#; red is such a lovely colour on you (murderplier) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fxirest-of-them-xll · 2 years

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@alwayshorrible @pleasuretomeetme combined your fantasy asks for a two for one deal

includes name calling, humiliation, filming, light bondage, denial, exhibitionism, sexting, threesome

When Illinois checks his phone after his latest adventure, he finds several messages waiting for him.

The usual few from Murdock, detailing how agonisingly boring Murderville is without him, asking when he’ll be back, complaining again, and then the Accomplice’s accompanying photos of Murdock looking miserable and sulking while he presumably types those very messages on his phone.

But, less usual, is a single several minute video message from the Accomplice, with only a black screen as the preview. Whether he chooses to watch it immediately or waits until he’s set up a camp comfortable enough to settle in his sleeping bag makes no difference. What waits for him is the same regardless.

It starts on a black screen and muffled sound, the camera seemingly resting on a surface while the Accomplice fiddles with the settings. For a second there’s only the noise of movement and bad audio, before...

“Haaah— Come on, I’m so close, you—you don’t even have to touch me, just—just tell me I can cum, just that, it’d be so easy—“

A voice, breathless and warbling, distorted through the subpar phone speakers and muffled by the Accomplice’s less than perfect camera work, but nonetheless recognisable to Illinois. Any doubt is quickly quashed when the camera shifts, changing orientations to show a blurry mess before it focuses.

Sure enough, it’s Murdock. Splayed out against the familiar sheets of the cabin’s bed, hands tied at the wrists behind his head to the bed frame, and Illinois can see how his arms flex against the restraints, old and new scars alike rippling as he writhes. He’s completely naked, and his pale skin would blend in with the sheets were he not flushed with arousal, his cock brushing against his stomach and smearing pre cum across his naval. His legs are unbound to let him twist and shift and buck his hips as much as he likes.

And he certainly likes to.

There isn’t a moment that he’s still, his thighs clenching and loosening in a desperate gesture as he cants his hips up in a rhythmless chase for release. His face is twisted in an intoxicating mix of ecstasy and agony, his hair slicked to his skin with sweat and red eyes hazy and glazed over with lust. There’s no telling how long he’s been stuck like this. If Illinois pays very close attention, he’ll see the red marks on his wrists where the ropes have started to burn his skin, the stale sweat dampening the sheets, his muscles exhausted and quivering from too long tensed and thrashing...

But there’s still fight in him. His ruby red eyes burn as he catches the camera lens, lip curled in a half snarl, half moan, as he continues to babble, before a firm voice cuts through the recording.

“Quiet.”

The effect is immediate. Murdock’s mouth snaps shut so fast that the click of teeth registers on the recording, and every inch of him goes taut and frozen in place. Only his cock and throat move, both bobbing with an undeniable thrill of pleasure as they watch the Accomplice behind the phone.

“Tell Illinois why you’re here.” The Accomplice speaks, voice much too steady and impassive for the situation they’re observing.

Murdock flushes an even deeper, shameful red, squirming as he averts his eyes from the camera. “I didn’t—This is ridiculous. I’m not doing this.”

“Alright. I suppose I’ll just leave then.” The camera shifts as the Accomplice moves to turn off the recorded, only for Murdock to cry out and twist against his restraints.

“No! No, no, don’t, please, stay—“ He’s almost whining with how strangled his voice sounds. The camera refocuses on him, and even as his gaze stubbornly avoids the lens, the flexing of his hips betrays his arousal at knowing he’s on display.

“You know the rules. Either you tell Illinois what you want, or I can leave you on your own again.” The Accomplice says it with the practiced air of someone whose repeated it before, and Murdock groans with the frustration of someone who’s heard it before, as well. There’s a long few moments where he fights it, retesting his binds, rattling the headboard against the wall as if it might finally give, and his growl of rage when it doesn’t devolves into a keening whine as his cock seeps more precum against him. His hips snap up as he tries to chase the pleasure, but all it does is make him more desperate. Illinois can pinpoint the moment Murdock’s stubbornness snaps, his body slumping back against the sheets.

“Fine, fuck, fine! I—I want you home, Illinois, want you here, want y—“

“Eyes up.”

It’s a testament to how desperate Murdock is when he lifts his eyes to the camera without argument or hesitation. Their blood red is clouded with lust, tears beading at the edges. “—Want you to touch me, please, fuck me, finger me, anything, just, please—“

“But you’ve got perfectly good hands of your own. Why not get yourself off?”

“You know why!” Murdock snaps, the fight rushing back into him as he thrashes against the bed, only to immediately deflate when he sees the Accomplice do.. Something behind the camera that makes him change his tune. “No! Fuck, no, I’m sorry, I’ll be good, I’ll be good, I promise!”

“I need you, need—need to—mmm..!” He’s trying his best to say something, but even strung up and laid out to be filmed and pulled apart like this, the tatters of his pride remain stubborn.

The Accomplice seems to take pity on him, prompting him from behind the camera. “Can’t cum on your own, can you? Too accustomed to being used. But you tried, didn’t you? Found you fucking yourself on your fingers, stroking your cock, and you didn’t even notice me until it’d already been hours, and you just couldn’t do it, hm?” Murdock moans at the memory, eyes fluttering shut and hips surging up, cock quivering as he tries desperately to recreate the feeling of his own fingers with thin air. “Too ashamed to tell him how you begged me to touch you. Practically grovelled at my feet for it, pathetic and pitiful, just a filthy whore needing to be fucked before they could cum.”

“Yes,” Murdock moans, breathless and warbling.

“Yes what?”

His self control finally snaps completely, his whole body shaking with how taut every muscle is. “Yes, yes, I’m a whore!” He cries. “I’m just a stupid fucking slut, I need you to touch me, please, please, I want to cum so badly, fuck—“

“Good,” The Accomplice hums soothingly, Murdock’s body going limp at the sound, eyes shut, hips raised, waiting for their touch, before the camera shifts again. “Let’s hope your performance convinced him.”

“Wa—wait!” Murdock’s eyes fly open, filled with terror. “You said—You said if I did it, you’d let me cum, you—“

“I said Illinois would let you cum. And he’s not here yet, is he?” The last thing the camera picks up is a flash of the Accomplice’s grin and Murdock’s desperate pleads before...

“Hurry home, darling.”

#; not the state (illinois)#; red is such a lovely colour on you (murderplier)#; alwayshorrible #; pleasuretomeetme #; got no angel to keep me in line (accomplice)

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frxgments-of-frxgments · 2 years

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📱 murdockkkkk

#; fragments of fragments (ic)#; through the glass (asks)#; got no angel to keep me in line (accomplice)#; red is such a lovely colour on you (murderplier)#whoops it got sad))

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frxgments-of-frxgments · 2 years

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"One of the best Accomplices I've ever had. Fast learner. Pain in the ass, though. Stop buying so many treats for the crows, they're gonna get spoiled." @alwayshorrible

Says the man who refuses to leave a crime scene without something shiny for them, the Accomplice shoots back, complete with a stuck out tongue as they toss another grape to the eagerly hopping crows. They’re going to run out of places to hide all the trinkets you get them, you know. I don’t think they really need another watch.

Regardless, their ears are burning at the tips, and their glasses aren’t quite big enough to hide the flush of their cheeks. They offer him the bowl of grapes as a peace offering.

#; fragments of fragments (ic)#; through the mirror (asks)#; got no angel to keep me in line (accomplice)#; red is such a lovely colour on you (murderplier)#; alwayshorrible

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frxgments-of-frxgments · 2 years

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✏️ for murdock <3

bonus threebie

#; through the glass (asks)#; red is such a lovely colour on you (murderplier)#; alwayshorrible #THE POWER OF INCREDIBLE VIOLENCE MADE ME SNORT))

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frxgments-of-frxgments · 2 years

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✏️

bonus threebies

#; through the glass (asks)#; red is such a lovely colour on you (murderplier)#; not the state (illinois)#; pleasuretomeetme

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frxgments-of-frxgments · 2 years

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@alwayshorrible | continued from here !!

——————————————————————-

The Student tries very hard to stay unnoticed.

They had tried to make friends once. They remember a time where they hadn’t understood yet why the adults had given them such pitying looks, why the teachers had always seemed to give them special attention, why they had never quite felt at home anywhere they went... The other children had thought them a little strange, but hardly any different from themselves. They’d been welcomed, albeit a little hesitantly. They hadn’t needed a voice to play tag or to colour.

And then they had grown up.

Suddenly things had been different. Their voice was gross, and wrong, and embarrassing, their parents insisting it would be better if they didn’t speak at all. A silent child was better than a defective one, after all. The other adults began steering their children away, as if they were afraid that whatever the Student had was contagious, no longer hiding their derisive comments and sneering glares. Their children sensed the change, and they followed their example. The Student became a subject of ridicule, ignored at best and tormented at worst.

They learnt quickly it was better to keep their head down and their mouth shut if they wanted to avoid trouble.

So that’s what they did. They didn’t answer questions in class. They spent their lunches in the library, or in the bathrooms, or hiding behind the buildings. They made themselves as small as possible so that nobody would even notice they were there. And they absolutely, positively, did not speak to anyone.

But it wasn’t always enough.

They’re not surprised that Murdock doesn’t recognise them. But they recognise him. They’d seen him in the hallways being escorted to the principals office many times, heard his name whispered in class behind the teacher’s back, side eyed the notes passed in class about his latest exploits. People were either fascinated or terrified of him; most of the time both. The Student didn’t think much of him at all. They’d never met him. As they watch Murdock hop down from the playground’s bordering wall, they wonder if they’ll wish it’d stayed that way.

They don’t shy away from his gaze. If anything, they seem... Curious about it. Their large cracked glasses obscure most of their face as they tilt their head, taking in the striking red of his eyes, fiddling with their sleeves, shuffling their bare feet...

Wait. Bare feet?

Their gaze drifts past Murdock’s face to focus on the swing that he’s just come from. Should Murdock turn and look, they’ll see a suspicious looking pair of scuffed shoes tied to the peak of the tall frame there, dangling almost mockingly.

Oh. So that’s why they’re here.

#; i can tell that we are gonna be friends (child)#; fragments of fragments (ic)#; trapped in a game (threads)#; red is such a lovely colour on you (murderplier)#tw bullying #tw neglect #tw ableism #ask to tag

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frxgments-of-frxgments · 2 years

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🧸 murdock shouldn’t be given a child but give him one anyway @alwayshorrible

When Mark had said he would start writing more of their story, they can’t possibly have meant this.

There’s a child in the forest near Murdock’s cabin. Just. There. Children don’t just hang out in the forest! There’s creepy stories about it and everything! Murdock should know, he spread half of them, and had been the origin of the other half! But it’s just sitting there, straddling a tree branch so high up that if they fell it would undoubtedly be a disaster, head tilted up to watch the small group of crows gathered in the canopy, following their every hopping movement with a pin point precision.

The crow hops to the right. The Child looks right. The crow hops to the left. The Child looks to the left. The crow squawks. The Child barks back their own croaking approximation of the sound.

Murdock should probably call someone. This kid must have parents looking for them, right? Or some kind of legal guardian? Should he call the cops? But what if they started asking questions, and wanted to know who he was, why he lived all the way out here alone, what sort of job did he have, did he happen to know anything about those grisly murders in the town...

Your call, Cross.

#; fragments of fragments (ic)#; through the glass (asks)#; red is such a lovely colour on you (murderplier)#I.... GUESS THIS IS ACCOMPLICE VERSE??))#; got no angel to keep me in line (accomplice)#; alwayshorrible

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frxgments-of-frxgments · 2 years

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❛ i’m used to ruining things that i love. ❜ — @alwayshorrible

The Accomplice looks at Murdock from where they’re supposed to be casing out their next victim.

They say supposed to, because Murdock’s heart has been painfully distracted from the moment he’d called them. Forgetting to stay hidden, staring far too long at people, gaze drifting to look at nothing at all as he got lost inside his own head... The Accomplice has entertained him long enough, they think. They’d thought that maybe he was just having a rough start, that he’d get into it as the night wore on, but it’s becoming more and more certain that they’re not going to be getting anything tonight except tailed by the police at this rate.

They raise an eyebrow at Murdock’s finally broken silence. So that’s what’s been bothering him. There’s a long moment where they consider what to say, settling against the cold brick wall of the alley they’re hiding in, fingers tapping against the damp stone.

This about Illinois? They look pointedly at the new ring adorning his finger. He hadn’t told them directly, but they’d made the connections. They were a lawyer, for Heaven’s sake. Their breath mists the air, swirling in an icy vapour that fills the space between them. He knows what he’s getting into. Wouldn’t have proposed if he didn’t think he could handle your... Needs. You’re not thinking of going clean, are you?

#; fragments of fragments (ic)#; through the glass (asks)#; got no angel to keep me in line (accomplice)#; red is such a lovely colour on you (murderplier)#; alwayshorrible

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