#murderplier & reader
Text
Lurking in the Shadows - Murdock x GN!Reader 1/?
Rating: NSFW
Word count: 2700+
Contents: dubcon, predator/pray, chasing, brief mentions of knife and blood, oral (m receiving), boot kink, semi-public sex, degradation, namecalling (whore), petnames (puppy, toy, little prey), no pronouns or body parts used for reader
AN: So like I can explain I swear I uh...yeah no I have no idea where this came from
MASTERLIST - AO3 - PART TWO (COMING SOON)
You can admit that walking home by yourself was a bad idea - not only because it’s past midnight and pitch black out, but also because it’s fucking cold. You weren’t even supposed to work tonight, but your coworker had called you last minute saying her car had a dead battery and if she missed another shift without getting a cover she was going to get fired.
You had wanted to spend your day off catching up on some reading but she’s the only coworker you actually like and if she gets fired then your days at work are going to get even worse than they already are so you sighed and agreed, getting yourself to look as presentable as possible with what little time you had.
Just a few more months, you think as you continue to walk, wrapping your arms around yourself, a few more months and you can quit this stupid job and move away from this ugly city, settle down somewhere more quiet, and maybe find a job you’ll actually like for a change. You doubt that last part, given your bad history with employment, but you’re desperately hoping a change of scenery will help turn things around.
You’re not sure how long it takes for you to notice. With how dark it is, you almost don’t catch the flash of something red from the corner of your eye. You stiffen up, sucking in a breath and squaring your shoulders.
Maybe it was just a sign or a piece of trash blowing in the wind. Except it’s not windy right now. Fuck.
Picking up your pace just slightly, you decide to chance a glance over your shoulder and yeah there’s definitely someone following you. You think it’s a man, a big man.
You pull your phone out and your stomach lurches when you see nothing but a black screen staring back at you. Right, that was why you had to walk back home in the first place. You’d left your phone charger at home in your rush to get to work so you couldn’t call for a taxi.
This is fine. It’s almost one in the morning and you’re walking the streets of a big city completely alone and unarmed. And there’s a man following you. Yep, definitely fine.
Your eyes dart around, searching for any store fronts that look like they could still be open or even just another person crazy enough to walk the streets this late. Your pursuer seems to have realized that no one else is around, because when you peek over your shoulder again he’s following you out in the open. You can barely see him through the darkness, but you see a shred of light glint off of something in his hand and oh god that’s a knife. He’s got a knife.
Heart skipping a beat, you lurch forward into a run and, sure enough, you can hear the man’s footsteps grow louder and faster. You’re full on panicking now, air punching in and out of your lungs as you run like your life depends on it. Which you think it might, you’re still holding out hope that this is all a big misunderstanding and you’re going to make it home safe and sound.
In a split second decision, you turn the next corner you come across and dip into an alley on the other side of the street before the man turns the corner. You tuck yourself up against the wall, sucking in a deep breath and biting your lip as you wait.
And wait.
And wait.
You’re not sure how long you stand there, eyes glued, unblinking, to the entrance of the alleyway and lungs aching for anything more than a shallow breath. The night is quiet, save for your heart pounding in your ears and your soft exhales. No footsteps. No sign of the man.
You crouch down and pick up a rock before inching closer to the entrance of the alleyway, peering your head around the corner and scanning the darkness for that flash of red.
But there’s nothing.
No footsteps, no breathing, no giant man storming towards you.
Did you really lose him?
Before you get even a moment to celebrate, there’s a gloved hand over your mouth and the sting of cold metal at your neck. You’re pulled backwards into the alleyway and up against a warm, very solid body.
The man behind you lets out a dark chuckle and you attribute your heart skipping a beat to the way he presses the knife just slightly into your skin.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve had a good chase,” he says softly, lips brushing your ear, “I’d almost forgotten how fun it is.”
You reach up and claw at the hand over your mouth, lowering it enough to bite down on the side of his palm. The man behind you grunts and lets go of your face, giving you a moment to think you’ve won before he gets a fistful of your hair and yanks your head back.
You cry out into the night air and tears sting at the corners of your eyes as the blade of his knife digs into your skin, drawing just a hint of blood.
“What are you going to do to me?”
He practically purrs, nosing along the column of your throat. “That is the question, isn’t it? So many ideas, so little time.”
Struggling hopelessly against his grip on your hair, you cry out. “Help! Someone!”
The man leers behind you. “Is that it? Your life's on the line and that’s the best you can do? Try again and I want you to give it your all this time, like you really mean it.”
“Help!” You scream, your voice ripping against the inside of your throat, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. “Someone help me!”
“Ah, that was better, but do you hear that?”
He pauses and you listen to the noises around you. The night is still quiet, a light breeze has picked up and chilled the air but there’s no other noise besides your labored breaths. Your shoulders droop and you squeeze your eyes shut, letting out a soft, broken sob.
“That’s right,” the stranger practically sings in your ear, “no is around to hear you. No one is coming to your rescue, so I suggest you behave. I’d hate to give up the fun so early, but I won’t hesitate to slit this delicious neck of yours.”
Hot breath fans against your skin followed by a broad tongue licking a stripe up the side of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.
“Are-Are you going to kill me?”
“Hmm, honestly I haven’t decided yet.”
“What do you want from me?”
Your assailant shoves you forward with a hand on the back of your neck, pushing you up against the brick wall. With his knife no longer at your throat, you have a moment to relax before he’s pressing himself up against you, his chest at your back just as firm and unyielding as the wall in front of you and oh. There’s something big and hard pressing against your ass. You gasp, unconsciously pushing your hips back against him, and the man chuckles darkly.
“What I want is for you to get down on your knees and open that pretty mouth so I can fuck your face. And if you do a good enough job, I might think about letting you go. How does that sound, little prey?”
“I-what?”
He rocks forward, groaning in your ear . “Go on, you don’t want to see me when I get inpatient.”
The man takes a step back and you turn around, taking him in for the first time. He’s huge, easily a foot taller than you and nearly twice as broad. Long, dark hair pulled back into a messy knot at the back of his head, a pair of black sunglasses hiding his eyes and a wide grin bearing sharp canines bordering on inhuman. Your eyes are drawn lower, however, to where his cock is straining against the confines of his dark jeans.
“I’m waiting.”
Your head snaps up and you’re met with deep, brown eyes watching you with a predator’s gaze over the rim of his glasses. Taking a deep breath, you drop to your knees in front of him, looking up at him with what you hope is a neutral expression, not wanting to let on how hot this situation is getting you despite the circumstances.
Turning your attention to the task at hand, you undo his belt with shaky hands. However, when you reach for his zipper, he grabs your wrists in his gloved hand.
“With your teeth.”
A shudder racks your body and you fight back a whimper, leaning forward and taking the zipper between your teeth. You can feel the heat of him against your cheek as you get the zipper down, taking your time, trying to delay the inevitable.
“So obedient.” He teases, taking his cock out and giving it a few languid strokes. “Maybe there’s hope for you yet.”
His words are the last thing on your mind as a glint of metal catches your eye. Four silver barbells decorate the underside of his, frankly, enormous cock. Your mouth waters at the sight of a bead of precum dripping from his slit and you can’t help but wonder what the metal of his piercings will feel like against your tongue.
He snickers. “First time blowing someone with piercings? No need to be intimidated, little thing, they make everything better. I’d be more than happy to show you once we’re done here.”
You scowl up at him, trying to put as much venom in your voice as you can. “Just get this fucking over with, you freak.”
“Oh, so the little puppy can bark, huh? I like that, makes it so much more fun to break you.”
Your response dies in your throat as he shoves the first few inches of his cock into your mouth. The musky taste of his cock mixed with the tang of his precum makes you moan despite yourself, and he moans as well, getting a hand in your hair and forcing more of himself into your mouth.
“Fuck, your mouth feels like heaven. Go on, take it all, swallow it down, I know you can.”
Tears sting at your eyes as he slides in fully, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat and slipping further down. You do your best to relax your throat, taking deep breaths through your nose and grabbing onto his meaty thighs to steady yourself.
“That’s it, taking me like a fucking champ. You’ve done this before, haven’t you? Sweet, little whore.”
His hips pull back slowly and you revel in the feeling of his piercings dragging against your tongue. He pulls out until only the tip is in your mouth and you take the opportunity to lave your tongue over it, sucking and hollowing your cheeks before he’s thrusting back in. This time he doesn’t stay still, starting a steady pace sliding in and out of your mouth. One particularly harsh thrust catches you off guard and you choke, throat spasming around his cock and tears rolling down your cheeks.
He sighs happily, grabbing your head with both hands and holding you down against him, your nose pressed against his pubic bone. You gag around him but he doesn’t let you up, instead grinding against your face and relishing in the way you gasp for breath around his cock.
“Fucking take it,” he sneers, digging his nails into your scalp. “This is what you were fucking made for, choking on my cock like a greedy, little pet. This is making you hot, isn’t it? I bet if I reached down between your legs I’d feel how excited you are, wouldn’t I?”
You shake your head furiously but you both know you’re lying. You’re aching, thrusting your hips helplessly.
“Go on, puppy.” He moves his foot forward, pressing his leather boot between your legs. “Grind on my boot, show me how horny you are, being face fucked, at the mercy of a complete stranger.”
Shame burns inside you but it only makes you hotter, makes the ache between your legs stronger. You grind down against the toe of his boot, angling your hips just right to send pleasure shooting up your spine. You moan around his cock, the vibrations making him moan in turn.
The stranger picks up his pace, fucking your face in earnest, grunting and growling with every thrust. You can tell he’s getting close by the way his thighs are tensing between your hands and you’re not far behind, adrenaline pushing you rapidly towards climax. You peer up at him with wide, watery eyes, increasing your thrusts against his boot.
“Oh, isn’t that sweet? You want permission - fuck - to cum? Do you think you’ve earned it? Do you think you’ve been good? Maybe I should cum down your throat and leave you here for someone else to find and fuck, maybe you’d like that. You clearly don’t have problems fucking a stranger, and one that threatened to kill you no less.”
You whine, squeezing your eyes shut in a half-hearted effort to hold back the tears caused by his words. Shame is burning inside you, white hot and so, so fucking good. The man above you wipes away a few of your tears, bringing his fingers to his mouth to lick them off with a long groan.
“I’m so close now, just a little more. I want you to cum, little toy. Now.”
The hard tug he gives to your hair is all it takes to send you careening over the edge, spasming and rutting your hips helplessly as you cum, making a mess of your jeans. He moans obscenely and cums with a shout. You expect him to press fully into your mouth, but instead he pulls out and strokes his cock furiously, painting your face with splatters of hot cum.
You groan in protest, wiping your eyes and scowling up at him. “You could’ve warned me.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” He smirks, tucking himself back into his pants and squatting down in front of you.
The man swipes two fingers through the mess on your face and presses them against your lips. You drop your eyes to the ground but take them into your mouth, licking the cum off his leather clad fingers.
“This was quite the treat, I must say, more fun than I’ve had in a long time. I’d love to keep you.”
His words have fear shooting like ice through your veins and you shoot up, backing away from him slowly.
“You said you’d let me go if I did what you wanted.”
“You’re right, I did. ” He stalks forward, crowding you up against the brick wall, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “But I’ve given you no reason to trust me.”
You shove him with as much strength as you can but he doesn’t even move an inch. “I’d rather you fucking kill me.”
“Mm, there’s that bark I like so much, but we both know you don’t have the bite to back it up, do you?”
“Fuck you.”
“Next time.”
“Next time?”
“I’ll keep my word, I’m going to let you go, but we’ll see each other again; I’ve taken a liking to you, little prey. But-” You blink and the knife is back at your throat. “If you tell anyone about me, if you go to the police, I will find you and I will make you wish I’d killed you tonight. Do you understand?”
You nod with wide eyes, pressing yourself back against the wall as much as you can.
“Good.” He steps away, slipping the knife back into its holster at his thigh and smiling mischievously at you.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“Call me Murdock.”
You roll your eyes. “Murdock? Seriously? You come up with that yourself?”
“Such a smart mouth for someone who was choking on my cock not even ten minutes ago.” The man gives you a Cheshire smile. “Now I think it’s time you hurry home. It is late after all and you don’t know what kind of shifty characters could be lurking in the shadows waiting to strike.”
#murderplier x reader#murdock killinheim x reader#murderplier x reader smut#murdock killinheim x reader smut#nsft#gn!reader#smooth criminal#west writes#tw dubcon#tw knife#tw blood
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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.
But you’re certainly about to find out.
#lemon#x reader#Murdock x reader#minors dni#gender neutral reader#afab reader#gn reader#cw knife#a year in the making folks#happy halloween~~#murderplier x reader
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Markiplier Egos with an Asexual DA / Viewer
a/n: I decided to write this specifically as you coming out to them after you've already been dating for a while so it'd be different enough from the Aro hcs thing I already did. We cool with that? Alright.
WILFORD WARFSTACHE
Like I've already said, he doesn't care what your sexuality/gender is, he's immediately accepting of you and your identity.
That really doesn't change if you're dating.
Boundaries can take a lot of getting used to for him; he's a very physically affectionate kind of person.
He tries his best tho and always apologizes if he realizes he's touching you in a way that you've said makes you uncomfortable.
There's really not much else to it, things just continue as normal.
DARKIPLIER
Doesn't care. (supportive)
It really doesn't affect your relationship at all.
He doesn't usually like people touching him apart from specific circumstances with those he trusts, so boundaries aren't really an issue.
Again, not much left to say.
GOOGLEPLIER
He'd probably recite the definition of asexual except it's like the one for reproduction.
He's not being a dick for once though, he's just genuinely confused.
After explaining it to him, he finds the right definition and is kinda just like: "...Oh yeah, me too."
BINGIPLIER
"...Like a plant?"
Yeah, he doesn't get it at first either.
"Ooohhhhh! Same, brah. Same."
ACTOR
I can't not see him as a little aphobic before the events of wkm, but considering he's now lived for over like a hundred years or something, he outta be a little less ignorant now.
I mean, he might not fully get it at first still, but he'd try his best to for you.
He'd never force you into something you're uncomfortable with like that anyway. If you really don't wanna have sex, he's not gonna throw a hissy fit over it. (even tho that does feel like a very actor mark thing to do)
Just remember to assure him that it has nothing to do with him specifically or it's gonna make him insecure. He's a narcissist, the love of his life not finding him attractive is gonna make an impact.
Very respectful about your boundaries despite being a touchy kinda person. If you're not okay with certain kinds of touches, just let him know.
Overall, it might take a bit for him to adapt, but his effort is at least endearing.
YANCY
As previously mentioned, he'll most likely already be familiar with it due to his very inclusive friend group.
He's at least knowledgeable enough to know that asexuality is a spectrum, so he'd probably ask you to explain what flavor of it you happen to be.
Very supportive!
He's never really felt like he needs sex in a relationship anyway.
He's honestly just happy you gave him enough of a shot to wanna be friends let alone date him.
Would stab an aphobe for you<3
ILLINOIS
Honestly surprised at first, he had no idea that was even a thing.
He's totally okay with it of course! He just didn't know you could have a relationship where sex isn't like...mandatory.
Similarly relieved as I've described before when you explain it to him. It's a welcomed change to be sure.
He'll hold back on flirtatious comments if they make you uncomfortable.
Tries his best to respect your boundaries. He feels lonely if you don't cuddle him at night tho.
Sexual intimacy has become something he dreads with meaningful relationships. He likes getting to focus more of his time on you as a person, making sure you feel loved, and just treasuring your time together.
Overall really supportive.
HEAD ENGINEER
A little awkward around the topic of sex I imagine.
Mostly cus you're still the captain so power dynamics and all that.
You're already risking a lot just by being together romantically, that kind of workplace relationship could definitely get you both in some hot water. No matter how temptingly scandalous it can seem.
This was basically the stuff that first came to mind once you told him and he almost felt relieved because of it. I mean, that's certainly a headache you shouldn't have to risk dealing with now.
Outside of logistic nonsense, he's very supportive all around.
Like I've said, he can sometimes overcompensate when it comes to boundaries, so assurance helps if that's not something that bothers you.
He came up with this like dorky way of quantifying things where basically he says any energy he'd put into sex he instead puts into cuddling you twice as much and- just- yeah-
MURDOCK
Very calm and reassuring if he sees you were anxious while telling him.
Even if you weren't he's pretty chill about it.
Every action of his is typically very calculated no matter the situation, even if in more of a purposely sporadic kind of way. So needless to say, he's pretty good about boundaries.
I mean, if you're in the middle of making a quick get away and end up having to get uncomfortably close to hide or something, that can't really be helped, but yk. (he'd make it up to you later anyway, probably something dinner related)
#markiplier egos x reader#wilford warfstache x reader#darkiplier x reader#googleplier x reader#bingiplier x reader#actor mark x reader#yancy x reader#ahwm yancy x reader#illinois x reader#ahwm illinois x reader#head engineer mark x reader#space mark x reader#murderplier x reader#iswm murderplier x reader#iswm murdock x reader#asexual reader#asexuality#asexual
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Murderplier x GN!Reader (writing practice)
Content warnings: implied domestic abuse (not involving Murdock), off screen death (only of minor character/readers abusive bf)
You were standing in the door frame to your dining room. A room you really used and the only purpose was to collect dust. But not today.
What you saw in front of you might have also been a scene from American Psycho. The walls, the floor, the table...EVERYTHING was covered in plastic sheets. On top of your very nice and big dining table was your boyfriend tied up and gagged.
Next to him stood a man you didn't know. He was dressed in all black except for a wine-red turtleneck. But three things jumped out the most. He was wearing sunglasses inside in the middle of the night which was a weird fashion choice but you saw worse. He was holding a hunting knife very close to your tied-up boyfriend. And despite the big round sunglasses, you could see the utter surprise and disbelief on this man's face.
In his defense, your face mirrored the exact same feelings.
You didn't know what to do. From the context clues you gathered to came to the conclusion that this man was most definitely a murderer and your boyfriend his next victim. Should you run and scream for help? The front door was close and you might be able to reach it in time. Should you try and help your boyfriend? No chance. The man was too close and you would feel the knife before you could even touch your boyfriend.
Your brain was working through all the possible ways you could die or survive. Then you saw it. The look on your boyfriend's face. It took you a while to interpret it because you never saw it or something similar on his face ever before. You only ever saw it full of anger and disgust but now it was pleading and filled with fear. A face you usually made every time you made a minor mistake in front of him.
Something changed. Your brain stopped planning and your eyes just wandered through the room until you saw a silver rectangle sitting on a small side table that wasn't covered by a plastic sheet. Your laptop.
You walked towards it, grabbed it from the table, and walked out of the room. Then you walked past the man you murmured something along the lines of "I just needed my laptop" and "I'm so sorry".
You pressed the laptop to your chest and just walked towards your room. From the dining room, you could hear a faint "What did you do to that poor thing?" followed by muffled screams.
From your room, you couldn't hear a thing but you still turned up the music a bit more louder than usual just to be safe.
Somehow you managed to forget the 'little accident' and get lost in your work. The music helped you forget but it also led to you not hearing the opening of the door or the footsteps slowly approaching you. The feeling of a hand grabbing your shoulder made you jump and look up. Mister Murderer was standing right next to you and you froze.
He on the other hand just squeezed your shoulder lightly and gave you a warm smile. "It's getting late. You should go to bed."
His voice was soft and it made you feel warm inside. You liked it. IT was so much nicer than your boyfriend's voice.
You nodded and saved your document before you turned off your laptop and walked over to your bed. You didn't bother to change into your usual sleeping attire. You just laid down under the cover and made yourself comfortable. He tucked you in and gave you a pat on the head before he walked back to the door.
"Good night~," he said before turning off the light and closing the door.
#fanfiction#ghost writing#murderplier#reader#x reader#murderplier x reader#honoring my roots as a former creepypasta kid with this one#in space with markiplier#iswm murdock#iswm murderplier
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Welcome Home
MINORS DNI!!! This from an au I've been skrunkling on for the like the last week. All you need to know for this specific fic is that you are high up in some company and rich, Yancy is your sugar baby, and sometimes you bring in Murdock for some extra fun. Yancy x Murdock x amab reader
Wordcount: 1.7k+
Tags/warnings: dom/sub dynamics, dom reader, use of sir, begging, crying, degradation, praise, oral, anal, slight dumbification
Before you left for your week long work trip, you had said to Murdock and Yancy that they were free to have any fun they'd like, within the usual rules of course.
So coming home to a quiet house, or at least quiet in the way that Yancy doesn't greet you at the door like he often does.
Because you can hear something coming from upstairs.
Quick to get your shoes and jacket off, you follow the noise to your bedroom, where upon opening the door you are met with the rather lovely sight of Yancy on his hands and knees on your bed, Murdock pounding into him from behind.
You realize tears are streaming down Yancy's face, hiccups and whines mixing with moans. As soon as he spots you, one arm tries to reach out, but has to quickly be slammed back down so he doesn't lose his balance and faceplant into the mattress.
"Sir, sir, siiirrrrr, pleaseeeeee!"
"Welcome home, we were just having some fun." Murdock speaks as you spot the cockring around Yancy's cock.
"Baby boy, how long and how much?" Yancy can't seem to answer. You look to his hands for any sort of signal for a pause or a stop, but his hands are curled into the sheets hard enough that his knuckles are turning white, and his moans blends in with his cries.
You chuckle, taking a seat on the small couch you had brought into your room just for a scenario like this. Sitting down, you lean back, content to watch Murdock finish up
"Don't let me interrupt. Put on a good show for me, won't you, baby boy?"
Murdock grins, pinching a nipple, making Yancy shiver and whimper. He rocks back into Murdock, tears streaming down his face as he does so.
He tries to put his head and upper body down so he can muffle his noises, but Murdock is having none of it, pulling him up by his hair so Yancy’s back is pressed against his chest.
“Oh no, none of that baby boy. No hiding when you’re supposed to provide entertainment.” Yancy whimpering as Murdock fucks into him, arm across his chest and hand on his hip keeping him in place.
Looking at you when he manages to keep his eyes open, pleading for you to do something.
But you don’t, just lazily touching yourself over your pants, and watching your baby boy getting fucked within an inch of his life, just as he deserves.
This goes on for a while.
You just watch as Murdock keeps your baby boy an absolute mess.
He's leaking, blubbering, holding onto Murdock's arm around his chest for dear life as Murdock kisses over his shoulder and neck. He's murmuring absolute filth into Yancy's skin, sometimes making eye contact with you as he does so.
At one point he lets his teeth drag over skin, making Yancy shudder oh so sweetly. You send him a warning glare, Murdock grinning back at you.
"How much trouble would I be in if I marked up this pretty little patch of skin?" A finger strokes over a spot just beneath Yancy's jaw.
"A lot."
"I thought you said I could have any fun I'd like." Murdock kisses the spot, which earns a whimper from Yancy, not only because of the kiss, but also because Murdock has stopped fucking him, just staying inside of Yancy, keeping his cock warm.
"I said that both of you could, but that is one of the few rules I have for you both, and it shouldn't be broken."
"He would look rather stunning with some marks all over his pretty neck, no?"
"He would, but he's not getting them from you. Unless you'd like to be punished?"
"Not tonight, I would prefer to walk out of here." He sends a glare at you, but you can see the heat hidden underneath.
Neither of you say anything for a few moments, then Murdock sighs, pulling out of Yancy, which causes him to whimper. Murdock shushes him, leading him by the hair over to you. He pushes Yancy down to straddle your lap, then sinks back inside of him.
"If I can't make marks, at least our sweet little toy can get that little visual upgrade from you." A beat, a grin. "Sir." Yancy's breath hitches as Murdock starts fucking him again, albeit slower this time.
You start to kiss over his throat and shoulders, gently tilting his head back at first, touch fleeting and light.
But that doesn't last long, the temptation of Yancy and the noises you know he can make are too strong, and as soon as you bite down, both of them groan in unison.
"Do that again, he got so fucking tight and perfect around my cock." It's not often you take orders from Murdock, but this time you are on the same wavelength. So you bite down again, and again that wonderful mix of noise from them both.
For every bite and every hickey you make, Yancy groans, moans, or cries, his voice begging you even though he doesn't utter a single word, too gone for it. Murdock keeps talking to him, switching between degradation and praise, often mixing the two.
"Such a perfect whore aren't you? So open for anyone your Sir tells you to fuck. So willing to just be used and abused, fucked like the little toy you are."
"You just need your Sir's teeth on you to cum, don't you? Such a sweet, but oh so sick, little thing."
"Made to be ruined, that is what you are, made to be filled with cocks and cum."
"Pleaseeeee" It's the first word Yancy has uttered since he begged you to cum when you came home, so you take pity on your baby boy.
Giving no warning to either of them, you reach down, slipping the cockring off Yancy. He doesn't even have time to say anything before he spills all over your hand and the front of your pants.
Murdock grunts, and while Yancy shakes apart around him, he gets a few more pumps in before he spills himself inside of Yancy.
"Such a good baby boy." You whisper into his ear, catching his lips in a gentle kiss.
"Want youse….." Yancy slurs out, Murdock laughs behind him, but you ignore that in favor of sending a fond smile Yancy's way.
"You can get me wherever you want baby, as your reward." Yancy blinks slowly, nods, gasping as Murdock pulls out. "Where do you want me baby?"
"Mouth….." Another slow blink, before he maneuvers himself off your lap and down on his knees. Murdock sits down next to you, throwing an arm over your shoulder, watching as Yancy nuzzles your cock through your pants.
"What a lovely sight." He reaches down, unzipping your pants for Yancy, and helping him move your underwear out of the way so Yancy can get his mouth on your cock.
"You feeling in a- ah!" Your sentence is broken up as Yancy sinks his mouth down as far as he can go. "Love-y mood tonight?"
"Sometimes a reward is in order after all." Yancy swallows around your cock, making you look down at him.
He has his hands crossed behind his back, his gaze dazed, but at the same time filled with lust. You know what he wants now, but Murdock beats you to it, tangling a hand in his hair, and begins moving him up and down on your cock.
"What a lovely toy." He grins at you, and you huff, rolling your eyes as you tangle a hand in his hair instead, and drag him in for a kiss.
"And the love-y mood was gone." You speak against his lips, which gets a chuckle from Murdock before he kisses you. Yancy whines around your cock and it feels amazing.
You know you won't last long, not with the show they gave you, but you still savor in the feeling of a warm mouth moving up and down on your cock, and the slight stubble as you kiss Murdock.
It only takes a few minutes of two mouths on you for you to cum, spilling yourself into one as you moan against the other.
"Such a good Sir." Murdock whispers in your ear, biting your earlobe for the briefest of seconds. He's testing the limits, and you both know it. Though instead of challenging or calling him on it, you turn your focus to Yancy.
He has his eyes closed, head resting on your thigh, breathing heavy and a bit shaky. Reaching out, your gentle touch to his cheek makes him open his eyes. He opens his mouth next, showing how your cum is gone.
"Good boy." You gently urge him to get up, doing the same. You check him over as he sways lightly in your hold, and Murdock's as he gets up to, supporting Yancy with a hand on his back.
"You good baby?"
"Mhm, thank youse sir." You give him a quick kiss, holding his face. He leans into your touch, closing his eyes again and sighing, a sound you know means that you will need help to keep him from falling asleep until you have at least gotten him through the shower.
You glance at Murdock, who is watching the display with rapt attention. When you make eye-contact with him, you raise a brow, and he nods.
You both start to move Yancy in the direction of the bathroom, which makes Yancy let out a little noise if discontent, because it's the opposite direction of the bed.
"Shush baby boy, your sir and I just need to take care of you first, then you'll get to sleep as much as you'd like."
"And cuddles?" Yancy mumbles as you make it to the bathroom.
"And of course cuddles, in clean sheets even, since Murdock will change them." Murdock snorts, and you poke out your tongue at him. "Your turn, and besides, you started this."
"Technically you did, when you left for your work trip and said I could have some fun." Murdock lets go of Yancy for a few moments, getting the shower started.
"Again, I said both of you could have fun, an-"
"I had fun..." Yancy mutters as he bonks his head against your shoulder, before he is led inside the shower.
"I know baby." All three of you in the shower is luckily no problem anymore since you got the bathroom renovated.
"Of course you did, it was with me." You try to flick Murdock's side, but he easily avoids it, glaring at you with no heat. You roll your eyes then chuckle.
#yancy x reader#murdock x reader#murderplier x reader#yancy ahwm x reader#yancy fic#yancy fanfiction#murdock fic#murdock fanfiction#murderplier x reader smut#yancy smut#smut#lemon#murdock smut#my writing#yancy#ahwm yancy#yancy ahwm#murdock#readerinsert#reader insert#reader
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Any murdery ego with killer reader? An they kill peeps together sometimes. But then just cuddle sometimes.
"We're always running, question is from what?"
tysm for the ask luv/p
Another day, another successful kill.
You were currently resting on your and Murdock's shared bed. Usually, people resting in beds were asleep.
You were not.
Your brain instead was racing with thoughts. It was quite hard to make them out as they whizzed around in your head. something along the lines of cops and running and why swirled around reaching the deepest crevices of your thoughts before you heard a noise coming from behind you, effectively snapping you out of your trance.
Murdock stepped through the doorway, softly humming along to a joyful tune only he could hear. after a few moments, he noticed you curled up on the bed wide awake.
"Are you alright, Sweetheart?" he asked. He sounded almost, concerned? It was an odd but welcome change to his usual dark and murderous personality.
"Want cuddles." you muttered back in response without even turning to face him. There was the sound of footsteps behind you, before the bed dipped down and you felt two big arms wrap around you.
It's as if he knew what you were thinking about before he came in, because he whispered into your ear "it's alright darling. We'll be safe here There is nothing you need worry about."
You fell asleep that night to Murdock whispering softly into your ear and lightly kissing your neck.
#ghostly answers#ghostly moots#the beloved/p#ghostly writes#markiplier#markiplier egos#markiplier fandom#murdock iswm#murdock x reader#iswm#iswm part two#iswm fanfiction#in space with markiplier#markiplier fanfiction#markiplier egos x reader#murdock iswm x reader#murderplier#murderiplier#murderiplier x reader#murderplier x reader
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You creep down the hallway, towards the living room that ends it, clutching the large kitchen knife in your hand. You know the spots where it creaks well enough, and so you are reasonably confident you can get to the door and sneak out without alerting whoever’s here. You’re not sure when he got it; all you remember is hearing him not that long ago rummaging around through your belongings, followed by him treading down the hall. All you know is that you have to get out of here.
Your heart threatens to escape your ribs the closer you get, all senses on high alert. You’re almost to the living room when you spot him out of the corner of your eye: a man dressed in dark clothes, coat down to his knees, short dark hair. His back is to you, at the opposite side of the room. He seems to be busy with something. Maybe you have a shot.
Your foot slips a little too close to one of those damned floorboards, and you freeze stock-still, blood running cold. The man in the trenchcoat doesn’t turn around. You breathe a silent sigh of relief and move forward again.
You take your eye off of him for half a second. That’s all it takes.
“Well. What have we here?”
You whip around, backing up and leveling your knife at him. “I’m not afraid of you!” The words fall from your mouth before you think about it. Really, it’s as if you’re reassuring yourself.
He chuckles lowly, taking you in and how your knife, to your chagrin, trembles minutely. You get goosebumps from the way he looks you over; even though you can’t see his eyes from behind his glasses, the rest of his expression makes it obvious. “Oh, sweetheart,” he seems to purr, “that’s not how you handle a knife.”
You’re not sure how he can do it so quickly, but suddenly the knife is loosed from your hand and you find yourself against the wall with the blade millimeters away from your neck. You swallow involuntarily, and the metal presses into your skin, chilling you.
“This is.” He grins. It reminds you of a shark. “Best not move. Unless you want me to mar that pretty neck of yours.” You swear his eyes light up at the idea. “Make it look even prettier.”
You don’t speak. You can’t speak. All you can do is stare up at this man and hope you aren’t blatantly broadcasting your fear. Fear that he’s surely feeding off of.
The knife shifts against you subtly, and you barely keep yourself from flinching. “Aw, don’t be like that.” The man leans in, just enough to make you feel more trapped. “Everything will be just fine.”
You doubt that, but he’s not the one with a knife to his throat. Of course everything will be fine for him.
Will it actually end up fine for you?
#HUZZAH i've finally given this more of a conclusion so i can post it#i have something else i want to post but i didn't want duplicates quite yet#🔪#murdock x reader#murderplier x reader#tw knife#threat of injury#this man is a bit twisted don't mind him#or do cuz he's got a knife to ur throat but yknow#drabble#sab writes#iswm#murderplier#Markiplier egos
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Red
Characters: Murdock x GN!Reader
Word Count: 472
Spicy Rating: Fake blood!
You had just gotten a new gig for your special effects work. Someone wanted you to come do some fun, horror themed make-up for a weird holiday party, but the pay was good. It had been a while, and you needed to clean out your kit anyway, so while your boyfriend was out, you sat down in the living room and started going through it.
Most of it, thankfully, was fine. You were always super meticulous about cleaning things, so most of it was still fine, though a few smaller pieces would need to be replaced. That was easy enough.
The problem came when you went to check your bottle of faux blood. The dark bottle didn't really help in trying to figure out if it had dried out, and you weren't sure if this was the liquid one or the paste. So, without really thinking, you shook the bottle.
Hard.
That's how you discovered the cap was in fact, cracked, as fake blood shot up into the air, the whole bottle's worth drenching you head to toe in an instant. You blinked, slowly processing exactly what happened. It took a moment before you stood, trying really hard not to laugh or cry, before stepping out into the hall to go wash up before going to clean everything up.
Murdock has always had timing. Whether it was good or bad, as he stood there in the open doorway, was really a crapshoot. But you felt like you had been caught red-handed, no pun intended, as he slowly tilted his sunglasses down to take in the sight of you.
"I...can explain," you began slowly, to which he laughed, closing the door behind himself.
"Please, don't. My mind is coming up with too many delightful possibilities on its own."
You sighed, knowing exactly what he was thinking. "I was cleaning out my kit. I...I have to replace my fake blood." You sighed again, grimacing as you run a hand through your hair, soaking it further in. "I'm glad this shit doesn't stain at least. Means nothing will get ruined. But goddamn, I feel like I just did that scene from Carrie. Also don't look in the living room. It's uh. I haven't had a chance to clean it yet."
Despite your request, he did anyway. "...I'm impressed by the splatter on the ceiling."
"Oh fuck it's on the ceiling too?!" You pushed past him to look up, and sure enough. Some of it even had the audacity to drip down. The outline of where you had been sitting was pretty funny to see. You sigh, realizing just how long it's going to take you to wash all of this out of everything, when Murdock chuckles, planting a kiss right on your cheek, regardless of the makeup.
"At least red looks very good on you."
#stab happy#my writing#murdock iswm#murderplier#iswm murdock#murdock x reader#murdock x gn!reader#markiplier egos
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[[Murdock (Murderplier) x GN!Reader drabble (I know, shocking /s)]}
[[Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, minors DNI, mentions of murder, blood, predator/prey themes, general horror/romance, paranoia-inducing, use of “prize” and similar terms towards the reader, mentions of stalking, no direct smut but there’s talk of Murdock being aroused, this is not romanticizing yandere tropes]]
You were running through the forest, hopping over fallen branches and uneven piles of assorted moss and soggy leaves that littered the forest floor. The sound of somehow perfectly in-tune whistling echoed through the darkening forest, reminding you that your stalker wasn’t too far behind you.
“My prize, you know you can’t outrun me,” he called out, his suave voice cutting into your racing heart like the knife he held in his clutch when you first escaped him.
Like an idiot, you had decided to take a job out in the woods. There had been sightings of a mysterious figure, and somehow you’d assumed it was just another harmless spirit. Instead, it was the hideout of a mysterious serial killer, known as the Serotonin KIller, and he was now chasing after you in an attempt to make sure his secret didn’t get out.
You turned a corner, almost tripping on a rather large root that was sticking out of the ground as you pressed your back to the trunk of an evergreen pine tree. Your breathing was heavy, but you tried to keep quiet despite the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. The smell of pine needles overwhelmed your senses and hurt your lungs, and the cold air nipped at your skin relentlessly.
When you’d initially ran away from Murdock, he had grabbed your coat, and now you were shivering in the misty winter air. At the sound of a branch breaking behind you, you immediately turned to run, but you were instead faced with the sight of the one sight you were hoping to avoid.
“There you are, trophy,” Murdock purred, grabbing ahold of your forearm and yanking your body into his. He was uncharacteristically warm, practically radiating heat despite the coldness that was surely in his heart.
You tried to pull away from him, unable to hide the look of horror on your face as his gloved fingertips dug into your arm. “Get the fuck away from me,” you snapped, tugging with all your might and yelping as he shoved your front against the tree and pinned you there.
One of his hands gripped the back of your head, the other holding your wrists in place as the side of your face was pressed into the rough bark of the very same tree that you’d previously hoped would hide you from the murderer.
“Aw, what’s the matter?” His voice was lowered to a whisper, practically growling into your ear and causing a shudder to run down your spine. “Thought you could get away from someone who stalks people for a living? Please.”
“I was hoping to get away from a sick fucker who kills people out of cold blood,” you snapped back before letting out a groan, as he pressed your face harder against the tree trunk.
“Talking back to that ‘sick fucker’ is a bad idea, trophy,” he snapped. “You should mind your manners, really.”
His grip on your wrists tightened and you let out a cry of pain, causing him to laugh. “Oh come on, don’t be such a pussy,” he mocked.
You whimpered softly, tears stinging your eyes. “Please let me go,” you begged, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Oh? And risk you going to the police? Please. I’m not that stupid, trophy.”
Still, as you cried, his grip softened a bit. An idea popped into your head, and you hoped to god that this idea would actually save you and not make your last breath a moment of embarrassment.
“Please…” you whispered, pressing into his body sightly. “I’ll do anything.”
As you pressed against him, you couldn’t help but cherish the warmth radiating from his body. You felt him inhale sharply, as if he wasn’t expecting your touch, but he didn’t push you away. Good start to things.
“Anything?”
You nod, or- well, you try to nod. His hand had moved to grip your hair, and moving too much would cause a tug. Normally, that wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing, but this was not the time or place to think about your kinky escapades.
“Then get on your knees and beg for your life,” he states, letting go of your arms and stepping back. He keeps his fist clamped tightly around your hair, preventing you from running away as you’d planned.
Fuck. Time to play the long game.
He moves so that he is standing in front of you, and you reluctantly drop to your knees. Murdock keeps his fingers tangled in your hair and you’re forced to look up at him as you beg for your life. If this were any other situation, that would turn you on, but considering the fact that this was real and not a BDSM scene, well…
Your eyes dart away from his after a moment, trying to look anywhere else and- wait. No, that couldn’t be right. Maybe it was just a knife in his pocket.
“Please, please let me live. I’m so sorry for coming here, I didn’t… I wasn’t thinking. Please, if you let me live, I’ll give you anything you want. I’m so sorry, please,” you sobbed, hoping that leaning into the emotion would give you some pity points. Your eyes wandered again, and- oh, that definitely wasn’t a knife in his pocket.
Unless knives grew bigger the more someone begged.
“Eyes where I can see them, trophy,” he purred, snapping your attention back up to the cocky smirk on his face. He was getting off on this. “Get up.”
He tugged at your hair slightly, pulling a wince from your lips as you rose to your feet. You barely got a moment to wipe the tears from your face before Murdock shoved you against that tree again and pressed his body against yours.
“You did such a good job begging for me. You get a lot of practice?” Your heart was racing, and his clothed dick pressing against you. That warmth in your gut was a little conflicting, considering this guy was just trying to murder you, but luckily you were smart enough to ignore it.
As his face leans closer to yours, you take your opportunity and raise your hands, scratching at his face. Murdock cries out in pain, letting go of you and stumbling backward. You bolt off into the woods as fast as you can, the adrenaline caused by this situation only serving to make you more vigilant of your surroundings as you get the fuck away from Murdock.
He watches after you, and despite himself and the new scratches he had that caused the tiniest amount of blood to drip down his face…
He smiled.
Oh, he liked you.
…what fun.
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What You Need - Murdock x GN!Reader
Rating: NSFW
Word count: 1400+
Contents: predator/prey, very dubious consent, brief chloroform, bondage, clothed Murdock naked reader, no pronouns and no body parts used for reader, glove kink, thigh riding, daddy kink, use of petal, babydoll, and little thing
AN: This was inspired by an idea from the lovely @meloncalic. Also incredible that I wrote a Murdock fic without knife kink. I guess there's a first time for anything.
So yeah, I'm still alive and kicking. Spite is a powerful motivator >:)
MASTERLIST - AO3
You’re not sure how long you’ve been running, but you know you can’t stop, not if you want to survive the night. It’s unclear how you ended up here, what choice led you to this moment. You’re not even sure if the choices you’ve made mattered, or if you would’ve ended up here no matter what.
Perhaps you were trapped in his web the moment he laid eyes on you.
Now though, it doesn’t matter how you got here, just that you need to keep running.
Body aching, breath punching in and out of your lungs, you run and run, not sparing a glance behind you for fear of what you might see. He’d given you a head start - of course he had, he’s always been one for the chase - but you should’ve known the distance wouldn’t matter.
He’s always been one step ahead.
An arm shoots out through the darkness to your right and coils itself around your waist; the force of it knocking you off balance and sending you tumbling into what feels like a brick wall. There’s a dark, all too familiar, laugh and a cloth is pressed over your face.
You’re not sure how long you struggle before the world goes black, but you know it was useless from the start.
You wake to a chill in the air and a familiar cologne filling your nose. Murdock’s voice is a soft vibration against where your cheek is pressed into the crook of his neck; he’s humming some old, moony song you’ve heard him sing a million times before.
Something seems to key him into your return to wakefulness because a gloved hand comes up to rub over your back in soft circles. You’re allowed only a moment to savor the feeling before you jolt up in his lap, suddenly very aware of the fact that there’s nothing between the leather of his gloves and your skin.
You blink, eyelids heavy and head still foggy from whatever he’d dosed you with. Shaking your head, you look down to see you're completely bare in Murdock’s lap, straddled with your legs on either side of one of his thick thighs. You move to push yourself off him but find that your arms folded at your back and your wrists handcuffed.
“M-Murdock.”
“There you are, petal. It took longer than normal for you to wake up, someone’s out of practice.” He practically sings, taking a hold of your chin, grip just a touch too firm, and forcing your gaze on him.
He’s smirking, predator eyes barely visible through the dark crimson of his sunglasses. You squirm in his hold, trying to pull your chin from his palm but the fog in your mind leaves your limbs far too lethargic to do anything more than give a feeble attempt at struggle.
“Easy now, little thing, what’s the rush? You’re right where you need to be - in Daddy’s lap.”
You shudder despite yourself, finally mustering the power to yank your face from his grip, dropping your eyes to the floor.
“Where are my fucking clothes?”
“You know Daddy likes you better like this.”
“That’s not what I asked, asshole.”
“So grouchy. You’re usually so well behaved. Why the tantrum, petal?”
“Why the-” You turn to scowl at him. “You threatened me, drugged me, and now you’ve got me bound and naked. Take your fucking pick!”
Murdock tuts, reaching up to cup the side of your face and trace his thumb over your bottom lip. “I know you like it when I hunt you.”
“N-No, I fucking don’t. You’re a freak, a psychopath, a goddamn murderer and I’m tired of all your shit.”
“Resorting to name calling? You must be feeling very vulnerable. Good.”
“Why can’t you just let me go? Why couldn’t you just let me walk away?”
“Because we both know that’s not what you really want.”
“But it is. I’m tired of living like this. I’m tired of making excuses for you.”
“Making excuses for me…or making excuses for yourself?”
“I…I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh please, petal, do you remember when I found you? So scared, so lost, so desperate for someone to protect you, to keep you safe.”
“If this is what you call keeping me safe then you’re insane.”
“But that’s the thing, my love. I don’t think you want to be safe. You could’ve been safe with anyone. But you didn’t choose just anyone…you chose me.”
“I-I…I chose wrong. I never should’ve given you the time of day. I should’ve turned you in the second I saw you for what you are.”
“But you didn’t. Because you couldn’t. You want to know why?”
“I have a feeling you’re going to fucking tell me.”
“You need me, babydoll. You need Daddy.”
“I don’t need you, haven’t you been listening? I don’t want anything to do with you, you goddamn monster.”
“Oh I’ve been listening, petal, just not to what you’re saying. I’ve been listening to your body and the way it craves me.”
Murdock clamps his hands down on your hips, pressing you down against his thigh and forcing a whimper from your lips.
“You ache for me. Without Daddy here to keep you satisfied, what would you do?”
He starts to push and pull you over his thigh, the texture of his jeans rubbing against the sensitive skin between your legs and making sparks shoot up your spine.
“S-Stop…”
“Do you really want me to? Tell me the truth. Tell me you need me and I’ll stop.”
You shake your head furiously, biting back a moan. “No, I don’t. I don’t.”
“It sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself. Why fight it? Why fight me? We both know what you need.”
One of his hands slides up your body and to your chest, his leather clad fingers taking your nipple and tweaking it sharply. You moan, rutting your hips down against his legs subconsciously. Heat blossoms across your face and down your body, fogging your already addled mind.
“That’s it, babydoll. Daddy makes you feel so good, doesn’t he? You don’t need to fight it, just give into it. Tell me what I want to hear.”
A high pitched whine leaves your throat and you shake your head again, burying your face in the crook of his neck to hide the tears in your eyes.
“My pretty thing, my perfect pet. You were made for me, made for this. Weren’t you?”
“No, no, please.”
“Hm? Please what? Do you want Daddy to stop? You know what you need to say.”
“I-I…hnn”
Murdock ducks down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it, occasionally nipping at it with his teeth. The hand not on your hip reaches back to press a finger against your entrance.
“Even through the gloves I can feel how this little hole clenches around nothing, practically aching for daddy. Isn’t that right, petal?”
Tears are flowing freely down your cheeks now and you can’t even think of holding them back, can’t even think about anything but the friction between your legs and the finger pressed so close to where you need it.
“Please, please, Murdock, please.”
“Tell me what I want to hear. Tell Daddy how much you need him, need his cock and I’ll give you anything you want.”
“I can’t- I can’t,” you sob quietly. “Daddy, please.”
“Go on, petal. Three little words, that’s all you need to say. Just three words and Daddy will fuck you until you can’t walk straight.”
Murdock slides his finger inside you, curling it just so to rub against that special spot inside you and it’s too much and exactly right all at the same time. You cum with a cry, rutting helplessly against him and clenching around his finger.
“I need you, daddy, please, please, please!”
The next few seconds are a blur. You’re lifted briefly followed by the sound of a zipper and then you’re being forced down onto his cock and you’re so full, so full, and why did you fight this? Why did you think anything else could feel as good as this? Why did you think you needed anything but him?
“That’s it, babydoll. I know what you need. Daddy always knows what you need.”
#murdock killinheim x reader#murdock killinheim x reader smut#murderplier x reader#murderplier x reader smut#smooth criminal#nsft#tw knife#west writes#tw dubious consent#gn!reader
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Markiplier Egos with an Aromantic DA / Viewer
a/n: I randomly decided I really wanna get something out for aro week, so I've got a oneshot mayhaps involving a certain adventurer in the works, but knowing me that might take a while (if I even finish it all) and these tend to be easier for me. So, that's why this exists...not that you asked.
(edit: made one for Ace hcs.)
WILFORD WARFSTACHE
He wouldn't really care, but in like a supportive way.
He may not look like it, but the guy's got some common sense.
I can't see him as the type to ask a lot of questions especially if you're visibly uncomfortable around the topic. (tho ig he might if it's for an interview, not sure)
A big part of Wil's character is just accepting shit as it is and not questioning what you can't understand because falling down that spiral is ultimately unhealthy; so if you were to come out to him as any sexuality/gender identity, he'd most likely just accept you immediately and move one.
Expect to receive a lot of aro themed stickers on pride month though.
DARKIPLIER
Also doesn't care, but it's less him being supportive (tho he is) and more: it doesn't affect him, so why should he care?
Like you do you. Your love life is none of his business.
Quite frankly, he couldn't give a shit.
Though, he might find some relatability with you.
Despite how one might interpret ADWM, I cannot see Dark as an entity with the capability to feel much of anything. (other than rage, vengefulness, etc.)
There are some vague memories of past feelings from both Celine and Damien (and possibly the house entity, idk) mostly shown through his clear favoritism for Wil.
However, I don't think he really can feel romantic feelings, nor does he want to.
Being loved sounds nice, but ultimately it would just get in the way.
So having someone around that's kind of like him in that regard is almost nice...cathartic even.
You both like to watch 'marriage gameshows' (the bachelor, love is blind, etc.) over wine and laugh about how you'll never have to deal with relationship problems. (idc if that one's ooc)
GOOGLEPLIER
He can't really feel romantic attraction himself, yk being a robot and all.
If you tried explaining aromanticism to him he'd probably just be like: "Yeah, and??".
He's supportive in a sense, that sense being: you not having a partner would mean one less meat sack he has to deal with once he manages to get admin privileges.
BINGIPLIER
Kinda stumped on this one ngl.
I just can't find a reason why he'd care whatsoever.
He'd just be like: "Oh...siiiick, brah." with total Bill and Ted energy.
ACTOR
(edit: this is pre-wkm btw. idk why I did that, it doesn't really fit with the others that way. so I probably won't do it again in future hcs. sorry ig.)
I imagine it comes up at a party.
He starts asking you about your love life.
You tell him that you've never really been interested in that kind of stuff, and you probably never will.
What does he do?
...
He calls you boring.
...
AND THEN JUST FUCKIN' WALKS AWAY- like- ????
In all seriousness, he's mostly chill about it throughout your friendship, but it's hard for me not to picture him as the type to think you're just being naive and that 'everyone has to find someone someday'. (I believe WKM takes place in the 1920s, so like, what were you expecting?)
That is until Celine cheats on him.
It was just such a world shattering thing for him, he genuinely loved her more than anything.
It's not a complete 180°, he doesn't suddenly understand your lack of attraction from this, but one night you check in with him to find him wasted in his wine cellar and he's basically like: "You had it right all along, my friend. Love...Love is not for everyone. ...Certainly not the faint of heart."
Which like, you didn't choose this, but you were more focused on making sure he was okay at the time to care.
YANCY
A part of me wants to think he'd be a little confused at first just cause the idea of having to explain aromanticism and/or asexuality to him because he's just genuinely curious is really adorable to me.
However, the rest of me refuses to believe his friend group isn't entirely comprised of both people in the lgbtq+ community and hardcore allies who would happily beat the shit out of aphobes on a daily basis.
Not to say that they think of you as child-like because of your sexuality, but it's a prison family and you're 'fresh meat' so you're their little aro-bean now whether you like it or not.
Yancy especially is protective of you in an almost older brother type way.
So if after/during coming out to them (or just him) you mention how scared you were/are because you've had a lot of bad experiences or something, he's like constantly ready to sucker punch and/or ballerina kick anyone giving you flack over just being who you are.
He's always willing to tell you how valid you are when you need to hear it, and overall is just a really great friend.
...Even with the stabbing.
ILLINOIS
In an odd way, he almost feels...relieved?
Call it a humble brag, but literally all of his past work partners had fallen in love with him at some point, and while the attention certainly feeds his ego, that kinda thing just gets tired and even annoying after a while.
So knowing that'll never happen with you is actually a nice break from what he's grown so used to.
He's never had someone around who genuinely enjoys adventuring as much as he does.
And who isn't like constantly ogling him. (I mean probably anyway, idk what it's like to be aroallo)
Having you around may also cause him to start questioning some things about himself, particularly when you're explaining your orientation.
But that's a topic we'll be getting into at another time! (*wink* *wink* *nudge* *nudge* *stares at empty draft*)
He's still used to trying to fluster people cause he finds it funny and in general is just the kind of person to be a bit touchy with his friends (meaning: platonic hand holding, hugs, head/back pats, standing weirdly close a lot of the time just naturally, etc.), so if you're ever uncomfortable just tell him and he'll cut it out straight away.
You're both just kinda really good friends, and he's not at all weird about it like you thought he might be.
CAPTAIN MAGNUM
Supportive Pirate Dad! 10/10!
You definitely have to explain what it means to him, but he verbally accepted you before he even asked.
Kinda like: "That's great!...What is it?-"
Would have the crew sew you a flag if it would make you happy.
They are still pirates who have been sailing across the deep blue their whole lives with presumably no contact with the mainland however.
So unless you for some fuckin reason told them what it looks like, you can expect to receive a relatively small, plain black flag with the word 'Arrowmantik.' spelled incorrectly and somehow sewn on in perfect white Helvetica.
...
You hung the flag right above your hammock.
It is your most prized possession.
HEAD ENGINEER
Might be a little discouraged at first. His crush on you was a tad obvious.
But he figures it's for the best. You are the captain after all. Pursuing that relationship wouldn't have been professional in the slightest.
It does take a bit but he gets over it eventually.
He still genuinely loves you platonically/as a person, so things don't really change all that much.
You still have a strong friendship and work really well together.
He tends to go a bit overboard now about giving you personal space cause he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable. So you may have to reassure him multiple times if it wasn't an issue.
During when pride month would be on earth he might gift you little aro themed stuff, like a patch you can't actually add to your uniform for work reasons but love and appreciate anyway.
He may not fully understand how you feel, but he never stops trying to, and either way he's always gonna support you no matter what.
Your orientation could never change how much he loves and trusts you both as a captain and as his friend.
MURDOCK
He doesn't really care since it doesn't affect what you guys do, though he is openly accepting, especially if it seemed like you needed to hear that it wasn't something that bothered him.
In a similar vein to Illinois, he's strangely grateful.
He's not sure how he would've dealt with the situation had you developed a crush on him. Such emotions tend to get in the way more often than not in his line of work.
He didn't wanna have to kill you just to make his life easier. Taking a life out of necessity isn't as much fun, plus he'd grown a tad fond of you.
I like to think he cares quite a bit about your mental health, it would make sense given the whole murder thing.
So if you often go through periods of doubt or even internalized self hatred regarding being aromantic, he's gonna be there to help you through it.
He goes with you to pride parades and if anyone tries to tell you that you don't belong there, they're immediately getting put on a black list.
He got you a nifty little keychain once while you were there.
Overall, surprisingly wholesome.
a/n: I went back and forth on whether or not I was gonna use the pronouns I hc them all as using, but in the end I just said 'fuck it, appeal to general audiences, why not at this point'. I'm really fuckin' tired, dude. Just- HAPPY ARO WEEK! ig.
#markiplier egos & reader#wilford warfstache & reader#darkiplier & reader#googleplier & reader#bingiplier & reader#actor mark & reader#yancy & reader#ahwm yancy & reader#illinois & reader#ahwm illinois & reader#captain magnum & reader#ahwm captain magnum & reader#head engineer mark & reader#murderplier & reader#iswm murderplier & reader#iswm murdock & reader#aromantic reader#aro week
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'Ego' Sucktember 2022 Day 3: Messy
Ire for contested land does not make alliance.
I more ways than one. This one is a bit darker than the other entries, delving into possessiveness and jealousy. It's Murdock. What do you expect?
THEY KEEP GETTING LONGER. FUCK. it's still THE 3RD SOMEWHERE-
Rating: NSFW MINORS DNI
AFAB!Reader/Femme
Pairing: Murdock (ISWM) x AFAB!Reader
Warnings: Heavy public grinding/orgasms. Pet names/use of 'girl'. Cumming in pants. Possessive/Obsessive behavior. Mentions of past Stalking. Cumeating.
Word Count: 4100+
You’d traveled into the nearby town to do some necessary shopping. Sometimes, your Killer tags along on these outings, acting like a giant, possessive guard dog. This is necessary with how many enemies Murdock has made over the years; however, you find the presence of your looming shadow to be placating.
You’re safer with him than anywhere else.
Before you went to purchase the perishables on your list at the local supermarket, you’d decided to make a stop at a new coffee shop that had opened up in town. It’s a quaint little establishment with a slightly rustic feel; a few patrons sit in booths and partake of their orders while idle chitchat and soft music drift through the air around you. The cozy feel is just enough for you to let your guard down as you step up to the counter.
You consider calling Murdock and asking him if he’d want one of those off-the-wall drinks he always orders while you place your own. However, when you consider the distance between you and home, you decide against that. It’d be cold by then, and the man is probably busy planning or whatever he does in his downtime.
Oh, but you don’t realize… or do you?
The barista calls your name when your hot cocoa is ready, offering it to you from over the counter with a smile. His name is Stephen by the tag on his breast, and you smile in turn, offering a rather generous tip into the jar beside the register.
“Oh- thank you, miss, it’s appreciated,” he beams, that smile growing. You realize with a bit of concern that he’s cute, that soft country boy energy is a heavy juxtaposition to the 6’5 wall of muscle that fucked you senseless not 12 hours ago. Such a contrast to what you’re used to, but you can appreciate his aesthetics.
“Don’t worry about it, my guy,” you wave him off placatingly while trying to ignore that little flutter in your chest, “I used to work as a waitress so I know how much of a struggle it is, especially now.”
“Small world. Still, thank you.”
You lift the cup to him in salute. He nods, that smile still quirking the corners of his mouth as you go and sit by the window. While you idly scroll through your social media apps and wait for your cocoa to cool, your mind wanders back to Murdock. You’d wanted him to come with you today, both for quality time and the sense of security he brings you.
The longer you sip on the cocoa, the more you find yourself chitchatting with Stephen. You shouldn’t even entertain it, but there’s something homely about him; something painfully domestic. He is friend shaped.
Another barista by the name of Adelaide joins in on your conversation, and you find that you enjoy her input as well. Maybe you’ll come back to this coffee shop more often.
It’s not long after you’d ordered your second drink and sat down when you see the green of an apron in your peripheral vision.
“Ma’am?” It’s Stephen, you realize with a bit more curiosity than you should. He hovers at your side with a basket of muffins, offering them to you. “We have some product that’s not considered salvageable by my manager. Would you like a free muffin?” When you stare skeptically at the basket, he clarifies, “Don’t worry, it’s completely aesthetic. The tops didn’t puff up right.”
They’re quirky little things, bent this way and that, even compressed in one case. You’d never been one to turn down free food in the correct setting, so you pluck out a cracked top muffin with a nod of thanks. While you place the muffin down on the table, Stephen slips a small piece of paper down beside it before walking over to the next patron and repeating his spiel.
Upon opening up the little note, you find it to be a message:
“Hey. So, both Adelaide and I think you are incredibly interesting and would like to know if you’d like to go out for some coffee or drinks next time you’re in town. Hit us up if you want. No obligation otherwise, we’re just putting it out there.”
He punctuated it with a winky face and 2 different phone numbers in 2 different hand scripts, signed Stephen and Adelaide.
... Oh.
At first, you don’t know what to say, flattered as you are by the attention. You have to admit that they are pleasant people and you’d like to get to know them better, but… part of you feels like that would end up becoming a slippery slope with Murdock waiting for them at the bottom.
Your Killer is always testy when it comes to you and new people. He doesn’t stifle your social interactions in the slightest, but he always has to vet people before he’s willing to leave you alone with them. He has enemies, enemies who would target you if they knew about your connection. One of your old friends trying to reconnect with you turned out to be a problem in that vein, so you’ve learned to leave well enough alone.
It’s not the healthiest way to deal with things, but when did he ever claim to be a healthy individual?
The soft jingling of the doorbell alerts you and everyone else in the shop of a new customer. You don’t look up immediately, still scrutinizing the paper in your hand and taking a bite from the muffin. If you had, you’d understand why the shop quiets down slightly and why Stephen’s usual bubbly greeting falls a bit flat.
“Uh, welcome, sir, what can I get you-” Stephen inquires, soft and a bit awkward.
“I have an online order.”
You freeze, that familiar voice cutting through your awareness like a knife.
“Ah- what’s, the name?” The poor barista sounds more panicked by the second. You feel so bad-
“Kuller.”
Slowly looking up, you see that familiar black peacoat from the back, those gloved hands flexing subtly at his sides. Murdock turns his head just enough to acknowledge you with a rendition of your smile bordering on dangerous. “Hi, Sweetheart.”
“... Hi, Murdock.”
He’s followed you again. That much is obvious. It’s not something he does often anymore that you know about, now that you’re on the same page with each other. He only follows you or reveals that he’s around when something happens that he doesn’t like. It can be anything from you being targeted to the police getting too close, or an extroverted barista trying to make… friends.
The Killer carries tension in his body that you can’t tell if it’s from a new threat against you or the fact that the baristas were flirting with you. Stephen can feel it because he rushes behind the counter faster than you’ve seen him move all day.
Once Murdock has his drink, he tips the same amount of money you placed into the jar before making a b-line to you and sliding into the booth across from you. You smile at him, but the way he looks at you over his glasses tells you that it’s not just the barista he’s here about.
“If you wanted to come with me, babe, you could have asked,” you begin softly, sliding your hand across the table and lightly squeezing his. Much to your easing nerves, he doesn’t pull away, your smile easing back on his lips as he squeezes in turn. There’s a warmth in his eyes that he doesn’t have often outside of the house.
He hums softly and takes a sip of his drink, smiling knowingly at you over the cup. “I know, my sweet girl, but I had business to take care of, a few loose ends to tie up with my last project.” You really don’t know how much he relishes the way your eyes widen when he discusses this so casually in public. “You know how work is, always so demanding.”
You tilt your head to the side in consideration, taking a bite of your muffin again. The action brings his attention to the note beside you, and you feel his grip tighten subtly. They’re not a threat to him, but you can see why he’d consider it to be such.
Maybe now would be a good time to show your hand again. Unfortunately, Stephen steps back around the counter and approaches you again, only hesitating for a second when Murdock glares at him from over his glasses. You’re impressed.
The barista places a receipt on the table, along with a muffin from the wonky batch. “You forgot your receipt, sir, and we have free muffins on the house today.” Even you catch that slight waver in his voice, and you notice the way your Killer’s gaze sharpens as it passes between the offered items and Stephen’s face.
Finally, Murdock breaks the staredown that feels a lot longer than it was, pocketing the receipt and offering the muffin to you. You decline politely. He only does that when he doesn’t consider the person in question worth his time. That’s good, at least.
When Stephen returns to the counter again, you decide that maybe now would be a good time to show your hand again. “Well, I mean… we could always go on that vacation you brought up a few months ago; tour the coast once the weather decides to mellow out?”
That gets his attention back to you, brows lifting above the rim of his glasses in mild surprise. You savor that look as you draw his hand closer to you and lightly bump one of his boots with your foot; you don’t get to surprise him often. He looks cute like this.
“Really?” He sounds surprised, almost excited, and that flutter in your chest rebounds hard. Fuck.
“Of course,” you continue after drinking the last of your cocoa, “I’ll have to request off for work, but it’s been a few years since I took a proper vacation. Why not with you?"
There’s your smile again, that warmth spreading to his eyes as he softens visibly. You feel heat spreading across your cheeks, gently squeezing his hand once more.
You sit together for a few more minutes in silence before you crumple the now empty muffin wrapper, tossing it into your cup and moving to stand. “Do you want to help me finish shopping, now that you’re here?”
Murdock gets up wordlessly, hand still entwined with yours. He might, he might not. It’s always up in the air with him sometimes. The Killer finishes his drink and tosses the cup into the trash along with your own as you both head towards the door.
You pick up the note as an afterthought, tucking it into your pocket and waving to Stephen and Adelaide as you leave. Friends can happen. You don’t think you want anything else with them, however.
For their sakes. It’s not just Murdock they’d have to deal with.
The walk back to your car is rather easy. Rather quiet. You’d honestly expected him to act a bit weirder in the coffee shop- more casually threatening than he was. Murdock is a bit too possessive for his own good, but in many ways, you can’t blame him.
You truly don’t understand that you are one of the only good things the Killer has- he’s ever had. He’s not keen on losing that, and you don’t realize what lengths he’ll go to keep it that way.
“So…”, you prompt quietly, walking just behind Murdock, “... is there a reason you followed me this time?”
He doesn’t answer immediately, head turned to scan the other side of the street. “The Widowmaker showed her face again last night, gutted some moron in Harrisburg. I’m covering my bases.”
Oh. You remember her; she likes to target married men, and Murdock took one of her kills a few years ago. He seems to do that a lot. It’s not a surprise that he’s here, then.
Still, you can’t help but think back to the look he gave Stephen, the look he gave the note. Sure, he’s always been handsy in public when dealing with ‘intrusions on his territory’, as he snarled it into your neck one night, but… that felt different.
That seemed like he felt legitimately threatened.
“You know…” you begin carefully when you are out of earshot to the other passerby, softly, only continuing when he turns his head slightly in your direction, “... that I’d only take them up on their offer after you vetted them, right? Even then, it’d only be platonic. They’re not you. God, they’re not you.”
Murdock stops walking altogether, expression painfully neutral. You don’t realize he’s stopped walking until you’re a few steps ahead, so you turn back to face him. It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking right now, as you can’t see his eyes for the shadow of the parking garage beside you tinting his shades black.
You step forward cautiously, uncertain, very much the wary prey hovering around the beast. It’s only that slight shift of his head that signals you still have his attention when you gently wrap your hands around his forearm, very much in his space. “This is an entirely different situation than my friends were, Killer. I trust your judgment, here.”
Vulnerability.
He’d never hurt you, you know that, but this is you making a point. This proximity will always be your staying point. “Hell, I’d never doubt it. I have no reason to.”
Your voice softens even further while you gently press your hand to his chest, leaning against him now. “I trust you more than anyone else, Murdock. I don’t need anyone else.”
For a beat, he doesn’t react, and you worry if you’ve said something you shouldn’t have. Then, the man snarls a sharp ‘Fuck.’ into the autumn air and you are suddenly moving into the parking garage-
You both have rounded the corner by the time your mind catches up with you; Murdock has backed you into a secluded hall, pressed into the wall, and trapped there by his body. A thigh pressed between your legs stops you from moving while your hands are pinned above your head, clasped in his larger one. It doesn’t take much on his end to press that thigh higher, right into your core.
Oh.
“Murdock, what-” His mouth silences you, easily kissing away your protests and dragging you into a heady haze with deep sweeps of his tongue. You sag into his body, whining softly into the kiss when his free hand grips your hip and encourages you to set a pace against the thigh he’s pressing into your center. It isn’t even an afterthought with how quickly you oblige him.
Shit. Well. You didn’t expect this response.
“God, you sweet, pliant little creature," the Killer breathes against your mouth when he pulls away, lightly tugging at your lower lip with his teeth, “You truly have no fucking idea what you do to me." He shudders, grip tightening on you. "You really do belong to me, don't you, Sweetheart?”
You press further into him, eagerly grinding against his thigh and mewling softly. It’s ridiculous how quickly he can get you to comply, to drop in situations like this. If you weren’t so into his possessiveness, you’d feel a bit more concerned about getting caught.
“Those little worms wanted you- wanted what’s fucking mine-”, he continues to snarl into your skin now, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. You can’t help but sigh and drop your head to the side and give him the access he needs. The man rewards you by sucking harshly at the junction of your neck and shoulder, seeking to leave a deep purple mark there.
Murdock releases your wrists and you let your arms fall on his shoulders, fingers sinking into the soft, black locks obscuring his face. It takes you a bit too long to realize that the distinct lack of hands on you would translate to warm, calloused hands sliding up under your shirt- shit-
The breathy little sound you make for him, muscles jumping under those fingers, is more than enough for him to escalate the situation. You whine when he moves his thigh back, but it turns into a startled yip when your feet leave the ground, legs hooking around his hips on reflex. That just presses his erection right up against your cunt through the flimsy fabric of your pants and fuck, he’s throbbing.
“Sir-” you’re already unabashedly grinding against his crotch before he’s even settled against you and the Killer swears, taking hold of your hips and rocking back into you with double the fervor. It’s more than his thigh, better than his thigh, delicious friction from both his jeans and that thickness pressed just right- God, it’s perfect.
It is, at least, until you hear the honk of a distant car horn and are dragged back to reality, pace stuttering. Shit. Fuck. “Murdock- wait-” He doesn’t stop when you slow down, working you against his cock as he chases his high. “- We’re in public- we can’t-”
“Shh, sweetheart, we’re gonna do this right here.” He doesn’t even bother slowing down as he pulls back to look at you, glasses askew on his nose. His eyes are visible in the artificial light, and his pupils are so blown out that you can barely see his irises.
Oh-
“Sir doesn’t give a damn right now,” he snarls, leaning in to bury his face into your neck again and work on another mark. “He needs this, and so do you. Shouldn’t have said what you did if you didn’t want to risk it here.”
A moan escapes you when his lips cover a certain sensitive spot below your ear, biting down lightly while he presses you further into the wall. Friction and chasing that edge outweighs anything else right now, that coil starting to build in your gut. The unforgiving concrete and drag of his cock truly have you trapped between a rock and a hard place.
Murdock notices familiar wetness starting to soak into his pants, pausing just long enough to press his fingers in between where you’re pressed so intimately together. He groans into your skin. “You’re soaked, lewd little thing. Does this turn you on that badly?”
Indignant little noises are his answer at first, but he uses the opportunity to press his thumb into your clit and rub in rapid little circles to keep you off balance. “Or is it because you know only I can make you feel this way?”
You warble, tugging at his hair with one hand while the other remains anchored to his shoulder to ground yourself. Your legs quake, trying to get that friction back that you need. Damn it, why won’t he just fuck you already-
“That’s it, isn’t it?” His tone is so sure, so knowing that it momentarily cuts through your needy haze. He’s looking at you again, that possessive hunger you know so well clear on his face. “You know. You know who you belong to.”
Something clicks in your mind; some submissive mindset hitting you hard as you drop even further than before. You nod meekly, fingers curling into his hair again as you press your forehead to his own. “I belong to Sir. I always have.”
That fucking gets him. It gets him harder than it ever should.
Your teeth click together with how hard he kisses you, practically devouring your mouth, shoving his tongue so deep within it’s like he’s trying to steal your breath away. Helpless little whines escape you and he swallows every single one, practically fucking you into the wall. There will be bruises on your hips by morning.
“No one can give you this-” he’s growling against your lips now, rutting faster, rougher, using you to get himself off as much as he’s trying to force you to cum. The angle he has is hitting your clit perfectly, and you’re trying not to cry from how fucking good it feels. “No one can fuck you like Sir can, fill you up like he does, give you what you need-”
You’re too turned on chasing that high to argue because technically he isn’t filling you right now, too focused on that coil getting tighter, those electric jolts racing up your spine getting worse and worse. Your hips follow his of their own will, dragged higher and higher, cunt clenching around nothing as you realize just how close you truly are now.
You’re going to cum, but you're not full of him right now. You make a peculiar little sound as you teeter, pawing at him to get his attention as that sound gets strangled. No- Wait- You want him to cum inside you-
“Murdock- Sir- notyet- pleaseIneedyour-” You lose your ability to speak, tugging at his hair to try and get your point across. He doesn’t waver, biting your earlobe lightly. Frustration at the situation builds up and you find yourself trying to fight your orgasm.
He growls and pushes harder, adjusting himself to grind at that delicious angle against the whole of your cunt. It’s too much and not enough, all at once. “Shhhh, you’re gonna– mmm, fuck– you’re gonna cum, pretty little thing, don’t you dare fight it. You’re gonna cum and you’re gonna make a fucking mess in those pretty little panties for me.”
His choice of words and tone just pull you further, gripping anywhere you can for some kind of anchor- but he even denies you that, pinning your arms above your head again and leaving you at the mercy of this maddening, delicious friction.
“Go ahead and fucking soak Sir’s cock, Sweetheart. Show him who you belong to.”
The broken little sound that drags itself out of you quickly cascades into a cry when that coil finally snaps, barely muffled by Murdock's hand over your mouth. Your stomach drops, eyes squeezing shut as your body curls in on itself, legs squeezing his hips as waves of heady pleasure roil through you. The feeling of being so painfully empty is almost an insult to you, walls clenching achingly around nothing.
Your Killer doesn’t slow down at all, pinning your hips to the wall and chasing his own high, quickly overstimulating you into a sobbing mess.
“Goddamn it, that’s it, that’s right- just for me, only for me. Shit-” Murdock quickly bites down on your shoulder and groans, using you to muffle the sound of him falling apart. You’re so sensitive at this point that the change in friction is a balm, but the quickly spreading wet warmth pressed against your core makes you cry out for a different reason; that’s yours- that’s your cum, your reward, it’s supposed to be inside you-
Murdock finally stills his hips, twitching from oversensitivity himself, pressing his crotch firmly against your own as he comes down from his high while panting into your neck. The squish you hear is enough to make you flush horribly, half aware of everything around you. You mewl weakly when he grinds once, squirming, head lulled forward on his shoulder. The sting from his bite is already starting to set in; you have the passing hope that he didn’t break the skin.
Your feet finally touch the ground around a minute later, but he does not let you go immediately. There’s no way you could stand up on your own right now, anyway.
The sudden presence of a warm hand delving into your underwear shocks you out of your afterglow torpor and you look up at him in confusion, whining softly. “Murdock-”
He only grins, fingers sliding through your wet folds, making you choke and hide your face in mortification. “Sir told you that you’d make a mess for him, but he didn’t expect this. I didn’t think you’d ever squirt from grinding, sweet thing.”
“Sh-Shut up, Murdock-” you stutter helplessly as he sinks a finger inside you, eased along by the wetness he’d earned from you. The man kisses the crown of your head while collecting that slick and drawing his hand back out.
He only laughs. You’ll never get used to the predatory look he gets when he sees your fluids covering his hand. “So messy, pretty thing. Messy, and owned, as it should be.”
Your glower at him, half-tempted to just walk to the car yourself. You wouldn’t make it very far as it stands, though. “S-Shut up, oh my f-fucking god-“
He starts cleaning your mess off his hand, sucking noisily. All you can do is watch, trapped against the wall, making indignant little sounds and pouting because you didn’t get bred. All that cum, wasted in his boxers-
He notices your pouting and tilts your head up with that same hand, the faint wetness clinging to your chin. “You think I’m done today, Sweetheart? Oh no. There’s plenty to come for my perfect little Siren.”
Oh.
#murder bastard 🗡#murdock x reader#my writing#sucktember2022#ego sucktember#tw stalking#tw obsessive behavior#problematic man don't take me by the hand#i am not sorry#welcome to my deep grey matter brainrot#afab!reader#murderplier x reader
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Murdock x Ex-Assassin!Serial killer! Reader - Headcanons/Drabble
Warnings: murder, violence, gore
I like to imagine that Murdock sticks to killing in the southern states whereas you excel in killing in the north, like both in Canada and in the states
You two aren't all that familiar with each other. You don't kill in areas where Murdock is currently hanging out
You're referred to as Oleander by police since your preferred method of killing is by poisoning people. Not that you don't also kill by traditional methods, you just prefer to stick with what you're more experienced at
You specialize in killing corrupt politicians (of whom you kill their entire immediate family and drain all bank accounts of money). Now that you're no longer an assassin, tho, you kill indiscriminately. If, however, someone wants to 'hire' you to kill a specific person, they need to have the money for you upfront and they cannot double cross you... duh. You have no qualms about killing them if they can't follow one of your rules
You'd just lured a victim off the streets and into your 'den'. You recently got pissed off by a guy in a long, dark coat. And sunglasses. In a local grocery store. Only douchebags wear sunglasses inside... Well, and those with vision problems, but that's off topic
You usually kill with finesse, and poise. Not today, tho. Today you are pissed off, and as you drag your latest victim to the basement you grab your baseball bat
You've dragged out their death as much as you can, so you whack them over the back of the head with the bat. Because it's an aluminum bat, you didn't need to put too much excessive force behind the hit, but uh... You kinda caved in the back of their skull
Your just about to get cleaning up when you pick up the sound of movement upstairs. It's gonna be BAD if the police decided to show up. You carefully, and quietly, move around
First things first is to put the bat down. Then you grab one of your knives. You then quietly make your way to the stairs of the basement, and you flip every breaker in the electrical box as you pass it
Thank god, you're more adept at moving around in pitch black environments then the average person. You make your way up the stairs. When you get to the landing, you hear a crash, thud, and a hiss of 'fuck' coming from the living room
You tiptoe your way towards the silhouette in your living room, raising your knife and preparing to plunge it down into their back. Suddenly, your arm is being grabbed and the room spins as you get flipped over onto your back. Snarling, you shove the knife towards the person only for them to easily snatch it from your grip with a snicker.
"Really? You're really going to stab me??"
You blink owlishly at him. "I mean, I'm not as proficient at stabbing people, but I think I do pretty good."
"Mmm, and yet, you're on the floor under me..." You can practically hear the smirk in is voice.
"Wait, who the hell are you and why are you in my house??"
"What, you haven't heard of me? My names Murdock, best you don't forget it. As for what I'm doing here, would you believe me if I told you that I'm laying low??"
You gently shove yourself out from under Murdock and stand up. "No, no I would not. I don't think killing someone in their own home is the way you go about 'laying low'." You grab your knife from the killer, and you wander back to the basement to turn the power back on. "By the way, you're awfully far north. Something happen??"
You didn't take Murdock to be someone who was talkative, but apparently the mans liked to chat. He followed you from the living room to the basement, not making any comment on the dead body when the lights got turned on. He did, however, make an offhand comment on how well you covered everything in plastic before going back into chatting about his latest escapade. You had heard about it from a friend who also happened to be an acquaintance of his, so you could tell when he added embellishments to his story. You mostly tuned him out as you worked on cleaning up, offering occasional hums of agreement and even a comment sometimes.
"Can you help me with this real quick? There's a hole in the wall over there that I plan on moving the washer and dryer in front of when I'm done patching it up."
"Really? Your gonna leave a trail??"
You shrug in response. "Running from the cops is half the fun. Besides, if all goes according to plan, I'll be halfway around the world by the time they find him."
Murdock simply offers you a hum of acknowledgement as you both grab both ends of the plastic and shove it into the wall on the far end of the room. You stand and turn to him, squinting your eyes slightly when you realize he's standing a bit closer than before.
"Welp, that's that for now. I'll get the supplies to repair the hole tomorrow. You wanna join me for a bite to eat, and some wine before you have to go?"
#jays thoughts#iswm part 2#iswm 2 fanfiction#murderplier#murderplier x reader#murderplier x gn!reader#serial killer reader#reader is a serial killer#reader kills people#reader is gender neutral#reader is an adult#iswm#ends abruptly whoops#didn't know how to end it#in space with markiplier part 2#ambiguous ending#tw mentions of serious injuries#tw murder#markiplier fanfiction#markiplier ego fanfic
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Good Morning Sunshine
Yes I know it has been months, and I have so much other stuff to write, but self indulgence is the name of the game. Murdock x amab reader
Wordcount: 1.1k+
Tags/warnings: frottage, biting, choking, dom-ish reader, maybe a smidge of size difference
You slowly wake up in your bed, curled around Murdock's back. You're no fully awake quite yet, your nose against the back of his neck. He shifts and sighs in his sleep, but doesn't wake.
One of your arms is over his waist, the other squeezed between you, resting against Murdock's bare back.
It takes a few moments, of just laying there and breathing in the scent of him and feeling the warmth under the covers, to realize you're hard.
You lick your lips, shifting, thinking for a moment, then rock your hips forward, rubbing yourself against Murdock's lower back. Your arm over his waist moves, and you're not surprised to find him half hard in his boxers. You start to message him, quickly bringing him to full hardness, and also into awakeness.
He wakes with a groan, rutting into your hand, and then rocking back into you as he feels your hard cock against him.
"Oh, are you in a mood this morning, sunshine?" He growls out, and he gets his answer as you shift, and your hand between the two of you moves up to tangle in his hair and move his head to get easy access to bite down on his neck.
"Oh, yes my sunshine, take what you want from Sir." He groans as you keep rutting against him, moving your attention from his neck to his shoulder, biting down hard. It doesn't bleed, but Murdock grunts from the pain, then chuckles.
His voice is still laden with the gravel of sleep, but none of his movements are sleepy or slow as he keeps moving against your hand and pushing himself back against your cock.
One of his hands reaches back to push your head against his shoulder, encouraging you to keep marking the area, not that you really need that with the noises he is making with every pass of your lips, teeth, and tongue.
Soothing the sting of a bite as he tries to get one hand down his boxers, but you slap it away.
"No touch." Murdock laughs, but it's quickly cut off as your hand moves from his hair to curl around his throat. A squeeze, and you feel his cock twitch beneath your hand.
And you're sure Murdock can feel yours twitch against him just above his ass.
You have half a mind to push your underwear down to feel that wonderful skin to skin contact, but that would require moving one of your hands away from Murdock.
And you can't have that.
So you keep your palm pressed against his clothed cock, feeling it twitch and move underneath your hand, the fabric of his boxers getting more soaked by the second.
Though you won't allow him fully touch himself, you do allow Murdock to press his hand over yours, and press your hand down even harder against him.
"Fuck, what a way to wake up, hmm?" You don't say an answer out loud, but you do squeeze once around his cock and around his throat, which is a good enough response for him. The laughing moan he lets out is wonderfully breathless, though he keeps talking.
"My little Sunshine, just taking what they want, not caring at all for what Sir wants." He's right, that is exactly the plan you have at this wonderful moment.
And you're sure he wants to say something more, so as soon as his mouth opens again, you quickly move your hand from his throat and up to his mouth so you can press two fingers inside of his mouth.
He grunts around the sudden intrusion, but is quick to start sucking at your digits like they are your cock, rolling his tongue against the underside like he has done to your cock many a time before.
The feeling of that, all the memories that it brings back, and how good he feels rocking against you makes the string inside of you snap, and you cum with a cry of his name which is mostly muffled against his shoulder as you sink your teeth in, this time drawing blood.
Your hips rut against his back for a few more moments, and you know he can feel your cum seep through your boxers as he smirks around your fingers.
Lucky for Murdock, you keep palming his cock all through your orgasm and those wonderful last spurts and twitches. Though you don't think you could stop your hand with how he's pushing his own down on top.
Shifting just a bit, you give Murdock no warning as you slip your hand away from underneath his, and instead slip it fully inside his underwear to take his cock in hand. He's rock hard, not that you had any doubts from before, and so wet, leaking all over your hand as you give him one pump, then two.
Clearly he wasn't far behind you, because with 5 more strokes and your tongue lapping up the little bit of blood that came forth when you bit him as you came, he cums too.
He cums hard, you can feel his teeth brush against your fingers, and the hand in your hair gripping hard enough to be on the edge between good and too much pain. You stroke him through it, reveling in the aftershocks and feeling how his cum coats your hand.
You need to get it cleaned off, but don't want to let go of Murdock yet, which does give you an idea. Pulling your other fingers out of his mouth as you let go of his cock, Murdock clearly thinks you've had enough as he speaks once more.
"There you go, have you ha- ngk!" His sentence is cut short as three cum covered fingers are shoved into his empty mouth.
He groans around them, but dutifully sucks and licks, tasting himself on your fingers.
You grin against his shoulder, trusting them in and out of his mouth a few times before pulling them out. Though you don't move your hand far, pressing your palm against his mouth, making sure he gets every drop that covers your hand, the wonderful work his tongue is doing is already making arousal stir in your stomach once more..
"I am going to ruin you." You whisper against his skin, giving a kiss to one of the many bites on his shoulder. You feel his breath wash over your hand as Murdock gives it one last lick and chuckles.
"Big words coming from you, you think you will be able to follow through?" You let your hand fall down on his chest, pinching a nipple as you lick over your hardest bite mark.
"Oh yes Sir."
#murdock x reader#murdock fic#murdock fanfiction#murdock smut#murdock#amab reader#my writing#smut#lemon#murderplier x reader
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Murderplier x female reader - Love: The Imaginary Dagger
(A/n: This story was inspired by Loki’s "What is love" quote. I hope you all enjoy it!)
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Love is a dagger
Murdock never had time for love. His hobby kept him quite busy and his job certainly didn’t help that case either. Being a paid murderer wasn’t easy. The constant thrill of the hunt if his victims ran, the adrenaline rushing through his veins as he slowly tortured and killed them, and the long and arduous process of hiding his presence and evidence from the police kept him on his toes and occupied a good portion of his brain. It never got easier, but that’s what made it so fun so who was he to complain?
Today was another day and another murder. Murdock was hired by an anonymous man to take out a woman. He was given a brief description as well as some pictures of the man and woman together. She was beautiful, he couldn’t deny that, but a job was a job and he had to see it through. As he roamed the streets of her residencial city, he noticed her across the street.
The murderer frowned in frusteration. He couldn’t simply shoot her from his position. The streets were rather crowded that day which meant at least one person would see him take out his target.
He needed to get closer.
As Murdock quickly crossed the street, he watched as she entered a French style cafe. He rolled his eyes at her choice of dining. That specific cafe was known both for their amazing food, and for their incredibly fake accents. She could’ve done so much better, but that wasn’t for him to decide. Maybe this was his chance.
He quickly entered the cafe, which to his dismay was rather packed. Looking around, he saw plenty of people but not enough seats, and surely no sign of his target. “Bonjour! How may we help you today?” Came an awfully fake French accent and Mudock looked to see a scrawny waiter in a suit vest and pants with dyed blue hair. “Uhh, I’ll take a black coffee please.” He said this out of slight panic, but played it cool on the outside. “Ah, splendid! Would you like cream? Sugar? And are you dining in or ordering to go?”
“No thanks, and I’d like to dine in, though I don’t see any available seats.”
“You can sit with me! Don’t worry!” A feminine voice interrupted, and both turned to see his target waving at them from her spot in a booth with a beautiful smile. Murdock was shocked. She was even more beautiful in person. The pictures he had been given just didn’t do her justice. Yes (Y/n) (L/n), his next victim, had taken his breath away with only a single sight.
“Ah magnifique! I’ll get your order ready right away, sir.” Murdock nodded at the man and sat down across from (Y/n). “What’s your name, sir?” She asked, making him tense up slightly. He wasn’t used to his targets being so friendly right away. “My name’s.. Murdock Iplier. What’s yours?” She smiled again, making his cheeks heat up just a little. “My name’s (Y/n) (L/n). It’s nice to meet you.” He already knew her name, but this interaction with her didn’t bother him at all. How many times had he charmed his female victims through conversation only to slaughter them and laugh at their rotting corpses? Too many to count.
Murdock’s drink arrived soon after and the pair in the booth began to talk. He found himself engaged solely in the conversation, and his thoughts avoided the gruesome topic of his mission. After his cup was empty, (Y/n) excused herself to go to the bathroom and his thoughts returned.
‘I could put some drugs in her drink.’ He thought, staring at her drink from his side of the table. He contemplated it for a minute, but couldn’t bring himself to pull through. She returned to the table and they returned to their previous conversation, the murderous task once again forgotten.
When the bills later arrived at the table, Murdock paid both of them off much to (Y/n)’s surprise. “Why did you pay for mine?” He smiled at her, internally chuckling as her face donned a slight pink hue. “I owe you for letting me sit with you. It’s the least I can do to repay your kindness.” She looked down with a shy “Thank you.” They left the cafe together, about to part ways when she suddenly turned around. “Hey, uh… Murdock?” He looked at her beautiful being again with a slight head tilt, waiting for her to continue. “Would you.. maybe want to do this again sometime?”
He was shocked and surprised to say the least but smiled and nodded. “I would like that very much. Would it be alright then if I got your number?” The slight pink on (Y/n)’s cheeks turned into a darker shade and she nodded happily. The two exchanged contacts and left in different directions, his target still very much alive.
It’s a weapon to be wielded far away or up close.
Their next meeting turned into another and that third outing turned into many more. Much to his confusion, Murdock began to feel odd around his stalled target. There were butterflies in his stomach when he thought about her, his face became unnaturally warm when he looked into her (e/c) eyes or received a text asking to meet up, and every waking moment was about his lovely (Y/n) in his arms without a worry in the world. He had to kill her. That was his mission and he had to see it through, but much to his confusion, he didn’t want to kill her.
How did this happen? The cold hearted killer, Murdock Iplier, didn’t want to end the insignificant life of his victim? No, he didn’t. He wanted to protect her and that’s what scared him. He wasn’t supposed to gain any actual feelings of affection toward her. She was supposed to be dead. That’s what he was being paid to do. So then why does he keep meeting up with her? Why didn’t he just do this one job and move on with his life? Why did he put it off and take other jobs, completing them without any problem?
He needed to kill her and he needed to do it now.
After they went out again the next day, Murdock invited her to his home, which was the perfect place to eliminate her without anyone noticing. As he led her to his living room, he grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around (Y/n). The night had been rather chilly so she thought it was nice, but in Murdock's mind it could also help with carrying the body away without getting blood stains on the couch.
They settled down and began to watch a movie. There was a knife nearby, if only he could reach it without her panicking.. the job would be over before he knew it. His arm, as he reached for the hidden weapon, wrapped around her shoulder and his face got close to hers. Both of them blushed heavily at the position they were in, but neither of them seemed to mind it.
Slowly but surely, they leaned in and their lips met in a warm and sweet kiss. The knife and movie were quickly forgotten as they continued their moment of passion, both of them only separating for quick breaths before coming back for more. This carried on for several minutes before they both finally pulled away, red faced and panting.
"Murdock.." (Y/n) murmured softly, looking into his chocolate brown eyes as he stared back. Embarrassed, he buried his face in the crook of her neck, feeling her warm flesh meet his flushed cheek. (Y/n)’s right hand ascended to his hair, massaging his head while her left embraced him in a hug.
He began to pepper small, chaste butterfly kisses on her neck and lower jaw which made her giggle. He was simply relishing in the glory and warmth that was (Y/n)'s embrace without a care in the world. Her melodic voice reached his ears and he smiled. "I love you, Murdock."
"I.. I love you too."
That night, once again, his victim left his clutches unscathed.
Murdock groaned in anger. Why couldn’t he do it? Why didn’t he let himself harm her? He was a cold blooded killer with a heart and soul as black as the coffee he drank, so why couldn’t he bring himself to go through with his job? As he lay down on his couch, the plush cushions still warm from where the two had been together, he realized the horrific truth.
He was actually in love with his victim, (Y/n) (L/n) and there was nothing he could do about it.
You can see yourself in it.
"So, hypothetically, if you wanted to hide a dead body, would you remove the feet of the victim after their hands or would you not take them at all?"
Murdock looked over at his girlfriend in shock. This was not something he expected to hear from (Y/n) of all people. "Why would you want to remove the feet?"
"Toes have fingerprints too, right? So if you wanted to make sure that the body couldn't be identified by prints, you would want to cut the feet off too, right?"
Murdock laughed a bit and leaned forward. "Why would you need to know the answer to this hypothetical question?"
"I've been really into mystery and Detective shows and novels recently and I was wondering if that was logical."
He smiled at his lover. "Well, I don't think toeprints are used enough in crime labs nor would anyone have active records of them to keep, so I'd say the answer is no. You could leave the feet, but if you're paranoid enough, sure take em."
It was these rare moments he could talk about something pertaining to his job without causing a panic. She still didn't know, nor would she ever if he could help it.
Sometimes, however, he did wonder how she would be as a partner to his work. With her passion for crime knowledge, she could help in so many ways, but alas he needed to keep his dirty work a secret. It was for the best.
Murdock just wanted to be with her and his job prevented so many happy possibilities from happening. He thought once again about the best way to get rid of her but his heart ached at the mere thought of her being gone. He could never hurt her. How could he hurt the one person who made him feel so alive? The thought of (Y/n) leaving him hurt just as much as the reality that he still had a job to do and telling her would be a one way ticket to heartbreak.
Their one year anniversary was coming up and Murdock dreaded it. One year, no, over one year of putting off what was supposed to be an easy kill and run mission. His employer had reached out to him many times asking why the job wasn’t done yet, but how could Murdock tell him that he was in love with and dating the person he was hired to kill? That night, as he lay in his bed after another date with (Y/n), he silently cried because he finally knew how to kill the love of his life.
It’s beautiful until it makes you bleed.
“Happy anniversary, darling.” Murdock invited her into his home, admiring the beautiful woman in front of him. (Y/n) smiled and gave him a warm and comforting hug. The clock on the wall was ticking, irritating the murderous male. It was another reminder of his limited time. Why was he doing this?
He had made dinner for the two of them, cooking her favorite meal which brought a smile to her face. Murdock’s heart panged painfully in his chest. How many more times would he be able to see that happy face? Nevermind. He didn’t want to know.
After dinner came relaxation and he put some nice music on. The couple cuddled on the couch, relishing in the warmth that they both produced. Murdock wanted to be happy, but he couldn’t be. The clock ticked again, and every click made Murdock feel sick. He couldn’t do this.
But he had to… or else she would eventually find out and leave. He couldn’t deal with that pain. He didn’t want to let her go but he needed to.
As he was untangling himself from his lover, a song came up over the radio and (Y/n) smiled excitedly. “Dance with me! I love this song!” The song was a sappy tune about star crossed lovers who wanted to be together but one of them had to leave the other forever. ‘How fitting.’ Thought Murdock as his hands landed on her hips and her arms wrapped around his neck.
They gazed into each other’s eyes as the music played, the pair lazily swaying side to side, completely lost in the moment. Murdock knew that one day, this very scene would be his own personal hell. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to her forehead and then taking her hands as he knelt down on one knee.
(Y/n)’s look of surprise and happiness made Murdock nervous as he pulled out a small leather box. Opening it up, he produced a beautiful ring, black metal with a small red ruby in the middle. With a dry throat and shaky knees, he spoke.
“(Y/n), I love you. There’s no other way to say it. You’ve impacted my life in a way I could never repay. My life changed forever when you let me sit with you at that cafe. I don’t want to imagine my life without you, so will you marry me?”
She nodded happily and threw her arms around him, kissing him on the lips. Murdock couldn’t prevent tears from falling as he held his darling. The ring found its new home on (Y/n)’s left ring finger and the two shared their love together. The song was ending and Murdock’s right hand flicked slightly behind her, producing a knife from inside his sleeve.
With shaky hands and a heavy heart, he drove the blade deep into her back. A small gasp escaped her kiss swollen lips and she looked into his eyes, tears filling her own. “M-Murdock?” she whispered as she fell into his arms, the light leaving her eyes forever.
He had done it. Murdock Iplier had finally completed his year-long task, but it cost him everything. He cursed himself, hugging the limp body of his lover and crying into her shoulder, wishing he would have taken it back. Why did he do this? He loved her and he killed her. His hands were shaking as he took off the engagement ring and hung it around his neck, right next to his pendant.
He sadly carried her body down to a special furnace in his basement where he cremated her body. Many hours and with many tears later he took her ashes, placing them in both a fancy box, and a small portion was placed in a small vial which joined the ring and charm on his necklace.
The murderous man informed his employer that the deed was done, but refused to accept the pay. No amount of money could replace the treasure that he had taken from the world. The world looked so bleak and cold. He could hardly remember the last time he felt like this. The world had seemed so bright and wonderful when she was with him and now his darling, his light, and his world was gone.
He was alone with no one to blame but himself. His heart, once joyful and light, was heavy and as dark as his preferred coffee. (Y/n)’s last look of betrayal and pain was burned into his memory and as he sat on his couch, realizing that her lightly perfumed scent still lingered on the cushioned seat, he held his head in his hands and cried.
Love is an imaginary dagger.
#Murderplier x reader#Murderiplier x reader#Murderplier x female reader#x female reader#Murderiplier x female reader#murderplier#murder mark#murderiplier#heavy angst#angst#sfw#quote from Loki
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Alright, so I started a murderplier x oc fic. Originally it was supposed to be x reader but I didn't like the restrictions I had with this format so I made an OC just for this fic.
I might do a murderplier x reader fic in the near future.
But is here anyone out there who would read it?
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