Haii!! I love your fanfics about invincible but can I request about reader just reading or watching the news in her phone or whatever looking at the invincible war about his best friend until sinister mark appears in her bedroom through the door, while she's sitting in her bed and sinister mark suddenly hugged her his arms over her waist because how much he missed her 👀👀
you’re forced to hide out in your own home and treasure the food you have stocked up. the only issue is that when you think you’re safe, unaware of the sinister version of mark on his way to you.
“reports of multiple invincibles have been spotted throughout the eastern side of europe, along with the border of japan. we urge those to stay inside and to never leave their shelter. more coming soon—“ you shut off your TV, setting the remote down. the sounds of screaming and nearby buildings being demolished filled your ears. you tried to steady your breathing, to calm yourself down before you make yourself known to one of these variants. mark had urged you to never step foot outside of your home, and if you need him to simply call him. he was worried, and didn’t trust the GDA to protect you, especially since that was the first place one of his variants attacked first. all he did was tell you to stay home, and call him immediately if you hear someone outside your door. so you listened, mark seemed to know more about the situation than you did, why question the man who’s trying to save your life?
it took two rings and mark still didn’t answer his goddamn phone. you heard flying above your house, like someone was scanning to see if you were inside. you’d hid the a closet in your bedroom while praying mark would pick up his phone, he promised you he would. the silent ringing went on for a few more seconds until the voice mail began again. out of frustration you turned off your phone and stayed still, whoever was outside didn’t attempt to come in yet, maybe a squirrel that managed to survive was trying to come in. your thought was forgotten immediately when the sound of glass shattering in the living room was heard. you could hear the heavy footsteps of someone walk on the glass before it was silent again, like they’d vanish in thin air. you held your hand over your mouth, muffling any possible noise that could escape your lips. you hadn’t noticed the tear that ran down your cheek, completely frozen with fear as you continued to listen for any more from the intruder. your door creaked open until you saw the flash of black and yellow, then heard cracking outside of your closet door. the last thing you saw was a version of mark who looked so defeated, angry at your world for undisclosed reasons until your vision went dark.
your hearing was muffled, all your body could feel was the soft vibrations of something holding you down—it felt like a dog, but was purring like a cat. you couldn’t piece it together, not until your vision and hearing cleared up. slowly, you gained back your senses only for your body to tense up upon realization, you were being coddled by this version of mark. not slaughtered, tortured, or abused, he simply just cuddled your body whilst his own purred at your warmth. mark giggles to himself, his smile wide before kissing the top of your head and inhaling your scent. he sighs heavily, “just like back home. you’re so perfect in this world,” his voice was soft, but you could feel the blood inside you grow cold with every breath he took. he smiles again before shoving his face in your neck—“i’m gonna keep you, this time i’ll play nicer with you so you won’t break again.” you blinked and tears streamed down your cheeks, this mark had made a promise that sounded like a threat, but you couldn’t fight him. the least you could do was hold him back before he grew angry at your distance.
…
“so squishy, i wonder what you taste like.”
a/n: ouu my god im so sorry this took so long to complete.. ive honestly been feeling unmotivated to write im super sorry again
Can you recommend any good Invincible fics like yours I love yours and want to read more ?
Hi anon. I'm glad you're enjoying my fic.
As for recommendations, I'm just gonna give you the fics I've read in the past (they are all on AO3):
You Know What? Hell Yeah. by Anonymous
I think this was the first Mark Grayson x Reader fanfic for many readers. It was my first. I can't remember if Y/N was reborn or isekai'd. I do remember that it followed canon closely.
My Dead Girlfriend by Reabees
This involves a superpowered Reader x the Variants. They're stuck in the wasteland together. It has a lot of explicit sex scenes and violence. Everyone's horny, everyone's crazy. Read the tags carefully.
In Another Reality ( Literally ) by Pebble_roller
The premise is similar to My Dead Girlfriend, wherein the Reader (I think they're powerless) is stuck in the wasteland with the Alternate Marks. I can't remember the specifics of the plot, but I recall loving the writing style. Legit one of the best writing styles I've ever read. The author is so talented in describing emotion, the current setting, the action--oh god, the action. I love their writing. I JUST LOVE IT. I can't fangirl hard enough.
Pairing/s: Invincible x Reader x Invincible Variants
<<previous chapter | series masterlist
"You are one very lucky lady," your doctor said.
Mark, with your permission, remained at your side during the entire checkup. He frowned at the older man's choice of words. His earthy eyes looked pitch-black. "She fell off a very tall building, doc. I wouldn't call that lucky."
"Mark," you mumbled, "you know what he means." In this world, people were considered fortunate if they survived a villain attack with only one missing limb. A concussion was a godsend.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Grayson. I didn't mean to sound insensitive. She's concussed, so we do want her to stay for observation, but other than that and a few minor cuts—which will heal and leave no scar—she is healthy as a horse."
Mark sighed. "Right. Thank you, doc. And sorry."
"Not a problem." Your physician excused himself and left the two of you alone.
Speaking of— "Did you ask them to put me in a private room?" you asked.
"I did. Don't worry about the money."
"I wasn't, but now that you mentioned it, I hope you know that private hospital rooms aren't part of my monthly budget."
Mark stared at your hospital gown, face dark.
"It's a joke," you said flatly.
"You almost got killed." He placed his hand on the cot, fingers a breadth away from yours. "You could have died."
[Ding. Darkening: 48%, Affection: 77.20%]
The black and pink bars hovered above his head like mock halos.
[We should try and get you killed more often.]
You ignored the system and stretched your arm. You brushed your fingers over his and tried your best to hold his entire hand. The action prompted him to meet your gaze.
You offered a small smile. "Thank you."
"F-for what?"
"For the room. For staying with me."
"Ah, well. Thanks for letting me stay with you. I was scared that you would wake up and… ask for a breakup."
"What? Why?"
"I mean, it's kinda my fault you're here." He paused. "I was the one who invited you to hang out at that café."
"Oh, Mark. That's not your fault."
"I just keep thinking… maybe if I did things differently, you wouldn't have gone through something so traumatic."
You regarded him quietly. Then, you squeezed him. "If the Earth were just a little bit closer or a little bit farther from the sun, life on Earth would've been impossible."
"Huh?"
"I'm trying to say that worrying about what ifs is useless, Grayson. The important thing is I'm alive now, and with all my limbs in tact."
He frowned.
You let go and motioned for him to come closer.
He bent down and you caressed his cheek. "Has anyone ever told you that your eyebrows look like swords?"
"You…" He let out a sound of disbelief, then he chuckled, leaning into your touch. "You have the weirdest non sequiters, you know that?"
"In China, sword-shaped eyebrows are associated with resilience and heroic figures."
"Are you saying I look like a superhero? Because—"
"But…" You examined his face intensely. "You look more like a wet puppy right now. It's cute, don't get me wrong, but it doesn't suit someone with your sharp features."
"Is this your way of cheering me up?"
"Is it working?"
"It's doing something." He scoffed, but cupped your hand. "I'm glad you're safe, princess."
"Me too. Remind me to send Invincible flowers."
His fingers twitched. "What? Why does he get flowers?"
You cocked an eyebrow. "He did save me, didn't he?"
"Oh. Oh, yeah, yeah. He doesn't need flowers, saving people is his job."
"Even if he gets paid, he still deserves to know we appreciate his work."
"I guess." He pouted.
You resisted the urge to laugh. "Hey, Mark? Can you come closer?"
"Closer than this?" he asked, but he was already moving. "Why—!"
You pressed a chaste kiss on his mouth.
[Ding. Affection: 78.90%]
You flopped back on your pillow, leaving him wide-eyed. You whispered, "I really like kissing you."
His tanned complexion glowed red as he beamed, exposing his canines. He leaned down so you didn't need to strain your neck. He stared at your chapped lips.
"I really like kissing you too."
***
Rex Splode went flying straight to the wall of their training hall, his body imprinting into solid brick.
“Ow! What the fuck!?”
Eve, who was sparring with Dupli-Kate, stopped and ran to his side.
Rex threw a glare at his own sparring partner. “What’s your problem, man?”
“Sorry,” Mark said, not sounding the least bit remorseful. He didn’t even check up on Rex. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You’re not even going to take me to the clinic? Hey!”
But Mark was already out the door, nearly knocking Cecil Stedman over on his way inside.
"Whoops, sorry," Mark spouted instinctively, not even sparing his boss a look as he checked his watch. "I'm off for the day."
Cecil, who was surprised at what he considered to be Mark at his most polite, blinked. "Sure."
"And if you're gonna beep me on my free time, it better be because everyone else is half-dead. See ya."
"Asshole!" Rex yelled after him.
Mark slipped into his civilian clothes on the hospital roof. He tossed his backpack behind the water tank, but he was careful not to damage your bouquet.
He squeezed into an elevator, where he was gawked at by some nurses and a few medical interns. Mark was used to attention. He made use of his popularity many times, but he was done with that life.
One of the nurses hit on him, but he could only give a polite smile before exiting. He was a taken man now, after all.
Hospital rooms didn't have locks, but you requested that your door be closed at all times. You were a private person. No surprise there.
Mark knocked on the door and waited for your soft "Come in."
"Hey, princess," he greeted. "How are you?"
"I haven't showered since yesterday, so I feel as bad as I look."
Mark tipped his head, grinning boyishly. "So, you're doing amazing?"
"Ha-ha," you huffed mechanically.
You must have thought he was teasing you. If only you knew…
It felt impossible to think of you as anything less than attractive.
He had helped you remove your makeup before bed, and today your face remained bare and swollen, but the desire to kiss you hasn't subsided one bit. If anything, it's gotten stronger. He couldn't sleep a wink last night. It took a lot of self-control not to imagine kissing you; your cheeks, your forehead, your lips. And other places.
"You got me flowers," you said brightly, dragging him out of his cesspool of thoughts.
"Yup. What's the point in hospitalization if you're not going to get flowers?"
"You're right, I should do this more often."
His smile slipped and you quickly changed the subject, "I'm feeling better than yesterday."
"That's good." He handed you the bouquet and pulled a chair. He plopped down next to you. "Eve sends her love. She wanted to visit but I told her you wanna be alone."
"Thanks. She and Amber actually messaged me last night, and I told them the same."
"My girl is so popular."
"Not as popular as you," you muttered under your breath.
"Sorry?"
"Oh, nothing. Some of the interns asked about you while they were doing rounds."
Mark stilled. "Does that bother you?"
You fingered the petals of a lilac blossom. "I don't like the idea of others ogling my partner. And while exes are understandable, it's not exactly fun to think about you kissing other girls."
Mark's brain stopped. One, you just called him your partner. It was a basic, neutral word, not even romantic, but it gave him chills—the good kind that made him all giddy.
And two—
"Princess, are you jealous?"
You shrugged.
He gently reached over to touch your cheek. "Can you look at me please?"
"No."
Your skin was hotter than normal, and unless he was suffering from a hormone-induced hallucination, you were definitely pouting. Your confession, your shyness, your expression. The very fact that you were jealous had the blood from his skull rushing southward.
"No way—you're really jealous?"
You didn't say anything.
"You don't have to worry about my exes, y'know. We are exes for a reason."
"I know that, but you're essentially my first boyfriend, Mark. I don't like knowing that you can compare me to countless of women and I only get to compare you to Mr. Darcy. It's immature and petty, I know, but it… it's…"
"Disarming? Disheartening? Demoralizing?"
You held the bouquet like a club. "Don't make me hit you."
He hid his mouth behind his arm.
"Don't laugh! I was being vulnerable—that's what couples are supposed to do."
"I'm sorry, you're right. You're right. Thanks for being honest with me." He meant it.
He captured your mouth with his. "Princess?"
"Hm?"
"I'm sorry for calling you frigid."
"You already apologized for that."
"You forgave me too quickly." He kissed you again. Longer this time. Then, he said, "I was wrong. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for calling you all those mean things."
Your affection was clumsy but sincere. You liked him. He didn't know if you considered being in love with him yet, but Mark knew where his heart was.
In your ink-stained, fast-typing hands.
***
Forty-eight hours later, you were discharged from the hospital.
"Are you sure that you don't want to stay here for another week? Just to be completely sure," he asked, pushing your wheelchair.
"No. And can we please get me out of this thing? I can walk."
"You heard the nurse. It's hospital protocol."
You were aware, but you missed walking. You missed being able to do anything alone. Mark had been obnoxiously attentive the past two days. Between offering to spoonfeed you (which you rejected every time) and carrying you to the bathroom (he was scared that you would lose your balance on the way), you haven't had a moment's peace.
You understood from a logical standpoint that this was his way of expressing affection. But on a spiritual level, you really missed being alone.
No, you reprimanded yourself.
You glanced at Mark. When he felt your eyes on him, he gazed down and winked.
You weren't sure how to react so you just grinned awkwardly and focused on your lap.
You shouldn't be complaining. Not only was Mark tall, dark and handsome, the triad for the ideal man, he was smart, financially independent and kind. So what if he was a tad bit clingy?
Was this not the kind of love people write about?
[Why are you thinking so hard about this?]
Ugh.
[I heard that.]
I know.
[You're acting like you two are actually together.]
We are together, you idiot.
[Pfft. You virgins kill me.]
You're starting to sound more and more human-like.
[Oh, how you wound me, Host.]
You rolled your eyes.
[If playing house with this Mark fills that corruption meter, then that is fine with me. However, for your sake, I hope you don't forget that this is all pretend.]
I know that, you replied as you looked back at Mark.
He gave you a smile that filled your chest with warmth. Each beat of your tachycardiac heart spread that same warmth into every part of you, from your ears to your toes.
The system clicked its spiritual tongue. Considering how clinical you were when you bombarded the system with questions, it assumed that you were sex and romance-averse.
[You like studying, don't you? Mm.]
You weren't even listening anymore.
Its seniors were right. The system can warn you but nothing beats experience.
If you want to be part of the taglist, please leave a comment on the masterlist so I don't lose track. Thank you for reading!
Disclaimer: The image used in this post does not belong to me. The image of the Alternate Invincibles is from: https://gamerant.com/invincible-all-alternate-dimension-invincibles-fates/
hey everyone!! i feel like you guys didn't enjoy the previous part as much as the first one soo i'm putting everything william related on a hold for now. i hope you enjoy part three :) as always, i appreciate all types of feedback and i'm open to requests! enjoy <3
Content: human experimentation, minor dehumanization. She/her pronouns for reader
You used to hold his hand.
In the quiet, lonely hours just before dawn. In the loud silence after a hard battle. Through the devastated hiccups of another life lost, and another, and another.
You would hold his hand. His hand covered in blood - the good, the evil, it all looked the same. Joints swollen, knuckles split, fingers crooked, you'd press your palm to his. You didn't care if it had snapped a neck or crushed a skull or just wasn't quick enough to catch someone.
He'd run his thumb over the calloused pads beneath your fingers. Draw his nail across your life line, your love line, and wonder if his name was written somewhere in those creases. He never told you, but it struck him in the gut every time, that you'd trust a blunt tool like him with such a fine instrument. Your hand, that had brought people back from the brink again and again, had worked miracle after miracle.
He would shake with the knowledge of just how easy it would be to ruin them forever. One wrong twitch, one squeeze too hard. It didn't matter that you could fix it if he did, it would still be tantamount to blasphemy. Unforgivable.
But you would hold his hand through the trembling, hold him through it. Kept him together through that one point of contact. A steady clear sky to his unpredictable earthquake.
It wasn't romantic - not at first. It was necessary, it was survival, it was an uncracking foundation.
Sometimes not even a word spoken between you two. Just you there next to him. You would place your hand on your knee, palm up, inviting. And when he was too in his head, too scared and too stubborn, you'd pry his fist open and slot your fingers together.
Amber didn't care, when she saw you two holding hands after a battle. She knew she couldn't be his everything, understood that there was a part of his world that she couldn't reach. He needed a friend and she appreciated someone who could be there with him when she couldn't.
He came to you two days after they broke up, worn and lonely and cold. You held his hand then too, shoulder shored up against his, and let him whisper his lingering guilt into your soothing quiet.
Eve was… different. Not bad of course, Mark loved her. Loves her still.
The breakup was bittersweet, a quiet severance. You weren't the only catalyst, but you weren't not part of it either.
“She just… gets you. Knows you in a way I don't think you'll let me know you.”
When he told you, head in your lap and arm draped over his shoulder to keep the back of your clasped hands close to his heart, you offered distance. You didn't want to be the cause for more loss in his life. Not when Debbie was gone and Nolan was… wherever he was. William purposefully low contact for self-preservation; Amber a fond memory but painful like a bruise. And then Eve…
Mark had held you as tight as he dared.
“No, please. Don’t go. She was right. You… you do get it. The guilt and the blood and the - the impossible choices.”
The most powerful healing abilities in the world. You could save just about anyone as long as their head was still attached. Properly fueled and with enough rest, you could save thousands at a time but every choice was a hard one. You had to decide how and where you used your powers. Saving one possibly meant letting several others die. Every time.
He cried. He missed Eve. He loved her so, so much. Would have died for her.
But whenever he beat the odds, survived the impossible, lived up to being Invincible… it was because he couldn't abandon you to loneliness.
It wasn't one thing that changed. It was the slow evolution of time, trauma, propping each other up when one stumbled. The natural culmination of being something closer than friends, closer than family.
Glances that communicated conversations. Reaching into empty space and knowing the other would meet you there. Working not just around each other but with each other in silence. Shared tears, shared exhaustion, shared responsibility.
Knowing that he wasn't alone on that pedestal. That you were right there with him, and if you fell from it, you would fall together. That he'd catch you before hitting the bottom, and you'd find a safe place to land.
You used to hold his hand.
The lifeless thing in his grip now doesn't hold back. It's like a mannequin. Stiff, waxy, cold. The warmth is gone. The implicit, unspoken understanding is gone.
He barely recognizes you. They've kept you in a gown, an awful bleached white thing that ties in the back. The hem has ridden up enough to see the edge of a clear bandage, protecting neat squares of missing tissue from the meat of your thigh. An IV stint is still taped in the crook of your elbow. He can feel your spine and ribs poking his arm.
Your face is gaunt, sunken, ashy. Lips cracked and dry. They shaved your head. Shaved a lot of you, it looks like, for sterile access points and to keep adhesive in place.
No matter how hard he strains his ears, no matter where he presses his fingers, he can't find your heartbeat.
It was always impressive to him, how steady your pulse was even in the worst situations.
Medics aren't allowed to panic, you'd told him. We don't have the luxury of freaking out, even when we want to.
He doesn't plead. Because if there's any part of you lingering - a soul, a ghost, a few spare neurons stubbornly still firing - he doesn't want to ask you for something you can't give.
And if he begs you to come back, to breathe, to open your eyes, to hold his hand again, and you don't, then…
Then he has to face reality.
The scientists are still alive. He didn't get to indulge in revenge or retribution while trying to reach you because you'd taught him that even fractions of a second could make a difference.
And still, you're—
Someone's called a supervisor. Or maybe an executive. Someone with authority because Mark can hear the click of expensive shoes on tile.
“Look, we weren't hiding it. We just didn't want to present a problem without a solution ready to go,” the man is saying. Clipped, a little annoyed, like this is all some stupid inconvenience and not the end of the world. “But you can tell Stedman we have a way to stretch the efficacy of the specimen’s remaining tissue and—”
He never finishes the sentence.
You and Mark used to fly together, hand in hand. You could never be as fast as him but you'd let him tug you along, laughter lost in the wind. Now, your head lolls limp and grotesque over his bicep.
He crashes through the ceiling without preamble. Protects your body, your corpse, because it's been disrespected enough.
Cecil's eyes go wide, all the color draining from his face.
“Jesus, Mark. Is she…?”
“They experimented on her,” he says. His voice is shaking, cracking down the middle, falling apart because you're not there to keep him all together anymore. “They were using her for samples. They called her a specimen.”
“I'm— I'm sorry, kid.” And he sounds like he means it. Maybe he is sorry, but not for you or Mark. “I know how much she meant to you. To all of us. This is…”
Mark can go weeks without air but he feels like he's suffocating.
“I want her cremated,” he chokes out, “that's what she wanted too. So she can— so no one else will—”
Mark's mask and goggles are still on, and his chin is tilted down towards you but his eyes are up. Watching. Dissecting.
Something flickers across Cecil's face. He's quiet for half a second too long. Not noticeable to any human but for Mark it's slow motion.
“Of course,” Cecil lies, hands tucking in his pockets.
“I want to be there with her.”
“I don't think that's a good idea, Mark. You're not—”
“She's been alone this whole time, Cecil. I'm not going to abandon her again.”
If Cecil had let it go, if he had just given Mark this one last thing, maybe. Maybe Mark would have… not forgiven him, no, but sat quietly in his own grief. For a little while.
But Cecil straightens his spine and squares his shoulders. Says, “Mark, she can still save people. That's what she would've wanted, if she knew it was possible after her death.”
Cecil should have spent more time and energy on Mark's powers than yours. Tearing through the Pentagon is horrifically easy. Half of it is gone before he actually gets his hands on Cecil.
“Why?” Mark spits, shaking him by the remains of his suit. “Why did you let them?!”
“I didn't want to, kid, but look at the math,” Cecil coughs. That same frustrated tone when he thought Mark was being too idealistic. Like he's the only one seeing reality clearly. “She wasn't a hero like you or the Guardians, she was part of recovery. Preventing disasters by keeping you all in top shape is better than trying to salvage remains, isn't it?”
Mark grits his teeth hard enough to crack diamonds. “Then fucking ask her.”
“I did. She refused to work for the GDA beyond auxiliary support. It wasn't reliable or efficient.”
Mark thinks of you, shutting off your phone to finally sleep after days scrambling through wreckage. You, choosing to get an entire hospital through a blackout rather than go to the Pentagon to heal just Rex and Rae after the Lizard League.
“Live Corp. was able to synthesize millions of samples from a small fraction of her tissue, immediately available to dispense.”
Mark was going to take you somewhere. Quiet, peaceful, unreachable. A cabin or an island or something. Wanted to just have time with you, recover with you, exist with you.
You'd looked at him with so much weight when he'd proposed it. Something so much heavier than love.
Then Cecil called. He needed Mark in space.
One more mission, you said, lips brushing the meat of his thumb, and then we can have something just for us.
It was the last time he spoke to you.
He gets more details from Donald, whose machine body held up a little better against Mark's fracturing composure.
Live Corp. had the technology, specialists, resources to make the most use of your body's innate healing factor. As long as the GDA looked the other way, they would be priority customers with dibs on any new products and a private reserve of miracle cures derived from you.
Maybe GDA scientists could have done it, but keeping you on-site for experimentation with Invincible on the roster was too risky.
As if the whole conspiracy wasn't an elaborate planetary suicide in the first place.
People always thought you were a pure altruist. Assumption based on the nature of your powers. You weren't. Kind? Yes. Compassionate? Yes. Selfless? Not by a long shot.
“If I die, you gotta avenge me,” you'd told him, watching Johnny Wicker one movie night. “Like, don't let anybody try to tell you that killing them would make you just as bad or any of that nonsense.”
He'd laughed. “You wouldn't want me to be the better person?”
You had considered, then shrugged. “I mean, do what you want, I'd be dead anyway. But if bad guys fuck up all the good guys, what's left, you know?”
He wonders if this is what you meant but like you said, he can do what he wants now that you're gone.
The entire planet used you. Treated you like nothing more than a walking first aid kit, a miracle on legs. All of humanity took advantage of you, felt entitled to your kindness. Acted as if your life should be spent in service of theirs.
Viltrum is their recompense. And a means to an end. If there's anywhere, any way he can get you back, it'll be out there in the stars.
His hands are always cold. Feel disconnected from his body. Can't keep them still with nothing to hold them down. Humans call him sick, his Viltrumite soldiers think he is unwell. They're right.
And then Angstrom Levy opens a portal and offers a cure.
summary: Your boss interrupts your day off with a very important job— baby sitting a superhuman baby…? It only gets worse (er, better) when the baby’s older brother turns out to be your superhero crush, Invincible!
warnings: spoilers for season 2 of invincible! that's all :)
word count: 1.5k
A/N: this fic collab was between me and my friend, @clemontle-monnier !! i'm so happy to post this after procrastinating on it for so long, haha... anyways, enjoy! :)
Beep!
Your phone, which lay beside you, vibrated. Groaning, you tried to ignore it and go back to sleep.
Beep!
You let out another groan. Whoever texting you was really interrupting your perfect day off. Instead of doing anything fun or going out, you just wanted one thing: a nice, relaxing day with your favorite person (or, object)— your bed! You picked up your phone, unlocking it and checking the notifications that had rudely awakened you. It was Cecil Stedman— your boss at the GDA. Just the person I wanted to talk to on my day off… you thought, wiping your eyes so you could coherently read the messages.
CECIL: Hello, Y/N. Even though it’s your day off, I’m afraid you’re needed for a mission. A very important one.
Please arrive at this location at 9AM sharp.
Attached to the last message was a location. You clicked on it, and to your surprise, it was a… house? A nice, suburban one at that. Usually, your mission locations were more… thrilling— secret labs, abandoned towns, etc. Places lurking with danger and mystery. This mission was either secretly one of those, or something completely different. (Your mind was leaning towards the latter.)
You sleepily got yourself ready, taking a deep breath as you prepared yourself for the events of the day.
•••
9AM arrived quicker than you thought it would. You arrived at the suburban home, politely knocking at the door. A female voice shouted “Coming!” from inside the house, opening the door a few seconds later. A kind, middle aged woman greeted you at the door. You assumed she must be the owner of the house, and probably the one who requested you. “Hello!” she brightly said. You smiled, making yourself seem as approachable as possible. “Hi,” you said. “I’m Y/N. Cecil from the GDA sent me—”
The woman’s face immediately fell flat, her cheerful expression vanished. A more serious, worried one replaced it. “The GDA?” she murmured. You nodded, confused. What had you done wrong? “…I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave.” The silence between you two quickly became awkward. “I’m sorry, but my boss asked me—”
“Perfect timing, kid.” A familiar male voice said. Next to the woman stood Cecil, your boss. The air grew even more uncomfortable. “Debbie, this is—” “Y/N.” the woman— Debbie— brashly said. “We’ve already gotten acquainted.” After a few beats of silence, Cecil broke the stand off. “The GDA has a whole department dedicated to superhero children, Debbie. And they’re one of our finest employees.” he said. “And after everything that happened…” he began to trail off. A somber expression crossed Debbie’s face. “Let us help. I mean it.”
…You continued to awkwardly stand there, averting your eyes between Debbie and Cecil as they exchanged words between each other. It was like a child watching their parents argue. You couldn’t tell whether to step in or stay quiet. Debbie took a deep, frustrated breath. “I am more than qualified to raise Oliver. I raised my son— who already is a superhuman child. And he’s saved this planet twice.” Cecil sighed. “Alright, Debbie. I’ll leave.” He turned around, ready to walk away, but then he stopped. “But please think about the offer.” The woman didn’t answer. She just stayed silent.
Cecil teleported into thin air (per his usual fashion), leaving you confused and mentally stranded. Giving you a quick, sad glance, Debbie headed back into the house. Off of pure instinct, you grabbed the door, stopping it from closing. “Wait, Mrs. Debbie, please—” You cut yourself off, expecting an arguement or scolding from the older woman. But there was nothing. No rebuttal.
“I… I understand your concern. To some extent, at least. I don’t mean to sound egotistical, but I truly am the best at what I do.” you said. “And I’m not doing this for Cecil— I want to help you. Truly.” You had been talking so fast you could barely catch your breath. “Please… trust me, Mrs. Debbie.”
•••
Oliver— Debbie’s stepson— sat on the floor, occupied with a pile of building blocks. You had turned on the TV, casually watching the news while making sure Oliver was okay. It was typical stuff— weather, sports, celebrity drama, and… Invincible? The screen showed how he and the Teen Team were able to successfully take down a local team of villains. You stared at the screen— specifically Invicnble— for a little too long. You’d heard of him, of course, and even seen him a few times at the GDA. Even with the mask on, you thought he was kind of cute. You could always ask Cecil for his true identity, but he’d definitely say no.
“Brah brah!” said Oliver, pointing at the TV. You curiously tilted your head to the side, chuckling. “Your brother? Where?” “Brah brah!” he said again. Your amusement was cut short when you heard the doorbell ring. “Coming!” You said, grabbing Oliver (to prevent him from mischief) and opening the door.
“Sorry Mom, I lost my key again— Oh.”
Oh. Oh. (sorry not sorry for this stereotypical fanfic thing)
You were currently face to face with an extremely handsome guy– tall, neatly combed back black hair, the most beautiful brown eyes (which were sadly accompanied by eyebags), and… an all too familiar yellow, blue, and black suit. It was just your luck that you had magically ran into the Invincible after ogling him on TV. “Brah brah!” Oliver said, reaching out towards the man. Luckily, he had managed to snap you back into reality. You closed your mouth– which was slightly open when you saw Invincible at the door.
“You… are not my mom. Sorry about that.” he awkwardly laughed. “You must, um, be the babysitter. [Y/N], right?”
You nodded, shyly smiling. “It’s nice to meet you, Invincible.”
He chuckled, smiling back. “You can just call me Mark.”
You two stared at each other in a somewhat awkward silence, before you let him in the house. You put Oliver down, and the little kid charged right towards his older brother. Mark treated Oliver like he was his own child. Watching in awe, you thought it was cute how they interacted.
•••
At 5PM, your shift was finally over. Debbie still hadn’t returned from work. Oliver had peacefully fallen asleep on the couch while you were watching him. You gently picked him up, careful not to interrupt his rest. You placed him in the crib, letting out a sigh of relief. You tidied up the house as best as you could, packing up Oliver’s toys and trinkets and putting them where they belonged. Finally, you grabbed your own things and made your way towards the door.
“Wait!” A voice said.
Mark stood a few feet away from you, out of his suit and now in normal clothes, a slip of paper in his hand. “Here’s my, um, number.” he said. “My mom was supposed to pay you, but she’s still busy, so… I’ll pay you.” You politely smiled, hands brushing as you took the paper from his hand. “Thanks, Mark.” He nodded, a faint pink blush on his cheeks. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” You nodded. “Yeah.” You waved goodbye, stepping out of the door.
You let out the huge sigh you’d didn’t know you were holding.
Damn, he’s fine! You thought.
You hopped into your car and drove home, the events of today running through your mind. You were actually looking forward to doing your job. (That was a new feeling.) Or maybe you were just looking forward to seeing Mark again?
A giddy smile stayed on your face as you arrived home, eager to wind down for the night and text Mark. You took out your phone and the paper, saving the number into your phone.
YOU: hi, Mark! it’s me, [y/n] :)
A few seconds passed before bubbles appeared on the screen.
MARK: Hey!
Here’s your money
[$75 dollars sent]
You smiled. This was usually more than you were paid. Maybe this job really was a blessing in disguise.
MARK: My mom says she appreciates you taking care of Oliver.
YOU: it’s no problem!! please tell her i’m grateful for the job! :)
Your simple small talk eventually evolved into a full blown conversation about random topics. Favorite colors, superhero stuff, your shared love-hate relationship with Cecil– you two had more in common than you thought. You eventually felt your eyes growing heavy, so you decided to go to sleep.
YOU: i’m gonna head to sleep now, Mark.
see you tomorrow!
MARK: Goodnight. See you tomorrow!
The young man held the phone to his chest, a giddy smile on his face. He hoped it wasn’t too obvious that he liked you.
The both of you drifted off to sleep, excited for tomorrow to arrive.
just a nsfw drabble to push me out of my writing block!
art creds citruscen07 on twt
pairing: Mark Grayson x spider-woman!reader
tags: mark is a freak, fem reader, masturbation, degradation kink, praise?, mean reader, mark being whipped, sub mark, needy mark allat.
notes: hey guys! I've been tryna get something out for a min but im ngl im kinda stuck on how I wanna go about my next chapter but heres something while I do that! hope u enjoy :)) not proofread i fear
An obsession was something it was never supposed to turn into. You were simply just someone he highly respected, the things you can do are incredible so of course he would admire your abilities.
A selfless hero with an unwavering spirit to serve and protect those in need. Your mysteriousness intrigued him, the way nobody really had an idea of who you were and how the public basically ran off crumbs of info to try and piece you together.
Working with you was no different, especially when you rarely ever look his way or stick around long enough for him to strike up a proper conversation. Regardless, you kept people infatuated with you and who you could be. The city's friendly neighborhood Spiderwoman? Who wouldn’t be interested in you?
Especially Mark.
It’s obviously no secret, well to anyone other than you. You’d randomly get brought up in conversations with his team, subtly trying to ask if you’d be joining them on a mission or for advice on getting to know you. He'd store each bit of information to improve his approach, hopefully impress you even.
God forbid anyone actually mentions you, he turns into the most annoying person ever. Never let the day come where he figures out you have a secret account that only a few have access to. He’d beg Rudy to hack into it just so he could know the things you say or do.
Poor Mark tries his absolute best to grab your attention whenever you show up, he tries to show off some just so you can acknowledge his existence for longer than a few seconds. His mood basically fluctuates depending on if you do or not, it can turn him into the most unbearable person ever.
Oh but when you do. He can’t help but touch himself. As much of a pervert he feels like doing it, you have to understand that getting anything from you was a blessing to him.
When hes back from his mission and hes already palming himself through his suit. Pulling his mask over his head, breath heavy and face flushed as he looks down at his painful erection thats begging to be released.
How could he possibly help himself? It’s rare he even gets to see you so for you to give him more than a few seconds of your time was enough to get him going. Especially when he pisses you off, not that he means to but your patience wears thin whenever you're around him.
His weeping cock slaps against his abs before he begins to fist himself, head thrown back against his pillows while he rubs his thumb over the slit of his angry red tip imagining it's your hand instead of his. He teases himself just like he imagines you would before pumping his leaky cock, pathetic moans falling from his lips while he pictures you jerking him off like a punishment.
It’s almost embarrassing how hard he gets whenever you put him in his place. You get sick of his terrible attempts to woo you that sometimes it results in you getting smart and making fun of him for it. You must've awakened a degrading kink deep within him because the way your mouth gets slick and spits out sharp insults in your pretty voice has him throbbing.
Like the time he got annoyed that you weren’t paying attention to him because you were too caught up in fighting something else that he decided to take it upon himself to take care of it. Maybe it was to showcase his strength, maybe it was to truly be helpful but when he turned to face you with an angry pout on his lips it pissed you off.
It was the way he was staring at you like he was waiting for something, perhaps a sign of gratitude for taking care of the problem- that made you huff out a laugh. “You waiting for a thank you?” you laughed as you threw your hands in the air.
He shrugged nonchalantly as he swung his arms back and forth awkwardly. “I dunno…I wouldn’t mind of you did-”
He was immediately caught off guard once he felt something hit his chest and pull him in. He looked down to see that you had shot out your webs to pull him close to you, you looked up at him, eyes narrowed as you gave the string a rough pull. “I don’t give out free praise. Especially to people that don’t work for it,” you growl as you stare at him.
His face is hot, eyes wide and mouth trembling as he struggles to get his words out. “You can’t speak now? Wowww, when did that happen?” you tilt your head to the side, a smirk on your face underneath your mask from amusement.
This is the closest he’s gotten to you. He’s almost pushed up against you, his hands awkwardly hover above his sides so he doesn’t touch you. He eyes you up like this and he’s trying his absolute best to not pop a boner by how mean and rough you're being with him right now.
His brows furrow as he looks down at you, breath heavy as you tighten your grip on the web you have him on. “You think I’m weak? Is that why you stepped in?” your voice raised as you question him firmly.
“What! No- I just thought that maybe you needed-” a sticky residue covers his mouth and you let out a sigh as you lower your other hand.
“Actually, don’t piss me off even more; I’m not in the mood,” you huff as you pinch your nose before putting your hand on your hip. “I don’t need you going soft on me. You’ve seen me take out stronger guys than that–I’m honestly offended you had felt the need to,” you say as you dramatically place a hand on your chest in offense.
He tries to speak but hes muffled from the webs covering his mouth. You laugh as he struggles and grab his chin to examine him. “You’re a lot more bearable when you're quiet, y’know that? I should shut you up like this more often.”
Mark almost lets out a pathetic whimper at the sound of that because truthfully you really should. His knees are weak and he's so whipped he might as well just get down on them and do whatever you say.
Your senses tingle and you let go of him leaving Mark almost feeling disappointed at the release, as you sense a different threat coming your way. “If you want some praise then actually make yourself useful and help me take out that thing,” you shout as you climb up onto a building.
He stands there in disbelief in your webbing and not really sure how to process what just happened before you shout at him again from the top of the building. “Don’t tell me you can’t break free from my webs, Invincible? You’re one of the GDAs favorites for a reason. Don’t disappoint me now.”
He rips off the webs with ease as he watches you go after another target. He’s so thankful you didn’t seem to notice the strong bulge that was forming between his legs because in reality he could’ve easily broken free but he didn’t want to. Not from you.
He obeyed of course, he did make himself useful while assisting you. Once you both had apprehended the threat he once again patiently waited, watching you closely as spoke to officers as they transferred the threat to one of the high security prisons.
You turn back to him and let out a chuckle. “You really do sit around like a dog, huh Invincible?" you tease while crossing your arms. “Want me to pet you? Give you a treat and call you a good boy?” you say passive-aggressively with faux enthusiasm.
He groans and begins to fly up before you call out to him. “Good work,” you shout as you place your hands on your hips. “I’m only saying this once because I know when I see you again you’re just gonna be a pain in the ass again but…thanks,” you say honestly before shooting up to a building.
“What would I ever do without you Invincible?” you yell dramatically as you swing away.
His eyes squeeze together as he replays your sweet words in his head. Ropes of hot cum spilling into his fist as he bites down on his bottom lip. “Fu-fuckkk nghh,” he grunts as he quickly strokes himself as he reaches his high. Chest heaving and body burning as he imagines you on top of him, your hand slowing to let him catch his breath and you smirking down at him
“You’re one of the GDAs favorites for a reason. Don’t disappoint me now.” Your voice replays in his head as he pictures you straddling his lap with your suit discarded as you line him up with the wet entrance of your pussy.
“I wanna be your good boy…” he whines, brushing his dark locks back before he begins to stroke himself again. “I can hmfgh.. I can do another.”
