. You had no idea that there could be so many shades of white: eggshell, cream, ivory, pearl, snow, chiffon, porcelain-

Now or never.

You stared at the text, your legs becoming more restless than ever. Now or never had become an almost-inside joke between the two of you - a secret reference to the first time you met that you both dropped into as many conversations as you could. Now or never summed up everything about the two of you.

—

You stumbled through the snowy alleyway, still reeling from excitement - and smoke inhalation. Your whole life you’d wanted to do that. To burn something. Not to light people’s cigarettes or warm their cold hands or melt their icy car doors. To burn something. 

Despite your blackened clothes and singed hair, the cold was starting to numb your fingers. The night air was freezing; turning your breath to fog in the dark. Your flimsy canvas shoes had long been soaked-through by the wintry slush that covered the streets - you hoped it wasn’t far. 

You hoped this place was even real. 

You reached a metal door - dented and dimly lit by a flickery yellow bulb - and knocked. Do you knock at a villain’s hideout? You wondered to yourself, beginning to feel nervous. Everything you knew about this place had come from whispers on shady streets or out the back of bars. 

Pulling you from your thoughts, the door swung open - the metal groaning as its hinges scraped together.

You couldn’t quite see the person who had opened the door, as they stood a few feet back - hidden by the darkness - but his voice was low and raspy when he spoke.

“Coming in?” 

You stood, staring into the black - your legs suddenly made of lead, but your chest alive with electricity. 

Another moment passed, the quiet filled by your soft breath turning to fog. A van rumbled past on the road and you caught yourself glancing back, watching as it rolled by. 

“Now or never.” He said and you turned back to face him. 

“Better be now then.” You said hoarsely - your throat burning as you spoke. 

The stranger stepped back and a yellowy strip of light crossed his face, illuminating his features. His skin was littered with scars you recognised as burns - something you had become familiar with, over the years of being unable to control your fire quirk - but beneath them he was young, no older than you.

His eyes crinkled slightly and he grinned - which suddenly sent sparks of fear and excitement through your chest again.

“Come on in then, sparky.” 

—

It was the fifth time that your phone buzzed - two minutes before the ceremony was to begin - that you gave in. 

You suddenly jumped out of your seat, the bridesmaid (who you barely even knew) and had been fixing your hair stumbled back.

“I- Uh,” you stammered as the other bridesmaids turned to stare at you. “I’m going to the toilet.” 

And you took off. 

You stumbled out of the door and down the hallway in shoes that were horrendously uncomfortable. You took a left, then a right, then a left again - until you found an open window. 

Without thinking, you forced the window as wide as it would go and shimmied through - tumbling out and into a bush.

As you attempted to pull yourself out and untangle your clothes - which had caught in the branches - you heard a familiar laugh. 

“Wow. Bit desperate to leave are we?” 

You whipped around, finding yourself face-to-face with Dabi. 

“Didn’t think you missed me that much,”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out and your brain was suddenly empty. Butterflies erupted in your stomach - the boy who you hadn’t seen in over a year was still able to make you nervous.

He grinned - oh how you’d missed that - and laughed again. “You look gorgeous, Doll.”

“Thanks,” you breathed - a little lightheaded. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

He stepped forwards - rolling his eyes; offering a hand to pull you out of the bush. “Oh, how you flatter me,”

Accepting the hand, you let him heave you out of the bush - pulling you far closer than necessary. You stood practically against his chest, having to crane your neck slightly to look him in the eyes. 

You swallowed and felt your face grow hot. 

God he knew just how to make you feel sixteen all over again.

"I've missed you." You breathed.

He smiled - with only a hint of his usual smugness. "I've missed you too, Sweetheart,"

His hand found its way to your waist and he bent down, quickly kissing you. It wasn't long or passionate or hot. Just a regular, discrete peck on the lips.

But God did it make you fall in love all over again.

The sound of voices suddenly echoed around the corner and Dabi glanced around. He took a step back and turned to you with that slightly-terrifying, but oh-so-exhilarating grin.

“What do you say we get out of here?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He extended his hand to you, faking a courteous bow and in return you grinned and curtseyed. Giggling slightly, you put your hand in his and he pressed a brief kiss to your knuckles - winking up at you.

"Dabi Todoroki I never knew you were such a gentleman!" 

"If you ever tell anyone, I'll have to kill you" 

For a moment, his tone is so serious that you almost believe him - but then he smiles and tugs on your hand.

"C'mon, I hate weddings." 

"Me too." You giggled.

With your hand in his, you both took off running.

[imaginedreamwrite]

Please continue that CEO Ari and waitress reader! She's gonna head straight to the wedding right?

Escorted from the hellhole to a Rolls Royce, you were guarded until the vehicle stopped at the Boston Harbour Hotel. The moment the vehicle rolled to a stop, the door had been opened and the security surrounding the vehicle had increased from 3 to 7. There was no shortage of men flanking you, no shortage of finely cut suits cutting you off from the outside world and every attempt to flee.

They dictated where you would move by keeping you locked in the middle of their escort service. Your cheap shoes had long been digging into the soles of your feet but even that had been numbed by fear. You had no idea what was going on, why you were being dragged from your job to this overpriced hotel and further to a bridal suite that should not be yours.

You were confused by it all. Confused and afraid by the invitation you had been given, and the news anchor who spoke about Ari Levinson’s bride, which had been mistakingly listed as you.

“Everything is ready,” the doors opened and a consigliere scurried from the interior of the building, nervously raking her hands down the front of her uniform, “for Mr. Levinson’s fiancée-”

“Move.” The man in front of this escort bubble had given an order, a single word that had the woman stepping back to let them through.

While there was no shortage of things that could have caught your eye, you were looking for some kind of escape route. You’d been looking for something, some break that would let you slip between them and find your way home. You wanted to run, you had to run, you had to flee and find your way out of this situation.

And yet you knew that if you’d dare try these 7 men would stop you.

“The bridal suite,” a bellhop stepped into the elevator with you, led by a silent order, and pressed the gold lines button for the penthouse suites, “is beautiful, you’ll love it.”

He was peaking to you as if you’d chosen this, as if this was your desire and your passion to marry the devil incarnate that claimed you were his. The bellhop couldn’t have helped you, not with the seven men where guarding you and not when the elevator had been steadily rising.

“Picturesque views and crystal chandeliers, gold flecked tiles-” you turned into your own head, you escaped the chatter while your heart pounded and your hands trembled.

2 floors away, and you thought maybe you could Will yourself to pass out. Maybe you could make your brain short circuit, and then they would have to take you to the hospital.

1 floor away and you thought about throwing yourself against one of the men and fighting with all you had in you. If there was possibility of your flight or fight instincts producing enough adrenaline for you to fight them all off, then it had to happen now.

“The future Mrs. Levinson, God you’re beautiful!” The doors opened, you had stepped off in a daze and it was only when a man had chirped at you with a blazer compliment that you’d snapped out of your head.

“Excuse me?” You bared the question and had nearly forgotten what you’d spoken when you looked at the wedding dress hanging off the drawing rack.

The ivory coloured dress was form fitting and had a semi-transparent corset with a heart cutout, decorated with lace with silver embroidery. The lines of the corset was visible and would fully embrace the curve of your breasts, waist and hips while exemplifying the shape of your body in a manner fitting a modern day princess. And the added sleeves had turned this dress from a shiny and flashing gown into something entirely elegant and breathtaking.

Even as confused and afraid as you were, you had to note the beauty of the dress.

“Beautiful isn’t it? You’re going to be anyone every wants to be.” The stylist, you assumed, had come to stand near you and spoke as if this was an every day affair.

As if women had been kidnapped and coerced into a marriage despite never meeting the groom in person.

“We’ve got a lot to do sweetie, so why don’t you go head to the shower and we’ll get set up.” The stylist had turned you by grabbing your shoulders and pushing you in the direction of the bathroom, steering you away.

“No wait, wait…” you found your voice and dug your heels into the carpet, stalling the process. “Wait-!”

The doors to the bedroom opened like something out of a movie, and you’d half expected a plume is smoke and hellfire to follow the man in question as he stepped out. Your eyes fell to him, naturally drawn to the sheer size of him as he, would clearly, tower over you. While it appeared that he dressed casually for him, what he was wearing was nothing short of immaculate and suave, despite your apprehension of the devil.

“I’ve been waiting for you, sweetheart. We should have a conversation before you get ready for our wedding.”

“Fuck you,” you spat your disgust at him, immediately flying into a fuelled rage as you stalked toward him and started swatting your hands in a flurries attack, “who the fuck do you think you are?!”

Your hands made contact once, and in that moment you hadn’t truly been made aware of the desire and heat present in his eyes.

Not until he had grabbed your wrists in one hand and turned you, pushing you back against the doorframe. He pinned you to the threshold of the door with his body, burning blue eyes staring deep into your soul.

“I’m your husband, Y/N. And you’re my wife.”

[charlotte-of-wales]

The royal wedding of Felipe, the Prince of Asturias and Letizia Ortiz ♡

The wedding of Prince Felipe and Letizia Ortiz was held on May 22nd 2004, in the Santa María la Real de La Almudena Cathedral at the Royal Palace of Madrid, Spain. The couple’s engagement was announced on November 1st, 2003.

The wedding was the first state wedding in Spain for more than 50 years, and the first royal wedding in almost a century to be held in the Spanish capital. More than 1200 guests attended the wedding, including from 36 royal houses and almost every head of state from Latin America.

Letizia wore the Prussian Tiara, also worn by Queen Sofia at her wedding. The wedding dress, designed by Manuel Pertegaz, was white, tight around the waist, with long sleeves, a neckline in the shape of a corolla, a wide skirt and a 4.5-meter long train embroidered with heraldic motifs. The bride's gown was woven with Valencia silk and embroidered with silver and gold threads. The nuptial veil was a gift from the Prince to Letizia; with a triangular shape, three meters long by two wide, of natural silk tulle in ivory white with scrolls and hand-embroidered wreaths, which mixed the fleur-de-lis and the spike. The shoes were made by the illicitana designer Pura López. Felipe wore the Great Tag suit of the Army.

Upon the wedding, Letizia received all constitutional titles recognized to the Prince as heir to the Spanish throne, such as: The Prince and Princess of Asturias, the title of the heir of the Crown of Castile; The Prince and Princess of Gerona, the title of the heir of the Crown of Aragón; The Prince and Princess of Viana, the title of the heir of the Kingdom of Navarre; The Duke and Duchess of Montblanch; The Count and Countess of Cervera; The Lord and Lady of Balaguer.

The royal wedding was broadcast by Spanish public television, reaching a national record as the most-watched television program ever with 25.1 million viewers in Spain alone. Approximately 5,600 media outlets from around the world covered the wedding with a potential audience of between 1.2 and 2 billion.

[teamwindsorroyals]

This video features a discussion of the bride's ensemble. Here are more details:

Custom Emma Victoria Payne wedding dress and veil.

Long sleeved gown made in ivory silk with crepe satin and silk organza, with a scalloped edge neckline and open back with a bias-cut skirt.

Bespoke embroidery design on the bridal gown and veil - hand drawn and includes floral motifs and edgings from Olivia’s great great grandmother’s veil from around 1880.

Faberge Myrtle Leaf Tiara, created in 1906. It was commissioned for Lord Hugh Grosvenor's wedding to Lady Mabel Crichton and is a favourite of Grosvenor brides.

Bouquet of flowers consists of meadow grass, Ox eye daisies, Iris, Rose, Clematis, Mock orange, Scabious, Sweet pea, Astrantia, Martagon lily and Love in a mist: all picked from Eaton Hall, the Grosvenor family seat.

Velvet bowed shoes ‘Valentina’ by Spanish brand, Silvia Lago.

Maybe The Pippa (shown in the link above) is inspired by Pippa's dress?

[countessofravenclaw]

Prompt 11 for León and Simón?

Cousins are shit-talking their family members during a family event

Wohoooo! Someone who is a fan of my Simon x Leon cousin hcs!

"Hey, Simon!" Simon turned around when he heard his name called. His cousin Leon Vargas was standing next to where they were sitting, "These seats taken?"

It was beautiful midday at Cancun beach, a perfect day for a wedding. Well, that was the reason they were there. Simon's brother Julio was getting married, a day that Simon thought he would never get to see, but here they still were.

"No, all yours," Simon gestured to the seats next to him, "Where is Violetta."

"Wardrobe malfunction," Leon shook his head, "She'll be here soon. It gotta say, I am surprised to see you. I thought you'd be a groomsman."

"I was asked, don't worry. We haven't fallen out or anything," Simon chuckled, "But, I can't saddle Ambar with Ivory the whole day." Simon bounced his knee where the one-year-old Ivory was happily sitting on.

"So this is Ivory," Leon held his hand out to her, "Hello miss. Might I say, you look lovely in pink."

"Takes after her mother," Simon smiled toward Ambar who was sitting on his right and fanning herself with a fan. A month before the wedding they had found out that Ambar was in fact four weeks along on her second pregnancy. She had had couple cases of severe morning sickness. Simon had told her that she didn't need to come to the wedding but she had insisted. They had a room in the same hotel as the reception was being held so she could up and rest of necessary and Simon would be taking care of Ivory.

"Another summer, another Alvarez wedding," Leon sighed, "It feels like yesterday when you got married."

"Trust me, sometimes it does. Sometimes It feels like I had had my girls all my life."

"Simon is convinced that this one will also be a girl," Ambar said gesturing to her stomach.

"By the way, congratulations.! Leon exclaimed. The news had been shared with Simon's close family two weeks before the wedding so accidental reveals would not happen, even if Ambar was not yet showing.

"I'm here, I am not late am I?" Violetta Castillo suddenly ran up to them and sat next to Leon.

"Just in time."

"Good. I had to go with the backup shoes." Violetta shook her head and them nodded her head toward Simon and Ambar. "Oh hi Simon, Ambar. And this must be Ivory.

"We are gonna need make sure she doesn't steal the show," Simon laughed, "Otherwise the bride will hate us." Ivory way to small to have been part of the wedding party. Valeria was going to be the flower girl and her little brother Garen was the ring bearer. Julio's bride, Lina, didn't have any children in her family.

"Just don't let Aunt Mariella close to her." Leon remarked.

"Don't worry, I won't."

"She is the worst."

"I know. We didn't invite her to our wedding. I though I'd never need to see her again."

"Who are you talking about?" Violetta questioned.

"She is a cousin of our mother's," Leon explained, "A full nightmare."

"She's Julio's godmother." Simon continued, "She basically believes that is you are not a lawyer or a doctor, you are basically unemployed. This is especially the case with the entertainment industry. We better not let it slip what we're all doing."

"She hates pop musicians," Leon rolled his eyes.

"If I need to talk to her today, I will just keep repeating that Ambar's a lawyer and that my friend is a high-ranking engineer at the Castillo corporations and their daughter is our god-daughter. Maybe that should make her forget to ask what is my job." Simon explained.

"Good idea," Leon laughed, "I have Castillo's daughter here, so Vilu can serve as the distraction."

"Leon! I don't know anything about engineering, that won't work." Violetta gave Leon the murder glare. "You know I shudder to think of the day the whole company is mine, you know, once Dad dies."

You are welcome! Girl Dad Simon and Leonetta and Simbar interactions in one story.

[maidofgoldengrove]

Kat in bridal garb Maiden or not, she’s still a very pretty bride Interestingly enough, it’s not too different from something she’d wear for any other nice occasion, the one big difference would be the quality and amount of finer materials. Myrish lace for example is something very few of her other gowns have, as it’s a hella expensive and fancy type of fabric, but her wedding gown would be allowed some extra. It is also in an overall much lighter and delicate color than she’d normally wear. Other than the lace at the trims on the lover part of sleeves, within the slashed and puffed upper part and along the neckline, the gown is made of an ivory silk, lined with satin and have trims of gold. The points/laces on the sleeves are woven golden silk and each has a pearl attacked, and there are pearls along the neckline at at the top of each slash on the sleeves. The bodice is laced up along the back. Her necklace’s are gold chains, one with a pendant of gold, pearls, white enamel and a diamond.  She also wears several gold rings, either plain or with pearls or diamonds. Her earrings are pearls and gold.  Kat really likes pearls.   Her hair is in a partially braided updo, with a hairnet and ribbon of woven ivory silk and pearls, but the full length of her hair is still visible.  Undergarments:  - A very fine snowy white linen or silk shift  - Silk stockings  - Shoes of white leather, decorated with slashes and laced up. 

I’ve mentioned it in a precious headcanon, that by the start of the series, Kat has two wedding dresses she never had a chance to wear; one incomplete and intended for her wedding to Garlan Tyrell which was called off, and one completed for her wedding to Steffon Cuy, but he died before the wedding and she ended up outgrowing it.  This is just one example of an actually completed gown for a 20-something year old Kat, likely using fabrics from the precious gowns.  Highborn or not, fabric is expensive and should not be wasted. Her maidens cloak is a heavy and very old thing, but looks less old than it is. It’s been passed down through several generations (any Rowan can request to use it for their wedding), carefully maintained and added to by Rowan maidens. It’s base is cloth of silver, the lining a silvery silk. It’s trims are cloth of gold, and it is decorated with embroideries of gold and silver thread, a large number of pearls and it’s clasp and chain is gold too. (See the full cloak design HERE) You have to coconsciously stand straight with this cloak on your shoulders, or the weight of it will quickly make you slouch. Rowan maidens who have had to wear it throughout an entire wedding ceremony have complained that their shoulders and neck were stiff afterwards from the strain of wearing the weight of the cloak.  There have been instances in the past when the cloak caused some embarrassment too. At the end of the ceremony, a young Rowan bridegroom was handed the cloak to put it around his bride’s shoulders, but he was not the strongest, and his bride was taller than him. He struggled to put the cloak properly around her shoulders and it slipped off once before he managed it. 

[welldonebeca]

The Duchess and the Bastard (XIII) - A Bride

WC: 1k words Warnings: Fluff. Victorian AU. Marriage.

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and helps a lot while I go through these hard times.

Masterlist

Leia’s hands were delicate on Rey’s hair as she braided it.

Alderaanian tradition dictated that a mother should braid her daughter’s hair for her wedding day, with bride’s braids, But Rey didn’t have a mother, and her grandmother could take this place, her future mother-in-law had asked to do so, and Rey couldn’t deny her.

“Beautiful,” she pined the last of her hair with her veil, strategically positioned with the tiara. “Look.”

Rey took in a deep breath, looking at herself.

It was her wedding day, after the longest wait - half a year, but it felt like forever - and a lot of preparations.

At last, she was going to be married to Ben.

“Thank you for doing this,” she looked up at Leia.

“Thank you for letting me,” her groom’s mother rubbed her shoulder gently. “It is my pleasure. Now come here," Leia offered her hands to hold. "Let me look at you."

Rey stood up, a little nervous, and Ben's mother took a hand to her chin, raising it.

The Princess was a small woman, in height and general size. Rey was tall for a woman - she took it from her mother's side. Grandma Sabé, who looked very much like Rey when she was young, was just as tell, and her mother too - but she still stood over a head taller than her.

"I always wanted a daughter," she confessed. "But Ben was such a huge baby. I didn't feel ready to try for a second after him."

Rey chuckled, but stopped for a moment. If Ben was a big baby, did that mean they were going to have big babies?

"Oh, don't worry, you are bigger than me," she reminded Rey. "You're tall, and you got the right hips, nothing like me at your age."

She smiled a little, thought still wary, and Leia adjusted her veil.

"Anyway, he was born at sea, did you know? I squatted right over hand, holding onto Chewie, his major, and pushed Ben out in the middle of a storm," she chuckled. "My brother almost had a heart attack."

Rey laughed, and Leia just grinned along, taking a hand up her face and caressing it gently.

"But I got you now," she affirmed. "Now, with the words. Something old..." she took her hands to her veil - something from her mother, Ben's grandmother, Queen Padmé. "Something new."

"The dress," Rey told her.

It was an ivory piece, beautiful and lovely made by the royal seamstress.

"Yes," the princess agreed. "Something borrowed, the Tiara."

She was wearing the ancient Naberrie tiara, which belonged to Leia and was passed down to the women of the Naberrie family.

"And something blue, your flowers," Leia finished it.

Rey nodded, happy.

Her wedding was full of blue hydrangeas, her favourite flowers, and she was having them as her bouquet.

She had thought about having something different and more traditional, but Ben was insistent they did everything with her favourite flowers.

“And a six-pence in your shoe,” she winked.

Rey grinned, relaxing, looking at the door, and took in a deep breath. Grandfather would be there any time now.

“Your Royal Highness?”

Princess Leia looked at her face, and the young bride shifted a little on her feet.

“How does it feel?” she asked. “To be married?”

Her eyes fell on Rey’s, and her soon to be mother-in-law smiled gently.

“Let me tell you a story,” she decided. “Before Han I thought marriage was not for me. That it was just someone who was going to annoy me my for the rest of my life, ruin my life with his snoring, sit in my favourite chair when I wanted to to and all that.”

Rey nodded along, listening to her, and Leia sighed softly.

“And then I got with Han, and time passed. The first Winter we spent together, he sat on my favourite chair far too many times, and woke up in the middle of the night with his snoring, and complained back wheneber I complained about anything to him. And then he left…” she told her, and stopped, eyes filling up with tears. “And for the next 30 something Springs, Autumns and Summers, I would crave the day Winter came back, so that I could have him again.”

She reached for Rey and adjusted her necklace for a moment.

“Now, we fight over sitting of that chair every time we have tea,” she told her. “And I love every second of it.”

Rey smiled. Most of her life had been filled with loneliness. Her status and her grandfather’s age always ended up making her spend a lot more time alone than any other girl her age growing up, and while she had Rose as a friend, they couldn’t spend as much time together as she wanted.

Ben was her future husband, yes, but he was also her friend. She knew they could talk about everything, and soon their family would grow.

She would never be alone again.

A knock on the door made them both look at it, and it slowly opened to reveal her grandfather waiting.

“Rebecca?” he spoke softly.

She smiled, and he exhaled, eyes filling with tears and he took her image in.

“You are beautiful,” he declared, squeezing his cane tightly in his hand. “A true angel.”

Her heart rushed in her chest, eager and happy.

“Do you really like it?” Rey looked at herself, unsure. Her dress was so simple, maybe she could have asked for more from the seamstress.

Grandfather nodded again, emphatic.

There was no single moment in her life that she didn’t feel loved by him. He had been no less than a dedicated father to her, loving Rey and always trying his best to make her life good.

“I love it,” he affirmed.

She smiled, breathing in and out.

“Is it time already?” Princess Leia asked.

“Yes, your highness,” he confirmed.

rey squeezed her flowers a little tighter.

It was time.

“Come Rey,” her future mother-in-law offered her a hand. “Let’s get you and my son married.”

…

“The Duchess and the Bastard” was posted on my Patreon back in April! To read the full story before anyone else and have early access to all of my works, subscribe to my page! It’s just $2 a month!

…

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[freyarosedesigner]

Green Wedding Shoes: Something Unique for Brides

As we all know that wedding is considered the biggest day of one’s life as he or she is stepping into the other part of life with hope, happiness, and love. Here comes the need for the perfect outfit along with the perfect pair of shoes that one might like to wear on their special day. As the color green signifies luck, so people tend to choose this color with the hope to spend their upcoming life in love, laughter, and happiness. With aesthetic beliefs, a bride who wears Green Wedding Shoes is just like calm water, life-giving, and endlessly loyal.

Reasons to choose green on your special day:

First and foremost, green is the color that can be paired with almost any color that the bride opts for the gown. Though it isn’t a necessity to opt for bright green or parrot green colored heels to pair with the wedding gown, pale and subtle green would also do great on the wedding day. Though bright colors are never a bad choice anyway. Green color just looks perfect with any colored gown whether it is white, blue-black, or ivory. Wedding shoes of green color are indeed ideal for an outdoor wedding, especially at any season as it compliments bouquets of flowers and greenery, reconnecting the soul with mother earth.

Choose the type:

Are you comfortable in high heels or does a mid-sized heel suit you the best? Choosing the basic thing is indeed a necessity. Comfort undoubtedly is basic and also necessary, but one must also consider the walk and the stride. Wedding day gives an individual a unique opportunity to make, the most beautiful and memorable entrance and walk of a lifetime; do take advantage and opt for the shoe that gives you grace and confidence to walk down the aisle. Green wedding shoes are somewhat unique in their own way. These shoes can be worn again and again and whenever an individual wears the same, she is undoubtedly transported to the happiest day of her life. Green heels can be worn to one’s own wedding, to a meal or a supper, and even to a friend’s big day.

When the color is green:

When the bride has opted for blue wedding shoes, now the point is which shade of blue to choose just to complement the wedding gown as well as match the theme of the party. Green color makes the wedding look contemporary and as they are designed with elegance and style by the designers, they prove to be perfect for many brides. Usually, the wedding shoes are stitched using the finest materials such as blue Duchess silk satin and Swarovski crystals for a jewelled blue shoe. The shoes are indeed handmade using luxurious soft blue silk-satin. These green-colored wedding and occasion shoes are perfect for adding style to your wedding look. Every pair of green heels is handmade and has a unique wearable work of art that makes the wedding memorable.

If a person wants to follow a real style statement, then opting for Cher Verde will be a perfect heel for one. The 5.2-inch block heel is designed with a 3 cm platform and the detailing of the heel is done in the best of ways. The Green Wedding Shoes are inlaid with green abalone and mother of pearl and the finishing is done with brass in a stunning pattern that makes one go crazy.

If an individual opts for a little lower heel, then Zahra Verde is the perfect option for them. It has a 3.5 inch heel with a proper 3 cm platform, which gives perfect support to the wearer. The craftsmen select the satin and design the shoes with utmost perfection. Such shoes are a perfect fit for making one’s big day memorable.

As we all know that wedding is considered the biggest day of one’s life as he or she is stepping into the other part of life with hope, happiness, and love. Here comes the need for the perfect outfit along with the perfect pair of shoes that one might like to wear on their special day. As the color green signifies luck, so people tend to choose this color with the hope to spend their upcoming life in love, laughter, and happiness. With aesthetic beliefs, a bride who wears Green Wedding Shoes is just like calm water, life-giving, and endlessly loyal.

Reasons to choose green on your special day:

First and foremost, green is the color that can be paired with almost any color that the bride opts for the gown. Though it isn’t a necessity to opt for bright green or parrot green colored heels to pair with the wedding gown, pale and subtle green would also do great on the wedding day. Though bright colors are never a bad choice anyway. Green color just looks perfect with any colored gown whether it is white, blue-black, or ivory. Wedding shoes of green color are indeed ideal for an outdoor wedding, especially at any season as it compliments bouquets of flowers and greenery, reconnecting the soul with mother earth.

Choose the type:

Are you comfortable in high heels or does a mid-sized heel suit you the best? Choosing the basic thing is indeed a necessity. Comfort undoubtedly is basic and also necessary, but one must also consider the walk and the stride. Wedding day gives an individual a unique opportunity to make, the most beautiful and memorable entrance and walk of a lifetime; do take advantage and opt for the shoe that gives you grace and confidence to walk down the aisle. Green wedding shoes are somewhat unique in their own way. These shoes can be worn again and again and whenever an individual wears the same, she is undoubtedly transported to the happiest day of her life. Green heels can be worn to one’s own wedding, to a meal or a supper, and even to a friend’s big day.

When the color is green:

When the bride has opted for blue wedding shoes, now the point is which shade of blue to choose just to complement the wedding gown as well as match the theme of the party. Green color makes the wedding look contemporary and as they are designed with elegance and style by the designers, they prove to be perfect for many brides. Usually, the wedding shoes are stitched using the finest materials such as blue Duchess silk satin and Swarovski crystals for a jewelled blue shoe. The shoes are indeed handmade using luxurious soft blue silk-satin. These green-colored wedding and occasion shoes are perfect for adding style to your wedding look. Every pair of green heels is handmade and has a unique wearable work of art that makes the wedding memorable.

If a person wants to follow a real style statement, then opting for Cher Verde will be a perfect heel for one. The 5.2-inch block heel is designed with a 3 cm platform and the detailing of the heel is done in the best of ways. The Green Wedding Shoes are inlaid with green abalone and mother of pearl and the finishing is done with brass in a stunning pattern that makes one go crazy.

If an individual opts for a little lower heel, then Zahra Verde is the perfect option for them. It has a 3.5 inch heel with a proper 3 cm platform, which gives perfect support to the wearer. The craftsmen select the satin and design the shoes with utmost perfection. Such shoes are a perfect fit for making one’s big day memorable.

Well to conclude, it is better to opt for such shoes as they are not only stunning but also are easily adaptable and suit every function or wedding weather it is in summer, spring or winter season. Therefore, choose the wedding shoes with utmost care so that you can have a perfect blend of the outfit and also the day goes splendid and smooth. To peek into greener options do not forget to dive into the wardrobe of Freya Rose and get the best pair of shoes for yourself.

[outterridge]

[ 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ] ― Jacqueline asks Catelyn for a dance upon hearing a song (at one of their weddings 😭)

Catelyn's dress was heavy, and laced, and absolutely suffocating. Its layers and layers of fabric wove up her body, hugging her figure, until it met a high neckline, fastened around her throat with a row of tightly-wound pearls. She couldn't breathe.

Not through the ceremony, nor the photographs, nor the reception. The entire time, Catelyn was so tightly-wound that her toes clenched in her ivory shoes. She was certain, if she dared to unclench her muscles, she'd pass out on the spot.

It was most difficult when she was dancing with Graham- her husband. The dance was rehearsed, as were most other things that day. Catelyn had grown up pureblood, yes, but not in the high-society that the Outterridges found themselves. As the daughter of a career politician, she didn't learn to waltz or curtsey or last a full day in stiflingly tight and heavy gowns. He'd been gracious when she was learning, kindly dedicating time to their schedule. But that evening, during their first dance as a married couple, Graham didn't look her in the eye once. By the end of the three-minute-and-twenty-second song, she was clutching his suit, terrified that if she let go she'd fall.

The music transitioned easily into another floating song, as others were invited to the dance floor by the MC. Graham's hands holding her upright were quickly replaced by another's: a lithe arm wrapping around her waist.

Jackie pulled her into a hug, and Cat took in a huge gulp of air. She was a lifeline, an atmospheric change in oxygen levels that she needed to survive. "Breathe." The woman reminded her, whispering in her ear, and Catelyn nodded: In her nose, out her mouth.

When Jacqueline finally pulled back, she had her hands on Cat's upper arms, holding her an arm's length away, admiring. Scrutinising.

Cat knew her wedding could never have been as elaborate as her friend's. They planned each wedding together in lieu of studying over their sixth and seventh years. While Graham and his family had thrown every dollar they had at their wedding, determined to make their eldest son's nuptials a classic affair, nothing would be able to compare with the union of Hamilton and Jacqueline.

"You look beautiful," Jackie said, smiling so hard her cheeks creased up into her eyes. It was gracious of her, really. Cat looked like a strong gust of wind might blow her over.

"How much longer until the send off?" Cat asked, raising her brows.

Jackie rolled her eyes, effortlessly turning to grab two flutes of champagne from a waiter, handing one to the bride. "Come on, have a little fun. Dance with me!" She swayed her hips and gulped her champagne, looking utterly ridiculous.

The band, who seemed to be just as transfixed by Jacqueline as everyone else in her immediate orbit, started transitioning the song into something more upbeat. A crowd-favourite, apparently, because the dance floor started getting busier. Cat gave a sigh, knocking back her champagne in one swoop and handing the empty flute to a waiter in one motion.

Then, when Jackie reached for her hands, Cat took them both in her own, and let herself be pulled this way and that, round and round; sucking in each and every breath of fresh air that she could.

[themaresse]

Elegant Silver Clutch Bag: Perfect Bridal Clutch for Wedding Accessories

Your wedding day is one of the most memorable occasions in your life, and every detail counts. Among the many choices you'll make, selecting the perfect bridal clutch is crucial. A silver clutch bag is not just an accessory; it’s a statement piece that enhances your bridal look. Here’s why an elegant silver clutch bag should be your go-to choice for wedding accessories.

Timeless Elegance

The beauty of a silver clutch bag lies in its timeless elegance. Silver is a versatile color that complements any wedding gown, whether you’re wearing classic white, ivory, or a more modern shade. This neutral yet striking hue adds a touch of sophistication and sparkle, making it ideal for any bridal ensemble.

Versatility and Style

One of the standout features of a silver clutch bag is its versatility. It seamlessly fits into various wedding themes, from traditional ceremonies to contemporary celebrations. Whether you’re opting for a vintage-inspired look or a sleek, modern aesthetic, a silver bridal clutch is the perfect accessory to tie your outfit together. Its understated shimmer can elevate even the simplest of wedding gowns, providing a subtle yet impactful style statement.

Practicality Meets Glamour

While aesthetics are important, practicality is also a key consideration for wedding accessories. A silver clutch bag is designed to be both stylish and functional. Despite its elegant appearance, it offers ample space to carry essentials like your phone, lip gloss, and a small mirror. Its compact size ensures you’re not burdened with a large handbag, allowing you to dance and mingle with ease.

A Touch of Sparkle

Every bride deserves a touch of sparkle on her special day. A silver clutch bag adds just the right amount of shimmer without being overly flashy. The metallic finish catches the light beautifully, creating a radiant effect that enhances your overall look. It’s the perfect way to incorporate a bit of glamour into your bridal outfit.

The Perfect Complement

When choosing your bridal clutch, consider how it complements your wedding accessories. A silver clutch bag pairs beautifully with a variety of jewelry styles, from classic diamond pieces to more contemporary accessories. It also harmonizes with different types of shoes and other elements of your bridal attire, ensuring a cohesive and polished look.

Conclusion

Incorporating an elegant silver clutch bag into your wedding accessories is a decision you won’t regret. Its timeless appeal, versatility, and practical design make it the ideal choice for any bride. As you prepare for your special day, let this stunning piece be the finishing touch that brings your bridal look together with grace and sophistication. Choose a silver bridal clutch, and step into your wedding day with confidence and style.