#Sub Mark Grayson

[pickledollsheshe]

What was just supposed to be cuddling after mark got back from a fight, turned into you pressing your chest against his back and giving him what he would describe as the best hand job of his life.

Mark was so fucking exhausted. After a fight he came to you, bruised and in need of some serious TLC.

He crawled into your bed, after stripping off his tattered suit, leaving him in just his underwear (seance dog themed btw). He rested his head on your chest and let you hold him, kissing away all of the pain and unease the fight had caused him. It all seemed so sweet and light until, a few choice brushes of your hands over his skin left him feeling so so hard and uncomfortable in his boxers.

You were blissfully unaware of the need beginning to stir in him, until he made a quiet, whiny, almost desperate sounding noise.

His body tensed up when your hands stopped soothing over his bruised skin. Had he done something wrong? Did he make you uncomfortable? You must think he’s a pervert.

Thoughts were racing in his head, he was about to just get out of the bed and profusely apologize to you, until you ran your soft hand over this skin right under his belly button.

The closeness caused him to shudder and let out a small breath he didn’t even know he was holding. Your fingers traced over the band of his underwear, so so gently. He thought he could die right there, maybe from embarrassment- maybe from happiness.

He didn’t even hear you the first time you said his name, eventually snapping out of this little “trance” to squeak out a little “mhm?”.

You asked him, in that sweet voice of yours, the one you used when you talked to cat on the street, “you need me mark?”

He thought he could die, like actually die. He practically whimpered in response. Barely being able to form a “please..?” Before you started to sit up, helping his back to settle against your chest, him seated right between your thighs.

You kissed gently, almost experimentally over his neck - seeing if he was uncomfortable. And god, he couldn’t have been the furthest thing from it. He was in literal heaven, your soft lips squishing against his bruised, sensitive skin, hands already toying with his waistband.

He felt like he was going to explode in to a million little pieces in your arms. He almost wanted to, before your hand snaked its way over his clothed tip. You brushed over it, making him whine and you felt him twitch under your touch. He was already getting so hard and you knew he needed you but consent is key so you ask him “is this okay mark?” In a voice much quieter, attentive sounding, like it was just for him like he was the only one you were talking to, thinking of.

He obviously said yes, well more like his hips bucked up into the feather light touch, head falling back onto your shoulder and breathing out a little “please- need to- touch it?” He was practically begging you to touch him, to help him feel better, to make him forget about all that’d happened in the previous hours, the previous years. Make all the bad go away, and replace it with the feeling of you on his skin.

You whispered sweet praises in his ear, telling him how good of a person he was, how many people he’s saved, how much he’s loved by you and others, as you snaked your hand under his waistband, dipping in to his underwear and grabbing him in a loving, almost hug like grasp.

You moved your hand slow, like all of your thoughts and praises were pouring out of each movement - every stroke, every squeeze, writing another love note on his sensitive skin.

His thighs already began to shake, and little whines were pouring out of his lips, his heavy breathing filling your eardrums. Your hand moving at such a sweet pace - like you didn’t want it be over yet. He almost felt bad when he asked “off- take them off please?” He knew he’d cum faster if your hand was able to move fully, not trapped by the fabric of his underwear, but he needed to. He needed to cum, the pressure, combined with you - your words, and touch- and smell, it made him all the more needy, the sheer amount of love and kindness pouring out of every touch made him harder, it made it almost hurt.

When you finally pulled down the covers along with his underwear, hand smoothing over his tip to gather his pre, smearing it over his shaft as you pumped him - he felt his body almost give out. His face was leaned back and twisted almost uncomfortably into your neck, he was practically panting against your skin. His hips were jerking up, trying to chose between fucking up into your hand or staying still and letting you take control. You felt his head shift, turning your head just enough to see him looking a down at where your hand met him. His eyes were wet, tears threatening to fall down his pinky colored cheeks, lips apart, the only thing coming out were his needy sounds. They sounded almost frustrated as much as they did desperate.

You kept stroking him, hand moving slight faster now as you felt him twitching in your grasp, one of his hands gripped at the sheets beneath you, while the other went to grab at your wrist, not stopping you - almost warning you, he was about to cum, like he wanted you to know - like he knew you could pull your hand away and leave him there, but his gentle grip on you was pleading, almost begging you to not go, not leave him like the others, to let him cum, he wanted you to know he was yours and that he would let you do anything you wanted to him (at-least in that moment, he was about to nut he’s not thinking straight).

Your hand didn’t stop, or pull away, but continued its pace, not speeding up but gripping him firmer, like you were going to make him cum and he was going to sit there and take it. He didn’t object of course, hips stuttering into your hand as desperate moans and whines left his throat. He could barely get out a “gonna- fuck imgonnacum please-“ before shooting his load all over your still moving hand and his stomach. Your hand slowing down, helping him through it as he climaxed, his body weight weighing down on you - making the bed creak.

When you eventually pulled your hand off and wiped each other clean with your (favorite) T-shirt. You pulled the covers back over your sweaty body’s and shifted yourselves back down. He held onto you, like he never wanted you to go, you were the only person in his world right now and he looked at you just like it, like you had hung the stars and spun the planets yourself.

Even if he had to go to space tomorrow, or fight a lunatic before school - none of that mattered right now, because none of them were you.

(First actual fanfic/ idek what do we think guys!!)

[thegr33nc0met]

*drops this and runs*

Mark Grayson x healer!reader ♥︎

Warnings: NSFW, GN!reader/unspecified anatomy, reader’s a little mean, cumming in pants, canon typical violence

he was honestly the most insufferable person you had ever put up with.

yes, even more so than rex.

rex at least gave his all when he fought. he didn’t pull his punches or refuse to use his explosives because he felt it was ‘unfair.’ at least he had a valid reason for being in the space used as your office.

mark on the other hand…

you grumbled to yourself as you watched him on tv, clad in his new suit. you sighed in agitation as you watched the villain he was fighting fling him across the ground, leaving a meteor-like hole as he crashed.

great, another injury for you to fix. one he could have easily avoided if he had just taken this guy out.

but no. he has to pretend like he’s the good guy. it really drove you up the wall. everyone knew he was strong enough to finish half his fights in a fraction of the time it normally takes him, and he’d be finished without a scratch.

you flicked off the tv, too annoyed to watch anymore. you knew he’d just be here in a bit to have you heal up his cuts and bruises.

you’re a healer, having discovered your powers at a young age. well, healer was the nicest term you could have used. once cecil got whiff of you, he knew you were something he’d need to control if you were to ever give into those angry urges of yours. all organic matter was under your domain. he once saw you split a man in two, forcing his cells from one side to the other.

it’s not like you enjoyed it, though. you had always had what others referred to as a strong sense of justice, only using your powers to harm those who you thought really deserved it. that’s why cecil convinced you to be a healer at such a young age. you were 14 when you joined the teen team, but you never went out on the field. you simply patched the others up after a fight. you had seen the rise and fall of the team, along with the new guardians. now you were back at the old teen team compound, doing the same work you’d been doing the last few years.

yet despite being through multiple different groups of teams, mark had always been your number one client.

your nostrils flare as you recall the image of him getting injured on the tv. at first, you thought maybe you should feel bad for the guy. you never enjoyed seeing him get hurt. but after finding out what he was capable of and still seeing him hold back in the most dire of situations, it really boiled your blood.

the sound of the door to your office opening snapped you out of your thoughts. you audibly sighed as he limped inside, clutching his ribs as he struggled over to the medical gurney, wheezing as he took a seat without you having to instruct him to. a flash of worry trickled through you at the sight, but it was quickly replaced with anger.

mark knew you didn’t like him, or at least didn’t agree with his methods. he could hear your heart beat faster with anger whenever he showed up beaten and bloody.

you wordlessly step over to him, silently seething as he removed his mask with a grunt. his face was bloody and bruised, his left eye nearly swollen shut. you grimaced.

“happy to see me?” he managed to wheeze out, a shit eating grin on his face despite his pain.

“shut up if you want me to fix you,” you hissed, a hateful gleam in your eye. he was too out of it to tease much more, the pain in his face keeping him tamer than usual. you brought your hands up and loosely placed them on his neck, the only exposed bit of his skin you could reach. there was a low hum tugging somewhere in your body as you willed his cuts and bruises away. it took longer than it would any human, not used to his viltrumite dna quite yet to heal him as quickly as you could others despite doing this countless times. the silence stretched on, your eyes closed in focus. you could feel each and every one of his cells flexing and pulsating beneath your touch.

“just say it,” mark sighed, sensing the mean thoughts he knew you’d unleash on him one way or another.

“you’re a fucking idiot.” he grinned at that, a soft puff of air coming out through his nose in a lazy sort of laugh. “do you understand how many more people are gonna get hurt because of you?” you hiss.

“okay, ouch…” he mutters halfheartedly, wincing as a cut fuses back together.

“and look at you. it’s honestly pathetic,” you spit out, clenching your teeth. “it’s almost like you enjoy being in here.”

something swirls in his lower gut, his breath hitching at your words. it’s such a small noise that you don’t even notice. you keep trying to focus on getting the swelling around his eye to go down.

he knows once you’re start, you can’t stop though. you hurl insults at him as you fix his wounds, your fingers digging slightly into the flesh of his neck. he’s breathing heavier, but you blame it on the healing. you hardly even notice the flush on his face as you continue degrading him.

“…and if you had any self respect, you wouldn’t show your face in here,” you finished, the last of his wounds disappearing as if they were never even there to begin with. you finally take your hands off his neck and the loss of contact makes him whimper. the sound catches you off guard, your eyes flying open. it’s then you notice the flush on his cheeks, the way his pupils are so dilated they nearly swallow his iris’ whole, the heavier breathing.

“mark-“ you start, your eyes flicking over his body rapidly before they land on the very prominent bulge in his suit.

“fuck…” he sighs, a fresh wave of hot humiliation clogging his atoms.

“you need help fixing that as well?” before you can even think to regret the words, he’s nodding his head, a bit too eagerly.

you really shouldn’t be taking pity on him. you should keep berating him, tell him he’s sick for enjoying this so much. but instead, you spread his thighs and step between them, closer than before. his hands are on your hips in an instant, a needy noise leaving his mouth.

“stay still,” you tell him. he nods, watching as you hesitantly bring your hand to the lump in his suit.

“fuck…” he breathes out once more, his hips twitching to meet your touch.

“i said stay still,” you say more firmly than before, gripping the outline of his cock tighter. he whines softly, nodding his head as he brings a hand up to quiet himself.

you swallow nervously. the sight of him like this is really doing something to you. you hadn’t really ever considered yourself as super powerful before, but seeing one of the strongest men on the planet crumbling in on himself all because your hand is cupping his crotch through his suit…

it makes you feel high.

maybe this is why he always let himself get beat down. maybe he enjoyed it just a little too much. maybe he liked being weak.

the thought made you pity him. you moved your hand faster against his cock, making him mewl and squirm on the cot. you bring your other hand to the back of his head, encouraging him to rest his forehead on your shoulder. he obediently does so, fighting his urge to buck up into your hand.

you can’t bring yourself to speak up, only the sounds of his whimpers and the creaking of the medical cot filling your office. you can feel the wet patch on the crotch of his suit against your hand now. he’s so painfully hard beneath the damp fabric.

“oh god, oh fuck…” mark grunts, his eyes rolling back. “gonna cum, fuck!” he whines.

“yeah?” you whisper, your voice wavering. “you’re doing so good for me,” you tell him, almost gently.

oh, that really does it. the slightest bit of praise. his noises get louder, his body bucks and writhes uncontrollably as it builds up.

“oh! f-fuck!” he grunts before letting out a series of high pitched moans and whimpers. you feel him tense and tremble against you, feeling the fabric getting wetter beneath your hand as he explodes in his suit. he pants softly as you slow your hand, letting him come down from his high. you stand there for a moment, petting the back of his head like one might a cat before slowly disentangling yourself from him.

he watches you dazedly as you take a step back, his eyes still glossed over with lust. undeniably, the way he looks at you makes you flustered. it’s too intense. you give a light smack to his thigh, making him flinch (knowing damn well it didn’t hurt).

“welp, you’re all healed up, champ,” you tell him, doing your damn best to avoid looking at those eyes that’ll just suck you right in if you let them. “get outta here…” you say, thumbing to the door as you step to the side. something flickers across his face - a pout, almost - before he neutralizes his features and sighs. he turns his head to look at you, narrowing his eyes before a smirk spreads across his lips and he stands.

“see you tomorrow?” he asks, though you know it’s not a question. you just hum in response, watching the way his hips move as he walks towards the door, waddling slightly from the mess in his suit.

what the fuck just happened?

this was heavily inspired by @swtheartz healer stories! go check out his blog♥︎

[brawberryz]

BERRYZZ!! MAKE A SUB BATBOYS × FEM! DOM READER AND MY SOUL IS YOURS

I Need You

Batboys × Dom! Reader

Note: English is not my first language, sorry if there is any translation error / M.list

Tw: handjob, overstimulation, begging, orgasm denial, anal sex, pegging, dirty talk, nipple play

Dick Grayson ♥︎

This must have been his fourth or third orgasm, his seed was spread all over his torso and the sheets

His body could barely hold itself up with his arms, you knew he was tired but his moans and gasps were too addictive to listen to

"P-Please...it's too much, t-too much-Ah! Ngh..."

You ignored his pleas as you continued to jerk off his red and aching cock

You had been overstimulating him for over 2 hours or maybe more, you stopped paying attention to the time passing

"I'm sure you can hold on a little longer, pretty boy"

You teased him as you squeezed his cock making him let out a gasp

"I-I can't!"

You could only let out a small laugh at the sight of his patetic and deplorable state

You began to move your hand faster and you could see how Dick's hips rose chasing his own orgasm

"So greedy"

You felt his cock throbbing and shaking, your fingers caressing the veins that stood out

You knew he was about to cum so you decided to try something new

You leaned forward and began to play with one of his nipples causing a loud moan to come out of Dick's lips

"Who knew you were such a slut, grayson"

You said in an ironic tone as you pumped his cock faster

You left small marks and hickeys on his chest, you felt his body writhe and beg you not to stop

"S-shit I'm cumming- don't stop d-don't stop please Please"

You could only caress his cheek while you said sweet words in his ear

You could feel something thick and hot begin to spill over your hand, a smile of victory formed on your face when you saw Dick's state

Messy hair, sweaty body and his body shaking

You had done a great job

"You did very well darling, but you made a big mess, you better start cleaning up now"

You said as you grabbed a small piece of his seed in your fingers and put them in his mouth

En could only lick your fingers making a face at the salty taste of his semen

Jason Todd ♥︎

You felt your body tremble as you pushed your hips into Jason's body, who was clinging to you, his big arms around your back trapping you completely as he buried his face in your sensitive neck

He was moaning too much from the abuse his prostate was taking from the plastic cock

You grabbed his hips tightly, stopping after one thrust as you heard him moan directly against your ear

You shuddered and gasped the moment he stopped brushing his hoarse voice against your ear and then rested in the curve of your neck

You regulated your breathing as you moved slowly, you knew that at any moment you would lose your composure if he continued like that

Especially if he continued moaning so exquisitely right in your ear

Jason wasn't usually a loud person in bed but, it was his first time trying pegging and it seemed like he really liked it, without realizing it you had stopped

You were now clinging to the body below you

Still in ecstasy, Jason pulled his face from your neck to look at you confused by your state

At the beginning of the night you were excited to try this but now it seemed like you were about to have a seizure

"(Name)?"

He asked as he looked at you and placed himself in a more comfortable position for the two of you

"Just a minute please" You said softly "just one..."

After a while you opened your eyes and saw how pretty your boyfriend looked below you, disheveled hair, his toned body covered in sweat and a small trail of saliva falling down his cheek

"Sorry Jason, it's just that..." you swallowed trying to regain your composure "your moans are... like"

"Does it turn you on when I moan out loud and stuff?"

I asked in an ironic tone while looking at you

Your cheeks and ears turned red when you heard Jason mention that little secret that you were hiding for months and that you hadn't planned to tell him, or well not at this moment

You looked away pretending that you didn't feel Jason's gaze, you let out a small nervous laugh before speaking

"Yeah" you mentioned embarrassed "it's a strange fetish I know"

Jason looked at you strangely, he didn't think that was strange, he felt strangely pleased with the idea that his moans were enough to make you feel good

Making his head fill with ideas that he could try after knowing about this strange but curious fetish of yours

"I don't think it's strange" He said before making you approach his chest, a smile formed on his lips before speaking "why don't you make me scream?"

At first you hadn't said anything, your face only turned redder, making Jason think he had pushed you too hard

But he was greatly surprised when you quickly stood up and started thrusting into him again

But this time your thrusts were harder and merciless

"I'll make sure of that"

You continued with your thrusts, not giving him enough time to get used to it

He didn't hold back any moans at that moment, you continued hitting that sweet spot and you could only hear Jason's moans intensifying the closer he got to his orgasm

With this pace you two were going to keep going like this for a long time

And you didn't care at all

Tim Drake ♥︎

"Please," Tim gasped as he lifted his hips, a pathetic moan leaving his lips as you lightly touched his swollen, needy cock.

"What do you want, Tim?"

You said cynically as you looked at him as he begged for you to touch him

"I-I want"

He moaned without being able to articulate his words well, how pathetic

"You want Tim? Use your words"

You teased subtly as you gave him a sweet smile as if you weren't torturing him without touching him

"I want...I-I want you to fuck me, please Just...just do it"

He was a mess, you had fulfilled what you wanted

The Tim who was always focused and serious was now lying on your bed begging for him to put his cock in your tight pussy

"If that's what you want, I'll do it"

You said caressing his blushed cheek

You took off your panties and positioned yourself on top of his lap

You rubbed his cock against your clit and your entrance, you wanted to make him suffer a little before giving him what he wanted

When he was about to protest again you stuck His entire length inside you, drawing out a beautiful moan from he

"Shit...t-it's so tight- Ah!"

You didn't even let him continue, you started moving your hips up and down quickly

His moans only made your desire to destroy him grow more

He was making a lot of noise and you didn't want your neighbors to be bothering you tomorrow, so you decided to put two of your fingers in his mouth to shut him up

Causing him to gag a little, but he still didn't stop and kept sucking your fingers

You looked lustfully at Tim's state, god he looked so pretty like this

You completely ruined Tim Drake

He never looked so enthusiastic about having sex, you rarely got to have a moment alone because he was Red Robin

But now you had managed to have him all to yourself, like this

Now just look at him, behaving like a cheap slut just for you to fuck him

This was just the beginning of what you had planned to do with him

You weren't going to stop until you turned Tim into a slut for you you

Your patience was short and you couldn't wait to do what you wanted the next night

So why didn't you do it now?

I felt like a fucking slut while writing this

This is my first time writing smut, sorry if it looks like shit, If you have any smut requests I'll be happy to do them (better if it's from sub character × dom! reader :33)

[restinslices]

So I'm still not seeing how anybody thinks Mark Grayson is a dom

I mean this in the most respectful way possible - Mark is whiney as fuck.

Once again, I say this with love. I love Mark real bad, but I've seen this mf whine and cry too damn much to think he's telling anybody what to do during sex. His ass was shaking in his boots when he asked Eve out. I'm not taking him serious.

Maybe alternate versions of him, but the Mark we watch all the time? No.

Mark is a crybaby ass sub.

I think at first he'd be very shy. He feels awkward asking for things and being so vulnerable with you, but after some time, he's on board.

Mark is the type to look up at you with the softest eyes as he's eating you out/sucking you off then legit tear up if you don't cum in his mouth.

Mark is the type to buy extra suits because he likes you fucking him in them and he keeps getting them dirty.

Mark is the type to somehow forget how strong he is when you two are being intimate. For example, you have his back to your chest as you're jerking him off, overstimulating him. Instead of just pulling your hand off, which he definitely could do, he just whines and sobs. His head is thrown back, eyes closed, breathing uneven. "No more" he'd say, "it's too much!" yet he'd keep bucking his hips upwards.

He loves the feeling of you controlling him. He loves just being Mark Grayson and not Invincible. He loves that he has a safe space and he's not expected to be this big and strong superhero.

He loves being praised. Tell him how good he's doing, that you're proud of him when he takes a punishment well, tell him how happy he makes you and that he's the most beautiful person you've ever seen. Kiss his lips softly as you fist his cock or abuse his hole. Let him moan as loud as he wants without making him feel ashamed for it.

And once he moves out his mom's place and y'all live together? On the counter, the couch, the floor, the bed, the table, the bath-.

In conclusion, Sub!Mark is the only answer.

I'm RestInSlices, and I approve this message.

[vinnyvamppp]

Uhm reader riding Mark to tears pls?

One More Moan, Baby

Note: ANOTHER ONE????? You guys really like that submissive man. Okay, so since the first one was straight HORNINESS. We're going with something a little emotionally softer (also, because that specific route is getting a little saturated). This is a sensual, slow ride, my friend. I assume that since we asked for this again, he wasn't submissive and crying enough last time. So here we go.

Synopsis: Mark Grayson finally lets you take care of him—in more ways than one. What starts as emotional vulnerability after a tough fight spirals into the kind of intimacy he’s never known when you ride him with patience and love, it pushes him past the edge, into tears, into confession, and into something real.

Warnings:

Smut, Penetrative Sex, Cowgirl Position, Overstimulation, Mild Dom!Reader, Praise Kink, Pussy Drunk Mark, Love Confessions, Slight Sadistic Teasing, No Contraception, CreamPie, Crying... so much crying, Post-nut Tenderness. WC: 2.4k

Sub!Mark Grayson x Fem!Dom!Reader

You don’t ask questions when he shows up at your door. Instead, you just open it—wordlessly, and let him in. Mark steps over the threshold like he’s unsure he deserves to. His knuckles are scraped, his lip split. His suit is torn, blood soaking through at the shoulder, but it’s not the worst you’ve seen. Not by far. What is new is the silence. No joking. No deflection. No tight smile with a “You should see the other guy.”

Just… an awkward silence and an expression carved from sorrow. Mark stands in your doorway like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. His shoulders are slumped, rising as he breathes too shallowly for someone who just saved the world again. You guide him into the bathroom and sit him on the closed toilet lid. The light is warm, humming faintly above you. You grab the first aid kit. His costume hits the tile with a heavy thud, his disrobed form sitting before you. You kneel in front of him and start with the obvious—split lip, shallow gash on his brow, scraped cheekbone.

Up close, he’s shaking, just barely, but enough that you notice. You dab antiseptic on the cut above his brow, and he flinches. His hand shoots out, reflexive, and clasps yours. Not hard, nor is he pushing you away. Just... holding on. His fingers curl around yours, and your breath catches as you glance up at him. His eyes are fixed on your face. Wide, puppy-eyed, wet at the edges. “Sorry,” he says, his voice low with a slight crack. “Didn’t mean to—” You cut in before he could finish. “Don’t apologize.”

You don’t pull away; rather, gently squeeze back. From your periphery, you notice he stares at your joined hands like they’re something sacred. You keep cleaning him—quieter now. His thumb brushes against yours before tracing over each knuckle. When you lean in to get the last bit of blood off his cheek, he tilts his head slightly, subtly leaning into you.

You can feel the heat of his breath against your lips. That’s when he speaks, just barely above a whisper, “You always do this.” You pause, brows furrowing slightly. “Do what?” A beat passes, then two. “Take care of me. Like I’m yours.”

The words hit you low in the stomach. You meet his gaze, and he's not teasing or testing you like usual. His eyes are glassy, brow furrowed—like he’s afraid of your answer. “Maybe I thought you’d never be ready to hear that you are,” you say. He exhales like the air’s been punched from his lungs. “If I kiss you,” he says, voice breaking, “I won’t be able to pretend anymore.”

You step between his knees and take his face in your hands, gently skimming your thumbs over the line of his jaw. “Then don’t.”

The kiss is slow. Not hesitant, but careful. Like both of you are tasting something you’ve been starved for. He kisses you like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he blinks. Like every second he’s not touching you is one he can’t afford. You feel his hands on your waist, then your back, sliding up like he’s trying to memorize the shape of you through his trembling fingers. And when your tongue brushes his, he makes a sound deep in his throat—almost a sob. His fingers dig into your hips; only then does he stop shaking.

He breaks the kiss just long enough to rest his forehead against yours. “I don’t want to…” He stutters, “I don’t want to just fuck you,” he whispers, ragged and nervous. “I know.” He swallows thickly. “I want everything.” His words brought forth every ounce of restraint you had. Your fingers gently clasped his, trembling. To him, it might’ve been you carrying the burden of his sadness. To you, it was restraint, need, and the overwhelming sense of greed you felt. “Then take it, Grayson.” You guide him to the bed with a gentleness that makes his breath hitch. He sits at the edge, looking up at you like you hung the stars. His chest rises and falls in shaky, shallow breaths. You crawl into his lap slowly, straddling him. You feel the heat of him; he’s coiled tight and buzzing, relinquishing the futile hold he’s had over his fate and into your comfort. Your hands trace over his shoulders, down his arms, and back up to his jaw. “You okay?” you ask, voice low, thumb brushing over his bottom lip. Mark nods once, but it’s a lie. “No,” he breathes. “Not even close.” You kiss him again—slower this time. He opens under you like a flower in sunlight, helpless to resist. You feel his fingers dig into your hips, not hard, just desperate. You roll your hips once, teasing friction through your clothes, and he shudders. “Fuck—” His head falls forward. “You feel… even like this, it’s too much.”

“We haven’t even started yet.” You whisper it in his ear, and he makes a sound—half gasp, half moan. His cock is hard beneath you already, twitching against his boxers. He’s straining, flushed, a little out of breath—and you haven’t even touched him properly yet. You lean back just enough to peel off your shirt, then his, and then kiss down his throat and his chest. His hands tremble where they rest on your thighs. You guide one to your breast, covering it with your own.

“Touch me, baby. I want you to.”

He does, and reverently so. His calloused fingers caress down the curved expanse of flesh, eyes following every inch. His index finger and thumb gently clamp around the hardened bud, gooseflesh arising on your skin as he rolls and pinches it between his digits. Every shiver, jump, and jolt vibrates through his body. It's explorative, his hands traveling wherever his eyes would allow as deep, pink blotches creep across his ears and neck. He’s in utter awe. And just as his rough palms reach your hips, you grind your hips down, just enough to make him gasp. You lean in close again, lips brushing his ear. “I’m gonna ride you, Mark.” He lets out a choked, “God.” Your fingers trail down his chest and the ripple of his abs, watching each muscle jump as he lets out a tight-lipped groan. “Slow and deep,” you murmur. “So you can feel every second of it.” His hips twitch up involuntarily. You press him down. “Stay still.” He nods vehemently. “I—I’ll try.”

You both get rid of what’s left between you, clothes tossed to the side in a tangle. When you reach down and wrap your hand around him, he moans like he’s dying. Like, it’s too good. He’s already hard by the time your hand wraps around him—thick, hot, and heavy, twitching in your grip like he’s barely holding himself back. Pre-cum beads at his tip, a silken slickness that leaks down its length with each stroke, weeping across your fingers with a wet squelch. His dick was heaving, twitching. “You’re so sensitive,” you whisper. “Is it always like this for you?”

“Not—not like this.” His voice breaks. “Only with you.” You stroke him slowly, your palm gliding over flushed skin, feeling him twitch in your grip. His eyes are glazed already, lips parted, and chest heaving. When you line him up and sink down—inch by inch—his breath catches in his throat like he’s drowning in you. His stomach is carved as he holds his breath, his eyes roll into his skull, and his jaw slacks.

“F-fuck,” he whimpers. “You’re so—warm—tight—holy shit—” You bottom out with a slow grind of your hips. He lets out a shaking exhale that sounds suspiciously close to a sob. You pause, fingers gently placed against his cheek. “Too much?” He shakes his head frantically. “No—no, please—don’t stop—I just—I can’t—fuck, I can’t believe this is real.” He fills you like nothing ever has—thick, hot, and stretching you just enough to make your eyes flutter. You can feel every ridge of him, every twitch, every slow drag of his cock as you lift your hips and sink back down. He’s flushed to the root, deep enough to make you swear you can feel him in your throat. And he’s pulsing, subtle but steady, like his body’s already fighting not to give in. Like being inside you is dragging him closer and closer to the edge with every squeeze of your cunt around him.

You rock your hips, setting a steady rhythm. His hands grip your thighs like he’s trying to keep from floating away. He’s on cloud nine. His eyes flutter open, then closed, then open again like he’s afraid to miss even a second of this. “Mark,” you whisper, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “You feel so good.” You’re so wet it’s obscene—slick and tight, gripping him like you were made for this. Every time you slide down, you can feel him twitch inside you, the thick press of him dragging against your walls. You flutter around him every time he whimpers, your body reacting to his unraveling, tightening, and coaxing. It’s not just sex, no, it’s possession. Your cunt is holding him like a vice, and you know he’s never felt anything like this before.

He moans—a high-pitched and desperate thing. His hands slide up to your waist, then back down, like he doesn’t know where to hold on. Each roll of your hips sends sparks shooting up his spine. You clench around him just a little, and he gasps, one hand flying up to cover his mouth like he’s ashamed of the sound.

“Don’t hide from me,” you say, catching his wrist. You pull his hand away. “I want to hear you.” The first tear rolls down his cheek almost silently—but it shatters him. His body shudders beneath you, breath hitching, muscles tightening like the emotion is crawling out of his skin. He clings to you harder, arms wrapping around your waist like he’s trying to crawl inside you, to disappear into the feeling. You’re still riding him, so slow and utterly relentless, and it’s too much, the pleasure, the intimacy, the fucking love. His tears aren’t silent anymore, his wet lashes bat against your skin. Soft, choked cries spill from his throat, muffled by the crook of your neck. And with every sob, his cock twitches inside you—each shuddering breath making him throb, precum slicking your walls, his body pushing toward orgasm without permission. You feel him jerk inside you again, and that’s when he realizes. You like it.

You’re clenching around him—tighter, needier—because he’s crying. Because he’s this vulnerable. That realization pulls another whimper out of him, cracked and high and fucking broken. “You—oh, fuck—you like seeing me like this,” he gasps, his voice hitching on another sob. “You—fuck—you’re so tight—I can’t—”

“You’re beautiful like this,” you whisper, kissing his cheek, tasting the salt. “So good for me. So full.” Every sob makes his cock jerk helplessly, every pulse dragging him closer to the edge. He’s not fucking you anymore; you’re fucking him, milking his orgasm out of him with nothing but love and pressure and patience. “Please,” he gasps. “Don’t stop—don’t stop—please, I need it—I need you.” You ride him deeper, grinding your hips down with a swivel. His hands tremble on your waist. His moans break into little breathless gasps and sobs. “You feel so good,” he rasps. “It’s too much—I don’t know how to—how to handle it—” His head falls against the pillow. “You don’t have to. Just feel it. I’ve got you.”

He lets out a strangled sound and starts to cry in earnest. Not ugly sobbing—just helpless, overwhelmed tears sliding down his cheeks as his body shudders beneath you. Every thrust, every roll of your hips pushes him deeper into that place he’s never let himself go. “You like being inside me like this, baby?” you whisper, your voice like silk against his ear. “So deep, so fucking full?” He moans, jaw tightening. “Yes—yes, I—God—don’t stop.” You clench around him, and his hips stutter up involuntarily. “You’re so sensitive,” you murmur, grinding down slow and mean. “You’re gonna come just from this, aren’t you?” His toes begin curling behind you. “I—I can’t—please—” He’s babbling now, breath hitching, voice thick with need. “You feel too good—I can’t—I’m gonna—”

“I love you,” he gasps. “I love you, I love you—”

“I know,” you whisper. “I know. Let it out, baby. Let me have it.”

You ride him until he’s clinging to you like a lifeline, while his whole body tenses right there, right on the edge, ruined and perfect. His orgasm rips through him like a live wire, every nerve lit, and every muscle locked. He groans, his voice cracking into your skin, and you feel his cock twitch violently inside you, spilling deep and thick and hot. His arms are wrapped around you like a vice. His whole body tenses and shakes—like the pleasure is dragging the tears out of him, one pulse at a time. His hips jerked forward with enough force that your spine popped.

But he doesn’t stop. And neither do you as you grin sweetly at his trembling, sweaty figure. “Mark—” you whisper, breath catching as you shift your hips.

He moves, first with a subtle thrust. Then another shallow and hesitant one. He only grew bolder. He’s still hard—barely softening—but your warmth, your slick, the feeling of your walls gripping him, dragging him back in, makes his cock twitch and thicken all over again. “Can’t,” he breathes. “You feel too good—I can’t stop—I don’t want to—” he gasped, voice hoarse and soaked with adoration. He sobbed again when you clenched down, like your pussy was pulling the orgasm from his body one pulse at a time.

He sits up, bringing you with him, your legs wrapped tight around his waist. His arms stay locked around you, pulling you down onto him with every shaky grind of his hips. You can feel his heart pounding against your chest. He buries his face in your neck and moans—not pretty or composed, but broken, almost grateful. “You’re still so tight,” he repeats through pants. “So fucking wet. God—you’re perfect.”

You thread your fingers through his sweat-damp curls and tug gently, and the sound he makes is obscene—a cracked whimper that dissolves into a groan as his hips jerk up, thrusting into you again, deeper this time. Every ridge kissed him, your puffy lips hugged him, and when his dick wept, your pussy wept harder. “Fuck—baby—every time you touch me—” He shudders again. “Feels like I’m gonna come all over again.”

You rock your hips with his, and it’s filthy—his cock dragging through your soaked, swollen heat, the mess between you only adding to the slick slide. His hands slide down to your ass, squeezing like he needed something to hold onto while he fucked himself deeper into you, spreading you wider so he can thrust up harder. He groans against your skin, open-mouthed kisses dragging across your throat, his voice rasping. “Can’t stop. I don’t wanna stop. You feel too good—I need to feel you come on me, please—please let me give it to you.” He babbled. And he was right all along. He wasn’t fucking you. He was giving himself over to you. You watched his face as your pussy fluttered around him—how his brows drew together, mouth falling open—a tear rolling down his cheek. The sound he made wasn’t a moan or a sob, it was something in between. You clenched again, just to feel him cry out. “You’re so easy, baby,” you whispered. “Just a little squeeze and you’re coming undone.” He didn’t want to admit it, but it was true. His tongue slithered lower and laved over your nipple like he couldn’t get enough; his actions were pure greed. The bud peaked against the cold drag of his spit, and the tiny tremor that rolled through him at your moan made your stomach clench. Every pummel forward made his dick slick with cum, his own arousal dripping down his balls. He was so easy to affect, so open, so ruined by your body it was almost funny if it wasn’t so hot. Your fingers slipped into his hair, nails scratching gently against his scalp. Every time you did it, he moaned a soft, boyish noise—completely unguarded. His hips stuttered, and his body trembled beneath you. You cradled his head against your chest, letting him fuck up into you like a man possessed.

You cup his face, tilting it up. His eyes are glassy, wet-lashed, pupils blown. He looks desperate, high off of you. His mouth finds yours with wet, needy kisses that drag moans from your chest. His cock is hitting deeper like this, his angle perfect, and the way he’s gripping your ass, pulling you down into each thrust like he’s guiding you exactly where he wants you—it’s too much. “Mark—baby—I’m close,” you gasp. “Right there, fuck, don’t stop—”

“I won’t,” he says, frantic now. “I won’t—I’ll stay right here—I’ve got you—I want you to come, please—I want to feel it—” You grind down against him, clenching around him hard enough to make him wail. His hips stutter, overstimulated, but he doesn’t let up. You ride that line together, gasping, panting, lost in each other, and when your orgasm hits it’s in hot flashes.

Your whole body locks up, cunt spasming around him in tight, wet pulses. You nearly shout, your voice dying as you grip his hair with one hand and his shoulder with the other, as pleasure floods through you like a wave crashing against a dam. Your walls clamped around him so hard he yelped. He kept fucking you through it, crying, shaking, sobbing into your neck as you came, his body begging for release again even as yours tried to wring him dry.

He feels it, and he moans like it’s happening to him. His cock throbs again inside you—another ripple—and he sobs into your skin, whispering your name over and over like a mantra. “You’re so good,” he gasps. “You’re so perfect—I love you—I love you—I love you—”

It’s leaking out of you—his cum, creamy and warm, mixing with your slick as it drips down his dick and stains your walls, thighs, and even the sheets below. Its practically shimmering, a thick sheen coats his length and he stutters like he's in pain. ‘I’m still inside you,’ he whispers, dazed. He couldn't bear to pull out, so he kept it there.

Mark is quiet in the aftermath, and not from discomfort, but from awe. You lie tangled together on your bed, skin flushed and still sticky with sweat and cum. His arms are wrapped tightly around your waist, face tucked against your chest like he’s never felt this safe before. Your fingers rake gently through his damp strands, and with each slow breath, he seems to melt deeper into you.

“You okay?” you whisper against his hair. He nods, just barely. “I think I just met God,” he says, voice thick, hoarse, and exhausted. You laugh quietly to yourself as he looks up at you then, eyes still red-rimmed and glassy but glowing with affection. “Hey,” he says. “That wasn’t just... that wasn’t just sex, right?”

“Mark,” you murmur, brushing his hair back. “You cried in my arms while I rode you into another dimension. I think we passed casual like… thirty orgasms ago.” His laugh is shy, almost disbelieving, his gaze averting yours momentarily. “I meant what I said,” he adds, softer now. “I love you.”

You press a kiss to his temple. “I love you too. I’ve always loved you.” There’s a pause before you hear a voice, muffled against your skin. “So, uh... you think we can, like... keep doing this?” You stare at him, frowning before getting an answer. “The sex or the relationship?” His smile etches itself into your flesh. “...Both?” Your heart fluttered at his words. “Only if you cry again next time.” His groan is loud and full of mock betrayal—you’re both laughing before you kiss again, this time full of promise and with fewer tears.

A/N: This is what I get for procrastinating. LMFAO, goodnight guys. I’ll edit the color scheme tmrw. 😭

MasterList ོ༘₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚

[fungifaggot]

Sub!Mark Grayson Smut ABC's

A/n: Tried to keep it gender neutral, but it’s heavily implied to be male reader (reader has dick/strap)

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*: ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Mark is adamant on doing most of the aftercare, even if he bottoms

"it's just easier if I do it" he'll claim.

And before you can even protest, he’s already moving- using his quick-flight abilities to change the sheets, clean you up, and fetch water for you both, all in the blink of an eye.

Other than that, aftercare is all warmth- consisting of soft praises, gentle touches, and the comforting weight of his body in between your arms.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Mark loves your hands, he wants to feel them around his neck or in his hair during sex. He wants to watch you jerk him off and glide your long fingers in and out of his puffy hole.

Even outside of sex the warmth of your touch is a quiet comfort. Whether your fingers are laced with his or resting gently on his thigh, it grounds him in a way you don’t realize.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Mark is an absolute cum slut and you can't change my mind.

He loves the flavor of it and will lap up anything that dribbles from your slit.

He's not a big fan of facials, because they're dirty and he doesn't like the feeling of cum drying in his hair, but aside from that, he's more than happy to feel you cum on his tummy or all over his back.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Mark enjoys dominance play, regardless of whether you have powers/are as strong as he is. He gets excited when you’re combative- he especially likes when you thrash and kick at him.

Secretly he wants you to fight back and take control over him- muzzle him, tie him up, and put him in his place like some sort of mutt- but he’s too embarrassed to ask.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Mark isn't very experienced. He's watched plenty of porn and he learned a bit during his relationship with Amber. However, he never bottomed before you came along, so taking his anal virginity was a process that you had to help walk him through.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Now I know this is a boring answer, but Mark loves missionary- regular missionary, laying down sideways, or up against a wall. Anything that involves making eye contact with you really.

(He'll still let you hit it from the back though, he knows how much you love his sculpted ass.)

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Mark has always been a little awkward when it comes to anything romantic. Especially in the beginning of your relationship, he struggled to take sex seriously- not because he didn’t like it, but because bottoming for you was intimidating. To ease his own nerves, he’d crack jokes or laugh at himself whenever he did something embarressing, hoping to mask his fear with humor.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Mark doesn't grow a lot of body hair in general. His chest is completely bare and he is hardly covered on his arms and legs.

He keeps himself trimmed but not fully shaven.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Like I said before, in the beginning of your relationship Mark was especially awkward and goofy during sex.

But over time- through a handful of near-death experiences and tragedies- he’s come to understand the beauty of intimacy. He knows now that every time you have sex it could be the last, making each touch, each whispered word, all the more precious.

Sometimes, when you hold him close while fucking into him, he swears he can feel your souls collide as if in that moment, he understands all of your thoughts and feelings more deeply than anyone else ever could.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Mark Grayson may be a Viltrumite, but at the end of the day, he’s still human- a young horny human.

Mark jerks off daily, even with how busy his schedule is.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Mark has a praise kink.

The poor boy is always so stressed and overworked, sometimes all he really needs is a few words of reassurance from the person he loves.

He never realized how much he craved praise until he met you.

The first time you held him close, whispering sweet nothings into his ear while bullying your way inside him, he felt something shift. Overwhelmed by the warmth of your words, he teared up, letting the euphoria wash over him. Cumming all over himself as tears dribbled off his chin and onto his chest.

Since that night, you’ve made a conscious effort to shower him with kind words, knowing just how much they affect him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Literally anywhere that isn't his mom's house.

He'll fuck on the bed, on the couch, on a counter, on the floor, in your car, or in a secluded public area- he doesn't really care he just doesn't want to be caught.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Mark loves the sound of your voice. Dirty talk him in public or whisper praise into his ear and he'll be so embarrassed.

Besides that, just looking at you is enough to get him worked up. He loves the sight of you after a workout- all flushed, sweaty, and glowing. And fresh out of the shower? That might be his favorite view. He loves to see you wearing nothing but a towel with your v-line just barely poking out.

Watching the beads of water drip down your abdomen and on to the floor will have him on his knees almost instantly.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He won't outright say no, but Mark doesn't like wearing his suit or roleplaying during sex.

He spends so much of his life hiding behind a secret identity, with you, he just wants to be himself. He doesn’t want to be Invincible- he just wants to be Mark.

(if he comes back in a ripped suit though its free game- its not your fault he looks so good after getting his ass beat.)

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

This boy is a munch- no questions asked.

He will be on his hands and knees for you before you can even get a word in.

He enjoys receiving too, dont get me wrong. He loves the view of you engulfing his cock in your mouth. He loves the warmth of your lips and the way your moans make him shiver, but nothing beats the weight of your cock in his mouth.

Sometimes after a hard day he'll want to cock warm you with his throat, sucking you down to the base and keeping you there while he rests his eyes or scrolls on his phone.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Both- depends on the day.

Slow intimate sex with Mark is great, but more often than not the two of you are pent up and will fuck like rabits.

Mark is insanely resilient. You can be as rough as you want, and he will never even think about tapping out or making you slow down.

Slap him, spank him, whip him, choke him, spit on him, tug on his hair- literally no matter what you do he can handle it.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

The both of you are very familiar with quickies. You probably have more quickies than you do actual sex. Time with him is often cut short because that god damn beeper is always going off.

The two of you will usually attempt to squeeze out at least one quick orgasm every time you're left alone with each other.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Mark hasn't really had the chance to explore his own kinks, so the more time he spends with you, the more he begins to understand what he’s into.

He wouldnt like anything outright disgusting and he’s definitely not an exhibitionist. However, other than that he’s willing to explore pretty much anything.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Marks stamina is genuinely never ending. He could pump out load after load after load and will have barely worked up a sweat.

If he had the time and if you could keep up he could probably go at it for a full 24 hours.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He’s never owned a sex toy before, he’d rather be caught dead than have Debbie stumble across it while cleaning his room.

From what he’s experienced with you, he enjoys cock rings and vibrators.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He's not a major tease, but that doesn't mean he doesn't know what you like and won't use it to his advantage.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

When you’re having rough sex- lots of incoherent babbling and loud moans

alternatively- during slower nights lots of suppressed groans and quiet whimpers close to your ear.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Mark can be a crybaby. Sometimes he’ll shed tears from the overwhelming pleasure he’s feeling. Other times he cries from the weight of his responsibilities, shedding tears as you help him relieve his stress and replace it with pleasure.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Relatively average in length- like 5 1/2 inches but girthy and veiny.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Mark is young and relatively inexperienced so he is extremely eager to fuck.

At some points he’s practically begging for you dick him down- and if you complain about being too tired he’ll ride you until you physically cant take it anymore.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He can fall asleep after if he tries, but sex doesn’t necessarily make him tired.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*: ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡

A/n: These head cannons are self indulgent don’t shoot me if you disagree ;)

[st4r-th0ughts]

Fav way to start a smut fic is by making a man so needy, getting so worked up while they beg for you to have a reaction to their pleas. ♡

masterlist

ft. Mark Grayson, Cecil Stedman, Rex Splode x male aligned reader

ׂ╰┈➤

Mark Grayson… He’s… well, Invincible! He saves the world, he flies around the globe to punch down threats and monsters, he’s got a mom and a younger brother along with best friends, all while having the hottest boyfriend in the goddamn universe. He’s only 19, sure, but personally? He prides himself on being coolheaded for the most part.

Well, it’s an exception when it comes to you.

He’s straddling your lap, his cock is out and he’s grinding it against your stomach, but your stone faced despite the fact that he can see the bulge in your own pants, the way your hips subtly angle itself so he could grind just ever so slightly against your clothed tip. You’re scrolling through your phone, barely acknowledging the fact that he needs you so bad it’s driving him insane.

“Please… please, I’ve been good, haven’t I? Are you upset, Reader? Please!”

A smirk barely finds its way to your lips, you force yourself to tug it down as your back flops against the bed, your self control threathening to break as Mark follows suit, grabbing your phone and grinding his hips against yours, the most pleading look in his eyes. Like a damn puppy.

You sigh as your attention finally shifts to Mark, your hands gripping the superhero’s waist as you start to fully pull off his pants. Your hands… they’re bigger than Mark’s, coarser, rougher, and though he knows he can easily overpower you, watching the hungry look in your eyes makes him content enough to be absolutely wrecked tonight.

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ ♡

If you told a young Cecil Stedman he would be head over heels for a man twice a decade younger than him, and in addition, was also the head doctor of the medical department for the superheroes, he’d laugh and call you crazy. Well, he’d be calling himself crazy, considering he’s being punished by you.

There’s a certain charm of having a much older man kneeled in front of you, his cock hard against the confines of his smooth leather pants, while you, are busy with stupid medical papers, and his hands are tied behind his back. There is also the charm of being under your desk, and his face is pressed against your inner thigh, just inches away from being able to get what he wants.

He doesn’t want to beg. Thats how it was at the start of whatever this charade was at least. He’s Cecil fucking Stedman, he doesn’t beg, he’s the one who shoots out the orders. Well, not now he ain’t. Right now, he has a very hard problem between his legs, and he also has that ache to have your cock in his mouth.

“Goddamnit, fucking tease…”

He grumbles and curses under his breath, the dull ache in his knees and the silk around his wrists behind his back making him irritated and horny as you release a chuckle at the older man’s struggle, a well maintained hand finding the director of the GDA’s chin to tilt it up, and he swallows at the hungry look in your eyes.

“You’ve done so well, puppy. Maybe you deserve a reward, hm?”

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ ♡

Rex Splode is implusive. He’s impulsive in battles, in his social life, and it certainly extends to his romantic life. He’s a brat through and through, and luckily, you love breaking them down. Which is how he is now in bed, all naked and tied, but you’re just- not paying him any attention! It’s driving him nuts!

He’s upset, you’re the one who got him all hot and bothered when you both retired to your apartment, you’re the one who stripped him down and got out the silk that mind you- you barely use, and you’re the one who tied him up! What do you mean you’re just going to sit there at your desk and read??

“Readerr! C’mon, I know you can hear mee!”

Rex, unfortunately, is a man who doesn’t care much for consequences, or how the long game will play out. And his whines, which have been going on for almost an hour, finally send you over the edge as your book slams shut, and Rex goes silent, both excited and also just a smidge terrified at the look in your eyes.

“Damn right I can, Rex. Maybe I should start trying to shut you up.”

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ ♡

fin.

© st4r-th0ughts 2025, I don’t allow reposts, reuploads, translations, or copies.

[bunnyhatty]

toys, toys, toys galore!

mark grayson x amab reader!

hiii... hey... guess who's back... sorry for disappearing for 10 whole months.... i began college, failed college, started a new job, and just put in my two weeks for my old one. its been wild.

nsfw warning!

when you first asked mark, "can i use my toys on you?" he nearly fell off his chair, spilled hot coffee all over himself, and bit his tongue off.

it's not like this was unsurprising, you've asked him little farvors like these ones whenever the both of you were in the mood. however, this one was surprising as you were quietly, shyly almost, asking him while pink dusted your ears.

he can't see the face you're making, but it was probably as embarrassed as your tone was. it was really cute, so cute that all he could do was breathe out a shaky "yes" that made you smile so sweetly at him, it was his ears' turn to become pink.

and with that, you found yourself back into your apartment. (well, it might as well be his too with how he sleeps here every other night.)

you hadn't expected mark to say yes. you sprung the question so out of the blue you saw him nearly choke on his hot coffee. theb he said yes, double the shyness that you were feeling at that moment.

so naturally, the both of you sat across from each other, taking turns blinking. he was slowly beginning to breathe heavily as the anticipation and anxiety racked through his frame.

you slowly flipped the lid open and gently spread the cold lube upon his dick. he jumped slightly at the temperature but begun to calm down as the lube matched the intense heat he radiated.

he groaned softly as he watched you turn the little pink egg on and slowly, gently pressed it on his pink tip. a high pitched gasp escaped his lips as he felt the vibrations down to his balls.

he's squirming a bit as you somehow firmly tied the cute little egg onto his tip before you quickly grabbed a smaller, petite dildo. it was the least intimidating one, in length and girth.

you gently tapped on his thigh, prompting him to shift his focus from the vibrator to the unassuming dildo in your hand. his eyes widened a bit, perhaps in shock and a bit of panic before he shut them tightly and gave you a confident nod. then a quick "yes, that's okay." to reassure you.

you scooped up the lube and precum leaking from him, enough to coat a finger, mark is trembling slightly from the anxious anticipation as you circled around his rim. then as delicately as you, you pushed in.

mark made a sound somewhere in between a moan and a whimper, his toes curled as he tried to relax from the new sensations he was feeling.

the loud squelching noise every time it pushed was so lewd and loud, it overtook any thoughts forming in your head. you felt hypnotized as the silicone disappeared and appeared from the hot, wet rim.

you could tell that for mark, it was embarrassing, but also difficult to stop the whining, the moaning, and groaning. you stop moving immediately whenever you notice every time he tried to muffle himself.

it wasn't very long till mark was cumming, the white come was thicker than you imagined, and as you licked the sensitive head — earning an almost pained whimper from mark — it was saltier, too.

you mercifully gave mark some time to recover before you brought out anymore toys. while you will be patient, you were also so much more excited and hornier thinking about the scrunched up face, glazed eyes and leaking drool on mark's face.

he opened one eye (you just noticed how diluted his pupils are, brown eyes almost black) as if asking silently if there was more.

and damn if that didn't make your dick impossibly harder.

firstly, it had been on your mind for a while but you decidedly slid a cock ring down his cock, the pointed end rubbing onto his perineum whenever he moved.

you reached beside you once more. from the box that held your little hobby, you pulled out a fleshlight. it was rubbery, and had a skincolor similar to yours. mark must've had thought the same as his blush spread down from the back of his neck to his chest.

you covered the inside of the toy generously with lube and swiftly inserted it on mark's cock, earning you a high-pitched whine.

"w-wait, wait," he stuttered out. he evens his breathing out, the same way he does after training. while you wait, you pulled out another toy, this time your anal beads.

the toy was a sort of bright green, each bead getting bigger as it goes down. "okay?" you asked and mark was silent for a few seconds before he stuttered out "yes."

while his ass was still full of lube from earlier, you still carefully applied some on the beads to prevent hurting him (while that was a delicious idea, you shelved it for now to avoid him getting mad, or worse, wanting this to end.) and slowly slid the smallest one while simultaneously beginning to stroke his dick with the fleshlight.

mark was a moaning mess, tears and drool mixed together on the bottom of his chin by the time you got to the 4th bead, which was the size of a golf ball. you'd pop it in and out while gripping onto his cock tightly.

"g-god! please, please! i want to c-come. let me! please!" he pleaded, his legs were squirming around you as the pleasure was too much, too intense. as much as you wanted to edge him, for now you swiftly paused to remove the fleshlight, then the cock ring.

however, you pushed the next bead into him (about the size of a large egg), "you're a good boy, right?" mark frantically shook his head, his hips stuttered into an uneven rhythm of grinding down on the toy. "then can you come with just this?" he lets out a whiny breath.

he began grinding more intentionally. taking that as your answer, you angled the toy (as much as you can) to accurately abuse his prostate.

mark was sobbing by the time he came, feeling the pleasure and overstimulation deep into his bones.

"ughh, no more..." he somehow groaned out as he finally came down from the high of his second, more powerful orgasm.

though, as if he snapped out of his hazy trance, he reached for you, more specifically, your crotch. "what about you?" he tilted his head at you.

you gently pry away his hand. "i'm okay, this was about you."

"doesn't feel like it." he jokingly pouted.

letting out a laugh, you stand up to quickly take care of your business in the bathroom, having mark from earlier as your material. as you fixed yourself up, you also dampened a towel with warm water to wash mark with.

having the cleaning done and taken care of, you lay inbetween mark's strong arms, who was now quietly snoring on you.

it feels so nice to have a boyfriend so willing to do things for you. with that thought, you joined mark to sleep.

[weaver77]

Mark: 🥺

Y/n: Mark please use your words. I don't speck bottom

[pickledollsheshe]

I feel like mark would be so whiny and pathetic when it came to sex.

At first he’d really, and I mean REALLY try to impress you. He’d make you cum atleast once or twice before you even touched him. But god, once you finally pull his dick out and let your hand wrap around him he’d be done for.

He would let out the sweetest whines when you give him a hand job. His face would be all flushed and sweaty, pretty puppy dog eyes all blown out and glassy.

Oh and don’t get me started on if you took him into your mouth. The feeling of your spit mixing with his pre, your tongue licking at him. The way you looked up at him with those eyes. He honestly might have cum then and there.

But he’d hold himself off, even if it hurt. Because he wanted to make you happy and if you don’t explicitly tell him when and where you want him to cum he wont. When he finally gets to put himself inside of you, he feels himself already on edge. He has to focus almost completely on not cumming and ruining your experience. I feel like he’d just lay there and whine, whimpering when you ground your hips into his (if you wanted to ride him, although he’d offer to fuck you missionary so you could relax, he wouldn’t survive missionary. This is better.) he would look all around the room, too blissed out to think about anything besides not cumming. And finally after you get your fill and say the magic words, he would immediately fill up the condom. Hands forced on his sides, ripping the fabric of the sheets because he doesn’t trust himself to hold onto you. He’d thank you over and over again as he cums, letting out the cutest whines when he finally pulls out of you.

(I head cannon that all viltrumites are super sensitive down thereee)

(Also this is kinda self indulgent and ooc but I don’t care)

[thegr33nc0met]

pervy loser mark that steals reader’s favorite hoodie/cardigan just so he can sniff it and cuddle it while he jerks off..

that’s it, that’s the post😌

[pastelclovds]

invincible is dragging me back by the ankles

thinking about a human!reader who has lived a pretty decent, normal existence. at least, as normal as it could be with all the hero's trying to exterminate world ending threats daily, and leaving major cities in ruins afterwards. the death of the guardians made the threats worsen over time.

one day, as you were taking your usual midnight stroll, you were stopped by the one and only, omni-man. his only excuse? he said and i quote.

“human, it has come to my attention that you’re releasing strange, aphrodisiacal pheromones; and it has become a problem for me.”

you blink once, twice, thrice, and you’re eyes widened as you finished processing his sentence. you were releasing sexy pheromones?? where was it during your days in college? your vision on omni-man’s flushed face trails down to his pelvic region, where his ragging boner was making itself known beneath his suit.

cue to nolan dragging you to an empty alleyway, stripping you both butt naked, and riding you until you left his hole gaping and filled to the brim with your cum. he let out an uncharacteristic, longing moan as he painted your chest in white.

turns out he’s been wanting you for a while ever since he first caught whiff of your scent that one afternoon a week ago as he was defeating a kaiju.

as for the “aphrodisiacal pheromones” you seem to unknowingly release daily: it only seems to affect nobody else but nolan. you don’t have a problem with it though, as long as you continue to fuck the number one super “hero,” you don’t need anything else.

that’s until mark appears before you with an embarrassed grin and a hard on of his own. then his other variants appeared like beasts in heat, and now conquest. yeah, you’re a viltramite magnet.

[vinnyvamppp]

Pretty When You Cry

Did I leave for two hours and come back with this?! Yes, I did! Mainly, my idea for writing this is because he cries often in the show when upset or overwhelmed, so why not let that apply to sex too?

Synopsis: He's having relationship issues with Amber, but you're willing to be his distraction... right?

Warnings: Dacryphillia, Sub!Mark (canonically loves his women in charge), Soft Dom!Reader, Position changes, implied struggles with romance, no contraception (pull out game 💀), porn w a plot, fem presenting reader, friends to lovers?

Mark Grayson/Invincible x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,542

He was such a pretty crier. A man in tears was a man you could love for years. It was a sight you never grew tired of. While it would be shameful to admit, you partially listened to him spill his troubles to see those glistening pearls bubble down his waterline. As you stared at him admiringly—perched against his rooftop—you listened as he poured his heart out, a feeling of pity settling in your gaze.

Little did you know, his emotions were stirring more than usual and creating an unfamiliar sense of lust towards you.

This was wrong—utterly and irrevocably wrong.

Mark gazed idly at your dimly lit features as you looked up at the stars from the roof, he had decided to invite you over to his place after a fight with his girlfriend; he didn't want to go home, and he definitely didn't want to be alone. The fight with Amber still lingered—a bitter taste in his mouth—but it was nothing compared to the turmoil brewing in his chest.

He wanted a break—you were just that. One of his childhood friends and confidants. He was certain he and Amber were over; it was a situation where he didn’t realize they were broken up until it was too late. So why the hell—in the midst of everything—was he thinking about kissing you? He HAD a girlfriend a few hours ago, one who loved him with every fiber of her being.

Yet, you were always so pretty to him. It would be a lie to say he hadn’t had a crush on you in the past—or even fucked his fist at the thought of you until his dick was raw and coated in lotion. It was pathetic, he knew it, but more than ever now he felt enticed by your very presence. The way your lips would speak such comforting words, and you would stare at him as if only he existed. Sure, the relationship between him and Amber didn’t work out because he’s Invincible and she’s a regular human, but he could be selfish just this once… right?

For the thousandth time, you reassured him Amber would return to him with a new resolve. It was almost like you were trying to convince the two of you. It was nonexistent now. So what else could he do besides cast aside his doubt and stare at those puffy lips?

“You okay?” you asked, curious about his staring. “Yeah… yeah, I’m okay,” he muttered like a dejected puppy, tugging at your heartstrings. “Right, so instead of moping… you need a stress reliever. For your sake. Dragging yourself around all day won’t help.” You sighed quietly, your fingers gently resting against the thin cloth of his back reassuringly.

“Right,” he replied. “What’s your idea of a stress reliever—and don’t say exercise; I already do that constantly.” His fingers gestured in your direction, some of his playfulness returning. “Get this,” you started, as if to say something revolutionary. “Exercise.”

His eyes rolled as he mumbled under his breath, his head turning to face you with a raised brow. “You’re such a comedian,” he quipped. “Come on, an actual one that won’t have me sweating and panting like a dog, okay? Please?” His voice struck a chord within you; it was the perfect rasp and whine.

Not to mention his words causing your thoughts to travel a million miles past sexual. “I wouldn’t mind the sight,” you said casually. “Besides—the lotion and tissue in your room suggests you ‘exercise’ more than enough.”

It was a harmless joke—enough to bring him pause as you two quietly chuckled. It was embarrassing, but nothing he couldn’t deny.

“Uh. Yeah,” he muttered. As you leaned over slightly, his staring persisted. Your shoulder rested against his as you stared into his eyes. His gaze avoided you momentarily before locking within your reflection. “Mark, what’s going on?” you asked, head tilting slightly. “I know I’m not going crazy—you’ve been staring at me since you invited me over. You didn’t call me over just to stare.” The last sentence was sarcastic. “I did,” he rasped—it was hushed and nearly caused your hearts to flutter in tandem.

“They are different." He started, "Very different. But I… didn’tknowhowtotellyoubecauseitfeelsdesperatetosaythisnowthatamberandibrokeupbutivelikeyouforalongtimeandimeansincewewerekidsandireallywanttokissyourightnowandineedtobeinsideyou.”

It poured out like an unexpected dam breaking.

As you stared at him in silence—your looks of bewilderment matched one another’s. To escape his embarrassment, he briskly stood up, opened his bedroom window, and climbed in. As he turned away, you crawled in behind him—his gaze slowly meeting yours as you gave a “Fuck it” sort of nod.

The actions were fast—rushed even. He needed a distraction to quiet his never-ending mind—and like always—you were the solution. His fingers draped over your waist as he pulled you in, your lips meeting his in feverish delight.

His temperature as a Viltrumite ran hot—your bodies already producing a light sheen of sweat. The quiet sounds of moans mingled between hot breaths. Tilting his head further—his lips parted as his tongue jutted out in search of yours. It was a gentle yet mutually needy kiss; your bodies were pressed so firmly together you could feel the tent forming against his slacks.

He was an excited one—but gentle. Tangling your fingers in his hair, you tugged the strands to earn a strangled groan. His lips latched onto yours like a suction cup; only when he was satisfied with your moans did his puffy lips shift down your neck. His tongue tickled the skin—not leaving marks as to get caught, but covering you in his taste. Your fingers delved under the fabric of his shirt as you relished the attention.

The indentation of his abs was the sweetest treat—your fingers shifted upwards—exposing his abdomen to the night's chill as you both groaned. His feet shuffled forward clumsily as you two fell against his bed.

Sitting you up, his fingers nimbly worked you out of your shirt and pants. Your hands fumbled to get his pants down, but eventually, they pooled around his ankles. Just as he assisted you in removing his shirt, you took in his appearance with such admiration and lust while he stared at you reverently.

You two—while being incredibly impatient—nearly skipped foreplay entirely. His fingers unclasped your bra and removed the matching colored panties down the flesh of your thighs. The wet patch forming in his boxers was becoming evident—his arousal at an all-time high, and his stamina was mounting for the night ahead.

Pressing you back against the bed, your bodies pressed together—his heart pounding—you devoured each other's mouths. His tongue was like a tender caress that made your stomach tie in knots; the anticipation was killing you. “Ha… I needed this,” his words muffled between kisses as you hummed in agreement.

He pulled away—his thumb dragging down the corner of his boxer as his cock slowly sprung from beneath the fabric. In all its glory, it stood with neatly trimmed pubes and visibly throbbed with restraint. Once his last article of clothing hit the ground, he took a moment to nervously chuckle as he admired you, splayed beneath him. His expression was giddy as it traced down the supple curves of your figure, the fat of your breasts and the arousal coating the outside of your folds—catching his attention more than anything. You looked gorgeous.

Time was up. You had enough and needed a little more. Reaching up to give him a gentle peck, you flipped him onto his back as you straddled him. He looked surprised but welcomed the authority as he melted beneath you. His lips sought yours, and your fingers began to caress your clit as you continued.

The quiet sound of your arousal pooled into his ears, his eyes fluttering open as he stared at you with your eyes screwed shut in bliss. He could feel himself nearly cum from the sight alone. His dick was beginning to hurt—and to soothe the ache—his fingers wrapped around his cock and pumped in tandem with your fingers.

Slightly annoyed—your fingers swatted his away and brought it to your clenching hole—ready to milk him dry. As his first digit entered your warmth, he shivered. He could feel every ridge and contraction as your abs squeezed from the pleasure. His fingers formed a V, and once spread enough, you took your seat with pleasure. It would normally hurt, but thanks to your sadistic mind imagining his crying for the last few hours, you’d been leaking like a faucet.

The stretch was delicious, but nothing was better than his blissed expression and immediate groan. Deep. Long. Exhilarating strokes. He was reactive—the perfect man for your little kink. Never mind not having a condom; he was never the most responsible in that manner.

The slow, deliberate movement of your hips was like a tantalizing dance—teasing him with every rotation. His fingers dug into your thighs, urging you on as you began riding him with an unhurried intensity. His eyes locked onto yours, his eyes occasionally fluttering shut in pleasure as he fought the urge to slam you down against him. While he would love to, he felt helpless and abandoned to your will, a willing captive, lost in the maelstrom of desire.

His chest rose and fell as quiet whines slowly filled his throat—the sight of his eyes rolling back before fluttering finally broke the final restraints of your self-perseverance. Digging your fingernails into his chest—your hips rose slowly before suddenly dropping with a renewed conviction. “Oh… F-Fuck… yes,” he sighed, like this was the medicine he’d been craving.

As much of a gentleman as he was for his girlfriends, he was lascivious when he intended.

Shifting his fingers to your ass, he assisted in the fluidity of your movements—his strength allowing you to glide along his cock with ease. Moans began to filter from your lips. “That’s… perfect, don’t you stop,” you demanded it with every bit of grit you could muster.

Your fingers clasped around the width of his chin so he could focus on you—his body bouncing against the mattress as the air was knocked from him. He wasn’t the most talkative, but he was vocal. “I’m not… I’m not going to stop. Feels so perfect in here, I can’t—I,” he stammered wearily as his body moved on autopilot.

You watched as he practically fucked himself dumb, the sound of skin colliding filling your ears as your teeth gnawed at your lip. One particularly deep thrust seemed to have sent him into overdrive—his tip could feel your insides contracting as if to suck him in more.

He wanted to be buried in you—he could imagine you two fucking like rabbits. He smiled weakly at the thought.

His toes curled into the mattress as your back arched, and harsh gasps erupted from his throat as his body trembled. A groan—a measly groan of his resilience, echoed in the room. Lost in your own sounds of pleasure, you had yet to notice the man nearly convulsing beneath you.

His hand left your hips and rose to the fingers that gripped his chin. Suddenly, your impending orgasm was ruined.

“Sorry, I’m s—sorry, I’m so sorry,” he babbled before pressing a firm hand against your stomach and resting your back against the bed.

Before you could react, he sheathed himself within your pussy once more and fucked you with vigor to make up for lost time.

He attempted to speak—only his jaw clenched in response. Your head fell back against the edge of the bed—the legs of the bed frame wobbled as it rocked sideways; the thumps against the wall filled the room. Pleasured grunts and profanities fell from your pouted lips as you ground back against him. A high-pitched whine fell from him as his head fell.

“Oh—Jesus, what—what the fuck? You feel so, so, so, so,” he slurred slightly—you chuckled in response.

“Fuck… mm, seems like you’ve wanted this for a while?” you questioned through moans—your fingers cupping your bouncing breasts from his gaze as he grew distracted.

“You… have noooo idea,” he admitted—too in bliss to care much about embarrassment.

Your core slowly began to tighten and so did your chest as his body pressed forward with nearly all his weight. His fingers curled into the blankets as his tongue ran dry with ruined sobs. His pelvis rubbing deliciously against your clit made your legs stiffen behind him. He moved to pull away—but before you could—one of your legs hooked around the width of his neck.

The position elevated your hips slightly—his dick punctuating with each thrust unintentionally.

He was losing his mind. Such raw and unfiltered love swelled his chest. Your fingers wrapped around the width of his lower back to spur him on—your orgasm quickly doubling back. “P-Please, can’t cum inside… fuck,” he muttered wearily as tears began to fall.

His body trembling with pleasure, he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. The sensation was too much, the pressure building in his chest like a dam about to burst. He tried to hold it back—to grit his teeth and bear it, but it was no use. The pleasure mounting had his body wracking in ways he had yet to feel so intensely.

With a satisfied grin, you watched his pretty lashes become coated with warm tears. The salty taste stained your lips as he moaned in delight. Your sounds mingled with one another until they became indistinguishable. His fingers found the fat of your ass and he bullied himself into you, the strength behind it made you dizzy.

Wiping his tears away, you peppered gentle kisses against his face. “I've always loved you,” he muttered suddenly—you brightened in response. “Love you too,” you replied gingerly before a high-pitched whine ripped from your throat. The tip of his tongue pawed at your nipple desperately—the bud hardening beneath his cold saliva.

Your orgasm hit you like a train as your back arched, your fingers clasped at him—legs trembling. Harsh gasps left you in your failed attempt to remain silent. Hedonistic praises left you, but Mark could barely respond. The throbbing sensation of your pussy was practically trying to suck the cum from his cock. “Please, oh fuck, please, baby, I’m gonna cum. Holy shit,” his words were hurried as he let out a chuckle of disbelief.

At his words, your leg freed him—as he pulled out just last minute, his sperm barely making it to your abdomen. His body hunched over as he gasped—his jaw slacking as his muscles visibly strained. Slow whines spilled from his lips as he came down from his high.

His recovery time was fast, though his body still trembled with an aftershock. With bated breaths, you both stared at one another, his eyes barely focused as he sat in awe.

You both chuckled at one another before his rasped voice called out to you. “You think we should date?” he asked before correcting himself. “I mean, do you want to date me? I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I would like—"

A pillow slammed into his face as you rolled your eyes. “Sure, Mark. I’d love to go out with you.”

Had to be dramatic like the show lmfao.

MasterList ོ༘₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚

[misalsmistake]

cw : mark is pathetic , unprotected sex , p n v penetration , nutting inside the puthy.

an : uhm I’ve watched invincible and I’m like obsessed with mark, and amber, and eve, and debbie, and- anyway take this little drabble bye

marks breath hitches as he parts your folds, entranced by the sight of his cock disappearing inside you with each languid thrust—he doesn’t wanna hurt you, of course.

“you feel so good—so soft, silky..” his voice trails off as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, pressing hot opened mouth kisses along the skin.

your hand tangles in his hair, pressing your body impossibly closer to his “kiss me, mark” to which he’s quick to comply, slotting his lips against yours.

his face is flushed pink, sheen with sweat and hot at the touch, you prefer him this way.

“I’m gonna—ohgodd..” his thrusts pick up in pace, his whines growing impossibly louder.

“mark—pull out,mark-“ you say, breathlessly.

he gingerly shakes his head “I’m sorry—imsosorry-Icant-pleaseee” he pulls you into an embrace, a tight one.

“markk!” you whine, pawing at his chest.

he stills inside you, his balls tightening as he spills into your pussy. he places kisses to your face, his warm breath fanning your skin.

he hides his face in your chest, skin sticking to yours like glue.

“shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-“

“it’s fine, mark”

“really?”

“no you’re on a pussy ban.”

[pickledollsheshe]

Mark humping your thigh like a dog in heat while you just scroll on your phone paying him no mind. He’s whining and huffing out little “please..”s and “need you”s. But you don’t touch him because he missed your date so this is the best he’s gonna get!

(I need to be put in a white padded room and locked away from society)

[nympheagain]

She’s so mean...!

Pairing: Bully!reader x Mark Grayson

Warnings: overstimulation, dumbification, p in v sex, she's a bully :(, they both switch, they’re so mean to each other ://, slapping, semi-public sex, hair pulling

Wc: 1.8k

A/n: Uni has been beating my ass recently-- I promise Virgin!Mark x Virgin!Reader is on its way but for now here you go 💋

You were mean. Your words cut into people like a knife and the way you delivered your insults was almost one in and of itself.

Smiling as you rubbed salt into the wound. Batting your lashes as you said some of the cruelest things he’s ever heard. You were mean, and you were crude, and you were so damn beautiful…

God, he wanted to just—

“You wish, Grayson.” Your voice is filled with venom, and you’re staring at him with a look of disgust, nose tilted upwards like you’re too good for the world. And maybe you are, he thinks.

You couldn’t help it. He was so stupid and aloof and his eyes were so big and brown. And he stared at you like you held the world in your manicured hands.

And god, was he easy to bully. He didn't even talk back! He'd just look down at the ground like a kicked dog and take it like a good boy.

So on a random summer day, when you catch him walking into the chem labs, and because your temper is as hot as the weather, you follow him in, ready to take your frustrations out on poor Mark Grayson.

"Whatcha doing here, Grayson?" You ask, lashes fluttering innocently at him. He's watching the only door in the room, as if evaluating a way to escape. But alas, there was none.

When he doesn't respond, you keep going, his silence fuel to your flaming words. "Hmm? Dumb boy doesn't even know what he's doin'?" You're smirking, inching closer to him, backing him up to the far wall of the lab, against a counter with various powders and solutions.

"Too stupid to respond?" You push further, both figuratively and literally, pressing your front to his. He's taller than you, so you have to raise your head to stare at his face.

Mark can’t seem to meet your eyes. He’s usually shy around you, but this was different. His eyes were all glassy, like he was holding back tears. Did you take it too far?

But then you look down and he’s… hard?

And you actually laugh. Guffaw really. Right in his face. To the point of tears. You would've kept on laughing till tomorrow if it wasn't for the small sound of something resembling a whimper spilling into your ear.

Oh?

You don't know why. Or maybe you do. Maybe you've always found, deep down inside, Mark to be a bit pretty. His dark hair, puppy eyes, long lashes just a few more than alluring features of his.

“Oh Mark,” you sigh. “How pathetic.”

Mark is panting. He looks away, cheeks tinged red as you finally place your palm against his hard on.

And he's groaning, voice rumbling deep in his throat as he seizes into you, face hidden in your neck. He’s babbling sweet nothings into your ear, incoherent in his pleasure, and you think you hear a sob when you reach into his boxers and pull him out.

“Awwwh. Big boy can’t take it? Thought you were s’posed to be strong?” You’re mocking him, and he can hear the smile in your voice as he continues shuddering into your neck.

“Fuck. I am. I am strong. Gonna- gonna show it t’you.” He’s rambling, hands tight on your hips as you squeeze him tight, hand twisting at the base of his cock.

You’re shivering. And you'd like to pretend this wasn't having an effect on you, but you couldn't deny how wet you got just from Mark's panting breaths hitting your ear.

"Yeah? It's okay, dummy. You can come. Go on," you usher. Feeling sweet, you decide to peck a few kisses down the side of his neck, and that's all it takes for Mark to shoot ropes and ropes of cum right on your skirt.

"Oh Mark, look what you've done." You say, sighing. "Y'gonna have to clean up."

. . . .

The weather is cooler now. Not quite cold, but bearable. It's the kind of day where you'd wear a sweater with a short skirt.

You and Mark hadn't interacted since you jacked him off in the chem lab. But you see him, stealing glances at you. Blushing at the sight of you.

You see the hunger in his eyes as he tracks your movement. As his eyes brush over the length of your skirt, moving up and up until his gaze lands on your covered cunt.

You don't pay him much mind, but you're reveling in his attention. In the way he yearns. You think you see his jaw clench when you walk past him one day, little finger brushing his.

And you wanna feel his lips on you.

So when you hear the professor wrapping up the lecture, a wicked smile stretches your glossy lips as you decide to put your plan into motion.

He's seated behind you, as always. And you just remain seated there in your seat, legs crossed over each other as the professor and students trickle out. You finally stand up when everyone's gone, walking to the door, and you can hear him shuffle behind to catch up to you.

"Locked... or should we leave it open?" You're asking, hand on the lock, smiling when you hear his bag fall to the ground.

Everything feels like a blur with Mark, you realise, because all of a sudden you're sitting on the professors desk, and he's kneeling in front of you, and you're trying to figure out how you got here so fast.

But you don't have much time to ponder, cause you feel Mark's big hands rub the tops of your thighs, pushing them open meekly. You look down at him, nodding as you put your hands into his hair, pulling slightly.

He moans against your skin. You almost insult how pathetic that is until he's pressing an open mouthed kiss to your clothed cunt, and then you're gasping, all thoughts of bullying him thrown out the window.

It's so sinful, so debauched, the way he feasts on you like a man starved. And god, if bullying Mark got him like this, you were never gonna stop. He's groaning, and you almost come when your foot comes into contact with his crotch, because he's rock hard.

Then you're really coming, hard and fast, cause he's latched onto your clit, sucking it, nose nudging you just right, big brown eyes blown black as they stare deep into yours.

That was the most intimate orgasm you'd ever had.

. . . .

Most college students had an addition. Drinking, weed, wasting their time. Your addition had become Mark. It had become an unspoken routine. You'd find each other. In the chem lab, auditorium, janitors room. You'd be oh so mean, and he'd be oh so good for you. It was a balance. You both respected it. You both enjoyed it.

But recently, Mark was different.

You would bully him, corner him against the wall, put your hands around his arm, and while mark was always muscular, it felt different now, like there's a hum underneath his skin, and it calls to you.

When you stare back at him, his eyes are two black pools, indescribable emotion swimming through them, and it almost makes you nervous. His skin feels hot, like his blood is running hotter than it normally does.

You gulp. You let go of his arm and continue teasing him, because your words no longer held the same scathing undertones as they used to, but there's something in you, something telling you to run, like he's a lion and you're a just poor gazelle stranded in the grasslands.

And your suspicions are right, because for the first time since that hot summer day in the chem labs, he takes charge.

He flips you, face smushed on the desk as his hands push down on your back, forcing you into an arch. “Feel this? This, it’s your fault.” He punctuates his sentence with a harsh thrust of his stiff cock against your clothed cunt.

Groaning, you arch your back further, trying to push yourself back into him, but he tuts, grabbing your hands and holding them behind you. You feel yourself losing control in the situation, and in a desperate attempt to hold onto it, you seethe back at him.

“Damn, Grayson, didn’t take you for a masochist. You’re telling me bullying got you all hard and leaky?” You think maybe he’ll revert back to how he was, all stupid and desperate for you.

But then he’s chuckling, bending over you to whisper in your ear, “Baby, you don’t even know.”

You were fucked.

. . . .

You don't know how you got into Mark's bedroom. One second he's letting you go, watching as you straighten your skirt, the next you're in the fucking sky, world blurring as you hold onto him tight, and now you're on your back, leaning on your elbows as you watch him stare at you.

"What the fuck...?" You're asking, bewildered. The wind is still in your hair, and you're sure your mascara is ruined from the speed at which he was flying.

... he was flying? He was flying.

He's only smirking, slowly unbuttoning his shirt, and when you see his invincible suit underneath, suddenly you understand.

"You're that new superhero?" You're laughing. "I've seen videos of you on YouTube. Doesn't really look like you know what you're doing."

"How about I show you I know what I'm doing?"

And because you're wet, and you like the look of Mark in that skintight suit, and you've wanted him to touch you since you backed him against that wall, you're nodding.

"Yeah?" he's taking his gloves off, crawling into the bed between your legs.

. . . .

You're not sure how long you've been going at it. It feels like hours, a million different positions and orgasms. You’re on your hands and knees now, with Mark fucking you from behind.

He drives into you, again and again. He’s fucking into you like you’ve taken something from him and he wants it back. You don't know if your meanness has rubbed off on him, but he's been thrusting into you like he hates you.

And you love it.

Even now he's rambling, leaning forward to push you further into prone bone. He's telling you to take it, be a good girl for him, after all, that's why you're always so mouthy to him right? Cause you want him to shut you up.

He needs it. Needs you.

You took it all. His dignity, his courage, his love. And god, he’d give it all to you. He’d let you take and take until he had nothing left.

You gasp when he hits the spot, and he lets out a breathy chuckle, as if to say jackpot.

“M-markkkk.” You’re whining, chasing more friction, trying to guide him to where you need it most, but he’s not stilling, grinding against you in a way so damn mean.

"Fuck, cmon, baby. Come for me."

When you do, you're sobbing, cunt milking his cock as you feel his arm wrap around your neck and his thrusts continue.

Only bad thing about fucking a superhero that you'd previously bullied? They had insane stamina. And you were gonna pay for every single word.

Taglist:

@l1zard-l3ague @sugaramped @needylittleprince @repairheartzz @cosmiiwrites