John Murphy (one shots)

Trapped (part 2)

A/N: part 2 of the first "Trapped." Read that one first and it'll make more sense 😂. Murphy x fem in the lighthouse bunker. She is helping Murphy with the scratches she gave him during sex and they open up to each other. Emotionally and physically 😉

⚠️ WARNINGS ⚠️: smut, swearing, sexual tension, alcohol, mention of rape, NSFW.

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I'm sitting on a stool in front of the bar. Murphy is sitting with his back to me so I have a good look at his scratches. I found some medical supplies in a closet a few days ago and I'm using it now. Every once in a while, he swears under his breath and hisses at the feel of the rubbing alcohol on his fresh wounds. I need to clean them out though or they'll get infected. I would feel worse about giving these to him if he didn't smirk over his shoulder constantly. I think he likes being shirtless in front of me.

"Enjoying the view?" he asks over his shoulder, grinning at me.

"I'd enjoy it more if you'd sit still," I say, frowning and throwing away another cotton ball.

"You love it," he grumbles, sitting still anyway.

"That I do," I say, planting my lips on the back of his shoulder. "You're just a tad too cocky."

He lifts the shoulder I kissed. "You don't seem to mind."

"Do you see anyone else in this bunker for me to bone?" I ask, resting my chin on his shoulder and looking up into his eyes.

He looks down at me. "I don't see you complaining about the limited selection."

I grin, shaking my head. "I'm not complaining."

"Good," he replies quickly, eyes darting to my lips, "because I want to fuck you to sleep."

A chill runs through me as my lips move closer to his. "Then do it."

He smirks, glancing at my mouth and keeping his gaze there. "I've been trying not to for the past twenty minutes."

"That must suck," I say, narrowing my eyes for half a second before they return to their regular size.

"It does," he says, eyebrows rising then falling. Then something changes in him. The playfulness of his words completely disappears. "Let me fuck you."

I take a deep breath, pulling away and looking at the fridge. "I'm not drunk enough for that."

I walk around the island, pulling the glass topper from the short, crystal bottle of scotch. My hands work fast as I take two glasses from the cabinet and place them on the counter. I go to the fridge, opening it and grabbing ice from the little bag. I put equal ice cubes in each glass before pouring the alcohol in the glasses. I'm not ashamed to admit that I pour a little too much inside. Once they're full, I hand Murphy a glass and lean against the island next to him, sipping from mine. He's put his shirt back on which is lucky for me because I swear I would've gotten distracted and dug my nails into his chest. It wouldn't help to give him even more wounds.

He stands in front of me, taking a long swig from his drink. "You trying to get me drunk?"

"Worked before, didn't it?" I say, smirking now too.

He sighs, shaking his head. "Why do you have to say things like that when I'm sure you know they drive me absolutely crazy?"

I grin, sitting on one of the stools and swallowing down another gulp of scotch. "Why don't you just sit and have a drink with me?"

He grins, slowly moving to the chair on the other side of the corner and sliding into it. He sips slowly from his glass, eyes wandering my frame. "Why don't you tell me the story about your arrest?"