#mohawk

[accecakes]

You cannot tame the mane.

[dndsmthx]

Striking Mohawk among other things...

[slutoru1207]

Losing control

Invincible!MohawkMark x reader smut

MDNI 18+

Warning: 🔞 Explicit Content, Breeding Kink, Rough & Possessive Smut. This chapter contains graphic sexual content, intense dominance, overstimulation, and a heavy focus on breeding kink. Read at your own discretion.

The moment the bedroom door shut, you felt it—the shift.

Mark had been holding back. You could see it in the way his jaw clenched, the way his fists tightened at his sides, the way his golden eyes darkened with something dangerous, something primal.

He wasn’t just stressed.

He was starving.

“You have no idea,” he exhaled, shaking his head, his voice low, strained, barely controlled. “How long I’ve been waiting for this.”

And then—

You were against the bed.

Your back hit the mattress, Mark already between your legs, ripping your clothes off with no patience, no hesitation. His strength made it effortless, fabric tearing under his hands like it was nothing. His mouth was everywhere—biting, licking, sucking, claiming, leaving bruises you’d wear for days.

His fingers dug into your thighs, spreading you open, exposing you, and the low groan that rumbled from his chest at the sight of you?

Filthy.

His tongue ran along his bottom lip, his breathing heavy, uneven. “You’re already so wet,” he muttered, voice rough. His fingers teased through your slick folds, spreading the mess. “You been thinking about this? Thinking about me filling you up?”

Your breath hitched.

He smirked. “Yeah. I can tell.”

And then his mouth was on you.

Hot. Wet. Messy.

He devoured you—tongue deep, lips sealed around your clit, sucking, drinking you down like a man dying of thirst.His hands gripped your thighs, keeping you pinned, keeping you spread, his fingers sinking deep, curling inside you just right.

It was too much.

Your body jerked, squirming, writhing, shaking, but there was nowhere to go.

Mark just groaned, his grip tightening, keeping you trapped, keeping you still, forcing you to take it. His tongue flicked over your clit faster, rougher, relentless, pushing you higher, higher—

Until you shattered.

Your orgasm hit so fast, so hard, your thighs clamped around his head, but he didn’t stop. He didn’t slow down. If anything—he got rougher. His fingers worked you through it, pushing deeper, curling, stroking, making you shake, making you sob.

“Mark—!”

But he didn’t let up.

Not even for a second.

His fingers thrust faster, his tongue dragging slow, pushing you right into another orgasm, forcing it out of you, making you gush all over his fingers, his tongue, his face.

You could barely breathe.

You begged.

And Mark just grinned.

“Not done,” he murmured, voice thick, hoarse, wrecked. His fingers left you, and before you could even process it—he was on top of you, his cock lined up, pressing against your soaked entrance.

And then—

He slammed inside.

Your back arched, your breath caught, your nails dug into his arms—

And Mark snapped.

His pace was brutal—deep, hard, unrelenting. Your legs wrapped around him, ankles locking at his back, but he wasn’t stopping. He wasn’t gentle. He was fucking you like he was trying to break you, ruin you, claim you.

His grip was everywhere—fingers wrapped around your throat, holding you down, hand fisting in your hair, pulling, forcing you to look at him.

His golden eyes burned.

“You take me so well,” he groaned, his teeth sinking into your neck, leaving marks, bruises, a possessive, permanent claim. “Like you were made for me.”

Your moans were helpless, breathless, broken, your body already shaking from overstimulation.

And Mark just chuckled—low, dark, cocky.

“You can take more.”

And you did.

Positions?

He had you every way he wanted.

- Face down, ass up – He gripped your hips, pulled you back against him, thrusting so deep you saw stars.

- Legs on his shoulders – He folded you in half, his cock hitting that perfect spot, making you scream.

- Reverse cowgirl – He held your waist, forcing you down, grinding, groaning, watching you bounce.

- Juno style? He lifted you, hands under your knees, fucking up into you, deep, sharp, merciless.

And every time you came, he didn’t stop.

Because he wasn’t done.

His thrusts got sloppy, desperate, his breathing ragged, his grip bruising.

And then—

He growled.

His arms wrapped around you, his hips snapping, his cock pulsing, throbbing—

As he came inside.

Thick, hot, deep.

He collapsed on top of you, breathing heavy, pressing kisses into your skin, panting against your ear.

His fingers traced over your stomach, smirking.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, voice low, rough, wrecked.

He kissed you—slow, deep, filthy.

“You’re gonna look so good carrying my baby.”

And fuck—

Your body shuddered.

-

Your body was still trembling, pussy throbbing, stuffed full of his cum, when Mark rolled you onto your stomach.

Your breath barely caught before he was pressing down on your back, his bare chest flush against you, trapping you beneath him.

“You thought I was finished?” he murmured, voice dark, teasing, filthy. His breath was hot against your ear, his cock still hard, still thick, still pulsing against your drenched entrance.

His fingers dragged down your spine, slow, deliberate, tracing every curve, every dip, every inch of skin he had already claimed.

"You’re still twitching, baby," he chuckled, his cock teasing your entrance, dragging against your swollen, used clit.

"Sensitive?"

Your breath hitched.

He smirked. "Too bad."

And then—

He shoved back inside.

Your moan was wrecked, broken, and Mark groaned.

“Fuck, you’re still so tight,” he hissed, filling you up all over again, stretching you out around his cock. “Guess I need to fix that.”

And he did.

His pace was deep, slow, controlled, dragging it out, making you feel every inch, every vein, every thick, throbbing pulse.

And then, just as you started adjusting—

He snapped.

His grip tightened, his hips slamming into you, fucking you into the mattress, into the sheets soaked with sweat and cum.

And you took it.

Your breath stuttered, your fingers fisted the sheets, your moans turned to screams—but Mark just grinned.

“Gonna cry for me, baby?” he taunted, slapping your ass, gripping it, spreading you open so he could watch himself disappear into you.

Your body shuddered.

"Mark—!"

His fingers tangled in your hair, yanking your head back, forcing you to arch.

“Say my name again,” he growled, breathing heavy, wrecked, desperate.

Your walls clenched around him, your body already so close, so fucked out, so overwhelmed.

And Mark felt it.

His smirk was filthy, cocky, possessive.

“Yeah, that’s right," he groaned. "Go ahead, baby. Cum for me again.”

And fuck—

You did.

Hard.

Your vision blurred, your legs trembled, your body spasmed, writhing beneath him, clenching down on his cock like you never wanted to let go.

Mark groaned—deep, guttural, animalistic. His hips stuttered, losing rhythm, fucking you through your orgasm, chasing his own.

And then—

He shoved deep, holding you down, grinding against you, filling you to the brim.

His breath shook, his arms trembled, his cock twitched—

As he came inside.

Thick. Hot. So much.

His weight sank onto you, panting, pressing soft, sloppy kisses into your shoulder, into your neck.

His hands smoothed down your sides, warm, tender, possessive.

And then—he laughed.

"You’re not walking tomorrow."

And the worst part?

He was right.

[tampire]

Brother and Buddy strike down Trema and Seymour Guado

[charishcherish]

[vendetta06]

I'm not fucking the guitarist, I AM the fucking guitarist!

me performing with my band, Fangbanger

✞

[gods-banshee]

like this and i draw them kissing!!!

https://x.com/GodsBanshee/status/1897617855069172086?t=za33bLkfAhU5wwCh3ZGdTw&s=19

INVINCIBLE WAR EP IS OUT!!!!!

[clairewritesfanfics]

How would the mark variants treat a childhood friend turned girlfriend that became blind before childhood was over? Like how would mark treat his childhood love going blind, by adulthood shes totally blind, and how would his variants treat the same situation?

I can imagine the protectiveness going through the roof, and imagine the variants trying to hide how ugly the world outside is. I wonder which would even care that you are blind, try to help, and which would consider being blind perfect for their plaything. Harder to run away if you can't see.

There is an argument to be made that those who are born blind have it easier than those who go blind. People who were born with imperfect sight have not seen how light disperses between the ocean waves, and so they don’t fear losing that small happiness. 

God can be cruel. 

He had given you eyes that saw how the sun refracts through the tide, the way fireworks light up an evening sky and bring joy to everyone who witnessed their fleeting existence. God gave you Mark Grayson, with his toothy grin and honey eyes that sucked you right in. Now you may never see those things again.

Retinitis Pigmentosa. Genetic. Non-fatal, but incurable. Most people don’t completely lose their vision, but there the chances of total blindness is non-zero. 

The ride home from the hospital was unbearable. Your dad cracked a few lame dad jokes every now and then, but you saw how his finger tapped the steering wheel every time he stopped the car for a red light. Your mom looked like she was going to break down at any moment. But she stayed quiet, tense, but quiet and unable to look at you. The air was awkward and the tension gnawed at your nerves. No one cried. 

As soon as the car reached the garage, you made a hasty exit, spouting something about meeting with Mark for a special movie premiere, then ran straight for the Graysons’ home. 

Lucky for you, your friend answered the door. You didn’t have to worry about breaking down in front of an adult.

“Wanna go to the park?” You tried to play it cool.

Mark cocked an eyebrow at you. It was already sunset. But he knew you long enough to notice your stiff shoulders, that expression in your face that looked like one wrong word would make you fall to your knees, sobbing.

So he kept the questions to himself, stepped out and closed the door behind him.

Now here you two were. Two kids in a mostly empty playground meant for much younger children. At least the swingset chairs were big enough for you. 

“So…” Mark started after ten minutes of silence, “any special news you wanna tell me or did you just really miss the park?”

You stared at the overgrown grass, the tall trees Mark loved to climb, the colorful picnic tables lined next to each other. Without turning to him, you finally spoke, “We just got back from the doctor.”

Mark stomped the heels of his yellow sneakers to stop the momentum of his swing. His eyes were wide. “You’re not–”

“I’m not dying,” you cut him off. “But I am sick.”

He didn’t say anything.

“I won’t be able to see much at night, my vision won’t be… it will take a lot of effort to adapt to what I have right now. Oh, and cherry on the sundae? I could go blind, like actually blind.” You bent your elbows on your knees. “Doctor said it’s going to be slow, which I don’t know how to feel about.”

Mark was silent, trying to think. It was hard to understand for someone so young. Kids and teenagers are prone to feeling immortal, untouchable, and they can’t wrap their heads around the concept of disease, especially when it’s not affecting them directly.

But then you hid your face in your hands. Your entire body shook with each sob as he heard you cry out to a God who failed you. 

And Mark understood. 

His fingers gripped tightly around the metal chains of the swing. He didn’t know how to comfort you right now. Should he hug you? Pat your back?

But he couldn’t bring himself to do those things. Not now. 

Instead he made a promise. 

“Y-you said it won’t be an instant thing, right?”

Vaguely, he saw you nod your head.

“That’s great then! W-we can make as many memories as we can before the worst case happens.”

You wiped your tears and looked at him. “What do you mean?”

“Make a list of all the things you want to see and experience, that way we can see all of them before… before you know.”

You gave him a small smile and leaned over to kiss his cheek.

He was taught that humans are weaker than his kind, but it was only after hearing about your disease did he understand. You’re weak. Delicate. Vulnerable. Getting his powers certainly didn’t help. You are too delicate. You can’t be left alone for too long. When he has a job that requires leaving for a planet that is lightyears away he takes you with him. But if it’s safer to keep you inside your home then there will be soldiers guarding every corner and servants answering your every beck and call. He doesn’t trust others to look after you, but he trusts your human body even less, it has already failed you. 

VILTRUMITE, flaxan, target

This is perfect! This way you’re all his. Sure, he feels bad that you lost something precious, but that’s why he is here–to fill the void. Mark makes you depend on him, makes it so that you cannot live in a world where he is not by your side. He scares away all your friends, isolates you from your family, convinces you that they’re tired of you, that you are too much work. But he’s here, he will protect you, provide for you, and keep you happy. And you are happy, or at the very least, satisfied. So you don’t ask him about what’s happening outside the home he built just for you. You pretend that you don’t notice how your devices cannot access the news anymore, or call anyone who wasn’t Mark. You no longer pester him for the cure that he promised you years ago. He is your everything now. 

full mask, maskless, SINISTER, no goggles, prisoner

He is understanding and kind, but he doesn’t treat you like you’re broken. He makes occasional blind jokes because he knows you can take it, that laughing at yourself and your situation helps. He is perfect. Too perfect for a Mark. Truth is that he is scared shitless of everything. One false move and he can lose you forever, not just to some idiot rebel or monster of the week, but to something as stupid as a wet floor. He’s not just concerned about your physical health but also your mental wellbeing. So he hires actors and builds a paradise on a different planet, an illusion of what you thought Earth is like, what Earth used to be. He doesn’t need shapeshifters, only aliens who speak human language and human slaves who want to be free from hard labor. 

head cap, MOHAWK, shiesty, OMNI

image lifted from: https://gamerant.com/invincible-all-alternate-dimension-invincibles-fates/

MASTERLIST | request rules | ask box

[gleafer]

A page from my 80s retro comic “COME WITH ME IF YOU WANT TO LIVE”

Next chapter dropping soooooon!

[13tinysocks]

date to the aquarium but it’s just phantom floating in some goo

This made me giggle

[webdiggerxxx]

*ೃ༄˚ੈ✩‧₊˚

[neechees]

Native American cradleboards.

Cree / Comanche / Seneca

Crow / Kutenai /Osage

Mohawk / Klikitat / Nez Perce

[claydough61]

[mellowmonsters]

🤡

[charishcherish]

I got a haircut yesterday.