OOC POST!!!! long post about my personal opinions about murphy and sex. soo cw..sexual talk.
so, something i see a lot of is murphy being into violence with sex and also being really good at it. personally, i disagree on both of those.
now, according to the wiki, richard harmon has said he thinks murphy’s dad died when he was 10, his mother a couple years later, resulting in his arrest happening at 13. if we go by that, hes been in the sky box for four years. almost his entire teenage life. i dont really know what the conditions were like there but i dont think there was a lot of opportunity for some proper sex. maybe he got handsy with some people at most. i assume the cells were separated by gender which means he was in with other young boys, and we dont really know the culture around queerness was on the ark but personally im not very optimistic. teenage boys are some of the most ruthless perpetrators of homophobia. murphy seems like a pretty traditionally masculine guy, and honestly i wouldnt put it past him to make a couple of backhandedly homophobic remarks. not like calling someone a fag outright but he’s definitely made some distasteful jokes. also the flashbacks of earth skills classes in s3 show him making a jab to harper, and overall just doesn’t seem like he’s genuinely popular with girls. to me he kinda feels like a huge twat.
when the 100 go down, murphy establishes himself with bellamy. it’s clear that bellamy is the ladies man of the group. murphy isn’t hated but he isn’t quite liked, and i just don’t get the impression that people are falling over themselves to sleep with him. i do find him very pretty, but he kinda gives weird loner vibes, and also is an ass which imo his looks aren’t enough to save him from.
he’s a prick and pretty selfish, i imagine sex with him is not about pleasing you. but the thing is, i don’t think he’d be mean about it he just wouldn’t care. and he doesn’t know what he’s doing at all. something i think fics get right is that it’s messy and quick, but especially when it comes to afab folks bro is not taking the time do foreplay. i just don’t believe that he knows what to do, especially not with his hands. another thing is despite the fact that he displays sadistic behavior i don’t think he wants to hold a knife against you while you’re having sex. the most harm i think he’d /intentionally/ do is just like toss you around a little roughly. if anything it’s the power he gets off on, not so much the pain. as much as i enjoy a fic where he’s beating the shit out of bellamy or getting choked while he gets fucked, i think it’s really out of character for him. honestly i think he’s pretty vanilla. that is if you even have sex. which brings me to my next point. if you don’t want to read spoilers then skip this last part of the paragraph. when he meets emori, he’s immediately taken with her. he has no other love interest besides her. he kisses her like a starving man, and he’s devoted to her from the beginning. i think with that as a result of that sex goes from being a release to an emotional act. as for other sexual encounters, yes he sneaks glances at ontari, but would you kill me for saying he’s just a guy. and they have sex, but she forced that upon him, he objected on grounds of emori. he’s the most gentle with her. while i think he’s a crude person when it comes to sex, i don’t think he’s the type to sleep around. maybe a make out late at night, coming in his pants or something, but i highly doubt it.
spoilers over
as much as i like to have fun and play around, I don’t think murphy would give himself over like that willy nilly with just anyone. despite sex being a very emotionally removed thing for him it is nonetheless a very vulnerable thing, and hes been stuck alone with his trauma for so many years, he wouldn’t open himself up that easily to somebody, not unless he liked them a lot. which we see with emori. even with her, it still took them a bit to pass that physical line.
tldr, in my heart murphy is honestly kind of vanilla (though emori might change that) and pretty inexperienced, and anything but a slut. bellamy is canonically a bigger slut than he could ever be. but nevertheless, i don’t mind doing this with you all, its fan service and i have a good time. thank you for reading if you got this far!’ and if you have any thoughts about him yourself please share them below!!!!
Request: hey, writing this request to you will take a lot of energy out of me because I’m socially so fucking anxious I can’t even text a stranger online so please go easy on me?/ could you write something where the reader is a grounder already living in the lighthouse bunker, so she sees Murphy passed out and wounded on the beach where jaha left him so she wakes him up or tries to drag him inside and takes care of him. but they still get locked in and maybe they fall in love with each other?
A/N: i love u, sorry it took so long to post this request but i love the idea and hope u like what i’ve come up with
masterlist
The sun shines onto your face as you step outside of the lighthouse bunker, feeling the fresh air cleanse your face. Nature often has a restoring effect on you and you wonder how lucky you are to be able to live where you do; away from any clans or leaders.
You gaze upon the shore, admiring the tiny waves stretching beyond the cover of fog in the distance. Serenity washes over you as you walk towards the ocean.
Murphy lays on the ground, breathing lightly. He’s unconscious, the only movement being his chest rising up and down. The sight of the stranger stops you in your tracks.
You waste no time in running up to him, kneeling beside the bruised and beaten boy. Shaking him slightly, you place your hand on his neck and feel the steady pulse. He’s alive.
“Hey, hey!” You call to him, slapping his face repetitively but gently. His eyes open slightly with exhaustion. “I’m here to help you but you need to get up. Please.”
Maybe he hears the urgency in your voice. Or maybe he realises how weak and close to death he feels after Jaha’s beating. Whatever the reason, the mysterious boy says nothing, barely even opens his eyes and does as you say. He stumbles up with your help and you lead him back to the lighthouse.
“You’re doing good. It’s not too far now.” You assure him. Adjusting him on your side, you help him up the small incline with great difficulty. You can feel him begin to walk himself which means he’s waking up. Turning to him, you place a hand on his chest in case he decides to pass out again.
“You okay?” You wonder, looking at his fluttering eyes.
He furrows his eyebrows, eyes narrowed at you. “Who’re you?”
Raising your brows, you look him up and down. “I should be asking that to you. You’re on my island.” You retort, stepping up the incline.
“Your island?” He repeats, lifting his aching head to look around at the gigantic stature that is the lighthouse.
“I’m the only one who lives here.” You tell him, walking past the threshold of your house. “I found you on the shore, practically half dead. Here.” You state, gently laying him down on the couch. “Don’t move.”
“Couldn’t even if I tried, sweetheart.” He smirks, aching at the sharp pain along his ribs.
You hold your breathe at the nickname, not actually being used to hearing another person address you endearingly. It’s been so long since you’ve been on your own.
Pausing at your first aid kit, you shake the thoughts away from your head and grab the disinfectant and bandaids for the gash on his cheek. “So,” he begins, looking around the bunker, “why are you helping me?”
You pause again, this time to turn and walk to him. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“You’re a grounder.” He states, as if it’s obvious.
Opening the kit, you retrieve a cloth and soak it with disinfectant liquid. “Is that supposed to mean something bad?”
He shrugs, just sits there watching you with his big light eyes. “No. Just that our people hate one another. I assume you didn’t get the message that we’re on the edge of a war.”
Gently placing the cloth to his cheek, you shake your head. “I guess I didn’t.”
He hisses, instinctively grabbing your wrists with a strong grip. It burns but the pain subsides and he looks ashamed. “Sorry.” He lets go of your hands, settling to bite the inner corner of his lip.
“Don’t worry.” You tell him, wiping the blood from his defined cheek before opening a bandaid to place there. “Where else are you hurt?”
“Nowhere, sweetheart. Just a bit bruised.” He assures you, sitting up and holding his head as it aches.
“How did you get here?” You wonder, in awe of the first person you’ve seen in years. No one ever comes to this island.
He looks at you suspiciously, “You ask a lot of questions.”
Giving him and small smile, you sit beside him. “What’s your name?”
He smiles back, holding his hand out. “John Murphy but everyone just calls me Murphy. Who are you?”
“Other than your rescuer, my names Y/N.” You make him chuckle quietly, taking his hand and shaking it. You’re about to say something else but a loud noise rips your attention away from him.
Looking towards the door, you turn just in time to catch a glimpse of it slamming shut. Letting go of his warm hand, you jump up and rush to the door. “What the hell is going on?” He asks, his voice lower and harsher than it was ten seconds ago.
“I-I don’t know.” You admit, pushing on the door with all your strength. It doesn’t budge.
“How can you not know?” He asks, pushing on it with you, “You live here.” His voice raises volume when he realises even he can’t push it open. It’s a full force of steel.
“It’s never done this, I-“
Pushing you against the door itself, Murphy places his hand at the base of your throat. Not close enough to hurt, just close enough to scare the living daylights out of you. “What sick game are you playing?” He snarls, feeling the veins in his temples swell with panic. “Who put you up to this? Jaha?”
“Who? What? I didn’t do this, John.” You shake your head vigorously, your eyes wide with just as much panic and fear as his. “You have to believe me.”
“Well, somehow I just don’t.” He replies, cold and harsh, “It’s not funny anymore, open the door.” Your hand goes to his, resting there as you look him in the eyes.
“John,” you begin, “This is a doomsday bunker. I’ve lived here thinking it’s inactive, why would I want to be locked in here with a stranger? I. Didn’t. Do. This.”
He looks into your eyes, listening to the sincerity in your voice, and he decides you’re telling the truth. Most likely, anyways. “Shit.” He curses violently, letting you go as his chest rises and falls along with yours. His fingers gently graze your neck as he retrieves his hand. His mind races a thousand miles an hour.
Another click is heard, making your stomach sink. “Containment doors sealed.”
Murphy begins banging on the door, his eyes wide with fear as he realises the doors may never open again. “C’mon, c’mon!”
The whole house seems to be going crazy, the lights flicker on and off and you hear the shouting of a distant voice. “Chris! Chris?!”
You both share a look - a look of shock and desperation - before running towards the sound coming from the television in the lounge room. Your eyes are wide, never knowing that this black rectangle was still in use. It’s more than 100 years old.
You stand beside Murphy, both of you watching with anticipation as two men run up to another man in a red cardigan, who is passed out on the exact couch you’re standing beside.
The men mumble to one another but the one thing you hear clear as day is “That son of a bitch let A.L.L.I.E out.” Murphy paces up to the screen, his eyes wide as he watches on as if he’s engrossed in the story.
Looking beside the couch to see the shining of the small handgun beside it. Picking it up, you watch him with wide eyes. “John.” You step away from him, not sure about what he’s going to do next.
Placing the gun in the back pocket of his jeans, Murphy stands up and removes his thick jacket. He begins grabbing things from your house, using heavy objects in attempts to break open the door. Many days pass like this, in a blur of loud crashes of metal upon metal and Murphy screaming in frustration.
One day, almost a month after you first met, you walk up to his crouched figure to place a hand on his bare shoulder. He flinches away, turning to look at you. His eyes are wet and red from him staying up all night.
“Murphy, you need to sleep.” You tell him, calling him by his last name after he got mad at your constant use of his real one.
“What’s the worst that could happen, sweetheart?” He stands, taking a step closer to you so that his bare chest is almost touching yours, “I’m already locked in a bunker with no contact to the outside world.” Pushing past you, Murphy knocks your shoulder and you feel your built up anger burst.
“Fuck you, Murphy.” You shout, turning around to push him back. After a month of being stuck with him, his rude remarks, his kind remarks, his conflicting nature, you’ve had enough. “I’m stuck here, just as much as you are!” You shout, pushing his chest back once more.
“You’re the reason I’m stuck here!” He steps towards you, shouting in your face.
Your chest rises and falls with deep anger, making you not care about anything that happens next. “I SAVED YOUR LIFE!”
“AND YOU RUINED IT!” He replies, his troubled blue eyes find yours and you have nothing left to say, “Now get out of my way.” He orders, making you step aside so he can find his way to a spare bedroom that he’s claimed.
You do so, stepping aside. Your frustration is still present and you feel your senses are overloading at the sound of the T.V still playing videos of ALLIE’s creation. Picking up one of the empty wine bottles that you and Murphy have been leaving around, you hurl it at the screen with a scream, taking pleasure in the way it flickers and dies.
Murphy hears the sound leave and silence appear knocking at his door. He lays in his bed. All he can think about is how he’s never seen you give up like that. You’ve always been positive, always dealt with his negativity.
But today, you were different. It was like something snapped inside of you, something broke. He felt guilty for being the cause of your unhappiness. The lighthouse was silent as Murphy stood up, heading for your bedroom.
Seeing that the light was still on, he knocked, hoping that you would answer. “Y/N, I-”
When he walks in, he sees you fast asleep, curled up with the blanket wrapped around you. You were so tired that you forgot to turn the lamp on. Murphy feels himself smiling and the feeling is foreign.
How can something so precious be caught up in such horror? He walks to your bedside table, turning the light off before he lays down beside you. Immediately, he feels your warmth grow as you snuggle close to his body.
“John.” You whisper, waking up despite your eyes staying closed. Murphy, for once, doesn’t mind the nickname.
“Hey, sweetheart.” He whispers back, letting his arms wrap around your figure, “I want to apologise. For everything.”
You open your eyes, looking at him through the darkness. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”
He chuckles, meeting your eyes. “You don’t deserve to be around someone as negative as me. All I do is bring you down. I know we’re both stuck here. And I hate it because you don’t deserve to be stuck here.” He pulls you closer to him and you breathe happily. “I’m sorry. I’m going to try to be better - nicer. I don’t want to deserve to be here.”
Smiling up at him, you place a hand on his cheek as you kiss the other side of his face. “I accept your apology. I’m sorry for yelling.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t yell at me earlier.” He admits, running his hands up and down your hips, “I’ve been horrible.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “We’re in a horrible situation.” You reply with a shrug, “But I’m sure we’ll get through it.”
Murphy nods, giving you the inklings of a smile as he leans closer to you. For a second you think he’s going to kiss your lips but instead he presses his lips to your forehead, holding you close. That’s how you fall asleep and that’s how you wake up.
Another few weeks later, you feel the effects of famine and dehydration making you dizzy and tired. You’re late to wake up and the only reason you do is because you can’t feel John beside you.
“Murphy?” You call out, knowing that the only place you can use his real name is under the cover of the dark night. Walking to the lounge room, your heart simultaneously breaks and stops. “Murphy?”
He turns to you, tears streaming down his sunken face. He’s skinnier now than how he was when you first met him - both of you are. He doesn’t answer you, just looks back to the gun in his hands.
You slowly walk to him, your eyes wide as tears begin to form. The thought of the warm boy that sleeps beside you suddenly going cold makes you afraid. “Don’t come near me.” He states, making you freeze as soon as you’re in front of him.
“What are you doing?” You inquire, already knowing the answer. Murphy sniffs, wiping the tears from under his eyes. His eyebrows are furrowed and he looks as though he’s thinking something over and over again. “Murphy, you’re scaring me.”
“Go back to your room.” He tells you, not even looking at you.
“No.” You protest, taking another step towards him. He raises the gun underneath his chin and you instinctively shut your eyes tight. “Please, put the gun down.” You whimper.
Murphy sobs, “I can’t do this anymore,” he begins, breathing hysterically, “we’re going to die soon anyways. We’ve run out of food, Y/N. We have nothing left. Nothing.”
“I have you.” You reply quickly, your voice urgent and desperate. “And you have me. We have each other, John.”
Murphy closes his eyes for a few seconds, contemplating. You take this as a chance to move closer to him. He looks at you when he opens his eyes.
“I need you.” You tell him, wiping your own eyes. “I wouldn’t have made it this whole time without you. Please don’t do this, you matter to me. And you’re not alone; you’re strong. You’re stronger than you know.” In the course of your speech, you’ve moved closer to him despite the gun never moving from it’s place under his chin.
He watches you with bated breath as you grow closer to him, pressing your hand against his cheek. “Please.” You whisper, “I need you.” When you place your lips upon his, John lets go of the gun and pushes it aside in order to kiss you back.
The anticipation of the kiss makes you both feel ethereal or like you’ll live forever even though it seems to be the opposite. Pressing your forehead against his, the kiss lasts a long time before a noise breaks you apart.
Both your heads snap to the side. “Containment doors released.”
Jumping up, you both desperately run to the door. Gazing at it for a second, Murphy feels his entire life about to change. With one push, it opens and your senses are overloaded with joy.
The sound of birds from nearby trees greets you as the bright, intense sun shines on the both of you, warming your face. He turns to you, quickly rushing up to you and smashing his lips to yours as he holds both your cheeks in his hands.
Pressing his body against yours, you smile and let out a small laugh as tears of joy stream down your face. “We’re free.” You smile, ignoring the pain of hunger you feel in your stomach, “We’re actually free.”
Murphy looks at you, feeling slightly ashamed that he ever put you in the situation you were in ten seconds ago. “Thank you.” He mumbles, giving you a genuine smile. He doesn’t have to explain it, you know what he means. He’s thanking you for saving his life... twice.
for @cordelia-stark-jones hope you like this honey!
AN: Quiet doesn’t necessarily mean shy or cowardly, and the reader has just about enough of being underestimated like that.
Characters: John Murphy, Bellamy Blake, Clarke Griffin, OC Delinquents
Pairing: Murphy x reader
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Canon non-compliant
--------------------------------
“Morning House Mouse,” Bellamy called as he walked past you and into the dropship, “still not talking I see?”
You rolled your eyes fondly at the older man and went back to work cataloguing all of Clarke’s medical supplies.
“She talks, Bellamy.” Clarke reminded, “She just doesn’t talk to you.”
“Or Mbege, or Atom or Finn or literally anyone who isn’t you.” Bellamy corrected without any real malice.
Things were quiet and peaceful at camp for once, and neither of your leaders were particularly keen on ruining that with more pointless squabbling. Bellamy took his usual seat, lounging on the makeshift couch next to the door, and began giving Clarke his report on the repairs of the wall, namely that progress was slow but it wasn’t a complete waste.
You tuned this conversation out and went back to cataloguing, humming to yourself absentmindedly as you worked. Soon enough, the sound of someone approaching broke you out of your reverie and a familiar face made its way into the dropship.
“Morning Oh Fearless Leaders,“ John Murphy crooned, giving you a sideways smile as he did, “morning Y/N, you’re looking lovely today.”
You blushed and shook your head, “Morning Murphy, still being a complete menace?”
Bellamy choked on his water as sat up, his eyes wide and disbelieving. Seemingly at a loss for words, he pointed between you and Murphy, his eyes watering from the choking.
“You spoke!” he eventually exclaimed, “You spoke! She spoke-did you he-she spoke!” he turned to Murphy, “You made her speak.”
Murphy shrugged and gave you an exaggerated wink. You giggled and went back to your work mumbling ‘menace’ under your breath as you did.
“I told you,” Clarke smiled, “she does talk, just not to you.”
Bellamy made an indignant noise and began to argue with Clarke. You tuned this out as well, too used to this kind of good natured debate to be really worried. Murphy leant his elbows on the counter you were working on and watched for a while. This also wasn’t unusual, but you’d never quite gotten used to looking up and having him so close, it was exhilarating and nerve-wracking all at once.
“You’d think that by now they would’ve just given up and had sex, huh?” he commented casually, gesturing to Bellamy and Clarke with his head.
You made the mistake of looking up and regretted it as soon as his ice-blue eyes met yours and your face flushed bright red again.
Embarrassed, you looked back down and shrugged, “I thought Clarke and Finn were a thing.”
“Oh, they are.” Murphy continued, effortlessly cool and collected, as usual, “but some things are just inevitable. Finn’s too…goody goody for Clarke. She’ll eventually get bored of him and then, voila, the Bellarke moment we’ve all been waiting for.”
You snorted and looked up again, “Bellarke?”
“Yeah, Bellarke,” Murphy explained, leaning closer, ”Bellamy and Clarke, Bellarke. Come on, that’s pretty clever, right?”
You weighed the options in your mind before giving John a bright smile to signify that you agreed.
“Knew you’d see things my way.” He said, obviously pleased, “Listen, come find me later yeah? I feel like you and I haven’t spent much time together recently.” He looked down and, for the first time, looked nervous, scratching the table with his nails to avoid making eye-contact, “I miss you.”
You tried not to smile at that, but put your hand on his comfortingly, “I’ve missed you too. As soon as I’m done we’ll hang out okay? Just like old times.”
Murphy smiled and rapped the wood of the table with his knuckles as he left. You tried to put his smile out of your mind as you worked, chuckling every time Bellamy or Clarke made a particularly witty comment.
The day passed quickly enough and, eventually you relented and began to talk to Bellamy, which made him almost comically happy. He was good company, Bellamy Blake, quick to laugh and generous with his humour, and before long it felt as though you’d always been friends.
“So,” he eventually asked, “what’s with the whole Not Talking thing you do?”
You shrugged, “People tend to be more honest when they think you’ll never tell anyone their secrets.” You admitted, “So I let people believe I’m mute. The more they underestimate me, the safer and more powerful I become.”
“Is that so?” Bellamy asked
“Oh, most definitely,” you assured, “You wouldn’t believe all the things I know about the people in this camp.”
------------------------------
The ground was damp beneath your feet when you finally left the dropship. The sound of laughter and the steady hum of movement wrapped around you like a blanket and it was, after all this time, a comforting sound. It had been almost two months since the grounder attack and, in that time, the camp had grown strong again.
You stopped and leant your head back so that the heat of the evening sun could leach into your skin and warm your bones. John had always said that you were bred for the cold, that your bones were made of ice and your blood ran a few degrees colder than anyone else’s, but in reality you liked the sun more than most. You were still and silent, but you weren’t really cold, not by nature. You’d learned to listen and bide your time the hard way, and you refused to apologise for it.
John said that that was part of your charm and that your silence made everything you said more important. When you’d first been shoved roughly into a cell, it’d been John Murphy who’d comforted you. He’d made sure that you were fed and treated properly and he’d never pushed you to talk before you were ready to, nor mocked you for your silence. You’d loved him for that.
Suddenly, you heard the bark of cruel laughter that singled out Roberto, a bully who’d had it out for Murphy since his banishment.
“Still here are you, traitor?” the boy spat, something glinting evilly in his hand.
“I don’t want any trouble,” Murphy said quietly.
Your heartrate increased as you strode towards the boys. John was surrounded, five of Roberto’s cronies formed a loose circle around him and, as far as you could see, Murphy had nothing to defend himself with.
“Well, you should’ve thought of that before you sold us out to the grounders then, shouldn’t you?” one of the others sneered.
“Yeah, we lost a lot of good people thanks to you. From where I’m sitting, it seems like we’d be justified just slitting your throat right now.” Roberto threatened.
Quick as a flash, someone had Murphy’s arms pinned behind his back and Roberto had a knife pressed to John’s throat. You pushed your way into the circle, which broke before you out of pure shock. You put your hand on Roberto’s arm. Murphy’s eyes flicked to yours quickly, filled with panic.
“Stay out of this Ghost Girl,” a boy warned.
“Let him go,” you said, letting your voice ring out through the camp, “let him go or I swear to God I’ll snap you in two.”
For a long moment the boys just stared at you in shock.
“Oh? And how would you manage that?” Roberto asked, his voice quivering lightly. He was afraid, merely because you were such a mystery.
“Quite easily I should think.” You answered, “After all I did kill two guards. It took another four to take me down.” You explained, “One girl against six grown men. Would any of you like to see how you’d fare?”
Without another word, the boys dispersed, and Murphy was safe. You felt your body relax and you pulled the boy into a tight hug.
Murphy squeezed you tight, laughing with relief, “You’re amazing, you’re absolutely amazing.”
“Are you alright?” you asked after you released him, “Did they hurt you at all?”
“No, no, I’m alright.” He promised, “Thanks to you. Y/N, honestly you’re the most awe-inspiring person I’ve ever known.”
“You didn’t think I’d let them hurt you, did you?”
Murphy’s eyes softened and, for a long moment, he looked sad.
“They’re right though, all those people who died; they died because of me.” He said softly.
You shook your head, “Murph, they died because the grounders killed them, not because of you.”
“The grounders killed them because I told them how to. Their deaths are on my shoulders.”
“It’s in the past,” You promised, cupping the boy’s cheek with your hand and making his breath pause in his throat, “please, stop tearing yourself apart over it. What’s important now is that we fight for what we have left.”
“What do I have left?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
You thought for a moment, “You have me.”
“I do?”
“Yes, and I have you, don’t I?” you continued, feeling your heart beat like a kick drum in your chest.
John nodded, a hint of a smile on his lips, “You’ve always had me. Every day, since the moment we met.”
You leant up and captured his lips with your own, winding your fingers through his hair and sighing as he gripped your hips.
“I love you,” he whispered against your lips.
“I love you too,” you replied.
“You mean that?”
You looked up at the boy and smiled, “I mean everything I say John, I thought you knew that.”
Being Best Friends With Bellamy Blake And Dating John Murphy Would Include:
• Keeping it secret and making sure Bellamy doesn’t know
• “Murphy, if Bellamy finds out, you know he isn’t gonna be happy” “What makes you say that? The fact that he had me hung for ‘the people’? Or the fact that he banished me, and threatened to kill me when I came back after being tortured?” “Shut up, Murphy” “Love you too”
• Always giving each other looks when you thought no one was looking
• Trying to go on watch with Murphy as much as possible, which Bellamy always thought was suspicious
• “Why’re you voluntarily going on watch with him? I don’t want you hanging around with a criminal like him”
• “Bellamy, we’re all criminals here”
• “Yeah, but he’s the murderer-” “You had him hung for something he didn’t do, and threatened to kill him when he came back after being tortured. Cut the guy some slack, he isn’t a bad guy, Bell”
• Murphy insisting you don’t defend him around Bellamy
• “He isn’t wrong, besides, he’ll only get more suspicious if you act like you like me” “yeah, but I do like you”
• Bellamy finding out about the relationship when he caught you and Murphy kissing each other while on watch
• “Get the hell away from her, Murphy!”
• Him punching Murphy before you could stop him
• “Bellamy, fuck off! I love you, you’re my best friend, and being my best friend means listening to me and supporting me” “It also means protecting you from people that will hurt you, like Murphy”
• Convincing Bellamy that Murphy wouldn’t hurt you
• “Bell, listen to me, okay? I’ve talked to Murphy since day one, and trust me when I say he isn’t who you think he is, okay? He isn’t a bad person, he just makes bad decisions sometimes, and that doesn’t define him, because you’ve made bad choices too. All of us have”
• Bellamy overworking Murphy so you’d see him less during the day
• “Well, the king making me work seems better than him banishing or beating the shit out of me again. Besides, I get to spend nights with you, now that you’ve convinced him to let us share a tent” “I wouldn’t say I convinced him”
• Murphy always trying to show off your relationship around Bellamy once he found out about it
• “Murphy, I know what you’re doing” “What, can’t your loving boyfriend kiss you?”
• Trying to get Bellamy and Murphy to get along
• “I love you both, why don’t you guys stop fighting?” “Sorry, princess, I don’t think the king will give up”
• Bellamy and Murphy somewhat getting along after Murphy risked his life to save yours
• “I can deal with you, but you do anything wrong and you’ll regret it” “I don’t doubt that for a second, your highness. I wouldn’t dare”
• You teasing them sometimes
• “God, you guys fight so much sometimes I think you’re in a secret relationship together” “Shut up, (Y/N)”
Request: @jinglebellsjinglebellamy Hello, I was wondering if I could request a John Murphy imagine based off the song All of me by John Legend ? Love your writing honey xx
(All credit for the song ‘all of you’ to John Legend)
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What would I do without your smart mouth?
Drawing me in, and you kicking me out
You’ve got my head spinning, no kidding, I can’t pin you down.
You were unlike any girl he’d ever met before. He had never met anyone who was willing to deal with his sarcastic comments never mind anyone who had a smart mouth to rival his own. Your brain worked at a thousand miles an hour meaning often a conversation about one thing soon ended up in an entirely different place to its beginning point. It was like being on a rollercoaster trying to keep with you. One he never wanted to get off of though.
“John?”
“Yeah baby”
You appeared at the doorway to his room in Polis leaning against the frame as he turned away from the window. You were frowning clearly unhappy about something.
“Y/N what is it? What’s wrong?”
You smiled suddenly, shaking yourself and pushing off of the door frame. You came over to him dropping down on the sofa and pulling him down with you.
“Nothing, I’m good”
“You aren’t a good liar baby girl, what’s going on?”
Cause all of me
Loves all of you
All your curves and all your edges
All your perfect imperfections
“Murphy why do you like me?” You asked him abruptly, mind having wandered through the options of how to broach the subject and coming up with nothing suitably subtle so simply going for blunt. It had been on your mind for a while now, why this hot bad boy was interested in you.
“I’m so different to all the other girls here, louder, weirder, stranger… I don’t fit”
“What?” he was frowning plainly confused with where your mind had wandered “babe I have no idea what you’re talking about”
“Then concentrate” you pushed his leg with your foot. “This is serious John. Why do you like me? I’ve been thinking about it for a while now… I just don’t understand”
“I ‘like’ you because you’re perfect”
You snorted at that shaking your head in denial “I am far from perfect”
“Grabbing your hands he stared straight into your eyes. “Y/N to me you are perfect. All your weird imperfections and everything you say is bad about you I love”
“John…”
“No, I don’t know what brought this on but baby don’t you ever think you aren’t good enough for me, because you are literally my everything”
“It was something Raven said” you admitted “she was talking about the city of light again, and how everything in it was perfect even people”
“Come here” Murphy demanded pulling on your hands so you were moved up and around laying between his thighs with your back against his chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around you with his chin resting on your shoulder. “The city of light was cold Y/N, no emotion. That’s why it was perfect. It was beautiful in a cold, mechanical way. People aren’t like that. You are perfect because you’re warm, all those little idiosyncrasies that make you you. That’s why the city of light could never be real could never be perfect”
How many times do I have to tell you
Even when your crying you’re beautiful too
The world is beating you down
I’m around through every mood.
“Sometimes it’s just so hard John” you didn’t like the fact that your voice wasn’t steady. Didn’t appreciate the sound of tears. “I’m really tired” you revealed softly linking your fingers with his own as they rested on your stomach. “I’m tired of the world constantly trying to kill one or both of us”
“You and me both sweetheart” he kissed the side of neck gently, picking up your linked hands and turning them over to reveal the skin on the inner sides of your wrists. About a month ago now you’d had matching tattoo’s put there. “But we’re together and that counts for something”
“It counts for a lot” you agreed. “You know that I think you’re pretty perfect as well right?”
“You’re the only one who does baby”
You hated the note of self-loathing in his voice. Hated that he still thought of himself as the bad guy, the one everyone expected the worst of. Even after everything he had been through and after everything he had done to redeem himself.
Getting up on your knee’s you turned around to face him straddling his legs this time as his hands rested on your hips.
Your my end and my beginning
Even when I lose I’m winning
Cause I give you all of me
And you give me all of you
“John I don’t give a shit what they all think or what they say. I can’t explain it either but I just know that when I’m with you everything gets better. The world doesn’t seem quite so bleak”
“Well beautiful we agree about one thing at least”
“And what is that?”
He smiled dangerously pulling you closer to him. “I love all of you, no matter what anyone says. Every last bit of you is mine and I’m never letting go of you”
“I love you too” you whispered roughly. “Every bit as much as you say you love me”
Murphy’s hand was suddenly in your hair pulling your mouth down to his own kissing you roughly, your lips just one more thing that felt like they had been made to fit with his own.
You both really had been born for each other, made for each other. Always and forever.
