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mane--attraction · 6 months

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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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mane--attraction · 8 months

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cw somno adjacent. minors dni

You’re laying on your side while slightly propped up, nearly facedown on the pillow, trying to sleep. You’re certainly on your way there, having nearly nodded off a couple of times. You feel the lounger shift as someone sits close behind you and settles in. Then there are fingers over your scalp, massaging and running their hands through your hair. The touch is familiar; you know who this is. You’re tired; it feels nice. You relax, a small smile hidden behind the sheets by your mouth. The longer it continues, the more you relax, melting down and practically dozing off. Gosh, it feels so, so nice, so comforting to be pet like this…

Then, one of his hands slowly deviates, grabbing a bit of hair and tugging gently. Your breath hitches, and you let out a mewl, muffled by the blanket. There’s a moment of pause, then it happens again: a bit of fingers against scalp, lulling you, then a smaller tug. He’s close enough against you that you almost wonder if he can feel you tense both times.

“Do you like that?”

From the way he says it, low and rumbled and with an undercurrent of something sinful, you’re fairly certain he’s not just referring to the hair pulling. You’re tired, so very tired to the point that you don’t know how much you’d move or potentially push someone off. You’re unsure how much you care that such a thing might happen. It excites you, in a strange way. You don’t reply. Perhaps you whimper very quietly.

He doesn’t say anything, simply shifting closer, hips against yours, making his intent clearer, leaning over you. Your eyes are half shut, but you’re certain he’s just observing you. You swear you’re trembling a little, trying to hide that you’re getting turned on by this.

Then, a single finger slowly rounds the curve of your hip, just below your underwear, travelling towards your core. The trembling gets worse, now, and your breathing picks up from the anticipation and your sensitive skin—almost as if you were in a dream already, with how heavy your breaths come.

He stops just before he fully gets close. Your breathing eventually evens out. He kisses the top of your head and lays beside you, no longer pressed against you, and lets you slumber.

#minors dni #f/o x reader #male f/o x reader #x reader #gn reader #lemon #no actual sex but the wording makes it lemon #i've actually had this one for a while but for some reason didn't decide to post it at the time #afab reader #wrote this based off a dream i had but changed some small details #mostly posting this so I have content lol #technically i should put it further out but ehhh ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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mane--attraction · 9 months

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MINORS DNI

"Needy little cumslut.” Very wet sounds of skin on skin fill the room as Dark's hips snap against yours. "Can't get enough, hm?"

You can't speak, panting and moaning into the bed, the evidence of the last two rounds dripping down your trembling thighs.

"Isn't it lucky then—" He hisses, digging his fingers into your hips and slowing down as you tighten around him. "Isn't it lucky that I am more than willing and have more than enough to satisfy your craving."

His consistent throbbing is driving you mad, knowing that he is so close dragging you closer to yet another orgasm. Your fingers twist into the sheets, and you arch your back to better push back and meet his thrusts, encourage him faster again. You whine loudly, and eventually you form a word. "Please!"

Dark chuckles lasciviously. "Aw. What a polite little toy." Hands slide over your body. His haven't moved. "How could I possibly say no?"

You cry out loudly when he starts anew, more intense than before, eyes rolling as you're overwhelmed.

“Although…I could, when you sound so pretty begging for me…”

You hiccup at the thought, your mind almost fracturing from trying to keep focus. “PLEASE!”

His nearly sinister chuckle settles into your bones. “Is that too mean? Hm?” His hand just barely brushes over your sensitive skin, and you let out a pitchy, desperate keen, needing more from his touch. “Don’t worry, pet. I won’t deny you a single drop.”

#lemon #x reader #minors dni #gender neutral reader #dark x reader #decided to leave this a blurb #it sat for a while bc i thought i was gonna go all the way to the end but nah #gn reader #darkiplier x reader

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mane--attraction · 9 months

Text

A/N: uhhhhhhh runs 🏃‍♀️ using the sexual content warning thing for the first time bc I can't put the read more alone above the content on this one lol. I've been sitting on this nearly done for months. Whoops. Enjoy~

Cw: dumbification, some pet play elements (collar, leash, being called "pet"), d/s, messy oral (facefucking), mild bondage, tentacles aka f/o isn't entirely human, mild degradation (just a couple of names sometimes paired with praise), he's just a slight bit mean at one point, lil overstim. Afab reader, gender neutral, no pronouns. Have fun~

Word count: 1697

MINORS DNI! I'M SERIOUS!

~~~~~~~~

Your bell and little charms clink against each other in a soft but steady rhythm as your f/o thrusts into your mouth, pulling you forward with your leash and stopping just short of gagging you. You look up at him with a sort of pleading expression, whining quietly, saliva slipping past the corners of your mouth to trail down your chin and neck. With your arms tied behind your back to prevent you from touching yourself, it also prevents you from cleaning up…something your f/o seems to be very into, if his reaction every time he looks down at you properly is any indication, groaning hotly at the mess he's made of you, watching his length pump in and out of your swollen lips and your eyes roll as you moan.

He holds your hair back with his other hand, but some errant strands cling to your forehead and temples. Not that you care: all your thoughts have slowly been replaced with the feeling of him heavy against your tongue, completely filling your mouth and stretching your jaw; of his scent overwhelming you; of him leaking continuously onto your tongue and down your throat. Your mouth and cunt are leaking equally, a tentacle lying agonizingly still within you. He can feel every time you clench around the intrusion, causing him to throb and moan softly, which causes you to whine and swallow around him, which has him hissing through his teeth: and the cycle repeats.

He could go for an hour, if he wanted to, just to see your brains leak out of you and onto the floor until you're nothing but a needy, desperate puddle. He has, before, but he's already gone for long enough this time. He doesn't think you can last for much longer, either, with the way you're trying to grind down on the tentacle. "Patience, pet," he grits out. "Stop moving."

You still instantly, perfectly obedient in this state of yours, and he grins smugly at how well he's trained you. "Very good."

He deliberately uses the tone that makes heat coil within you, torturing you when you're so turned on that you need him, and you retaliate, if but mildly, by whining in such a way that it increases the vibrations and swallowing when he reaches your throat. He chokes out a curse and pulls a little harsher on your leash, pushing that little bit past where you're used to and holding you there, which has you crying out and clenching wildly in surprise.

"Naughty little slut," he rumbles, "trying to get your reward too soon." He lets you free, just his tip resting on your tongue as he allows you to recover for a few moments before setting up a rather punishing pace. You yelp but melt instantly, eyes rolling as he fucks your mouth.

"If—" he forces out, "if I was in the right mood I'd make you wait longer for it, for what you crave, little one— You're lucky today." He's not certain the words are actually getting through to you, your whorish moan the only indicator that you're at least hearing him. He doesn't attempt to talk anymore, rapidly approaching his climax. You can feel the way his cock throbs more insistently, how his hips stutter in tandem. His grip tightens in your hair, enough to make you wince slightly, but it's all background to you: all you know is him. Your whimpers and other sounds as you try and keep up with the fluid spilling down your chin, combined with your unfocused, cockdrunk expression spurs him on, and he fucks your mouth.

"I'm going to cum, pet."

His strained voice drops an octave, and you shiver, fluttering in excitement. If only you could actively bring him to the brink; all you can really do is press your tongue more firmly against him for the short time you can think about it. You're more than satisfied, however, with the short, sharp snaps of his hips into you, using you to chase that high.

"I am going to cum, and you are going to swallow every drop. Do you understand me?"

He's barely finished speaking and your needy sound of acknowledgement is immediate: you whine at him, and the sound alone is nearly enough to push him over. No, what sends him over is when he hits the back of your throat and your face screws up at the suddenness, throat constricting as you swallow to try and adjust but can't quite. He chokes, lasting a single stroke more before yanking on your leash, burying himself in your mouth with a loud groan, the kind that has you clenching wildly in need, as heat spills down your throat. The harsh pulse of his cock is the only thing you really comprehend, held in place and unable to move, just moan. It's a wonder you don't cum on the spot.

His warning wasn't just a courtesy: he is not a mere man, and you find yourself feeling a little lightheaded the longer you stay where you are, but it's heady, allowing you more focus on his hips twitching, trying to push himself deeper on instinct.

Finally, moments before your head starts to loll, he releases the tension on the leash and pulls back just enough that you can finally taste him, allowed enough movement to bob your head eagerly, swiping for every last drop. He rumbles above you, amused, but he hisses softly at the overstimulation, so he doesn't allow you too much free reign, the hand in your hair holding you firm. Otherwise, you would have continued to suck him off without regard to how much he actually had left to give.

"That's a good little pet," he says hoarsely. "So good for me."

You make a soft, pleased sound, preening at the praise. You give little kitten licks to his head, right at his slit, and he finally pulls you off of him with a pop. You look up at him sweetly, catching your breath, unaware of what a mess you look like…but you look perfect to him. He swipes a bit of cum that’s escaped your lips with his thumb and brings it to you, and you lick it up without a second thought. His previous hunger thaws a bit to let his fondness show through.

“Yes,” he says, “what a good, pretty little pet.” The tentacle inside you wriggles ever so slightly, and your eyes flutter, suddenly reminded of how close you were. His lips twitch with a ghost of a smirk. “And good pets get rewarded, don’t they?”

You feel yourself being lifted off the ground into his arms, the tentacle still firmly in you while his mouth finds yours, kissing you with hunger more restrained than you want, and you kiss him back desperately, encouraging him to let go. You almost don’t care about breathing, but he breaks away long enough to lay you down on the bed, your arms untied at some point in the journey and the sheets clinging to your sweaty skin. His mouth slots over yours once more with that ferocity you were craving, all tongue and teeth, and you melt, doing your best to match it but otherwise just letting him in.

That’s when the tentacle starts moving, throbbing and roiling as it thrusts rapidly, and you let out a loud cry, clinging to him. The squelching issuing from between your legs is obscene, loud and a clear indicator of just how needy you are, yet it’s turning you on, in spite of the flush of your cheeks from the sound. You whimper into the kiss, and he just chuckles.

“Good little pet.” He tugs surprisingly gentle on your bottom lip with his teeth, a fang catching but not injuring. “Good little slut for me.”

You whimper again, panting as you grow closer, a fact he can still feel by the way you flutter consistently around the tentacle. You pull him down to kiss him again, and he obliges you and your desperation, growling softly.

‘You’re so close, aren’t you my little pet?’

His voice is in your head, this time, and you feel yourself drop a bit further into that torpor of pleasure. You nod, sucking on his tongue with what control you have left. Your hips buck with a squeak as the tentacle hits a place that makes you see stars.

You can hear…well, more like sense the chuckle in his voice. ‘Then take your reward, pet. Cum for me.’

It’s not instantaneous, but it doesn’t take that long: not when the tentacle’s throbbing becomes more insistent, not when it speeds up to an almost incomprehensible degree, not when it starts hitting all those sweet spots, not when his thumb reaches your clit and—

You shriek, truly seeing stars as your body bucks madly and clamps down hard on the tentacle that’s still trying to move, fucking you through your orgasm, all the while his thumb rubs little circles into that sensitive nub, moving you along. You don’t realize he’s stopped kissing you, even as you bite your lip and throw your head back, whining as it starts moving into overstimulation.

You start to think you’re done, start to think you’ll fall down from your high, but he presses more firmly, the tentacle only targets the spots that make you moan, and with electricity shooting behind your eyes, nearly forcing them shut, you shrilly shriek and clench even harder around the intrusion, somehow fluttering again. He groans loudly, prolonging it momentarily.

“So good,” he practically moans, brushing your hair out of your face. “Always so good for me.”

You’re too tired in this state to do anything but look up at him blearily, and it’s a different expression than before. Again, softness breaks through his features, and he kisses you gently, as if you’ll break after all that has occurred. He brushes his knuckles along your arm, as if petting you. Later, the two of you can have some more fun. For now, however, you are both more than content to remain like this for a little while longer.

#lemon #x reader #minors dni #male f/o x reader #gender neutral reader #afab reader #as usual i had a certain someone in mind but went with general male f/o #don't be surprised if it's radio silence again for months cuz I've been busy with work #nothing says being out of the loop like forgetting I already had this draft started back when i started the story #and then completely forgetting how to tag the content bc i forgot what to call some of it 😅#glad i had the content tagged previously lol #hopefully the latter half matches the portion i wrote months ago ahsjsn #tentacles

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mane--attraction · 9 months

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SO I JUST. I READ. I JUST READ. T. THE DAMIEN LEMON. AND WHEN I TELL YOU NOTHING HAS HAD ME BLUSHING THAT HARD AND REACTING LIKE THAT IN A LONG TIME. YOU WROTE THAT IN AN EVENING?!?! "THIS FIC IS UNEDITED"?!?! YOU HAVE TO BE A GODDAMN LIAR THERE IS NO WAY /POS. EVERYTHING ABOUT THAT WAS INCREDIBLE. YOU ARE A LEGEND. I - I LITERALLY CAN'T - HFJFJEURHJRJEHEBVEKFNDHEUEBFJHDUDVFJBDHEBFJDHEIBEBRJDHEIEJ I HAD TO TELL YOU WELL DONE AND THANK YOU FOR WRITING THAT AND EVERYTHING ELSE. YOU HAVE A LOVELY DAY/NIGHT/ETC. I AM DEAD

HEHEHEHE 😏😝

Yes, wrote that in an evening >:3 😌 Thank you for the kind words! I appreciate it~ ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

(side note i find it hilarious that most of the asks I've received have been about that one Damien fic)

#tbf none of my fics have been edited except by me lol so I don't know why i wrote that as if i had an editor for anything else #thank you anon~#my work here is done lmao ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ #mun speaks #also im super sorry for not answering this ask sooner i shelved it to write a good answer and then life got busy #<3 #i also wanted to wait until i maybe had something ready in the pipeline since i took so long to answer #if i ever finish one of my other damien fics idk that you guys are gonna survive it lmao ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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mane--attraction · 1 year

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Ah yes, my very late "year in review post" whoops lol (MINORS DNI)

I posted 25 times in 2022

That's 13 more posts than 2021!

18 posts created (72%)

7 posts reblogged (28%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@umbral-archives

@westanthewaterman

@weirdlyhornyforegos

I tagged 25 of my posts in 2022

#gender neutral reader - 9 posts

#mun speaks - 8 posts

#lemon - 8 posts

#x reader - 8 posts

#minors dni - 6 posts

#gn reader - 4 posts

#murdock x reader - 4 posts

#lemonish - 3 posts

#darkiplier x reader - 3 posts

#mun answers - 3 posts

Longest Tag: 130 characters

#okay after thinking about it you may have mentioned the idea as a fic at one point (cuz i know it was brought up for rp) but still

My Top Posts in 2022:

Murderplier/Murdoch spicy headcanons - MINORS DNI

A/N I’ve been holding onto these since... May 5th? Damn lol forgot about them until literally today when I’m making this post. >:P Under read more just in case.

CW: knifes, murder mention, blood mention, gender neutral but there is a period mention (if I need more warnings, let me know)

(read more at the link below)

58 notes - Posted July 21, 2022

A/N: I wrote this at 3am don't look at me

MINORS DNI

Murdock has a habit.

(read more at the link below)

58 notes - Posted November 8, 2022

"Perhaps you are tired of me repeating myself over..."

One spank. You yelp with a jolt.

"...and over..."

Another spank, another cry from you. You swear that slap was harder.

"...and over again," he growls into your ear as he gives one more and you hiss in pain, even as a shudder runs down your spine.

(read more at the link below)

79 notes - Posted February 1, 2022

Technically

(A/N: This has been languishing for a while cuz despite being a drabble I got stuck really quickly; I couldn’t figure out how to make what I wrote mesh with the idea of “someone comes to the door” without it feeling unnecessary. Ah well, another time, mayhaps. Anyway, enjoy~)

(minors dni)

~~~~~

Technically, the head engineer should bunk near the engines, in case of an issue. Technically, in addition to being closer to the bridge, the captain's quarters only have room for one.

(read more at the link below)

147 notes - Posted September 2, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

How they would react to you tying yourself up in ribbon as a gift for them: Actor and Dark

(click the link below to view the headcanons)

157 notes - Posted January 5, 2022

~~~

(posts edited down for length and also to hide most of the naughty stuff lol. also for some reason this recap post removed the read more from everything so the entire post was slapped in there)

What a year! I know I'm (very) late with posting this, but I only refound this recap thing in the last few days of 2022 and then I got busy. My most popular post was the one towards the beginning of the year, and I actually reblogged stuff to this blog that wasn't just that one gifset! Whodathunk! The top five has a pretty good range, which I'm happy about. Thank you to everyone in particular who reblogged stuff and added tags, I appreciate those notes the most. And also those asks, hehe. I live for the yelling at me in my inbox and the tags. Who knows what this year will bring~~ >:3

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#yes this is a threat >:33 #minors dni #I've had this saved for quite a while i just keep forgetting to post it #not fic #i don't remember what my tag was lol #I'm honestly surprised i posted more than the previous year #lemon #i might have something soon i might not. idk #sorry to post after a month and it's not a fic ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#also sorry for the ping i realize now i probably shoulda made jt not @ the three of you just in case #unless you dont care in which case uhhh sorry still anyway ig dbndnd

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mane--attraction · 1 year

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Playfighting headcanons addendum

A/N: I had meant to add Engineer Mark to the original list but completely forgot and ran out of energy for it. These are a slightly different style than the last ones cuz that's just how they ended up lol. Once again, MINORS DNI

~~~~~

Engineer Mark:

Is reluctant at first, because you're his captain! He could never fight you!

Ignoring of course the whole confrontation at the warp core

He's also secretly afraid this is a trap and you're going to turn this around on him and issue him demerits or worse

After reassuring him a few or twenty times, he agrees

He still throws the fight a couple of times, and you have to huff at him and insist he plays along or else you might actually give him demerits

(you wouldn't actually, but it gets him to listen)

After that, it becomes more interesting

Bit by bit, you find yourself losing ground to him as he starts pushing the boundaries of how much of his strength he's allowed to use

You thought the two of you were pretty evenly matched, with you in the slight upper hand, but it seems your dear engineer has done more manual labor than you expected

Some days, he's more determined than others to be the victor; if it is indeed one of those days, you find your strength waning as the wrestling drags out

Before long, you find yourself with your arms above your head and a knee pressed against your body between your legs

"So, Captain…to the winner go the spoils?"

If you don't push him a lot, it's a fifty-fifty shot as to whether or not you'll win, because as already established, he will let you win, even if you do manage to convince him to not hold back

Night

Appears to have zero interest

"Why should I have to engage in physical aggression?" and oh my outfit will become all disheveled and he can't have that

Such a drama queen

But agree he does, shucking his coat, and you realize partway through that you're a bit more over your head than you realize

Sure, he prefers not to be physically aggressive, but he can more than hold his own if you push him enough

And push him you do; it's so easy to get a rise out of him that you resort to your usual teasing, but now he's decided to make an example of what happens when you push him too far

He…may or may not have other supernatural abilities to give him the upperhand (i.e. tentacles)—when you notice that spiral light up on his face, you somehow know it doesn't bode well for you (in terms of winning)

He is stronger at night than during the day (shocker, I know). As such, you're more likely (and probably will) win against him during the day as opposed to at night

You may have had to teasingly insult him in order to get him to play fight, or suggest that maybe you'd go to another "god" who will take you up on the offer—and with his pride on the line, plus a slight bit of possessiveness at you being his little human, he decided he had to take you up on it

There's a ferocity that comes out in moments like this, usually hidden by his whining and dramatics

(You'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on)

Your limbs are held down by shadows, tentacles made of pure night sky, and that spiral glows threateningly as he leans in, his grin much sharper than you're used to seeing (figuratively and literally)

"Little mortal…shall you atone for your misgivings?"

Again, your chances are pretty split on winning, depending on the time of day, how far you push him, and his overall mood that day. Maybe put him in his place for once lol

~~~~~~

As a recap: Murdock and Dark are the hardest to win against, followed by Actor and Night on certain days thanks to their supernatural abilities, and the other three I wrote about (Illinois, Damien, and Engineer) are tied as to whether or not you'll win, depending on the circumstances (although based on strength alone it would go Illinois, Engineer, then Damien).

#gender neutral reader #x reader #minors dni #night x reader #engineer x reader #technically this is lemonish but i tagged the last one as lemon so I'm gonna remain consistent #lemon #lemonish #gn reader #or y'know just put both lol #headcanons #didnt mean for the dialogue to be structured similarly but that's just how it ended up being #i can't decide if i want night to be mark's height or taller than reader a more significant amount #engineer mark x reader

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mane--attraction · 1 year

Text

Oh yeah! Important addendums and headcanons to accompany the last two stories (cw knife, minors dni):

Murdock is absolutely intending on using that knife on the bedside table to cut away the ribbon covering you unless you tell him otherwise about your difficulties in finding it. And if it starts to unravel, he'll just retie it…but much more securely. You definitely won't be going anywhere, now. :)

Murdock has a glass shower door. Not frosted, either—completely see-through. Also he may just leave the bathroom door propped open more than usual if he showers when you're around ;)

Additionally, he has a detachable shower head. Make of that what you will~

As a rule, Murdock sleeps nude when he's able and comfortable. (Which is to say, his bed and yours, if you let him in.) What better way to frighten away potential intruders than by being a tall, muscled man who is very naked coming at you with a knife hidden by his bedside? Lol. But it is mostly the comfortability thing

Also since mans has a high libido and all, it makes it easier when he's gotta take care of himself in the middle of the night or in the morning ;)

#tw knife #lemon #murdock x reader #minors dni #x reader #gender neutral reader #technically it's lemonish but since it's relating to the last two i feel more comfortable with it under lemon #cw bondage #kinda #okay also maybe that last bullet point is pushing it lol #murdock deserves a bed knife. as a treat #both for smexy times and self defense

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mane--attraction · 1 year

Text

Murdock has a dream. :) The kind of dream that has... consequences upon waking.

A/N: Uhhh yeah don’t look at me again lmao. I have decided I shouldn’t be let near a keyboard.

558 words. Kitten as a pet name. No pronouns for reader. Reader isn't physically present.

MINORS DNI

Murdock wakes up in a sweat, heart pounding and eyes rolling back into his head. His hand is already on his bare cock, throbbing and rock hard, before he registers what he's doing. In his confusion, he clings to the remnants of his dream, dredging up details bit by bit.

Your lips, hot and wet on his neck, trailing a path upwards. Little bites more implied than felt. The weight of you heavy on his crotch.

A moan pulls from him, deep and rumbling as he forces himself to slow down, his pace a bit too fast, too desperate. Not yet.

Pre lies sticky on his thigh, coats his length. Murdock has half a mind to reach for his lube, but with the amount spilling over his fingers, he might not need it tonight.

Your little smirk as you leaned in to kiss him, turning into your breath washing over the column of his neck. The way you rolled your hips to make him hard. How you moaned his name the way he hoped you would—

His hips stutter, and he kicks off the blankets, the fresh air chilling him, but that doesn’t matter to him right now as he pumps his hand, imagining it’s you, wishing—no, needing it to be you.

He swears you sank down onto him, took his cock inch by inch until he was flush inside you, throwing your head back in bliss as he stretched you so perfectly—

Murdock moans louder this time, unabashedly, thrusting up into his fist. He might be pulling from his own fantasies now instead of just his dream, but in his tired, aroused state, it doesn’t matter to him.

Oh how you’d whimper for him, beg for him to take you, to claim what is his—

“That’s it,” Murdock hisses to himself, eyes screwed shut. “That’s a good kitten—”

Heavy breathing and the sound of natural slickness fills the air, once more growing faster, more eager.

“That’s it. Take it. Take my cum. Needy thing.” He groans, low and long. “Fuck. I’m gonna fill you up—” He chuckles, its usual sharpness dulled by the threat of sleep. “I’m going to fill you up with my cum—”

“Please,” he imagines you begging breathlessly, “oh fuck, please—!”

It’s the thought of your pleading eyes, your desperation, your need matching his that sends him over the edge, eyes rolling again as he groans, his cum easily shooting up over his fist as he fucks it through his orgasm. It lands on his stomach, even up by his chest, and, despite his best efforts, on his sheets. He doesn’t stop until his muscles quit rippling and it almost hurts to touch himself. Still, he gingerly, lazily pumps himself, imagining how you’d be sent on your own spiral, twitching above him before collapsing on his chest. He laughs, a lavacious smile spreading over his face. No more would his seed go to waste on his fingers and bed.

Murdock lifts his hand and spreads his fingers, watching himself drip from the digits. One day. One day it will be more than just a vivid dream that frustrates him in the night. One day he won’t have to fantasize about you taking him deep.

One day, you will be his. But patience is key…and patience is something he has much of.

Murdock stretches over for some tissues, cleaning up just enough so he can pull the sheets back over his nude body. He smirks, rolling onto his side, and falls into a satisfied slumber.

#murdock x reader #x reader #gender neutral reader #lemon #minors dni #yeah i shouldnt be let near a keyboard at a time like this sbshsjks #I've scheduled this cuz i needed to space out my writing in case i go for another long stretch #even tho i didnt schedule it nearly as far out as i could have #hopefully this read more thing works and doesn't backfire in getting people to see and read it #(the correct people obviously cuz NO MINORS)

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mane--attraction · 1 year

Text

The Perfect Present

With Murdock away from home for the day, you decide to give him a little something when he comes back.

A/N: Second year in a row using this prompt as the first writing post of the year lol. This time I knew it was going to be late, though. Certainly didn't expect to write this much lmao. Happy new year~

Word count: 2066

(Gender neutral, afab)

MINORS DNI

~~~

You’re starting to think this was a foolish idea.

The silk ribbon slips every time you attempt to tie a knot, not to mention losing tension from where you’ve wrapped it. Finding a ribbon this color was nearly impossible to begin with, for whatever reason—it seems that today is just deciding to be difficult.

You huff as the silk falls again from your hip, backtracking to pull it taut against your skin. Everything has to be perfectly in place, and you have no idea when Murdock will be back, so you have to be fast and accurate…only one of which seems possible at a time. Printed reference pages litter the bed, but they cannot make up for a lack of skill.

"This is impossible," you groan to yourself, scanning ahead for the upteenth time. "I'm really supposed to be able to do this by myself?!" It couldn't be that hard, you originally thought, but boy were you wrong.

The longer you take, the more you're convinced that you won't be able to finish this in time, let alone looking exactly like the photos. The buzzing of your phone on the nightstand seems to confirm this; whether or not it's actually Murdock texting you is irrelevant. You set your jaw and, with hands annoyingly trembling from nerves, you wind the cool ribbon against your warm flesh. It's now or never.

***

Murdock's cabin is a sight for sore eyes after the day he's had: while not a full-on reconnaissance, which in this case would have drawn him further from home, his mark still had an incredibly inexplicable talent for frustrating and foiling him at every turn. A warm shower, a warm bed, and a warm pair of arms will set him right, he knows. Well, and a little something else, but it's wrapped up in the other things and almost always a given. Easily.

The corner of Murdock's mouth quirks at the thought, pulling into the garage next to his motorcycle. Your car is still on the driveway, just as he saw last on the cameras before he started driving. Not that you really went anywhere once night fell; and you never ventured far when Murdock went scouting.

Or "hunting," for that matter.

The house is quiet when he enters, which only mildly strikes him as odd. He calls out your name, but you don’t respond. It's not exactly late, but sleeping now isn't out of of the realm of possibility: if you were particularly tired, you'd pass out on the couch waiting for him. He's carried you to bed sometimes, careful not to wake you. It didn't take him long to learn how much it took to wake you, though.

However, you aren't on the couch either, which simply confuses him further. You haven't left, and no one else has entered the house, so you must be in either the study or the bedroom (he would have heard the shower by this point if you were in there). Still not unusual places, but not always common. Luckily, they are the same direction, so he wastes no time in cautiously and silently striding down the hall in socked feet, where he encounters—

An errant piece of clothing, lying on the floor. He raises an eyebrow and squats all the way down to pick it up.

It's your shirt.

Glancing up to think and for more clues, he spots a sporadic trail of clothing that bypasses the study and, presumably, leads straight to the bedroom. His instincts kick in, and he outright stalks down the hall, following the tantalizing path.

Shirt. Bottoms. Socks. Undergarments. Panties.

The last one sits right at the open door of the bedroom, almost as if you’ve just stepped out of them. He picks them up and turns them over in his hand, noting with interest that they are the nice pair he spotted in the laundry last week before pocketing them.

Murdock's bed isn't in direct line of sight of the door; anyone on it can keep an eye on the doorway, but from where he stands now, he can't see in. The light is on, however, so he knows you're in there and awake somewhere. It’s soft, but he hears the bedsheets rustling. Curiosity catches up with him, and he finally enters the room.

You lay on the bed, propped up against the pillows, tied up like a gift in a maroon silk ribbon—his specific maroon. It crisscrosses your body sumptuously, framing you while also hiding a particular area behind a few lengths of the material, wide enough to obscure it completely. You've bound your legs bent, thigh to calf, and your arms remain in front. The bow is right by your chest. It’s clear to him that you struggled with the operation, with the way the ribbon still has some slack and the couple knots he can see not looking right, but that isn’t a problem, of course. He's impressed enough you managed all this with one ribbon. You wait until he makes eye contact with you to grin sheepishly and say, “Surpriiise. Can't have the holidays without a present."

His full expression is hidden from you, but his eyebrows shoot up over his glasses. Then, after he’s had time to devour the sight before him, that familiar hungry grin spreads across his lips, and he chuckles. "All this for me, kitten?"

Your cheeks flush, and instead of sarcasm like usual, you reply shyly, "Yes, sir."

His breathing hitches subtly, nostrils flaring and hands flexing just enough to match, and his cock twitches, starting to fill out his pants. Ah. So it's one of those days.

Perfect.

“Well. Who am I to say no to a present as pretty as this?” Measured steps bring him to the bedside, allowing him to appraise you once more. You squirm a little during the silence, and when he removes his sunglasses, revealing the burning desire in his eyes, he sees your throat bob as you swallow. It just makes his grin sharper. “After all the effort you went through…” Murdock slips a gloved finger between your skin and the ribbon on your leg, sliding it upwards, towards that which you’ve hidden from him. You press your lips together, and your chest rises and falls a little faster. He slides his hand back and snaps the ribbon against you, and you yip quietly.

He snickers. You pout. “Murdock…”

He responds by kissing you, not bothering to pretend to hold back, lips pressing against yours insistently as his hand grips your thigh. You melt almost instantly under the intensity, a mewl caught in your throat. He parts from you sooner than either of you would like as an idea occurs to him.

“It does seem I need to teach you how to tie better knots, sweetheart.” His breathing is also a little heavier, a teasing smile pulling at his lips even as his eyes veil. “Maybe a hands-on lesson is in order, hm?”

You don’t answer him at first, taking in how excited he is at the idea, and you simply bite your lip and nod. His rumbling chuckle, the kind he knows gets under your skin, has you inhaling sharply, enough to be audible. Something akin to pride fills him at that. It takes so little to have you wrapped around his finger. And, to a certain extend, him around yours. “Good.”

Murdock dips into the nightstand drawer, the one with the toys, and fishes through it for something, also placing a blade specifically for these activities on the nightstand top. There is, frankly, a rather absurd number of toys in there, simply because he can’t be bothered to put all of them back where they belong. One never know what might be needed when.

He straightens back up with a bullet vibe in his hand, and your brow crinkles at the sight. He half climbs onto the bed and kisses you again, hands both sliding up your thighs. His tongue is insistent for entrance, and you let him in easily, eager to continue what he started earlier. Murdock slides the vibe beneath the ribbon crisscrossing over your core, distracting you by filling your mouth with his tongue. You moan, trying to grab at him with your bound hands to pull him closer, when suddenly the toy comes to life, and you let out a sharp noise in surprise as you shudder. This is the idea he had in mind.

When he pulls away this time, the toy clipped securely, he’s grinning wickedly, watching your face as you adjust to the vibrations. He purposefully set it a notch higher than you might be able to handle for an extended period of time.

“M-murdooock—” you whine, biting your lip and trying to school your breathing. He simply kisses your forehead with more chasteness than you expect him to muster.

“My little present is going to have to wait, unfortunately.” You give him those pleading eyes that he loves to draw from you when he’s being a tease as he slides off the bed. “I have to get cleaned up after the day I’ve had.” He pats your cheek. “You understand, don’t you, kitten? Wouldn’t want to dirty up something as pretty as you.” He pauses, then chuckles to himself. “Well. Not in that way.”

Your cheeks have darkened further. You try and whine for him again. “Sir—”

“Shh. I’ll be back quickly, kitten, don’t you worry.” Murdock sheds his coat and drapes it over the hook on the back of the door where he always keeps it. “Patience is a virtue, my pretty one.” He flashes you one final grin before taking his leave into the bathroom.

***

You don’t care what he said, he’s taking way too long.

To be frank, any amount of time would be too much with how strong the vibe is, and while he can’t hear you in the bathroom, you know for a fact he’s touching himself at the idea of you all tied up with a toy teasing you. But you also know that he won’t dare jerk himself off. No, he needs you too much to do that. And that gives you some weird sense of pride…as well as turns you on. You’re surprised you’re not soaking through the ribbons covering your core.

The water finally shuts off, but the silence, broken only by the bullet vibe and your occasional whimpers, seems to stretch on forever. You glance at the reference sheets you shoved to the ground, littering the floor, but they don't offer much of a distraction, flipped around and obscured.

Then, Murdock emerges, clothed only in a towel, slung low around his waist and almost threatening to fall at any moment. His messy hair still drips some water onto his shoulders as he leans against the doorway, watching you as you shudder and pant. The urge to run your fingers through that mop of hair is strong, but not as much as you need him right now. Your eyes dip down over his toned form to the towel again, for half a moment trying to see if you can tell how hard he is, and this time, he notices.

“Like what you see, sweetling?” Murdock stalks closer, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I know I do.”

You can’t help the shiver that passes through you, eyelashes fluttering. “Please, Murdock—”

“What did I say about patience being a virtue?” He properly climbs onto the bed, adjusting himself to loom over you. “I would have thought that this—” he presses the vibe against your clit, and a high-pitched keen pulls itself from you as your back arches “—would have taught you patience.”

“Oh fuck, fuck—!” you squeak, and Murdock chuckles hungrily, letting off on the additional pressure.

“Soon enough, sweetheart, I promise.” His hands roam, unabashedly grabbing at your flesh and kneading, and you moan breathily. “But presents like you deserve to be savored, unravelled piece by piece…” He leans in until your lips nearly touch, holding back when you try and lean forward to kiss him. “...and completely and utterly undone.” The look on his face is pure sin, dark and predatory and full of lust. You’re drowning in it, lost between him and the vibrations. “And trust me, kitten: I intend to enjoy my gift to the fullest.”

Murdock’s mouth devours yours, and you are gone.

#murdock x reader #lemon #minors dni #x reader #murderplier x reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader #this man's voice felt so inconsistent esp towards the end lol 😅 i think the couple word changes i made helped but dang #sometimes it felt like elements of dark or loki or damien slip thru but that's probably cuz I've been writing them longer #i havent had this problem with the other murdock stories so im not sure why it happened w this one #aside from it being subject matter i covered with dark (and actor) so im trying to make it different than those reactions #(even tho there is obviously some overlap)#afab reader

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