#murphy macmanus x fem!reader

[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.

[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.”

[dixonsdarkelf]

She’s Got Your Eyes: Murphy MacManus & Fem!Reader

Main masterlist Murphy x Reader Masterlist AO3 link

I thought Tumblr needed some Dad!Murphy, so for my first Murphy fic, I took it upon myself to make it happen! Constructive criticism is appreciate and okay, but please be gentle or I’ll cry. I hope y’all love my take on brand-new dad!Murphy 🖤

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 629

Warnings: Pregnancy stuff, mentions of breastfeeding, Reader has a uterus and just gave birth, barely proofread (not the norm for me lol)

The moment you and Murphy first laid eyes on each other on that faithful December eve at McGinty’s, it was love at first sight. There was an unspoken connection between you two, and that one encounter morphed from texting to phone calls to dates and more.

That night felt like a lifetime ago. Now, hundreds of kisses, many late nights, and one wedding-of-the-century later, you were in the delivery room, having just welcomed your first child—a beautiful, healthy baby girl—into the world. Together, you chose the name Myrna Isabella Murphy, Myrna meaning “affection or endearment” and Isabella meaning “pledged to God.”

Both of your families had already come by to say hi, each one seemingly more excited than the last. Conner was a mess, doing his best to keep it together for the sake of you two. However, he was so enamored by his new niece, with her big eyes staring up at him, he nearly broke down while holding her. But no one could compete with the amount of tears shed by you & your husband.

Now, it was just the three of you, basking in the afterglow of a long and intense labor. Murphy was in the arm chair, cradling your daughter to give you some space after feeding.

“Hi sweetheart,” he cooed as he adjusted the blanket around her. The words sounded even sweeter with that accent dripping off of them.

You couldn’t help but smile at him, the man you’d fallen in love with all those years ago, and the soft noises emanating from the little baby in his arms. Despite all the pain you’d just gone through, everything about this moment was perfect, and it was like you were falling in love all over again.

“She’s got your eyes,” he commented, breaking his gaze from Myrna for just a moment to meet yours, “got that same sparkle yours has.”

“She’s got your nose,” you mused, your infectious giggle lacing every word. The warmth spreading through your chest as you watched him with your daughter was unlike anything you’d felt before. “We did good.”

He cocked an eyebrow as he stood, rocking Myrna in his arms as he held her to his chest. “We? You did all the work, lass.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you.” Your voice was soft, silky, a ‘thank you’ all on its own without even having to utter the words.

“Quite literally,” he chuckled, a playful smirk appearing on his face.

“You’re funny,” you remarked as he gently said on the edge of the bed by you, “I meant the day-to-day stuff, doting on me for the last nine months. Not to mention all the doctor’s appointments.”

“It’s nothin’, you know that.” He propped Myrna up with his hand, taking one of yours in the other. “Would’ve done anythin’ you asked.”

“I know.” You gave him hand a gentle squeeze, which he returned. The smiles on your faces was enough to light the entire city of Boston. “Thank you, baby. For everything.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” he replied, nodding toward the little one, “for her.”

You were sure you’d run out of tears before that, but your body and mind had other plans. They began streaming down your face again, catching in your hair, your mouth, your gown. But you didn’t mind one bit. “I love you, Murph.”

He wiped a stream of tears from your cheek, cradling Myrna tight against him before leaning over to kiss your forehead. It was tender, sweet, and full of adoration, just like it always was. But there was more this time. There was all of those feelings for you, but also for his daughter. And a gratitude to you for giving him the best gift he could ever receive. “Love you more, lass.”

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[mayday2007]

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Requests are open, so ask away people!

Smut-❤️‍🔥 ✧~◎

Angst-💙 ✧~◎

Fluff-💗 ✧~◎

Twd:

Daryl Dixon ~†~

Rick grimes ~†~

Shane walsh ~†~

Blade II:

Joshua 'scud' Fromeyer ~†~

The boondock saints:

Murphy MacManus ~†~

I write for the following:

Twd: Daryl, Rick, Shane

Blade II: Joshua 'scud' Frohmeyer

The boondock saints: Murphy MacManus

Pretty much any character Norman reedus plays(but not normie himself,he is a real person with children and I will set myself on fire if he ever finds this blog😭)

That's about it for my tiny master list 😄

THE WRITING TROPES THAT I DO NOT FEEL COMFORTABLE WRITING/REFUSE TO WRITE INCLUDE BUT ARE NOT LIMITED TO THE FOLLOWING:

★Non-con

★Incest

★Dub-con

★Stepcest

★Huge age gaps(where the reader is like 18 and any of the characters are like 40 or above)

★Hardcore degradation to the extent it's abusive

★Piss kinks

★Abdl

★Foot fetishes

★Ddlg

★(i also don't write for x male! reader)

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@holdmytesseract @liliesdiary @mx-pastelwriting @vaniniweenie @dixons-sunshine @janiehellion @marvelcassey05 @ophelialaufey

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[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

I’ll Throw Away My Faith, Babe, Just to Keep You Safe

Part 1

Pairing: Murphy MacManus x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Violence; Blood and injury; That damn iron; Suggestive themes

Summary: “If love is what you need, a soldier I will be”

A/N: Finally, after a year. I hope it was worth the wait. I'm a little proud of it, so I hope you are too.

“Supermarkets are the worst.” You had just returned from grocery shopping, placing one bag at your feet in order to fish your keys from your pocket. Door unlocked, you went inside and placed the first bag on the countertop and returned for the next. Your fingers had just gripped the top of the bag when the old elevator dinged and two men stumbled out. 

“Still with me, dear brother?” The one with lighter hair asked in a thick Irish accent. He was all but dragging the second man against his side. Both were bleeding. You had only seen that amount of blood on a person in the movies. 

“Aye.” The man with the darker hair rasped without lifting his head. You barely heard it. 

“Hey, uh—should I call an ambulance?” You straightened, groceries all but forgotten in favor of possibly being of some assistance. 

“Kind of you, lass, but we’ll be just fine once we—” The light-haired one staggered when any aid the other offered in carrying his own weight suddenly vanished. “Murph? Murphy? Fuck!” Their trek to their own unit had come to an abrupt halt, the dark-haired one now limp as a ragdoll. 

“I’m calling an ambulance!” You had barely stepped into your door when he called after you, a frantic edge to his voice. 

“I beg you, please don’t.” He adjusted his grip on the other, still appearing as if the weight might take him down. 

“Are you, uh—are the two of you in some sort of trouble?” That was a ridiculous question.  There were bloody prints leading from the elevator, their clothes saturated, rivulets dripping onto the cheap linoleum flooring. “Just—here, come inside.” He studied you with narrowed blue eyes. You could tell a refusal sat on the tip of his tongue, but the other man coughed in a spray of crimson. 

“Damnit.” He cursed. 

You snatched up the other bag of groceries and jogged over to the countertop, depositing it roughly. You needed a blanket, towels, water, and your pitiful excuse for a first aid kit. “Blanket. Blanket, blanket, blanket.” The top of the hallway closet was difficult to reach for you, half the contents spilling out onto your head when you tugged on the quilt’s edge. 

“Let me put this on the couch. You can lay him there.” You rambled quickly in passing. The man was dragging the other with some measure of difficulty and had just crossed into the doorway as you spread out the blanket. Without really thinking, you sprinted over to drape the other arm across your shoulder and take some of the burden. 

“Thank you, lass. Heavier than he looks, my brother.”

The trek to the couch was more coordinated with your help and soon the stranger was lying prone, breaths shallow and skin pale. There was so much blood but it was alarmingly obvious that it was not all his. 

“I have a first aid kit but I’m not sure it’ll—”

“Have all we need in our own place. Start cleaning what you can see, I’ll fetch the iron and bandages.”

You blinked, your hand stilling just over the man’s shirt. “Iron? As in tablets or—?”

He shrugged, expression grim. “I’m Connor. That’s my brother Murphy.”

“I’m—” He was already gone. “I’m Y/N.” You sighed and started picking at the saturated clothing. Most of the injuries were shallow, superficial. The bullet wound to his left flank, however, was immediate cause for concern. It was not through and through.  “Okay, Murphy. It’d be nice to get some answers because my boring day just got really interesting, really fast and my head isn’t equipped for this much chaos.”

Using the scissors from the kit, you cut away his shirt and spread the two sides. A rosary hung from his neck, long enough to slide from his chest and over his arm. You didn’t remove it, that didn’t feel right. Handling it carefully, you let it hang over the couch arm. By the time Connor returned, you had wiped away most of the blood and were pressing a towel against the hole in his side. 

He placed an iron—that’s a fucking iron iron—on the coffee table with some gauze. As he drew away his hand, you noticed the blood seeping out from beneath the sleeve of his black coat, dripping from the tips of his fingers. 

“Are you hurt too?” 

“Aye, but it’ll keep. Murph first.” Connor hovered, blue eyes flitting back and forth between the saturated towel and his brother’s slack face. 

“You realize I have no idea what I’m doing, right?” You lifted the towel and winced at the thick crimson bubble that broke into a stream trickling down his side. 

“Between the two of us, we’ll have him right as rain, lass.” 

“Right.” You sighed heavily, pressing the towel against the wound once again. “I suppose the bullet needs to come out.”

“Aye.” He scrubbed his unsullied hand over his face. 

“And how exactly do we do that?” The corner of your bottom lip found its way between your teeth. How exactly did you end up in this position? Two strangers, bruised and bleeding, in your apartment. Sure, you weren’t exactly in the best neighborhood and you didn’t own a penthouse, but the place had proven to be safe enough. Mostly quiet. 

You had never seen the men before. You knew there were other tenants, but you had never met any of them. You were perfectly content in your little bubble of solitude. 

But then there you were, a man bleeding out on your couch, his brother using a pair of needle-nose pliers to dig into a gunshot wound—thank god you had managed to take it long enough to clean the tool with some rubbing alcohol. 

“Got it.” He announced triumphantly, holding up the bloody slug. Both were discarded onto your coffee table as if it were a surgical tray. The unconscious brother hadn’t moved an inch, his skin pale, clammy, and damp with perspiration. He didn’t look well at all. 

“Are you sure about an ambulance? He isn’t looking so hot.” You were headed toward the kitchen, hastily grabbing a dish towel and wetting it under the tap. 

“I’m sure, lass.” Connor replied. When you returned, he was plugging the cord of the iron into the socket closest to the couch. 

“Whoa, whoa, wait!” You slid onto the couch by Murphy’s hip folding the towel. “You’re not actually going to burn him, are you?” Dabbing the sweat from the other man’s forehead, you felt nauseous at seeing Connor approach from the corner of your eye. “Can’t we just stitch it?” 

“He’s bleedin’, love. It’s needin’ to be stopped.”

“Shit.” Choosing to stay seated where you were, you helped shift Murphy onto his right side but swiftly turned your head as the iron came down. The sizzling sound was horrible enough but the second the smell of burning flesh wafted into your nostrils, you gagged. How was Murphy remaining unconscious through it?

“It’s done.” 

“Good. Go me for keeping down my lunch.” You panted. “Let’s, uh—let’s get him all bandaged and then I can look at you.” Connor nodded, gingerly removing his coat. “Don’t expect me to use the iron.”

The apartment was cast in shadows, the moon beginning its shift. Connor had fallen asleep not long after you had, indeed, used the iron on his arm. Unfortunately, your lunch did not survive the second onslaught of burning flesh. 

You had finally been granted an opportunity to put away your groceries. Why you had also felt the need to clean up the blood in the hall and the elevator was beyond you, though the crimson trail leading right to your door might have had something to do with it. It was a miracle no one had been on the lift since the brothers. Well, not really. The building had few tenants. After that task, you had told yourself to keep your eyes on the men, but the sight and smell of blood on your skin proved to be very persuasive in the mental argument on whether or not to shower. 

Your hair was still damp by the time you sank into the chair opposite of where Connor slept. The brothers were exhausted, as were you, but at least you had no injuries. You’d love nothing more than to crawl into your bed, but showering was one thing. Sleeping was an entirely different matter. 

Maybe you should have called the cops. It was logical. These men were obviously into some bad stuff. Still, there was something about them, something you couldn’t put your finger on. Something good. To sense something like that when one of them had yet to speak to you—well, it was curious. 

And curiosity killed the cat. 

Lost in your thoughts, you must have allowed your eyes to close at some point. The next moment of awareness you could identify was met with a deep groan. Connor was still asleep in the same position you had last seen him. Murphy, however, was sitting up, arms draped across his knees with his head hanging. 

“Murphy?” You uttered, sliding to the edge of your chair. 

He was a little slow to react, expression dazed as he sought you out. He lingered on Connor for a moment, the little tension—you hadn’t even noticed—in his shoulders visibly dissipated. Once his gaze found you, you immediately noticed how the moonlight made the same blue eyes you had seen on Connor appear more silver. 

“Who are you?” He croaked, clearing his throat with a hand flying to his left side. 

“I’m Y/N. I, uh—your brother brought you here.” Feeling nervous without Connor awake to corroborate your story, you rubbed at the back of your neck. “You were really hurt and he didn’t want an ambulance.” 

“Turn us in then, will you?”

“If I was going to turn you in, I would have done it before the iron was plugged in.” You curled your lip at the memory of the stench. “I think I’m traumatized.” The man chuckled quietly, dropping his head again. “Is there anything I can get for you?”

“Aye.” He sounded exhausted. Being unconscious was likely not as restful as a decent night’s sleep. “Water would be nice, lass.” 

“Sure.” Pushing yourself out of the chair, you crossed in front of him on your way to the kitchen. His hand moved faster than you thought him capable of given his current state, wrapping around your wrist in a touch that could only be described as tender. You jerked to a halt and dropped your head to regard him, finding him looking right back at you. God, the man was handsome.

“Thank you.” He offered, his accent thick and sweet like honey. You barely suppressed a shiver. “Truly.”

“It’s no big deal.” It was very much a big deal. You had no idea what you were getting yourself into, but you were surprised to find that when he let go, you missed the warmth of his touch, replaced by the tingle it left in its wake. Maybe you had been alone too long. That had to be it. With a soft upward tilt of your lips, you continued to the kitchen, the glass quickly filled to the brim and spilling over onto your hand whilst you found yourself staring at the dark-haired brother. No, you had no idea what you were getting yourself into, but you were quickly going to find out.

“I’m not saying it’s wrong, I’m just saying that not everyone wants to get wasted just because it’s Saint Patrick’s Day.” You smiled over the rim of your glass, opting for a soda instead of beer, much to the MacManus brothers’ dismay.

“You bite your tongue, lass.” Connor feigned offense, a hand splayed dramatically over his chest. Murphy was shaking his head beside his twin.

“Oh, stop clutching your pearls, Con.” You jested, throwing a foot out from the rest at the lower part of the stool to playfully nudge the toe of your boot against his shin.

“Everyone’s Irish on Saint Patty’s day, love.” With a nod toward Doc, another beer was slid straight into Murphy's hand. “It won’t hurt you to have a little fun.” When he stepped into your space to offer the drink, you had no control when your eyes flitted to his lips and back, orbs dancing back and forth as if comparing the two pools of brilliant blue that stared with a suffocating intensity. The corner of his mouth slid up into a smirk that had you tingling in all the right places.

Over the past few months, you had grown close to the brothers, more so with Murphy. He would separate himself from his twin to visit your apartment more than you visited theirs. Quiet conversations, moving closer to one another on the couch with each social call. It wasn’t long before you were perched with your legs folded beneath you, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, and your head on his chest. It was just dialogue, catching one another up on the events of the day. 

He was open about their efforts to rid the city of those that caused harm to the innocent. While you didn’t understand how they could just walk around, unbothered and unrecognized, you found yourself comfortable with what they did. You helped treat their wounds and offered your apartment as a safe haven, should one of their targets send someone to act violently in their stead. The aggressors had no reason to suspect you. Aside from the bar, you were never seen with them. Murphy made sure of it.

“Just one drink, lass.” He insisted. You knew he would back off if you said the word, so you didn’t feel pressured, just persuaded. With a roll of your eyes, you lifted the glass to your mouth and made a show of taking the first sip. “Hurá!” He exclaimed, weaving his arms underneath yours to lift you off the stool. 

“Murphy!” Your beer sloshed in the glass, spilling over the rim and onto your jacket. “Aw, man!” You pouted, opting to stand when he attempted to place you back on the stool. You unzipped and pulled off the article with a huff, revealing your bright green shirt with gold lettering of Kiss Me, I’m Irish. 

“What’s this, love?” Murphy chuckled, his eyes so obviously on your chest. 

“It’s a shirt. More specifically, those are my boobs.” His eyes flitted up to your face, that smirk returning. The man had no shame. For Catholics, the brothers had some questionable morals. 

The drinking went on well after the doors had been locked and the open sign extinguished. You were still nursing your first beer—barely buzzed—the twins too drunk to notice. It was your first Saint Patrick’s Day with the small group, Doc the only one other than you that was resembling anything close to sober. 

When the dark-haired brother staggered toward you, throwing an arm across your shoulders and pulling you into his side, you decided they needed to be cut off. 

“Okay, boys, last call.”

Romeo was protesting loudly to the old man, but your focus was on the brothers. While you knew you needed to accompany them home, it would be the first time you would be with them on the streets. 

Before you could give it too much thought, Murphy was spinning you, hands on your shoulders at arm's length, eyes unfocused and a drunken flush to his cheeks. With a face too serious to be genuine, he ran a finger over the golden four leaf clover just below your breasts. 

“Tell me, love. Do you have any Irish in you?” His attempt at stoicism was bellied by his slurred syllables. 

“No, Murph. I don’t.” 

“Would you care for some?” A lopsided smile formed regardless of his obvious attempts to hold it at bay. You patted his arm with a shake of your head. 

“You’re wasted. Time to get you boys home.” There was a shimmer of disappointment in those blue eyes, so profound that you almost wished you could show your own dismay. Your feelings for Murphy were strong—unnamed but strong. It had been years since your last relationship, one so devastating that you weren’t sure what love was supposed to feel like anymore. Maybe you were simply drawn to his mystery, his ability to make you feel anything at all. 

“It’s early yet.” It was a weak argument, the pout he pinned you with proving his knowledge of it. 

You pointed toward the door and grabbed your jacket.  “Walk, MacManus.” The man grumbled beneath his breath but still staggered to where Connor impatiently protested by the door. 

“Get a room, little brother.” He slurred. 

“I came out first. Settled this, I thought.” Murphy was quick to correct. 

Rolling your eyes as the bickering continued, you steered both of them out the door, calling back a night, Doc over your shoulder. The night air was still chilly for March. You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself, the scent of beer strong from the spilled drink earlier. 

“What’s on your mind, love?” You felt the weight of Murphy’s arm across your shoulders before you even realized he had shifted closer, his stumbling pushing you off balance. 

“The hope of staying vertical while chaperoning a set of drunk twins.” Using your elbow, you pushed him aside, reaching for his black peacoat to keep him on his feet. Chuckling, you wound your arm around through his. “Let’s just focus on getting you two home and in bed.”

“Whoa there, lass.” Connor interjected, his arm falling around your shoulders. “We draw the line at falling into bed together with one woman.” 

“Oh my god!” You threw back your head with a drawn out exasperated noise. “You’re insufferable.” Bracketed between the brothers, you kept up the slow pace toward the apartment building. 

With Conner face-down and snoring into his pillow, you turned your attention toward Murphy, who was currently attempting to fight his way out of his coat. Your smile was fond, your capable hands grabbing his forearms. 

“Wait, wait, wait.” You laughed, stilling his movements. His lopsided smile never wavered while you helped him. “Stop smiling, you idiot.”

“You’d rather I frown then?” The deliberate pout was something beyond adorable. With a snort, you dislodged his arms and held out the article of clothing. 

“Time for bed, Murph.” Rubbing his left eye with a fist, the Irishman finally appeared as if he would acquiesce. “Goodnight.” Your arms slid around his neck and you squeezed lightly. As you made to retreat, his own arm slid around your waist and held fast. “Murphy?”

“Stay.” He had angled his head, his lips against the shell of your ear. You could smell the Guiness and cigarettes on his breath, a surprising tonic that made him almost irresistible. 

Almost. 

“I need to go. And you need to sleep.” His other arm wrapped around the middle of your back, both holding loosely. You knew he’d release you if you willed it. 

“Stay.” He said again, nuzzling the side of your head. The heat of his body was rapidly melting your defenses. The last thing you wanted was to wake up to Connor’s jibing at Murphy’s expense—though it wouldn’t be the first time. The two were just such children sometimes. 

However, as his hands languidly explored your back, you felt that snuggling was not what was on his mind that night. That made it easy to unwrap yourself from his hold and step out of reach. Though you had told yourself long ago that you would take that leap with him without hesitation should he ever offer, he was drunk. It wasn’t even a consideration. 

“You don’t want me to stay, Murph. Not like this.” Needing one last touch, you patted his cheek and nearly melted when he leaned into your palm. 

“I do, lass.” He retorted, staggering when your hand pulled away. You chuckled. 

“If you still feel that way in the morning, you know where to find me.”

“Y/N.” He called as you opened the door, pausing to cast him a gentle smile, disappointment hiding just behind it. 

“Goodnight, Murphy.” Once in the hall, you pressed your back against the door and closed your eyes. If only the words could have left a sober tongue, you would have stayed. No, you would have invited him back to your own apartment where privacy wouldn’t have been a concern. 

You wondered how his lips would feel on yours as you pulled out your keys and unlocked your door. How would his hands feel on your skin? His mouth? How would he taste? You imagined the sounds he would make, the breaths and moans. 

Slamming your keys down onto the countertop, you shook your head. “Get a grip, Y/N! He’s your best friend and he’s drunk!” When a whisper of your name, breathless and blissed out echoed in your head, you muttered to yourself, “okay, I need a cold shower.”

The water was lukewarm at best, but did little to cool your skin, flushed with arousal. You shouldn’t have been thinking of Murphy as you lathered up your body, or when your hand ventured between your thighs, but you couldn’t help it. He was all you had ever wanted: kind, loyal, funny, and exquisitely handsome. Reaching the precipice within moments, it didn’t take long for the shame to descend upon you, the guilt of imagining your friend in such a manner. 

“Fuck.” You cursed your weakness, the fragility of your defenses when it came to the opposite sex. You had been burned so many times that it was only natural to assume that anything changing in your relationship with the man—including those depraved thoughts—would destroy what you had built with him.

Clean—at least physically—you crawled into bed and pulled your sheets up to your chin, covering your face with your hands. This had to stop. You were torturing yourself, it was bound to seep into reality eventually, ruining everything and ejecting him from your life. 

It wasn’t until there came a knock on your door that you jolted awake, only then realizing that you had fallen asleep. The morning light crept across the floor and laid warm against the sheets. You could stay there, warm and safe, and you could stay away from Murphy—at least until you could rid yourself of your yearning for him and what could never be. 

The knock came again. 

It was early, maybe 6am. The boys wouldn’t have even rolled over in their beds. So who was at your door?

“Hold your horses!” You barked, clambering out of bed and grabbing blindly for your robe. The front untied, you were in your camisole, sleep shorts, and bunny slippers, the soles loudly scuffing the floor as you reached for the doorknob. “Yeah?” You asked lazily, scratching at your disheveled mane with one eye closed. 

The man wasn’t small. He was big and burly, donned in a trench coat over his button-up and slacks, the shoulder rig holding his twin pistols visible just behind the double breasted buttons. His grin was wicked. 

“You’re not here to sell me Girl Scout cookies, are you?” You squeaked, immediately attempting to slam the door but he was faster with a boot over the threshold. “Mur—” You tried to yell before he tackled you with a hand over your mouth. 

“Boys!” He grunted, his meaty fingers nearly covering your nose as well. It was difficult to breathe. Three more men entered, gazing around your apartment. None of their weapons were drawn. There was no way they could know that the boys lived just down the hall. “Give it a good going over. We want them to know that we were here.” His thick accent was easily recognizable. Italian. 

Your eyes watered from how wide you held them, watching the goons raze your possessions as you were hauled to your feet, hand still silencing you.

“Are we gonna kill her, Luca? Send a message?” One of the men asked as he stepped on your jewelry box. You began to struggle, shouting behind the large palm until the cold muzzle of a gun was pressed roughly into your temple. 

“Not unless she doesn’t leave us a choice.” Then his sour breath was against your ear, the biting metal of the gun grinding against your skull. “You hear that, doll? You be a good girl and you’ll get to live. For now, at least.” He released you and uncovered your mouth, and you sank your teeth into your lip.

Yeah, fuck that. 

Stomping his foot, you threw back a fist and connected with his groin, bolting for the door when he doubled over with a shout. 

“Murphy! Murphy, Connor! Help! Mur—” Your path was blocked, a hand fisting into your hair to slam you against the unforgiving wall. 

“Don’t kill her!” Luca ordered, catching his breath with a hand still cupping his crotch. “Boss wants her alive. Bait for the Saints.” Once he recovered, the bastard grabbed your arm and sharply yanked you away from the other man. The back of his hand snapped your head to the side. You fell onto your hip, catching yourself on your hands with a misting spray of blood from your mouth. “Behave, bitch, or I’ll just have to tell the boss that you pulled a gun and I had to put a few holes in you.”

“Fuck you.” You spat. 

“Maybe. We’ll see how the night goes.” He smirked, slapping your throbbing cheek with a mocking pat before giving the room a once over. “That’s enough. Let’s get out of here before—”

The first shot came from the doorway, the sound muted by the long silencer on a handgun held just in view. The thump of a body hitting the floor from your right made you flinch. Murphy was still fully dressed, t-shirt and jeans rumpled from sleep, while Connor donned only his boxer shorts. Not exactly rescue attire, but you would laugh about it later. 

Hopefully. 

“Get down, lass!” Connor shouted as he stepped into the room. After an elbow to Luca’s gut, you dropped and curled in on yourself, arms wrapping around your head. 

You didn’t dare watch the scene, the gunfire being enough of a motivator to keep you pinned to the floor. Something heavy hit your thigh and drew out a cry of protest. That was going to leave a bruise but it was substantially better than a bullet wound. If some contusions and lacerations were the extent of your injuries, you’d be fortunate. 

Your belongings were shattering, wall plaster crumbling. There was shouting, wails of pain and rage. And you were cowering on the cold floor, your thoughts a myriad of fear, distress. The brothers could be dying and you were doing nothing. 

Three quick huffs through your mouth, you amped yourself up but just as you unfolded, the room went silent. Was it over? Where were the boys? Palms on the floor, you dared to raise your head just as a hand softly gripped your arm. You drew back a fist. Fight or flight had been activated and you’d be damned if you’d run. 

“Easy, love.” Murphy’s hand wrapped around your clenched one, gently urging you to lower it. “It’s over. You’re safe, but we need to leave.” Striking blue eyes gave you a once over. “Can you stand?” You nodded. “Up we get then.”

“Are you okay?” You inquired, dizzy with concern and a possible concussion. There was a cut on his cheek,—the graze of a bullet—blood trickling down his jaw. 

“Right as rain, lass.” His hand dropped yours in favor of clasping your chin, turning your head left and right. You still tasted the iron on your tongue, felt the sting of the hand that had struck you. 

“Fine. I’m fine.”

Connor shuffling behind him, Murphy narrowed his eyes. It was a moment before he seemed to accept your response and stepped around to your side. Hand pressed against the small of your back, he steered you towards the door. 

“Let’s go then.”

[thatwriterchaotic]

Noisy Neighbors Chapter 5

Omg finally an update for this series. I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to write another chapter. I've always loved this series I just didn't know where to take it. Anyways let me stop rambling and let you all enjoy this chapter.

Summary: Tonight was your date with Murphy. He told you to get dressed and he would be by at 8 to pick you up. You couldn't wait for what tonight would lead too.

Pairing: Murphy MacManus x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: [18+], slow burn, complicated feelings, miscommunication, fluff, little bit of angst because why not. drinking, cursing, mentions of drug use, smoking.

Your POV:

Tonight's the night. Your date with Murphy was finally here. You had been waiting all week for this. Your job had been taking up a lot of your time lately. Apparently a big story about these two brothers was going around. Saving Boston from the mob and how they were heros. You didn't pay much attention to it. Other than looking over and editing papers at your journalist job. You sighed and glanced at the clock getting lost in your thoughts. It was about an hour and a half before Murphy would be coming to pick you up.

You got up from your bed, deciding it would be time to get ready. Heading towards your bathroom to take a shower. A faint buzz came from your phone in your pocket. You smiled seeing it was a text from Murphy.

Murph <3

“Can't wait to see you tonight beautiful ;)”

You giggled and set your phone on the counter. Feeling your heart race with excitement. You got into the shower and washed your hair. Then your body. Then the annoying part was shaving. Once you were all finished. You turned off the water and wrapped a towel around your body. Grabbing another to dry off your hair the best you could.

An hour had gone by and you had just finished your make up. Making sure everything was perfect just for Murphy. You wore a simple knee length dress. A small slit on one side. A cute pattern of small strawberries spread out across it. The skinny straps and the sweetheart neckline accentuated your chest. Making it look absolutely stunning on you. The last thing you needed to do was slip on your shoes and grab your purse.

You jumped a little hearing the sound of a car horn go off. Knowing that must have been Murphy waiting for you. You rushed and slipped on your simple black heels and grabbed your purse. Rushing out of your apartment and down the stairs. You could feel your heart hammering in your chest when you approached the car. Wondering if he borrowed it from Doc. Seeing it was a much older model and the boys rarely drove. You smiled as Murphy stepped out and went to your side. Opening the door for you.

“After you Madam” Murphy said with a smile. He thought you looked absolutely stunning in that dress. The way it shaped your body so perfectly. He had to adjust his pants a bit after you got in the car. You watched as Murphy walked back around and climbed into the driver's seat. “So where are you taking me tonight?” You asked finally wanting to know what his plans are. Murphy smirked and looked over at you. “It's a surprise, and you look absolutely stunning in that dress las” Murphy said sweetly. His cheeks a soft shade of a pink.

You couldn't help but smile from his compliment. He didn't look too bad himself. Freshly shaven besides his normal goatee. His hair was brushed just right, besides a few strands that stood out of place. Which you found adorable. He was dressed in a white button up and a pair of clean black slacks. And of course his signature black trench coat that he never left without. He looked so handsome, it was kind of hard to take your eyes away from him.

“Says you, did you get all dressed up just for me?” You asked softly, noticing how his cheeks and the tips of his ears turned a darker shade of red. He nodded shyly and placed his hand on your tigh. His thumb gently caressing it. “Had to look good for you, mo ghrà” Murphy said with a smirk as he started up the car. Leaning over to peck the side of your cheek softly. That made your heart flutter. Seeing Murphy being so sweet was new. Yes, he wasn't a major flirt unlike Connor but it was nice to seem him be serious about their date.

Eventually they arrived to their destination. Murphy helped you to get out of the car. Demanding that you covered your eyes until they got inside. You thought it was silly but you listened to him. Even though you did stumble a little as he guided you out of the car and onto the side walk. Then inside of a building, hearing a door shut behind you. Murphys hands rested on your shoulders and then up towards your hands that where covering your eyes. “You can look now, I hope you like it” He whispered softly into your ear as he slowly pulled your hands away from your eyes.

Your eyes settled as you looked around. Realizing that it was McGinty’s but completely different. A single table for two placed in the center of the room. A simple tablecloth with candles and flowers placed in the middle. Some petals laid scattered around the floor. The lights where dimmed just right adding to the romantic atmosphere. It was perfect. Everything was perfect.

You turned around facing Murphy, tears threatening to well up in your eyes. “You did all this for me?” You asked. Murphy noticed the tears, he quickly cupped your cheeks and wiped them away. “Of course I did las, and hey no crying don't want to ruin your make up” He teased making you both laugh softly. You smiled and leaned in. His forehead resting against yours.

How about we sit and enjoy the dinner I have for us? Go get ice cream for dessert after” Murphy spoke softly as he kisses your forehead. You nodded as he moved to pull your chair out for you before he sat down. He was being such a gentleman. You sat down as Murphy set two plates on the table. It looked delicious. You both sat there quietly at first. Glancing at one another from across the table. Soft music played in the background. He was really trying to make this perfect for you. “Wow Murphy, I'm really impressed by all of this” You said softly. He smiled as he opened a bottle of wine. Pouring a glass for you and then himself.

“Only for you, wanted to prove to you how much I care about you” He admitted as he lifted his glass, taking a sip from it. You watched as his lips wrapped around the edge of the glass. Your mind going else where. God he looked so good in that white button up. The first two where undone. Catching a glimpse of his tan skin underneath it. You felt your legs squeeze together slightly as your cheeks ran hot. Both of you started to eat. Talking back and forth about work and how your day was. It was nice to talk about mundane things with him.

As the date went on Murphy became bolder. His arm laid across the table, holding your hand in his. His thumb gently caressing your knuckles. He seemed to be genuinely intrigued about your work and what you enjoyed in your free time. You couldn't seem to pull yourself away from those piercing baby blue eyes. The way his lips turned up into his slightly crooked smile. You felt yourself swoon over him. “C'mon love, let's go get some ice cream” Murphy said as he stood up. His hand still holding yours in his. You giggled softly in excitement as you left McGinty's and started walking towards the park.

It didn't take long until your feet started killing you in your heels. You whined softly and Murphy stopped looking at you. “you okay las? Something wrong?” He asked noticing your discomfort. “It's my heels, they are killing my feet” You complained. Next thing you know Murphy picked you up bridal style. His arm resting underneath your legs and the other tightly wrapped around you so you wouldn't fall. “Murphy!! You don't have to carry me” You protested first until he looked at you with that loving look in his eyes. “Nah, you barely weigh a thing and I'm not having my lady be in pain.” He said sweetly. Loving the way you fit perfectly in his arms. Like you where meant to be there.

Hearing him call you his lady made your heart pound in your chest. You liked hearing him call you that. “Say that again” You asked. Murphy smiled “Soo you do want to be my lady?” He teased loving the way that your cheeks would flush each time. “Say it again Murphy” You begged. He chuckled and repeated himself. “My lady, My lady, My lady”. Your cheeks went red again as you hid in his neck.

It didn't take long to get to the ice cream stand. Luckily they where still opened. Murphy carefully set you down on a bench. “I'll be right back, you sit here and look pretty for me” He said softly as he approached the ice cream stand. Getting two scoops of your favorite flavor of ice cream and the one for himself. He came back and sat next to you handing you your ice cream. It was peaceful. The two of you sitting in the park, eating ice cream. He turned towards you and noticed you got some on your nose. He reached up and gently wiped it off with his thumb. Licking it off his fingers. You giggled as the space between you grew smaller. Your ice cream now long forgotten. He took your hand in his and sighed softly.

“Listen (Y/N), I really like spending time with you. Something about you just brightens my day. You always seem to know how to make me laugh. Getting to know ya has been one of the best choices in my life. Kinda glad my brother was blasting music that night we met. What I'm trying to say is, I would like to be more with you. I want to be with ya.” Murphy finally admitted. It felt like a huge brick lifted off his chest. You looked at him and smiled softly. Reaching up to cup his cheek. Closing the gap between you.

This kiss was different. It was slow and intimate. It felt like you where both pouring all your feelings and emotions for one another into it. Eventually you had to break away for air. Murphy had a big smile on his face as he looked at you with adortion. “So is that a yes?” He asked. You giggled and nodded your head. “Yes Murphy, that's a yes”. This would be a night you wouldn't forget..

[ddixonsangel]

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𖥔 smut : as well as suggestive stuff (just for the moment).

¡ ꒰ 𝐈 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 ꒱ !

𖥔 the walking dead : rick grimes ⭑ daryl dixon

𖥔 the last of us : joel miller ⭑ ellie williams.

𖥔 pedro pascal's characters : javier peña ⭑ javi gutiérrez ⭑ agent whiskey ⭑ din djarin ⭑ marcus pike ⭑ marcus acacius.

𖥔 norman reedus' characters : murphy macmanus ⭑ scud frohmeyer ⭑ sam porter bridges

𖥔 random anime characters : tamaki amajiki ⭑ chuuya nakahara

© ddixonsangel · 2025 | all fanfics belong to me, please do not translate, copy or repost them on any other social media.

[edgessunflower]

I was hoping you could do a Murphy smut story? Where he sees a guy flirting with her at the bar and he gets crazy jealous and they get home and have the most epic sex ever!

You got it sorry if there isn't graphic smut that is just not my thing

I'm yours

Pairing: Murphy Macmanus x Fem reader

Description: After talking to an old friend you and Murphy talk when you go home

You decided on your night off to go with your friends Murphy and Connor Macmanus going to the local pub near their shared apartment and run by their friend Doc. You had gotten the week off work due to a holiday but also for many personal reasons most of your coworkers than you so you decided on your first day off to make plans going to visit the boys where they asked you to join them to the pub the next day which you happily agreed. You and murph had been dating for a few months now and always telling him how much you cared for him he truly was the best relationship you had ever had and the most kind hearted man you had ever met never thinking that the two of you would get together when the two of you met and soon became friends with him and his brother who treated you as a sister even when the two of you had just met. The three of you hung out drinking a little when you saw an old friend of yours you had known since high school going over to hi to him as the boys were talking to doc and their friend Rocco talking to him for a few minutes not noticing the look on murph's face when he saw you and your friend but he kept it cool when you came back and talked to rocco happy that you got to see him. The 4 of you stayed at the bar for 4 hours bidding rocco goodbye as you all say bye to doc leaving walking onwards and saying night and bye to connor as he heads back to his and murph's place while you and murph went to your home for the night going in hanging your coats and drinking some water going to change but as you went in your room the next the thing you knew was you were against the wall. You stared in his eyes as he leans in "I saw you in the bar earlier and I know you weren't flirting with him but I am still going to show you who's you are" you wrap your arms around his shoulders as he kisses you moving you to lay on your bed stripping you slowly and stripping himself quickly after thankful your neighbors were on vacation and working so you could be as loud as you wanted and didn't need to cover your mouth or hold your breath to keep from moaning and grunting that soon mingled together as time went on and things got more and more heated. You both went and showered together after finally being out of breath and spent of arousal eating take out and going back to your room and falling asleep tangled together after the last four hours of showing that you not only loved each other but were loyal to each other as well.

[teapartyprincess4two]

☆ RULES ☆

RULES:

Bullying or harassment of any kind is not welcomed or allowed! This is a safe space for any and everyone! Be mindful of your requests, comments, and messages. Stay kind bbys 🫶🏻

This blog contains some 18+ stories and content. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Anyone engaging in rude, racist, discriminatory, or bullying behavior will be blocked!

WHO I WRITE FOR:

🐇~ Everything I write is a work of FICTION. Some of my stories are based/ inspired by true life events, but nothing I write is real. Keep that in mind!

☆ Sturniolo Triplets

Nicolas Sturniolo x Platonic!Fem!Reader

Nicolas Sturniolo x Romantic!Male!Reader

☆ Johnnie Guilbert

☆ Jake Webber

☆ Lip Gallagher (Shameless)

☆ 5 Seconds of Summer

all members!

☆ Norman Reedus

Daryl Dixon, Murphy MacManus, Diego, Van

REQUESTS:

💌~ Feel free to message me or send in a question or request! I will do my best to write as many of them as possible!! Please read below before requesting:

Requests are open, I will be writing as many as possible because you guys have sooo many good idea

I will write fluff, smut, sad, angst, Latina reader, Platonic!Nick x Platonic!Fem!Reader, & Male!reader x Nick

I won’t write incest, age regression, self harm, step siblings, romantic Nick x Romantic!Fem!reader, or Nick smut

Please be patient 🖤

ANON MESSAGES:

✨~ Send in an anon message with a request or just to talk! And let me know if you’d like to be known under a nickname or an emoji!

You can access the current ANON LIST to make sure your emoji/ nickname claim isn’t taken

Be mindful of what you send! I’m always willing to just talk and give advice <3

TAGLIST:

💐~ if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment

if you only want to be tagged in certain fanfic related posts, feel free to specify!

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

♫ ― 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓!

⋆ these are characters that i write for that don't have a particular fandom, usually movies or if i don't want to write for the rest of the cast of a certain series!

joel miller

tess servopoulos

jim hopper

boaz priestly

jonathan byers

ss harley quinn

hughie campbell

murphy macmanus

annie "starlight" january

mike schmidt

kathani "kate" sharma

billy butcher

kang sae-byeok

vi (arcane)

sevika (arcane)

[somedaylazysomeday]

SomedayLazySomeday's Masterlist

Hey, friends! Here is the collection of everything I’ve written up to this point. Fics have their own page to keep things neat, and those links are posted under the media to which they belong. 

All fics feature a female reader with minimal physical description and no use of ‘Y/N’. All of these works are rated mature or explicit and are not intended for minors. Please take note of the warnings listed on the chapter links for each fic.

Thanks for reading and enjoy!

- Ink 

Arcane (2021) 

Good Intentions - Silco x fem!reader. - 54.7k words. Reader runs a charitable organization, the Haven, which seeks to help people overcome their Shimmer addiction. Silco soon takes an intense interest in the Haven and the woman who operates it.

Noisy - Viktor x fem!reader.  - 7.2k words. Reader is a student at the Piltover Academy and lives in student housing, one floor below Viktor. He’s a bit of an insomniac… and a noisy one at that.

Avengers (2012) 

Cold - Loki x fem!reader. - 3k words. Reader is in a casual physical relationship with Loki. When she attends a party at Avengers Tower with someone else, he’s bothered by the idea that she’s ashamed of him. Themes of jealousy and minor monsterfucking.

Beetlejuice  

A Deal with a Demon - Beetlejuice x fem!reader. - 13.3k words. Reader is a witch who’s a little down on her luck. She summons a demon for help, but he turns out to be very different from what she expected. Themes of magic, desperation, and monsterfucking.

Black Sails  

Captured - Captain Charles Vane x fem!reader.  - 9.1k words. Reader disguised herself as a man to cross the ocean, but her ship was captured by pirates who brought her on as a member of their crew. Vane eventually figures out the truth. Dub-con themes in Part One; mind the warnings!

The Boondock Saints 

Na Buachaillí - Murphy MacManus x fem!reader, Connor MacManus x fem!reader. - 13k words. Reader is a high school science teacher working temp jobs over Christmas break to help pay for her divorce. 

Ex Machina (2015) 

Winner Take All - Nathan Bateman x fem!reader.  - 11.6k words. Reader knows Nathan from MIT, and they constantly run into each other during trivia night at a local bar. Enemies to friends to lovers vibes.

The Gray Man (2022)

Paranoid - Lloyd Hansen x fem!reader. - 9.7k words. Reader runs into Lloyd and he takes a liking to her. She can’t say the same for him. Dark!fic with themes of non-con. Mind the warnings on this one!

The Hobbit 

Dexterity - Thorin Oakenshield x fem!reader. - 14.6k words. Reader sells wool at Erebor’s markets and is familiar with the king, handsome and aloof. But Thorin rapidly warms up when a storm forces her to stay in Erebor overnight…

A Boon - Elvenking Thranduil x fem!reader. - 20.2k words. Reader owns a bar in Lake-Town and is very unimpressed with the Elvenking, even as he slowly works to win her over. Enemies to lovers vibes.

Labyrinth 

Dreams - Jareth x fem!reader.  - 7.7k words. Reader wished away her college roommate, beat the labyrinth, and resisted the Goblin King. But he isn’t done with her yet… Themes of dark fae, magic, and predator/prey.

Random Jareth Fics - Jareth x fem!reader - 6.8k words. Reader is a teacher who was wished away by a young student. She becomes Jareth’s eyes and ears in the human world, working to keep his legend alive. Over time, she becomes less human, but an occasional need still arises.

Narcos

Informant - Javier Peña x fem!reader. - 2.3k words. Reader has some information about Pablo Escobar and ends up making a different sort of deal. (Similar in tone to Oaths, but I hadn’t quite figured out how to write Javier Peña’s character yet.)

Oaths - Javier Peña x fem!reader. - 11.5k words. Reader is a nurse who treats the Escobar family. She turns information over to the DEA, though she doesn’t care for the agent assigned to her case.

Matter of Perspective - Captain Horacio Carrillo x fem!reader.  - 9.6k words. Reader works for the DEA in Columbia and accompanies the Search Bloc to prove one of her theories. Enemies to lovers vibes.

Southern Vampire Mysteries/True Blood

Blood Donor - Eric Northman x fem!reader.  - 2.4k words. Reader is a were-animal working for the vampires of a town Eric is visiting. You are sent to feed him. 

Star Wars 

Target Acquired - Jango Fett x fem!reader. - 9.6k words. Reader is a bounty hunter who often finds herself in direct competition with Jango Fett. They have a deal: whoever catches the bounty sets the terms of their night together.

Pursuit - Boba Fett x fem!reader.  - 6.5k words. Reader is a bounty Boba finds, but she must convince him to let her go… even if they both know it’s only temporary. 

Star Wars: The Bad Batch 

Hunted - Hunter x fem!reader. - 7.3k words. Reader works with the Bad Batch. She has a crush on Hunter that seems one-sided… until a chance encounter with a mysterious substance on a mission. Sex pollen and themes of predator/prey. 

Aim - Crosshair x fem!reader. - 9.9k words. Reader works with the Bad Batch and gets stranded with Crosshair after a mission. They won’t make it back to the Havoc Marauder without blowing off some steam. Enemies to lovers vibes in both parts. 

Experiment - Tech x fem!reader. - 3.5k words. Tech thinks he can’t be distracted from his work. Reader bets that isn’t true, and she’s willing to prove it.

Stretch - Wrecker x fem!reader.  - 13.5k words. Reader and Wrecker are a strong couple, but there are some challenges that come with dating someone so physically large. 

Different, But Still Good - TBB!Echo x fem!reader.  - 3.4k words. Reader is a sex-positive asexual, unbothered by the ways Echo was changed during his time with the Separatists. They’re both a little surprised when he volunteers to help on an unusually needy day. 

Star Wars: The Clone Wars

Bitten - Commander Wolffe x fem!reader.  - 13.4k words. Reader has a crush on Broadside, a pilot with the 501st. When it isn’t returned, a helpful stranger encourages her to let Wolffe provide a distraction.

Tied Up in You - Commander Fox x fem!reader. - 9.8k words. Established relationship between Fox and Reader. Sickeningly sweet glimpses at a loving, unlikely relationship.

Misbehaving - Commander Cody x fem!reader.  - 9.2k words. Reader is in a relationship with Cody. Their relationship is one of control and boundaries, but they’re both willing and ready to test each other.

Star Wars: Legends

Bodyguard - Alpha-17 x fem!reader.  - 9.2k words. Reader is a Senatorial aide, assigned to work for a hated senator who endangers both of their lives with his politics. Fortunately, Alpha is sent to keep them safe.

Gar Cyare Spice Fics - Alpha-17 x fem!reader. - 6.8k words. Assorted spicy chapters of an ongoing fic on my main blog. (Gar Cyare by WanderingInkSplot) Established relationship between Alpha and the fem!reader.

The Boys

Hooked - Billy Butcher x fem!reader. - 8k words. Reader is a tow truck driver sent to tow Butcher's car. He's less than pleased.

The Walking Dead 

Arm Candy - Negan x fem!reader.  - 18k words. Reader is a Savior and a prospective wife. Negan likes to show her off at meetings, but he is easily the most distracted person in the room.

[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’.”

[star-wrote]

☆ star’s daryl dixon masterlist ☆

smut = *

☆ coming soon ☆

-drunk daryl angst request

-daryl x fem!reader series rewrite

☆ moodboards ☆

-daryl’s sunshine

-daryl dixon’s southern angel

-comforting his girl in a thunderstorm

-daryl’s oceanside girl

-daryl and his girl after the prison fell

-showering with daryl

-daryl’s bookworm

-daryl’s photographer

-daryl’s forest fairy

-daryl’s healer

-daryl’s flower girl

☆ blurbs ☆

-riding his thigh*

-feral early seasons daryl*

-cumming inside*

-taking you from behind*

-prom with daryl + moodboard

-size kink*

-oral fixation*

☆ headcanons ☆

-nsfw alphabet*

-daryl’s music taste

☆ oneshots ☆

-need (a sex pollen fic)*

-summer lovin’ (angst + fluff request)

-leannán (irish!reader fluff request)

-vibe (a vibrator fic)*

-dream of me (nightmare angst request)

-georgia peach (summer writing challenge)

☆ series ☆

nothing here yet :/

☆ other NR characters ☆

-mo stór (murphy macmanus fluff request)

-scud headcanons*

[dixonsdarkelf]

A Little Snooping Never Hurt Anyone: Murphy MacManus & Fem!Reader

Summary: Bedroom activities with your boyfriend never ceased to leave you fully satiated, but tonight was different. And only later is it revealed what exactly had gotten into him.

Main masterlist Murphy x Reader Masterlist AO3 link

Genre: Fluff, suggestive, implied smut

Word count: 878

Warnings: MDNI, implied smut (like we don't see any of the action but they were clearly fucking), implication of unprotected p in v & creampie (I do not endorse this, y'all know better), swearing

A/N: This was inspired by this post from the lovely @negansbestie 🤍 I hope you enjoy this angel. Consider it a belated birthday gift 🖤 And thank you to my favorite second set of eyes, @dixons-sunshine, as always 🖤

The door crashes against the wall, the sound of those rusty hinges reverberating through the small apartment. His lips had already collided into yours before you’d even approached his apartment, his kisses tender but needy, every cell in his body already tingling at the thought of feeling you in the most intimate way.

Barely in the doorframe, his hand finds your waist, pressing you against the wall and boxing you in. His other hand trailed to your leg, lifting it slightly to hook around his. You could feel his hardness against your thigh, dangerously close to your core. The heat radiating off of him, but especially from between his legs, was searing, suffocating almost.

His lips traveled down your jaw slowly, almost achingly so, eventually finding the sweet spot on your neck. He kissed, licked, sucked gently—teasing you, testing your patience. Which you had none of today.

“Fuck, Murph.” Your head falls back to allow him easier access, your fingers digging into his shoulders as if it was the only thing keeping you upright. Your moans sent shivers down his spine, every little reaction your body had to his touch traveling straight to his cock.

“Ye make the sweetest sounds, lass,” he groaned against your neck, resisting the urge to grind against you. He wanted to take it slow with you. He always did. Tonight, though, would be just a little bit different.

He pulled your leg up further, his hand sliding down to pull your other one up and encouraging you to wrap them around his waist. He captured your lips again, ensuring he had a firm grip on you before pulling you away from the wall and carrying you over to bed.

That was some time ago. Half an hour, 45 minutes, you couldn’t be sure, nor did you care.

And now here you were, strung-out and spent, the mattress springs squeaking as your partner adjusted himself next to you. He slipped on that infamous grey robe before lying back, pulling the blanket over himself and cuddling closer to you. You smiled up at him, the dazed, cock-drunk look in your eyes making him chuckle.

“Ye good, lass?” he inquired. He brushed some hair from your face, admiring you as you lay there on your back, staring up at the ceiling.

“Yeah,” you sighed, your stupefied expression carrying into your voice. Sex with Murphy always left you satisfied after, but today? You’d never felt pleasure like that. Never felt him like that. He was gentle with you, of course, but there was an unfamiliar voracity in his thrusts, an earth-shattering hunger as he bucked and emptied himself into you. “Holy shit.”

“That a good “holy shit?”” he teased, a chuckle escaping him once again.

You turned your head to meet his gaze, those deep pools of blue pulling you toward him like a siren song. “Are you kidding me? My legs are still twitching.” Rolling over onto your side, you propped your head up with your hand, resting on your elbow. “That was incredible. I’ve never seen you like that before.” You paused for a brief moment, a beat just long enough to contemplate asking the question that’d been on your mind. “You were wild, babe. What got into you?”

A faint blush appeared on his cheeks, quickly creeping down his neck. “Saw yer texts the other day,” he confessed, sounding ashamed as his eyes fell to the bed, “left yer phone open when ye were in the shower.”

Your ears perked up at his statement, and despite your best efforts, you could feel them beginning to redden against your will. “And what exactly did you see?”

“A message of ye tellin’ ye friend, and I quote, “I want him to hit it like a drawer that won’t close.”” His voice had grown softer, timid, like he was a little bashful to be uttering such words. Though after what he just did, the notion seemed silly—getting flustered after giving you a life-changing orgasm.

The heat gathering in your cheeks was like fire, burning you from the inside out. The embarrassment flooding your system was suffocating, your breath catching in your chest as you gasped. Your hand instinctively shoots out from under the blanket to swat his chest. “What the hell, Murph, you little sneak! You snooped?”

“Don’t know if it technically classifies as snoopin’, Y/N,” he shrugged, “never touched it. Only saw what was open. Ye know I’d never do it intentionally.” He snaked his arm around you, pulling you flush against his chest and kissing your forehead. “And I don’t know why ye lookin’ so embarrassed. Seein’ ye lose yourself, watchin’ how ye reacted because of a little something I could do…gonna go stir-crazy if I keep thinkin’ about it.”

You giggled softly at his praises, resting your head in the crook of his neck. “I just never expected you to see it. But I’ll admit, the way you were tonight was something else.”

“Guess a little snoopin’ never hurt anyone,” he teased, his other hand sliding down your lower back to bring your whole body closer to him. “Especially not in this case.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. A hint of laughter laced your words, bringing matching smiles to both of your faces. “In this case, I guess it doesn’t.”

General taglist: @raddydaddydude @lovenormandixon @angeldemoncrowley @negansbestie @holdmytesseract @dixons-sunshine

Hit me up to be added to/removed from the taglist 🖤

GIF and © below were made by me. Sparkle and 'sexual content below' dividers are by @/anitalenia

[mayday2007]

Murphy MacManus masterlist

Nothing yet!

Nothing yet!

Nothing yet!

Banners by @cafekitsune

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

I’ll Throw Away My Faith, Babe, Just to Keep You Safe

Part 2

Pairing: Murphy MacManus x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Allusions to violence; Blood and injury; Poorly written smut; That damn iron again

You rubbed your forehead, a headache brewing behind your eyes. You would definitely have preferred to be at the bar with Doc. Instead, the boys had left you at the church while they handled the threat, a job in which they excelled without you being used as a pawn. Now they were pissed, seeking something beyond justice.

The worst part was the silence. Without the distraction of sound, your thoughts were free to wander, a myriad of conceptions that stretched from your childhood to your current predicament, pivoting back to the scene with Murphy; his arms around you, his breath hot against your ear, the way he had leaned into your touch. If only you could have stayed—

The door flew open and smacked the wall. You were on your feet before you even realized what it was you were doing. The least you could do was ensure you were worth the battle Murphy and Connor were facing. 

Your clenched fists relaxed as the brothers—Romeo in tow—entered, Murphy limping heavily and Connor cradling an arm to his chest. “Oh, thank god!” Your face was buried against Murphy’s neck within the span of a heartbeat, your arms beneath his, squeezing his torso. He let out a gasp—one that nearly had you jumping away—before you felt his warmth surround you. 

“Hello, love.” He murmured into your hair, his hands softly rubbing your back. You were forced to swallow the whimper pushing against the hind side of your teeth, concealing just how worried you had been. What if he had never returned? 

“Are they all—” You began, the words trailing behind the softest of sniffles. 

“Always be people like them in this world, lass.” His lips pressed against your temple before he hobbled back a step and placed his hands on your upper arms. “But aye, they’re gone.”

With a nod, you dropped your head and wiped at your eyes. He had seen you cry plenty of times, seen how the risks he took weighed so heavily on your shoulders. Regardless, it seemed more difficult now to allow him audience with your tears. 

“Grab the iron.” Connor elbowed Romeo with his good arm and stalked into the room, falling heavily into the chair you had previously occupied. 

“Always with the iron!” Your lips drew straight into a pinched smile as he passed, waving you off with his uninjured arm. 

Watching him walk—really seeing him—you turned back to Murphy. His face was bruised and littered with cuts, flecks of blood splattered on tanned skin. A crimson pool had puddled around his boot. 

“Murphy!” You exclaimed, grabbing his wrist. “You’re hurt!” The bullet had tagged his thigh, the metal a dense pressure in tissue and muscle. He was fortunate it had missed the artery. “Sit down, come on.” Guiding him to the single bed, you glanced toward Romeo and did a double-take. He was plugging in a compact iron. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

You couldn’t stop pacing. How could they ever think you’d feel comfortable in a hotel while they remained in the church? You should have been with them, helping clean up the mess, taking care of them. They had refused, claiming your safety was priority number one. 

Your life as you knew it was over. Murphy had mentioned a new apartment. He had been adamant that you needed to be kept at a distance, not seen with them again. It would be a miracle if your existence remained unnoticed by other threats when such a prominent mob had discovered your ties to the MacManus twins.

You knew that they’d never be able to keep you away. Deep down, they knew it too. It was a codependency. They needed you just as much as you needed them. Safety be damned, no one would take that away from you: Italian mob, police, the Pope himself. 

Worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, the phone became the centerpiece of your attention. Their instructions were clear: do not call until they could get a burner phone. The risk of being traced and found was just too great. 

Damn them and their vigilante lifestyle. 

Just as the war within found a victor and you reached for the receiver, there was a knock at the door. Startled, you jumped and nearly struck the lamp off of the nightstand. The last time someone had knocked, it had been the precursor to one of the most terrifying nights of your life. 

“Shit.” You whispered, creeping toward the door with a cautionary edge. The soft rapping didn’t sound again before you peered through the peephole. 

“It’s only me.” Murphy grinned, leaning in as if he could see you on the other side. 

Rolling your eyes, you disengaged the lock and opened the door. “Ass.” He was limping over the threshold before you had even fully stepped out of the way, invading your space with his warmth and the intoxicating scent of smoke and something that was just so incredibly Murphy. “What’re you doing here?”

“Making sure everything’s okay.” He picked up a room service menu from the desk and glanced at it. “Needed to know that you’re safe.”

You suddenly wanted your hands on him, beyond intimacy, but to ensure yourself that he was really here. Thoughts drifting and lingering on that first day in the hall, your focus settled on how Connor must have felt. As seasoned as he was, there had been a fear in his eyes, a stricken terror that he was going to lose Murphy. 

And now, you knew how that felt. So many times, since that day, you had sat around your apartment and wondered if that would be the day he didn’t return. If that would be the day the god in whose name he fought would take him from you. If you could have done something, done more. And once he was home, you agonized over how you could ensure you never had to feel that way ever again, how you could keep him safe. 

“Hey, lass.” You blinked and met the brilliant blue of his gaze, only in that moment realizing that he was rubbing your upper arm. “Where’d that pretty head of yours take you?” It should have been easy to say all you wanted to express within the confines of your own head, but giving actual breath to the words was next to impossible. 

Especially when he was looking at you like that. 

His expression was different. It lacked the mildness of an alcohol-induced calm, but his eyes were the same. The same intent observance as the night he had bid you stay. Sobriety would bar those words from ever crossing his lips but his eyes said it all. 

“Stay.”

It took you a moment to realize it had been your tongue to utter the word and a moment more to realize how many different ways you had meant it. Stay in your life. Stay with you and give up the mission. Stay at the hotel.

His hand had stilled. “Y/N?”

You swallowed hard past the newly formed lump in your throat. “Stay with me tonight.” The vulnerability that you had attempted to avoid built up its glass walls, and you suddenly felt the intense fear of the stone that would shatter them. “I mean, if you want to. I’m just worried that—well, you know—you and Connor—what if—”

Your lips burned from the moment his touched them, a scorching buzz that you were certain you’d feel long after he pulled away. You had barely anticipated that moment when he stepped closer, his hands on either side of your face. You melted into his touch, knees unexpectedly weak, his right hand abandoning its position to press against the small of your back and keep you standing. 

When he did end the moment, your eyes remained closed, lips chasing his as you held tight to the feeling you had just experienced. You nearly whined when the silence willed you to look at him. With a second of trepidation, you blinked your eyes open—and nearly gasped. 

The same pregnable hesitation you had felt only moments ago reflected back at you, bathed in radiant blue. There was a sparkle in the dance of his gaze, his search for permission to continue. When your words refused to find breath, Murphy stepped back. 

“I’m sorry, lass.” He murmured, quickly withdrawing his hands. “I’m a right proper eejit.” He pursed his lips and nodded, affirming the statement to himself even as you shook your head and stepped forward to close the space once again.

“No, no, no. Murphy, I was just—taken by surprise.” His eyes narrowed, that adorable expression that meant he was working something out. “I want this. I want this so much!” It was you to seal your lips over his this time, your arms thrown around his neck. Murphy chuckled against your mouth, his smile forcing you to kiss his teeth before he pulled back. “What?” You asked breathlessly.

“Nothing, love. Just,” he reached up to rub your upper arms, his hands gliding down over your ribs to settle on the curve of your waist, “slow down, yeah?” Tilting his head, he craned his neck to follow your gaze when you nervously attempted to look away. Your cheeks flared pink with embarrassment. “Unless you’re late for the next lad?” He teased. 

You huffed a laugh through your nose. “Shut up.” 

“Gladly.” His right hand abandoned your hip for his fingers to instead clasp your chin and guide your face back toward his. Leaning forward, he nuzzled his nose against yours before claiming your lips, a slow dance that coaxed you to sigh and relax into his hold. When he started walking you backward, you were too enthralled with the taste of him to realize where he was guiding you until the back of your knees hit the edge of the mattress.

Thrown off balance, you began to tumble back, eyes shooting open and an indignant oomf sounding against Murphy’s lips. You separated from him with a deep breath just as your butt hit the soft padding behind you. He was grinning down at you, peeling his peacoat from his shoulders to let it slide off his arms into a pile on the floor. 

It wasn’t the first time you had appreciated how well the man wore a t-shirt. Murphy was lean with whipcord muscles beneath tan, inked skin. His biceps flexed while his hands grabbed the back collar of his shirt to pull it over his head. Your mouth went dry and your brain blanked for a moment, the neurons only firing once again when his knee pressed into the mattress between your thighs. Wide eyes blinked up at him.

He went still. “This okay, love?” You nodded with an almost comical enthusiasm, eliciting a chuckle from the man above you. His mouth had barely opened to say something, but snapped shut the moment your hands seized the hem of your shirt to yank it over your head (with only a small amount of difficulty). “Eager,” was all he managed. 

You bit back a plea, though the desperation to touch him was dangerously close to unbearable. Murphy’s tongue dragged across his bottom lip, followed by his thumb, the digit hovering at the corner of his mouth. His eyes were glued to the curve of your breasts above your bra, the skin flushed with arousal. You were ready to pounce the man. Self-control was not an easy feat at that very moment.

When neither of you moved for a lingering heartbeat—just long enough to make it awkward—you let your fingers touch the skin that seemed to be mesmerizing him. He was helplessly following the movement of your hand. You pressed both palms against your sternum and carved a trail down to the waistband of your jeans, tapping the button with a single digit. 

“Need some help there?” He asked, a hungry edge to his tone. The way he squinted and shifted his eyes to your face, it was certain he had already mentally done all the undressing. 

“Mm-mm.” You declined with a sultry grin. Your stomach fluttered with something akin to anxiety, his undivided attention calling forth insecurities from your past relationships. But this was Murphy. You wanted him in a way that ached. A bone-deep desire that needed him to satisfy the primal urges he had awakened within you. 

You popped the button and watched his fingers twitch at his side. You could practically hear his heart pounding a tattoo into his ribcage, a smirk curving your lips.

Capturing your bottom lip between your teeth, you drew down the zipper and began to shimmy the fabric down over your hips. There was only a single pause—jeans hugging your thighs—when his breathing quickened. It was the slightest alteration and hitch. 

“Bloody hell, lass.” Murphy raked his fingers through his short hair, the skin of his cheeks and chest roseated. 

You giggled—actually giggled—and rid yourself of the garment in one quick motion, carelessly tossing it to land somewhere unknown. Beckoning him with a finger, you allowed your legs to fall open. He appeared to hesitate before it became abundantly clear that he was simply admiring the sight of you. Then his knee was denting the mattress once again and he crawled up the length of your body not unlike a predator stalking its prey. 

His weight settled on top of you, breath against your skin, the taste of a last cigarette clinging to his kiss. Your nails traced up and down the perfect slope of his back, feeling the muscles ripple and relax as his hands mapped the landscape of your body.

Unfortunately, Murphy’s jeans were still very much settled on his narrow hips. You would have to remedy that if you could remember how to make your body obey your brain.

“Mm, Murphy.” You breathed, arching into him to bare your throat. He hummed against your pulse, nipping at the exposed flesh. You mewled below him as he moved again, brushing his lips against yours without claiming them. When you leaned up, desperate for his mouth, he pulled back and grasped your chin. 

 “Are you sure, love?” 

You drew back against the mattress, angling to see his face. His eyes were so blue, pupils blown wide, and he was looking at you like you were the queen of his fucking castle. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.” 

Murphy said nothing as he leaned in to take your lips, urgent and heated. You smiled against his mouth as he pulled against the front clasps on your bra and parted it. He pulled the lacey fabric down your arms, exploring the treasures underneath, his desire building with every moan, every whine. You raised your hips as his capable fingers slid your undergarments down your legs, wasting no time in discarding them somewhere on the floor. 

His lips explored your chest with more fervor than before when he suddenly pulled away and stood, saving you the effort of being the one to rid him of the remainder of his clothes. You reached for him before he could settle back above you, twisting your fingers in his short hair to bring his lips back to yours.

Murphy nipped at you playfully and trailed wet kisses down your neck, chest, and stomach before he ventured lower, pausing just above where you needed him most. He brought your left leg up over his shoulder, angling his head to kiss your inner thigh. You shivered and bit your lip, arching off the mattress as he continued to work his way back up. When he settled between your thighs and reached down between your  bodies to line himself up with your entrance, your stomach knotted in anticipation.

He pushed into you slowly, the glorious stretch of accommodating him dragging a moan from somewhere deep within your chest. It was everything you had been yearning for, connection and pleasure intertwining into something you could not describe, much less name. 

Hypnotic blue orbs stared down at you. It was not until that moment, you realized he wasn’t moving. No words were said. You raised your head to meet his lips, calm and inviting, and slid your hands down his back while winding your legs around his calves. To Murphy, that was ‘green light: go.’ 

The first roll of his hips, the pleasant burn of adjustment, was exquisite. An involuntary shudder passed over him, silently communicating that it was he found it just as pleasurable. Your breath caught with each deep, deliberate drag along your walls, your toes curling. You felt like you were going to come apart, split right in two. 

His lips found yours again, his tongue drawing across your bottom lip to bid you grant him access. He had no more than locked into your mouth before retreating, dipping his tongue into the hollow of your throat. His mouth ventured to where your pulse was hammering, teeth grazing the flesh there while he pushed deeper into you. Your back curved upward, trapping your breasts against his chest while your fingers pressed roughly into his back, nails leaving crescent moons in the skin there. 

“Fan go teann, a ghrá.”

Blinking lust-fogged eyes clear, you had no chance to question before you were shunted upward by an ardent thrust. The pace he set was intense, but far from brutal. Your hands scrambled between white knuckling the headboard and digging your nails into any piece of flesh you could grip. 

 “Y/N.” 

Oh, the way he purred your name; you felt the heat of his tone searing into your core. The consistent spearing against that spot deep within you had your eyes rolling and your lips parted in quiet gasps. His breathy moans in your ear were swiftly catapulting you towards the edge much too soon. You once again bit your lip as a familiar tension began to coil and burn with each push and pull of him. 

Before you could reach your peak, he rolled and brought you with him, hands resting on your waist. You wasted no time and began to grind your hips, grinning as Murphy bucked off the mattress and hissed. His fingers tightened their grip, urging you to continue. You obliged, leaning forward to grab the headboard and earning sounds from the man that you didn’t even know he could make. You would surely have finger-shaped bruises later, but the sight of him writhing beneath you and breathing your name like a mantra was intoxicating. 

You found a perfect rhythm together, your hips snapping back and forth as his ground up into you. When your muscles began to flutter and hug him, he did nothing to hinder your gratification this time. Stars exploded behind your eyes as you crested with a cry of his name. Murphy followed, groaning hoarsely, head pressed back into the pillows with blissful agony carved harshly in every tensing muscle.

Dizzy and floating on a cloud higher than nine, you unceremoniously toppled over beside him and were immediately gathered to his side, lips pressing into your hair. Still lost in the post-coital high, you vaguely felt him shifting and smiled as the blankets came down over you. 

“That was—wow.” You marveled in a breath, blinking up at the ceiling while reorienting yourself with reality. You felt Murphy’s deep chuckle vibrate through his chest. 

“Aye.” He agreed, his throaty tone traveling straight to your lady parts. Down, girl. The second kiss you felt on the crown of your head was sobering, and you turned into him, your ear over his heart. 

“Murphy.” You uttered, your fingertips exploring the planes of his chest and stomach. He responded with a drawn out hum. Maybe he was falling asleep. “I—this was everything I’ve wanted for so long.” His breaths paused.

“Really?” He probed. Murphy pulled back and angled his head to regard you. 

“Mhm.” You tilted your face upward with the softest of smiles, watching your words turn about in his head. “Can I tell you a secret?” You grinned. 

“O’course.”

“I think I fell in love with you a while ago.” Admittedly, fear vibrated behind your teeth in an attempt to trap the words before you could voice them. “No. I know I did.”

The expression he wore frightened you, a stoicism you couldn’t decipher. “You love me?”

You didn’t miss a beat. “I do.” 

“Huh.” He smiled, staring off somewhere over your bare shoulder. “I often wondered about that.” 

That wasn’t really the answer you had hoped for, but you would take what you could get with him. 

“Well, now you know.” You couldn’t disguise the disappointment hovering densely over the words. You made to rest your head against his chest but he caught your chin between his forefinger and thumb. 

“I love you, too, lass. Have from the moment I laid eyes on you.” Bending awkwardly, he caught your mouth with his own, chaste but no less passionate. You were slow to open your eyes once the absence of his lips left yours cold and wanting. “bhí mo chroí agat i gcónaí.”

“I’m not sure what that means but I like the sound of it.” You chuckled before biting your lip when he rolled you onto your back, your legs bracketing his hips. 

“Maybe I won’t make you ponder on it for too long, but for now,” he kissed your jaw. “Let’s do that again, yeah?”

Laughing, you weaved your arms beneath his to pull him closer. “Oh, yeah.”

Murphy would definitely be spending the night.