Captivate | By : SapphireOcean Category: Celebrities - Misc > Het - Male/Female Views: 1838 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction! I do not know Markiplier/Mark Fischbach or Ellie Goulding, and I do not profit from this fic. |
Cracky McCrackship hoooo~ A crush on Markiplier + listening to Ellie Goulding while i fall asleep = dreams of them together apparently. This is idfic of the highest order for me so I don't relly give a fig about anything XD
When she realized she couldn’t take her eyes off his mouth, she fumbled for her drink, took a bracing swallow, and said, “If I have to look at your lips for one more second without kissing them, I think I’m going to go crazy."
Mark's brow knit in confusion as he tried to register her words over the noise in the bar. Then his eyes widened, and a flush crept up his neck, into his cheeks. A strange half-light sparked in his eyes, creating something warm in the pit of her stomach. The warmth expanded at the tone of his voice when he said, "Go ahead."
Leaning forward until she was close enough to feel his breath on her face, she reached up with her thumb and gently stroked his bottom lip. His sigh gusted hot over her lips; his posture went from alert to relaxed.
Ellie's world instantly shrunk. No longer were they in the corner of this crowded bar; they were utterly alone, in darkness, every breath magnified. His eyes were liquid brown, so many emotions fighting for space in them that it made her heart ache.
Lighter than a feather, Mark's tongue darted out against her thumb. Her breath caught, stuck in the strange mix of adoration and lust burning in her lungs.
He broke the stillness first. Grasping her wrist with both hands, he brought her hand to his mouth and nipped at the space between her thumb and forefinger, looking at her with inquisitive eyes.
Her trapped breath came out in a shaking rush. She was so caught up the maelstrom of feelings that she barely heard him whisper, “Taste me.”
She blinked at him.
Keeping his eyes locked to hers, he touched his tongue to the center of her palm and said it again, with a soft, "Please."
That cleared the heady fog in her mind. With new resolve, she closed the last inch between them, licking at his lower lip with just the tip of her tongue.
He melted, falling forward against her as a moan fell from his mouth, and his hands found the support of her shoulders with clumsy speed.
She pulled away only minutely, so that his forehead came to rest against hers. Then she sucked in a breath, and so did he, and her heart pounded sharply against her chest.
And then, “What flavor am I?” Mark asked her, again so softly she could hardly make out the words.
She smiled, nudged his nose with hers. "I need another sample," she said, and wrapped her arms around his neck as she moved viper-fast to capture his mouth.
His moan bloomed into her mouth as she ran her tongue across his lips and slid in between them. His tongue pressed and rubbed against hers with a fervency that sparked a fire in her chest, in her head, between her legs, and when they pulled apart again they were both gasping for air.
His gathered her in his arms and pulled her onto his lap, burying his face into the crook of her neck. Surrounded by his trembling warmth, she settled against him, willing her heart to slow down, allowing herself to feel small for a few moments.
"Caramel," she said into his ear after seconds of quiet; the noise he made sent a tingle of warmth down her spine. "You taste like salted caramel."
His quiet laughter shivered through her skin, and he pressed her even more tightly against him.
"What do I taste like?" she whispered, stroking the edge of his hair with her fingertips.
"I'm... I'm not sure." He lifted his head and met her eyes. That unidentifiable spark was still there, and the desire shot through her heart with cosmic force— she wanted to protect him, to give him everything, to...
She froze, mind racing with confused images. But he smiled, and she relaxed, smiling back when he said with utter seriousness, "Strawberries."
"That's just the lip gloss," she said with a glibness she hardly felt.
He shook his head, still smiling, leaned in to bump their foreheads together. "Nuh-uh. Like real strawberries. I—I had to think about it first because—" His smile disappeared, his mouth went slack and she saw his eyes were nearly black, save for that quiet light. A tingle of a different sort spread over her skin. "I was feeling so, so much…" He hugged her again and the full body shudder that struck him mesmerized her. "I couldn't think at all." His voice was even lower than usual, a slight tremble running through it. "It felt unreal. I don't know what happened, but..."
His fingers were carding through her hair now, she realized. In the back of her mind, she felt the need to say something, anything to stop what she sensed was coming, but she couldn't think how to get words past the dam in her throat.
"I felt like... you claimed me." He pulled away once more to look at her. "Like I belonged to you," he said, just above a whisper. "And it was the most wonderful feeling in the world."
It was something like she'd thought he would say and nothing had happened... except for her realizing that she felt the same way. The dam broke, and the rush of affection and need was so strong it almost hurt. "I want you to be mine," she said, huskily. "I do."
Mark licked his lips; another pang of need stung her. In one motion she raised her hand and pressed two fingers to his mouth. His lips parted; slowly he drew her fingers in.
The smallest of gasps escaped her; her eyes drifted shut automatically, but she forced them open, needing the beautiful sight of his perfect mouth surrounding her fingers. A gentle suck, and then he released them just as gently.
The flood of wetness from her nether regions was shocking and unsurprising simultaneously. When she shifted on his lap she thought she'd pass out, and when his fingers slipped under her skirt, brushing against her panties, the whine that left her throat surprised her (and him, by the way his eyes widened).
"We need to leave," she said, tight-voiced. "Now."
He nodded, then shifted his hands to her rear as she put her arms around his neck; when he stood she ended up pressed against him and she couldn't stop the moan.
"Put me down," she gasped, "you're gonna kill me."
He grinned shakily as he let her down. They somehow found their way out of the bar, into the more breathable air, and the cool let their lungs revive on their way back to his place.
She had her hands under his shirt before he unlocked the door, and he was kissing her before they reached the living room, and they fell onto the couch in a tangle.
She pulled away from him long enough to get her skirt down, and then splayed her legs, fixing him with a heated stare. He fairly drooled before removing his glasses, setting them aside, and bending down between her legs.
"Mark, no...!" She caught his face in her hands, inadvertently giggling at his quizzical expression. "You sweet man. I swear I'll die if you do that now.” She guided him up to her and kissed him hard. "Your fingers. I want your fingers," she whispered against his mouth.
With a cheeky smile, he brought three fingers to her lips. She took them eagerly, licking them cat-like before pulling them into her mouth, sucking hard.
The moan leapt from him, sharp and loud. "Ellie," he gasped, cheeks reddening.
She opened her eyes and regarded him hazily. "Now you know how you made me feel."
"I had no idea. Why is that so—"
"Hell if I know," she said with a soft laugh. She grabbed his hand and pulled it downward. "Now fuck me."
"God, yes," he breathed, sliding his fingers reverently over her panties before slipping them inside, and inside.
"Oh, my god, Mark." She arched against his hand, gasping shakily. "Faster, please, your pants—"
"Huh?"
"Closer."
He scooted closer to her, fingers still searching, and looked at her with adoration. "Is it good? You're so wet."
"Yeah... I wanna make you feel good, too."
His entire face went red, and he fumbled for his zipper. He managed to get his pants down, but as he went for his boxers she stopped him.
"Leave them on," she managed, licking her palm and putting her fingers into her mouth briefly.
He swallowed, licked his lips. "O-Okay."
"Closer, I can't— fuck!" she cried as his fingers brushed against her g-spot. As she shuddered around his fingers, she shoved her hand into his boxers and he practically yelped.
"Okay, harder, please," he said, voice shaking. He groaned deeply as her hand closed around him and started moving. "Oh, shit, yes..." He leaned over her, bringing his head to rest on her shoulder, and moaned right into her ear.
She gave an answering moan, working her hand faster, still wiggling against his fingers. "I'm close," she whispered.
"Fuck. Gonna make you come so hard..." He was panting now, fingers stroking her desperately.
When he slipped in a third finger, she nearly saw stars. “Oh—” She whined, jerked up against him, so close her spine tingled. “Oh, Mark, god, Mark--!”
A helpless cry left her as she convulsed greedily around his fingers. His dick throbbing in her hand somehow made it even better. “Yeah, come on--”
Her name disappeared into a jagged groan, and his release coated her hand.
Their gasping breaths mingled as they lay tangled together, shaking, his fingers still inside her and her hand still around him.
"Oh, my god," he said hoarsely.
"Holy shit." She sighed. "That was..."
"Amazing."
Their heart rates slowly returned to normal. By then they were acutely aware of the stickiness but reluctant to move.
"So, uh..." He lifted his head to look at her, glasses adorably askew. He cleared his throat, took a breath, and said, straight-faced, "Welcome to my humble abode."
Laughter attacked her, and she slipped sideways against him, burying her face in his shirt. "Couldn't have asked f-for a-- lovelier introduction...!"
She felt his smile in his arm around her shoulder.
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