#invincible fanfiction

[sanguineterrain]

Mark Grayson x reader where reader is smitten as hell and just loves giving him a kiss wherever on his face when they get a chance to bc that boy deserves it and deserves nice things- < / 3

short but sweet! this was a lovely prompt - he IS the goodest boy and he DOES deserve nice things. need to chew him like a dog toy, frankly.

mark grayson x gn!reader. fluff, established relationship, physical affection, mark getting loved on the way god intended!!!!!

****

Out of the corner of your eye, you see blue and yellow. Your window latch creaks, and you stand.

The sound elicits a Pavlovian response in you. Ever since you and Mark started dating, he's taken to landing on your roof and climbing through your window instead of going through the hassle of using the door. And as soon as you hear the latch, you're up, body already thrumming with anticipation at seeing your boyfriend.

Sure enough, Mark's crouched outside your window, purposely being slow in his movements so as not to startle you. He pushes your window open.

His hair is fluffy from the wind. He pulls his goggles up over his hair, making it stick up at odd angles. The sight overwhelms you, and you can't wait past him climbing inside.

You're on him as soon as Mark steps inside, cutting off his "hey, baby" with a solid kiss.

"Mmph!" he exclaims as you grab his face and first kiss his mouth, putting your all into it.

His hands land on your waist after several dazed seconds, and he's pliant as you wrap your arms around him and scratch the baby hairs at the nape of his neck.

You pull back for a hot second, just long enough to see how Mark's eyes have glazed over. He often gets like that when you pet and touch him. You suspect it's because he's not used to it, all this physical affection.

You immediately go back in with more kisses, peppering them all over his face. Mark lets you back him against the wall, and you kiss his cheeks, his eyelids, his chin, and his forehead.

"Wha'... what's this for?" he asks after a minute, puppy-eyed as you lavish him with attention.

"'Cause I wanna love on you," you say. "Missed you."

"I was only gone a day."

You hug him hard because you can, because he can take it. Mark squeezes you back gently, practically glowing from the affection.

"Just get really happy when I see you," you say, unable to fit your elation into words. 'Happy' is an understatement of what you're feeling. But Mark seems to understand.

He laughs quietly. "I really missed you too. You're always so sweet to me."

"Because you deserve sweetness," you say, and kiss him on the lips again. "You get all the sweetness in the world, Mark."

He swallows, opening and closing his mouth like you've overwhelmed him. You nip at his jawbone to let him know that it's okay. That he doesn't have to muster up a reply.

"Can we, uh..." Mark clears his throat. "Can we just... cuddle for a while? Is that okay?"

You beam. "Of course it is. I'll always curl up with you, babylove."

The name makes Mark shy. He chews the inside of his cheek and smiles, looking at you.

"'Kay. Be right back."

You get comfortable in bed as Mark takes the sweats he left in your drawer last night and changes, taking less than five seconds to do so. He crawls into bed, limbs heavy with exhaustion and your onslaught of affection.

You lie there and let Mark pick a position. He settles on throwing a leg over you and hugging you with his whole body, head tucked under your chin. You turn into him, hand returning to scratch his scalp.

"Thank you for loving on me. And taking care of me," he says, breathing evening out.

"No thanks necessary," you say, kissing his hair. "'S what I'm here for."

[mishibashimori]

Two Of Us || Cecil Stedman x Reader || Chapter 7

Synopsis: You are an alien who crash landed onto Earth. You have no name, and no more home to go back to. The Guardians of the Globe have rescued you and brought you to get intensive care under the great Cecil Stedman. In helping out your new home, Earth, will you develop a relationship with the coldest man you know?

General Info: AFAB Gender Neutral Reader, Cecil is Younger in the Beginning and it Will Lead to Current Events, Reader is a Bubbly Optimist, Reader Description is Intentionally Vague so You can Imagine the Alien Species They Are However You’d Like

TW: Verbal and Physical Past Abuse, Failed Pregnancy Mentions, Depression, Self Depreciation, Eventual Sexual Content

Specific Chapter TW: PTSD Panic Attack

———————————

The hospital wing of the GDA was alight with chatter. You had gotten the news only a few minutes ago that Alana had awoken, and you spent no time racing to her hospital room. Holly of course was also there, beaming with joy as she peppered her girlfriend’s face with kisses. Alana had been out of commission for a week due to her injuries. It was a lot better than the alternative, death, if you hadn't intervened and taken some of the damage onto yourself. Your wounds had healed just fine, almost as soon as the next day, and you would’ve done it a million times over to help her.

“We’re so happy to have you back,” Holly said to Alana, absolutely delighted, “we’ve missed you.”

“I’m happy to be back.” Alana gave her a kiss on the nose and turned to you. “I’ve been dying to see everyone again, literally. What did I miss?”

“Not too much, don’t worry.” You assured her. “But I bet you must be starving. Want me to grab you both something?”

“That would be great!” Alana exclaimed, sitting straight up in her bed. “The cafeteria has some bunny chow that’s to die for. It’s something my mom used to make all the time, and it sounds delicious right now.”

“I’ll take the same, thank you.” Holly smiled at you.

“On it!” You stood and headed out, happy to be doing something to help. Winding down the halls, you eventually came upon the cafeteria, ordered, and sat to wait.

It had been a few days since your last conversation with Cecil. You’d seen each other every now and then and said hello, but that was it. Despite your emotions you forced yourself to be patient on the matter. It couldn’t be easy for him to make this decision, and rushing him wouldn’t help matters either. So, you waited, distracting yourself with Earth television and puzzles; that really seemed to be all the entertainment they had available here. With Alana now awake though, you didn’t feel half as lonely anymore. Training with your friends, The Guardians of the Globe, helped too.

“You know that isn’t free, right?” You almost leaped out of your skin as Cecil’s voice sounded next to you.

“Sheesh! Do you ever make a noise?” You chided him lightly, a slight laugh to your voice. “And, wait, what do you mean?”

Cecil nodded towards the cafeteria. “Did you think the food was free here? It’s been going on my tab.” He smirked at you, the amusement in his eyes betraying his jokingly annoyed tone.

“No way,” you gawked at him, feeling stupid, “I’m so sorry. I really didn’t think too much about it.”

Cecil shrugged, taking a seat next to you. “It’s fine. Not like we’re paying you at the moment anyway.” There was a brief lapse in silence as you two sat together. It had been a while since you’d spoken at length.

You glanced at him. “I’ve been thinking about something.” He glanced back at you, quirking his eyebrow in question. “When I first got here, you said you didn’t know much about my planet, yet you knew the flower my people give to the sick.”

Cecil looked down at his lap, chuckling to himself. “After you arrived we sent some satellites to uh, ‘freshen up our knowledge’ on your species.” He scratched his chin. “I was curious as to how you knew English, yet you’d never been in contact with Earth. Didn’t know a species could have a part of their brain for translation.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “You learned all that from some satellites?”

“Science is amazing.” He snorted, looking back up at you. “But we learned the last bit from your brain scans. The satellites just picked up random strings of information. We always knew of your planet, just… never had a reason to interact until now.”

“I see.” You responded simply, impressed yet slightly disturbed. “You humans are thorough.”

“Just me.” He turned to look down the hallway that led to the hospital rooms. “I hear Alana’s awake, that’s good. The team’s not the same without her.” He turned back to you. “What do you think, by the way? About joining the Guardians. You’re keeping up well, and you definitely have the skills.”

Your cheeks burned at the sudden compliment. “Oh—uh, I like it.” Then you gave a slight tilt of your head, thinking harder. “But I don’t know. It’s terrifying to think about saving people. I’m happy to help, and I love the team but…” you trailed off, looking down.

“Hey, don’t worry about it, you still have time to make a decision. And I get it, believe me, it is a scary thing.” Cecil nudged your shoulder with his. “You’ll always have a home here, whatever you choose.”

“I can’t believe you’ve been so nice to me,” you blurted out. It had been on your mind since you arrived here, and while you didn’t mean to bring it up so abruptly, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. It puzzled you as to why this man- let alone this planet, would help you to this extent. To question it seemed to be looking a gift horse in the mouth, but the nagging in your brain burst through. “It scared me at first. I thought maybe it came with a price. It was hard for me to believe that people really- well, cared.”

“From what you’ve told me, I can understand why you’d think that. And I don’t want to lie to you, at first my intentions weren’t… something you might approve of.” Cecil leaned back in his chair. “Fix up an alien who might have useful abilities, and have them join the Guardians. Or just have you help on your own. I feel guilty about it now that I’ve gotten to know you, but my job, the world, came first. If I had an asset in my debt, it could mean saving lives.” He cast his eyes down guiltily, unable to look at you. “That’s why I didn’t want to get any closer to you, I felt horrible.”

You swallowed hard, anger flickering to life in your chest. His words were like a knife to the heart. “I was wrong about you.” You murmured in disbelief. “I’m so stupid.” Part of you knew it was ridiculous to have convinced yourself of anything else. Of course that was the goal. You were a stranger to this world, why else would they help you? This world had no obligation to you, and yet it hurt so bad when it was said aloud.

Cecil’s head snapped toward you, true panic etching his features. “I don’t— I don’t think that way anymore. I would never— I wouldn’t of forced you to-”

“How dare you!” You snarled, bolting up from your seat. Flashes of your past raced through your mind, an uncontrollable hurricane of hurt and trauma wiping away anything but fury. “I trusted you, and you wanted to use me?”

“No!” Cecil also stood, gently reaching his hand towards you. You shoved it away, tears starting to stream down your flushed face.

“You told me I’m not an object, you told me that!” Your voice was raising by the word, now a shout. An uncontrollable tremor shook through you. It felt awful to yell, and your mind was screaming for you to stop, but spite and a rising anxiety spurred you on.

“And I meant it, every word.” Cecil talked softly, but his voice trembled. “I wouldn’t dream of using any of that against you. That wasn't what I wanted to do, I swear. The more I learned about you, the more I couldn’t stop thinking about you. In-in a good way- ugh, this sounds terrible.” He rubbed his forehead, looking frustrated with himself. “If I’d known about your past from the start I wouldn’t have even thought that way. It was wrong, and I’m so sorry.” His distraught eyes searched yours. “I didn’t want to hurt you, I would never want to hurt you.”

Taking deep breaths, you tried to calm yourself. Your thoughts were still raging with painful memories, the hurt in your chest throbbing hotly, but you forced yourself to think straight. “You really mean that?”

“Of course.” He took a small step towards you. “Thinking about not having you in my life; it tore me up to no end. As hard as I’ve made it to believe, I just- I really like you.” He cringed to himself. “I’m horrible with words- I’m sorry, that sounded like a highschool confession. What I’m trying to say is: you make me feel normal, like a person with no responsibilities. When I’m with you it feels like—like all I have to do is just enjoy being alive.”

All you could do was stare in silence for a while. Conflicting feelings warred through you. This normally cold, steely man looked utterly heartbroken at the thought of hurting you. In the time you’d known Cecil, it wasn’t hard to figure out that the man had a guard. You had seen brief, genuine glimpses into him and relished every moment, but now was more than just a mere glimpse. His features were soft, his posture as harmless and open as he could manage. It was a first to see him this way, and it was because he was truly worried about you.

The previous years of being imprisoned were not easy to erase, to say the least. Your captor wouldn’t hit you per say, but directed his savagery to your brother. He knew you’d heal the poor young boy, so he maliciously manipulated you into transferring the wounds to yourself. It wasn’t something you wanted to talk about at length, at least not now. You’d told Cecil a little but the details seemed too hard to choke out. It seemed silly to think, as it was a horrendous thing for anyone to go through, but you didn’t know how much it had really, truly affected you until now. Sadness radiated through you; had you really become so broken? Had your captor stolen away your trust?

Cecil cast his gaze downward, breathing in deeply. “You have every right to hate me. I hate me too. It was out of line.” You stepped closer, hesitating for only a moment before slowly encircling your arms around him. His back stiffened at first, unsure of your touch, then he wrapped you up tightly. The anger in your body melted away.

“I believe you, and I forgive you.” You mumbled into his chest, relaxing against him. “I’m sorry. Just— so much of the pain in my past centers around being controlled and used. I’ve never come to terms with the trauma that was caused.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” He rubbed your head tenderly. Suddenly his eyes flicked past you, and his expression shifted. Confused, you followed his gaze and found a gaggle of cafeteria workers gaping at the two of you. Suddenly sheepish, you broke away from Cecil and shuffled towards the counter, grabbing the food and thanking them before slipping into a secluded part of the far hallway, out of sight.

Cecil joined you a second later. “Don’t worry about them. I’ll have a word.” He motioned for you to start walking, to which he joined next to you. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around much. I’ll make some time for us to talk properly, without anyone staring at us.”

“You’re busy, I understand.” You looked to the side, feeling a bit awkward. “I’m-I’m sorry for yelling, really. I should’ve handled that better.”

“You had an appropriate reaction to someone telling you ‘I was going to indebt you to me secretly’, I think.” Cecil responded, to which you have an uncomfortable chuckle. There was a silence for a moment before he continued. “I will do things to protect this planet that you might not like. I need you to know that. If we want to continue our relationship that’s… something that will need to be addressed.”

“We’ll talk about it.” You responded. “There are things I need you to know as well. And, um, do you offer therapy here, by chance?”

“Of course.” Cecil shoved his hands in his pockets. “If that’s something you’d like to start, we can make that happen. And don’t worry, our psychiatric medicine is some of the best, and trained to deal with more unnatural situations. They provide services to heros, after all.”

“Thank you.” You gave him a smile. “I think it would be great to get some of this off my chest. And learn how to handle it better.”

“I’ve had to do some in my time here, for sure.” Cecil gave you a sidelong glance. “It’s nothing to be ashamed about. I’m proud of you for taking that step. It’s a hard one.”

“Thank you, Cecil.” You both had come to Alana’s room.

Stopping outside the door, Cecil turned to you. “Here.” He placed a square device on the tray of food in your hands. “This is a phone, it’ll allow us to get in contact easier. It’s not the fanciest thing but it’ll do the trick.” He nodded towards the room containing Holly and Alana. “They can teach you to use it, it’s not too hard. I’ll be in touch, rookie.”

In a blazing flash of light Cecil vanished through his teleporter. At first it had startled you, but you’d gotten used to the bright assault to your eyes. You opened the door in front of you and stepped into the room, the smiling faces of Alana and Holly greeting you. “Hey!” You blurted out. “I’m going to therapy!”

——————

Author’s Note:

Hello everyone! I wanted to clarify that the reader of this story has a lot of emotional and mental stuff to heal, so the reader often thinks in a self depreciative way. Everyone deserves to love themselves and I do not want anyone to think that you deserve less or are “broken” because you are traumatized. I have PTSD myself, and I hope I wrote it in a way that can explain that it’s not always easy to think highly of yourself or express your emotions when you’ve been traumatized. I am indeed having the reader go into therapy to learn how to heal from these past traumas. Therapy is great and I really suggest everyone go into therapy, even if you’re not mentally ill. It’s a benefit to everyone!

Disclaimer:

I try to be as accurate as possible to the source material for this fan fiction, but at times I’ll get it wrong. The timelines for the Guardians of the Globe as well as Cecil are not as accurate as they should be but for the sake of wanting to have all the characters in here I fudged it. Just know that I understand not everything is accurate but let’s just try to have a good time regardless!

[mandareeboo]

Title: Apathy

Summary: The Guardians of the Globe are surprisingly chill about the murder of Angstrom Levy.

Excerpt:

"Dude," he said. "You look like shit." "Thanks," Mark replied without rancor. "And that's, like, saying something, man. I just got shot in the head, and I'm pretty sure I looked better than you. You know what they said to me, when they found me? They asked me if I was okay. No one's gonna ask your ass. They'll just know." Mark blinked at him tiredly. "You done?" "Never." Rex set his chin on his hand. "Whatcha need, man?"

For a friend! Yeah, I don't picture the Guardians being nearly as worried about the murder as Mark is. Sprinkle in some silly Rex being a little shit, Rudy being very confused about most things, and autistic Eve for flavor, and you've got a nice little oneshot.

Commissions Are Open! || Ko-fi

[eaterofsoupwrites]

At eighteen years old, Mark Grayson is still powerless. Everyone has given up on expecting him to ever gain them.

Alternate universe where the events of Invincible are more or less shifted by one year.

[violetswritingg]

Valkyrie

Mark Grayson x OFC!

Description: In which two superpowered teens meet and fall in love amongst blood, death, and betrayal

Rating: M (Canon typical violence, betrayal, mental health issues, survivor's guilt, abandonment issues, child neglect, angsttttt)

Want to read the other chapters?

Click here

10: Shit Show pt.2

The next few days were brutal, the training schedule for the Guardians had been dialed back due to Monster Girl’s restrictions but even then, flying to and back from the pentagon at least twice a day was taxing. With school added on top of that it was hard to balance.

Stella fell asleep in classes and struggled to focus. Doing her best to at least say hi to Mark, Willliam, and Eve in the halls before sprinting off to her next class and studying in between periods – when she wasn’t being called upon by Cecil to go save the world in one fashion or another. Having brief bright spots in her classes she shared with Mark.

It had been a long day, Stella slowly climbing through her window, and letting herself fall to the floor. Star fishing with a huff as she closed her eyes. Letting go of a long breath and letting the cold of the tile under her sink into her skin and ground her in the reality of the moment. The days previous having all smashed together into one continuous stream of jumbled training exercises, paperwork, and crimefighting.

“Stella.”

The teen superhero’s eyes shot open, the girl on her feet in an instant.

“What the hell are you doing here?” She spit at the two individuals in her living room. The man and woman causing a lump to form in her throat. Both looking at her with eyes tinged in sadness, desperation drowning out everything else.

“We need to talk to you.” The man, Ivan, spoke gesturing to the couch next to the woman, Helen. Matching eyes clashing as Stella looked between her parents.

“I think that ship has sailed.” Stella scoffed, planting herself where she was behind her kitchen island, taking off her backpack and tossing it on the counter behind her. Crossing her arms as she looked back to her parents.

“Stella, baby please-”

Stella held up a hand to the woman she used to call mom, “You don’t get to call me that. Not anymore.” Stella huffed, leaning on the island, palms prickling with the cold. “What the hell did you need to talk to me so badly about that you decided it was a good idea to break into my home?”

“This isn’t a home.” Helen spoke softly, rising from the couch and standing at her husband’s side.

“Yes. It is. It’s my home and it’s been my home since you kicked me out!” Stella snapped, taking a second, pinching the bridge of her nose as she breathed, “What. Do. You. Want.”

“We need to talk about Invincible.” Ivan cemented himself, chin rising as he matched Stella’s combative demeanor. Both facing off in a battle of wills. Neither one wanting to break eye contact first.

“What makes you think you have the right to come in here and talk to me about anything?” Stella seethed, slowly taking steps around the island.

“I am your father, we are your parents-”

“No! You’re not! You gave that title up when you kicked me out. You literally said it! You said that I wasn’t your daughter anymore if I became a hero. So, you don’t get to pull that card. Not anymore.” Stella barked, pointing an accusatory finger at the man. Teeth grinding when she felt her eyes begun to sting with tears. “It has been three years. You don’t get to suddenly come back into my life like this and talk to me about my friends like you still care. You don’t get to just show up like you didn’t do what you did.” Stella’s arm dropped back to her side as she shook her head. Watery gaze drowning in betrayal and anger.

“Invincible is not your friend, he’s a-” Ivan tried to speak but Stella just shook her head, talking over him.

“Who my friends are is none of your concern! Now leave, get out! You had no issue doing it before!”

“Would you just listen!”

“No! I told you to get out!”

“Stop it! Both of you!” Helen jumped in the middle of the pair who looked like they would tear open the other’s throats in another second. “Just, stop.” Helen laid a brief hand on her husband’s chest before turning to the almost adult girl in front of her, seeing how grown up she had become in the time she had been away from them, memories they had missed making with their flesh and blood. But also seeing the fatigue, the exhaustion plaguing her shoulders and eyes. “Please Stella, you have no idea who he is, who his father is.”

“I know who he is. He’s my friend, a good friend that cares about me. Which is more than I can say for you two. I’m not talking about this with you, get out before I contact Cecil and have you removed.” Stella planted herself, eyes hardening like stone as she lifted her chin.

“Don’t come crying to us when he hurts you.” Ivan spit out and stormed over to the front door, swinging it open and waiting for his wife. The woman just looking at Stella with a heartbroken expression, Stella just nodding to the door without emotion.

A few tears fell from Helen’s eyes as she brought a hand up to her mouth before turning on her heel and rushing to the door. Ivan just shaking his head before slamming the door shut behind him. Stella flinching at the sound.

The girl letting out the breath she had been holding unintentionally as her shoulder’s sunk. Hands catching her weight on the back of her couch as her legs shook. Her stomach turning over and over.

Stella shook her head. Pushing off the couch and walking back over to her backpack. Taking out her suit and climbing back through her window.

~~*~~

[michaelsfavgirl]

through the keyhole

Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader

Synopsis: While Michael attends to his duties as a devoted husband (taking you to pound town), the maids arrive unnoticed. Drawn by the sinful sounds echoing from your bedroom, they find themselves unable to resist eavesdropping.

Tags: smut, established-relationship (y'all are married <3), OCs, p in v, mating press, voyeurism, creampie, overstimulation, oral (fem receiving), fingering, lots of drama, legal ramifications, mike being the worlds no. 1 husband.

Word Count: 7.2k

Requested: yes/no

Author’s Note: Although I'm proud of this, the writing process for this was hell! But anyway, I need detailed reports on what y'all think about everything as compensation, thank you very much.

Links: navigation | masterlist | taglist

The noise of the curtains fluttering from the warm wind and the quiet chatter of the TV wakes you from your slumber. It's most definitely way past the acceptable time for a lie-in, probably closer to noon, but you don't care. With the way last night ended, with shared moans bouncing off the walls, no one could blame you. He had been so desperate for your touch after shutting himself in the studio for hours, hungrily taking you again and again until you couldn't string sentences together anymore.

Speaking of the incubus himself, as you open your eyes, before you can even muster up the strength to stretch your sore limbs, you're met with a tantalizing sight of Michael sprawled out on the bed next to you, absentmindedly watching the television. He's leaning against a pillow propped up against the headboard, completely nude. This isn't surprising, but what captures your attention is his soft and heavy length resting enticingly against his thigh, looking as delicious as ever. You try to ignore the slickness pooling between your thighs.

His cock is a sight to behold, thick and veiny, with a prominent ridge running along the underside. The head, peeks out from his uncut foreskin, is swollen and glistening with remnants of your previous night's activities. You  can't tear your eyes away from it, from the way it lays there just waiting for your touch.

You groan inwardly. How is he so nonchalant about this? How can he just sit there, so casually, with his massive cock on full display? Doesn't he know what effect it has on you, how it makes you crave him like nothing else?

You keep staring shamelessly, your eyes trailing every little detail. In your already fuzzy state, you don't notice Michael glancing at you, an amused smile growing on his face as he follows your half-lidded gaze.

Teasingly, he readjusts his body, making his hips thrust upwards slightly, causing his thick cock to bounce a little. You whimper quietly, but loud enough for him to hear. That sound doesn't even register in your mind until you hear him chuckle. Your eyes dart upwards to his face, feeling your cheeks grow hotter under his amused gaze.

"Enjoying the view, huh?" he teases, and you quickly turn onto your back, facing the opposite direction to avoid his stare.

"None of that," he murmurs, reaching over to cup your face and gently turn your gaze back to him. "Look at me."

And you do. Goodness gracious, how does he manage to be so gorgeous even with his curls messily framing his face? Your eyes linger on his lips as you try not to look directly into his eyes. The corner of his mouth twitches into a smirk as he gently positions your face higher, silently commanding you to meet his gaze.

His long fingers trace your cheeks as he brings your faces closer together, forehead to forehead, noses bumping. He leaves the softest of kisses on your cheeks before pressing his lips to yours. The kiss is slow and unrushed; he doesn't even bother moving his lips much, just softly keeps them pressed against yours.

"Did you sleep well, baby?" he asks after pulling away, making you unconsciously lean in for more. You nod and nuzzle your cheek deeper into his warm palm. "Yeah? I'm not too surprised," he says, trying to suppress a smirk. You had fallen asleep last night while he was cleaning you up during aftercare, that's how thoroughly he had tired you out, but it's not like you're complaining. You playfully hit his chest..

Michael's chuckle rumbles through his chest, vibrating against your skin as you lay there, feeling the warmth of his body seeping into yours. He shifts slightly, the movement drawing your eyes back down to his impressive length. He notices and smirks again, his hand moving to gently guide your chin, lifting your face to meet his gaze once more.

"I know what you’re thinking about," he begins, his voice a low, seductive purr, “know what you’re craving."

Your breath hitches at his words, the passion in his eyes making your heart flutter. His thumb strokes your cheek, and he leans in, pressing another tender but more heated kiss to your lips. The kiss deepens this time, his tongue gently parting your lips, exploring your mouth with a languid passion that leaves you breathless. When he pulls away, his eyes are dark with desire.

His hands trail from your hips to your naked pussy, cupping it in his large palm, feeling the warm skin against his hand. The sensation sends a shiver up your spine, making you gasp. His finger slips through your folds, gliding between your glistening flesh with ease. He chuckles softly, his breath warm against your ear, "Always so needy, aren't you?"

Before you can respond with an eye roll at his usual teasing, he moves on top of you, spreading your thighs wide. Your breath catches in your throat as you look up at him. He groans at the sight of your drenched pussy, marveling at it for what feels like an eternity. His eyes hungrily stare at your already pulsing clit, desperately begging for attention.

 "Do I have to fuck you every morning for you to function properly?"

Your heartbeat quickens at his words, your hips bucking towards him instinctively. He spreads your thighs even farther apart, shushing your whines with an authoritative raise of his brows. "You know what to say," he prompts, his voice low and commanding.

"...Please touch me," you murmur shyly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He decides to tease you further, enjoying the power he has over you, "What was that? I didn't quite hear you."

"Please, Michael," you beg, a little louder this time, "please fuck me."

"That's more like it," he says with a satisfied expression, taking in your already needy state before reaching over to his nightstand. He opens the top drawer and grabs a bottle of lube, squirting a generous amount onto his lengthy shaft. He strokes his cock a few times, ensuring it's well-lubricated. Without the lube, it's impossible for him to ever make love to you without unwanted pain; he's just too big. Whatever's left on his fingers he spreads it across your already glossy folds, circling your hole for longer than is necessary. 

He gives you a look, silently making sure you still want this. After you nod enthusiastically he positions himself at your tight entrance, dragging his swollen tip up and down your flesh before gently pushing in the head, watching as your cunt stretches around him. With the events of last night, it's not as difficult as it might have been otherwise. His cockhead slips past your folds with ease, and you already feel yourself clenching around him.

"Needy girl," he murmurs under his breath, his voice thick with desire.

He torturously slowly slides half of his cock into your wetness and pulls out. Repeating this endlessly until his fat length is fully swallowed by your greedy pussy, “There we go,” he breathes out at finally watching your folds stretch around his thickness. His prominent veins deliciously rub against your slick walls, eliciting breathless moans from your lips. Your eyes flutter from the stretch, the sensation overwhelming, head pressing deeper into the plush pillow.

He steals a peck from your lips and squeezes your hips. He thrusts slowly at first, hips grinding smoothly at a mellow pace, savoring every inch of you. Consequently, making you think he's going to go easy on you but when has Michael Jackson ever been predictable?

At a speed that has your eyes widening he presses you further into the bed, folding your legs closer to your shoulders, putting you in a deep mating press that leaves you breathless. Before you can utter more than his name, he drives his hips against the back of your thighs, completely filling you up. “Jesus fucking christ Michael.” you choked out.

He picks up the pace, ramming his meaty cock into your squelching pussy. Your essence creates a white ring around his base, making him groan in pleasure. This new angle allows you to feel every inch of him deeper and deeper inside you. You can't control yourself, your moans growing louder and louder. Your eyes screwed shut, mouth hanging open as filthy whines and moans escape.

As he keeps pounding you into the mattress, he looks at your face and almost cums on the spot. The sounds in the bedroom are sinful - a mix of your moans and his grunts blending together, the bed banging against the wall with every hard thrust of his hips, skin slapping rhythmically.

"Look at you, already going dumb on my cock," he awes, his voice full of adoration.

You nod while not quite sure what you’re agreeing to, his words barely registering in your mind through the haze of pleasure. His smirk widens at your response, watching your nails dig into the sheets. The room starts to fill with the smell of sex, the musky scent only turning him on more.

He continues to fuck you fast and hard, his coily pubic hair rubbing against your throbbing clit, making your hips buck, chasing more of that sweet friction. Your moans grow louder, and if his cock wasn't so good, you'd try to be quieter. But all you can think about is how good he feels inside you, stretching you, filling you completely.

Your heavenly sounds drive him wild, he loves how in the mornings your sleepiness makes you more uninhibited, your cries ringing through his ears. But still, he decides to reach over towards the remote, turning up the volume of the TV to drown out the noises. Although he's never cared about the maids or security hearing him, he knows that when you come down from your high, you'll appreciate this gesture. 

As you both lose yourselves in the throes of passion, the maids: Annie, Susie, and Diana make their way towards the entrance of the sprawling estate for their weekly cleaning duties. The warm rays of the sun cast a serene ambiance over the grounds, punctuated by the tranquil chirping of birds, blissfully masking the storm of debauchery that awaits them inside.

"You know, I still can't believe they faked everything," Susie remarks, squinting against the sunlight.

"I'm actually not that surprised, they always seemed fishy to me," Annie replies and smiles at Susie’s scrunched up face.

"Come on now, they named themselves Milli Vanilli, what kind of name is that?" Diana chimes in, adding her two cents to the conversation.

As they ascend the doorsteps and open the front door, entering the home, Annie continues her thought, "I mean, all singers lip-sync now. They're just the ones that got ca—"

Diana abruptly pinches Annie’s arm, cutting her off with a sharp sting, "Ow, what the hell—"

"Girl, shush!" Diana whispers urgently, motioning for silence.

The three maids strain their ears, their attention drawn by the unmistakable erotic sounds emanating from the bedroom—a rhythm of skin slapping against skin, accentuated by soft moans and gasps. Susie instinctively covers her mouth, freezing in place with wide eyes. None of them move a muscle as they process what they are hearing.

"Are they…?" Annie starts tentatively.

"Oh, absolutely." With wide eyes they exchange shocked glances. None of them move a muscle, unsure how to handle the unexpected discovery. Honestly how do you go about stumbling across your boss fucking his wife? 

Diana, always the boldest of the trio, begins to tiptoe toward the hallway leading to the bedroom, prompting panicked whispers from the others.

"Diana! What are you doing?" Annie hisses urgently.

Rolling her eyes, Diana smirks back at them. "As if you two aren't just as curious," she retorts, continuing her stealthy approach toward the imposing double doors that shield a scene of raw intimacy unfolding behind them. Annie and Susie exchange resigned groans but follow cautiously behind.

Pressing their ears against the wood, they strain to catch every moan and whispered utterance, their curiosity piqued despite the scandalous nature of their eavesdropping.

"This is crazy," Susie breathes out in a hushed voice.

Unaware of the maids' clandestine surveillance, Michael drives into you with unrelenting force, his powerful hips slamming with yours in a relentless rhythm. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, your senses overwhelmed by the delicious sensation of every ridge and vein of his cock stretching you to your limits. Your back arches instinctively, your slick walls gripping him tightly, sucking him deeper into your warmth.

"Greedy fucking pussy," Michael's voice groans with desire, strained with the effort of holding back. he mutters, the words laced with need. "Squeezing me so tight."

"P-please," you stutter, your voice barely a whisper amid the relentless assault of his powerful thrusts. "It’s too much."

"You can take it," he growls, his breath hot against your skin as he leans closer, his chain dangling temptingly in front of your face. "I know you can. You’re my good girl." His movements are deliberate, claiming you completely.

In a moment of pure instinct, you gently bite his shoulder, your nails digging into his skin as pleasure overtakes you. The bed beneath you rocks with each forceful rock of his hips, the headboard banging rhythmically against the wall. The murmur of the TV in the background does little to mask the crescendo of your combined moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin.

He adjusts his position slightly, angling his length to hit that sweet spot deep inside you. Your entire body trembles with the promise of release, his warm breath against your neck adding to the overwhelming sensations flooding your senses.

Meanwhile, outside the bedroom, Susie murmurs breathlessly, "Y’all hearing this shit?" Her pulse quickens with excitement. "I’ve never heard anything like it."

"That damn TV, can’t hear anything," Diana complains, pressing her ear harder against the wall in a futile attempt to drown out the sounds from within.

"They're really going at it, huh?" Annie whispers, trying to stifle a chuckle. "Didn't know Mr. Jackson had it in him." Her eyes widen with playful astonishment. "I mean, I knew he was passionate, but this...?"

"Lord forgive me for sinning," Susie quips, crossing herself dramatically as Diana giggles at her theatrics. "Oh, stop it, you."

"And half the country thinks he's a virgin," Annie adds with a sly grin. "Isn't that ironic?" Their cheeky banter fades as they're filled with arousal and a twinge of envy, listening intently to the man they've all undoubtedly fantasized about, lost in passion with his beloved behind closed doors.

Back in the bedroom, Michael pulls back to look into your eyes, his own darkened with lust. He grips your jaw and "You like that, baby? You like being fucked like this?" His words send shivers down your spine, your gummy walls instantly tighten around him.

"Yes," you gasp, your voice breaking with need. "God, yes."

"I want you to make a mess on my cock," he murmurs, his voice low and commanding, igniting a fresh wave of heat within you. "Can you do that for me, sweetheart?" You nod eagerly, breathless whimpers escaping your lips.

"Listen to how loud she's moaning," Annie murmurs from outside, her voice tinged with envy. "She must be feeling real good."

As you approach the brink of release, Michael grins devilishly, his movements becoming almost frantic to draw out the exquisite tension building between you. With every plunge of his fat cock sliding deeper and deeper, kissing your cervix, your legs tremble, your body quivering as you hurtle toward release. You cry out as your orgasm rips through you, driving you to a point of true wanton. Uninhibited, sinful moans echo through the room as you claw at the sheets.

Unable to handle your pulsing walls clinging to him he pounds you into the mattress, chasing his own high. As your body is covered in a thin sheen of sweat you try to calm down but the feeling on his bulbous tip flooding your pussy with his hot spurts of cum pushes you towards overstimulation. He sucks love marks on your neck to stifle his groans, as he feels his voluminous cum fill you up completely. He doesn't slow down, riding out your climax, driving you higher and higher until you're nothing but a trembling, incoherent mess beneath him.

Outside, the maids are spellbound, ears pressed against the door, their own breaths quickening in unison with yours.

"Oh my fucking God," Susie whispers, barely audible over the symphony of pleasure spilling from the bedroom. 

"Shh!" 

The maids, captivated, listen intently to your gasps as you climax. They wait a few more moments, taking in the heavy breathing and murmurs of endearment between you and Michael. Once the sounds start to subside, Diana gestures for them to move. “We should get out of here before they catch us.” 

“Uh huh,” Susie agrees, her voice trembling slightly. They tiptoe away from the door, retreating to an empty room down the hall, locking themselves in.

Once inside, they're all breathing heavily, heart pounding in their chests. The air is thick with anticipation, their faces flushed with arousal.

"I- uh…holy shit," Susie’s voice is hushed but tinged with excitement. "She was so loud."

"No shit," Annie replies, her own breath still coming in short bursts. "I mean, it sounded like he was breaking her in half."

“You reckon his dick is really as big as they say?” 

“Jesus Christ D, give us a moment to breathe.”

“I’m just saying, that girl’s always so quiet and sweet you know? Don’t think she’d be the type to fake her moans unless that dick is real good.'' Diana shrugs with a little grin on her face.

Susie fans herself with her hands, trying to cool down. “Yeah that's true, she’s always blushing and looking down when she talks to us, but here she is taking all that from him.”

Annie tries to be civil about all this but can’t help but add, “you think they go at it all the time?”

Diana’s grin grows wider as she nods. “You know it ain’t just a quick thing either, he probably takes his time too, making sure she’s thoroughly satisfied.”

“Lucky girl. I wouldn't mind being in her shoes,” Susie says dreamily.

Diana leans against the door, a mischievous glint in her eye. "You and me both,” she continues, “I gotta say, we have to do that again."

Annie looks at her, bewildered. "Are you crazy? We can’t just stand outside their door listening to them fuck."

Diana rolls her eyes. "Oh, come on. With how hard they were going at it, it's not far-fetched to think they'll do it again tonight. We should wait till they go back to their bedroom and listen in again."

"Absolutely not," Annie insists, crossing her arms defiantly. "That's crossing a line."

But Diana persists, knowing the curiosity and desire are mutual. "Oh, stop with this fake righteous act, y’all liked it, admit it."

Annie looks to Susie for support, but she just shrugs, clearly intrigued by the idea. Diana smirks, sensing victory. "See? Even Susie wants more." Susie, usually the shy one, surprises Annie by siding with Diana. "I mean… It was kinda hot.”

Annie huffs but doesn't entirely reject the idea. Diana’s enthusiasm is infectious, and deep down, Annie knows she’s curious too. "Fine. But how are we gonna do it without getting caught?"

Diana’s smirk grows wider. "We just gotta be smart about it. We know their routine. Once they’re back in the bedroom tonight, we’ll sneak up and listen. Simple." 

Annie finally relents, though still cautious. "If we get caught, it’s on you, D."

Diana grins, clearly enjoying the thrill. "Trust me, it'll be worth it." The three of them continue to hash out their plot, excitement hanging thick in the air.

The trio finally compose themselves after their illicit eavesdropping and gossip session, deciding it's time to actually get to work. They set about their cleaning tasks, though the air between them crackles with the shared secret. Every now and then, one of them breaks the silence with a hushed comment or a knowing glance, the earlier events still fresh in their minds.

As they tidy the living room, the sound of a door opening draws their attention. Michael and you emerge from the bedroom, your body language relaxed and content, a stark contrast to the intense passion that had filled the room earlier. Michael's arm drapes protectively around your waist as he guides you towards the kitchen, his touch gentle and reassuring.

The maids exchange glances, curiosity piqued once more. "Look at them," Susie whispers, her voice barely above a breath. "She looks so satisfied."

Annie, ever the observant one, nods and without looking up continues to do her job. "Bet she is.”

Diana snickers. "Yeah, she looks fucked out, she was moaning so loud. Damn near broke my eardrums." if they hadn't heard your desperate pleas and whimpers they’d definitely find it hard to question your innocence.

From their vantage point in the living room, they peek into the kitchen. You sit down heavily on one of the chairs, your body spent and exhausted, fingers lazily tracing random patterns on the marble counter as you lean your head on your arm . Michael kisses the top of your head and moves with practiced ease, starting to prepare a quick meal for you. His movements are efficient yet tender, his focus solely on making sure you're taken care of.

As you absentmindedly glance around, your eyes meet Susie's. You smile gently and give her a small wave. For a moment, there's a flash of recognition in her widened eyes before she quickly returns the greeting with a shy nod. She turns back to Annie and Diana, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"She saw me," Susie whispers, her voice a mixture of panic and excitement. "She smiled and waved."

Diana snorts. "Probably too blissed out to care. Look at her. She’s got that post-fuck glow."

Annie rolls her eyes, but a small smile plays on her lips. "You two are incorrigible. But yeah, she does look pretty content."

The trio continues their cleaning, though their attention frequently strays back to the kitchen. They can't help but watch as Michael moves about, his focus unwavering as he prepares something for you. Every now and then, he glances your way, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

"He’s so attentive," Annie murmurs, almost to herself. "I mean, he just spent all that time… you know… and now he’s making sure she’s okay. That’s so sweet."

Diana smirks. "Yeah, he’s definitely got enough left in him for round two tonight. I can tell.” 

Susie bites her lip, clearly torn between embarrassment and curiosity. "I just hope we don't get caught."

As they continue to clean, their whispers and giggles fill the room, the earlier intensity of their task somewhat forgotten in light of their newfound entertainment. They dust the same shelves over and over again just because the view of the kitchen is by far the best from that specific angle. The sight of you and Michael in the kitchen, a picture of post-coital domesticity, only fuels their fascination.

Michael, sensing your exhaustion, walks over to you with a plate of food. "Here you go, sweetheart," he says softly, placing the plate in front of you. "You need to eat something."

You smile up at him, your gratitude evident in your eyes. He smiles and sits down next to you, watching you with adoring eyes.

The maids watch this exchange with keen interest. "He’s so good to her," Susie whispers, a note of envy in her voice.

Diana rolls her eyes playfully. "Of course he is. You heard how he was talking to her. ‘You’re my good girl,’" she mimics, her voice dripping with mock lust. "He’s got her wrapped around his finger."

Annie, who has been silent for a while, finally speaks up. "You know, maybe we shouldn’t be talking about them like this. It’s kind of… invasive."

Diana rolls her eyes. "Oh my god, Annie. Live a little. They’re not gonna find out. Besides, it’s not like we’re hurting anyone."

They continue their tasks, though their eyes frequently stray back to the kitchen. The atmosphere is charged with a mix of lingering arousal and the thrill of having witnessed something so private. As they finish up in the living room and move to another part of the house, they can’t help but continue their whispered conversation. "So, we’re still following through with the plan?" Susie asks, her voice tinged with anticipation.

Diana grins. "mhm."

Annie shakes her head, though a small smile plays at her lips. "You two are crazy. But fine. Just this once more, we’re not doing it again."

The trio shares a conspiratorial laugh, their bond strengthened by their shared secret. As they go about their tasks, their minds are already anticipating the evening, eager to once again be a part of the passionate world they had stumbled upon.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, you finish your meal, your energy slowly returning. Michael sits next to you, his hand resting on your thigh, a silent reassurance of his presence.

You lean into him, your head resting on his shoulder. "Thank you," you murmur, your voice soft.

He presses a kiss to your temple. "Anything for you, baby. You know that."

As the day wears on, You both spend the day lounging around the house, basking in the simplicity of each other's company. The day has been a rare gift of leisure, a precious break from Michael's usually hectic schedule. The sun sets lazily, casting a warm glow over everything.

The trio finds themselves looking forward to the evening, their curiosity and desire rekindled. The thrill of the forbidden being too intoxicating to resist.

As the day winds down and evening settles in, the maids finish their duties and prepare to leave. Michael politely, walks them to the door. "Goodnight, ladies," he says with a charming smile.

"Goodnight, Mr. Jackson," they reply, trying to keep their voices steady. They share a quick glance, the events of the day still fresh in their minds, and attempt to leave casually. As the door shuts behind them they walk down the path they’d usually take to return home but they make a turn to the right, making their way towards the back of the house.

You are already in bed, lounging in a tank top and panties, the warm weather prompting you to kick the covers off playfully. The soft light of the setting sun filters through the curtains, casting a golden hue over the room.

Michael steps into the bedroom, locking the door behind him, his gaze finding you instantly. You turn your head towards him and smile, your hand constantly reaching towards his direction, the sight of him filling you with warmth. He shakes his head teasingly as he pulls the covers back onto the bed.

"You always do this," he shakes his head, his voice filled with affection.

You watch him intently as he undresses, his movements slow and deliberate. He strips down to his boxers, revealing his toned physique, and you can’t help but feel a surge of desire. Your eyes are hungry, taking in every inch of his body which is draped in golden sun rays.

He slides into bed next to you, his presence comforting. He gently coos, "Are you feeling hot, baby?" His hand finds your hip, kneading it softly, feeling the soft, warm skin under his palm.

You nod, your eyes half-lidded with desire and mischief. Taking his hand, you guide it down between your legs, pressing his fingers harder against your clothed clit. "I am," you murmur, your voice barely a whisper, signaling where exactly you’re feeling hot.

He chuckles, a low, knowing sound. "You're insatiable," he teases, his fingers starting to move in slow, tantalizing circles. The fabric unsurprisingly dampening in an instant.

Your eyes flutter from the slight pressure and you spread your legs wider, inviting him in. "You love it," you counter with a small smile.

He smirks and admits, moving between your spread thighs, his fingers hooking under your panties and slowly pulling them off. He casually lets them fall on the floor as his eyes are immediately glued to your weeping cunt, already salivating at the view.

Meanwhile, in the backyard, the maids have been waiting, the anticipation building. Diana, ever the ringleader, whispers, "It’s time." They tiptoe towards your patio which is connected to your bedroom. They crouch down next to the glass doors, holding their breath as they try to peer inside without making their presence known. The house is quiet, the only sounds coming from within the intimate space you and Michael share. They inch closer, their breaths shallow and hearts pounding, the thrill of voyeurism electrifying their senses.

Inside the bedroom, the atmosphere is intimate and calm compared to the morning's intensity. Michael lays on his front, his face inches from your glistening pussy, still leaking with his cum from earlier. He bites his lip at the sight, the raw desire in his eyes making you shiver with anticipation.

He gently slides his middle finger into your hole, pushing his cum deeper inside you. "Look at you, so full of me," he murmurs, his voice low and sultry. "Such a good girl, taking everything I give you."

You moan softly, the sensation of his finger inside you making your body hum with pleasure. He parts your glossy folds with his fingers, exposing your sensitive clit. Leaning in, he suckles on the bud, rolling it in his mouth with expert precision.

Peering through the glass, their eyes widen as they take in the sight before them. Michael is between your legs, his face buried in your pussy, his tongue working you with a slow, deliberate rhythm. Your eyes are shut tight, fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as he devours you. The soft glow from the bedside lamp casts a warm light over the scene, highlighting every intimate detail.

"God, seeing it is so much better than just listening," Susie whispers, her voice a mix of awe and arousal.

They press against each other, jostling quietly for the best view. Michael's focus is entirely on you, his eyes closed as he savors your taste, his tongue flicking over your clit with expert precision. The way he worships your body is mesmerizing, each movement filled with intent and passion.

Suddenly, Michael pulls away with a wet pop, your juices glistening on his lips and chin. You whine at the loss of contact, your body trembling with need. "Shh, baby," he soothes, replacing his tongue with his thumb, pressing it against your swollen clit and rubbing gentle circles.

The maids hold their breath, their eyes glued to the scene. Michael prods two fingers against your entrance, teasing you before slowly sliding them in. He breathes in deeply, savoring your scent as his fingers begin to scissor inside you, stretching your tight walls. His wedding band glistens, drenched in your slick, as he pumps his fingers in and out with a steady rhythm, the cold metal adding to the pleasure.

Susie, filled with envy and arousal, leans closer to Annie. "I've never seen a man eat pussy this good," she whispers, her voice tinged with longing. 

"He definitely knows where the clit is." Annie giggles and adds.

Diana, unable to contain her excitement, groans softly. "When is he going to take out his cock and fuck her?" she hisses, her eyes locked on the sight of Michael's fingers disappearing inside you.

Annie glares at her. "Oh, I'm sorry, is watching this not enough for you?" she snaps quietly.

Michael's fingers work their magic, the squelching noises filling the room as you whimper and buck your hips against his skilled hands. He watches you intently, his eyes dark with lust, enjoying the way you respond to his touch. "You're so beautiful like this," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "My girl."

Your whimpers turn into moans, your body arching off the bed as he brings you closer to the edge. "Michael, please," you beg, your voice a breathy whisper.

He leans in, his breath hot against your skin, leaving hickeys along your inner thighs. "What is it, baby?" he asks, his thumb pressing harder against your clit.

"Wanna cum," you gasp, your hands gripping the sheets tightly.

He smirks, his fingers curling inside you to hit that sweet spot. "Then come for me, sweet girl," he whispers, his voice a low growl.

The maids watch in rapt attention, their own bodies reacting to the scene before them. Susie's cheeks are flushed, her breath quickening. "I can't believe we're actually seeing it this time," she whispers, her voice trembling with excitement.

"Look at how he handles her. It's like he knows exactly what she needs." Annie breathes, her eyes wide with awe.

Diana, her frustration mounting, shifts restlessly. "I want to see him fuck her," she insists, her voice a low whine. "Wanna see what his cock looks like."

Annie shoots her a sharp look. "Just be patient," she snaps. "Enjoy what we're seeing now."

Inside the room, Michael's fingers move faster, his thumb rubbing tight circles on your clit. Your moans grow louder, your body trembling with the intensity of your impending orgasm. "I- I’m close" you cry out, your voice breaking with need.

"There there," he murmurs, his fingers never faltering. "Let go for me. Cum all over my fingers."

With a final flick of his tongue and a deep thrust of his fingers, you shatter. Your orgasm crashes over you, your body convulsing with pleasure. Michael holds you through it, his mouth and fingers never ceasing their movements, prolonging your release until you are spent and trembling.

The maids are transfixed, their own arousal palpable. "y’all…" Susie whispers, her voice filled with need. "I didn't even know it was possible to cum that hard just from fingers."

Annie nods, her eyes still fixed on the scene before her. "He’s Michael Jackson, what did you expect," she murmurs. 

Diana, her eyes dark with lust, can barely contain herself. "I want to see more," she insists, her voice a desperate whisper.

As you come down from your high, panting, Michael gently withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his lips. "You taste so good," he purrs, his eyes locked on yours. You stretch weakly, your body still trembling. Michael licks his drenched fingers, savoring your taste as his eyes lock onto yours with a smoldering intensity. He leans in to give your clit a soft, lingering kiss, a gesture of tenderness. 

As he moves off the bed to take off his boxers, you whimper from the loss of contact, your body still trembling from the recent orgasm. You always become so clingy afterward, seeking his warmth and touch even if it's scorching hot outside.

“I’m right here, baby,” he coos gently, his voice soothing as he pulls down his boxers, freeing his throbbing cock. The maids, hidden just outside the glass doors, gasp in unison at the sight. Michael’s heavy shaft sways with his every move, a sight both impressive and intimidating.

“Goodness gracious, that thing is massive,” Diana whispers, her eyes wide with arousal.

The others nod, their mouths hanging open in shock. “No wonder she always looks so happy,” Susie murmurs. “It’s hard not to when your man’s packing like that.”

Annie notices Diana’s hazy expression, her eyes glued to Michael’s meaty cock as she licks her lips. Annie nudges her sharply. “Stop drooling, Diana.”

Susie giggles, trying to stifle the sound. “Yeah, you look like you just came.”

Diana shoots them a side-eye, irritated but unable to tear her gaze away from Michael as he strokes his meaty shaft, preparing himself. She unconsciously leans forward, hands pressing against the glass doors, her desire overriding her sense of caution. The door creaks in the silent room, a loud and unmistakable sound.

Annie, eyes wide with realization, hisses urgently, “Wait, no!”

But it’s too late. Packed together like sardines, when Diana pushes forward, the glass doors swing open, and they all tumble into the room with a loud, resounding thud. The sudden intrusion shatters the intimate atmosphere, and for a moment, time seems to freeze.

You gasp in horror, your eyes wide as you scramble to cover yourself. Michael’s head snaps around, his expression shifting from surprise to fury as he sees the maids he had just bid goodnight to, now sprawled awkwardly on the floor. They remain frozen, their eyes wide with horror at having been caught.

“Fuck,” Annie whispers, the word barely audible but carrying the weight of their collective dread.

Michael’s eyes blaze with anger, but his first instinct is to protect you. He immediately grabs the covers and drapes them over your body, shielding you from their prying eyes. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, whispering, “Stay here.”

You try to argue, your voice trembling, “But Michael-”

He cuts you off with a commanding look, one you don’t often see, filled with authority and protectiveness. “I said stay,” he repeats firmly.

Nodding obediently, you clutch the sheets closer to your face, your heart pounding in your chest. Michael turns halfway, careful not to expose himself completely, and fixes the maids with a venomously calm stare.

“Wait in my office,” he orders, his tone cold and tolerating no argument.

The trio stares dumbly for a few seconds, processing his words before they scramble to their feet, tripping over themselves in their haste to leave. Broken apologies tumble from their lips as they run out of the room, their faces flushed with shame and embarrassment.

Once they’re gone, Michael turns back to you, his expression softening. “Are you okay?” he asks gently, his hands cupping your face.

You nod, though your heart is still racing. “I guess…I'm just shocked.”

“I’ll take care of this,” he promises, his voice filled with a protective resolve. He kisses your forehead again, then stands, pulling on his discarded boxers and trousers. “Stay here and try to relax, okay?”

You nod again, watching him as he leaves the room, your anxiety mixing with a strange sense of reassurance at his presence.

Michael leaves you in the bedroom, his heart heavy with both fury and a fierce protectiveness. As he walks down the hallway, the moonlight filters through the windows, casting long shadows and illuminating his path. Each step he takes echoes softly against the wooden floor, the sound mingling with the seething rage that burns within him. His fists clench and unclench at his sides, every muscle in his body taut with anger.

In the office, the maids are huddled together, in a state of panic, their faces filled with dread. They had thought themselves clever, sneaking around to watch, but now the reality of their actions is sinking in.

“Oh my god, we’re so screwed,” Susie whispers, wringing her hands nervously.

Annie turns to Diana. "This was all your idea!" she hisses, her voice trembling with fear.

Diana glares back, her own nerves frayed. "Oh, don't you dare put this all on me! You wanted this as much as I did!"

Susie, caught in the middle, raises her hands in a futile attempt to calm them. "Guys, please, this isn’t the time. We need to stick together."

The door swings open, and they all jump, turning to see Michael standing in the doorway, his expression a mask of controlled fury. He steps into the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click that feels like the final nail in their coffin.

“Explain yourselves,” he demands, his voice low and dangerous.

The maids exchange panicked glances, none of them wanting to be the first to speak. Finally, Annie steps forward, her voice trembling. “We... we’re so sorry, Mr. Jackson. We didn’t mean to intrude. We just...”

“Just what?” he snaps, his patience fraying. 

Susie whispers, her voice barely audible, "We were just curious..."

Michael raises his brows, his eyes narrowing. "Curious? Curious?!”  he repeats, louder this time. The word hangs in the air, heavy with disdain.

He loses his cool for a moment, his voice rising as he yells, "Are you out of your fucking minds?!"

The maids shudder, their fear palpable. They are totally fucked, and they know it. “We’re truly so sorry,” Annie stammers, her voice breaking. “We never meant for this to happen.”

Michael’s expression remains hard, his eyes cold as ice. “You think an apology is enough? You think saying sorry will fix this? You’ve breached a level of trust that’s hard to come back from.” Michael’s eyes bore into each of them, his disappointment palpable.

Michael takes a deep breath, trying to rein in his temper. “What gave you the brilliant idea to spy on us?”

There’s a heavy silence as none of them dare to speak. Michael’s patience wears thin. “I’m not going to repeat my question.”

Silence fills the room as the maids exchange terrified glances. Finally, Diana stutters, "We... we eavesdropped earlier this morning." Susie starts to tear up silently, her guilt and fear overwhelming her.

Michael breathes out heavily, the sound like a hiss through clenched teeth. "Sit," he commands, his tone brooking no argument.

They scramble to comply, their hands shaking as they take their seats. Michael retrieves a folder from the desk drawer, pulling out several documents and laying one in front of each of them with a pen.

"Sign," he says, the word clipped and devoid of any warmth.

Annie furrows her brows as she reads the document. It's a non-disclosure agreement. It hits her like a punch to the gut: he's making them sign NDAs to ensure they don't blabber about this to anyone, especially the press. Without reading through it, they all sign. Their hands shake so much that their signatures are barely legible. 

Michael retrieves the signed documents, his eyes never leaving theirs. He stares at them, his gaze hard and unforgiving. "Consider yourselves fired," he says, each word delivered with cutting precision.

The maids’ faces pale further, the reality of their actions hitting them like a sledgehammer. 

They swallow hard, nodding silently. Without needing further prompting, they rise from their seats and make their way out of the office, their footsteps heavy with the weight of their actions. As they exit the estate, the night air feels colder. As they walk down the long driveway and the gravity of their situation sinks in.

As they reach the gates, they look back at Neverland ranch one last time, the grandeur and beauty now a stark contrast to their current despair. They exit, their steps heavy and their minds filled with regret.

© michaelsfavgirl 2024

Taglist: @theladyinmoscow @yeriminist @yeaiamme2 @helloaugustmoon @cinnamoncunt @theladyofmylife @minekarina @kionaaa @theskinniestjackson-denny @leociinta @graciegizmo3184 @theasexual-jackson @mrsmikaelsxn @fallinlovewithevil @armasbw @b3rk1ey @sirusxx @maybe7tommorow @falllovesomemichealjackson @moonuoi @iconsmjj

[phantomstatistician]

Fandom: Invincible

Sample Size: 245 stories

Source: AO3

[astro-nomaly]

I mean. Usually the actual vibe is “Insane Motherfucker Who Hasn’t Found Out About His God Complex” but whatever

[thebrainrotsreal]

Invincible Fic Recs

Also bored as hell so here's Invincible fic recommendations because I can, in no particular order. This fandom's weirdly small (from what I can see) but there are people making fics and I will treasure and cherish them until the sun explodes. Thank you fanfic writers, I love you fanfic writers, doing incredible work, fanfic writers <3 Maybe you've read all these already, or hopefully you can find a fic to adore! TBH a lot of Mark-centic fics because I am biased <3 Feel free to add on!!!

 something better, pushed right back by umanta | Word Count: 13k | Tags to Note: PTSD, Homophobia, Racism, Child Abuse | Oneshot

Being invincible has less to do with the body and more to do with the soul. Mark's friends use the power of teenage shenanigans to help him find his feet again.

Notes: Literally one of my fav Invincible fics of all time. They're just teens and I love all of them so much.

me and myself by avisisisisisissss (joyfuldreamlandcheesecake) | Word Count: 4.6k | Tags to Note: AU, Torture, Evil Mark, Dimensional Travel | WIP!

Mark is dealing with Angstrom's death and the stains of blood on his hands. Meanwhile, Mark has been captured by Cecil, who is torturing him to get him to answer to him. ...It's complicated. Or, when his evil version from another universe ends up in this dimension, Mark starts to feel like someone threw gasoline in his dumpster fire of a life.

Notes: Me biased? Pshhh, not at all. But AU based on a post of mine, please read it, it's really incredible already :)

in the end, you're all i have by orphan_account | Word Count: 1.4k | Tags to Note: Post-Season 1, Hugging, Emotional Hurt/Comfort | Oneshot

Amber’s incredulous look is only brief before she reaches over and grabs the book, opening it to the last page that she was reading. Mark’s eyes are fluttering before she even makes it through the first page; his body goes slack against her, breathing lulls, attention wavers. But she keeps reading the words on the pages, brushing her hand through his hair until she hears soft snores whistling through his nostrils and he finally succumbs to his exhaustion.

Notes: I love Amber and Mark and this is such so soft and good. Truly lovely.

Architect of Your Own Demise by Marzi | Word count: 7k | Tags to Note: AU, Role Reversal, Canon levels of violence, | Oneshot

A lot of his dad's stories were about a beautiful wizard saving a prince from a tall, lonely tower. His dad had a whole series of adventures they went on once the prince was rescued. Though he still seemed to get into plenty of trouble, the wizard always helped him escape. Finding out the stories were true had been thrilling. His mother did save his father when they first met, but she hadn't used spells. She was an alien. She was a superhero. And one day, Mark would be too.

Notes: In all honesty, Marzi writes so many epic Invincible fics, it's had not to list them all, please check them out if you somehow havent' already??? I am weak for Role Swaps though and this is does it so well.

Cold Snap by Marzi (series) | Word Count: 11.9k total | Tags to Note: what if debbie was also allowed to make bad choices, possession, potentially disturbing mutilation based impulses | WIP!

The edge of her mouth twitched again, like it was caught on some hook. She was smiling. She was laughing at him. That wasn't his wife. He moved forward, hand outstretched and on her throat. He had her pinned against the counter before he finished blinking. "What are you?" She leaned into him, unconcerned with the threat against her. It also clearly didn’t care about hiding anymore. "Think you have time to find out?"

Notes: Another Marzi fic because I love Debbie. POSSESSED DEBBIE LIKE HELLO??? I had to share.

Spill the tea boy by mandaree1 | Word Count: 1k | Tags to Note: Set After "It's Been A While", | Oneshot

Mark is visited by friends on Thraxa.

Notes: Crying sobbing begging for more GoG & Mark interactions like these. They heal me ok, thank you, op.

all the things left behind by cadastre | Word Count: 28K | Tags to Note: AU, Captivity, Forced Cohabitation, Aftermath of Torture, Survivor's Guilt, Nolan Grayson's A+ Parenting | WIP!

Mark is invincible. When the world ends, that becomes William's problem.

Notes: Omg fucked up Mark and William interactions??? HELLO? Yes PLEASE? No one is having a good time <3 I haven't seen a fic quite like this so please read!

from a body that used to be yours by thislittlebagofdreams | Word Count: 30K | Tags to Note: Angst, Self Hatred, Alien Biology, Binge Eating, | WIP!

After his dad reveals the truth, Mark returns home to find half the silverware missing. Or: After his dad reveals the truth, Mark reminds his mom too much of his dad.

Notes: I haven't seen an alien bio fic either for this fandom and this is STELLAR! I love the change that Viltramites can't cry, that's such a epic idea???

All Alone Now by YingYangKay | Word Count: 2k | Tags to Note: Solitary Confinement, Dissociation, | Oneshot

Imprisoned and alone, (Evil) Mark has plenty of time to self-reflect and think about his life choices.

Notes: ILY EVIL MARK! I just adore his POV as he reflects, entrapped, and alone. Angst my beloved.

Again, feel free to add on! :D I hope someone finds a new fic to read and adore!!!

[influenzalake]

yandere Mark Grayson hcs

tw warning ofc

- Yan Mark is ENTITLED as hell 

- he's the ONLY SON of the Viltrumite conquerer, Omni-Man 

- what he wants, he gets 

- so when he fantasizes his "perfect" life with you, abandon all hope 

- forget your future, forget your past, forget your entire life. 

- you need to be Mark's idea of "perfect" or you can forget your life 

- he doesn't want to have to do that... but he holds this threat over your head all the time, so get used to it 

- he blames you for not seeing his "vision"

- he blames you for not trusting him with the fate of the world and for you 

- he has everybody's best interest at heart, truly! that's why he needs to commit mass genocide to weed out the Bad Ones 

- then he can finally enjoy a world good enough for you and him. together.

- and some little ones

- not now of course, you cant make an omelette without breaking a few protestors' craniums after all

- you'll both get there eventually, but until then you will sit sweetly on your throne beside him

- you're going to be a part of this and you'll love it! 

[shitposts927383828]

LISTEN UP PEOPLE!

I WANT MORE INVINCIBLE STUFF! I WANT EVIL VILTRUMIT MARK GRAYSON! EVEN MORE yandere mark Grayson!

I want EVIL mark Grayson fanfiction!!! Is that too much to ask for?

[mishibashimori]

Two Of Us || Cecil Stedman x Reader || Chapter 5

Synopsis: You are an alien who crash landed onto Earth. You have no name, and no more home to go back to. The Guardians of the Globe have rescued you and brought you to get intensive care under the great Cecil Stedman. In helping out your new home, Earth, will you develop a relationship with the coldest man you know?

General Info: AFAB Gender Neutral Reader, Cecil is Younger in the Beginning and it Will Lead to Current Events, Reader is a Bubbly Optimist, Reader Description is Intentionally Vague so You can Imagine the Alien Species They Are However You’d Like

TW: Verbal and Physical Past Abuse, Failed Pregnancy Mentions, Depression, Self Depreciation, Eventual Sexual Content.

—————————

It had been a few days since you and Cecil had your drunken night. It wasn’t intentional that you hadn’t spoken since then, at least not on your end, but it grew worrisome in your mind. You learned Cecil wasn’t the most fluent in conveying— well, anything he was thinking, in the six months you’ve known him. Whether he did it on purpose or not you really hadn’t figured out yet. But that night was the most genuine you’d ever seen him. You’d be lying if you said it hadn’t been on your mind, and that it definitely did not give you a giddy feeling. Yet it seemed that something changed that night as well, and not for the better. Regardless, you decided to settle your troublesome torrent of thoughts this morning.

After walking around for a bit longer than you’d like to admit, you finally found the cafeteria in this maze of a place and grabbed a dozen donuts. You weren’t entirely sure what flavor he liked- they all seemed so good- so you just got as much as you could. On your wander you had even stopped by to check on Alana. She was still unconscious but doing much better after your help. Holly had been there, too. After giving her your regards, you set off again.

Finally, you spotted Cecil. It had taken a few questions to lingering agents in the halls about his whereabouts, but you found him. He was standing in the middle of a room full of people on computers, his hands in his pockets and his posture tall, commanding. His back was turned to you as he busily gave orders, so you decided to hang back and wait. Taking a seat, you set the box of donuts on the table in front of you and turned to an agent busily typing away.

“Hello.” You greeted, giving a smile.

The agent, a young man of maybe nineteen, gave a startled noise and turned to you for a brief moment. “Oh, hello. Um, did you need something?”

“Not particularly,” you cocked your head, “just wanted to say hello.”

The man gave you an inquisitive look behind his sunglasses but responded politely. “Oh, well, my name is Donald. Nice to meet you.”

Before you could respond, you sensed a presence walking up to your other side. Turning, you were met with the steely blue eyes of Cecil. Your happy expression immediately faltered at the look on his face.

“Can I talk to you in private?” He asked lowly, throwing a warning glance at Donald. Immediately taking the hint, Donald spun back around and busied himself once more.

“Of course.” You grabbed the box of donuts and followed Cecil out of the room. An uncomfortable squirm in your stomach grew as he took you a good few feet away from the door and turned to face you.

“I can’t be irresponsible anymore,” he started, emotion void in his voice. “From now on, you and I will remain professional. We aren't friends, and we don’t have a relationship other than being colleagues.” The expression on your face must’ve been absolutely miserable, because Cecil’s own face shifted quickly to something painful for a brief moment before he steeled himself again.

“Why?” You asked, your voice wavering a bit.

Cecil took a deep breath before responding. “This job is dangerous, and time consuming. I can’t let emotions cloud my judgment on anything. I got too involved with you.” There was a long silence that followed his words as you took them in. Cecil drew himself up, seemingly steadfast in his belief as he squared his shoulders. You bowed your head.

“I see.” Without further prompting, you gently set the box of donuts into his hands and gave a small nod. Grief grew like gnarled vines in your chest, making your throat tight. It took everything in you to choke out words. “Thank you for all you’ve done. I’ll leave you be.”

Cecil looked almost shocked, as if he didn’t expect you to react so amiably, though he recovered quickly. “I hope you understand that this is for the best.” He said softly. His tone and face were as cold and emotionless as ever, almost how it was when you had first met him. You just simply walked away, numbly gazing at the floor. Something in you was screaming to look back, but you fought it. Cecil had been transparent and firm on his word, there was no reason to challenge him.

It wasn’t clear where you were planning to go, so you just resided yourself to wander once more around the halls of the GDA. Eventually your feet led you to the hospital wing of the building. Mustering up what little optimism was left in you today, you made your way to Alana’s room. Upon entering you found Holly sat beside your friend, gently stroking her forehead. “Hey Holly.”

Holly jerked her head up, obviously startled by your sudden presence. “Oh, it’s just you.” She sounded relieved. “Hello.” She gestured to a chair on the opposite side of Alana’s hospital bed where you took a seat. “How’re you this morning? Your body feeling better?”

“My body?” You echoed, momentarily confused. Realization slowly crept back to you. How could you have forgotten the accident that landed you here in the first place? Your mind was really roaming away from you. “Oh, yes. It’s doing much better. I feel a lot stronger.”

Holly gazed at you for a while in silence. “How’s your mind? You seem out of it.”

“I’m okay.” You responded almost immediately. The events were still pretty fresh in your mind, having happened only a short time ago. Your brain was still reeling from the emotions you felt. It would be hard to put them into words.

“You can talk to me, if you’d want to.” Holly prompted gently.

Your eyes lingered on Alana, still unconscious in her hospital bed. “You have more than enough to deal with at the moment. I’ll be okay.” There was another long lapse into silence as you both sat. The beeping and whir of medical machines was the only noise, and you slowly relaxed into your chair at the rhythmic sound. Letting your mind wander, your gaze traveled around the room in an almost dazed state until it somehow landed on your wrist. The teleportation device was still strapped onto it. “Hey Holly, how long have you known Cecil?”

“Ah,” she gave a slight chuckle, “so that’s what’s wrong.”

A flush of embarrassment hit your cheeks, “what does that mean?” The words came out a little louder than you meant them to.

“We could all see you two getting close. He seems to care for you a great deal. And you always had that love-struck puppy look in your eyes.” She gazed down at Alana fondly, as if remembering something. “I look at Alana the same way.” Then she turned to you, a bit more of a somber expression on her face. “But he’s a closed off man. You have to be, if you do what he does. I can only guess he’s made that apparent to you.”

“He has.” You said meekly. “I respect his decision, however much I’d like it to be different.”

“Cecil has a lot of responsibility. He protects a great many people. To be that much of an omniscient force, you can’t let your judgment get clouded.” As Holly spoke, you bowed your head. You knew what she was saying was true, but it didn’t make it hurt less. “But,” she began again, “when you care for someone, it doesn’t just go away. He may not have a choice whether to let you go or not.”

You looked at her, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

Holly sat up straight, her eyes clear and intense. Her words were passionate as she spoke. “The Guardians of the Globe have a similar responsibility in protecting the city. We are in constant danger.” She gave a sad glance towards Alana. “When I fell in love with Alana, I tried my best to ignore it. Situations like this are unpredictable. Any one of us could die any day.” She looked back to you, now holding your gaze steadily. “But I realized that I was going to love her either way. If we were together, or if we decided to distance ourselves, it didn’t matter. I would rather fight alongside her knowing that we shared memories and love, than to have her die and not of shared anything.”

“That’s beautiful.” You responded, smiling softly.

Holly wiped a stray tear from her eye before continuing, “I know it might be a little too early for love between you and Cecil. But if you want your relationship to grow, and he does as well, there’s nothing that should stop you.” She reached her hand towards you, and you grasped it gently. “Give him time. He’s a stuffy government agent with a lot on his mind. Let him come to terms with whatever he may be feeling. Your emotions should be taken into account too. I know it’s hard but, well, you didn’t exactly choose the easiest man to fall for.”

You gave a laugh at that, and Holly smiled at you. “Thank you. I’ll think on it.” You rose to your feet. “Will you be alright here on your own? I could grab you something to eat if you’d like.”

“I’ll be alright.” Holly responded, giving your hand a squeeze before letting go. “Go get your mind off of things.”

With a goodbye you headed off, your optimism reignited. Perhaps it wasn’t all too bad. You didn’t plan on stomping on Cecil’s wishes, but you wanted to give one last chance to rekindle your relationship. Feeling invigorated, you decided to stop by the Guardian’s training grounds.

Rounding up on the entrance, you sprinted through, feeling your muscles work wonderfully under your skin. After being confined in the hospital for so long, it felt good to stretch your endurance. You hadn’t had the chance to in a while. The training grounds opened into a wide, long space of pure white. A few pieces of exercise equipment were lined up neatly against the walls, but for the most part it was an empty room with an opportunity to test your abilities.

Like a firecracker you whistled through the perimeter of the room, occasionally taking bounds and leaps for fun. Your heart was pumping, the adrenaline of joy spurring you on. It wasn’t until you saw Josef and Immortal standing at the entrance that you screeched to a halt. The pair exchanged looks with each other along with money.

“What’s that about?” You panted, gesturing towards the twenty dollar bill in Josef’s hand.

“We made a bet that your species would get ‘zoomies’ when you were happy.” Immortal replied, an amused expression on his face.

“It’s more common than you think. Even I get them.” Josef added, shoving the money in his pocket.

“You’re the Red Rush, you always have them.” Immortal jeered, playfully jabbing Josef with his elbow. He turned his attention back to you. “So, what’s got you so excited?”

“Did Cecil finally confess his feelings for you, zabavnaya veshch’?” Josef waggled his eyebrows at you. You gave him a sour expression, and he immediately reeled back. “What, really? Was only a joke.”

“No, not exactly,” you responded, still out of breath, “it’s complicated.”

Immortal leaned back, a thoughtful look on his face. “We knew you two were getting close but— Cecil? Really? That man has feelings?” He gave a hearty laugh. “It’s not that we think you’re hard to like but Cecil is- well, Cecil. We only joked about romance between you two. Didn’t think it was actually real.”

“Well I don’t know, like I said, it's complicated.” You gave him an exasperated sigh.

“What are you guys, high schoolers?” A new voice piped up behind the pair of superheros. You lean up on your tiptoes, peering over their heads to see Darkwing strolling up. “Gossiping about crushes.”

“You’re just mad because you can’t get a boyfriend.” Josef chided him as he walked by. “Adults are allowed to indulge in romance gossip every now and then. Not everyone has to brood.” The only response he got from Darkwing was an annoyed snort.

Laughter broke out down the hall as a few more of the Guardians walked up. Samson was at the head of it. “Never argue with Josef, Darkwing, you know that.” As the rest of the Guardians behind him dispersed into the room, he rounded up to your side with an excited look. “Are we gossiping?”

You laughed and nudged him playfully before looking around, confused. “What are you all doing here?”

“It’s training day.” Immortal put in, breaking away from your group and starting to stretch. “Wanna join?”

“Yeah, we can show you some cool moves from the big leagues.” Samson struck a few comically manly poses, which earned a chuckle from you.

“That sounds—“ you began to say, before you were cut off.

“No.” You turned to meet Cecil’s steely face. His long, blond hair was tussled, and you hadn’t noticed it this morning but he looked a mess. Purple bags clung under his eyes, and his tie was loose and wrinkled.

You gave a confused look. “Why not?”

“These are professionally trained superheroes under my jurisdiction. You could get seriously hurt.”

“Well,” you start, crossing your arms and holding yourself up straight, “I have to make a decision, right? Of what I want to do on Earth, by the end of the year.”

Cecil’s eyes narrowed. “…yes.”

“And one of those decisions was joining the Guardians of the Globe.” You continued. “Let me see if I can keep up. I don’t think I’m as fragile as you think.”

He regarded you with a look of absolute annoyance, but what you said was true. With obvious reluctance he gave you a nod. “Fine. Just be careful.”

Josef gave a snarky chuckle, “big bad Cecil taken down by the rookie.”

Cecil threw him a smoldering glare. Josef using the nickname he gave you really seemed to strike a cord with him. “Remember who gives you your paycheck.” With that he turned and walked down the hall, later reappearing in a room overlooking the training grounds through a glass window. His voice crackled back to life over an intercom. “Alright, let’s get started.”

—————

Disclaimer:

I try to be as accurate as possible to the source material for this fan fiction, but at times I’ll get it wrong. The timelines for the Guardians of the Globe as well as Cecil are not as accurate as they should be but for the sake of wanting to have all the characters in here I fudged it. Just know that I understand not everything is accurate but let’s just try to have a good time regardless!

[markanddebbie-protectionprogram]

[shaky voice] you guys have no idea how much this means to me-

post containing the link of my invincible fic about mark's birthdays

[lostcybertronian]

prompts 5 and 34 for engineer mark please?

Love me some angst. Post-ISWM pt. 2

---

Prompt: “I can’t sleep. Can I sleep here?” / “It’s just you and me.”

You didn’t go down to the planet like the others, preferring to stay on the Invincible II where you could see it and protect it. It had been some days since you’d last seen a wormhole, but the creeping feeling that you’d be sucked into another dimension at any moment had yet to fade. You couldn’t eat. You couldn’t sleep. But you could pace the bridge, staring into (literal) space, pretending you were okay.

“Captain?” 

You turned. Mark stood at the door, refusing to meet your eye. He shifted his weight back and forth, shuffling his feet. “I can’t sleep,” he blurted out, when you didn’t say anything. He gestured to his cryopod, just to the right of the door. “Can I sleep in there? I’m . . . more comfortable there.”

You kept your expression carefully blank even as a maelstrom of thoughts crashed into your mind; Mark here, for decades, entire lifetimes, with nothing but himself and the ship, looking for a solution. Looking for you to be a solution.

“Captain?” Mark asked, and you cleared your throat; you’d been silent too long.

“Of course,” you said, hoping your voice was steady. “You can sleep wherever you want.”

For a moment Mark looked so intensely grateful that you had to avert your eyes. You heard his quiet footsteps as he plodded to his cryopod, and thought even those footsteps were exhausted.

“Do you ever-”

You turned. Mark had the cryopod door open and was half-in, leaning out to talk to you. 

“Do you ever think about how it’s just you and me?” He asked. “Just you and me who know, I mean. What happened.”

Of course you did. It was all you thought about.

You paused a moment to compose your answer. Mark’s stare remained on you, unwavering. 

“It is just you and me,” you said carefully. “But it is you and me. You’ll never be alone with what happened because I know, too.”

For the first time since you’d destroyed the universe, Mark smiled. “Thank you, Captain.” He said. “That makes me feel better.”

He climbed fully into the cryopod, its interior glowing faintly as it booted up. As the door shut and latched you turned back out to look at the massive planet below, glad Mark found your words comforting but wishing you felt the same.

[violetswritingg]

Valkyrie

Mark Grayson x OFC!

Description: In which two superpowered teens meet and fall in love amongst blood, death, and betrayal

Rating: M (Canon typical violence, betrayal, mental health issues, survivor's guilt, abandonment issues, child neglect, angsttttt)

Want to read the other chapters?

Click here

9: Shit Show

~~*~~

I’ll laugh along, I’ll sing the songs you wanna hear

Let me in, oh, let me near

Honestly, It’s a Shit Show, my God

But it’s this show, I want to be there, Whoa-oh

Honestly, It’s a Shit Show, my God

But it’s this show, I want to be there, Whoa-oh

~~*~~

Stella flew up to the top of the building just to get some air, knowing she only had so long before she needed to be back to go over training schedules and basic information with the new team. Which is going to absolutely demolish her.

Having to formulate a plan that would still work with her schedule and also get the team ready in the fastest fashion essentially meant her flying back and forth from home to the pentagon for an early morning training session, then to school, at lunch fly back to the pentagon and have a training session, then fly back to school before it was over, still find time to eat, finish her school day, fly back to the pentagon and then end the day with paper work and homework.  

It was going to suck.

But it needed to be done, it was the only way.

Finally deciding she had had enough time, Stella went back to the training arena, walking in as Robot was handing out the training schedule.

“As soon as the forensic investigation had concluded, we’ll be moving into the Guardians’ headquarters.” Robot informed.

“Home sweet home.” Stella smirked wolfishly. A hidden bit in her words as she stepped up beside Robot.

“Thank you for joining us Valkyrie, better late than never.” Robot’s dig didn’t go unnoticed, and her grin just got wider as narrowed her eyes at the android, who knew how to be passive aggressive but not how to compromise.

“Sorry for the tardiness, had to take a call. But until we can move into Headquarters training will take place here.” Stella took over, stepping in front of Robot. Childish, she knew, but she was really done with him today. “Breakfast at 5:00 am, followed by close-in combat exercises until 8 am-” Stella cut off when she noticed the 2 on Dupli-Kate’s chest, eyes narrowing, “Where’s Kate prime.”

“Had a thing, I can fill her in.”

“Going forward Prime will need to be here, there is nothing more important than this-” Stella’s annoyance was interrupted.

“Just to be clear, there is no universe where I wake up at 5 am and the world isn’t on fire.” Rex held up the schedule in his hand and lit it on fire. Stella’s teeth grit together as the bandaged boy leaned forward on his knees. “Like come one, we don’t need this bootcamp bullshit. It’s us Robot. And Valkyrie knows how we fight. We’re fine.”

“You’re not on the Teen Team any more Rex.” Robot stepped up beside Stella, the girl could have sworn she heard annoyance peeking through his normally robotic voice.

“Exactly. I’m sure you’ve had a lot of experience wrangling teenagers, but I was with the Guardians from day one.” Sampson got himself involved and Stella felt like multiple veins were present on her forehead.

“Wow, thanks dad. Maybe if you hadn’t lost your powers you would have been there to help the Guardians’ on their last day.” Rex retorted, with his usual lack of delicacy.

Stella’s hands clenched by her sides, her fingernails cutting into the skin on her palms. Sampson looked to their young leader and narrowed his eyes at Rex, “I don’t know you yet, but I’m gonna assume that was a joke,” Sampson bent down and got into Rex’s face, “and I don’t need to beat your ass until all you wanna do is call me dad again.” There was a moment of tense silence before Sampson stood up straight, looking to Robot, “I don’t know you either, but we need a leader who we can look in the eye. Not a bunch of one’s and zero’s.” Sampson glanced at Stella and the girl stood a little taller. “No, offense.”

“That’s actually super offensive,” Kate spoke up from her spot, “So, wait, you think you should be in charge?”

“I do have the most experience, but that’s not what-” Sampson shrugged his large shoulders, getting interrupted by Rex.

“Most experience in what? In losing your powers. I mean, come on, why do we even waste our time on this guy? He wears a suit, it takes batteries.” Rex stood, trying to preach to the team, “Let’s just get Eve back in here.”

“She refuses to be in the same room as you.” Stella narrowed her eyes at the boy, “I wonder why.”

“I’m new to this whole team building thing, but I thought it involved teamwork?” Shrinking Rae questioned, sighing and standing up she waved at Robot and Stella, “Call me when you figure it out I’ll be-”

“Sit. Down.” Stella snapped, crossing her arms over her chest, “Whether you like it or not, I am leading this team along with Robot. You may have fought in teams before together or were solo heroes, but that’s the past.” Stella’s words were low in her chest, forcing the rest of the team to listen to her, her eyes ready to light the world on fire should any one of them dare to railroad over her again. “You are now the Guardians of the Fucking Globe! The first and last line of defense for the entire world!” The whole room was silent, the heroes who had been arguing before at least having the decency to look a little guilty, “Stop acting like petulant children and fix your shit. Because I’m sorry but this is unacceptable.”

Turning on the red headed boy she zeroed in, pointing a finger at him as she spoke, “Rex I will make sure your ass is up and out of bed at 4:30 every morning even if it kills me, that goes for everyone. And Kate prime will show up every day herself or risk losing her spot. We will, in fact, be doing what you called bootcamp bullshit because this is not a team. It is very far from it. And that is why we need to train together. So that maybe, just maybewe can even attempt to live in the shadow the previous Guardians left.” Stella took a deep breath, looking around. “Any objections? Because if so, I recommend leaving now, since this is what it takes to become a Guardian. And if this is too much for you then you obviously aren’t ready and, in that case, we will find someone who is. Does everyone understand?”

Stella’s intense eyes flickered over every person in the group, willing them into submission. Sampson one of the only ones who fully met her gaze. A proud smirk on his lips as he nodded.

“Understood Cap.” His deep voice rumbled and broke up the tension, the others’ nodding among vocalizations of confirmation. Rex still complaining as they all walked past Stella and Robot, Sampson stopping beside Stella for a second, looking down at her with a grin and a warm hand on her shoulder.

“The future looks bright.” With that he walked off, Stella grinning to herself for a moment before Monster girl stopped in front of her and Robot.

“I can’t do three combat exercises a day.” Her voice was quiet, and the girl was having a hard time meeting Stella’s eye. A sinking feeling in Stella’s stomach, she didn’t want them to be afraid of her, but they needed a lot of work and most of them were far too comfortable coasting with their new titles. As if being inducted meant they were at that level when they so obviously weren’t. It was a battle of ego’s and Stella needed to take them down a peg or two for this team to work as a group and not six individuals.

“Why not?” Stella asked, softer than before.

“We are on a rather tight timetable to get this team operational.” Robot’s voiced stressed, Stella sent the android a glare before looking back to Monster girl.

“What’s wrong?”

Monster girl then explained how the curse that gave her her powers came with some pretty heavy side effects. Her getting younger each time she transforms. Stella took in the information and nodded.

“I don’t look it but I’m twenty-four years old. I used to go by Monster woman, but it got too hard to explain so…if you don’t want to start changing my diapers three exercises a day are too much for me. If that means I’m out, I’ll accept it, I just wanted to thank you for even considering me.” Monster girl finished.

“I didn’t…” Robot trailed off, Stella picking up for him.

“There’s a difference between being lazy and having a genuine restriction on how much you can use your abilities. If I overdo it, I go into a hypoglycemic coma, and risk dying, so I get it. We’ll adjust the schedule to better fit with your needs.” Monster girl smiled up at Stella.

“Thank you.” Stella muttered out a ‘don’t worry about it’ in response. Monster girl on her way out when Robot spoke up.

“It must be difficult. I understand what it’s like, for the world to look at you and see one thing, never knowing the truth of what’s inside.” Stella watched Robot with confusion and suspicion as he faced Monster Girl and said what he said. It making no sense to her, much like it made no sense to Monster girl.

“How could you understand? You’re a robot.”

With that Monster girl waved at Stella and left.

Stella’s watched beeped and she read the coordinates and cursed. It was a couple of states over, this was going to be rough.

“I gotta go, someone’s attacking Mount Rushmore.

~~*~~

“Rogue supervillain, public in danger, Eve’s already en route, Valkyrie needs a lift, she’s waiting at the pentagon.” Cecil tossed a small earpiece towards Mark, the boy struggling to catch it. Inspecting the piece of tech as Cecil continued, “Here, so we can talk on the way.”

“Stella’s gonna be there?” Mark asked, perking up.

“Oh, did that just sweeten the deal?” Cecil raised an eyebrow, eyes darkening at Mark’s use of Stella’s real name.

“What? No- I mean, where is this… at?” Mark asked, glancing at the door.

“Amber is washing her hands.” Cecil sighed, “Mount Rushmore.”

“What state is that again?”

~~*~~

“Did you seriously not know Mount Rushmore was in South Dakota?” Stella asked, trying to find humor in an uncomfortable situation. Mark standing in front of her in his suit, her suited up as well.

“Okay, okay, laugh it up but we gotta go.” Mark rolled his eyes; an awkward air surrounded them as they realized what came next.

“Right, um. When I would have to do this with Immortal I would just kind of cling, like a baby koala.” Stella tried to mimic a hug like motion, “It would leave him a hand free to control his speed and punch should he need to do so.” Stella dropped her arms, thin, forced grin on her face. Stella doing her best to avoid Mark’s eyes and the warmth invading her face.

“Okay, uh, sounds good.” Mark rocked back on his heels, if his suit hand pockets, his hands would be shoved in them.

“Okay uh,” Stella chuckled under her breath at herself, “Jesus Christ, this is ridiculous.”

“Just a little bit.” Mark chuckled. His grin more natural now. Stella lifted up to his level, placing her hands on his shoulders.

“I’m going to wrap my legs around your waist, okay?” She cleared, getting a silent nod from Mark. The boy swallowing harshly before clearing his throat as she did just as she said she would. Arms around his shoulders. His hands hovering over her back. “If you don’t support me this is kind of useless.” Stella reminded and Mark placed his arm around her back this time. Feeling like his heart was beating out of his chest.

“Okay,” Mark took a breath and smiled, “Please keep arms and legs inside the ride and make sure you are strapped in and secured.”

“You are such a dork.” Stella chuckled, her grin hidden in his shoulder. Mark’s heart stopped hearing her voice so close to him and feeling her breath on his neck.

 Clearing his throat, he forced his voice deeper to mimic a plane announcer, “Take off in, 3, 2, 1.”

~~*~~

[michaelsfavgirl]

heartstrings & rings

Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader

Synopsis: A thoughtless act on your part leads Michael to mistakenly believe you're planning to divorce him. Consumed by fear he spirals, thinking he's about to lose you.

Tags: light angst, angst with a happy ending, established relationship, misunderstanding, mention of divorce.

Word Count: 1.7k

Requested: yes/no

Author’s Note: I'm trying to get better at writing angst

Links: navigation | masterlist | taglist

You’re in your luxurious walk-in closet, surrounded by the endless racks of designer clothes. The shelves stretch from floor to ceiling, filled with everything your heart has ever desired, all organized by season and color. You’re standing in front of a full-length mirror, your brows furrowed in concentration as you pull on a pair of pants, only to tug them off moments later.

You’ve been doing this for the past twenty minutes—putting on clothes, taking them off again, sifting through options like a stylist on a deadline. Today’s a shopping day with your friends and you want to look absolutely flawless. Of course, Michael insists that you use his card and not your own. He's always made it clear: what’s his is yours, and what’s yours is yours.

You smile at the thought, rummaging through your jewelry collection to find the perfect accessories. Your fingers absently fiddle with your wedding band and engagement ring as you try on a few necklaces and swap out a pair of gold earrings for something with more sparkle. 

Finally, after trying on half your closet, you settle on an outfit that showcases your sense of style. But as you give yourself a final once-over in the mirror, something doesn’t quite fit. Your rings, your beloved wedding band and stunning engagement ring, don’t quite match the vibe of your outfit.

Without thinking twice, you slip them off, replacing them with a few rings that go better with your look. You toss them onto the bed thoughtlessly, mentally noting to put them back on later, before walking out the door.

—

Meanwhile, Michael is wrapping up an exhausting day at the studio. He’s been working tirelessly, and all he can think about is coming home to you and recharging with a quick nap before you return from your shopping spree. He smiles to himself, thinking of how you’ll undoubtedly strut through the living room later, showing off your new outfits like you always do, and how he’ll cheer for every single one. It’s a tradition he cherishes, one that brings a sense of normalcy to his otherwise hectic life.

The house is quiet when he arrives. He heads straight for your shared bedroom, tossing his jacket onto a chair as he pulls off his shoes, already anticipating the comfort of your shared bed.

But as he approaches, something catches his eye. There, on the cozy sheets, are your wedding band and engagement ring, glinting in the sunlight like tiny, heart-wrenching beacons.

His breath catches in his throat, and for a moment, the world feels like it’s crumbling beneath his feet. He stares at the rings, his mind racing. Why would you leave them here? Why did you take them off? The thoughts claws at him, panic quickly seeping into his chest.

His heart pounds as he walks closer, sitting on the edge of the bed and picking up the rings with trembling hands. What does this mean? His thoughts spiral as he turns them over in his palm, his vision starting to blur. The weight of them feels like the weight of his worst fears—fear that he’s failed you, that he hasn’t been the husband you deserve. Is this how you’re telling him? Is this how you’re leaving him?

His chest tightens, and it becomes harder to breathe. He clutches the rings, pressing them against his chest as if holding them close would somehow keep you from slipping away. Tears fog his vision, spilling down his cheeks as his mind continues to spiral. How could he not have seen this coming? He thought things were perfect, that your marriage was growing stronger with each passing day. But apparently, he was wrong. He wasn’t good enough. He should have been more attentive, more loving, more… everything.

God, I can’t lose her, he thinks, his tears falling freely now, dripping onto his shirt as his whole body shakes. The love he feels for you is so deep, so consuming, and the thought of losing it—of losing you—makes his heart feel like it’s being torn apart.

He’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t even hear the door open. He doesn’t notice when you step inside, your arms laden with shopping bags and a soft smile on your face.

That smile drops instantly when you see him. His shoulders are hunched, his back trembling with silent sobs, and you can’t even see his face because he’s holding his head in his hands. Your heart clenches in panic as you lose your grip on all the bags and let them fall to the floor. You rush to his side.

“Michael? Michael, what’s wrong?” Your voice is filled with worry, your hands immediately cupping his tear-streaked face as you stand in front of him. You feel the wetness of his tears on your palms, your heart squeezing painfully at the sight of him like this—so vulnerable, so broken.

But his eyes… they don’t even meet yours. He looks past you, still holding something tightly in his hand. Your voice shakes as you plead with him. “Please, talk to me. What’s going on?”

He pulls your hands away gently but doesn’t speak. Instead, he drops to his knees, wrapping his arms around your legs, holding onto you like you’re his lifeline. His voice cracks, pleading as he presses his forehead against your thighs. “Please… please don’t do this. I’ll be better, I promise. Just… Please don’t leave me.”

You freeze, confusion flooding your senses. What on earth is he talking about? You feel his grip on you tighten, his body trembling against yours as his desperate words continue to spill out. “I’ll be more attentive, more loving… whatever you need. Just please, don’t leave. Don’t file for divorce.”

Your mind races, trying to make sense of his words, of why he’s in this state. Divorce? Leaving him? You’re about to beg him to explain when something catches your eye—his hand, the one that’s clutching something so tightly. You gently pry it open, revealing the rings in his palm.

Your wedding band. Your engagement ring.

And suddenly, it all clicks.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, the realization hitting you like a freight train. 

He looks up at you, his tear-streaked face filled with so much raw emotion that it nearly breaks your heart. His lips tremble as he opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. He just looks at you, utterly lost.

You feel horrible, guilt slamming into you as you realize what he must have thought when he saw the rings. Sinking down to his level, you wrap your arms around him, as you desperately try to bring him out of his haze.

“No, no, no. It’s not what you think. I just… I just took them off because they didn’t match my outfit. That’s all. I swear, I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean to—”

He interrupts you, his voice still shaky but tinged with disbelief. “They didn’t go with your outfit?”

You nod, your throat tightening with emotion. “Yeah. That’s it. I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think about how it would look. I just… I didn’t want to clash, and I didn’t realize you’d—” Your voice falters, on the brink of tears yourself.

Michael stares at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, to your surprise, he lets out a shaky laugh, a sound that’s so unexpected that it takes you a moment to process it.

“They didn’t go with your outfit,” he repeats, as if trying to wrap his head around the absurdity of it.

You nod again, your own tears threatening to spill over. “Yeah,” you whisper, your voice cracking.

He shakes his head, letting out another soft chuckle, and suddenly he wraps his arms around your waist, his face buried against your chest as he laughs, really laughs this time, the sound full of relief and disbelief all at once.

You can’t help but giggle along, the tension between you evaporating in an instant. You lay your head against his curly hair, finally breathing out. The sheer absurdity of the situation is too much to handle, and soon you’re both laughing together, wrapped in each other’s arms as the misunderstanding dissolves into nothing.

“I can’t believe you thought I was divorcing you,” you say, your voice still tinged with laughter as you stroke his hair.

“I thought I was a terrible husband,” he admits, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression soft and vulnerable. “I thought I wasn’t good enough for you.”

You shake your head, cupping his face in your hands as you gaze into his dark brown eyes. “You’re not a terrible husband. You’re the best husband I could ever ask for. And I’m sorry I scared you like that. I love you more than anything. I’m not going anywhere. Ever.”

He smiles softly, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I love you too,” he whispers, leaning in to press a tender kiss to your lips. The kiss is slow and unhurried, helping him remind himself that you are his and he is yours. Body and soul.

For a long moment, you just stay there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, the weight of the misunderstanding finally lifting as you hold each other close. And as you sit there, your heart full of love and relief, you can’t help but marvel at how deeply you love this man—the man who thought he wasn’t enough for you, even though he’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more.

Eventually, Michael pulls back, his smile soft and genuine as he takes your hand in his, gently sliding your rings back onto your finger. “There,” he says quietly. “Right where they belong.”

You smile, tears brimming in your eyes once more as you lean in to kiss him again. This time, the kiss is passionate and full of love, a promise of forever.

“Now,” you say with a playful grin as you pull back, “are you ready for the fashion show?”

He laughs, shaking his head as he wipes the last of the tears from his eyes. “Of course I am. My little fashionista.” And with that, the two of you fall back into the easy, playful rhythm that defines your relationship.

© michaelsfavgirl 2024

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