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yourfavoritehorseman · 3 months

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Eight Years: A Connor MacManus OneShot (Boondock Saints)

A/N: Whew! I know writers could probably knock this amount of work off in their sleep, but this is the most I've written in forever. This is all highly self-indulgent tbh. I sometimes go to sleep by thinking up different scenarios similar to this one. Getting it down is another story, of course. That said, I hope you enjoy.

Synopsis: The twins return to Boston after hiding out in Ireland after the events of the first movie. Connor sees his old flame and it's not exactly the welcoming he envisioned, so he opts to fix that.

Warnings: There is a mixture of smut and fluff. I'm going to mark the smut with hearts in case anyone isn't in the mood to read it.

Side note: Tried to proofread this as some of it was typed on mobile. Key word being tried. Apologies for any errors.

*****

Some days I question my own memories. Was I really involved with a one of the vigilantes known as the "Saints" eight years ago? Did he really leave all those years ago after killing off some of the most notorious mob bosses in the city? Did this person really exist, or had I replaced my dull life with a fantasy I borrowed from a book?

My greatest proof that time in my life isn't some fabrication is that the city of Boston is moderately safer than when I first moved here. Granted, I never leave home with some type of weapon, but criminals seem much less brazen than they had before. They had no way of knowing the Saints were far from here now, and none were yet willing to risk provoking them out of retirement.

Yet another clue was the graffiti of the Saints on every corner. Most depictions of the MacManus brothers had them as angels, while occasionally a few murals had horns holding up their halos. At least once a day I passed young punks with shirts showcasing their support for the cause. Most of the city was on their side, even now when the last known hit was nearing decade ago.

I had known Connor and Murphy a little more intimately, having served them countless drinks at my uncle's bar. The public would probably be aghast to learn what goofballs their Saints actually are or to hear the story of how they stumbled randomly into their work. Sometimes, I could hardly believe it myself despite knowing the pair.

Connor, the unofficial leader, and I actually dated for much of that time. Well, something akin to it anyway. It's tough to be in a relationship with someone who's always on the run, but I genuinely loved the man.

When he left I was, of course, devastated. Before he had gone, we didn't even get to say a proper goodbye. He did, however, leave a small duffel bag full of money on the porch. Inside contained enough money to pay off the debts my uncle, better known as Doc, had accumulated. It also paid for a few textbooks with enough left over to stash for a rainy day. We were too grateful to mind the bills stained with blood.

Communication has been nonexistent, but I think maybe it was easier that way. It gave me space to get on with my life. Although I had no way of knowing for sure, I imagined him bidding his time in some remote place in Ireland, and a part of me is envious. That said, I like to imagine he's happy there.

I sigh and scold myself. After all these years, I can't believe how often my mind slips back to Connor. He's hiding in some place unknown to me, probably far from this city. The murals around the city serve as an unwelcome reminder of the past, but that doesn't mean I should dwell on it.

But, in fairness, I did lose more than a lover back then. Murphy and Rocco had become like brothers to me. Naturally, Murphy left with his brother. He'd follow him to the ends of the earth and, as far as I know, he had. Rocco had been killed during a botched job, and now I can only talk to the stone with his name on it. Life had become almost unbearably quiet overnight.

Life didn't stop, though. I still had both my uncle and job that needed tending to. Occasionally, the cops would drop by and question us about the Saints, but we flat-footed denied having any knowledge or contact and they eventually stopped asking.

The sky had grown pitch before I managed to pull myself from my haze. I'm sure my uncle was worried. A much more cheerful version of myself had volunteered to drop by and help with the inventory at the bar. By now, he was probably worried sick about me. The lazier side of me considered calling and requesting we reschedule for tomorrow, but I'd already missed visiting with him once this week. Besides, I'd been carrying his medication in my bag for two days now, and I'm sure he is running low.

When I finally reach McGinty's, my uncle is mysteriously absent, and I hear someone laughing so hard that I'm sure they'll pass out if they don't stop soon. Curious, I jog up the stairs and into the old room that leads to an old speakeasy we use for storage.

"Uncle Doc?" I call out, suddenly a little shy at the prospect of having to converse with strangers.

"Ah, lass, you f-f-finally made it! I was starting to worry you'd miss our - fuck! - g-g-guests," he said cheerfully, his words slurred more than usual by what I assume is Guinness.

I was torn between scolding the old man for drinking and asking who comes visiting at this hour when I see two familiar faces. There's another I don't recognize, but I hardly register him for a moment. Standing before me like the second coming is none other than Connor Macmanus.

I probably look like a simpleton as I stare at him in disbelief. He smiles at me in his charming way, and my stomach suddenly feels tight. For a moment, I wrestle with what to say. Should I turn around and leave? He's clearly here for a safe place to spend the night and not a reunion with me. Or should I take the opportunity to be in his arms one more time? The latter feels like a favorable option.

"Hello, lass," he says quietly while I lull it over. It's only two words, but I could tell him accent had grown thicker. Perhaps I had been right about Ireland.

"Hey," I reply with an embarrassingly shaky voice.

Connor seems as uncomfortable as I am, which isn't like him. Almost nothing rattled this man before, but it occurred to me that perhaps he hadn't expected to see me here tonight. When he opened his mouth to speak again, I decided to beat him to the punch.

"Murph," I squeal, jogging over to wrap him in a tight hug.

"Hey, lass. How the hell have you been?" he asks, returning the hug. I see his eyes cut over to a scowling Connor, but I elect to ignore that. The boys both hate it when women try to use their brother to get back at the other one and I'm sure that's what Connor assumes I'm doing.

"Sorry for my rudeness," I say to the stranger, "hello person I've never met before."

"Hey, what's up? I'm Romeo," he says, extending his arm out to shake my hand.

I reciprocate and say, "nice to meet you Romeo."

"Same to you," he says, flashing a toothy smile.

"What brings you back here?" I ask, directing my question more towards Murphy than anyone else.

"Did you hear about the priest?" he asks, a dark look flashes across his face.

"Yeah, I was sorry to hear about it," I respond sympathetically.

"We were framed for it and now we're here to take out every motherfucker that had anything to do with it," Connor says, his voice deep and pensive.

I look over at him briefly. "Well, I hope that you will."

"Obliged," he says in a barely audible voice. I'm not sure if I imagined it or not, but I thought I noticed his hand extending out to me before he quickly tucked it into his pocket.

After a moment of unbearable silence, I turn my attention back to my uncle. "Did you still need help tonight?"

"No, lass. The whiskey can hol…fuck! S-s-stay up here and v-v-v-vist with the boys for awhile."

"Apologies, but I better head home. Early work tomorrow, you know? But here's your medication."

Reaching into my purse, I pulled out the bag I'd picked up earlier this afternoon from the pharmacy. The old man scowled at the before begrudgingly accepting it. He's of a firm mind that a stiff drink is the best medicine money can buy, but it only takes a minimal amount of pleading from me and he'll take the pills.

"T-t-thank you, lass," he wheezes.

"Ah, come on, lass. Come have a beer with us," Murphy shouts excitedly.

"Drink an extra one for me, Murph," I say, feeling guilty about the hurt look on his face.

"Will do," he assures me.

I bid everyone a good night and reprimand my uncle about his drinking, to which he assures me that he's only had a few. From the amount of beer cans placed wall to wall, I can tell he's had more than his fair share. Murphy and Romeo loudly said good night and raise a beer to me. I raise my hand in a faux cheers and turn to leave.

Connor says goodbye to me, his voice still almost a whisper.

"Bye," I say softly, suddenly a little angry that it took eight years to get a goodbye from him.

Never before had I been this happy to leave McGinty's, even after the worst twelve hour shift you can imagine. Likewise, I've never been this happy that I lived within walking distance of the bar. I probably could move into a nicer apartment, but now I was glad to be in my crummy apartment.

Once inside, I went about the usual nightly routine. I showered, brushed my hair, and slipped into a pair of old clothes that had certainly seen better days. My stomach growls, and I remember I hadn't eaten anything since this morning. I curse myself for my poor time management skills. There's nothing decent to eat because I keep skipping out on grocery shopping. Granted, I could order something, but I think I'd just be ready for sleep by the time it got here. In the end, I say to hell with it and order from the Chinese restaurant at the end of the block.

A few moments later, I hear a knocking on my door. That's awfully fast. By the time the thought had crossed my mind, I open the door to see Connor standing there.

"Connor?"

"Aye, so you do remember me, then," he snaps.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Back at the bar? You acted like I was a stranger."

"Well, it's been eight fucking years. I suppose you are a stranger to me now."

"Ach, but Murph is still your best fucking pal, then?"

"For fuck's sake, you had to leave. I understand that, but why the hell are you angry with me? Because I didn't jump into your arms the moment I saw you? Didn't beg you never to leave me again?"

"Oh, Mary and Joseph!" he screams, throwing his arms in the air.

"Come inside," I hiss, "I have nosy neighbors."

He does as I ask and slips into the apartment with sparing me a glance. My heart was drumming in my chest. I'm not sure what he expects from me, nor do I know what to say to him. I want him to leave, but I mostly want him to stay.

"Where were you all this time?" I ask, trying to soften my tone.

"Ireland. We were working a sheep farm," he answers flatly.

"I thought you'd be in Ireland. Sounds like a dream."

"Aye, I suppose to some it may sound that way."

Silence.

"What is it that you want, Connor?"

The look on his face is one of confusion. "I wanted to see ya. If you've got some little boyfriend who's gonna get his knickers in a twist, I could…"

"No, I don't have a boyfriend," I say, a little hastier than intended.

That makes him smile and he turns away to try to hide his expression. Why that should make him happy, I can't say. Surely it couldn't change anything between us.

"What about you," I ask, "do you have a lass waiting on you to come back home?"

He laughs at that. "Aye, several."

"Bastard," I pop back, popping his arm playfully.

For a brief moment, the years melted away and things felt like they had before. We've always enjoyed giving each other hell. At least some things never change. Another knock at the door pulls me cuts through my thoughts. This time it was the restaurant delivering my food. I grabbed my purse, paid for the food, and wished the man a good day. After, I put the food on the table and left it there. Food was now the least of my concerns.

Connor speaks suddenly, causing me to jump a little. "Ya know, I thought the whole boat ride about what I would say to you if I saw you. None of that even crossed my mind. I was just happy to see ya again."

"I've played the scenario in my head a few times, too. Sometimes it ends well for you, occasionally it doesn't"

"Aye," he says, laughing. "From the look you gave me, I was a little worried for me balls."

This time, it was me who laughs. "Question, sir. Would you not have come and seen me if I hadn't surprised you at the bar?"

"I didn't know if I should," Connor confesses.

"Why not?" I ask, getting a little angry again.

He sighs deeply and holds his head in his hands. "It's just that, well, I figured you'd be married. Or at the least, you'd be seeing someone."

"Even if I was, I'd still like to see you. Know that you're okay."

"Ach, maybe I'm selfish, but I didn't like the idea of having to see your new fella. Having to shake his hand and be polite. The whole time thinking to meself how much I hate the bastard."

"You hate someone that doesn't exist, Connor," I sigh, shifting through my bag of food and arranging the it around the table.

Connor chuckled softly and set to exploring the apartment. It was hardly different than it was before. The paint job was perhaps a little better, and there were more pictures of new friends, but otherwise it was the same. I look over and notice him lingering over an old picture Murphy, Connor, Rocco, and myself sitting a McGinty's, all of us smiling like we'd just won the lottery. I wonder if he misses those days as much as I do.

"Damn, I always order way too much. Would you like some food?"

"Ach, fuck the food!" Connor hisses, swiftly crossing the threshold back into the kitchen.

"Wha-?" I ask, but he takes my face into his hand and kisses me deeply before I can finish the question. I was too stunned to return the favor at first. After years of craving his kiss, it didn't feel real to me. But is it, and I've wanted it too fucking long to waste it now.

I kiss him back with fervor, my fingers wrapping gently around his hair. He pulled my body closer to his before slowly tracing my lips with his tongue. The faint fragrance of tobacco lingered and - oh! - how I've missed it!

The kiss felt new and different all at once. Comfortable, yet exciting. I probably could have stayed like this for hours, but the slight bulge I felt pressed against my leg suggested Connor had more on his mind.

<3 <3 <3

He placed one more kiss on my lips, like a signature, before planting several strategic kisses along my cheek and leaving a trail down my neck. I moan in ecstasy as he makes his way to the top of my breasts. Skilled hands moved from the small of my back and teasingly pinch the protruding nipple beneath my shirt.

Shyly, I place my hand on the lump in his jeans. We've done this hundreds of times before, but that feeling like this is all new sets in again. I can feel a blush rise in my cheek when I hear him grunt deep in his throat.

Without warning, he moves my hand aside and picks me up in one fell swoop, his hand resting under my ass. I involuntarily squealed, but Connor was unphased. His blue eyes looked glossed over. He had one singular thought in his mind, and it involved getting to the bedroom. Now.

The Saint navigated my apartment as if it'd been only yesterday since he was last here. He tosses me down roughly on the bed. I've always loved his roughness and, thankfully, he remembered. I wanted more, wanted all of him - even the rough parts.

"Take off that fecking shirt," he ordered.

I obey, and I'm rewarded with him lying over me to tease my nipples with his tongue. He spent a while this way, rubbing and sucking my breasts until I could feel the wetness forming between my legs. I already want more, but Connor is always meticulous in this part. After a moment of this teasing, he leaves another trail of soft kisses down my stomach, stopping just above the waistline of my pajamas.

The way he grabs my pants, I think he's going to rip them off. Instead, he pulls them down slowly. He's going to take his time and enjoy this. All I want is relief for my throbbing pussy.

"Up," he orders, patting the outside of my thigh.

I lift myself up slightly from the bed, and he pulls my pants down. Earlier, I'd opted out of putting on panties, which immensely pleased Connor. I was suddenly modest again and had to look away from him.

"Beautiful," he comments, which makes me smile. With that accent, the word was even more amazing.

He plants more kisses on the inside of my thigh, easing ever closer to my pussy. I want to ride his face with everything I have, but I'd never take this from Connor. The little teases and pleading are what really get him off. The wait was agonizing, but it was worth it when he light kisses my lips.

I yelp and jump from the sensation, which causes Connor to hold my legs down as he licks little patterns into my clit. My back arches and bite my lip to be quiet. It's been ages since I've been had this treatment, especially from someone who knows what the hell they're doing. My fingers knead their way through his hair again, gripping it gently as I thrust against his tongue.

"Fuck," I mutter, which spurred Connor to slowly slip his fingers inside my opening.

The dual sensation was almost overwhelming and I knew if we kept this up I'd cum right then. I wanted to savor it, so I pulled away from him. He stayed there for on the side of the bed for a moment, still on his knees and his mouth glistening. It turned me on more I can say. I grab his arm and pull him upwards. He stands and I placed my hands on his defined chest. Working on the farm had made him stronger, more muscular than he'd been before. Smirking, he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor.

My cheeks felt flushed again, and I tried not to look him in the face while I unbuckled his belt. After the tedious task of finally getting his pants and boxers off, he stood before me in all his glory. I'll be damned if his member is even more impressive than I remember.

Stop acting like a schoolgirl.

I then get down on my knees, my heart beating like a drum the entire time, and wrap my hand around his cock. Slowly at first, I begin to stroke his length while lightly kissing and teasing the tip. He groaned gutturally. Obviously, he wanted more, but this would be his comeuppance. If I can be patient, so can he.

The soft curses he mutters under his breath spur me further and I wrap my lips agonizingly slowly around his cock. Strong hands wrapped tightly into my hair and it brought me a little pride to know I can make him feel as good as he can make me. I stroked my hand more briskly and moved my mouth gently over his dick at the same time. Connor had inadvertently begun to follow my thrusts with his own.

I hear him mutter a soft fuck when I take his whole shaft into my mouth and follow his length agonizingly slow. The sensation of him in my throat was blissful and I wanted to take it all.

"Get on the bed, lass," he orders, his voice a lustful husk. It's nice to know that I can still make him come undone.

As instructed, I lay on the edge of the bed and spread my legs apart. Connor didn't waste any time rubbing his dick teasingly over my clit. I could tell he was trying to hold himself back from thrusting inside and fucking me right then. No, Connor wanted to savor this, too.

With every bit of self-control he could muster, he slipped his cock in my opening. I gasp loudly.

"You alright, lass?" Connor asks, ceasing to move.

"I'm fine. It's just been...a while."

He leans forward to place a small kiss on my chest. "We'll go slow."

I nod and Connor begins to move gently in and out of my folds. The slight pain gives way to pleasure and I found myself wanting more. I wanted him to fuck me. I wanted him, even if just for tonight.

"Harder," I plead.

All too happy to oblige, Connor hastens his pace and pounds into me with everything he has. He wraps his hand around my throat, giving it a tight squeeze. I dig my fingernails into his chisled chest tight enough to leave little cresent moon indentions in his flesh. I intended to leave my mark somehow.

"Play with yerself," he orders, moving my hand down to my pussy and I begin to rub myself while he pounds into me.

"Connor, I think I'm gonna..."

"Go ahead, lass. I wanna feel it."

I continue rubbing myself, feeling my body tighten with the oncoming orgasm. Connor's pace had gotten sloppy and I knew he was also close. When my body finally releases, it feels like little waves crashing over my body. It was maddening and freeing all at once.

Connor grunted and fell over me slightly, his arms trembling at his weight. My orgasm had set off his own and he'd cum deep inside me. I won't deny it felt wonderful, even if I end up regretting it tomorrow.

"You alright, lass?" He was panting softly and still hadn't pulled himself out.

"Yeah," I say, a little winded myself.

I squeeze my hole a little tighter around him, causing his knees to buckle. He looks down at me through gritted teeth, his expression somewhat pained. Overstimulation, even in this small measure, is a guilty pleasure of ours.

Huffing, he pulls himself from inside me and stands before me. I can feel his seed pooling out of me. For a moment, he stands before me and enjoys the view. Precious little gave him as much joy as watching himself spill out of me.

<3 <3 <3

Once he's satisfied, he extends his hand and offers me help getting up. He pulls me into another tender kiss. We then hurriedly go about the task of cleaning up. While Connor was in the shower, I seized the opportunity to steal his shirt and slip under the covers. Whether or not he will get it back remains to be seen.

My eyelids had grown heavy by the time he was finished. Unabashedly as ever, Connor doesn't bother bother putting back on any clothes and instead sprawls naked beside me on the bed. I can't say I minded, not in the slightest.

"Make yourself right at home, Connor," I tease.

"Happily," he answers, completely relaxed.

I lay my head on his chest and he wraps his arm around me. The rhythm of his heart beating had almost lulled me to sleep before his voice pulled me back to consciousness.

"I did miss you, lass. Even thought about sneakin' back over to see again once or twice."

"Yeah, I missed you, too."

"I'm gonna kill those men who framed me for Father McKinney's death. Maybe once that's over we could..."

I sigh, exasperated. "That part of your life will never be over, Connor. They'll always be another bad guy. I hope you take them all out, but don't make any promises you can't keep."

He grew silent. I can't say whether he was sad or angry. Maybe, like myself, he was both in equal measure. But we've never lied to one another, and I saw no reason to start now.

"Let's just get some sleep," I suggest, "and enjoy whatever time we have left.

And so we did.

The next morning, I was woken up by someone banging on my door. I groan and yell at them to fuck off. It was too early for this nonsense. I turned over to see if Connor was still here. He was, and the bastard snored on peacefully as someone tried to break down my door. I'd forced myself out of bed and slipped my pants back on mere moments before Murphy burst through the door.

"Fucking hell, Murph! How the hell did you get in here!" I scream.

"Because after nine fucking years you haven't changed where you hide your fucking key," he yelled back.

By now, Connor was fully awake. "Get the fuck outta here, Murph!"

Murphy snickered. "I knew you'd be here. Worse than fucking rabbits, you both are."

I flip Murphy the finger and walk past him into the kitchen. This isn't a new occurrence, but it's not something I've dealt with in a long time. I'm older now and require more coffee. As it brews, I hear a large thump from my bedroom and all I can do is pray nothing valuable got damaged. Soon after, a disheveled Murphy comes into the kitchen by an irritated Connor.

"You mind if I have my shirt back, lass?" Connor asks.

"Hm? Oh, sure. You two have some coffee. I'll go change."

"Thanks," Murphy mutters irritability. I imagine it was his head that made the thump before.

I stepped into the bedroom and changed into some fresh clothes. If I didn't already have several of Connor's shirts stuff back somewhere, I'd steal this one, too. Then again, I don't exactly want him walking down the street shirtless. Women gravitate to him easily enough without urging them on.

Back in the kitchen, Connor and Murphy were laughing in-between sips of coffee. I guessed whatever caused the fight had been long forgotten now. When I hand Connor back his clothes, he nods in gratitude and slips it back over his head.

"Sorry to wake you, lass, but I needed to find my brother. We've got some business to take care of and we can't do it without one of his half-ass ideas," says Murphy.

"No worries. I know all about your 'business' and his hair-brain schemes," I reply as I pour myself a cup of coffee.

Connor slaps his brother in the back of the head before addressing me. "I'll have you know that they always fucking work. Eventually."

"Yeah, eventually. After I end up getting tangled in some fucking rope," Murphy pointed out.

"You know, the rope part never bothered me all that much," I retort, giving a little wink.

"Ach, that's enough," he grumbled while Connor laughed and slapped his shoulder.

We chatted for a while before they had to leave. I walked them to the door, a forlorn feeling gnawing at the pit of my stomach. The last time he left didn't have this air of finality, but then I knew he was leaving for peace. I know almost nothing of the foe facing now.

Murphy hugged me tightly before heading down the hall, leaving me and Connor alone. It was silent between us for a moment and I wondered if he felt as sick about this as I do. He would never say if he did, so I can only speculate.

He did, however, kiss me deeply. Almost hungrily. I thought maybe we were about to have a repeat of last night, but he pulled away.

"I love ye, lass."

"I know. I love you, too."

And with that, he was gone again."

***

A few days had passed and we had no word from either of the twins. They'd left with their father and Romeo to fight Yakavetta after a standoff at the bar. My uncle and I feared the worst.

One morning, we were working on restoring the bar after all the fighting that had taken place here. I was busy sweeping up glass when I overheard the word "Saints" on the television. I tossed down the broom and hurried over to turn up the volume. Doc looked over at me in confusion until he saw both Murphy and Connor's face appear on the screen.

The news reporter said they had been captured by police and were being held in a maximum security prison. My heart drummed in my chest. These two had taken out several of the largest mob bosses in the city and now they were being caged like animals among their cohorts. Whoever made that decision is a fool.

My uncle looks absolutely scandalized. "They s-s-should let those boys go. T-t-they do b-b-better work than the police."

"I agree, but that's probably why they were more adamant to catch them than anyone else."

"Too t-t-true," he concedes, "d-d-do you t-t-think anyone will h-h-help."

I shrug, defeated. "Not sure who can at this point. Eunice is in enough hot water as it is. Greenly is dead. Boy, Smecker is probably rolling in his grave right now."

"D-d-don't give up on the b-b-boys yet. They'll f-f-figure something out."

I wish I could say I felt the same. I'm no planner like Connor, nor do I have the faith that even my worst plans will work out. But what is the alternative? Sit idly by while the other prisoners try to tear the MacManus twins apart? Hell no!

"I need to get Detective Duffy or Dolly on the phone. At least that'll be a start to getting them out of there."

My uncle heads to his ancient phone and begins dialing numbers as soon as the thought leaves my mind. "Aye," is all he says in response.

#oneshot #boondock saints #connor macmanus x reader

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