#sub mark grayson

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

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

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

Mark is a crybaby ass sub.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In conclusion, Sub!Mark is the only answer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

it makes you feel high.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

what the fuck just happened?

Thinking about how sometimes during a fight or a long training session, all that adrenaline and pumping blood results in Mark getting hard. He wears a cup for decency so it's moderately uncomfortable when it happens. Not to mention, Mark gets embarrassed. Very embarrassed.

Mostly because you seem to know when it happens. Mark doesn't know if it's the way he walks or if something in his voice gives it away. But if he doesn't want to get teased into coming, he'd best wait until his erection flags.

(Mark has never waited. He always comes home.)

It's not his fault! He stays hard for a long time if he tries to ignore it. He doesn't have the patience to wait. And Mark loves how your eyes get sharp and feral when they land on him, his cup removed, sweaty and chubbed up in his suit. You like to corner him against the wall and part your legs and rub against him. Like to feel his dick poke at your folds. He's there for you to play with. You make sure to remind him.

And the thing is, Mark gets stupid when he's hard. Big and easy and leaky.

"Still can't figure out how you focus on anything with such a fat cock," you tell him. Mark is lightheaded. He's obscenely big in his suit, and you're wet at the sight of him bucking his hips against you, humping you like a dog. You get a tight grip on his hair, tell him to settle down and be good.

"Don't get too excited. You'll cream your pants," you say lazily, and Mark whines. You get a little mean when he's like this. He loves it. You tell him to bring you both to the bed and he obeys instantly. You rest a hand on his stomach, just above where he's made a wet patch in his suit.

"Please, pl-please, G-God," Mark's saying, abs tense under your palm. You finally free his cock, pulling his suit pants down enough, and you take in the sight of it. It's red, agitated, steadily leaking. This is one of your favorite parts. Mark doesn't need much to come. He's got a big dick and big balls but none of that matters when he blows his load in less than a minute. You tease his cock at the base with two fingers, rubbing and tracing the veins that go up to his head. It takes nothing before Mark is tensing, legs trapping you as he comes. He makes high, weepy sounds as he does, his eyes squeezed shut. You pull his hair and that heightens Mark's orgasm, making him buck into the air.

And then, the next best part.

"Oh my God," you say with a laugh. "Dumb, fat cock can't even get soft after coming? All those muscles and strength and you're still fucking needy. You can't even think when you're like this, can you?"

A Viltrumite effect. Mark needs at least two orgasms to soften. He can't even reply now, he's so desperate. Once, you'd made him stay hard on purpose, not allowing his second release for ages. When you had let him come, Mark had cried, red-faced and dizzy with arousal.

You don't do that now, pitying his desperation. You press Mark down into the mattress instead and he lets you, never resistant with you. You rake your hand through his hair. Mark cranes his neck, wanting a kiss. You indulge him and he moans into your mouth, rutting against your stomach.

"Ah-ah," you say, slipping your hand between your bodies and trapping Mark's cock against his stomach. He whines, forgetting himself and bucking his hips, his strength coming easily. You squeeze him in warning.

"Be good," you say. "Be good or I'll leave you like this, stupid and leaking."

Mark shakes his head, eyes wet. "No, no, please, need it, need you. Please, please, 'm s-so hard."

"Oh, I know." You take your other hand and squeeze Mark's pecs, first the right then the left. He moans, arching beneath you. You flick his nipples until they're hard under his suit. "Is this all you're good for? Fighting and emptying your balls? Your stupid dick can't even tell the difference between the adrenaline of a fight and me touching you."

Mark whines, squirming beneath you. "That's not t-true, I'm—I—"

"You what?" you ask, mocking. You take his cock in a tight grip, tighter than you'd hold a regular person. But Mark can take it. Mark wants to take it. "What are you gonna say, baby? You gonna tell me you're smart? That you're more than your fat tits and cock?"

Mark doesn't manage an answer. You grind on him hard, your pussy still clothed. His eyes are fluttering so you hold his chin and shake him a little.

"Eyes on me, big guy," you say. "You want me to fuck you? Wanna cum inside me?"

Mark nods eagerly, hair wild, cheeks blotchy. "Yeah, yeah, please—"

"Take off my underwear," you say.

Mark immediately grabs the band of your underwear and pulls. The fabric rips like wet paper. You look down, mouth open.

"Oh, baby," you say. Mark's already fumbling over an apology, promising to buy you new ones. You roll your eyes and pull his hair. "Why did I think that would go any differently? You'd tear through anything to get your dick wet."

"'M sorry, I thought—"

"Well, that was your first mistake, wasn't it, sweetie? Don't think, you're not good at it right now."

You take Mark's wrists and put them above his head. It takes both of your hands to do so. You know the only reason you can hold him like this is because he's letting you.

"Gonna be a good boy and fuck me?" you ask, arching your back so you can drag your pussy over Mark's cock. "Gonna make me cum? Or are you just gonna rut into me like a dumb dog?"

Mark shakes his head. "No, gonna be good. I can make you cum. Make you feel good. Lemme do it—lemme feel you, I can do it, please—"

And finally, finally, you let him inside. Mark loses all coherence, only panting and whining as he meets you thrust for thrust. You barely need to move, he's so eager. He's gorgeous like this, suit disheveled and pulled up only as far as it needs to be for you to play with his cock. His hair is messy and he's shiny with sweat. You can't imagine how overwhelming his arousal is, coursing through him and turning his brain to soup even when he's not with you. It's no wonder he'll let you do whatever you want to him.

"Are you being good, honey pie?" you ask. "Are you gonna hold it till I tell you?"

"Can't," Mark says, like he always does, but you know better.

"You can," you say. "You can or I'm pulling off of you. Can you rub my clit or are you too dumb to do that?"

"I can, I can," he says. You free one of his hands and he clumsily finds your clit. Mark rubs you as you fuck him, his cock making a mess in your pussy.

You feel your orgasm swell. "Wait till I cum," you order. "You couldn't even hold your first one, so wait."

Mark's eyes are wet. "Are you close? Can I cum now? Please, can't hold it—"

"Yes, you can," you say, digging your nails into his scalp. Mark whines loudly, his thrusts sloppy and fast. "Fucking hold it, Mark."

And he does. He manages to hold off until you cum, your orgasm washing over you. Then you say the magic words. "Go ahead."

And Mark forgets himself and breaks out of your grip, grabbing your back and waist instead. He buries his face in your shoulder, grunting and whimpering as he fucks you, one leg over your hip for leverage. You can't do anything but hold on as Mark chases his release. He cums for a long time, shaking against you. When he's done, he rolls you over so you're lying on your side.

"That was s-so good," he says, voice cracking from pleasure. "You're so mean to me, I love it. Was I good? Was I your good boy?"

"Pretty boy," you say, kissing his temple. "You were the best. So good for me, sweetheart."

You don't spare so much as a glance to the love of your life as he whines and thrashes in place. His pale hips lift off the chair he's bound to by red rope in both an offering and a half-assed attempt to chase friction in the air. His cock, standing tall and neglected, fights back against the rod you had inserted into it earlier. Mark feels full, but not in the way he wants to be.

In his should be place, Rex is literally face down, ass up, as you pound into the red head. His friend's hair is loose, but tightly restrained by the fist you have at the back of his scalp, using it as an anchor to keep his muscular body close. Rex's skin is hot and sweaty, moaning and groaning uncharacteristically free. Mark knew Rex always had the hots for you, but he didn't think he'd ever be so unbashful about it. Then again, who could keep it together when presented with a cock like yours?

"So fucking good, so-! Fucking good!" Rex wasn't even bothering to taunt Mark anymore. Totally lost in the pleasure that was your domineering grip and positioning hips against the fat of his ass. "Hah, oh, babe, you're way too good at this!"

You tsk, scowling some at the nickname. He was just a hole, and you were so not interested. The obvious disgust on your face is the only thing keeping Mark sane through the harsh storm of jealousy raining through his heart. Even with the intensity that you're pounding Rex with, your disposition remains cold and withdrawn. Every 'hot shot, come on' ignored, every attempt to paw and reach your hands swatted. Sure, you were fucking Rex, but it was all to fuck with Mark. The condom only solidified that even more, something you rarely put on with your boyfriend.

"I won't ever, baby, I won't ever do it again. I-I I didn't mean it." Mark hiccuped, his neck rolling back and forth, front and forward, both helpless and restless with nothing to do but watch and plead for your attention. Your mercy. "Hah, I didn't mean to make you jealous! I wasn't teasing, wasn't being bad, please, please please, I promise." His prayers fall deaf upon your ears, but Rex scoffs at them. Muttering something about ruining the mood. The slurred tone of his words just serves to agitate Mark further. It wasn't fair that that asshole was the one feeling it! He didn't appreciate you. Didn't love you. Not like Mark does.

It's hard not to cave. Not to throw Rex out of your bed, your apartment, and smother your boyfriend. The second he started crying was the moment you had forgiven him, but you couldn't show him that. It was a mixed bag, honestly. The body below you, while physically hot due to his powers, wasn't as warm as Mark's. It felt wrong, from the way that Rex moaned to the shape of his hole. It sufficed, but again, it wasn't Mark.

To seal the performance, you thrusted until you finished. One load for the several Rex had been marinating in for the past hour or so. Mark lets out a howl of a cry; it should be him! It should be him! With a sigh, you pull out, carefully tying the condom and tossing it. You take a moment to breathe, to think, before stepping off the bed. Ignoring how Rex whimpers as you ignore him. Mark lights up as if it were Christmas day. Finally! Finally, you were paying attention to him! "Baby, honey, please?" He mewls, trying to offer himself up to you.

Did it feel good to be ignored even when he was apologizing?

"N-no,"

Internalize it.

"I will, I am, I promise, baby."

Is he going to continue talking to people you've asked him not to? Hurting your feelings even though you love him so much? Is he going to make you do this again?

"No." Mark swallows, sitting back down. "No, I won't. I'll listen to you."

Good.

Mark squeals when you tug that silver rod out of his urethra, snapping the ropes you had so carefully bound him in. Ah...

Distantly, you can hear Rex snicker behind you.

ׂ╰┈➤

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

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

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

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

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

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

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ ♡

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

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

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

“Goddamnit, fucking tease…”

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

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

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ ♡

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

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

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

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

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

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ ♡

fin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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