vinyldoves

[vinyldoves]

Butterfly Fly Away

Butterfly Fly Away - Platonic!Reader x BatBoys

Summary: You’ve been bestfriends with Rhys, Cassian and Azriel since childhood but with the new additions to your Inner Circle, it's starting to feel like you are being replaced. When confronted, your three friends brush off your concerns, leading you to believe it’s time to move on and start a life of your own. But once you’re gone, the three brothers begin to realize just how much they need you in their lives. 

Based on this request.

Warnings: A mix of angst and fluff. 

❀⊱♡⊰❀

Butterfly Fly Away

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You let out a long shaky breath, sitting on the edge of your bed, looking around your now empty room in the Townhouse. You had packed up everything. Your clothes, your trinkets, the parchments full of scribbles from Nyx, the painting Feyre had gifted you of the whole family together. All of it.

Your chest felt hollow. The silence and emptiness was deafening. So many memories were made in this room, down these halls, in this city. The thought of leaving that all behind made your heart ache but the thought of staying here hurt worse. 

You had met Rhysand, Azriel and Cassian during your youth and struck a friendship with them. A friendship that had grown and grown into what felt like an impenetrable bond between the three of you. 

And they had always stressed how much importance you had within the family. The peacemaker, the mediator, the one who could end fights between them before they even began. Your magic was able to read the emotions of others, making you adept at talking others through their own feelings—of helping them understand why they felt the way they did. 

It was really the only thing you were good for. You weren’t a skilled fighter, or strategist, or politician. All weakness you hated considering your family was made of the most powerful fae.

But when it came to matters of the heart? Well, you were an expert. For everyone else anyways, considering yours was currently being torn apart. 

You had been there for each of them during the best and worst of days. Through the war, through Rhysand losing his family, through the forty-nine years without him. The four of you with Mor and Amren included had built a small family together. 

A family that was no longer around because they had all found another. And you had been left with none. 

Slowly but surely they had completely erased your spot in the family with the Archeron sisters. It wasn’t even that you didn’t like the three sisters. Each of them had a special place in your heart. But they changed the dynamic of the group so drastically. 

And you no longer felt like you belonged. 

Mor had felt it too, which was why she was more than happy to be sent to the continent to work on alliances there. Amren had found herself a lover and seemed content with keeping him all to herself. 

But you…you had nothing without them. Or at least, that’s what it felt like. 

You had tried to bring it up with them, had tried to hint that you felt a bit left out and neglected. But they had brushed you off, telling you it was time you “found a life of your own like they had.” You thought you did have a life of your own already. Here. But apparently that was not the case. 

You let out another sigh as you stared at the last three things you had to pack. You picked up the first one, a smooth rock—a red creek jasper. You still remembered the day Azriel had given it to you when you both were only eleven. 

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“You can do it, Az!” you shouted. 

You were standing underneath a very large boulder, holding a hand over your eyes as the sun shone down on you and Rhys. Cassian and Azriel were both on top of the boulder, wings spread wide as Cassian tried to direct Azriel on how to fly. 

Azriel’s face was nearly white and you could tell even from where you were standing that his hands were shaking. You took a few steps closer to the rock, holding your little arms out. 

“I’ll catch you if you fall,” you yelled up to him. “I promise!”

It was at that moment that Cassian decided he was over waiting for Azriel to jump and pushed the boy off the rock instead. Azriel shrieked, a sound he had never made before, and frantically tried to pump his wings but it was no use. He crashed right into you, sending you both sprawling on the ground.

“Y/n,” he gasped, rolling off of you. “Are you okay?” 

His eyes were wide with both shock and concern. They only widen more when you burst out laughing, clutching your stomach. It hurt, a lot. You were both eleven but Azriel was already bigger than you. 

“I told you I’d catch you!” The look on his normally unreadable face sent you into another fit of giggles. 

Later that day, Azriel had gone to the nearby creek and dug around for hours looking for the perfect rock to give you, knowing you liked collecting the cool ones you found. He had apologized numerous times, even though it had been Cassian’s fault, but he still felt guilty. He finally stumbled on a tiny, smooth rock that was a mixture of dark orange and red swirls.

When he came home that night and offered it to you as another apology, Cassian and Rhys had laughed themselves nearly sick but you had just smiled at the shy boy and squeezed the rock in your hand, holding against your chest. 

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It was the first gift Azriel had given you and it had stayed with you all these years. 

You wrapped it back in the silk handkerchief you kept it in and placed it in your bag. 

Your eyes moved to the next item. A scarf made from various scraps of fabric. Definitely not fashionable, but it had been a special gift from Rhysand.

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“Why do you carry that old blanket around with you still?” The thirteen year-old Rhys was peering at the dirty blanket in your hand with a sneer. “We’re not babies anymore, y/n. You should get rid of it.” 

You pulled the blanket closer to you—a blanket made up of random scraps of fabric, the only thing your mother could afford at the time. It was ratty, falling apart at the seams, but it was special to you. 

“It’s the only thing I have left of her,” you said, quietly, blinking away the tears that started forming in your eyes. 

Your mother had passed away years ago and your father, who had never loved her in the first place, had tossed out all her belongings. You had only managed to get your hands on the blanket before it was taken away.   

Rhys had said nothing else about it until winter solstice came around that year. You hadn’t noticed that he had snuck into your room and taken the blanket—bringing it to his mother to make into something a little better for you to carry around with you. 

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He had given you the scarf that night and every single snowfall, it was the first one you pulled out. You packed it away with a heavy heart. You were moving to the Day Court, something you had already discussed with the Inner Circle, and you would hardly have use for it there. 

The last item sat on your dresser, a white, stuffed pegasus toy—a gift from Cassian. 

❀⊱♡⊰❀

A knock sounded on your door but you ignored it, rolling over in your bed and wiping your tears.

Another knock.

“Y/n! Open up! I know you’re in there,” Cassian shouted through the door.

“Go away, Cass,” you managed to croak out through your tears. “I’m not in the mood.”

There was a pause before he shouted through the door again.

“What’s wrong, y/n? I can tell you’re crying!”

“Nothing, just go away!”

The door burst open and you shot up in your bed, cursing at yourself for not making sure it was locked. Cassian walked into your room, his eyes widening as he took in your appearance. 

“Y/n?” He asked, quietly, shutting the door behind him. “Why are you crying? What happened?”

A tiny sob broke through your lips and Cassian was at your side instantly, wrapping an arm around you. You both were only sixteen, but Cassian was already starting to look more like a male than a boy with how big he was getting. 

“Cyrus b-broke up with me,” you choked out. 

“Oh thank the gods!”

You glared up at Cassian, shoving him away from you.

“Get out if you’re going to be like that.”

He held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry, y/n, I just mean… Well, we all think you’re too good for him, you know. He’s an asshole.”

More tears poured from your eyes and Cassian pulled you to his chest again. “I am really sorry, y/n. I know how much you liked him.”

Cassian had stayed with you that night, holding you until you cried yourself to sleep. When you woke up the next day, a tiny stuffed Pegasus was waiting on your nightstand with a note attached to it.

‘I hope this little guy helps you feel better. But if you need to let off some steam, come find me in the training ring—Cassian.’

❀⊱♡⊰❀

You hugged the pegasus to your chest for a moment before dropping it into your bag with the last of your stuff. 

You were supposed to leave in the morning after a goodbye breakfast with the whole family, but the trip down memory lane had you feeling too upset.

You didn’t know if you could handle seeing them all, especially when they seemed to have no qualms about you leaving. 

Cassian didn’t need a secondary sparring partner to Azriel anymore now that he had Nesta. Rhys didn’t need help reading through correspondence now that he had Feyre. And those serene walks through the woods with Azriel? Well, those went to Elain now. 

You pulled out the copy of keys you had for the Townhouse and River House and set them down on the dresser in the room. You took one last look around, your heart breaking in your chest, before finally winnowing away.

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“This alliance with Vallahan could go two ways,” Rhys said, stroking his jaw. “They fight with us against Koschei and end this whole thing before it becomes a full blown war. Or they’re faking their support and have already sided with Koschei.”

“If they are, the results of that will be devastating,” Mor said with a frown. “Our armies are still so depleted and even with the help of the other courts minus Autumn, Koschei has triple our numbers if Vallahan has already sided with him.” 

Cassian let out a low whistle as he stared over the battle plans. “We’d be fucked. Utterly fucked.”

“We can’t win in that scenario,” Azriel piped up from next to Cassian.

“We can’t win without their help either,” Feyre said. “This decision is everything. Everything relies on this decision. You really couldn’t get a read on them, Mor?” 

Mor shook her head. “They were careful with their wording and vague. They were certainly speaking the truth, but it meant little.”

“Their mental defenses were too strong to get through without force. But if they are being honest and I break into their minds, we might as well kiss the alliance goodbye,” Rhys sighed. “If only there was another way to get a read on them. I hate going into this blind with only our own faith.” 

The room was silent as they all pondered what this meant for the battle against Koschei. 

“There is…someone who could help.”

Everyone’s head whipped towards Cassian. Rhysand waved a hand at him to continue. Cassian swallowed audibly.

“Y/n.”

That name had everyone sitting up straight. Rhysand raised an eyebrow at him, not understanding. Not until it clicked in his head.

“She can read people’s emotions,” he breathed out. “I… I never thought about her using it this way. I just thought it was good for—well, you know.”

“Just meddling?”

Rhys nodded, feeling a bit ashamed. The room went quiet again, everyone soaking in what Cassian was suggesting.

“Would she even help? You all basically ran her out of this court,” Mor huffed, causing tensions to rise. 

“Not this again,” Cassian groaned.

Mor stood from her seat, bristling at Cassian’s words. “I’m being serious. She has been your guys’ friend since you were kids. And you all left her in the dust even after she tried to tell you guys how she felt!”

When Mor had returned from the continent and learned of you leaving the court, she had been beyond angry at the three males for their treatment of you. She had written you several letters apologizing and you had welcomed her back into your life. 

But she was the only one you still talked to. 

The room was dead quiet. Each of the three males shared looks of guilt and embarrassment because Mor was right. They had completely taken you for granted and cast you aside once the sisters started having bigger roles in their life. And they had let you go without even trying to convince you to stay. 

“I miss her.”

Azriel’s voice was so quiet, like he hadn’t even meant to say those words out loud. 

Cassian let out a long sigh. “I miss her too.”

Mor glanced around at the other members of the Inner Circle before gesturing towards the door. “I think the boys need to discuss this amongst themselves.” 

Once the door shut behind Feyre, Rhys leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk. “I hadn’t realized how much of an impact she had. Things haven’t felt right here without her.” 

“No, they haven’t,” Cassian agreed. “We really did kind of… forget about her. Not intentionally but still.” 

“Have you talked to her?” Azriel asked, looking at his High Lord.

“Have you?”

Azriel looked away in answer, feeling a bit of guilt. 

“Do you think she’s still in the Day Court?” Cassian asked. 

Rhys nodded. “Yes, Helion is quite fond of her it seems.” 

Cassian snickered while a ghost of a grin crossed Azriel’s face. It wasn’t hard to imagine you in Day. You had always been a beacon of light for the group and they knew how easily you made friends wherever you went. It came naturally to you as an empath. 

“Do you think…” Cassian trailed off, sounding a bit insecure. “Do you think she’d come home? If we asked?” 

“She didn’t even say goodbye before she left,” Azriel murmured. 

“We can try but I think we should be honest with her about our feelings,” Rhys said. “I’d hate for her to think we’re just asking her back so she can help us with this.” 

“She’s going to know how we’re feeling anyways,” Cassian laughed. “Remember?”

Rhys grinned, thinking of all the times you had caught them in blatant lies because of your abilities, all the times you meddled with their love lives and friendships too. 

There really was a you-shaped hole in the group now. The three shared a look of guilt. It was a shame it took this long for them to realize it. 

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Three knocks against the door of your small cottage woke you up. You groaned, sitting up and blinking the sleep from your eyes. You had gone to one of Helion’s illustrious parties last night and had not been expecting to be woken up this early.

You shrugged on a silk robe over your nightgown and made your way to your front door.

Your eyes widened in shock as soon as you opened it, staring at the three males you hadn’t seen in a little over a year. You stepped aside, wordlessly, letting them into your new home. The distance had not made the bond between the four of you shrink, even after all this time, it seemed.

They greeted you in their own ways. Azriel with a soft smile, Cassian with a booming hello and hug, and Rhys was a feline grin and pat on the shoulder. You strode to the kitchen as they took a seat in your living room.

“I need coffee,” you announced. “Anyone else?”

“Long night?” Cassian teased.

“Don’t even ask,” you joked back, pulling out four mugs as they all said yes to your offer.

It was silent while the coffee brewed, and their emotions were all over the place. Nervousness, guilt, hope and regret. Your eyebrows furrowed as you grabbed the mugs and set them on the coffee table, taking a seat on an armchair.

“No offense,” you started. “But why are you guys here? I haven’t spoken to any of you in over a year.”

“That’s kind of what we’re here about,” Rhys replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

You raised an eyebrow at them, taking a sip of your coffee.

“I’ll get straight to the point,” he continued. “We…We want you to come home.”

You nearly spit your coffee out. That was not what you were expecting him to say. After all, they didn’t seem very upset when you told them you were leaving the Night Court in the first place.

“Why?” you managed to choke out.

“I’ll be honest. We’re dealing with a situation back home and it made us realize how much of an importance you played, not just in our court but in our lives. We miss you, y/n. We regret how we treated you the past few years.”

“We all just got so caught up in our own problems, we didn’t even realize how much we were neglecting you,” Cassian added with a sincere frown. “You were such a constant in our lives and I guess we sort of took that for granted, assuming you’d always be there.”

“I tried to tell you how I felt,” you murmured, hiding half your face behind your coffee mug.

“I’m sorry for brushing you off,” Azriel said, quietly. “Truly. A lot was happening and like Cassian said, I just figured once we got through it all, things could resume as normal.”

“So why have none of you written to me in the year I’ve been gone?”

“After you left, Mor kind of chewed us out,” Cassian said, sheepishly. “We all just assumed you were mad at us and left because you needed space. I know it’s not a good excuse but well, you know more than anyone that we’ve never been great at communicating.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. That was the reason you meddled so much. To get them to talk about their feelings, express themselves. It was hard staying quiet when you knew how a person truly felt.

“We miss you and we need you, y/n,” Rhys cut in. “Things haven’t been the same since you left. I’m sorry it took so long for us to realize and I’m sorry for how we treated you. You’re our best friend, our sister. I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

“Me either.” Both Azriel and Cassian interjected.

You thought about it, thought of the year you spent without them. While you had started anew, made new friends, had lovers, you did miss them dearly. It made you realize something about the bond you all shared, about your friendship in general. Life changes and sometimes people get preoccupied with other things but that bond you felt hadn’t shrunk, hadn’t grown any weaker. It was still the same as it had been the day you left.

They would always be your best friends, your brothers by name.

And their feelings were genuine. You of all people would know.

“Please come home,” Cassian begged. “I need you--we all need you.”

This house was not a home without the people you cared about. As much as you loved the Day Court, it wasn’t the same. Not without all the memories tied to it. And perhaps this had just made your friendship with them stronger, made you all realize how much you needed each other despite now having more priorities in your lives. You couldn’t fault them for finding love, for building families.

The three of them were nearly holding their breath with anticipation, waiting for your answer. A smile broke out on your face and their shoulders dropped.

“Okay,” you finally said. “I’ll come home. But I’m keeping this as my vacation house and you all owe me a years’ worth of mooncakes when we get home.”

Laughter filled the tiny cottage as they eagerly agreed to your terms. A new warmth spread in your chest. You were finally going home back to your true family. 

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[vinyldoves]

Burn Baby Burn

part 1

pairing: Cassian x reader

warnings: just a angsty little mess because I just so happen to love the over dramatic girlies with the victim complexes who do reckless shit to get their boyfriends/ex’s attention when they hurt your feelings. sue me.

summary: Cassian’s been busy and you come up with a plan to get his attention back—no matter how toxic your tactics may be

——

“Thinking about heading into the city for lunch, want to come?”

“Can’t,” Cassian bluntly replied, hazel eyes still trained on the paperwork before him—endless reports from the war camps he was supervising, evaluations, incoming recruits and even more paperwork for the ones who’d died in the battle with Hybern. His plate was stretched thin, no time for dates or walks in the garden to admire Elaine’s handiwork. No random kisses and greedy hands sliding down your body for just a few seconds alone in a room or a closet. “I’ve got to get this back to Rhys by the end of the week.”

You nod in understanding, a little gasp sounding when another idea spurs. “Maybe I could just make us something for here? I’ll light a few candles and maybe I can help you get through it quicker?”

He shakes his head, dark hair tied in a messy bun at the back of his head, stray strands falling from its hold to tickle at the backs of his ears and neck. “Another time, sweet girl. I could use the quiet.”

“Oh.” Your disappointment is evident and before Cass would’ve clocked it, would’ve put his papers down with a smile as he leaned back in his chair and beckoned you forward. There would’ve been kissing and compliments and achingly gentle apologies muttered into soft skin as his calloused hands grabbed handfuls of your ass. “Well, I love you.”

Tears prick at your eyes when Cassian doesn’t really say it back, just hums in acknowledgement before you leave the room. Self-doubt settles in by time you round the corner to the sitting room, hands shaking when you reach for the decanter and pour a glass so thick it makes you groan as it goes down. You suck in a sharp breath through your nose, willing away the tears because it was stupid and he was busy and it wasn’t really that big of a deal because he loved you; even if he was too busy to say it—or show it lately.

The glass fills once more, this time you drink it slower, a palm bracing on the counter for support as your sort your thoughts, so consumed in your own embarrassment, your own insecurity and dark questions snapped around your brain like snakes begging for a meal, spewing their venom. You don’t even notice the person sitting on the couch, smutty book lowered to take you in.

You still don’t notice them when you finish the second glass, your hands less shaky but the insecurity never leaves and neither do the tears when your mind wanders once more. You fill the glass a third time before scoffing to yourself and snatching the whole decanter and cradling it to your chest with full intent to bring it back to your room and polish it clean. You’re nearly at the door when you hear a page turn and the yelp that emits is comical, body jumping and hands barely maintaining their grasp on all the glass in your hands. “Mother above—you scared the hell out of me.”

Nesta raised a brow, silently surveilling the liquor, the red eyes and frown lines. “Throwing a party?”

A pity party.

“Something like that.” You shuffle from foot to foot, nose sniffling and embarrassment spreading now that you’ve been caught in such a vulnerable state.

“You alright?”

You debate saying anything, fingers toying with the ridges in the glassware, teeth biting at the soft skin of your inner cheek. “No, not really.” There’s a pause, steely eyes expectant and a pointer finger held her page in place as she closed the book in her lap. “I think—I feel like, maybe, Cassian isn’t as into me as he once was.”

“Why do you think that?”

You let out a sigh, falling into the couch across from her, the liquor sloshing in your glass but nothing spills as you settle into the pillow with your legs crossed. “He’s just been so busy lately and I understand that he’s busy—really, I do.” You take a gulp of your drink, suddenly wishing Elaine was up; she was always baking some tasty new recipe for cookies or frosted cakes, pies with freshly sliced fruit baked inside and a wicker basket crust on top. “But Rhys is really busy too and he’s always got time to pull Ferye into some room to get some.” You finally met her eyes when you confess, nose scrunched in disdain. “It’s been weeks since he’s even touched me.”

“And just breaking up with the idiot isn’t an option?”

“Not the first one, no.”

Nesta sighed, some life finally returning to her skin after consistently eating instead of surviving on wine and stale bread in that apartment she used to hole up in. “Then, the way I see it, your only other option is to show him what he’s missing.”

“How?”

“I don’t know,” She shrugged, opening her book back and settling her eyes at the top of the page. “Get his attention.”

Your gaze goes distant, hands moving mechanically as you finish your drink, mulling her words over before standing up abruptly. You rid yourself of the decanter, the liquor already settling into your system and warming you from the inside out. “Thanks.”

The whole week, you follow her advice to a tee.

Sexy lingerie with lacy thigh highs, underwear and a figure hugging corsets, nothing but fucking heels and all goddamned week—nothing. Not even a single glance.

Your anger builds and you kick things up a notch, resorting to sleeping on the couch, being sure to take many pillows and the main blanket when you leave but when you return the following morning—there’s no sign that Cassian had ever even come home.

Everything reaches its boiling point during a meeting called by the High Lord himself, the Inner Circle tucked around a large table, the lights dim and air a little stuffy with the incense burning. You’re supposed to be listening, Rhysand’s mouth is moving and the others are pitching in, exchanging words but none of them reach your ears, your eyes focused on Cassian on the other side of the table.

He’s calm—casual in the way he pitches ideas, joking about it being a no brainer for him to be picked on a mission if it involved needing to distract someone with their looks. You scoff before you can catch yourself and while everyone else looks confused, Nesta has a growing smirk in the corner of her mouth. “What?”

“Nothing.” It’s not convincing and you don’t bother to acknowledge the fact that everyone was exchanging glances around you, suddenly clued in on the fact that maybe there was trouble in paradise. You suck in a sharp breath, hands crossed before you on the table as you look over at Rhys. “How about you just send me?”

Rhysand raised a brow, back straight and shoulders square as dark hair fell over his forehead. “I hadn’t considered that you’d want to. You don’t even like Eris.”

“No,” You agree, the word drawled out. “But he likes me and that’s kind of really all that matters if you want this to work right? Someone gets in, procures the intel you need and gets out before anyone suspects a thing.”

There’s a pause and only the crackling sound of the fire fills the space before the High Lord murmurs out a surprised, “I suppose there couldn’t be any harm if you’re offering.”

Cassian lets out a noise of disapproval, face stoney and filled with defiance. “There’s plenty harm—are you kidding? There’s no way she’s fit for the job.”

“A better fit than you.” You retort snappily, hands curling into fists at his words; the blatant lack of faith in you sending an uneasy, bubbling sensation in your belly. “I’m practically shaking at the thought of having one males attention for a whole night. In fact, it would be my pleasure to distract him into giving me what I want.” Nesta lets a laugh pass her lips at your words, not bothering to hide her amusement when you stand from your seat. “If we’re done here, I should start looking for a dress now. Something skimpy and fireproof.”

You don’t have to turn back to know you’d won this round—the splitting sound of a chair breaking against the wall was answer enough.

An hour passes, two—three before a knock sounds at your door. “It’s open.”

Mor enters seconds later, a dress draped over her arm and a grim expression on her face. You’d known her history with Eris; guilt twisting for not thinking about her before diving head first into your selfish plan, too caught up in the moment to consider how your words could’ve affected her. “That wasn’t really like you down there.”

You ignore her words. “I’m sorry about what I said—I didn’t. I should’ve taken your feelings into consideration.”

She waves you off, face still a little pale but Mor doesn’t linger on it too long, either too afraid or too tired to rehash old traumas. Instead she points to the dress in her hand, certainly skimpy but quite beautiful. It was warm, all deep reds and rich golds with diamonds that sparkled like embers in a flame when the light caught it. “You should wear it—not quite fireproof but I think it should fit just fine.” Her shoulder bumps yours playful when she passes you, sifting through your shoes and jewelry to pair with it when she drawls out a, “So, what’s the deal with you and Cass?”

Your eyes roll instantly. “Nothing. He’s a grade A prick and I’m over it.”

She raised a brow, glancing at you over her shoulder, taking in your furrowed brow and deep scowl even as your hands traced gently over the dress. “Over it?”

“Over being ignored and shoved to the side. Like seriously, maybe I should join one of those war camps as one of his new recruits. That way he’ll be forced to at least look at me for longer than thirty seconds.” Your anger feels like it becomes a tangible thing, a bubbling ball of molten lava that burned everything it touched and for a moment, Morrigan softened. “You know what, I don’t want to talk about this. I leave in an hour and I could use a bath—and more wine.”

You stomp off to retrieve just that, disappearing into the bathing chamber with the whole bottle when Nesta rested her shoulder in the doorway, that same little smirk in the corner of her mouth when she regarded Mor. “Just when I was beginning to think nothing interesting ever happened around here.”

Part 2 coming soon

[vinyldoves]

the wait // francesco pazzi

request: hello sweetie! i love your writings and im currently so in love with your ‘no reasons to’ serie and your medici’s imagines, and since i’ve recently watched the show and i’m so freaking obsessed with it, i was thinking maybe i could request an imagine (sorry if it’s going to be long lol). basically the reader is from a noble family but her parents died when she was a baby and she was raised by medici’s family growing up with lorenzo, giuliano, bianca and also the pazzi’s siblings……………..

…… also, her and lorenzo fall in love and they have a secret relationship, but she learns soon that lorenzo is gonna marry clarice orsini. and then francesco pazzi, who has always liked her, asks her to marry him. she accepts, mainly to create a stable alliance between the two enemy families. she is reluctant about marrying francesco and of course still in love with lorenzo, that’s why she is hesitant at first with him……… 

francesco on the other side is very gentle and kind, he doesn’t push her to do things she doesn’t want to do (like during their wedding night??) and treats her like a goddess. time after time, she realises that he’s a good person (yeah even though he killed giuliano and did bad things) and maybe she could actually fall in love with him and decide to quit her secret relationship with lorenzo to dedicate herself to francesco. sORRY IF IT’S TOO SPECIFIC UGH. thank you in anticipation! 💗💫💗💫

please don’t plagiarize my work!

word count: 3,376

“You are to be married?”

Lorenzo spins at the sound of your voice, his eyes widening a fraction as they settle upon your own. When your words register within him, a deep frown mares his features and he takes a small step forward, his hand held out in front of him; “Y/N–”

You shake your head, taking a step away from him causing his words to halt. “How could you not tell me?” You ask, your voice considerably softer than it had been before. You feel your emotions peak as the words leave your lips, your shoulders falling with despair as your vision blurs. “This was arranged weeks ago,” you continue, shaking your head. “Your fiance is on her way here and you hadn’t thought to tell me?”

“Y/N,” Lorenzo calls once more, attempting to reach you and this time actually managing to do so. “Please, you have to understand–”

“Understand what?” You argue, your hurt clouding your judgement. You’re upset and angry and you’re taking it out on Lorenzo, with no fault to his own. Yes, he could’ve told you instead of you having to hear it from another, but it wasn’t his choice to get married to this woman; Clarice Orsini. It was for the benefit of his family, you knew that, but still… “That I am suppose to watch you marry and fall in love with another woman?”

“You are the one I love.”

Lorenzo says the words without an ounce of hesitation, closing the small distance that existed between the two of you as he takes your cheeks into his hands, pulling you close. You look up at him with watery eyes, your hands clasping over your own as Lorenzo shakes his head. “Nothing will change that,”

“But what if it does?”

Your question is responded with silence. Lorenzo’s lips part, his eyes widening upon the fear in your voice. He does love you, he knows that. But what you’re afraid of is not entirely impossible. He would like to believe it is, but fate was a funny thing and sometimes you had no control over your own emotions. 

Your heart feels as if it will shatter at Lorenzo’s silence.

“I love you,” Lorenzo repeats, his voice a hushed whisper. Leaning forward, he presses his forward against your own. “Only you.”

At the intimate action, you let your eyes flutter shut, embracing Lorenzo’s touch and his warmth. You know very well that this could be one of the very last times you are able to be with Lorenzo like this, and you bask in it, hoping to never forget the touch of him.

You’re petrified with fear that Lorenzo will fall for this woman, Clarice, and forget all about you. That he will leave you alone with a broken heart. And the worst part is that even he can’t deny it, because he can’t know for certain that your fears won’t happen.

He will be married to Clarice, and even if he continues to see you, the two of you will never be able to be seen in public. Your affair will be kept in the dark, unable to speak of the man you love and of the one who makes you happy. When not hidden behind closed doors, you will have to watch as Lorenzo builds a life with another woman that is not you.

“We can still see each other.”

There are the words. Lorenzo says them in hopes of assuring you, but all they do is break your heart further.

Inhaling sharply, you nod, tightening your grip over his hand. “I know.”

“Nothing will change,” Lorenzo soothes, his voice barely audible. “You are still the woman I desire. The woman I love.”

But for how long?

“And that will never change.”

Yes, it will.

“I love you, Y/N.”

You hesitate only a moment before responding.

“I love you too, Lorenzo. Forever and always.”

But will he?

-

You watch from a far as they hold each other close. 

Lorenzo leans his forehead against her own like he had with you multiple times before, and you’ve never felt as alone as you do in that one moment. His visits are fewer and fewer, more less often as he puts all his focus on his family and wife. You can’t blame him, you would want the same from your own husband, but you cannot help the jealousy that burns within you.

The cup of wine is held in your hand with aggressiveness, that being the only thing containing your anger in that one moment. Those around you flutter around the party with wide smiles and laughs, but you don’t bask in any of their happiness.

You’ve been left behind, just as you assumed you would.

It’s moments like these that you think back to when you were younger. The Medici family had raised you as your own, and you’d considered Giuliano and Bianca like siblings. All except Lorenzo. There had always been more between the two of you, and it was only when you reached the young age of thirteen that the two of you finally realized your feelings for one another.

You’d shared your first kiss in his families vineyard and you’d both walked home with the brightest smiles on your faces.

Of course, you knew that your relationship would be frowned upon. You were considered a Medici along with the others, and most thought of you and Lorenzo as siblings. Possibly, you’d always known that one day your secret relationship with Lorenzo would come to an end. You’d never be allowed to marry and eventually one of you would have to, if not both.

You just hadn’t wanted it to be so soon or sudden.

“They seem to be getting along well.”

You gasp, the sudden presence surprising you as you turn to find Francesco next to you. Before, he appearance at a Medici gathering would’ve surprised you beyond belief, but you remember Giuliano and Lorenzo mentioning that Francesco had been going against his uncle and siding with the Medici as surprising as that sounded.

You remembered Lorenzo speaking about a possible alliance between the two forgotten friends.

“Francesco,” you breathe, setting a hand against your chest in hopes of calming your racing your heart. 

“I’m sorry,” he bows slightly, smiling softly your way. “I did not mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine,” you assure, waving his concern off with a slight shoulder. “I was just a little….”

“Lost in your thoughts?”

Flushing lightly, you nod; “yes.”

“It is a shame though,” Francesco comments after a moment, and you watch as his gaze flickers back over towards Lorenzo and Clarice who have no separated. 

Your eyes widen upon his hidden meaning. “I, uh, I–…”

Francesco chuckles softly, “it’s fine,” he assures with a soft blink of his eyes. “It was pretty obvious to me from a young age that the two of you held feelings for one another. Despite yours and my families difference, I have never and don’t plan on saying anything.”

Letting out a exhale, you nod, unable to stop yourself from glancing in Lorenzo’s direction, feeling your heart ache in response. “Thank you.”

“I only meant,” Francesco continues, shuffling closer to you. You are not oblivious to his actions, watching him with slight bafflement. “I realize it was not his choice, but to let a beautiful and intelligent woman such as yourself go, well, it is a shame.”

Your eyes widen at his words, once again, and your lips part. Francesco, upon your silence, glances back at you, your eyes meeting his and you feel your shoulders fall at the look he sends you. He holds your gaze with such warmth, such sincerity, and the words had left his lips with almost sorrow. 

As Francesco steps toward you, he clasps his hands behind him respectively, lowering his voice further. “But one man’s loss is another’s gain.”

“Francesco…”

“I know our families have differences, Y/N and I know you do not feel for me the way I feel for you,” Francesco explains, his eyes soft. “But I hope you do not decline my offer when I propose it.”

Swallowing thickly, you bite your lip; “and what offer would that be, Francesco?”

“Your hand in marriage.”

You had suspected so, but still, you cannot hide your surprise. Francesco is a Pazzi and you, a Medici. Long ago his uncle, Jacopo, had decided that the two families could not be friends. Lorenzo and Giuliano had been right when he said that an alliance might be possible. And it was not as if Francesco was a strange to you. There was once a time the two of you were close, friends, before he was cruelly ripped away.

An alliance, along with your sister’s, between the Pazzi and the Medici would extremely benefit your family. That you could not deny.

Your eyes flicker towards Lorenzo’s briefly, managing to catch his eyes for the first time that night. The smile on his face falters slightly at the sight of you, especially next to Francesco, and for a moment, you have hopes that not all is lost. But then Clarice glances your way, and you see the anger and hurt in her gaze and you know that it is not possible.

You want to hate Clarice, but you cannot. She truly is a kind woman, and whether you like it or not, Lorenzo is her husband, not yours. There is no point holding onto a dream that will never happen.

When you glance back at Francesco, he holds his hand out towards you, palm up.

With only a moment more of hesitance, you let your hand slip into his own.

“I accept.”

-

The sound of chattering and cheering and music faded to the back of your mind as Francesco lead you into his home by the hand. You hadn’t been in the halls of the Pazzi home since you were a child, so despite the awkward silence that filled the air between you and your newly-appointed husband, you let your eyes wander across the detailing and designs of the home.

The home that was now your own.

While Francesco remain silent and you find yourself completely unsure of what to say, you still find yourself oddly at ease. The silence is odd, but Francesco holds you hand with such gentleness, as if he’s afraid the lightest touch will hurt you, and even he seems a little tense. A little tense.

This is new and different territory for the both of you. You are both still testing the waters and trying to figure out what it is your life is now.

Not to mention, you find yourself nervous about what will follow in moments to come. Conceiving your marriage the night of your wedding is a practiced tradition, but you have never thought of or looked at anyone in that was other than Lorenzo. There has never been another man other than Lorenzo, and especially not Francesco because you’ve never thought of him as more than a friend. 

But before you know it, Francesco is opening the door to his room, his hand slipping from your own as you step past him. It feels odd, to be stood in his room in light of what is expected to happen and you take your time looking around, fully aware that Francesco’s gaze remains on you, gauging your actions. 

His room is nice, if a little plain. You can’t imagine your life being that bad other than a little tense and hesitant.

You can still envision Lorenzo, at yours and Francescos wedding, watching you intently. Clarice was by his side, the two looking as happy together as ever and yet, he had the audacity to watch you like a hawk as you shared your vows with the man behind you. 

The sound of the door shutting is what pulls you from your thoughts. It causes you to jump slightly, your shoulders tensing for a moment before easing, turning your head over your shoulder to find Francesco’s eyes still intently on you. It is not intimidating or even uncomfortable. He simply just watches you and stares at you with that look in his eyes that you somehow never managed to catch when you were younger. 

Francesco was very open about his feelings towards you. He made it clear that while he has liked and possibly even loved you for a long time, since you were children, he does not expect you to ever feel the same. He is content with you never returning his feelings, which strikes you as both odd but kind nonetheless.

When your eyes meet his own, the light brown in his irises, you feel your shoulders tense. Slowly, you raise your hands, moving them to the ties of your wedding dress and beginning to pull on the ties gently and somewhat hesitantly, thus untying them. Your eyes lower from Francesco’s, moving to the ground as you silently prepare yourself for what is to come.

Francesco surprises you by setting his hands on your own, halting your movements.

You glance up at him with bafflement, your brows furrowing: “Francesco?” “We don’t—…” His words halt, his face twisting as if he struggles to find the right words to say. With a sigh, Francesco shakes his head. “We don’t have to.” He knows you know what he means.

“But—well, I assumed that because it’s our wedding night—“

“I don’t want our first time to be of obligation,” Francesco explains, his words surprising you. Your eyes widen, lips parting with bafflement as Francesco smiles softly down at you. “I want you to want this before we ever conceive our marriage. And as far as I’m concerned, we already have.”

You pause, and Francesco seems to understand the look in your eyes. “And if you never want to, then we never will.”

It is not only the rarity of his words that take you by surprise. It is a large portion, yes. Most men would not care for your feelings and simply force you if you were unwilling. Whilst Francesco makes it clear that even if you never want to be with him in that way, he will never force you nor will it ever change the way he feels about you or your marriage. 

But his words also cause your heart to flutter — a feeling you cannot explain. Your heart wells and your cheeks warm and you’ve never felt this way or experienced this feeling with anyone but Lorenzo that it stuns you. Even more so, because that feeling, the one you’re experiencing, it’s even stronger now than it’s ever been with Lorenzo. 

“I will wait for you.”

-

You continued to see Lorenzo behind closed doors.

It weighed on your conscious both because you knew Clarice was aware and because you suspected Francesco was as well. How could he not be? If he’d caught it before, it was obvious he’d catch it now.

It riddled you with guilt and you wondered how much longer you would be able to keep it up with Lorenzo.

It was interesting that the feelings you were afraid that would fade from Lorenzo, were actually fading from you. With each passing moment, the desire to be with Lorenzo faded and lessened. It seemed more like a hassle then anything now. And, yet, it seemed, Lorenzo was ever the same. He seemed unfazed by the toll your relationship placed on those you were married to. Even in a moment like this, at dinner with the entire family, Lorenzo seemed simply uncaring.

Francesco sat by your side, his hand on your knee while the two of you chatted quietly with one another and ate the dinner that had been placed before you. Bianca was telling a story of her childhood that had caught nearly the entire attention of the table, but every once in awhile, you would lean to the side and tell Francesco the bits of the story that Bianca changed all in the hopes of making him laugh.

It worked, and for the first time in a long time, you felt yourself truly happy. Sat there at the table with Francesco at your side felt right and you were content.

But then, Lorenzo suddenly stood. He sent a small smile to his family and clasped his hands before him. “I’m sorry, but there is some business I must attend to,” he explains with haste, and you do not miss the look he sends you.

“During dinner?” His mother questions, a deep drowning marring her features. “It cannot be ignored.”

With that, Lorenzo is off. He sends one more look your way before stepping past the door and as you gaze down at your lap, where Francesco’s hand resides on your knee, you know he had also noticed Lorenzo’s look and the hidden meaning beneath it as well.

For a moment, you hesitate. In truth, you did not want to go, but it will only cause more trouble later if you do not.

Making up your mind, you stand up, excusing yourself hastily and ignoring the glare Clarice sends your way and the way Francesco’s eyes follow you out of the room as you pick up the speed in your step.

Lorenzo had not gone too far off, and suddenly, you find yourself enveloped in his arms with his lips pressed against your own. And for a moment, you nearly return the action. You nearly press your lips against Lorenzo’s and fall back into the trap of your youth. But then, and you can’t rightly explain it, Francesco appears in your mind, even if only a second, and you are pushing away. Panting, you press the palms of your hands firmly against Lorenzo’s chest, keeping a safe distance between you.

“Y/N?” He whispers your name with an air of bewilderment, hands still on your waist with urgency.

Avoiding his eyes, you shake your head: “I can’t do this anymore.”

“What?” Lorenzo’s voice pitches slightly, shaking his head. “Y/N—“

“You’re married,” you interrupt, finally meeting his gaze. “To a wonderful woman. You are so incredibly lucky to have Clarice by your side and you don’t even realize it.”

“But,” Lorenzo’s hand falls on your cheek, cupping it. “I love you. You’re the woman I want to be with.”

“She’s better for you than I ever could’ve been,” you whisper, smiling softly. When Lorenzo parts his lips to argue, you let your hand fall on his cheek, shaking your head. “And I’m married,” you add, a genuine bright smile falling on your lips when you think of Francesco. “And I can’t keep doing this to him.”

Lorenzo just remains silent, stunned.

“I love you,” you whisper, nodding your head as you keep your gaze steady on Lorenzo. “Forever and always. But… just not in the way I did. Not anymore.” Feelings fade. You’d feared Lorenzo’s would, but in hindsight, it had been your own.

“I’m sorry.”

You turn without another word.

- When you returned to dinner, Francesco was no longer there. Upon questioning, you’d learned, from Clarice with barely concealed snide in your voice, one you couldn’t necessarily blame her for, that he’d left shortly after you had.

That’s all it took for you to hastily leave. You excused yourself, letting the door fall shut behind you and mentally hoped that Lorenzo would salvage what little was left with his marriage with Clarice as you went to do the same.

Francesco was in your shared room, as you expected.

You’d barged in suddenly, but the moment your eyes landed on his back, stood adjacent to you, youd halted. The door shut softly behind you, the words you’d been mentally waiting and preparing yourself to say caught in your throat as Francesco’s hunched back regarded you.

“Francesco…”

“I have never gotten angry,” his words take you by surprise. Your eyes widening as he finally turns to face you, lips curved downward in a deep frown. “Never raised my voice or hand toward you. But I don’t know how much more of this I can handle. You sneak off with him, while I watch, when I am your husband. And I love you, that’s why I never say anything. Because I want you to be happy but—“

“I broke it off with him.” The words spill from your lips without thought. You cannot stop yourself after his own, desperate for him to understand that things were different. That he was wrong. 

Your words surprise Francesco, his lips parting.

Taking a step forward, you swallow nervously. “I can’t excuse my actions nor do I expect you to forgive me for how I’ve treated you, but, Francesco, I am happy. With you. Not Lorenzo or anyone else. You make me happy.”

As silence follows your words, you continue to close the distance between you and Francesco. While he stares down at you in disbelief you take his hands in your own, squeezing them as you meet his gaze. “I want to be with you,” you continue, your voice nothing more than a hushed whisper. “I want to be your wife.”

Francesco hesitates a moment before asking; “you mean?” You nod, smiling; “I’m ready.”

Francesco is the first one to instigate it. The moment the words leaves your lips, he doesn’t hesitate pressing your own against them. As if he’s been with years to do this and be like this with you. His arms bound around your waist. He pulls you close against his, your body moulding and curling against his own as your hands run and delve themselves through his curly hair.

Your eyes fall shut with ease, a smile curling on your lips against his, your bodies barely inches apart.

And when the two of you pull away, breathless, Francesco has a smile on his face as he leans his forehead against your own. “This is all I’ve ever wanted.”

You raise your hand, brushing strands of curled hair out of his eyes as you smile endearingly up at him.

“Thank you for waiting.”

-

let me know what you thought? remember, reblogging always helps!

[vinyldoves]

Ava: Alex left his multi billion company for me.

Jules: Josh begged me for my forgiveness for days.

Stella: Christian wrote a letter every day we were apart.

Vivian: Dante knelt in the middle of the park and apologized.

Alessandra: *aggressively taking notes*

[vinyldoves]

OPHELIA (details)

But long it could not be Till that her garments, heavy with their drink, Pull’d the poor wretch from her melodious lay To muddy death.

[vinyldoves]

Y/N: So. I’m in love with Gally.

Newt: Gally?

Frypan: Our Gally?

Y/N: Uhhh, yes? Thoughts…?

Frypan: And prayers, she-bean, holy shit.

[vinyldoves]

Requests <3

asks are open :)

#imagines #oneshots #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone #grishaverse imagine #grishaverse #nikolai lantsov x reader #azriel x reader

[vinyldoves]

WAITING ROOM

Prologue

The beginning of an incoming Cassian x reader series featuring a throne of glass and Actor cross over, enjoy <3

---------------------------------------------------------

Know it's for the better 

She was falling.

Slipping through the cracks of dimensions as her hand gripped that of her older sisters.

2 nameless girls called to pay the price trying desperately to find their way back home; guided only by the wyrdmarks etched onto Aelin’s back, calling her to Rowan. Her mate. Beth tried not to think about the sheer impossibility of their actions as they free fell. Tried to only think of her mothers voice and the soft, tight feel of her sisters palm. The sister she has thought was lost forever until two years ago. Be brave, wildheart.

Be brave.

They crested a particularly beautiful world. Falling too fast as three powerful mountains taller than those of Terrasen rose up to meet them. There was a fae man stood with his pregnant mate. Fae, but not their people. This was not home. Despite the friendly shield he sent their way to slow them down. Despite the beautiful stars scattered around them. She loosed a gasp at that, the sheer glow and life they possessed.

She stopped looking at Aelin. She Couldn't draw her eyes away from the nights glory until it was too late. Because she was still falling, but there was no palm this time, no defiance of gravity. 

She was falling to the ground, to those mountains and the forest cresting them. She let loose a scream just before she lost sight of her sister and hit this new world. Lost sight of home.

Wildheart 

Wildheart 

Wildheart.

You're lost, darling. You never made it home.

----------------------------------

Part one coming soon...

#imagines #oneshots #azriel x reader fluff #inner circle #rhys acotar #feyre archeron #rhysand acotar #feyre acotar #cassian #acotar #cassian acotar #acosf #a court of mist and fury #a court of thorns and roses #cassian x reader #cassian x y/n #cassian x you #azriel x reader #aelin galathynius #rowan x aelin #aelin ashryver galathynius #throne of glass #kingdom of ash #throne of glass imagine #throne of glass x reader #fenrys moonbeam #fenrys x reader #acotar x reader #acotar theory #throne of glass theories

[vinyldoves]

AU: You have a daughter with Nikolai Lantsov secretly

(Inspired by Anna Akhmatova’s poem “The Grey Eyed King“)

🎵 Florence + The Machine — Only It For A Night

🎵 Florence + The Machine — No Light, No Light

You are a Heartrender who has a daughter with Nikolai Lantsov secretly; you used to be his mistress for years after the civil war in Ravka ended. When you got pregnant he gifted you a quiet and secluded dacha where you lived with your daughter Irina and where he visited you every month. But then, due to the pressure of the nobility and rumours about his illegitimacy, Nikolai was made to marry a high-born lady to unify the country.

On the day of their wedding it was the first time when Ira had seen you weeping.

After that you never saw Nikolai again although prayed for him every day and night. You were too afraid to hear about a new heir to be born so since then you never asked your old maiden about the news from the capital.

Later you moved to Novyi Zem to start a completely new life and met a man who tried to replace a father for your daughter. He was the exact opposite of Nikolai and you knew you would never love him; you would never be able to love anyone but Kolya. Your daughter was his little copy and resembled him so much, and all her actions, her laughter, her mischiefs and ideas made you smile but your heart hurt.

Everything seemed to be normal but then one day your now husband told you the news that you had always been scared to hear.

“The revolution happened in Ravka. The King is dead”.

It was the second time when his daughter had seen you weeping.

* * *

Anna Akhmatova “The Grey Eyed King“

Blessings to you, the unbearable pain!

Our fair gray eyed king will no longer reign.

One autumn evening was stuffy and red,

My dear old husband solemnly said:

«Hunters brought him all wrapped up in a cloak,

They found his dead body at the old oak.

Pity the queen. He was so young and gay!..

Just overnight her brown locks turned to gray.»

Then from the mantle he picked up his pipe,

And he departed for work in the night.

I shall wake up my small daughter from sleep,

Stare in her gray eyes and quietly weep.

Out poplars rustle as if they deplore:

«Your gray eyed king is with us no more…»

[vinyldoves]

Secret Santa

Summary: A Good Samaritan helps Y/N and her family around the holidays.

Warnings: Mentions of the death of a parent and the surviving spouse being severely depressed, labor complications, poverty, one swear word

"(Y/N), look at that unicorn! It's so fluffy!!" (Y/N)'s five year old little sister exclaimed while they were grocery shopping, her face lit up with joy. Suddenly, though, that joy disappeared, replaced with the saddest puppy dog eyes that (Y/N) had ever seen. "If I could, I would wish for that for Christmas."

(Y/N) bit her lip as a lump formed in her throat. She wished she could tell little Anna that she could have much, much more than a five dollar stuffed animal from the grocery store, but the fact was that she wouldn't be able to afford to buy her siblings presents for Christmas. Money had always been tight, but after her mom died two years ago from labor complications when her youngest sister, Lily, was born, her dad hadn't been able to provide as well for them, unable to hold down a job due to his grief. The role of primary caregiver fell to (Y/N), and a sixteen year old girl was no substitute for two able and loving parents. They always made ends meet, but living off of tips from her job at the Island Club and money from her occasional extra shifts cleaning Kooks' houses didn't leave enough money for luxuries like presents. And the worst part was that her three kid siblings already knew that, and they couldn't be filled with wonder and joy like others around Christmas, but it would also be cruel of her to fill them with false hope that they would wake up to presents under a tree.

(Y/N) simply squeezed Anna's hand when she had recovered herself and moved to the check out line to see how far their food stamps would stretch this month. Little did she know that someone had heard their conversation.

~

(Y/N) was opening up her locker in the staff room at the Club when an envelope fell out. It didn't have anything written on it, but when she opened it, it was full of cash, five hundred dollars to be exact. (Y/N) almost screamed and her eyes welled up with tears of joy. Sitting inside her locker was also the unicorn that Anna had been admiring so much the other day. It had a little bow tied around its neck.

(Y/N) couldn't believe what was happening. Who was this Secret Santa that had chosen to help her? She couldn't remember anyone being around them at the store. This was too nice for a complete stranger to do, but she couldn't be more grateful for that kind hearted person, whoever they were. She could pay the bills for this month and next with this and the money she had already earned, possibly leaving some extra for a couple small gifts for the kids. She bit on her bottom lip while imagining the possibilities.

She had an extra spring in her step while serving the Club members in her section. She didn't even let Rafe Cameron's taunts get to her when he came in with Topper and Kelce. She also didn't notice that the one Kook boy seemed to be watching her intently.

~

The next week saw (Y/N) plotting how to surprise her siblings. She knew Anna liked everything unicorns, so she thought to give her the stuffed animal, of course, and a journal she could draw in. Her brother, Cole, had been wanting a baseball glove for ages, and Lily would be content with anything soft or fluffy. She figured she would have just enough just as somebody knocked on the beaten up front door.

"Hey, (Y/N), it's Pope! I have a delivery for you." (Y/N)'s eyebrows scrunched in confusion. She hadn't ordered anything from Pope's dad, Heyward. She opened the door to find Pope's arms completely laiden with groceries, and she saw a cooked ham and a box from a specialty bakery on the mainland that she knew to be amazing, and expensive, behind him.

"Pope, where did these all come from? I didn't order them," (Y/N) gasped as she ran to help Pope with the bags. He just shrugged and hid a smile - if anyone deserved to be rewarded for all her selflessness, it was (Y/N).

"The note didn't say, and they paid in all cash," Pope stated, confirming her suspicions that this was also the work of her mysterious Secret Santa, and she told Pope about the first gift that was left.

"Who do you think it could be? I don't have any relatives around here and they seemed to know exactly what we needed, so it must be someone I know," (Y/N) explained.

Pope shrugged again. "Maybe you have a secret admirer."

(Y/N) scoffed, "Yeah, right, Pope. Who with this kind of money would admire me? A Kook?" (Y/N) laughed, trying to imagine someone like Rafe Cameron liking her.

Pope didn't seem to find the possibility so laughable. He had noticed one Kook in particular that seemed to always be caught staring at her when he thought nobody was looking. "Well, whoever it is, you deserve it," Pope stated. "I wish I could stay, but I have more deliveries to make. I'll see you."

"See you, Pope, thank you for bringing these."

"No problem, (Y/N). Hope you can figure out your Kooky secret admirer!" Pope smirked.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. "It's probably some charity, Pope! You're incorrigible," she yelled after him, but he just gave her a shit-eating grin before turning the corner. She rolled her eyes again before going back into the house to unpack all of those groceries.

~

The next gift came on Christmas Eve. She had taken the kids to the town square to see the Christmas tree and all of the pretty lights. She came back to a back porch full of wrapped presents. They were clearly marked with who they were for, and she made sure that the kids didn't go back there so she could surprise them with gifts from Santa along with the ones she bought.

She also tried to analyze the handwriting, and she thought it looked familiar but she couldn't quite place it. After the kids were put to bed, she quietly moved the presents under their makeshift Christmas tree - ie. the vase full of pretty weeds she and Lily had picked the other day with a bow tied around them. Once that was done she went to climb into bed herself, for once excited for Christmas morning.

~

(Y/N) woke up to squeals of delight, then three pairs of feet pounding down the hallway to her door. The next thing she knew two small bodies were hugging her, with a third grabbing onto her ankles as she couldn't climb onto the bed.

"Santa came! Santa came! He brought us presents!" Her siblings shouted as they tugged her to the living room to see the presents she had placed there last night.

"He sure did! Let's open them!" (Y/N) exclaimed, taking Lily onto her lap so she could help her open her presents. Each child was overjoyed with their gifts, and they spent the rest of the day until they went to John B's house to cook the ham and celebrate with the Pogues playing with them.

~

It was as the small family trudged wearily back to their house that the gift giver was finally unveiled. (Y/N) looked up from Lily's sleeping form in her arms to see a frosted-tipped head bending over their doorknob, apparently trying to hang something from it, and she realized that she knew their handwriting from the many credit card slips they had signed at the Club. She stopped dead in her tracks, unbelieving that Pope had been right about a Kook being the Secret Santa. For it was none other than Topper Thornton on her porch, caught red handed doing the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her.

He turned around at the sound of laughter from Cole and Anna, and both he and (Y/N) could only stare at each other for a while, until even the kids noticed the awkwardness and slipped inside to play with their new toys. (Y/N) still held little Lily.

"So, it's been you this whole time." Her mouth hung open slightly. He looked down, his cheeks burning bright red, and he nodded softly. She smiled the most angelic, beatific smile Topper had ever seen. "How can I ever thank you?"

That made his head snap up sharply. "That is not why I did all this. I didn't even want to get caught; I just wanted you and your family to have a nice Christmas." His eyes burned with intense sincerity, pleading for her to understand.

She soflty walked up to him and teased, "Beings as your plan went awry, I'd like to thank you, so you have to accept it."

He nodded and told her she was welcome. Then, he quickly shoved the box he had been trying to hang on the doorknob into her hands. "This is for you. You should have something special too, not just the kids." If it was possible, he blushed even harder as she opened up the box to reveal a simple yet elegant gold and pearl necklace that was obviously very expensive. She gasped and looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Topper, you really shouldn't have," she exclaimed. "It's too much."

"I don't think the same. Not with everything you give to others." Again his eyes felt like they were burning a hole in her soul, until they shifted into a version of the confident Topper she knew when he said, "But if you really feel like you need to repay me, how about we go on a date?"

It was her turn to blush as she shyly nodded, saying, "I would love to, Topper."

[vinyldoves]

USE IT

Shelby sister 

SUMMARY: AT HER LATEST BIRTHDAY, ELSIE REMINISCES AND COMES FACE TO FACE WITH THE ACT OF GROWING UP.

WARNINGS: sombre mood? Other than that I don’t think there are any, message me if you think I should add anything!

Word count: 760

Part of the Elsie Shelby series

Elsie sat silently on the balcony of Arrow house, looking out into the misty night; the sounds of the party, her and Finn’s party falling behind like white noise. Trust Thomas Shelby to host a bloody ball for his youngest siblings' birthdays. 

But she was kind of sick of it. The glitz and glamour. The etiquette. The going up in the world which also somehow meant going down. She didn’t know over half of the people in that room downstairs. Appearance was what they were here for. Reputation and promises of future deals. She wanted Watery Lane back, with all of them living in it. Cramped into the little space and sharing rooms. It wasn’t nice, they would dream of this life. But now they had it? Well, Elsie just wanted her family back together in their old ways instead of being miles away in different homes no longer eating chips on the cut or dancing in the streets on the holidays.

She missed them, and she thinks most of all she dreads growing up. It was all too much too soon, she wished life would slow down a bit.

“Knew I’d find you here eh.” Tommy’s voice cut through the silence as he sat down on the cold concrete next to her, rubbing his hands together and frowning. It was February, and his sister's lips were turning blue. She’d make herself sick at this rate. “It's bloody freezing out here.” 

“It's refreshing.”

“You just don’t want to be inside.”

She decided not to respond, humming out an old gypsy tune into the wind. “You know, I’m graduating soon.”

Her brother nodded his head, “I know.” He said gruffly patting her back a little bit too harshly. He was too used to roughhousing with john. 

She continued on. “And then it's University. Or a job.”

“I know.” Really, Thomas, she wanted to say with a roll of her eyes. 

“You're not getting it.”

He sighed in frustration, pulling a hand over his face, he loved his sister but she wasn't exactly direct was she? He had people to talk to and he was starting to freeze. “What is there to get then eh. Little one?”

“I don’t want to grow up. I want to stay like this forever. And I miss how everything used to be, and everyday is a step further away from that isn’t it?”

Now he was getting it. He felt a tug on his cold heartstrings. He didn’t want her or Finn to grow up either. But they were, and there was nothing any of them could do about it. He sighed and pulled her closer, arm wrapped around her smaller frame as she leant her head on the crook of his neck. “There’s a whole world out there for you to explore El. A whole fucking world you wouldn’t get to see if you stayed this age forever. Thought you wanted to see Paris and America? You’ve had those bloody postcards up on your wall since you could walk.”

Despite everything, Elsie Shelby smiled off into the reminiscent night, “Of Course I do, Tom. I do, I really do it’s just-”

“Just what?”

“I miss us all being together, you know? Eatin’ fish and chips on the cut and playing stupid games in the streets and the party’s on the lane and-”

Her childhood. She missed her childhood, and despite what was waiting for her, what Thomas was excited and terrified for her to see and experience, neither of them could get that time of innocence back. It had been too long and their hands too red and wallets too rich. “I miss it too.” He spoke slowly, catching the flash of surprise on the young woman's features. “But you need to grow up, and you’re right. Maybe this new world isn’t entirely ours but that doesn’t mean you can’t use it, Elsie.” His tone turned stubborn. “And use it you will. Use it to go travelling or to university if you want.”

She said the next part slowly, cautiously, “and if I want to help around more in the family?”

He sucked in a breath, but she could make her own choices, as Poll always said. “Then we can discuss that another time, but for now, you have time to decide what you want. We aren’t rushing anything Els; now go have fun.” He shoved her to the door and back into the warmth of the house, catching her before she turned the corner. “Elsie? We’ll always be here. This family. Don’t matter where you are.”

#the peaky blinders #peaky blinder headcanon #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #arthur shelby #john shelby #polly grey #michael gray #ada shelby #finn shelby #isiah jesus #shelby sister #shelbysisterimagine

[vinyldoves]

MASTERLIST

Enjoy.

SHADOW AND BONE:

ONE STEP AHEAD (Kaz Brekker x reader)

LOVE BIRDS (Kaz Brekker x reader)

JAM SANDWICHES (Nikolai Lantsov x reader) 

BOYS CAN STILL CRY (Aleksander Morozova x reader)

PEAKY BLINDERS:

FLU (Elsie Shelby series)

USE IT (Elsie Shelby series)

VAMPIRE DIARIES:

 BEING THE SALVATORE SISTER WOULD INCLUDE

ACOTAR/THRONE OF GLASS:

WAITING ROOM SERIES: (Cassian x reader)

Prologue 

[vinyldoves]

Would you write a fluff Kaz Brekker one shot where a heist involves someone having to swim in the water and the reader is the best option for it but Kaz tries his hardest for it not be her because he’s in love with her and it combines all his fears (of loving her, of losing her and of the water) but he ultimately gives in to her reasoning/promise she’ll be okay and he’s anxious the whole time and especially when she’s late but it all ends well?

Of course! Sorry for the late reply... for some reason these later messages showed up on my laptop and not my phone which is why I've only just found em :)

[vinyldoves]

ok, wow.... incredible... 😳✨❤️

i just read 'one step ahead' a couple times in a row and... wow, i'm speechless... i really am, it is such an incredible fic, it's captivating and funnand well written and nicely characterized. 💖

you are a very talented writer, thank you for sharing all your hard work with the rest of us. this fandom is lucky to have you! xD ✨❤️

Awh bless you! You just made my day :) sorry for the veryyyyyy late reply (and to anyone else that messaged me) for some reason all these later ones only showed up on my laptop and not my phone (which I'm always on) :)

[vinyldoves]

Flu

Shelby sister

SUMMARY: When Elsie Shelby gets sick, her family decides on some new living arrangements.

WARNINGS: SICK READER (FLU), FLASHBACKS TO OTHER SICKNESSES (VERY MINOR), SWEARING, SOMEONE KICKING A DOOR DOWN. Part of the Elsie Shelby series.

WORD COUNT - 1.5 K

Elsie had always been the so called ‘runt of the litter’ amongst the Shelby siblings, being the youngest child of Rose and Arthur sr. Shelby, the smaller twin born 6 or so minutes after Finn. The girl, all through her life, had a habit of getting sick easier than the rest of them, she was shorter (although Polly just said that she was simply the only one who had gained her mothers genes in height) at 5’2, and she had an affinity for books and learning. All of this dubbed Elsie Shelby a new nickname: ‘little one’. No matter the sixteen year olds age, everyone called her the little one. 

So really, truly, even though she was grown up and hadn’t got fiercely sick in quite a number of years, it should have been of no surprise that she happened to catch the particularly foul case of flu swiping through the Birmingham streets. All the same. It was.

Elsie sighed as she slipped into her old green chair at the table of the betting shop's kitchen. She had painted it green when she was eight, out of annoyance because John kept sitting in ‘her seat’ the girl smiled at the memory - and then winced at the pounding in her head. Like most days, she had a headache. Only this time it wasn’t caused by the insistent yelling of her family. In fact, the house on watery lane that she tended to stay in with Finn since Tommy brought the rest of the family their own sparkly new homes was dead silent. It was a Sunday, the shop wouldn't be open, and therefore no one would come around early to manage it, and fin had left a scrawled note on the counter stating that he had spent the night at Isiah’s, and would probably spend the rest of the day with him. 

Elsie smirked as she thought of John hearing that his little sister had spent a night in watery lane all alone and decided that she would be very excited to tell him.  

She hummed, drifting over to the counter to make herself a cup of tea before bringing her mug and the old battered copy of Alice’s adventures in wonderland into the sitting room, settling down on the old battered sofa. She would see her family at dinner tonight, anyway. Aunt Polls tradition so that the kids wouldn't go ‘completely wayward.” She smiled, and fell into the story.

John hissed into the cold evening air as he knocked on the watery lane home for the third time, complete with a frustrated yell of his sister's name. He was here to pick the girl up and do the duty of taking her to Arrow house, considering neither she or Finn could drive, although the latter seemed to have decided to walk up to the house with Isiah ages ago anyway. “EL!” He banged on the window, hoping he’d see her open the curtain. He cursed, and did what any rational man would do when faced with not being able to get into the house that he most definitely had keys to somewhere: he kicked the door open.

A cold and hungry sort of dread started to claim him as he walked into the house, still calling her name, and when he opened the doors to the kitchen it fully claimed him, and he felt as if, for a moment, he was being strangled. There his sister was, walking slowly to the door, a crease between her brows as she worked to walk to the front, tiring her with every step. Her eyes shot up at John, her face sweaty and tired, eyes glazed over. “I was getting there, Johnny.” She snarked.

How had no one noticed sooner? 

And then something dawned on John Shelby, something frightening and guilty: No one had been at watery lane all day. 

He smiled softly down at her, trying to hide the fear in his eyes and his throat, “hey little one. You feeling alright?”

Elsie simply frowned at her brother, of course she didn’t fucking feel alright. Actually, she felt like she had been run over by a bus. And a double decker one at that, if they were being specific. “No, you idiot.” She mumbled, which made John chuckle slightly. It could be worse, she still had that damn sarcasm that seemed to follow her around everywhere. “I’ll be back in a minute, okay little one? I’ll get you some stuff to help.” 

She nodded in response, and he helped her sit on the sofa in the living room before rushing off. The first thing he did was pick up the phone and call Arrow house. The noise of a maid came through, too loud and happy and he cringed at the octave against his ears, “Yeah, pass me to Tom.” 

“Who is it?” Tommy’s voice echoed through the line, and he waisted no time in replying. Probably not realising how blunt he was actually being. 

“John. Call a doctor out to watery lane now, El’s caught that damn flu, she’s pretty out of it. Put a bloody book down and everything” He joked the last sentence, as if that could relax the rest of the Shelby’s, Tommy only hung up the phone. Forcing John and Elsie to wait.

When Tommy, Finn, Polly and the doctor entered the home an hour or so later, John relaxed ever so slightly. He’d gotten his sister sitting up, giving her a glass of water to keep drinking and a small plain oat biscuit to try and keep down. Her book was placed neatly above the fireplace (previously having been discarded onto the floor at some point) and he sat dabbing her forehead ever so often and talking gently about his day, the antics of his kids. Katy had pushed Adam down the stairs, and it left Elsie falling into a bout of laughter quickly following into a coughing fit. 

“Jesus John,” Polly cursed walking in with the others, “Are you trying to kill her?”

Elsie tried a smile at Polly then, eyes strained and tired as the doctor began to look her over, “He’s jus’ trying to help aunt pol.” She then turned her head to her brothers “Hi boys.” 

Finn instantly ran over, pushing her hair back, “Shit, I’m sorry Ellie, I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Finn.” Thomas cut through the air as he stood leaning on the door frame. “The doctor needs to work, he can’t do that with you bloody hovering can he? John, why the fuck has the door been kicked open?”

A laugh fell out of Elsie’s lips again, leading to another burst of coughs, which led to another one of Thomas Shelby’s very well shared-out glares, “Careful. Little one. You’re making it worse.” She didn’t miss the concern in his eyes, and she mumbled a soft sorry over to him. 

John on the other hand, sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “She was pretty sick when I came in, Tom, I couldn’t get in.”

Polly, sparing a caring glance at her youngest niece, turned a deadpanned look to John. “You have the bloody keys in your car.”

“Well I panicked didn’t I?”

That led to another snort from Elsie, and a quick “Stop humouring her.” From the doctor. First man in Birmingham Elsie had met who wasn’t afraid of the leader of the peaky blinders, she mused. Sending him an approved smirk before settling further down into the cushions of the sofa. 

It was a few minutes later that the doctor stood up, turning to talk to the small fraction of the Shelby/Grey family that had formed in the home. “She’ll need rest, and constant watch. But with the right medication she should make a mend just fine.”

Finn sent a grin to his sister “Hear that little one? You’re on bed rest.” She merely stuck her tongue out, muttering a hoarse “I’m only six minutes younger.” to her twin. They both didn’t notice the look Tommy, John and Polly were sharing until the head of the business spoke up. “She can stay at Arrow house, it’s closer to the doctor and I can make sure she’s under constant watch. There's enough people in the house to do that. I’ll just have to send Charlie to live with John’s lot until she gets better.”

Both twins looked at him, startled. 

“But Ellie-”

“But Finn-”

“No buts.” Their aunt cut through the air crisply. “You’d fall asleep Finn, we can’t exactly expect you to stay awake till she gets better can we?” She then hardened her stare “Or for you to stay in the house.”

Her twin shrunk at that, sparing another apologetic glance to Elsie, who gave him a nod, their way of saying I forgive you, you idiot. 

“So-” Tommy clapped his hands, “Who's going to help me get this one in the car?”

#shelby #arthur shelby #john shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #shelby sister #shelbysisterimagine #peaky fucking blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder headcanon #peaky blinder imagine #peakyblinders #peaky blinders imagine #polly gray #polly grey #isiah jesus #finn shelby

[vinyldoves]

Hey, could you do Nikolai Lantsov x reader, where they are married due arranged marriage but they not close till she finds out that she is pregnant and baby makes them admit they feelings to each other? Sorry for mistakes, English isn’t my native language 😅 Thanks!❤️

Of course I can  :)

[vinyldoves]

My heart 🥺

heyyy there!! could you maybe do a fic with nikolai where the reader is a heartrender and they’ve been happily married and filling Ravka together for a while now, and she finds out that she’s pregnant and tells him, please?

Summary: Y/N feels a little different and Nikolai is over dramatic.

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x heartened fem!Reader

Warning: not edited

Wordcount: 1.4k

A/N: Sorry for the long wait. If you’re still around anon, I hope you enjoy it. 😊

Becoming queen had never been a dream of you. As a little girl you deemed of the fairytale prince to sweep you off your feet, and ride with you on his white steed into dawn. But if someone would’ve told you that you’d marry a blonde fairytale prince and become queen, you wouldn’t have believed them.

And yet it was true.

Ruling Ravka side by side with Nikolai wasn’t easy. You had experience in making hearts race but not ruling. Ravka wasn’t easy, enemies flanked you left and right. And a Grisha tsarina, sitting on the throne, wasn’t necessarily what Ravkans wished to see. However, over the years you managed to win their hearts. Not of everyone, but people knew and loved you for your charity. They loved that their new rulers didn’t shy away of responsibilities and problems. Simply they loved that they could see their tsar and tsarina, not like the previous ones who liked to hide behind walls of gold and parties, not caring what their people had to endure.

When your popularity grew Nikolai simply murmured into your ear: “See? I told you you’d win their hearts the way you won mine.”

The days in Ravka couldn’t be better. You woke up with the love of your life by your side, golden locks tousled, and his cheeky grin exchanged with sleepy loving murmurs. For once you hadn’t to fear enemies attacking your home and so far, there was no drought or famine either. Life in Ravka wasn’t perfect but it was great. Your life couldn’t be better. Sometimes you couldn’t believe that it was all real and not something your mind has spun out of a fairytale.

However, the past few days you felt something off. It was as if you could feel an echo of your heart, ringing through your body. Deep inside there was a second heart, you felt it. But you weren’t sure. It all could be something different. Your heart playing tricks on you. Or maybe it wasn’t even yours?

Maybe you felt something from the outside.

But no, you were sure that this fast, shallow beat came from you.

Your first thought was a baby. After all the first years of your marriage the only thing missing was an heir to the throne to round it all up. Your period missing would be one indicator, but you knew that you couldn’t simply rely on that. The queen’s cycle wasn’t known for its reliability.

How perfect would a little Nikolai be?

In the mornings when you woke up beside him, combing his hair with your fingers and watching him doze you imagined his reaction. How happy he’d be to hear that a new sobachka would’be coming. For days you dreamed of his reaction. Yet you weren’t really sure if your assumptions were true.

As discrete as it was possible for a queen you went to see the best healer in the Little Palace. If you a heartrender could feel it, she as a healer would know for sure, right?

“I’ve been feeling this second heartbeat,” you told her, eyeing her reaction. For some reason sitting in front of a trained and much experienced healer made you insecure. Not insecure of your body or position. But maybe it wasn’t a second heartbeat, maybe it wasn’t your and it was all just your imagination. The strong wish of bearing a child.

She nodded listening to your words, examining your body with her eyes. “I’m not sure what it is but I was thinking … maybe it’s pregnancy?”

The healer nodded again. Brows furrowed she stared intensely at your belly, as if she could see right through it with her eyes. “May I?” She asked and when you nodded, she laid her cold hands on your abdomen.

“Any sign of blood?”

“No,” you said, hesitating. “But it’s seldom steady.”

She nodded yet again, hands roaming over your skin. There wasn’t much to see or feel yet, your stomach looked pretty much the same. Her face scared you, filling your head with doubts. She looked so concentrated and harsh, with no hint of a smile or any other sign of positivity. It made you think there was something wrong.

She looked up at you. “Moi tsarina, you were right. I can feel something too,” she said and then she merely hinted a smile for the first time. “There’s a tiny heartbeat. But we should do some further examinations, only to be sure.”

Now it was your time to nod. You simply led her do whatever she believed was needed to be done. After a while she returned with a smile on her face. A real smile, the first you’ve seen on her this hour. Smiling she simply said: “Congratulations, Your Highness.”

. . .

Sitting on your bed you watched sun and moon slowly change places. The only thought occupying your mind was how you were going to tell Nikolai and imagine his reaction. You were thrilled to tell him but hadn’t seen him since breakfast. Today had been more packed and eventful for him than you thought. You just hoped that he’d get some sleep and work through the night.

As the sun finally said its goodbyes your love busted through the door. Concern was painted all over his face as rushed over you, letting the door hit the wall. You jumped at his bursting energy, but it also confused you. With wide, quick strides Nikolai was by your side, kneeling before of you, taking your hands in his. “Are you alright darling? They said you were at the healer, for almost an hour.”

His hands were quick, faster than his tongue. You couldn’t return anything before his hands rushed to your face to feel your temperature. His movements were hectic, almost slapping your face. “I’m sorry. I was so busy, I didn’t even notice – I couldn’t take care of you.” But Nikolai slumped down when he found no sign of fewer. “You’re sick and I’m fighting with Dukes over potatoes and kvas.”

“Nikolai,” you said, hoping to stop him but when he found no fewer his hand roamed further, looking for any other sign of sickness.

“I’m sorry for not being there enough for you,” he apologized, pressing different spots on your arms, hands and your neck. But he couldn’t find anything. Nikolai was desperate to find anything. However, he was so worried that he didn’t even let you speak. The young kind was too occupied to play physician and finding nothing.

At one point you had enough and used your hands to slow his heartbeat down. You rarely used your heartender abilities on him, only if he asked you to do so. It didn’t seem fair otherwise. But right now, he didn’t leave you any choice. “Love, please calm down.”

Influenced by your powers he let out a deep, rather relaxed breath and looked into your eyes. You cupped his cheeks and were tempted to kiss the tip of his nose, his brows, lips or any other part of his face. But you doubted he would listen to you when you kissed him first.

“Nikolai, I’ve to tell you something,” you said and contemplated about the way you’d do it. Simply proclaiming that you were pregnant seemed a bit boring to you. “You’re no longer my sobachka.”

Confused the blonde king furrowed his brows. Were you breaking off with him? Did you want a divorce? “Are you saying?” He didn’t know what you were saying. “I am not sure if our bond can be broken.”

“What? No!” You said in protest. Breaking off with Nikolai was the least thing you wanted. “I said that because there will be another sobachka.”

“Another?” Why did he look offended now? You really had hoped that he would get it, especially with the visit at the healer. Maybe you had slowed down his heart too much.

“Nikolai,” you sighed, defeated. Gently you caressed his cheeks and pecked his lips, you couldn’t resist anymore. He was so clueless; a kiss couldn’t do any more harm. “I’m pregnant.”

You could see how joy lit up his face. “Do you mean we will be?” He asked, overly excited, more than you had expected. Soon it was him who cupped yourface and kissed you senseless, covering your face in sweet kisses. “Are you serious?”

His joy was contagious, and you couldn’t help but laugh with joy. You nodded. Nikolai kissed you again. But this time he captured your lips in a long, giddy kiss, where you could feel his grin against your lips. And after that he kissed you again, and again.