#Murtriona

[the-al-chemist]

@hphm-ship-week - Quidditch

I could have written something about Quidditch. But, let’s be honest, the best HPHM Quidditch ship writing has already been done.

I’m referring, of course, to @kc-and-co’s Coffee and Commentary and @lifeofkaze’s An Art of Balance. Here are some little edits for these stories.

'Cause we were born to be the pawn

In every lover's game

If you fail to plan, you plan to fail

Strategy sets the scene for the tale

Mastermind • Taylor Swift

Look at the stars

Look how they shine for you

And everything you do

Yeah, they were all yellow

Yellow • Coldplay

[lifeofkaze]

Black Velvet

Murphy McNully x Katriona Cassiopeia

A/N: Good things come to those who wait, right? 😅 Haha, kidding, not gonna lie, I'm a little ashamed that it took me almost (for actually?) half a year to come through with my promised Murtriona smut in exchange for the last smut piece my wonderful wifey put together for me. But if I promise something I come through with it, even if it might take a while. So, @kc-and-oc here you go, enjoy 💛💙 Katriona Cassiopeia and the anniversary headcanons obviously belong to @kc-and-oc

Warning: PURE AND FITHLY SMUT (with a hint of fluff but shhhh). If you're under 18 or do not feel comfortable with smut, DO NOT READ. All featured characters are of age and consenting.

As far as Murphy was concerned, the day couldn’t have started better.

His wife Katriona and he had arrived in Italy just in time to witness the beautiful sunrise over the Amalfi coast.

The sea air in Italy smelled different than it did back home, Murphy thought to herself as they sipped on an espresso as black as the night on the huge balcony of the chalet KC had booked for their weekend getaway to celebrate their wedding anniversary.

It smelled like warm sand, sunlight, good food and wine, and an undisturbed few days with the love of his life.

They spent the day mostly outside, exploring the little Italian fishing village with its romantic, winding streets, only returning home when the sun had already begun sinking below the horizon.

Murphy had been enjoying his day, having caught maybe just a little too much wine and sun; he felt deliciously exhausted, but he was looking forward to giving KC her anniversary gift.

Each year they tried trumping each other in finding the most hilarious gift for the other, and this year, Murphy was quite confident in his choice - a gigantic coffee mug in the shape of his favourite chess piece, the white queen.

Somehow, KC didn’t seem to share his good mood anymore, however; attentive as always, Murphy hadn’t failed to notice that she had gone more and more quiet as the evening drew on. She was looking out over the waves beneath their balcony, turning the thin stem of her wine glass between her fingers.

“Your rate of words per minute has been steadily decreasing since we came back, my love,” Murphy said softly and leaned forward to take her hand into his. “Do you want to tell me what’s bothering you?”

KC tore her eyes away from the sea and a fleeting smile flickered over her face.

“It’s nothing,” she said, emptied her glass and stood up.

“Come inside,” she smiled and walked past Murphy, running her hand over his shoulder as she passed him, “I have a surprise for you.”

She led Murphy into the bathroom and turned on the taps on the big copper bathtub.

“Why don’t you go have a bath?” she said and kissed Murphy’s cheek. “The day has been exhausting, and I want you to relax.”

She turned from him, but Murphy caught her wrist and pulled her into his lap.

“I know a perfect way to relax,” he smirked and kissed his wife, drinking in the smell of sunlight on her skin and the taste of white wine on her lips.

But to his surprise, KC gently pushed him away and stood up again.

“Go and have your bath,” she said and walked out of the bathroom door, looking at him over her shoulder. “You’ll get your surprise afterwards.”

Confused by her rejection, Murphy pushed himself out of his wheelchair and into the scalding hot water. He hadn’t wanted to admit it, but the heat worked wonders on the tense muscles in his arms and shoulders.

KC must have known how exhausting a full day of exploring would be for him, and Murphy smiled to himself as he sank deeper into the fragrant water; she always knew what he needed.

When Murphy returned to their bedroom, the sun had almost gone down, plunging the room into twilight.

KC had shut the curtains except for the ones in front of the winged doors leading onto the balcony; the last rays of sun were shining in her back, turning her red hair into a mane of molten fire.

She was leaning against the doorframe facing him, wearing nothing but a silk robe and long, black velvet gloves; the sight took Murphy’s breath away.

“I like this surprise already,” he chuckled, his voice deep in his throat.

He pushed his wheelchair over to the window to draw his wife into his lap again, but she quickly sidestepped him, and laid a gentle hand onto his cheek.

She leaned in and kissed him, quick, but full of passion and promise; when she pulled away, Murphy’s head was spinning.

“Enjoy the show,” she whispered, before stepping out of his reach.

She closed the curtains with a quick motion, leaving only the flickering life of the candles she’d lit to illuminate the room. At the same moment, seemingly out of nowhere, a slow, compelling melody began to play.

Murphy’s eyes widened as KC slowly started moving to the music, her hands travelling up and down her silk robe at a painfully languid pace.

Her gaze was cast to the ground at first, as if she was gathering her courage, but when more and more instruments added to the melody, she raised her eyes and locked them with Murphy’s; the look in them was intense, enticing, and Murphy found the collar of his shirt suddenly too tight.

KC’s hands wandered up her bare thighs, slightly lifting the hem of her robe, and Murphy couldn’t avert his eyes. She reached for the knot keeping her silk robe together and very slowly pulled it open.

When the silk fell down from her pale shoulders, Murphy’s breath caught in his throat.

KC was wearing a stunning set of sapphire lingerie, one he’d never seen before. It hugged and accentuated her curves just right, and was the exact shade of blue of her eyes, which gleamed in the soft light of the candles.

She slowly walked over to him, her silk robe puddling all forgotten on the floor, but Murphy couldn’t care less. The bronze heels she was wearing elongated the legs Murphy loved so much, and were clicking on the stone floor in time with the beat of the music.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her, neither from the small heart-shaped scar on her thigh he’d kissed so often - but never often enough - nor from her swaying hips that made Murphy swallow in anticipation.

KC walked around him, her hand travelling along his shoulders, the ends of her hair brushing against the bare skin of his arms and neck.

The music had increased in pace, the singer’s voice dark and husky in Murphy’s ears, and KC stood in front of him again. She brought one of her gloved hands to her mouth and caught the black velvet on her middle finger with her teeth.

She pulled the glove off very slowly, her eyes fixed on Murphy. She leaned forward, loping the velvet glove around the back of his neck; it felt warm and soft on his skin, and Murphy shuddered as KC pulled on it slightly to draw him in, a direction he was only too eager to follow.

He could smell her perfume and feel her breath on his lips, but before Murphy had the chance to kiss her, the music did a sudden turn, and so did KC.

She turned around in time with the music, the heels over her shoes gliding over the floor. She buried her hands in her flaming red curls and raised her arms, giving Murphy a perfect view of her backside.

The way she moved her hips left and right in fluent motions was almost too much for Murphy to bear, and when she bent forward, shooting a cheeky glance over her shoulder, he couldn’t resist any longer.

He laid his hands on her perfectly rounded hips and turned her around, pulling her into his lap. Her skin felt hot to the touch, like the fire of her hair was running through her veins as well, and when he kissed her this time, KC straddled him and kissed him back.

Her tongue brushed over his lips and Murphy opened them for her willingly, all of his senses completely intoxicated by her. He could feel the same passion and hunger in her kiss that was raging inside his own chest, but when he reached to undo the clasp of her elaborate bra, she clapped his hand away.

The music was still playing, and KC didn’t speak a single word, but she didn’t have to. The gleam in her eyes and the seductive smirk on her lips spoke volumes as she kissed Murphy a second time while climbing off his lap.

She kneeled down in front of him, and gently pushed his knees apart. She undid the buckle of his belt with nimble fingers, and Murphy shuddered when she ran her hand over him beneath the fabric of his trousers.

Murphy’s breath hitched and his head fell into his neck when she pulled down his clothes and took him into her mouth. She ran her tongue teasingly along his length, drawing patterns and circles as she moved her head.

Murphy buried his hands in her hair, but she knew exactly what kind of rhythm he preferred without him having to tell her. She looked up at him and they locked eyes, blue on grey, and the sparkle in them was enough to drive Murphy insane.

KC slowed, sensing that Murphy was close to losing control. Giving his tip one last flick of her tongue that made him inhale sharply, she let go of him.

Murphy reached out and cupped her cheek with his hand, running this thumb over her lips.

“I want you,” he said with a hoarse voice, “right now.”

With a smile, KC pushed to her feet and walked over to the sofa on the other side of the room. She shrugged off her bra and pants on her way, discarding them casually. Murphy couldn’t have cared less for the intricate lace landing in some forgotten place; he only had eyes for the perfect silhouette of his wife.

Katriona draped herself on the sofa in a way that looked too enticing to be even allowed, and Murphy took his time to admire every little detail of her, committing the picture to his infallible memory, so he would never forget how otherworldly beautiful she looked in his exact moment.

She ran her hand over the smooth skin of her stomach and up to her breasts in a lazy motion before extending her hand towards him and beckoning him closer with her finger.

“Do you want to sit and stare, or hold up to your promise?”

Not needing to be told twice, Murphy rolled his wheelchair over to her and pushed himself over onto the sofa next to her. KC’s hands were on him as soon as he was within her reach, unbuttoning his shirt and getting rid of everything that kept her from feeling his burning skin against hers.

Murphy laid on his back and pulled her on top of him. She straddled his hips all too gladly and when she bent down to kiss him, she gasped against his mouth as he ran his hands up her thighs, feeling how ready she was for him already.

She hummed against his lips as he began coaxing soft moans from her. When both of them weren’t able to wait a single moment longer, KC pushed his hand away and lowered herself on top of him.

She moved slowly at first, to the rhythm of the music. Murphy was tempted to close his eyes and lose himself in the feeling of her completely, but he found he couldn’t.

Her eyes had drawn him, put a spell on him, and burned himself too deeply into his heart and soul to look away, like they had for the first time so many years ago.

The feeling of KC’s hips grinding against his in this deliciously slow pace was new for both of them, but it brought a never before known intensity with him that made Murphy hold his breath. It was as if every second was drawn out, every single thing he felt intensified tenfold.

He had stopped listening to the slow music a long time ago, his mind too busy with focusing on the sight of KC moving on top of him, her red hair spilling over her shoulder. They were making their own music, they always had, and nothing sounded as beautiful to Murphy’s ears.

Murphy could feel his release coming, it wouldn’t take much more for him to get there, but he forced himself to breathe deeply, ignoring the tension building up inside his stomach with every thrust, every passing second.

KC wasn’t looking at him anymore; she had picked up in pace now, falling into a more familiar rhythm. Her head was dipped back into her neck, and her eyes were closed, her lips parted ever so slightly.

She was completely lost in the feeling of Murphy against her, his hands on her hips, her thighs, her back, her breasts, everywhere she could feel the touch of his strong hands.

With a gasp, she leaned forward abruptly as her high rolled over her, burying her face against Murphy’s neck. Her soft hair brushed over his chest, a stark contrast to the stinging in his arms where her nails dug into his skin.

The unexpected shift in her angle, along with the feeling of her tightening around her was too much for Murphy to control anymore. He wrapped her arms around her back, not sure who the racing heartbeat he felt belonged to, KC or himself.

He kissed her passionately as he came undone beneath her, riding his high for as long as he could. When he felt the tingling in his whole body subside and his heart had stopped racing, Murphy loosened his arms around KC, and smiled as she gently kissed him a last time.

“Now that’s what I call an anniversary gift,” he chuckled and brushed one of the curls that stuck to her forehead out of her face. “I’m afraid my gift to you won’t be able to compare. I stuck to the funny theme.”

KC laughed softly and climbed off him, wrapping herself into her silk robe again.

“Don’t worry,” she purred and ran her finger down the middle of Murphy’s chest. “You’ll find your gift hilarious. This here was extra.”

[ardent-musings]

Sleazeballs and Submission

Murphy McNully Smut

Warning: NSFW 18+, this is revenge for @kc-needs-coffee making me feel feelings. How absolutely dare ye. It’s pure filth folks. 

You were livid. Absolutely fuming at the report’s inconsiderate assumptions about you and Murphy; although you did your best to hold in your sneers and glares from the rest of the guests at the “Kestrals for Kids” Gala. Of course, you understood that you had a sizeable reputation when it came to the world of Quidditch. That was to be expected. And yet the fact that the reporter saw you as eye candy for your former teammate made you sick to your stomach. But none of that even compared to the way he so flippantly condescended Murphy on his big night.

Yes, Murphy was in a wheelchair. Anyone with relatively good eyesight could notice that. To you, it felt like that was the only thing the reporter noticed about the man that you loved. The man who made so many sacrifices so you could live out your dream post –Hogwarts. The man who spent nights out with your dad just because they felt like it. The man that loved you to the moon and back. After hearing the reporters vitriol take on your husband made you not even angry. It was more than that. It was pure fury that settled within your chest.

But for now, those feelings had to wait. You stood off to the side of the large room after vacating the terrace with Dougan who quickly left you at the promise of another scotch. That was fine by you though. You only had eyes for Murphy.

He was currently with the little kids at the event, grinning happily as they sat with him for rounds and rounds of pictures, being blinded every time the flash went off. It was nice to see him so comfortable. So in his element and so wonderfully himself.

After an hour had passed and most of the guests had left the busy event, you decided to take some time to yourself out on the terrace. The night breeze was helping cool you skin, but the anger that festered started to build again as you stared at the spot where reporter had taken your picture not too long ago. Your painted fingertips tapped on the side of your champagne glass, hoping the smooth bubbly drink would do something to calm you. It did nothing.

“Hello, Rising Star. Care for some company?”

You turned to see that Murphy had joined you, taking a moment to look out the glass barrier to admire the lush landscape before turning his sparkling grey eyes towards you. Even in the shadows they were bright. He was warm and cheerful, and regardless of how upset you were, you didn’t want to ruin his already good mood.

“I always want your company, Murph,” you hummed, taking another sip of your drink even though you knew it wasn’t giving you the effect you wanted.

“Did you have a good night?”

His question, though innocent and well intentioned, reminded you of how the beginning of your evening played out. The reporter’s dumb questions, his gross stinky cigars, and the scathing comments about Murphy resurfaced. Before you could hide it, your glare on Murphy intensified, trying your hardest drink in the image of the man you cared so deeply for.

Instead of answering him, you busied your body by waltzing behind him, your gold stiletto heels clicking against the stone floor with every step. He craned his neck back, trying to follow your path, but he let out a surprised groan once you gently gripped his neck from behind and kissed the side of it, focusing on his beating pulse. You couldn’t help but squeeze a bit, enjoying how Murphy’s breath hitched at the pinch of your manicured grip.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what’s going on?” His face curled in a satisfied smirk.

“I just need you,” you admitted softly, your hot breath tickling his ear, making him stiffen in his chair. Before, at the beginning of the night when decorum was important, you worried about leaving lipstick traces on his skin. But not now. Right now, you just had to prove to him how much he meant to you.

He growled lowly as you tugged on his hair, enjoying the way your nails scrapped and messed up his perfectly styled hair while you nibbled along his neck. Murphy was reeling in the attention, surprised when you tilted his head back and brought the champagne flute up to his lips to give him a taste of your drink. After swallowing the liquor, his eyes grew dark, eating up the image of you in your golden dress as you circled around to face him like a hungry vulture. Your getup had a deep neckline, and he licked his lips as you leaned in to kiss him properly. You wore that style of dress specifically to toy with Murphy’s desire for your chest, and he knew it.

“Call me selfish, but I don’t want anyone else to ever touch you.”

You left his kiss and slowly lowered yourself to your knees in front of him. His eyes bulged at the promise you were presenting as you flipped your scarlet hair over your shoulder.

“I’d suggest locking the door, big guy,” you chuckled as you started to run your hands over his knees and up his thighs teasingly. Without a second of hesitation, he pulled out his wand and muttered a spell in the direction of the French doors that separated you two from the stragglers at the event.

With a wicked grin, you started to unbuckle his belt, finding it comical how he was gripping the handles of his seat with such strength and for a moment you wished his hands were tangled in your hair like that. Usually, you would just pull down his pants as far as you had to; however, the report’s judgement on your husband’s body echoed in your ear.

He saw Murphy as undesirable, which to you was the most outlandish idea. But even Murphy had his insecurities some days. Tonight was about making him feel sexy. Making him feel worthy. Making him feel irresistible.  

You pulled down Murphy’s pants further down his firm thighs, finding the shiny white and even the abrasive red scars on his leg beautiful. They made up Murphy; every tiny line weaved into the smoothness of his surrounding skin: a mixture of soft and rough. You wanted to appreciate all of him. So you slowly kissed the lines that littered his leg, alternating between biting the skin at his knee and then grazing the tip of your tongue along his thigh like his skin was a map for you to travel.

Once you made eye contact with Murphy, you saw his grey eyes softer than they were just seconds earlier. His brows were furrowed at the middle, confused by your subtle worship of his scars. But you loved this. Seeing him all vulnerable before you. His smart mouth was something you adored and yet his lips frowned as you continued your gentle ministrations on his leg.

You sat up high on your knees, gripping his waist beneath his dress shirt and placed a kiss over the wet spot on his briefs. His hips bucked at the feeling, finally reaching down to stroke your cheek in appreciation. He loved how you look nuzzling into his clothed cock while on your knees.

“Wanna make you feel good,” you babbled mindlessly, your thoughts clouded with the vision of your mouth on Murphy. “Please.”

Murphy nearly melted at the desperation in your voice. You usually got like this after he got you off a few times; however it was strange to see you pout at the mere thought of doing anything to him. With the hand that still hovered over your cheek, he pulled you in for a kiss. It wasn’t forceful, just compacted with all the insatiable feelings you too felt for each other. Kissing him was one of your favorite things to do; although Murphy’s need for you on him was becoming apparent as he sighed into your mouth.

“Does my darling girl wanna taste?” His jaw clenched as he looked down at your pleading form, pulling down your bottom lip with his thumb. All you could do was nod enthusiastically, already overcome by your neediness.

The ache in your knees was growing, but you had yet to fulfill your plan, so with a cheeky wink, you pulled down his briefs and grazed your tongue from the base to the tip of his cock in one long lick. Murphy grinned at the feeling, running his hands through his hair at your teasing tongue. His view was something straight out of a fantasy: your hands and deep red lips were working on him with such fervor, your copper hair was in his grip and from this angle he could tell that you weren’t wearing a bra beneath your slinky dress. It was overwhelming and yet he wouldn’t dare turn away from his beautiful girl on her knees.

All he could do was slump further into his chair as you gripped him in your hand, pumping him perfectly as you went back to kissing his scars. He had never had anyone give his body so much attention, especially the parts of him people would usually turn away from. And yet, there you were, marveling at every curve, scar, and dip of his body. You surprised him every time you did it, and every time he thanked whatever holy power there was for putting you in his life.

He was relieved that he locked the door behind him but with the way your lipstick was leaving marks on him, Murphy regretted not placing a silencing charm around you two as well. His breathing grew more labored as you took him back into your mouth, hollowing around him. Murphy couldn’t help but let out a weak chuckle at the whole situation, growing overwhelmed by the way you tightened your grip.

Before he could get off, you pulled away from him which made the man above you groan in frustration. But you didn’t leave him waiting long.

“You don’t have to be gentle with me, I don’t break easily,” you reminded him as you continued to pump him in your hands, digging your nails onto his leg to steady yourself.

“No you don’t, my little beater. Strongest girl I know, you can take it.”

He chuckled darkly at you, gripping your hair a bit tighter, growing more desperate for his release. Murphy’s hips were now unrelenting; thrusting up quickly only to grunt as you coughed around him. But you didn’t care. You rejoiced in the way he was using you, because deep down, you knew that he would only ever choose you. This was your way of reminding him that you picked him as well.

The tears on your face trickled down your flushed cheeks, your efforts working in overdrive to prove yourself to Murphy, touching him in every way you knew he loved. You hummed around him as he lifted his arms behind his head to grip at his seat, meanwhile his hips jutted up from his chair as best he could. Harsher grunts were ripped from his chest, unable to keep quiet as you started scratching the inside of his taut thighs. Your name and filthy swears tumbled from his lips, biting down on them as he was nearing his high.

“C’mon, darling. Fuck, you’re too goddamn good,” was all he could mutter as you hollowed around him, your eyes meeting his as you giggled around him.

With a final grunt, Murphy released down your throat, his clothed chest heaving as the cool summer breeze made him realize just how warm he grew under your touch. He chuckled, hips still bucking as you kitten licked every drop he offered you. Your knees were wobbling from being pressed against the stone floor for so long, but you couldn’t care less.

Murphy rolled his eyes at you, growing overstimulated as you dragged your nails along the inside of his thigh leaving light scratches in their wake. He growled at your teasing, biting the inside of his cheek as he gripped your jaw firmly, beckoning you to rise from your position and onto his lap.

His hold on your chin was strong and you couldn’t turn away from his gaze even if you tried. His gray eyes were wild with desire for you and your heart started racing from his intensity. Your face tickled from the huffs of labored breaths he was still releasing as he came down from his high. Murphy was not only staring at you like he wanted you, he looked at you like he owned you.

“How long have you been devising this little plan, sweetheart?” His words were sweet, but his tone was pure filth.

“Since cocktail hour,” you admitted breathlessly, his fingers trailed from your chin to rest at the base of your neck, holding you like a collar would.

“Since cocktail hour,” he mocked, tipping his head to the side and laughing in your face. Not in a mean way; Murphy would never be cruel towards you. He chuckled deeply at your response because he knew that your mind must’ve been reeling with the thought of him for hours as he went on and worked the night. “So then tell me, love…”

You gasped loudly at the sudden feeling of Murphy reaching underneath your lavish dress to circle your clit with a firm thumb.

“Aw, I was right, darling. You’re dripping. And I didn’t even have to do anything.”

His face twisted in a self-assured grin, one that you loved to see him wear. That meant he was feeling confident, which he should feel all the time. He was everything you could ever want.

Soon enough, his talented fingers started pumping into you as his thumb continued to toy with your body, drawing whiny moans from you with every thrust. His other hand was tangled in your hair, making sure you kept his eyes on him at all times.

“Better keep quiet. There’s no silencing spell in place and beyond those doors are some very influential people. Wouldn’t want them to see my pretty girl getting finger fucked now would we?”

Your eyes rolled back at his comment. Being caught wasn’t your game plan, but the idea of everyone knowing that Murphy owned your body so well is an intoxicating thought.

“Or maybe you do want that?” He hummed against your mouth, kissing every whimper you released against his lips. “Does my baby want everyone to know who gets to play with you? Want everyone to know how good I make you feel?”

Your release was so close, and Murphy’s clenched jaw and teasing words was bringing you to the edge. His fingers were relentlessly working your every nerve in the best way possible, making you clench around him. Until there was nothing left to squeeze.

Murphy pulled his hand away from you, making you buck against his lap which only made your gorgeous husband laugh softly.

“You don’t get to cum, darling,” he began licking your sweetness off his fingers as he stared into your stunning and blown out eyes. “Not until I say so. Do you understand?”

Beneath the thin layer of your dress was the rapid rise and fall of your chest, which Murphy took no steps to hide his gaze on your breasts. His face was no longer as stern as before, he was looking up at you with an amused expression, enjoying how your body had slumped against his from your pleasure.

His nose trailed up the side of your neck, getting lost in your perfume as he kissed the shell of your ear.

“Do you understand?” he groaned.

Wordlessly, you nodded slowly. The feeling of your delayed high made you delirious; you would agree to anything Murphy said if that meant he would eventually touch you again. He pulled you in by the back of your neck and placed a kiss over your hazy eyelids, down your nose. His lips trailed across your cheek and then your jaw until they finally landed on your lips. He tasted like your champagne and for the first time in the night you finally felt drunk off of something.

“I love you, you filthy thing,” he chuckled which made you hide your face in his neck, groaning in annoyance from his teasing. “Up, darling.”

You stood up from his lap with weak legs as he fixed his clothes, trying his hardest to look relatively normal. His fingers raked through his hair to calm the golden strands, but since the event was practically over, Murphy didn’t care that much. With a flick of his wand, the French doors which were once magically sealed shut unlocked in a second.

The distance between the terrace and the Ministry issued car was far too long, growing worse every time Murphy was halted by a remaining guest who wished to speak with him. You stood proudly beside your husband as he worked his charm, you would’ve enjoyed the moment but instead you had to clench your thighs to fight off the desire your body was still demanding. Fake smiles painted your face even though you wanted to be sincere. It just wasn’t happening at the moment.

After a few stops and curious questions, you and Murphy finally reached the black government car that was waiting to take you back to your flat. Thirty minutes. You just had to endure another thirty minutes.

Except that wasn’t what Murphy had planned. As soon as you two were settled in the car and his chair was secured in the back, he closed the partition, put up a silencing spell and immediately began toying with your clit yet again. It wasn’t what you needed and Murphy knew that, too. He wasn’t touching you to make you feel good, he was touching you because he could, and you loved it.

Thirty minutes. You endured thirty torturous minutes of gentle grazes against your clit that did nothing to silence the ache you felt for him. The whole time he whispered filthy compliments to you as you tried your hardest to sit still and look inconspicuous until you reached the flat.

Thankfully, once you reached your destination, you were able to regain some of your sense. The driver assisted with getting Murphy’s chair, although your husband quickly yet kindly dismissed any further help. He didn’t need it.

The moment you two entered the threshold of your flat, Murphy lifted himself onto the soft cotton sheets of your bed. He ripped off his shirt so his wide shoulders were fully exposed to you and your nails instinctively dug into the taut muscle. His grip on your hips was almost painful, but you craved Murphy, in anyway he’d take you.

You yelped as he picked you up over his shoulder and slammed your body down on the bed. He chuckled lowly at your reaction, but soon enough his movements proved to be just as desperate as you felt. He pulled the neckline of your dress to the side to release one of your breasts. The sudden exposure to the cold night air made you gasp, but it was Murphy’s sucking on your nipple that made you yell and grind against his thigh.

“I’ve gotta have you, my love. God, I can’t fucking wait,” he groaned as he lifted the skirt of your sparkly dress over your hips, relishing in just how wet you still were.

He held himself up with one arm as you undid his belt and made quick work of his pants and underwear, lining himself up with you.

“Hands up,” he instructed. As soon as you lifted both your hands up over your head, he captured your wrists in a single hand. You gasped at the feeling of being so powerless beneath him but it was everything you wanted and more.

“I love you,” he moaned more so to himself as he pushed himself fully into you, his head dipped onto your chest at the feeling of you squeezing him. Instinctively, your legs raised to hook around his waist, encouraging him to rock into you harder. He stretched you so good and you couldn’t help but whine as he pumped into you slowly but entirely, every inch of him was accepted by your greedy body.

Murphy marveled at you beneath him, mesmerized by the bounce of your tits every time he thrusted into you, but god your little cries were the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard. You bit down hard on your lower lip, unable to control an ounce of the situation, but you didn’t have to. Murphy knew your body better than anyone.

Your back arched uncomfortably as his pelvis grinded against your clit with every snap of his hips. You were already so sensitive but soon enough he was ravenously pounding you into the mattress.  

“Please, please, baby,” you cried against his neck before biting down on the point where his shoulder met his collarbone.

“Go on, darling. You deserve it. Cum for me.”

Without another word, Murphy laced his fingers with yours as you came hard around him, your whole body thrashed beneath him. It was almost too much to handle, but Murphy was chasing his own high. After a few more thrusts and a cry of your name, he finished, fully dropping his sweaty body against yours.

You were fucked beyond comprehension, the slick gold dress was barely hanging on you anymore and your hair was a wild mess as it fanned out behind you. But you didn’t care.

“I love you.”

Murphy sighed happily at your declaration, memorizing every line of your, now, calm and thoroughly loved body. He loved looking at you after making love to you, no matter how rough or romantic. The sight of you was too beautiful to pass up.

“Wanna take a nap, my love? We can talk afterwards, yeah?”

At the sound of sleep, you nodded tiredly. Still semi covered in your golden dress, you slipped underneath the comforting sheets of your bed. Murphy followed you after covering himself up with his discarded underwear and his crisp business shirt. They weren’t the most practical outfits for sleeping, but as soon as your head hit the pillow, you succumbed to your exhaustion.

Murphy’s strong body pulled yours to him, leaving a whisper of kisses over your exposed shoulder. He uttered a final word before he too fell asleep.

“Mine.”

[lifeofkaze]

@kc-and-co I want to see Murtriona challenging Death to a match of chess, badly

“Chess? I’ve been around since before humans invented the concept of games, so a game as old as chess would be be in my favour without a doubt. I would advice you to choose again, and pick something you’re familiar with.” Death said as they presented every board and video game ever created.

[the-al-chemist]

Let there be light, sound, drums, guitar

Oh, let there be rock!

Let There Be Rock - AC/DC

KC belongs to @kc-needs-coffee

[that-scouse-wizard]

💛

Katriona Cassiopeia!

I love her and her relationship with Murphy (and David too but let's face it, Murtriona is the OTP). How she grows and develops, seeing all of the emotions she experiences throughout her Hogwarts years just makes it so easy to relate to her on some level.

Defiance in the face of a death eater family member is always a plus too. Plus, her ability to turn a place that she held no love for into one where kids could learn about quidditch in a safe environment is such an interesting and unique end goal for a character to have.

Also this girl's love for coffee? Iconic.

[lifeofkaze]

@kc-and-co idk what you mean. Murtriona is canon.

Larian, this is already a crime. So many lovely and unreachable... - - - Who is your favorite? 🧡

[lifeofkaze]

October Writing Challenge - Day 17

The fabulous Katriona Cassiopeia belongs the my darling wifey @kc-and-oc

The bells above the door to the little café in a sidestreet of the sleepy town in southern Wales tingled when Lizzie opened it and stepped inside.

She looked around searchingly, until she saw the familiar figures of their friends Murphy and Katriona. They were already sitting at a table set for four people by one of the big windows overlooking the river.

Lizzie cursed under her breath and turned to Orion with a chagrined look. “I knew they would be here already.”

“No doubt,” Orion said unfazed and cocked an eyebrow at her. “Wrong turns can bring us to the most wondrous places, but in this case, they just made us late.”

Lizzie sighed and waved at her friends as Orion and she walked over to them. “The first time I’m allowed to come to your and KC’s sacred no-partners-allowed brunch, and we get lost on the way.”

Her sorrowful expression made way for a big smile when they reached the table. Lizzie quickly hugged KC and Murphy before sitting down beside the window.

The rain outside was still pouring down as strongly as it had the day before when the Montrose Magpies had played their first match against the Kenmare Kestrels of this year’s season; Lizzie swore she was still cold from it.

“What took you so long?” KC wanted to know while handing Lizzie and Orion the menus. “You are 17 minutes late.”

“If you want to put it that way,” Lizzie said evasively, “but isn’t time more of a loose concept anyway?”

“Just like directions?” Orion muttered next to her with a slight smirk, and Lizzie gave him a look.

“Just listen to you two girls,” Murphy grinned and looked between Katriona and Lizzie, “you almost sound like us. I’m proud of you.” He dramatically covered his heart with his hand. “And it’s actually only 16 minutes, my dear.”

KC furrowed her brow. “No, it’s not.”

“Well, look at my watch.”

“It must be wrong then.”

“It never is. Be fair,” Murphy said smugly, “the Kestrels caught, plugged, and roasted the Magpies yesterday. We can at least give them the extra minute.”

“Don’t remind me,” Lizzie said with a roll of her eyes, “the only good thing about this match is that it’s over.”

“So,” KC said and leaned back into her chair, “we didn’t get any chance to properly talk in ages. How’s my favourite goddaughter?”

“You mean the devil’s child?” Lizzie laughed. “She’s a right whirlwind. She won’t stop talking about the week she spent at your camp. That girl was born to fly.”

“The devil’s child, huh?” KC smirked. “I wonder who of you the devil is then.”

“I’ll let you be the judge of that.”

KC chuckled as her blue eyes flicked between Lizzie and Orion. “I have my ideas.”

When they had placed their orders, Lizzie leaned forward with an expectant look. “Alright now, spill the secret. What’s the occasion?”

“What do you mean?”

“Murphy and I have never been allowed to come to your special star twin brunch dates until today. There must be a reason, so out with it.”

Murphy and KC shared a look.

“You know the Halloween party we do every year for the parents and sponsor of the camp?” KC said.

“This year we wanted to do something new, something unexpected, something that will blow our guests out of the park and make the night unforgettable,” Murphy continued with an excited glint in his eyes. “We’re building two teams out of players from every club in the League for an exciting, never-before-seen, once-in-a-lifetime all-stars match.”

“A former team member of mine and I will stand in for the Catapults. And we would like to ask you to represent the Montrose Magpies, naturally,” KC smiled.

Lizzie’s eyes lit up. “Are you suggesting I trade a dress and heels for a jersey and boots? Why are you even asking?”

“Well, you would still need a dress for after the match,” KC conceded, “at least until we’ll end up broom jousting again.”

“I would like to see you broom jousting in an evening dress,” Orion muttered into the tea he was sipping, and Lizzie kicked him under the table, trying her utmost not to laugh.

“It’s a wonderful idea,” she beamed at her friends; Murphy had already pushed his plate aside to make room for a spreadsheet and added Lizzie’s and Orion’s names next to the crest of the Montrose Magpies.

“I have only one condition though,” Lizzie said, and both McNullys looked at her questioningly.

“What’s that?”

“We were always on opposing teams. First at school, and then I made the unfortunate decision not to follow you to the Catapults,” Lizzie smiled at KC. “I want to be safe from the most dangerous Bludgers I have ever seen at least once, so I need you on our team.”

KC laughed and clinked her coffee cup against Lizzie's. “The only team I’d ever want to be on.”

[ardent-musings]

I cant draw very well but I wanted to give a go at digitally illustrating two of my friend’s OC’s. So here’s Gwenllian Dora McNully and Amari Filius McNully! :)

@kc-needs-coffee (hopefully this will get my creative juices flowing)

[that-scouse-wizard]

I’d love to hear your FFWF thoughts on the friendship between Phoenix & Katriona ❤️💙

Of course, these fabulous beater babes deserve all the love! 💙❤

While I think Phoenix is a lot more extroverted than KC, I could easily see these two becoming good, loyal friends. 

Okay, so these two would definitely meet up for coffee and I can assure you, Phoenix will only take black coffee, no sugar or sweeteners for this girl.

Training sessions together because as competitive as Quidditch is, Phoenix’s real passion lies in duelling so she’d be glad to both give and receive pointers when it comes to either.

Imagine after practice in winter, Phoenix offers KC some coffee from a flask of it she has.

The two of them would absolutely discuss their crushes, she would be thrilled when Murtriona finally gets together.

If KC ever fancied rocking a new hairstyle, Phoenix would gladly braid her hair.

Imagine them meeting up with Erika and Judith just to shoot the shit and have a laugh, beater babe squad meet up! 

[lifeofkaze]

Look at these two being all cute and beautiful 🥺

No kidding, my jaw dropped when I saw this picture, this might be one of your best ones so far! It’s so stunning, does our favourite Beater and strategist honour 🙏🙊

[Andre] beamed as KC and Erika entered the hall, both wearing the costumes Andre had designed for them. Erika wore a gray fur-trimmed gown, a wolf mask, and a silver ceremonial sword on her hip, while KC looked radiant in black-speckled white brocade, a capelet that resembled a pair of white wings, and an owl mask.

Orion and Skye both couldn’t keep the broad grins off their faces seeing McNully flush as red as a tomato, his eyes widening to the size of dinner plates upon KC. Florence’s new ambassador cleared his throat loudly. 

“…Good evening, KC,” he greeted her, rolling his chair over.

“Hello, Murphy,” said KC with a shy smile.

Erika and Andre couldn’t help but smirk smugly too, seeing how rosy and happy KC’s face looked. McNully reached out a hand to take hers – once she’d given him her hand, he kissed it politely.

“May I…escort you inside?” he asked uncomfortably. “I realize I can’t hold your arm properly, since I’ll need to steer my chair, but – ”

“Yes,” said KC, almost too quickly. Catching herself, she said a bit more levelly, “…I’d like that.”

~HPHM/Cinderella AU, Part 18: Saving Orion

At last, we have ourselves a bonus piece of art I didn’t have ready for my original posting of this part of the Cinderella AU, but finally got around to finishing as a gift for my dear @kc-needs-coffee! Because hey, McNully needs more love, and masquerades are fun. 💙💚

Firstly, here’s the inspirations for KC’s and McNully’s masks…as well as for KC’s capelet and McNully’s tunic. As mentioned in the section itself, KC is dressed as an owl (snowy, to be specific), which is symbolic of wisdom (one of canon!KC’s house values, since she’s a Ravenclaw), while McNully is an octopus, symbolic of intelligence, unpredictability, and flexibility. I also must confess to taking some inspiration for the placement of these two’s hands and overall juxtaposition���thanks, Titanic! XD

Hope you like it, KC sweetie! 🤗 xoxo

[lifeofkaze]

Oh my goodness what did I just watch? That was SO GOOD!!

Short, flashy trailers like these are the best, that mainly convey images and atmosphere, so well done 👏 plus that speech as bonus 🥰

Honestly I just couldn’t pass the opportunity to vid one of my favourite ships in the fandom, so I needed to add Murphy to the KC edit. @kc-needs-coffee hope you like it! 💙

What can I say? I’m trash for Ben Hardy lol

[lifeofkaze]

Rising Star

Murphy McNully x Reader

A/N: When the data mines for the love letters were going around some time ago @kc-needs-coffee mentioned writing some of her own for the non-dateable options. Well, who would I be to pass on that opportunity for her OTP Murphy and KC?

Warning: serious fluff attack! I think my teeth are rotting sorry not sorry though

Word Count: ~ 1k

You woke with a jolt at the sound of your alarm clock going off. The last remnants of your uneasy sleep still held you in your grip as you tried to remember the dream you’d just had. It had been one of those nonsense scenarios coming to you after lying nervously awake for the whole of the night, only to fall asleep shortly before the break of dawn.

And nervous you were, God forbid. But more than anything else, it was the sheer excitement coursing through your body at the thought of what was awaiting you today that had you literally jump out of your bed.

You had waited so long for this to happen; you first match as a professional Beater for the Caerphilly Catapults.

A small squeal of joy escaped your lips as you bounced through into your kitchen to put on some coffee. As the delicious scent of your favourite French Roast started spreading in the room, you felt exhilarated at the thought of being greeted by a thundering crowd in a matter of hours.

You knew everyone you cared about would be there; your dad had moved heaven and earth to be able to attend your first game, Orion had taken a break from his travels and Skye had promised to drop in as the Wanderers weren’t playing that day themselves. Even some of your old Quidditch friends from school wanted to come as well.

Everyone would be there to cheer you on; everyone but the one person you needed to see the most.

The fire burning in your chest dampened at the thought of how much you missed Murphy, especially today. But he was miles and miles away in London, working for the Quidditch sector of The Daily Prophet. He was assigned to report on the match of the Montrose Magpie’s on the same day as yours, so there was no way he would make it to watch your debut.

Of course he would be proud of you no matter what; you just wished he could actually see your dream become reality and share that moment with you.

Caught up in your musings, you didn’t notice the small barn owl sitting outside your window. It must have been waiting for you for quite some time because the tapping of its beak against the glass sounded more impatient than anything. You could have sworn it was glaring at you as you hurried over to the window to let it in.

Sure enough, after you had untied the letter fixed to its leg, it gave you an indignant hoot, hopped back onto the window sill and flew off.

You paid it no mind, however. A wide smile had spread on your face as soon as you had noticed the handwriting on the envelope. You would have recognised Murphy’s incredibly neat hand among thousands.

Settling down on your couch, you took another sip of coffee before flicking the letter open; a warmth spread in your whole body that didn’t solely come from your favourite beverage and your heart started beating faster as your eyes darted over the lines.

My dearest Rising Star,

Today is your big day! Your first match as the Beater you were destined to be. I can’t even tell you how sad it makes me that I’m not with you today.

I thought what facts would best describe how proud I am of you. I could tell you about how my heart beats faster by 35.7 % every time I mention your name in an article.

How there is only a 1.4 % chance my day isn’t made 88.7 % better whenever I look at a picture of you.

I could also tell you about the 79.9 % odds of me punching my colleague who called you ‘pretty but not promising’ if I didn’t know he has absolutely no idea about Quidditch in the first place, but let’s not talk about that.

Because all these statistics don’t matter when I think about you. All the numbers in my head are meaningless compared to the way it makes me feel to know you are mine and I am yours.

Quidditch means the world to both of us, whether on the pitch or on the side-lines. You know I don’t believe in absolutes, but the one thing I can say for sure is that without you I would 100 % lose my voice; because without you, not even Quidditch makes sense.

I’ll be forever grateful that I could witness how your star ignited and rose, because now you’re shining your light on me even when we are apart.

And like all the stars in the sky, no matter what, it will always stay with me.

I am as proud as I can be to call you my own, my fiery star, and I don’t have the slightest doubt that once you are in the air where you belong, everyone else will see what you can do.

Show them what my girl is made of! Make me proud!

I’m counting the days until I can finally hold you again,

Murphy

You sank back into the pillows of your couch and held the letter closer to your heart. Murphy’s words had edged themselves into your conscience, making you ache with longing for him and the burning desire to do just what he had told you to.

It was still a few hours until you had to be at the pitch to meet your teammates, but you couldn’t wait a second longer. Your determination burning brighter than ever before, you got changed into your new jersey and headed out for the Catapults stadium.

Time to show the world what you were capable of.

[lifeofkaze]

Pumpkin Pies

Murphy McNully x Reader

 A/N: A little surprise for my lovely friend and wifey @kc-needs-coffee​, I’ve wanted to write a little Murphy story for ages, so here you go. Somehow, it ended up a lot fluffier and less smutty than I meant to, but whatever 😊

Warning: NSFW, +18 only, oral sex (female receiving), mentions of food

Word Count: ~ 2.500

You stirred in your sleep, turning from one side to the other. Reluctantly, you opened your eyes and stared at the ceiling, before covering your face with your hand. You had no idea what time it was, but the faint, blue tinted light washing into your bedroom from the open French windows indicated that it was nowhere near any time to get up.

And on your birthday of all days.

You turned around to snuggle back into your blanket, extending your hand to find the comfortable warmth of your husband’s strong back next to you. But all your fingers touched was the fabric of the sheets.

Confused and now fully awake, you sat up. And really, Murphy’s side of the bed was abandoned; and had been for some time judging by how pleasantly cool the bed felt in the hot air of the summer night.

Now, the sound that had initially awoken you reached your ear again. It was a high whizzing noise, drifting up into your bedroom from some place downstairs. It was followed by a suppressed string of curses.

You chuckled as you swung your legs out of bed and reached for your dressing gown. What was Murphy up to at this ungodly hour?

Leaving your bedroom, you shivered as your bare feet touched the wooden floor in the hallway. All the windows were opened wide, the curtains gently swaying in the breeze coming in from the garden. As you pulled your dressing gown tighter around you, you sighed languorously at the sensation of the cooling touch on your heated skin. It was a welcome change from the unnatural heat wave that had hit Wales this summer.

As you reached the landing of the stairs, you stopped and contemplated for a moment. Looking around searchingly, you finally reached for one of the small, patterned carpets lining the floor. Setting it to the very edge of the landing, you jump on it, gracefully surfing down the ramp next to the stairs.

You giggled as you came to a halt at the bottom. That never got old.

Another flurry of curses drew your attention again and you continued in its direction. It seemed to come from the kitchen.

On your way towards the source of the noise you passed the entrance to the dining room, where the table was already set for your birthday breakfast. You stepped closer and felt a smile steal onto your face. Like every year, Murphy had gotten you a huge bouquet of flowers in every shade of blue imaginable. They were arranged in your favourite bronze vase. You leaned in and closed your eyes to smell their sweet fragrance, evoking memories of your wedding day all those many years ago.

Your eyes came to rest on the two gifts already displayed next to the flowers, cards propped up against them. Your fingers trace the neatly wrapped yellow-and-black one, a stark contrast to the messier one of them both in green and silver wrapping paper.

You were a little bit sad your children weren’t able to celebrate together with you this year, but they were spending the first half of their summer break with their godparents and you knew from their letters just how much fun they were having.

You continued on into the kitchen to finally get to the bottom of the racket your husband was making. It was all you could do not to laugh as you found Murphy with his back to you, angrily shaking the blender he had been trying to use. It’s knives were clearly blocked with something, explaining the loud whizzing noises. Upon closer inspection, you were able to discern what Murphy had been trying to blend. It seemed to be raw pieces of pumpkin.

“Babe, I think you’re supposed to cook those first.”

You bit back a laugh at his shocked face as he whirled around in his chair, almost dropping the blender. He managed to catch it at the last moment before it could clatter to the floor.

“Oh no, did I wake you up?” His face fell and he set the kitchen instrument back down on the counter. “I wanted to bake you a pumpkin pie so we could have it for breakfast while it’s still warm,” he confessed. “Sorry I botched the surprise.” He rolled over to you and you bent down to place a tender kiss on his lips.

“Happy Birthday, darling,” he muttered against your mouth.

You straightened up again, taking in the mess he had made in your once pristine kitchen.

“There is still time before breakfast,” you smiled. “How about we finish it together?”

His face lighting up again, Murphy produced another pumpkin from out of nowhere and the two of you set to work. Before long, you shoved the delicious looking pie into the oven and clapped the flour off your hands.

Turning around to Murphy, you began to chuckle. His usually perfect hair was ruffled and his shirt was dusted with flour and sugar. A bit of mashed pumpkin was stuck to his cheek and you pulled him closer to kiss it off him. He chuckled upon feeling the tip of your tongue against his skin as you tasted the sweet flavour of two of your favourite things in the world.

The spicy aftertaste it left in your mouth left you wanting for more.

You wrapped your arms around him, nuzzling his neck with your nose.

“I think I want my present now.”

Excitedly, Murphy grabbed your hand, pushing his chair in the direction of the dining room with his other hand. “Of course, you’re going to love it!”

You stopped him and turned his chair around again, chuckling lowly. “That’s not what I had in mind,” you purred into his ear seductively.

Murphy leaned back, eyeing you up and down with a smug grin. He put his hands on your exposed thighs, slightly pushing up the hem of your silk chemise. You shivered at his touch.

“Who would I be to deny the birthday girl her wish?” he whispered hoarsely. “Have you been a good girl this year?”

You sat down on his lap, straddling him. “You tell me,” you cooed into his ear.

His fingers started exploring your body, casually relieving you of your dressing gown. He put his lips to your collarbone; the grazing of his teeth against your sensitive skin drew a small moan from your mouth.

“Such a good girl,” Murphy hummed against you. “But it is your birthday. Tell me how I can make you feel good.”

“Touch me,” you groaned into his ear, while pressing yourself against him, your hand stroking the bulge in his pants. He let out a low growl at the stimulation before crashing his lips onto yours with force.

You opened your mouth eagerly for him, welcoming his dancing tongue. His moans intensified as you started rubbing his already hard cock faster through the fabric of his trousers. With a dirty smile, you bit his lower lip and pulled away, eyes teasing him.

“You like that, babe? Do you want some more of that?”

His eyes were overflowing with lust as he accepted your unspoken challenge. He gripped your chin with his hand, pulling you closer towards him, firm but gently. His grey eyes bore into yours, making your heart beat even faster than it was already.

“What I want is to see you perfectly wrecked, my dear,” he growled from deep within his chest. “I want to fuck you so thoroughly you’ll never forget this birthday.”

He underlined his words by grabbing the hem of your chemise and pulling it over your head. Left in only your panties, your nipples hardened instantly at the contact with the cold air.

Murphy smiled appreciatively, running a thumb over your nipple. He inclined his head and took it into his mouth, running his tongue over it, while his other hand gripped your waist firmly. Your moans were growing louder by the minute.

He suddenly let go off you, pushing you off his lap. He pointed to the countertop.

“Sit.”

You were all too eager to comply and hoisted yourself on the countertop. Murphy put his hands on your knees, spreading them apart. You supported your weight with your hands as you lifted your butt up from the counter once more, to let him strip you off the last piece of clothing you had left. Leaning back in ecstasy, you gasped as he ran the tip of his skilled tongue over your clit once, twice, three times.

He smirked up at you with a devilish smile. “Now, who is the one wanting more?”

You only whimpered in response, desperate to get his sweet mouth back to where you needed it.

But Murphy only chuckled in response. “Is my birthday girl very eager, yeah? Shouldn’t let her wait then, I want her to be ready for me.”

With that, he buried his face between your legs once more. He hadn’t had a chance to shave yet and the traces of stubble on his cheeks deliciously scratched the inside of your thighs.

You pushed your palms into the surface supporting you to arch your back towards him even more. The circles his tongue was painting on your clit almost drove you insane. You felt the heat building inside you, as Murphy gently started sucking it. He slid two fingers inside you and started pumping them in and out of you, his fingertips massaging your sweet spot. He could’ve found it in his sleep.

Sure enough, your breath began growing more unsteady with every pump of his fingers. He could feel your orgasm approaching and smiled to himself at the sweet sounds he was coaxing from you. The slight shift of his lips against your clit did you in. With a gasp you buried your free hand in his blonde hair, shaking from the tension that released from your body in a wave of passion.

You closed your eyes for a moment, relishing your high, as you felt Murphy retreating from you. Raising your head, you saw your sweet boy looking smug as ever at what he had just put you through. He opened his mouth to say something, but you were having none of it.

Despite still feeling shaky from your orgasm, you slid off the counter in a smooth motion and put your hand on his chest, pushing his chair back against the kitchen island.

“Shut up.”

You pulled his shirt over his head, Murphy eagerly holding his muscular arms up to speed things up.

“Time for the main course,” you breathed into his ear, before pulling down his pants and straddling him once again.

Murphy didn’t respond, but the desperate look in his eyes was all you needed to see. He took his cock into his hand, pumping himself a few times before you lowered yourself onto him. He groaned as he felt the wetness he had caused you, and your determination to repay him in kind.

You let your hips swirl slowly a few times until you had adjusted before you started grinding against him. Murphy dipped his head back, mind numb with pleasure, and drank in the sight before him. The person he loved the most in this world, her beautiful breasts bouncing up and down as she worked for him to reach his high.

Still sensitive from your last orgasm, you quickly felt the tension building in your core again. You arched your back further to give Murphy an unobstructed view of you whining and moaning in sweet agony on top of him, as the both of you chased your highs.

You could feel you were almost there. You quickly angled your hips differently without even missing a beat. The sudden change in stimulation did it for the both of you. With a cry you gripped Murphy’s broad shoulders, your nails leaving deep marks in his skin. He buried his face against your throat as his orgasm shook him violently and you could feel his chest heaving against yours.

Both of you were silent for a moment, nothing but your ragged breaths audible in the room. Finally, you pulled away from your embrace, looking deep into Murphy’s eyes, nothing but love written in them.

“Happy Birthday,” he whispered.

You placed a loving kiss on the tip of his nose and got up. You shrugged back into your dressing gown, not bothering to tie it up again.

“Coffee?”

 *

Steaming mugs of coffee in hand, you and Murphy relocated into your living room, sitting in front of the open window leading onto the terrace. You sat on the ground leaned against his shins. His fingers absentmindedly stroked your tousled curls as you watched the sky lighten in the east, bursting into a firework of reds and pinks and oranges as the sun came up, heralding another beautiful day.

You shifted against his legs, hands wrapped tightly around your favourite mug in the form of an owl. Breathing in the smell of French roast, you craned your head around to look into Murphy’s beautiful face and raised your mug.

“Here’s to another year, my love.”

Murphy clanked his mug against yours. “However many there may be, I want to spend every single one with you.”

You got up your feet to give him another longing kiss, but an awful, burning smell stopped you in your tracks. Your eyes went wide.

“Murphy,” you whispered, “you set the alarm on the oven, didn’t you?”

His face went pale at your words. “No, I thought you did!”

You exchanged looks before racing back into the kitchen. There was smoke rising from the oven, whatever was left of your pumpkin pie reduced to an unsightly black mass.

You waved away the smoke as you opened the door and had to cough violently, tears stinging in your irritated eyes.

“Well, I think I’ll pass on pie for breakfast,” you remarked sardonically.

Murphy looked mortified as he observed the burnt catastrophe that was supposed to you birthday pie.

“I’m so sorry, darling,” he sighed. “I know pumpkin pie is your favourite; I just wanted you to have all you could ever want for your birthday.”

Your eyes softened and you didn’t think your heart could hold any more love for him than it did at this exact moment.

You sat down on his lap, snuggling up tightly to him, and breathed in his smell of hairspray, coffee and pumpkin pie.

“You silly,” you murmured. “I certainly got better than anything I could have ever imagined.”

[lifeofkaze]

Because I'm living an breathing the Rockstar AU atm but I'm also hard procrastinating writing it I made a little present for the best stage managers a band like Equinox could ever wish for @kc-needs-coffee

Rockstar Murtriona is life 💛💙