#headcap invincible x reader

[stareiiez]

You're Mine, Now and Forever

notes: first actually long fic for this fandom, and its giving a slow start. don't worry! it gets better from here. also idk how I feel about this style of writing, it feels off. idk.

warnings: MINORS DNI.

words :3.3k

chapter two

You don't know how it happened, or how much time passed when the first scream ripped through the air and the first bloody body collided with your frantic driving on the express lane outta town. After all, it was just supposed to be like any other day, with you spending your time at work during a slow hour; organizing and reorganizing dresses for what felt like the nth time that hour just so you looked productive. Pop music filtered slowly through the store's speakers and you hummed to the few lines you knew of Chappel Roan's new hit song. The two customers milling around the clearance section chatted to another one of your coworkers across the store, and your manager was at the cash register, scrolling through logs of ordered clothing items to make sure they were in stock in the store's catalogs.

It was a boring day. A lunch break was the motivation for you to continue mindlessly nitpicking at full clothing racks when the first explosion shook the very building. The music stuttered glitching just to accompany the flickering overhead flourescent lights. Then another explosion follows soon after, a deep heavy boom that sinks into the soles of your shoes and rockets up your spinal cord to shake your back molars. Your mouth wants to open, to ask the obvious ' What the fuck was that?" out loud like every stereotypical blonde that questions the bloody scream they heard in the middle of the night in every 90's horror movie. But the chorus of screams and chaos answers your inner thoughts instead. Screams of fleeing citizens running away from whatever danger caused the very ground to shake, and smoke to plume into clouds upwards.

"Stay back, " your manager barks to you and three other women who cower together in a small huddle. She walks towards the still rattling glass doors of the store. A shared fear decorates your faces as you all watch with bated breath; the two sets of wide doors swing open, and your manager steps out into the chaotic mass of running bodies that swarm past her.

Horror paints her face when she sees the source of the destruction. Her head is tilted backward and jaw slack, her amber eyes the size of marbles, she's rooted to the spot. You're surprised she's not knocked off her small feet with every push and shove she endures. "Oh my god." Your ears strain, eyes focused on the way her mouth moves over each syllable with a slow, shocked pace. You're not blessed with reading lips, but you'd like to think that adrenaline fuels your brain enough to make out the word 'Invincible' before the ground shakes again.

This time, the destruction targets your building particularly. One second you're standing and the next, you're knocked on your ass washed away in a wave of shattered glass and minuscule pieces of asphalt and rubble that spray into your vicinity. The outside world, once muffled by plexiglass, screams with sirens, and people running for their lives berate your ringing eardrums. Your front doors are destroyed and buried under brick-and-mortar rubble. Severed limbs stick out this way and at odd angles from the tight crevices of drywall and insulation. The dust makes your eyes water, and you choke on a scream that squeezes your throat something fierce. You like to think you're not consumed by the panic and the trauma of watching your manager and several others get crushed to death in a matter of seconds because Mark has gone off the deep end.

"Come on!" Your coworker's words bark at you. Suddenly she's at your side, in your shocked haze, she managed to be the functioning one out of the rest of your group. Her hands grab onto your forearm and yank all your dead weight to your feet. "We need to leave! I don't want to die here!" Her free hand holds onto the sobbing customer, the other woman accompanying her is missing. Surely buried under the rubble that caved in one corner of the dress store, maybe she was one of the hands that was reaching out from the concrete bloody mess. The thought makes you want to stop and vomit, your stomach curdles with how much stress and adrenaline swarms through your body in nauseating waves.

You follow her, not like you had a choice, she's pulling your trio towards the back of the store and the emergency exit. Her breaths are ragged and half-sputtering between prayers to some god she believes in that your only exit isn't blocked off either. "Stay here, I need to get the keys in the office." Your coworker says, dropping both of your hands. Her face is an ashy pale gray when she turns to give both you and the other woman a once over, checking to see if you're all in one piece and able-bodied enough to book it once she gets the door open. You must look just like her, the expression of unrestrained fear and cement particles dusting your face. Small streaks of blood trickle down your temples and nose bridge, thanks to the shards of plexiglass that rained over you in the third explosion.

You nod, swallowing down acidic bile that bubbles at the back of your throat. Your eyes linger on her small back when she makes a mad dash to the small back office down the hall. When she disappears from your line of sight, your phone vibrates in your pocket. It makes you jump right out of your ashen grey skin. The woman beside you startles as well, her hand clutching at her heart. "Sorry," you manage to whisper, while your hands scramble to the right back pocket of your jeans to dig out your phone. The now cracked touch screen illuminates too brightly, shining a picture of you and Mark Grayson posed in a goofy pose. Your fingers poised in a 'peace' sign, while the male was peeking out from behind your shoulder with his two pointer fingers raised above either side of your head. Your twin smiles look so carefree in the saved contact picture you have of him.

Your thumb taps on the green answer button, and you raise the phone to your ear. Mark's out-of-breath panting sends chills down your spine in some sickly worrisome way. Your name barks through the speaker of the phone, the continuous screams make it almost hard to hear him. "Mark? Mark, what's going on? " You don't even question why the hell he's calling in the first place, isn't he the supposed one murdering and tearing down the city? Isn't that why the people screaming his superhero name saw him wreak havoc?

"No time! Please tell me you're safe. ." a pause, his ragged inhale makes your heart squeeze in time with your clammy palm gripping the phone tighter to your ear. "Please."

"I'm fine." You copy his pause, brows wrinkle in thought. You know you're lying, you're not fine. You're dazed and confused, shaking in your sleek shoes. Your legs are unsteady and becoming more and more unstable, the comedown from adrenaline is going to be a fickle bitch that'll do you in if whatever happening outside doesn't kill you first. "I'm still at work, I'm waiting for the door to get unlocked as fast as it can be."

Even through the grey background noise on the other side of the line, Mark's sigh crackles through the call. You could picture his shoulders just dropping the tiniest inch in relief, that a loved one of his hadn't been hurt or god forbid, even slaughtered mercilessly in the devastation that had been going on. "You need to get out of here." His voice urges, tensely.

"Mark-"

"I'm serious!" His tone jumps, he's barking. Halfway yelling, and you flinch. The woman at your side reacts by recoiling, both of your nerves bouncing off one another like electrons bouncing off the walls of an atom. "You need to get the fuck out of here, find a car-- any car. Don't even think about hiding, you need to drive as far as you can outta here. You hear me?"

You swallow dryly, fingers squeezing tighter. Blood rushes in your ears, you know you can't argue. There's no way to get information outta him now, not when his words are clipped, whatever is happening outside is far more important and drastic than arguing with his girlfriend who's too stubborn to flee for her life without asking stupid questions. You're smarter than that, and he knows it. He's lost far too many things, and gone through too many traumatizing situations than to waste time and not save the people he loves. Your eyes close briefly, counting to three in your whirling hellscape of a mind. You nod like he can even see you. You can sense it's different now. This isn't some closed-off fight between Nolan and his son that trying to stand up to him and not ' ready the Earth' for the viltrumites to come. This is far more scarier, it's drastic and life-shattering. "What about you? People are screaming Invincible is causing this."

"Don't worry about me." Mark says, his tone more gentle than before, "Just run, I can handle them and if anything happens to me? Just know I love you, okay?"

Your breath hitches. You hate how that sounds; you hate the confession on his lips. It sounds more like a goodbye than him admitting his affection for you like he does every day so casually. It feels heavier on your heart, it rattles your bones, and the tidal wave of curdling bile in your stomach roars into a tsunami. You need to vomit. You need to yell at Mark and tell him to not talk like that. You want to tell him that whatever is happening outside can be handled by the two of you together, even if you don't have any powers. Yet, before you can even voice any of those options over the phone, the call ends with a sharp click. You don't know tears are dotting your waterline till you blink so rapidly that a few salty drops cut trails down your ashy cheeks. Gray water stains the front of your shirt, and your phone lowers from your ear. Your grip is loose on the device.

"Got them!" Your coworker calls out, jogging back to you and the other woman; the jangling keys clenched tight in her fist. You don't know if it adds to the hurt your heart is already holding onto when she doesn't acknowledge the distraught on your face. She's more focused on jamming one of the silver keys in the keyhole and twisting it to the right, the satisfying click and rough opening of the door rings in your muffled ears.

The woman shoves past the two of you without hesitation, making a break for it as fast as her forty-five-year-old bones can carry her. She won't make it far, she barely would last surviving running around the bend of the building before the crowd of citizens tramples her half to death in their need to live another minute longer. Any man for themself is a fickle bitch. Your head turns to your coworker as you follow suit, breaking into a jog. She's already following behind, her pace a lot faster. "Stay safe." You call to her when she breezes past. Her silhouette disappears when she blends into the waves of people, fighting against the current so she can get to some sort of safety before she gets crushed to death herself. Her kindness, her stupid jokes, and her natural leadership are all you're going to have to remember her by; if you live long enough to even see her again.

You run a different path, following the makeshift alleyway that's half crumpled down and now smaller in size, your shoes threaten to trip on jutting-out stone and rebar when you traverse too fast. Your heart thuds faster in your chest, brain running a million miles an hour on how to keep yourself from running further and further away from the manic crowds. Alley water splashes at your ankles, sinks into your shoes, and makes your socks stick to your soles. You cringe inwardly, pumping your legs harder till you too start to run. The small alley breaks out into wide open space, and sunlight and smokey skies greet your frazzled complexion. Crashed cars and abandoned vehicles greet you immediately, some are still smoking and burning. Hot oil and melted rubber don't do anything to quell the queasiness you've been fighting this entire day, but there's no stopping now.

Now, you have to leave. No matter who Invincible knock-off is causing this; they'll be busy fighting off Mark and his team. You run along the cracked sidewalk, eyes sweeping over the conditions of the vehicles.

The lessening of people crying for help is eery, the whole city should be shouting from the tops of their lungs. It's like everyone got wiped out in a matter of seconds, or on a lighter note, they're all hiding and being as quiet as possible so they don't die next. You expected to see clogged highways and people running along the highways seeking freedom, instead, there are only deserted streets and cars tipped over on their sides that you brush past in your search for a ride.

Finally, you spot a buggy. A cute little Volkswagon with dents decorating its doors, and still running. Its engine is the loudest thing in the pin-drop silence, even compared to your sneakers pounding on the pavement. You know it's stupid to take the bait, that some conveniently placed car is here while you were in the middle of your search. You like to think you're better than the dumb female lead of a horror movie, that falls for every trick and ploy the killer lays out for her; but you're desperate. You need to fulfill Mark's wish, that you get the fuck out here and run as far as you can. The leather seat squeaks under your weight when you throw yourself inside the car and shut the door behind you. The car's radio crackles with dead static over its speakers, it sends chills up your spine and only adds to the apocalyptic atmosphere your once-busy city has been subjected to.

You're a walking target. The last survivor of your bug colony that trying to outrun the burning magnifying glass held above your head by some sadistic fucking toddler. The realistic side of things is, that you won't live to see the outskirts of the city before the Invincible knockoff crushes you and your car into smithereens. It'll be quick and painless, but you would hate to be another headstone in a graveyard that your family and Mark would have to visit. That's if they can separate your body from twisted metal and leather. With bated breath, you shift the car from park into drive and slam your foot down onto the gas. Clammy hands clench the wheel when you speed down the streets. You weren't prepped to see the mass destruction that greets you with every twist and turn you made. Bodies littered the streets, some in one piece, others most likely ripped into multiple pieces and scattered over the road and sidewalks. Collapsed buildings and homes make you swerve and splash puddles of oil and blood on the car's exterior. Your tires have run over a body part or more not to crash; the squish of flesh being flattened unnaturally is unmistakable in your ears.

"This is so fucked." You whisper under the roar of your pounding heartbeat. The city limit sign seems to grow closer and closer to you once you hit the wide-open highway. The drive through the rest of the city was thankfully quick, and you still were alive and unharmed. It's a miracle.

Your hope swells and stirs in the pit of your stomach like acid-covered butterflies, you're going to make it. You're going to make it! The delirious bubble of laughter peels from your parched throat, you can't help it. However, that laughter dies just as fast as it came. Just when you were going to pass that beloved city limit sign that seems just in arms reach now, your car hits the dark blue blur that launches itself in front of you. Your foot doesn't react quickly enough to hit the brake, but somehow you're violently stopped. Your chest hits the steering wheel, forehead threatening to follow suit if it wasn't for the seatbelt yanking you back just in time to save you from a concussion.

"Well, and who do we have here?" A male voice speaks out, way too calm for your own disorientated liking. "Hey pretty girl, didn't know if I'd see you again."

Again?!

You blink quickly, as a hand rubs at your bruising chest. In front of you, is . . Invincible. His color scheme is the same, black and blue, but he looks different. His ears stick out, and his hair is hidden away by his suit. His smile which you thought was charming and shy, is replaced with a sick stretched look. He bares all of his white teeth at you like a predator intimidating its prey. In your heart you know this isn't your Mark, it can't be. Not with the way he doesn't move a single centimeter of his body, he doesn't even look like he's breathing. The man is so quiet like he's waiting for you to freak out or scream, yet you disappoint him when you don't do either option. Boring, all you do is stare at him. Jaw slightly slacked, brain whirring a million microseconds a minute. His smile, however, doesn't waver. No, not at all; of course his pretty girl has always been smarter than any bimbo bitch that cried out when he flew through their bodies and ripped them to shreds in his hands.

It's what he loves- - no, it's what he was obsessed over back in his world. It was a shame you didn't last long in his care, and now it's like a higher being is rewarding him for his hard work here in your world to plant you in front of him so suddenly. He's glad the others didn't get to you first, who knows who he would have had to kill off his variants to get to you. He rounds to the side of the car so smoothly, your eyes watching his every step. A hand smacks down on the roof of the car, adding to the multitude of dents to its being. His other hand grips the handle of the driver's side door and pulls it off as easily as peeling off a sticker from its page.

He bends at the waist, his face invading your space far too close to your liking. He can smell the waves of fear and the new spike of adrenaline leaking from every pore of your body. Your natural scent mixed in is an addicting concoction that he never seemed to get enough of, you smell the same. You look just like the one in his home world. He hit the jackpot. You flinch at his movements, leaning far back in your car seat.

"Who are you?" Fuck you sound just like her. Your voice exhales so quietly, warmed breath fanning over the lower part of his face. Delicious.

The Invincible doesn't respond, doesn't even emote as much as that smile you start to grow unnerved of. It's unnatural, just like this entire day. Just like you don't know what the fuck even happened to get you to where you are now, staring in the face of a clone of your beloved Invincible.

[grimmsbride]

feel it …. ! ₊ཾִ ᖫྀ ⁣⁣.

headcap!mark, viltrumite!mark, lenseless!mark, & shiesty!mark & chubby/curvy!reader╲ they’re superheros, do you really think a little (or even a lot) of chub bothers them??

𖥔 ࣪˖ tags⠀⎯ reader is depicted as having a chubby / curvy body type. if that is an issue please don’t read. i also intended to write this in a non “chubby chaser” way however if you catch those vibes i personally apologize as that isn’t my intention. | separate hcs & blurbs | pet names | ooc characters (??) | spreading the mark loves chubby woman agenda | face sitting | rough sex | breath play | foul mouthed shiesty mark | being held up while being fucked | etc..

𖥔 ࣪˖ author’s notes⠀⎯ mark loves woman of all sizes like it’s the truth, and i’m plenty sure his variants feel the same or at least a little similar (and if they don’t?? who cares! 😚) as always please excuse any typos and grammar mistakes

HEADCAP!MARK.

( you can’t run. )

headcap! mark doesn’t go easy on anyone, not a little purple kid and especially not you. he enjoys pushing limits in your relationship, especially in the bedroom.

each thrust is rough, each rut is deep; stirring you up and leaving you to do nothing but take every single strike. and the man’s behavior is only exemplified the moment he realizes you simply can not escape him. granted, if you were any smaller you wouldn’t be able to either, but; with how tightly headcap!mark is gripping you, you can’t run.

and that fact will always rile him up.

the man hadn’t even fully slipped out of his suit before pursuing you; previously carelessly tearing at his pants and tossing them to the side. hands were all over your body, securing around your hips, waist, thighs, everywhere he could reach as his hips rutted against you.

your body shook with each powerful thrust, pleasure thundering through your body as he fucked you with no mercy. you couldn’t get accustomed to anything, it was far too much, tears streaming down your face as you rocked against your mattress. your fingers clawed against the plush blankets, sweet muffled moans escaping into the damp fabric.

headcap!mark was so deep, deeper then you sure was humanly possible; pressing up against your cervix, rubbing against that little spot that had you throbbing. and when you felt his hand switch around your body to spread your folds just a bit more— easily finding that little bud nestled between them, you couldn’t help but whine, pitching into a little shriek when he rubbed fierce circles upon the bud.

desperately you tried to crawl away, surely scratching up your blanket from how tightly you were holding. you got an inch, only an inch before headcap!mark’s free arm was slithering around your waist, pulling your ass flush against him.

“ah, ah..” the man tutted, lips curled into the shittiest little grin as he stared down at your withering body. “keep trying to run and you might hurt yourself..” the words meaning only seemed to amplify the moment his hand rose, quickly taking both of your wrists and pressing them right against the bed— all while leaning over to lay over you completely, trapping you.

you weeped softly, feeling your combined juices trickle down your thighs as pathetic little begs escaped your bruised lips. with the closeness you could hear the way he chuckled so deeply, feel his chest fall and rise with each release.

“m—mark.. fuck, please, please—!”

“shh.. let me show you how much i missed you.”

VILTRUMITE!MARK.

( you don’t trust how strong he is? how rude, he’ll just have to show you. )

it’s common knowledge strength is the most important value to the viltrum empire. every moment of their life is a battle, and if you fail to come out on top it’s death. plain and simple.

only this wasn’t a fight viltrumite! mark was used to. falling for you, learning how little you valued your body. he didn’t care to understand it really, but it did tick him off when you were always so.. scared.

the restraint in your body; getting tense when getting undressed, resisting being picked up, the whole nine yards. it’s to the point the man is genuinely offended.

half-viltrumite or not he was strong, strong enough to lead and defend his empire. you were nothing compared to half the things he’s fought.

and he has no problem showing you.

you couldn’t help but whine feeling his fingers dig into your skin as he lifted you. how odd was it that you could practically feel the power coursing through the digits, rising you without a single sweat. your legs wrapped around the man’s waist, his hips never stopping despite the new angle.

“baby, pl..please— have to put me down!” your body betrayed your words, entire being rocking and throbbing as viltrumite!mark fucked up into you. his tip nudged against that spongy spot, stretching you so perfectly without a single care. your arms wrapped around his neck, nails dragging across his skin to steady you.

“mm… too heavy!”

viltrumite!mark sucks his teeth at your declaration immediately, a tight glare in place of his usual neutral expression. that glare did wonders, your pussy throbbing around his length, devouring the expression with a blurred gaze.

“i’m sick of you going on about that.” the man practically spat, tone low and expressing his frustration with each pointed thrust. a groan thrummed from his throat, enjoying the way your gummy walls clamped around him far too much. “do you truly think i’m incapable of holding you however i want? does it look like i’m struggling?”

you whimpered at his words, shaking your head rapidly, keening the moment you felt a hand shift between the two of you; pinching your little bud. you caught on quickly, a swift— “no!” escaping in a jumbled speech.

satisfied with your answer viltrumite!mark tugged you even closer, hands sliding to your ass, kneading the flesh as blunt nails dug in.

“good. and i’ll continue to drill that fact into your head— no matter how many times it takes.”

LENSELESS!MARK.

( come on, too much? all he sees is more to love! )

lenseless!mark, the sadistic little freak who could only grin while fighting immortal. who thrives and lives off receiving and dealing out pain. affection nor love wasn’t a primary objective of his, but he didn’t mind finding you— perfect little you.

your size wasn’t much of a concern, sure he noticed it but he truly didn’t care…

until he realizes something.

you didn’t expect to end your afternoon like this, seated upon your lover’s face while he devoured on you like some full course meal. his arms, strong and large were wrapped tightly around your legs; refusing to let you move, keeping you secured against him with no escape. your hands clenched the headboard, forehead resting against the cool wood as sweet sobs escaped. lenseless!mark has been toying with you for what it seemed like hours, sucking your folds and little bud raw.

see, lenseless!mark realized something about himself rather quickly. he enjoyed tipping the line during sex, especially when it came to air. he couldn’t count on a single hand how many times he’s had you wrap your pretty little hands around his throat to squeeze. so when the man actually used his head for once, realizing how thrilling it would be having you sit right on his face— he was practically begging for it.

and oh, did he love every single second of it. the weight of you, the sweet taste; each breath came out as some weak little shudder, your thighs pressing against his ears to the point he could only hear his own swift heartbeat. lenseless!mark wondered if he could pass out like this, maybe even drown right in your juices.

fortunately he didn’t care, not one bit. there was nothing like sucking your little clit just to feel you wither, clench, and trickle more juices.

this was heaven on earth.. or more specifically, heaven on his face.

SHIESTY!MARK

( give him a second, his favorite show is on starring you; and the ripples of your body. )

we’ve gotten to the point it’s clear no mark in any universe gives a damn about his lover’s size. and even if there was one, it certainly wasn’t shiesty!mark. foul-mouthed and all, do you truly think he would love you any different any other size? really, it’s like you don’t know him at all.

granted, it is pretty obvious how much he loves your body. the stretch marks etched into your skin, the way a shirt cupped those pretty tits— shiesty!mark especially loved the way your body jiggled. rippled, shook— whatever word; he loved it. far too much..

there was just something so hypnotizing about how your body moved whenever he drilled into you.

“fuck, baby..” the words are whispered in a low drawl, pure amazement tugging every single letter. like some leering pervert shiesty!mark’s gaze was settled onto your body, struggling to pick between your back and ass to watch. every inch was simply amazing, adding to the absolutely wonderful feeling of your walls sucking him in greedily.

soft plaps echo throughout the room as his hips slammed against you, the perfect pitch to the melodic moans that escaped your wet lips. you hadn’t a clue what had gotten into him. one moment you’re jumping into some jeans the next they’re on the floor— forgotten completely.

your cheek pressed against the blankets, turning and glancing at the man with blurred vision. you couldn’t place it, but he seemed to be in a trance— under some type of spell only you could muster. shiesty!mark’s lips were parted, quick breaths and even quicker swears escaping as he thrusted into you.

“look at that..” he’s muttering to himself again, a hand sliding from your waist to grab an ass cheek. the flesh fills his palm easily, spreading you to watch his cock disappear within you before coming out even slicker then before. “shit, so fucking good. shaking like a damn leaf.” the moment shiesty!mark notices your eyes on him he’s grinning, gripping your flesh as his thrusts become just a little more pointed.

pretty moans fall off your tongue, eyes pinching close as your entire body shook with the movement. his name emitted from you in broken sobs, legs shaking as you could do nothing but take each thrust.

all while shiesty!mark smiles, throughly enjoying it all.

“maybe i should record next time.. then you’ll be able to see how good you look like this for yourself.”

[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. (Special at the end!)

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

Previously on 'To Be Desired' ... 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 being 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 in response.

"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 tangled in 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 hold of domination, a vice-like clamp 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. You always did talk too much, so he figured he'd show you. The underground vibrations beat against your eardrums as he cradled you. Your gaze was 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 rising 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 in 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 expected. 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 make 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. He fucked almost with a hatred. 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 sharp enough to catch every one, his tactics shifting 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 snapping into 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 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 dimension's 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. His lips parted, as if to utter something sentimental, his gaze hardening. 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 asked rhetorically, one hand resting at his side. His overzealous grin gleamed beneath the obscurity of his features. Not to mention… was he bald? His appearance was a far cry from his better counterpart. You kept raking over every detail, unsure what unsettled you more.

“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 without a sound, the silence eerie—like a grinning cat toying with its prey.

There was dried blood riddled through his costume, his demeanor confident as he strutted toward 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.

He shoved you roughly against the hood of the car, his fingers tracing 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 tear them off. Instead, he pulled the fabric aside to watch your tits bounce, your pussy lips already weeping.

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 pushed 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, and every stroke caused a slight bulge to imprint in your lower abdomen. Your moans encouraged him—urged him to go deeper, to claim you completely. “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—mixed with what he couldn’t tell was 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 friend's? 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 cocked 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 you 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 was 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 to 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 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 for 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 was 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 yours, 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’d 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. His mind and body were one. His ragged gasps produced a small cloud of condensation through his mask. His dick a red, irritated mess with smeared pre-cum. Messy. Desperate. 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 cushioned 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 judgment. He grips your hips tighter, slamming you down on his cock with 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 be differentiated. 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. (If interested in Mark's subplot (same scenario), it's linked: here.)

MasterList ོ༘₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚

[stareiiez]

streetracer! headcap mark who has you like a pretty little thing on his arm during car meets. his brothers fucking hate seeing you with him, and they purposefully try to compete so they can get your eyes on them too.

streetracer!headcap mark who has your panties dangling from his rearview mirror as a good luck charm. the crotch stays slightly damp all the time, just because of all the times he gets a good whiff during an adrenaline high and he can't help but lick the part where your pussy has touched.

streetracer!headcap mark who wins every single fucking race, because you're his motivation to have backseat or on the hood of his car sex after a win. he fucks even harder if he cuts it real close to a win, and his agitation gets the best of him for letting a bastard try and get the jump on him.

streetracer! headcap mark who does donuts in the middle of the street. your legs are dangling out the passenger window and he's got one hand on the wheel and the other in your hair, so you don't break away from the hard makeout he's dragged you into meanwhile.

streetracer! headcap mark who comes to you in the dead of night so you can patch him up if he happens to get a little banged up, and he needs you to make the pain go away.

streetracer! headcap mark who revs his engine EXTRA fucking loud when dropping you off at your college dorm, and he wakes up the entire fucking block because he wants them to KNOW his girl is home, and he's the fucking best.

[stareiiez]

headcap!invincible and how he loves to make you cry.

choking you too hard when he's throwing your backout from how hard he fucks you? yes please. You, crying and begging for absolute mercy and for god to save you when he makes you cum too many times, and you're so overstimulated it actually hurts than feels good. 𝘏𝗘𝗟𝗟 𝝪𝗘𝗦. Manhandling you way too hard to the point you think your bones will break because he's got your wrists in both of his hands, and he's using them as leverage to fuck himself deeper into your cunt from behind? thats his SHIT.

All the while while you cry like a stupid bitch, he smiles that creepy fucking smile that pulls too hard at his lips and his eyes are glazed over and lifeless behind his goggles while he watches your body bounce against his thrusts. You don't even know if he's even feeling good, he doesn't moan or grunt. He's way too quiet, he just prefers to watch how your body contorts illogically sharp from his demanding hands.

You only know he's even getting his rocks off, and loving this shit when one corner of his mouth twitches and air hisses out from between flashing teeth. He fills you to the brim, before grabbing you by the roots of your hair and slamming you in a new position to fuck you all over again just so he can see how hard you can cry for him now.

[stareiiez]

You're Mine, Now and Forever

chapter one

notes: shorter chap this time, the gym and 3D art critiques tired my little brain out.

warnings: MINORS DNI

The wind drowns out your screams for help. Considering how fast this Invincible is flying with you tucked tight to his chest, you wouldn't doubt that anyone down below you could hear you now. Anyone still possibly alive wouldn't give half a rat's ass to save the damsel in distress, screaming at the top of her lungs because she's being kidnapped against her will. Your limbs are tired from the slaps and punches you gave to the male when he first wrenched you from the car and pinned you to his stone rock body. You're weak compared to his alien bloodline; it's like he's being pelted by very soft feathers. It's only making you cuter in his eyes, even if that cuteness will turn tiresome if you keep this stupid shit up.

His eyes roll behind his goggles, sighing out while you inhale another lungful of air and scream for the umpteenth time. He hopes to god, this war shit was good enough for Angstrom to send him home now. Or else he's going to pop that stupid-looking excuse for a head off his skinny body and play kickball with it when the other variants come back. Childish delusions aside, he's quite happy with himself for finding you on sheer luck. You still use the same kind of shampoo that you used to, god, he's never letting you go again.

Thankfully, you've grown lightheaded enough to remain quiet for the rest of the short trip back to Angstrom's rendevous location. The bastard is sitting on a sad excuse for a throne of twisted metal and glowing scraps when the two of you land with a harsh thud in front of him. "Send me home, now." His voice states bluntly, his hands bruising your bicep and hip. he talks like you aren't even present. The other man doesn't attempt to question your safety, you doubt bad guys have that bone in their body to harbor empathy for the weak.

'You're not done yet, the variants are still fighting those heroes. You can't quit now." Angstrom quirks a misshapen brow, his skull pulsates in a sick fashion; like his brain is melting into his skin to become one sick brown-colored flesh sac. Your nose wrinkles.

"You promised me another world, but I found a new one." The Invincible squeezes you, to prove his point. It sounds fucking cheesy, but he knows what he meant. Even if the words make the back of his mouth taste sour.

"And so you have, I didn't think your kind was capable of positive fluctuating emotions."

Your neck quirks when you're grabbed so viciously tight again, and your breath squeaks against the shell of his ear. You swear you feel your vertebrae pop, but maybe that's just due to your joints being stressed and you're not seconds away from being squeezed to death because this Invincible hasn't gotten his way yet as if it would have been easy in the first place.

"Send me home, or I'll do what your Mark couldn't and wipe you off the face of the E-" His voice gets cut off by the sound and the strong apparent suction of the green portal that opens up behind him. Both of your combined yells are abrupt and cut off just as quickly as they were let out when you were pulled into the neon green void. Angstrom was wiped out of your view in a matter of seconds.

That was the only way to shut up yapping feral dogs that bit and nipped at his ankles, by giving them what they want so they never bother him again. Your eyes blink

rapidly, at the change of scenery. You can't tell what's different from your home, it looks like you never left; however, everything looks slightly off. The color of the grass is a little too green, and the cars driving by honk a little too loud. You're beyond overstimulated and overwhelmed, that suffocating in this Invincible's arms would be a paradise for you. The male hums, satisfied with this outcome. He's thrilled to be back home that smile you start to hate, when he aims it at you, flickers down onto your pale pale expression. You look like you're about to pass out, and he couldn't be happier.

The air screams in your ears when he takes off without warning. Your arms wrap around his neck on instinct, thanks to Mark taking you out for ' fly dates' every other night when he's not a superhero around the world and beyond. Your heart drops in your stomach at the thought of your boyfriend. For all he knows, he thinks you died in whatever is going on back home. How you wish you could have told him you loved him back in that one short phone call, now who knows when you'll ever be able to say it to him again?

Houses, streetlights, skyscrapers, and cars blur beneath the both of you. City life goes on peacefully from what you can decipher in watercolors that whirl below teary gaze. You blame the wind for that, and not the dread and homesickness that makes your arms wrap tighter around the male. You hate how your body reacts to your kidnapper, just because he has the same build and the same figure as your boyfriend. Maybe in some sick delusion, he would sound like him too if he was nice to you and touched you better.

You're jostled in his arms when the two of you descend rather roughly in front of a house. His house. It looks perfectly fine, with nothing outta place. The color of the shingles and paneling still matches Mark's home back in your world. You swallow thickly, hating how perfectly normal his world looks. You thought someone like him would be born and bred in nothing but hellfire and misery. So what went so damn wrong for this superhero to end up fucked and abnormal in attitude.

"Home sweet home." He speaks, cheery with a sort of raspy twang in his tone that makes something in your spinal column curl inwards. You hate it. His arms, still wrapped around you, shove you forward.

You stumble your way forward, as the invincible guides you forward like smelly dumb cattle. You haven't dared to open your mouth, not yet. Not when you fear to make a fool of yourself to this version's mother and his father. Who knows what this Omni-Man was capable of in this world? Time travel, dimensions, and realities were still fresh to you. Mark never spoke in such detail about them, just due to how worried or uneasy you looked when he had to describe just how different alien anatomies are from your own. You did like the mementos he brought, however, the weird rocks he'd pocket somehow in the nonexistent pockets of his suit. The crumbles of alien flora, or pretty architecture pieces he'd slip in the confines of his boot for safekeeping so he can show it off when he's back in your bed and telling you the very few stories he had about his time in space or whatnot.

Your eyes droop down on the corners, heartache wracking your chest at possibly never getting to giggle over Mark's terrible impressions of the species he'd meet, just so he could see you smile after you were done worrying over him.

"Watch it." You hissed under your breath when you got pushed forward again. The tips of your shoes tripped over the only step to the Graysons' front door.

He ignores you, 'cept for putting a gloved hand on the back of your neck while his other hand reaches over your shoulder for the doorknob, and pushes the door open after a twist of his wrist.

Where you expected to be greeted by Oliver running around, or gossiping to his mom about his older brother sneaking out in the middle of the night to see his version of a girlfriend or partner. You're met with stomach-dropping silence, and the house looks empty. The house doesn't even feel like a home that Mark Grayson's home typically felt like when you visited it often. It felt more like a prison, and your jailer was guiding you by the neck inside. The home felt cold, blinds pulled tight enough to hide the outside world from your wandering gaze. Your arms wrap around your middle and squeeze to try and conserve what little body heat you have.

The door of your cell closes behind you, and you jump too high, much to the chagrin of the Invincible that held you collared. He exhales from his nose, sliding the deadbolt of the lock with his other hand.

He doesn't give you much time to play spot the difference between the living room and kitchen of the house before he leads you up the stairs to the bedrooms. His fingers are a constant reminder as they brush up and down over the pulse point of your neck. You take the steps one at a time, choking down another bout of nausea when his supposed bedroom door stares you in the face. You brace for the worst, thinking that this is where you'll die. This sick bastard just likes to play guard and prisoner with his victims before he tears them in half and goes to sleep in their blood and gore.

His bedroom looks just the same, clean and untouched. The bed made, the posters of Science Dog and other comics have been stripped from the walls. Anything that screamed childlike and so young adult have been scrubbed from the small bedroom, it's so sterile and bland. Another shove and you're sent taking a few steps roughly into the bedroom, catching yourself before you trip and fall.

"Get to liking it here, I don't care either way." The male leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest while his eyes trail over your figure behind black lenses. "I'll be back later."

Your eyes widen, and the thought of being left alone makes your whole body seize up in a wash of unease. "Wait! You can't just kidnap me and leave me here, I don't even know you."

"Watch me." In a blink, before you can comprehend the audacity of it all, the bedroom door closes and locks in front of you. The invincible is gone in a flash, his footsteps thudding away and down the stairs methodically slow.

Panic seizes in your mind, and stupidly you rush forward, trying your dumb luck at wiggling the doorknob frantically. Your breath comes out in faster beats, you're on the brink of hyperventilation when the door doesn't open, and you turn on your heel to give a try at the open-faced windows. The window sills don't budge an inch when you try and wrench slightly dusty glass panes open, your muscles quiver and strain. Your face turns fuchsia in the worthless effort he's gone ahead and planned for you to try and run. He's nailed or glued the windows shut. The walls feel like they're closing in as you grow light-headed with all your wasted strength to fight a losing battle against stubborn window panes. At some point, you're begging for mercy under your breath. Hoping some god, any god, would take pity on your nightmarish situation and save you as best they can.

But they don't. You wear yourself out before any higher being can be bothered to hear your reverent prayers. The walls of the bedroom close more around you, the oxygen in the room grows thinner, and your heart beats harder and your chest even tries and keep you functioning. You're spiraling into a panic attack, or maybe even a heart attack, with how your arms feel prickly and sharp under the layers of skin and muscle. Either or, you hope one of them kills you before you come to accept that you're a prisoner now. At some point, your ass thuds down on the hardwood floor and you end up curling in on yourself. You form into a tight little ball of tears and snot, you're crying. You've panicked yourself enough to crash down hard and let your weary body sob and scream into the folds of your clothing. Your cries bounce off the walls of Mark Grayson's bedroom, it's a mockery of what was once your safe space.

[stareiiez]

headcap , sinister, viltrumite invincible variants kisses you like he wants to peel back every layer of your skin and lick your muscles clean. he kisses with gloveless fingers gripping your mandible, the tips of his pointer and middle finger dipping into your parted lips.

his tongue is hot and heavy in your mouth, licking your tongue till you taste nothing but his spit and the lightest touch of spilled blood that's splattered in his mouth. it's not his blood, and your stomach curls just slightly at the thought.

his other hand curls into the roots of your hair and pulls your head back. just so he can cover your bent form with his own, he's hovering above the ground and still manages to tower over you. tongues licking and pruning the tips of his fingers, he pushes them slightly deeper till you nearly gag.

he kisses till you can't breathe, and your face turns pink and hot in his palm. drool dribbles from the corner of your mouth, and trails down your chin. thats the only time he would let you breathe, just to drag his wet tongue and catch droplets of shared spit and shove it back into your wrenched open mouth.

you both kiss till he's tired of it, or bored enough to just shove his fingers further in your mouth for you to suck while he bites your neck. or, he kisses you until you wrench away with a sharp cry and clamp a hand over your mouth. blood floods behind your teeth, and your tongue burns. your eyes are watery, and through bleary pupils you watch him flash blood covered teeth menacingly.

[grimmsbride]

false heroics …. ! ₊ཾִ ᖫྀ ⁣⁣.

mohawk! & headcap! mark ╲ the instructions were to fight the two invincible variants, not fuck them you silly, silly girl.

𖥔 ࣪˖ tags⠀⎯ sex in mid air | fear kink | dub-con(? reader is into everything this is just incase) | manhandling | overstimulation | multiple orgasms | threesome | short little blurb | degradation | etc.

𖥔 ࣪˖ author’s notes ⠀⎯ i made a post about this idea like weeks ago, and just made a silly little blurb. also if you aren’t sure who headcap mark is, it’s the finest one that fought oliver and cracked his fucking shoulders just to turn me on. please enjoy.

You were a hero, someone people looked up to during their time of need. There eyes would simply focus on the sky, watching you soar by and knowing everything would be alright. You had that much of an effect on people. So much responsibility weighing on your shoulders, mistakes weren’t something you could afford.

So, why exactly, were you committing the biggest one of your entire career. Sorry, not one, but two.

Why on Earth instead of defending your city against its sudden invaders, were you getting completely ruined by not one— but two of them.

All above the wrecked streets they left behind.

“Hey, hey— where are you looking!?” The voice tugged you from your mind, dissipating as complete ecstasy shrouded your thoughts. The words felt so far away but close all the same, cloudy judgment no longer able to comprehend a thing.

Another voice came, one in the form of a chuckle; detailing their amusement in the most condescending manner.

“What a fucked out mess, can’t even think straight can you— little miss hero?”

The holder of such tone, Mohawk!Mark stared at you with several emotions swirling in that crazed gaze. He watched the way you withered around him, how each time his hips moved you were babbling incoherent sentences and moans that dripped with honey. With each push your body was jerking, legs threatening to close— but never budging.

Curtesy of the other Invincible flush behind you, his hands tight on your chubby thighs, spreading you for all the world to see. Headcap!Mark’s chin rested on your shoulder, watching the way your pussy so desperately sucked up his variant’s dick, squelching with each thrust, a sound that combined with the wind passing by the three of you.

Just a second ago the two intended to kill you, even briefly fighting over who got to do it. But in some sort of miracle — whether for you or them — the two quickly realized what a waste it would be.

Deciding the best course of action was this. Angstrom’s wishes could wait after their little fun.

“Mm—!” Tears pricked at your eyes from both the air and pleasure, screwing shut as your hands clenched and unclenched. You hadn’t a clue how long this has been going on, how many thrusts, how many times you’ve gushed around his dick. Your focus was completely gone, a mess of a hero; a disappointment who seemed to only think with what’s between her legs.

But you didn’t care. You didn’t need to think right now, didn’t need to focus on a thing but how good you were feeling. And it truly did feel amazing. Mohawk!Mark’s shaft dragged across your velvety walls so pleasantly, veins pulsing inside you. He was pushing deep, tip striking against that special spot at the most perfect angle; your already blurry vision suddenly being dotted with black spots with each hit.

“Fu—fuck.. please, please—!”

Pretty, desperate whines escaped your lips in a wet gasp, the two men eating it up entirely. Headcap!Mark carefully released one of your legs, instead reaching over for your face. Taking your cheeks within his fingers, the man turned you to face his half-masked features.

“Is this really one of Earth’s best heroes? Hm.. I’m starting to feel bad.” He watched the way your eyes opened, gaze glossed and full with pleasure filled tears. Such a sight had him grinning, thumb lowering to your lips and rubbing the area roughly.

“Come on, push us off, don’t you have a city to protect?”

A particularly hard thrust caused you to nearly shriek, shaking and struggling to find the response to his question.

“Y—you, I.. can’t..”

“You, I, can’t—“ Your attention was stolen from the Invincible behind you to the one infront of you, spotting that shit-eating grin capturing his lips as he mocked you.

“Use your words, or is the only thing that whorish brain can come up with are moans?”

“Fu..fuck, you—!”

You shuddered at the way their laughter surrounded you, vibrating against your already weak body.

“You already are, miss hero.”

“And you’re enjoying every second of it.”

You suddenly felt Mohawk!Mark grab your discarded thigh, pushing even closer as he drilled into you. You hadn’t a clue how he was fucking you so well in the air, but the explanation was quickly added to the growing list of your least worries. Your head tossed back against Headcap!Mark’s shoulder, whimpering as your pussy clenched so tightly.

The Invincible infront of you groaned, fingers digging into your flesh as he rutted into your aching body. That coil inside your stomach tightened, a familiar pressure building as hurried breaths dragged off your tongue.

With one final thrust you were coming undone, coating his lower half in your arousal, a flash of white even invading your vision.

You were truly thankful their hold on you was pretty tight, given how your body slumped from the exhaustion.

Soft pants escaped, chest rising and slowly falling as you sucked up the air. Your eyes closed in hopes of relaxing for a moment, only to feel familiar fingers clench your cheeks once again, stealing your attention back.

You peeked slowly, spotting the way Headcap!Mark’s lips pulled into a splitting grin. His body was close, bulge rubbing against your ass, aching for attention.

“Don’t pass out on us just yet. It’s my turn, after all.”

[stareiiez]

sighs , opens up grammarly so i can write about headcap/ sinister invincible x reader cause im a whore for men .

with some Stockholm syndrome till mark finds me :3