#e g marshall

[fabioemme78]

[nonnieapple]

⛈☂ Strings☂⛈

 • (Marshall Lee x reader)  • r a t i n g: t e e n & u p • 2 4 2 5  w o r d s  • p o s t e d 24.09.2023     🌧 navigation  ☔️ SEQUEL • s u m m a r y: marshall likes snooping around, and you like peace and quiet.

The rain fell on the grasslands of Aaa and surrounding areas. The animals in the forests hid under trees, candy citizens ran into bars, and Marshall Lee floated high off the ground. 

  He floated to the empty Tree House. The willow branches dripped with cold water and glistened like rhinestones. He tapped on the glass. No one answered. Adjusting his jacket and turning invisible, he let himself in, prying the glass up with his claws. It opened with a slight screech. He flew in, shaking the raindrops off his leather jacket. 

  The water dropped to the wooden ground. He looked up and flinched, turning visible as he was met with a figure on the couch in the kitchen. 

  They held a left-handed guitar made of bone, decorated with worn stickers. They held a pick shaped like a heart as they strummed out chords of Francis Forver, strumming the e-string angrily each time they messed up, concentrating so hard it was almost intimidating. 

  Marshall floated above them as he zipped up one of his pockets.

  You jolted up, stopped playing, nearly dropped your guitar, and with wide eyes watched as some guy appeared in front of you. 

  He had mint skin, black hair wet from the rain, black and red eyes you never got used to, and an expression that confused you. Maybe fear, or worry. You screamed, and he did as well. It was Marshall Lee- kind of a friend of a friend with whom you occasionally crossed paths.   

  Kinda a person you thought was mad cool, but not someone you were close with. 

  "What are you doing here?" He asked. His voice was calm and bordering on deep. You hadn't heard him speak much, and it was startling. 

  You raised a brow.

  "I could ask you the same question!"   You jabbed. 

  He floated down, eyes staring at your instrument.

  "Nice guitar." He bent over to inspect it. You pulled away. His tone was between mocking and impressed. Personal space breached, raise the grimace shields. 

  He was acting quite calm. You were, too. Internally, though, you screamed, your heartbeat wild, hands drumming on your thighs.

  "Um... thanks? Did Fionna invite you over?" You changed your posture from a slouch to the straightest and stiffest pose known to Aaa. Even your tone was stiff. You weren't a person who was comfortable with others around, often becoming a robotic, clumsy mess, and you were even worse with people you barely knew. Cool people you barely knew? Instant death.

  "Nope."

   Your face flashed with concern. Marshall wasn't... malicious, but he was trouble, and glob forbid he dragged you into some antics. Can't a guy practice some guitar on a rainy afternoon?

   "As LSP would say, I'm crashing." He shrugged casually.

  You strummed your guitar. It was still connected to your demonic amp. The amount of demons you had to fight to get that thing was crazy. But it was worth it. The sound was clear, the controls were precise, and it sounded otherworldly, especially with deadstortion. 

  He floated near you and nearly stood on his feet. The silence hung in the air as your eyes drifted around the kitchen. 

  "Mind if I try?" He spoke gently, far more soft compared to his usual sass. It could be something he put on in front of groups of people. Or maybe your deer-in-headlights demeanor was enough to make even him more careful. 

  Your eyes fell on him and you folded your arms, not before gesturing to the instrument swiftly.

  "Uh no, go ahead." You nodded and raised your shoulders, tense. 

  Marshall scooped it into his arms. It fit great. His long fingers spanned across the frets nicely. He had hands made for playing guitar, and that made you envious. Even with practice, you couldnʼt reach so far. He positioned himself, floating mid-air. 

  Your face was a mix of curiosity and surprise. 

  "No pick? Just... fingers?" You raised a brow, the words coming out faster than you thought. He laughed lightly, and you flushed. 

  "I'm good with them." You choked on air as you sat stiffly, stifling a nervous laugh. If you were flushed before, now all your blood was definitely in your awkward face. 

  He strummed and his long ears perked up at the sound. 

   "You're left-handed?" He bit the edges of his black lips, positioning his fingers. He didn't need to take so long doing all that. He was stalling. Curious.

  "Not quite. A dragon tore off one of my left fingertips, so I can't hold down the frets without gross pain," You rambled quietly as you rested against the red cushions.

  He played what was definitely, unmistakably Misirlou. You had to close your mouth at the speed of his wrist. Looking at that shit was enough to give your wrist a sprain. 

  He lifted his hands, holding the guitar loosely as he stared in your general direction expectantly. You cleared your throat. 

  "You seem good at left-handed playing. I've only seen you play right before." Marshall's expression flashed disappointment for a second before returning to a chill one. 

  "I've had a thousand years to learn, if I couldn't play either,  that would be embarrassing." He smiled. Damn, that guitar suited him... 

  "Same with money... imagine being poor after like a thousand years..." You tapped on the table, lost in thought, partially about vampires, but mostly about a vampire. 

  "I can't, I own half of Aaa and my mom is the ruler of the Nightosphere. I used to own this Tree House!" He motioned to a part of the tree, and objects lifted to reveal an M carved into it. 

  "I remember that. I wasn't there but I heard about it." You nodded. 

  "Guess you've heard a lot about me?" He lifted his brows. 

  "Quite a- oooh. I get it." 

  "Get what?" A grin tugged at his lips.

  "That wasn't an actual question, was it?" You squinted up with a smug expression. 

  "Wow. Pretty and smart. Package deal," He said with the perfect delivery- just the right amount of casualness for the line to be missed unless you were paying attention. And you indubitably were; you dearly hoped he didn't notice and you came off as cool and mysterious. Your flush and rigidity betrayed your discomfort. 

  Marshall passed you your guitar, and you leaned on it with your elbow, brushing hair away from your face as you looked around the room, searching for something interesting. 

  Dishes. Fridge. Your shaky hands. Paintings. Tree bark. A bug in the corner. Inevitably, your eyes fell back on Marshall. Your attention jumped from his clothes to his hair, to his inhuman features. 

  "Why are you staring?" You blanched and your expression fell. You met his eyes. If you looked down you'd be even more suspicious. 

  "Sorry, I didn't mean to. Your eyes are...." You trailed off. Shit. You weren't looking at his globdamn eyes, but you weren't about to say "Nice cock, bro". 

  "Horrifying? Demonic?" You swore he floated closer to you. You recoiled, pursing your lips. 

  "Interesting."

  Good save, idiot.

  His arrogant little facade faded, replaced by tired disappointment. 

  "It's also interesting how you're already tall but still float."

  He shrugged.

  "Alright, I'll bite." He stood on the ground. You finally got a good look at his frame and height, and man was that good look good. Every part of him was long and slim, from his ears to his eyes and fingers, and who else knows what. You slapped yourself internally at the thought. 

   He sat down next to you, setting his right calf onto his left thigh. He inclined his head. 

  "Not literally." He flashed the tips of his fangs. He fished a box of cigarettes out of his pocket, turning to you and slicking back his drying hair.

   "You want some?"

  You grimaced. 

   "No. and you shouldn't smoke inside. And this shit is bad for your vocal health." The rain still raged on, yet it felt like a calming ambiance when in the comfort of the Tree House. 

  "Aww, come on. Just once," He beckoned sweetly, nearing your face, feigning demonic puppy eyes. You shook your head. He set them down on the couch, as well as a red lighter. So much of his stuff was red. It was like if you had everything made outta food. 

  "It's like murder. It's a slippery slope."

  You bounced your leg, checking your phone. You scrolled through your notifications. As empty as your heart. 

  "Sometimes I check my messages and realize just how bitchless I am..." 

  "Can't relate. I have lots of friends and messages...." He spread his arms over the backboard, gesturing in the air as his eyes wandered. He had a real soulful expression, as though he was speaking of glob itself. 

  Marshall dropped his arms, sighed, and frowned. 

  "Okay, yeah, I don't have anyone close to me. Sure I hang out with people but I'm kind of a loner," He admitted quietly, reminiscent of your insecure and anxious tone. 

  "You saw me earlier. I'm not much of a loner as much as I am a loser..."

  "That's where we're different. But together we make a lone loser." He gestured to his unbeating heart, speaking like a damn motivational speaker. You smiled. 

  "Perfect."

  A silence lingered. If not for the raging storm out, you would've heard the caw of a cyclops crow. 

  The silence turned strange as you made prolonged eye contact. Your proximity sent you into a fever. He didn't have any warmth- it felt like you had stolen all of it at once. 

  You tore your gaze away, opening up a portal with your pick and putting your guitar in. Marshall's eyes widened and he jerked in surprise. 

  "Where did that go?!" His voice strained against serenity. 

 "Uhhh I put it in its case. Between the Nightosphere-" You lifted your hand. 

  "The Nightosphere?" He interrupted with worry. 

  "-And the deadworlds. Let me finish." You readjusted yourself, unamused. 

  "Oh, I'll let you finish alright. Not like that. Are you finished?" 

  Your mouth was agape. 

  "You made that a lot worse than it was. Yes, I'm done." 

  You would never forget the awkwardness that plagued you throughout that whole interaction. It would forever be embedded in your cringing bones. 

  You browsed on your phone, refreshing your conversation with Fionna. No updates. Not even a bad meme. Sad. 

  Your arms rested on the table as you set your phone face down. You contemplated making tea. 

  "Why haven't we talked much before?"

  That was a difficult question. You braced yourself as you turned your head to him just a tad. 

   "Honestly? I was... afraid of you. Not because of the demon vampire thing," You quickly defended yourself. 

  "That's surprising..." Marshall mumbled.

  "Sorry." He raised his arms defensively. 

  "But because you're... I'm gonna sound stupid." You laid face down and laughed nervously, in sync with the drops hitting the windows. 

  "I doubt that. You're not Fionna." 

  The corners of your mouth tilted up, and you shot the vampire a dirty look. 

  "Shut up!" You laughed hollowly, surprised by his little joke. 

   He gave you a tight-lipped smile. 

   "You're cool, and I thought you were better than interacting with someone like me." The words did sound stupid coming out of your mouth. The thoughts were completely irrational. 

  "Someone with mutual interests and more to talk about than hacking monsters or angry exes?" He quirked a brow. 

  "I'm not trying to rationalize it. Also, I have plenty of exes to talk about." You raised your phone. 

  Marshall's face was practically begging you to not. 

  "Please don't."

   "Fine. You're safe. For now. One was a demon." You glared at a picture of them with you. He peeked over your shoulder. 

  "That's interesting...."

  "You said not to talk about it." You leaned on your palm, feigning disinterest. 

  "I take it back, come on! Don't leave me hanging," He asked desperately, ghosting his black claws over your now upright back. You shuffled away. 

  "You'll have to beg-"

  Your phone buzzed. You hummed with displeasure, reading the message right away. 

  "Glob. You gotta go, Fionna will be here soon," You urged as you stood up, straightening out your clothes and stretching as you paced around the room. Marshall paused for a second and decided to stand up. 

  "You're right. No fun getting caught." He shoved his hands into his pockets, walking to the window. You watched his movements carefully as he opened up the window, putting his foot on the ledge, and floating, defying gravity. 

  As he left, you were hit with a lot of. A lot. Just, a lot.  

  You put the kettle on the stove, sitting on the counter, relaxing, finally. 

  You had always... wanted to hang out with him, but, damn, you didn't think it'd happen. And he wasn't as intimidating as he came off! You felt all funny inside, still absolutely high off the adrenalin of it all. When you saw him appear it was like your body got restarted. 

  The water began to boil, and you poked at dry leaves of colorful tea. 

  You were surprised as Marshall flew back in. You didn't have time to process a thing. He observed you as you lounged with owlish eyes. He picked up his lighter and cigarettes. He hadn't looked away.

  "Forgot these." He glanced from the objects to you. He headed for the window again. He hesitated. 

  "These aren't tobacco, you know." 

  You raised your brows. He flew out as the front door rattled and Fionna and Cake yelled loudly. You waved to Marshall, only to see that he was gone, and the window was open. 

  You sat like a statue with a mystified gaze. 

  The kettle whistled and Fionna waved her hand in front of your face.

  Did you fumble or did you fumble hard? Maybe if you had taken the offer, something else would be ha...

  "Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost," Cake frowned, poking your knee. You moved the kettle and Fionna turned off the stove. 

  "No, I saw a... yep, saw a ghost. A cool ghost," You replied breathlessly and somewhat robotically as you finally managed to focus on the two. You poured hot water from the kettle into your favorite mug. It had a cat on it. Dropping tea leaves into the water, you watched as the leaves seeped a bright ruby, and swirled with darker, near-black swirls. 

  Rain still poured outside, albeit it was far calmer than previously. You hoped Marshall was fine. 

  You held up two more mugs. You smiled awkwardly. 

  "Anyone want tea?" 

[citizenscreen]

Remembering E.G. Marshall on his birthday #botd

[paul-simon-juggling]

Tonight I bring you two increasingly chaotic Simon & Garfunkel anecdotes, courtesy of Penny Marshall from her autobiography, "My Mother Was Nuts."

[kwebtv]

TV Guide   -  August 22 - 28, 1964

E. G. Marshall (born Everett Eugene Grunz; June 18, 1914 – August 24, 1998) Stage, film and television actor, best known for his television roles as the lawyer Lawrence Preston on The Defenders in the 1960s and as neurosurgeon David Craig on The Bold Ones: The New Doctors in the 1970s. One of the first group selected for the new Actors Studio, by 1948 he had performed in major plays on Broadway.

His other television credits include:

Alfred Hitchcock Presents (TV) as Ronald J. Grimes

The Islanders as Curt Cober In "Forbidden Cargo (ABC-TV)

The Littlest Angel (TV) as God

Ellery Queen: Don't Look Behind You (TV Movie) as Dr. Edward Cazalis

Night Gallery as Soames, The Funeral Director

Vampire (TV Movie) as Harry Kilcoyne

Falcon Crest as Henri Denault (3 episodes)

Kennedy (TV miniseries) as Joseph P. Kennedy

At Mother's Request (TV Movie) as Franklin Bradshaw

War and Remembrance (TV miniseries) as Dwight D. Eisenhower

Chicago Hope (eight episodes) as Dr. Arthur Thurmond

Miss Evers' Boys (TV Movie) as The Senate Chairman

.

[keepingchrometabs]

12 Angry Men - dir. Sidney Lumet - (1957)

[erstwhile-punk-guerito]

[machetelanding]

[gatutor]

Geraldine Page-E. G. Marshall "Interiores" (Interiors) 1978, de Woody Allen.

[raynbowclown]

The Left Hand of God

The Left Hand of God

The Left Hand of God (1955), starring Humphrey Bogart, Gene Tierney, Lee J. Cobb, Agnes Moorehead, E.G. Marshall Synopsis of The Left Hand of God In The Left Hand of God, at a Catholic mission in China, long-awaited “Father O’Shea” proves to be a tough guy, disturbingly attractive to mission nurse Anne. (more…)

[camyfilms]

12 ANGRY MEN 1957

It's always difficult to keep personal prejudice out of a thing like this. And wherever you run into it, prejudice always obscures the truth.

[adam-apple-murray]

Yo sarah! Look what I've found!

- Sarah is just watching TV as she looked at them. -

Oh,hey there you two.. And what are you holding Jonah?

- she turned off the TV as she stand up. Going to Jonah and take a look of the plan sheet. -

Well... It was a plan sheet,someone by an ALTERNATE named BS,showed adam about the plan..

A plan sheet huh..? Give me that.

- Jonah hand it to her as she take a look. -

. . . H-holy shit..! A lure plan?! Why would someone made that?

An alternate also made that too.. before me and adam got here to find the cat..

W-wait... Really?..

- Jonah nodded.. -

. . .

[Adam's just looking down to the floor]

[nonnieapple]

⛈ ★ Watermelon Face ★ ⛈

• (Marshall Lee x g/n reader)  • r a t i n g: t e e n  &  u p  • 7 1 4  w o r d s  •  p o s t e d 13.07.2023    🌧  navigation • s u m m a r y: marshall and reader are hanging out at the beach, and marshall is being his usual annoying self. 

 It was sunny and unbearably hot in Aaa. Dang, even Marshall was hot.  Not like that.  You sat under a weirdly colored umbrella, dressed in light clothes, relishing in the cool the ocean wind and shade provided. Candy citizens splashed in the water far from your secluded spot on the rocky beach, surrounded by half-submerged vehicles and objects you couldn't even name.  You adjusted your large sun hat and sipped a cold drink. You didn't need the hat, you were wearing it in solidarity with... an annoying vampire that was levitating on your right, under the umbrella, dawning a hat, gloves, the whole anti-sun fit.  He floated down and you frowned. He hadn't said a word yet, but you anticipated something dumb. It was right on the edge of his forked tongue.  "What's that?" His pleasant and casual baritone rang out by your ear, and you felt yourself shiver at his cold-ass hands on your shoulders.  You flinched and moved away. You gave him a side-eye.  "Mojito with watermelon eyeballs," You stated with no interest, sipping with displeasure. The breeze blew by, and a drop of condensation hit your leg.  "So are they... eyes? Or watermelon?" Marshall tilted his head, raising a brow, pointing at the glass.  The eyes bobbed up and down in liquid between chunks of ice. You grimaced, chewing through one and swallowing thickly.    "I don't know, but the texture is terrible. Worst mistake ever." You shuddered as the chewed up chunks of the fruit and or organ slid down your throat, finally out of your mouth. You took a gulp of the fizz. You stared out into the ocean. Gentle lapis waves rolled and crashed onto the golden shore. The sun still burned, and cream clouds floated along the horizon; a march into oblivion.  You inhaled fresh air, chunks of ice stinging your mouth and teeth. In a good way. "Eating the ice?"  And there, your moment of serenity was quickly interrupted. Or obscured, more like. By Marshall.  Your brows lowered and you crunched loudly. "Yea, is crunchy," You said with a full mouth.  Marshall laughed at your expression, putting his long arms behind his head, lounging mid air. Was it bothering you? Kind of. Did you have enough energy to bicker with him?  Your frown deepened.  No. That was your Glob-damned off day!  Marshall clicked his tongue, gestured with his hand, and closed his eyes.  "I prefer to crunch on the bones of my enemies," He quipped as he opened his eyes and hissed out the "s", his scleras black and his irises and pupils a bright red. You suppressed a smile.  "You know what else is cold and hard?" He said in an aloof, teasing tone.  Marshall smirked.  Your smile and frown fell, replaced by thinly concealed horror. "What." It was less of a question and more of a panicked stammer.   Double take wasn’t enough. Not even triple take. You nearly choked on your drink. You stared at his cold hands and forced your eyes to stare into his demonic crimson eyes. You hoped dearly that he couldn't read minds.  "The beds in the Ice Kingdom! I stayed over at Simona's last night and my back still hurts," He explained calmly, looking away. When his eyes fell on you, he burst out into a cackle, spinning and clutching his stomach as his hat nearly fell off.  "What did you think I was gonna say?!" He threw back his head, fangs brandished and eyes watching you.  "... Well.... you know..."  The words died in your throat with your dignity. You felt your face heat up as you pressed yourself into your chair. "What?" He smirked, drawling, unable to contain his amusement at your suffering. "Nothing." You looked down, metaphorical tail between your legs. You were definitely red with how much your face burned. When condensation dripped on your leg again, you flinched.  Thoughts? Ninety miles per hour. Face? One billion degrees.  He floated closer to you. He wouldn't flippin’ dare. His hands extended to your face.  "Wow, hey there watermelon fa-"  You cut him off by chucking a handful of ice at his face. He caught it with his maw. He crunched loudly, arms folded. He looked into nowhere for a bit.  He smiled, still chewing. "Oh, it is crunchy!"

[citizenscreen]

Birthday remembrance - E. G. Marshall #botd

[lovexjoe]

The Hotel

warning: S M U T with Michael Vargas

You and Michael have been bickering the entire way to this hotel and you couldn’t wait to get there so you guys could finally be separated. Following you across four states was insane, but discovering he’s a US Marshal and you were under witness protection definitely topped it off. Your mother was a piece of fucking work. What happened to the communication is key? She clearly skipped that shit in the parental handbook. Michael didn’t mean what he said at the restaurant. Everything that happened that night at the bar was real. He’s been fighting himself since. You catching him and having him at gun point turned him on. 

Look at you using his tips and tricks against him. He wondered what other things he could teach you and you’d just obey. He fucked up his cover, but he realize he gets to have you in closer proximity so he wasn’t gonna complain. The fact that you walked into that restaurant with the gun and sat both of you down had him swooned. You were more badass than you gave yourself credit for. And rebellious slick mouth of yours… 

“You afraid I might stab you with a chopstick? After you walked me through a kitchen full of knives? You realize how easy it would have been for me to grab one?” 

“Shut up” 

The waiter walked over to ask “Can I get you something?” 

“In a minute” He walks away just for you to continue with your usual sass. 

“Oh I’m sorry, did you want to order a beer? Cause apparently the Marshals let their agents drink on the job” 

Silence. 

“What are you mute?! Speak!” 

“You did tell me to shut up so you want me to speak now or continue to shut up?” 

The death glare you gave him made it hard for him not to laugh. Boy is he gonna enjoy being this close to you. Hearing him say that he was just playing a role the night at the bar really stung. Everything else was falling apart so to add a shitty love life on top was just g r e a t.

Now here you two were outside of the hotel room waiting for Michael to open it. You wondered to yourself why there was only one key but you decided to ask questions later. You stepped inside, placing your suitcase under the bed. Michael doing his checks around the room. 

“I’ll take the couch…” 

“You’re not sleeping in here get your own room!” You crossed your arms like a brat. If he could put you over his lap and spank you: he would. 

“That’s not how this works Y/N” Whenever he said your name your heart does flutters and your stomach dips.

“Well I’m not comfortable with that” 

“And I’m not comfortable with letting you out of my sight. So….tie me up if it’ll make you feel better but neither one of us is leaving this room.” He walks up to the edge of the bed where you sat, arms crossed like a brat and he towers over you. You felt so small around him. Damsel in fucking distress. 

“I’m gonna need my gun back” You shoved your bag towards him and headed over to the bathroom. Stripping down on the way over there, he took in your figure in your undergarments. He couldn’t believe you’d fuck your mom’s nurse. Bobby? He’s a fucking loser. He took his gun out of your bag and noticed your sketchbook. He recalled the Atlanta office giving him information on you and your recent activities. They definitely forgot to mention how much sass could occupy your petite body. He heard the shower turn on and the curtain pulled back so he took a look into your sketchbook which was also a diary.

Tonight I met a man in the bar. It felt comforting like I didn’t have to run any longer. I could just stay in one place and he’d protect me. He was handsome. I haven’t felt this nervous around someone since high school. I almost forgot what it was to feel attracted to the opposite sex. Just been running on auto pilot and since the incident….fear. He taught me how to shoot and I appreciate him greatly for it. The night ended with no kiss, but I achingly wish it did. 

He smiles to himself as he turns to the next page it was a sketch of him at the bar. He was done talking shit. He joked out you being an artist but you were actually talented. His finger ran over the name you left under the sketch and his heart did a flip. 

My guardian angel 

It was gonna be a hard night to resist you. He knows the feelings were there on both sides. You thought it was unrequited but it was so far from it. He placed your sketchbook back in the bag. The shower turns off and he hears a “fuck” from the bathroom. This motel design was devious cause there was no bathroom door at all. Plus the huge mirror on the wall that could reflect your nudity was just adding fuel to the fire that is ready to ignite. 

“Michael?” You poked your head out. He looks up your way, his stomach feeling those familiar flutters when he’s around you. 

“I forgot a towel…” You looked at the fresh stacked towels on the couch then back on him. Those doe eyes of yours are gonna get you in trouble tonight. It poked a dominant side of him he didn’t know he had. He just wants to take you and having you a begging mess under him. 

“Come and get it….” He sits down on the couch next to the towels. From this angle the mirror behind you was giving him a complete view of your ass and he couldn’t help the feeling of blood rushing to his lower region. 

“If you wanted to see me naked all you had to do was ask.” You walked over there ready to reach over his lap for a towel. You had so much mouth for a girl who looked like she wouldn’t hurt a fly. Tonight he was gonna fix it. He couldn’t control himself any longer. Michael gets up and stands behind you. You can feel the body heat radiating off the two of you. He leans down near your ear and whispers. 

“Bend over for me…” he places a soft kiss below your ear and you followed his wishes. The arm of the chair was soft against your skin and had your ass perked up perfectly for him. You were excited and giddy. He glides his fingers through your folds earning a little shiver in response.

“Fuck, you’re soaking already” You heard him suck the juices off his fingers and you couldn’t wrap your head around what’s happening. 

“You can touch me but you can’t kiss me? Such a gentleman…” you snorted just to earn a hard slap to your ass.

Oh! That felt good. 

“Tonight we’re gonna learn how to listen and obey. Understood?” You look back at him and nodded.

“I can’t hear you….” He slides his fingers through your folds again, rubbing up and down. 

“Y-yes…I-I understand.” 

He pulls you up straight and turned you around to face him. 

“Do you trust me?” He caress your cheek and you nodded as you nuzzle your head into his touch. As soon as your lips touched, all the fear you felt since the incident vanished. You felt whole again. His hands held you close, they were warm and rough but against your soft skin it was like a match sparking a fire. He pulls away, bending you back over the couch handle. 

He spread your cheeks and dove in. His tongue devouring you from your ass to your pussy. Drowning in you, is what he wanted. To consume every bit of wetness you produced for him. You would have never thought he could be this dirty. Heaven’s a thing and you’re there right now because of his touch. 

“Michael!” You reached for his hand and he held it for you as he thrusts his tongue into your hole. His beard getting drenched in the process. 

“I’m gonna worship this pussy.” 

You squeezed his hand letting him know you were close. You felt yourself about to release when the motions that brought you there came to abrupt stop. You let out a frustrated cry.

“That’s for having a slick fucking mouth.” 

You heard his belt come undone along with jeans and boxers. His thick length slapped against your ass. He bites his lip as he slides his length between your folds, teasing your clit. 

Hes so cruel 

“P-please daddy. Just take it” Y/N begged. His ego grew. The fact that you fixed your slick little mouth to beg for him. Hearing you call him daddy made it even better because you were his princess after tonight. He was going to protect you. He was gonna love you. 

“Such a pretty fucking princess for me”. He slips in and slowly thrusts in. Your pussy deviously clenching onto his length. He lifts one of your legs up on the couch arm to get a deeper angle. A sinful angle. He was hitting a spot you didn’t know could be touched. 

“Uhhh fuck you’re so big!” 

“God you’re taking me so fucking good. You’re so fucking good” 

Oh you had a praise kink, there was a feeling unfamiliar in your stomach as he starts to pound into you. Your moans only motivating him to thrust all the way in. 

“Look at you, clenching me as I praise you. You are soaking me. Fuck baby fuckkkk” he wets his thumb and starts to rub on your ass. 

You didn’t even let him work it, you reached behind and assisted as you felt his thumb enter you. Jesus Christ. You were full. Full of him and that’s all you wanted. That’s all you craved. His free hand caress your breast. What a drastic turn of events the night took. 

Neither one of you were complaining. 

“Fuck I’m close”  The sensation of his thumb and his thrusts had you shaking. You both shared an orgasm. He filled you up and held you close. He picked you up cause you could barely stand straight and laid you down in bed.

"Your guardian angel to the rescue"

You slapped his arm

"You read my sketchbook!" Your face turned red from the embarrassment.

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[kwebtv]

The Ox-Bow Incident  -  CBS  -  November 2, 1955

A presentation of the 20th Century-Fox Hour (Season One Episode 3)

Drama 

Running Time:  60 minutes

Stars:

Robert Wagner as Gil Carter

Cameron Mitchell as Donald Martin

E. G. Marshall as Davies

Raymond Burr as Major Tetley

Wallace Ford as Monty Smith

Hope Emerson as Ma Grier

James Westerfield as Deputy Mapes

Walter Sande as Moore

Ray Teal as Bartlett

Tyler MacDuff as Gerald Tetley

Eddie Firestone as Art Craft

Michael Ansara as Jeff Farnley

Rodolfo Hoyos Jr. as Mexican

Taylor Holmes as Judge Tyler

Russell Simpson as Old Man

Robert Adler as Mark

Jay Brooks as Sparks