#murphy macmanus fanfic

[twdeadfanfic]

Roses are Red, Violets are Blue...-Fanfic Advent Calendar 2022 Day 3 - Murphy MacManus

Murphy MacManus x female Reader

Summary: This one-shot is part of @lilythemadqueen Fanfict Advent Calendar event. My prompt was “Roses are red, violets are blue, merry Christmas bitch, I love you.” Reader goes to spend Christmas evening with the MacManus twins. There’s fluff and some smut here.

You rushed out of the taxi and towards the MacManus building, already grinning at the idea of seeing the twins, and also already a bit tipsy.

It was Christmas day and you had spent most of the day with your family, but now, in the evening, you were visiting Murphy and Connor, who loved Christmas but couldn’t afford to travel back home to visit their mother that year, and who’d asked you if you wanted to go to their place to celebrate.

Their place wasn’t the most comfortable, but how could you refuse, with how much fun you always had with the twins, and you also knew that they were feeling down about not being able to visit their mother for Christmas, so you wanted to be there for them on Christmas day.

Knocking on their door, you heard their voices and then they opened the door at the same time, knocking into each other…yes, they were not only fun, they were also rather endearing.

“Roses are red, violets are blue, merry Christmas bitches, I love you,” was the greeting that you offered, which had sounded way more fun and cute in your head than it did when you heard it out aloud, and maybe were you a bit more tipsy than you had thought?

Connor seemed to be of the same opinion, and he snorted. “Look at that, brother, lass’s already drunk! And to think that we were savin’ the good whiskey for when she arrived…”

“Aye!” Murphy nodded, with that pretty smile that you found so charming and those bright eyes that you found so beautiful. “Gettin’ drunk without us, love? That’s rude…”

Before you could say anything in protest, Murphy was already tugging you inside, while Connor headed to the counter to take a bottle of whiskey.

“Wait, wait, presents first, booze later,” you said, taking off your coat and throwing it on a chair, before reaching inside your bag and taking out a box wrapped with green paper.

Both twins looked at the gift with eyes bright as kids…they could be so cute sometimes. Both of them reached at the same time for the box and you pulled it back.

“No fighting, it can break, if you don’t behave I’ll open it myself,” you warned them.

After some snapping and slapping each other's hands, Connor let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine, let my greedy, needy little brother open it,” he grumbled.

“Little brother my ass…” Murphy muttered, too focused on the gif that you were handing him to snap much at his brother.

“Careful…” You reminded him at his eager hands, and so he placed it on the coffee table, unwrapping it with more care than you’d have expected.

Once the paper was off, it revealed a pack set of a bottle of whiskey, the same one that Connor had been reaching for before you asked them to open presents, and two matching glasses for it.

You had been very unsure when choosing what to get for the MacManus, and you were very nervous at it, but they both were grinning as they looked at it, so you hoped they liked it for real.

“Thanks, love!” Murphy told you, reaching to open the box, but Connor slapped his hand with a muttered ‘careful’.

“Aye, lass, real nice, thanks!” Connor said as he opened the box himself, carefully taking out the matching glasses and the bottle of whiskey.

“I’m sorry that it’s a brand that you already have,” you apologized. “But that way I knew that you liked it.”

“Aye, lass, we do, our favorite.” Connor nodded.

“And our best!” Murphy nodded along. “But, love, we need to get ye a glass too, aye? So yer not left out!”

You tried to ignore the warm twirls in your belly at Murphy’s words…it was a foolish feeling. “I can get a glass, but these two are especially for you both MacManus,” you told him. “And finally there are actual glasses in this household!”

“Aye!” Both twins nodded to that.

“Now yours!” Murphy said as he handed you a shapeless, wrapped gift. He looked excited as a kid, it was endearing,

As you tore the paper, you found a soft, white scarf. “It’s so beautiful!” You said as you ran your hands over the material.

“Irish wool, love, we asked our ma’ to send it from Ireland,” Murphy told you.

“Aye! It’s the softest, lass!” Connor agreed.

“I can feel it!” The beautiful fabric felt soft and warm. “Thank you, guys, I love it!”

You leaned to hug both twins at the same time, wrapping an arm around each, their arms wrapping around you too, hugging you even a bit too tight, but you were not going to complain, the MacManus hugs were just the best.

“Now…booze!” Connor cheered, bringing the whiskey bottle and the glass that you usually used, while you carefully took out of the packet their new glasses.

You three talked about this and that while you drank, about your family's Christmas that day, about their Christmas back in Ireland, stuff going on in your lives, and just any random thought or occurrence that came across your mind…one thing for sure, you were never bored with the MacManus. 

Even when they grumbled and complained whenever you kicked them out so you could go to their doorless bathroom, it always ended up being more fun than embarrassing, while in turn, you grumbled and complained every time they didn’t have any qualms about using the bathroom with you right there…you appreciated the familiarity with which they treated you, you truly loved it, but sometimes, just sometimes, in cases like those, it might get a bit too much.

Neither of you minded it much, though, and everything was as fun as always.

You were sat down on the sofa, between both brothers, and what started like Murphy animatedly gesturing around while he spoke, ended up with his arm casually thrown over your shoulders. You wouldn’t complain, though…in fact, the drunker you got, the more you leaned against him, but he was not complaining either.

You tried not to read much into it, though, both brothers were prone to physical affection, which was something that you loved about them, so you knew that Murphy’s gesture didn’t mean that he wanted anything more besides friendship with you…but you would soak in the feeling of his arm around your shoulders, on the pressure and the warmth of his body against yours, for as long as you could.

“Okay, guys…” You sighed after several hours…you were pretty much lying against Murphy’s chest by now, but you were too tired and kind of drunk to feel shy about it. “I can’t keep my eyes open anymore. I should try to get myself a taxi and go home.”

“Nah, lass, it’s late, stay here,” Connor said. “Sleep it off.”

“Aye.” Murphy nodded, and he seemed drowsy too.

“Sleep here om an old sofa and with a bathroom with no door…tempting,” you half-joked.

“Mean.” Murphy nudged your shoulder with his forehead almost catlike…and almost as if he were going to fall asleep on you. “Come on, love, it’s too late and yer too drank, we’ll feel better if ye stay.

“Aye, ye’re not gonna sleep on a sofa, ye take me or my brother’s bed,” Connor told you.

“But…”

“But nothin’, lass,” Connor didn’t let you complain even if you felt bad stealing their beds. “I’ll throw a coin…” He got one from his trousers pocket. “Heads for me, tails for Murph,” Connor said, Murphy just shrugged, and Connor threw the coin. “Tails.” He grinned at his brother. “Lass gets yer bed.”

“Okay, okay…get out of my bed ye two, then,” Murphy gestured dramatically at the sofa.

You didn’t know what made you speak up, if it was the alcohol, if it was being pressed to Murphy’s side for most of the night, your ever-growing crush on him, or just you feeling guilty about taking his bed…whatever it was, you went for it.

“Actually, I, uh…this sofa is not the most comfortable, and it’s your bed, so, I don’t mind sharing it,” you told him before you could think it too much.

“Are ye sure, love?” Murphy frowned at you. “I don’t mind the sofa.”

“I don’t mind us sharing the bed…” You shrugged, trying to appear casual and to not show how flustered the idea of sleeping next to Murphy got you, but also how much you wished for it... “But if you’re not comfortable with it, it’s okay…” You tried not to show your insecurity while thinking that Murphy might not want to sleep near you.

“I don’t mind, love, better sharin’ my bed with ye than sleepin’ alone on this sofa, aye?” Murphy said and you were not sure if he was joking or not, but his words sent twirls to your belly anyway, and his frown had given way to a smile, which was reassuring.

“Aye,” you imitated his accent, to which Murphy playfully pouted at you, and the use to urge to kiss those pouty lips was almost overwhelming, but you were not drunk enough, and he was already moving.

“Let’s get ye somethin’ to sleep in…”

Soon, you were kicking the grumbling twins outside so you could use the bathroom and change from your clothes into the t-shirt and sweatpants that Murphy had given you, calling yourself foolish at the giddy twirls that danced in your belly at the idea of wearing Murphy’s clothes. 

As always, they weren’t shy about using the bathroom or changing clothes with you right here, while you averted your eyes and complained about how much they embarrassed you and how much they seemed to enjoy it.

When Murphy headed to the bed wearing just a t-shirt and his underwear, just like his also shameless brother, you had to tell yourself not to stare and ogle him, and make things weird…it was not easy not to stare, though.

“Which side of the bed do you prefer?” You asked Murphy so you’d look at the bed instead of at him.

“Don’t care.”

“I’ll leave you the one nearer your brother, I know you two always have to be next to each other,” you said, smiling and the indignant huffs that the twins let out.

You crawled under the sheets at the side of the bed closer to the wall, trying not to overthink how you were in Murphy’s bed, but it was difficult with him lying next to you. You were trying to keep your distance, even if the bed was not big and even if you really did not want to, feeling like pressing closer to Murphy, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, to overstep boundaries…and you didn’t want to be a creep.

Still, you allowed yourself to enjoy the closeness to Murphy, and the warmth coming from him, trying to stop the thoughts that wondered how warm and comfortable it’d feel to curl up with him…One thing for sure, this night would feed your daydreams for all days to come.

“Sleep it is,” Connors said from his bed, yawing and looking half-asleep already, and he reached to turn off the light.

“‘night, love,” whispered Murphy, and his low rasp right next to you sent a warm feeling to your belly that you tried to ignore.

“Goodnight,” you whispered back, once again trying to control your thoughts and wishes.

Murphy shuffled on the bed as if trying to get more comfortable, his body and his warmth getting torturously close to you. There was the faintest brush of his leg to yours, but you didn’t have much time to enjoy it, or to be tortured by it, since you were drunk and more than tired too, and soon, you were falling asleep.

*

You woke up a few hours later when the first rays of sun began to softly light the MacManus’s place… Of course, your slowly awakening brain thought, the MacManus wouldn’t have curtains…not surprising, considering they didn’t even have a proper bathroom.

You were feeling very warm and comfortable, and soon you realized that Murphy’s arm was wrapped around you, holding you. He seemed to have moved closer to you while you both slept, curling up to you as you had wished to do, and so his chest was pressed against your back as his arm held you firmly to him, and you could even feel his breathing on your shoulder.

Warm twirls began dancing in your belly, and your heart seemed to be doing a little dance too, even if your rational mind tried to tell you that Murphy didn’t know what he was doing, he’d moved closer and hugged you in his sleep, not consciously…but you couldn’t help how it made you feel.

You basked in that warm feeling, on Murphy’s touch and on the feeling of his body so close to yours. You wistfully wished that you could stay like that for the whole day, and you hoped Murphy would take long to wake up. 

You tried to shift even closer to Murphy, careful not to wake him, and you smiled when his arm held you even tighter at that…if only this were your everyday morning.

Soon, you heard Murphy murmuring something in his sleep, pulling you even closer to him, nuzzling your neck, and you felt as if your heart was going to burst, the butterflies in your belly were going crazy, even if you tried to tell yourself not to be foolish, not to get your hopes high, Murphy was asleep and he didn’t know what he was doing…

You felt the moment in which Murphy woke up completely, because he stopped nuzzling you, instead going rigid against you before moving away in such haste that he almost fell off the bed.

“Shit…fuck, lass, I’m sorry, I…” He stumbled over his words, apologizing.

“It’s okay…” You whispered, feeling shy now that Murphy was awake, but you wanted him to know that you didn’t mind him holding you…actually, you wanted him to know that you enjoyed it very, very much, but you weren’t sure if he may have enjoyed it too or if it was just him moving in his sleep. “I really didn’t mind, it’s okay…” You moved to lay on your back instead of your side, but you were still too shy to face him.

“Aye?” Murphy whispered back and you nodded.

“Yeah…” You made yourself turn to look at him, and even in the dim room, you could see how his cheeks were flushed. He seemed shy and still a bit sleepy, hair all over the place… He was so beautiful, and you could still feel his warmth, his body next to yours…you decided to go for it. 

“In fact, it was, uh…it was a very nice way to wake up…well, and to sleep too…it was…comfy.” Great, wonderful…you almost facepalmed yourself at your choice of words. “I mean…it’s nice, you know…to be held…” You were feeling shyer and shyer, and you decided to just shut up.

Murphy, though, nodded. “Aye…” He murmured. “Aye, it is.”

Slowly, Murphy moved closer again, reaching out his arm but looking at you as if checking that you were okay with it. He wasn’t usually so hesitant and shy when showing physical affection, and it was endearing in a way.

You moved closer too, trying to encourage him, to show him that you wanted to cuddle again, and so Murphy finally wrapped his arm around you. You reached out to hug him too, and when you did that, Murphy pulled you even closer, so you were snuggled against his chest.

You let out a content sigh, losing the fight against the butterflies twirling in your belly, but you were still afraid that you may be getting your hopes too high, and you feared Murphy may be just indulging you.

“Are you comfortable?” You whispered.

“Aye,” Murphy whispered back, softly nuzzling your head again, holding you so close…he really did seem to mean it, he seemed to be enjoying it too…

But still, that didn’t mean anything, that didn’t mean he’d share your feelings…and it kept bothering you.

“Murphy…I, uh…I have to tell you something…” You finally spoke up, even if you feared you’d ruin the moment and you’d never be held like this by Murphy again.

“Hm?” He sounded as if he was falling asleep again, chin on top of your head as he held you so close to him, close enough that you could hide on his chest as you tried to confess your feelings to him.

“I, uh…I like you…really like you, you know, I have feelings for you, I had for a while now, so, uh…yeah…” You got it out before you could regret it and change your mind, but when Murphy didn’t say anything, you began to worry. “Murphy? I’m sorry…if you want me to get out of your bed now, I’ll do it…”

You were not moving away, though, since you were feeling too shy to face Murphy, and your heart was hurting, but then Murphy was holding you tighter anyway, as if he was afraid that you were going to try to leave.

He kept his arm around you but moved back so he could look at you…Usually cheerful, chatterbox Murphy was now serious and silent as he looked at you intently, and you had to look down. Then, though, you felt his hand on your chin, making you look at him again.

Murphy’s hand moved from your chin to your cheek, cupping your face, and then he was leaning in and kissing your lips. You were surprised, but you kissed him back out of instinct, your hand going to his neck while you felt like the butterflies in your belly were making you float.

You lost track of time while Murphy and you kissed, him pulling you even closer, and you didn’t know how much time had passed when you finally broke the kiss, pulling back so you could speak, or try to, since Murphy chased your lips to kiss you again.

“Murphy,” you murmured against his lips. “Wait, wait a second.” You moved away again, though it was hard to resist Murphy’s pouty lips.

“What?” He all but whined, and somehow, it was adorable.

“Does this mean, that, uh…” You might have been making out with Murphy two seconds ago, but now you were shy with words. “That you…you know…”

“That I what, like ye? Ye gotta ask, love?” Murphy chuckled, a cocky smile on his face, and you huffed, rolling your eyes, but you were feeling too elated to be annoyed, a smile on your face, and Murphy kissed you again. “What ye, think, uh?” He said against your lips before pecking them once more. “Of course, I like ye, love.” 

You smiled, letting out a delighted but kind of embarrassing giggle against Murphy’s lips, but you didn’t have time to be ashamed of the sound before Murphy was kissing you again, until you couldn't think or feel anything that wasn’t him.

Eventually, his lips traveled to your neck, and you felt him smile whenever he found a ticklish spot. You didn’t know when he’d place it there, but Murphy’s hand seemed to be on your ass now and he was pushing you even closer, your leg hooking around his hips, and the almost whine that Murphy let out, muffled against your neck, when he ground his hips against you, sent a tingle through all your body, and you rocked back against him.

Some part of your mind, though, remembered where you were…The MacManus’ home, a place with no privacy even to go to the bathroom, with Connor sleeping on his bed just a couple of meters away from Murphy’s.

“Murphy…” You whispered, but it turned into a soft cry when he pushed you so you’d lie completely on your back, rocking his hips against yours again and kissing your lips. “Wait, Murph…” You tried again, muffled against his lips, but you couldn’t really get yourself to stop him.

“What…” He stopped kissing you just enough to ask.

“Your brother’s right there…” You whispered, but Murphy didn’t stop, pinning you against his bed and almost making you forget what you wanted to say “Murphy…He may wake up….”

“Don’t care.” His hips seemed to angle you just right as he said that, his hardness brushing against you in a way that made you wonder why you actually cared that Connor was right there, and you rocked back despite your better judgment, letting out a stifle mewl that had Murphy smiling against your lips.

“Murph…” Whether you were moaning his name or trying to ask him to stop,  you weren’t sure, but your hips betrayed your worrying mind as they kept moving with Murphy’s, encouraging him.

After a deep kiss that took your breath away, Murphy pulled back, looking at you with heavy-lidded eyes in a way that made you feel even more heated. 

His serious face gave way to a smile when you arched against his touch as he slid his hands under the shirt that you were wearing, stroking your bare skin, before sliding his hands down again, hooking his fingers on the waistband of the sweatpants he’d given you.

“He’s going to wake up…” You half-complained, half-warned, glazing at Connor’s sleeping form, but you were lifting your butt off the bed so Murphy could take off your sweatpants anyway.

“And?” Murphy had carelessly scrunched the sweatpants as he slid them down your legs, leaving them somewhere between the sheets, while his lips were already brushing a path of hot kisses across your thigh, and again, you almost forgot why you cared about Connor.

“He’ll notice us…” You murmured, or tried to, while Murphy’s lips made you sigh with every kiss and nibble.

“I don’t care…” His lips sucked a mark on your other thigh and you gasped a bit louder than you’d have wanted to.

“I do…” You whined, but when your hand reached down to Murphy, it was not to stop him but to stroke his hair. “It’ll be mortifying, I…” 

You didn’t get to say whatever you were trying to say, because Murphy chose that moment to bury his face between your thighs, placing a kiss on your clothed heath, his nose brushing your clit over your panties as he did so.

“Shit!” You squealed, half in surprise and louder than you’d wanted to be, so you turned to look at Connor to make sure he was still asleep, fingers tightening on Murphy’s hair so he’d stop but it just seemed to make him moan against your core, which didn’t help your situation. “Murph…” You whined.

Another kiss that made your hips rock back against his head with a stifled whimper, and Murphy pulled back slightly to look at you, fingers playing with the waistband of your panties.

“So ye want me to stop, then?” He asked, and you didn’t know if he was genuine or if he was just enjoying teasing you, but the mischief in his eyes told you that it was the second…you wanted to curse and kick him while at the same time you wanted to shove his face between your legs again.

You glanced at Connor again…it was not that you didn’t care that he may wake up, but you were too worked up to stop Murphy, so you just shook your head, and you almost pushed Murphy’s head against you again, but considering his grin, you had to wonder if he may not have minded it.

Murphy had taken down your pants in less than it took you to blink, leaving them forgotten somewhere between the sheets, and then he was placing open-mouthed kisses on your inner thighs, getting closer and closer to your center, and you tried not to actually whine as you wiggled your hips, chasing his lips.

When he finally kissed you center, tongue sliding over your wetness before his lips encircled your clit, you had to bite the back of your hand to stifle your cry. Your thighs clamped on his head, but judging by his moan, Murphy didn’t seem to mind, though soon he was pushing your thighs onto the bed again.

You tried your best to muffle every moan, gasp, and sound that you couldn’t help but let out as Murphy kept going, almost making you forget that Connor could just wake up and catch you and his brother like that, too lost on how Murphy was making you feel.

When you came, you had to bite your hand again, barely remembering to try to be quiet, and still, you were pretty certain you were a bit too loud, but you couldn’t care, crying out as your back arched on the bed and your fingers tightened even more on Murphy’s hair, while Murphy kept going even then.

He didn’t stop until you loosened your grip on him, panting, trying to catch your breath, glancing at Connor, and even though you were relieved to find him still asleep, you were too blissed out to really care.

Murphy kissed your center once again, making your hips jerk, and then he placed soft kisses over your thighs again. He lifted the t-shirt that you were wearing enough to kiss your belly, and then he slid up your body, looking at you and smiling before kissing your lips.

“Okay?” He asked you quietly when he pulled back.

“Yeah…yeah…better than okay,” you panted, regretting it at his smug smile…he was going to get all arrogant now…

You were sure Murphy was going to make a cocky remark, but he just grinned at you in a way that took your breath away at how beautiful and adorable he looked, before he kissed you deeply.

As you kissed, his hardness kept insistently brushing against your naked, sensitive core, and Murphy kept letting out needy sounds against your lips, pressing even harder against you, until you couldn’t help yourself anymore, throwing all caution through the window.

You pushed at Murphy, and he seemed confused and even worried until he realized what you were trying to do, grinning as he let you push him onto his back with you straddling him. 

This time, it was you who slid your hands under his t-shirt, stroking his hot skin, lifting his t-shirt on your way as you rocked your hips, your heat sliding against his boner. Murphy cursed, closing his eyes as he tilted his head back, and you took advantage of that, leaning to kiss and nibble his neck.

“Fuck, love…” He half-whined, half-cursed, grabbing your waist to make you rock against him again, and you pulled back to look at him, enjoying the look on his face as much as the sounds he was letting out, you were too into it now to remember to tell Murphy to keep it quiet.

Murphy’s hands loosened the grip on your hips, sliding up your torso and to your breast, and so you grabbed your t-shirt to take it off.

“What the fuck…”

You heard Connor’s voice when your head was covered with your shirt as you took it off, and you squealed, letting the t-shirt fall over your body again. 

You looked towards Connor’s bed, finding him blinking at Murphy and you, seeming very sleepy and confused, so you threw yourself off Murphy, covering your body with the sheets and frantically trying to find your pants somewhere between them.

“Connor! Fuck, get back to sleep!” Murphy snapped at his brother while you kept trying to find your underwear.

“But…what…”

“Get the fuck out of here or go back to sleep!” Murphy snapped again and you heard Connor huffing an annoyed okay. 

“Love?” Murphy called for you, you were pretty much buried under the sheets, and you finally found your pants, struggling to put them on. “Love…it’s okay, Connor’s not lookin’, come out of there…” 

Murphy pulled the sheet off your head and you glared at him, embarrassed, finally managing to pull up your underwear, and you searched for your sweatpants, but Murphy stopped you with a hand on your hip, turning to face you.

“I’m sorry but…he’s not lookin’ now, aye?” Murphy told you softly, nodding towards Connor, who had covered himself with the sheets, curling up with his back to Murphy and you. “Just ignore him…”

Murphy tried to kiss you again, pulling you closer, but you didn’t let him. “Are you serious?!” You huffed. “We’re not doing…this in front of your brother!” You weren’t really surprised that Murphy didn’t care about his brother’s presence, though.

“He doesn’t care…” Murphy said as if that solved anything, but before you could complain again, his lips were on yours, his hand on your ass pulling your hips flush with him again, bucking into you, making you let out a small moan despite yourself.

“Murph…” You said against his lips, willing your body to move away from him but kissing him back anyway, and you fleetly wondered what was wrong with you, if kisses were melting your brain somehow. “Murphy, we can’t…”

“Come on, love, please…he’s asleep again…” Murphy whined, begged almost, still holding you close.

You bit your lip as you looked at him and…were you really considering this? You pulled away from him, searching for the sweatpants before Murphy could make you fall into temptation again or before you could let those pouty lips and begging puppy eyes take control over your brain.

“He's right, lass, I don’t care…” Connor’s voice came from his bed, muffled as if he was still covered with the sheets, but it only made you feel more embarrassed…he’d already seen enough.

You dodged Murphy's grabby hands and sat up on the bed to put on the sweatpants, while Murphy kept trying to reach for you, but you swatted his hands away every time he managed to get a hold of you, ignoring his pout and puppy eyes.

You got out of the bed, out of reach from a now sulking Murphy, but you leaned closer to kiss his lips. You weren’t mad and you didn’t regret what had happened between you two, and you didn’t want Murphy maybe thinking so, but when he wrapped his arms around you and tried to pull you into the bed again, you pulled away, breaking free from his hold, pecking his pouty lips once before you turned around.

“I’m going to get some coffee ready,” you announced heading to the kitchen area.

With your back turned to the twins as you fumbled with their coffee pot, you heard what you thought was Murphy throwing his pillow at Connor. “Couldn’t ye wait to wake up and open yer stupid mouth?”

“The fuck did I know…” Connor huffed a complaint, throwing the pillow back at Murphy. “Didn’t expect ye both to actually get at it this mornin’...”

“Shut up you both!” You snapped without turning to look at them, truly mortified. “Please…” You sighed.

“Yeah…sorry, lass…” Connor apologized sheepishly.

You heard the rustle of the sheets and the bedsprings as one of the brothers got up, and soon, arms were sneaking around you as Murphy held you from behind, kissing your shoulder and nuzzling your head, and you couldn’t help your smile.

Murphy made you turn around so you’d be facing him while he held you, and he kept one of his arms around you but lifted his other hand to stroke your cheek softly.

“Love…don’t be mad…” He told you, looking so adorable…your smile grew wider, you weren’t mad, but you wouldn’t have lasted mad anyway if you were, not when Murphy was all sweet and cute like that.

“I’m not,” you assured him. “It’s not that.”

Murphy smiled at that, and you were sure you’d never get used to how beautiful he looked like that. He stroked your cheek again and then leaned in to kiss your lips. It started sweet and soft, but soon he was deepening the kiss, trying to back you against the kitchen counter.

“Murphy, stop.” You broke the kiss, pushing him away with your hands on his chest. “Seriously, not with your brother here…” You chided him again, and he pouted but nodded.

You glanced at Connor…he was getting up from the bed, heading to the toilet without paying you or his brother any mind, as if he really didn’t care that you were right there while he used the toilet, or that his brother was trying to make out with you on the kitchen counter…this two were incorrigible.

You looked at Murphy again, placing your hands on his waist but still keeping him at distance so he wouldn’t get any ideas.

“So…I was thinking…do you think you could manage to stay away from your brother just enough to walk me to my place later today?” You half-joked. “Just you and me?”

Murphy glanced towards his brother, and for a second, you wondered if he may say no, but then he looked at you and nodded, a smile lighting his face in that beautiful way that took your breath, and you couldn’t help but kiss his lips again.

***

N/A

If you liked this, comments and reblogs mean the world.

As always, excuse my English, it’s not my first language.

This post is queued, I’ll add the taglist as soon as I’m actually online.

#murphy macmanus #murphy macmanus x reader #murphy macmanus/reader #murphy macmanus fanfiction #murphy macmanus fanfic #murphy macmanus fic #murphy macmanus imagine #murphy macmanus & reader

[theteasetwrites]

Thy Saints Surrounded

Chapter 7: Mo Shíorghrá

❧ Pairing: Murphy MacManus x Female Reader ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: SMUT—fingering, loss of virginity, missionary, swearing ❧ Word Count: 5.8k

❧ In This Chapter: Another night at the bar, except tonight is the night you make things... official with Murphy.

❧ A/N: You really thought I was gonna not use this gif for the first smutty chapter of this series? That would have been criminal. Anyway, here's some smut. Idk what else to say. It's smut. Murphy is cute/hot. You know the drill. Chapter title is pronounced muh-heer-grah, by the way.

Friday nights at McGinty’s were busy, you had found after only a few weeks of waiting tables there. Not as busy as St. Patrick’s Day, Doc had assured you, but busy enough to have you on your feet at all hours of the night shift.

What’s more, you still were somewhat lost when it came to the subject of alcohol. New customers would come in and ask about some type of beer you’d never heard of before, and in your inexperience, you’d have to say something along the lines of: “Well, I know we have Guinness.”

At least most regulars did, indeed, order a pint of Guinness, and that made your job much easier. Murphy always ordered a pint of Guinness, so somehow that became your go-to suggestion. Murphy liked it, so it must’ve been good, you figured.

There weren’t many nights Murphy didn’t spend at the pub, as long as he knew you were working. In fact, the MacManus brothers were somewhat akin to your personal chauffeur, driving you to the pub and staying there until the end of your shift to take you home. You could’ve easily walked, but the boys (mostly Murphy) were insistent.

South Boston was getting to be a dangerous place since Shannon was murdered, and he was paranoid of something bad happening to you, too. That, and he got a kick out of watching you waitress, that cute frame of yours bumbling about the smoky pub and serving drinks you had no idea the taste of. 

And on rowdy Friday nights such as this, it was good to keep his eye on you, in case one of the drunken patrons got a little handsy or rude.

“He’s got it bad,” laughed Rocco, watching in amusement at Murphy’s infatuation. “You gotta pop that cherry, man. Christ, I think I saw you droolin’ for a second there.”

“Shut it,” he said. He didn’t take his eyes away from you, entranced but your beauty. 

You could feel his eyes on you, and it wasn’t threatening or disconcerting at all. Rather, it was comforting, knowing he was there for you, and incredibly intoxicating, knowing he was sitting across the bar undressing you with his eyes, probably imagining something sweet and dirty and deliciously “sinful.”

You’d meet his gaze periodically, flashing him “fuck me eyes,” as Shannon, God rest her soul, would’ve said. And, oh, how you wanted him. He didn’t know it, but he was teasing you these last few weeks, constantly ending your innocent, unassuming dates with progressively more and more passionate kisses that had steadily escalated to groping. 

One night, you swore you almost had an orgasm just from his hand rubbing outside your jeans. He, too, ended each night with a rather noticeable problem in his pants, causing him to clumsily adjust his crotch as he left your apartment to climb into the passenger seat of Connor’s car, where his twin was waiting for him.

“Fuck ‘er yet?” he asked that night.

“Fuck you,” Murphy replied. “And no. Woulda been in there a lot longer if I did, I’d hope.”

Connor had still believed wholeheartedly that all Murphy needed was to lose his virginity to you, to get over you after it happened so he could focus on their divine calling, whatever it was.

He hadn’t warmed up to you much since you’d begun dating his brother, and you were sure he hated you. In truth, Connor was conflicted. He wanted his brother to be happy, but he was also concerned that you weren’t good for him—a distraction keeping him from the greatness he was destined to achieve. 

Destiny, in fact, was incredibly important to Connor. Less so to Murphy, who thought in smaller pictures and simpler terms. Of course, he believed in fate. He believed you were meant for each other, that God had created two souls in perfect harmony with one another, and that was a bigger kind of destiny than whatever “greatness” Connor believed was in store.

“I’m out of here,” slurred Connor in his drunken state. Drink was the only thing keeping him able to withstand Murphy’s displays of affection for you. He lifted himself clumsily from the bar stool, nearly knocking it over.

“You can’t leave,” protested Murphy. “Need your car to get (Y/N) home.”

He fished the keys out of his pocket and slammed them on the bar before Murphy. “There. I’ll walk. Don’t want to spend another minute with ya like this.”

“Like what?” Murphy asked, raising his voice above the chatter of the crowded bar in offense.

“Like a fool,” he scoffed. “A damn love struck fool, that’s what you are, Murph. Grow up.”

The only thing keeping him from yelling back was you, now approaching the bar to prepare the next order. Connor seemed disappointed, not at your presence, but at Murphy’s refusal to retaliate, as he always had. He was changing, because of you. He was growing up, but not in the way Connor wanted.

“Hi guys,” you said with a smile, bending over behind the bar to retrieve the bottle of vodka you needed to prepare the last patron’s drinks. “Think it’s slowing down now, huh?”

Connor rubbed his face and nodded, and you could tell something more tense than usual was in the air between the three of you. There was the usual sexual tension between you and Murphy, the brotherly quarrel between Murphy and Connor, and the suspicion with a tinge of jealousy Connor had towards you. 

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m, uh… I’m leaving.”

You frowned and moved your gaze to Murphy. “You leaving too?”

He shook his head as he took a drag of his cigarette. “I’m leaving when you’re leaving, love. Connor’s just a bit tired. Can’t hold his booze anymore, ya know.”

Murphy flashed a nasty, devious smirk at Connor, who simply scoffed at the remark, but it was Murphy’s way of getting back at Connor for calling him a fool, so he supposed it was warranted. 

“See ya’s later,” said Connor, and a flurry of goodbyes resounded from the other regulars who knew him well. 

The night continued rather uneventfully, with only a few skirmishes Murphy was quick to break up, assuming the unofficial role of security guard (mostly in an attempt to impress you).

Rocco was the last to leave, and, as usual, Murphy all but forced Doc to leave his own pub, insisting that you and him would close the bar for the night. 

“You just wanted to get me alone, huh?” you laughed, feeling his hands resting upon your waist as he held you from behind. 

“Is that so bad?” he asked. He nudged his head against yours, taking in a deep whiff of your intoxicating scent before kissing your cheek, tonguing at your skin with impatient fervor. 

You sighed and tried to focus on the task at hand: wiping down the table that Murphy had you pinned against as he showered you with affection. 

“Murphy,” you giggled. “I’m still on the clock.”

“Yeah, but Doc doesn’t know what we’re doin’,” he whispered in your ear. “You got any idea how fuckin’ beautiful you are, lass? Seriously, it’s like you’re from another planet.”

You snorted and shook your head, turning it to face him. “So I’m an alien now, hm?”

He smirked and leaned in to kiss your lips, and soon, somehow, he had you sitting on that table, your legs wrapped tight around his to keep his body as close to you as possible. You felt the familiarity of his hardening in between your legs, and as he kissed you, you felt a surge of electricity pulse through you.

“Murphy…” you whispered, though his lips caught yours again, massaging them and suckling them demandingly. “Murph… Mm, Murphy.” 

He smiled against your lips at your repetition. “Love it when you say my name,” he said. “So fucking sexy…” He rubbed your thighs up and down, hiking up the skirt of your button-up dress with each pass of his warm, strong hands. 

He peeked just a little at your pure white panties, pristine and virginal, just like you—and him, too. His tongue jutted out to lick his lips, and wriggled back and forth along the edge of his slightly agape mouth. You watched in lustful amusement at the wettening of his lips, pink and glossy from the coating of his saliva. How you wanted those lips to go where they hadn’t gone before, where no lips had ever gone before.

“I love your knickers,” he whispered in your ear. “Like to get them real wet… Soak ‘em. Maybe keep ‘em for myself… Never wash ‘em. Remind me of you.”

“Oh,” you laughed over his shoulder. “You’re a dirty, dirty boy, Murphy… So dirty… I thought you were a good Catholic boy?”

“Only when I wanna be,” he mumbled against your hair, eyes closed and mouth agape in utter ecstasy as the skin of his cheek grazed your soft tresses. “You tempt me into sin, mo shíorghrá.”

You sighed and giggled rather girlishly at whatever he had said to you in what you were sure must’ve been Irish, given just how natural it sounded on his lips.

“What does that mean, Irishman?” you cooed sweetly. 

His hazy eyes met yours, and his face turned sheepish when he realized the meaning of what he said. “Means ‘my eternal love.’”

It was the first time you’d heard him say the infamous L word. At least, in reference to you. It took you by surprise, especially since you’d only been dating for about a month, give or take. You supposed you’d known him longer, but it still all felt so new, so unfamiliar, but exciting. 

You were sure that you loved him, that the fact that he constantly occupied your mind proved it, and that being with him was unlike any experience you ever had. It was carefree, simple, and beautiful in every way. You loved him, but it didn’t come to the forefront of your mind until now.

“Sorry,” he said, clearing his throat and loosening his body from your grip. “I, uh… I got carried away.”

Oh no, you thought. He didn’t mean it.

Even if he didn’t mean it, you had to hear it again, that sweet sound in his voice. Knowing what it meant now, you wanted to hear it even more. “Can you say it again?” you asked. “Please?”

He fell silent, but sunk his body back into yours until he was situated snugly between your legs, dangling from the high table.

He looked you dead in the eye now, and you swore you saw the corner of his lip curl in that mischievous smirk of his. “Mo shíorghrá,” he said. “You like that?”

“I love it,” you said. “I, um… I love you, Murphy.”

He’d dreamed you’d say those words to him, and before he met you, for so long all he wanted was someone to come along and say that to him the way you just did, with so much truth and purity. Maybe he was a hopeless romantic, but he always knew he’d give himself to someone he loved, that she would have his heart, body, and soul completely. Someone who loved him back, now that was even better.

“You mean that?” he asked, the tickle of his fingers grazing your neck as he swept back your hair. His eyes almost seemed to water, becoming glassy with moisture. 

Is he crying? you wondered. God, he’s precious.

“Mhm,” you hummed with a laugh. “I love you… Is this too soon?”

“No,” he replied immediately. “No, not at all. Actually, I… Well, I think I’ve loved you a long time. Since I first saw you. Was like Cupid slung an arrow into my ass.”

“Really?” you asked. Rosy cheeks bulged on your face as you beamed at the revelation. “Why did you wait so long to talk to me, Murphy?”

He shrugged as he asked himself that question, too. “Never been great with girls,” he said. “They like Connor, usually. Not me. Was worried I’d just make a fool of myself… Connor thinks I’m a fool anyway.”

His head lowered, and you reached up to hold his chin to bring his eyes back up to yours. “Why?”

“Because I love you… Am I a fool, lass?”

You shook your head. “If you’re a fool,” you said, “then I’m a fool, too. We can be fools together.”

His smile faded slowly, like the sun sinking gradually beneath the horizon, giving way to darkness, or in this case, an intense look of desire that rivaled anything you’d seen from him before. It was impatient and hungry, but still loving and sweet. 

He licked his lips again, wandering his gaze over your body. Your button-up dress was low-cut enough to hint at the junction between your breasts, and the more he looked at you, the more he found himself wanting, needing, to free you from the confines of your cloth prison.

“Murphy,” you sighed. “What is it?”

“Say it again,” he said. “Tell me you love me.”

Your legs tightened around him as if on their own accord, and your arms brought him closer until you could feel his warm, heavy breath upon your skin. Somehow you’d worked up a sweat sitting in that stuffy bar, or maybe it was just from the heat of Murphy’s body so close to yours. 

“I love you,” you whispered into his ear just before kissing gently below his lobe.

“Again.”

His fingers were slowly climbing up and down your sides as the space between you became nonexistent, your cores aligned perfectly. Any sudden movements on your part and you might’ve made him lose all control, but the risk was invigorating. Murphy had no idea what he was doing, as usual when he touched you, all he knew was that he liked it, and that you liked it.

You liked it so much you threw your head back, and Murphy quickly seized the opportunity to latch his lips just below your jawline, sucking at your supple skin to make a mark that would surely be visible by morning.

“I love you, Murphy,” you sighed up to the ceiling, or maybe to the Heavens. “I love you… I love you… I love you.”

“I love you,” he repeated against your lips now. “Mo shíorghrá… Sono pazzo di te… J’ai besoin de vous…”

You giggled as he voraciously attacked your lips, speaking in whatever language he pleased between kisses, though never taking his lips far from yours.

“Murphy,” you mumbled. “I can’t understand you.”

His lips tore from yours in a fit of passion, and with shaky hands he held your heated cheeks, looking you dead in the eyes once more. They were blackened, narrowed more than usual. He had a severe need in him, more potent than ever before. You felt it, too, like a fire raging in your lower abdomen, electricity pulsing wildly in your core. Just looking at him reminded you of the small puddle of moisture in your panties, making you wonder if he really wanted them.

“Can I take your virginity?” he asked bluntly. Nuance was beyond him now, he could only speak in the simplest of terms. 

There wasn’t any question in your mind: you wanted him to be your first, your last, your always.

“Yes,” you said. “But, um… Here?”

He shrugged and broke out into a smirk, a dangerous smirk. Dangerously handsome, of course. You weren’t entirely sure you could survive the trip to your apartment, and you certainly weren’t going to lose your virginity at his apartment, just a few feet from his twin brother. 

“Why not?” he asked playfully. “Got the place to ourselves. Beds are overrated… Just need a rubber…” He patted his pockets, but he knew he didn’t have any condoms. “Shit!”

You perked up and jumped off the table, much to Murphy’s confusion. “Where ya goin’?” he asked.

“I have condoms,” you said excitedly, rummaging through your purse behind the bar. 

Murphy raised an eyebrow and smirked, walking closer to you with a mischievous swagger.

“You expectin’ something, lass?”

You held the orange wrapper awkwardly in your hand, as if unsure of what to do with it. In truth, you sort of were.

“No… I mean, I don’t know. I just thought, since we’re seeing each other…”

Before you knew it, he was pinning you against the bar, lifting your legs up to wrap around his waist. You reached your arms behind you to prop yourself up on the bar as his lips devoured you once more.

“Condom,” you laughed against his ear. “Put on that condom, Murph. Let’s be each other’s firsts.”

He swallowed hard as his nerves got to him. He was terrified of doing something wrong, but more than that, he was desperate to feel something so right.

He took the condom from your fingertips, stepping back and almost knocking over the liquor cabinet behind him. He held it almost as awkwardly as you did, and looked up to you for guidance. 

“So, uh… What do you want me to do?”

You laughed and shrugged bashfully. “Well, maybe you should take your shirt off, and then I’ll take off mine.”

Sweet Jesus, he thought. Every fantasy he ever had was about to come to life right in front of his very eyes. He knew then that God was real.

“Okay,” he said. He cleared his throat before setting the condom aside, then reached for the hem of his shirt to strip it from his body.

You’d seen him shirtless, but, God, was it beautiful now especially.

“Your turn,” he said.

It was then you remembered you were, in fact, in a dress. Shit.

“Um… okay.”

You started at the top, unbuttoning the first button on your dress before you could pull it over your head. Murphy’s hand appeared in your line of vision moments later, helping you unbutton the last few buttons that you needed. 

He must’ve been impatient as he reached down to pull your dress over your head with a sudden burst of confidence. He might’ve been nervous, but he was sure he’d go crazy if he went another moment without seeing your body in all its glory.

Now he stood before you between your legs, shirtless but still with his lower half clad in light wash jeans. Returning the favor, you undressed him this time, your hands coming dangerously close to his crotch as you unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. 

They fell with a thud, and now you were equal, barely clad in anything but your undergarments.

He moved to kiss you again, and tentatively moved his hands to feel your breasts underneath your bra, and never before had you felt so suffocated by that garment.

“Take it off,” you mumbled into his mouth. “Take off my bra.”

After fumbling with the clasp, he stripped your chest, and the supple flesh that greeted him was beautiful beyond his comprehension. Your nipples hardened with the immediate exposure to the air, and the way they bounced with your movement as you reached forward to touch his waist was mesmerizing, to say the least.

His mouth hung open slightly as his eyes glued to your nipples, in awe of their perfection. They looked just like they did in the magazines, only better because they were yours, and different. The same, but different. 

“Wow,” he said under his breath. “You’re so beautiful… They’re beautiful.”

“Thanks,” you said shyly, though you had a focus trained on his boxers, tight enough to see the outline of what must’ve been his genitalia. If you weren’t mistaken, his cock was hard, begging to be released. 

“Let’s take ‘em off at the same time, yeah?” he asked. 

You wriggled your panties off, as he stripped himself of his boxers, and the both of you froze in time for a few moments to take in each other’s nude forms. Murphy was a man, that was for sure. A man with a cock you couldn’t take your eyes away from.

He reached for the condom and tore it from the wrapper, and rather clumsily applied the object to his erect penis. 

“Does this look right?” he asked you, as if you knew the answer.

You smiled and tilted your head as you studied his cock. “Hm… I think so. Are you ready, baby?”

Your voice quivered as you spoke, despite how confident you tried to sound. Of course, you were confident that you wanted this, but nervous nevertheless.

He moved with a grunt and took a hold of you again, once more throwing your legs around his waist. He kissed every square inch of your face, and reached down to touch your pussy, that coveted artifact he’d dreamt of so many times.

“Ohhh!” you exclaimed into his mouth. Even just his fingers grazing your clit was powerful enough to send the beginnings of shockwaves through your body. 

He pulled his hand away momentarily, but you quickly guided it back. “Touch me,” you panted against his ear. “Just like that… My… My clit.” You guided his fingers to that little bundle of nerves you were no stranger to, and he watched intently to see the anatomy of your body, as if taking notes. 

He held you tight with his other arm, but it wasn’t enough to keep you from jolting at the pressure of his clumsy fingers. 

“Murphy,” you laughed. “Oh, that’s so good.”

You watched his fingers rubbing you, getting slowly more confident with each pass over your clit. Still, you couldn’t help but admire his cock, hard and sticking up on end, with the most precious bulbous tip throbbing and reddened.

“You want it?” he asked as he rubbed you. “Touch it… Please.”

With the hand that wasn’t touching you, he guided your fingers along the shaft until you were rubbing him, and both of you were on the verge of your orgasms, you especially.

“Oh, oh… K-keep going.”

Your hips thrust hard against his palm, and with another swirl of his fingers, you melted into a cascade of intense pulses, throwing you over the edge into utter bliss. It wasn’t that you hadn't felt an orgasm before, you’d felt it from your own fingers, but this was different, more pleasurable because it was his doing. His fingers were inexperienced and clumsy, but they were his.

“Murphy,” you moaned. “Murphy! Oh, yes, Murphy!”

“I love you,” he said. “Did that feel good?”

You laughed and brought him in for another sweet kiss, soaking his lips with your saliva. “So good,” you said.

Despite your iron grip on his broad shoulders, he backed away with his cock in his hands, eying your glistening pussy as it still pulsed ever so slightly from your orgasm. 

“Fuck,” he muttered. “That looks so good.”

You arched your back and nearly purred in arousal at the look on his face, all at once devious and blinded by lust. 

Your legs widened further on the bar, and you beckoned him forward with your finger. “Come on, big boy,” you teased. “Get in here.”

It took a great deal of willpower, that Murphy usually did not have, not to slam into you, going as deep as he could before breaking you in. For all his ignorance of sex and the opposite gender, he knew women needed to go slow their first time, and he loved you too much to ever hurt you, especially not during such a magical, intimate moment.

Your face was buried in the crook of his shoulder as his tip entered the shallow end of your entrance, and both of you became immensely aware of your tightness.

“Let me know if you need me to stop,” he whispered clearly in your ear. “I don’t wanna hurt you, love.”

You kissed his neck before trailing your lips over his jawline and onto his cheek. “Deeper,” you simply said.

He happily obliged, slowly inching further into you. He clung tightly to your back, trying with so much might not to come in a matter of seconds, but the feeling he’d never felt before—the warmth, the squeeze of your fleshy walls, the tightness consuming him, the gentle twitching of your canal as you made room for him—was so intense, so hard to ignore.

“Mmm,” he groaned. “(Y/N)… Feels so good.”

You winced in slight pain at the feeling of snapping as he ventured further, and a sensation almost akin to burning appeared. Still, knowing he was inside of you was such a wonderful idea, and that was enough to have you moaning his name right back.

“Murphy,” you groaned into his neck. “You’re in me, baby… Mmm, you’re in me.” You laughed deliriously, causing him to break out into an adorable fit of boyish giggles.

“I know,” he said, and planted a kiss upon your shoulder. “You’re so tight, love. Can I move inside ya?”

“Yes,” you said. “Just go slow at first, okay?”

He nodded and held you closer as he thrusted gently, feeling his cock bury deeper inside of your increasingly wet pussy.

“Ohhh….” he moaned. “Fuck…”

The snapping feeling in your pussy gradually became less intense with each pass, his cock effectively stretching you out to match his girth. Pain gave way to pleasure, and you rocked back against him, allowing his cock even deeper until he reached your hilt.

“So deep,” he groaned. 

“Faster,” you said. “Fuck me, Murphy.”

He swallowed hard before beginning to thrust harder, moving back and forth in your pussy as his hips flexed and jerked to get himself off inside you. 

You found yourself leaning back on the counter, laying yourself down to get a look at him as he rammed into you, faster and more desperate with each heavy thrust.

He watched your chest bouncing, then reached out to massage the tissue with each strong, steady hand.

“Christ,” he mumbled. “You got the body of an angel.”

You laughed as you wriggled under his hands. “Mmm, Murphy… I love your cock in me, baby.”

“I—I’m gonna come.”

His body jolted almost violently, thrusting wildly into you as his face strained and his eyes fluttered as if he was in daze, and perhaps he was. The best orgasm of his life pulsed through his cock, causing it to twitch inside of you rapidly as he unleashed a flow of opaque white liquid into the condom’s reservoir.

He let out several strained whimpers which melted into blissful moans of relief. His eyes opened hazily as he finished unloading, and he broke out into a delirious smile when his sight met yours.

“I love you,” he laughed. 

You reached up to grasp his cheeks, pulling him down to meet your prone body on the counter. His lips crashed onto yours as you held him tight to your chest. “I love you, too, sweet boy.”

He buried his head in the crook of your shoulder where he doused you in kisses and lovebites for minutes on end, and when he moved, you noticed the feeling of his softening cock still inside you. It felt heavenly, but you tickled his back to get his attention.

“You’re still in me, silly,” you laughed. “You can’t stay here all night.”

“Mm,” he hummed. “Why can’t I? I like it in here. Might just move in permanently. How much is the rent?”

“Free for you,” you said. “But you can pay in kisses if you’re so inclined.”

“Kisses, eh?” He firmly pressed his lips to your cheeks, and dotted sweet little pecks all over the rest of your face as you squirmed beneath him. You broke out into raucous giggles, intertwined with half-hearted shouts of his name every time his stubble grazed your soft skin. 

“You like my kisses, mo shíorghrá?” 

You rolled your eyes, as you knew he knew the answer to that question, but his cockiness had once again risen to the surface. You couldn’t say you didn’t love it, though.

“I love them, Murphy. Everything you do makes me indescribably happy… I’ve never felt this good in my whole life.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” he said. “Think God made us for each other.”

You tilted your head and raised an eyebrow at that. “Oh, yeah? He did, did he? Well, who am I to argue with the almighty creator of the universe?”

You weren’t entirely sure how you both managed to fall asleep on the bar, you two practically on top of each other as you held on for dear life to the other’s sweaty, naked body. 

It was only when the morning came, sunlight rather rudely awakening you as it shone through the tinted windows of the pub, that you realized how terribly unsanitary it was to have sex on a bar. 

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath, causing Murphy to stir and rub his eyes as he awoke. 

“Maidin mhaith, cailín álainn,” he yawned, stretching his arms dramatically over his head. He folded his hands behind his head as he watched your naked figure fumble about for your clothes. “I think you should keep your clothes off, love. Quite like you like this.”

You smiled at him as you pulled your panties up your legs. He bit his lip, eyes hazily wandering about the five or so hickies he’d left on your chest and neck. He was immensely proud of himself, and you were sure you could get used to this cocky side of him.

“I think we’ve spent enough time naked in here,” you said. “We’ve got to clean this bar. I think Doc keeps the sanitizing spray down here.” You bent down to search under the bar, while Murphy busied himself with gathering his own clothes. 

“He’ll never know, lass,” he assured you. He seemed to pick up on your stress as you sprayed frantically and wiped down the counter with great pressure and speed. “Our little secret, hm?”

You felt his lips on your neck again, his tongue jutting out to lick the sensitive hickies on your skin. “Look what I did to ya,” he said. “Hope it didn’t hurt.”

“It doesn’t hurt,” you sighed. “I like it… Reminds me of what we did last night… Did you like it?”

“Fuck yeah,” he said. “Like to do it again… Real, real soon…”

His hands trailed up your abdomen to grasp at your breasts, still bare and hardened from exposure to the early morning air permeating in the stuffy bar. 

“Not here,” you laughed. “Already broke so many health codes. My place next time.”

“When’s next time?”

You turned around in his arms and pecked his lips in amusement at his impatience. “Tonight?” you asked. “I don’t think I could go much longer than that… I already miss feeling you inside me.”

He raised an eyebrow as his gaze moved down to your panties, slightly stained from how much you’d soaked them last night.

“Can I keep these?” he asked.

Your eyes widened. “What? You were serious about that?”

“Mhm,” he hummed with a smirk. “Little souvenir… If that’s okay?”

“Well, I’m going to have to leave here without any underwear under my dress…”

“Oh well.”

Murphy dropped you off that morning, walking you home in the dim early morning light through the still quiet streets of South Boston. Despite how tired he was, he walked with a spring in his step towards his apartment, eager to brag to Connor about his accomplishment.

“Rise and shine, you eejit!” he shouted joyously as the elevator doors opened to reveal the fifth floor loft. He stepped through the threshold of the apartment, removing his black peacoat and hanging his coveted rosary on the hook by the door all the while. “You’re not gonna believe the night I’ve had, Connor. Me and (Y/N)... Man, it was amazing. I mean, it was a little awkward ‘cause we both didn’t know what we were doin’, but she was a goddess. And we’re gonna do it again to—”

He finally turned himself around to face Connor’s bed, where the older twin was holding a large ice pack on his forehead. He had been beaten senseless, cut and bruised and covered in dirt, perhaps even a footprint or two.

“Jesus Christ,” muttered Murphy, eyes wide and lips agape in concern. “Fuck, what happened to you?”

He huffed and tried to sit up straight. “Also had a hell of a night… Though I think you had more fun than me.”

Concern melted quickly into hot, molten rage at the sight of his brother in this state, beaten and hardly able to move without wincing in pain. “Who the fuck did this?”

“Murph—”

“Nah, who the fuck did this, Connor?!”

He shook his head before giving into Murphy’s demand. “Tony and his little mafia friends… Mighta been able to take ‘em if I wasn’t outnumbered. He had five guys, including that big fella. The bodyguard.”

“I’m gonna kill that bastard.” Murphy paced in circles around the one-room apartment, running his fingers through his hair and nearly panting in rage. “We gotta do somethin’, Con. This kinda shit is what got…” He trailed off as memories flooded back, memories of a time he’d rather forget. “You know…”

“I know,” he said. “Trust me, I know.”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Murphy huffed. “This is my fault. Shoulda been with you.”

Connor shook his head. “Nah, nah. I was being an asshole, and you shoulda been with (Y/N). She loves you.”

Murphy lowered his head, almost bashfully. “I know she does,” he said. “And if Tony’s out here doing shit like this to you, what if he comes after her next? Shit, I wouldn’t be at all shocked if he was the one who killed Shannon.”

Connor perked up, intrigued by the mystery. “You think so?”

Murphy pieced together the puzzle in his head, then cursed himself for being so blind. “Of course! He didn’t do it himself, he had some mafioso do it. Sent him to the coffee shop when he knew (Y/N) was working, but she wasn’t there. She was with me still, back at the station. Christ, he wanted to kill (Y/N) but he got Shannon instead!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” said Connor. “Slow your roll, all right? No need to start spewing conspiracy theories.”

“This is not a theory, it’s real,” he insisted. “And I’m getting to the bottom of it. Right now.”

Murphy put on his coat about as quickly as he’d taken it off, along with his rosary and a swiftness in his step.

“Goddamnit, Murphy.”

Connor reluctantly lifted himself from the bed, with great strain on his injured body, and slipped on a shirt before catching up to him, determined to make sure he didn’t get himself in more trouble than he was already surely in.

~

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments of any kind are always appreciated!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter ➳

~

✏ Taglist

@browneyes528 | @dogwillhunt666 | @galaxypox | @holysmokesblog | @lacilou | @ohlawdthebirds | @punem699 | @roxaneisbored | @ruinedbythehobbit | @srhxpci | @sweetsunflowerkisses | @trash-dino-5000

#murphy macmanus x you #murphy macmanus fanfiction #murphy macmanus fanfic #murphy macmanus x reader #murphy macmanus #the boondock saints fanfiction #the boondock saints fanfic #the boondock saints #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus fanfic #norman reedus x reader #norman reedus

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Here you will find the full list of my works for Daryl Dixon and other characters portrayed by Norman Reedus. [Main masterlist]

Requests are OPEN

⬇️ Masterlist under the cut! ⬇️ [My Ao3]

★ indicates smut, 18+ content.

Series

Paintings & Picture frames [Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.7]

No apocalypse AU. Daryl and reader are studying at the same college and are assigned orientation project parters. [ONGOING, HIATUS]

Wings [Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6]

Judith plays matchmaker by stealing your jacket and making it match Daryl’s

Oneshots

Records of forgotten times

Digging through old music brings back sad memories, but also happy talks of the future.

Sinful★

Father Daryl enjoys some private moments with the not-really nun.

Ruppel

You're chilling on the couch watching your favorite show. Daryl joins you because he wants to learn about your interests.

Shielded (Fantasy AU)

Everyone openly shows and uses their powers, except for Daryl. Until you get hurt.

Bad ideas★

During a laundry round while home alone you find some ..'used' items of Daryl's to fuck yourself with and now have to work through the concequences.

Girlfriend

Daryl is in a sucky relationship but doesn't see it at first. Reader helps him see and later shows him how a good partnership works.

Hunters Ink

One tattoo leads to many more when you fall head over heels with the artist.

Creep (modern AU)

Finding an apartment in this new town was easy, but now you needed a job.

Daisy chains

Daryl gets separated after the prison attack. He comes across a home for him and his kid to hole up in. Your home.

Beef

Requested : "Could you do a Daryl x reader where at first he doesn’t like her, and she tries to get to know why hes so mean to her? Maybe he yells at her and then some comfort after?"

Rough times

Requested: Hi! Would you be willing to maybe do a one shot with Daryl x reader in a pre established relationship but the reader is pregnant with a child that doesn't belong to him and she isn't proud of? (non-con if you're comfortable with that) Some angst about the reader being worried he won't love her once he finds out 👀

The fun has just begun

Two men snatch you away for some fun. Before they even get anywhere you and Daryl have turned the tables and have some fun of your own. CW: Torture

Drabbles

Period cramp relief

Photographer Daryl

Different kinds of sex w/ Daryl

You needed Daryl for something

"Hey buddy, what are you doing here?"

"Carol gave me some cookies to share!"

Rick and Daryl go out on a run

Old man Daryl

Showing Daryl how beautiful he is★

Worshipping Daryl's worn body

🐺Were!Daryl 🦊Were!Reader

🐺Series🐺

Shared interests [Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4]★

Grimes!reader. Your father shares information about the man he considers his brother in support of your interests. Those interests take a different turn than he expected..

🐺Multichapters🐺

🐺Monsters among us [Pt.1] [Pt.2]

Your water breaks in the middle of nowhere but you find the prison in time for them to help you. There you meet the man of your nightmares. CW: childbirth

🐺🦊Feral for you [Pt.1] [Pt.2★]

Request. Daryl develops a crush on a soft and sweet lady, afraid to ask you out and ruin your sweetness, only to learn later on your have a feral side as well,

🐺Oneshots🐺

🐺 His girls (xOFCs)

Alexandria's new residents find a dog. And his very handsome owner.

🐺Full moon meetings

You get stuck in the woods, surrounded by walkers and are saved by ..something.

🐺Night shifts

During a night shift with Rick he sends you to investigate movement in the woods, knowing it would end with two of his group members coming home together.

🐺Dog person★

You’re Dog’s new favorite human and Daryl gets jealous. Lucky for him you’re also good with his dog-side.

🐺Creature Feature★

After overhearing your spilled dirty little secret of old world fantasies, Daryl suddenly feels like he does have a chance to get you into bed with him.

🐺Unexpected

This can be read as a continuation of Dog Person. Reader is pregnant with Daryl’s pups and has to hide it from the community until they can leave for Daryl’s cabin. CW: childbirth

🐺Roses for the ones left behind

Daryl gets taken and leaves a pregnant reader, not knowing her child and partner aren’t human. CW: childbirth

🐺New comforts★ alt. ending★

No one needed to know that sex between the two of you was for human Daryl only. Alt.: Rick now knows.

🐺Witch hunt

Thanks to an emotional slip-up you almost risk your home in Alexandria.

🐺Arrows & Rags

You help a wounded creature who leads you back to its den, where you find the one person you thought you had lost in the walker attack.

🐺Why didn't you tell me?

You follow Daryl into the woods on the one night he asked you to stay away.

🐺🦊The softer the skin, the sharper the teeth

Request. WereDaryl and Glen find a she wolf (in human form) out and talk to her about coming to the prison. She and Daryl are mates

🐺 Shame

Your most private moments are shared with the intent to drive you away. And it amost worked.

🐺 Not a monster

Request. Beauty and the Beast inspired fic. Set during Alexandria times.

🐺 Domesticated

Request. Cuddling in bed, like mundane little moments in their relationship

🐺 Bath time

Daryl's distaste for showers rubbed off on his children.

🐺 Forbidden

Strickt parents and werewolves don't mix, so you run.

🐺🦊 Found

Daryl finds a young girl and takes her home. He adopts her and learns she's a wolf too.

🐺 Savior

🐺Drabbles🐺

You show a little too much interest in Negan's new prisoner so he uses you as a test subject. CW: Non-con, forced impreg

🐺King of the cage

In the apocalypse, entertainment is hard to come by. Until you hear of underground groups fighting with anything nonhuman.. CW: Descriptive violence and murder.

🦊 Daryl was out on a hunt > Daryl liked being around her > Daryl has never been so proud

🐺 Daryl hated full moon these days.

🐺 You, Carol and Daryl go out on a run.

🐺 "Man, 's colder than a witch's tit."

🐺 You and Daryl had a great life.

🐺 Daryl came home early today.

🐺 Daryl saves you

🐺 You were all sitting around the bonfire

🐺 Daryl came home from a run. (xOFCs)

The adventures of Daryl the werewolf and his witch girlfriend.

Inked Sigils. ★

Fate brought you together. Spells finally brought you family

Bored ★

You tagged along with your boyfriend who ‘just needed a minute’, but you were so bored..

Momma's boy ★

You find your boyfriend all alone and desperate in your apartment, so you help him out. Again.

Warm & fuzzy

You just love him. It doesn’t matter what the others think

Much fun indeed ★

A summary of what being with the biker has thought you over time.

Coming soon??

Double Stuffed ★ Daryl/Scud/reader

It's your birthday so you get to have twice the fun!

#sometimes i write #writing #masterlist #the walking dead #twd #fanfic #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon imagine #twd daryl #twd: daryl dixon #twd au #werewolf #werewolves #monster x human #human x monster #scud fromeyer #scud blade 2 #scud x reader #scud imagine #scud fanfiction #scud smut #norman reedus #joshua fromeyer #murphy macmanus #murphy macmanus x reader #funny sonny

[minervadashwood]

Murphy Macmanus x PlusSize!Reader (she/her)

🍻 ~ Don't Look ~ 🕺‍💃‍

Summary: Doc hires you, Murphy's girlfriend, at Murphy's insistence. But it's not long before the MacManus twin regrets that decision. Warnings: Alcohol, sexual themes (no actual sex), fluff, possessive Murphy, Connor the enabler. Language warning: I tried my best to be accurate with the Irish accents. Hoping to god nothing I did is offensive. Word count: ~1,000

Prompt: "I don't like them all looking at you." "Remember, you're the only one who can look at me all night long."

Your boyfriend, Murphy, had gotten you a job at McGinty’s. It was more a favor for Doc than for you, honestly, as Doc was getting up there in age and wouldn’t admit he needed the help. So, Murph had begged the old man to hire you.

You started on a Monday, to learn the ropes before things got really busy on Friday night. Throughout the week, a handful of regulars were the only customers, which included the twins. Doc served the drinks, but you washed up, moved the stock around—or you tried to. Every time you went to carry a case of beer or liquor to the front, or roll in a keg, both Murph and Connor ended up doing the work for you. It had you wondering why Murph wanted you to work there in the first place.

You enjoyed getting to know Murph and Connor’s drinking buddies, and you spent most nights laughing along with their antics. Around ten or so, when Murph was on his third or fifth pint, you became less a barmaid and more a girlfriend. It was around that time when Murph would pull you from behind the bar and twirl you around once or twice. This always prompted the others to break out into some traditional Irish song, and you followed Murphy’s lead as he spun you about the near-empty bar, spinning you and dipping you. His slight frame hid his strength. The first time he tried to dip you, you were afraid he couldn’t hold you up, but he did.

Around eleven, Doc would put a cassette in his little old radio, and lilting ballads filled the air. Connor would pull you from Murphy for a slow dance, ever the perfect gentleman. It wasn’t long before you were in Murphy’s arms again, letting him hold you close as you both swayed to the music. Last call came a half hour later, and you rushed to the back, eager to get most of the work finished before Doc tried to do it himself.

Then each night, you told Connor goodnight, and Murph walked you home. You weren’t yet brave enough to ask him to stay the night—and he’d never asked to come up—but each kiss goodbye left you wanting more from your Irish gentleman.

Friday night came around, and you got to work at eight. The usual guys were already there, including the twins, and your shift started out like it had the previous days. However, around ten, more and more men crowded into the small bar. It seemed every seedy neighborhood in Boston had a representative, from the Italians, to the Russians, to the unaffiliated working class.

Then it was clear how much help Doc needed. You found yourself flitting about the bar and tables, delivering drinks, loading the dishwasher in the back when you could, lugging fresh glasses to the front for Doc to fill, again and again.

*

You were so hard at work, you never noticed what Murphy could see. You were the only lass in the bar, like a sheep surrounded by a pack of wolves. Most of them didn’t know you were his girl, and they stared openly, taking in your soft, generous curves whenever your back was to them. Those curves belonged to Murphy, and it was high time they all knew that.

As you walked back to the bar, a tray full of empty glasses perched precariously on your hand, Murphy grabbed you around the waist. Connor had just enough time to catch the tray before you dropped it, and Murphy hauled you between his legs.

Your hands flew up to brace yourself on this chest. “What’s gotten into you, Murph?”

He slid his hands from around your waist and squeezed your ass. Then he whispered in your ear. “I don' like ‘em all lookin’ at ya’."

You pulled away and he didn’t like that, either. He held onto you a bit tighter.

“What’s gotten into you?” you asked.

Murphy put his mouth to your ear again. “They’re undressin’ ya wit’ their eyes. I don’ like it.” He put his mouth on your earlobe and sucked.

You gasped in his arms. “Murph, nobody’s looking at me.”

Just then, Connor put his chin on Murphy’s shoulder. “They are, lass. Seen it wit’ me own two eyes. Whole place looks like they wanna eat ya.”

You turned your head away from Murphy and Connor to look around the bar. Instantly all the men went from staring at you to staring at their drinks.

You scoffed. “You’re both crazy.”

Connor leaned back, shaking his head and letting out a resigned sigh. “Yer askin’ for it now, lass.”

Murphy pulled you even closer to him so that you were firmly nestled between his legs with your belly and chest pressing against him.

You smiled sweetly at him. “Even if they are looking, you’re the only one who gets to look at me all night long.”

Murph shook his head and nuzzled the side of your neck. “Not enough, love. I d'be showin’ ‘em who ya belong to.”

Quick as a flash, Murphy moved one hand to the base of your head and angled you for a kiss. He took his time, lips moving languidly, sensually over yours, his tongue going past your lips and tangling with your own.

A moan escaped you, and Murphy chuckled against your mouth. He squeezed your ass again with his free hand, then gave it a little smack. You jumped and giggled, letting yourself lean more fully into him. He kissed his way to your ear and suckled your earlobe once more. He felt your chest rising and falling against his own, and his heart—as well as another part of his body—swelled with pride.

He stopped his suckling and urged you a few inches away by placing his hands on your hips.

You whimpered and pouted at this newly created distance.

Murphy smirked at you, your darkened cheeks and parted lips proof of a job well done.

Connor’s head was on Murphy’s shoulder again. “That worked, didn’t it?” he laughed and reached around Murphy to pinch your cheek.

You narrowed your eyes at Murphy. “Was that all just for show?”

Murphy looked around the bar with a fierce grin. A number of the patrons raised their glasses to him in silent congratulations and acceptance.

He turned to you and shrugged. “Guess you’ll have to take me home wit’ ya to find out.”

Thank you for reading! Feel free to like, reply, and reblog! 💚🤍🧡

=============

Taglist: @green-eyedladywrites @haleypearce @phoenixblack89 @takeabreathdeath @livingdeadblondequeen @sweetpeapod @ravenwings73 @fuzzy-paintnda @missbeeentertainment @crazylilad @imatrisk

Let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the tag list! (Or if I have accidentally left you off the list 😬) ==============

#connor macmanus #murphy macmanus #boondock saints #boondock saints fanfic #murphy macmanus x reader #murphy macmus x plus size reader #plus size reader #plus size #fluff #norman reedus

[stellar-waves]

staring down the sun [art bonus]

…but they held their tongues like they had some incredible superpower in each other’s presence.

[ The MacManus Brothers // how could you realize? ]

. . .

Started this as a line drawing for something else I have planned, but it deserved the full color treatment I’m doing for all of the illustrations for my story.

(And knowing me, I might look at this tomorrow and hate it and need to change it, but for now I had to share.)

Could you imagine sitting across from them like this? I don’t think I’d be able to speak.

#fanfic #fanart #boondock saints #the boondock saints #connor macmanus #murphy macmanus #sean patrick flanery #norman reedus #illustrated moments #staring down the sun #staring down the sun art

[livingdeadblondequeen]

Boondock Saints Fic Rec

So I told @bringinsexybackk69 I was going to do this a few weekends ago but I finally did it. I know I have read more, I just need to dig them up. Most of these have smut.

Connor x Reader

Elevator

Murphy x Reader

Smoldering

An Irishman and a Spider

Risk It All

The Couch 

Reader x Both Twins (No Twincest, the reader is just a lucky bitch who has a MacManus harem)

All or Nothing

Love in an elevator

Everybody Knows They’re in Love

Boondock Saints OC Arc (Long fic)

Happy Birthday Love

@autocon23 whole set of series too of course!

@littlegodzilla @minervadashwood @green-eyedladywrites @phoenixblack89

#boondock saints #Fic rec list #murphy macmanus x reader #connor macmanus x reader #boondock saints fanfic

[somedaylazysomeday]

Na Buachaillí - Part One

Murphy MacManus x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

Murphy is a late-night patron in the diner where you work and the two of you (eventually) hit it off.

Rating: Explicit, lemon, etc. Minors, DNI!

Word Count: 6,800

Warnings: modern AU, references to tipsiness/drunkenness, bad flirting, language, references to money problems, oral sex (female receiving), protected piv sex.

Next | Masterlist

---

Your coworker Bianca nudged you with her elbow. “Look,” she urged.

You followed the gesture with your eyes, looking through the door of the dish room, past the near-empty dining room, and out through the window. A smile curved your lips at the sight of the fluffy white clumps falling impossibly slowly, illuminated by one of the streetlights in the neighborhood. This wasn’t a nice section of Boston by any means, but a blanket of snow hid the faded paint and cracked sidewalks. And there was something homey about being in a cozy diner as the snow fell outside, knowing it was only a few days until Christmas.

“It’s very pretty,” you agreed.

Bianca - who preferred to be called Bee - snorted. “Don’t you mean he’s very pretty?”

You blinked, only then realizing that Bee had been gesturing at the only party in the diner that night… well, morning. It was a little after one a.m. and the pair of customers were the only ones you had. They had arrived a while before, but you hadn’t taken the time to really look at them.

They were sitting in a booth on the far side of the bar, chatting easily with their elbows hanging over the exposed cooking surface beside them. (The building had clearly started life as a Waffle House, no matter how much the current owner tried to deny it.) The man on the left had wildly curly hair and a short beard, and was wearing a pair of sunglasses. The combination kept you from seeing much of his appearance. 

With that in mind, the man on the right had to be the one Bee was talking about. His dark hair was cut short and his eyes were light, dancing around the diner’s interior as he spoke expressively to his companion. There was a tiny mark above his lip, drawing your attention to his bright smile, made even brighter by the dark stubble surrounding it.

Bee made an expectant sound and you shrugged. “I’d think he was prettier if he wasn’t drunk.”

She scoffed. “Drunk? He looks tipsy at most.”

“Close enough.”

“You think there’s something wrong with everyone,” Bee complained. “C’mon, you need to have some fun every now and then or you’re gonna give yourself a heart attack! Go take his order.”

“You already took their order, Bee,” you reminded her. “They just wanted some coffee and to look at the menu.”

“So?” she asked. “Go see if they’ve decided on something.”

You gestured at the sink in front of you. You were elbow-deep in sudsy water as you worked on the mountain of dishes that accumulated from the late-night rush. It had ended hours before, but you and Bee had both been avoiding them. “I’m a little busy right now. Unless you’d rather I leave the dishes for you?”

She snorted, shaking her head. Thankfully, she left you in peace and went to check on the pair. You couldn’t hear much of their conversation over the sound of the dishes in the sink, but you heard Bee clearly when she returned to the door of the dish room. 

“We missed one,” she told you, nodding toward the cooking area. There was a plate sitting beside the cooktop. You vaguely remembered setting it down there during the rush. Bee gave you an apologetic look. “Do you mind if I step outside for a smoke?”

You wanted to ask her to grab the plate first, or accuse her of trying to get you to interact with the customers, but the desperation in her voice made you agree. She slipped out through the back door to the restaurant as you dried your hands. You retrieved the plate without incident, the two men locked in conversation, but you were stopped on your way back to the dish room. 

“Hey!” one of the men called. It could have been either of them - with your back turned, there was no way of knowing which had spoken. 

You huffed a quiet sigh before you turned around. This shift couldn’t end soon enough. Nevertheless, you walked over to the small booth they were sharing. When you got there, you smiled. “What do you need?”

The one with the longer hair snickered, covering his eyes like your question had been too funny to bear. Your smile veered toward a grimace, but you managed to keep it together long enough to fool the man Bee had been admiring. Apparently, he had been the one who called for you after all.

“Hey, darlin’,” he purred. If it wasn’t for the smell of alcohol hanging around him - even if, according to Bee, he was only tipsy - his voice would have been extremely pleasant with its rolling accent. It managed to be halfway pleasant anyway.

Your smile was so fake it felt almost painful on your face, but you kept it steady. “Yes?”

“Do ye- wait. Are ye Irish?”

That fake smile slipped. “Uh… no. No, I’m not Irish.”

“Do ye wanna be?” he asked, leaning toward you with an inviting grin.

Your smile was gone completely as you tried to work through what he was saying. “Are you trying to adopt me?”

Now, he was frowning, too. With a blearily befuddled look at his friend, he said, “No, I- I meant- What was it?”

His friend had slumped down against the wooden bench seat, shoulders shaking with silent laughter. You shook your head and turned away. “Why don’t I get you some water?”

When you want to retrieve a glass of water, you heard the unmistakable sound of someone being hit. “Th’ fuck didja tell me tae say that fer?”

“‘Do you have any Irish in you’,” the friend told him, laughing aloud. “Then when she says no, you ask her if she wants some.”

“If she- Fuck, Roc! I jus’ wanted tae flirt wit’ a pretty lass, not give her a fuckin’ riddle!”

‘Roc’ was laughing too hard to respond. The Irishman continued berating his friend. “Dis is why Doc kicked us outta the pub tonight.”

“He kicked us out because you kept pokin’ fun at him,” Roc corrected. “I can’t believe your brother missed you makin’ such an asshole outta yourself! Where is he, anyway?” 

“Had tae work late tonight,” the unnamed flirt replied. “Who th’fuck works late dis close tae Christmas?”

You were coming back with his water now, and the silence fell heavy and awkward. The red of your polo shirt felt so bright, you wouldn’t be surprised to find that it had started to glow under the cheap fluorescent lights. You set the water down with a sickly smile. 

Your admirer looked half-sick himself. “Lass, I didn’t-”

“It’s fine,” you brushed off. “Christmas is an expensive time of year, you know?”

Of course, that wasn’t why you were currently working four part-time and temporary jobs, but these two strangers didn’t need to know that.

You retreated to the dish room, finishing the stack and draining the water without any further interruptions. Just as you were starting to wonder where Bee was, she ducked back inside, accompanied by a wash of cold air.

Any snippy comment you may have made was cut short by the look of concern on her face. Her cell phone was pressed to her ear. “I’m so sorry, hon, I’m on the phone with Jalen.”

Jalen was Bee’s son. You didn’t remember exactly how old he was, but he wasn’t a teenager yet. For him to be awake so late at night was concerning.

“Is everything okay?” you asked.

Bee grimaced. “I guess we’ll see. I just need a few more minutes.”

“Take your time,” you urged her. “I’ll cover things in here.”

She offered a stressed smile and let the door close behind her.

You grabbed the pot of coffee from behind the counter and went over to the men once more, filling their mugs. The wannabe flirt took the opportunity to say, “Sorry if I offended ye earlier, lass. I didn’t mean anyt’ing by it.”

“It’s fine,” you agreed by rote. “No harm done.”

“My name’s Murphy,” he offered. “This is Rocco.”

You gave your name in return, though it was prominently displayed on the white plastic nametag pinned to your shirt. 

“Mind if we hang out a while longer?” Rocco asked. “Looks cold as shit out there and I wanna finish soberin’ up before I try to get through that.”

That made sense to you, though walking home drunk through this neighborhood was dangerous for reasons other than weather. “Yeah, stay as long as you need. Hang on, I’ll get you some more water.”

You kept their glasses and mugs filled, and the steady supply of water and strong coffee seemed to drive them toward full alertness. Rocco turned out to be funny and quick-witted, though his friend was no slouch in either area. Murphy’s main trait seemed to be a keen sense of awareness. His light eyes had continued to sharpen as the evening wore on, studying your every move and taking in every expression.

“What’s a smart chick like you doing, workin’ in a place like this?” Rocco asked at one point.

You shrugged. “Everyone needs to make ends meet somehow.”

“Better’n what ye do, Roc,” Murphy fired back. You lifted your eyebrows at him, silently asking exactly what it was that Rocco did, but neither of them answered. Instead, Murphy told you about his job at one of the nearby meat packing plants.

At some point, Bee had returned. Jalen had a nightmare and needed to be talked down. Bee had done that, but also sent her boyfriend over so Jalen wasn’t alone for the night. You had offered to cover for her, but Bee had refused, saying that she needed the money from this shift for Christmas presents. Rocco and Murphy had listened in shamelessly, Murphy commenting that he had suffered from nightmares as a child and Rocco offering to stay and cover her shift himself.

Murphy had laughed at that. “I’ve never seen ye so much as make a piece’a toast, Roc!”

His insult and Rocco’s responding outrage had made everyone laugh. Another bit of your earlier wariness of the pair was chipped away just by the way the tension melted from Bee’s shoulders.

By the time Rocco stretched and stood up, you felt like you were almost friends with the pair and were reluctant to see them go. It was quite a difference from how you had felt only an hour before. You ran Rocco’s faded debit card at the register and watched him scrawl a signature on the receipt before digging a few crumpled bills from his pocket. To your surprise, he separated them into two piles.

“Somethin’ for each of you, huh?” he asked, eyes bouncing back and forth between you and Bee. “Isn’t much, but, ya know… Happy holidays and all’a that shit.”

“Thank you, Rocco,” you murmured, looking down at the tip. It was hard to see exactly how much it was with the way the bills were balled up, but it was clearly generous. Since you were busy at the register, you pushed both stacks toward Bee, who gathered it up and stared.

She had obviously come to the same conclusion you had, but Bee expressed her thanks by rounding the bar and throwing her arms around Rocco. He looked embarrassed but pleased, patting her on the back and muttering about how it was nothing.

You took advantage of the clamor to lean in beside Murphy. He glanced up at you, eyes widening with surprise to see you so close. “Do you want me to get your bill together, too?”

Those blue eyes wandered across your face for a moment before he shook his head. “T’ink I might stick around a while, if it’s fine wit’ ye.”

“That’s fine,” you agreed with a shrug and a smile that felt a little too bright given the innocence of the conversation. You glanced away from Murphy, suddenly shy, and caught sight of Rocco and Bee grinning at you. Feeling more than a little foolish, you retreated back to the dish room, feeling eyes on you all the way there. 

Murphy was flirting with you, wasn’t he? It had been so long that you honestly struggled to tell. Your soon-to-be ex-husband hadn’t been much for flirting. Paul hadn’t been much for you, honestly. Though ever since you had told him you wanted a divorce, he had been acting like you two had been the perfect couple until you had ruined it. 

You sighed, rubbing between your brows. Talking with Murphy was fun and simple. Did you really need more justification than that? Maybe it could be reason enough for the night. 

“Okay, I’m leaving!” Rocco called. You came back out of the back room, wiping your hands on your apron like you had been doing anything more than staring introspectively at a stain on the wall. 

“Bye!” you replied. “It was nice to meet you.”

“Back at’cha,” he told you, pointing his finger like a gun. “Catch ya later, Murph.”

Murphy said something in a language you didn’t understand, but it still managed to sound crass. Your suspicion was confirmed when Rocco barked out a loud laugh as he left the diner. He crossed the parking lot and disappeared around the corner of a building in only moments. 

Bee stepped out of the back door to answer a call from her boyfriend. You and Murphy were left almost alone in the diner. You refilled his coffee and poured the rest down the sink before setting to work making a new pot. Murphy left his place in the booth and slid onto one of the ancient barstools across from you. 

“What made ye want t’ live in Boston?” he asked. 

You lifted a brow. “Do I not seem like the type?”

“Nah,” he rejected immediately. “Most of th’ people who live here were born here or ain’t got any other choice. This part of th’ city, anyway.”

It almost seemed like you should try to defend Boston. It wasn’t a bad city, really. You actually loved parts of it, but it certainly hadn’t been your first choice of place to live. “My husband got a job here. This part of the city is all we could afford at first. Then he got… uh, laid off, and we never left.”

Of course, Paul’s layoff had been due more to his alcoholism than the needs of the law firm, but that didn’t matter to the stranger… or to you. Not anymore. After years of trying to support you both on the salary of a high school science teacher, you had finally pushed for divorce. You would be free soon enough. 

Murphy had stiffened slightly at your mention of your husband. When he spoke, his voice was deceptively even, but you had seen the way his eyes had flown to your hands. “Ye’re married, then?”

“Technically speaking, yes,” you confirmed, though you didn’t make any effort to hide the lack of a ring on your finger. “But only until the divorce papers go through.”

“Ah, sorry tae hear dat,” Murphy said. To his credit, it did sound like he was making an effort to sound sorry.

“Don’t be. I’m not.”

Now it was Murphy’s turn to raise his eyebrows. “That so? I take it the partin’ was yer idea, den. He didn’t… He didn’t hit ye, did he?”

The growing anger in his voice was something of a surprise, but you were quick to shut it down. “No, he never touched me.” Rather than give any further explanation, you cleared your throat. “And what about you?”

“I’m not married,” Murphy told you immediately. 

“Good to know,” you replied, hiding a smile. “But I meant, why did you choose to live in Boston?”

“Oh,” he said, a slight redness rising in his cheeks. It was adorable, and you felt yourself warming to him even further. “It was th’ first place me an’ me brother came when we got tae the States. Never found a good reason tae leave.”

“It was just you and your brother?” you asked. When he nodded, you added, “How old were you when you came here?” 

“Seventeen,” Murphy said. “T’is why we work in the meat-packing plant. The manager was th’ only one who’d give two kids a chance tae earn some cash. Never saw a good reason tae leave there, either.”

“Loyalty is a big thing for you, isn’t it?”

Murphy blinked at you, looking surprised, but a slow smile spread over his handsome face. “Now, how’d ye guess dat, lass? Just from what I told ye? Ye’re a sharp one.”

“It’s too early in the morning for flattery,” you told him, trying to hide how his compliment had affected you. 

“It’s never too early in th’ mornin’ fer flattery,” he replied. “‘Sides, I don’t know that ye can call three ‘mornin’. More like late, late evenin’.”

“Three?” you repeated, glancing at your watch. It was about ten minutes until three, but that was closer than you would have guessed.

“What is it?” Murphy asked. “Do ye turn into a pumpkin at three?”

“Not quite.” You couldn’t help but smile at his teasing even as you flew to finish up the last of your work. “I’m done at three.”

“Are ye plannin’ to drive in dis mess?” He gestured through the windows. The snow was starting to pile up, the icy wind whipping it into drifts.

“I don’t have a car.” You glanced back outside. “It’ll just be a really cold walk.”

“So late?” Murphy asked, sounding even less happy. “Do ye need someone tae walk ye home? I’d be happy t’ do it.”

You paused, thinking it over. Something about the earnest expression on his face told you he wasn’t angling for a night in your bed. He really just wanted to see you home safely. Unreasonably warmed by that, you nodded. “That would be great, thanks.”

He beamed at you and you smiled back and gestured at the dish room. “I need to tell Bee I’m headed out.” 

You tapped lightly on the back door and peeked out to find Bee standing there with her phone clutched to her chest. She looked like she was near tears. “Bee? Is everything okay?”

“Yes, it really, really is,” she said. “I told Franklin about the tip Rocco left us. We can afford to get Jalen that game he wanted for Christmas now. I’m so happy!”

You pulled her into a hug as a few tears rolled down her cheeks. She pulled away after a minute, fishing in her pocket. “I forgot, here’s your half. You’ve spent half the night in the dish room and I didn’t want to leave it out there in case someone else came in and helped themselves.”

You shook your head, holding your hands up and away. “You keep it, Bee. I’m all set.”

She protested, naturally, but you stood firm. Your lawyer bills would still be around after the holidays, but Bee only had a few more days to get her shopping done. She eventually accepted, wiping at her face and unlocking her phone. “At least let me call you a ride home. It’s late and cold, and I hate to think of you walking back by yourself…”

“Actually,” you admitted slowly. “Murphy is going to walk me home.”

Bee paused. “Are you sure about that?”

“I think I can take one drunk Irishman, Bee,” you huffed playfully. 

Her grin was instant and dirty. “Yeah, but what if it turns into a fight?”

You rolled your eyes, but she wasn’t having it. “C’mon, I’m just teasing. I’m happy for you! I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at him tonight. You deserve some fun, hon.”

“I can’t figure it out,” you said, laughing. “Are you worried about me or encouraging me to sleep with the guy? I’m getting mixed signals here.”

“That depends on you,” Bee countered. “Do you get creep vibes or do you think he’s one-night-stand material?”

You pulled the door open a little wider to glance out at the dining room. Murphy was stirring his coffee over and over, staring down into it as the fingers of his free hand drummed nervously on the counter. He glanced out at the snow before looking back to catch your eye. He smiled at you and you returned it without hesitation.

“Definitely no creep vibes,” you told her. “I think I might go for it.”

“Good,” Bee said firmly. “You need to forget about Paul for a night. Who better to forget him with than a sexy Irishman?”

You laughed despite yourself as your phone’s alarm went off.  Stripping off your apron, you told her, “I’ll keep that in mind, Bee. Thanks.”

Bee patted you on the shoulder and you both went back into the warmth of the diner.

Murphy was standing at the register and Bee waved you off when you went to ring him up. You grabbed your coat instead, sliding it on as you glanced around the diner. “Do you need me to hang out for a while? It looks like the next shift isn’t here yet.”

“It’s fine, Josh is on his way,” she brushed off. Murphy went to get his own coat and Bee leaned in to whisper, “Do you have condoms?”

“I’m not having this conversation with you,” you shut down immediately, smiling to soften it as you walked out from behind the counter. 

“Don’t forget to text me with an update!” Bee called after you.

Murphy followed you out of the restaurant. After you had both caught your breath after being exposed to the sharpness of the cold air, Murphy asked, “What are ye supposed tae update her on?”

“How you are in bed,” you replied, glancing at him in askance to gauge his reaction. 

A slow smile spread across his handsome face, leaving him with an expression of mingled delight and heat. “Yeah? Is that th’ plan fer tonight?”

“That was a joke,” you hedged, half avoiding the question until you could build up your bravery. “She just wants to make sure you don’t end up murdering me.”

The look on his face turned to abject shock and horror in a moment. “I wouldnae- I’d never! ‘Course, why would ye believe me?A murderer would say that...” You grinned at him and he relaxed slightly, though you noticed he had subtly increased the distance between you. “Tell ye what: I’ll jus’ be walkin’ over here, hands in me pockets.”

“Your pockets?” you echoed with an exaggerated look of terror. “That’s not safe! I don’t know what you could have in your pockets.”

“Not in me pockets, den,” Murphy agreed instantly, pulling his hands free of the pockets of his thick black peacoat. You watched him wince with the cold and a surge of guilt overtook you. 

“I’m sorry, that was another joke,” you protested. “I trust you. Put your hands back in your pockets or they’ll freeze out here.”

“Weren’t raised tae make a lady feel unsafe,” Murphy shrugged off. He flipped his hand over so you could see the way his fingers were starting to get pale. “But if ye really want, ye could help me keep ‘em warm.”

Your smile was so wide it made your cheeks sting in the cold, but you took his hand. You walked down the street in the hush of a snowy Boston night, Murphy walking beside you as you led the way to your apartment building.

At one point, he fished in his pocket with his free hand, pulling it back out to hold up a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. “Do ye mind if I-?”

“I have a sensitivity to the smoke, sorry,” you told him, pulling an apologetic face. “But that’s my building up there. I can go ahead if you want to..?”

You trailed off, unsure of how to finish the offer. ‘Go ahead home’? ‘Catch up when you’re done’? 

It didn’t matter, though. Murphy shook his head, tucking the cigarettes back in his pocket. “Nah, tis okay. Probably shouldn’t. ‘Sides, th’ cold air has me lungs fucked near sideways.”

“Sideways?” you repeat faux-horrified. “Then maybe you should come inside. I don’t want anyone’s lungs to get fucked at all, but especially not sideways.”

A dirty little smile crossed Murphy’s face, but he asked, “Are ye sure?”

“As long as you’re not going to murder me or give me an STD, I’m sure.”

“No STDs, no murder,” Murphy promised, tipping his head toward the apartment building you had pointed out. “Lead on, then.”

Kissing someone in an elevator was a cliche you would have liked to avoid, but as soon as you were in a more familiar location, your confidence surged and you needed to know how Murphy tasted. 

The answer turned out to be ‘mainly like coffee’, though you did catch an edge of alcohol and a hint of smoke. You were able to ignore everything but the coffee, distracted as you were when Murphy swept his tongue between your lips and set about thoroughly exploring your mouth. 

When the elevator arrived at your floor, you didn’t hear the doors open the first time, not until they made an angry-sounding buzz. You reluctantly unfisted your hands from the thick warmth of Murphy’s coat and led him out into the hallway. 

The apartment building you had ended up in wasn’t particularly nice, but nice enough that you didn’t have to worry about getting stabbed, which was more than you could have said about the place you had shared with Paul. 

Still, after you had draped you and Murphy’s coats over the back of a chair, you didn’t need to do much more than point to give him a tour of the space. “Kitchen, pantry, bathroom, coat closet, bedroom.”

Murphy eyed each section politely, but you were keenly aware of the fact that his eyes sharpened at the mention of your bedroom. You were just as eager, shifting your weight from one foot to the other as you nodded toward the door in question. “Do you mind if we skip to the-?”

“Please,” Murphy asked, a rough edge to his voice. 

You led the way, but he certainly wasn’t far behind you. Looking back on it, you weren’t sure when you had gone from only considering sleeping with Murphy to being desperate to do exactly that, but you were certainly there. As soon as the door closed behind you, your hands flew to the closures of your clothing. Murphy was doing the same next to you. 

You pulled your shirt away and unfastened your pants, leaving the material to puddle at your feet. As you reached back to unhook your bra, a harsh groan drew your attention. You glanced over to find Murphy’s eyes traveling hungrily over your body. 

“Fuckin’ beautiful, lass,” he growled, paused with his shirt long gone and his pants unbuttoned.

“Same,” you informed him, letting yourself stare at his bare torso and the way his graceful, tattooed fingers looked poised on the sections of his pants. 

Murphy grinned at you, though there was something sharp about the expression. In a moment, he had shucked off his pants and turned his attention to ‘helping’ you. In reality, his hands running over your skin - and the sight of him fully unclothed - were a massive distraction and it took you several tries to unfasten your bra. 

He took charge of removing your underwear, drawing them down your legs so slowly that you were ready to scream by the time he was done. His fingertips trailed over every curve and dip of your muscles, then danced back up to your hips as he stared up at you from his place kneeling on the floor. 

“Lay down fer me, darlin’,” he urged, using his grip on you to slow your descent when your trembling knees would have given out. “Been waitin’ fer this all night.”

Instead, you perched on the edge of the bed, watching with fascination and a swell of nerves as he drew his hands back down the length of your thighs, ending at your knees. Gently, he pushed them apart and you fought him for a moment.

Having sex with him was one thing, but this felt… intimate, far more so than you had expected. Still, you were determined to see this through. After all, you had lived in the same city as Murphy for years and you had never met him before that night. If things ended badly here, it would be easy to avoid seeing him again.

You leaned back further, letting your knees part for him. Murphy murmured praises as he spread you wide, studying the place between your legs. The kiss in the elevator had left you distinctly interested, even if you weren’t quite to the point of wetness yet. 

Murphy leaned closer and closer, gently spreading your folds with his thumbs before darting his tongue from your entrance to the top of your slit. You jerked under him, legs instinctively trying to close around him as your hips canted to offer yourself more freely. Most embarrassing of all, the simple act had pulled a hearty groan from you.

He chuckled, still close enough that you felt the air from it on your heated core. “Sensitive, aren’t ye, lass?”

“It’s been…” You frowned, trying to remember the last time someone had done this for you. “At least a few years.”

“Years?” Murphy asked, sounding horrified. His face lifted far enough up that you could see him clearly. “Years?”

You nodded, fighting the urge to hide your face from him. “Paul - my almost ex - didn’t like it. He said it was too… wet.”

“Did he ask ye tae suck him off?” Murphy asked, sounding irritated.

“Yeah, but he said it was easier,” you explained. “You can just pull away at the end and avoid the worst of it.”

“Miserable fucker,” Murphy grumbled. “Well, some of us think it ain’t a chore. Matter o’ fact… I think ye taste pretty damn sweet. Lemme make ye feel good.”

You opened your mouth to respond - maybe to assure him he didn’t need to do that or to offer a simple ‘thank you’ - but the words were never formed. Instead, that breath left in a tortured whine as he teased your clit with the tip of his tongue before sinking as much as the muscle as possible into your heat. 

You were too absorbed in the sensations to focus much on your own reaction, but your spine arced up off the mattress as you tried to grind your pelvis against Murphy’s face. He chuckled again, his hands tightening around your hips to keep you pinned in place as he buried himself further within your folds. His tongue teased your entrance as his nose pressed against your clit. 

If someone asked, you wouldn’t have been able to pinpoint exactly when you’d buried your hands in his thick hair, trying desperately to urge him on as you squirmed against his mouth. Murphy pulled away, but only far enough to sink a finger into your heat while he explored the rest of you with a series of long, slow licks. He hadn’t been lying about enjoying this. In fact, he almost seemed to be… savoring you. 

It was overwhelming, the pleasure sweeping through you so intensely that every muscle was trembling and a litany of sounds and pleas were spilling from you. You were fairly certain your neighbors would know Murphy’s name by the end of things. 

When your orgasm came, it hit with the suddenness of an explosion, whipping through your body and mind simultaneously and leaving nothing but sheer desolation in its wake. You shook and spasmed and moaned under the continuous onslaught of Murphy’s mouth until you somehow gathered the strength to push his head away from the juncture of your thighs.

“Ye okay, there?” Murphy asked, grinning at you over the curve of your tummy. 

You were speechless, having noticed that Murphy licked his lips eagerly before wiping his mouth on his arm to remove everything that was out of his tongue’s reach.

“I think…” you trailed, surprised at how wrecked your voice sounded. You had been moaning, not screaming, but you couldn’t have proven that verbally. “I think I may have died for a minute at the end.”

“Aye, lass,” Murphy agreed with a self-satisfied look. “Ye did make it sound like I was killin’ ye.”

“The best possible death,” you assured him, struggling to sit up. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me for that.” His face was serious as he sat on the edge of the bed beside you. “Ye deserve tae have someone take care o’ ye as much as ye take care of them.”

You couldn’t hold his sincere gaze for long, but dropping your eyes away from his face let you catch a glimpse of him. He was hard, his length straining toward you. A slow smile spread before you could bite it back. “By that logic, I should take care of you now.”

The original intention had been to touch him, though your exact plan had been anywhere from wrapping your fingers around him to straddling him. However, the aftershocks of your orgasm left you less steady than you had expected, and Murphy didn’t miss the way you swayed slightly just from the effort of sitting up on the bed.

His responding smile was wicked. “Looks like yer legs are still a little shaky, lass. Why don’t’cha let me take care o’ ye?”

He pressed a kiss to your mouth, though you noticed he didn’t part his lips until your tongue urged him to do so. The taste of you was still strong in his mouth, but you found it wasn’t overwhelming. Honestly, you could taste the coffee he had been downing at the diner more than anything else. 

When the kiss broke, it was only so Murphy could rummage in the pocket of his discarded pants and pull out a small packet. He had the condom on in only moments before he returned to you again. 

“Ye may want tae move up th’ bed there, lass,” he warned with mischief glittering in his eyes. “If ye t’ink ye can make it that far…”

You pursed your lips to fight back a smile and flipped over to crawl up the bed, losing the battle against a grin when Murphy groaned. Of course, that may have been the effect of the little wiggle of your hips you had sent his way, but it was flattering nonetheless.

A hand on your ankle made you pause and glance back over your shoulder. Murphy’s eyes were dark with want. “That’s perfect. Turn over fer me, darlin’.”

You did exactly that, letting your legs open with ease this time. Your mattress was cheap and small, but when the weight of Murphy settling on top of you pressed you harder against its surface, it felt like absolute heaven. 

His hips rested between your thighs like it was the most natural thing in the world and your legs instinctively wrapped around him. That left his length brushing between the swollen lips of your sex, his head barely catching on your clit, and your legs tightened involuntary, drawing him against you. 

Murphy groaned, but it held more than a hint of a chuckle as well. “I know, lass, I know. But ye’ll have tae give me a bit o’ space so’s I can…”

He pulled away slightly, only just enough to draw his hips back and notch his head against your entrance. The feeling of him there - so close to where you ached - made your muscles clench again, and you weren’t sure whether it was him or you who prompted that first thrust into you.

Either way, he drove forward in a series of shallow pulses, edging himself deeper and deeper inside of you until he was fully seated in your core. You both took a moment at that point, foreheads pressed together as you breathed through the tension. 

The fact that you’d already come helped, but it had been so long since you experienced this… and Murphy was far from small. Your inner muscles throbbed, tightening and relaxing in waves so strong they almost mimicked your earlier orgasm. Your body seemed on the fence about whether it should try to push Murphy out or draw him deeper inside you, and you both balanced on that edge for a span of time that seemed to stretch infinitely.

Finally, the gripping of your core slowed, leaving you almost desperate for him to start moving. Your hands - one wrapped behind his back, one locked around his shoulder - tightened, desperation pressing your nails into his skin. “Murphy-”

“Ye’re so tight, lass,” he told you, voice tense. “Don’t want ter hurt ye.”

“Please, Murph,” you said, on the verge of begging. “I need you to move. Please.”

That final, half-shattered plea seemed to spur him into motion. His hips pulled backward, the motion so startling that your legs fell from their spot around his waist. Your feet braced against the mattress instead, which gave you the perfect leverage to press your hips upward as you met his thrust back into your core.

You both groaned at the feeling, but Murphy didn’t let it overwhelm him. Instead, he set an almost frantic rhythm. You bounced and jolted under him, struggling to breathe through the driving force of him inside of you. Every bit of air you did manage to breathe was let out on a moan of his name.

His lips were traveling over your face and down your neck as he continued to steal your ability to think. He kissed and licked and sucked his way to your chest, eventually wrapping his lips around one of your nipples. You arched your back for him, whimpering, “Murphy!”

You could feel him smiling around the sensitive point of your breast, and he slowed his hips until it felt like he was stroking through your very center, drawing pleasure from you with every thrust. It was lovely, though nothing that would push you into another orgasm without some help.

“Ye close, lass?” Murphy asked, breaking away from your skin to murmur the question. 

After a moment of consideration, you found that the answer was ‘maybe’. You told him, “I could be.”

“I won’t last much longer, meself,” he admitted. 

You nodded, letting your hips drop back to the mattress as you snaked a hand between yourself and Murphy. Your fingers found your clit and began to move the same way they did when you needed to bring yourself to orgasm. Even the familiar sensations made your head kick back, elevated to new heights by what Murphy added to the experience.

“I’m-” you started, attempting to warn him that you were ready at any moment, but his hips snapped against you as he buried himself deep inside your core. His face tightened, then slackened into a perfect portrait of someone drowning in open-mouthed pleasure.

A combination of the view and the feeling of him jerking inside and on top of you sent you over the edge, strengthening the practiced motions of your fingertips.

This orgasm was calm, almost hypnotic after the fervor of the last one. The pleasure was slow and rippling as it washed over you and left you feeling impossibly light and peaceful. The warm air of your room was a spring breeze and the sheets tangled beneath you were the swells on the surface of a lake.

As Murphy gave a little chuckle from his place collapsed on top of you, you couldn’t help but smile. Since when had sex made you so poetic? 

He withdrew from you carefully, though the dragging of him against your walls was eased by the wetness of two consecutive orgasms. Your channel clenched once, twice around nothing after he was gone, feeling empty after having grown accustomed to being stretched.

You shuddered and Murphy paused a moment before he wrapped an arm around you and drew you into his side. For a moment you stiffened. Besides the fact that you were both covered in sweat, this felt more intimate than you had expected for a one-night stand. Even after realizing that, though, you let him do it. 

The closeness was comforting, especially since he was warm and still managed to smell good after all of that. You cuddled closer against his side, resting your head on his shoulder while you both eased down from the high of being together. His eyes were closed, and you let yours drift shut as well. You had been tired from the day itself, let alone the extracurricular activities you had gotten up to. 

Besides, you would need some time to figure out how to tell Murphy that you had to work in a few hours.

---

Author's Note - Okay, disclaimers before anyone gets too upset with me. First, the only reason this is a modern AU is so I don't have to worry about looking up every little thing that may or may not have been around in the 1990s.

Second, I know Murphy's dialogue is written in dialect. If that bothers you, I'll go ahead and warn you that tomorrow's chapter is written the same way. As for how I got to the dialect I did, I binge-watched the first two seasons of Derry Girls and went from there.

Thanks for reading! The second chapter will be out tomorrow!

I don't offer a taglist for explicit fics, but you can find other works on my masterlist!

#fanfic february #fanfic february 2023 #fanficfebruary #the boondock saints #the boondock saints fanfiction #murphy macmanus #murphy macmanus x reader #murphy macmanus x you #reader insert #reader insert fic #lemon #not suitable for minors #minors dni

[fandomsaremykryponite]

May I ask you some questions about your writing process for your Boondock Saints, The Walking Dead crossover? I’m curious how you approached something that you knew was going to be a long huge story that would take forever to write. Did you plot everything out from the beginning to end? And do you schedule yourself to write a goal each day?

Hi @livingdeadblondequeen

Thanks for the ask! I really like this one.

Tbh, I don’t think I have a real writing process. When I first came up with my fic series, it was really just for fun bc I thought it would be interesting to imagine how things would be affected if the Saints were in TWD. Then, I decided to write my own series and it just exploded from there. It’s kinda the same thing with all my stories (that I’m still working on before I post). Adding my OC was basically me jumping in to the story as well bc why shouldn’t I have fun in all this? Lol.

As for the plot as a whole, it’s kind’ve a mix between plotting everything out and winging it. I did download a timeline app on my iPad specifically to track major stuff through the series as a whole. Specifically figuring out exactly how long each season lasted (timeline wise, not the show’s runtime). Like how long from the virus’s initial outbreak to when Rick was left behind in the hospital, where would all my characters go, who died when and where (and maybe how if the idea comes to me). Since as many of you have probably already read, there are several characters that I’ve kept alive who (at the point of my series) should already be dead. For a few of them, they’re still going to die, but I wanted to give them, I guess, better deaths?? It’s hard to explain as it’s been a while since I’ve actually looked at my story timeline.

Though, I’m gonna go back and make a bunch of new ones later one that follow the rest of the series that I haven’t gotten to yet. Hell, I still don’t entirely know how to finish off the last season. I know what I want, but I need to watch the last season to really see how it ended before I figure out how to work my way there. Though, that probably won’t be until much later. I’m still on season 4 of TWD, which isn’t new information since that’s where I’ve been since I first finished writing season 3 (part 6 which is currently being posted) like almost 2 years ago I wanna say??

If you’re interested in what stories I’m writing, I think I actually wrote it all out in a post long time ago. However, I have made additional stories that I’d like to post one day. Though, it won’t be until I’ve written up to certain points for each story. I like having a bunch already written out so that I have breathing room before I need to write more in case I let myself get caught up writing other stuff (like I am now lol).

As for your last question… I don’t really set a schedule. I just write when I wanna write whenever I can write (which was a lot of times now that I think about it). I don’t set a goal either. I don’t like adding unnecessary pressure that I don’t need. I write because I had a fun story idea that I wanted to make. I share my story online because I thought that there might be others who would enjoy it. And there had been bc I’ve been receiving nothing but love since I first started posting and have always appreciated the support and adored the comments that readers would leave in AO3.

Thanks again for the ask! I really enjoyed this one. If you have any other questions, please feel free to reach out! I love chatting with you all!

Thank you for reading my fic series this far. I hope you continue to enjoy reading my fic series as I have been writing them.

#thanks for the ask! #answered asks #boondock saints fanfic #boondock saints fanfiction #murphy macmanus x reader x connor macmanus #author ramblings #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfiction

[autocon23]

Just Keep Swimming (That’s How The Song Went, Right?) - Chapter 42 - AutoCon23 - The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms [Archive of Our Own]

New chapter!!

Enjoy!!

Taglist:

@phoenixblack89 @lilythemadqueen @archerangel @twdeadfanfic @littlegodzilla @fandom-cuties @livingdeadblondequeen

#daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #boondock saints fanfic #boondock saints fanfiction #connor macmanus #connor macmanus x reader #connor x ofc x murphy #daryl fanfiction #connor macmanus x daryl dixon #murphy macmanus x reader x connor macmanus #connor macmanus x oc x murphy macmanus x daryl dixon #murphy macmanus x daryl dixon #murphy macmanus x reader #murphy macmanus #normanreedus #norman #norman reedus #sean patrick flanery #the walking saints #the boondock saints fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead #the walking dead smut #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead fic #boondock saints #daryl dixon smut

[twdeadfanfic]

Without a goodbye

Murphy MacManus x female Reader fanfiction

From meeting Murphy one night at the pub, to him disappearing for eight years without a goodbye...to him coming back. (This was a request but I realized I didn’t really write it as requested...sorry.)

You still remember the day you met him as if years hadn’t passed.

You were with some friends in one of the Irish pubs of Boston, McGinty’s, chatting and having some drinks, when your eyes landed on a group of three men, but you instantly seemed to focus on just one of them, sitting on a stool near the bar.

Murphy MacManus.

He was probably one of the most attractive men you had ever seen, one of those you think wouldn't exist in the real world. Pretty blue eyes, bright with mischief as he seemed to joke and banter with the other men, a charming, cocky smirk tugging at his lips. Nice, sharp cheekbones, and short, dark hair spiking here and there almost as if he’d just rolled out of bed.

Damn…

There was another guy, who you’d later find was Connor, Murphy’s twin, sitting down on another stool next to Murphy, looking incredibly handsome too, and you couldn’t help but notice how they seemed to move somehow in sync. There was a third man standing in front of them, with wild long hair, Rocco, the brother’s best friend, whom you met later and never really liked, and both brothers seemed to be laughing at whatever he was saying, joking with him or maybe teasing him.

You tried not to stare at that handsome stranger, force yourself to look away, but your eyes stubbornly went back to look at Murphy not even half a second later, and you called yourself an idiot when you found yourself thinking that even his nose was cute…what a silly thought.

Suddenly, those blue eyes found yours. You tried to look away, embarrassed that he might think you were staring at him, even if you had, indeed, been staring at him, but you couldn’t avert your gaze, and for a moment, you both looked at each other.

You weren’t sure who looked away first.

All through the night, though, your eyes kept meeting, as you both seemed unable to stop looking at each other from time to time, but it wasn’t until a couple of hours later, or so, that you actually met him.

“Hey.”

You were at the counter ordering another drink when you heard a voice calling for you, and when you looked at your side, there was the handsome stranger to whom your eyes had wandered all through the night.

He was as attractive as he’d seemed from afar…no, probably more. You blinked at him, surprised that he was talking to you, and you felt a silly, unwelcome wave of nervousness in your stomach.

“Hey,” you forced yourself to greet him too when you realized that you were just staring at him in silence and looking like a half-panicked horse…you hadn’t dreamed that this guy would approach you…

“I’m Murphy,” he introduced himself with a smile so pretty that it made him look even more handsome, and your stomach did something weird again.

It wasn’t the cocky, mischievous smirk that you had spied on him sometimes before, when he seemed to be joking with his friends, though. This was another kind of smile, and you wondered if he too looked a bit nervous and shy, or if you were imagining it.

“I’m Y/N,” you introduced yourself, trying to smile…you wanted to look nice and friendly, but those damn things twirling in your stomach weren’t making it easy.

“Nice to meet ye…I hadn’t seen ye here before,” Murphy told you.

“No, it’s the first time I come, actually…my friend Aine, his brother comes here often and he told her this was a nice place, so we decided to come this night,” you explained shyly, nodding first towards your friend, then to her brother and his group of friends.

“He’s right, this is the best pub in Boston, love,” Murphy said, his pretty smile growing, brightening his face, making him look even more handsome, which combined with him calling you love…yes, the silly butterflies were twirling like crazy in your stomach, even if you tried to stop it and get yourself together.

“You, uh…” You cleared your throat. “So you come here often, then?”

“Almost every night, aye.” Murphy nodded. “Me and my brother Connor live in the building in front of this, we got lucky!” He said as he nodded towards the guy who had been sitting down on the stool next to him.

So that was his brother…you remembered thinking that they moved oddly in sync, and they even dressed in a similar style too.

“I guess that’s convenient,” you chuckled shyly.

“It is!” Murphy nodded. “So, uh…” His eyes darted towards where his brother was sitting down, looking at you both, and then back to you, and you wondered again if Murphy looked shy too or you were just imagining it. “Ye like the pub? I mean…aye, ye gotta like it, it’s the best.”

“Yes, I do like it, it’s really nice.” You nodded, you didn’t think it was the best, but you wanted to be nice.

“Aye, so…ye think ye’ll be back, then?” He asked you and you nodded even if you hadn’t talked about it with your friends yet…but if Murphy went there every day then, yes, you might be going more often than you had thought. “Nice!” Murphy’s pretty smile grew again and how in the world was it so beautiful. “So then I guess I’ll see ye around.”

“Yes.” You sure hoped so. “If you come here every day.”

“Aye!”

You both looked at each other, and you wondered if there was any chance that Murphy was feeling as shy as you…you didn’t know what to do, you wanted to say something, you knew you had to, you wanted to keep talking with him, but you didn’t know what to say or what to do…it seemed as if Murphy was about to say something too, but then he didn’t.

Both your drinks were placed in front of you and when Murphy reached for his, you did the same with yours, still not knowing what to do or say.

“I guess, I should, uh…” You said vaguely, gesturing towards your friends.

“Aye…” Murphy nodded towards his brother too, who was still looking at you both.

“It was nice meeting you,” you said, hating how awkward it sounded. “I, uh…I guess I’ll see you around if you come every day.”

“Aye” Murphy nodded before he glanced towards his brother again and you thought he might walk back to him, but then he looked back at you. “We’ll come back tomorrow again.”

“Then maybe we’ll see each other tomorrow.” You smiled, or tried to…you looked forward to seeing this handsome and charming guy again, even if you weren’t doing the best job at talking to him, but it also made you kind of nervous.

Murphy nodded, giving you that pretty smile that made your belly do weird things, and you nodded at him before retreating back to your friends while Murphy walked back to his.

Your friend Aine raised her eyebrows at you, grinning. “What were you talking about with that hot guy?”

“Oh…nothing…” You felt your cheeks heating up. “He was just saying hi…”

“He walked right to you when he saw you, I think he’s interested in you,” Aine said, nudging you.

“Really?” You couldn’t help the twirls in your belly at it. “He said he and his brother come here every day.”

“See, he wants to see you again.” Aine grinned at you. “We’re coming back tomorrow.”

“Okay…” You chuckled, you were nervous about it but also excited…when you glanced towards Murphy, though, your smile died on your lips and your stomach dropped. “Forget it,” you scoffed.

“What, why?” Aine asked, looking towards Murphy too.

“He was just trying to make fun of me or something,” you said, defensive…you shouldn’t have trusted someone that handsome. “Look at him, they’re laughing at me…he was just messing…”

Aine let out a sigh, rolling her eyes. “Why do you always jump to that conclusion?” She asked and you shrugged, defensive. “I’m pretty sure it’s not true…in fact, I think those other two guys are actually laughing at your cute one, not at you…look.”

You did look, not sparing a thought at how little subtle you and Aine were in your staring, but the guys seemed too busy to notice…maybe Aine was right? Connor and Rocco were laughing and saying something to Murphy, who seemed pissed, before he seemed to snap at them, shoving his brother almost off the stool, but by the looks of it, it seemed to only make them laugh more while Murphy sat there, sulking.

“Maybe…” You murmured, unsure…you didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself, but you couldn’t help your hope that maybe Aine was right, and maybe Murphy was really interested.

“We’ll find out tomorrow,” Aine said, winking at you.

* On the next evening, you went with Aine to McGinty’s again. Murphy was there already, sat down in the same stool of the previous night with his brother next to him, although his friend Rocco was missing.

His eyes found you and a smile spread across his beautiful face while he gave you a nod, making butterflies bloom in your belly, and you gave him an awkward, shy wave.

“Come on, go speak with him,” Aine urged you but even though you wanted to, the idea made you nervous.

“And what do I tell him…”

“Anything…it doesn’t matter, just go and say hi.” Aine nudged you but you didn’t move, feeling insecure.

“Wait…let’s…let’s get our drinks first.”

Aine rolled her eyes and let out a sigh but nodded. “Okay.”

You tried to gather your courage to go to speak with Murphy, but by the time you finished your drink, which you drank a bit faster than usual as if it could help, you still hadn’t approached him. His friend Rocco was there too now, and it made you even more nervous about going to try to speak with Murphy.

Like the evening before, you were at the countering ordering another drink, when Murphy approached you.

“Hey, Y/N,” he greeted you with that pretty smile. “Ye came back.”

“Hi, Murphy.” Despite your nerves, his cute smile was contagious. “Yeah, I told you I would.”

“Aye…nice to see ye again, love,” Murphy said and the butterflies in your belly twirled out of control while you nodded, trying to say that it was nice to see him too. “I’ll get ye a drink, what are ye havin’?”

“Oh, you don’t have to…” You began, but he was already talking to the bartender as if he knew him, small wonder when he said he went there every day and even lived in front of the pub. Well, maybe then you could get him a drink later, it’d be a chance to hang out with him more.

Once you both had your drinks, you looked at each other but neither of you said anything, even though Murphy was looking at you intently with those pretty blue eyes, but your brain was still not allowing you to come up with anything. You were scared thinking that he might find you boring and turn around to go back to his friends, when you realized that one of them was actually approaching you both.

“Hey, I’m Rocco,” he introduced himself. “Y/N, right?” He asked and you nodded, guessing that Murphy had told him your name.

“The fuck are ye doin’ here!” Murphy snapped, clearly annoyed.

“Helping you because even from there-” he gestured towards where he had been and you noticed that Murphy’s brother was approaching too as if to help out. “I can see that you’re being as useless as yesterday and it’s making me sad.” He didn’t sound sad, though, but kind of mocking, and you didn’t feel good about it, making your insecurities grow.

“Shut up!” Murphy snapped again, giving Rocco a shove, but he ignored it, looking at you.

“Look, my friend here, he likes you and won’t shut up about you which is getting annoying, and he’s trying to get your number but he’s being clearly useless at it, so I’ll ask you for him,” Rocco said with that joking tone that you didn’t like and Murphy snapped at him to shut up again, pushing him, before his brother got in the middle, while you just stood there, awkward and confused.

“I told ye not to!” Connor said to Rocco before looking at Murphy. “But…aye, brother, it was lookin’ like ye needed help,” he said before Murphy shoved him against Rocco.

You didn’t know what to think, but you were feeling very uncomfortable and nervous, unsure of what was going on, and so you turned to leave, but Murphy noticed, despite being arguing with his friend and his brother.

“Hey, love, no, wait,” he said, reaching to hold your wrist and stop you, his warm touch sending a tingling through all your body. “I’m sorry that they’re idiots.”

Murphy was looking upset and you didn’t know what to think…and the feeling of his hand on your arm was a bit distracting. You glanced at his friends, Connor seemed contrite but Rocco was still smiling.

“I…just…I don’t want to be a joke…” You said quietly, you couldn’t help yourself, even if you felt stupid and embarrassed.

“What…why you say that, it’s nothing like that,” Murphy told you before looking at Connor and Rocco. “See what ye did, are ye happy?” He snapped.

“We’re sorry…” Connor said looking from his brother to you, but it just made you feel even more embarrassed… you were overreacting but you couldn’t help it… “Look, yer here with friends, aye?” Connor said and you nodded. “What if we all have a drink together?”

You weren’t sure, you still felt very awkward, but you looked at Murphy and…was he giving you puppy eyes? Damn, how could he look even cuter? His hand on your wrist slid down to hold your hand, his thumb stroking your knuckles…it was an oddly intimate touch considering that you both had barely shared a few words, and yet, it made you feel a bit more at ease, somehow.

“Okay…okay.” You finally nodded, making Murphy’s face light with a smile that had butterflies dancing in your belly. “I’ll go ask my friend…”

You went back to Aine, feeling Murphy’s eyes on you the whole time, and you tried to briefly explain to her what had happened and how confused you were, and she agreed to go have a drink with them in a second.

“And to think that a guy who looks like that is even worse at flirting than you…” She commented as she walked, and you shushed her, mortified. “It’s a bit of a pity that I do have a boyfriend…” She said as he eyed Connor as you both walked to them and you snorted.

“You don’t mean that…”

* When you had approached the guys with Aine, you had been wary, unsure of what to expect…but you had a great time.

Murphy had seemed shy and quiet when approaching you, but soon that was gone, and he actually talked so much, that you thought he might never stop…not that you minded, he was charming and funny, making butterflies twirl in your belly when he smiled at you, and you truly enjoyed hearing him and Connor tell stories about their childhood in Ireland and their new life in Boston.

The twins tended to talk over each other, to banter and try to make fun of each other, and it should have been ridiculous, but it was kind of endearing in a way. No matter the snapping and the jokes, though, or that you had just met them, you could see the deep connection between them.

By the end of the night, Murphy and you had not only exchanged numbers but would also go out on a date the next day, even if neither of you had actually called it a date.

And to that one, many others followed…

* Your relationship with Murphy wasn’t perfect.

He was sweet and easygoing, but he could also be a hothead quite often, snapping easily, but after an argument, once he’d cooled down, he usually apologized to you just as easily…sometimes he’d resort to the puppy eyes to have you forgiving him if he’d been an ass or to convince you to agree with him, and damn it but it worked.

Another problem was to get time alone with him, since both he and Connor seemed to be always together, a twin pack of two charming, fun Irish handsome guys, and sure, you were friends with Connor and enjoyed hanging out with him too, but you would have liked to have a bit more of time only with Murphy…there were some moments just for you and him, but it wasn’t often. And certainly, not in that apartment where the brothers lived, if you could even call that place with no doors or walls even for the bathroom an apartment.

All in all, there were more good moments than bad ones in your relationship with Murphy, he always managed to make you feel important and loved, with how sweet and charming he could be, and you never were bored with him around.

Little did you know how things were going to change...

*

Somehow, the events that started with trying to protect Doc and his pub from a group of mob bullies, ended up turning your cute and childish boyfriend and his brother into cold-blooded, reckless mafia killers, claiming that during a dream, God had given them a sacred mission to rid the world of everything that was evil starting with the mafia.

It was beyond insane…not to mention dangerous, even worse when you learned that Rocco, damn Rocco of all people, was helping them.

But no matter how many times you voiced your concern, how many times you begged, snapped, yelled, cried, they ignored you, angry and upset with you, until Murphy stopped contacting you, and there was no way you could get a hold of them by yourself.

Days were passing and you were going crazy with worry. You were brokenhearted too, but you were too scared to properly feel the heartbreak at how you seemed to have lost Murphy.

It was another day of worry, anxiety, and sadness, when you got a call from Aine telling you to turn on the news on tv, and as you did so, your heart seemed to leap to your throat.

Murphy and Connor, along with an older man, seemed to have taken over a courtroom in which one of those big mob bosses they wanted to hunt was being judged. They were aiming their guns around, saying something that you couldn’t make, and then they were shooting the man dead, before the news stopped broadcasting.

You gasped, your heart beating so fast you thought you were going to faint. They had killed that man there, in cold blood…and you might not argue that he, indeed, deserved it, but what was going to happen now? Sure the twins were about to get arrested and judged for all the murders…

You knew there was no way of contacting them and so instead you watched the news, hoping they would cover whatever was happening, hoping that Murphy would contact you somehow, yet knowing he wouldn’t…

Soon things turned out messy for you too, when the police found pretty quickly that you had been dating Murphy MacManus and you were relentlessly questioned, but you thought that it was almost worse when the press found out and tried talking to you, which you avoided as best as you could.

You still didn’t know where the hell were the brothers or what had happened to them. The police seemed to think they were on the run, hiding, and it made sense, but…what if the mafia had gotten to them? They could very well be dead…

Your fear just increased when you found out Rocco, who’d gone missing before the MacManus, had been tortured and killed by the mafia…that could very well had happened to the MacManus too…

Because otherwise, why was Murphy not contacting you? Maybe he couldn’t…maybe it was not safe…maybe he didn’t care, it wasn’t like you two had been talking much since he started hunting mafia, and every time you two spoke, it ended in arguments about it.

But still…a heads-up on what he was going to do would have been nice…and a call to tell you that he was okay…

So you were afraid, you were worried…but you were sad and bitter too, brokenhearted, you couldn’t help it.

It was a few days later, that you got a phone call.

“Hello?” You answered the phone, wary that it might be the police or the press.

“Hey…” That voice…his voice.

“Murphy…are you safe?!”

“Aye…aye, we’re fine.” Fine? Fine after everything that had happened? Fine when you were feeling broken? Your bitterness began to step over your worry.

“Fine?! What the hell is going on?!”

“We, uh…I bet ye saw the news, aye?” He answered…was he joking, when you felt like your heart was breaking with worry and sorrow?”

“Yes I saw you and your brother murdering a man on his knees,” you hissed.

“He got it comin’!” Murphy snapped. “Ye knew who he was, right? He deserved worse!”

“So you had to do it in front of all those people?! On live television?!”

“Aye, we didn’t get another chance, and it sent the message, that was important.”

“Important enough to show yours and your brother’s face as the killers wanted both from the police and the mafia.”

“Aye…we can’t show our face again, for a long while at least,” Murphy said…so, you were not seeing him anymore?

“Why you didn’t tell me anything?”

“There wasn’t time, we got lot’s to plan for, and ye know how Connor gets ‘bout plannin’...” Murphy huffed. “And we didn’t wanna involve ye, gettin’ ye in the eye of the mafia and the police.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Don’t you think it was a bit late for that? They found out already that I was involved with you, it was not that hard! Hell, it took a couple of days for the local tabloid to print a column about ‘the woman who loved the Saints’” You hadn’t yet shown your face anywhere after that.

“Oh, we saw it…Connor found it funny ‘cause they wrote as if ye were with the both of us or some shit,” Murphy said, sounding annoyed, as if it had the right.

“Point is…they know who I am anyway.”

“Aye…but ye don’t know where we are, ye know nothin’ of our plans-”

“Oh, so if I knew, you think I’d just rat you out?” You snapped, hurt.

“I…I didn’t mean that…” Murphy sighed. “Ye, uh…there’s police watchin’ over ye, aye? In case those mafia assholes try somethin’?”

“Uh…yes, how did you know?” Since you had been treated mainly as a suspect, you hadn’t expected it, but after your name hit the tabloids, someone called detective Duffy had told you that you were getting protection in case the mafia might want to use you to get to the Saints.

“I imagined it,” Murphy said after a moment, and you thought he was lying, but he just seemed to be hiding so much, what was another lie.

“Where are you, Murphy?” You asked instead.

“We’re in Ireland.”

“Ireland?!” You knew they were on the run but hadn’t imagined they had gone all the way to Ireland.

“Aye…told ye, we had to go hiddin’...da’ thought Ireland was our best shot and he still got contacts so-”

“Dad? That man on the tv with you both was your dad?!” You were feeling dizzy at so many things happening in a short period of time.

“Oh…aye, aye he is!”

“But…how?” You knew he’d gone missing when the twins were babies.

“It’s a long story but-”

“But you’re not going to tell me,” you snapped, bitter, you couldn’t help yourself.

“I don’t have much time... I thought ye were pissed ‘cause I didn’t tell ye anything’, now I call ye and yer still pissed anyway?” Murphy snapped back, which just upset you more.

“Why you even bothered calling me now?”

“I’m startin’ to wonder it myself,” Murphy huffed and you wouldn’t admit that it hurt.

“Well, don’t let me have you be late for killing the Irish mafia,” you joked bitterly.

“Nah, we’re not doin’ that…for now at least,” Murphy answered.

“So, what’s Connor’s plan, then?”

“It’s not only Connor doin’ the plannin’ always, I help too!” Murphy snapped…you knew it, and you had known it’d make Murphy snap so you’d said it. It was petty but you didn’t care.

“Sure…so what?”

“No killing…da’ got us a cabin, there’s nothin’ around, we got some sheep…”

“Sheep.” This conversation kept getting more and more surreal. “What the hell do you or your brother know about sheep?!”

“We’ll learn!” Murphy snapped, defensive.

“So, that’s the plan, you and your brother hide with your dad and become shepherds?”

“I…aye, I guess…” Murphy sounded unsure and it was not reassuring at all.

“For how long?” There were a million things you wanted to ask, but you settled for that.

“Dunno, but…told ye, it’s gonna be a long while before we can show our face…” Yes…forever, maybe…how long would take people to forget about them, what they had done, their faces?

“Yes…so, that’s it, we’re not seeing each other again.”

“It’s not…didn’t say that, just…aye, not for a while, I guess…dunno yet…things are complicated now…”

“No shit!” You would rather snap than cry, and you were feeling like crying forever.

“Why’re ye always so angry!” Murphy snapped back. “It’s not like we wanted to have to go hiding! But the mission is important! We’re doing God’s work! We’re freeing the world of evil! But yer always mad and acting like we’re wrong”

“I already explained why, you can’t get it, I won’t try again,” you said, sad and bitter. “Come on, go back to your sheep then.”

“Aye…aye, I think I’ll name the meaner one after ye.”

“Whatever, Murphy,” you scoffed. You expected him to snap again, but he just sighed.

“Look, I…I really gotta go.”

“Yes, sure-”

You hadn’t even finished the sentence and he’d already hung the phone.

You couldn’t say you wouldn’t cry because of Murphy, because you were already crying, even if you felt stupid.

* You wanted to act like you didn’t care, like this was it, you and Murphy were done, and there was no point in trying to change it, it was impossible by now…but you couldn’t, and not even 24 hours had passed since you had last talked to him, that you had tried contacting him again, only to find that he had called you from a phone booth and so you couldn’t locate him or find a number to phone him

He didn’t call again. You waited, days passed, and Murphy never phoned again.

Quite out of the blue, though, and rather unexpected, one day you found a postcard in your mailbox. It had no address, and it featured a herd of sheep in which you assumed the Irish countryside. All the sheep seemed peaceful but one, who was snapping at another. Written with a marker next to the sheep was your name. Murphy…Murphy had sent this. You scoffed at it, and you called yourself an idiot when you stick it to your fridge with a magnet.

There were no phone calls from Murphy, but every few months you would get a postcard with no address or anything written but seeming to show different landscapes of Ireland.

As time passed, though, the postcards were getting scarcer, until it was two a year, for Christmas and your birthday. You knew that it was for the best. You had to move on, forget Murphy, but it was easier said than done.

Still, years passed, and you moved on with your life.

*

Eight years after Murphy left for Ireland, you were reminded of him, not that he had completely left your mind, in an awful way when the news reported a local priest murdered in the same way that the MacManus used to kill their mafia victims.

You were confused, you didn’t know what was going on…but one thing you knew, the brothers hadn’t done it, they would never kill a priest…unless the priest had done something evil in secret? It might be…or maybe he hadn’t, and the brothers had just turned into full murderers, you had known nothing of them in years…but that didn’t sound right to you.

Besides…weren’t they in Ireland?  Maybe they were back? You couldn’t believe that after eight years, you’d still be a little hurt thinking that Murphy might be back and he wouldn’t contact you…but why would he?

Still, you didn’t think the murderer of the priest were the MacManus, no matter how it had been framed…they might very well still be in Ireland with their sheep…

Or maybe not, since a few days later, while you were running errands, you saw them on the street…they looked older, a bit different, but you’d recognize them in a second.

You were frozen, staring at them, a whirlwind of different thoughts and emotions stirring in you, and then, the brother’s eyes found you.

They seemed frozen too, but you were getting closer, and you realized that, somehow, you were walking to them. Once you were in front of them, you three just stared at each other, while Connor cast a nervous glance around as if afraid you might draw attention.

“Was it you? The priest?” You had a million things you wanted to say, and nothing at the same time, your brain felt fogged, and that was the first thing that came out of your mouth.

“Ye think we did it?” Connor sounded outraged. No, you didn’t think so, but you just shrugged. “Of course we didn’t! That’s why we had to come back! Gonna find whoever did it and put it on us.” So, they had just come back…had they really been herding sheep for eight years? You couldn’t picture them. “Look, Y/N, sorry, but we gotta rush,” Connor said, looking around again, while Murphy was still staring at you in silence.

“Five minutes,” Murphy finally said to his brother. “I’ll catch up to ye.”

The brothers looked at each other for a brief moment, while you were still feeling rather dumbfounded, before Connor nodded curtly. Murphy gestured towards a nearby alley, and you found yourself following him.

You were following Murphy, unsure of what you wanted to do or to say, or if you should just walk away, you were a mess of shock and confusion, when suddenly, Murphy was turning around and wrapping his arms around you to hug you.

“I missed ye, love…”

The hug felt warm and familiar, and you struggled out of it. You wanted to sob and also to yell at him. He couldn’t just ignore you for eight years after the way in which he left, and then hug you as nothing.

As you moved away from his arms, Murphy looked at you like a kicked puppy, but he had no right…you had known nothing of him for eight years besides a postcard here and there, and he had the gall to say that he missed you?

“You missed me? That’s why you disappeared like that, for eight years in which you never called or anything again?” You felt the hurt in your heart as if eight years hadn’t passed. “Don’t you dare to say that.”

Murphy looked down at that, still looking like a kicked puppy but also guilty, and he shrugged. “Last time we talked…it didn’t look like ye wanted me to call ye again.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “So we argued once and you decided not to talk to me ever again? Nice. I had no way to contact you, Murphy! No address, no phone number, nothing!” All your pent-up anger and heartbreak were back.

“It was’ safe, ye know it,” Murphy said, finally looking at you. “We couldn’t have police or mafia getting a chance to track us…not ‘cause we think you’d rat us,” he said before you could snap. “But we didn’t want to risk it and draggin’ ye into the mess.” Yes, as if you hadn’t been dragged into the mess already, with all the questioning from the police and the press trying to pray into your relationship with the MacManus.

“You could have told me that.” Even if you could have guessed something like that, it’d have been nice to hear. “Even if just once, you could have told me that, told me that we were over, instead of just acting like I didn’t exist anymore when you knew I couldn’t contact you again...but you just disappeared…” You were feeling like crying and you hated it, it made you feel weak and silly.

“I sent ye the postcards…” Murphy said, eyes down again, and you snorted.

“Yeah, well, at least that was a way of knowing you were alive and not arrested or murdered by the mafia,” you commented…you had still cared, no matter what.

Murphy nodded. “Detective Duffy, the one who put ye on protection in case mafia came for ye?” He said and you nodded, it’d been years, but you remembered it too well, it’d been scary. “He’s a friend, he helped us, so I told him to help ye…so I knew ye were safe too…”

“Okay…” You muttered, nodding as you looked down, you were still hurt.

You felt Murphy’s hand taking yours, and part of you wanted to pull away, but you didn’t move. “I’m sorry I dragged ye into this, I didn’t mean to,” he said and you knew it was true but you just shrugged. “And I’m sorry I didn’t talk to ye in all these years but…things were complicated…”

“I get it…” You tried to swallow the lump in your throat. “No, you’re right…everything was a mess, it wouldn't have worked out…” Still, you wished he hadn’t disappeared in the way he did.

Murphy was still looking at you like a sad puppy and you didn’t know what else to do or to say…you didn’t even know what to feel.

“I have to go back to Connor,” Murphy said and you nodded…so, that was it, the last time you saw him. At least this time you knew it was the last time…you wondered if it might bring closure…you just felt awful anyway.

You nodded, letting go of his hand, but he just took yours again, looking at you intently.

“Y/N…I know ye don’t believe me and I know I hurt ye, but  I missed ye, and I’m sorry at how things went, I’m sorry I hurt ye, I’m sorry ‘bout this eight years,” he told you, and part of you wanted to believe it while another part didn’t want to…he’d always been so childish but he looked so serious now, like he really meant it… “Right now, it’s what Connor said, we gotta find whoever killed that priest, and I don’t know what’s gonna happen…but if things go well…can I call ye when it’s over? Can I talk to ye again?”

No. You shouldn’t let yourself get dragged into this again… But you just nodded.

“Okay.”

“Really?” Murphy smiled, and how could you have forgotten how damn beautiful he was when he smiled. It was almost unfair. “Okay…okay, give me a few days, I gotta go back to Connor, but when we fix this? I’ll call ye, for real this time.”

You just nodded again and Murphy grinned, before looking around. “Gotta go, we talk soon.” Another nod from you, another smile from him, and then he was rushing away towards where Connor had gone.

You didn’t want to have hope…you knew you shouldn’t…and yet…

* You tried to pay more attention to the news to see if they said something about the MacManus. That’s how a couple of days later, you found out about the shooting and the brothers being detained.

It was bad, but at least they were alive. You tried to content yourself with that…you still worried, though, not knowing what was going to happen to them…and you were surprised at all the support the Saints seemed to be getting, with people even asking for them to be released. Turned out those two had become famous…you just wanted them safe, even if you hadn’t known anything of them for eight years.

A day later, you got a phone call from the prison.

“Hey.” Murphy’s voice, weak and tired, but his voice. “Told ye I’d call ye…things didn’t really go as expected though…”

“I bet.” Why were you feeling like crying? You were silly. “How are you even allowed to call me?”

“One of the guards seems to be a fan,” Murphy said as if nothing. “He’ll delete the number, don’t worry, nobody will know I phoned ye, he made sure there’s no recording either.”

“Okay…are you and Connor alright?”

“Aye…bit battered but we’ll be fine.”

“And are you safe? They said there’s mafia on that prison…”

“Aye, I bet they wanna take our heads,” Murphy said and you didn’t know he could sound so uncaring. “But we’ll be fine.”

“Murphy, that doesn’t sound safe at all.”

“We can take care of ourselves…besides, we’re not gonna be here for long.”

“What?”

“We got some friends, inside and out, they’re gonna get us out of here,” Murphy told you. “Don’t know how or when yet, but we know they’ll help us out.”

“That…doesn’t sound safe either…” They could be caught or anything worse…

“We’ll be fine, love, told ye,” Murphy said again. “We’ll get out of here and we gotta disappear again…but this time I’m not disappearing from your life like I did before, I’ll contact you once we’re out of here.”

You shouldn’t believe it…but you did. You should tell him not to do anything reckless…but you didn’t. You didn’t think he’d have listened anyway.

“Just…just be careful… and if you can’t call me again, I…it’s okay, I get it.” You sighed sadly, but you did get it…things were even a bigger mess now.

“I’ll call ye, I promise…gotta go now, next time we speak, my brother and I will be out of here.”

“Okay…take care…”

* For little more than a month, you knew nothing of the MacManus. There was nothing on the news, thankfully, and you didn’t get more from calls.

Next, one night, your phone rang.

“Hey, love, told ye I’ll call ye.”

***

N/A

So...this was not very good. But I hadn’t written in a long time and it got me weeks just to write this since it seems I barely feel like writing, so I’ll take it.

I’m sorry that I couldn’t do justice to the request.

Please, if you enjoyed this, let me know your thoughts in a comment, and as always, reblogs are more than welcome.

As always, excuse my English, it’s not my first language.​

#murphy macmanus #murphy macmanus x reader #murphy macmanus/reader #murphy macmanus fanfiction #murphy macmanus imagine #murphy macmanus fic #murphy macmanus fanfic #murphy macmanus & reader

[theteasetwrites]

Thy Saints Surrounded

Chapter 8: Too Close to Home

❧ Pairing: Murphy MacManus x Female Reader ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: swearing, mentions of traumatic experience and gore ❧ Word Count: 7.1k

❧ In This Chapter: Murphy is on a mission to solve a mystery, and to put an end to the mob violence that's somehow made its way into his life. Meanwhile, you learn something new about Murphy and Connor's past, something that hits close to home.

❧ A/N: I am so embarrassed at how long it takes me to write these lol. Sorry. Also this isn't the best chapter. It's kind of short on Murphy and Reader content, but I tried. It's more plot than anything I think. At least there are a few cute moments between them. And I really wanted to add some backstory with Murphy and Connor to explain why they hate the mob and organized crime. I feel like it gives more context and helps justify their actions in the movie. Enjoy!

A series of impatient knocks on the door was the last thing you expected to wake you that morning, just hours after waking up on top of a bar, wrapped in the arms of Murphy. 

Murphy, who was outside the front door of your apartment, bickering with his brother. The muffled sounds of their arguing voices grew louder as your bare feet moved against the cool hardwood floor. 

You couldn’t quite hear them in your tired state, only a few words stood out—something about “get yourself killed” and “I can handle it,” with mentions of Rocco and Tony and your name thrown in. 

The twins looked slightly fisheyed through the peephole, or maybe it was your blurred vision from your eyes still struggling to wake. Either way, they were obscured.

You quickly rubbed your eyes and shook your head, and ran your fingers through your messy bedhead to fix it. You were just about to unlock the door when you realized you were in only a nightshirt and panties, so you scrambled to the bathroom to locate your robe.

“Are you in there, lass?” Murphy called out, pounding on the door again. “I gotta see ya.”

Oh, you thought to yourself, smiling at your blushing reflection in the bathroom mirror as you fixed your hair once again. He’s insatiable… 

“Coming!”

When you opened the door, you weren’t expecting him to lunge at you, reaching out to cup your cheeks in his hands as Connor stepped in behind him.

His eyes roamed all over your face, as if trying to make sure you were really there. “Thank God, you’re all right,” he sighed. 

You furrowed your brows and laughed. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Murphy’s got a big theory,” Connor replied, moving his hands around whimsically as he rolled his eyes.

“Whoa,” you said. Your attention immediately turned from Murphy to Connor, who looked like he’d just fallen down a flight of stairs. “What happened to you?”

Murphy grabbed your shoulders to turn your gaze back to him, partly to shield your eyes from Connor’s gruesome state, and partly just to look into your eyes one more time. 

“He’s fine,” he said. “Just, uh… We were wrestling.”

“What?” piped Connor. 

Murphy shot a stern look over your shoulder at his twin. “Yeah… I won. Poor guy, he didn’t stand a chance.”

Connor’s competitive nature kicked in, though he tried to stick to the story. “No way, I won, shithead.”

“Don’t be a sore loser, Con.” He looked back to you, smirking in pride at the made up victory. “Tried to go easy on him, lass, but I guess I didn’t know my own strength.”

Charm seemed to exude from the man with every word on his lips, which looked particularly soft and pink this morning, not long after you’d met them with yours. You couldn’t help but shrug bashfully, and smile not only with your lips, but your hazy, half-lidded eyes. 

“You’re so tough,” you said.

Connor moved to stand beside you, alerting you to his presence. Murphy seemed to command your attention, but Connor was resting his hand on your shoulder, slightly tugging you away. 

“Don’t listen to a word he says, lass. I won fair and square.”

You found that hard to believe, considering how mauled Connor looked. Now that you thought about, and weren’t being charmed by Murphy’s silver tongue, you figured it was unlikely such bruises and cuts resulted from a playful wrestling match between brothers. No, there was something they weren’t telling you. 

“What are you guys doing here, anyway?”

The brothers exchanged a look as they tried to keep cool. “Well, uh… I just missed you, mo shíorghrá. Is that so hard to believe?” Indeed, he did miss you, even during the two hours or so he’d been away from you, but his true intention was to make sure you hadn’t been hurt by Tony, who seemed to be on some kind of rampage. 

You tilted your head and fluttered your eyelashes at the thought, and the sweet new pet name he seemed intent on making a habit. “Oh, I missed you too, Murph.”

When his lips met yours, you heard Connor groan as he slipped into the bathroom, a bit of privacy for which you were thankful.

Though his kiss was at first chaste, you trapped him in your embrace by wrapping your arms tight around the back of his neck, causing him to gasp in adorable surprise.

His tongue dared to breach the entrance of your mouth, and soon you felt his hands undoing the belt of your robe. His fingers deftly tickled your skin as he lifted your shirt just enough to cup your mound over your panties. Even angels couldn’t make the sound that came out of your mouth—a sweet, breathy gasp. 

“You sure you just came here because you missed me?” you asked. 

He smirked devilishly. For such a sweet man, he had such an impish look about him, like he was always about to cause some kind of mischief. Those cunning blue eyes of his, narrower in the inner corner and slightly hooded and deep set, were always accompanied by a little sparkle of playful wit. His hand seemed glued to your body as it gently rubbed up and down the soft warmth of your mound. 

“Well, I guess maybe I was havin’ some dirty thoughts…” He kissed you. “Maybe I couldn’t wait to see you tonight…” He kissed you again, longer this time. “Maybe I just needed to feel you, lass… Do you wanna hear my dirty thoughts?” The hand on your lower back slid down to squeeze the flesh of your bottom, a movement which made you squeal into his mouth at the sudden feeling. 

“Murphy,” you laughed, tugging his hands from you before retying your robe. “Your brother’s here… Actually, um, why is he here?”

You had no intention to sound rude, or as though you didn’t like Connor, but you were confused, to say the least. Why would Murphy show up just a few hours after you last saw him with his beaten and battered twin brother in tow? And you knew he hadn’t sustained his injuries for wrestling. From what you knew of Murphy, he could never hurt anyone like that, especially not Connor.

“Oh,” he said. Now he’d have to explain himself. He’d have to explain how he was on the hunt for Tony, who’d beaten his brother as he walked home last night from McGinty’s. He’d have to explain that he was on his way to get to the bottom of Shannon’s murder, and to make sure hers was the last.

“Well, I, uh… Listen, love, something happened last night after Connor left the bar. I didn’t wanna tell ya ‘cause I thought it might upset you, but maybe you should know. Tony and his mates beat up Connor.”

You stepped back and out of his arms, terrified at the thought and wracking your brain to figure out how such a thing could happen. You knew Tony wasn’t a good guy, but you didn’t think he’d go that far to hurt the brothers. 

“What? Why?”

Asking “why” seemed pointless, as there was certainly not a rhyme or reason, but it was simply a knee-jerk reaction. Why would anyone beat another person? Especially someone like Connor, who might’ve been a little drunk last night, but from what you knew of him, he was a good person. 

Murphy moved towards you to take your trembling hands in his. He could feel your anxiety vibrating all around him, until he held you once again.

“He’s just a bad guy,” he said softly. “He hurts people. You know, I… I think he might’ve had something to do with Shannon. And… I was worried he’d try to hurt you, too.” 

“Oh, Murphy,” you sighed, a little too dreamily considering the conversation. Still, you couldn’t quite help it. He could charm you with nothing more than a whisper on his breath, a faint sound that might go unnoticed if you didn’t hang on for dear life to every word he said. “I’m fine. It’s you and Connor I’m worried about… So, are you going to go to the police?”

Police? he thought. Why the hell would I do a thing like that? 

“Not if I want something done about it,” he said. “Only thing police are good for is standing around doing nothing while guys like Tony get away with murder. It’s not gonna happen no more.”

Your eyes widened at that. How on Earth was he going to handle this by himself? It’d only cause more problems, you were sure. “What are you going to do?”

In truth, he didn’t have much of a plan. Connor was the one to figure out plans, not Murphy—he was much too impatient for the act of sitting around and planning. No, he needed action. Doing before thinking. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Just gonna smooth things over. I got a plan.” Well, he didn’t, really. He looked between you and the bathroom door, biting his lip as he thought. At least he was used to thinking on his feet. “It all right if Connor stays here for a little while?” Confusion washed over your face. “I mean, I would rather you weren’t alone, you know? And he should rest or something.”

Connor must’ve heard Murphy’s words, as he quickly bursted out of the bathroom, still buttoning his jeans. “Nah,” he said. “No way. I’m going with you. Ain’t stayin’ here. No offense.”

“Connor,” said Murphy with a point of his finger. “You’re stayin’ here.” His gaze softened as he looked at you, biting his lip and squeezing your hand. Even if he hadn’t said he loved you last night, you were sure you’d be able to tell just by that look he was giving you. Murphy wore his heart on his sleeve, and you were beginning to see that more and more. “I don’t want (Y/N) to be alone.”

Connor scoffed, and gestured his hands emphatically as he spoke. “Aw, come on, she’s fine. Just lock the door, lass. We’ll deal with Tony.”

“I’ll deal with him,” replied Murphy. 

“Aw, you’re such a fuckin’ gobshite! Look what happened to me!” His finger traced a circle in the air around his face. “You think you stand a better chance?”

“I’ll figure it out!” Murphy barked back. 

“Oh, right, like you ever figure anything out for yourself! I’m the one who figures shit out, Murph! Me!”

The two brothers got a little too close for your liking, with their noses coming dangerously close to hitting each other as their chests puffed in a display of ridiculous aggression. 

Incoherent bickering ensued, their voices and increasingly thick accents blending into one cacophony of curses until your voice cut through, albeit with some effort. Those boys could be loud when they wanted to be.

“Hey!” you said. “What the hell?” Connor and Murphy looked between you and each other in confusion. “Why don’t you both leave if you’re gonna act like this. How old are you?”

“Twenty-seven,” both brothers answered in their strange twin unison.

“Well, act like it!”

Connor shook his head as he realized his bickering and arguing would never stop Murphy from doing what he felt he needed to do, but the question was: could he let his twin risk his life just because of some stupid fight? 

“You’re gonna be smart, right?” he asked. “None of this impulsive Murphy shit. You go find Rocco… Get him to help ya. No violence. No one gets hurt.” For now. He didn’t need to say it, his eyes communicated those two words just fine, and Murphy understood. He nodded slowly, eyes on the floor as he went through twenty different variations of plans inside his rattled head. It wasn’t often he dealt with situations on his own like this, not without Connor, his guide.

“It’ll be fine. Just gonna sort this out. Get to the bottom of things.” 

“Right,” scoffed Connor. “Detective Murph on the case. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.”

You saw Murphy out the front door, while Connor made himself quite comfortable on the sofa, already being inspected by the curious Mimsy. 

Worry seemed to overcome the dark-haired twin, whose hands cupped your cheeks and whose downturned eyelashes fluttered as he scanned your face, hardwiring it to his memory. Even another few hours apart from you might ruin him. A taste of Heaven was not enough, not when a whole world of bliss and unearthly pleasure was right in front of him, leaning into his soft palm with the plump, warm cheeks of an angel.

“I still think you should go to the police,” you said, trailing your hands up and down his wrists as he held your face. “Let them deal with it. I know you’re angry about them hurting Connor, but… I just couldn’t stand it if something happened to you.”

He huffed and shook his head. Sweet cherub, he thought. I love this girl.

“Nothin’s gonna happen to me, m'aingeal. I know what I’m doing. I might be a fool but I’m not an eejit.”

You snorted and rolled your eyes. How could he be so damn adorable, with those shiny, crisp blue eyes and those short, jagged dark brown locks pointing every which way on his head… There was no way he was human. He had to be some kind of impish creature sent to Earth just to toy with you, to challenge your ability to stay focused on anything but loving a man. It was difficult. You were head over heels. You were head over heels for this man, one man. One terribly cute man.

“What’s the difference between a fool and an… eejit?” 

Murphy let out a boyish giggle at the sound of the foreign word in your American accent, the one he found so delightfully cute.

He smiled and laced his hands around your back to pull you closer, until he could rest a kiss upon your forehead. “An eejit does stupid shit because he’s stupid,” he said. “A fool does stupid shit because he’s in love.”

“In love?” you asked, a giggle springing up like a daisy in your voice. “Are you saying you’re in love with me, Murphy MacManus?”

Of course, you knew he loved you by now. He’d said it enough last night and earlier that morning, and he’d shown it with every move he made, every falter in his voice when he lost his train of thought because he was too busy being tackled by the overwhelming feeling of utter, almost pathetic, adoration for you. Still, you liked to hear it. 

“You know I’m a fool for you,” he answered. “You know I love you.”

A profusion of pink bloomed on your cheeks, and though you’d heard him say those words before, it was still so new and sweet. Those words were familiar, but no one spoke them like him, not the way he meant it, not the way he looked at you when he said it. 

“I love you, too.” Your hands pulled his cheeks forward until your lips met his for a sweet, innocent kiss. Maybe your feelings for him were becoming increasingly sexual, more deep and intimate than before, but he would always be so pure and sweet to you, much as you were to him. First love, they say, is always like that. First, last, always, you hoped. 

“See you later,” he said. The tip of his button nose rubbed softly against yours, as the breath from his mouth grazed over your lips. “Tonight… It’ll be even better than last night.”

“Just don’t do anything stupid.”

The first thing he did when he left your apartment building was, in fact, stupid. 

“Rocco,” he said, greeting the half-asleep Italian-American man on the other line of the pay phone across the street from your place. “I need your help with somethin’. I need you to find out where that Tony guy is.”

“Why… why the hell would I know?” he replied. His groggy voice signaled that he was just waking up, much earlier than he was used to, too. 

“‘Cause you’re in that mafia crowd. You know shit.”

He did, in fact, know shit. Shit he probably didn’t want to know. He knew about people being offed left and right, and he knew a little too much about everyone in Giuseppe Yakavetta’s phone book. 

“Goddamnit, Murphy,” he said. “What do ya want me to do, huh?”

Murphy’s face scrunched in frustration as he scratched his head, trying his hardest to muster up some kind of plan. All he knew was he needed to do something. That tattoo on his hand didn’t mean Justice for nothing. 

“Fuck!” he suddenly exclaimed. “I dunno, just… Where does he live, huh? Let’s start with that.”

“Jesus Christ,” Rocco huffed. “You’ve lost it. Where’s Connor?”

“He’s not here… He got jumped by Tony and his buddies last night.”

That seemed to grab Rocco’s attention. “Well, shit, Murph. Why didn’t you start with that?”

Despite Murphy’s lack of driving skill, he drove Connor’s car to Rocco’s apartment, picking him up before heading to what Rocco knew to be the nephew of Papa Joe’s apartment. It was in a nicer part of town, but it still seemed rather unassuming. There weren’t goons perched outside, waiting for guys like Murphy to climb up the stairs and assassinate the guy. He must not have been that important, which Murphy found quite amusing.

“This is so fuckin’ stupid,” Rocco repeated several times in several different variations under his breath as they climbed the stairs to the second floor of the apartment building. “This guy has guns, Murph. Hell, Connor’s lucky he got out alive.”

“Relax,” he replied. “Which number was it now?”

Rocco hesitated, flashing Murphy a begging look, as if to say, please don’t make me do this. 

“Twenty-four.”

He reluctantly followed the determined Murphy, who wasted no time in knocking on the apartment door.

Rocco seemed to back away slightly, until Murphy pulled him by his coat sleeve, just as a wifebeater-wearing Tony opened the door.

“What the fuck is this?” he asked, thick Italian-American accent loud and clear. To Murphy’s surprise, and Rocco’s relief, he didn’t seem to recognize the package boy.

Murphy’s anger at the man’s face overwhelmed any rationality he’d conjured up on the way there. In a black out of rage, he found himself grabbing Tony by the straps of his shirt, pushing him further into the apartment until he was leaned up against the wall, with Rocco quickly closing the door in a panic.

“Murph!” he yelled. “Christ!”

“You fucked with the wrong brother, dumbass,” Murphy hissed. “You wanna fight someone then fight me.”

He loosened his grip and shoved him against the wall with a thud. Holding back his urge to pummel him, he realized he was here for answers, too. Answers to Shannon’s death, which he had convinced himself Tony had something to do with. 

“Did ya kill that girl in the coffee shop?” he asked inelegantly. After all, he never even planned out exactly what he was going to say. 

Tony’s expression changed from confused to a broad, amused smile in a matter of seconds, though Murphy remained dead serious.

“No,” he said. “I don’t kill people. I don’t get my hands dirty.”

“But you had something to do with it?”

He tilted his head and leaned forward to push Murphy by his chest. “I don’t have to tell you shit, you dumb fuckin’ mick.”

Murphy had little time to think before he struck him, hitting the man across the face so hard he tumbled into the dining room table. 

He steadied himself as he wiped his lip. Blood had begun to seep from the cut. “You’ve got some fuckin’ nerve. Jesus Christ!”

“I’m not leavin’ here till you tell me why you had Shannon killed!”

He spat a glob of saliva and blood across the room before he answered. “Had a guy wait for a girl to show up at the café. Didn’t care if it was her or (Y/N)… Just wanted someone dead. Told him to kill the first girl he saw comin’ in. Simple as that. Happens everyday. Just another dead girl.”

Murphy’s eyes narrowed intently as his body felt the weight of his anger bearing him down, keeping him steady, and yet immensely burdened by the pressure. Just another dead girl, he heard over and over in his head. That could’ve been you. That could’ve been anyone. Shannon didn’t deserve to die just because of a man’s wounded pride, just because a man had been rejected. 

The smugness in Tony’s carefree smirk only added fuel to the fire. He was confident, without guilt or fear. He knew Murphy was powerless against him. He knew even if Murphy went to the police, nothing would be done. There’s no justice in the world, he thought. Not for people like this. 

“You mean to tell me,” he said, “that you had a woman killed just because (Y/N) wouldn’t give ye the fuckin’ time of day? Is that it?“

He wasn’t sure why he was asking. He knew that was the reason, he just couldn’t believe it.

“You didn’t even care who it was,” he added, as if trying to make more sense of the concept by saying it all out loud. It only sounded worse. “You didn’t care if it was (Y/N), you just wanted someone dead… And if it wasn’t (Y/N), it’d be someone she cared about?”

Tony huffed. “Just how it goes. And your brother… I was bored.”

Murphy lunged forward once again, gripping Tony’s shirt so hard that he could hear a few seams ripping.

“Don’t ya ever touch my brother or (Y/N),” he said. “It’s not a warning, it’s a threat. I’ll kill you if I see you again.”

“Kill me?” he asked. “Buddy, Papa Joe knows where you live now. He knows how many steps you take in a day. You try anything and you’re dead. You squeal to the cops and you’re gonna wish you were dead.”

Murphy seemed to freeze in place, keeping a heavy, piercing stare into the young mafioso’s eyes. Time didn’t seem to mean much at all for a moment as he saw flashes of memories he wished could have faded in the eight years since they’d happened, but something like that didn’t go away easily. 

The shine in Tony’s pupil was not dissimilar from the glisten of the cherry red puddle pooling around his feet that crisp overcast morning. In plain sight, in broad daylight, in the middle of the street in Limerick. Too close to home. 

“Murph!” Rocco’s voice resounded with an echo from behind him. He pulled him by force from Tony, though his body was so stiff it became easily movable, compact and somehow hollow. “The hell is wrong with you, man?”

His brain seemed to rattle in his head as he shook himself out of his brief stupor. Tony’s chest puffed up, then he turned to retrieve something from the kitchen drawer just behind him. “You better get the fuck outta here now,” he said, now wielding a silver pistol he pointed with one confident hand at Murphy and Rocco, who quickly backstepped back towards the door. “Only reason I haven’t used this yet is ‘cause I got one bullet left. Don’t wanna waste it on one of you sorry pricks.”

Rocco yanked Murphy further out the door as he held it open with one hand, then turned back to say his only words to Tony: “This was all his idea,” he said. “I had absolutely nothin’ to do with it. Just here for moral support.”

The events of Murphy’s morning were certainly more exciting than yours, as meanwhile you were left to sit awkwardly watching Connor attempt to ice his back. 

He contorted uncomfortably with a hiss to reach behind and graze the aching spot with the ice pack you’d given him, though it was just as painful for you to watch him.

“Here,” you said, lifting yourself up from the couch and preparing a throw pillow for him to rest his head on. “Lay down.”

At first he seemed reluctant, huffing as he crossed the studio apartment to the edge of the couch. Out of the corner of his eye, he met the gaze of Mimsy, who watched intently as she waited for him to settle in place. 

“That cat’s got something evil in its eyes,” he said, leaning back slowly before crossing his ankles over each other. “Never liked cats.”

You took the ice pack from his hand and lifted his back (with a bit of a grunting protest from him) to place the ice pack underneath him, keeping it steady. 

“There, that’s better… And maybe you just haven’t given cats a chance.” 

He raised an eyebrow, turning to face you as you sat on the adjacent armchair. “Your brother likes cats,” you pointed out. A ball of white fur entered your field of vision as Mimsy jumped onto Connor’s stomach with her whole body weight, causing him to flinch and grunt in pain. Despite your slight urge to laugh, you quickly moved to remove the feline from his belly, then sat back down with her tucked in your arms. “I think she likes you. She loves Murphy.”

“Pfft,” he scoffed, wiping the myriad white hairs that had settled on his black t-shirt. “Cats can’t love. Evil things.”

He raised his eyes when he noticed you fell silent, focusing on petting the purring animal with downcast eyes. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m, uh… in a mood.”

“It’s okay. Can I get you anything? Water or something?”

“Got anything that’ll disinfect my insides?”

“No.”

He sighed and covered his eyes with the back of his arm. “Water’s fine.”

In awkward silence, you poured a glass of water and set it on the coffee table, within Connor’s reach. You pushed the glass closer and closer to the edge, hoping you wouldn’t have to force him to reach too far in his injured state. The guilt washed over you with each pass you made over his bruised face, and the bruises on his stomach and chest that could only be seen when his shirt lifted at certain angles. 

“I’m sorry,” you blurted out, not entirely sure why you should be sorry. You didn’t inflict that pain on him, but maybe if you hadn’t kept Connor at the bar last night, or if you’d never gotten the brothers involved with Tony in the first place, he wouldn’t have been beaten to a pulp. Murphy wouldn’t be out doing God knows what, and you wouldn’t be just a little bit more scared for your own life than you were the day before.

“What the hell are you sorry for?”

You replaced yourself on the armchair, moving Mimsy out of the way as you did so. “I’m sorry those guys hurt you.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“If it weren’t for me, Tony wouldn’t know who you are. Now Murphy’s pissed, and I don’t want him to get hurt either. I don’t want anyone getting hurt. Not like Shannon.”

Connor huffed and folded his hands behind his head, propping himself up just a little more to look at you. You never realized how much he looked like Murphy. It wasn’t a particularly obvious resemblance, since at first glance their features were quite different, but when you really looked at him, for the first time, you saw that same kindness in his eyes. His eyes were bigger, even more expressive than Murphy’s. They seemed to tell a story deeper than his, something more somber and real. Murphy’s eyes were playfully cunning and somehow both sharp and soft in their gaze; Connor’s eyes displayed an intensity and a wide range of deep emotions that almost made you uncomfortable in their depth. You couldn’t look at him as long as you could look at Murphy, but maybe Murphy was just more familiar to you, more connected. Still, both of them had those kind faces—the kind of face with soft, handsome features that spoke volumes without uttering so much as a word. 

“Murphy doesn’t think,” he said. “But he’s not gonna get himself hurt.”

“How do you know?” you asked genuinely. “I mean, he seems so… impulsive. Reckless, even. Don’t get me wrong, I—Well, I love that about him in a way.” Your body tightened as you averted your gaze, slightly embarrassed by your usage of the “L” word in front of Murphy’s brother. “These mafia people… They’re scary.”

Connor shook his head and propped himself up further until his aching back was separated from the soothing cold of the ice pack beneath him. 

“It’s nothing new, lass,” he said, a softness in his voice you hadn’t heard from him before. “There’s always been people like that…”

He seemed to trail off, his eyes focusing on the purring ball of white fur in your lap, curled up, her limbs daintily spread out like the petals of a pure white snowdrop.

“Did, uh… Did Murph ever tell ya about a kid named Jack?”

You smiled and nodded, remembering the night Murphy told you of a boy he used to know, whose cat followed him and Connor home from his house. A simple story, but you remembered everything he said. Words in his voice echoed in your head as it ached to memorize them with every unique inflection and idiosyncrasy. 

“He talked about how his cat would follow you home… You thought it was a bad omen, or something like that.”

He smirked at the memory, but that wasn’t the first thought he had when Jack came to mind.

“Did he tell you what happened to him?”

You furrowed your brow in confusion at the question, at the serious tone in his voice. How could such an innocent little anecdote lead Connor to be so somber? It reminded you of that look you’d seen in Murphy’s eyes when you asked about his tattoo—the one on his right hand. ÆQUITAS.

“He only mentioned him once, offhandedly,” you replied with a shrug. “I… didn’t know anything happened to him.” 

Connor’s back straightened as his body stiffened. Bruises seemed to burn and the ink on his left hand seemed to seep further into the cracks of his skin, dyeing the muscle underneath. Tiny pin needles weaved relentlessly across his body, each prick representing a new old image being brought back to the surface. It had been becoming more potent these days, and Murphy felt it too. He believed it wasn’t just a coincidence.

“Jack was murdered,” he said bluntly, then swallowed hard to absorb the blow. “There’s… Irish mob in the city. Limerick. We were maybe nineteen, with some other guys, too, but Jack was… He got the bullet.”

You shook your head in surprise as you processed that. It was just about the last thing you had expected to hear, but then again, things were becoming dark all around you recently. Even the usual darkness of the pitch black that crept into your apartment each night seemed a little more deep. A little more vacant. A little more sinister. 

“Oh my god,” you said. “I had no idea… I’m so sorry.”

The muscles in Connor’s face seemed to lose all strength as they wilted and froze into place. He couldn’t even blink for quite a few moments, as somewhere on the hardwood floor he relived that moment. He could see a shadow of his childhood friend’s body lying limp and writhing in agony as blood seeped from his abdomen. Gradually, he began to not move at all, until cat sidhe slinked through the mysterious mist to claim his soul before God could. At least, that’s what Connor saw in his mind. What cruel fate had befallen the young man—shot down in the middle of the street on a foggy October morning, only to be victim to that mythical black cat with the scruffy patch of white on his chest. 

He cleared his throat to wake himself from that nightmarish daydream he’d somehow fallen into. “Uh, yeah… We were just out and about, walking downtown. Jack didn’t have anything to do with those assholes. He barely ever even left his house. That night before, we finally got him to go out to the pub with us. Walkin’ back home in the morning… He just went down.”

The gunshot seemed to ring out from a distance. The first gunshot he’d ever heard, and he’d hoped it would be the last, but he knew from that moment on that that wasn’t his fate. 

On bended knees he hit the gravel of the busy city street, while on the other side of Jack’s body, blood seeped between Murphy’s shaky fingers as he tried in vain to stop the bleeding. 

He couldn’t quite recall every word that was frantically spoken, every scream that echoed in the panicked street that day, but he knew one thing for sure: both he and Murphy had seen the flash of the perpetrator’s face as he rolled down the tinted window of that fancy black car. They’d only known him from wanted signs and reports on the evening news. They said to look out for a bloodthirsty assassin who was high in the upper echelons of the local Irish mob. All Connor and Murphy knew at the time was that people called him Angel of Death. 

Of course, Jack’s death wasn’t planned, nor orchestrated by the mob. It was a random killing, meant to distract the general public as a robbery commenced across the street. They needed to create chaos, so that’s what they did. It was a slap in the face of human morality.

“Did they ever catch the guy?”

“Didn’t even look. Not enough, anyway. Even if they had, whatever he got wouldn’t have been enough. Jack never hurt anyone. All he cared about was that stupid cat.”

Connor’s eyes trailed to Mimsy, whose green eyes met his in sympathetic curiosity. It was like she understood everything he had said, and knew his pain. She knew much more than those strange cat eyes could ever really show.

“Ya know… After that, Murph and I knew we had to do something.”

His voice turned low and ominous, and you furrowed your brow in confusion at the statement. “Do what?”

He sighed and leaned forward. “Do you believe in destiny?” he asked.

Silence settled in as you tried to think of your answer to that nebulous question. “I, um… I don’t know. That’s a hard question.”

“But it’s an important question, lass,” he replied. “Think about it.”

You shrugged and willed yourself to really think on it for a while. For fear of putting your foot in your mouth in front of the brother of the man you loved, you had to know exactly what your answer was, and it had to be a good one.

“Well, um… I think maybe there’s some destiny. People are born in certain circumstances, and that sort of… predisposes them for things to happen. But I don’t know if there’s a big plan for all of us. I mean, life is complicated.”

“Aye, it is,” he said. “But God, lass… God has a plan for everyone.”

You’d once recalled Murphy mentioning that Connor was the more religious of the two. That explained a lot.

“I knew it from that day on,” he continued. “I knew Murphy and me had a purpose. We just need a sign.”

“A sign for what?” you asked, confused by Connor’s cryptic language. 

“A sign to fight for truth and justice.” He held his left hand out towards you, tracing his right index finger along the Latin word on his hand, VERITAS. “We’re getting closer to it. I can feel it. Hell, I wouldn’t have let Murphy go out today if I didn’t think it was destined.”

He pulled his arm back and leaned against the pillow once more, readjusting the ice pack as he did. You were left still pondering on what he meant, until his voice croaked up again, this time almost in a whisper. “You and Murphy,” he said. “Maybe you were meant for each other.”

You tilted your head as the corner of your lip curled at his words. “Really?”

“He seems to think so,” he said, much to your delight as your cheeks rouged in flattery. “He’s always kinda been a romantic, you know. When we were little, he talked about getting married. A lot. I made fun of him for it, always goin’ on and on about the kind of girl he wanted to marry. He always says girls don’t like him, but they do. They like that he’s…”

Connor’s hand danced around in the air as he tried to figure out the word to describe what women saw in Murphy.

“Sensitive?” you asked.

“Yeah. Sensitive. More than me. He just never met a girl like you. Not a girl he loved like you. Tell you the truth, I was worried you’d… make him forget about what we have to do. That ya’d sweep him off his feet, get his head in the clouds. I mean, you did, but maybe it’s not so bad. Maybe it’s a good thing. It’s happening, so I guess it’s meant to be. Part of God’s plan, you know?”

You smiled wide and giggled under your breath, though Connor was dead serious. He didn’t take God or destiny lightly. “Um, yeah. I know what you mean… I love Murphy, Connor. He means a lot to me. I’d never want to get in the way of you two, or your plans. I just want to be with him. That’s all.”

Finally, Connor smiled again, realizing once and for all that you weren’t a burden on his brother’s mind. In fact, when he really thought about it, your presence in his life had made Murphy happier, and all he ever wanted was for his brother to be happy. What else could he ask for? You must’ve been part of God’s plan, he supposed. You were here, changing Murphy for the better, and maybe even getting the MacManus brothers just a little closer to their sign, which Connor was convinced was coming sooner rather than later. Besides, anything ordained by God was sure to be a good thing.

“I know you love him,” he said. “I know he loves you. He thinks you’re an angel… Thinks you’re the girl of his dreams, the one he always talked about marrying.”

You rolled your shoulders in bashful giddiness. You knew Murphy was a bit of a hopeless romantic, but you had no idea he was that serious about you. Of course, it was much too soon to even think about marriage, but you had to admit, if there would ever be a man you’d want to marry, it would be him.

“I hope he’s right,” you said. “I don’t want to disappoint him.”

“You won’t.”

You felt a weight lift from your lap as Mimsy jumped across the way to the arm of the couch, and slinked her way up to Connor’s chest, where she planted herself in the shape of a loaf. 

“Mim!” you laughed, then continued to speak directly to the inordinately affectionate feline. Something about these MacManus brothers must’ve really impressed her. She seemed to like them almost more than she liked you. “Connor doesn’t like cats.” 

Connor’s hands stroked her back as she lowered her head, letting sleep take hold of her, as it so often did for the lazy little animal.

“Nah, it’s fine,” he said, surprising you. “I, uh… I think I might like cats now.”

When Murphy returned later that afternoon, you thanked his God that he was all right. Not a scratch on him, but he was tired. More than that, he seemed defeated. Hopeless, even. 

He insisted upon staying with you that night, with Connor snoring on the sofa (alongside Mimsy, who had curled up near his chest, her head close to his heart). 

Murphy squinted his eyes in the darkness, peeking over the room divider to get a glimpse of Connor’s arm wrapped loosely around the sleeping cat. 

“Christ,” he muttered. “How the hell did that happen?”

You came up behind him to rest your chin on his freckled shoulder, as your hands curled delicately around his sides. “I think Mimsy might love Connor even more than she loves you,” you said. “Don’t take it personally.” You raised a hand to comb your fingertips through his short, choppy hair, still a little wet from his shower. “I still love you.”

He huffed and leaned his head back to rest momentarily on your shoulder before he kissed your cheek, then turned around to face you. “I gotta tell ya somethin’,” he said, and in your slight fear he’d tell you he didn’t love you anymore, you grasped tight around his shoulders, pulling him closer. He felt so sturdy, and yet in his face was a fragility and vulnerability the likes of which you hadn’t seen in him before. 

“You can tell me anything.”

You felt him gently guide you backwards, until the back of your knees folded against the edge of your bed. He held your hands in both of his as he sat beside you, causing you to panic even more. 

“Murphy,” you whispered, afraid that if you spoke any louder you might break out into tears just from the way he was looking at you. You never thought those mischievous blue eyes could be so forlorn, but here they were—oceans of melancholy. “You’re freaking me out… What is it?”

“(Y/N),” he said, “Tony had Shannon killed.”

Your eyes widened briefly, then fluttered in confusion as you shook your head. “He… What?”

His grasp on your hands grew tighter, tight enough he could feel you shaking. “After what happened at the station, I guess… I guess he was pissed. He had someone kill her.”

You shook your head and separated your hand to cover your mouth. Tears quickly drenched your cheeks, and you pressed your hand harder to keep the sobs as muffled as you could. “H-how… Why? Why would he…”

Strong arms wrapped all around you like a blanket, bringing you into his bare chest with his fingers laced between loose strands of your hair. 

Guilt washed over you for the second time today. The consequences of your actions once again involved someone getting hurt. You had hoped that Shannon’s murder had nothing to do with Tony, nothing to do with that guy you’d already regretted knowing, but somewhere in the back of your mind, you had known it all along. You just didn’t want to admit it could have even been possible.

“This… This is all my fault,” you cried against his chest. “Shit… Murphy, now you’re in this too. You and Connor… and Shannon’s dead because I wanted a free ride.”

“Hey,” he said, lifting your chin with a delicate hand, your glassy eyes reddened, with pearls of translucent tears resting on your bottom lashes. “You didn’t know who he was. You couldn’t have known, lass. It’s not your fault.”

He couldn’t even fathom telling you that Tony’s assassin could’ve killed you if you had been where Shannon was that morning. Just seeing the fear in you now, as you realized the kind of people Tony and his family really were, was too much for him to bear. 

You shook your head and sniffled in an attempt to hold back any more tears. “We have to tell the police,” you said. “They can do something. They have to do something.”

“We will tell them,” he said. “We’ll tell them… (Y/N).”

He lifted your face to meet his once again, this time with both hands cupped around your cheeks to brush away the remnants of your tears. “I’ll never let anything happen to you,” he said. “I’ll keep you safe. I swear to God, you’re safe, and everything will be all right.”

You shut your eyes tight and nodded with a strained face. “Connor told me about Jack. About how he died. I don’t want anyone to die like that. I didn’t want Shannon to die like that. You never realize what it’s like until it happens to you.”

He nodded before holding you tight once again, feeling your chest move as you took a deep breath. Being held by him had some kind of calming effect, strong enough to make you forget for just a split second every ounce of irrational guilt that weighed down on you. 

“It’s gotta stop,” he said. “It’s gonna stop. I promise you.”

~

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments of any kind are always appreciated!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter ➳

~

✏ Taglist

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#murphy macmanus x you #murphy macmanus fanfiction #murphy macmanus fanfic #murphy macmanus x reader #murphy macmanus #the boondock saints fanfiction #the boondock saints fanfic #the boondock saints #norman reedus fanfiction #norman reedus fanfic #norman reedus x reader #norman reedus

[dreamsallalongthewatchtower]

Pt. 1

Notes: nothing bad, just fluff, some swearing.

Word Count: 1.1k

Violet had been anxiously waiting for her shift to end. After she had finished her side work, she could clock out and go pick up her brother from the airport. “Hey lady,” a voice said behind Violet “I know you are trying to get out of here early, but Micah sat two more at the bar, they said they just want some coffee.”  Violet sighed and rubbed her temples. “Thanks Jenny. I’ll take care of them.” Violet grabbed her phone and looked at the time. If these two people wanted coffee and finished in thirty minutes Violet would still have time to race to the airport. Approaching the two patrons from behind the bar Violet stopped in her tracks at the sight of the two men. A chill had run through her body, the last time she was alone with someone from the opposite sex, it was four guys who she had thought were her friends. It was one of the reasons she moved to Boston. “Are yer okay?” one of the men asked. Violet shook her head and put on a smile. “Yes, sorry about that, getting lost in my thoughts. Two coffees is that correct?” The men nodded. Violet placed saucers and cups on the bar and grabbed the coffee canister. “Let me know when.” Violet said. Pouring into the first cup in front of the gentleman with light brown hair, he signaled for Violet to stop halfway through. Moving to the other cup in front of the other gentleman with darker hair, Violet noticed matching neck tattoos. The second gentleman signaled for Violet to stop when the cup was nearly full to the top. The second gentleman threw packets of sugar at the first man. “You got any creamer?” The first man asked. “You and your fucking creamer.” “Just shut up, wouldn’t want the lass here to think we can’t behave ourselves” the first man replied. “I’ll be right back with some creamer.” Violet said as she disappeared into the back.

Before she grabbed the assortment of creamers from the cooler, Violet pulled out her phone. A text from her brother popped up on the screen: “My connecting flight is early so I will be there sooner than expected. Just text me your work address and I’ll get a ride there. We can eat and go from there. Cannot wait to my baby sis!!”  Violet felt like her planning was all for not, but it would help to eat at her job with a discount and she could pick up a couple extra hours if it came down to it. “11947 Huron Ave. the restaurant is called Pepper’s Gulch, just come sit at the bar when you get here. I’m so excited to see you!”  Violet tucked her phone away and returned to the men having their coffee. Placing the creamers in front of the first gentleman Violet couldn’t help but also notice the tattoos on their hands. “So, what is with the Truth and Justice tattoos?” Violet inquired. The men both whipped their heads up at Violet. “You speak Latin?” the man with dark hair asked. “Fluently, I learned it when I went to school.” Violet responded. “You never answered my question.” Violet finally said. The first gentleman flashed his hand. “Tis a long story, but they represent our values. I want the truth, and Murph here seeks out justice.”  Violet let out a giggle. “Is your name Murph or just short for something else?” “Murphy MacManus and this is my brother Conner.” The man with dark hair said. “Nice to meet you Murphy and you too Conner.” Violet said shaking each brother’s hand. “Violet!” A voice rang through the empty restaurant. “Sorry guys, I’ll be right back.” Violet said as she rushed toward the front of the establishment. “Yes Micah?”  “I need you to close tonight, you can go home and rest after these guys finish up, okay?” the manager said. “I actually have plans tonight. Remember, I put in time off because my brother is coming into town?” Violet replied. “Yeah, about that, I’ll have to cancel it so you can close.” Micah said. “Oh, well I’m sure we can tell Mel and have her cancel it?” Violet said coyly. “Uh well, uh.” Micah stuttered. “Nope that’s fine, I will have someone else fill in tonight, no need to tell Mel.” Micah said walking away.

Violet smiled and turned on her heel back to the brothers. “What are ya smilin’ for? Was that your boyfriend?” Murphy asked. “No just the asshole manager, who I’m sure is trying to make my life hell for not taking him up on his offer to go on a date with him.” Violet replied as she grabbed a bowl of fruit from the mini fridge behind the bar. “Is it because you already have a boyfriend?” Connor asked. Violet laughed. “No, I don’t have a boyfriend. I’m more focused on my studies at the moment.” “And what is it that yer studying?” Conner asked. “I have been selected as part of an internship for the upcoming summer at Harvard law school.” Violet responded as she gathered a cutting board and small knife. “Ah a lawyer. Well, isn’t that exciting, so are you going to wear fancy suit and defend bad guys?”  Connor furthered. “What? Like the mafia! No, they are the reason I am studying to become a lawyer.” Violet said angerly. “I’m sorry, no I want to defend the people who are victims to people like the mafia, I want their family to get justice.” Violet said quietly. “I meant no harm by it lass. Just asking, most the people who are lawyers in this town are in the pockets of the mafioso.” Connor said. The rest of the time was spent with Violet cutting up fruit for the bar and the brothers joking back and forth. “What do we owe ya for the coffee?” Murphy asked as he was pulling out his wallet. “Oh nothing, I loved listening to you to talk about your day and joking around.” Violet said. “At least let us tip you!” Connor added. The brothers both laid down five dollars each. “Before you go, I have to know who the older brother is?” Violet inquired. The brothers smiled at each other then at Violet. “Who do you think is the older one?” Connor asked. “Hmm, well, I would go off the coffee, but based on the conversation I would say Murphy.” Violet said pointing to Murphy. “Am I right?” Murphy just smirked at his brother. Connor just glared. “Actually,” Connor started “We’re twins, and we don’t know who the older one is, our mother won’t ever tell us.” Connor finished. “But ya did boost my ego, thank you for that lass.” Murphy exclaimed. The brothers left the restaurant shoving one another and laughing.

#boondock saints #murphy macmanus #connor macmanus #murphy x oc #fanfic

[minervadashwood]

Writing an Irish accent.

I was researching this for Reasons, and thought I should share it.

===

Murphy Support Group

@green-eyedladywrites @livingdeadblondequeen @darylspissslit @phoenixblack89 @littlegodzilla

#boondock saints #fanfiction #boondock saints fanfic #murphy macmanus #connor macmanus

[stellar-waves]

staring down the sun

. . .

a boondock saints story // connor + female oc

Real men hide their feelings, at least that’s what Connor and Murphy believed in order to survive. Until Elena Jensen helps them open up through therapy before they escape prison and go back to work as the Saints. The boys learn Elena has some secrets of her own as they uncover a network of powerful crime organizations. But when a spark grows between Connor and Elena, so does the threat to the greater good.

. . .

A/N: This is shamefully my first time ever writing in this fandom, despite having loved the movie and crushing hard on Connor way back when I first rented the DVD from Blockbuster. Thank you to everyone who might be reading this crazy thing I just had to get out of my head. I really appreciate it. 💗

All artwork is original and made specifically for this story. Chapters will be updated periodically to include accompanying artwork. Started out with a kiss (how did it end up like this) and then I ran from there.

. . .

warnings: explicit language, canon-typical violence, suggestive sexual themes (no smut here), mentions of past sexual assault, mentions of death and grief/mourning, suggestion of suicidal ideation, injury

. . .

[ * includes illustrated moment ]

[1] how could you realize? *

[2] memories are just where you laid them *

[3] you were wrong, you were right

[4] two dimes in the telephone *

[5] like something's gonna give *

[6] beg for the rest of my life

[7] look at my eyes *

[8] and by morning we'll be free *

[9] but the shadows still remain

[10] the saints are coming

[11] navigate the darkness

[12] god's grace lost and the devil is proud

[13] turn my bones to sand *

[14] silent rage now that fills my lungs

[15] standing here until you make me move *

[16] taste like a summer day

[17] truth or consequence, say it aloud *

[18] use that evidence, race it around *

[19] let me be clever *

[20] hanging by a moment *

[21] got my veins all tangled closed

[22] you can never look back

[23] somehow here is gone *

[24] all the words to what's unspoken

[25] take me to sunrise from indigo *

[26] a long night, open, knowing *

[27] back into the arms that care *

[28] headlights on the hillside *

[29] swallow your pride and drown *

[30] but i wanted to stay *

. . .

#boondock saints fanfic #connor macmanus x oc #the boondock saints #boondock saints #connor macmanus #murphy macmanus #fanfic #fanart #illustrated moments #staring down the sun

[livingdeadblondequeen]

Hi there, I was just wondering if you were still writing? if you are, what are you writing?

Hello!

Yes, I am still writing. I am just slower than a turtle walking through peanut butter. I have a handful of WIPs, mostly Daryl/Reader but I am attempting to write a Boondock Saints fic with Murphy/Connor/Reader that was requested by an anon.

Hopefully, I can post these sometime soon.

#daryl dixon x reader #boondock saints fanfic #connor macmanus #murphy macmanus

[somedaylazysomeday]

Fanfic February 2023 - Week Four

We've made it, friends! This is the final round-up of fics from the last week of Fanfic February 2023.

22. Arm Candy (Part Three) - third part to my ongoing Negan x fem!reader story. A Walking Dead fic.

23. Winner Take All (Part One) - Nathan Bateman x fem!reader story. An Ex Machina fic.

24. Winner Take All (Part Two) - second part to the Nathan Bateman x fem!reader story. An Ex Machina fic.

25. Matter of Perspective (Part One) - Horacio Carrillo x fem!reader story. A Narcos fic.

26. Matter of Perspective (Part Two) - Horacio Carrillo x fem!reader story. A Narcos fic.

27. Na Buachaillí (Part One) - Murphy MacManus x fem!reader story. A Boondock Saints fic.

28. Na Buachaillí (Part Two) - Connor MacManus x fem!reader story. A continuation of my Boondock Saints fic.

Quick reminder that all of these fics are explicit and not suitable for minors!

Thank you to those who have followed along with this year's Fanfic February! Your reblogs and words of encouragement have meant the world. Feel free to ask questions or let me know if there were any stories you'd be interested in seeing more of!

#fanfic february 2023 #fanfic february #fanficfebruary #the walking dead #twd negan #negan #ex machina #ex machina (2015) #nathan bateman #narcos #narcos netflix #horacio carrillo #colonel horacio carrillo #the boondock saints #murphy macmanus #connor macmanus