Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11712858.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      The_100_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Bellamy_Blake/John_Murphy
  Character:
      Bellamy_Blake, John_Murphy_(The_100)
  Additional Tags:
      Choking, Slapping, Face_Slapping, Oral_Sex, Rough_Sex, Rough_Oral_Sex,
      Scars, Size_Kink, Dom/sub, Light_Dom/sub, Dom/sub_Undertones, Verbal
      Humiliation, Humiliation, Name-Calling, Suicidal_Thoughts, Post-Traumatic
      Stress_Disorder_-_PTSD, Underage_Drinking, Underage_Sex, Dubious_Consent,
      Mildly_Dubious_Consent, Depression, Loneliness, PWP, NSFW, Kink_Meme
  Series:
      Part 2 of 101_Smut_Drabbles
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-08-05 Words: 6686
****** Take My Breath Away ******
by St0rybr00ke
Summary
     Part 2: Murphy stumbles drunk into Bellamy's tent into the middle of
     the night, broken. Bellamy sees a side of him he never thought he'd
     see. Murphy needs someone to remind him of his place when he steps
     out of line
     (Angsty porn ft broken Murphy)
"You're such a fuckin' asshole." Murphy's slurring his words as he slumps over
himself. He's sitting cross legged on the floor of Bellamy's tent, a near empty
mug clutched in his hand. Bellamy assumes he had gotten a hold of some of
Jasper's moonshine (more rightly Bellamy thought it should be called paint
thinner from the way it smelled. Bellamy is still in his sleeping bag, propped
up on his elbows and staring at murphy through blurry eyes. The younger boy had
ungracefully burst into Bellamy's tent reeking of booze and had dropped to the
floor in a cross legged position. The two had sat in silence before Murphy
broke it with his statement. Bellamy arched a thick brow as he pushed up from
his sitting position and glowered at the boy he'd once tried to hang.
"Is that what you broke into my tent at all hours of the night to tell me?"
Bellamy scowls, rubbing furiously at his eyes. Everyone else was in bed by now,
Murphy must've been drinking alone, but when wasn't he alone? Murphy chuckles
without a trace of humor and suddenly throws his head back.
"I guess. I just... I still see it every night." Murphy's voice turns somber
and he locks eyes with Murphy. It sends chills down Bellamy's spine to see the
empty hopelessness lurking in the depths. He's never seen Murphy like this, so
open and full of sadness yet devoid of any true emotion. I close my eyes, and I
look down, I feel that fucking belt wrapped around my neck. I'm standing there
on that stool, and I'm begging you not to, I'm telling you over and over that
it wasn't me, and it looks like you believe me, but everyone is calling for my
death, they want to see me die. They don't even care that Welles is dead, they
just want to see my dead body hanging from a tree." Murphy's voice is so
bitter, and Bellamy feels a pang of guilt stab through him painfully, but he
can't bring himself to look away. Murphy hasn't spoken of what happened between
them that night, of the hanging. "And then, they shove that fuckin' dirty ass
rag into my mouth 'cause I can't stop screaming like a little fucking bitch."
He sounds so angry, but this time it doesn't feel directed towards Bellamy, it
feels as if it's directed towards himself. His voice is poisoned with shame and
absolute guilt as if he can't possibly stand to remember how he shed tears in
front of every single person in their camp, how he screamed and begged for
mercy. Bellamy wants to break in, to interrupt him and remind him that it
wasn't everyone. Bellamy remembers watch Mbege hanging back with a nervous
gaze. But he doesn't, because like everyone else Mbege was silent and didn't
once try to interrupt. Only Clarke did, only Clarke tried to stop him, but not
for Murphy's sake but for his own. Because Clarke knew that if Bellamy was
making a mistake it would haunt him for the rest of his life.
"But you didn't listen, nobody would listen to me that I was innocent."
Murphy's continuing and Bellamy can't look away, can't stop listening because
he's never heard Murphy speak like this, he's never heard Murphy's side of the
story because Murphy refused to speak about it. Murphy's voice was raw with
sadness and anger and Bellamy hates to admit that it's pulling at his
heartstrings to finally see how absolutely broken Murphy truly is. His
shoulders are slumped over and suddenly the cup drops from his limp hands.
Every emotion leaves his eyes but he won't fucking look away from Bellamy and
Bellamy knows that Murphy is envisioning, reliving every second as he narrates
it out loud.
"I... I looked up t-to you, ya know. It's fucking stupid, but you asked me to
be a part of your team and I accepted because nobody asked me to every be a
part of everything. I thought... It's fucking stupid..." Murphy trails off into
a slur of unintelligible gibber as he buries his face in his hands and lets out
a long low, groan and Bellamy swears he can hear Murphy chipping apart in front
of him. "I thought..." Murphy looks back up at Bellamy with hollow eyes as he
picks back up on his train of thought. "I thought you saw something in me that
the others didn't. That you didn't just see me as some asshole who picks
fight." Murphy mumbled. Bellamy is relieved when Murphy drops his gaze down to
his hands. He thinks he might not stand it if Murphy keeps gazing at him with
those broken dead eyes. But his relief is short lived for seconds later Murphy
is staring back into Bellamy's guilt ridden eyes once more. He leans forward,
Murphy knows his words are starting to get under Bellamy's skin and the little
shit wants him to feel like shit, wants him to feel awful for the things he did
under pressure.
"So I'm up there on that stool with a goddamn noose around my neck and a rag in
my mouth, and I look down at you, and you're just staring up at me and I look
into your eyes and you know what I see?" the question hangs heavy in the air
but Bellamy knows it's rhetorical so he doesn't answer it despite his desire to
protest and tell Murphy to get the fuck out of his tent. Because despite his
guilt and anger towards Murphy for dragging all this up. He's desperate to know
what Murphy saw in his eyes.
"Hate, Bellamy. You wanted so badly it to be me that you were ready to kill me
at a moments notice." Murphy's voice cracks and Bellamy could've sworn he saw
tears welling up in the younger boy's eyes.
"Murphy, it wasn't like tha-"
"No, you wanted to see me dead just like everyone else. And when I looked at
you I hoped so fuckin' badly that you would see in my eyes that I really was
innocent, it felt like I was looking into your eyes for so long, just like I am
now, but it really was a second. Everything slowed down and there wasn't an
ounce of forgiveness in your eyes. And then you just... You just kicked the
stool out from underneath my feet." Murphy's bottom lip is trembling and
Bellamy finally sees a tear escape and trail down his cheek. Bellamy is
absolutely glued to his seat just staring at Murphy. Murphy is still gazing
into Bellamy's brown gaze but it's as if he's looking right through Bellamy, as
if Murphy is just having a conversation with himself, reliving every second of
that tragic 24 hours.
"Right away I couldn't breathe. The belt was so tight on my neck, it hurt, I
thought my head was gonna come off my neck. I couldn't even gasp, I couldn't
get a single bit of air into my lungs. My hands were tied behind my back, all I
could do is kick my feet and fuckin' flail around like a fish out of water."
Murphy spits out and he's focused back on Bellamy, he's back in the real world
and out of his memories. Bellamy wishes Murphy would zone out again, that blank
look through him, he would take that any over that helpless lonely gaze that
bored through him making him feel like the biggest dick in the world. "I could
hear everyone, it all sounded so fuzzy and far away I can still see them all
fuckin' laughing and-and cheering while I hung there and struggled. But what I
remember seeing?" Murphy's voice cracks again so helplessly, just like the day
where he was begging for his life. He suddenly hangs his head and his hand
flies to his throat, rubbing viciously at the skin as if he felt the tight belt
around his neck once again. "I remember seeing you standing there watching me,
and you didn't even flinch. You just stood and watched. You didn't smile. You
didn't laugh or cheer. You just looked at me hanging there like it was normal,
like you were watching the garbage getting taken away."
"I didn't want to do i-"
"But what I felt was even worse." It seems as though Murphy has no intentions
of letting him speak and Bellamy figures he deserves it. He seems to be the
villain in this story and villains don't get a say. "It was like I was frozen.
I couldn't scream out, I couldn't free myself. I didn't even have a chance to
defend myself when you sicced those teenage fucks on me. Tied me up like a
fucking animal and lynched me when I didn't do anything. My head hurt so bad,
my vision was going black and it was so fuckin' scary, Bellamy." The tears are
falling freely now as Murphy suddenly hunches over himself and Bellamy watches
as a silent sob wracks the boy's body. "I just hung there choking, gagging.
I've wanted to die so many times, I've thought about hanging myself in my cell
with my sheets." Bellamy has to admit that caught him off guard and he doesn't
seem to be very good at hiding his shock from the way Murphy shrinks into
himself in shame when he sees Bellamy's expression. "But I never realized it
would be like that. I never realized how fucking slow and painful it is to
suffocate at the end of the rope." Murphy's voice is suddenly calm and empty
again despite the wet tears streaking down his cheeks. "I thought I was going
to die, Bellamy. But right as I was on the brink, I heard Charlotte's voice.
She was screaming, confessing." Murphy can remember every little detail of the
day down to where the sun was hanging when he himself was hung up in the sky.
"But at that brink, there was no light. There was none of that, then he walked
into the bright light, bullshit. It was all darkness. There was nothing waiting
for me on the other side." Bellamy wonders if it's true, if Murphy saw into the
afterlife and realized there was absolutely nothing except for an eternity in
the everlasting void of pitch black limbo.
"Then the next thing I know is I'm falling, and I hit the ground hard. I can
remember finally being able to breathe. It felt so good, all that air rushing
into my lungs." Murphy's chapped bitten lips, the corners suddenly twitched up
into a smile and Murphy felt for a moment as if he could feel that complete
utter bliss of finally being able to breathe. "Charlotte confessed, she told
everyone about how she took my knife and killed Welles. She wanted you all to
blame me. She knew you all would jump at the chance to kill me. You all were so
ready to execute me, but you wanted to spare Charlotte. It didn't matter if I
had killed him or not, you all, all of you... wanted me dead." Murphy's story
is beginning to sound like an echo; an echo of loneliness and solitude. Murphy
had been an outcast among outcasts, he had relied on Bellamy as the one person
to want him and coming to the realization that among the unwanted he was the
least desirable. Murphy had been in pieces before, he felt that he kept himself
glued together just barely from the support of his one friend Mbege, but it
turns out they weren't even friends. Friends protected each other. He'd seen
the way Clarke protected Finn, how Bellamy defended his other camp mates. But
there had been nothing for Murphy.
"And then," Murphy threw his head back with a cold laugh and Bellamy is
honestly a bit worried for the drunken boy. He's smiling and laughing so
hollowly yet with tears pouring down his cheeks and his hands shaking. Bellamy
glances at Murphy's hands and sees the callouses, the jagged nails and he
suddenly notices red marks on his wrists that matches with Murphy's fingernails
as if the boy had been clawing at his arms like a madman. That's what Murphy
is, a boy, a frightened young boy who has seen far too much for his 17 years of
life. But he supposes they all have seen things that some grown men from the
Ark wouldn't be able to handle.
"Then, you cast me aside. Charlotte kills herself for what she did to Welles,
how she just fucking stabbed him to death like it was nothing, and I'm punished
for it?!" Murphy sounds like he's trying to be angry but it's muddled with
despair and sadness. But Bellamy begins to feel anger boiling underneath his
skin because Murphy doesn't understand why they cast him out, why Bellamy did
what he did.
"Shut the fuck up." Bellamy interrupts as Murphy begins to open his mouth to
resume once more. A daze of confusion clouds Murphy before he scowls at
Bellamy. Bellamy has been silent up until now and Murphy doesn't seem to be
able to understand why Bellamy has so suddenly cut him off and not allowed him
to continue with his monologue.
"Scuse me?' he's baffled and confused but Bellamy won't stand for the guilt
trip anymore. He has to make a stand for himself.
"I said shut the fuck up, John!" Bellamy growls hatefully. Murphy stares at him
but doesn't speak, he's staring with those same bleak tear-filled eyes. "You
pushed Charlotte to the edge, you wanted her to die. She was a child!" Bellamy
can't contain the rage tainting his voice now. Charlotte had made a mistake,
she didn't need to take her life to apologize for it.
"So was I! I was fuckin' sixteen and everyone wanted me to die, so why not
her?!" the emotion is back in Murphy's voice as he clenches his fists into
white knuckled balls on his lap.
"I made a mistake doing what I did to you, I know that!" Bellamy is yelling now
and he doesn't care if he wakes the others in camp up. "I was under pressure,
but when it came to Charlotte I had to time to think! Blood for blood solves
nothing, I realized that!"
"But you threw me away, Bell!" The nickname slips past Murphy's lip without the
sad boy even realizing. "You abandoned me in the woods with nothing, I couldn't
even fight when the grounders found me, I surrendered like a fuckin' coward and
let them take me. They tortured me and I couldn't even fight!" Murphy's voice
is raised as well too now, this time an audible sob bursts out of his body. It
fought its way up his throat and shook his whole lanky body. "The things they
did to me, Bell... I prayed that you would come, that anyone would come but no
one did! I had no one!"
"It's what you deserved!" the words leave Bellamy before he even has a chance
to think of what he's saying, of what the consequences may be. It is suddenly
so quiet in the tent, the sudden silence makes Bellamy's ears ring as the
weight of what he says hits Murphy like a punch in the gut. Suddenly he's
grabbing the cup from the floor and pitches it at Bellamy's head. But Bellamy
isn't drunk and he sees it coming. He ducks in time and the tin cup bounces
harmlessly off his strong bare arm. But the deed is done and Bellamy feels a
surge of rage. He suddenly lunges forward out of his sleeping bag and launches
himself at Murphy. Murphy tries to scramble back but his reflexes are slowed
due to the alcohol coursing through his system and Bellamy easily knocks him
down and pins Murphy's thin wrists over his head. Bellamy only had to use one
hand, his large hands easily wrapped around Murphy. For a boy that could talk
so much shit, he didn't really have the muscle to back any of it up. Murphy
thrashes pathetically underneath him and it is no struggle for Bellamy to
straddle Murphy's hips and keep him from landing any hits.
"I didn't deserve any of it, Blake!" He must be furious, he has only referred
to Bellamy by his last name a few times and it's only ever been when Murphy is
trying to spite him or screaming in his face. "You don't know what they did to
me! You don't know how painful those three days were." Murphy's voice is
shaking and underneath the simmering rage Bellamy can see fear, it increases
when Bellamy unnecessarily tightens the grip on Murphy's wrists. He hates being
restrained, being tied down.
"You're pathetic, John!" The roles are reversed, Bellamy only uses Murphy's
first name when he's putting Murphy in his place. "You gave up our camp, our
people, you murdered two of your team mates, your own people!"
"They aren't my people, they never were! I would've killed everyone there if I
hadn't been caught." Murphy suddenly hawks a load of spit into Bellamy's face.
The older man is caught off guard and without even thinking about it he raises
his splayed hand from beside Murphy's head and harshly slaps him. Murphy's head
flies to the side and a groan escapes his trembling lips. Bellamy doesn't even
respect him enough to punch, he slaps Murphy like the bitch he is, open handed
and hard. It leaves a stinging red mark on Murphy's cheek. Bellamy is caught up
in his rage and the hand that just slapped Murphy flies to the boy's slim
throat. Murphy whips his head back to stare up at Bellamy and the absolute
terror in those eyes is like a fucking drug to Bellamy.
"Bellamy, n-" but he's cut off as Bellamy suddenly tightens his strong fingers
around Murphy's throat in a crushing and bruising grip. Murphy's eyes bulge and
he instantly begins to buck with renewed strength as the dazed drunken haze
dissolves into pure panic. Bellamy grits his teeth and watches as the slim boy
gasps helplessly for air.
"I should've let you fucking hang, I should've let you die! Connor and Myles
would still be alive if you had died, maybe we'd still have Charlotte! Do you
really think your life is worth three?! Guess what, it's fucking not, John!
Your life is worth nothing, you are nothing! You're fucking useless to everyone
here, you're nothing but a burden!" Bellamy isn't yelling anymore, his voice is
low and absolutely seething with pure hatred. Murphy can hear the malice and
the hate, he's beginning to truly panic from the lack of air. Bellamy's hand is
nowhere near as painful as the belt was, this is nothing like being hung and
Murphy feels a rush of shame when a moan escapes him and the blood rushes
straight to his fucking dick. He's absolutely powerless and he can't help the
way his heart pounds and his prick is instantly hard in his worn out pants. In
their compromising position Murphy knows Bellamy has to feel it, and from the
expression on his face he has felt Murphy's hot blood filled heat pressed into
his thigh. Bellamy is shirtless, only in boxers, there's no way Bellamy could
not feel it, couldn't see the now visible tent in Murphy's pants. Bellamy's
eyes widen and he suddenly straightens from his hunched position. His hands
flies from Murphy's throat and Murphy can see the disgust and confusion in his
eyes as he stares down at Murphy.
"You sick fuck, did you just get fucking hard from me choking you?!" Bellamy
wants to shout in disgust and jump away from Murphy but there's this wild glint
in Murphy's eyes that's captivating. The boy with the faded scars is gasping
for air, his back arching and hips stuttering as he thrusts up against Bellamy
with a pathetic whimper.
"You're right, Bell, I'm fucking nothing, you fucking hate me more than anyone
here. Show me how much you hate me, Bell, fucking hit me, choke me, please!"
The begging breathless phrases pour past Murphy's lips like a waterfall as he
sucks in lungfuls of air, his head swimming in that blissful way only oxygen
deprivation can make one feel. Bellamy feels frozen for a moment before he
lashes out once again and slaps Murphy across the face. Murphy inhales sharply
as his head falls to the side and he gives out the most wanton, most un-Murphy
like sound Bellamy had ever heard. That moan goes straight to Bellamy's cock
and he's suddenly just as hard as Murphy is. The heat is intense and heavy in
the air and Bellamy feels himself giving into the wild darkness.
Murphy barely gets a chance to turn his head back to face Bellamy before his
thick hand is back on Murphy's throat, squeezing and choking as if trying to
force the very life force from his body. He's merciless and from the way
Murphy's eyes glaze over with fear and he ruts up against Bellamy's bare thigh.
Bellamy lets go of Murphy's wrists and reaches down to rub himself through his
boxers. Murphy's hands instinctively fly to the hand wrapped around his throat.
He claws and scratches and manages to irk out a pathetic squeak as his lips
pucker open and close, gasping for air. "You like being choked, you sick fuck?
Did you get fucking hard when you were hanging from that rope?" Bellamy hisses
in his ear. Murphy can't speak, can't catch the breath to speak so he simply
frantically shakes his head. Bellamy ignores Murphy's needy erection, choosing
instead to furiously rub his palm against his own heavy cock. Why should
Murphy's needs matter to him? Murphy's attempts to claw at Bellamy's hands are
weakening and his stuttering hips are slowing. His eyes are rolling back into
his head and his trembling is slowing. "You think about it when you jerk off,
huh?" This time his question was met with a weak nod. Bellamy appreciates the
honesty so he takes his hand off Murphy's throat. This time Murphy doesn't gulp
in frantic lungfuls of air as he did last time. This time his head lolls to the
side and he breathes in shallowly. His arms are limp by his side, he's so limp
and compliant but his erection is still throbbing embarrassingly against his
thigh. It's so fucking hot, Murphy being so open and vulnerable. Bellamy stares
down at the expanse of neck and takes advantage of Murphy's inability to fight
back. He buries his face into Murphy's neck, eagerly biting and sucking at the
sweat tinged flesh. Murphy's trying to moan but it comes out as pathetic
breathless whimpers. Bellamy bites down hard on the junction of Murphy's
collarbone and neck, harder than he would ever bite into a girl. Murphy barely
flinches. Instead he thrusts up against Bellamy in a puny gesture of desire.
Bellamy can taste coppery blood on his tongue, he's broken Murphy's flesh. He
wants to take out every bit of frustration on Murphy, and it seemed that Murphy
wanted to take it.
"You're so goddamn pathetic, getting off on this like some fucking slut."
Bellamy pants out. He's desperate, but he holds himself together. He's in
control right now, Murphy has given the control to him and Bellamy was
determined to excel in this in the same way he attempted to excel in his every
day activities. Murphy nodded with a soft little girlish whimper. Bellamy's
hand suddenly flew to Murphy's hair where he tangled it in the younger male's
sweat drenched locks. He forcefully pulled on Murphy's hair and made the boy
look him in the eyes. He spoke two simple sentences, a direct command. "Say it,
Murphy. Say you want this, say you want to be punished like a fucking whore."
He bent over and whispered the last sentence in Murphy's ear and the reaction
was fucking priceless. The shaken, aroused yet frightened moan that slips past
Murphy's lip is like the strongest aphrodisiac Bellamy had ever encountered, it
makes him want to put Murphy on his hands and knees like he's one of Bellamy's
girls and fuck him into the dirt, on all fours so Bellamy didn't have to look
at their faces.
"Yes..." Murphy breathes it out so softly Bellamy could've missed it if his ear
wasn't so close to Murphy's lips. It's not enough and Bellamy makes that clear
in the way that he jerks on the handful of Murphy's dirty hair. He relishes in
the cry it provokes from the boy he was determined to break.
"I told you to say. it." Murphy swallows hard and Bellamy can feel the heat
radiating off of his cheeks as Murphy trembles in shame underneath him.
"Punish me, please."
"Not enough." Bellamy purrs dangerously in his former comrade in arms. To make
a statement Bellamy suddenly and skillfully rolled his hips against Murphy's
erection. Murphy's breath catches in his throat and Bellamy can practically see
the last shreds of Murphy's dignity leave him.
"You're right, I'm a slut, I'm a pathetic fucking slut and I deserve to be
punished. Please punish me, Bell! You were right, I'm worthless, I deserve
nothing, I don't deserve this but please give me this, make me feel something,
anything!" Murphy has seemingly regained his strength as he cries out the last
words. Bellamy is sure the others in the tents near his own can hear them, but
he doesn't give a fuck. Let them listen to Murphy begging for Bellamy to hit
him, to choke him. Bellamy had nothing to be ashamed of, if anything Murphy is
the one to be embarrassed. He's pleased to hear these words, those begging
words. He doesn't speak, his lustful expression doesn't shift an inch as he
suddenly tears Murphy's shirt right down the middle. Murphy's chest is now bare
and exposed and Bellamy can now see the scars up close and personal. He'd seen
them from far away when Murphy would change his shirt outside of his tent or
when he was leaving the river from a bath. But those were rare occasions.
Murphy seemed to try to keep his chest covered at all times and Bellamy could
see why. Just the scars on his chest stood out against his pale skin. They were
raised and had a rough, almost rope like texture to his chest. Bellamy suddenly
reached down and pinched one of Murphy's nipples between his fingers and
relished the pain cry that shook Murphy.
"Look at you, those fucking scars." Bellamy knows Murphy is self conscious
about it and he could tell his comment shamed him as he suddenly made an
attempt to throw his arms around his chest to conceal his scars. Bellamy
wouldn't allow it and roughly slapped his hands away. "Look at your chest, look
at mine. It's fucking disgusting." Bellamy scoffs as he runs a hand down his
own smooth chest, not even a scratch marring that tanned skin stretched over
well defined muscle. Murphy might be humiliated but that didn't make his cock
shy at all. Murphy suddenly surges forward and eagerly throws his hands around
Bellamy's waist. He gropes at Bellamy's smooth back and begins to press hungry
kisses to Bellamy's well defined chest.
"So fucking perfect, so goddamn smooth. Murphy whimpers in joy. His lips brush
over Bellamy's hard nipples and he looks desperately up at Bellamy through his
lashes as his tongue shyly darts out and licks over Bellamy's right nipple.
Bellamy grunts and throws his head back in pleasure, Murphy dragging his short,
blunt fingernails down Bellamy's back. Bellamy arches into the touch but
suddenly leans back and delivers a third sharp slap to Murphy's cheek. There's
going to be a bruise there come tomorrow morning. But Murphy leans into the
slap, as if even a violent touch is better than nothing at all.
"I didn't tell you that you could do that." he purrs dangerously as he suddenly
stands. He pushes Murphy off him in the process. Murphy slides to his knees and
watches in awe as Bellamy pushes his boxers down around his ankles. Bellamy has
a pretty cock, Murphy thinks. It's large, but not disgustingly so. The veins
are perfectly defined, the base is as tan as he is, and the tip is a soft pink.
It's slick with accumulated pre cum and there's beads of the pearly white
liquid collecting at the tip and it's taking every bit of self control that is
in Murphy's body not to stick his tongue out and lick the drops right off the
tip.
"Fuck, Bell, it's so fucking big, I want it in me so fucking bad." Murphy
practically sobs with need as he finally has a chance to press his hand against
his cock and god fucking damn it feels so fucking good. But Bellamy doesn't
seem to agree with his move as he smacks the broken boy's cheek.
"Don't speak. Hands behind your back. You better not fucking touch yourself."
Bellamy scolds him. It's like a fucking drug, the rush he gets when he watches
Murphy instantly obey Bellamy, even if it means depriving himself of pleasure.
"Good. I'm gonna use you for the only thing that shit-talking mouth is good
for." he spits at Murphy just as the boy had done to him earlier. Normally
something like that would send Murphy into an absolute fit of rage but tonight
he seems to welcome it. He seems to derive utter pleasure from it in fact.
"Open your mouth." Murphy stills for a moment. Bellamy's face slides into a
scowl and he wonders why Murphy is not jumping to obey him like he had. "I said
open your mouth." he repeats himself this time in an icy and intimidating tone.
Murphy obeys this time and slowly opens his mouth. "Stick out your tongue."
Murphy complies and Bellamy doesn't waste any time. He presses the tip of his
thick cock to Murphy's tone and watches a look of bliss roll through Murphy's
feature as he gets a taste of Bellamy's salty flesh. The elder only lingers for
a moment before he slowly but surely begins to slide his cock into the broken
boy's eager mouth. Murphy holds completely still and obedient until the tip of
Bellamy's cock brushes against the back of his throat and he suddenly gags.
Murphy has never done this before. Giving head to a grown man is far different
from the lust fueled trysts he'd had with some girls on the Ark. Those had been
quick, done in the stairwell in a blind spot in a hazy rushed mess before the
guards came looking for them. Bellamy pulls back and roughly jerks at Murphy's
hair as the younger of the two takes a breath.
"Are you fucking serious, John? You still have two more inches to take and
you're already gagging? Pathetic." Murphy's face colors red with the twin
emotions of shame and lust. "Stop being such a little bitch and take it. I'm
not going to go easy on you." Bellamy warns Murphy, getting a nod from the boy
on his knees. Normally in a situation like this Bellamy would set up a safe
word or a safety signal but Murphy didn't deserve one. Murphy took a deep
breath and attempted to compose himself before he once more stuck his tongue
out. Bellamy placed both hands on Murphy's head, gripping his hair to hold him
still. Bellamy quickly resumes and begins to thrust into Murphy's mouth. He
hadn't lied, he thrust into Murphy's throat as he had last time. This time he
ignored the gagging sounds and pained whimpers as the unknown intrusion
painfully enters his throat. He's tense, Bellamy can feel it. He's nervous and
his nerves are keeping Bellamy from fucking that tight throat of his.
"Suck, move your tongue around." He orders. "If you want me to fuck you you'd
better get that cock nice and wet." his words seem to trigger something in
Murphy as his body relaxes at the thought of getting fucked. Bellamy grunts in
relief as another inch slips into Murphy's throat. Murphy's eyes bulge
practically out of his skull as it slips deeper into his throat. "That's so
fucking good, this is what you're good for, John, sucking cock and getting your
throat fucked like a goddamn slut." Every word packs a punch, is laced with
malice as he begins to thrust shallowly into Murphy's throat. Murphy's cheeks
are hollowed out and he struggles to keep stroking the shaft with his tongue
whilst simultaneously keep from gagging on the intrusion in his throat. He's
trying so hard to please, Murphy is gazing up at Bellamy with what one might
call adoration and a need for reassurance. "That's right, John, just relax your
throat." he's moaning loudly now and John seems to be feeding off the approval.
He can't breathe with the cock stuffed in his throat. It's just another method
of suffocation, something Murphy craves. Tears begin spilling down his cheeks
as he quells the urge to pull himself off, to get a breath of air. He holds
firm, even as his face begins to turn bright red and he begins twitching, eyes
rolling into the back of his head as he began to feel dizzy. Finally Bellamy
takes pity on him and slowly lets his cock slip out of Murphy's wet mouth.
Murphy's chapped lips are swollen, a stringy mixture of cum and spit link
Murphy's trembling lips to the throbbing pink head of Bellamy's thick cock. It
suddenly breaks and falls back onto Murphy's face. It's a perfect look for
Murphy, swollen lips with Bellamy's cum on his face. His broken boy looks dizzy
and absolutely heady, Murphy's cock is painfully hard in his pants and when
Bellamy gives the cold command of, 'take them off' they're practically torn off
his legs. He shucks his boxers down and just like that the scarred boy is naked
on his knees in front of them. Bellamy doesn't try to hide the predatory grin
as he glances Murphy up and down.
"Hands and knees, now." Murphy hurriedly obeys, he gets the message, it's
painfully clear. He turns his back and drops to his elbows, his back arched and
ass sticking up. From this angle Murphy could almost pass for a girl with his
girlish hips and pale skin. How Murphy hasn't gotten tan yet like the others,
but he enjoys the contrast as he kneels behind Murphy and runs his hand over
the pattern of lacing, criss crossing scars across Murphy's pale skin.
"Are you going to fuck me?" Murphy whimpers hopefully as Bellamy stares at the
boy's ass.
"I didn't tell you that you could speak." Bellamy reminds him as he spits into
his hand and rubs it over Murphy's trembling hole. Murphy whimpers but he
doesn't speak, he's trying his hardest in being obedient and take his
punishment well for Bellamy. Bellamy knows he should take time to prep Murphy,
but Murphy doesn't deserve that. Murphy wants the pain and Bellamy is more than
willing to give it. Bellamy nudges Murphy's legs apart, the younger is shorter
than Bellamy and makes positioning a bit of a scheme. He doesn't warn Murphy
when he presses the tip of his cock to Murphy's tight, virginal entrance. He
hears Murphy inhale sharply as Bellamy presses the tip into him. It's so
fucking tight already, none of the girls Bellamy has fucked have ever been this
tight. It's so tight Bellamy almost worries that it will be impossible to get
his cock out, but he honestly wouldn't complain about that. Murphy's fists are
clenched once more and his eyes squeezed shut as Bellamy slowly and surely
begins to slide into him inch by torturous inch. Bellamy gets his cock halfway
in when Murphy suddenly cries out in pain, unable to hold it in any longer.
"Shut the fuck up. Sluts don't cry." Bellamy reminds him with a harsh slap to
Murphy's ass. Murphy whimpers and bites down so hard on his bottom lip he's
worried he'll tear through it. Bellamy doesn't wait to get his cock all the way
in before he suddenly begins to hammer into the pliant body beneath him. Murphy
throws his head back and barely contains a shout, managing to bring it down to
a pained moan as Bellamy stretches him out. It hurts so bad but it feels so
fucking right. Murphy deserves this, he deserves to be down on his hands and
knees for Bellamy to fuck. It's all he's worth. Bellamy's grip on his hips is
bruising as he fucks into Murphy. Murphy's head rests in an awkward position
against the ground. His neck will be aching tomorrow, along with his throat and
his eyes. Throaty moans and groans pour from the both of them, most of the
moans are coming from Murphy. Bellamy doesn't even try to hit Murphy's
prostate. He's selfish, this is for himself. He doesn't care of Murphy's needs.
Besides Murphy seems to be enjoying this in his own sense. "God you're so
fucking tight for a slut, Murphy. A fucking virgin ass for me to claim, for me
to loosen, for me to make mine." Bellamy gasps out. The tightness is sheer
bliss and in one smooth stroke he finally manages to bottom out in Murphy's
ass, an action that makes Murphy's tear filled eyes roll back into his head as
he suddenly comes with a mixture of a sob and a moan. Bellamy was impressed,
Murphy had come completely untouched.
"It hurts so bad, Bell, everything hurts so. fucking. bad." Murphy suddenly
sobs. Bellamy realizes the situation, realizes that Murphy is here because he
has no one, because he's so alone it pains him in ways that this fucking could
never come close to.
"Don't talk." Bellamy says coldly and Murphy whimpers sadly, his cock is spent
and he's completely limp, just a hole for Bellamy to fuck. He focuses only on
the finish now, he's so close. Murphy is so broken down that this is what it
has come to. Whoring himself out for any attention he could receive, even if it
was from a man who hated him and wanted to see him in pain. Murphy is silent
now as Bellamy's thrusts become more shallow, less rhythmic and more frantic
until the white light welcomes him and he's spilling into that tight ass,
filling it with his load. He buries his cock fully in one last time, he knew
this would be the last time Murphy's ass would be this tight, there's no
telling who's tent he'd stumble into on a different drunken night, just begging
to be fucked and abused. Murphy whimpers pathetically as Bellamy slips his
softening cock out of his ass and watches as drops of his cum trickle down
Murphy's thighs. What comes next is silence. Stifling silence and Bellamy
slowly pulls his boxers back on, keeping his back to Murphy as the younger one
dresses. He hears Murphy stumble to his feet, a muffled sniffle filling the
silence of the tent. He can tell from the shaken breaths that Murphy is
silently crying.
"I'm sorry, Bellamy." he hears Murphy barely manage to choke out. Bellamy knows
Murphy wants affection now, there are plenty of girls like Murphy, but Bellamy
won't give into it. He won't give Murphy any hope that this was more than just
a fuck.
"Leave, Murphy." Bellamy kept his voice void of emotion, cold and empty.
"Bell..."
"I said leave, now." he makes himself clear and he can see Murphy's shoulders
slumping without even having to turn around. Murphy makes a hasty exit without
another word to Bellamy, no goodbyes or sharp words. Bellamy has seen a whole
different side of Murphy tonight and it has made something clear to him: Earth
didn't break him. The Sky People did.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!