For writings I can't put on my main blog. NSFW and suggestive content ahead. #lemon/"#minors dni" and #lemonish respectively. Please reblog if you like what I write!
Welcome to my parlor~ I am your guide tonight into the land that is my writing blog. Please, take a seat. Writing is divided by safety, then character. Most are in second person, gender neutral, and short unless otherwise stated. Since only a few have actual titles, I have included either the first line or the first few lines of the piece instead.
Reblogs are much appreciated and help more than just likes! (Although I appreciate them, as well.)
SFW works
Things that anyone can interact with. If you are a minor that has somehow made it here, these are the safest stories to interact with.
Silver Downfall - Rating: T, 1693 words You traverse into the demon’s lair to slay it. Whether or not you succeed is another story. (The safest of all my fics and I think the most popular.) (Darkiplier)
"His shoe presses against your sternum, and you hiss at the heat against your chest.” (Darkiplier)
"I used to make do with the rabbits and the deer...but then I realized: Why should I just barely scrape by?" (Vampire Murdock dialogue)
Suggestive/Lemonish
Technically some of these are probably at the upper level of what could be considered teen, but idk if I’d show these to a minor. Thin ice, this category.
Darkiplier:
"How cute. You think you can run?" (First person, female reader)
“Then, your dream changes, melting from one to the next rather than a distinct cut. You’re lying down, on a bed, but you’re not sure where. You rub the fabric between your fingers—it feels so real; oddly real, impossibly so. More than last night’s.”
Damien:
You tilt your head. “Is everything alright, sir?” He coughs. “Yes, quite alright.”
Murdock
"of COURSE i want a big sopping wet man coming after me" aka you decide to pull a prank on Murdock at the pool
Lemon—MINORS DNI
Darkiplier:
Ramble about wanting Dark to hypnotize me lol
“Tentacles. Sticky, dripping with some black unknown substance (although you have your suspicions—). It leaves a trail as it curls around your leg and travels upwards.”
“You peer around the corner into the office, and there he is, just as you thought. Dark wasn’t usually one to take a break when he started working. And that was the problem.” (Female reader, 1318 words)
“No but like Imagine how squirmy he'd be”
Dark spanks you (using dialogue from ahwm) (drabble)
“Who are you?” aka Dark gets you to drop for him (hypno, female reader, use of “maid”)
Dark has gone away. Ego Manor is surprisingly quiet. You’re starting to get antsy.
“How do you feel about adding another person to the mix?”
Hooked
Damien:
You are a servant, hired to clean the mayor’s office. Today is a tiring one, and you decide to take a nap. When you wake, you accidently hear something you shouldn’t. (1450 words)
Loki:
“Luckily, I can be very patient. The question is—”Loki leans in, smiling slyly.“—can you?” (First person)(I tagged this one as lemonish, but it’s really straddling the line, so it’s going here.)
Jotun Physiology Headcanon (with respect to one Loki Laufeyson)
Murderplier/Murdock:
Murderplier/Murdoch spicy headcanons
“Please don’t kill me!” (drabble)
“Murdock doesn’t ‘take naps’—or so he says.” (1201 words)
Experiment (660 words)
Murdock has a habit.
The Perfect Present (2066 words)
Haunted house fun :) (5k words)
Engineer Mark:
Technically
Miscellaneous:
The single Wilford x Reader/Dark x Reader hypno headcanon thing I wrote
Wilford hypno headcanon
“He pulls you onto his lap, gently but a bit too eagerly, and you barely set down the pitcher before you spill.” (Royal f/o x female reader)
Somno fic where you’re just waking up and mans be h*rny (male f/o x female/afab reader)
How they would react to you tying yourself up in ribbon as a gift for them: Actor and Dark
F/O somno prompt
Playfighting Headcanons (multi ego)
"Enjoying yourself, my little sex kitten?" (male f/o x reader)
F/O hypno dialogue prompt (uses "Master" and "little one")
"You didn't understand at first why your vampire f/o had a mirror above his bed."
For all intents and purposes, your f/o appears mostly human.
Sure, he may have some non-human characteristics, but by and large, he could pass at first glance, and you're aware of his non-human nature. So imagine, if you will, having sex with him for the first time. He’s just cum inside you, and you’re both recovering from your collective first orgasm of the night. He pulls back just enough to look at himself covered in both of your fluids, and you move enough to do the same. However, what you see is not a shaft covered in creamy white, but a black substance that otherwise looks and behaves similarly. The gears in your brain turn as you just started blankly at the sight.
Is…is that his cum?
Your eyes dart back up to his in disbelief. He gives you a toothy little grin, not nearly as apologetic as one might expect. “Well. Seems I neglected one small detail.”
Despite his expression, he watches you carefully, gauging your reaction much the same as when you saw his dick for the first time. You, for your part, aren't entirely sure how you feel at first, swept up in the chemicals of pleasure…but one particular thought is winning out.
Fuck, that's hot.
Not only is it his cum, and it's inside you, marking you as his, but it's such a distinct color that there's no question at all…
Your eyes meet his again, and his veil in response to what he sees in your expression. You move to reach for him, and he’s on you in an instant, pushing back in and capturing your lips with his. Your moans blend together, unsure where yours ends and his begins. The quiet squish as he seats himself fully inside you once more sets you aflutter around him.
“I take it that means you approve?” he breathes against your lips, his own curling. You just pull him in for another bruising kiss, moaning your response.
“Aw, is my little cunt too small for my fat cock?” He grins wickedly, continuing his saccharine tone as he thrusts into you, measured and deep, to the hilt every time. “Is it too much for you? Too overwhelming?”
You can't think. Your breaths come in gasps.
“Poor thing came the moment I pushed myself inside…” He clicks his tongue. “And we still have so much more to go.” He punctuates the sentiment with a groan and a particularly sharp thrust, one that makes you curse and see stars. In spite of yourself, you whine. Loudly.
You don't notice, but his eyes flicker with triumph. “Oh? You want that too, hm? You want me to stretch you, to fill you to the brim with my cock deep inside you? How about with my cum, hm?”
Your eyes widen about as well as they can at the moment, snapping to him and his smug expression. With what room?! “One step at a time, pet. First, we've got to empty that pretty brain of yours until there's nothing left…” He grinds against you, pubic bone hitting your clit, and you shake and whine. “Just how many times can this little pussy handle cumming around this thick…fat…cock?”
Your eyes are rolling back, and already you swear you're on the brink again. You feel his breath hot against your ear only a split second before his voice rumbles through you. “I guess we'll just have to find out.”
You come into the room wearing a big shirt, just long enough to obscure your lower half. No underwear. He's a bit surprised to find this out as he takes hold of your hips and presses you against him, but he certainly isn't complaining; not when he can feel your heat through his pants, and not when you moan quietly from feeling him twitch. He slowly rolls his hips, dampness already starting to cling to his pants as your breathing shudders.
You continue like this for a little longer, slowly grinding against each other, maintaining eye contact, before you lift up your shirt enough for him to see what you’re doing. His eyes darken, watching intensely, and you decide to put on a bit of a show for him, biting your lip and slowing down even further, becoming more deliberate with every roll of your hips. It’s almost tortuous, really, because you would much rather go faster instead, but it’s all worth it once he lifts his eyes to meet yours.
You nearly drown in an instant with how veiled his expression is, like he wants nothing more than to devour you whole. You could cum like this, you think, and knowing him, he probably will make you do so at least once. But for now, you throw your head back with a soft moan, and his grip tightens on your hips as he guides you. You get to maintain your pace, but you know it won’t be long before he encourages you faster, faster, until you fall apart. And you’ll both love every second of it.
A/N: Well uh. Didn't expect to write anything new but here we are. Heard a song, wanted to use a lyric (even though it doesn't quite fit how Dark talks lol). Iykyk; you'll see it. 😶 Gender neutral reader, AFAB but no specific descriptions.
Word count: 564
The growl Dark lets out into your ear, long and low, is not unlike a wild animal. It makes you weak. You swear you could cum from that sound alone. “Naughty thing.”
You pant, heart thumping in time with the heady beat of the music you convinced Dark to put on, music that only served to help turn you both on more than expected. You wish you could see his face, twisted up with pleasure like it probably is. “Huh?” you breathe.
“You don't know…just how much…” He nips at your ear, deliberately breathing heavily into it just to feel you flutter around him in response. “You've got me hooked.”
The word rumbles into you, the desire drenching it causing heat to pool instantly, biting your lip as you shudder. He shifts up, adjusting himself as he folds your legs against your chest as best he can, maneuvering you into a mating press. “Hooked on you. Ruining anyone else for me.” He punctuates the sentence with a thrust that completely scrambles you, and you let out a wild cry. “Naughty.”
Meanwhile, your face flushes profusely. You? Ruining anyone else for him? You should be saying that to him: there's no way anyone else can even come close to him. You try to hide behind your hands, but he starts up a punishing pace that sends you reeling, throwing your head back with moans of pleasure and gripping the sheets as your body and mind struggle to keep up.
He chuckles, broken up by grunts of effort. Dark looms over you, overwhelming your space, pitch-black eyes with glints of color taking you in as you drop into that blissful state you frequently find yourself in at times like these, growing ever closer to the edge with startling velocity.
‘Go on.’
Your eyes refocus on him, with his tousled hair and a sharp, salacious grin, fangs clearly visible. Shadows waft off him like steam. ‘I know you heard me.’ His grin widens as his voice echoes in your head and you whine: he can feel you dropping deeper into his thrall. Then, all at once, something finds your sensitive spot, rubbing insistently, and he speaks simultaneously with his voice in your head:
“Cum for me.”
You shriek out a curse with how quickly your orgasm overwhelms you, back arching as you clench intensely around him. Dark grunts, but doesn't quite stop, and it very well could drive you mad on its own…
…if that insistent pressure wasn't still continuing, and you swear you're going to—
Your eyelids flutter wildly as your eyes roll, the electricity forcing a surprised squeal from you as a second orgasm rolls through you before your first is even fully done, the addictive feeling overtaking you. You don't see the way Dark looks at you, like a predator about to devour his meal, with a hint of something akin to fondness at the edges, barely noticable; and with a groan that threatens to cause you to tumble again, he finally buries himself within you, filling you to the brim, balls clenching against you as he gives you every last drop.
Your mouth falls open, still in your throes, and his mouth finds yours, delving in hungrily. You find yourself succumbing to him even more, letting him take over, consume you fully. Ruin you fully. Becoming totally his.
It's that time of year again when haunted houses are in full swing, and despite your best efforts, you are going alone to have some fun getting spooked. Might you get more than you bargained for, however?
Word Count: 5015. Yeah. This one kinda got away from me lol. Fun fact, this is now my longest fic ever. This was also supposed to be done for last year, but I clearly vastly underestimated how long this was going to be.
Mild knifeplay, "kidnapping," gender neutral but afab reader. Murdock x reader. Potentially inaccurate haunted house depiction.
MINORS DNI!
~~~
Dusk dapples the sky while you stand in line, waiting for the local haunted house event to open its doors, rubbing your arms to ward off the beginnings of a chill in the air. Despite living here a while, this is your first time you've built up the nerve to go. It takes up the entire fairgrounds, with multiple houses under one event. You had extended an invitation to Murdock, because you were sure it was right up his alley, but he declined, citing work. He's been away an awful lot this month, despite his best efforts, and you were hoping to spend more time with him out and about instead of just within your four walls and between the sheets. But alas, it seems like it's not to be, and you had reassured him it was alright, even as you tried to mask your disappointment.
You mostly relegate all that to the back of your mind, your excitement more prominent now that you're here. You hesitated to attend in the years prior because some of the houses were interactive, where the actors could grab you. It was one of the selling points you had used to appeal to Murdock, animatedly mimicking it in the air, although you wonder now that you think about it if that was a deal breaker for him; after all, thanks to his…line of work, would he have reacted negatively? The last thing either of you need, especially him, is legal action.
Regardless, you're not sure now why it was such a problem for you that you didn't even try the normal houses; and after all, it's not like the ones where they can touch you have free reign. Although you do have to fill out a liability form, so maybe that's why you over-thought it in the past.
You're at the front of the line before you realize it, handing over your money—extra for the specialty houses—and signing the necessary forms. The woman in the booth puts on your wristband and gives you a map and a spiel that she's already had to recite multiple times, but you are eating up every word, grinning excitedly.
"Welcome to our little town of horrors, where the streets and fields are home to a great many spooky things, where the veil between the supernatural and our world grows thinner by the day. But beware: it's not just the ghost and ghouls that are out to get you… Good luck."
And with that, you're free to start exploring. You wander around for a little bit, gaining your bearings on the area, but it isn’t long before impatience overtakes you and you head towards the first haunted house. The smell of food is enticing, as are the Halloween-themed carnival games, but that all can wait. The best way to tackle this is head-on, even if you're sure these beginning houses are going to be pretty okay. This is, after all, just a local event, even if it does pull in quite the crowd. Plus, you’re starting at the tamest one, with plenty of kids out front, so you’ll be fine.
Let the spookening begin.
Your first house was actually a little underwhelming because of being geared so young, but you worked your way through the other two houses you wanted to try before getting to the “final boss” of the haunted houses tonight. You were sufficiently spooked, both through corridors and a corn maze, but the goal wasn’t “sufficient.” With slightly overpriced pizza sitting in your stomach, you start towards your final destination.
Excitement and nervousness, stronger than before, bubble together the closer you get, the previous scares coming to your mind’s eye, but you force yourself through it rather than chicken out. You didn’t come all this way just to back out. You do wish Murdock was here, though; you’d feel a lot better if he was. Things seem less scary with a man like him by your side. The screams from within startle you from your thoughts. You swear they're louder here.
The attendant checks your wristband to make sure you're allowed in, then waves you along into the corral with the next batch of "victims." You fidget with your hands and glance around at the rest of the event. It's only now you realize how physically isolated this house is from the others.
"First time?"
You turn to see a guy around your age with a group of a few others, probably his friends. You chuckle, your nervousness evident. "Yeah. I went through some of the others already, just this one left."
The guy grins, while the two girls resume some quiet discussion. "It'll be fine. They'll just push you and tug on your clothing a bit, maybe grab your hand, but nothing too bad."
"As if you don't scream every time," one of the girls pipes up from her conversation.
He huffs, only half insulted, and you can't help but giggle in tandem with the girls. "I do not—"
“Do too.” The girl who spoke grins. “I bet you’d scream real loud if we went to one of those newer places where they can drag you off somewhere”
“They actually allow that?” you interject, eyes rounding in surprise.
“Yeah, I heard a couple of the big popular places are adding that as a feature.” The girl pulls her coat around her, the wind kicking at everyone’s legs. “It’ll probably never happen here, though. Not with everything that’s happened recently.”
While it does genuinely take you a moment, you nod and go “ah” as if you aren’t in flagrante delicto with the culprit of crimes a few towns over. A culprit whom you were originally planning on bringing here— Thankfully, you’re almost to the door of the house, so the group’s focus is more on getting in than on you, and nobody seems to notice your smile growing a bit taut.
“Hey, why don’t you stick with us?” The other girl you haven’t spoken with yet bounces on her feet.
“Yeah, it’s more fun as a group,” the guy says. His buddy nods.
“Sure,” you say, the twisty feeling in your stomach loosening. “The more the merrier, right?”
Everyone in the group gives some form of acknowledgement, and then the attendant cuts in with their spiel about the theming—a mansion, run down with time after the owner and his staff’s mysterious disappearances…if that’s really what happened. Rumor has it that something terrible befell everyone inside—and they might think you’re to blame, if you’re not careful. They also bring up reminders about protocol while in the house. You've heard all of it at the other haunted houses here, and not much changes with the addition of physicality; as always, if it gets too overwhelming, there are ways out that all the performers know.
The buddy turns to you once the speech is done. “What’s your name, by the way?”
You introduce yourself, and he repeats your name. “Nice to meet you.” He gives his own name and sounds off everyone else’s. You try and commit it all to memory, even if you’re not sure how well it will stay.
“Nice to meet all of you.”
And with that, you step over the threshold, and the door slams shut behind you. You jump higher than you think is warranted, but the scaredy cat in the group does in fact let out a yelp, which sets everyone off laughing. You collectively take a moment to consider the path in front of you: a narrow corridor, flickering with sickly yellow lighting, the remnants of pumped-in fog curling at the floor.
You’re not entirely certain who steps forward first, but it definitely isn’t you. Despite knowing this is all fake and having already gone through other hallways similar to this one, it still has enough of a thrall to induce a silence that grows more tense the further you all get. The walls are eerily similar to how you would imagine a decrepit mansion to be, wallpaper peeling off in sheets, and you find yourself suspicious of every dark spot in the wall. Even the mirrors in the supposed foyer, cracked and broken, are suspect. The sounds of a creaking house and muffled howling winds are piped in; quiet enough to make you second guess where you are, but loud enough that it almost feels too loud in the enclosed space.
One of the girls lets out a shriek, pulling away suddenly from the wall, and you practically jump out of your skin. She giggles nervously. “It got me!”
Everyone else follows suit, letting out a laugh that normally would release tension. You can only speak for yourself when you think about how it didn’t much help.
“Get out! The master is gone: Get out while you still can!”
The warning, shouted at a frightening pitch, kicks your group forward, everyone pressing together as the hall narrows more, then widens again, a bend ahead of you all. You feel a hand against your sleeve, and you jank it back quickly with a surprised curse. A cold breeze tickles your neck, and it takes all your willpower not to shriek, even though that is perfectly in spirit with a haunted house (pun not intended). “Please tell me someone else felt that cold air?” you squeak.
“Yeah, I did,” says the guy in front of you. You already can’t tell which one he is.
The wood beneath your feet groan as you all continue forward, the sconces flickering with the yellow light your eyes have gotten used to. You shove your hands into your pockets; the closer you keep your limbs, the less likely they are to be grabbed. The door handle beside your group rattles. It’s not fake. You all move a little quicker.
The floorboards creak behind you, and you feel like you turn as if in slow motion to see a man standing in the middle of the hallway in a mask, human-like but definitely not human. Every feature is exaggerated just enough to be unnatural, and in this place, it works a little too well. With his frame, he seems to take up the entire hallway; and if not physically, then with his presence. Your eyes lock onto him, and you stop walking, as if he’s frozen you in place. Everything else disappears: no sound, no sight except for this man. And there’s something about him…
The man lets out a guttural growl, the kind that sends genuine fear into the pit of your stomach. You’re the first to scramble to run the moment he shifts to pursue, pushing through the rest of your group, the spell broken, but everyone else soon follows suit, screams echoing in the tiny corridor. You're not sure where theirs end and yours begins. You whip your head around just long enough to confirm where the man is before you round the corner, and your line of sight is perfect to see him between everyone’s heads, the unsettling lighting warping the mask more. You swear you see a knife in his hand.
Finally, after a few minutes of running, one of the girls must have glanced back, because you hear her call out behind you, "He's gone!" Your feet don't quite get the memo, and you find yourself out ahead of the group as you slow and catch your breath.
“Fuck’s sake,” you mutter to yourself. Why did that scare you so much?
“Are you okay?” one of the guys asks. You nod.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” It’s half a lie, and you laugh nervously. “Just part of the experience, right?”
“Right.”
“We should probably keep moving though. Who knows when the next person’s gonna jump out at us.” Despite not being fully ready, you lead the group forward, trying to figure out what it was this time. It’s probably not that deep, but it feels important to figure out.
However. Something occurs to you.
That mask didn't look like it belonged in this house
Teeth bared in a snarl too wide to be natural, prominent eyebrows casting shadows over the eyes, more creature than human, despite being human-like. Surely it's just a mistake, but all the other houses have been meticulous with what they had to work with, so for a slip-up to happen now seems odd. Although, it could still fit, since it had been said nobody knew what happened to the occupants of the mansion. That doesn't quite explain, however, why his outfit—including an almost knee-length modern coat with pants—wasn't that of a servant, nor the head of the mansion…
“That was a pretty good scare,” says one of the girls behind you.
“Yeah, that felt so visceral,” says the other. "Wild."
“I have the heebie jeebies.” It’s that guy, the scared one.
“You always get the ‘heebie jeebies.’”
He huffs. “Shut up—”
You slow down, falling to the back of the group. You swear you hear something that isn’t just the sound system, but maybe it's just your overactive imagination. After all, anyone would be on high alert after being chased. The guy you haven’t spoken to gives you a look that you almost miss, but you don't explain yourself. No point.
“I thought this was supposed to be more grabby.”
“Maybe we just haven’t gotten that far yet.”
“I know this place is big, but it’s not that big.”
“They probably just want to build up the spookiness,” you interject, even if you’re not fully convinced, yourself.
“Ah, that would make sense.”
You stop in front of another destroyed mirror, pieces scattered on the table under it. Your own face is almost unrecognizable, horridly lit and fractured in the reflection, concern and fear staring back at you.
“YOU WILL PAY FOR WHAT YOU’VE DONE!”
It comes from up ahead, and it snaps you from your trance, but instead of seeing your new acquaintances, you see…nobody. Everyone is gone. Even the voice you heard isn’t visible to you.
You swear you see a bit of the one girl's hair trailing behind her at the bend ahead, but you're much too far away already, and you're not sure they noticed you're not with them yet. It stings a little, even if you know they didn’t mean anything by it, but your nervousness overpowers that, the uncertainty of what lies ahead gnawing at you. You jog forward, just fast enough to hopefully catch up with the rest of the group—
You hear a loud THUMP somewhere behind you, startling you enough to jump. With the way the ground vaguely vibrates, whatever hit the floor must have done so pretty hard. You swallow thickly. “Guys?” you call out. No answer. You jog with more urgency now, your footfalls and heartbeat equal tempo in your ears. More than likely, they didn’t hear you because of ambience, but you fear they’ve gotten too far away in such a short span of time. You pick up speed—
—but there’s another noise behind you, a shuffling, that has you stop again, head whipping around to try and find the source. With the corners so dark, it’s impossible to tell if someone is there or if it was just an animal that found its way in. You stand there for a few seconds longer than you should, staring into the darkness. Something is up, and the lack of anything actually happening is making this so much worse than being physically pushed and pulled in different directions. You’re not a haunted house expert by any means, but this place has been far too quiet. Slowly, you continue to move forward, the faux fog growing thicker with less bodies to disturb it. The floor creaks uncomfortably loud. You don’t remember any mention about multiple pathways, so where the hell is everyone?
There's a tug on your hair, and you barely suppress a yelp, but you suppose it was an accident…although it was rather close to your scalp; how did someone get that close without you realizing after all this time…
Suddenly, there's a hand clamped around your wrist, jolting you, and you'd think it a coincidence if it wasn't for the one wrapping around your mouth, dragging you to someone and into the shadows. You scream, but it's muffled, drowned out by the suddenly overly loud sound system, and your efforts to struggle out of your assailant's grip are futile, holding you tightly against their body as they maneuver you with much more ease than you'd expect. It's honestly kind of scary how little you're affecting them. Their hands are oddly cool against your skin, and then you realize it's not their skin, but some material.
Leather.
A door slams open behind you, and you're dragged into a room. The outside noises are muffled, then dampened once the door shuts again, trapping you in the dim space with whoever has kidnapped you. You're still yelling, trying to stomp on their feet and throw your head back against their chin, but their shoes are too solid and they're too tall to headbutt. Your hands twist around to pinch or scratch, but all you get is fabric.
"Sweet thing," a man's voice growls into your ear, "you better cooperate, or else this will be a lot more difficult for you."
The person's hands shift, and hope surges that you'll get an opening, but before you can get very far in acting through it, you're forced to the ground face down, hips suddenly pressed up against you, and you freeze. He's rock hard.
"Or you can struggle all you like. Doesn't much matter to me." Somehow, you can tell there's a grin to his voice. "It just encourages me to try harder."
It takes you a moment too long to try and buck him off, gnashing your teeth. "Get off of me! You'll be sorry!"
You feel the man throb, and he laughs lowly. "Sorry how, sweetheart? A pretty thing like you, at my mercy…"
The chill of metal against your skin startles you into freezing again, and something about it seems…familiar. The cogs take a moment to turn, but then they click into place. You know that voice. "Murdock?"
He's quiet for a moment, then chuckles. "Well, well. Smart cookie. Not that I expected anything less from my kitten.”
Considering the shock of it all prevented you from thinking straight, he's lucky you didn't panic more. "Wh— What are you doing here? I had thought—"
"I couldn't resist the opportunity." Murdock tosses something to the ground—a mask he was apparently wearing. "And work…ended much sooner than I thought."
The lighting is terrible, but your eyes focus on the mask, which stares back at you with a bared grin, more bestial than you realized, and a memory flashes: Being pursued down the hall, sickly yellow light flashing across its exaggerated features— "But how—"
He shushes you, hands trailing across your neck to expose it to him. "I have my ways, sweetling. Not everyone is as careful as they could be." He starts pressing startlingly soft kisses to your neck, although it isn't long before they become more insistent, and you bite your lip and shiver. "Yourself included."
His dangerous tone sets off a nervousness in the pit of your stomach: it’s the type of tone he uses when you’ve been misbehaving. “L-listen, Murdock, I carry that pepper spray with me, you know I’ll be okay—”
“Do I? After all, look at how easily I stole you away…”
Shit. He’s not wrong. "You—you’re just abnormally strong.” You swear you hear a light chuckle, but you ignore it and squirm in one more attempt to get free. “The others, they're— they're waiting for me—"
"Are they?" He can't hide the hint of possessiveness that creeps into his voice, and one of his hands presses into your back to stop you. "They can wait, sweetheart. We haven't had our fun yet."
The sharp tip of something presses against your center, and you yip, jolting forward. “Don’t you dare! I’m not about to replace these—”
“Alright, I won’t. Help me get you out of them, then."
His hands push their way under your coat to find the band of your jeans, and a half second after he starts, your brain jumpstarts again and you scramble to assist him, finding the waistband before he does and pushing it down your body. Murdock takes over when it rounds your ass, shoving the material to your knees with impatience. You try and kick them off, although it is very difficult in this position; he helps a little bit, but once you’ve gotten it off one leg, he grips your thighs, forcing you to stay still. Slowly, the cold metal of the flat of his blade trails over your skin: along your thigh, pressing against the underside of your ass, across and down to the other thigh…then it’s pressing against your core again, and with nothing but your underwear left to protect you, you can’t help but whimper.
“These are easily replaceable, though. Aren’t they, kitten?”
His knife pushes a little firmer against you, and your breathing shudders. It takes everything within you not to press back. “...Yes, sir.”
His grin is as clear as day in his voice this time. “Perfect.”
It’s the only warning you get before a gloved finger hooks between your skin and the cotton, pulling it away just enough to allow the knife to slip through and slice. Your underwear offers no resistance, cut through like butter and exposing you in an instant. The cold only chills you for a moment, his groin back against yours and grinding roughly, and all you can do is fail to hold back your moan. He only does this for a few seconds before pulling back. His jingling belt gives away his intentions, and your blood pumps faster in anticipation.
“Do you think you’re ready? Hm?” There’s a soft sound and fabric going flump, and his bare hand is on your clit, rubbing intensely. You gasp wildly, nodding without actually knowing if you are or not. Murdock’s fingers dip into you, checking for himself. You don’t resist lifting your hips towards them, trying to guide them further in with a desperate whine. He just teases you, sliding back and forth and occasionally thumbing your sensitive nub.
“Please,” you whisper without thinking.
“What’s that?” Fuck, he sounds so smug, and you’d love to snap back at him for it, but him slowing to a snail’s pace is too distracting. “I didn’t quite hear you.”
“Please, Murdock!”
His fingers leave you, and you pout and whine quietly. However, his zipper popping open has you changing your tune. “One more try.”
There’s little hesitation from you. “Pleasefuckme!”
“Mm.” His head slides through your folds, and you gasp again. This time, his gloved hand stills you before you can move. “Music to my ears.”
That’s all the warning you get before he slowly slides into you, gripping your hips. You squeak, lashes fluttering as your breaths come out in puffs, adjusting to how almost easily he stretches you. He rubs at you a little more, and he sinks in the rest of the way. A low moan is his reward, followed by one of his own. Murdock hardly moves at first, simply grinding within you and rocking his hips in shallow movements. Then, suddenly, he draws back all the way and snaps his hips against yours, and you yelp in surprise. You aren’t given much of a reprieve before he does it again. And again. And again. And each time, you let out a shout, although you try to muffle yourself, thinking you hear footsteps in the hall. At any moment, someone from the staff could come in here. Does he know this?
Better question is, does he care? You’re not sure if you want to admit that it kind of turns you on.
Murdock starts a steady pace, not so intense as before but just as overwhelming. You’re panting already, struggling to keep quiet. He notices and chuckles. "Go ahead and scream." His command is uncannily punctuated by muffled screams from within the haunted house proper. "Do you really think they can hear you over everyone else’s, let alone the sounds from the haunted house itself?" His breath is hot by your ear. "Nobody's going to investigate, sweet thing. I have you all to myself, now."
That shouldn’t excite you as much as it does, holding back a whimper, yet you can’t hold back the way you tighten around him. He slows, as if making sure of something, then growls. “Oh, naughty thing. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
You clamp your mouth shut, hoping that if you don’t answer, he’ll leave it alone. But alas, your body betrays you once more, and Murdock stops, a certain something sharp that you forgot about dragging against your neck just enough for you to be aware of it, your breath catching. “Answer me, kitten.”
“Yes, sir.” The reply rushes from your lips with more neediness than you thought it would have.
“First you let your ‘kidnapper’ fuck you, now this?” he teases, clicking his tongue with mock disappointment. “Seems I need to learn more about my kitten.”
Your face flushes intensely. It’s no different than when he’s chased you out in the woods, and he knows this. He just can’t help himself…but also he’s more than willing to play into the role of pursuer. This you know well.
“Maybe I should be making you beg more for me to fuck you.” His gloved hand trails along your thigh. “But I’m much too impatient for that.”
His grip grows tight enough to bruise, his thrusts growing intense to match, and you let out a sound unlike any you’ve made thus far, wild and raw and overwhelmed with pleasure. Murdock laughs, triumphant and deep like his thrusts, and more than tinged with lust. It almost seems to settle into your bones.
“God. What a rush you give me.”
His pace is technically slower now, but that doesn’t matter with the way your eyes roll with every impact. You feel him lean over, but don’t know what’s happening until his lips reach your neck, kissing and sucking the skin he can find. Your moan is so whorish that it would embarrass you under different circumstances. His lips curl against your neck, although you barely comprehend that’s what’s happening. You try and reach your hand to your clit, but he beats you to it, only to rub so harshly that you practically sob out a cry. “FUCK!”
“If you insist,” he says, his strained voice giving away how much you’re affecting him. That hand travels back up to hold your hip in a vice grip. He lets out that same guttural growl from earlier, this time low and long, and with it directly in your ear, you nearly lose your mind, fluttering madly around him. You're so close—
"There it is. There we are." Murdock growls again, shorter but nowhere less effective. "Do it. Cum. Scream for me."
Despite being so tightly wound, you’re almost not sure if you can obey…until he groans and slams once more into you—and with a shriek, you are undone, clenching wildly around him and thighs trembling with an orgasm more intense than you expected. Murdock grunts in surprise, trying to continue fucking you through it. Your mind fractures with every attempted stroke, whimpering and babbling curses.
“Oh fuck—”
Murdock grunts once, twice, then he’s spilling inside you, cock pulsing harshly, the heat of him and his skin flush against yours driving you mad. He gasps and huffs and puffs, hand blinding finding you and rubbing again just enough to feel you clench around him harder. You keen loudly, practically a shriek in and of itself, legs threatening to give out as your body is kept on that intense plateau.
Eventually, the rush of cum slows, as does his throbbing inside you, and your own body is, mercifully, allowed to relax, still fluttering but not actively climaxing. The both of you pant heavily, catching your breaths as the two of you recover. His hands slide over your body, the strange dichotomy of skin and leather over and under your clothes. Murdock slips from you, and you’re too tired yet to be disappointed by it. He guides you in rolling you onto your back, and you don’t resist, grateful to give your legs a break from supporting you.
You blink almost blearily at where he ought to be, your eyes needing to adjust again to the lighting. You find your legs spread wide, almost folded in half, and his cockhead against your entrance once more. He doesn’t do anything at first, probably just taking you in. It’s a welcome, true reprieve. His bare hand brushes against your cheek, and you lean into it on instinct.
While maybe the break ought to last longer, Murdock is true to his word and impatient to have you. As he slides into you again with an unabashed moan that’s matched with your own, it strikes you as always that he’s already—still?—half hard again. If there’s one guarantee about Murdock among the other guarantees, it’s that he doesn’t stay soft for long.
Now, you can see him, face closer to yours. Even in the dimness, there's no mistaking that hunter's glint in his eyes. "Hello, sweetheart," he says, a wicked grin on his lips. "Miss me?"
He's devouring your mouth before you can respond, head spinning while he takes over your senses. His thrust scrambles what few thoughts you had left, eyes rolling into your head with a loud moan swallowed by him. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, and he groans into your mouth. Your mind tumbles again.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Murdock pants against your lips, watching your unfocused expression as he resumes pounding into you. All you can manage is a long whine. “How much more, hm? How much more can you take while I show you just how much I missed you?”
You don’t know. You can’t even think enough to be able to consider how much more.
"You can run, but you can't hide. Not from me; never from me... But of course you know that, Kitten. You know that all. Too. Well. Yet you still insist on trying and testing how long you can last... Luckily, conquering you is no less sweet. Good luck, Pet. You're going to need it."
You didn't understand at first why your vampire f/o had a mirror above his bed. Isn't it a bit depressing to wake up, or even just lay in bed, look up, and see nothing there? You dismissed it, then, your trips into his inner sanctum few and far between, initially. It wasn't until the first time that he took you to bed that you understood.
Head thrown back, gasping in pleasure, you happen to look directly up, eyes focusing on the reflection. The disconnect between the man you see above you versus what you don't above him is a little head spinning, but soon, your gaze slides. Your breathing hitches, watching yourself seemingly clench around nothing. His next thrust startles you out of your reverie with a moan from you, pulled from you at a volume that has your cheeks flush. They grow warmer upon realizing he's been studying your reaction, a mischievous glint in his hungry eyes.
“Like what you see?” he purrs, and he doesn't give much time for a response before kissing you deeply, fiercely, like he doesn't want you to get away.
of COURSE i want a big sopping wet man coming after me
Oh? Well then…
~~~
You're not sure how Murdock managed to invite himself on your vacation…again. This time, at least, you got a few days to yourself before he pulled up to the house you rented for the week and made himself at home. It's actually a bit embarrassing how easily he can get you to let him stay without you realizing it until it's technically too late. And by that point, you don't want to tell him to leave.
You're not sure what the reason was for you coming out here anymore: was it your job? Or his intensity? Either way, you're stressed, and you needed this. Hence why him staying for the remainder of your time was more than a bit annoying. And for that, he needs consequences, but what, exactly? It's not like you can enact revenge on a man who can very much retaliate and have you at his mercy ten times easier than you could ever do to him. Not that the retaliation would be bad, absolutely not, but you're not looking to be pinned down straight away. So for that, you need a good idea. Or at least, a decent enough one.
You find yourself wandering to the pool out back, an in-ground one, surrounded by bushes and a tall fence. You don't have any pool so easily accessible at home, so it's been a nice luxury. Some leaf litter has gathered on the surface of the water, and you locate the pool skimmer to collect them without getting your hands wet. If you don’t, there’s a chance it could build up and fall to the floor of the pool.
Your mind starts to wander, then, thinking about what else could potentially get into a pool: debris, animals… As you go to fling the leaves from the net into the bushes, you spot a towel that you forgot to put back last night after you spent most of the evening trying to ignore Murdock by swimming in the pool. He made that rather difficult for you. (He always does.) Hence, it’s hard to think about such trivial things as “towels.” It’s a dark color, which could easily be mistaken for an animal of some sort even in daylight, if you look too quickly.
That’s when your idea forms. What if there was an animal in the pool? What if you got him to investigate? And then when he gets to the pool… Glancing back at the house, you bring the towel to the deep end, skimmer net in your other hand. You set down the net, then bundle up the fabric and press it into the water, letting it get soaked before using the handle of the net to push it down. It’s not actually long enough, but you still manage to watch the towel sink to the bottom. You replace the net in its home and dry your hands on the sides of your shorts.
Frankly, you didn’t consider what you were actually going to say. You wish you could admit that you thought this through a bit more, but the idea is just too amusing. Making sure to put as much concern into your voice as you can, you call out, “Hey Murdock? Can you come here?” There's a good thirty seconds of silence, and while he's surely already on his way, you call again, “I think there's something in the pool.”
“I'm coming,” Murdock grunts, rounding the corner in a sleeveless mock turtleneck and his usual black jeans: the perfect clothing for your plan (and for you to check him out, but that's a given and beside the point). “You said there's something in the pool?”
You nod. “I didn't investigate yet. I didn’t want to get too close and have it bite me or something.”
He tries looking in the shallow end. “I don’t see anything.”
You point at the “animal” at the other side. “It’s over there. I saw it when I got debris out of the pool, and I didn’t want to do anything without you here.”
It’s subtle, but Murdock’s chest puffs up a little when you say that—and you did say that completely on purpose, just for that reason. Pride cometh before the fall, after all. “Let me look,” he says.
With practiced, measured steps, he walks forward, with you following close behind. His hand is outstretched on instinct, despite being empty. Murdock typically has a keen eye, but he doesn't seem to notice anything amiss about the lump in pool that he vocalizes. You hope it remains convincing when he gets closer. Your heart is beating loudly in your chest, your chances of pulling this off teetering with every step he takes. The gap closes, slowly but surely, until he's nearly reached the side of the pool. That's when he stops.
You frown behind him. That won't do. “You're gonna stop there? You've gotta get a little closer.”
He turns and gives you a look. “But you hadn't gotten any closer.”
“I hadn't because I was scared. But you can.” You more or less bat your eyelashes at him. “Please?”
He huffs quietly. “Alright.” Murdock moves closer, and you encourage him up a little more, so now his feet hang slightly over the edge of the wall. He's even leaning over a little to get a better view. You only have a split second to act before he realizes that you’ve tricked him, and only a second longer than that before he potentially puts together your little prank.
Men do not have an “even” center of gravity, located more in the chest, causing them to be more “top heavy.” Murdock is no exception. All it takes is one good push to send him tumbling into the pool, grunting in surprise, and you book it to the adjacent side towards the shallow end, giggling. Murdock splashes around, but it doesn't take long for him to get his bearings and his feet under him; and for as tall as he is, his head easily pokes out of the water just enough for him to breathe comfortably. The man glares at you, and the annoyance on his face has you stifling your laughter. You fail pretty easily, emboldened by him being stuck in the pool.
“You think that's funny, huh?”
There's genuine annoyance in his voice, but also that tinge of danger that tends to make itself known when he speaks low like this. You know it doesn't mean anything when he's talking to you, but there's an instinctual part of yourself that still goes mildly on alert every time. While normally you'd wonder what he's thinking, right now you're just pleased as punch that this worked, looking like a cat who got the cream. “Mmm, maybe just a little bit.” You bring your index finger and thumb close to each other when you say that, as if indicating the amount.
Murdock doesn't take his eyes off of you, pulling himself out of the pool using the edge almost a little too effortlessly. The intensity that rarely leaves him has you squirming on the inside, but outwardly, you continue smiling innocently. He doesn’t say anything for a while, water dripping loudly off of him, his shirt clinging to his muscles. You’re trying not to stare. “You think you’re clever, hm?”
You’re not fully sure that it’s just annoyance in his expression anymore. You pretend you don’t notice. “Well, yes, since I managed to get the jump on you.”
Now you wish you know what he was thinking as his eyes narrow slightly. Despite being somewhat far from him, his demeanor and his energy makes it feel like he’s right in your space. “And what do I do with you?”
Your grin widens, seeing an opportunity, and you utter those magic words: “You'll have to catch me first.”
In an instant, his expression darkens, a primal intent crossing his features, and you relish the way your stomach twists and your heart races suddenly as a familiar feeling makes itself known below. Murdock growls. “You have fifteen seconds.”
He's barely finished speaking and you're already running, taking off down the side of the house. You know exactly how this is going to end, and as much as you'll do your best to prolong it, you also can't wait.
~~~
.....this mayyy have gotten away from me lol. 1384 words, in case you were wondering, and I didn't even write anything smutty ahdjdbd
Share the last song you listened to and do this picrew! Thank you for tagging me @skijjiki, this was so fun to complete!
I'm tagging @evanox @ratatoskrr @opalescent-apples @ashi-cookie and @makemeaplant!
and now i tag @purple-tumbld @microraptorreactor @srubabu @hazardperceptiontest @awesomebookwormuniverse @i-just-wanna-evaporate as well as anyone else who wants to do this o7
the song’s been on repeat for days ty to my uncle for introducing me. does the peace sign guy in the cover art look a bit like tobey maguire or is that just me.
i tag: @subtleshenanigans @the-amber-shadow @the-chaotic-anon and anyone else who wants to play! :)
As I have no other mutuals, I’m tagging @tkatsuro who is a pillar of the SG1 art community 🙌🏻 (you don’t have to reblog if you don’t want to! But to everyone else, you should check them out!).
Mini shout out to the songs “Again” by Still Woozy and “Empire Ants” by Gorillaz and Little Dragon cause they are on repeat in my brain and are what I last listened to in spirit.
THANK YOU FOR TAGGING AND YOU KIND WORDS WHAT😭❤️
I also listened to "Nesvarbu" by Alina Orlova rn ! and Umbrella Beach by Owl city
I dont have much people to tag /or if someone sees this im tagging you all! haha /nf
Tagging: @peapeapeapa @dzzmnds @empty-robot
Not even kidding, today's the first time I've heard the album version of Truce in probably 6 or 7 years (Tyler played it as part of the Vessel 10th anniversary stream but changed it a little so I'm not counting that)
Now for the fun part lol @purplefyragon @captainsuiko @sammys-magical-au @echo-echo31 iiiii think I'll stop there. No obligation, 'n' whoever else wants to is free to hop on and do this!
@detritiviolet @carawith17as @archaicfirehydrants honestly i always forget the people im mutuals with, and nothings stopping random people from joining in
The eternal struggle of the brown being wrong and black being too dark, rip. At least the long hair option is pretty darn long and the skin tone isn't too bad (could still be better though). Also how dare they make me choose between butterflies and hearts smh
@purplefyragon ur up nerd :P dunno if anyone else has tagged you already (and I wasn't sure which blog to tag) lol
Also @fandergal0583 @demisexual-clown @sammys-magical-au @starchaser-the-prophet cuz you guys were the first ones in my notes that hadn't gotten tagged and I wasn't sure who else to tag from there 😅 Whoever else wants to do it can too, I'm bad at tagging and worse at it on this blog dbdjdj
