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imyourbratzdoll · 6 months

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𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆

🍓the strawberry shack masterlist🍓

summary - mark hasn't been having the best week and decides to take up a lead his boss gave him, only to wonder if he made the right choice.

warning - smut, oral sex, gloryhole, slight angst.

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

Mark sighed as he parked outside the building, he wasn’t having the best of weeks. Ever since they caught the copycat killer, he thought he had finally found some sort of happiness with Sidney but that all went down the drain when she dumped him out of the blue. Work had been keeping him away and he wasn’t seeing her as much, they both had planned on starting a family, but obviously that didn’t work out.

He shakes his head, pulling himself out of his thoughts as he looks toward the bright building. His boss sent him here, telling him to investigate as there’s been word on some illegal things happening. Grabbing his badge, he exits the car and begins to make his way over. It felt like the sign was pulling him toward it even more, something inside him calling for something other than work.

Mark enters the building and slowly walks up to the woman at the counter, her eyes watch him as she awaits his instructions. Mark clears his throat, looking around the room before settling on her. Before he can speak, she smiles and leans forward. “First time?” He nods, “I’d suggest the door on the left down the hall. But you gotta pay first.” Her hand goes out, awaiting payment.

Mark slowly puts some cash in her hand and walks in the direction she suggested. As he enters the room, he thinks. What the hell has he gotten himself into. He slowly makes his way around the room, knowing all he needs to do is head out and report back to his boss, but he stops at your hole. It feels like something is calling out to him, controlling him as he moves closer and reaches down to his tight slacks. “Fuck! What am I doing? I shouldn’t be doing this!” He whispers, feeling tingles shoot through his body as he palms himself.

“Why shouldn’t you be doing this?” You lean forward, enough to peak through the hole and eye his bulge and hands. “Don’t you wanna feel good? Wouldn’t it be nice to treat yourself? Especially seeing as you’ve already paid.” You watch him grip himself a bit harder, knowing your words are getting to him when he finally unzips them and pulls out his throbbing cock. “That’s a good boy. Now let me have a taste.”

Mark groans as he directs his cock through the hole, your tongue immediately making contact with his thick tip. “Jesus…” He rests his hands on the wall, his head following as you slowly suck him deeper into your mouth, your tongue swirls around him. You begin to bob your head, your eyes closing as his tip hits the back of your throat and you moan, causing his head to fly back as it vibrates around his cock, pleasure shooting all the way up his spine and into his head. “Shit! Shit!” His hips jerk and he moans, his eyes screw shut as his balls tighten and cum spurts out of his mushroom tip. “Fuck… That’s embarressing…” He mutters, resting his forehead back against the wall.

You continue to suck his softening cock, licking up all of his cum before you slowly pull back and give his tip a soft kiss, licking your lips, you speak. “Don’t be embarrassed, honey. It looks like you really needed that release.” You giggle, watching through the hole as he tucks himself back into his slacks. “Will I be seeing you again?”

Mark shakes his head and clears his throat. “I uh don’t know…” You watch with a pout as he turns and leaves without a goodbye. Mark flies out of there and quickly gets into his car before he lets out a breath. “What the fuck did I just do?!” His hands grip his hair, shivering as he remembers your lips wrapped around his cock. His head turns and he stares at the building, maybe it wouldn’t be so wrong for him to tell his boss there is nothing there. Maybe it wouldn’t be so wrong to go back and see you again.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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river13245 · 4 months

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Scream

Navigation / Main Masterlist

Characters

Gale Weathers (none yet)

Dwight Riley (none yet)

Billy Loomis (none yet)

Stu Matcher (none yet)

Sidney Prescott (none yet)

Ghost Face (none yet)

Roman Bridger (none yet)

Mark Kincaid (none yet)

Mickey Altieri (none yet)

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greenbergsays · 3 months

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Ked's right, I do have book recs that you can find under this tag and also some on my writing blog here. I also have a page here where you can see what's on my bookshelf, but you can't filter it because Tumblr doesn't allow Java anymore >__>

I wouldn't call that page a rec list, though, it's just an inventory of what I own or what's on my list to own. Some of those books are objectively terrible and I will freely admit that, but there was something about them compelling enough that I read them more than once.

I didn't mean for the below to turn into me just reccing you authors but it kind of turned into that, so here are authors I would recommend:

Onley James - I love her so much that I support her Patreon. All of her stuff is good (and loosely connected) but my favorites are, of course, the Necessary Evils series. It has two spin-off series which I also very much enjoy: Jericho's Boys & The Watch. All three series surround the psychopaths in love trope, however Jericho's Boys and the first book in the Watch series do not feature it as a main trope because neither of the main characters fit the bill. Most of them do feature some level of kink, though.

Kiki Clark - Her main series is werewolves (but no Omegaverse) and it's called the Kincaid Pack. The first book is my favorite, but I own them all. It's finished and she's starting a new series in that 'verse, the prequel to which I think is The Mobster's Mate, which is so up my alley it's like someone was spying on me. She also has a MC/kink series called Leather & Chrome that's good, but it's not my favorite kink series. (Kiki also have other contemporary books that I love, I just don't want this to get too long)

SPEAKING of kink. Robin (RJ) Moray - She has a series called His Boy Next Door that gay-awakening, age gap, and BDSM-related. It has a spin-off series about two other characters called A Collar For His Brat, both are excellent. The only thing is in HBND, the main character's name is Channon and that took some getting used to. Robin also has other books which I highly recommend--including a space Omegaverse story called Changed: Mated to the Alien Alpha, which is very good--she is probably my Top 3 favorite authors and the fact that more of her stuff isn't available in paperback is a source of constant misery for me.

Eliot Grayson -- The only person I can think of off the top of my head that writes well-written first person POV. The Mismatched Mates series is her main title iirc. It's a soul-bonding / "mate or die" situation at first and segues eventually into "mating for convenience." Some stories are related and some aren't.

Stella Starling -- if you like high fluff and low angst, this is the author for you. All of her stuff is contemporary and very cute. My favorite series is the Semper Fi one but I like & own them all.

Sam Burns (and Sam Burns w/ W.M. Fawkes) - They do anything fantasy/magic-related. Werewolves, urban fantasy, there's a series about the Greek Gods, etc. I haven't read ALL of their works, but the stuff I have read, I like. My favorites / the ones I own: Wolves of Kismet (Omegaverse), the Star-Marked Warrior series (sci-fi/aliens), & Wolf Moon Rising (Omegaverse).

Ella Frank (and Ella Frank w/ Brooke Blaine) - Contemporary writer(s) that specialize in writing multiple books for the same couple. There's a lot of gay/bi-awakening. The Temptation series is a fantastic audiobook journey that I cannot recommend enough, that narrator was amazing. I also really liked the first three Fallen Angel books are about the same couple and I love them, the fourth FA book is about a different couple and I DNFed it. Couldn't say why, it just didn't hold my interest.

...I have more, but I should probably work at some point this morning. So if you want more / want a specific rec for a specific trope or genre, lemme know!

#themoonlooksdown #greenberg replies #book recs #author recs

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whumpywhumper · 4 years

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Trouble

No 21. I DON'T FEEL SO WELL Chronic Pain | Hypothermia | Infection

TW: Sick fic, mostly fluff

Tagging: @misspelledwitch @insanitywishes @imagination1reality0 @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @voidwhump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @walkingchemicalfire @captivity-whump @liliability @muumimafia @fanastywhump @elisabethrosewrites @unsure-but-alive-752 @jeverest00 @texdoeshalo

As always, special thanks to: @0idril0 @rosesareviolentlyread

I’m spoiling you with content, it’s been months since i’ve posted this much. This is set shortly after Markus is released from the hospital, in the vague future timeline.

Masterpost

V***V

Markus shivered, pushing himself deeper into the couch, icy hand tucking the blanket around the exposed skin of his neck.

He really wanted to sleep. If he could sleep then maybe he’d start to feel better.

The doctors had warned him about pushing himself too hard so soon after being released, but working on one charm had rolled into the next, and before he knew it, he’d been working for hours. He had barely managed to drink some tea before the exhaustion was rolling over him. The sandwich he hadn’t even really wanted was still sitting on the coffee table, untouched.

What he really needed was sleep anyway.

He grunted, shifting on the couch to try and soothe the ache in his back and muscles. Now that he wasn’t vertical, he couldn’t find the motivation, or the energy, to get up and go to bed.

The couch was comfortable enough, usually. He would just sleep here.

If only he wasn’t so damn cold.

Groaning, he leveraged his heavy eyelids open and found Kincaid’s blanket thrown over the back of the couch. It was a thick, lumpy crochet thing that Ben had apparently made for him years ago, and the man was ridiculously proprietary of it. Even Ben wasn’t allowed to use it without suffering from Kincaid’s damn puppy dog eyes.

Heavy eyes slid across the room, the dusk light creating shadows over the empty apartment. From what he recalled, Ben and Kincaid wouldn’t be home until tomorrow. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

Snaking his arm out into the frigid air, he snagged the soft material and pulled it over his own blanket, the heavy weight pressing him back down into the couch. Heat slowly built under the blankets, and while Markus didn’t feel any more comfortable than before, it allowed his muscles to relax.

With a sigh, he let his eyes slide back closed, eyelashes feeling glued together. Absently, he hugged himself, arms bracing his perpetually aching ribs. He took a deep breath, coughing slightly as the air tickled his throat, and rubbed his cheek against the throw pillow.

Maybe he could sleep now. Get some energy back. He would feel better in the morning.

Ben unlocked the apartment door, his duffle hanging heavy on his shoulder as he made his way into the dark entryway.

Trying to be quiet, he lowered the bag to the floor and toed off his shoes. It had been a long day, and Ben was eager to get to bed even though he wouldn’t be sleeping next to Kincaid. The other officer was still on stake out, but Holland had sent Ben home.

He’d fucking fallen asleep. Twice.

Using the light of his phone, he illuminated his way into the kitchen, grimacing when the oven clock announced that it was two o’clock in the morning. He groaned lowly, rubbing at his whiskery cheeks. Grabbing a glass of water, he thought about rummaging in the refrigerator, using the microwave to heat up something, but he didn’t want to wake Markus.

They were getting along better, the witch was less wary of him now, but it was still day by day. Something about the fact that Ben wasn’t a supernatural made Markus nervous, and after everything he’d been through, it was tough to blame him.

Shuffling toward the living room, he yawned, intent on the bedroom at the opposite end. A soft, muffled whimper from the couch, however, halted him in his tracks, ice sliding down his spine.

He swung around, the dim light of the phone not doing much other than showing him an indistinct lump on the couch. Infinitely more awake than before, his hand snagged the chain on the standing lamp, the soft, yellow light flooding their apartment. Ben’s eyebrows drew together in concern when he made out the lump on the couch.

Markus’s tall figure was curled up there, somehow buried in the cushions to where only the back of his head was visible. Ben’s heart swelled when he realized that the witch was wrapped in Kincaid’s throw.The blanket was a monstrosity of yellow and white, Ben’s ill conceived hobby resulting in only the one blanket that he’d gifted to Kincaid for their second anniversary.

It was ridiculous, not to mention inappropriate, how his heart skipped a beat and sped when he thought about Markus being wrapped in it.

Padding over on sock clad feet, Ben peered into the cocoon of blankets and frowned at what he saw. Markus’s face was flushed, color high on the apples of his cheeks, and his eyes moved rapidly under red tinged lids. Ben cocked his head, ears picking up on the slight wheeze to each of his sleep heavy breaths.

“Markus?” he questioned softly, hesitant to startle his friend. The witch barely stirred, his nose wrinkling slightly as he let out another quiet sound of discomfort. As gently as he could, Ben brushed the back of his fingers against the sleeping man’s cheek, unsurprised by the heat he found there. He tsked, frown deepening.

On autopilot, Ben moved to he and Kincaid’s bathroom, collecting the supplies he would need and snatching one of his many kits from under the sink. He wasn’t terribly worried, even though the witch hadn’t been out of the hospital all that long. Markus’s immune system was down, and the witch hadn’t been very receptive to all of their warnings about taking it easy. This was probably just a bug, but he still needed to check Markus’s injuries and see if they’d gotten infected.

Back in the living room, Markus hadn’t moved, his dark hair glistening slightly with beads of sweat. Sliding an untouched sandwich out of the way, Ben set his supplies down on the coffee table, and started rubbing Markus’s shoulder through the blankets. “Hey, Markus,” he called, voice slightly louder than before but still soft, “I need you to wake up for a minute, okay?”

Markus shifted slightly, moaning in complaint when Ben started rubbing his back a little harder. “Wake up, buddy, I need to check you out.” Green eyes creaked open to glare at him, and Ben couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Even hazy with fever and sleep, Markus’s ire at being bothered was clear. “Easy there, tiger,” he chuckled, “it’s just me.”

“Ben?” Markus mumbled, voice rough, “wha’s goin’ on?”

“Yeah, buddy, it’s me,” he answered, smiling encouragingly, “I think you’ve got a fever, I gotta check you out, make sure nothing’s wrong.”

The other man grumbled, turning his face back into the pillow. “‘M fine, just need some sleep.”

“Nuh-uh,” Ben shook his head, not allowing him to escape that easy. He brushed his fingers through Markus’s hair, pulling gently at his shoulder. “At least roll over and let me check your temp, huh? Get some ibuprofen in you.”

“Don’ wanna,” Markus groused, “‘Lemme alone, ‘m sore.”

“Yeah, I bet you are,” Ben said under his breath, reaching behind him for the temporal thermometer. As well as he could, he pressed the small device against Markus’s forehead, rolling to get an accurate read. 101.8. He winced, whistling through his teeth. “Yeahhh,” he drawled, “you’re running a fever, Bambi. C’mon,” he coaxed, pulling at the corner of the blankets. He needed to get that fever down and the only thing the blankets were doing was making it worse.

Markus shivered, whimpering softly as the cool air hit his fever warm skin. “You suck,” he whined, “it’s cold.”

“I know I do,” Ben agreed, helping Markus as the witch finally cooperated and rolled onto his back. “I’m gonna grab you some water to wash these down with, I’ll be right back.”

Throwing his arm over his eyes, the witch nodded stiffly as he clenched his jaw against chattering teeth. “Be here,” he said faintly, fisting his free hand in the corner of the blanket.

Ben shook his head, pressing his lips together as the exposed line of Markus’s throat caught the dim light, the small, shiny scars from the bite marks standing out. The poor guy can’t catch a break, he thought darkly.

In the kitchen, he grabbed one of the chilled water bottles they had in the fridge. As an afterthought, he snagged a soft towel from their overstuffed drawer and wet it. He knew how much he hated being touched when he was running a fever, but he didn’t want that for Markus. Hopefully, the worn material wouldn’t chafe the witch’s oversensitive skin.

“Can you sit up for me, Markus?” he called, hearing a groan answer him. He returned to the witch leveraging himself up on his elbows, arms shaking as his dark hair fell into his face. Ben darted in to support Markus’s shoulders, murmuring a soft apology as his quick movement garnered a flinch. “Sorry, baby,” he murmured, the much more familiar endearment slipping from his lips as easy as breathing, “sorry, just want to help a little.”

Markus let him take over the movement, allowing Ben to brace him against the back of the couch as he sat next to him. “S’okay,” the witch sighed, “just dinn’t see you.” Their eyes met, and Markus’s placating smile wasn’t enough to hide all of the exhaustion that had nothing to do with fever and sickness.

Ben suppressed the instinctive need to soothe him, knowing it would just be taken as pity, and hummed in response. “Take these for me?” he requested, handing over a few ibuprofen. The witch grimaced, but tossed the pills back and dry swallowed with the practiced motion of one accustomed to a barrage of medications. Ben cracked open the water bottle and held it out, but one look at Markus’s shaking hands had him raising it for the other to drink.

A glassy, irritated glare was all the objection he received, so he let the bottle rest against Markus’s chapped lower lip, ignoring the way the water soothed the dry skin as he tipped it. Markus drank a few mouthfuls of the cool water, shaking his head and turning away with an exhausted sigh when he was done. “Okay, baby, just a little more, and I’ll let you go to sleep,” Ben said quietly, “Can I see those incision sites? I need to know if they’re infected.”

“Can’t get me outta my clothes that easy, Ben,” Markus slurred, eyelids firmly closed even as his lips lifted in a soft smile, “gotta at leas’ buy me dinner.”

Ben couldn’t help but laugh, his hand moving to brush the hair away from Markus’s eyes without even registering the motion. “Aw, c’mon gorgeous, you’ll make my night.”

Markus laughed, but the exhale turned into a low, grinding cough that made Ben’s smile drop into a concerned frown. The witch grimaced in discomfort, hugging his ribs as he tried to even his breathing. “Fucking hell,” Markus cursed, breaths rough in his throat.

“Yeah, okay, Bambi,” Ben soothed softly, petting through Markus’s hair again. His chest ached when the witch turned to nuzzle into Ben’s palm, the unconscious action startlingly comfortable. Reluctantly, he pulled his hand away, fingers going to the buttons of Markus’s soft flannel. Clinically, he examined his friend’s lingering injuries, moving the waist of his sweats as modestly as he could so that he could palpate the healing stab wound above his hip. Other than a grimace at the ache, Markus didn’t show any sign of discomfort, and Ben felt himself relax when there wasn’t any sign of infection.

“I don’t think anything’s infected,” he announced softly, pulling the stethoscope from his bag, “but I’m thinking that cough is going to be our culprit.” The cool circle of the tool made Markus jump, and Ben hissed in apology. “I always forget to warn about that, sorry, pumpkin. Take a deep breath for me?”

Markus obeyed, staying limp against the couch as he took the careful, measured breaths that Ben requested. His skin was pebbling with goosebumps as the fever made him shiver, a slight sheen of sweat highlighting his pale skin. “‘M really cold,” Markus whimpered, eyes sliding open to half mast as his breath colored with the sound of a sob.

Ben’s heart broke, and he set aside the stethoscope to pull Markus’s shirt closed. “I’m done, baby, I’m sorry. I know you’re cold.” He disentangled Kincaid’s throw from Markus’s and draped the crocheted blanket back over him, tucking it around him even though he probably needed the thinner material of the other blanket. “I think you’re gonna be okay, so no ER tonight. Do you want to stay here or do you want to go to your bed?”

“Not movin’,” Markus muttered petulantly, long, dark eyelashes kissing his rosy cheeks as he seemed to sink back into the cushions.

“Gotcha,” Ben chuckled, “I’m gonna help you lay back down, okay?” Carefully, he slid his arm under Markus’s shoulders, free hand cradling the back of the other man’s head as he moved to stand and free up the space on the couch.

A hand latched onto Ben’s bicep through the blanket, and he froze when Markus’s foggy green eyes fluttered open to stare into his own. “Don’t go?” the witch breathed, the request so soft that Ben wouldn’t have been sure he heard it except for the desperate longing in Markus’s eyes.

It was impossible for his weak heart to resist.

“Okay, sweetheart,” Ben replied, settling back onto the cushion and grabbing the damp cloth he’d set aside. Reverently, he maneuvered Markus so that he was in the circle of his arms, heart fit to burst as Markus’s cheek settled against his chest, “I won’t go anywhere.”

Gently, Ben pressed the cool cloth to Markus’s face, moving it over his heated cheeks and down to his neck. The witch sighed in relief even as another shiver stole through his body. Ben smiled sadly, knowing the contradiction of fever hot cheeks and cold aches that made your entire body sore. Absently, he pressed his lips against Markus’s hair, holding the other man as his breathing evened out into a restful sleep.

It wasn’t long before Ben joined him even with the light of the lamp pressing against his eyelids. The exhaustion of the day, the last several weeks really, catching up with him as he held his friend.

That was how Kincaid found them hours later. Ben’s legs stretched out in front of him and his cheek smashed into Markus’s hair. A gentle kiss to the forehead had Ben twitching and opening his eyes, automatically smiling as he met his lover’s gaze. “Hey, baby,” Ben whispered softly, words ponderous and sleepy.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Kincaid whispered back as he ran a hand through Ben’s dirty hair, “what’s going on?”

Ben hummed, blinking the sleep out of his eyes as he picked his head up. “Markus was running a fever,” he answered, yawning through his teeth. “He didn’t want to get up.”

Kincaid’s face creased in concern, moving his hand from Ben’s head to brush the back of his fingers against Markus’s cheek. The witch didn’t stir other than to curl his fingers tighter around Ben’s thigh, causing Ben himself to blink in surprise. He didn’t remember Markus’s hand moving there.

“He still feels a little warm, but it doesn’t seem high.”

“I think he pushed himself a little hard today, I don’t think it’s too serious. We’ll monitor him, make sure he takes care of himself and doesn’t let it get worse.”

Kincaid nodded, and Ben watched his lover’s eyes soften as he took in the two men curled together on the couch. His big hands were gentle when he pulled the edge of his blanket back around Markus’s shoulder, smoothing the bunched, well-loved yarn as he stroked his back. Already wrapped around his little finger, Ben thought, heart swelling.

“We’re in so much trouble,” Ben murmured, smiling softly when Kincaid’s eyes snapped over to his own. Ben didn’t feel anything other than acceptance, love, and affection in his expression when he pressed his cheek against Markus’s hair again. There was nothing else in his heart for both of these two.

“I know,” Kincaid whispered, shaking his head a bit as his growing smile turned rueful.

They didn’t need anything else to know that the other was on the same page.

Slowly, Kincaid bent to place a kiss on Markus’s forehead as well, his other hand curled around Ben’s nape.

#Whumptober2020 #No. 21 #Infection #Markus/Lucien Series #hurt/comfort #sickfic #fluff #Markus Protection Squad

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