vinnyvamppp

[vinnyvamppp]

💗I'll be good💗

18+

Mark Grayson x F!Reader

Summary: PATHETIC MARK GRAYSON

Word count: 1.3k

Tags: Smut, mlw, Male Sub, Teasing, Edging, Hand jobs, aftercare

You and mark hadn't had sex in weeks.

That was perfectly okay with you, in fact you hadn't even realized until he was barging in through the window unannounced, stumbling over himself before falling onto your bed. He was sprawled out on your mattress, dick straining against his pants, he wasted no time and quickly began begging for you to touch him.

"Really Grayson?" you grinned, eyes raking over his large frame, suddenly not as intimidating when he's desperately begging you to let him cum.

"Please-" he whined out, hips bucking upwards against nothing in frustration at the lack of attention.

"I haven't- I haven't came in weeks." He paused, looking away as he spoke again. "You said I wasn't allowed to- do it without you." he managed to mumble out, his face practically red at this point.

"Was not being able to cum for a few weeks really that agonizing for you?" you strode towards him as you spoke, stopping in front of him to run a hand up his thigh, his leg jerking back at the sudden contact.

His head fell back against the mattress and he closed his eyes, anticipating your touch.

Except it never came.

He slowly opened his eyes to see that you had actually gone back to doing something at your desk, leaving him alone on your bed, painfully hard.

Confused, he sat up, calling out your name questionably, as you continued ignoring him, typing away at something on your computer.

Taken aback by your sudden change in demeanor, he got up and walked over to you, awkwardly standing beside you like a lost puppy. Unsure of what to do, he hoped you would eventually notice and take charge, but you didn't.

"I-" he began before you cut him off sharply "Yes?" you asked, not bothering to even glance in his direction. "Please?" he pleaded, frustration growing evident in his tone, assuming you'd understand what he was asking for. You once again took no notice in his cry for attention.

For a moment you're about to give in, thinking you've pushed him too far, but then he's kneeling beneath you, eyes begging you to touch him as you met his gaze.

He was desperate for you.

His arm reached for you, hand grasping at your knee, turning you towards him in your chair, as he rested his cheek on your other knee.

"I'll do anything you want, just please-, please touch me- I need you." he whined, his body ached as he reached his limit, cock twitching against the confines of his jeans.

You grin, something sadistic behind your eyes as your foot raises to press against his crotch.

He's immediately curling into himself, head dipping down, as moans spill out from his mouth, one arm shooting out to grip your ankle as it pushes against him.

Your toes firmly on the bulge in his pants and you've already got him whimpering. "T-Thank you" he manages to say between heavy breaths.

The little relief he did get was quickly overshadowed by your relentless need to tease him, because before he knew it you had pulled your foot away, not bothering to let him finish.

He groaned at the loss of contact, eyes half lidded and clouded with pleasure. Frustrated, he resigned to lie on his back against the cold floor to try ground himself, but then your foot was back, pressing against his length.

You continued, scrolling mindlessly on your phone throughout everything, as he writhed on the floor beneath your foot. Every time he started to calm down you would start to tease him again to keep him hard. You watched him fall apart a bit more each time you pulled away, loving the defeated noises it pulled out of him.

After just a few hours mark was a moaning incoherent mess, tears staining his face, precum soaking through his jeans, he was practically running a fever by human standards.

He kept begging for you to let him cum, slurring his words, chest heaving as the ache in his dick grew absolutely excruciating, not being able to focus on anything else.

He was a mess.

It drove you crazy.

You couldn't hold yourself back anymore and got up from your chair, walking over to your bed and sitting down.

He looked up at you, exhausted, brows furrowed, as he took in shallow breaths.

"Do you wanna cum?" you asked innocently. His eyes light up and he practically jerks himself off the floor as he speaks "Yes- please" stumbling towards you and onto your soft bed.

"Are you gonna be good?" He's shaking with excitement as you speak, quickly stammering out a reply. "Yes, I promise, I'll be good- I'll be so good- please."

He's hardly managing to hold himself upright, as you press a soft hand against his chest, forcing him to lie back against your blankets, resting his weight on his forearms.

You reach down to undo his jeans and his breath hitches in his throat, eyes slamming shut. You smirk, slowly pulling his jeans down just enough to slide his stiff dick out from his boxers. Your slender fingers wrap around his length and his back arches.

"Ah- fuck-" he whines out from the sudden contact. His brows knitted together with a mix of pain and ecstasy, embarrassed he reaches one arm up to lay across his eyes, shielding his face from your view as best he could.

You start to stroke your hand up and down his length, the pads of your fingers delicately sliding across each vein, enjoying the way his cock would twitch against the feeling.

Instinctively, his hips try their best to keep up, attempting to thrust up into each stroke. His other hand gripping the sheets as you slide a soft thumb across his tip, collecting a drop of precum and spreading it down his cock.

"Mmm-" he moaned, struggling against you, his body starts to shy away from your hand, trying to escape the unbearable assault of pleasure on his nerves. You notice and your other hand immediately catches his hip, pinning him down as he twitched .

"Mm-ah- no" he hiccuped "I can't-" he begged, tears streaming down his face, his breath heavy and hot as you continued your brutal pace.

"It's- too much-" more precum flowing out of him as he cried. He raised his foot, placing it on the bed, attempting to get any leverage to break loose from your ruthless grip on him. Your hand followed after him, speeding up it's pace as his whimpers got louder.

He whined, hips stuttering as he came into your hand, you worked him through it as he kept leaking more. It took him an entire minute before he was able to form a full sentence again, and you finally allowed him a break from the relentless teasing.

You brushed a tender hand through his hair as his breathing began to slow, relaxing against your touch. You got up to get a wash cloth to help clean up the mess, you helped him out of his jeans as you wiped him down.

"Oh you don't have to-" he tried to speak before you cut him off, "I want to" was all you said as you smiled down at him. You made him feel so cared for, he couldn't help himself from smiling back, he sat up lips meeting yours in a kiss as you lifted a hand to gently cradle his cheek.

You broke the kiss, standing up to strip down, his face flushing as you laid down beside him adjusting beneath the blankets. When you were both settled in he turned towards you arms snaking around your waist, holding you tightly against his chest.

"I'm so happy that i get to be with you." he spoke, his voice full of genuine love. "Me too, Mark" you said, as he held you softly in his arms, you both slowly drifting to sleep.

[vinnyvamppp]

Hii! Could you please write sub Mohawk!Mark and sub Siniester!Mark threesome with fem!reader?

Submitting Two Marks For Review!

Note: NOWWW WERE SPEAKING MY LANGUAGE, been so long since I've done one of these. Sombody's getting pegged toniiiight! no, seriously. (Took me 3 days to do this one)

Warnings: Pegging, Dirty Talk, Threesome, Sub!Mohawk Mark, Sub!Sinister Mark, Dom!Reader, Scratching, Biting, Anal Sex, Eifell Tower Sex Position, Pussy Eating, Cuckholding, Porn w/o a Plot, Rough Sex, Insults (Bitch, Whore, Cumslut, etc), Freak Shit, etc. (If you get confused 'S' and 'M" differentiate the two!)

Mohawk!Mark, Dom!Fem Reader x Sinister!Mark

Word Count: 2,100

The air between you crackles with tension, thick enough to suffocate.

Mohawk Mark stands with his shoulders squared, hands flexing at his sides, like he’s trying to decide whether he wants to grab something or just cross his arms and pretend he’s not affected. His nostrils flare on a slow exhale, and his lips twitch. Not in a scowl this time, but something closer to amusement. Filthy amusement.

"Shit," he mutters, running a tongue over his teeth. "This what you wanted? Getting us all riled up just to watch?" You smirk. "That depends. Are you riled up, Mark?" His eyes flash, and this time, he grins. "Fuck, you’re bold." He shifts his weight, rolling his shoulders like he’s settling in. "I like that."

Sinister Mark hums from where he leans against the wall, his gaze flicking between you and his counterpart. He’s still got that knowing, lazy smirk on his face, but now there’s something a little darker in his stare. He sees where this is going. "Didn’t think I’d ever see you this easy, Mohawk," he taunts, tilting his head. "What’s wrong? Forget how to put up a fight?"

Mohawk Mark barks a laugh, sharp and shameless. "Fight?" He turns his head just enough to glare at Sinister, but it’s not a real glare—it’s something else. Something cocky? "Shit, man. Who said I was fighting?" That makes Sinister Mark pause.

Interesting.

You take a step forward, and just like before, both of them react—subtle, but enough for you to catch. Sinister Mark’s smirk twitches. Mohawk Mark’s pupils dilate. Neither of them back away. "Huh," you muse, tilting your head. "I expected more resistance." Mohawk Mark lets out a short breath—maybe a scoff, maybe a quiet laugh. His hands twitch again, but this time, you’re certain: it’s because he wants to do something. Grab something. Grab you, but you’re too much of a tease.

"Shit," he breathes, shaking his head. Then, slower, filthier— "You sure you want that?" Did you? Absolutely. In bed.

Sinister Mark exhales through his nose, tilting his chin down just slightly, eyes lidded. He’s still got the teasing streak, but now there’s something hungrier under it. "She’s good," he mutters, more to himself than anything. "Mmm, you must be so proud of yourself right now." His voice is sweet, almost doting, but his smirk is still razor-sharp.

Mohawk Mark exhales sharply, eyes locked onto yours. His smirk is still there, but it’s tight at the edges. Controlled. Barely. You could push further. You will push further. And the best part is they want you to.

And this time, they fucking know it.

You lean in close, your dripping such dirty words in a coat of honey. "I'm going to fuck you both," you whisper, already contemplating you next move. "I'm going to use your bodies for my pleasure until you're both begging for more." His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, usually he was the one prodding holes until they oozed with arousal. To see you in such a light made it all the better, he loved to experiment and finally met his match. A strangled groan escaped his lips. "You fucking bitch," he rasps, but there's no heat behind it. It's all desire, all want. You chuckle darkly, his hand resting against the band of his boxers. "Strap-on," you command, looking over at S Mark. "Now." Mark's smirk turns into a grin, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Yes ma'am," he purrs, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He reaches into the nearby drawer and pulls out a large strap-on. The size was just begging to overstimulate someone's prostate. "Here you go, sweetheart." You snatch it from his hand, not bothering to look at him as you turn back to Mark. "Strip," you order, your voice leaving no room for argument. M Mark doesn't even hesitate. He shoves down his undergarments, veins running up his pubic area. His feet jutting out, kicking them aside until he's standing naked and hard in front of you. His dick was practically twitching with anticipation. "Always knew you had a big ego, Mohawk, but I didn’t think you had the assets to back it up." Sinister Mark mutters from behind you, his eyes roaming over Mohawk Mark's body. "You're such a fucking slut for this." Mohawk Mark snarls at him, but there's no real venom behind it. He's too focused on you, on the way you're looking at him like he's a piece of meat. You don't waste any time. You step forward and wrap your hand around his cock, squeezing hard enough to make him grunt. "That's right," you purr, stroking him slowly. "You're going to be a good little slut for me." Mark's head falls back against the wall, his eyes fluttering closed as he loses himself in your touch. "Holy shit, yes." he moans, his hips bucking into your hand. "Fuck… more." "Shhh," you hush him, moving your hand away from his cock and bringing it to his lips. "I'm in charge here." Mark opens his mouth without hesitation, sucking your fingers deep into his throat. His tongue swirls around them, his lips tight and wet as he hums around your digits. His time housing a harem provided him with sexual prowess. "That's it," you coo, your other hand coming up to grip his Mohawk. "Such a good little cockslut." The other Mark watches from behind you, his eyes dark and hungry. His hand is moving over the front of his pants, rubbing himself through the fabric. "You’re really going to make him beg? shit." His grin widens, all mock sympathy. "I think I’m starting to like you." You pull your fingers out of Mark's mouth and turn to face Sinister Mark, a sweetened grin on your face. "Oh, he's going to beg, and so will you." you promise. "But first..." You turn back to Mohawk Mark and grab the strap-on from Sinister Mark's hand. "Get on the bed," you command, shoving him towards the mattress. "On your hands and knees." Mark relishes in this, almost pervertedly so. He does as he’s told, moving towards the bed and assuming the position. His fingers firmly stroked his cock as he watched you, tongue flicking across his lips. He looks like a predator ready to pounce, all raw power and barely contained energy. You follow after him, taking a moment to admire the view before stepping up behind him and buckling the strap-on around your waist. Pressing the thick silicone cock with a puckering hole. Light spindles of hair peppered it deliciously. He tenses, his back and ab muscles rippling beneath his skin as he braces himself. "Easy now," you drawl, rubbing the head of the strap-on teasingly against his rim. "I know how much you love having something big and hard inside you."

"Fuck you," Mark grits out, but again there's no heat behind it. "Language," you chide playfully, before slamming my hips forward, burying the thick cock deep inside him in one hard thrust. You gave him little time to adjust, his head falling back as he groaned through gritted teeth, fingers balling into fists. “How’s it feel to get a taste of your own medicine?” You asked rhetorically, "Shit—" he exhales, a sharp, breathy laugh leaving his lips as he tilts his head back, eyes dark with something wild. "Fuckin’ bitter… but I think I like it." His tongue drags over his bottom lip, and he grins, all teeth. "You gonna keep shoving it inside, or you scared I’ll start beggin’ for more?" Without responding, you start to move, pounding into him with hard, fast strokes. The wet, pornographic sound of flesh colliding fills the room, mixing with Mark's moans and your own grunts of effort. Your hips quickly burn with the effort to stimulate the viltrumite and your fingertips scratch imprints into his waist. His teeth clacked together with each thrust, his octave growing sluttier by the second.

Behind you, Sinister Mark watches with dark eyes, his hand moving faster over his clothed cock, barely containing himself. "Look at him," he murmurs, his voice thick with arousal. "Taking that dick like he was made for it." You spare him a glance over your shoulder, "Why don't you come closer and get a better look?" S Mark's eyes flash, and he steps forward, kneeling behind you on the bed. "With pleasure," he purrs, his hands coming up to grip your ass cheeks, spreading them wide.

You moan as you feel his hot breath ghost over your exposed hole, your hips stuttering in their rhythm. "Fuck," you gasp, "That's it. Get in there and eat that pussy like the good little bitch you are."

Sinister Mark chuckles darkly, his fingers digging into your flesh hard enough to bruise. "As you wish," he murmurs, before diving in, his tongue delving deep into your cunt. The timing was impeccable, his tongue lapping each time you pulled out.

"Oh fuck!" you cry out, my head falling back as Sinister Mark's skilled mouth works over your sensitive flesh. His tongue swirls and thrusts, licking up your juices like a man starved. You were beyond pleased, only greed eating away at you now.

Behind you, Mark's hand slips under your body, wrapping around Mohawk Mark's weeping cock and stroking him in time with your thrusts. "Feel good?" Sinister Mark asks mockingly. "Getting fucked like the pathetic little whore you are?" Mohawk Mark snarls in response, bucking into S Mark's hand. "Shut the fuck up," he growls. "I'm not the only one getting used here."

Sinister Mark just laughs, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine. "You're right," he admits, pulling back just long enough to speak before diving back in. "I'm getting used too." His tongue circles your clit, flicking the sensitive bud rapidly. His satisfied groans echoed as if receiving head himself. You're so close, teetering on the edge of your orgasm.

"Fuck fuck fuck," you chant, hips pistoning wildly now as you chase your release. "Gonna cum! Gonna fucking cum!" Mark redoubles his efforts, sucking hard on your clit as he plunges two fingers deep inside you. That's all it takes. You groan through your orgasm, determined to still drive them wild. You pull all the way out, sighing as if exhausted before plundering back into his. His spine curved slightly as his fingers clawed into the bedsheets with a strangled groan. Before you, Mohawk Mark groans, his cock twitching in Sinister Mark's grip as he edges closer to his own climax. "That's it,"  You coax watching as with a broken moan, his eyelid twitches cumming with a deep growl, his cock pulsing in Mark's hand as he spills his load all over the sheets. "Shit!" he gasps, his body shaking with the force of his orgasm. His skin was flushed, unusual sweat beading against his flesh, his hole practically leaking as it gripped your plastic dick, his mohawk astray.

You take a moment to catch your breath before pulling out of Mark's slack hole and turning to face the other Mark. His face is shiny with your juices, and staring up at you expectantly. "Your turn," you purr, reaching out to unbuckle the strap-on and tossing it aside.

Mark's eyebrows raise slightly, but he doesn't argue. He lies back on the bed, propping himself up on his elbows as he spreads his legs invitingly. "Be gentle with me," he teases, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You? Gentle?" You scoff, crawling up the bed towards him. "I don't think so." Your fingers diligently work him out of his slacks, pre-cum already seeping through the layers of fabric. You grinned, he seemed to have caught the memo. Such a condescending prick, yet look at you. Pathetic. It springs up, thick and angry-looking, the tip already oozing. Lifting his legs and pressing his thighs toward his chest—you leave him open, vulnerable, and at your mercy as you settle into place. You waste no time squatting atop thighs and impaling yourself on him, sinking down to the hilt in one smooth motion.

"Fuck... yes!" Mark cries out, his head falling back as he's enveloped in your tight heat. "So fucking good." He groaned, clearly waiting for this moment like it was his dying wish.

You immediately set a rhythm, gyrating as you please. Your hips rise and fall, taking him deep each time as you chase another orgasm. Behind you, Mohawk Mark watches, his spent cock already starting to fill again as he takes in the sight of you riding S Mark.

"That's it," Mark murmurs, his voice low and thick with arousal. "Fuck him like the cock-hungry slut you are." You moan in response, your cunt clamping down around Mark's shaft as if to snap it in half. He hissed, eyelids blinking rapidly as he started to writhe. His grin faltered, his breath catching in his throat as his fingers dug into whatever they could grasp. For once, words failed him. No sharp quip, no smug remark, just a ragged exhale as his body betrayed him, shuddering under a pleasure he wasn’t used to receiving. His chest rose and fell unevenly, eyes blown wide, and for the first time, that wicked smile of his trembled at the corners.

"Want to switch?" S Mark asks breathlessly from below, reading your mind. He clearly didn't intend to anytime soon, eyes losing focus as he could barely function. Mark growls at the taunt, but he doesn't deny it. He moves closer, his hand wrapping around your chin possessively as he pulls you into a filthy kiss. "Oh, I'll give it to her alright," he promises darkly against your lips, nipping the plump flesh. "Gonna fuck her so hard she'll be feeling it for days." You doubt it. ... Later that night! From giving head to being fucked by two cocks at once, you didn't loosen the leash on either of them. Three position changes later you collapse together in a sweaty tangle of limbs, all three of you panting and spent. But even through the haze of post-orgasmic bliss, you can't help but feel a sense of triumph. You did it - you took control and made them submit to your will. And judging by the satisfied grins on their faces, they didn't hate it one bit. Your body did though. All movements stiffened to hide your muscles practically vibrating. Overall, the review rating is 10/10.

I always feel the need to add an a/n bc I have so much to say after ts, but I'm actually— speechless.

[vinnyvamppp]

I NEED A FIC OF THE NO GOGGLES MARK VARIANT!!!

specifically make him THAT KINDA FREAK we already know he loves to toy with others (from his battle with the Guards of the Globe) and is crazy asf with a sense of dark humor. My fic idea is where he’s with his gf and this is their first time having sex tg and she doesn’t know about his kinks or anything since she would just take his comments of him telling her to ‘try to choke him’ or basically to inflict pain on each other as a joke.

Slap Me Silly

Note: This is yummy, we like this, we NEED this. I've seen maybe two fics have elements of this, so lemme just—slide myself in. (the pic is a hint SOMEONE TIE HIM UP)

Warnings: Nipple play (most male receiving), Switch Lenless!Mark (YOU CAN'T TELL ME HE DOESN'T OCCASSIONALLY BOTTOM), Dom!Reader, Riding, Tit Squeezing, Biting, Dark Humor, Choking, Degrading, "Good Boy", Slapping, Dirty Talk, Porn w a Plot, Smut, and ofc the over usage of 'Dude'.

No Goggles/Lensless!Mark x Dom!Fem Reader

Word Count: 2,303

The apartment is quiet, save for the occasional hum of traffic outside and the soft rustle of fabric as you shift on the couch. Mark is stretched out beside you, legs spread like he owns the place—because, in his mind, he does. His grin is lazy, all teeth, and his dark eyes flick toward you with that ever-present glint of mischief.

“You keep staring at me like that, babe,” he murmurs, tilting his head against the couch cushion, “and I’m gonna start thinking you actually like me.” You roll your eyes, biting back a smile. “God forbid.” He chuckles, low and amused, and suddenly he’s closer—leaning in like he’s got a secret to tell. “Nah, I think you do,” he teases, his breath warm against your jaw. “Like, a lot.” You scoff, pushing at his chest. “You wish.” Mark lets himself fall back dramatically, spreading his arms out like he’s been struck. “Right in the heart. Dude! That was brutal.” Rolling your eyes, you reply. “You’ll live,” you deadpan.

“Oh, I always live.” He winks, and for a second, there’s something in his expression, something dark and knowing, a reminder of just how much weight those words actually carry. But then it’s gone, replaced by that ever-present smugness. His fingers drum against his thigh. “Y’know, I’ve been thinking.”

“Dangerous.”

“Ha. Ha.” He smirks. “No, but really—since we’re both so hopelessly in love or whatever—” You snort, but he ignores you. “—don’t you think it’s weird that we haven’t, y’know, done anything yet?” His eyebrows lift, feigning innocence. “Not that I’m complaining. I like a good slow burn. Gets me all antsy and horny.” Your stomach tightens. It’s not like you haven’t thought about it. Mark is—well, Mark. Infuriating, cocky, always pushing just to see how far he can go. But he’s also magnetic in a way that makes it impossible to look away. And when he wants something? He gets it.

Still, you manage to play it cool. “I figured you’d explode if you went more than a week without getting laid.” Mark grins, tilting his head. “I do like explosions.”

You shake your head, but before you can throw another sarcastic remark his way, he moves. Fast. Not using his full speed—he’s learned his lesson about freaking you out like that—but enough to make your breath hitch as he’s suddenly towering over you, hands braced on either side of your hips. “Wanna hear something funny?” he asks, voice dropping just enough to make your pulse quicken.

You swallow. “That depends.” His fingers trail up your arm, barely touching, just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “You remember all those times I told you to try and choke or slap me?” You let out a brief chuckle. “You mean when you were being weird?” Mark hums, lips twitching like he’s holding back a laugh. “See, that’s the thing—you think I was joking.”

Your breath catches. His eyes are half-lidded now, watching you with something between amusement and hunger. “…You weren’t?” Mark smirks. “Dude. You have no idea.” He leans in, brushing his nose against yours. You stare at him for a second, searching his face for any sign that he’s messing with you. Nothing. Just that same cocky, lopsided smirk, like he knows something you don’t. His grin progressively widens as you open your mouth to speak, “You have to be kidding.” Mark tilts his head, feigning offense. “Why would I joke about something so serious? Dude, I’m hurt.” Here he goes again with the dramatics. “Oh, I’ll hurt you, alright.” The words leave your mouth before you can grasp them, but Mark’s eyes light up like you just handed him a winning lottery ticket.

His lips part slightly, tongue flicking out to wet them. “Please do.” You let out a laugh—sharp, disbelieving. This idiot. He’s always like this. Pushing buttons just to see what happens. You stared, more interested than before, your head shaking. “You’re insane.” Mark doesn’t miss a beat. “And you love it.”

You roll your eyes and, without thinking, lift your hand and smack him across the face. A sharp pop echoed as your palm struck his cheek, snapping his head to the side. Not hard, just enough to wipe that smug look off him. Or, well. That was the intention. Because instead of looking shocked or offended, Mark just stares at you. Slow blinks. Chest rising and falling a little too deliberately. “…Holy shit.” He gasps, making you hesitate.

He lets out a breathy laugh, touching his cheek where you slapped him. Then, with a grin that is way too excited for comfort, he looks back at you. “Dude.” His dark eyes go heavy-lidded, lips parting slightly as he exhales slowly, shaky, and wrecked like you just did something unspeakably good to him, and he’s already desperate for more. You blink. “What?”

“Do that again.”

You pull back slightly in hesitation, wondering how you even scored this crazy fuck. Taking notice, Mark clicks his tongue, shaking his head like you just deeply disappointed him. “C’mon, Dude. Don’t be like that.” He leans in again, voice dipping lower. “I liked it.” Your stomach flips. You open your mouth two seconds away from calling him an absolute freak, but Mark beats you to it. “See, this is why I keep you around,” he muses, like he’s talking to himself. “You get me.” He rasps with an estranged fascination, seemingly savoring the sting against his cheek. “I literally do not—”

“—you do, though.” He gestures vaguely. “Even if you pretend you don’t. Which is, like, really cute, by the way.” He pauses dramatically with a slight sing song “And hot.” You exhale through your nose. Okay. Fine. He wants to be weird? You can be weirder. So, with the most exaggerated sigh you can manage, you lift your hand and slap him again. This time, it’s harder. The slap lands sharp and sudden, a crisp crack that echoes in the quiet room. His skin is warm under your palm, the impact sending a fleeting sting through your fingers, while the faintest thrum of satisfaction lingers in the air between you. Mark's head tilts slightly from the force, but the way he laughs is low, throaty, and giddy. The kind that sends something hot and electric through your spine. His gaze snaps back to you, darker now. “Oh, yeah,” he breathes, voice thick with something you don’t quite know how to name yet. “That’s the stuff.” Your gaze flickered lower, his hips fidgeting. He was hard.

Mark leans in, close enough that you can feel the heat of his breath against your lips. He’s still grinning like he’s just won the lottery, panting like an excited mutt before he whispers, “…Your turn.” You took this as an invitation to explore his other kinks, his willingness empowering you like never before. The space between you ceased to exist in an instant, your bodies pulled together with an urgency that set your skin ablaze, his lips claiming yours like a force of nature. Groans filled the space within your mouths, his sloppy kisses trailing lower over your neck. You deserved such romance for your first time, but his body was already seething for more. His hand reaches forward, fingers tingling with excitement as they curl around your throat. He forces you down against the couch, the pressure against your windpipe causing you to gasp. Before he could do more your hand lashes out, striking his cheek with a resounding slap. He paused, welcoming the change from his usual dominance. "Fuck yeah," he growls, his voice thick and eager. "Don't hold back, babe."

Emboldened further, you push him back and climb onto his lap, straddling his hips. You can feel his hard already weeping cock pressing against your clothed sex, the heat of him seeping through the thin fabric of your panties. You grab his throat, squeezing just enough to make him gasp. "You like this, don't you? Being used like a little bitch?" You insulted, testing the waters.

Mark's eyes flutter closed as he lets out a shuddering moan. "Yes," he hisses, his hips bucking up against you. "I fucking love it." His hands grip your thighs tightly, fingers digging into your skin.

You tighten your grip on his throat, feeling his pulse jump under your palm. "Beg for it," you demand, grinding your cunt against his straining erection. "Beg me to choke you while I ride your cock." Mark's eyes snap open, gleaming with satisfaction. "Please," he rasps, his voice strained from your hold. "Please, please, choke me while you use my dick. I want to feel you squeeze the air from my lungs as you cum all over me."

A thrill runs through you at his words, at the complete submission and desperation in his voice. You release his throat, only to fist your hand in his hair, yanking his head back. "Good boy," you purr, before crushing your lips against his in a fervent kiss. You rake your nails down his skin, leaving angry red lines in their wake.

You whimper into his mouth, his hands moving to your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh. You can feel him throbbing against you, his cock leaking pre-cum into his pants. Breaking the kiss, you lean back and hastily remove your top, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. His fingers follow suit, bringing his shirt over his head as he refuses to blink even once. "Fuck yes, Mistress." He groans, voice strained as his eyes glued to your tits. "You're so goddamn sexy." His lips nearly prepared to worship you.

It was odd, you stared down at him enjoying the power you have over him. He could easily turn the tides at any moment, but he was so willing to fuck you with such courtesy. Your fingers gently tapped against his throat, just threatening, begging him to make a move that would cause your grip to tighten. Mark immediately sits back, panting and red-cheeked. You lift your hips, his hands shove down your panties and help you kick them off. Then, with a courage-building sigh, you line up his cock with your dripping entrance. Mark groans, his hands flying to your hips. "Need to feel your tight pussy around my cock." Without warning, he slams you down onto him, taking him to the hilt in one smooth motion. You both groan at the sudden intrusion, Mark's head falling back as his fingers dig into your hips hard enough to bruise. "Oh god," you moan, savoring the feeling of him stretching you open. "You're so fucking big, where were you hiding this thing?!"

"I'm gonna fill this pussy up so good," Mark declares between giggles, his hips starting to move beneath you. "Gonna pump you full of my cum until it's leaking out of you." The dirty words only spur you on. You start to ride him fast, your hips slamming down onto him as you chase your pleasure, barely allowing yourself to breathe. Your hand never leaves his throat, tightening and loosening in time with your movements. Mark's face is flushed, his eyes glassy with lust as he bucks up into you, meeting you thrust for thrust.

"Harder," you demand, squeezing his throat tighter, his eyes rolling back. "F-fuck me harder." Mark lets out a choked groan, but does as he's told, slamming up into you with renewed vigor. The new angle has him hitting depths you didn't know existed, making stars burst behind your eyelids with each thrust. You can feel the pressure building inside you, coiling tighter and tighter as he pounds into your g-spot. Releasing him from your ever-desired grip, he protests, his hips punctuating as you let out a yelp. “Dude..!” He whines, exasperated before a resounding clap echoes against his cheek, his face growing warm as blood swelled. “Again! Again…!” He encouraged, and you followed suit devilering smack after smack. The feeling only rousing him more as his hips pressed further.

Arching your back forward, your tongue finds the blistering streaks left from your nails. Soothing them with the soothing stroke of the muscle, you lick over his nipples, teeth tugging on them gently. The small buds hardened slightly from the cold air, and his grunt echoed from above. “Holy shit... yes!” Coming up for air, he returns the favor, hands leaving your ass and latching onto your tits as he squeezes them like stress balls. It's painful, he knows but he attones as his thumb traces rings around your areolas causing mild pleasure.

Your hands returned to his throat, tightening like a vice. With a strangled chuckle, his cock twitched inside you as he floods your pussy with his hot seed. The feeling of him pulsing inside you, the overwhelming sensations overloading your senses, and the obscene squelching sounds of his cum filling you pushes you over the edge. You throw your head back with a scream as your orgasm crashes over you, your cunt spasming as you gasp. Were orgasms always meant to feel this strong?

Mark groans as he feels you contracting around him. "Milk my cock dry. Take every last drop." You continue to ride him through your climax, grinding your clit against his pelvis until the last waves of pleasure fade away. When you finally collapse against his chest, both of you are panting and covered in sweat.

You could barely catch your breath when he spoke up. "Dude, we're definitely doing that again," you murmur against his chest, exhausted, he chuckles, his chest vibrating beneath you. "Hell yeah we are." He says to himself. Without missing another beat, you're suddenly flipped over, his cock hardened with renewed energy. "Ready for round two?" He asks, tracing patterns against your calves as he spreads your legs over his shoulders. Now it was truly your turn.

Can you guys tell I love submissive or freaky men? Hopefully, this fulfills your request!

[vinnyvamppp]

Hello love , been lurking around ur work for a while and am so love with what you write 😘😘😘🥰😍. Anyways I have a little request to ask , if you could write a powerpuff girl (buttercup) reader . She is described as a "tough hotheaded tomboy". Her signature color is lime green and her personality ingredient is "spice". Her powers include Superhuman Strength , Superhuman Speed, Superhuman Durability (shes basically near invulnerability) , Superhuman Stamina ,Flight, Heat Vision , Ability to breathe and survive in space , Energy projection (bright green)Super senses (sight and hearing)Night Vision, Tornado Generation, Fire generation (green) [Buttercup can generate fire through her hands]X-ray vision , Invulnerability against extreme temperatures , Supersonic Screaming. Other signature abilities she displays are Ball Blast, Black Hurricane, Green Laser Beams, Energy Orb (colored light green), Thunder Clap.

She would not be down with the guardians being so damn weak that wouldn't even bother to work with them , but it would be so fun to see their reactions , main mark , and cecil to her not only better powers but also her tough girl personality. She in some moments is heavily underestimated because she's seen as extremely cute and princess like and that gets her blood boiling to the point she has to prove them wrong ( which she always does)

Am not gonna sugarcoat it she is dominating the invincible war , as she will be able to basically go against most of the invincible variants and she about that life and sinceshe'sknown to never back down from any fight no matter how powerful the enemy thinks they are , but I mainly wanna see her go against sinister mark , Mohawk mark and lensless mark (if you can write her fight against them pls) .

Can't wait to see what you'll do with this .🥰🥰😘

Spice & Distruction (ง'̀-'́)ง

Warnings: Nothing aside from the usual gore or violence. (Couldn't find a worthy picture for this UGH!)

Note: Oh, I like this one. An overpowered bad bitch that constantly overachieves because -- why not? I got you, took some creative liberties, JUST IN CASE send in another ask if you want it to be longer or a pt2 using more of her powers! Word Count: 1,600 Invincible!Variants x Buttercup!Reader

The city burns below you. Columns of black smoke curl into the sky, blotting out the sun. The skyline is shattered—skyscrapers missing their tops, entire blocks reduced to craters. Blood stains the streets. Screams echo between the ruins. Buildings remain tilted, each vibration from footsteps threatening to topple them over. The skies were set ablaze, a scent of blood and perish lingering in the humid air. And above it all? The Invincible War rages on.

Hundreds of Mark Grayson variants are tearing the world apart, ripping through defenses like wet paper. The Guardians of the Globe, Earth’s so-called strongest heroes are getting obliterated. Monster Girl’s body lies motionless, halfway through her transformation. Rex Splode? Crushed. Dupli-Kate’s been rag-dolled through a building, and even Mark, the real one, is stretching thin in assisting against his murderous duplicates.

Pathetic.

Your eyes scan the scenery, bored after obliterating such challenges with ease. You hover in place, arms crossed, neon-green energy crackling around you like wildfire, its crackles threatening to descend at any moment. The vibrancy in the green hue of your costume made you a noticeable target. Perfect. Cecil’s voice crackles in your earpiece. “We need backup at—.” You roll your eyes. “Shut up, Cecil.” You grit.

Then you dive, cutting through the air like a knife. For Mohawk Mark, with your abilities, easy diff. Your target stands amidst the carnage, a towering, muscle-bound Mark Grayson with a jagged mohawk. His bloodstained fists flex at his sides and at his feet? Bulletproof, broken, and groaning per usual.

Mohawk Mark plants a boot on Bulletproof’s chest, grinding him into the pavement. A low chuckle rumbles from his throat. Yeah, no. “Yo, Knucklehead,” you call. He barely turns before—.

BOOM.

Your fist slams into his jaw. A sonic boom erupts.

Mohawk Mark is launched like a missile, his body smashing through two skyscrapers, leaving a trail of shattered glass and bent steel in his wake. By the time he skids to a stop, half a city block has been destroyed. You land in front of him, dusting off your knuckles. “Damn. That all you got?”

A deep, inhuman growl rumbles from his throat. Mohawk Mark rises from the rubble, brown eyes darkening. His lips curl into a sneer as he wipes blood from his mouth. “Little shit, you just made the biggest mistake of your life,” he snarls. Lunging at you like a rabid animal.

His fist swings, blurring the air around it, fast enough to shatter concrete on impact. You don’t dodge. You catch it. It would be enough to reduce someone to a bludgeoned mess. The street beneath you fractures on impact. The sheer force sends cracks spider-webbing across the pavement. But you don’t move. His eyes widen just a fraction before your grip tightens around his fist. His bones creak. His jaw ticks as he attempts to resist you in a classic game of strength. You smirk. “Try harder.” And then, with a single motion, you twist his arm—

SNAP.

The sickening crack of bone echoes through the street. Mohawk Mark howls in agony, his entire body jerking from the pain. Before he can recover, your other hand ignites a bright, emerald-green flame roaring to life in your palm. His eyes go wide. Though this is what he wanted isn't it? A challenge? Too bad he was on the receiving end.

“Night-night,” you taunt, then blast him point-blank. The explosion is instantaneous. A shockwave obliterates everything within a two-block radius. Cars flip. Buildings sway. Flames consume the pavement as Mohawk Mark’s body is launched sky-high, disappearing into the clouds.

Gone.

You shake your head. “Too easy.”

Against Lensless Mark, its a medium diff, but nothing you couldn’t handle.

A low whistle cuts through the destruction. You don’t need to turn around. You already know. Lensless Mark.

He stands atop a collapsed building, arms loose at his sides, head tilted in amusement. No goggles. A mask. Just those cold, giddy eyes staring into you. Like you’re something to dissect. His voice is smooth, almost lazy. “Huh. Dude! You’re still standing.”

You roll your shoulders, cracking your neck. “You gonna stare all day, or—”

THWACK.

He’s on you in a blink. You barely tilt your head before his fist slices past your cheek so close it burns. You counter. Your Thunder Clap erupts like a bomb. A wave of force flattens an entire block. Windows explode. Asphalt rips apart like paper. Lensless Mark is blasted back, flipping mid-air before catching himself. He lands with a skid, leaving deep trenches in the pavement.

And yet, he’s smiling. Taunting even as he cups his face within his hand. “Cute,” he murmurs, wiping blood from his lip. “Let’s see how long you last.” Then, he vanishes. No sound. No wind. Nothing. Your eyes barely register movement before—.

FAWUMP.

His fist buries into your stomach. A shockwave detonates around you. The sheer force launches you through six buildings in a row, concrete and steel shattering on impact. You slam into the side of a skyscraper, embedding deep into it. Your ribs ache. Your jaw tightens.

Oh, hell no. Second offense after calling you cute within the first few minutes. He’s done for.

You ignite mid-air, green flames roaring to life around you. Your fingers spark, gathering energy into a pulsing, neon-green orb. You grin. “My turn.” Then, you hurl the Ball Blast. The explosion is blinding. A nuclear-green fireball engulfs the entire street. By the time the dust clears?

Lensless Mark is on his knees, coughing blood. His hands tremble as he tries to stand. You land in front of him, arms crossed. “Still think I’m cute?” you asked, feet slowly carrying you towards him. He wheezes. Glares. Then, lurched one last time. Big mistake.

Your eyes flash. Twin green laser beams punch straight through his chest. His body locks up. His breath stutters. He stares at you, mouth open before collapsing.

Game over.

For Sinister Mark, you might’ve finally met your match.

A slow clap echoes from above. You look up to see Sinister Mark. Truly an unorthodox and brutal version of the Mark you knew.  He floats in the firelight, arms crossed, face grinning with unreadable eyes. Studying you.

He’s the only one who didn’t rush in like a brainless brute. He’s watching. Calculating. “You’re different,” he finally says, voice like steel. You smirk. “And you’re not as dumb as you look.”

His lips twitch, almost like he’s entertained. Then he moves. Faster than anyone before him. You barely register the attack before his fist slams into your stomach. The moment his fist met your ribs, he felt the give of muscle beneath his knuckles, you heard the wet thud of the impact.

CRAAAAACK.

The pressure rips through the entire city. Buildings collapse. The sky shatters. Your body rockets through mountains. Pain pulses through your ribs and adrenaline surges, cushioning the blows.

You stop yourself mid-air, blood dripping from your lip. You wipe it off with the back of your hand. He approached you, flight only stopping when he was within a reasonable distance. That smile creased his cheeks in amusement. Instead, you return a grin of your own. “Oh, you are gonna be fun.”

You launch, sending an ear-drilling scream in his direction as he vibrates. He was tough, but every environment was your domain and it would bow to your will. ... REACTIONSSSS

The battlefield is silent. No more shockwaves. No more fists colliding at hypersonic speeds. No more Invincible war variants tearing through the air. Just the whine of the wind as it howls through a city that barely exists. The other heroes managed to blow a hole through the gaping damage caused, but not without failure.

Skyscrapers? Leveled. Streets? Shattered, scorched, and barely recognizable. The very foundation of the Earth itself has been cracked open, glowing fissures spreading from the sheer impact of the fight. Smoke billows into the night sky, the stars barely visible through the debris still falling like radioactive snow. People began forming shelters as homes were lost. You were bruised, battered even, but still standing, that's what mattered most.

Mark hovers above the destruction, completely speechless. This wasn’t just a battlefield, this was a massacre. His eyes scan the carnage below, there were craters large enough to be seen from orbit, remnants of entire blocks reduced to molten rubble, the burnt-out skeletons of skyscrapers barely holding onto their last foundations. And the bodies. Mohawk Mark? Gone. Lensless Mark? Gone. Sinister Mark? Fucking obliterated or disappeared to who knows where. Not a trace of them left.

His stomach twists. It’s not fear. Not exactly. But it’s something. Something close. He finally speaks, voice hoarse. “...What the fuck.” You don’t even look at him. Just crack your neck, letting out a breath that warps the air from the sheer heat still radiating off your body.

“You’re welcome,” you mutter.

Mark... doesn’t even know what to say to that.

Cecil watches through a satellite feed, eyes narrowed, face unreadable. Around him, the Pentagon’s war room is in chaos. Analysts are frantically running calculations. Field agents are double-checking sensor data because the readings don’t make sense. Some poor bastard in the back is throwing up after seeing the destruction.

But Cecil? He just takes a slow, steady breath, partially in relief. He doesn’t flinch at the mushroom cloud of energy still lingering where Sinister Mark used to be. He doesn’t react to the seismic activity that your fight triggered, or the fact that the city’s entire power grid is fried from the electromagnetic pulses generated by your attacks.

He just exhales. “…Son of a bitch.” Donald, standing nearby, clears his throat. “Sir, the damage assessment—”

“I know the damn assessment.”

Cecil’s fingers tap against the table, his mind already racing. Because this? This changes everything. You weren’t just stronger than the variants. You were dominant. You tore through them and you were still standing. “Jesus Christ,” Donald mutters under his breath. “If she ever decides to turn against us—” Cecil gives him a sharp look. “Then we better pray she doesn’t.” I swear I finished this yesterday and spent an hour unable to find an image deserving of this story. I HOPE WHOEVER REQUESTED ENJOYS THISSS.

[vinnyvamppp]

HEAR ME OUTTT

You should write for Nolan Grayson, the drought for fics w/him are very much real 😭

The Replacement PT 1

NOTE: I'VE BEEN WANTING TO BUT THE AMOUNT OF MARK GRAYSON OR INVINCIVLE VARIANT REQUESTS I HAVE ARE MAKING MY FINGERS CRAMP. With that being said, I present to you:

Synopsis: Earth has made him comfortable. Weak, even. His half-human son may never be strong enough to carry the Viltrumite legacy, and his pet or wife is a distraction he can no longer afford. But you offer him a solution: a true heir.

Warnings: Considerations of Cheating, Drama, Childhood Friends, Changes to Plot For Convenience, Pre-Invincible Timeline, Nolan's Beginnings To Conquering Earth, AND DW HE STILL HAS HIS LOVING FAMILY. Word Count: 1,493

Omni-Man/Nolan Grayson x Viltrumite!Reader

The air was thin at this altitude, but it was nothing to you. Standing on the snow-dusted peak, your loincloth barely moved in the wind, a contrast to the thoughts swirling around you. Below, the world stretched in all directions, so vulnerable, so fragile.

"You've been here for too long, Nolan." Your voice was measured, but sharp enough to carve through the silence. Across from you, Nolan Grayson stood with his arms crossed, his expression impassive, but you knew better. He had always been good at masking his thoughts, but you had centuries of experience reading him. His stance, the way his fingers subtly tensed, told you everything.

"I don’t need a reminder," he replied, his voice laced with something close to amusement. "I assume you didn’t travel across the galaxy just to lecture me?" You took a step forward, tilting your head. "No. I came because your absence has been noted."

His brow twitched, just slightly. Even after all these years, Viltrumites hated the idea of being monitored. "They sent you?" You scoffed. "They don't know I'm here." Now, that got his attention. His eyes, those sharp, calculating things, narrowed as he studied you. “And why would you withhold that information?”

"Because I know you, Nolan. Better than they do." You folded your arms, mirroring his stance. "I know why you’re hesitating." For a moment, he said nothing. You let the silence stretch between you, let him wrestle with the implications. It wasn't hesitation from weakness. No, that wasn’t Nolan. But sentimentality? Attachment? Those were cracks in his foundation, and cracks were dangerous.

Finally, he exhaled through his nose. "You think I’ve gone soft?" He asked, your lips pursing momentarily in thought. "I think you’ve gone comfortable," you corrected, your gaze flicking toward the horizon where a city pulsed with artificial lights. "This planet is changing you. The longer you stay, the harder it will be to finish what you started."

He smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "You sound like Thragg." That name sent a flicker of irritation crawling down your skin. "Thragg wouldn't have given you the courtesy of a conversation." His amusement faded. He knew that was true.

You took another step, closing the distance between you. "You need an anchor, Nolan. A reason to return to Viltrum when this mission is complete. And her—" your lip curled slightly as you referenced the human woman, Debbie, "—is not it." His eyes narrowed. "Careful."

"Don’t pretend you care," you retorted, undeterred. "A convenience? What is she to you, Nolan?" Silence. “She’s nothing compared to us—compared to what we are.” He began his admission, “But I allowed myself to pretend otherwise. A weakness. She is nothing more than that, and she never was.” His fingers twitched at his side, mulling over the betrayal in his words.

"You may think you've bought yourself time, but Earth won't make you stronger, and neither will playing house with a human," you continued. "But if you were to have a child with me—one who could be raised with the strength of our people, not poisoned by human frailty, you wouldn’t have to do this alone." Nolan’s jaw tensed. “Mark is already half-Viltrumite.” "Mark is half of something weak," you countered. "Would he ever be allowed to stand among our kind? Would you? You know the truth, Nolan, when the time comes, he will be an obstacle. She will be an obstacle." His silence was damning.

You let the weight of your words settle. Then, more softly, you added, "You’re too valuable to be cast aside, Nolan. But without proof of your commitment, they will find someone else to finish what you couldn’t." His eyes met yours again, and for the first time in years, you saw something shift behind them.

"You can still have what you came here for," you pressed, voice just above a whisper. "A family. A legacy. But one that ensures your survival when all of this—," you gestured to the planet below, "burns." For the first time that night, Nolan didn’t have an immediate response.

And that was the first sign that you were winning. The wind howled between you. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Then— "I need time to think," Nolan said finally, his voice low, rough as he remained perturbed. "You need time to think," you echoed, tilting your head slightly. "Very well. But let me give you something worth thinking about, Nolan."

His eyes flicked to you, wary. He had always disliked being cornered, and yet, here he was, trapped by words instead of fists. You turned away from him slightly, eyes tracing the horizon, as if lost in thought. Then, your voice softened. Not weak. Never weak. But calculated. Controlled. "He needed time too," you murmured. Nolan’s brow furrowed. "Who?"

"My husband."

The words alone felt like steel being drawn across a whetstone—sharp, deliberate, preparing for something deeper. "You never spoke of him," Nolan said after a pause. "Because there was nothing to speak of," you replied. "Not anymore." You let the silence stretch, allowing the weight of your words to settle before continuing.

"He was strong, Nolan. Stronger than most. He had earned his place in the Empire a thousand times over. Conquered dozens of planets before we were even paired." Your voice remained even, but there was a restrained edge beneath it. "And yet, for all his strength, for all his victories, he died." Nolan's eyes darkened, watching you carefully. "How?"

You exhaled sharply through your nose, gaze still locked on the distant city below. "An inferior race." The words dripped with disgust, as if merely saying them left a foul taste in your mouth. "A species that should have never been a threat. But they were desperate. And desperation, as you know, makes lesser beings reckless."

Your fists clenched at your sides, but your voice remained steady. "They used weapons he hadn't accounted for. They didn't fight—they ambushed. A tactic born from fear, not strength. A coward's strategy. And he paid the price for underestimating them."

You turned back to Nolan now, expression tense. "I watched as they burned his body. As the remains of a Viltrumite were reduced to nothing by hands that should have never been capable of harming him." His expression was unreadable, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed him.

And so, you pressed further.

"You understand now, don’t you?" you asked, voice low. "It doesn't matter how strong we are if we allow weakness to fester. If we allow ourselves to hesitate." A pause. "You think I’m hesitating?" Nolan’s voice was quieter this time, as if testing the words himself.

You gave him a pointed look. "I know you are. We have been friends for centuries."

For the first time since your arrival, he didn’t deny it.

A victorious chill crawled up your spine.

"I thought of you after he died," you admitted, stepping closer. "Among all the warriors of our kind, there are few I would have ever considered worthy. But you, Nolan... you have always been different." Something flickered in his eyes. It wasn’t pride, not yet, but it was something dangerously close.

"You are one of the strongest among us," you continued, voice soothing. "You were sent here because of that strength. But even the strong can fall, Nolan." Your words took a sharp turn, more insidious. "Do you think our kind will mourn you if that happens? Do you think they will even blink if you are slaughtered by an inferior race? You know what they will say?"

He didn’t answer. But you did.

"They will say you were not strong enough." The words hung between you, suffocating. Nolan’s jaw clenched, his fingers twitching at his sides. You could feel the trepidation building within him, the conflict. Then, you leaned in just slightly, gaze unwavering. "But you are strong enough, aren’t you? Strong enough to ensure your legacy does not die on a planet of insects."

Silence.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke. "If we do this," Nolan said finally, voice low, measured. "It is not because I need your help. It is because it is logical." A slow grin tugged at the corner of your combined lips. "Of course."

He exhaled, running a hand down his chin, and for the first time, he looked… unsure. "I’ll contact you soon." The words left his mouth slow, deliberate. But even as he spoke, his gaze lingered on you for longer than it should have. There was no hesitation in his stance now, no rejection in his posture. Only consideration and calculation. He was already deciding. Already choosing, even if he refused to say it outright. And that was enough for now. "Take all the time you need." Then, with one final glance toward the city below, you added, "But not too much. We wouldn’t want you getting too... comfortable again."

And with that, you disappeared into the night, leaving Nolan alone in the skies with the weight of his thoughts.

Should I do a part 2? I just like being messy on here.

[vinnyvamppp]

Hey love you are a great writer so much so i had to request you to write a fic This story idea is super toxic This would never be a real scenario But I'm twisted so here's how it goes sinister mark or whom ever you choose is trying to study and girlfriend is just trying to get his attention kissing him, loving on him taking pictures with him and his snaps and accidentally hit her. He doesn't think that she will fight back though turning into this toxic love hate f$ck

You would be doing a great service (to me mostly😩)

Attention Hungry

NOTE: The person requested and the people have agreed! Typing this on my phone in staples while they fix my computer made me lose brain cells. Sorry in advance! Didn’t stray too far from the request. @nefertiti2003

Warnings: Rough Sex, Accidental Assault, Mild Choking, Mutual Orgasm, Hate Fucking, Power Imbalance, Pussy Eating, Dom!Invincible Variant, Power Bottom!Reader, Biting, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Love/Hate Relationship, Porn w a Plot, etc.

Sinister!Mark x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,072

Mark is at his desk, the glow of his tablet screen reflecting against the sharp angles of his face. His brows are furrowed in concentration, scanning lines of text faster than any normal person could. The lamp above casts long shadows, stretching across his strong frame, making him look even more unapproachable than usual. You should know better than to bother him when he’s like this. Focused. Distant. Untouchable.

But you never listen.

You step behind him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pressing your chest against his back. His body is warm—too warm, like a furnace barely contained beneath his skin. A normal person would melt under the heat of him. You just take it as an invitation. “Mark,” you murmur against his ear, letting your lips brush against the skin just below it. He doesn’t react. Not at first.

You tighten your arms, fingers splaying over the solid muscle of his chest. “You’ve been sitting here forever.”

Nothing.

You try again, trailing your fingers up his neck, into his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. His jaw tenses. Progress. A smirk tugs at your lips. “You’re really gonna ignore me?” Still nothing.

Alright then.

You grab his phone from the desk and spin away before he can snatch it back. “Smile,” you tease, pointing the camera at him. He doesn’t even glance up, still reading, as if you’re nothing but background noise. So you step closer, angling yourself into the shot, pressing against his arm. Click. The flash goes off, illuminating his sharp features, and his unreadable eyes. Blinding you in the process. That gets his attention.

It happens fast. Too fast.

A blur of movement—his hand shoots out. A hard impact. Your head jerks to the side. The sharp sting spreads across your cheek before you even register what happened. For a second, everything stops. Your breath catches. Your heart slams against your ribs. Mark’s hand hovers in the air where your face used to be, fingers still curled slightly from the slap.

You gasp. He blinks.

Then—he exhales sharply through his nose, something unreadable flashing behind those crimson-tinted eyes. A mistake? No, he doesn’t make those. His mouth parts like he’s about to say something, but you don’t give him the chance.

Your hand flies before you even think about it, striking him across the face just as fast. The crack of skin-on-skin reverberates through the room. His head barely moves. Your palm burns from the impact. It didn’t hurt, but he felt it. He shouldn’t have felt it, that means he was getting weak, it meant he had to show who was stronger, better in every way. And he would.

Silence. Heavy. Charged.

Slowly—too slowly—Mark turns his head back toward you. His tongue swipes over his lip, testing for blood. And then he grins. “Really?” His voice is low, amused. Dark. Your heart pounds, but you don’t step back. You can’t. The air between you is electric, suffocating, dangerous. His fingers flex, then relax. His eyes roam over you, slow and deliberate. He shifts in his chair, the movement lazy—like a predator just now deciding whether the thing in front of him is prey or something worth playing with first.

Then, with one hand, he grabs your wrist, yanking you down onto his lap. "Now you have my attention."

He seemed amused, if anything.

With a short huff, your wrist curled against his firm grip, yanking with all your might. Nothing. His fingers barely budged, the strength in his hold effortless, as if he wasn’t even trying to restrain you, just reminding you that he could. Your jaw clenched. “Let go.” Mark tilted his head, eyes glinting under the dim light. “Why?”

Your skin burned where he touched you. Not from pain—from frustration. From the way he always did this. Letting you squirm, watching you fight, like you were nothing but a passing entertainment. Like you didn’t even matter. “You don’t even care,” you snapped, struggling again. “I don’t know why I—” He cut you off with a low chuckle. “Why you what?” His grip loosened, but only enough for his fingers to slide down your forearm, keeping you anchored in place. “Keep coming back? Keep trying to get my attention?”

Your breath hitched, but you covered it up with a scowl. “You never bother with me, Mark.” Something flickered in his expression—brief, perhaps sympathetic, but it was gone. “You’re always off somewhere else,” you continued, voice sharper now. “Thinking, planning, doing whatever the hell you do. You don’t talk to me, you don’t look at me, unless I force you to. Like I’m a distraction.”

Mark sighed, as if this entire conversation was beneath him. “You are a distraction.” The words stung more than you wanted to admit. Your nails dug into his wrist. “Then why the hell are you still holding onto me?” His fingers flexed around your arm. A quiet, drawn-out moment passed before he leaned in, just slightly, breath warm against your skin. “Because,” he murmured, “you’re not boring.”

Your stomach twisted. You hated the way your body reacted to him—to this. With a sharp inhale, you pushed against his chest. “I should leave.” Mark didn’t stop you. Didn’t tighten his grip. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, arms dropping to his sides, leaving you free. Daring you. His eyes met yours, calm, knowing. “Then do it.” The room felt smaller, like the walls were closing in. Your muscles tensed. He watched and waited.

Seconds passed. Your heart pounded. You should leave. You should turn around, walk out the door, and never look back. But you didn’t move. Mark smirked. “That’s what I thought.” Your fingers curled into fists. “I hate you.”

“Yeah?” He tilted his head, dragging his gaze over you, slow, deliberate. “Funny. I hate you too.” Your chest rose and fell, breath shaky with something you refused to name. “Then let me go.” He exhaled through his nose, almost like a laugh, before reaching out. His fingers traced your jaw, gentle, too gentle before gripping your chin, forcing you to look at him. “I don’t think you want that,” he said, voice dropping an octave. “And I know I don’t.”

And just like that, you were pulled right back into his orbit.

You moved first, tilting your chin up, daring him, challenging him. His lips met yours in an instant, not gentle, not sweet—hungry. It was all heat and dominance, a battle for control that neither of you wanted to lose. His hand slid lower, fingers pressing into your skin, grounding you against him. Every touch, every movement was deliberate, meant to remind you exactly who he was—who you were dealing with.

He pulled back just enough to murmur against your lips, "Still think you hate me?" You exhaled shakily. "More than ever." Mark’s grin was sharp, almost cocky. "Good."

He stood up abruptly, his chair clattering to the floor behind him. With a firm grip on your hips, he lifted you effortlessly, tossing you over his shoulder like a ragdoll. You yelped in surprise, the breath momentarily knocked out of you. You managed to gasp out as he carried you across the room, his footsteps echoing off the walls. He ignored your weak protested mumbles, his hand resting heavily on your ass as if to remind you of his dominance.

The bedsprings creaked as he threw you down onto the mattress, your body bouncing from the impact. You barely had a moment to catch your breath before he was on top of you, his weight pinning you down. Your hands scrabbled at his chest, but he easily overpowered you, gripping your wrists and shoving them above your head.

His other hand found your throat, fingers curling around your slender neck. He applied just enough pressure to make you gasp, to remind you who was in control. His red eyes bore into yours, gleaming with a dark, feral hunger.

"Is this what you wanted?" he growled, his voice rough with desire. "Fuck, yes. Now give it to me." He released your wrists, only to grab the collar of your shirt. With a sharp tug, he tore the fabric open, sending buttons flying across the room. Your breasts bounced free, the cool air pebbling your nipples.

He wasted no time, ducking his head to inhale your sweet scent as his tongue teased your collarbones. He sucked hard, his teeth scraping against the sensitive flesh, sending jolts of pain and pleasure straight to your core. His hand roughly traced the curves of your figure, squeezing what he could. You arched into him, a moan escaping your lips. But he was already moving, trailing kisses down your stomach, pausing to flick his tongue against your navel. Lower and lower he went until his face was nestled between your thighs.

He breathed hotly against your core, the damp fabric of your panties the only barrier between you. With a low growl, he tugged them aside, exposing you to his hungry gaze. Without warning, he licked a long stripe up your slit, from entrance to clit, the wet heat of his tongue making you shudder. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pushing him closer, silently begging for more. He obliged, sealing his lips around your clit and sucking hard. At the same time, he slid two fingers into your dripping cunt, pumping them in and out, giving you little time to adjust.

Your hips bucked against his face, fucking yourself on his tongue and fingers. But he didn't let up, his grip on your thighs holding you in place as he feasted on your pussy like a starving man. "Jesus, Mark," you gasped, your head thrown back in ecstasy. "Don't. Fucking. Stop..."

You doomed yourself, his eyes meeting yours

But just as you were about to tumble over the edge, he delivered a harsh teething and pulled away, leaving you empty and aching. You groaned at the loss, but it was quickly silenced as he covered your mouth with his, forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue.

You could feel his cock, hard and throbbing, pressing against your thigh. He ground against you, seeking friction, and you knew he was just as desperate as you were. With a snarl, he grabbed your hips and flipped you over onto your stomach. He yanked your hips up, positioning you on your hands and knees. You barely had time to steady yourself before he was inside you, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust.

You cried out at the sudden invasion, your walls stretching around his thick length. But he didn't give you time to adjust, setting a punishing pace that had the headboard slamming against the wall. Each thrust was harder than the last, his hips slapping against your ass as he pounded into you. The obscene sound of skin on skin filled the room, mixing with your muffled moans and his grunts of pleasure.

His hand found your hair, fisting the strands and pulling your head back. He leaned over you, his chest pressed against your back, his breath hot against your ear. Both of too far gone in the haze of pleasure to form coherent words. He seemed to take that as a yes, his thrusts becoming even more brutal.

You felt the pressure building inside you, coiling tighter and tighter with each snap of his hips. Your legs began to tremble, your arms threatening to give out beneath you. "Come for me," he demanded, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight circles around the sensitive nub. "Let me feel you come all over my cock." This time coming as a more of a plea.

And with that final command, you shattered, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your walls clamped down around him, fluttering and squeezing as wave after wave of ecstasy washed through you. Behind you, Mark let out a guttural moan, his hips stuttering as he followed you over the edge. He buried himself deep one last time, spilling his release inside you with a shuddering groan.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, both struggling to catch your breath. Finally, Mark slipped out of you, rolling onto his back and taking you with him. “We’re… not done yet, you fuck.” You sneered, and he obliged with a toothy grin. The tip of his cock rubbed gingerly against your lips as he parted the soft flesh. This is so dramatically written LMFAO.

[vinnyvamppp]

ALR CREW I HAVE A QUESTION

Per suggestion of the commenter, I’ve decided to ask for a general consensus.

Someone requested a toxic love story between Sinister Mark and the Reader. Without spoiling too much, the main premise is that after pandering for his attention, he hits her and she retaliates which leads to hate fucking. NOW considering I’ve just broke even within this fandom, I want to make sure I’m not stepping on anyone’s toes.

ITS OUT NOW LMFAO (ATTENTION HUNGRY)

We all know Sinister Mark is a bit of a deviant, so…

[vinnyvamppp]

She Threw Me—Then Kissed Me

NOTE: Have I been up for three hours writing this? Yes. Is this one of my longest expeditions about an alien mating with a man? Probably. Two lucky commenters requested this, so here I deliver.

@xecres1cloud @deleted-1-800 Warnings: Dom/Sub Dynamics, Public Sex, Cecil Catches Them, Alien Fucking, Tit Sucking, Porn w a Plot, Misuse of Powers, Cowgirl, Dom!Reader, Switch/Dom!Mark Grayson (battle for dominance), Infatuation, Rough Sex, Plot Changes for Convenience, Mutual Dirty Talk, Hair Pulling, etc.

Mark Grayson x Alien!Fem Reader

Word Count: 2, 908

You were never meant to leave Themyscira.

Your people—warriors, champions, god-forged in strength and purpose—do not abandon their home lightly. But you were given a mission, one that pulled you from the sacred shores of your birthplace and thrust you into a world that feels too fragile beneath your hands. The gods spoke of a coming war. A force beyond Earth, beyond even Olympus, stirring in the void between stars. Not one brewing on earth, but amongst earth dwellers in space. The Amazons do not sit idly by when the balance is threatened. You do not sit idly by. So you were sent to watch. To learn. To prepare.

You were sent to this world to stop what’s coming. And then you met him.

Mark Grayson is not a god, but he wears his strength like one. And yet, for all his power, for all the might in his blood, there is something uncertain in the way he carries it. He does not fight like an Amazon—he hesitates, he questions, he cares in a way warriors are taught not to.

Never knowing a world this fragile. Being of Amazon and Talok IV descent, you were a new breed of soldier for your people, and one that could blend in if needed. Although, the power was bestowed due to your father's trickery. No matter. The man is dead. The moment you landed on Earth, you sought out Cecil to initiate your infiltration. Earth people claimed to be resilient, yet so desperate for help once offered, it's pitiful.

You weren’t expecting to find something worth staying for. His influence prodding at you like an infectious disease. The time was approaching, the time to mate that is, yet you were unusually apprehensive–. THWACK!

Here, metal bends like softened wax beneath your hands. Brick crumbles as if it were pressed from sand. You’ve seen men build their homes, their towers, their weapons—each one designed to endure, yet none of them built to withstand you. Mark learned that the hard way. “I swear I was ready for that,” he groans, flat on his back in the wreckage of a training arena that should have been reinforced better. The dust hasn’t even settled from your last hit. A crack spiders through the concrete where he landed, but he’s already moving, rubbing the back of his head like a man more embarrassed than injured. You stand over him, arms crossed. “You weren’t.” Mark exhales sharply, pushing himself up onto his elbows. He’s strong—stronger than most things in this world. But not stronger than you, outside of his domain of expertise.

He knows it, too.

“You’re really not holding back, huh?” he says, half a grin forming. You tilt your head. “Should I?” Mark blinks, then laughs, shaking his head. “No, no. It’s just… you’re insane.” He gestures vaguely at the crater where the ground used to be. “I’m supposed to be the strong one, you know?” You raise an eyebrow. “Who told you that?” For a second, he just looks at you. Then he grins, something sparking behind his eyes that wasn’t there before. “I’ve been wanting you to say that. I like you.” he says, and for the first time since this match started, it almost feels like a challenge. The slight rasp in his voice sends tingles through you. And finally, you think, someone worth fighting. Someone worth keeping.

Mark is still grinning at you, the weight of his words hanging in the air between you. I like you. A simple statement, but there’s something behind it—something testing the waters, something that sees you as more than just an opponent. You roll your shoulders, easing the tension from the fight. “You like losing?” Mark exhales a short laugh, pushing himself fully upright, closer now. "I like a challenge." His eyes flicker over you—not with fear, not with wariness, but something else. Something warmer. You’re used to admiration. It comes naturally when you are carved from power itself, when your body is built to command. Men have looked at you in awe before, in fear, in respect. But Mark looks at you like— Like he isn’t afraid to lose to you.

That’s new.

You shift your stance, but you don’t step back. "Careful, Grayson," you say, your voice dipping lower. "Keep looking at me like that and I might think you're flirting." At your words you sway slightly. You were tall and statuesque, and your skin was kissed by deep cerulean hues. Its very image carries the mystery of the void itself. Your hair, thick and dark flows past your shoulders, caught in satisfying curly tussles. Your eyes—piercing, luminous—glow softly in the dark, a warning and a lure. Just how could he not be reeled in? From the moment you two’s eyes met, he felt his heart stir. He couldn’t tell if it was just lust, perhaps, even so he wanted you.

Mark swallows, his grin flickering—still there, but a little uneven now. His eyes dart away for half a second, like he’s trying to figure out if you’re messing with him. “Uh,” he starts, rubbing the back of his neck, “I mean, I was kind of flirting, but if that’s, like, weird, or—y’know, if you don’t—” He clears his throat, cutting himself off before he spirals any further. “You’re really hard to read, by the way.” You arch a brow, unimpressed. “You’re nervous.” His shoulders tense slightly. “What? No. Pfft. Me? Nervous?” He gestures vaguely between you. “I just—uh—didn’t expect this to happen after you threw me through a wall.”

“You survived.”

“Barely!”

“You’re fine,” you counter, stepping closer. His breath hitches—just a little, but you catch it. He’s still sitting on the broken concrete, looking up at you, and for all his strength, all his power, there’s something hesitant in the way he meets your gaze. You tilt your head. “You’re not used to this, are you?” Mark blinks. “Used to what?” “Someone stronger.” His mouth opens, then closes. He hesitates, then exhales a short, nervous laugh. “Wow. Okay. Just calling me out like that.” It’s not an insult, just an observation. The men here—especially the ones like him are used to being the strongest person in the room. It doesn’t matter that he’s still learning, still figuring out his limits. People look at him and see power. You wonder if anyone has ever made him feel small before. If he even knows what it’s like.

You kneel slightly, closing the height difference by roughly four inches. His breath stills. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, Mark.” His lips part slightly, like he wants to argue, but he doesn’t. Instead, his gaze flickers over your face, lingering for just a second too long. “…I’m not.” Lie. Not fear, exactly but something close. That nervous, unsure energy that coils in his muscles like he doesn’t know if he should lean in or back away. You’re used to confidence, used to men puffing their chests, trying to match your strength. Mark doesn’t do that. He just looks at you like he’s trying to figure you out, like he wants to say something but isn’t sure how. You decide for him. You lift a hand, slow enough that he can stop you if he wants to. He doesn’t. Your fingers graze his jaw, and he tenses. His skin is warm beneath your touch, and when you tilt his chin up, his breath catches. “I really don’t know what to do right now,” he admits, voice slightly higher than before. You smirk. “That’s new for you, isn’t it?” He huffs a soft laugh, shaking his head. “That obvious?”

“Then let me teach you.” Mark swallows hard, his hands twitching slightly at his sides—like he wants to reach for you but isn’t sure if he should. His pulse is quick under your fingertips, his face just inches from yours. “…Yeah,” he breathes after a moment, voice softer now. “Okay.”

his hands grip your waist, rough and sure, pulling you into him with a force that sends heat curling through your spine. His lips crash into yours—not careful, not questioning, but hungry, decisive. It takes you a moment to process it; to register the way his fingers tighten against your hips, the way his body pressed against yours, firm and demanding. Mark Grayson, who had been so nervous before, so uncertain, is kissing you like a man who finally stopped thinking and started wanting. Mark moves, twisting, and before you can counter, the ground disappears beneath you. He takes you down with him, the two of you collapsing onto the rubble left in the wake of your fight. The impact sends up a small cloud of dust, but neither of you care. He’s already back on you, already pushing up on his elbows to hover over you, breath warm against your lips. His voice is rough, a little unsteady. “You keep acting like you’re the only one who can take control.” You smirk, fingers trailing along his jaw. “Prove me wrong.”

Mark stares at you. Mid kiss, you’ve fumbled the bag and told him, in clear, matter-of-fact detail, that on Themyscira, men do not live after mating with an Amazon. And he is very much a man. His mouth opens. Closes. Then, finally: “Okay.” He lifts a finger, his voice rising slightly. “Uh. I—Okay. I really need you to explain how we got here.” You fold your arms, unimpressed. “We were talking about your customs romantically. I shared mine.” You explained. “Right. Right.” He nods rapidly, pacing for a second before spinning back around to face you. “And—just so I’m understanding this correctly—your custom is that if we—uh—mate, you have to kill me afterward?”

“Yes.”

Mark makes a strangled sound, somewhere between a laugh and a panicked wheeze. “Cool. Cool, cool, cool. And you—you don’t see a problem with that?” You tilt your head. “I see a problem for you.” Mark runs both hands through his hair, exhaling sharply. “Okay. See, that is the part I’m stuck on. Why does that have to happen?” He inquires. “It is tradition,” you say simply. “The Amazons have no need for men beyond what they offer.” Mark lets out a nervous laugh, rubbing his face. “Great. That’s very reassuring.” You watch him carefully. You expected resistance—expected him to balk at the idea of it, at you. Men tend to do that when faced with their own mortality. And yet, he hasn’t left. He hasn’t even backed away. He’s nervous, sure, but he’s still here. Interesting. You take a slow step toward him, forcing his eyes back to yours. “Do you want to?” Mark swallows. Hard. “I—What?”

“You seem conflicted,” you observe, studying him. “If you didn’t want me, you wouldn’t still be here.” His lips part, but no words come out. His gaze flickers over your face, your stance, the way you’re looking at him. He does want you. He just doesn’t know what to do with that want when it comes with a potential death sentence. You smirk. “I wouldn’t kill you, Mark.” Mark visibly deflates with relief. “Wait. Hold on.” His brow furrows. “Then why would you even say that?” You shrug. “I never said I had to. Only that it was tradition.” Mark stares at you again, looking so caught between exasperation and disbelief that you almost laugh. “So let me get this straight,” he says slowly, pointing at you. “You could have led with ‘I don’t have to kill you,’ but instead you decided to give me a heart attack first?” You tilt your head, amused. “You’re still alive.”

“Barely!” He sighs, pressing his fingers against his temples. “I think I just aged like ten years.” You close the space between you, reaching up to rest a hand on his chest. He tenses—but not in fear. His pulse thrums beneath your fingers, quick, strong. “You’re an interesting man, Mark Grayson,” you murmur, watching the way his breath catches. His hands hover uncertainly at your sides, fingers flexing like he wants to touch you. “…Yeah?” You nod, smirking. “Most would have run by now.” Mark exhales a short laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, well. I’m really bad at making good decisions.” You hum in amusement, then lean in, lips just a breath from his. “Now, where did we leave off?”

It didn’t take long for you both to be disheveled and distracted. Mark shudders beneath you, his hands gripping your hips as you hover above him. "I won't kill you, but I can't make any promises about how hard I'll fuck you." He shudders at your words, his resolve crumbling. "I'll take my chances." You can feel his hardness pressing against your core, begging for entrance. Creamy pre-cum bubbling from his tip acted as a perfect lubricant. The slip caught your clit, each time earning a sharpened moan from you. Without warning, you slam down onto him, taking him deep inside you. The size of him certainly shows his non-human relation.

He groans, his head falling back as you begin to ride him hard and fast. Your breasts bounce with every movement, drawing his gaze like a magnet. He reaches up, cupping them in his large hands, kneading the soft flesh. "F-fuck, you're soooo beautiful; I’ve seen this in my dreams." He pants, his thumbs circling your hardened nipples. "I c-can't get enough of you." He admitted, a grin wearily etching across your lips. “W-Wouldn’t want you to, need you badly, Mark.” The simplicity yet raw need in your sentiment drives him wild.

His strong hands suddenly suction to your upper thigh, his mouth latching onto your nipple instead. He couldn’t tear his eyes away, his gaze fixed upon your pleasured expression as your combined moans vibrated the flesh. His tongue grew erratic as it sought to bring stimulation, his hips snapped forward to meet you. The swollen tip of his cock threatens to bruise your cervix with each drive. Small dust clouds from debris kicked up, the sex growing more aggressive as he realized you could handle his strength. No need to hold back, only needing to savor the feeling. A loud clap echoed within the domain; the slab of concrete shifted beneath you as his toes gripped the floor. It's taking everything within you two to hold on as your cunts arousal responds to him. Thank god you’re on earth, easier access to the best pussy he’s had so far. The only pussy he needs now. A strangled growl crawls from his throat—.

“Donald. Turn off the training facility cameras.” Cecil chimed, an exasperated sigh leaving him. “...Right away, sir.” Replied Donald as he hastily cut surveillance.

Your fingers left his chest, deep claw marks reddening his skin. You lean down, your hair cascading around you as you capture his lips in a searing kiss. Your tongues dance together, each of you fighting for dominance. His hands slide down to your ass, gripping it tight as he thrusts up into you, meeting you stroke for stroke. You squeezed him with such vigor, pussy puffier with more pleasurable ridges. "Jesus, y-you're s-so tight," he grunts, his hands digging into your ass hard enough to leave bruises. "I'm going to make this pussy only crave me." His conviction made you laugh, a wicked sound. "Promises, promises," you taunt, rocking your hips to meet his thrusts. "But we'll see who's ruined by the end of the night."

The room fills with the sounds of your lovemaking—the slap of skin on skin, the cries of pleasure, the obscene squelch of your wetness. “Mmph…! Do you feel this, Mark Grayson?” You asked, your voice dropping to a husky whisper, and something in it—some unearthly vibration—rolled through his bones like a pulse, deep and intoxicating. “Mmm… yeah—yeah, fuck yeah, I do.” He rasps, as his teeth grit with determination. “This is how it feels to fuck someone who can handle you.” You grinned, almost sadistically, with a strong sense of pride. Your expression grew into one of lust as your nose scrunched, glistening lips singing so beautifully for him. “I’ll give you that and more.” The comment was so resolute you almost didn't hear it before you both groaned in unison. One of his hands comes up to tug your locs, preventing your teases. Your head slinging back with a loud yelp as your vision blurred.

You can feel your orgasm building, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter in your core. A series of pleasured whines leave your unfiltered lips. Mark must sense it too, because he flips you over onto your back, never breaking their rhythm. However, his previous efforts went for not, only spurring you on. Wisps of living shadow curled around his neck, his chest—soft and teasing, cold phantom touches caressing him in droves of trembles. They grew more intense with every stroke of gratification. “Ooh…! Mark! I— I—.” You stutter.

He pounds into you, his eyes boring into yours with an intensity that takes your breath away. "Oh god, I’m gonna cum. C’mon… please… for me,” he commands so sweetly that you couldn’t deny him, his voice rough with need. "I want to feel you come; I need to feel you." His words are all it takes to send you hurtling over the edge. You scream his name like a mantra, your body going limp, and he convulses above you as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you. He follows soon after, dick knotting inside you as he spills his seed deep within your walls. Harsh gasps leave you both as he nestles himself within you absentmindedly, not thinking of the consequences. Or so you thought.

Mark smiles— a small, lopsided thing. He leans in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss against your lips before whispering, “… Guess you’re stuck with me.”

…

Optional ending!

The Next Day

“No, Mark. After the shit you just pulled, you two are banned from the training facility indefinitely,” Cecil said, rubbing his temples like he was one bad decision away from an aneurysm.

Mark, sitting across from him with his arms crossed, groaned. “Oh, come on. It wasn’t that bad.”

Cecil shot him a look. “Mark, we had to evacuate three city blocks because someone thought an earthquake was happening. Do you have any idea how hard it is to explain to the public that the ‘seismic activity’ was just you and your Amazonian girlfriend going at it?”

Mark turned bright red. “Okay, in our defense—”

“There is no defense!” Cecil snapped. “You two leveled the place! I’m still waiting on a damage report for what’s left of the foundation!”

You leaned back in your chair, arms crossed, entirely unbothered. “It’s not my fault your training grounds weren’t built to withstand real combat.”

Cecil’s eye twitched. “It was! It just wasn’t built for you two doing whatever the hell that was!”

Mark coughed into his fist, eyes darting to the side. “...We, uh, might’ve gotten a little carried away.”

Cecil exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Mark. Son. You punched through a wall mid-mission briefing the next morning.”

Mark stiffened. You turned to him, amused. “You did?”

He muttered something under his breath, ears still burning.

Cecil waved a hand. “You’re lucky we need you, otherwise I’d have you both on clean-up duty for the next decade.” He sighed, rubbing his face. “Just—do me a favor. Next time, take it off-world.”

Mark perked up. “Wait, so you’re saying we can—”

“Out of my office, Mark.”

And with that, you grabbed your still-flustered boyfriend by the wrist and gracefully exited before Cecil had an aneurysm.

Again.

[vinnyvamppp]

Can I request for Ladybug! Reader? I saw a TikTok video where Marinette was telling some heroes she could just Miraculous ladybug everything back to normal and they want to hire her because of that.

So imagine this but with Invincible, Reader's like his next door neighbor - yes she witnessed him learning how to land and she got pissed at that cuz IT WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT

I like the idea of her revealing her identity to Mark so she can join him in missions whenever, so anytime he destroyed half of a city she just Miraculous ladybug everything and goes "YOUR WELCOME ASSHOLEEE!!"

And maybe during the Invincible war, she lucky charms a whip while fighting a variant (either Mohawk Mark or No goggles Mark cuz they freaky like that) and she goes wtf am I supposed to do with this?

(sorry I'm rambling a lot I just like the potential of this concept)

Friendly Neighborhood Inconvenience

NOTE: THIS IDEA WAS SOOOO FUN, Its 1 am for me and I've been giggling away while typing. I've taken a different approach to my usually long writing to make this more conversationally driven. I'm not straying too much so the vision is accurate. Up and away! Synopsis: Mark Grayson, is your biggest inconvenience and friend... whom you also live next to. Super-powered besties...? :) Warnings: None, my first non-smut-related blog yes yes! Just two idiots with powers. Mark Grayson x Ladybug!Reader Word Count: 1,000

You knew Mark Grayson was going to be a problem the moment he crashed into your backyard.

Not metaphorically. Not in a "he’s my annoying next-door neighbor" way. No, Mark Grayson—your classmate, occasional physics partner, and guy who still owed you ten bucks from a group project—literally smashed into the ground outside your window at 2 AM. 

You had been peacefully sleeping, dreaming of things far, far away from the absolute disaster that was your life, when a loud THUD shook your house. The crashes you had been imagining in your dreams began to manifest outside of your home. Were you under attack? Has the house shifted? Did your insomnia finally catch up to you? You jolted awake, heart racing, and sprinting as you immediately threw open your window to find Mark groaning in a crater. Oh…

"...Are you serious right now?"

He looked up, squinting, disoriented. "Huh—? Oh. Uh. Hey, neighbor."

"You woke me up," you deadpanned.

"Sorry," he wheezed, struggling to stand. His hands planting themselves against his knees.

"Mark. Why are you in my backyard." Your fingers gestured to the now three unevenly placed craters, one having a busted water pipe.

At that, he winced. "I was... learning how to land."

"You… know how to fly?” Correction: Barely. “...In the middle of the night?"

"Y-Yeah?"

You sighed so hard it could’ve put out a candle. "Grayson, I swear to God, if you ever—"

His attention suddenly turned towards his bedroom, the voice of his mothers concerned cries calling out for him jolted him into focus. And then he zoomed away, barely getting his balance, leaving you seething in your pajamas.

Yeah. Mark Grayson was going to be a problem. One you couldn’t avoid. Mark thought he was so slick. Just how did he manage his grades being so reckless? He’d show up to school exhausted, disappear at the most inconvenient times, and had that whole "Oops, did I break another building? Teehee!" energy about him. You knew. Oh, you knew.

Because the second you saw him with a black eye in the hallway after a “plumbing accident,” you put two and two together. You’d seen Invincible on the news. You’d seen him stumble into your backyard like an idiot. Not to mention the various times he’d confidently strut into his home WEARING HIS COSTUME. Though, you always assumed he was just into comic con and somewhat of a superhero nerd.

So when the time finally came to throw off the mask, you did it spectacularly.

Mark stood in your living room, eyes wide, staring at you in full Ladybug attire. "Wait—YOU’RE LADYBUG?!"

You smirked, spinning your yo-yo. "Surpriiiise~!"

"But—how—why—?!"

"Bro, did you really think you were the only one sneaking around at night?!"

Mark ran a hand through his hair, still struggling to process. "You fix everything after my fights?"

"Ding ding ding!" You clapped your hands. "Every time you break a city block, I put it back together. Every. Single. Time."

His jaw dropped. "Oh my God."

"Oh your God is right. Do you know how hard it is to undo your messes?! Half the time, I don’t even know what I’m fixing! You knock over a skyscraper, I gotta wing it! And every fight wrecks at least ten buildings!"

Mark laughed, but there was guilt in his eyes. "...So, uh. Guess this means you can help out more?"

You crossed your arms. "Help? Babe, I’ve been your cleanup crew this entire time. You should be helping me."

And thus, the most chaotic partnership in hero history was born. Cecil had been hounding you anyway, so this panned out in your favor. Being close and personal to his hero-ly escapades made the clean up easier to maintain… for your sanity of course. You had been through some rough days. Fought some wild villains. But nothing could have prepared you for an entire army of Invincibles tearing through the planet. Honestly, you were terrified; and left ragged, but keeping your wits about you would be the best bet you had for survival. 

You were dodging a punch from one of them, Mohawk Mark, which was an awful fashion choice, by the way—when your Lucky Charm activated. Perhaps it was something helpful like a pair of shears to correct his funky haircut. A bright light flashed, and in your hand, you felt—

A whip.

You blinked.

"...What the hell am I supposed to do with this?!"

Mohawk Mark lunged at you with a cheeky grin, enthralled more than anything. “Didn’t know you were into that, could use another one of you.” He teased.

"Shit—!"

You improvised. And like a thirsty mutt, he hounded you like a new obsession. Who knew men with harems could be so freaky? Later, when the war was over, when the dust settled and the leveled cities were—miraculously— nearly restored, you stood next to Mark, arms crossed, glaring at him.

"Go ahead," he muttered.

"You know what I’m gonna say," you grinned, nudging him slightly.

He sighed.

"Go on," you sing-songed.

"…Thanks."

"And—?"

"...Sorry for all the messes."

You smirked, patting his shoulder. "See? That wasn’t so hard. Now go buy me dinner, asshole."

Mark groaned. "You're never gonna let this go, huh?

"Not in a million years." Secretly, he would be happy too, but the poor boy was embarrassed from being proven wrong that his lips sealed shut. As Mark begrudgingly led the way to the nearest burger joint, you grinned, spinning your yo-yo around your finger. The city skyline gleamed, perfectly restored, thanks to you. The world was safe again—also thanks to you. And despite the chaos, the near-death experiences, and the fact that you were probably stuck dealing with Mark’s messes forever… you wouldn’t have it any other way. Ugh, I just love writing in-character stories. I HOPE THIS LIVED UP TO YOUR REQUESTS EXPECTATIONS LMAO.

[vinnyvamppp]

Is it possible you could make something that just makes you wanna twerk some?

LMFAOOO WHAT WOULD THAT EVEN BE? WHAT DOES THIS MEAN????? 💀

[vinnyvamppp]

Hi!! Could I please get a smut fic of a plus size reader x Mark (invincible) however you want to do it!

Head Game

Note: THE TITLE IS SO CORNY LMFAOOO but ofc! did I wake up at 6 am to eagerly type this up before class, yes, yes I did. Enjoy! Synopsis: He's been distant lately but he's willing to do anything to make it up to you... even beg if he has to.

Warnings: Dom/Sub Dynamics, Oral (Male receiving), Pussy Eating, Switch!Mark Grayson (I will die on this hill), Switch!Reader, Clitoral Stimulation, 69, Bodily Praise, Based on Comics (he loved chubby Atom Eve), Plot changes for convenience, Munch activities, Porn w a Plot, etc.

Mark Grayson x Plus Sized Reader (he just like me fr) Word Count: 1,413

He was a beautiful disaster, a man undone by the weight of the world yet somehow still standing. Every fight, every failed relationship, and every argument built upon his shoulders as a burden. His personal issues ruined your moments alone, collapsing beside you on the rooftop where you once watched the sunrise in peaceful silence. You should’ve felt guilty, your fingers carving the sorrow on his face as he melted within your grasp. In the quaint, sun-kissed streets of Mark’s neighborhood, you were left unoccupied in his room. He had made an excuse of needing to leave; a pang of disappointment lingered at the supposed “study session” you two were having.

Just where did he leave to? This was becoming a concern of yours hearing as his friend, William, absentmindedly reeled on about his past relationships failing due to his absences. Surely, he was trying to help, but the banter did little to ease your worries than it did to cause laughter.

Unbeknownst to you, he soared through the sky like a bat out of hell; he was eager to return to you, to rest against the soft warmth of your body. He couldn’t care less about body rolls, he enjoyed the contrast between his hardened muscles and the plushness of your figure. Nights like those could be better than sex; his mind would claim innocence as he buried his growing erection into the blankets. His body revealed everything his mouth could barely mutter. Even now, your image, scent, and taste filled his mind. A sweet kiss could melt his problems, yes.

That was until he stumbled through his window to see you adorned in one of his spandex costumes.

Standing in front of the mirror, your fingers prodded at the material. It was snug, snapping to adjust to your body like a glove. Something about it was elegant and supple as it carved out the soft rolls of your skin, shaping you like the Greek Goddess Aphrodite. If you had known this sooner, maybe you would’ve sought a lab to grant you powers. Who were those geniuses he was constantly fighting? The Mauler Twins, right? Hearing an abrupt crash, your head turned to meet the winded frame of your boyfriend.

“Mark… does this suit make my butt look bigger?” You asked, as you continued to observe him. His surprise turned into a grin as he slowly approached you, his fingers pulling the mask from his face as messy tussles of hair fell into view. “No, no, it just makes it look… even better.” He replied, his eyes absorbing the sight in front of him. You smiled gingerly, rolling your eyes at his enthusiasm. “Really? Are you sure you’re not saying that to make me feel better—?” The minute the words left your lips, he was already behind you with his fingers tapping against your hips. “I mean it! Seriously, I’m not in any rush for you to lose weight. You look great.” He admitted, clearly he loved his women with curvature.

Planting a gentle kiss on your cheek, he gently spun you around as your lips met, a grin etching across his face. The kiss was soft and subtle, yet filled with tender affection. Your lips, warm and inviting, brushed against his, sending shivers down his spine. The gentle pressure caused the sweetest sigh to bubble from his throat. Like the horny, high-libido man you knew, a firm bulge caressed your thigh. The contact itself made him groan. Pulling you towards the bed, you two chuckled as you clumsily landed. “I’ve thought about this all day… You have no idea.” He murmured, watching as you began to undress. “Well, Mark Grayson, you’ll have to make it up to me for being late.” You replied, both of your hands working to get him out of that tight contraption of a suit.

Once his costume was pried off, he didn't waste any time removing yours. The sight of you nearly making him short circuit. “I wanna try something.” He interjected, flopping himself against the bed; he guided you to turn and straddle him. “Could… could you sit on my face?” He asked gingerly. “What…?” You asked, turning to face him, more surprised than anything. “I mean, not if you don’t want to, but I would really like it if you could. You’re so so sososo sexy to me—and this is my, uhm, attempt at making it up to you?” He rambled as you laughed, “Well, what are you waiting for?” You said rhetorically to feel a pair of strong hands yank you backwards. He usually handled you with such grace, not this time, not when your pussy was practically calling out to him.

The fat of your ass and thighs smothered him; he groaned with gratification, the sound vibrating against your sensitive flesh as he leaned in. Breathing? He didnt need to. Your weight? He couldn’t care less. His first lick is slow and deliberate, starting at your entrance and trailing down to your clit. You gasp at the sensation, your hips bucking up to meet his mouth. He takes his time, exploring every inch of your pussy with his tongue. He circles your clit, flicking it with the tip before sucking it between his lips. His hands slide up to grip your ass, pulling you tighter against his face as he feasts on you. You moaned loudly, your hands fisting in the sheets as he worked you over with his talented tongue.

Just as you could feel yourself growing closer, his sounds grew nearly deafening. He sounded starved, greedy even, as your juices coated his lips. The wet smacks of him absolutely ravaging you between his own moans were plentiful. Truly, your pleasure was also his, especially when you’ve confidently declared you could handle his strength; he would bully you with his tongue. Staring just below you, you notice beads of precum weeping from his tip. Without warning, your thumb swipes over the head, earning a strangled hiss from behind. Pressing a gentle kiss around his tip, you engulfed him inside of your mouth without caution. His cock already tapping against your uvula as it twitched.

The amount of pre-cum was overwhelming, the lubrication allowing your mouth to glide with ease. Just as you added the perfect amount of teeth into the mix to caress the sensitive veins of his dick, his hips attempted to pull away as a measly whine echoed. Your hands held him in place. “Ss– shit…! Wait, wait,” he pleaded, not because he didn’t feel good but because he was worried he’d cum too quickly. “What the fffuuuuck? When did you get so good at this?” An absentminded rasp left him as he grunted. Your head continued to bob; when you tried to respond, the vibration made him jolt. “D-Dont do that!” He said, making you chuckle. That wasn’t nice.

This time, he doesn't hold back. His tongue delves deep inside you, lapping up your juices as he tongue-fucks you hard and fast. Your combined moans fill the room, growing louder and more desperate with each passing second. It felt like a competition of sorts, one you both would lose. His toes curled slightly as he grew taut. The grip on you tightens as his body threatens to manhandle you, only stopping as the welcoming canal of your throat glides against him.

Bringing two fingers to your cunt, his fingers rapidly rub over the bundle of nerves, his tongue unrelenting as your mouth is filled to the hilt. “Oooh… shit, mmph–.” It was sudden, your hips lifting as your orgasm approached. “Nononono, c-come back, princess.” He nearly sounded cocky as he chased after you. His hips bucked into your mouth as your hands massaged his balls, and holy shit, he was getting dizzy. That's when, in a moment of retaliation, his teeth gently scrape against your clit, causing an unfamiliar spark to snap within your core. You both cried in unison, you going limp as he recovered like it was nothing, his appearance frazzled. "Did I do good?" he asks, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

You grin up at him, your eyes sparkling with satisfaction. "You did more than good," you purr. "Now get up here and fuck me already." He chuckles, his hardness pressing against your thigh as he positions himself at your entrance. "You’re gonna be the death of me."

Guys, should I do some more fics where the reader isn't human? y'know Grayson men looove their alien gfs.

[vinnyvamppp]

To Be Desired PT 2

⭐:ViltrumMark, OmniMark, Hooded Invincible, Masked Mark, HeadCap Invincible (Requested!), Mentions of Invincible. (PART 1 HERE)

Commenter: Can u write some viltrumark n Omni mark. Pleasee. (I shall deliver!)

Synopsis: Variants of your childhood best friend spawn across the globe, and you find yourself in the crossfire of their previous lovers. What happens when you experience the parallel pleasure they can offer?

Warnings: Power Struggles, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Morally Grey, Nipple Play, Fingering, Pussy Eating, Overstimulation, Public Sex, Ejaculating Inside, Rough Sex, 69, Car Sex, Switch!Reader, Switch!Invincible Variants, Plot changes for convenience, Matching Freaks, Position Changes, Porn w a Plot, etc.

invincible Variants x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6,079

ReCap: Helping where you could, you began assisting in fighting off the weaklings who figured now was the best time to attack Earth. Micro tears riddled your uniform as you tore through them mercilessly, all through a look of pity. There were days you'd resent this “job” you'd granted yourself, the little recognition and appreciation you'd receive from the public. How selfish of them and you. You wanted an excuse to have this world fair alone without a need to rebel when no one would notice. As luck would have it, a voice suddenly dawned behind you, his body floating midair and adorned with the appearance of your dearest friend.

ViltruMark

Gazing upon the malignant figure, his jaw ticked ever so slightly at the sight of you. A mangy mutt of a man was within his grasp, its maw bludgeoned with the imprint of his knuckles. The sound of a body hitting the ground beside you was like a heavy, wet slap, followed by a faint whoosh of air being forced from its lungs. It was a sickening thud, like a ripe melon dropped from a great height, and you froze with a sense of unease. The impact was startling and violent, and for a moment, you forgot about the raging havoc reaped around you. The suddenness of it all made your heart race—you were almost certain he could hear it—as every instinct shrieked within. Your body language became defensive, his gaze hardening upon notice.

"I've killed you once, and I'll kill you again," he proclaimed, yet it held little intent. His uniform was a staple of the Viltrumite Empire, its clad symbol emboldened in the sky’s smoke like a false beacon of hope. "Then get it over with. You won't be the first variant who dies tonight." The snarky remark was met with a confident scoff. His padded feet landed in front of you, his eyes absorbing your features as if to reminisce. "I won’t. That was my first mistake," he replied, his fingers finding themselves within your hair.

It was sudden; you couldn't help but grimace at his words. A Viltrumite admitting their mistakes? Unbelievable. That was until his grip suddenly tightened, cocking your head to the side as he whispered in your ear. "I've come to right my wrongs and take you with me." The man's grip was a grasp of domination, a vice-like hold that strangled the last vestiges of hope. It was merciless, like that of a warlord who wielded power with an iron fist. Yet the soothing hand around your waist and the calloused fingertips that scratched against your costume told the story of a starved man.

It wasn’t a debate, nor did you intend to argue, as your annoyance with your reality simmered. "Right your wrongs…?" you questioned, a wicked grin slowly spreading across his face as you two suddenly took flight. Tears bubbled at your waterline from the speed, your fingers clinging to him as you could’ve sworn he nearly melted. The underground vibrations beat against your eardrums as he cradled you. Your gaze fixed upon a newly formed crater within the valley, only destroyed rubble offering privacy. "We’ll do it here. You’ll be my new beloved and will give me children."

His fingers traced down your abdomen as they tore through the fabric, gooseflesh arising from the exposure. It was a depressing past, really—having to murder you in cold blood so soon due to his agenda—but not this time. You would stay ignorant of his past, and he would provide it, given your indulgence. His hands grasped the spandex material of your suit, prying it open as his lips began their pleasurable assault on your neck. The wet warmth of his tongue tickled your skin as he harshly nipped the welcoming flesh. Your faint pulse beneath it enticed him to experience what he had yet to. So alive and welcoming.

Head resting against the soft soil, his hardened cock imprinted beneath the loincloth. His body did little to hide his excitement, though his expression remained cold. Once the clothing was peeled from your body, his lips continued their journey south, pausing to lavish attention on your breasts. He took one nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue erratically around the hardened peak while his hand kneaded and caressed the other.

You moaned at the sensations, your hands instinctively tangling within his hair as his hips ground against your clothed cunt. He didn’t stop. He worshiped your breasts until you were writhing beneath him, the skin tender and reddened from his teeth. As he traveled lower, you could feel his warm breath on your most intimate area, his pre-cum now staining the cloth of both his and your costume. Just before his lips could reach your sex, he pulled away in satisfaction. All mild waves of pleasure were ripped from you, and a feeling of annoyance bubbled within.

Pressing back against him, your eyes pleaded seductively, a hand resting against his chest. "It’s not fun when it's just me; let me please you," you muttered, watching as the faintest smirk graced his lips. He sat on his knees as you shuffled yourself forward, hands eagerly tugging at his clothing. His costume splintered as it fell from his form, your mouth practically watering at the sight of his swollen cock eagerly awaiting your touch. You leaned in, inhaling deeply and savoring his musky scent. You ran your tongue along the underside of his veins, from the base to the tip, feeling it twitch against your lips. He shivered.

You circled the head with your tongue, dipping into the slit to taste his essence before taking him into your mouth. Instantly, he sucked in a deep breath through gritted teeth. The man was more sensitive than intended. As your throat relaxed and another inch slid inside, the soft lining of your esophagus welcomed him so fruitfully that his eyelids began to twitch. His pride had failed to forewarn him, and his temperament began to crumble.

As his hips bucked forward, you gagged, only to see a placid grin etched onto his face as his nose crinkled with restraint. He groaned loudly with every bob of your throat, his dick twitching with each contact. Suddenly, his hand gripped your hair, pulling you back. "Enough," he muttered, his voice carrying enough command to bring you pause. Before you could process it, you were flipped onto your hands and knees, panties being lowered as his eyes devoured the sight of your pussy. "You’re soaked… I would’ve fucked you sooner if I knew you’d be so willing." The mumble seemed more to himself than to you. His tip glided down the skin of your folds, the squelching sound causing his grip to tighten as he pushed your head into the ground. Just as he pressed himself inside, the quietest whimper slipped.

Your eyes met his with a smug expression; he returned it as a warning before your velvety walls swallowed him whole. He sighed, like a man being gifted after a long day of work. He didn’t give you time to adjust, immediately pulling out and setting a brutal pace, pounding into you with a force that rocked your entire body. Each thrust pushed you forward, your hands scrabbling for purchase in the burrow of grass. His balls slapped against your clit with every stroke, sending sparks of pleasure through you.

One of his hands left your hip, wrapping around your hair and pulling your head back, forcing you to arch your spine. With every stroke, your body bounced forward, and you could swear you heard your vertebrae popping. Does he not know what gentle is?! No! He’s a Viltrumite, born and raised!

Unbeknownst to you, the dual stimulation of his balls slapping against your skin and the soft twitching of your pussy had him hunched over. He began to chase his own release, loud growls echoing in your ears as you could barely formulate sound. His free hand rested against your ass, enjoying its recoil as a pathetic whine scratched his throat. He was hellbent on burying himself within you, each thrust deepening with the swivel of his hips. His muscles tightened as his jaw clenched, heavy pants echoing between groans.It was beginning to sound needy, a rough greed that consumed him. Your moans were muffled, his hearing good enough to hear each one, his tactics changing subtly to bring you the utmost pleasure. God, why did he kill you? He could barely remember as his brain began to fizzle out from the pleasure. “Mphm… Mark… can’t breathe.” You muttered, his eyes finally coming to focus. In a last-ditch effort, he tugged you back, ripping a hiss from you as your spine curved. Your back rested against his chest, and although the sex was rough, this was a moment of gentleness. “Aah—ugh, mm, fuck, I’m going to fill you.” He whispered, sheathing himself one final time as he came.

You two remained still as his stamina recovered; he pressed a chaste kiss against your lips, both of your suits ruined. No matter, he couldn't care less about flying into space naked. It was short-lived as he abruptly readied himself from a voice buzzing within his ear, you remained seated in absolute awe. “How long can you hold your breath?” He asked, a plan to return home brewing.

OmniMark

His gaze remained fixed on you, expression unimpressed as he observed. You had just defeated another swarm of enemies, their blood coating the streets. As you stumbled toward him, your breath came out in labored gasps, and your vision blurred, making it hard to focus on his figure. Mark—or rather, this mysterious figure in a similar fashion—seemed to be studying you intently, his eyes piercing through your facade.

The sound of his cape billowing finally caught your attention. Roving over his figure, you observed his costume. A dried patch of blood littered his hand, pink lint from the fabric clinging to it. It resembled Omni-Man's and only struck you with confusion as your mind rang from your probable concussion. "Hey, are these giving you any trouble?" he asked, his body idly bobbing midair as he awaited an answer.

"Who are you, really? If you're Mark, why are you dressed like... well, like him?" You gestured to his costume, a near-perfect replica of Omni-Man's, complete with the red and white color scheme, only missing the distinctive 'O' emblem. He sighed, almost regretfully, as a realization seemed to dawn upon you. Omni-Man in his world was dead; just why did I have to run into this one?! He glided toward you with a strangely disturbing grace.

"I've come to defend you. There are many of us gathering over Chicago." Your question was swatted away like a fly as he continued. His response made you drop your guard, albeit naively, since there was no reason to trust him. He landed in front of you, dark goggles showing your reflection as he contemplated. "Why? What happened to me in your dimension?" you inquired.

He replied with the slightest look of pity and weariness. "She… was like a pet. Served her purpose and got in the way after I killed my father." His words made your heart drop. "I've been looking for you… for a new pet. So, understand me this time, and we can conquer together." The tone of his words was low, almost careful, like it somehow softened the demeaning blow. Every word was woven in silk, but underneath lay a quiet demand. His fingers gently wrapped around yours, his gloved thumbs ghosting over your knuckles.

Truthfully, he hated his dimensions version of you. Such a nuisance, but you were already proving to be more favorable. A glimpse into what you could've been.

"But you have more to offer than she did. She had no powers, no abilities… but she was cute while it lasted." A sense of sadness lingered in his voice as his eyes focused behind you, on the destruction your battle had caused.

"Fine, I'll let you protect me," you said, releasing his fingers.

"It’d be best if we stayed together at all times," he replied.

"I don’t think I could stomach being around you." It was a petty jab, spit with unintentional venom.

"I could change that," he quipped with the cockiness of his father, his palm outstretched to you.

Just how did you allow yourself to be swept away like this? Yes, the Mark you knew was the son of Omni-Man with morals; this one went against every principle you had when becoming a hero. Like father, like son. His words were sensitive, meticulously put together to string you along—not that you cared now, not with his fingers buried deep inside your cunt.

Somewhere along the way, he had flown you to Paris like some fancy vacation. The leveled city burned brightly, the embers painting your skin in a dewy orange that made you look so divine. The Eiffel Tower stood tall, almost as a harbinger of justice, and here you were, on the structure, being fingered by him. You let out a sharp cry as he started to stroke, his digits gliding through your wetness with ease. The very sight of your cunt had him in a hedonistic trance, his thumb slotting over your clit. He teased and circled, applying just the right amount of pressure to have your hips bucking beneath him. His pace quickened ever so slightly, reveling in the ridges of your pussy that he anticipated to hug him so snugly.

"You like that, don't you? You like it when I touch you like this?" he purred, watching as your face scrunched in pleasure. It wasn't like he needed a response; seeing your reaction was enough. Your abs began to tighten as your orgasm built, and just as your body lurched forward, his hands pulled away, leaving you clenching around air.

"You said that would be it," you whispered, watching as he smiled faintly, almost pleading. "I know, but it would be better this way… I can't monitor with just my fingers." He excused himself, and your eyes rolled sarcastically. "Last thing." It was a harsh spat that crawled from your throat and into his ear. "Last thing," he agreed—when you both knew he was the type to say that while fucking you senseless for the tenth time.

Against the cold metal, he spread your legs wide, his free hand freeing his weeping cock from its confinement. It's been punished enough for now. Clothes were shed quickly, eagerly, until you were both naked and pressed together, skin against skin. He hovered over you, his eyes roaming your exposed body hungrily. Circling his tip around your entrance, he finally pushed in, jaw clenching with a shaky exhale.

His hips began to build into a relentless pace, your bouncing legs wrapping firmly around him to pull him in deeper. He was becoming lost within you—quite literally—as your pussy swallowed him balls deep. No wonder his father remained active with Debbie; this was fucking godsent to him. Perhaps his words from earlier were no longer manipulation but the truth. He would vow to know you on a personal level later.

Moans of pleasure from you both echoed. He was shameless about his noise, enjoying the sound of skin slapping in the air. You could have sworn his particularly deep thrusts sent the tower shaking. Sweat formed on his brow as he concentrated, ab muscles flexing as he withheld his orgasm. Mark loved it here. He would do anything not to pull out. His body began to tremble with restraint, nearly convulsing with the overarching effort. Your bodies shifted with each powerful thrust. Lost in your own pleasure, you barely noticed your head now dangling from the structure.

His attempt at being romantic after destroying a city was dreadful. "Mark…!! Ah! I'm gonna fall, fuck—!" You wearily shouted, and he grimaced slightly, his fingers shoving themselves into your mouth to simulate sucking his cock as he watched you gag on them. "You know better… swearing doesn’t make you cool." He stated it so casually, as if he weren’t balls-deep inside you.

Flying you both into the air, his hands gripped your ass, fucking himself into you. His thrusts grew erratic, his whimpers barely contained. It was obvious—his toes curled in his shoes, his feet flexed, his eyes rolled back into his skull, the veins in his neck prominent. Clasping his chin, you focused his attention on you as your insides nearly squeezed him dry. It was your minute revenge. "T-Take what you… what you want." His lips were caught between his teeth. "I wo… won't stop you."

The words were weak, both of you heaving, breath fanning against each other's faces. Wrapping your legs tighter around him, and with bated breaths, he buried himself inside you, his cock pulsing as he came with a shout. Your fingers dug into his shoulders as he hissed, unable to stop himself. After realizing what he had done, he ironically cursed under his breath.

"S… shit, I should’ve come in your mouth; it would’ve been better," he muttered, disappointed in himself. Wrapping your bare body within his cape, he gingerly kissed you with praise. Suddenly, he observed heroes gathering within France to save the people. A grimace enveloped his face. He had enough decency to place you securely at your apartment before taking off.

HeadCap Mark “Oh…? And who do we have here?” He questioned rhetorically as his hand rested against his side. His overzealous grin beamed due to the obscurity of his facial features. Not to mention… was, was he bald? His appearance was a far cry from his much better counterpart; your eyes continued to rake over his appearance. “I… I don’t want to fight you. You look like my friend… I couldn’t.” You replied timidly, tension stunning your body. He landed soundlessly on his feet, his silence eerily reminiscent of a grinning cat—one that found joy in toying with its prey. There was dried blood riddled through his costume, his demeanor confident as he strutted towards you with his head held high. You were awfully perturbed, not noticing him already in front of you. “Well, this is gonna be fun.” He chirped as he gazed expectantly at you, his amusement only growing. “You know how hard it was to find you? Your friend's bug brother straightened me out on my way here.” A series of sharp, satisfying cracks from his spine echoed through your ears, each pop releasing tension like bubble wrap as they twisted. His octave dropped a notch as he leaned in.

“Now it's time to straighten you out,” The words were of insincere politeness, their meaning striking you upside the head. His fingers curled around your neck as he guided you backward. The cold metal of a now disheveled and crumpled car met your back. “Ah ah ah, don’t even think about it.” He whispered, your ear tingling from its warmth, your fingers relaxed at your side. The smile on his face was almost sweet as you complied, only begrudgingly allowing his touch. “Then move before I change my mind.” You snorted in response, it was scandalous; you’d never admit that the hand around your neck nearly made you weak. Just how could you reject a man so desperate to have you? He wasn’t going to deny you either; in fact, he felt almost obligated to show you he deserved this.

Roughly pushing you back against the hood of the car, his fingers climbed the length of your curves. The loud creak of the vehicle settling, the sputtering electricity of nearby landline wires, and the open air of dust filling your lungs made you feel truly exposed. Even without the removal of clothing. His tongue flicked over his lips, a brief, deliberate motion—like a cat after cream. The elastic fabric of his costume fell down his muscled legs, his hands eager as they jutted forward. It was rushed—he stripped the latex from your body with the urgency of a man digging for gold. Only then, when he saw the pretty lace covering such delicate areas, did an audible groan of delight scratch his throat. “Pretty.” He teased, his hands reaching into his boxers as they clung to his thighs. His dick was flushed a pale pink, longer than it was girthy, as bulging veins pathed their way to his tip. “Pretty.” You mimicked, legs spreading as he closed in like a moth to a flame. He left your bra and panties on, enjoying the sight too much to destroy them; he simply pulled the fabric aside to view your tits bounce and your pussy lips weep. 

His tip parted you like a river, his head hanging back as he bottomed out. Your walls fluttered to accommodate his length; if he wanted to, he could kiss your cervix. Your legs crossed over his shoulder, and his hips reared back before driving into you. Each thrust pushes you further up the car's hood, your breasts bouncing with the force of his movements. Your hands reached to clasp at anything behind you, only to find a shattered windshield to dig your fingertips into. He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as he watched you bounce on his cock; it was something deserving of a painting. His head turned, tongue slithering across the soles of your feet in a gesture of worship. As much as he didn't care about this world, in this moment, he was determined to make you feel like a goddess. His pace quickened, each stroke pushing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

The movements were entirely guided by lust; broken chuckles bubbled from his throat as moan after moan was ripped from him. Your eyes nearly lost focus, every stroke causing a slight bulge to imprint in your lower abdomen. Your moans encourage him to go deeper, to claim you entirely. “So… so much is d-different about this world, but this… t-this was made for me.” His lips grimaced as his hips purged through the trembles riddling his body. The car creaked as it rocked violently, his fluid motion throwing you against him in time with his thrusts. The street fills with the unfiltered sounds of your moans and the slap of skin against skin. You could feel your throat becoming raw; he was practically silenced, communicating with the tightening of your cunt and its impending orgasm. 

Propping yourself onto your hands, you leaned back slightly, one leg gingerly switching to his other shoulder, giving him a full view of how you drank him in. His thumb rolled tight circles around your clit, watching as your hole puckered so vigorously around him. A ring of your juices and what he couldn't discern as his pre-cum or cum sputtered against his pelvis. The sight was enough to tip him over the edge. “Come… all over my cock, mmm, like the good l-little ssslut you are!” He groaned, eyes darting between your folds and your eyes as he inhaled your intoxicating scent.

As he thrust into you with increasing fervor, you felt your body begin to tense, your walls clenching around him as your orgasm approached. He seemed to sense it, his movements becoming more erratic as he chased his own release. You cried out, fingernails scraping against the car's metal; his jaw clenched wearily as his knees grew weak. A grin etched across his face once more, eyebrows knitting upward as he sighed shakily. With frantic pacing, he waited until his eyes nearly crossed before pulling out and ejaculating on your stomach. 

You were winded, arms giving out as you rested against the car; he stared at you, unnaturally tired himself. But as he watched your juices bubble around your entrance, a new energy suddenly surged to his cock. “W-What do you think you’re doing?” He asked, stroking himself with a strangled whimper. “Mmm, I plan on using every inch of this car while I’m here.”

Hooded Invincible The momentary silence was deafening; the veiled mask drifted ever so slightly to show the grin lurking beneath. His costume had blood leaking down the front; the amount would suggest he’d been bested, yet he stood defiant and cocky before you. Just how powerful was he to remain standing? As you readied yourself for another battle, a sigh leaving your lips, his hands suddenly bound together over his head before slamming his full weight onto the concrete road. The rubble cracked beneath your feet, and a strong gust of wind slid you back. It wasn’t nearly as strong as anticipated. He was holding back. “You won't be enough. You’re not even a fraction of my power!” He enunciated every other word, making the insult feel a little more scathing.  “No wonder you get jumped so often, you fucking asshole.” You chided with annoyance. The dull ache in his head was the last thing he registered; the blow landed with a sickening thud, its crack making him stumble back slightly. “Oh, fuck off.” His return strike was swift, a flash of movement followed by a grunt of pain. You nearly crumpled, the floor rushing to meet you before you regained stability. He was quick to compliment, almost too eager. “Okay… I’ll admit, you’re stronger than I thought.” The feeling of his hands cupping around your wrist, dried blood flaking from his palm. “That’s not why I’m here though.” He finished, his yellow-tinted goggles reflecting off the sunlight, a faint glimpse of his eyes meeting yours. 

Just why did they have to have the warmth of your friends? This was making it difficult to hate him. “Not interested.” You deadpanned, arms tugging within his grasp. He sucked his teeth with an exasperated sigh. “I don’t remember you being this fucking mouthy.” His head cocking slightly to view your expression change like his personal performance. “Wrong dimension; I’m not her.” Your words made him pause as that grin made its Broadway appearance. “Nah, you’re better; I love it when my girls are a bitch.” He taunted, your eyes searching for an escape route as he mentally dismissed him. “C’mon give me a chance.” The words dripped from his lips, less of a plea and more of a certainty. You couldn’t deny he had certainly piqued your interest in more ways than one. Suddenly, a pair of calloused fingertips ran a strip down the center of your costume, the fabric outlining a faint camel toe. His fingers pressed against the indent of your pussy lips, a desired dampness nearly causing him to groan. “Oh, you’re fucked.” He said with mocking restraint. In almost an instant you were dragged into an alleyway and, with the weight of a feather, flipped upside down. “Put me down! What are you doing?!” you grit out, but the words lacked conviction, lost in the echo of his ragged breath. 

He ignored your plea, fingers now deftly parting your swollen lips, teasing the clit that throbbed insistently through your costume. Your question is more of a criticism of his crassness. “Relax, you’ll like this.” He brushed off every critique, his focus narrowing to the only thing that mattered—his next dessert. A firm finger dug into the fabric above your cunt before the screeching sound of fabric tearing. It was better than he imagined; his tongue already sought a taste as he admired the view. "That's it. I know you want this." His tongue flicked out, tracing a wet path from your clit to your swollen opening. A jolt of electricity shot through you, silencing you momentarily as your hands dug into his hip. He chuckled again, pleased with your reaction. "See? Already loving it." His response made your pleasure-filled veins run cold. 

Returning the favor through shaky moans of your own, your fingers tore through the fabric of his clothing, leaving little time for him to react as your teeth sorted through the pocket of his boxers before his cock sprang out. Its tip was greeted with fervent kisses as a guttural growl rumbled from behind his veil. His tongue, hot and demanding, flicked out, tracing the sensitive flesh. A gasp escaped your lips, a mix of grit and nascent pleasure. He lapped at you with deliberate strokes, teasing and testing your limits. The fluttering of his tongue grew desperate to draw more sounds from you as you writhed. That was until his toes curled upon a pair of nails dragging down the length of his swollen, veiny cock. He grumbled a string of curses, his tongue pursuing the ravage you in the wake of this being a competition. With practiced ease, your lips parted, bubbles of spit gathering around his tip as you toyed with him. “Fuuuuck me,” he sighed. You took him in, the softness of your mouth enveloping him as you began to move, your head bobbing rhythmically. The swirl of your tongue was like pleasant lashings against his cock. Your throat relaxed as your nose met the tightening sack of his balls; he was losing his ability to resist. Every so often, you would flatten your tongue, ruining what might’ve been the build-up of his orgasm.

Your combined groans echoed mindlessly in the alleyway. With a clenched jaw, he flipped you right side up, your hands dragging across the pavement momentarily. The sight of him frazzled you, his hair disheveled from the clenching of your thighs, and the front of his veiled mask drenched in your taste. “How do you even have the energy to still hold me?” You asked, bewildered as he chuckled. “You underestimate my power.” His response made your eyes roll, and you both were winded nonetheless. He shifted again, his hands now gripping your thighs, spreading them wider. He positioned himself between your legs, his hard cock pressing against your clit, a tantalizing promise of what was to come. As he penetrated the twitching valley of your warmth, you both responded to one another with a moan. A sound of pure, unadulterated need. Holy fuck was he glad you couldn’t see his face, he was holding on by a thread, eyebrows furrowed with a quivering lip. “You probably… would’ve made me cum a-already if you didn’t keep playing.” He rasped, somewhat annoyed. “Shut the fuck up and keep going.” He couldn’t argue, his grip tightened against your upper thigh. With every drawback, you tightened around him threatening to suck him in. Through labored breaths, his jaw went slack, as his body nearly locked up on him. “Haa… ha… haa! You r-ready?” He drawled, dick pumping into you with his last shrivels of energy before his dick milked him dry inside you. 

You both remained in somewhat of a daze. That’s when the familiar clang of Cecil's reAnimen echoed in the distance. Setting you down with a strange gentleness, he promised his return… leaving you with a hole in your pants. "Fuck."

Masked Invincible

“Finally…” He whispered; you could’ve sworn his eyebrows creased from beneath his mask; the full obscurity of his features made him difficult to identify. “Mark…?” You questioned, his shoulders drooping slightly as a relieved sigh left him. His costume was barely recognizable if it weren't for the signature black and blue, his frosted lenses left little to be discovered. The instinct of danger and to fight was suddenly drained from you as he spoke. “We didn’t all make the same deal.” He approached, desperation weighing down his shoulders. “It doesn’t matter, Mark, you all murdered thousands… I don’t know you. I don’t care to hear you plead your case.” Your response stunted his movements as the sound of padded feet quickened their pace.

“I—I know, but it was for a good reason, I swear.” He continued with a slight stutter, his hands gesturing to his chest. This somehow felt manipulative. “I liked it here… I came back to bring you and my mom back with me. We can start over.” His hands clung to your shoulders as he spoke, fingernails digging into the flesh. “And why would I do that?” You inquired, your gaze hardening as you anticipated a response. “Because… because I need you.” The delivery was purely pathetic, a voice cracked, edging his words as he nearly pleaded. 

Considering the whole ordeal, it didn’t sound like an awful offer. However, it would be unsafe to assume the woman you once loved in the past is the same in every dimension. His submission might’ve unlocked a new kink you were unaware of, the sentiment tugging at your heartstrings. He was similar to the Mark you knew, emotional, but this one felt far more dangerous, a dog off its leash. You began to lie through your teeth if it meant having a variant as an ally rather than an enemy; then so be it.

“Okay. I’ll come with you if—.” Your words were abruptly sawed off as his hands hastily lifted half his mask and his lips found yours with fever. He brushed his lips against hers, featherlight, as if testing the moment—savoring it. He sighed into the kiss, his hands cradling your face, drawing you closer, deepening the space between breath and bliss. His fingertips dug into your skull as he was encased in your warmth. Just how could he have ever let this go? Not this time, no, he would do better. He’s imagined this countless times. 

Hands quickly shifting to your hips, he decided your apartment was best. Being on his best behavior would convince you more, right? Landing on the balcony, he slid open the door as you shuffled backward into the kitchen. You both pulled away, erratic breaths dampening one another's faces. Interestingly, as his costume loosened and pooled around his ankles, the mask remained. He seemed truly hellbent on keeping it on, not that you paid any mind. Slowly tugging each article of clothing from your body, he watched as if hypnotized. It was nearly comical watching him progressively become aroused as seconds ticked by. Guiding him into a chair, he manspread to allow you plenty of room once you straddled him, feet hooking against his inner thigh. His tip pierced through you, giving you little time to adjust as gravity pulled you downwards. Your puffy lips cushion him between hungry blows, combined arousal leaving a stringy mess in his lap.

Gripping your hips, his jaw clenched as he assisted you in riding him, the pace solely reliant on his stamina. "Wait, wait, slow down," you gasp, trying to regain control. But he's too far gone, his lust clouding his judgement. He grips your hips tighter, slamming you down on his cock with a bruising force. The pleasure is intense, bordering on pain, but you can't deny how much you're enjoying it. He leans forward, his masked face inches from yours. "I—I can't slow down," he pants, his breath hot against your skin. "I've wa… wanted this for so long. Needed this."

You can feel him throbbing inside you, his desire for you evident. But you need to take back control, to show him who's in charge here. You grip his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as your ass meets the meat of his thighs from your efforts to ride him. He groans, his head falling back as you take what you want from him. "F-fuck, yeesss," he hisses, his hands moving to your ass, squeezing and spreading it. "Take it all; take everything I have to give." It was his most coherent sentence, just barely, as his voice cracked with a whimper. Your moans began to mingle until it was a harmony unable to differentiate. The sound bouncing off the walls sounded ten times louder than it was. His nose scrunched from beneath his mask, jaw flexing with an effort to remain sane.

"I am. And I'm going to use you until I'm satisfied." He shudders beneath you, his cock twitching inside you at your words. You can tell he likes this, likes being used and controlled by you. After all he’s done, he’d gladly let you go for today. Your hips slammed against his with every downward thrust. The sounds of skin meeting rang in your ears, a whine of pleasure filling your lungs as unrestrained sounds began to filter. His pubic hair caused delicious friction against your clit as he began to grow sloppy. He reaches up, his hands cupping the back of your shoulders to hold you in place as he rams into you. The added stimulation sends you closer to the edge, your body tensing as your orgasm approaches.

"C-...Cum for me," he growls, his eyes watching you intently with the goal of watching your face contort in lust. "Fuck… fuck… fuck, yes! G-Give it to me! Please…!" His voice nearly gave out as he came with a shout, finally being able to make you his. You soon followed after, collapsing on his chest as remnants of a moan leave your lips. It takes a while for you two to finally gather your bearings; he pulls his mask down, a smile etched into the fabric, before that damned voice calls out within his ear. “I’m sorry… I—I have to go. I'll come back for you.” He stutters, reluctantly leaving and flying into the murky horizon.

This was actually fun to type up. PLEASE IGNORE ME IF YOU SEE ME EDITING GRAMMAR MISTAKES LMFAO.

[vinnyvamppp]

Hello! Can I request something with Mohawk mark? Or Sinister mark? (Or both 👀) preferably smut ?

Taking Turns

Note: WHY OF COURSEEEE, I'm so sorry if this is lackluster, after writing part two of the "To Be Desired" blog, I was BURNT. (P.S. If it ever gets confusing, I placed an "M" and "S" in certain areas to differentiate the two!)

Warnings: NSFW, Gential Slapping, Fingering, Head (male receiving), Nipple Play, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Pussy Eating, Threesome, Hickeys, Insults (slut ONCE), Dom!Invincible Variants, Sub!Reader, Porn w no Plot, Both are being played and don't know it, etc.

Sinister Invincible x Fem!Reader x Mowhawk Mark

Word Count: 1,665

Just how long has it been? An hour, perhaps two.

The night was young, and the party was just getting started. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, sex, and desire as his voice pulsed through your ears like a pleasant drum. A cocktail of pheromones and adrenaline thick enough to taste.

Mark’s head was pressed snuggly in the crook of your neck, the hairs of his mohawk splayed across your cheek as it tickled you. He watches for a moment, his fingers cupping the outside of your clothed sex, a smirk playing on his lips. “Holy shit… can you hear how wet you are?” He asks, his fingertips splaying your folds apart beneath the fabric. The sound alone sends shivers down your spine as the calloused pads of his hand stimulate you mildly.

His fingers traveled upwards to the hem of your panties before yanking them down, the cloth tearing with ease as you gasped. “Relax; I can always buy you more. You’d look so fucking sexy in white,” he reconciled, his lips latching onto your neck like a suction cup as he riddles your skin with bite marks, the contrast swelling him with pride. Heat radiated between you, the feeling of his cool tongue against your fevered skin sending electric shocks down your spine. Every shift makes your nerve endings hypersensitive and hyper-aware.

His groans vibrate beneath your skin as you shift against him, your ass seeking to relieve the dick prodding your lower back. His hand spreads your thighs further, smacking the lips of your cunt as he denies your every advance.

Fingers delving into your slick folds have you seeing stars; just how did this happen? You couldn’t be bothered to rationalize as his pace quickened, the dampness causing loud squelches to echo from between your legs. The pace quickened as he continued his sensual assault, fingers curling as his thumb circled your clit unnaturally fast. Your head lolled back, legs spreading wider as he applied pressure. “That’s right… fucking slut—.” He grunted as your fingernails dug into his thighs; he had gotten too comfortable to remember how feisty you could be.

No matter… he intended to break you down. Your body was already quivering from the meticulous game he played to tease and leave you writhing for more. As your hips bucked into his fingers, his hand moved from your thighs up the curves and valleys of your figure until he slapped your tit. The sting caused you to groan; he was enjoying having free rein currently. His fingers began to tweak your nipples as he licked a stripe up your nape.

That was until S. Mark approached, eyes landing on the sight in front of him. “Looks like someone is enjoying themselves.” He said, plastering that smile on, he stared with such a demeaning expression. Embarrassment flooded your veins. “Well, shit, it took you long enough…” He complained behind you, fingers only picking up the pace as your body attempted to crane away from his touch.

Padded footsteps fill your ears as Mark approaches, fingers clasping your chin as he beams down at you. “Not so fast; we’re not done yet. haven’t had my turn.” He explained, before moving to the other side of your lips, connecting with yours in unparalleled fever. Soft, chapped lips graze against tender skin, sending shivers down his spine.

The gentle pressure builds, your breath swallowing every groan vibrating from his throat. The pads of his fingers follow the red rash blistering from M. Mark’s earlier smack to the sweetened buds of your breast, essentially knocking his hands out of view. With the dual stimulation, your hips grind into the touch and your body gravitates towards its pleasure. Pulling away from the kiss, his eyes fell between your legs; you were practically dripping from being fingered.

“Look at you… pathetic. You couldn't make it to the real thing before you came, could you?” He asked rhetorically. He was toying with you, and he knew it. The sharp edge of his smile made it clear—this was as much a test as it was an indulgence. The pressure built at a slow, torturous pace, the kind that made time stretch to test his patience. His eyes ravaged you more than he could ever wish for physically.

Suddenly, the men flipped you sideways, laying you on your back as one's lips parted your cunt and the other's tongue toyed with your sensitive neck and breasts. Each is branded with a new set of hickeys. Both tongue-lashed tingles across your skin, your jaw ticking as you withheld noises; only then would their pursuits become brutal as a pair of teeth gently tugged against your chest. The sharp edge of their teeth against your skin was a paradox—pain and pleasure, warning and invitation, leaving behind a phantom sensation even after they pulled away.

“Ready?” A voice from between your legs spoke, his Mohawk coming into view as he stroked his cock, the tip a beaded red. Slamming himself inside you, his teeth gritted as he nearly let out a pathetic groan. Both men paused, staring at one another as you grew confused from the wind being knocked out of you. “Did you…?” Mark asked, with a condescending grin. “W-What? Fuck no, she’s just… tight.” He replied, shoving the man with annoyance. “You’re both pathetic, like a virgin, you can’t even handle—.” He started, only to be cut off by the sweet warmth welcoming his cock into your mouth.

They both paused before timing their hips as they began long strokes. Your walls clenched around him so deliciously, and your throat began to relax as you gagged on the length traveling down your throat. “H-...H- Shit… relax, babe.” He pleaded as his hips began to plow from below, his grip tight enough to bruise. The other Mark was nearly silenced: “F-fuck, I love it when you gag. Can’t… wait to see you cum on that cock.” He heaved, causing you to chuckle. The vibrations racing shivers through him.

It's a steady, strong rhythm as their hips begin to break out of tandem and grow sloppy. The obscene wet sounds of your cunt being pounded echoed through the room, mixing with their grunts and moans of pleasure. Your cries of ecstasy were muffled by the thick cock stuffed down your throat, pupils blown from lack of oxygen.

“Such a c-creamy pussy; why didn’t… I do this shit sooner?” Mark asked from between your thighs as his legs trembled with effort. “So pretty... l-like a doll. C'mon, cum for me… Don't be stubborn.” He said from above, although strangled as they both moaned a cacophony of sounds. It didn't take long; you simply felt too divine. How could they both stop, especially when your punishment had yet to be dealt with? They bring themselves to the brink of ecstasy, holding you there until their bodies are begging for release.

Only then do they finally come, your body buzzing from pleasure. Their releases just barely land on your body, fighting the urge to fill you to the brim as they groan and shudder above you. “This isn’t over.” One says, “Hey… we’re switching… need to feel that pussy before she’s too fucked out.” The other said,. The game continued like this, the men taking turns pounding into your dripping cunt and forcing you to choke on their cocks. That's what made it fun. The sight, the sensation, the thrill.

Every time they came close to filling you with their seed, they would switch, denying themselves the warmth of your cum coating their dicks. You could only have dry orgasms thanks to Mohawk Mark, but the sight of two strong men groaning pathetically above you was nice. Until they’re exhausted, you’ll keep playing this game.

Your eyes flickered open, the morning light barely peeking through the curtains. You must have lost consciousness. The weight of the two men pressing against you was heavy, but you didn't dare move. You had a part to play, after all. Not to mention your body ached from overusage.

As they began to stir, you kept your breathing even, feigning sleep. Inside, however, your mind was racing. You had them right where you wanted them—utterly spent and vulnerable. It was time to tighten the noose.

Sinister Mark was the first to wake, his hand instinctively reaching for your breast. You bit back a smirk as he grunted in confusion, his cock already beginning to harden against your thigh. Good, he was always so easy to manipulate when gratified.

Mohawk Mark wasn't far behind, his morning wood prodding against your ass. You couldn't help but let out a soft moan, arching your back slightly. Both men froze, their hands pausing in their exploration of your body.

"What are you doing?" Mohawk Mark asked, his voice gruff with sleep and suspicion. You turned your head to face him, your eyes wide and innocent. "What do you mean? I thought you wanted this." You purred, nipping at his bottom lip. Mark scoffed from your other side. "Don't play dumb, slut. We know you're up to something."

You laughed, the sound low and sultry. "Oh, y'know. I'm just a girl who loves to please." You reached between your legs, wrapping your hand around both of their cocks and giving them a slow stroke. "Isn't this what you both want? To use me, fill me, make me your little fuck toy?"

The men exchanged a glance, their resolve crumbling under your touch. You could see it in their eyes—the hunger, the desperation. They were already falling back under your spell.

"I think it's time for round two, don't you?" You whispered, biting your lip. "Let's see how many times you can make me cum before you're both completely spent." And with that, you flipped onto your hands and knees, presenting yourself to them on a platter. The game was back on, and you were more than ready to play.

Tada! (I totally didn't just edit another 600 words into this.)

[vinnyvamppp]

pls ignore that one anon, i loooooved to be desired so much and your writing is great!!!!

You guys are actually so sweet. The second part will be out soon due to an influx of overlapping requests! I hope you guys will enjoy that one as well. The support is appreciated!!! 💞

[vinnyvamppp]

Hello! Wanted to say PLEASEEEEE PLEASEEEE keep flooding the invincible tag with your WELL written fics Urghhh I love them so much !

THIS BRIGHTENED MY DAYYYY! I have a few more requests coming out today, thank you so much!

[vinnyvamppp]

my new years resolution for 2025:

1. get hotter

2. lesbian sex

[vinnyvamppp]

How Bad Do U Want Me?

A/N: is this the result of me being sleep deprived and yearning? well, yes! Hopefully someone can enjoy this, and this was heavily inspired by Lady Gaga’s how bad do u want me from her new album, Mayhem. Have a great day/night and please let me know if you liked it, want more of this, or more invincible content! I love this show and this song and was thinking reader was like a cat woman/black cat to mark grayson’s invincible, so if he’s OOC, I apologize! Also, fem!reader, some fluff, angst, and a little smutty if you squint!!

WC: 708

The windows are open. That’s the first thing Mark notices as he flies to your bedroom and peers in, seeing your lights are still on. It’s as though your bedroom is a lighthouse, the calm in the storm as he hovers, watching you. You’re sat at your desk, typing, no doubt working on a paper or assignment for a class. He hesitates as he comes closer to your bedroom window before finally calling out.

You whip your head around before sighing in relief, smiling at his appearance.

“I don’t know if anyone’s told you this, but it’s really not cool to sneak up on a girl like this.”

He rubs the back of his neck nervously as he enters through the window, taking his mask and goggles off, placing them haphazardly on your nightstand.

“Maybe once or twice. I missed you.”

You walk toward him and place your hands around his neck.

“Aww, you missed me? I think you’re turning soft, Invincible.”

He scoffs as he places his hands around your waist, pulling you closer until he rests his head against yours.

”Maybe. But I know you like it.”

You sigh in his embrace and rub his back comfortingly.

“Yeah. I do. But there’s something I like a little more.”

”And what’s that?” He asks as he looks at you, sensing the darkening look in your eyes as you move to sit on your bed.

“Let me show you.”

You pull him next to you, and then your lips meet his. The only sound in the room is your mouths moving against one another as his hands trail along your body, shifting until you end up on top of him as he lays his head down against your pillows. You grind your hips against his as he rolls his own in time with your own movements. He helps take your shirt off and sits back in awe.

“I’ll never get tired of these baby.”

You roll your eyes teasingly and pull him into another kiss. Your lips smack as you help him out of the top of his own suit, hands roaming over his chest. You lean down and suck a mark onto his collarbone.

Mark whimpers, smiling as he says, “Be a good girl for me tonight.”

”Oh, come on. I know you like when I’m bad.”

He rolls on top of you, pinning your hands together above your head. He pulls you into another searing kiss and as he pulls away you look at him lovingly.

You moan loudly which Mark swallows with another kiss, not pulling away this time until you’re panting. He sucks and licks, teasing you, and as he nips your ear you turn your head away and giggle.

“Mmmm, Mark. We can’t go any further.”

A perplexed look crosses his face, a frown gracing his handsome features.

“What? Why?” He lets go of his grip on your hands, looking down at you in complete confusion.

You pull yourself up as he rolls next to you, whispering into his ear, “It’s time to wake up Mark.”

He laughs, a failed attempt to lighten the mood.

“What are you talking about?”

“Wake up.”

“Mark, wake up! What’s going on in there?”

He wakes up groggily, feeling around until he realizes…right.

“One second, Mom!”

He tugs on a shirt, and sweatpants, opening the door and seeing his mom waiting expectantly.

“You slept in late today? Everything alright?”

“Y-Yeah. Sorry. Just had a late night last night.”

Debbie sighs and apologizes as she explains, “I know you got in late, I’m sorry honey. It’s terrible how that hero wannabe Nightshade is prowling around, as though she’s helping anybody.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m just gonna take it easy today.”

Mark closes the door, sighing in relief. That—that dream, it was just that. A dream. It couldn’t mean anything really, could it? No, no surely it couldn’t. After all, like his mom said, you’re some new sort of vigilante, and according to Cecil, a public nuisance only helping others when it benefited you. But still, some part of him deep down wonders, maybe you could be like the girl he remembers in high school. A good girl, a girl that isn’t so bad.