I’m back from my break, my old account was @marksbear/ so it’s a redo of my intro. So I can change things.
I’m officially gonna start writing here! So imma just gonna make a quick run down of who am I and how this is gonna work!
My name is Mark! I’m 26 he/him and Pansexaul! Brazilian 🇧🇷 ! English is not my first language!
My favorite animal are Bears so don’t be surprised if you see alot of Bear related things on the blog.
I’m going to write for a male/ gn/ Ftm(trans) readers, so anyone that goes by She/her She/they can go ahead and get out of here. So it won’t have any issues in the future.
I’m in a lot of fandoms like fox 9-1-1, interview with the vampire, Hannibal, Top gun, ANY SLASHER, The boys, Marvel, DC, Supernatural, Euphoria, What we do in the shadows and Our flag means Death. The walking dead, the last of us. And all of those are from shows and TV.
BUT Thats not all I do write for video games like Overwatch, Tf2, Genshin impact, Call of duty, DBD,.
I can basically write for almost any fandom. DON’T BE AFRAID TO REQUEST SMUT
Rule link- Here.
Fandom link- Here.
JOIN THE BEAR CLUB
All of the claimed Anon emojis! 🦉 💤 ♌ 🦊 🧛 🐼 🐍 🐻❄ 💀 ⚰ 🍀 🗝 🦝🐉🐇🫧 🐰💣🤡🦈🪲🍓🦎♐️🐙🐡
I thought all x reader writers where yumishippers. Since I'm a writer who yumiships myself with the characters I write about. (I'm a male/masc reader/writer.) I shouldn't have presumed. Sorry.
Hmmm 🤔 this is a slippery slope. Bc I really don’t know what the definition is. I always thought of male reader as just a regular self-insert. But when you put it that way it makes sense! So don’t say sorry I’m only trying to learn!
But recently with all these new terminology and English isn’t being my first language I was very confused about what it was. Because when I asked my friend she was like “It’s when someone thinks that they’re dating a character and is very possessive over them.”
And again don’t say sorry I’m only trying to educate myself!
I kinda like having small popularity. I like just having a small community of 2K followers. It’s easier to interact and actually get to know my anons and etc
I hope to stay niche forever I would hate being a huge male writer bc I can’t imagine the stress 😭
Is it just me but I’ll like start to rant and vent in these post but never post them. Like I’ll be venting in these paragraphs then just put them in my drafts. 😔
It can’t just be me!!! Like I’ll be writing something personal and then be like nope I’m not sharing this.
Bish that drag queen reader got me thinking of a few outfits that reader has, from the video game date everything (Last one is specifically the one reader wears during the interview):
Actually that fic kinda sparked an attraction for me to drag queens and stuffed. I watched a few movies and saw a few at a pride parade it was such a cool experience for me
The Beef season two is kinda better than season one. Especially because Oscar Isaac is in it. And I think that some of the haters for the season are blinded by nostalgia from season two…
tags: dom bottom older reader, (very light) fauxcest, dad/son fauxcest, needy and whiny john...yummers, sub top john, set in s2 i think, uninterested and cold reader but he still lets homelander hit, oral (reader receiving) reader is vought’s second in charge, overstimulating john!!! yayy!!
autor's note: this was kind of a mix of two similar requests i got hehe one of them being from @p3rvted <3 love u platonically!!
NSFW UNDER THE CUT
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𓎟𓎟𓎟𓎟 ❤︎ ﾟ｡ ❀ ｡ﾟ ❤︎𓎟𓎟𓎟𓎟
The boardroom at Vought Tower was as sterile and oppressive as ever. You sat at the head of the long table, second only to Stan Edgar himself, reviewing quarterly projections with the kind of detached precision that had earned you your position. After Madelyn Stillwell’s death, the company needed stability. You provided it— cold, calculating, and utterly uninterested in the theatrical nonsense that surrounded Homelander and the rest of The Seven.
You had never been impressed by Homelander.
Not when he was a lab-grown golden boy throwing tantrums, not when he slaughtered his way through rivals, and certainly not now, as he paced behind your chair like a caged animal while you signed off on budget reports.
“Hey.” He said, voice tight with that boyish need he tried so hard to hide. “You’ve barely looked at me all week.”
You didn’t even glance up. “I’ve been busy, John. Some of us actually run this company instead of playing dress-up for cameras.”
The other executives shifted uncomfortably. No one spoke to Homelander like that. No one except you.
He stopped pacing. You could feel the heat of his gaze on the back of your neck. “I need to talk to you. Alone.”
You sighed, looking at Stan Edgar for...permission, closing your folder when he smiled. “Fine. Everyone out.”
The room emptied in seconds. When the door clicked shut, Homelander was on you instantly — dropping to his knees beside your chair, hands gripping your thigh with barely-restrained desperation.
“Please.” He whispered, voice cracking. “I can’t… I can’t do this anymore. Everyone’s afraid of me. They worship me, but they don’t love me. Not like you could. Just…give me something. Anything.”
You looked down at him — America’s greatest hero, reduced to begging at your feet. A small, amused smile tugged at the corner of your mouth.
“Pathetic.” You said coolly, but there was no real cruelty in it. Just observation. “The great Homelander on his knees for an old man who doesn’t even like him.”
He whimpered—actually whimpered, pressing his face against your thigh. “I know you don’t. But I need you. Please, I’ll do anything.”
You sighed again, running a hand through his perfect golden hair. You knew how dangerous he was when denied. Better to give him this small mercy than risk one of his tantrums destroying half the tower.
“Fine, kid.” You said, voice detached. “My house. Tonight. Don’t make me regret this.”
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𓎟𓎟𓎟𓎟 ❤︎ ﾟ｡ ❀ ｡ﾟ ❤︎𓎟𓎟𓎟𓎟
Your private residence was a sleek, minimalist penthouse far from Vought Tower. No cameras. No security that could be bought. Just silence and control.
Homelander arrived exactly on time, cape discarded, looking more like a lost boy than a hero.
You were already on the couch, legs spread confidently, nursing a glass of whiskey. Older, experienced, and completely unbothered by the most powerful being on the planet standing nervously in your living room.
“Strip.” You ordered calmly.
He obeyed instantly, peeling off the suit with trembling hands until he stood naked before you, cock already half-hard from anticipation.
You took a slow sip of whiskey, eyes raking over him with mild amusement. “Look at you. So eager. So needy. C'mon, boy, sit.”
He dropped to his knees between your legs without hesitation. You set the glass aside and unzipped your pants, you were already wet, maybe from the twisted nature of it all.
“C'mon, kid, get to work.”
Homelander leaned in eagerly, lapping at your cunt with a desperate moan. He was sloppy, overeager, trying too hard to please. You threaded your fingers through his hair, guiding him with firm but detached control.
“Easy.” You murmured, voice cool. “You’re supposed to be a god, not a desperate whore. Slow down.”
He whimpered around you, trying to obey, tears already pricking the corners of his eyes. You watched him with that same slight, amused smile, the expression of a man who knew exactly how much power he held.
When you were bored of his inexperience, you pulled him off your pussy, he made a squeaky sound, like a dog being stepped on.
You thought he looked a lot like a puppy right now.
“On the couch.”
He scrambled up, lying obediently. You climbed on top of him, straddling his hips, and sank down onto his cock in one smooth motion.
Homelander gasped, hands flying to your thighs. “Fuck— Dad, you’re so—”
You froze for half a second.
“Dad? God, Vought really did a number on you...and be quiet.” You said, starting to ride him with slow, confident rolls of your hips. “You don’t speak unless I tell you to, don't want you blabbering nonsense.”
He nodded frantically, biting his lip to stay silent. His hands trembled on your thighs as you used him, riding him exactly how you wanted— deep, controlled, merciless in your detachment.
“Look at you.” You said softly, almost conversationally, as if commenting on the weather. “The most powerful man alive, whimpering under an old man who barely tolerates him. Pathetic.”
Homelander moaned brokenly, hips twitching up desperately. Tears slipped down his cheeks. “Please, I need you— I need this…”
You leaned down, gripping his jaw roughly. “I know you do. That’s why you’re here. Now be a good boy and shut up.”
You rode him harder, faster, chasing your own pleasure while he fell apart beneath you. He came first, with a loud, broken cry, filling you with hot pulses while sobbing your name.
You didn’t stop.
You kept riding him through his orgasm, overstimulating him until he was whimpering and shaking, fresh tears streaming down his face.
“Too much, dad, please— I can’t—”
“You can.” You said calmly, still moving. “And you will, son, until I’m satisfied.”
You made him cum twice more before you finally let yourself finish, clenching around him as you rode out your own orgasm with a quiet, controlled sigh and a low groan.
When it was over, Homelander was a wreck — tear-streaked, trembling, cock still buried deep inside you. He clung to you desperately, face pressed against your chest.
“Thank you.” He whispered, voice small and broken, boyish even. “Thank you for wanting me...even a little.”
You stroked his hair once, almost absentmindedly, still maintaining that cool, detached expression.
“Don’t get used to it, John.” You said quietly. “This was a one time mercy.”
But even as you said it, you knew it wasn’t true.
Homelander looked up at you with those wide, adoring, desperate blue eyes, and you felt the smallest flicker of something dangerously close to affection.
You sighed.
“Stay the night.” You said, still sounding bored. “But don’t make noise. I have an early meeting.”
He nodded eagerly, clinging tighter, already hardening again inside you.
