#finn cole fanfiction

[cigaretteslutz]

cigaretteslutz' masterlists

hi hi hello! this is my collection of writing organized into one spot so that you don't have to search around for my works! under this you will find my rules for requests, and the different things you can request. (im not the best at this so pls be nice)

rules;

things i will NOT write: pee/scat/puke, abortion/forced abortion/miscarriages, things with no consent, addiction, actual wrestlers fucking each other (unless its a 3some with the reader but other then that no), things featuring age play/little space, incest/step-cest. if you request any of these you're blocked.

if you make a request and want a wrestler to have a child, please give their name and age because im not using anybody's REAL child in a fanfic thats just...😭

things i WILL write: marriage/divorce, pregnancy, violence, mommy/daddy kinks, praise/degradation kinks, rough sex (??), more to come as i write

please dont translate or steal my work! i work hard on these and if i want my work to be translated, i will ask someone, but as of right now no.

who i write for/request inspo;

wwe: austin theory brie bella cm punk cody rhodes cora jade damien priest dominik mysterio drew mcintyre finn balor grayson waller jade cargill john cena la knight liv morgan logan paul maryse miz nikki bella randy orton rhea ripley ridge holland roman reigns seth rollins aew: alicia atout (my friend held a gun to my head and forced me to add her. you know who you are) adam cole adam copeland adam page bryan danielson buddy matthews claudio castagnoli darby allin hook jay white kenny omega kyle o'reilly mjf orange cassidy sammy guevara saraya tay melo wardlow

inspo: officer porn star/cam star professor pirate/mermaid ex-partner single parents model actress sorority/frat princess/prince/king

if you like my work, please consider following me! comment if you would like to be added to the tag list !!

[finn-m-corvex]

Whumptober 2023 Day 1 - "How many fingers am I holding up?"

Hello everyone, and welcome to Finn's Whumptober! This is the first of the past fifteen days to come out, and the other fourteen will be releasing every hour on the hour! I've put an incredible amount of work into making these (the first batch is like. 30k words alone-) so if you guys have been craving some of my content, here you go! You're getting plenty nowadays!

GENERAL TWS FOR THE ENTIRETY OF MY STORIES: blood, vomit, beatings, assault, bullying, kinda gorey at some points, other stuff just be careful. I'll go back through and tag each individually if I need to!

Since I'm scheduling these, I won't have the opportunity to add anyone but @splinnters to the tag list, but there's going to be so many of them that I feel like it's going to be easy to find. Hope you enjoy reading all of these as much as I enjoyed writing them!

Words: 2.1k

Jay was bored.

Who knew working a party could be so mind-numbingly boring? The point of parties was to let loose and have fun, and yet here he was, stuck in a dumb stuffy suit in the corner only watching as everyone got more and more drunk off their asses. He sipped at his disappointedly non-alcoholic punch, pretending like he was keeping a careful eye over the rest of the patrons as they danced.

Getting called to watch Cyrus Borg’s work functions was one of the worst things to happen to him in recent times.

“Check in, everyone,” Lloyd said over the comm, and Jay tapped his foot against the ground as he waited for everyone else to sound off. Cole was standing on the entire other side of the room, and Jay had long since given up trying to hold a mime’s version of a conversation with his brother when the earth ninja only gave him an unimpressed stare after the first gesture. At least he was stuck in here with his best friend rather than Kai or Zane; knowing them, he would’ve gotten a full lecture rather than just a look.

A crackle, and then his beautiful Yang’s angelic voice. “Kai and I are clear.”

Part of Jay wanted to chime in and talk to her with a casual conversation about guest gossip, but he had already gotten in enough trouble tonight; he couldn’t start pushing it.

Zane and Pixal both spoke, and then it was Cole’s turn. “Jay and I are clear, although someone needs to start laying off the punch. He’s already almost spilled on himself more than once.”

“Hey!” Jay exclaimed, but he still kept it down so no one would start listening in. It pleased him immensely to hear Nya giggle over the comm, and it took every bit of self-restraint to keep from playing up the act. “I’m doing just fine, thank you very much.”

“Sure you are, bro,” Cole rolled his eyes across the room, and Jay felt his power start to flicker under his skin in frustration. Pushing the lightning down, Jay huffed, checking in with Lloyd before going back to his self-assigned duty of people-watching. At least he had a nice spot next to the punch table.

It wasn’t very long before someone bumped into him, causing his drink to slosh around and over the rim of his glass. Jay turned to face whoever it was, ready to give them a piece of his mind for almost getting punch on his nice shoes (seriously, they were brand-new!), but he stopped when he remembered that these people were all civillians and he did have to at least make an effort to be nice.

Unfortunately.

“I’m so sorry about that,” the stranger said, flashing his pearly whites and readjusting his cuffs. Jay’s danger sense was going off, and he resisted every urge in his body that was screaming for him to run far away from here. This was just a normal guy, so why was he feeling like this?

“Don’t worry about it, no harm done,” Jay chuckled, masking his discomfort with ease. It was one of his most used skills, especially in social situations.

“Surely you wouldn’t mind if I just got you another glass? Anything for a great hero of Ninjago!”

Never accept drinks from strangers, dear, he could hear his Ma say, and Jay always heeded the advice his mother gave him after the Underwear Incident.

He shook his head. “No thank you, don’t worry about it. Go enjoy the festivities, please, I insist.”

A rather cold goodbye for the sociable lightning ninja; Jay hoped that no one else would notice so it wouldn’t end up on the media. What a mess to clean up that would be, and the others already made enough messes online. The man huffed as if Jay had personally offended him, stalking off into the crowd where Jay’s eyes couldn’t be bothered to follow him. Frowning, Jay took another sip of his drink, only to bring it away from his mouth in confusion.

Why did it taste different?

Must be my lightning, Jay thought to himself as he drank it, noticing the previously sweet taste switching to salty. His lightning tended to change his taste buds whenever he suppressed it, just another little quirk of having powers, so this was just another case of that happening.

It definitely wasn’t the case fifteen minutes later.

Jay kept getting dizzier and dizzier as time passed, leaning back on the pillar and relying on it to keep him stable. Everything around him was spinning, the low lights blurring into vague patterns and swirling around on the floor at a speed that he couldn’t comprehend. He could feel the sweat gathering on the back of his neck, hot and sticking to his shirt collar. There were nails being driven into his temples, and he winced as the crowd suddenly cheered when Cyrus Borg came out on the other side of the room to start his speech. Pixal and Zane were on the stage with him, and Jay had to keep himself from screaming as the spotlights followed the three as they walked.

Up until now, he had hesitated everytime his hand went to his comm; he had already pissed Cole off once or twice, he shouldn’t say anything unless it was an absolute emergency.

His vision blacked out for a second, and Jay was suddenly hyperaware of everything happening around him. This wasn’t normal; this was an emergency.

“Cole,” Jay said, swallowing back the spit in his mouth that threatened to spill down his lips. Why couldn’t he feel his lips? Why did his throat feel like it was clogging up with something?

Reaching up with an arm, his brother looked quite bored. “What is it now, Jay?”

“Something’s wrong.”

Jay must’ve forgotten to switch to their private channel, because Lloyd’s voice came through the tinny speaker. “Jay, what’s wrong?”

“I-I’m dizzy,” Jay couldn’t keep himself from stuttering, and he started panicking as his knee gave out from under him. What the hell was in his drink?

Starting to push through the crowd, he could barely pick Cole out from the crowd, only hearing the earth ninja’s voice through his earpiece. “Jay, Jay did you drink something-”

And Jay was crashing to the floor.

Head smacking against the ground, Jay was coughing up spit, reeling from the loud gasp that surged through the crowd at the sight of one of the Ninja collapsing. Even though this was far from the first time that he had hit his head, he still found himself dizzier than before, struggling to ground himself in the forest of suit pants and dresses that he was stuck in. His hands were shaking as they tried to push him up, and he cried out as his elbows stopped working and his head hit the ground again.

Why couldn’t he feel his legs? Panic swarmed through his chest as he tried to wiggle his toes, but he couldn’t tell if it was working.

First Master, he was drugged.

“Move!” he heard two voices at once; one voice in the earpiece and the other through the ear not smushed against the tile. “Move out of the way!”

Other voices were clammering around him, and Jay would’ve yelled for them all to shut up if his tongue didn’t feel like it was a piece of cotton stuffed into his mouth. He was pretty sure he was drooling all on the floor, and he could feel the excess dribbling down his chin when rough hands pulled him upright.

There was Cole, face pinched in worry and hurriedly speaking into his comm. “I have him, he just collapsed and I don’t know why. Shut down the exits and get Borg out of here-”

Jay had to stop listening as the spotlights focused directly into his eyes, and he slammed his eyelids shut as if that were going to do anything. Cole was quick to block out the light, but the damage had been done; Jay leaned to the side and vomited, red punch spurting from his lips along with the small finger sandwiches that he had chowed down on earlier. Some of it landed on some poor patron’s shoes, and Jay opened his mouth to apologize only to upchuck more of his guts. His stomach heaved under the weight of his anxiety, feeling the voices around him change to a disgusted pitch, and the feeling of knowing that all of these strangers were seeing one of their protectors collapse and throw up like some drunkard made him flush with shame.

Something hauled him up from under the armpits, and suddenly he was on the move. Cole was taking him somewhere.

“Can’t take you anywhere without shit hitting the fan,” Cole grumbled, and Jay could feel the tears stinging at his eyes in protest. He didn’t mean for this to happen!

But was it his fault anyway? Could he have done anything to stop the man?

He was sat on some cheap chair a few hallways down, and Jay couldn’t move his arms or legs to try and readjust himself, the numbness spreading from his chest outwards. Cole pressed a warm hand to Jay’s forehead, feeling his cheeks and the back of his neck.

Jay felt so ashamed when he couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks. “Cole, Cole-”

“What happened, Jay?” Cole asked, a serious expression on his face. He reached up to start thumbing away the tears. “Are you drunk? I promise you aren’t in trouble if you are, things happen.”

He shook his head as best as he could. “No, someone spiked it.”

Mouth agape, Cole clicked it shut, fury overtaking his features. “Who. The. Fuck. Spiked your drink?”

“A guy, he ran into me and must’ve put it in my punch,” Jay let out a small sob as the spinning room sped up. “I-I’m so sorry.”

“The only thing you have to be sorry for is not telling me sooner,” Cole stressed, cupping his brother’s cheek when Jay’s head lulled to the side. “First Master, is this why you were so fidgety? I knew something was wrong; I’m the one who should be saying sorry to you.”

Shaking his head, Jay felt the shame swell up even further. “It’s not your fault-”

“No, but I’m still your brother, and I should’ve checked in the moment I thought something was wrong.” Cole clicked his tongue, thumb brushing against Jay’s jaw in a way that had his heart aching. “I gotta check how bad it is, bluebell. How many fingers am I holding up?”

If Jay was being completely honest, it looked like twelve, so that’s exactly what he said. Cole’s worried face was not reassuring in the slightest.

Nya’s voice flowed into his ear, and Jay sobbed. He wanted her, he wanted her so bad. “Jay, honey, I need you to talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“Some asshat spiked his drink,” Cole said briskly, shrugging off his suit jacket and draping it over Jay after seeing how hard the blue ninja was shaking. “He’s still conscious, but I don’t think he’s moving anytime soon. We’re in the hallway off to the left of the main room.”

Finally, the severity of the situation hit Jay: he had been drugged. Someone had deliberately sought him out and messed with his drink with ill intentions that Jay could only dream of, even though those dreams would actually be nightmares.

The thought of what could’ve happened if Cole hadn’t seen him go down made him sick to his stomach.

“I’ll be right there,” and Jay felt his lip start to wobble as the sobs rushed up his throat, because he wanted Nya here now and he was scared and he was too cold but too hot at the same time and he couldn’t move and Cole was mad at him and why was his vision tunneling and oh shit was it always this hard to breathe-

A hand tangled itself in his hair, gently freeing it from its prison of hair products as Jay gasped for air. “Stay with me, Bluejay. Nya’s on her way and then we’re getting you out of here. You’re gonna go home and we’re going to spoil you rotten, okay?”

His hands scrambled for something to hang onto, his fingertips unfeeling, and Cole was quick to put his other warm hand into Jay’s as he readjusted the makeshift blanket over Jay’s form. It wasn’t nearly as good as a shock blanket would’ve been but beggars can’t be choosers. Jay forced his body forward, landing clumsily on Cole’s chest as the earth ninja quickly compensated for the extra weight. “I want Nya.”

There was yelling from the main room that made it hard for Jay to hear what Cole was saying. “I know buddy, she’ll be here soon. I’m going to hold you just like this for a little while, okay?”

“Okay,” Jay whispered, feeling the tears start to soak into his brother’s suit, and First Master he hoped it was going to be okay. 

[virgoilluminati]

A/N; Hello, so I’m currently very burnt out due to exams and literally can barely write anything. That’s why I have decided to redo this whole tumblr page and start from scratch. But I have seen these social media things all over tumblr and really wanted to give it a go with my faves. This one is obviously about my loverrrr finn cole 💕 but I want to do lots of different ones based on whoever you guys would want to see. I wanna give credit to some of the people that I saw do this before on here (please go check them out because they are all so lovely) and say thank you because you have become my inspiration ❣️there are so many but here are my main inspo a @http-alexademie, @happy4harry @tillthelandslide @pancakes4two. I literally just love this idea and found it so fun to do, so thank youuuu 💕

Context: Y/N played Jules Solomans - Alfie Solomans daughter in the last two seasons of Peaky Blinders. Jules and Micheal are basically a couple (instead of Gina). This is set at the BAFTAs, that happened last night, if hypothetically peaky blinders got nominated for awards and y/n got nominated for supporting actor. (Which IRL Cillian Murphy was ROBBED from). Enjoy xx

______________________________________________________

@ finn_cole

Liked by @ yourinstagram, @ peakyblindersofficial & 890,000 more

@ finn_cole: Bafta ready, with the help of @britishvogue, feeling especially amazing tonight. Best of luck to all nominated ✌🏻

View all 45,000 comments

@finncolefanacc: He’s so pretty 😍 someone please wife him up!

@boceybocey: best of luck mate

@ finn_cole: @boceybocey, not the same without you.

@peakyblinderdaily: damn, it sucks paul can’t be there the one time peaky got nominated :(

@peakyblindersfan1: I can’t believe that peaky blinders finally got the recognition they deserved!! Please give our boys the win! #BAFTA

@ joecole: getting the band back together

@ cillianmurphyofficial : @joecole, can’t wait. Been a while.

@yourinstagram: best of luck Micheal Grey x

@finncoleslay: wait, why is no one talking about @yourinstagram! Her comment I-

@yourinstagramfandaily: @yourinstagram, Gurl - you have some explaining to do-

@Johndeservedtolive: OMG, are theyyy—? No, they can’t be—. I—! Oh my gawddd I am going to faint…

@ yourinstagram

Liked by @ finn_cole, @ peakyblindersofficial and 2,300,000 others.

@ yourinstagram: thank you for all your love and support. I am so greatful to be nominated for supporting actress tonight. Love you all ❣️

View all 75,000 comments

@yourinstagramslayys: Your deserve it babes, literally her acting in peaky blinders, was phenomenal.

@Y/nisbae; slayyying as per usual 🔥

@JulesSolomonsisbae: Y/N for the winnnnnn 🥇

@florencepugh: good luck bestie, although you won’t need it.

@ yourinstagram: @florencepugh drinks on me, regardless.

@finncoleslay: THEY’RE BOTH WEARING BLACK. OML MATCHING OUTFITS ALREADY!!-

@ zendaya: 🔥🔥🔥

@ finncole: @ zendaya agreed.

@peakyblindersdailyyyy: - wait a damn minute…. Now wait a damn minute

@ finn&yn: It’s happening, oh my god it’s happening - everyone calm. Don’t panic I-I

@ yourinstagram

Liked by @ cillianmurphyofficial , @finn_cole and 3,450,000 others

@ yourinstagram: Thank you, that’s all I can say. From the bottom of my heart. This has been a dream come true. I have no words.

View all 130,000 comments

@Peakyblindersofficial: Congratulations, our Jules always and forever.

@ cillianmurphyofficial: Well deserved, absolute pleasure to have worked alongside you for the last three years, what adventures to come! ❣️

@ joecole: Y/N strikes again! Absolutely brilliant.

@ florencepugh: Absolute legend, drinks are on me.

@ yourinstagram: @ florencepugh thats a first. Damn I must’ve done well.

@julessolomansslayys: So proud! So proud!

@ y/nmybae: I AM SO HAPPY AHHHHHH

@ finncole: beautiful award for a beautiful girl.

@ yourusername: @ finncole thank you, glad I have such a handsome man by my side

@ finn&y/n: it’s official guys! Oh my god. Oh my god.

@ peakyblindersofficial

Liked by @ finn_cole, @bafta, @ cillianmurphyofficial and 13,980,000 others

@ peakyblindersofficial: Well, we may not have won the best crime drama award, but our congratulations go to our very own, @ yourinstagram, who received her first ever BAFTA award tonight. Absolutely smashed it - always and forever our Jules Gray Solomans

View all 67,000 comments

@ yourinstagram: thank you for giving me the opportunity to play this amazing character. Will live with me forever. ❣️

@ y/nisbae: Yes, the queen deserves everything!!! 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

@Jules&Micheal: @ yourinstagram Thank you for being our role model. We are so proud.

@peakyblindersdailyyy: Cillian was ROBBED, but I am so proud of our girl. Couldn’t ask for anymore 💕💕

@ finncole: My Girl. ❣️

@ yourinstagram: @ finncole, I love you

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[melanie-amaya60]

Michael gray! 🖤

[of-twilight-and-moonshadow]

Bullet Club Reunion - Emery x BC/Elite

Part of my Dark Angel of the Bullet Club series

This... didn't go as I originally planned it would. Takes place somewhere around the 2021 area, summertime. Estimated.

This does kinda show where she met Damian and ELP though, which later leads to other chapters of theirs, Love Language (damian) and Comfortable Silence (ELP -- he does have more, just check the masterlist).

Summary: Emery attends meet-and-greet convention that is hosting all the companies; New Japan, WWE, AEW, ROH, Impact, and Indies. There, she gets to meet with fans and old friends-- and make new ones. But what happens when the bratty Dark Angel starts to slip out? Well, someone's gotta put her back in her place, of course.

Word Count: 3,249

Tag List: @summertimefun1982 @katries @blxxckheart @pleasantpastels @moxxieswitchblade

(switchie, I'm tagging you because of the antics near the end of this >>; )

Warnings: dom-sub vibes, other languages spoke (with translations provided by google), jealousy

(divider by)

Emery loved events like this. It allowed her the opportunity to connect with the fans, much like she was able to when she was sixteen. Her brown eyes would scan over each person she saw, keeping an eye peeled for anyone that could need a friend—like she had needed Kofi. Even though she hadn’t known she did, fate had decided for her and threw him into her life. For that, Emery was eternally grateful.

She was also grateful for the air-conditioned building the convention was being held in, as the hot, humid South Carolina summer sun was making it almost unbearable outside.

Emery had been to many different conventions and meet-and-greets, but this was the first she remembered being a part of that had people from all the wrestling companies. There were representatives from New Japan, Ring of Honor, Impact, All Elite, WWE, and multiple independents. It was nice, she had to admit, that they could all mingle and talk with one another—instead of some invisible barrier seemingly keeping them apart.

“Ready for a break?” Kenny asked her, looking to his right. They were sharing a table for the event, with Matt and Nick at a table beside them on Emery’s side. Brandon was roaming around the convention, sticking mostly with the Bucks to film bits for Being the Elite.

“Yeah, that’d be fine,” Emery nodded, looking over at the brothers, “You guys taking a break?”

“Might as well. My wrist is getting a little sore anyway,” Matt frowned, rolling the wrist in question in an attempt to soothe the bones and muscles. He had recently landed on it wrong during a match, resulting in a minor tear. It wasn’t enough to need surgery or a brace, but the doctor did tell him no wrestling for at least two weeks to ensure it healed properly.

Kenny and Nick put up the ‘Back Soon’ signs on their respective tables before they all got up and started walking around the large room, seeing who was there. Unfortunately, some of the wrestlers couldn’t make it to the event, so some spots were empty- but there were still a decent number of names there. Colt Cabana and Mark Sterling were among the AEW roster that couldn’t make their appearances, as well as Ring of Honor’s Dalton Castle and Impact’s Chelsea Green, Emery noticed as they passed by the ROH and Impact sections set up. Reaching the start of the WWE tables, she noticed a few empty spots but also saw several people she’d love to talk to.

The unfortunate part? She was way too shy to approach them.

Namely—Finn Balor. Emery was well aware he had created Bullet Club. Without him, there would BE no Bullet Club. She had also used inspiration from him for her Dark Angel persona, carefully watching all his matches where he would bring out the Demon.

Beside him sat Damian Priest, his fellow Judgement Day stable mate.

“Very attractive stable mate—" Emery blushed at the thought that crossed her mind, quickly looking away before he could see her ogling him.

“Haro, Finn,” Kenny greeted in Japanese as they passed by, giving him a respectful nod. (T: "Hello, Finn.")

“Hajimemashite, Kenny,” Finn smiled, “Dangan club wa atode 4ji koro ni issho ni atsumari masu.” (T: "Nice to see you, Kenny." "Bullet Club is meeting together later on, around four.")

“Karera wa? Tanoshi sou desu ne. Kaigi wa doko ni ari masu ka.” (T: "Are they? Sounds fun. Where is the meeting?")

The Bucks nudged one another as they watched Emery’s face drop into a frown as she tried translating the words. Japanese never was easy for her to learn, so for most of her time spent in New Japan, she heavily relied on Kenny to translate. They also knew, as did Kenny—and anyone who knew her, really—that Kenny’s voice, especially when he spoke Japanese, made her weak in the knees. If she were animated, she would have hearts in her eyes as she listened to him speak the language.

“Hol no tan ni aru saigo heya, executive no heya.” (T: "Last room at the end hall, the executive one.")

“Ii desu ne, sokode o ai shi masho u,” Kenny nodded as a fan approached Finn’s table. (T: "Sounds good, we will see you there.")

Emery stood there beside him, a pout on her face as she listened to the two talked, the Japanese rolling off their tongue flawlessly. Kenny laughed when he saw the look on her face, deciding to toy with her some more—knowing how she felt when he spoke the language.

“Dou shi ta no, watashi no tenshi? Anata wa iwa re ta koto wa kanzen ni rikai suru koto ga deki mase nichi ka? Aa, demo, watashi gak ono you ni hanasu toki, anata ga watashi no koe wa kiku no ga dorehodo suki ka shitsu te iya masu. Tanoshin de iya masu ne?” (T: "What’s the matter, my angel? Are you not able to fully understand what was said? Ah, but I know how much you like listening to my voice when I talk like this. You enjoy it, don’t you?")

“Zonzai,” Emery huffed, using one of the few words she did know in Japanese, causing all three to chuckle at her. (T: "Rude.")

 In a rare public display of affection, Kenny leaned close and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead before they continued on. Soon after, they came across a rather… interesting setup.

“Okay, Creed, how much did you pay to rig THIS up?” Emery laughed, seeing that his table was right next to a table that sat Claudio and Adam Cole. To the other side of Creed was another table with Tyler Breeze and NWA’s Dirty Dango.

“I beg your pardon,” Creed recoiled defensively, “I would never do such a thing.”

“Right, sure,” Emery nodded, narrowing her eyes playfully. She saw the spot beside him was empty and looked at the banner behind Creed, her heart dropping in dismay. “Kofi couldn’t make it?”

“Nah,” Creed shook his head, frowning, “One of his kids got sick the other day. One of those contagious bugs. I can video him if you want to talk?” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, pointing to it as Emery’s eyes brightened up. Quickly, Nick and Matt jumped in, shaking their hands.

“Nah, nah, nah—you call him, she will take your phone for the next five to seven hours,” Nick warned, Emery frowning at him as Creed slowly slid his phone back into his pocket.

“Zonzai,” Emery glared at the Bucks, crossing her arms in front of her. (T: "Rude.")

“Nice going, Ken. You and Finn started her on her Japanese trend. Now she’ll keep on for the next, oh… three days?” Matt sighed as Kenny shrugged.

“Maybe I’ll teach her more, just to expand her vocabulary, and she can annoy you more,” Kenny threatened playfully as the Bucks rolled their eyes.

“Great.”

“Exactly what we need.”

“Do I get a hug, or am I still dead?” Adam asked, giving his best puppy dog eyes to Emery.

She smiled over at him, taking a step forward before pausing.

“Hmm… I should check with Kye first. Something seems… off.”

“Oh, come on!” Adam laughed, deflating at the accusation, “You should know him and me by now. We team up and then fight, team up and then fight. It’s our cycle, it’s what we do.”

“So, like a rotating boyfriend. On again, off again,” Nick smirked.

“Sure,” Adam shrugged, “I bet within the next year or so, he and I will be back together.”

“…. Okay, fine I guess you can have a hug then.”

“Sweet,” Adam smiled, hopping up off his chair and around the table. His arms snaked around Emery’s body, giving her a warm hug, smiling to himself as Emery returned the hug.

“It’s nice to see you again,” Emery murmured against his chest, barely loud enough for him to hear.

“Yeah, same. It’s been a while,” Adam whispered back, placing a kiss on the top of her head as he let go.

“What, no hug for me?” Creed questioned, unamused.

“I dunno depends.”

“On what?” he deadpanned, not liking where this was going.

“Give me a rematch.”

“Never.”

“Then no hug.”

“Fine. I don’t need one anyway,” Creed frowned, waving her off.

“ZONZAI!” (T: "RUDE!")

“This is Swiss, by the way,” Adam said, introducing Claudio as he gave a wave from his seat. Emery turned her glare away from Creed to smile at Claudio, giving him a friendly wave.

“You hear about the thing later on?” Kenny asked Adam, who gave a nod.

“What thing?”

“Yeah, Finn told me. You guys gonna be there?”

“Be where?”

“Might consider it,” Matt shrugged.

“Consider what?”

“It’ll be nice hanging out together.”

“Guys,” Emery cried, pouting, “Stop ignoring meeeee.”

Everyone, including Swiss, Creed, and Breeze (who had walked over closer), laughed as she crossed her arms in front of her.

“Are they bullying you again, Darlin’?” Hangman questioned, walking up behind her.

“Yes!” Emery frowned, spinning around and throwing herself against his frame, her arms wrapping around Hangman and holding tight. He sighed, a small smile crossing his face as he wrapped his own arms around her and rubbed her back comfortingly.

“Hangman?”

“Hmm?” He looked down at her as she tilted her head up.

“Do you know what nice thing is going on later that people might be going to?”

Hangman swallowed thickly as he stared into her eyes; accompanying her pout were the patented puppy dog eyes that worked on just about everyone she met. He stayed silent, unable to look away, but when her chin started to wobble, and tears began to build at the edges of her eyes, he panicked.

“It’s a surprise,” Hangman quickly said, his blue eyes wide as he finally was able to blink.

“A surprise?”

“Yeah—you don’t want to ruin the surprise, right?” he asked her as she slowly shook her head. The puppy dog waterworks that threatened to spill were gone, her chin no longer wobbling.

“All right then,” Hangman smiled, giving her forehead a quick kiss. As she let go of him and turned back around to the others, Hangman gave a silent but very visible sigh of relief, closing his eyes briefly as he shook his head.

“I told you not to teach her the puppy dog eyes,” Nick frowned, lightly smacking Matt on his shoulder.

“Ow, hey!”

“You guys are way too much,” Creed shook his head in disbelief.

“Perhaps, but I wouldn’t trade them for the world,” Emery smiled. She loved her dysfunctional friends and makeshift family unit.

“You guys been over there yet?” Adam asked, pointing his thumb over his shoulder. They all looked and saw the all too familiar black and white symbols on several tables, as well as the distinguishable ‘NJPW’ letters nearby.

“Not yet. Who’s here, do you know?” Matt asked him.

“Not too many, I think only six or seven actually showed. David Finlay and O’spreay are no-shows.”

“Good,” Emery deadpanned. There was no love lost for O’Spreay and something about Finlay she just didn’t like too much.

“But I have noticed Robinson, Ishimori, ELP, and Switchblade.”

“Jay’s here?” Emery brightened up.

“Yeah, he’s down there. Have you met the others yet?” Adam asked her.

“I think I remember Juice a little… but not the other two. Kenny, can we—”

“Our break’s almost up, Angelface. Maybe if we have time later,” Kenny told her as he began steering her away from the black and white.

“Fine,” Emery pouted, “Bye guys, we’ll see you!” As Emery, Kenny, and Hangman walked away, Matt, Nick, and Adam shared a look of amusement.

“It’s funny how much she’s opened up since the end of 2013,” Adam smiled, “Heck, even since I left in 2017. She was still a little shy back then, only being herself around certain people. Now? Even Swiss gets a warm welcome.”

“Right? I think it’s Kenny’s weirdness that’s rubbing off on her,” Nick joked.

“Very likely,” Matt agreed, “Anyway, we gotta get back too. See ya later at the reunion.”

“All right, guys, I’ll see ya.”

----A Few Hours Later---

“But I’m hungry,” Emery frowned as Matt and Nick carefully led her through the hall. Kenny was walking along behind her, his hands covering her eyes in an effort to keep the ‘surprise’ going.

“We know you are Ree, but you can eat at the surprise,” Nick told her.

“There will be food there?”

“Should be—if someone thought about getting some…” Matt frowned as they stopped right outside the closed door. They had led her around the hallways for a solid ten minutes or so, tricking her into thinking they had gone farther away than they actually had.

“All right, ready?” Nick asked her as she excitedly nodded her head.

“Are you gonna tell her, or are we?”

“We should let Hangman—he’s the one that said it.”

“Said what?” Emery frowned; her eyes were still covered by Kenny’s hands. He dropped his hands, letting her see the closed door before she turned around, confused. The Bucks stood beside Kenny, looking at her apologetically.

“It’s…. not really a surprise, kitten,” Kenny admitted, an apologetic smile on his face.

“What?”

“Yeah, Hangman came up with something on the fly to keep you from crying.”

“Ihr idioten!” Emery growled, crossing her arms in front of her as Claudio was walking by on his way out of the venue. He stopped short and looked over at her, a brief look of amusement on his face before he switched it to shock. (T: "You jerks!") ((german))

Behind her, the door opened, and voices flowed from inside the room; shortly after, it clicked shut softly. Whoever had exited the room stood behind her in silence, watching and waiting.

“Language, little lady.”

“Verpiss dich, Schweizer,” she grumbled, not even looking at him as she pouted. (T: "Piss off, Swiss.")

“Rude,” Claudio frowned, causing Kenny to look at Emery in surprise before sighing in disappointment.

“She really being cruel?” Nick asked Claudio, who nodded in return.

“I’m slightly insulted and impressed at the same time.”

“Niemand--!” Swiss held up his hands in surrender before exiting through the door, leaving them to their own devices. (T: "Nobody--!")

Kenny frowned at her, cutting her off as he said, “Sate, juubun nani chiisana onnanoko. Anata ga furumawa nai nara—” (T: "Okay, enough little girl. If you don’t behave--")

“Shove it,” Emery huffed, turning her head to look away from all of them.

From behind her, a strong hand wove into her hair before gripping and yanking her head back slightly. The sudden action caught Emery by surprise, a gasp escaping her throat as her hands reached back to grab at the hand behind her.

“Is my princess being a little brat?” A familiar voice growled in her ear, his head resting against hers. Kenny, Nick, and Matt stood there silently, not doing anything to help her—not even when her eyes darted to them from her current stance, wordlessly pleading with them.

“Sorry, Ree, you brought it upon yourself,” Matt shrugged.

“Besides, you were so excited earlier to see him,” Kenny told her, his eyes narrowing in slight jealousy.

“I—I—”

“Here I was hoping we could have a fun time. Hadn’t seen you in some years now… but no,” the voice sighed in disappointment, tugging back a little rougher, “No, you had to go and cop an attitude for no reason.”

“I’m—I’m sorry, Jay.”

“Not me you should be apologizing to, Princess.”

“I’m sorry, Kenny.”

“And?”

“H-he’s gone—”

“Say it,” Jay growled, his grip tightening in a warning.

“Sorry, Claudio.”

“Good girl,” Jay commended, his grip loosening slightly, “Now, are we going to behave, or do I have to show the rest of Bullet Club how to keep you in line?”

“I’ll behave.”

“Good choice, princess,” Jay told her, kissing the side of her head as he let her go, smirking at Kenny, “That’s how you deal with that. I thought Dark Angel was your territory, Omega. Didn’t seem to be able to handle her that time.”

“I would have gotten there, but you had to butt in, White,” Kenny glared at him.

“Wait—did you say ‘rest of bullet club’ ?” Emery questioned, turning around to face Jay with wide eyes.

“That’s right, princess. Did these idiots not tell you?”

She shook her head no, holding her breath as she waited in anticipation.

“Of course, they didn’t,” Jay rolled his eyes before pointing over his shoulder, “Finn realized that a good chunk of Bullet Club past and present was going to be at this event, so he decided to hold a mini-reunion.”

“Really?!”

“Really. Shall we?” Jay extended a hand towards her, which she giddily took, missing the dark look across Kenny’s face as she followed Jay into the room. He threw a wink over his shoulder before the door shut behind him, leaving the Bucks and Kenny outside in the hall.

“Well, that didn’t take long, did it, Matt?”

“Nope, and I think that’s a new record.”

“Record for what?” Kenny snapped, looking at the brothers.

“For someone making you jealous,” Nick laughed, “C’mon, let’s get in there before the current Bullet Club steals her away from us. You know she’s a fan of ELP.”

Kenny quickly pushed past them and stalked into the room, trying to keep his composure. He noticed that Phantasmo, Ishimori, and Juice had already swarmed Jay and Emery, and it took everything in him not to walk over there and lead her away. Soon, even Chris Bey and Ace Austin joined them, talking to Emery and making her laugh.

“He’s jealous, ain’t he?” Anderson questioned, coming to stand beside Matt.

“Record time, too,” Matt told him, causing Anderson to let out a low whistle.

“Wow. Jay really knows how to push those buttons, doesn’t he?”

“Yepp,” Nick nodded, chuckling slightly as he noticed a frown appear on Jay’s face. El Phantasmo had whisked Emery away towards the food table, seemingly stealing her from his friend.

“Looks like Jay has some competition himself,” Matt noticed, grinning.

“Not jus’ him,” Finn said, walking over to them, “Damian’s been talking my ear off all evening abou’ her.” The Irishman nodded his head in Emery’s direction, and they watched as the tall Puerto Rican walked up to her and El Phantasmo. He said something to her, causing her to laugh—and immediately, Phantasmo’s face seemed to fall a bit.

“This is going to get really, really interesting,” Nick realized.

“Just wait till Hangman finds out,” Matt chuckled.

“She’s gonna have to have a battle royal or a tournament—something—to crown a winner,” Gallows said as he joined the group, watching across the room.

“My bets on Kenny,” Nick shrugged.

“Why Kenny?” Anderson asked.

“The eyes, gaming, dorkiness, and the Japanese.”

“Jays got an accent, pretty eyes, very toned and muscular, and isn’t afraid to put her in her place when the Dark Angel comes out.”

“Fair point. But Damian’s tall and has all those muscles, plus speaks another language.”

“So? Hangman’s a cowboy. All chicks love cowboys. He’s got an accent of sorts-- and blue eyes.”

“Riley’s tall, toned, and has a blue-green looking eye color. Loves music too. An equal mix of good guy and bad boy.”

“Something tells me this isn’t going to be over any time soon,” Nick smirked, watching as Emery was surrounded by almost everyone, a smile on her face as she listened to each one. This was definitely going to get interesting.

[projectdreamwalker]

⭐️Welcome to Projectdaywalker!⭐️

Hello Yall! I’ve had this blog for 3 years now and never have made a proper blog post. I love Star Wars and have loved it since I was in 1st grade, maybe even kindergarten. This is a Star Wars main blog, but I also reach out into other fandoms like Attack on Titan, Batman (essentially bat family), Transformers, Snow White With The Red Hair, Avatar (James Cameron), Overwatch (Support main for those asking), and Marvel. Essentially, I am a nerd, and happy about it.

Please exit if you are under 18! I have mature themes on this blog.

I want to get into writing fanfiction, but I don’t want it to suck up my time; I also began to realize I can write an essay better than I can write creatively.

If you have any asks or thoughts for these characters, send em in!

⭐️ Rules:

I don’t write for incest, no clonesest either; don’t be weird.

2. I will write for characters under 18 and an adult over 18, but only platonically. And I will write for characters under 18, but only when reader is also under 18, I won’t do any weird requests or requests I see as weird. 3. I won’t write for anything smut related. Full stop. I don’t do smut and I don’t like reading it much anymore either, please don’t send stuff like that.

4. I will write pregnancy and stuff that has to do with parenthood, I don’t mind that. I won’t do detailed labor, however.

5. I will only write female reader, this isn’t because I dislike anything else or are close minded, I wish to write realistically, and I can’t do that for anything else. I swear this isn’t aimed, I just would feel uncomfortable writing for anything else.

6. When it comes to writing specific features on a reader, I will do my best. I also won’t get to specific in how I describe the reader. I like research and never intend to harm others, so let me know if I do and I’ll look it over and change it.

7. I value my own life and pursuit of happiness, so I won’t accept hate or hate for others. I don’t like gossip and dislike it when people try to sway my beliefs or opinions. I talk about real life stuff in real life, I leave that behind when I log on here. I’m not deaf, I just talk about it with people who I know in my real life.

8. I won’t write anything that is home-wrecker. I won’t do cheating or anything like that.

Please just be conscious and know I have a life and will likely put that first. Thank you.

Characters I write for:

☀️: Characters I am knowledgeable on and enjoy.

⭐️ Star Wars:

☀️Obi-Wan Kenobi

Anakin Skywalker

☀️Thrawn

☀️Cal Kestis

Luke Skywalker

Finn

Poe Dameron

Armitage Hux

Din Djarin

Kylo Ren

Cassian Andor

⭐️ Bad Batch/Clones:

☀️Hunter

☀️Tech

Echo

Wrecker

Crosshair

☀️Rex

Howzer

Cody

Boba Fett

(you can ask for more specifics, not a guarantee I can write for them.)

⭐️ DC:

☀️Bruce Wayne (I prefer Bale and Mazouz)

Damian Wayne

Jason Todd

Dick Grayson

Edward Nygma (Gotham and Secrets in the Dark)

Jonathan Crane (Cilian Murphy)

⭐️ Overwatch:

☀️Genji Shimada

Gabriel Reyes

Cole Cassidy

Baptist

Attack On Titan:

☀️Levi Ackerman

☀️Armin Arlert

Jean Kirstein

Reiner Braun

Eren Jaeger

Erwin Smith

Snow White With The Red Hair:

Obi

☀️Zen Wisteria

Mitsuhide

⭐️ Avatar:

Jake Sully

Neteyam

⭐️Marvel:

☀️Steve Rogers

Sam Wilson

Loki

Hobie Brown (ATSV only, sorry comic readers)

[jrwi-archive]

pfp by frxxq / banner by sephyr / ↑ drawing by islayuri

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nav below; huge work in progress!! i will add links to every tag soon!!! + more characters

CAMPAIGNS

fated / riptide / prime defenders

apotheosis / blood in the bayou

PLAYER CHARACTERS

gillion tidestrider / jay ferin / chip / goobleck

dakota cole / william wisp / vyncent sol

rumi / peter sqloint / thanatos

kian stone / rolan deep / timothy rand

bra'ad vengalor / taxi / sylnan vengalor / velrisa grayrock

GUEST PCS

ashe winters

clorten / la alma /

NPCS

(prev pcs) finn tidestrider / drey ferin / arlin james / harlem shade / ms gilbert / jason king

(riptide) pretzel / apple / marshal john / old man earl / ava ferin / edyn tidestrider / lizzie lafayette / caspian / ollie / alphonze / gryffon / jasmine drake

(pd) mark winters

(apotheosis)

(bitb)

(fated)

CONTENT TYPES

art / fanfiction / gif / image / clip / cosplay

MISC

ships / designs / au

SHIPS

fish & chips / waning crescent /

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INFO

i (admin of this account) have only seen riptide, but i will archive content from every campaign!!

if you want one of your posts on here, send an ask with the link or something and i will add it ! anyone is allowed!!

[comphy-and-cozy]

Ch. 25: Hello - Fallin’ All in You // Michael Gray x Reader

Summary: In which you meet Michael Gray, star hockey player for the NHL team, the Peaky Blinders.

Chapter 24: ~2.0k words. Michael signs a new contract. Brief smut. 18+ NSFW.

My Masterlist

Black Lives Matter

July 2

NHL Off-Season Rumors: Gray to Return to the Blinders

Peaky Blinders veteran Michael Gray to sign 6-year contract

The Prodigal Son Returns: Michael Gray re-signs with Peaky Blinders in 6-year deal

As soon as the news broke, Michael’s phone nearly exploded with texts and calls from friends, family, and most importantly his former — or, now current — teammates, congratulating him and welcoming him home. And home he was.

He was on the next flight back, making arrangements to move his things back home while on the plane, hardly bothering to say goodbye to his teammates. He was staying with Isaiah until he got situated, and though he hadn’t said anything out loud, it was his intention to purchase a plot of land and — if things went well with you — build you your dream home.

Isaiah picked him up at the airport, and as Michael watched the grin that spread across his best friend’s face as they made eye contact, certain his own face was a mirror image, he knew he was home. The two embraced in a tight hug, Isaiah muttering into Michael’s shoulder, “Welcome home, brother.”

The two men retrieved Gus from the designated pickup spot, and Gus happily jumped up to greet Isaiah, who laughed and gave a hearty scratch behind the ears. “Hey, buddy. I missed you too.”

In the car, they followed the normal catch up routine — though there wasn’t much to catch up on, as they spoke pretty regularly. Michael filled Isaiah in on his farewell to the Bookies, and the woman on his flight who had had a few G&T’s too many. The only unknown at this point was, well, you.

Read the rest on AO3!

Taglist: @emotchalla​ @saintd0lce​ @gypsystuf​ @cleverdreamerhoagiewolf​ @peakyblindersengland​ @vintage-fantasyyy

[xxblackballoonxx]

Electric: Chapter 19

Modern John Shelby AU

This fic is being posted simultaneously on FanFiction.net and Ao3. Classy smut warning beginning with Chapter 5.

Thank you all for the birthday wishes! 🎉

Per a few requests, I'm starting a tag list. If you'd like to be included, please comment on a post.

And now, back to our favorite modern John Shelby.

Chapter 18 J&Gem Chats 16 Chapter 20

Electric Masterlist

Electric

Chapter 19: Game On

John sat in his office, copying over numbers from a ledger on his right to a clean ledger on his left. They’d been busier than the office could handle for months, and this often left him cleaning up other people’s mistakes. Which also often left him irritated.

“John?” A voice from the partly opened door came across the room.

“Come in, Lizzie.” John replied without looking up.

“John, this is Gemma O’Neill. The new assistant we’ve hired for you?” Lizzie spoke again, wary of John’s temper lately.

John looked up and dropped his pencil in surprise. Before him was a beautiful girl, eyes locking with his as he stood and adjusted his jacket. He felt suddenly and extremely interested in doing any kind of work with this new assistant. No matter how boring or tedious.

“Mr. Shelby, lovely to meet you.” Gemma said with a smile that spoke volumes to him.

“John, please. Nice to meet you as well, Ms. O’Neill. Welcome to the Shelby Company.” John replied, taking her hand in his.

It felt like electricity was running through his veins as their skin touched. He watched her search his eyes to confirm he’d felt it too, giving a small smile in return.

“Please, call me Gemma.”

Lizzie walked out the door, closing it softly, leaving the two standing in John’s office. Lizzie had caught enough of the interaction to know that she was no longer on the short list of who John Shelby may show interest in next. 

Weeks passed as Gemma and John worked together to catch up on the books and devise a cleaner system for taking bets. He found himself enamored with the way she laughed, the way she looked up at him when he stood behind her chair, her hand resting gently on his arm as they spoke. For the first time since Martha had passed, he felt something, anything, for another woman. 

The two sat alone in his office one night after a record day at the races. John ushered out the rest of the staff so they could count the take and not get distracted. Except the tension between them was running higher than ever and it seemed like every moment together was an opportunity to push things a little further. He’d wrapped his arm around her waist for a moment earlier, as she poured him tea, refreshing the lukewarm cup in front of him. The second his hand touched her body, she gave into him, leaning slightly further against his chest. From the look she gave him, he knew he was in.

“For Christ’s sake.” Gemma muttered as she dropped a stack of coins on the floor.

John watched as she knelt down and picked up the coins one by one. He stood and walked in front of her. Gemma looked up to find him standing over her, gray blue eyes flashing with something she didn’t quite understand, but the desire she was feeling only went higher.

“Make sure to recount those.” John said gruffly.

“I will, Mr. Shelby. I mean, John. I’ll make sure to recount them.” Gemma replied.

John caught the smallest of smirks on her face and bit back his own. There was a game going on now between them, she’d caught on. He held out his hand for hers and helped her up off the floor, watching as she placed the last of the fallen coins back on his desk. Gemma went to sit back down and he took her other hand, walking her gently back against the wall.

He could feel her chest falling and rising with every breath, picking up a little more each time. Her hands were warm and small in his, and the feeling of holding a woman’s hand again nearly made him keel over. He’d missed this. But was it right to take a chance again, so soon? And not to mention, with his assistant?

Gemma watched as his eyes flicked through a thousand thoughts, and she tightened her grip on his hands in response. She looked up at him directly, daring him without words to do something about what had been between them since the moment they met.

Before she could form another thought, John kissed her, holding her hands above her head. His lips trailed across her cheek and then down to her neck, as he released one of her hands to hold her firmly against him, arm around her waist. She lost track of time as he lost himself in her, the smell of her perfume, and spark that flickered with every touch of her skin to his.

John woke suddenly, sitting straight up in bed. His heart was pounding and he took a deep breath, running his hands through his hair.

“John?” Gemma mumbled, reaching out to touch his side.

“It’s alright, love. Go back to sleep, just a strange dream.” John replied quietly, putting his hand over hers.

Gemma lay still for a moment and then sat up behind him, sliding her other arm around his neck. He could feel her mouth against his shoulder blade, her fingers gently rubbing against his upper chest. 

“What was the dream?” Gemma asked.

“It was a different time period, early ’20s, maybe? And my family business was gambling. You came to work for me, that’s how we met. And you had an Irish accent.” John replied with a small smile, thinking about the kiss in the dream.

“That tracks. My grandparents did come over from Ireland as little kids around that time, different universe and I could’ve been born in Ireland myself.” Gemma replied.

“You looked fit as fuck in your little secretary outfit.” John commented, picking up her hand and kissing the back of it.

“Oh? And did you do something about it? Mr. Shelby?”

“I did, yeah. It was quite scandalous for the time, making out in my office.” 

Gemma laughed and John smiled again at the sound of her voice. Still, Gemma could feel that it wasn’t the full story. It was the tension in his shoulders and the way he held her hands to his body, needing her touch.

“It’s only just past six. Let’s go back to sleep, baby.” Gemma whispered in John’s ear.

He nodded and let Gemma pull him back into her, resting his head against her shoulder as she pulled the blankets up over them both. She turned into him, hand on his back, and he closed his eyes. Gemma waited for his breath to slow before falling back to sleep herself.

************************************************************************

“Carolyn, are you excited for this evening?” Gemma asked.

John, Gemma, and Anna had joined Finn and Carolyn for lunch at a small pub not far from the Gibson. Carolyn had come in the night before, and Finn, at Gemma and John’s subtle suggestion, had gotten Carolyn her own room. Not that either Gemma or John expected them to actually stay separately the entire weekend, but they were young and Carolyn was coming to a major family event. Some private space was a necessity.

“I am, yes. A bit nervous, too. Finn said it’s a big crowd tonight, plus the whole family there.” Carolyn replied, smiling as she watched Finn and John chat about something unrelated.

“Why don’t I get ready a little early and I’ll stop by your room for awhile before we head over to the Eden. Say around six?” 

“That would be great.” Carolyn said with relief.

“I can come by as well, too. Make it a little girl’s only party before the men take over?” Anna responded.

Carolyn laughed and nodded, shooting a grateful smile to Gemma. John, who had been half listening to the girls’ conversation, squeezed Gemma’s knee under the table. She ran her fingers over his in return, and couldn’t help but smile at the unspoken conversation of their own.

A few hours later, Gemma sat in her robe on the sofa in their suite, doing her makeup. John was pretending to flip through his phone, keeping himself busy, but his looks didn’t go unnoticed.

“J, I can feel you watching me.” Gemma said with a laugh.

“What can I say, I like to spend my time watching my pretty girlfriend. Is that a crime?” John replied with mock indignation. 

“No crime that I can see.” Gemma responded.

She finished her mascara and looked up to see John still watching her but also lost in thought. He was spinning the signet ring around on his finger, over and over. A sure sign that beyond the surface, something was bothering him. She set down her makeup bag and walked over to the chair he was sitting in, settling herself on his knee.

“What’s going on, John? I can see all the thoughts spinning around behind those blue eyes of yours.” Gemma said softly, putting a hand to his face.

“It’s nothing.” He responded.

“Did something else happen in that dream this morning? Besides us being naughty and making out in your ‘20s gangster office?” 

John gave a small smile at the suggestion and then shook his head, but he wouldn’t look back up.

“It’s ok to tell me, J.” 

Gemma gently pulled John’s head up, forcing him to look at her. It amazed him every time that Gemma could read what was going on with him, could see it in his eyes and feel it when she touched him.

After what seemed like an hour, John finally pulled back from Gemma. It felt like his body was on fire, the searing heat from their kiss was flowing through him. Gemma’s cheeks were flushed and her hand was still resting on his hip, fingers burning through his clothes.

“It’s, um, it’s getting late. Can I walk you home?” John finally got out, his voice hoarse.

Gemma smiled and nodded, gathering her coat from the rack, letting John hold it out so she could slip her arms into the sleeves. He pulled on his cap, angled to the side in a way that made Gemma’s heart leap, and shrugged his overcoat on over his suit. The way he looked down at her, with his coat collar standing and the shadows of his cap setting off his cheekbones, she’d never seen anything more beautiful. Beautiful and dangerous.

“Aren’t your children waiting for you?” Gemma asked as they locked up the shop.

She knew he had several children, four if she counted right from the whirling chaos they produced when they ran through the shop to his office. She’d heard whispers that his wife, his first love, had passed several years before, but he never spoke of her. Ever.

“I knew I’d be late tonight so I asked Ada to put them to bed. Normally I try to be home for that, or else they kick up a fuss. Little pack of wolves, they are.” John responded with a laugh.

Gemma could feel the warmth emanating from him as he spoke of his children, and it was contradictory in a way she never thought she would find intriguing. John Shelby was tough. He drank and swore and smoked like his life depended on it. Beat men on a weekly and sometimes daily basis. Yet, he knew his kids well enough to know that they needed him. The juxtaposition of his hardened exterior to the warm soul underneath wasn’t lost on her.

John offered her his arm, and Gemma slipped her arm through, her hand against his bicep as they walked through Small Heath to her flat. He told her a joke and she laughed, the sound cutting through the walls he’d built up after Martha had died.

Far too soon they found themselves at her door. John waited for her to unlock the door, and let out a breath as she hesitated to go in. It was what he had been waiting for.

“Do you, um, want to come in? I could make you some tea.” Gemma said, now nervous.

“Sure.” 

Gemma led John up the staircase to the small second floor flat she had been renting since her arrival in Birmingham.

“It’s small, but it’s my own.” Gemma commented as they walked into the small parlor.

“I like it.” John replied, and he really did.

John removed his overcoat and then reached for hers, carefully placing both on the small rack she had by the parlor door. There was something he needed to say, and there was never going to be the perfect time to say it. But it had to be said. He took her hand and watched her eyes as she watched him, waiting for him to speak.

“I’m sure you’ve heard, that my wife, Martha, died a few years back.” John said somberly.

“I have, and I’m very sorry for your loss, John. For you and your children.” Gemma replied, rubbing her thumb across his.

“Thank you. I wasn’t sure … you know … when I’d be ready for something else. If I’d be ready for someone else. The truth is, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since the moment I saw you standing in my office that first day.” 

Gemma smiled and sensed he had something else to add, waiting patiently for John to speak again.

“I want you in my life, Gemma. Every part of it. I want to wake up with you in my house, with my kids screaming bloody murder downstairs, and knowing that you and me are together. Forever.” John finally said quietly, admitting what he’d been fantasizing about for months.

“Are you sure your kids will even like me?” Gemma asked, her smile widening.

“They’ll love you. And not just because I love you.” John whispered, putting his hand against her cheek.

Gemma’s eyes widen with his admission and he smiled at the way her cheeks blushed. He could read every thought she had. 

“I love you, too.” Gemma finally replied with a grin.

John leaned down and picked her up, spinning in a circle as she shrieked and then laughed. He kissed her, holding the back of her head, fingers intertwining with her hair. Gemma leaned her head to the side as he put his mouth to her neck, bringing ideas to her mind she’d never had about any other man before.

“How about we skip the tea and you show me your bedroom?” John asked with a smirk.

“You are very naughty, Mr. Shelby. Very naughty, indeed.” Gemma replied and then pointed behind her. 

“In the dream … Martha was dead. We had four kids, I think, but she was dead. And you coming to work for me, it brought me back to life.” John finally said, his eyes mixing into a sad blue.

“You know, most times when there’s a death in dreams, it means something is ending and something else might be starting. Maybe this was your mind and your heart letting go of the past, in a way that you could process in your dream.” Gemma responded.

John nodded, it made sense to him. He had felt strange all day, knowing that Martha was alive in his world but Will was dead, and it was just the opposite in his dream. She was dead but their children were alive.

“Maybe, no matter the scenario, we never would’ve been together long term, her and I. She’s here and Will is gone, in my dream our kids were there and she wasn’t. But you’re in both worlds, and in both we end up together.” John replied, thinking out loud.

“I’m here and I’m not going anywhere, gorgeous. Dream me or real me.” Gemma stated firmly, kissing him.

John nodded and hugged her to him. He still felt uneasy from the dream but Gemma was right.  She was right there with him, in his arms, solid and real. 

Shortly after, Gemma sequestered herself in the bathroom to get dressed, and John sat on the edge of the bed, letting his mind wander. Now that the Eden’s opening was nearly complete, he wanted to get home to Small Heath and start working on music. 

“Hey, J.” Gemma said from the bathroom door as she opened it.

John looked over and his eyes widened, every part of his body suddenly alert. Gemma was standing in a similar lingerie set to the one she wore the weekend before, slip and dress in hand. She hung the dress off the top of the door and walked over to him slowly.

“Do you need some help, Gem?” John finally replied, reaching out for her.

“I just thought you’d like to see a taste of what’s for later. I saw this set last week as well, the color reminds me of your eyes.” Gemma responded, draping her slip over his shoulder.

“You really don’t have to get dressed. We could just stay here … alone … “ John murmured as he kissed her neck, her hair pinned up already.

“But that takes all the fun out of the game, Mr. Shelby. Don’t you want to have some fun?” Gemma asked, forcing herself to stay focused.

John chuckled into her skin and ran both of his hands down her body before pulling back. She took the slip from his shoulder and let it drop down over her head.  

“This way, you know exactly what I look like underneath this dress, like a secret. And later, you’ll get what you’ve been waiting for.” Gemma said nonchalantly, trailing her hand down his arm before turning back towards the bathroom.

Damn.

John waited until she was fully dressed and arranging her jewelry before moving from his spot on the edge of the bed. He was already struggling to contain himself with the thought of her wearing the same dress she had the weekend before, but now it was going to be near impossible.

“I have something for you, too.” John said casually, going to stand behind her at the mirror.

Gemma turned and immediately looked down with a raised eyebrow, fully expecting the slight bulge against his sweatpants that she saw. She looked back up him with such a devilish expression it took everything he had to not throw her onto the bed immediately.

“Not that. I mean, yes, later, but something else.” 

Gemma laughed as he fumbled through his words and then pulled a small box out of his pocket, handing it to her. She opened the box to find a dusty blue velvet one inside and she felt faint suddenly.

“It’s not that Gems, promise. Just a gift, from me to you.” John replied, suddenly realizing what the panicked look on her face meant.

Gemma took a deep breath and then opened the box to find an antique ring she had been looking at a few days earlier, in a jewelry shop they’d stopped into. 

“Oh my God. John, you didn’t! This is too much.” Gemma protested but couldn’t keep the smile from appearing on her face.

“It’s not too much, don’t worry about that. I saw how much you liked it in the shop and I went back yesterday, while you and Anna were at lunch.” 

John watched with a smile of his own as Gemma carefully pulled the ring out of the box and slid it onto her right ring finger. It was a perfect fit, which she already knew from trying it on in the store wistfully. She hadn’t noticed John standing behind her, watching her longingly put it back on the tray. Nor had she noticed John talking to another sales associate, asking them to hold the ring until he could come back.

“I love it, J. Thank you.” Gemma said before kissing John.

“You’re very welcome, my love.”

John wrapped her into a hug, and she relaxed into him. There was something about the way he held her that made her feel safe, wanted, loved, and desired, all at the same time. 

“You have to meet the girls soon.” John mumbled into her hair before letting her go.

Gemma took a final look in the mirror, watching how John looked at her reflection. It was going to be a great night, and she would make sure of it.

A half hour later, Gemma, Carolyn, and Anna sat in Carolyn’s hotel room, gawking over the ring.

“I still can’t believe he did that.” Gemma said in wonder.

“That’s the thing about Shelby men, romantic when you least expect them to be.” Amma commented as she took a closer look at the ring.

“Oh, John’s romantic all the time.” Gemma replied out loud wistfully, making the other two giggle.

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation and Carolyn went to answer it. She found a hotel butler, complete with a rolling cart.

“Compliments of Mr. John Shelby.” The butler said before Carolyn could say anything further.

She stood to the side as the man rolled the cart in and took a bottle of what appeared to be very expensive champagne from the bucket. He popped the cork and poured each of the girls a glass before gracefully exiting to the room. There were a variety of hors d’oeuvres on the cart as well, and Gemma grinned. 

“Well, I think John wins as most romantic.” She commented, as the other girls grabbed their glasses.

“You can only hope that Finn takes a lot cues from John in the love department.” Anna said to Carolyn who’s face went bright red.

Gemma and Anna cracked up at the expression on her face.

At exactly 7:30 that evening, Finn, John, and Arthur showed up at Carolyn’s hotel door. They found the three girls slightly tipsy and laughing about something they refused to tell “any Shelby man” about.

“You look beautiful, Care.” Finn said as his face flushed red.

“Thank you, Finn.” Carolyn replied with a confidence backed by a little champagne and a lot of girl talk.

“Anna, may I escort you to the fancy party at the Eden?” Arthur asked jokingly.

“You may, dear cousin, you may.” Anna replied in a haughty voice, taking his arm.

Gemma stood just inside the doorway, never losing eye contact with John, who leaned against the outer wall. He had his cap pulled low, to the side, the way she liked it, and his head tilted as he watched with her a wicked smile. Game on.

“Well, Ms. O’Neill, I see you’ve had a few glasses of champagne.” John commented as he reached out for her hand.

“Couldn’t turn down a bottle sent by THE Mr. John Shelby, now could I?” Gemma replied with a fake innocence, trying not to laugh.

“I suppose not.” 

John pulled the door closed behind Gemma and held her against it. Lust burned in his eyes as he looked down at her, his right hand on the door, the other holding her hand to her side. She reached out to touch his face and he had to fight to remain in control of himself. The champagne had flushed her cheeks and the look she gave him was pure seduction.

“You ready to play tonight, darlin’?” John murmured in her ear.

“Yes, Mr. Shelby.” Gemma replied, zero hesitation.

“Then let’s play.” John said, his voice low in the way that sent shivers through Gemma’s body.

“Lovebirds, let’s go!” Anna called from the elevator.

John grinned and took Gemma’s hand, twirling her around as they headed down the hall, her dress spinning up as she laughed. John pulled her back into his side, kissing the top of her head.

“You’re right.” Carolyn mused as she watched.

“Right about what?” Finn replied.

“Those two. They are epic.” 

Taglist:

@mariaenchanted

@lovemissyhoneybee

[peakyblinders1919]

First Place in my Heart

Very slight spoilers for season 6 below the cut. No warnings except a rollercoaster of fluff and more fluff at the end.

Michael was a man of his word. He kept his promises. The day he uttered his vows, he meant them. He loved his wife more than he loved anyone else. She was the person he loved the most in the entire world. 

Even more so when they welcomed their son into the world.

“Lawrence Michael Gray.” The microscopic twitch of Michael’s nose suggested he still wasn’t in favor of the name, but it was special. You picked it because it was the name of your favorite author and poet, a name you’d fallen in love with as a little girl, and who was he to deny you the simple pleasure? He’d do anything for you, so something as minuscule as settling on a name like Lawrence was worth all your bright smiles.

Though it was a difficult feat, his love for you only grew as you became a mother. As did yours for him when fatherhood became him.

The look of awe that swept Michael’s features when Lawrence was first placed in your arms was undeniable yet easily mistakable in your exhausted state as being directed at your son. Eyes fluttering closed, you held your son to your chest. Though it was nearly impossible you tuned out his cries as his welcome into the world and tuned into Michael’s whispered sweet-nothings.

“You did amazing love, amazing. I love you so much, hm? So fucking much. You did it. Our son is here. You did it. God, I love you.” Ignoring everything he pushed your hair off your forehead, slicked it back with sweat, and kissed you again and again, taking Lawrence from you as you drifted off into a much needed, and well deserved, slumber. 

In the solitude of the canary-blue hospital room, Michael laid eyes on the bundle in his arms. And while he felt a twinge in his heart, a warmth comparable to love blossom in his chest, it wasn’t nearly as strong as his love for you. Fearing it would be his fatal flaw, a secret kept between Father and Son, Michael silently vowed to be the best husband to his wife, to the mother of his child, and in turn, he’d try his best to be a good father. Something that, up until recently, seemed impossible.

Bringing the bundle home, you spoke to him softly, dictating everything as you gave Lawerence the full tour. “And this will be your room. See the pretty greens and blues. And you’ve got toys and books and trains and toy cars-“

“He’s got everything and then some love. You keep it up and we’ll be here all night.”

Life for the pair changed drastically. Instead of staying at the pub until close, it was replaced with taking turns for late night and early morning feedings. Like clockwork, his cries carried from the nursery to the master, an open eye just making out the numbers on the clock in the light of dawn creeping over the horizon. 5:21. It wouldn’t have been a problem either if it wasn’t the calm Sunday morning you were looking forward to after 6 months of chaotic ones.

Rolling over with a muffled groan, you didn’t even have to ask.

“I’ve got it.” Barely wiping the sleep from his eyes, you closed yours again to the sound of Michael’s slippered feet shuffling down the hall. You found it easy to sleep knowing Michael was such a good father willing to take care of his son.

Meanwhile, it was down in the nursery that Michael, with a yawn, began bargaining, *pleading* with his son. “Go back to sleep Lawrence. For Mummy. She’s just so tired, she deserves a lie in.” Michael’s head began to feel heavy with the lull of sleep before Lawerence’s piercing cry pulled him from it. “Please. Please. You always sleep for her, you never sleep for me.” He whispered his confession. How his wife didn’t notice his failure, for where she saw him as a truly amazing father, he saw himself as less than, unable to create a bond with the babe as he knew he should. And it wasn’t for a lack of trying. “It’s only going to wake her up Lawrence,” he begged. 

As if on cue you stood in the doorway, watching as the boy bundled in blue began to quiet. You watched Michael sit back in the rocker, relief washing over his features. 

“I tried, I really did. I didn’t want him to wake you today. You must be exhausted.”

“Why? Do I look it?” 

“No, of course not. You look as beautiful as ever. Youthful.” He flirted with you, even after all these months and years, smiles exchanged. You joined him, kissed him good morning, and dragged a finger over Lawrence’s cheek.

“I know Mikey, I never said you weren’t trying. A few more minutes and you would have had him. Even he doesn’t quiet down that quickly with him, it’s not instantaneous. There’s no magic spell to stop a baby from crying- though your mother might argue that. I just wanted to check on my men. Come on, put him back to sleep and we’ll head back,” you cooed, fingers intertwining with his. 

That made him smile.

Placing Lawrence back down, it was as if he knew when his parents had left, their feet barely on the carpeted hallway floor before he wailed again. 

Though it wasn’t the morning you had planned, it somehow turned out to be a calm one with Lawrence fast asleep between you and your husband, catching some well-earned slumber.

Michael never turned down the opportunity to flaunt the wealth he had acquired. Therefore, it was no wonder why he so easily agreed to celebrate Lawrence’s first birthday with a big birthday bash. Of course, why wouldn’t he have agreed when you suggested inviting all the family and cousins ‘round, having ponies for them to ride and as much cake as they could eat? He was a devoted father ready to give his son the very best of everything. The best clothes, the best schooling, the best toys, the best books. It was hard to tell where Michael’s motivation stemmed from; giving his son the best because it was something he had missed during his own childhood or because he was trying to impress someone. Who was to be impressed though, was still to be determined.

He hired extra maids that day, perfecting the spread of the table outside set up under a white cloth tent. Thomas couldn’t give him the courtesy of a day off so they’d both be arriving around noon once their meeting was over. It was something you’d grown accustomed to; after all the life you lived would be nothing if for his job. Sacrifices needed to be made. 

Across town, Michael was secretly relieved to miss the stress of the setup; he’d dish out all the money necessary to make the day perfect for his son while stress-free for you and would call it his fatherly duty in the end.

Lawrence was still getting dressed, you and Polly overseeing the final preparations. 

“I’m surprised Michael agreed to all this.” Your mother-in-law began.

“Michael wants whatever is best for his son. And if I say this is best, then he can’t object.” You chuckled. 

“And did he help you pick out the boy’s present?” The judgmental tone was apparent in Polly’s voice, even when talking about her own son.

“Well, no he’s been busy with this project Tommy’s got him overseeing but, he does what he can.”

“He sees his son more than other fathers, I’ll give him that.”

“You sound like you don’t have faith in him, Pol. You may not think fatherhood was meant for him, but he’s risen to the challenge this past year.”

The elder woman finished her cigarette with a contemplative look over the landscape in front of her. “He’s doing what he’s capable of. God knows the male role models he’s had in his life. Fatherhood does not come as naturally as motherhood dear. Whatever kind of father he is, it’s better than an absent one. As long as he loves you both.”

Later that day, though your husband arrived worse for wear because of the meeting, he smiled as he watched his son play with his new toys and cousins, helped him along on the pony, and took him from you when it was time for him to go to bed.

“Sorry I was late. Hope I didn’t miss anything.” He said as he kissed your cheek that night while getting into bed. 

“No, you didn’t miss anything.” You told him reassuringly. “But he was happy to see his Daddy.”

It was sudden words like that which pulled at Michael’s heartstrings, wanting to be there more for his son, wanting to feel the same sense of love and longing that the boy did for him. And while it was there, blooming of its own accord, it was still only the size of a seed.

“Did he have a good time?” He asked as he cleared his throat.

“Of course he did. If he could remember it, it’d be a birthday he couldn’t forget. And that’s all thanks to you, you know.” Your encouraging words pulled him close, your fingers teasing him as they splayed across his chest.

The family never gave him enough credit. 

You knew he was capable. More than capable.

It wasn’t until Lawrence began hitting his milestones that Michael felt a pull, a bond, a real need to be there. Safe to say, absence does make the heart grow fonder. For you and for him.

Though you would have liked to protest, the monthly business trips turned into weekly ones all around the country, even to the northern peaks of Ireland and shores of Wales, and the rare occasion it took him back overseas to America. But still, you and Lawerence managed. There were times on breezy afternoons while you watched your son play in the grass, that you worried Michael would return an unremembered face. And worse yet, you worried Michael enjoyed beginning away. Not from you, not even from his son necessarily, but enjoyed the freedom a bachelor’s life granted him for the time being.

It was when he called at odd hours because of the time difference to speak to you and Lawrence, to ask what he’d missed, to read him a nighttime story over the phone, and when he returned early by an hour or more, sometimes even a day, that your worries were laid to rest. 

He’d grown used to the routine, arms wide open to catch a toddler barreling his way toward him, swopping the mop-haired boy through the air filled with giggles. 

“Daddy’s home!”

“Hi my boy,” he beamed with pride. Michael was getting used to the weight of his son in his arms, against his chest, perhaps even fond of it.

But the welcome home never lasted long enough as his eyes landed on you.

“We’re both glad you’re home.” 

“So am I. I missed you.” Missed you like crazy, He kissed you so passionately, so deeply, he had forgotten little Lawrence was still there with you. Choking out the next part, “I missed you both” because he knew it was what he was meant to say. 

“Can you read to me, Daddy?” 

“Lawrence, Daddy’s had a very rough day of traveling, he’s tired, maybe tomorrow…” you offered once you’d seen Michael’s reaction. Tired, yes but what you saw seemed disturbingly enough like an annoyance. It was rare, but not uncommon.

It was when Lawrence's tiny lower lip started to quiver that Michael gave in. 

You welcomed your very sleepy husband into bed with open arms, kissing him along the jaw and neck.

“You’re a good father, you know that?”

“I try,” he sighed, his voice laced with sleep.

“You are. You are a good father. You… you love him?” It was meant to be a statement but subconsciously it had slipped out like a question. The question you were dying to know the answer to. It wasn’t obvious but it was there, the way Michael sometimes saw your son as an afterthought, or a chore, wanting more to do with you than him. Maybe Polly’s words held some truth. Maybe the past year and a half, Michael was playing the part he thought he ought to play. For you.

“Yes.” He didn’t hesitate. The old Michael would have hesitated but not after being away from Lawrence for so long. Returning home to see his hair had grown, styled like his, to feel the weight of his son in his arms again, the read to him in person, and feel the way his wide eyes looked up at his father with pride that he wanted to be like him someday, and to finally watch his eyes close, contempt and protected against his father’s side. It may have taken him a little longer than normal to realize it, to feel it, but it was undeniable. 

14 days. Two weeks. It was the longest Michael had been away from either of you. Thinking about you setting up the house for Christmas and wrapping Lawrence’s gifts was the thought that helped him to sleep most nights in the hole. But it was the very real nightmare of Lawrence asking where his daddy was, why he had left him, that woke him up not long after.

Thomas Shelby would pay for this.

A cold winter's morning, his heart warmed when you entered the cell. Your anger was justified, he realized as much, but it only made you appear all the more beautiful.

“How’s Lawrence?” It was the first thing he asked after seeing how you were, reaching out a hand to touch you. Reluctantly, you accepted it. Could you blame him for being here? After all, it wasn’t his fault.

“Wondering where his father is and asking if he’ll be home for Christmas.” It was the stress that made you snap. And an immense amount of it you were under, like a boulder crushing you further into the ground; it was Christmas and you had to prepare for it alone lol while fielding your son’s questions, worrying about Michael and the mood swings that accompanied.

“You tell him I will be! Make something up. Tell him I’m with Santa at the North Pole if you have to. And what have we gotten him?” He swallowed his pride then, knowing there was the slightest chance he wouldn’t make it home before the 25 of December no matter how hard he tried. 

You sighed, fighting off your own baggage of emotions. “A pedal car. The red one he’s been asking for.” 

“Good, good. He’ll be thrilled on Christmas Day, I can see him now wanting to take it for a go in his pajamas even though it's snowing.” Though he was right in front of you, he sounded miles away. 

If there has ever been any doubt in your mind about your husband loving your son, it was shattered three years ago that night when you asked him the truth. Still, to stay Michael hadn’t resented Lawrence at first would have been a falsehood. You were Michael’s world, and you always would be, even with a baby in the picture who had grown to take your attention and require more of your love. You knew Michael wanted you to himself, he loved you the most in the entire world, but you'd slowly fallen to number two. A year fell down your cheek.

“Love, what’s wrong? Have I said something wrong?” He asked worriedly.  He pulled our hands in his.

“Nothing. It’s stupid.”

“Your sat in front of me crying, whatever is causing my beautiful wife to cry is not stupid.” He crushed the tear away. You shook your head. “What is it?” He pushed. “Is it seeing me here? I know it’s hard but, do try to look on the bright side-“

“No. No, it’s not that Michael. It’s… I miss you.” You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him the truth, though where was the lie in your words? You missed him, the Michael that loved you more than anything. “You asked how Lawrence was but not me.” You pointed out quietly.

“Darling I…” he paused. Was it true? Had he forgotten to think about her? Had he lost sight of what was truly important, or were the windows with which he was looking out just foggy? “Oh my love, I’m so sorry. This must be a lot for you, I can’t even imagine. I’ll find a way out of this shithole in the morning. For you.” 

His words made you smile a little. He was a good father and an even better husband.

“There’s something else. I was going to wait but…” you exhaled slowly. “I’m pregnant Michael.”

“What?”

“I’m just as shocked as you are, really. And I just… you're a great father, I always thought you were while everyone else doubted it but, you’ve become an even greater one the last couple of years. I was able to watch your love for Lawrence grow over time and… well what if you run out of love?” Though it sounded ridiculous, narrowing the unworldly abstract concept of love down to some tangible amount, it was something you truly feared. Would this baby push you down to the number three spot in his world? Selfish though it was, you wanted to always be his number one.

“I couldn’t run out of love even if I tried. Not for Lawrence, our baby, all of our children. And especially not for you. You are the love of my life, the person I love most in this world. I love you. I’m in love with you Y/N. I always will be. No one takes up more space in my heart than you. Everything I do, being a good father to Lawrence, is for you. And I love that I get to fall in love with you all over again as you bring another one of our babies into this world. You'll always be first place in my heart, I swear by it.”

He had kept his promise, keeping you as the person he loved the most in the world, though babygirl Elizabeth was a worthy opponent.

I hope you like this one! It was requested a while back to see how Michael was with Lawerence since we didn't get to see it in the show and I tried to keep it canon but also put my flair on it? I think this is exactly how Michael would take to fatherhood. He might even be a tad more resentful because I honestly think he loves his wife more than anyone but I like the slow burn too. Idk I obviously got VERY carried away, but as always, any feedback is appreciated! Do you think Michael would be this way as a father? Let me know.

[finn-m-corvex]

Whumptober 2023 Day 14 - Water Inhalation

AND WE'VE MADE IT TO SEABOUND ANGST MY FAVORITE MEAL! I am in LOVE with this one I think it turned out so good and I'm so proud of it. Might be my favorite one!

@splinnters second to last one but I think you'll LOVE this one!

Words: 2.2k

Nya winced as he started coughing again, the sound echoing off of the thin gray walls and reverberating. She rubbed his chest soothingly, shushing him, doing her best to help the coughs taper off. Looking up to his mouth, she was hoping that even a little of the water in his lungs would be expelled, but she was only disappointed to see yet another thin string of saliva clinging to his chin instead.

She wiped at it with a napkin, disposing of it in the trash can they had placed next to the couch. It was almost full of napkins that had been used for the same purpose, and Nya’s foot nudged it as she leaned forward to press a light kiss to her Yin’s exposed collarbone. He let out a high whine, struggling against the grip she had on his wrists until she rubbed the thin skin with her thumbs.

“There we go,” she murmured against his skin once Jay finally quieted down, “there we go. You’re okay, honey, I’m right here. You just need to keep resting.”

With a strangled wheeze, Jay tried to say her name. “Nya?”

“I’m here, love,” she pulled the one blanket they had farther up his chest, tucking it around his sides and under the cushions. “Just try and go back to sleep, okay?”

First Master, there had to be something else she could do. Anything.

Jay leaned into her touch when she went to cup his cheek, thumb stroking the eyebags sunked into his skin. It had been so long since he had gotten some good sleep.

The others filed back into the room with gloomy expressions, and Nya already knew that they were bearing bad news from the way they avoided looking at her. Cole made his way to the couch, plopping himself down at Jay’s head and replacing the blue ninja’s pillow with his leg. Nya’s heart squeezed as she watched the earth ninja card his fingers through Jay’s hair to get him to sleep, Cole’s face pinching in worry. Jay relaxed into his brother’s touch, short hums getting caught in his throat as Cole scratched over his scalp. It would be such a peaceful scene if it weren’t so horrid outside.

Looking out of the room’s windows only to stare into a fabricated ocean made Nya’s head swim with anxiety, and she quickly looked away.

“We cannot make it out through the sewers,” Pixal reported, coming to stand next to Nya and lay a gentle hand on her shoulder. Her tone was professional, but Nya knew the samurai well enough to recognize the worry in her undertones. “They are completely flooded, and the combat craft are not small enough to fit in the tunnels. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Pix,” Nya said, even though she could feel the tears stinging at her eyes. “We’ll just have to think of something else. It’s not the end of the world.”

But it might signal the end of hers.

Kai ran a hand through his hair, messy and unkempt. “We’ve searched this building from top to bottom, Nya. If there was anything we would’ve found it by now. There’s no medicine, there’s no exit, there’s nothing.”

“Can we use the oxygen tanks from the crafts?” Lloyd asked. “Maybe if we get one and try to make a mask-”

“That wouldn’t help him,” Zane said heavily, the words settling over the rest of the room like lead, “oxygen can only do so much. We need to get the water out of his lungs.”

And Nya felt the guilt and the shame crash into her like a tidal wave; she was the master of water, and she couldn’t even save the ones that she loved from drowning in their sleep.

Suddenly, Jay was trying to push himself up on his elbows, back to hacking his lungs out. The sound was harsh and grating against Nya’s ears, and it was one that she had heard entirely too much in the past few hours. Cole quickly pushed him up, thumping the palm of his hand against the blue ninja’s back as Nya held Jay up by the shoulders. Normally they only lasted a minute or two, and then Jay would slump over onto whoever was holding him, exhausted.

Except it wasn’t stopping.

They kept getting louder and louder, and Nya hugged him close to rub his back and try to help however she could. But something was wrong. She could feel his lungs spasming rapidly, and hear him choking as he tried to take in air, gasping.

He couldn’t breathe.

Jay couldn’t breathe.

“Shit!” she exclaimed, starting to whack against the back of his ribs to try and help him. Jay was still coughing, the sound loud and wet next to her ear as his hands clutched at her gi in teror, and Nya could feel him start to tremble. “He needs help!”

“We will get the oxygen tank,” Pixel said, grabbing Zane’s arm and pulling him out of the room. Cole scrambled to grab the bucket they had left on the other side of the room, settling behind Nya. She flinched when she heard Jay start to gag; Cole must’ve stuck his fingers in his mouth and triggered his gag reflex. It wasn’t long before her Yin was vomiting into the bucket, expelling anything that he could except for the water in his lungs. Even a glob of thick blood made a splat in the bottom of the bucket, and Nya started kissing as much of his skin as she could reach as tears soaked into the fabric of her gi.

He sobbed, shaking, and she held him fast. “I know, dear, I know. I know it hurts, and I know you’re hurting, but It’s going to be okay, I promise. It’s going to be okay, Jay. You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay-”

And she repeated it like a mantra, through some of the water finally being coughed up and through Jay’s thick sobs as his chest heaved for air. He was whispering, begging for it to stop, and Nya’s heart broke in two. Kai had sat behind his back, pressing his warm hands to Jay’s shoulder blades in an effort to stop his shaking and reassure the blue ninja, but Nya could tell that it wasn’t working. Lloyd was next to her, pressing a kiss to her temple and putting his hands on top of hers. He was using his power, doing his best to push the energy through to Jay.

Finally, Wu gently pushed Kai away, replacing the fire ninja’s hands with his own. “Son,” he said quietly, and they all watched in awe as their master used his powers, his hands glowing with golden power, “you have to breathe for me, for us. I know it’s hard, but I believe in you, and I know you’re strong enough. In and then out, can you do that for me?”

Jay nodded, and Nya’s hand went to cup the back of his head, tangling her fingers in his hair and tugging gently to soothe him.

“Good,” Wu said firmly, moving his hands up and down. Gold swirls followed his hands, and to her amazement Jay actually did start to breathe more easily. He pressed a knuckle to Jay’s spine, running over each of the ridges. “You’re doing amazing, Jay. Keep going, we are here with you.”

Minutes passed, and the experience was absolutely agonizing. Nya held him the entire time, whispering reassurances and sweet nothings into his ear as he hacked up anything he could manage, eventually starting to breathe in large harsh wheezes that had her heart aching. Cole took away the bucket and put it back on the floor, instead cupping her Yin’s face and speaking to him softly the same way Nya was doing. Wu removed his hands after seeing that his power had done all that it could, stepping back and letting Kai rub Jay’s shoulders.

Zane and Pixal were back with the repurposed oxygen tank, a hastily made mask in her hands, but that solution was very quickly shot down when Jay shoved it away. He was barely conscious, but he was still aware enough to tell that someone was trying to put something on his face; Nya hated that his first instinct was that he was being gagged. Zane did his best to coax his brother to wear the mask, telling him that it would help, but Jay was having none of it.

“He doesn’t like things over his mouth,” Nya explained softly after glancing at Zane's hurt expression, “it’s nothing personal, I promise. Maybe try making it a cannula instead?”

Pixal started work on it right away. Nya didn’t let herself relax until the wheezes finally tapered off, and even though Jay still couldn’t take a full breath it was deeper than anything she had heard for the past fifteen minutes. The relief in the room was palpable, and she had vague thoughts about how she needed to make the atmosphere at least a little happier. She traced a finger around the shell of his ear, hoping to see him shy away and giggle from the touch, and to her relief he scrunched up his shoulder in response.

“That’s all it takes, huh?” she teased, reaching up and doing the same thing to his other ear. Jay was quick to block her access again, but she just kept alternating until he let out a few raspy giggles. “You make it too easy.”

“Nya,” he whined in protest, and the sound of his wrecked and ruined voice was music to her ears. She relented, instead bringing her hands down to start working at undoing his belt. Jay needed to get out of his wet gi if they didn’t want him to get sick.

Kai caught on and helped to get the gi off, balling it up and throwing it in the corner of the room. He hugged the both of them, his arms coming to rest around Nya’s waist with Jay sandwiched in the middle, using his powers to raise his body temperature and soothe both of them. Cole had gotten up to push one of the other couches to the edge of the first one to make more seating, and he snatched Lloyd up in a bear hug that the green ninja only protested once while throwing his legs into Jay’s lap. Zane looked unsure of where to place himself, but eventually settled for sitting behind Nya, his naturally cold temperature working to balance out Kai’s body heat.

Taking one look at the mangled mask and at the cuddle pile, Pixal left it on the ground, instead stripping off her armor and plopping down next to Nya. She laid her head on the water ninja’s other shoulder, feeling Zane’s arm wrap itself around her waist and hold her close.

“What’s going on?” Jay murmured into Nya’s shoulder. “Are we having a cuddle party?”

“Yup, and it’s all for you, Sparky.” Kai said, kissing the top of his brother’s head.

“Can I go to sleep?”

“It would be most beneficial if you did go back to sleep,” Zane said, “because you need your rest. We will figure out what to do.”

Jay coughed again, and Nya clenched her fists, afraid that it would break out into a full coughing fit again. Thankfully, it was just the one. “Can I lay down?”

“After you stay up for a bit,” Cole said sympathetically. “We can’t let the water sit in one place for too long if we want to keep you from getting pneumonia.”

“Stupid pneumonia,” Jay muttered, and it was so Jay that Nya had to chuckle in response. Leave it to her Yin to insult a potentially debilitating illness that they currently had no way of treating and saving him from.

“Pnuemonia is actually quite a serious condition, Jay. If left untreated it could very well-”

Nya felt her heart stutter much like Jay’s normally did, and of course Jay was quick to notice. “I know what it is, Pixal, now stop talking about it. You’re stressing Nya out.”

“I think I’m less stressed about pneumonia and more about the fact that you can’t breathe properly,” Nya snipped, but she immediately wilted. That wasn’t what a good Yang would say.

Yet, Jay didn’t seem to take it personally, instead tracing the skin of her lower back through a cut in her gi. He didn’t say anything, letting the silence settle over the room and pressing a kiss to the crook of Nya’s neck. Nya rucked up his white undershirt, taking off her gloves and placing her bare hands on his skin. She felt his element react instantly, the small electric current flowing through her and making her nerve-endings tingle. There were so many scars across his back, too many to count, but she made sure to trace all of them as meticulously as she could.

It wasn’t long before soft snores filled the air; Jay had finally fallen back asleep against her shoulder, his full weight leaning on top of her and both of them being supported by Zane.. And that was when Nya finally allowed herself to break down and cry.

[virgoilluminati]

One Shot List

Heya, so after the end of Belongings I am planning to have a little break from fanfic series’s to focus on doing smaller fics. But knowing me… they’ll end up becoming short series’s of their own. 😆

So the plan is basically, requests for anyone on my masterlist is open, so just ask me what prompt you would like and who you would like it for, and I’ll write you a fic. ❣️❣️❣️ Been wanting to do this for a while so please send me requests (even if they’re not on this list too). I don’t bite…. (Or do I hehe😏) JK I DON’T I PROMISE

Here’s the prompt list:

1. "You're hair is really soft after you wash it."

2. Ssh. Stop fussing. I'm just braiding your hair."

3. You smell really nice."

4. "Would it be all right if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you.

5. 'I might have slept with your robe when you were gone."

6. "If you steal the blankets, I am going to put my cold feet on you."

7. Here, let's share the blanket.

8. You're comfy."

9. You are my new pillow."

I0. "You are very endearing when you are half-asleep.

11. "But I want to hear you sing.

12. "We can talk over dinner."

13. "Don't be stubborn. Try it!"

14. "Don't get up - I'll do it."

15. "Will you let me rub your back?"

16: "Care to give me a back scratch?"

17. "Star-gazing was a good idea."

18. "You look beautiful/handsome in the moonlight."

19. "I'll always be here for you.

20. "TIl be here to protect you."

21. "I think I love you."

22. "You are my love."

23. "How about something warm? It will will help you sleep.

24. "It's okay. I couldn't sleep anyway."

25. "Don't be silly. I want to stay up with you.

26. It is not morning yet."

27. "Shush and go back to bed."

28. "I heard you talking in your sleep."

29. "Your bed head is really cute.

30. "We'll do dishes together.

31. "How about a kiss?"

32. “I love your hugs."

33. "Come over here and make me.

34. "Have you lost your damn mind!?"

35. "Please, don't leave."

36. "Do you...well...I mean...I could give you a massage?"

37. "Wait a minute. Are you jealous?"

38. "Is there a reason you're naked in my bed?"

39. "I almost lost you."

40. "Wanna bet?"

41. "Don't you ever do that again!"

42. "Teach me how to play?"

43. "Don't you dare throw that snowba-, goddammit!"

44. "I think we need to talk."

45. "Kiss me."

46. "Hey, I'm with you, okay? Always."

47. "So, I found this waterfall..."

48. "It could be worse."

49. "Looks like we'll be trapped for a while..

50. "This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you've ever had. Of course I'm in."

51. "The paint's supposed to go where?"

52. "You need to wake up because I can't do this without you."

53. "We're in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and feel the rain?"

54. "I've seen the way you look at me when you think I don't notice."

55. "You come here often?"

56. "Can I offer you a drink?"

57. "So.. You expecting someone?"

58. "Do you need a place to stay for tonight?"

59. "I gotta tell you... you look incredibly hot.

60. "Do you want to dance with me?"

61. "Look at us... we are basically a couple already."

62. "I bet you would look even better without your clothes on."

63. "Are you single? Just asking."

64. "You're the most beautiful person I have ever encountered."

65. "What would you say if you and me would go somewhere else?"

66. "I love the way you're dressed."

67. "Do I have any chances with you?"

68. "Do you have anything better to do later?"

69. "Can I get your phone number?"

70. "You seem like a bad boy/girl/person type."

71. "I can do whatever you want, babe."

72. "You have the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen."

73. "I bet guys/gals/people are all over you.

74. "You should be a model."

75. "Are you... trying to flirt with me?"

76. "Maybe if I get a free drink I can consider talking to you."

77. "That won't work. Try again."

78. "Oh my god, did you just say that out loud?"

79. "I'm waiting for someone. However, you can amuse me in the meanwhile."

80 "You don't look so bad yourself."

81. "I thought you were taken."

82. "So, have you flirted with every girl/boy/one in this bar yet?"

83. "Do I look like someone who seems interested in you?"

84. "Compliments won't pay my drinks."

[peakywitch]

Fuck Men - John Shelby

“Hello i hope you’re still accepting requests! Can i ask for one with John Shelby. Y/N goes out with her friends and gets roofied (someone put drugs in her drink) and they call john and it’s all messy and full of angst. John comes in with Arthur and Tom and they try to make her vomit it up and he’s crying and fluff at the end. Hope you’re still raking requests I really love your writing! Xx” 

Warnings: drugs intoxication, alcohol, this one is little disgusting sorry

words: 1580

masterlist

I ain't got time for you baby, either you're mine or you're not

Make up your mind sweet baby, right here, right now's all we got

Although The Garrison was one of the best pubs in town, the one run by the Germans, Die Rotte, a few blocks from it was best for having an actual good time. That's where you could find Y/N and her girlfriends every other Friday night. They weren’t exactly women exclusive, but only the best men could get inside.

It was quite a delightful place, to be honest. White walls, art deco everywhere, good alcohol, an amazing band who played the best Charleston in town. The night was one of the best nights. It was a chilly summer night, so dresses were being shown off.

“Y/N, try this!” screamed Lizzie with ecstasy, handing her a glass.

“What is it?” she asked from the table, seeing her friend coming from the bar.

“It’s called Fallen Angel! It tastes like lemon and...just try it!” Lizzie had a beautiful smile on her face, maybe it was snow or the facts that she had gotten a proper job.

A little party never killed nobody, so we gon' dance until we drop

A little party never killed nobody, right here, right now's all we got

“Ok, I’m in. Get me one!” she smiled, after swallowing the exotic greeny drink.

Lizzie started her way once again to the bar and after Y/N held a small conversation with Ada, who was almost as drunk as Lizzie, she came back.

“Here is to us, ladies.” she started to distribute the questionable amount of alcohol between the six women on the table “Fuck being a fuckin’-” she interrupted herself “Fuck men!”

“Fuck men!” the other women chorused, but Y/N could only smile.

She was the only one who got a decent love story. But a decent love story won’t stop anyone from drinking a whole glass in just ten seconds, does it? No, it doesn't.

Time passed by and the night was getting better and better, almost like a movie. The dance floor was filled with sweaty couples dancing non-stop to some loud charleston that rumbled in their hearts, threatening to leave their bodies.

Her legs started to feel weaker, but she knew that was alcohol because it’s the first sign: fragile legs. She knew the others were feeling the same, because they had taken the same amount, or even more.

“I need air!” screamed Y/N, trying to make Ada understand her over the music.

“You need her?” asked her sister in law in return, the music had her going.

“I need…!” she began again, the room started to spin faster and faster, the trumpets were making her head weight and her ears buzz. “John, Ada…”

“Y/N!” voices began to scream her name, but the noise was clouding her mind, and her eyes were not responding anymore, being covered by her heavy eyelids.

But just as she tried to reach out for Ada’s arms, she fell.

“Liz!” screamed Ada, panicking “Lizzie!”

She appeared by her side in a split second, and saw her on the floor, holding her unconscious sister-in-law. 

“Oh Lord, Y/N!” she screamed and knelt by Ada’s side.

She tapped her face abruptly, trying to wake her up.

“She’s not waking up!” they both stated in fear and got her out of the dancefloor screaming to the other dancers.

They sat her on their table, and wet her face with the ice cube that her glass had. While Lizzie was focused on her friend and bathing her neck with the cold water, Ada had her eyes on Y/N’s Glass.

“Ada, another one! Come on, it’s not-” she turned her face and saw Ada’s eyes stuck on her glass “Did…?” she whispered, forgetting about everything.

“There’s something white, Lizzie…” Ada began to tear up, thinking about her friend being harmed.

Lizzie left the bar as rapidly as she could, and ran three blocks down to the Garrison. Her chest was getting cold, and her ankles started to hurt: high heels were not meant for running on a messy street at three am, drunk and scared.

She began to scream John’s name even before she reached the entrance to the Garrison.

“John! Shelby! John! John!” she entered the Garrison, not forgetting to scream Shelby's name. He wasn’t in the big room, he had to be in the booth.

His name burned her throat, she said it so many times she started to forget what to say.

“John!” she burst into the private booth, and everybody stopped laughing.

“Lizzie?” asked John confused, she was supposed to be with Y/N.

He knew something was up, he saw it on her face.

“It’s Y/N!”

He got up as quickly as he could, even faster. Lizzie didn’t have to say another word, for he was running down the street, fearing the worst.

A soft and cold wind was drying his lungs, but it would take more than just wintery weather to prevent him from running towards her. Not even war could stop him from whispering her name in his prayers. If he prayed, it was for her. For her to be safe during the disgusting Spanish flu, for her to be happy during those birthdays he was away, not knowing if his “Happy Birthday” letter would make its way before he took his last breath.

“Y/N!” his voice echoed in the pub, and his throat almost ripped.

“John!” cried Ada, not knowing why her friend wasn’t responding.

And in a few confusing seconds, her body was over John’s shoulder, he was trying to get her out of there.

“Please stay with me, I need you.” he kept on reciting as if he was trying to memorize those exact words. “Please, I need you. Stay with me.”

The walk from the bar all the way to the house in Watery Lane was infernal and everlasting. He couldn't pronounce the words correctly, he was mumbling desperate thoughts, which made no sense on his lips.

Polly, who was spending a cosy night in, opened the door, as an answer to the shouts from her nephews. And as John entered the house in a rush, he placed the girl on the couch, trying to make her wake up.

“What the hell are we even supposed to do!” Ada cried, not knowing why she wasn’t waking up.

“What did she have, Ada?” he asked, taking his blue vest off.

“We don’t know! Her glass had something white at the very bottom, we don’t know what happened, John.” She was about to pull her hair off her head, she was sure it was a nightmare.

“White?” he screamed “She got her drink fucked over and you tell me now?” he was roaring, scaring Ada even more.

“Why don’t you take the girl to the doctor, instead of screaming to your sister?” Polly confronted him “Fighting Ada won’t stop time, it’s making you lose it!”

“John!” his oldest brother entered the house, nervous and curious about what was happening. Tommy was walking right behind Arthur.

“Y/N is under some fucking drug, and I don’t have any idea of what to do…!” he was about to cry, his eyes were stinging.

“What was in her glass?” asked Tommy, taking his jacket off.

“She was drinking a Fallen Angel and there was something white and dusty at the very bottom…” remembered Ada, cleaning her constant tears.

“So it was at the bottom, good to know it didn’t dissolve,” Tommy answered, and walked up to John.

“Brother, listen to me.” he said, taking John’s face in his hands “You take her to the bathroom, and we know you hate puke, but you have to make her vomit.”

He began to instruct quickly on how to help her, and John was suffering by the simple thought of hurting her.

“You won’t hurt her, you just…” Tommy was being careful with his words for the first time in ages, and John was thankful “You just touch everything in there, and it will result. Trust me, she’ll be alright.”

John walked into the bathroom with her, dead weight.

“I’m so sorry, please wake up…”

Some say you float, some say it’s like a dream. Some say you feel everything around you, some say you don’t even realize. But it was fucking disgusting for Y/N, she was dancing a popular Charleston and, when she opened her eyes, she had his husband fingers all the way up to her throat, making a nightmare out of a party.

“What the fuck!” she screamed, feeling how even her soul could leave her body in that same minute.

Both of her hands gripped onto John’s shirt, as she was still not seeing a thing.

“I can’t fucking see!” she screamed, scared to death.

“Don’t worry, Y/N.” said a voice from behind her, she was scared “It will come back to you in a few seconds, don’t worry.”

John hugged her, tightly against his chest.

“John.” she relaxed her body, while susurrating his name.

“Don’t you ever scare me like this again, because next time I might not survive the fear.”

“I’m sorry I scared you, I love you.” she apologized, while her fingers danced in his neck.

“I need you by my side until I die, please don’t leave before me.” he was being truthful, it was never hard for him when she was by his side.

“I’ll try not to, love. I’ll try not to.”

@deepdonutkid @a-golden-sunflower-vol-6 @stydia-4-ever @natural-hearts @lovemissyhoneybee @girlwith-kalei-do-scope-eyes @peakyrogers @writeroutoftime @peakyxtommy @nyotamalfoy @pinkeijin @lukeymybabe @eternallyvenus

[blueeyedheizer]

𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐞

► ►  MICHAEL GRAY

[ Monster Under My Bed*** ]; 0,9k words — {Your three year old daughter wakes up from a nightmare and goes to her parent's room for comfort. The thing is, the two of you are already...busy.}

[ Avoid ], 1,5k words — {Michael has been ignoring you the whole day. Pregnant and confused, you demand answers.}

[ ♡ Addiction*** ]; 1,9k words — {You can never say no to Michael Gray. No matter how complicated and confusing your relationship already is; it's all too addictive to give up.}

[ Mummy's girl ]; 1,1k words — {Your daughter has a hard time warming up to Michael, your soon-to-be husband.}

[ Marry me, Then ]; 0,8k words — {You tell Henry you're pregnant}

[ Decisions ]; 0,8k words — {Michael tells you about his plan to take over Tommy's business.}

[ Useful*** ]; 1k words — {Michael refuses to take a break from his paperwork, but you know exactly what to do to distract him.}

[ L'Adieu ]; 0,3k words — {You attend Michael's funeral}

► ►  JOSH "J" CODY

[ Mirror*** ]; 2,4 words — {Things get heated between you and J, the pretentious, arrogant pretty boy you call your enemy.

[twinklelilstarkey]

Stopping You - Michael Gray [Part 9]

Words: 8.2k+

Summary: When finally able to leave the hospital, memories awake buried feelings in both Y/N and Michael.

Warnings: Female!Reader. Mentions of wounds and physical pain. Emotional Cheating. A very slight mention of smut. A character being touch-starved. Being horny [ :) ]. Self hate (discrediting their own sadness and feelings; hateful inner voice). 

Prologue    Part 1    Part 2    Part 3    Part 4    Part 5     Part 6    Part 7   Part 8     Part 9     Part 10

It has been 2 days ever since you woke up.

The doctors don’t seem to be planning on letting you go home this soon since the wound is supposedly still “too fresh” and because “you’re too at risk of ripping stiches”. Which to you, what they are actually trying to say is “you can’t stand still so we will force you to sit the fuck down until you’re good enough to go back home”.

It does sounds more accurate, doesn’t it?

You’re already able to sit up on your own even though it still hurts like a bitch. And you’ve been playing more and more chess with Michael now that Finn and Polly are back to work.

It, honestly, hasn’t been that bad.

It’s still a little tense between you two when stuck in silence but can anybody blame you after all that happened?

But tense or not, you still like his company, nonetheless.

You know, also, that Gina has been making some visits at the hospital. Not to see you of course, but to see him. They always talk to each other behind the doors of your room, in the hallway, whispering and shutting up whenever a nurse or doctor would walk by.

You would’ve been lying if you said that you weren’t curious. But still, it is not your place to make questions about personal matters. So, behind the glass of the doors you stay.

The door of your room swings open again, letting a wave of cold wind hit you and you look up to see Michael, who is staring at the ground.

“Please, Michael. You have to listen to me, this makes no sense-” Gina says loudly, making Michael turn quickly and glare at her.

You look at the two of them confused and Michael whispers something at his fiancée before turning to walk back out of the room, but he doesn’t, he just stands by the door. Gina looks through the glass in the doors at you and you lift an eyebrow as if to question her glance.

She looks away and you grin while looking back to the papers in your lap.

“Go home, Gina” Michael whisper yells at her and you try your best to act as if the conversation is not making curiosity crawl under your skin.

The blonde, standing behind the door, sighs and takes a step back. And after that, all you can hear is her thick heels sound over the stone of the hospital’s hallways.

Michael sighs as her steps echo through the empty side of the hospital and he turns back to you, seeing you smirking while reading whatever is there to read in all the family’s money withdraws.

“Trouble in paradise?” You poke, not even lifting your eyes at him.

He doesn’t answer at first, he just walks towards the chair he had been previously seated and sits down ungracefully.

You chuckle under your breath at his silence and flip over the page, reading the handwritten numbers of everything that has been gained and wasted over the name of the Shelby family.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He pokes back.

You finally look up from the papers and he has a teasing look over his eyes, now.

He’s already comfortable enough to make jokes and tease you back, and, honestly, he almost doesn’t seem like the same Michael from the day after the event.

You don’t hate it. At all.

“Anything is more entertaining than this” You admit, looking back down to your papers.

“I don’t doubt it” He agrees.

You two stay silent again. Minds focusing on two completely different things.

Michael’s travels to Ginna’s words while yours goes back to the numbers.

Gina had just tried to make him follow the plan again. Hurt the prey while it’s weak, she said. But again, he doesn’t agree at all with her words.

Her tone is not understanding anymore, or even slightly sweet. Her tone is what seems to be a way to try and achieve an authorial one. Her words carry venom as she spills the, so, simple task of overthrowing Tommy Shelby.

Michael’s not even sure if she always talked like that and he never noticed, or is it just sounding different now because he can’t stop comparing his fiancée with you. 

He honestly deeply hopes that he could just erase that plan from Gina’s mind, she almost seems obsessed over it. Judging by how tired she looks every time she visits, she must have not been sleeping lately.

How and why did this plan even seem good at all? As Michael always been so power-hungry? As he always been so thirsty for success, or felt pleasure over imagining himself sitting on the family’s throne?

No human doesn’t love success, that is the truth. Especially if it all is signed at the bottom with your family’s last name. But what Michael was planning with Gina is nothing of the sort. This was not about making your own money and achieve your own success. This was taking somebody else’s and claiming it as yours.

And that is nothing but dirty and foul. How could he have thought that this was good in the first place?

Fuck the American companies who shamed his family’s business over the not being the ideal business partners. His family is serious and hard working. They came from absolutely nothing. Unlike all those men, who swim in their, nothing but dirty, money.

He must talk to Tommy, to let him know about what they said. The news are going to be old, and he should’ve just told him everything when he had just talked to them. But he didn’t. And he regrets it now. Deeply.

Better late than never, right?

“When’s the wedding?” You ask, breaking the silence in the room.

Michael blinks his thoughts away and looks back up at you to already find you staring. You look curious.

“We- Uhm… we haven’t decided yet” He answers, short and simple.

You nod while pursing your lips forward in thought.

“And have you decided on where is going to be?” You ask, “At least in what country?”

“Gina wants to marry and live in America” He replies, fidgeting in his seat as his hand reaches his pocket.

Michael moves slowly to grab his cigarettes and his lighter from his pocket as you stare.

You don’t exactly know how to react. You’re quite disappointed with his answer, but you’re sure you’ll be able to accept it with time. At least to slow the bitter truth that is Michael finding love and moving abroad. Again.

But why should you care?

It’s true that you haven’t found love in another someone, but you also haven’t tried. In the time Michael was away, you occupied your mind and your heart with work. With papers just like the one’s that rest over your lap now. But you could start all over again with another person. Right?

But do you even know when you stopped loving him? When you gave up in love?

The answer is no. You don’t remember, nor do you feel it missing in your chest. You care for many people, yet you love less. You can count in your fingers how many people you would actually shed a tear if their life came to an unfortunate ending.

It would consist in people like Polly and Finn. People who took care of you at your lowest but also didn’t let you go when you stood in your own feet.

Michael moves forward to tap down the ashes of his cigarette on the ashtray beside you and you force yourself to look back at your papers.

Is Michael one of them?

(…)

“What’s with that face?” Michael asks as walks out of the bathroom.

You look up from your plate of food, the disgusted scowl still in your face.

“This is horrible” You tell him, cringing as you hold your fork in your hand.

Michael chuckles and you look back down, your fork pokes the small pile of overcooked rice and you swear to God that it just jiggled.

How is that even physically possible?

As you’re too ingulfed in your horrible meal, Michael walks to stand next to you and eyes your food from up close. You look over at him and the same exact features of disgust fill his face.

He looks at you as amusement overcomes your emotions and you giggle before looking at the food again.

“That looks…” He starts and you look up at him as he stands straighter, “Delicious” He says, trying his best to motivate you to eat.

You look at him with both a smile and a frown, and he looks at you, biting his lip to contain his other possible descriptions of your so wonderful meal.

“It could honestly be worse” He says, and you gasp.

“Worse?” You ask, smiling in amusement but also confused with his words.

“Yes…?” He answers, “I ate worse when I was here”

“You did not” You disagree.

“I did!” He defends himself.

“You did not!” You repeat, shifting in your seat.

“Y/N, it was way worse. You threw it at the wall once and it stuck!” He emphasizes the last word.

You bite in your laughter at the memory and shake your head.

“Still think it’s worse”

“Then…” He breathes in, serious look on his face, “You’re blind” A small smile cracks at the end.

You laugh a bit and look back at the metal tray. You poke the rice again and it jiggles one more time, making the man beside you chuckle through his noise, under his breath.

“It’s horrible, Michael” You say, slightly upset over this being one of the only meals you have today.

“It is” He finally agrees.

You sigh and put down your fork, falling back against your bed and your pillows.

“You should still eat-”

“I prefer to starve” You answer with a deep breath.

Michael grabs your tray from the small table in front of you and walks over to put it on the counter next to the door. He grabs the apple and throws back to you, landing beside your legs.

“You could’ve hit me” You say.

You grab it and let it rest over your lap as he walks back to the bed.

“Excuse my horrible aim, your highness” He teases, and you roll your eyes, “You’ve done worse to me before”

“Did not” You defend yourself.

“Yes, you did”

He sits down on the side of your bed, next to your legs.

“Like what?”

“You hit me with a jar once, with a rock back in the field, almost stuck a fork on my hand-”

“Those were not on purpose!” You say with a smile.

He smiles back.

“Don’t care. If I was as a careless as you, I could’ve been decapitated by now” He continues, and you giggle at him.

“Decapitated?” You repeat.

“Yes!” He says loudly, “Don’t you remember when you had that machet-?”

“Excuse you?” You ask, sitting up, “That was nowhere near your face!”

“Because I pulled away!” He says as loudly.

You let out a fit of giggles at the memory and the sight of his widen, terrified, eyes back on that day, and Michael stares at you with a smile.

“Good to know my suffering is that amusing”

You giggle away your worries but all of a sudden, you stop laughing abruptly. Your hand rests under your chest as pain starts to spread over your torso. The painkillers probably exceeded their ability to work, over not being able to cover all the pain since you kept on moving.

“You okay?” He asks, worried, smile completely disappearing.

“Yeah, yeah” You say, a small smile of reassurance on your lips, “I think so”

“Want me to check?”

You think for a second and your mind starts overthinking, what if you just popped a stitch?

“No… I think I’m okay”

He looks at you for a little longer and you lean forward a bit.

“I’m good, Michael, don’t worry”

He stays silent while eyeing, worry filling his thoughts, just like yours, and you sigh.

You bring your hand under your hospital gown and touch the thin bandage carefully. Michael watches as you do it, and you almost sigh in relief as you don’t see any blood on your fingertips.

“See? I’m okay”

He nods and you sit up straighter.

“No more laughing for you, then” He says, patting your leg, and another smile starts appearing in your face.

God, you missed this.

(…)

Michael reenters your room as silent as he can and closes the door slowly. The room is now back to its natural darkness of the night, as it is just 5 past 11pm.

You’re still laying on your side in bed, in a deep sleep, just like when he left you to get something warm to drink.

He walks towards you at slow pace, cold fingers wrapped around his paper cup, holding a fresh and hot coffee. He sets it down by your nightstand, letting the steam lift off the liquid into the cold air of the room.

Michael stares down at the vacant part of the bed by your side and lets himself sit next to you.

His mother had just left. You slept the whole way through her visit, but she didn’t seem to mind. She had a lot to talk with him, mostly business.

“She looks so peaceful while she sleeps.”

That’s what his mother had told him as they stared down at you, sleeping under all your blankets before she had to leave. He didn’t answer her. But he agreed.

“You care for her, Michael?”

“Of course, I do.”

The smile she gave him at the sound of those words was unexpected. It was sweet and loving, just like the look she used to give him back when she saw you two together. Back when you were truly together.

It reminds him of all the memories of all the times you would try to annoy him in family dinners.

He doesn’t know why those memories specifically, but he remembers a lot.

The way he would stare at his mom just to try and ignore you further, all because he was “mad” at you. As if he could ever be mad at you. You wouldn’t even hurt a fly at the time. You wouldn’t even screamed back in arguments.

His mother would only smile at him from the other side of the table while seeing you sigh dramatically and lean back on your chair over the lack of response from your pokes and pinches.

Your distressed feelings wouldn’t last long since you would go back to whispering his name right as the family would restart a loud conversation.

You would give up by dessert. You would just grab his hand and lay it over your lap to play with it, obviously bored with all the business talk.

So many things have changed now.

Without even acknowledging it, Michael brings his hand to your cheek. You flinch a little over how cold his fingers are but after that, you give no other reaction. He moves your hair out of your face and smoothly caresses it.

Michael almost feels like his fingers are vibrating. It’s been so long ever since he had touched you like this. Your skin is almost like silk under his calloused fingers.

His finger traces your eyebrow, brushing it carefully as he stares at you, scared to awake you with any sudden movements.

You look so peaceful while asleep, like everything potentially bad in this world had vanished and you were left to just live all there’s good.

He pulls his hand away after some seconds and looks down at you. He grabs onto the top of your blankets and brings them all the way up to your neck, covering any of your exposed skin from the cold wind that is forcing its way in by the small cracks of the windows.

His hand goes back to your face almost at the same second, almost like he misses touching it. It has been so long since the last time he had done it, it almost feels unreal.

In your deep and peaceful sleep, you move your head over the pillow as his movements slow, making his fingers graze over your skin again. Michael doesn’t move, he just lets you do whatever so you can lay comfortably without any interruptions.

The sound of the harsh wind surrounds the room in that same second, hitting and whistling its way against the old windows.

You dip your head a bit under your covers and Michael chuckles through his nose, under his breath. It was almost like watching a cute little chipmunk hiding back inside its tree over the cold.

Without even realizing, in the moments of silence his brain used to create an alternative reality, all he can think of is how much he wants to hold you right now.

His thoughts are completely oblivious to his reality. The one where you two share as much physical touch as two roosters, both fighting for dominance in a chicken filled world. But he can’t help it. He misses you and your touch. He misses your sweet and long hugs, and how warm you always were.

Not even 2 hours ago you two had been playing chess and everything was so… different. He can’t quite understand why, but something in your interactions was pulling the strings of his heart.

It was like 3 days ago when you were discussing your disgusting lunch, where you laughed so hard you two freaked out over ripping a stitch.

Those moments felt unreal to him. Made him feel warm on the inside.

A few hours ago, maybe it was the way you would laugh at his struggles to win the game after his complete horrible plays, or the way you would smile as he looked down at the board thinking.

But it was something.

You’re staring down at the board, chin resting on your fist as you look down at the chess pieces. Your mind going miles a second with all the plays you can imagine, repeating over and over again to see if they made any sense.

You’re surely slow at this game, slower than you were before, but Michael isn’t complaining.

He leans back on his chair, his victory smile already spreading over his lips while you struggled.

“Stop that” You whisper at him, not looking up.

“Stop what?” He asks, humor thick on his tone.

“Stop thinking you’ve already won” You explain.

You look up with a smile on your face as the competitive bones in your body vibrate for you to be able to win this and show him that you’re more than capable to win him 2 times a night.

Michael is already staring. Your gaze meets his almost immediately, it’s both warm and welcoming as the soft and playful nature of your conversation floats in between you.

You bite your tongue and force yourself to look away and back to the board. Your mind is back to blank, you can’t remember the play you had been repeating in your mind.

“The clock is ticking” Michael teases, making your smile widen.

“Stop” You say waving your hand in the air, so he shuts up.

“Better get ready to lose” He sings his words, and you sigh dramatically.

You cover your ears with both of your hands and force yourself into going back to the “chess mentality”. Michael continues to smile down while looking at you and you bite your lips to try and stop yours.

“Ten seconds left”

You glare at him playfully.

“You’re lying”

“Am not, look at the clock”

You ignore him and go back to the board.

“6… 5… 4…” Michael counts down dramatically.

In the middle of the stress and pressure forced upon you, you move one of your pieces without a second thought. As you place it down, Michael shuts up.

You look up at him and he is just staring you amusingly.

“Are you sure about that one?” He asks and you frown.

You look back at your piece and your eyes widen. Why would you do that? You just handed him the whole game in a gold platter.

“No!” You exclaim, hands flying to your face in embarrassment.

Michael’s laughter feels the room and you hear him move his own piece. Your heart swells at the sound of his cackles and you uncover your face to check the board again.

“I’m not playing anymore” You say, voice muffled by your hands.

“Are you officially giving up?” He teases.

You look at the board again and a fake sad look overcomes your face.

“Yes” You sigh.

Michael laughs again and you can almost feel your lips pulling up again. He starts rearranging the pieces and you stare at him as he does it.

“No need to be that sad over this, you’ll eventually get better” He teases.

“Fuck off” You curse.

He smiles widely at your words and you smile back. You continue to stare at him as he carefully places everything back, both of you silent.

As he finishes, he looks up at you.

“Ready to lose?” You ask him and he leans back in his chair.

“As if that will ever happen”

You smile at him while shaking your head and move your first piece, his eyes still on you as you do it.

The fall from those thoughts back to reality is as harsh as one can be.

He shouldn’t even be touching you right now, you probably don’t even want him to. All you’ve done lately is talk and make jokes, doing this will ruin everything.

Michael, right in that same second, retracts his hand away from your face and stands from the bed’s side. He breathes in sharply as he looks down at you and snatches his coffee back from the nightstand.

He shouldn’t be doing this.

He walks away and takes his seat back against the window.

He can’t do this.

(…)

Finally. The day of your freedom. Well, at least some of it. The day you’re finally leaving the hospital.

Polly is not working for the day, but Finn was forced to stay put and do as told. So, it’s just you and her.

You don’t know where Michael is, honestly. He stayed these past few days and nights with you at the hospital, always present in the room whenever you would fall asleep or wake up.

Whenever you would awake, he would be sitting close to the window, smoking and deep in thought. But not today. Your room was empty, with no sight of life except for your own. It was insanely cold there too. Everything felt different, and also extremely uncomfortable.

Polly appeared 2 hours after you woke up and sat up in bed, and many talks with the nurses later, they give you the good news of finally being able to go home.

You know that Polly is in the hallway talking to someone and it has been doing so for some good minutes since she left.

And since she ditched you for whoever that person is, you are now left alone in the bedroom to try and find a way to get dressed. She had brought you clothes from your house, and those same ones were a suit, and, of course, underwear. Some large suit pants, heels, and a silk dress shirt.

She picked those clothes without probably even realizing that you can’t really move at all. And because of that, you can’t stop cursing her enough.

You love that woman, but she does some things that make you question that same love.

You stand over the cold tiled floor with your wobbly legs and shivers run through your body. Why is everything so cold today?

You strip your hospital gown and put on your underwear, hands, or should you say, body shaking in both cold and, of course, pain.

You’ve now learned how you use your torso for almost every movement in your daily life, and you can’t hate this experience more than now.

You take a seat back on the bed and throw your dress shirt over your shoulders, carefully moving your arms, that feel sore, into the sleeves. The white fabric is freezing against your skin, which just makes you want to get dressed faster.

You button some of the buttons at the end of it quickly and grab your pants, pleading that they will bring you some warmth.

Now, how the fuck are you going to get them on?

Putting on your underwear already hurt as it did, and you did it quickly. But what about something like pants? You know, what you need to adjust a thousand times, so they sit well, and that are baggy enough for them to just slide down your legs when not buttoned at your waist.

Where is Polly when you need her?

Right in that same second, the door of the room opens, and you sigh in relief. Polly must have finally remembered the fact that you struggle to even sit for too long.

“Shit, sorry” Michael’s voice sounds behind you and you throw your head back in disappointment.

“It’s fine” You say, annoyance in your tone, but not over him. “It’s not anything you haven’t seen before”

You lean your head back forward and don’t even care to look over your shoulder at Michael, it’s not like you were naked, so it’s not like he’s seeing anything too bad.

You hold your pants in your hands, thinking deeply of every possible way of how you can get them in both of your legs without leaning too forward, like you did with your underwear (and now regret), and quick enough so they don’t just slide off and fall back to your feet.

“Do you need help?” His voice again.

You sit silent for some time, thinking. You could ask him to call over his mom, but what if she’s talking to someone important?

“Yes, please” You admit, giving up.

You hear Michael’s steps behind you, getting closer to the bed, and as soon as he appears next to you, at the end of the bed, you notice that he’s wearing a full suit, unlike any other day. Coat, blazer and vest. His, now, usual way to wear suits.

“I can’t put these on without them falling or hurting myself” You explain with a hint of embarrassment.

He doesn’t say anything, he just lets his eyes fall to your hands and to your pants. Without making you wait any longer, he stands in front of you and takes the piece of clothing from your hands, exposing the skin of your thighs to him and to the cold room.

He crouches and carefully slides each leg of yours into the pants, you don’t even have to do anything, he’s just doing it all.

“Can you stand?” He asks, his voice deep and low, almost in a whisper.

You nod, not looking away from his hands as they rest over your knees, and he takes a small step back for you to have enough space.

As your feet touch the ground again, Michael pushes the rest of the pants up to your torso, where the mostly unbuttoned shirt is. His fingers drag over your skin as they move to pull your pants up, and you almost gasp.

His blue eyes travel from his hands for the first time to your exposed skin. To your stomach, mostly visible over the unbuttoned shirt, to the bandage and to your chest, partly covered by your bra. His eyes almost feel heavy and his breathing quickens at just the sight. You notice it before he even can.

You look up at his face and right on that second, Michael lets go of your clothing. You don’t say anything at first, still feeling his eyes on you, and you swallow harshly as you feel the familiar tingles travel down your torso to the end of your belly.

God, you don’t remember the last time you, actually, felt turned on. It has been so long. But this surely is not when you expected this feeling to come back.

His gaze is so familiar that you almost have to slap yourself to not let your mind travel to so unholy memories. But, deep down, you would be lying if you said that you wouldn’t want him close to you again.

You clear your throat and finally look away.

“Thank you” You whisper.

Michael snaps back to reality and looks up at you. He gives you a small nod and takes another step back, this time, a bigger one.

You lean against the bed, so the baggy waist of the pants can rest over it and not fall, and you bring your shaking fingers to the buttons of your shirt.

You aren’t shaking over the cold or pain anymore. You’ve never felt so hot in your life. You’re shaking over how many emotions you’re feeling all at once.

You struggle a bit at the beginning, but you finally get the hang of it after some embarrassing seconds. Michael watches as your skin disappears under the thin fabric, as well as the small white bandage that covers your wound.

You don’t care that he watches, honestly. You don’t trust your voice all that much right now, so you can’t hide your emotions by teasing him about it, but he surely knows that he shouldn’t be looking.

He has a god damn fiancée.

You finish adjusting your clothes and quickly grab the blazer from the top of your bed, sliding it over your shoulders quickly.

You walk over past Michael to the small mirror in the corner of the room and you do what you can with your hair, since you seem like a mad woman with this much frizz on it.

The door of the room opens again, and you look through the mirror to find Polly.

“You were able to get dressed on your own?” She asks surprised, sparing her son a quick look of confusion.

“I’m a big girl” You answer before Michael can even open his mouth.

You turn back around and walk towards the bed, letting Polly laugh slightly at your comment. You pay attention to your feet as you put on your heels and Polly decides to talk to her son.

“Are you going to talk to Tommy today?” She asks while walking closer to him.

“Yes”

“When?”

There’s a slight pause.

“In an hour” He answers.

You look over your shoulder confused, and they notice it, looking at you with two different looks.

Polly looks like she’s seconds away of explaining to you what this conversation is about, but Michael, god, he looks like he’s about to plead you on his knees to not even ask.

“Can we go home now?” You ask, fulfilling Michael’s silent wishes.

“Of course,” Polly answers.

She’s the first one to start walking out of the room, yet Michael only moves when you start walking after her.

You look over your shoulder a few times to make sure you’re not forgetting anything behind, and Michael does the same, helping you out with an extra pair of eyes.

You follow Polly through the hallways you do not remember walking down before, and you can’t help but feel a little lost and overwhelmed with how long they are. They all look the same, same paintings, same number of windows, same color of the walls. It’s like a maze.

Some nurses stop to look at the three of you and you look down at the stone under your feet, not wanting to show any sort of discomfort or pain over moving, to anyone but the people close you.

Polly opens the crowded hallways of the hospital with her presence as you reach the actual part of the hospital that everyone is using.

Michael stands now beside you, both hands on his pockets while carrying himself with as much confidence as his mother. You almost feel uncomfortable over how different the energy is between them and you.

As you three move around a turn in the hallways, all types of people move as quick as they can out of your way, but a man is not quick enough.

His shoulder hits yours and you look up at him as a reflex. His eyes are filled with worry as they meet yours, his lips read inaudible apologies as you walk away.

Michael’s hand rests over your shoulder that just got hit, and he pulls you in closer to him, away from the crowd. You look away from the man as he shifts his eyes over to Michael, and you move your gaze back to the ground.

Michael glares at the unknown man and holds you in closer protectively, making the man almost cry in apology.

He looks away and looks down at you, finding you staring at the ground. You feel a slight squeeze over your shoulder, but you don’t look up at Michael, you just look up to look at Polly’s figure in front of you.

You all reach the front door of the hospital and a man, who doesn’t even work at the hospital, opens the door for you three. Michael lets you walk in front of him, letting go of your shoulder, and you wait for him by the door before following Polly to the car.

Most of the things you’re doing right now are not even controlled by you, your body is doing them before you even realize. Leaning against Michael, walking close to Michael, letting him touch you, waiting for him so he can stay beside you.

You don’t know what’s going on, but you’re in too much discomfort to even question it.

You reach Polly’s car and Michael opens the door for you. Polly walks around the car to go to the driver’s seat. You struggle a bit to climb up the seat, but you feel Michael’s eyes on you as you do everything.

You finally sit and the door closes beside you. Michael takes his seat at the passenger seat, beside his mother, who starts the car right in the same second.

You lean your head back and sigh under the loud noise of the car, your eyes closed at the soreness of your whole body and the slight pain of your torso.

The drive to Polly’s house is quiet. Nobody dares to open their mouth to ruin the silence as you suffer from the lack of painkillers in your system on the backseat.

You ended up halfway through the drive finding yourself not looking at the road or outside of your window but looking at Michael. He is at a fair distance for you to see his side profile just right, while you’re hidden from Polly’s eyes in the review mirror.

Your mind is blank as you do it, no memories come to hunt you, nor does any other negative feeling. You are at peace for these minutes. Something you haven’t felt for some time.

As Polly’s car comes to a stop in front of her house, you look away from Michael, careful so he wouldn’t notice.

You wonder what has gotten you so focused on him lately.

It’s weird and rather unfamiliar to look at him and not feel some kind of hatred. Maybe it is the fact that he saved your life, a few days ago. But it’s hard to say. There’s surely something else.

It could honestly be anything at this point too. It could be your way to say that you’re thankful for what he did, or even your way to show yourself that you don’t hate him anymore. But do you?

The door beside you opens and you jump in your seat for being so rudely awaken from your thoughts.

“You alright?” Michael asks from beside you.

You just nod.

He steps away from the door and you see Polly already walking inside the house, not even waiting for you two.

You slide slowly off your seat and stand aside from the door so Michael can close it. He does that and you both walk silently inside his mom’s house.

“Are you staying for lunch, Michael?” Polly screams all the way from the kitchen.

You take your jacket off and he looks over at the kitchen to look at his mother, who awaits his answer.

“Uh, no” He answers, also taking his jacket off. “I’m having lunch with Gina, today”

You swallow hard as you turn around and hang your jacket on the wall. Michael is quick to do the same and you keep your distance from him, walking towards Polly.

“Alright, it’s just us then, Y/N” Polly says with a smile to you and you give the same exact smile.

“Guess so” You say, trying to mimic her excited tone but failing horribly.

Michael looks over at you as you answer with an annoyed tone, but you can’t see him over your back being turned to him. He glances at his mom confused and she just gives him a quick shrug.

“I can stay if you want me to” He says, looking at his mom.

“Oh no, don’t worry about us” Polly says, waving her hand in the air to dismiss him, “Y/N is going to be working for most of the day anyways”

Michael does a quick nod, and you walk in the kitchen, leaning against the counter.

Your heart is beating faster than normal, you really weren’t expecting him to offer to have lunch with you two. Was it because of your tone?

Polly walks over to a cabinet and starts to grab the things she will need for whatever she’s making for lunch.

Michael appears next to you and takes a seat on one of the highchairs next to you. You ignore his presence and lace your own fingers together over to counter to hide your sweaty palms.

What is going on with you?

(…)

“Can you please let go of that and eat?” Polly asks you and you look up from the papers in front of you.

“Sorry” You say with a slight smile.

You grab your fork and eye the freshly made meal in front of you. Your mind is heavy with so many thoughts that it’s hard to even want to stop to work. You need to distract yourself, or else you’re going insane.

Could you be liking Michael all over again? Is that what’s happening?

He will hurt you again, you know. He has a person that he loves, now. Gina. You’re nothing to him anymore, just a friend… Oh… Can you even be considered a friend?

Have you even forgiven him yet?

You’re jumping to conclusions just because he is close to you. He has no interest in you anymore, Y/N. Grow out of it. Stand your ground. You’re being ridiculous. Since when are you this weak?

You bring a hand over your forehead in frustration and you rub your skin to try and make the thoughts go away.

“What’s wrong?” Polly asks as she looks up from her lunch at you.

“Nothing” You say, shaking your head a little.

“You lie to me now?” She comments, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest. “Be honest, come on”

“It’s nothing bad, Pol, I swear”

“Just tell me what it is about” She asks, curious, “You’re supposed to be relaxing, and you’ve been all tense since you got here”

You lean back on your chair as well and put your fork down.

You’re falling in love again. You want to forgive him. After so many years of fighting for your worth. Everything in the garbage now. All because he showed you the simplest of human empathy over being shot.

Your heart is beating rapidly against your chest as your gaze shifts over to the ceiling, your body seeking comfort in the memories that rest so deep and distant in your mind as your negative thoughts fight for dominance.

“I feel weak” You comment, “It’s ridiculous, it is. But I can’t help it”

Tears water your eyes in that same second and you sigh loudly at how ridiculous this whole thing is. You shouldn’t be crying. There’s nothing to cry about.

“Why do you feel that way?” Polly asks softly, worry heavy on her tone.

You wipe your tears away quickly and sniffle shortly, not wanting to show how upset you really are.

“I don’t know. I was okay before all of this. All I could feel was anger in me, or I just felt normal, and now-” You gasp for air as a sob fights its way to your mouth, “And now all I feel is sadness. It’s like… It’s like everything is crashing down on me”

Polly stares at you confused. Yes, you haven’t been your so happy self with her since you got home, but she just thought it was because you were tired.

You looked just fine back at the hospital yesterday when you were playing chess with Michael.

She stands in her chair and walks over to you as you wipe your tears forcefully, hating to be this distraught over something you don’t even fully understand.

“What is this about?” She asks, resting her hand over your cheek.

You shake your head, and you swallow your tears quickly. You’re stronger than this.

“I just feel like everything is going backwards” You admit, staying silent for some seconds, “I’m not healing anymore” You breathe in, “It’s like the wound is reopening again and it’s all my fault.”

You don’t use the actual words of what you are feeling. You’re too embarrassed to admit it out loud. But, at the same time, you’re scared that Polly might think you’re weak, or even ridiculous. Just like you do.

You’re at fault here, nobody else is. You made your bed by acting all nice and sweet with him, and now look at what you’ve done. You ruined everything.

Polly eyes you as she rethinks your words, not taking them literally and not thinking about your actual wound, and leans over at you, eyeing you eye to eye.

She frowns a bit as you calm down slowly after your confession and her thumb smooths your skin away carefully.

“Is this about-” She stops herself about instantly. It has to be.

You look away from her embarrassed and she eyes you sweetly. Her other hand coming up to cup your other cheek as she makes you look at her.

She understands it.

It’s like love is crushing you. Crushing your every little bit of strength all over again. Like it’s destroying you and destroying everything you’ve built in these 2 years.

As if your walls are falling, and all its bricks are laying on top of you. Punishing you for not fighting whoever attacked them or threatened to destroy them.

Polly continues to stand silent and pulls you into a hug, you lean forward in your chair and wrap your arms around her, right away. She wraps hers the same way and squeezes you close to her.

Kisses lay over your head as she hugs you close to her and you feel your chin start to shake again.

You’re falling again.

(…)

“Are you listening to me?” Gina asks and Michael looks up at her.

“No, sorry” He says shaking his head a bit, “I was thinking about work”

“It’s okay,” She forgives, “I was saying that I talked to some people back in America today…”

Michael holds a frown almost instantly.

“-And we’ve talked about all sorts of wedding venues” He tenses up, “The price range changes a lot from whether we want an outside reception or not”

“Hum…” He itches the back of his neck, “Yo-you’ve already decided on a date?”

“Of course!” She answers with a smile, “You said back at the ship that the sooner the better and I’ve checked with a lot of people and…” She stops to add suspense to her speech, “We can get it done next month” She announces.

Her excitement is not even slightly mirrored by her fiancé.

“What?” She asks, smile falling off her features, worry in her tone, “Do you not like the idea?”

Michael opens his mouth to answer but closes it right away, so she continues.

“I thought it would be a good thing.” She explains, “Since we’re not doing- what we were supposed to be doing, for now, and it’s always better to come back home earlier than expected- Do-do you not agree?”

“I uhm… I just thought we would have a longer engagement, that’s all” Michael says quickly. “But uhm…”

There are a few seconds of silence until he rethinks her words.

“For now?” He repeats confused, “Gina, god. We won’t be doing our plan anymore. You know that better than anyone.”

“Michael let’s not talk about this, please” She says as she brings her glass of wine to her lips.

“Gina, just listen to me.” He says calmly, “We’re not doing anything. I’ve talked to Tommy today and he’s already dealing with all of this”

“What?”

“I’ve talked to Tommy about-”

“Our plan?!” She asks scared.

“No.” Michael says in a scowl, “I told him what they told us, that they didn’t want to work with us. That’s all”

“Why would you do that?” She asks, disappointment and anger being the only expressions readable on her face.

“Because Gina… We are not doing this anymore” He repeats.

“You shouldn’t have done that” She says, shaking her head, “You should’ve asked for my opinion, for my side on this. You can’t decide everything on your own, I was in this too”

“I had to. It feels wrong to betray my family” He explains, feeling helpless, “How can you not understand?”

There’s a quick silence between them.

“I can’t understand because it was so sudden, Michael. I don’t know what happened when I wasn’t with you here, but we came into this country with a plan. A perfect plan that would only help us both. And now…” She sighs, “You just don’t want to do it anymore?”

“I’ve said this before. It doesn’t feel right to take everything out of my family’s name and put it in mine.” He answers calmly, “I can’t do it to them”

She shakes her head disappointingly.

“We can still live our lives after this plan, Gina. We did it for a year. We can still do it now” He insists. “Our relationship wasn’t about this before, and surely isn’t now”

His words didn’t sound right to him. It didn’t sound like he was convincing Gina anymore; it was like he was convincing himself.

And she noticed the hesitation on his words.

“Why did you say it like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you are actually thinking twice if our relationship was just about business”

“You know that’s not true, Gina” He says disapprovingly.

“Well, it sounds like it” She says, anger on her tone, “I don’t know what has gotten into you Michael. Or what girl got on you, but you have to remember who really is on your side here.” She emphasizes the world ‘girl’.

“What are you talking about?”

“When we came here, she laughed over what happened with you at the Crash. Laughed, Michael. She wasn’t on your side” She exclaims.

He looks down at his food.

“I was always by your side. I was there when we saw all the numbers go down. Where was she? Here, probably cursing you and blaming you for everything that happened”

“It was my-”

“No, it wasn’t. We’ve talked about this. The warning that your cousin gave to you to pull out could’ve been just a false warning, you did what was right-”

“I don’t get where you’re going with this.” Michael interrupts.

He looks back up.

“She is not your fiancée, Michael. I am. I get it that she was in your past, for whatever reason, and that she got hurt. But we came into this country for a reason. Our. Plan. And she made everything stop.”

He stays quiet.

“There shouldn’t be sides for you to pick, Michael. I should be your priority.” She scoffs, “If we’re not here doing anything, then we might as well just leave.”

He stays quiet, again, but this time he shakes his head.

“See? You’re picking to stay here. Again.” She nods. “She’s your priority, Michael. And you should feel disgusted with yourself”

She looks away from him as Michael doesn’t agree or disagree, he just stares blankly at her in silence.

She breathes in deeply and grabs the napkin off her lap.

“I’ll see you back at the hotel. We can talk about this later” She whispers at him.

She rises from her chair and walks away from the table, leaving her dinner not even half eaten and most of her wine still on her glass.

He watches her as she walks away and out of the restaurant, yet his heart doesn’t budge, not even a little. He feels relieved as she walks away, but this new conversation is still difficult for him to process.

There is something stopping him.

Stopping him from disagreeing with her words. Something that is keeping his mind clogged in these situations. Something that whenever close, it makes his heart speed up and question his loyalty. As horrible as that sounds.

He knows what, or rather who, that something is. He doesn’t want to admit it, but it’s there.

And everything is coming back with it. Whether he likes it or not.

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[comphy-and-cozy]

Fallin’ All in You - Ch. 26: Do I Wanna Know? // Michael Gray x Reader

Summary: In which you meet Michael Gray, star hockey player for the NHL team, the Peaky Blinders.

Chapter 26: ~3.4k words. Michael returns home.

My Masterlist

Black Lives Matter

July 3

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

The ringtone you had grown so accustomed to and had since pushed down to the depths of your memory caused you to jump, nearly spilling the glass of wine you had poured.

Closing your eyes, you took a breath. You had been expecting this call, waiting for it for the last 24 hours since you heard the news, knowing it was only a matter of time before you heard the telltale ring of your phone. You quickly shoved your nerves down as you swallowed and answered the call.

“Hi.”

“Hi, Michael.”

You paused, waiting for him to speak.

“I’m coming home, baby,” he said, so soft that, if not for the context, you wouldn’t be certain he was talking to you. Still, the pet name was not lost on you as his words sank in.

“I saw that, congratulations,” you offered, ignoring his display of affection. “I’m sure Zay and the boys are excited to have you back.”

There was another pause after he hummed. “And what about you? Are you excited to have me back?”

The double meaning was obvious, and he’d cast it out into the open, waiting, hoping that you’d bite.

You smiled for the first time. “Of course, Michael.”

“Can I see you?”

“When?”

“Tonight. Tomorrow. Any time. I want… I need to see you.”

“Okay, Michael.”

You made plans to meet at your favorite coffee shop the next day, as there was a nice and usually pretty private patio to sit at and enjoy the sunshine; the thought of having him in your house again wasn’t something you were ready for, and you figured a neutral location would be best. Being Independence Day, most people would be out on the lake, and you had the day off, allowing you more time to process whatever the fuck was going to happen.

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