Mark Grayson has a terrible time finding a lover. Like any normal young adult, he gets on a dating app. Weeks pass and it's getting him nowhere! Until he comes across you.
🏷️ Tags!
Teeth rotting sweet fluff. Eventual soft?? sex. Body Worship. Mark worships the ground you walk on. Corny in some part i guess.. Mark and Reader are inexperienced and awkward. Dating Apps. Body insecurity. Mark is a chubby chaser. Reader has body issues. Little bit of hurt with a LOT of Comfort. All hurt is from past experience. Kissing. Touching. Appearance of eve and mark's past relationships. Reader and mark are both approx ~20. Camping. Hiking, Swimming. Mark is a pervert, but so are you. Public sex. Beach/Lake sex. Edging. Overstimulation. Clawing. Unprotected sex. Creampie. Aftercare. Cunnilingus. Masturbation (Mark). More tags to add..
A/N: The original post is my MOST popular post on here like ever 😭 jessuss.. Sorry if there are any mistakes i tried to get this out quicker than usual. Also this is THE LONGEST fanfic ive ever written. ENJOY!!
inside was small, just enough room for the two of you to lie down without touching too much space between.
Which was… noticeable.
You tried not to think about it.
Mark crouched at the entrance, ducking in after you.
The moment he was inside, the space felt even smaller.
He reached out and zipped the tent flap mostly shut, leaving a small gap for air and the faint glow of the fire still outside.
The world narrowed down to canvas walls, sleeping bags, and the distant sounds of the forest.
You sat on your sleeping bag, hugging your knees for a moment.
Mark settled across from you, then hesitated like he wasn’t entirely sure what the “correct” amount of space between you was.
Eventually, he chose “close, but respectful.”
You appreciated that more than you probably could’ve explained.
Outside, the fire cracked softly, smaller now.
Inside, everything felt quieter in a different way.
More personal.
You reached for your bag, pulling out a small flashlight, then set it down again without turning it on.
“Okay,” you said quietly. “This is actually kind of nice.”
Mark looked at you.
“Kind of?”
You smiled faintly. “Okay. Really nice.”
That earned you a softer expression from him. Not a grin this time. Just something calm.
Like he was holding onto the moment carefully.
You shifted slightly, adjusting your sleeping bag.
Your earlier thoughts drifted back in for a second, how he’d caught you, how easily he’d moved, how little effort it seemed to take.
You glanced at him again.
He was watching you already.
Of course he was.
You hesitated.
Then asked, quieter than before, “Are you always that… quick?”
Mark paused.
Just a fraction too long.
Then he shrugged a little, like it didn’t matter.
“Sometimes.”
You studied him in the low light.
There was something about the way he avoided making it a big deal.
Like he didn’t want it to be a thing you had to overthink.
But you were already overthinking it anyway.
Still..
You let it go.
For now.
Instead, you shifted onto your side, facing him a little more openly.
The space between you wasn’t gone.
But it felt less sharp than it had earlier.
Mark mirrored you after a moment, lying back slightly, one arm propped behind his head.
The silence returned.
Your eyes drifted half-closed before you realized how tired you actually were.
The hike. The fire. The talking. The thinking.
It all caught up at once.
“You okay?” Mark asked softly.
You hummed. “Yeah. Just tired.”
A pause.
Then, quieter, you added, “In a good way.”
That made something in his expression soften even more.
Like he liked hearing that.
Like it mattered to him.
Outside, the wind moved gently through the trees.
Inside, the tent held the warmth of both of you.
You shifted a little deeper into your sleeping bag, your voice drifting lower.
“I’m glad I did this.”
Mark turned his head slightly toward you.
“Me too.”
The answer came immediately.
No hesitation.
No second-guessing.
He was sure.
Your eyes lingered on him for a moment longer than you meant to.
Then you exhaled slowly and let your body relax fully into the ground beneath you.
The last thing you really noticed before sleep started to pull at you was the quiet way Mark stayed still.
Like he didn’t want to disturb the moment.
Like he was careful not to ruin something he already knew he didn’t want to lose. He wasn’t lying to you about his identity, he was simply protecting you.
However, sleep hovered just out of reach.
Not because the tent was uncomfortable.
Not because the forest outside was unfamiliar.
But because your thoughts kept circling the same soft, persistent disbelief, like your mind didn’t quite trust how gentle everything had been all night.
Mark stayed quiet across from you.
Still.
Present.
You shifted slightly in your sleeping bag, trying to settle deeper into it, pulling the fabric up around your shoulders like it might help anchor you back into rest.
It didn’t.
A small rustle came from Mark’s side of the tent.
Then he moved.
Just a quiet adjustment in the dark.
The sleeping bag beside you shifted closer. Barely noticeable at first.
Then his arm slid out, slow and careful, like he was checking for hesitation without asking for it out loud.
And then, gently..
He pulled you in.
No words.
No explanation.
Just a solid, careful tug until you were tucked against his chest.
You went easily, your body recognizing the offer before your mind could fully process it. The sleeping bags rustled softly as they tangled together, bridging the small gap that had felt too wide a moment ago. His arm wrapped around your shoulders, heavy and warm, anchoring you in place.
And slowly, without you making any conscious decision about it, your body stopped resisting rest. Your breathing evened out. Your shoulders dropped.
The world narrowed until there was only warmth behind you, steady and calm, and the quiet sound of him breathing somewhere just above your ear.
For once, sleep didn’t feel like falling.
It felt like being held there long enough that you could finally let go.
-🍑-
The night stretched on…
The fire outside died down to embers.
The forest settled deeper into its rhythm.
And inside the tent, Mark didn't move.
Not once.
He stayed exactly like that, muscled arm anchored around you, breathing steady and slow, as if you were a prized possession.
guarding you.
A small smile crept onto your expression.
Your breathing shifted.
Even.
-🍑-
Morning came softly.
No sudden light, no sharp wake-up—just the slow brightening of the tent fabric and the distant sound of birds pulling the world back into motion.
At some point during the night, you must’ve fully fallen asleep, because when you blinked awake, everything felt different.
Quieter in your body.
Heavier in a good way.
Warm.
Mark was already moving outside the tent, the faint sound of the zipper sliding open and soft footsteps on grass pulling you the rest of the way into consciousness.
You sat up slowly, rubbing your eyes.
The memory of the night before wasn’t a dream.
It sat there, steady and real in the back of your mind, like something you didn’t need to question anymore.
Outside, the air was crisp and sunlit, the forest glowing in early gold.
Mark was crouched near the fire pit, messing with something that looked like it might become breakfast but was currently still in the “hopeful” stage. You could smell it. It was something with sausage.
When he looked up and saw you, his expression softened immediately. His dark brown eyes studying you made your face heat up.
That same look.
The one that always found you a second too gently.
You felt your chest tighten in response before you could even stop it.
“Morning,” he said.
You nodded, trying to act normal, even though your brain was still half wrapped in warmth and sleep and him. You wiped the drool off your jaw. You hadn’t slept that good in a while.
“Morning.”
Neither of you were in a hurry to break whatever softness had carried over from the night.
After eating, you packed up in a quiet rhythm together.
The tent came down easier than it went up, which you appreciated more than you expected.
Backpacks were slung on.
The campsite slowly disappeared behind you.
And without really planning it, you both drifted toward the lake again.
-🍑-
It was brighter now.
The water reflecting a clean, shimmering blue under the morning sun, ripples catching light like scattered glass.
You slowed at the edge of the shore.
Mark did too.
Neither of you said anything at first.
You just stood there, taking it in.
Then, almost without thinking, you set your bag down.
“…We’re swimming,” you decided.
Mark glanced at you. “We are?”
You were already untying your shoes. “We are.” He quickly followed suit.
That earned a quiet laugh from him.
The lake had a somewhat of a steep drop off. If you decided to get into the water, you had to be fully committed.
When folding your clothes neatly next to your bag, you heard a splash behind you.
You stood at the edge for a second longer than you meant to.
Mostly because Mark was already there.
And you were suddenly, unfairly aware of that fact.
He straightened when he noticed you, brushing a hand through his hair, a little damp from the humidity already rising.
For a second, neither of you said anything.
It was..somewhat awkward.
Mark’s gaze flicked over you, then stopped, just briefly, just enough to make something in your chest jump.
Not in a way that felt judged.
In a way that felt like he was trying not to look like he was staring.
And failing a little. A lot.
You were wearing your swimwear, the kind you’d picked and second-guessed at least five times before leaving camp. Not because it was wrong, just because you were you, and your brain always had opinions. You attempted to self-soothe.
Plenty of girls wear skimpy bikinis… it’s okay.
He averted his gaze quickly.
But not before you saw that look.
The one that made your brain stutter for a second.
You stayed on the shore a little longer.
Digging your toes into the sand.
Tugging at the straps of your bikini top.
He was in swim trunks, simple, practical, still somehow making the whole “standing by a lake in the morning sun” thing look like it fit him too easily.
It almost made you jealous.
Broad shoulders relaxed. Arms loose at his sides. No tension anywhere, like he wasn’t even thinking about being looked at.
Maybe because he was looking back.
He was too busy looking at you to worry about himself.
Like he’d decided there wasn’t anything about you he needed to look away from.
You swallowed slightly.
Your fingers fiddled with the hem of your towel for half a second before you forced yourself to stop.
You shook your head slightly, closing your eyes. You were building up courage.
Mark shifted a little closer bank, then paused like he was waiting, like entering the lake further was something you did together, not separately.
That did something to you.
Something quiet.
Something that made your chest feel a little too full.
You stepped closer too.
The sand under your feet was warm, soft, slightly uneven.
The cold lake lapped gently at the shoreline.
The water was barely at his ankles when he turned back to you.
Waiting.
Patient.
Like he wasn’t even aware of how that made your pulse jump.
You hesitated at the edge.
The water looked freezing. Why isn’t he more affected? Is he just trying to be nonchalant?
Mark glanced at you again.
His expression still soft, but there was something else.
Like whatever he saw, he liked it.
You felt your face heat slightly, and you hated how quickly it happened.
He noticed.
Of course he did.
It irritated you how perceptive he is.
He didn't say anything.
He didn't point it out.
Didn't tease, his eyes and knowing smiling were enough, acknowledging your flush without making it a thing.
Which somehow made it worse.
And infinitely better.
You swallowed.
“Come on in. It isn’t that bad.” His voice assuring.
Then, before your brain could overthink, you stepped into the water.
Immediate, shocking cold hitting your ankles.
“Oh my god!”
He walked to you. His hands landing on your forearm and shoulder. His touch was still innocent…respectful.
His gaze however?
You could feel he eyes darting all over you.
You naturally understood that. You wouldn’t have picked out this itty bitty bikini if you didn’t want him to. If You were being honest, you were also checking him out shamelessly.
He of course had shirtless photos of himself on his profile. However, seeing it in person was even better.
His swim trunks sat low on his hips, giving a salacious view of his v-line. How slutty of him you thought.
You watched him watch you.
Two people circling the same realization, not quite admitting it out loud.
Mark had been slowly guiding you deeper. The water was up to your thighs now.
He turned slightly as he waded deeper, sunlight catching the low dip of his trunks, the sharp cut of his hips. His hand on your wrist.
That V-line. Scratch that, everything.
Normally, the second you realized you were looking too long, you'd snap your gaze away. Pretend you hadn't been looking at all.
But there was something unfair about Mark Grayson.
The sunlight caught against damp skin and dark hair, turning the edges of him gold. The lake water curled around his waist as he moved deeper, completely unaware,or maybe completely aware, of the effect he was having on you.
Your stomach flipped.
Hard.
Mark glanced over his shoulder.
And immediately caught you looking.
For one horrible second, your brain screamed at you to look away.
You didn't.
Neither did he.
The smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth wasn’t smug.
Wasn't teasing.
It was softer than that.
Warmer.
Like he was secretly delighted.
Like he couldn't believe you were looking at him that way.
Which was ridiculous.
Because he was Mark.
And you were..
Well.
You.
The thought tried to creep in.
It didn't get very far.
Not when Mark's eyes drifted over you with the exact same expression.
Not when his gaze lingered.
Not when he looked just as caught as you felt.
The realization struck you suddenly.
He was staring too.
Maybe he had been all morning.
Maybe he'd been doing it since yesterday.
The knowledge sent warmth rushing through your chest.
The water shifted around your legs as you stepped a little deeper.
Mark stopped moving.
Waiting.
Again.
You were beginning to notice he did that a lot.
Like he never wanted to leave you behind.
The lake reached your waist now, cool and clear.
Mark stood only a few feet away.
Close enough that you could see the tiny details.
The way sunlight reflected in his eyes.
The faint pink at the tips of his ears.
The way his attention seemed completely fixed on you.
Not the lake.
Not the scenery.
You.
Your heart stumbled.
Because nobody had ever looked at you like that before.
Not really. Not with that much certainty. Not with that much affection.
Like he wasn't searching for flaws. Like he wasn't comparing you to anyone else. Like he simply liked what he saw.
A lot.
The thought made your face warm.
Mark noticed immediately.
His smile widened slightly.
God.
You were in trouble.
The kind of trouble that came from liking someone too much.
The kind that came from realizing they might like you just as much.
The water rippled gently between you.
Neither of you seemed interested in creating more distance.
If anything, the opposite.
One step.
Then another.
Small enough to be accidental.
Except neither of you were fooling anyone.
Soon there was barely any space left between you at all.
Close enough that your pulse was impossible to ignore. Close enough that every glance felt heavier than the last.
Mark's expression softened.
His eyes flicked briefly to your face.
Then your eyes.
Then back again.
Like he was memorizing you.
The moment stretched.
Quiet.
Tender.
The entire lake around you seemed to disappear.
Leaving only sunlight.
Water.
The sounds of the local floral and fauna.
And the impossible feeling of being wanted by someone who looked at you like you'd hung the moon.
The water lapped softly around your waists, cool against skin that suddenly felt far too warm.
Neither of you seemed interested in moving away.
You looked up at him.
A mistake.
A terrible, wonderful mistake.
Because Mark was already looking down at you. Like he always was.
The look in his eyes made your heart stumble over itself.
For a moment, neither of you spoke.
The silence between you two was louder than the water you.
Everything narrowed until there was only this.
Only him.
And you.
You watched his throat bob as he swallowed.
His gaze flicked briefly to your lips.
Then back to your eyes.
Like he was asking a question without saying a word.
Your breath caught.
Mark took a small step forward.
The movement sent a ripple through the water between you.
You didn't step back.
You couldn't.
Not when every part of you wanted to be closer.
His hand lifted slowly, giving you every opportunity to pull away.
Instead, his fingertips brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.
The touch was impossibly gentle.
The kind of touch that made your chest ache.
You'd expected confidence from someone who looked like Mark.
Expected charm.
Expected smooth lines and practiced flirting.
Instead, he looked almost nervous.
Like this mattered to him.
Like you mattered to him.
The realization hit harder than it should have.
His hand lingered briefly against your cheek.
Warm.
Steady.
You leaned into it before you could stop yourself.
The smallest movement.
But Mark noticed.
His expression softened immediately.
And something about that look, something open and earnest and so very Mark, finally broke the last of your hesitation.
A smile tugged at his mouth.
You felt one answering it before you even realized you were smiling back.
The distance between you disappeared another inch.
Then another.
Your pulse hammered.
Mark's gaze searched yours one last time.
Making sure.
Waiting.
“Can I kiss you?”
You nodded quickly.
When he finally leaned in, it was slow enough that you could've stopped it.
You didn't.
His lips met yours softly.
His hand cupped your jaw and cheek.
You placed your hands on his chest.
The kiss was tentative at first.
Almost careful.
Like he was afraid of rushing something precious.
The kiss lasted only a moment.
Just enough to leave your head spinning.
When he pulled back, neither of you moved very far.
Your foreheads touched, leaning against each other.
You could see the surprise on his face.
The same surprise you felt.
As though the reality somehow exceeded whatever he'd imagined.
A quiet laugh escaped him.
Disbelieving.
Happy.
His thumb brushed lightly across your cheek.
“Was that okay?”
“Yes..”
And for a second, Mark looked completely smitten.
Not cool.
Not smooth.
Not like the other men who chewed you up and spat you out.
Just utterly, hopelessly gone for you.
You had spent so long wondering how someone like him could want someone like you.
Meanwhile, Mark was looking at you like he'd just gotten everything he'd been hoping for.
The kiss left both of you a little breathless.
Not because it was intense.
Because it was real.
Because after an entire day of stolen glances and lingering touches and feelings neither of you seemed capable of hiding anymore, it had finally happened.
When you opened your eyes, Mark was still close.
So close.
His forehead brushed yours as he smiled.
And the look on his face nearly did you in.
He looked happy.
The kind that made him look younger somehow.
You felt yourself smiling back before you even realized it.
"Hi," you murmured.
Blush spread across your face.
This felt like those cheesy romcoms. You were finally living the life of the female lead.
A quiet laugh escaped him.
"Hey."
Neither of you moved away.
Neither of you seemed particularly interested in doing so.
The lake drifted around you in gentle ripples, sunlight dancing across the water between your bodies.
Mark's hands settled carefully at your waist. They were large. They’d occasionally softly squeeze.
Like he was still making sure you were really there.
His gaze flicked over your face again.
Noticing every little thing.
The way your cheeks were flushed.
The smile you were trying and failing to hide.
The way you kept looking at him like you couldn't quite believe this was happening.
Honestly, you couldn't.
For a moment, neither of you said anything.
Then Mark smiled slightly.
"You know," he said quietly, "I've wanted to do that since yesterday."
Your heart nearly stopped.
"Yesterday?"
His ears turned pink.
Immediately.
You stared.
A laugh escaped you.
Mark looked horrified for exactly two seconds before he started laughing too.And somehow that made everything feel even better.
His hands tightened slightly at your waist.
Instinctive.
Protective.
Like you were something he’d lose.
Then suddenly
The water shifted.
Your balance slipped slightly.
Not enough to fall.
In fact, you were being.. lifted?
Before you could even correct yourself, his arms wrapped around you.
And then,
You were no longer standing.
Your eyes widened.
"Mark-"
You instinctually wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist.
His hands were on the bottom of your thighs.
A startled noise escaped you as he effortlessly lifted you off your feet.
The movement was so smooth you barely had time to process it.
One second you were standing in the lake.
The next you were securely in his arms.
But something sour swirled within your brain and belly.
You stared at him.
Then stared some more.
"...What?"
Mark blinked.
"What?" he repeated.
"Put me down."
He looked confused.
Not guilty.
Confused.
Like he genuinely didn't understand the issue.
"Why?"
"Mark.”
You could feel your face burning.
He still wasn't putting you down.
Not because he was refusing.
Because he genuinely seemed completely comfortable holding you there.
Like it wasn't remotely difficult.
Like he hadn't even thought about it.
And that was exactly what confused you.
Your voice came out quieter.
"Am I not heavy?"
A small frown crossed his face.
Then understanding dawned.
"No.”
The expression that followed was so sincere it almost hurt.
He looked at you like the answer was obvious.
Like it wasn't even a question worth asking.
You felt your chest tighten.
Because there was no strain in his arms.
No adjustment.
No sign that he was struggling.
He was just holding you.
Comfortably.
Happily.
Like it was the most natural thing in the world.
And for some reason that hit harder than all the compliments ever could. You could cry.
Mark smiled softly.
His gaze never leaving yours.
You looked away first.
Unable to handle the affection in it.
A quiet laugh escaped him.
Not mocking.
Fond. So incredibly fond.
The lake shimmered around you.
The sunlight warmed your skin.
And for the first time in a very long time, being looked at didn't make you want to disappear.
Not when Mark was looking at you like that.
Not when he held you like there was nowhere else he'd rather be.
Mark looked at you like he was still trying to believe you were real.
Like something about you had shifted inside him and now he couldn’t quite put it back the way it was before.
His hands stayed on your thighs, steady even with you in his arms, and his gaze moved over your face with this soft, almost reverent focus that made your throat go tight.
Then he leaned in again.
This kiss was different.
Slower.
Deeper.
Less like a question and more like a promise he was finally brave enough to make.
You melted into it without meaning to, your hands finding his shoulders as the water moved gently around both of you. Mark held you like he had all the time in the world, like there was nowhere else he needed to be.
When he pulled back, it was only by a fraction.
His forehead rested against yours.
You could feel the warmth of his breath, the way his thumb brushed small circles into your thighs like he was soothing something he didn’t want to name.
He kissed your forehead.
Then your cheek.
His eyes stayed on yours.
Then, softly, almost like he was admitting something to himself, he said, “You’re so beautiful.”
The words went straight through you.
Your chest tightened.
You tried to look away, but he caught your face gently, guiding your attention back to him like he wanted you to hear every part of it.
He moved his face into your neck. His breath tickling your skin.
“When I first saw you, you took the air from my chest” he murmured, voice low and certain. “You’re beautiful.”
Your heart was beating faster than it ever had. It was almost hard to breathe.
The way he said it made it sound less like a compliment and more like a fact.
His mouth brushed your cheek, then your temple, then the corner of your jaw in a trail of soft kisses that made you feel completely, helplessly seen.
Seen.
-🍑-
Mark’s arms tightened around you just a little, secure and warm. They moved to your ass
Your head was spinning
“I don’t think you understand how pretty you are,” he said quietly, kissing you again, slower this time. “It’s kind of messing with my brain.”
A shaky laugh left you, but it sounded breathless even to your own ears.
Mark smiled against your skin, then kissed you once more, like he couldn’t resist.
When he finally drew back enough to look at you, his expression was almost shy despite the certainty in his eyes.
“Yeah,” he said, like he was talking to himself as much as you. “Really beautiful. All of you.”
And the way he looked at you while saying it made it impossible to doubt that he meant every word.
For a moment, all you could do was stare at him.
The lake, the trees, the sunlight dancing across the water,it all seemed to blur around the edges.
Because Mark was looking at you like you were the only thing in focus.
You'd spent years learning how to deflect compliments.
How to laugh them off.
How to find the catch hidden somewhere inside them.
But there wasn't one here.
Just Mark.
Just that stubborn sincerity that seemed woven into everything he did.
Your fingers curled slightly against his shoulders."You keep saying that," you said softly.
His thumbs stilled against your sides.
Not pulling away.
Just pausing.
Like he was considering whether or not he should explain himself.
"Because it's true," he said simply.
Like that was enough.
Like he wasn't just saying what everyone says.
Like he wasn't just being polite.
Your mind kept hunting for the catch anyway.
He seemed so sincere, but your mind wouldn’t let you put your walls down.
“This isn’t some fuckboy ploy?” You raise a suspicious brow. You leaned away from him, to see his face. His body language. What he really thought. Your fingers loosely interlocked behind him. Negative thoughts and feelings swirled within you.
His expression turned serious, almost hurt. “No,” he said firmly, his hands moving to grip your hips gently but steadily.
“I’m not fucking around here.” He leaned in closer, his forehead almost touching yours.
“I mean it when I say you’re beautiful. Every time I say it.”
Your eyes widened at him. The whole date he’d been soft. This was the first time he had raised his voice even slightly. It wasn’t to hurt you. Instead, it was to reassure you. It made you feel full.
warm.
But something else as well. His expression was stern. He wasn’t lying to you. “Oh mark.. I-“
His stern expression softened the second he heard the crack in your voice.
The intensity didn't leave his eyes,if anything, it deepened,but the sharpness melted away into something devastatingly gentle.
His thumbs rubbed reassuring circles against your hips.
"Don’t," he murmured, his voice dropping back down to that soft, steady register that seemed to vibrate right through your chest.
“okay,” You said simply.
Something sick inside you kind of liked the serious mark. How his eyes seemed to get darker. His voice got huskier than usual. Your hands intertwined with his hair. You felt something hot stirr within your lower belly.
Mark’s expression changed at that one word.
Not in a big way. Not enough for anyone else to notice, maybe. But you did. You saw the way his eyes stayed fixed on you a second longer, darker now, more intent. You felt the subtle shift in his posture, the way his hand at your waist tightened just a little, like he was making sure you stayed right there with him.
And you liked it.
A little too much.
The realization sent a warm, dizzy feeling through you, low and secret and entirely unfair. Your fingers slid into his hair without thinking, and the moment you did, his breath caught.
Just once.
Barely there.
But enough.
Mark looked at you like he was trying to decide whether to keep being careful or stop pretending he wasn’t affected. His voice, when he finally spoke, had dropped into something rougher than before.
“You do that,” he murmured.
You tilted your head slightly. “Do what?”
His eyes flicked to your hand in his hair.
“That.”
The word came out quiet, almost strained.
A tiny smile touched your mouth, slow and knowing. You could feel the heat building between you again, different now than before. Sharper. More charged. Like the space around you had become its own kind of current.
Mark leaned in just enough for you to feel the warmth of him before he even touched you.
“Careful,” he said, He wasn’t so much warning you more than promising you.
And that, more than anything, made your stomach flip.
Because this version of Mark,steady, serious, all dark eyes and hushed voice, felt like something you wanted to keep discovering.
It was dangerous how much you liked this version of him.
The sweet, sunshine Mark was easy to fall in love with. But this version,the one with darker eyes, a rougher voice, and absolute sincerity,was doing something wicked to your nervous system. It felt grounding. Protective. incredibly attractive.
Your fingers continued to stroke through his hair, slow and deliberate, watching his eyelashes flutter.
-🍑-
The water didn’t feel cold anymore.
Not really.
Not when Mark was looking at you like that.
Like he’d finally stopped holding anything back.
Your fingers stayed tangled in his hair for a second longer than necessary, and when you didn’t move away, something in his expression shifted again—subtle, but unmistakable. Like you’d just given him permission without saying a word.
And he took it seriously.
His grip on your ass tighted. His fingers digging into your skin ever so slightly. He leaned in again, pressing another kiss to you, rougher, Sloppy. But more certain.
Your thoughts scattered.
That version of him, the quieter, steadier, more intense Mark, hit something in you you didn’t entirely understand yet. It overwhelming.
You wanted to see how far that calm confidence could go.
He pulled back just enough to look at you, and the corner of his mouth twitched like he’d noticed the way your breathing had changed.
His thumb traced a slow line along your inner thigh, just barely touching, sending sparks through your entire body.
Your mouth opened slightly.
"Mark," you breathed.
The way you said his name made him hiss through his teeth.
His eyes darkened, that serious expression returning,but this time it was charged with something far from innocent. Like he was holding onto something tightly.
You didn’t look away.
Neither did he.
For a moment, everything else disappeared again, the lake, the trees, the open sky.
Just the two of you in water that suddenly felt too shallow to contain what was happening.
Then Mark shifted.
“C’mon,” he said quietly.
You blinked. “Where-”
He didn’t answer with words.
Instead, he turned slightly and started walking you both toward the shore, both hands still squeezing the fat of your ass.
-🍑-
He set you down ontop of your towel.
The moment your feet hit the ground again, the air felt warmer against your skin, sunlight sharper now that you were out of the water’s cool haze.
Then, He was on you again.
He was kissing you again.
The moment your back hit the fabric, he followed you down without hesitation, bracing himself just above you, one hand still cupping your jaw like he couldn’t quite bring himself to let go.
The kiss didn’t break.
Like neither of you were in any rush to pull away.
Your fingers found his again,steady in his hair, pulling him closer without thinking.
And Mark responded immediately, like he’d been waiting for exactly that.
Like he was just as caught up in you as you were in him.
This wasn't the sweet, slow kissing you’d shared earlier.
This was Mark with his filter completely gone.
His mouth moved against yours with absolute intent, tongue sliding in hot and messy, swallowing your soft noise immediately. His hands weren't gentle anymore,they were firm, squeezing your hips, gripping your ass, grounding you.
It was overwhelming.
It was serious.
The sweetness from earlier was still there, somewhere underneath it all, but it wasn’t leading anymore.
Now it was something heavier.
More urgent.
More real.
Your breath caught against his mouth, and Mark responded instantly, like that sound alone pulled something loose in him. His grip tightened at your ass not rough, but unmistakably firm now, anchoring you to him like he didn’t trust himself not to drift.
Like he didn’t trust the space between you at all anymore.
You felt it then.
That version of him you’d noticed in the water.
The one that didn’t hesitate.
Didn’t second-guess.
Didn’t pull back.
And instead of scaring you, it made your stomach flip in a way you didn’t want to analyze too closely.
Mark finally broke the kiss just enough to breathe, but he didn’t move away.
His forehead hovered near yours, both of you breathing the same air now, close enough that everything felt shared, heat, silence, heartbeat.
His eyes searched your face like he was checking something.
Waiting.
Then, he leaned in again without warning, kissing you even slower this time, like he wanted you to really feel it, but with even more intensity. His hand slid up your side slowly, almost lazily, until his fingers brushed the side of your rib. You gasped into his mouth, arching slightly.
And instead of scaring you, it made your stomach flip in a way you didn’t want to analyze too closely.
Mark finally broke the kiss just enough to breathe, but he didn’t move away.
His forehead hovered near yours, both of you breathing the same air now, close enough that everything felt shared, heat, silence, heartbeat.
His eyes searched your face like he was checking something.
Waiting.
You didn’t look away.
Didn’t ask him to stop.
If anything, your hand in his hair tightened slightly, pulling him closer again in a way that answered him more clearly than words could.
Something in his expression shifted at that.
Softened.
But didn’t lose its intensity.
It just… steadied.
Like he’d made a decision.
He lowered his head, pressing his lips to the corner of your mouth, then your jaw, then the sensitive spot just below your ear. Each kiss felt deliberate, slow, lingering, and absolutely sure.
"You okay?" he murmured against your skin.
His voice was lower than you’d ever heard it, vibrating straight through your chest.
Mark exhaled slowly, his voice low when it finally came.
“Tell me if I need to slow down.”
Not unsure.
Just… giving you the space anyway.
His thumb brushed your cheek again, gentler now, but he still didn’t move away.
Still hovered there, close enough that everything between you felt like a choice you were both making on purpose.
And the way he looked at you, like you were something he didn’t want to rush through, even like this, made your chest tighten in a completely different way than before.
Because it wasn’t just heat.
It was care, too.
Mixed in so tightly you couldn’t separate them anymore.
And Mark Grayson, hovering over you on a sun-warmed beach, looked like he was very aware of exactly how much he wanted you… and just as determined not to turn it into something you didn’t want too.
His hand slid down from your cheek to your shoulder, fingers tracing along the curve until they reached your collarbone. He pressed a light kiss to the skin there, slow and deliberate.
“No this is fine. I want this.” You breathed out.
"Tell me what you want," he whispered against your skin, his breath warm.
The water droplets still clinging to his hair dripped onto your neck, mingling with the heat radiating off his body.
Your fingers gripped the solid, damp muscle of his shoulders, your nails digging in just slightly as a soft gasp escaped your lips. The contrast was intoxicating: the cool, lingering dampness of the lake air against the searing heat of his chest pressing into yours.
Mark’s eyes darkened, the brown turning into something deep and woodsy, reflecting a hunger that was far from innocent. He didn't pull away; instead, he leaned in closer, his body molding against yours, making you acutely aware of every inch of contact. The softness of your curves met the unyielding strength of his frame, a friction that sent a jolt of pure electricity straight to your core.
"I want you to stop thinking," he murmured, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin just below your ear, sending a violent tremor through your limbs. "Stop worrying about the past, or the me, or anything else. Just feel this."
He shifted, his hand moving from your collarbone to the small of your back, his palm wide and warm as he pulled you flush against him. The sensation of his skin sliding against yours slick from the lake and heated by desire was almost overwhelming. He trailed a path of slow, bruising kisses from your neck up to the corner of your mouth, his breathing becoming heavy, ragged, and desperate.
"I've spent so much time looking for something real," he confessed, his voice a low, desperate growl against your lips. "And now that I have you... I don't think I can let go."
He didn't wait for an answer. He closed the distance, his mouth crashing onto yours in a kiss that was less of a question and more of a claim, tasting of lake water and pure, unadulterated want.
The kiss was deep and hungry, a frantic collision of teeth and tongues that left you breathless. Mark’s hands weren't gentle anymore; they were roaming, mapping the soft, generous curves of your hips and waist with a feverish intensity. He pulled you so tight against him that you could feel the hard, rhythmic thud of his heart against your own, a drumbeat of pure desire.
He broke the kiss just long enough to bury his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply as if he were trying to memorize your scent. "You're so beautiful," he groaned, the words muffled against your skin. "God, you're so fucking beautiful."
The raw honesty in his voice, stripped of any hesitation, made your heart race. You felt the weight of his body, now entirely focused on the way your skin felt under his touch.
As his hands slid lower, pulling your body even more firmly into the heat of his, the cool breeze of the woods was forgotten, replaced entirely by the heavy, intoxicating scent of pine, lake water, and the unmistakable musk of arousal.
He pulled back just an inch, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes searching yours with a desperate, burning intensity. "Tell me," he breathed, his thumb tracing the swell of your bottom lip, "tell me you want me to stay right here. Tell me you want this as much as I do."
Your breath hitched, the sound caught in your throat as his thumb grazed your lip. The world felt small, narrowed down to the heat of his skin and the desperate, heavy weight of his gaze. You didn't want to be careful anymore. You didn't want to be polite or composed. You wanted to feel every bit of his strength.
You reached up, your fingers tangling in his damp hair to pull him back down to you, closing the agonizing gap between your lips. "More than anything," you whispered, your voice trembling but certain, a soft, breathless confession that cut through the quiet of the woods. "I want you, Mark. I want you right here, now.”
A broken sound escaped his throat, something between a groan and a sigh of relief, like he’d been holding his breath waiting for you to say exactly that. The last thread of his restraint snapped.
"You have me," he whispered against your mouth, the words fierce and absolute. "I’m yours..."
Then he stopped holding back.
-🍑-
Before the heat could become overwhelming, Mark slowed everything down. He seemed to want to savor the anticipation, as if the tension itself was a gift he didn't want to unwrap too quickly. He hovered over you, his weight supported by his arms, his eyes tracing the lines of your face with a look of profound, quiet wonder.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered again, the words a soft, breathless vow.
His hands moved to the straps of your bikini, his touch so light it was almost a tease. He didn't just pull it off; he lifted the fabric inch by inch, his lips following the movement. He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the skin of your stomach as the top slid upward, then another to the swell of your breasts as the fabric cleared them. Each kiss was a silent tribute, a way of telling you how much he adored the soft, gorgeous curves of your body.
A soft gasp escaped you, your fingers curling into the sand beneath you as his lips traced the path his hands had already carved. Each kiss was so deliberate, so reverent, that your chest tightened in a way that wasn't just heat. It was awe, that this man, this quiet, serious, steady Mark, was looking at you like you were something sacred.
As your bikini top was cast aside, he didn't move on immediately. Instead, he stayed there, his gaze roaming over you with a reverence that made you feel like a masterpiece. He traced the line of your ribs with his fingertips, his touch as light as a feather, before leaning down to press a warm, slow kiss to the center of your chest, right over your racing heart.
"Every inch of you," he murmured against your skin, his breath a warm caress. "Every single part."
He moved to your waist next, his fingers working the fastening of your bottoms with a gentle, unhurried patience. He took his time, his eyes locked onto yours, making sure you felt the weight of his gaze as much as the warmth of his hands. As he slowly eased the fabric down your hips, he leaned in to kiss the curve of your hip, his lips lingering there, tasting the salt and sweetness of your skin.
He treated the act of undressing you like a sacred ceremony. There was no rush, no clumsy tugging only the slow, rhythmic dance of his hands.
The fabric slid away, leaving you bare to the sun-warmed air and the intensity of his gaze. Mark didn't immediately surge forward to cover you again; he paused, taking a moment to simply look, his eyes sweeping over the soft, generous curves of your body with a heavy, appreciative silence. It wasn't a clinical inspection,it was worship.
"You're perfect,"
He kissed the soft skin of your thighs, the dip of your waist, and the swell of your hips, worshipping the body he had been dreaming of since the moment he saw you on that screen.
By the time you were both bare beneath the starlight, the air between you was thick with a sweetness so potent it felt tangible. He looked at you then, truly looked at you, with a gaze so full of devotion and pure, unadulterated love that it felt more intimate than the touch itself. He wasn't just looking at a girl he liked; he was looking at his entire world.
He leaned down, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was slow, deep, and filled with a quiet promise.
The air in the small clearing felt heavy, charged with a sweetness that was almost dizzying. Mark didn't just move toward you; he descended, his body a slow, deliberate journey of devotion. He began at your neck, his lips pressing soft, fluttering kisses against your skin, moving lower to the swell of your breasts, then down the soft, inviting curve of your stomach.
He was teasing you. He was prolonging the anticipation until your skin felt too sensitive to bear, until every brush of his lips felt like a spark of electricity. He would kiss a patch of skin, linger there until you let out a shaky breath, and then move just an inch further, always keeping you on the edge of wanting more.
"Do you feel that?" he whispered, his voice a low, vibrating hum against your skin as he moved past your navel. "How much I want to taste you? How much you're driving me crazy?"
His hands were never still. One hand would slide up to cup your breast, his thumb grazing the peak with a gentle, rhythmic pressure, while the other would roam lower, his palm flat against your thigh, his fingers tracing the soft, inner curve of your leg. The contrast of his large, strong hands against your soft skin made you feel incredibly cherished, as if he were trying to encompass all of you.
-🍑-
When his head finally dipped between your thighs, you let out a long, trembling moan, your hips instinctively arching upward. But he didn't go straight for what you wanted. He teased you first, his breath hot and humid against your most sensitive skin, making you quiver with a desperate, aching need. He used the tip of his nose to nuzzle you, his lips grazing the outer folds with a lightness that was almost maddening.
"Just relax for me," he murmured, his voice muffled but clear, sounding so close you could feel the vibration of it. "Just feel me. There's no rush. We have all night."
Then, he finally gave you what you were starving for.
The first touch of his tongue was slow, a long, wet stroke from the bottom to the top that made your entire body seize. You cried out, your fingers tangling desperately in his hair, pulling him closer even as the sensation threatened to overwhelm you. He was so incredibly thorough. He didn't just lick; he worshipped. He used his tongue with a rhythmic, swirling precision, circling your clitoris with a tenderness that felt like a prayer.
He was patient. He would slow down when he felt you getting too close, pulling back to kiss the inside of your thighs or to look up at you with those dark, adoring eyes, only to dive back in with a sudden, deep pressure that made your vision blur.
"That's it," he encouraged, his voice a dark, honeyed rasp as he felt you begin to tremble. "Give it to me. Let it go. You're doing so good, baby. Just let it happen."
The teasing, agonizing lightness of his lips was replaced by the slow, deliberate press of his tongue, a broad, warm stroke that started at the bottom and swept upwards with a reverence that made your back arch off the ground. He did it again, a little slower this time, his hands gripping your thighs to hold you still when your body tried to buck against him. "Easy,"
He was completely unhurried, taking his time to explore every inch of your most sensitive flesh with a patience that felt almost cruel in its deliberation. His hands moved back to your hips, holding you steady as your legs trembled and your breathing became erratic, your hips involuntarily bucking against his mouth despite his efforts to keep you still.
His hands were everywhere one hand was anchored firmly on your hip, holding you steady, while the other wandered up to your chest, his fingers playing with your nipple in perfect synchronization with the movement of his tongue. The dual sensation was too much; it was a beautiful, crushing weight of pleasure.
You felt yourself fraying, the tension in your core building into a tight, pulsing knot. Your breath came in short, jagged gasps, and your head tossed from side to side on the pillow. "Mark... Mark, please!" you sobbed, the words a desperate plea for release.
"I've got you," he promised, his voice a steady anchor in the storm of your pleasure. He increased the pace, his tongue becoming more insistent, more rhythmic, his suction more deliberate. He was focused entirely on you, his entire world narrowed down to the taste of you and the sound of your voice.
He slowed down just as you reached the edge, pulling back until you were nothing but raw, aching need, before diving back in with a hard, open suck that made you scream into the empty room. He was tormenting you. He knew exactly where you were on that brink, and he kept you right there, pulsing, clenching, desperate, without letting you break.
As the first wave of your orgasm hit, it wasn't a sharp explosion, but a slow, rolling tide of heat that started deep in your belly and radiated outward to your very fingertips. You cried out his name, your body shaking with the force of it, and he didn't pull away. He stayed right there, holding you through the tremors, his tongue continuing its steady, rhythmic work to milk every last drop of sensation from you, ensuring you felt every single second of the release.
When he finally pulled back, he didn't move far. He crawled up your body, his skin slick and warm against yours, and collapsed into your arms, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He was breathing just as hard as you were, his heart thudding a frantic, happy rhythm against your chest.
"God," he breathed, a soft, exhausted laugh escaping him. "You are everything."
The heavy, sweet scent of your release hung in the air between you, a testament to the intensity of the moment. He stayed there for a long time, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing slowly evening out as the frantic heat of the moment transitioned into a warm, glowing afterglow. He looked at you with a gaze so soft, so utterly unguarded, that it felt like he was letting you see the very core of his soul.
"You okay?" he whispered, his voice a tender caress as he reached up to brush a stray, damp lock of hair away from your forehead. His fingers lingered there, tracing the line of your brow with a reverence that made your heart ache.
"More than okay," you breathed, your voice still a little shaky, your body feeling heavy and delightfully limp beneath him. You reached out, your hands finding his waist, pulling him just a little bit closer, needing to feel the solid, comforting reality of him.
A small, lopsided smile tugged at the corners of his mouth that boyish, sweet smile that had made you fall for him in the first place. "Good," he murmured, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss to your temple. "Because I'm not done with you yet. Not even close."
-🍑-
He shifted slightly, his weight settling more comfortably between your thighs, but there was no rush now, no frantic hunger. Instead, there was a profound sense of connection, a quiet understanding that this was only the beginning of something much deeper. As he began to move again, his touch was slow and deliberate, a gentle reintroduction of his body to yours, a silent promise that he would take all the time in the world to worship you, to cherish you, and to make sure you knew exactly how much you were loved. Under the vast, watchful canopy of the stars, the world was nothing but the two of you.
His lips began to wander again, mapping the constellations of your skin with a patience that felt infinite. He kissed the sensitive skin behind your ear, down the column of your throat, pausing only to murmur sweet, devastating praises against your pulse. "My beautiful girl," he whispered, the words vibrating against your skin.
As he hovered above you, the air between your bodies felt thick, almost electric. Mark’s eyes were dark, swirling with a mixture of intense desire and a profound, quiet tenderness. He shifted slightly, moving to the edge of the blankets to reach for the waistband of his swim shorts.
He didn't rush the movement. He kept his gaze locked on yours the entire time, as if he were afraid that if he looked away, the magic of the moment might break. You watched, your breath hitching, as he slowly peeled the damp fabric down his muscular legs. As he stepped out of them, he sat back between your thighs, his body fully revealed to the moonlight. His cock slapped against his abdomen. It had a long bulging vein running along the side of it. His tip was an angry, sensitive red.
He was beautiful strong, lean, and pulsing with a life force that seemed to radiate from his very skin. His hand reached down, his fingers wrapping around himself in a slow, rhythmic stroke. He began to move, a steady, deliberate motion that made his muscles ripple under the soft light. Some moans fell from his mouth.
He wasn't just pleasuring himself; he was watching your reaction, his eyes searching yours to see how much you were enjoying the sight of him.
He leaned forward, his body hovering just inches above yours, and began to rut slowly against you. It wasn't a hard or aggressive movement, but a soft, sliding friction the heat of him pressing against your sensitive, swollen folds. The sensation was maddening, a teasing promise of what was to come.
"You like that?" he rasped, his voice dropping to a low, vibrating growl that sent shivers racing down your spine. "Do you like feeling me against you?"
"Yes... please, Mark," you whimpered, your hips instinctively tilting up to meet his pressure.
He paused, his breathing heavy and ragged. He braced himself on his forearms, his chest hovering just above yours, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that felt like he was reading your very soul.
"I want to be inside you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion and restraint. "But only if you want it too. Tell me, baby... can I enter you? Can I be part of you?"
The question, so simple yet so profound, made your heart swell. It wasn't just about the physical act; it was about the permission to be completely, utterly one. "Yes," you breathed, your voice a steady vow. "Please, Mark. I want you. All of you."
A soft, relieved sound escaped his throat, a mix of a groan and a sigh. He didn't move to enter you immediately. Instead, he reached down, his fingers slick with your own sweetness, and began to explore you. He slid one finger inside you, then two, moving with an agonizingly slow, rhythmic motion that mimicked the way he had just been rubbing against you.
"You're so warm," he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours as he worked his fingers inside you, stretching you gently, preparing you for his size. "So perfect. You feel so good, so tight... so ready for me."
As he worked, his other hand never stopped its worship. He was rubbing your stomach, tracing the line of your ribs, his palm sliding over the soft swell of your breasts, his thumb constantly teasing your nipple. He was enveloping you in his touch, making sure every inch of your skin felt the weight of his devotion.
"Just relax for me, sweetheart," he reassured you, his voice a soothing balm to the frantic beating of your heart. "Just feel how much I love you. There's no rush. We have all the time in the world." He kept reassuring you. You notice that he does that. Always keeping you in mind.
-🍑-
He leaned down, pressing a long, slow, deep kiss to your lips, tasting the desperation and the love in your mouth. As he pulled back, he positioned himself at your entrance, the tip of him brushing against you, teasing the opening.
He began to sink into you, a movement so slow and deliberate it felt like a prayer. He entered you inch by inch, his eyes locked onto yours, watching the way your expression shifted from anticipation to pure, unadulterated bliss. He was careful, mindful of your body, pausing whenever he felt you catch your breath, waiting for you to settle into the sensation.
"There you go," he whispered, a soft, triumphant smile tugging at his lips as he finally seated himself fully within you. "You feel so incredible. You're everything, you know that? Everything."
You couldn't speak, couldn't breathe. All you did was let out a soft, shaky moan as he filled you completely, stretching and stretching, claiming every inch of your inner space. It was so full, so intensely intimate, that it felt like you could feel his pulse inside you. It felt like your very soul was being touched.
"Just... stay there," He was struggling himself. If he didn’t have more pride he would’ve came right there and then.
The connection was overwhelming a physical and emotional fusion that left you breathless. As he began to move, it wasn't with force, but with a slow, rhythmic grace, a gentle swaying that felt like a dance. Every thrust was a promise, every kiss a vow, as you both drifted away from the world and into the beautiful, sweet sanctuary of each other.
as you gasped, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment as the sheer fullness of him settled deep within your core. The sensation was intense, a heavy, stretching warmth that seemed to reach all the way to your soul, but because of his gentleness, it wasn't overwhelming it was perfect. It was the feeling of finally being whole.
He stayed still for a long moment, buried deep inside you, simply breathing with you. He leaned down to press his forehead against yours, his skin slick with sweat, his eyes searching yours in the dim moonlight. "You okay?" he whispered, his voice a low, grounding vibration. "Tell me if it's too much.”
"You're so beautiful. I could stay here forever," he whispered, his voice low and tender. He began to move again, his hips rocking gently against yours. The movement was so slow and deliberate that it felt like he was memorizing every inch of you.
“I want this to be perfect for you."
"It's perfect," you managed to choke out, your hands sliding down his back to grip his firm muscles, pulling him even tighter against you. "Don't stop. Please, Mark... don't stop."
With a soft, adoring smile, he began to move. It was a slow, rhythmic glide, a steady back and forth that prioritized connection over speed. He withdrew almost all the way before sliding back in, a deliberate, agonizingly sweet motion that made you moan his name into the quiet night. Each time he pushed forward, he would lean down to catch your lips in a deep, soul searching kiss, or press a tender kiss to your jaw, your neck, or your temple, as if he were trying to mark every part of you with his affection.
The friction was a warm, sliding comfort, a rhythmic pulse that built a slow burning fire in your belly.
"I love you. I love you. I love you," he repeated like a mantra, the words a steady drumbeat beneath the sounds of your mingled breath and the soft, wet slide of their bodies moving together. Each thrust was a physical manifestation of that love, a slow, deliberate claiming that felt less like taking and more like giving.
He was fucking you so good you hadn’t realized what he said. As he moved, the sheer reality of him being inside you became the center of your entire universe. It was a sensation of incredible, heavy fullness that seemed to occupy every corner of your being. You could feel the thick, pulsing length of him stretching you, a warm and solid presence that felt as though it were reaching deep into your very core, anchoring you to the bed and to him.
Visually, the sight was breathtaking. In the soft, flickering light of the dying campfire, you could see where your bodies met the way his muscular thighs framed your full hips, and the way his skin glided against yours with every slow, deliberate stroke.
"Feel that?" he groaned softly, his pace remaining achingly slow, deliberate. "Feel me inside you? This is where I want to be. Where I belong."
His hips rolled in that devastatingly slow rhythm, his cock hitting a spot within you that made your toes curl and your eyes roll back. He noticed, of course, he always noticed.
You could see the slight, rhythmic swell of him as he slid deep within you, the base of his shaft pressing firmly against your entrance, creating a seamless connection of skin on skin. Every time he withdrew, you could see the glistening, wet sheen of him, coated in your own sweetness, before he slowly, reverently sank back home.
The feeling was nothing short of overwhelming. It wasn't a sharp or intrusive sensation, but a deep, sliding warmth that felt like being filled with liquid sunlight. You could feel the distinct, rhythmic throb of his pulse against your internal walls, a frantic, living heartbeat that mirrored your own. Every time he pushed forward, the sensation was a slow, heavy pressure that seemed to massage you from the inside out, hitting those deep, sensitive spots with a precision that made your toes curl and your breath hitch in a continuous, broken rhythm.
The slow, deliberate friction was unraveling you piece by piece. You felt entirely possessed, not in a way that demanded submission, but in a way that offered complete sanctuary. Every deep, heavy thrust felt like he was rewriting your definition of intimacy, replacing every ache you’d ever carried with the steady, rhythmic pulse of his love.
"You feel so good," he groaned, his voice a low, ragged vibration that you felt as much as heard. He leaned down, his chest brushing against your breasts, his sweat slicked skin sliding against yours in a way that made you feel completely enveloped by him. "So tight... so warm. It's like you were made just to hold me like this."
As he moved, you could feel the incredible texture of him the smooth, velvet heat of his skin and the powerful, unyielding strength of his muscles as he braced himself to keep his movements gentle for you. The friction was a slow, honeyed burn, a rhythmic sliding that built a pressure in your lower abdomen that was both aching and exquisite. It was a heavy, grounding sensation, a feeling of being completely possessed and completely cherished all at once.
You reached down, your fingers grazing the place where you were joined, feeling the incredible tension of his body as he worked. You could feel the way he trembled slightly with the effort of his restraint, his entire being focused on the delicate, beautiful task of moving inside you without breaking the spell.
It was a sensation of pure, unadulterated intimacy the feeling of his weight, his heat, and his incredible, pulsing length filling the void inside you, turning the emptiness into a beautiful, aching fullness that made you feel, for the first time in your life, truly, completely whole.
The friction was a slow, honeyed burn, a rhythmic sliding that built a pressure in your lower abdomen that was both aching and exquisite. He wasn't just moving within you; he was communicating with you through every inch of his length, his every thrust a silent question, a gentle demand for your surrender, and a promise of the pleasure to come.
The pace began to shift, almost imperceptibly at first. The slow, reverent swaying gradually gained a subtle, driving momentum. Mark’s breathing became more jagged, his chest heaving against yours, and the soft, sweet murmurs in your ear turned into deep, guttural groans of pure, unbridled need. He was losing that careful restraint, the sheer intensity of how you felt around him finally beginning to crack the dam of his composure.
"God, you're so tight," he gasped, his hips hitting yours with a more pronounced, rhythmic thud that sent jolts of electricity straight to your brain. "Every time I move... it's like you're pulling me even deeper. You're squeezing me so perfectly."
He began to drive into you with more purpose, his movements becoming longer and more profound. Each time he withdrew, he seemed to pull a piece of your soul with him, only to slam back home with a force that made you cry out, your back arching off the blankets as you chased the sensation. The heavy, pulsing fullness was no longer just a comfort; it was a catalyst, a driving force that pushed you both closer and closer to the edge of a precipice.
Your hands clutched at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you tried to ground yourself in the storm of sensation. The world had narrowed down to this: the heat of his skin, the rhythmic friction of his dick sliding deep inside you, and the overwhelming, beautiful weight of him. You could feel the tension building in your own body, a tight, coiled spring of pleasure that was begging to snap.
"Mark... Mark!" you sobbed, your voice breaking as the first tremors of a climax began to ripple through your core.
"I've got you, sweet girl. Just let go." he commanded, his voice a raw, desperate rasp. He abandoned all pretense of slowness, his hips moving in a frantic, powerful rhythm, his entire body tensing as he drove himself into you one last, devastating time, seeking to lose himself entirely within your warmth.
The sensation was a violent, beautiful explosion. As he buried himself to the hilt, his entire body went rigid, his muscles locking in a powerful, trembling spasm. You felt the sudden, hot surge of him deep inside you a rhythmic, pulsing release that seemed to flood your very being. At the same moment, your own climax shattered you. It was a tidal wave of pure, white hot electricity that started at the point where you were joined and radiated outward, turning your bones to liquid and your breath to staccato gasps.
You cried out, your voice lost in the quiet of the forest, your fingers digging so hard into his shoulders that you knew there would be marks tomorrow. Your internal muscles clamped down on him in frantic, involuntary pulses, milking him, drawing out every last drop of his devotion. Mark let out a long, guttural moan of release, his head falling into the crook of your neck as he shuddered violently against you, his weight pressing you deep into the soft earth beneath the blankets.
For a long time, the only sound was the ragged, synchronized heaving of your chests and the distant, rhythmic chirping of crickets. He didn't pull away; he stayed buried deep, his body still twitching with the aftershocks of his orgasm, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your own. The heat between you was staggering, a heavy, humid cocoon that made the cool night air feel like a distant memory.
Slowly, the frantic energy began to settle into a profound, heavy warmth. Mark shifted, his movements languid and exhausted, as he finally withdrew from you with a soft, wet sound that seemed to echo in the silence. You felt his release begin to leak out of your cunt. He didn't move far, though. He immediately collapsed onto his side, pulling you into the curve of his body, tucking your head under his chin and wrapping his heavy, muscular arms around you as if to shield you from the rest of the universe.
"Wow," he whispered, the word barely a breath, laced with a sense of awe that made your heart ache.
He pressed a lingering, tender kiss to the top of your head, his skin still slick and smelling of salt and sweetness. "That was... everything. You are everything."
You curled into him, your limbs feeling heavy and delightfully weak, the afterglow washing over you in warm, soothing waves. You felt safe. You felt seen. You felt entirely, irrevocably loved. As the stars continued their slow dance above the canopy, you drifted toward a sleep that felt as deep and beautiful as the connection you had just shared, wrapped in the arms of the boy who had just turned your world upside down.
As the frantic energy of the climax finally ebbed away, leaving only the heavy, rhythmic sound of your breathing, Mark didn't just roll away to catch his own breath. He stayed anchored to you, his body a warm, protective weight. He waited until the tremors in your limbs subsided, until he could feel the tension truly leaving your muscles, signaling that you were drifting into the heavy, sweet lethargy of a post orgasmic sleep.
He watched you for a long time in the dim moonlight, his eyes tracing the flush on your cheeks and the way your eyelashes cast long shadows against your skin. You looked so peaceful, so utterly surrendered to the exhaustion.
Moving with a quiet, deliberate grace so as not to disturb you, Mark began to take care of you. He reached for a clean, soft cloth. With a tenderness that was almost heartbreaking, he began to clean you.
He started between your legs, gently wiping away the evidence of what had just transpired. He was careful, almost reverent, as if he knew you were more sensitive there now. His touch was light, soothing, completely different from the desperate, urgent way he had touched you minutes before.
He was meticulous, his touch light and reverent as he wiped away the traces of your passion, the sweat, and the slickness of your shared release. He treated your body like something sacred, as if he were cleaning a masterpiece. He moved the cloth with slow, soothing strokes, ensuring you were comfortable and clean, his expression one of pure, focused devotion.
Once you were clean, he didn't leave you exposed. He reached for the heavy, fleece blanket you had brought to the clearing. He draped it carefully over your body, tucking the edges around your shoulders and hips to trap the warmth of the fire and your own body heat. He lingered for a moment, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips barely brushing your skin.
"Sleep, beautiful," he whispered, his voice a mere ghost of a sound. "I've got you."
He spent the next hour in a state of quiet vigilance. He gathered the gear with practiced, silent movements. He was careful to keep the world at bay, creating a small, safe sanctuary for you to rest in.
Eventually, the chill of the deep night began to seep through the trees, and he knew it was time to move. He didn't want to wake you, so he moved with the precision of a man performing a delicate ritual. He gathered the equipment and you up in his arms, lifting you with an ease that spoke of his strength, cradling you against his chest as if you were made of the finest porcelain. You let out a tiny, sleepy moan, your head instinctively nuzzling into the crook of his neck, but you didn't wake. You simply clung to him in your sleep, trusting him completely.
He carried you through the dark woods, the moonlight guiding his path to where his car was parked on the forest trail. The night air was crisp, but you were cocooned in his warmth and the thick blanket. He reached the car and carefully settled you into the passenger seat, reclining it back so you could lie comfortably. He draped the blanket over you once more, ensuring you were snug and warm.
As he climbed into the driver's seat, he didn't start the engine right away. He simply sat there in the dark, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest, the soft glow of the dashboard lights illuminating your peaceful face. He reached over, his hand finding yours and squeezing it gently, a silent promise of protection.
He started the car, the low hum of the engine a soothing lullaby in the quiet night. As he began the slow drive back to his apartment, the world outside the windows was a blur of dark trees…
Now that he had you, he couldn’t go back. He never would.
Mark Grayson has a terrible time finding a lover. Like any normal young adult, he gets on a dating app. Weeks pass and it’s getting him nowhere! Until he comes across you.
🏷️ Tags!
Teeth rotting sweet fluff. Eventual soft sex. Body Worship. Mark worships the ground you walk on. Corny in some part i guess.. Mark and Reader are inexperienced and awkward. Dating Apps. Body insecurity. Mark is a chubby chaser. Reader has body issues. Little bit of hurt with a LOT of Comfort. All hurt is from past experience. Kissing. Touching. Appearance of eve and mark’s past relationships. Reader and mark are both approx ~20. Camping. Hiking, Swimming. Mark is a pervert, but so are you. More tags to add..
Mark Grayson had saved the world more than he could count on his fingers and toes this month.
Okay, technically one of those times had only been a city, and technically the other ones had mostly been Eve saving his ass while he got punched through several office buildings, but the point still stood.
He was Invincible. He could fly at hypersonic speeds. He could bench press things that definitely shouldn't be bench-pressed. He had personally fought aliens, supervillains, alternate versions of himself, and his own dad.
And yet
"You have zero game."
Mark looked up from his cereal. "Excuse me?" Across the kitchen table, Eve didn't even glance up from her phone.
"Zero. Absolutely none."
"I've dated people."
"Name one relationship that didn't end terribly."
Mark opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. "...that's not fair." Mark’s lip jutted out into a pout.
"It's extremely fair."
Mark shoved another spoonful of cereal into his mouth.
Eve finally looked up.
"Mark."
"No."
"You don't even know what I'm gonna say."
"I do, actually."
"You should get on a dating app."
Mark nearly inhaled a piece of his cereal.
"A dating app?"
"Yes."
"I'm Invincible."
"And?.." She raised an eyebrow at him.
"Superheroes don't use dating apps." he huffed.
Eve stared at him.
Somewhere in Chicago, a car alarm went off. Mark pointed dramatically toward the window.
"See? That's probably a supervillain."
"That's just somebody’s shitty Nissan Altima."
"My point stands."
"Your point has never stood."
Mark groaned and buried his face in his hands.
The worst part was that she wasn't wrong.
Because somehow, despite being one of the strongest people on Earth, Mark Grayson couldn't pull to save his life.
Literally.
Figuratively.
Romantically.
At this point, he'd probably have better luck fighting a Viltrumite than successfully flirting with a woman at a coffee shop. Or anywhere for that matter.
Eve took mark’s phone and downloaded an app. She slid his phone back across the table.
The screen displayed a dating app signup page.
It was all peach themed.
Mark stared at it like it was a live grenade.
"Absolutely not."
Five minutes later, he was choosing profile pictures.
Mark Grayson hadn't expected the matches.
That was the problem.
The entire reason he'd agreed to the app was because nobody was supposed to know who he was.
Not really.
His profile didn't mention Invincible.
It didn't mention superheroes.
It didn't mention saving the world.
His photos were normal. Just him in casual clothes, awkward smiles, pictures taken by friends over the years.
Nothing that screamed one of the strongest people on Earth.
The profile was intentionally boring.
And yet people kept matching with him.
At first he assumed it was luck.
Then coincidence.
Then curiosity.
By the third day, he wasn't so sure.
Mark sat on the edge of his bed, scrolling through another list of notifications.
Twenty-seven matches.
Thirty-one.
Thirty-eight.
The number kept growing.
He frowned.
That wasn't normal.
At least it didn't feel normal.
He worried that he didn’t play into a secretly identity enough
His thumb hovered over one profile before opening the conversation.
What do you do for work?
The question appeared constantly.
It was harmless.
Normal.
The kind of thing people asked each other.
Mark still hated it.
He typed.
Deleted.
Typed again.
Deleted that too.
Eventually he settled on:
“I help people.”
A minute later came responses like
“That's vague.” or “Like a social worker?”
Because it was.
Everything had to be vague.
What was he supposed to say?
“I stop alien invasions.”
“I get punched through mountains.”
“My dad killed the guardians of the globe and attempted to take over Earth and I tied to stop him.”
None of those answers exactly worked.
The conversations always died shortly afterward.
Not the first one.
Not the last.
Mark sighed and closed the app.
Maybe Eve had been wrong.
Maybe this had been a terrible idea.
-🍑-
The next day he opened the app again.
Mostly because he was bored.
Partly because there were even more matches.
That part still confused him.
Every time he expected the number to stop growing, it didn't.
Another conversation.
Another introduction.
Another person asking about him.
The normal kind of questions.
Family.
School.
Work.
Plans.
Future.
Questions that should have been easy.
Questions that somehow weren't.
Because every honest answer led somewhere dangerous.
His family was complicated.
His job was impossible to explain.
His future changed every time a new threat appeared.
Even talking about where he'd grown up felt risky.
So Mark kept pieces of himself hidden.
Not because he wanted to lie.
Because he didn't know how not to.
-🍑-
A week later he matched with someone who didn't ask what he did.
Didn't ask where he worked.
Didn't ask why he seemed strangely private.
Instead she asked what he liked doing when he wasn't busy.
Mark stared at the screen.
That was somehow harder.
Because the truthful answer was flying.
Flying with no destination.
Flying because the clouds looked different at sunset.
Flying because for a few minutes the world felt quiet.
But that answer wasn't exactly normal.
So instead he wrote:
I like being outside.
A few moments later she replied.
Me too.
That was it.
No interrogation.
No follow-up questions.
No attempts to figure him out.
Just a conversation.
Simple.
Easy.
She was also gorgeous. She was curvy, fat in all the right places. While other men felt threatened by a bigger woman, it only spurred him on.
It almost made him giddy.
For the first time since downloading the app, Mark felt himself relax.
Maybe that was the trick.
Maybe not everyone needed the whole story immediately.
The thought lingered longer than he expected.
Mark and the stranger woman who likes nature continue to talk.
Off and on throughout the day he’d hear that high pitched ping.
He’d pick up his phone with haste each time. He was actually entertained by her. Eventually came the question,
“Do you want to go out on a date?”
Mark stared at the notification.
He stared at it for a solid thirty seconds. His mouth went dry.
The words didn't rearrange themselves into something less terrifying.
“Do you want to go out on a date?”
It wasn't a complicated sentence.
It was six words.
Six normal, human words that normal, human people exchanged every single day without suffering a cardiac event.
His heart actually beat so fast that it probably would’ve killed a normal human.
You watched as Mark’s message bubble popped up and away again. The three bouncing dots tantalizing.
You took a thick swallow in.
Eyes laser focused on the screen.
You also have had little to bad luck when it came to dating.
Men usually only wanted sex, not a real relationship. One that was soft.
You thought the same thing would happen with Mark.
He looked like a fuck boy with some nerdy interests sprinkled in.
But something about his profile told you to take a chance.
The dots bounced.
Stopped.
Bounced again.
Paused.
Then finally, Mark's message appeared.
“I'd like that.”
Relief flooded through Mark.
Then immediate panic.
Because he'd just said yes.
To an in-person date.
With a real human woman who liked being outside and didn't ask about his stupid cover story.
They'd never even heard each other's voices.
He scratched the back of his neck, coming to terms that he may just be a dumbass.
“Come to (this address..)”
You sent him the address of a camp deep within the mountains.
It was secluded,
intimate.
You hoped he didn’t think you were some serial killer.
All you know is that you have an extremely attractive man willing to go out with you.
Score!
Mark stared at the address.
The app showed a preview.
Mountains.
Trees.
A single camp icon blinking in the middle of nowhere.
No street names.
No nearby businesses.
Just coordinates that looked like they'd been pulled from a survivalist's wet dream.
Immediately, Mark's brain remembered all the crime documentaries he’s watched with his mom. Chill bumps raised on his skin.
This was absolutely how serial killers got you. Everytime he watched those shows he thought that the victim should’ve seen the red flags. I mean a secluded campsite with barely any service and literally no nearby towns?
come on.
If he wasn’t a superhero he’d be more worried.
“I’ll see you there then!”
You throw your phone across the room. It smacks against the wall, sliding down and eventually landing face side up.
You can feel your heart beating right out of your chest.
When was the last time you really went on a date? To be perfectly honest, you didn’t know.
Meanwhile, Mark was hyperventilating.
He threw himself backward onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling fan spinning lazily above him.
He had a date.
An actual, planned, confirmed date.
With coordinates that led deep into the wilderness.
"This’ll be the stupidest thing i’ll ever do," he announced to the empty room.
-🍑-
Mark arrived at the coordinates.
He touched down gently on the grass, checking his surroundings.
No monsters.
No Viltrumites.
No land mines.
Just trees. A lot of them. And a cabin in the distance.
“Alright.. what’s the catch..” He said to himself.
There was no catch. Just a squirrel scurrying across the ground in front of him.
His heart was doing something weird in his chest. Something that reminded him of before fights. Except without the adrenaline or the survival instinct.
This was worse. He could throw up. He just might. He choked it down.
All mark could hear was the sounds of the surrounding wildlife.
Eventually though, he hears a car pull up. It’s small, kinda shitty. It gets the job done.
However, he forgets everything else when he sees you. Your full curvaceous figure has him head over heels. Mark has always liked his women with a little more meat on their bones. More to love he thinks.
Mark froze.
The car door opened.
You stepped out.
Mark stopped breathing.
Every single thought in his head instantly evaporated, replaced by a high-pitched static that drowned out the birds, the wind, and the distant engine ticking as it cooled.
You were... absolutely gorgeous.
And exactly his type.
Soft, full curves. Hips that looked like they were designed to be held.
If he was a cartoon, his jaw would’ve been on the floor with his eyes the shapes of hearts. Right now, you were his Jessica rabbit.
You were having a similar issue.
You looked at him and you had to hold your jaw closed.
He was ripped to say the least. You could literally see those abs through his shirt.
Guys like him used to bully you in high school. You could feel the insecurities from that era bubbling up. You shake your head, shoving them down deep.
You put on a shy smile, gripping the strap of your backpack for dear life.
You both stood there, staring.
Mark was actively trying to remember how to speak.
His brain was short-circuiting between "she's so beautiful" and "oh god don't mess this up."
You were having your own internal crisis, suddenly feeling seventeen again, convinced that someone would laugh and ask what a guy like him was doing with a girl like you.
The silence stretched.
It was like two cowboys having a stand off.
The silence stretched.
And stretched…
And somehow, with every passing second, you became more aware of yourself.
The softness of your stomach beneath your shirt. The curve of your hips. The way your hands suddenly felt awkward. You resisted the urge to cross your arms over yourself, to make yourself smaller like you always did when someone was looking at you for too long.
Especially someone like Mark.
Because Mark wasn't just looking.
He was staring.
Not with pity. Not with amusement. Not with the polite kind of attention people gave when they were trying not to seem rude.
He looked... awestruck.
Which somehow made it worse.
Your heart hammered against your ribs.
He's gonna realize.
It was a stupid thought. An old thought. One you'd carried around for years despite every attempt to leave it behind.
He's gonna look closer and realize he could do better.
The insecurity hit so fast it almost made you laugh.
Seventeen years old again. Standing in front of a mirror. Listening to girls talk about diets and tiny waists. Wondering why nobody ever looked at you the way they looked at them.
And yet here Mark was.
Looking at you like you hung the stars.
His mouth opened.
Closed.
Opened again.
You nearly smiled.
"Are you okay?" you finally asked, your voice soft.
Mark blinked.
"Oh."
Another blink.
Then a hand dragged down his face. Mainly to wipe his drool.
"Wow, that was bad."
A laugh escaped you before you could stop it.
His expression brightened immediately at the sound.
"No, seriously," he continued, laughing nervously. "I had something cool planned to say."
"Did you?"
"Absolutely."
"What was it?"
Mark pointed at you.
Then immediately lowered his hand.
"I forgot."
You laughed harder this time.
And for the first time since you'd walked in, some of the tension loosened from your shoulders.
Because Mark was still staring.
But now you could see it clearly.
Not judgment.
Not disappointment.
Not confusion.
Just a boy who looked completely, hopelessly smitten.
His smile softened.
"You know," he said quietly, "I don't think I've ever seen anyone look this pretty before."
The warmth that flooded your face was immediate.
"Mark—"
"No, I'm serious."
His eyes met yours.
Steady. Earnest. Certain.
And suddenly all those old fears felt a little smaller beneath the weight of his gaze.
Not gone.
Maybe they never would be.
But quieter.
For once, the voice telling you that someone like him could never want someone like you wasn't the loudest thing in the room.
The loudest thing was your heartbeat.
And the way Mark looked at you like choosing you had never been a question at all.
The sunset painted everything gold.
The lake shimmered beyond the trees, perfectly still except for the occasional ripple across the surface. The clearing was exactly how you'd imagined it when you'd suggested this trip.
Honestly, you were a little proud of yourself.
Most people had reacted to your idea with confusion.
"A first date? Camping?"
"Are you trying to get murdered?"
"Why not just get coffee like a normal person?"
Well you weren’t normal, that was for sure.
But coffee dates felt awful.
Too much staring.
Too much pressure.
Too much sitting across from someone wondering if they were secretly judging every little thing about you.
Out here, there was something to do.
Something to focus on besides yourself.
At least that had been the plan.
Unfortunately for you, Mark Grayson kept looking at you regardless.
Like constantly.
Enough that every time you caught him, he'd glance away like he'd been caught doing something embarrassing. A light pink blush dusting his cheeks.
It was weird.
Cute.
And deeply confusing.
It was already getting late.
You trekked to your initially planned camping area. It was half way down the mountain. An area overlooking the shining water.
-🍑-
Mark was sitting on the log across from you, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows, the firelight casting warm gold across his features.
You caught yourself staring.
Again.
You quickly looked away.
Only to find him already looking at you.
Your stomach immediately flipped.
There was something dangerous about the way Mark looked at you.
Not dangerous in a frightening way.
Dangerous in the way it made you forget every reason you'd spent years convincing yourself not to hope.
Because every time his eyes found yours, there was this softness there.
This quiet affection.
As though looking at you was his favorite thing to do.
You still didn't understand it.
A part of you wasn't sure you ever would.
"What?" you asked softly.
Mark blinked.
Like he'd been pulled from a thought.
"Hm?"
"You're staring."
The corner of his mouth twitched.
"So are you."
Heat rushed into your face.
"I wasn't."
"You were."
"I was looking at the fire."
"The fire's over here."
You immediately looked away.
His smile widened.
teasing you slightly.
The kind of smile that made your chest ache.
For a few moments, neither of you spoke.
The sound of the lake lapping gently against the shore filled the space between you.
You watched the flames.
Mark watched you.
Eventually, you felt his gaze again.
Gentle.
Patient.
Steady.
The kind of attention that made you want to hide and bask in it at the same time.
Your fingers tightened around your sleeves.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
His answer came immediately.
Without hesitation.
The warmth of it settled somewhere deep in your chest.
You swallowed.
"Why did you swipe right on me?"
The words left your mouth before you could stop them.
Immediately, you wished you could take them back.
Mark's expression softened.
The firelight reflected in his eyes.
"What?"
You stared into the flames.
Suddenly unable to look at him.
"I don't know."
Your voice came out smaller than intended.
"I just..."
You laughed quietly.
Embarrassed.
"I guess I never expected you to."
The confession hung in the air.
You hated how vulnerable it sounded.
How honest it sounded.
For a moment, Mark didn't answer.
When he did, his voice was so gentle it almost hurt.
"Why wouldn't I?"
You shrugged.
Unable to explain years of insecurity in a single sentence.
Unable to explain what it felt like growing up feeling invisible.
Like every pretty girl in the room somehow existed under a brighter light than you did.
Mark stared at you for a long moment.
Then he stood.
Your heart immediately started racing.
He crossed the small distance between you and settled beside you on the log.
Close enough that your shoulders touched.
Neither of you spoke.
You became painfully aware of every inch of space between you.
Every breath.
Every heartbeat.
Then Mark quietly reached over and took your hand.
Like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Like he'd been wanting to do it all evening.
Your breath caught.
The pad of his thumb rubbed against your knuckle. He held your hand there on your thigh.
Slow.
Careful.
Almost shy.
"I swiped right because you seemed kind."
Your eyes lifted to his.
Mark's gaze never wavered.
"You seemed funny."
Another gentle stroke of his thumb.
"You seemed smart."
The corner of his mouth lifted.
"And your profile made me smile."
He brought your hand up to his lips. He softly pressed a kiss against your skin.
Something inside you melted.
Completely.
Hopelessly.
"I remember sitting there looking at your pictures and thinking I really hoped you'd answer me."
You laughed softly.
"That first message was not the greatest."
"I know."
His smile grew.
"But you answered."
Your heart was beating so hard you were certain he could hear it.
Unbeknownst to you, he could. Curse his superhuman hearing.
The look on his face made it impossible to look away.
Like he wasn't seeing the things you criticized about yourself.
The softness.
The flaws.
The parts you'd spent years wishing you could change.
He was just seeing you.
And somehow that felt more intimate than anything else.
The fire crackled quietly beside you.
The lake shimmered beneath the moonlight.
Mark squeezed your hand.
A small smile tugged at his lips.
And in that moment, sitting beneath a sky full of stars with his hand wrapped around yours, you realized something.
For the entire evening, Mark had looked at you like you were the prettiest thing in the woods.
Even with a moonlit lake twenty feet away.
And somehow, impossibly, he seemed completely sincere about it.
You lean against his steady shoulder.
Mark internally freaked out, but he played it off…
His other hand was digging into the log, crushing it.
…
The moment lingered.
The warmth of his hand around yours.
The crackling fire.
The quiet rush of water against the shore.
It should have felt perfect.
Maybe it did.
That was the problem.
Perfect things had a way of making you nervous.
Your gaze dropped to your intertwined hands.
Mark's thumb still brushed absentmindedly over your knuckles, like he wasn't even thinking about it.
Like touching you had already become natural.
The thought made your chest ache.
Because you wanted this.
You really did.
But wanting things had never guaranteed you'd get to keep them.
You stared into the fire.
"You know," you said softly, "you're making this difficult."
Mark looked down at you.
"Hm?"
You huffed a small laugh.
"You're nice."
His eyebrows rose.
"That's the complaint?"
"Yes. Ew."
He smiled.
"I think that's the first time anybody's ever said that to me."
You rolled your eyes, but your smile faded quickly.
The words slipped out before you could stop them.
"Most people aren't."
Within your time together, Mark realized that you’ve been deeply hurt before. Maybe by past lovers, friends, family? It didn’t matter to him.
It made him feel a nasty wave wash over him. Protectiveness? Anger? He couldn’t put a finger on it. It swirled deep within his chest.
The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable.
Just thoughtful.
Mark didn't immediately ask what you meant.
Didn't demand an explanation.
He simply waited.
And somehow that made it easier.
You drew your knees up slightly.
"People can be mean."
The statement felt stupidly obvious.
Yet it carried years behind it.
School hallways.
Whispered comments.
Friends who weren't really friends.
Dates that made you feel like a joke.
People who acted interested until they decided they weren't.
Mark's expression softened.
The kind that let you know he was listening.
"I spent a long time feeling like I had to earn people liking me."
Your voice was quiet.
"So whenever somebody's nice to me, I kind of assume there's a catch."
It caught him off guard with how close he related to your words.
Mark looked down at your joined hands.
Then back at you.
"And if there isn't?"
You laughed softly.
"I don't know. That’s never happened."
The honesty of the answer surprised both of you.
For a moment, neither of you spoke.
The fire crackled.
A breeze stirred the trees overhead.
Then Mark shifted slightly on the log.
"You know what I thought when I first saw your profile?"
You groaned immediately.
"Oh no."
"I'm serious."
"That never ends well."
A small grin tugged at his mouth.
"It does this time."
You narrowed your eyes.
He ignored you.
"First, I thought you are a damn fine woman."
Heat immediately rushed to your face.
Mark continued before you could protest.
"And I thought you looked like someone I'd want to spend time with."
You opened your mouth.
Closed it.
Opened it again.
"That's it?"
"That's it."
You stared.
Mark shrugged.
Like it was the simplest thing in the world.
Like there had never been anything complicated about it.
The thing was, he genuinely seemed to mean it.
There was no hesitation.
No qualification.
No despite.
Just you.
The way you were.
Exactly as you were.
The realization settled somewhere deep inside your chest.
Not fixing anything.
Not magically erasing old wounds.
Just loosening them.
A little.
You liked how straightforward he was.
-🍑-
The night grew colder as the hours passed.
Eventually, you stood to grab something from your backpack.
Only for your foot to catch on a root hidden beneath the grass.
A startled sound escaped you.
The world tilted.
And before you could fully process what was happening,
A hand caught your waist.
Steady.
Effortless.
You blinked.
Mark blinked back.
One arm was wrapped securely around you.
Like keeping you upright hadn't required any effort whatsoever.
For a second neither of you moved.
Then realization hit.
"Oh my God."
You buried your face in your hands.
"I almost ate dirt."
A laugh escaped Mark.
"You did."
You groaned.
His hand lingered for a moment longer before he stepped back.
The movement was reluctant enough that it made your stomach flutter.
Not because of what he'd done.
But because of how natural it had felt.
Like his first instinct had simply been to catch you.
Make sure you were okay.
Nothing more complicated than that.
You glanced over at him.
The firelight painted gold across his face.
His smile was small.
Warm.
Soft around the edges.
And for the first time all evening, the knot of anxiety in your chest loosened enough for you to smile back without overthinking it.
Mark's eyes lit up immediately.
As though that smile was worth more than the stars overhead.
And somehow, sitting beside the lake with the night stretching endlessly around you, you found yourself hoping this wasn't one of those things you'd eventually lose.
Because for once, being cared for didn't feel like something you had to earn.
With Mark, it felt like something he gave freely.
And that was a terrifyingly wonderful thing.
You were still thinking about it.
About the way his hand had caught you.
Not just caught, that didn’t even feel like the right word. It had been faster than your brain could process, like gravity had briefly decided it didn’t apply to you and Mark had just corrected it without thinking.
You sat back down near the fire, but your mind stayed stuck on it.
On him.
On the fact that you’d been falling and he’d moved like it wasn’t even a decision.
Mark was sitting beside you again, adjusting a log in the fire like nothing had happened at all.
Like he hadn’t just
You glanced at him.
He looked… normal.
Relaxed. Warm. A little distracted by the flames.
Not someone who had just moved fast enough to make your head spin.
Your eyes narrowed slightly before you could stop yourself.
Mark felt it.
Of course he did.
He looked over. “What?”
You hesitated.
Then pointed vaguely at him.
“How did you do that?”
He blinked. “Do what?”
Mark felt his heart drop to his ass.
“You know.” You gestured toward the space between you like the answer was floating there. “Catch me.”
Mark frowned a little, thinking.
“You tripped.”
“Yes.”
“And you were about to fall.”
“Yes.”
“So I caught you.”
“That part I got.”
He gave you a look that suggested what else would I do?
But that wasn’t the issue.
You shifted closer slightly, still studying him.
“It wasn’t like… a normal catch.”
That made him pause.
“A normal catch?” he repeated.
You exhaled through your nose, frustrated with how impossible this was to explain without sounding insane.
“You were just-” you searched for the words, “-fast. Like, really fast.”
Mark went quiet for half a second.
Long enough that your attention sharpened.
Then he shrugged. “Adrenaline, I guess.”
You squinted at him.
“That was not adrenaline.”
“It could’ve been.”
“It wasn’t.”
He opened his mouth
Closed it again.
You noticed that.
The pause.
The tiny delay before he answered like he was choosing something carefully.
Your gaze stayed on him.
More focused now.
Less soft.
Mark shifted slightly under it. Made him feel some type of.. way
You leaned back a little, eyes still on him, like you were trying to match what you were seeing with what you knew.
Which was a guy from a dating app.
A guy who was bad at flirting.
A guy who got nervous over marshmallows.
A guy who had just caught you like you weighed nothing.
You swallowed.
“…Mark.”
“Yeah?”
You hesitated again.
Then shook your head slightly, like you were trying to reset your thoughts.
“I’m just saying,” you continued slowly, “most people don’t move like that.”
He nodded once. “Fair.”
That should’ve ended it.
It didn’t.
Because now you were noticing other things.
The way he sat a little too straight sometimes, like slouching wasn’t natural for him.
The way he didn’t seem tired after the hike you’d been quietly struggling through.
The way, earlier, he’d barely broken a sweat setting up camp while you’d been fighting with the tent like it had a personal vendetta.
You looked away toward the lake, frowning faintly.
A quiet part of your brain tried to smooth it over.
Tall guys are just like that sometimes.
Athletic.
Lucky genetics.
But it didn’t fully sit right.
Mark was watching you now.
Nervously
Like he was waiting to see where your thoughts landed.
You pulled your knees closer to your chest again.
“I think you’re stronger than you look,” you said finally, more to yourself than him.
A beat.
Mark nodded again. “Yeah.”
Simple.
Too simple.
You looked back at him immediately.
That answer didn’t help at all.
But what struck you more than anything wasn’t the answer.
It was the way he said it.
No joking.
No deflection.
Just… acceptance.
Like there was nothing strange about it.
Like it was just another fact about him, the same way the sky was dark and the fire was warm.
You studied his face again.
Really looked this time.
The quiet steadiness in his eyes when he met yours.
The ease in his posture now that he wasn’t hiding anything emotional.
The way he didn’t seem threatened by your suspicion, just patient with it.
Your chest tightened slightly, not with fear exactly.
With uncertainty.
And something softer underneath it.
Mark shifted a little closer, slow enough that you could’ve moved away if you wanted to.
But you didn’t.
He glanced at you.
“You’re thinking really hard right now.”
“I am not.”
“You are.”
You huffed a quiet laugh despite yourself.
“…I might be a little.”
He smiled faintly.
“About me catching you?”
You hesitated.
Then nodded.
Mark didn’t tease you for it.
Instead, he just said, almost gently, “I wouldn’t let you fall.”
The words weren’t dramatic.
They weren’t big.
But they landed anyway.
Your eyes lingered on him a little longer than before.
And for the first time that night, your thoughts didn’t rush to fill in the silence with worst-case scenarios.
They just… paused.
Like they were waiting to see what he would do next.
Eventually, the night started to feel heavier.
The kind of quiet that settles into the trees when everything living decides it’s time to rest.
Mark stood first, brushing a bit of dirt from his hands.
“Probably should get the tent ready,” he said.
You nodded, pulling yourself up a second later.
“Yeah.”
There was a brief look between you two, unspoken agreement, unspoken nerves, then you both walked back toward the campsite.
The tent still stood.
Barely.
A little slanted. A little stubborn. But upright.
You stared at it for a second.
“It’s standing up,” you said quietly.
Mark hummed. “Barely.”
You shot him a look.
That got him laughing again, soft and easy, like it always seemed to with you.
The kind of sound that made the night feel less empty.
You climbed inside first, kicking off your shoes and adjusting your bag to the side…
since the fanfic i was meaning to post tonight got.. deleted.. I’m gonna post the one i’ve BEEN working on. I hit the max word limit and the story barely started. oops! It’s a mark x chubby fem reader! Hope yall like it
Warnings! violence between mark variants and towards reader. Wound care. Eventual smut. Porn with some plot. blood. Death. Bad grammar probably OOPS! Maybe out of character?? Not so much of a warning but there is Mentions of Omni-mark and other variants. Heavy language. Praise and Degradation kink. Almost a predator-prey dynamic. P in V sex, Cunnilingus. Power Imbalance. Creampie. Breeding Kink. Semi-rough sex. Size kink. Kidnapping. Overstimulation. Biting, Clawing, etc. more tags to add
this is kinda short sorry 🥹
song to read this to: https://open.spotify.com/track/4AyHlEuenAyjMOifhsjBBd?si=kPsrXC7JRD6FaVD5rWFMQA
“Mark..” You moan out softly. You lay down underneath him. He’s hovering over you, One hand beside your head. His hand clutches the sheets tightly, like he’s trying to hold back. You attempt to kiss his neck and jawline only to be met with his suit. “Mark.. take it off..” You whine out, pulling on the elastic suit impatiently.
"You want me out of this suit baby?” His breathing hitches as you pull at his suit. He sits up abruptly, making you whine at the sudden loss of contact. His hands quickly remove his mask, revealing his intense, hungry gaze. He stands up to remove his entire suit, revealing his chiseled body. He’s breathing heavy, blush lightly dusting his cheeks. His hand moves to his clothed member, stroking himself a few sometimes.
Oh. my. god. You think to yourself. You sit there and admire him for a minute. Not to be petty, but you don’t think the mark of your dimension could ever measure up to this mark… His features are sharp and aged. You bite your lip at the sight of him in only his boxers. You run your hands up his body, starting from his hip and ending at his shoulders. You kiss him once he leans down over you again. Allowing his tongue into your mouth, the kiss is passionate and messy. your teeth and tongues clash as you both make out. You grind yourself against his thigh, your wetness spreading across his thigh. The bed groans as you rock back and forth.
He breathily moans into your ear while his hips buck slightly. Your wetness soaks his thigh. He realizes that you're not shy or innocent like you seemed. You're touch starved, you'll hump his thigh like a bitch in heat if he gives you the chance. "You're fucking soaking through your underwear," he growls against your mouth. "Let me take them off, or I'll fucking tear them off."
You knod your head and lift your hips for him to take your panties off. The cold air hits your pussy, you feel his eyes on you. He studies you and your reactions. This is making him impossibly hard, his cock leaking. He bites his bottom lip hard. His hands go to rest on your upper thighs, thumbs close to your pussy. You clench your legs together, feeling a bit exposed. You breathe deeply below him, your chest rising and falling slowly. Trying to stay composed.
His eyes darken as he looks at your pussy, visible through your slightly spread thighs. He can see your juices glistening. He rubs up your thighs to your knees, snaking his hands between them. Without warning, he spreads your legs wider, kneeling between them. His large hands move to rest on your inner thighs, spreading you wide open. “Keep them open for me. Can you do that sweetheart?”
You quietly nod but he doesn’t take that for an answer. He squeezes the meat of your thighs roughly.“Use your words.” You quickly blurt out “Yes!” He smirks and kisses the inside of your thighs. “Good girl..” Spreading your legs, you reveal yourself to him. You gasp as the cold air hits your pussy. Your face begins to blush bright red. You’ve never been so exposed before. You cover your eyes with your hands.
He chuckles at the sight of you covering your face, your legs spread wide and pussy glistening with arousal. His cock twitches within his boxers. He leans down and kisses your inner thigh gently before blowing cool air directly onto your wet folds. You gasp and try to close your legs but his strong hands keep them open. “Don’t hide yourself from me.”
Your hands quickly fly down to his hair. You pull slightly to ground yourself. “Ah! Mark..don’t do that..” You squeal out. Then as he starts to suck and lick your pussy, your squeals turn into moans. You moan out his name and praise him. Your hips rock back and forth and roll. “Yes! mark right there..!”
He groans against your pussy as you pull his hair and fuck yourself against his mouth. He parts your lips with his thumbs and focuses on your clit, sucking and licking it rapidly. “Taste’ so fuckin’ sweet.” he slurs. Your moans and praise fill the room, encouraging him to eat your pussy like a starving man.
Your legs begin to shake around his head. Your thighs clench around his head hard, a pressure that normal men couldn’t take. The pressure on mark’s head only makes him slightly dizzy. You look down at him, only to see his dark eyes looking up at you. Your stomach does flips. You cover your mouth almost in surprise. He looks ethereal under you, mouth and chin wet with your slick. His hair messy from your pulling. Good lord!! You feel the coil in your stomach beginning to come undone. You don’t wanna cum so soon but he’s too good at this. “Oh god! Ahh..wait..Mark! Mmm’ gonna!”
He hums against your pussy. One of His hands grip your thigh tightly as he holds you in place while eating you out brutally. With his other hand, he slips a thick finger into your cunt. The intrusion feels weird at first, but it quickly changes into a better feeling. You’re starting to see stars. He curls his finger just right. He presses just in the right spot. it’s like he’s memorized your body. “Yes! Mark right there!” He feels your pussy squeeze around him tight. "Cum for me baby... I want to taste it"
You let out a loud moan before cumming all over his face and hands. One of your hands is pulling on his hair hard, while the other is clawing at your sheets. Your eyes roll into the back of my head. Your back arches off of the mattress. “That’s it baby. That’s my good girl.”
He keeps his fingers moving rapidly inside you, milking your orgasm out completely as you cum all over him. He continues to suck your clit through your orgasm, prolonging your pleasure. "Fuck yes..." He groans against your pussy before slowly standing up and wiping his face off with the back of his hand. He looks down at you, dark lust swirling within his eyes. He smiles against his hand. The sight makes you shiver. It reminds you of how dangerous he is. Just for a second though..
The room is filled with the scent of sex and the sound of heavy breathing. Your legs rest against the bed with a heavy plop. You look up at him with glazed over eyes. Tears staining your face. He palms himself again at the sight of your tears. Your lips are slightly parted, drooling dripping down from the corner. He moves to hold your shaking legs. His hands massaging your calves with his rough hands. You reach down and softly rub over your lips, swollen from your abuse. “My pretty girl..”
He watches your every movement with intense focus, his own arousal evident through his boxers. You cover your eyes with the back of your hand. His dark eyes make you nervous. Your heart is racing. He comes closer, using one hand to gently tilt your chin up so you're looking at him. "Look at you... so fucking beautiful after coming apart on my face." His thumb brushes over your swollen bottom lip
He kisses you again, he sucks on your button lip. You shakily cup his jaw with one of your hands, leaning in deeper. He breaks the kiss so you can breathe. “can i take care of you?” Your hand that was on your pussy moves to touch his cock through his boxers. You softly touch him through the rough fabric.
He hisses at your touch, his large member twitching under your gentle caress. He pulls back slightly, maintaining eye contact while nodding. His dark stare makes your heart skip a beat. "Mhm... go ahead sweetheart." He flips your position swiftly, gently. You’re on top of him now, sitting in front of him between his strong legs.
You bit your lip and the pull his boxers halfway down his thighs. His cock springs up and hits his stomach. Your mouth waters. You study the thickness, the veins, the color. His tip an angry red, leaking precum. Clearly not the average human dick. You then take it in your hands, slowly stroking top from bottom. “Hah..” He begins to let out soft breaths and groans.
He watches your hands slowly jerk him off. Your touch soft compared to his rough hands. He spreads his legs wider without thought, giving you better access. His large member twitches in your palms, leaking more pre-cum. He's practically a foot taller than you, yet you're handling him like you were born this. "f-fuck..keep going baby doll.”
You feel something swirl within your stomach at the pet-name. You hum as you wrap your lips around the tip of his cock. My tongue swirls around your sensitive area, tasting the saltiness of your precum. You look up at him through your lashes, your hands go to rest on his thighs as you go deeper. The sight makes him bite his lip hard so hard it bleeds. “You’re doing so good..” he grumbles.
He groans deeply, his hips lifting off the bed slightly. Your warm, wet mouth feels incredible. He reaches down, gathering your hair in his large hand. Not pulling, just holding..For now..His other hand grips the sheets tightly. "Gods sweetheart... Your mouth was made for sucking my dick."
Your eyes roll back into your head as you take him all the way into your mouth. His dick is deep in your throat. Tears well up in your eyes. You want to gag, but you try your hardest to suppress it. He feels your throat convulse around his cock. He runs a hand through his hair. You’re gonna make him cum too soon. Your tongue massages the thick vein on his cock, making his cock twitch in my mouth. You begin to bob your head up and down on his cock. “Oh..shit-“
His eyes roll back as you deepthroat him perfectly. His hand in your hair tightens slightly as he guides your movements, fucking his length into your mouth with gentle thrusts. Pre-cum leaks heavily down your throat as you begin to suck and fondle his balls. "Baby doll...jus’ like that."
Tears roll down your face. You gag slightly as his cock hits the back of your throat. Your nails dig into his meaty thighs. You look up at him, teary eyed. He looks down at you and throws his head back with a loud moan. You put your hand between your thighs and begin to rub your clit with your fingers. You moan around his cock.
He watches your fingers disappear between your legs. He sees the way your pouty lips are wrapped around his length, the way you gag on his thick dick. He watches as your fingers move quickly over your clit. He realizes you’re getting yourself off while sucking him. "Fucking pervert. Getting off on sucking my dick." he spits out. It makes chill bumps raise on his skin.
You move to position myself on his lower leg. As you suck his cock and begin to rut your pussy against his shin. You’re moaning constantly around his cock. You rock back and forth, on his cock and his shin. Your pussy drags deliciously against his skin.
He has never seen something so erotic in his entire life. You're essentially riding his leg while sucking his dick like a porn star. His balls draw up tightly, getting close to coming. "Baby... fuck... you’re gonna make me cum down your throat..." His voice is strained.
You knod. You want him to cum down your throat. He can feel you quicken your rutting against his leg. Your eyebrows furrow with pleasure. Your eyes rolling back into your head. You let out a loud moan around his cock. You take his cock all the way in your mouth again, your nose in his pubes.
Your deep throating skills have him seeing stars. He’s got a tight grip on your hair now, pulling you back and forth on his cock now. His hips snap slightly, feeding you his length. "Baby wait..." *He warns softly, getting close. With a loud groan, he cums hard down your throat. His large hand presses the back of your head gently, keeping you in place as he empties himself into your eager mouth. He pulls you down further, choking you slightly on his length as he finishes coming. He runs his hand through his hair with his other hand. He smiles sadistically down at you.
You brace yourself on his muscular thighs. Your nails slightly digging into his skin. Tears roll down your cheeks as the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. You gag slightly.
He slowly pulls you off his cock, letting you catch your breath. He watches as you wipe your mouth, his release leaking out of the sides of your lips. He reaches down, gently wiping the tears from your cheeks with his thumb. "Come here."
You crawl over him. You lay ontop of him, both of your bare bodies pressed together. You kiss his neck. Your kisses travel from his collar bone to his jaw. My hands travel the sides of your torso, feeling your muscles beneath. He wraps his arms around you possessively, his large hands move to your ass. They grope the supple flesh. He kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth hungrily. He can feel your hands mapping out his abs, and it turns him on even more. "I wanna be inside you.." he slurs against your lips. One of his hands move to play with your hair, tucking a few strands behind your ear.
You feel your stomach twist in knots and your heart skip a beat. You kiss him one more time. You can feel his hardening cock against your ass. You swallow hard wondering if he’ll fit. You sit up and then slide back over him, holding yourself above him. You reach back and rub his cock against your slit, covering it in your slick.
He groans deeply, his hands gripping your hips tightly as you rub his hardening length against your pussy. He looks up at you, his dark eyes filled with desire. He watches as your hair falls around his face, the strands tickling his skin. He rolls his hips impatiently "Put it in sweetheart.." he commands, his voice husky with need.
“How impatient..” You smile down at him. “I’ve waited centuries for this. Go on.” you push the tip into yourself. You whine as his thick head stretches you open. He groans, his grip on yourself hips punishing. You lay your head onto his neck. You breathe against his ear sending shivers down his spine. “fuck..mark..” You moan out as his cock pushes deeper. He hisses as your tight pussy engulfs his thick head. His hips buck upwards instinctively, pushing another inch into your warmth. He wraps his arms around you tightly, holding you close as he feels your body tense around him. "Relax baby... breathe.." he murmurs against your ear, placing gentle kisses on your neck.
When his cock is fully inside of you, you let out a deep breath that you’ve been holding. You feel so full, your pussy is filled to the brim with him. It’s all so intoxicating. His scent is thick throughout the room, you can’t escape it. All you see, feel, and smell is him. You give an experimental roll with your hips and you moan out. Your hands are in his hair and on his jaw as you kiss him. He moans at the sensation of your hips rolling against him. His hands move to your ass from your hips, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. He gives you a small slap. It stings for only a moment. He kisses you back passionately, his tongue exploring your mouth as he begins to thrust his hips upwards slowly, filling you completely with each thrust. "Let me do it babygirl..”
“mark-“ You moan out as he begins to thrust faster inside of you. You grip his shoulders, your nails slightly digging into his skin. “Mark! please!” It’s so overwhelming. He’s so overwhelming. He feels your nails dig into his skin and it only turns him on more. He’s tried to keep his more sadistic side packed away. You’re not ready for that yet. He thrusts into you harder, his hips snapping up with each pump. He grabs your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck to him. "Goddamn.. your fucking pussy is perfect.." he flips you over, your thighs rest over his. his hand goes to your throat, applying slight pressure. It takes you a bit by surprise. He’s studying your reaction, seeing if you can take it. His dark eyes bore into yours.
You arch your back against the sheets now, one of your hands gripping them. Your breasts move with his thrusts. I wrap my arms around your neck and bring you in for a kiss. His hand on your throat moves to your jaw, holding you. My tongue clashes with yours. “Feels good.. mngh” He deepens the kiss, swallowing your moans as he continues to pound into you mercilessly. He reaches down, gripping your thigh and lifting it up over his shoulder, allowing him to go even deeper inside of you. "Such a perfect pussy.." He breaks the kiss to bite and suck on your neck roughly.
This new position makes him feel deeper inside you. You furrow your eyebrows as he hits a new depth inside of your pussy. “Shit mark!..” You moan out. Your nails dig into his skin again but they barely make a mark on his viltrumite skin. Your walls spasm and squeeze his thick cock. He lets out a deep groan at the sensation of your walls spasming around him. His hips stall momentarily before picking up speed again, chasing that pleasure. “you feel me hm?..” He presses dow on your lower stomach. He kisses you deeply again, swallowing another moan before pulling back slightly to watch where you’re both connected.
“Fuck.. yes” You groan out. He grabs your hand and puts it on your lower stomach. You can feel his dick thrusting inside of you. It feels like he stops just below your belly button. The feeling makes you clench around him tightly. He groans loudly at the feeling of you clenching around him so tightly. He keeps his hand pressed down on your lower stomach, his fingers spreading out over the large round bulge. He pushes down slightly as he thrusts up, hitting your g spot repeatedly.
He moves his thumb to your clit. He runs in slow circles. You feel the coil in your stomach begin to build. “Keep- going mark!..” Your sentences are broken up by moans. He leans down once again kissing you roughly. Your teeth clashing, tongues dueling. His hand moves to grip your hair tightly, tilting your head back to deepen the kiss. He starts moving faster, harder. "Cum on my dick Baby..."
“I’m gonna-“ You moan out loudly before clenching hard around his dick. He groans out. My back is arched off my bed and my eyes are rolled back into my head. Your hands scratch down his back again, not making a dent. Feeling you clenching around him like a vice, he lets out a deep groan as he feels your orgasm milking him, your walls fluttering violently around his length. He keeps pounding into you through your climax, chasing his own release. "Fuck yes..." His hand on your clit moves to your thigh on his shoulder. He then lifts the other one to his other shoulder, folding you in half. The breath is knocked out of you as he puts you into a mating press.
“Mark!” Tears drip down my cheeks as you start to get overstimulated. His hips slam against you, lewd wet sounds from your pussy fill the room. Your pussy squeezes tighter around him, gripping onto his length. You bite your lip hard. You feel his cock twitch inside of you and you moan out his name again. This position is rough, animalistic in nature.
The feeling of your bite and hearing your overstimulated moans sends him over the edge. He buries his face in your neck, biting down hard. His hips jerk forwards, pushing his entire length deep inside you over and over. “Where do you want me babydoll?” He groans into your ear.
“Inside mark!”
He feels your pussy clamp down on him like a vice and he can't hold back any longer. He buries himself deep inside you, his release bursting out of him in powerful pulses. He holds you tightly against him as he empties himself completely, filling you up with his seed. "i’m gonna breed you full of my babies..” He mumbles. You barely hear it through your sex drunk state.
“Shit!” You cum again once you feel his load fill your pussy. Your vision gets blurry and begins to go dark. Your oragasms were so intense you’re beginning to pass out. Your eyes close and you go limp underneath him. His cum begins to leak out of your cunt.
He holds you tightly against him, feeling your body go limp from the intense orgasms. He continues to thrust slowly inside you, milking every last drop of cum into your pussy. Seeing it leak out makes him harden again immediately. “Baby?..” *He whispers kissing your forehead gently. He smiles, chuckling at your state. He feels up your body worshipping you a bit more. His hands run up your ribs, then move down to your ass, squeezing. “You’re mine..he’ll never have you. Not again.”
.
.
.
“y/n?” Mark comes in through your front door. It had been a few days since the “apocalypse” of his variant ravaging the city. He slowly stalks through your house, eventually making it to your room. His eyes widen at the open window, your curtains flowing with the wind. He walks to your bed and sees a note.. from his sinister variant. It reads..
“I fucked your “best friend” real good. Her pussy is so full of my seed she won’t be walking for a week. She’ll be round with my young soon. Good luck trying to find her and get her back.”— signed your better version.
Meanwhile, the original Mark reads the note, his face contorting with anger and jealousy. “What the fuck?!”
.
.
.
A/N: Hey! Sorry this is so late. I just didn’t have the motivation to write over christmas break. I hope y’all come back and read this and hopefully.. like it! 😅 If this gets about 100 likes i might continue this idk 🤷
areudirty
annaxmalina
snowghoul
blakekathryn
gummygunk