#macxreader

Vis a Vis (Angst and SMUT)

Hope (NOT SMUT) (part 2)

Noah (NOT SMUT)

Noah part 2 (NOT SMUT)

Yer so damn clumsy (NOT SMUT)

Blind Dates (NOT SMUT)

Are you cum?

Fucking redneck!

Fucking redneck! part 2

Halloween's Night

Howl

Music and Chickens

Rosemary Water (NOT SMUT)

Poison (NOT SMUT)

Our Past (SMUT) (Part 2)

Marked (AlphaDaryl SMUT)

Your Name Masterlist(Mini Series)

The Witcher (Halloween One Shot)

Our Story Masterlist

Alpha & Omega (AlphaDaryl Dixon)

MacxFem!Reader.

Freedom.*

The three of Us. (Part 2) (final part)

Freedom.*

Unlucky Girl

MurphyxFem!Reader.

Hellhound (part 2)

Better life (FLUFF)

Russell Welch x FemReader.

Protect You(MINI SERIES)

Wild Alpha (SMUT)

Kirby x FemReader.

Movies (FLUFF)

Travis x FemReader.

Good Friend (FLUFF)

Van x FemReader

The collague girl.

Norman Reedus x Fem!Reader.

Hitchhiking

Hitchhiking dark part 2

Wanna Fuck

Stay   (Wanna fuck part 2)

Keys (wanna fuck part 3)

The seven Deadly Sins.

Awkward moment that you met Norman Reedus.

Picnic (Toying Time Prequel) (SMUT)

Strangers

Saint Or Evil (SMUT)

Favor between Neighbors (SMUT WITH FLANERY)

Bauer x Femreader.

Stay Together.

New World, New Life

Lewis Payne x Femreader.

My last wish

John Rollins x FemReader.

The Farmer Masterlist.

Vincent Harris x FemReader.

Dog Sitter

Judas x Femreader.

12 Apostles Masterlist

*****

Tags: @toomanyfandomsshreya @writtenbyblair

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Prompt: ‘You’re a terrible liar. I’ve known you far too long to be able to tell.’

Tapping your fingers against the empty coffee mug, Blends insignia emblazoned on the side, you sighed. He was late. This was the third date in a row. Checking your watch, you bitterly thought, half an hour. It wasn’t as bad as the restaurant. At least you’d thought to bring a book with you. It was still in your bag, you hadn’t the heart to take it out in case you missed him.

Running a hand through your hair, you groaned. Your phone stared at you, willing you to send the text you’d drafted several times before. All you’d need to do is press send. The draft had been saved for months now.

You were about to unlock your phone and send it, completely unforgiving of the consequences when someone called your name. Looking up, your eyes widened.

Blond hair, blue eyes and a smile that lifted your spirit immediately. Your hand still hesitated over your phone as he took the seat opposite you.

‘Hey Mac,’ you forced a smile to your face.

‘How have you been?’ He asked, reaching inside his jacket. ‘Can I get you a drink?’

‘I’m fine,’ you replied quickly. ‘No thank you, I was just leaving.’ Your palms were sweaty as you moved them to wipe them across your jeans. Your ignored the small quiver in your voice, as you thought about the real reason you were there.

‘You’re a terrible liar,’ he told you softly. Before you could look up and protest indignantly, he added, ‘I’ve known you far too long. I can tell when you’re lying. What’s going on?’

You shook your head. It would do no good for someone else to get involved. Not when you’d shut everyone else out.

‘Okay then. I’ll get us both drinks and you can decide when you’re ready.’ 

As he got up he shrugged his jacket off and left it on the back of the chair. You watched him grab his wallet and walk towards the counter. He hadn’t even asked your choice of drink, yet you saw him order one for you anyway. A warmth rose in your body, of course he didn’t need to ask. You’d known him years. 

Unlocking your phone, before you could chicken out, you sent the break up text. Although you felt sick, Mac turned from the till and gave you a smile that seemed to tell you everything would be okay. 

As Mac carried the drinks over, your phone buzzed with a text. From him. Glancing over it, you caught the words you wished were never true. Before you could reply to it, Mac placed the tray down and grabbed your phone. 

‘Ignore him, he doesn’t deserve you. He’s an idiot.’

‘That’s putting it mildly.’

‘Anyone that leaves someone they care about in a coffee shop with no explanation doesn’t deserve to stay. We’ve got a lot to catch up on. It’s been too long.’ He told you, handing the phone back. 

You smiled, this one coming more genuinely. It had been too long. You missed your friend, and if you could start by opening up to one person, it should be easier to try and reconnect with everyone you’d shut out. 

                                                         ***

Too long turned into another two drinks, which Mac paid for much to your protests, and the promise of monthly meet ups. And that suited you just fine. You vowed you’d never leave it too long to see him again. 

A/N

I’m sorry, I really hate how cheesy this ending was. And how meh it was in general. That’s the reality of writing and trying to get out of a writing slump. And I wanted to show you unedited, first draft, half-ditch attempts of desperately clinging to a prompt. 

I’m not sure when I’ll next update a written piece, but this was long overdue. I’ll see you soon!

You're done with it.

You're pissed off, but you know it's your fault. No one forced you to stay. No one forced you to be with him. Everyone in town knew the rumors, and the rumors about him, yet he came to you with that mischievous smile, that look full of mystery and danger, that gesture that showed he had the situation where he wanted it and that you were not going to be able to escape. And you didn't. His intense blue gaze, normally tarnished by red veins from being drugged, dug into you like two daggers and kept you close to him ever since.

You knew what he was doing in the caves outside of town, he along with his buddies, just as over the top as he was, mentally damaged in some way, cooking meth, selling it in town to young and not so young, shipping it all over most of Utah, which surprised you. At first you thought it was for your own consumption and maybe your neighbors, but his buddies were taking it seriously. The women's problems, you never wanted to hear all the hoaxes that existed about what happened when some young woman, mostly from some neighboring town, suddenly disappeared.

You let yourself go, you let him envelop you with his kisses, his touch, surprisingly his dirty words, all that gave him an air of mystery and danger was what caught you from him.

The sex was good too, very good. Wild, rough, intense. He never seemed to get enough of you, whenever he came home, no matter how late it was, or what you were doing. He would take you over. He'd put you against the floor, the kitchen table or on the dirty mattress he called a bed. Somehow, though, things went awry, wild, rough and intense, but fun, it turned into a fight. You wanted to try to change him. He couldn't change. The hair pulling became a pincer around your neck that barely let you breathe, the kisses and hickeys were now bites and scratches so deep they would be scarred into your skin for days. You even had a bite on your neck that he loved to remark on, for over a year now. Tentative spankings, turned into hand slaps when you refused to do something he wanted.

You bite your lip as his teeth close on the skin of your shoulder, leaving a new mark, you feel the thin threads of blood run down your shoulder and you close your eyes holding in the pain.

"Mac..." you gasp clutching the edge of the kitchen counter.

He growls, his fingers close around your waist and he pushes harder inside you. He holds you by the hair tightly and thrusts harder and harder, deeper and deeper. You moan feeling that he is about to cum. He grunts again and his nails dig into your skin. He's not looking for your pleasure, he's high and just wants to cum. That was also a point against this whole 'relationship'. In the beginning you were able to cum once or twice before he did. Now Mac comes in so high and drunk that sometimes he only needs to get it in once to cum, leaving you pissed off and needy.

He pulls away from you and you gasp at the empty feeling. Mac pulls you to your knees in front of him. He hasn't even made the effort to take off his overalls, he just unzips his fly to pull his cock out and fuck you. He rubs it in his hand, tugs on your hair again and brushes the tip against your lips.

"Open yer mouth..." he growls.

You don't want to obey, you know he isn’t going to be nice to you, you can see his eyes redden and his jaw unhinge. He's too high and drunk. You clench your jaw as he tries to open your mouth. Mac slaps his hand against your cheek and you gasp in pain and surprise. You look at him out of the corner of your eye and see him biting his lip in anger. His hand closes around your jaw.

"Open yer mouth, ya whore. Don't make me tell ya once again." He growls.

You tremble, feel the pain in your cheek, your skin throbbing from the blow and you're sure it's turning a reddish color. His thumb tries to open your mouth again, pressing against your lips, you feel the bitter taste of the engine oil from his hands and you make a disgruntled move. You open your mouth at his insistence, and feel yourself choke. His cock forces its way into your mouth roughly.

"Look at ya, with that slut face, with all my fucking cock on yer mouth..." You feel him press to the back of your throat causing you to gag, but it doesn't stop him, he pushes again and you feel him choking you again. "If ya bite me, I'll rip yer teeth off..." He assures you in a dark voice. His fingers tangle cruelly in your hair, he gives you no respite, his cock moves in and out of your mouth, pushing as far down your throat as possible, your nose buries itself in his pubic hair, wet from his sweat and your saliva. He stays wedged inside your mouth and you hear him gasp and snort as he cums in your mouth. Gagging becomes more intense because you really can't breathe, between his cock and his cum your mouth is full, you swallow his cum trying to catch your breath, your eyes fill with tears from desperation. You dare to look at him, your eyes cloudy with tears, he watches you with accelerated breathing and a cruel smile, he licks his lips and pushes your head back, pulling his cock out of your mouth.

Several strands of cum and saliva connect his cock and your mouth as he pulls away, you feel the wet smack against your cheek and it leaves a sticky trail against your skin. His smile turns into a drugged-out grimace. He bends down to take you by the arms, manipulates you carelessly laying you down on his bed. The stale, dirty smell of the sheets forces you to grimace. His mouth runs over your body again, bites, licks, scratches your skin, reddening marks that were already losing their color. You're not important to him, Mac doesn't have that ability, but he doesn't tolerate anyone else touching you, he likes to make it clear who you belong to.

He breaks away from you rummaging in the pocket of his overalls, you tremble as he spreads something on your belly and sniffs loudly. Your face breaks down into a grimace of distaste. Mac licks the remains of the white powder, bites and sucks your skin leaving a new purple mark next to your navel. You feel his gaze on you, he pulls away and you hear the street door open and close.

The next day you wake up with a sore body, your cheek burns and your body aches with every movement you make. Your throat feels raw and you know it will be a while before you can speak properly. You leave the room to get something to eat, you doubt Mac has anything in the fridge, but sometimes he remembers that he has to eat too, that whiskey doesn't feed him. You stand in the kitchen doorway discovering Mac's body on the floor, there is vomit on one side and his mouth is full of foam and vomit.

"Mac?" you panic walking over to him, you check with relief that he is breathing, that whatever has happened to him, he is okay now and is just unconscious.

Your heart is pounding brutally in your temples, like a warning. You look around, Mac is alone, you are alone at home. You check again that he is not choking on his own vomit and get up from his side and go back into the room. You don't have much money, you don't find much in the man's pockets either, but it's enough to put a few miles between you. You quickly get dressed, grab a backpack and put on some clothes and get ready to leave. You take one last look at the man still lying on the dirty kitchen floor and turn around.

It's time to get the hell out of there.

The good thing about Mac living outside the village is that you can take his truck without anyone seeing you leave, or at least without anyone suspecting that you are leaving, it isn’t the first time you take the man's car to go to the village and tidy up the house a bit. After several miles away you leave the van at the side of a bus station where you take the bus that can take you farthest. You stop in several cities and after a few weeks getting money in quick jobs with endless schedules, you start moving again. You never stay in one place for too long. You know Utah is a long way away, but you always have the feeling that you're being watched all the time.

As if Mac has never been left behind.

You get off the last bus you've taken to Boston. It's a huge and noisy city, but you hope you can settle down there for a while longer without fear of being discovered. You rub the skin on your arms nervously. The marks that Mac left on you several days ago still haven't faded, and you're sure many of them will never go away. You sigh long and hard when you discover that with the money you have left you won't have enough to find a place to sleep, so the first thing you do is look for a job. Boston is huge, you need to take a lot of buses to get around the city. You leave several resumes, talk to the managers of the establishments, but it's clear that no one is interested in hiring someone new. You sigh in frustration when you stop at a bar that looks like it has had a better life. There's a sign written in shaky handwriting looking for a waitress. You bite your lip looking around, the neighborhood doesn't look very welcoming, but you can't get fussy. You take a deep breath and enter the Irish pub "McGinty's" and you are immediately flooded by the soft music. Behind the bar is an older man with short, gray hair, chubby and big glasses. He's endearing and seems a little overwhelmed. You walk up to the bar and greet him with a gentle smile.

"Good morning." You introduce yourself and the man smiles too.

"G-Good morning, Can I help you with s-s-something, lass?" he smiles at you and stutters, letting out a curse at the end of the sentence that surprises you.

"I've seen the sign that you're looking for help and... I don't know if you've found a waitress yet..." You dare to venture over and the man looks at you with surprise. Apparently he didn't expect you to be there to ask for work.

"No, not yet, b-b-but tell me, do y-y-you have experience?"

"I've worked in several roadside bars, I know how to set glasses, change beer kegs..." You assure him and the man thinks about it, he's obviously older and some of those things must make it complicated for him.

"The pub is livelier at night, y-y-you can take care of the deliveries w-w-when they arrive in the morning and maybe some stiff will ask you for a coffee."

"That's okay, I think I can handle it." You joke smiling.

"O-okay, I'll need your p-p-personal details: name, age, a phone number and an a-address w-where I can reach you...Fuck! Ass!" The man curses again and you frown, no doubt he has some kind of peculiarity that makes him behave this way.

"I've just arrived to the city, I haven't settled anywhere yet, but I'll give it to you as soon as I can."

The man watches you, frowns slightly, he knows you're running from something or someone, even if you didn't have to tell him. Still he doesn't seem to mind. He nods and gestures for you to follow him. You sigh, feeling yourself relax instantly, and follow him.

Doc, your new boss, shows you the keys to the pub, explains where things are, how everything works and how he usually proceeds, he usually waits for a customer to show up, so it's a simple job. You thank him for the explanations and leave your backpack behind the bar, you put your hair in a ponytail and start cleaning the tables while Doc leaves to fix your papers.

You find yourself at ease in the environment almost as soon as you're in charge of everything. As Doc has told you, it's not busy during the day, so you have plenty of time to study and get to know every corner of the pub to help Doc as much as you can.

As the sun went down and the night made its appearance, the atmosphere gradually changed. At first it was one or two people arriving shyly, but gradually things got livelier. You enjoy the atmosphere, the music is loud, people are having fun, the cigarette smoke bothers you a little but you get used to it quickly.

You're just finishing clearing some tables when the pub door opens once again. The voices sound louder, more cheerful, you even see Doc, behind the bar, happy with the newcomers. They must be acquaintances or very special customers. You pick up the tankards, wipe the table and turn to return to the bar, but you bump into someone and as you look up, the tray falls from your hands.

Mac.

"Oh, shit! I'm sorry, lass!" You hear him say with an Irish accent that manages to set your heart on dial again.

"Murph! I told ya before, don't scared the ladies with yer ugly face!" You hear a shout from the bar and laughter erupts around you.

It's not Mac, in fact, the guy looks younger, maybe your age, yet his face bears a resemblance to him and that causes you to still be unable to move from where you are, breathing heavily, your body shaking.

"Shut up! I ain't scared her!" his voice sounds different too, a youthful, fun tone, more strident than Mac's raspy, gruff voice. "Yer right, lass?" His eyes dart to you and you finally manage to react. Yes, there's something strange that reminds you of Mac, but no, it's not him.

You quickly shake your head and smile trying to get back to normal.

"Yeah, sorry, I didn't see you..." You apologize to him and gesture away.

"Let me help ya." He offers and you quickly stop him.

"No need, thank you." You insist and turn around to go get the broom and pick up all the mess you've made, however he tries to grab your wrist and you turn violently, looking at him in fright.

"Murphy! Don't do me to go for ya! Move yer ass here!" You hear once again the same man call out to him. Murphy, as it seems his name is, looks at you in embarrassment and biting his lip turns away from you, walking back to the bar.

You regret how you have reacted, but you still feel your whole body in tension, you see how he sits next to the man who has been calling him and he says something to him giving him a blow in the back of the head, which the other responds almost immediately, getting into a comical fight that stopped the rest of the companions who were at the bar. You sigh and return to your common sense, put the tray aside and pick up the broom cleaning up the mess. You just hope Doc doesn't get too mad at what you've done. You go back to the bar and approach the newcomers, they still don't have anything to drink and Doc talks to them animatedly.

"Can I get you guys anything?" You try to look calm, but your gaze avoids the guy you bumped into earlier.

"Two pints." One of them asks you and smiles at you, you return the gesture and grab two glasses going to the beer shooter. "Who's she, Doc? granddaughter?"

"N-no, she's helping me with the p-p-pub, fuck! Ass!" the man shouts and you put down the pints in front of the newcomers. "She's new in the c-c-city." Doc introduces you. "These are the MacManus twins, Connor and Murphy, m-m-my best customers."

"It's a pleasure guys, sorry about earlier..." You dare to look at Murphy, but he just shakes his shoulders and takes a puff on his cigarette. He's clearly annoyed by your reaction.

“Don't worry ‘bout him, lass, he hit his face when he was born, tha's why he scared ya.” Connor jokes with you and you try not to laugh, but Murphy stirs and punches him in the face, earning another punch from his brother, starting a new battle between them.

"I'm the goodlooking twin here!" Murphy says indignantly getting a laugh from the rest.

You feel relief that he's only upset with you, that he can still enjoy the atmosphere and the banter with his brother and the rest of his buddies. You smile and go to the other side of the bar when you hear someone call out for another beer. The night goes on, another of the MacManus brothers' companions, Rocco, appears and the atmosphere gets a little livelier, at the end of the evening it's your turn to throw out the four drunken stragglers and Doc gives you permission to close the bar to go home.

You have nowhere to go.

You close the doors of the pub, allow yourself to clean up a bit so that the remains of beer do not get stuck on the floor or on the bar and take your backpack. You curl up in the storeroom putting on an old blanket you carry in your backpack and leaning against a sack of peanuts, you fall asleep.

The days go by, routine settles into your new life, but it's nice, you don't feel overwhelmed, nor do you want to look for another place to be, maybe Boston is a good place to finally stay. In the mornings, before Doc goes down to the pub, you get up from the storeroom, wash up a bit in the pub toilets, pick up your backpack and head out. You still don't have enough money to look for an apartment or rent a room, perhaps the most frustrating part of your whole situation, but you know that as the days go by that will change. You just need Doc not to find out. Before you start your shift that afternoon, you decide to go to a laundry and wash your clothes, you don't have much in your backpack and you've had dirty clothes in your backpack for a couple of days. You prepare the washing machine and count the bills you have left, maybe you can buy something to eat and a clean T-shirt and even some panties. You bite your lower lip checking how much time the washing machine has left and get out of there.

By evening you're already on your side of the bar, cleaning glasses getting ready for all the usual guys to return and start your work day. Things with the MacManus brothers have also changed a bit, you still have little jolts when Murphy appears in your field of vision without you expecting it, but you are getting better, at least you can talk without shaking or being able to look at him and smile.

Connor is less talkative, but he always seems interested in how you are doing, he's friendly and you like him. Murphy seems to forget, from one week to the next, the awkward situation you came into the first day you met, he has that funny look and easy smile again, he is a giggly person who always seems to want to get on his brother's nerves. It's fun to see them together. You smile when you hear the door open, prepare two beers and approach the stools already occupied by the MacManus brothers and smile.

"Good night, guys." They both smiled at the same time picking up the beer and taking a swig.

"Good evening, lass. How was yer day?"

"Well, entertaining, you know, feeding my favorite guys." You joke and they laugh, you glance sideways at Murphy who smiles and you return the gesture.

The mood is getting livelier, new people arrive at the bar and you step away from the group to wait on them. Laughter and easy conversation are quickly interrupted by awkward comments and sarcastic laughter. The pleasant atmosphere is transformed into a cloud of tension with the newcomers, it’s clear that they are only there to annoy the Irish, and they are succeeding.

You don't know how it happens, but one minute you're setting a beer down in front of Connor and within two minutes it has flown over the head of one of the men who has gone to confront them. You gasp in surprise as you see the two twins and Rocco go at the newcomers. It's three against a whole group and yet the Irish seem to be winning the fight. You watch in surprise as Doc is cheering them on from behind the bar.

"Murphy!" you startle as the man throws the Irishman against one of the walls, but Connor stops you behind the bar.

"He can take care of himself!"

You want to protest, to get out of the bar and help them, but you see Rocco and Connor take care of throwing the group out with no trouble. Murphy crashes two bottles into the guy's head, which has him pinned against the wall, knocking him out and out of the pub as well. There's a moment of silence, between everyone, you can almost hear the heaving breaths of the three men and suddenly Murphy raises his arms in the air and there's a general laught.

"Where's ma beer!" he shouts returning to the bar where you had left their beers and you can't help but stare at them in disbelief. They have several wounds on their faces, some cut on their nose and eyebrow and red knuckles from the blows.

You snort trying to get angry, it was crazy that they got into a fight with those guys, they were much bigger than them, and yet they came out on top. You leave Doc the bar and head to the bathroom to get the first aid kit and go back to the brothers and Rocco. Connor is the first to refuse your care, he's fine, he doesn't need you to worry, but you do it anyway. You treat a cut on his forehead and wipe the blood from his knuckles. Rocco seems more willing to cooperate, he mumbles some things in Italian that you don't understand but judging by the two blows he gets from the MacManus, it doesn't have been any good. You laugh and pick some more cotton as you approach Murphy. He doesn't look any worse than his brother, a cut on his eyebrow, cheek and reddish knuckles, he has some glass stuck in his skin from the impact of the bottles so you try to be careful.

"Don't worry, lass, I'm fine, 's just..."

"You have crystals on your hands, let me put them off, please, or they'll be infected." You shush him and give him a sidelong glance. Murphy seems hesitant but nods shaking his body a little and you sit down next to him on a free stool.

You carefully pick up the small crystals with a fine-tipped tweezers and leave them on top of a gauze with which you have cleaned the blood from his eyebrow and you feel his hand close against yours, you look at him and he looks at you from the corner of his eye, staring intensely at you feeling you tremble at this. You smile and go back to concentrating on cleaning the wounds on his knuckles.

"Thank you, lass." He thanks you and you shake your head dismissively.

Slowly the memories of Mac become less intense as you look at him and discover all the variables in his face, but mostly in his personality.

The nights pass between alcohol, lively discussions and loud music. You don't have much time to stop and talk to the group that you consider almost your friends. You don't stop moving from one side of the bar to the other, you go out to the tables to refill the empty beers and you have to stop a fight that is getting complicated. That night you can feel Connor swarming nearby when one of the men confronts you, but he doesn't do anything, he knows you alone can handle it, you see the wince from the rest of the men in the bar when you grab him by the balls and politely show him the way out. There has been enough fighting that you want to see.

The rest of the night seems to calm down, Doc even asks you to sit down for a bit and have a beer. You've been working there for a month now and it seems the man is happy with you. You hesitate, but finally decide to take him up on his offer and sit on a stool next to the guys with your own beer. You haven't finished the first sip when you see Doc appear with a small cake with a candle in the middle. You're surprised, your cheeks reddening violently as happy birthday chants echo through the bar. Connor laughs at the sight of your totally red face and Murphy slips an arm around your shoulders rocking you to the horrible off-key singing all around you. You laugh and a few tears gather in your eyes.

"What's this all about?" you ask feeling like your heart is going to burst out of your chest.

"We're celebratin' tha' today, one month ago, ya came to Boston, lass!" Connor tells you and you laugh again uncomprehendingly.

"You've ag-ag-agged this pair of... Fuck! Ass!" Doc croaks and you all hold in a guffaw. "Put up with this old man and this bunch of drunks, all by yourself."

"Oh c'mon it's my job I don't deserve..."

"Ya do, lass!" Murphy interrupts you and points to the candle on the cake. "Make a wish."

You smile and look at them all, they seem to expect you to blow out the candle like it's really a birthday cake. You bite your lip thinking something silly and blow out the candle, which blows out instantly. Again shouts and cheers echo through the place. Doc is in charge of the bar that night and you enjoy the group, watching them laughing and having fun with each other, sharing anecdotes with you too, feeling like one more in the group.

In one of those, Murphy grabs your hand and pulls you out in the middle of the bar trying to dance. You feel his hand on your lower back, holding you, but not daring to get too close to him. His other hand still grips yours and your fingers intertwine. You glance sideways at him with a shy smile and Murphy looks back at you, eyes bright and smile easy. Not only you have two left feet, Murph is not a natural dancer either. You two bump into each other, stumble over your feet and each other's, laugh as you are about to fall and hear the laughter of others around you. Murphy looks at you with an amused smile and his eyes sparkle with intensity getting you blushing, feeling your heart pounding.

"Come on guys, it's time to go home." You say when it's three in the morning and alcohol is the air freshener of the whole Pub.

"C'mon, lass, one more round." You hear Murphy protest, Connor grunts wanting to get up from his seat, he doesn't look as drunk as his brother.

"Let's go, Murph, she's right. Time to sleep."

"Sorry, Murph." You look at him regretfully. "You know you can come back tomorrow."

"Will ya be here?" Murphy's gaze is intense and you feel your breath catch.

"Sure, as always." You smile trying to calm him down, he smiles with you and Connor gives him a gentle slap on the back.

You accompany them to the door of the pub, say goodbye to them once more and watch them walk away down the alley. You close the door to go back inside and continue cleaning the pub. You grab your backpack and pull out the blanket you always keep there for when you close the pub. You are about to raise the money to find a place to live, you just need a little more time. Today has been special, you have felt special, loved, like you had for a long time. You hear the door open and you turn to see that it's locked and see Murphy looking at you apologetically.

"Murphy, is something wrong?"

"I lost my coat and... oh there's" Murphy points to the side of the bar and walks over, staggering grabbing the coat and stares at the place. The blanket and pillow in your backpack and you're still there. "There's somethin' wrong, lass?"

"Oh, no, no, it's all right, I was just finishing cleaning the pub and..."

"Are ya sleeplin' here? Does Doc know it?"

"No, he doesn't know, please don't tell him, I've almost got the money, I just need a few more days and..."

"Don't worry, ain't going to say nothin' to him, but ya can't sleep here. Ya will sick. Come with us."

What? You look at him confused, you don't understand what he means, he's asking you to go with him to his house? That's crazy, you haven't known each other long enough to have that kind of trust. You hesitate thinking about what you can say to him so that he won't give you any importance and go home. You shake your head, smiling politely.

"No need Murphy, thanks, I'll be fine."

"No, no, I ain't let ya here." He insists and puts on his coat pointing the pub's door with his head. "Come, Connor's waitin' us."

You hesitate again, you don't want to go, you don't want to disturb them, it's their house and you're an intruder, you haven't known each other that long and he's offering his house anyway, so you won't sleep on the warehouse floor again. You smile a little and nod your head grabbing your backpack and stuff following Murphy out of the Pub and close the door going with the Irishman to his house. Connor isn't waiting outside so you walk side by side without saying anything, Murphy lets the smoke from his cigarette out of his nostrils and gives you a sidelong glance. It seems that the cold of the night has cleared his head a bit and he is no longer staggering as he walks. You smile and walk a little closer to his side.

You arrive at a building not far from McGriny's, it is a building that looks abandoned, it doesn't look very good and when you are going up to the fourth floor, the situation certainly doesn't improve, but you don't say anything, you are not going to be ungrateful. Murphy opens the door to one of the abandoned apartments, you realize that in reality the building is not abandoned, they are squats and apparently no one cares. Connor is sitting on his bed in the middle of the large room, shirtless and unbuckling his boots. You avert your gaze so as not to notice the twin's muscular, taut back and you look around the entire floor discovering a couch, not very nice looking, but it will work.

"Fuck, Murphy, ya had to tell me..." Connor starts to say looking for his clothes to get dressed.

"She's here 'cause she's sleepin' in the pub, I can't leave her there." His brother explains and Connor frowns for a moment, trying to process what his brother is telling him. He looks at you and you look down again in embarrassment.

"Why didn't tell Doc? He could help ya."

"No need, he's already doing enough for me... next week I'll have the money and I can find me a place..."

"Ya can stay here, this flat has a few empty apartment so..." Connor proposes and you raise your eyebrows curiously. "Ya have water, electricity... Ya just need a bed and a key." He smiles and shrugs, Murphy approves of his brother's proposition by sitting on the edge of Connor's bed and Connor looks at him with a frown. "What're you doin'? Move!"

"She needs a bed!"

"So? She can sleep with ya!"

"Guys, guys! No need to fight, I'll sleep on the couch." You point to where you're sitting and Murphy shakes his head, he's not going to let you sleep there. "It's okay, I've slept in worse places, you don't have to worry." You smile downplaying it and pull the blanket out of your backpack, laying down on the couch.

Connor nudges his brother out of his bed and you laugh as you watch them engage in another slapping and kicking brawl with no force. You settle back to watch them and smile because you don't need to go and separate them. They walk away themselves, Connor continues to undress and Murphy mimics him, so you decide to turn away and give them privacy.

At some point you fall asleep, exhausted from the whole day and maybe the beers have also overdone it.

Several weeks go by, the tone of the pub doesn’t change; the mornings are quiet, you spend them cleaning and receiving the orders that Doc makes. You have found an empty apartment in one of the buildings near where the MacManus brothers live, they helped you find it, not needing to pay rent, water and electricity, you took advantage of the money saved to buy the right furniture, food and a small fridge.

You insisted on inviting them to dinner to thank them for their help. They didn't want you to do it, because it wasn't necessary, but finally you managed to convince them, so you bought something to prepare dinner, bought some beers and put them to cool in the fridge. You prepare a huge bowl of spaghetti, you aren’t sure if the brothers will like it, but your culinary skills are still in the process of expanding and pasta is what you handle best, that, or order food, but then it would be cheating. That night you have free at the Pub, you told Doc about your idea with the boys and the man let you enjoy the day off, you offered him to go to dinner as well, but the man refused, he couldn't close the pub, so you promised him you'd leave him a tupper with some for him to try.

You jump into your skin when you hear the door. You push the knob away from the small fire and walk quickly to open it, you need to use some force as it doesn't fit properly and to close it you always have to push violently. The twins help you from the other side and you smile gratefully at them. Connor enters with a simple greeting, kissing your hand, Murphy on the other hand opens his arms and traps you completely with his body in an affectionate embrace that makes you laugh and giving him a few gentle strokes on the back until he separates completely from you. You offer them a seat and bring out two beers which they gladly accept and you set the table to set the dinner plates.

"I hope you guys like the spaghetti because it's my signature dish." You joke and you see that they smile, they offer to help you with the table, but it is not necessary, when everything is ready, the three of you sit at the table and start dinner.

You dine without much ceremony, the boys seem to like the dish you have prepared for them and you feel a little calmer. When you finish you pick up the plates and sit down to continue talking and drinking, it isn’t as if you could offer them to watch a movie or something like that since the electricity is very limited. After a few hours you realize that maybe it's already late and the guys would rather go to Doc's pub, so you get up to clean up the dishes and let them go if they want to. Connor is the first to move, he offers to help you clean up and invites you to go with them to McGinty's but you decline the offer, Doc has given you the day off so if they leave, you will take the opportunity to lie on the couch for a while and do literally nothing. Your apartment is like that of the MacManus brothers, a single large room, bare concrete walls, at the back the bathroom with nothing separating it, however you made some changes to make it look more livable by putting some screens, giving privacy to certain parts of the house. Connor taps his brother who responds in kind, they seem to be discussing something between them and finally you hear Connor say goodbye and leave. You turn and see Murphy on the side of your makeshift kitchen, biting his lower lip, scratching the back of his head.

"Aren't you going with Connor?"

"Nah... Want me to help ya?" he offers pointing to your plates and you laugh.

"No need Murphy, if you want to go to Doc's pub you have my permission."

"I wanna stay here, with ya..." he mumbles and averts his eyes a little embarrassed. You look at him with surprise and feel your cheeks blush.

"Sure, as you wish. Sit down if you want, I'll finish now." You offer him and go back to focus on what you're doing. Behind you, you hear Murphy's hesitant footsteps but he finally does as you've asked.

You feel the atmosphere grow thin, not unpleasant, but a little uncomfortable. You aren’t quite clear why Murphy has preferred to stay there with you, he is usually his brother's shadow, and the other way around. It doesn't mean that it bothers you, on the contrary, you enjoy the company of the dark-haired man since you were able to bury your bad memories. He's funny and although sometimes a bit childish, you know there's no malice in his actions. He's like a big kid and you like that about him because he always finds a way to make you laugh and get you out of your murky thoughts. You are glad to have met them, him and Connor, you feel like they have helped you adjust to the place and maybe they have taken you under their protective wing without asking too many questions. You don't know if Doc has told them anything about you, how you got there with nothing, how the man knew how to read in you that you were running away without saying anything and decided to help you, but they have never asked you and have always been there to support you.

You finish with the dishes, wipe your hands and approach the couch where Murphy is sitting, he moves his leg nervously and was touching the rosary hanging from his neck. It was another detail that surprised you about them, the twins were religious, every Sunday morning, no matter how much of a hangover they had, they went to the church like good believers. You have never considered yourself very Christian but you respect people's beliefs, you just didn't expect them to be so devout.

You sit next to him and catch his attention with a little smile.

"Want another beer?" You offer. "I don't have much more to offer you, sorry..."

"I'm fine, don't worry..." He shakes his head and you bite your lip.

"Murphy... Are you okay? What's wrong with you?"

"I... I wanna ask ya somethin'..." he mumbles and you tense a little, looking at him worriedly. You nod and he turns on the couch to look at you. Before you know it, he's crawling on the couch and his hand is hidden under your hair, touching your neck. Your whole body instantly freezes. "We saw yers marks... What happened to ya? He did it?" Murphy asks you and you feel his fingers caress Mac's teeth mark, it's not as visible as it was months ago, but you're sure it will never quite fade. Like so many others. Something squeezes in your chest and you feel your eyes fill with tears.

"How did you...?" you gasp, not knowing what to ask.

"Ya was afraid of me, so I... we though' ya had a boyfriend or somethin' and when we saw yers marks we though' he wasn't pretty nice with ya..." Murphy looks at you sideways, whispering his words, it's clear he doesn't want to make you feel uncomfortable and that he's embarrassed for butting in where he isn’t wanted.

Memories come back to your mind. It's not hard because you haven't had that much time to forget, but you feel it overtaking you and your eyes fill with tears. The last thing you want is Murphy to worry about you or think he's to blame for anything.

"He never was my boyfriend... he never was nothing, actually, we just..." You try to explain, but you don't know what to say either, or even if you're ready to tell, but Murphy keeps looking at you with those hurt puppy dog eyes and you sigh. "I think I was who fell in love with him and he just accepted it and then he did whatever he wanted with me..." You look sideways at him feeling stupid and pathetic. If you had more personality maybe none of that would have happened... maybe you wouldn't have met Murphy either. "I'm sorry, Murph... I... You remembered him, it's true...but you aren't like him, you never could be..."

"He hurt ya... he marked ya and..." Murphy's jaw tenses and you startle a little at his darkened look. "He ain't deserve ya, never... ya wasn't stupid or anythin' ya just were in love with wrong person, but..." Murphy bites his lip and his hand on your neck slowly moves up to your cheek and caresses your cheek and the tip of his thumb brushes your lips. You look sideways at him and his gaze is fixed on you, he is serious, his pupils slightly dilated, his eyes are shining, he wants to tell you something else. "I can... I can help ya to forget him... I..."

"I can't Murphy I... I'm broken..."

"I... I can... let me be with ya..." Murphy asks you and you feel your tears overflowing and you cry silently, you want to pull away, but he holds your face with both hands pulling you closer. "Don't. Please, lass, don't cry... I'm sorry, I didn't pretend..." He starts talking and you shake your head covering your eyes trying to wipe your tears. You hate yourself because Mac doesn't deserve to be in your thoughts anymore, but you're not able to get him out either. Murphy caresses your cheeks wiping away the line of your tears.

“You didn't anything wrong, Murph, I just… I'm so sorry…”

You cover your eyes with your hands, unable to stop crying. Murphy watches you not knowing what to do. You open your eyes wide when you feel Murphy's lips against yours. It's a gentle touch, unforced, just a touch that manages to stop your tears. Your heart beats so hard you feel it pulsing in your ears. You take your hands away from your eyes and Murphy pulls away a little to look at you. He licks his lip nervously before he moves closer again and kisses you again. You sigh against his mouth, resting your hands on his broad shoulders, squeezing slightly as one of Murphy's hands slides to the back of your head, holding you by the hair, his lips catching your lips and his tongue grazes your teeth. You invite him in, opening your mouth slightly. Murphy gasps against your mouth and pushes into your mouth, his tongue brushing and tangling with your tongue. His free hand travels to your waist and he presses harder against you. You sigh against his mouth and slowly pull apart, looking at each other again. Neither of you say anything, but you snuggle against Murphy and the Irishman stays with you that night.

That evening you open the pub a little early. You have several drink orders that have come in that you need to place and prepare the storeroom for when the empty cases of beer and soft drinks are taken away. You are loading several crates with bottles of drinks when you hear the front door open.

You don't think anything of it, it's probably Doc who has already arrived. You walk out with the cases, one in each hand, closing the door with you. You are about to reach the bar when feet appear in your field of vision. You raise your head because it looks like a customer and freeze.

"I found ya." Says the man with ashy blond hair, dirty, blue gaze charged with anger and hatred, his tense jaw adorned with a thin layer of blond beard. He wears his red plaid shirt and worn, dirty, torn jeans.

"Mac..." you gasp his name and feel crates fall from your hands and the drinks explode wetting the entire pub floor. There is terror in your gaze and a crooked, cruel smile forms on his face. He advances a few steps towards you and you back away scared to death.

"Did ya think tha ya could escape from me?"

"Mac I... please..." you mutter backing away as he advances towards you.

"Please? Ya ran away!" he yells and throws one of the stools he has nearby and slams it to the floor.

You jump back, he grabs your arm and you quickly you hit him with the palm of your hand on his jaw, throwing his head back. Mac grunts in pain, lets you go and you try to run, but he grabs you again and throws you against the bar. A trickle of blood runs down his chin, possibly he bit his lip when you hit him. But he doesn't care. He grabs you from behind, holds your hair and violently crashes your head against the wooden surface several times until your nose is bleeding profusely, pain runs through your face and head, you feel dizzy and you are sure he has broken your nose.

" Spent all this time lookin’ for ya... Yer goin’ to come back with and ya goin’ to pay..." Mac whispers in your ear darkly and with anger in his voice. Your body trembles wrapped in fear, your eyes are filled with tears, face smeared in traces of tears, blood and snot. "Yer pathetic." Mac roars and throws you to the ground.

You gasp as you run out of air from the impact, but you don't stay there, you quickly crawl across the floor wet from the beers spilling out of the crates you've dropped on the ground, all you want is to get away from him.

"Where ya goin' bitch!?" Mac barks behind you and you feel him grab your ankles and drag you away, however, he suddenly lets go.

You hear a loud, abrupt gibbering, some cursing and a sharp thud against the bar again.

"Don't move!" You hear a shout and your heart races as you recognize Connor's voice.

You turn quickly to find that the MacManus twins are holding Mac against the bar. Connor is between his brother and the other man. There is surprise on their faces, but anger is too strong to be intimidated. You panic because the Irish twins are carrying a gun in their hands and you've never seen them armed before. You want to get up and stop him, but you're getting dizzy from your own pain and from bleeding out your nose.

"Who ‘re ya!?" Connor yells again, but you can see Murphy tense his jaw and bite his lip nervously. He knows who is, you told about him the other day and he doesn't have to be very smart, he only has to look at the face of that man, older than him, but clearly with features very similar to his.

So you were afraid of him during the first days you met them. Murphy looks away from the man to look at you, Connor is still holding Mac, pointing his gun at him, the "older" twin nods in his brother's direction and Murphy rushes over to you to help you up from the ground seeing your face full of blood and tears. Murphy wipes your tears and blood with his coat sleeve and you hiss in pain. He looks at you apologetically and kisses your forehead.

“Don’t feel pity for tha’ bitch, she deserved it.” Mac snarls from behind your backs and Connor slams the gun into his face, breaking his nose. The man groans in pain and shoots him a menacing, deadly glare.

“Please, don’t… Call the police, Murphy.” You look at the twin holding on to his coat, looking at him with fear. “He’s crazy, he can kill you both!”

"Don't worry, lass, Rocco..." You look up realizing then that the man is there too, in front of the pub door, blocking the other man's possible escape. He is also carrying a gun and is pointing it at Mac. "Take her to the hospital, get her patched up."

"Sure, come on, pretty girl." Rocco raises his arm towards you and you hesitate for a moment, but you advance towards the Italian.

"She isn't goin’ anywhere!" Mac roars, but this time, it's Murphy who blocks him, a crooked smile plastered on his mouth, licking the blood running down from his nose, Murphy frowns, wondering what you saw in that guy. “She’s mine!”

“She ain’t belong to anyone!” He yells and his brother looks at him watching that he can control himself. “Ya marked her, like a fuckin’ animal! How did ya dare!? She’s a beautiful woman that doesn’t deserve ya in her life!” He still yelling and you feel your heart stops beathing.

Rocco takes you out of the pub to go to the hospital, you can't leave the McManus brothers with Mac, it's dangerous and you know it perfectly well, you've experienced it in your own body, but Rocco doesn't let go, he wants to help you, because he considers you a good friend, and you're a complete mess right now.

Inside the pub the McManus twins are still watching Mac, Connor has taken Rocco's place at the door to stop the man escaping and Murphy has landed a couple of blows on him, taking some as well. Both have some open wounds on their faces and are panting heavily. Connor is starting to get impatient with that, he understands that his brother wants revenge for what Mac did to you, but he's not going to let that lunatic smash his little brother's face in either.

"Ya like her that much?" gasps Mac wiping blood from his mouth. "Did ya fuck her yet?" A chuckle escapes his mouth as he sees Murphy's jaw tighten. "No, I see, is that why yer doin’ this? ya think savin’ her ass from me, she'll spread her legs and beg ya to fuck her?" A guffaw is born from his stomatch. "That bitch loves to be dominated, if yer goin’ to go soft on her ya'll never get her to cum, and she'll leave ya."

"Shut the fuck up, don't ever talk about her like that again!" Again Murphy's fist impacts against Mac's face and Mac is cornered against the bar of the pub. Murphy places the muzzle of his gun over his forehead and tenses his jaw once more. "I'm going to make her forget ya... I'm going to get ya to just become a fucking old nightmare..." He swears at him loading the gun.

"Yeah? And how are ya gonna get it? Are ya gonna put a mask on yer face?" Mac has nothing to lose, he knows he's not going to get out of that pub alive, he fought, but the Irishman has left him limp and obviously a gun to his head, doesn't give much chance of victory. "Why do ya think she stays with ya?"

"I ain't like ya!" He punches Mac in the face with the gun.

The Utah man takes his last chance, sinking his fist into the Irishman's stomach. Murphy breaks away feeling short of breath, Mac takes advantage of this and fires his fist back into his face. Murphy falls to the ground and Connor wants to go to his aid, but his brother shoots him an intense look. He doesn't want him to intervene. He springs to his feet as Mac approaches ready to unload his foot against his stomach, but Murphy moves nimbly and now it's the other man on the ground. Murphy punches his stomach in several kicks before Mac grabs him by the ankle and pulls him to the ground. They engage in a grapple trying to wrestle the gun away from him. Connor panics because his brother has been pinned under Mac's body, both struggling to gain control of the gun.

"Murphy!" Connor calls to his brother and the shot echoes throughout the empty room.

You and Rocco aren't far from the pub when you hear the gunshot. Rocco has tried to get you out of there as quickly as possible, but you keep resisting. Your blood runs cold in your veins and you yank yourself away from the man and run back to McGinty's.

You yank open the door to find that both twins are fine, Mac's body lies lifeless on the floor of the Irish pub and your eyes fill with tears as you discover the multiple wounds on Murphy's face when he turns to look at who has entered. There is surprise and confusion on his face when he sees you.

"Murphy!" you run to him hugging him tightly, crying against his shoulder. Connor smiles pulling away a little, giving you space. "I heard the gunshot, and I... I was so scared, I thought..." You stammer unable to say anything coherent, sniffling through your nose, feeling it ache, as does your head, but you don't loosen your embrace against Murphy's body, who laughs softly and hugs you as well, stroking your hair.

“It’s okay, lass, it’s over.” He says softly on your ear. “Yer safe now, I promise.”

You pull away from him slightly to look into his eyes and smile kissing him. Murphy tightens his grip around your waist and you sigh against his mouth, making the kiss more intense as his tongue delves into your mouth, seeking yours, making you gasp. Connor behind you clears his throat, calling your attention.

"Sorry to interrupt the moment, but I think before we get tender we should get rid of that guy." He points to Mac and your body shudders. "And you two should go to the hospital. Now.”

“Aye! Let’s go, lass, we need to heal that pretty face of ya.” He smiles at you and you laugh feeling the pain on your face but you don't care.

With one last look at Mac you feel sad for a moment but when Murphy takes your hand again you smile and go with him to the hospital to heal your bruises on your face, because you know your heart is already healed.

The End

I hoped you enjoyed reading this.

You are about to close the bar. It's been an intense night, you aren’t sure if there was something in particular going on in town, but the people had become very animated, the beers, the drinks, were sliding from one side of the bar to the other. You were exhausted, wanting to finish so you could go home and sleep until it hurt. The door opens then making you raise your head to see who it could be and tell him that the bar was already closed. You feel your mouth go dry as you discover who has entered.

Mac.

Ever since you arrived in town your body and mind has been sending you mixed signals with this man. He's attractive as hell, but there's something about him that scares you, that always makes your alarms go off warning you, making you always keep a distance from him. But now he's caught you by surprise there alone as you were finishing your shift.

"We're closed, Mac." You tell him picking up the empty beers from one of the tables.

"Ain’t ya gonna give me one drink?" he asks with a growl in his voice walking to the bar.

"Tomorrow, I'm closed today." You insist leaving the broom leaning on the bar, crossing your arms.

Mac smiles crookedly, it's clear that your posture would be and trying to make him leave doesn't impress him at all. His footsteps reach you, resting his hands on the bar, leaving you cornered between the wood and his body. You see him bite his lip hard, clawing at it with his teeth, still staring at you.

"C’mon it’ll be a secret between us." He said again slurring his words. "I'm done workin’ now, I need to relax." You bite your tongue in time. You're sure that this job he's talking about isn't exactly legit.

Everyone there knows what goes on inside those caves, the business that man is up to with the drugs, the people who don't show up in town again once they stick their nose up there. The number of young girls who claimed that Mac had drugged and raped them, but nobody seemed to care, nobody did anything against him. That was one of the reasons why your alarms always went off when the man was around.

You try to escape from his confinement, but he’s quicker to grab you by the waist, slamming your back against the wood of the bar making you gasp in pain. Your gaze lifts to him nervously, his smile has turned into a strained grimace, pursing your mouth, cocking your head slightly to one side. His blue eyes are marked by intense red veins and he keeps sniffling through his nose.

Probably stoned.

"Mac, I think..."

"Shut up." He orders you and your lips close at the second, your body jerks in his grip and the man presses his body against yours. "I tried to be nice..."

"Mac..."

"I said shut up." He growls menacingly, one of his hands on your waist goes up to your neck, pressing against your throat. You close your eyes feeling them fill with tears, frightened. "I tried to be nice, I came to see ya, I asked ya for a beer and ya’re selfishly throwin’ me out..."

"I'm sorry I..."

"We couldda have talked, I couldda have asked ya to dance... but ya just wanna go to yer fuckin’ house and screw me." He growled through his teeth and you closed your eyes tighter.

"What-what do you want from me, Mac?" you ask in a stutter and hear him snort in amusement.

"Whatever I want from ya doesn't matter to ya, because I'm gonna take it, whether ya like it or not." He assures you and licks your cheek before sniffling loudly through his nose. "Ya taste so good... and yer skin’s so soft..." His fingertips hide under your shirt and you gasp in fright. "I wonder if everythin’ bout ya tastes so good." He whispers in your ear.

"Oh God..." You sobbed unable to pull away from him.

"No, God ain’t gonna be able to help ya."

His smile turned into a nasty grimace, he pushed you away from the bar long enough to turn you around and slam your body back against the wooden surface, his hands squeezing your waist, his hips grinding against you, his cock, which was starting to get hard, rubbing against your buttocks. You gasped and tried to push him off, but he spread your legs apart to get more control of you.

"Dunno pretend ya dunno wanna this. I've seen the way ya look at me..." He growls again his hands squeezing your but and he slaps your cheek making you moan. “Yes, I know, girl, this gonna be fuckin’ great, ya gonna scream like the whore ya’re.”

Your whole body shudders as Mac leans over you leaning his body against yours, crushing you against the wood of the bar. You gasp and try to push him away as his hands wrap around your waist wanting to unbutton your pants. You resist and manage to shoot your arm backwards hitting him in the stomach with your elbow. Mac gasps for a few seconds which you take the opportunity to pull away and try to get away from him, but the man is not going to give up so easily.

His fingers close over your hair and he pulls you back. You cry out in pain, falling to the ground from the pull, but Mac has no mercy on you, still struggling to breathe a little, his hand resting on his ribs where you've hit him with your elbow, but he's not going to let you leave.

Not now.

"Ya gonna regret this." He assures you in a cracked voice.

"Mac please!" you whimper desperately wanting to let go, but his fingers squeeze your hair harder making you scream.

He carelessly lifts you off the floor to push you back against the surface of one of the tables. His hand releases your hair but closes on the back of your neck like a shackle preventing you from moving. Jerking, grunting and cursing under his breath he manages to get rid of your pants and panties leaving them tangled around your ankles. Once again you try to let go to get him to stop, but Mac spreads your legs apart and pushes his hard cock, still inside his pants, back against your ass, rubbing against it. You gasp, his fingers closing against the skin of your ass pulling at your buttock, massaging it carelessly and he whips you again, the snap of his hand against your skin echoing through the bar and you groan feeling your skin sting.

"Cry all ya want." He tells you between gasps. "But we both know yer just pretendin’." The air chokes in your lungs as his fingers caress your slit. "Yer fuckin’ wet in here. Yer cravin’ it." He assures you and you close your eyes, cursing under your breath that you can't control your body. "How many times have ya wanted this, girl? Tell me, do ya touch yerself thinkin’ about me fuckin’ ya?" A cruel smile forms on your mouth, biting the tip of your tongue. "Ya couldda asked me, I wouldda gladly done it." He assures you, his fingers part your wet folds and thrust inside you feeling discomfort at his sudden intrusion.

You tremble, closing your eyes, trying to pull away, but his fingers keep touching you, pushing inside you, as deep as he could. In and out. Fast and rough. Your pussy stings, but he doesn't stop, each time feeling his fingers getting wetter with each new thrust inside you. You feel yourself on the edge and his fingers leave you roughly. You gasp daring to look up at him discovering that he is unbuttoning his pants, rubbing his obvious erection impatiently.

You sigh, his hands resting on your ass again, you hear the muffled sound of his pants dropping to the floor and his cock presses against your wet slit, up and down, moistening its tip, pressing against the entrance to your pussy, but still not breaking through. He pulls apart again parting your lips to watch you contract against nothingness and you hear him snort in amusement.

"I'm gonna fuck ya so hard..." He assures you. "Yer gonna to feel me all week long." He grunts and guides the tip of his cock against your pussy.

He thrusts hard, giving you no time to process. His hands clamp down on your waist and he pulls out again leaving only the tip inside you to thrust again becoming fully encased. Your walls stretching with each thrust, unable to adjust to his size as he gives you no respite. You moan and gasp between pain and pleasure feeling your body propelled against the table, slamming your hips against the edge, hurting yourself every time the wood digs into your skin. One of his hands releases your waist to grip the table above your head, his body laying on top of yours, his teeth closing over the skin of your neck. You cry out arching up, feeling his cock thrash deeper in this position, taking a new, faster, more violent thrust inside you, his balls slamming against your pussy.

Mac tries to change your position, lifting one of your legs to get more access, but your pants don't allow you to move much more. He grunts in frustration pulling his cock out of you, you feel some relief trying to get your body to relax. Mac kneels right behind you, his teeth bite into one of your buttocks in the process and you gasp.

You moan as his mouth closes over your sore and tortured pussy, his tongue running along your folds, inserting the tip of it inside you, you hold onto the edges of the table as your hips lift seeking more attention from his mouth, but they are brief caresses, he breaks away again to free one of your ankles from your pants and panties and before joining you he leaves a new nibble on the insides of your thighs that makes your legs tremble. With a sudden movement he turns you over on the table surface and positions himself on top of you again, holds one of your legs over his shoulder and pushes himself inside you again. The new angle gets your G-spot drilled with his cock over and over again, sending constant jolts of pleasure throughout your body despite how sore you feel at the same time. Your arms go around his shoulders moaning in his ear, his hands hold your body tighter leaving his fingers marked on your body, his teeth keep biting your neck, his tongue licking the same marks, his hips giving you no respite, you feel him start to thrust inside you erratically, brushing against his own limit.

Mac bites down hard on the skin of your shoulder as he makes one last thrust, wedging himself inside you. You hiss closing your eyes, you feel his cock stirring inside you, his cum spilling out, painting your walls white. He pulls completely out of you, watching his seed trickle down your slit dripping onto the bar table. A crooked smile marks his mouth. His eyes still drugged and dark from the climax stare at you.

"Now gimme that fuckin’ beer." He growls sniffling through his nose and giving you a gentle slap.

I hope you enjoyed it!

Part 2.

When you open your eyes again you feel a sharp prick running through your head. You gasp and close your eyes again, placing your hands on your head. It hurts like hell and you aren’t quite sure how you got in that room, you sit up very slowly, with the memories of what happened still flooding your mind. You can still feel the touch of Mac's tongue on your cheek, your skin bristles at the memory of his scent permeating your skin, his hand closing around your throat like a pincer, his fingers...

You close your eyes as your whole body shakes and you squeeze your legs together at the memory. You shouldn't have let that happen, you should have pushed him away, but he had managed to completely dominate you, leaving you trembling in his hands.

"Yer gonna be mine." You hear his voice in your mind and gasp.

No, you can't fall.

You get up from the bed still feeling dizzy in the head, the door opens at that very moment, several of your classmates walk in along with Principal Smith and they all look at you with concern, your cheeks flare because it's possible they saw what Mac was doing to you. It's embarrassing and humiliating, the last thing you wanted was to become a nuisance on your first day of work. Your eyes fill with tears at the thought that you might be fired for your damned incompetence. You sniffle violently and cover your face with both hands so they don't see you crying, the last thing you need is for them to feel sorry for you. One of your classmates comes to you hugging you tightly, trying to comfort you.

"How are you?" Negan asks you holding one of your arms, pulling it away from your face, you look at him sideways and his eyes show you a totally worried grimace. "Are you in pain? Your head? You hit the wall pretty hard, young lady."

"I-I'm s-sorry I... I took the clothes down to the Laundary and-and I didn't know Mac was there, and-I..." you babble incoherently without stopping crying and sniffling through your nose.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see them glance at each other with a worried look on their faces, which makes you frown in confusion at their stares, but your head hurts too much to dwell on it. Your companion releases you and hands you a little plastic cup, you look at it curiously, inside are a couple of colored pills, you frown once again not understanding what's going on. Negan sighs and pats your shoulder with extreme care.

"It's a painkiller for your head and an antibiotic, you took a good blow to your nose, we don't want it to get infected." He explains feeling your body visibly relax at his words.

You take the medication feeling your mind blur for a second at the abrupt gesture throwing your head back, the world is moving under your feet and you need to sit back down. Your companions help you, you feel them moving around you doing various tests even measuring your blood pressure, that your body is not going through the shock yet, but you are fine, mainly it is the headache that is killing you, but it stabilizes itself to the effect of the pills you have taken.

"Try to relax a bit and rest." Negan tells you and you look at him sideways, "Your shift for today is over, okay? We'll check on you later."

"Okay... What's going to happen with Mac?" you dare to ask feeling your eyes fill with tears again.

"Don't worry about him, he's under control, he's not going to give you any more trouble." He tries to comfort you but he himself doesn't seem too sure of his own words. You nod your head closing your eyes, curling up on the bed, you really need to rest.

You don't know how long you've been sleeping, but the windows show you the darkness of the street and that scares you. You shouldn't stay there so long, you have to go home, not to mention all your lost work shift. You sit up in bed, your head no longer hurts, you don't feel dizzy, the medication you've been given has worked properly and you feel relieved. Instinctively you touch your nose and it hurts, it is not broken or twisted, but it still hurts from the impact against the wall.

You get out of bed to go to the nurse's station to change out of your work pajamas into your clothes and leave. You want to talk to the director to ask for a double shift tomorrow to cover the hours you've missed. You hope to find Negan still in his office. You move to leave when your eyes detect movement next to you. For a second panic washes over you as you discover the figure of an ashen blond man leaning against the wall biting his thumbnail, he looks at you nervously as you discover him there. He steps away from the wall to approach your position, but you back away and he stops, raising his hands in peace.

"D-don't be afraid, I'm Joe." He says sincerely even as he looks sideways at you, afraid to look directly at you. "I-I just wanted to know how you were doing..." He murmurs and something softens inside you as you see his worried, saddened look. You want to tell him it's not his fault, but you're not sure if it's the right thing to do.

"Thank you... I didn't realize that... I didn't know he was there."

"Sometimes they send us out to do chores like that, to keep our minds busy, you know, because of the withdrawal and all..." He explains and his body jerks. "He'd been locked up for a few days, controlled, but he escaped... I'm really, really sorry..." He mumbles lowering his gaze again. You bite your lip and dare to approach him.

You caress his cheek to make him look at you, his eyes glisten from the tears that invade them and your heart squeezes again. Joe is good, a lost soul, but there is no evil in him, you know it, he has proved it to you those days you have been talking to him, getting to know him better. You smile a little and kiss him on the cheek lovingly, you feel him tense at your touch, but he doesn't really move.

"Thank you for caring, Joe, you don't have to..."

"Yes I do... I worry about you, I don't want you to get hurt, they don't understand..." But he falls silent biting his lip nervously. "Mac doesn't want to hurt you, but he doesn't know... He doesn't know how to talk to you..." He tries to explain himself and his gaze falls back to his feet, playing with his hands nervously.

You watch him in silence, with your heart in a fist, his good intention for Mac, wanting to make you see that he is not a bad person, that he acts by instinct, that he takes what he wants without asking, but this is not how things should be done, he has to understand that there are limitations and that he should know how to respect the personal space of each one. You smile and dare to give him another kiss on the cheek, but Joe turns his head towards you kissing you. You tense up without reciprocating his kiss, he doesn't force it to make it more intense either. He pulls away and looks at you nodding.

"I-I'm glad you're better." He says to you and pulls away from you leaving the room quietly so the nurses on duty won't notice he has left his room without permission.

You stand there for a second longer, your heart pounding, feeling your lips wet from the kiss. Your cheeks burn violently and you feel yourself trembling from head to toe. What is happening to you? Why are you unable to control yourself? You are an employee of that place, you should be more professional and not get carried away by the strange feelings that both men are making you feel.

Because yes, maybe Mac is foul-mouthed, rude and unpleasant in several aspects, but he has also managed to sneak into your mind making you feel ashamed of your own thoughts.

Time passes faster than you thought. It's been several months since you started working there, it's also been a few days since what happened with Mac and since that day you haven't met him directly, which you're grateful for, you're not sure you could face him. However, you had been aware that your fellow patients were spending more time with you, there was always someone around you making sure you weren't left alone with the sick people in the ward, which prevented you from being able to approach Joe and talk to him about the kiss in the room that night. Although you weren't sure if it could be called a kiss either.

Still you don't want to lose contact with him, Joe is different from Mac, he has always been nice to you, he is the complete opposite of his brother, roommate, whatever. Whenever you can you try to get close to him, it's easier to do it in the hours where they are all together in the great room or when they go out in the yard to let the sun warm them up a bit, but as always, there is a roommate nearby, holding you down and pulling you somewhere else, giving you any task, no matter how absurd, to keep you busy. Occasionally your gaze would even connect with that of the ashen blond smiling sadly and he himself would wander off to another spot in the yard, losing sight of you.

"Any word from Mac?" You ask a colleague that morning, as you have not heard from the man for many days and you begin to worry.

"He's in isolation." He explains, glances sideways at his coworkers and looks back at you. "There's an... isolation room on one of the floors, it's like a punishment, Smith locks them in there sometimes to calm them down. When the withdrawal anxiety gets too much for them."

"But is anyone taking care of him? He can't be alone, that would be much worse for him." You try to understand, but your partner just shrugs.

"Don't worry about him, he'll come back, he always does." He says letting out a sigh, as if he was tired of that situation and that makes you frown hard.

Could the man be so problematic that the medical team itself didn't know how to deal with him? Why wasn't he transferred to another institution?

You are thinking about the conversation you had that morning with your colleagues when you hear hurried footsteps on the second floor, several carts moving quickly through the corridors, urgent voices, you don't know what is going on, but it seems worrying. You quickly descend the stairs to discover several nurses entering Joe's room, you hear screams inside and your pulse quickens.

You run and rush into the room, everything is in disarray, the bed lying on the floor, sheets scattered all over the place, the bathroom is open, two colleagues try to restrain Joe, but he has a knife in his hand, no one knows where he got it from. Frightened, you try to enter the bathroom and discover that the walls are all painted with red marker. Fear invades you again fearing that Mac could have escaped again, but no, that look the man gives you is from Joe, he looks at you scared, worried. He throws the knife to the ground and lets the men hold it, this time he doesn't resist. As they pass you your body shudders and your eyes fix on what's written on the walls.

"It's all lies." "Don't trust them." "You have to wake up." "There's nothing wrong with you." "We miss you."

Your heart squeezes without understanding what he means. At what point has the man lost his mind like that to write all that, to try to make an attempt on the lives of people who are only helping him. Your mind blurs for a second and you shake your head trying to come to your senses. When you look up again, your companions are carrying you out of the room, you look back and see that the walls of the bathroom are white.

You no longer hear Joe's screams down the hallway.

You are nervous, your head is a jumble of confused and jumbled thoughts. You've been sitting on one of the gurneys at the nurse's station all afternoon, rubbing your hands together, trying to get your surroundings in order. With the excuse that you were feeling a little tired you have been left there alone, no one has questioned your situation, they have simply left you there.

You keep thinking about everything that has happened in the last few days, you keep remembering Joe's words in his room, his defeated look, the fear, not for him, but directed towards you, as if he was suffering believing he could lose you.

You don't understand anything, why would he be afraid of losing you?

To Be Continued...

Sorry if it's short, but the hot part is approaching and I think the next part will be the last one and I'll do it a little longer.

I hope you liked it!