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arieswritez · 5 months

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cupid

cupid | dirtbag!mark x lovesick f!reader

cw; DARK CONTENT!!! manipulation, cheating (srry eve 🫶🏾), coercion, dubcon/noncon, unprotected sex, breeding kink, corruption kink, virgin reader, misogyny (?), no actually no question mark he's a seedy misogynist, reader wears a skirt, victim blaming, mind break

about; mark is a red flag & a liar but he's cute so it makes up for it.

a/n; thinking about mark 'just the tip' grayson who dotes on cute little virgins and swipes their cherries 🫶🏾

mark is your best friend.

he has been for very a long time. in fact, the two of you have been friends far before he knew it.

the two of you basically grew up together: lived in the same neighborhood and went to the same schools. you knew him. but he didn't know you. and it wasn't until high school when the two of you officially became friends.

and you'll admit, it was a little awkward when william - the only friend the both of you had in common - introduced the two of you.

mark had said his name. and you'd said, "i know."

you wondered if the look mark gave you was one of amusement or concern.

nonetheless, he was everything you thought he'd be. you were glad he didn't seem weirded out by your overt clinginess or how much you seemed to latch onto his opinion. you'd do almost anything for his approval: often discarding interests he'd make off-handed comments about, convincing yourself you didn't really like it all that much, anyway. you knew you wanted to be around him all the time. . but you didn't know what to do about the butterflies you'd get whenever the two of you made eye contact.

cupid was funny.

cupid had a way of coming into your life when you least expected it. when it was least convenient. and you found yourself embarrassed by your own emotions. it's just a crush, you'd told yourself, it'll go away. because, how deep could your feelings for mark really go?

surely, it was innocent. mark was the first boy who'd flashed a smile in your direction and your heart immediately started doing summersaults. it was the raging hormones. . kid stuff.

you were sure of it.

but years passed and cupid wouldn't leave you alone.

finally, you'd worked up the courage to tell him how you felt. made up an excuse about needing help with a couple of classes and mark - always so sweet - told you he'd be glad to help. you'd stuttered through your confession. but mark never made a face. in fact, he'd let you down so nicely it was hard to be upset. he'd given you a warm smile, told you you were sweet. . but he wasn't looking for a romantic relationship.

cupid was cruel, you decided.

you tried convincing yourself: that's fine. that's okay.

mark viewed you as nothing more than a friend and you understood that. you weren't angry. just. . stung. and when he'd started dating amber, then eve, you thought to yourself: so much for not being ready for a romantic relationship.

it wasn't long until you realized that actually meant, i'm not ready for a romantic relationship with you.

you couldn't blame him. not really. amber and eve were gorgeous, there was no denying it. and eve had something you didn't. eve related to mark in a way neither amber or you could. and you understood that. but that didn't mean you particularly liked it.

you'd sit with william at the lunch table and try not to tune out his talking, but you'd end up doing it, anyway. you'd zone out and look across the table as mark and his girlfriend laughed to whatever joke he'd most likely said. mark would walk his fingers across the table and gently hold his partner's hand, caressing the top of it with his thumb and they'd smile and giggle. and you'd think to yourself, how i'd like to have a love like that.

not just with anyone, but with mark.

you felt mark was the only one who'd give you that type of love. that type of feeling in your chest. the thump, thump, thump necessary to have your lips splitting into a grin and your world smelling like saccharine and hibiscus. you wanted a love like his.

you wanted him.

and you ignored william aiming fries at your head and trying to call you back down to earth - "hello, anyone home?" - as you dreamily stared across the table.

you'd play the game. you'd wait. for as long as the relationship would last and hopefully, mark would turn his sights on you, next.

the two of you remained friends, of course you did. mark was nice. he was genuine and sweet and he'd never push you away because of some innocent crush. he'd always make sure not to leave you out of his plans. but he was weary, because many of those plans, involved having eve around, too. and he'd pulled you aside once and told you,

"i don't want it to be weird. you're still my friend, y'know?"

and you'd joked, "it won't be! i'm over you, anyway~"

and the two of you laughed and that was that. you excused yourself to the bathroom and splashed water in your face to fight back tears. that was that.

you knew boundaries would have to be set so you wouldn't step on her toes. eve was good for mark, you'd never do anything to hurt her. and you didn't want her to think you disliked her by not going to an event just because she was going to be there.

so, despite everything in you screaming at you not to - you agree to go to that party. even when you knew eve would be there, too.

mark wouldn't have had it any other way.

you had fun. and you convinced yourself it was fine to dance with william while mark and eve cuddled close. it was fine.

you convinced yourself you were drinking to let loose, not to forget about that ugly feeling brewing in your chest. one drink turned into two.

two and then. . you'd lost count.

liquor goes down easy when it's sweet and you've always liked the things you're not supposed to have.

so, it was only a matter of time when they dragged you into the middle of a game of truth or dare. william - bless his heart - had tried to sober you up before you made a mistake. but liquor made you brave. it made you fun. and in your drunken stupor: you'd admitted you were a touchless, kiss-less virgin.

you wish you'd been sober enough to see mark's face.

in hindsight, you should've been.

a few months later and mark couldn't keep his hands off of you.

"no, she won't find out. she won't care.

no, we do this all the time.

it's an arrangement we have, me and her, we. . it's complicated. she's done this before. it happens. it's not that big a deal~"

it was college, he'd said, things change. it's good, healthy even, for a couple to experiment with others. that's what college is all about: exploring. figuring out what you like and what you don't. says eve is doing the same.

but for someone who claims to have an open relationship, mark does his best to keep the two of you a secret. he won't let you near eve for the life of you. and you watch his face screw up with indignation whenever you mention her. you ask what's wrong, and he changes the subject, says he just wants to focus on you. but you're not dumb. you know what he's playing at. and you know you should be mad. you should be furious he's playing you like this but you're not and that's the problem.

you don't care what attention he's giving you as long as it's attention.

so you let him.

you let him when your parents aren't home and when eve is preoccupied with something else. you let him into your room even though he's not supposed to be there. you let him smother you in kisses and slip his hands beneath your shirt, his warm hands smoothing up your waist, blunt nails dragging across your ribs. and before you know it, you're raising your arms to help him take your shirt off.

you let him hook his hands around your thighs and pull you towards him, slotting himself closer between your thighs as his hands slide beneath your skirt, sliding off your panties without taking the skirt off, just bunching it up and flipping it over on your belly to expose your embarrassingly wet cunt.

the way he can work you up from just making out is almost pathetic. he's barely touched you and you're already leaking for him. the two of you are inexperienced. . more so you than mark.

he's shown you how to kiss, how to touch him, hell, even how to touch yourself. but he hasn't shown you how to cum ;( you don't get to do that without his permission.

he says that, despite this, he's still never had sex. the furthest he's gone has been outercourse stuff. says eve isn't ready. says he understands, but he likes you. he really does. and if it were ever to amount to more. . he wishes it was you.

mark 'just the tip' grayson who holds open your thighs in a bruising grip when you try to close them. asks you to keep them open, pretty please, and proceeds to tongue at your clit like he's trying to make you sing. (he is).

coaxes slick out of your cunt while he nurses on your puffy little clit and stuffs his fingers inside you while his hips rut against the bed. the way he's tasting you has you on edge and the two of you promised there'd be no funny business until the two of you are actually ready. . but your fingers are tangled in his hair and his cock is slicking up your sheets because he's shoved his pants down beneath his ass ;( its like the two of you are in heat and when you pull mark up to kiss him you taste yourself on his tongue and the way you're moaning into each others mouths somehow makes the room's temperature sky-rocket.

mark 'just the tip' grayson who says the magic words with glossy eyes and a blush high on his face. he looks so needy and debauched, all messy hair and swollen lips. begs you, "baby please" just the tip. he promises. no more, he just wants to feel you.

and then he'll pull out and make you cum so hard you'll see stars.

mark 'just the tip' grayson who fucks his cock between your pussy lips, his eyes locked between your legs as he watches his cock slide against your swollen cunt. he's drunk on you, the way you smell, the way you look, the little sounds you make and how your hips flinch whenever the head of his cock pushes against your clit. who hisses, "i'm gonna breed that little cunt." and ignores the look you give him.

it's just dirty talk, a little voice in your head says.

but another tells you you can't bring yourself to care what it is as long as he keeps his hands on you.

you watch with nervous excitement as he takes his cock in hand and redirects it towards your opening. looks you in the eyes and slowly pushes against resistance until the head of his cock pops in.

the two of you tense and you squeak so loud mark doesn't know how he doesn't immediately cum. you squeeze immediately and you feel and look so damn good. your skin is hot to the touch and you're partly dressed, a pretty little 'o' to your lips as your toes curl with the fullness you feel. the head of his cock is so fat it's borderline uncomfortable but he's hot inside you and the pressure feels different and good, nothing like his fingers and you're so, so dizzy. your head swimming with thoughts of only him. the way his hair was mussed by your hands, his bite swollen lips, and the way his eyes fluttered shut when he first slid into you are memories you're sure you'll never forget.

but it doesn't stop your heart from racing when he inches just a bit deeper. you've only had fingers inside you before and he's too much. . too soon.

you tell him you cant take it but he knows you can.

mark 'just the tip' grayson who folds you in half and feeds his cock into your cunt despite your protests. despite you trying to push his hips away with shaking hands, crying out as you find you have no leverage. your legs uselessly kicking out against his shoulders.

mark 'just the tip' grayson who mounts you and stays on top of you, his knees against the back of your thighs and his ball sack snug against your perineum while his cock throbs deep down inside your pussy. who has to blink stars out of his eyes because, jesus, he's inside of you. and you're tighter than anyone he's ever had.

he's taken amber's cherry.

and he's taken eve's.

but yours might be his favorite <3

mark 'just the tip' grayson who stuffs your panties in your mouth when your parents come back home and he doesn't want to stop fucking you. if you weren't ready, if you didn't want it, then why is your slick stretching, sticky and viscous, threading and snapping with each of his thrusts, making lewd wet sounds that resonate in the room whenever his balls smack against your ass and his pubic bone grinds against your swollen little clit?

if you weren't ready why is your cream collecting at the base of his cock, frothing around him and hypnotizing him. if you weren't ready, why are your hands holding a pillow over your face to cover your whimpers as he drills into you in a mating press, why aren't you pushing him away? why are your hips bucking against his, chasing him, why is your pussy clenching around him and why are your moans getting louder?

why do you squeak out in ecstasy when he sloppily grinds into you and cums at the very back of your pussy? why do you tense and cry when he rubs your needy clit and pinches the gummy flesh between thumb and forefinger, when he spreads your lips open and spits on your clit, smudging the saliva there even if it isn't necessary? If you weren't ready, why do your legs lock around his waist for round two?

he said he's never done this before but as he wrings a second orgasm out of you. . forcing your back into an arch as you cry into the pillow, you're not so sure that's true.

#hes so silly <3 #my thoughts about mark are concerning to feminism #cherry!chaser mark for the win #mark grayson #mark grayson x reader #invincible #invincible x reader #yandere mark grayson x reader #yandere mark grayson

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bunnyreaper · 7 months

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welcome to the 141

kinktober 3 - bukkake, hate sex

price + ghost x reader

(18+/mdni, noncon, misogyny, no but seriously... misogyny, degradation)

Real men belong in the 141, real women belong on their knees.

That's what your arsehole friend had joked when you told him about your intention to transfer, but you were determined to prove him and everyone else wrong. You'd gotten this far, and you could make it just that little bit further.

You sit in the gym, anxiously waiting for Captain Price and Lieutenant Riley to arrive and begin a physical assessment with you—their reputations precede them, and you want nothing more than to impress them, so they have no choice but to accept you into the task force.

The squeak of the door pulls you out of your thoughts, redirecting your attention to the two behemoth men who have just walked through the door—all bulging muscles barely contained in tight-fitting compression shirts. The way you rise to your feet is sheer instinct, as you rush into a greeting that is swiftly cut off.

Captain Price walks with a swagger, and stops at the side of the mat in the middle—he beckons you forward wordlessly, as Ghost steps forward to meet you in the middle of the mat.

"So you're the girl that wants to try out for the 141?" The captain asks, and you internally bristle at his use of such a diminutive word, but you decide to push down your protests as you decide to ignore it.

You nod eagerly. "That's me, captain."

He smirks, his face twisting with sick amusement as he crosses his arms over his chest and his eyes crawl over your body. "It's not going to be easy, last chance to back out."

The taunt only makes you more determined. "Thanks, but no thanks."

He and the Lieutenant share a look, one you can't really perceive the meaning of, but you know whatever comes next is going to be the biggest challenge of your career.

"We'll start with a sparring session, you can show the Lieutenant what you're made of."

You nod obediently, turning to Ghost as the two of you start to square up and prepare to spar. He doesn't say a word, and neither do you, as you quietly appraise him and figure out how to use his massive stature against him.

The tension is thick, each second crawling by as you breathe in and hyperfocus before making your first move.

You barely get a grip on him before he's slamming you into the mat, limbs pinning you down with ease as you fight to suck down your breaths. "Fuck."

"Impressive." He mutters, tone completely dry.

The whole situation makes your temper flare, as you can feel them already underestimating you, can practically taste their misogynistic attitudes in the air. You struggle against Ghost's hold, still unable to grapple free. "Let me go again, I wasn't ready." You rush out an excuse, yet you're determined to not let him get the better of you a second time.

The Captain's voice cuts in, heavy with judgement and condescension. "You think out in the field they'll be waiting for you to be ready, soldier?" He scoffs and shakes his head. "Dumber than I thought, clearly."

Each word stokes the fire inside you, makes you more and more desperate to prove yourself. Your chest heaves as your anger and determination escalate. "Just let me try again, please."

Ghost looks to his Captain, who nods in approval before Ghost moves away and allows you to climb to your feet once more.

Again, you both prepare, staring each other down. This time, you know a little of his tactics, of his plan to rush you and overwhelm you with his bulk, and your mind switches to executing more evasive maneuvers.

You wait patiently for Ghost to make the first move, which you dodge with ease, you just make it out of his reach when he's rushing for you again, anticipating your dodge and sending you flying into the mat once more.

You're not sure what burns more between the pain in your back and the humiliation you feel, but Ghost is on top of you, pinning you again. His hands are on your wrists as his hips are pushed into your core, and you can feel that the bastard is fucking hard. No amount of thrashing throws him off of you.

"Same result. Stop struggling." He growls, voice deep and menacing and impatient, as he grinds down and keeps you firmly in place.

"See this is the thing about little girls like you." Each word is snarled, sheer aggression unfolding from behind the mask. "You think you can make it a man's world, in the army, but you can't."

"I can, women can." You whimper, voice frayed with pain as the lieutenant's grip tightens.

You hear the dull thud of the Captain's footsteps as he moves into your line of sight and stares down at you.

"Go on then, break free." He commands, watching as you squirm fruitlessly, and a predatory smile crosses his face. "Pathetic, darling."

Price gives Ghost another look, as he frees you once more, and you stumble to your feet red-faced and mortified.

"Captain—" You're about to challenge him, about to call him out on all of this sexist bullshit when his hands come to your shoulders, forcing you to your knees once more.

"You can tell me all your precious feminist thoughts while you're down on your knees." He scoffs, working on unbuckling his belt right before your shocked face.

Ghost does the same, belt clinking as the two men work to free their erections—you try to stand, but their hands keep you pinned before them, kneeling and waiting.

"I'm not gonna do whatever you think you're asking!" You squeal as their thick cocks bounce free and taunt you with their appearance.

"I'm not asking, I'm telling you to put that mouth to use instead of opening it for your pointless protests." The Captain begins, his hand working over his length slowly." "You want in the 141? Know your place, on your knees and serving your superior officers, as a woman should."

Ghost does the same, gloved hand working his length dangerously close to your face. "That look in your eyes tells me everything we need to know. Strong, independent woman until you see a nice hard cock."

"That's not true, I—" You open your mouth to protest, but find it stuffed full of the Captain's dick—his salty precum coating your tongue as he works his way inside.

You suck on instinct, and of a creeping sense of fear of what will happen if you don't. They've gone this far, maybe it's just hazing, maybe this is how you—

The Captain takes hold of your ponytail, pulling you up and down his length leisurely. "Much better, good girl."

The words make you flush against your will, your body betraying your usually headstrong self.

He thrusts his cock as deep as you can take it without gagging, stilling there for a moment. "I'll break you in properly before long. Keep you under my desk, yeah, love?"

The noise of rejection you make with your mouth full sounds awfully like approval to the men's ears.

Ghost reaches down to grab your hand, wrapping your smaller fingers around his cock as you continue to suck the captain, while he taunts you. "This is your natural state, brain off, mouth full of dick. You don't have to pretend to be strong with us, it's better for all of us this way."

Price groans, deep and chesty in a way that makes your body sing against your will. "Always in need of some stress relief after a mission, you'd be perfect." He sighs, continuing to guide you up and down him.

He pulls you off of him, guiding your head towards Ghost's length so you can swallow him instead. Ghost's hands hold either side of your head, working his cock inside before he thrusts with reckless abandon. "Fuck. If you weren't made to suck then why are you so fucking good at it, huh?" He all but growls, continuing to use your face as nothing more than a little fuckhole.

He's rougher than Price, moves you faster up and down his cock, and forces himself deeper into your throat, your gagging sounds filling the room. "That's what I like to hear."

"What do you think, Ghost?" The captain asks.

"Need to make sure she knows her place." Ghost snarls, pulling you off of him harshly before forcing your head down to the floor, down to his boot. "Kiss it, then you can hump it like the desperate little slut you are."

"I'm not—" You whine, but he's tilting up his but to meet your mouth, so you can start to worship the leather.

Tears prickle at your eyes as you lick and kiss his boot, desperately hoping the act will please him.

"You're a cunt, you're just a set of needy holes." He pulls you back up by the chin, repositioning you so your clit is pressed against his foot, and you start grinding down on instinct.

"You deny it love, but look at the way you move those hips, it just comes naturally to you." Price laughs, his eyes blown with arousal.

You hate it—hate what they're doing and what they've reduced you to, but at the same time you're so fucking needy, and Ghost is at least giving you some semblance of relief.

"Grinding on my boot like a pathetic little doll. Don't make a mess, or you'll be cleaning it with your mouth."

You want to cry out and rebuke them, but as your mouth opens, nothing comes out.

"Shhh." Price coos, bringing up your hands to each of the man's dicks. "Just focus on us, darling."

Your doe eyes stare at them desperately, as you do the only thing you can, jerk their cocks with fervor and chase the shocks of pleasure you get from rubbing against Ghost. You're so lost, so reduced, and yet unable to stop.

The volume of both men's groans increases, as they urge you into stroking faster and faster—it isn't long before they're both crashing toward the edge.

"Paint her face, Simon." Price commands his Lieutenant, who takes hold of his cock and rubs until he's spilling fresh, sticky cum all over your face—in your lashes, on your lips and cheeks, even a little in your hair.

The sight is enough to send Price over the edge too, his ropes joining Ghost's as they both cover your face entirely in rope after rope of cum.

"New fucking uniform for you." Ghost chuckles, slightly breathless, as he milks his cock for any remaining drops to stain your face with.

"Look at that." The look in Price's eyes is almost sweet, as he tilts up your chin to inspect your painted face. "Good job. Welcome to the 141, princess."

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