#bridal veil shots

[shaadiwish]

Fantastic Bridal Veil Shots That Stole Our Hearts

[classyhoeeee]

BEST MAN :: Rafe Cameron

WARNING! :: kissing, oral, unprotected sex, teasing, forbidden love, Dom!Rafe, romance, Rafe Cameron x Reader, soft!rafe, cheating, Topper Thorton x Reader (mentioned), public sex, aftercare, slow dancing.

SUMMARY! :: The reader is marrying Topper Thorton, but Rafe doesn’t care in the slightest. As far as he’s concerned, you were his long before the vows, the dress, and the ring. On your wedding day, he’s determined to make you see it—even if it means crossing every line. Including hurting his best friend, Topper.

A/N:: I know I always say this, but this one is my favorite. It’s the perfect combination of filth and fluff. Please read it.

…………………………………………………………………………………

The air in the bridal suite felt heavy, like even the sunlight streaming through the windows couldn’t cut through the weight pressing down on you. The music outside swelled faintly, the distant laughter of guests drifting in through the open window. It should’ve felt like a fairytale, standing there in your white gown, the lace veil framing your face perfectly, but it didn’t.

You smoothed your hands down the front of your dress, trying to steady your breathing. This was the right thing. Topper was a good man…to some—loyal, patient, safe. He’d been everything you’d needed him to be. But as much as you wanted to believe in the words “happily ever after,” something gnawed at you deep inside, something you didn’t want to name.

A loud knock shattered your thoughts, making you jump.

“Hey, open up.”

You froze, your heart dropping. That voice—low, rough, and unmistakable. Rafe.

“Rafe, go home,” you called out, forcing your voice to stay steady. “You don’t need to be here.”

The door creaked open anyway, and when you turned, he was already inside, closing the door behind him.

“Do you even know how to listen?” you snapped, but it came out more exasperated than anything else.

Rafe just leaned against the door, his arms crossed, looking at you with that familiar mix of cocky and dangerous. His dress shirt was half-buttoned, his sleeves rolled up, his jaw clenched like he was barely holding himself together. His eyes swept over you, slow and deliberate, and the way they lingered made your soft brown skin prickle.

“You’re really doing this?” he asked, his voice low and sharp.

You turned back to the mirror, refusing to meet his gaze. “Yes, Rafe. I’m really doing this. So if you’re here to cause a scene, please get the fuck out.”

He laughed, but it was humorless. “Yeah, no. Not happening.”

You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment. “Why are you in here? Why today, Rafe? Why now?”

“Because someone’s gotta stop you from fucking up your life,” he said, his voice harsh and unapologetic.

You spun around to face him, your anger bubbling to the surface. “What the hell is wrong with you? This is not your decision to make! You don’t get to just barge in here and act like—”

“Like what?” he interrupted, his voice rising. “Like I give a fuck about you? Like I’ve been sitting around watching you play house with Top, knowing damn well he’ll never give you what you really need?”

You flinched, his words hitting too close to home. “Don’t do this shit, Rafe. Don’t make this about you.”

“It’s not just about me, and you know it,” he said, stepping closer. His eyes bore into yours, unrelenting. “This? You and him? It’s bullshit, and we both know it. You’re just too scared to admit it.”

“Scared of what?” you shot back, your voice shaking.

“Of me,” he said, his voice dropping. “Of us. Of what you really want.”

You shook your head, backing away until you hit the edge of the vanity. “Stop doing that. Stop acting like you know me. You don’t know what I want, Rafe.”

He closed the distance between you in two strides, his hands bracing on either side of you, trapping you in. “The fuck I don’t,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “You think I don’t see it? The way you look at me when you think no one’s watching? The way you can’t even say his name without hesitating? You don’t love him. Not the way you’re supposed to.”

Your chest tightened, and you swallowed hard, your throat thick with emotion. “You don’t understand,” you whispered. “Topper—he’s good to me. He’s… safe. I can’t hurt him like this. I’m not that girl.”

Rafe’s laugh was sharp and bitter. “Safe?” he spat. “That’s what you want? Someone who’s ‘safe’? I think you’re full of shit, and you know it.”

“Why are you doing this?” you asked, your voice cracking. “Why on my wedding day, Rafe? You’re supposed to be his best friend!”

His jaw clenched, and he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your face. “Because I don’t give a fuck about being his best friend. I don’t give a fuck about anyone when it comes to you. You’re mine.”

Your breath caught, and tears welled in your brown eyes. “You can’t just… You can’t keep saying shit like that and expect me to—”

“To what?” he cut you off, his voice rising again. “To ignore it? To go play house with Topper and pretend like this—us—doesn’t exist?”

You shook your head, the tears spilling over. “You’re gonna ruin everything,” you whispered.

“Good,” he said, his voice harsh. “I’ll ruin it all if it means you don’t marry him.”

“Rafe—”

He didn’t let you finish. His lips crashed into yours, cutting off whatever protest you were about to make. The kiss was rough, desperate, and overwhelming. His hands gripped your waist, pulling you against him like he was afraid you’d slip away.

For a moment, you froze, your mind screaming at you to stop, to push him away, to think of Topper. But then his lips moved against yours, and something in you broke. Slowly, almost hesitantly, you kissed him back, your hands gripping the front of his shirt as you melted into him.

It was like the rest of the world fell away—no wedding, no guests, no consequences. Just you and Rafe, tangled in something you couldn’t deny any longer.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing hard. His hands stayed on your waist, holding you in place, and his blue eyes burned into your soft brown ones, searching, waiting.

You stared back at him, your mind racing, your heart pounding.

Neither of you spoke. Neither of you moved.

The muffled sound of the wedding music drifted in through the window, a stark reminder of the life waiting for you outside that door. But in that moment, with Rafe’s hands on you and his lips still tingling on yours, you weren’t sure if you could walk away.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to.

——

Topper tugged at the collar of his perfectly tailored suit, sweat pooling at the base of his neck despite the ocean breeze rolling in over the estate. The music playing softly in the background only added to his growing unease.

"Where the hell are they?" he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his neatly combed hair.

"Relax," Kelce said beside him, nudging him in the ribs. "She's probably just, you know, fixing her hair or some shit. Girls take forever to get ready. It's her wedding day, man. She's gotta look perfect."

"She's already perfect," Topper said with a nervous smile, though his voice betrayed the doubt creeping in. "But where's Rafe? He was supposed to be here by now."

Kelce shrugged. "Probably running late like always. Dude's not exactly known for his punctuality."

Topper nodded, forcing himself to believe it.

He told himself there was no reason to worry.

You'd been so calm this morning, so sure about everything. Rafe was probably off doing... well, whatever Rafe did.

In the front row, Sarah fidgeted with the hem of her light blue dress. She leaned over to Kiara, who sat beside her with her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

"You don't think something happened, do you?" Sarah whispered.

Kiara shot her a look. "I think this whole thing's a disaster waiting to happen," she muttered. "But what do I know?"

Sarah sighed, ignoring Kiara's usual bluntness. She glanced back toward the house, a flicker of worry crossing her face.

If only they knew.

——

Inside the bridal suite, you weren't fixing your veil.

You were on the edge of the vanity, your dress pushed up to your hips, your thighs trembling as Rafe Cameron brought you to the brink of insanity.

"Fuck," Rafe groaned, pulling back just enough to look at you. His lips were slick, his chin wet from his work. His buzzed head pressed between your thighs, and the rough contrast of his stubble against your soft brown skin only added to the fire coursing through your veins. "You taste so fucking good."

Your head fell back against the mirror, your breath ragged as you tried-and failed -to suppress the sounds spilling from your lips.

"Rafe," you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smirked, that signature, cocky grin that made you weak even when you wanted to hate him. "What, baby? You want me to stop?"

"Hell no. Keep going," you shot back, surprising even yourself with the urgency in your voice.

His laugh was low and dangerous, vibrating against your skin. "That's what I thought," he murmured before diving back in, his tongue flicking against you in a way that had you arching off the vanity.

"Oh my God," you whimpered, your hands gripping the edge so tightly your knuckles turned white.

Rafe glanced up at you, his blue eyes dark and hungry. "What do you want, huh?" he taunted, his voice thick with desire. "Tell me, baby. I'll give it to you."

You bit down on your lip, every ounce of shame and guilt battling against the heat flooding your body. You shouldn't want this. Shouldn't want him. But when his tongue circled you again, the words spilled out before you could stop them.

"Spit on it."

Rafe froze for half a second, his smirk deepening as a dangerous gleam flickered in his eyes. "Say it again," he demanded, his voice rough and commanding.

You looked down at him, your chest heaving. “Spit on my pussy,” you repeated more vulgarly, your voice trembling.

He let out a low, satisfied chuckle, gripping your thighs tighter as he leaned back. "Atta girl," he muttered before spitting on your clit, his tongue immediately following, his movements slow and deliberate as he worked you over like it was his favorite thing to do.

"Fuck, Rafe," you whimpered, your hands flying to his head. The sensation of his buzzed hair against your palms only heightened the intensity, and when his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking in just the right way, your vision blurred.

"Yeah, that's it," he muttered against you, his voice vibrating through your core. "I told you, baby. No one knows this pussy like I do. Not Topper. Not anyone. Just me."

The mention of Topper's name jolted something in you, but it was fleeting, gone the second Rafe slid two fingers inside you, curling them just right. "Oh my god," you choked out, your thighs clenching around his head.

You couldn't reply. Couldn't speak. All you could do was grip his shirt, your nails digging into his shoulders as his thumb pressed harder, sending you hurtling toward the edge.

"Say it," he demanded, his tone commanding as he slowed his pace just enough to drive you insane. "Say it’s mine."

You shook your head weakly, your lips trembling.

"Say it," he repeated, his voice a growl as his fingers pumped into you harder, his free hand gripping your jaw and forcing you to meet his gaze. "Fucking say it."

Your body betrayed you before your mouth did, your climax ripping through you with a force that left you trembling, broken, and utterly at his mercy around his dick.

Rafe didn't let up, his movements slowing only slightly as he worked you through the high. His eyes never left yours, his smirk widening as he watched you fall apart beneath him.

“It’s yours, Rafe.” You finally say it and he groans with a deep chuckle, the sound muffled as he pressed his tongue against you again, his pace quickening until your body was trembling uncontrollably.

"Fuck y/n," he gritted, his voice low and filthy. "Your pussy tastes so fucking good. I’d kill for it."

Your hand flew to your mouth, muffling the scream that tore from your throat as the pleasure ripped through you, wave after wave until you were nothing but a trembling, incoherent mess.

Rafe pulled back slowly, his lips glistening, his eyes filled with nothing but satisfaction.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice thick with pride as he rose to his feet.

You couldn't move, couldn't speak, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath.

He leaned in, his hands braced on either side of you, his lips brushing against your ear.

"You're not walking down that fucking aisle," he murmured, his voice low and deadly. "Not after this. Hell no."

Before you could catch your breath, before you could even think to argue, Rafe's fingers slid inside you again, slow and deliberate, curling just enough to make you gasp. "You hear me?" he continued, his voice thick and dripping with venom. "You think I'm just gonna stand there, watching you let him have what's mine, huh?"

Your lips parted, but nothing came out, your body too overwhelmed to form words.

Rafe smirked at your silence, his other hand gripping your thigh possessively. "That's what I thought. You can't even defend him, can you? Because deep down, you know he's not man enough for you. Not like I am."

"Rafe," you whispered, but it came out shaky, weak, barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

"Shut up," he growled, his tone sharp as his fingers pumped into you faster, hitting a spot that had your eyes rolling back. "You don't get to talk. You don't get to tell me I'm wrong—not when you're dripping all over my fingers like this. Not when you're fucking clenching around me like your pussy knows who it belongs to."

A broken moan escaped your lips, your hands gripping the vanity as your thighs tried to close around him. Rafe just pushed them wider, his strength overpowering you easily.

"You think I'd let you marry him?" he hissed, his mouth so close to your ear that his breath sent chills down your spine. "You think I'd just stand there, watching you let that fucking pussy put a ring on your finger? I'd drag you out of there so fast it'd make his head spin. Hell, maybe l'd do it in front of everyone-make sure they all know who you really belong to."

Your chest heaved, your mind spinning, but you couldn't stop the way your body responded to him. Every word, every movement of his hand, every filthy promise he made—it was wrong, it was insane, but it made your legs tremble and your resolve crumble.

"I could eat your pussy every fucking day," he muttered, his lips brushing against your neck as he fucked you with his fingers, his thumb pressing circles against you that had your hips bucking against his hand. "I bet he's never even made you cum, has he? All that talk, all that money, and he's useless when it counts."

You whimpered, shaking your head slightly, but it wasn't a defense of Topper-it was denial of the truth he was dragging out of you.

Rafe chuckled darkly, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear. "That's what I thought," he said. "He's too soft. Too fucking weak. He doesn't know what to do with you, doesn't know how to make you scream, how to make you fucking crave him."

His hand tightened on your thigh, pulling you closer, his fingers curling inside you in a way that had you gasping for air. "But me?" he continued, his voice low and rough. "I could make you cum every goddamn day for the rest of your life, and it still wouldn't be enough. I'd ruin you for anyone else. Shit, I already have.”

Tears pricked your eyes, not from sadness or fear, but from the overwhelming, unbearable mix of emotions flooding your chest. He was insane. He was cruel. And he was right.

"You know what l'd do to him if you walked down that aisle?" Rafe asked, his tone shifting into something even darker, more dangerous. His fingers didn't stop, didn't falter, as he spoke. "I'd beat his fucking face in, right there in front of everyone. I'd make him bleed for even thinking he could have you. And then l'd take you, just like this, while everyone fucking watched."

A strangled gasp tore from your lips, your hands flying to his shoulders to steady yourself as your body threatened to collapse under the weight of his words and the intensity of his touch.

"You think that's crazy?" he asked, his voice softer now, almost mocking. "You think I care? Baby, l've been crazy for you since the day I laid eyes on you. And you love it. Don't fucking lie to me-you love this shit.”

You couldn’t even deny it. He was right. You loved when he got all crazy. You couldn’t help it.

——

The ceremony was falling apart before it had even begun.

Topper stood at the altar, his jaw tight and his hands fidgeting with his cufflinks as the whispers from the crowd grew louder. The once-perfect day was starting to unravel, and he could feel the weight of every set of eyes on him.

"She's probably just running late," Kelce offered, clapping a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You know how these things go, man. It's all part of the drama."

But even Kelce didn't sound convinced.

Topper's smile was tight, forced, as he glanced toward the house. The bridal suite was quiet, no sign of movement. Still no sign of her. And still no sign of Rafe.

"Where is he?" Topper muttered under his breath, his frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

Sarah stepped forward, her light blue dress fluttering slightly in the breeze as she gave Topper a comforting smile. "She's okay, Topper," she said softly. "Maybe something came up-an issue with her dress or makeup. You know how important this day is to her. She wouldn't just..." She trailed off, not wanting to finish the thought.

Topper nodded quickly, clinging to her words like a lifeline. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. She just wants everything to be perfect."

Sarah gave him a soft pat on the arm before stepping back toward Kiara, who stood farther away from the crowd, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

"Something's up," Kiara muttered as soon as Sarah was close enough to hear.

Sarah frowned. "What do you mean?"

Kiara glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention before leaning in closer.

"Where's Rafe?" she asked quietly.

Sarah's face tightened at the mention of her brother, her brows furrowing. "I don't know. He was supposed to be here with Topper. He disappeared like twenty minutes ago."

Kiara huffed, shaking her head. "You don't think..."

"What?" Sarah asked, confused.

Kiara bit her lip, her eyes narrowing as memories flooded back to her. Back when they were all Kooks-her, Sarah, Rafe, and the reader. Back when their group had been a tangled web of drama and tension.

"Rafe always had a thing for her," Kiara said slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. "You remember that, right?"

Sarah's frown deepened. "Yeah, but... Rafe had a thing for everyone, including you. That doesn't mean anything."

Kiara gave her a pointed look. "No, Sarah. It was different with her. He actually wanted her, and it wasn't just some fling to him. I saw it. Hell, I think we all saw it."

Sarah's eyes widened slightly as realization dawned on her, but she shook her head quickly. "No. No way. He wouldn't-"

Kiara cut her off. "Wouldn't he?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

The weight of the question hung in the air between them, and Sarah's stomach twisted uncomfortably.

"Where do you think they are, Sarah?" Kiara asked, her voice low and sharp.

——

Out on the balcony, the world seemed to disappear. The ocean stretched endlessly in front of you, the salty breeze cool against your overheated skin. But none of it mattered—not the crashing waves, not the golden glow of the sun setting over Figure 8-because Rafe Cameron had you pinned against the railing, your white dress hiked up around your hips, and his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

His large hands gripped your brown thighs, rough and insistent, the pale contrast against your smooth, glowing skin only making the moment feel more forbidden. His movements were relentless, his hips slamming into yours, the sound of your bodies colliding drowned out by your broken moans.

Your curls that were once perfectly styled in an updo were now cascaded over your shoulders, blowing in the wind as Rafe gave you the most delicious backshots you have ever experienced in your life.

"Harder," you begged, your voice shaky but clear, every ounce of shame long forgotten. "Please, Rafe. Harder."

He groaned at your words, a dark, satisfied sound that sent shivers down your spine.

"Fuck," he muttered, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "You love this, don't you? Being out here where anyone could see. My dick so deep inside you, you can't even think about anything else."

You nodded frantically, your hands gripping the railing for support as your legs trembled beneath you. "Don't stop," you whispered, your voice breathless and desperate.

He chuckled darkly, his teeth grazing the back of your neck as he slammed into you harder, deeper. "Stop?" he taunted, his voice low and mocking. "I’m just getting started."

His hands slid down your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh as he leaned back slightly to watch the way your body moved for him.

"Goddamn," he muttered, his blue eyes locked on the way your skin glistened in the golden hour light. "Look at you. So fucking perfect. Top doesn't deserve to even look at you, let alone touch you."

You whimpered, unable to argue, unable to say anything but his name.

"Yeah," he said, his voice filled with smug satisfaction. "That's right. Say my name, baby. Let the whole fucking world know who's making you feel this good."

"Rafe," you gasped, your head falling back as his pace quickened, each thrust hitting your g-spot so deep you could barely breathe.

"That's my girl," he growled, his grip tightening on your hips. "You hear them down there?" he asked, his tone mocking as he gestured with his chin toward the crowd below. "All those people waiting for you to walk down that aisle like the perfect little bride. But they don't know, do they? They don't know you're up here getting fucked so good you can't even think straight."

Your nails dug into the wood of the railing, your body trembling as you struggled to hold yourself together. But he wasn't done.

"I bet Topper thinks you're just late," he sneered, his voice dripping with venom. "Bet he's down there sweating, thinking you're still fixing your makeup or some stupid shit. Meanwhile, you're up here, dripping all over my cock, begging me for more."

Your eyes rolled back as he hit a spot so perfect, so devastatingly good, it ripped a broken cry from your throat.

"Yeah," Rafe muttered, his voice rough and raw. "That's it, baby. Let go. Don't think about him. Don't think about anything but me. Just me."

His pink lips pressed against your shoulder, his teeth scraping your soft skin as his hand moved between your thighs, his fingers working you over until your legs threatened to give out.

"Look at this pretty pussy," he growled, his tone almost reverent. "So wet for me. So fucking tight. You think Topper could ever make you feel like this? You think he even knows how?"

You shook your head frantically, your voice a broken whisper. "No. He can't. He doesn't."

Rafe grinned against your skin, his ego swelling at your admission. "That's right," he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Only me. Always me."

The pleasure built to an unbearable high, your body clenching around him as his name tore from your lips in a broken scream.

"Fuck," Rafe groaned, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep inside you, his grip on your hips bruising. "You're mine," he said, his voice low and deadly as he kissed the curve of your shoulder. "You've always been mine."

As your body trembled in the aftermath, your head fell forward, your chest heaving. The sound of the ocean filled your ears, but all you could feel was Rafe-his hands on your skin, his breath against your neck, his words still echoing in your mind.

He stayed inside you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pressed a soft kiss to the back of your neck. "You're not walking down that aisle," he murmured, his voice softer now but no less certain. "Not today. Not ever."

And as much as you wanted to argue, to fight, to tell him he was wrong, you couldn't.

Because deep down, you knew he was right.

——

Rafe didn't stop. He didn't even slow down.

The wind whipped around you, carrying the sound of footsteps from below as wedding guests wandered outside, looking for glimpses of the bride they thought was just running late. But you weren't running late— you were pinned against the balcony railing, your dress still hiked up, and Rafe Cameron was fucking you like he'd been waiting his whole life for this moment.

Your body trembled as he thrust into you, each movement deliberate, precise, like he knew exactly how to make you lose yourself.

Your moans spilled out uncontrollably, and you desperately tried to muffle them with your hand.

"Uh-uh," Rafe growled, his voice thick and commanding. He grabbed both of your wrists with one hand, pulling them behind your back and pinning them there easily. "Don't you fucking hide from me."

"Rafe," you gasped, your voice breaking as he held you in place, his grip unrelenting.

"Let them hear you," he said, his teeth gritting as he pounded into your pussy harder, deeper. "Let them fucking know who you belong to."

Tears spilled down your cheeks as the pleasure overwhelmed you, your body shaking violently with each thrust. You could feel him everywhere-his hand gripping your wrists, his chest pressed against your back, his cock hitting that perfect spot that had your legs trembling and your mind unraveling.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned, his voice raw as his eyes locked on the way your body rippled with every movement. "You're so fucking sexy. You feel that? Feel how perfect you are for me?"

You couldn't respond-not with words. All you could do was push back against him, your body moving instinctively, meeting his every thrust with desperation.

"Yeah," Rafe muttered, his free hand sliding down to grab a handful of your ass. "That's it. Fuck me back, baby. Show me how much you want it."

His palm came down hard on your cheek, the sharp sound of the smack echoing in the air, and you cried out, your head falling forward as the sting radiated through your skin.

"That's my girl," he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he rubbed the red mark he'd left. "You take it so fucking good. Better than I ever imagined."

Your knees buckled, but Rafe didn't let you collapse. His hand slid around your waist, holding you up effortlessly as he pounded into you with a rhythm that made your vision blur.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned, his teeth gritting as his pace quickened. "Topper could never have you weak like this. That little bitch wouldn't even know what to do with you."

His words sent a fresh wave of heat through you, the forbidden thrill of it all making your body tremble uncontrollably. The tears streamed down your cheeks now, not from sadness but from the overwhelming intensity of it all.

"Rafe," you whimpered, your voice breaking as your body clenched around him.

"You gonna cum for me, baby?" he taunted, his hand tightening on your hip as he angled his thrusts to hit deeper. "Come on. Show me who this pussy belongs to."

Your release hit you like a tidal wave, ripping through you with a force that left you gasping for air. Your legs shook violently, and your cries filled the air, no longer muffled, no longer restrained.

"Fuck, yes," Rafe growled, his hand leaving another stinging smack on your ass as your body convulsed around him. "That's my fucking girl."

He buried himself deep inside you with a final thrust, his body tensing as he came in your pussy, his warmth spilling into you and claiming you in the most primal way possible. His grip on you didn't loosen, even as his movements slowed, his breathing heavy against your neck.

He pulled out slowly, his hand releasing your wrists as he turned you around to face him.

His blue eyes were wild, his lips parted as he stared at you with an intensity that made your knees weak.

"You're so fucking pretty," he said, his voice low and deadly as he cupped your face in his hands.

His lips crashed against yours in a possessive, hungry kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth as he pulled you closer.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin.

"Run away with me," he said, his voice soft but firm, his eyes searching yours.

You stared at him, your chest heaving as the reality of what he was asking sank in. "Rafe, I can't," you whispered, your voice trembling.

"Yes, you can," he said, his grip on your face tightening slightly. "No one can fuck with you if you're with me. No one. You know that."

"I..." Your voice broke, the weight of it all crashing down on you.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours again, softer this time, but no less insistent.

"You're mine," he whispered. "Say yes. Say you'll come with me."

Your heart pounded in your chest, every instinct screaming at you to say no, to run, to do the right thing. But when you looked into his eyes, saw the fire, the conviction, the obsession burning there, you knew there was no going back.

"Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Rafe's lips curved into a dangerous, triumphant smirk, and he kissed you again, harder this time, his hands gripping your waist like he never wanted to let you go.

"Let's go," he said, pulling you toward the door.

The two of you slipped back inside the house, your heart racing as he led you through the empty halls. You didn't look back, didn't think about the ceremony still waiting, the guests still wondering, the man you'd left at the altar.

Because none of it mattered now.

You weren't the bride anymore.

You were running away from your own wedding with your fiancè’s best man.

——

Your hand was in his, his grip firm and unrelenting as he pulled you away from the estate, away from the ceremony, away from the life you'd just left behind. The sound of your heels clicking against the stone path was drowned out by the pounding of your heart as you glanced back at the estate, at the guests you could no longer face.

"I can't believe I just did that," you whispered, your voice trembling with disbelief.

Rafe turned to you, his blue eyes blazing with intensity as he pulled you closer. "You didn't do anything," he said firmly, his hand cupping your cheek. "You made the only choice that matters. You chose me."

Your chest tightened, doubt flickering in your mind despite the heat coursing through your veins. "Rafe, this isn’t right I-"

He cut you off with a kiss, his lips crashing against yours with a hunger that left you breathless. His hands framed your face, his touch grounding you as his mouth claimed yours. The world around you blurred, the sounds of the wedding fading into nothing as his kiss silenced your doubts, your fears, your guilt.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead pressed against yours, his voice was a low whisper. "No one can touch you if you're with me. No one can fucking hurt you. You're okay now."

You stared into his eyes, the truth of his words sinking in as your chest heaved with uneven breaths. And in that moment, the world didn't matter. Nothing mattered except him.

"Let's go," he said, his voice commanding but soft.

You nodded, your fingers tightening around his as he pulled you forward, the two of you breaking into a run. The contrast between you-his pale, tanned skin against your glowing brown complexion-made the moment feel like a painting, a picture of chaos and beauty all at once.

——

Back near the ceremony, Sarah's hand flew to her mouth as she watched you and Rafe disappear down the path. "Oh my God," she whispered. "They're running away."

Kiara stood frozen for a moment before shaking her head and letting out a bitter laugh. "This is insane. What the hell is she thinking?"

Sarah bit her lip, her expression softening. "I mean... it's kind of romantic, don't you think?"

Kiara shot her a sharp look. "Romantic?

Sarah, that's your brother we're talking about. Your psycho brother who ruins everything he touches. And now he's got her."

Sarah's face fell slightly, her eyes flickering back toward the path you'd disappeared down. "You're right," she admitted softly. "I just... I hope he doesn't hurt her."

Kiara sighed, crossing her arms. "Let's just hope she knows what she's doing."

The two of them exchanged a glance before stepping back from the crowd. There was no point in staying anymore-not without you. Without a word, they slipped away from the ceremony, leaving Topper to figure out the truth on his own.

And as they disappeared into the shadows, so did you and Rafe, hand in hand, running toward whatever future waited for you.

——

Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you came to a stop, your heels skidding slightly on the stone path. Rafe’s hand remained tightly clasped around yours, his grip firm and possessive, grounding you as both of you struggled to catch your breath. The distant sounds of the Figure 8 estate were gone now, replaced by a serene stillness broken only by the faint bubbling of water.

“Rafe,” you panted, glancing around, trying to make sense of where he’d brought you. “Where are we?”

He didn’t answer right away, his gaze fixed on you as he stepped closer. The golden glow of the setting sun cast a halo around your curls, and the soft veil still draped over your face gave you an ethereal quality that made his breath hitch. The pale ivory of your wedding dress clung to your glowing brown skin, the delicate lace catching the light in a way that was almost otherworldly.

Rafe, in his rumpled white linen shirt and unbuttoned collar, was the perfect foil to your pristine elegance. His sun-kissed skin and sharp blue eyes were wild, untamed, while you looked like a dream—soft, radiant, and untouchable. Together, you were chaos and beauty incarnate, a contrast so stark it was almost painful to look at.

You turned your gaze forward, and your breath caught again—not from the run this time, but from the scene unfolding in front of you.

A rose garden stretched out before you, its blooms a riot of pinks and whites, climbing over trellises and spilling across the stone paths. The scent of roses filled the air, sweet and intoxicating, mingling with the faint notes of a soft melody drifting through the garden. In the center stood a small fountain, its crystal-clear water sparkling as it trickled gently into the basin below.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as your eyes swept over the scene.

“I knew you’d like it,” Rafe said softly, his voice lower now, steady despite the lingering adrenaline in his system.

You turned to him, tears brimming in your eyes as your chest tightened. “You planned this,” you said, your voice trembling. “You planned all of this.”

His lips curved into a slow, knowing smirk, and he stepped closer, his hand brushing a stray curl from your face. “Of course I did,” he murmured. “You think I’d let you walk down that aisle? Let you choose him?” His hand slid to your cheek, his thumb grazing your skin, a stark contrast between his roughness and your softness. ���I’ve been waiting for this moment, baby. Waiting for you to finally see what you were always meant to have.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks, and you shook your head slightly, your emotions threatening to overwhelm you. “This is crazy, Rafe,” you said, your voice breaking. “I left him. I left everyone. What am I doing?”

His other hand found your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies were flush, his blue eyes burning into yours. “You’re doing exactly what you were always meant to do,” he said, his voice firm, his words cutting through your spiraling thoughts. “You’re choosing yourself. For once in your life, you’re not doing what’s safe or expected. You’re doing what feels right.”

Your lips parted, a fresh wave of tears spilling as the weight of his words sank in. For so long, you’d chased the life everyone thought you should have, choosing stability over passion, security over risk. But now, standing in front of Rafe, his wildness calling to you like a siren’s song, you felt alive in a way you never had before.

The music swelled, wrapping around you like the petals scattered at your feet, and Rafe’s hand slid down to take yours. “Dance with me,” he said softly, his voice low and inviting.

You blinked up at him, startled. “Dance?”

His smirk returned, softer this time, as he pulled you closer. “Yeah. Dance.”

Your protest died in your throat as his arms circled your waist, his grip firm yet gentle, guiding you into a slow sway. The difference between you was striking—his sharp angles and commanding presence against your delicate curves and hesitant grace. His hand rested on the small of your back, steadying you as you let yourself fall into the rhythm of the moment.

As the melody wrapped around you both, Rafe leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with something unspoken. “I don’t deserve you, but I’m never letting you go.”

Your breath hitched, and before you could respond, his lips found yours. The kiss was slow, deliberate, and all-consuming, his hand sliding up your back to cradle your head as he deepened it. His other hand gripped your waist, pulling you closer, as though he could fuse your bodies together if he tried hard enough.

Your hands found his chest, your fingers curling into his shirt as you gave in completely. The heat of him, the weight of his presence, the taste of him—it all melted the doubt from your mind.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I’ve got you,” he whispered, his voice low and steady. “No one can touch you now. No one can take you from me. You’re belong with me.”

Your chest tightened, your tears falling freely now as you whispered, “I’m scared.”

“I know,” he said softly, his thumb brushing your cheek. “But you don’t have to be. Not with me.”

The music played on, the roses swayed gently in the breeze, and the fountain bubbled softly as the two of you stood there, lost in each other. For the first time, you weren’t running from the fire. You were standing in the heart of it, and it didn’t scare you anymore.

“Rafe…I love you.” You mumbled softly, hoping it’d get lost in the soft music, but it didn’t. He’d heard you.

“I know…” he replies with a smile, resting his head on top of your delicate curls. “I’d kill for you.” The words sent shivers down your spine, but you understood it was his way of him letting you know he loves you too.

The End.

[it-happened-one-fic]

Bridal Visions: Photoshoot #4 - Sumeru Bridal - Worse Things

Summary: You really shouldn’t have been surprised that Alhaitham looked quite so good in a suit, even if it was more lightly colored than his usual outfits. But then, you’d been a little bit too distracted by the vaguely flustering notion of posing in wedding clothes with him. But then, there certainly were worse things. And there were definitely worse partners.

Type: Female reader/ 800 Followers Event/ series/ sfw/ fluff/ Chiori is shipping/

Bridal Visions Series Masterlist

Word Count: 1251

I had to admit, it was odd seeing Alhaitham in a traditional wedding suit. And the fact that it was beige, paired with a dark green, rather than his usual black, made it even odder.

But even with those oddities, I couldn’t deny that he looked amazing. Perhaps even frustratingly so, considering he usually did look annoyingly good.

He’d been a clever choice for modeling wedding attire, and though I didn’t know her, I could tell that the designer, Chiori, was thrilled with his presence.

Traveler had picked well, and I had no doubts that they’d received the full reward for their commission of finding people to model these clothes simply because of Alhaitham. Though personally I still felt like Layla, Nilou, or Candace would have been far better choices than me.

So would Dehya, but she’d shot down that idea so quickly that there was no way she would’ve done this. Even if she did love clothes and would’ve doubtless enjoyed every second of this. 

But she had already made plans with Dunyarzad anyway…

So here I was in the deep green lehenga skirt and matching top that had been designed for the Sumeru section of this bridal line rather than any of the other women whom I felt would’ve been better choices.

And one thing about it, I could tell that no expense had been spared in the design of my outfit. 

At the very least, I was fairly certain that all of the jewelry I had on, from the necklace and earrings to the headpiece, was all pure gold.

I fidgeted with my sheer veil, doing my best to ignore the sheer drama of my outfit as I walked over to the steps where Alhaitham sat. Somehow wholly unbothered despite the fact that we were modeling incredibly nice bridal clothes as a couple.

And even with how gorgeous his outfit was, it was obvious that I was the centerpiece of the photo with how brilliantly colored my clothes were. As if the gold trim hadn’t been enough.

Which was perfectly ridiculous considering most anyone would be looking at his face rather than any part of my outfit.

“Alright, I want you to sit here on the step between his feet. When I give the signal, you two look at each other,” Chiori instructed as she gestured to the steps as Alhaitham looked up. Utterly relaxed as we made eye contact.

I sat carefully, following Chiori’s instructions to fan out the massive, and frankly speaking, gorgeous skirt before I was finally settled enough to glance back at Alhaitham as he finished adjusting the skirt so it rested on the steps to the left of him.

“You don’t usually wear clothes that are lightly colored, but they look really good on you,” I smiled as I spoke. Willing myself to relax and not think too much about any of this.

I was just here to model some wedding clothes with Alhaitham. Nothing more, and nothing less.

He met my gaze directly, his eyebrows lifting, and I felt my smile spread at his expression before I continued. Knowing perfectly well why he didn’t wear these sorts of clothes, “Though I will admit they are rather eye-catching.”

A smile almost flickered onto his face as a flash of amusement went through his eyes and his lips twitched, “I doubt anyone will be looking at me.”

His words matched my own thoughts regarding how utterly fancy my outfit was, but his phrasing was almost enough to make me flustered.

But I reined it in and shook my head, reaching out and patting his knee that was beside me affectionately, “Don’t sell yourself short.”

“And, freeze!” Both of us went still in the sudden directions, with me smiling teasingly up at him as he simply held eye contact.

I felt myself relax as soon as the flash from the camera had dimmed, and I could already hear both Chiori and the photographer talking, “It’s not bad, but…. I think it would be better to get the skirt in motion, don’t you?”

I glanced over to see Chiori staring at both of us pointedly, and I felt my eyebrows lift slightly before I glanced back over at Alhaitham, who’d already stood and was looking down at me.

He held out his hand, and I smiled half-awkwardly, quietly accepting it and standing alongside him as Chiori spoke, “Could you two move over here. I want you to hold her hand as she twirls….”

He nodded, still holding my hand as I gathered up my skirts in one hand as best I could before nodding over at him.

I followed his lead over to the side before letting go of my skirts and glancing over at Chiori, who’d already moved out of the line of the camera.

She nodded, and I spun as Alhaitham held up my hand. And at the last second I looked towards him. Smiling at the sensation of my skirts flaring around me as my eyes met his. 

A smile flickered across his face, either at my giddiness or the raw amount of fabric swirling around me as the golden embroidery and jewelry I wore twinkled in the sunlight.

I slowly spun to a stop as I heard the tell-tale click of the camera’s shutter, and I looked towards where Chiori stood with the photographer. My hand staying locked in Alhaitham’s, where they hung between us as we waited to see what she might say.

And after a moment she nodded and looked up at the two of us, “Looks good. I’ll send your payment through the Adventurer’s Guild.”

I felt myself smile, nodding as I exhaled in relief and started to turn to go before pausing. I frowned at my skirts as I bent slightly to once again gather the layers of green and gold.

Alhaitham watched me, tilting his head slightly, “Do you want me to walk you back to your changing area?”

I paused, blinking up at him in slight surprise before smiling and nodding. Feeling oddly touched by his offer even as I nodded, “Sure.”

“Hmm, while the two of you do that, we might get one more shot of you two walking away,” The photographer spoke up, and we both turned to look her way before I nodded.

“Feel free,” Alhaitham’s answer was nonchalant, and I felt myself smile. Snickering slightly at both his words and tone as he reached out and took my hand once more before we took off.

Walking away and largely ignoring both the camera and the photographer snapping pictures from behind us as I glanced at him, “So do you think you’ll want to go with beige and green when you get married?”

I grinned at him, teasing him slightly as he glanced my way before looking back forward with a single quirked eyebrow, “Who knows. Maybe we’ll get these clothes for free since we modeled them and they were made to our measurements.”

I blinked before feeling myself frown slightly at his words, hesitating slightly before I spoke, not fully voicing the implications of what that would mean, “That would mean we’d have matching bridal attire, though… Nice, matching bridal attire.”

He lifted one shoulder, perfectly unbothered in a way I honestly felt only he could be, “There could be worse things.”

I paused before feeling myself smile as he glanced my way, and I nodded as I felt a smile work its way back onto my face, “There certainly could be.”

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[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

(Corpse Bride AU)

Priest: No, the vows are “With this hand I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine. With this candle, I will light your way in darkness. With this ring, I ask you to be mine.” Are you trying to make a mockery of the wedding ceremony?

Lucifer: No I promise, I am just nervous.

*Eve placed a comforting hand on Lucifer’s hand, their parents had arranged their marriage because they both came from the two wealthiest families in the town, Eve was a nice young woman, but he didn’t love her the way he was supposed to, at least they could be friends, what Lucifer didn’t realize was thar he would soon find true love in a very interesting way*

Priest: Thankfully this was just a rehearsal, but you should learn your vows before the actual ceremony or I will refuse to marry you.

*Lucifer and Eve walked off*

Lucifer: I am so sorry about accidentally setting your mother’s dress on fire.

Eve: Don’t worry, it was rather entertaining, it was unfair to expect you to know the entire vow off the top of your head in such a stressful situation.

Lucifer: Thank you, I think I should go on a walk in the forest to clear my mind.

Eve: That should work, I will see you later.

*Lucifer walked through the forest and it was helping him calm down and so he decided to practice his vows, after a couple times stumbling he was able to say it perfectly*

Lucifer: With this hand I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine. With this candle, I will light your way in darkness. With this ring, I ask you to be mine.

*he then pulled out the ring and placed it on what he thought was a stick in the ground, but when he went to retrieve the ring, a bony hand shot out of the ground and grabbed his wrist, rising out of the ground was a dead man in a bridal gown and veil, but he couldn’t help but notice that in spite of the fact he was dead, this man was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, short brown hair the color of chocolate and honey brown eyes, there were certain parts of him that had decomposed, but that didn’t take away from his beauty and the gown clung to his slightly chubby body which was even more seductive to Lucifer, when he looked at Lucifer he smiled at him, the dead young man was Adam who had been waiting for someone to come and marry him even though he was still dead*

Adam: I do.

*Lucifer didn’t know what was going on, but he started to run as the man, Lucifer thought he had lost the man on the bridge, but he turned and saw Adam there with that same ethereal smile*

Adam: You may now kiss the bride.

*Adam then leaned forward and kissed Lucifer on the lips, even as Lucifer blacked out, he couldn’t help but think of how nice the kiss was*

Angel: Nice going you killed him.

Lucid frowned, who was that voice? He opened his eyes to see the bride standing over him with a concerned look on his face.

Adam: I did not! Oh, look he's waking up.

Lucifer looked around. Where the fuck was he!?

Adam: Oh hello! I'm so glad you're awake!

Lucifer: What's going on?

Adam held up his hand: We got married silly! You said your vows perfectly in the woods.

Oh no.

Lucifer: I think there's been a mistake ...

Adam: No mistake.

Angel: So what's his name?

Adam smacked himself in the firehouse, how could he not ask his name!

Adam: Sorry! What's your name? Full name?

Lucifer: Lucifer Morningstar.

Adam: I'm Adam, your bride.

[yellowjacketsfashion]

Wilderness Costume Analysis: Part 2

Misty

Misty wears a colorful jacket under her rawhide cloak and badger(?) shoulder pelt. Plus, like many of the Acolytes she has gloves and leg warmers made out of recycled clothing. As far as I’m aware none of the intact clothing pieces Misty wears have been worn in the Wilderness yet. Though Mari does wear a colorful jacket somewhat similar to the one seen on Misty.

Above is a behind the scenes photo from one of Samantha Hanratty’s costume fittings posted by @schleystyle on Instagram. While it isn’t entirely what Misty ended up wearing in the show, it still features a good look at the cloak and veil.

Speaking of, something Marie Schley has repeatedly talked about with Misty’s costume is the use of the beaver veil. The idea behind it is that it was supposed to be reminiscent of a bridal veil. The veil is tied to a concept of femininity that is then being subverted with the barbarism of the cannibalistic ritual/cult. If I can find my notes on which interview Schley talked about this in I’ll add it below because it was really interesting to hear about.

Something else important about Misty’s outfit is her cracked glasses. To me this is supposed to be a call back to “The Lord of The Flies,” which is a story about a group of young boys who get stranded on an island after a plane crash. Misty’s glasses are specifically reminiscent of the character Piggy’s broken glasses that play a pivotal part in the story.

Something I also think is interesting is that Misty doesn’t seem to have a spot in the group shot. Right, she has some semblance of power by being in charge of the meat but still doesn’t have a seat at the table and is further isolated from the rest of the group. Because of this, I think it will be interesting to see where she falls in line in the hierarchy and whose power/influence she clings to in this next season. I might be wrong but that’s my take on it.

Acolyte

This Acolyte has more discernible layers underneath their fur cloak such as the button up shirt and denim jacket as well as using purple fabric on their mask and gloves.

I am not sure what fur is used for their hood so I am not sure their animal. Though, in the group shot they are featured in the second row from the Antler Queen.

I also think it’s kind of interesting that they’re wearing blues and purples because those are some of Taissa’s most worn colors. That being said, Marie Schley has said the costume department didn’t know who was who so take my observation with a grain of salt.

I’ll talk about the rest of the Acolytes in the next part but let me know if you also want me to talk about the Antler Queen as well!

[dino-fart]

Somewhere Only We Know | One Shot

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Jujutsu Sorcerer! Female Reader

Genre: Romance, Character Death, Fluff, Happy Ending

Based on the song 'Somewhere Only We Know' by Keane

**Bold Italics are the song lyrics.**

**Italics by themselves are flashbacks**

I walked across an empty land I knew the pathway like the back of my hand

"Kuantan, Malaysia...That sounds nice..." Nanami said tiredly standing there walking toward the hordes of curses. He gripped his cleaver tightly, his body going into autopilot as he faces his enemies.

I felt the earth beneath my feet. Sat by the river, and it made me complete.

You sat there watching the ripples of the water in the river. You saw the reflection of someone you loved. You closed your eyes and smiled. "It's time." You said softly and stood up and walked away. You prepared your weapon as you entered the veil in Shibuya.

Oh, simple thing, where have you gone? I'm getting old and I need something to rely on

Nanami continued charging on. He continued to dream of Malaysia, the simple house he build on the beach. The cool breeze in his hair. He smiled, he knew he'd done enough...

So tell me when you're gonna let me in I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin

You stood there facing Geto Suguru now possessed by a cursed spirit, Kenjaku. You held your whip tightly as your knees collapsed. The cursed spirit mocking you, telling you to give up. You felt like it...You're tired...

I came across a fallen tree I felt the branches of it looking at me

Nanami walked past the luscious trees, taking note of them for later. He continued walking along the beach. He walked toward the shore and watched as the water surrounded his feet. He looked down at the water and smiled.

Is this the place we used to love? Is this the place that I've been dreaming of?

You were laying there on the shore, your hair pooled around your head, getting wet from the water. You opened your eyes slowly.

"I think I found a seashell." You heard a familiar voice say.

Oh, simple thing, where have you gone? I'm getting old and I need something to rely on

Your vision became clear, and you smiled brightly, "Kento..."

"Or maybe I found a pearl." Nanami gently crouches down to your level and strokes your hair back ever so gently.

And if you have a minute, why don't we go Talk about it somewhere only we know?

"We're both dead, aren't we?" You said softly as your eyes met his.

"Life, Death, none of it matters because we're together." Nanami pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"Where are we?"

"Malaysia." Nanami smiled sweetly at you.

You cupped his cheek, "I missed this smile of yours. The one that shows you're in true bliss."

Nanami's heart swelled with joy hearing your words. He pressed his lips against yours tenderly. You returned the kiss then gasped when he scooped you up in his arms bridal style. You laughed softly and embraced him. Nanami joined in on the laughter and you swore your heart almost burst of happiness hearing it.

This could be the end of everything So why don't we go

You two began walking down the beach, holding hands. He spun you around and pulled you close to him. You kissed him and he cupped your cheeks as he cherished your lips. The beautiful sunset creating a perfect atmosphere for you both.

Somewhere only we know? Somewhere only we know?

Nanami settled himself on the hammock between the palm trees and you rested on top of him. He was reading one of his books while stroking your hair.

"There you two love birds are!" A familiar voice said and Nanami turned to see Haibara standing there with a big smile on his face...

Dividers By @firefly-graphics

[differentpostrebel]

Lost and Found: A Pirates Promise

.Chapter 48, part 2: Veil of Betrayal

A/N: We are back with a new chapter! This is the continuation of Chapter 48, since I divided it into 2 parts. Here we see the lines of defiance slowly beginning to crumble, and we get a shocking revelation, from who… Thank you guys so much for liking, commenting, and reblogging! I will be posting a teaser for tomorrow's chapter tomorrow along with the chapter. And without further ado, let the adventure begin!

Word Count: 4.7k

Sanji x Reader, Sanji x Y/N, One Piece X Reader

Time passed, and I found myself in the château’s medical ward. “Shit, what happened?” I groaned, feeling like I had been hit by a battering ram.. again. Every muscle in my body ached, especially my head, where a dull throbbing pain persisted. I attempted to sit up, but the pain intensified, forcing me back down.

Just then, Reiju walked into the room, her expression unreadable. "Are you alright?" she asked, approaching the bed.

"What happened?" I muttered, trying to piece together the events. The last thing I remembered was walking down the stairs, and then... nothing. “Was I attacked?” I thought out loud, the fragmented memories swirling in my mind.

Reiju’s gaze flickered with something I couldn’t place. “We were told you fell down the stairs and were knocked unconscious,” she replied calmly.

“Cut the crap,” I snapped, frustration lacing my voice. “I didn’t just fall. I was attacked.” The pain was becoming unbearable, and I gritted my teeth. “Shit, why?”

I instinctively reached for my blade and thigh halter, but as I searched around me, I realized it wasn’t there. “My blade!” I exclaimed, panic rising. I searched the bed frantically, but it was nowhere to be found. "Great, now I’ve got to find that too," I thought bitterly.

Reiju sighed softly and approached me with a calmer demeanor. "I also came to get you ready for your wedding dress fitting," she said, her tone cautious.

"Hell no!" I yelled, gripping my head as the pain surged again. "I’m not playing dress-up. I have important things I need to do," I gritted out, but the pain made it impossible to move as freely as I wanted. "Son of a bitch," I cursed, frustrated with the entire situation.

Reiju, unfazed by my resistance, handed me some medicine. “Here, take these. They’ll help with the pain and heal you faster,” she said, holding out a glass of water.

Reluctantly, I took the pills, glaring at her as I swallowed them down.

“Are you always this stubborn?” Reiju asked as I handed back the glass of water.

“All day, every day,” I replied, causing her to smile.

“Do I really have to go to this dress fitting?” I groaned, half-heartedly.

“Unfortunately, yes. But don’t worry, it’ll be quick, and you can rest in your room until it’s deemed fit,” she assured me.

Reiju and I may not have known each other well, but she had saved my captain, and now she was helping me with this pain. For that, I was grateful. “Okay, I’ll do it, but after that, I’m finding my crew, and also resting because this pain is just too much,” I added, trying to keep the mood light as we made our way out of the medical ward and into the calicoat. After some time, we finally arrived at the bridal shop. 

A bell chimed as we entered, and a cheerful voice greeted us. “Welcome to Dreams in Lace Bridal Boutique, do you have an appointment?”

Reiju stepped forward confidently. “It’s under Vinsmoke.”

“Ahh yes, right this way!” The shopkeeper led us to a private area filled with elegant dresses. “And you must be the lovely bride-to-be,” she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

I managed a small smile in return. “Aww, she’s shy,” she teased.

“Far from it,” I shot back through gritted teeth, trying to mask my nerves.

“Okay, well, these five dresses were selected, along with some for the after-party. Let’s try them on!” she announced cheerfully.

The first dress did nothing for me, and I immediately shook my head, saying, "No."

The second dress was form-fitted in the front but too big at the waist—another no. The third dress was another disappointment, and the fourth dress looked all over the place.

"Reiju, these dresses aren’t it for me," I sighed, beginning to put on the fifth dress.

"Don't worry," she assured me, popping a bottle of champagne, "I just know you’ll love this one."

As I stepped out, my heart raced, and I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. The dress hugged my body perfectly, the off-the-shoulder lace long sleeves making me feel both elegant and daring. The plunging neckline added just the right amount of allure, while the fabric cinched at the waist highlighted my figure.

The bottom of the dress flowed gracefully around me, a small train trailing behind like a whisper of sophistication. Adorned with delicate lace, glimmering pearls, and sparkling stones, it was breathtaking—a true testament to beauty.

Just as I was lost in the mesmerizing vision before me, the woman gently placed a veil over my head, completing the look. As I looked at my reflection again, I barely recognized myself. 

“This one’s perfect,” Reiju said, handing me a champagne glass. I could barely focus on the drink as I admired the way the dress hugged me. “Wonderful! Now there won’t be any retouches; she fits perfectly in this dress. But it should be ready for the wedding,” she added, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Perfect, the wedding is tomorrow,” Reiju announced, and I nearly choked on my drink.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” I managed to gasp, my heart racing.

“Sanji wanted his wedding with Pudding to happen tomorrow,” she explained, her tone almost casual. “And since you and Ichiji are set to marry as well before Sanji, that pushed everything up.”

“Why would he…?” I thought, feeling a knot form in my stomach. “He told me he wasn’t going to marry Pudding.” Confusion washed over me as I tried to process her words. “What changed?”

Before I could voice my questions, Reiju was already dragging me away to remove the dress. Panic surged through me. I gotta find Luffy then before it’s too late, I thought, urgency propelling me forward.

As we stepped out of the dressing room, I glanced back at my reflection one last time, still feeling the weight of the news. “Now, let’s look at other fits…” Reiju said, a smirk playing on her lips. The hint of mischief in her expression only added to my frustration. Once we finished with the wedding dress and the after-party dress, Reiju had a brilliant idea—to have me shop for other essentials usually reserved for the after-after wedding reception.

She handed me three bags, each filled with outfits that would keep the celebrations going long into the night. As we made our way back to the calicoat and headed toward Big Mom’s château, my mind raced with thoughts of how to escape this chaotic whirlwind.

Upon arriving, I hurried up the stairs to my floor, the weight of the bags in my arms becoming a comforting distraction from the turmoil of emotions. As soon as I opened the door, I dropped the bags with a soft thud.

But just as I was about to look for my stolen blade, I froze. Ichiji was already in my room, lounging casually as if he owned the place.

“How the hell did you manage to get in?” I exclaimed, my surprise mingling with irritation.

Ichiji smirked, leaning back against the wall. “I have my ways,” he replied, a cocky confidence in his voice.

Ichiji smirked as he walked forward, causing me to hit the wall behind me. The sudden impact made my breath hitch, and I felt my heart race. “I believe last night you did say we were going to discuss the matter of punishments,” he said, his voice low and teasing, his gaze locked onto mine.

My pulse quickened at the way he said it, a mix of challenge and something dangerously alluring. His fingers began to glide along my leg, sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through me. “And I have a few ideas in mind that will be more than enough,” he added, pulling me closer to him, his presence overwhelming.

I swallowed hard, feigning confidence as I replied, “And what ideas might those be?” The words came out a little shaky, but I was determined not to show weakness.

Ichiji's smirk widened, and there was a glimmer of desire in his eyes. “Well, let’s just say I have some creative ways to remind you of your place,” he purred, leaning in closer, his breath warm against my skin.

“Creative, huh?” I shot back, trying to sound nonchalant despite the flutter of nerves in my stomach. “Like what? You planning on writing me a love poem?”

He chuckled softly, a dark, rich sound that sent shivers down my spine. “Oh, it’ll be much more than that.” He stepped even closer, his body almost pressed against mine, and I felt the heat radiating off him. “I want to make sure you remember exactly who you belong to, Y/N.”

The way he said my name sent a jolt through me. I couldn’t deny the effect he had on me, and as much as I wanted to resist, a part of me was undeniably drawn to his intensity. “Is that so?” I challenged, raising an eyebrow. “And how do you plan to do that?”

Ichiji leaned in closer, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered, “Let’s just say I’m a firm believer in hands-on learning.” The heat of his breath sent a thrill coursing through me, and my resolve began to waver. “Perhaps some physical reminders will help you understand just how serious I am.”

In one swift motion, he hoisted me into the air, my legs wrapping around his frame, my back pressed against the wall with no room for escape. “Easy there, tiger,” I managed to say, trying to maintain some composure.

“Tiger?” Ichiji replied with a smirk, his gaze glinting with playful mischief. “I like that nickname you gave me, princess.” His tone was teasing, and it sent a flush of heat through me.

“Yeah? Well, it was just a joke,” I retorted, attempting to push him back gently as I moved toward my bed, trying to create some space between us. “I’m going to rest a bit,” I said, hoping that would signal him to back off. But Ichiji took it as an invitation.

“Perfect! I’ll join you,” he declared, his playful grin widening as he began unbuttoning his dress shirt, revealing his chiseled abs and toned muscles. My breath caught at the sight, and I quickly turned away, attempting to shield myself from the undeniable allure he exuded.

“This wasn’t an invite,” I shot back, grabbing my blanket and wrapping it tightly around me, as if it could provide a barrier against his charm.

Ichiji only chuckled, unfazed by my protest. He settled beside me, propping himself up on one elbow, and effortlessly pulled me closer to his chest. “You know, you can’t just push me away like that,” he teased, amusement evident in his voice. “It makes me want to stay even more.”

“Seriously, Ichiji,” I protested, though the heat radiating from him was nearly impossible to ignore.

“Relax, princess,” he replied, his voice low and inviting as he pressed a soft kiss against my neck. I couldn’t help but involuntarily lift my arm in response, a shiver coursing through me as I felt my heart race at his touch. “I’m not going to bite… much,” he added, the sultriness of his voice making it hard to think straight.

The warmth of his breath sent tingles down my spine, and I stifled a small moan as he continued to explore my skin with his lips. “Ichiji,” I managed to say, but my voice was barely above a whisper, drowned out by the sensations he was creating.

Not satisfied with my lack of response, he snaked his hand under the blanket, his fingers grazing my thigh in a way that was both teasing and electrifying. The touch ignited a rush of heat within me, and I bit my lip to stifle another sound, my mind racing in confusion and desire.

“Now let’s rest,” he said casually, as if he had all the time in the world. He settled next to me with a confidence that was almost disarming, his tattooed arm curling around me and pulling me closer against his warm body. Despite the chaos swirling in my thoughts, I felt the tension in my chest beginning to melt away.

His skin felt warm against mine, and I could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, soothing yet exhilarating. “There’s more of that coming soon,” he added, his tone suggestive, as if promising untold pleasures that awaited us.

“Why are you like this?” I asked, even though a part of me didn’t want to push him away. “You know this isn’t right.”

Ichiji chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “Right and wrong don’t matter much when you’re drawn to someone. You can fight it, or you can enjoy the ride.” His eyes sparkled with mischief and something deeper, an intensity that made it hard to resist.

“Maybe a few minutes of resting will do me good,” I admitted, feeling the exhaustion of the day catch up to me. The warmth of his body beside me and the steady beat of his heart became a soothing lullaby, and as I slowly fell back into slumber, I felt his presence wrap around me like a comforting blanket, making it all too easy to drift away.

.

.

.

Hours passed, and Ichiji was still beside me. The soft light filtering through the curtains cast a peaceful glow over his features, and for a moment, I allowed myself to study him closely. His usual stern expression was replaced by something much softer in sleep, and I found myself drawn to the intricate design of his tattoo. Slowly, without thinking, I traced the lines with my fingers, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath the ink.

“Mmm… Y/N,” he murmured, pulling me closer as I touched him. His voice was low and husky, stirring something within me that I couldn’t quite place. The way he said my name sent a thrill through me, and despite the chaos of my thoughts, I felt an unexpected comfort in his embrace.

Ichiji stirred slightly at my touch, his arm loosening its grip around me as he shifted, but he didn’t wake. Taking advantage of the moment, I slipped out of bed, careful not to make a sound. How long has he been here? I wondered, feeling a mixture of relief and urgency as I stood. My mission rushed back into focus, pulling me from the warmth of the moment and back to the reality of what needed to be done. I had to move quickly and quietly, knowing that every second counted.

I grabbed my things and made my way quietly to the door, closing it gently behind me before stepping out into the hallway. I need to find my blade and thigh halter... and Luffy... and Nami, before it’s too late. My mind was racing, piecing together the next steps. Time was running out, and I needed to act quickly.

As I descended the stairs, laughter echoed through the chateau, familiar voices pulling me toward them. My heart pounded, but I couldn’t resist following the sound. I edged closer, recognizing the laughter that belonged to Sanji. I peered around the corner, my breath catching at the scene unfolding before me.

“To us…” Sanji’s voice rang out, a toast in hand.

“To us…” Pudding responded, clinking her glass against his with a smile that made my stomach turn. I froze, watching the two of them in the soft candlelight, their faces dangerously close.

“What the hell?” I whispered under my breath, my mind struggling to process what I was seeing.

Sanji looked at her with an intensity I hadn’t seen before. “Pudding,” he said softly, his eyes filled with affection, “I have to say, I’ve never loved a woman more than I do with you.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, making me falter where I stood. Never loved a woman more? My mind spiraled as I tried to make sense of it.

The sight of them together, the way Sanji spoke to her—it shattered something inside me. I clenched my fists, resisting the urge to step out and demand an explanation. But deep down, I knew that this wasn’t the time. There was too much at stake, too much to do. 

I turned away, my heart aching with every step as I silently made my way back down the hall, focusing on the mission ahead. There were bigger things at play, and right now, I couldn’t afford to let this derail me. I need to find Luffy. 

Sanji POV…

A Day Before…. 

"You wanted to tell me something, Pudding?" I asked, glancing around her quarters as we sat together. My mind was racing. I had to tell her that there wasn’t going to be a marriage anymore. Besides, I needed to get back to my princess before she woke up. There was no time for distractions.

Pudding fidgeted with the hem of her dress, her eyes downcast. “I… I was the one who led your crew to this island...” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

I blinked, caught off guard. "You led them to this island?" I repeated, the weight of her confession sinking in.

Her hands trembled slightly as she continued, “I’m sorry. I gave Luffy my word so that your crew could reach the southwest coast. I wanted to help you escape before Mama found out… but now, you're all in grave danger because of me.” Her voice was laced with despair, as though she’d carried this guilt alone for too long.

I exhaled slowly, piecing it all together. “I see now. I wondered how they managed to pass through all that security…” I muttered, realization dawning on me. “It was thanks to you.” I looked at her, softer this time, acknowledging her intent. “I know you meant well, but even then... I wouldn’t have gone to the coast.” I let the truth slip, knowing it contradicted what I’d told Y/N in the heat of the moment. I had lied to her... telling her I was coming back. The words burned in my memory, but I couldn’t have come back, not with these damn cuffs rendering me powerless.

Pudding looked up at me with tear-filled eyes. “No, Sanji… If you're worried about the invitation, then let me take the blame. She's my mom... I’ll be fine. She’s used to arranged marriages, and she places these special bracelets on people who she thinks might run away,” she said, her voice trembling as if she were bracing for something worse.

I pulled back my sleeve, revealing the golden cuffs that had been weighing on me like a death sentence. "I know," I said quietly, lifting my arm for her to see. “Your mom has the key to these. And if I want to get rid of them…” My voice dropped, and the dread I’d been trying to suppress washed over me again, “I have to defeat the Big Mom Pirates.”

"I’m willing to accept this marriage, but under one condition..." I said, my voice steady even though my heart felt like it was being torn in two. "I want Big Mom to let my friends go unharmed."

Pudding’s face twisted in guilt, her hands trembling as she covered her eyes. “I’m so sorry... You’re in so much pain, and it’s because of what I did,” she sobbed.

“Pudding, it’s not your fault. I promise.” I took a breath, knowing I needed to get this off my chest, to explain why I was making this decision. “Thirteen years ago… I managed to escape hell, only to walk right back into it again. But through it all, I should be happy. After all, I’m grateful to all the people I’ve met along the way, and... I can’t bear to hurt them.”

Pudding’s tears fell freely as she listened, her eyes filled with sorrow. I forced myself to push through the pain, to say what needed to be said. “That’s why my adventure ends here.”

She looked at me, her face filled with both pity and confusion. “I’m sorry... I can’t help it. But listen, Sanji... I promise, if you decide to marry me, I won’t let it be hell. I’ll make sure of it.” Her words wavered with sincerity, though the sorrow in her voice mirrored my own. “Oh dear, you’re suffering so much, and I’m making it all about me. You don’t want to marry me, so of course, it would be hell.”

She was right. I didn’t want this. I didn’t want her. My heart belonged to someone else entirely—someone who was probably waiting for me, not knowing the full truth. I thought of Y/N, her smile, her strength... everything about her that made me feel alive. But to protect her, I had to make this sacrifice.

“I don’t want to marry you...” I thought, the words silent in my mind as guilt gnawed at me. But I have to protect Y/N.

I pulled Pudding into my embrace, holding her gently as I made my decision clear. She cried softly against my chest, unaware of the storm brewing inside me. My thoughts drifted back to Y/N, to the lie I was once again telling her by accepting this marriage.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, for lying to you again...” I thought, feeling the weight of betrayal settle deep in my heart. But it was the only way. This was the only way to keep her safe, even if it meant sacrificing everything I wanted.

“You’re my salvation, Pudding," I said aloud, my voice tinged with a sadness I couldn’t hide. "If you’ll have me... I want us to get married in two days.”

The words felt like shards of glass leaving my mouth, cutting me with every syllable. This decision was the hardest one I’d ever had to make, but it was done. There was no turning back now.

The Next Day…

I hadn’t bothered to go back to my room last night. Instead, I stayed with Pudding, her soft breath against my chest as we lay together in bed. “Oh, sweet Pudding...” I thought, holding her close, but guilt began to creep into my thoughts. Y/N...

The intimate moment I shared with Y/N yesterday flooded my mind. I had left her alone in bed, only to be here with Pudding, trying to drown out the heaviness in my heart by pretending to enjoy this moment. I slowly rose from the bed, feeling the weight of my decisions as I decided to make Pudding some breakfast. But the idea of marrying her—it began to consume me, unsettling emotions fluttering inside me.

As I stepped outside for a moment, I overheard two soldiers talking nearby.

“You hear about the princess yesterday?” one soldier asked.

“Yeah, she’s in the medical wing right now. From what I heard, she fell down the stairs and was found unconscious,” the other replied, casually, as if they were talking about nothing more than the weather.

My eyes widened in shock. Fell down the stairs? Y/N?

“Serves her right for taking on our soldiers. That electricity tactic she uses really did a number on them,” the soldier continued, laughing slightly before returning to their duties.

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. Y/N... princess... what happened? I didn’t wait another second.

Rushing up the stairs, I made my way to Y/N’s room, my mind racing with fear and guilt. How could I have left her alone, after everything? Just as I reached her door, my path was blocked by none other than Ichiji, standing there with his arms crossed and an infuriating smirk on his face.

“Move, Ichiji. This doesn’t concern you,” I spat, trying to push past him, my anger boiling over.

Ichiji remained unfazed, his cold gaze locking with mine. “Anything my fiancée does concerns me, Sanji,” he replied, his voice oozing with arrogance, as if daring me to make a scene.

Fiancée. The word hit me like a brick, only adding to the storm of emotions already churning inside me.

“Fiancée?” I repeated bitterly, the weight of the situation crashing down on me.

“Yes,” he said, his smirk widening. “And if you’re here to see her, you’re wasting your time. Y/N is under my care now.”

Fury surged through me, and I clenched my fists, stepping closer to Ichiji. My voice came out low and threatening, barely controlled. "Under your care? What did you do to her?"

Ichiji raised an eyebrow, completely unfazed by the anger radiating off me. His smirk widened as he crossed his arms. “Oh, relax," he drawled, his tone as condescending as ever. "I didn’t do anything to her. She had a little accident. Fell down some stairs, apparently.”

I felt my jaw tighten at his casual tone, disbelief coursing through me. "An accident?" I hissed, my fists tightening. "And you just happened to find out?"

He shrugged with a nonchalant smirk, as if none of this mattered to him. “I found out the news this morning, just like you.

I could barely contain myself. Everything inside me screamed to push past him, to get to Y/N, to make sure she was okay. But Ichiji’s presence, his smug confidence, only made me feel more trapped.

“She’s not your responsibility, Ichiji,” I growled.

He chuckled, stepping closer. “She will be soon. Get used to it.”

Every part of me wanted to fight back, to lash out, but I knew if I made the wrong move now, it would only make things worse. For her.

I took a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest. "This isn't over," I said through gritted teeth, turning away for now.

I swiftly made it back to Pudding's quarters, feeling the rage inside me subside just a bit, but the questions still burned in my mind. Who the hell attacked Y/N, and why? The image of her hurt and alone gnawed at me, but I forced it down for now. I had to focus.

“Sanji…” Pudding’s soft voice broke through my thoughts as she stirred awake. Her sleepy eyes met mine, and I forced a smile, keeping my tone light.

“Good morning, dear,” I said nonchalantly, though the weight of my thoughts tugged at me. “I was making us some breakfast.”

She smiled warmly, pushing the covers off and making her way over to me, wrapping her arms around my waist. I returned the embrace, trying to keep my mind from drifting back to Y/N, the guilt clawing at me.

“We have a busy day today, don’t we?” I said with a smile, brushing some of her hair behind her ear.

“Yes, we do actually,” Pudding replied, hugging me a little tighter. I could feel her excitement, the joy she was radiating about the day ahead. But as I held her close, all I could think about was Y/N. I have to find out what really happened to her… 

[clarafae]

They rode under a canopy of white flowers so dense it was like a blanket of lace, the draping of a bridal veil over their heads. Spring was in all its splendour today. If the land had a personality, Lucien might have thought she was showing off for their little group, flashing red-breasted robins in the branches, exposing flowers that danced and rippled in the light breeze. 

The five of them rode horses down the gentle slope towards Rosewood Village to catch the morning markets. Nesta and Feyre had hung back, following a good distance behind, while Ianthe rode ahead, leading the way. And Elain... Lucien examined Elain out the corner of his eye as she rode a polite distance from his side. Her dress was a gown of pink tulle, giving her the appearance that she’d sprouted from the centre of a rare blossom. An immense hat was perched upon her head, a cascade of ribbons flowing over the brim.  

She shot him a glance, catching him mid-stare. “You don’t approve of women riding side-saddle,” she said.  

“Do you require my approval, Lady?” he returned with a slight smile.  

Continue reading on A03

[sylviesoothsayer22]

Well Matched - Chapter 5

Ranunculus Asiaticus Part II

Summary: Continuation of chapter 4.... Wei Wuxian now has to deal with the fact that he accidentally proposed to Ghost City's king...

Link for chapter 4: https://www.tumblr.com/sylviesoothsayer22/769679996158722048/well-matched-chapter-4?source=share

“That’s a serious accusation you’re making, Zhou.”

Almost every head snapped at the maple-robed youth who seemingly materialized out of nowhere. The only one not surprised was Black Flute, who already sat back down and helped himself to more wine. The uninvited guest was nonchalantly leaning against the betting table with his arms crossed. Giving the crowd a smile that was anything but kind.

“You know how this city treats cheaters, Old Man. Those who are dumb enough to get caught, anyway.” The final comment incited a few snickers here and there around the den.

Before Zhou could argue back, the youth casually grabbed the elder’s wine jar and took a mouthful from the unfinished jug. He sloshed the liquid back and forth in his mouth, swallowed and then shot Zhou a look of disdain.

“It’s not spiked. Lord Wuxian is simply no lightweight.” He snorts derisively. “Your tolerance is not what it used to be, Old Man.” Black Flute let out a laugh disguised as a cough behind his hand.

“And who the hell asked for your opinion?!” Zhou roared at the intruder. Utterly fed up with the situation. The youth raised a brow at the elder’s sheer stupidity.

“Are you a fucking idiot?!” Bái Māo cut in. “Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?! Look at his sword, you fool!” Old man does so and pales as soon as his eyes landed on the familiar weapon. A scimitar with a glowing red eye glaring back at the lesser ghost. Zhou wasted no time in kowtowing to Hua Chengzhu, tossing the keys of his winery at Wei Wuxian’s feet.

“Mercy, lord! This one did not kno-!”

“Scram.” Crimson Rain uttered in a bored manner. Lazily resting his hand on the pommel of a growling E’ming, immediately stilling it. Zhou did not waste any time and scurried out of there. All of Hua Cheng’s attention had already gone back to the younger ghost before him.

“I could’ve sworn I told you not to make a commotion.” He smirked.

“And I tried my best not to, my lord.” The younger ghost retorted cheekily “Have I already made a nuisance of myself, Chengzhu?”

“On the contrary, I found your antics rather charming.” He stated, not once looking away from those silver eyes. “It seems that I’ve picked quite the entertainer to be my wife.”

You could hear a pin drop from the brief silence that followed. Distantly, Hua Cheng heard the crowd break out into whispers among each other.

So, it is true?!

Black Flute actually gave Chengzhu his ashes?!

How has he not been dispersed yet?

Shhhhh!

Hua Cheng did not pay heed to the surrounding gossip. He was more drawn to how the younger ghost’s eyes widened briefly accompanied by a soft pink flush that started from the tip of his ears all the way down to his pale neck. His fingers twitched. Once more feeling the urge to preserve such a pleasant sight onto paper.

Suddenly, Wei Wuxian’s face split into a grin and he clapped back:

“Who are you calling wife?! Wasn’t it me who proposed?” He stared back at Hua Cheng, eyes twinkling “So, shouldn’t you be the wife, Chengzhu?”

The crowd gasped. Likely expecting their lord to punish the younger ghost for his insolence. Hua Cheng bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing.

Instead of answering right away, he took a few seconds to leer up and down at Lord Wuxian’s form before replying:

“Hmm. I think you’ll look much better in bridal robes compared to me.”

Feeling all eyes turn back to him, Wei Wuxian scrambled to retort: “…but wouldn’t I have to wear a veil?! How could you ask me to cover up my pretty face?”

“Well, aren’t we self-confident?” He drawled. “We can modify the wedding garb to suit your tastes.”

“How accommodating of you, my lord! I’m not sure what I’ve done to deserve it.”

“Whatever you need, I’ll gladly provide.”

Wei Wuxian’s smile was now all teeth. He leaned forward and Hua Cheng got a good look at the tick mark swelling on the younger’s forehead.

“Well, what I need now…” He gritted “…is to take a look at my winnings. I’m afraid Old Man Zhou forgot to give me directions to his winery. Could my betrothed show me the way?”

Hua Cheng snickered under his breath.

“Certainly.” He held out his hand. Carefully gauging the younger man’s irritation as he reluctantly laced his fingers with his. The whispers died down as he led Lord Wuxian out of the den. Hua Cheng knew that they wouldn’t stay quiet for long. The news will have spread all over the city before sunrise.

The wind nipped at their faces as they strolled past the busy market places and vendors. The sound of their booted feet scuffing against gravel echoed louder in their ears as the two men inched further and further away from the hustle and bustle of the main streets of Ghost City into its more secluded alleyways. Hua Cheng glanced at an uncharacteristically quiet Wei Wuxian.

Judging by how angry he was, Hua Cheng thought that the younger ghost would snap at him the moment they were alone. But Lord Wuxian seemed to have lost his fire the moment they stepped out of the den. Eyes glazed over with a slight frown and arms crossed, he appeared to be lost in his own thoughts.

Either he’s the type to quickly cool off after he’s gotten angry or-

Hua Cheng noticed the slight tension in the younger’s shoulders. Indicating that something was weighing on his mind.

Or it’s not me he’s irritated with.

Hua Cheng decided to gently break Wei Wuxian out of his own head and softly uttered:

“Something on your mind?”

“Huh?” The younger quickly glanced at Crimson Rain before focusing on the road ahead.

“…. did you plan on making a public announcement of our little ‘engagement’ or were you hoping to embarrass me?”

“My lord, everyone in Ghost City knows about your little proposal thanks to the courtesan you befriended a few nights ago. I’m only sorry that I didn’t get to see the look on your face when you found out.”

Wei Wuxian let out a pained groan and covered his face.

“If I knew that she was going to gossip about it, I wouldn’t have said anything!” He groused. “What kind of idiot proposes without knowing?!”

“You, apparently.” Hua Cheng retorted without a hint of remorse.

The younger let out a pathetic whine in response. Hua Cheng could only chuckle.

“Hey, Chengzhu…” Wei Wuxian began. Eyeing the red ribbon still firmly wrapped around Crimson Rain’s wrist. There was a hint of vulnerability within his next words “This ‘engagement’ isn’t legally binding, right?”

Ah. There’s the crux of the problem.

“Why are you asking?” He teased “Is the idea of binding yourself to me repulsive?” Feeling wrongfooted, Wei Wuxian could only stutter. Hua Cheng watched the amusing display for a few seconds before looking away.

“My apologies. I didn’t mean to make it awkward between you and your lover.”

“I-I don’t have a lover!”

Hua Cheng tried not to show any outward reaction at this bit of news.

“No? Then continuing this little charade shouldn’t be too hard for you then.”

“But I didn’t actually propose! Why not clear it up with everyone?”

“I’m afraid that’ll only add more fuel to the fire.” Hua Cheng sighed in mock-exasperation “The idea of two Calamities having a passionate love-affair makes for more juicy gossip than one of them making a foolish mistake. They’ll just think you’re being coy.”

“You’re enjoying every second of this, aren’t you?” Wei Wuxian hissed, unable to quell his embarrassment over the situation.

“Yes.” He answered back with a shameless grin.

“Hmph! If I didn’t know any better, Chengzhu, I’d say you’re just using this misunderstanding as an excuse to flirt with me.”

“And what if I am?”

“Huh?!”

“What if I choose to flirt with you for the sole purpose of making you blush like you did back at the den?”

“Then-then I’ll just have to embarrass you back!”

“By all means, go ahead. It’ll take several hundred years for you to reach my level of shamelessness, Lord Wuxian.”

“We’ll see about that!”

Hue Cheng let out a slight laugh. He finally took pity on the younger man and changed the subject.

“How did you manage to get Bái Māo on your side? He’s normally the overly-cautious type.”

“…it wasn’t really that difficult. All I promised him was that he could help me embarrass Zhou and he was ready to follow my lead. Apparently, there’s some bad blood between the two.”

Hua Cheng responded with a thoughtful hum before asking:

“Was it your idea for him to be the first one to sample the wine?”

“People prefer not to do anything out of the norm, unless they see someone else do it first. I wanted to slowly gain the crowd’s trust instead of having them fear me. Bái Māo helped me achieve that.”  

“Clever.” Hua Cheng complimented. “Did you also ask him to rile up Zhou on purpose?”

“I figured that the two of us could annoy the Old Man enough if he started acting stubborn.” Wei Wuxian shrugged. “I didn’t think that you would decide to step in.”

“What kind of man would I be if I didn’t jump to my betrothed’s defence?”

Wei Wuxian bit his lip. Refusing to rise to the bait. He couldn’t stop the blush colouring his ears, much to Hua Cheng’s delight.

“Offering everyone at the den a sample of the new wine was a nice touch as well.”

“Is Chengzhu going to give me more business advice?”

“No, you seem to be doing fine. For now.”

It was Wei Wuxian turn to be amused. The younger ghost let out a breathy laugh.

Both men continued walking in silence for a few more minutes until they finally arrived at their destination. The winery was old, rundown and clearly has not been well taken care of. Honestly, how Zhou expected to continue on with his job under these conditions and still make a profit was beyond Hua Cheng. He refused to waste space in his city for failing businesses.

“It’ll take some time to fully remodel the place.” He said, already making the arrangements in his mind. “If you need any help- what are you staring at?”

“You.” Was the quick response.

“I’m aware.” Hua Cheng replied dryly. “Why?”

Instead of answering right away, Wei Wuxian took a step closer in his direction. Silver eyes continued examining the older man’s visage, seemingly taking in every facial feature.

(He could feel E’ming let out a slight tremor in its sheathe. Hua Cheng gave it a warning squeeze.)

“I can’t help but wonder, how come you’re not showing anyone your true face these days?”

“It’s not uncommon for ghosts to take on a different appearance from time-to-time.” Hua Cheng answered nonchalantly.

“Judging by the rumours, I thought that Chengzhu would much prefer to stay in his original form.” A look of interest flickered on the elder ghost’s face.

“And just what did the rumours say about me?”

“Chengzhu, are you deflecting or fishing for compliments?”

Crimson Rain responded with a shrug. Wei Wuxian snickered under his breath and continued:

“ ‘A man with a face that is both handsome and feral, with skin as white as snow, along with a cruel smile and a lone red eye.’ ” He answered, as if he were reciting a line from an old book of fables. “Or something like that.” He deadpanned with a shrug of his own. Now impishly beaming at the elder.

Hua Cheng couldn’t hold back a snort.

“Nothing but over exaggerations. I didn’t take you for the kind of man to take gossip as fact.”

“Oh, don’t act all humble on me now.” The younger teased. Eyes alight with mischief. “What’s it going to take for you to show me?” Hua Cheng stared at the younger ghost for few seconds before slowly leaning into Lord Wuxian’s space until they were practically nose-to-nose, startling the younger ghost.

“If this is your attempt at ‘embarrassing’ me, I’m afraid your gonna have to try harder.” He leaned back and continued smugly “Not that it makes your efforts any less cute.”

“You..!”

At that moment, Hua Cheng felt his communication array open:

Chengzhu….

He held out a hand to stop Wei Wuxian from saying anything else as he listened to what Yin Yu had to say.

It appears that Qi Rong finally decided to express his displeasure over the new addition and has sent some of his lackeys to make a scene at the den. Shall I take care of them?

Hua Cheng let out an annoyed sigh. He could already feel a migraine crawling up his temples. Lord Wuxian was curiously staring at the silent Ghost King.

Leave some of them alive. I’ll send them back in pieces to the brat myself.

“It appears that we have to cut our conversation short.” He remarked and held back a smile as he could see the inquisitive Wei Wuxian barely stopping himself from questioning Hua Cheng’s odd behaviour.

“Leaving so soon? You haven’t even answered my question, yet!”

“Hmmm…. I’ll consider showing you my true face next time we meet.”

Before Wei Wuxian could retort, the alleyway was flooded by a sudden flash of light so blinding that he had to shield his eyes for a few moments. When he opened them again, Chengzhu was gone and there were only a few stray butterflies fluttering around. The younger ghost held out his hand, which prompted a curious butterfly to perch on his fingers.

“What a dramatic bastard...” Wei Ying whispered disbelievingly, biting his bottom lip to hold back the grin from taking over his face.

Not that I’m any better…

It wasn’t until later, when Hua Cheng had turned all of Qi Rong’s minions into a pile of meat and limbs on his -mostly empty- den’s floor did he recall E’ming’s strange reaction around Ghost City’s newest resident. He glared at the purring sword in his hand, satisfied that it had its bloodlust curbed.

“You like him, don’t you?” He accused. The damned thing hardly ever acted out of line until now. E’ming squinted its eye back at him.

As do you. It seemed to say.

Hua Cheng retaliated by flicking his fingers on that damnable eye.

Chapter End.

Omake:

WN: *stares at a spot on WWX’s head* Uhm. Wei-Gongzi…?

WWX: *Doesn’t even lift his head from whatever he’s working on* What is it, Wen Ning?

WN: Th-there’s something in your hair….

WWX: *blinks owlishly before making an oooh! sound* You mean the butterfly? Yeah. I tried to ditch it the other day, but it won't leave. *shrugs* Guess it’s living with us now.

WN: *wondering if Crimson Rain is spying on them as they speak* okaaay…..

Wraith-butterfly: *just chilling in the pretty man’s silky hair. He’s definitely nicer than its other master…*

Hope ya enjoyed! Be sure to leave a like and/or drop a comment!

Many thanks~

[ereardon]

Part One: The Night Before

Summary: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw has been your best friend for a decade. He’s also your fiancé’s best man. So when he shows up at your hotel room the night before your wedding, it’s just because he’s your friend, right? 

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader 

Warnings: Angst, pining, weddings, cursing 

WC: 2.9K

Series masterlist here; part two here

There was a knock at the door. 

You sighed and stood up from where you had been sitting at the desk writing your note to Jeremy for tomorrow. 

Maybe it was Anna with the steamer for your veil. Or your dad asking about the schedule for the forty-ninth time. Or your mother with an emergency that definitely wouldn’t warrant her reaction: the florist only has medium pink not light pink roses or the wedding planner accidentally wrote cream china instead of bone-colored china and now the three-hundred person reception hall would be wrong. 

Except you didn’t care. You didn’t care about any of the details. 

Not anymore. 

The knocking continued. 

“One second!” you huffed, scurrying barefoot across the bridal suite. It was enormous and you simply flung the door open without looking through the peephole first. “Rooster?” 

Bradley gave you a small grin. He was still wearing his jacket and tie from the rehearsal dinner, but the tie was now loosened and hanging around his muscular neck. “Hey Ace. Can I come in?” 

You nodded and stepped to the side of the door. Bradley stepped inside carefully, walking into the living room of the suite. 

“Shit, nice room,” he murmured. 

You shrugged. “Dad said to do whatever I wanted. And how many times do you get married? One night in a hotel suite isn’t going to break the bank.” 

Rooster nodded. “Yeah.” 

You crossed the room, brushing a hand over his back as you grazed past him toward the wet bar. “Want a drink?” 

“Sure. What do you have?” 

“Wine, gin, bourbon, vodka, whiskey, soda, champagne. Whatever you want, babe.” 

“Bourbon on the rocks.” 

“You got it.” You grabbed a rocks glass and dropped in a few large cubes from the built-in ice maker before splashing a generous pour of Blanton’s over it. Despite the fact that you had promised yourself you were done drinking after the rehearsal dinner, you poured yourself a glass of champagne and sunk down on the couch next to Bradley, holding out his glass. “Cheers.” 

“Cheers,” Bradley whispered, tipping the glass back and pouring half of it down his throat. You sipped carefully at your champagne flute, eyes wide. 

“What’s up, Roo?” you asked softly, hand reaching out on the back of the white silk couch, touching him. He curled his fingertips around yours. 

“Do you remember the night we met?” he asked. 

You laughed. “Of course I do. You spilled an entire tray of tequila shots on my shoes.” 

It had been a hot June Saturday. You were out with a few girlfriends. You had just finished your junior year at Georgetown and were back home in Annapolis. 

You were standing at the bar, ordering another round, when the oaf next to you turned too quickly, taking down a waitress and her entire platter of tequila shots. They rained down on your feet. Thankfully you were wearing sneakers, so no glass penetrated your skin, but you smelled like the inside of a Mexican brothel. 

“Dude?” you exclaimed, looking up at him. 

Bradley Bradshaw looked back with wide eyes, cheeks flushed with pink embarrassment. “Oh shit!” he exclaimed and before you realized it, you were swept into his arms and he was carrying you bride-style into the unisex bathroom in the back. 

“Hey man?” you asked, tapping his shoulder. “Want to put me down?” 

“Sorry, yeah,” he said, setting you down gently. You tugged at your denim shorts and gave him a funny look. 

“Why’d you do that?” 

“In case there was glass,” he said softly. “Didn’t want you to step on it and hurt yourself.” 

You peeled off your white Keds, which were soaked and now a faint yellow color, and lifted one leg to dunk your foot into the gross sink. “You just go around pouring tequila on girls and then scooping them up and hauling them into dark bathrooms?” 

“I, uh,” Bradley stuttered and you laughed. He caught your gaze in the mirror and laughed with you. “I’m Bradley.” 

“Y/N,” you said. “Now are you gonna help me wash my shoes or what?” 

He picked up the Keds from the floor and took them to the other sink, rinsing them under cold water and pressing soap against the cloth sides. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t see that waitress standing there.” 

You shrugged. “It’s fine. Not the first time I’ve had a drink spilled on me. I’ve been to my share of college parties.” 

He grinned. “Where do you go?” 

“Georgetown,” you replied and he raised an eyebrow. “I’ll be a senior in the fall.”

“Georgetown,” he repeated. “Impressive.”

“Not really.” You switched feet, lathering the cheap pink soap over the toes of your left foot. “How about you, tequila boy? What’s your story?” 

“Naval Academy,” he said and you peered at him. It made sense, you guessed. He was tall, lean, and muscular. He had deft hands, you could tell just from the way he was cleaning your shoes. And he had a quick reaction to scooping you up and hauling you into the bathroom, despite your protests. 

“Just at the bar trying to sleep with townies?” you asked. 

Bradley practically choked on his own spit. He caught your cackle in the mirror and turned to you with a grin. “God, you’re something, aren’t you?” 

“I’m drunk is what I am,” you replied. 

He held the shoes under the automatic hand dryer and you watched in silence as Bradley rotated them evenly. After a few minutes, he held them out to you. “Not perfect, but it’ll do.” 

“Thanks,” you murmured, reaching out and grabbing them. You leaned against the cool white porcelain sink to slide each shoe on, bending over to tie the laces. When you straightened up, Bradley was staring at you. You crossed your arms in front of your chest, leaning back against the sink. “So, sailor,” you said softly and he grinned. “Buy me a drink to make up for the truckload of tequila you dumped on me?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Bradley placed his hand on your low back and steered you out back into the bar. Someone had cleaned up the tequila catastrophe and you stepped right back to where you had been standing before the incident, Bradley’s fingers still warm on your back. They slid off as he went to grab his wallet to open a tab and you looked up at him. He was attractive in an entirely unexpected way. There were small scars that peppered the left side of his face and you wanted to reach out and trail your fingers over them. 

He handed you a glass — a vodka soda this time — and you smiled at him. Bradley smiled back. 

And then a hand appeared on his shoulder and you looked up. A guy with the whitest teeth and perfect Dr. McDreamy hair stared back at you. “Bradshaw, who’s your friend?” 

He was gorgeous. You felt your blood freeze for a moment. 

And then Bradley’s voice pulled you out of your coma. 

“Y/N, this is Jeremy. He’s my roommate at the academy.” 

Jeremy smiled and you felt your heart speed up. “Nice to meet you.” 

You left that night on Jeremy’s arm. He brought you back to his room at the academy; you were staying for the summer with your parents and bringing a boy home that you had met two hours earlier would have sent up red flags to your father. 

After, you got dressed and left Jeremy asleep on his bed. You cracked the door open carefully, closing it behind you with a soft thud. 

And then you almost tripped on a leg jutting out into the hallway. 

“Fuck!” You stumbled but righted yourself at the last moment. Bradley gazed up at you with tired eyes. “Bradley?” 

He nodded and stood up, wiping at his eyes. His Hawaiian shirt was rumpled and it looked like he had been asleep against the wall. 

“Were you sleeping?” 

“Just closed my eyes for a second,” he whispered. 

You looked down at your watch and groaned. “Shit.” It was almost four in the morning. Your dad would definitely be looking for you. You looked back at him. “I’m sorry.” 

Bradley shrugged. “It’s fine. Happens.” 

You looked back at the door, forlorn. So it happened a lot. You shouldn’t have been surprised. You had slept with Jeremy after three rounds of drinks. Why would you think that wasn’t a regular occurrence for him? You nodded. “I see.” 

“Y/N,” Bradley reached out and grabbed your hand. You looked up at him. “That’s not what I meant.” He sighed. “Jeremy, he’s a good guy. You should know that.” 

You smiled. “I needed to hear that. Thanks.” 

Bradley smiled back at you. “Well, I should probably get some rest.” 

You nodded. “Yeah, I should go.” 

“Do you need a ride or something?” 

“I’ll just get an Uber.” 

“I can wait with you.” 

“You’d do that?”

Bradley squeezed your hand. You hadn’t even realized he had never dropped it. “Of course.” 

The two of you stood in silence outside the dorm building. You were cold in the early morning fog. You shivered and Bradley shrugged out of his ugly Hawaiian button up and handed it to you. 

“Here.” 

“Oh. Thanks.” You slid it on. It smelled like suntan lotion and beer and it was warm from where it had hugged Bradley’s boxy form. 

A Honda rolled up slowly and you checked your phone, reading out the license plate. 

“This is me,” you confirmed. Bradley nodded. You stepped to the curb and pulled open the door. “Hey, Bradley?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Maybe I’ll see you around.” 

He smiled. “I hope so.” 

“Why is that what you’re thinking of?” you asked softly, taking another sip of champagne. 

Bradley leaned back against the white couch, sliding his arm down to his side. You combed your fingers through his hair at his temple and he shut his eyes. “How’d we get here, Ace?” 

“Get where, honey?” you asked. 

Bradley sat up and looked at you. “Here, Y/N. With you marrying my best friend tomorrow, in the ballroom downstairs.” 

You reeled back. There was a fire in Bradley’s eyes. You had seen that look before. “Brad,” you whispered. “What’s going on?” 

“Why are you marrying him, Y/N?” he asked. “Why him?” 

Your mouth popped open. Suddenly, it felt like the entire suite was devoid of air. You wanted to gasp but there was nothing to suck into your lungs. All that existed in that moment was Bradley.

“Roo? You’re not gonna believe it.” 

Bradley took a deep breath. “What is it, Ace?” 

“Jeremy asked me to marry him!”

He looked at your face. How fucking estatic you were. It had been seven years since the night the three of you met. Well, since the night you and Bradley had met, Jeremy had shown up out of the blue. Swooping in. Stealing the girl. Doing what he had always done. 

But this time had been different. You were different. 

You should have been his. 

“Bradley?” 

He looked up into your eyes. “What did you say?” 

You rolled your eyes. “I said yes, Brad. Of course I said yes.” 

And then you launched yourself into his arms, his hands wrapped around your waist, your fingers pressed tightly around his neck. 

You whispered into his ear. “I’m getting married, Bradley. How crazy is that?” 

He pulled you in closer. “It’s insane,” he murmured against your neck. “I can’t believe it.” 

“What did you say?” you asked, aghast. 

Bradley’s eyes were trained on yours. There was a hardness in his features that you recognized from all the times the two of you had been in difficult spots before. The first time he and Jeremy deployed together and you held both of them on the tarmac, tears in your eyes, your voice hoarse from spending the entire night before crying. It was the same look he had when Carole died and you had stood in a black wrap dress under an umbrella in the rain next to Bradley as they lowered her casket into the ground. It was the way he looked at you when you said the doctor found a mass on your ovary, only for them to remove it and confirm it was benign a few weeks later. It was the way he looked the night you had fought when he accused you of throwing your life away to follow him and Jeremy around the country from base to base. 

You had never been able to let him go. It was always the three of you. It had always been the three of you. 

Even when it was supposed to just be you and Jeremy. Bradley had always been there, in the shadows, never out of reach. It’s how you wanted him. It’s how you needed him. 

“Brad?” 

“Don’t marry him,” Bradley said. “Please.” 

You had loved Bradley Bradshaw for years. He was the best friend you had ever had. He fit so seamlessly into your life that you could barely remember a moment when he wasn't in it. 

He was the person holding your hair when you drank too much on your twenty-fifth birthday in Las Vegas. Bradley was there when you ran your first marathon. He was there when you and Jeremy bought the house. He was there the day you brought home Buddy, your labrador rescue. Somehow every single memory over the last decade has Bradley on the edges of it. 

He was also Jeremy’s best friend. 

“Most of you know me. I’m Bradley Bradshaw, best friend of the groom and best man.” Bradley paused while there were cheers from the tables of other Naval aviators. You grinned up at him from where you sat next to him. “But you might not know that I’m also a best friend of the bride’s.” He gazed down at you. “Y/N isn’t just the best thing that happened to Jeremy. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, too. So it’s the greatest honor of my life to be here with you all as they commit themselves to each other. I’ve been the third wheel for most of their firsts.” There was laughter in the audience but Bradley didn’t notice. His eyes were still on yours. You held his gaze, unblinking. “Tomorrow is just another first for these two. Here’s to a lifetime together. I love you both.” 

Finally he lifted his gaze from yours and raised his glass. 

“A toast to Jeremy and Y/N. Thank God I spilled tequila all over her shoes a decade ago or we wouldn’t be here now.” 

More cheering. Bradley gulped down his entire flute of champagne and sat down. You leaned over and wrapped your arms around his neck. “I love you, Roo,” you whispered into his ear. 

His hand came out and brushed against the white silk of your dress where it sat on your hip. “I love you too, baby.” 

Bradley’s soft brown eyes bore into yours. You suddenly felt exposed in your thin white lace nightgown that you had been wearing when you answered the door. You stood up and crossed the room, shrugging on the matching robe, cinching it tightly around your waist. So tight it hurt. 

Everything hurt. 

“What are you saying?” you whispered. “I’m getting married in less than twenty-four hours, Bradley. Why are you doing this?” 

Bradley stood up. “Because I can’t watch you get up there and walk down the aisle to him.” 

“Why?” you wailed. “Why the fuck not, Bradley?” 

“Because it should be me!” he shouted and you froze. Bradley froze. The air in the room froze. 

“What did you say?” Your voice was barely a whisper. It was so thin it could break. The way Bradley was breaking but you just couldn’t see it. Maybe it had always been like this and you had never seen it. 

Bradley strode across the room until the two of you were only inches apart, his hands on your neck, tilting your head up to look at him. “I love you, Y/N. I’ve loved you since that very first night at the bar. I kick myself every night for not making you mine before Jeremy could.” 

“Bradley.” 

He dropped his hands and took a step back. You felt tears start to well behind your eyes. “I wanted to tell you, Y/N. I started to. A hundred times. A thousand. But then I saw how happy you were with him and I stopped myself. I care more about you being happy than anything else in the world.” 

He paused. You wiped at the tears beneath your eyes, the heavy diamond on your left hand grazing your cheek. 

A reminder. 

Bradley took a breath. “I’ll walk away, Ace. I’ll go back to my room and pretend I never came here. And tomorrow I’ll stand up there next to Jeremy and watch you walk down the aisle like the most beautiful bride on the planet and I’ll try to forget that I’ve loved you for a decade and nobody else can compare to you. I’ll do all of that, if you can answer one question for me.” 

You raised your eyes to his. 

“Does he make you as happy as I would make you?” 

A/N: This is a two-part series!

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[ibijau]

Sins of the father pt1 / On AO3 Wanting an alliance with the Yiling sect, Jin Guangshan arranges a marriage. One of the children Wei Wuxian had from his infamous harem of seducted women will marry his own grandson, Jin Ling, in exchange for a large sum of money. Of course Jin Ling is less than thrilled about it, and it seems neither is Wen Yuan, the strange and silent boy who now shares his life. Nobody in the history of the world has ever been more unlucky than Jin Ling. But there is more to his new husband than meet the eye, and if Jin Ling can figure out what secrets Wen Yuan holds, he might just have a shot at happiness.

The weather had started pretty good that morning, only to quickly degrade as time passed. It was nearly a full blown storm by the time the bride's sedan appeared down the road, with such rain and wind that would ruin everyone's clothes. Jin Ling took it as a bad omen. But of course, Jin Ling was in a mood where he would have found fault even with sunny weather. The blue skies were mocking his misery, he would have said. Still, it was very stormy, and that felt appropriate for the most mismatched wedding the world had ever seen. 

Naturally, Jin Guangshan was to blame. Jin Ling used to adore the man who spoiled him rotten, but in recent years he'd somewhat revised that opinion. At now fifteen, Jin Ling was starting to suspect that everything wrong with his sect could be traced back to his grandfather. It was an opinion he kept to himself. People were already quick to call him insolent, arrogant, or ungrateful, he didn't want to prove them right. Besides, grown-ups hated it when young people were smarter than them, and Jin Ling suspected many adults in his life hadn't yet realised what a problem their sect leader was. 

But really, it had been Jin Guangshan's idea, this wedding, as well as the alliance going with it. And he'd refused to listen to reason when anyone had pointed out the risks, which was one thing. But he'd also not paid any mind to his oldest grandson's very real emotions on the topic, which Jin Ling hadn't expected. He was the oldest grandson, the future heir. He'd thought his wishes would have more weight than that, but Jin Guangshan had been quick to put him back in his place, letting him know nobody cared about what he wanted.

And now Jin Ling was getting married, against his will. 

As the bride's sedan came closer, it became noticeable that people were accompanying it. Jin Ling squinted, trying to get a look at his future spouse's friends and relatives. Instead he saw nothing but a dozen corpses, some half rotten, others as fresh as if they'd just died, which had to be worse. There was only one living person visible, a gaunt man wearing dark robes who walked in front of the rest. Even without ever meeting him, Jin Ling knew this had to be Wei Wuxian, the Yiling Patriarch, the entire reason for this whole stupid wedding. 

At last, the bridal sedan arrived in front of Carp Tower's gates. The sedan's door opened and Jin Ling got a first peek at his bride, a slender figure dressed in red, whose head was covered by an opaque veil of the same colour. When that person stepped out, Jin Ling wondered if there had been a change of plan, if Wei Wuxian had found a daughter of his own after all, one he was willing to sacrifice for Jin money. There was no way this small, frail figure belonged to the boy of seventeen whom the Jin sect had bought. This bride was shorter than Jin Ling, and more slender too, when already Jin Ling was at that difficult stage of growth when his entire body seemed made of bones with no flesh attached. A girl would be a better deal, of course, as she could give the Jin sect an heir. But she'd be in more danger with some of her in-laws, especially if she had the misfortune of being the least bit pretty. 

But no, this had to be a boy. There was a very flat chest as a first hint, and then the hands peeking out of the sleeves, the only visible part of this newcomer, looked too big and rough for a girl. This really had to be Wen Yuan, the bastard son to whom Wei Wuxian hadn't deigned to give his own name. 

Jin Zixuan nudged his son, and Jin Ling stepped forward to offer his hand to his bride. This earned him a glare for Wei Wuxian, as if somehow Jin Ling was at fault for this situation, as if it weren't Wei Wuxian himself who had sold them his own child. Wen Yuan did not move. Perhaps the veil was too thick, and he couldn't see Jin Ling's hand. Or else he saw it, and just didn't want to take it, to make Jin Ling look foolish. 

“We welcome you here,” Jin Ling said, sounding awkward to his own ears. “We hope… we hope our preparations for this joyful day will satisfy you.”

Wei Wuxian's glare intensified, seizing Jin Ling with terror he couldn't control. It wasn't just him, either. Behind him, the adults were shifting uncomfortably. Even Jin Ling's mother looked ready to jump in, as if she didn't quite trust her childhood friend after all. 

“I will take the money before I give you the boy,” Wei Wuxian announced. 

Jin Guangshan stepped closer, although he did not dare approach as much as Jin Ling had. 

“We have it, of course. But surely such matters can wait until after the ceremony? We have prepared a banquet that you will surely…”

“I will have the money now,” Wei Wuxian cut him, his expression darker still. “And I will not step inside Carp Tower, not unless my people can follow me there.” 

Saying this, he gestured at the corpses which had now gathered behind him in two neat rows, like an army following its commander. 

“Someone go get the chest,” Jin Guangshan ordered. “Guangyao ! Hurry!” 

Jin Guangyao rushed away, and the wait began, made uncomfortable by the rain and the wind. Even with his pretty good cultivation, Jin Ling was starting to feel cold, and he knew he couldn't be the only one. His mother had to be miserable, and his younger siblings too. It gave Jin Ling some twisted joy to notice that Wen Yuan was shivering too, suffering as well from the capricious whims of his father, but that was short lived. Wei Wuxian himself appeared untouched by the dreadful weather, still standing tall and proud to glare at everyone, never noticing the discomfort of his own child. But then again, what more could be expected of a father so willing to sell his son? 

At last Jin Guangyao returned, carrying a small chest Jin Ling knew to be filled with gold. The price of Wen Yuan's life, of Jin Ling's own ruined future. Wei Wuxian opened the chest to check its content, something Jin Ling found unspeakably rude, while knowing his grandfather would have done the same had the positions been reversed. When he was satisfied with what he'd counted, Wei Wuxian handed the chest to one of his corpse soldiers. He then turned to Jin Ling, his expression severe. 

“If anything happens to my son, I will make your family wish you were never born,” Wei Wuxian warned. “And I'll make you watch everything I do to them, until there's nothing left of this sect but ashes. This is my son, and your treatment of him will be taken as a reflection of your respect for me. Am I clear?” 

Jin Ling quickly nodded, so nervous he could hardly breathe. Wei Wuxian turned his cold eyes to Jin Guangshan. 

“The same goes for you, and for that son of yours.”

While Jin Guangshan swore that Wen Yuan would be treated well, Jin Ling wondered why Wei Wuxian was worried his father of all people would do anything bad. It was fair to be wary of Jin Ling himself, who as a husband could easily mistreat his new bride if he wished, although he'd been raised better than that. And as for Jin Guangshan… The less said, the better. But Jin Zixuan ? He was universally well liked, and well respected, with a reputation for kindness. Why would Wei Wuxian think his son would be the exception to Jin Zixuan's kind disposition? Was Jin Ling's new bride so unlikeable that even his father might get irritated? 

While Jin Ling worried, Wei Wuxian took his son in his arms and hugged him tight. It would have seemed like a sincerely affectionate goodbye, had Jin Ling not known how much money his father-in-law was earning from this.

“Don't forget what I've taught you,” Wei Wuxian ordered Wen Yuan, his voice wavering. “Let me know immediately if anything is wrong. I meant it, I won't let anyone hurt you.” 

Wen Yuan nodded, but said nothing. And yet when Jin Ling was finally allowed to take his bride's hand to guide him inside Carp Tower, he found the older boy's fingers were icy and shaking from emotions he couldn't hide. 

Wei Wuxian watched as the entire Jin sect followed the young couple, all of them in a hurry to put distance between him and them. Glancing back, Jin Ling saw his mother linger a moment, hesitating to approach the man who had once been a boy she knew, before her husband lead her away so she wouldn't miss any part of her son's wedding. 

-

It felt wrong to get married to someone who didn't have a single person representing their family, nor a single friend. Wen Yuan might as well have been a ghost… But no, even a ghost wedding would have had relatives present, someone, anyone. 

Jin Ling knew he ought to have felt sorry for his bride, but he was too busy being humiliated that this was the spouse his grandfather had found him, someone so unwanted and isolated. Everyone his age was going to mock him and say even all of the Jin money wasn't enough to find him a decent spouse when Jin Ling's personality was so difficult. 

But the worst was yet to come. 

After every usual ceremony, Jin Ling and Wen Yuan were sent to the house they would now occupy as a married couple. It was another thing that upset Jin Ling about the whole business, being made to leave his old room to move too far away from his parents and siblings to see them as easily as he used to. He hadn't even had a choice in the decoration, so everything looked showy, the way his grandfather preferred. 

Once the door closed behind them and they were alone for the first time, Wen Yuan pulled on his veil to remove it. Jin Ling didn't have time to be disappointed he couldn't do that himself. Instead, he was faced with the greatest shock of the day, the final humiliation this marriage had to throw his way.

“Oh damn, you're ugly!” Jin Ling exclaimed. 

Wen Yuan's cold eyes turned to him, his face impassive. Maybe it didn't hurt him because he knew he was ugly. There was no way he didn't know, actually. But really, there was nothing appealing about him. He was skinny, even more so than Jin Ling had suspected. This was not the elegant slenderness of a talented cultivator, either. Instead, Wen Yuan looked as famished as a peasant after a decade of bad harvests. He was also deathly pale, making for a harsh contrast when his cold eyes were surrounded by dark circles. There had been an attempt to tie his hair elegantly, but the result was messy, his hair in such a bad condition that it couldn't hold in place. 

People said Wei Wuxian had been a handsome youth, comparable to the twin jades of Gusu Lan, and even to Jin Ling's own father. Apparently, his son had inherited none of that charm. It made Jin Ling want to cry from humiliation. They'd bought him a bride, such an expensive one, too, and this was all his family could find for him. Jin Chan and the rest of his cousins were going to laugh at him for the rest of his life. 

Jin Ling's existence was ruined for ever. 

Still, that poor half dead boy in front of him wasn't to blame. They'd both been treated like pawns by the adults around them, but maybe they could make the best of this. Ugly as he was, Wen Yuan might at least be clever, or kind, or funny, or anything at all, as long as it didn't bring Jin Ling even more shame. 

“Sorry, I was rude,” Jin Ling said. “I just didn't expect… Nevermind that. Do you want to eat?”

He gestured at the food which had been laid out for them before they even arrived, selected from the banquet his grandfather and his guests were having in the main hall. Every dish was more elaborate than the last, except for a pot of simple lotus root soup. Normally Jin Ling loved it, but everything was so awful that day, even the sight of that soup felt embarrassing. His mother was the wife of the future sect leader, she should behave like it. Now Wen Yuan was going to think this soup was among the best they could offer, and… And it was! No dish in the world could beat it, but it was just a simple soup, it had no place at a wedding banquet… But Jin Ling loved it, and his mother had made it because she loved him, and… 

“Come on, let's sit and eat,” Jin Ling grumbled. “You must be hungry.” 

He went to sit at the table. Wen Yuan hesitantly followed him, glaring at the dishes as if one of them might bite him. Maybe he really was scared, in fact, because he just sat there and didn't move to take anything. 

“You can have anything you like,” Jin Ling insisted, demonstrating by putting some food on his own plate. “All of this is for us. Or do you want to drink, first? There‘s wine here, but I can ask for water or tea if you'd prefer.”

Wen Yuan said nothing, and still didn't move. Maybe he was one of Wei Wuxian's fierce corpses, Jin Ling wondered, before quickly dismissing the idea. There were arrays in place around Carp Tower, a fierce corpse couldn't have gone in without notice. His new bride was alive. Rude, unpleasant, ugly, but alive.

“If you don't eat meat, that dish is vegetarian,” Jin Ling offered. “That one too, I think. And there's fried rice here, I don't think that has meat. Just eat something, alright?” 

Still silent, Wen Yuan watched him like a hawk. Maybe he was deaf. Maybe he was stupid? Maybe he'd grown up surrounded only by walking corpses, never getting a chance to develop social skills or learn any manners. 

Maybe… 

Maybe Jin Ling was too angry to care anymore. He'd done his best to be welcoming, he'd done his duty as a new husband, what more was he supposed to do? If Wen Yuan didn't want to eat, he could starve for all Jin Ling cared. But as for Jin Ling himself, he started scarfing down food, because he hadn't had anything since dawn anyway. 

Almost immediately, Wen Yuan served himself some of the same dishes Jin Ling was eating, and started his meal. He ate only small pieces, and very slowly at that, as if the richest foods the Jin sect could offer didn't quite satisfy him. Or maybe he feared poison, Jin Ling realised when he tried other foods, only for his new husband to try them after him, never eating anything that Jin Ling hadn't tasted first. As if they'd be stupid enough to hurt Wen Yuan, when it might start a conflict with Wei Wuxian. 

When they were done eating, Jin Ling had servants take away the leftovers. He made sure to stand near his new bride until they left, and to smile as if the situation were a pleasing one. He didn't want to give his grandfather any reason to be displeased with him, on top of everything else. 

Alone again with his husband, Jin Ling ought to have chatted with him. A wedding night was a good occasion to get to know one's spouse after all. But Wen Yuan hadn't said a single word so far, and Jin Ling doubted it was about to change. So although it was still early in the day, Jin Ling showed Wen Yuan his bedroom. Jin Guangshan, with his views of marital fidelity, had agreed the newlyweds should be allowed separate rooms. A small kindness, easily granted when he had no grandchildren to expect from that union. Wen Yuan did not look surprised to have his own space, nor pleased, nor even upset. His indifference appeared limitless. Without even thanking Jin Ling or wishing him good night, Wen Yuan entered the room and promptly closed the door behind him. 

This had to be the worst wedding in history, Jin Ling miserably thought as he walked to his own room. A fitting prelude for what was sure to be the most miserable marriage ever, worse even than that of his grandparents, who hadn't spoken to each other in five years at that point. It was just so unfair, and Jin Ling wanted to die, so everyone would miss him and regret that they'd forced him to marry that corpse-like boy. Or maybe he run away to Yunmeng and ask his uncle to adopt him and then someone else could get his husband. Jin Chan, maybe. They'd make a fitting couple, both of them unpleasant to look at, and even worse to be around. 

Or else, or else… 

Jin Ling fell asleep like that, imagining elaborate scenarios that freed him from this nightmare, quite certain that he was the most unfortunate person who had ever lived.

[shaadiwish]

Here Are Some Fantastic & Trending Bridal Veil Shots That Took Our Breaths Away

[industria-adastra]

[PMMM] like clockwork orange (keep your eyes buttered 'til the end

Summary:

Love, or maybe like—easy to give, harder to make stay. But oftentimes it was a hardy, persistent thing; torn so thin yet still holding on. Like spider silk, as some might’ve said. Like an illness, others might call it—chewing away at your senses, turning wrong to right, turning your vision rose-pink and making splatters of red seem ordinary.

Or: despite everything, she was still Madoka.

Pairing: Kriemhild Gretchen/Akemi Homura

Note: this is one of my darker works, so please heed the tags before clicking to read

-----

“I love you,” she’d once said, snot running down her nose, tears blinding her awful vision; so cold she couldn’t even realise that Madoka’s body had already started cooling. Homura had kept the gun and searched for the bullet that shot through Madoka’s soul. Had stared at the filthy metal in a hospital bathroom, wondering if she should fuse it to her heart—the lead poisoning would’ve been a vivid reminder of her sins. 

She didn’t, but she kept it with her through everything. It wasn’t as if she needed something physical to remind her, but the cool metal was better than a cold body. 

-

“I love you,” she’d once whispered into Madoka’s hair, or maybe twice, thrice, an unending cycle of being a dog at Madoka’s feet; collared and chained through her heart. A freak clutching at her skirts looking for absolution. Homura had begged her, more than once, repeating those same actions, the same words like a prayer on her lips.

There had been invisible blood on her hands—Mami, Sayaka and Kyoko—crimes of omission, dead through her inaction, culminating in her worst nightmare. An eye for an eye, a heart for a heart.

Madoka didn’t scream, that time. Nor did she scream in all those other times. It had cracked too quickly, broken in a flash, yolk tumbling out half shattered and spiked with eggshell. The witch had been a formless thing, reaching out for the stars in all its newborn naivety. 

-

“I love you,” she’d once choked out, bloody tears in her eyes and chest pinned wide open; open like her arms in a warm welcome—adorned in bridal white, her hair strewn wide like a veil. Kriemhild Gretchen was nothing like Madoka, all sharp edges where it had once been rounded, inviting in the way a spider beckoned its prey. There had been static everywhere, jagged screaming singing of rapture. Kriemhild’s fingers had twined around Homura’s own, and she’d only been glad that her own fingers hadn’t been twisted like so.

Homura’s eyes were closed, but she thought she might’ve heard the sound of a toddler’s wailing.

-

“I love you,” she said this morning (or maybe it had been the afternoon or evening), cutting into fleshy bread and drinking wine as red as blood. It had dribbled down her lips from an open-mouthed kiss, sloppy and rough and alien through the way a tongue had been shoved down her throat, probing her oesophagus; the way Madoka’s teeth had snapped off her tongue, the way it felt like vomit should’ve been pouring out her mouth. Madoka’s hands had pressed firmly onto her hips, nails sinking into the naked flesh as a heartbeat thundered in her ears. Something wet glided across her chest, cold and stinking to high heaven. 

Homura’s eyes were half-lidded as she lost herself further, threading fingers through pink locks that were smooth and sandpaper-like all at once.

Madoka’s body was cold. 

[stark---contrast]

@stevetonygames team Future | Square "Nope Nope Nope" | 100 words | Earth-3490 (aka the Natasha Stark universe)

"No. Nuh-uh. Nope, nope, nope."

"It's just a bridal gown," Jan said. "It's not gonna bite you."

Natasha crossed her arms. "You don't know that. A sentient dress wouldn't be the weirdest thing that's happened to us by a long shot."

Jan closed her sketchbook with a sigh. "I take it you've already decided on an outfit?"

"Well," Natasha said with a smirk, "why buy my three hundredth dress when I already have something that's guaranteed to get everyone's attention?"

Jan stared. "Please tell me you're not marrying Steve in the armor."

"...You can make a veil for the helmet?"

[69bitterbeingz]

IF YOU'RE GONNA BE DUMB || CH. 9

<- prev | next ->

DISCLAIMER: This is a reupload from my prev account! best to follow the fic through ao3 [linked below] to avoid any future issues PAIRINGS - johnny knoxville, bam margera, steve-o, chris pontius, ryan dunn x female reader WARNINGS - swearing, drinking, injury

ao3 version

The moon floated in the cloudy night sky like a coin in inky black water, stars barely peeking through the haze like drops of milk. Big Ben’s spire pierced through the veil, and when the camera panned down, a man– no, creature , howled in the lonely streets, his hands raised towards the stars. 

“This has got to be the dumbest one yet.”

“Dumber than getting thrown around like a football?” Johnny replied, laughing incredulously at your remark; you shook your head.

“No no , that’s a totally different breed of dumb. This is just…” You trailed off, then gestured at Chris, gleefully sprinting down the road in a hoodie and wolf mask. “Look at him.”

“C’mon, don’t be a fuckin’ killjoy.” Steve-O teased, nudging your ribs a little harder than you expected and making you jolt. With a jab back at his ribs, you smiled.

“I can call it stupid and still enjoy it.”

It was hardly even a stunt, simply an excuse to run around like a knob and weird people out, and all of you followed along like giggling kids. Some shots were a bit of a hassle - should’ve known that popping out at people on a late night tube would tempt some wanker to take a swing at Chris, but you all managed to escape just as the carriage doors opened, so no harm no foul. Besides, you bet these guys have been in worse scraps. To be honest, out of all the stunts the lot of you had filmed over your time in England, this was by far your favourite. No cringeworthy accidents, nothing totally disgusting or grim, just running around like headless chickens while Chris howled for all he was worth. It was just lighthearted fun, and a great way to close out your shoot. Even you got involved, although… not knowingly . You were distracted settling a debate with Steve-O [“you can smoke damn near anything, trust me, i have” “yeah but smoking incense like a cigarette can not be good for you”] when his expression suddenly changed from neutral to a shitty smirk. Before you had time to question what the hell he was so smiley about, you were literally swept off your feet. You screamed, as whoever had you in the bridal carry howled like a mad man; at least it was obvious who it was long before he had reached the park, giggling in a very un- wolflike way.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You asked, a little breathless as you clung to the front of his hoodie - you really wished he wasn’t wearing that shitty wolf mask, the low light of the street lamps made it look genuinely freaky. 

Chris chuckled, putting on a darker tone this time. “ You’re fresh meat.” Though the ‘intimidating’ voice didn’t last long, as he broke back into a dopey giggle. When he finally ran back to the crew and put you down, you promised yourself to watch your back more vigilantly in the future. With that little escapade, everyone decided you had enough footage of Chris jumpscaring poor passers-by, the executive decision was made for celebration drinks in a bar near Tower Bridge. Tremaine was nice enough to get the first couple rounds for everyone, toasting the crew for their hard work on the past few months of shooting; he then turned to Johnny, Chris and Steve-O to make a special mention: “takes balls to do the dumb shit you guys put yourselves through.”

“Hear hear!”

Down the hatch, let the good times roll. Sure, you drank every night here, but this really did feel special, a joy and undeniable relief that everyone felt with the end of filming. The only thing was that you wish truly everyone was here to celebrate it too - despite not knowing Dave and Ehren that well, they deserved to be here much more than you believed you did. Not to mention Bam and Ryan… you stared into the bubbling liquid in your pint glass as the thought arose. Shit, you really missed them. You haven’t even been gone that long and you missed them. It was great being here with Johnny, Chris and Steve-O, but you couldn’t shake that feeling of an important piece of the puzzle being missing. You raised your glass to your lips and wondered what they were doing right now…?

You should ring Bam...

“Hey, what you staring into space for?” 

You raised your eyebrows in surprise at the tipsy Chris now sitting next to you. Wait, where did everyone else go? Your head darted around, noting how the group had splintered off into different parts of the bar - you must’ve been so wrapped in drinking and thinking that you hadn’t noticed them all go. 

“Huh… don’t know. How long was I out for?”

“Oh, dunno really, I was caught up with some guy. Anyway, you looked like you were thinkin’ too hard so I came over to get us some drinks. Wanna do shots?”

You quirked an embarrassed smile, letting your preoccupations slip out of your head. “Sure, get whatever you want, I’ll pay.”

“Oho! Well if you insist~ ” He giggled coyly, twirling his shoulder-length hair around his finger before turning to the bartender with his order. As he chatted, you lingered on the outline of his profile, the way his nose curved into his lips and other poetic nonsense. You never noticed how cute his nose actually was, it complimented his face nicely. Not that his face really needed complimenting, it was pretty damn great already. Then there was his pretty hair, slightly curly and hanging a little ways past his ears - it was long enough to run your fingers through and catch the knots. It suited him well.

Oh no, the booze was getting you all sappy .

You squinted at your beer for a second, as if to scold it, then quickly decided you didn’t give a shit

“You gonna grow it out?”

“Huh?” Chris asked, tilting his head to the side slightly like a confused puppy as he pushed your shot in front of you. You motioned to his head.

“Your hair, I mean it’s already kinda grown out but, like, gonna grow it out s’more? Get real hippy dippy?”

“Oh… yeah, I was thinking about it.” He seemed caught off guard, shifting on his stool. A little hazy eyed, you nodded, face unreadable.

“...Your hair’s nice, soft. I hope you grow it out. Hippy dippy looks good on you.”

For a moment he just blinked at you, but a grin soon split his cheeks, and if you looked a little closer [or were a little less drunk] you would’ve noticed the splash of red that started to stain across the bridge of his nose. 

“What a charmer! Your hair’s nice, too - really nice, actually. Hope you let me comb through it again.” 

You smiled bashfully, bumped your shot glasses together with a ‘clink’ and knocked back the pair of snakebites. Burning, tinged with the citrus of lime juice, but it felt good going down, and Chris’s warm smile only served to soothe that burn. His eye twinkled mischievously as he watched you set the shot glass back down with a heavy hand.

“Wanna do another?”

The two of you got caught in your own world for god knows how long, chatting about who the fuck cares and getting totally shitfaced. You didn’t remember the last time you felt so light - it’s always so easy with Chris, he’s such a calming presence. At one point in the night you told him he reminded you of a capybara, and he drunkenly laughed and said you reminded him of a deer. You pulled a face and asked him why the hell are you a deer? And he said, “ No it totally makes sense. You’re this pretty, flighty thing but you got antlers and they fuckin’ hurt when you use them. Also, when you get surprised you get this cute wide-eyed look.” There were no further questions, you were busy downing your drink to quell the fuzzy feeling in your chest.

It could’ve been minutes or hours the two of you spent talking, but it couldn’t last forever. You were far gone, but you were with it enough to notice raised voices near down the other end of the bar. You furrowed your eyebrows, ignoring Chris mid sentence as you leaned to the side to look around him and see what the big deal was, only to see Steve-O jabbing his finger at a much larger bloke’s chest. 

“Shit.”

“What?” Chris turned to see what you were looking at. “Ah shit. ”

To Chris’ surprise, Steve-O didn’t even seem to be the aggressor this time - the stranger, clearly wasted off his fucking nut, had a demeanour like a rabid dog, shoulders hunched over and shoving at Steve’s shoulder. Instinctively, your face screwed up in distaste as you watched it unfold, tensions rising when the guy grabbed Steve by the front of his shirt. Like you were on autopilot, you got up from your stool and marched over, ignorant to Chris’ slurred questions and your unsteady feet.

You knew damn well Steve-O can take care of himself, but to be entirely honest, this wasn’t for him. You were pissed in both senses of the word, and this was what you wanted to do.

“Mind your fucking business!” You barked, yanking the guy by the back of his shirt to get his attention. He looked over his shoulder, but didn’t pay you much more mind. Alright dick, as if you were gonna get ignored like that. You looped round, wedging yourself in between him and Steve and started pushing at the strangers chest. “Hey asshole fuckin’ look at me! I said mind your fucking business! ”

“The fuck ‘s this?” He asked, shoving you back by the shoulder like he did Steve. “Your fuckin’ bird stickin’ her neck out for you?”

“‘M not a fuckin’ bird shit for brains.”

“The fuck does he mean ‘ bird ’?” Steve asked nobody in particular, because right now your tunnel vision was set on the random man twice your size.

“Stop yapping and get the fuck out of my way, dizzy cunt.” The stranger spat, moving to push past you but you threw your entire weight into his front, managing to knock him back.

“I'll show you a dizzy cunt you fuckin’ bell end!”

You jammed your boot into his shins as hard as you could, and though it knocked you off balance, you steadied yourself in time to catch him wincing. However, it didn’t nearly have the effect you hoped. What followed happened too fast for you to really catch on - one second you were on your feet, the next your head hit the sticky bar floor, hot pain starting to radiate across your face and the taste of metal arising in your mouth as the edges of your vision started to black out. The stranger was ushered out by security - no matter the fact you were the little shit starter, if security sees a big guy knock someone out, they’re gonna be the one getting kicked out. Just before you totally blacked out, some familiar concerned faces crowded around you, and it kinda reminded you of when you wiped out on that ramp the first time you met them all, especially when Knoxville said,

“ Shit, [Y/n] you good? How’s your head?”

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Ugh…Wow… 

Your head really fucking hurts.

You don’t know who you are, where you are, anything really, but you could be sure of that much.

Your head really really fucking hurts.

Well, that and one other thing you noticed - the distant sound of people talking, maybe in a hallway? If you opened your eyes you could probably figure it out, but you didn’t really feel like it right now. In fact, considering the way you felt right now, you didn’t want to move for a million years. Which is saying something, since whatever you were lying on was pretty uncomfortable, starchy and stiff, nothing like your sheets at home. So, you could rule out home. One step closer to solving the mystery. You could hear other sounds nearer to you, things like coughing or hushed conversation; if you put in the effort, you could just about make it out. Something full of jargon, sounded professional. Well that’s just confusing, why would you be asleep somewhere professional? Through the thin skin of your eyelids, you could also tell there was a lot of bright light, light that’d probably hurt when and if you decide to open up. Looking forward to that. Bet that’ll do wonders for your head. Despite your hesitation, you knew you wouldn’t be able to get much more information without using all of your senses, so begrudgingly, you opened your eyes.

“ Jesus! ” You jolted at the unexpected presence of a man in hospital scrubs standing right next to you. The initial spike of your heart rate soon calmed as he looked at you with confusion; your expression was purely disgruntled. “Do you just… hang around like that? Waiting to jumpscare unconscious people?” He didn’t respond, simply picked up a telephone receiver on the bedside table and made a succinct message. You started to look around, eyebrows furrowed and eyes twitchy every time a certain movement made your head hurt. “Why aren’t I at the bar? Why am I in a hospital?”

“Your friends brought you into A&E about two hours ago, apparently you were knocked unconscious in a fight.”

You sucked the air through your teeth, reaching up to massage your throbbing temple.

“Shit, again? Man, I’ve gotta stop doing this, can’t be good for my head…”

“Not the first time then?”

“Well, first time getting my shit kicked in by a dude, I think. Unless I just don’t remember.” 

The nurse hummed, he seemed concerned, but ultimately didn’t ask any more questions. He pottered around a bit, checking your blood pressure and heart rate only for it to come back pretty normal, if on the low side. All the while, the painkillers he gave you started to kick in. 

“Hey uh… don’t know your name…”

“Nurse is fine.”

“Impersonal, alright, anyway you said I came here two hours ago? Was I really out that whole time?”

“Actually, when you came in you were conscious, but you fell asleep in the waiting room, and that was a concern due to the possibility of a brain injury.”

At least you weren’t knocked out for that whole time… you started to pick at your hospital wristband, noticing the dried blood stains on your shirt as you looked down. The wristband was kinda cool the more you looked at it, maybe you could laminate it and keep it as a bracelet or something… then when you craned your head up again, you were alone. Huh, no goodbye? Probably a pretty busy guy if he’s working A&E, you didn’t mind hanging out on your own for a bit; in fact, you could probably do with some solitude.

Well too bad, you weren’t getting any.

“Found ‘er.”

Following the familiar gravelly voice came Steve-O’s head ducking through the hospital room doorway. 

“Oh, hey. Did they not tell you where I was?”

“Didn’t even let us follow you, dude.” Steve-O complained, taking a seat next to the hospital bed. “Fuckin’ weak, dunno why they rushed you off like that.”

“Probably ‘cuz of my bad brains.” You flicked your own forehead for emphasis, but just caused a twinge of pain in the process. Steve-O shrugged, leaning his arms on his thighs so he was a bit closer to you.

“You’re fine, bet you’ve gotten worse.” He trailed off for a second, staring at his shoes then back at you. “Why’d you get in between us like that?”

“Eh, don’t know. Had a lot to drink, wanted to piss somebody off… didn’t think he’d actually take a swing though.”

“All bark, huh?”

“No way I have bite, kicked the guy in the fuckin’ shins. He was being an ass anyway, deserved it.”

Steve-O smiled, not the impish one you’re used to but something softer. “...Thanks. That was pretty cool of you.”

You stalled for a second, but settled for mirroring his smile. “Don’t mention it.”

“ [Y/n]!”

Enter, Johnny and Chris. Chris wasted no time coming right up to your bedside. “Dude, did he scramble your brains?”

“Yeah, don’t even remember your name, Chris.”

Chris snickered, but he seemed preoccupied by something. “I, uh… I feel kinda bad about the whole thing, I should’ve held you back or something. I don’t know why I didn’t, it just–”

“If it makes you feel any better, I literally wouldn’t let you stop me.” You assured, shrugging nonchalantly, and he managed to crack a smile.

“Still, sorry.”

You rolled your eyes and ruffled his hair it might’ve been an excuse to touch his hair again . “You’re too soft for your own good, y’know.”

“Jeez, you’d think they’d at least clean the blood offa ya, you look a mess.” Johnny commented, coming up on the other side of your bed to get a good look at you. He looked around for a second, then reached for the box of tissues he spotted.

“There’s blood ? Seriously? But my nose doesn’t hurt..”

“I think the guy had rings on or something, gave you a gash on your cheek.” Steve-O explained, scratching at his left cheek as if to demonstrate. 

“Eh, don’t worry about it, I gotcha.” Johnny assured, dipping a tissue into a glass of water enough to wet it but not have it break apart; his free hand cupped your cheek, warm and directing so he could keep your head facing him, and with a gentler hand than you thought him able, started to dab at the dried blood on your face. Sure, it still hurt , after sitting on your skin so long he had to scrub at some parts, but it was relaxing nonetheless. He let out little ‘sorry’ s every time you winced or hissed, and all too soon, it was over. Without thinking, your head followed his hand as he released your face, chasing the warmth of his palm, and to your relief he didn’t bother to mention it.

“There, now we’re even.”

“Nurse Knoxville.” You teased, resting your arms in your now folded lap as Steve-O and Chris chuckled.

“He’d be a shit nurse.” Steve-O snarked, followed by Chris.

“Bet he can’t pull off the outfit like I can.”

“Real nurses don’t even wear that skimpy shit, look–” Johnny motioned to the nurse stood in the doorway, staring disapprovingly at the group. “ That’s what they actually wear.”

“You shouldn’t be in here.” Your nurse said bluntly, fully entering the room. The guys all brushed him off.

“Nah, ‘s okay, we know her.” Chris assured, as if that was the issue.

“That doesn’t matter, only immediate family’s allowed. We’re not sure of her condition yet.”

“Aw c’mon , look at her, she’s fine.” Steve-O insisted, but the nurse wasn’t going to be convinced as he started to usher Steve out of the shitty plastic chair he was sat in. 

“Really, I’m fine, we’ve gotta go catch a flight anyway so–”

“I really wouldn’t advise that. We’d like to keep you overnight so we can monitor your condition–” The nurse was interrupted by a beeping in his pocket; he pulled out a pager, took one quick glance, then heaved a heavy sigh. “There’s something I need to tend to… can you hang on for ten minutes?”

You nodded, so he swiftly left. Busy, busy man.

Johnny whistled, playing with his hands as he turned back to you. “You don’t have to give ‘em your insurance info or anything?”

“Nope, free healthcare.”

“Great, let’s get you out of this miserable li’l matchbox.”

You weren’t going to argue, you had shit to do. Lucky they didn’t put you in one of those paper-y hospital gowns because you really didn’t feel like staying longer than you absolutely had to. Once Johnny helped you over the metal railing of the hospital bed and Chris picked up your jacket, you hightailed it out of that A&E room before any nurse could stop you. It was still dark when you made it outside, but clearly nearing daylight, as that deep navy started to lighten to an ultramarine blue. You always liked that stage of the night sky, thought it was so pretty when everything was bathed in that hazy blue glow. The rental car was pulled up in front of the hospital entrance so you were all able to pile in as quickly as possible, then off you went on the way home. 

Flashes of street lights flitted past the car window, and you watched as the cityscapes changed and flowed. A tug at your hospital wristband caught your attention, and you turned to Chris.

“Gonna keep it?”

You hummed and gazed at it again. “...Yeah, looks cool.”

With all your fondness for Chris, you hoped you weren’t sitting next to him on the plane back.

[sets-in-the-city]

Wedding Inspiration: Crafting Your Perfect Day

Introduction

Your wedding day is one of the most significant milestones in your life, and finding the right inspiration is crucial for creating a memorable celebration. In this article, we'll explore various aspects of wedding inspiration, from colors and themes to venue selection, fashion choices, and more.

Colors and Themes

Choosing the Perfect Color Palette

Selecting the right colors sets the tone for your wedding. Explore timeless options or experiment with contemporary color combinations that reflect your style.

Popular Wedding Themes in 2023

Discover the latest trends in wedding themes, from rustic and bohemian to modern and minimalist. Uncover unique ways to express your personality through your chosen theme.

Venue Selection

Indoor vs. Outdoor Venues

Deciding between an indoor or outdoor venue involves considering weather, ambiance, and the overall experience. We'll weigh the pros and cons of each option to help you make an informed decision.

Destination Weddings: Pros and Cons

Dreaming of a destination wedding? Learn about the advantages and challenges of celebrating your special day in a picturesque location.

Bridal Fashion

Trends in Wedding Dresses

Stay ahead of the curve with insights into the latest bridal fashion trends. Whether you prefer classic elegance or contemporary styles, find the perfect dress to complement your vision.

Accessories to Elevate the Look

Explore accessory options that enhance your bridal attire. From veils and headpieces to jewelry and shoes, every detail contributes to your overall look.

Groom's Attire

Modern Trends for Grooms

Grooms deserve to shine too! Discover modern trends in groom's attire and tips for coordinating with the bride's outfit for a harmonious look.

Coordinating with the Bride's Look

Achieving a cohesive look involves thoughtful coordination. Learn how to complement the bride's dress while maintaining individual style.

Invitations and Stationery

Creative Invitation Ideas

Your wedding invitation sets the tone for your big day. Get inspired by creative invitation ideas that capture your personality and the essence of your celebration.

Importance of Coordinated Stationery

Consistency is key. Explore the significance of having coordinated stationery throughout your wedding, from save-the-dates to thank-you cards.

Decor and Flowers

Stylish Decor Elements

Transform your venue with stylish decor elements that align with your chosen theme. From centerpieces to aisle decor, we'll guide you through creating a visually stunning ambiance.

Choosing the Right Flowers for the Season

Seasonal flowers add a touch of nature to your wedding. Discover which blooms are in season and how to incorporate them into your floral arrangements.

Photography and Videography

Capturing Memorable Moments

Your wedding day is filled with precious moments. Learn about the importance of skilled photographers and videographers in capturing and preserving these memories.

Trends in Wedding Photography

Stay up-to-date with the latest trends in wedding photography. From candid shots to artistic compositions, explore options that resonate with your style.

Catering and Cake

Unique Catering Options

Dazzle your guests with unique catering choices that reflect your taste and preferences. Explore innovative menus and catering styles to elevate your dining experience.

Trendy Wedding Cake Designs

The wedding cake is a centerpiece of your reception. Discover trendy cake designs and ideas that not only taste delicious but also add a visual wow factor.

Entertainment

Choosing the Right Entertainment

Entertainment sets the mood for your celebration. Explore options ranging from live bands and DJs to interactive experiences that engage your guests.

Incorporating Personal Touches

Personalize your entertainment choices to reflect your story and shared interests. Create memorable moments that resonate with you and your guests.

Planning and Coordination

Importance of a Well-Planned Wedding

Efficient planning is the backbone of a successful wedding. Learn about the key elements to consider and how a well-thought-out plan ensures a smooth celebration.

Hiring a Wedding Planner vs. DIY Approach

Decide whether hiring a professional wedding planner or taking a DIY approach is the right fit for you. Weigh the benefits and challenges of each option.

Budgeting Tips

Setting a Realistic Budget

Budgeting is a crucial aspect of wedding planning. Get practical tips on setting a realistic budget that aligns with your financial situation and priorities.

Finding Cost-Effective Solutions

Discover cost-effective solutions without compromising on quality. From DIY decor to negotiating vendor contracts, explore ways to make the most of your budget.

Personalizing Your Wedding

Incorporating Personal Touches

Make your wedding uniquely yours by incorporating personal touches. From custom vows to special rituals, infuse your personalities into every aspect of the celebration.

Customizing Vows and Rituals

Explore creative ways to customize your vows and incorporate meaningful rituals that reflect your love story and values.

Overcoming Wedding Planning Stress

Dealing with Common Stressors

Wedding planning can be stressful. Identify common stressors and learn effective strategies for managing and overcoming them to ensure a positive planning experience.

Taking Breaks and Self-Care

Amidst the chaos, don't forget to prioritize self-care. Discover the importance of taking breaks and nurturing your well-being throughout the wedding planning process.

Conclusion

In conclusion, finding wedding inspiration involves a thoughtful exploration of various elements that contribute to your special day. By considering colors, themes, attire and etc.