Fandom: The 100
Character: John Murphy, reader
Summary: Don’t touch Murphy’s neck.
“Zip up your jacket,” barks Clarke. “You’ll catch a cold, Murphy.”
He rolls his eyes, tossing her a vaguely annoyed glance as you try to figure out if you should laugh or make him listen to Clarke.
“Let me think about it.” Murphy pauses, rubbing thoughtfully at his chin. “No.”
“Zip it up, John,” growls Clarke. She’s been up to her neck in teenagers with the flu, and Clarke sure as hell doesn’t want to take care of Murphy. You don’t blame her: Murphy in a bad mood isn’t fun.
He unzips his jacket completely and walks past her into the forest, smirking at Clarke as he passes her. Bellamy immediately storms after him, shoving him around and grabbing the zipper of his jacket.
“You listen to her when she talks to you,” he snarls, fighting to pull the zipper up when Murphy locks his hands around Bellamy’s wrists and begins to twist.
Clarke immediately steps forward, mouth open, but you’re faster. Wrapping your hands around Murphy’s forearms, you attempt to pry him off of Bellamy, the two guys’ eyes never leaving the other’s.
“Jesus Christ, can you two grow up for like, two seconds?” you bark. Neither of them move, so you must resort to desperate measures.
Turning to Murphy, who continues to smirk at Bellamy, you take a deep breath and knee him in the family jewels, then whirl around and punt Bellamy’s crotch. The two immediately let go of each other and bend over in pain, Bellamy collapsing into a kneeling position while Murphy falls on all fours. Clarke snorts from behind you, looking anywhere but at the two fallen soldiers in an attempt to stem her laughter.
“This is why we play nice and listen to the people in charge,” you retort, slightly pissed that they’d ignored you just a few seconds ago. Turning to Clarke, you can’t help but grin. “Ready to pick some plants?” She nods, cheeks dimpling ever so slightly.
“Whatever you say.”
Murphy was quiet.
He was quieter than he normally was, not a single snarky remark falling from two tightly-pressed lips. Everyone else had gone to bed, making the silence even louder. You shifted against his side, looking away from the fire up at his face.
“If you’re pissed that I destroyed your dick, I’m sorry.” The corner of his lip twitched, but he didn’t move his gaze form the bonfire.
“Kinkier than I thought you were.”
“Oh, you don’t even know.”
“Out of the two of us, I know you better than you know you,” he responds, sounding somewhat tired.
“Bull.” Time to bring out his sass. You’ve just set yourself up for a snark-filled ass kicking, but he ignores your bait.
“God bless you,” he responds blandly.
“Murphy?” He glances down at you, eyes half-closed like he’s about to fall asleep on you. “I know why you didn’t want to zip up your jacket.”
“Yeah, because Clarke’s a control freak who needs to learn personal space.”
“Funny. No, it’s because it feels like you’re being hanged again. Not bull.”
He’s quiet again, but his eyes are wide open now and blankly stare at the flames. The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes before you gently kiss the base of his neck, ignoring him as he jerks away from your touch, and make your way into your tent.
Lying down, you close your eyes and roll onto your side. Murphy’s always been a loner, and never really was one to share his feelings. You’d kind of started a friends with benefits thing with him, but it had fizzled out into being friends again, which meant less talking between the two of you.
Yawning, you jumped as you felt someone lie down next to you. Turning around, you locked gazes with Murphy, who was wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you into his chest, mumbling something unintelligible.
“Oh, what was that?” you asked innocently. He glanced unamusedly at you.
“You’re more intelligent that you look.”
“Gee, thanks,” you snarked, rolling your eyes as you tucked your head into the crook of his neck. Ignoring his sudden stiffening, you gently kissed the hollow of his throat, fingers tracing his collarbone.
After a few minutes, his breathing slowed, so you curled your arm around his waist and pressed your face into the base of his neck,
“G’night, Murphy.” His lips brushed over the top of your head as your eyes began to droop.
“Y/N?” You open your eyes. This was it. This was the shining moment in which he’d confess a deep secret to you as the result of your kindness and empathy you’d continually expressed towards him. Murphy would blossom into a beautiful flower, you could just see it as his eyes widened-
“I’ll eat you out if you want.”