#boondock saints x reader

[fbfh]

thinking about getting rescued by Connor and Murphy Macmanus. you're making ends meet, living in a shitty apartment in boston when some jackass in the russian mob decides that extorting your landlord isn't enough anymore. you come home to find huge, scary thugs roaming the halls of your building, banging on doors and demanding money. they try to shake you down, but you... you're not going to give up, and you're certainly not going to let them win without a fight. thankfully, god doesn't hate you quite as much as you worried he might, because you live in the same building as Rocco's girl. she sees what's happening out there and makes a call. the russian mob doesn't find your plucky attitude as endearing as you'd hoped, and you're about to pass out when two mysterious figures burst in, shooting up every gangster in the place. they get closer to you, muttering something to each other you can't make out, and one of them gently picks you up before everything goes black.

you wake up hours later just before dawn in... the shittiest, crustiest apartment you've ever seen. you're still a little out of it, and two guys - who you can only assume are the same ones from before - crouch next to you, speaking in gentle voices and comforting irish accents.

"You're alright sweetheart." the first one says. you think he's the one who carried you out.

"You're safe here." the other adds.

"Those assholes got you pretty good-"

"Put up one hell of a fight though," the second one chuckles, earning a smack on the back of the head from the first.

"Just try to get some more rest, and we'll check on you soon."

you try to agree, but you're exhausted and out like a light before you know it, managing a "hmmmf" in response before you pass back out.

you wake up properly a few hours later, and it takes you a few moments to orient yourself, to realize you're not in this apartment because of a drunken one night stand. you stretch stiffly, still achy and sore from the fight, and stand up to quietly look around. the apartment is empty, but it's worse than you thought it would be. this place is... a dump. a bachelor owned dump, based on the comical lack of furniture or decorations. you don't know what you're supposed to do until those guys get back, but you don't... not trust them. not yet, anyway. so you tidy up a little. you throw out the trash and wipe down the counters and tables. you spray a little lemon cleaner on the windows and make their beds. you find a pile of pillows and blankets on the ground, and realize they slept in the other room so you wouldn't be uncomfortable.

when Connor and Murphy return in their bathrobes pajama pants and work boots, hang their rosaries up on the nails by the door, and set down the breakfast foods and ingredients they just got from the corner store, they pause. something feels... different. there aren't any coffee rings in the kitchen, or tumbled piles of beer caps from their numerous contests seeing who can make the highest stack. things smell fresher, feel... nicer. you walk into the kitchen, hanging up a fresh dish towel over the oven rack when you notice they're back. you startle a little, and they both smile.

"Oh!" you exclaim, "Sorry... I didn't know when you guys would be back, so I just tidied up a little. I hope you don't mind." you say, almost sheepishly. they share a look, then turn their attention back to you.

"You did all this?" asks Connor, then he nudges Murphy. "We got ourselves a regular snow white."

Murphy laughs, looking at your handiwork.

"I didn't know it was possible." He says back to his brother. "The kitchen floor is white. Did you know the kitchen floor was supposed to be white?"

The Macmanus brothers like you. they find you sweet, and charming. they want to protect you and keep you safe from the scum in this city. since your apartment building is still a mess and crawling with members of the russian mob, you let them convince you to stay for a few days. of course it doesn't end up being just a few days, and no matter what a rough day they have cleaning up the city, they're always excited to get home, flop down on the couch (the one you got them, and the only thing tying the interior look of their apartment together) crack open a couple cold beers, and spend the night with their best girl.

[h0tb0x1nnac0ff1n]

AMEN 🙏

[dixons-sunshine]

Make A Move | Murphy MacManus x Fem!Reader

Summary: Murphy had liked you for years. However, he was always scared to make a move, too afraid that he’d damage his friendship with you if he made a move. Thankfully, a small push from his brother made him brave his fear, making for an unforgettable moment for the man.

Genre: Fluff.

Warnings: Swearing.

Word count: 2.1k.

A/N: This was meant to be a drabble. I didn’t intend for it to be this long. However, my muse took this idea and bolted with it, and I let her do it because it rarely happens anymore. My first story in a while that’s longer than 500 words, and I’m proud of myself for it. Let’s hope the muse stays for a while so I can power through some requests. Anyways, happy Murphy Monday, my loves!

“If ya stare at ‘er any harder, you’re gonna burn a hole straight through her skull.”

Murphy jumped at the sudden, unexpected sound of his brother’s voice close to his ear. Some of his beer spilled out of his glass, trickling down his shirt and onto his jeans, making Murphy glare daggers at his cackling brother. “It’s not funny.”

“Oh, but it is!” Connor laughed and shook his head, slapping his knee just for the dramatics—and to piss his brother off even more, because he found it rather amusing. “You’re so lovestruck, starin’ at her, you haven’t even heard a single word I’ve said these last fifteen minutes.”

“Of course I’ve been listening,” Murphy tried to defend himself while placing his beer glass on the bar’s counter, trying to dry the wetness on his shirt.

Connor snorted in amusement. “Yeah? Then what was I busy sayin’?”

Fuck. “Somethin’ ‘bout...” Murphy trailed off, trying to hone in on his ‘twin power’ to see if he could read Connor’s mind.

“About Y/N...” Connor began, waiting to see if Murphy would catch on to his ruse. However, much to Connor’s great amusement, he didn’t catch on at all. This is going to be great, Connor mused silently.

“Yeah, about Y/N! ‘Bout how she...”

“She looks...”

“Yeah, she looks...”

“Real cute in that dress.”

“Real cute in that dress!” Murphy finished as if knowing exactly what Connor had been talking about. However, Murphy quickly realized that Connor had set him up, and he punched his brother’s shoulder in a weak attempt at retaliation. “You’re a real dick, y’know that?” he grumbled in annoyance.

Connor doubled over with laughter, nearly spilling his own beer. “You’re just so gullible sometimes, brother.”

“I hate you,” Murphy retorted, picking up his beer and taking a big swig from it. “You’re a pain in the ass.”

“Murph, you can’t say that about your brother.”

The sound of your beautiful, angelic voice reached Murphy’s ears, and he almost spilled his beer again due to being startled—again. He looked up and locked eyes with you, his cheeks flushing at the radiant smile you sent his way as you wiped the countertop in front of him.

“Aye, tell him, las,” Connor laughed, wrapping an arm around Murphy’s shoulder and lightly shaking him. “Tell him he’s bein’ mean to his dear brother. Tell him he needs to quit or otherwise he’s gonna hurt his brother’s feelings.”

You rolled your eyes at Connor’s words, a small, light laugh escaping you. “Yeah, what he said,” you ‘agreed’, placing the rag down behind the counter and leaning on top the wooden surface. “Can I get you boys anything else?”

“Nah, I’m alright. Pretty sure Rocco already ordered me somethin’. I’m about to wipe the floor with him once I beat him at that.” Connor motioned over to the pool table. He took the final swig of his beer, placed the glass down on the countertop and sent you one final smile, before looking back at Murphy with a look that the other twin knew clearly meant “this is your chance. Don’t fuck it up.” With that, Connor walked away, leaving Murphy alone with you.

Murphy shook his head and toyed with the rim of his beer glass. It was no secret to anyone—except you—that the MacManus brother seated at the bar was head over heels for you. However, as flirtatious a man as Murphy was, this was different. You were different. You weren’t just some random lady he wanted to charm to get her number or something along those lines. He had known you for three years at that point in time. You had become one of the most important people in his life, and he greatly valued your friendship. If he were to ask you out and you happened to say no, would your friendship be irrevocably damaged? Would you cast him out of your life? Would he ever be permitted to even breathe the same air as you?

“You’re thinking really hard, Murph. Penny for your thoughts?”

Your voice reached Murphy’s ears, and he wished that you would never stop talking. He could listen to you ramble on forever. Your voice was so addictive to listen to. However, he quickly snapped himself out of his thoughts, reminding himself that you had asked him a question. “I’m alright, las. Just thinking.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said,” you giggled, unknowingly making Murphy’s heart leap at the beautiful sound. “What are you thinking about?”

Murphy shrugged and looked down. “Nothin’.”

“You know, people can’t usually think of nothing, because the human brain, according to what I know, is incapable of comprehending nothing. When you think of nothing, you see black, a void, right? Therefore you aren’t technically thinking of nothing, because a void is still something.” You let out a small laugh at the confused frown that spread across Murphy’s face. “Sorry. I just had to. It’s my favourite response for when people say they’re thinking of nothing. It confuses the hell out of people.”

Murphy chuckled and leaned his forearms on the counter. “Is that true? That whole thing you just said?”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t know. I’m not a scientist,” you replied with a small smile.

Murphy chuckled again. “Could’ve fooled me. That sounds like something straight out of those science articles in the magazines.”

“Why, thank you. I am pleased to know that I am able to sound intelligent enough in the presence of true intelligence,” you stated in an over exaggerated posh voice.

Murphy frowned at that. “Me? Intelligent? Where’d ya get that from, las?”

You raised your eyebrows at that. “You’re kidding,” you laughed in a disbelieving tone. “You speak, like, two thousand languages fluently. How the hell’s that not intelligent?”

Murphy shrugged nonchalantly. “It isn’t that hard. You just gotta keep practicin’ ‘em consistently. It also helps that I’ve been exposed to those languages from an early age. Anyone could do it, though. Even you.”

“Yeah? Literally all I can say in another language is “bon appetite”, and the only reason I know what that means is because I took one semester of French back in high school.”

“That’s still impressive, though.”

You scoffed and shook your head with a smile. “No need to try and make me feel better about myself, Murph. I’m not trying to seek pity. I’m sure there’s something I can do that you can’t.”

Murphy smiled and nodded. “Yeah, there’s probably plenty of things you’re better at than me. Hell, I can think of one right now.” Murphy leaned back and stretched, his shirt riding up slightly to expose the skin beneath the fabric, and the man missed the way your eyes trailed over it, and the way you quickly averted your gaze when you realized what you had been doing. “You crochet, right? I’ve tried that before. All I managed to do was somehow poke myself in the eye.”

You giggled at that. “One point for me, I guess, and a hundred points for you, still.” Before Murphy could protest and reassure you that you were indeed talented and that you could do things he couldn’t, you moved on. “But enough about that. What were you and Connor talking about before I came over? I heard my name being mentioned.”

Murphy’s eyes widened at your question. What the hell was he supposed to say? Should he tell the truth? Should he lie? Should he make up an excuse and hightail it out of there? However, Connor’s look from before, the ‘don’t fuck it up’ look, appeared in Murphy’s mind, and he sighed. There was no time like the present, he supposed. Might as well test the waters and see where he stood with you.

“Connor was teasin’ me, las, ‘cause I was busy starin’ at ya,” he admitted quietly, his cerulean eyes staring into yours, anxiously awaiting your reaction.

To say you were shock would be the understatement of the century. Your eyes widened at his admission, your heart beginning to pound out of your chest. However, you tried to school your expression to a more neutral one, attempting to hide your nerves—and excitement. “You were staring at me?” When Murphy nodded, you inhaled once, scraping together the confidence for what you were about to say. “You like what you saw?”

Be cool, be cool, Murphy thought to himself, trying not to expose how nervous he actually was. “Oh, I love what I see.”

See. He had used the present tense. It could’ve meant nothing, but you clung to the hope that it meant something. You locked eyes with him, a small, flirtatious—well, you hoped it was flirtatious—smile spreading across your face. “Yeah?”

“Aye,” Murphy nodded. You weren’t repulsed by his ‘advances’. He took that as a good sign. “I always love what I see when it comes to you, las. You’re a beautiful lady. I could stare at ya for hours.” You giggled shyly and ducked your head, making Murphy smile affectionately. “And that’s the truth. You know I hate lyin’.”

Your heart was pounding against your ribcage. With each compliment he gave you, your confidence grew immensely. “You’re not too harsh on the eyes either, Murph,” you replied jokingly. That was an understatement. He was damn pleasing to look at. You could stare at him for hours.

Murphy chuckled at that. “That’s good to know, otherwise this would’ve been embarrassin’, me makin’ a move on a beautiful lady while lookin’ like a dried out pickle.”

Your heart both simultaneously sped up and stopped. Making a move. So it wasn’t just playful, flirtatious banter? You were immensely pleased to hear that. “You’re making a move on me?”

Murphy readapted his earlier shy demeanour. “Um, no. I don’t—” He cut himself off by taking a deep breath, before exhaling and continuing. He was already in too deep. There was no backing out now. “I mean, yeah. I am. I jus’... I’ve been wantin’ to ask you out for a while now, but I was too afraid. I’m sorry if that’s weird or anythin’, las. I didn’t mean to make ya uncomfortable. I can leave if ya—”

Murphy never got to finish his sentence. He was effectively shut up from his nervous rambling by your hands grabbing the lapels of his jacket, tugging him up from his seat to lean over the counter, your lips crashing against his for a kiss. This first kiss exchanged between the two of you wasn’t like the ones he’d seen in those cheesy romance movies Connor would sometimes force him to watch. It was sloppy and messy, yet tender and gentle, too. It was perfect.

Whoops and cheers filled the air around you, making you and Murphy pull apart. The two of you looked towards the pool table where everyone had gathered to watch Rocco and Connor compete, and saw that everyone’s attention rested on the two of you, and you quickly became aware that everyone had witnessed the kiss happen. The cheers and clapping proceeded, making Murphy duck his head as his cheeks became ablaze in embarrassment. You simply waved the men at the pool table off, rolling your eyes at them to mask the embarrassment you felt as well.

Game forgotten, Connor made his way over to the two of you and wrapped his arm around Murphy’s shoulder, lightly shaking him a few times, a huge, satisfied grin on his face. “Atta boy, Murph! I knew ya could do it.” His blue eyes trailed over to you, his grin now directed towards you. “Proud of you, too, las. I’ve known ‘bout your little crush on ol’ Murphy here for a while now.”

Rocco, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, hoisted himself up onto the counter and sent you a teasing smirk. “I’m surprised either of ‘em made a move. Thought we were gonna be stuck in an endless loop of lovestruck staring.”

As Connor and Rocco continued on with their teasing, your eyes drifted over to meet Murphy’s. He sent you a small, shy smile, his cheeks tinted with a crimson colour. You sent him a smile back, your heart fluttering in your chest. Let Connor and Rocco tease you for all you care. Your moment with Murphy was perfect, and it was an amazing turning point in your relationship with the MacManus brother.

Now all you had to do was wait for another minute alone, and then you’d definitely repeat your actions, albeit this time, away from prying eyes.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

This man is just….hhhhhnnnggg. I’m excited to be writing him even if this story is gonna take a while.

[daryltwdixon]

murphy x reader one shot

crying screaming over murphy calling you an angel brb

warnings: smut :)

word count: 1.8k

The late morning sun filters through the blinds, casting soft shadows across Murphy’s small, cluttered apartment. The smell of coffee fills the air, warm and grounding, mixing with the faint scent of smoke as he leans against the doorframe, watching you. He takes a slow drag from his cigarette, exhaling a curl of smoke as he lets his gaze linger on you, a hint of a smile playing at his lips.

You’re at the counter, barefoot and clothed in only his shirt that barely covers the cheeky lines at the juncture of your thighs, your hair still a little messy from sleep. There’s something peaceful about the scene, the simple routine of pouring coffee into chipped mugs, as if the world beyond these walls doesn’t exist for a moment.

“You’re somethin’ else, angel,” Murphy murmurs, his voice low and warm, breaking the quiet. The way he says it—like he can’t quite believe you’re really here—sends a flutter through you.

You glance over your shoulder, catching the softness in his expression, the way he’s looking at you like he doesn’t want to look anywhere else. “It’s just coffee,” you say, smiling as you hand him a mug.

He takes it from you, setting his cigarette aside before reaching out to pull you close. “Nah,” he whispers, his fingers brushing along your jaw, his thumb grazing your cheek. “It’s you, bein’ here, love… feels like I don’t even need to die to get to heaven.”

Your breath catches, his words wrapping around you, and he leans in, eyes holding yours for a lingering beat before he closes the last bit of space between you, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss is gentle at first, warm and unhurried, as if he’s savoring the moment, letting it sink in.

You hear him set down his coffee mug and his other hand slips around your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens, his mouth fresh with the taste of coffee and cigarettes. You blindly set yours down on the counter beside him, both of your hands finding their way to the back of his neck, threading through his hair as he holds you steady, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that leaves you feeling completely lost in him.

Before you know it, he’s lifting you just slightly off your toes as he walks you backward, guiding you toward the bed, never breaking the kiss. You smile against his lips, a giggle escaping you as you're blindly led to the other room.

You feel the edge of the mattress against the backs of your knees, and with a gentle nudge, he eases you down onto the bed. He follows, his weight settling over you as he props himself on his elbows, careful not to crush you but close enough that his warmth surrounds you. His lips find yours again, this time with a little more urgency, a softness tempered with a raw need, as if he’s trying to memorize the feel of you in every kiss, every touch.

You lose yourself in him, your hands wandering over his back, pulling him closer, feeling his heartbeat against you as he deepens the kiss, lips tracing down to your jaw and lingering along your neck, leaving soft, reverent kisses that make your breath hitch. His fingers thread through your hair, holding you gently as he looks down, taking a moment to soak in the sight of you lying there beneath him.

“An angel,” he whispers, bringing his lips back to your neck, his kisses soft and warm, with his teeth grazing sensitive places that send goosebumps across your skin. His hand slips from your hair and slides under the shirt you stole from him, your bare body arching instinctively to meet his touch. His hand rests on your waist, memorizing every curve, and he groans as he leans into you, desperate to be closer.

Your hands are hurried as you tug away the last of each other’s sleepwear, bodies heated and hungry against one another. He pulls you on top of him, your hips straddling him as he looks up at you with reverence.

"Beautiful," he says, accent always thicker when he's full of desire.

“Could say the same thing,” you whisper, slipping off him to lie between his legs, your hands finding his warm, ready cock. He sucks in a sharp breath as your fingers wrap around him, his head falling back against the pillows when you brush your thumb over the tip. Your other hand stretches along his stomach, resting along the trail of hair that curls there. You press soft, wet kisses along his length, his whimpers growing needier as you tease him until finally, you bring him to your mouth, tongue tracing over the precum. Murphy’s head lifts, his stormy blue eyes fixed on you, filled with raw need. A small smirk plays on your lips before you take him completely, cheeks hollowing as you pull him deep.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his gaze locked on your face, taking in every detail. You moan around him, loving the weight of him between your lips, eager to draw more sounds from him. Your hand moves where your mouth doesn’t reach, mirroring the motion of your head as you glide along his cock. His fingers tangle in your hair, gently guiding your pace, and you let him, loving his control even in its gentleness. With a sudden movement, you surprise him, taking him to the back of your throat, and his hips buck as you gag slightly around him.

"Christ, I’m sorry, angel,” he says breathlessly as you lift your mouth from him, cracking a smile,"Lord's name in vain, Murph--"

His hand moves to cup your jaw, his thumb grazing your swollen bottom lip. “Tha's what confession's fer, now c'mere,” he murmurs, sitting up and drawing your face to his. His lips crash into yours, tongues sliding together as your moans mix with his. He presses you down onto the bed, settling beside you. One hand cups your face with reverence, while the other glides along your body, tracing the sensitive skin of your breast. His touch makes you shiver, and he gently twists your nipple, pulling a soft whimper from your lips. Your eyes flutter shut as his mouth replaces his fingers, his tongue soothing the sensitive bud while his hand wanders further down. His fingers trail along your thigh, encouraging your legs to open and he brushes the pads of his fingers along the inside of your thighs, teasingly close, making you arch toward him.

"Murph," A soft, breathy moan escapes your lips, barely a whisper, but it’s filled with everything you're feeling in that moment, an aching need for him. Your back lifts from the bed, hips just barely undulating in the air, desperate for anything.

“Yes, my angel?” he murmurs, releasing your other nipple he had moved to.

“Please,” you whimper, but he stills his fingers, drawing a soft whine from you.

“Please what, my love?” he teases, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose.

“I need—I need…” you struggle, voice trembling with need.

“Use your words,” he chuckles, low and rough, letting his fingers barely graze closer.

“Murphy, I swear to god—”

"Lord's name is vain, sweetheart," his smirk twitching his cheek, and as you're about to snap back, your words cut off as he presses two fingers against your wet heat, your eyes rolling back as he groans, feeling your arousal coating his fingers. His fingers return, gliding over your clit in slow circles, moving at a maddening pace that leaves you breathless. Your hand grips his face, pulling him in for a kiss as you whimper and moan against his mouth. He slips his fingers inside you, hooking them just right, and you gasp, your mouth falling open as his tongue brushes along your top lip, coaxing every reaction out of you.

“My God, you’re perfect,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with raw need as his gaze locks on your flushed face. You pull yourself together long enough to deepen the kiss again, rocking your hips against his fingers. He hooks and scissors his digits, working you with precision as his thumb grazes your clit, making your entire body tremble.

Just as you feel yourself nearing the edge, he pulls his fingers out, and you whine, your body thrumming with anticipation as he moves between your legs.

“Can’t wait any longer,” he says, and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close. His hands slip beneath you, holding you tightly as he pushes inside, his cock meeting no resistance against your wetness. He groans deeply, his voice roughening into a growl as he bottoms out and his teeth find the sensitive juncture of your shoulder and neck. He bites down as he withdraws almost to the tip, then thrusts back in with a force that has you crying out. His lips travel along your neck, leaving a trail of wet, hot kisses as he moves against you. Every thrust feels like more than just the physical; it’s as if you’re weaving into each other’s souls, binding in ways words could never capture.

"My beautiful fuckin' angel," His breath catches, a low, throaty sound escaping him as his lips hover close to your ear, rough and heated. "So fuckin' perfect, like your cunt was made fer me, eh?"

“Oh god, Murph—” you gasp, a desperate sound slipping from you as he groans, and your hips lift to meet his. His hand moves from around your back to slide between you, his fingers finding your clit again. He pulls the hood back, rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves in circles that make your eyes widen. He smirks, almost blasphemously, as he watches you, his fingers working expertly. You let out a shuddering sigh, every nerve on fire, your hands pressing against his chest as you feel yourself cresting. I's too much, too overwhelming, too much too much too much as pleasure skyrockets in you, and you're moaning his name as he continues his thrusts, slower now to let you concentrate.

"Come on, dove, let me see you. Let me feel tha' sweet pussy cum all over me cock," he says, almost under his breath he is breathing so hard. Your fingers dig into his flesh as he sucks in air, "Tha's it, right there, come on,"

Your body obeys, arching against him as the first waves of your climax hit, your muscles tightening around him as stars burst behind your closed eyes. He groans, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chases his own release, pulling out just in time. He strokes himself, and with a low growl, he spills over your thigh, his voice a hoarse, reverent chant of your name.

As the euphoria settles, he collapses beside you, drawing you close, his breath warm against your skin. The two of you lie there, tangled together, the world outside forgotten.

"Gonna need to put on another pot of coffee," you groan, a breathy laugh against his chest as you roll over onto him.

He lets out a contented sigh, his fingers running through your hair. “As long as you bring that coffee right back here, I’ll allow it.”

[dix0nvix3n]

MDNI 18+

Murphy definitely dirty talks and praises you in different languages. I mean he knows so many, why not use them?

In bed he'd fluently switch between languages. He loves watching you get all flustered because even though you don't know what he's saying you know it's absolutely sinful.

You'd lay with him in bed after you're done fucking for the night and your mind is still swimming in euphoria, you'd giggle and sweetly ask him what languages he was using and what he was saying to you. He'd repeat the words back and translate them with a straight face and he'd laugh as you hide your face in his chest, feeling your face heat up.

Eventually because he's translated enough to you during pillow talk, you end up being able to dirty talk in other languages too, usually just simple phrases but you'd be somewhere in public and say something to him and laugh as you watch his cheeks flush pink and prepare yourself for the night ahead of you.

[star-wrote]

ANYFING WITH FLUFFY MUEPHY MACMANUS PLES PLES PLES PLES LMAOOO

Mo Stór

ao3 link

Characters: Murphy MacManus x Fem!Reader

A/N: loving the energy in this request, anon. if you had a tail, it would be wagging LMAO. i’m sorry this took AGES, but i hope you enjoy anyway! <3

Warnings: cussing, bad irish accent writing, fluff, domestic bliss, seriously it’s so fluffy

Word Count: 817

Dating Murphy MacManus isn’t the easiest thing in the world. In fact, if you were to ask his brother, he’d say something along the lines of “Dunno how ya put up with us being vigilantes and shit, lass.”

You and Murphy have had countless talks about him and his brother’s “hobby,” half of them ending in you begging to join him. He would never let you, it’s too dangerous.

So you work your job to support yourself and the boys. You don’t mind it really, they treat you like their queen. Usually, they’re home when you get off work. Walking in to a warm dinner, even if it was a frozen pizza, was a feeling you wish for every good person on earth.

Other nights, like tonight, the brothers wouldn’t be home. You couldn’t help the feeling of anxiety that went to that pit in your stomach. You rush to the note on the refrigerator, ripping it from the magnet that also held up a picture of you and Murphy kissing. Both the picture and the magnet fell off the fridge as you read the note.

“Went to grab Chinese takeaway for dinner. Be back soon x.”

You sighed in relief as you read Murphy’s chicken scratch handwriting. You remembered the magnet and picture that fell, and quickly retrieved them off of the floor. You smiled as you pinned the picture back to the fridge and silently thanked Connor for capturing that moment on camera.

It had been a long night at McGinty’s, and Doc had kept the rounds coming. You had somehow convinced Murphy to dance with you; it must have been the David Bowie song playing. At the end of the song, he dipped you down like you were in some kind of romance movie, and gave you one of many kisses that you two have shared in that bar. Once he heard the click of the camera, he gently dropped you to the floor and shoved his brother, trying to grab the camera. You laughed on the bar floor as he successfully got the camera and pocketed it. He must not have been too upset about the picture since he printed it out the next day.

You heard the door open while you were reminiscing, interrupted by the familiar sound of the twins bickering; this time about chopsticks.

Connor calls your name as he shuts the door. “Are ya gonna use chopsticks?”

You smile as Murphy rolls his eyes and sets the food down on the table. He makes his way over to you and kisses your cheek.

“Yeah, of course,” you answer Connor, “are you?”

He pulls two wrapped pairs of chopsticks out of his pocket and hands you one. “Of course! Murph here wouldn’t let me grab three because he doesn’t know how to use them.”

You look at Murphy who rolls his eyes again as he grabs your hips to slide past you and take a fork from the drawers. He grumbles out “I’m fuckin’ Irish, don’t need to know how, eejit.”

You giggle as you hug him from behind. “I’m pretty sure the Irish didn’t invent the fork either, Murphy.”

He tried to frown, but one side of his mouth lifted. “Are we gonna eat this shite or not?”

After dinner and the nightly movie, you and Murphy retired to your shared bedroom. You were glad that the movie finished because it was Connor’s night to pick, and he picked the worst possible movie on earth, as usual.

You had both changed into your sleep clothes, and brushed your teeth together, smiling at each other in the mirror.

This was your favorite part of the day. You and Murphy got to cuddle in bed and just look at each other. His hand was on your cheek and his thumb was smoothing out your skin.

“Mo stór.” Murphy interrupts the silence.

You smile at him. “What’s that?”

“My darling.”

You kiss his forehead. “Yeah, I am.”

He smiles and kisses your lips gently.

You rest your forehead on his. “For a second I thought you were asking me to marry you or something.”

Without hesitation, he answers, “I would.”

You bring your head up from the pillow and lift your eyebrows in surprise at him.

He notices the shock on your face and scrambles to say something else. “I mean I don’t have a ring for you or anything. But I would get one. I just know that God sent you to me. I may be a saint, but you’re an angel, lass.”

He grabs your hand and kisses the top of it.

“It seems like it would be a pretty divine marriage if you ask me.”

You feel a tear fall from your eye. “Oh my god.”

He smirks as he wipes the tear from your face and chides, “Lord’s name, love.”

You giggle and then nod.

“Let’s do it.”

[emodarylss]

Does anyone have this video ??

Its blocked literally everywhere 😭

[cillivnz]

tidal [murphy macmanus]

PAIRING — MURPHY MACMANUS x F!READER

GENRE — SMUT, SLIGHT ANGST, FLUFF.

WORD COUNT — 2030

WARNINGS — established relationship, cursing, mentions of physical fights, deep cuts (cleaning = pain), bruises, blood, injured!murphy, reader cleans his scars, pet names, sexual innuendo, oral sex (m! receiving), smoking, p in v sex, cowgirl, creampie, slight breeding kink, breasts/nipple play.

A/N — wanted to write fluff, but my horny ass can’t sway from smut. so, enjoy.

NOTES; Leannán — lover

"Fuckin' cocksucker." You hear your boyfriend yell as he entered the apartment. Glancing over your shoulder to see he hasn't yet reached the living room, you proceed with making coffee for the two of you. "What's wrong, baby?" You call out. When no response followed, you decided to pause your coffee preparation and look for Murphy.

Your eyes widened when the sight of him revealed, silhouette first. Murphy was leaning agonisingly against the wall which his bloody hands stained red. The same crimson dripped out of a slick cut tainting his still flawless skin, knuckles reddish blue with incisions.

"God, darling! What happened?" You rushed over in a frenzy, almost falling to the floor, Murphy with you. He chuckled slightly at your reaction before groaning when it ached to laugh.

"He-he, you shoulda' seen the other guy." He said when you began stroking his cheek just below the cut, he winced softly at that. You let your exasperation be known at his pride.

His shirt was torn from places near and above his abdomen which turned out to be slashed as you took a closer look; even, superficially, drawing blood. Your brows furrowed together in pain. You had (through great difficulty) come to terms with his and Connor's way of living, but seeing Murphy in physical agony was something your heart could never grow accustomed to. You knew he was in the best of spirits knowing he let 'justice prevail' yet another time, but you knew he'd feel guilty letting you take care of him. Seeing the pleading look on your face, Murphy gave you a weak smile, the helplessness evident on his face.

"Oh, baby—" you slowly trailed off, kissing the unharmed portions of body. When your kisses trailed off to his abdomen, and finally down to his v-line, you understood where this would end up, and you weren't in the mood right now.

Boy, were you wrong.

"—let's get you cleaned up." You grabbed his hand and gained composure, a tear escaping your eye, unnoticed by Murphy. He let out a sigh before limping slightly, and following you to the bathroom.

You grabbed the medical kit from the cabinet, back facing him as you ordered, "Go sit on the slab, I'll be with you in a minute."

Though the sight of you right now was inviting; tight jeans hugging your curves perfectly, and one of his old t-shirts which was a little raised due to your stretching to reach the topmost shelf, which Murphy would've done for you, if he wasn't the patient; Murphy obediently sat on the slab.

When you turned around his eyes immediately landed on your tits. The shirt was so loose that your bare shoulders were visible, as was your tainted collarbone from Murphy's kissed and your tits. It seemed significantly low-cut, more than needed at the moment. You saw him shift in his pants from the corner of your eye; eyes rolling in disbelief.

He's horny. Broken, beaten up, and horny.

Taking antiseptic and pouring it on some cotton you began to address his wounds.

He seemed to be taking the pain pretty well; his high pain tolerance came to you as no surprise, considering how many brawls he's been in, but he did wince a little as you moved to the slashed flesh of his face. "This one's deep — I'm sorry for the sting, baby." It saddened you to see him in this state, but he did his best to show you he's alright, chucking softly, before coughing in pain.

"I hope I ain't broken somethin'." He groaned, beginning to shift to his side so he could look at you better. "I hope it's not a rib." You sigh softly.

"What was it this time?" You asked, not facing him while rummaging through the drawers to find gauze. "Hm?" He halfheartedly questioned. His eyes were on your body and your body was on his mind; thoughts of you were cut short when you, yourself asked him, "Why did you fight?"

"Rocco." He said less and you understood. You chuckled when he said, "He's a troublemaker, wee lad." You were about to leave the bathroom, looking for a substitute to the hidden gauze, when he grabbed you by the arm. "Come 'ere for a sec," he pulled you closer. You stood between his legs, arms on either side of him.

"You're not even gonna kiss your patient, doctor?" He massaged your curves. "Might be the only cure for me—" His eyes trailed to your lips, oh, how he'd want nothing more than those plump, soft, crimson lips to paint his skin! "You'd make a naughty patient, Murphy." You teased in a sultry tone, "Can't help it," he replied, "My doctor's the sexiest."

"Oh, yeah?" You teased, giggling, "Tell me more." He grinned.

"See, she's the prettiest lass ever. 'Never seen beauty like hers." You blushed, "She's got sexiest eyes that look into my soul when she's sucking my cock. She's got a cute little nose that scrunches up when she laughs at my jokes. And don't get me started on those lips of hers..." You inched closer, softly kissing his neck, and around the tender skin above the cut on his cheek.

"And if her kisses are the cure to my wounds, I'll let myself be slashed over and over." He breathed out, eyes closing in relief when you began sucking on his sweet spot. He placed your hand on the bulge in his pants. "Look what you do to me."

"I didn't do much..." Your voice trailed off as you kissed along his jaw. "You needn't. I could never get over you. Even when you're not around, I'm like this— at the sheer thought of you— it's paining me."

You were at a loss of words; never able to compete with him when it came to vocalising your love, but he never complained. You made up for it by staying. He'd expected you to walk out the first time he got into a fight — but you didn't. You stayed; kissing his crimson scars and watching them heal by your love.

"I'll have the water running for you." You pecked his lips, he nodded, smiling into the quick kiss.

He sat curled by the sink while you filled the bathtub for him. As it filled, you grabbed his hand, and gently stripped him off his rags. Once bare, he let you guide him to warm waters. He was hesitant in sinking in, shivering a little. It wasn't the water though, he trembled from pain and his state devastated you.

"Try to relax, honey." You cooed; he simply sighed in response. "Would you like me to help you?" You asked, an insinuating smirk plastered on your face.

He knew your looks of sexual innuendo like the back of his hand, for he elicited them.

"Please, have your way." He whispered. Even Murphy was surprised at the fact that his hard-on was now noticed by you, not when you removed him from his clothing. "Is this for me, baby?" You asked as you slowly stroked his cock. "All for you, my love. It's made for you." He groaned, head fall backwards as you applied more pressure and hastened your movements. You hummed, licking a long strip from the base to the slit at the tip. "God, you're killing me."

You hum in satisfaction— the sound sending shivers down his spine, causing him to twitch in your mouth. When he began fiddling in the bath— hands not knowing where and what to grab, you began stroking his length instead, free hand gently pressing him down so as to lay him. "Relax, Murphy. I want you to relax for me." Your tone was soothing, nonetheless sultry.

He then let the warm waters consume him. You were all he needed in this cruel world of injustice and dirty politics; to find something as sweet as you, the Lord really did consider him a Saint for blessing him like this.

"That's it darling, I'm gonna cum for you." He grabbed your hair and began hastening your movements. You sucked determinedly, eager to satisfy, and your efforts bore fruit when he hit the back of your throat and let his seed flow down.

"Oh, sweet angel..." He grabbed your face to kiss you. It was damn near impossible for you to not touch his face— his black eye, and slit cheek preventing you— nonetheless, the kiss was passionate and loving.

"Let's get you cleaned, my love." You helped him bathe.

After drying him, you gave him warm clothes to wear. The Boston winters were cruel, and the rain outside was merciless, too. He wore a cozy grey sweater, and sat in front of you, on the couch.

He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. The first puff was passed to you, as became his habit; lighting it for himself, yet he'd always let you have it first— something you've always found endearing, though he doesn't realise how much these little make you fall harder in love with him, as if being more than head over heels as you are was possible.

"What are you thinking about, baby?" You asked him, when his gaze darkened. "I wanna fuck you so bad right now." His voice, barely audible.

"Murphy..." You look at him pleadingly. He knew, too, he couldn't even walk without your support and he wants to pound you. But his hard-on was back, and it throbbed for you.

And, that's how you ended up like this.

Riding him fervently, while his hands practically ached to touch you, still, placed on his sides. His grip on the sheets scrunched the bed-sheet; you were desperate to touch him, too, but your own hands were pinching and playing with your nipples.

You bounce on his cock; the lack of support making your movements sloppy, yet so hard and deep, your thighs ached every time you would lift yourself till only the tip remained inside and then pushed back down as your cunt squeezed him in like a vice.

"That's it, baby, cream on that cock." He looks up to you, your messy hair framing your face perfectly as sweat began to form in your cleavage. Your lips were swollen from kissing him, your breasts bounced with every thrust and your knuckles turned white, gripping the sheets instead of running your fingers through your boyfriend's hair.

He was in so, so deep— his tip kissing the top of your walls rhythmically every time you'd shove down on his cock. You were mesmerised even more so by his face. Those pale blue eyes looked at you, pleadingly; aching, for you to cum. He needed release, of modern worldliness and sexually, and you've become that release for him.

It only took a few more thrusts before he plunged inside you and began grinding your hips together. "Yes, fill me up!" You moaned like a pornstar, causing Murphy to continue thrusting into you, while his mouth ravenously devoured your tits. The overstimulation driving you into a frenzy; you shivered uncontrollably as he stilled, having his fill of you, and letting your excruciatingly hot walls drain his cock.

“I love you so much,” You moaned, as you began to pull yourself up, away from his cock, but it seemed like your cunt's vice-like grip had other plans. "I love you too, leannán— so much." He whispered, out of breath. His swollen lips wet at the sight of you— dripping in his load and your own cum. He pulled you in for a fervent kiss before he could get hard again and fuck you more than both of you could handle right now.

You laid him down whilst kissing, and he weakly pulled the blanket up for you. The minute you snug in, his strong arms wrapped around your waist; one hand tracing circles around your nipples, as if hardening them would put you to sleep, but the little erotic feeling satisfied you.

And your tidal love sweeping Murphy's shores of sins clean was all this Saint could've prayed for.

So you drift off to sleep, in each other's embrace.

TAGLIST — the sweetest, @takemetoyourbestfriendshouse <3

to join, interact with this post.

main masterlist. more from ‘the boondock saints’.

[wingedtrash]

I want him to curb stomp me

[ikbitchssss]

need to gain back the writing mood frfr.

so please send any recommendations my way💜 I’m working on bright red (which will be posted to tumblr soon🙏) and some small one shots (Daryl x Reader as usual)

But I’ll write for(Moght be ooc):

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Negan Smith x Reader

Different Norman Reedus characters x Reader (If I know them🙏 And I won’t do NR x reader as I DON’T write for irl people😅)

I’ll also will write any twd friend ships. And also ones for Reader (Example: Rick and Daryl friendship one shot. Or Rick and Reader friendship one shot. Ect ect)

Just give a prompt or idea for it and I’ll write anything! (Except NON-con/rape, incest, and certain kinks(It’s a long list but if I don’t answer ur request I don’t answer it)

I’ll write 600-3k words. One shots only unless I feel like a part 2 heh heh!

I’ll do an official intro blog post blah blah blah but trust ill start getting out some things so🙏

xoxo jade

[h0tb0x1nnac0ff1n]

Love Norman so much it’s becoming a problem😓

[dixons-sunshine]

Irish Man In A Closet | Murphy MacManus x Fem!Reader

A/N: Welcome to the first installment of “Murphy Mondays”! I’ve decided to dedicate Mondays to my favourite Irish man to get some more writing done for him. Anyways, I hope y’all like this!

The sound of rock music playing could faintly be heard through the walls of the supply closet. Joyous laughter and calls for more shots could be heard as well, though those sounds were drown out by the more prominent sounds of gasps and light moans that traveled between you and Murphy.

“Murphy,” you gasped out when he nibbled lightly on the sensitive spot right below your jaw. You tilted your head back against the wall Murphy had you pinned against. “I gotta get back to work.” Murphy simply hummed and continued his onslaught of kisses, trailing down your neck. “Murph, I’m serious. I can’t lose this job.”

“Nah, you won’t,” Murphy denied in a murmur against the skin of your neck. “Doc loves ya. He’d rather come to work naked than fire you.” His lips trailed back up your neck, up your jaw and stopped to hover just above your lips. “It won’t matter if you decided to bail now to, I don’t know, come back home with me?”

A light laugh escaped your lips, one that was muffled when Murphy slanted his lips across yours again. His hands trailed up from your hips, all the way up to your face to gently and tenderly cup your cheeks in his hands, the gesture a stark contrast to his rough, calloused hands. You slightly pulled away from the kiss, your hands on his chest to halt him when he tried to chase your lips with his. You giggled and shook your head.

“Woah there, cowboy. I’m serious. I’ve gotta get back to work.” The look on Murphy’s face was both amusing and almost made you give in to what he wanted. His ocean-coloured eyes looked deep into your own, the man behind them trying his best to convince you with his version of puppy dog eyes. However, you managed to hold on to your resolve. “That isn’t going to work on me, Murph.”

A mischievous smile broke out on his face. “Can’t blame a man for tryin’, las.” He sighed and took a step back, reluctantly forcing himself to be rational. What you said was true. You did need to go back to work. It certainly didn’t mean he had to like it, however.

You smiled at him and stepped away from the wall. Your hand came up to gently cup his cheek, your thumb rubbing over his skin affectionately. “I get off in an hour. How about you take me home?”

Murphy could instantly understand the implication behind the otherwise innocent statement. He nodded his head vigorously. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll do that.”

“Good.” You leaned up to press a chaste kiss to his lips before withdrawing. You began to fiddle with your clothes and hair, hoping to fix your disheveled appearance. “How do I look?”

Murphy couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at his lips. “You look like ya just made out with an Irish man in a closet.” He laughed when you sent him an exasperated look, one that clearly told him to be serious. “Ya look fine, love. I promise.” He gave you one final kiss before turning towards the door. “Don’t forget whatever Doc sent you in here for.” With that, he left the supply closet.

You exhaled deeply and quickly grabbed the thing you had been asked to go get—the mop—before exiting the supply closet as well. You walked back into the main area of the bar and behind the counter, when you heard Connor’s voice ring out from the other side of the counter.

“Well, well. Would you look at that? I was right. Murphy did follow you to the supply closet, didn’t he?”

“Shut up, Connor. I told you, I went to the bathroom.”

“Oh? Didn’t realize Y/N changed her name to ‘the bathroom’.”

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Don’t mind me. Just fucking up my sleep schedule to write some Murphy.

[dix0nvix3n]

Sorry I haven't been active again, life is really tiring. Anyways, it's my birthday so I thought I'd post this edit I made a bit back so I can at least post something for y'all! This is also posted @ daryldixonvixen on tiktok :]

[phoenix761fics]

Getting Mouthy

Much longer ago than I care to think about at this point, I hit 400 followers on my main blog and decided to celebrate by taking smut requests. I wrote three and posted one before the huge ass block that shut me down for years settled in for real. She's not active anymore, but the lovely lovely kitkat-589 requested Murphy MacManus and dirty talk. I held off on posting in the hope I could finish a few more pieces and make it a proper event, but finally setting it loose sounds like a much better idea.

Pairing: Murphy x reader

Summary: Murphy isn't the only one in trouble when he runs his mouth

Word count: 1100ish

Tags: language, teasing, dirty talk, Murphy MacManus is a little shit

The crowd at McGinty's was loud and rowdy, but Murphy leaned in closer so she wouldn't miss a word. "Ye look fuckin amazing," he whispered, smiling as she giggled at the way his breath tickled her skin.

"I barely cleaned up after work," she argued as she gave him a playful shove back over onto his own barstool.

"Ye cleaned up just fine, love," Connor assured her on Murphy's other side. He winked at her as he tapped ash off the end of his cigarette and leaned against the bar. "Ye know ye always look lovely ta us. Now, this fucker, on the other hand…" He jabbed an elbow into Murphy's ribs, and Murphy smacked him over the back of the head in retaliation.

"Just fine," the dark-haired twin scoffed. "Fuckin jackass. Ye're a lot more than 'just fine.' Ye're the finest fuckin thing I've clapped eyes on, an that's a fact."

"How drunk are you, Murph?" she asked with a smile.

"Not even close." He finished off his beer and Doc replaced it without a word, but he hardly noticed, focused as he was on the woman beside him. "So...fuckin...beautiful," he said, and he leaned forward to bury his fingers in her hair and pull her close for a long kiss. She melted into it with a sigh before he drew away again and added, "If we weren't at this fuckin bar, I'd already have ye outta those clothes an beggin me ta fuck ye."

"Murphy!" The admonishment was in a sharp whisper, but her pleased smile belied her reprimand.

"Aye," he went on, "it's true. Been hard for ye since ye walked in here."

"Ssh!" She glanced at Doc, the closest potential eavesdropper, but he had already moved down the bar. "What if someone hears you talking like that?"

"Fuck em. What if we sneak off ta the bathroom an lock the door, an I eat yer pussy til ye're moanin my name? Ye think they'll hear us then?"

She made frantic shushing gestures with her hands, her expression caught between scandalized and aroused.

Murphy edged his barstool closer to hers and wrapped an arm around her, and she was tempted to take him up on his offer by the way he bent his head to her neck and kissed, bit, and sucked at her skin. "Christ, love," he murmured, "the things I wanna do to ye…"

"Lord's name, Murphy," she reminded him. She glanced over at Connor, watching them from his place on Murphy's other side, and he merely shrugged at her with a look that said he'd be in his twin's place already if Murphy hadn't beaten him to it.

"Not ta worry, lass, there's always confession." Murphy's hand slid under her shirt, palm warm against her soft skin as he moved to the small of her back and drew her closer. "An speakin a which," he added softly, "I need ta confess…" His mouth moved up along her neck until he could whisper directly into her ear, "I haven't stopped thinkin about how fuckin good it feels when ye come on my cock since the last time I had ye."

"Murph, that was last night."

"Aye, an I've been thinkin about it ever since."

"You need a hobby."

"Shaggin the livin daylights outta ye is my hobby."

"You need another hobby."

He had all but pulled her into his lap, and she braced with a hand against the bar as he leaned in for a kiss, lips and tongue still tasting of Guinness. "If no one was watchin…" he murmured.

"They are," she reminded him, though she couldn't say if she really cared anymore.

"I'd strip ye bare a little at a time," he went on, "and taste every inch of ye as I did, until I could get ta that beautiful pussy…"

She felt dizzy just listening to him and imagining him doing everything he was saying, or maybe Connor as well, because he still hadn't taken his eyes off her and Murphy.

"I'd tease ye open with my tongue," Murphy continued, pausing to kiss her again and run the tip of his tongue along the seam of her lips, "then I'd get a proper taste of ye, an ye'd be so sweet I couldn't help but devour ye."

Her breath caught in her throat, and she shifted slightly on the barstool. God, she was wet…

"I'd suck yer clit until ye squirmed, and fuck ye with my fingers, but I wouldn't let ye come right away."

"Why not?" she asked. She probably knew the answer, but the way he was talking, he might as well say that, too.

"I'd get ye close," he answered, lifting his hand to trace her mouth with the tip of his thumb. "As close as I dared, over an over again until ye're ready ta rip me fuckin lungs out for teasing ye."

She nodded and bit her lip as she tried to ignore the needy ache in her cunt. "Yeah?"

"Aye. An just when ye couldn't take anymore, ye know what I'd do?"

He was killing her… "What would you do?"

He leaned in closer, his eyes piercing into her. "I'd get the fuck outta my clothes as fast as I fuckin could, an I'd ask ye…"

"Yeah?"

That gaze was so intense…

"I'd ask ye, between me an Connor, who do ye think has the bigger cock?"

Connor burst out laughing.

She stared at Murphy, rattled by the conversation and blindsided by the sudden turn, then she turned back to the bar. "Doc!" she called. "Murphy needs to close his tab!"

"What?" Murphy asked, brow furrowed. "What the fuck for?"

"Because," she answered as she looked him over, "you and I are going to get out of here and go home, and I'm going to wind you up and drive you batshit fucking crazy, then leave you hanging until you've had a taste of your own medicine."

"I've warned ye, Murph," Connor chimed in from the stool next door, "ye keep teasing the lass the way ye do, it'll bite ye in the arse."

Murphy glanced between his brother and their lover, his stunned expression nearly comical.

She leaned in and combed her fingers into his hair to pull him close enough to whisper in his ear, "You still want a taste of my pussy, right?"

He swallowed audibly, and she could have laughed at how quickly the tables had turned. "Aye," he answered, "I do."

"Well, then." She gave him a kiss on the cheek and slowly walked away. "You better come get it."

Murphy only hesitated another moment before he paid his tab and hurried after her to leave Connor sitting at the bar, watching after them and shaking his head. He'd give them some time alone before he headed home. She deserved her revenge, and Murphy had earned some payback.