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#finn cole imagine
eviegray · 2 years
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imagine: michael gray comforts/helps you during a panic attack
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you've never felt this way before. sure, you've been anxious before but had never gone through something like this.
you could swear you couldn't breathe. it's like your throat was deliberately closing itself and not allowing the air to circulate through, your heart racing at unbelievable speed... dizziness... palpitations and chest pain.
it felt like you were slowly being detached from your own body... almost as if you were watching yourself from someone else's perspective and you could do nothing about it.
lost in your thoughts, you didn't realise michael had entered the room.
as he stepped into the living room, michael's smile slowly faded as he saw you standing, almost as if you were in pure shock, trying your very best to breathe.
when his eyes landed on your figure, he dropped all the paperwork he was carrying and went to your rescue.
"sweetheart, talk to me. what is happening?" he asks, clear worry in his voice.
in all honesty, you tried, but you couldn't bring yourself to speak.
"it's okay baby, come sit down with me. it should help." he holds your hand and carefully guides you to the sofa with him.
michael's heart broke seeing you like this. he hated the fact that he wasn't there to help you since the beginning and you almost had to go through this horrible thing alone.
not anymore. he was there now, and he was going to help you.
"it's ok love. try to focus on your breathing only. is it ok if we try to breathe at the same time together? very slowly?" he asks.
you nod yes and carefully follow his instructions.
slowing inhaling and exhaling... you both do it a couple of times until you start feeling yourself coming back.
while he tries to get you to come back to your senses, he holds you close to his body.
"you're doing so well baby, I'm so proud of you. let's just keep going for a little bit longer until we get there ok?" he asks.
"okay, but can you please keep holding me?" you ask.
"of course I will. I wouldn't let you go, especially now." you can feel his arms getting tighter around your waist, his face around your neck... how comfortable and warm he feels against your skin...
michael brings you such comfort that it doesn't take too long for you to be back to normal.
"there we go. that's my baby back. how are you feeling now love?" he asks as he softly caresses your face.
"i think i'm alright now. thank you for helping me michael." you say, voice low.
"i'll always be here for you love. I'll never let you go through anything like this alone. never ever." he replies as he lays down with you, pulling your body next to his, giving you a gentle forehead kiss.
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barrykeoghanstan · 7 months
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Friend: You're unhinged
Me: No, I'm not. I'm just saying it would be hot as fuck to let each of the Shelby brothers + Micheal to have their way with me
Friend: ......
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Peaky Blinders | S05E06
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lilahisntsadanymore · 2 years
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The Shelbys find themselves in yet another war with one of other Romani families. Things get even worse when Michael and a girl from the other family mysteriously disappear one day.
The reader pronouns: she/her
Pairing: Michael Gray x reader
Words count: 3.2k
Tw: swearing, mentions of violence, lightly implied sexual intercourse
I see this happening somewhere in season 2 or 3, but it doesn't contain any scenes from the show.
Y/d/n - your dad's name
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
Problematic Sweethearts
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(gif not mine)
A loud thud of the door sounded through the Shelby betting shop. Tommy walked in angrily, it could be sensed by his steps. He stopped by the table in the middle of the room, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.
The rest of the family was very busy that day. Nobody paid attention to Tommy until he furiously hit the wooden surface with his bare fist.
"Fuck!"
John shifted his gaze from the chalkboard he was standing by to his brother. "What have you done this time?"
There were many options. Most things Tommy did brought trouble to the family. But this time it wasn't his fault.
"Not me, the Lovells." Thomas replied. "They stole a horse of mine."
Well, not entirely his fault, but at some point he could have prevented that by either stopping the conflict or not starting it in the first place.
It started when another pub opened nearby The Garrison. The Shelbys were afraid it might steal their clients, so Tommy's idea was to start spreading lies about the other pub to make people not wanna go there.
It worked. And when the owner of the new pub found out about it, he immediately traced it to the Shelbys. In that moment, a war started. Lovells fired back with sabotaging Shelbys' betting business (this one didn't really work, noticing how much work they still had) and then the Shelbys fired back with another 'brilliant' idea and now it was getting more dangerous.
Everyone in Small Heath, or maybe even in the whole Birmingham, knew how important horses were to Tommy Shelby. The Lovells knew that stealing his horse was going to hurt.
"So we're gonna go cut them now, yeah?" John asked, putting his hat on and walking to the door. He was being serious.
"John," Esme spoke, causing her husband to stop in his tracks, "quit being so rash, it could get you killed one day."
Polly would hate to admit that, but in this moment she thought Esme was right. Nothing else needed to be added, although John protested.
"I'm sick of them fucking with us," he gnarled through his teeth, "we have to do something to stop this."
"Cutting them clearly won't help then!"
The small dispute between John and his wife was interrupted by Michael entering the betting shop. He had a grin on his face. Others noticed that there was something dodgy about him lately.
"Morning everyone." Michael's enthusiastic voice said. He didn't sense the tense atmosphere.
Tommy raised an eyebrow. "What's up with you, eh?"
Michael chuckled and shook his head. "What do you mean?" Looking at everyone's faces, he finally noticed something's off. "What's up with you lot?"
"The Lovells stole a horse from Tommy's stable." Polly told him.
The taut atmosphere was ripped to shreds by laughter coming from Finn and Isaiah. At first, they were whispering to each other, but eventually they couldn't keep quiet.
Everyone's eyes were turned to the two youngest peaky blinders. They couldn't understand what's so funny about that situation.
"What're you two laughing at?" Polly asked.
The boys tried to put on straight, serious faces. They gave each other a look, deciding which one should do the explaining.
"It's just amusing," Finn was the one to speak, "how you are all so caught up with that little war between us and the Lovells, while Michael just sneaks out to shag Y/n from time to time."
Now all heads turned to Michael as he shot Finn a death stare. He didn't know anyone knew about his small affair with Y/d/n Lovell's daughter. It was supposed to be a secret, because otherwise some people could get hurt. Some people, including Michael himself.
" Y/n Lovell? Is that true?" Polly asked.
The question was targeted at Michael, but he didn't manage to say anything before Isaiah spoke.
"We're pretty sure he was so jolly when he walked in there, because he had just seen her."
A loud sigh escaped Tommy's mouth. "Michael, you know what our situation currently looks like. Why are you so irresponsible?"
"We started seeing each other before all this happened." Michael defended himself calmly.
"Seeing each other." Polly's quiet scoff sounded in the room as she lit up a cigarette.
"You have to stop it." Tommy continued. "We don't know her intentions, she might want to use you to investigate the whole company."
"We love each other!" Michael's eyes were looking at Thomas furiously, as if he really meant what he had just said.
"Love!" Polly emphasized dramatically. Her free hand found its way to her head to rub the temples.
"Call it whatever you want, Michael, but you're going to tell that girl that it has come to an end. As soon as possible."
"Y/n has no interest in your stupid conflict and neither do I. I won't end things with her."
"We'll make sure you do end it. But this way the ending won't be so pleasant."
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
"They are so going to regret staring this war," Y/d/n chuckled as he took a sip of whiskey from his glass.
"Are we going to return it someday?" His business partner asked.
Both men were sitting in the Lovells' living room.
"Return? Are you out of your mind, Will? We are not going to return it!"
"Horses are living beings, they have emotions, they get attached to their owners..."
"That doesn't matter! That horse is now ours. It is now mine. Thomas Shelby shouldn't have started this conflict."
Y/n returned back home from a meeting with Michael exactly in time to hear the end of her father's conversation.
"What horse?" She asked. "And what does Thomas Shelby have to do with it?"
"We stole his horse. Silly threats have come to an end, now we're getting serious. If that doesn't help, we'll become handsy with his people," the man pulled out a dagger and started fidgeting with it.
"This is wrong. We came here a few months ago and the Shelbys basically run Birmingham, you should accept that."
"Are you telling me to give up? That would be an embarrassment to our family, Y/n!"
"This whole conflict is an embarrassment! You stole a man's horse to show him what exactly? It's like shooting someone in the back of his head! You were a soldier, should know what dignity is."
"Don't talk to your father about dignity," Will interrupted unnecessarily, "especially when you fraternize with the enemy."
Y/d/n looked at his business partner and then back at his daughter, who had confusion written on her face. She wondered, how and when Will found out.
Nobody was supposed to know. Y/n and Michael were always making sure nobody's following them.
"Fraternize with the enemy?" Y/d/n questioned, his nostrils flaring. "What is he talking about?"
Y/n panicked, she began stuttering and gesturing pointlessly. She wasn't prepared for this. Neither she nor Michael have ever thought of making up a spare, fake explanation in case something like this happened. And the girl wasn't very good at making up lies in seconds.
Noticing how Y/n couldn't find any words, William continued. "She's been seen with Michael Gray, a cousin to the Shelbys, Polly Gray's son."
"Were you spying on me?!" Y/n barked at Will. She never liked him and now she at least had a reason to yell at him.
"So you had been seen with that boy, you're not denying it." Y/d/n said.
"Yes, I'm not denying, because it's true. I love him and he loves me."
"Love? Please, what can you know about love? He is an enemy, you have to stop this!"
"The only thing that should be stopped is your stupid war! I will not be a part of this!"
Y/d/n squeezed his glass so hard that it broke in his hand. "Bloody hell," he cussed, "go to your room and don't even dare talking to me again without changing your mind!"
Y/n ran to her room on the same floor - the ground floor, her footsteps barely audible. It was a great skill of her - walking without making a sound.
The girl sat on her bed until late evening. She didn't cry, it wasn't a good reason to waste tears for. Instead, Y/n was making up a plan. A plan that would let her keep seeing Michael while her father thinks they are done.
Y/n's thoughts were interrupted by an interesting sound. Almost as if someone was knocking on her window. At first, she felt disturbed by the sound. Remembering a few books she read - this was never a good thing.
But Y/n immediately calmed down, when she saw Michael on the other side of the window.
Y/n opened the window. "What are you doing here?" She shouted in a whisper, not hiding her astonishment.
"My family found out about us," Michael informed, "they told me to break up with you."
"I was told the same. I don't wanna break up with you, we have to think of something."
"Come with me," the boy offered his hand to his girlfriend.
Y/n was hesitant. There was a voice at the back of her head saying it's a bad idea. "Where? We have nowhere to go, we have no money."
"I have some money! And a gun. I'm bad at shooting, but I'll figure it out. So, are you going?"
Y/n heard sudden footsteps. Fortunately, it was just someone walking by her door, not entering her room. She looked back at her boyfriend and took his hand, so that he could help her walk out of the window.
It was dark outside, the only source of light were lonely street lamps, many feet away from one another. Although, he lovers were still barely visible, because the light was dim.
"Where are we headed?" Y/n asked, lightly swaying her arm intertwined with Michael's arm by their hands.
"To the train station."
"And then...?"
"To the countryside."
In the morning the couple reached their destination, Michael took his girlfriend to the same village he grew up in. Of course, Y/n had no idea he was taken away from his birth mother as a young kid and Michael didn't feel like mentioning this. He just had to make sure they won't stumble across the family that adopted him.
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
"Michael is gone," Polly bursted into her nephew's flat, "Tommy, Michael is gone!"
The man had just woken up, it was a very early hour. He didn't expect such sudden visit from his aunt.
"How is he gone?" Tommy asked, his voice even deeper than usual. He decided to lit up a cigarette in the order to wake himself up quicker.
"He wasn't home for the night. It is your fault! First the Lovells stole your horse and now they took my son!" The woman was furious. If it was anyone else than a member of her family, she wouldn't hesitate to cut his throat or put a bullet in his head.
Polly thought they took Michael when he went to tell Y/n this is the end of their relationship. The girl's father could have seen him and hurt him. In the worst case, Michael could be even dead. But Polly didn't want to give up at the beginning. No Shelby would ever do such thing.
And so, a sudden family meeting was called. Every Shelby gathered in The Garrison. Polly told everyone that Michael didn't come home for the night and Tommy proposed a plan. The idea was to locate where Michael could be, if alive, and then just break him out. Maybe they would even manage to get back the stolen horse as well.
Unfortunately (or rather fortunately, because it made them sure Michael is alive), the plan was greatly changed by an unexpected visit. The door of The Garrison opened, revealing Y/d/n Lovell.
"Where is my daughter?!" He yelled, looking around the pub. "How dare you kidnap her?!"
"Oi, no snooping around!" Tommy reminded the man that he can't just walk into a place and start searching it. He wasn't a policeman or anyone of that kind. "Did your daughter disappear?"
"Don't act like you know nothing about this! I know you sent someone to kidnap her. You broke into my house through a window in her room and took her!"
Then it clicked in Tommy's head. It clicked in everyone's heads. Maybe even in Y/d/n's head, but he didn't want it to be true.
"Mr Lovell, I'm afraid it wasn't an abduction," Tommy explained, "our Michael disappeared as well."
"What do you say then, Mr Shelby?" The man knew exactly what his rival meant, but hoped that wouldn't be it.
Arthur stood up. "The lovebirds ran away together."
"Exactly." Tommy agreed. "And we have to work together if we want to see them again in this lifetime."
"Don't be so dramatic, Tommy," Finn chimed in with a chuckle, "how far could they go?"
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
Not so far, at least for now. It was the beginning of summer, so as long as the weather wasn't that bad for England, the lovers wanted to stay on the countryside. They would think of another place in the future.
For now, there wasn't a single worry in their minds. There in the countryside they could be themselves and do whatever they wanted.
Michael spotted a small barn he recognized. It had been abandoned for a few years before Tommy came to him and nothing seemed to change. It was a perfect temporary home.
On the day they arrived here, they decided to be lazy. There weren't any urgent things to take care of. In the evening they lit up a small fire nearby the barn and sat down by it.
"Do you really think it was a good idea to set up a fire by a wooden building?" Y/n asked, leaning her head on Michael's shoulder.
"I took all precautions," the boy assured, "I made more bonfires than you can imagine and none ended badly."
Y/n chuckled. "I see, you're an expert."
The couple sat by the fire in a comfortable silence, they didn't wanna talk for a while. Y/n straightened out her legs and as she did that, Michael's hand quickly found its way to her thigh.
Y/n felt goosebumps forming on her skin despite the heat the fire was producing. She turned her head a bit in the other to place her lips on Michael's neck. Y/n started pecking his skin, moving up to his jaw, then along the jawline to eventually end up connecting his lips with hers in a kiss.
Without breaking the kiss, Michael ran his hands to Y/n's waist and helped her straddle him. Then he felt his girlfriend's hands creep up his neck to eventually dive in his short hair, pulling it lightly. That small movement was enough to make him release a throaty moan.
Y/n pulled away for a moment. "Do you wanna take it inside?"
The couple walked into the barn and then up to the hayloft. There was still some hay left, which made them feel more comfortable, more cosy. It was a good replacement for a bed.
«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»
"Michael!"
"Y/n!"
"I'll check the barn, you search the surroundings!"
Y/n slowly opened her eyes, the shouting outside woke her up. She was lying down, her head on Michael's naked chest that was calmly moving up and down as he still slept. That lad was a heavy sleeper.
The girl sat up and stretched her arms. Then, she quietly walked to the hole in the barn's wooden wall that was supposed to be a window. Looking outside, she noticed Thomas Shelby walking their direction.
"Michael," Y/n whispered, lightly shaking her boyfriend to wake him up, "Michael, wake up. They have come for us."
"What? Who?" Michael asked confusedly, his mind only half awake.
"Well, I saw Tommy, but-"
"Tommy? What the hell is he doing here?"
"Looking for us. We have to-"
The girl suddenly stopped talking and put a finger up in a sign for Michael to stay quiet as well.
One of Tommy's first ideas was to search for to runaways in the countryside. After all, that's where Michael grew up, he knew this place well and felt safe there. Too safe, that's why he could have wanted to hide here.
When Tommy noticed the freshly extinguished bonfire nearby the abandoned barn, he figured they might be hiding there.
In the silence, Y/n and Michael heard the ladder that led to the hayloft creaking. The girl mindlessly grabbed the gun that Michael mentioned on the previous day. Or a day before that.
"What the fuck are you gonna do with that?" The boy asked, trying to rip the gun form his girlfriend's hand. "Don't shoot him!"
"Relax, I'm just gonna scare him off!"
"I don't think Tommy Shelby is a person you could scare with a gun," he paused, "I don't think he is a person to get scared in general."
"Good day, lovebirds." Tommy said sarcastically, his head peaking into the hayloft.
Y/n set down the gun.
"Hello, Tommy." Michael replied, putting his shirt on.
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same question."
"Your mother is worried sick, Michael. You've had your fun, it's time to go back home. Y/n, your father is here. He's been worried as well."
"Tommy, we're not coming back."
"Sure, come down and we'll talk about this," he stepped down the ladder.
The couple looked at each other. Whether they wanted it or not, they had to come down, Tommy didn't give them a choice. But they knew he will try anything to talk them into coming home and even breaking up. That meant they had to fight.
When the lovers got down from the hayloft, they saw four men in front of them - Y/d/n and three out of four Shelby brothers.
Y/n had guilt displayed on her face, while Michael didn't show a single emotion. He looked each man in the eyes, stopping on his girlfriend's father.
"We are not sorry," the boy spoke, "we love each other and won't let your stupid conflict ruin what we have."
"How dare you-" the oldest man reached to his gun.
"At ease, Mr Lovell, at ease," Tommy stopped him, then turned to the boy. "Michael, care to explain? Or Y/n?"
It was a rhetorical question, Tommy wasn't asking. He gave an order. And he expected the order to be done.
"What else do you expect us to say?" Y/n snapped. "We're in love and that's it. Have you ever been in love, Thomas? Have any of you ever been in love? If yes, you would have known it's not a choice. It's a feeling you can't control or get rid of."
Then Tommy understood it. His mind wandered to the time he met Grace, to the time he started falling for her. Y/n was damn right, love is a feeling that cannot be controlled, predicted or prevented.
Arthur cleared his throat. "Gentlemen, I think she might be right."
Y/n crossed her arms on her torso and sent a triumphant look to her father. "Nothing can do us apart. Just think about it, our relationship is a great reason to stop this war. Kind of like Romeo and Juliet, but without anyone dying!"
"We can't forget about our past that easily," the father looked spitefully at Tommy.
"Not forget, but forgive."
"Let bygones be bygones." Michael added, taking Y/n's hand in his.
They were right. It was the time to end the ridiculous conflict. Maybe Y/n and Michael's relationship could even give a beginning to an alliance between the Lovells and the Shelbys.
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virgoilluminati · 11 months
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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
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@ finn_cole
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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 ✌🏻
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@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
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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 ❣️
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@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
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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.
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@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
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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
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@ 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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themultifandomgal · 6 months
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Finn Cole- Red Carpet Interview
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Finn and I exist our car together ready for our season 5 premiere and interviews. I smooth out my dress before taking Finns arm and we make our way down the carpet taking photos and doing interview
"Hi, how are you both this evening?" One of our interviewers asks
"We're good thank you, excited for tonight" I smile replying
"Watching the show it's about the Shelby family, but I get the impression you guys are actually a family off screen. You both seem to be with Harry a lot when your not filming"
"Yeah we're definitely a family, and I think we're lucky that we can say that" Finn says with a hand now around my waist
"Harry and I are the closest in age he's only like a year older than me so we have really grown up together from season 1. I always say that Harry is my annoying twin, Cillian is the dad, Paul the cool uncle, Sophie is my big sister and Jos like a brother to me"
"A real family then. I guess that makes filming so fun and easy for you guys?"
"Definitely. I can't imagine working on a set we're you haven't got these friendships" Finn replies
"I have to say in the last season we saw YCN toughen up a bit, will that continue throughout the next season?"
"For sure. We are going to see a lot of different things that YCN will struggle with which makes her really angry I guess and at times she will loose her cool"
We're then moved on to our next interview
"Hi how are you doing?" we're asked again
"We're well thank you"
"It's so lovely to see everyone coming out and dressing up. I've seen some people in period clothing"
"Oh wow I love that"
"That's brilliant. That's what we've, we've created a show we're people can get involved and can dress up and can enjoy it for the same reasons we can enjoy it and it's a really special thing in tv..." I see Natasha walk over to us smiling
"Oh hello" I smile interrupting Finn
"Hello" she smiles back
"Sorry babe carry on, I get distracted so easily" I tell the interviewer who laughs
"We we're just saying how nice it is to see everyone dressed up"
"Oh I love it, and the vibe, I wash just told that this is where they would stand to sign up for the war. And since the show focuses so heavily on PTSD it's really quite emotional" Nat says
"As actors what is it about Stevens writing that jumps out of that script when you first see it"
"Oh I only read my parts" I joke but don't last long because I start laughing "No I'm kidding. Erm for me it's how I'm kept at the edge of my seat. Like I can't ever predict what's going to happen"
"You can hear the music coming of the pages"
"It's one of those experiences reading something where it's so visual but every sentence is so exciting" I nods agreeing with Finn
"YN in season 4 we finally got to see YCN fall in love. Will that transpire into this season?"
"Yes. Unfortunately Jordan had brier engagements so wasn't able to film with us anymore so Daryl was casted and he's just slotted right in with all of us"
"What about Micheal. Will we get to see him fall in love this season?"
"Ah that you'll have to wait and see" Finn says making me chuckle because his answer basically was yes.
Move move on to another interview this time just Finn and I. This time it's an interviewer who has interviewed me since season 1
"It's good to see you both again"
"It's good to see you as well. How have you been?" I ask
"I really good thank you. You know I look back at my old interviews with you all and everyone looks practically the same, but then there's you and Harry who now look like actually adults" I laugh at her making the comment
"I know it's crazy. We filmed the pilot when I was 12 and now I'm 20 so it's crazy that nearly 10 years I've been with these guys"
"Well what is the dynamic like on set of a program of a drama like peaky blinders because it's very intense"
"Oh it's horrible" Finn jokes earning a nudge off me
"You know what's weird we would be doing a really intense scene but the moment we hear cut, we all burst out laughing" I say smiling "in season 4 I had to throw a drink at Lizzie but I only really had one chance so we did it over and over again with an empty cup. Then when we were ready we did it for real and I felt to bad. So as soon as we stopped filming I hugged her and kept apologising while Nat was just laughing the whole time"
Finn and I finish up with more interviews and some photos, watching the first episode of season 5 and then finally going to a little after party with all of the cast.
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If we get caught, I’m blaming you [j cody x fem!reader]
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18+ minors DNI!
Word count: 996
Prompts:
51 if we get caught, i’m blaming you
22 did I give you permission to do that?
56 look at your reflection. Look at how gorgeous you are. So fucking gorgeous when I’m fucking you like this. So pretty for me, and only me
7 louder, let me hear you
63 oh, sensitive there, aren’t we?
Warnings: smut (18+), shower sex, mention of a gun (not used towards anyone), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it guys), choking, getting caught (kinda)
——————————————————————————
“Smurf is going to kill us, if we get caught, I’m blaming you”, you tell him as both of you scurry into the bathroom, not even closing the door since the bedroom one seemed to be enough not to get caught.
He presses his body into yours, your lower back coming in contact with the counter of the sink behind you. Effortlessly, he grabs the back of your thighs to lift you up and sit you onto the counter. While his lips attack your neck with kisses and take the chance to carefully suck on your skin, your hands wander to his lower back where you pull on his shirt but your fingers land on something else - metal.
A moan escapes your throat as you grab the gun and put it next to you on the counter. You go back and pull his bloody shirt over his head and throw it somewhere in the room.
“Shower”, you now mumble against his lips and already try to hop off the counter.
Guests would be arriving in the next five minutes and both of you still needed to get cleaned up, washing the blood off your bodies from the job you pulled and nobody needed to know about - no one besides your family of course. Smurf took you in when you were younger and your parents just didn’t care about you, so they someday dropped you off at her front door but things got complicated when J came around about a year ago - because family doesn’t screw family and it never mattered if you were her real daughter or not.
This was the second job you pulled as a family after she finally caved in and gave J the chance to prove himself as trustworthy and the tension was thicker than usual, everyone still feeling the adrenaline. The blood on your clothes wasn’t his or yours, Baz lost it and shot one of the civilians, not a deadly shot but enough you and J would look like it got either of you.
He kisses you hungrily while pulling your shirt over your head and unclasping your bra on your way into the shower. After pulling away for a second to turn on the water, you already work on the button of your jeans shuffling them down your legs with your underwear.
J closes the gap between your body, pressing his body into you before pulling away from your lips once more, grabbing your ass in your hands as you work the belt and button of his jeans: “Shit, did I give you permission to do that?”, smiling as he looks down at your naked form when you take things in your own hands again and push him into the shower, letting the door fall shut behind you. He pulls his pants and underwear down, not trying to break the kiss as both of you get drenched from the stream of water above you.
“Need to hurry”, you tell him and turn around to press your body into the glass, fingers reaching for his cock.
He gives it a few tugs, the noises only amplified by the stream of water, before he teases your entrance rubbing his length up and down a few times. You brace your hands before you, trying your best not to slip on the wet shower floor when you spread your legs further, pushing back against him. The moan that escapes your lips is breathy and shaky in your throat as he pushes himself into the hilt, filling you up completely. His hand sneaks on the side of your neck before deciding against fully wrapping around and instead he collects your wet hair and gives a little tug, pulling your head slightly backwards which makes your head spin and brace your hands in front of you against the glass while you look at him, brows furrowed just like yours and water spilling down the back of his neck and back. He lets go of your hair and grabs your tits in one hand each with a firm grip.
His thrusts are fast, setting a rhythm that’s better than you could’ve ever imagined when touching yourself only a few doors down from him.
The following words let your forehead fall onto glass while trying to match your movements with trembling knees: “Look at your reflection. Look at how gorgeous you are. So fucking gorgeous when I’m fucking you like this. So pretty for me and only me”, his voice drops to a possessive tone down to your ear and you can feel yourself clenching around him, your orgasm nearing when you actually dare and take a look into the mirror in front of you. Him behind you, now with a vice grip on your hips all while your body is pressed to the glass of the shower, taking him like you always thought about. Your whimpers turn into silent moans and cries for help, desperate for your release.
“Louder, let me hear you.”
Squeezing your eyes shut you try your best and concentrate on keeping your mouth shut, too scared to get caught. One hand reaches between your thighs to draw circles on your clit and suddenly a high pitched moan leaves your lips, letting your head fall back on his shoulder, legs trembling as you’re right on the edge.
“Oh, sensitive there, aren’t we?”
A slap on your ass rips another moan from your lips. His own movements get sloppy as he keeps fingering your clit, making you come with a cry, body tensing and legs almost buckling out under you as he follows just seconds later. You catch your breath as your trembling hands slide down the glass when he pulls out, leaving you wanting more already.
“I hope you guys are done, Smurf just got back from the store”, Derans voice says from outside the door, causing both of you to wince.
You can be fucking lucky she left in the first place.
~ M
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Fuck You (Baz Blackwell)
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Description: Baz and Y/N have a lot of tension between them but Baz is married. Spoilers for the ending of Season 2!
Warning: Smut, Cheating
Word Count: 2,418k
Author's note: This is my first fic that's not Hannibal related. I have one in the works right now but I am so busy today that I had to post a pic that I wrote a month ago while watching Animal Kingdom. If you haven't watched the show I recommend.
It started with glances during Jobs, stares while the other wasn’t looking. Touches being discreet and “accidentally”. She was 22 and he was in his late 30’s with a wife and a kid. She hated him though. He wasn’t a good person. None of them were really but Baz especially. He wasn’t the best dad and he cheated on his wife. It was clear that the two wanted each other but fought against it. She didn’t like the way Baz treated the rest of them. He was demanding and frankly it was kind of a turn on. But she wouldn’t admit that. Not out loud anyways.
Baz was running a job like always and was being a dick. Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes. J smirked at her reaction agreeing with her nonetheless. Baz ignored her reaction and kept explaining who needed to do what. “And Y/N you will be with me.” He tells her. She can’t miss the mocking smirk on his lips. She holds back the most dramatic sigh and eye roll and just nods. It wasn’t like she had a choice. 
Baz for some reason let J help his uncles but not her. No, never her. She’s been around them for years and has helped but not today. It’s like Baz wanted to torture her. She hated him for it. J could have been the lookout like last time but Baz actually wanted to torture her. “Text them 2 minutes.” He broke her out of her thoughts. She sighed and texted J 2 minutes. Baz kept his eyes off the girl. He shouldn’t feel this way but he does. She was beautiful and sassy. “So I think we should address the tension between us.” He stated. She looked at him like he had 2 heads. “You wanna talk about your fantasy on a job?” She asked. He was ridiculous. “Got nothing better to do.” He said. He was still able to focus and talk. It was mind blowing to her. “Address what tension?” She asked. She was playing dumb. She knew what he was talking about. But wanted to hear it out of his mouth. “You’re into me I know it.” He shrugged.
She could have slapped him if it wasn’t for the smirk that was on his lips. “No I'm not, it seems that it’s you who’s into me.” She states with the same mocking smirk. He shrugged. “Yeah but at least I can admit it.” Her eyes widened. She wasn’t expecting that from him. Why tell her now? On the job. The boys returned before she had time to really process what Baz said. Leaving the conversation opened. 
She sighed in the shower as she thought about what Baz said. She couldn’t lie. She felt the same way but what about Lena and Katherine? Y/N wasn’t going to ruin that. Lena and Kath deserved better. That’s for sure. Alexis knew that Baz cheated on Kath but now he wants it to be her. Yeah right. It wasn’t happening. Y/N was better than that. After her shower she got out and looked in the mirror. Was she better than that? All she wanted to do right now was jump into Baz’s arms after his confession. She shook that thought out of her head.
As she was getting dressed she heard a knock on the door. “Someone’s in here.” She said pulling up her pants. “It’s Baz.” “Still doesn’t change anything.” “Well it should.” She ignored him and got dressed. “Come on Y/N open the door.” He said. Once she was dressed she opened the door. “What Baz?” She asked, annoyed. He smirked and backed her up to the wall in the bathroom. “You need to stop acting like you don’t want me.” He tells her. They were in kissing distance. “I’m not acting like anything.” She says. “Then let me fuck you like you deserve.” He whispers. She sighs and closes her eyes. He leans down and kisses her neck.
She moans and wraps her hands around his neck. He made sure to leave a hickey. “Baz this isn’t right.” She moans as he attacks her neck. He hummed against her. “Like you give a shit.” He says. He pulls back and kisses her hard. She kisses back immediately forgetting about anything but Baz. He picks her up and she wraps her legs around his waist. Their lips move sloppily against each other. They pull away breathing hard. “You should have opened the door when I told you too. Now I gotta undress you.” He said. He pulled her shirt off and smirked. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Why would she be? She just got out of the shower. “Baz, please touch me.” She begged. He leaned down and latched onto her nipple. She gasped as his tongue circled her nipple and sucked on it.
She held his head and moaned his name. He pulled away after a few more seconds. “I’m barely touching you and you’re moaning.” He said. She got out of his arms and she pulled down her PJ bottoms. She had a white lace thong. His mouth watered at the sight. He made eye contact with her as he sank to his knees. He ran his nose over her clothed clit. She whimpered and gasped. He smirked and took a big whiff of her pussy. “Mmm you smell so good baby.” He said. He pulled down her thong. Her jaw was open as he did so.
He wrapped her legs around his shoulders and stood up. She grabbed ahold of his head as she was scared to lose balance and fall. Baz wouldn’t let that happen. He started kitten licking her pussy. She cried out his name. He licked and sucked her button as her head fell back against the wall. If Baz wasn’t holding her up she would have lost balance. Her moans and cries got louder. Neither cared that his brothers probably heard. “Baz fuck Baz.” His name was all she knew as his tongue was pretty much inside of her. He hummed and she gasped out his name feeling close. She had never felt this close so fast before. “Baz I’m gonna cum fuck please don’t stop.” She moaned. He didn’t and she fell over the edge with a silent scream. He slurps up every last drop of her. She tried pushing his face away after her high was over. He smirked up at her as she looked down at him in a daze. Her breathing was still hard and she couldn’t think straight. He dropped her slowly back down on her feet. She kissed him and moaned. The taste of her was all over his mouth.
She pulled on his shirt and he ripped it off. Her hands traveled over his torso. She traveled down to his jeans and unzipped them. He helped her pull them down. His boxers were a little damp with pre cum. She tried to sink to her knees but he stopped her. “I need to fuck you sweetheart.” He tells her. She nods and he pulls down his boxers. She jumps and wraps her legs around his waist feeling his hard dick near her pussy. He positioned himself at her entrance and she took a deep breath. He thrusted in her and she whimpered. Sure she’s been with other guys but Baz was older and much bigger. He let her adjust to his size before he started fucking her.
Her pussy was like a dream for him. He hadn’t really been with a younger woman. Let alone someone who lived in the same house as his family did. “Baz you can move now.” She begged. He thrusted in and out of her like it was all he could do. She gripped his shoulders hard. Her face looked blissed out and it was all he could think about and within 2 minutes he was already close. Her moans of his name didn’t help either. “Baz fuck.” He gripped her neck. “Are you close, baby? Are you gonna cum all of my cock like it’s yours.” He whispered. She groaned and nodded. He felt her clench around him and he cursed. He couldn’t hold back. He came with a grunt. She came right after him. The two fell into a silence after it was over. He pulled out of her and carefully.
He got dressed while she just stared at him. She couldn’t believe what just happened. She felt guilty but knew that she shouldn’t. It’s not like she owes Kath anything. But that wasn’t a great way to look at things. “Well I’ll see you around.” He said and walked out of the bathroom. She was so confused by that. They just fucked and it’s a see you around? 
Baz hasn’t looked in her direction since that night. She felt sick. It was like he got what he wanted and used her like a toy. She wanted to punch him in the face for what happened. She was pissed. Luckily the only person that noticed the tension between them was J. “You and Baz okay?” He asked her. “Yeah why wouldn’t we be?” She asked, playing dumb. She didn’t think that J knew that they had tension, especially sexual. “Because one minute it looked like you guys were gonna fuck and the next minute he won’t even look at you.” Fuck. She wanted to lie and say she wasn’t sure she knew what he was talking about. But who was she kidding? He hit the nail on the head. “Well honestly yeah I don’t know.” She sighs. “So you guys fucked?” She looked at him and debated on telling him. He didn’t give a shit about Katherine. “He won’t even look at me now. I feel sick.” She says with tears in her eyes. “He’s an asshole, he got what he wanted out of you.” J told her but she already knew that. She sighed and agreed with him. What more could she do? 
They had to talk about a job and unfortunately it had to be done at Baz’s house. Y/N thought about not going. She was gonna have J tell her what the plan was but decided against it. She wasn’t gonna let this affect her forever. He wasn’t worth it. They all stood at his kitchen table while Lena watched TV. Baz was getting pissed because the tv was too loud or she was annoying him. It made Pope and Y/N sick. He wasn’t a good father or husband. Baz kept telling her he’d take her to the park but wouldn’t so Pope offered. Pope honestly was a better dad than him and Pope wasn’t a dad. He cared for Lena a lot. Y/N couldn’t even be in his house anymore. She felt sick the countless times Baz yelled at poor Lena. What did she see in him? When everyone was leaving Y/N followed but Baz stopped her. “Hey you wanna stick around and have a beer?” He asked her.
She looked at him like he asked her to kill someone with him. “You want me to stay and have a beer with you after you avoiding me for days?” She asked. He sighed. “Look I know I’ve been an asshole and I’m sorry.” She laughed. A sarcastic laugh. “An asshole? Baz you’re a dick. You fuck me like you’ve always wanted to and then just ignore me. On Top of that you treat your own daughter like shit. Pope is being a better father than you-“ “don’t tell me how I should be treating my kid. You know nothing.” He yelled at her. “Yeah Baz I know nothing. I haven’t been here the past few times you’ve yelled at the poor girl over nothing. You’d rather fuck random bitches than take care of your own daughter im not stupid.” She yelled back. He walked up to her. “So you think you’re just a random bitch to me?” He asked her. “Baz I know I’m not the only one. And frankly I don’t care what you think I am. Whatever this was is done.” She said and walked out of the house. 
“Baz is stealing money from Smurf and he’s talking about moving to Mexico with Lena and some girl.” J tells her. He only told her. Her jaw dropped. Not because of him with some other girl but he stole money from Smurf. She shook her head and shrugged. “Don’t act like you don’t care.” “J I don’t. I told you he disgusts me.” She says. Though she wasn’t sure if she was lying or not. After Katherine disappeared Baz thought she’d come running in his arms but that wasn’t the case. 
“Here I want you to have this.” Baz said and gave her $5000. She looked at him confused as to why he was giving her money. “What’s this for?” She asked him. “Just take it. No questions all right?” She rolled her eyes. “I’m moving to Mexico and I want you to have it.” He told her. “Who’s the girl?” Baz looked at her. “It should be you.” She wanted to laugh or even smack him but it wasn’t worth it. None of this was. “Baz you wanted me for sex that was it. Let’s not act like we had a loving caring relationship and I left you.” “Well we should have and I’m sorry we didn’t.” She grabbed the cash off the table and looked at him.
He was crazy. It wasn’t very often that Baz and her talked after the incident but when they did he brought it up and tried to make up for it. She didn’t want his Money. She didn’t need it. But Baz wouldn’t let her leave without it. “Baz you’re fucking crazy.” She said and kissed him. He kissed back quickly but before the kiss could get heated she pulled away. She didn’t smile or show any emotion. She just walked out of his house. Not looking back.
That was the last time she saw him. When she heard that he got killed she bawled her eyes out for 5 minutes but after that she didn’t. She thought about him a lot. She saw how his death affected the others and she kept their night a dirty secret from everyone but J. In the end she was glad it wasn’t her. She was thankful that they only fucked. Cuz what kind of craziness would she bring feeling elsewise?
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toms-cherry-trees · 2 years
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A Piece Of Me || Michael Gray Flashback
Summary: Not every search ends in a gain
Word Count: 2062
Warnings: Violence, mentions of canon death, implied past child abuse and possible PTSD, you know the drill
Author’s note: I have no justification for this one. Enjoy!
Let me know if you wanna be in my taglist
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The car jolted gently every time the wheels hit a bump on the road, causing the passengers in the back seat to rock rather abruptly from side to side. Charlie kept dozing off in Michael’s lap, unable to fully fall asleep with the noise from the engine and the perpetual bumping. Or perhaps he felt uncomfortable with the vice tight grip his uncle kept around his little body, as if he feared the little child would slip again at the smallest chance.
Or perhaps it was Michael who needed someone to hold onto.
The events kept replaying over and over again in his mind. Not those of the last 2 hours, but in fact the last 17 years. Every single thing he had been through since he was ripped from his mother and placed in foster care, with the so-called “holy fathers”. Holy my ass, he thought to himself, his arms tightening a bit more around Charlie. They shielded behind their white cassocks and golden crosses, bathed in their feigned purity, when they were as rotten and dirty as the worst ones the world had to offer. Michael wasn’t sure there was a God up there, because no God would stand his envoys behaving the way these men did. 
He entered the parish house, but never left it. The boy who walked out of the orphanage, hand in hand with Mrs. Johnson was not him. Not quite. He had something missing. Something deep and meaningful he had brought with him when the parish took him, but had been lost along the way, bit by bit, every time he saw a child who was not himself leaving with a new family, and every time Father Hughes summoned him to his office for confession, every Monday before bedtime. A little something he had been searching for ever since. 
He could not recall what life had been before. He didn’t have any memories prior to his life as Henry Johnson. They had indoctrinated him until he didn’t know who he was anymore. 
And he could not recall a single moment in his life in which he didn’t feel angry. 
Even in times he truly felt joyous, like sharing with his classmates in the schoolhouse’s little yard, or kicking the ball with his little brother under the scorching summer sun; picking fruits in the orchard with his adoptive mother until the skin in his palms cracked, all of those memories were obscured by the shadow of resentment. Seemingly unjustified, focused on nothing and no one in particular. Just a never ending, seething fury against the world. 
How many hours he spent sat in the meadow, his gaze fixed in the wishing well with the white bricks. Surrounded by little colourful flowers, buzzing with life in the summer, and withstanding the elements in winter. His “mom” used to tell his little brother that fairies lived in the flowers, and the buds closed down in the winter so they could take shelter from the rain. Michael felt like snorting when she repeated that story, every single day when they passed the well on the way home. He wanted to go up and stomp on the dainty little flowers until only roots remained, and then rip the roots off the earth with his bare hands, and spread them all over the bright grass for everyone to see. And then he’d load up the pretty little well with explosives, just like his father had told him they did in the western front, and blow it up to smithereens. He’d probably get blown up too, but it would be worth it just to see it gone.
But Michael never destroyed the flowers, nor did he try to damage the wishing well. Because the only thing he wanted more in this life than ruining that pretty meadow was fitting in. He wanted to belong, fit in, just a regular teenager in a regular world. And for the sake of it, he kept it all inside. All his rage, his resentment, his eternal thirst for revenge, all carefully stored within the depths of himself; far from reach, where no one would ever be able to find it. Buried between the shadow and the soul, where it would hopefully one day wither and die, and he’d finally be able to fit in. 
But destiny had handed him an opportunity. A new family, although it didn’t exactly count as new. They were his family, the one he had been unjustly taken from; the one where he truly belonged. Where he didn’t have to change himself to fit in; he didn’t need to struggle to find a place. What had Tommy said to him? “You are Polly’s son alright” And he had just proven it, twice in one day. He may carry the Gray surname, but he was a proper Shelby now.
The gun had felt natural in his grip, an extension of his own arm, just like they told him that night in Arrow House, when John and Arthur filled him with liquor and thrusted a pistol in his hand. He felt all the boundaries built over the years melt away in a wave of whiskey and testosterone. All that pent up rage, bubbling from the bottom of his soul like a shaken up champagne bottle, ready to pop the cork and spill out. He had tethered so close to the edge that night, so fucking close, he had tasted it. They drove him to madness, and he had played along. He could have let loose and released the beast, but fate and his nosy mother had stopped him last second. But who knew, perhaps it had been better that way. He had saved his first time for something bigger. 
But that first shot had been nothing. Just a blur, and act without thought, something which entered his brain and immediately slipped away. All he could remember was a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins. He didn’t even see the face of that man; he didn’t know his name. All he saw were a pair of large hands holding Tommy’s collar, and then a hole right through the skull. He didn’t falter, didn’t stutter and didn’t miss. As if he had been meant to hold onto that gun all along. As if he had been meant to kill someone. 
The real deal came later on.
When he left the parish home, he never expected to encounter any of them again. Not any of the orphans…nor any of the fathers. When he laid eyes again on Father Hughes, an icy coldness spread down his body. His muscles tensed and his pulse picked up; he walked on the tips of his toes, ready to sprint into a run at the slightest hint of danger. Fly or fight mode, acquired over long nights where the boys took turns guarding the door at night, perking up their ears in anticipation of steps going up their stairs. They had learned to distinguish between the low heels of the sisters and the polished shoes of the fathers, and could tell the priests apart by the sound of their gait and the smell of their clothes. He could recall Hughes smelled of cheap cigarettes and dampness. 
He could still remember the crack. A crack in the wall behind Father Hughes’ desk, right in middle, almost reaching the roof. It was shaped like a spiderweb. When Michael stared long enough, he could imagine a big spider, with long legs and a big red splotch on its back, crawling out of it, its pincers clicking and its beady black eyes fixated on him. The idea of something coming out of that crack terrified him, but he still stared. Because he didn’t want to look the priest in the eye. Because he wanted the big black spider to come down and eat him whole. 
But he had no crack to stare now to distract his mind, nor any hopes that a magical creature would aid him in his cause. Just his gun, the life of his nephew on the line and an unclenched thirst for revenge. 
He could have shot, point blank, the moment he set foot through the door. He had him, right in his line of vision, no obstacles in the way. The gun uncocked, the bullet in the chamber. But he couldn’t. Because he wanted Hughes to know it had been him. He wanted to stare at him, right in the eye, in the same way he was forced to do while he “took confession”, while the bullet went through his brains. He wanted Hughes to know he had come back,  like the ghost from Christmas Past, to claim what had been taken from him.
But even there, with the upper hand, with the surprise factor, the barrel of his gun shoved right into Hughes’ eye, he couldn’t help but shiver. His own body betrayed him, his palms sweating and his heartbeat quickening. His mouth dried up like sandpaper. And for a moment, for a split, fateful moment, he was once more little Michael, aged just five years old, sitting in front of a big desk, his feet dangling from the chair, while a grave looking priest told him that he had been given up by his mother for being a bad boy, but that they would help him atone for his sins. The priest had placed a big, coarse hand in the back of his head and given him a piece of candy, whispering that he would take good care of him. 
Just for a moment, his determination faltered. Fear had overpowered his determination. And in that brief hesitation, he had lost his upper hand. Hughes had beaten him and trashed him around, and now he had him on a table, his hands tightly wrapped around Michael’s throat. He could see black spots dancing on the edge of his vision. The images in front of him blurred and he seemed to be slipping away…
And then the splash.
Michael couldn’t even recall putting a knife in his pocket. He didn’t know why, or how he got it. But he felt so thankful at the moment. Yes he had brought a knife to a gun fight and not he did not care it was honourable. He wasn’t honourable. He was a gangster through and through. And the satisfaction he felt, pushing that blade through the priest’s neck, couldn’t be compared to anything in this world. He felt again that coursing of adrenaline through his veins, stronger than any drug they could offer him. It got to his head and warmed him from the inside out. His pupils dilated and his cheeks flushed. He could breathe easier, a heavy weight finally being lifted from his shoulders. He stood on top of the world.
But like all highs, afterwards came the drop.
He had not noticed the car halting to a stop, nor the driver opening up the door for him. He moved like his body did not belong to him; like a puppet, with an unknown puppeteer. Charlie had calmed down, clinging to his uncle’s shirt with his head propped on his shoulder. 
Somehow, Michael had found during the journey the integrity of mind to wipe his face, but that only left a dried red smear across his cheek, with dark specks dotting his skin and the collar of his shirt. 
When he crossed the threshold of Shelby Company Limited, in less than a heartbeat he had two crying women on him, prying Charlie away and making the boy cry too. He stood there, a dumbfounded grin tugging at his lips as his mother finally locked eyes with him. Their shared glance made up for unneeded words. She knew. She knew he had taken a step that could never be undone, one she had hoped and prayed he would never do. Something she didn’t believe her darling son was capable of. Her fingers caressed his face, and Michael only smiled, and walked away, his grin never faltering as he moved past Polly.
He may have gotten back what the holy fathers took from him. What he spent his whole life searching for. But he had lost something else, and that one, he’d never get it back. No matter where he went, nor what he did. That piece of him was forever lost.
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WWE Masterlist
Fluff = 💕 (count: 12)
Smut = 💦 (count: 0)
Angst = 💔 (count: 2)
Main Roster - Smackdown / Raw
Baron Corbin - Safe 💕
Roman Reigns - Always Have, Always Will 💕
Seth Rollins - Too Little, Too Late 💔  
Finn Balor / Fergal Devitt - Luck in Love  💕 
NXT
Adam Cole - Never Should’ve Let You Go 💕       
 --------  Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four
Kyle O’Reilly - Cookie Dough Kisses  💕
NXT UK
Marcel Barthel - Always There   💕
Marcel Barthel, Fabian Aichner - What’s Mine 💕
Tyler Bate - Perfect Chance💕
Trent Seven - Notice Me 💕
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*not my gif*
The Sister
Pairing: Michael Grey x Y/N
Warning: very very much flirting, sassy reader,
Summary: It was your eldest sisters wedding day. As she married into the Shelby family despite that words that were spoken about the Shelby boy she was due to marry she didn't care. But for you, you never listened to your family and their arrogance. So any chance you had to piss them off, you did.
It was the day of your Eldest sister, Grace's, wedding day. Today was the day she married Thomas Shelby. As most people say, the most dangerous man in England.
Standing at the alter as Grace's maid of honor, in the beautiful church they were about to marry in. Looking over to your family seeing them look over at the Shelby side of the church in disgust. They were loud, laughing, just a mess a bit over there. Something you envied in a family sometimes. Very rarely did your family, laugh with each other. Scanning the other side, but instantly stopping at a younger man who sat beside Ada, the sister of Thomas Shelby. He played with a little boy dangling him over the railing as he laughed with Ada. He was, beautiful. You don't know what your family would do if another one of you were to have interactions with another boy from the Shelby's. But then again, you never really gave a shit what they thought. Between you and Grace, you've always been the "wild child" as your family explained. Grace normally always followed the wishes of you uncle who became a father figure to you and Grace after the death of your parents. But, that was okay. Need something a little spice in your life to keep it interesting since there wasn't much else for you to do.
You thought to yourself how crazy it was standing next to not one but two Shelby brothers so close and not really having any fear of them. If a normal person on the street as to get this close to them, they'd be shitting them selves. As music began to sound the doors opened in front of you. You stood tall and withe the bouquet in from to you and a smile on your face. As the doors opened and black priest walked through the door. You family was dumbfounded. Watching their faces as he walked down the aisle to the alter you couldn't help but laughed a little at their faces. Looking over at the Shelby side again, and instantly attaching your eyes to that man again. But, this time he wasn't distracted by the child that now sat on his lap. He was looking back at you. Full eye contact. He raised an eyebrow at you and you couldn't help but blush little and smile. As the brides song played you focused back at the door. You uncle walking with Graces hand settle on the back of his hand. She looked stunning, even though you couldn't see her face. You saw her all ready before the ceremony began. As she made her way down the aisle, could help but feel eyes on you still. Looking over just a little from the corner of your eye, he still had his eyes glued on you. As the ceremony went on, Grace, and Thomas said they words, then shortly after came their "I do's." Smiling at the smile that crossed you sisters face made you so happy. You interlocked arms with Arthur who stood as the best man to Thomas, and began to walk out of the church. Looking over at him one more time, he had different look in his eyes as he watched you walk away.
"Michael." You heard Arthur say breaking your deep thought of them man.
"What?" You asked almost at the doors of the church.
"Michael is his name love. Just to get you ahead of the game." He said once more.
"Welcome to the family love." Arthur said as you exited the building waiting for everyone else to come out. As they all came pouring out of the church you smiled as you saw Grace with the biggest smile on her face.
"Congratulations sister. So happy to see you so happy." You said pulling her into a hug.
"You have no clue how happy I am Y/N, and to have you by my side made it so much better." She said almost in tears. You smiled and engulfed her in a hug.
"Come on lets take this picture!" You heard Arthur yell, standing beside Grace on the stairs and moments after getting yourself set you felt a presence behind you.
"Okay if I stand here?" You heard a deep English accent ask. Turning to see the man you were eye fucking not even 20 minutes ago in a place of worship, with a cigarette hanging out of him mouth. You took the cigarette out of his mouth and took a drag, then putting it back in his mouth.
"Of course." You said with a smile as he slightly grinned back at you. You felt him get a little closer to you as people started piling in around you.
"Sorry Miss." He said as he was pretty much on top of you.
"Y/N." You said to him before turning your head back to where the camera sat ready for the picture. As the flash went off, after everyone dispurst from the steps. As Grace walked to the carriage with her new husband you tried to gather some warmth under your very thin shawl. Feeling a jacket lay over your shoulders confused as to what was going on saw it was Michael who noticed you were cold.
Wow, don't even know the guy. But, what a gentleman. Didn't expect that out of the Shelby family from all the words you have heard of them. You smiled and he walked passed you to link arms with an older women as you guys began to walk to the house for the reception.
"I'm Ada." You heard a women say walk up beside you.
"Hi Ada. I'm Y/n." You said with a smile and shaking her hand.
"I'm Thomas' sister, and your Grace's sister." She said to you.
"Looks like we are the sisters huh?" You said with a giggle.
"Looks like it." She also giggled back. As everyone one walked to the house together you had casual small talk with Ada and also met her son Carl. Which was the boy Michael had with him in the church. Finally getting into the house. This place was, massive. You've been to castles in your life. But this one was more of a home than somewhere where the military meets. Everyone going their separate ways and you kind of being left by yourself. Walking around the house seeing all the beautiful decorations, the beautiful paints. The one of Grace was absolutely stunning. Realizing you were still wearing Michaels jacket as his musk wafted off of it.
Should probably get this back to him.
You thought to yourself. Walking a bit more trying to see if you could find him. You saw him finally as he rounded the corner and down some stairs behind Arthur. Pushing through the crowd of people to get to where he was going before you lost site of him.
God damn this place is huge. He needs a map for this fucking place.
You thought to yourself getting to the stairs. Walking down them you heard Thomas yelling at everyone in the kitchen.
“No. Fucking. Fighting.” You saw him say in all the guys faces. As you rounded the corner everyone went silent. Thomas confused by it, before he turned around and a smile settling on your face.
“Y/N! Come on over.” Thomas said motioning you over to him.
“Everyone this is Y/N my new sister in law. Y/N everyone. Everyone Y/N.” you smiled and gave a nervous hand wave to everyone around the room.
“I was just coming down to give Michael his jacket back before it got lost.” You said speaking up breaking the silence. Looking at him as he leaned against the wall behind him with smoking pouring out of him mouth.
“Mikey boy!!!! Get it!!!!” You heard the little Shelby brother say. You laughed and walked up to Michael giving him his jacket.
“I’ll see you around.” You said with a winking and walking away.
As the night went on you made tons of new friends with the Shelby family, and the Lee family. They were all so different from what you knew on your life. They were funny, outgoing, crazy but in a kind of good way. As you danced your heart out on the dance floor with everyone a man came on over the microphone.
“If everyone can make way for the bride and groom first dance.” You smiled and stepped off to the side holding your shawl around you as you watched Grace in Thomas’ embrace. Smiled at how big he smiled. How happy he makes her. Feeling a figure step near you on your right side a little closer then the rest, your turned your head to look to see who it was. It was Michael.
“Well hello.” You said with a smirk and a giggle feeling the wine getting to your brain.
“Hello.” He said taking a drag off his cigarette as you did the same.
“You may all join.” You heard the man say after a few minutes of the Grace and Thomas dancing.
“Can I have this dance?” He asked stepping in front of you with his hand out.
“Of course Mr. Grey.” You said with a smile and laying your hand his his large soft hand. Stepping forward onto the dance floor and laying a hand on his shoulder has he softly set his other on the small of your back.
“So Mr.Grey tell me about yourself.” You said look up to him only inches from his face now.
“We’ll not much to me. I do finances for for the Shelby company. My mom is Polly, and I’m just Michael.” He said looking back down at you.
“I’ve heard other things you guys participate in. Why do you look so different from the rest? Very professional, not super rugged.” You asked motioning towards the room.
“Well love, that’s the point. I’m not supposed to look like the others. But, I got your attentions right? So I guess it’s good I look different.” She spoke softly to you. As you blushed and giggled you turned your head to look over at Grace & Thomas. Grace smiling at you mouthing “get it.” She said, know full well how much it would piss your uncle off. As you thought of that scanning the room to find him staring at you, and it wasn’t a good stare. Smiling you looked back up at Michael.
“So miss. Burgess, would you like to take this party somewhere a bit more quiet so I can get to know you.” He said staring down into your eyes.
“I would love to.” You said knowing full well your uncle was about to watch you walk away with one of the Peaky Boys. he took your hand in his and walked out of the loud room, down the hall, into a office that only had 2 dimly lit candles illuminating the room. Sitting on the big couch and tossing your purse to the side of you. Michael sitting in the chair on the other side of the table.
“So Miss. Burgess. Have you enjoyed your stay so far in England?” Michael asked lighting up a cigarette and handing it to you along side a glass of whiskey.
“I have. It’s a very beautiful place out here in the country. But also something that gets me about London. The tall buildings, the rush of working people on the street trying to get where they are going. I don’t have that where I live back in Ireland. Pretty small town. Everyone know everyone. But, also beautiful like it is here in the country. Beautiful green grass, very quiet.” You went on talking about your home town and how you grew up and just about your life to a stranger you met only hours ago.
“So Michael, I’ve been hearing about about cocaine floating around this party?” You asked after finishing one of your stories about you and your family. He raised an eye brow and sat up in his chair. Lift the front of his jacket open and pulling out a small vial that had white powder in it and setting it on the table.
“We call it snow.” He said look back at you. You got up off the couch and sat on the ground in front of it.
“Here I’ll show you.” He said leaning forward in his chair and taking the cork out of the vial.
“First you put a little down. Then you cut the snow.” He said taking out a razor blade from his jacket pocket and began to, well, cut the snow.
“Then you put it in a line.” He said as he scooted the white powder around to put it in a line.
“Then.” He said setting the tape down and pulling out a bill and rolling it up tight as if it were a straw. Handing it over to you, you took it in your hand.
“You won’t do any?” You asked.
“No I’m okay.” He said sitting back in his chair and cross his legs watching you very closely. You pushed the left side of your nose in, and put the bill up to your other nostril and inhaled the line. Giggling a bit after you did, and so did Michael. Wiping your nose and hold your hand out to give him his money back.
“Keep it.” He said taking a drag from his cigarette. You let out a breathy laugh and stood up.
“Mr. Grey. I don’t need your money, nor do I want it.” You said walking slowly around the table to where he sat. Stopping directly in front of him, stepping between his legs.
“I’m not a whore love.” You said bending over in front of him and putting the bill in his front pocket. Standing up straight, turning around and grabbing your purse off the couch.
"Thank you for the snow Mr. Grey." You said turning towards him as he now he stood up in front of his chair. In one swift move he had you pushed up against the door that you were about to leave out of.
"Miss. Burgess, the one thing I didn't tell you about me is I do not like being teased. I don't like having things I want dangled in front of me, and guess what?" He said grabbing your face in his hands.
"I want you." He whispered and smashed his lips into yours. Taking he's soft bottom lip between your teeth causing a low growl to come out of him. He lifted you off your feet and you wrapped your legs around him. As he carried you over to the couch and laying you down on it, now between your legs kissing up and down your neck. A few moments later you heard a knock at the door.
"FUCK OFF!" Michael yelled.
"Who the fuck are you telling to fuck off?" You heard as the door opened. Shooting up to look over the couch to see who it was. It was Arthur
"Oh shit." Arthur said threw laughing.
"What Arthur?" Michael asked standing up as he buttoned the top button of his shirt that at some point came undone.
"Dinner is ready and Grace is looking for her sister." He Sid still not able to contain his laughter.
"Thank you John." He said helping you up off the couch. Embarrassed as all you walked to the door and passed Arthur.
"Miss." He said bowing his head at you with laughter still under his breathe.
"Mikey boy!" You heard faintly behind you. Smiling to yourself as you walked down the hall. You saw a tall women, with short black hair, in a blue sparkly dress practically running passed you.
"FUCK PARISH BASTARD!" She screamed walking towards Arthur and Michael. It wasn't any of your business so you just kept walking. Rounding the corner to head to the dining room and sitting beside your uncle.
"Where were you?" He asked after a few moments of silence from your side of the table as Ada talked about politics to one of your family members across the table.
"I was looking around the house. It's quite a beautiful place." You spoke to him, but looked passed him as you saw Arthur, Michael, and the tall slender women walk into the room. Michael had a cigarette dangling between the lips you were moments ago were attached to. Giving you a wink as he sat across from you at the table.
"Don't worry love, we will be back home in due time." You uncle spoke.
It hitting you that you were going to be leaving this place in just a day. You didn't want to. Yes, you've only been here a few days, but you fell in love with England. It was beautiful. Then there was Michael. You didn't know if it would turn into more than a fuck, but you wanted to stay and find out.
"To the bride." Thomas said breaking you from your thoughts. You stood as everyone else did with a whiskey in your hand and holding it out towards Grace as she smiled at everyone around the room.
"The bride." Everyone spoke and took a sip of their drinks, and sitting back down.
"Now, according to traditions. My best man to say a few words." Thomas spoke with a bit of nervousness in his voice and sat back down.
"Go on! Here he goes! Go on, Arthur!" John yelled over to him and pulling your attention towards him and only a spot over Michael sat, who very intently looked at you. As if you were a project he couldn't seem to figure out.
"I'm not one for speeches." Arthur said standing.
"Sing then!" John yelled at causing you to giggle a bit.
"I will later John" He spoke to his brother.
"But I do have some words written down here." Stuttering over a few of his words. It as weird seeing a Shelby man so nervous.
"On this piece of paper." He said grabbing the paper out of his jacket pocket that laid on the back of the chair.
"This doesn't include everything that I want to say." He said look up from the paper around the room.
"But, first a few words from the heart." He said stuttering over a few of his word.
"The is man here, my brother Tommy. Helped me survive through some of the worst times." Arthur some with emotion. Thomas clearing his throat as it was a way of telling Arthur to shut up and just read what's on the paper.
"Its a wedding, Arthur, tell a joke." Michael spoke up looking over at him. Looking at Michael who had a look of nervousness on his face. You had no clue what the hell was going on. But they all acted very weird. Michael looking back over at you and giving you a soft smile. As Arthur went on with what he wanted to say anyways and Thomas stopping him before he could say anything else, other then what was written in that piece of paper he didn't read from.
"To peace, to love, to marriage." Thomas said standing up as everyone else did with their drinks in the air. Looking over at Michael who had a worry in his eye that was settling. He took a drag off of his cigarette. Watching his lips as he did so and trying not to think back at how soft they were on yours. You didn't want to leave. You wanted to see what this man had to offer, and you believed he wanted to show you too.
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rosesandcloves · 2 years
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HENRY
A Peaky Blinders Fanfic
Hi guys! I have recently started watching Peaky Blinders again and while I was watching I came up with a headcanon that I thought I could make into a fic with an OC. It's ofc about the dreamy Michael Gray. There will be fluff angst and smut in this fic.
This is part 1 of an ongoing series.
I am also posting this on my Wattpad so if you prefer to read on there my @ is in my bio.
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We were both live wires, but only we knew. "Good kids." They would call us. We hated every minute of it. I was just a child when I met him. Nine. What an age! Aware of all the horrible horrors but you still don't know how to swear about it.
I hated the girls school in the village. They taught us how to be obedient and good homemakers. They taught us typing for those of us who were too unlucky to get a husband to care for us. They taught us how to repair and treat. How to do everything that the men couldn't be bothered to do.
At lunch times they would let us play, like girls again. We would forget about womanhood when we had grass stains on our skin, catching frogs in our knee high socks. The other girls didn't like the mud like me. They called me a wild one and laughed at my tangled hair. Blood on my face from the brambles in the ditch.
It was a Monday when I heard his voice first. I was looking for slow worms near the hedge that joined the boys school. The hedge shook, someone shifting on the other side. I pushed the hair from my face and peared through a gap. There was a boy crouched down looking for something. He found me however. His bright eyes peered through the gap. "Hello." He didn't sound like country folk. He sounded like the boys from the big city. One time my dad took me to Birmingham for a treat. He showed me the bull ring and took me too a fair. The whole time grumbling about the Gypsies. "Ya can't just live like that Esther, they think you can but it will catch up with them. Moving from place to place like rats."
I was too shy to say anything back. I just stared.
"What are you looking for?" He asked.
"Flowers," I lied "for me' Ma."
"That's nice." "Have you seen a ball over there?" He moved closer to the hedge and peered through to my side. "You aren't looking for flowers are ya?" He looked back at me. "Do you like looking for animals?" He asked innocently.
"Yeah, I found a frog last week, not found a toad yet though. I get a good look at them and then go home and draw them. I still need to find a toad though." I realised this whole time I was looking down into the ditch. I looked back at the boy.
"What's your name?" He asked.
"Esther."
"My name's Henry, pleased to meet you Esther." He reached his hand through the hedge to shake mine. "Meet me at the wishing well at four after school and before dinner." He found his ball and walked away.
That evening he turned up with a picnic basket, a cloth covering the contense. He opened the basket and showed me a toad sat in the bottom still as can be, he set it down on the edge of the wishing well, picked up the toad and handed it to me. "Now you can draw a toad." He said. We saw eachother often after that. We would meet at school by the hedge and play games. Once a week when my dad was working late on the farm I would meet him by the wishing well and we would go hunting. We would catch everything from mice to snails. It was the happiest time of my life.
We grew closer over the next few years. When we got older we talked about how we wanted to get out of the village, into the city and do something that mattered. On my 16th birthday I met him by the wishing well. He told me we would fight together us against the world, and then he kissed me.
You believe that sort of stuff when you are 16, that you and one other person is enough.
I had never been kissed before. I didn't ever like anyone other than Henry.
When he was 17 a man came to the house. The next day Henry left without saying goodbye. His mother said he left for a new life in the city and would never come back, she said she did her bit but she wasn't his mother anymore. I remember thinking "how could he do this to me? He said it would be just us against everyone and everything."
I cried myself to sleep for 3 weeks after he left. I realised later that I was in love with Henry, and despite our ways it was an innocent love.
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val-made-a-mistake · 2 years
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❝the garrison rat❞ CHP 9
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CHAPTER NINE
previous / next
summary: torn apart by an unexpected loss, you find yourself unable to leave birmingham. you’re aware that people notice you drinking in the garrison every other night, you’re aware they call you nicknames, but you don’t care about any of it— at least, not until you start speaking to john shelby. he’s looking for a wife and you vowed to never love again, which makes things a bit complicated.
warnings: alcohol, cigarettes, mentions of cocaine, a knife being used to cut open human flesh (but it’s not self-harm or anything, it’s apart of a ritual), and lots of fluff! i know john is young but he’s a dad and it’s beautiful.
word count: 2.3k
tag list: @datewithgianni @1950schick @clementinesjourney @cbouvier23 @smailaway @cedricscoffin @buckysjuicyplums @belledawnidk @wandering-poetess
a/n: forever is the sweetest con.
//////
“John doesn’t have shoes.”
You looked up at Esme in the doorway and laid down your face powder. “You’re joking.”
“I’m not, and Arthur’s are too big,” she replied as she stomped into the room, looking harried. “You know, if Tommy hadn’t banned snow for today, I’d be high off my mind right now and everything would be fine.”
“Don’t get high,” you said distractedly, now patting around for wherever you’d put your makeup bag as your heart started racing. “Is - is Polly here?”
“I dunno, she was at the market a second ago…”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you hissed to yourself, bounding up. “Be right back.”
“Where’s your dress?” you heard Esme say, but you didn’t care, you’d already started running.
It was your wedding day, and at nine o’clock in the morning, the chaos was already starting.
//////
“Polly’s at Zhang’s,” Tommy told you as soon as you’d rushed into the kitchen. “He should be able to help us.”
“I’m getting my fuckin’ shoes from a fuckin’ whorehouse on my wedding day,” John complained fretfully to no one in particular, and you snorted at him. “It could be worse, you could be wearing shoes from a whorehouse to your fuckin’ funeral.”
“It’s gonna be John’s funeral in about three seconds if you lot don’t clear out!” Ada yelled from the hallway, and Karl the baby started crying.
“Esme, Y/N, you can stay,” she added after a minute. “I need peace and quiet, God knows that’s not something the Peaky Blinders understand.”
Tommy looked to be resisting a smirk as he took a drag from his cigarette. “Ah, well…”
He exhaled a plume of smoke and clapped John on the shoulder. “John boy, we better be headin’ out.”
There was a pause as John got up from the counter and Tommy pressed his cigarette into the ash tray, and they hastened out of Ada’s apartment.
“Thank the Lord,” Ada snapped, her voice seeping with disdain— she evidently wasn’t grateful at all. “You let me know if Polly’s coming ‘round, alright?”
At that moment, Esme slid into the kitchen. “Are we supposed to be headin’ to the Parlour before or after the wedding?”
Bundled up in Ada’s arms, Karl screamed for no reason, and you cringed.
“I don’t know,” you replied hurriedly, brushing past her. “We’ll figure it out when we get there.”
“Do you lot plan anything besides murder?” Esme exclaimed angrily.
“Your guess is as good as mine!” you called from the other room, and Ada rolled her eyes.
//////
“Are you panicking, John boy?” Arthur called out teasingly from the bathroom, and John resisted the urge to gulp. “No.”
His voice was calm, surprisingly, even though he was tossing around his cap in his hands, trying to ignore the fact he was due to walk out into the street any minute now. A wedding ceremony simply couldn’t happen without the groom, that was for sure, but his thoughts were suffocating him.
He couldn’t help it, he could still remember what his and Martha’s wedding had been like. Upon first meeting her, all of the Shelbys had approved of her almost immediately, with her soft and sweet energy that was such a startling change from the usual fiery Shelby temper, it endeared her to everyone around her. She’d spent the entire week beforehand handpicking the wildflowers she held in the ceremony, and everyone agreed in the aftermath that the pregnancy glow had made her look absolutely radiant in her wedding dress, and John looked so happy to be marrying her, it was simply meant to be. Even though many would have raised their eyebrows at the marriage of two eighteen-year-olds, Polly used to say that just by looking at them you could tell it was going to be a marriage that would last for many years. Decades. The rest of their lives, hopefully.
Jesus, Polly was right, God really does take the best ones first.
He could barely fathom that he was doing it all again, that’s all. At twenty-four nonetheless, with Martha dead from sepsis. And you were three years older than him— that was hardly seen in Small Heath, let alone the world, what were all the regulars at the Garrison thinking?
“It’s eleven thirty, John boy, we should start headin’ out,” Arthur called from the bathroom, and John nodded, forcing himself to clear his head.
He smoothed his hair back and put his cap on, ignoring the rush of confidence he felt while wearing it.
“You go out first, mate. Meet the rest of ‘em, I‘ll be right behind you.”
//////
There was a surprising amount of people lined up in rows, watching quietly, and both you and Johnny Dogs were waiting for him when John and the rest of the Shelbys arrived.
John couldn’t see you from the front yet, but his breath hitched in his throat. Your veil was long, tumbling down your back in a silver waterfall, and someone had tied your hair into a tight bun at the back of your head and adorned it with flowers. He was so used to seeing your hair down, he almost didn’t know what to make of it, and he hadn’t even seen your face yet.
“Go on now,” he heard Tommy whispering, and hoping his heart wouldn’t fall out of his chest, John walked up and knelt in his place before Johnny Dogs, willing himself not to look at you. You were beside him, and your face was obscured by the veil.
As the speech started, John realized it was all bullshit that didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, and he wasn’t even listening to most of it anyway as you hastily lifted your veil and tossed it behind your head.
It was like he couldn’t understand why Martha had ever been worth thinking about. You were a positively luminous thing in this smoky grey, manure-filled, charcoal-covered place— something so beautiful, he couldn’t help but look back into the crowd and smirk at the first Shelby brother he saw.
But the ceremony didn’t pause.
“Do you, John Michael Shelby, take Y/N Lee to be your beautiful young wife?”
John looked back at Johnny Dogs and nodded hurriedly. “I do, yeah.”
You bit your lip and tried to smile at him, but it came out more of a grimace. You were just hoping he wouldn’t notice your hands shaking.
Johnny Dogs was addressing you, now. “And do you, Y/N Lee, take John Michael Shelby to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
You twisted your hands together and inclined your head slightly. “I do.”
“With that, there remains one more part of the ceremony,” Johnny Dogs announced to the crowd. “The mingling of the two bloods, so the two families become the one family.”
As he spoke, he brandished a small knife and cut open the palm of John’s hand: John didn’t flinch at all as the first few droplets of bright red blood emerged from his palm, but you bit your lip even harder and swallowed a curse as the knife cut deep into your flesh. It stung, especially because the purpose was to leave a scar.
The pain faded somewhat when John reached forward to enclose your hand in his, and as he caught your eye again, he squeezed it reassuringly, like it was just some happy drunken night at the Garrison.
It was crazy, but for the first time that morning, you smiled honestly and squeezed back, loving how this was like your own secret language. Maybe you were both more alike than you thought: you’d both been married once before, and it was funny how your spouses had died and it had been so unfair and horrible and your heart still ripped in two at the thought of it, but you were kneeling here today and John was squeezing your bleeding hand and looking into your eyes with that tiny smirk on his face and suddenly, you understood that he was just as scared as you were, but he’d gone through the same grief as you and come out of it, so if he said it was alright, it was going to be alright.
“I now pronounce you man and wife!” Johnny Dogs boomed, and as cheering and clapping erupted from the crowd, John leaned forward swiftly to press his lips to your own, and you pushed back on them earnestly. You knew how chapped his lips were, you’d kissed him a dozen times by now, but today they were sweet. Like he’d been drinking cherry wine before this.
And in that moment nothing mattered, because you were married to John and you were officially a Shelby.
“I’m married!” you gasped as you broke away from him, almost not knowing what to make of it. 
“We’re married,” he corrected, holding his bleeding hand out for you and not even trying to hide the grin that was slipping onto his face now. “C’mon.”
And so you took his hand and hurried away from the spot you’d been married in search of the Shelby Parlour.
//////
“Now, what is this?” Esme gasped much too loudly as she opened one of the numerous plastic trays in front of her: she was several stages past tipsy, and it wasn’t even dusk yet. “You’ve made charcuterie, haven’t you?”
“Ar, we wanted to be real fancy, Esme,” Arthur replied, swinging an empty beer bottle around. “Matter of fact, how long until the reception, eh?”
“I dunno, but Tommy’s getting the fireworks!” Finn chimed in happily from beside Arthur. “He told me they’re gonna be all different colours.”
“There’ll be fireworks?” little Katie exclaimed, whipping around to face you with her eyes wide as saucers. That was John’s girl to a tee, you’d quickly learned: completely uninterested until someone mentioned something she enjoyed.
You laughed, bending down to smooth Katie’s frizzy hair out of her face. “Tommy’ll get the real pretty ones just for you, I promise.”
“Remember the ones we saw last year for Christmas, Daddy?” Katie said urgently, pivoting fast and rounding on John now, “They were so beautiful…all red and green and gold across the field…”
John smirked at the memory, giving her a hasty, one-armed hug. “You can definitely say that, yeah.”
As your train of thought slowly disappeared into boredom, you couldn’t help but notice again that there was a strange type of stability in the air ever since you married John, and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt it, but it had your heart pounding hard in your chest— aching — and you couldn’t understand why. It was a lonely type of ache, too, like if you told John or Esme about it, they likely wouldn’t understand.
It was a “just pray for it to pass” type of ache.
Deep down, you knew you shouldn’t ignore it, but at the same time, you also knew you would have to. Complicated, catastrophic and intense mood swings had been frequent for you ever since you’d been born; you always found a way to ride it out somehow.
(Still, there was an itch for something, and it bothered you not knowing what it was.)
//////
The reception was bustling and bright and beautiful and you and John had somehow managed to end up at opposite sides of the field: there were rivulets of people leaping over haybales to dance by the roaring bonfire, and there were loud voices swearing and engaging in conversations about the usual topics in Small Heath— horses, Inspector Campbell’s reign, questionable Chinese magic at the market, whatever whore happened to be stirring up drama at Zhang’s, the thrilling conquests of the Peaky Blinders…
It hadn’t hit you yet that you were strangely abandoned at your own wedding reception, standing off to the side with Esme.
“It’s way too loud out here,” Esme shouted over the noise as she bent her head to take a sip of rum. “And people are gonna do something stupid soon, I bet. Mob mentality.”
“That’s what the night’s for, love,” you yelled back resignedly, trying to squint over the crowd to find John: he had promised to thank people for coming on your behalf, as everyone knew you in Small Heath because you were the Garrison rat, but you’d barely made friends with anyone since you’d arrived in December. “You see John, by any chance?”
“Nope,” Esme responded, taking out what looked like a pack of cigarettes from her bra. “You want a cig?”
You hesitated for a millionth of a second, but nodded.
“I’m not supposed to be smoking,” you admitted as Esme lit the cigarette for you in an enormous puff of grey smoke. “I said to John I’d try to quit all my reckless antics for his kids.”
“That’s dumb,” she replied immediately, passing the cigarette off to you. “You’ve got needs too, you know. I don’t get why wives just let their husbands control them.”
Yeah, and that’s probably why you give the Lees so much grief, your thoughts shot back sarcastically as you took a deep drag from the cigarette, but you didn’t say anything.
Esme didn’t notice anything, of course: instead she looked at you with a mischievous look in her eyes.
“Would you kill me if I showed you what I had on me right now?”
“Tommy told you not to get high,” you replied immediately.
“Relax, I’ve got something better than cocaine,” she shot back. “Do you think we can sneak off for a bit?”
You stalled, glancing around the huge party that was currently being held in your honour. “I-”
BANG! POW! BANG!
You nearly jumped out of your skeleton and automatically whipped around to see whatever had caused the noise.
To your surprise, Freddie Thorne was storming onto the scene, looking mutinous and holding a Roman candle high over his head.
(Out of instinct, you glanced over at the crowd: Ada Thorne looked just as shocked as everyone.)
“Everyone!” Freddie bellowed at the top of his lungs, pivoting on his heel to address everyone at the party. “Inspector Campbell’s been killed!”
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xxblackballoonxx · 2 years
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Electric: Chapter 19
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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.
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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
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berlinnelity · 2 years
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#the moment you and your boyfriend enter your divorce era
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peakyblinders1919 · 2 years
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First Place in my Heart
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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.
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