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just-some-random-blogger · 10 days ago

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Sweets & Sweeties

You opened a bakeshop called Sweets & Sweeties which was just beside Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, and one day you accidentally lock yourself outside.

George Weasley x Reader (x Fred Weasley) | 1k+ | cw: fem!reader, Murphy's law, fred lives stfu, fluff, rizzler!Georgie, typos, etc.

A/N: i have this fic called tormented spirit and its fucked me up cos of how sad it is HAHAHAH i need a break and thats coming from someone who LOVES angst. ALSO i was never super into Harry Potter so idk lore™ but I've been watching the phelps twins and their baking show related content and i'm just so endeared by them AHHHHHHHHH. please leave comments/reblogs because this feels a bit mid cos i havent written fluff in 100 years T_T cross posted on ao3 | continuation fic

@pendragora if i have to suffer, you have to suffer

Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was always busy. Everyday, there were children and children-at-heart going up and down the block, eager to buy themselves trinket or treat to promptly cause mischief.

Because of the shop's success, your own shop also benefitted from it. Sweets & Sweeties was your dream come true. As a child, you loved sweet treats, and you would grow to learn you loved making them just as much.

You hadn't expected to sell out as often as you did, and you knew it was all thanks to the fact the establishment next door brought as many customers as they did, who then became your customers.

You were extremely grateful, and tried time and time again to show it through a simple gesture of a gift. It was rather hard to find the time to do so however, as the neighbor establishment was constantly packed. The first time you saw the owner of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, he had introduced himself as: "George Weasley," he says, dusting off his hands before reaching one out for you.

You merely stare at him, your smile flattening slightly, only to grow wider as you chuckle. Both of your hands held a tray of cake, and it was quite a weighty cake at that, "I-"

"Right," he brushes his hands on his trousers, "right. Sorry, let me help you with that."

He takes the cake from you and ushers you deeper into the store. You gasp when a small child runs across him, unfortunately bumping into his side. Thankfully, George manages to lift the cake, evading the collision. The girl who bumped into him looks up, eyes wide, hands clutched, looking rather guilty, "s-sorry, Mr. Weasley."

The tall man's brows furrow as he looks down. He whines, "s'not Mr. Weasley, it's George."

The girl stares at him for a moment.

"Say it with me: George."

She clutches her chest and mutters, "Georgie?"

George purses his lips together in a soft smile and nods, "Georgie it is then."

Your hand comes to your mouth as you chuckle and follow after the red haired man. He leads you into the back office and you gasp yet again, this time, because of the photograph on the wall. It was a family portrait of a myriad of other red heads breaking into a wide grin.

"There's two of you!" you point.

George sets the cake down on his desk and crosses his arms once he's besides you, "nah. There's only one person in the family as good looking as me," he turns to the photograph, "that's my twin brother, Fred."

"Oh," you turn to him, taken off guard by how close he was, "is..." you casually take a step back, "he around?"

"Yeah," he shrugs, "probably showing the customers how to use the thingamabobs."

You chuckle and nod, "well," you motion vaguely, "I know you're very busy, so I won't take any more of your time."

The man tilts his head, lips curled into an soft grin as he shrugs, "you don't hear me complaining, love."

You aimlessly look off to steel away the giggle that threatened to leave your lips, "right," you clear your throat, "ehhh, do tell me if the cake is to you—"

Before you can even finish your thought, George is back at his desk. He swipes a dollop of frosting and tastes it.

"—r... liking."

He raises his brows as he nods, "it's to my liking."

The both of you just stand there for a moment, staring at each other. You're now rather painfully aware of your breathing.

You start when the office door bangs open and a near exact replica of George comes walking in, "you would not believe what just—"

George's eyes are on you as you turn to his twin. You raise your hand, "hi... I'm-" you point to nowhere, "-the baker next door."

He turns to George, then back to you, reaching out his left hand, "Fred Weasley."

You smile and shake his hand, speaking your name in return.

"Hey!" George walks over, reaching out a hand, "I didn't get a handshake!"

You turn to George and his outstretched left hand, about to shake it, but Fred does not release you, and only turns to his twin.

"Fred-"

"I'm not done."

George watches Fred shake your hand, "well that's more than enough."

"Not really," Fred shrugs.

You chuckle softly, making them turn to you. You then offer your other hand to George, crossing your arm over the other, "here."

George looks at it and takes it with his right one. The three of your shake each other's hands for a questionably long time.

When you're finally released, you hold back a laugh and rub your palms on the side of your hips, "right... it was a pleasure to meet you both."

They nod in sync, "the pleasure is ours."

You giggle and raise a hand in regard, "come by my shop sometimes."

They wave back at you as you head for the door.

"I'll make you both a cuppa."

They smile as you exit their office. Once you were gone, the brothers instantly turn to each other.

Fred says, "she's cute."

"Yeah, I saw her first," George counters.

"Pfft, so what?"

"So, everything."

Meeting them was so... notable, that you thought about it the entire day. You found yourself giggling about the handshake for the nth time as you closed up, and right after you heard the door click, you whip your head back in realization that you'd left your bag in the counter, along with your keys.

You shake the doorknob, trying to will the door open, though you knew it was pointless, "no, no, no, NO!"

You step back and stare at the windows of your shop. You ruffle your hair and huff as you debate how bad the idea of breaking the glass with the rock would be.

You stare that your sign that read Sweets & Sweeties, feeling taunted by it so suddenly, and then you remember you forgot another thing. The window on the rooftop was surely open from when you opened it to let out some steam. What's more, it looked like it was about to rain!

"Oh," you groan and wrap your arms around yourself, "thank goodness I left my brolly too."

You crouch in front of your unlit shop, feeling rather helpless.

You hear a bell ring and turn to the shop next door. Out comes George and Fred, much wiser than you, with their brollies and suitcases in hand. They call your name in unison and you sigh as you come to stand.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" one of them says.

You freeze at the pet name, and he seems to catch on. He points upward, "sweetie."

You turn to your sign and feel bashful. You awkwardly chuckle, "right, I-"

"You alright?" another asks.

You look between them, "yeah," and shake your head, "no, ehhh, sorry... I... which is," you point in confusion, "which?"

"George," the one to your right raises a hand.

"Fred," the one to your left raises a hand.

"Right," you lower your head as you shake it, "sorry, I don't-"

"You'll get used to it," they say in unison.

You huff as you look back at them, both of their lips are pursed, "right..." you turn to your shop and point, "I, eh... locked myself out."

They turn to where you did.

"And I left my bag..."

They turn back to you.

"And my keys."

They make a face.

"And my brolly," you turn to you feet for a moment, "and the window in my roof open."

"Oooh," they say at once. George bares his teeth, "bad luck."

"And," Fred adds, looking up, "it looks like it's about to rain."

"I know!" you gasp, placing your hands on both sides of your head.

For a moment, the three of you stand there, soaking in your misfortune. A moment later, George turns to his brother and says, "hang on."

Fred turns to him.

"Don't we have a window in the roof, Fred?"

Fred turns to you, "that we do, George."

George turns to you too, "how are you with heights?"

"Ehhh..." your lips part, "....fine?"

With that, the twins head to the entrance of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, beckoning you over. They reopen the lights, leave their things by the door, and lead you upstairs.

"Now," George (you think) says, "I'd like to think our roof's pretty sturdy, but," he pulls out wand from his coat jacket, "I can always do a good ol' Levioso if anything goes awry."

You are comforted by the thought and nod as you make your way up. When you get to the top, you see a singular tiny window by the side of the roof and you momentarily wonder if this was a good idea.

"D'ya know what," George (you think) says, turning to his brother, "you should go down and watch her as she crosses, so in case anything happens," he points, "you can make sure she doesn't fall."

Fred (you think) shakes his head, "why me?"

"Because it was my idea to cast Levioso, Fred," George (you were right) retorts.

"Then you go down!" Fred whines.

"I'm not going down," he crosses his arms, "I just got here."

"Yeah, so did I—"

"SCISSORS, PAPER, ROCK!"

You watch to the instant match the twins have, finding one rock and scissors at hand. George grins, raising his winning fist. Fred rolls his eyes and sighs. He turns to you before going down.

George smiles and motions with his head, "come on then, I'll help you up."

He drags a box towards the window and reaches a hand out to you. You take his hand and step up, then reach for the sides of the window, pulling yourself up to get on the roof. You are glad their window was right in front of yours and that it wasn't a far walk at all.

Fred, who just got outside, catches his breath before cupping the sides of his mouth, "careful!"

You turn to him from below and call back, "trying!"

George watches you closely as you cross to the other side. He probably shouldn't think the wobble of your limbs endearing, but he does. The moment reach your window, he claps, "aye!"

You are quick to jump down, grunting as you do so. You turn around and smile at George who was already smiling back at you. He raises his hands, "you did it, sweetie!"

"I did, wheezing wizard!"

"Well," he tilts his head, "it's Wizard Wheezes but..." he shrugs, "you can just call me Georgie."

You raise your brows.

"I- I mean George."

You chuckle and purse your lips as you shake your head, "too late, Georgie."

"Now, hold on-"

"See you downstairs, Georgie!" you give a toothy grin as you close your window. You bite your lip and giggle to yourself for a moment, "cutie."

Georgie clenches his jaw as he stares the window. He sighs and kicks the box away before closing it, "damn."

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dixons-sunshine · 4 months ago

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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.

#krys writes .ೃ࿐#murphy the boondock saints #murphy macmanus x female reader #murphy x reader #murphy macmanus x reader #murphy macmanus #murphy macmanus x fem!reader #the boondock saints #boondock saints #norman reedus

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queenshelby · 2 months ago

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Daughter Dearest (Part 11)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (47) x Step! Daughter (21)

Warning: Infidelity, Smut, Dysfunctional Family

Tag List will be updated soon! Please comment and engage!

The following few days passed like a blur. Cillian was in London, working and attending some meetings for another movie while you finally got rid of your ankle monitor, gaining some freedom.

You applied for a few jobs in the hope to save enough money to move out again, even before you were scheduled to relocate to New York to attend your photography course, while your mother was busy shopping for Award Season dresses with your sister who was keen to be a third wheel at the Golden Globes and Oscars that year.

"Why do you even want to go to these award shows with them? I mean, don't you feel weird about it?" you questioned your twin-sister Cliona one evening, as the two of you sat together in the kitchen, eating leftover pizza and chatting, while your mother was putting Sadie to bed.

"Because it is fantastic for networking," she replied, chewing on a slice of pizza. "You never know who might be there and, besides, these events are great opportunities to show off," she added smugly, throwing a smug smile at you.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes and ignore her comment, allowing her to talk some more. Cliona had always been more interested in your stepfather's status than you had and, although you sometimes wished that you didn't care about her attitude towards his fame, it bothered you a lot lately.

In recent days, you had become particularly moody and being in a house with her and your mother, often alone, didn't help your nerves, despite the fact that you did love them.

On top of that, you had tried to push Cillian out of your head, telling yourself that what had happened between you two was a mistake and nothing more, but try as you might, you couldn't forget it.

You couldn't forget the way he had touched you, made love to you, or even just looked at you. You had never felt so desired in your life and although it scared you, it also excited you beyond belief.

It was a push-pull experience that made you yearn for his presence while, at the same time, you wanted things to go back to the way there were before, when you didn't have these feelings of guilt and shame constantly lingering over you when your mother and twin-sister were around.

"So you aren't coming to any of the awards then?" Cliona repeated her previous question with a pout, which mad you realise that, this entire time, when you were thinking about Cillian, she had been talking to you.

"W-what?" you said, snapping out of your daze. "Um, no, I won't be attending any of the awards shows with you guys. It's not for me and I have too much on my plate at the moment," you lied, even though you had no job and not much to do, other than wait for your course to start.

Cliona shrugged. "Suit yourself," she said, as if implying that you were missing out on a great opportunity, before finishing off her slice of pizza and standing up from her chair.

"Well, I'm heading to bed. See you tomorrow," she added, before walking out of the kitchen and leaving you alone in your thoughts.

You sighed and leaned back in your chair, staring out the window just as your phone beeped, signaling a new text message.

"You've got the job!" was the message written in big bold letters on the screen from the nice bartender at a local establishment to which a friend had introduced you to the day before.

Excitement bubbled inside of you, and your troubles seemed to vanish at the sight of the single message. You were absolutely broke , so this opportunity couldn't have come at a better time. You would be able to start working within the next few days, which provided a sense of financial security and a diversion from the drama you had created with Cillian.

Cillian, himself, arrived back home later that week just as you were about to head out for your first shift at the bar.

You were dressed casually in a pair of dark jeans, a fitted grey shirt and your hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail.

"Hey," you greeted Cillian as he walked through the door, looking exhausted but happy to see you, his eyes lighting up as they met yours.

"Hey," he replied, retaining his distance which, in your opinion, made this encounter somewhat awkward.

Luckily for you though, you were an expert in the art of small talk and, even though you hadn't mastered it, your tone sounded light and casual.

"How was your flight?" you asked, as he placed his luggage down and unzipped his jacket.

"Long," Cillian replied with a weary sigh before his eyes met yours again.

The connection was undeniable, burning with a passion that refused to quell. But he had his integrity, and perhaps that was something he would never compromise. Not even for you.

"Where are you off to?" Cillian inquired, his gaze falling on your outfit while you were fidgeting with the house keys.

"Oh, I've got a job now ," you informed him cheerfully, attempting to keep your tone light while trying to overcome the fluttering feelings in your chest.

"Where at?" Cillian asked, raising an eyebrow, and you wanted to smile at his enthusiasm, but you held back, taking a deep breath instead.

"Just a bar, in town. It's called O'Rielly's and is really nothing special," you lied, trying to downplay the significance of this job, but Cillian could see right through it.

"That's great though," he said with a warm smile, making your heart flutter uncontrollably. "Well done," he told you, knowing how you wanted to pay your own way.

"Thanks. I really needed this. I was starting to feel like a burden around here," you muttered, not meaning to make the conversation heavy.

Cillian narrowed his gaze upon hearing that, sensing there was something more to your statement.

"You're not a burden, Y/N, and you never have been," he asserted, closing the distance between you, his hands resting on your upper arms reassuringly.

"Oh, I am sure my mother would disagree with you right now," you chuckled, not wanting to tell him about the many fights you had with her in recent days, all because you felt like a leech living in her house. "But listen, I really have to go. My shift starts at six," you said, zipping your jacket closed and slinging your bag over your shoulder.

"Do you want me to drive you?" Cillian offered, breaking through your thoughts.

For a brief moment, you imagined what it would be like to spend a few more minutes alone with him in the car. But you quickly shook off that dangerous thought.

"Thanks, but I can take the bus," you said, smiling weakly. "Despite, you just got off a six-hour flight," you added.

Cillian opened his mouth to protest, but you cut him off. "No, really. I've got this," you insisted, already moving towards the door.

Cillian sighed, looking like he wanted to say more, but he seemed to think better of it. "Alright, but call me when you get off work. I will pick you up. You shouldn't take the bus that late," he said, his voice firm.

You paused and looked back at him. "You worry too much," you said, but there was a small smile on your faces as you said it since you found his concern heartwarming.

"Only because I care," he replied with a warm smile before he allowed you to leave.

When you arrived at the bar for your shift, you found it bustling with people, eager to escape their daily routine. You took a deep breath to steady your nerves and walked behind the bar, where the manager was waiting for you.

"Ah, Y/N! It's good to see you. Here, put this on," she said, handing you a shirt. "I'll show you the ropes."

The first few hours flew by quickly, with you learning the ins and outs of the bar, how to make drinks, take orders, and keep the customers happy.

The pace was fast but exciting, and you found yourself enjoying the buzz around you, serving drinks, laughing with the patrons and relishing in the anonymity and the freedom that came with working at a separate place of employment.

When things started to slow down, you checked the time on your phone and saw it was already after midnight. There was no way Cillian would still be up, you thought to yourself, as you dried your hands on your apron and walked towards the front of the bar but, just as you were about to bring up the bus schedule again, your phone buzzed with a new message.

"I'm still picking you up," it read, causing your heart to skip a beat.

You smiled to yourself, thankful for his concern and hit 'Reply,' typing out a quick thanks and an estimated time for the end of your shift. You knew that there was still some cleaning up to do, which would take about thirty minutes or more.

You put your phone back into your apron’s pocket and got to work, finishing up as quickly as possible and the friendly bar manager, Jeremy, offered you a drink on the house after you finished lifting up all the chairs.

"You did extremely well today," he praised, touching your shoulder. "And thanks for taking the shift last minute, you really saved me," he smiled, noting that you weren't actually meant to start until the week after.

"I am glad I could help," you responded before noticing him flirting a little with you.

"I enjoyed working with you tonight Y/N. I am serious," Jeremy added with a wink, making you blush slightly and laugh off his compliment. "And you can have as many shifts as you want," he went on to say, which caught you off-guard, since most places usually put new hires on a light schedule.

"Oh, really?" you asked, trying to hide your surprise. "I mean, that sounds good," you added hastily, before taking another sip of your drink.

"Absolutely. I would love to have you on the team, you are a star already," Jeremy complimented you again, causing your face to flush with heat.

You chuckled nervously and glanced down at your phone, checking the time, and saw a message from Cillian: "I will be there in a minute," it read, making you plan your exit.

"I, uhm, I gotta go now if that's okay?" you said shyly, biting your lip as you met Jeremy's gaze. His eyes lingered on your lips for a moment longer than necessary before he looked away, just as Cillian reluctantly pushed open the door to the bar, looking straight at the two of you.

"We are closed," Jeremy announced, trying to sound imposing, but you interrupted him.

"It's okay. He is just...uhm...picking me up," you stammered, shuffling your feet nervously as you broke eye contact with Jeremy. "He won't let me take the bus and now this is all really awkward," you then blurted out, causing Cillian to raise an eyebrow.

"I am Cillian. Y/N's..." Cillian paused before saying the word. "Stepfather," he clarified hesitantly, offering a polite smile and his hand to Jeremy for a handshake. There was a slight tension in the air as Jeremy hesitantly shook Cillian's hand, eyeing him carefully, before finally giving you a nod.

"Oh, right. Of course," Jeremy said, seeming to understand that there was nothing more to this interaction, which made you feel more at ease.

"I'll just...uhm...go and get my things from the back then," you muttered nervously before quickly scurrying towards the back room to collect your belongings.

You could feel both Cillian's and Jeremy's eyes on you as you gathered your coat and bag, your heart hammering away in your chest.

You had never been very good at hiding your emotions, and it seemed that both men had picked up on you feeling somewhat out of place right now.

"Okay, I'm ready," you eventually said, brushing a lock of hair out of your face as you walked back out to the front of the bar and, after Jeremy thanked you for your hard work, you followed Cillian out of the door, your heart still racing.

"You know you really didn't have to stay up for me," you said as Cillian opened the car door for you.

"I know. But I wanted to make sure you got home safely. Besides, I was still up anyway," he replied, his tone serious.

As you sat next to him in his car, you couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious about Jeremy and how he had been looking at you throughout the night and, it was also something that Cillian had picked upon.

"Everything okay?" Cillian asked, seeming to sense your discomfort.

"Yeah, everything's fine," you lied, forcing a smile.

"I can see the bar manager has already taken a liking in you," Cillian said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

"Yeah, I think, maybe, he has," you confirmed, looking out of the window of the car as Cillian expertly drove through the quiet streets of the city.

"Then again, he works in a bar. I am sure he has taken a liking to many women who have worked there," Cillian replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

You remained silent for a moment, trying to decipher his intent, but you chose not to press further at that moment.

"Are you jealous?" you blurted out, immediately regretting the words as soon as they left your lips. It was the last thing you wanted to imply, given the circumstances.

Cillian glanced at you and raised an eyebrow, causing you to quickly backtrack.

"I mean, not that you have any reason to be, of course. I am just your stepdaughter after all," you added hastily, your cheeks flushed as you watched Cillian's expression soften.

"No, I'm not jealous," he replied softly. "I am just concerned about you, that's all. I don't want to see you getting hurt."

"Sure, we will leave at that," you nodded, understanding his concern, and looked away, embarrassed that you had even brought it up.

The rest of the car ride was quiet, with neither of you speaking. But, despite the silence, the tension between you two was palpable. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, and your heartbeat quickened as you tried to ignore the thoughts and images that swirled in your mind.

The memories of the connection you shared, the intimacy you both had experienced, and the desire that still lingered, seemed to be clouding your judgement, and you couldn't help but long for that closeness again.

The car pulled up outside the house, and Cillian turned off the engine, allowing the silence to envelop you. He shifted in his seat as he glanced at you, his gaze piercing through the darkness. You could sense that he was trying to read your thoughts, but you couldn't find the words to explain what was going on in your head.

Your mind was a whirlwind of emotions, conflicting desires, and unspoken truths that clashed together, creating turbulence you were struggling to navigate.

"We should go inside and get some rest. It's late," you said softly, your eyes meeting Cillian's. There was a lingering tension between you both, as if his gaze could combust the emotions resparking within you.

"Yeah," Cillian replied after a moment, his voice almost a whisper. He let out a long breath before he opened his car door, stepping out on the pavement.

Only after he had fully closed the car door did you realize that you had been holding your breath. It was then that you released it in a sigh, feeling strangely disappointed that the night had ended like this, with awkwardness and silence and no connection between you both, except the remembered one.

You quickly exited his car, feeling embarrassed at how much your feelings for him had control over you at times, now that he was ignoring them too.

"Goodnight, Y/N," Cillian muttered, almost under his breath after you both stepped inside, as if he was too afraid to say it any louder.

You turned to him, your eyes wide with surprised and confusion, before you replied with a hoarse "Goodnight" and walking up the stairs, leaving Cillian to stand alone in the hallway.

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22

#cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fic #cillian x fem!reader #cillian x reader #cillian fic #cillian fanfic

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cinnamorwll · 4 months ago

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𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙮 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜… ᕱᕱ

ᡣ𐭩 hiii <3 my name is Anthony but you can call me tony!! i'm new to this lovely landscape called tumblr

ᡣ𐭩 my birthday is on the second day of the year every year! and i'm excited to finally turn 17 and have an edward cullen cake

ᡣ𐭩 i'm a boy but i swear i have thoughts!! like why Wi-Fi never works well when i need it most

ᡣ𐭩 i'm a native portuguese speaker and i also speak italian, english and i try to learn spanish but the only thing i do is watch soy luna with subtitles

ᡣ𐭩 i love listening to music, reading, drawing, autumn, vintage stuff, poetry, fashion, self-care, pinterest, video essays, cartoons, hot chocolate, and writing my stories that i plan to turn into films in the future

ᡣ𐭩 music: boygenius, wallows, the smiths, inhaler, blur, cocteau twins, jeff buckley, hozier, ruel, lizzy mcalpine, fiona apple, lana del rey, ethel cain, laufey, reneé rapp, gracie abrams, clairo, madison beer + plenty more!

ᡣ𐭩 actresses: audrey hepburn, shelley duvall, brigitte bardot, sharon tate, brittany murphy, dakota fanning, elle fanning, taylor russell, saoirse ronan & clara bow

ᡣ𐭩 movies: the secret garden, little women, a series of unfortunate events, dead poets society, mysterious skin, coraline, the lovely bones, lady bird, the secret of moonacre, the virgin suicides, uptown girls, matilda, aquamarine, the parent trap & studio ghibli movies!

ᡣ𐭩 tv shows: modern family, gilmore girls, gossip girl, the baby-sitters club, the vampire diaries, the office, brooklyn 99, tslocg, sex and the city, anne with an E, once upon a time, skins, the 100, over the garden wall, hilda & summer camp island!!

ᡣ𐭩 fav colors: preacher’s daughter brown, midnight rain navy blue & dark red ultraviolence (these colors are real, i didn’t make them up)

ᡣ𐭩 here i intend to post collages, “whispers”, things related to films, literature and some of the thoughts that keep me awake at night, like the fact that maybe i’m a lost poem by clarice lispector or a deer transformed into a human

ᡣ𐭩 this is supposed to be a safe place for anyone of any ethnicity, gender identity, etc. but if you’re racist, zionist, homophobic, religious intolerant or practice any other type of prejudice, please leave

ᡣ𐭩 feel free to follow me on my socials and i promise to follow you back!! (except if you're the type of person who doesn't return books that were lent to you)

⋆.˚ pinterest ˚.⋆ ⋆.˚ letterboxd ˚.⋆ ⋆.˚ instagram ˚.⋆

ᡣ𐭩 thank you so much for reading, you can tell that i can talk a lot but i'm also a great listener! so please comment something so we can be mutuals and feel comfortable to DM me <3

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foldingfittedsheets · 5 months ago

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O bringer of mattress wisdom, please may I ask a question? I'm sorry, I know this isn't actually your job to troubleshoot beds for all your followers. Long story short, need a second bed in the place (the number of people who crash here overnight without warning is getting out of hand) but I absolutely cannot afford a proper one, not even a twin. There's not much space so we're looking for which of my options is the least worst basically. I was thinking a futon so that it can serve as seating in the day and be folded out at night. That's much more affordable than any other option. Or a sofa bed that basically does the same thing but that would be second-hand. Is there a least terrible option here? I know you said murphy beds for space saving but I'm honestly not sure that's in my budget. We're aiming for one step above blanket on the floorboards here. Sorry. Love you.

I’d lean toward Facebook marketplace and Craigslist. If you’re patient and diligent there’s good shit that pops up for really cheap. Futons are my favorite cheap option.

Be prepared to do some cleaning but as someone who’s been at the poverty level for years you can go cheap if you’re patient and persistent.

#ask ffs #bed talk

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star-wrote · 5 months ago

Note

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.”

#murphy macmanus #murphy macmanus x reader #murphy macmanus x fem!reader #norman reedus #the boondock saints #boondock saints #fluff #daryl dixon

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starkwlkr · 1 year ago

Note

It's ok if the request got deleted no need to say sorry,

Can u pls make a fic about papa nolan finding out about cillian and physicist!reader's relationship,

Like would he be angry or accepting, i was wondering

And then if u r comfortable with it then a time jump to the wedding or pregnancies

I would really like to know his reactions!!

This is really just a follow up to another anon request (which u made a fic on) and had this idea

Anyway so sorry for the long request

Have an awesome day ahead!!!!

nolan!reader x cillian murphy headcanons

I’m going to make these headcanons if that’s ok 🫶🏼🫶🏼 and i think i got carried away but who cares 😌

Ok so obviously y/n and cillian met in the early 2000s (you can make up how they met)

papa nolan knows that y/n is talking to a boy but he doesn’t know it’s mr. ‘my eyes aren’t even that blue’ so when y/n tells papa nolan that her bf is coming over for dinner, he’s preparing to meet so douche bag who says his favorite movie is pulp fiction or fight club (nothing wrong with that, but the film bros make me want to gauge my eyes out)

anyways, cillian shows up and ofc they get along great <3

after cillian and y/n are now OFFICIAL official obviously the press asks about what papa nolan thinks and if they get along

y/n and cillian are just the it couple of the 2000s like they’re on the cover of every magazine with those cheesy headlines ‘she’s got the beauty AND the brains’

literally any interview cillian or papa nolan do, they ramble about y/n and how proud they are of her

and you know how it goes, first comes love then comes marriage then comes y/n with a baby carriage🤍💍🍼 butttttt our fav nepo baby and Irish man don’t do it in that order bc my girl y/n got pregnant with their first baby in 2003 and she’s named alexandria

papa nolan is so excited about the birth of baby alex and he always offers to babysit whenever even if he’s busy

baby alex and papa nolan are my favorite duo 🫶🏼

eventually cillian and papa nolan work together on batman begins and you bet that baby alex is always on set

papa nolan at first did not want to bring her because he thought alex would be scared but she loved being on set and meeting everyone

her and christian bale become besties by the end of filming 🤞🏼

baby alex got to say the last “cut!” and everyone laughed because of how cute she sounded

bonus: cillian tried to get her to put the scarecrow mask on but she thought it was yucky (her exact words)

y/n and cillian don’t have kids until like 2014 because they were busy with work obviously like cillian getting movie roles and y/n being at work 24/7 and getting a literal nobel peace prize but eventually she does get pregnant and BAM it’s twins

it’s 2014 and they’re still not married (it happens ya know just ask academy award winner michelle yeoh)

but y/n gets pregnant and she wants to wait until the twins’ birth and then get married

but anyways the murphy twins arrive and papa nolan just cries happy tears because he now has more grandchildren to love and spoil whenever he wants to (they’re named scarlett and wyatt and papa nolan gives them nicknames idk what they would be but go wild with your imagination besties 🫶🏼)

papa nolan just wants to see his daughter get married and see her happy with her new family 🫶🏼

the day of the wedding comes and baby alex is the flower girl and steals the show

it’s a private wedding BUT that doesn’t stop it from being the most famous wedding of 2014

ofc christian bale is there like who doesn’t want batman at their wedding?? tom hardy, best man um yes?! peaky blinders cast, jake gyllenhaal (swifties, don’t hate me, I love jake and he’s one of my favorite actors)

jessica chastain and anne hathaway ofc they’re invited

u know if heath ledger was still alive he would def be invited 🫶🏼

I’m picturing the kids having career day at their schools and each kid takes an adult like papa nolan goes to alex’s school, wyatt takes y/n and cillian goes with scarlett and every adult is just like “fuck, how am i supposed to go on after them?!”

papa nolan goes all out with his presentation for career day like he even called hans zimmer and christian bale to impress the kids (obviously hans zimmer would impress the teachers, not the kids but some kids recognize the music from batman movies so let’s just go with it)

twitter loves the murphy-nolan fam 🫶🏼

no bc i just imagine the edits to beautiful boy with dad!cillian and I’m bawling

ok ok flashforward to 2023 and oppenheimer is coming out and twitter gets more content on the murphy-nolan fam

y/n finally does an interview bc she worked with the cast and taught them about ��science✨

Y/N AND CILLIAN AT THE OPPENHEIMER PREMIERE AND THEN PAPA NOLAN PHOTOBOMBING THEIR PICS

overall the murphy-nolan fam has my heart and surprise! the murphy kids watched barbie because the twins are not even old enough to watch oppenheimer and I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t want to watch their dad have fake s e x with another woman (FLORENCE PUGH ILY)

#inbox <3 #anon #cillian murphy one shot #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy x reader #nolan!reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy #headcanon

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funkytownwinchester · 5 months ago

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SPN Gif Masterlist

Parallels

Jack and Cas - "I love you. I love you all."

Sam and Dean - "I can't do this alone."

Dean - S01 vs. S12

Misc (Actors)

Jensen and Jared pose for the camera

Jensen and Jared dancing/striking poses in blooper reels

Jensen's smile

Jensen winks at the camera

Jensen laughing in bloopers - part 1

Jensen laughing in bloopers - part 2

Jared laughing in bloopers

Misha laughing in bloopers

Jared looking good

Dancing in the cage

"I've got dialogue."

Jared's social media joke

Jensen squishing Jared's arm

Jensen throws a bottle at Jared's head

Misc (Characters)

Out of context reaction images

Sam helping Dean through moments of anxiety

Dean cradling Sam's face

Dean's nicknames for Cas

Crowley poses

Dean opens Sam's beer

Cas flirts with the camera

Dean's little wiggle

Cas and Dean dancing

Smiling family

Dean fights a pillow

"Why were you praying to him?" / "'cause he's my friend."

Dean eating a powdered donut

Dean clings to Sam

Dean's knees stop working

Dean in a vest

Dean tackles Sam

Click 'keep reading' for a list of all my gifs, separated by seasons.

Season 1

S01E01 - "Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole."

S01E01 - Sam and Dean interview two girls in a cafe

S01E01 - Dean's boobs

S01E05 - Dean smashes the mirror terrorising Sam

S01E14 - Dean being a big brother to Sam

Season 2

S02E03 - "Lighten up, Sammy!"

S02E04 - Sam and Dean, the grief counselors

S02E09 - Dean refuses to let anyone hurt Sam

S02E10 - Ava attends therapy

S02E15 - Conjoined twins

S02E19 - Dean gets his mugshot taken

S02E19 - Dean and Sam bicker in front of Deacon

S02E20 - Dean escapes his djinn-cursed reality

S02E22 - "You're my big brother. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you."

Season 3

S03E03 - Sam loses his shoe

S03E06 - Dean loses it when Bella has his car towed

S03E07 - Dean gets fed on and tossed around

S03E11 - "Rise 'n' shine, Sammy!"

S03E11 - Dean asks if a bra he found is Sam's

S03E11 - Sam makes it to Wednesday for the last time

S03E14 - Dean's little eyebrow wiggle

Season 4

S04E08 - Dean says 'please'.

S04E10 - Alistair chokes Cas

Season 5

S05E03 - Cas calls Raphael a little bitch

S05E07 - Dean's happy dance

S05E08 - Son of a bitch

S05E14 - Endverse!Cas laughing at everything that pisses endverse!Dean off

S05E17 - "Don't ask stupid questions."

S05E22 - Cas, the little angel

S05E22 - Dean's not gonna let Sam die alone

Season 6

S06E03 - Dean prays to Cas

S06E11 - Bobby's suicide joke

Season 7

S07E02 - Dean talking Sam down during hallucinations

S07E09 - Dean gets drugged by a sandwich

S07E21 - Cas giggles

S07E21 - The aftermath of Cas taking on Sam's trauma

Season 8

S08E04 - "Do I really say awesome a lot?"

S08E05 - Benny bickering with Cas

S08E10 - Cas is tormented

S08E20 -Dean asks Sam to punch him

Season 9

S09E05 - Dean hopes to interrogate a canine witness using a spell that lets him speak with animals

S09E11 - Sam the guinea pig

S09E11 - "It's the bloody mark of Cain!"

S09E15 - Thinman tries to kill Dean

S09E16 - "You don't know what it's like to be human!"

S09E22 - "I got this."

S09E22 - Cas and word play

Season 10

S10E02 - Demon!Dean looking hot.

S10E05 - "I'm gonna Barbra Streisand this bitch."

S10E06 - Murphy's law

S10E08 - Dean's pretend job

S10E14 - Dean collapses on Sam's shoulder

Season 11

S11E03 - Cas collapses from the attack dog spell

S11E16 - Bobby asks if Rufus has ever been nice

S11E16 - Sam holds Dean

S11E19 - Dean teases Sam for smoking in college

S11E21 - Dean informs Sam that he's babbling

Season 12

S12E09 - Cas doesn't regret saving the Winchesters (part 1)

S12E10 - Cas doesn't regret saving the Winchesters (part 2)

Season 13

S13E08 - Someone insults Sam in front of Dean

S13E18 - Ketch cares for Dean

S13E16 - "Be like Elsa; let it go."

Season 14

S14E03 - Dean makes fun of Sam's beard.

S14E04 - Sam's messed up childhood.

Season 15

S15E01 - Dean tells a joke while cleaning Sam's wound

S15E08 - Cas being sarcastic

#supernatural #spn #supernatural fandom #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural gif #spn gifs #castiel #castiel novak

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toxicanonymity · 10 months ago

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boyd-a-thon fic drive.

In this event, I donate $10/fic to Palestine Children's Relief Fund for smutty Boyd Holbrook character fics. You write a fic, 500-3k words. To participate, please tag #boyd-a-thon, me, and @lustaffairs.

Event Masterlist (ongoing). Optional Prompts

Done: 20 | Remaining: 10

I went ahead and made all the donations, but would love for people to keep participating and be added to the masterlist until it reaches 30 fics.

BACKGROUND: In thanks for these fics, I donated $10/fic to palestine children's relief fund, which is a top rated organization on charity navigator. I decided to continue this for more fics.

It can be any character on Boyd's IMDB, including - Donald Pierce (Logan), Clement Mansell (Justified City Primeval), Billy (Skeleton Twins), Amos Jenkins (Little Accidents) Mo Lundy (The Free World), Steve Murphy (Narcos), Ty Shaw (Vengeance 2022), and more. . .There's not always a steady flow of Boyd character fics, the fandom deserves to feast (including the amazing gifmakers), and this is what I crave.

I don't care if I've never heard of you, or if it's your first fic. It can be porn without plot. It can be an AU like mafia, stepcest, etc. it can be out of character. 500-3k words? Brownie points from me for vaginal sex or jacking off. But this isn't limited to F/M, you can do a reader or character pairing of your choice.

Target - April 30 but no hard deadline.

PLEASE USE A READMORE text divider🙏 so I can reblog, and please include approximate word count if you don't mind. There will also be a masterlist. If I don't interact within a day, please DM. I will donate at the end of each week.

current gif by @boydholbrook-fan <33 always amazing

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I made a pcrf acct for this purpose but have also donated multiple times without an account, and it was very easy. I didn't even have to give my phone number. You can choose any amount to give. You don't have to use their pre-set amounts.

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$10 is comparable to ~15,000 clicks (on arab.org).

Last donation: May 25

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#boyd holbrook #boyd bungalow ☠️#fic event #amos jenkins x reader #mo lundy x reader #ty shaw x reader #clement mansell x reader #clement mansell #donald pierce x reader #spank bank donation drive #boyd-a-thon #big dick steve murphy

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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 24 days ago

Text

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.

#murda writes #murphy macmanus #the boondock saints #boondock saints #murphy macmanus x reader #Spotify

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