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pinkcannibal · 9 months

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Hello! Would you be able to write a smut Marilyn x student reader please where the student got into a fight with another student and Marilyn gave them a detention and then punishes the reader? Could it be a soft dom Marilyn please? Thanks :)

of course! so sorry for the wait, after writing such big chaps for my fic im just starting to go through requests! hope u enjoy feedback so appreciated <33 as always w my fics, reader is 20 and a student.

title: unpunishable

pairings: marilyn thornhill x fem!reader, established relationship, reader/enid friendship

tw/warnings: extreme dumbification/degradation, deep throating, strap on usage, praise!kink, mommy!kink, soft dom!marilyn thornhill, bottom!reader, heavy subspace, fluff, smut, aftercare, strap packing, cum filled strap on, slight blood kink, small warning for violence against reader

word count: 5239

You can’t remember who started, or how it starts, but at the end of the day, you’re honestly just so fucking thankful that it did.

You’ll never just, sit there and let injustice happen; it’ll always feel like bile in your stomach and a festering, hot feeling of righteousness that demands to be felt. So really, it’s not your fault that when you overhear a fur from a nearby table next to yours talking about Enid’s face scars, that prickling feeling of unease and annoyance floods your throat.

Wednesday isn’t back from class yet, so when you look up and across the table, you realise Enid hears the comments too.

You soften, suddenly overcome with needing to make sure your friend is okay. If Wednesday was here, you know they’d already be murdered.

“Yeah sure,” You hear from the male furs. “That Sinclair chick took down a Hyde, but she still got her shit rocked.” Laughter rings out, making you reach across the table to lay your hand gently by Enid’s arm.

Enid winces at the words, blue eyes shining with tears in the afternoon sun.

“Hey,” You say, ducking your head slightly as Enid looks up. You send her a smile, squeezing to her arm. “Don’t listen to them, okay? They’re being...”

Pricks. Cunts. Dickheads. You land on something softer for Enid’s sake.

“Huge fucking assholes.”

Enid huffs on soft laughter at that, playing with a bracelet on her wrist that you remember Wednesday got her the other month for their anniversary. She’s looking to it longingly, absentmindly reaching up and touching her face scars.

The bracelet she seeks comfort in has a small wolf charm on it, and it reminds you of the garnet ring Marilyn got you two months ago. You flush red at the memory, feel your stomach flip as your thumb plays with the band on your ring finger.

At that moment, you look up, notice Miss Thornhill is standing by the entrance of the quad with Larissa and talking while overseeing the students; and when you catch eyes, she sends you a quick wink and soft smile that has you biting your lip on a lovesick grin.

“Thanks,” Enid says shyly, plastering on a bright smile as she tries to drown out the voices.

It brings you out of your haze, blinking back to the blonde and smiling in support back. “I know they’re wrong, Willa tells me every day. It’s just-”

And you’re so attentive to your friend, still blushing a little from Marilyn, and so empathetic and ready to listen to Enid that you honestly don’t feel the harsh, demanding shove on your shoulder until Enid’s frowning to someone behind your back.

“Hey!”

You frown aswell, turn in your seat at the touch and voice. When you look up, you realise it’s one of the furs from the table. The boy is tall, and when you raise an expectant eyebrow at him, he scoffs. He’s flanked by a werewolf girl you recognise from botany. You always thought she was nice, but now she’s scowling at you from beside him and you shrink a little at the sudden attention on you.

The boy folds his arms, spitting out. “Wanna call me an asshole to my face?”

You widen your eyes, wincing to yourself. Fuck, werewolf hearing. But instead of rising to the teenage scornful bait, you worry your bottom lip with your teeth and turn back around to Enid.

“Uh, nope, I’m good.”

Then you jump a little, because the girl that was next to him is suddenly grabbing to the lapel of your blazer, tugging harshly enough that you are pulled right from the picnic table.

The touch is so abrupt you freeze in your reaction, realising fast how serious this is as you’re hauled to your feet. You tumble and right yourself at the last second by grabbing to her clenched fist that holds your tie now, shoving her roughly off.

“What the fuck?” You exclaim, laughing in absurdity at the action. The girl comes back from the push, shoving you hard enough from her supernatural strength that you stumble back with your hands on the table. You part your lips in shock, blinking back to her at how fast this escalated.

Enid jumps up, growling and coming to your aid as she holds to your elbow to steady you. “Okay, seriously, back off-”

But the other fur ignores her, gritting out in some indignant rage that is hard to place, you’re not sure where the fuck it’s come from. Maybe she’s just one of those people who always feels angry at something, or someone.

“I think my boyfriend asked you a question, normie.” She spits to you.

“Oh my god,” You say, huffing on an incredulous laugh. “You’re insane. He started it by being such an obnoxious fucking asshole about my friend.” The girls' eyes harden, and Enid’s jaw drops in shock at your words.

“Jesus, it’s not my fault you’re so wrapped around his tiny dick that you can’t even-”

You have a less than a millisecond to register the punch that comes flying at your face.

And it’s not enough time to dodge or anything before it lands, sending you to the grass as stars blink behind your eyes. You feel how your nose immediately starts gushing blood, and you catch yourself on your palms, rolling on your back from the force. Leaning up onto your elbow, you cradle the spot that is now throbbing with pain.

“Shit,” You hiss, moaning at the excruciating, flaring ache. You quickly hold tighter to your nose, feeling blood drip down your uniform and into your mouth and to your chin.

You squeeze your eyes shut, tears stinging behind your eyelids from the pain and when you swallow you taste so much metal you gag.

Tilting your head back to the sky, you whine. “Shit, oh god, fuck that hurts-”

Enid gasps, by your side in a second and placing her hand by your shoulder. “What is wrong with you?” She growls up to the other furs, who are smiling and scoffing at how easily you went down.

It’s not really fair, you’re only human.

“Seriously? Are you guys twelve?” Enid spits out.

The blonde helps you up to the table, and you send her a warm, grateful look behind your bloody hand that Enid reciprocates. And before the girl who out of nowhere fucking punched you can get another jab in, you’re startling in your seat when you hear a shout.

“Hey!”

Still cradling your nose, blood down your wrist, you look up as Miss Thornhill makes it to you. You’ve never seen her so enraged, seething as she approaches your table and fixes her glasses in her hurry.

She must have seen the whole thing from where she was, and when you catch eyes, you honestly tear up a little more at how her entire demeaner shifts in the second she drinks in your state. Into something so worried and loving you feel like crying.

It’s back to a protective, hot anger once more the second her eyes land on the girl who punched you.

“You two,” She seethes to the furs, and you watch in satisfaction as they stand still, caught out as Marilyn frowns and folds her arms. She’s so fiery with rage her nails dig into her forearms.

“Go straight to Principle Weem’s office. Now.” She barks, making you flush red at her authority.

The furs seem shocked, completely unprepared for kind, sweet Miss Thornhill's voice to sound so dangerous, so they blubber for an excuse. The girl scoffs, flexing the hand she punched you with. You watch Marilyn’s eyes catch the movement, and her eyes darken impossibly more at the action.

“She started it, Miss Thornhill, she-”

Marilyn steps closer, narrowing her eyes, and your heartbeat goes erratic at her protective streak flaring for you. You shiver, swallowing thickly and tasting iron.

“Oh, I could not care less about who started it, young lady. Both of you, out of my sight.” She barks, and your breath hitches at the tone.

You watch in a daze how they glare to you, follow Marilyn’s instructions and leave. You shift in your spot, wincing at the pain in your nose and blushing as Miss Thornhill’s entire hard, angry façade falls away the instant she turns to you.

Her hazel eyes soften, she looks torn between whisking you away to look after you, or go follow those teenagers and murder them in broad daylight. Instead, the other woman immediately kneels infront of you, politely asking Enid to go tell the nurse they’ll be there shortly.

Then when the blonde is gone, Marilyn is tilting your chin up and you tear up even more when she hushes you gently, breathing out.

“God, baby,” She almost whispers, not to be heard, and it’s so tender your stomach flips.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt? I can’t believe they did that to you.” She furrows her brows, still so enraged but trying to hold onto something tender, because you’re hurt, and your wellbeing comes first before anything.

And her love for you, her angry but soft, concerned look has you so in her orbit, so ready for her care that it shocks you. The adrenalin is wearing off, all that’s left is this slight taste of fear. You don’t feel emboldened anymore, you feel slightly embarrassed at Marilyn seeing you like this.

But you still nod your head to her question, and sparkles of pain dance behind your eyes.

Marilyn notices, feels your slightly shaky free hand that she’s holding in your lap squeeze a little tighter, and softens even more so.

“Shh, it’s okay. I know, I bet it hurts, honey.” She says sympathetically, and your stomach flips.

“Here, can you lower your hand for me?” Marilyn gently coerces, wrapping her other hand around your bloody wrist that holds your nose. “I need to see how bad it is, sweet girl.”

You whimper in pain as the pressure leaves, eyes squeezing shut as Miss Thornhill’s gentle fingers prod to the ridge of your nose. You hiss and your knees snap together in response to the pain, gritting your teeth. She hushes you, apologising softly as she finishes assessing.

“Sorry," She breathes out sincerely. “Thank God, it’s not broken.” And you deflate a little in relief at that.

“Really?” You anxiously say, relaxing as Marilyn nods and sends you a small, reassuring smile.

Then you’re widening your eyes as the blood doesn’t stop, you quickly hold your soaked hand to your nose again and whine; apologetically looking to Miss Thornhill as some of your blood dripped on her hand.

“Oh my god, I-I'm sorry Marilyn. I didn’t mean to.”

But the red head just smiles, absolutely unfazed at the blood on her as she chuckles endearingly.

“Sweetie, you have nothing to apologise for. I’m a teacher, this is more common than you think. Here,”

Then Marilyn is shrugging off her cardigan, leaving her in her soft blouse and slacks as she tilts your chin up again and patiently waits for you to lower your hand.

Realisation dawns on you as you stutter at the loving action, blushing to your neck. “Wait, no, I don’t want to ruin your-”

Miss Thornhill patiently interrupts you, raising a faux stern eyebrow. “Hush, baby girl,” You quieten instantly, the term so familiar and achingly alluring you sink into that space. And your obedience isn’t lost on the other woman, she hums pleasantly as her eyes warm.

“Your wellbeing means more to me than some cheap cardigan. Now,” She starts, still holding to your chin patiently. “Lower your hand for me, please.”

You bite your lip, realise too late that in doing so you taste more blood. But you do what she says and gently reach up with her as Marilyn places her bunched up cardigan to your bloody nose, and you melt with how doting she’s being, even so publicly. You can smell her perfume on the fabric (its so comforting and addicting you ache) as you blink away tears and blush when you shiver at the sensation.

And you know to anyone else she just looks like she’s doing her job, but you suddenly want to be somewhere private, somewhere you don’t have to hide the love on your face for her.

Almost as if reading your mind, the other woman stands up, laying her palm softly by your shoulder and urging you up. She looks like she wants privacy too, some place she can kiss your injury and hold you close.

“Come with me, darling. I have remedies that will help with the bruising.”

You follow like second nature, but can’t help pouting a little behind her cardigan at the words. “Oh, bruising?” You’ve never been punched in the face before, how bad can it be?

Marilyn huffs on this soft laugh, one that makes your eyes go a little love struck. As you walk to her conservatory, she places her hand protectively on your lower back to guide you, and you sink into the comfort all too willingly.

“Yes, unfortunately.” She says, humming thoughtfully. “But not to worry, nature can heal anything, sweetheart.” She sends you this adorable teasing wink, one that has you smiling behind her cardigan.

Then, in the almost empty halls of Nevermore, Miss Thornhill leans a little closer to your ear as you walk. Her hand at your lower back snakes to your hip, squeezing once and making you flush red.

“Besides,” She starts, making your breath hitch at her low voice. “I hate the thought of my pretty girl’s face all marked up.”

You swallow thickly at her tone, taste blood and desire and try and not shiver at her voice.

You fail, because pretty girl from her lips feels like heaven, making you think with a sudden, pathetic need, that: yes, that’s all I am, mommy. I’m your pretty girl. Nothing else.

The flush on your cheeks must be obvious, because Marilyn smirks and leans back, and her touch doesn’t leave your hip the whole way.

Her grip says: I’m not done with you. You’re mine. Just wait until I show you.

Miss Thornhill doesn’t take you to the nurses office, or the conservatory like you thought, but straight to her private dorm on the wing of Ophelia Hall.

You’ve been here before, but it never fails to make your heartbeat thud dangerously in your chest.

Because you think of all the nights you’ve spent here with her, and they pass through your memories sending you into this spacey fog that is impossible to come back from.

(Marilyn taking you on her bed for the first time, fucking you against her kitchen counter with her strap as you moaned into her neck, the moment you went down on her on her couch in front of the fire, and Marilyn said how good you felt as she pulled your hair and came all over your chin and down your neck.

Or the first time you kneeled for her, took her cock in your mouth, choking softly with watery doe eyes looking back up to her. And she was so gentle with you as she fucked you mouth, dripping you in praise so sweet you felt like floating; because Marilyn groaned at seeing you on your knees and so dumbed down. Her hips stuttered, it made you whine as she fucked your throat harder, and you drooled around her and she -)

“Darling?”

Marilyn’s amused voice brings you out of your daze, blinking back to her as she shuts her dorm door behind you both. You watch her make it to her kitchen, crouching slightly by the cupboards to find her remedies and a soft cloth to clean you up with. You shyly smile back, blush a little, as best as you can still nursing her cardigan to your injured nose.

“Sorry,” You say. Marilyn looks to you, softens as she stands up and walks over. You gasp a little when the other woman gently takes the fabric of her cardigan from your nose, checking if it’s still bleeding.

The pads of her fingers tilts your chin up, and you obediently move your head to her will.

“I think the punch gave me a headache? I’m all...”

Marilyn hums in question when you trail off, wiping her thumb softly against the slick vibrant red at your top lip to smear it away.

Your chest goes breathless at the action, dazed and needy as she then wipes it properly off with the washcloth she grabbed. Marilyn must have run it under the tap when you were lost in your daydream, because when she carefully wipes at your lips, its warm and comforting like her touch.

“Spacey.” You breathe out, so suddenly dizzy it’s hard to stand. You sway a little, caught by Marilyn’s steady hand at your waist as she chuckles fondly.

You blink, flush red, reach up to hold to her flexing biceps and almost swoon again.

God, you think. I love your arms. Pin me down, hold me close, I love how strong you are. Show me just how much.

“Sweetheart, I think you need to sit down.” She says affectionately, fixing her glasses.

And you’re helpless to how pliant you are like this. You nod immediately, and don’t miss how Marilyn sends you this knowing look, like she knows what headspace you’re falling into.

Maybe it’s the way she protected you, so enraged at the mere sight of seeing you injured – you love her possessive streak, you love when her nice, perfect demeaner falls away the second you’re in danger.

Maybe it’s the way that being here, in her dorm, makes you think of all the ways she’s taken you. Of riding her until you can’t think, of her saying in such a mocking, sweet way that: “Oh baby, does Mommy have her dumb girl on her cock right now?”

Fuck.

You sit onto her couch with a soft, out of it thump, looking back up to her with stars in your eyes.

Miss Thornhill just chuckles fondly at your expression, resuming wiping gently at your nose with the warm washcloth.

You soften, blush a little, being looked after like this is making you warm all over. The other woman is so careful as she dabs at your skin, other hand tilting your chin up to her; she hushes in apology when you wince at a particular spot she cleans that feels tender.

Then, your face is clean of blood, the tip of your nose kissed tenderly by Marilyn. You honestly tear up a little at the gesture.

“Now,” Marilyn begins softly, fingers tightening just this slight amount on your chin. You shift at the sudden change as she forces you to look up into her gaze.

“I need you to be honest with me, baby. Can you do that?”

Your throat bobs at her tone, how small and chastised it makes you feel. You glide your hands up and down the tops of your thighs, because suddenly the urge to reach up and tug at her belt loops needily washes over you.

“Mhm.” You hum out affirmatively, and Marilyn’s hazel eyes flash at how obedient you’re being as you nod softly.

The other woman then worries her bottom lip, sighing softly. “Was that girl telling me the truth? Did you start the fight, my love?”

Your lips part, immediately shaking your head and stuttering out. “N-No! No, I swear, Mari. She threw the first punch after I-”

You suddenly stop, blushing hot and pink across your nose as you realise that. Well. Technically you did. You retaliated by calling them assholes and sneering at them; but you never pushed back, or instigated anything more than words being hurled.

Marilyn raises an eyebrow at how you shrink, shaking your leg up and down in nervousness as you shut your eyes briefly at being caught out.

“After you what? Did you start the fight, honey?” She patiently questions; yet her voice has hardened slightly, into this sweet syrupy disappointed lilt.

You whine, opening your eyes slowly back up to her and slurring out. “Um, I, no? I just...”

Words are so fucking hard right now, you feel all fuzzy and lightheaded being scolded, even more so that you’ve already been daydreaming about needing her, of her fucking you dumb until you can’t walk.

Then, hot heat rushes to the small of your belly, because Marilyn snorts on this sardonic chuckle and rolls her eyes, lightly slapping your cheek with the hand that was at your chin. You whimper, squirm in your seat at the light pleasurable sting of it.

“Baby,” She coos, furrowing her brows mockingly to you and tsking; you blush to your chest at the tone.

“It’s not a hard question.” Marilyn continues, and when her hand retakes your chin, thumb rubbing softly to your bottom lip, you sink.

“It’s very easy actually, you just answer “Yes, mommy” or “No, mommy.”

Your stomach flips, the condescension has you dizzy, like Marilyn’s words were the stoking metal prod to your embers and Mommy hits you right in the chest. You part your lips, throat choking on this pathetic moan as you answer her, shaking your head like a good girl.

“No,” You say, nibbling lightly at your bottom lip in need. You know your doe eyes are glassy, sheened over with the subspace Marilyn guides you into.

“No, mommy. I didn’t start it. I...” You whine, shut your eyes in shame as you squirm in your seat. “I just, they were being cruel to Enid, so I called them names. And- and taunted them. Then she hit me.”

At hit me, you see Marilyn’s dominant façade crack this slight amount, because just the thought of you hurt breaks her heart. And you swoon, eagerly tilt your head when she bends down a little and kisses you softly. You chase it, mewl into her mouth when Miss Thornhill deepens it and sighs against your mouth.

“Good girl,” She murmurs, and you chase the praise until it sinks into the small of your belly, has your eyes reopening and sheening over with want.

“Thank you for being honest with me, baby.” Marilyn says, but you don’t have a moment to preen at the words, or feel anything other than a want so deep and visceral you go lightheaded at the sensation because then she sighs out-

“I still have to punish you though, honey.” Marilyn says, and her thumb smooths back and forth over your bottom lip, making you shiver. Your lips part slightly as you beg with your eyes, wanting Marilyn to push past your lips and make you suck it.

“I’m not happy with how you put yourself in danger like that,” The other woman says, disapproving yet soft, her hazel eyes are still so gentle around the edges. “You could have seriously gotten hurt if I hadn’t stepped in.”

You nod, too caught in her aura to agree to anything else. She’s right, Marilyn’s always right. And you can be her good girl and agree and sit pretty and patient, just how she loves you.

“You’re right, m’sorry, Mari.” You slur slightly, blushing across your cheekbones at the way your brain drops.

You squeeze your thighs lightly together, finally your desperation wins out as you reach up and hook your fingers in the belt loops of her slacks. You tug, doe eyes watering needily. “I could have gotten so hurt without you.”

The soft groan that leaves Marilyn’s throat at how you recite her words, how you look beneath her, makes you gush; it has you throbbing at the mere sound of it. She tuts, pouting mockingly too you as you tug at her pants pathetically.

“Oh, that’s right, my darling girl. You’re just so useless and dumb, hm? Need Mommy for everything don’t you?”

At that, you fall.

You’re nothing but Marilyn’s now, you’re nothing but her dumbed down girl to use and control, you’re nothing but whatever she moulds you into and the whine that leaves your lips is so desperate, so wanting, that your voice cracks on the weight of it.

Marilyn’s eyes darken at the sound, thumb pulling down your bottom lip and playing with you softly. You’re almost drooling in her hold.

“I think your punishment should fit the crime, baby.” She says, eyes flicking immediately to your bobbing throat. She looks enamoured by you like this, all pliant and willing in her hold.

When she speaks next, Miss Thornhill’s voice is so gravelly and husky your thighs gush sticky with your wetness.

“You’re gonna take Mommy’s cock in your throat like a good girl. I need my pretty baby to use her mouth for something else other than insults. Does that sound fair, sweetheart?”

Oh my fucking god.

The tears at your eyes almost fall down your cheeks, you whimper, you bounce a little in your seat in eagerness and nod your head because you want that feeling so bad again; the first time you did it wasn’t enough, because Marilyn didn’t give you the satisfaction of letting her cum filled strap go down your throat, she stopped before letting you take her cum the way you so desperately wanted.

Marilyn kisses your cheek to let you know she heard your silent pleas, and you’re suddenly breathless because you let Marilyn tug you up and switch positions – wordlessly pushing to your shoulders to kneel as she sits at the couch.

She murmurs this sweet and praise filled: “Good girl.” that you blush at, sinking to your knees immediately and trying not to grind on the heel of your feet in need because- fuck, god,- you watch your girlfriend’s veiny, lilth fingers simply unbuckle her belt as her hips rise a little to tug her work slacks down.

Your heartbeat is solid and loud in your lower belly, because this whole time Marilyn’s been packing and you had no idea. She takes her length out of her briefs, pants pooled at her mid thigh, and you whimper you fucking shiver when Marilyn’s hand strokes her cock slightly, tugging lovingly to your hair at the base of your neck so you fall fowards, letting go and gliding to your mouth.

And with one, simple command, you soak your underwear and almost start to sob. “Open, honey.”

You part your lips obediently, looking back up with needy doe eyes and the sight looks like it sends Marilyn crazy. You know if her cock was real she’d be rock hard, leaking pre cum all over your lips and chin just at seeing you like this. The image is enough to make you whine, push forwards eagerly and take the tip of her length in your mouth as your lips close around her.

Miss Thornhill groans, deep and guttural, she can’t stop the involuntary buck of her hips to go deeper and your throat accommodates so easily, moaning as she sinks halfway deep into your mouth.

Your eyes water, choking slightly in need as Marilyn starts pulling out, just to sink back into your mouth and bite her lip on a whimper at seeing you let her fuck your throat.

“Baby,” She breathlessly moans, hand coming to tug at your hair and make you mewl around her cock. She sets a slow pace, her grip holding you in place as her hips grind into you.

“Oh god, that’s it. Take me, sweetheart. Such a good girl. You look so pretty like this.”

You blink, a desperate tear falling from your eyelid at how spacey and good you feel – you close your eyes and suck her cock earnestly, reaching up to tug her forwards by her harness that peaks through her briefs.

Marilyn gasps, lets out this aroused and feral growl of “Oh fuck, baby,” that has goosebumps lining across your arms and inner thighs. Then she’s picking up her pace, making you choke and drool around her cock until your making this desperate, whining noise at the back of your throat where her tip hits.

You love hearing Marilyn like this, breathless and panting at how dumbed down and hers you look right now. Then her hand that was tight in your hair glides down, cups you at your jawline; it has you whining around her as she never lets up in rolling her hips and fucking you.

“Gonna come in your mouth, sweetheart.” She groans, eyelids fluttering shut briefly at your answering wanton mewl. When they reopen, her hazel eyes are almost black as her throat bobs in desperation. “Want Mommy’s cum all down your throat? You’ve been so good with your punishment, I think you deserve a reward.”

Even if you weren’t taking her like this, you know you wouldn’t be able to speak at hearing that. You tug needily on her strap harness in answer, moan and nod as best as you can around her length and before you can question how, because you don’t realise the type of strap she’s wearing, Marilyn’s reaching to the base of her cock just where your lips are starting to hit.

You see the tendon of her wrist flex, then nothing exists in your mind, you go completely head empty and dumb when you feel the warm, wet feeling of her releasing in your mouth and down your throat.

And even though Marilyn can’t actually feel it she, fuck, she puts it on for you. She moans and gasps and praises you, doesn’t stop until you’ve taken every last drop. The feeling of her thick ropes of cum filling you have you moaning desperately, muffled as you whine and swallow as best as you can.

You feel this familiar, gut-wrenching twist in your lower belly and you mewl pathetically, realising that you’re fucking coming yourself at feeling Marilyn gush down your throat. You blush when you clench around nothing, soaking your underwear and whimpering as your doe eyes water and you reach your peak so fast and so suddenly.

You know you’re drooling; you know you’re so fucked dumb that there’s spit and Marilyn’s cum leaking from the corner of your lips, but you don’t care, you don’t care when it feels so fucking good.

And the sight of you has Miss Thornhill part her lips on a feral moan, slowing down her thrusts as she finishes in your mouth.

Her thumb catches and wipes away the line of her cum and drool leaking from your lips, making you let out this needy gasp as she pulls her cock from your mouth. You feel empty, eyes watering at not having Marilyn all around you. The other woman notices, pouting mockingly and tilting your chin up with the hand that wiped your lips.

“Oh honey, you’re okay.” She coos, and you feel like there’s sunlight under your skin.

“You did so well for me. Such a good girl, always. God,” She breathes out, in awe at you kneeling for her. “You’re such a good fuck toy for Mommy, aren’t you?”

Your throat chokes on this pathetic whimper, it floors you it fucking brings you to a mindset you’ve never felt before. Yes, you’re her fuck toy. You’ll be whatever she needs you to be. You nod immediately, nuzzling into her palm and begging for more, begging to ride her cock until you don’t know your own name.

And Marilyn gives it to you, over and over and over again.

This doesn’t feel like a punishment, it feels like fucking heaven.

#marilyn thornhill x reader #marilyn thornhill #wednesday netflix #laurel gates x reader #marilyn thornhill x fem reader #reader fic #christina ricci #reader & enid sinclair #my fic #oooh this got so long. did not mean that dksskd but feels good to post a request!

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