Pairing— Mark Grayson x F!reader
Synopsis — you have recently relocated to the GDA headquarters, and subsequently, right into Invincible's arms. Will you be able to navigate love, sex and all the rest with a superhero, or will it prove all too much for your human heart?
Warnings/tags— 18+, smut, angstttt, i kinda dogged on cecil this whole fic but he's the man fr, masturbation, p in v sex (use protection!!)
Nomi's note— this was supposed to be a pervy coworker! mark x reader but then it spiralled into this beautiful mess. i hope you enjoy, and if you want to be added to my taglist, comment below!
Fucking Cecil wouldn’t leave him alone.
This was the third time this week he’d called Mark in to discuss “erratic behaviour.”
So what if Mark beat that man half to death?! He deserved it!
Not to mention that Mark had been working for this man for nearly 8 years without payment! He saved lives for a living, and this is what he got in return?!
It was getting redundant. Mark was no longer the naive little boy that needed coaching. He was 25, tired, and just trying to get through the day without some old man bitching in his ear.
He huffs, close to flying out of the room (door, not ceiling), when he hears heels clicking up to the door. He’s about to warn Cecil of the intruder when the man looks at him and waves him off.
The doorknob twists and you walk in. You were in business wear, a pencil skirt, fitted blazer, the whole getup, and Mark can’t help but gulp. He didn't give two shits what Cecil or anyone else in the GDA wore, but he suddenly felt extremely underdressed in his skin tight suit in front of you.
You look at him and smile, then turn to Cecil, handing him some files and running him through the information. Mark tries to listen, really he does, but all he can hear is your heart beating in your chest.
The bum-dum, bum-dum, slowly ticking in his head like you’d set a bomb off and were waiting for it to explode.
Of course, you had no idea of your effect on the man. It was your first day working at the head office of the GDA, having been a supervisor at another division for a couple of years.
Cecil himself had requested your presence following some rebel attacks near headquarters. You had accepted, naturally, because you were smart and were making moves to the top, and knew if there was any way in, this would be it.
He’d requested a thorough report on the perpetrators and then told you to meet him so he could ask you a favour.
You hadn't expected that there would be company.
And you certainly hadn't expected what he would be asking of you.
When you are done briefing him, he nods, then turns to face the man that has been standing there for some time. He’s got his signature blue and yellow suit on, and even with the mask, you know exactly who he is.
“Invincible,” You address him. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Mark's mouth dries at the sound of your voice. Smooth like honey, not a single tremble, nor a hint of uncertainty. It sticks to him, and like a fly, he's trapped.
You step forward and reach your hand out for him to shake. He stumbles for a second, then takes your soft hand in his, shaking it firmly, though it looks like he didn’t mean to.
“This is who you’ll be working with,” Cecil says, and you nod at him, and then look down at where Mark was still fixedly holding your hand.
“O-oh!,” he chuckles, letting it go, hand reaching behind his neck to scratch it bashfully. You shake your head, your warm smile never once fading. What a beautiful shade of red on your lips...
Mark shakes himself back to reality, turning to Cecil accusingly.
“Work with?! What the fuck, Cecil, I don’t need a babysitter!” The sudden change in his demeanour is shocking, but you’ve seen more surprising things. You try not to be offended since you knew what it was like to work under someone like Cecil. Ironfisted and unyielding.
Though not everyone could speak to their boss like that…
"That's all, Mark." Cecil says dismissively.
You feel him leave before you see it, with your hair ruffled, a sharp gust of wind hitting your face and in the blink of an eye, the man in the blue and yellow suit is gone.
Cecil sighs, and with a half-assed encouraging nod in your direction, teleports himself out of the room.
You’re left alone, smoothing out your hair as you try to make out what new path you were headed down.
Working with Mark consisted mostly of surveillance. Making sure he doesn't kill anyone, no matter how deserving he might deem them. His suit had a tracker attached to it, and the GDA's technology allowed you to have eyes on him practically everywhere.
Needless to say, it was not a particularly challenging nor stimulating job, but if it was what was required of you to gain Cecil's favour, then it was what you'd do.
It had been a couple of weeks, and you had seen Mark in person probably a handful of times since your first meeting. Still, in that time, you had noted a few things about him.
Firstly, he was half-alien. You knew that, of course. That he had Viltrumite blood coursing through his veins. But it had never really been something you fully grasped until you were in his close proximity. His strength was unlike any of the other hero's you had worked with. He seemed almost unaware of it.
Also, he was fast. Physically, certainly, but also quick to make a decision. To jump to conclusions. To come storming into the GDA because things didn't go quite to plan in the field.
He was swiftest in his guilt.
Lastly, his poker face was terrible. Mark Grayson couldn't keep a secret to save his life. He was all furrowed brows and rolled eyes, but you could tell he liked you. Maybe it was the dusty pink that would sweep over his face whenever he looked you in the eye.
Or the way he would trip over himself to help you with the smallest thing. Like when you dropped your pen in front of him. He surged forward, ready to deliver it to you, but you shook your head.
He was also very obedient. Perhaps only to you. He had no issue defying the GDA's orders, but the second you told Mark to do something, it got done.
So when you bent down in front of him to retrieve the pen yourself, it was no surprise to see the chub at the front of his suit rise as he tried, and failed, to conceal it.
You try to hide your smirk as you tuck that information away too.
Mark was complaining again. You roll your eyes but listen to him drone on and on about the villain and massive asshole he had to fight today.
"... made me crash into three buildings! three!" he continues, pacing back and forth in front of you.
"He sounds like a real fucker," you say, trying to comfort him.
"Thanks, he was!" He huffs.
"You should go rest," you suggest, seeing the dark circles around his eyes. There was a slump in his shoulders too, and a drag in his stride.
“We’ll call you if we need you.” He nods, and you decide to turn and occupy yourself with your daily report while he sees himself out. But nothing with Mark was ever simple.
Hearing footsteps approach, you decide to keep shuffling your papers, pretending to be busy. Maybe you were afraid of what you might do if you faced him. Maybe you wanted to help him relieve his stress.
Maybe you could put him to sleep.
Ignoring your thoughts, you continue mindlessly shuffling the papers in front of you. Gosh, you'd have to organise them all over again when he left.
He’s close enough now that his body heat was radiating to you. God, he ran hot. It was 41 degrees Fahrenheit outside, and he was emanating heat like a furnace.
Maybe that was just another component of his Alien physiology. You tuck it in, at the back of your mind, with all the rest of the facts that you've been cataloging about Mark Grayson.
"M'not tired," he drawls. "Can think of better things I'd rather do with my time."
“Careful, Mr Grayson,” You lilt, turning your head back to look at him.
“Mark.” He corrects, eyes unfocused as he stared at your lips.
“Mark,” you amend, licking your lip. “Don’t bite off more than you can chew.”
You brush past him, and with that, he’s left watching the swish swish swishing of your hips as you leave the room.
Shit, he thinks. He wishes he could bite those lips for you.
Mark had tried, he really had, but it was impossible to scrub the image of your backside as you left the room. He was the strongest person in the country, maybe the world, but he never felt weaker than he had the few seconds your body brushed past his.
He thought of you everywhere. When he kicked some amateur villain to the ground. When he took some criminals into custody. In the sky, space, his house.
He thought of you late at night, when the weight of the day settled into his bones and the idea of you there with him, in his bed, made him feel lighter.
He especially thought of you when he grabbed his half-stiff cock.
You were driving him mad. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this crazy over anything.
All-consuming. That was the only way to describe you. Like ivy, you had spread your branches all over his heart.
There had been some misinformation that led to a lot of people getting hurt. The GDA couldn’t have known, and neither could he.
“It’s not your fault–” you start.
“Yes, yes it is.” His voice cracks, and your heart breaks for him.
"Mark," you say softly. "You can't carry the weight of the world on your own."
And he was angry. Livid, truly. He used to be so hopeful, so optimistic. Even after his father had betrayed humanity and he had to prove himself to the world all over again.
Maybe time was really all it took. The day by day chipping away of his sanguine outlook on life. A little bit of him died every time he was too late, too slow, too him.
He only ever felt like he was disappointing everyone.
You’ve only known Mark for a few months, but you think you have a better understanding of him than most.
So when he tucks his neck into the crook of yours, you let him.
When he wraps his arms around your waist, you let him.
But when he moves his head back to look at your lipa from between his lashes, and when his kips brush yours, you turn your head.
“You aren’t in the right headspace.” You say.
He nods but keeps his arms tight around you.
And of course, you let him do that too.
“Him and a few other heroes… medal awarding ceremony…” Cecil drones on.
"Sir..." you trail off. "Is that a good idea right now?"
It had only been a couple days since the incident at the city square, and Mark still looked like he was spiralling. He’d show up at your place at odd hours of the night, eyes rimmed red and voice all hoarse like he’d cried it away.
"The people need a win." Cecil states with a tone of finality. "Get Mark to that stage. That’s an order.”
A virtually improbable objective.
But you were nothing if not a defier of the odds.
It took some convincing, some batting of your lashes, and even some ‘innocent’ touches on his arms to get him to agree.
However, here you were now, 10 minutes to the ceremony, and Mark was nowhere to be seen.
Just as you were about to give up, you feel a blast of air as he zooms into the room.
You smooth your hair out, then take him in. You had to give him credit, because he sure could clean up well when he wanted to.
"Mark Grayson!" You exclaim, gasping sarcastically. "Are you wearing a suit?"
He smiles sheepishly, then says, grumbling mostly to himself; "I always wear a suit."
You laugh. "But they're not usually this dashing."
He chuckles, then walks up to you. You keep your eyes on your phone, keeping up with the updates being sent by the crew.
When you look up, he’s still looking at you up and down, and you feel your stomach twist.
You turn around, trying your best to hide your smile. “I’m not like you,” you start. “I don’t get to take liberties with my workplace.”
“What does that mean?” He laughs softly.
“It just means I have rules.” You say teasingly, walking over to the stage curtain.
“Mm. And what rules would those be?” He follows you to the curtain, crowding you against it.
“Well, first, don’t do anything stupid.” You turn around, hands coming up to smooth his tie. He inches closer.
“Not to mix work and pleasure.” His fingers graze yours.
“And chiefly, not to fuck my coworkers.” He nods, holding your hands now, but you can see the black in his eyes engulfing the brown. The heave in his breath. His slow blinking as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear.
You duck under his arm, smiling at the woozy look on his face.
“You’re on now.” You state, pushing him through the curtain and onto the stage.
Cheers and screams of “Invincible, invincibile, invincible!” erupt.
And the heat inside you grows just a little bit more.
You stood in front of a very agitated Cecil. Mark had done something wrong, but that was not surprising.
"He's at home right now, Sir." You respond.
"Well then go to his fucking house if you have to," Cecil raises his voice. "Mark has got to stay in line!" You nod, then march your way out of his office.
You were going to kill Mark Grayson.
"Mr Grayson?" You ask, hesitant. You have met Mark at many places, but never his house. The door had been open, probably because no one could be a threat to Mark, so you had twisted the doorknob and let yourself in.
"What'd I say about calling me that?" You hear his playful voice from behind you.
You turn, whipping your head around to face him.
He blinks at the sting of your hair on his face, having bent down to reach your height while he scrunches his nose to look at you.
"Cecil told me to come and tell you to stop meddling with NYC affairs. It's not your jurisdiction." You cross your arms around your chest, staring at him sternly. Him acting out of turn only made it seem like you couldn't do your job.
"Mmm..." He hums low. He grabs your waist, redirecting you until your back is to the counter, listening as you go on and on about what he had done wrong.
His hands feel large on your waist, and the blush on his face isn't from shyness, like it usually is, but from something...more primal.
He begins trailing his hands up, up, up until they're on the sides of your breasts. Your chest begins rising and falling, and you see his eyes following the movement.
"Everywhere is my jurisdiction," he states, claiming your lips with his own. His lips are soft and warm, just like the rest of him, and suddenly all your complaints feel trivial.
He spins you around, pushing you against the counter and you feel his hands pushing your skirt up.
It’s quiet for a second, and you are about to protest when he rips your tights, guiding his cock to your core and coating your panties with his pre-cum.
You’d fight him about them later, but right now you were too busy moaning at the feeling of his cockhead catching against your clit with every thrust.
Despite having intimate knowledge of his powers, you’re still surprised by how quick he flies you both to his bedroom.
You pause on the bed, and he watches you, searching for any signs of hesitance.
"It's... been a while." You admit. Focused on the career ladder, you haven't given much thought to relationships, other than the casual fling now and then. Even those were few and far between.
"That's fine," he whispers. "Me too."
Mark had never been as glad for his super hearing as he was when he could hear the smallest sounds you let out. God, you even breathed pretty.
You look at him from beneath your lashes when he settles in between your parted legs, and his warmth makes you shiver.
Mark didn’t fuck like he fought. He was gentle, watching your face when he nudged himself in. He was so attentive. The strongest man on earth, reduced to putty under your touch.
You feel yourself get wetter at the thought.
He was so vocal, too. Endless streams of–
"Been wanting to do this for so long..."
"Fuck, you're beautiful..."
You clench around him with each groan he lets into your ear. With each sweet whisper that falls from his lips.
And when you fall off the edge, moaning his name into his mouth, you know that he had you, and you had him.
@thatoneraeder @angelnoir222 @blkreaperkaneki
