I Dare You To Say Anything About It Too Because If U Even Lightlyyy Express That Ur Fed Up He's Gonna

Viltrumite Mark be like “come to Viltrum”

If your even a littleeee nice to Hawks like literally saying 'Good morning' level nice he will absolutely latch onto you. He's definitely a stray dog you've never even fed once but for some reason keeps howling at your front door at five in the morning when you're just trying to sleep.

You can't even shake him off by switching it up and being rude btw. Because he only clings to you MORE because he feels like he did something wrong (exist, in this case...) and wants to make up for it.

And the thing is, he's very very good at being able to tell where he's not wanted. But he doesn't even care about wanted, (at a surface level, anyway.) he just believes that you deserve the best life on earth and that inherently everyone deserves more rights and more autonomy than him and that's ittttt!!! That's it, I tell you.

Well, anyway...welcome to Phase Three, where you think you have finally shaken him off, but in actuality he is now keeping tabs on you 24/7 and you will never be free from his clutches. Congrats on the freak ! He's yours now !!!! Yippee

ִֶָ࣪☾. | Sinister.

ᥫ᭡. Part two! (Part 1 here)

Tags: canon-typical violence, pwp (porn with plot), cunnilingus, oral sex (f receiving), interrupted sex, sinister mark is his own warning.

Silently, you read on your soft, large bed. The one that you’d told Mark to get you after he had kindly snapped the last one’s framework in half.

Afterwards, you’d tried to convince him to sleep on the pull-out couch downstairs. Unfortunately, he had thought you were making a less-than-clever joke. 

Even with the window closed shut and the curtains drawn, you could still hear the destruction and the screams of agony from outside; and it was creating a serious detriment to your train of thought. You can’t focus if you’re rudely interrupted by a cry or a pained scream after reading a single sentence. 

You let out an annoyed groan when you hear a goddamn gun go off, and decide to take matters in your own hands. Or rather, dump them on Mark. 

You place your bookmark with little cats on it in the page you’ve stopped, a paw extending to point to the last sentence you read. Then, you hop off the bed to draw open the curtains and open the window. You don’t bother to direct your gaze downwards, where the murder and destruction occurs. 

“Mark!” You call out loudly. You wait for a few seconds, keeping an eye on the sky as you wait. Your expression warps to a more annoyed the longer he takes. “Maaaark!” 

Amidst the polluted sky, you see something like a sonic boom approach from far away. When he’s a couple hundred meters close, he steadily slows down, angling his feet forward to slow himself further. Till finally, he’s face level with you. 

“Yes?” He says with a grin. 

“What took you so long? I’ve been waiting here forever.” 

He sighs, “Baby, I was in Rome. You know how far away that is?” You roll your eyes, “Pretty damn far away.” 

He leans in through the window and plants a kiss, “If you want, I can take you with me right now.” He says musically.

You shake your head and smirk, “Lovely offer, but no.” Then, a frown takes place on your lips, leading you back to the reason you called him, “Mark, I can’t pay attention. I'm trying to read that stupid book, but I can't.” You gesture to your ears, “Everything is so loud.” 

In that exact moment, an explosion goes off. Mark genuinely thinks about it for a moment, offering a solution, “So, do you want to live somewhere more remote?” 

“No. I don’t want to live in a wasteland.” 

“So do you want me to kill everyone here?” 

“But then who will I talk to?” You complain. 

He sighs, “Can’t you just deal with it?” You frown, and he eats up his words, “Okay. Fine, fine.” You can practically see him roll his eyes, even with his ridiculous goggles. “But I want pasta for dinner.” 

You pout, “That’s what we had last night!” 

He grins, “But not from Italy.” 

He gives you a last, parting kiss, and then darts away. You nearly tip over at the force of it, then wipe your lips with a groan. You close the window and shut the curtains. 

For a few, particularly annoying moments. There’s nothing but annoying loud noise. You try to keep your mind off of it by plugging in your headphones and listening to the songs you’ve saved. 

You walk over to the bookcase in the room, pristine and untouched. After the fiasco a few nights ago, you refused him when he wanted to put it back in its original spot in the living room. Instead, you decided on keeping the nook close to your heart, and you. In the bedroom. 

You run your fingers across the rows of books. By the time you find that same, slightly tampered with book, the noise has dispelled, leaving you in a comforting silence. You hum along to the song as you open the book. 

The book that you are fairly sure that you hadn’t possessed before your fight. You don’t know what had compelled you to look for a book you didn’t own that night. But somehow, you knew you needed that book, and you knew it was just within your reach. 

For some strange reason, the man that had opened a portal to your dimension –Angstrom Levy– was not keen on grabbing your Mark by the scruff and chucking him to a lovely reality he can ruin for his own enrichment. Or, that’s what you thought the idiot’s thought process was. Who the fuck knows what he’s thinking, really. 

The book is on how dimensions work, how people that can open realities do that, and most importantly, how people who can’t inherently create a hole in the fabric of reality, learn how to. 

Interesting stuff. 

On the armchair near the bookcase, your legs are pulled to you and you drape a blanket over your lap. You take a sip of your warm cup of tea and set it down on the small coffee table next to you. 

You open to where you stopped, and begin to read. 

You have read this book more than a few times over the last couple days since you discovered it’s existence. During that time, you’ve found it’s less been a long read, and more a tough read. You’re trying your best to wrap your head around the idea before you even begin to attempt it. Because you only really get one chance. One chance to get rid of your Mark. And if you fail? Well, then you can kiss kicking Mark’s ass out of this reality goodbye. 

The entire late afternoon, you spend it in your reading nook, repeating over and over what you have to do to open a portal to a different reality. 

When seven o’ clock strikes, you hear the familiar click of the front door. And before you could even lift your face to see, you’re met face-to-face with Mark. 

He sees the book you’re reading, “I see you’re making good use of your time.” He kisses your cheek, “I’ll take a quick shower and meet you downstairs. I won’t take too long.” You suppose the last part was meant to be a threat. 

***

At the dinner table, you twirl your fork around the spaghetti, then push the spikes of it into a meatball, before putting it in your mouth. As you chew, you hum pleasantly. 

He watches your expression with a keen eye, a grin on his lips at his triumph. “See? I told you it wouldn’t be cold. You just like to complain.” 

You swallow. “It’s a little cold.” You don’t want him to think he did an amazing job and get too full himself. 

He throws his hands up and furrows his eyebrows at you, “No! It isn’t!” You just shrug. 

The rest of the dinner continues to be a series of cutlery clinking with each other as you silently eat. Per usual, Mark’s face is screwed up into a frown.

“So,” He tries to start, “How’s the book you were reading going along?” You look at him with an eyebrow raised, and he groans, “The one with the angsty guy.” 

You sigh and correct him, “Angstrom.” You take a sip of wine, it’s painfully good. “And I already told you, I can’t open a portal. It’s impossible. You have to be born with it.” 

You fall into yet another uncomfortable silence. And the cycle continues with Mark trying to speak up, “Well, what about those other books you were reading? The one with the dragons and princesses and whatever.” 

Each time, you respond as curtly as physically possible, and the dinner ends with you throwing the dishes in the garbage. Because who does dishes at the end of the world, anyway? 

Without needing to be told, you hop on the marble counter and let Mark slip between your legs. He holds your hips as gently as possible (for him, anyway) as he kisses your lips. But as the kisses become more heated, his grip on you tightens, and you repress an annoyed sigh. He’s such a goddamned brute it’s almost aggravating. 

He picks you up by the back of your thigh without cutting off the kiss, a show of his strength. You wrap your arms around his neck and let him kiss you on the table where you were eating at. You let him suck at your lips against the living room couch, and you let him mark your neck against the stairs, before finally carrying you up into the bedroom. 

Along the way, there is a mess of a trail of clothes. He throws you onto the bed and takes his underwear and pants down in one go. He kicks them away and crawls to you, planting kisses down your neck. 

“You’re so fucking…” He grabs your waist tightly, “bitchy without even trying.” He bites the column of your neck harshly, then again on the other side. You yelp both times. “You know how goddamn annoying you are?” 

He’s taking his frustrations out on dinner, and every dinner, on you. And you won’t have that. You slap his back, he shudders, “Either do it right or get off of me.” You grit. 

He just groans, “God, I hope that leaves a mark.” He kisses down your body. Starting from the middle of your chest, to your stomach, all the way down to your pelvis. With how impatient he is, it doesn’t take long before he plants a wet kiss directly on your folds. Your thighs instinctively cage his head. He snickers. 

“Oh…” He chuckles breathily against your cunt, making your spine shiver. “Missed this fucking cunt.” 

You don’t, or rather can’t, comment on how it’s only been two days since the two of you last had sex, because he decides to put his face directly into your pussy, licking at it. His mouth finds your clit, and latches on it, sucking. 

You immediately grip his dark hair, moaning. Your breath turns ragged as he leaves your clit a sensitive, puffy mess. “D-Don’t tease.” You grumble, but it sounds more like a whimper. 

He licks a stripe along your folds in response, “Baby, I’ll do whatever the fuck I want, ‘cause this is my pussy. You fucking got that?” He licks along your folds insistently, making you squirm. 

When you don’t reply, he slaps your hip, “You got that?” and you nod immediately, amusing him. As a reward, he slips a finger inside your wet core, and your breath is caught in your throat. 

Without bothering to let you get used to the feeling, he starts to slip it in and out. The lewd squelching sounds please him, and he returns his attention back to your clit. 

“M-Mark–” You barely say, your leg jerking, “Wait–” 

He takes that as an invitation to slip a second finger inside of you, making you gasp. He crooks them, trying to find your most sensitive spot, and he catches it when you scream. 

Determined to make you cum, each thrust of his fingers lands on your g-spot. Your head thrashed against the pillow, and your body jerks, trying to get away from him. But you’re pretty sure you’d cry if he did. 

He takes turns sucking on your clit, and marking your inner thighs. Every movement and jerk makes you flex, and he grips your thigh, “Stay fucking still, yeah?” 

You try, but it’s asking the impossible. Mark goes down on you again, eating at your pussy with renewed fervor. Curse viltrumite stamina. Or bless it. 

You feel the feeling in your stomach boil over, and you barely have time to warn him before he makes you come with a scream. You cry, and your cum lands on his mouth, making a mess, and he eagerly laps up your release. You breathe quickly, your thighs squeezing around him so hard his skull might bash in if he wasn’t superhuman.  

Eventually, you come down. Though your breath still comes in sharp inhales as you try to calm yourself. You realize it’s impossible with Mark still in between your legs. You try to push him off you as he licks at your inner thigh, “Mark—” You whine, “Enough. Stop. It hurts.” 

With one last lick, he finally gets up from between your legs. His tongue darts from his lips to clean them of your release. He crawls on top of you and kisses beneath your jaw, his hands going to feel your body up and down.

“Well it’s about to hurt a lot more. Because you’re such a sweetheart, and you’ll let me finish inside of you.” He squeezes your waist, “Won’t you?” 

Your cunt automatically pulses like a sleeper agent, and you feel the waves of arousal come back to you in an instant. Yes, the fuck. You are a goddamned sweetheart. The sweetest, even. 

You can’t help yourself from wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him, which he responds to with a pleasant moan. He grabs the side of your head and sucks at your lips, like he’s trying to eat them. But you don’t care. You want to have him. And you want him right now. 

His tongue slips between your kiss-bitten lips, and you feel his hardness push against your inner thigh. So close, yet so completely far away. 

“Mark.” You moan, “Mhm?” he says back, and you take a second to lay back down, looking up at his sickly sweet puppy eyes. Pretty eyes that are clouded over with lust. 

You let out a sound that’s like a whine. “Please? Now?” He chases after you like a puppy, immediately connects your lips again. 

“Yea, mmm, fuck. Yeah, okay.” 

He rubs his cock against your inner thigh, and it barely grazes your core, making you whine. You’ll die if you don’t get to have him inside of you right now. You wrap your legs around the small of his back, letting him know. 

He continues to kiss you like he’s starved, practically trying to melt your lips into each other as he humps your inner thigh. 

You feel sweat cling to your skin and Mark’s breathing becomes more frequent. 

He sits up on his haunches and strokes the underside of his cock, his eyes rolling back atthe pleasure. You swallow, enraptured by his display as he pumps his dick right in front of you. “You want this?” 

You look into his eyes with as much desperation as you’re trying to convey: yes. Oh my god, yes. 

He looks down at you with half-lidded eyes, and he brings your thighs around his hips. You help him without hesitation. Your body racks with nerves and anticipation as you eye his dick. Excitement bubbles up in your core. 

Just as you think he’s about to slam into you as roughly as he always does, he’s suddenly snapped out of his lusty haze, his face becoming more alert as he glances around the room. He quickly turns his head up to look at the window. Wordlessly, he jumps out of bed with speed and peels back the curtains. 

You know better than to even call out his name, so you lift the covers up to your chest and try to see what he’s seeing, sitting up. 

From the exact opposite side of the room, there’s a crackle, and an otherworldly sound fills the room as a bright green portal opens up. Instantly, it casts the room in its unrealistic, brilliant green. 

It continues to swirl in on itself, as it had done that fateful night. 

Mark looks at you, as if you’d done that, and you snort, “Yeah cause i’d have enough concentration to warp reality while we have sex.” 

He groans, not at all pleased with the turn of events. “Well, if you’re soo concentrated, close it back up again.” 

“And what the hell makes you think I can do that?” 

While the two of you bicker, a figure emerges from the portal, and your eyes flit to it on instinct. Meanwhile, Invincible’s instinct is to pull back his fist, ready to kill. 

Your jaw falls open as what emerges from the portal is not like anything you’ve seen. It’s a man, with a large, gross-looking head. He wears an inelaborate suit with a dramatic red cape. You turn your head and frown in distaste. 

You’ve always associated Mark with being some kind of freak accident, but this guy clearly takes the cake for being a mutant abnormality. 

“Invincible.” He declares, and in your opinion, ridiculously. “I have a proposal.” 

So it seems that’s what mutants say instead of ‘Hello.’ these days. 

You squint your eyes at the man. He seems familiar, but at the same time not at all so. 

“Angstrom?” You say, before Invincible almost punches through his guts with a yell. 

Instead, he catches himself and merely shoves him to the wall opposite, creating a crater. He looks back at you, “This guy?” He asks incredulously. You can only nod. 

“Thank you for your hospitality, I'm sure you’re known for it.” Angstrom groans after being struck. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask against your better judgement.

“Well, I wanted to give you guys some privacy so you can finish up.” He looks to Invincible, “But I don’t have all day for you to get off, too. And it’s as they say, ladies first, anyway.” 

You could not believe what your ears had just heard and what information your brain just relayed to you. You’re pretty sure your vagina just shriveled up and died right there. 

It’s only then that you notice Mark stands with his dick hanging. Just like that. Just…like… that. 

Perhaps it is just a way of life that you will never understand men.

Angstrom relays to invincible the deal that had slipped out of your mouth the night of your fight. To no one’s surprise, he instantly agrees. And faster than you can blink, he changes into his black and yellow suit. 

The man with brains for a head goes through the portal without further delay, confident Invincible will follow anyway. 

Invincible floats in front of the portal, looking back at you with his usual, cocky grin. You must look like a fish out of water. 

“This probably won’t take longer than a few days, you know?” 

You nod, not sure what to say. 

“And it’s what we want, to expand the empire.” 

You nod again, wordlessly. 

Satisfied, he flies through the portal, and it closes up behind him without delay. Instantly, the room is free of the portal’s glimmering green glow, and it’s shrouded in the complete darkness it was in.

Seems that mutants don’t say hello, or goodbye. 

You get off the bed sluggishly and put on your underwear and your shirt. You go to your small reading nook that was only made recently. The book Angstrom had given you is still laid on top of your thin blanket. You take it, and drop it into the trash can. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

a/n: sorry to edge, next part will have p in v, yay.

Tagged: @onlybatsyy

oh my goddddd!!!!!! this is so so good i am so impressed

The meat between a mark and Rex sandwich

If you've ever summoned demon!hawks by accident, I feel bad for you.

Maybe you were feeling a tiny bit vindictive and gladly gathered the offerings required to make a deal with a lower-level demon you were planning to summon. Just a small little homeless spell...and only for a certain amount of time! That's it, you swear.

Unfortunately, things went slightly awry when you decided to make a tiny error in your summoning spell. An action you quickly came to regret when an entirely different entity spawned in your summoning circle.

…

A small hiss of smoke emerges from the pentagram, till it erupts into a full blown cloud of smoke that makes you shut your eyes and cough. You wave your arms around aimlessly to help dispel it. You silently pray to God it doesn't trigger any smoke detectors.

You squint to look around at your home, but it's like it's been engulfed in a thick fog, and your eyes begin to water. Maybe this was a bad idea...

Suddenly, just as you were thinking to leave through a window, a powerful gust of wind sends the smoke flying away. You immediately hack a cough and take in a large inhale through your mouth at the bout of fresh air.

You blink your watery eyes at what the hell just happened, and you gasp.

A demon stands proud in the middle of the pentagram. Entirely bare, his body is painted with strange, intricate black markings, the most remarkable ones being on his eyes. Sharp, golden eyes.

He flaps his large, red wings lightly to clear the remaining smoke, looking rather disinterested. 

You pale.

Whatever this thing is, it is not what you intended to summon. Hell, you were half predicting nothing would show up at all. You blink and come to your senses; then, bambi-scramble towards the counter for your book.

"Hey, where are you going?" His voice sounds male. Humanly so, and you shiver.

"Shut up." You respond mindlessly as your shaky hands open the marked page on your book. After a few rather inexpert turns, you finally do, and your eyes zero in on the picture of the demon.

Fat, garish, stubby, and old looking. Truly, one of the ugliest pictures your eyes had the misfortune of gazing upon.

You look back at your demon. He's lean, tall, and perhaps... handsome. 

No, no. Anything is handsome when compared to the demon in your book, you reason.

You run your hands across your face and resist a groan. What the hell were you even thinking? You're gonna go to work tomorrow after this. It's already late, and you have the audacity to make a mess at this hour.

Perhaps you're dreaming. Oh, yes. That is the most plausible answer. What the hell is a demon anyway? A being made to scare children into believing the moral of the story. That's all. All you need to do is pinch yourself, and you'll be awake--

"Hellooo?" The demon calls out, quite poutily. "Big, scary demon in your house. Come and sell your soul to mee." He waves as if that'll catch your attention.

You ignore him, and look over the instructions that you followed to summon the entity.

You slip from behind the counter with the book to your nose to stand in front of the summoning circle. Your eyes flit from the book to the circle, appraising your work. You circle it, paying attention to every detail. You’ve followed every step correctly, so…what gives?

"Hey!"

You finally look up from your book to him. He doesn't look amused.

He huffs, "I don't appreciate how rude you're being. I'm a high-class demon, and I’m being treated like this?"

"Are you?" You pipe up, surprised, "No, no, that can't be right..." You look back to your book. You specifically intended to summon a lower-class demon.

He guffaws, "Am I?"

Your eyes finally land on the ingredient list, orange-red salt.

You look at the summoning circle. Blood-red salt.

You facepalm. God, how could you be so stupid? You messed everything up over such a tiny mistake. Just great. Whole night ruined over what? Just because you were a vindictive little thing that wanted to get back at your trash bag ex, and it totally came and bit you in the ass. Stupid, stupid, stupid...

A loud creak is heard and your train of thought is cut off. You look up and pale at the sight of one of the wooden boards holding your house up having been snapped almost halfway. What on Earth…?

"Tick-tock." Your eyes look to his own, and there’s no hint of joking to them. They’re only sharp and intimidating. "You're on borrowed time, human. Better make a deal fast before this whole house comes crashing down on us." He doesn't look relaxed anymore, tone and demeanour rather serious.

You inhale through your nose, looking at him with wary curiosity, "What...does that mean?"

He laughs, "Don’t got a clue in the world, do ya?" He crosses his arms over his chest, "Well, I'll tell you. Since I'm so nice."

You tilt your head to the side, suddenly feeling anxious. The ceiling creaks again. "Tell me what?"

"Well, well, well, let's see here..." He puts his hand on his hip, drawing your eyes to a rather unsavory part of his body, you quickly look back at his eyes, "You opened a gateway from Hell to Earth inside your cute little house here, and it's putting quite the strain on it." You hear small splinters give way from above you, "Keep it open long enough, and well..." He looks unbothered, like it’s not his problem, "It'll all come crashing down on us."

You blink slowly, jaw slightly ajar. You swallow, and muster the words, "We're gonna die?"

"You're gonna die."

"I'm gonna die?"

"Unless you make a deal with me." He says nonchalantly.

There's a lag in your brain before the complete snap of one of your overhead beams draws your attention back to reality, "Okay, um, well...what kind of deal?"

He doesn't look impressed, "What kind of deal?"

"Well– Look, I summoned you on accident–" His eyebrows shoot up, "No, like, I meant to summon a different demon. And I think what I was going to ask fit his line of expertise more..."

He grins, "Try me."

You bring your hand up to explain, averting your eyes, "Well..." Then, you realize how ridiculous you'll sound. You click your tongue as you look into nowhere in particular, a lie not coming to you fast enough.

He yawns, "Come on, do you want to be homeless?"

Your face flushes in embarrassment at the irony of it all, "I actually..." You swallow, "I wanted to do that to someone else."

He snorts. A snort that erupts into a laugh. Right in your face. Talk about rudeness.

You cross your arms and look away, "Yes, yes. How hilarious. The irony is not lost on me."

He flicks a tear from his face as he comes down from his laughter, a small giggle coming out, "Oh...Oh Lucifer. Okay, I actually can't do that. But that's, so fucking funny."

You pinch your nose bridge, less mad at him and more so yourself. "Well, what can you do?" You say as evenly as you possibly can, which is not much.

He hums, "Affecting other humans directly is not exactly my forte."

You have a hand under your chin as you think, "Then, can you make me...super rich or something?"

"Well, ah...not quite."

"Then…” you try to think, “Can you make me crazy hot?" Perhaps a revenge look is what you should be going for, make your ex miss what they lost...

He grins slyly, "Don't worry, you don't need me in that department."

You try to ignore the flush that creeps down all the way to your neck. Rather annoyed, you burst out, "Well, tell me, then. What can you do?"

He inhales through his nose, "Hmm, I have to say, not much."

You grit your teeth at his annoyingly casual response. Instinctively, you look up. Unsurprisingly, even more of the beams have splinters and...holes in them. As if a mold has eaten its way through them.

Now, you're very, very worried.

"Please, just..." You swallow, trying your best to gather your scattered thoughts, "Anything, any deal you want, i'll do it. Just make it stop."

He smirks, like he’s won a big prize at a casino, "Anything?"

You're suddenly less sure, "Yes."

"Fine." A loud creak, "You can close the border by keeping me on Earth instead of the other way around. The deal can be making me your demon companion...in exchange for your soul."

You choke, and your head grows foggy, "What?"

"It's hard in Hell for a new guy like me." He laments, though a bit fakely... "No souls to keep me warm, and more importantly, powerful." He sighs, "I get picked on."

You look at him in horror, "And you're sure...you're sure there's nothing else I can give you?"

Another beam snaps, "Oh, absolutely. Though if it doesn't float your boat you can just wait it out till you die." He sighs sadly, "Then, you'll go to Hell anyway for summoning me and land in the hands of..." He grimaces, as if it disgusts him to even be looking at the page in your book, "That guy."

At your hesitance, he rolls his eyes, "Listen, you're going to Hell no matter what you choose. So, you might as well choose to stay on Earth longer." He smiles, "I promise I'm not so bad."

You don’t have much of a choice. With an inhale, you make your decision. 

“Fine. Deal.”

Get off the floor smh

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Markus Sebastian Grayson

ꨄ Hii, im eclipse! I usually write whatever I want, but its mostly unsavory stuff, sorry.

Fandoms im in: Mha and invincible

Writers tag: #eclipse's case files + characters i wrote for in the tags :-)

The tag: 'murder book dispatches' is usually just my thoughts/ analysis but not an actual fic

side note: make sure to heed the warnings for all my stuff! I include them in the top of my posts, always. ♡