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beautyiindeath · 2 years

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ghostface!eddie smut.

what’s your favorite scary movie? ✧ ˚ · . eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: you were expected a quiet night in, away from your parents as they celebrated their anniversary. what you didn’t expect was your boyfriend surprising you in more ways than one…

cw: 18+ (minors dni). nsfw. heavy smut. knife kink. slight degradation kink. choking. unprotected sex. rough sex. fingering. hematolagnia. blood. manipulation. threats of murder. squirting. oral. slight noncon. tying up / restraint. spanking. pet names. gagging. minor drug use. slight piss kink.

you waved goodbye to your parents as they left for the weekend. it was their twenty-year anniversary and they were taking a quiet vacation to the lakes. you had agreed to watch the house for them whilst they were away, and to take care of the family dog. as their car disappeared, you turned around and stepped back inside, locking the front door behind you.

the dog was whining at the back door to be let out, you unlocked and watched as he ran outside to do his business. it was pretty warm out so you left to door open, allowing him to come and go as he pleased.

you were feeling a little peckish, so you decided to order some pizza. picking up your phone, you dialled the number for the local pizza joint and ordered your usual, chicken and camembert.

there would be at least another hour before your food arrived, so you decided to take a brisk shower. heading upstairs, you went into your bedroom and turned on the speaker, before slipping into the bathroom and taking a hot shower.

wrapping a towel around your body, you unlocked the bathroom door and made your way into your bedroom, singing along to “high for this” by the weeknd, as it played through your speakers.

as you rummaged through your drawers, looking for some fresh underwear, the house phone rang. you held the phone between your ear and shoulder, whilst you pulled on your underwear. “hello?” you asked, but the other line went dead. must be the wrong number, you thought as you put the phone back down onto the receiver.

just as you’d finished fastening the clasp of your bra, the phone rang again. it was the same number. sighing, you picked it up, “hello?” there was no answer, just silence and what sounded like breathing. “hello?” you said again, a slight annoyance in your tone.

the person of the other end finally spoke up, “hello, sweetheart.” their voice had an eerie tone to it, as if they were using a voice altering software.

“who is this?“ you asked. when they didn’t answer, you ended the call. but a few moments later, they called back. you ignored it this time, letting it ring out. but they just continued calling back.

“listen. i don’t know if this is a prank call or you have the wrong number, but either speak or fuck off.” you spat as you picked up the phone. greeted again by silence, you were about to hang up and pull the wire from the wall, but the person on the other end spoke up.

“oh i don’t have the wrong number sweetheart” they said, in that same weird voice as before.

“who is this?” you asked. you heard a low, menacing, chuckle from whoever was calling, “that’s a secret. why don’t you and i play a little game?” they spoke.

whether it was from sheer curiosity or boredom, you decided to play along, “what kind of game?”.

“i’ll ask you some questions, and you will answer them. let’s start with an easy one.” they paused, before speaking again, “what is your favourite scary movie?”.

you leaned back against the dresser, twirling the phone wire between your fingers, “it’s scream.” you answered.

mmmhm. the voice groaned, “do you think you’d be a helpless victim? or would you make it to the sequel?”.

you stifled a laugh, “oh i’d make it to the sequel. i’m not stupid enough to get killed.”

“then why did you leave the back door open whilst you went for a shower?” the voice teased. your heart skipped a beat. but you held your composure.

“it’s a safe neighborhood. i have no reason to worry…” you lied, because now, you were slightly worried. how did they know you left the door open? maybe it was one of your neighbours kids trying to scare you.

the voice chuckled again, “oh sweetheart, there is plenty of reason why you should worry. you ought to be more careful…”

your fingers fumbled against the receiver, debating whether or not to end the call. “don’t think about hanging up, unless you want me to slit that pretty little throat of yours.” the voice interrupted.

when you didn’t reply, they spoke up again, “do you understand?”

you tried your best not to sound afraid, but you ended up stumbling on your words anyway, “y-yes. yes i understand.”

“good girl. now, do exactly as i say.” the air in the room suddenly felt very cold. your body jolting as shivers ran throughout your body, the goosebumps rippled across your skin. yet you found yourself feeling hot and flushed.

“first of all, i want you to go and sit at the end of your bed. take the phone with you.” not wasting any time, you made you way over to the edge of your bed, holding the house phone in your hand, careful not to press any buttons that might end the call.

“good girl. now i want you to close your eyes. if you so much as squint, i’ll gut you like a fish. understand?” you felt as if the air was being ripped out of your lungs, you replied a simple yes, just audible enough for both you and the caller to hear. you breathed heavily before shutting your eyes, tight. your hands shook as you held the phone to your ear. after a few moments the call went quiet, as if the person was no longer on the other end of the line. remembering their words, you didn’t dare open your eyes.

the sound of creaking floorboards sent your heart racing, the pace quickening as footsteps got louder and closer. before you could take another breath, a large gloved hand wrapped around your mouth.

you could feel hot breath against your neck, “don’t scream,” they whispered in your ear. you could feel something soft, like silk, brushing against your cheek. adrenaline pulsed through your veins and your reflexes made your eyes shoot open.

“i told you not to open your eyes.” the voice spat. your eyes adjusted to the light, and you saw tall figure stood a few metres in front of you. their body clothed in black jeans and a leather jacket. their face hidden behind a ghostface mask. your breath caught in your throat, causing you to choke on the lack of oxygen.

“don’t look so scared sweetheart. i thought scream was your favorite scary movie…” they teased.

“now,” they continued, stepping closer, their hand still over your mouth as they used the other one to press a knife against your neck, “i told you not to open your eyes. but you didn’t listen to me… do you know what happens to those who disobey me?”

you gulped, shaking your head, no. “they get punished,” they hissed. the knife was now pressing into your jugular, piercing the skin. you tried to plead with them, forgetting that your mouth was covered by their hand. “do not scream.” they said as they slowly removed their hand and the knife.

you struggled to control you breathing, your eyes blinking continuously as you’d tried to fight back the tears. “p-please don’t hurt me. i didn’t mean to open my eyes, it was just instinct.” you mumbled, a few stray tears trickled down your cheeks.

the person closed the gap between you, crouching down to meet your height, their hand reached up and brushed against your cheek, their thumb wiping away the wetness.

“oh sweetheart, look at you,” they said, their masked face looking you up and down, their hand still placed against your cheek. “you’re so frightened right now, aren’t you?”. although you couldn’t see them, you could feel the intensity of their eyes boring into you. feeling scared and intimidated, you looked down at the floor, not wanting to feel their eyes on you any longer. you nodded your head in answer to their question, your bottom lip began to quiver as you tried to hold back the sobs that were on the verge of leaving your lips.

you felt their hand move under your chin, pulling your face up aggressively so that you had to look at them, “so darling, why are you here all alone?” they asked. lie. you thought. lie to them and pretend your boyfriend is on his way. “i-im not,” you replied, “i mean… i wont be. my boyfriend is actually on his way over. maybe you should go before he gets here. you’ll get hurt if he finds you here.”

the person chuckled, before their hands gripped your jaw tightly, causing you to wince, “don’t fucking lie to me. i know your boyfriend isn’t on his way over here.”

“h-he is. i promise. i’m not lying.” you tried your best to sound convincing. but it clearly didn’t work, as you found the knife pressed against your throat again. this time piercing the skin, so that blood trickled down your chest.

the masked person shook their head, “i really don’t like liars.” they grabbed ahold of your wrists and pulled you up from the bed, dragging you over to the floor length mirror on the other side of your room. the knife was still against your throat. their other hand was wrapped around your waist, pinning your body against theirs. they towered over you, leaning down to whisper into your ear, “if you tell me the truth, i might consider letting you live.”

you trembled under their touch, your eyes fixed on the mirror as you gazed at yourself, not wanting to look at them. “so,” they spoke, “tell me the truth sweetheart. your boyfriend isn’t coming over, is he?”. you tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out, your throat was dry and sore. you shook you head no, biting into your bottom lip, piercing the skin and drawing blood.

the masked figure loosened their grip on you, their hand reached up and tucked a strand of stray hair behind you ear, “good girl.” they said.

slowly, the knife left your throat. it was now travelling lightly down your chest, your heart was pounding. the room was eerily silent apart from the sound of your shaky, uneven, breaths. the knife came to a rest at your hips bones, the gloved hand twisting the tip against the bones, hard enough to cause pain but not enough to pierce the skin.

“don’t move.” the voice spoke as they stepped away from. you stayed frozen to the spot, unable to move even if you wanted too. you waited, watching through the mirror as they rummaged through your drawers. they pulled out a pair of black tights and threw to on your bed before walking back over to you. “put your arms behind your back.” they said, as they unbuckled the belt on their jeans. with trembling hands, you placed them behind your back. grabbing hold of your wrists, they forcibly held them at the base of your spine, using the belt to tightly them together. their large gloved hand snaked up your arm, gripping your bicep tightly, using it to drag you across the room and back over to your bed. they spun you around to face them before they pushed you down. their large hands gripped into your waist as they pushed you further up.

the leather belt was digging uncomfortably into your skin, you could already feel the bruises forming. you whimpered say the knife travelled across your skin again, stopping at the hem of your lace panties. “as pretty as these look on you, you won’t be needing them.” they slide the knife under the hem, cutting through the thin straps on either side, causing the fabric to pool between your thighs, leaving you exposed. tracing the knife down your thigh, they brought it down onto the material of your panties. the dug the knife in and slowly dragged them down to the edge of the bed, discarding them on the bedroom floor. you instinctively closed your legs, feeling embarrassed and violated, only to have them thrust apart by the large, gloved hands. you quivered under their touch.

with one hand holding you down, the other brought the knife up your chest, slicing at the material of your bra. it split in half, the fine lacey material gathered against your breasts. using the knife, they pulled each strap down your arms, leaving your breasts exposed. “such a pretty girl.” the voice spoke.

“p-please. please don’t hurt me.” you begged, tears streaming down your face. “i don’t want to hurt you sweetheart. but you disobeyed me,” the large frame was now hovering over you, their hands either side of your head as they looked down at you. “like i said, i might consider letting you live. if you behave for me, we can have some fun together…”

you already knew what their answer would be, but you asked anyway, “what kind of fun?”. one of their hands softly caressed your cheek, wiping away the tears before slowly moving down your chest, coming to rest on the cup of your left breast. “i think you know what kind of fun i’m looking for, sweetheart.”

you breathed shakily as the hand massaged your breast. the leather material felt cold against your flesh, making your nipples come to a point. you shut your eyes, trying to fight the natural urges of your body.

“keep those pretty eyes closed for me.” the voice spoke, you felt the pressure from their weight leaving the bed. you kept your eyes tightly shut, scared of what might happen if you opened them again. the cold gloved hands wrapped around the back your head, they lifted it slowly from the mattress before placing something soft over your eyes, tying it into a knot, blindfolding you. blinding you of your senses, your hearing was now heightened. you could hear every small sound. from the sound of the mask hitting the floor, along with the gloves, to the unzipping of their jacket, and the removal of their jeans.

soft, hands slid up your thighs and across your bare chest, sending shivers throughout your entire body. you gasped as a hand tightly gripped your throat. “don’t be scared, i promise you’ll enjoy this.” the person spoke lowly. the strange voice altering now gone. there was a familiarity in their voice that you couldn’t quite place. but you could recognise it was a male speaking.

you felt his cold lips against your breast, kissing the smooth flesh. you took a sharp breath in, a tingling growing in your stomach. his wet lips found your nipples, licking and sucking on each one before sinking his teeth in. as you whimpered, you could feel him smirking against your hard nipple. his hand slipped down between your thighs, he was quick to find your clit and began rubbing his thumb over it in circles, causing your back to arch up and a soft moan to escape your lips.

“i knew you’d like it, you dirty little slut.” he spat, his lips finding your flesh again as he sucked on your clavicle, making sure to leave his mark. he slid two long fingers between you folds, feeling your wetness against his skin caused him to groan. he rubbed his fingers between your folds before sliding them both into your tight walls. “so wet for me.” he mumbled against your chest. your heart was racing and your mind was cloudy. you knew you should’ve been screaming out for help, begging this man to stop. but part of you was turned on, you didn’t want his skin to leave yours. adrenaline rushed through your veins.

he held you still as his fingers jerked inside of you, he pushed them in, right up to the knuckle. you couldn’t see it, but he smirked as your walls tightened when he curled his fingers up. he thrust his fingers in and out quickly, hitting that sweet spot of yours. you bit down on your bottom lip, trying to suppress your moans, you could feel the coil in your stomach tightening with each thrust he made. you almost cried out when his fingers left the warmth of your pussy. the look on your face was enough for him to know you missed his touch. you could feel his hot breath fanning against your pussy, “pathetic little bitch. you’re so weak.” he rasped before his lips connected with your clit, taking it between his teeth as he sucked on it. you couldn’t hold back the moans any longer, they slipped out of your mouth as the pleasure took over. his wet tongue slide down your folds, licking up your juices. his nose nuzzled against your clit as his tongue flicked in and out of you, causing your walls to clench and the pit in your stomach to tighten even more.

forgetting your hands were tied, you tried to reach down to grasp on his hair, whimpering once you realised they were trapped. you gripped onto the sheet beneath you, vibrations erupting through your body as he continued devouring you. slowly his licked from your slit and back up to your clit, nibbling on the throbbing nub. enjoying every moment as he watched you unfold beneath him. his large hands forced your thighs further apart and he hoisted your hips up from the bed. using one hand to keep you in place, the other was wrapped around his throbbing cock as he guided it to your entrance. he circled the tip of his cock around your opening, teasing you as your pussy ached for more. your hips bucked up, begging for him to be inside you.

he slid the tip in slowly, a gasp leaning both your lips, “you’re such a fucking whore. i’m gonna make you scream sweetheart. this is gonna be the best fuck of your life.”

without warning, he thrust his full length inside of you. a whimper of both pain and pleasure left your lips. your walls were tight around his thick, throbbing cock. one hand gripped the skin around your hips, the other was wrapped around your throat, pinning you down. he grunted as he deepened his thrusts, fucking you hard and fast, the sound of your skin slapping against his echoed throughout the room. you could feel your legs giving in, shaking uncontrollably as he pounded into you. he was going so hard that tears started spilling from your eyes, soaking the fabric that blinded them. his hand freed itself from your hips, resting on your stomach as he pressed down, causing pain to ripple through you, “you feel me here,” he said, rubbing his hand over your stomach, “and you love it, don’t you sweetheart?”. you nodded your head yes, struggling to form coherent words.

he pulled out of you, flipping you over onto your front, he dragged your by your hips down the edge of the bed so that you were in the stickman position. he held your face down into the mattress, as he slid inside your walls again. he went slow and deep, each thrust getting deeper until his entire length was inside you. you could feel yourself unravelling, getting closer and closer to your high. that coil in your stomach was twisting and turning, pain shooting through your legs as your body trembled against him. you moaned loudly as he ploughed into your sweet hole, his thrusts getting more aggressive now. you couldn’t hold on much longer. you felt your walls tighten around him, that familiar feeling in your stomach building up.

“scream for me.” he groaned, his hand snaking around the front of your throat, gripping tightly as he choked you.

you screamed out in pleasure, your cum enveloping his cock as you came for him. he kept going, groaning as his cock slid against your slippery walls. you could feel another orgasm coming already, your head was going dizzy as your body became overstimulated. you came a second time, your juices squirting everywhere. your body succumbed to the intensity and you felt yourself going limp, but he didn’t stop. his grip on your throat was getting tighter and you feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head. his thrusts were getting weaker now, as he too was coming close to his high. he took his hands from around your throat and tightly gripped your hips as he ploughed deep thrusts into you, low groans leaving his lips. your whole body ached, the only thing holding you up was his tight grip on you.

he moaned as he thrust into you one final time, his cum dripping out of you, his breathing heavy. he pulled out slowly, a mixture of both his and your cum pooled onto the mattress, your body finally collapsing. his shaking hands unbound your wrists and he removed the fabric from over your eyes, but you still kept them closed. he gently flipped you over so you were now on your back. you felt his lips against your neck, he placed a few sweet kisses there, his breath hot against your burning skin. you could feel him move so that he was hovering over you, his hands made indents on the mattress at either side of your head.

“open your eyes for me baby.” he said, in a much gentler tone. if you weren’t so overcome by everything you would’ve recognised his voice instantly. slowly, your fluttered your eyes open. squinting as they adjusted to the light.

his long brown hair was a sweaty mess against his face, his familiar deep brown eyes looking straight into yours. a smirk playing on his lips as your eyes widened in realisation, “e-eddie?” you mumbled, as you looked up at your boyfriend, finding just enough energy to say his name.

“hello sweetheart.” he grinned.

you barely had a second to gather your thoughts before his lips came crashing down onto yours. you moaned against him, allowing him to slide his tongue in. the kiss deepened, his tongue circling around your mouth as you both grew hungry for the taste of each other. still exhausted, you let him take control, his lips sucking the tip of your tongue, before moving to your bottom lip as he took it between his teeth and nibbled.

your now free hands travelled up into his hair, gripping tightly into his tangled curls as you pulled his body closer to yours, wanting to savour every second. eddie pulled his lips away from yours, the two of you breathless from the intensity.

“did you enjoy yourself sweetheart?” he asked, his eyes looking into yours.

you feel a rush of heat come to your cheeks, a subtle smirk playing on your lips, “i think you know i did,” he smiled at that, he took great pleasure in making you enjoy yourself, “i cant believe you had it in you.”

“i loved hearing you scream.” eddie spoke, his eyes looking down your body, pausing at your chest. he smirked before leaning down, placing sweet kisses along your collarbones. you hummed in response, enjoying his touch. he looked up at your through his lashes, as his wet tongue licked up the blood from your jugular. he groaned as he swallowed, tasting the mixture of your blood and sweat. “you taste delicious,” he grinned.

you could feel yourself burning up again, the sexual urges of your body wanting more. eddie could sense this too. he stood up and placed his hands under your body, carrying you across the hall and downstairs into the kitchen. he set you down on the counter top, spreading your thighs so he could stand between them. he leaned in for another kiss but was interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell.

“that would be the pizza.” you said.

eddie brought a finger to your lips, beckoning you to be quiet. he grabbed a towel from the dryer, wrapped it around his waist and headed to the front door. you could hear the mumbles of conversation between him and the delivery driver. you waited patiently for him to come back.

eddie walked in, tossing the pizza box onto the dining table, before dropping the towel from his waist and making his way back over to you and between your thighs. “did you enjoy the knife play?” he asked, his large hands massaging your hips.

“yes,” you replied, “it was scary… but also hot.”

mmhmm. he groaned, “i’m so glad you enjoyed that baby.” his hand reached behind you, as he took a kitchen knife from the rack. you could feel the coil in your stomach clenching, wondering what he was going to do with you next.

he dragged the knife carefully beneath your jaw and across your throat, stopping above your collarbone. “you tasted so sweet. i want to taste you again.” eddie dug the tip of the knife into your flesh, his eyes lighting up as the blood trickled down. you gasped as he dug it in further, more blood dripping down your chest and over your breast. he placed the knife beside you, his hungry lips connected with your flesh, he began sucking up the blood from the small mark he had left in your skin. a small groan left his mouth. taking your left breast in his hand, he squeezed it as his tongue flicked over your nipple. you moaned softly as his tongue travelled up your breast, licking up the droplets of blood. “fuck.” he murmured.

pushing you down gently onto your back, eddie bent down between your thighs. you could see leftover traces of your blood still on lips, making your pussy twitch with pleasure. his eyes didn’t leave yours, he looked up at you as he trailed small kisses up your thighs and across your stomach. you writhed underneath him, desperate to feel him between your legs again. “such an impatient girl.” he smirked, knowing exactly how badly you wanted to feel his touch there.

as soon as his lips found your slit, you moaned his name. you knew it drove him crazy when you did this. his tongue slid up your slit slowly, triggering another moan. eddie eagerly whipped his tongue in and out of your soaking hole, licking up your cum and swallowing it. his mouth travelled up to your clit, nibbling your throbbing nub, his fingers spreading your dripping cum all over your folds. your body shuddered, processing the intense stimulation. as eddie variated between your clit and your folds, you fondled your breasts with your hands, your head and back arching with pleasure.

you whimpered from the loss of touch as eddie removed his lips from your pussy, “be right back sweetheart.” he uttered before leaving the room, the sound of his footsteps heading upstairs.

you lay hot and sweaty on the countertop, waiting for him to return. when he did, he had a spliff between his lips, which he lit up as he made his way back over to you. he inhaled the smoke before blowing it back out. placing it back between his lips, he grabbed hold of your hips and pulled up closer to him, beckoning you to sit up. you rested against your elbows, watching him as he inhaled and exhaled the cannabis. he took another hit, keeping the smoke in his mouth. he cupped your chin and brought your face to his. using his thumb, he parted your lips and blew the smoke into your mouth. you inhaled it before blowing it back out, watching the smoke dance between the two of you.

eddie put the remainder of the spliff out, tossing it into the sink. “i’m not done having my way with you.” he smirked, pulling you down from the counter. “go into the living room and bend over the couch for me like a good girl.” he said. you did as you were told.

you felt one of his cold hands massaging your ass, his nails digging into your flesh. your hips bucked and a whimper left your lips as he brought his hand down harshly against your flesh. his cock was already growing hard for you as he watched you writhe under his touch. he brought his hand down harder this time, the metal from his rings stinging your cheeks. you tightened your legs, your body aching for more.

“you’re such a needy girl,” he grunted, his hand connecting harshly with your skin again, causing you to moan. “mmm, you like that don’t you? you want it harder?”

“fuck, eddie.” you breathed heavily, “yes baby. i want it harder. give me your worst.”

gripping onto the cushions, you bit down onto your lip as you felt the harsh metal from his belt buckle slap against your skin. “you’re not going to walk for a week once i’m done with you.” eddie grumbled. both pain and pleasure radiated through your body, your ass stinging from each stroke he brought upon you. each time was harder than the last. wetness was pooling between your thighs.

“twenty.” eddie moaned, dropping the belt to the floor after inflicting twenty blows to your ass, which was now red and raw. you trembled as you felt his hot breath fan against you, his hands spreading your asscheeks apart so he could get a perfect view of your tight little pussy. “mmmm,” he mumbled, “my favourite meal.”

his tongue quickly got to work on your pussy, lapping up your juices, his nose nuzzled between both of your holes. you could feel your orgasm building up inside your stomach, begging for its release. eddie sucked your slit harder, taking its soft flesh between his teeth as he savoured your taste. not able to hold it any longer, you let yourself go, moaning eddie’s name over and over again, your toes curling. you squirted for him, a mixture of piss and cum dripping everywhere. eddie swallowed it all, licking every inch of you clean.

gripping your ponytail, eddie pulled you up, your body colliding with his. “i know you’re tired sweetheart, but i’m so hard for you right now. i need you to be a good girl and relieve me.” he whispered into your ear, nibbling on your lobe. using his hands, he pushed down on your shoulders, forcing you onto your knees. he moved across the room, to stand in front of you, his hand moving up and down his hard shaft as he pleased himself.

with his other hand, eddie pried your mouth open, “nice and wide for me baby girl. i want you to take me all.”

you obediently opened your mouth as far as it could go, looking up at him through glazed eyes. he slowly slid his cock into your mouth. you closed your lips around him, causing a low grown to leave his mouth. eddie placed his hand on either side of your head, watching as your mouth moved up and down his growing length. he thrusted forward eagerly, wanting to feel his cock hit the back of your throat. he smirked when you gagged slightly. “that’s a good girl.”

wanting to please him as best you could, you tightened your lips around his cock. sucking, taking his full length hard and fast, tears spilling from your eyes every time he hit the back of your throat. you looked up at him, watching as he bit down on his lip, the sight of you sending him wild. slowing down your pace, your loosened your grip around his cock, letting your teeth graze against his skin. you could feel him twitching, getting closer to his high. moaning against his cock, your gripped onto his hips and gave it your all, hollowing your cheeks as you gave him the best blow of his life. unable to hold back, he let himself come undone inside you, his salty cum filling your mouth. you pulled away from him, swallowing every last bit, using your fingers to wipe up the cum that trickled out. eddie gazed at you, panting and watching as you sucked the remaining cum from your fingers.

he placed his hand underneath your chin, gently pulling you to your feet. as you stumbled, he caught you, pulling you close to his chest. “come sweetheart, you need to get some rest.” he scooped your tired body into his arms and carried you to the bedroom. when he laid you down on the bed, you crashed almost immediately, your body over come with the pleasure.

#eddie munson smut #eddie x reader #eddie smut #eddie munson #ghostface #ghost face #ghostface smut #ghost face smith #ghostface!eddie #kink smut #knife kink #knifeplay #blood kink #smut #mxf smut #stranger things smut #Spotify

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ashenmind · 6 months

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Aya and Mystia go looking for an ally in their anti-yakitori campaign,

But not only does okuu not care, she gets peckish and pulls out a chicken sandwich mid argument.

#personally I think it’s only fair

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outercrasis · 2 years

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Green Light

Pairing: Marcus Pike x F!Reader

Word Count/Rating: 6.7k / Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Warnings: Friends to lovers 💕, SMUT (seriously 18+ ONLY), dom/sub dynamics, unprotected sex, rough(ish?) sex, oral (f&m), fingering, a little bit of spanking, hair pulling, dirty talk, a handful of good girl’s, mention of leg hair on reader, reader has hair that can be pulled/have fingers threaded through it

Summary: You accidentally see a video you aren't supposed to. Will it end your friendship with Marcus or bring the two of you that much closer?

A/N: Big thank you to @honestly-shite for reading this over for me 💕 I'd also like to thank @absurdthirst for reblogging the gif you see above, which broke through my writer's block on this idea and gave me the inspiration I needed. And last but not least, I'd like to mention the shameless nod to @whataperfectwasteoftime that I simply couldn't resist putting in here (specifically her Control series) 💕💕

You knock, tapping your toes on the doormat that reads hi. i’m mat. while you wait. The mat was an impulse buy after realizing the front entryway was littered with sand from having nothing to help take it off people’s shoes before they stepped inside. Marcus is obstinate in his belief that the mat didn’t help all that much and yet he’s never moved it. It brings a smile to your face.

The door swings open to reveal a very cozy looking Marcus. He has his sweatpants and a white tshirt on, which you know to mean he's already settled in for the night. You're surprised you don't hear a movie playing from the living room.

Marcus' brow furrows in that endearing way you love. "Didn't you have a date?"

"Yes and you can guess how it ended," you say before pushing into the house.

Marcus closes the door, leaning against it while he watches you haphazardly take off your shoes and jacket. "What happened?"

You sigh. "He wouldn't stop talking about crypto and at the end of the meal told me he doesn't believe in tipping."

"Yeesh. Where do you keep finding these guys?"

"Oh you know, apps and whatever else." You wave Marcus off, wandering into his kitchen to poke around his cupboards. You hadn't even mentioned your date asking you to order the cheapest item on the menu, leaving you feeling peckish.

Marcus pops open the fridge, pulling out a couple drinks for the two of you. You take yours graciously before finding an open bag of goldfish. Score.

You give the bag a little shake, asking permission to go ahead with your chosen snack. Marcus nods, leaning against the kitchen counter. It takes all your strength to not look him over. It's not your fault he looks so good all stretched out like that.

"Whatever happened to finding someone naturally?" Marcus asks. He can't even help himself, the big sap.

"That's for romantics and people with time, of which I have neither," you tell him. It's not a lie, although it's not really the truth. You did find someone naturally, except he's perfectly unavailable despite only standing two feet away. He doesn't need to know all these dates are a vain attempt to distract from that.

Marcus had moved into your little beach town just over two years ago and while the rest of your community was too chicken to figure out his story, you dove right in.

Early retirement from the FBI art crimes department, leaving a nice job and home in DC for a small fixer-upper a short walk from the beach. When you asked what he was going to do he smiled and said he was figuring that out. The two of you hit it off from the start.

You're not entirely sure when your feelings fell from platonic to romantic. By the time you figured it out though you were far in the deep end and Marcus was staunch in his resolve to not date.

He had given you his whole sordid romantic history, explaining his plan to remain single until he could be comfortable with just Marcus. His therapist thought it was a good idea too – having the time and space to figure out himself before investing heavily in someone else again. Who are you to argue with that?

Rather than lose an amazing friend, you chose to bury your feelings. You're an adult. You can control yourself. It even worked for a little while. Recently though, the romantic feelings have been rearing their head too often for your liking, resulting in your serial dates.

You'd hoped that at least one of your dates would sweep you off your feet, allowing your feelings for Marcus to return to purely that of a friend. Each one keeps falling short. They're too tall, too short, too loud, too quiet, too self-important, too serious, too childish, the list goes on and on. You know why they do. They aren't him. They aren't Marcus.

Now, stupidly, you've decided to lick your wounds from another failure in the home of the man unknowingly causing your problems. You hate that simply being around him is already making you feel better.

You breeze into the living room, snagging your usual spot on the couch. The TV isn't on as you expected but you spot his laptop on the coffee table. Marcus Pike spent his Friday night doing some online shopping then. He has mentioned that he’s been looking for a new easel lately, unhappy with the size and capabilities of his current one.

Marcus sits down with you and you fall into your normal positions. Both of your legs up on the cushions, with Marcus pulling the blanket off the back of the couch to cover your perpetually cold feet. You’re especially grateful as the stockings you have on don’t offer much in the way of warmth.

"No movie tonight?" you ask around a handful of goldfish.

"It didn't feel right without you here to talk over it," Marcus jokes. You ignore the heavy thump of your heart, throwing a goldfish at Marcus' head in faux offense.

He opens his mouth wide, catching it expertly and crunching down on the tiny snack. The grin on his face is extremely self satisfied, prompting you to throw another at him. You should have expected him to catch that one too.

From there you fall into your usual routine. You chat for a little while, with you being careful to avoid heavy discussion of your recent rash of dates, before Marcus inevitably finds a movie for you to watch. Tonight he’s chosen one of your favorites, a touching and small gesture that doesn’t go unnoticed.

Your legs end up tangling in Marcus’ – in part seeking the heat that he radiates and because you will gladly accept any form of physical contact he gives you, despite all the alarm bells in your head screaming. It's completely foolish and maybe even a bit pathetic to allow, but then your foot runs along the top of his thigh and any real thoughts go right out the window. It’s a good thing you’ve already seen this movie a thousand times over, otherwise you’d be completely lost with how distracted you are by Marcus tonight. You can only hope he doesn’t notice.

You’re a little quieter than normal during the movie, but it otherwise passes without incident. As the credits roll, Marcus shares an absurd bit of trivia that you’ve somehow never heard before and swears on his life that it’s true.

When you laugh only half as much as expected, Marcus suddenly moves in closer to you on the couch. Your legs are now firmly across his lap and he's studying your face like you were recently accused of stealing millions in valuable artwork.

"Are you okay?"

You've always appreciated that Marcus doesn't beat around the bush. You don't like it as much when it's turned on you. His right hand is splayed over your calf, pulling your mind in a thousand directions other than answering him.

"Yeah, what? Why?" you finally splutter in reply.

"You're too quiet tonight."

He studies your face further and you're terrified that somehow, just from looking, he'll know. Marcus will know and then he'll try not to hurt your feelings but once he knows your friendship will never be the same. How can it be after that? Your palms are clammy thinking of the awkwardness that will linger between the two of you. The way you’ll drift apart before becoming perfect strangers. You’re not sure you’re strong enough to go through that.

His eyes flash and you're certain he's figured it out when he asks, "Did that guy try something with you?"

"Woah okay, calm down," you say, pressing a hand against his shoulder. "He was an ass not a creep. I'm fine."

“You don’t have to protect him if he did. I still have contacts."

“I know I don’t, Mr. FBI. I’m just sick of all these dates that go nowhere, you know? I don’t know why I keep trying.”

You really don’t. None of them are going to compare to Marcus. You know it, your mom knows it, the universe knows it, and your lifelong companion Mr. Bear-Bear knows it. You slump back against the arm of the couch, closing your eyes in frustration.

"You'll find someone soon," Marcus consoles. You snort, cursing your luck that he of all people would be the one to say that to you.

Stopping your pity party before it really gets going, you crack open an eye to look at Marcus. His expression is indiscernible, but you can tell he's about to stay something. Abruptly, his expression changes and he asks, “Are you spending the night?”

You’re about to say no, that you’ll make the relatively short drive home, when a yawn sneaks up on you.

“Sure, why not?” Your plan for tomorrow was to wake up early-ish and drag Marcus to the farmer’s market in town anyway. He smiles, making your stomach flip.

“Do you have anything to change into?”

You look down, realizing that your date outfit won’t exactly be comfortable to sleep in. You can’t believe you wore an underwire bra for that disappointment. There might be some extra clothes in your car, but the prospect of going to get those now that you’ve decided to settle in for the night sounds miserable. The couch is so warm and outside is so cold.

Marcus is already getting up before you can reply. “I’ll go grab something for you to sleep in.”

If your brain didn’t immediately fry, you would have told him you’d be okay and that you’d make something work. Instead, you’re left open-mouthed at the thought of wearing his clothes. How the hell are you supposed to sleep like that? Wrapped in his scent, wishing that it was more than just the fabric he owns holding you tight.

You can’t help yourself – imagining his strong arms around you, the softness of his stomach pressed against your back. Turning to tuck yourself into his neck or chest, comfortable in the safety he'd provide. Moving one hand up to tease his curls that are in need of a trim or to run soothingly down his broad back.

Trying to calm down, you decide to look up the movie trivia Marcus mentioned. Nothing will get your mind off of being surrounded by Marcus' scent for the night like some dry movie fun facts.

You go to grab your phone, only to realize you left it with your jacket over by the door when you came in. Far too lazy to make the walk, you instead grab Marcus' laptop off the coffee table in front of you. He's not going to care if you look up some trivia.

You're taken by surprise when a video starts to automatically play as you open the laptop. Marcus must have been watching it when you arrived, the video pausing when he closed it. Your brain takes a moment to catch up, registering that this isn't some youtube video about art history or something. It's porn.

A flush of arousal courses through you. You picture Marcus laid out on the couch, getting comfortable before taking himself in hand, leisurely stroking his cock. A groan escaping his lips, slicking his hand with spit and precum.

A soft moan from the video snaps you from your fantasy. Embarrassment immediately washes over your arousal. You shouldn't be thinking of Marcus this way. He's your friend. Not to mention that you shouldn't be watching this video now and invading his privacy. You're thankful he hasn't come back from finding clothes to catch you.

You're about to frantically close the laptop when you realize you know this video. It's one of your favorites – hosted on a site with porn geared towards women, it's one of the best you've found. Both the actors seem to be genuinely enjoying themselves in the scene, allowing it to flow and progress naturally. You've long speculated they have some chemistry beyond the camera to make it work so well.

He's dominating without ever crossing a line into creepy or concerning and her submission feels real. It's not overacted with exaggerated expressions, fake moans, or loud and unnecessary shouts. More than once you've watched this and longed to be in the woman's place.

The video picks up right before one of your favorite moments. The actress is kneeling on the floor, completely naked, her hand slowly working up the exterior of her scene partner's pant leg. He's gently petting her hair, carefully caressing her cheek. He gives her permission to continue, her hands making quick work of his belt and taking out his cock. You know what comes next. You’ve watched it enough times to know it with your eyes shut.

Unbidden, you imagine a moment like this with Marcus. A shiver runs down your spine at the thought of him instructing you to call him sir, his thumb running over your bottom lip before finally telling you to suck. Would he be gentle or would he continue to follow the video’s script?

The Marcus you know is considerably softer, with his dimpled smile and the creases of laugh lines around his warm brown eyes. The way he grumbles about “letting himself go” after leaving the FBI when all you see is a man happy and enjoying his life. You’ve had to keep yourself from commenting a little too obviously on how much you like his soft stomach more than once. Your Marcus will meet you at the bar, hands half scrubbed from oil paints because he didn’t realize how late it had gotten and rushed to get there on time.

You never allowed yourself to indulge the thought of this fantasy with Marcus, thinking yourself too off base. Why let yourself get swept up in the thought of something that was never going to happen? Some days it’s been hard enough without adding your deepest desire into the mix.

"This shirt has some paint stains, but they're old so-" The clothes unceremoniously drop to the floor, Marcus staring wide eyed at his laptop in front of you.

You snap back into reality, slamming the laptop shut. "Oh god Marcus, I'm so sorry. I should have turned it off the second it started playing. I'm sorry, I-"

Marcus rushes over to you on the couch. "It's okay, I'm sorry. I should have closed out of it properly."

Words keep tumbling from your mouth. "Sorry, it's not your fault. I shouldn't have helped myself. I’m so so sorry." The heat of embarrassment is washing over you in waves. You don’t know what this is going to do to your friendship, but your only hope is that it doesn’t ruin things. What were you thinking? You never should have kept watching it.

Marcus is wringing his hands, not looking in your direction. Have you already fucked this up beyond repair? He’s normally calm and collected in a heated moment, you being the one to lose your head. "It's okay, I just- I hope what you saw doesn't change your opinion of me."

You take the risk of moving closer to him on the couch. “Changed my-? What are you talking about?"

He exhales a dry, humorless chuckle. "Let’s just say not everyone in my past has been entirely kind or uh- understanding, about my tastes and… Well, I don’t want to lose you over it too.”

Marcus looks up at you with those big, sad puppy dog eyes and you melt. He can’t honestly think you would disappear from his life over this. Not only would that be a terrible and ridiculous thing to do as a friend, you know you won’t be able to get it out of your mind now. Actually knowing that his tastes very much align with yours.

Your heart is racing, but you force out your next words before you chicken out. “That would be awfully hypocritical of me.” Marcus’ eyes somehow become rounder, asking his question for him. “I think I have that one memorized.”

The urge to hide yourself away is nearly overwhelming. If you believed Marcus figured out your feelings before, you’re certain you’re giving them away freely now. You stand your ground though, keeping your eyes locked onto his and daring to reach out and brush an errant curl behind Marcus’ ear.

Eternity stretches between the two of you. A million thoughts race through your mind, certain that whatever happens next there’s no going back. You can only hope that things are about to change in your favor.

Finally, Marcus’ hands move. One falls on your leg, just above your knee, a bolt of electricity zipping through you at the contact. The other reaches up to cup your face, his large hand cradling your jaw. You immediately melt at his touch, nuzzling into his palm.

"I never thought-"

"I could say the same for you," you interrupt.

He chuckles, acknowledging that his general vibe doesn't really lend one to thinking that he'd be into BDSM. His thumb sweeps over the apple of your cheek.

You take a deep breath, trying to choose your next words carefully. "If we do this, this can't be a one time thing for me. I can't have you tonight and pretend nothing is different tomorrow."

He has to know it's nothing against him. If anything, it's the exact opposite. The idea of getting to have him but only once sounds like your own hell, worse than never knowing his touch at all. It's a misery you simply can't doom yourself to. Not after this long.

"Does that mean you'll stop going on all those dates?" Your brow furrows. Before you can get a word in, Marcus continues. "I know it's stupid to get jealous over someone who isn't officially mine, but I can't seem to help myself."

You move yourself into Marcus' lap, needing to be as close to him as you can. He has no complaints. His forehead presses against yours, one hand resting on your side.

"I was trying to distract myself from you," you confess. "I didn't want to push you before you were ready." You can feel his breath against your lips. His heart somehow keeps a steady beat under your palm.

"You don't need to worry about that anymore."

It's not clear who moves first. All you know is that Marcus' lips are on yours and that it's everything you've wanted for months. It doesn't take long for the kiss to deepen, his tongue sliding into your mouth. At some point, you lightly bite his plush bottom lip, relishing the moan you're rewarded with.

His hands are everywhere – pushing up your skirt, untucking your shirt, pressing your body against his, cradling your head. All you can manage is wrapping your arms around his shoulders or pushing a hand into his thick curls. You never want to come up for air.

Marcus breaks the kiss to leave a trail down your neck, trying to speak to you while he does it. "So- beautiful- been dreaming- about you- for- months."

Your thighs clench together, eager for any kind of friction. "I've thought about you too," you say.

There's a light glowing in Marcus' eyes. "What have you thought about?"

It's silly, really. To be here, exactly where you want to be, and to get shy now. Marcus' kisses slow down, waiting expectantly for your answer.

"I- I um, I imagined you touching me," you say softly.

You can feel the curve of Marcus' smile against your throat. "How, baby?"

His hand sneaks underneath your shirt, groping your breasts. It makes it harder to focus. "Your hands.” A gasp escapes you, Marcus rolling your nipple between his fingers. “Your m-mouth.”

You’re certain your panties are soaked through now. Any friction you can get from your thighs is not nearly enough to quell the ache burning in your core. You have no idea how Marcus seems so unaffected.

“I didn’t think you’d be so timid, baby. Are you sure you want this?” Marcus asks. His hands still, awaiting your answer.

Panic swells in your chest at the thought of this stopping. Your grip tightens on his shirt. “No, no please, I want this. I just um, I-”

“Need a little guidance?”

You nod, wide eyed and eager. You’ve never had someone affect you like this before.You’re not sure what it is – how worked up you already were, the suddenness of it all, or if it’s just him. The edges of your mind are already rounding out, desperate to please and follow Marcus’ lead.

Marcus guides you off his lap, gently pushing you back against the soft cushions of the couch. "Okay, baby. If anything makes you uncomfortable you say yellow to slow me down and if you want me to stop you say red. You got it?”

You nod quickly. “Yes. Yellow to slow, red to stop.”

Marcus gets down on his knees in front of you, hands slowly trailing up your leg. Your breath hitches as he reaches the top of your thigh highs, gently fingering the garter clasp. He looks up, eyes meeting yours, and you almost want to shy away from the intensity of his gaze. You never imagined it would be like this.

Marcus is always attentive. It’s one of the first things you noticed and appreciated about him. No matter how small or insignificant the topic, Marcus can make you feel like the center of the world – as though every word you speak is pure gold. Right now, he’s making you feel like the center of the universe.

"Can I?" he asks.

You nod your head.

"I need to hear it."

"Yes, Marcus."

He pauses, his gaze becoming pointed. He’s waiting for something. Your mind flicks back to the video and you know what he wants to hear. "Yes, sir," you breathe.

He leans down to kiss the side of your knee. “Good girl.”

Marcus unclips your garter belt deftly, his hands completely steady as he rolls your thigh highs down your legs. You cringe a little, remembering the last time you shaved your legs was months ago, resulting in the panicked urge to hide them from view in case your date chose to be an asshole about it. The concern you feel is quickly overtaken by Marcus kissing his way up both legs without a care, murmuring compliments as he rises.

His hands glide over your hips, meeting at the button on your skirt. “Did you get all dressed up for me? Were you trying to tease me with your cute little outfit?”

You squirm, remembering that you purposely chose the shirt you wore tonight because it’s Marcus’ favorite color. Somehow you know he knows.

“I wanted to tear it off you the moment I opened the door.” He pulls your skirt off, managing to snag your garter belt right along with it. Goosebumps erupt across your skin at the sudden cold air of the room and the thrill that runs along your spine.

Marcus moves quickly from there. He doesn’t bother with moving your panties out of the way, throwing your legs over his broad shoulders and hungrily mouthing at your pussy through the silky fabric. It dulls the sensation, but only ever so slightly. You can feel the way his saliva is dampening them alongside your own slick, his tongue tracing along the seam of your lips. Without thinking, you curl your fingers into his hair and pull him further into you.

He easily overpowers you, a hand wrapping around your wrist. “I’ll let that one slide, but I decide the pace. Do that again and I might have to punish you.”

Your pussy clenches at the thought of all that Marcus could do. How merciless would he be? What could his creative mind come up with? Still, you don’t want to push it tonight. That will be something to test out another time.

He returns to his task, allowing your hand to stay wrapped up in his hair. One of his fingers plays along the edge of your panties and just as you’re about to beg he slides it underneath the fabric and into your pussy. You cry out in welcome surprise as Marcus groans, quickly losing any resolve and using his other hand to pull your panties aside in order to wrap his mouth around your bare clit. You almost don't catch yourself before mindlessly grinding your hips downwards.

Marcus' patchy stubble leaves a perfect burn on your inner thighs. His one arm is wrapped around the top of your leg, keeping you firmly in place. The strength of his grip is not lost on you even as your mind begins to empty out. You haven't felt this good in months, maybe years.

A heady wave of pleasure crashes through you, making you realize how close you are to cumming. You frantically paw at Marcus. "I- I'm going to come, please- please, can I come, sir?"

Marcus' eyes snap open, his mouth barely leaving you. "Fuck, yeah beautiful. Come for me."

He pushes another thick finger inside of you, curling them to hit your sweet spot, and pulls you down onto his mouth. It takes only moments more and with his permission, you come undone.

Marcus works you through your orgasm, accepting your slight push against his forehead when overstimulation threatens to overwhelm. He's quick to reclaim your mouth with his, awkwardly draped over you and the couch. You've never seen him smile so brightly before.

"I knew you'd look gorgeous when you came." Your cheeks burn at the compliment.

Marcus pulls you up with him, taking a moment to make sure you're steady on your feet. You only stumble the tiniest bit. His hands fall on your hips, playing with the hem of your shirt. "Take this off, baby. Let me see you."

You're more than happy to comply. The look in Marcus' eye emboldens you, prompting you to let your bra and thoroughly ruined panties fall to the floor as well. Marcus breathes in sharply before pulling you in for another messy kiss.

"Please tell me I'm not dreaming," he whispers.

You reach down and give his ass a small pinch. "Is that proof enough?"

Marcus chuckles. "Go to my bedroom. I'm not done with you yet."

You take a couple steps away from him, pausing when you realize he's not following. Marcus arches an eyebrow. "Did I tell you to stop walking?"

"No, sir."

"Keep going then. I'm enjoying the show."

You feel like you need a pinch to make sure this is all real. This night began by you hoping to drown your sorrows and now you're living your wildest fantasy. If it isn't real, you hope you never wake up.

Knowing what he's up to, you throw an extra away into your hips, more than happy to give him a show that's worthwhile. The soft groan you hear tells you it works. You pause in the doorway, throwing a wink over your shoulder towards Marcus. His hand is over his groin, the grey sweatpants doing nothing to hide his arousal, even from a distance.

You're not sure what to do once you're in the room. He didn't give you any instruction beyond coming in here. Trying to imagine what he might like, your thoughts drift back to the porn video. Deciding it's better than nothing to go off of, you move towards the bed and kneel down beside it. You place your hands in your lap, patiently waiting for Marcus to enter the room.

No more than a minute passes before Marcus walks in. He's looking directly at the bed before he realizes you aren't on it, but beside it. Your mouth is watering – beyond thrilled that he chose to take his shirt off before walking in.

You adore the way Marcus' body has filled out and softened in the time you've known him. There was never anything wrong with his fit FBI body – but this version of him takes the cake. He's less lean than before, the hard work of fixing up his home and consistent, full meals packing on both layers of muscle and fat. Marcus likes to bemoan the stomach he now has, but you've been kept up late more than once by the simple thought of kissing it.

"Look at you," Marcus says. "So damn sweet, waiting for me. Why didn't you get on the bed, baby?"

He crouches down, cradling your jaw in his hand. He figured out how much you like that quickly. Marcus' affection is laid open and bare across his face, making you want to shy away again. This time, you try to hold firm.

"I wanted to make you happy, sir. I thought you might like this."

"Oh baby, I love it. I want to reward you for already treating me so well."

A smile breaks out across your face, thrilled to have already done so well for him.

"What do you want for your reward?" he asks.

You nearly blue-screen. There are so many options. How can you pick just one? Every fantasy you've ever had comes to the forefront of your mind, all fighting for the top spot. Staring at him before you, you make up your mind.

Your voice falters. Somehow a worry about being too forward wiggles forward in your mind. You've had partners, some of them shitty doms, in the past who haven't liked you being so assertive. Your voice falters. "I- I want…"

Marcus is patient, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Don't get shy on me now, baby. What do you want?"

"I want to suck your cock," you force out.

Marcus inhales sharply. For a moment, you worry you've done something wrong. "Fuck," Marcus says, his voice a little shaky. "You're sure?"

"I can't stop thinking about it."

Marcus kisses you again, quick and dirty. "You're remarkable."

He stands up, now towering above you. He looks amazing from this angle. The soft swell of his stomach, the curve of his chest and shoulders, curls of hair falling forward. You get a real sense for just how large Marcus is. If the outline through his sweatpants is anything to go off of, the same can be said of him everywhere.

You wait patiently, a crackling tension filling the room. There's a chance you could reach out, touching him over his pants, but you don't want to push too far. You're both still figuring out each other's boundaries.

"Go ahead," Marcus says.

Teasing him sounds appealing for a moment, but you've both waited too long for this. His sweatpants slide off of his hips. You gasp at the quick realization that Marcus decided to forgo underwear tonight.

His cock bobs in front of you, curving slightly up towards his stomach. Flushed with arousal, you can finally see the clear effect you’ve been having on Marcus despite his otherwise calm demeanor. Looking up, you can see the tease on the tip of his tongue. It turns into a shuddered gasp instead as you lick a hot stripe up the underside of his cock.

His hands quickly find your head, fingers pushing into your hair to hold steady. It spurs you on, holding the base of his cock and letting your other hand run over his thick thighs. You smile up at him, placing an innocent kiss at the tip.

“Don’t tease me, baby,” Marcus warns. You smile widely up at him.

"Sorry, sir."

You swirl your tongue, humming at the salty taste of his precum. Eager to taste more and avoid another warning from Marcus, you take him into your mouth. His knees buckle slightly and it thrills you to have this effect on him.

Marcus allows you to set the pace. You settle into a suitable position, using your hand to cover what you can't comfortably fit in your mouth. It's been a while since you've been this excited to do this for anyone.

Your fingers itch to reach down and take care of your own growing ache. The noises Marcus is making are doing nothing to help you. You’d ask, but you don’t want to stop what you’re doing. It’s an absurd predicament that simply leaves you dripping onto the carpet.

You hold onto the back of Marcus' thighs, taking him as deeply as you can. Marcus swears above you and you pull back just before you begin to choke. A couple tears well in your eyes at the effort, but you want this, you want to keep going.

You place your hand over Marcus', hoping that he'll get the message you want him to take some control back and to guide you. You trust him. You know he cares about you just as much, if not more, than getting off.

His fingers tighten their hold, moving your head in tandem while he rocks his hips. It's still relatively gentle, Marcus being cautious to not push your limits, but it’s more than enough to let that soft cotton fuzz of submission start to creep in again. You hardly notice the way you’re drooling – unable to do anything about it anyway. Right as you’re beginning to really time your breaths well, sinking deeper into letting go, Marcus pulls away. You whine at the loss, keen to keep going and pleasing him.

“S-sorry baby. I’m going to come if we keep going like that.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” you tell him honestly. His cock twitches.

“The first time I come for you I want to fill that perfect little pussy up. On the bed.”

Marcus helps you up from the floor, your legs a little shaky from kneeling on them like you were. “Hands and knees, baby,” Marcus says, kissing along your shoulder blade. He gives your ass a playful swat as you crawl across the sheets, making you squeak.

Getting comfortable on Marcus’ large mattress, you’re more than ready for him. You’ve been ready for him since the couch. There’s still an ache in your jaw from how ready he is for you. That’s why you jump a little bit when you feel his fingers and not his dick easily slide into your pussy.

“You’re so wet,” Marcus moans. “Sorry baby, I couldn’t help myself. Did you get like this sucking my cock?”

Between the way he’s making you feel and his words you find it hard to reply. There’s a sharp sting as Marcus slaps your ass, this time far harder than before. You moan at the bite of it. “What was that baby?”

“Yes, sir. You make me so wet, no-nobody else.”

“Is that so? Nobody else?” Marcus asks. “Tell me who’s pussy this is.”

Oh fuck. You never expected him to say that. Marcus slaps your ass again when you don’t answer fast enough, his fingers stilling. “I said, tell me who’s pussy this is.”

“Yours. It’s yours,” you cry out, moaning as he pushes his cock into you. There’s no pinch or uncomfortable second that blooms into pleasure – it’s like you were made to take him. A perfect fit.

Marcus shudders, pausing for a moment while he adjusts to the tight clench of your cunt. You want to rock back on him more than anything, but you stay still, waiting for him.

“Good girl, good fucking girl.” He reaches down, grabbing a handful of your hair and begins to fuck you in earnest. Everything that isn’t Marcus leaves your mind.

There’s the slight tug on your hair, the grip of his hand on your hip, the perfect punch of his cock buried inside you. It’s not long before your arms give out, unable to support yourself against the overwhelming waves of pleasure crashing through your body. The noises you’re making are unlike anything you thought you could produce – Marcus alternating between grunts and compliments you can only half hear.

You can feel another orgasm approaching. It only pushes closer as Marcus lets go of your hair, draping his body across yours, and snaking his arm down to rub your clit. Sweat slides between your bodies, Marcus’ breath hot against your ear. Tears are escaping your eyes unbidden, completely overcome with bliss. “Need you to come, baby. Come for me and I’ll fill you up.”

Marcus’ slicked finger moves faster over your clit, his hips keeping a steady rhythm to push you over the edge. He gently bites your shoulder, trying to hold on for you, and that’s what finally sends you over the edge again. Marcus is mere seconds behind, losing himself as you clench around him, milking his cock.

You’re both breathing heavily as you fall back against the sheets. The only noise in the room are your breaths and Marcus’ fan that he keeps beside his bed. Your mind is already swimming.

Did that just happen? If you look over to your right are you really going to see Marcus beside you? If it is him, will he regret this? You desperately hope that the most mind-blowing sex of your life didn’t somehow ruin everything.

You eventually find the strength within yourself to turn your head. Marcus is already staring at you, his eyes brimming with affection and adoration. He rolls onto his side, holding your face in his hand. “You are incredible. I never thought-”

“That I’d be a dirty freak like you?” you joke. Marcus laughs loudly, his smile nearly blinding.

“Yeah, something like that.” He leans in to kiss you, slow and passionate. It’s completely unlike your previous kisses – with your immediate lust temporarily quenched you can take your time with this one. You get lost in the feeling of his plush lips on yours, the gentle press of his tongue. Your hand has a mind of its own while you slowly make out, squeezing and touching any part of him you can get your hands on.

Before things can really start to heat up again, which now feels like an inevitability, Marcus pulls away. “You’re beautiful and I keep wanting to do unspeakable things to you, but I need a slightly longer break. How does a bath sound?”

Even if you wanted to complain about not going for round two right away, Marcus knows he just used chemical warfare. You’ve been begging to use his jacuzzi tub since he installed the damn thing. You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re playing unfair, but I’ll allow it.”

Marcus kisses your forehead before sliding off the bed, confidently walking over to the bathroom. It’s a fantastic show, his back muscles and perfect little ass on display. He comes back out while the tub fills, sitting beside you on the bed and playing with your hair. You know the two of you have a lot to discuss. That can come later. For now this is perfect.

The water is exactly how you like it, the body heat from Marcus only making the tub that much more inviting. Sweat is already beading at Marcus’ hairline. “Did you make it hot enough for me?” you ask, sinking into the water between his legs.

“Yeah, I know your weird cold-blooded body needs it.”

You scoff, even though he’s a little bit right. Your feet have been freezing since he left the bed. The cold tile flooring did nothing to help them. Marcus wraps you up in his arms, allowing you to put your cold feet all over his warm legs.

You stay like that until the water runs cold, talking about things that apparently should have been said months ago. Both of you feel a bit ridiculous for leaving so much unsaid, but it hardly matters now. What matters now is the two of you here, happy, wanting to see where this will lead. Neither of you say it, but you both have high hopes.

The antique grandfather clock that sits at the end of the hall chimes. It echoes, notifying you that it’s now one in the morning. You groan, shoving your face into Marcus' chest. “I wanted to go to the farmer’s market tomorrow.”

“We can still go,” Marcus says.

“Yeah?”

“Sure, if you can still walk.”

You can’t help but laugh, pushing at his chest. “I’m holding you to that.”

“Good, because I’m nowhere near done with you baby.”

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated 💕

Everything taglist: @radiowallet @sergeantbannerbarnes @pilothusband @max--phillips @starlightmornings @moonlight-prose @practicalghost @sharkbait77 @honestly-shite @shadesofnerdlygrace @salome-c @artsymaddie @katronautt @magikfanatic @astoryisaloveaffair @tintinn16 @mswarriorbabe80 @phandoz @amneris21 @tenderwhat @asta-lily @chaoticgeminate @snarwor @stardust-galaxies @readsalot73 @xoxabs88xox @harriedandharassed @alexxavicry @alwaysdjarin @karlawithacapitalk

#marcus pike fanfiction #the mentalist fanfiction #marcus pike #crasis writes

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ask--eggman · 1 month

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Your belly is so big! What's inside it?

Oh heheh, it is, isn't it? Well, I always make sure to eat well to maintain my beautiful figure of course, I must to live up to my mighty title after all! I mean, what kind of Eggman would I be if I wasn't shaped like an egg? I'm very proud of it! As for what's inside it, that depends on the day of course. So many choices!

Today it's a nice hearty breakfast, one of my favorite Villain Sub Sandwiches, my Eggsquisite Lunch, a couple of my Egg Dogs, oh and a bowl of my Poppin' Eggcorn. I'm probably going to have my favorite tasty bountiful bucket of chicken and fries, followed by delicious Evil Cookies dessert later. My mouth is watering just thinking about it!

If I feel a little peckish in the meantime, the little critters locked away in my capsules are very appetizing too~

#ask #doctor eggman #dr eggman #dr robotnik #roleplay ask blog #sonic #ask blog #doctor robotnik #rp #sth #sonic the hedgehog #sonic series #food #Dr Eggman #Dr robotnik #roleplay #doctor Eggman

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whattheflockbirbs · 1 year

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Just helping myself thanks!

#peckish the chicken #chicken #bird #pet #chook #hen #what the flock

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officialronanlynch · 1 year

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have u got chickens and if yes! what are their names?

got plenty of chickens. cluckold, henrietta, CLAW MACHINE, egbert, cacciatore, PULVERIZER, chicken 1, chicken 2, fatso, motherfucker, peckish, dr. eggman, and susan. i only named 3 of them but u can probably fucking guess who else named which chickens

#ronan lynch #trc #the raven cycle

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ask-sebastian · 2 months

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Apologies for the late night owl, but I foolishly forgot to send you something for Valentine’s Day.

It’s not much, but I snuck into the kitchens to whip up something really quick (fun fact, you can offer the elves a little treacle fudge and they’ll happily let you have the kitchen at your disposal)

Please enjoy the chicken soup to keep yourself hydrated and warm as you recover, and the green box contains butter tarts and sugar cookies.

Lastly, I’ve included a book that I thought you might find interesting. It outlines various spells and their development history, including how certain spells originated.

Do take care. I’m certain we’ll cross paths in the restricted section sooner or later.

Em 💌

Em,

Firstly, no apologies are necessary. It's a pleasure to receive your owls no matter the hour, however I shall not accept this foolish nonsense about forgetting anything. I do not require any special pampering, least of all on one particular day of the year. I am pleased enough that you graciously sent along such thoughtful and healing gifts. A little soulful nourishment, sinful treats, and stimulating reading are never unappreciated. I shall enjoy them all immensely.

I am equally thankful for the knowledge that the kitchen elves are so easily persuaded. Quite good to know when one is feeling peckish in the off hours, though I would likely eat all the fudge before I managed to find my way into the kitchens. Solves the problem either way, I suppose.

Please accept a few small tokens of gratitude in exchange, along with something I have always found particularly useful when smuggling extra books from the Restricted Section...or any other morally questionable objects I may happen upon by chance.

I am certain our paths shall cross again soon.

With much anticipation, Seb

[Included with the letter is a small, neatly wrapped parcel containing a speciality assortment of chocolates and sweets (with any suspiciously-flavoured Every Flavour Beans removed), a small set of quill tips engraved with delicate filigree, and a silky black pouch magically expanded to carry considerably more in size and weight than its unassuming size typically allows.]

#ask-sebastian #sebastian sends valentines #em #marketfreshfics

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impala-dreamer · 9 months

Text

Captives of The Court - Chapter Eight

A Supernatural Series

~Strange things are brewing in Connecticut, so Dean and Y/N go check it out. After stumbling through town, they fall into something that’s been going on a very, very long time. Can they put an end to the bloodshed and make it out unscathed or will they need a little help this time?~

Starring Dean Winchester x Y/N Y/L/N

Chapter Eight Word Count: 2249

Series Warnings and Info may be found on the Masterlist Here

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works

Y/N was slumped over on the tiny kitchenette table, staring at her laptop as if it were sucking the joy and color from the universe around her. Her eyes moved, her finger scrolled, her mind was melting.

Her partner on the phone was less than helpful, only offering a hum or a cough every few minutes so she remembered that someone was still there.

“This is burning my eyes out, Sam,” she said, finally closing the screen she’d been on. Right behind it, there was another, and she whined to herself. “You got anything yet?”

Sam sighed heavily. “Still trying to match the symbols you sent me. Not getting very far.”

“Figures.” She sat back and crossed her arms, annoyed at the world, tired, and a little peckish. “Do we have to stay on the phone like this? I mean, I appreciate your help but this is kinda dumb.”

“Well-” Sam laughed. “I guess not. I just thought you were lonely.”

“Lonely?” She shook her head and grabbed up the phone as she stood and paced the room. “How can I be lonely? Dean hasn’t been out of eyesight in like two weeks.”

Sam hummed, interested. “Trouble in paradise?”

She sighed. “Not really…”

“I think I understand. I’ve spent more time in the car with him than any human being should.”

Y/N paused in front of the mirror and played with her hair, musing on her road trip with his brother. “Yeah. He’s kinda gross. But, it’s not that. Just- I don’t know! We’re on top of each other. I love the guy but-”

“You love what guy?”

Dean appeared behind her, a bucket of fried chicken under one arm and a six pack under the other. He grinned and kicked the door shut behind him, letting it echo through the room.

Y/N turned to him and sighed. “Love the guy who just brought me dinner!” She smiled and pulled the phone away from her cheek. “See ya later, Sam- I got a juicy thigh calling me name.”

If she could see through the phone, she would have seen Sam cringe. As it was, he gagged audibly.

“Yeah, good luck with that.”

“Hey, Sammy-” Dean cleared his throat. “Don’t call back later.”

He grinned and Y/N tossed the phone onto the bed. Dean watched it land and then slowly moved his eyes to her.

“Don’t forget that’s there,” he warned.

She bit her lip and cooed. “Why’s that?”

The bucket and beer hit the table and he took a long step towards her. “I don’t want you to get hurt when I throw you down on top of it.”

She sucked in a quick breath and batted her lashes. “You think you can just come in here with your chicken and booze, lookin’ all sexy, and toss me onto the bed and have your way with me?”

He paused for a dramatic moment and then smirked. “I do.” The space between them disappeared and Y/N gasped as his arms slid so easily around her. “So how ‘bout it?”

Pushing up on her tiptoes, she pressed a suggestive kiss to the corner of his mouth. She moved over a bit and tried again but was stopped by a rather embarrassing internal grumble.

“Was that me or you?” she asked, squinting up at him.

The grumble rolled again and Dean shyly smiled. “I think I’m hungry.”

She sighed. “Me too. Grub… then grab.”

He nodded in agreement and let her go, holding back as she crossed in front of him. “Sam find anything?”

“Nada. It’s definitely odd, but nothing’s jumping out at him so far. And the markings- they look like runes to me, but they’re not matching anything in the system. Or the internet. Kinda like they’re made up.”

Dean plucked two beers from the carrier. “I mean, it was all made up at some point, wasn’t it?”

“Technically, yeah. But it would be so much nicer if this wasn’t a new thing.”

He twisted the caps free. “Can’t all be easy, Y/N/N. Sometimes ya gotta get in there and dig. Get your hands dirty.”

She agreed, digging through the chicken pieces. “No wings?”

“Gotta keep digging,” he winked.

She tossed a drumstick at his chest and he fumbled to catch it.

“I think we get our shit together and do some interviews this evening. Make a few house calls while people are settling in after work.”

Dean sunk his teeth into the chicken leg. “I thought we were gonna- grub and grab…”

Y/N peeled the skin off of her piece of chicken and popped it in her mouth. “We can grab all night. We need to get to work. I’m antsy and this place gives me the creeps.”

Dean looked around, chewing. “It ain’t that bad.”

“The town, not the room.” She followed his gaze about the motel room and sneered at the hideous painting of horses above the bed. “Though the room is pretty bad too…”

The Putnam kitchen appeared to be designed directly out of a magazine and Y/N couldn’t help but be just a little bit jealous. The backsplash was an intricate pattern made of tiny bits of blue glass and crisp white porcelain, the countertops were black marble with golden flecks, the sink was large enough to take a bath in. She thought back to the tiny kitchenette in the motel room and sighed.

“Your home is truly lovely,” she told her hostess as Mrs. Putnam handed her a tea cup and saucer.

The older woman smiled. “Thank you. I love this room. The light in here is just- perfect.”

Indeed it was, Y/N thought, looking out of the enormous picture window on the east wall.

“Sunrise must be stunning,” she said with a dreamy smile. Her tea was steaming and she blew a breath across the surface before taking a sip.

“Oh, it is.” Mrs. Putnam set her hip against the counter island, turning to look out at the window. She smiled sweetly and Y/N felt a shiver.

For a woman in mourning, she was utterly calm and terribly well put together. Her blonde hair was up in a twist and not a strand was out of place. Her makeup was exquisite and despite her age of fifty-seven, not a single line appeared on her milky skin. She dressed as if she were going to a business meeting, with a string of expensive pearls at her throat that made Y/N’s look like they came out of a cereal box, which they just about did.

Y/N cleared her throat and set the tea cup down gently. “Mrs. Putnam-”

“Please, call me Ann.”

“Ann.” Y/N smiled and pulled her notepad from her purse. “I just have a few questions for you and I’ll be out of your way.”

Ann turned to face her. “Fire away.”

Her eyes were so blue that Y/N was distracted for a moment. It was as if they were being lit from behind by some ethereal force. She sucked in a quick breath and focused on her scribbled notes.

“The fourth victim, Brian Mills, was living here before he passed away?”

Ann nodded and wrapped her manicured fingers around the china teacup. “He was. Brian was renting our guest house out back. More of a pool house, really, but there’s a little kitchen set up in here.” She waved her hand as if nothing she was saying really mattered. “I doubt he did much cooking; he dined with us most evenings.”

Y/N tapped her pen on the paper. “How long was he renting the space?”

Mauve painted lips pursed. “Well now, I’d say a few months. He arrived just after Christmas I believe.”

The pen scratched across the pad. “And he was engaged to your daughter, Elizabeth…”

Ann’s eyes flashed over Y/N with a rapid cruelty. “They were not engaged.”

Y/N cocked a brow and skimmed over her notes. “Huh. The info I got from Sheriff Willard says your daughter was wearing an engagement ring when found. Maybe they didn’t announce it yet?”

Any previous kindness Mrs. Putnam had shown was quickly ebbing. “Fine. Yes. They were engaged. Elizabeth was fascinated with that man and no matter what we said, she wouldn’t listen.”

“So… you did not approve of them getting married.”

“No.”

Y/N took a sip of tea and calculated her next words carefully. She chose to sympathize. “I can imagine no one would be good enough for your only daughter.”

Ann huffed. “She wasn’t really our daughter anyway, now was she?”

She meant to speak under her breath but Y/N caught every word.

“What do you mean?”

China clinked softly. “Well, she was adopted, if you must know. My husband and I were unable to have children of our own, so we took Elizabeth in when she was fourteen. She was a very rambunctious and irrational child, but we did our best.”

Y/N recorded every word, every flinch, every heavy breath in her mind.

“Still,” she said, pushing gently, “it must be devastating to lose both of them like this.”

Ann’s jaw was tight and she stared down into her tea. “Yes. Well, it was tragic, wasn’t it?” She cleared her throat and looked at the time, the gold watch on her wrist gleaming in the rays of afternoon sun that struck the big window. “I’m sorry, but I really must be seeing to dinner soon. If you’ll excuse me…”

The Impala was parked a fair way down the street and Y/N was grateful for the short walk. The fresh air was nice and helped to shake away the crawling feeling Mrs. Putnam had caused to trickle down her spine.

Done with his own interview, Dean was bouncing down the front steps of a house on the opposite side of the street, about the same distance from the car as Y/N. They smiled at the timing but each could tell the other was deep in thought as they marched to the Impala.

Dean set his hands on the roof and fiddled with the car keys. “How’d it go in there?”

Y/N stretched to look over the roof but soon gave up. She opened the door and stood in the door well, finally able to see him over the car. “It went weird. You?”

He bit down into his lip and looked back at the house he’d come from. “That family isn’t right. I don’t know what it is, but ya think after losing your oldest son, you’d be-”

“Grieving? Yeah.” Y/N clicked her tongue. “Mrs. Putnam was almost annoyed that her daughter was dead. Oh, wait, excuse me - her adopted daughter. She made that very clear.” She sighed. “Also… and again, I can’t really explain it but… she looked so…”

“Young?”

“Your guys too?”

Dean nodded and leaned in a little closer. “Dude’s gotta be pushing seventy and he looks better than I do. I mean, ya know, in certain areas. I’m sure I got the guy on… well height and stuff.”

Y/N breathed down a laugh but worry was heavier in her mind. “I just can’t figure it out… And everyone’s so damned good looking. It’s like they’re all models or mannequins or robots or something.”

Dean squinted at the light bouncing off the hood. “I don’t think they’re robots.”

“I don’t think they’re anything but weirdos. This whole place is just strange. I wanna go home.” Her shoulders fell and she pouted.

“We can’t just leave, Y/N/N. We’ve got a stack of bodies and nothing good to go on yet.”

“What if we… do leave, and just pretend we were never here.”

He frowned and met her gaze. “You could live with yourself if we just blew town right now?”

She cracked a smirk. “I mean, I’m not adverse to blowing things but-” She sighed. “You’re right. Dammit. Who’s next on the list?”

Dean checked his notepad. “Bronwyn Cromwell. Owns a- get this- magic shop in town.”

Y/N groaned. “Rabbits and hats or crystals and fuckery?”

“We’re about to find out.”

The door creaked as he opened it and the Impala jumped a bit as they both sank into their seats.

“Cromwell?” Y/N questioned, nose scrunched up in thought.

“Yeah. Why?”

“Sounds familiar…”

Dean laughed. “Well, it is the name of the town-”

She slapped his arm playfully. “Yes, I am aware. It just sounds like- I don’t know, maybe I read it somewhere.”

“She’s in the paperwork. Lisa Abbot worked for her for about a month before she quit breathing.”

Y/N chewed her lip. “Lisa Abbot… She was the first woman to be found?”

“Yup. Victimo numero uno.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

She shook her head and looked out the window. “I don’t know. Everything feels so off here it’s hard to tell what’s a feeling feeling and what’s just a feeling. Does that make sense?”

Dean sucked his teeth and jabbed the key into the ignition. “Kinda, yeah. But, that’s what we do, kid. We run towards screaming, we chop heads off monsters. If it starts feeling right- you’ve been doing it for too long.”

“So you don’t feel weird here?”

He laughed. “Are you kidding? This place’s got my ball hairs standing on end.”

“You are so gross…”

He grinned. “But cute.”

His smile danced in her head, striking a match of desire. She licked her lips and reached over, dragging her hand down his thick thigh. “Drive, cutie. I’m getting antsy.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

The Impala swerved a bit as he pulled away from the curb, but all was soon well and the peeping neighbors on Morey Street closed their curtains.

#cotc #dean winchester x reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #series

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