PAIRING: dick grayson x suffering from toxic bf! reader
SUMMARY dick grayson is your good friend (not best, but good friend), and what kind of good friend would he be if he let you be so sexually frustrated because of your loser boyfriend?
CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ CONTENT, rough sex, cheating, reader cheats on their boyfriend with dick, filthy talk, sex tapes, pussy worship, big dick! dick grayson, hair pulling (dick! receiving), cum play, dick loves you.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: meow. I love dick so damn much. this was initally went from a jason todd to a wally west fic, but this always screamed dick grayson to me as I wrote it so it's for him! just re-wrote it ten thousand times. I'll write for jason and wally soon anyway.
dick grayson was a good friend— he wasn’t your best friend, but he wasn’t a distant friend either. he was one of your good friends… and he definitely wanted the best for you. you guys met at a nightclub in downtown gotham, and your friend groups meshed together pretty well… and it helps one of your best friends began to date tim.
he knew you a lot better than other people. you two mutually knew each other’s interests and your each other’s accomplishments and problems, and dick certainly knew one of your problems; a big one too.
your shitty boyfriend was the big problem.
he didn’t care about you, often leaving you alone for his friends and for his alcohol. dick didn’t know why you stayed, but you used the excuse of “when he’s good, it’s absolute heaven… he’s not that bad.”
he constantly mistreats you and you couldn’t seem to leave, no matter how many times you’d tell dick and your other friends you’d leave him. he’d make you so mad and so pissed, making you question yourself every fucking argument, but he made you feel so good when he was. it’s a toxic mess you couldn’t get out of.
dick couldn’t stand you being so mad… so what’s so bad about a good friend helping out another friend’s sexual frustration?
you were already on edge by the time dick found himself in your apartment. your boyfriend left you close to your orgasm but never made you finish (and only focused on his own dick), leaving you high and dry and looking for another source of an orgasm.
it just helps that you found yourself in dick grayson's warmth.
he comforted you, telling you everything you needed to here… his biceps strongly holding onto you, with your ass directly over his crotch, and things just seemingly happened from there.
soon enough, you are on your back, hair sprawled on your pillows with dick pounding his thick eight inches into your pussy, your hands yanking on his black hair. “feel good? feel better than that piece of shit? he never gave this pussy any love, didn’t he?”
you nod, your eyes rolled back into your skull. just a few thrusts in and you felt like this. he never made you feel this good. “oh yesssss, so— so much better… so good, ohhhhh… never- never made me feel good! fuck!!”
he nipped at your neck, biting down on your shoulder as he thrusted quicker, your nails dragging down his back. he kept your legs wrapped around his hips, heels dug into his lower back. he had a stamina that your boyfriend never had.
“it sucks… it really does.” dick begins, his thick cock stretching your walls perfectly, like you were made for him. “he lost this gorgeous fucking pussy… oh well, his loss.”
he’s such a cocky bitch; it’s irritating but it felt so fucking good. you moaned at his words and how his thick cock fucked you. the fantasies of dick never stopped, even during sex with your boyfriend. dick always had a way about him that made him irresistible. it’s no wonder why he has such a man-whore reputation, he’s amazing in every way, and he’s able to back it up with no doubts; hero in the sheets and a sex god in the sheets.
“definitely… h-his loss… oh dick!” you whine, drool slightly leaving your mouth as his tip kisses your g-spot.
his right hand moved down your body, his fingertips pressing against your clit. he moved his hand in circles at the same time of his thrusts, knowing your puffy cunt needed attention. he couldn’t help himself, he wanted to please you in every way. it’s both the pride dick had, and the desire to make you feel damn good.
“…I got you, sweetheart. I’ll take good care of you… don’t you worry that pretty little head.” he coo’s, his tone almost patronizing in the best way possible. “how did you not tell me ‘bout your problems before, pretty girl? would’ve loved to fuck this pussy so much sooner…”
he leans over as he continues to fuck you and rub your pussy, grabbing your phone and opening the camera app with his left hand, biting his tongue slightly. he places the phone on the bed as he grabs your right hand, fingers around your wrist as he forces open your hand. grabbing the phone and placing it in your hand, pressing the record button.
he smiles and waves at the camera. “oh! hey man! look at your woman!” he says to the camera, tilting your flushed face with his left hand to look at the camera. “this is how you fuck a girl… not whatever you had going on.”
your face burned scarlet red as you stared at the phone, looking at how dick fucked your pussy. you liked it, liked how dick acted, his cocky arrogant way of proving himself, even if it meant fucking a taken woman. he pulls you closer to your orgasm as he rubs your pussy.
“oh fuck… p-please dick… oh fuckkkk, dick!” your voice lets out, drool falling down your chin as your hand holding the phone shakes.
dick stables your wrist, holding it as he rubs your pussy. you looked absolutely amazing like this, and knowing it’s all on recording felt so good. “i’m taking care of her… she’s fine with me, man, don’t you worry…” he says, spreading out your folds and letting a swab of spit fall from his lips and into your inner folds. “not like you knew how to fuck your bitch anyway.” he shrugs.
“oh fuck! dick!” you could only moan at his words, not even caring in the slightest at him calling you a ‘bitch’ in this moment.
you’d backhand him later on though, and he’d apologize.
it’s a shame, really, that an argument with your boyfriend finally got you to finally fuck dick, even after all his flirting. you were practically addicted to him after one time… it’s intoxicating. your fingers dug into his shoulders, your hand still recording you two.
you look at the camera, moaning loudly. “o-oh fuck, ‘m sorry… ‘m sorry honey, he’s just so good… oh fuck, dick!”
he shakes his head as he hears you apologize to your boyfriend over the phone… you definitely didn’t feel sorry with how dick's thick cock felt in your pussy, but you couldn’t care.
his blue eyes looked at the camera again. “y’know you’re doing something wrong my guy if another guy needs to make your girl cum… maybe get a few lessons in how to fuck a girl right then you won’t have issues like this.” he says, looking at the camera as he licks your collarbone, thrusting harder.
he grabs the phone from your hand, letting your hand do whatever you wanted as he holds the phone in his right hand, flipping it so it focuses on your body, his cock disappearing in and out of your folds. “see this man?” he asks the camera, zooming in on your pussy. “this is how you fuck a pussy.”
you sob as his cock drags against your walls, your nails digging into his broad shoulders. you couldn’t care about the phone, even if he does send it in the end, but you couldn’t care.
“oh fuck, d-dick… your’s… all your’s.” you moan, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull. “I-I’m close dick, ‘m so close…”
he’s got you exactly where he wants; pussy stuffed with his dick, recording a sex tape that may or may not be sent to your boyfriend at the end of the night, and overwhelmed with his love and his massive cock.
“damn right you’re mine.” he says, chuckling as he goes faster. he smiles behind the camera, glancing the camera up and zooming the camera in on your face. “one time getting my dick and your girl already obsessed…” he says, mainly to the camera.
your face flushes as you grind against him, becoming closer and closer to the edge as he fucks deeper, your fingers pulling at the back of his head.
dick smiles as you grind against him, fucking you harder with the phone in his right hand, his left hand pressing on your abdomen. he knows damn well how close you are, leaning the phone up and zooming in on your face, capturing how your eyes roll back, face flushed and drool leaving your mouth.
“say my name, pretty girl… that’s all you need to do… say your daddy’s name…” he says lowly, purposely pushing his tip deeper.
you look at him, again not caring about the camera (or about dick calling himself 'daddy' of all names) as you scratch down his chest. “d-dick! dick! oh fuck, so good.”
he nods approvingly, pointing the camera down to not only show his cock fucking your pussy but also your nails dragging down his chest. “there you go. its quite simple how to fuck your girl right… follow what she asks you to do and she’ll do what you want her to do.” he says to the camera, talking to the boyfriend who will eventually see the tape. “oh well, you lost her before you could realize that…”
one more look into his blue eyes and a drag of his cock is all you need. “cum for me baby, fucking cum all over me, I don’t care, cum on my dick…”
that’s all you needed to hear; your toes curl, your body shakes and a convulsing mess as you cum, reaching your peak. your vision turned white as you dig deep in his skin, grinding against him as you cum all over him.
his cock continues to thrust in and out, filming your orgasm as he switches from focusing on your pussy to her face. “there you go… good girl… you’re such a good girl, yknow?”
your orgasm hits hard as your back arches, his name going off your lips over and over again, slowly losing strength and coherent thoughts as he makes you go over the edge. soon enough, your eyes roll back to normal, staring at him with half-lidded eyes, a slightly open mouth and moans leaving your mouth.
“oh dick… dick… fuck…” you moan low, looking at him and not even paying attention to the camera.
“tell me…” he says, going a little faster in order to hit his peak right now, the camera shaking as he makes the camera watch him fuck your wet pussy, his dark pubic hair glistening with your fluids. “tell me where you want my cum…”
you look at him, delirious and so cock-drunk as you speak. “anywhere… anywhere but ‘in…” you slur your words, mouth full of moans, leaning your head back and just enjoying the overstimulation. "...'m not on the pill... 'ran out... never had to use it because he never made me f-finish..."
he smiles— it faltered a little when you mentioned how your boyfriend, hopefully ex boyfriend, failed to make you cum but he doesn’t quit. he pulls his cock out, stroking the eight inches with his left hand so fast, his thumb pressing against the vein on his cock as his balls clench, finally reaching his own high as strings of hot cum spurt from his red tip and onto your abdomen, cock twitching as each rope shoots out.
you moan as his hot cum spurts all over your abdomen, your head looking down as you see your abdomen be covered with white. “dick…”
he lowered his left hand, using his pointer finger to paint something on your abdomen, using his own cum, the camera capturing it; d.g
“there you go…” he says, flipping the camera to his face, giving the camera a shitty thumbs up, hair damp, sweat dripping down the side of his face and a shit eating grin is on his face. “next time you fuck a woman, make sure you actually listen.”
finally, he ended the video, with the video finalizing and sitting pretty in your photo album. your legs are spread out, cum all over you (both yours and his), heavily breathing and feeling so much better than you did when he came into the apartment.
“you want me to send it to your boyfriend or nah?” he asks, looking at you as he holds your phone, rubbing your thigh softly.
you nod your head, running a hand through your hair. “yes… send it to him…” you say.
he cocks an eyebrow. “you sure? or is this your dicktimized brain talking?” he asks, making sure you won’t do something you regret. “cause he’s the worst person to send this to…” he warns again.
not knowing if it was your brain being so dumbed down by dick grayson’s dick, or the feeling of just defeat when it came to your soon to be ex boyfriend, you nod again. “I’m sure… send it to him, show him.”
with a brighter smile than a kid on christmas, he goes into the phone and presses your boyfriends contact…
after a moment, he puts the phone down. he lowers himself and presses a kiss on your lips. “wanna go again? or nah? your pussy too fucked after one round?”
you kiss him back, running your fingers through his black locks, sweaty and completely limp. “would you leave if I said another one?”
“not at all.” he says, beginning to kiss your jaw…
…
boyfriend 🙄
baby
speak to me.
where are u????
im sorry and I know u know that.
i’m sorry, baby, please.
can u get over urself and come back? ur so fucking dramatic istg
you 🤍
yooo, what’s up dude, here catch!
*attachment: 1 video*
u don’t know me, but ur girl’s pussy definitely knows me.
hope you have a great rest of your night, cause
I’m having a nice night with ur girl in my arms!
thanks for fumbling 🤪
boyfriend 🙄
what the fuck???
you 🤍
sorry not sorry
your girl is choking on my dick as we speak!
didn’t tell her to btw, she wanted to do it
want a video of that? cause I can give it to u
sorry not sorry if it seems so sloppy, I’m ovulating and dick grayson is all I want rn so…. 😶🌫️
dick is a little bit of an asshole in this one but fuck it, we ball! he’s even better when he’s caring but so damn cocky 🤤 dick would definitely make sex tapes, fight with the wall. don’t know what’s next for dick, but soon! maybe submissive dick next!
SUMMARY: you’re hanging out with your best friend, wally, and turns out, his best friend is also there! cue your mouth and your pussy being filled up in the best ways possible. (or, you, dick, and wally have a threesome)
CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ CONTENT, threesomes, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (wrap it!), oral sex (m! receiving), choking, overstimulation to the max, hair pulling, filthy talk— seriously, this is filthy, cum swallowing, praise kink, they kiss while they eiffel tower you.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: they’re so fucking hot, I just couldn’t resist. I didn’t know if this should’ve been a double penetration oneshot but that one will be soon! trust! sorry if the reader doesn’t really talk this much… when you read what happens, then you’d understand why, lmao.
you didn’t know how you ended up in this position; on your back, legs up, jaw open. but here you are, and your brain is too scattered to even think about the full timeline… but you attempt to.
very simply— wally wanted to hang out with you, “spend the night!” he says, and turns out? dick was there too, mainly because wally invited him too (you begin to think he purposely wanted both of you). you didn’t hate that you were attracted to your best friend’s best friend, it just felt weird, but god damn dick is a sexy man.
and what happens when three sexy people are in the same room together? clothes disappear and filth is muttered. and now? you’re here, on your back, brain completely mushed up by these two guys.
wally was standing by your head, dick was in between your legs. wally’s dick was longer but dick’s cock was thicker, and you could feel the difference.
“which one do you want filled first?” wally asks you, his right hand stroking his cock with a few jerks as his left hand reaches down to squeeze your left breast, dick moved your legs onto his shoulders as he lines up with your folds.
you groan, his fingers feeling so good on you as dick’s hands squeezed your thighs. having four different hands on your figure… you could feel your body temperature rise with each touch, each damn finger. “I-I don’t care… just get in me d-damn it.”
dick chuckles, squeezing your thigh a little harsher. you gasp as he squeezes your thigh but also you feel wally twist your nipple. “okay, okay, baby, no need for the attitude.” he shoots back, looking at wally as he tilts his head. “you go first, walls, shut that pretty mouth.”
“don’t tell me to shut—” you begin to say before you get cut off.
not by words, not by a squeeze. but rather by wally’s long cock pushing into your mouth. he doesn’t go all the way with his eight inches, around four inches as you gargle. drool drips down your chin as your head tilts back, looking up at the redhead as he shushes you. his hand on your breast going up to your jaw, stroking your chin.
“there you go.” he coos, pushing in the last four inches, his messy orange happy trail faintly tickling against your chin. you’re forced to breath through your nose as the bulbous tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. “christ baby, didn’t know you could fit all ‘me in your mouth.” he mutters.
dick’s grin never fades, his thumbs stroking up and down your inner thighs as he kisses your ankle. his right hand stroking your thigh as his left hand reaches up to gently caress your right breast. “got a mouth worth millions, baby.” he encourages, his left thumb rubs circles to harden your nipple.
with his left hand on your jaw, wally points to dick. “c’mon man… no fair you’re not having fun.” he somberly says, looking back down at you. “you want dick’s dick in you, baby?” he asks, tapping on the underside of your jaw to make you answer.
it takes you a few moments, swallowing your spit the best you can before you nod. “y-yes! f-fucking hell, please—!” your begs are muffled due to wally’s long cock.
but they hear it anyway.
wally looks back up at dick with a smirk. “well, you heard the lady of the hour.” he insinuated.
the birdboy grins and doesn’t take any other words or moments before he presses his tip against your sobbing pussy, pushing into you. fuck fuck fuck. he’s so thick. shit. if you thought you couldn’t breath (in the best way) because of wally’s dick in your mouth, now you couldn’t with dick’s dick in your pussy.
your eyes roll back the moment his cock begins to push into you, your toes curl as your left set of nails dug deep into whatever section of wally’s left arm your nails could find as your right hand gripped wally’s best sheets. “nghhhh.”
“holy shit, sweet girl.” dick groans, his right hand going onto your abdomen, feeling himself push into you as his left hand held onto your calf. “you feel so damn good… fuck.” he looks up at wally, who’s grinning at the sight. “dude, you gotta get some of this.” he says to him.
why is it so hot when they speak to you like this? it shouldn’t. really. but it just is.
wally shrugs, feeling your nose brush against his balls. “don’t worry, I’ll get her pussy later, this mouth feels too damn good.” he suggests. “this pretty body, my god baby.” he groans, looking at your body with lust in his eyes.
your eyes remained rolled back as your breaths through your nose blows onto the underside of wally’s cock, your pussy fluttering against dick’s as he settles his thick cock into you.
and before you knew it, you could feel both of their hips move, both pulling out of their respective places before thrusting back in, dick was harsher with his thrust— with that thrust, he pushed you upwards, making it easier for wally to push back into your mouth. “w-wally! d-dick!”
it feels so damn good, and pleasure shoots through your veins as both of them begin to move their hips at the same time. dick was a little faster than wally, groaning with each flutter of your pussy as wally caressed your jaw, pushing in and out of your warm throat.
your moans fill the room— or the best they could leave your stuffed mouth. they were high pitched, drool causing a mess as your fingers claws at both of their forearms, one above your head as the other sat on your abdomen.
“seal those lips ‘round me baby.” wally encourages, and you listen to him. it’s so slick in your mouth, your lips sealing around his cock as wally murmurs a praise, seeing you hallow out your cheeks with each time his cock hit the back of your throat.
“you’re such a good girl.” dick praises lowly, his hips rutting with each slow thrust. you love the praises, it makes you feel good inside and your brain melt a little more.
dick moved his left hand, sucking on his thumb before putting it on your clit, stroking up and down. a bigger moan leaves your mouth as your heels dig into dick’s shoulder. “does this pussy want it faster?” he asks.
when you’re so stuffed that you’re unable respond; the redhead does it for you. wally grins as he says a suggestion. “fuck her pussy deeper, I’m sure she can take it, she’s a big girl.”
dick smirks and follows wally’s words, especially after feeling your walls clench around him as he adjusts his posture, pressing both hands into the mattress on each side of you as he angles himself lower, and where he hits? fucking. delicious.
your moans vibrate wally’s cock, mentally grinning to yourself as you see how he’s affected by it. one of the best sensations he’s ever felt, feeling it from his base as he goes a little quicker but not too much, not wanting to hurt you.
the acrobat notices wally’s eyes roll back at your moans making his cock feel like heaven itself, he leans closer, sweat padding down his face. “what’s the matter, lightning bolt? I do something good for once?”
“shut it.” wally mutters, leaning close to dick as they keep eye contact with each other. “keep moaning f’us baby, keep that pretty mouth up.” he blindly praises as he taps your jaw.
you groan as he taps on your jaw, your lips sucking harder on wally’s cock, tongue sliding up and down the underside of him. it feels so good. you’ve never felt so good.
and before either of the former titans could stop, their lips press together, both of their hips going faster in you. wally’s lips are warm while dick’s lips are cold, their tongue pressing together.
wally’s left hand moves off your jaw and down to your clit and in return, dick’s right hand moves out of the sheets and wraps around your throat, feeling wally’s dick in your throat.
“christ dude.” he murmurs against wally’s lips. “knew you were long but not this fucking long. this fits in your suit?”
wally shrugs, hitting the back of your throat constantly with each push of his hips. “it helps that I’m a grower.” he chuckles as he can feel his balls tighten.
dick’s lips go to wally’s jaw, pressing sloppy kisses as he increases his thrusts within your pussy, your moans are too broken and your mouth is too stuffed. you can feel your vision whiten, it’s all so overwhelming— in the best ways you could even imagine.
“look at this pussy, taking him so well, knew this pussy was amazin’.” wally slurs, patting your clit before he rubs tight circles. your hips jerk, your pussy flutters, and you’re so close to cumming. “you close, dick? cause holy shit, ‘m not gonna last in this pretty girl’s mouth.”
dick nods, pressing his thumb into your throat. “yeah— so close… gonna cum… fuck.” he groans.
and somehow, someway, all three of you finished together, as if you all knew each other’s minds too well to argue. and nothing could compare or even warn you to the feeling you felt.
wally pushed back his cock only by a few inches, not wanting to overwhelm the back of your throat as dick thrusted in as deep as he could get, down to the base of his cock to the point his balls rubbed against your pussy. your veins overflowed with pleasure, nails dug deep to the point your hand lost color and you drew blood from both of the boys as you orgasm.
“wally, fuckkkkk—dick…!” you slur as your body strains, knees bending harshly on dick’s shoulders as you feel your body get overwhelmed with so much rapture.
for a few moments, you feel like you’re in heaven, your body feeling so damn good, mind ruined by such a explosive orgasm. you feel limp against them, you feel wally’s hand stop rubbing your clit as you cummed around dick’s cock, slobbering on wally’s cock as your vision finds itself back. “ugh… fuck…”
then, you felt it. your pussy being warmed up with dick’s cum as his semen painted your walls white. you felt sticky, his cum pushing deep within you as he stroked your throat, gently grinding against you to get his semen deeper. “fuckkkk, sweet girl, pussy feels so damn good. take my cum like this… knew you could take it.” he groans, looking at wally as wally pulls out, his cock straining.
you keep your eyes on wally as he looks at you with furrowed eyebrows and needy eyes. “open. open your mouth baby.”
and the damn second you opened your mouth, before your tongue could fully extend, his cum landed in your mouth, eventually spreading onto your tongue. not only your pussy felt warm and sticky, but now your mouth.
wally cums a lot more than dick, because dick finishes harder than wally. ropes and ropes of cum shoots out as you took every single inch, dick’s pupils blown as he watches the sight in front of him, his hand keeping your mouth open.
moments after; you swallow all of wally’s cum, you feel it stick to the back of your throat as dick lets down your legs off his shoulders, your hands leaving their forearms as they fall to the bed.
wally moves his cock once his balls feel empty, his breaths heavy. “and you were hiding your mouth this entire time, baby?”
with your mouth empty, you’re able to respond as you lean up, legs spread as dick’s semen dripped out of your folds. “well you two hid your dicks from me so…”
dick grins and wally smirks and you knew you weren’t getting any sleep that night. not like you wanted any sleep with these guys next to you.
this idea has been gnawing at my mind for a while and finally decided to write it. I love them both so much, they’d be so good in bed, I need them both!
Case notes: Aged up!Damian, established relationship
A/N: Here is a short fic/bullet point fic (?), while I finish my Jason Todd x Veronica Sawyer!reader fic. That will be properly written promise!
Arguing with Damian Wayne would include:
Not much yelling but more sharp, hurtful, condescending words. Damian is prideful and believes he is better and smarter than everyone else due to his upbringing (ahem, Bruce). He will rarely yell because it is "childish" but he will certainly make you feel stupid. Of course he doesn't mean it, but sometimes his emotions would get the best of him. Causing Damian to act and speak irrationally.
"TT, I do not expect you to understand the situation. Afterall, how can you? But I do expect you to listen. Unfortunately, you don't do that well either"
You both go to bed simmering with frustration. No cuddles, no talking, and goodnight's. Just turned backs and the darkness of the room guiding you both to an unpeaceful slumber.
The next morning, guilt would eat Damian alive, but his pride, still holding strong, refuses to apologize. The morning is silent and filled with tension so heavy, Superman himself could not push it away. Translation: Hardcore silent treatment from both parties.
Still, you two coexist in your shared apartment. Damian staying attentive to your needs and you to his, even without verbal communication.
Can't grab a mug from a particularly high shelf? Damian grabs it for you without hesitation.
A fitted sheet needs folding and Damian can't for the life of him figure it out? You do it for him.
Frustrated with a certain task? Damian will help always. Even without saying a word.
It is the same in public. Sure Damian won't hold your hand, but he will still stay close, keeping to the sidewalk rule, and ready to protect you at any given moment. He pulls up a chair for you, offers you the extra hair tie on his wrist when the winds happen to be stubborn that day, he helps you with your bags, and overall keeps an eye on you.
Because in your relationship, regardless of the status, partners never abandon each other.
Jealousy. Oh so much jealousy. The possessiveness in the relationship gets cranked up to 100%. While you both aren't on speaking terms, the two of you still very much love each other. When stranger comes up to you for directions in the street, it's instant glaring from Damian. And the jealousy isn't just from him, but from you as well. When a woman comes up to your boyfriend for a photo, inquiries, or worse, his number, you instantly take his hand in yours.
Strangely, that becomes the first stage in rebuilding the gap your argument has created.
You both walk around the streets hand in hand in this spiky bubble where nobody dares to come near. The hostile energy around you both practically radiates a big red sign that says, "DO NOT BOTHER." You are grumpy, he is grumpy, but at least you are grumpy together.
When the day ends, Damian and you forget what the fight was about. Tragically, all the energy was spent on getting irritated and keeping quiet that none was left to apologize properly. Instead, you both eat, shower, and settle in the covers and doze off. However this time, Damian's arms find your waist, spooning you to sleep. He will apologize in the morning once he regains energy. Maybe even make breakfast for you if he wakes up early enough. For now, your body against his is enough. He stares at the ceiling thinking,
"What were we so upset about again?"
Before finally dozing off.
A/N: I will probably make a part 2 where they forgive each other bc I love you guys and I know we can't leave these two lovebirds angry forever. Also thinking about making this "scenario" type fanfic a thing so my blog won't be empty while I write my more serious fics. Wdyt?
i’m not sure if you talk requests but i may i ask for mark with a sensitive/crybaby lover? If you don’t take requests please do ignore this! I love your writing tho!!
hello anon! I'm not confident in doing requests, so no… requests are not open… but here is something for you 🤍 thank you so much for reading
mark grayson with a sensitive lover
cw. praise, crying, overstimulation, cuddling.
mark learns very quickly that you cry when it feels good.
not in a hurt way. never in a hurt way.
it’s always that pretty, overwhelmed kind of crying, where your lashes clump together and your lips part around soft little sounds you try so hard to keep quiet. you get embarrassed every time, turning your face into the pillow or covering your mouth like you can hide from him, like mark doesn’t know every sound you make by heart.
“baby,” he murmurs, voice low against your ear. “don’t hide from me.”
you whimper, fingers gripping at his shoulders. “i can’t help it.”
“i know.” his mouth brushes your cheek, catching the tear there with a kiss. “that’s why i like it.”
that makes you squeeze your eyes shut, your whole body going warm beneath him.
mark groans softly, dropping his forehead to yours. “there you go,” he whispers. “you’re so sensitive, huh?”
you nod before you can stop yourself, breath hitching when his hand slides down your side, slow and possessive, holding your hip like he’s grounding you. keeping you there with him. keeping you from floating too far into all that feeling.
“talk to me,” he says, kissing under your jaw. “too much?”
you shake your head quickly.
his thumb strokes your hip. “baby” he firmly says, dick pushing impossibly deeper when his hips ground into you.
“no,” you breathe. “not too much.”
“good girl.”
the praise hits you worse than anything else.
your eyes fill again, and mark sees it immediately. of course he does. he always does. his expression softens, even though his breathing is rough, even though his hair is messy and his cheeks are flushed and he looks like he’s barely holding himself together.
“oh, sweetheart,” he says, almost teasing. almost fond. “that’s all it takes?”
you cover your face with both hands, mortified. “mark…”
he laughs quietly, but there’s no cruelty in it. only warmth. only affection. he catches your wrists and pulls your hands away, pinning them gently beside your head.
“no, don’t do that.” his mouth finds yours, slow and deep. “let me see you.”
you melt beneath him, helpless to the way he kisses you like he has all the time in the world, like there isn’t a whole city outside that might need saving, like there isn’t anything more important than making sure you feel loved while he has you like this.
every slow roll of his hips makes your breath break.
every murmured “that’s it” makes your thighs tremble.
and mark, unfairly attentive mark, notices exactly what makes you gasp. exactly when your nails dig into his back. exactly when your body starts getting too tense, too overwhelmed, too close.
“you’re doing so well,” he whispers.
your lip trembles.
“mark, please.”
“i’ve got you.” he kisses your forehead, then your nose, then your mouth. “i’ve got you, baby. you can cry. i don’t mind.”
that breaks you a little.
the tears slip down your cheeks before you can stop them, and mark groans like the sight ruins him. his grip tightens just slightly, not enough to hurt, just enough to remind you that he’s there. solid. warm. yours.
“so pretty like this,” he murmurs. “all sweet for me.”
you make a sound that barely resembles his name, clinging to him as the pleasure builds too fast, too hot, too much. your body shakes, and mark slows just enough to keep you with him, his voice soft and steady in your ear.
“breathe for me.”
you try.
“that’s it. good girl.” his lips brush your temple. “you’re okay. i’m right here.”
you come with a sob caught in your throat, your face pressed into his neck, and mark holds you through all of it. he doesn’t stop talking. doesn’t stop kissing you. doesn’t stop telling you how good you are, how pretty you sound, how much he loves feeling you fall apart for him.
after, when you’re limp and warm and trying to hide again, he doesn’t let you get far.
he gathers you into his chest, one hand smoothing over your back while the other cradles the side of your face.
“hey,” he says softly. “look at me.”
you peek up at him, embarrassed and teary.
mark smiles like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen.
“you're so pretty, baby.”
you pout. “i cried again.”
“yeah,” he says, brushing his thumb beneath your eye. “you did.”
“that’s embarrassing.”
“no, it’s not.”
“you’re just saying that.”
“i’m really not.” he kisses you softly. “i like knowing you feel safe enough with me.”
your chest aches at that, tender and full.
mark tucks you under his chin, arms wrapping around you carefully, like he could crush mountains but would rather spend the rest of his life being gentle with you.
“besides,” he adds, voice dipping into something teasing, “you’re cute when you cry.”
you smack his chest weakly.
he laughs and catches your hand, kissing your knuckles.
“mean,” you mumble.
“crazy about you,” he corrects.
and because you’re sensitive, because you’re soft, because mark always knows exactly how to make your heart spill over—you cry a little again.
thank you :)) im glad you took the time to read my fics and like it it really means a lot!
i will eventually get back to writing more ive just been pretty busy and unfortunately ive been dealing with wrist tendonitis so ive been taking it easy ❤️
tags ♥︎ slightly mean mark, a bit perverted mark, p in v sex, fingering, he's a tease, first time, rough sex, he's a bit gentle with you, three year age gap, mark is older than you, a bit of voyeurism? MDNI 18+, 9k word count
synopsis ♥︎ you are william clockbell's little sister and mark didn't really notice you besides just being his best friend's little sister, until well he just walked in on something he wasn't supposed to see, now he finally noticed you.
The house had settled into that specific late-night quiet where even the refrigerator’s hum was so faint, you could hardly hear it but it didn’t pass you, you’d been listening to it for an hour, maybe two, lying on top of your covers in an old sleep shirt that you put on with no mind, your phone was face down on the nightstand and the blue glow from your charging cable made a thin line across the ceiling.
William’s room was at the other end of the hall, and you’d heard his door shut around eleven p.m, the muffled bass of a video game soundtrack cutting out shortly after, you were restless, your mind clearly awake and refusing to rest, maybe it was due to the fact that Mark was staying over and that’s precisely why you couldn’t sleep, because a certain boy with onyx slick back hair, eyes with the color of calmest brown, and fairly unattractive dimples were on your mind, fairly so.
Mark was William’s best friend, and you were William’s little sister, to him anyways… that’s all you were, and it left you deeply unsatisfied, not that you could ever admit that, you? Crushing on your brother’s best friend of all people, and he’s quite older than you by three years, plus your brother would freak out! Because you were his little sister, and his best friend was “off limits” so that you heard William say one time.
Maybe it’s the awareness of him being in the same house, fifteen steps away, one room just down the hall from yours kept your pulse in your ears because you’d crushed on Mark Grayson since the summer William brought him home when you were in the seventh grade, you remembered that one time vividly in your head, the scene played out, you were thirteen and he was fifteen, you heard someone come in making you turn slightly, and there he was, he wore a random comic tee along with random pants and he didn’t see you because he was too busy taking his shoes off near the entrance door looking like the dorky kid he was and then when William hollered out and ushered him upstairs for a video gaming session or whatever boys do, you were on the couch perched with a book where your head was buried, you looked at him awkwardly before shyly stupidly giving him a wave, and finally he looked up at you.
He froze at first, but then he grinned that awful boyish smile, showing his braces, he had a glint in his eyes as he shyly waved too before making his way upstairs, back then Mark was just another gawky kid with a crooked smile, someone who liked his nerdy seance dog comics and built a whole collection, would ramble random facts on the national geographic documentaries containing weird science facts about animals, or would sometimes stutter out his sentences, that’s the type of guy he was literally.
You didn’t really know what changed but something did over the past year, because his shoulders filled out, you remembered briefly you were over at the Grayson’s house last summer because William dragged you along, why? You forgot the reason, you went inside with your brother and Mark was near the kitchen counter chugging water from a glass cup, he was wearing a tank top and his biceps were out flexed, along with his forearm veins, and his back muscles god… he didn’t notice but you were just salivating at him because recently he looked like he became built like a greek god and then his jaw sharpened, since when did he get so hot?
He was twenty, three years older than you, and every time he looked at you it was usually with the same flat, amused expression he’d give a neighbor’s cat that kept wandering onto his porch.
You were William’s little sister, that was your name to him, one time he’d ruffle your hair on his way to the kitchen and he’d always steal the last soda from the fridge and say, “Tell your brother I owe him,” without even glancing at your face, it was mean, but not cruel but dismissive in, a way that made you feel like a smudge on a window he was looking through.
And still. And still…
You shifted onto your side, your lips pursed as you brows furrowed in thought, the sheets rustling too loud, and stared at the sliver of light beneath your door, creeping in through your room, and your mind began to go haywire, currently drifting elsewhere.
You imagined Mark curled up in the sleeping bag on William’s floor right now in your brother’s room, one arm behind his head, breathing slow, probably wearing a fitted old seance dog t-shirt that fit him too well, you could even see his abs peak because of how muscular he was, his black messy hair framing his face, and the way the cotton stretched over his chest, your skin felt too warm and your thighs kept pressing together without a conscious decision.
You tried thinking about something else, anything but him but it failed because that boy still lingered in your mind rent-free and you still blinked at the ceiling above you that stared back tauntingly with nothing else to say back to you.
You tried counting the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling, the ones you remember you’d stuck up in sixth grade once because it just looked cool to put on for whatever reason, but then your mind kept drifting to that moment a few weeks ago, the shape of Mark’s big hands when he’d passed you the popcorn bowl during movie night with William who was passed out on the couch and you were sandwiched between him and Mark, you all were watching some old 2000’s horror movie, you imagined his knuckles, veins, long fingers. You’d imagined them everywhere, maybe everywhere on you, if his fingers brushed your skin, tracing your chest bone to maybe your neck, to your cheek, maybe to your thumb?
Then your greediness, and that immense feeling of wanting him to be all over you won and took over common sense, you slid your hand down your stomach slowly, slow, almost casual, like you could trick your body into believing this was just an absentminded gesture like it didn’t matter, the hem of the sleep shirt rode up, and the air kissed the skin, and a shiver ran sideways across your ribs, you felt so exposed right now in your room, naked even if your shorts were on.
Your breathing shifted into something shallower, mouth parting against the soft pillowcase to be quiet because the house was pretty silent and everyone was probably asleep and because you weren’t going to do this, you really weren’t.
Nope you were.
You were already doing it.
Your fingers traced the elastic of your cotton underwear, not pushing under, just along the edge. The contact made your stomach tighten, well it’s fine nobody was going to know, can you really blame yourself? A girl like you had urges too, you needed to take care of them, no one is gonna know… right? Yeah no one will know, and with the reassurance in mind, you let yourself loose, and finally caved in.
Yeah you're fine, Mark was probably asleep. William would be dead to the world until noon if you let him, It was just you and the dark and the permission you finally gave yourself after months of tucking this want, this feeling into smaller and smaller corners, because maybe you just weren’t allowed to have this, you didn’t want to make William’s friendship with Mark awkward, and… he probably didn’t like you like that anyway, so… but you can’t help it, this want, this feeling that felt like molten hot electricity crawling in your spine, when your heart beats so fast like a leopard whenever you see him, when your cheeks would pink a little when you knew Mark was over or every small interaction you would have with him if you could, and when he looked at you, his warm chocolate eyes gazing into yours and subtly glancing near your jaw, and to your shoulders before lifting back up again, you would notice the wrinkle in his eyes when his lips would smile.
Your middle finger dipped beneath the fabric, the sound you made was involuntary, a little whine against the pillows, because you were already wet, embarrassingly so, and the glide of your fingertip through that wet folds of your pussy sent a jolt up your spine that made your hips twitch.
You pressed your face into the pillow to muffle the next sound, a soft, rising whimper, and circled your clit with the kind of deliberate pressure you’d learned your body liked.
Circles, then side-to-side, then a light rubbing rhythm that made your thighs fall wide open on the bed, your lips parted, the ceiling stars watched, your eyes fluttering shut as you kept making keen soft noises muffled in the bed, letting all of this want go, and not keeping it in any longer.
Behind your lids, you imagined Mark was just standing there, watching you touching yourself and maybe his lips would part? His brows furrow in confusion as he watches you pleasure yourself to the thought of him, William’s best friend-what if he just watched and didn’t leave? Oh the watching made your stomach drop the way a staircase does when you miss the last step, falling and falling endlessly.
You imagined him pulling the door closed behind him, walking to the edge of your bed, pulling you into him, maybe hoisting you in his lap? his hands would just touch you everywhere he could reach especially inside, as his chocolate swirls focused on you and only you, he’d be everywhere and all of the skin on you he would’ve touched would be his already, you’d smell him everywhere, maybe he’d lean forward, his nose drifting near your cheek as he whispered dirty words in your ear, like…
Look at you.
Naughty girl, getting off to me like this?
Do you think about me all night?
Touching you, giving you what you can’t give yourself?
Your eyelashes weakly fluttered, your fingers worked faster at the flesh, two of them now sliding down to press at your entrance without entering, teasing the wetness forward, spreading it.
Your heel dug into the mattress as you whined more and more, so desperately trying to chase the high you needed so badly, the nightlight under the door flickered once, and you didn’t think much of it, probably something else, catching the bulb-and in the back of your mind you registered the faint sound of the hallway settling. Old house. Always creaking, so it didn’t worry you, and you just really needed to come now, you imagined his lips near your neck, his fingers working your pussy good, maybe he’d add one finger, perhaps two., three, He would pummel his fingers slowly gliding out, and back in, he would fill you up in ways you can’t, your back would be against his broad chests, his muscular arms feeling your waist groping you, pinning you to the bed-
The name slipped out before you could catch it.
“Mark…please…” Quiet, barely a whimper, but in the silence of your room it landed like a thud, but then speaking of a thud.
You heard something move, you swore you did… and your eyes snapped open, and you quickly lifted your head up, your eyes blown and you looked at the last crease between the door to the distance of the wall because…the door was ajar, not wide enough to be obvious, but the gap had widened by three, maybe four inches from where it had been when you’d last looked.
The sliver of hallway light now cut a longer rectangle across your floor, and at the edge of that rectangle, interrupting it, was the dark shape of someone’s foot?
Every muscle in your body locked, your hand froze between your legs, the wet heat still pulsing around your fingers, your heart was pounding fast, the foot didn’t move then it did. The door swung inward with a slow, deliberate creak that drank all the air from the room, and Mark Grayson slowly stepped inside.
He was wearing sweatpants, nothing else, he was bare chested… he wasn’t wearing a shirt like you thought he would in your mind earlier fantasizing about him, the hallway light painted one side of his torso in pale gold, tracing the slope of his shoulder, the hard shelf of his chest, the ridges of his abdomen that vanished into the dark waistband.
His hair was mussed, one lock falling across his forehead, and his expression was not the blank amusement you’d catalogued for years into your memory. His jaw was set. His eyes were dark, focused… and tracked down your body, then tracing back to where your hand was still underneath your panties.
You couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, and you just stared at his bare chest dumbfoundedly, because your hand was still in your underwear, and you’d never been more aware of the exact position of your body in physical space, because from how it looked, your legs were apart, and your lips parted around an interrupted breath, and you got caught.
The word caught expanded inside your skull until it was the only thing there, “M-ark!” you squeaked shyly, and in shock and your brain worked overtime to finally decided to stutter a response out.
Mark was still silent and closed the door, not all the way because he left it cracked exactly as it had been before, the gap precise, and the click of the latch not catching was the loudest sound you’d ever heard, it was closed slightly to give some privacy but a bit open for the gap to be there, where someone could peak in if they wanted to.
“Um…” Your lips parted open, trying to form some excuse or maybe tell him to get out of your room? Maybe say it’s not what it looks like? Where you can at least keep some of your dignity intact, why is he still standing here? Then before you could even muster out a sound.
“Don’t stop on my account.”
His voice was different, lower, the teasing edge he used with William was gone, replaced by something denser, something that settled in the air and made your throat ache. He leaned back against the doorframe, arms folding across his chest, and the muscle in his bicep twitched when he shifted his weight, looking you up and down.
“I-” You dumbly spoke again, but he cut you off fast, not giving you a chance to respond.
“You were saying my name,” he simply said. Not a question. A fact presented with the same casual certainty he’d use to announce the weather. His eyes didn’t leave your face, but it trailed to your eyes and then to your cheek, “I was… walking back from the bathroom and I heard it, kind of thought I imagined it at first.”
Your hand finally withdrew from your underwear on instinct, slick fingers gripping the sheet, and the loss of contact was almost painful. Your clit throbbed in protest, as you scrambled upwards, your hands now buried in the sheets as if to anchor you.
“Mark, I-”
“Shh.” He didn’t move, didn’t unfold his arms, but his command landed like a physical pressure on your mouth, yet sounding soothing. “‘S okay, keep going for me. I want to see.” it sounded so intimate like it’s something he told, just between you and him, only words to you, and it sounded a bit wrong because did he just ask you to keep touching yourself? and he’s watching now, you both knew what this could look like, it was a bit inappropriate.
The words didn’t make sense at first because you heard them, processed them, rejected them, processed them again, your face burned so hot you thought the heat might radiate off you in visible waves.
But the way he was looking at you finally looking at you, not through you, not around you like you were something actually worth looking at, it short-circuited the part of your brain that would have said no, stop, this is insane.
You stilled for a moment, your knees still clamped together out of instinct, his eyes intensely boring into yours and then slowly, for some reason, your legs parted again, as you laid back down keeping your gaze on him and you heard his breath hitched.
Your hand moved before you told it to, back down, under the elastic, fingers finding the wet heat again without preamble. The relief of contact made you quietly gasp, a sharp little intake that broke in the middle, and Mark’s nostrils flared.
He didn’t smile, but something shifted in his posture, loosening around the shoulders, and he tilted his head to watch your hand move beneath the fabric.
“Like that,” he murmured softly. “Just like that.”
The humiliation and the thrill tangled so completely you couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began because this was insane you were touching yourself while your brother’s best friend watched, the door open a bit wide enough that anyone including your brother walking to the bathroom or wherever maybe checking in on you would hear the slick sound of your fingers, see the silhouette of Mark, the boy who would always come over for dinners at the clockbell house, he a sweet boy with good manners was now standing in your doorway, watching you pleasure yourself, he should’ve known better, be responsible, walk away, but he doesn’t and he knows he should, because what if someone walked in right now like your brother? Or god, even your parents? Well at least they were away on some vacation to Hawaii, but what would your brother say and how would he react?
The danger of it made your hips lift, chasing your own touch with a desperation that felt foreign and yours all at once.
Your rhythm faltered, too frantic, too self-conscious, and Mark noticed, of course he noticed, it’s okay he’ll help you, teach you, perhaps you didn’t really know what to do, maybe you were inexperienced, he bit his lip at the thought of being the one to guide you, only him, something possessive coiled in his chest.
“You’re rushing, baby.” He pushed off the doorframe and crossed the room in three strides that didn’t make sound, bare feet on carpet, now he was standing at the edge of your bed looking down at you with a proximity that made your lungs seize.
He smelled like fabric softener and faint clean laundry detergent, and under that something warm and comforting.
“Slow down, you were doing better before you knew I was there.”
“I’m trying…” you breathed out, and the confession came out cracked, a voice you didn’t recognize. “I-can’t…its…” you shyly mumbled nervously, him being here, just seeing you personally like this it felt too much, but it also felt so daunting, having him notice you like this, having his attention on you and only you.
It felt so intoxicating, he was intoxicating.
“It’s fine, it’s just you and me.” He knelt, his knees hit the carpet beside your bed and now his face was level with your hip, his eyes on the shape of your hand beneath the cotton. “Don’t think, just feel. Show me baby, keep touching that pretty pussy ‘f me.” the crude word that left out of his lips, immediately made you even wetter if possible, it sounded so dirty, and you felt, slick heat flooding between your thighs.
Yeah it sounded so dirty and you wanted it. You wanted him to keep saying it.
Your eyes squeezed shut, shame and arousal crawled through you, and also fought against each other at the same time and arousal won because his voice was honey and gravel and it was saying things you’d scripted in your fantasies a hundred times.
You circled your clit again, slower, the way you did when you were alone and had time pretending you were when he wasn’t there, and the pleasure built in gradual waves. A moan slipped out high, thin, soft and you bit it back immediately, your free hand flying to your mouth.
Mark made a sound. Low in his chest, almost a hum. “Don’t muffle it sweet girl, let me hear those sounds of yours.” His hand moved to swat yours, covering your lips away gently, firmly gripping your fingers and leaving it at your side.
He glanced at the cracked door, then back at you, and his meaning clicked into place with a gravity that made your stomach flip, and you were so lost in touching yourself you almost forgot the urgency, William, sleeping at the end of the hall. If you were loud, if the bed creaked too much, if Mark’s presence in your room was discovered…
Your fingers stilled. “Mark…my brother-”
“Is asleep.” Mark’s hand lifted, and for the first time he touched you, just his palm on your outer thigh, above the knee, a weight dry and steady. “And I’m right here and you were the one moaning my name with your fingers inside your cunt ten minutes ago, so don’t pretend you want me to leave.” he smirked, and if he counted the minutes, how long was he standing there? With that implication that maybe he actually did watch you touch yourself for awhile, made your pussy throb again at his sinful words.
Oh and the bluntness of it-cunt, a word that literally got spoken out of that sweet boy with dimples, never heard spoken aloud made your inner muscles clench around nothing, you shook your head, a tiny motion, and his hand squeezed your thigh once before releasing.
“That’s right, that’s my good girl.” He cooed hushedly and heat flushed your cheeks, more if that was possible because getting praised by him felt so good, and you never knew how it felt from him before, it hit your bloodstream like a shot of something distilled.
“Now move your hand, let me.” He didn’t wait for permission. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your underwear and you lifted your hips automatically, a reflex, and then the cotton was sliding down your legs, catching on one ankle before he tugged it free and dropped it somewhere on the floor. The air hit your wetness and the contrast of temperature made you flinch. Mark’s gaze dropped between your legs and stayed there.
“Look at you baby,” he said softly and so proudly, “You’re so soaked.”
The blunt observation made your face flame even more, but he wasn’t mocking because he sounded fascinated, and maybe affected like you were, he stood up from the carpet, and his bodyweight dipped on the bed joining you, then his broad hand settled on your inner thigh and nudged it wider, opening you to the dim light and to his view, and then his thumb was brushing through the slick folds.
A whimper leaked out before you could stop it yourself, high-pitched. Soft.
“There it is,” he murmured. “You know, I heard weird noises from your room and I thought maybe I should… y’know be a good friend to William, check on his little sister, make sure she’s okay. ” he trailed off huskily as he kept working your pussy open, his big calloused fingers felt so different from your fingers, and it just felt so much better like he reach more than you could, you blinked slightly out of it as he coaxed more moans out of you.
“But,” he continued, as his fingers rubbed the nub slightly faster, causing you to squirm under his touch, a little not that he minded, “Then I find his little sister just touching herself, and god I shouldn’t have watched, because you’re his little sister but-” he bit his lip as his gaze honed in on how your expression looked more flushed by the minute and desperate, and your eyes were lost in a haze, glossy as your lips parted more for more high pitched soft moans, not too loud but still so quiet for him, you were being so good, just letting him touch you like this, letting him have you like this.
He continued, his adam’s apple swallowing heavily, “But then you moaned my name and god-you sounded so fucking pretty, y’know that? You’re such a pretty girl, tell me, did anyone touch you like this?” you quickly shook your head, his fingers rubbed even more faster through your slick heat, the pleasure so hot and white, the wet sounds of your pussy filled the room, and you couldn’t completely answer, you just tilted your head back as you moaned helplessly, feeling like your orgasm was getting closer.
His thumb found your clit and pressed, not circling, just a steady pressure that made your vision sparkle at the edges. Your hips bucked again and his other hand came down on your hipbone, pinning you to the mattress with an effortless strength that made your mind go briefly, blissfully blank.
“You’re movin’ too much, stay still.” The command cut through the fog, and you obeyed because the alternative was him stopping, and you would have done anything to keep him from stopping, because it just feels so good. “Also you’re being too loud, If William wakes up we have to stop and you don’t want that do you?”
You shook your head shakily, your eyes getting a little teary at the slight tone he was using with you, because it sounded gentle and soft, but there was a bit of an edge.
“Answer me, c’mon let me hear that pretty voice.”
“Yes,” you gasped. “I don’t want it to stop…please don’t stop.”
“Mm, good.” He pulled his hand away and you nearly sobbed at the loss and the orgasm that almost happened disappeared quickly. “Mark I was gonna…” You mumbled before he just hushed you, “Come? Yeah I know, just wait.” You frowned, but then he was shifting more making the bed dip, positioning himself between your spread legs. The heat of his body you felt it, and you could see the outline of him through his sweatpants now, the heavy shape of his erection pressed against the gray fabric, and the size of it made your mouth dry.
You’d known, theoretically, that maybe he was big, how? you heard him and william compare dick sizes for fun one time, you didn’t mean to eavesdrop and you didn’t see it of course, the door was closed but you walked past near William’s room, then you heard your brother’s voice- ‘Damn grayson well endowed huh?’ Then you heard a chuckle, mistakenly Mark’s, as he was trying to downplay it but seeing it now, hard and straining and just inches from where you were open and waiting, rewired something in your brain.
“You’ve thought about this, huh?” Mark crooned, settling his weight on his forearms on either side of your shoulders. His face was close now, close enough that you could see the flecks of lighter brown in his irises, the faint scar on his chin that you wondered where he got it from, his eyes flicked to yours, his hot breath kissing your cheek “Thought about me fucking you while your brother sleeps two doors down, didnt you?”
Your chest heaved, and your jaw nervously went slack, he was so close to you, and he was on top of you.
“Tell me.”
His tone firm and steady hooked and pulled you in, “I… think about it all the time… when you’re over and when you’re not. I can’t-I can’t stop thinking about it, about you.” You babbled, looking at him, something flashed across his face. Satisfaction, maybe, or hunger, or both, but something deeper too, then his mouth was on your throat, not kissing so much as pressing, an open-mouthed heat that traveled down to your collarbone while one hand slid between your bodies.
You felt two fingers pushed inside you without warning, and the stretch drew a choked cry from your lips, “Mark…” you cried out, your eyes darting up to his like it could hold you together, the sensation felt different when he was just touching your clit, but now his thick fingers were inside, and you felt like you were being filled.
“That’s it,” he said against your skin. “Take it, god you’re so tight around my fingers, how long has it been baby girl, how long did you go without touchin’ yourself?”
You couldn’t answer because his fingers were thick, curling inside your gummy walls, finding a spot that made your back arch off the mattress. The heel of his palm ground against your clit with every thrust of his hand, a dual stimulation that built pressure behind your eyes and warmth pooling low in your belly.
“Never…” you managed, the word fractured. “Never, you’re the first… no one’s ever touched me… please Mark, please…” you mewled desperately, you kept panting and moaning uncontrollably a little louder than before, you swallowed before he murmured for you to keep on talking, keep using that pretty voice of yours to tell him.
Mark's fingers plunged deeper, curling just right to stroke that sensitive spot inside you with each thrust. Your walls clenched around the intrusion, slick and hot, dripping down his knuckles as he worked you more open, and in a daze you kept speaking, your voice drifting to a mumble.
“Uh huh… no one’s touched me before.” The confession fell out of you, unguarded, and you watched his expression shift from hunger to something more complex, something with edges you couldn’t name. “No one… just you.” your head felt so light and heady, you swore you heard a faint groan, yours hips bucked into his hand, and he fingerfucked you faster, his thumb found your clit and rubbed tight circles while two fingers pumped faster, the wet sounds filling the room. Your moans grew louder, broken and needy, legs shaking as pleasure built fast and sharp, and then you felt it you came immediately, the wet gush of juices coating his hands as you whimpered.
Your hips needily rolled into his hand, as you looked up at him with half lidded eyes and he added a third finger and the stretch burned a little for half a second before dissolving into more pleasure so deep it felt like falling, your head lolled against the pillows, as you were panting.
“Look at that pussy swallowing my fingers, does it feel good baby?” He whispered, near your ear, you nodded frantically, his hand cupped your jaw tilting to his lips and he kissed you for the first time. Not gentle. His tongue pushed past your lips, tasting you, claiming the space behind your teeth, and the kiss was messy and hot and everything you’d imagined when you’d watched his lips touch his glass cup, and the thought about what his mouth would feel like.
His thumb found the nub again and pressed in tight circles that matched the rhythm of his fingers inside your gummy walls, the dual sensation fueled a brightening wire in your lower belly, and you could feel it coming again, the intense orgasm coiling not like a wave but like a spring being wound too tight. Your breath came in short, soft pants that you tried desperately to keep quiet, each exhale a little whine that you swallowed against his tongue, he pulled his lips away with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting you to him.
“She’s close huh,” he murmured, he licked his lips as his eyes focused on your puffy cunt just swallowing his fingers whole. “Let go, come for me, you got it.”
His words so low curled around you like a warm husk, your orgasm broke not in a crash but in a series of concentric ripples that expanded outward from where his hand was buried inside you, each pulse stronger than the last, your pussy clenched around his fingers, hard, rhythmic contractions, then he shoved his tongue deeper into your mouth again as you came, he groaned looking at you come completely undone, a low sound that vibrated against your mouth. Your thighs clamped around his wrist and your back lifted off the bed and the sound you made was a high, keening thing that you muffled into his lips.
He worked you through it, pumping in his fingers slowly but not stopping, drawing out every aftershock until you were trembling and oversensitive and making small, wounded noises into his skin. When he finally withdrew, his hand glistened in the dim light, and he lifted it to his mouth, licking his fingers clean while maintaining eye contact, and god that did something to you.
“Still with me?” He whispered, you barely nodded, you felt so spent already but he already started moving and he wasn’t done, your lips parted to say something more but all it did was just let out strings of wanton moans as you felt him nip at your skin.
He moved, leaning down and dragged his tongue along the column of your neck. Wet kisses followed, trailing lower until His mouth was on your breast before you could form words, pulling the sleep shirt higher until it bunched at your collarbone, he sealed his lips around your nipple and sucked hard in his mouth.
A soft cry of his name left your lips, your head lolling against the pillows, as your fingers made its way tugging his black hair strands.
His tongue circled your nipple with the focused attention of someone who had nowhere else to be, he suckled before his lips also met the other bud, twirling it gently, the sensation was electric, somehow connected directly to your clit, and you felt yourself getting wetter, impossibly, the slickness spreading to your inner thighs and soaking more into the sheets, he pulled off with a wet pop before leaning back on his haunches, and just looking at you.
“Ready for the big thing baby?” he said, and the corner of his mouth lifted in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “You ready for me?” your eyes widened at the realization, and you felt warm anticipation fluttering in your belly, you didn’t get a chance to answer. He shifted, and you heard the soft rustle of fabric, the elastic snap of his waistband being pushed down. Then the weight of him was settling between your thighs, and the hot, blunt pressure of his cock was pressing against your entrance, and looked at it immediately.
He was big. You’d known, but knowing and feeling were things, “Mark..wait-” you muttered out nervously, “Shh, it’s okay, you're okay trust me, it will feel so good jus’ let me show you.” He murmured, palming your hips closer to his as he adjusted his position, and you felt the stretch of him pushing just the head inside made your mouth fall open in a silent scream. Your hands flew to his biceps and gripped hard enough to leave crescents, but he barely flinched and he paused, forehead dropping to yours, breath coming in controlled exhales.
“Mark… your too big, its too…” you whimpered out, your lashes a little watery and his lips kissed your hairline, before his fingers gently swiped a bit of your tears away, his nose nudged against yours, and his brown swirls stared deeply into yours.
“I know sweetheart, ‘m sorry,” he murmured a little apologetically. “Just keep looking at me, keep your eyes on me.”
You opened your eyes-when had you closed them? and found his gaze already locked on your face. The intensity there made this feel less scary, somehow. Anchored you, because no one had ever been inside of you before, this was your first time, no boy ever made you feel like this before, and it was gonna be Mark Grayson that will take your virginity away, it was him.
His lips peppered a wet kiss on your cheek, his broad palm caressing your hair as you felt another wet peck near your jaw, and him kissing more away the tears that stained your cheeks a little.
“Breathe,” he instructed, and you realized you’d been holding your breath. You inhaled shakily, and on the exhale as he pushed deeper, another inch, another, the friction a liquid burn that radiated up your spine. “Shit…yeah, doing so good for me baby, open up, jus’ take it like that, just like that.” He cooed, as his cock slid in more deeper, he kept going, slow, so slow, until he was fully seated inside you, and the fullness was so complete, you were so filled up.
It felt like he was touching places nothing had ever touched before, you felt his hips against your pelvis and your lips parted into a ‘o’ your eyes blown wide as you really felt it, god he was so fucking big he was stretching you out, but the slight pain and burning sensation was slowly fading and now you melted into the sheets, your eyes were half lidded barely open, and he saw it, you looked out of it, but it’s okay he’ll take care of it.
You don’t have to do anything but lay there and take it, he will take good care of you, show you how good it feels, he felt your body relax more against the bed and your thighs spread a little farther apart between his waist, as your lips loosened, and he could feel your hips nudging against his like you needed it just as much as he did.
“There,” he breathed. “There you go, taking all of it, good girl.”
The praise turned your bones to water, and his hips stayed still for a long moment, letting you adjust, and you could feel every ridge and vein of him inside you, the pulse of his heartbeat transmitted through the place where your bodies joined. Then he finally moved.
Not thrusting. Rolling. A slow, deep grind that pressed his pubic bone against your clit and pushed the head of him against some deep internal spot that made starbursts bloom behind your eyes. Your mouth opened on a moan and he covered it with his palm, gentle but firm, muffling the sound.
He pulled out slowly, almost all the way, before plunging back in, the sound of your bodies meeting was wet and sloppy-a squelching noise that made your cheeks burn, The bed creaked continuously with every thrust, his heavy frame pinning you flat while his palm stayed clamped over your mouth. Each deliberate push bottomed out, his cock dragging along your walls before pumping back in, the wet squelch of your soaked pussy filling the room.
"You're taking it so deep, look at this pretty pussy." he groaned, his voice low and rough in your ear, he leaned down, trapping you beneath his massive body, covering your mouth with his hand again as a particularly loud whimper escaped your throat. "Shhh be quiet baby, I know it feels good, I know." your moans went muffled against his hand, your eyes blurry with little tears as he kept going.
He set a steady rhythm that was deliberate and unhurried, each stroke pulling out just enough to make you want more but keep you over the edge, the slide of him inside you was slick and obscenely loud in the quiet room, a wet sound that you’d have been mortified by if his face wasn’t contorting with pleasure above you, his lips now parted open as he kept pumping his hips.
He drove into you with long, slow yet hard strokes that punched the breath out of your lungs. The bed creaked continuously with every thrust. He pulled almost all the way out, the head of his cock stretching your entrance, then slammed back into the hilt. Your body jolted forward, a choked cry escaping past his fingers. He didn't speed up, just kept that relentless, measured rhythm, each stroke deliberate and deep, keeping you hovering right on the edge without letting you tip over.
His control was impressive because you could see the tension in his jaw, the way his hips wanted to snap more harder, faster but he held back, kept it slow, kept it steady. “You feel so good,” he gritted out, the words punched from him on an exhale, you mewled as he pushed you further deep into the bed to keep you from squirming, “Fuck, if I knew how good this pussy was, would've bent you over a long time ago baby girl.” his hips kept snapping, skin slapping against skin echoed in the room and your eyes nearly rolled back to your skull, it felt so so good, his praises felt so good, your hands limp by your sides gripped the sheets tightly as his hips kept hammering, your tears were soaking the pillows, and the more high pitched whines was being fucked out of you.
“Mark…” you cried out, your lashes fluttering, he looked down at you, His gaze stayed low, locked on the place where your bodies met, watching his cock slide in and out of you with steady, deliberate strokes. He dipped his head, mouth brushing over your skin, lips dragging slowly along your jaw until they reached your ear. His breath was hot against it as he kept thrusting, hips still rolling in a relentless rhythm that made the bed creak more and more beneath you both, to the point whatever was happening in the room and whoever passed by would’ve been obvious.
"That's it," he groaned, breath hot against your ear. "You’re takin it like a big girl huh? Look at you so fucking tight around my cock." Your pussy clenched hard at his words, dripping more slick down his thick shaft and onto the sheets, as you cried out, his hand left your mouth and slid down your body, fingers finding your clit again and finding your wet slickness, he circled in time with his thrusts, the dual stimulation was too much in the best way, building a second orgasm that you could feel in your teeth, making your toes curl.
“Come on my cock baby, let me feel it.” He whispered, the command tipped you over, along with his words lingered in your mind like it had control over you, your second orgasm was sharper than the first, a bright, blinding thing that made your vision tunnel and your inner muscles clamp down on him in pulses so strong you heard him hiss through his teeth.
You bit your own lip to keep from crying out and your body arched up into his sharply, he still fucked you through it, pace never faltering, and when you came down you were shaking, more tears leaking from the corners of your eyes, every nerve ending burned so good, but he didn’t stop, he leaned closer just looking at your tear streaked face, along with your hiccups.
“Give me one more.” his voice had gone rough, the restraint fraying at the edges, and his hips snapped more faster now, no longer holding back steadily, the wet slap of skin growing louder in the quiet room. Each thrust punched deeper, his cock dragging against your sensitive walls before slamming back in. "You can give me one more. I know you can."
“I nnh-can’t,” you whimpered, your hands pushed against his muscled chest slightly, your pussy so overstimulated, spasming more uncontrollably, “I can’t…” you whined.
“You can.” His pace quickening further, the bed creaked louder beneath you both with each hard thrust and every time his hips buried you to the hilt. “You will, look at you, this pussy is taking this cock like you were made for it, like you need it, ‘s what you wanted right?”
He was spurring you on and you nodded, incapable of speech, and he rewarded you with a thrust that hit so deep you saw white, The pleasure built up in waves, he was hitting your pussy so deep, the head of his cock bullying and kissing your cervix with every thrust. It was rough, bordering on brutal, but the way he held you, the way he looked at you, still was so tender it made your heart ache a little,
“Say it, say you want me, say you need me.” he whispered to you, as his hips pummeled deep inside your pussy, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, and you were so in bliss, that if someone walked by at this point no longer any of your worries, all you wanted was him to keep going, to keep fucking and using you like this.
“I wanted this,” you breathed, the confession tearing out of you. “Wanted you. Wanted your cock. Inside me… please, Mark, please-” more whines escaped your lips.
The begging broke something in him. His control slipped, thrusts becoming more harder, less measured, and the bed frame gave a warning creak that made you both freeze for half a heartbeat.
Then he shifted his hips, changing the angle, his cock pummeled out and back in with a wet slap again, this time one of your legs was hooked over his shoulder, opening you impossibly wider to him, and you let out a mewl, as he kept rocking his hips with an unbearable, slightly faster pace, his palm resting on where the bulge was on your belly.
The third orgasm built in layers you didn’t recognize, something heavier, deeper, spreading through your pelvis like heat through metal. Your mouth shaped a silent scream and Mark’s hand clamped over it again just so you won’t be too loud, his eyes wild, his rhythm stuttering.
“Going to come,” he gritted out “You want it? Want me to pump this pussy all up full with my cum?”
You nodded frantically, and he fucked you deep into your soul your eyes rolled back, lashes fluttering, a thin line of drool slipping from the corner of your mouth around his palm, and Mark was pounding you into the bed, his hips slammed forward hard, burying himself to the hilt. For one suspended second he pulled back, his cock sliding out with a wet plap that left you empty and clenching around nothing, then he drove in again, one final thrust that locked him deep, you felt his whole body went rigid above you.
You felt the first thick rope of cum pulse into you, hot and heavy, followed by another, and another, more whimpers left you, along with his cock jerked inside your gummy walls, flooding you with pulse after pulse until the warmth overflowed and leaking out around his shaft. He stayed locked there, grinding in tiny, involuntary circles as he emptied every last drop, breath ragged against your ear.
His cock slid out, then he rolled his hips in slow, lazy thrusts, letting more of his cum to seep out around your swollen pussy lips, you slumped into the mattress as you were out of the breath, that left you boneless and barely conscious.
He stayed inside you, pulsing, for what felt like minutes. His forehead dropped to your collarbone, breath hot and ragged, and your fingers tangled in his hair without thought, your eyes fluttered shut, the room smelled like sex and sweat and faint honey and slight wood, then you felt his lips kissed your cheek, everywhere and to your lips, to your neck.
Then, from the hallway, a floorboard creaked.
Your heart stopped. Mark’s head lifted, eyes cutting to the door-still cracked, still showing the same sliver of light and his body went tense above you, your head shot up before he firmly pressed your back down and towered over you again, his hips still slotted against the mattress, your legs spread between his as he admired his work, you sprawled on the bed with his cum leaking out of your thighs, and your cheeks were little pink, your hair slightly messy now.
He turned, his spare hand moved, rumpling underneath the sheets, like he was finding something and he did and founded your cotton underwear somewhere, he twirled it in his fingers absent mindedly and finally you felt his tip pull out, and his palms founded your thighs pulling you to him, you stared a little out of it, “Up baby,” he murmured, tapping your thigh gently and your mind felt like cotton, you just listened and lifted your hips, and he hummed satisfyingly.
His fingers slid the thin panties up your ankle to your hips, covering your pussy folds where his semen still leaking out of, which he was still staring at profoundly, his hand fiddling with your panties, move to still rub the flesh in a soothing way.
His brown swirls then bore into yours deeply and intensely, and you unfalteringly stared back, you see his lips part to saying something more before-
"Guys?" A voice, still thick with sleep but growing more alert, drifted into the room, and you immediately sat upright.
Mark turned, and in the blink of an eye, your blanket was pulled over your thighs, and by the time William stepped inside, Mark was somehow already back in his sweatpants, he was still shirtless, instead of on you was now sitting cross-legged beside you on the bed as though nothing had happened.
You barely caught how Mark managed it so quickly, before you could even question it at all or what you just saw unfolded, your attention shifted to your brother, who now stood in the doorway, his gaze lingering on the two of you.
"Hey, bro. What's up?" Mark asked casually, lifting a hand in a small wave, his brown eyes all looking so innocent, which was quite the contrary. Something did happen, and William obviously did not know or somehow didn’t catch on yet what was staring at his face.
The ‘I fucked your little sister next door when you were sleeping’ happened.
You gave a nod sheepishly, quickly smoothing your disheveled hair in an attempt to make yourself look a little more put together, William looked between the two of you, one eyebrow raised.
"Nah, nothing," he said. "I woke up to use the bathroom, but you weren't there. So I figured I'd check where you were... and you're in my sister's room?"
"Yeah," Mark replied easily. "Just checking in on her. Thought I'd stop by, say hi, and annoy her for a bit." He glanced at you, and you immediately caught on.
"Yeah," you added with a small shrug, trying to make all of these less suspicious in any further way possible. "But now I'd actually like to go back to sleep, so... instead of bothering me, maybe you could bother William since he's already awake." You smiled a little, your hands fidgeting and you see your brother let out a quiet snort, the tension cooled off you a little.
"See? Mini Clockbell has a point," Mark said with a grin, and William sighed. "Well Mark,” His hands rested on his hips and stared at him deadpan.
“You can’t bother me because I think I am just gonna head back to bed, and get my beauty sleep, so night, guys keep doin whatever you were doin." William mumbled through a yawn, giving a lazy wave before turning toward the hallway, You let out a soft reply ‘good night’ back along with Mark’s voice intermingling with yours at your brother’s remark.
The sound of his footsteps gradually faded until the house fell quiet once more, leaving just the two of you.
Only then did you look back at Mark, and he was already looking at you.
Without a word, his hand drifted over the blanket, gently kneading your thigh through the fabric before he pushed himself to his feet, and finally the warmth of his touch left you faded, his gaze never leaving yours, and you looked at him a bit too long, your lips still parted a little, your breaths becoming a little uneven, and his eyes fell on your lips before meeting back to your eyes, and your mind ran rampant.
It felt so good, and you wondered would this happen again? You felt the warm coiling sensation gather in your stomach already even though he strung it out of you and made you come until you couldn’t, leaving your body spent and used, you liked it, because you weren’t fucked this good out of your life before.
You swallow a little, the words came but died down heavily down your throat, and a faint smile tugged at the corner of Mark's lips, he made his way toward the door before pausing, tilting his head to look back at you one last time. “Night clockbell, see you tomorrow.” His eyes swept over you up and down before leaving, and your thighs rubbed a little underneath the blanket, and you bit your lip.
Because deep down, you knew this wasn't over, because tomorrow night, around this same hour, he would probably maybe somehow find his way back to your room, and somehow, you already knew how the night would unfold.
With him pinning you in the bed, his fingers interlaced with yours, his lips on your neck, with his hips slotted against yours, as he takes from you again, and makes you come more and more than last time, his hot breath against your cheeks, and maybe with his cock down your throat or-possibly you riding on his length over and over again, with his broad palms gripping your waist.
Maybe him taking you in multiple positions, and taking you nine ways to Sunday.
And maybe, just maybe… you were looking forward to it.
cw. shower sex, fingering (f!receiving), cute banter between you and Mark (mark grayson x fem!reader)
The water outage notice goes up at seven in the morning.
You find it taped crookedly to the elevator doors on your way back from getting coffee, still sleepy, wearing shorts and one of Mark’s old college shirts because laundry day has become more of a suggestion than an actual routine.
TEMPORARY WATER INTERRUPTION FROM 8:00 A.M. TO 6:00 P.M.
You stare at it.
Then stare harder, as if the words might rearrange themselves into something less inconvenient.
Behind you, Mark comes out of the stairwell with wet hair, gym bag over one shoulder, cheeks flushed from his morning run. He nearly bumps into you, then follows your gaze to the notice.
“Oh,” he says.
You turn slowly. “Did you shower already?”
Mark blinks.
You narrow your eyes.
His face does something suspicious.
“Technically…”
“Mark.”
“I rinsed off at the gym.”
“That is not showering.”
“It involved water.”
“You smell like outside.”
“I smell like fresh air and athletic dedication.”
“You smell like pavement.”
He laughs, leaning closer just to annoy you, and you shove at his chest with one hand. He catches your wrist without thinking, thumb brushing over your pulse before he lets go.
The little contact lingers longer than it should.
Everything with Mark lingers longer than it should these days.
The two of you are not dating.
You have both said this.
Several times, actually.
Usually after one of you falls asleep on the couch with the other’s hand tucked under your shirt. Or after Mark comes home bruised and you patch him up in silence, sitting too close, knees touching. Or after you wear his clothes without asking and he looks at you like he has forgotten every language he knows.
Not dating.
Just sharing a place.
Just friends.
Just friends who know exactly how the other takes their coffee, who keep ending up in each other’s beds without doing anything except sleeping too close, who pretend not to notice how charged the air gets when one of you walks around in a towel.
Normal. Very normal.
The notice on the elevator says otherwise.
You check the time on your phone. “It’s seven-thirty.”
Mark glances at the paper again. “We’ve got thirty minutes.”
“I need to wash my hair.”
“I need an actual shower.”
You both go quiet.
The silence is immediate.
Heavy and ridiculous.
Then Mark says, far too casually, “We could save water.”
Your head snaps toward him.
He is already smirking.
Not fully. Just enough to make your stomach drop.
“Absolutely not.”
“I didn’t even say anything.”
“You said it with your face.”
“My face is innocent.”
“Your face is never innocent.”
Mark’s smirk grows.
You hate him.
You hate that your body reacts to it too, warmth creeping up your neck as you turn away from him and jab the elevator button like it personally betrayed you.
“We are not showering together,” you say.
“Okay.”
“Stop sounding like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you know something.”
Mark leans against the wall beside you, looking entirely too relaxed for someone causing this much damage before breakfast.
“I know we have thirty minutes.”
You glare at him.
He lifts both hands. “I’m just saying.”
“You’re just saying nothing.”
“Right.”
The elevator arrives and you step in first.
Mark follows.
Neither of you speaks the entire way up.
That somehow makes it worse.
Because the idea is already there now, sitting between you in the tiny mirrored elevator. Mark behind you. Steam. Water. Bare skin. His stupid broad shoulders taking up too much space. You try very hard not to look at his reflection.
You fail once.
He catches you.
Of course he catches you.
His eyes flick to yours in the mirror.
You look away so fast your neck nearly hurts.
Mark says nothing.
But his mouth twitches.
By the time you get inside the apartment, you’re already flustered.
You set the coffees down too hard on the counter and march toward the bathroom with false confidence.
“I’m going first.”
Mark follows at an unhurried pace. “You said you have to wash your hair.”
“I do.”
“That takes forever.”
“It does not.”
“It does.”
You turn in the bathroom doorway. “Do you want hot water or not?”
He stops in front of you.
Too close.
Always too close lately.
His gaze drops briefly to your mouth before lifting back to your eyes.
“I’m fine with sharing.”
Your breath catches.
Mark hears it.
His smirk fades a little, replaced by something slower. Warmer.
Less teasing.
More dangerous.
You swallow. “Don’t make it weird.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I’m standing here.”
“Exactly.”
He laughs softly, but his eyes don’t leave your face.
“Your call,” he says.
That should help.
It does not.
Because he means it. He is leaving it to you. No pressure, no push, no smug little joke now. Just Mark standing there in the hallway, giving you space to say no.
And suddenly the word no feels embarrassingly far away.
You look down at your coffee and then back at him.
Then at the bathroom, where the clock is very much ticking.
“This is just practical,” you say.
Mark’s face stays carefully neutral.
Too carefully.
“Very practical.”
“To save water.”
“Of course.”
“And time.”
“Definitely.”
“And you’re not allowed to be annoying.”
His eyebrows lift. “That one might be hard.”
“Mark.”
“I’ll behave.”
You do not believe him.
Not for one second.
Still, ten minutes later, you are standing in the shower with him.
Naked with Mark.
Naked Mark.
Behind you.
You have made several tactical errors in your life, but this may be the worst.
The shower is not built for two people. Not two people when one of them is Mark, who takes up space like it’s a personal hobby. His shoulder brushes yours every time he moves. His arm reaches past you for the shampoo and the entire wall seems to shrink. Warm water runs over both of you, steam fogging the glass until the bathroom becomes its own little world.
You face forward with the dedication of someone defusing a bomb.
You do not look down.
You do not look back.
You keep your eyes fixed on the tile.
Very normal tile.
Beautiful tile, really.
Fascinating grout.
Behind you, Mark clears his throat.
“You okay?”
“Fine.”
“You’re staring at the wall.”
“I like walls.”
“You like walls?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve never mentioned that.”
“It’s a private interest.”
Mark laughs under his breath.
You can feel him trying not to move too close.
That is somehow worse than if he just did.
Because you are painfully aware of every inch he is keeping away from you. Aware of the heat of him behind you. Aware of the water running down his chest, his stomach, lower. Aware of the fact that if you turned around, you would see everything you have been carefully not thinking about for weeks.
You reach for the body wash.
Mark reaches at the same time.
Your hands touch.
You freeze.
He does too.
The bottle slips.
You both grab for it.
In the cramped space, Mark steps forward.
His chest hits your back.
And then you feel him.
Hard against you.
Your whole body goes still.
Mark’s breath catches behind you.
Neither of you moves.
Water beats steadily against the tile as steam curls around your face.
Your fingers tighten around the body wash.
Mark’s voice comes low near your ear.
“Sorry.”
He does not move away.
You do not ask him to.
That is its own answer.
His hands hover at your sides, not touching yet, just there. Waiting.
“Tell me to move,” he says.
Your throat feels dry despite the shower.
You should.
You really should.
Instead, your voice comes out small.
“I didn’t say anything.”
Mark goes very still.
The silence changes again.
This time it is not awkward.
It is charged.
His hands settle lightly at your waist.
Not grabbing.
Not taking.
Just touching.
His thumbs rest against your wet skin, and you feel him exhale behind you.
“You sure?” he asks.
You close your eyes.
The water runs down your face, your chest, between your breasts. His body is warm and solid behind yours. Too close. Not close enough.
“Yes.”
It is barely a whisper.
Mark hears it anyway.
Of course he does.
His hands slide slowly around your waist, palms spreading over your stomach. He pulls you back against him, just enough that your spine fits to his chest, just enough that there is no pretending anymore.
You gasp softly when he presses harder against you.
Mark’s mouth brushes the side of your neck.
“You’re shaking.”
“You’re naked.”
“So are you.”
“That’s different.”
He smiles against your skin. “How?”
“Because it’s you.”
The words slip out before you can stop them.
Mark freezes.
For one awful, breathless second, you think you have ruined everything.
Then his hands tighten on your stomach.
“Yeah?” he murmurs.
Your face burns hotter than the steam. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Make me say embarrassing things.”
His lips graze your neck.
“But I like when you say embarrassing things.”
You elbow him lightly.
He catches your arm, laughing softly, and presses a kiss to your shoulder.
The kiss ruins you.
It is too gentle for what is happening. Too soft for the way his cock is pressed against your lower back, too sweet for the way his hands are already sliding higher, up your ribs, slow enough to give you time to stop him.
You don’t.
His palms cup your breasts.
Your breath leaves you.
Mark stills immediately.
“Okay?”
You nod, then remember what he always does.
“Yes.”
His fingers flex, careful at first, testing. Your nipples are already hard from the water and the nerves and him, and when his thumbs brush over them, your whole body jolts.
Mark inhales sharply.
“Oh.”
“Don’t,” you whimper.
His mouth returns to your neck. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You were going to.”
“I was.”
“You’re awful.”
“Maybe.”
His thumbs circle again.
Your head tips back against his shoulder before you can stop it.
Mark’s voice drops.
“But you like it.”
You squeeze your eyes shut, mortified.
He pinches gently, rolling your nipples between his fingers, and the sound you make echoes off the tile before you can swallow it.
Mark groans behind you.
“Fuck.”
Your face burns. “Mark.”
“I know.” His hands keep moving, slow and deliberate. “I know, baby.”
Baby.
That is new.
That is dangerous.
You go soft against him, and he feels it instantly.
His arm slides around your waist, holding you up as his other hand continues teasing your nipple until your knees threaten to give.
“You like that too?” he asks.
You shake your head.
His thumb strokes again.
You whine as Mark smiles against your ear.
“Liar.”
“You’re so annoying.”
“You’re still leaning on me.”
“I have no choice.”
“You have plenty of choices.”
His hand slips down your stomach.
Your breath catches.
He pauses just above where you want him.
“Tell me no,” he says softly, “and I’ll stop.”
You stare at the fogged shower glass in front of you, heart pounding.
You don’t say no.
Instead, you reach back blindly and grab at his lower back.
Mark’s breath shudders.
“Okay,” he whispers. “Okay.”
His fingers slide between your legs.
You nearly collapse.
He holds you tighter, chest firm against your back, one arm wrapped around your middle while his hand finds you with devastating ease. He touches you like he has thought about it before, like he already knows where to press, where to slow down, where to circle until your hips jerk helplessly into his palm.
Wetness slickening his fingers as the pads circle your clit.
“Mark,” you gasp.
His mouth opens against your neck.
You feel his smile.
“Yeah?”
You hate that he sounds smug.
You hate that it turns you on.
His fingers glide through your folds, gathering the slickness there, mixing with the hot water running over both of you. He groans again, deeper this time.
“You’re so wet.”
“It’s the shower.”
His laugh is low and mean in the sweetest way.
“No, it’s not.”
You cover your face with one wet hand.
He immediately catches your wrist and lowers it.
“Don’t hide.”
“I’m embarrassed.”
“I know.” His fingers find your clit, and your body jerks. “It’s cute.”
“It’s not cute.”
“It is.”
He rubs slow circles over you, barely enough, teasing more than giving. Your hips chase his hand, and he holds you still with infuriating ease.
“Mark.”
“What?”
“Don’t be mean.”
“I’m not being mean.” His voice is soft, almost innocent. “I’m being practical.”
You huff a broken laugh despite yourself. “Practical?”
“We’re saving water.”
“You’re—” Your words dissolve into a whimper when he presses harder. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re trying not to come on my fingers.”
Your whole body goes hot.
“Mark.”
His teeth graze your shoulder, not biting, just enough to make your stomach flip.
“What?” he murmurs. “Too honest?”
You can’t answer.
Not when he is touching you like that, not when his cock is still hard against your back, not when his other hand returns to your breast, thumb circling your nipple in time with his fingers between your thighs.
It is too much.
The steam. The water. Mark’s body wrapped around yours. The fact that you are not dating, not together, not anything simple, and yet he is holding you like he has wanted this for weeks.
Maybe months.
Your voice trembles. “Have you thought about this?”
Mark’s fingers slow.
For a second, only the shower speaks.
Then his mouth presses against your ear.
“Yes.”
Your heart stutters.
“How much?”
His grip tightens.
“A lot.”
Your knees nearly buckle.
Mark catches you, his laugh breathless and rough.
“That got to you?”
You turn your face away, shy and burning.
His hand leaves your breast to cup your jaw, guiding you just enough for him to see your profile.
“Ask me,” he says.
You swallow. “Ask what?”
“What I thought about.”
Your lashes flutter.
“Mark…”
“Ask.”
Your whole body throbs at the command.
“What did you think about?”
His fingers start moving again.
Slow, lazy and cruel.
“This,” he says. “You trying not to look. Pretending you’re not curious.”
You whimper.
“Pretending you don’t notice when I come out of the shower.”
“I don’t—”
“You do.”
You hate him.
You hate that he’s right.
His mouth drags over your neck.
“I thought about getting you exactly like this,” he admits, voice rough now. “All shy and wet and shaking against me.”
Your hand flies to his wrist between your thighs, but again, not to stop him.
Just to hold on.
“I thought about touching you until you couldn’t pretend anymore.”
You sob softly.
His fingers circle faster.
“Thought about how you’d sound.”
“Mark.”
“And I was right.”
You come with his name breaking in your mouth.
It hits you hard, sharp and hot, your body folding forward as much as his arm will allow. Mark holds you through it, hand working you gently while you tremble, his mouth pressed to your temple, murmuring soft praise into your wet skin.
“That’s it. There you go. I’ve got you.”
Your legs shake so badly that he has to turn you carefully, pressing your back against the tile so you don’t slip.
You stare up at him, breathless.
For the first time, you let yourself look.
Really look.
At his wet hair falling into his eyes. The water running down his chest. His flushed face. The way he is still hard, still wanting, still trying so visibly to be careful with you that it makes your chest ache.
Mark notices your gaze drop.
His mouth curves.
“There it is.”
You look back up too quickly.
He laughs softly, bracing one hand against the wall beside your head.
“You can look.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were.”
“I was not.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
You glare at him.
He leans down, his lips brushing yours but not quite kissing you.
“Want me to stop?”
Your answer comes too fast. “No.”
His eyes darken.
The first kiss is careful.
The second is not.
Your arms slide around his neck, pulling him closer as he presses you back against the tile, his body fitting between your thighs. The water runs over both of you, hot and steady, and everything gets messier from there — mouths slipping, hands wandering, Mark groaning when your fingers finally wrap around him.
“Fuck,” he breathes against your mouth.
You freeze, suddenly shy again.
He catches your wrist gently.
“Don’t stop unless you want to.”
You look up at him through wet lashes.
He looks wrecked.
Completely wrecked.
That gives you courage.
You touch him again, slowly, and his forehead drops to yours.
“Jesus,” he mutters. “You’re going to kill me.”
“You’re dramatic.”
“You’re naked and touching me in the shower.”
“That’s your fault.”
“My fault?”
“You suggested saving water.”
He laughs, but it breaks into a groan when your hand moves again.
His hips twitch.
Your face heats at the feel of him in your palm, hard and heavy and unmistakably affected by you.
By you.
Not some almost-girlfriend. Not some roommate. Not some friend he keeps blurring lines with.
You.
Mark kisses you again, deeper this time, then pulls back just enough to look at you.
“We should get out,” he says, voice strained.
You blink. “What?”
“If we keep going in here, I’m going to lose my mind, and I don’t want you slipping.”
The fact that he can still be responsible right now is offensive.
You stare at him and then you softly laugh.
Mark frowns. “What?”
“You’re really telling me to get out of the shower for safety?”
“Yes.”
“While naked.”
“Yes.”
“After making me come on your fingers.” You whisper teasingly.
His face flushes.
Actually flushes.
You gasp softly, delighted. “Oh my God.”
“Don’t.”
“You’re embarrassed.”
“I am not.”
“You are.”
He turns the water off with a little too much force.
“We’re getting out.”
You giggle as he reaches for a towel, but the sound dies when he wraps it around you himself, careful and tender, rubbing warmth back into your arms. The steam clings to the mirror. Water drips from his hair onto his shoulders. He is still naked, still hard, still standing close enough to make your thoughts scatter, but now he is looking at you with something softer than hunger.
Something scarier.
“You okay?” he asks softly.
Your heart squeezes.
You nod. “Yeah.”
His brows lift.
You smile faintly. “Yes, Mark.”
He relaxes.
“Good.”
You should leave it there.
You should go get dressed. Pretend this was a weird, water-saving incident. Laugh awkwardly over coffee and never talk about how his hands felt on you or how quickly he made you fall apart.
Instead, you reach for his towel.
Mark looks down at your hand.
Then up at your face.
Your fingers curl in the fabric.
“I didn’t say we had to stop,” you whisper.
The air goes still.
Mark’s expression changes slowly.
The soft concern remains, but heat curls through it, darkening his eyes.
“No?”
You shake your head.
He steps closer.
“Then where do you want me?”
Your breath catches.
You glance toward the hallway.
Toward his room.
Mark follows your gaze.
When he looks back at you, his smirk has returned.
Worse than before.
Warmer than before.
“Bed?” he asks.
You hide your face in the towel. “Don’t say it like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you already know.”
Mark laughs softly, then scoops you up like you weigh nothing.
You squeal, grabbing his shoulders. “Mark!”
“What?” He carries you out of the bathroom, dripping wet and grinning. “We’re conserving energy now.”
“You’re so annoying.”
“You like me.”
You press your burning face into his neck.
That is not an answer.
Or maybe it is.
Mark’s arms tighten around you as he carries you to his room, the apartment quiet around you, the water outage forgotten, the line between friends and something more already washed clean off the floor.
how do you think the variants would be like in bed?
this mark is a complete freak. he doesn’t know the words ‘be gentle’ mean, because he wants to ensure that you’re pregnant with his baby. the harshest positions where he knows his cock will hit your cervix, he doesn’t even chase your pleasure but his own—mohawk, shiesty, sinister, target, headcap.
mark isn’t topping you, you’re topping him. he’ll lay back, whimper and moan as you take him entirely. he doesn’t fight back, his hands instinctively go to your hips as his eyes roll back. he can’t feel his legs afterwards, but he’s still able to give you aftercare even though he needs it more—main, full mask, lensless, shiesty.
complete bottom, he’s the one taking you. whether you’re using a strap or your own cock, he’s taking anything. mark doesn’t want to top you because he’s prone to premature ejaculations. he knows the second he’s inside or around you that he’s cumming on the spot, hence why he’d rather you take charge. mark wants you to ruin him, then pepper his face with soft kisses and aftercare—full mask, main.
sketched out an entire plan on how he’ll fuck you, he’s persist. mark gets slightly frustrated when you don’t follow the script he made in his head, and how he has to punish you, which was also unplanned. his main goal is to cum deeply inside you and get you pregnant, he wants to make sure his viltrumite bloodline continues on—omni, viltrum, sinister.
tags: drinking mention + cliche truth or dare mention as well. just a blurb. nsfw is pretty slight imo but i'm still tagging it as such. reader isn't gendered even if the terms bf/gf and camgirl are used. VERY SHORT PIECE FKMAOFODO SORRY
even though mark's not apart of the guardians of the globe, he's pretty much an honorary member anyway. they always have him over and when the nights are long, rex always manages to slip everyone a cup of alcohol or beer he's managed to hide from rudy (but he knows because of the paper trail he can easily access when audting the card cecil agreed to loan the team for miscellaneous resources).
people get drunk and their tongue begins to unravel at breakneck speed. rex starts a juvenile game of truth or dare. everyone plays along, even rudy who's nervously new to drinking manages to join. it doesn't matter when the briefest of touches feel like fireworks and words jumble together clumsily.
mark is a little shit when he wants to be, so he asks rex about his favorite sexual fantasy. rex responds in kind; he's always wanted to get head in a dingy alleyway for a heroic deed. it's cliche, but it makes sense, and everyone laughs.
no silence lapses over them, but rex turns the question back on mark just as quick. he gives mark a look, "and you? what is your fantasy, mr invincible?" rex drawls and everyone laughs, even mark.
mark's drunk so he doesn't think twice of admitting that he loves it when random people say they'd let him do anything. when strangers have something good and insanely sexual to say about him.
"that's objectification, mark." rudy will point out, but he just has a blissed out grin.
"it's a fantasy," mark says, frowning but speaking good naturedly anyway.
what the guardians dont know is that he goes home to his cam girl (gender neutral) gf/bf and sits in the corner stroking himself when people pay you to moan his hero name.
mark grayson who looks forward to wake up next to you in the morning, in the shared bed of yours and his, he looks forward to seeing that beautiful face of yours, and your sleepy face when you snore, and he would kiss you awake every single time, you'd giggle and your face would scrunch up when his hands playfully play with your cheeks or mess with your hair and make it more messier, and kiss your hair, your cheeks, your jaw, those lips, everywhere he could, and he'd smile and tell you good morning to that pretty face every time when he gets the chance.
mark grayson who would make you breakfast in bed, every day if you'd let him, maybe he'd wake up before you and go to the kitchen, heat up the stove and make you something sweet, maybe french toast with some fresh strawberries picked from a few bushes in the backyard and a few berries layered on top, with a bit of butter and cream on the side, maybe make a cute face on the toast with the syrup bottle somehow even if it's botched because he's kind of dorky like that, and then he'd wake you up with a plate on the bed and his sheepish grin would greet your sleepy face, and you'd eat and he'd watch you while sitting on the bed.
mark grayson who loves doing daily mundane stuff with you because that's everything he could do all day, besides being a superpowered alien and trying to navigate the world and making sure it doesn't end on his watch, whatever you do, especially when you shower (yeah he'd join you and help wash you too), watching a random sitcom show, movie, maybe doing some chores like laundry or cleaning up a spill, is literally fun in his eyes, heck if you took interest in his comics hobby, he would ramble to you all day while cuddling with you on his chest would make his day, just doing anything with you would make him super happy.
mark grayson would take you flying, fly to see the sky, fly to see maybe the popular cities outside of chicago, maybe different states, maybe a different country, wherever you want to go he'll take you in a heart beat, maybe stargaze laying on the soft meadow grass, with you by his side, and you guys could just talk about anything, life, and he would look at you like your the prettiest thing he's ever seen in his life, yeah he'd even compare saying that your more beautiful then the aurora borealis.
mark grayson who every time has moments where he spirals or is just so anxious about things, about a lot of things, can you blame the guy for how much he goes through literally? he'd spill it all out of his mind to you and you stay like a constant, just being there for him every time, it helps him more than you know, because life can be shitty but you both had each other and that's more than he can ask for, besides saving earth and making sure reality doesn't split apart at the seams, you sure as hell make his life feel a lot lighter.
mark grayson who can be a sentimental guy, you would find him maybe sitting on the rooftop literally with his eyes a little teary just reminiscing the day where you both met, and he had to admit, he probably fell in love first sight when he saw you, in the hallway of the locker rooms filled with teenage angst when he was just an idiot guy who didn't know what he was doing, and was blabbering about how grateful he is to have a girlfriend like you, god he would marry you, when should he marry you? and you snort and tap him on the head teasingly, before dragging him back inside the house.
mark grayson who would be a cheesy guy, have some soft romantic music playing in the background, with the living room dimmed and maybe you both ate dinner, which was forgotten in the background with waxed melted candles lit up at the wooden table and for awhile, he would spin you around and you both would dance, his forehead touching yours, and he would kiss you, his hands on your waist as soft laughter left your lips along with his chuckle, knowing that this is where he would rather be, with you.
can i request something fluff about being mark grayson’s crush??
being mark grayson's crush!
mark grayson is not subtle in the slightest when he has a crush. no matter how well he thinks he hides it, you're always able to tell.
he's so whipped for you it's pathetic, he'd do absolutely anything for you, even though you're not dating. he thinks maybe doing favors for you and making you happy will make you want him, but he also does things for you simply because he loves to see you smile :')
he buys you gifts randomly, pays for any outing you guys have, and sends you daily texts like "i hope you have a good day! :)" or "this made me think of you!" with a picture of a comic he found (which he will definetly buy for you), he never lets you lift a finger when you're with him!
his constant willingness to make you happy perform tasks for you is one of the ways you found out he was totally whipped for you. he's just too friendly, too attentive, you had to have caught on eventually.
another way you notice his little crush is in the way he behaves when he's near you. he's tripping over his words frequently, but it's only because you're looking at him all pretty like that! his face is flushed a rosy pink and his heart is fluttering a frantic rhythm every time you give him a friendly hug, or whenever your hand lingers for too long on his bicep.
he makes it impossible not to tell, because this man has a baddd staring problem. and he'll get so embarrassed when you catch him staring too. you could be talking to someone else in front of him and he'll be zoned out on your face, memorizing your features for the hundredth time, only snapping out of it when you say his name. he loves the way his name sounds on your tongue :3
you've come to him in the past for your relationships struggles, and he'd always been so understanding, comforting you and giving you advice to the best of his ability. but there was no way to ignore the heartbreak in his eyes when you talked about your partners. whole time he's just thinking about how much better he could treat you, how much happier you would be if he was your boyfriend! he just wants to see you happy :(
but, of course, being the shy boy he is, he never confesses his feelings to you. why do that when he can just act like your boyfriend? he's avoiding the pain of rejection and possibly ruining your friendship, is what he tells himself.
of course there are some boundaries that separate being a friend and a partner. he wishes every day he could hold you and kiss you the way he wants to, the way he needs to. he wishes he could have you all to himself alllll the time!
for now he'll just be at your every beck and call and pray that someday you grace him with the love he craves oh so badly!
a/n: oh em gee this is my first request!! O_o TYSM!!! i tried my best :)) he is just so cutie i love him
Imagining Mark trying to work out one day (he’s gotta ward away the dad bod somehow, he needs to maintain a certain look for his hero suit!) but keeps getting interrupted bc three year old Theo keeps furiously waddling in his way, trying to chase nine year old Leo down after he keeps teasing him then running away so Mark just snatches them up and starts using both of them as his weights instead
You can tell i’m somehow already missing the baby phase even though we’ve gotten plenty of babLeo and Theo content in the last fic 💔 but i’m so excited to see this story unfold!! You’ve genuinely become one of the only ao3 writers i keep up with tbh! 😭
I completely understand what you mean, even though I love Teen!Leo and Child!Theo, I still have moments where I think how cute baby Leo was, how cute toddler Theo would be and it makes me want to write more about them at those little ages!
Thank you so much!! I am so glad that you're enjoying, I'm really excited for people to see where this story goes and I hope that you continue to enjoy!
Working out with a toddler and a young child was hard work, but Mark had a certain.. look he had to upkeep. He couldn't fit in his suit if he had a gut.
So, Mark was in the living room, attempting to do push-ups while the boys were somewhere down the hall.
Suddenly, he heard it.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
He paused mid push-up and glanced toward the hallway.
Nothing.
Mark narrowed his eyes in suspicion when he saw a blur shot past the doorway.
Leo was laughing hysterically. "Dad! Theo's trying to bite me!"
"I NOT!" Theo's little voice called from farther down the hall,
A second, much angrier blur went past him. Theo waddled after his brother at top speed, little arms pumping furiously.
"COME BACK!"
Leo grinned. "No!"
Mark closed his eyes.
There went the peaceful workout.
He lowered himself back into another push-up.
One. Two. Three -
"MY DINO!" Theo screamed.
"It's not your dino!"
"MY DINO!"
"It was on the couch!"
"MYYYYY DINO!"
Mark sighed. He managed another set.
Four. Five. Five and a half.. Six-
Tiny feet thundered past again.
Leo practically flew around the corner.
"Leo!" Theo whined.
"Can't catch me!"
Theo let out an outraged toddler gasp and charged after him.
Mark watched them disappear. "...Good luck, buddy." He murmured under his breath.
He somehow managed another set before Leo came sprinting back through.
"Hey Dad."
"Leo."
"I'm winning."
"Congratulations." Mark said with a small sigh leaving his lips.
Leo grinned and ran off again.
A moment later Theo appeared. He stopped when he saw Mark.
His attention span immediately abandoning the chase.
"Daddy."
"Hey, buddy."
Theo looked around in confusion. "...Leo?"
Mark pointed down the hallway.
Theo gasped dramatically. "THERE." Then he charged after his brother again.
Mark got through exactly seven more push-ups before Leo came running through the room once more.
This time Theo was gaining.
The toddler launched himself forward and he missed completely. He face planted into the carpet, letting out a small 'ufh' when he landed.
Mark and Leo both froze. Mark was already cringing, expecting Theo to burst out sobbing.
Theo slowly lifted his head, rubbing his face and stared around. For a moment, he found a random cheerio on the ground and popped it into his mouth.
"Ew." Leo murmured.
Theo looked up from the ground and blinked. "...Leo?" He blinked, if he'd completely forgotten what he'd been doing.
Leo began to laugh uncontrollably. "Dad, he hit his head so hard he literally reset!" Leo laughed.
Theo immediately remembered what he was doing when he saw Leo. His eyes narrowed. "LEO." And off he went again.
Mark finally decided he'd had enough.
The next time Leo ran by, Mark reached out and casually snatched him out of the air.
"HEY!" Leo whined.
Then Theo came barreling around the corner.
Mark grabbed him too.
Theo immediately pointed at Leo. "Bad."
Leo gasped. "What?! I did nothing!"
"Bad Leo."
"I didn't do anything!"
"Bad."
"Dad!"
"The jury has spoken," Mark said.
Theo nodded. Then immediately got distracted by Mark's shirt. "Ooo." He paused, then he poked Mark's chest, then his nose, then grabbed both of Mark’s cheeks. "Daddy."
"Yes?"
"Up."
"You are up."
Theo looked down towards the ground then back at Mark and gave him that wide smile. "More up.".
That gave Mark an idea.
A terrible idea that you wouldn’t approve of, but that meant it would be the best idea.
"You two interrupted my workout." Mark declared.
Leo immediately looked suspicious. "Dad..." He said slowly.
Mark grinned. "Oh yeah."
Before either boy could protest, Mark dropped onto his back and lifted both of them into the air.
Theo squealed in delight, so loudly that it nearly shattered Mark’s eardrums and Leo covered his ears.
"WHOOOA!" Theo squealed.
Mark lowered them. Then lifted them again.
Theo laughed so hard he almost hiccupped.
"GAIN!"
"Again?"
"GAIN!"
Up they went.
"GAIN!"
And again.
"GAIN!"
And again.
"I'm creating a monster," Mark muttered.
Leo was laughing too now. "Dad, we're not weights." Leo said as if Mark actually didn’t know that.
"Could've fooled me."
Theo was giggling like crazy as he looked towards Mark again. "Daddy." He started seriously.
"What?" Mark questioned.
"Fly."
"No." Mark said, shaking his head.
"Fly." He said even more firmly than before.
"We're inside." Mark pointed out.
"Fly."
"No."
Theo frowned slightly then looked towards Leo.
"Leo fly."
Leo immediately lit up as he wiggled out of Mark’s grip. "Yeah, I can do that."
Before he could move, Mark grabbed him and pulled him back down. "No flying in the house."
"Aww."
Theo nodded sadly. "No fly." He stared at nothing for a before he pointed upward. "Fly."
"You just agreed with me." Mark frowned.
"Fly." Theo demanded, but Mark didn’t give in.
Mark continued to use Theo and Leo as weights for a bit longer.
Honestly? This workout was harder than lifting cars.
Cars didn't wiggle. Cars didn't scream. Cars didn't try to put their fingers in your eyes.
When you got home, you saw Mark, who was flat on his back.
"Workout going well?" you asked with a smirk.
Mark stared at the ceiling as if this was the worst thing in the world. "I used to bench press cars."
"Mhm."
"I fought and won against Conquest."
"Uh huh."
"I've survived being thrown into mountains and buildings."
You nodded. "Sounds impressive." You said with a small smirk.
Mark weakly pointed at the children. "They're stronger."
Theo immediately jumped onto Mark’s stomach when he heard that. "Strong!" Theo squealed.
The force of it nearly knocked the air out of Mark, he held his stomach for a moment before he groaned.
Leo burst out laughing at that, as if seeing Mark hurt was so funny while Mark playfully glared at him.
But, hearing the laughter made Mark grin slightly.
The dad bod could wait.
For now, he had two boys using him as furniture.. And maybe a trampoline as well.
No triggers other than you being drunk lol. Just some good ole' fluff. William is also a bit of a (loving) hater.
William had been dreading this all week.
Not because he didn't trust you.
Well... that wasn't it. Not exactly.
It was more that he had spent the last year watching you and Mark become so disgustingly, painfully, nauseatingly in love that he'd developed a permanent eye twitch.
The two of you held hands everywhere.
You shared food and fed Mark like he was a baby.
You wore each other's clothes.. which brought up a very strange convo when Mark ended up accidentally wearing something of yours to class one day.
You had matching phone wallpapers.
It was revolting to William.
"Just so we're clear," William said as the two of you walked down the street towards the house party that William had so kindly invited you too. "No drinking too much."
"I won't." You nodded.
"No accepting drinks from strangers."
"I won't."
"No wandering off."
You gasped dramatically. "William."
"Yes?"
"You wound me."
William narrowed his eyes. "You once got distracted by a weird looking bug and followed it into traffic."
"That happened one time."
"It happened three times."
You scoffed. If William had seen the bugs, then he would have followed it too!
William groaned.
The only reason he'd agreed to bring you without Mark was because Mark had been called away for hero stuff.
Apparently weird space attacks didn't care about social schedules.
Unfortunately.
Because William would have preferred if Mark came. Mostly because then you became Mark's responsibility.
Instead, you were his... Which was somehow worse.
It wasn't that William didn't like you. Far from it. William adored you, regardless of how disgusting you and Mark were together. But you were a handful sometimes.. and William didn't feel like dealing with sulking Mark if anything happened.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Three hours later.
William was regretting every decision he'd ever made. From being born to now.
"Where's [Name]?" he asked literally everyone as he traveled down the party.
He had lost you when you had proclaimed you were running to the bathroom.. never to return to him.
Nobody knew where you were. No one even knew who you really were.
Fantastic. Wonderful.
He was going to get murdered by Invincible.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Elsewhere, Mark finally arrived to the party. The emergency had turned out to be much easier to deal with than he had expected and he had your phone location so he knew you were still here.
When he had landed nearby and jogged his way to the party, he couldn't stop the smile on his face.
You had no idea he was coming. He'd wanted to surprise you. Maybe steal a few minutes together. Maybe walk you back to your dorm.
Maybe-
A body slammed into him, catching him completely off guard.
"MARK!"
Mark barely caught himself. His arms wrapped around whoever or whatever hit him out of instinct so they didn't fall together.
His eyes looked down and it was you.. and you?
Well.. You were very obviously drunk.
Not blackout drunk. Not falling-over drunk... yet.
But definitely drunk.
Your eyes lit up like Christmas morning. "YOU'RE HERE."
Mark blinked. "...Hi."
You threw your arms around his neck, nearly knocking you both over. "Oh my God!" You squealed as if you hadn't just seen him a few hours ago.
Mark laughed nervously. "Okay."
"No, listen." You grabbed both sides of his face, staring at him very importantly. "This is important."
Mark immediately became concerned. "What?"
"You are...."
"What?"
"So..."
You squinted at him.
"So pretty."
Mark stared at you.
You nodded at him. "Pretty."
His face immediately turned red. "Oh."
"Very pretty."
"Thanks."
"You have nice eyelashes that I am jealous of."
Mark looked more red than a tomato. "[Name]"
"And your hair." You reached up, starting to mess with it gently. "Soft."
"You've had alcohol." Mark said quickly.
"You have freckles."
"I do not. That's dirt from my fighting earlier."
"You do."
"I don't."
You squinted harder, then nodded. "Okay, You're right.. that's dirt."
"Thank you for agreeing finally." Mark teased, pretending to sound exhausted.
"But you're still cute."
Mark covered his face. "Oh my God."
It got worse. Much worse.
Because drunk you apparently had absolutely no filter when it came to your love for Mark.
William finally found you twenty minutes later... Only to discover you sitting on Mark's lap. In the middle of the couch.
Holding his face. Again.
"Your eyes are so brown."
Mark looked like he was literally being held hostage right now.
"They're not that brown."
"They are."
"They're really not."
"They are, like beautiful.. coconuts? No.. like.. Topaz! That's what I meant!"
Mark sighed. "Thanks, babe."
You immediately kissed his nose.
William made a noise of genuine suffering. Like seeing this was the most disgusting thing he had ever witnessed in his entire life. "Oh, come on."
Neither of you heard him.
"You're my favorite person," you informed Mark.
Mark’s eyes lit up right away when you said that.
William gagged at the sight.
"You hear that?" Mark asked smugly.
"Shut up." William hissed.
"Favorite person, William. You were kicked out of first place."
"I was never in first place." William said, rolling his eyes.
You had finally looked over your shoulder and towards William. "Oh hi William."
"Hi." He frowned.
"You look upset." You blinked, clearly confused.
"I wonder why." William remarked sarcastically to you.
You thought about it for a moment, head hazy and memory fuzzy. So, you went with the only logical thing in your mind right now. You pointed towards Mark, who blinked. "Because he's too handsome and it's just not fair?" You asked.
"Nope." That was the last straw, William turned.
"William-"
"Nope."
"William wa-"
"I'm leaving."
"William!"
"You two deserve each other.. Disgusting. I need something more to drink because of you two."
Then he walked away.
Because there was only so much disgustingly cute stuff he could take when he was helplessly single right now.
A little while later, Mark finally managed to convince you to leave.
The second the cold air hit your face, you leaned against him.
"Mark?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you."
Mark smiled softly at you. "I love you too."
"No." You shook your head towards him. "I mean like… Like a lot."
Mark laughed. "Good."
"No, listen." You frowned as if Mark wasn’t understanding.
"I'm listening."
"If you were a worm..."
"Oh no. Not this again." Mark murmured.
"...I'd still date you."
"That's your standard?" Mark teased.
"It's a very high standard. Would YOU date worm me?" You asked him with a small frown like he was offending you.
"Obviously." Mark scoffed before he smirked at you slightly. "You are ridiculous. I'd date you if you were a worm, frog, or a ghost."
"Yay, you're so sweet!" You said happily, clearly pleased with his response.
"Mm, and you're drunk."
"Mhm."
"And adorable."
"Mhm."
Mark kissed the top of your head as he pulled you closer to him.
You immediately snuggled against him.
And as he walked you home, Mark couldn't stop smiling.
Because sure, sober you was sweet.
But drunk you apparently thought he was the most attractive person on the planet.
And honestly? He was going to gloat about this the rest of his life and certainly tease you when you sobered up in the morning.
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