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jeannewritessometimes · 1 year

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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.

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.”

#bloodlust🩸#sawyer is spicy #other people's writing #DJDHHEHEEH HUBBA HUBBA #ME WHEN. ME WHEN. ME WHEN I'M GAY

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jeannewritessometimes · 1 year

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A Voidborne Heat || [Darkiplier x AFAB!Reader]

In which you offer Dark your body to use as stress relief for his voidborne breeding rut.

I finished this fuckin thing like 5 months ago after working on it off and on for over a year. This is Pyre Brand Breeding Kink as per usual, but I want to preface that his cum doesn’t work at all, the risk is entirely superficial and played up. Both he and Reader know this.

Rating: NSFW MINORS DNI

AFAB!Reader!/Femme

Pairing: Darkiplier (Markiplier CU) x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: Heavy breeding/risk kink, some dubcon, mild dumbification, size kink, petnames/use of girl, pred/prey, chase, reader has a vagina, mentions of fertility/risk/etc, aphrodisiac, creampie, unprotected sex, tentacles, restraints, dom/sub, etc.

Eldritch monster dick. Cum doesn’t work.

Word Count: 6500+

Keep reading

#other people's writing #sawyer is spicy #HEED THE TAGS Y'ALL #I'M. THIS IS WAY TOO HOT OMG

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jeannewritessometimes · 1 year

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For anyone interested, I posted a little something from a personal au I'm working on over on AO3. It's an OC story so I'm not posting it on here, but it’s just straight smut.

It's Dark x OC x Murdock

Here's the link but please mind the tags before reading!

#other people's writing #WOAH I'M. THAT'S. WOW. I'M. GOOD GOD. /POS #sawyer is spicy #bloodlust🩸

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jeannewritessometimes · 1 year

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:) it’s still a S name day so it’s still Suck Titty Saturday

But imagine lovin up on Eric’s chest [wink wonk] while he shivers and whimpers, holding your head there, maybe in the camp meeting room after a meeting, maybe he came to your cabin to ask a question, all you both know is he has to stay quiet. . . Don’t want people finding out the arts and crafts councilor is a whore for you 😇

Art - Eric Derekson x GN!Reader

It is not suck titty saturday and sunday but I hope this suffices <3 It’s been a long time since I’ve full on wrote smut, so I’m a little rusty. I got very carried away. Anyways art counselor Eric for the win.

NSFW

Word Count: 2800+

CWs: negative self talk from Eric, use of good boy, use of darling, lots of praise, nipple play, handjob, soft aftercare (can i get a projection whoop?)

Eric hadn’t been there for much. Really, he just wanted to ask a couple of questions about the meeting that you arranged. Google was insistent about someone holding regular weekly meetings to discuss plans for the upcoming activities at the camp. He had come in late and missed the first section dedicated to the water activities regarding the lake and pool. This was important due to the amount of children of various ages staying here. As such everyone needed to be up to date, including him the art counselor.

He felt ashamed as everyone, or was it only a few, turned their eyes to look at the creaking. Eric excused himself before putting himself at the nearest chair. Somehow getting next to Wilford in all his pink glory and Dark in all his unamused seriousness. He could tell it had been a long day for all of them. Everyone in their sweaty nonsense from the heatwave. It was unbearably hot. Yet, their composure was focused on you and he had to pull himself together. Pay attention.

You certainly weren’t as you watched took his seat. Poor thing no more than shaken leaf from the few eyes that turned. Barely lifting his head to look at you as you opened your mouth again. It all kept getting stuck. A fumble in your own words staring directly at him.

“Looks like this weather isn’t the only thing about to get hot and heavy!” Wilford quipped and nudged Eric. Being rattled from his thoughts into the situation that made his skin crawl.

It didn’t help that you were staring, losing words as they approached and floating back down when some snickering ensued. Eric wanted to sink into the ground and be consuming by the on masses of dirt. They’re laughing at him. His appearance disheveled, even some of his top buttons undone from said heatwave. He looked so unprofessional compared to everyone else.

“Laugh it up. Haha, okay, as I was saying before I was RUDELY interrupted—” you muttered off, continuing the presentation from before, acting like nothing had happened.

That’s when Eric came to your cabin after the meeting was dismissed. Spending majority of his time outside where the fireflies started to come out, his gut twisting itself up. Ticking down where he would have to knock. He needed to fix this. Say something for the way he acted.

It wasn’t as simple as just knocking on the door. No, no, he needed to be ready for anything. What if you had decided that you didn’t want to talk to him anymore? He didn’t know if he could take you not coming to see him in art house anymore. He enjoyed the company especially when the children had made a mess. He hated to tell them no when their faces lit up as colors bled on the paper.

It wasn’t totally irrational, right?

Eric paced in front of the door, taking into consideration what he will say. Setting up a script that should be simple enough to follow. He could do this. He was going to knock on that door and save what must be the end of the friendship.

“Eric? You okay?”

Okay, change of plans. Eric meekly turned to face you and all the thoughts in his head.

“H-Hey, um, how are you do-doing right now?” He reached for his handkerchief as support.

“I’m okay, do you need something Eric? You’ve been out here quite awhile.” You leaned against the door frame.

Eric wanted to turn around, run away, and never show that face of his again. However, he persisted, “Yes, I need to talk to you. Can I come in?”

You smiled and gestured your arms in a wide swing. Playfully purring, “Be my guest.”

That is how he ended up in the middle of the cabin with his hands wrapped taut against the handkerchief. His prosthetics loomed with each step further in. Dragging. Waiting. Simple words. All he needed was simple words. He could do that. Couldn’t he?

“I see you, um, decorated the place since I had been here last.”

“Thanks, I took your advice on the colors. Since I know you are so good with those.” A small jest on your end as you place the shoes near the door. Couldn’t have a repeat of a cleaning day for yourself. That was a nightmare.

Eric forced a chuckle, hoping for it come out more believable than his brain was telling, “Really? W- Well I’m glad you came in for that lesson then.”

“Yep, you really know your stuff there,” Facing Eric provides his hunched posture, clenching the handkerchief close to his heart.

One must be careful when approaching the frightened thing, careful about where you landed in his sights. All the same, he jumps as your hand rests on shoulder and when his apprehensive gaze lands, you smile.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for them to laugh at you,” He hides his face with his hands, mumbling, “I didn’t mean to be late.”

“Eric, I don’t care that you were late.”

“You don’t?”

“No, of course not. You’re usually there early.”

“T-Then why were you staring at me?” Eric pondered this. You weren’t upset.

A question for the century. You bit your lip, mirroring Eric’s tight hands near his upper chest. Oh that beautiful chest of his. The way his collarbones highlight how they flexed in the light. Often, he wore patterned button-ups that covered up what his pecs were hiding. Getting a glimpse when the heat was getting to him made your eyes wander. They wanted to know more.

“You really want to know?” Huffing, you run a hand through your head.

Eric didn’t have time to answer that question before he was hitting against the wall. The force applied taken him by surprise. Unintentional squeak as your hand stood firmly where his hip bone jutted out and one gripping his shoulder. A sharp inhale at that hungry look written all over your face.

Your lips lick over your next words, “You are so distracting. You are so damn cute and I just want to eat you up.”

Eric blinked and breathing hitched at the confession. His eyes briefly flickered to your lip and back to your eyes. Staring intensely into his. Like receiving something you had wanted for a long time.

“Tell me what you want,” The tone you taken pleading him to answer. You needed to hear him say it. “Tell me so I can stop staring at you.”

Eric’s mouth went dry, your breathing heavy on his mind. The way you are looking at him. It was clear the desire from how hot you had become but the restrain reserved for him. All this for him. For him.

“I want....I want you.” Eric looked at you, heartbeat loud in his ears, “I-If you’ll have me.”

“It would be my pleasure.”

Your hands move from their resting state to undo the rest of his buttons. Pesky things that will only get in the way. Admiration was not only for the eyes but the body to know. That you were going to prove to him.

You kissed his jaw, listening his breathing get all messy. His heart under your touch pushing aside the undone shirt. His bare chest all for you to adore. You hummed, pleased at it.

Eric shivered at the your fingers took their time pressing into his pecs down to his stomach. Tracing all the dips and tiny scars present. They aren’t that present to the human eye but to the hand learning his skin, it was all so fascinating.

“Are you sure this is okay?”

He nodded, “Yes.”

Wasting no more time, you set your mouth to work. Kissing from his neck towards his nipple. Nipping at places experimentally. Eric keened at all those sensitive places that are being committed to memory. No, there is no way you would forgetting this anytime soon. Your mouth biting and sucking near his areolas.

“I’m surprised you’re not familiar with red by now, Eric.” He whined up against the wall and looking at how his chest was now a scatter of color. Hues of red and purple being provided by your warm mouth. A touch down his sides, dragging the nails ever so slightly.

“You should be careful how loud you’re being, I wouldn’t want the other counselors to see what’s mine.”

He found himself looking as you mark him up. Taking time to appreciate what was on display in that meeting. A shy blank canvas. So inviting, just waiting for you to color the supple skin.

“P-Please….” Eric’s head tilts back as you go back to sucking gently around his nipple. Your fingers pinching the other nipple making sure they get equal amount of affection. He squirms under all this attention to his nipples and letting out those little mewls.

“What a good boy. You’re doing so well for me.” The praise washes over him and it only makes him more flushed. The strain of his cock against his pants becoming unbearably tight. Those words…

A good boy. Your good boy.

He whines, he wanted to be your good boy. Show you what a good boy he is.

Tell him more what a good boy he is.

You pop off and lean back to examine what you’ve been painting across his chest, “You’re such a work of art. Don’t you know that?” You trail your hands down towards his waist, feeling the skin quiver under your unrelenting touch.

“Please, please t-touch me.” Eric begged. He couldn’t look you in the eye, not when you scanned his body. Memorizing how he reacted when you continue to tease his skin. The feeling of goosebumps raising every time your hands decide to linger just a little bit longer. Nails following your every move.

Oh, you couldn’t have that. You tilt his chin to face you, a little too smug look that he whimpered at, “Since you asked so nicely. How could I refuse my good boy?”

Eric shuddered, holding his breath when your fingers dipped down beneath his waistband. His eyes trying to focus but between your mouth back on his nipple and your fingers grazing over his cock, he couldn’t help but moan.

“Such pretty noises you make for me,” your own voice faltering, processing the whimpers while your thumb spreads out his precum, “My sweet boy.”

Eric bucked into your hands and covered his mouth. Grinding against your strokes, trying so hard to stay quiet. You only glide your tongue to his other nipple as a response to his cute attempts at holding back.

Biting down earns a muffled moan and a hand tugging at your hair. The encouragement goes far when you speed up your hands, savoring the way he twitches under it. Eric bites his hand, groaning at the building pleasure inside.

“I-I, f-fuck—” Eric grunts from a particular flick of your wrist, “please, please, don’t stop.”

All his pleading has made your movements more erratic, your own heat catching all the noises that spill from his mouth. How could you deny him what he so clearly wanted? Not when he was being so obedient.

“So good. Keep telling me what you want, baby.” Breathlessly lingering over his shoulder, whispering into his ear as your mouth finds its next victim on his neck. Eric tilts his neck for easy access and to focus on not falling when his knees buckle.

He felt like putty in your hands. Something for you to shape and form. Watching you through half lidded eyes while you made him feel so good. Your fingers being sure to not fall behind only coaxing out those higher pitched moans that delighted your being. He never sounded so sweet than the mess you were making him.

Eric buried his head into your neck. A ball of fire as he rocked his hips into your quickening strokes. His haze a panting and gasping that is all on display. You could hardly contain the throbbing coming from your own arousal. But focusing all that aching desire on Eric was the goal. It was about him. How he fueled that passion when you watched him work each and every day. The way his hands paint and chip across various forms of wood. The way the sweat would trickle down his face, unbuttoning his shirt to let the wind cool down his skin.

You wanted to make him your magnum opus. Just as he done those late nights when you watched him clean those familiar art supplies.

Eric whining of your name brings you out of your own breathlessness with his breath fanning over your neck. Placing a few kisses in between his sinful noises. Fuck, he’s so cute.

“What was that? You have to speak up, darling.”

“’M not gonna last,” He writhed against you, grinding his cock for a little more friction, “Please make me cum.”

Groaning as your hands went to work on him, you pulled from his neck to look into his eyes. They were melting in your presence, his skin flushed and breath uneven.

You leaned in, closing the gap as he moaned in your mouth. Capturing his bottom lip in between your teeth and pulling back. Peering at how he was losing his mind. He stuttered out incomprehensible words as you kiss from the corners of his mouth to his cheeks, letting him chase that high. His hips rutting, your own hand slick with all of him.

Eric cries of pleasure mixing into one another as he continued to babble about how good you make him feel. He can’t even see straight as it all starts to crash his vision doing what makes him feel the best. He’s so close. He can almost taste it. The fervent way his cock responds to each thrust and you stroking back down his shaft. A little more. Just a little more— then you murmur in his ear.

“That’s it. Be a good boy and cum for me.”

Oh.

Pushed by your words, Eric goes still with a final wail as he came into your hand. His oversensitivity peaking as the final few flicks from your wrist. Leaning forward to rest his heaving heart as it pounds against his ribs. An anchor in an otherwise wobbly feeling. He lifts to look at you as you shift about.

Retrieving your hand, you examine before licking it off. Making sure to capture the pretty boy’s attention as you stare into those gooey eyes. Eric squirms at the sight of your tongue taking in your fingers. A flicker back in his abdomen to let him know exactly what you were tantalizing.

A change in gravity as Eric slumps forward. His knees not quite recovering from standing and weight pushed on his prosthetics. Of course, you are right there to support him. Guiding him towards the couch and gently placing him down. Already planning to get a water that awaits in the fridge. However, when you return, you no more sit down than Eric is pulling you into a hug.

“Woah! Hey there, you okay?”

Eric nods nuzzling into your chest, “I’m okay. Just a little shaky. I-It’s, uh, been a little while.”

You accept the affection by placing a tiny kiss ontop of his head. Gently caressing his back, noting how loosened up it is from it’s former rigid state. Eric sighs in content.

He liked this.

Liked the feeling of being cared for so tenderly. The way your fingers worked on just below his shoulder blade. When a steady rhythm is set, retreating to his scalp and working over it. Eric hums a bit. But...isn’t he supposed to do that for you? Did he deserve to sit here all tuckered out when you did most of the work?

He props himself on his elbows to approach in a small tone, “Y-You’re not mad, are you?”

“Of course not baby. Why would I be mad?” You brush a bit of hair out of his face to examine the now worried boy in your arms.

“I didn’t do anything for you. A-And you did so much for me.”

“Shhhhh, it’s okay.” You cup his cheeks and hold his downtrodden gaze, “I don’t want anything. This is about you, hm?”

“M-Me? But I didn’t do anything to deserve it!”

Pressing your foreheads together, affirming that, “Of course you did. You were my good boy. My good boy that let me make my art.”

Eric paused, “I...did?”

A chuckle humors itself as boop his nose with your own, “Yep, you sure did. I am so proud of you.”

Eric stammered out words but nothing compared to the way he clung onto you. Hiding the embarrassing squeaks in the fabric of your shirt, trying to come up with anything. Proud. You are proud. All words went out of his head and into his heart. A swelling up inside. Oh, you were so proud of him.

Eric could barely contain his tears spilling out, “Thank you.”

Being good to him was easy, after all...

“Anything for my masterpiece.”

#sawyer is spicy #THIS IS SO GOOD HSJDJDJD I'M PUNCHING THE GROUND /POS

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jeannewritessometimes · 1 year

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writers will be like "here's my current wip! can't wait to share more :)" and then you never hear about it again

#me with the murdock fic i wrote two chapters for #sawyer is yelling !!

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jeannewritessometimes · 1 year

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Hi! Would you consider doing another Actor/Dark fic? It's really fun when it's Dark who does a bunch of teasing and acts all innocent and smug about it, so maybe something like that? They could be at an event of some kind and Actor gets so riled up that he drags him into a private room or closet or something >:3 I don't mind who gets to top, but Actor is kind of a really cute bottom..... ;)

These rivals fuck sometimes, idk what to tell you.

Warnings: semi-public sex, twin cocks, public teasing

Being cast as the villain made it so Dark was frequently involved in various social events by Mark's side. These events often served as promotion and networking, and they really didn't enjoy it. It wasn't that they were against the idea, it was how overwhelming it could be. It was how often they felt people's eyes bore into their head. Like they knew something was off, though Dark took care to blend in.

Dark swirled wine in their glass as Mark chattered on, getting an idea on how to occupy themself while people politely ignored them.

They started off easy, passing by Mark and brushing his back. He barely noticed.

They held out a chair for him, their long, graceful fingers brushing his backside. That was more like it. Mark looked up, surprised. Dark pretended to ignore him.

They sat there and ate, perfectly mimicking humans and how they behave. Their foot drifted to Mark's leg, then to his thigh, then just barely, they pressed their knee to his crotch.

"A-ahem-" Mark sputtered, "As I was… saying… They've been a great co-star all these years."

Dark smiled into their glass as Mark shot them a pointed glare. As if demanding they don't do this in front of the others. But that's what made it fun.

After dinner, they get a little more bold. They adjust his tie for him, tightening it a little more than normal. Mark's face burned, unsure whether they were trying to kill or flirt with him.

"Mark… why don't we dance?" They purr.

"I thought you didn't like my dancing, 'Damien'…" His voice is barbed, forcing out Dark's now fake name.

"Let me lead you. It could be a good learning opportunity." Dark took his hand, pulling Mark into a close tango.

They lead him expertly, their smoky eyes full of lust. Mark stumbled, and Dark had no choice but to catch him, leaning over him so closely they could kiss.

Mark let himself go, falling to the floor. He got up, dusting off his coat and pants. "You- what are you doing?!" He hush-yelled.

"Whatever do you mean?" Dark batted their eyes. "I was only trying to help."

"Help? This is not helping! Imagine what the press would think!" He hissed.

Mark hurried off, out of the room to get some privacy. Dark trailed behind.

The two ended up in a closet together, all too close. Dark smiled, the picture of innocence.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about, what would the press have to say?"

"That you- that- that I! That you!" Mark stomped his foot. "Ooooh, don't play games like that!"

Dark gently held his jaw in their hand, fading back into their comfortable gray to save some energy.

"Oh, Mark… all worked up, aren't you?" They pressed their nose to his, dropping to a whisper. "Do you need some help with that?"

Mark opened his mouth to answer, before folding his arms and smugly nodding. He figured Dark would chicken out and knock it off. Dark instead chuckled.

"Gotten bold, haven't we, dear snake?" Dark unbuttoned his suit jacket, setting it aside.

"H-hey, hey, you can't be serious! You said we wouldn't fool around where others might see!" Mark flushed again.

Dark halted. "Well, if you'd rather I not."

Mark grumbled, now frustrated he had to make his interest explicit. He folded his arms again, trying to hide the fact he had been getting aroused.

"My deepest apologies for misunderstanding." They cleared their throat, going to leave. Mark caught them by the wrist.

Dark looked back, Mark trying to piece together words. "N-no… I… do… but don't get us caught, okay? I have a reputation."

"As do I." Dark smiled softly, resuming where they left off.

They pushed his tie to hang over his shoulder and unzipped his pants, letting his cocks free. They were half hard. Dark's cold hands circled his shafts easily, lightly pumping them until they were fully erect. Mark bit back a noise.

Dark dropped to their knees, pausing before taking him. "Happy to see me, hm?" They tease.

Mark's cocks twitched, and he reluctantly nodded.

"Good. I don't know about you, but I was getting bored out there." Their hands grasped his thighs, marked with several scars.

They took one of his shafts in their mouth, sucking the tip first, then deeper. Their throat hollowed, accommodating his length easily. Their long tongue slithered out, licking his balls slowly. Mark shuddered.

"T-that's a new one-" Mark whispered.

Dark smiled internally, pulling away. They took in his other shaft next, sucking and licking him carefully. Mark clung to a shelf behind him, biting his lips.

Dark opened their mouth a little wider than anyone reasonably should, taking in both shafts. Mark let out a soft moan, knees weak from the stimulation. They swallowed around his tips.

Mark dug his hands into their hair, trying desperately not to mewl like a cat. They reached up to shove a handkerchief in his mouth and help him.

Mark gagged on the cloth, taking it out.

"W-what exactly are you getting from this?" He whispered.

Dark pulled away, wiping excess drool. "Hm… Malicious satisfaction. A reason for you to let me have my way with you at home. I think I'll bind you to the wall, hunt you for sport and fuck you. How does that sound?"

Mark whined softly. All he could do was nod. He tried to act all tough and in control, but he was putty in their hands.

Dark returned to sucking him off, the tip of their pointed tongue gracing his perineum. Mark was sweating bullets, trying not to lose control of himself.

His cocks came in tandem, shooting onto their throat. Mark fell to his knees, practically in Dark's lap as he caught his breath.

Dark swallowed thickly, using the handkerchief to dab at their mouth and his forehead.

"How was that, my Snake?" They rested their elbows on his knees.

"... T… too good." Mark panted.

"Oh, poor Hero." Dark pouted teasingly, before getting up to leave.

Mark whined, reaching out for them. They returned to their previous intimate proximity, never intending to leave him there. They just liked seeing him beg, and they knew he liked begging.

"C… can we do this next event?" Mark asked softly.

Dark nodded, grinning smugly at how successful this little encounter went.

#GRIPPING THIS.#MY BROTHER IN CHRIST THIS IS AMAZING #sawyer is spicy

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jeannewritessometimes · 1 year

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Just a little reminder: If I see minors or ageless blogs interacting with my nsfw content, I will give you ONE warning before blocking you.

Please block the tag "sawyer is spicy" if you fit into these categories

#sawyer is yelling !!

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jeannewritessometimes · 1 year

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[[Part 2 of this fanfic, Murdock (Murderplier) x GN!Reader drabble, I’m definitely making this into a series lmao]]

[[Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, paranoia-inducing content, minors/ageless blogs DNI, mentions of murder, blood, predator/prey themes, horror/romance combo, use of “prize” and similar terms to describe reader, stalking, NSFW (Murdock doesn’t whip it out in this one, but there’s some other… adult activities), possessive language, orgasm denial, light degradation, voyeurism mention, dubcon, NOT ROMANTICIZING YANDERE TROPES]]

It had been weeks since your… encounter with him. You hadn’t gone to the police; you were too scared, and you knew those idiots wouldn’t do anything anyway. You had been doing your own research on this man instead, and… oh boy.

Murdock Clay, ironically, used the cover of a paranormal investigator. From what you could tell, people made appointments with him to investigate the supernatural occurrences in the area, and he took this opportunity to find his victims. Every time he was recruited to investigate, within a week at the most, a middle-aged man (typically a father) ended up going missing.

Bile rose up your throat once you realized that he was making a mockery of ghost-hunting, something that you had dedicated your entire life to, in order to hide his sick and bloodthirsty exploits.

You took every precaution to keep yourself safe. Your doors were locked, your blinds were shut, you only left your apartment when you absolutely needed to… Yet, as you lay in bed and closed your eyes, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease. Something was wrong.

“Well, well. You’re so peaceful when you sleep, trophy.”

The sickeningly familiar voice broke you out of your sleepy haze, and you sat up abruptly to see Murdock sitting at the end of your bed, twirling a knife in his hand. You slowly and silently try to reach for your phone, but your heart stopped as you realized that it wasn’t there.

“Aw, you didn’t think I’d be stupid enough to leave that there?” His lips curled into a sinister smile, and your heart drops as you watch him slip your phone into the pocket of his dark trenchcoat.

“What the fuck do you want from me?” you demand, trying to hide your fear behind a veil of anger. In reality, you were scared shitless. This guy could easily kill you, and nobody would ever know. Murdock stands up and steps closer to you, before softly caressing your jaw with his gloved hand and letting out a quiet hum.

Chills run down your spine at the softness of his touch, the cold leather of his glove a shock to your system. It’s hard to see his eyes through the pitch-blackness of his sunglasses, but you knew that they were fixated on you like a wolf that had found a sheep with a broken leg.

All in all… you were fucked.

“I wanted to see you again. I’d be an idiot if I let my little prize get away from me again, wouldn’t I?” he mused, his hand slipping down to gently wrap around your throat. He didn’t squeeze- not yet, anyway- just held you in place as he moved his face closer to you.

It seemed like the scratches you’d left on his face had healed pretty quickly. The one scar that had been left behind was faint, barely noticeable until Murdock had gotten closer. “You see, I don’t take kindly to being teased. Especially not by someone that I’d planned on hunting for sport.”

You’re unable to do anything but stare at him, your eyes wide with fear. God, that conflicting warmth in your gut was back. It was almost like you were turned on by this, but there was no way in hell that you were turned on by this. No way in hell.

“I feel your pulse through my glove, you know. Your heart is racing, trophy.” He squeezes softly, as if to prove his point, and your breath hitches in your throat. “Is that because you’re scared of me?”

You want to nod, cuss at him, even spit in his face or something, but all that comes out is a pathetic whimper. God, you were sick for being turned on by this.

As if reading your mind, Murdock loosens his grip slightly and pulls you closer. His lips are mere inches away from yours and you can feel his hot breath on your skin. “Oh, I understand, trophy, you’re not scared. Not primarily, anyway,” he teased, looking at you from above the rims of his sunglasses. His eyes are a dull shade of blue, but there’s a bit of dark red circling the outside of his iris. It doesn’t look supernatural, per se, more so just an odd quirk. But you’re hardly focused on that right now. Murdock’s free hand moves down your chest, brushing against your clothed nipple and making you shiver softly before continuing down your sternum and over to rest on your waist. His body is warm, you can feel the heat radiating off of him, but your mind is too fuzzy to think very hard about that.

“You see, I knew you weren’t like the rest of my victims when you were on your knees begging for your life” he continued, his voice a low whisper. “The way you looked at me when you were sobbing, the way your eyes wandered… Trophy, you really ought to know better. You want to get fucked by a serial killer, don’t you? What a pervert.”

You closed your eyes at those words, inhaling sharply as if Murdock had cut you with the knife he’d previously had in his hand. You knew he was right and god fucking damn it, that pissed you off.

You opened your mouth to protest, but as Murdock’s hand slipped lower and rested on your lower thigh, you couldn’t help but let out another soft shudder. You’d been wearing shorts to bed that night, and you were starting to regret it as his fingertips circled the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. “Oh, my prize, you’re pathetic. You’re like putty under my touch, aren’t you?”

“Get your hands off me,” you hiss. Even though you protest, fuck, you just want him to move his fingers in between your legs and fuck you open with his hand.

“‘Get your hands off me, Murdock’,” he mocked. “Oh, come on. We both know you’re one step away from begging for me like you were the other night. Look at how your body reacts to my touch.” He moves to whisper in your ear, one of his gloved fingers moving to play with the band of your underwear. “If you want me to keep going, tell me now. If not, well… I can always just leave.”

A defeated whine leaves your throat, and you bare your neck to him. “Please…” you whisper, letting out a little gasp as his lips press against your pulse point. “Fuck, please fuck me.”

Murdock lets out a quiet chuckle, his tongue darting out to taste your skin as his fingers slip under your waistband and brush against your sensitive sex. You were practically dripping for him already, unable to control your ragged breathing as he began moving his fingers in soft circles.

“Perfect,” he whispered, dragging his teeth along your skin and moving the hand that had previously been gripping your throat up to tangle in your hair. “Let me know if you need me to stop, trophy.” As he works over you with his fingers, stopping was the last thing on your mind. You let out a soft moan as Murdock began sucking a mark into the skin where your shoulder met the base of your neck, arching into his touch slightly.

“Fuck, please don’t stop,” you whined, your thighs twitching slightly as a coil began tightening in your stomach. The feeling of Murdock’s gloves on your overly-sensitive skin was overwhelming, making your hips roll against his hand gently.

“God, look at you,” he practically moaned between kisses to your neck. “So pathetic when I’m touching you like this.” His mocking only served to make you more overwhelmed, letting out a soft gasp as he applied more pressure to your sex.

“I bet you’d like it if I bent you halfway out the window and fucked you until the whole neighborhood knew you were mine, huh?” he continued, before biting into your neck and making you moan out.

His tongue ran over the indents in your skin, soothing the pain. You felt the coil in your gut tightening, unable to form a coherent thought as Murdock’s fingers worked over your arousal. “Or maybe I should put a gag on you, huh? So only I can see or hear how much you like my hands on you.”

Your hips are now shamelessly grinding against his hand, shivering softly and attempting to chase that high that you so desperately wanted. Your breath is coming out in sharp gasps and shivers, just so fucking close to reaching that high, and…

Murdock pulled his hand away, leaving you to grind against nothing but the cold air of your bedroom. “Oh, trophy, you didn’t actually think I was going to reward you after pulling a stunt like that, did you?” he teased, running his tongue up your neck once more before stepping away and looking over his gloves.

The leather was covered in your slick, and you barely got a chance to look at him before he licked your juices off his fingers and let out a quiet moan at the taste. “Maybe if you’re good next time I visit, I’ll fuck you just as good as you deserve, yeah?”

#Gruesome Ghost-Hunter #sawyer is spicy #iswm murdock x reader #iswm murderplier x reader #tw dubcon #tw paranoia inducing #🩸bloodlust

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jeannewritessometimes · 1 year

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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.

#Gruesome Ghost-Hunter #sawyer is spicy #iswm murdock x reader #iswm murderplier x reader #🩸bloodlust

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