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Raven wanted nothing more than to go to her room and fall into bed, and maybe, possibly, manage to sleep for a few minutes. Her back ached, her eyes seemed perpetually half-mast, and really, more than anything else in the world, she just wanted to pass out.
The only problem was there was already someone in her bed.
John Murphy was sprawled out on the very place she lay her head to rest (over the sheets, thank god). Was there nothing sacred?
It was a disturbingly nice view, she had to admit - one arm tucked behind his head, a knee up, and his legs dropped open. He was staring at the ceiling, as if he hadn’t noticed her come in, his free hand tapping beats against her blanket.
“Off.” It was a command. There was no way in hell she was dealing with this today.
Murphy, surprisingly, obeyed, rocking himself into a sitting position where he slumped down for a moment, dropping his weight into his elbows where they rested against his knees. His legs were still open. It shouldn’t have been distracting.
He raised his head slightly, blinking up at her through the strands of flyaway hair, before raking them back and standing up.
He sidestepped, swinging his arms around to gesture grandly at the bed, “My lady.” he offered, bowing slightly.
Raven glared, but flopped down anyway.
He didn’t seem to be moving with his usual languidity of arrogance, or even his occasional fervor of purpose, seeming oddly off-kilter, slow and stopping.
“You gonna stand there while I sleep, creep-o?”
“I, uh.” Murphy stuttered. Murphy never stuttered. Sure, sometimes he threatened and cursed and occasionally screamed a little - but he didn’t stutter.
Raven rolled from her stomach to her side, pulling her face out of the mattress enough to raise an eyebrow.
“Come on, you’re weirding me out, Murph, why are you in my room?”
“Do you want a foot massage?” The question came out of left field.
“Do I want a what?” She was too tired for this shit.
Murphy gave one, slow blink, reaching up to brush his thumb against his nose before tipping his head back, rolling his gaze to the ceiling before looking back at her, “I said, do you want a foot massage?”
“You came to my room - waited for me - to offer me a foot massage?’
“You look like your back hurts.”
“And a foot massage is going to help that?”
“I figured if I offered you a back massage you’d punch me in the face.”
“And who are you to deny me that pleasure?”
Murphy huffed, a bitter smile lifting his lips - suddenly he was starting a whole lot more like the Murphy she knew. As he turned to go, she found herself, inexplicably, calling after him.
“Wait!”
Murphy turned back, eyebrows lifted, expectant.
“I want a foot massage.”
Murphy smirked and sat on the bed, leaning back against the wall and pulling her legs into his lap. He pressed his thumbs into the ball of her foot and she looked at him blankly.
“Wrong one.” She meant to smirk, or snap, or something, but her tone was dull. She pushed herself to sitting so she could slump sideways against the wall, just for something to do.
“Just because you can’t feel it doesn’t mean it isn’t hurting. That’s like starving a mute.”
Raven scoffed.
He was surprisingly thorough, spending time on each toe, on each tendon, moving her ankle in the joint gently before moving up to her calf.
“That’s not my foot.”
“Just let me.”
Raven nodded, dropping her head back against the wall and watching him through heavy eyelids.
When he finally moved to her other foot she moaned aloud, the firm press of his fingers finding places she didn’t know were hurting.
“Like that, Birdie?”
“Shut up, Murphy.”
He didn’t say anything else, but with every hitch of her breath she saw him smile.
He pushed his knuckles into the ball of her foot before threading his fingers between her toes, running them through quickly. She gasped. He grinned.
He moved up to her calf again, one hand working while the other traced light, aimless patterns.
It felt good, she had to admit.
“Why are you here, Murphy?”
“You needed this.” It was innocuous enough, but there was a lowness in his tone that had her suppressing a shiver.
“What’s ‘this’?”
“You need to take care of your body’s needs, Raven, and since you’re not, I thought I’d offer to lend a hand.” Murphy’s drawl had dropped what she had assumed to be a perpetual edge - a permanent shadow of sarcasm, that, now gone, left only the slow lilt of a promise.
“My body needs foot massages?”
“Your body needs lots of things.” This time Raven couldn’t stop the shudder that ran down her spine. She lolled her head towards him, gazed drifting over the proud smirk blooming over his face and down his ragged clothing.
“You better be making good on your offer then, Murphy, or my body’s going to be needing to put a fist through your face - and let me tell you, that’s one need I have no problem taking care of myself.”
“Let me do your back, then?”
It wasn’t what she had been expecting, but she lay on her stomach without protest, relaxing as Murphy dropped his weight onto the backs of her thighs.
“I’m going to start where it hurts first, okay? And then I’ll do the rest.”
Raven nodded, unsurprised when Murphy found the knot of throbbing muscles in her lower back without so much as trying.
“I’m not going to tell you it’s not your fault, because it is, but it’s, it’s okay, Murphy.” Raven surprised herself with her own words. She hadn’t known it was okay, but she guessed it was now, even with the aching back.
“I shot you, I should fix it.” his voice let her know she was right, that Murphy was here out of guilt - though up until now she had been sure that guilt was an emotion too human for Murphy to feel.
“Wick made the brace, maybe he should be doing this part.” She felt him tense above her, though his fingers never stopped working.
“He was helping you. I was killing you. There’s a difference.”
“Thanks for the lesson, I’ll be sure to keep it in mind.” Raven hissed through gritted teeth as Murphy began to work in earnest. He was right - it did hurt.
The painful part lasted longer than she had been expecting, but eventually his hands moved away and smoothed softly over her back, thumbs pressing into her shoulders. It wasn’t long before she fell asleep under the languorous touch of the boy who shot her.
When she woke up, Murphy was gone.
“Raven! Where were you yesterday? You disappeared after lunch and then never showed back up.” Clarke sounded more worried than was necessary considering Raven was right in front of her, perfectly fine.
“I’m sorry, I fell asleep.”
Clarke’ eyes widened and Raven saw her mentally counting the hours. She rolled her eyes.
“I’m fine, Clarke.”
“That’s good, you were looking dead on your feet.” Raven pulled a mock-affronted look, laughing when Clarke held up her hands in surrender, “It might be a sign you’re getting sick, though - how are you feeling?”
“Fine, Clarke, I’m feeling fine. Did you need me?” she reminded gently.
“Yeah, Bellamy said he wanted to see if you could take a look at some of the wreckage - he wants to make a couple heating systems before winter gets here.” Winter was coming faster than any of them had expected, the leaves that used to flush the forest with green now layered the ground in a dense carpet of reds and yellows.
“Yeah, of course, I’ll go now.” she nodded.
“Thanks, Raven. I’ll see you at dinner, yeah?”
“See you then.” Raven promised. There wasn’t a lot of time for them to see each other, but Raven knew that as much as she needed girl time, Clarke needed it more. It wasn’t good for anybody to be on high alert all day, and no matter how stressed any of them were, they could always count on Clarke having it worse, and dealing with it better.
Bellamy smiled when he saw her, before his face fell back into it’s usual glare - Raven was pretty sure he didn’t even know he was doing it anymore. “Anything salvageable?” He asked.
“Let’s see.” Raven dropped to one knee, her other leg laying out to the side because of the brace. It was easier to let it do what it wanted than to put all the effort into bending it and placing it under her.
She spent the rest of the day there, sorting through piles of twisted metal and wires, assessing the value of each piece first under her own abilities and then under Wick’s. When she looked up again, it was dusk, and she was late for a dinner date.
“Clarke!”
The blonde turned to look at her, face breaking into a smile. Raven dropped her tray on the board that served as a table and plopped to the ground, landing heavily.
“Octavia! When did you get here?”
“A couple hours ago.” The younger girl smiled, and Raven marveled at how the sweet, butterfly-chasing girl who had landed on earth had changed - so much so that even her smile was that of a warrior’s - all teeth and the promise of blood. “I would have said hi, but you were doing that outer monologue thing again so I figured it was best to leave you to it.”
Clarke laughed. Raven rolled her eyes.
“How long are you staying? Wait, why are you here?”
“I wanted to visit. I missed Bellamy. I missed you guys.” All three girls smiled. They all missed each other, and Raven and Clarke lived in the same camp.
“How’s Lincoln?” She asked.
“Good. Better. The nightmares are less frequent, especially after the dream journal Clarke started him on.”
Raven nodded, her mouth too full to respond properly. She was glad Lincoln was getting better, Octavia was strong, but she shouldn’t have to carry Lincoln on her shoulders as well as the world.
“I’m glad it’s helping.” was all Clarke said, eyes stuck on something over Raven’s shoulder.
Raven turned around, instantly spotting what had Clarke so concerned.
John Murphy was staring at her - a challenge, a question?
She turned back around.
“What’s up with him?” O asked, around a mouthful of potatoes and meat.
“I don’t know. He was in my room when I went back after lunch yesterday.”
“You didn’t tell me that.” Clarke was on high alert.
“He didn’t do anything, it was fine. Actually he, he wanted to apologize for putting me in the brace, I think.”
“You ‘think’?” Clarke was still in mummy-mode.
“Well, he didn’t say it in so many words.” Raven rolled her eyes, “Said it was his fault, that it wasn’t okay, something about needing to fix it? I’m not really sure, I just wanted to pass out.”
“That doesn’t sound like Murphy.” Octavia looked confused.
“No, it doesn’t.” Raven shrugged. Clarke still looked concerned, and Raven reached out, laying a hand on her shoulder, “Hey, don’t worry about it, Clarke. I’m a big girl.”
Clarke nodded distractedly, eyes still on Murphy.
“Octavia!” an excited voice called from the night, and Jasper appeared beside them soon after.
“Jasper!” O flew up, wrapping herself around the boy so tight she may as well have choked him. “Monty!” The second boy received a similar treatment. It looked painful. It looked good.
Bellamy arrived soon after, squeezing in between Clarke and Octavia, and it wasn’t long before the little party was in full swing.
Jasper and Monty pulled several large flasks from somewhere on their persons, and Octavia decided that the best way to teach them the Grounder’s songs would be to sing them repeatedly at the top of their lungs. It worked, amazingly enough, and eventually they were all bellowing butchered versions of what were probably war chants into the night air.
It was nice, Raven decided.
It stayed nice, even when Octavia told them she was leaving at first light.
It stayed nice, even when Bellamy’s face darkened and he stopped talking to his sister.
It stayed nice, even when Mum and Dad murmured to each other in low voices before excusing themselves.
It stayed nice, even when Raven was back in her room, where it was cold and it was black.
It stopped staying nice rather suddenly after Raven found a body that was distinctly not hers in her bed.
Murphy yelled, sitting bolt upright as he woke up.
“What the hell?” Raven shouted.
Murphy didn’t answer.
“Get out.”
He didn’t move.
“Get. Out.”
It was a long time before Raven’s heart returned to a normal tempo.
It was an even longer time before she fell asleep.
I’m sorry.
That’s all the note said. It had been slipped under her door sometime before she woke up. She decided to ignore it.
Murphy didn’t show up to say it in person. She liked that. It meant she didn’t have to see with him.
“Hey, Raven!”
She turned around.
“Are you okay? I heard yelling last night and when I went to go look Murphy was leaving your room. He didn’t hurt you did he?” Miller was everything he was supposed to be - appropriate levels of concern and anger in his voice, yet she noticed that he hadn’t asked her the same thing last night when he was so worried about her.
“Yeah, I’m fine. He just scared me is all.”
“Okay.” Miller sounded doubtful and Raven fought not to feel defensive.
“I can take care of myself, Miller, I promise.”
She didn’t see Murphy for a week after that night, but this time, finding Murphy in her bed didn’t scare or shock her.
“Get out.” She was pissed. The look in his eyes told her he knew she was pissed. It also told her he didn’t care.
“I can’t.” He looked smug. She wanted him to look scared. “I promised to make good on my offer, remember? I may be a lot of things, Birdie, but I don’t break promises.”
“Somehow I don’t believe that.”
“Well, I don’t break promises to pretty girls then.” He was smirking. He was always smirking.
“Yet you don’t seem to have a problem breaking into their living spaces.”
Murphy shrugged, “If you really want me to go, I’ll go.”
“Why were you in my room last week?” Her voice was sharp.
He didn’t answer.
“Why were you in my room last week?” If Raven had been threatening before, she was downright lethal now.
“I said I’m sorry, okay?” He wouldn’t look at her, chin jutted obstinately as he glared at the wall.
“Murphy.” She looked at him pointedly.
“I don’t have to tell you.”
“Then get out.”
“I wasn’t trying to,” Murphy broke off frustrated, running a hand through his hair, “I wasn’t trying to scare you, or anything. I thought you’d be back a lot sooner, I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I wasn’t there to hurt you.”
Raven sat on the bed, waiting.
“I wasn’t.” Murphy stressed.
“I know you weren’t, but I already knew that. Now, you have two options, Murphy, and in case you forgot what they are - which it seems you have - that means you can tell me why the hell you were in my bed last week, or you can leave.”
Murphy looked surprised, but then he looked down, scuffing one shoe a little. “Nightmare.”
Raven nodded, then patted the bed beside her. Murphy’s eyes widened again, but he sat next to her quickly. She didn’t know why Murphy had gone to her room after a nightmare, but they all had them, they all knew how bad they were.
“What’s on the agenda for today?” she asked, small, lopsided smile matching the look in her eyes.
Murphy blinked, long and slow, a smirk building on his lips. “Well,” he started, leaning back, arms behind his head, I was thinking we could start with your back this time - since that hurts more - and then move on to your feet, and then, I don’t know, see what happens?” His head lolled to face her and he waggled his eyebrows, she huffed out a laugh, rolling her eyes.
“Get up then.”
He complied, letting her stretch out on her stomach before straddling her thighs.
It hurt, but less than before, and the pain bled away quicker than last time. She didn’t fall asleep, but it was a close thing, his hands rough and warm against her back, his fingers pressing into her skin.
“Why are you so good at this?” She groaned, pressing her face deeper into the blankets.
“It’s a gift.” he rasped, leaning closer to her body. She liked the way his weight fell over her.
His hands on her feet felt just as good as before, and when he went for her calf on her good leg, he didn’t stop at the knee. He leaned down to kiss her thigh right above where he was kneading.
“Good?” He asked.
“Good.” She affirmed.
And it was good - even Finn hadn’t spent this much time taking care of her.
When Murphy starting to mock her panting and bitten-back groans she was surprised to find herself laughing instead of angry. She put a hand over his mouth to shut him up, complaining when he licked it.
“You’re so gross.” She whined. “That’s so gross.”
“Is it though?” Murphy cocked his head leaning in to recapture her hand. Licking a long, slow stripe across her palm she watched, somewhat wide-eyed, as her fingers twitched in response. He pressed a kiss at the base of her fingers, tongue darting out to swipe at the webbing flicking into the sensitive crease between her digits. She gasped. He chuckled, and it was hot air washing over her hand.
“I did not know about this.” Raven muttered, accusatory.
“Like I said, Birdie, you haven’t spent enough time taking care of your body.” He hadn’t pulled away from her hand, and his lips brushing over her skin sent shocks down her arm. She wasn’t ready when he pulled two of her fingers into his mouth, but she thought it was almost better that way. He sucked gently, swirling his tongue.
“What do you mean, you just happened to find this out doing this to yourself.”
“No lube in the skybox.” Murphy pulled off to mutter. Raven’s head flooded with images.
He hummed lowly and she could feel the vibrations everywhere. It made her hair tingle.
“I will pay you to do that again.”
Murphy huffed out a laugh, but complied, a rumbling hum layering the room over the sucking of his mouth.
She was sitting up against the head of the bed, braced against the wall, Murphy positioned mostly on top of her, stretched out on his front with his weight in his arms as he languished her fingers in hot, open-mouthed kisses, his tongue darting into the creases, sliding between her fingers.
He kissed his way up her wrist, licking quick stripes occasionally, and biting gently at her shoulder. He wrapped one arm around her hips, pulling her down until she was laying down completely, dropping his gaze to her lips. He flicked his eyes up to meet hers, and she surged up to catch his mouth with hers.
If she had to pinpoint the exact point Murphy started to lose it, she would have guessed it was then. He kissed less like he was kissing and more like he was attacking her mouth. It was deep and thorough and utterly overwhelming. Even as she twisted his jacket in her fists, pulling him to her, she was struggling to breathe.
She uncurled her fingers, sliding her hands beneath the outer layer and pushing the jacket off his shoulders, he wasted little time in ripping it the rest of the way off. Her shirt followed. He was onto her neck now, and she was already writhing, hands going from his shoulders, to the wall behind her head, to either side of the bed. He kissed through her bra, and she thought they might be re-entering known territory, though it quickly became clear they were not.
Murphy seemed past words, and when she caught a glimpse of his eyes her heartbeat spiked. They were wild and unfocused, his pupils blown, breathing was uneven, and he left a bite mark on the inside of her hipbone that stayed an angry red long after he stopped licking over it.
She started to say his name, started to say something important, but then his head was between her legs, and he was licking her through the material of her jeans, which were quickly removed by Murphy’s scrabbling fingers.
When Finn ate her out, he was soft, and slow, and long licks and gentle sucking. Bellamy was quick but never frantic, efficiently bringing her to the edge and over. Murphy was chaos. The human embodiment of frantic, his mouth covering her slit as he licked up and down with a feverish fervor. His tongue thrust inside her and she clenched involuntarily, eyes rolling back and hips canting up to meet his attack as he slid his jaw back and forth.
When she started grinding against his mouth he pressed a heavy arm over her hips, holding her down. Her fingers were threaded so tightly in his hair she knew it had to hurt but all she could think about was getting him to move just a little bit higher.
And he did, eventually, pressing two fingers inside her, he crooked them just right, holding a steady pressure as he flicked his tongue across her clit. She slid her legs up until they were draped across his shoulders, and he wrapped his free hand around her thigh, tilting her hips to get the angle he wanted, pressing closer, deeper. It didn’t take long after that for her orgasm to hit, and after everything Murphy had just put her through, it hit hard. Wave after wave crashed over her, and everytime she thought it was over he would move just right and it would start all over.
She had barely caught her breath before he was on her, rolling inside her with one fluid movement, forehead pressed against her collarbone and he pulled himself as close to her as possible. He didn’t work his way up to a manageable pace, but started at the peak of intensity, hips snapping too fast for her to catch up.
Raven could give as good as she got, she wasn’t afraid to ask for what she wanted, and she enjoyed making her partner feel good almost as much as she enjoyed feeling good herself - but this? This was something else entirely, something she didn’t even know to want until now.
She tossed her legs over his back, heels digging in as she shifted so she could rock up into his thrusts. Murphy was panting, slick lips sticking to her skin where his face was buried. Her hands had never untangled from their hold in his hair, and she lets one drop now, sliding down to brush over the taunt tendons in his neck, before finding a grip on his shoulder. Murphy turned to press a slack kiss against her wrist, looking up at her with those dark, wild eyes. She shuddered - there was nothing human left inside that black gaze.
Some endless amount of time later, Murphy shifted, pulling her legs up to his shoulders again, where his thrusts slowed to a mind numbing grind, his pubic bone hard against her clit as he rolled his hips inside her. Ducking under her bum foot, he let both legs fall to the side, flipping her over in one neat, and wholly unexpected, move. She gasped as he twisted inside her, and he rumbled deep in his chest, already pulling her up against him with one arm, dropping the other to brace himself as he started rocking into her again, slower this time, letting her push back.
His head had dropped instantly into the dip between her shoulders, and his breath fanned warm across her back. His arm stayed firm below her breasts, holding her up, and tight against him. Trusting his support, she reached up with one hand and threaded her fingers back into his hair, pulling him into a skilless kiss that ended with him nuzzling her neck. He sat up suddenly, and without warning, pulling her with him. She sank deeper on to his cock, panting and moaning. Her head dropped back onto his shoulder and he took the opportunity to mouth at her throat. Taking her weight with his left arm, he dropped his right arm to her clit, circling her with a punishing ferocity that had her clenching down on him within minutes. His thrusts became quicker and more uneven as he fucked her through her orgasm, drawing out aftershock after aftershock with timed touches and rolls of his hips. He finished as she clenched down hard, and they rode out the waves together, collapsing face first on the bed, Murphy a boneless mass of weight on top of her. Instead of feeling annoyed, she felt safe, his cock softening inside her as they struggled to catch their breaths.
When Raven started to become less aware of the warmth and weight of Murphy and more aware of the sweat and difficulty breathing she tried to shift out from under him. He threaded his fingers through hers, the first sign of movement since he had collapsed and let his weight drop mostly off of her, though he made no other effort to let her go. It was okay though. She could wait.
It was a long few minutes before Murphy’s breathing had returned to normal.
Turning her head, Raven whispered, “You back with us?” feeling Murphy’s answering nod on her back.
“That was intense, huh?”
Another nod.
“I’m going to get up and get a wet rag, okay?”
At his last nod, Raven got up, slowly extricating herself from Murphy’s hold, pausing once when his fingers tightened around her hand, “I’m coming right back.” She reassured. She hopped across the room, using the wall for support, and fished a rag out of the cool water in the bucket by the door. Wringing it out, she made her way back, sliding onto the bed.
“Can you turn over for me?” Murphy made a low noise of protest, but turned onto his back, letting her wipe him down before she cleaned herself. When she was finished she threw the rag into her dirty clothes and climbed back into Murphy’s embrace, wrapping her arms around him and laying her head on his chest.
“Can you talk yet?”
“Yeah.” Murphy let his eyes drop to hers, signature smirk already returning to his face. “You good?”
“So good.” Raven sighed, rolling onto her back as he rolled onto his side. “You?”
“Yeah, I just, yeah, I’m good.” He was tracing patterns on her sides, her stomach. His eyes still looked unfocused, but he seemed a little more in control.
“Warn me next time, yeah? If you’re feeling like that might need to happen.”
Raven slid a look over to the side, watching his expression at the promise of again.
“Yeah, oh yeah.”
“You’re so articulate.”
“My brains just blew out my dick, sorry for not being Aristotle.”
Raven just laughed.