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maysileeewrites · 6 months

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a helping hand - John Murphy x reader

Summary: „Why are you helping me? I’m the bad guy, in case you forgot.“ Set during 1 x 10 (I am become Death), based on this teaser.

warnings: mentions of blood + injuries, angst, Murphy being Murphy (yes, he does have a soft side in this, but that doesn’t mean that he’s not still a dick); please lmk if I forgot something!

AN: I’m not quite sure whether anyone will still care for Murphy x reader in 2023, but I love my trash son so much, I just had to write something about him. Please let me know if you liked it!

You dip the bloodied cloth into the bucket filled with water, watching as the water slowly turns red. Your hands are bloody as well and there’s dried blood crested under your fingernails, but with all the sick teens around you needing medical attendance, you don’t have time to try to thoroughly wash your hands, so you just dip them into the water, grabbing a bar of soap, watching as the water turns an even deeper red.

Blood.

There’s just so much of it.

You sigh, standing up again. There’s no time for dwelling on your thoughts, not when the whole first floor of the Dropship is full of sick, coughing teenagers that need your help.

You go to Fox and Connor next, checking up on them. But apart from trying to clean them up - they’ve started coughing up blood as well - and getting them to drink some water, there isn’t much you can do to actually help them. You have no medicine, no painkillers - apart from Monty’s moonshine and considering that a painkiller really is a stretch in your opinion -, nothing. Only a few spare blankets you and Clarke gave out earlier, in order to help keep everyone warm.

A sudden wave of anger and irritation at your helplessness when faced with this unknown, dangerous virus overcomes you and you clench your fists in frustration. You allow yourself a moment to try and bury that emotion deep inside - because being this emotionally overwhelmed, you won’t be any help to the others -, closing your eyes and breathing deeply.

When you open your eyes again, they land on Murphy - who’s looking right back at you with his good eye, the other one is still swollen shut.

You gulp, trying to swallow down the nervousness that is suddenly clawing its way up your throat. Murphy’s the one who brought the disease into the Camp.

After being tortured by the grounders for days, you try to remind yourself. After being unceremoniously tossed out of Camp for a murder he didn’t commit. And while he’s definitely a rude asshole that can be a bit unpredictable at times - though you think more often than not he’s just lashing out when provoked, attacked, or in case of the whole Charlotte incident, wrongfully accused - you don’t think that he’s as bad as everyone makes him out to be.

But maybe that’s just you being naive, always wanting to see the good in people. He did try to go after Charlotte, after all. Though, you think, that probably had more to do with him seeking justice - a twisted, self-righteous kind of justice, but still justice - than vengeance.

You sigh, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Whatever the deal with Murphy is - and whatever the reason for you to suddenly spend so much of your thoughts on him is - right now, it doesn’t matter.

Right now the only thing that matters is that he’s sick and hurt and he needs someone to help him clean up his wounds and that’s exactly what you’re here for.

So, you take a deep breath and square your shoulders, before walking over to him and dropping down in front of him. His blue-green eyes - the good one at least- meet yours for just a split second, but then he’s looking away again. You dip the cloth into the bucket of water - after helping Fox and Connor you’d gone out to get some fresh water - and reach out for him, but just when you’re about to touch him, he twists away from you.

„What’re you doing?“, he says, his voice low, distrust and irritation evident in his expression.

„Helping you“, you answer, gesturing to the wet cloth in your hands. „Someone needs to clean up your wounds, Murphy.“

He scoffs. „Yeah, right.“

You frown. „Look Murphy, just let me help you, please.“

He doesn’t say anything to that, doesn’t acknowledge your words with anything other than a raise of his eyebrows, but you decide to just take his lack of a verbal response as a good sign - or at least as a sign that he hopefully won’t refuse your help any further.

You wet the cloth cloth again, before carefully reaching your hand out to him again. This time, he doesn’t twist away from you, so you gingerly touch his bloodied and scarred cheek with your fingertips, before carefully applying pressure with the cloth.

All the while, Murphy looks at you, an undecipherable emotion in his blue-green eyes. The intensity of his gaze is distracting, and you swallow, trying to concentrate on cleaning up his wounds, trying to ignore the burning heat of his gaze. Though it’s impossible to really ignore it, with you two being so close that you can feel his warm breath ghosting over your skin, causing you to shiver.

Something shifts in Murphy’s expression then - if you weren’t paying so much attention, you might’ve missed it, but as it is, you can see the bitter smirk that crosses his lips for an instant, before he bites down hard on his lips.

Your eyes meet then. You swallow - you feel caught in his stare, unable to look at anything but him.

„Why are you helping me?“, he asks you, his voice low and raspy and laced with something that almost sounds like desperation. „I’m the bad guy, in case you forgot.“

„Because you need help“, you say, underlining your words by lightly trailing your fingertips over the deep cut on his left cheek. „And because I want to understand you.“ It’s true - you do want to understand him. You want to know how he came to be who he is today, why on earth he set fire to a room on the Ark.

And fuck. This - this is dangerous.

That bitter smirk crosses his face again. „Oh, so you want to know why I’m such a jerk, why I told the Camp’s location to the grounders, is that it?“

„You were tortured“, you say softly, but Murphy only scoffs.

„Yeah, I’m afraid that doesn’t count as an excuse“, he says, voice full of bitterness.

„Wha-“, you start to say, but then you remember that you saw Bellamy talking to Murphy earlier. And yes, that would certainly explain Murphy’s comments about his being tortured not being an excuse for giving up your location.

You sigh frustratedly. Of course you know that Bellamy only wants to protect everyone at Camp, but you also know him well enough to imagine him making some kind of petty remark how he wouldn’t have caved under torture, wouldn’t have given up the Camp’s location.

Which - fuck that. Anyone would eventually cave under torture, even someone as strong-willed and fierce as Bellamy.

Murphy’s hiss of pain when you accidentally linger too long on one of his cuts with your fingertips draws you out of your thoughts. „Sorry“ you say, biting your lip.

Murphy just shrugs and suddenly you’re hit with the desperate urge to help him, even though you’re not quite sure if there even is anything you can do that could make his situation better - apart from cleaning up his wounds, which you already are doing.

„I’m sorry for what happened to you“, you say then, looking at him. „That’s not - I can only imagine what you went through and I really am sorry that that happened to you.“

Murphy looks at you, confusion and irritation evident in his expression.

„And I know that won’t change anything-“

„No it won’t“, Murphy interrupts you, but this time, there’s no venom in his voice - just pain and resignation. „But it’s nothing I haven’t experienced before.“

Now it’s your turn to be confused. As you continue cleaning up his wounds, you mull over his words in your mind, trying to understand what he’s implying with his words. Does he mean that he was tortured on the Ark? But that can’t be right, can it? Yes, the Ark’s council is strict and unforgiving, but you haven’t heard about them torturing somebody.

„Can you even see anything like that?“, Murphy says, interrupting your thought process, and suddenly he’s reaching out with one hand, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

You swallow, trying desperately not to show how much that one little touch affected you. But your heart is thundering so loudly in your chest that you’re convinced that he’s able to hear it.

Especially once you can no longer pretend to re-inspect the cuts on his face yet again - you really need to take a look at the wounds on his chest.

You clear your throat, trying to sound more confident than you feel. „I - uh - I need to take a look at the wounds on your chest, judging by all that blood I’ll probably need to do some stitches … uhm could you - uh - maybe take off your shirt?“

Kill me, you think, wanting to die from embarrassment. Of course, the first time you’ll see a boy without his shirt on - apart from some of the boys that walk around Camp shirtless in the morning and you don’t think that they actually count - has to be in this weird situation.

As if reading your thoughts, Murphy just smirks, before taking off his shirt. But just when’s almost free of his shirt, he hisses, his face screwing up in pain.

„Let me“, you say, helping him.

For a moment, you just stare at each other breathlessly.

Then, so quietly that you’re not quite sure whether you’ve imagined it, he says: „Thank you.“

You nod, clearing your throat. Not knowing what else to say, you start inspecting his chest, lightly trailing your fingertips over the various scratches and other wounds - trying not to be distracted by his muscles you can feel under your fingertips and his burning gaze.

Murphy hisses again when your fingers brush over a particularly deep wound. „Sorry“, you murmur, leaning in even closer to get a better look at his wound. „This wound needs some stitches, I’m, uh, going to get a needle and some thread.“

You get up and walk over to where all the medical supplies are stored, thankful for this short moment away from Murphy, his intense stare and your confusing thoughts about him.

„Here“, you say, after sitting down in front of Murphy again and hand him the bottle of moonshine you’ve grabbed as well, „you might want to drink this before I get started on those stitches.“

Murphy just nods, taking the bottle of moonshine from you and taking a long, big sip. „Do your worst“, he says, prompting you to roll your eyes.

„Thanks for the vote of confidence“, you murmur, though you can understand why he’d be apprehensive about this. If it were you being in his situation, you’d rather be stitched up by a trained doctor as well, but since you teens are all on your own and Clarke, the only one of you with actual medical training is currently getting some well-deserved sleep, you’re his only option. Unlike Clarke, you haven’t received any actual medical training but you do know how to give stitches - in theory at least - so you hopefully won’t screw this up.

Here goes nothing, you think, getting started on the stitches.

Murphy bites down hard on his lips, though a slight hiss still escapes him.

You cringe, shooting him an apologetic smile before concentrating on his wound again. „Sorry.“

Murphy doesn’t say anything in response, just nods.

You’re both quiet as you continue with the stitches. Then, when you’re almost done, Murphy suddenly says: „I got real sick when I was thirteen … only made it because my dad stole some medicine for me ... course, he got floated for it …“

You swallow, meeting his gaze. You don’t know why he’s suddenly telling you this - you just know that the story he’s about to tell you most likely won’t have a happy ending.

Murphy looks away from you then, laughing bitterly. „My mother … she was never the same after his death … She started drinking. Blamed me for his death. Told me everyday that I’m a worthless good-for-nothing that’s responsible for his father’s death. She died three years after him … and I just-“

He stops talking then, shaking his head.

„Murphy, I-“, you start to say, though you stop as well, not quite knowing what it is that you actually want to say. Murphy suddenly opening up to you is so confusing and his story so heartbreaking, you’re not quite sure what the appropriate words for this situation are, let alone if there even are any.

„Anyway“, Murphy now says, voice tinged with bitterness, „I just - I had all this pai- anger in me and I didn’t know how to handle it, how to let it out. So I set fire to those rooms, got arrested.“

„Murphy …“, you say, your voice hollow, your heart breaking for the broken, angry boy in front of.

He laughs dryly, though the sound has a wheezing quality to it that instantly worries you. „You wanted to know, didn’t you? Wanted to understand why I became such a jerk. Well, there you have it.“

„I do“, you say, putting away the needle and thread and looking at Murphy, meeting his gaze. „I do understand you, Murphy. I still think you’re an opportunistic jerk, but I understand, I really do. I - I know that it’s not worth much, but I am sorry that this happened to you, it’s awful.“

Murphy just shrugs, not saying anything.

But he’s still looking at you and now that you know what to look for, now that you finally understand him better, you see the pain in his expression.

Not just due to the torture. There’s so much more, pain that’s probably been building in him for years and that he turned into sharp, pointed hate and anger, because he didn’t know how to deal with all of his pain.

You want to help him, though you don’t really know how and why. Yes, he is a rude jerk and at Camp he was also somewhat of a bully, but you think that that’s most likely due to him not knowing how to communicate in something that’s not just anger and aggression. But you also believe that there’s more to him - that he’s not just this lonely, broken, rude jerk that that’s probably just a facade he’s hiding behind.

„I understand, Murphy“, you say again, still looking at the storm of emotions in his green-blue eyes. Something shifts in Murphy’s expression then - he’s listening to you and something in his gaze tells you that he believes your words, believes you. „I truly do. But there’s more to life than just pain, anger and aggression.“

With that, you reach out a hand, softly grasping one of his hands with yours. You’re not quite sure why you’re doing it, you just know that you want to be there for Murphy, that you want to help him - and that you want him to understand that you truly mean your words.

Murphy’s arm jerks, as if he wants to rip his hand out of your grasp, but then he grasps your hand, squeezing it lightly. He reaches up with his other hand, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

Just like before, your breath hitches. But this - this is different than before. This time, there’s no venom in Murphy’s gaze, no quiet challenge, no pent-up anger. Just curiosity and something softer that you can’t quite describe.

„I still don’t really get why you’re helping me“, Murphy says, leaning even closer to you. You’re so close that you could count the lashes on his good eye. You feel his breath ghosting over your skin and you shiver in anticipation.

„But I’m glad that I let you.“ With that, he leans in even closer, searching your eyes and whatever he sees in them, must convince him. He presses his lips to yours and you’re so overwhelmed that you don’t know how to react. But just when you feel Murphy starting to pull away, you kiss him back, bringing your free hand up to his neck.

You feel him smirk into the kiss and if you weren’t currently kissing him, you’d definitely roll your eyes at him. As it is, you continue kissing him, though you give his hand a squeeze that’s probably a bit too harsh.

Murphy just smirks again, deepening the kiss and tangling his hand in your hair. You can feel your heart start to beat faster and there’s a curious sensation in your stomach that feels like those butterflies that you’ve read about in books.

You lose yourself in the kiss, in the feeling of Murphy.

Kissing Murphy feels good, though his lips are chapped and dry and he hisses in pain when you overeagerly lean a little too much against him. But still - kissing Murphy feels good.

And even though you’re still confused and you know that one conversation won’t suddenly make him sunshine personified - you like his dry sarcasm way too much for that - you also know that you want more. You want to get to know Murphy, really get to know him, you want to be there for him. And if there are more occasions to kiss him along the way of getting to know him and helping him, then you certainly won’t complain about that.

Murphy gives you one last, bruising kiss, before breaking the kiss, breathlessly leaning his forehead against yours.

„I - Murphy - what …“, you stammer, still too wound up from the kiss.

Murphy smirks. „That was thank you.“

You can’t help but roll your eyes. „I see“, you say dryly.

„For stitching me up … and for not giving up on me“, Murphy adds, his voice serious again.

You smile softly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair out of his eye. „I’ll be sure to stick around then.“

Murphy grins, though there’s a vulnerability to it now that wasn’t there before. „Doesn’t sound too bad …“

„Yeah, it doesn’t“, you agree, before leaning up to kiss him again.

You feel him smiling into the kiss, causing you to smile as well.

Yes, the road ahead is not going to be easy - this is John Murphy, resident sarcastic, rude asshole, after all - but you’re not afraid to walk it with Murphy.

#john murphy x you #john murphy x reader #john murphy imagine #john murphy the 100 #john murphy #the 100 #the 100 imagine #the 100 tv #richard harmon #john mother fucking murphy #the 100 x reader #the 100 x you #maysileewrites

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mystra-midnight · 7 months

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Two Tickets to Paradise

summary: you'd fought and given up, then started fighting again. the lighthouse, which had started as a paradise, was turning into hell, and it was breaking you—slowly tearing away your sanity.

warnings: 18+ only. on the darker side. mentions of alcohol consumption. rough sex. dacryphilia. hints of emotional distress. hints of angst and/or mental anguish.

words: here.

notes: honestly wrote this so surprisingly quickly. murphy's always been one of my favs from the show - the arrogance, the vulnerability, the character development? jesus it just does thinks for me. (i don't think i'd ever say no if you send in thots and imagines for him)

The moment the lighthouse door slammed shut, you should have panicked, but you hadn't been able to find it in yourself to be afraid or even upset. After surviving a trek through a seemingly endless desert, then a boat ride across a seemingly endless ocean, a serpent attack, and a night out in the cold with an injured and angry delinquent, the lighthouse was a welcomed surprise—a perfect paradise.

Not even John—fucking—Murphy, with his toxic tongue and perfect eyes, could ruin your good mood. The two of you had never been particularly close, but you got along well enough that the shared space wasn't uncomfortable. For the first few days, you gave each other space, choosing to sit on opposite sides of the room and occupy yourselves.

Occasionally, the two of you would watch and rewatch the videotape that explained what caused the apocalypse on Earth. On the tenth day, you both drank yourselves stupid and spent hours sharing secrets, thoughts, and theories. You discovered you both had a mutual distrust of the adults who'd arrived on Earth and taken over as though they hadn't sent one hundred kids to their deaths until eventually passing out.

That became your routine for the next forty-five days. Or maybe it was fifty-four. You didn't know.

You tried to keep count, but the days had started to run together, turning into a blur of drunken moments that hurt to think about. You had screamed and cried. You had clawed at the doors until your nails bled. You'd fought and given up, then started fighting again. The lighthouse, which had started as a paradise, was turning into hell, and it was breaking you—slowly tearing away your sanity.

Murphy was in a similar predicament. Some days he screamed and raged around the room, breaking what he could. Other days, he sat completely still and stared ahead as though he no longer inhabited his own body. Eventually, you turned to each other for comfort and escape. That was how you'd found yourself bent over the arm of the sofa, his cock buried deep in your slick walls.

Murphy was wild and untamed, lost in a frenzy of emotions. His hand was fisted in your hair, pulling hard as he pounded you. The sound of his pelvis hitting your ass was obscene and loud, as were the moans and gasps forced from your lips. He was rough—rougher than you liked, but you still couldn't find it in yourself to care.

The pain and pleasure blended so beautifully together that it left you speechless and dazzled, only able to moan each time he pushed into the satin clutch of your cunt. Before this moment, you'd felt hopeless, utterly so, and at the end of your rope, your sanity had been stretched so thin and buried so deep in your being that you never thought you'd find it again.

Murphy found it.

And now the pain was starting to feel so good. It made you forget about the emptiness that had been eating away at you—the hopelessness, the desperation. You needed him. You needed him to stop your thoughts from racing and to fuck everything from your mind until all that remained was him, his cock, and the pleasure searing in your veins.

He happily obliged as he needed the distraction as much as you did.

Both of you needed to feel something—anything—instead of that all-consuming disparity. Luckily, the familiar warmth of orgasm was starting to course through your veins, leaving your skin sweat-slicked and your voice ragged as Murphy adjusted his angle, somehow driving his cock deeper into your sweet cunt, the tip of his cock hitting that spot that sent you suddenly careening.

“Murphy!” You sounded panicked, like you were breaking, and perhaps you were. He did it again, feeling your walls tighten around him. He was dripping with your slick; the wiry hair at the base of his shaft matted; your own equally as messy from where he pulled and yanked it. He was in a frenzy, chasing the climax snaking through his veins, relishing in the feeling of it coiling tighter and tighter in the pit of his stomach until he could hardly breathe, until all he felt was flames licking at his skin.

He was going to break you—maybe kill you—but you didn’t care because the same feelings were consuming you. It was glorious and all-consuming. You started to shake. Your thighs trembled so violently that only the arm of the couch kept you from collapsing.

He didn't notice—or maybe he did and he didn't care; either way, it didn't matter; you didn't mind.

He could use you; you'd let him. He could break you; you'd thank him.

But the moment his cock slipped from your slick walls, you couldn't forgive him. Tears stung in your eyes as you sobbed, the sound welling up from your chest only to be drowned under the sounds of his grunts and groans. Murphy snapped his hips forward, seemingly spurred onward by the tears that rolled down your cheeks in rivers, his pelvis meeting the reddened skin of your ass with a sinful slap, slap, slap.

The moment you needed and wanted with every beat of your heart faded away, your orgasm sleeping through your fingers like waters as you felt thick, ivory rops of come hit your lower back. Murphy tugged hard at your hair, sending pain blossoming through your scalp as he shadowed over you, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

You wanted to be angry. You wanted to fight and rage, as you'd done many times already. But the feel of his other hand moving between your legs, his fingers gathering your slick and bringing it to your own lips to taste, melted such thoughts from your brain.

"Not yet," he hissed, pushing two fingers into your mouth, the taste of your own arousal spreading over your tongue. "Not until you're begging."

#john murphy #john murphy smut #john murphy imagine #john murphy blurb #john murphy fanfiction #john murphy x reader #john murphy x you #john x you

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grotesquebellamy · 2 years

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What We Deserve

asked anonymously: Could you do 24. "you deserve better" with John Murphy please? warnings: minimal proofreading and bad editing :) word count: 1276

To say John Murphy was coming to terms with the relationship the two of you shared was somewhat of an understatement. First he was angry about it, like most things in his life, and he lashed out because of said anger. Picking fights, saying rude things, doing everything in his power to cool that fire that burned in his chest every time he thought about you.

Your relationship started not long after the two of you made it to Earth, you being the caring person you are had checked on him after one of his petty little fights with one of the other delinquents. That one time turned into sneaking into his makeshift tent every night and having conversations until the sun came up.

Murphy is infatuated by you, completely and utterly smitten with every bit of you, not that he would ever admit it. He refuses to acknowledge the blush that takes over his cheeks whenever you're mentioned or the way his heart pounds a mile a minute when you're near.

You two became nearly inseparable even with his lack of commitment, he called it close friends, and you called that bullshit. You know you're not just friends, friends don't look at each other the way you look him and friends don't open up like he does when he's with you. And well, friends don't stop to make out in caves during hunting trips, which you admit is probably the most irresponsible thing the two of you could do, considering the grounders that are currently hiding out in the woods, but that never stops you two.

Although now, nothing is going to stop you, you're going to tell him about your feelings for him, you're going to tell him about how tender he makes your heart and how hazy he makes your mind by doing nothing but being around.

You make your way to his tent at your normal time, taking a second outside to get yourself ready, this could make or break your relationship with him, and honestly, you're nervous to lose him after everything you've been through.

But the nerves seem to fall away as you enter his tent, and you see him in all his glory, shirtless and already laying down, as if he was waiting for you. When he looks up at you his smile is like a sudden beam of sunlight even with it being pitch black outside.

"Hey," is all he says as he beckons you over to him, his arms held out to you. Your body easily molds to his as you lean into his chest. He was only ever like this when it's just the two of you and everyone else is asleep, and it makes you question what it would be like to really be his.

"What happened?" Your finger reaches up and lightly sweeps across his cheek that's adored by a purple and black bruise. But he's quick to brush you off with a shake of his head.

"Nothing, hunting trip gone wrong, don't worry about it," he doesn't seem very interested in talking about it, and you're not one to pry. "What're we talking about tonight?"

You fidget slightly where you're leaned against him and push yourself up into a sitting position, "I have something to tell you." You do your best to sound confident but the nerves are starting to come back to life.

Murphy nods as he falls back against the blanket he uses as a pillow and stares at you expectantly.

"Well you see, I've been wanting to tell you this for a while now," your heart is racing, "and I'm hoping you feel the same way," your cheeks are starting to heat up under this stare, "but I like you John Murphy, and I think I'm starting to fall for you."

He stays there for a second, contemplating his next move, he's never been in this situation before. Yeah, he's had relationships before, but nothing like this situationship, nothing as deep as falling.

He rolls over onto his other side, putting his back to you and essentially forcing you away from him, "I think you should leave Y/N." And your heart shatters.

The next few days are spent with nothing but your longing eyes being stuck on him as he walks around camp and his cold demeanor ignoring anyone and everyone. The nights are harder, no more conversations about your passions and connecting with him on a deeper level, not to mention the warm cuddles that would put you to sleep without fail.

Now you have plenty of sleepless nights that always seem to get colder as they progress, but maybe that's just the lack of his sunshine smile in your life that would warm you from the inside out.

One morning you're woken up to some commotion outside of your tent, and you're quick to make your way out there. You were considered one of the peace makers of the camp and what was happening right now does not sound like peace.

You find Murphy on the ground with his eyes closed and another boy walking backwards shaking his fist, as if he had just punched someone. Which by the look of Murphy's face, he was the one that got punched, and hard too.

The other boy looks ready to come back for seconds, and Murphy still hasn't stood up, he was in no condition to fight with a bloody lip and bruised eye. You're on the ground in a second, your hands finding his face, pressing along his cheekbones, checking for broken bones or fracturs, and he's groaning under your touch.

"Come on," you pull him up onto his feet and into the direction of your tent, where you quickly close the flap behind him as he takes a seat onto your makeshift bed. "What the hell Murphy, what was that all about?"

Murphy groans again and falls back onto the bed, his head landing softly against your pillows. "He's a dick." is all he says.

You roll your eyes and sit down next to him, "And you're not?" You're partly joking, everyone knows Murphy as the camps resident dickhead, you wouldn't be surprised if he thought you were serious.

"Why are you helping me?" he completely ignores your earlier comments.

"You know why," you counter.

He sits up, puts his head in his hands, and mumbles something into them. When you just stare at him instead of answering, he removes his hands and tries again. "I wish you didn't like me," he can tell his words hurt you by the look in your eyes and he does his best to do damage control, "you deserve better, don't you get it? You don't need me, but I need you. You're the only thing in this world that is worth being here for, you mean everything to me. Is that better?"

You're taken aback by his words, completely and utterly speechless as you try to fully take in what he just said. You never expected this from him, he wasn't one to admit his feelings or even say he was wrong, and now he's doing both. A smile starts to break out across your face as you fight back tears, this is everything you've wanted for the longest time and now you have it.

You take his face in your hands once again, minding the bruises that adorn his cheeks and lean forward. He seems to get the gist of it and leans in too, and when your lips connect, it's like fireworks exploding within you. And you know this is exactly where you're meant to be.

a/n: not a fan of the ending but really wanted to get this out as the request has been sitting in my inbox for a while. Anyway hope you like it nonnie!!

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sickoherd · 2 years

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JOHN MURPHY — trying to help.

fluff !!

summary: murphy has the sickness from the grounders.

no pronouns for reader mentioned.

era: dropship

warnings !! illness, brief mentions of blood

“y/n, i’m fine- stop fussing over me!”

murphy saying that made you put the cloth down in frustration. he was very ill, even more so than what the grounders did to him.

you were just trying to help him.

“murphy, i swear-“ you were cut off by him having a coughing fit, and you quickly manoeuvred him into sitting up. you lifted his chin so that’d he accept the canteen of water you were holding against his dry lips.

“you’re not fine murphy.” you whispered as he drunk the water.

finally surrendering, murphy allowed you to place the cool cloth back on his forehead, and carefully comb through his damp hair with your fingertips.

it was a nice feeling, being taken care of. a foreign one, to him.

you didnt know when you started to care for this boy, but it just happened. murphy was somewhat kind to you, when you were sent out hunting together. he watched your back, and you watched his.

you had started falling for him.

and you didn’t know it yet, but murphy was falling too.

#john murphy x you #john murphy x reader #john murphy fanfic #john murphy #the 100 #murphy the 100 #the 100 murphy #the 100 x reader #the 100 fanfiction #richard harmon #bellamy blake #clarke griffin

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maddymoonfics · 2 years

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An Unlikely Friendship

Requested; No

Preseason one

Summary; After you catch john stealing, You and him become unlikely friends. Just as the hint of something more begins to grow, you must make a desperate decision

John Murphy was one of the troubled kids. His father was floated for stealing. That was part of the reason the council decided you weren’t allowed to be friends. Not that you wanted to be anyway. He was bound to cause trouble, and trouble was something you avoided as Council Assistant.

You were about to pick up Chancellor Jaha’s lunch when you saw him. He stood in the line beside you, flashing a smirk to the lady handing out food. You attempted to draw your gaze back to your own line. But you couldn’t. He had to be up to something.

He turned to leave, holding two extra food rations. You knew it! The pride you felt quickly vanished as he started off in the opposite direction. Jaha’s lunch would have to wait. You had a thief to catch.

He glanced back, catching your eye, and his pace quickened. You sped up, desperate to catch him. He turned a corner, away from the sight of the guards. Once he was out of sight he broke into a run. You huffed, pushing yourself to go faster. For a regular citizen he was fast. You were gaining on him. You nearly had him. Maybe you could convince him to give back the rations and Jaha wouldn’t have to know.

He turned down a hall, a hall that was surely a dead end. You blinked. Nothing but an empty hallway. You searched the hall for some kind of escape route. Nothing. You groaned before retreating to the mess hall.

It was a month later when you got the chance to catch him again. You were on your way to the infirmary. Councilor Kane needed something for a headache. Of course, he was too busy with council business, so he sent you. Your goal was forgotten when you spotted Murphy slipping out of the infirmary. You watched as he shoved a medicine bottle into his pocket. His gaze traveled the hall before stopping on you. He rolled his eyes and started toward his escape. You grit your teeth before chasing after him. He tore out. You ran so fast your legs were burning. He was smart, hurtling down every unguarded hall. He changed course darting into a crowded hall.

You burst through the crowd, shoving disgruntled people out of your way. Finally you caught a flash of his face and you pushed on.

He turned down a winding hall. You were right behind him. He turned a corner. You charged forward with as much speed as you could muster. He was gone. Again. A panel snapped shut and your lips quirked up. That’s where he disappeared last time.

You slid the panel back and slipped in behind him. He whipped around. His face was etched in some kind of snarl when he realized you’d followed him. “Give me the medicine,” You demanded bravely. Crossing your arms you jutted your chin. He chuckled, mirroring your posture.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His smug, nonchalant expression was already wearing on your nerves. This thief had the gall to lie to your face. Your confident expression faltered and you fought to regain your air.

“The council won’t have to know if you give it to me.” Your voice was cold, not a drop of compassion for the young criminal. Have you ever sounded like that before? His smirk dropped slightly.

“The council’ll know either way so—” He shrugged, turning to walk farther into what appeared to be an old maintenance shaft. You exhaled sharply and trailed behind him. You could picture the look on Jaha’s face when you handed John Murphy over yourself. This could be great for you.

“What’s so important you break the law?”

He grunted climbing over some kind of pipe. He must have been stealing for a while because he seemed to know where to go in the maze of pipes and wires.

“What law is more important than human life,” he snapped. You could see the anger flashing in his eyes. You swallowed, sticking to your guns.

“The Council could help!” You scrambled over the pipe to keep up with him. He laughed cold and bitter.

“The council can all go float themselves,” He spat, The disdain, pure hatred in his tone startled you. He stopped abruptly and you nearly ran into him. He glared at you with narrowed eyes. “Go away before I do something we both won’t like.” Your eyes widened.

“They’ll float you just like your father,” You sneered, shocking yourself and him. Crossing your arms over your chest your heart thumped rapidly in your ears. The mechanical beeps did nothing for the silence that cut between you two.

“Yeah,” He started abruptly, breaking the silence. “You’ll float me either way,” He shrugged again and ducked under a loose wire, which you nearly got caught in. He backed through a panel which swung open to reveal the ark church? Your eyes adjusted to the bright room as he casually stepped out of the wall and sauntered away. Scoffing you followed behind him.

He glanced back, assumingly checking to see if you’d followed him. He rolled his eyes and stepped back, right into a black haired lady. He offered his signature smirk, taking his hands out of his jacket to shake her hand. She smiled, looking distressed as he muttered an apology. You crossed the room to join them. The woman’s expression cleared and she pat his shoulder. “Have a good day John,” she called, throwing a glare your way.

You watched her walk away before realizing Murphy had already taken off. Groaning you ran to catch up with him. He smirked at you and something mischievous flashed in his eyes.

“Do you want the pills back?” You crossed your arms, glaring daggers at him. “Cool. Here.” He shrugged off his jacket and threw it into your hands. You hastily searched the pockets only to find them empty. You frowned, his smirk growing smug. A realization dawned on you.

“You gave them to that woman!” He gave you a final shrug and disappeared into the growing crowd. Church service. The perfect time for a get-away.

You flopped onto your bed, going over the interaction you’d had with Murphy. You should have told Jaha when you caught Murphy stealing rations. Now if you told him, it would look suspicious. Who waits a month before reporting a crime? A traitor that’s who. You grabbed Murphy’s jacket off the floor and started searching through the pockets. Maybe you’d find something—Like a note. You sat straight up. Fumbling for your light you worked on uncrumpling and straightening the note. An address was scrawled in messy handwriting. A smile spread across your face. You caught him now.

Kane called a meeting. Something important you assumed. Unfortunately you’d have to skip it. Shoving the piece of paper into Murphy’s jacket, you shrugged it on. If anyone asked, you were on an errand for Jaha himself. No one would question it.

You traversed the halls quickly. Nobody questioned the assistant of the council going against the crowd of people.

You arrived at the address. A tiny, rudimentary Ark apartment. You forwent knocking. The owner of the apartment would be at the meeting. A pang of guilt shot through your stomach as you punched the master code into the keypad. The code was only for emergencies, Kane made that clear. The doors beeped and slid open.

The apartment was empty, as you expected. Flicking on the light you began your search for the pills. You had to find the medicine. It shouldn’t be wasted on some drug addict.

You finished searching the entire living room and the only place left was the bedroom. It felt wrong to go through someone’s personal belongings. But the reward you’d get for bringing the pills back would be worth it.

The door creaked as it opened. The lights were off and as you struggled to find the switch you heard something. “Mommy,” a small, croaky voice called out before breaking into a fit of coughs. You flinched, managing to hit the light switch as you stumbled into the wall.

The light revealed a small mattress, fitted in between a dresser and the wall. It was barely a step away from the regular bed. There was a little girl, who looked every bit as sick as she sounded. Her skin was pale, sweat pooling on her brow. She lurched forward to cough again. Your stomach turned as she coughed up the smallest bit of blood. Her wide eyes landed on you. “I–” Cough, “I’m okay. Mommy got the medicine!” Her cheeriness didn’t reach her eyes. She fell back onto the makeshift bed. She must have noticed your horrified expression because she offered a smile. “Did she send you to give me more?” Her nose wrinkled up as she pointed a shaking hand to the pill bottle on the dresser.

You stood up and grabbed the pills off the dresser. “They taste nasty, But—” She coughed out a name you couldn’t catch. “Promised me he’d get me something really tasty,” She chirped before coughing even more. You sat down on the large bed to read the label. Hopefully whatever they had stolen would help. You frowned. The medicine was perfectly fine. Abby would have prescribed it to the child, if they’d taken her in. You stood up. “Stay with me,” She whimpered, “Please? The dark is full of monsters.” You slid to the floor, sitting down beside her. She reached a shaking hand out to squeeze yours. Why would someone have to steal medicine for her, when she actually needed it?

“I’ll stay until your mom comes back,” You assured her, looking over her shivering form. She was frail, like she hadn’t eaten in days. Or Judging by the bucket at her feet, she’d been hurling everything up.

The slamming of a door made you jump. “Vallie,” A voice called. A recognizable voice. John Murphy shouldered into the room, eyes widening as he spotted you hovering beside Vallie. You stood. He groaned, running a hand over his face. “Steal the medicine back from the kid. Yeah. Great job assistant.” He crossed the room and ripped the bottle out of your hand.

Vallie blinked, distress growing on her face. “Mommy Said I need that. You were going to take it?” Tears welled up in her big green eyes as they searched your face. Murphy glared at you as he knelt beside Vallie. “I don’t want to die,” She sniffled, bordering on hysterics.

“I wasn’t going to take it,” You snapped, arms crossed defensively. Murphy didn’t seem convinced. You would have been offended but you didn’t trust him either.

“Vallie, You’re magic, remember, you can’t die.” He looked at her with mock suspicion. she paused, blinking, before a broad smile spread across her face.

“Yes! Superheroes can’t die silly, she giggled as Murphy stood and ruffled her hair.

“That’s right Val. Superheroes can’t die.” He turned to you, all traces of his previous softness gone. “Let me talk to our friend outside.” Vallie nodded.

You followed behind him as he led you to the sparse living room. “Why didn’t you take her to see Abby,” You asked, sounding more accusatory than you intended.

“Because,” His face twisted “The best choice was to risk our lives to steal medicine,” He rolled his eyes, making you feel stupid.

They had taken her to Abby. Abby turned them away. Your heart sank with the realization. He laughed humorlessly. “Jaha told Abby,” His tone dripped with cold fury, “ “The child wasn’t important enough to be saved.” He sneered. You shuddered, Jaha himself doomed a little girl to death. Murphy crossed his arms, sending a glare your way. “When you take your precious information to Jaha, Leave Val’s name out of your mouth or so help me I will kill you.” The look in his eyes assured you the threat wasn’t a joke. A chill crept down your spine and you squared your shoulders. He turned to return to Val.

“What can I do to help?”

“You can’t. You’re the council’s little rat,” He spat, you fought the urge to hurl a name his way. Huffing you rolled your eyes. Was that really how people saw you?

“I’m serious, she’s really sick—” you started tentatively

“Yeah I know that,” He snapped, eyes flashing. He let out a sharp breath.

“Wells had it when we were young.” You frowned at the memory. “Jaha gave him the best treatment. It’s only fair Vallie gets it too.” You stared at him, arms crossed. He ran a troubled hand through his hair. “It’ll be easier if we work together,” You reasoned, a pang of sympathy settling in your heart for the boy. He groaned contemplating. You knew he didn’t trust you, why would he?

The sound of puking coming from Val’s room made you both jump. You both rushed in to check on her. She was hunched over the edge of a bucket. John’s nose screwed up as she wretched again, tears streaming down her face. You sat beside her, gently rubbing circles on her back. When she was done John took the bucket out, hesitantly leaving you alone with val.

“Are you taking my medicine away,” she asked quietly, eyes wide and frightened. Her face was stained with tears, your heart wrenched.

“No, of course not. I promise, I’m going to help.” Val’s eyes narrowed before she grabbed your hand. Assumingly deciding that you were trustable. She sighed dramatically, and you raised a brow.

“Can I tell you a secret?” She glanced at the door. You nodded and she gave your hand a light squeeze. “John thinks I’m a superhero,” She giggled mischievously before breaking off in violent coughs. Her whole body shook. When the coughing died down she frowned, wiping the trail of blood from her mouth. “Am I going to die,” She whimpered the question, eyes wide and lip trembling. You drew in a sharp breath. The twisting feeling in your stomach didn’t seem to be letting up any time soon.

“No, you’re not going to die.” You offered a reassuring smile. “Superheroes can’t die,” You added winking.

The medicine wasn’t working. Vallie was growing worse by the day. Her eyes seemed hollow and she barely had enough energy to smile. She needed something stronger. The problem? The antibiotics strong enough to help were always kept under lock and key. You explained the situation to John as you sat down beside him. He sat on the floor, close enough to the hall to hear if Vallie needed him. You were splitting your rations after he gave his to Val. In hopes she’d keep it down. She didn’t. “She can’t keep anything down, we don’t have a choice but to use my plan,” You reasoned, a small pin prick of excitement growing. This would be your first time actually stealing something. Something more than a pen at least. He groaned, throwing his head back. His hair fell over his eyes as he straightened up, offering you a smirk. A realization hit you as the familiar spark of mischief appeared in his eyes. You’re friends with John Murphy. The boy everyone warned you about.

“We can’t risk getting caught, so you can’t come.” His smirk played on his lips teasingly. You shot him a heatless glare.

“You’re the worst Murphy,” You remarked playfully. He chuckled and your grin turned sly. You turned up your nose and took the shared rations into your lap. "You can find your own rations,” He rolled his eyes, reaching across your lap to nab a bite of your food. Your face might have heated up a little at the sudden closeness but he’d never know.

You shoved the plate off your lap and shot up, dashing toward the door. John was quick to follow, shrugging on his jacket. Val’s mother would be back soon, and who were you to tell her, her child was incurable?

The two of you stopped a hall away from the infirmary. “So the plan is–”

“You told me six times I think I got it,” He snapped with no real anger.

Squaring your shoulders you looked John in the eyes. “Do I look convincing,” you asked, feigning confidence. He suppressed a laugh, before shaking his head.

“Very convincingly going to get us both caught.” And with that vote of confidence you lightly shoved his shoulder as you passed by. In the month you’d been helping him care for Val he’d grown on you. like mold on a piece of bread.

You walked straight into the infirmary and straight to Jackson. With shoulders squared you looked him straight in the eyes and lied. “Wells needs something for pain, he’s got an awful headache.”

“Why didn’t he come get it himself, you’re not his assistant, you're his father’s,” Jackson’s tone held a hint of suspicion. You watched as John stole the cabinet keys from the wall and snuck into the office.

“Not sure. I think sometimes the council's kids get a little entitled. But you didn’t hear that from me,” You chuckled, holding your hands out in front of you. Jackson turned to go into the office, and you panicked. Maybe asking for pain medicine wasn’t the best plan. “Oh! And–” He turned back around; John’s silhouette was visible in the office window. “It hurts really bad when I bend my arm like this,” You gave an example, carefully bending and twisting your arm as if it hurt to do so. Jackson blinked, holding your arm as he looked over it.

“A sprain maybe,” he reasoned, still surveying your imaginary pain. John slipped past behind him, offering you a proud smirk while holding up the bottle of pills. “It should feel better soon, I’ll get the pain pills for Wells.” He headed toward the office as John slipped out of the infirmary. You let out a breath of relief.

After getting the pills from Jackson you met John back at Vallie’s apartment. “For once you actually had a decent plan. I’m impressed,” He deadpanned, head over the back of the couch as you walked in. A broad smile spread across your face. He held a finger over his mouth and shot a pointed look toward Vallie’s bedroom. Covering your mouth you attempted to stifle a laugh. The rare trace of a genuine smile flickered across his face. You dropped the pain pills into his lap as you slid beside him on the couch.

“You should be impressed. I even got extra!” You lightly poked his side. He rolled his eyes, and smirked. His smirk disappeared as Vallie's mother appeared in the hall. She wore a tired smile as she passed by, into the small kitchen.

“I don’t know how I’ll pay you back,” she muttered, standing behind the couch. John’s expression faltered, and he shot the woman a confident look.

“Don’t worry about it, It should have been free anyway.” He shrugged, but shot you a glance, as if expecting you to disagree.

“Exactly. Vallie deserves the best. She’s a charming girl, she certainly got it from you,” You smiled, watching as her expression lightened. You felt John’s gaze on your face.

Vallie was getting better. The new medicine was making her stronger by the day. You should have stopped helping John, now that Val was on the mend. But, unlike any of the jobs you did for the council, you were helping people.

Today was different from usual. Today you and John sat in the cafeteria. It was a small celebration for Vallie’s health. Since she’d been keeping her food down, you both had no reason to spend all your ration points on her. It was nice— which was more than you thought you’d ever say about being around John Murphy.

A deep brown haired woman appeared, planting both her hands on the table. You shot her a glare and moved your tray away from her hands. “What do you want,” John snapped, glaring up at the intruder.

“Aurora Blake,” She announced, a sly business-like smile plastered across her face. She reached out to shake his hand, ignoring you completely. He didn’t take it. She blinked, finally sparing you a glance. “I wouldn’t expect a tight-laced council servant to be involved in thefts.” You stiffened, John did as well. What if she told the council? You’d both be floated. Her sly smile spread, a cruel glint in her eyes. “Don’t worry,” she leaned over to rub circles on John’s shoulder. He physically recoiled. “I’m not ratting you out to anyone.” She sat down beside him, leaning closer to him as she spoke. “I need you to get me something, Strong, for pain.” You looked her up and down. While John ignored her request, seemingly thinking as he finished his rations.

“Can’t you go to the infirmary,” you suggested, some kind of annoyance building in your tone. She sighed and turned away from him to face you. An emotion flashed across her face, desperation? Deceit? You couldn’t tell, in the second it was gone.

She was silent for a moment, her calculating eyes on you. “I can’t bring her to the infirmary. She doesn’t exist.”

Murphy looked up, a smirk playing on his lips. “If she doesn’t exist then why does she need drugs?” Aurora’s jaw tightened and she let out a quiet huff.

“She’s my daughter.” Her voice steeled, as her gaze bore into yours, “There’s just some things my son can’t get for her.” You gaped at her; eyes wide. She had two kids. John cleared his throat, sending a swift kick to your leg under the table.

“Fine. Leave it to me—” You kicked him back and glared at him pointedly. “Leave it to us,” he corrected, smirking. Aurora nodded, offering John a smile.

“There will be compensation,” She added, a sultry edge to her voice you hoped you’d imagined. She slid her arm down John’s shoulder and winked. Your stomach churned and Aurora left.

“Gross,” You spat wrinkling your nose. John’s brow quirked. “She wants to repay you with sex.”

He chuckled, “Yeah, I gathered that,” A smug expression flicked across his face, “Maybe I’ll take her up on the offer.” You crossed your arms and glared at him. His chuckle became a full, joyous, laugh. You committed it to memory. He’d never looked as happy as he did now. He seemed to realize that too, clearing his throat he collected himself.

“You have a beautiful laugh John,” you remarked, sliding out of your seat. “You should do it more often.” You glanced back to check if he was following and noted the tinge of pink rising up his neck.

“The pills you got won’t be strong enough for her.”

“Then when can we get something strong enough?”

“Unless you want to get caught, tomorrow, the guards are on high today,” He explained nonchalantly. He followed you through the hall.

You stopped abruptly. He nearly ran into you before stepping back and looking at you questioningly. You took a deep breath. “What,” He questioned, eyeing your nervous expression.

“You know there’s a masquerade,” You started slowly, his eyes narrowed.

“No.”

“No? You don’t even know what I was going to say,” You groaned. He raised a brow, allowing you to explain. “Come with me to the masquerade,” You pleaded, watching his expression change several times in three seconds.

“I don’t dance,” He said finitally. Your face fell and he let out a long sigh. “Fine.”

“Fine?” Your hopeful expression seemed to melt his annoyance.

“Fine. No dancing though.” He held his hands up in surrender. The smile that erupted on your face was contagious. His lips quirked up. “See you tomorrow.” He ducked his head and headed off to wherever he went when not with you.

You didn’t know much about John’s home life. Besides the fact Jaha had his father floated for stealing. Medicine. You thought it was brave of him to do the same thing.

When John didn’t show up the next day, or the next, or the next, You started to get worried. Unfortunately he’d never told you where he lived. You groaned inwardly, narrowly avoiding a very watchful guard. You’d have to steal Aurora’s medicine alone. Your stomach already churned at the idea. You hadn’t done a steal without John watching out for you. You rounded the corner, into the infirmary. Jackson was at lunch—But apparently Abby wasn’t. You turned to leave. But she called your name and you tried to stay calm. “What’s bothering you,” She asked, eyes boring into you. The guard returned from his shift change and watched the two of you. You hummed.

“A really awful headache. I can’t do my job if I can’t think straight.” Abby looked you up and down suspiciously.

“Have you been hanging out with John Murphy,” She questioned, quietly. She used some kind of light to check your eyes. Your heart hammered and you crossed your arms. “His father was known for stealing. He’s a bad influence.” Something about the way she said it made your blood boil.

“My head is splitting, Abby. Just give me something,” You snapped impatiently. She frowned and looked at you the way you assumed she did Clarke. Before you could tell her never mind, she handed you a bottle of pills. You thanked her and turned to leave. She followed you a few steps away from the guard. “He needs you right now. If you really want to risk being friends with him.” Her voice lowered in volume as her next patient appeared. You whipped around. Catching her serious expression your heart.

“What happened?” You peered past Abby, looking toward the several hospital beds. Was he here? Was he hurt?

“His mother was just found dead.” She paused letting you digest the news. “High levels of alcohol in her blood.” You stared at Abby, her words processing. She paused searching through a pile of medical files. She flipped John’s mother’s file toward you and pointed out the address. before she could say anything else you bolted.

You ran through the nearly endless hallways. You had so many thoughts running through your head. The most prominent: You had to be there for him. Finally you reached his small apartment. Knocking you tried to calm your racing heart. No reply. “John,” You called, only to be met with silence. You knocked again and a dulled crash came from the other side of the door. You panicked, kneeling down to punch in the master-code. It failed. Unauthorized use. Someone on the council knew you were helping John and unauthorized you. Shaking your head you pushed the thought back. It wasn’t important right now. “John it’s me!” You desperately pounded on the door. “John? Please open the door,” You begged, your stomach dropping. The doors slid open and your heart cracked into a thousand pieces. He leaned against the doorway with red rimmed eyes and crossed arms.

“What do you want,” He snapped, his narrowed eyes showing little emotion. His tone shot an Icicle through your stomach.

“I heard what happened I—”

“Go away.” His tone left little room for argument. At least it would for strangers. You could tell it was an act. His shoulders were dangerously close to slumping. His eyes close to exposing his tightly clamped emotions.

You stepped forward, chin jutting in indignification. “I want to help.” He opened his mouth to argue but you continued, “Please don’t shut down,” He took a step back as you took one forward.

“I’m fine,” He growled, moving to close the doors.

“I know you aren’t okay! You don’t have to pretend with me! I care about you, ” you confessed, voice shrinking to just above a whisper. You searched his face for any sign of the boy you’d been friends with for months. His hand hovered over the control panel, he was shaking. You reached forward and he flinched. His ocean blue eyes finally met yours and he melted. He crumpled and you stepped forward to pull him into an embrace.

Allowing the door to close, you took in the state of his messy apartment. You took his hand and led him to the small couch in the middle of the room. His apartment was smaller than yours, which you were starting to see as a trend. His eyes stared past you, tears streaming down his face. You glanced around the house. There was glass on the floor, near the wall. A drying stain ran down above it. A strong smell of alcohol floated around.

Kicking yourself into action you began, carefully, picking up the shards of glass. “Stop,” He demanded, voice shaky. You shook your head, only stopping when all the glass was safely disposed of.

You plopped onto the couch beside him and it groaned stiffly. He stared pointedly at the carpet. “Do you want to talk about it,” you cooed, as if he were fragile, as if one word would return him to the state, you’d found him. His head whipped up to glare at you. If it were anyone else it might have scared you..

“What I want is for the idiot who floated my father to burn,” He seethed, pure fury flashing in his eyes. You gaped, taken aback by his sudden outburst. Trying to guide him away from that subject you reached out to rub his shoulder. He recoiled, looked at you with an expression half mixed with apologies and half with rage. He jumped up, putting half the room between you both.

He knelt down and picked up one of the unopened bottles by the couch. Black-market moonshine you assumed. “John,” You called questioningly. Concern seeped into your tone. He uncapped the bottle and stared at it. As if it would reveal the answers to unanswerable questions. A flash of disgust twisted his features as he brought the bottle to his lips and drank. You stood up, crossing the room to stand in front of him.

The bottle flew across the room. It narrowly missed you. Flinching as you watched it shatter into a small TV. “What the hell,” You managed, eyes wide as you turned back to the man before you. You felt as though all the air had been pulled from your lungs. Tears began to spring to your eyes.

“Every idiot on this ark deserves to burn,” He growled, before breaking into a maniacal chuckle. For once in your friendship, you were actually scared of John Murphy. He was the boy you never should have spoken to. The boy you should never have cared about. You tried to steady yourself, stepping closer to the raging man before you.

“You don’t mean that,” You whispered, hoping he’d realize how horrified you were, how horrific it sounded. He met your eyes, and years of pain flashed across his face.

“I killed my father,” he said with a smile that didn’t quite fit his tone. “Why not the rest of them?” He asked rhetorically, voice colder than ice, yet burning with rage. You reached out once again. Pleading with the universe to allow him some kind of comfort.

But he stepped back.

He stepped away from comfort. Away from safety, and into a world you weren’t sure you could follow.

You crossed your arms, trying to hold back the tears already flowing from your eyes. Your fingernails dug into your arms. The only word echoing through your head was; No.

He stormed out of his apartment. He expected you to come. To join him in his crazed haste to destroy human life. You took a deep breath and tried again. “You didn’t kill your father, John.” He winced as if the words were hot iron stabbing through his veins.

“He got the medicine for me,” He sneered back at you, disappearing down the hall.

You wiped your tear-stained cheeks with John’s jacket sleeve. The jacket had somehow appeared in your care after months of friendship. You cleared your throat and knocked on Aurora Blake’s door. A long series of crashes happened before the doors began to slide open. Aurora stood in front of you. She looked around, assumingly noting the absence of John. “I got your medicine,” You announced, fishing the bottle from your pocket. Aurora frowned before stepping aside to invite you in. You cautiously stepped into her house. It was only slightly bigger than John’s.

“Octavia,” She snapped to no-one. You staggered backwards as the floor opened up and a girl shot out. You gaped, the living proof of lawbreaking stood in front of you. You shouldn’t have been so surprised. After all, you broke the law all the time with the ever confusing John Murphy.

“Will John be by later for payment?” She tilted her head slightly. The hesitance in her tone suggested she hoped that was not the case. You chuckled lightly, introducing yourself to Octavia.

“No. No payment necessary.” You hid a grimice. Was “payment” something she did regularly? Was that how people who weren’t in favor of the council lived?

The doors opened again and a tired looking man stepped in. His expression grew guarded as he noticed you. You could see the way his shoulders tensed. You smiled attempting to calm him. Aurora chuckled and walked straight past the man. You could only assume that he was her son son.

“I’ll be back later. Be nice Bellamy,” She made a show of tussling his hair and he shot her a glare.

“Who are you,” He started accusingly as soon as the doors had closed again.

“Could I bribe you for a dress,” Octavia interjected, interrupting the staring match you were having with her brother. You raised a brow, confused. “Bells is taking me to the masquerade.” She shot a teasing look toward her brother, “And I don’t think he knows what dresses are in style.” You opened your mouth to respond only to be cut off again.

“No. We don’t need help. Octavia I’ll find you a dress,” He grunted, annoyed while toeing out of his shoes.

You smiled back at O, her smile infectious. “I can get you a dress, easy.” Her face lit up and she playfully punched Bellamy's shoulder as he walked past. He whipped around and threw her over his shoulder. She shrieked as he threw her onto a nearby bed. You laughed, for the first time since John stormed off yesterday.

You thought the dress O pick out looked good on her. Bellamy agreed to escort both you and her to the masquerade. You didn’t expect John to show up. After all, you hadn’t seen him since he stormed off.

Bellamy was tense, which made sense. His sister’s existence was a secret, and here she was in the middle of everyone. He crossed his arms, watching as Octavia joined a group of dancing people. You knocked his shoulder. He glared down at you. “Have a little fun tonight Bellamy.” You grinned nodding towards Octavia who seemed to be having the time of her life. “I’ll watch her.” You watched as he relaxed a little. Eyes still trained on his sister. “This is a party Bells, let loose a little,” You shook your shoulders and he chuckled. Raising your eyebrows suggestively you disappeared into the crowd.

you laughed joyously, happily spinning and dancing with the crowd. Your laughter was cut short as a familiar pair of eyes locked with yours. John. You pushed through the crowd following his ocean eyes. Smiling, you finally caught up with him. “Hey! I didn’t think you’d come,” You announced warmly. Your smile faltered as you noticed his panicked expression. “John?” You had to raise your voice over the music. His wandering eyes snapped to yours.

“Be quiet,” He snapped, glaring deep into your eyes. He glanced around as if he was expecting one of the dancers to grab him and pull him into the crowd.

He must have noticed the hurt flashing across your face. Because his eyes softened. He grabbed your wrist and yanked you deeper into the throng of people. You pulled your wrist free, eyes flashing. “What the hell," You spat “You couldn’t have at least told me you were okay?” His smirk faltered. A group of guards filed into the crowd they scanned the room. Some kind of alarm blared in the background.

One of the guards edged closer, he was telling the party goers to take off their masks. You moved to remove yours when John grabbed your wrist and pulled you closer. His wide panicked eyes searched yours. You opened your mouth to question him when his lips landed on yours. You gasped and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. He tasted like alcohol and smoke. You grabbed onto his shirt, pulling yourself even closer to him. You felt like you were floating. Your hands traveled up towards his hair. Suddenly your lips were ripped from his. Your eyes shot open, and you fought to catch your breath. Here you were, kissing the boy you shouldn’t have spoken to.

The guard ripped John’s mask off. “John Murphy. You are hereby under arrest for the capital crimes as such: Arson and theft,” The guard who didn’t seem much older than yourself, spoke with authority. Your mouth dropped open. John tore his eyes off the floor to meet yours. They weren’t apologetic.

“Wait,” your voice came out more level than you expected. The guard looked you up and down.

“What,” He snapped like you were wasting his time. You couldn’t catch your breath. You swallowed nervously before continuing.

“What did he do?” You braced yourself for the answer. The answer you hoped you didn’t know.

The guard cleared his throat. “John Murphy set fire to an officer’s office, after stealing irreplaceable medicine and valuable food rations.” The guard’s gaze held a hint of pity. For once you wished you weren’t the council’s rat. They wouldn’t believe you stole anything. You couldn’t go with him. John took your silence as betrayal because it was plain on his features.

You opened your mouth to speak but it was too late. The guards wrenched him backwards. They pulled him out of your world, out of your grasp. Your hand hovered over your lips.

A month later you sat across from Bellamy in his apartment. It was your goal to help Bellamy take care of his sister from outside the prison. He glanced up from where he sat on his bed. The two of you had gotten to be better friends. When his mom was floated you were there for him. “Have you talked to him?” Bellamy raised an accusatory brow. You frowned, choosing to fold the blanket you were giving to O. Since John was arrested you refused to see him. After all he didn’t seem like he wanted to see you.

“I’m not going to,” You muttered shamefully. That was the truth. You wouldn’t. What would you say? Sorry you got locked up? He would be floated for his crimes, and you couldn’t handle it. So the best choice was to avoid him completely. It didn’t help that you fell asleep thinking about him, and the way his lips felt on yours. Bellamy let out a huff. He was sorting through a collection of his mom’s stuff. The stuff would fetch a few more points for whatever he was buying for Octavia. You groaned, rubbing your palms on your eyes. “See you tomorrow, Bells.” He sent you the same disapproving look as usual.

You mouthed the along with him, “Get some sleep,” he nagged, you snickered as you slid past the doors and toward your own house.

It was too early when Bellamy all but dragged you out of bed. “Get up or I’m leaving you here,” He struggled to find the light switch. He finally found the switch and you threw an arm over your eyes.

“What are you talking about,” You groaned, still half asleep. He tugged on your arm.

“They’re sending all the prisoners to earth.” His voice held an edge of panic. You shot upright wide eyed.

“Shit,” you swore, throwing yourself out of bed, “What!?”

“Hurry up! They’re boring right now.” He started toward the door, and you were right behind him.

By the time you got to the docking bay prisoners were being loaded up. Bellamy had disappeared claiming he had a plan. It was up to you to get on the ship. You’d plummet to earth and make things right with John. Easy right?

Jaha finished some kind of speech. Then you saw him. John was being loaded in with the other criminals. You winced as a guard kneed him in the stomach. He hadn’t even done anything. You knew John’s mouth of his would get him into trouble on earth.

The doors to the ship began to close. You watched as Bellamy boarded. Chaos erupted. People screamed and the guards rushed around. It was now or never. You froze. Feet rooted to the spot. What if you got on the ship and it didn’t make the drop? Images of the fury filled flames danced in your mind. Oh god what if you died a radiation fueled death, the agony would be so unbearable.

The dropship door slammed shut. The decision was made for you. Tears sprung to your eyes as the door sealed. You wouldn’t get in now. You watched in horror as the ship undocked and rocketed toward earth.

Cold dread filled your stomach along with a realization. You slid to the floor, a sob escaping your lips.

You’d rather burn up in space with him than live life on the ark without him.

#fanfic #x reader #fluff #angst #John Murphy Angst #john murphy x you #john murphy x reader #john murphy #john murphy the 100 #fanfiction #pre canon #the 100 john murphy #x you

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topazy · 2 years

Text

Chosen side

Paring: John Murphy x reader

Warnings: Swearing

Chapter: 6.03

You scrunch your nose up as Clarke re-enters the bar wearing a pretty pink dress.

You face the other way and finish the drink in your hand. If Joaquin was the one out there, nobody would be able to stop you from looking for him. The blonde was always better at politics than you, and she probably had some kind of plan in place to save herself, Abby, and Madi. It was just a shame for the rest of you that her loyalty stopped there.

Murphy placed his hand on your back as you listened to Abby comforting her daughter, who once again was paying attention to some bullshit peace talk. “Just be yourself. Don’t tell them more than you have to and don’t lie.”

Murphy scoffs, “Unless they ask about the end of the world. In that case, maybe don’t tell them you fired the first shot.”

“Don't worry, Murphy.” Clarke looked over his shoulder at him. “Hell’s big enough for both of us.”

You spin round fast, anger boiling inside you. “What did you just say to him?”

“Let it go,” Murphy says, shaking his head. You look into his tired eyes and feel nothing but guilt. Maybe he wouldn’t have almost died if you’d come to earth with him. He deserved so much better. Murphy moves his hand from your back to link with your fingers, “I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to make this a safe home for Joaquin.”

—

You sit down across from Emori, frowning as you notice Abby talking to your partner. What the hell could she be saying to him? You didn’t want Griffin near your family.

“Couldn’t convince him to eat?” Miller asks between bites of food.

“No,” you said, sighing.You couldn’t even convince him to drink something other than alcohol. Whatever happened to Murphy when he died scared him, and he was trying to block it out. He looked defeated.

Emori filled you, Jackson, and Miller in on life in space. It made you happy to hear how quickly Emori and Echo were accepted by everyone else on the ring. You smiled until you noticed a worried-looking Clarke coming down the stairs into the tavern. She had changed out of her pretty dress and back into her “murder gear,” as Murphy called it, which wasn’t a good sign.

“Jordan told them everything,” she announced. “Where is he?”

To your surprise, Murphy told her, “on the roof with the barmaid.”

You frowned at him, and took off after Clarke while she went to look for Jordan. When you reached the roof, you were horrified to see Jordan laying on the ground.

“Jordan!” You rushed to kneel beside him. He slowly started to wake up, “Hey, hey, you're okay.”

One of the guards from the sanctum shoved you to the side and lifted Jordan to his feet. “Where is she? Where’s Delilah?”

You shoved him back, “Back off! He’s hurt and just a kid.”

The man lets go when he spots someone running through the garden below. “The children of Gabriel are in the compound. They’ll use the night harvest to try to get her out. You need to follow me, please.”

“We can’t leave him,” Clarke argued.

“You go and I’ll stay with Jordan.”

She gave you a quick nod and left with the guard to look for the missing girl.

—

As you helped Jordan walk into the bar, you smiled when you noticed Bellamy apologising to Murphy for what happened when they were under the influence of the red sun. Your smile grew even wider when you noticed Raven, “Hey Reyes!”

The brunette pulled you in for a hug, “glad to see you're alright.”

“You too.”

Just as you pulled back from the embrace, Russell entered the room. It’s been a long day, so I’ll keep this short. “Sanctum was created to be a sanctuary for the human race. After seeing you save Delilah, we’ve decided that you deserve that too.��

“So we can stay?”

“For now,” Russell’s wife Simone answers. “No more of you.” You tense at her words and share a concerned look with Murphy as she continues. “You will follow our rules and respect our traditions, and we will teach you how to survive here.”

“What my wife is trying to say is, welcome to the sanctum.”

Murphy comes up behind you and wraps his arm around your waist. He whispers into your ear, “Don’t worry about getting our boy here; I’ll figure it out.”

You relaxed at his words. You weren’t sure how he’d do it, but you had every faith he’d figure out a way to get your son into the sanctum safely. You lean your head back slightly and kiss him softly on the lips. “Aww,” Diyoza stops in front of you, smiling, “you two have a kid right?”

You nod, “a son.”

Her hand rested on her stomach, “Is it really as bad as they say it is?”

“Worse than you can even imagine,” you say, chuckling at her expression. “You’ve been through a helluva lot. I’m sure childbirth will be a walk in the park for you.”

She smiles at you both before walking towards Madi. Murphy tightens his grip on you, making you laugh. “You know, I want to hear every detail of what I’ve missed; the pregnancy, childbirth, his first steps.”

Your attention was drawn from Murphy to Russell when he spoke loudly, “Charmaine Diyoza?”

Diyoza looks at him confused. “Yes.”

“Escort this woman past the shield right now!” Russell orders

Bellamy tries to interject as two guards, “Just wait. What is this?”

Diyoza shrugs, “Seems my reputation precedes me.”

You all stand there in shock as Russell has his men forcefully march a pregnant woman out of the sanctum. It’s not until the rooms go quiet that you look around and notice someone is missing. You step out of Murphy's grip and look up at Bellamy. “Where’s Octavia?”

—

You lie on the soft bed, staring up at the ceiling, only shifting your gaze when you feel movement beside you. “Did you get any sleep?” Murphy yawns before pushing himself up onto his elbows.

You sigh, “not really.” With the knowledge that you are currently safe in Sanctum, you should be able to sleep, but your mind can’t stop wondering. “I can’t rest, not while we are here and he’s up there.”

“I know,” he says, kissing your forehead. Murphy sits fully upright and looks around the room. “Do you think they will give us another bed when Joaquin comes down, or do you think we’ll need to steal one from somewhere?”

You swat at his arm playfully, “I don’t think Simone would appreciate you joking about stealing.”

“Ok, okay,” he says, raising his hands. “But do you think they will give us another bed?”

Everyone had been assigned rooms above the tavern, although you weren’t sure how permanent they were. You look up at him, surprised by the question. “Probably, although I’m not sure if he’ll jump with delight at the chance of having his own bed or still want to sleep beside us.” You let out a low laugh, “This one time, I tried to let Joaquin sleep on his own bed in the bunker. He managed to sneak out while I was sleeping. I was so scared when I woke up and discovered he was gone. Luckily, Miller found him.”

Murphy rubs at his face, pretending that he’s just overtired, but you know he’s hurting and is trying to hide how much pain he’s in from you. You shake your head at him, your voice soft, “he loves you.”

“He doesn’t even know me.”

“But he still loves you, we both do,” you roll around and kiss his shoulder.

Murphy tucks your hair behind your ear and changes the subject to, “What are we doing today? I’m not in a naming day celebration mood.”

“I think Emroi is going to guard the ship. We should go with her.”

—

“I’m not sure about this,” you link your fingers with Murphy’s as you walk towards your tavern. “It just doesn’t feel right.”

“I know, but it’ll look like…” he quickly changes what he was going to say when he spots a figure walking towards you. “Hey, Delilah.”

She smiles at you both and says, “Now I’m not one for easy dropping, but I did hear a part of your conversation.”

Shit.

“You most definitely can’t wear that outfit to the party tonight, but not to worry, I have plenty of outfits you can borrow,” she says cheerfully.

“Oh you really don’t need to do that. That’s far too kind and your people have already done so much by letting us stay here.”

“Nonsense, besides Jordan has told me how kind you’ve been to him,” she explains. “He really wants you there, but I understand your people don’t have lots of clothes.”

You try to think of a reason not to, but your mind draws a blank. You and Murphy exchange a look before he smirks. “She’s all yours.”

Delilah smiles and links her arm with yours, leading you away from Murphy and towards her bedroom.

—

Your jaw hung open while you took in the sight of Delilah’s bedroom. “When I lived on the ark and read books with princesses in them, this is what I imagined their rooms looked like. I actually think the whole sanctum looks like something out of a fairytale.”

Delilah gave you a kind smile before sorting through different dresses. So far, none of them really suited you. She held up a pair of white sparkly heels, “Have you ever worn sage green before? I have a dress that will match these and you perfectly.”

You snort out a laugh, “I’ve never even worn heels before.”

“First time for everything!” She squeals excitedly.

—

You walked into the party alone and nervous. You knew Murphy would meet you here, but trying to find him inside the crowded room wouldn’t be as easy as you thought. Truthfully, you didn’t want to be at the party, but you didn’t want to seem disrespectful by not attending.

You mentally curse yourself for letting Delilah talk you into wearing heels, which were painful to walk in. Delilah was a sweet girl, and was so excited for you to dress up that you didn’t want to disappoint her.

You felt a good type of strange. It was the first time you’d felt good in a long time. The dress picked out for you was a light green, with a corset top that flowed into a lace skirt that stopped just at your ankles. She curled your hair and applied light make-up. She must have thought you were crazy when you looked in the mirror and your eyes teared up. You could never make her understand that the person in front of you is how you wanted your son to see you, and not as a murderer in war paint.

You spot Bellamy and Echo facing the other way and make your way towards them. You were about to make your presence known when you overheard them.

“If you’re going to tear yourself apart over leaving her, let’s go get her.”

“No, this isn’t me tearing myself apart, ok? This is me being human. I feel things when people I love are in trouble or die. The echo I knew on the ring did that. Why don’t you?”

“This isn’t about me,” Echo replied, with hurt in her voice.

You try to back away from them, not wanting to hear anymore of their private conversations, but the people around you don’t allow it.

“No? We lost Monty and Harper three days ago. How do you feel about that? Because I have no idea. I lost my sister yesterday. It’s going to take me a little while to feel nothing, like a good azgeda spy. But I’ll keep trying.”

You are in disbelief at how cold Bellamy was towards his girlfriend. As Echo holds her head up high and turns to walk away and spots you, it becomes harder for her to hold her tears back and remain strong.

“Are you okay?”

She nods and quickly walks away, disappearing into the sea of people. You turn back and meet Bellamy’s gaze. “You look beautiful,” he says, tracing his gaze over you.

You give him a harsh look and say, “What you just said to her was cruel.”

Bellamy looks down at the ground, his face racked with guilt. You’d never experienced first-hand being on the opposite end of his deep-cutting comments, but when Bellamy reached that point of frustration, he could be ruthless with his words. With or without meaning to.

“Have you seen anyone else here?” You ask, hoping to ease the tension.

“Just Clarke, but I think she left,” he stepped closer to you, so he didn’t need to yell over the loud music. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Do you remember when we first spoke when you got out of the bunkers? You told me to watch my back in case my sister threw me into the fighting pits. How did you know she would?”

Your body becomes warm and flushed as you think back to your time living in that hell hole. “Octavia threatened mine and my son's lives when he was still just a baby. She constantly threw me into the fighting pit,” you pause as your voice begins to shake. “I did terrible things to survive to make sure I could be around to raise my child because of her. Blodreina would have thrown anyone into the pits without thinking twice.”

He lets out a deep sigh and runs his fingers through his hair. “I shouldn’t have taken that out on Echo, but I just don’t know how to talk to her right now.”

“I can check on her for you.”

“Really?” He asks, “I guess.”

You shrug, “Why not? She means a lot to you and everyone else who was in space. I’d like to get to know her better.”

Bellamy gives you a soft smile and squeezes your arm, “Thank you... and congratulations on getting engaged.”

“How do you know about that?” your face twists in confusion.

“During the red sun, Murphy kept threatening Clarke for hurting his wife. It wasn’t hard to put the pieces together. I wish you guys all the best.”

“Thanks Bell.”

—

You'll find Echo drinking by herself in the tavern. “Hey,” you say as you take a seat across from her. “Bellamy was being a total jackass and taking it out on you. Please don’t let it get to you.”

“I do miss them,” she says tearfully. “Monty and Harper I may not show it, but I do.”

“I know.”

“He was right; I felt myself closing down again.”

You feel bad for her, seeing how upset she is. “You’ve been fighting to survive since the moment you stepped foot on earth.”

“I’ve been fighting to survive all my life,” she says, taking a shot of her drink before letting out a deep sigh. “I was eight when Queen Nia’s army took our land. My father resisted. They killed him while my mother hid with me in the cellar. If you cry, they'll hear you, she told me. So I didn't. The best way to get rats out of their holes is to start a fire. I remember the way it smelled. But...the smoke…” she let out a loud sob. “Her hair...when Nia heard what happened, she executed the men who did it, had me brought to Troy and started my training.”

You reach across the table for her hand, “I’m so sorry, Echo, that’s horrific. I don’t know what to say except that from now on, we look forward, not back.”

“I haven't even told Bellamy about that,” she wiped her nose and nodded. “He thinks I’m just a cold-hearted azgeda spy.”

“Well, you're not Azgeda anymore, just as I'm not Skaikru. We are all family now.”

—

“John!” You called out, seeing Murphy walking towards your assigned room. He unlocked the door and waited for you to reach him. “I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner. I started talking to Echo, then tried to find you but the party was pretty much over.”

He cut you off by pressing his lips against yours. “Danica, you look beautiful,” he slowly says, studying your face. “If your dress was any whiter, I’d marry you tonight.”

#the 100 #john murphy x reader #John Murphy x you #the 100 fanfiction #the 100 fandom #John Murphy #murphy the 100 #Bellamy Blake #Clarke Griffin #echo the 100 #echo kom spacekru #John Murphy/oc #john murphy/you #john murphy/reader

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pogueswrld · 2 years

Note

Could you please do “Hey, calm down. Calm down. You’re ok.” With reader comforting John Murphy after he has a nightmare? ❤️

I love this concept and I'm so sorry for the late reply!!

pairing: john murphy x gn!poc!reader

warning: retelling of Murphy's Law, john having vivid nightmares so nothing much 👍

note: this is so short and so ugly in sorry :/

The shadows of the night only seem to darken as the time ticked through the night, it felt like there were eyes all over the woods surrounding the pair and they were watching them like predators to a prey. y/n sat, their back against a giant tree as their eyes darted back and fourth between the tress. In their lap laid an unconscious John Murphy.

The week they've had has to be one of the worst either of them ever experienced throughout their short lives, it started with Murphy getting the crap beat out of him after Wells' death and then getting banned out of camp, then the two of them stuck together in these strange lands and ran away from grounders together, albeit they barely managed to escape their sharp spears and precise arrows, but they did it because they were together.

And honestly Murphy was beyond grateful.

He laid in their lap, getting angsty as image after image of him being strangled flashed before his eyelids, but this time he couldn't escape. He saw y/n in the crowd, grinning maniacally as he gasped for air, laughed at him as his vision turned dark. He jerked slightly in their lap as he relived that day over and over again, and then, when he thought he couldn't take it anymore, y/n was there again, with that same crazy smile and his knife in their hand. They slash at him, and John wakes up screaming.

He feels like he's drowning and he's trying to claw his way out of the waves only to get dragged further under. His throat is raw as his voice carries his screams across the darkness to reach whoever was near them. y/n panics and wrap their arms around his shoulders, bringing him forcefully closer to them as they try to shush them.

It takes a minute for John to sees that he is actually safe with y/n and not back at the camp, that he wasn't being dragged through the mud and hung on a tree, and as his mind calms, his screams dwell down to gasps of air.

y/n wrap their arms tightly around his shoulders, rocking both their bodies until they were sure he was calm, "Shh, it's okay, it's just a nightmare, you're okay."

His tears fill up with tears and a frustrated cry leaves his lips as he buries his head in y/n chest, sobs wrecking through his body and it breaks them thoroughly. Y/n can do nothing but hold him as he cries. "It's okay, you can breathe now John, you're okay."

"I- I'm sorry— I didn't mean to, I'm sorry—" he gasps through his sobs and y/n's eyes fill with tears as they hold him tighter, "Shh, calm down, calm down. You're okay, John, it's okay."

John chokes on his sobs to quieten as he pulls away from y/n, "we— we need to leave, before they come for us— for me." his words were interrupted with hiccups and gasps, and y/n never let go of his arm as they rub his back comfortingly, "Okay, we can go wherever you want. Just breathe, we'll be alright."

Maybe they won't be, but right now, as they held each other, it was them against the world. Right now, they will be okay.

#john murphy #john murphy x reader #john murphy x you #john murphy x y/n #poc reader #gn!reader #gn!poc!reader #gn reader

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pherelesytsia · 1 year

Text

Who did this to you? - 8

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x female/Reader

Summary: Bruised and broken, Y/N, trapped in a loveless marriage, arrives at her best friend's house, desperately hoping someone will help her, aware she cannot return to the estate of her husband.

Warning: fear, anxiety, Angst, swearing

Word Count: 2.3k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part6 Part 7 Part 9

The clouds wandered on, a lonely wanderer travelling across oceans and meadows, hills and rugged mountains painted in snow. White greyed, darkened and blackened, turned into pure doom, darker than black. The wind howled, screamed and screeched and the branches, crooked fingers, waltzed in all directions.

Silence blanketed the car driving down the path bordered by fields and trees, but it was not unpleasant, cruel, forcing nonsense to fall to shatter it. Shocked, Y/N noticed with widened eyes they had arrived at the open gates of the estate she called her home. At a rapid pace, the car drove on and on, past other parked cars and parked between them in different shades of the deep ocean. The motor wasn't roaring, turned off and the chanting of the birds sitting in one line on the lowest branch invaded the car smelling of alcohol, petrol and leather. The wind knocked on the automobile. Polly gulped, turned and rested her hand graced by a golden ring cautiously, almost shyly, on Y/N´s lap, but the shivering and shaking woman painted in blue and red, lightened by streaks of purple, did not flinch nor speak her mind. Carefully Polly´s fingers slid across Y/N´s calf and pulled the thick fabric higher to hide the exposed skin. Polly pronounced her name and pulled Y/N out of the dark and dreary thoughts, summoning goosebumps all over her flesh.

"Thomas is fine. He knows what he's doing. Nothing will happen to him." Polly assured calmly, guessing the reason for the fear in the widened eyes and sweaty palms.

Faintly Y/N smiled.

"I know, but I'm worried about him. About Poppy. There was blood, too much blood. I thought it was the new wallpaper she had told me about. They, she and her mother, redecorated the house. The pattern, it looked like flowers, large and smaller dots." she replied.

Exhaling, Y/N closed her eyes veiled by tears once fixed on the distance, watching the sun, the rays breaking through the travelling clouds heralding a day full of terror.

"I'm sure your friend is fine, too. Thomas will take care of her." the woman continued with a gentle, encouraging smile on her features, kissed by the orange rays.

Polly cleared her throat. The smile fainted, and the wrinkles deepened. She didn't need to search for the right words, had already pictured during the ride what she would say to Y/N if their paths should cross, but all Polly wanted to say had dissolved, had lost its meaning.

"We're home Y/N/N. Ada is waiting, but before we go inside, I want you to know that we are sorry. We have not been good to you, to put it nicely. Please forgive us and I speak on behalf of the whole family. John was the one who opened the door for your friend. After we realised what had happened, we were looking for you. I hope you will give us a second chance even if we don't deserve one. We will understand if you want to leave. We won't hate you for your decision." Polly continued and squeezed Y/N´s hand.

Y/N turned, ignoring the nearly unignorable pain trying to elicit a hiss from her, and turned to face Polly. She wanted to start a sentence; lips parted, but no tone escaped the sore throat. Y/N stared past Polly towards the door, flying back and forth in the fresh morning breeze. Ada ran towards the car as if chased by a ghost, had left the door wide open, ran on tiptoes and hissed and cursed like a witch as the stones dug deep into the soles of her reddening feet. The hem of the dress danced in the breeze. Gasping for air, Ada spread the large checked blanket, usually resting on the floor next to the sofa. The wind painted her cheeks vibrant red, lighter than her evening gown.

"Come, Y/N/N, we will protect you." Polly assured in a calm, slightly quivering voice, but Y/N heard no falseness, no lie in it.

Y/N could not utter a reply. The air, hinting of winter, invaded the car. The women shivered and balled the hands into fists. Ada hushed a greeting, spread the blanket, glanced at the wounds gracing Y/N´s body, down on the battered feet and the shivering limbs. The pain in her chest deepened at the sight of the shadow of a woman, read in her eyes what she had been through. The lip was chapped. The traces of a fight were evident on her cheek and throat. Ada tossed the blanket over her shoulder, noticing Y/N was covered in one. Wordlessly Ada helped Y/N out of the car. Soft curses blurred with whimpers. Whispering soothing words, Ada pulled Y/N away, closer to the house, kicking the door of the automobile shut and gesturing for Polly to pursue.

"I've prepared a bath for you. I'll help you upstairs. If you don't want to bathe, I can put a bucket of water next to the sofa. You can at least warm your feet." Ada said.

With every step, every slight movement Y/N made, the once brilliant white material slipped and revealed more wounds, swellings, and darkening spots not fading in the golden tide of the sun's rays, but grew even darker. Blue turned to green, lit by purple flashes and red veins carrying blue blood. Patiently Ada waited, and stared back at Polly, walking hastily after the women.

"Thank you. I think the bucket will do. Maybe I'll get in the tub later." Y/N replied meekly, as if speaking to her mother, fearing the answer would enrage her, but none of what she expected happened.

The chilly breeze blew through Y/N´s hair one last time. The door slammed shut, and the keys jingled, chanted a song that faded quickly. All doors were closed and locked. Curtains touched. The first aid box, not battered, holey neither with a worn handle nor dented corners, rested open on the table. Scissors, and spotless bandages lay next to bottles of high-proof alcohol, freshly washed not dried glasses, cigarettes and silver needles drowning in alcohol. Blankets covered the sofa, to which Ada led Y/N and a down pillow. The white porcelain bowl graced by blue vines and flowers was in the middle of the crowded table. Smoke rose from the cup, sweet lavender, and banished the unmistakable stench of blood and gore.

"May I offer you some soup?" the question was unnecessary, asked out of politeness.

Y/N turned into a tree, rooted deep into the ground, not moving. Her arms swayed forward. Questioningly, the two Shelby's exchanged glances, searching for the reason for the fear in Y/N´s eyes, unable to find it, but then, after a moment that seemed not to pass, Ada took a step forward, let go of Y/N, took the polished pistol and hid it under the table, still handy but out of Y/N´s sight. Polly placed her hands down on Y/N's shoulders, trying not to cause her any more pain, let the blanket slide to the floor and carefully pressed the young woman down on the sofa. Ada wriggled back towards them, took the blanket still hanging over her shoulder and laid it down on Y/N's legs, covering them, reached for the pair of fluffy socks, wiped away the dirt, small stones, dust and dried mud, and put the socks on Y/N´s feet.

"It's okay." Ada breathed before Y/N could protest.

Smiling, Ada looked up, wiped her hands on her long dress, picked up the bowl filled with soup and placed it carefully in Y/N's lap, handing her the silver spoon.

"Here, Y/N/N, eat. I'll fill you a bucket with warm water in the meantime. Polly will keep you company. If you need anything, if you feel sick, all you have to do is tell us and we will help you. You are still in shock." Ada said in a calm voice.

Gulping, Ada crouched next to Y/N.

"We should have taken you into our family. I am sorry, we are all very sorry. It's understandable that you don't want to see us, you have enough reasons to hate us. The only thing I can do is to promise that we will do better. If you need time, I have a friend. She owns a small cottage a few miles away from town. There is a pond and a small forest. It's lovely. I could arrange that you could spend a few days or weeks there." Ada continued.

Y/N merely nodded, unsure of what to say, not knowing how to respond, and kept on smiling. The two women watched Ada as she rose from the ground like a phoenix from the ashes and strode away. Polly leaned closer to Y/N, tidied the blanket and hinted that she should eat, that it would do her good. A soft thanks escaped Y/N, smiled at the women who wordlessly indicated that she should finally start eating and so Y/N did, dipping the silver cutlery into the depths of the bowl whose end she could not see, watching the thinly chopped vegetables slip from the spoon and as the warm liquid flowed down her throat, Y/N realised how hungry she was and ate greedily.

Time had lost its meaning. Y/N had emptied the contents of the bowl. The last piece of sliced carrots had disappeared, yet she did not place it on the table, continued to warm her fingers on the ceramic bowl.

Heels clicked against the dark wood, had put shoes a hue darker than the evening dress. Cautiously, Ada continued walking with her eyes fixed on the troubled waters, fearing the warm liquid was about to spill over the golden rim. A towel, white with a few washed-out stains, hung over her right shoulder, the towel she always used when a brother standing on the edge of the world was carried inside the house. The floorboards groaned, and Ada stopped and noticed Y/N had finished the soup she had cooked for her.

Out of the corner of her eye Polly noticed how Y/N´s eyes were growing heavy and she leaned forward, took the bowl and placed it on the table. The young woman wanted to protest as Polly told her to rest, to say that she had to stay awake, that she wanted to wait for the return of the brothers and her husband.

"No, Y/N, lay down. You can stay with us or you can go to the bedroom. We will keep watch and if you need anything, you can call us.", "Polly, we should take care of Y/N's wounds first." Ada interjected.

"That won't be necessary. That can wait. Alfie has taken care of her wounds it's just dirt and scratches. The wounds are not life threatening. Y/N rest, close your eyes. I promise I will wake you up if Thomas is home." she replied.

Carefully Polly pushed Y/N backwards. Her heavy, throbbing head sunk into the pillow. Closing her eyes, Y/N sighed in relief, exhaled as the blanket fell down on her body. Birds chirped, the howling ceased and lulled her to sleep.

Polly leaned forward happily and noticed Y/N had fallen asleep.

"Thomas told me that Alfie has taken care of Y/N. No deep wounds or else I would have taken her to the hospital. We can take care of it later." Polly reported.

Ada rose, set the bowl aside on the table, sighed deeply, nodded, listened to the woman and turned to the fireplace, the blazing flames feasting on the wood and fed by the howling air hinting of winter.

"She was beaten up. I didn't see any bullet wounds. Did Thomas tell you what happened or who is to blame?", "He has a guess, but he couldn't tell me anything specific. It all happened too fast. The gang has Y/N's girlfriend in their grip. At least that's what he thinks. The house was trashed, destroyed, and I think I saw bloodstains on the floor." she breathed softly.

Her eyes kept sliding to the slumbering figure, kept glancing at her right side and noticing with relief that Y/N was still asleep, her eyelids neither twitching nor her lips twisting into a pained grimace.

"Alfie's going to show up any minute. Thomas called him. He fears someone might pay us a visit." Polly whispered in Ada's direction.

Ada perked up, grinned, felt the weight of her weapon at her side, settled down in front of the blazing flames, gnawing on wood and fed by air on the armchair, threw the pillow to the floor on her side and crossed her arms in front of her body.

“We don’t need someone to protect us.” Ada stopped.

A soft knock silenced Ada. The women exchanged glances. The rustling, and shuffling of shoes and feet, softly uttered words, the closing of the door and the jingling of keys followed by low grumbles couldn’t awake Y/N from her deep slumber, lying on the sofa, a princess in the shadow of the vigilant dragons.

TagList:

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narcissisticmf · 8 months

Text

persistence | bellamy blake x gn!reader

description: training with bellamy.

trigger warnings: some seductive behavior, gun usage, fluff, etc. read at your own risk.

word count: <1k

Holding the shot gun close against your right shoulder, you aimed it towards the wooden target outside. You'd been the only one training that afternoon, everyone else was at lunch. You closed your left eye and tried your best to hit the center of the target. You pulled the trigger and missed it, the bullet drove through the wood several inches away from the center.

You released a grunt and tossed the gun against the grass and dirt, frustratedly. You kicked a rock that was by your feet as you clenched your jaw. Placing your hands against your hips, you stood still for a moment, staring at the target for a while; as if it would give you the answer as to how to shoot the center of it.

"It's really not that complicated," Bellamy's voice was heard from behind you.

You parted your lips and released a soft breath, uninterested in his instruction. "I almost had it," You avoided eye contact and reached down to lift up the shot gun, holding it tightly against your shoulder again.

Bellamy stood behind you, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched you for a moment. His eyes squinted subtly due to the brightness of the sun.

You pulled the trigger and missed by a hair again. You sighed, quietly.

"Hold it up again," Bellamy instructed, walking towards you.

"I don't need your help," You replied, looking back to him.

"Just hold it," He said, not phased by your attitude. You looked ahead at the target and held up the gun again. Bellamy's hands slowly moved around to your arms to fix their position. You could feel his breath fanning against your neck. The closeness caused a lump to develop in your throat, unable to speak.

"Yeah.." Bellamy cleared his throat and stepped back, awkwardly. "Like that," He nodded.

You felt your grip against the gun loosen from the sweat that produced in the palms of your hands. Swallowing thickly, you pulled yourself back into focus and closed your left eye again. Bellamy stood at your side and watched as you pulled the trigger.

The bullet swiftly moved through the red painted dot against the wood carved into a circle. You smiled widely as you stared at the hole in the middle of the target.

"I did it!" You laughed, almost baffled that you were capable of doing it. You turned to see Bellamy and he was smiling at you. That was something he didn't always do often, but when he did it was beautiful.

"I told you it wasn't that complicated," He smiled. "It's all in how you hold it."

"Thanks, Bellamy," You grinned.

He simply nodded with a smile to his lips.

a/n: hi, darlings!! so i just started watching the 100 and it's honestly so good! i hope that i captured bellamy's character well here and if i didn't, i'm sorry 😭 i'm still learning his character! love you guys mwah! — angelina

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call-sign-shark · 1 year

Text

Heaven In Your Eyes || Masterlist

Pairing: Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC (Heaven Lavey Shelby)

Additional content/Info: CLICK HERE

Fic Summary: He meets her at church one dreary night, guided by her singing. Her name? Heaven Lavey. White ivory hair, fair porcelain skin, and petite shape, this almost ethereal creature is Arthur's strict opposite. Yet, all it took was one dive into her heavenly eyes for him to be convinced God has sent His sweetest angel to save his bastard soul. The two lovebirds, obsessed with each other, are determined to live their love no matter people's judgments and no matter the dangers of a Peaky Blinder's life. They are together through the best and through the worst.

But behind her holy appearance and sweet facade, Heaven Lavey is dangerous. With rumors of witchcraft and murder, her shady past weighs on her shoulders. And if she is a blessing for Arthur Shelby, she will soon prove to be a curse for those who dare to stand in her and her husband's way. Even Thomas Shelby himself.

She is Arthur’s Angel, but don't get fooled by her doe eyes: for the rest of us, she is the White Devil.

And by extend, you are too.

Why? Because Heaven Lavey… It’s you.

TW: Major character death, explicit sexual content, canonical violence, graphic description of violence, blasphemy, witch trials and burning of innocent women, dependent relationship (if Arthur and Heaven are happy in their relationship, they are obsessed and possessive, which leads to bursts of violence and deifying from Arthur. By no means I am claiming their relationship is healthy, but it is what works for them)

ACT I.

♢ Ch. 1 || Heaven in Your Eyes

♢ Ch. 2 || Never Did, Never Dared

♢ Ch. 3 || Something Wicked This Way Comes 🔞

♢ Ch. 4 || Dead Bird at Witchin Hour

♢ Ch. 5 || The Hell in His Eyes

♢ Ch. 6 || The One They Should Have Burned

♢ Ch. 7 || Of Matches and Gasoline 🔞

♢ Ch. 8 || Tango on Broken Dreams

ACT II.

♢ Ch. 9 || For Whom the Bells Toll

♢ Ch. 10 || Closer to Heaven or Closer to Hell? 🔞

♢ Ch. 11 || When The Bridges Burn

♢ Ch. 12 || As They Always Did

♢ Ch. 13 || Cross My Heart and Hope to Die

♢ Ch. 14 || Pure As a Lamb 🔞

♢ Ch. 15 || Women Like Me in a Men's World

♢ Ch. 16 || Après Moi le Déluge ( c o m i n g . . .)

♢ Ch. 17 || ( Il Diàvulu Biancu)

♢ Ch. 18 ||

ACT III.

♢ Ch. 18 ||

♢ Ch. 19 ||

♢ Ch. 20 ||

♢ Ch. 21 ||

♢ Ch. 22 ||

♢ Ch. 23 ||

♢ Ch. 24 ||

♢ Ch. 25 ||

♢ The series can be longer.

Some events from the show are taken and obviously reworked. Yet, except for a few quotes and scenes, everything else is imagined by the author.

Related works - in chronological order-

♢ From Blood We Will Grow

♢ To Bark and Bite

♢ Kaiser Meeting Cyril (requested)

♢ A Bone to Pick With It (requested)

♢ Perfect Lines

♢ Savage Daughter

♢ A Slice of Us (Modern!HYE)

♢ Love Ritual (@zablife's celebration)

♢ The Woods Whisper 1, 2 (Halloween Horror)

♢Little Lamb 1, 2, 3 (Yandere!AU)

Moodboards and other content

♢ Playlist

♢ Moodboard Aesthetic

♢ Moodboard Chapter 6

♢Heaven In your Eyes Act II trailer

♢ Moodboard Chapter 12

♢ Heaven in your Eyes chapter 16 trailer

Looking for more? Check out Heaven's masterlist I and II.

Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @zablife @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996 @vanhelsingsbigtoe @cherubswhispers @he6rtshaker @bemyqueenofdarkness @cljordan-imperium @cjarbo @red-riding-wood @rysko

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maysileeewrites · 6 months

Text

a helping hand - John Murphy x Reader || teaser

AN: this is just a teaser, I’ll link the full imagine (that will be set during 1x10) here once I’ll upload it. I know that people probably won’t care about Murphy x reader in 2023, but please lmk what you think, it would really mean a lot!! 🤍

„Can you even see anything like that?“, Murphy says, interrupting your thought process, and suddenly he’s reaching out with one hand, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

You swallow, trying desperately not to show how much that one little touch affected you. But your heart is thundering so loudly in your chest that you’re convinced that he’s able to hear it.

Especially once you can no longer pretend to re-inspect the cuts on his face yet again - you really need to take a look at the wounds on his chest.

As if reading your thoughts, Murphy just smirks, before taking off his shirt. Just when’s almost free of his shirt, he hisses, his face screwing up in pain.

„Let me“, you say, helping him.

For a moment, you just stare at each other breathlessly.

Then, so quietly that you’re not quite sure whether you’ve imagined it, he says: „Thank you.“

#john murphy x reader #john murphy #john mother fucking murphy #john murphy imagine #john murphy x you #john murphy the 100 #the 100 imagine #the 100 #the 100 tv #richard harmon #maysileewrites

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red-write-hand · 6 months

Text

Modern!Tommy headcanons

(this could just be my thoughts splat onto a page but have fun! also no beta read we die like tommy's sexuality the moment he saw alfie solomons)

If that man could take his computer to bed with him, he would

He runs on cigarettes and coffee

I feel like he would totally have those machines that are super intricate about making coffee

Usually an apple loyalist but buys add-ons from others (think headphones, charging cables, other Bluetooth items)

Listens to The Neighborhood, Drake, Hozier, Eminem, The Rolling Stones, The Beatles, Kendrick Lamar, Bastille

Exclusively buys from Boss, started as a joke with his brothers but then he realized he really likes the suits he bought

Owns a bunch of clubs and knows about the best clubs to go to if you want a good time

Likes to eat expensive food but will never turn down Italian take out at horrible hours of the night

Absolutely owns a pair of those Bluetooth Raybans that play music discreetly

Favorite movies are the Tobey Maguire Spidermans, Star Wars (only the New Hope, Empire Strikes Back, Return of the Jedi, Revenge of the Sith, and Rise of Skywalker)

Has better figured out his own mental health and sexuality

this👏man👏is👏bisexual👏 (it radiates off him, takes one to know one)

since it is more widely accepted, he feels a little better about it

he absolutely had his first bi panic when he would banter with Freddie

that and EVERY interaction with Alfie

alfie bought him a tiny pride flag which he keeps in his desk, right next to his incredibly expensive alcohol ~x fem!Reader headcanons (m! in part 2)~ warnings: kinda unethical office workplace relationship?

its become a joke of sorts about being tommy's secretary around his family

this all stemmed from him taking an interest in you when you applied

you really were gorgeous to him

you're the only person he is slightly comfortable around besides the Blinders or his own family

the longer you work with him, the more comfortable he gets

after awhile, he (politely, our boy is respectful) asks you to call him Tommy instead of 'Mr. Shelby'

he is one of the most sought after men in the city which makes him very alluring to most

you don't super see it, he's always been very "normal" around, not the silver tongued devil most people knew him as

it wasn't that you didn't like him, you really did, his gorgeous frame, his perfect eyes, his slender fingers, his dark hair, everything was amazing except for the fact that he never really showed any interest in you, to him (you thought), you were his secretary, nothing more

oh how wrong you were

this all changes one late night, him still tirelessly working and you still there making sure that he doesn't stay there all night

it doesn't take much for him to just keep running on fumes so it usually falls upon you to remind him what god awful hour it is

you gently crack open the door and poke your head in

"Hey, Tommy, it's almost 1, pack it up and get some actual sleep."

He rolled his neck and closed his computer, just before packing everything up, he stops

"Cmon 'ere"

It was simple and you knew what could happen if something were to go down but you could find a new job if you had to

The Shelby building was quiet and the only office with any lights on was his

You leaned on the side of his desk and he opens the big drawer at the bottom

He procures the bottle of probably very expensive alcohol and starts pouring you one

"Why do you stay so late? Making sure I go home isn't in your contract."

You thought about it, it had become such a part of your daily cycle

"I guess I've just gotten used to it. Seemed like the right things to do after awhile."

He thanks you quietly and hands your glass of the whiskey he had poured

This was the softest you had ever seen him, you decided to capitalize off of it

"I've never understood it, why are you so comfortable with me Tommy?"

He nods slowly, knowing he would have to explain himself soon

"Polly says I don't 'ave my head straight yet, so my answer won't do you much good."

You, of course, weren't satisfied with that answer so you decided to play a hunch

By this hour of the night, his hair was rather disheveled so you tentatively ran your finger through it, fixing it for him

a small smirk bloomed on your lips when his expression seemed to soften more

This sort of tension was now a pattern for the two of you

The tension got to such a height that after awhile, late at night, he would just pull you into his lap and have his hand wrapped around your waist

You like to run your hands through his hair or trace his jaw with your fingertip

this is just how it is for the two of you and both of you like that <3

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crowleying · 1 year

Text

My policeman | m!reader

Date: 06.12.2022

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x m!reader

Reader’s pronouns: he/him

Words: 4.840

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Characters: m!reader, Tommy Shelby, Polly Gray, Ada Shelby, John Shelby, Arthur Shelby, Esme Shelby, Harry Fenton, others

Genre: Romance

Length: Oneshot

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending

Requested: No

Prompts: No

Summary: Tommy Shelby is suddenly very interested in you and you have no idea why.

A/N: English is not my first language, so feel free to correct any mistake, and I would love to know what you think about it. If you like my works, please like and reblog them. REQUESTS ARE OPEN. I posted a List of prompts, so check it out! Let me know if you would like to be tagged in my works.

IF YOU LIKE MY WORKS, PLEASE REBLOG THEM

Masterlist

Ao3

You were on patrol around the city with one of your colleagues. You knew he was on the Peaky Blinders' payroll but, after all, only a handful of policemen weren't. You were one of them. It was confusing to most people in Small Heath, mainly because they knew you were John Shelby's best friend. He had offered you money to give them information and turn a blind eye to their affairs as they did with everyone, but you had made it clear that you couldn't be bought. He had respected that. The balance was fragile. The whole deal was based on your friendship. You had been able to refuse the money without losing your job because you were friends and people respected you because of your bond to the most powerful family in Birmingham, and a little because you did your job and wouldn't hesitate to throw people in jail if needed. You didn't pretend not to see what happened around you. Not even if the Peaky Blinders were involved. However, being friends with John also prevented you from trying to tear the whole business down. Everyone had learnt it pretty soon, so they had just started doing their things when you weren't on patrol, which meant your rounds were always quiet. You didn't complain. You didn't like arresting people, especially if they were Blinders.

That day seemed to be especially quiet. Well, as quiet as Small Heath could be. Your eyes observed the people going on about their lives around you while you chatted with your colleague. Many people greeted you, and you smiled back.

You turned to your partner, your eyes wide and a big smile on your face. "What?! No way. What is this, your... seventh?"

"Yeah," he replied smiling proudly under his thick moustache. "Four girls and two boys. I'm rooting for another boy."

"Congrats!" You patted his back, but you saw his face change, suddenly becoming serious.

He looked up and touched his cap, tilting his head down. "Morning, Mr Shelby."

You turned and saw Thomas Shelby on one of his horses, riding down the road. You nodded towards him as a form of greeting but didn't touch your cap or wish him a good day.

He nodded back at you, and you felt his icy blue eyes pierce through you. It wasn't anything new. You felt that way every time he looked at you and you wondered if everyone could feel it when they were under his gaze as if he could see everything that was inside. It felt as if God was scrutinizing you. You did understand why John called him Tommy the Almighty.

Even as he passed by you, you could still feel his eyes burn holes in you. You kept walking but turned to look at him and saw he was already looking. You turned back to the front.

"I don't know how you can refuse their offer. By the way he was looking at you, he really wants you on his payroll."

When you walked into the Garrison that night and asked Harry for a glass of whiskey, he refused your money and said it had already been paid for, then nodded towards the private room next to the counter.

"Yeah, well, John knows it won't happen." You shrugged, but the feeling of his eyes on you lingered and stayed with you for the rest of the day.

"Mr Shelby wishes to speak with you."

You rolled your eyes at the formality John liked to mess with when you were involved and grabbed your glass heading to the room.

"Come on, John, how many tim-" you started as you opened the door only to stop mid-sentence when you met Tommy's icy gaze instead of John's warm and playful one. "Thomas."

He was smoking alone, a glass of whiskey in front of him.

He beckoned you with a motion of his fingers. "Close the door and take a sit."

Your eyebrows raised, unimpressed by how he was treating you like one of his men. Maybe he had forgotten you didn't work for him.

"If you want to buy me, Thomas, you can save it. I'm not on sale," you said without doing any of the things he had asked of you.

He observed you for a few long seconds as if trying to read you. Then he sighed, tearing his gaze away from you and knocking the ash of his cigarette into the ashtray. "That's not why I wanted to talk to you."

When you still didn't move, he turned towards you again. "I promise. Please, come sit with me."

You hid your surprise at hearing him saying the word "please." You didn't think he even knew how to pronounce it for lack of use. You closed the door behind you and took a sit on the other side of the table from him.

You rolled the whiskey in your glass waiting for him to speak. "What did you want to talk about?" you asked when he didn't.

He offered you a cigarette but you refused. You didn't trust him outside family gatherings and that wasn't a social call.

"I would like to invite you to dinner."

You frowned. You had already been to dinner at the Shelbys plenty of times and not once had Thomas himself been the one to invite you. "Uhm... sure, tell Polly to count me in."

"I mean with me."

His reply startled a laugh out of you. "I never thought you were one for pranks. Thought you left that to Johnny."

He stared at you, his expression unchanged. There was no trace of a smile on his face. "I'm serious."

You looked back at him with a newfound seriousness and slammed your glass on the table, spilling some of its content. "I really hope not."

It was your turn to observe him, trying to understand what his real intentions were. "What do you really want from me, Thomas?"

"I want to take you out for dinner."

You snorted. "You think I'm a fool?"

"No," he let out much lower than his usual tone.

"You can't buy me so you're trying to get me arrested. That's too low even for you."

He shook his head. "That's not-"

"Save your bullshit," you interrupted getting up. You leaned forward pointing a finger at him. "You try this shit again and I'll get you arrested."

You were smoking with John by the cut like you did when you were fifteen. You loved the fact that your friendship hadn't changed all that much, not after you had been to war together, nor when you had decided to join the police. With John, it had always been easy. No judgement, just two boys having fun and doing what they had to live in such a hard world.

Then you walked out.

"So, new girls?" he joked.

You looked at him unimpressed, before looking back in front of you.

John was the only person who knew you didn't like girls. You had found out thanks to him. When you were young, you had experimented with each other. There had been some kisses and a couple of hand jobs. He had soon understood he wasn't into men, but he had never judged you. To these days he still joked about it and you had never really minded until Thomas had asked you out.

"Did you tell him?"

He abruptly turned to look at you. "You know I would never."

"Then how the fuck did he know, John?" you asked, throwing your unfinished cigarette into the cut, clearly upset.

"Tommy, he always seems to know shit," he said slowly, playing with his cap and looking down at it in his lap. He looked at you. "But he means good. He isn't trying to fuck you up."

You snorted. You trusted John and you were sure he believed what he was saying, but Thomas was cunning and he could have people believe anything he wanted. Maybe he had tricked his own brother into believing he really was interested in you, knowing he would have put a good word in for him.

"Are you still coming to dinner tomorrow though?"

You had been a guest of the Shelbys every Saturday for dinner for as long as you could remember.

"Will he be there?"

"Probably."

You groaned.

"Come on. You won't even have to talk to him. How many times have you two talked at dinner?"

You frowned. "Probably more than you would expect."

Now that you thought of it, Tommy had always found a way to exchange a few words with you after dinner about the most random topics. You had always enjoyed those moments. Talking with him was nice. He didn't smile a lot, not like before the war, but he had always been kind to you. You had always thought he did that just for John's sake, so you had never considered him a friend or anything. In addition to that, the huge crush you had had on him had made it hard to be as comfortable with him as you were with the rest of the family. You had completely overcome that now, though. Still, the awkwardness was hard to shake off.

John bumped his shoulders into yours, bringing you back to the present. "The kids will be a pain if you don't come."

You rolled your eyes. "Fine."

When you stepped into the Shelbys' household the following evening, you got surrounded by John's kids. They either hugged you, pulled you somewhere, or screamed at you about their day. You loved them, but they could be a lot. Finally, Ada came to save you, and you smiled gratefully at her. She hugged you and invited you to follow her to the kitchen where all the others were. Tommy was missing, and you felt relief flooding you. You hadn't even finished greeting everyone when the front door opened. Little Finn ran to welcome the newcomer. You held your breath and your eyes found John's on the other side of the room. He looked guilty. You frowned, but before you could take him aside to ask what he had done, Tommy walked into the kitchen with Finn in his arms. When you turned towards him, he was already looking at you and you couldn't bring yourself to utter a word in greeting. Your lips stayed still.

John grinned triumphantly.

"Let's sit and eat," Polly said, setting the pot in the centre of the table.

While she served, everyone took a seat, and somehow you found yourself next to Tommy. John had taken the seat that was usually reserved for you and you had to take his. Now you understood the look you had seen in his eyes earlier. You would punch him later.

"Not exactly what I had in mind, but it's something." Tommy's murmur was drowned by the others chatting and you would have missed it too if you hadn't been so close to him.

You pretended you hadn't heard and instead thanked Polly for filling your plate.

For the whole dinner, you did everything you could to forget Thomas was there. You chatted with everyone, complimented Polly for her cooking, asked Esme how she could be so patient with all those troublemakers around, glared at John multiple times, joked with the kids, even taking one of them on your lap when he wanted to show you the small gap in his smile left by the tooth he had lost a couple of days earlier.

Tommy stayed silent for the most part, as usual. He commented on a thing here or there and messed with the kids for a little fun. You could always feel his gaze on you. His eyes might have been the colour of ice, but sure as hell, you could feel them burn on your skin. He saw to it so that your glass was never empty, and even if you remembered distinctly rejecting him that day at the Garrison, it seemed like he hadn't gotten the memo, although he had probably just decided to ignore it because Tommy Shelby only ever played by his rules.

After dinner, the children went off somewhere to play while Polly and Esme washed the dishes. Ada had excused herself saying she was tired and she would go to bed early, but you were pretty sure she would climb out of the window to go see Freddy. Arthur took out a bottle of rum and filled four glasses.

"I should go, actually," you announced, getting up.

"No way!"

"Oh come on, you can stay for a nightcap."

John, who was now sitting next to you, pulled on your arm and you sat back down with a sigh. Arthur grinned and a small, pleased smile appeared on Tommy's face. You wanted to slap it away. Instead, you glared at him and grabbed his cigarette case to take one in retaliation. It only caused his smile to grow.

You put the cigarette between your lips and scowled at him when he leaned in touching the end of your cigarette with his to light it up. You hated how your heart skipped a beat and blood rushed to your cheeks. You inhaled and pulled back quickly, missing the looks Arthur and John had exchanged seconds earlier.

You exhaled the smoke and quickly downed your glass, making John snort. You pushed the glass towards Arthur, silently asking for a refill. He chuckled and shook his head but poured you another glass. Tommy was looking at the whole thing with an amused glint in his eyes. Once again you did your best to ignore him.

"Seeing a girl tonight? Is that why you're in a hurry?" Arthur teased.

You felt Tommy tense next to you, but you couldn't be sure and you didn't dare turn to look at him, not wanting to give yourself away.

You waved a hand. "I'm leaving them all to you, Arthur."

That made him laugh. "That's wise."

"You should have it easy now that Johnny is taken," you commented. Then you turned towards Tommy. "What about you, Thomas? I bet you have all the girls falling for you. What is it? Nobody is good enough for the great Thomas Shelby?" you teased.

"You're the only person who calls him that," John commented amusedly.

"And aunt Pol when she's angry," Arthur added.

Tommy stared at you seriously.

When you had given up on waiting for a reply and went to take a sip of your rum, Tommy finally spoke. "I already have my eyes on someone," he said quietly.

You choked on the rum and coughed. John patted your back. "You alright?"

You nodded and pulled at the collar of your shirt, although it didn't really do anything to help your situation. You did your best to compose yourself while Tommy tried to hide a small amused smile behind his cigarette.

"So, who's the lucky girl?" you asked when you finally managed to breathe again.

Arthur's boisterous laugh filled the room. "That would be some change."

Tommy paid him no mind and kept his glacial eyes on you. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Both his reply and Arthur's comment confused you. Before you could inquire further, you heard John's glass clink on the table, soon followed by Arthur's. Your eyes snapped to them as they got up.

"We're headin' to the Garrison. Are you coming?" Arthur asked.

"Uh... no. I should really go. I have work tomorrow."

John patted your back. "See you tomorrow?"

You nodded and they left. The last conversation had made you forget about John's guilty look at the beginning of the night.

You suddenly realized they had left you alone with Tommy. You cleared your throat and put out your cigarette into the ashtray, then downed the rest of your rum.

"I should really go."

You got up, but so did Tommy. He killed his cigarette. "I'll show you to the door."

You nodded stiffly and walked to the door. When you stopped at the hanger to get your coat, you found him closer than expected and your heart picked up.

"You like horses, don't you?" he asked, putting his hands in his pockets. You hated how cool he was about everything.

You nodded.

"You should come to the races once."

"Have you forgotten I go there for work sometimes?"

"Not for work."

Not again.

"It's not something I enjoy watching," you said shortly, then opened the door, anxious to leave that hallway that had never looked so small in your whole life.

"You might change your mind."

"I don't think I will," you insisted dryly, looking at him in the eyes, hoping he would get the message that you were talking about the whole situation.

You were doing everything you could to avoid Tommy, and it was not working. On the contrary, he was everywhere. He would pass by your house every time you were leaving for work and he would offer to walk or drive you there. You refused every time. You would meet him as you were walking by the cut. You would see him at a pub he had never frequented before. You even saw him at the market a couple of times. When you saw him in church you thought you were hallucinating. It seemed like the universe was working against you, but it was only Tommy Shelby, and maybe his family.

You opened the door and he held it open for you. "It's not a no."

You were surprised to find a little box on your desk at work on Monday. You looked around to see if any of your colleagues had noticed anything. They seemed to be minding their business as usual. You returned your attention to the box and opened it. A precious pocket watch was laid there, with a piece of paper. You picked up the note. You didn't recognize the handwriting. It read "counting the seconds to the moment you'll accept my offer."

John always found a way to mention him. He had never talked about Tommy as much as he had in the last few weeks. You pretended not to notice. You hoped Tommy would just give up at some point. How wrong you were.

You crushed the note in your fist and rolled your eyes, closing the box vehemently and shoving it in the only drawer in your desk that had a key. You locked it up. You thought you would deal with that later, but it was a busy day and you forgot until the next morning when something else was waiting for you on your desk.

It was your favourite book from when you were a kid. It was about horses. They were your favourite animals and obviously, Tommy somehow knew. You opened it and on the first page, with the same handwriting from yesterday's note, there was written "I think you'd really like to meet my horses. Think about it."

That evening you went to the Shelbys, hoping to find Tommy and give him back his presents. When Ada opened the door, you walked past her hastily.

You heard one of your colleagues calling you, so you quickly closed the book and threw it into the drawer where you had left the watch.

"Where is Thomas?" you asked looking for him around the house, startling the others, confused by your manners so out of character.

"He isn't back yet," Ada said, closing the door to follow you into the kitchen.

You let yourself fall down into a chair with a groan and discarded your hat on the table.

"Hello to you too," Polly piped up.

"Hi Pol, I'm sorry, but your nephew is trying to ruin me."

"Tommy?" Esme asked frowning. She wasn't a fan of him, but she was quite sure he would never do anything to ruin you.

"What are you talking about?" Polly asked taking a seat next to you.

"He is just being over dramatic." John waved a hand. You glared at him.

"Let him talk." Ada slapped his arm, making him roll his eyes. "What did Tommy do?"

You suddenly sobered up. You couldn't tell them. They wouldn't approve. You shook your head and got up. "It's nothing. I should just talk to him. I'm sure we can fix this."

"Where are you going? Stay for dinner." Polly stopped you gently.

Before you could refuse and leave, someone knocked.

Ada went to open the door.

"Hello, Ada." Thomas.

Ada was already telling him you were there looking for him when you walked up to him, hat in hand. He smiled smugly at you.

"Thought you would last longer," he commented.

You just looked at him as if you wanted to kill him.

Ada's eyes moved between the two of you.

"Would you mind leaving us, Ada?" Tommy asked, without taking his eyes away from you.

She rolled her eyes but did as she had been asked.

Once she was gone, you pulled the gifts out of your coat and shoved them into Tommy's chest. "You can take these back and leave me alone."

His hand raised slowly to take a hold of the items and he glanced down at them. "You didn't like them?"

"That's not the point. Stop fucking trying to ruin me. If I'm such a huge problem for you, why don't you pay my superior to transfer me somewhere else? Do you really hate me so much just because I'm not on your fucking payroll?"

He shook his head. "I'm not trying to ruin you."

"Really? Because sending me gifts at work tells me otherwise."

"I really am into you."

You scoffed. "Sure."

"What do I have to do to make you believe me?" his voice, quiet as usual, seemed to fill the entire house. Only then you realized the chatter that previously came from the kitchen had stopped. You glanced that way, then looked back at Tommy.

You lowered your voice. "If you care for me, stop this."

For the first time since you knew him, Tommy looked like he didn't know what to say.

You didn't wait for a reply. You just headed to the door, stopping in your tracks when Polly's voice came from the kitchen. "You're not staying for dinner?"

It was clear the others had listened in on your conversation.

You sighed. "Maybe next time."

You opened the door and stepped outside, putting your hat on.

Polly's interjection had given Tommy enough time to come up with something to say.

"Just give me one chance," he said quickly before you could leave. "We can go out of the city with the horses tomorrow afternoon. Nobody will see us. If after that you still want me to leave you alone, I will."

You turned to look at him and you hated yourself for being so weak.

The following day was nerve-wracking. No matter how you tried to distract yourself, you couldn't stop thinking about the date. The anxiety was eating at you. Part of you didn't want that afternoon to arrive, and another part was looking forward to it.

"One chance. Then you will leave me alone."

Time would not stop flowing for your sake, and soon you were making your way to meet with him out of the city. You asked the driver to drop you off way before the meeting point and walked the rest of the way.

Tommy was waiting for you with two horses. He smiled when he saw you, and you didn't know if it was knowing that this was the last chance you had given him or if that was actually the most genuine and happiest smile you had ever seen on his lips.

You smiled back. It was a very different smile from his. It was small and it had a hint of sadness to it. You wished this was real, but you couldn't bring yourself to believe it.

Without a word you got on the horses and guided them through the countryside. Sometimes Tommy would stop to show you something. He told you about his love for the countryside and that he would love to live there one day. He liked the idea of being surrounded by green fields and animals, especially horses, a passion the two of you shared. When you asked why he was so in love with the countryside, he explained that it made him feel closer to his mother. That was where her people lived and where she had grown up.

You hadn't realized, but at some point, you had relaxed. You and Tommy talked, joked, laughed and raced each other. Before you noticed the sun was setting. Tommy suggested you stopped to enjoy the view before heading back.

You got off the horses and sat down on the grass. You stayed silent for a while, simply admiring the colours of the sky. When you turned to look at Tommy, he was already watching you. You stared at each other for a few long moments before he cleared his voice and looked away.

"What's the verdict, then?" he finally asked, not looking at you.

"I had a good time with you," you admitted easily.

"But?"

"Is this really what you want? This life is... not great. So if you ever liked a girl in your life I suggest you go back to her and give it one more try."

"It's always been you and I know you are scared, but I sincerely don't give a fuck if you are a policeman or if you aren't on my payroll. We made arrangements to do our things when you're not on patrol just so you wouldn't have to arrest any of us. It wasn't much trouble. You are important to me, to all of us. I would never do anything to hurt you."

Your brain had gotten stuck on the first few words. "Always?"

"What?"

"You said it's always been me."

"Yes."

"Then why now?"

"Because I found out only recently that you like boys."

You frowned. "How did you find out?"

"I saw you with a man one night, in the alley behind the Garrison," he admitted.

"Oh... Right. So John didn't tell you."

"No, not a word. He would rather cut his own arm off than betray you."

"I know," you replied relaxing.

"But you thought he had told me."

"Maybe he had mentioned when he was drunk." You shrugged.

"I promise he didn't."

You nodded.

"I've had a crush on you for a while too," you said, still looking at him. You had long forgotten about the sunset. How could you look at something as trivial as the sun when you had Tommy Shelby right beside you?

"Yes?" he asked, hopeful.

You smiled and nodded. "It's impossible not falling for you."

He leaned closer but stopped a few inches away from your face. "I really want to kiss you right now."

"Fucking finally Tommy, dinner was getting cold," Polly's voice came from the kitchen as you followed him inside the house that night.

"What are you waiting for, then?" was all that came out of your lips before they met his.

"Sorry Pol," he replied taking little Finn in his arms and putting his cap on his youngest brother.

He reached for your hand with his free one after you had hung your coat. You took it, although nervously. He had assured you that his whole family knew about him and that they would accept you but after a lifetime of being careful about everything you did and said, you couldn't just stop.

Tommy kissed your temple, hoping that would help your nerves.

You smiled at him, then winked at Finn who grinned back.

Tommy led you to the kitchen. "We have a guest," he announced. Everyone turned to look at you, and your grip tightened on Tommy's hand. They all seemed surprised.

"But it's not S-" Arthur was cut off by John shoving his elbow into his brother's ribs.

That seemed enough to shake Polly out of her surprise. "Of course!" She hugged you smiling. "You're always welcome."

You felt your nervousness melt away and hugged her back. "Thanks, Pol."

She pulled back and turned to her nephew, pointing a finger at him. "If you hurt him, Thomas Shelby, I'll make you pay for it."

"What?! Why are you telling me?" he asked putting Finn down.

"Well, because he would never do anything bad," she replied without even thinking about it.

"Wait, aunt Pol. He is my best friend, I should be the one to give Tommy the talk."

Tommy shook his head. "This is absurd."

"Come on, I'm sure he is more than capable to look after himself."

You nodded quickly, agreeing with Ada.

"And I'm sure Tommy won't do anything he might regret unless he wants to have the whole family against him," she added crossing her arms and glaring at him.

You sighed and turned to look at Tommy. "Don't worry, I'll protect you from them."

Tags: @one-green-frog

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