#reader x murphy

You worked night shifts at McGinty's when cash was tight. Though, Doc would lose his wits, cursing and screaming, "Fuck," when you'd escape your shift to fool around with customers, the old man appreciated your help.

Friday night was rowdy, but nothing you hadn't dealt with before. Except, it was St. Patrick's week, and the Irish were in the mood to party like apocalypse was upon them. Entering the pub a while before "Happy Hour" you made your way towards the bar and hung your coat on an idle rack nearby.

You breathed a breath of relief once the damned cloth clinging to your body was removed. Your black shirt had a considerably low-cut, and you could see sweat forming in the v-neck.

You ached to let loose before, possibly, your longest shift of the week, but to no avail, Doc wouldn't hear anything of it. He "confiscated" your pack of cigarettes like the father figure he became for you, and reminded you of your job.

Sighing, you began placing liquor on the glass table, until hearty laughs and rowdy cheers distracted you.

"They're early," you thought, paying no further heed.

You turned your back towards the entrance and began shuffling through the bottles of alcohol displayed. You heard ruffling behind you, shortly. People getting comfortable in their seats, you assumed.

Turning around, your eyes met with a pair you hadn't seen before.

Blue hues drowned your own in tidal waves that exuded out of him. He met your gaze and held it — amusingly anticipating your reactions.

"Where the fuck's your drinks? Don't tell me youse two are goin' sober?" 'Rocco' as you heard another man call him a few times, broke your enchantment and you began taking orders.

"Whiskey, neat— no, make that Guinness." The man beside your enchanter spoke. You noticed their resemblance; he was attractive, that was beyond doubt, but no one compared to the stranger in front of you.

"Comin' up." You began pouring drinks while the men chattered among themselves.

Everything was going smooth; even your urge to leave had subsided. Something about tonight made you never want to take breaks between shifts again, if it meant you could have him around to serve.

Everything was going smooth until a certain request.

"Could we get any cherries in here?" You hear a call towards your side. Turning around, you snickered at the request. "I'm being serious, love." He pleaded, "Ye can't blame a lad for wanting something sweet in his mouth, yeah?" He smirked, his last few words deeply amused the men beside him.

You sigh and begin looking around; Doc placed them at the bottom of the shelf. You groaned as you bend down to grab them. Your black jeans, stretched, seemed to have attracted the attention of the men behind you.

It seems the thing that piqued their interest the most tonight was you, down low. You chuckled at the whistles— you didn't mind it, but you did grow conscious as the man you admired was directly behind you.

"Finally." You groan as you pull them out and turned to him. "Uh-uh," he stopped you before you placed them down. He moved closer to where the cherries swung in the air, which you subconsciously did to prove your victory in finding them in the oddest of places. He leaned over the table and reached for the fruit. Your breath hitched when he wet his pink lips before they came in contact with a plump, deliciously crimson one.

His eyes stared right into yours as the world seemed to slow down. His teeth closed in on it and bit it off the stem. You whimpered softly. That was, singularly, the sexiest thing you had ever seen. He winked shamelessly, before moaning, "Delicious" under his breath, soft enough only for you to hear.

Saving you from embarrassment, Doc walked over to your side and inquired how the hell did you manage to suppress the urge to leave your shift? Interrupting him, your new favourite voice began, "Forgive me, Doc. But I'll be needing your gorgeous bartender to myself for a while." He looked at him and winked.

You felt a blush creep in.

"Of-fucking-course you fucking need her. She can't fucking finish her shift without fucking breaks." He stammered out, but let you leave, anyway.

The Irish Devil then whispered something to the man beside him; who you were admiring a few minutes ago, was smirking at you while fidgeting with the inked skin on his hand. "Save me some," was all you could make out from the conversation, which was followed by him receiving a playful blow on the shoulder by the man who needed you.

"C'mon, cherry." He looked up at you and gestured for you to follow him.

Fuck.

"My name's Murphy." He told you as you walked towards the bathroom. "I'm—" "Cherry." He put a finger on your lips, both of you had your eyes fixated on it. "You're my cherry tonight," His finger caressed across your upper lip. "Aren't you my cherry?" He finally inquired, his thumb was now playing with your lower lip.

"Y-yes." You managed to whisper as he backed you against a bathroom stall. "Good girl." He praised before bringing his lips to yours and kissing you passionately. You fervently kissed him back, his tongue licked across your bottom lip, begging for entrance you gladly granted. He moaned as soon as your tongues came in contact with one another and moved rhythmically. The taste of cherries and Guinness on his tongue mixed with the aftertaste of a cigarette you smoked a while before was utterly delicious to you.

You tugged at his shirt, making your impatience aware. This caused him to chuckle deeply, and you felt like your knees were going to give up any minute. He grabbed you by the hem of your shirt and took it off of you. "I've been wanting to do that since the minute I laid eyes on you," He groaned, reaching for your jeans, next. Leaving you in your lingerie, he began undressing.

You were having the time of your life just staring at this man. Each and every move he made was so graceful, you could watch him simply move his hands around and feel aroused at the mere sight. When he finished, you were welcomed by the sight of him only in his boxers. God, you couldn't believe your eyes. Was this real? You often thought while he was thinking the same.

Murphy hadn't come across a girl as beautiful as you. He'd seen you a couple times before while drinking with Connor, but you never stuck around for him to truly get a glimpse of just how incredibly gorgeous you are. St. Patty's really is his lucky day.

He grabbed you by the arm and turned you around, swiftly, your face pressed against the door of the stall. You could feel his fingertips grazing your back, your hips, and now your breasts. He unhooked your bra, and turned you as you were previously.

If it was any other man, you would've remained confident and taken the lead, but with Murphy MacManus? No, you were flushed with your state.

Noticing your embarrassment, Murphy stopped you from hiding your breasts, "Don't be shy, now, love." "You're fucking beautiful, cherry." He caressed your cheek. "May I?" He asked, bending lower — just above your chest. You nodded eagerly, earning not a smirk, but a smile from Murphy.

He hovered above your bud, and just as his lips grazed it, he looked up at you while opening his mouth. The world slowed, yet again, as Murphy MacManus began kissing and sucking on your breast leisurely, while kneading the other with care. You moaned, his clothed cock throbbed at the sound. Switching the treatment on the breasts, he finally let go of you when he was satisfied with the lovebites he left on your skin. He grabbed your face towards him and kissed you passionately.

You could die a happy woman drowning in the oceans of Murphy MacManus. Whatever it is that you felt for him; lust, pure lust, turned out to be the strongest emotion you've ever felt. He pulled away from you and reached for your lace panties, ripping them away. Cold air hit you instantly and in your vulnerable state, you inhaled sharply at the feeling.

"Fuck."

Murphy groaned at the sight of your pussy. He immediately brought his face closer to your heat, and like a man starved, began lapping at your wetness. He relished in the taste of you, and began devouring your clit. His tongue wrapped around your swollen bud before he began sucking on it wholly. "Fucking hell, Murphy." You moaned out.

He smirked against your slit before pulling his face away. You whimpered at the loss of contact but were rewarded by him soon enough. When he brought his digits to where your mouth was, you understood just what was about to happen. Biting your lip before allowing him entrance, you began sucking diligently on his fingers, giving him a vivid idea of what that pretty mouth of yours could do.

His mouth agape, he wanted nothing more in this moment than to shove you down and have you take his cock down your throat, but no. You deserved pleasure before him, he thought to himself, constraining the urge to be selfish.

His fingers left your mouth with a 'pop' sound, and traced every voluptuous curve on your body, until he finally reached your slit and gave you what you so desperately needed the minute you saw him.

His fingers separated your lips, and he eased his middle finger in, inserting it completely to the hilt. He looked up at you, and the look on your face; one of pure ecstasy, urged him to continue.

He pulled his finger out, and shoved back in repeatedly, until you were ready to take another. Murphy took no time in inserting his middle and ring finger inside you, smirking at your lewd state. His mouth latched onto your clit which lead to him licking and sucking on it. He'd occasionally kiss your swollen bud which throbbed with sensitivity.

Your state amused him incredibly. The confident and sexy bartender at McGinty's was under Murphy MacManus, squirming in pleasure with her plump lips wet, furrowed brows, and radiant eyes shut tightly.

"You're a work of art, Cherry." He whispered against your thighs, looking directly in your soul.

Murphy heard your breath hitch, and knew you were close. He pumped his fingers faster and sucked on your clit with all his might. You cursed, trembled and shivered against him. Mewling, you begged him to keep going. He fingered you at an inhuman speed; your eyes rolled back, your back arched and your breasts bounced with the increasing speed pumping inside of you.

You didn't have time to comprehend let alone tell Murphy you're cuming, before you squirted all over him. He let out a hearty chuckle, flushed with embarrassment, you turned to look away but Murphy grabbed you by the chin and forced you to look down, at him. "Eyes on me, Cherry." He ordered, and you followed. Once again, his fingers impaled you, while his tattooed hand placed on your inner thigh firmly prevented you from moving too much. It seemed your squirming disturbed him from enjoying you in your most vulnerable state; so lewd, so beautiful.

He began nibbling on your clit, and you screamed his name loud enough for the whole neighbourhood to hear. You weren't sure how, but it seemed you were already close to your high, again. Just when you thought you were gonna drown in your own wetness once again, yelling and grunting interrupted your session.

Murphy knew what was going on, and that his brother needed him, but he just couldn't pull away from you. Instead, he picked up the pace, of both his fingers and his tongue that lapped at your clit.

You let out a string of curses as a moan, and screamed as you released for the second time tonight. Murphy pulled out his fingers and slipped his tongue in between your orgasm, which sent you over the edge. He tongue-fucked you through your climax and licked your juices clean.

After eating you out to both of your satisfactions, he kissed you fervently one last time. He left a series of love-bites on your neck and the valley of your breasts, making his way up to your ear between wet kisses and whispering, "Consider this something to remember me by."

When he was finished dressing, he kissed your forehead, and made his way out of the bathroom.

"We aren't finished, you and I." He turned to say to you. "You know I'll be waiting for you." You winked.

"Ah, my Cherry, I'll come soon."

"There's no way I can stay away from a pretty face like yours that long."