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topazy · 2 years

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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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maysileeewrites · 5 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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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:

witchymoonbabe secretdreamlandmentality mysticalpandora kittiowolf210 muhahaha303 dreamy-caramel elinalfrida violet-19999 niyah834 watersquirtpewpewboomm piceous21 elliaze heidimoreton literishdegree99 globetrotter28 thecrazytealady regulusblacksimpsblog torresbarnes nightgirl250 sweet-angely05 allthenamestakenwtd

hellomyweirdos mysticalbouquetwolf-posts batmanbiersack02-blog fulla02 regulusblacksimpsblog smile-sugar calsjack starry-night-reid chlorrox regulusblacksimpsblog 100percentlazybonez kenny-0909 diabolusdevia stuckinmylittlebubble hobothejuggalo camomiletangeringe v7nt7

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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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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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daniel-bruehl · 1 year

Photo

Richard Harmon as JOHN MURPHY THE 100 | S02E04 - ‘Many Happy Returns’

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doortotomorrow · 9 months

Text

MURPHY + EMORI - standing around and looking pretty

#The 100 #John Murphy #Emori kom Spacekru #Memori #the100edit #do you ever get struck by how gorgeous they are #they're seriously one of the most beautiful onscreen couples I've ever seen

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mystra-midnight · 6 months

Text

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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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

909 notes · View notes

laufire · 1 month

Text

STACKED100 | march 15th | “we will rise” I have had enough of your stupid little jokes.

76 notes · View notes

topazy · 2 years

Text

What we found

Pairings: John Murphy x reader x Emori

Warnings: Implied sexual content

Chapter: 4.06

“Y/N, stop that right now!” Your mother says in a fierce tone.

The smile on your face falls as you leave the other kids who are climbing trees and playing to find out what you are in trouble for now. “Nomi?”

Her arms were crossed as she gave you a disappointed look. “I thought you understood how important your training is.”

You pout, looking down at the ground. It wasn’t fair. You just wanted to be a normal child instead and have fun. You’d heard the stories of the Natblida from your clan before, but none of them lived to see their twenties. And you didn’t want that. You didn’t want to die a painful death like them.

You awake to the comforting feeling of someone running their fingers through your hair. You open your eyes and see Emori smiling.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” you say, slowly sitting up, your body aching from all the transfusions. “Have I missed much?”

“Everyone else is gone, and Raven had another seizure.”

“Is she okay?” You ask alarmed. You didn’t know the brunette well, but compared to the other Skaikru people that you’d met, she was good and kind-hearted. You didn’t actually class John as Skaikru, despite the fact that he fell from the sky as well.

“She’s fine now,” Emori says softly. “You look lost in thought. What are you thinking about?”

“I was thinking how the world is about to end,” you chuckle. “Before I ran away, I had this crazy idea that I’d just be free, you know, like I’d finally be able to have fun? Instead, everything is so bleak.”

The fear of the others dying because of Praimfaya and you being left alone had been plaguing your mind for days.

Emori gives you a mischievous look, “the world is ending is bleak…” She brushes a strand of hair behind your ear and leans in closer to you, “but you could still have some fun.”

“There’s not a lot to do around here.”

“I can think of a few things…”

You catch onto her line of thinking and press a soft kiss to her lips. Her hands land on either side of your face as she deepens the kiss. You’d never kissed a girl before, but something about Emori was special. She was cunning and loyal, and the tattoo on her face suited her perfectly.

As you pull a part just to catch your breath, footsteps approach. You thought Emori would move away from you, but she remained close. Murphy entered the room that looked down onto the rest of Becca’s lab and closed the door behind him. He looks at you both suspiciously and says, “What are you guys doing?”

You let out a giggle before releasing that maybe Murphy wouldn’t appreciate you kissing his girlfriend. “Na he na mad?” Will he be mad?

“No,” she says with a smile. “You’re staring, John.”

“I'm admiring,” he says as he walks towards you, a smug expression on his face. “It’s clear I’ve interrupted something.”

The next few moments pass in a blur. Every movement becomes a mixture of groping and kissing between all three of you.

When Emori stands to start unfastening her trousers, Murphy pulls your top off. His touch is surprisingly gentle as his fingers trace down your spine. His eyes were a gorgeous dark blue, but behind them, Murphy looked like he was drowning. This was the first time you’d seen a light behind them. Maybe he needed this as much as you did.

—

Murphy presses a kiss to your bare shoulder before looking over at Emori, who is staring down into Becca’s lab. “Come on, come back,” he says, winking at you. “I'm good to go again.”

“Your friend Miller should be back by now,” she sighs. “They're not coming back, John.”

He shrugs, “So we go to Polis ourselves.”

“The boat's on the wrong side of the water,” you point out. “We'll never make it.”

“Then I guess we will ride out the storm in the lighthouse bunker.”

Emori raises her brows, “for five years? We'll starve.”

“Who needs food when you have love, right?” He chuckles.

You lean back down onto the makeshift bed and scoff, “What a thing to say.”

Murphy rolls on top of you, “Neither of you were complaining about what I had to say an hour ago.”

You grin as Murphy starts to press kisses down your neck. You look over at Emori, who pushes down her obvious feelings of worry and crouches down to join you and Murphy.

—

You finish packing the last of the rations into a box that Murphy is holding. “We'll bring this stuff to the lighthouse and see what else we can find on the island,” he announces.

Just as you get ready to leave, Miller and Jackson walk into Becca’s lab.

“You guys ready or what?”

“Sorry, we're late. There have been some developments. Not all good.”

“Fill you in on the way,” Miller says, picking up one of the other boxes. “Is this everything we need?”

You nod, “yeah.”

“Great. Someone needs to go get Raven. We don’t have much time. We only have five days until our mass fiery death.”

“What a positive outlook,” you chuckle.

Murphy stays behind to get Raven as you and Emori walk out with Jackson and Miler. It felt surreal to you that you were actually going to the bunker. You weren’t going to be alone anymore.

#the 100 #john murphy x emori x reader #john murphy x reader #John Murphy x you #emori x reader #Emori x you #the 100 fanfiction #the 100 fandom #John Murphy #emori the 100 #murphy the 100 #john murphy/you #John Murphy/oc #john murphy x grounder #john murphy/reader #what we found

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drawsdenfiles · 8 months

Text

STORM FRONT The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher

#Harry Dresden #Karrin Murphy #John Marcone #The Dresden Files #Jim Butcher #fanart #art #I've wanted to listen to the series again for awhile now- especially so that I can better catch all that delicious foreshadowing.#Man! If I can utilize foreshadowing in my comic even half as well as Jim does... Ohohoh #By the way- the hurricane wasn't much by the time it reached my place! Just lots of wind and rain. Lots. LOTS! It was thrilling.#And yes #It is uber-fitting to listen to Storm Front during a historic hurricane...............#..........Thank you for noticing.#concept art

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pherelesytsia · 9 months

Text

Who did this to you? - 9

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: 2.7k

Part 8

Chains, bloodied and graced with torn rotting flesh, moulding in the light of the wanning moon, dangled in all directions in the howling wind. Bones cracked under polished shoes freckled by grime and coated with rotting leaves. The lightbulbs among the broken were shining faintly, breaking the doom, the utter darkness ruling in the endless corridor leading into different vacant rusty halls.

The wind was howling, a lonely wolf, a hound greeting the full moon. Water dripped through the holey ceiling of metal and musty wood. The old building, far away from civilisation, with shattered windows barricaded by boards was surrounded.

The man clothed in a form-fitting suit didn’t bear a map, didn’t need a compass to find the right path. The faint stench of mould lingered in the stiff air. Rats fled in great haste, screeched and warned the brothers hiding in the holes in the ground and empty chests. A few dark grey strands illuminated the dark sea. Untroubled Thomas followed the path. His fingers tapped against the polished metal. He did not put his gaze over his shoulder, focused on the light showing the end of the tunnel. Deep hush voices exchanged brief words and the grin on his lips widened, thought of ways to harm the men who had dared to touch his wife.

Thomas tilted his head. The light hit the tip of his shoes, but the Shelby, a demon, the devil himself waiting patiently, remained in the shadows. Deftly, he leapt to the side, hiding behind the cargo crates stacked high from India, Africa and the far East. Footsteps echoed and a soft whimper, a kitten, a newborn calling for its mother, fell silent. More men, dark dressed creatures, followed the order with drawn weapons and waited for the signal. Thomas leaned forward, peering through the crack between the crates. Two men, shabbily dressed, stood in the light of the flickering yellowish bulb, but his keen eyes couldn’t find the source of the whimper.

“The money?” the thinner one pecked, wiping the oil from his fingers on his trousers.

The taller one laughed, folding his arms in front of his bulging chest.

“The woman will pay us off. I called her. By the end of the day, we’ll get the money.”, “We should have killed his wife right away,” the other said, leaning against the cargo boxes.

“Karl, I would have killed her, but the other guy came. We would have died otherwise. I know him, Solomons. He would have killed us,” he interjected.

“And what are we supposed to do now, Jimmy?” Karl questioned.

“And what will happen to us, Karl?” Jim asked.

Karl shrugged his shoulders. Eyes widened in shock, screams followed, bullets pierced flesh and grazed bones. Men in suits stormed the old run-down complex, a tsunami swallowing villages and towns. Closely followed by his men, Thomas entered the room, stepped closer with his gun drawn, fired and hit the bull’s eye, ran ahead, searched and cursed, but didn’t find the woman. Sweat cascaded his face, turned, and hoped the men could answer his questions, but the eyes had paled. Cursing, Thomas stared at his brothers opening the crates in the hope of finding Peggy in one of them.

“Where is she?” Arthur asked, heaving.

John cursed, nearly fell into the crate. Perplexed, he stared into the distance, cursed under his breath, turned with paled features towards his brothers and mumbled a short prayer.

The moon wandered on, over land and mountains, on and on, climbing hills and swimming over lakes and raging streams. Under the cover of the moon, ghastly shadows crept forth. Light burned in the mansion far away from civilisation, from towns and villages. The vehicles parked in front of the mansion were not neatly lined up. Curtains were drawn and didn’t allow to witness the people warming themselves by the flames, gnawing on the hardened biscuits and awakening the sense with the dark unsweetened liquid. The phone didn’t ring, and the bell didn’t announce a guest.

The clock was ticking, heels clicked against the creaking hardwood. Voices had died down, the women did not chatter as the gentle voice breathing delicate word into the microphone sang of love and gentle kisses. The women exchanged meaningless glances, glanced at the man they thought would never enter the house, who had settled down by the fireplace and was leafing through the book with his legs crossed, staring again and again at the doors and windows in search of grim faces pursued by evil intentions. Y/N warmed her fingers on the cup filled with tea and dipped her tongue in the warm liquid.

“Don’t worry, they will be here soon. It’s just a matter of time. Don’t worry, my dear.” Ada breathed.

She flashed the shaking woman a smile, breathed encouraging words, but they couldn’t banish the fear from her heart.

“They’ve been gone for a long time. At least three hours now.” Y/N breathed.

“You worry too much Y/N/N. The Shelby can take something. If he’s not here by seven, then we’ll go looking for him together.” Alfie joked.

Y/N stretched her arms into the air. Sleep gnawed on her bones and the voice in her head assured her that all would be well, that Thomas was on his way back, that the door would open soon and he would stand with Peggy and a promise to change by her side. She counted the seconds, focused on the clock, yet Y/N had lost track of time and space a long time ago. Her eyes widened. The tiredness was gone with the wind. Groaning, Y/N jumped and threw the blanket away. A wall, the last wall of defence rose in front of her and a palm settled on her back.

“Come, little one. We will go together. You stay here. I have everything under control. I saw a car.” Alfie said.

Y/N tried to argue, telling him to stay with the others, that she wanted to go alone, but no words crossed her lips and nodded. Alfie smiled, gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, stuffed his gun into the pocket, and guided Y/N away from the richly set table. Keys jingled. Alfie pushed Y/N behind him, but the young woman went ahead. The cold air brushed her skin and painted her cheeks. Brows almost touched. Y/N looked questioningly at Peggy, shook her head, and lips parted.

“Peggy?” Y/N whispered, not believing her eyes, convinced she was about to awake from a dream.

She looked healthy. Not a drop of blood clung to the long white evening dress, looked like a woman on her way to church to walk down the aisle. The hair was laid in curls, dotted with pearls and glass shaped in tears. The bouquet, white and red flowers fell to the ground. A smile, false as a fox’s, sweet as a snake’s voice, spread on her lips.

�� “You’re well?” Y/N questioned.

“Why shouldn’t I be well? I am glad to see that you are well. I see nothing happened to you while I was away. I told you to wait for me at home. I could never have forgiven myself if something bad had happened to you.” Peggy spoke coldly, stoically, emotionlessly.

“Where’s Thomas? He’s out looking for you. I was worried about you.” Y/N uttered.

Spreading her arms, Y/N wanted to enclose Peggy in a tight hug, but fingers clawed deep into the thin material covering her, forcing her to stagger backwards.

“Alfie, can you please let go of me?’ Y/N demanded.

Y/N turned and stubbornly demanded to be let free, but Alfie shook his head.

“Why do you have to make everything more complicated? Get in there and don’t do anything stupid or you’ll all regret it. Are we clear?”, “I wouldn’t do that.” Alfie interjected. He removed his hand from the pistol and rose his hands into the air after he pulled Y/N closer to his chest.

“Peggy?” Y/N breathed, hoped the person bore a mask, but it was Peggy.

Colour drained from her features. Cold metal pressed deeper into her skin. Bloodshot eyes forced Alfie to step back and told him not to dare to waste a single thought about doing something he might regret. Questions nor curses crossed Y/N´s lips pressed into a fine line. A lonely tear cascaded down her left cheek and left a red burning mark on her skin. Y/N questioned her life, every decision she had made, every word and complain she had said to Peggy in hope she would aid her. Synchronically, Ada and Polly arose, aimed, but no shots pierced the air. Peggy chased Alfie away to stand by the wall and he listened and placed the weapon on the ground as the women as Peggy stood tall behind the crumbling shield.

“Why?” Y/N inquired, her heart bursting through skin and bone.

Peggy laughed and combed through Y/N´s locks with her long light-coloured nails.

“I should be in your place. It would have been so easy. But those idiots let you get away and then you were at my door and I just had to let you in. I called these fools. I knew they would be at the bar, and informed them that you were with me, that they should walk in and take care of you. I then set off here, wanting to inform all of you that something might have happened to Y/N. I would have taken your place, but this man had to interfere with my plan.” Peggy joked.

Her bloodshot eyes slid from one person to another and pointing her finger at the tall man settling down on the armchair by the crackling fire.

“How would you have done it? The Shelby wouldn’t have to believe you. Nobody would have.” Alfie questioned, with his arms crossed in front of his body.

“Nobody? Suddenly everybody was searching for Y/N. When I returned home, she was gone. I am a good actress, I had classes when I was young and played in the theatre, always the evil and wicked,” the woman huffed.

She chuckled.

“Thomas would have believed me. I would have played the good friend, helping him through this rough path. I just wanted to play the worried friend. I would have helped to find Y/N and then after a good month the case would have gone cold. The postman would have brought a letter from overseas and the problem would have been solved. Thomas would have found a good friend in me and later a wife,” she sneered.

“But they trashed your house.” Y/N breathed, eliciting a malicious laugh from the mad woman.

“I was a bit angry and had to let my anger run free. My plan was perfect.” she huffed, stroking Y/N’s skin with the weapon.

“You wanted to kill me?” Y/N breathed.

“No one cared about you, you told me everything, your former husband barely cared about you, you slept alone, spent your days alone, were air for everyone, I didn’t expect anyone to care about you.” Peggy laughed.

Y/N gulped, nodded, and breathed a soft prayer, prayed for the safety of all of them a few steps away from her.

“A confident woman. Why would I marry you?” a deep voice sneered.

Smiling, Peggy turned around, fixed her hair and let go of Y/N, but she was rooted into the ground, turning into a statue overgrown by moss.

“All these months you’ve been using me.” Y/N

The veil fell, and the wind carried away the dense mist. Y/N balled her hands into fists, nails bore deep into the soft flesh, but no sound escaped her lips. She faced Peggy, unfearful of the weapon in her right hand.

“You never told me to give Thomas a chance, to at least try to get along with him. You never said anything nice about him. When he gave me flowers or chocolate, you told me he’d cheated on me and feared I would find out.” Y/N whispered, her voice raising with every fallen word.

She remembered the forgotten, the lonely nights, the long calls, the endless hours spend in the small room and crying her heart out to the wrong person, hoping Peggy would help her like only a friend could.

“We spoke on the phone when Thomas didn’t come back that evening and instead of telling me that he must be working but you swore on your parents’ lives that you saw him in the arms of a woman.” Y/N cried out.

Y/N faced her friend, unfaced and untroubled by the loaded gun.

“I suppose that was a lie, too. Probably everything you told me was a lie,” Y/N whispered.

She remembered the nights she was pouring out her heart and the answers that were as false as the snake’s words. She raised her eyes and looked up at Thomas. The man swallowed, saw the questions in his wife’s eyes and smiled.

“I was never unfaithful, Y/N. I was a terrible husband, but I was always faithful to you,” Thomas assured her.

“I believe you,” Y/N whispered, but Thomas had heard the answer.

Y/N advanced, oblivious to the woman in the wedding garment, wanting to go towards her husband, but Peggy made it impossible for her to do so, getting in the way.

“Enough of this sweet talk.” Peggy chuckled.

Metal dazzled the eyes. She grabbed Y/N by the collar, scratched her skin, pressed her tightly against him. And the men and women, apart from Thomas, recoiled with their hands up. Thomas stashed his hands in his trouser pockets and nodded, guessing what she would demand.

“You let me out and nothing will happen to her.” Peggy requested.

The Shelby nodded, exchanged brief glances with his brothers.

“Good, go, you know the way. You hand Y/N over to me at the door. I leave my gun here and you put yours away. Do we understand each other?” Thomas spoke.

“I don’t think you’re in a position to make demands here, Thomas, but I’ll take your offer. But I want them out of here. I want them all out of here in the kitchen.” Peggy interjected.

Thomas gestured to his siblings to leave, nodding, indicating that they should be on their way, that they shouldn’t worry, but his eyes betrayed him. Slowly, they rose from the sofa and did as Thomas ordered them again to leave. Heels clicked against the hardwood. Hush voices exchanged words, and the door slammed shut.

“Can we go?” Thomas probed.

Thomas walked ahead, showed the way, paused at the open door, pushed it wide open and motioned the woman to leave. His hands clenched into fists. He wanted to free Y/N from the woman’s clutches, heard the soft whimpering as Peggy grabbed her former friend. Teeth gritted. Peggy stopped and turned with Y/N.

“Here you go.” she shoved Y/N in his direction.

Y/N staggered forward, threatening to fall like a soldier, but arms wrapped tightly around her body, pressing her tightly to his chest. Thomas breathed loving words into her ear, pressed his dried lips on her skin and pressed featherlight kisses on her cheek. He murmured a prayer and begged for her forgiveness. Sweat danced down his face. He pressed another fleeting kiss on her temple. Thomas put his hands over her ears, deafening her to the screams and bullets piercing the air and suddenly, after all this time filled with screams and prayers, silence reigned over the land.

TagList:

kiara-rose-blackthorn rangerelik abaker74 madsothree kittiowolf210 lucyandersons-world marigold-morelli meyocoko angelicwolfyqueen iwanttohitmyself pennywisesstuff batgurl42 sleepymadmess lolcaca yolobloggers lor-16 randomgirlwriting rs-fanfiction-2001 bohemian-lavender-girl woofgocows evilangel1324 mrkdvidal1989 nervousmumbling camomiletangeringe tommystargirl toxicenough deadunicorn159 nnercreationflower liar-or-lawyer optimisticsandwichgladiator comfortzonequeen nctma15 banksmars twistxdx inloveppp answer-the-sirens justanotherficreader nunya7394 lovemissyhoneybee lostgirl219 yourbloodyqueen valentinqee elisa20beth comfortzonequeen khaleesihavilliard horror-eye sometimesvaliantrebel untoldshortsofthefandoms untoldshortsofthefandoms yellowcrowngodess teamfreeavocados justtiasblog thegirlnextdoorssister reading02 kai-unknown squidwardsluverxx honeynicoole zealouspursecowboydeputy maw272727272727 redsa

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cassianaries · 9 months

Text

Thomas Shelby POV

POV: you’re having a conversation with thomas shelby at the pub. (background music/noise does not belong to me)

i made this a while back and i’ve always wondered if i should write a fic based on this, based on their conversation, why they’ve decided to have a drink together? are they reconnecting after many years?

this pov has been inspiring a lot of ideas for a fic, let me know what you think is happening, any ideas that spark from this pov for a fic. i’m curious to know what you all think. hope you like it!

#arthur shelby #arthur shelby x reader #arthur shelby smut #john shelby #john shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x you #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby pov #cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfic

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your-nanas-house · 4 months

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Family or more

◇ Pairing: Emma Skillpa X fem!Reader, John Skillpa X fem!Reader

◇ Warnings: passionate kissing, multiple personality disorder, fluff, angst, friends to lovers

◇ Summary: Y/n spends Christmas Eve with the Skillpa.

◇ Note: Another collaboration with @mrkdvidal1989. Fic of the new "event" 'From love to Love'!!! He wrote most of it... sorry, man.

She took a deep breath, holding her coat tightly closed to her body, a basket with food lazily hanging on to her arm.

The cold wind kept blowing right in her face accompanied by relentless snow, as she stood in front of the Skillpa’s house.

It was Christmas Eve so there was no one out in the streets but there she was, looking around with her body nearly frozen. A deep reason behind her gesture.

That day was way longer than she'd like it to be, as she yawned covering her face.

Nothing was happening, time in the bank flowing lazily with a couple of customers coming in every now and then.

Looking around she noticed only two workers sitting by their desks, talking and servicing customers.

It wasn't surprising, since the town wasn't big by any means. Barely ten thousand residents.

Getting up, Y/n straightened her back looking at her coworkers. Each sitting behind their desks, separated by little walls.

After a second she could see the jet black hair peeking from behind the thin wall.

A smile appeared on her lips before taking the right direction to head towards John's desk.

”Hey Johnny” She spoke up, startling him a little as he jumped in his seat. His brown eyes scanned her face before letting out a breath through his mouth.

”Y/n” He breathed out. ”You scared me.” he murmured softly while lowering his gaze shyly.

She giggled hearing his slightly shaky tone.

He was always like this, ever since she met him as a teenager. Quiet and not very outgoing, keeping to himself. Not bothering anyone.

Her eyes wandered around their work place before stopping back on the shy man

“Any plans for today?” she asked, playing nervously with the ring she was wearing, not taking her eyes away from him.

“Are you.. And Emma going to do something special?” Y/n asked with a kind smile, nodding at a coworker as he passed by… still waiting for any reply.

John shook his head slightly, stopping to work to look shyly at her, his gaze a bit low.. not really meeting her own “Nothing special, we planned just a dinner. She will cook… just an intimate and cosy thing.” he informed her with a tight lip smile.

Y/n nodded, still playing with her ring as she weighed her options, knowing well how John's disorder worked. Gulping through the knot in her throat, she gathered the courage.

”Can… Can I come too?” She whispered quietly, offering a small smile “I could help Emma with the food.” Suggesting quietly, she moved closer, looking him in the eyes.

John moved around, uncomfortably before she put a hand on his shoulder.

”I… I don't know.” He stuttered out nervously, running a hand through his hair. Y/n knew what was going through his head. He was wondering if Emma would like that, but… but Y/n knew that John would spend Christmas all alone. Without having any family members and friends, he'd have no other choice…

”Come on, Johnny. We're friends. Emma likes me too.” She encouraged him like she always did, being a little playful to gain his small, shy smile.

Getting up from his chair, John straightened his back, gaining a few inches to his height before looking her in the eyes with a smile.

”O..okay” He nodded, chuckling before she went in for a hug, embracing his thin silhouette.

Her feet started to bring her closer to the front door, her mind racing as thoughts filled her head. Who was going to open the door? Emma… John? She never knew what to expect while coming over, but that day.. was important. She had to, Y/n encouraged herself quietly.

Two knocks and quick but soft, muffled footsteps approached the door.. her heart beating faster with anticipation, her hands shaking slightly.

“Yes?” The front door opened, Emma tilted her head, watching her carefully, kind of surprised and confused “Hi, dear” Y/n smiled sweetly, looking her up and down “You look amazing! I love your dress and hairstyle” she complimented, entering the house after the woman smiled confidently while locking the door behind her “Thank you”.

The two women stood in front of each other, Y/n looking awkwardly before handing her container with food. Emma smiled back, a little unsure but grateful before letting her in.

She walked quickly to the kitchen, putting the basket on the counter, ready to prepare all the food and the table.

“What are you doing?” Emma asked quickly, staring at her curiously, a glimpse of annoyance in her brown eyes. Her hands on her hips and her head tilted in a scolding way “You are a guest, I can take care of this, honey. Go sit in the living room” she ordered with a soft scowl, still smiling to appear kind. ”John is getting ready, he will be down shortly.” She added.

Y/n nodded quickly, not wanting to upset her or anything so she headed to the living room, removing her coat before sitting on the sofa with an empty stare.

Her leg kept bouncing up and down, trying to keep the ticklish sensation under control.

The whole atmosphere in the house was always the same, but.. even after all those years, she still felt kind of scared but fascinated… and the feelings she had for John were stronger than any kind of fear she ever felt around Emma or him.

After seeing that the brunette woman prepared all the food, she could hear her steps on the stairs. Heels clicking against the wood as she climbed them quickly with grace. Unmistakably Emma.

With a smile Y/n waited for John, not too long, because only a couple minutes before the black haired man came down. His brown eyes lighting up as soon as he noticed her by the table. His footsteps were rather different from the ones before. Heavier, yet less confident and slower.

“Hi, John” the young woman quickly greeted, getting up with a brighter smile “You.. you look good” she complimented softly, knowing well that he was far too shy to compliment her first without being uncomfortable. She had no intentions of making him uncomfortable in any way, today.

“Thank.. you. You look beautiful as well.” He replied with a nervous chuckle before sitting by her side, glancing around the room before his chocolate eyes settled on her face.

“Thank you” she smiled, looking at how his Adam’s apple moved as he gulped nervously, his hands rubbing against his thighs.

Seeing his nervous gestures, Y/n chuckled quietly, getting his attention as he looked at her with a smile.

”What?” He asked in a shaky voice, making her shake her head lightly. ”Nothing, Johnny. Maybe.. maybe we should open the wine I brought? Emma left it on the kitchen counter.” She suggested biting her bottom lip nervously, earning a quick shy nod from him.

John got up, heading to the kitchen before he froze for a second, turning around.

”Shouldn’t we wait for her?” He asked, making Y/n’s heartbeat faster for a moment. Shaking her head lightly, she replied.

”Um… no, no.. she went upstairs to get ready, you know.. ladies need time to look beautiful.” Y/n said, trying to sound confident.. which apparently worked as he nodded, quickly heading to the kitchen and popping the wine open, followed by her.

His shaky hands reached for two glasses, filling them with the poisoning drink, handing it carefully to her… watching her sip before doing the same.

They kept looking at each other awkwardly while drinking, her gaze on him as he started to wander shyly, stopping on the ceiling… causing her to look there as well.

As the lighthead that she was, Y/n felt light and chatty after a barely couple sips of the strong wine, making John smile shyer as he watched her become bolder.

Her cheeks became more flushed, eyes more shiny as she chatted about the funny story she had.

Suddenly stopping with her words as John let out a relaxed laugh, one that she never heard before. Shaking his head he kept chuckling before turning his head, as he noticed that she didn't continue.

”Huh? What?” He repeated, cheeks turning red as well at the sudden attention he had from her side. Noticing the warmth in her stare, he almost squirmed.

“Nothing, just… love your laugh.” she whispered with a soft smile, moving closer to him while putting the glass down on the surface. John’s eyes scanned her shyly, his body moving carefully backwards till he gathered a bit of boldness, enough to take a step forward so that Y/n could now reach for him.

He gulped softly, watching his lovely friend as she admired his face, her hands rubbing his arms carefully, as to not startle him, while leaning closer and closer. Her breath now caressing his pale face.

”Wh..what are you…” John whispered, trying to stutter out a coherent question but stumbling over his words. Y/n smiled lightly, looking in his beautiful brown eyes before tilting her head up, and looking far above their heads with a chuckle.

”Look up.” She suggested quietly, which he.. eventually did.

A mistletoe, hanging right from the ceiling. John furrowed his eyebrows with a tight lip grin, trying to remember when he put it there. After a couple seconds realising that… it must've been Emma.

His brown eyes lowered slowly, jolting softly when she moved her hands on his narrow hips, her nose brushing against his.. the bold feeling taking over her body and mind, combined with the wine she drank, creating the confidence that usually would never come to her.

“Tradition, hmm?” Y/n whispered with flushed cheeks, looking for approval in his eyes before letting her gaze fall on his pink lips.

As soon as she moved closer, almost touching him… John's world stopped spinning for a moment. Waiting with anticipation for the upcoming moment, he froze, breathing deeply through his slightly parted lips.. before feeling hers on his own, fitting so perfectly like they never parted. Like they were made to kiss and never stop.

Her lips were soft against his, her movements slow… his eyes fluttered shut, stopping his attempt to reciprocate for a moment, as anxiety pierced his mind really quickly.

Only when Y/n’s hand pulled him closer, John let himself relax into the kiss, sighing quietly before he kissed her back, as well as he could. The sensation was very overwhelming, in a couple seconds John felt… a little weak, his mind becoming distant before suddenly blacking out, almost like he fell asleep.

Y/n’s eyes widened as she felt his hands move towards her hips, grasping them roughly before pushing her on the counter. Kiss becoming deeper, more passionate and bold.

His hands moved, letting his arms hold and hug her smaller frame while his lips moved quickly down her neck, making her shiver and squeak softly.

“John—” she breathed out, trying to push him softly away from him “So eager” She added, her voice filled with surprise at his unexpected behaviour.

A nervous giggle escaping her hips, feeling pretty shy now that he was acting that way… another squeak left her mouth as his hands grabbed the flesh of her ass while kissing her passionately.

“Slow!... Slow down” she shied away, meeting his gaze… both breathing heavily “Sorry, darling” a more feminine voice replied. Her brown eyes checking her out as she bit her bottom lip, nibbling on it softly not noticing or ignoring the shocked expression on Y/n’s face.

“Some more wine? Or do we start the dinner?” she asked her with a soft smile, pecking her lips again before walking back to the counter to prepare the things.

A soft smile on her face till she turned back around, meeting Y/n’s eyes “Come on, honey” she smiled brighter, making the young woman blush more before moving quickly to help her with the table.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter , @mrkdvidal1989

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