ft: mainstream!mark and variants (mohawk, viltrum, omni, sheisty, sinister) (invincible)
reader: fem
wc: 2604
summary: hey siri is it gay to want to crack the female version of my dead best friend?
cw: canon typical violence, foul language, and the variants are kinda sorta freaky in this
requested by: @sophsthebest
this was so fun to write lowk and I would've been done faster if not for the blood moon event in dbd so err yeah I'm going to go die in a hole now
edit: so i quit writing invincible but here's a partial part two
Life is strange, really.
One moment, you’re helping refold shirts because some people don’t even have the decency to put stuff back to where they found it, and the next, an international warning tells you to stay inside because there are evil variants of your boyfriend now roaming the Earth with unclear intentions.
You share a look with your coworker, who looks just as off-put by the information, her fingers curling around her phone as her brow dips. Just as her lips part to speak, the first building falls. It’s only a few blocks away, and the ground beneath your feet trembles at its sudden collapse.
You hear the screams of those out on the street, internally debating whether or not to follow suit until a notification from Mark lights up your screen, the ridiculous nickname you’d set when you were twelve a small comfort to your racing heart.
MarkyWarky: please tell me you’re okay
You: i’m fine
You: i’m just scared mark
You: why are there so many versions of you anyway…
MarkyWarky: i wish i could tell you
MarkyWarky: just stay put alright im otw
The message does little to soothe, and you can’t help but stare at your screen with nothing but apprehension. Your coworker is quick to seize you by the arm when the sound of collapsing buildings and wailing cars draws closer, ushering you into the break room with the floor manager as though the small, unwindowed room would protect you from the raw strength of a Viltrumite.
“Holy shit, we’re gonna die…We’re actually going to die…” The floor manager, Kasandra, curls into herself with tears already welled in her eyes as she chokes back a sob. No one says anything, unable to face the grim reality at steak when debris begins to crumble around you. You all huddle into the furthest corner as your hope in Mark begins to wane.
Small pieces of rubble hit your head as you tuck your head tightly into Kasandra’s shaking shoulder, the lights overhead flickering violently when the ceiling begins to cave in on itself. There’s no use holding back the tears now and you can’t hide your anguished cries, unheard over the collapsing infrastructure.
This is it, you think, mentally saying your goodbyes to everyone you’ve grown to love. Amber. Eve. William. Mark—oh, Mark. The annoying boy next door who grew to be your first love.
Sparks flare as the light above you finally collapses, but you don’t feel a throbbing pain in your head or death’s cold embrace, instead, you find yourself wrapped in a familiar pair of arms, still clinging to an almost catatonic Kasandra while your coworker grips the forearm wrapped around the three of you.
“I’ve got you,” a voice in your ear says, and you can feel the tears begin to well once more, though, this time out of relief. Mark is quick to shoot from the rubble, hold unwavering before he sets the three of you down and urges you to run to safety.
Your two coworkers are quick to flee, but you stupidly linger, worry etched onto your features at the sight of Mark’s beaten face and tattered suit. In the distance, you can see Eve facing valiantly against a variant, the odd cloth mask adorned on his face his most defining trait. She pants, her palms facing outward to just barely raise a shield against his erratic punches.
Mark pulls your attention back to him, face pinched as his thumb traces your lower lip in an attempt to ground both you and himself. His lips are soft against your forehead for a brief moment before he pulls back, staring at you through his cracked goggles with an emotion you can’t quite place.
“I love you,” you whisper, stroking his bruised cheek softly.
“I love you too. But, you need to go. Now. I’ll check on you soon, promise.”
So, you run as fast as your legs can carry you, doing your best to ignore the ruins and corpses that seem to block every turn.
You don’t get far.
A shadow overhead blocks the sun—its presence so oppressive and commandeering that it freezes you in place.
“Another survivor?”
You can’t bring yourself to turn despite the way your heart lurches at the familiarity of the voice. Your breath hitches when the shadow lowers—whatever twisted version of Mark this is drawing ever closer like a lion to its prey.
“I thought those other two were the last of them, but what’s one more?” The voice is cold, almost clinical, very unlike the warmth that radiated off of your Mark. A glove is quick to find purchase on your throat, and you glance down to see the red rubber shining beneath the sun.
Blood coats the hand, tinting the glove an even darker shade of red than what you’d first surmised. You try not to think about the warmth of it as his grip grows tighter, making it harder to breathe, but not enough to kill, like he’s messing with you in some cruel, twisted way.
“You’re this dimension’s girlfriend, aren’t you?” His lips press against the shell of your ear, jerking your body to face the fight between Mark and the clothed one from before alongside Eve, who reaches out to you weakly before eventually crashing against the side of one of the buildings. Your Mark wheezes, clutching at his chest when the cloth-masked variant throws him into a nearby building by the hair. “Pathetic.”
The sound barrier tears as another Mark enters the fray, his mohawk wild and unkempt in the wind as he grins at the sight of battle, though there’s no amusement behind his smile. “Who the hell do you think you are running off like that?” For a moment, his wild eyes slip to where you and your captor reside, a flicker of…something flashing through his before it fizzles away. “Keeping hostages alive? Didn’t peg you for the cruel type.”
You barely register the click of the Invincible’s tongue over the roaring beat of your heart, his thumb remaining stationary over your pulse point; a warning. He could snap your neck at any given moment, and you don’t know what’s stopping him, but you’re grateful for whatever’s causing him to hesitate.
“Come on, just put her out of her misery already,” the mohawked Mark goads with a small shrug as he pulls his fist back to punch your Mark into the concrete when the cloth-masked variant throws him in his direction. Cracks split beneath your feet at the sheer force, the ground almost giving way, but all you can do is watch as your Mark slowly gets up from the crater his body had formed.
He locks eyes with you, something snapping inside of him at the sight of the variant clad in a suit nearly identical to Omni-Man’s wrapping his hand around your throat.
“[Name]!” He calls out, bursting free from the grasp of the two other Marks with a renewed sense of vigor.
Time seems to freeze the moment your name leaves his bloodied lips, the Mark holding you hostage too stunned to react when your Mark’s fist collides with his jaw hard enough to send him three blocks away. It isn’t long until you’re swept into Mark’s arms, the hold both protective and possessive as he glares at the other two, his chest heaving with each labored breath he struggles to take.
“No fuckin’ way.” The mohawked variant blinks slowly, his lips pulling into a mix of a grimace and a smirk. “That’s unfair on so many levels.” He turns to the Mark in a cloth mask who seems to share the same sentiment, mumbling under his breath about how unfair it is that this version of him gets the hot babe.
Omni-Man Mark merely scoffs when he floats back, his suit still pristine as though he’d never been thrown at all while he crosses his arms over his chest, scrutinizing the way you tremble in this version of him’s hold. You aren’t the best friend he’d killed mercilessly back in his dimension. Here, you were a woman—his woman. And he’d be damned if he couldn’t kill two birds with one stone.
A best friend and a wife. Who would’ve thought?
While he’d never seen the other, male, version of you in a romantic light, his heart stirs at the thought of taking this version of you for himself. It’s not like it’ll take much to kill this Mark; he’s already as good as dead anyway—
“Is everything alright here?” Clad in white and silver, yet another version of Mark descends from the sky like some sort of disgraced angel.
“Ugh, why are you here?” Mohawk Mark rolls his eyes obnoxiously, his gaze only briefly flickering to the new variant.
“Angstrom sent me to see if you all were sticking to the plan, which clearly you aren’t.”
“Aww, the lil’Viltrum baby can’t do anything without a mission? How sad!” He bats his lashes dramatically before sneering. “What are you gonna do next, bark? Who gives a shit about the plan? You’re acting as if you weren’t gonna kill him after anyway!”
The Mark in the Viltrum uniform chooses not to dignify him with a response.
Unbothered by his counterpart’s nonchalance, the mohawked Mark sets his sights back on you, spreading his arms wide as if to welcome you in with a hug. “Hey, [Name], it’s just me. Just Mark. Your best friend, remember? We used to play CoD and shit when your parents were out.”
Viltrum Mark’s brows furrow at the familiar name, steady gaze finally paying you mind as you try to sink further into the Mark of this dimension’s arms. You’re a lot…softer than he recalls you being, your form far less filled out; almost feminine. But, that couldn’t be right, right? How cruel would it be for this version of him to have the perfect mate whilst he, while grateful for your prior companionship, was stuck with nothing more than a best friend? One that he’d ultimately killed for resisting.
Surely, his brain is playing tricks on him.
Then he hears it—they all hear it.
The small terrified whimper you let out, the sound almost heavenly as you try to curl into Mark like your life depends on it. Which you suppose it does at this very moment.
A collective groan settles across all the present variations of Mark, all differing levels of arousal. They can practically taste the fear emanating off of you, stalking closer like a pack of deranged wolves.
Disgust pulls at Mark’s lips at the look in their eyes, his arms trembling around you as the last line of defense between you and these monstrous versions of him. “What the hell are you guys on about?” He seethes, only to be met by a suffocating silence.
Viltrum Mark appears in front of you before you and Mark can process his presence, tearing you out of your boyfriend’s arms despite your screaming protests. His grip is firm, but it’s the underlying softness in it that has you trembling with both fear and confusion. One of his hands finds your chin, stroking the contour of your jaw while his thumb gently presses down on your lower lip in a similar fashion that your Mark had done earlier.
“You’re [Name].” His face twists with perplexion as he speaks. “But, you’re so soft.” You feel his other hand fall from your arm, settling on your hip as if to prove a point. He squeezes and prods the fat, slipping beneath the fabric of your shirt to feel the soft skin underneath, his fingers splaying against your stomach while his nose buries itself in your neck. “You’d be a great mother.”
No.
No.
No.
This can’t be happening—
You’re pulled into another set of arms. These ones leaner yet more possessive than the Viltrum Mark’s. But not yours.
“Jesus what the fuck is wrong with you.” Mohawk Mark’s voice rasps mockingly above you, his arm curling around you and dangerously close to your breasts. You know he feels your heart stop, snorting cruelly as he pulls you flush against him. His gloved hand tilts your chin up to him cruelly, relishing in the way tears well in your eyes.
“P-Please…” You weakly claw at his wrist despite knowing how useless it is in comparison to his innate strength.
Holy fuck, he could get used to the sound of that.
Man, why couldn’t you be a girl in his world too? Oh, the things he would do to you. How he would ruin you. He wonders if you’re similar to his [Name], the [Name] who trusted him to do the right thing only to die trying to stop what’s already been done. Do you play the same sport as your male counterpart? Enjoy the same food? Ah, whatever, you’re still his, no matter his relation to you. Best friend or otherwise.
“Get away from her you fucking freak!” Your Mark’s garbled voice reaches your ears, his fist colliding with the side of the mohawked variant’s head, sending him careening into the white-clad Viltrumite. Mark doesn’t even get the chance to look over you before he shoots into the air with you in his hold, tucking your head into his shoulder as he whispers calming words into the crown of your head. “I’ve got you, baby,” he echoes his prior sentiment, flying as fast as he can with the cloth-mask and Omni-Man wannabe hot on his tail.
A familiar red glove catches Mark’s leg, snapping it easily. Mark screams, his teeth grinding as he pivots his other leg directly into the variant’s face, no doubt breaking his nose before he crashes into the cloth-masked Mark, who yells obscenities as the two of them crash into the city below.
Finally, silence settles between the two of you. Heavy with confusion. Heavy with fear.
“What the hell was that…” You cling to him, trembling like a newborn fawn in his hold.
“I—I don’t know.” He buries his nose in your neck as he lowers into a desolate field miles away from any civilization, breathing in your comforting scent beneath the smell of iron and ash that seem to cling to your skin while he settles against a tree. The field is peaceful; untouched by the destruction that plagues the rest of the world.
“...What about Eve and the others?” You hesitate, palms hovering over his broken leg to do your best to put the limb back together. The bone melds back together grotesquely, it's disgusting snap a sound you think you’ll never get used to.
“Eve slipped away before things got ugly. I’m not too sure about the others…” He lets out a low hiss, his fingers digging into the ground when his skin gets pulled tautly back into place. “I’m just glad you’re okay. I won’t let them get to you, not as long as I’m still breathing, alright?”
“Okay,” you breathe out, collapsing into his chest as you try not to think about everything you’ve lost in such a short amount of time. He kisses your forehead gently, leaning back against the tree for only a moment of respite.
“Aww, what a cute sight.” A patronizing voice overhead has both of you snapping your heads to the sound. Clad in yellow and black with a billowing cape behind him, this version of Mark sneers, his gaze looking between you and Mark. His brows raise beneath his mask, lips forming something akin to a sadistic grin. “Well, well, well. You’re looking a bit different here, aren’t you, [Name]?”
“…WANNA DRAG YOUR LIFELESS BODY TO A FOREST & FORNICATE WITH IT.”
synopsis — smutty part two of sinister mark coming into the universe with one goal: to find you, as you’re dead in his universe and every other one he’s searched. you’re only friends with the original mark but sinister is obsessed with you. things go slightly south and now you’re hiding sinister from everyone in the comfort of your own home.
sinister invincible ✘ m reader
contains — pillow prince reader, dumbification, drool + spit used as lube, creampie, fingering, dick riding, deep throat, doggy-style, biting if you squint (sinister receiving), og mark catches you guys, slight angst.
“Since you asked so nicely.” He lifted you up just enough to align his cock to your puckered, twitching hole, rolling his hips upwards just enough to feel the tight ring of muscle start to stretch.
“H- Hhn,” your breath hitched as his dick sunk inside that velvet heat inch by inch.
“Fucking shit..” he suddenly groaned.
You wrap your arms around his shoulders, hiding your face against his neck. You lift your hips and slowly start to bounce on his cock.
“Mmh, Mark..” you moaned, warm breath tickling his skin.
His hips buck upward, meeting your descent with a sharp slap of flesh against flesh. “You feel.. so good. Just like that.”
One of his hands treks down to your ass, gripping it roughly as he uses your flesh to guide your movements—forcing you to take more of his cock with each grind downward.
“N- Nnghh— aah,” you whimper, biting down on his neck.
The squelches and slaps of skin echo through the room, punctuated by your moans and his grunts.
With a sharp gasp, Sinister hilts deep inside you, his cock throbbing as it pumps hot, sticky semen into your ass. You almost yelp, roughly biting down on his flesh to which he yanks you off his lap.
“Ugh..” he clicks his tongue as he drags his fingertips over the deep marks on his neck. “Y’know.. biting is my thing.”
—
Sinister purred when you laid on your back, lifting both your legs up, knees bumping your shoulders—practically folded in half.
He's still rock hard, not a single sign of him softening after his first orgasm. And the new angle allows him to sink even deeper into you.
You feel so incredibly full, stuffed to the brim with his pulsing cock.
He starts to roll his hips, sawing his thick shaft in and out of your stretched, slick hole.
“A- Aahh— Maaark!”
“What would, ngh, your Mark think if he saw you like this?”
“D- Don’t talk about him right now!”
He snickered lowly as angled his hips, hitting your prostate inside dead on.
“Mmmhh—“ You whined loudly, eyes glazed over.
Sinister pulls out slooowly then slams his cock back in with sharp thrusts.
Your noises got louder—panting, gasping, moaning. You weren’t even trying to hide your pleasure.
The creaking of the bed frame fills the room as he fucks into you wildly. His heavy balls slap against your ass with each vicious thrust.
“Aah! U- Uuuf.. ohhh, Mark!!”
You were practically seeing stars—nothing has ever felt this good before. “I- I need to— mmphh, cum.”
You let out shaky pants, eyebrows knitting together in overwhelming sensation, legs starting to shiver. “Fuckfuck…”
Sinister groaned at the sight.
He reaches down with his free hand, finding your dripping erection. He wraps his fingers around it roughly, stroking you in time with his thrusts. His thumb swipes over the sensitive head, smearing the leaking precum around.
“Cum for me. Don’t try to hold it in.”
With a deep, final thrust, he slams into you and grinds against your prostate. His hand squeezes your throbbing cock.
Your entire body seizes up, hole fluttering and clenching around him as you came—cum spurting from your aching dick in thin rivulets.
“S- Shit, Mark!” You practically yelp, looking up at him with the most pathetic eyes he’s ever seen. More pathetic than the many people he’s killed.
He lets your legs down and scoots back a few inches. “You good?”
“Uh, mhm.” You nod, slowly moving to sit up.
“Wait.”
“..What?”
“I want to keep fucking you.”
You blink slowly.
“..Please?” He tilts his head slightly.
You let out a heavy sigh and lay back down.
—
His fingers dig into your hips, pulling you back against him.
He admires the new view—your ass sticking up for him, your back arched, your body slightly trembling in anticipation.
He spits into his palm, rubbing the slickness over his still-hard cock before pressing the thick head against your hole.
“You’re still so tight,” he grunts, pushing forward just enough to make you gasp.
His free hand slides up your spine, gripping the back of your neck as he leans over you. “Your Mark is going to wonder why you’re stumbling around tomorrow.”
With a sharp thrust, he buries himself to the hilt, his hips slapping against your ass with an obscene plop plop plop.
His grip on your neck tightens, forcing you to arch deeper.
“F- Fuck—wait! It feels s-s’good!”
Sinister grins at your words, his thrusts becoming more brutal that your body starts to jolt forward with each time your skin meets with his.
He leans down, his teeth sinking into your shoulder. You let out a sharp whine in response.
Your fucked-out face pressed against a pillow covered in your drool. The pleasure is so deep that it borders on painful, your ass clenches around Sinister’s thrusts until the bed is soaked beneath you, your cum spurting and dribbling from your cock.
You draw out another moan.
He fucks you through your orgasm, pace faltering just a little as he fights his own release.
“Nngh..” He pulls out at the last second, jerking himself off until he spills across your ass and lower back in hot, heavy pulses, the mess sliding down your warm skin. A breathy curse slips from his mouth.
—
The scent of sex and sweat lingers in the air between you, a thick reminder of what just happened.
Sinister huffed as he laid back against pillows, watching as you hooked your bare leg over his hip, your chest almost fully on top of his.
You unconsciously sucked and nibbled at his neck as if it was second nature, your hand firmly holding his jaw on the other side.
He wrapped an arm around your waist and looked down at you with a satisfied, lazy grin, taking in the sight of his cum on the curve of your ass and the small of your back. His other hand treks down to trace through the mess, scooping some up with two fingers and pushing it back inside your fucked hole.
He’s not looking for another round just yet, but he likes the way you cling to him, the way you currently need him.
He shifts slightly, pressing his chest firmer against yours, enjoying the subtle contrast between your body and his. You murmured against the skin of neck and bit down harder when his fingers slipped inside.
“Yeah, that’s it..." he mumbles, his voice thick with post coital content. He can feel how sensitive you've become, the walls of your hole throbbing rhythmically around his fingers.
He slides a third finger in, stretching you wide again, his hand working with a steady kind of grace. He isn't exactly being gentle, but he isn't being brutal anymore either. It’s a slow, possessive kneading.
“Mmm..” you whine quietly.
And suddenly the door slowly opens—
Mark’s voice was soft, like he expected you to be asleep when he walked in.
“I know it’s late and I shouldn’t have broken in, but—”
He cut himself off at the sight of Sinister fingering you.
You were supposed to tell him as soon as you saw the guy. You were supposed to tell him if something was wrong. You were supposed to—
The one thing you weren’t supposed to do was hide the fact you were keeping Sinister at home and fucking him behind Mark’s back.
“..What the hell is this?” Mark stares in disbelief.
Sinister’s body stiffens under you, but he doesn't make an effort to cover you or move away in shame.
Instead, he slowly drags his fingers out of your slick, gaping hole with a wet sound that echoes in the sudden silence.
He looks the doorway, his eyes meeting his own—well, Mark’s wide, horrified gaze. Rather than looking guilty, he looks incredibly annoyed, his brows furrowing as if his intrusion has ruined a perfectly good moment.
“I asked a question.”
Mark’s hands clench into tight fists. His eyes flicker to your nude, sweaty body draped over Sinister’s, then back up to his irritated glare.
He gave Mark a cocky smirk. "What? You caught us post fuck." His voice was lacking even a hint of apology. “Don’t look so shocked, it was bound to happen with me and him.”
“You’re serious.”
It’s not even a question.
Everything that made sense five minutes ago—everything that felt intense, confusing, impossible to untangle—suddenly feels a lot more real under his gaze.
You push yourself up slightly, finally aware of how this looks.
Of what it is.
“…Mark, I—”
“You lied to me.” He cuts you off, sharp.
“I asked you,” he continues, taking a slow step closer. “More than once. If something was wrong. If he came back. And you just—what? Kept him here behind my back!?”
You don’t have an answer. An honest one at least.
His jaw tightens.
“How long has this been going on?”
You’re silent again.
And that’s your answer.
Mark lets out a sharp, disbelieving breath, running a hand through his hair like he’s trying to wake himself up from a bad dream. “This is messed up. This is really messed up.”
You nod hesitantly. “I know.”
“But you still did it.”
Not accusing.
Not even fully angry.
Just hurt.
“I didn’t know how to tell you..”
“You could’ve started with anything,” Mark snaps, the frustration finally coming through. “Instead of—this!”
Sinister sits up slightly, gaze fixed on Mark. “He wasn’t going to tell you.”
You tense up even more. “Stop it—“
Mark’s eyes snap to him. “Don’t speak for him.”
“I don’t have to,” Sinister replies. “He already made his choice.”
“Dude,” Mark says, looking back at you, “this is him. The guy who literally kidnapped you. The guy we’re supposed to be stopping. And you—”
He gestures helplessly, like he can’t even comprehend the thought.
Your chest tightens. “I- It’s.. not that simple.”
That stops him for a moment.
“No, no, you’re right! I get it, you’re choosing him.” Mark spat out sarcastically, disbelief bleeding into every word.
You flinch.
And that says everything it needs to.
Mark laughs once. “Wow.”
Sinister doesn’t look surprised at all. If anything, he looks satisfied, still completely unapologetic. “Told you.”
“I trusted you,” he says.
You swallow, your voice quieter now. “I know.”
“Did you?” Mark asks. “Because it really doesn’t feel like it.”
He takes a few small steps back. Like he needs distance before he says something worse.
“I need a minute,” he mutters, more to himself than either of you, slowly turning around. “We’re talking about this later.”
Then he’s gone.
And the room feels colder without him.
“He’ll come back,” Sinister says. “I would know.”
You’re caught between the person you’ve always known and the one who refuses to let you go.
But no matter what happens next, you’ve already crossed the line.
WARNING ➤ Pornographic content mdni! The links all have afab/feminine bodies except maskless mark, do not open in public.
Sinister Mark
Fucking you into the sofa
He loves choking you
bought this skirt just for this
Can’t run away anymore
Main! Mark Grayson
Literally like rabbits (LOADS)
Sock on the door
Virgin! Best friend!Mark who wanted to try something with you
He WANTS you carrying his kid
Full mask Mark
Breeding you full with his babies
Stroking him
Short cunnilingus vid
Got him all tied up
Mohawk Mark
Do y’all see that bulge?? Definitely the way he’d fuck you
How he’d eat his princess out
Normal au!Mohawk mark after taking a drive in his car with you. Couldn’t wait till you got home huh?
His own fleshlight
Viltrumite mark
The eye contacttt
After a long day of viltrum work
Morning sexxx!!
His maid looked hotter today, especially in that skimpy dress you wore.
Maskless mark(MLM)
Riding him in your dorm
You two both got horny while hanging out
Bottom! Mark
Seeing stars
Omni-Mark
loves tasting you
You were a brat in this universe too he had to handle it!
He loves the feeling of your gushy walls clenching around his fingers
You were so desperate to cum :(
Rex Sloan
You play way too much video games
Devouring your pussy
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ NOTE ➤ sorry guys I released this sooo late! The next part of the invincible p!links are going to be revolved around threesomes! If you guys want other p!links with different media I’ll be happy to do it. I want to do a jujutsu kaisen list but I want to see what y’all want first.
pairing : sinister! mark grayson x afab! florist reader.
synopsis : in which mark discovers your dirty little secret and decides to help you recreate it in real time.
(18+) warnings : kidnapping. nasty petty perv mark. allusions to cannibalism. mention of kinda gory violence. hair pulling. biting. mean name calling duh. giving each other head. p in v unprotected sex. creampies. marathon sex as in multiple orgasms. squirting. overstimulation . . . ++ just really nasty smut lol [ all consentual though! you two are freaks like in capital FREAKS ]
w.c : 5.5k.
notes : erm. yeah idk what possessed me to write this but lemme know what you think ! it's my first time writing smut this long and detailed [ my search history is crazy rn lol ]. let's just say this takes place in sinister mark's universe before he starts acting like a murder machine and all, so yeah :] again interactions are always appreciated, also do let me know if you think there's any warning i should add!
taglist : @vm4879bb-blog [ for the others, i wasn't sure if you guys would be okay being tagged in a fic like this so i didn't, let me know if you wanna be added tho :p ]
now on ao3 too!
he's going to kill something, or someone.
“oh yeah this? my boyfriend got it for me!”
he hears you talk about him, your lover, everyday and it annoys him deeply, the subtle furrow of his eyebrows barely noticeable but definitely there — sometimes a twitch of his eye, clear cracks in his carefully constructed facade give away his irritation if you choose to look closely.
“that reminds me, this one time he-”
he loves that pretty voice of yours — dare he say, he's grown fond of it, but he wants to shut you up forever whenever your boyfriend's name leaves your lips.
mark wants his name to be on your tongue — to be said with the same love and fondness that accompanies the name of your lover.
he tried, he really did, to give you signs — a squeeze of your hand there, a stare that can practically undress you on its own. but it seems you're oblivious to it all, or you're playing hard to get, either way his patience is running thin.
he'll get what he wants. just you wait.
every time he visits your little shop, it smells like flowers mixed with your perfume, that sweet and sugary scent with just a hint of citrus — he had asked you about the perfume you wore during his third visit, bought it the same day so he could finally get off because his imagination wasn't enough at this point, that kept him somewhat satisfied for a bit, but it wasn't nearly enough.
so when he stopped by next time, not even buying flowers to play along with whatever this is, he asked you, “where do you buy your clothes?”
you blink a couple times, clearly taken aback back by the sudden question but nonetheless, answer him — although you're not quite sure what to make of his disheveled hair and blown out pupils.
here he is, acting like a feral dog in heat, buying anything and everything that he can at the shops you frequent that resembles your clothes. and when he's back at home, he's spraying them with the perfume you always wear, rutting like a madman into the mattress as he mouths at a pink shirt — the same one you own and the one you were wearing when he first saw you, his drool leaking and staining the shirt as he holds it close to his mouth and closing his eyes, your scent surrounding him as he suckles on the chest area of the shirt, imagining it's your chest instead which has him groaning and cumming in his pants. that keeps him going for another week or so.
next thing he knows, he's acting on pure instinct and his desires — snapping photos of your panties underneath your little skirts like a fucking pervert, looking them up online so he could order them and make a mess of them. and he does, he stains each and everyone of those panties with his hot, thick cum and sometimes his spit when he imagines eating your pretty pussy out. his desires however continue to only grow.
he visits your little shop, like he always does, mentally preparing himself to not grab your throat and shove you down to make you shut up if he hears about your stupid boyfriend again.
he's being nice, can't you see? you should be thankful.
mark sees a new ring on your finger, the small silver zircon on it shining underneath the sunlight, he wonders if it's another gift from your boyfriend.
the thought leaves a bitter taste behind, regardless, he maintains his usual aloof facade, waiting for you to finish wrapping up his bouquet that he's going to end up tossing away the next day — just like the other flowers he's bought from you, they don't compare to you or your beauty, he wants you, a flower that won't rot away once he's done playing with it.
surprisingly, you don't mention the name of a certain man who he wants dead and buried six feet deep but he doesn't comment on it, in fact, a small barely imperceptible smile tugs at his lips.
he's just about to leave your little flower heaven when he hears something that makes his heart, uncharacteristically skip a beat.
“yeah i heard, i’m so sorry,” a voice, which he recognizes as your friend speaks softly, sympathetically.
“yeah, i don't know what i was thinking,” you start, “the signs were there, i just never thought he'd cheat like that,” you blink away the forming tears, “i trusted him.”
he stops dead in his tracks. that bastard cheated on you? he'll make him pay for being the reason you cry, although your tears do make his cock twitch in his pants. he'll lick them off of your face if you let him, god he really wants to.
should he simply keep your boyfriend to torture? he's sure he could lure you in with it, after all you are way too sweet for your own good.
he'll slowly tear each of his limbs apart, making sure the man hears his bones cracking and skin ripping, he'll make that fucker bleed to death. hell, he'd even record those painful, agonizing sounds that your ex would cry out, he's sure you'd cry more if he lets you hear them, maybe he just wants to see you cry — though he's sure you'll do that when you choke on his cock.
he snaps out of his little fantasy when the bell rings, indicating the opening of the door — another customer in, he sighs. he's losing it, he's not sure how much he can withstand not having you with him. but he's trying, for you.
for the sweetest girl who he can't wait to devour.
with his restraint hanging on by a thread, he steps out of your shop, his hands clenching and unclenching into fists by his sides. he needs to have you.
and that restraint finally snaps the next day when he discovers that his favorite florist is a fucking freak.
as you're tending to customers — clearly overwhelmed by their number as valentine’s day is approaching and flowers are definitely a safe option for your partner, his eyes stay locked on your laptop's screen that you had put on one of the small tables, lid only half closed, his eyes frantically scan over some of the words as he fully opens the screen, trying to stay out of your vision.
he quickly decides to go somewhere where there aren't so many people so he could take a look inside his sweet girl's sick mind. and with that he skillfully slips outside — he feels awfully excited, sneaking into the small bathroom of some shop.
and with each click of the cursor and another tab opening, he learns your most depraved, disgusting fantasies — the kind of porn you're into, your kinks and fetishes, the smut you read, all of it.
he even stumbles upon a small blog you run, oh now we're talking. each lewd image or post you've reblogged, followed by some words of “wish that was me rn”, has him hard. and these date back before your break up, meaning your boyfriend was definitely not keeping you satisfied and that has him grinning like a maniac.
oh he'll give you what you want.
he shamelessly palms himself when he finds your dairy entry with his name, rambling about how you feel guilty fantasizing about him ruining you. he would've cum right then and there if it weren't for the knocking on the door, “hey man, you mind hurrying it up?”
oh right he's still in a bathroom and not in you, like he should be.
he manages to sneak your laptop back in, thanking the absurd amount of customers mentally which helped him go in and out without raising suspicion.
he can't take it anymore, it's only been a couple hours since he's discovered your filthy secret and also saw you tearing up earlier because of that asshole who broke your heart.
he knows he's a hypocrite — he doesn't care for your dumb feelings and your big heart, okay well maybe that's a lie.
it is a lie.
and there are definitely these feelings that he refuses to acknowledge but still, the only reason why you should be crying is because of him fucking your brains out.
and so he waits, like a predator waiting to pounce — he holds his breath, watching as the sun sets and you lock up your shop, ready to go home and get some sleep but your plans are interrupted as a hand sneaks up behind you with some sort of cloth, muffling your panicked noises and before you know it you're knocked out.
it takes you hours to gain your consciousness back, eyes all heavy and mind disoriented you blink, once. then twice, your eyes widen and your mouth suddenly feels too dry. you're all tied up to a cold hard metal chair, you're only in your bra and panties, the rope is too tight, it's constricting and will definitely leave behind angry marks on your skin.
standing before you is one of your regular customers, mark. you stare at him, dumbfounded — eyes darting around to look for an escape okay to see a single door, desk and some chairs, panic settles in your bones, the coldness of the room does nothing to soothe your nerves.
you mindlessly try to shift around, a desperate attempt that leaves you wincing in pain — the friction of the thick black rope burning against your skin.
you try to speak, but nothing comes out, only a small choked sob — looking at him with those wide eyes which are brimming with tears that are oh so close to spilling and staining your cheeks, you look utterly helpless. the sight alone makes him excited.
he takes a deep breath, he wants to take his time with you, savor you. but goddamnit, if you keep looking at him like that he's sure he'll end up doing the opposite of that.
“open your mouth,” he commands, leaving no room for argument and you hate the way it sends a shiver down your spine and a throb to your core.
you hesitantly open your mouth, with his back turned to you — doing god knows what, you try screaming for help, it is a weak attempt that makes him chuckle, “no one's going to hear you sweetheart,” he coos mockingly, “i suggest you play along if you wish to live.”
he's not joking, his voice makes it clear.
so you reluctantly keep your mouth opened, hot tears falling down — lucky for you, he's being nice, at least for now because he brings a glass of water, holding your jaw and pouring the water in your mouth, some of it spills, the coldness of it on your bare skin making you shiver — but you swallow all he gives hastily, hoping it really is just water.
you sputter a bit of the water out onto him in surprise when he licks a stream of you tears away, his tongue hot against your skin and his spit leaving a shiny trail on your cheek. scared, that he'll hurt you because of what you've just done, you close your eyes shut as if the mere action would actually rewind back time and do something for you.
he laughs, loudly.
god, you're adorable. he could just eat you up.
“are you scared of me?” he asks, knowing damn well it's a pointless question but the genuine fear in your eyes has him reeling with joy and a desire only you, his sweetheart, can fulfill.
he puts the now empty glass of water back on a small table, “you know, you look real pretty like this,” he starts, dragging a chair to sit across you, “but i bet you'd look real pretty without anything on.”
you don't answer, you don't know how to. your eyes are still looking around the big room for any exits, any openings — he smiles at your desperation, it's cute really.
“or maybe you'd look even prettier with some blood on you hm?” his tone although amused is firm enough to leave you unsure if he's being serious or not, he drags a finger across your belly, “what if i make a cut right here?”
you immediately shake your head, trying to speak but he shuts you up by pinching one of your hard nipples through your bra, your protests die down into a small whimper — the sound has him grinning from ear to ear.
his eyes glint with something sinister that has you both scared and turned on. “i know you want this slut,” he holds your jaw harshly.
shame settles in your bones as you realize he's right.
“don't play coy sweet girl i saw all of it,” when you give him a confused look, he continues, “that little blog of yours, that disgusting shit you're into.”
oh fuck.
he sees the look of absolute horror mixed with embarrassment on your face and he tuts like he's disappointed, “dirty girl,” like he isn't the one who literally kidnapped you here.
“i don't know what you're talking about,” you both know you're lying, but sure he'll play along if that's what you want — he's feeling good today.
he reaches for your bag and rips it open — a clear display of who's still in charge here and how he definitely could kill you in an instant.
mark opens your laptop and asks you the password. you don't tell him at first as if that would change anything.
“i asked you a simple question,” he walks closer to you, grips your shoulder hard enough to make you regret your words, “or do i need to rip something else for you to answer me hm?” his grip tightens and you know he's not playing around, your voice shakes as you give him the four number pin, breathing heavily when he lets go of his hard bruising grip on your shoulder.
“good girl,” fuck him, he's doing this on purpose now! and the smug look on his face only confirms your suspicions.
he shows you the deepest, filthiest fantasies of yours that you keep tucked in your laptop, away from the world.
“what's wrong? don't pretend you're not dripping wet right now.”
again, he's not wrong.
“why are you doing this?” you ask him, still struggling a bit against the ropes that bind you.
“i wanna give you what you want,” he says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. he also wants to make you forget about your ex boyfriend, but he's not admitting that, jealousy is a weakness. and one that he suffers from immensely.
“you what-”
“drop the act,” he huffs, irritation visible in the way his eyebrows furrow. “just admit it already. you're a sick disgusting pervert who goes prancing around like she's not thinking of having her holes filled,” he tugs at your hair to keep your head up, his eyes dark with lust boring right into yours.
“are you crazy? you fucking kidnapped-”
he cuts you off again, “so you don't want this?”
silence.
“i’ll untie you right now and let you leave, just tell me you want to leave.”
silence, again.
you're not fooling anybody.
“yeah that's what i thought,” he let's go of your hair, “the safe word is-” he mutters your ex’s name and before you can even comment on the sheer absurdity of it all, he's ripping your panties away from your throbbing pussy, groaning at the sight of your glistening wet folds, all needy just for him.
he quickly pockets the ripped panties. pervert.
“look at this needy cunt, all for me hm?” he muses aloud, spreading your legs apart and breaking apart the ropes that tried to interfere with his ministrations. he shakily inhales when he sees your arousal slowly spill out — you're so fucking wet. his heated gaze leaving goosebumps on your skin.
he presses a chaste kiss to your folds, practically salivating as he breathes you in — he's gonna end up cumming in his pants, he's dreamt of this exact moment for so long.
he gathers a considerable amount of saliva in his mouth before spitting it onto your neglected cunt which twitches at the action, the sight is downright filthy and it makes you moan.
he wastes no time — getting on his knees, licking a strip up your slit before devouring your pussy like a man starved for days, shamelessly rutting into the chair you're sitting on at your taste. you taste so good, he wants to drown in it.
he's messy and loud, your hands are still tied behind your back so you can't push his head away and grip his hair when he attacks your clit with his tongue, sucking on it relentlessly. your hips lift up and buck into his face, your noises only getting louder as he fucks his tongue into your warm wet hole. he moans at the feeling of your thighs squeezing around his head and nearly suffocating him — your walls clenching around his tongue as you cry out his name in utter pleasure.
he shoves two of his thick fingers in without any warning — a surprised small squeal leaving your lips, while his tongue works in torturous circles around your sensitive bundle of nerves and eagerly licking between your folds. your pretty whimpers are music to his ears.
clearly overwhelmed with pleasure, you make a pathetic attempt to squirm away from his touch, which earns you a harsh smack to your thigh followed by a bite — his teeth dig into your flesh, leaving behind bruising marks that will sting for days, the line between pain and pleasure blurring.
a familiar feeling settles in your belly, it only builds up as he continues to go down on you. “mark! mark! i'm i’m-” you try warning him, but his fingers only speed up, he sucks harshly on your clit, holding your hips down when you cum — your body shaking, crying out his name oh so sweetly, he wants to hear it again and again, until the only word you know is his name.
he doesn't pull away from your cunt though, drinking up every bit of your release and arousal that you offer — holding you down and forcing you to submit to the relentless pleasure he's giving you, moaning into your pussy like he's having the best meal of his life.
he doesn't let you rest, inserting another finger in — easily massaging that sweet spot that you can't reach as easily as he does.
“oh fuck!” you whine out loud, when he keeps overstimulating your poor pussy, the squelching wet noises only increasing as he eats you out. he loves the way your brain is turning to mush, mindlessly babbling his name along with your sweet noises.
and when you cum again, he still doesn't stop.
you've lost count of how many orgasms you've had at this point, body too sensitive and shaking almost like a leaf.
with eyes brimming with seemingly never ending tears, vision practically blurry from the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body, it doesn't take him long to bring you to the edge again — except this time you end up squirting all over his pretty face, a surprised noise leaves your mouth as your body jolts hardly.
he finally pulls away. a small moan leaves your lips as you take in the sight in front of you.
mark grayson, on his knees, face all wet and drenched in your juices and his spit, breathing heavily — looking at you like he's going to eat you alive.
he's breathing really heavily, your dazed state makes it hard for you to comprehend things but you can clearly see the big wet spot on his pants. he came — from just eating you out.
“messy fucking slut,” he spanks your already oversensitive pussy making you hiss and cry out, body still quivering and twitching from that intense release.
he pushes your legs apart again, spreading your pussy open for him to see, he mutters a curse under his breath as he sees remnants of your release clinging onto the sensitive skin. he needs to get up before he ends up eating you out — as much as he would love to do that, he can't wait much longer, he needs to be buried inside that sweet cunt of yours and make you see stars.
he gets up from his knees. grabbing your hair, mark makes you lick his face clean, you taste yourself on his face and feel yourself getting worked up again. “good fucking girl, gonna put that mouth to better use, just you wait,” his hand reaches down to pinch your clit, laughing when you let out a small pained noise.
he hastily tears away your bra, the fabric discarded somewhere on the cold floor. he pinches and lightly grazes his nails against the perked up sensitive buds, making you squirm and let out small whimpers — it stings, but it also gets you insanely wet.
“look at that, pretty pussy’s practically begging to be fucked,” he bites down on your shoulder, a pained groan escapes your mouth and he bites harder, pulling away to admire the mark his teeth left.
you barely have time to look at the new addition of marks he's left on your body so far, before he's untying your hands behind your back, taking your wrists into his and pulling you down. you stumble a bit at the harsh tug — legs practically jelly from all those orgasms.
he draws you closer by your arms, manhandling you easily so you're sitting in between his open legs — the cold floor against your warm body.
“take it off,” he commands, gesturing to his pants. you hesitantly take them off, his ruined boxers coming into vision.
he's an impatient man, he always gets what he wants.
mark grabs a fistful of your hair and forces your head down onto his clothed — aching cock, making his impatience very clear.
“dumb bitch, can't do anything herself,” his tone demeaning, shutting up your protests by shoving his thumb in your mouth. he lifts his hips up to finally free himself of his boxers, his cock standing up — bobbing and leaking with pre. you gulp, eyes flitting back over to his face.
he lets out a small moan as you gather some of your saliva to spit on his hard cock, licking teasingly up his length over one of his prominent veins.
“don't be a fucking tease,” he takes ahold of your jaw harshly, tugging your tongue out before you can close your mouth — that he can't wait to be in and spits on your tongue, making you swallow it, before shoving you back a bit.
he pushes your hair out of your face so he could watch you better, the gesture so sweet and gentle — it makes you almost forget how mean he's been.
you slowly start pushing his length into your mouth, “thaaat's right, take it like the good slut you are,” his words die down into a groan as he feels your tongue swirl around his sensitive tip.
he's being nice for once, letting you take your time, your head bobs up and down as you suck him off while your hands jerk the rest of his cock that you can't fit in your mouth, tongue working against his sensitive spots.
but your mouth feels so good, so warm, so wet — his hips jerk up involuntarily, making you gag and tear up at the burn you feel at the back of your throat.
you look so pretty like this, those pretty lips wrapped around his cock, eyes glassy — don't blame him for wanting to ruin you when you look like that.
he pulls himself out of your mouth slightly — just to make sure he doesn't end up cumming too soon, before shoving himself back in, moaning in pleasure at the sensations he feels. you keep sucking, forcing all of him in your mouth, almost choking on his cock, some drool leaking out of the corners of your mouth, but it's worth it — worth those small whimpers and grunts he lets out, ones he can't hold back because of how good he feels right now, all because of you.
and when your hand reaches down to lightly toy with his balls, cupping them, he shivers and lets out a low moan of your name, without a proper warning his cock twitches in your mouth and he cums, hard — flooding your mouth with his thick salty release.
you try to swallow as much as you can but it's too much, however, mark being the fucking asshole he is, forces your head back down on his twitching cock and pinches your nose shut making it hard to breathe.
he breaks into a full blown laugh. oh how he loves the way your eyes water up — that panicked expression on your face as you struggle to breathe, some of his cum leaking out your pretty mouth, squirming and still trying to push him away. it only turns him on more, “it's rude to talk with your mouthful,” he quips, holding your gaze.
he lets you go finally and you pull him out of your mouth quickly, throat already feeling sore — you cough, wiping away his cum and your spit from your face with the back of your hand.
“you should've seen the look on your face,” he chuckles darkly — clearly pleased with himself, shifting closer to you to pin you down, wasting no time shoving his tongue in your mouth, messily kissing you. he lets you pull off his shirt, his hips buck a little when you start feeling him up.
he can taste himself on your tongue and god that only adds to his growing arousal.
he pulls away a little so he can start biting and sucking down your neck, his other hand sneaking down to tease your pussy — tracing circles onto your clit, he grinds against you, “gonna fucking ruin you for everyone else,” he bites your earlobe, tugging on it, his fingers moving to tease your other hole, “gonna make sure this fucking pussy is always full of me,” he slaps your pussy, making you cry out his name.
he quickly aligns himself with your wet entrance, taking a deep breath before nudging his tip in — shoving it all in one go, making you tremble in both pain and pleasure that'll build over time, “come on i know you can take it, isn't this what you wanted?” he coos mockingly, pressing sloppy wet kisses to your face, licking your face like some fucking dog, leaving your face covered in his spit.
as soon as your muscles relax the tiniest bit he's thrusting in and out of you like a madman — you yelp loudly, holding onto him for dear life, nails digging into his back.
“fuck- oh my god!”
the only sounds in the room are the fast wet sounds of him thrusting into you, your pussy squelching loudly at the action and your combined moans and whines.
your gummy walls clench around him harder with each thrust, his cock hitting that sweet spot so well it has you seeing stars, all you can think about is him.
“oh fuck,” he grunts into your ear when he feels you tighten around him, gripping him like a vice, “think she needs to be filled all nice and warm with my cum, don't you agree baby?” he accentuates each word with a harsh thrust, relishing the way your body writhes under him.
you nod mindlessly, desperate for that sweet release more than anything.
“aww what's wrong?” he leans down to suck on one of your nipples, pinching and toying with the other one — a choked out sob leaves your lips, you feel tears pooling in your eyes, you clench around him even harder, desperate to milk him for all he's worth. he lets out a whine when he sees the outline of his cock in your belly going in and out, fuck he's going to cum.
the movement his hips falter at the feeling of your pussy gripping him tightly, “oh fuck,” he breathes heavily, muscles tensing up a bit. he pulls out, moving you on your stomach, giving your ass an appreciative spank when you arch your back for him.
“guess she answered for you hm?”, he muses — pumping himself a few times before settling back into your warm needy cunt, “fucked too dumb to answer but can still arch your back like a needy whore? you're so fucking pathetic,” he licks over the opening of your little hole, an arm coming around to hold you in a headlock that has your vision blurry — in the best way possible. getting impatient, you try to fuck yourself back onto his length but he doesn't let you.
“nasty girl, i can feel you clenching around me” spank “you like it when i’m being mean hm?” spank “oh right you can't answer,” spank “not a thought behind those pretty eyes hm?” spank “don't worry, you don't have to think at all, you wouldn't have to, when i’m done with you.”
he starts rutting into you again, his filthy mouth doesn't stop as he dicks you down like his life depends on it. his arm around your neck — squeezing, leaving you dizzy as he pounds into you from behind like he's in heat, you've given up on trying to control your noises. he sneaks a hand down to pinch and toy with your clit — making your walls clench and toes curl and you cum for the nth time with almost a scream of his name, your body shakes vigorously as a result of your intense orgasm.
it doesn't take long for him to cum as well, especially with you screaming his name like that. with a few more sloppy thrusts he fills you up with his warm sticky white release, head thrown back as a soft whimper of your name is uttered out of his mouth.
breathing heavily, he makes sure to not waste a single drop — once again buries himself as deep as he can, admiring all the various marks that he has littered your skin with.
he pulls out after awhile, keeping your thighs apart with his rough calloused hands so he can see the sight of his cum mixed with yours leak out of your hole, shit, he's getting hard again.
he's honestly not sure if you can keep up — he doesn't want to end up hurting you- well you're his toy, nothing more than that he doesn't care if he hurts you, he really doesn't.
he wants to break you, ruin you. yeah, that's it.
his eyes definitely do not soften the slightest bit as he takes in your disheveled state, back still arched prettily for him, your ass red from all his spanking, skin battered with various marks, a proof of the intense passionate sex you two had.
but when you crane your head back, looking at him, “I can take it,” you're still trying to catch your breath, wincing a bit as you shift your body around, “give it to me mark,” you sound so sweet — swaying your hips side to side to make him give in and fill you up again.
you want him to break you.
and he does just that.
again and again, until he's sure your cunt remembers each vein and curve of his cock, stuffing your hole full to the brim each time.
so when your body finally gives out — almost passing out after another orgasm that he pulls out from you, lying on top of the only desk in the room as he drills into your cunt, he stops. pulling out and painting your tits with his release with a loud groan, his hair is sticking up in all different directions from the way you've kept pulling on it, body coated in a sheen layer of sweat — shaking as his chest heaves unevenly with each breath he takes just like yours.
he watches as your eyes close shut and you drift into a light slumber after a few minutes. his heart beating weirdly in an erratic manner, he chalks it up to the sex, although he has to admit he finds your sleepy face quite adorable, he may or may not want to hear that giggle again — the one you let out when he ended up cumming a little too fast when you praised him.
but he'll think about that when his face is not buried between your thighs, tongue sinking back into your folds — he can't get enough of you.
and with the way you whimper loudly, tugging on his hair oh so eagerly.
it seems like you can't get enough of him either.
so he'll indulge you to your heart’s content — maybe he'll save that video of him torturing your ex boyfriend and leaving him to die in a ditch for some other day.
warning: contains pornographic links to Invincible. not recommended for minors. links taken from X (formerly Twitter). reader with vagina
Mark Grayson
• He likes it when you're in charge.
• He pants heavily when you proboca him.
• Mark is impressed when you do that to his penis.
Mark Sinister
• He loves you silently and using accessories.
• Love will strengthen you.
• He would definitely do it.
Omni-Mark
• He likes to fuck you while you watch him.
• Suck her pussy like a champion.
• Sometimes, he lets you take charge.
Viltrumite Mark
• Want to fill your pussy with cum
• He does NOT like to use condoms.
• He wants to drive you crazy with his dick
Mohawk Mark
• He's definitely going to use his own fingers to widen her vagina and anus.
• You just have to accept it silently.
• Did I mention that he loves playing with his anus?
Masked Mark
• He likes to feel you with his fingers
• You can use it, he likes it.
• He loves to worship you.
Atomic Eve
• ✂️
• Maybe she likes sucking pussy too much.
• Play with her pussy too s2
Author's note: Hi everyone! How are you all doing? I hope you're well. Well folks, I'm in heat, my libido is through the roof, and I decided to bring you this slightly different chapter. I hope you enjoyed it.Do you want other characters? Let me know here and I'll take care of it 💓 See you next time!
how do you think the variants would be like in bed?
this mark is a complete freak. he doesn’t know the words ‘be gentle’ mean, because he wants to ensure that you’re pregnant with his baby. the harshest positions where he knows his cock will hit your cervix, he doesn’t even chase your pleasure but his own—mohawk, shiesty, sinister, target, headcap.
mark isn’t topping you, you’re topping him. he’ll lay back, whimper and moan as you take him entirely. he doesn’t fight back, his hands instinctively go to your hips as his eyes roll back. he can’t feel his legs afterwards, but he’s still able to give you aftercare even though he needs it more—main, full mask, lensless, shiesty.
complete bottom, he’s the one taking you. whether you’re using a strap or your own cock, he’s taking anything. mark doesn’t want to top you because he’s prone to premature ejaculations. he knows the second he’s inside or around you that he’s cumming on the spot, hence why he’d rather you take charge. mark wants you to ruin him, then pepper his face with soft kisses and aftercare—full mask, main.
sketched out an entire plan on how he’ll fuck you, he’s persist. mark gets slightly frustrated when you don’t follow the script he made in his head, and how he has to punish you, which was also unplanned. his main goal is to cum deeply inside you and get you pregnant, he wants to make sure his viltrumite bloodline continues on—omni, viltrum, sinister.
