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theredwritingwitch · 2 years

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The Turkey Pig

Pairing: Marcus Pike x fem!reader

Summary: As Hanks-giving approaches, you realized you needed a bottomless pit guinea pig...and one FBI agent will do.

Word Count: 5.5 K

Warnings: Cursing, marking but with permission, alcohol, fade to black sex, holiday fluff, consumption of food

Ratings: M

Appetizers

A guinea pig was needed. Anyone would do, but you needed someone with an appetite for anything and everything as well as a bottomless stomach. Thanksgiving was on its way and you were this year's host for your friends’ special holiday of Tom Hanks-giving. Not everyone had family near to spend the holiday with, so you and your friends made the time up together: eating food, playing games, and binging on many Tom Hanks movies. Your own family lived across the country and were spending the holiday with your sibling, promising to see you for the Christmas break. So your holiday was freed for celebrating with close friends, and this year you volunteered to host. Unlike other years, you wanted to try out new recipes which meant you needed a helping hand or rather an open mind and stomach! Your sights were set on one handsome and friendly FBI agent.

Marcus Pike and you had become fast friends when he moved into your apartment building. He was heartbroken and lonely, and you had a gorgeous recipe for nutella crepes that would cure any broken heart syndrome. The poor man came stumbling home from a long night at work, and found himself attracted by the smell of breakfast and sweets. He had seen you taking up your laundry, following you down the hall past his own apartment. As you opened your door, the smell of an alluring aroma flew to Marcus. After delicately asking you what you were cooking, Marcus accepted your invite to a late breakfast for dinner. Ever since that late night brunch, he hadn’t been able to stay away from your culinary habits.

It also helped that you had a solid crush on the art crimes agent. The man was easy on the eyes, and on the ears. He knew all the right things to say, what movies to recommend, music to listen to, and advice to give. It was simple too easy to become heart eyed at Marcus when he jabbered on about old films, classic art, and random trivia knowledge. In your opinion the agent was a real renaissance man, he seemed to have an interest in a great many things, all of which he loved to share with you. And you loved to listen, he had a way to become truly animated when he spoke, always including you in the conversation. The man always had a way to grab all your attention.

But you had a way to grab his attention as well. Which was crucial in your current predicament. You were a heavy believer that food was the way to a man’s heart. Maybe a part of you was hoping to have yourself something of a guinea pig but perhaps even something more?

Tonight was no different from the other nights you had with Marcus; you knew the agent was home and knew he would never turn down a question for help. Because that was Marcus, he was a knight in shining armor. The man jumped at the thought of helping and aiding you or anyone in need. Just one of many reasons you were falling in a hopeless crush for the man. You had asked for his help on many other occasions and the reward for his help was always the same, an offer of free food. Scraping up a plate of stuffed mozzarella and bread crumb mushroom caps, you knocked a happy tune onto Marcus’ door. You had made these stuffed mushrooms before for Marcus, and knew you could easily lure the man right where you needed him.

Right on cue to your pondering was the man of your eye. Still dressed in his trim work suit but with some ruffled hair that matched his scruffy beard, Marcus smiled from ear to ear as he took you in. Posing with the plate of food right in front of the door, you gave Marcus a dazzling smile.

“I need a favor.”

Marcus grabbed a mushroom instantly and bit down, humming as a few crumbs fell to the plate and as the mozzarella stretched from his mouth. You watched him keenly as he licked his lips and reached out for a second mushroom.

“Anything for you,” he gushed as his eyes sparkled with mirth to the plate of food he was slowly coaxing out of your hands.

You laughed and batted him away, taking a few steps back towards your apartment, “Well seeing as Thanksgiving is right around the corner.”

Marcus acknowledged your comment and took a few steps towards you, closing his door behind him.

“And I’m staying here for Thanksgiving, which means it will be a Friendsgiving for me,” you continued back to your door.

“I’m familiar with the holiday.”

“Are you familiar with Tom Hanks-giving? Because that’s actually what we’re celebrating.”

Marcus laughed as he lunged for a mushroom, “I can certainly get behind that holiday.”

“So can my friends and I, but here’s the catch, I’m hosting and that means I’m cooking.”

“Your friends are damn lucky,” he groaned into a bite.

“Well you can be lucky too if…you be my guinea pig,” you offered him the whole plate.

Marcus looked up to you with wide eyes, “You mean I can eat more of your food?”

“Yes, as in I need to try out some new side dishes, pies, potatoes, stuffing—”

“When do I start?” Marcus interrupted you in a dead series tone.

You bit your lip with glee, “You already did start! Today you will be taste testing appetizers!”

“Today? As in, this is going on for a couple of days?”

“Yep I’ll have dinner ready for you when you get home Agent Pike,” You gleefully explained as you entered your apartment.

“Doesn’t seem like much of a favor when I’m the one getting rewarded…” Marcus trailed off as he took in the feast before him. Letting the door swing close behind him, he oohed and aahed at the selection that you had laid out.

Handing Marcus a bubbling orange cranberry mimosa, you went on to explain to him the menu. Starting with a simple caramelized onion dip to a vibrant cranberry whipped feta dip, both served with your homemade cracked pepper chips. Finally you served him cheesy green bean & mushroom tarts as well as caramelized onion & goat cheese bites. For his part in the deal, Marcus slurped and chewed everything down that he could. He licked the spoon clean of cranberry sauce and popped the bits of goat cheese into his mouth all to flush it all down with another round of mimosa.

For your part, as hostess and chef, you seemed to lose yourself in the quaint atmosphere the two of you found yourselves in. Conversing and eating under the warm lights of your kitchen as the sun went down was a homey daydream you had in your head for way too long. There was something so familiar and cozy about Marcus that made you want to just simply rest your head on his shoulder to be enveloped in his arms on the couch, maybe even being sunken into a bed as he pushed you further into the mattress with his…

“So honest answers only?” Marcus questioned you as he jarred you out of your quiet staring.

“Oh yes, honest answers only!”

“I have no idea what you’re going to be serving at this Hanks-giving,” he paused as he eyed your fading smile. Leaning towards you, he continued, “Cause everything tastes amazing and I can’t figure out what was the best.”

You laughed and pushed his arm away from you.

“That’s cruel Marcus, you almost made me think you hated everything.”

“First off, nothing you have ever made has ever tasted bad,” he pointed a spoon at you. “Second, I'm serious. Everything is great, I can’t decide what is best.”

“Maybe I’ll just make everything.”

“Sounds a tad exhausting.”

“Yes but I could make a little bit the day before and the rest the next day.”

“That’s an idea,” Marcus sympathized while taking apart the tart and throwing the pieces into his mouth. “If you need a helping hand, I’ve got two.”

“I can’t ask you that, you’re a guest. Guests don’t cook or clean. When you're here on Hanks-giving, I want you to be relaxed, not working.” you chimed as you grabbed plates to place them in the sink. You desperately needed a distraction so you could stop watching his mouth.

Marcus paused his movement, “I’m invited?”

“Of course you are! I can’t make you my guinea pig and then not let you see the end result!”

A giant smile graced his face as Marcus stood to bring more plates over to wash, “Thanks,” he quietly said into your ear as he leaned over to grab a towel to dry the dishes as you washed.

Your stomach fluttered when his arm brushed against yours as the two of you quietly chatted about the rest of the meals you would serve in the coming days.

Vegetables’n Potatoes

Marcus definitely had a pep in his step now. Work always dragged around the holidays; everyone would go on and on about getting out of work early to go be with family. Marcus understood the feeling well, he used to be like that. Back when he was married, he looked forward to having time off. He loved spending long mornings in bed and late nights cuddled up near a fire. He found himself wondering what the holidays would look like with kids running around the home or even fur babies running amok. That was before the divorce of course.

These days Marcus listened with envy as his coworkers jabbered about their own traditions, where they were traveling to, and silly family remedies that they could never stop laughing at. He had that once; he even almost had that again, until the engagement was called off. Even a year after the broken engagement and years after the divorce, Marcus still felt the sting of loneliness pinch him.

But then you came in.

It wasn’t easy to admit that he was interested in you. You were friendly, interesting, and beautiful. Before he would have jumped at the chance to take you out on a date, but he had jumped at the chance to enter relationships quickly before and those all ended in disaster. He learned his lesson, several times over, and decided to take things slow. Too damn slow his heart would beat at him. But he had to take things slow, he couldn’t take the hurt again. And honestly he was having fun with you. He loved the way you talked to him, so easy and smooth. He was fascinated in the way you moved, specifically in your home when you were in your element. But what Marcus loved most was that you were so invested in him. You asked about work, about his plans, about his past, what he wanted or needed. You wanted to know his thoughts and feelings about things both mundane and important. Honestly you had become the first person he would talk to about any sort of news, small or big, you were the first person to pop in his mind and you seemed to hold him in the same esteem. Out of all the relationships he had in the past, you were the first to make Marcus feel important.

The man adored you to say the least, your amazing cooking skills were a bonus. For the first time in many months Marcus was excited for the holiday, partaking in the office water cooler talk about coming holiday plans and memories. He knew it wasn’t a big deal to be a guinea pig for your food prep, but he wanted to reassure you and help. Even as he practically skipped down the hall to his own door, just to quickly put his bag away and round his way to your apartment, he could feel the flitter and flight of childish giddiness in his stomach.

As always, you appeared with a smile for Marcus, one that he mirrored.

“Just in time, turkey pig!” you beamed, opening the door for him to enter.

Marcus chuckled as he engulfed you in a quick hug, “turkey pig?”

“Guinea pig seems off.”

“Right, I was fine with guinea pig, but turkey pig feels like an insult,” Marcus joked.

“Well I’ll make up for it by ravishing you with heaps of food,” you presented Marcus with another full table, this time it was loaded with potatoes and vegetables.

Marcus deflated as he looked longingly at the buffet, “At this rate, I’m gonna need to stop wearing belts.”

Your laugh rang in his ears as you ushered him to sit and eat up. Spooning a load of creamed brussel sprouts onto his plate with a helping of toasted garlic mashed potatoes, Marcus listened as you described the near disaster you had earlier with the mixer. He laughed and clutched his sides as he ate up the corn casserole. You divided your own share of the green bean casserole from the mashed sweet potatoes as he recounted some of the tales that his coworkers told at work about their own holiday traditions. Leaning back in his chair, he played with his serving of balsamic roasted baby carrots and medley of holiday roasted vegetables around with his fork, but declined to touch the baked sweet potato.

It was late into the evening that the conversation finally drifted off into a comfortable silence. Marcus studied you as you slowly packed away some leftovers. He watched as you slowly swayed to the music that softly hummed through the air. Quietly standing up and patting over to the kitchen, where you danced, he found himself unable to stop his feet from mirroring your movements. He found himself wishing to step in and take you in his arms as he would slowly rock the two of you in a steady motion together.

He wondered what you would do, if you would join him and take the lead. If you would let him take care of you. Or maybe you would just jump out of his arms and smack him in the face. But maybe this was his chance, to take this a step forward and make all those dreams of his come true. But it could be a step back, this could be the end of a friendship with no chance of repair. He spun when you spun. He stepped when you stepped. He even mimicked your shuffle and tiny shake you did to the soft beat. But not once did he step closer to you. Not just yet he voiced to his heart, we need to be patient.

But one finally twirl soon put an end to that as you twirled right into Marcus’ open arms. Colliding with the man who stumbled to stop you from falling to the floor with a bowl of mashed potatoes. Staggering back with you held, or rather clutched, in his arms, Marcus paused to take in this moment. Alarms rang in his head that this is what he had been waiting for, what he wanted. But as quickly as the moment happened, you quickly spun him out of it as your laughter echoed through the apartment.

“Shit, did I almost take the both of us out with my crappy dancing!”

Marcus smiled at your laughter, “I don’t think it was that bad.”

“You're being nice, I’m awful,” you shouted as you stood up on your own and walked to the refrigerator, still laughing and smiling.

He watched as you walked out of the moment he was having but mirrored your smile as soon as you turned back to him. The poor man couldn’t help but smile when you smiled. “Not as awful as those sweet potatoes,” he gave a wink to your astonished face.

Your giggle soon traveled through the apartment again causing Marcus to join in. He could never not join in your laughter.

“Yeah, I suppose sweet potatoes are completely out. I don't even know why anyone likes those things!” you rubbed your face as your nonstop laughter had started to hurt your face.

Marcus couldn’t help himself anymore. He walked up to you and took your hands away and replaced them with his. Slowly he rubbed small circles into your muscles, watching your wide eyes stare back at him. Holding his own breath as he looked for any signs of discomfort, he continued to ease your eyes closed.

“Tonight was great, I can’t wait to see what you have prepared for tomorrow,” Marcus whispered into your temple which he followed up with a kiss and a smile. Grabbing his work jacket, Marcus exited your apartment, leaving you dead silent. With a hop and a skip to his apartment, the agent was rapidly putting together a plan and he needed some time to prepare for tomorrow. His heart pounded with joy.

Pie

The wood flooring of your apartment was wearing away as you ran a steady track around your dinner table. Flour, chocolate, bread crumbs, and pecans were thrown about the kitchen. The sink was full to the brim of bowls and utensils, and even some more used measuring cups set aside. The turkey samples, stuffing, and pies were all done and set, really the dinner table never looked better with the mass assortment of desserts. But the mess alluded you, not too long ago you had tried to quell the horde of dirty dishes but found yourself too fidgety as your eyes jumped from the dishes to the door to the hallway. Marcus was running late and you were about to explode. Last night he had stepped so close to you, he was a mere inch from your face. With his arms entangled around you, cradling you from falling, you got a whiff full of the sweet and delicious smell that was Marcus. You were so close to dropping the bowl of food and throwing yourself on him, that you quickly spun out of his arms to get away and not embarrass yourself. But Marcus, that affectionate and beautiful man, just had to step back into your space. He just had to calm you, be with you as he messaged your temple. And then that damn kiss. You could have fainted. You nearly did after he left. And now here you are running in circles, trying to escape your mind and wash dishes, but you flinch with every noise coming from the hall. Giving up on the hopeless mess of dishes, you closed the door to the kitchen, hoping to forget it all. Unfortunately you didn’t know what to do with your time now.

It had been a long night, and a long day, in anticipation of what might happen tonight. You still felt the ghost of Marcus’ hands on you, even felt the linger of his eyes to your lips. There were always hints here and there in the past, but last night was like you were slapped in the face with a turkey. He had told you stories of the dates he had taken past partners out on. Picnics under stars, museums trips, rock concerts, and stay at home dates. It seemed so dreamy to you. And recently you felt like all that gushy lovey stuff was within reach. Marcus Pike, your cozy and humble neighbor turned friend, seemed within reach.

Especially when you received a knock at your door. Jumping from your couch, you practically ran to your door, stopping only to pause so you could compose yourself. Calmly opening the door, you came face to face with a bouquet of flowers, all your favorite. Marcus pulled the flowers down, revealing his glowing smile that elated you.

“I thought that since today is the final test day, your turkey pig could show his gratitude,” Marcus softly divulged to you.

Taking the bouquet and allowing him in, your finger grazed his as you took him in, “You didn’t have to do that. Your honest opinion was enough.”

“No it really isn’t enough,” Marcus grinned as he paused and lifted a box into his arms from the hallway. You didn’t pay any mind to the box since Marcus was known to bring files from work home with him. He closed the door behind him and placed the box on the ground again, “You’ve made my day a thousand times better this last week, I wanted to give you something as beautiful as these nights have been.”

“Marcus…” you sighed out as you placed the flowers in a large vase and centered them on the table amongst the food, “That’s…that’s so sweet.” A gentle smile graced your face. “I’m glad you feel that way cause I feel the same way,” you continued as you turned towards him.

“We should do this more often, not as a favor or as a guinea pig, but as a date. That is if you want that,” Marcus looked hopeful to you.

“I think that’s a great idea.”

“Good then forgive me for thinking that this, tonight, should be our first date.”

“Tonight? But I…” you trailed off as you looked over at the dishes of food set out.

Marcus laughed and squeezed your hand, “Don’t worry, you just sit and I’ll set it up.” He winked at you as you sat and he turned to the box that he had brought in with him earlier.

Flipping the lid off, Marcus brought out a portable record player that was in the shape of a briefcase. Opening up, he grabbed a record from the box and placed it on the player, allowing the music of one of your favorite artists to flow through the air. He then placed and lit several candles around your apartment and on your table. Lowering the intensity of the lights in your apartment, he then returned to the box and brought out two long flute glasses with a deep red wine to pair with them. Pouring you and him a share, he then grabbed the back of the chair you were sitting in and scooched you closer to his chair, chuckling as you let out a small squeak.

Marcus placed a quick kiss to your head before sitting down beside you. His hand lingered on your knee as he grabbed his wine and lifted it to you. Obliging him in his toast, you lifted your wine as well.

“A small toast for happy times, homey nights, and hopeful wishes,” Marcus’ eyes crinkled as he admired you.

You smiled wide at the man before you, “I’m surprised you didn’t just say horny night.”

Marcus busted out laughing. Leaning forward to you as you squeezed his hand, he considered you for a short moment, “We’ll save that toast for later, I promise.”

You sipped your wine before jumping in to dish out portions, just as you had done the past two nights. Before the two of you were small portions of turkey and stuff, all different in taste and style, all glowing in a warm delicious splendor. But Marcus, always strung along by his sweet tooth, looked on to the pies. You laughed as he grabbed your hand and pulled you over to the desserts, catching you in his lap as you knocked into him. With his arm around your waist and his head perched on your shoulder, you squirmed only slightly as you went to describe the variety of pies.

You pointed out the classic apple, pecan pie, and pumpkin pie that sat before him, feeling his hands rub up and down your waist and hips, making you lean into him. The sweet turtle cheesecake was next, dribbling with chocolate that made your mouth wet just as Marcus’ fingers slid down to your legs and quickly returned up to your waist. Your breath hitched to his movement, stopping you from continuing your speech, which then stopped his own roaming. You started again on the next dessert and he started with his roaming. You huffed to yourself, this son of a bitch knew what he was doing. As you described the pecan pie cheesecake next, Marcus nuzzled into your neck just as his hands glided down to your thighs again. Firmly you instructed him on how hard it was…to bake and whip up the bright pinkish cranberry pie, flattening your hands on his to keep them firmly on your thighs. The apple butter pie was next, a delicious pie that was the sweetest with a crunchy crumb top, one that you decided you could dine on for the rest of your life just as Marcus decided to widen his hands so his thumbs brushed the inside of your thighs. The last dessert, mini piecakens, was good for travel, you advised him as you squirmed your ass against Marcus’ tenting pants.

“Which should we try first?” his husky voice heated your ear.

“This,” you said firmly as you turned to him and slotted your lips to his.

Turkey’n Stuffing

The dinner table was not a comfy spot, but it was where Marcus laid you out and devoured your neck. It all happened so quickly, but it was obvious the two of you wanted this to happen badly. In a blink of an eye you were kissing your neighbor lying underneath him. As soon as you had started kissing him, he had returned the favor in kind, holding you tight to him as roughly kissed you back. He wrapped one arm around your waist and the other knotted into your hair, holding your head to his as his tongue ran across your lips. Opening your mouth wider, Marcus’ tongue plunged into your mouth just as a moan erupted from you.

You felt his hands shift to your hips, moving under your shirt in a tight grip that held you up in the air and then brought you down to grind you down onto him. Another moan broke through the air, this time from Marcus as bucked up to you when you tangled your hand into his hair. You quickly went to attack his neck with your lips as he gasped out and quickly moved his hands under your ass, hauling you up to his chest as he stood and quickly pushed several of the foods aside to place you flat on the table.

“I’ve dreamed of having you like this so many times,” Marcus whispered as he crawled on top of the table, hovering above you. His imagination had gotten away from him on many different occasions as he thought about what it would be like to dine on you. Now he was getting his chance. Slowly he trailed his nose against yours, lightly brushing his lips to yours. He soon brought his lips down to your jaw, nibbling down to your neck where he finally paused and looked back up to your closing eyes. His own eyes looked concerned and pleading as he posed one of the most desirable questions you had ever heard, “Would it be ok if I left a mark?”

“Fuck yes Marcus,” you huffed out and stretched your neck out to him. He placed a quick kiss to your throat and then attached his lips and even his teeth to your skin. You felt hot all over your body as the man didn’t let up. You felt the heat of his mouth, the heat of his breath on your sweet skin. You even felt the heat of his body crowding you to the table with his own large frame. But it was the heat building at your core that was most prevalent in your mind. And you so badly wanted Marcus to feel it as well.

Steadily you rocked your hips up to the man, gliding one leg over his hip and pulling him down to you. His hand gripped your leg, securing you to him as he sucked harder at your neck. He only released your neck from his hold when you ran your nails down his back, letting the sound of nails on fabric ring through the apartment.

“Fuck I really want to feel you honey.”

“Take your shirt off,” you commanded Marcus who in turn quickly ripped the work shirt off, displaying his chest to you for a second before he bent his head to the other side of your neck, making sure it would match the previous side. “Can I mark you too?” you asked between breaths as only a mumbled yes came from the busy man.

Red marks ran down Marcus’ back causing him to grind down on you. Every long mark down his body, or clutch of his hair made the desperate man moan and grind down hard on you and to the wood table below the two of you. You on the other hand, were fairing no different. His devotion soon left your neck and traveled down to the opening of your shirt, where his eyes pleaded for you to remove the offending garment; you gladly did.

Marcus’ marks didn’t stop at your neck, the man was on a mission to leave marks all over you as he put his full attention to each one of your breasts. If he wasn’t sucking on one, he was squeezing and massaging the other. Your chants of his name were rewarded with praises.

“Knew from the moment I first moved her I would find someone as special as you.”

“Knew you would taste so sweet, just like your baking.”

“Knew you were so beautiful.”

The man couldn’t stop his mumblings into your skin, even as he finally rip his and your remaining close off, nipping and kissing the rest of your skin, before you finally pulled him back to your mouth with a satisfying, “Fuck me.”

He was happy to comply.

Soup, Sauce, ‘n Sides

Just a week later was the Hanks-giving dinner. In your opinion, the week went by too fast. Marcus had stayed at your place many nights, and on the nights he wasn’t at yours, you were at his place. The two of you texted during the day, called for lunch, and jumped into each other's arms when you both got home. You would come home to “Honey, sweetheart, baby.” His belly was always full just as his heart. The two of you fit together perfectly, especially at night when you and Marcus would be in a tangle of limbs.

On the day of Hanks-giving, you had introduced Marcus to the wonders of monkey bread, gooey and sticky caramel rolls that he happily chowed down. After a long walk together hand in hand around the neighborhood, Marcus graciously helped you prepare the grand meal. Splash played on the TV in the background as you spent long hours in the kitchen. Following your instructions to a T, you and Marcus made quick effective work.

A long flowing rust colored cloth covered the clean table, decorated with small tall candles and flowers that Marcus had bought the previous day. On a separate table near your living room, were dishes full of caramelized onion & goat cheese bites as well as cranberry whipped feta dip with your homemade chips. On the dinner table were two baskets of golden rolls, one porcelain gravy boat full of heated gravy, and a large bowl of vibrant cranberry sauce sat at various spots on the table. Mixed in with the side dishes were the vegetables that Marcus diligently worked on the green bean casserole and the honey balsamic glazed brussels sprouts. While he was busy with the veggies, you worked away on the cornbread stuffing and the roasted garlic mashed potatoes. At the center of the grand table was the roast turkey, glowing all in its beauty.

Your friends had gathered around the table, with glasses of cranberry mimosas in hand. You and Marcus sat at the head of the table, right next to each other. The two of you were close enough that he leaned over from time to time to rub his hand up and down your leg. The beautiful man even whispered praises into your ears as you hummed and fed him bits of your own food.

The dinner went extremely well, and you and your friends spent the rest of the evening watching Forest Gump and The Terminal. Settling for the classics, your guests complimented the two of you on your pumpkin and apple pies. Everyone spaced themselves throughout the living room in various places of cozy and comfort; you and Marcus claimed a large chair to tangle in as the movies play. Marcus dotted your nose with some of his own homemade whipped cream that decorated his slice of pie. He smiled at the giggle you released. Leaning into you, slowly placing his lips to yours, he felt you happily give the smile right back to him back. Pulling back he smiled wider as you giggled louder at the dot of whipped cream that now decorated his face.

“Well how was your Hanks-giving, Agent Pike?” you asked as you scooped the cream off his nose and sucked it off your finger.

Marcus watched you with a raised eyebrow, “The best one I’ve had in a long time, and I think it’s only getting better.”

You agreed as he leaned into you again, smothering you in a heart stopping kiss as Sleepless in Seattle started to play next.

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x you #the mentalist #pedro padcal #marcuspike/you #marcuspike/reader

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