#john murphy the 100

[maysileeewrites]

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

[sleepershell]

Azgeda Charm

synopsis The sister of Ontari from Azgeda decides it could be fun to free the sky boy pretending to be her sister’s fleimkepa.

word count 2668

note originally posted on Ao3

warnings 18+ minors please DNI, smut, swearing, penetrative sex, oral sex female receiving, dubious consent but not really, dom! reader, sub! murphy

pairing John Murphy x f!reader

“Chains? Really, she’s chained her pet up now?” She’s always been a bit overzealous, but my sister really has gotten herself into it this time. How does she expect no one to find out that she isn’t a true commander? Without the flame she’s just my idiot sister. “Give me the key. Now.”

I shove her man aside and stalk toward her quarters. He grunts, but won’t do anything about my treatment of him. If there’s anything good to say about my sister it’s that she protects me. In fact, I’m probably the only person other than Roan, Nia, and their goons who could ever talk back to her without getting skewered.

I’m quiet as I near the door, creeping extra slowly in my heavy boots. With my ear to the wood I hear the muffled sounds of her speaking to him–the scrawny Skaikru boy.

“There’s somebody else, okay? I’m sorry.” Doesn’t sound sorry to me. My breath tightens in my chest, my sister doesn’t like to be told no. And, if he fights her on it, she will certainly win, one way or another…

“Is she a commander too?” Well, you’re not really a commander are you, Ontari?

“No.” Chains rattle within. So she did have him chained up. What a charmer my sister is. I feel my heartbeat quicken but I can’t tell why. As though I’m in battle when I am not.

“Would she kill you if you ever lied to her,” The chains make a cracking sound, and I hear him grunt. “Did anything to break her trust, or upset her in any-”

I’m moving before I can think better of it. I don’t know why I would do such a horribly foolish thing but I do. When the door slams open Ontari is there, pulling him toward her by a chain that is cuffed around his neck. The look on his face is a perplexing one, hesitant but willing, typical man. I scoff. Loyalty is a myth. Ontari is bare, of course flaunting the body that has always been so much better than mine.

“Sister!” She is displeased. “You are interrupting.”

I shake my head at her. “Chit yu dula op?”

“Just having a little fun.” She grits out. I raise my brows at her, and she crosses her arms over her perky, bare breasts like an insolent child.

“Well. Glad to see you’ve learned some things about enslaving people.” I glance pointedly at the chain still in one of her hands. I can tell that upset her, but it’s true. How can she abuse her power like this when we’ve lived under the fist of others for so long? “Anyway, you wanted to know when King Roan arrived. He has.”

My sister sucks in a breath, composing herself. “Of course. Thank you, sister.” I lean in the doorway as she dresses and shift my glance over to see that her ‘fleimkepa’ is eyeing me cautiously. I narrow my eyes in return. He must be a snake to have fallen in with Ontari. Of course, I’m not much better. I’ve killed for her.

She slips past me. “And what should I do with your prisoner?” I mock.

“Don’t touch,” she hisses.

“Don’t worry.” I slam the door behind her before turning to take in the scene before me. It’s a pitiful display. The sky boy’s face is decorated in lines of dried blood, and he looks ridiculous in the robes he’s clad in. “Hello, liar.” He frowns. I can tell he doesn’t want to say anything, doesn’t want to reveal his hand without knowing how much I already know. “What is your name?”

“People call me Murphy.”

“I didn’t ask what people call you. I asked for your name.”

He smirks but it doesn’t reach his eyes. It seems he’s used to playing pretend. “John Murphy.”

I approach him, our eyes not breaking contact. His are dark blue and difficult to read. I reach up and unlock the collar around his neck, dropping it to the floor in a loud metal thud. He isn’t bad looking. I noticed it when Ontari first began toting him around. I’m unsure if it’s the strong nose or the way his lips curl into a sarcastic smile at the slightest hint of play. He’s like a child that way.

“Well you’re welcome, John Murphy.” I turn away from him, walking toward the window. Everything is so big in Polis, and it’s startling to look down from so high up. “You should go before my sister returns.”

“Go? So you’ll disobey her?”

I can’t help but giggle at that. When I turn around he looks deadly serious. “I’m not afraid of her. Not like you, sky boy.”

“Sky boy.” He chuckles. “Alright, so if I walk out that door right now you won’t be killing me?”

“Nope.” I extend a hand toward the door. He shrugs and approaches it.

“Thanks. Your name?” He asks.

“(Y/n).” He nods. He does not go anywhere. I feel my stomach knotting. Ontari would very much not like this.

“Why do you stay with your sister?”

“She’s my sister.”

“Look, I’m not going to pry the answer out of you. You clearly don’t like her.” So casually he speaks to me, though I could easily murder him right here and anyone else surely would have already. There’s a knife at my hip, another in my boot. It would be too easy. “You could leave.”

At that, I scoff. “With you?”

“Well, I could manage getting out of here myself but it’d be a lot easier if you walked me out in chains.”

Ontari was right about him. He is smart, foxlike. I’ve always admired foxes, you know, before my sister would go in for the kill. I suddenly feel bare, but there’s no way he could know how much I’ve wanted to leave. I’ve spent my entire life in Ontari’s shadow. My perfect Natblida sister. And she has no idea the way Nia’s men would treat me behind closed doors, no idea the things I’ve done to protect her. My feet are moving now–what is it about this boy that makes me so thoughtless?

He holds out his wrists and I begin to tie them up. He flinches in pain as I pull the knot tight, and I tut at him. “Is it the sky that makes you all so weak, or just the coddling from your mothers?”

“I don’t have a mother anymore. Or a father.”

I meet his eyes, and again have no idea what I see in them.

“Then we are the same. Come on.” I yank him along with me, taking a huge breath before leaving the room. This could be very easy or end in Ontari slaying him on sight and finding some way to punish me. Why did I care if this pet of her’s died? “Hurry.” I hissed.

We’ve made it down the first hallway when I hear sounds from around the next corner. Luckily, there’s a shallow alcove in the dark to our left. I slam him into it, clasping my hand over his mouth and pressing my body tight against him. Hopefully this will be enough. He winks at me and I glare back.

Whoever it was passes us without incident, and we make the rest of our journey out undetected. Outside, he holds his hands out to me.

“I don’t think so.” I grin.

“Oh boy, what have I gotten myself into now.”

I lead him out of Polis, toward the surrounding forest where we won’t be so easily found. Pleased with our progress, I stop to rest.

“Are you letting me out of this anytime soon or should I be trying to escape?”

With my back to him, I ask the question that’s been on my mind. “You said to my sister there’s someone else. Is there?”

“There was. But, no, not anymore.” It’s a loaded answer, but one that causes my stomach to flutter regardless.

“So, you rejected your commander even without another woman on your mind?”

“We both know she isn’t a commander. And I don’t have a commander. Kind of a loner, when I’m not chained up.”

I turn. “And you find yourself chained up often, I assume?”

He shrugs. “More often than I’d like.”

I take a step toward him. If I could just read him this wouldn’t be so difficult. But if there’s one language I’m familiar with, it’s force. So, as I walk past him, I kick his knees out from under and he falls forward onto them. “So I’m to believe you don’t like being tied up?”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” I circle him, his eyes trained on me.

“How far would you go?” I am so out of my depth, but the way he looks up at me from below is like a drug. I could be this girl, the one who makes men fall on their knees. Maybe that’s who I am when men aren’t asking me to talk to my sister for them.

He blinks, and the first real smile I’ve seen breaks out on his face. “I’m yours.”

Those words alone send me into a frenzy. A sound escapes my throat and I grab him by the back of his head smashing my lips into his. He knows more of this than I do, I can tell, but when I back away there’s nothing mocking in the way he looks at me.

I take off my jacket first, then hesitate. This is the part I’ve always feared. “I don’t look like Ontari.” As if he couldn’t see already that she was built athletic and delicate like a doe and I was certainly not.

“And?” What an ass. But it works. I swallow and began to undress. As I do so, I don’t expect him to say anything. I know I’m bigger than her. But I can still have this. I don’t look at him until he clears his throat. “You’re beautiful.”

“What?” I croak.

“Do you need me to say it again? I want you.”

That’s it. I close the space between us. He eyes my tits from below. “Touch me.” I command.

He lifts his bound hands and raises a brow. I Shake my head ‘no.’ He'll have to figure it out. And he does. He brushes them up one leg and I shiver. He traces figure eights at the apex of my thighs. I part my legs in response, then grab his hand and bring it to my mouth. I take his first two fingers as far as they go, getting them wet, before returning them to him.

“Fuck.” He mutters under his breath. He brushes his fingers over my folds and then parts them. The fingers find their way to my entrance and I let out a moan. In response, he dives into me, pulling his fingers almost out before sliding them back in, over and over. His index finger curls inside me and my legs threaten to give out.

“John.” His eyes shoot up to me, as though I’ve said something more jarring than his own name. “I want your tongue.”

I lean back on the rough bark of a nearby tree and tilt my pelvis forward to give him access. He wastes no time in finding my clit, swirling his tongue around it. It’s almost too much all at once and I pull back.

“Can’t handle it?” I give him a halfhearted smack across the cheek, and it gives him all the answer he needs. His mouth finds me again, this time determined and rhythmic. Fuck. Who taught him how to do that?

My fingers find their way into his hair, and I tug at it as his mouth brings me closer and closer to oblivion. As it nears, I can’t hold back my whimpering moans, and he groans in response, the vibration of it sending me over the edge entirely. Braced against the tree, my body tremors in pleasure. When I glance back down he looks too smug.

“What are you smiling about?”

“Oh, nothing. Although you might want to work on your knot tying.” He raises the rope I’d tied around his wrists, his face smug.

I trace a finger down the side of his face, down along his neck. When I reach his chest, I give a hard shove, knocking him back onto the ground. While he’s still in shock, I grasp his hands and pin them down. Now he looks hungry.

“Would you like to be let go?” I ask in the sweetest voice I can muster, fluttering my eyelashes.

He shakes his head once. His eyes do not meet me, but are focused on my breasts which dangle right above him. I know what he wants, so I lean closer and he takes one of my nipples in his mouth. His tongue swirls, and I feel the hardness in his pants against my swollen cunt. I can’t help but rub myself on it and soon can’t take it anymore.

I let go of my grasp on him so I can undo the buttons on his pants. Apparently I take too long, because he slips his hands under mine and whips his cock out for me. My eyes widen and my pussy clenches at the sight. He is much more endowed than I would’ve expected from one of the weak sky people.

“You like what you see?” He is amused, and so I give his cock a light smack. He winces.

“I could kill you.” We smile at one another. This could be a very good arrangement.

I ease myself onto his hard cock. I’m so wet from before that it slips inside me with no resistance. We both let out involuntary moans as I’m filled with him.

“Fuck, your pussy is so tight.” He gasps.

His cock is long enough that I whimper when it is fully sheathed. He looks to pleased at that, so I lean forward and let his cock fall out. He growls in frustration as I thrust my clit on him.

“If you want me to put it back in, you’re going to have to beg.”

“You’re sadistic.”

“You seem to like it quite a bit.” I look down at his cock to drive my point.

“Fine. Please ride my cock?”

“Oh, come on, you can do better than that.”

“(Y/n), please ride my fucking cock, I feel like im going to burst.”

“Yes, John.” I slide him back inside and roll my hips. His hands find their way to my waist and I start to bounce on him. He feels incredible inside me, and I start to ride harder. I want his fucking come inside me.

My hands find their way around his neck, beginning to cut off blood flow. His eyes roll back, and suddenly he’s lifting me up with his hands so that his hips can do all the work. He pounds so hard that he is hitting what feels like the very end of me. I clench around him, wanting it to never fucking end.

“Harder.” He groans, and I oblige, clenching down around his throat.

His face begins to turn color and I start to wonder if I’ve gone too far when he lets out a long, animalistic groan and I feel him twitching inside me. His pleasure goes on longer than I thought possible, and the load inside me must be huge. When he’s finished, I lay forward, letting him remain inside me. We are both spent, our panting breaths nearly in tandem as I lay bare on top of him in the forest.

I place a kiss on his jaw, close to his ear and whisper. “Well, that was fun.”

He cranes his neck to look down on me, his brows furrowed slightly. “Where are you going now?”

I realize I have no idea. I’ve never been without my sister before. So I shrug.

“I’m taking you with me.”

xx

#fanfic #fanfiction #john murphy #oneshot #the 100 #john murphy the 100 #the things i do to survive #john murphy x reader #murphy the 100 #smut #sub john murphy #playful smut #playful John murphy #💤🦪 #🪳

[pogueswrld]

Could you please do “ I want you to feel good” with John Murphy? I love your imagines! 😍

this was deep in my asks and it's half-assed I'm so sorry

*•.¸♡ drunk ♡¸.•*

pairing: john murphy x fem!reader

summary: murphy is drunk on his lover, and he's not afraid to show her

warning: smut!!! 🦢 pussy drunk john giving reader head basically, and some praise ig

note: this is super super short I'm sorry :/

“Fuck!”

y/n was sure that if John didn’t have his arms wrapped around her hips and thighs, she would have flown away by now.

His hold on her was tight, with his hands intertwined just above her belly button. His face was buried in her cunt, nose nudging at her clit and tongue lapping up her juices. He could almost swear he was in heaven. Every time he looked up at her and saw her face, her expression only amplified that belief.

He was far too good for her to remain silent, and he was unstoppable. Pulling one orgasm after the other from her like they were ribbons coming out of a magician’s hat. He had her squirming and whimpering, but he never let her go. He was drunk on her taste and feel, he never wanted to let her go.

“Johnny,” she whimpered, her fingers buried in his strands, tugging at his roots every time his tongue penetrated her and fucked her without rhythm. “I’m gonna cum again.” 

Her words were mere gasps, and it made a smug smirk pull at his lips. “Oh I know you are, angel. I can feel you.” She whined at his words, and the noise made his eyes roll to the back of his head.

There was something so pure about seeing the person you love more than anything enjoy themselves, but to know that you’re the one giving them pleasure? Murphy was certain he was going to cum in his pants.

With a brand new sense of need and desperation, Murphy put all his energy into pulling that one more orgasm from his lover. Using his fingers to stimulate her while overwhelming her clit into overdrive, y/n was squealing his name within minutes. She gushed and clenched around his fingers, and John pulled away just enough to see her. His pupils dilated and his mind was completely blown.

He looked up at her, watching the way her chest was rising and falling rapidly as he tried to catch her breath, then spread little kisses throughout her inner thighs. “You look so pretty, baby. I’m so proud of you, you did so well for me.”

#john murphy smut #john murphy #john murphy x reader #john murphy the 100 #john murphy imagine #the 100

[twirlywhirlywriting]

What Would I Do Without You?

I finally did it!!! This was definitely a challenge for me as a writer. I am mostly used to female submissives so this was a huge change! I hope you all like it, I worked really hard on it! Here you go, my loves, submissive John Murphy!

Title: What Would I Do Without You?

TAGS/WARNINGS: 18+ Minors DNI, Smut, Sub!Murphy x Dom!/Reader, Reader’s POV, Fem Reader, Use of Y/N, Cussing, Soft Dom, Mistress Kink, Obedience, Reassurance, Strip Tease, Kissing, Praise, Fingering, Oral (f receiving), P in V (unprotected), Orgasms, Soft Edging (literally one time), Handjob, Slight Mess, Aftercare, Mentions of Love

The first thing that I need to point out before telling you anything, is that John Murphy is mine. He is the love of my life, he is my best friend, he is my baby. He’s my submissive, my fuck toy, my good boy, just mine. I know that when you look at us, we seem like any other “power couple” who are really just giant assholes who don’t care about anyone else but each other. But really, he’s just trying to give the people what they want, and well, I can’t help myself from being protective of him and his feelings. 

The only reason he is being so forceful in making everyone take off those stupid wristbands is because no one wants the fuckers who put us down here to follow us. We don’t deserve to be prisoners. We are lucky none of us are 18, otherwise we’d all be dead anyways. But they put us on this dropship without our permission. They are the ones who didn’t know if they were killing us or not. And now we have the entire Earth to ourselves. The last thing that any of us want is for those stupid assholes to follow us down and take control again, or worse, call us criminals again. We deserve this whole goddamn Earth to ourselves, we were the ones who were going to die for it if it turned out to be uninhabitable anyway. 

Most people understand this and are happy to take off the damn wristband-tracker-whatever the fuck they are. If everyone on the Ark thinks we died, they won’t follow us and we will finally be free. But Clarke and her stupid boy toy followers are making things way harder than they need to be. They’re being dicks to John, my John. I can’t stand it. 

“Stop it, Murphy! Everyone, you have to stop taking those off, the Ark has to know we’re alive!” Clarke screams at John over the fire. Maybe he is being a little bit intense, not letting anyone get dinner until they allow him to remove the wristband. But it’s for their own good! How can that bitch not see that? 

“No one wants the Ark to know we’re alive, Clarke. We want to be free. We deserve to be free.” He retorts, then turns to everyone, “Do you want to be the Ark's prisoners again? For doing nothing? For saving their asses and getting nothing in return?” He yells, and everyone around boos at Clarke; she and Wells look like they’re about to pop their top. 

She grabs a piece of meat anyways and starts eating, then glares at him. “No rules, right? Screw you, Murphy.” His eyes look like he’s ready to kill her, but I know that look. When he looks murderous, he’s really just sad, or scared, or something. Maybe angry too, maybe a bit murderous, but mostly sad. And that makes me fume. 

I hand my food to John and stand up. Yanking the food back from Clarke, I step right up to her and get in her face. “You know you can’t do that shit. Chaos is good, but you’re just being fucking stupid. He’s helping people, whether you realize it or not. You, Wells, and Finn can all just go on your merry fucking way and find your own food. We’ll get your wristbands later.” She looks like she’s about to throw a punch, but Finn stops her and pulls her away. I’m still fuming, who does she think she is? Finn is right, she is a fucking princess. Wells and Clarke think they get to decide all the rules just because his Daddy and her Mommy are in charge up there. Well, they’re fucking wrong. 

As I sit back down, John gives me back my food. We are both still so pissed off at the whole situation, and not just because of right now. Clarke and those stupid boys are always getting in John’s way. They truly think they can lead us! While I sit here thinking about how fucked up it is, John grabs my hand and brings it up to his lips, planting the softest kiss. I know he’s trying to calm me down, even though he’s just as mad as I am. He’s so fucking sweet. He could be ready to kill someone and when he looks at me or touches me, it is always so soft and loving. He treats me like a queen no matter how he feels. 

I smile at him and when I catch his eyes, I can tell he needs a break. He is trying so hard to keep his cool in front of everyone, but I can tell the frustration of the day and that encounter is getting to him. I quickly shove the last bite of food into my mouth and lead him to our tent with his hand in mine. I’m going to take all of his thoughts and make them melt away, I know just what to do.

The second we get inside, he asks, “Am I doing something wrong?” and I shake my head and smile at him, staring into his gorgeous blue eyes. You may think he likes to take charge with the way he acts around other people, but you’d have it all wrong. He needs the release of not having to make choices. To listen to someone else for a change, have someone else be responsible for him when no one is watching.

“No baby boy, nothing wrong at all. You’re perfect.” I kiss him on the lips, then kiss both of his cheeks, and when I look into his eyes again, I can’t take it. He’s just so hot, standing there and waiting to react to my every move. I kiss him again, harder this time, moving my hands up under his shirt a little to glide my hands along his stomach and chest. He grabs me by my waist and kisses me back deeply, stifling a small moan. I know he wants me. I grin and look up to him, putting my hand on his cheek softly. “What does my good boy want, hm?” 

He bites his lip and looks into my eyes, knowing just the right words to say. “I want to make you feel good, Mistress. I just want to feel you all over me. I want to feel you on my hands, my lips, my tongue, I want to please you with every part of me.” It’s hard for me to keep my composure when he says such yummy words.

“And you can have me. But not yet. Sit on the bed, for now you only get to watch.” He immediately obeys, sitting on the bed with his eyes glued to me. I slowly take off my shirt, much slower than normal, feeling his eyes look over every inch of my stomach, my ribs, my tits, my collarbone and neck, and finally my face again. With my pants, it’s the same thing. I turn around this time though, giving him a full view as I bend over and let him watch every part of my ass and legs become exposed. I peel my underwear off too, giving him just a quick peek of my pussy before standing up and turning around again. 

Instead of letting him touch me like he asked for, I smirk at him, trailing my hands up my stomach and start squeezing my tits, then trailing my fingertips around my nipples until they get hard. I love watching him practically drool, watching his pants get tight, his hands grabbing onto the sheets to stop himself from leaping up and grabbing me.  

I move a hand down my stomach, across my hips, parting my legs just enough to let my hand slip between them. I keep one hand squeezing my tit and sometimes pinching my nipple, letting the other hand glide along my slit, then I start to slowly rub my clit. I lean my head back and moan, wondering just how much this is killing him and enticing him to watch. After maybe a minute or so, I pull my hand back up, stare straight into his eyes, and lick the wetness off of my fingers. His face flushes, and I ask him, “What is it? Do you want a taste too?” 

He stumbles over his words as though he couldn’t get them out fast enough, “Yes, Mistress, please let me taste you.” It makes me feel so warm inside when he says these things. Of course, I’ll give him what he wants. I walk towards him, put a foot up onto the bed to give him a better view, and slide a single finger inside of myself. When I pull it out, it’s glistening. It’s fucking teasing me to do this too, but I love seeing how much he wants me. 

“Open.” I demand as I put my finger up to his lips, and he does so immediately. I slide my finger in his mouth, and he is happy to suck my finger clean. “Good boy, you are so patient. You get to touch me now.” I lay down onto the bed, “Whatever you want to do to start with, baby, you earned it.” 

He climbs on top of me, kissing my neck oh so gently, it almost tickles. He works his way down to my chest, and as he does so, his kisses become more erratic and have more pressure. He gets to my tits, and uses his tongue to circle my nipple, using a hand to follow suit on my other nipple. I close my eyes to fully enjoy the sensations, combing my fingers through his hair as he does this.

After a little bit of this, I feel my wetness and the tingle of desire a bit too intensely. “Okay, I need you on my pussy, right now.” The end of my sentence is almost a growl, I didn’t realize how fucking wet I was until it hit me like a brick wall and I couldn’t wait a single second longer. 

“Yes Mistress, of course.” He scoots back on the bed, wetting two of his fingers using my own juices, sliding one in and pumping a few times before adding the second. He starts kissing my clit, just warming me up as he continues to slowly pump his fingers in and out, just barely curling his fingers up at the last second of every thrust, only a whisper of a touch to my g-spot. Even with how soft he’s being, my breathing quickens. He’s not one to need too much direction on exactly how to please a woman. He doesn’t start off too fast, and he definitely knows where all the good spots are. Whether he’s naturally gifted, or if he’s practiced, I’ve never cared to ask. He’s all fucking mine and that’s the only thing that matters to me. 

“You’re doing so good, baby, you’re such a good boy for me, that’s just right.” I coo at him, making sure every second that he knows just how good he’s making me feel. 

His kisses on my clit slowly turn into kisses with tongue, and that turns into pressing his tongue into me with the tiniest of suction of his lips, letting go with a tiny pop every time. As his kisses change into this, his fingers start working faster, and the second he feels my g-spot swell, he starts fully curving them into that wonderful “come here” motion as he pumps them in and out of me. His tongue gets faster as well, consistent stimulation with suction every few seconds, it’s perfect. I grip the sheets with one hand and his hair in another, unable to control how loud or often I’m moaning. I can barely talk anymore, but I mumble out a “Good boy, just like that!” 

It only takes a couple of minutes before my orgasm comes to the brink, my legs shaking and the world around me practically spinning as I hit my peak. When it calms down, I grip his hair tighter and pull him up to me in a sloppy kiss, both of us breathing heavily. “Am I making you feel good, Mistress? That was good?” He asks me, and my heart melts. He is probably the only guy in the world to make a girl cum that hard and not be full of himself about it. He wants reassurance that he’s doing things just how I like them. Fuck, I love him. He is going to be mine forever, I swear to God. 

“Yes, you are doing so good, baby boy. I’m going to keep you mine forever. Understand?” I look into his eyes so that he knows that isn’t just pillow talk, that he really is mine. Forever. 

He nods with more enthusiasm than I’ve ever seen, and responds with the same seriousness in his voice that I had in mine. “Yes Mistress, I’m all yours, forever. You own me.” 

I give him one more kiss before switching our positions so that I’m on top of him now. “I need you to be inside me now.” I say as I slowly ease myself onto him, groaning as I feel the fullness inside of me. “It’s my turn to watch as you feel good, baby.” I say soothingly, before adding sternly, “now don’t you dare look away. I want to look into your eyes the whole time I’m making you feel good.”

He bites his lip and nods, almost immediately moaning as I start riding him, slowly at first, moving my hips up and down, then back and forth, then a mixture of them all, in a circle. I love watching the sweat slowly build in his hair, watching the muscles on his chest and abs clench as I make him feel so good. I place my hand on his chest to give me better leverage to go faster, faster, and stop right as I see he is starting to get closer to his orgasm. 

Disappointment flickers in his eyes, but only for a moment, he knows I’m never going to fully deny him. He’s too beautiful and perfect to truly be mean. I lean down to give him a kiss, before whispering into his ear. “Now, you’re going to make me cum again. I’m going to stay still, and you are going to fuck me like this, exactly how I tell you to.” 

“Yes Mistress, I want to make you cum on me. Please tell me what you want.” He begs and I groan quietly, he’s too fucking good. 

I straighten back up and tell him to start off slow, which he does. He keeps his hands on my waist to help him gain leverage, and I trail my fingers along his chest and tell him constantly how good he’s doing, how much he’s pleasing me. I tell him to go faster, then to slow down, then to go deeper and harder, then faster, then slow again. He follows along with my words perfectly. I like to work myself up to the edge, not too fast, I want to enjoy every moment of this. But when I notice he is getting a little tired, I tell him to speed up and fuck me as hard as he can. 

My nails dig into his chest as I cum, my head falling back as I moan and my legs squeeze against his sides, making it harder for him to continue fucking me but he pushes through. When I look back down at him I smile at his flushed face, “Stop, baby. You can stop. You are such a perfect fuck toy. Now it’s finally your turn.” 

I start riding him again, keeping up with the quick pace and making sure I’m going all the way down, pushing all of him inside me with every hip thrust. I love watching him pant and whimper as he gets close to the edge. “Mistress, please, I-I-I’m close!” he says with urgency, and I get off of him and immediately jerk him off, keeping the pace as I watch him cum all over himself, biting my lip as I watch.

“Look at what a mess you’ve made, baby.” I tease, making him blush a little bit but he knows I’m not mad. I just love watching him make a mess everywhere, especially on himself. I quickly grab a rag and clean him up, first wiping the sweat off his brow and then cleaning up his chest. 

I lay down next to him, propping myself up on my elbow. I kiss him all over his face, a million times practically, whispering in a soothing voice “You are such a good boy,” and “You did such a wonderful job,” and “It’s all over now baby, I love you so much.” and “I’ll be right here to care for you, always.” in between the kisses being peppered all over his face. He snuggles into me, and I am happy to hold him, regulating my own breathing in order to help him regulate his. 

I stroke his hair, humming softly in a soothing lullaby I forgot the words to a long time ago, every once in a while kissing the top of his head. After a while, he looks up at me and asks, “Did you really mean it, that I’m yours forever? Because.. I want to be. I always want to be yours, Y/N. Always.”

I smile back at him, my heart melting all over again. “Whatever would I do without you, John? I love you.” 

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#john murphy fic #john murphy fanfic #john murphy the 100 #the 100 john murphy #john murphy #john murphy smut #the 100 smut #john murphy fanfiction #the 100 fanfiction #john murphy fics #the 100 fic #the 100 fanfic #the 100 #john murphy x reader smut #fanfic smut #fanfiction smut #smut #female reader #x reader #fem reader #x female reader #fanfiction writing #fanfic writing #fanfiction #fanfic #sub!murphy #sub!john murphy #dom!reader #reader pov #john murphy x reader

[leftingbadly]

to be loved. | john murphy

a reassurance of an old demon, unhealed wounds that resurface and those that battle with them.

pairing: John murphy x ofc

-;

She was nestled deep into the comforting warm of the couch, the background noise of an old vinyl set played softly in the distance to a tune that made her forget, somehow momentarily, somehow gracefully, of all that she and her friends had been through.

Her skin felt soft to the touch in a way she couldn’t remember feeling it before, a hot shower and soap held a wonder of magic she had naively taken for granted back on the arc. The thought of the big metal ship floating in space involuntarily had her quickening her breathing, she thought of her time spent with her mother and father, those horrible moments she had had to endure when she wasn’t studying in the classrooms for the future career she would be placed in, she thought about her friends in the gardens, where she had spent the better half of her time learning about the plants and their uses, best of all was the time she spent on the ground after she had stepped off that drop ship for the first time, the sharp smell of fresh oxygen that never felt like it was stolen, the sound of life without the pollution of any machine hum.

“You’re doing it again,” Her attention was caught by the boy that entered the room, damp hair clinging to his face as he vigorously tried to dry the wetness that still clung to him from his shower, “You look like a goat, staring off into the distance like that.”

“Words every girl is desperate to hear, Murphy.” She opened the blanket that rested on her as an invitation for him and he took it, resting his body on hers as he settled between her legs. She took the small hand-towel from him and passed it through his hair while he littered soft kisses onto her neck as if he were whispering secrets.

Moments passed like this as he kissed her skin and she ran her fingers across his cheek, his jaw and then to the scar on his neck, her fingers stopped when she felt his body go rigid and his kisses ceased. He sighed then, and got up from his position on her body, the cold abandonment of warmth that left her with his retreat did little in comparison to the look in his eyes.

“Murphy-“

“I don��t want to talk about it.”

“You never want to talk about it!”

She sat up on the couch, facing his tense form as he stood as far from her as he could.

“Because there’s nothing to fucking talk about, what do you want me to say? I’m sorry that I have this fucking ugly mark on my neck? I’m sorry that I survived, that every day you have to look at me and see a murderer? The fact that I murdered a little girl, huh, is that what you want to fucking talk about?”

“That’s not fair, you know I didn’t mean that, Murphy.”

“Then what the fuck do you want from me?” He screamed the last part; as if it was a question he had asked himself a hundred times over without any solution. As if he failed to understand why someone like her would want anything to do with someone like him and that, despite everything, he was still too selfish a person to push her away.

“I want you trust me!” That wasn’t what he expected. “I want you to know that you can trust me, I want you to talk to me about it because- because I want you to know that it isn’t just you against the world anymore, okay? It isn’t just you. I- I want you to know that as much as you have me, I’ve got you. That every time you wake up at night, and you reach for your throat and you breathe so deeply like you’re trying to inhale all the air around you, that you can turn to me and ask me to hold you. What happened with Charlotte…” She never missed the way his knuckles tightened,” What happened with her was terrible, but it wasn’t your fault she jumped from that cliff, John Murphy. That’s something you seem so damn set on forgetting.” She wished he’d open his eyes and see the truth in hers. “I want you…” She heaved the weight from her chest and put it into the words she so desperately wanted him to hear, “I want you to know that you’re loved. More than anything I want you to know that.”

She must’ve missed how close he’d gotten through her blurry eyes, but the hand on her cheek left nothing to be doubted as he held her face in his hands and wiped her tears and through clearer eyes she noticed the blurriness of his, he was crying too. And he was staring at her in a way that made her heart form a hole inside her chest, she’d never seen him look at her like that before, or maybe he had but she’d never seen it, either way, it left her breathless.

He was shaking his head at her, as if he was trying to tell her he wasn’t worth the tears she spent over him, or the pain she so obviously felt trying to get him to just see how much he meant to her.

He didn’t know what to do, or what to tell her that would make her understand that, okay, I heard you, and I love you too. So he brought her face closer, and he placed a singular, soft kiss onto her forehead. It meant; I love you. It also meant, I trust you, wholly, and completely.

She pulled away first, and she stared into his eyes to ground herself, to bring her back to the reality that he was standing in front of her, and they were standing in the living room of long abandoned home, and that he was holding her so tenderly she felt that she might shatter if he said he loved her out loud.

She grabbed his head and pulled him closer still, and she whispered, “I want you to know that the world had more to give you than the pain you have suffered.” And she gifted him one, sweet, tender kiss to the marks on his neck, and he exhaled so greatly as if he was relieving the pain again, “And I want you to believe that when you receive love, you are worthy of it.”, but this time when he opened his eyes it was her staring back at him, and there was so much love in it that he couldn’t help but believe her.

#John murphy #the 100 #John murphy x reader #John murphy x ofc #John murphy fanfiction #John murphy imagine #fluff #tv show #bbc #authors #tv series #Bellamy blake #the100edit #John murphy drabble #clarke griffin #John murphy the 100

[taurushobbit]

this is murphy to me

#john murphy #john murphy the 100 #the 100 #personal

[gayforoctaviablake]

Not gonna lie, I'd take the chip to the city of light in a fkin heartbeat.

"how's your arthritis"

Gone bitch

"hey how do you feel about (insert person who led me on for 3 YEARS)"

Blissfully, WHO?

#john murphy #the 100 #the 100 bellamy #the 100 john murphy #the 100 x reader #octavia blake #jadper jordan #monty green #clarke x lexa #lexa imagine #the 100 season 3 #city of light #clarke griffin #bellamy x reader #the 100 bellamy blake #John Murphy the 100

[freikdreinaslaw]

Spot the difference:

#john murphy #john murphy the 100 #Murphy #Murphy the 100 #cockroach #my favourite little cockroach #bellamy blake #clarke griffin #Octavia Blake #lexa kom trikru #John Murphy is a little shit

[luna-jaden-shadow]

Talk Smack, Get Smacked

Request - I loved Bi pride with John Murphy! It was amazing! Could you please write an imagine with Murphy in season 1 era where one of the delinquents is talking bad about reader and Murphy beats them up and reader helps to clean up Murphy’s wounds and they kiss and it’s very soft? ❤️🥰

Angst/Fluff 

Warnings -  Violence, Blood, Cursing?, Other(?)

Pairing - John Murphy X Reader

-><-

-><-

“Does Y/n ever stop talking?”

“I know, right? They’re annoying as hell. Like, shut the hell up for once.”

What?

The moment he heard your name get mentioned, he was tuned into their conversation. He’d heard bits and pieces before because of how loud they were talking but didn’t care until they mentioned you. It was no secret to the camp that the two of you were an item with the way that he paraded you around at his side for laughs. You two are together more often than not, which had everyone teasing, “where’s your better half?” every time they see Murphy alone. 

So it was a huge mistake on their part to start talking shit right beside Murphy, who has a history of beating up fellow members of the 100. Murphy’s eyes shift from his current task and move towards the pair that are standing a little bit away from him. The two boys laugh to each other, neither noticing Murphy’s threatening glare as they continue to bad mouth his partner. 

“And them being with Murphy? You’d have to be brain dead to go for that jerk.”

Murphy’s eye twitched, his blood boiling as his anger towards the two rises. Who did these nobodies - these expendable idiots - think they were to be talking about you like that? You who helps out all the time around the camp. You’re out there when a hunting party goes out; you check the spike walls nearly every night, you do whatever Bellamy or Clarke asks of you; you’re the model survivor. So for the life of him, he couldn’t understand why they were talking about you like you were worthless cause he’s pretty sure this place would spiral if it weren’t for you. 

“They’re a whore; I heard they messed around with a couple of guy-”

That was enough for Murphy to justify his actions later when Bellamy would yell at him for what he was about to do to these poor kids. In front of the whole camp, Murphy punches one of them clean across the face, knocking the kid to the ground with little effort. Heads turn and eventually, a crowd forms around them as Murphy fights the two of them. 

You, of course, had caught on to the crowd forming and curiously joined in, trying to get a glimpse of what was going on. Bellamy could be heard shouting from the dropship for them to break it up. You weren’t shocked to see that it was Murphy who was fighting in the circle. What had shocked you was how well he held up against the two of them and ended up with the two of them on the floor. By the time Bellamy was at the front of the crowd, Murphy had one of them by the collar of their shirt and was laying into them. 

“You talk about them ever again!” He shouts at the kid, punishing him again despite Bellamy’s yelling for him to stop. “I’m gonna beat you to death next time you hear me?” The kids nod and Murphy pushed the one he’s holding back on the ground before standing up. The crowd starts to disperse and Bellamy basically drags him away instantly before he got to see your reaction. 

The next time you see Murphy he’s tending to the little wounds he sustained in the fight. Little words are exchanged when you take the cloth from him and clean his wounds. “What happened?” You ask him, eyes not leaving the cuts on his knuckles. 

Murphy doesn’t look up either, huffing out a breath. “They were talking shit.” Is all he says and you glance up at him, reaching up to brush back his hair from his face. 

There’s a cut on his cheek which makes you tilt his head up to clean it. “So you beat them up?” He just hums and you smile, leaning down and pecking his lips. “You kicked ass from what I saw.”

Murphy smirks, living for the ego boost that was just handed to him. “Damn right I kicked their asses.” He reaches out, wrapping his arms around your waist as you stand in front of him, pulling you closer to him as he kisses you again. “Talk smack, get smacked.”

“That your catchphrase now?” 

“Shut up.”

#the 100 #the 100 x reader #john murphy #john murphy fluff #john murphy the 100 #ask #request #fluff #reader insert #x reader

[tubbsduck]

Some The100 art of my two favorite characters. I really hate that they killed Jasper but I heard they were supposed to kill him in season one so at least he was around for a while longer. And Murphy has had such a character growth that it's crazy. He needs a hug. It's not great art just a quick version but I think it captures them pretty well.

#the 100 #john murphy #jasper jordan #john murphy the 100 #jasper #i will kill for them #comfort characters

[maysileeewrites]

a helping hand - John Murphy x Reader || teaser

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

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

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

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

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. Just when’s almost free of his shirt, he hisses, his face screwing up in pain. 

„Let me“, you say, helping him. 

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

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

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

[sleepershell]

the first roach I’ve seen in the sky

#john murphy the 100 #john murphy #moodboard #the 100 #murphy the 100

[maddymoonfics]

An Unlikely Friendship

Requested; No

Preseason one

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What can I do to help?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then when can we get something strong enough?”

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I heard what happened I—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he stepped back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[pogueswrld]

Can you please do 68. “ Your back is so tense. Would you like a massage? With John murphy please? Maybe drop ship era?

ask and you shall receive 🫡 although this ask has been sent to me months ago and I only started writing it last night 🫣

*•.¸♡ love confessions ♡¸.•*

pairing: john murphy x fem!reader

summary: after a long day on camp, murphy's tense and only wants to be around his best friend. After spending some time together, he starts questioning if she should tell her about his feelings for her. Maybe he should just act on them. After all, actions speak louder than words, right?

warnings: none really, mostly fluff. forehead kisses, love confessions, he fell first and she fell harder. overall really soft yk

note: reader and murphy have been friends since childhood, okie? okie

y/n has always been Murphy’s partner in crime. From the moment they locked eyes in the Ark’s cafeteria that fateful day when they were twelve years old. They’ve never parted each other’s side since. You would never see one without the other. If the trouble found one, you’d know the other was sure to follow.

It didn’t come as a surprise to anyone that when John Murphy’s arrest traveled through the spaceship, y/n’s was coming soon after. And by some strange consequences of the universe’s desire, the pair ended up in cells right beside one another.

It could be the dead of night, and you’d hear the pair chatting through the metal walls separating them. You’d find them gossiping or sharing information they gathered on some of the guards. They’d spend every waking moment together. They made it a point to share a lunch table with just the two of them.

When a couple of guards took John for his daily Earth Skills lesson and never brought him back, y/n started banging on the doors. She was scared of the thought that they’d done something to him, or if he did something stupid that would end him up in solitary lock-up. Or even worse; they’d floated him early.

His 18th birthday wasn’t for a few more months, and she was supposed to go first anyway.

She was near tears and still banging at the doors and screaming for someone to tell her where John was when guards unlocked the door and pushed her back against the wall. Silently shoving her to stay still and placing the metal bracelet around her wrist before forcefully dragging her out of her cell and into a line with all the other kids in the Skybox.

That’s how she ended up on Earth, and with John still.

The oldest on camp, some guy named Bellamy, recruited John and a couple of his friends to run the place. y/n didn’t necessarily agree with John’s methods, but he was still her friend and she was always there for him at the end of the day.

She was already in their shared tent (which they had both agreed to since there were around 100 kids in this camp and not nearly enough resources for all of them) when he strutted in. He paused by the tent’s zip door, watching the way she buried her hands in her hair and softly rubbed at her scalp. Her jacket and top were discarded somewhere and the thin tank top she wore underneath them was barely doing its job of covering her. John’s eyes remained on the muscles of her shoulder blades, the way they moved with each flex of her arms. He was mesmerized.

But this was his best friend, and he wasn’t about to make this weird. So he cleared his throat and continued on his way to his assigned side of the makeshift bed they’d been sleeping in. y/n turned to him, noting the way his storm cloud eyes seemed sunken in, his tense shoulders, and his hollowed cheekbones. Her brows furrowed in worry, huddling together between her eyes.

She turned completely to face him, “What’s up with you?”

John shifts his eyes to her face, he had been dozing off to nothing. He scanned her face. She somehow seemed so much prettier than she was that morning. With glowing skin and more defined lips, she looked ethereal in the muffled light of their tent.

“What?” He mumbled, realizing that she had asked him a question and he dozed off staring at her, his eyes jumping from one feature of hers to the next.

She smiled, an action so soft and gentle it made his heart drum. “What’s up with you John? Are you okay?”

He had no idea what she was saying, but he was watching her lips move. He hummed, no idea to what, and slightly nodded. y/n quickly caught up. She knew her best friend, and he only disconnected from reality when it was too much for him.

She sighed and crawled across the bed, she sat behind him. Her hand gently climbed up his tensed back before coming to rest on his shoulders. She let out a sigh before letting her hands climb lower to his chest, her arms coming to hold him from behind as her chin rested on his right shoulder.

John leaned back his head, resting it on her shoulder, and slightly closed his eyes.

“Your back is so tense. Would you like a massage?” y/n mumbled softly. She didn’t want to interrupt the gentle atmosphere they’d created in their little bubble. He hummed.

She slowly pulled back until her hands came to his shoulders again. She let her thumb work in a circular motion on the pressure points of his shoulder blades as the rest of her fingers worked on squeezing the muscle. John breathed a sigh from his nose, his tense back slowly slouching in her hold. She let her hands climb lower, pushing and rubbing at his back until he was at complete ease.

She only let go when his head lulled back to face her with both of his eyes closed. She smiled and gently pressed a kiss to his forehead that shot both of his eyes open to meet her glowing ones. Her smile forced her eyes to squint in the cutest way, and John pulled himself back together before turning to face her.

He sighed and made a show of cracking his back and neck, which she cringed at. “Ew, stop that.” He chuckled, “I’ll get you to do it one day.” She pulled one side of her lips upward in disgust, “Yeah, as if.”

Silence washed over them as they both adjusted their positions so they were more comfortable facing one another. The noise of the kids in camp was drowned out by the crackling fire, and everything smelled of burnt wood. The teens had their eyes locked on one another without a single word passing between them, and they didn’t need any.

For the longest time, y/n thought about her feelings for John. What they meant for the both of them, and how they’d change their dynamic if she was to ever speak of them. Unbeknownst to her, he was thinking the same.

John remembers the first time he felt his heart race to something y/n did for him. She had punched a kid and broken his nose after trying to bully John, she wasn’t having it. He had kept his eyes glued to her, a small splatter of blood tainted her cheeks from the blow of her hit, and she turned to him with a grin that made his stomach drop. They were fourteen.

y/n knew she cared for John more than just a friend when they broke the law for the first time together. Stealing candy from the main kitchen and chewing at them within the air ventilators to steer clear from the guards. The adrenaline pumping through her had her clutching to him and when they both calmed down, she realized he had his arm wrapped around her waist and his hand holding her tightly to him. It burned her face. They were fifteen.

Then again when she traded some of that candy for weed from Jasper and Monty. In the haze of the high, Murphy looked more handsome than the ridiculously boyish she’s grown to know. It made her realize just how much they had grown and how much closer they had gotten. Both emotionally and physically. He was leaning in to kiss her, and she was going to let him, had she not panicked. They were sixteen.

She wasn’t quite ready for their relationship to change back then. And even though it had been a year and some, she believed she still wasn’t. But the way he looked at her then, with his beautiful storm cloud eyes, dissecting every piece of her and trying to claw at her mind to guess her thoughts, she thought about how ready she was.

They were aching to hold each other, but neither one was ready to make the first move, fear paralyzing their every move. Just when the ache got too much to handle, when his heart tugged painfully in his chest, begging him to reach out and hold her hands, to wrap his own around hers, to pull her close enough to smell the burnt wood on her, to keep her close enough to feel her heat radiate into his own, John turned away from her. And somehow that was worse.

Unlike John, y/n was completely present when she was drowning in her thoughts. She saw the conflict of whatever he was thinking about clearly on his face. She saw the way his content expression fell and his lips pulled themselves into a pout. She noticed the way his hand moved from their place on his thigh to his chest, trying so hard to discreetly rub at where his heart sat within his ribcage.

She wished she had his ability to contain himself. She doesn’t. Which was why she was the one to reach out, to hold his hand and push herself closer to him, to rub at the back of his hands and try so hard to not kiss him. 

She was concerned for him though, which was why she held the hand against his heart with furrowed brows, “What’s wrong?” She whispered, her thumb still caressing the space between his thumb and index. Her worried tone brought tears to his eyes, and for once, tough and bad John Murphy whimpered.

She immediately wrapped her hands around his shoulders, holding him tightly as if he were broken pieces of glass that if she held tight enough would be able to glue themselves back together, and it broke his heart.

He remembers the day he heard that she’d been arrested. He had never felt such fear course through him, and it wasn’t the same kind of fear as when he lost his father, this was far more intense and terrifying. He kept asking for her, asking about her, the need for answers made him scream at the door of his cell until Kane showed up at his cell to tell him of her crime and that she will also be held in the Skybox.

She was older than him, so he knew he was going to lose her before she lost him. And the idea petrified him. He cried about it to her once, and she cradled him like she was doing now, silently and gently. He promised himself that, since they were both set to die in a year’s time, he wasn’t going to contain himself when it came to her. He wanted to stand bare before her, tell her everything he’s ever thought of her, tell her everything he’s ever felt for her. Yet somehow they go to live, and he still wanted to hold up that promise.

So he pulled up his head and stared her square in the eye, and even though there were tears trickling down his cheeks, he still looked as pretty as ever. y/n cupped his cheeks and wiped away his tears, her eyes pooling her own as she held them back.

John inhaled a deep breath and blinked his tears away, “I love you.” He mumbled, his face barely inches away from her own, and a fierce look in his eyes. Immediately, she knew exactly what he meant, but the shock of it made her blink rapidly back at him. “What?” She breathed.

“I love you, y/n. I’ve been in love with you since we were kids. I’ve loved you from the moment you stepped into my life. I’ve loved you every time you punched a kid for me. I’ve loved you every time you irritated the shit out of me. I’ve loved you every time you pulled away when I tried to kiss you. I loved you when I thought I was going to lose you, and I love you still. I love you.”

y/n’s lips had parted, and her eyes darted back and forth between his. “I’m so sick of holding that back, of not loving you the way I want to, and if you don’t feel the same way that’s fine, but please don’t pull away from me now.” And he leaned into her, his hand grabbing hold of one of her hands and pressing it against his chest to feel his drumming heart as his face slowly closed the gap that stood between them for years. Then, his lips softly pressed onto hers.

From the moment he had started talking, fireworks had gone off within her at an erratic pace, her heart raced against her thoughts and blood rushed all throughout her body. When she felt his lips lock onto hers, she was gone. Her mind blanked, her eyes closed, her hand clutched at his shirt, and she kissed him back with the same gentleness, scared to scare him off. When he tried to pull away, to look at her, the hand that had been cupping his face held him tighter. She held his face with both of her hands before pulling him back to her lips, kissing him with a burning passion that reassured him more than any words ever could.

And finally, they were loving each other the way they had wanted. The ache in his heart dimmed to nothing as his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her close enough to his lap. She straddled him and slowly pulled away from his bruised lips. They remained silent as they caught their breaths, their eyes closed in worry that this might just be another dream. But then he chuckled lightheartedly, and she followed.

John opened his eyes and stared at her, nothing but love and adoration sparkling in his gray orbs, and the happiest smile y/n had ever seen on him tugged at his lips. She grinned back at him, her teeth burying themselves in her bottom lip and he sighed. “I love you too, you know.” She mumbled, giggling slightly. “I can never give a little speech like yours though, but I love you so much.” John barked a laugh at her words then nodded.

“Can I kiss you again?” He asked.

She melted in his hold, “Yes, and please don’t stop this time.”

#john murphy #john murphy the 100 #john murphy imagine #john murphy x reader #the 100 #john murphy smut #bellamy blake

[klarieona]

Murphy high as fuck: I might be high as fuck but I’m pretty sure Jesus is in the corner of me room

Raven dressed up as Jesus: rest now my child

#Raven and Murphy being bffs #John Murphy the 100 #raven reyes the 100 #TikTok #the 100 #the 100 being childish #incorrect the 100 quotes

[twirlywhirlywriting]

Masterlist

This is my masterlist of my own writings. As of right now, I don't have very many but there will be more to come!

John Murphy (The 100)

Little Tease (Smut)

Good Girl (Smut)

What Would I Do Without You? (Smut)

Eddie Munson (Stranger Things)

Consequences of Being a Brat (Smut)

#masterlist #John Murphy #The 100 #Smut #John Murphy smut #The 100 Smut #fanfiction smut #fanfiction writing #fanfic writing #fanfiction #fanfic #the 100 fic #the 100 fanfic #the 100 john murphy #the 100 fanfiction #john murphy fanfiction #john murphy fics #john murphy fic #john murphy fanfic #john murphy the 100 #fanfic smut #john murphy x reader smut #female reader #x reader #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x Reader #Eddie Munson Fanfic #Stranger Things #Stranger Things Fanfic #Stranger Things Eddie Munson