grabbing his shoes


Summary(requested): You’re friends with benefits and get pregnant, leave, and see Michael two years later.

Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of sex.

Ch: Michaelxreader

Michael never seemed as if he wanted to make what you had a public thing, he’d always stay a distance from you in public, and if he did talk it was small chatter nothing more, but when you were alone it was a different story. He’d often bring you gifts, call you cute nicknames, kiss you, and hold you, He was like two different men.

“Do you think ya ever have children?” You ask, as you watch him dress, he quickly grabs his shoes from the floor that was cluttered with clothes, he took a seat next to you, smiling. “You think you’re pregnant right after we fucked?”

“No.” You swallow the lump in your throat, putting on a smile. “Don’t be silly, Mikey, I just carious.”

“I mean maybe, but not at the moment, I have no time to take care of me self.” You fake smile and nod, as slipped on his dress shoes. “I agree with you.” 

He presses a kiss against your nose, and then your forehead, “I have to go love, fucking Tommy will kill me if I’m late again.”

“Bye.” You kiss his lips softly. “I’ll pick you up tonight, we’ll go for dinner, have a good day.” With one more kiss to the top of hair, he was gone, door slammed behind him. Little did he know you were pregnant, and leaving for London tonight.

You spend the rest of the day debating on if you should, but none would be fair to Michael, who has just finally found his family, he said it himself he was not ready to be a father, but you were not ready to leave him. you found your feelings growing stronger and stronger for the young Peaky Blinder.

Currently you stood shaking at the train station, the ticket wrinkling due to the grip of regret. You had to do this though, for Michael and for your baby. The moment the train whistle ripped the air, tears started flowing It was time to leave, leave him behind.

                                                   2 years later

You looked down at the beautiful little boy sleeping on your chest, He was the spitting image of his father, gorgeous brown locks, and beautiful red lips. With a quick jerk, the train stopped.

After two years you finally worked up the nerve to come back, come back to see your mother and let her see her grandchild for the first time ever. “Mummy?” Your son groaned, rubbing his eyes, looking up at you.

“Time to go meet your granny, baby.” He smiled from cheek to cheek, so excited to finally meet her, especially since you talked about how an amazing person she is, and the wonderful pastries she makes.

The moment Wallace met your mother it was instant love, and couldn’t tear him from his granny, she offered many time for you two to stay with her, to live her, she could get you a job at the Garrison now that her new husband Harry was the owner. 

“Honey Wallace will love it here.” She sways, “You grew up here, you belong here with your family.” She was right, you missed your family, In London it was just you and Wallace, no friends or family. When you agree, she assisted on celebrating, sending you and Wallace out to get goodies for her to make. 

The walk through the town was just what you needed, the memories came flooding back, the dreams and hopes that were thought of right in this very town. Finally you reached the market, holding Wallace’s hand to have him pull away, “Mummy you don’t need to hold my hand!” 

“I forgot my baby’s all grown.” You smile, poking his cheek. You examined the apples, looking for your mum’s favorite, the green ones, after looking for the non-bruised, and sweetest, you turn to show Wallace, but he wasn’t there.

“Wallace?” You ask, eyes searching everywhere. “Wallace?” You cry, now speed walking through the market, he was no where to be found. Tears began to fall due to the fear of your son missing, unsafe. 

“Excuse me Miss?” A man ask, you turn around only noticing your son in his arms. You quickly take him, hugging him, “Oh you scared me so much boy, You know to stay next to me!”

“(Y/N)?” The moment your eyes met with Michael’s, you began to panic inside. His eyes studied you, then the boy who similarly represented him. “W-Where have you been?” He tried to hide the breaking of his heart.

You left him heart broken two years ago, as he still found himself the same, not interested in anyone else really, a few one night stands but since you left, he’s not cared for anyone, but you.

“Michael.” You say softly, “Thank you for finding him.” Placing Wallace on the ground, cupping his hand. 

Michael quickly cut in, not allowing you to leave this conversation. “Can you take you two out for dinner? I have so many questions.”

“It’s not the best time -” Wallace cut you off, “I’m hungry mum!” You sigh looking up at Michael, as he stood, his thoughts being confirmed, he was your son.

Michael took you both to a nice place, that was kid friendly. After eating your meal, with lots of small talk, and awkward silence  you where hoping you could leave. “Mummy, can I go play with the other kids?”

You sigh, nodding, and turning back to face Michael. “How old is he?” 

“Two years of age.” You mumble, Michael couldn’t help but connect the dots. “Is that why you asked how I felt about children?” His voiced dripped anger. He quickly took a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it up, something new about him; smoking.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You argue standing your ground., “I met a man in London.” Michael laughed to himself, taking a drag, blowing the smoke around the room. “You don’t think I can’t notice my own son? He looks just like me fucking twin.”

“I don’t know who you think you are.” As you noticed Wallace listening to you both, “You definitely didn’t raise him, he may be your son, but you did not raise him!“ You paused, “And who even said you could curse or smoke in front of my son!”

“Clear the fucking room!” Michael roared as people quickly shuffled out of the room, leaving empty tables all over the room, and Wallace now left alone. 

“I am leaving.” You stood to only get stopped by Michael, his hand catching yours. “I’m sorry, I just want to talk.” He puts the cig out smoke now slowly disappearing, “I will not curse I promise.”

You sit back down, looking at Wallace playing with blocks. “Is this why you left?” You nod, “You said you weren’t ready. I wasn’t going to stick the responsibility on you.”

“He is my son.” Michael argues, “It isn’t a responsibility, it’s my job as a man.” You nod, tears growing in yours eyes. “You wouldn’t even show me to the public I thought the same for our son.”

“I loved you! I would’ve told anyone if they asked but they never did. They mind their business.” Tears now fell down your cheeks, “I didn’t know, I thought you didn’t want anything more.”

Michael groaned in anger, “Enough arguing, I have just met my son and would like to spend time with him.” He took off his hat, placing it on the table, his hands running through his hair. “We will talk about this later, but I am glad to see that beautiful face again.

You smile at him softly, wiping the tears from your face. “Wallace come here.” Wallace was quick to jump on your lap. Wallace often wondered why he didn’t have a father like everyone else, sometimes make one up to be like the other kids. He smiled cheek to cheek the moment you told him the respectful, whole man in front of him was his own.

You couldn’t help but notice the tears in Michael’s eyes as Wallace ran to his side of his table, jumping on his lap and hugging him. Between you and Wallace he didn’t know what to cry over.

Request are open!

brightki  asked:

Fluffy Tropes! Zimbits; 15) Blanket forts and/or 27) Wearing the other’s sweater

It’s almost 2:30 in the morning when the hotel’s fire alarm goes off. Jack jerks awake mid-REM cycle and stumbles out of bed. He lists awkwardly to the side as he shoves his feet into his shoes, grabbing a shirt from his open suitcase as he heads for the door.

His teammates are already out in the hall in various states of undress (’please, someone, for the love of god, get Tater a towel to cover up with’). Jack, in his disoriented state, fumbles with the shirt he grabbed, trying to thread his arms through the sleeves.

It takes him about thirty seconds of clumsily wrestling with the shirt before he realizes that everyone else has gone quiet.

And they’re staring.

Jack looks at everyone, confused, and then looks at Tater imploringly.

Tater laughs loudly. “Zimbonni! Your shirt!”

Jack looks down at where the shirt–a cardigan, he sees now–is stuck, stretched hopelessly around his left bicep.

“Oh.” Jack feels his face heat. “There must have been a… mix-up with my laundry.”

Tater looks at him with a wide smile and a knowing glint in his eyes. “Yes. Much too small for you. That is meant for itty bitty man.”

“Haha, yeah, I guess so,” Jack says, flushing even brighter. He pulls the sweater off his arm and folds it up as casually as possible.

Luckily, Poots yells at Tater to find some damn underwear, and the sweater is quickly forgotten.

After the alarm has been cleared, Jack goes back into his room. He grabs his phone and sends out a text.

You left something in my hamper last weekend.

Jack shakes his head when he gets a reply almost immediately.


It’s 3 in the morning. Shouldn’t you be asleep?’ He sends back.

He waits for a minute with no reply back before grabbing the sweater and his phone and heading into the bathroom. Now that he’s slightly more awake, he manages to get it nearly up to his shoulders before the seams threaten to rip open and he manages to button just one button across his waist. It’s certainly an interesting sight.

He snaps a photo of his torso, bare under the straining fabric, the top part of his head cut off, and sends it to Bitty. His phone buzzes right away.

“👀 👀 🔥”

Jack starts to write back when his phone buzzes again, a picture of Bitty smiling taking over the screen. He answers it.

“A bit late, isn’t it?” He asks.

“Jack Zimmermann if you think I’m going to be able to get to sleep after that photo–”

Jack chuckles.

Bitty sighs. “Have you put on more weight?” He asks.

“Uh–yeah. About twenty pounds since the end of summer?”

“Lord,” Bitty says in a low whisper. Jack’s breath catches in his throat.

“Are you really not going to be able to sleep?” Jack asks. Bitty starts to reply but Jack interrupts him. “Because I think I can find a way to tire you out a little,” he says.

“Oh. You think so, huh?”

“Yeah, I do.” Jack says.

“Alright then, Mr. Zimmermann. Show me what you’ve got.”

Jack shows him exactly what he’s got.


Tags were cruelly cut off, but basically this concludes with BETRAYAL in that bribery does not work on J. Toews in any form, so Patrick winds up having to fake an injury. A puppy bounds over to his feebly fake moaning Patrick, only to find he has been *TRICKED*, he has been *BETRAYED*. 

There’s a lot of apologetic cuddling that evening, obviously. And maybe Patrick lets Johnny watch the cat channel on youtube, ‘cause he likes to growl at them. 


jackson woke up with a throbbing headache. he was so out of it that he didn’t recognize where he was. all dorms looked alike but this wasn’t his. the last thing he wanted was to hook up with someone else. jack groaned, looking around him. he saw benjamin not too far away, that’s when he realized, he was in benjamin’s dorm. jack also remembered what happened the other night, not entirely, but the gist of it. he took off a jacket from his shoulders, grabbed his shoes and tiptoed out of the room. jackson wasn’t in the mood to confront benjamin, yet. he went to his own room, showered and immediately took off to buy a curative cup of coffee.

The Designer | Etty & Eoin

Eoin was sorting through some mail he found sitting at his desk in the den. He skimmed through opened envelopes when he came upon one that didn’t seem familiar. He pulled it out and it was a receipt for the work that was done on his apartment before he moved into it - which was over a year old. Etty Rivers. The bill was paid online, but when he read over the woman’s bill, he realised that her office wasn’t far from here. He was thinking of adding another bookcase in his room, but wanted to make sure everything coincided. He tucked the letter into his back pocket and went to fetch his leather jacket and shoes, grabbing his wallet and keys off the kitchen counter top. 

The Irishman strolled through the streets of Denver, pulling out the letter one last time to make sure the addresses matched up before he stepped inside. He looked around the room, coming to the front desk. ‘I would like to see Ms. Rivers.” 


~Open Starter~

Stood in the kitchen, Micah was busy making himself a tea, his hand idly stirring the milk in when his phone suddenly rang in his pocket. He sighed softly, reaching inside and pulling it out to see a number he didn’t recognise. 

“Hello…?” Micah frowned at the voice on the other side of the phone. “Kai? Wait….Slow down will ya?” He growled, stilling holding the teaspoon in his hand. “Why are you suddenly ringing me out of the blue?” He grumbled, turning to lean his back against the kitchen counter. 

However as he listened to the voice on the phone, his eyes widened and he dropped the teaspoon onto the tiled floor with a loud clatter. 

“Oh…Oh God, when? When did he?…….Alright, I’ll be there soon.”

Micah quickly hung up his phone and started to hurry around the apartment, trying to grab his shoes and a coat. 

“I have to go” He explained to the other.

Steve Rogers- On Your Left

Sam and T'challa had been out on the track field at the Avengers HQ when Steve ran by, shouting his usual “on your left” while Sam had bent down to grab his shoe, only to be stopped by T'challa.

“Man, I hate when he does that,” Sam turns to T'challa with a grin. “Bruh, I will pay you to repeatedly dust Steve while saying “on your left” each time.“

T'challa straightens his shirt. "Excuse me? I am the King of Wakanda and the richest man on Earth. I do not need your money.”

The other sighs. “Yeah, alright.”

“I’ll smoke that white boy for free.”

Sam lets out a whoop as T'challa stretches, rolling his neck and ankles and watches as Steve runs closer.

“As I have heard many times in the country,” T'challa waits for Steve to pass by to look at Sam. “YOLO!”

“He kept saying it.”

“Uh huh.”

“Every time.”

“I know.”

“But-But how..”

“He’s Black Panther, dude.”

“I know, but..”

“You look pale, Steve.”

“He passed me ten times, Sam.”

“I counted.”

“He said "on your left” ten times, Sam.“

"I heard.”

“That’s my thing, Sam.”

“Not anymore, Cap.”

“First he tries to steal my Bucky and now this?”

“..Steve don’t cry.”

anonymous asked:

what were your favorite parts with the twins?

hmmm, that’s tough!! but here were some of my favs!

  • whenever pietro ran for a longer bit of time, he got exhausted. he’d pant, and groan a little. i found it super cute.
  • when wanda got the arrow showed onto her head, and was being electrocuted, pietro rushed in to scoop her up. and when she was in pain, he was just holding her hands and her body and panicking, just whispering ‘what can i do? is there anything i can do?’ to her.
  • pietro scooping her up in aNY SITUATION.
  • in the scene where they’re creating vision, wanda screams in agony when she sees the destruction, and pietro’s kissing her forehead, holding her close, grabbing onto her hands, stroking her hair. their bond is so strong, especially in the physical aspects of it all.
  • pietro shirtless/changing his shirt and grabbing his shoes, and him just chucking wanda’s jacket at her playfully like a dweeb
  • when pietro refuses to leave wanda alone, and she takes out a robot, he kind of shrugs like ‘ok you can do this bUT’ and then his little whine of 'you know, i’m TWELVE MINUTES older’ ( which were also his last words to wanda bY E )
  • wanda’s reaction to pietro’s d eath oH NO
  • wanda ripping out ultron’s 'heart’ because she was 'dead inside’ and wanted him to see how it felt when pietro left her

/Imagine for jacobsbrazilian/

You groaned as the pain moved through your whole body. That’s how cramps felt like. It was in just one section but it felt everywhere.

It was around 1 am but that didn’t stop your body from hurting. You had been un for about 30 minutes and sleeping was not part of your plan with this pain.

You had tried taking a pill, putting your feet up high, but nothing was working. It was just so unbearable, you were brought to tears with the pain.

You tried to be silent with the groans since you didn’t want to wake Jack up but it seemed pointless since he was now moving to face you.

“Okay, that’s enough” He turned the lamp on “I can’t just watch you going through this pain, baby girl”

Johnson got up from the bed, grabbed his shoes to avoid the cold floor, and walked out of the room.

‘He is going to sleep in the couch’ you thought since he wasn’t coming back. You tried to hold back the tears of the pain and the sadness of making Johnson leave but the you heard the steps coming from the hallway.

“Come here, baby” Jack kneeled next to your side of the bed “Put your shirt up and your waistband lower”

You did as he guided you, not knowing what he was up to. He grabbed a little towel he was caring in a bucket. He gently held it against your swelled area, making you sight and the hot feeling of the towel.

Johnson climbed you so he could reach his side of the bed. He kept his hand on your lower belly as he laid on the bed.

“I’m so sorry for waking you up” You apologized between sobs.

“Hey, don’t be, Duda” Jack kissed your head “That’s why I’m here! To protect and to help you, and love you”

“I love you” You turned your face to kiss his lips softly.

“I love you more” Jack smiled against your lips “Now get some sleep”

You rested your head in Jack’s shoulder as he drew circles on your back with his free hand.

You were starting to feel better, as your eyelids became heavy above your eyes.

“Sleep tight” Jack whispered kissing your forehead.