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moral-turpitudes · 4 years ago

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Silver Linings: Part 1

Masterlist | Rules | Peaky Prompts

A/N: Excuse any of my terrible math skills and if this seems rushed. This is the best I could come up with lol, I hope you all like it though!

Trigger Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Slight Fighting, Descriptions of Drug Use, Drinking, Familial Drama, Fluff, Mentions of Adoption, etc.

Word Count: 3,972

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Adopted Daughter!Reader + Michael Gray x Alfie’s Adopted Daughter!Reader

Summary: After growing tired of hiding, Y/N decides to venture out from the back of her fathers shop, not knowing she’d quite literally fall for one of her father’s enemies who happened to be lurking around the corner. But with tensions growing between the two families, one decision could change the course of their lives as they know it, for better and for worse.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | *Part 4* | Part 5

“Alright Y/N, now when you aim you gotta line yer eyes up with the sight. Take a deep breath, and on that exhale of yours yer gonna pull that little trigger right there.” Alfie said, the teenage girl only coming up to around his chest, her hands shaking slightly as she aimed the small hand gun for one of the flour sacks in the back of the shop. With a small exhale she fired, the bullet whirling through the air and into the target she’d helped draw on it the day before.

“See that’s not so hard innit?” He asked, smiling at the new light in his life.

Y/N heard her father calling for her upstairs, bringing her out of her daydreams from years ago. That was during the first week she’d lived with him after he adopted her from the nearby orphanage. She had no adoptive mother, and no other friends except their dog Cyril, seeing as she had to be practically hidden away on a daily basis. The only time she really went out was to work in her fathers shop, where she’d do her best to avoid being spotted by her fathers business partners-some of which who had strained relationships with him and his men.

Shaking the memory from her brain, she hesitantly walked up the stairs, the creaking of the wood announcing her arrival.

“There you are love. Listen...I’m having Mr. Shelby come by soon so you’ll have to work in the back alright? I know you’ll get me for it later but I’ll make up for it mmkay?” He said, looking his now 21 year old daughter in the eyes. People often found him intimidating, but over the years she grew used to him, knowing deep down he was a sweet person. With every interaction she observed, she could see the pain in his eyes over not being able to really introduce her, knowing it would put her at risk. But deep down there was a mutual understanding between them that it was going to be inevitable that someone would find out, but neither of them thought it would be so soon.

With a sigh, she reluctantly walked towards the back where the other “bakers” worked the ovens and inspected shipments. While she organized bricks of cocaine for shipment, she felt her stomach drop as she realized she’d left her gloves in the front of the shop. She often hated the texture of the bricks as she packed them away, the fabric gloves being her only solace when she was given the task.

Swallowing hard, she nervously crept around the corner, eyeing Thomas Shelby and some of the other blinders in her fathers office as she continued, not noticing the man she collided with as she stumbled back slightly.

“Oi! I’m so sorry sir...wasn’t even fuckin’ looking.” She said, brushing a stray hair from her face and tightening her apron around her waist.

“No problem love, you alright?” He asked, looking concerned as he adjusted his well tailored suit.

“Y-yeah. Just looking for my gloves. I have to go.” She said, knowing she wasn’t supposed to be out for long while the blinders were there, yet trying to not look the dashing man in the eyes.

As she walked away, his eyes followed her to her station where she usually rolled dough and decorated pastries, grabbing her gloves which were tinted white from the previous cocaine shipment she handled earlier in the morning.

“Hey...miss? Before you go...what’s your name?” He asked, a crooked smile spreading across his features as she neared him.

“Uhm...it’s Y/N. What’s yours? You don’t look like you’re from ‘round here.” She said.

“I’m Michael, Michael Gray. I’m with the blinders.” He said.

“Oh....um, well I have to get going. It was nice meeting you...Michael.” She said, awkwardly putting on the gloves as he recognized the powder falling off them.

“What do you around here anyway? I know that’s not flour on those gloves.” He said with a smirk. She swallowed hard before answering, her eyes flicking to the window of her fathers office.

“Um...I bake, and...I organize things. Listen...I really do have to go. I’ll see you ‘round sometime, yeah?” She asked. He followed her gaze to the window, noticing the nervous look on her face.

“Alright. See you around, Y/N.” He said with a wink, walking back to his lookout spot in the corner.

She smirked slightly as she passed him, reluctantly heading straight to the back, the other workers paying her no mind as she resumed packing the bricks.

As she worked, she could hear shouts coming from her fathers office, her stomach tightening in knots at the tension she could see forming in the room. Thomas and him standing close to each other, most likely mumbling threats under their breaths. A few moments later, she saw the men exit the tattered room, putting their razored caps on and storming out the door. Michael ultimately leaving with them, but catching her staring as he looked back towards the room she was in. She smiled lightly as he smirked, shutting the door behind him.

She shook her head as she turned back, getting the rest of her packing done while shaking away the thought of someone like him ever taking an interest. She knew her father dealt in dangerous business, so she wasn’t afraid of the blinders and her father doing business necessarily, but she couldn’t deny that them feuding terrified her, knowing even one slip-up could put her or her father at risk. Blowing their years-long cover.

As she was lost in thought, Alfie walked down after they left, smiling as he grabbed a bottle of rum from one of the crates and locking it back.

“You don’t have to organize all those love. How about we go call it a day aye? I know you’re probably wanting summing’ because your old man made ya work back ‘ere all day.” He said. His words annoying to her ears as of late as she grew bored of her life at the shop and at home. One question forever buzzing in the back of her mind as she continued her monotonous tasks.

“I was wondering something....” She said, taking her gloves off and turning towards him.

“Yeah? Wondering about work or what? I’m all ears now you know.” He said, taking a swig from the bottle in his hand.

Her stomach tightened again as she looked her loving, yet over-protective father in the eyes.

“I was uh...wondering how you would feel if I moved out?” She asked, the thought barely working its way through her anxious mind before spewing out of her mouth.

“What?” He asked, his eyes squinting as he cocked his head to the side.

“I-I just think since I’m an adult now, I’d like to have a place of my own. That way I won’t come between ya and the business as much. I’m tired of hiding, dad.” She said, throwing the gloves on the table as she sat next to him.

“What devils gotten into your bones? Have you been sniffing the snow or drinking me rum?” He asked.

“No dad....I just...I just want to be more independent that’s all.” She said.

“I’ll tell ya what...if you pack the snow for the next month I’ll up your pay so you can get you a place. I’ll chip in some too but getting it on your own will be good for ya. I taught you to shoot but I didn’t teach ya about life aye?” He said.

“No not really. But spare me the lectures. Let’s get home. I’m starving.” She said.

“Alright. Let’s get on with it then.” He said, walking with his cane as they made their way to the car.

As the next few weeks passed, she found herself going into work with a smile. Knowing she’d get to work towards her own place, and for the chance to see the dapper blinder who’d been making regular appearances lately, and to her surprise, for more than business reasons.

He’d been sent by Thomas to crunch numbers and talk bets with Alfie, knowing that he was sent to handle more of the legitimate business than the illegal stuff.

But if Y/N learned anything throughout her years, it was knowing when to make herself known.

She waited until Alfie closed his office door, watching Michael walk down the creaky steps as she did a small whistle.

He turned around and grinned, walking towards her, as was becoming their habit recently.

“Y/N, didn’t think you were here, love. Must’ve been in the back again aye?” He asked, quietly. She nodded and led him to one of the women’s lavatories.

“W-why are we in here? I haven’t even taken you on a date.” He asked, a mischievous grin on his lips.

“Shh. There’s no other place right now for us to go. I haven’t told him.” She said.

“Told who?” He asked.

“My-my father. Alfie.” She said, nervously biting her lip as she removed her hand from his. Crossing her arms over her chest.

“Wait...your father is Alfie fucking Solomons?” He asked, his face hardening at the fact. His usual happy demeanor fading.

“Well, adoptive father. He uh adopted me when I was 16 from an orphanage ’round here. He wanted to protect me...from uh...people like you. I guess he’s had some bad history with the blinders and other groups so I’ve been most my life, just working here to pass the time.” She said.

“People like me? What...are you afraid of me?” He asked.

“What? No! I’ve been around dangerous men all my life. I’m just saying that your blinder cousins may not take a liking to me and neither will my father to you. I just have a bad feeling about it.” She said.

“So...what are we to do? Fucking talk in the bathroom every week or what?” He asked, a small smirk playing at his lips.

“We’ll do what I do best. We’ll have to hide.” She said. He looked at her with a confused expression as he put his hand on her hips.

“I get off at 4pm and my father won’t be home until late at night. I usually go straight home, but meet me at the warehouse later around 7pm, yeah?” She asked, seeing him smirk.

“Michael I’m deadly serious. If Thomas or my father finds out we’re as good as dead.” She said.

“Fine...I’ll meet you, but I want you to bring some of the snow. Can you sneak it out?” He asked.

“Yeah. Alright, now go, the workers are coming down the hall.” She said, hearing the plethora of Alfie’s men stomping down the dark hall, making it easier for Michael to slip out un-noticed.

“See you then, Y/N.” He said, pecking her cheek before he left.

She rubbed the spot, her cheeks flushing at the brief contact.

“Y/N?” Alfie’s voice rang from the hall, making her heart race as she thought of all the reasons he could be asking for her, internally praying that it wasn’t because he caught Michael leaving.

“Yeah dad?” She asked, quickly stepping out of the restroom.

“Thought ya ran off love. I was just gonna remind ya I’m working late again.” He said.

“Alright, how many nights are you working late?” She asked.

“Well, probably every day for this month. Thomas and the rest of his blinders are damn near making me lose me mind.” He said.

“Oh...ok. Well I’ll keep an eye on Cyril then. Is it ok if I go out to the shops later? Been wanting to stock up for the new place, for whenever I get it.” She said.

“I mean I’m not going to be there so I can’t stop ya can’t I? You can but remember your gun and that knife. You remember how to use it aye?” He asked.

“Yes dad, I can’t really forget stabbing a man for you, nor can I forget putting a bullet through his head.” She said, shivering slightly at the memory of when things got tense at the shop with a disgruntled employee. Alfie had beaten the man unconscious and dragged the man to the back, telling her that it would be good practice. And it was, but after it was done, she vowed to herself that she’d never use such weapons unless she had to.

“Right, well I have to go deal with some business. I’ll let you off at 4 like usual alright?” He asked.

“Okay, thanks dad. I’ll see you...I guess tomorrow depending on how late you get in.” She said giving him a hug before walking back to her station.

The last few hours dragged on as she reminisced over the past couple of weeks. Her heart skipped a beat thinking about how they’d secretly talk and make out behind the shop where her dad couldn’t see, and how on days like today she had to drag him into the restroom as her heart beat out of her chest at the rebelliousness of it all. It was nothing compared to what she planned to get away with tonight, and for hopefully weeks to come, but it was a small step towards her independence, even if they had to hide their relationship from the world.

As the clock struck 4 she headed towards the back of the building, snagging a bottle of rum from an opened crate and replacing it with one that had just came off the line for the night. Shoving the bottle in her purse as she grabbed a rather small brick of cocaine, it being one of the various runts in the pile they’d received that day.

With quick steps, she went out the door and down to the car that was waiting for her. The purse growing slightly heavy as she continued on. Her father didn’t want her walking home alone of course, and so he arranged for one of his men to routinely take her home, ultimately becoming a blessing and a curse for her independence she was so desperately trying to achieve.

“Hello Tim, I have an odd request today.” She said, counting the huge wad of cash in her purse she’d managed to save up well before asking about apartments

“What’s that Ms.Solomons?” He asked, hid old face wrinkling with a smile.

“Can we stop by the housing department? I’ve had my eye on an apartment for a few weeks. Don’t worry though, I’ve already gotten my fathers approval.” She said, pulling off her biggest lie yet.

“Alright, after that do you wish to go home? He asked.

“Yes please.” She said, watching as the streets zipped by.

Once at the housing department, she told the landlord where she’d like to stay and she followed her to the requested location. Her eyes lit up as she saw the rather grand place. It was just close enough that her father needn’t worry too much while also being just enough of a distance away from the shops she loved going to. It was a rather safe area given the town and her fathers plethora of men protecting her, but she enjoyed the new sense of independence as she gave the woman a cash deposit, along with enough for the years rent.

The woman’s eyes lit up as she saw the amount of cash, Y/N rather un-phased given her fathers business.

“Are you sure Ms.? This is so much in advance.” She said.

“Yes. When shall I move in?” She asked. Checking her watch and seeing it was just after 5pm.

“Oh I’d say ‘round any time next week. Here’s your key, just drop by before you begin moving in.” She said with a smile as she got in her car and left.

“Alright Tim, I’m ready to go home.” She said, a satisfied smile on her face.

“I’m impressed. You got this place yourself? Alfie must be proud.” He said.

“Mhmm.” Y/N said, nervously fidgeting with her hands as she remembered the lie. He’d have her neck if he knew she’d already bought the place earlier than he would’ve liked. But what could it hurt?

The minutes passed rather quickly as she was dropped off at her house, walking inside to see Cyril’s tail wagging as she came through the front door. The house was dimly lit and quiet, just as she’d left it that morning. She played with him and made sure his water bowl was filled, seeing as the maid would help feed him later, but she still loved helping wherever she could.

“Ms. Y/N, I have your dress ready. I’ll feed the dog later and make sure the house is kept before leaving. I hope you enjoy your date.” The older woman said, a genuine smile on her face.

“Thank you so much. I can’t tell you how much you’ve helped me these last few weeks. Here.” She said, giving her a few slips of cash from her purse.

“Just as a thank you. I’ll be moving in next week to my apartment. Dad doesn’t know though so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell him.” She said.

The maids eyes widened at the cash in her hand, agreeing with a small smile and a quick nod before returning to her duties. As much as she loved this house, she wanted to do things on her own terms. She wanted to meet people on her own terms, and finally not hide herself. To make more friends than just the maid. To start actually living.

With an excited smile she ran up the stairs, putting the casual dress on and doing her makeup, deciding to leave her hair as-is, then anxiously making her way outside. The purses weight tugging at her shoulder as she walked down the quiet streets, her gun in her purse and her small knife in hand.

Once she neared the warehouse, she sat around the back, taking a swig of the rum before Michael got there to calm her nerves.

She watched the sun set over Camden Town, the birds songs ending as the insects buzzed about, the air turning a bit colder as she looked at her watch. It was just after 7pm, her heart sinking in her chest as she thought he’d stood her up. But after a few moments, she heard footsteps, making her panic slightly not knowing who was behind them. She carefully drew her gun, aiming at the man as he walked closer, his hands soon up in surrender.

“Y/N? It’s me. Michael.” He said, a smirk on his face, lowering his hands.

“I figured you were ‘round back, didn’t think you’d try to shoot me though.” He said.

“Sorry. You never know out here.” She said, putting her gun away and retrieving the cocaine and rum.

“You carried all that here? I’m impressed.” He said, inspecting the cocaine as she opened the bottle, taking another swig from it. She cringed internally as the liquid burned her throat. She’d only drank a few times, not to any huge extent, but now that she was older and more capable, she figured she at least could drink how she pleased.

“How’d you score this rum?” He asked, taking a swig from the bottle as well.

“I stole it from my dads stash in the back. And that coke is one of the runts of the batch, it was too small to pack in the big crates. Figured I’d bring the whole thing since you seemed to know about it a couple weeks ago.” She said, smirking at the memory of their first awkward meeting.

“Have you tried it?” He asked, leaning back against the wall of the warehouse.

“No.” She said turning away from his gaze as she nervously brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

“It’s easy. Watch.” He said, unwrapping it and shaving off a sliver of the white substance with her knife. He sat it on top of the brick and made sure it was all crushed, forming it in a straight line.

He handed her the brick carefully as she held it up towards his face, him inhaling the powder through his nose in one fell swoop.

“You want me to shove that shit up my nose? Are you mad?” She asked, giggling as she took another swig from the rum.

“Yeah. Can’t hide from everything love.” He said, his words hitting home probably more than he realized.

“Alright, if I die, my fathers gonna have your head on a spike.” She said.

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.” He said, preparing a smaller amount of the drug and holding it up to where she could inhale it through her nose. Her nostril burned as she did so, the foreign particles lacing their way through her system.

She laughed and shook her head, wiping her nose of any excess powder as she looked up at Michael who was chuckling slightly.

“That was so odd. I’m not doing that again. Not right now anyway.” She said, handing him the bottle of rum as she curled up next to him. It had only been about a month since they’d met, but even then, their interactions became more frequent.

Over the next few weeks, it was as if they’d known each other for years the way they got on. His aunt Polly eventually seeing a spark in his eye that wasn’t there before, and the same went for Alfie.

“You’ve met someone. I can tell.” Polly said one night, catching him coming in drunk on more than one occasion.

“Yeah I did. Tommy can’t do anything about it. It’s not his concern so don’t go telling him.” He said as he stumbled into the house.

As Michael grappled with the weight of seeing an adversaries daughter, Y/N had gradually moved things into her apartment with the help of her driver, all under her fathers nose. But she knew that once her room was more vacant, he’d catch on. Knowing if the blinders didn’t anger him enough, her leaving suddenly surely would.

One night after a drunken date with her mystery boyfriend, Alfie confronted her. Holding the small brick they’d chipped away at over the previous weeks.

“Oi! You wanna explain this? No daughter of mine is going to be sneaking drugs in me house. Do you really think I’m dumb? Cuz I guarantee you I’m not. This can’t happen. Not under my roof.” He said, lighting his cigar.

“Well if you didn’t want to pack it anyway I thought I might as well put it to good use. But uh, I’ll be sneaking it under me own roof from now on. I’ve bought a place if you couldn’t already tell from barging in my room to find that.” She said, folding her arms like she often did when she was frustrated.

Alfie stepped closer to her, his eyes not leaving hers as she barely flinched.

“I’ll find out who you’re doing all this for. Once I do, you’ll wish ya never stole a thing.” He said, walking towards his chair he usually sat on in their grand living room.

Y/N shook her head and chuckled to herself, stomping off towards her room. Her mind raced as she thought about what to do, grabbing what was left of her clothes and hurling them into her suitcases, deciding to leave the house for good in the morning.

Alfie sighed and sat back in his chair as he heard Y/N rummaging around upstairs. The sweet girl he helped raise all of a sudden wanting to leave the nest.

It seemed like everything was fine in their lives until the peaky fucking blinders waltzed into his shop. Not caring who they destroyed as long as they got their money, their rum, or their drugs.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders fanfic #michael gray x female!reader #michael gray x reader #michael gray x y/n #michael gray #katiesfics #alfie solomons #alfie solomons x adopted daughter!reader

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gveret-fic · 4 years ago

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A lil fic in which Gideon showers with her clothes on, changes in the dark, applies her face paint out of a manual, and doesn't touch herself ever. Well. Hardly ever.

HtN spoilers ahead!

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A bit anticlimactic, if you ask me, after slaying brain melting horror bees and swimming right out of hell, for my next great big challenge to be trying to figure out how to take a dump in a prudish little nun’s body without compromising its modesty.

Not to put too fine a point on it or anything, my sombre bathroom break micromanager, but you really didn’t stick the landing on this one. You had a letter for basically every contingency, like you had one for if God sneezed really hard and blew out the sun, I’m pretty sure, and then mine was basically just ‘fuck you, return to sender’. You just went and parked your porsche in my landing pad with the blasters still on and didn’t even bother to leave the DRY CLEANING ONLY tag on the upholstery. I had to come up with a virtue-preserving game plan all on my lonesome, you know.

And I've been such a good girl, Harrow, you'd be proud. Well, at least you'd be such an unexpectedly small, tiny, miniscule, astonishingly negligible amount of pissed off that it's basically pride at that point, right.

Don't get me wrong, it was a logistical nightmare. Ever tried to shower in multiple robes plus what I must assume are, like, pantaloons? The sonic flaps it all the fuck around, and let me tell you, getting spanked by heavy Ninth vestments is now officially off my kink list. Now, the other option is wet dog trapped in straightjacket, and I'm not too keen on that one either. But I stuck with it. It takes like 20 minutes, no joke, to struggle out of all your stupid layers in the dark, with my eyes closed, without touching any of your most hallowed skin. But I've got a knack for it now, you know? If I ever get the chance to get a lil frisky, maybe with a hot ghost or something I don't know, I can totally impress her with my wild 100% contact free striptease skills.

What I'm saying is, I've been such a super duper chaste and meticulous and ephemeral little make believe nun it's like I was never even here. So you gotta take that into consideration, Harrow, when you pass your terrible judgment once I tell you how I've sinned.

So, it happened when I was putting your face paint on. It wasn’t half bad, either. Really, it was half good. I’ve been practicing. I found this horrible little book full of the gnarliest, creepiest, just most hideous skull faces, and they all had these pretentious titles like The Palm of the Storm or The Young Boy’s Booger. Just your style, basically.

But I was looking at your face in the mirror—that’s the way paint application goes, Harrow, don’t pout—and I got stuck on your pinched, bloodless lips for some reason, and I forgot for a moment that it was me in your muscles, and I just thought, wow, you looked so sad. You always looked so goddamn sad, and no one ever did a fucking thing about it, least of all you, and in that moment I was so angry about it, I could smack you.

So naturally I reached out and I brushed your knuckle gently over your cheek. And lo, I wasn’t struck down on the spot. That gave me a bit of a confidence boost, I suppose. I ran your thumb under your eye, just a little avuncular half circle while thinking just the purest fucking thoughts, and it came away wet.

Really got you going, that one little barely there swipe. You needed this real bad, Nonagesimus. I needed this, too. We were gagging for it. We were crying for it. I needed you to be touched gently, so bad, and I needed even badder to be the one doing the touching. I knew you wouldn't want that, of course, don't feel the need to defend your honor. This was my best compromise, okay? I didn't have a lot to work with. This way you wouldn't really be touched and I wouldn't really be touching, but maybe we'd both get a little something out of it anyway.

This is maybe a good time to confess those thoughts weren't so totally super pure. They were maybe a little muddier, a little earthier, you know. Harrow, listen, I've been thinking a lot about your body, what with living in it for months and having only the one made up magazine to look at and being balls to the wall in love and all. Sorry. So when I tell you I've been thinking about running my fingertip over your eyebrow from glabella to sphenoid, what I'm saying is I've fantasized about the texture of each one of your big black goddamn eyebrow hairs so much my finger's never not tingly anymore. And when I wiped your eye with a tiny knuckle and ran that smooth little fingertip along your real ass eyebrow, Harrow, there was a definite fucking tingle, and I didn't fucking stop.

I traced the smooth plane of your frontal bone, the proud arch of your brow ridge. I dragged your fingertips over your temple and into the mass of your sweaty, overlong hair. The side of your finger grazed the shell of your ear, and you shivered—your ears are so sensitive, Nonageaimus, I thought this stuff only happened in porn—and I felt the full, terrifying shape of your skull in my hand. I cupped the back of your sore-ass neck in a palm and I squeezed just a little, just to let us know we were held, and I worked our fingertips into those nonexistent traps that still somehow managed to be clenched tighter than a stoma that's munched down on one too many emperors. I kneaded them good until they loosened just a bit, and we were still crying like a little bitch.

I squeezed your shoulder, the clavicle pressing sharply into our palm, and I stroked down your bicep, which did not deserve the name, by the way, and I brushed the inside of your elbow and I dragged the underside of your bitten fingernails up your forearm and over that terrifyingly delicate wrist and your doll sized soft palm and then I held your fucking hand.

Yeah, I laced our fucking fingers together, Harrow. Eat me.

I could feel your heart beating in our interdigital folds, I was holding your hand so hard and so intertwiney. And we were definitely feeling some kind of way just then. I had to sit down on your bony ass, your eyes leaking, your shoulders shaking, as I was having just the most mortifying little breakdown over holding my own hand.

I'm sorry, Harrow. I wanted to hug you a lot, these past few months. There were so many moments I wanted to reach outside of you, all like blerghgrgh sudden gorgeous beefy arm bursting out of your stomach to smack Shittier Gideon in the balls or give Shittier Tridentarius a purple nurple. I wanted to give you a pat on the head, tell you've been a good good doggie and you can take a lil break now. Wanted to rub your shoulders and arms all over, force a bit of warmth into em even if I've given up on muscle. Wanted to brace the heel of my palm at the small of your back, squeeze your hips and pull em back, run a hand along that spine to make it proud again, just to give you some support, just to see you stand up straight. Wanted to rub the frown right off your brow, poke your lil cheeks and make you snarl, give you something nice and tough to bite on. But mostly I just wanted to hold you.

I wanted to wrap you tight, so that you'd become a compact little package with well defined edges and maybe then you could open it all up and let it out. Only in my big stupid arms, I'd think selfishly, like some sort of grand duke of self delusion, would you finally feel safe enough to cry.

Nah. Who was I kidding? It was me who was crying. It was me who wanted to be comforted, to be touched kindly, to have her hand held, and it was only me who was getting anything out of doing this stupid weird creepy bullshit. I wasn't giving you shit, Nonagesimus. I just wanted to hold your hand.

I didn't let go, though. Again, Harrow, sorry. Your body didn't care that it was only you, only me. Your skin and your flesh and all those bits you didn't care about wanted this too, probably. The pressure, and the warmth, the illusion or the weird roundabout reality of another person who cares about you. Maybe I'm making excuses again. But I care about you, Harrow. You'll believe that much, won't you? I care about your body. I care about all the non-skeleton parts of you, even. Baffling, I know.

So I sat on your ass, and I bent your head over our joined hands, and I cried, and I didn't let go.

#harrow the ninth #gideon the ninth #harrow the ninth spoilers #griddlehark #the locked tomb #my fic

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some-dr-writings · 4 years ago

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Kiibo helps Reader with burnt fingers wash their hair

· You sighed in defeat waking up that morning. It was shower day, the day you’ve been dreading. But it had to be done. You could take care of most of yourself just fine, but your hair… it was rather difficult to care for it with only one hand, so you’d have to use your burnt fingers, not matter how much it hurt.

· You glanced to the corner of the room, finding Kiibo was still shut off, recharging. Though you appreciated Kiibo helping you get your work done before your deadline, given your work became much more difficult with all the fingers of your right hand being burnt, it… it felt weird having him stay up all night with you, it was your work after all, but Kiibo insisted on helping, stating he’d could stay up for a full week without needing to recharge, which evidently was true. Sometimes you were jealous of him. He could recharge and not need to eat or shower, he could just keep going without needing to stop… or feel the pain of burnt fingers. Though he likely had other things to maintain in place of those you knew.

· You winced, feeling the water pelt down on your burnt hand. You wondered how it still was so tender. Seeing your hand uncontrollably, lightly tremble you tried keeping it away from the water or walls or door or anything else.

· On unsteady feet you leaned against the wall, exhaustion threatening to knock you out at any moment. With a yawn you mindlessly reached out for a shampoo bottle, only to yelp out, slipping and falling. You braced for impact, landing on your hands and arms. “Y/N!” You heard more than your name being called, but it was near impossible to make out what the words were amongst the crashing of water. Shakily you sat up, using your uninjured, though slightly stinging hand to shut off the water. “I-I’m okay, Kiibo!” “From that crashing sound to your shaking voice I have reason to believe otherwise!” “J-just tired. Go back to recharging.” “… I realize this may be strange to ask, but can I help in some way?” You clenched your teeth, feeling this pain course through your fingers. “I can handle it. Just have my hair left.” “But won’t that hurt? You told me how bad it was last time.” “Well… I don’t exactly have a choice if I wanna stay clean, now do I.” “…” You were just about to turn the water back on when an unexpected and confusing request was made of you. “Y/N come to the kitchen and bring your hair care supplies!” “… Huh?” “I’ll wash your hair!” Baffled, yet intrigued, you decided to go along with this. Not before quickly drying off and getting dressed that was.

· Entering the kitchen, you found Kiibo had set up a chair before the kitchen sink. “Ah, so we’re trying this salon style.” “Yes! Just leave everything to me!” “But Kiibo… Do you know how to care for hair?” “… There are instructions on the bottles, right?” You chuckled as you took your seat, seeing Kiibo turn slightly sheepish at your question. “It’s simple, I’ll tell you.”

· You leaned your head back into the sink. “Well, the first step is wetting the hair, and that’s already taken care of. Though we will have to rinse later and you’ll need some practice so nothing get’s in my eyes.” “What will happen if it gets into your eyes?” “It’ll sting, a lot.” “I see!” Seeing his slightly flustered yet determined expression made you smile. No matter what, Kiibo always tried his best in everything.

· He first tested the kitchen spray hose away from you, wanting to see how much pressure it had. Then slowly pointed it towards you rewetting your damp hair. “First the shampoo, you massage that into the scalp.” He looked over the bottles, making sure he got the right one. “Oh, about the size of the palm of your hand is enough. It doesn’t take much.” “Alright. Is there anything I should know, any techniques?” “No, no, you just rub it in, nothing complicated.” At first his movements were hesitant and stiff, but he quickly relaxed, and he slowly worked higher and higher to the crown of your head. He kept glancing to your face making sure he didn’t accidentally get any shampoo near your eyes. It was pleasant hearing the soft foaming sound and feeling those metallic fingers massage into you. You’d think it’d hurt, but Kiibo used a light pressure and used the pads of his fingers, not the tips so with more surface the pressure was more spread out. He even occasionally asked if he was hurting you or not.

· “Next we have the conditioner, that more so goes in the middle and lower part of the hair to help detangle it and make brushing easier.” “Oh! So that’s how you get the tiny knots out!” “Exactly. With a brush alone it just gets caught and tightens them.”

· As he worked the conditioner in, he seemed to stop at some point. “I never realized how heavy hair could be when wet. Even without the shampoo and conditioner it’s rather hefty.” “Your hair is not the same?” “My hair is made of synthetic fibers and some metals. Thanks to some carefully placed magnets and a few other things, it can be styled and stay in place without need of hair products!” “Is that why your hair can stay in place even in the harshest of wind or never fall in rain, yet still gently move with the breeze?” “Yes! It can move a little but not much unless I want it too when styling.” “Huh… So what does it feel like? Human hair or something else?” “… Y/N that’s robophobic!” “Hey! Excuse me if I forget you can’t feel different textures! Actually… Can’t Iruma or Dr. Idabashi give you a function so you could feel stuff?” Kiibo was silent for a moment. “Let me guess, I’m still being robophobic.” Kiibo kneeled down beside you. “No. Not the last part, but it’s true that I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?” You looked to him with sparkling eyes. “I get to pat Kiibo.” You eagerly pet his hair. “It’s so weird… and silky soft.” There was some resistance, you could pet it, but in general it could all stay in place, so any attempts at playfully ruffling his hair would be in vain. “It’s like… it reminds me of that feeling when you hold those really thin chained necklaces, it’s cool, and seems soft despite knowing it’s metal. Feels like that.”

· “Now all that’s left is rinsing it all out.” “… Huh?” You couldn’t help but laugh seeing how baffled Kiibo was. “H-hey! Don’t laugh at me!” “Sorry, but that expression.” You managed to repress it to a chuckle before continuing to speak. “Just leaving it all in is not healthy. So we gotta wash it out.” “Okay. So… it’s like washing clothes? You put the soap in but also wash it out.” “Yeah, just like that!” “I understand.” Kiibo held the tips of your hair in one hand, the other the sprayer hose but something kept him from pressing the button. “… Uh, tell me if I get soap in your eyes. Those are very delicate, and I don’t want to be responsible for damaging them! You can’t be as easily repaired as me.” “I’ll scream. That should suffice.” He flinched, momentarily turning the hose on, startling himself. He slammed it back into it’s place, fearing accidentally turning it on again. “DON’T SCREAM! You’ll startle me and maybe things will just get worse!” “Alright, fine, I won’t. I’ll just tell you.” Kiibo sighed, crossing his arms. “Thank you. Now, back to washing.”

· He gently ran his fingers through your hair, making sure he washed out every part. He was careful to avoid any knots, knowing pulling on hair could be especially painful. He was here to make life easier for you, the last thing he wanted was to hurt you, you were getting enough of that from your fingers. Your hair absolutely fascinated him. It had this glossy shine even after washing the conditioner out. It reminded him of a waterfall how it just flowed down so prettily. Never before had he found something similar to it. It was soothing and almost fun going through it, though his anxiety spiked as he worked his way to the crown of your head faster than he had anticipated. He was very careful to not allow the water to get to your face.

· “Now pat it down so we don’t get water on the floor. Then we just brush, and we’re done!” Kiibo did as told, drying your hair out enough for it to not drip everywhere. You scooched the chair forward so Kiibo could have enough room. “When brushing you need to start from the bottom. If you go from the top, you’ll just tighten the knots.” “That makes sense. I’ll start from the bottom then.” As he brushed, he used one hand to hold a higher part of your hair, hoping that could negate any accidental pulling, but… “Ow!” “Sorry! I’m so sorry!” “Kiibo, it’s alright. I’m fine.” “Are you sure?” “Yes, I am.” “Should I know of anything else?” “Uh… Nothing I can think of.” Hesitantly he went back to work, a part of him fearful of hurting you again. He carefully brushed through it, his nervousness soon subsiding. He found himself getting lost in detangling those knots and the soft sound of your hair getting combed through. When he reached your scalp he opted to brush through with his fingers, thinking the bristles of the brush may hurt you. It… was intriguing seeing his fingers part your hair, getting him to realize just how thin hairs were. It got him to wonder if he truly got all the knots out.

· “Heh, having fun?” “Uh- Huh?” “You’ve been done for a while now, but you keep brushing.” His whole face flushed a bright pink and his face covering shot up, clamping over his mouth. “I, I, I-I, I’m just being thorough! I don’t want to mess up!” “Kiibo, there no need to be embarrassed.” “I’M NOT EMBARASED!” You could help but burst into laughter only making that blush on Kiibo darken to a bright red. “Well, then you don’t have to stop… it felt nice.” “It felt nice?” His embarrassed tone faded, intrigued by your words. “Yeah, like a kind of scalp massage, but not.” “Then allow me.” You hummed in delight, melting into his touch. You loved this. “Thank you, Kiibo. For everything. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t.” “I’m just glad to help. Now…” You looked to him in confusion feeling he had placed his hand on your shoulders. “I’ve heard shoulder massages are very relaxing. Relax, and let yourself fall asleep. You’ve been up for a week straight. We’ve gotten all your work done, you’ve taken care of yourself so there’s nothing left to tend to except for your energy, so, like everything else, allow me to assist with this.” “Kiibo, you’re too kind.” “… If that is the case, I don’t see what that has to do with this.” “… Well, you didn’t reject the compliment, so I’ll take it.” “Take what, exactly?” “Never mind. I’m just tired.” He smiled, seeing your eyes already starting to droop. “I’ll get started then.”

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the-sunshine-dims · 4 years ago

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amnesia rewrite! (chapter 4)

ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 5 | ch 6 | ch 7 | ch 8 |

original fic

words: 2043

ao3

contents and warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, amnesia, kid!janus, Janus finally gets a hug himself, fluff,

____

Roman couldn’t help but exhale a breath as he finished up explaining the situation to Remus and Virgil, “Any questions?”

To his relief, no one said anything, Virgil just shrugging at the question. He counted that as a small victory, especially since he was awful at explaining the answers to most questions, actually, why did he keep getting posted at the task of telling people when he was so bad at it? both Patton and Logan would be better at it than him, he was sure of it.

His train of thought came to a halt when Remus spoke up abruptly, his voice both more steady and more serious than Roman’s ever heard it “if that’s the situation then I think I need to stay away from him if J-J started sobbing when he found out the old king-y dude was all-'' he made a slicing of his neck motion along with the noise to go with it -“then I can’t imagine what his reaction would be if my thoughts voiced themselves like they usually do, while around him. So unless he actually asks for me, which I don’t think’ll happen, I’ll just hang out in the dark side, ooh! and I can experiment with the stuff that got banned for melting the floors! I wonder what would happen if I put it in cupcakes-“ he giggled maniacally to himself at the realization no one would be there to supervise him.

Roman cut him off, “I think for the most part your right, I don’t know how much he can handle right now, and we don’t want to overwhelm him, so yeah okay, Though I’ll make sure they’ll be someone to check on you so your not completely to your own devices because I imagine Janus wouldn’t want his room smelling like chemicals and.. whatever else you use for your... art projects.” He told him, ignoring the last bit of what Remus said. Honestly Roman was kind of proud of his brother, he was a lot more caring and considerate than he let on.

he gave him a small smile before quietly going “I’m glad Janus has you as a friend, you care about him.”

Remus rolled his eyes like a petulant teenager, it wasn’t like he was doing something super amazing for Janus Afterall, he was just being a generally decent person, he knew his presence might hurt Janus currently so he wasn’t actively going to be around him for a minute and sure yeah he cared about him but he cared for the sentiment slime goop in his room too so it wasn’t that big a deal.

As Roman and Remus continued their conversation Virgil slipped out of the room silently, unnoticed. not offering a reason for leaving.

____

Janus walked down the corridor, fingers brushing against the walls, feeling the textures, every now and then the paint changed into a different color, he would guess it was Morality and Roman’s doing since it often went from soft light blues to vibrant reds, making only small breaks to show swirly designs in purples and dark blues. he liked to feel how the different paint changed the texture, even ever so slightly, it was kinda cool to him, and it was something to do while Roman and the others were busy-

he reeled back immediately as soon as he felt his face slam into someone, luckily it didn't hurt much as the crash was cushioned with soft fabric, regardless though embarrassment still curled up and made itself at home in the pit of his stomach as the realization of he ran into someone finally dawned on him.

After the initial shock subsided, he just started apologizing profusely “I’m sorry! I’m so so sorry!! I didn’t mean to run into you! Are you- are you okay?” He asked as he finally looked up to see who the side he ran into was,

Their face was pale and freckle-clad and.. he knew him!

He gasped excitedly as he began giddily clapping his hands “wait! Hi!! Anxiety I remember you!” He grinned, ignoring how anxiety still hadn’t spoken up, he used to be very quiet so maybe he’s just still like that, either way, he continued “actually Wait- I remember you with a different jacket.. but! I like this one. It's cool!! I like the purple patches!- oh!! Also, guess what! morality and Logic have names! Isn’t that cool?”

Virgil shrugged and Janus took that as an invitation to continue.

“Do you have a name too? I bet if you do it’s cool! Like Ummm… uh- what’s a cool name?” He pondered aloud, not able to think of anything besides names like thor-Bonecrusher or other stuff of that variety.

Anxiety once again shrugged and Janus accepted that well enough; maybe anxiety just didn’t have a name, so Janus didn’t push, but he did continue chattering on happily enough.

At some point, Virgil started to continue walking, if slowly, down the hallway, to where he was trying to go originally, Janus immediately following him like an excited golden retriever puppy as he talked about.. hell knows what, Virgil couldn’t keep track. But regardless of that, honestly, Virgil didn’t think he minded Janus’s presence as much as he thought he would, he was fully willing to just avoid him when He left the conversation with Roman and Remus, not because he would accidentally harm Janus like Remus- well he might Virgil.. tended to be way to blunt but sometimes with things that annoy him, and earlier he was pretty certain Janus would only annoy him, hell, earlier all he wanted to do was avoid Janus because he knew he was still Janus and quite honestly he didn’t want to deal with Janus.

Though honestly Janus himself, while kind of annoying and overdramatic, wasn’t.. awful, like Virgil pretended he was, he inwardly sighed before just ignoring that specific train of thought, something he was actually pretty accustomed and successful at doing.

As he got around to tuning back into what Janus was doing all he heard silence, which given any other time he may have been happy for But this silence is almost.. somber? He looked over quickly and found Janus looking at the floor as he walked, though much slower than before, hell now he was actually walking a distance behind Virgil.

He was already looking at Janus but he could only double-take as he heard a small voice go “I’m sorry…” it trailing off after a minute before continuing, obviously unsure of what it had done wrong but assuming it’d done something “I- I don’t know what I did but I’m sorry! I don’t wanna be mean I promise! If you just tell me what I did I won’t do it again I promise! I’ll be nice! I- ‘m sorry.. ’m sorry..” his voice cracked and got smaller as he wrung his hands nervously.

And Virgil could only quietly go “shit I messed up.” because he could recognize the signs as much as anyone that Janus was halfway to spiraling, and honestly, Virgil couldn’t blame him after all they were walking a very long 15 minutes because somehow the hallway went on forever, and Virgil doesn’t know 90% of what Janus said because he just stopped listening and on top of that he hadn’t even spoken a word to the kid- and that was weird to think of him as a kid, but he was, he was an impressionable, anxious kid who desperately wanted other people to like him, and that on top of anything meant he probably thought Virgil was just ignoring him for something he didn’t even remember doing.

And he could only panic quickly as Janus’s eyes remained dead set on the floor, and he didn’t know if Janus was trying to disappear into it or if it was him trying to hide the fact his eyes were starting to get glossy with unshed tears because he wholeheartedly thought Virgil hated him- and oh fuck he really did fuck up.

He tried to think of what Patton did to comfort him and in an act of pure panic brain, he scooped him up in a secure hug and hoped that would help.

The result was Janus going almost limp before starting to dry hiccup as he tried to force the tears away after a moment he just confusedly went “but- but you didn’t wanna talk to me And you were ignoring me and you looked really annoyed and-“ he started wiggling from Virgil’s hold “no- wait don’t worry you don’t have to be nice to me if you don’t like me- I promise you don’t have to!” He rushed in telling him, trying to scramble so he wasn’t leaning on Virgil and Jesus this was almost as bad as when they all went to Virgil’s room with how anxious Janus was, he could practically feel the anxiety radiating off.

And he realized he really did have to actually talk to Janus, he wasn’t gonna get less anxious just by getting a hug, Virgil wasn’t Patton he didn’t have that magical ability, so he loosened his hold on Janus just enough to get Janus to stop trying to accidentally on purpose fall onto the floor before just going “I don’t dislike you,” and just those words alone made Janus go completely still, so Virgil continued “and I didn’t mean to Ignore you I just got lost in thought, though that’s definitely not an excuse, because even if I didn’t mean to I did, but the important part is i- I like you,” he told him, not confidently, because while he knew he would be lying if he said he disliked him he didn’t have enough time to sort through his emotions to confidently say he liked him.

But regardless of how uncertain Virgil sounded, Janus still looked up at him with eyes so filled with hesitance but also soft gentle hope as he shakily went “promise? No lies?”

Virgil offered a small smile, “promise, no lies.” He repeated and Janus barreled into him in a hug,

And As Virgil wrapped his arms around the shortest side for the second time in five minutes which has got to be some kind of record- he realized hey he was a lot better at this whole comforting thing than he thought he would be, which wasn’t really saying a lot but hey.

After a while of just standing there, the awkwardness and strain of standing still in a random hallway motivated Janus to unwrap his arms from around Virgil and retrieve his face from his being buried in Virgil’s chest.

And that only made it more awkward because now they were both just standing in the hallway literally just staring at each other.

So Janus, deciding he hated when stuff was awkward just went “do you know anything fun to do? I’m bored and morality and Logic and Roman are all busy.”

Virgil visibly thought to himself about options before going “are you in a movie mood or music mood? Or if you’re in none of them we might just have to kidnap Roman and see if he has ideas.”

Janus hummed before just happily going “I like music!” practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Virgil smiled before he got an idea, “do you like my chemical romance?” He asked and Janus seemed confused at what that was but eventually decided if Virgil liked it then Janus will like it too, so Janus just nodded in reply and just Virgil grinned.

——

Later Logan had to ask them to quiet down because he needed to work and couldn’t focus and he was almost certain that they were gonna damage their eardrums since he could hear the loud shouts of the lyrics coming from the speakers while in the kitchen, though, even if he failed at getting them to turn it down he was glad they were getting along, Janus was practically bouncing with how gleeful he was, even Virgil had a small smile on his face, so logan supposed even if later they had headaches from the blasting music as long as they were still happy it would be okay in the long run.

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mae-gi-writes · 4 years ago

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Halloween Escapade | Jacob (The Boyz)

You and Jacob both dislike parties, so why not ditch it to get Mcdonald’s?

Genre: fluff

A/N: I KNOW I’M ONE MONTH LATE FOR HALLOWEEN But I saved this in my drafts and forgot to post it. Nothing too intense, just a little cute Jacob. Enjoy <3

-----

“You mind doing my makeup?" Looking up from your makeup palette, your heart does a little stutter at the sight of a dishevelled-looking Jacob decked in what seems to be a skeleton-themed shirt and pants. On the occasion of Halloween, the office had decided to close its doors early to celebrate. It was also a good excuse to order some good assortments of finger-picking foods and expensive cake. Being the artist that you were, you had brought along your entire makeup collection, ready to help out anyone in need of paint or decoration on their face.

But you had not expected Jacob, of all people, to be standing before you while shuffling his feet like a shy little schoolboy. He is obviously of a higher status than you are in the office, one of the Directors that has a certain percentage of shares, no doubt. You as a mere office worker that looked up to him in admiration, and had to admit that you had developed a little crush throughout the months of noticing his gentle and kind demeanour. "Uh--sure," you quickly stutter out before gesturing towards the seat, "you can sit here." He does so without complaint as you ask, "what kind of makeup do you want?" "Could you do a skull?" "Uhm--" that takes a long time, your brain screams out at you, "s--sure. No promises, though." "That's alright. The uglier the better anyway," he pauses, "not that your drawings are ugly, I--that's not what I meant." You chuckle softly signalling to him that it's all good. Opening up your palette and dabbing your sponge with white powder, you hesitate slightly before you start covering his face; his eyebrows, over his eyes, down the slope of his nose. He's gorgeous, you think to yourself while trying not to giggle at the thought of you two being so close in physical proximity. You hope that he can't hear the way your heart practically beats out of your chest, an excited hummingbird bursting out through your ribcage. "So...did you learn that yourself?" Jacob asks after a bout of silence. "Mostly. But I was always comfortable with painting and all that stuff," you start contouring his face with gray and silently appreciate the flawless texture of his skin, "I used to do makeup for halloween every year when I was still in school." "That's so cool. I wish I could paint like that," his eyes flutter open to momentarily gaze into your eyes, "the only thing I'm good at are numbers." "Well you know, I grew up wishing I was good at numbers." 'We always want something we can't have." "True," you start blending the black with the white, the makeup taking on a grey tone to create a shadow, "but if it makes you feel better, most people admire the ones who know their numbers well." "You sound like you know something about that." You just smile faintly, "I hope I don't sound too whiny. That wasn't my intention." "No, your honesty is...refreshing," he mumbles through closed lips as you brush over his face with the blender, "I mean, I don't really know how it feels because I'ver never faced this kind of problem. But I can understand how frustrating that might be, for people to judge someone based on their jobs." His compliment throws you off, so much so that you can't help the heat from spreading over your cheeks, "oh--uh, I hope that wasn't too rude. I wasn't trying to offend you or anything--" "No no, not offended," Jacob raises his hands in mock surrender, "I'd be frustrated too, in your place." His blunt sweetness makes your heart flutter and it makes you glad that his eyes are closed at this very moment, for it would've probably made you even more embarrassed to be looking at him face to face. Clearing your throat, you move to his eyes, applying soft dark smudges over his lids as he asks,"so, how do you find life here?" That's how it goes, with him sitting patiently and as still as a statue, and you painting the contours of his face while trying your best not to admire the beauty of the man sitting before you, a work of art you simply can't take your eyes off of. But the more you converse, the more you realize how much you have in common. And the result is astounding, to say the least. For starters, you would never have known that your superior hates socials the most, or that despite people at the office drinking their coffee black, Jacob prefers his coffee with lots of milk and sugar that is enough to cause him diabetes. Not that he's proud of it, mind you. It's not until someone coughs loudly behind Jacob that you realize he's been sitting there a lot longer than he's supposed to, jumping before quickly noticing the growing line of impatient people waiting for their makeup. "Oh sorry sorry!" He jumps up, as though startled he's stayed that long, "I'll leave you to it then, Y/N. Thank you so much for the makeup." "Oh no worries," your heart drops slightly at the thought that you'll never get the chance to talk to him like this again. But before you have time to dwell on that fact, another colleague is asking for a vampire kind of look. You lose sight of Jacob for most of the night, though small glimpses of his handsome figure is enough to entertain your little fantasy. You try not to feel so disheartened, knowing full well that there's not even a single strand of hope that he'll even look at you that way. Hell, he doesn' t even look at you. Stop being stupid, you tell yourself sharply. Nothing's never going to happen. He's probably already taken, idiot. "I'm going home," you mutter to your colleague as another song blasts through the stereo hall. The group protests but you shake your head and quietly slip out to leave all the noise behind, the night air welcoming you with its fresh chilly air. A soft sigh falls from your lips when you close your eyes for a brief moment. A car honks in the distance, you pay no mind. Let's go home, you think to yourself, body turning towards the subway station. You walk a few steps, only to hear another honk, closer this time. You stop and turn, a frown stitching your eyebrows together upon noticing a car pull up next to you. You're surprised to see Jacob's face greet you when the window rolls down. You blink at him. "Need a ride?" --------- That is how you find yourself sitting in Mcdonald's parking lot a few minutes later with warm food takeaways in your lap and the smell of fries wafting through the air, chatting with a man whom you'd deemed unapproachable for the past few months and realizing that there is so much more to what you see to him on a daily basis. You'd be lying to say that you don't feel your heart staggering every time he looks at you with those beautiful mahogany orbs that seem to hold galaxies. "I never used to celebrate Halloween," Jacob is saying as he pops a chip into his mouth, "my mother hates it, says it's useless to be celebrating an event that rouses the dead." "Technically, she's right." "Yeah, my five year old self didn't think so though." "You managed to celebrate in college?" He nods before pulling a face, "first and last time I drank till I puked." "That sounds fun," sarcasm drips from your voice before you laugh softly at the tongue he pulls out sat you. It's so easy to talk to him, too easy. It scares you, this foreign uninvited sensation of something fluttering through your ribcage as if you're constantly sitting on a swing that is going too fast for you. You talk about school, about where you come from, about how you sometimes miss your parents dearly and how hard it was at first, to be away from home for so long. And then he tells you about growing up, about his childhood dream of becoming a basketball player, one that broke the moment he realized it'd be much harder to actually get into the professional league. And then it quickly drifts to the troubles of life itself, to the nostalgia of losing friends when you grow up, to discussing multiple theories about what the future holds. "Woah, it's late," Your eyes widen in realization when you spot the time upon his dashboard. 3:30.a.m. "Oh," his own eyes go round, "shit I'm sorry. I didn't want to keep yo--" "No no, it's okay. I had fun," you smile softly at him while recalling yiur conversation, "I'm glad we got to talk." Relief breaks out as a sigh through of his lips, "that's good to know," his eyes find yours then, bathed in the reflection of the cheap streetlight hanging over your car, but you realise that it doesn't matter, for Jacob is ephemerally beautiful and carries that around with him wherever he goes. Your heart tugs when you realise that the night will have to end at some point, watching him pull out of the parking lot while asking you for directions to your house. The night started out with no expectations, with the sense that you can't breathe around the people you're surrounded with. Yet, this moment feels like a gust of oxygen bursting through your lungs. "Can I say something?" Jacob's voice pulls you out of your reverie as he turns onto your street, glancing over at you out of the corner of his eye. You hum for him to continue. He does after a few beats of hesitation. "You know you can talk to me, even if we're at the office," his murmur is so soft you barely catch it. You look at him in surprise, not expecting such words to fall from his lips. But the look he gives you is one that makes heat spread throughout your chest in parallel to the heat covering your cheeks. He continues, "I know that a lot of people are scared of me, because of what they think I might do considering my privileges. But take that title away and I'm just like everyone else." At this point, his vehicle wheels to a stop right before your front door and he turns his head so that your gazes clash, dark obsidian filled with a gentleness that you can't quite explain, though it causes your heartbeat to stutter. You gaze back though, trying to decipher the way his face softens and the tender way his lips are curved into a half-smile, as if you're sharing a private joke. "Well," you clear your throat, head whipping towards your door and hand finding the car handle, "I guess that's my stop." Biting your lip and debating whether to follow through with the aftermath of his words haunting your ears, you quickly turn back to him, "I don't think you're that kind of person. I don't think you could ever go behind someone's back just for the sheer fun of it," you see his gaze widen with surprise, "So don't worry about that." Jacob just stares at you in the pause that follows. You stare back, mentally debating whether you should just throw yourself out of the window for being so stupid or whether to ask the said man himself to run you over, so mortified at the prospect of having said such a thing that your orbs immediately drop to your lap. "I ...thank you," comes Jacob's whisper, "that...nobody has ever said that before." "A--Anyway, I should probably go--" you quickly scramble to open the car door only to be stopped by his hand swinging out to grab yours. "Wait," he says breathlessly, "I--Do you want to--you know maybe do this again? Sometime? I--" a shy smile dances across his lips, "I had fun, Y/N." Your heart swells. Your neck flushes with heat as your eyes drop to the ground, "I had fun too," you mumble, allowing his hand to slide down your arm until it reaches yours. His fingers, as soft as a dove's touch, gently twine around yours like vines and a breath catches in your throat. Jesus, he's perfect. "Yeah," your murmur, "I'd like to do this again." You don't want to look at him. You can't look at him, for you know that once you do there'll be no mistaking the blatant effect he has on you, and that is something you wish to keep to yourself a little longer. But that thought flies out of the window the moment you feel the softest of caresses upon your knuckles. Head shooting up to catch Jacob's lips skimming over the back of your head, a shiver runs through your spine the moment your eyes lock with all the feelings you've been attempting to cast aside for most of the night. "Great," he grins against your hand, "I'll pick you up at seven tomorrow?"

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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Signed, Sealed, Delivered, Chapter 4 (Crygi, Jan x Nicky) - Joley

ao3 link

Crystal was excited for today; it was probably the best part of pretending to be engaged, enough to make her wonder why she hadn’t thought of this sooner. Today, she and Gigi were going wedding cake testing. They had lined up three different bakeries after finding out which ones didn’t charge for the consultation, and they had just arrived at bakery number one.

“I’m not very picky about flavor or anything, I’ll try whatever you recommend,” Crystal was saying. “However, my wife-to-be here especially loves red velvet, but doesn’t really like chocolate, which is weird to me, but we’ll probably go with what she wants.”

When the baker went into the kitchen, Gigi turned to Crystal with a surprised expression. “How did you know my cake preferences?”

Crystal shrugged. “You’ve mentioned it a couple of times, and I know you always get excited when they have red velvet muffins in the dining hall.”

“Oh,” Gigi felt a fluttering in her heart that she couldn’t – or rather wouldn’t – explain. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and looked down. “Well, you’re more observant than I give you credit for, then.”

“I get that a lot,” she mused, then sat upright when the test slices were brought out. She tried to listen to the descriptions, but she was practically salivating and dug in as soon as she could. “Now the texture of this is really nice, I like how it brings out the subtle flavor notes.”

Gigi covered her mouth to hide a laugh. “You’ll have to excuse her, she binge-watched Cake Wars last night,” she explained, gently patting Crystal’s thigh. After that, they got through the rest of the tasting without incident, and they told the baker they’d be in touch and left with the leftovers (that they hid in Gigi’s oversized purse so they could go and do the same at the next two bakeries).

Crystal patted her stomach in satisfaction as they made their way back to her apartment. “I can’t believe we never thought to pull a stunt like this before. It’s like telling the waiter it’s your birthday so they give you free ice cream or something,” she mused.

“I feel kinda bad though, we should order something from those places. Just, you know, not a wedding cake,” she added.

“Oh yeah, for sure,” Crystal readily agreed. “So, did you hear back from your friend about doing a photoshoot?”

Gigi nodded, smiling brightly. “Yeah, thanks for reminding me, actually. Does Saturday afternoon work for you?”

She nodded. “Totally. How’s it gonna work? Like, are we gonna be in our dresses, or is it gonna be something different? I don’t know how this works.”

“We’ll do some in the dresses, some in different outfits. It’ll give me the motivation to finish the fucking thing so I don’t try to pull an all-nighter right before it’s due,” she decided. As they kept walking, her hand kept brushing against Crystal’s, until she just caved and held her hand. It wasn’t like she hadn’t before, but it felt different this time. Holding Crystal’s hand had never made her heart skip a beat before, and she was yet to figure out how much she liked that.

It was different for Crystal. She already knew how she felt, and maybe that made it easier for her. She could allow herself to just appreciate the small act of affection, even though she did have to look away when she started smiling too wide. She probably wouldn’t try to overanalyze it until she was alone, at least. All she could do at the moment was appreciate being close to her, as it never seemed she could get close enough.

They’d both stopped thinking about it by the time they got home, and Crystal put the cake in the fridge, shooing away the cat at her feet. “Not a chance, Tic Tac, the vet already says you’re getting too fat.”

“Don’t body-shame her,” Gigi playfully chastised.

“I’m just being a concerned mother,” Crystal insisted, then looked over towards Jan’s room. She heard her voice, but couldn’t distinguish the words. “Ah, she must be working on the French song.”

Gigi tilted her head. “I’m gonna take a shot in the dark and assume it’s for Nicky, huh?” She let out a small laugh, though not in a mean way. “She’s… really crazy about her, huh?”

Jan came out of the room before Crystal could answer. “Hey, guys. How did the cake tasting go?”

“Great, there are leftovers in the fridge if you wanna pick at them,” Crystal offered. “How’s your song coming along? What’s it called again?”

“It’s called Aimé by Loane. I haven’t looked up the English translation, I feel like that kind of ruins it, you know? But when I heard it, it just made me think of Nicky, like deep in my heart, I just know it works,” Jan explained.

Gigi chewed on her lip, fighting back her words until she couldn’t anymore. “I’m sorry, I just don’t get it. How can you be so head over heels over someone you’ve never been in the same room with?”

Jan didn’t seem terribly bothered by this question, it wasn’t a new one to her. “She’s not written in braille, Gigi. I don’t need to touch her to know her.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ve got an emotional connection,” Gigi assured. “But have you even been with anyone since you guys started talking? Or are you really saving yourself for someone across the ocean? We all crave physical intimacy, you know?”

“Are you coming onto me?” Jan asked in an attempt to deflect. She glanced over at Crystal, whose face said ‘don’t you dare.’ to which she silently conveyed ‘I would never.’

Gigi didn’t notice any of that, just laughing it off. “I’m just saying you shouldn’t deprive yourself because you’re too busy pining to get laid.”

Jan chuckled softly. “I appreciate your concern about my sexual wellbeing, Geege. But I can take care of myself, and anyone else that comes along,” she glanced back towards the fridge. “I am gonna have my way with that leftover cake, though.”

Ever since Crystal and Jan had embarked on this unusual adventure, they had gotten closer. And they needed it, considering they had both been driving themselves crazy trying to pull off this scheme while they were in the midst of taking their finals. The end was around the corner, but trying to get through the final stretch left them tense and exhausted. So when they didn’t want to bother their respective love interests, they turned to each other.

“I keep thinking about what Gigi said,” Jan admitted as she passed the joint back to Crystal. She had never considered herself any sort of smoker, but Crystal was so comfortable with weed that it didn’t seem so scary, and it had actually become something that helped her unwind as well.

Crystal furrowed her brows as she took a hit, letting the smoke billow out in an O shape. “What? About you not getting laid because you’re always in your feelings about Nicky?”

“That’s one way to put it, yeah,” Jan chuckled softly, laying her head in Crystal’s lap. “Am I limiting myself just because of my feelings? It’d be different if we were in an actual relationship but… I don’t know. Have you hooked up with anyone since you realized you have a crush on Gigi?”

Crystal had to stop and think about it. “I… guess not, actually. Maybe that’s why we’ve been so fucking weird about all of this,” she mused.

Jan propped her feet up against the wall. “You think if we found someone to have a one-night stand with, we’d be able to get through finals, graduation, and the fake wedding with our sanity intact?”

“I dunno, I’m not a doctor,” Crystal shrugged. “But I do know sex releases endorphins and shit, like, all that good energy and stuff,” she mused and passed the joint back to Jan.

“Ugh, finding a good hookup is so much work,” she whined and took a hit, then gave it back to Crystal to finish off.

Crystal rolled her eyes affectionately as she finished it off. “I mean, it can’t be that hard for you, looking like that.”

“Just being a lesbian makes it hard, Crystal. You know that.” Jan huffed dramatically, then looked up at her. “I think we should make out.” It was the perfect solution, wasn’t it? If it was her, it wouldn’t count.

“Do you?” Crystal wasn’t as surprised by the suggestion as she thought she’d be, nor was she terribly put off by it. She and Jan were close, and they were going through the same struggles. Maybe this was what they needed to let off some steam. “Yeah, okay, I’m into it.”

Jan sat up, then moved onto Crystal’s lap. She rested her hands on the back of her head, fingers tangling in the mess of curly hair as their lips collided in a languid kiss. The lingering taste of pot was in their mouths, and Jan swore kissing her made her even more high.

Crystal loved the way Jan felt on top of her. She was soft and warm and she smelled so nice. Her arms looked around Jan’s waist, holding her close as the kiss deepened, their tongues intertwining.

“You’re a good kisser,” Jan observed when she came up for air, their foreheads still resting together. She then sat back, noticing Crystal’s grin and downcast gaze. “What?”

“Hm?” Crystal looked back up, her eyes a bit bloodshot and glossed over, but still full of the lighthearted joy that’d always been distinct to her. “Oh, I was just looking at your tits. They’re really nice,” she explained.

Jan snorted with laughter, then rested her head on Crystal’s shoulder as she giggled some more. “You’re such a perv!”

“You can’t call me a perv,” she pouted as if she took sincere offense, “it was your idea to start making out, you can’t fault me for getting more into it, especially when you know I get hornier when I’m high,” she defended.

“Oh my god,” Jan sat back upright, shaking her head. “Sometimes I forget that there’s a horndog underneath that quirky art student facade,” she teased.

Crystal shrugged, placing kisses up Jan’s chest and neck, then up her jaw until she lightly nipped at her earlobe. “I’m enigmatic, Jan. Get into it,” she cooed as her hands ran up and down Jan’s sides, making her tank top rise up a couple of inches, then shifted to playfully bite Jan’s bottom lip.

“You sure are something,” Jan chuckled before connecting their lips in another kiss. “You’re lucky I’m so touch-starved,” she added as she took her top off.

Crystal’s face lit up like an excited child. “Whatever you say,” she hummed, her hands moving right to Jan’s breasts, happily groping them over the purple lace of her bra as they went right back to their deep, relaxed kissing.

Jan took Crystal’s t-shirt off next, looking down at her bare chest. “I keep forgetting that you have your nipple pierced. It’s so pretty,” she remarked, lightly pinching and teasing it, rubbing it between her fingers. She had started to zone out, and it wasn’t until Crystal started moaning that she was brought back down to earth. “Guess it makes things more intense, huh?”

“Yeah,” she exhaled, “and we’re gonna end up doing a lot more than making out if you keep that up.”

“I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but threatening to fuck me isn’t exactly… a threat,” Jan smirked as she continued toying with her nipple and the piercing.

Crystal pushed Jan onto the bed and pounced on top of her. It wasn’t in a dominant way, if anything, it bordered on playful. She kissed Jan heatedly, her hands haphazardly fumbling to get her bra off, smiling to herself when she finally tossed it onto the floor. She trailed her lips down Jan’s neck, starting to nip at the skin until Jan grabbed her shoulder.

“Nothing above the bust,” she murmured.

Crystal obliged, instead of leaving a hickey on the underside of Jan’s breast, then let her tongue flick across and swirl around her nipple. She then rolled the two of them onto their sides, making it easier for her to tug off Jan’s shorts. “You have a great ass too,” she remarked, reaching her hand around and grabbing onto it.

“You think so? I’ve actually always been jealous of yours,” Jan told Crystal as she tugged her shorts off too. “It’s so cute and perky,” she hummed, squeezing it with both hands.

“We’re clearly both super hot,” Crystal observed. “Like, I bet people would pay to watch us fuck,” she mused as she slid her hand into Jan’s panties and began circling her clit with two fingers.

“Mhm,” Jan moaned instead of properly replying, tugging Crystal’s boyshorts down and moving her hand between her thighs to do the same. “Fuck, you’re so wet. That piercing really does make your nipple sensitive, huh?”

Crystal grunted softly and rutted against Jan’s fingers. “You’re just jealous you have to work harder to get turned on,” she retorted as she eased a finger into her.

“Seem to be doing just fine right now aren’t I?” Jan hummed between moans. The two of them mirrored each other’s movements, whimpering and moaning as their fingers steadily thrust into each other, thumbs rubbing uneven circles against each other’s clits.

And then it started to turn into a competition, the two of them trying to get the other to come first. Eventually, Jan won, smirking in satisfaction as she felt her friend clench around her fingers. But she didn’t last much longer, gasping out sharply as she came.

Once they were both spent, they lay calmly in bed, cuddled up to each other. “Do you feel any better?” Jan asked.

“I think so, actually,” Crystal mused. “The feelings are still there, but they don’t seem so scary, you know?”

Jan nodded. “I don’t feel so overwhelmed,” she agreed, then leaned up and kissed her cheek. “Thanks, you’re such a good friend.”

Crystal beamed and held her close. “And don’t you forget it.”

Heidi stared blankly at Jan after hearing the rundown of her situation. “So… You lied to your French not-girlfriend by inviting her to Crystal and Gigi’s wedding that isn’t real, but Crystal has a big ol’ crush on Gigi, and now the three of y’all are staging a whole ass fake wedding while you’re still taking finals?”

“I only have one final left,” Jan defended, rubbing the back of her neck. “Also, last night Crystal and I got high and had sex.”

She blinked slowly. “First of all, why the fuck are you telling me this?”

“Because if I told Jackie, she would keep trying to solve the problem and be all lecture-y about it. And like, I know you’re gonna judge me too, but at least I don’t feel as stupid when you do it.”

“I feel like I should be offended by that,” Heidi murmured. “Second of all, what the fuck are you gonna do when Nicky comes out here. You just gonna be like ‘sike, gotcha!’ or something?”

Jan sighed and looked down at her cup, sipping from it for a couple of moments. “I don’t know, honestly. I was thinking of telling her that Gigi and Crystal decided to postpone it because they’re too young. That makes sense, right?”

Heidi shrugged. “Well, I don’t have any better ideas,” she admitted, then furrowed her brows. “Wait, why did you have sex with Crystal? Am I missing something here?”

“Because we’ve both been losing sleep and getting super stressed over everything piling up, and neither of us wanted to go through the process of finding another girl to hook up with. So, we just… had each other. It’s not gonna make things weird, our friendship isn’t like that,” Jan explained as she finished her drink.

“Damn, I need to find me a friend like that,” she chuckled, finishing her drink as well. “Do I at least get an invite to the fake wedding?”

Jan laughed softly. “Yeah, you’re totally fake invited to the fake wedding.”

Heidi beamed brightly. “Thank you. Hey, can I see a picture of your little croissant boo? I wanna see what the hell’s causing all of this fuss.”

“Oh, yeah, here, she just sent me her new headshots,” Jan hummed, getting her phone out and pulling the pictures up before handing her phone over.

She studied the pictures thoughtfully, nodding slowly. “Okay, yeah, I get it. I’d throw my closest friends into a whirlwind of chaos over that too,” she decided, handing the phone back to Jan. “I think you should tell her how you feel before she gets here, though.”

Jan tilted her head as she put her phone away. “You do? Why?”

“Think about it, if she feels the same, you guys will be distracted and shacked up in your room, and maybe she’ll forget about the whole thing. And if she doesn’t, you can throw out the whole plan ‘cause it won’t matter. It’s a win-win, how has this not occurred to you?”

There was silence as Jan chewed her lip, mulling it over. “I… Yeah, I guess you have a point. I don’t know.” She exhaled deeply and looked up to the sky. “I’ll think about it.”

#rpdr fanfiction #jan sport #nicky doll #gigi goode #crystal methyd #crygi #jan x nicky #lesbian au #university au #college au #smut #signed sealed delivered #joley #s12

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missjanjie · 4 years ago

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Signed, Sealed, Delivered | (4/?)

Title: Signed, Sealed, Delivered Summary: Jan is in love with her French pen pal, Nicky. Her roommate, Crystal, is in love with her best friend, Gigi. A (perhaps ill-thought out) plan emerges: give Nicky a reason to visit by inviting her to Crystal and Gigi’s wedding. With a month to pull the scheme together, no one knows how this will end up. Word Count: ~2.9k (this chapter) / ~11.6k (total) Relationship(s): Sportsdoll (Jan Sport/Nicky Doll), Crygi (Crystal Methyd/Gigi Goode, Sportsmethyd (Jan Sport/Crystal Methyd) Rating: E

Read on AO3

When the baker went into the kitchen, Gigi turned to Crystal with a surprised expression. “How did you know my cake preferences?”

Crystal shrugged. “You’ve mentioned it a couple of times, and I know you always get excited when they have red velvet muffins in the dining hall.”

“I feel kinda bad though, we should order something from those places. Just, you know, not a wedding cake,” she added.

“Oh yeah, for sure,” Crystal readily agreed. “So, did you hear back from your friend about doing a photoshoot?”

Gigi nodded, smiling brightly. “Yeah, thanks for reminding me, actually. Does Saturday afternoon work for you?”

She nodded. “Totally. How’s it gonna work? Like, are we gonna be in our dresses, or is it gonna be something different? I don’t know how this works.”

“Don’t body-shame her,” Gigi playfully chastised.

Gigi tilted her head. “I’m gonna take a shot in the dark and assume it’s for Nicky, huh?” She let out a small laugh, though not in a mean way. “She’s… really crazy about her, huh?”

Jan came out of the room before Crystal could answer. “Hey, guys. How did the cake tasting go?”

“Great, there are leftovers in the fridge if you wanna pick at them,” Crystal offered. “How’s your song coming along? What’s it called again?”

Jan didn’t seem terribly bothered by this question, it wasn’t a new one to her. “She’s not written in braille, Gigi. I don’t need to touch her to know her.”

“Are you coming onto me?” Jan asked in an attempt to deflect. She glanced over at Crystal, whose face said ‘don’t you dare.’ to which she silently conveyed ‘I would never.’

Gigi didn’t notice any of that, just laughing it off. “I’m just saying you shouldn’t deprive yourself because you’re too busy pining to get laid.”

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