GUYS I’M SO SORRY THAT I HAVENT POSTED FOR 2 MONTHS STRAIGHT. Life got me yall and was too busy to continue writing the fanfic 😓 but as a apology i’ll show you the wip of mark x fem reader!
Mark was always fascinated by superheroes as long as he can remember. Collecting Seance dog issues, watching the news about superheroes, or just pretending to be a superhero in his backyard. He did genuinely want to be a superhero. Save people, be admired by people, protect his world that he loves dearly. But to his disappointment. He was just an ordinary human. He already knew that fact but it hurt nonetheless.
But now? That was years ago. He got over it and was living a normal ordinary life. Not that he minded, it was mundane. Simple. Peaceful. Something that he was fond of.
Until one day, he was walking around the city. Trying to enjoy his afternoon till he saw a car going at him. It was too quick, he didn’t have time to react. He thought he was going to die. All he can do is brace for impact, clutching his backpack as if it will somehow protect him. He waited for a good minute. He wondered why it didn't hurt at all. He slowly opened his eyes and immediately saw-
you.
Floating in the sky, holding a whole ass car with one hand. Looking down at him for a few seconds before you placed the car on the ground. It took him a minute to process what just happened. You saved him. He could’ve died today and you saved him. He was still alive because of you.
As you were getting ready to leave, Mark called you out. “Wait! Before you go. Please, let me repay you. After what you did. It wouldn’t be fair if I didn't do something as a thank you.” He pleaded, his voice soft as if a car didn’t almost kill him today.
You seemed confused, as if the concept of “repayment” for a good deed was not something you knew. You thought for a moment. “Yes, that sounds fun.” You replied, your tone flat and robotic. It caught Mark off guard but he brushed it off.
“I can give you my phone number-“ Mark unzips his backpack to get a piece of paper and a pen.
“I don’t have a phone number.”
Oh… okay…
“How about an email?" He asked you, slightly tilting his head.
“What’s an email?”
He blinked at you a few times, innocent confusion shown across his face. The way you acted, the way you talked, not to mention the white uniform you were wearing. It could only come down to one thing…
“You’re not from this world, are you?” He guessed.
“No.”
That explains pretty much everything.
“Mark. Mark Grayson.” He introduced himself, holding his hand up before pulling back down after he noticed you didn’t quite understand what a handshake is. ‘What a way to make things more awkward. She’s not from here, Stupid.” Mark cursed himself.
Again… i’m sorry for not continuing this fanfic… i’ll will soon!
tags ♥︎ slightly mean mark, a bit perverted mark, p in v sex, fingering, he's a tease, first time, rough sex, he's a bit gentle with you, three year age gap, mark is older than you, a bit of voyeurism? MDNI 18+, 9k word count
synopsis ♥︎ you are william clockbell's little sister and mark didn't really notice you besides just being his best friend's little sister, until well he just walked in on something he wasn't supposed to see, now he finally noticed you.
The house had settled into that specific late-night quiet where even the refrigerator’s hum was so faint, you could hardly hear it but it didn’t pass you, you’d been listening to it for an hour, maybe two, lying on top of your covers in an old sleep shirt that you put on with no mind, your phone was face down on the nightstand and the blue glow from your charging cable made a thin line across the ceiling.
William’s room was at the other end of the hall, and you’d heard his door shut around eleven p.m, the muffled bass of a video game soundtrack cutting out shortly after, you were restless, your mind clearly awake and refusing to rest, maybe it was due to the fact that Mark was staying over and that’s precisely why you couldn’t sleep, because a certain boy with onyx slick back hair, eyes with the color of calmest brown, and fairly unattractive dimples were on your mind, fairly so.
Mark was William’s best friend, and you were William’s little sister, to him anyways… that’s all you were, and it left you deeply unsatisfied, not that you could ever admit that, you? Crushing on your brother’s best friend of all people, and he’s quite older than you by three years, plus your brother would freak out! Because you were his little sister, and his best friend was “off limits” so that you heard William say one time.
Maybe it’s the awareness of him being in the same house, fifteen steps away, one room just down the hall from yours kept your pulse in your ears because you’d crushed on Mark Grayson since the summer William brought him home when you were in the seventh grade, you remembered that one time vividly in your head, the scene played out, you were thirteen and he was fifteen, you heard someone come in making you turn slightly, and there he was, he wore a random comic tee along with random pants and he didn’t see you because he was too busy taking his shoes off near the entrance door looking like the dorky kid he was and then when William hollered out and ushered him upstairs for a video gaming session or whatever boys do, you were on the couch perched with a book where your head was buried, you looked at him awkwardly before shyly stupidly giving him a wave, and finally he looked up at you.
He froze at first, but then he grinned that awful boyish smile, showing his braces, he had a glint in his eyes as he shyly waved too before making his way upstairs, back then Mark was just another gawky kid with a crooked smile, someone who liked his nerdy seance dog comics and built a whole collection, would ramble random facts on the national geographic documentaries containing weird science facts about animals, or would sometimes stutter out his sentences, that’s the type of guy he was literally.
You didn’t really know what changed but something did over the past year, because his shoulders filled out, you remembered briefly you were over at the Grayson’s house last summer because William dragged you along, why? You forgot the reason, you went inside with your brother and Mark was near the kitchen counter chugging water from a glass cup, he was wearing a tank top and his biceps were out flexed, along with his forearm veins, and his back muscles god… he didn’t notice but you were just salivating at him because recently he looked like he became built like a greek god and then his jaw sharpened, since when did he get so hot?
He was twenty, three years older than you, and every time he looked at you it was usually with the same flat, amused expression he’d give a neighbor’s cat that kept wandering onto his porch.
You were William’s little sister, that was your name to him, one time he’d ruffle your hair on his way to the kitchen and he’d always steal the last soda from the fridge and say, “Tell your brother I owe him,” without even glancing at your face, it was mean, but not cruel but dismissive in, a way that made you feel like a smudge on a window he was looking through.
And still. And still…
You shifted onto your side, your lips pursed as you brows furrowed in thought, the sheets rustling too loud, and stared at the sliver of light beneath your door, creeping in through your room, and your mind began to go haywire, currently drifting elsewhere.
You imagined Mark curled up in the sleeping bag on William’s floor right now in your brother’s room, one arm behind his head, breathing slow, probably wearing a fitted old seance dog t-shirt that fit him too well, you could even see his abs peak because of how muscular he was, his black messy hair framing his face, and the way the cotton stretched over his chest, your skin felt too warm and your thighs kept pressing together without a conscious decision.
You tried thinking about something else, anything but him but it failed because that boy still lingered in your mind rent-free and you still blinked at the ceiling above you that stared back tauntingly with nothing else to say back to you.
You tried counting the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling, the ones you remember you’d stuck up in sixth grade once because it just looked cool to put on for whatever reason, but then your mind kept drifting to that moment a few weeks ago, the shape of Mark’s big hands when he’d passed you the popcorn bowl during movie night with William who was passed out on the couch and you were sandwiched between him and Mark, you all were watching some old 2000’s horror movie, you imagined his knuckles, veins, long fingers. You’d imagined them everywhere, maybe everywhere on you, if his fingers brushed your skin, tracing your chest bone to maybe your neck, to your cheek, maybe to your thumb?
Then your greediness, and that immense feeling of wanting him to be all over you won and took over common sense, you slid your hand down your stomach slowly, slow, almost casual, like you could trick your body into believing this was just an absentminded gesture like it didn’t matter, the hem of the sleep shirt rode up, and the air kissed the skin, and a shiver ran sideways across your ribs, you felt so exposed right now in your room, naked even if your shorts were on.
Your breathing shifted into something shallower, mouth parting against the soft pillowcase to be quiet because the house was pretty silent and everyone was probably asleep and because you weren’t going to do this, you really weren’t.
Nope you were.
You were already doing it.
Your fingers traced the elastic of your cotton underwear, not pushing under, just along the edge. The contact made your stomach tighten, well it’s fine nobody was going to know, can you really blame yourself? A girl like you had urges too, you needed to take care of them, no one is gonna know… right? Yeah no one will know, and with the reassurance in mind, you let yourself loose, and finally caved in.
Yeah you're fine, Mark was probably asleep. William would be dead to the world until noon if you let him, It was just you and the dark and the permission you finally gave yourself after months of tucking this want, this feeling into smaller and smaller corners, because maybe you just weren’t allowed to have this, you didn’t want to make William’s friendship with Mark awkward, and… he probably didn’t like you like that anyway, so… but you can’t help it, this want, this feeling that felt like molten hot electricity crawling in your spine, when your heart beats so fast like a leopard whenever you see him, when your cheeks would pink a little when you knew Mark was over or every small interaction you would have with him if you could, and when he looked at you, his warm chocolate eyes gazing into yours and subtly glancing near your jaw, and to your shoulders before lifting back up again, you would notice the wrinkle in his eyes when his lips would smile.
Your middle finger dipped beneath the fabric, the sound you made was involuntary, a little whine against the pillows, because you were already wet, embarrassingly so, and the glide of your fingertip through that wet folds of your pussy sent a jolt up your spine that made your hips twitch.
You pressed your face into the pillow to muffle the next sound, a soft, rising whimper, and circled your clit with the kind of deliberate pressure you’d learned your body liked.
Circles, then side-to-side, then a light rubbing rhythm that made your thighs fall wide open on the bed, your lips parted, the ceiling stars watched, your eyes fluttering shut as you kept making keen soft noises muffled in the bed, letting all of this want go, and not keeping it in any longer.
Behind your lids, you imagined Mark was just standing there, watching you touching yourself and maybe his lips would part? His brows furrow in confusion as he watches you pleasure yourself to the thought of him, William’s best friend-what if he just watched and didn’t leave? Oh the watching made your stomach drop the way a staircase does when you miss the last step, falling and falling endlessly.
You imagined him pulling the door closed behind him, walking to the edge of your bed, pulling you into him, maybe hoisting you in his lap? his hands would just touch you everywhere he could reach especially inside, as his chocolate swirls focused on you and only you, he’d be everywhere and all of the skin on you he would’ve touched would be his already, you’d smell him everywhere, maybe he’d lean forward, his nose drifting near your cheek as he whispered dirty words in your ear, like…
Look at you.
Naughty girl, getting off to me like this?
Do you think about me all night?
Touching you, giving you what you can’t give yourself?
Your eyelashes weakly fluttered, your fingers worked faster at the flesh, two of them now sliding down to press at your entrance without entering, teasing the wetness forward, spreading it.
Your heel dug into the mattress as you whined more and more, so desperately trying to chase the high you needed so badly, the nightlight under the door flickered once, and you didn’t think much of it, probably something else, catching the bulb-and in the back of your mind you registered the faint sound of the hallway settling. Old house. Always creaking, so it didn’t worry you, and you just really needed to come now, you imagined his lips near your neck, his fingers working your pussy good, maybe he’d add one finger, perhaps two., three, He would pummel his fingers slowly gliding out, and back in, he would fill you up in ways you can’t, your back would be against his broad chests, his muscular arms feeling your waist groping you, pinning you to the bed-
The name slipped out before you could catch it.
“Mark…please…” Quiet, barely a whimper, but in the silence of your room it landed like a thud, but then speaking of a thud.
You heard something move, you swore you did… and your eyes snapped open, and you quickly lifted your head up, your eyes blown and you looked at the last crease between the door to the distance of the wall because…the door was ajar, not wide enough to be obvious, but the gap had widened by three, maybe four inches from where it had been when you’d last looked.
The sliver of hallway light now cut a longer rectangle across your floor, and at the edge of that rectangle, interrupting it, was the dark shape of someone’s foot?
Every muscle in your body locked, your hand froze between your legs, the wet heat still pulsing around your fingers, your heart was pounding fast, the foot didn’t move then it did. The door swung inward with a slow, deliberate creak that drank all the air from the room, and Mark Grayson slowly stepped inside.
He was wearing sweatpants, nothing else, he was bare chested… he wasn’t wearing a shirt like you thought he would in your mind earlier fantasizing about him, the hallway light painted one side of his torso in pale gold, tracing the slope of his shoulder, the hard shelf of his chest, the ridges of his abdomen that vanished into the dark waistband.
His hair was mussed, one lock falling across his forehead, and his expression was not the blank amusement you’d catalogued for years into your memory. His jaw was set. His eyes were dark, focused… and tracked down your body, then tracing back to where your hand was still underneath your panties.
You couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, and you just stared at his bare chest dumbfoundedly, because your hand was still in your underwear, and you’d never been more aware of the exact position of your body in physical space, because from how it looked, your legs were apart, and your lips parted around an interrupted breath, and you got caught.
The word caught expanded inside your skull until it was the only thing there, “M-ark!” you squeaked shyly, and in shock and your brain worked overtime to finally decided to stutter a response out.
Mark was still silent and closed the door, not all the way because he left it cracked exactly as it had been before, the gap precise, and the click of the latch not catching was the loudest sound you’d ever heard, it was closed slightly to give some privacy but a bit open for the gap to be there, where someone could peak in if they wanted to.
“Um…” Your lips parted open, trying to form some excuse or maybe tell him to get out of your room? Maybe say it’s not what it looks like? Where you can at least keep some of your dignity intact, why is he still standing here? Then before you could even muster out a sound.
“Don’t stop on my account.”
His voice was different, lower, the teasing edge he used with William was gone, replaced by something denser, something that settled in the air and made your throat ache. He leaned back against the doorframe, arms folding across his chest, and the muscle in his bicep twitched when he shifted his weight, looking you up and down.
“I-” You dumbly spoke again, but he cut you off fast, not giving you a chance to respond.
“You were saying my name,” he simply said. Not a question. A fact presented with the same casual certainty he’d use to announce the weather. His eyes didn’t leave your face, but it trailed to your eyes and then to your cheek, “I was… walking back from the bathroom and I heard it, kind of thought I imagined it at first.”
Your hand finally withdrew from your underwear on instinct, slick fingers gripping the sheet, and the loss of contact was almost painful. Your clit throbbed in protest, as you scrambled upwards, your hands now buried in the sheets as if to anchor you.
“Mark, I-”
“Shh.” He didn’t move, didn’t unfold his arms, but his command landed like a physical pressure on your mouth, yet sounding soothing. “‘S okay, keep going for me. I want to see.” it sounded so intimate like it’s something he told, just between you and him, only words to you, and it sounded a bit wrong because did he just ask you to keep touching yourself? and he’s watching now, you both knew what this could look like, it was a bit inappropriate.
The words didn’t make sense at first because you heard them, processed them, rejected them, processed them again, your face burned so hot you thought the heat might radiate off you in visible waves.
But the way he was looking at you finally looking at you, not through you, not around you like you were something actually worth looking at, it short-circuited the part of your brain that would have said no, stop, this is insane.
You stilled for a moment, your knees still clamped together out of instinct, his eyes intensely boring into yours and then slowly, for some reason, your legs parted again, as you laid back down keeping your gaze on him and you heard his breath hitched.
Your hand moved before you told it to, back down, under the elastic, fingers finding the wet heat again without preamble. The relief of contact made you quietly gasp, a sharp little intake that broke in the middle, and Mark’s nostrils flared.
He didn’t smile, but something shifted in his posture, loosening around the shoulders, and he tilted his head to watch your hand move beneath the fabric.
“Like that,” he murmured softly. “Just like that.”
The humiliation and the thrill tangled so completely you couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began because this was insane you were touching yourself while your brother’s best friend watched, the door open a bit wide enough that anyone including your brother walking to the bathroom or wherever maybe checking in on you would hear the slick sound of your fingers, see the silhouette of Mark, the boy who would always come over for dinners at the clockbell house, he a sweet boy with good manners was now standing in your doorway, watching you pleasure yourself, he should’ve known better, be responsible, walk away, but he doesn’t and he knows he should, because what if someone walked in right now like your brother? Or god, even your parents? Well at least they were away on some vacation to Hawaii, but what would your brother say and how would he react?
The danger of it made your hips lift, chasing your own touch with a desperation that felt foreign and yours all at once.
Your rhythm faltered, too frantic, too self-conscious, and Mark noticed, of course he noticed, it’s okay he’ll help you, teach you, perhaps you didn’t really know what to do, maybe you were inexperienced, he bit his lip at the thought of being the one to guide you, only him, something possessive coiled in his chest.
“You’re rushing, baby.” He pushed off the doorframe and crossed the room in three strides that didn’t make sound, bare feet on carpet, now he was standing at the edge of your bed looking down at you with a proximity that made your lungs seize.
He smelled like fabric softener and faint clean laundry detergent, and under that something warm and comforting.
“Slow down, you were doing better before you knew I was there.”
“I’m trying…” you breathed out, and the confession came out cracked, a voice you didn’t recognize. “I-can’t…its…” you shyly mumbled nervously, him being here, just seeing you personally like this it felt too much, but it also felt so daunting, having him notice you like this, having his attention on you and only you.
It felt so intoxicating, he was intoxicating.
“It’s fine, it’s just you and me.” He knelt, his knees hit the carpet beside your bed and now his face was level with your hip, his eyes on the shape of your hand beneath the cotton. “Don’t think, just feel. Show me baby, keep touching that pretty pussy ‘f me.” the crude word that left out of his lips, immediately made you even wetter if possible, it sounded so dirty, and you felt, slick heat flooding between your thighs.
Yeah it sounded so dirty and you wanted it. You wanted him to keep saying it.
Your eyes squeezed shut, shame and arousal crawled through you, and also fought against each other at the same time and arousal won because his voice was honey and gravel and it was saying things you’d scripted in your fantasies a hundred times.
You circled your clit again, slower, the way you did when you were alone and had time pretending you were when he wasn’t there, and the pleasure built in gradual waves. A moan slipped out high, thin, soft and you bit it back immediately, your free hand flying to your mouth.
Mark made a sound. Low in his chest, almost a hum. “Don’t muffle it sweet girl, let me hear those sounds of yours.” His hand moved to swat yours, covering your lips away gently, firmly gripping your fingers and leaving it at your side.
He glanced at the cracked door, then back at you, and his meaning clicked into place with a gravity that made your stomach flip, and you were so lost in touching yourself you almost forgot the urgency, William, sleeping at the end of the hall. If you were loud, if the bed creaked too much, if Mark’s presence in your room was discovered…
Your fingers stilled. “Mark…my brother-”
“Is asleep.” Mark’s hand lifted, and for the first time he touched you, just his palm on your outer thigh, above the knee, a weight dry and steady. “And I’m right here and you were the one moaning my name with your fingers inside your cunt ten minutes ago, so don’t pretend you want me to leave.” he smirked, and if he counted the minutes, how long was he standing there? With that implication that maybe he actually did watch you touch yourself for awhile, made your pussy throb again at his sinful words.
Oh and the bluntness of it-cunt, a word that literally got spoken out of that sweet boy with dimples, never heard spoken aloud made your inner muscles clench around nothing, you shook your head, a tiny motion, and his hand squeezed your thigh once before releasing.
“That’s right, that’s my good girl.” He cooed hushedly and heat flushed your cheeks, more if that was possible because getting praised by him felt so good, and you never knew how it felt from him before, it hit your bloodstream like a shot of something distilled.
“Now move your hand, let me.” He didn’t wait for permission. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your underwear and you lifted your hips automatically, a reflex, and then the cotton was sliding down your legs, catching on one ankle before he tugged it free and dropped it somewhere on the floor. The air hit your wetness and the contrast of temperature made you flinch. Mark’s gaze dropped between your legs and stayed there.
“Look at you baby,” he said softly and so proudly, “You’re so soaked.”
The blunt observation made your face flame even more, but he wasn’t mocking because he sounded fascinated, and maybe affected like you were, he stood up from the carpet, and his bodyweight dipped on the bed joining you, then his broad hand settled on your inner thigh and nudged it wider, opening you to the dim light and to his view, and then his thumb was brushing through the slick folds.
A whimper leaked out before you could stop it yourself, high-pitched. Soft.
“There it is,” he murmured. “You know, I heard weird noises from your room and I thought maybe I should… y’know be a good friend to William, check on his little sister, make sure she’s okay. ” he trailed off huskily as he kept working your pussy open, his big calloused fingers felt so different from your fingers, and it just felt so much better like he reach more than you could, you blinked slightly out of it as he coaxed more moans out of you.
“But,” he continued, as his fingers rubbed the nub slightly faster, causing you to squirm under his touch, a little not that he minded, “Then I find his little sister just touching herself, and god I shouldn’t have watched, because you’re his little sister but-” he bit his lip as his gaze honed in on how your expression looked more flushed by the minute and desperate, and your eyes were lost in a haze, glossy as your lips parted more for more high pitched soft moans, not too loud but still so quiet for him, you were being so good, just letting him touch you like this, letting him have you like this.
He continued, his adam’s apple swallowing heavily, “But then you moaned my name and god-you sounded so fucking pretty, y’know that? You’re such a pretty girl, tell me, did anyone touch you like this?” you quickly shook your head, his fingers rubbed even more faster through your slick heat, the pleasure so hot and white, the wet sounds of your pussy filled the room, and you couldn’t completely answer, you just tilted your head back as you moaned helplessly, feeling like your orgasm was getting closer.
His thumb found your clit and pressed, not circling, just a steady pressure that made your vision sparkle at the edges. Your hips bucked again and his other hand came down on your hipbone, pinning you to the mattress with an effortless strength that made your mind go briefly, blissfully blank.
“You’re movin’ too much, stay still.” The command cut through the fog, and you obeyed because the alternative was him stopping, and you would have done anything to keep him from stopping, because it just feels so good. “Also you’re being too loud, If William wakes up we have to stop and you don’t want that do you?”
You shook your head shakily, your eyes getting a little teary at the slight tone he was using with you, because it sounded gentle and soft, but there was a bit of an edge.
“Answer me, c’mon let me hear that pretty voice.”
“Yes,” you gasped. “I don’t want it to stop…please don’t stop.”
“Mm, good.” He pulled his hand away and you nearly sobbed at the loss and the orgasm that almost happened disappeared quickly. “Mark I was gonna…” You mumbled before he just hushed you, “Come? Yeah I know, just wait.” You frowned, but then he was shifting more making the bed dip, positioning himself between your spread legs. The heat of his body you felt it, and you could see the outline of him through his sweatpants now, the heavy shape of his erection pressed against the gray fabric, and the size of it made your mouth dry.
You’d known, theoretically, that maybe he was big, how? you heard him and william compare dick sizes for fun one time, you didn’t mean to eavesdrop and you didn’t see it of course, the door was closed but you walked past near William’s room, then you heard your brother’s voice- ‘Damn grayson well endowed huh?’ Then you heard a chuckle, mistakenly Mark’s, as he was trying to downplay it but seeing it now, hard and straining and just inches from where you were open and waiting, rewired something in your brain.
“You’ve thought about this, huh?” Mark crooned, settling his weight on his forearms on either side of your shoulders. His face was close now, close enough that you could see the flecks of lighter brown in his irises, the faint scar on his chin that you wondered where he got it from, his eyes flicked to yours, his hot breath kissing your cheek “Thought about me fucking you while your brother sleeps two doors down, didnt you?”
Your chest heaved, and your jaw nervously went slack, he was so close to you, and he was on top of you.
“Tell me.”
His tone firm and steady hooked and pulled you in, “I… think about it all the time… when you’re over and when you’re not. I can’t-I can’t stop thinking about it, about you.” You babbled, looking at him, something flashed across his face. Satisfaction, maybe, or hunger, or both, but something deeper too, then his mouth was on your throat, not kissing so much as pressing, an open-mouthed heat that traveled down to your collarbone while one hand slid between your bodies.
You felt two fingers pushed inside you without warning, and the stretch drew a choked cry from your lips, “Mark…” you cried out, your eyes darting up to his like it could hold you together, the sensation felt different when he was just touching your clit, but now his thick fingers were inside, and you felt like you were being filled.
“That’s it,” he said against your skin. “Take it, god you’re so tight around my fingers, how long has it been baby girl, how long did you go without touchin’ yourself?”
You couldn’t answer because his fingers were thick, curling inside your gummy walls, finding a spot that made your back arch off the mattress. The heel of his palm ground against your clit with every thrust of his hand, a dual stimulation that built pressure behind your eyes and warmth pooling low in your belly.
“Never…” you managed, the word fractured. “Never, you’re the first… no one’s ever touched me… please Mark, please…” you mewled desperately, you kept panting and moaning uncontrollably a little louder than before, you swallowed before he murmured for you to keep on talking, keep using that pretty voice of yours to tell him.
Mark's fingers plunged deeper, curling just right to stroke that sensitive spot inside you with each thrust. Your walls clenched around the intrusion, slick and hot, dripping down his knuckles as he worked you more open, and in a daze you kept speaking, your voice drifting to a mumble.
“Uh huh… no one’s touched me before.” The confession fell out of you, unguarded, and you watched his expression shift from hunger to something more complex, something with edges you couldn’t name. “No one… just you.” your head felt so light and heady, you swore you heard a faint groan, yours hips bucked into his hand, and he fingerfucked you faster, his thumb found your clit and rubbed tight circles while two fingers pumped faster, the wet sounds filling the room. Your moans grew louder, broken and needy, legs shaking as pleasure built fast and sharp, and then you felt it you came immediately, the wet gush of juices coating his hands as you whimpered.
Your hips needily rolled into his hand, as you looked up at him with half lidded eyes and he added a third finger and the stretch burned a little for half a second before dissolving into more pleasure so deep it felt like falling, your head lolled against the pillows, as you were panting.
“Look at that pussy swallowing my fingers, does it feel good baby?” He whispered, near your ear, you nodded frantically, his hand cupped your jaw tilting to his lips and he kissed you for the first time. Not gentle. His tongue pushed past your lips, tasting you, claiming the space behind your teeth, and the kiss was messy and hot and everything you’d imagined when you’d watched his lips touch his glass cup, and the thought about what his mouth would feel like.
His thumb found the nub again and pressed in tight circles that matched the rhythm of his fingers inside your gummy walls, the dual sensation fueled a brightening wire in your lower belly, and you could feel it coming again, the intense orgasm coiling not like a wave but like a spring being wound too tight. Your breath came in short, soft pants that you tried desperately to keep quiet, each exhale a little whine that you swallowed against his tongue, he pulled his lips away with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting you to him.
“She’s close huh,” he murmured, he licked his lips as his eyes focused on your puffy cunt just swallowing his fingers whole. “Let go, come for me, you got it.”
His words so low curled around you like a warm husk, your orgasm broke not in a crash but in a series of concentric ripples that expanded outward from where his hand was buried inside you, each pulse stronger than the last, your pussy clenched around his fingers, hard, rhythmic contractions, then he shoved his tongue deeper into your mouth again as you came, he groaned looking at you come completely undone, a low sound that vibrated against your mouth. Your thighs clamped around his wrist and your back lifted off the bed and the sound you made was a high, keening thing that you muffled into his lips.
He worked you through it, pumping in his fingers slowly but not stopping, drawing out every aftershock until you were trembling and oversensitive and making small, wounded noises into his skin. When he finally withdrew, his hand glistened in the dim light, and he lifted it to his mouth, licking his fingers clean while maintaining eye contact, and god that did something to you.
“Still with me?” He whispered, you barely nodded, you felt so spent already but he already started moving and he wasn’t done, your lips parted to say something more but all it did was just let out strings of wanton moans as you felt him nip at your skin.
He moved, leaning down and dragged his tongue along the column of your neck. Wet kisses followed, trailing lower until His mouth was on your breast before you could form words, pulling the sleep shirt higher until it bunched at your collarbone, he sealed his lips around your nipple and sucked hard in his mouth.
A soft cry of his name left your lips, your head lolling against the pillows, as your fingers made its way tugging his black hair strands.
His tongue circled your nipple with the focused attention of someone who had nowhere else to be, he suckled before his lips also met the other bud, twirling it gently, the sensation was electric, somehow connected directly to your clit, and you felt yourself getting wetter, impossibly, the slickness spreading to your inner thighs and soaking more into the sheets, he pulled off with a wet pop before leaning back on his haunches, and just looking at you.
“Ready for the big thing baby?” he said, and the corner of his mouth lifted in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “You ready for me?” your eyes widened at the realization, and you felt warm anticipation fluttering in your belly, you didn’t get a chance to answer. He shifted, and you heard the soft rustle of fabric, the elastic snap of his waistband being pushed down. Then the weight of him was settling between your thighs, and the hot, blunt pressure of his cock was pressing against your entrance, and looked at it immediately.
He was big. You’d known, but knowing and feeling were things, “Mark..wait-” you muttered out nervously, “Shh, it’s okay, you're okay trust me, it will feel so good jus’ let me show you.” He murmured, palming your hips closer to his as he adjusted his position, and you felt the stretch of him pushing just the head inside made your mouth fall open in a silent scream. Your hands flew to his biceps and gripped hard enough to leave crescents, but he barely flinched and he paused, forehead dropping to yours, breath coming in controlled exhales.
“Mark… your too big, its too…” you whimpered out, your lashes a little watery and his lips kissed your hairline, before his fingers gently swiped a bit of your tears away, his nose nudged against yours, and his brown swirls stared deeply into yours.
“I know sweetheart, ‘m sorry,” he murmured a little apologetically. “Just keep looking at me, keep your eyes on me.”
You opened your eyes-when had you closed them? and found his gaze already locked on your face. The intensity there made this feel less scary, somehow. Anchored you, because no one had ever been inside of you before, this was your first time, no boy ever made you feel like this before, and it was gonna be Mark Grayson that will take your virginity away, it was him.
His lips peppered a wet kiss on your cheek, his broad palm caressing your hair as you felt another wet peck near your jaw, and him kissing more away the tears that stained your cheeks a little.
“Breathe,” he instructed, and you realized you’d been holding your breath. You inhaled shakily, and on the exhale as he pushed deeper, another inch, another, the friction a liquid burn that radiated up your spine. “Shit…yeah, doing so good for me baby, open up, jus’ take it like that, just like that.” He cooed, as his cock slid in more deeper, he kept going, slow, so slow, until he was fully seated inside you, and the fullness was so complete, you were so filled up.
It felt like he was touching places nothing had ever touched before, you felt his hips against your pelvis and your lips parted into a ‘o’ your eyes blown wide as you really felt it, god he was so fucking big he was stretching you out, but the slight pain and burning sensation was slowly fading and now you melted into the sheets, your eyes were half lidded barely open, and he saw it, you looked out of it, but it’s okay he’ll take care of it.
You don’t have to do anything but lay there and take it, he will take good care of you, show you how good it feels, he felt your body relax more against the bed and your thighs spread a little farther apart between his waist, as your lips loosened, and he could feel your hips nudging against his like you needed it just as much as he did.
“There,” he breathed. “There you go, taking all of it, good girl.”
The praise turned your bones to water, and his hips stayed still for a long moment, letting you adjust, and you could feel every ridge and vein of him inside you, the pulse of his heartbeat transmitted through the place where your bodies joined. Then he finally moved.
Not thrusting. Rolling. A slow, deep grind that pressed his pubic bone against your clit and pushed the head of him against some deep internal spot that made starbursts bloom behind your eyes. Your mouth opened on a moan and he covered it with his palm, gentle but firm, muffling the sound.
He pulled out slowly, almost all the way, before plunging back in, the sound of your bodies meeting was wet and sloppy-a squelching noise that made your cheeks burn, The bed creaked continuously with every thrust, his heavy frame pinning you flat while his palm stayed clamped over your mouth. Each deliberate push bottomed out, his cock dragging along your walls before pumping back in, the wet squelch of your soaked pussy filling the room.
"You're taking it so deep, look at this pretty pussy." he groaned, his voice low and rough in my ear, he leaned down, trapping me beneath his massive body, covering my mouth with his hand again as a particularly loud whimper escaped my throat. "Shhh be quiet baby, I know it feels good, I know." your moans went muffled against his hand, your eyes blurry with little tears as he kept going.
He set a steady rhythm that was deliberate and unhurried, each stroke pulling out just enough to make you want more but keep you over the edge, the slide of him inside you was slick and obscenely loud in the quiet room, a wet sound that you’d have been mortified by if his face wasn’t contorting with pleasure above you, his lips now parted open as he kept pumping his hips.
He drove into you with long, slow yet hard strokes that punched the breath out of your lungs. The bed creaked continuously with every thrust. He pulled almost all the way out, the head of his cock stretching your entrance, then slammed back into the hilt. Your body jolted forward, a choked cry escaping past his fingers. He didn't speed up, just kept that relentless, measured rhythm, each stroke deliberate and deep, keeping you hovering right on the edge without letting you tip over.
His control was impressive because you could see the tension in his jaw, the way his hips wanted to snap more harder, faster but he held back, kept it slow, kept it steady. “You feel so good,” he gritted out, the words punched from him on an exhale, you mewled as he pushed you further deep into the bed to keep you from squirming, “Fuck, if I knew how good this pussy was, would've bent you over a long time ago baby girl.” his hips kept snapping, skin slapping against skin echoed in the room and your eyes nearly rolled back to your skull, it felt so so good, his praises felt so good, your hands limp by your sides gripped the sheets tightly as his hips kept hammering, your tears were soaking the pillows, and the more high pitched whines was being fucked out of you.
“Mark…” you cried out, your lashes fluttering, he looked down at you, His gaze stayed low, locked on the place where your bodies met, watching his cock slide in and out of you with steady, deliberate strokes. He dipped his head, mouth brushing over your skin, lips dragging slowly along your jaw until they reached your ear. His breath was hot against it as he kept thrusting, hips still rolling in a relentless rhythm that made the bed creak more and more beneath you both, to the point whatever was happening in the room and whoever passed by would’ve been obvious.
"That's it," he groaned, breath hot against your ear. "You’re takin it like a big girl huh? Look at you so fucking tight around my cock." Your pussy clenched hard at his words, dripping more slick down his thick shaft and onto the sheets, as you cried out, his hand left your mouth and slid down your body, fingers finding your clit again and finding your wet slickness, he circled in time with his thrusts, the dual stimulation was too much in the best way, building a second orgasm that you could feel in your teeth, making your toes curl.
“Come on my cock baby, let me feel it.” He whispered, the command tipped you over, along with his words lingered in your mind like it had control over you, your second orgasm was sharper than the first, a bright, blinding thing that made your vision tunnel and your inner muscles clamp down on him in pulses so strong you heard him hiss through his teeth.
You bit your own lip to keep from crying out and your body arched up into his sharply, he still fucked you through it, pace never faltering, and when you came down you were shaking, more tears leaking from the corners of your eyes, every nerve ending burned so good, but he didn’t stop, he leaned closer just looking at your tear streaked face, along with your hiccups.
“Give me one more.” his voice had gone rough, the restraint fraying at the edges, and his hips snapped more faster now, no longer holding back steadily, the wet slap of skin growing louder in the quiet room. Each thrust punched deeper, his cock dragging against your sensitive walls before slamming back in. "You can give me one more. I know you can."
“I nnh-can’t,” you whimpered, your hands pushed against his muscled chest slightly, your pussy so overstimulated, spasming more uncontrollably, “I can’t…” you whined.
“You can.” His pace quickening further, the bed creaked louder beneath you both with each hard thrust and every time his hips buried you to the hilt. “You will, look at you, this pussy is taking this cock like you were made for it, like you need it, ‘s what you wanted right?”
He was spurring you on and you nodded, incapable of speech, and he rewarded you with a thrust that hit so deep you saw white, The pleasure built up in waves, he was hitting your pussy so deep, the head of his cock bullying and kissing your cervix with every thrust. It was rough, bordering on brutal, but the way he held you, the way he looked at you, still was so tender it made your heart ache a little,
“Say it, say you want me, say you need me.” he whispered to you, as his hips pummeled deep inside your pussy, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, and you were so in bliss, that if someone walked by at this point no longer any of your worries, all you wanted was him to keep going, to keep fucking and using you like this.
“I wanted this,” you breathed, the confession tearing out of you. “Wanted you. Wanted your cock. Inside me… please, Mark, please-” more whines escaped your lips.
The begging broke something in him. His control slipped, thrusts becoming more harder, less measured, and the bed frame gave a warning creak that made you both freeze for half a heartbeat.
Then he shifted his hips, changing the angle, his cock pummeled out and back in with a wet slap again, this time one of your legs was hooked over his shoulder, opening you impossibly wider to him, and you let out a mewl, as he kept rocking his hips with an unbearable, slightly faster pace, his palm resting on where the bulge was on your belly.
The third orgasm built in layers you didn’t recognize, something heavier, deeper, spreading through your pelvis like heat through metal. Your mouth shaped a silent scream and Mark’s hand clamped over it again just so you won’t be too loud, his eyes wild, his rhythm stuttering.
“Going to come,” he gritted out “You want it? Want me to pump this pussy all up full with my cum?”
You nodded frantically, and he fucked you deep into your soul your eyes rolled back, lashes fluttering, a thin line of drool slipping from the corner of your mouth around his palm, and Mark was pounding you into the bed, his hips slammed forward hard, burying himself to the hilt. For one suspended second he pulled back, his cock sliding out with a wet plap that left you empty and clenching around nothing, then he drove in again, one final thrust that locked him deep, you felt his whole body went rigid above you.
You felt the first thick rope of cum pulse into you, hot and heavy, followed by another, and another, more whimpers left you, along with his cock jerked inside your gummy walls, flooding you with pulse after pulse until the warmth overflowed and leaking out around his shaft. He stayed locked there, grinding in tiny, involuntary circles as he emptied every last drop, breath ragged against your ear.
His cock slid out, then he rolled his hips in slow, lazy thrusts, letting more of his cum to seep out around your swollen pussy lips, you slumped into the mattress as you were out of the breath, that left you boneless and barely conscious.
He stayed inside you, pulsing, for what felt like minutes. His forehead dropped to your collarbone, breath hot and ragged, and your fingers tangled in his hair without thought, your eyes fluttered shut, the room smelled like sex and sweat and faint honey and slight wood, then you felt his lips kissed your cheek, everywhere and to your lips, to your neck.
Then, from the hallway, a floorboard creaked.
Your heart stopped. Mark’s head lifted, eyes cutting to the door-still cracked, still showing the same sliver of light and his body went tense above you, your head shot up before he firmly pressed your back down and towered over you again, his hips still slotted against the mattress, your legs spread between his as he admired his work, you sprawled on the bed with his cum leaking out of your thighs, and your cheeks were little pink, your hair slightly messy now.
He turned, his spare hand moved, rumpling underneath the sheets, like he was finding something and he did and founded your cotton underwear somewhere, he twirled it in his fingers absent mindedly and finally you felt his tip pull out, and his palms founded your thighs pulling you to him, you stared a little out of it, “Up baby,” he murmured, tapping your thigh gently and your mind felt like cotton, you just listened and lifted your hips, and he hummed satisfyingly.
His brown swirls bore into yours deeply and intensely, and you unfalteringly stared back, you see his lips part to saying something more before-
"Guys?" A voice, still thick with sleep but growing more alert, drifted into the room, and you immediately sat upright.
Mark turned, and in the blink of an eye, your blanket was pulled over your thighs, and by the time William stepped inside, Mark was somehow already back in his sweatpants, he was still shirtless, instead of on you was now sitting cross-legged beside you on the bed as though nothing had happened.
You barely caught how Mark managed it so quickly, before you could even question it at all or what you just saw unfolded, your attention shifted to your brother, who now stood in the doorway, his gaze lingering on the two of you.
"Hey, bro. What's up?" Mark asked casually, lifting a hand in a small wave, his brown eyes all looking so innocent, which was quite the contrary. Something did happen, and William obviously did not know or somehow didn’t catch on yet what was staring at his face.
The ‘I fucked your little sister next door when you were sleeping’ happened.
You gave a nod sheepishly, quickly smoothing your disheveled hair in an attempt to make yourself look a little more put together, William looked between the two of you, one eyebrow raised.
"Nah, nothing," he said. "I woke up to use the bathroom, but you weren't there. So I figured I'd check where you were... and you're in my sister's room?"
"Yeah," Mark replied easily. "Just checking in on her. Thought I'd stop by, say hi, and annoy her for a bit." He glanced at you, and you immediately caught on.
"Yeah," you added with a small shrug, trying to make all of these less suspicious in any further way possible. "But now I'd actually like to go back to sleep, so... instead of bothering me, maybe you could bother William since he's already awake." You smiled a little, your hands fidgeting and you see your brother let out a quiet snort, the tension cooled off you a little.
"See? Mini Clockbell has a point," Mark said with a grin, and William sighed. "Well Mark,” His hands rested on his hips and stared at him deadpan.
“You can’t bother me because I think I am just gonna head back to bed, and get my beauty sleep, so night, guys keep doin whatever you were doin." William mumbled through a yawn, giving a lazy wave before turning toward the hallway, You let out a soft reply ‘good night’ back along with Mark’s voice intermingling with yours at your brother’s remark.
The sound of his footsteps gradually faded until the house fell quiet once more, leaving just the two of you.
Only then did you look back at Mark, and he was already looking at you.
Without a word, his hand drifted over the blanket, gently kneading your thigh through the fabric before he pushed himself to his feet, and finally the warmth of his touch left you faded, his gaze never leaving yours, and you looked at him a bit too long, your lips still parted a little, your breaths becoming a little uneven, and his eyes fell on your lips before meeting back to your eyes, and your mind ran rampant.
It felt so good, and you wondered would this happen again? You felt the warm coiling sensation gather in your stomach already even though he strung it out of you and made you come until you couldn’t, leaving your body spent and used, you liked it, because you weren’t fucked this good out of your life before.
You swallow a little, the words came but died down heavily down your throat, and a faint smile tugged at the corner of Mark's lips, he made his way toward the door before pausing, tilting his head to look back at you one last time. “Night clockbell, see you tomorrow.” His eyes swept over you up and down before leaving, and your thighs rubbed a little underneath the blanket, and you bit your lip.
Because deep down, you knew this wasn't over, because tomorrow night, around this same hour, he would probably maybe somehow find his way back to your room, and somehow, you already knew how the night would unfold.
With him pinning you in the bed, his fingers interlaced with yours, his lips on your neck, with his hips slotted against yours, as he takes from you again, and makes you come more and more than last time, his hot breath against your cheeks, and maybe with his cock down your throat or-possibly you riding on his length over and over again, with his broad palms gripping your waist.
Maybe him taking you in multiple positions, and taking you nine ways to Sunday.
And maybe, just maybe… you were looking forward to it.
So, I wanted to ask if you could write a Thragg x reader. How would Thragg react when he wants more kisses from his partner? At first, he might not understand what kisses mean, but he'd get so used to them that when he wants one, he wouldn't even know how to ask for it.
Or, what would it be like to kiss him in different ways? (lol) I'm sorry if my idea isn't very clear, but English isn't my first language 😭
Well, that's all. Thanks for writing about Invincible; we needed more fanfiction.
Kisses with Thragg!
What kind does he like getting and giving?
Pairing: Thragg x gn!reader
Genre: fluff
Note: This is straight up Thragg being cute, blushy and completely ooc. To be happy is to be delusional!! ALSO THANK YOU FOR 100 FOLLOWERS WHAT??
A kiss on the cheek.
Receiving: 4/5 Approval
He first mistook kissing as affectionate nudging, similar to cats rubbing their heads together when content. As a Viltrumite, kissing and being affectionate isn’t normalised in their culture, so Thragg had to learn how humans show affection by watching movies, videos and reading stories. Exactly why are humans so keen on pressing their lips on the skin of their partner?
A peck on the cheek is the first piece of innocent affection Thragg experienced. You tip-toed for height, cupped his face and softly pressed your lips against his cheek. His whole face tenses, his jaw visibly tensing before pulling away from you immediately to process what exactly you just did to him. It’s… nice.
He can feel his system redirecting his blood up to his head whenever you lean in for a quick kiss on the cheek. Thragg’s composure falters briefly as his whole face flushes to a rosy colour. It sometimes makes you want to pinch his cheek and pull, just to see him glare and struggle.
“You are teasing me. I do not appreciate it, but I will tolerate it. Count your blessings.”
-
Giving: 3/5 Approval
As just mentioned, at first, he misinterprets the action of affection as a gentle nudge, so Thragg leans in and just nuzzles against your cheek briefly before pulling away. You had to give him a kiss first for him to realise Oh, this is the correct way of doing it.
He prefers other types of kisses, but the one on the cheek is the quickest and easiest way of doing it. You’re on your way out? Thragg corners you and gives you a gentle peck. You’re focused on a task and don’t notice his presence? He announces himself by resting his hands on your waist and pressing his lips against your skin. It’s his way of silently communicating with you, whether it be to say Hello, Bye, I’m happy to see you or I love you.
-
A kiss on the forehead.
Receiving: 2/5 Approval
He feels a bit like a child when you cup is face, angle him down and tip-toe just to kiss his forehead. It’s soft, it’s warm, but it also feels a little belittling. Besides, why go through all this trouble when you can just kiss him on the cheek or lips.
Thragg likes it more during vulnerable moments, though. For example, you’re lying in bed while he is buried in a book about the fascinating world of plants in the Amazonian forest, you use the moment of distraction to lean over, plant a kiss on his hairline and then curl up against him for a cuddle. He just hums in reply and pulls you a fraction closer to him.
Overall, you can train this man to accept forehead kisses and to melt against you, like you taught him to love all your other ways of kissing. It only takes some time.
“I am no child. There is no need for this coddling.”
Giving: 2/5 Approval
Giving you a kiss on the forehead doesn’t feel affectionate enough, in his mind. The gesture of cradling your face, angling it for him so Thragg can lean forward and kiss your hairline, feels like it is lacking something. It’s not enough to express what he feels for you, so he just opts for other gestures of affection instead of placing a kiss on your forehead.
-
A kiss on the lips.
Receiving: 5/5 Approval
No doubt, probably the easiest and best way to make Thragg’s face flush a cute rosy colour. You don’t always manage to fluster him, sure, but he adores it when you manage to catch him off-guard by giving him a quick kiss on the lips. He hums in acknowledgement and doesn’t really pull you back for another, prolonged kiss, but his eyes will follow you around for a bit when you move away. How you managed to captivate him the way you do and did, he doesn’t have a clue.
Also, he didn’t know that kissing on the lips was a really a thing on earth. Every planet has its’ own culture and way of showing love or something, but kissing on the lips feels a little too intimate for the Viltrumite. He needed some time schooling his face and not to tense up in surprise when you lean in with a mischievous grin and with the intent of peppering his lips and moustache in kisses.
Now, it’s one of his favourite ways to receive your love, besides having a hand rest somewhere on you at all times. Instead of tensing up when you gently tilt his chin, Thragg eases into your touch and almost melts against your lips.
“Again. Give me another.”
-
Giving: 4/5 Approval.
Before you, Thragg was never one to even think about showing affection to his potential partner. A relationship only benefits for breeding, and even then, you are not affectionate with your partner. So, when you came along and decided to keep his heart for yourself, you had to introduce him to the concept of showing affection. That includes him showing you some as well.
After getting over the fact that humans kiss on their mouthes, you had to teach him to kiss properly and the way you like it. Sometimes he was too rough, other times too soft, and then finally, Thragg learned to simply lean in and softly press his lips against yours.
The dam broke that day, because nothing held him back from kissing you randomly at all times during the day. A kiss while you’re standing in front of the microwave, dressed in old and stained clothes? The perfect time to corner you and kiss you, over and over. Oh, so you just applied some lipstick while getting ready for a cute date with him? Too bad, he messed and smeared it up all over by wanting a kiss, and another, and another… Just remind him that his lips now have more gloss than yours do.
-
Kiss on the neck.
Receiving: 4/5 Approval.
Don’t tell anyone, but… Thragg is actually really ticklish in his neck area, so whenever you sneak over with some malicious intent, he squirms away and protects his vulnerable neck with his hands. You had to lie and convince him that Nooo, I’m not gonna do anything… so you can actually jump him and kiss his exposed neck as much as you want!
After surviving your lips peppering kisses all over his sensitive skin, Thragg started to build a resistance towards his ticklishness. Now, instead of almost flying through a wall in surprise after you placed a single kiss on the back of his neck, he hums contently and tilts his head ever so slightly to expose more of his hot skin. He invites and welcomes it now.
“Hmm, this seems like something that has to be continued in the bedroom.”
-
Giving: 5/5 Approval.
Yes, yes, yes!! Once Thragg realised that kissing your neck and watching you blush is an option, he never recovered. During ever cuddle, ever nuzzle and lying in each other’s arms now MUST include at least one mandatory kiss on the lips, neck, cheek..
He adores nuzzling into your warm skin and breathing in your scent, his lips ghosting over your heated skin, his fingers sneaking under your shirt to feel the curve of your stomach and waist. His thumb teasingly brushes over your ribs as he gently bites down and gives your soft skin a nibble. It takes a lot of willpower to not leave 9 hickeys behind every time he manages to corner you and plant his lips all over your skin.
Thragg doesn’t tolerate you squirming away when it gets ticklish. If he’s not allowed to escape your lovely trap, you’re not allowed to either!
☀︎
Author’s note. Thank you for reading!
AHHH I was absent for so long, I’m so sorry!! I celebrated my birthday, got voted into my city’s local council and had a lot of exams coming up in my school. I was a tad busy, but I wanted to write again, so I did! I missed my alien malewife
If you have the means and would like to support me and my (psychology-) class graduating in 2027 , here’s the kofi I created for us!—> https://ko-fi.com/vrystalius
All money sent/donated will be put into my class’s graduation funds. I will receive none of it, but you’ll get something nice in return <33
Yooo I'm not sure if you're still taking fic requests but if you're up to it could you do some headcanons on how multipaul would react if reader left lipstick marks all over his face but didn't tell him and let him walk around with allat on his face😭
Allow me to offer these doodles up to you in an attempt to convince you to write this
❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
Hi! I saw your art when I was scrolling through my tags, I was surprised when I saw you left a request (ᵕ—ᴗ—)
Still! I know I'm a slow writer, but I've been busy and demotivated, but I'm trying to write as much as I can... ( °ヮ° )
CW: Not proof read...
Word count: ~480
Invincible masterlist
Surprise kisses!
.・。.・゜✭・.
.・。.・゜✭・.
❥ It would just be a casual day when you got the devilish idea.
❥ Paul was just getting ready to go out to finish off some errands. Mr. Liu hadn't assigned him with anything, so he figured he should grab some things before he's called off on another grueling mission.
❥ He'd be halfway out the door before you'd call out to him, not giving him enough time to see you before your cupped his face and pressed kisses all over him.
❥ He'd fuss and complain... but the growing grin on his face shows his lies.
❥ Then you'd be shoving him out the door with an overly cheerful goodbye, not offering any more context or reason for your sudden attack before you promptly slammed the door in his face.
❥ He'd linger a little at the front door before huffing and walking away with a small pout coated as annoyance. Unbeknownst to him, his face was littered in lipstick marks that you were overly giggling about as you walked back into the bathroom for a touch up.
❥ Paul would notice the stares, of course he would. But the last thing in his mind was that there was something on his face to stare at. He figured they were scared, recognized him from a news post or something of the sort, so he continued his shopping as usual.
❥ People would drop hints, leaving him even more confused. Things like "Lucky you."; "You had fun?" and "Bold of you." would slip past strangers when they'd be close enough for his ears to catch, but when he questioned it they would awkwardly retreat without elaborating.
❥ It's only when he gets back home with bags of groceries that he gets to see what they were talking about...
"I'm home!" Paul yelled out into his apartment, kicking his door clothes and shoes off as he rushed to the kitchen to drop off his bags.
"Did you get everything you needed?" You looked up from the couch, a grin growing on your face when you saw your lipstick marks had not wavered in the slightest.
"Yup, and a little extra for you." He hummed, trying to act nonchalant as he handed over a sweet treat he dug up from the bottom of one bag.
"Aw, you're too kind." You chuckled, pulling him down and pressing a kiss to his lips with a satisfied smile. You noticed the way his eyes shot down to your lips, catching the lipstick with a small huff as he pushed his body away from yours.
"Lipstick? You could've warned me." He chuckled, already heading to the bathroom to clean himself off.
"I could have..." You murmured into the empty room, grinning as you turned back to the TV and waited.
The moment you heard your name being yelled out in disbelief, you couldn't hold your laughter any longer.
Hii could I request a drabble or smau whichever you prefer for prompts “Are you that oblivious or are you trying to make me jealous?” “Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about!” with mark grayson and a genuinely oblivious reader ?
the last midnight.
fwb!mark grayson x fem!reader
summary: 1.4k
“Are you seriously this oblivious or are you trying to make me jealous on purpose?” he says.
“What are you talking about, Mark? We’re just friends,” you say, though you’ve shrunken down considerably under his gaze.
or the one where a guy at a bar flirts with you.
content: mentions of drinking, but no one gets drunk, emotionally constipated mark + reader, they don't admit their feelings, jealous!mark, can be read standalone but intended to be pre!confession mark and reader
masterlist
It was supposed to be a fun night out. An easy night. You’d just finished up your exams and you were in desperate need of some liquor and dancing to ease the pain of the study-induced hangover you’d been nursing for the past two weeks.
It had been Mark’s idea to hit up the new bar that had opened downtown, Rock Bottom. It was a cute enough name for you to agree without much argument, even if you’d initially wanted to go to the calmer dive bar you’d been frequenting throughout college. Still, a change of pace seemed to be a nice way to kick off your summer.
“I gotta take this call real quick,” Mark sighs, irritation scrunching up his features as he glares down at his phone. It was still decently early into the night, but you’d both had a couple of drinks. Not enough for either of you to be drunk, yet–certainly not Mark–but you’ve got a delightful little buzz circulating through you.
“Cecil?” you ask, turning in the stool he’s currently crowding you up against to face him better. The bar was packed, though you should’ve expected it with how new the establishment was. You couldn’t imagine how difficult it must have been to get a drink on opening night.
“Yeah,” he grunts. “I told him I was out of commission tonight, but he’s being especially annoying. It’ll be two seconds.”
“Don’t drink and fly,” you laugh.
With that, Mark slips out from behind you and starts walking toward one of the side doors. You’re left with a chill along your back and a half-empty drink.
You’re attempting to wave down the bartender–or, more accurately, stare at the bartender with a special glint in your eye that indicates you’re ready for another round–when warmth floods your back again. A hand plants itself on the back of your stool and you can smell expensive cologne wafting up into your nostrils. Huh. You don’t remember Mark wearing anything that smelled like that when you left his place earlier. Maybe the bathroom was just especially… cologne-y?
“That was quick,” you hum, leaning back into the space as you turn your head to find-
Not Mark. “Oh, hi. Sorry, I thought you were my friend.”
You awkwardly laugh as you scoot yourself up to the front of the stool, nearly hanging off the thing, with the best posture you’d had in ten years. Embarrassment flushes through you, even with your liquor jacket.
“That’s alright,” the guy says easily, taking his hand off the back of your chair when he realizes he’s made you uncomfortable. “I didn’t mean to… you know. I’m just trying to get a beer.”
“Oh, yeah,” you laugh. You’ve eased into a sense of nervousness rather than your immediate panic. “I’ve been trying for like ten minutes.”
New guy is actually rather cute when you get a good look at him. Wide smile, impressively green eyes, shaggy blonde hair falling over his forehead. You even notice a nice set of dimples in his cheeks.
“Yeah? Shocker. Usually they’re real quick to help out all the pretty girls first,” he says.
“I don’t know about that,” you laugh, flushed through with a different kind of heat.
“No, it’s true. I’ve been passed over a million times for girls like you,” he says, eyes bright. “Maybe if I buy you a drink the bartender will get me a beer quicker, too.”
“Oh, I’ve already got a tab going,” you say. “Thanks, though.”
“I can still get you-”
“She’s taken care of, dude. Just get lost,” Mark’s voice rings in your other ear.
“Oh, hey,” you grin, turning away from mystery man to look at him. “Everything good?”
“It’s fine. I managed to get him off my back tonight,” he offers you a tight smile before returning his gaze back to the new addition.
“Hey, I’m Ryan.” Mystery man, or Ryan, apparently, sticks his hand out towards Mark.
“I don’t really care, dude,” Mark grunts as he reaches around you to grab the drink he’d left with you. When you expect him to retreat fully, he doesn’t. He leaves the arm wrapped around the back of your chair and it almost feels like he’s closing you off entirely from the bar. Or, from Ryan, more specifically.
He retreats with his hands raised and you try to shoot him an apologetic look as he scampers off to the other end of the bar, still in search of a beer as it seems.
“Mark, what the hell?” you scoff. “He was being nice.”
“Oh, c’mon, he was totally flirting with you,” he says dismissively as he downs the rest of his drink in one go. The idea of it puffs your chest out a bit. A guy at a bar flirting with you? Just because?
“So what if he was?” you fight back. It sucks that you feel ashamed of your answer, ashamed of the way you liked being flirted with, being wanted, even in retrospect. It’s not like Mark was knocking down your door to be your boyfriend, no matter how good of a fuck he may be.
He narrows his eyes at you. He reaches down to spin the stool around with you still sitting in it and rests his arms on the bartop on either side of you.
“Are you serious right now?” he asks. His eyes are darker than you’ve seen them in a while, brows furrowed. It’s hard to ignore how powerful he is when he’s like this. He’s not the goofy guy you’re used to crawling in your bed in the middle of the night to watch sitcoms with. He’s strong. He’s a Viltrumite. He’s…
“What?” you ask quietly.
“Are you seriously this oblivious or are you trying to make me jealous on purpose?” he says.
“What are you talking about, Mark? We’re just friends,” you say, though you’ve shrunken down considerably under his gaze.
“Don’t do that. Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about,” Mark groans as he pulls back. He digs the palms of his hands into his eyes, only to see various other bar patrons staring at him when he looks around again. He grabs your hand, dropping a couple twenties on the bar in compensation for his unpaid tab, and starts dragging you out of the bar.
“Woah, hey!” you try, digging your heels in slightly as you try to slow him down. It’s useless, unsurprisingly, and just leads to you tumbling face first into Mark. He cradles you against him effortlessly, his grip shifting from your hand to the small of your back, and his pace doesn’t falter. In fact, it doesn’t stop until you’re out of the bar and down the street and completely away from prying eyes and ears.
“We’re not just friends,” he says.
“Mark.”
“You know that, right? That we’re not just friends.” His tongue comes out to wet his bottom lip. “I don’t know how to be just friends with you.”
“Ryan was just being nice,” you say as you reach for the bottom hem of his shirt. It pulls him closer, stumbling steps until there’s barely an inch separating you both.
“Don’t bring him up right now. Please,” he huffs.
“Okay,” you murmur. You don’t want to ask what this means. What you are. What you actually mean to him. This is the most you’ve gotten out of him since all this mess had started up, since you started sleeping with your best friend. “Okay. Let’s just go home.”
“Yeah, baby,” he relaxes instantly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Okay, yeah. Let’s go home.”
It’s past midnight when the two of you finally make it to your apartment. Mark had tried to fly you both back, but you’d insisted you’d needed the walk to burn off the little bit of alcohol in your system. You’re blissfully sober when you unlock your door, the both of you bee-lining for your bedroom and making quick work of stripping down into your bed clothes. Mark in his boxers and you in a shirt he’d left over the last time he’d spent the night.
You’re not sure exactly what you expected to happen when you got here, but it wasn’t this. You didn’t expect for Mark to not start kissing up your shoulder the second you slide up under the covers. You didn’t expect for him to curl around you and tug you into his chest without the pretense of sex or a movie. You don’t expect him to fall asleep beside you with little more than a “night” whispered against your ear.
But, you find that you don’t mind it. You like it, actually, having him here like this. It’s strangely reminiscent of the way you used to be together. When you were just friends.
I’m SO SORRY GUYS!! My writing block has been insane!!!! I think I almost cried the last time I tried to write but it’s getting better, I have finished the mark Grayson headcanons but it might take a while again! I’m so sorry for not updating sooner
summary: A fear filled Mark returns to Earth in search of the Viltrumites
a/n: i was thinking of this childhood crush mark x reader puppy love fluff + light angst if any??
The once snow-covered boots make way for Spring’s mud tracks. The cool breeze ripples through the park’s grass the overgrown weeds spanning across the field. Mark imagines it clearly. As clearly as he can from the crappy ship when the days blend together. He’d kept track at one point, but fight after fight leaves him with less knowing and more guessing. Guessing that it’s sometime in Spring on Earth and guessing how you’re probably in some park walking with Debbie. Guessing that you still believe he’s alive. The biggest guess is that you’re safe.
He’d left Earth thinking he’s saved you taking the fight somewhere you’d never see but as he approaches the atmosphere, he knows he’s condemned you. Blowing up a planet isn’t a deed that goes unpunished not by the most vengeful blood thirsty species to exist. And so, Mark’s guess is that he and the coalition have trapped the people on Earth to wait for a punishment they never know will come.
Zoe talks to someone he’s not sure who. His anxieties warble her words it’s all noise to him. His leg bounces up and down riddled with worry. Lump in his throat waiting to rob him of all the words he’s too afraid to speak.
The silence breaks.
“Earth in T minus 20 minutes”
And the sound that Mark makes leaves before he completely realizes it. It’s the sound of speed tearing through the wind in an otherwise peaceful sky.
He hovers over Earth breath shakily exhaled as he confirms that the Viltrumites aren’t here yet.
You feel it first. The subtle shake of the house in response to the incoming speed of a returning Grayson. The warmth of his body presses against you. A closeness you haven’t felt since he left and a silence so comforting you’re not sure whether it’s for you or him. You stand there tender yet grounded in all the ways he missed.
“You’re here”
“I missed you. I couldn't breathe not knowing whether you were okay or not.” His stomach lurches at the admission of doubt.
As wild as his thoughts run, he knows that this is the one place that will corral it.
♡⋆⭒˚｡⋆
It’s always been the rooftop. For years the subtlety of the breeze was enough to shake the thoughts from his mind like fallen leaves. That was when things were simple. Simple when injustice and blood shed were long time strangers and not familial. Simple when his biology feared the scent of blood, the bile churning in his stomach. Simple before his thoughts betrayed him screaming that this isn’t real. That you aren’t pressed against him on the rooftop. That the wafting of your shampoo is a trick. Or that the kisses you’ve scattered on him burn instead of tickle. The weight of everything lodges in his throat.
“Mark” you whisper
“What’s wrong?”
The tears that fall are instinctual. As simple as breathing and as broken as his family.
“Everything”
It’s shaken and tiny and so unlike the boy who used to laugh so loudly.
He tries to keep the lump in his throat at bay.
“I didn’t save anyone.”
“You can’t really believe that.”
“All we did was piss them off. They’ll be coming here and- we can lose everything.” His voice cracks words rushed and jagged as if giving the time and space for the words to hang in the air will make them come true. He’s scared to speak. His grip tightens in your hand.
“You’ve survived everything you never thought you could. You coming back and being here, that’s a win. For you, me, Debbie. Mark, you’ve saved us all more than once and more than we could count. Right now, you have everything you thought you could’ve lost and look at us. Alive because of you.”
A kiss to his temple. Small and feather light and somehow enough to ease the weight of all the worlds he’s saved off his shoulders. And for the first time since his return, he breathes.
He takes the view in dandelions sprouting from the corner of sidewalks. Sunset dusted in a rosy pink that feels all too much like those high school nights. And suddenly he feels like a boy again. Big enough to go to space and small enough to stutter a confession.
“Do you remember when we’d go to the park as kids? You, me, William, all our moms. You used to sit there plucking all the dandelions from the ground.”
“How could I forget I always got in trouble for the grass stains in my clothes.” You chuckle and he can’t help but return it.
“There was this one day we went and you just stopped and stared at the field. The only thing you said that day at the park was “look at all those wishes.” “I uh- I used to wish for you on every dandelion because you loved them so much and every birthday candle and all those came true.”
“I wished for you too.”
“And this Spring I wished for you every day.”
“How is that different from any other Spring?” He laughs the feeling too familiar not to spread warmth in your cheeks.
“There aren’t dandelions in space. But when I was up there, I just kept thinking that all I needed was another wish to pull me through.”
“How do you think you got here, I wished enough for the both of us.”
Hello!!! First things first, I love your writing a lot, it's soo good(๑•ᴗ•๑)♡
And also could you write something of Mark x chubby/fat reader please? :3 tysm!!!
mark is a proud munch, we know this. he loves your fat, he would definitely prefer girls who have some meat on their hips. there would be times that marks had dreams you two together, seeing you in a tight bikini at a beach, he was in a xvideo. when he wakes up, mark is visibly upset that his wet dream ended so quickly, but at least he has you.
if your insecure, mark doesn’t need to fuck you to make you believe that you’re gorgeous. he’ll fly and take you both to more stores that have your size, even offering to be inside of the dressing room. he’ll look around for clothes that would fit your style, then beg you to try on panties or laced bras. don’t get him started on tights and thigh highs, mark would need an entire kaiju to be pulled off of you.
