Missing Your Touch || soft dom!Sokka x wife!reader
Warning: MDNI!, breeding kink, not that great at smut… you’ve been warned, pnv, underage = BLOCKED sorry not sorry!!!
Synopsis: Sokka took you serious for once and respected your decision to take things slowly after having so many kids. However…you miss his touch and regret saying anything.
Pt1 Hands To Yourself
It had been a few months since your whole “we have too many kids” talk, and Sokka had actually toned things down. Yes, you were still intimate—but not nearly as much as you’d like… how ironic.
You think you might’ve gotten used to Sokka always having the hots for you, because when he finally calmed down, you felt almost… ignored. Silly as it sounded, you almost regretted saying anything. Every time you saw him, you wanted to pounce. He always looked incredibly handsome especially when he slipped into that “dad” mode, or when he was working. Something in you ignited every single time he was near.
Especially now.
You were visiting him late at night in his work shed. Tools and random parts were scattered everywhere, his head buried in whatever he was building. But all you could focus on were his arms—buff, flexing under his sleeveless tunic.
He looked so damn good.
“Hey, baby. You busy?”
He set his tools down, pushing his goggles to hang around his neck.
“No, princess. Never for you, what’s the matter?” You let out a small huff as you walked toward him.
“I dunno… I just miss you, that’s all.”
He smiled, opening his arms, silently beckoning you to come closer. You did, wrapping your arms around his torso and resting your chin on his chest.
“Miss me for what?” he chuckled, glancing down at you. “I’ve been here all day.”
You shook your head, looking up at him with wide, soft eyes. “No, honey… I mean I missed you…”
Your voice came out more needy than you intended. It took Sokka a second but when it clicked, a grin spread across his face.
“Oh—OH, you mean— like— oh, okay, let me just finish here and—” You shoved him back against the table. His tools rattled from the impact.
“No more waiting. I need you now.”
Your hands slid to his waist, already working at his belt. You undid it in seconds, tugging his pants down just enough to feel him harden under your touch.
His breath hitched. “Baby… wa—wait, the door—”
“Shh. I locked it on the way in.”
You held his gaze as you dropped to your knees, pulling his pants and underwear down completely. He was fully hard now. Slowly, you leaned in, licking from the base to the tip, lingering there teasing, swirling, tasting. The faint saltiness made your lips tingle as you licked it away.
“Fuck… baby, I th—thought you said you wanted to ease up on the sex…”
You spat lightly on him, wrapping your hand around him and stroking slowly.
“I changed my mind. Is that a problem?” He shook his head immediately “Good.”
You gave him one last slow lick before taking him fully into your mouth, moving steadily, deeper each time.
“F-fuck, baby—” he whimpered, grabbing your hair, guiding you. Each push sent him further down your throat. A small gag slipped out, but you swallowed it down, breathing through your nose, eyes still locked on him.
The heat between your legs built fast, making you press your thighs together as a quiet moan vibrated against him.
His head fell back with a groan. One hand tightened in your hair, the other coming to your throat as his control slipped, hips starting to move on their own.
Tears pricked your eyes, spit trailing down your chin as your hands gripped his thighs. He was close you could feel it in the way his thrusts turned uneven.
His whimpers became louder "Oh shit—baby, I’m—f-fuck—”
A few more broken thrusts, and warmth flooded your throat. He kept moving through it, riding it out with rough, breathy sounds until he finally slowed. When he pulled back, you swallowed, wiping your chin with your sleeve.
“You did—wow… that was amazing.”
You stood, tugging some of your clothes off, letting them fall one by one.
“Sokka?”
He looked at you, those steel-blue eyes dark with need. “I want you to fuck me.” A faint blush spread across his cheeks.
“Whatever you say, baby.”
He spun you around and lifted you onto the edge of the table, wasting no time pulling your panties aside. He dragged himself along you first, making you shiver before slowly pushing inside.
“You’re so wet, baby.”
You whimpered, gripping his shoulders. The stretch felt so good— like you’d been missing it. He started slow, careful, controlled. But once he felt you relax, he picked up speed, hands gripping your hips tighter.
“Fuck, Sokka— yes, please f-faster.”
He listened, moving quicker, harder. Your gasp turned into a moan as he kissed you, messy and deep, swallowing every sound. The shed filled with the lewd sounds of both of you— breath, movement, everything.
He pulled away, a string of spit breaking between you before he buried his face in your neck, biting and kissing, finding that sensitive spot that made you lose it.
Your moans grew louder, more desperate, your walls tightening around him.
“You’re doing so well, baby… h-hold on just a little longer,” he murmured, thumb brushing your lips. His thrusts deepened as his hand slipped between you, circling your clit.
Your back arched, a broken whine leaving your throat. “M-more deeper—please.”
He obeyed, losing rhythm as he got closer. You were right there with him.
“Fuck, baby… I’m gonna fill you up… you want that? You want another baby?”
The way he moved, the pressure, the pace—it sent you over the edge.
“I’m cumming—f-fuck, Sokka please!” Your body tensed and released, gripping him tight as you came. He kept moving through it, chasing his own high until he finally stilled with a low groan.
Neither of you moved at first. Just heavy breathing in the quiet room. He slowly pulled out, eyes dropping between your legs with a lazy grin before pushing two fingers back in.
You jolted. “Shh… it’s okay.”
He leaned down, kissing you softly. “I knew you’d come back for more. You like it, don’t you? You like it when i fill you up?” you lazily nodded.
You whimpered against his lips, your body already missing him. Without thinking, you grabbed his hand, shoving his fingers into your mouth, sucking them clean.
That seemed to snap something in him. His ears flushed bright red. You glance down with a smirk and just like that, he was hard again.
“You’re not leaving until you’re filled with all of me.” He lifted you off the table, your legs wrapping around him as he carried you to the mattress pad in the corner, laying you down gently.
The rest of your clothes disappeared quickly, your bodies pressing together again as he lined himself up again.
He paused just long enough to kiss you softly. “I love you so much, baby.”
Synopsis: You and Sokka married, both of you stubborn, devoted, and entirely too in love. Same year you had your first child and while you were overjoyed, something in Sokka shifted. He didn’t just want a family. He wanted a legacy. (art from Pinterest)
Pt2 Missing Your Touch
Sokka had always been an enthusiastic person. As a child, he threw himself into everything. Training, hunting, leading, even his terrible ideas. So when he married you at twenty-two, he made a promise to give you everything he had.
And Sokka, unfortunately, had a lot to give.
You had your first child that same year, a beautiful baby girl with your features and Sokka’s entire personality packed into a tiny, chubby, unstoppable body.
“Look at her!” Sokka beamed one afternoon, crouched low as your daughter toddled across the floor, clutching a poorly carved toy boomerang. “Baby, she’s perfect. She’s already a warrior.”
“She just tried to eat snow like five minutes ago,” you replied, leaning against the doorway.
“She’s innovative,” he corrected proudly.
You scoffed into a laugh, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek. He turned his head just enough to steal one from you instead. That should’ve been your first warning, because something in Sokka clicked that day. And from that moment on…he wanted more.
More laughter, more chaos, more chubby grabby hands, more little feet running across the ice floors.
More you.
And unfortunately you Sokka didn’t believe in doing anything halfway.
•••
You should’ve known something was up the second Gran Gran looked at you like that.
You were sitting beside her, helping sew tiny fur-lined coats for the expecting mothers in the village. The needle moved steadily in your hands, but Gran Gran’s gaze lingered on you, sharp and knowingly.
“What?” you asked, squinting at her suspiciously. She smiled slowly, eyes soft but entirely too perceptive.
“I think,” she said, patting your knee, “we should make one more… for you.”
You blinked for a second registering her words, “Gran Gran no.”
She hummed nodding. You just laughed it off shaking your head, she’s ridiculous.
Two months later, you were staring at your round reflection in complete disbelief.
Seven months after that—twins…twin boys!
Sokka nearly lost his mind.
“Two?!” he shouted, pacing the room while you held one baby in each arm. “We made TWO?!” The babies blabbed blowing raspberries with their spit having no idea what was going on.
“You helped,” you said dryly.
He dropped to his knees in front of you, eyes shining like stars in the midnight sky. “This is incredible. This is— this is strategy. This is expansion. This is—”
“This is you not sleeping for the next year,” you cut in. He didn’t even hear a word you said. By the next week, he had already built some ridiculous contraption to carry all three children at once. It had straps, hooks and something that looked suspiciously like a modified fishing net.
“It’s efficient!” he insisted as you stared at it.
You stood with a hand on your hip with your head tilted, “It’s a safety hazard.”
“It’s innovative.” He had his arms open in awe.
“Just like the snow eating, huh?”
He wore a big bright grin “…Exactly like the snow eating.”
The third time truly was NOT your fault. New Year’s Festival, Gran Gran offered to see the kids. The entire village was celebrating, fireworks, alcohol, music, and dance.
And your husband? Your very affectionate, very determined husband decided that the storage tent behind the main hall was “private enough.” Nine months later, you had another daughter…
Gran Gran didn’t even act surprised anymore she just welcomed her with open arms.
Ten years passed in what felt like a blur of laughter, exhaustion, sleepless nights and tiny voices calling for you at all hours of the day.
Six children.
Four girls. Two boys. A home that was never quiet, and a husband who still looked at you like you were the best decision he had ever made.
The village noticed, of course they did.
At first, it was small comments. The little jokes. Nothing malicious just amused, fond observations whispered between mothers while hanging laundry or gathering water.
“I heard Chief Sokka might single-handedly repopulate the Southern Water Tribe.” Giggles followed.
“Oh, please. At this rate, they’ll need a second house.”
“I give it two more years before they run out of names.”
You didn’t hear any of it. Not until your best friend Leila told you.
Leila leaned casually against your open doorway, watching as you expertly balanced a toddler wrapped to your chest while braiding your eldest daughter’s hair.
“You know,” she said, biting back a grin, “people are starting to talk.”
You didn’t even bother to look up. “If this is about the twins putting fish in someone’s boots again, I already handled it. They're cleaning them as we speak.”
“No, no,” she waved you off. “It’s not bad gossip. It’s just—” she paused, trying not to laugh. “They joke about you and Sokka repopulating the entire tribe.”
You stilled. Slowly, you turned your head. You didn’t know how to feel about hearing that.
“…What?”
Leila lost it sitting down her basket and coming inside to take a seat, “I’m serious! Six kids in ten years? People are impressed— a little concerned and afraid but overall impressed.”
You blinked. Then glanced around your home at the scattered toys, the half-finished chores, the sheer number of small humans moving around you.
“Oh…Okay,” you admitted slowly. “That’s…kind of fair.”
•••
You thought about what Leila said all day and decided to bring it up later, casually though.
The house was loud as usual children scattered across the floor, toys half-finished, one of the boys arguing loudly with his sister over something completely nonsensical. Sokka sat beside you, one child asleep across his lap as you folded laundry nearby.
“So,” you started, “The village thinks we’re trying to repopulate the Southern Water Tribe…”
Sokka snorted. “What? That’s just ridiculous.”
You hummed. “I mean… six kids, Sokka. That’s quite a few.”
He paused, seemingly in thought. You narrowed your eyes waiting for a response, “…Sokka?”
He scratched the back of his neck. “Well…” he said carefully. “When you put it like that…”
“Sokka.” Your stern tone hinting for him to spit it out. “I just—” he shrugged, trying (and failing) to look innocent. “I kinda thought we’d have more ya know?.”
Silence fell over the room. You stared at him as you felt your eye began to twitch and fist tighten around the clothes you held.
Sokka being Sokka smiled trying to make it better. Big mistake.
You set the laundry down slowly. “More?” you asked making sure you heard your husband correctly. The room went quiet just the crackle of the fire and Sokka’s very audible gulp.
“Just a few,” he said quickly. “You know round it out.” You stood, he immediately knew he screwed up.
“Sokka have. you lost your damn mind?! A few more— ROUND IT OUT?! Look at me, are I not round enough? I have spit out six children and you want more—“
“Wait—”
“You know what I’m never letting you touch me again.”
“WHAT— hey, that was a joke!” he scrambled to his feet laying his once sleeping baby on his lap on the nearest softest surface. He ran after you calling your name but you paid him no mind.
“You have six children, Sokka. SIX!”
He continued to follow you around your home like a lost otter penguin, “And they’re amazing!”
“You are done.”
“I’m not done—”
“You’re done!”
He continued to follow after you, actual panic setting in. “Baby, be reasonable—”
“Go be a father!” you snapped, gesturing to the chaos of your home.
“Wha- I am a father!”
“Well be more of one!”
“I can do both!” He pleaded.
You stopped, turned, and gave him a look so sharp it could’ve cut an ice berg down. He froze in his tracks, even as the Chief of The Southern Water Tribe his wife is the sole person who can strike fear in him (besides Gran Gran).
“…I’m joking,” he said weakly.
You stared at him a second longer before turning and walking off toward your children playing with the other kids you invited over earlier. Sokka stood there, watching you walk then glanced around at his six kids, then looked back at you.
“I could handle one more...” he muttered.
Across the room, Gran Gran— who had definitely heard everything sighed deeply.
“You,” she called, pointing at Sokka without even looking at him, “are going to be the death of that poor girl.” The other village mothers nodded in agreement.
Sokka frowned into a scowl. “Oh, go home already!” The women paid him no mind.
content.ᐟ 18+, p in v, mating press, praise, swearing, pet names (baby, ma/mama)
he's got you in a mean mating press, the tip of his cock hitting that spongy spot deep inside you while his big warm hands press your calves up to your ears.
"rex! f-fuck-" you whine, "s'too much" you mewl, half from the pleasure and half from the pain.
"cmon..." he tilts his head, teasing. he loves seeing you like this, mascara running, all dumb on his cock. he loves making your legs shake just from the intensity of his thrusts. "you can take it, yeah?" he coos, "you've taken more" and he's right, but you can't imagine taking anymore than this right now.
your legs burn from the way you're positioned, and him driving into you mercilessly doesn't make it any better.
"fuuuuck ma," he groans, throwing his head back, "she's suckin' me in, jesus christ-" he barks a laugh, looking back down at your disheveled form.
"rex, please..." you cry, sniffling and moaning simultaneously. he turns his head to press chaste kisses to your ankle
"please what, baby?" he asks, though he already knows what you want.
you want to speak, but he's so deep inside you you literally feel him in your throat.
that band in your tummy tightens impossibly, and he can tell you're close with the way your pussy is clenching and fluttering around him.
"fuck- y'wanna cum ma?" he asks patronizing sweetness, grinning.
you nod feverishly, "please! rex baby-" you're cut off by a moan as the pad of his thumb hits your clit, rubbing aimlessly in an attempt to push you over the edge.
what you don't know though is that he's been trying not to cum for the past 10 minutes, having to avert his gaze from you every now and then because if he looks at your for a second too long he'll spill.
"yeah- mama go ahead," he rasps, feeling himself hit that peak with you, his balls tightening. "go ahead baby, let me feel you cum around this cock".
the sheer lewdness of his words is enough for the band to snap, your vision going white as you cry out his name.
his orgasm follows yours directly, he growls your name, fingers pressing into the skin of your legs hard enough to bruise.
he pants, coming down from that high, and letting your legs fall back down to his waist from their position on either side of your head. you feel the warmth of his release deep inside of you, and that sensation alone makes you dizzy
"shit, ma..." he shakes his head and huffs a small chuckle, "never gets old, huh?"
a/n: rex calls you ma/mama confirmed?! from this req 🤍
He wouldn't even bother with that. After taking you, if you're outside the bed he'll straighten himself up and his focus will drift elsewhere again. If you're still in the room, though, you can't really say he's much of a gentleman but if he happens to feel like it, he might do a small thing or two for you. Ah…don't even bother voicing that you want care from him. "Ohhh, you poor thing. Look at that, do you really expect me to deal with that, dear?"
If the two of you end up in the bathroom after sex, he won't do much besides lazily stroking your legs under the water with one of those veiny hands. Still if you're in bed after sex, he won't leave…which is something, at least.
B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner's)
His hands, ah the terrible things he has done with those hands. And you are no exception. Like so many things that break under his powerful grip, he enjoys feeling you crack beneath it. Try to resist him, he's addicted to that.
It might sound strange but considering his obsession with taking people's lives, I'd say your wrists and your neck. The places where he can feel your pulse. He'll press a long kiss there, scattering bruises and bite marks along the way. He likes squeezing them,your wrists, your neck until they bruise, to him, you carry the marks of his fingers beautifully. And whenever he isn't in a particularly good mood, he has a habit of grabbing you by those spots.
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)
Inside you and on your face. He definitely won't help you clean it up. He likes watching you deal with cleaning it off yourself, gives him a sense of satisfaction. If you're a good partner, he might even finish in your mouth. Though really, he'll do that whenever he feels like it anyway. He just enjoys seeing you look dependent on him.
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
…if we're talking about before the Angstrom incidents, then in every way he could, he would definitely try to make you his. If he could, there's even a chance he'd get you pregnant,watching something that came from him grow inside you…it would be his favorite show for nine months. There will also be many moments of regret along the way. Damn it, whose idea was it to get you pregnant?!
Now let’s say that after all those terrible things happened, he somehow managed to come back to you. He absolutely wants to eat you. He keeps restraining himself by reminding himself that if he does it, you won't be able to come back again. Though since he returned, you'd most likely notice that something about him is…strange. The way he looks at you, you could say those are hungry looks but you wouldn't be able to tell in what way exactly. During sex, however his behavior would already give some of it away.
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)
Maybe a little just to blow off steam. He has experience but I don't think he'd obsess over it. Considering how he sees people as insects to crush, his superiority complex and the way he behaves like a socially detached person (you can't really call him social,he literally kills everyone around him), I'd say his sex life is pretty dry. Sure, he's a terrifying, sinfulminded guy but there are definitely things that entertain him far more than sex.
F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)
Any position where he can crush you beneath him. Rapid/forceful sex, doggy style, missionary yeah yeah ik classic, yet intensely dominating. Sinister Mark's instability bleeds into the bedroom as well, his quick, abrupt position changes reflect his arrogant, impatient and angry nature. He enjoys inflicting pain and challenge, favoring positions that leave you exhausted. He loves watching you melt like jelly under him.
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)
Is there anything this man doesn't mock? He makes fun of everything, even when you're crying and screaming in pain beneath him. Even when he gives up control in bed, he still doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut. Though honestly, I'm not sure which you'd prefer; his taunts that crawl under your skin or that quiet, simmering version of him when he's angry.
H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)
Medium length. While keeping the length exactly the same, he probably won't trim much of the spread areas.
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)
Could Sinister Mark be romantic? I don't think it's a definite no. He's a disgusting manipulator, someone who treats human emotions like a game. And considering he's obsessive, a terrifying kind of romance awaits you. He will literally give you a ripped out heart as a gift, with that huge, cocky grin of his. In both sex and everyday life, he isn't satisfied if you refuse anything he presents under the name of romance. He will force you to take everything he offers. "You said you didn't want it," He pushed one of your legs back up to your face, pressing you even deeper beneath him. "What made you think something like this could cross your mind, huh?" Cruelly going in and out, he didn't care about the blood spilling from you. In fact, with a wide grin, he watched the part where you joined become even more soaked in blood. "See? Even the blood being pumped inside knows who it belongs to."
J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)
I don't think he would do it until you sent him an explicit photo. He does have instances of masturbating in front of you. However, the hands gripping his dick aren't his they're yours. If he makes you masturbate him, it's almost like he's using you as a servant. Though there was a period when he didn't make you do it. Ever since you bit his cock in an attempt to stop his degrading behavior, he've felt weaker than ever in his life.
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)
If you're a woman, period sex and eating your pussy. He won't even care if your disgusting blood gets on his nose while teasing your clit. He's eager to find new ways to make more blood come. Slapping, pinching, scissoring, vacuuming with his mouth, he'll try everything. He won't leave a single drop of your blood and will dry out your pussy completely.
Overall, the point is to give you dominance. If you can comfortably step into that role, god..it's a perversion where he'll be extremely active. Seeing you that way drives him crazy. Even if the dominance is technically yours, you're still the one being penetrated in every way. He doesn't accept otherwise.
L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)
Walls, corners and edges. He has a fantasy of cornering you. Leaving you to his initiative…ah how sweet, he could devour you right there.
If you're not the one being dominated, you'll definitely make a surprise move, pinching his nipples.
M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
If you don't want the lower part of your body to be paralyzed, don't provoke this man. Whether emotionally or sexually, don't push him. Don't escalate or clash with him emotionally,he can get aggressive. Yes, he will bite.
Ah and let's be honest, there are moments when he's both extremely good-natured and extremely rough, especially when you're dominant. The man's blood is boiling, got it? Be rough with him, try to push him away, god, he'll want to kiss your mouth.
N = NO (Something they wouldn't do, turn offs)
Any move that could make you feel complete dominance. He values his control immensely and is determined not to give it up. Don't get me wrong,he does give you some dominance but this man is deeply uncomfortable with being perceived as weak. Even when you try the cowboy position, the control mostly stays with him. For him,you're just a puppet being bounced on. If you have a dominant or combative personality, I'd say sex feels more like practicing murder than relaxation. Still…sometimes, maybe he'll let you take more control, but damn never mention those moments! He'll argue, claim you're not worth his energy and spout nonsense.
And no matter how much he wants to, he won't actually kill you during sex. Twisted pride makes you the only one he can claim as *mine", even thinking of someone else in your place makes his face sour. Still he might threaten to kill you at any moment while fucking, and of course you don't need to know that he doesn't truly mean it.
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)
He'll fuck your throat as deep as possible until you feel like you might puke. You might even have memorized the scent of his groin. He'll pull back just enough to go all the way down your throat before hitting it again in the blink of an eye. He's incredibly happy with your throat and you're supposed to be too. While giving him oral, he won't let you break eye contact. "Give your man a nice smile," he says, watching with satisfaction as your tears run down your face.
P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)
Fast, rough and merciless. He's ripped your hole a few times already. If he's feeling even a trace of mercy, he might give you time to recover,time during which you can hone your oral skills. "No" and "stop", he doesn't know them. What's a safe word? He ate it. Every time you try to want to use it, he ignores. He's not going to pause in the middle of his pleasure for some stupid word.
Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)
Definitely his favorite. Even in a quick session, he'll brag about how he's messing with your mind. If you stubbornly refuse to give him an orgasm, be ready for him to pinch your special spot, he won't let go until he gets it. Still, you won't be having fast sex in bed or during moments he considers "romantic".But he's a man with zero patience for foreplay.
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)
He loves the expression he sees in your eyes when you're facing danger. He'll try very risky things with you and in his mind, as long as he hasn't killed you, there's no problem. I'll leave the specifics of the risks you'll take up to your imagination.
S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)
I'd give you $10 for every time you made it out alive during sex. You get me.
T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
Imagining Sinister Mark with toys in his hand…I don't know why but it feels a bit absurd. He's also very focused on his own pleasure; he won't sit there just to play with toys for your enjoyment.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Is it unfair, ask him. Don't even whine about what he's done, he thinks, "Compared to what I've done to others, you're the lucky one." And he can manipulate you into believing that too. He'll pressure you to hold back your orgasm to a painfully intense degree, just to humiliate you and make you beg.
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
Not much almost minimal, what you'll hear are his curses, grunts and lewd talk.
But when you takes control, god he'll deliberately make humiliating sounds with that filthy grin on his face. Well he wants you as his partner, to know that you makes him feel good too. Especially while in our hands kehh…
W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)
After another one of his usual rough and merciless sex sessions, he fell asleep just like that without even bothering to clean you up. You, exhausted, also fell asleep, leaving the cleaning for later. Well…when you woke up, cleaning didn't cross your mind even once. The pleasure and pain he put your body through had been so overwhelming that neither you nor he had even noticed that a crack had formed in your pelvis during sex. Congratulations, you found yourself heading to the hospital at the crack of dawn in a state where you could barely walk, forced to watch Sinister Mark threaten the doctors so they would hurriedly take you first in line.
X = X-Ray (Let's see what's going on in those pants, picture or words)
I'd say Sinister Mark is definitely one of the big dicked variants. We even had a private discussion, a little negotiation,with a friend about this and that was our mutual conclusion lol. The length is just right and considering how many times it's ripped the entrance of your hole, the girth is far from thin,though that's mostly because of his roughness. Anyway there's a single prominent vein running along it.
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
I'd say it's neither extremely low nor extremely high. As I said, Sinister Mark is the type to push sex into the background in most situations,yet when he feels like it, he'll tease you too he won't even wait for a convenient moment.
Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Instead of falling asleep right after sex, he'll stare at the ceiling or your face, lost in thought. You shouldn't make the mistake of asking what he's thinking. The neutral expression on his face will twitch slightly, his lips curling upward as he says in that mocking, soft tone, "Are you asking if I'm thinking about another woman?"
A.n: The voting between the variants and Main Mark was interesting…at first strangely enough, Prisoner Mark was leading by a huge margin with around 50 votes and I was just like, "Omg Prisoner Mark fans are lying in wait," and got excited (confession time I was happy because Prisoner Mark's was ready LOL…but the devil knew the truth that plans would change). Then all of a sudden No Goggles Mark started rising,this lasted for almost a day and a half. And suddenly, that damn handsome one took the lead (as it should be helelelele). No Goggles Mark and Main Mark kept fighting nonstop for second place, honestly with just a 6% vote difference, Main Mark could have been first. Still the winner is clear. Watching the voting, I knew exactly what all of you were…could call it a breeding fetish, but I can't prove it…for now.
ANYWAY 234 people participated in the vote. If the number of likes ends up being less than that, I'll eat all of you!
A = Aftercare (What they're like after sex)
Considering he's never done it before and that you're his first partner, he'd definitely lack experience. Still if there were ever a competition for aftercare, he'd easily place in the top three.
Mark is already willing to take care of you normally, but when it comes to the bedroom, I can't even imagine the things he'd do just to take that chance. While you lie there on the bed with your limbs all jelly-like, he presses kisses all over you as if you might die at any moment, breathing in that sweaty scent of yours. If you tell him it's gross and lightly push his face away, he'll simply grab your hand and attack your palm with kisses instead. Whether you're strong or weak, this man is addicted to the idea of you needing him after sex. Aside from cleaning up his cum, he'll take care of you in every other way. The only time he stalls is when you want to take a bath, he'll delay you as much as possible, using every bit of manipulation he can so his cum stays there a little longer…especially if you're a woman.
B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner's)
His eyes. Every time he can see you, rise and fall of your chest, your frown, the tiniest hint of a smile, that mischievous glint in your eyes…being able to see all of it is a blessing for him. Even if he couldn't see you for just a single day, his heart would ache. He would fight for each and every one of those moments as if his life depended on it. Maybe he wouldn't say it out loud but those looks alone were enough for you.
He doesn't discriminate over what belongs to you. But if he had to pick a favorite…it would definitely be your hands. After another day that reminds him of the world's cruelty, he needs to feel your hands roaming over his face. He leans into your touch like a reflex; I'd say he melt in your hands like a little puppy. For him, touch was usually cold and merciless in purpose but with you…he never wants the moments when his hands roam over your body to end. Just touch him, and he'll be consumed for your sake.
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)
Here his favorite is clear, your hole. After being raised as a Viltrumite and with that Viltrumite mindset, he definitely has an obsession with reproduction. If you're infertile or unable to have children due to gender, there might be a hint of melancholy but he will never show it to you. No matter what, being with you and releasing into you is enough. He feels these moments strengthen your bond even more, intensifying his possessiveness.
But if you can get pregnant…it's a celebration for your eyes, a funeral for your body. It feels like you're in an invisible race, ohh yes a race to get you pregnant as fast as possible. He'll try every position best suited for mating. And god during these times, his ability to encourage and motivate will be amplified a hundredfold. Our big hearted Mark, growing as a character while striving to become a father.
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He is trying to obtain knowledge from other lives, plants, animals, and more to make it possible for you to give birth to multiple children at once. Just imagining that you give birth to twins, triplets or quadruplets each time is enough to get him erect. Of course, you are simply grateful for the ever changing abundance on the table, thinking of him as merely a devoted husband.
In general, he loves watching the moments when you take care of your body for any reason. Get used to him staring blankly at you while you change your clothes.
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)
I argue that you will be the first in everything with this man. If you claim otherwise, come and sue me I'll argue it in court. I'd say Viltrumite Mark's inexperience comes from having focused on gaining strength until now. And when the time comes, having met you, I think he will remain loyal to you so I don't expect him to have a bunch of wives like the other Viltrumites. Also even though I'm not sure if the empire provides the necessary reproductive training, this man's common sense is definitely enough for everything. The first couple of nights will be his adjustment rounds and after that, it's as if sex were his profession,he' skilled. So you shouldn't question his virginity, he's definitely going to take this personally.
F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)
Every position where he can hit your g spot, reach your core. His favorite? The breeding position. He also loves any position where you're on your back and he's on top of you. You could tie this to a sense of dominance, but the real reason is that he wants to feel you completely. That intensity is like a drug to him. Sometimes when things get too overwhelming, he switches positions and goes in from the side. But you'll have to struggle to push this wild child off of you.
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)
"How do hedgehogs sleep?" He's so focused on going in and out that he responds to your face with a faintly startled look. "On edge." A big grin escapes with a groan and the only thing you catch are two questioning eyes. He's very serious. Don't get me wrong, he's not without a sense of humor,it's just a little dulled…definitely a little. I wouldn't expect him to be playful but he'll try not to be too serious; of course he's serious, but not so much that you can't enjoy the moment. Usually the one making jokes with roughly a fifty-fifty chance of success is you, the goofy side. Even if he doesn't react the way you want to each one, the fact that he listens to you intently and remembers the jokes is something. This guy is trying, alright?! Now spread your legs a little more. *eye roll*
H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)
The embodiment of discipline and dedication. Absolutely meticulous, cleaning with such precision that it's as if it never grows at all, leaving just a tiny bit. If you ever make a small joke about him letting it grow a little longer, he'll take it seriously. This guy genuinely wants to please you.
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)
I don't think Viltrumite Mark has the slightest idea about romance. The closest thing to a relationship he's ever truly witnessed in his life, even briefly, was that of his mother and father. Though, it didn't exactly end well.
Stil I can say he's overwhelmingly close to you throughout sex. He tries to keep his touches as gentle as possible. He'll show, almost worshipfully, just how valuable you are. He'll constantly press his face against you. His gaze will linger deeply, as if he thinks you'll vanish if he lets go. You could even say he manages to make unintentional romantic touches. Praise him, encourage him and you'll get even more of it.
J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)
What's that? I don't even think he has time for such things. The duties of the Viltrumite Empire and all the conquests already keep him more than busy. Especially after you entered his life, he still struggles to make time for you. Maybe fleeting thoughts of longing will come to mind, along with the lewd images of your body, but that only motivates him to finish his tasks faster so he can get to you, safe and waiting. In short I don't think he ever masturbates. Maybe back in the throes of adolescence, perhaps.
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)
He definitely has a reproductive fetish. He'll try to fill you to the point of impossibility. When he sees his seed flowing from your hole, he'll slam it back in as if that hole were own private crime.
L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)
Only and only your bedroom. This man is obsessively disciplined. Some things you really can't change. Considering you live within the Viltrumite Empire, there's honestly no other place you could have sex. He finds these moments extremely private, and he would never risk getting caught with you.
If you insist, maybe he'll take you somewhere out of sight during a mission, or if you're watching him in the training area. Give him small, suggestive glances and say something teasing, and he'll steamroll his training partner,leaving you completely alone with him.
M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
Pleasing you. Seeing you reach pleasure fires Mark up like nothing else. On top of that, when you create challenges and compete with him, the thrill of knowing he'll be rewarded pushes him even harder.
N = NO (Something they wouldn't do, turn offs)
Although he doesn't hesitate to leave bruises and marks on your body, he would never strike your face. Even the thought of it unsettles him. He shouldn't feel this way, violence is normal for him, and while he may get rough with you during sex when he wants to, he truly won't lay even the slightest slap on your face. A playful little tap? No, that's reserved for your ass. He worships that beautiful face and would never allow a scratch.
If you could become pregnant and didn't want to, he absolutely wouldn't accept it. Unfortunately, he would force you to carry a child. He truly offers no choice in this matter, perhaps that's the toxic aspect of your relationship.
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)
It's fair to say this is almost never mentioned in your sex life. The first time you ask for it, he'll do it without refusal, though he'll find it a bit strange. Did people really enjoy having these parts treated like food? Strange. Perhaps that's why you weren't conquered by the Viltrumite Empire. But once he starts, after seeing how you tremble at his small licks and suction, and the effect it has on you, he'll treat it as if it's the most important battle in the world.
He is absolutely an incredible eater and he enjoys it immensely. While doing it, he watches every expression on your face, reading you with his eyes.
As for giving him oral, he won't even bring it up unless you offer. He doesn't want to pressure you, but if you do offer, he'll accept without hesitation. He loves how your mouth wraps around him, and even if he fights not to take more than he should, in the end he pushes you to your limits with your hair. You're strong, you're his partner, you could handle it.
P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)
Quite intense and lustful. The reason it"s lustful is that he practically worships you. This man definitely won't be fast unless he has somewhere he needs to go, he just wants to stick to you and stay.
Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)
If there's ever a situation where he takes you outside the bedroom, you'll definitely have fast sex, making sure he empties himself inside you. But aside from that, even if he does it at first, it will definitely fade from your life later, like the other Viltrumites, he no longer cares about quick sex. Every single second he spends with you, he finds incredibly valuable.
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)
You won't be taking any risks. Look this guy is like a walking shield against even the slightest chance of you drowning in water (while drinking). He doesn't even want to think about seeing you in danger. He'll eliminate anything that poses a threat to you without hesitation. He's like a rabbit that delivers deadly kicks to anyone who so much as lays a hand on his mate. If you insist, maybe you could try one or two things in bed but even then, I'm not sure you could really call it risky.
S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)
Considering he gained his powers at an early age, joined the empire with his father while still young, and was trained as a Viltrumite soldier, I’d say he’s the most resilient variant. His rounds with you will go as far as your reproductive desire allows—and as long as you’re on the verge of passing out. Still, he’ll stop when necessary, since he doesn’t want to cause you lasting harm. Ahem unlike some sinners, your hole will remain…safe ahem ahem.
T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
He doesn't understand the presence of toys. Of course, he saw them among the upper classes while wiping out many civilizations, especially among slave owners. Still he doesn't get it. Why would you want something that can't even make you pregnant?
Mark will do anything for you but he's not at all willing to share his lover's body. Like a fierce cat, he's always sulking, though this time you might notice his lip is slightly more downturned. Want to be handcuffed? One hand is enough. Want to feel completely filled and experience something different? He'll work hard for that. Want your nipples to tingle with pleasure? His hands and mouth are at your command. He'll refuse every offer, and as if his stubbornness isn't enough, he'll look at every toy in your hands as if it were complete shit.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Viltrumite Mark will take what he wants while still giving you what you want. Most likely as your relationship deepens, he'll start being playful with you. If it weren't for the slight curl of his lips, he would have looked almost serious and said, "What'ss the problem, didn't you tell me to go slower, am I not giving you what you want?" His thrusts slowed maddeningly, while his warm breath brushed against your cheek.
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
The only thing you can hear are his controlled, quiet breaths. Do things that will take his breath away;otherwise, aside from the occasional whimpers escaping his mouth by chance, you're completely engulfed in silence.
W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)
Even though there's no one around who could take you from him or even think about it, he'll keep marking you. He actually loves it. It feels so natural to him, like the pieces of earth on the surface of the world, interesting and natural.
If he notices that you feel embarrassed about it, he'll praise you for how well you carry it.
Also if possible he's willing to have kiss marks from you. Place them on his neck or jaw,it doesn't matter, he'll take every one with complete seriousness. "You have a lipstick mark on your cheek." The Viltrumite next to him, he looks with a neutral expression. "So what?"
X = X-Ray (Let's see what's going on in those pants, picture or words)
Not exaggeratedly big, not in the middle. I think he's circumcised, a decision Debbie made when he was a baby. Its thickness and veiny structure are prominent. Whether orally or through the hole, whichever way you take it, you can definitely feel its weight. It's the kind that waits to conquer lol.
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
I think it would become intense after you entered his life. Before that, he had no real desire for sex,he viewed it only as a means to find a suitable mate and reproduce.
Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He won't sleep until he's sure you're comfortably settled and unharmed. Even after he finally drifts off, his sleep remains light,he literally has a sleep system focused on wrapping you up and keeping you safe.
!!Warnings: He's a walking warning, I'm too tired and lazy to write out all the cautions. Btw I don't think it's anything too rlly bad!!
A = Aftercare (What they're like after sex)
He's never really fulfilled that kind of responsibility toward any of his partners before. He has a personal harem and since doing something like that wouldn't benefit him in any way, you can't exactly say he's developed much in that regard.
But when it comes to you,while your body is still trembling with aftershocks, his lips will brush over every bit of skin they can reach. After being with you, there are moments when he shows a kind of attention even he doesn't seem to understand, almost like a natural reflex. Still let's be honest sometimes this guy is lazy and kind of a bastard. Sometimes after sex he'll just lie there on his back in bed, at most handing you a cloth while he leisurely watches you clean yourself. Other times he won't even do that he’ll simply give your back a few small, absentminded strokes with one hand.
B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner's)
His dick ahem. I really don't think you should ever ask Mohawk Mark questions like that,he's far too sarcastic for everyone's own good.
As for you, he's definitely an ass and chest man. How should I tell it… his hands will slide from your hips upward to your chest, and then he'll do the exact opposite, tracing the same path back down again falling into that little cycle. Though if something is going to get an even stronger reaction out of him, it's probably your ass. I mean…haven't you seen the thongs those women in his harem wear?
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)
Mouth, stomach, neck, thighs, groin, anus, chest, back…He'll cream like a scumbag wherever he can. He's very messy and careless when it comes to cum. Once, when he cum in your mouth, he accidentally got bile up your nose and almost choked you.
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Trying to take the upper hand over him,he'd actually like experiencing something like that from you. He also loves it when you get a little wild. Dare to give him an order…and he'll show you the galaxies.
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)
Just how much experience do you think this crazy guy has had? More than enough far more than is good for anyone, honestly. Sometimes he might even compare you to women he's been with before, and that's probably the part that hurts you the most. That jerk would likely see it as jealousy and wouldn't immediately realize how much it actually upsets you.
Also regardless of your gender, I imagine that up until now he's only been with women. You know considering that harem of women who resemble his ex…Eve and others like her I think he’s had a few other flings as well. When it comes to his own experience, bragging about it comes naturally to him. But if you start bragging about your experiences…that's something he really doesn't want to hear. (Asshole)
F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)
He seems like a doggy and cowboy type. He just can't keep his hands off your hips. And he definitely has a bit of a control fixation. Watching you grow breathless and on the verge of tears is one of his favorite things. When you're barely managing to bounce on him, he'll intervene and make you take him even deeper. Sometimes he'll just lean back and watch your attempts to ride him, enjoying it like he's savoring life itself. And when it comes to doggy, he thinks you look like a building shaking from an earthquake. He's almost hypnotized by the way you move back and forth with every thrust.
He also likes having you sit on his face. If he had to die there,in that moment beneath you, he'd gladly do it in a way that would make every other man jealous. "Damn it put your weight on me, it's not like my brain's going to explode!" While you shyly lower yourself onto his face, he grabs your hips and tries to pull you down even harder.
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)
So goofy he could give you a headache. Be prepared for him to say things so obscene they could embarrass humanity. He's the type who sees sex as something fun and playful, though if you ever end up sleeping together after something bad happens, there's a chance he might be a bit more serious. Even then his dirty and teasing remarks probably won't stop. And he'd definitely want you to keep up with him, too.
H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)
Sometimes he'll bother dealing with it and other times he probably won't care much,he has more important things to worry about. Still if he thinks it bothers you, he might try to be a little more careful. After all he wants you to be satisfied too.
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)
A terrifying killer, a real bastard and if we ignore his experience with women, he's actually quite sincere. At least with you. Ofc he was close with other women too, they were part of his sex life but with them it felt more like a routine he'd memorized during sex. With you, though, he's genuinely honest and sincere in every move he makes. His whispered words, his wet kisses and his touches are all filled with the hope of getting some kind of response from you too. You should definitely return that kind of affection to Mark trust me, he'll find himself drowning in strange emotions. If you tell him you love him, he'll say it back. Though honestly he might blurt out how much he loves you even without prompting. In moments like that he'll treat you as if you're something sacred. Still when it comes to love, this man is pretty chaotic soo don't expect him to handle it in a particularly neat or graceful way.
J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)
Honestly I don't even think he'd do that while he has you especially when he can shamelessly have you anywhere he wants. When he does masturbate, though he'll usually touch himself right in front of you on purpose. No, he's not embarrassed about it.
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)
HES A FREAK. He's obsessed with giving and receiving praise, and this applies outside of sex too. You both prefer complimenting each other. Choking, he can't pull his hands away from your neck like your hips. His hands sits so perfectly that he keeps rambling endlessly about it. Speaking of choking, he'll put a collar on you and he'll let you do the same to him, with a big chain as well (you'll understand what I mean later or maybe you already do). You know he's a Viltrumite so he can handle all of this, and in the moments where he gives you control, you have the chance to be as merciless as you want.
If I were to touch on a part for women, although it can be taken genderneutral as well, he will definitely spank your pussy and genitals, not stopping until they're red. The rest is more classic, delaying orgasms, preventing release and so on. Oh and choking you with his cum,being a Viltrumite has the advantage of cumming a lot and he absolutely loves filling the back of your throat with it. One of the moments he panicked most during sex was because of this; you genuinely choked on his cum, he was so panicked that while putting his finger in your mouth to make you gag, he almost choked you a second time and bruised your jaw. His fingers looked like a full piece of art on your face. After apologizing at first, he decided he had the right to joke about it to himself.
L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)
Everywhere. If you have a fear of heights, it's probably because of this bastard. He'll even have sex with you in midair, you've nearly fallen a couple of times already. Once he's inside you, where you are doesn't really matter to him. He even enjoys the risk of getting caught, though he still wouldn't deliberately put you on display. If anyone's going to be looked at, they can stare at his ass instead.
M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
Your breathing. Just kidding he's not that riled up. Those moments when you've just woken up, looking so beautiful and sweet he wants to devour you…anything that could trigger him sexually. Give his ass a playful smack he'll take it as an invitation.
N = NO (Something they wouldn't do, turn offs)
Threesomes, sharing. Look this guy has definitely done things like that with his harem before, okay? But once he's with you, I believe (you can't argue against me on this matter nooo) he'd ditch that harem entirely and leave the whole group thing behind too. Because when it comes to you…he gets jealous. He wants to be the only one who gets to see that beautiful ass of yours. You're not something he's willing to share. If you ever suggested something like that, he'd probably slip into a teasing, sarcastic mood and say something like,"What, am I not enough for you, sweetheart?"
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)
Speaking about women specifically. He's a pussy eater. That's literally what he calls himself. Still he's so messy about it that you couldn't exactly call him the most perfect at it. It's almost like he's declared war on your pussy,you'd probably have to remind him he's not actually facing an enemy.
If we’re talking regardless of gender though, he'll definitely take it gladly. Still don't get too full of yourself…because while you're doing it, he expects you to tug on his hair and ramble out praises like you've lost your mind. When it comes to giving and receiving, he won't stop until you're in tears and your mouth is too tired to keep going. When you take him into your mouth, he gets incredibly sarcastic but at the same time weirdly complimentary. "Damn, you're sucking me like you'll never see me again." , "Slow down slut,it's all yours there's no line behind you."
P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)
Other than the moments when he actually wants to be rough with you, you'll almost never see him take it slow. He definitely gets into a pace like it's some kind of olympic race. The fact that you haven't been seriously hurt is honestly a miracle remember that, because when this bastard gets focused on how tight you are, he might forget that you're human…or mortal.
Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)
Could say about sixty percent of your sex life looks like this. Considering he'll keep having sex with you whenever he gets the chance, it's not really surprising. Still because he loves the moments when he stays buried inside you, if you're not in a hurry it won't even become a matter of preference for him. Still there are plenty of times when you have quick sex just to start another round.
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)
Risk and he have been inseparable since the moment they were born. He will shamelessly try everything he knows or could possibly know,with you. Full marks for taking risks. Convincing him to back down is extremely difficult; he's someone who knows how to be manipulative. He doesn't really care if it causes you pain, though of course he does make some effort not to break or dislocate anything. But with this version of Mark…well gl brah. Once, he even wanted to see how long you could have sex continuously without taking a break or attending to basic needs (toilet or water excluded) and let's just say it didn't end well for you.
S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)
It's certain that he's more than you can handle ahem. Like a spoiled child, he'll push your limits and even if your body relaxes and you lose control, he won't mind he'll adjust his position as you move on top of him and keep going. With each round, he's challenging himself,he even keeps a leaderboard. There have unfortunately been attempts of more than six rounds. Please if necessary, cry in a way that makes him genuinely feel bad and firmly remind him of your limits. Don't give him any leeway if you don't want your hips to get hurt.
T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
What a great topic to talk about…he has a collection. He owns every type of toy he could get his hands on in the universe. He'll experiment with all kinds of things on you, and if you're hesitant, he'll tease you with his words.
As long as it's nothing penetrative, he'll let you try things too. Still he'll act playfully teasing, as if he doesn't like sharing his toys. Collars and chains…if you've seen that art, you know what I mean. He'll definitely let you handle them.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He loves teasing you but hates being the one teased. Even if he doesn't snap in anger, patience isn't exactly his strong suit, once he's had his fun he won't give you any more leeway. His teasing toward you feels like a necessity of life. What do you mean you can't handle it? That just means there are things you need to fix in your life. He's stolen far more orgasms from you than you ever had a right to
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
We know. The "shut your mouth" thing hasn't been invented for him yet,he's still on the old version. If you tell him to close it when his lewd words and sounds get overwhelming, he'll get feisty horny. Still… Mark’s grunts? Totally worth hearing.
W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)
He likes running his fingers through your hair in those post-sex moments when you're tangled up together. It seems to calm him just as much as it relaxes you. He also enjoys peppering kisses in between. If you happen to kiss his chin during this, he'll close his eyes and fully surrender to enjoying the moment.
X = X-Ray (Let's see what's going on in those pants, picture or words)
Definitely big. Anything else is impossible. No, no, I refuse to accept it being averagee!! Once its out…puff your ability to walk is gone. Veiny, with a reddened tip. Maybe slightly curved upwards too?
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
He's present 24/7 when you're around. When you're not, there are moments it doesn't even cross his mind…until he misses you. Saying he has animal like urges would be an understatement. After being with you, it's not like he always wants sex but after all, his sole focus is you.
Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
After teasing you for a while and telling you to sleep, it doesn't take long. Still if he's been really rough sometimes, there's a chance he'll act gentlemanly enough to wait for you to fall asleep.
mark ... w a physically affectionate reader ... they love holding him , blowing him kisses from afar in the most dramatic way possible, holding his waist when walking or standing behind him , sitting on his lap etc .. theyre GLUED to mark i fear 🙂↕️
stuck like glue
“Don’t pull out yet…” You sniffle softly, turning your head to try and peak at him. “Hm?” Mark hums, blinking stupidly. You wriggle a bit on his lap, he hisses quietly, “I said don’t pull out yet, wanna be close still.” Mark sighs, but holds your hips to keep you still, his dick can’t handle you wriggling around.
He slumps forward, his cheek against your clothed back, the two of you had been impatient. Life can get in the way of sex, you thought with Mark in a dorm you’d be able to fuck 24/7 but alas… between his superhero shenanigans, classes, william being around… it was pretty difficult to get his cute girlfriend bent over and fully naked.
So in the midst of attempting to study it went from your sweet mewls for a hug… then a kiss… reassurance that he still sees you as the apple of his eye… his dick just sort of ended up in you… Mark can’t help but find your need to stick to him kind of hot. So hot that your shirt never even came off, and he just kind of grabbed his dick through the fly of his boxers… sue him. It’s not like your pussy minded, still slick and leaking against his balls.
“You okay? Too much?” Mark contemplates pulling out hearing you sniffle. He stops when you shake your head, “I’m okay, just wanna be close to you.”
“Baby… my dick is still inside, how much closer could we be?” Mark doesn’t mean to be crude, but he’s realized it’s best to be honest with you. “Sorry…” you mutter leaning forward on his desk, the surface is cool against your clammy skin. “No sorries, you just missed me didn’t you.” He teases only a little, his hands going from your hips to rub your stomach, it’s almost uncomfortably hot, he shudders when you tighten around him, the attention is welcomed. “I did… you’ve been really busy… thought you forgot about me..”
Mark doesn’t think he could forget about you even if he got thrown to a different planet, pussy this good gets a guy whipped fast, he’s at your beck and call. “How could I forget about someone as perfect as you?” Mark twitches inside you, fuck he’s so easy, brushing your hair over your shoulder to mouth at your nape. “Was in a fucking coma and I couldn’t forget about you.” He sighs, eyes almost rolling back as he gently adjusts you forward, taking a little peak to see your labia spread around him, the creamy mess making every slick noise audible.
“Mark— don’t joke about that.” You sigh, lulling forwards, his strong arms wrap around you. Maybe you did it on purpose, just to feel his strong biceps tense around you.
“‘s true though, shit—” Mark shudders, his hand snakes down past your navel, slowing his thrusts to gather slick and drag it up, parting your folds to rub your clit. There is no way he’s gonna come before you…again. You hiccup, between the first orgasm and the duel sensation you arent far off. “Still sensitive?”
“Mmph yeah.”
“Me too.” Mark gasps, his mouth kissing whatever is in reach, your nape, behind your ears, your shoulders. “I can’t be apart from you for so long again.” He groans, maybe he’s just as needy as you are, or maybe you’ve just rubbed off on him, in a metaphorical way of course… “Me neither, I can’t stand it.” You hiccup, reaching behind and squeezing his tense thigh, the wet little noise you make makes Mark shiver, you pussy spasms around him as it clenches with second long intervals, the jerky little shake of your hips has him practically hearing colors, “Fuck— inside?” He hiccups like an idiot, like he hadn’t already come in you earlier, you whine at his stupidity, he’s spilling inside you before you can confirm, he’s too fucking sensitive, going tense, biting into your shoulder so he shuts the fuck up and doesn’t moan like a amateur porn star as any brains he has left explodes in favor of overstimulating himself with your pussy.
You shiver as he catches his breath, “I think I need a minute… your pussy fried my brain.”
“Huh?”
“Just… Just shut up and I’ll shower with you and give you a massage.”
content.ᐟ 18+, sub!mark, dryhumping, p in v, begging, praise, yapper!mark, virgin!mark
you aren't exactly sure how MARK GRAYSON ended up beneath you, wriggling and whimpering from the sheer, heavy ache of his need to be buried inside you.
you were just supposed to be studying in his room, it wasn't your fault he’d stretched his arms over his head, exposing that dark trail of hair leading down his stomach, and it certainly wasn't your fault he kept stammering every time you batted your eyelashes at him. his flustered laughter only made your gut pool with a familiar need. the need to see him 100x more nervous for you ofc! :p
he was practically begging you to pin him down and kiss him silly, and so, you did. the confused, muffled “hmph!” he made against your lips when you first caught him off guard only spurred you on. he didn't protest when you climbed into his lap, straddling him and grinding your hips against his. he didn't ask questions when you tugged the hair at the nape of his neck, kissing him with bruising force. he didn't care when the textbooks next to him fell to the ground with a thud when you kicked them away. he couldn't bare to potentially ruin the moment he'd been waiting for his whole life, for the many years he's loved you. there was no way he would go back to jerking off to the thought of you, this was way better!
once you decided you had enough of just dry humping, you move to unzip his jeans. he was blabbering out breathless "thank you's," as you unzipped him. his hands trembling as he tried his best to follow along with your confident movements, lifting his hips to help you tug his jeans and boxers down.
when his cock was finally freed, you couldn't help but stare. it sprung against his abs. he was so hard it looked painful, and it definitely was. mark was so turned he swears he could cum from a gust of wind! his skin flushed a deep, feverish pink, the tip leaking precum at an alarming rate. you wanted to memorize every vein, every inch of him, but the heat between your own legs was becoming too insistent to ignore.
after tossing your shorts aside, you didn't even bother with your panties, simply sliding them to the side to expose your heat to him. you took ahold of him, making his breath hitch as you ran his sensitive tip through your slick folds. he felt like he was in heaven, it felt so good and he had the prettiest thing ever sitting right on top of him!
"you okay?" you whispered, glancing up from his member to his ridiculously red face. "you're not gonna cum when i put it in, right?" you teased, tilting your head to make sure he wouldn't spill inside you immediately, it was just such a mark grayson thing to do. he shook his head hurriedly, trying to regain some semblance of composure by straightening his posture. "n- no!" he assured you, letting out a nervous, shaky laugh. "i'm not- i'm not like- a virgin or anything," he stammered. uh huh. "right..." you nodded skeptically, but decided to take your chances. you lined him up with your entrance, watching his adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard. he was gawking at the sight of you, his whole body tense in anticipation.
when you finally sank down, the sensation was overwhelming. his eyes rolled back into his head and a moan far too loud for a quiet bedroom escaped him. your hand flew to his mouth to stifle it. "mark!" you warned, your voice trembling despite your attempt to stay in control. debbie is right downstairs, is he crazy?! his eyes shot open, wide and startled, as his apology came out as a muffled, ridiculous sound against your palm. you almost giggled, until he reached up to cup your breast, his touch making your breath hitch. he promised to be quieter, and you finally let your hand drop, granting him speech again.
"you're... you're so pretty," he breathed, struggling to tear his gaze away from your body so he wouldn't lose his grip too soon. you smile down at him warmly, his compliments and willingness to please you only make you wetter. you took a moment to adjust to his length before you began to move, your hips starting a slow, tentative rhythm to test his reaction. "f-fuuuuuck" he throws his head back, his jaw going slack. his heart beats a frantic, uneven rhythm against your chest, and he actually begins to pant, his breath coming in shallow, desperate hitches as he feels your pussy flutter and clench around him.
"god, mark," his name feels heavy and sweet on your tongue. "it's so... s'good," you manage to choke out, nodding your head as the pleasure rolls over you in waves, the band in your gut tightening. "soooo fucking good." at the praise, his cock twitches violently inside you. the sensation of his tip rhythmically kissing your cervix as you bounce atop him is overwhelmingly, almost painfully, satisfying. the wet, rhythmic slap of your hips meeting and separating echoes in the quiet room, a sound that makes your skin flush with heat. you silently pray that Debbie doesn't happen to wander past his bedroom door.
Mark looks like he’s overstimulated. his eyes are screwed shut tight, his jaw slack as he fights to stay grounded. "mark," you coo, your voice a breathless, airy thing. "hmm?" he whimpers in response, his eyebrows twitching upward to show he heard you, though he's too far gone to actually open his eyes just yet. "mark..." you murmur once again, lifting your hand from his shoulder to thread your fingers through his damp, inky black hair. The strands are slightly slick with sweat, clinging to his forehead. "look at me..." you whisper, your thumb tracing the line of his jaw to tilt his head up toward yours. reluctantly, his eyes flutter open, heavy lidded and glazed with pure adoration. his gaze sends a shiver through your whole body. the moment he takes in your flushed face, he bucks his hips up involuntarily, a sudden, deep thrust that makes you let out a high pitched squeak. "m'sorry," he rasps, shaking his head as if to clear the fog from his brain. "you jus'... you jus' feel so good," he says, his voice cracking, sounding almost like a desperate complaint. but you know better; there's no way he could complain right now. "i know, baby... i know..." you assure him, leaning down to press a lingering, tender kiss to his forehead, trying your best to ground him, to calm him down.
you continue to move. "can you..." he starts, his voice cracking as he fumbles for the words. he's struggling to get the request out, his chest heaving as if he's embarrassed. "can you... tell me i'm good? that- that i'm doing it right?" he finally manages to choke out, looking up at you with wide, glossy eyes, tears already shimmering at the brim, threatening to spill over. you can't help the soft, lopsided smile that tugs at your lips. the sight of him looking so pathetic for you is a boost to your ego.
"you are doing good, mark," you murmur, your voice a soothing balm to his nerves. he lets out a broken whimper, the sound vibrating against your skin as he lets his head fall heavily against your bare chest. "so... so good for me..." you coo, planting a tender, lingering kiss on the crown of his head. "always so good."
at the reassurance, he starts to ramble, chasing more of your validation. "yeah? i... i wanna be good," he nods fervently, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt. you nod along with him. he starts to plant open mouthed kisses to the mounds of your tits, trying even more to please you. "i wanna be good for you, cus- cus- " he breaks off into a jagged moan as you increase the pace, your hips bouncing urgently. "you're my good boy," you whisper against his ear, the words a sultry, velvet command. he lets out a full, high pitched whine at the praise, his entire body shuddering. "yeah!" he gasps, his hips bucking upward with a desperate strength to meet your every thrust. "i'm a good boy," he mumbles to himself, a frantic, breathless affirmation. You feel yourself nearing the edge, the pleasure becoming dizzying.
and, of course, through it all, Mark is still running his mouth. he's yapping a breathless stream of praises, trying to make you happy. "i love you!" "you're you're so fucking pretty," "fuck- how're you so tight?!"
As much as you adore his compliments, you realize you desperately need him to be quiet for just one moment so you can actually enjoy your orgasm. "mark," you whine, your voice strained and high. "just be quiet for a second... okay, baby?" You look down at him, meeting his wide, earnest eyes. "can you do that for me?" He nods desperately, his chest heaving. "yeah, yeah, of course i ca-" he starts, his voice rising as he prepares to launch into another compliment, but you quickly press a finger against his lips to hush him.
suddenly, he hits that exact spot sooo deep inside you, without even meaning to. "fuck!" you cry out, completely abandoning any shred of modesty or fear of his mom walking in. he whips his head up at your sudden cry, unaware of what he did to make you feel so good.
"i'm gonna cu-" before you can even finish the thought, Mark’s fingers find you, his thumb circling your clit aimlessly. the sensation is overstimulating, a squeal emoting from you as you're sent spiraling over the edge. You come around his cock in heavy, pulsing waves, your walls fluttering against him.
he gets off on you feeling good, so, naturally, seeing you cum with such intensity is enough for his balls to draw up. with a low, guttural groan, he lifts you off his dick like you weigh nothing. after all, he is invincible. his own orgasm hits him the moment he pulls out. thank god. though, you think that getting knocked up by mark grayson wouldn't be so bad. he cries out your name as he spills hot sticky globs of his release all over your lower belly.
after he wipes the cum off of your stomach with his shirt (like a gentleman), you lean all of your weight into him, exhausted. he wraps his arms around you, rubbing circles into your back mindlessly. and without surprise, mark is the first to break the silence. "was that..." he starts, his voice a needy whisper. "was that good?" you let out a long sigh, almost rolling your eyes, a small smile playing on your face. he just gave you one of the best orgasms of your life, and he's still asking if he did okay, still asking you to reassure him he is the one that made you feel good.
"yes, mark," you breathe, "that was good."
a/n: the capitalization is all over the place in this one sorry about that... 😭 from this request!
Can you write something for sinister Mark x m reader?
Some prey x predator type shit because I know for a fact that he gets off on fear, so it could be some kind of hunting game and when (there is no if.) he catches reader he’s the one to decide how he wants to ravish them? I just NEED hardcore dirt and grime smut with dacryphilia & omorashi involved, you can go about this however you want!!
Lots of loveeeee <3 - 🩰
𝐌𝐑. 𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅’𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐘
sinister mark x m!reader
𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐒 ! ── you, an omega bunny makes the mistake of catching mark’s interest and you learn that some predators never stop chasing what they’ve claimed as theirs. and mark refuses to let his favorite prey go. | sinister is a wolf hybrid, m!reader is a netherland dwarf hybrid.
🎧 - playlist i made for spotify users to listen to while reading!
꒰ warnings. invasive, stalker-ish behavior. manhandling + implied big size difference. porn with plot. fear kink. omorashi. romanticized NON-CON; having sex in mud, missionary (folded + side swept), deep throat, breeding/being impregnated, dumbification. ꒱
It didn’t take a genius to understand how the world worked.
Predators and prey.
The distinction has existed long before language, before civilizations, and even before fire itself. Even now, centuries after society had supposedly moved beyond such primitive instincts, with laws and technology that stretched across continents, nobody could truly escape them as they were buried beneath skin and bone.
It was woven into the very foundation of life and no amount of modernization could completely erase millions of years of evolution.
Everyone knew it.
Especially prey.
The only difference was that now they wore suits, paid taxes, and pretended otherwise.
Felines lounged in expensive penthouses while deer hurried through crowded streets. Foxes grinned with too many teeth for comfort. Bears occupied positions of power. Hawks stalked from above. Rats thrived in hidden corners of cities or their tiny homes while sheep gathered in comfortable communities where they felt safe among their own kind.
Most hybrids learned to coexist.
Most.
Because instincts however, were another matter entirely.
No matter how modern society became, nobody could completely suppress what nature had designed them to be.
A bunny would always recognize a fox or wolf.
A mouse would always fear a snake.
And predators?
They never stopped noticing prey. As if that wasn’t enough, society was divided by a second hierarchy layered over the first.
Alphas, betas, and omegas.
Betas made up the majority of the population and generally lived ordinary lives. Alphas possessed stronger instincts and stronger pheromones—they naturally commanded attention whenever they were around.
Omegas were rarer.
Far rarer.
Sensitive to scents and instinctual cues. Often viewed as vulnerable regardless of whether they actually were.
For predator omegas, life could be difficult.
For prey omegas, life could be terrifying.
And unfortunately for you, fate decided to make you both.
A bunny. An omega.
A combination that attracted attention all the time.
Most days, you managed.
You kept your small ears hidden beneath hoods. You avoided dangerous neighborhoods. You ignored the lingering stares from strangers who caught your scent in crowded spaces.
Tonight wasn’t the kind of night you could manage.
The city streets felt wrong.
Too empty and too silent.
Your bunny ears twitch beneath the hood of your sweater as you hurried along the road.
The sensation started as a simple feeling—being watched. Your heartbeat quickened and you glanced behind you.
Nothing.
Just empty sidewalks, a few flickering streetlights, no footsteps. Not even movement of trash tumbling in the light breeze. Yet the feeling refused to disappear.
The problem was that you didn’t know what was causing this fear. Not yet.
Hidden among the shadows of an alley, glowing eyes followed your every move. Tall ears tilted forward as he listened to the frantic rhythm of your heartbeat from several blocks away.
Patient, amused, even starving.
And there you were—so small compared to him and such fragile prey.
Sinister remained crouched behind a dumpster, one hand resting on the ground to stabilize himself and a grin spread across his face.
Most prey disappointed him.
You were different. You could feel him even from over there!
And yet, the hunt hadn’t even begun and you were already afraid without knowing you were actively playing with him.
—
Something moved behind you.
A figure emerged from the mouth of a narrow alley so casually that, under different circumstances, you might have mistaken him for someone simply heading home after work or leaving a friend's place.
Dark jeans and a charcoal jacket left partially unzipped, hands tucked into his pockets.
Your steps faltered. There was nothing that should have been alarming, yet everything in your body erupted into panic the moment his eyes landed on you.
You couldn’t smell him before, now you could.
He’s not only a wolf, but an alpha.
Your bunny ears twitched violently beneath your hood.
The stranger’s head tilted slightly and a smile pulled at his lips.
It wasn’t friendly at all. It was more like he’d finally found something he’s been looking to play with. Something fascinating and so sweet smelling.
“Well,” he said softly.
“Ah!”
The sound that left you was humiliating.
A tiny squeak.
The kind of sound a frightened prey animal made, and the kind of sound that made predators excited to hear.
Your eyes widened.
HIs smile widened too.
You spun around and bolted down the street with every ounce of speed your little legs could manage. The sudden movement sent your hood flying backward, and two soft bunny ears immediately sprang free.
The sensation barely registered. You were too busy trying not to die. Behind you, however—
His eyes widened. “…A bunny?” His eyes followed the movement of your ears as they bounced with every frantic step.
Of all the prey animals he could have stumbled across.. a bunny. An omega bunny!
The universe clearly liked him today.
“…No way.” His grin slowly spread. Then spread further—until it bordered on unsettling.
That explained so much.
And those ears—small and rounded. Not the long elegant ears of larger rabbit breeds.
It was cute.
Ridiculously cute.
He actually laughed. A low sound that echoed into the lonely, night air. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
༶•┈┈୨୧┈┈•༶
Meanwhile, you were rapidly discovering that being terrified made it difficult to think.
A bunny wasn’t built for fighting. You were built for one thing.
Running.
And right now, you were putting that evolutionary advantage to use.
The city blurred around you. Streetlights. Storefronts. Passing cars. Everything became a streak of color.
Your bunny ears flattened against your head as you ran.
Don’t look back. Don’t look back.
Don’t—
Curiosity won.
You glanced over your shoulder.
The wolf was grinning and he wasn’t even trying.
He walked after you at first, hands still in his pockets. Completely relaxed. As if he already knew how this would end.
Why did he look so confident?
Why did he look so happy?
The answer arrived a moment later.
Sinister looked directly in your large eyes, then he started running. And suddenly the distance between you started disappearing.
Far too fast. The kind of speed nature had gifted wolves specifically so rabbits would never feel completely safe.
“N- No, no, no, no—”
You darted around a corner. Then another and another, desperately trying to lose him.
The city quickly became a maze. People became obstacles. You nearly crashed into a pair of deer hybrids waiting at a crosswalk. One startled look at your face was enough for them to step aside.
You kept running.
A fox hybrid exiting a convenience store blinked as you flew past. Then immediately moved out of the way after spotting the massive wolf several yards behind you.
Nobody intervened.
Nobody was stupid enough to get involved.
Not when an alpha predator looked that focused and that interested.
Sinister followed at an easy pace. He wasn’t even breathing hard, but you were fast, he’d give you that. Faster than most prey. Quick on your feet. Exactly what you’d expect from a Netherland Dwarf. But panic made prey predictable.
He could practically see your instincts making decisions for you. And his grin never faded.
He should have ended the chase already. Could have, very easily. Yet every time he got close enough to catch you, he slowed down. Just enough to allow hope to return. Allowing you to think maybe you’d escape.
Then he’d close the distance again to watch your panic spike all over. Watching those little bunny ears pin back tighter.
It was fascinating.
—
You glanced back again and your foot caught on an uneven section of pavement.
The world tilted for a moment and you stumbled.
Another squeaky sound escaped your throat. For one horrible second you thought you were going down. Somehow you caught yourself and kept running.
But the damage was done.
Mark’s eyes widened slightly, then narrowed. Something possessive flashed across his expression.
Ahead, your vision blurred. Your lungs burned. And you knew you couldn’t keep this up forever. Every breath came in short, frantic gasps as you sprinted through unfamiliar streets, desperately searching for somewhere—anywhere—to hide.
The sound of approaching footsteps never fully disappeared.
Your ears flattened tighter against your head as you darted around another corner. Then your eyes widened.
A children's park.
The small fenced playground sat mostly abandoned beneath the glow of nearby streetlights. Colorful plastic play structures cast long shadows across the ground. A slide. Monkey bars. A tiny plastic tunnel. A playhouse.
Your racing mind immediately latched onto one thought.
Everything was small, made for children. Made for someone much smaller than a fully grown wolf hybrid. Hope surged through your chest and without hesitation, you vaulted the low fence and sprinted across the playground.
The tiny plastic playhouse was too exposed. The slide offered nowhere to hide. The tunnel was perfect.
Well, perfect was a generous description because it was cramped, even for you. But you were a Netherland Dwarf hybrid. Small enough that people constantly underestimated just how tiny you actually were and could be.
Dropping to your knees, you quickly squeezed inside. The tunnel barely accommodated you. Plastic pressed against your shoulders, your bunny ears folded awkwardly against your head, but it worked. You crawled deeper inside until you reached the middle. Then you curled up as tightly as possible and waited.
Silence.
Your heart hammered against your ribs.
Thump, thump, thump.
Surely he’d lose track of you, right?
There was no way someone his size could fit in here. No way he'd bother checking the children's playground. No way—
But footsteps were approaching.
You squeaked quietly as your blood ran cold.
The footsteps suddenly stopped. Silence returned.
You squeezed your eyes shut and pleaded internally.
“That was clever.” His voice sounded amused. “I’ll give you points for creativity, bunny.”
The casual nickname made your stomach churn unpleasantly. You pressed both hands over your mouth. Maybe if you stayed quiet—
A shadow fell across the tunnel entrance.
There was no way he could see you. The tunnel curved and the center section was hidden! He shouldn’t know you were here. Then again—
“Oh, come on.” Mark sounded almost offended. “You didn’t think that would actually work, did you?”
A small, terrified noise escaped your throat before you could stop it. Immediately regretting it, you clamped both hands tighter over your mouth.
Outside, Mark laughed. “There you are.”
The wolf crouched near the entrance. Not trying to reach inside. Not trying to drag you out. Just looking. Like he was enjoying this far too much.
Which, judging by the grin on his face, he absolutely was.
The scent of frightened omega practically filled the air around the playground.
Normally he would’ve ended the chase by now.
Normally the novelty would’ve worn off.
But this?
A tiny bunny rabbit hiding in playground equipment because the big bad wolf was chasing him.
The situation was ridiculous and somehow that made it even better.
Inside the tunnel, you pulled your knees tighter against your chest. If you stayed here long enough, he’d get bored.
Predators got bored, right?
One minute. Two. Three.
Neither of you moved.
Then Mark spoke again. “You know,” he said casually, “I was planning on going easy on you.”
Your ears twitched.
“You started running.. and then I found out you’re a rabbit.”
A pause.
“That really didn’t help your case.”
Your face burned. That wasn’t fair! None of this was fair. You hadn’t done anything. You just happened to exist.
Unfortunately, judging by the wolf sitting outside your hiding place with that patient smile on his face, that seemed to be more than enough.
He wasn’t leaving anytime soon.
༶•┈┈୨୧┈┈•༶
Twenty minutes passed.
At some point, your legs had stopped shaking so violently. Your breathing had steadied. And the crushing panic that had been suffocating you since the chase began had settled into something else.
Cautious hope.
Because the wolf had gone quiet.
Very quiet.
The silence stretched on for so long that you started wondering if he’d finally left.
Your ears twitched. Listening... and nothing.
Had he gotten bored? Maybe he’d realized this wasn’t worth his time. Slowly, carefully, you shifted inside the tunnel. The plastic creaked softly beneath you. A tiny bit more confidence returned.
Enough to make a terrible decision.
You began crawling toward the entrance with your heart pounding against your ribs. The tunnel opening grew closer. A sliver of moonlight spilled inside.
You stopped right before reaching it.
Listened.. nothing again.
Maybe he was really gone.
Your ears poked out first. Then the top of your head. Then your eyes. You cautiously peeked outside.
The playground was empty.
No wolf.
No—
A flash of movement.
Something dropped from above.
Your startled squeak barely had time to leave your throat before a hand shot toward you.
“Got you—” Mark's voice sounded far more excited than it had any right to.
You immediately jerked backward.
The grab missed. Mostly.
“Eeek!” You scrambled desperately deeper into the tunnel but the movement wasn’t fast enough—Mark’s hand closed on something. The back of your jacket, the fabric near the nape.
For a brief second, both of you froze.
You stared at the hand clutching your jacket.
Mark stared at the handful of fabric he’d managed to catch. Then his grin slowly widened. “Oh, that’s lucky.”
Your eyes widened in horror and you immediately grabbed the front of the tunnel with both hands. “No!”
He shifted until he was sitting comfortably on top of the tunnel.
Apparently, during those twenty minutes, he’d climbed up there without making a sound.
“Welp, now I've got you.” He sounded entirely too pleased with himself.
“Let go!” You pulled harder but his grip didn’t budge.
“No.”
“Why not?!”
“Because I caught you.”
What kind of answer was that?
Meanwhile, Mark looked delighted. His tail swayed lazily behind him. The moment you’d peeked your head out, his self-control had vanished.
He’d seen those little bunny ears. Seen those big, cautious eyes. Seen the hopeful expression that said maybe the scary wolf had finally left.
And before he could stop himself, he’d tried to grab you.
Unfortunately, his excitement had made him sloppy. Had you reacted a fraction slower, he would’ve had your wrist. Instead he’d ended up with a fistful of jacket.
Still.
A win was a win.
Inside the tunnel, you gave another determined yank. Nothing. The wolf wasn’t even straining. Your entire body moved yet his hand didn’t even tremble.
Which was horribly unfair and completely expected from an alpha wolf.
“Come on, bunny.”
The nickname made your ears twitch irritably again.
“I don’t want to.”
“You’ve made that very clear.”
A pause.
“You know,” he mused, “most prey don’t hide in playground equipment.”
“Most prey aren’t being chased by a giant wolf!”
“Hm, fair.”
And while you’d spent the last several minutes treating the tunnel like an anchor point, Mark seemed to have finally decided he’d indulged you long enough.
The tension on your jacket increased. Slowly and steadily.
“Wait!" The fabric pulled taut as you tightened your grip on the tunnel. “Wait, wait—”
Your hands slipped.
Mark gave one firm pull.
You were dragged several inches toward the entrance.
“Ah! Stop it! Stop!"
He continued pulling anyways, steadily reeling you in as though your resistance barely registered.
You kicked your feet against the plastic. The tunnel echoed with scraping sounds. Your fingers clawed. Nothing worked.
Moonlight spilled over your face.
And then—
You were out.
A startled squeak escaped you as the wolf effortlessly lifted you clear of the tunnel. The ground vanished beneath your feet.
Your entire body instinctively curled inward. Knees drawing up. Bunny ears flattening. Arms tucked close to your chest. As though making yourself smaller would somehow help.
You hung several feet above the ground, suspended entirely by the back of your jacket.
Mark stared.
And stared.
And stared.
The sight was almost enough to make him forget what he’d been doing.
The bunny had literally curled up midair.
Like some instinctive defense mechanism.
For a moment, the wolf simply admired his catch.
His voice sounded almost dreamy, “You know I’m stronger than you, right?”
You glared. Or at least attempted to.
The effect was somewhat diminished by the fact that you were currently dangling like a misplaced plush toy. “I noticed.”
He chuckled as he adjusted his grip slightly, just enough to keep you comfortable. Which was an entirely different problem.
“You really thought the tunnel would save you.”
“It almost did.”
“No. It did not.”
“It stopped you!”
“Barely. But, you know what the worst part is?”
“I don’t want to know.”
“I’m going to tell you anyways." You grunted and Sinister ignored it. “When I first saw you, I knew you were prey. Then I knew you were an omega. And when your hood fell off?" His grin widened.
“Oh no.”
You immediately knew where this was going.
“Oh yes. The ears came out.”
You buried your face in your hands.
“Your wittle bunny ears.” He mocked, looking delighted.
“Stop.”
“A tiny bunny.”
“Please.. stop.”
Sinister listened. For a moment at least—content to simply stand there with one hand in his pocket, the other holding the back of your jacket. Eventually, he tilted his head, dark eyes meeting yours.
“So.”
“So?” you repeated cautiously.
“So what exactly was your plan after the tunnel?”
“…I was hoping you’d leave.”
The silence that followed lasted two seconds before Mark burst out laughing. “Oh, yeah?”
“Mhm,” you hesitated.
His laugh grew louder, echoing across the empty playground.
“Oh my—” he exhaled between laughs, shoulders shaking. “You’re dumber than I thought!”
Your stomach dropped. "What?"
His hand tightened slightly on your jacket—not enough to hurt, just enough to remind you exactly how easily he could. You flinched anyway.
“Oh, don't do that,” he said, voice dripping with amusement as he started to shake you. “I'm starting to like you.”
You squeaked instinctively, feet kicking uselessly at open air. Sinister clicked his tongue like he was scolding you. "Careful, pipsqueak."
"YOU did that!"
"I made a small adjustment," he corrected.
“It’s embarrassing,” he continued lightly, tilting his head again, “just thinking about the fact that you’re still alive. And you still have attitude."
“I didn’t do anything,” you said, voice strained.
“Oh?” The wolf leaned in slightly, his eyes sharpening, interest flickering back in like a switch had been flipped. “That’s the problem."
His smile softened. “You didn’t do anything,” he repeated, slower this time. “And yet you ran the moment you saw me. So, I followed."
"...That's stalking."
"Hunting."
"It's still stalking!"
“It's instinct.” He gave a small, amused shrug, like he didn't care about legal distinctions. His grip shifted again, and this time he lifted you a fraction higher, forcing you to look up at him fully. “How long did you think you could survive like that?” he asked quietly. “Really.”
You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.
Sinister watched the silence stretch, then exhaled like he was mildly disappointed. “Prey like you always think distance equals safety,” he said, almost conversational. “Hiding spots. Corners. Little tunnels.”
His eyes flicked briefly toward the playground structure behind you.
“Temporary things.”
Then back to you.
“But you’re still here,” he added, voice dipping slightly. “So I guess I should give you a little credit.”
That should have sounded like praise. It didn’t. Not with the way he said it. Your ears twitched despite yourself.
“There it is, bunny,” he murmured.
“..What?”
He leaned back slightly, still holding you suspended, watching you like you were doing something fascinating without realizing it. “You’re not just scared. You’re responsive.. like, very responsive.”
Your face heated instantly. “I’m—”
His grip suddenly shifted, just like his energy. Your stomach dropped the instant his arm moved.
“Wait!”
The protest barely left your mouth before the world tilted.
He lifted you fully. No effort—just one smooth motion as if you weighed nothing at all. Like's he's finally decided something.
He was already turning away from the playground and started walking.
The playground lights faded behind you as he crossed the fence without slowing down, stepping into the darker stretch of trees bordering the park.
Your breathing spiked immediately.
“P- Please, stop—”
Branches shifted overhead. The city noise dulled. Everything grew quieter the deeper he went, until all you could hear was your own heartbeat and the steady rhythm of his steps.
You twisted slightly in his grip. “Where are you taking me?!”
“I don’t want anyone watching.”
You stopped struggling for half a second. “…W-what?”
He kept walking. Branches brushed past his shoulders as he moved deeper into the trees. Moonlight broke through in thin stripes, cutting across his face—dark eyes steady, focused ahead like you were already a done decision.
“I said,” he continued, “I don’t want anyone seeing us out there.”
Us? That didn't sit right with you.
“I didn’t do anything!” you blurted again, voice cracking slightly. “I just— I was just running!”
Sinister let out a soft sound that wasn’t quite a laugh. “It’s not about what you did,” he said. He adjusted his grip slightly, holding you more securely against his side as he walked—like you were something that belonged there now.
“It’s about what you are,” he added.
The forest seemed darker after that. The trees thicker. The path less visible. You tried to look back toward the park, but it was already gone behind the trunks. The deeper you went into the trees, the worse your instincts got.
Mark finally stopped. Not in a clearing that looked safe. Not anywhere that made sense. Just a patch of uneven ground between twisted roots and low hanging branches where the forest floor dipped slightly into soft, wet earth.
You barely had time to process it before you were dropped.
“Ugh!”
Your body hit the ground with a dull, messy impact. Cold. Wet. Mud soaked into your clothes immediately, clinging to fabric and skin alike. You scrambled instinctively, trying to push yourself up—
But a shadow fell over you.
Mark dropped down with you. Like gravity meant nothing to him. He landed directly above you, one knee planted beside your hip, pinning the space around you without fully crushing you—but making escape feel instantly impossible.
Your breath hitched. “W-wait—!”
The wolf didn’t respond. Instead, he leaned in.
His nose moved slightly as he inhaled slowly. His attention wasn’t on your face. It was on your scent.
“No—don’t—!”
A hand caught your wrist before you could even finish moving. Mark hummed softly, almost thoughtfully, as if confirming something only he could understand.
Then his free hand moved... curiously?
He ran his fingers along your sleeve first, then your shoulder, testing, feeling, mapping you out like you were something unfamiliar he wanted to understand fully.
Your ears snapped upright in panic.
And that’s when his attention sharpened.
“Oh…”
It was quiet. Almost pleased.
His hand shifted immediately to your head.
You flinched hard. “Stop—!”
His fingers closed around one of your bunny ears. Not pulling harshly. Just holding it. Tilting it slightly as if inspecting how it worked.
Sinister tilted his head.
“So sensitive,” he murmured.
His hand moved again—briefly brushing your tail, then your hips, then your back. You shook under him, mud sticking to your clothes, humiliation and fear mixing into something you couldn’t untangle.
Your hands pushed against the ground, trying to twist free from beneath him. Your legs kicked weakly, slipping against wet earth and roots. “Let me go!”
"Stop it," Mark growled quietly, before he pulled your pants down, the fabric tearing with a satisfying, almost violent sound.
He didn't bother with finesse—he immediately positioned his large cock at the entrance of your tight, trembling hole and pushed.
“A- aaahhh!!” Your eyes flew wide, brimming with sudden, fat tears that spilled down your cheeks. A broken, high pitched squeak escaped you as your body was forced to stretch around the sheer girth of Mark’s dick.
As he began to pound into you with ferocity, the sheer mounting anxiety became too much for your small body.
“Stop—wait, p-please!!”
The sound of your panicked cried and whines were like fuel to the fire in Mark’s veins.
—
He ignored the mud coating his thighs and the grit grinding between your bodies—all he could feel was the tight, agonizingly delicious friction of your ass.
“T-too big!!”
With a grunt, Mark suddenly hooked his large hands under your knees, hauling your legs upward, forcing them all the way back to your shoulders. The position was completely exposing the pink, stretching hole to the moonlight and his predatory gaze.
“Too big?" Mark rasped, his face a mask of sweat and dirt as he leaned down, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear. "You're gonna take all of it. You're gonna take every fucking inch."
He began to hammer into you with a more aggressive, almost heavy rhythm, his hips slamming against your pelvis with a wet, slapping sound that echoed through the trees.
The overstimulation was reaching a fever pitch. The sheer size of his cock expanding your ass to the limit.
“It is! I- It doesn’t feel right! I don’t—”
“Liar. You love how it feels.” He interrupted as he increased his pace. His thrusts became shorter but rougher; driving himself into the very depths of your tiny body, aiming for that sweet spot. “..You love being filled up like this."
“M- Mmhh! No!”
The cold mud against your skin and the scorching heat of Mark’s cock was too much. Your small noises were becoming frantic, your small body twitching uncontrollably under the onslaught.
The sheer pressure in your lower abdomen, the overwhelming sensation of being stretched to the point of bursting, reached a breaking point.
Suddenly, a warm sensation flooded the space between you both. Your bladder finally gave way under the crushing weight of the stimulation.
A warm stream of urine flooded out from your twitching cock, mixing with the dirt and the sweat of your joined bodies.
The sensation was humiliating, but Mark didn't pull away. If anything, the piss only seemed to drive his primal instincts higher—feeling the build up in his own loins reaching crescendo.
“Look at you," Mark hissed, his eyes burning with a possessive light. "So messy. What a dirty little thing.”
Even then, he let out a low chuckle as he felt your body start to go limp and tremble violently under the weight of your release.
And now, he decided he wasn't just going to cum; he was going to breed you.
He pumped his dick in one last, devastatingly deep thrust, his hips locking against yours as his knot began to swell rapidly inside the overstimulated hole.
He groaned. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, teeth sinking into the soft skin, flooding your insides with a hot, thick release.
“W- Wait—! Don’t cum in me! Get it out!” You squealed.
Sinister didn’t listen nor did he let you rest. Instead, with a grunt of exertion, he shifted his weight, manhandling you with a brute strength that felt inescapable.
He forced your legs to the side, clamping them tightly together with one dirt stained hand to stifle any attempt at kicking or escape.
The other hand moved to your hip, spreading you once more, exposing the ravaged, gaping hole.
The sight was devastating.
The pink pucker was swollen, leaking a messy mixture of thick, white cum and the remnants of mud. It looked utterly wrecked, perfectly prepared for the nasty predator currently looming over you.
You could only lie there, trembling violently, your breath coming in ragged, broken whimpers as Mark began to drive into you again.
“No—no more! I- I’m so full!”
The plea was pathetic, a broken, sobbing sound that should have triggered pity, but to Sinister, it was nothing more than a confirmation of his power.
Seeing prey like you so completely undone—physically and emotionally—sent a wave of dark satisfaction through his chest.
"Full?" He mocked, his voice a rasp.
He leaned down, his weight crushing against your heaving chest, forcing the air out of you in a sharp gasp.
"You haven't seen anything yet. And you’re going to take every last drop."
He didn't care about the tears or the way your eyes were glazed over. With a quiet growl, he began to drive back into your ass. Each thrust was aimed at bottoming out against your womb.
“A- Aah! I don’t wanna be bred! Take it out!”
The words were a frantic, desperate prayer, but to him, they sounded like a challenge.
The mention of pregnancy, the ultimate act of claiming a potential mate sent a jolt of pure excitement through his spine. The idea of you carrying his scent, his mark, his actual offspring, made the wolf in his gut snarl with a possessive glee.
"That’s exactly what a little bunny like you is for." Mark hissed.
He wanted to hammer his seed so deep into your core that it became a part of you. Every time his hips slammed against yours, he felt the your insides twitching, trying to accommodate the unrelenting intrusion.
Your wails and squeals were becoming incoherent, lost in the rhythmic, wet slapping of bodies and the heavy sounds of his breathing.
༶•┈┈୨୧┈┈•༶
The forest was no longer a place of peace. The air was thick with the suffocating, musky scent of sweat, forest loam, and the sweet aroma of bunny pheromones.
A loud, sickeningly wet squelch echoed through the trees. The sound of his massive cock plunging into a hole that was already overflowing with the thick, creamy evidence of his previous bust.
"Look at how much you can take," he grunted, his voice a jagged, strained wreck. He leaned down, his face inches from your tear streaked, flushed visage. "Listen to that... you're practically drowning in it. You're nothing but a little breeding vessel for me, aren't you?"
You could only let out broken sobs, head tossing wildly from side to side in the wet ground.
"Aaaah! H—hah...! No, noo!"
And Mark could feel the familiar, agonizing swell of his knot beginning to expand once more, an aching pressure that forced him to bury himself as deep as physically possible.
He let out a long, guttural groan, his fingers digging hard into your hips that he was certain would leave permanent marks.
SPLAT.
With a final, devastating lunge, his knot locking tight against the entrance of your desolate hole. The sensation of being irrevocably sealed inside a bunny was intoxicating to him.
“E—eek!! Oh no!”
"There..." he gasped, body convulsing as he erupted a hot torrent of hot, sticky seed into you. "There you go. Take it all... take it, you little slut.”
He could feel the heat of his cum overflowing your tiny, overstretched womb, painting the very depths of your guts white.
But, he didn't just want to satisfy his lust. He wanted to saturate you. As the throbbing of his knot finally began to recede again, Mark felt a dark sense of completion.
He was still panting, his chest heaving with the exertion of the “hunt,” but the predatory madness in his eyes had softened into a dazed, possessive glow.
He didn't pull away gently—he gripped your hips one last time and surged backward with a sudden, violent force.
POP!
You let out a weak gasp.
The sound of his massive cock sliding out was loud in the quiet forest, a final, lewd exclamation of his conquest.
As the seal broke, a messy mixture of cum, urine, and mud spilled out of your devastated entrance, coating your thighs in a pale, sticky slurry.
Your body, absolutely spent and utterly broken, finally went limp..
You collapsed back into the cold muck, your limbs splayed out uselessly, small frame twitching with the aftershocks of the overstimulation. You looked like a discarded doll, eyes glazed and rolling back, breath coming in shallow, hitching gasps.
And unfortunately for you, Mark wasn't quite done.
He leaned down over you. Instead of a kiss, his teeth found the skin of your shoulder, sinking in with a sharp nip. He bit hard enough to draw a bead of crimson blood, the metallic tang of it mixing with the salty scent of sweat.
He moved to the other side, nipping at the curve of your neck, leaving a trail of stinging, red marks that would serve as a silent warning to anyone who dared look too closely.
He wanted the bruises to stay, he wanted the marks to remind you exactly who you belonged to.
“E—eep..” You squeaked softly.
"Yeah... keep making those sounds," Mark muttered, his voice still rough and low.
He reached out a large, dirt stained hand, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw, smearing a bit of the mud across the your cheek.
The tiny, involuntary shudder that wracked you was followed by a familiar, warm sensation. In your state of sheer, lingering terror and sensory exhaustion, your little bunny bladder betrayed you once more, a thin, frantic stream of urine soaking into your skin.
Instead of being repulsed, Sinister felt a fresh surge of arousal. The scent of your fear and the sharp, acrid smell of piss mixing with the heavy musk of their sex was like a drug.
"Again?" A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Well, an extra round won't hurt me."
“Wait— …w-what?”
He didn't give you a moment to breathe. He simply lunged forward, the weight of his entire body was a suffocating pressure that forced the air from your lungs in a pathetic, wheezing "Uuuf.."
There was no room for you to move, no room to even breathe, let alone escape.
Mark reached down and gripped your soft bunny ears. He didn't hold them gently—he wound the velvet appendages around his fingers and tugged, forcing your head back at a punishing angle.
You squeaked.
He needed those eyes focused. He needed you to see the predator that was currently dismantling him.
"Look at me," he commanded, his voice a low growl. He grabbed your chin, forcing those glazed, rolled back eyes to snap into focus on his own. "Don't you dare look away."
Without a second of hesitation, Mark moved. He didn't go for the heat of your lower half this time. Instead, he drove his thick, pulsing cock straight into your mouth.
The sudden movement forced a muffled, choked scream from your throat, eyes widening in sheer shock as your jaw was stretched to the breaking point.
He didn't care about comfort.
He began to fuck your face, his hips slamming against your chin and lips. The sound was a wet, messy cacophony of gagging, heavy breathing, and squelching.
Every time he thrust deep, he felt your small hands clawing uselessly at his muscular thighs, trying to find leverage.
"Take every fucking inch of me," Mark hissed, his eyes watching you struggle to accommodate him. "Show me how well you can take it.."
Your eyes were brimming with fresh tears, your face flushed and tear streaked as you fought to breathe around the invading length.
You were practically drowning.
The taste of mud, musk, and the sharp tang of your own urine made your head spin in a dizzying haze of sensory overload.
"That's it... swallow it all..." Mark groaned. He was relentless, his large hands tightening their grip on your ears, using them to steer your head back and forth, ensuring he was hitting the very back of your throat.
He wanted to feel the exact moment your body buckled.
He wanted to feel the heat of your throat constricting around him even more, wanted to feel your very soul surrender to his cock.
And you could barely make a sound—only muffled whimpers and the panic-stricken sounds of your own choking.
"Good boy... just like that.”
Your vision began to swim, the dark trees above blurring into a chaotic whirl of shadows. Perhaps death, somehow, was consuming you.
But Mark was reaching his limit, white hot sparks going through his nervous system. The familiar, violent tension. The urge to claim one last time before the exhaustion finally claimed him too.
"I'm... coming..."
He didn't pull out. Instead, he gripped the bunny's ears even tighter, ensuring he was as deep as physically possible.
With a final, bone deep lunge into your jaw, his hips locked against your face with a heavy thud.
He let out a long, ragged moan, his body tensing into a rigid arc—knot pulsing violently, and the sheer volume of the release was staggering.
You could feel the viscous liquid filling your mouth, sliding down your throat in an overwhelming rush.
You could only make desperate gagging and asphyxiating sounds. Your trembling, wet eyes rolled back once more as you struggled to swallow the amount of the hot deluge.
"All of it..."
Mark’s eyes burned with a dark, triumphant light. He didn't loosen his grip on the ears, holding you in that vulnerable, stretched position to ensure not a single drop was wasted.
—
He eventually pulled away with a slow, wet suction sound, his cock sliding out and leaving a glistening trail of white seed hanging from the your lips.
You let out a ragged wheeze.
Mark sat back on his haunches, his chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath.
He looked down at the wreckage he had made.
You lay completely sprawled in the stinking mire, small, filth smeared body still twitching with involuntary, post orgasmic tremors.
Your face was a mask of pure, beautiful devastation—eyes wide and vacant, staring up at the canopy in a blank, trance like state, mouth slightly agape and still leaking a bit of the creamy seed you had been forced to swallow.
"Fuuuck. You're actually really good," Mark muttered, a predatory, lopsided smirk tugging at his lips.
He reached down, his thumb tracing the edge of your swollen, reddened lip, smearing a bit of the leftover cum across your cheek. "Got me thinking if I should just keep you for myself. Hide you away where no one else can find you."
The thought wasn't a joke. There was a terrifying sincerity in his eyes, a possessive hunger that hadn't quite been sated by the physical act.
He wanted to wrap his arms around this small, ruined thing and never let the world see you again.
You didn't even blink.
You just lay there, a broken, beautiful mess of a bunny, your mind clearly lost somewhere in the hazy, overwhelming void.
Heyy! Since you mentioned straps... Could you write a thingy where the reader pegs main Mark? Tyy,,, ( 〃•▽•〃)–●🩷
“baby, we don’t have to do this you know.” your words were soft, nothing more. mark panted as his legs shook from earlier, how you’d made him cum by jerking him off while fingering him. he’d never felt so much pleasure before, not even when he would fuck you. mark grayson was introduced to being a pillow princess, and he was enjoying every second of you attention.
mark didn’t think he’d be in the arms of an angel, but he also didn’t think he’d be into these types of things. before he got his powers, he never had any interest of being dominate or being in control of a relationship. he saw how his parents acted together, as it was very clear his mother was the one who wore pants in their relationship. mark grew comfortable quickly with sexual intimacy, allowing you to be in control, to the point where you began asking if he was comfortable. sex was something normal between you both, a way to connect each other by being inside each others bodies. mark was used to letting you ride him, how he’d whine and leave bruises on your hips in order to guide you. yet you had an entirely different idea when it came to intimacy, and mark was willing to let you do anything to him.
“oh, oh my fucking god.” the words flew out of marks mouth like a prayer, his cheeks mushed into the fluffed pillows as you sinked into him from behind. his whines were muffled, embarrassed for you to hear him so vulnerable and vulgar, the curses leaving him. you went slow, allowing mark to adjust to the size he’d picked out personally, but he didn’t realize how large 8 inches truly was until it was inside of him. the length was the issue, watching mark struggle to take all of you. the width wasn’t too bad in his opinion, not to thick but just the right amount that he can feel every rubber vein pressed against his stomach. mark could feel the stress of being invincible, being there for others, saving countless lives without a thank you leave his body as he leaned against your strap. he smiled and looked behind him, giving you the signal to continue on with your thrusts and to ruin him.
the sound of skin slapping together could be heard miles away by any hero, yet mark didn’t seem to care in the moment. all he wanted was for you to dig deeper and deeper inside his tummy, to push down and feel your cock inside of him. the thought alone could make mark come in seconds, but he tried so hard not to be a one pump champ. he wanted to last for you, yet you didn’t make that easy for him. your fast pace caused mark to see stars, it was adorable how his expressions would twist. he was absolutely breathtaking underneath you, how he allowed himself to relax and let you take over.
…
“f-fuuuck! make me your fleshlight!”
a/n: sorry this took so long i’ve been a lil burnt out and was trying to test the waters w this.. i haven’t done this type of kink yet !
annaxmalina
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