random imagines

John Murphy x gn!reader

quick warning- this is a bit long for most oneshots. The word count is 3.7k. This is also unedited and written on a phone.

Murphy grunted as he raised up from the dirt, beaten and bruised after his almost execution and Bellamy. Anger still coursed through his veins like fire as he thought about the events of that night. He didnt really feel guilty about Charlotte taking her own life, after all they were willing to kill him first. Murphy wasn't oblivious to how many people hated him at camp, but he was admittedly a little shocked that they all jumped at the chance to kill him. That eventually wore off and he realized he shouldn't be surprised at all, John Murphy would never get the benefit of the doubt in any situation. He knew that.

He felt like he had been walking for hours due to the state of his body, but in reality it had been about 30 minutes. He stumbled through the forest before leaning against a tree and drawing in ragged breaths, the adrenaline that once ran through his body was long gone. His throat ached worse than the rest of his body, burns from the rope that had wrapped around it would probably scar. "At this rate, you'll be dead by first light," The voice was sudden and amused. Murphy startled and gripped the knife he had in his hand, the only thing he currently had on him.

He had no idea where the voice came from, his head had taken several blows and was a little foggy. "Who the hell is there," shouting out to the forest probably wasn't the smartest idea he had ever had. When the only answer he recieved was a breathy chuckle, he felt his anger rise, as well as his fear. Had someone followed him from camp to finish him off? Was it a grounder?

There were far too many unknown for this situation to be casual. "I'll fucking kill you! You hear me!" Murphy continued shouting, knowing deep down it was useless.

"You? Kill me?" The response was condescending, "Can you even swing that blade in your condition?" As though to prove their point Murphy suddenly found himself face first on the ground. He had barely been shoved in order to collapse. A chuckle once again filled the air, "You're quite lucky i found you John Murphy, otherwise you would be dead." He flung himself to his back and stumbled to his feet, still clutching his knife. He came face to face with a grounder, leaning calming against a tree.

He had to keep his shock hidden, he had never came across a grounder before and certainly hadn't expected them to look like this. He expected a barbaric face covered in dirt, with skin and hair that had been permanently tinged with blood. Instead the person in front of him was relatively clean and attractive. A lazy smirk stretched across their face as they stared him down. A single brow raised as they pushed off the tree and spread their arms out. At first, Murphy stared with wide eyes in confusion before realizing what they were doing. They were telling him to try and kill them, like he said he would. Instead, he only said, "How do you know my name? Who are you?"

"Don't tell me you thought that no ones been watching you all this time," they were clearly enjoying teasing him, "I've been watching you for some time." With this, they turned around and started walking away. When Murphy stayed rooted to the ground they turned, "You coming or not?"

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For the first time in his life, John Murphy felt like someone had his back. He stayed with the grounder, which was probably stupid at the time, and learned while also finding himself falling in love with them. At first, he was not gifted their name, in fact they made it into a sort of game. They enjoyed seeing him frustrated, but made sure to be cautious. Allowing him to cool down if it got too much, they seemed to have an understanding of how much John struggled with his temper at times.