#mdgf

[rust1ee]

Have been lazily updating this one since the end of last summer and she’s finally good to go

(Once again based on mdgf by @13tinysocks and @itsabee )

Andd some closeups of the boys in case tumblr destroys the quality again:

[13tinysocks]

My Dead Girlfriend - Chapter Index

Invincible Varients X reader

Current word count: 495K. Ongoing. [Ao3] MDNI

He lied about being a superhero. You lied about not having freaky ass mind powers. You broke up- bitterly. End of story. No shot Invincible and some superpowered grunt for Machine Head would ever work out in any reality. Except. When he comes in droves, hoards of himself, brokenhearted and wanting, wrecking cities for a chance to get one last glance at you.

// Long form, multi-arc, porn with a lot of plot, afab (she/her) reader, use of (Y/n), (Y/n) is a bad person. //

TW: Canon typical violence, toxic relationships, abuse, unhealthy BDSM dynamics, major character deaths, occasional dubcon & noncon, what the flip is wrong with everybody here.

Arc 1

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20][21]

Arc 2

[22] [23] [24] [25] [26] [27] [28] [29] [30] [31] [32] [33] [34] [35] [36] [37] [38] [39] [40] [41] [42] [43] [44] [45] [46] [47] [48]

Caught up! Check @reabees or @itsabee69 for updates or sillies, I may be a little slow updating this post! Thank you for your interest.

[itsabee]

My Dead Girlfriend

He should've been dead. He isn't. And now, the whole galaxy knows it.  

Frottin' 'n' fuckin', NSFW

[Invincible Variants X Reader]

[Part one] [Ao3] [40] [Chapter Index] [Full piece here] [42]

41 * The Heart [15.2k]

"And I know I've kissed you before but,

I didn't do it right,

Can I try again, try again, try again?"

Pink in the Night - Mitski

        All the way down, it burned, tasting like a Yankee candle. You lurched forward, coughing so hard you swore your eyes would pop out. The smoke stuttered out of your nose, coated your tongue in a thin film. You chased it down with a swig of alien vodka soda. When you came up for air, you were lightheaded, aching, and wheezing. Not high.

        "Thought this was supposed to be good."

        "Takes awhile."

        "Better hurry up." You took another drag, only slightly less awful than the first.

        The sun sank deeper into the horizon, a shining slit that made the sea all glittery. You watched dumbly, doobie smoking between your fingers. 

        Seb waited. The light flittered in and out with distant waves. Night creatures came alive in a soft hum. He watched as your eyes shut, as you thought of home, not of him. 

        Tight chested, he opened his mouth, "You never told me what was like, happening."

        Your eyes opened, squinting on the horizon, "I don't know, I got left down here too."

        "No, I-" Seb spluttered, he did not give a shit about what was happening on the ship, only that he was grateful to be down here, clueless with you. "I meant like with you, before this." 

        You finally looked at him, "You never heard anything?"

        He shrugged, broke the eye contact.

        You laughed, small and breathy, and his eyes were drawn back to you, "Do you ever have any idea what's going on?" You'd seen him in meetings, there physically, not mentally. He never stuck around. Always first out the door.

        He hissed out a breath, "I try to stay high enough that I don't have to."

        You took another hit, breathed out bitterly, "Must be nice."

        "Are you gonna tell me shit or just be a dick all night?" You looked glazed already, sclera rims already red, like you'd been crying. He knew you hadn't, but the sight made him say, "Sorry, that was... I'm the dick."

        You weakly sipped at the smoke, coughed, "You are." You made yourself look away at a faraway point. The future, your dreams, wants. He didn't know what those were, but he wanted to. Maybe you wanted to be a space nomad, but he'd never know if he didn't keep talking. Chipping away at your brick wall.

        "I fucked up pretty bad, huh?"

        "Yup. Pret-tee bad." Another sip and cough. "Are you sure this is gonna get me high, by the way? Just kinda feels like I'm smoking a bar of soap."

          "Come on, give it a sec, or you tryin' to kill yourself? This shit gets me high."

         "Why'd you give it to me then?" You pulled up your knees, let your cheek fall into their sandy tops. 

        His mouth opened, closed, opened, closed. You took another drag as he floundered. The taste and feel almost neutral now.

        "Cuz I'm like... I-" You were watching him. Unfocused, dim. How you had to be to talk to him. Except you weren't going after his obvious sympathy bait like his string of exes would've. 

        Another sip. You blew smoke lazily into his face. The rush he felt at first now dimly seeped up his nose. Distant responsibility made him reach out, the glowing end almost touching your fingertips. "Slow down a lil, dude."

        "You've been going all day. My turn." You grunted, brought it back up to your face, sucked hard.

        He reached out. "Seriously, slow down. I dunno what'll happen if you go that fast."

        You leaned away, "I'm fine," he leaned in. Further and further your arm went back as your body tipped backwards. He kept reaching, on his hands and knees, arm stretched. "No." You slurred, awkwardly kicking your ass back through wet sand. You tried to twist, to sneak in another drag, but he was quicker than you. His hand a shackle around your wrist, held over your head. G-joint burning down to your knuckles.

        The burning wasn't what made you tense or kick or blow your eyes wide. It was fear. 

        He took the joint back quick, let go of you quicker, muttered, "Sorry."

        You fell back onto your elbows. Wrist still tingling with the ghost of his touch, the ghost of a memory. So many hands on you. So many bad things. Mostly, the rebar, the dirty bit digging into the skin around your mouth. It was the same, just prettier now around your neck. It's twin in your brain stem. 

        You rolled up, head first, almost bumped into him. "He put a chip in my head, that's why I was mad." Your fingers wrapped around your own wrist, tracing your fingers over where he'd grabbed so you wouldn't have to look at Seb's face.

        He thought of Sebastian on his knees. Whatever that brain-thing could do to him would blow your head to slurry. "Are you serious?" Obviously you were, he tried again, "Like those guys?"

        "No." You said, somehow understanding what he meant, "Just shocks me like this thing." You smacked the centered metal heart. It stayed as still as the ship on the horizon. "Mark found out I could do hand stuff so he," you vaguely gestured, soupy-brained. Seb still understood. So concerned he didn't even giggle at 'hand stuff'. "Then he thought I was a spy for a sec and was all like," you made your voice gravely and snide, "'I'm gonna fuck you sooo hard you stop being a spy,' but I literally wasn't and-" You rubbed your fingers into your nose bridge. Voice normal, said, "Then you found me and were being a selfish dickhead and it's like, man, can I ever catch a break?"

        Huffily, "I just wanted to apologize, I literally said I was sorry in that conversation."

        You shouldn't, but you nursed the drink. Wanted to yell, but you mumbled instead, "You're lucky I'm too drunk to kick your ass right now." Going down, it tasted worse than the G. Your head only got lighter, helium-filled. 

        His voice pinched. "What? I literally did!" 

        "Yeah, that's great and all, but I had brain surgery twenty minutes before."

        Your lilting voice pissed him off. Your head on your knees. Your grip so loose on the can it looked ready to fall. So vulnerable and defenseless and somehow, you made him feel stupid by comparison. Wholly unprepared for this conversation.

        It came out hot as the next lit joint, a steady supply stuffed into the waistband of his shorts. "Literally, how the fuck was I supposed to know that? You're a bitch most-" He paused. Your head rose. Lips curled back, tongue unsheathed and ready to cut him. He put his hands up in surrender faster than you could reply, "Lemme start over."

        ***

        The video feed was grainy, zoomed all the way in from two solar systems east. The closest working camera under the empire's rule. Again, Mark watched the distant dot that was Ferr flash and expand. Once a planet, now another space fire to burn for ten thousand years. 

        In his ears, the council jabbered.

        "Sir, we've received another angle of the explosion." But it was just even grainier footage from another planetary body away.

        "Thula, see if you can get any of the backup satellites on Ferr's minor moons online." Because all the Viltrum-made tech, hell, all of the tech, had gone down. According to Kregg, it'd been down for days. It made sense they only found out about the explosion now, light could only travel so fast even through their advanced lenses. 

        What else had the empire lost? 

        Yornsil, which primarily grew grains, Rarnsick, cattle product, Goll, the second biggest farm powerhouse in the west sect. All gone.

        Footage of their implosions on even shittier camera feeds. They'd been gone longer than Ferr. Caught minutes before Ferr's much more dramatic fireball. It was coordinated. Precise. 

        "Who did this?" Mark stepped forward until his hip hit the table. Even with his soggy shorts flush to it, he couldn't see a ship, an attack. Up close, the grain was worse. 

        "The Coalition." Vidor spat on instinct. 

        "No," The words came out hot and fast like grease bubbling off a pan, "We've taken care of every nearby Coalition bunker, that's not possible. They couldn't get this close to so many of our colonies without us knowing."

        Thula nodded along, "They're cowards, but they've never taken such dispirit measures."

        Kregg's brows were held in an eternal knot. He worked the hologram from a video to an admin feed. Planets parsed into click and expand boxes. "If I send for ships to head to the east sect now for food, we can have an emergency delivery to the hungry colonies. While they do that," his words slowed but not his fingers, inputting commands quick as lightning, "We can return to Ferr. Find whomever is responsible. Reestablish control over the region. There's bound to be word and minor rebellion. We'll-"

        "Reestablish what?" Conquest floated out of the Mark flock by the door. "'S'all gone."

        Kregg switched back to the video feed, pointed out pixel-sized dots, "Some minor planets in the belt survived. We can get them back in orbit and reactivate their satellites. We'll be able to see what has happened. Whoever's responsible will have fled. Nobody fears the empire more than those who strike against it." He switched screens to the overarching 3D map of the west sect. "We must re-cement our hold." He opened the ship's pathing menu, selected the still intact model of Ferr and-

        "No," Mark said.

        Kregg's finger hovered over the button that would cancel the rest of the warpath, the next stop would be Ferr at warp speed. "Sir. Forgive me for speaking out, but we must fix this."

        "There's no salvaging that, you fucking idiot." His cold tenor took the room down five degrees. Hands slowed on data-pads, but with a sharp look, started moving again. 

        Kregg paled, "You asked who did this, they're either waiting to be crushed or left a clue. We can find them and reestablish food production-"

        "Just give me a fucking second." Mark held up his hand, and Kregg held his tongue. He tapped the controls and overtook Kregg's inputs. Back, back, back, until he was staring blankly at the 3D map again. His brain buzzed, the joy from the day torn away, leaving the taste of meat on his tongue, face still sun-warmed. Stranded in the desert again. 

        Dad would've known what to do, or at least looked like he did. Mark just stood there, catching flies. Wondering. 

        "I agree, General." Gray separated from the flock, hands locked behind his back. "However," he stopped beside Mark, face cool and uncracked, "Abandoning the warpath makes us look weak."

        Mark's discordant mind clung to Gray's words. He was after all, Mark. A Mark who actually worked with Dad, who loved him. 

        "The starving colonies are workers, loyal to the empire. We can not allow them to die." Kregg gripped the table edge so hard the metal groaned. "Lest we lose a large fraction of other lines of production. That is weakness."

         "I'm not saying we abandon them. We send in officers not stationed on this ship." Gray said.

        "And let whoever did this get away?" Kregg snapped.

        "Someone will take credit publicly, soon." Markus had seen enough villains of the week to know, terrorists loved the limelight.

        "But-"

        "If I may," Markus didn't wait for permission. Mark wouldn't like that. He had to be decisive, strong, trustworthy. "We must consider the optics, General." He slipped forward, shoring up Mark's other side. "If our enemies see the emperor's warship turn around for something as simple as this, they'll get ideas."

        Ideas that finally clicked into place in Mark's head. 

        "Ferr being destroyed is not the minor issue you're making it out to be," Kregg said. "If there is more rebellion, we stomp it out. We can send officers to finish the warpath. Ferr's destruction is a declaration of war, we must-"

        "Send in Anissa." Mark had the screen up to the short list of officers left alive. Each with a photo, name, constantly updated coordinates, vitals. Two sets of vitals were gone now. A chunk of their tiny force, gone.

        When Kregg saw that screen, all he saw were his children. Toddlers now, brats all of them. But he envisioned them as adults, working for the cause so proudly, dead. Gone. It made his chest ache. Whoever did this must be dealt with to the highest degree.

        "Excellent idea, Emperor Mark, she'll finish the warpath beautifully." Slowly, albeit without the aid of comrades, but if any battleaxe could do it, she could.

        "To Ferr." Mark selected her profile, sent a ping to her data pad. 

        Kregg's jaw dropped so stupidly that Ollie had to suppress a laugh. "Sir, we can't send a lone Viltrumite, she'll-"

        "Kregg. Shut the fuck up." It was a full-body effort not to scream. It'd be fine, Mark told himself. The birthday party would have to end early, he was being greedy, hoping for two days off. He had Markus and Gray. It'd be fine.

        Vidor, who had not been told to shut the fuck up, opened his mouth, "Isn't Anissa working the furthest north we've ever gone? She's fast, but it'll be a long time before she can get to Ferr."

        Again, Mark was pinned to the spot. The longer he went without reply, the less and less he lived up to his Father's legacy. The more he wanted to split Vidor's head in half.

        "Instead of the ship, we send members of the council." Mark heard Dad's voice in Markus'. Saw the dark circles and gray hairs and thought he was seeing a ghost. "We were advertised as the new faces of the warpath, we can upkeep it while you investigate." He let his arms come out from his sides, gestured to the others behind him. Sebastian stiff by the door, standing proud but wishing he'd rolled his shorts down. Ollie in a makeshift G-string beside him was unbothered. Grayson by the table taking it all in with eyes too interested.

        "As long as we play this carefully, rebels will only pay attention to us, not your absence." Markus looked from one council member to the next, "Ferr's and the other planet's destruction is inconsequential to the wider rebel network. They have no way of knowing what each colony constitutes. We make no waves, our optics stay the same, and Viltrum remains strong."

        The light changed from pale blue to red and tan. The map was gone but nobody had switched menus. Mark hadn't fat fingered a call to a distant officer, but a strong Viltrumite face was on the screen with a clean, flat top. Necks craned back to meet his projected eyes. Tiny, black pits that focused on a faraway point and the whole room at once.

        The old timers didn't gasp for anything but this. Hands going instructively over mouths as they had as cria before shows of surprise were trained out of them.

        "Those who are a part of the empire-" Mark had only heard the guy talk a handful of times, but his inflection was always the same. As if he was addressing a room full of people, even if it was one on one. "-and those who will be: this is a message for you."

        Mark's mind melted and solidified into the shape of his name, Thragg.

        ***

        You watched unimpressed, waiting for him to start over.

        Seb's fingers flexed around the new joint, quarter smoked. "I just-" The words he'd planned didn't come out, instead, "Shit." He rubbed the heel of his hand into his eye, squinted at the ship. Had to remind himself there was only so much time to talk, to fix this instead of letting it sit and regretting it later like he had over and over again before you. Reminders didn't make him any better at talking. "I like-" You were watching him, assessing, making his chest hot and throat tight, he coughed the rest out, "Wanna know what happened but like, I won't be an asshole this time."

        It hurt, the way you considered him so skeptically. 

        You held back only in the regard that being drunk made you a terrible storyteller. Meandering on stupid details, muddying the timeline with another, "Wait, did we have sex before or after that?" He got the gist, even with all the details you left out- like the colors of the flowers in Markus's room or the grand escape plans. Trust like that didn't come with a shitty 'sorry'.

        High tide had come in, you sat through it, talking. Glittering water to the tops of your thighs, cool and clear.

        When you were done, vodka can emptied and tossed away, all he could say was, "Jesus Christ, I feel like such an asshole." As soon as he said it, he wanted to jump off a bridge. Made it about himself, again.

        "How do you think I feel?" 

        "Shitty."

        "Yeah." Your eyes wandered back to the horizon, he couldn't tell if you were trying to avoid looking at him. "But today wasn't bad. I mean, it's gonna be bad when we get back. It sounded bad, Mark's angry." You scored your fingers through sand. Making patterns that filled back up as the water pushed the grains back in, fruitless. Looking anywhere but Seb's face, pitying, as if there was anything he could do. 

        "He shouldn't be angry at you," Seb said the obvious. Robotically. Trying to get his feet back under him because God, he'd been so stupid and up his own ass. "Should be angry at like, aliens or something."

        "I know, but I'm an asshole and I can't keep my mouth shut, so we're just gonna-" You shrugged, drew another x in the sand that was washed away.

        "Instead of shocking you, he should like, get a job. Actin' like he owns you. His ass doesn't even own a bank account. If that were me, I'd not do that and give you a stupid, crazy allowance. Like, yeah babe, go buy out all the glee-glorb from those aliens- you know?" 

        Rex would've laughed full belly. You gave him a half-smirk. He'd been talking too long. Too off track. Too stupid. 

        You said, "If you were in charge, I think we'd all be dead."

        "Aww, come on, half of us would be dead, not all of us."

        Your brows rose with your slight smile. Not as big as it would've been had he not ruined everything. "Definitely all of us." His stomach twisted when you turned to the ship, "Can't believe we're doin' almost another month on that thing before we're on the ground again." It didn't matter how long you were on Viltrum's time scale, fifty hours would always be two days and change. "It's gonna be so shitty dude, I can feel it."

        "We can make it less shitty by hanging out again." He kept his face passive, like if he looked too hopeful you'd shoot him down.

        The gears turned molasses slow in your head. Maybe that space weed had done something. Made you softer at the edges, the kind of person that didn't say, "Man, fuck off," but instead, "I'd like that."

        He cracked a smile, always finding something to whine about even though you'd said exactly what he'd wanted. "Your boyfriends won't."

        A gentle wave pushed you back, pulled you forward. Legs uncrossing as you fluttered forward. "If I can deal with a shock collar, Mark can deal with me having a friend."

        Seb's jaw twitched, "You sure about that?" Another wave, another rock, uncertainty. You unanchored from the sand and drifted. "Uh? You good?"

        "I wanna go swimming." 

        The others would've stopped you or chased you into a riptide. Seb said, "Okay yeah, let's swim."

        From above, you looked like two lazy otters, more drifting than swimming. Talking about nothing in circles as the shore ebbed away. Slowly, the high sunk in like the cold to your bones. Not frostbite frigid, but to the point where everything was hard, and Seb's running commentary got less and less funny with time. You were blasted, it should be hilarious- Seb's story about skinny dipping in some Miami fiance-bro's back deck pool. Maybe it would've been funny if you weren't convinced your legs had gotten frostbite. That they weren't kicking as strongly anymore, though you saw them move. That you weren't slowly sinking. Too high and dumb to thrash.

        You were lifted out of the water like a greedy cat from a milk bowl, dripping and shivering. Your legs cycled a few seconds longer, nothing to stand or tread on. Stupidly watching the water drift further and further away, mildly convinced you'd died and your soul was ascending.

        Except angels didn't talk like, "Dude, are you greening out right now?"

        You hung from Seb's arms, doubled over, meat on a hook. Under the string of your bikini top, arms held you, pointedly not dotted with eyes and fire. Behind you, he was as warm as a hearth. If you were sober, you might've sighed, melted into him. You're not. You wrapped your legs around his and reached back, locking your arms around his neck. Tell him, "Don't drop me, holy shit."

        "Wasn't planning on it." 

        And it was three years ago.

       A new strain of shit meant for supes, Rex called the murky rocks, sold to him in a ziplock baggie. Seb took it, just to curb Rex's whining, saying, "Maybe this is the one that can actually get you high again." He'd come around after Seb's confession, for a while moping about all the drugs Seb did but never got high off.

        It didn't, but Rex projectile vomited all over the Teen Team's third-floor bathroom. Then curled in a pukey, naked ball saying, "I'm gonna fuckin' die in this place."

        Eve came in, hours later, towel slung over her shoulder. "Jesus, guys."

        Rex buried his head deeper into Seb's neck and whined. Seb said, "It's cool."

        He heard himself say it now, "It's cool." He reached for your hands around his neck. Your grip tightened, "I've got you. 'M not gonna drop ya, just gonna make you more comfortable."

        You let him awkwardly puppeteer you. One arm cradling your back, the other under the bend of your knees. Your arms stayed around his neck, just looser, more like a scarf than bike lock. Your breathing evened out, but the goose flesh didn't go. Finally, you leaned into him, sucking as much warmth from his bare chest as possible. "Thanks for not..."

        "Being a dick? First time for me, I know." His laugh shook you a little. "I used to get super paranoid whenever I smoked."

        "And now?" Head on his shoulder, you could smell the smoke stuck on his skin. Sweeter than it tasted.

        His head shifted down. Sunglasses canted down his nose, revealing red rimmed eyes, "Chills me out now. I am like, so zen right now." Under the burgeoning moon, his hair was silver. "Probably the most I've been in awhile."

        "Is that why you finally talked to me?" Under your ear, his heart picked up.

        "What? No." He scoffed, "I just like to smoke." 

        Your eyes, twin to his, crinkled as you smiled. "You're so full of shit."

         He looked away, hot faced. "I'm not- Whoa." He turned his body, pointed you toward a bioluminescent bloom on the horizon. "Do you see that?"

        "I shouldn't let you change the subject, but, yeah, I see it."

        Half a minute later, you were hovering over a nightly migration to the surface. Coiled tendrils hung off translucent bodies, skin transparent, glowing cyan shining through. Their organs were delicate, working glass. Catching food or oxygen or moonlight, lazy as could be. More kept coming from the depths, their population stretched out in loose pockets for miles, islands of blue. 

        Seb lowered until his legs were radioactive blue. "I don't think I'll ever get used to other aliens."

        A thick thread of a body passed below, smooth flesh skirting out of the water. More of them splashing to the surface as they competed for moonlight. "I don't think I will either." You tried to hike yourself higher on his chest.

        "It's not gonna try to eat us. Trust me, a ton of shit's tried to eat me before, nine outta ten times it's not a weird jellyfish." He reached out with his toe, touching one. Instantly, it jerked away and zipped into the black. "Yeah, it's not hungry." He retracted.

        The blank space was filled moments after with smaller, drifting creatures. "Don't scare the rest of I wanna see 'em. View's pretty."

        "Yeah." In his arms, you were all cool colors. Each one of your fingers threaded behind his nape, hairs pulling between your knuckles. He didn't care. Just wanted more of you posed in his hold, where he could feel the loosening and tightening of your muscles, know how you were feeling without words. You knew too, could hear how he felt. "It is." He wasn't looking at the water.

        For a long time, you were one shadow over the sea. 

       "If I could," he started when the moon was another inch higher and he couldn't take another second of you not saying something back, "I'd live in a beach house and see stuff like this every night." He'd never thought that before, but it wasn't a lie. The longer the words sat, the more real it became. Board shorts every day, mimosas, wooden painted placards that said 'beach babes only', no other dickheads, just you, him, and a million flamingo floaty toys.

        You turned to him, hand out, sun out, smiling but said in a voice that only came out with exhaust and space weed, "For such a big beach dude, you didn't swim a lot today." 

        He blinked, and it was night and he knew he couldn't have it. "Didn't want Sebastian to maul me again for lookin' at you." He snapped. Under your hand, his body was a rubber band about to break. It twitched, shuddered, forced itself to loosen, "I'm..." He cleared his throat, made his voice softer, "Sorry for all the shit I said."

        He would've felt vindicated if, after fellatio, Mark had found him and skinned him alive. Instead, he got housework, shitty jobs, jabbing. Slaps on the wrist that made Dad look like a saint. The longer it went on, the stupider he'd known he'd been. The lonelier. Sorry, didn't feel like enough. You seemed to think the same thing, regarding him quietly.

        "I uh- rocked Sebastian's shit pretty hard earlier. Dunno if you saw his teeth."

        "I did."

        "That was uh- That was for you." God, he felt like Rex feeding girls lines. "And me!" Seb blurted, "He was staring at me with this insane boner. I didn't even know our dick could get that hard. It was really gross. So I was like, 'hey stop having that boner', and punched him cuz he was being..." Musing about Sebastian's fantasies was deeply uncool, he realized, "Think if we got into another real fight, I'd take his ass down."

        Your arms tightened around his neck, "I'd help if I could."

        "You could hit him with a volleyball?"

          You both laughed. Ending when you said, "I'm more worried about Mark. If he finds us like this... I dunno, you kinda had a point even if you were being a huge asshole."

      "Mark? Psssh. That guy'll make me fold laundry. Trust me, I can handle him." 

        "I dunno. He's only really gotten cool with Markus and Gray recently-"

        "Excuse me? Since when?" Honestly, he'd thought Sebastian was full of shit. "Are you guys like, what's the four version of a throuple?"

        "We're not-" You scoffed, but you still smiled, "I mean, kinda? It's weird. Mark is super weird."

        Seb laughed, threw his head back to the night sky. The one he waxed poetic about running away to. The stars and a friend was all he needed to lose himself and his tongue, "Dude, you are such a slut it's awesome." His head and heart dropped. Why did he just say that?

        "Okay, one, fuck you." Under you, he cringed, "Two, you should'a seen me in high school." He relaxed.

        He gaped, stupidly, but the words came out, easy and natural, "Really?" With a reluctant smile.

        "No, after the breakup, I got like, zero play for years." You shrugged, "This is the most I've actually dated in forever. Being a slut is kinda awesome if I don't think about the whole evil empire part."

        He let out a long breath, "Dude, dating is such bullshit. Being a slut is where it's at."

        "And you know that because?"

        "I'm like, the world's biggest slut." You giggled, he continued, "Swear to God, I've got like seven kids." 

       "What." Your smile was gone, maybe that wasn't the funny joke he thought it was. He had to back track.

        "Not on purpose, but dude, when my Dad gave me the talk? He was like," his impression was so far off from what you knew from Nolan, but still felt right, "'Never cum in a girl or she will get mega pregnant. Condoms and IUD's and sixteen rounds of plan B won't do shit against our superior sperm.' Mind you, I'm like eight. So, I get older, I start fuckin'. I'm wearin' rubbers, I'm like 'ya got birth control,' but dude, I am so bad about not nutting in people. I gave all those girls I hooked up with the wrong number, and I was strategic, okay? I flew around a lot. I never hit the same town twice. Like, statistically, I've gotta be a Dad." 

        You'd heard a lot of fucked up shit working for Machine Head but this made top of the list. "And you never went back to check?"

        He sucked on his lips, "What would I say? Hey, we fucked six months ago, just making sure you're not pregnant?"

        "I mean, yeah? Or maybe lead with the fact condoms don't work."

        "Look- look-" He was losing you. "It's like Schrodinger's baby, okay? Also, Dad was probably doing that parent thing where they lie like 'if you have sex your dick's gonna fall off and you're gonna die.'" 

        You made a face. "I think you're the first absent father version of Mark Grayson."

        Breath came out hard against your forehead, "What would you know about absent fathers?"

        Just to wipe the look off his face, "Enough."

        There's a standstill. A no-man's-land of things to say. Vulnerabilities to share. So soon. Too soon. 

        Seb held up a white flag, "Okay, okay, let's not go there." Not now. Not when thinking about Dad made him insufferable. Later. There would always be later.

        The jellies kept floating on. They would until the sun came up and their predators came out. Over and over, with you here or not.

        "Wanna go smoke some more?" You asked. "Or will it kill me?"

        He turned for the shore, a slim line in the distance, "Viltrum Google said you should be fine up to like, thirty ounces. I think that's a lot. Just pace yourself and like, maybe don't drink anymore."

        "Who are you, Markus?" 

        "Nah, nah, just don't want you to OD. Silly me."

        "Wait, did you... research if I could smoke with you or not?"

        He sped over the water, turning it to blue-black stripes. "What? I can't hear you over all the wind." 

        ***

        "The Hybrid Mutt that sits on my throne and calls himself the Emperor has failed you," Thragg said, loud and proud over the speaker system. Drowning out all the sound in the room. "Once, I tried to guide him. In return, he graciously attempted to assassinate me. He failed, like he so often does."

        In the sliver of space behind Thragg's massive head and collarbone, there was gold and lavender. A wall or throne, too close to tell. No distinct details, no servants, no neon sign that said 'projecting from here' with a list of coordinates. Purposeful, down to how little of his bronze chest plate he let show.

        "The Mutt's forces are spread thin and ill-equipped. I was able to easily infiltrate planets under his protection. Not a soul came to defend them, and those who were there posed no threat. Anyone competent enough to run the empire would not have made it such." 

        Lucan and Thula were scrambling to get a signal trace, but it'd be no use. Thragg knew the empire like the back of his gnarled hand, he wouldn't let himself be caught by not encrypting the feed.

        "The western sector of the galaxy shall starve due to his incompetence. Nobody will come for you. Help is simply too far and too busy. The Mutt is close, but he will not come. He will let you die under his leadership before he steps down to allow mine. Remember, as so many of you starve, under my rule there would be no such weak points, even if I were to ever again be absent."

        Mark was a teenager again. Body buzzing with power, pushed to the limit like never before. Dad dead. Mom dead. A universe promised to him, but that red-loving asshole wouldn't move off his throne. Looking down his nose, saying, "You're not ready." 

        The council had been shooed away. To protest in a later meeting where Thragg would lie to them all.

        "The fuck do you mean I'm not ready? I killed the Emperor, shit lips."

        "Precisely." Thragg said, "You are foolhardy and quick to anger. Your humanity has made you weak. You need at least a thousand years of training before you can even begin to-"

        "Are you forgetting the part where you fuckin' told him to kill me for the throne and I killed him instead?"

        Mark gaped, past and present. Swears thick in his throat, blocking each other from bubbling out. His fists clenching, his chest tightening. Thragg's bullshit unending. "The only Viltrumite trait The Mutt has is resilience. He will run you into the ground. My returned rule will save you from that suffering."

        "Cut-" Kregg spluttered, "Cut the universal feed!"

        "I'm trying." Vidor's fingers were blurs, but accomplishing nothing. Grayson tapped away but knew, this guy was good. Better than him. Grander. The best possible thing. A distraction.

        "I come for the heart of the Empire. Prepare."

        Blue projected topology returned. Everyone stared like fish at the map, his sudden departure leaving a red smear on all their retinas. Fingers halted. They could pretend to look, make sounds to draw Mark's attention onto them, but nobody wanted that. Not when his teeth were bared and grinding.

        The silence went on, thick and forever. Until Mark let out half a laugh, mouth stretching into a pale, lipless smile, "Hey, Kregg?"

        ***

        You shivered, even in the shawl. Legs tucked under you, sat on the sand just outside of the tide's reach. You could've gone inland to the tents, but you wanted to stay. Suffer in cold for the pretty view. 

        "D'ya want me to start a fire or somethin'?" Seb came from behind, shaking sand off Sebastian's unused towel. 

         "N-no, I'm fine." You shook, pulled the shawl tighter over your shoulders. 

        Seb knelt, "Don't look like it." He wrapped the towel like a cotton blanket around you. Hugging it closed while he tried to tie a knot to secure it.

        Instant relief was his skin through layers. "Holy shit, you're hot." You leaned into his warmth. 

        "I've been told."

        "Shut up and hold me before I freeze."

        Seb dropped to his ass and let you practically crawl onto his lap. Shift this way and that, push him around until you were comfortable. He felt more like a cat bed than a person. But he didn't tell you to stop because you were leaning against his chest, all hunched up in a towel, his arms snug over your sides.

        You yawned, burrowed deeper into him, "I could fall asleep like this." Warm and pleasantly light headed.

        "Should probably wait till you're in bed." He pulled another doobie from his waistband. The umpteenth of the day, but he still never got as sky high as he did before the powers.

        Your lids were heavy with exhaust and drink but you kept them open, "All things considered, it's a nice bed."

        "Gotta be better than mine. Shit's like a brick." Seb said, "But man, is it a brick I can not stop going back to." He stopped himself from feeding you a line. Pivoted, made himself broody, not the kind of guy who flirts after the friend de-breakup. The ship hadn't moved, though the moon had risen inches higher. "We're really goin' back to that super shitty brick." 

        "You got to stop calling everything a brick but," another sigh, this time bone tired, "yeah. We are going back on the shit brick."

        He cracked a complimentary smirk, "I mean, at least you've got friends to get you through the shit brick." 

        "God, please stop."

        He mumbled, blunt between his lips. "You're doing it too." He struck it, smacked your face with hot wind.

        "Cuz you're-" You shook your head, "Whatever. The others aren't really my friends." All of them fell somewhere on the kidnapper to strange boytoy scale. Cool as some of them were, you'd never gotten the chance to just piss around with them. To ever be anything other than pre-labeled as theirs. "You are."

        That struck him like a- Seb laughed to himself a moment to keep from feeling the impact. The violent shattering of his persona when your eyes were soft on him. Vulnerable and so easy to get sucked into. He saw possibilities. Good ones but mostly bad, ones where you were dead and he was burned again, fucking it up for himself like he always did.

        He sucked in, out, smoke blown away from you. "Just friends?" Came out in a sultry tone before he could think. Easy to slip into like an old pair of shoes. Easier than saying how he really felt. 

        Your face fell. Familiar. Like all the other girls before, realizing he was shallow as a tide pool. You knew better. Had seen beyond the walls. He told himself you couldn't get past it with compliments, not cursing, or insulting, or picks or hammers. That you wouldn't push and let him be comfortable in fuckboy-isms. Assume his vulnerability was a white whale and never hunt it down. 

        You pushed, of course you did, "You know, I thought maybe you were just an asshole because we were starving to death, but you're just like this, huh?"

        Seb shifted, felt sand move under the towel. "I was definitely worse out there." He still dreamed of sand, sun, skin so dry it cracked blood for him to lick. Everytime he woke he had to make sure it was gone. Not a grain between his toes.

         "I dunno. I can't stop thinking about that place, so I try to think about the good parts, like listening to music with you or listening to you bitch about your hammock." You might as well have strapped TNT to him and let it blow.

        For once, he didn't lazily smirk or roll his eyes or force nonchalance. His lips dumbly dropped, brows making waves on his forehead. "It was a nice hammock."

        You chuckled, "No, it wasn't."

        "Yeah," his smile returned, but it was genuine without a forced cocky tilt, "it was kinda terrible." 

        Into his oozing heart space, you said, "I miss being your friend." Your head thunked against his shoulder. "Even if you're an asshole."

        Could you hear his heart through the layers? Did you know how it skipped? Did he even have to say it now?

        Without his mouth locked in check, it moved on its own, "With benefits?"

        You sighed, deep and full-bodied, "Oh my God, dude. The benefit is getting to talk to me again." It was a joke that came out nippy. Voice hard like you were going to leave. Fine, leave like Eve through the roof. He'd help, he'd knock you down a peg. You weren't all that, you were- You were. 

        Seb pulled his lips in and sucked them raw. Kept them there while his brain broiled over with all the worst things. It'd be so easy to say. So easy to push you away and never feel so exposed again. To run.

        Your head lifted, "What?" 

        He let his lips open, "Nothing."

        Your brow knotted, "You sure?"

        On your back, his hand fluttered back and forth, batting something invisible away, "Nah, nah, I'm try'na be nice."

        "Trying to be?" You asked, testily.

        You'd leave him in the dust without a second chance. Be with someone else, someone better. You could have a better man like that. If he were less selfish, he'd tell you that. Bravery was a theme tonight, but he'd never have balls that brassy.

        He bit his tongue till it throbbed, and he was sure he wouldn't say something stupid. Tongue thick, he said, "Just like... ignore the last few minutes. Ya'know? I'm trying really hard not to be a dick."

        Under his hands and the towel, your body and mouth eased. "Look at you, caring."

        "Of course I care, I like you." He went white. "L-like I care about you, ya'know?"

        ***

        "Why isn't he dead?" Mark's face was bloodless white. Tight and ghastly.

        Sweat beaded on Kregg's back. "I- I'm unsure, Sir."

        "Really? Cuz you were the one that told me a Viltrumite couldn't survive a shot to the heart." The light of the map did little to soften Mark's coal-hard glare. 

        Kregg's throat tightened but he kept his voice strong. "We can't."

       "That’s interesting, because the guy whose heart I literally punched a hole through was just on my screen, saying he was going to take over my empire." Snarled through a wall of teeth.

        None of them had seen Mark so hard, so like his Father could be since she died. Even then, he was softer than this. Mopey and always on the verge of meltdown. Now the air around him chilled.

        "It's not possible." Every word Kregg used was a waste of breath he felt like he couldn't get back, "The cold and blood loss would have sent him into hibernation; he would've asphyxiated in space."

        "The motherfucker didn't asphyxiate." Mark moved behind Gray, slow, steady. Body buzzing with sudden energy that needed to be released in one sure strike over Kregg's throat. "Why is that?"

        Kregg saw death coming in swim shorts and didn't move. Certainly, the emperor would not act so rashly. "I am not sure, Sir."

        "You keep saying that." Mark's arm came down to his side. Elbow and shoulder locked, palm a flat, blunt blade. "Is it cuz you want to pretend to die with honor? Dunno how Thragg's alive, my ass, you told me that was the best way to dispose of him. Who'd you have waitin' out there to fix 'im up? Thaedus?"

        The emperor was not his father, he could and would act rashly. Kregg would not stoop to backing away. "I am no Thaedus." Mark came closer, would rush forward any moment. "I would not betray the empire for something as foolish as an old ally."

        Mark raised his arm, "You must think I'm stupid if you-"

      "Emperor Mark." Markus. "If General Kregg was part of Thragg's plans, the empire would've already been lost."

        Mark spun on his heels, primed with violence, ready to snap, "Then how is he alive?"

        Markus spoke with cool authority, "The spy on the observation deck may have had a hand. Perhaps there are others on this ship, but I do not believe it is anybody in this room." Mark's eyes shifted, impossibly toward Ka-Thala, to you. "Or anyone close to us. There are many cameras on the ship. Many opportunities to catch suspicious behavior, and nobody significant has exhibited any. A wider investigation can be launched after we figure out our next steps."

        If anybody thought to check Grayson's vitals, they'd see his heart rate hammering like he'd just won a battle. So different from his mask of a face. Sebastian wore it worse, a scowl like he'd already been caught out. But like before, nobody paid him any mind.

        Mark looked for deceit in Markus's face. For secrets. For a ship sent out under his nose, though he'd never met Thragg. He found nothing but his Mother's brown eyes. Mom had been a liar too, she'd known. That's why she had to die too. Markus couldn't possibly know. Mark let his arm drop.

        "Sir," Kregg spoke to Mark's concrete back, "we must decide a course of action immediately. I still suggest emergency rations but we can also-"

        The laugh came out Mark's throat, not his belly, not with any real joy, just acidic mockery. "I was going to kill you, and all you care about is food."

        "I'm just trying to remain useful, Sir." While the rest of the council stayed quiet, still as statues. Biding their time until Mark was more malleable. 

        More laughter with mimed chest shakes and a wiped tear that wasn't there. "When was the last time you did anything useful, Kregg?"

        ***

        The tide continued to climb higher up, the sand lapping once again at Seb's heels. He could sink into the ocean, curl in a ball, but then he'd have to leave you, and you'd start to shiver again.

        He was teetering on a familiar edge. 

        Nine months, that's all Dad gave him to train for takeover. Of course, he ran, and of course, he told Rex. Of course, Rex didn't believe him, but followed him to Queens anyway. Assumed it was just his parents' impending divorce weighing on him. Assumed it was Seb's roundabout way of finally making a move. Solidifying the wispy thing they had in his usual avoidant way.

        Living together was fun and stupid and filthy. Cheap rent, lots of roaches, but none of Cecil's microphones or Eve's drug flushing. They couldn't work with the team anymore, Seb was in hiding from his Dad, and Rex didn't want to leave him. They curbed questions from Eve via text, "We just wanted to strike out on our own a little," and "No, we're not like, dating." Nobody asked the right questions. Everything went on as normal. It was hard to believe that it'd really happen.

        But it did.

       Dad killed the first billion as spring came around. Killed Cecil Stedman and his cronies, everyone who was left skittered underground. He found Seb in Rex's pajamas beside the man himself, trying to keep the people of New York safe. 

        Seb's fists whitened at the sight of him. Knowing it was time to take responsibility. Like any good father, Nolan had some leniency in him, "Don't look at me like that. You're not as good at hiding things as you think you are" He hadn't cared before. A human son was nothing to watch over, but a Viltrumite boy needed monitoring. "If you do your job like you're told, I'll let you keep the pet." Just like he planned to keep Mom. Didn't matter what her human divorce papers said, she didn't have a choice. Neither did Seb.

        Rex sneered, "No fuckin' way, m-" Dad had him by the throat, high in the sky, where he wouldn't survive if Dad let go. 

        Seb shot up, screaming, "No! Please! He'll listen, Dad, stop!"

        Just because of that keening obedience, that desperation that even breaking Seb's ribs didn't bring out in him- Dad shoved Rex into Seb's arms. Said, "Keep your pet in line and stay out of my way."

        He nodded, empathically but said nothing. 

        Then Dad was gone. Rex heaved, "There's not a divorce, is there?"

        "No, there is, but there's this too."

        "Awesome."

        They watched Dad plow through the city. Cut heroes in half, heroes better trained than them, smarter, stronger. And they let it happen, watching from Burger Mart LLC's rooftop.

        "Is there... anything we can do at all?" Rex spoke quietly, like he'd wake the fresh dead.

        "The people who could've done something are dead." He flew them in silence back to Queens.

        Dad made it clear, their end of the work started soon; once Dad had a few thousand fertile humans set aside for breeding. More than enough to go around for the Viltrumites when they came. They were on the way. Expected Earth to be tamed when they touched down.

        They tried to listen, to tame the masses and their own instincts to run. Turn their brains off, but when Seb killed Shape Smith, reality set in.

        "What the fuck, dude?!" 

        Seb pulled his fist out of green goop. Shape Smith fell in a wet heap. "You heard my Dad. We gotta do it or he's gonna kill us too."

        Rex went quiet. No quips could cover the fact that Seb was right. And God, he didn't want to die young. 

        City scraps with dudes in latex was fun, this was slaughter.

        But at least Rex got to live. To help. To suffer with him in killing the people he swore to defend. They whittled slowly through the population. Seb flying them city to city, nation to nation, slow enough so Rex's skin didn't burn off. Dad called them pathetic, said the empire ships would be here soon. That they wouldn't be happy to do the rest of Seb's work. 

        In what little way he could, Seb resisted. Went slower. Slept his full eight hours holed up in the Teen Team's desolate tower with Rex. The apartment crumbled in one of Dad's first raids. So they had to move back to their old abandoned home. It still smelled like Robot's grease and Kate's perfume.

        Garbage piled up. The water didn't work anymore. It rank like a fox den without Eve to clean everything down to the atom. They missed Eve, but at least she got away. If they never saw her again, she'd get to live, and they hoped it stayed that way.

        Through the grapevine of desperate pleas from people about to die, they learned about the resistance underground. They took the fight to the metros. Collapsing tunnels while Rex quipped at the few supes left, "Sorry man, I gotta free ride. You know how it is!" His laugh was forced. Everything now, was forced.

        Weeks passed. The empire grew closer. The population smaller.

        Rex's room caved in. They slept in the living room now.

        Staring at the ceiling, Rex said, "If you just let me go, I could join them. I could help. Let them come. They trust you, turn on the motherfuckers. We could-"

        Seb's tooth had grown back, but his gums still throbbed in memory. He hadn't used the time to train like he should have. "We won't win."

        Rex's shoulders drooped. "We gotta try."

        "The Guardians tried. Dad killed 'em."

        "Your dad...?"

        "Yeah. It was him. Best they did to him was break his ribs. We've got no chance."

        Rex went to the other side of the couch with the only clean-ish blanket, he turned toward the cushions, buried his nose in the cracks to try and hide from their reality. A piece of roof crumbled down behind them. The sight of his back, more than anything, pissed Seb off.

        "Don't just lay there." No response. "Jesus fucking Christ, don't be such a pussy! Dad says the empire's gonna make it better! They're gonna fix all the pollution and war and crap." He said it more to himself as mantra, a comfort, easy. They both knew he didn't give a fuck about carbon emissions.

        "Do you even know how to spell pollution, dude?"

        "Look, we're doing what we have to, to survive." 

        "We killed my girlfriend, Seb." The rebound since Eve still wouldn't get back with him. She never would now. Rex should've been happy. Living alone with the person he wanted. No girls to make each other jealous with. But this just sucked. Rex thought he got away from killing when he escaped the lab all those years ago. Told himself he could handle it again, but it just made him feel like a miserable kid.

        "Rae was trying to kill us!"Along with Robot and Kate and Immortal and all those other assholes who got away from Omni-Man in the first assault. Who were somehow stupider than Rex Splode for once in their lives. "Probably cuz you ghosted her for months to be with me." There was a beat of a quiet honesty, then, "You didn't even like her that much!"

        "I liked her enough!" 

        "Then why'd you fuck me while you were with her!?" Jerking off in the same room, knee to knee was one thing. It was a guy thing, he could brush off. The shower was different.

        Rex turned. For a second, soft-faced, surprised. "So now you wanna talk about it?" He waited for Seb to say more but the words got stuck. Seb flew out a tarped over window. He blasted apart Lithuania that night.

        When he came back, the tower was dark, sunrise on the way. Rex was still lying there. Seb laid behind him, heard his heartbeat, knew he was awake, but said nothing and slipped into sleep.

        The next day, "You got blood on me." Rex uselessly batted at himself with a hand towel. They were always caked in it somewhere. Dad said they could wash on the ship whenever it came. "God, fucking-" He swore to himself in broken Spanish. He never could speak it, but he liked the sound of the words. Liked to seem a little less like a no sabo- even if just to Seb.

        Maybe because it was a bad time and Seb needed to purge, maybe because he could sense the atoms shifting, "Hey uhm... I think I like..." Rex stopped, rose his brow, the slit usually carved in had grown back. He didn't look like himself without it but God, did that look make Seb's stomach churn."I'm not but like... I just, with everything we've been through and that stuff we've done I..."

        "Are you fucking serious right now, Seb?" Rex said as the ceiling blew wide open. 

        He tried to tell himself in years past that was a confession. That he wasn't a pussy. That he was a man and the only person with a brain to do what had to be done because fighting back would only cause more hurt. He told himself and told himself until the words fell apart. He didn't want to lie anymore, even to himself, even though it felt better.

        "So you like me now, huh?" You asked, and when he didn't answer, "I can't ignore the last few minutes if you don't talk."

        His heart hadn't given him the easy way out. Take initiative, he told himself, like he'd been telling himself all day, stop being such a pussy, just say it.

        "Dude, I've always liked you, come on." He said.

        "Really? I haven't been able to tell."

        "Well, I just- You know. You can't be soft around a bunch'a dudes. They're dudes 'n' shit."

        "They're literally you."

        "Tch, dude, that makes it worse. Cuz they know my shit."

        "I dunno if they do." You said, "You didn't go murder a billion people to like, own me. So ya'know, the bar is in hell, but you're different." 

        "Thanks?" Accepting kindness made him shiver like he'd break into hives, he said, "I did kill-"

        "Shut up, oh my God."

        He did, for all of two seconds. Because talking soothed the hives, "I'm too high for this shit, man."

        "I thought that was part'a the plan, man." You bumped him with your head. "Get high and like, apologize to me or whatever."

       "Well, I mean, I've been thinking about you," and when your eyes met, "like stuff, a lot." Under your weight he wanted to squirm and wanted never to be not under it again. "I dunno how this is gonna go, I mean, the last person I was with, he-" 

        For all his "I always find out" attitude, Dad never knew. Mom knew less. William had an inkling that Seb shut down as meanly as he could. Rex knew. Knew the hardness of Seb sliding against him, shaft to shaft, that one post mission where Dad almost saw him and figured it all out. Dirty, they hit the showers together. Laughing until there was only quiet breath and hot shower spray. Rex had Seb against the stall wall. The hardest he'd ever been and quivering in Rex's hand, holding their hard-ons together. He remembered moaning like a girl, throwing his head back, and exposing his jugular. Rex sucked his neck as he came.

        After, they microwaved pizza pockets and invited Eve and Rae to watch shitty B-movies. They joined, shit talking (while Seb navigated a pirating site because he was on nobody's payroll) Kate and Immortal because "God, talk about dating the worst dude ever," Rex said with his arm over Rae's shoulder. They were a thing, tumultuous, temporary, but Rex liked her enough after she saved him from almost getting shot in the head by King Lizard.

        Seb didn't look at him all night, even when Rex cued him to talk. He didn't tell Rae either but she, like Eve, would wise up to some form of cheating eventually. Wasn't his fault her boyfriend was a- 

        Oliver had told him he shouldn't say it, "like that." Oliver told him a lot of things. Things that recontextualized so much but changed nothing. Oliver said he remembered feeling "that way when I was a kid," like he was Seb's older brother. Seb never admitted it, but Oliver knew, in a quiet way from the very start. 

        There was a disgusting relief in Seb that the only person who knew was gone. He hated himself for it one second, comforted in the next. 

        And now you knew too. He wanted to explode.

        The blunt burned down but he didn't breathe in. You reached up, plucked it easily away, and closed your mouth over the wet end, tasting vaguely of his mouth. "My ex-girlfriend hated me so much that she wanted to kill me. I get it. But if you're trying to confess your undying love to me while I'm so high I think I'm gonna puke? Don't." You took a drag.

        You wouldn't hold it over his head. Tell the others. Like Oliver, you'd been through the same wringer. It made it easier to pick his jaw up off his collarbone, "I didn't say anything about love. Is it weird that I just like, like you? Also, if you don't wanna puke, don't smoke?"

        "Oh, so you like-like me now? Woooow. I thought you were better than the rest of them." You could barely remember the first time you met through the haze of violence and concentration on the others. You were both an afterthought to the other and now you were this. Whatever this was.

     You had moved on quick, like the bomb he dropped was a dud. He followed your play, "Well, 's not just me. Gotta be a reason all of us are so... ya'know." Dad believed in destiny, Seb didn't. 

        "Mhm." You ruminated, fire between your fingers splayed over your chin.

        "'S not just us. You like me cuz I'm Mark." He said because it was easy. That way, if you rejected him, he could find comfort in being even more othered. 

        You laughed smoke, "It's so fucked up to hear you call yourself Mark." It blew into his eyes. For a moment, he saw you in ashy tones. Battle worn, older, tired. Mark's girl. Not his. He blinked it away, pulled you closer with his arm around your back.

        He laughed too, "It's fucked up to say it."

        You let the blunt hang loose. Head rising and turning, towel sleuthing into a hood around your shoulders. Something funny to say, but you lost it in the silver of his face. The crease of his smile into his sharp cheek. 

        "I like you cuz you're Seb." You looked at his lips, then his eyes, gray in the night, back to his lips, eyes, lips. Hypnotized into leaning in. He was ready for you, head tilted, lips parted. You slotted together like puzzle pieces. Then you were moving, after a pause, he's chasing, hand on your jaw.  

        One swipe of a tongue, his or yours, there was no telling who, and you were both yawning open. Slippery tips greeting each other. The taste of cake overpowered by the curling sweetness of smoke. Like this, you're the one chasing. Trying to keep up while your body unwound from the fabric turtle shell. Only when your thighs caged his, towel on your back like a cape, did he pull away.

        "Wait," he said cheeks purple and ears more purple in the dark, "you're not gonna puke on me, right?"

        "That was a joke, asshole." Before he could rebuke, you kissed him again. His palms reposition, slid over your bare skin, bunching over your hips. Your arms made themselves snug around his neck. You flicked the encroaching heat of the blunt away to sizzle out in the sand.

        He careened away, "Shit, wait, you're not like, too high right? You're not gonna regret this tomorrow?"

        You plucked his sunglasses off his face- they'd been digging into you. "Mmm, probably gonna regret it."

        "Then why-"

         You tossed them away. "Oh my God, just kiss me."

        He required no more coaxing than that. Was easy under your teeth, biting his bottom lip. Gasped readily enough as his hands wandered up your sides. You could've gone all night if he didn't break away, again. "I really missed you," and he was back against your mouth. 

        "I could tell." By the pressure, hot against your thigh crease. It rose easily, without grinding or petting.

        "I mean it, fuck, I was so bored." He said. You laughed. Teeth ran over your lip, nipped and pulled, and let the flesh snap back to place. "This is the part where you say 'Oh Seb, I missed you more cuz you're so hot and cool and fun to hang out with.'"

        "You're not bad." You fisted his hair and shut him up. Not really, he moaned. An acted porn star sound real people didn't make. You got the truth out of him when you canted your hips. His breath hitched.

        "I-" He swallowed back a groan as you tugged at his hair again, trying to get his tongue back into your mouth, "I feel shitty about leaving you hanging last time. Can I..." His palm rolled a warm path from your side to the dip of your inner thigh.

        "Mmm, I dunno." You chuckled, he twitched in his shorts. "You did call me a slut."

        "I'm the slut." His fingers flexed, "So I need it."

        "Mmm."

        "C'mon, please?"

        "Better make it good, slut."

        He shuddered, "I can do that." The fabric slid easily to the side. Seb wasted no time sliding his hand down and back. Feeling the gathering of magma hot slick on his callouses. He pulled his hand back and groaned, his skin shone in the moonlight. Stupidly, breathlessly, "Fuck, you're wet."

        "I've been swimming." You rolled up his fingers, grinding into his palm.

        He scoffed, "Man, come on, you know it feels different."

        "Does it?" You challenged.

        Seb slid a finger in to the knuckle. You folded and gasped a curse into his neck, cunt throbbing around him. "Yeah, it does." It took all of two strokes for him to zero in on your g-spot. Press and grind into it enough to make you squirm and lose that annoying domineering tone. "There you go." He slotted another finger inside as your hips started to move. Your lips latched to his neck.

        The idea of a hickey was nice, but conveniently absent in Seb's life. All he wanted now was for your sucking and biting to make his throat purple and stinging. "That's not gonna do anything."

        "C'mon, let me try." You ground hips and teeth, made him trill. Made his hips twitch and slap his hand deeper into you. Made his cock grind to your hip, maddeningly clothed. You reached down, and he scrambled to free himself for you.

        In your palm, he was twitching and hot. Gooey on top, easy to lube, easy to work your hand over. Again, he's held in place, not by human power, but by a sticky mix of pleasure and affection. All he could do was moan.

        "Fuck, you are a slut." You laughed, squeezed around him, kept on using him. His cock strained.

        He kissed your chest. Nosed the slip of bikini out his way and took your nipple into his mouth. Bobbing his head as he sucked, so well trained. "I wanna fuck you so bad." He slurred around the bud.

        "Then fuck me." Was like a switch flipped.

        Your back hit the towel. Legs spread, body thrumming. Seb dragged you down by the hips. Smiled so charmingly when you gasped, the weight of his cock heavy over your hole. "Don't say I didn't warn you." He angled back, pushed his weepy head into your weepier cunt.

        "Warn me? What the fuck does that even me-eeeeaaan?" Hips clapped into yours. Stretched you wall to wall, all at once. You twitched and mewled, tightening so sweetly around him, but he didn't move. Chuckling as you melted stupid into the towel, body adjusting quick, like it was made for him.

        "Been awhile, think you forgot."

        The first thrust was a slow victory lap. Together again at last, his body seemed to say as it bore down. At last, your body replied in a tremor. The second was sloppier, needier. If he could have this all night, he didn't want any of it to be boring. Think of me, his body demanded as his cock slid in, out, in, out. Yours replied in turn, revealing the rest of itself with moved bikini strips.

        Heels stabbed into his ass. Legs hugged him down, kept him deep. He wanted to slam, you wanted to bury. "Fuck me," you chanted, "fuck me." As empress to be, you had more say.

        He laid nearly atop you, pressing chest to chest, lip to lip. Mouths struggled to stay together with the constant motion. Making it easy for him to ramble, "Fuck- nnnhgg- I missed this, holy shit, you feel so good." 

        You scrambled for purchase on his back. Every slap of your bodies knocked a little more air, a little more of your mind out of you. You tried to get him back in cat scratches but none of them would show. He groaned in appreciation anyway, spurred you on with a, "Yeah? You like that?"

        "Of course I do, dumbass- haaahh, fuck!" 

        He smiled, hair falling out it's gelled shape and tickling your forehead. "No need to get hostile."

        "Stop playing around and- oh God!" Your eyes were forced to the back of your skull. Hammered in place over and over by his driving cock.

        "'s not my name." It felt too good. No faked affection between you. Just want and the will to take. 

        You squeezed around him. "Seb!" His stomach flipped. His cock pulsed. He moaned, pushed himself to the hilt. You took him all. So good, too good. If you came this quick, he'd be annoying about it forever. You had to hold it together, get in control.

        You managed to speak, "Roll over." 

        "What?"

        "Roll over."

        Seb's eyes glinted. Mischievous. Knowing. He slid out just to bear down, fill you up, grind his pelvis to your clit. "Look whose gonna cum too fast now."

       From the deepest reserves of will, you said in even a tone you could muster, "If you don't roll over right now, I'm gonna-" You arched, moaning.

        "Gonna cum?" He teased.

        "Gonna tell you all the weird kinks the others got. Feel like awakening something in yourself, Seb?"

        That sounded like cringy, fun gossip, not pillow talk. "You don't mean that." Punctuated by another thrust.  

        "Ollie's into-"

        Seb sighed and leaned back, right into the coming tide. There'd be sand in his asscrack, but at least he was still inside you. "Tell me later." A wave slapped his cheek, grabbed at tresses of his hair, pulled far as it'd go. "Dude, you so owe me for this."

        You straightened, sand digging to your shins. "Stop complaining, you big baby." You rolled, forced his dick forward and back.

        Seb's head careened back, muddying his crown. Filth didn't matter when you were bouncing on his cock. "Fuck. Shit." He struggled to sound like himself and not a bought whore. He took it like one too. Eyes shut, mouth open.

        You bent, rolling instead of bouncing, swirling your tongue with his. Every moan into his mouth was a foot closer to the ledge. His cock tightened, he pushed you away, wouldn't be first to cum like last time.

        "You okay?" You slowed on him. Sterling silver in the moonlight, perfect, nipples hard in the cold. He grabbed for them and felt you squeeze around him. "Hey- ah-"

        The cold made them hard peaks that Seb warmed between his fingers. Easy to tell which way you liked to be played with by the pulse of your hot cunt.

        "You really like me, don't you?" He meant it to be cocky, but it came out soft. Needy as he felt. 

        You shuddered. The wind, the pleasure, the mounting knot in your abdomen. "Yes."

        He thought of walking in on Dad shaving so he wouldn't cum. 

        Seb shifted, tried to flip you over again, but you breathed, "I want it like this."

        He obliged, brought his hips to meet yours and made you bounce. As a man, he was immune to not jokingly complaining, "Come on, I can't be on the bottom forever." 

        "What if I like you like this?" You fell forward, off balance, shaking as he filled you. Every coherant word an effort, "You look- nnnhh- you look so pretty with your hair wet." His hair had been still with gel, but under you touch, the encroaching waves it went soft, silky, cold. His face was stuck with it, like black work all over his cheeks.

        "You are so c-corny." Seb couldn't hold on much longer. He buried, rocked his head to your g-spot quick, quick, quick. 

        "Y-you luh-like it." Your fingers curled in his hair, holding on for dear life as your body crashed down. You came, screaming into his mouth. A never-ending heat death that he lasted a single pump before spilling inside you. He barely managed to breathe as your cunt choked him out.

        There was an end. Wispy breathing, bodies sticky and cooling. The tide slapped at Seb's face, water in his mouth, he coughed. "Well, that was... nice."

        "Look who's corny now."

        ***

        Kregg blinked. 

        "Can't think'a anything, huh? Yeah, neither can I." Mark hummed.

        "Sir," Kregg said, "I understand you're upset but we must plan for-"

        "I know what we have to do. I'm not stupid." Mark looked around, caught the eyes, sharp and wizened and judging- like her parents had been when she'd first brought him home. "I get it. You all think just because I'm five, you can dick me around and call it guidance."

        "Nobody thinks that, Sir." 

        Mark's lip twitched. "You shouldn't, right? But I know you do, even though I put you assholes in charge for ten months and you couldn't even maintain the empire, let alone expand it. Who fixed it? Me! You think you need to tell me to make a plan? Are you fucking brain dead, Kregg?"

        Kregg kept his face neutral, "Moving officers away from their posts while you were known to be gone may have risked more of our colonies turning to rebel thought. But this is besides the point-" As soon as he said it, Kregg knew it'd been the wrong thing to say.

        Mark's chest puffed, emboldened by anger, "See, that's your problem, Kregg. You're so passive. If you actually gave a shit, you'd do something about it. Go behind my back and do real work instead of waiting around forever like a pussy. You know who didn't wait around forever like a pussy?" Mark gestured to where he'd been. "Thragg!"

        The meeting room was quiet when Mark was done, waiting for a reply. Kregg moved not a muscle but his jaw so not to lure Mark into more homicidal ideation, "As kin of Argall, you are stronger than I. I must be deferential to your whims, working outside of them is a disservice, it goes against everything Viltrum stands for."

        "Oh? So these two," Mark's thumbs went over his shoulders, "are doing a disservice to me by doing shit I don't tell them to do?" Markus really wished he'd thought to put a shirt on. "Do I gotta start telling you to wipe your own ass, is that it?"

        "They are also kin of Argall, Sir."

        Mark's grin dropped. The room went cold.

        Thula's voice stabbed at their eardrums, "Bickering will not kill Thragg any faster."

        Mark turned on her. Kregg feared for her safety. Mark pointed at her, "See? There's someone with initiative! Like yes, of course, Thula, let's walk into a trap!"

        Thula leaned forward, braid falling heavily over her shoulder, "He is weak. We can dispatch him easily."

        "He had help." Gray knew the story. Knew what a Viltrumite body could and couldn't withstand. Thragg should've been dead. "We must assume they are formidable enough for him to consider them worthy of service." The Thragg he distantly knew of had been icy hard. Barley able to withstand Mother's presence on his ship even though he'd never laid eyes on her. 

        Mark didn't like the news but nodded, "Thank you, God, someone who doesn't talk like a stupid bitch!"

        This was about all Kregg could take. Respectfully, "I understand sir, we are in a bad position, but this is an absurd way to speak to your council." He scolded him like Dad used to, before the powers kicked in. Firm with room for softness if Mark just apologized like a good little boy. 

        Tendons popped out of Mark's neck as he tried not to devolve into screaming. If he screamed, they'd talk about it. Call him immature, boy, child, just a cria. That was fine. The old shits could say what they wanted, but they'd circle and circle until one of them, Thula probably, said he was worse than Dad. Called Mark the shittier emperor despite him not being the one who wanted to retire over human pussy.

       Calmly as he could, "You're right, Kregg. We gotta even it out a bit. Call me a bitch."

        Kregg's mustache curved down, "Sir."

        "I mean it. Call me a bitch right now, and we can move on." Mark didn't know if he was lying or not. Didn't know what he wanted other than the council to stop looking at him like that. 

        "I served your father for seven hundred years." Because that in hours would be too long to say, too annoying to the boy emperor. "Out of respect for him and your grandfather, I will do no such thing."

        Mark's neck grew thicker still, then smaller, thicker, smaller. "Would you respect Thragg if he asked you to call him a bitch?"

        This was a trap. One of the confusing verbal barbs his human mates pulled on him time and again. Kregg thought he could get around it, "I only served as Thragg's General for fifteen years while your father found a mate and raised you. His role was always meant to be temporary. I have apologized time and again for not seeing that Thragg didn't think it was so."

        "You didn't think him making Dad and I fight to the death was an overstep?" It was more complicated than that, but swinging the words at Kregg felt good. 

         The look on Kregg's face was sweeter than red velvet. Still so hurt about his failure to the throne after all this time. "I wasn't privy to his plans."

        "Right, because you trusted him blindly. But you can't do jackshit for the literal blood of Agrall? Awesome. Amazing. You knowwhat? You're fired."

        Fired was a thing done to food and rebels. "What does that mean, sir?"

        "You're not my General anymore. You're just a regular ass drone now." Mark sneered at the others, "So are the rest of you. Get out." He had no idea how the empire would work without a council. How much work he'd take on- he didn't care. Just wanted them gone. 

        "That's not how this works." Thula gripped her braid. The boy needed sense knocked into him. 

        Mark squinted, "Are you defying me?"

        He'd try to kill her, he wouldn't win. That'd be a problem Lucan didn't want to deal with, "We solve the problem first then talk about changing the hierarchy. Right now, we just can't."

        Kregg piled on while Mark simmered, "Thragg wants the empire's heart. We must return home to guard our cria."

        "I'm the heart of the empire." Mark insisted.

        "Don't be silly boy, it's Viltrum itself." Conquest said. 

        Mark considered quietly. So long, it seemed like a definite yes- he was just being a baby about it but nobody said that.

        "Obviously, it's (Y/n)," Ollie said.

        The room collectively turned. Found Ollie posed with hands clasped against his check, rocking side to side. 

        "What the fuck are you still doing in here? This is council business. Get the fuck out." Mark spat.

        Ollie pointed at Markus, "Dad told me to come."

        Mark snatched Gray's arm, brought up the right app, and pressed. Ollie collapsed with a dog's yelp. Sebastian stepped out of the way before he hit the floor.

        "Get him out of my sight," Mark said.

        Sebastian didn't complain as he bent over and took Ollie by the hairy pits and dragged him out of the room. He went down the hall, watched by the middling observation crew, no smile on his face but one, big and toothy in his soul.

        Grayson made himself very still, terrified of the boot. Mark heard the lack of metal clicking on a data pad screen, said, "Keep trying to track him."

        "It won't be possible," Vidor said.  "If we haven't already caught his-"

        "Shut up."

        Vidor nodded.

        Kregg opened the proper screens to send the ship for Viltrum. Markus pressed a button, overtook control of the map, and paused Kregg's cursor. "Abandoning the warpath would prove Thragg's right. We can not let the galaxy know he isn't bluffing about our numbers."

        "Sending the emperor and his council to take care of a threat shows strong initiative." Was the easiest thing Kregg said all day. No traps, just straight to the point, even if he disagreed. 

        Gray shook his head once, "We understand that mindset, General, but our enemies are not so civilized."

        Thula banged her fists on the table, knife in hand, "The heart won't matter if we find Thragg and cut out his!"

        "Calm yourself," Kregg said, seemingly addicted to putting his foot in his mouth.

        Suggestions back and forth, back and forth like a hacksaw gnawing through Mark's skull. Feed the colonies! Go to Viltrum, fuck the warpath! Find the spy! Reestablish! The hierarchy! Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.

        "Enough." Mark held his head like it'd split in two any second, "We're continuing the warpath." Thula bore her teeth. "Whatever complaints you have can be filed to my Grand General."

        "You don't have a Grand General." Kregg would know.

        Mark moved between them, deciding who would be better, then thought, "Actually, I have two," as he threw his arms around both of them.

        Mouths fell open. Protests started on lips. Mark beat them all to it, "What? I didn't take away your titles. I just made a new one. What do you say boys? Viltrum or finish the warpath?"

        ***

        After the fucking came more fucking, then skinny dipping in near-frozen water to clean off. You were shivering so bad by that point, Seb wrapped you in every towel available. Then made a fire with Markus's grill fuel. A little one that ate up the sticks quick. You were warm but still stayed on his lap, a veritable bouncy ball.

        "Did I ever tell you where I got this stuff?" Seb rolled the blunt, unlit between his fingers. Best to save the rest for another time. All the hangouts of tomorrow and the day after that. 

        "No."

        He told. Bugs and rebellion and vaginal acid.

        "That's... so fucked up."

        "I know. 'S why I thought about leaving entirely. Just, rippin' off that stupid iPad thing and pissing off to space." 

        From your towel peephole, you gave him a look. He shouldn't have laughed, but he did. You smiled, spoke low, "Why'd you come back then?"

        He was struck with the urge to shut down, to avoid the truth but he was full of enough bravery. "Didn't wanna leave you with a bunch'a unfunny losers."

        "Cute way to say you came back for me." You tried to elbow him sweetly but almost ended knocking yourself over. He steadied you. 

        "Well, yeah, I just-" The warmth made his arms tighten around you. Cozy, nice. Like the fires in Teen Teams' base when there was no more electricity, and Rex made them when it got too cold. For hours at a time, they'd pretend they were camping. Hands sparking at the tips. Cheeks warm, eyes averting. Nothing ever came of it. "Everybody I've ever cared about has died because I let them."

        You didn't feel qualified to play therapist as a ball, but you tried, "It's not your fault." A shot in the dark.

        "It is." He should've joined the rebels. Should've tried to fight Dad again. Should've worked with Eve. "I sucked and I didn't wanna get better, so I gave up and they died." Rex's blood between his fingers. Pumping. Pumping. While Seb pushed, pushed. It stopped, but Seb never stopped pushing. Too late. "I don't want to do that to you too."

        "You're not doing anything to me."

        "I was." He soothed his thumbs over the cotton. Trying to reel himself in. Not scare you away by being such a loser. "You said it, I made this shit worse. I don't wanna do that again, (Y/n). I really care about you." Not like the others, leaving you on this cold beach alone, where anything could've happened. "We should just go." He said, "Right now, I mean it. I've been out on so many missions I can find a nice planet for us to stay, no problem."

        "Seb-"

        "I've got powers, I look like the emperor. All I gotta do is take that thing off, and you've got powers. We can make it." The delusion almost seemed true in his eyes, wet hair and firelight. 

       You didn't want to ruin it, but you had to, "There's a tracker in my brain stem." 

        "I-" His mouth fell, "I can..." He didn't even try to say 'take it out'. "Sorry."

        "You didn't put it there," you shrugged, "don't be."

        "Grayson, right?"

        "Yeah."

        "Fuckin' hate that guy."

        You could tell him. Extend the invite. But you'd just gotten back together. Things were fragile, born again. Could go rotten fast. You'd wait. At least until you talked to Grayson again. "Look, this place sucks ass, but I really care about you too. Just being around you makes me feel more normal. That's what you're doing for me."

        Seb rocked you up with his knees, kissed your cupid's bow. "I wanna do more."

        "You know you're actually really romantic when you're not acting like a dick."

        "Tch, I'm not tryin'a be romantic, I'm just tryin'a be a better person."

        But he didn't flinch away when you kissed him again. "This making you a better person?"

        He grinned, lips against yours, "Kinda, yeah."

        "Corny." But you were content. "Can't believe this is how we get together."

        "We're not... I mean..." The more he thought about it, the more he wanted it.

        "So I like you and you like me, but we're just pals." You feigned thought, "Makes sense."

        He huffed, "Don't make me ask, dude."

        Your feigned confused, "Whaaat," almost put Ollie to shame.

        "You're the one actin' like yer gonna ask if we're boyfriend-girlfriend." He sounded hopeful.

        You feigned thought, "I'll tell you after recess tomorrow."

        Lips locked a long time. In the sky, the meeting dragged.

        Seb pulled away, rested his forehead against yours and asked, "We're good, right?"

        Laughter was a boozey breeze over his mouth, "Hmmm."

        "Aww, come on, I've never apologized like this ever." He whined.

        "Hmmm, I dunno. Maybe you should kiss me again so I can be sure you mean it."

        "Tch, dude..." And yet he did, again and again.

        The meeting was paused. Nowhere near resolved, but they needed to leave, couldn't without you.

        Markus felt like a reanimated corpse coming out of the airlock, stiff and cold. Everything he'd wanted had just been handed to him on a platter, but there was too much else piled on top. The council had voiced their displeasure. Mark just shook his head and crossed his arms like a child. Said they'd all have to complain to him. Markus would be getting an earful after the meeting, if it ever ended. All of them scrambling to call the right people to pick up the pieces Thragg had scattered. Gray telling them everything he knew about his Thragg. Trying to strategize around that and what Mark knew. It was going to be a disaster, Markus could feel it. Could only watch as the tsunami rolled over the horizon and hoped it wouldn't drown him, drown you.

        "Shit." You rolled off Seb, literally. Towels unfurling as the dot in the sky grew slowly closer. "Shit. Fuck. Dude." You spun toward Seb on all fours, "How obvious is it that I'm high right now?"

        Your eyes were as red as a dog's asshole when it's shitting. The dot grew closer. Seb scrambled for the sunglasses, hung them crookedly off your nose. "Just be cool." 

        Markus found you both lying by a fire. Closer than people who hated each other should be. Fine. You having a friend couldn't possibly be worse than Thragg's reemergence. Still, he'd set rules for engagement later with palm strikes. If he ever got the time to be alone with you for longer than five minutes. 

        He landed. Saw the scattered beach supplies, decided the locals could deal with it. There was just no time to drag this out. "We're leaving." You didn't protest, but you stood slow. Too slow. Fell into his arms, reeking of more alcohol, of Seb's substance. "I told you to slow down."

        You were boneless in his arms. Head lulling back as his feet left the sand, Seb following. "I didn't do that much, it's cool." The wind pushed the sunglasses down your nose. He saw and took off to the ship. The meeting could wait, you needed to go to the medwing. "What did you give her?" 

        Seb flew beside him, "It's safe, dude. I checked."

        Markus said nothing, only flew faster. 

[reabees]

My Dead Girlfriend

Enemies and allies wait for Viltrum's next move but in this room, there are no war plans being made. When invasion does begin, it somehow goes the best possible way.

NSFW. Daddy kink (in title, not roleplay) and a bunch of other stuff. Longest NSFW scene of the fic most likely. Gotta fuck while we still can #real. Is it the best paced porn in the world? No, but it's been planned since the start. Worlds stupidest, plot relevant, overly long foursome. Markcest if you squint.

[Invincible Variants X Reader]

[Part one] [43] [Ao3] [Chapter Index] [Full Image NSFW] [45]

44* Through the Flesh [12.4k]

"I lift my hands from touching you, To touch the wind that whispers through, This twilight garden turns into, A world where dreams are real."

This Twilight Garden - The Cure

        Red pierced through the windows. So pure and bright, you thought gore had been splattered across your face. A haphazard swipe over your eyes, you found you were not. Then it was gone, room reduced to its normal hue, dim by comparison. The red sun blocked out by a faraway skyscraper-sized chunk of debris, passing as quickly as it came in. The office was again bathed in a candy coating. It dyed Markus' grays to cartoonishly bloody and Gray's brown pupils black. Mark was a shadow from his seat. You shielded your eyes and moved for him. Slow, dream-like, exhausted from your maybe single hour of sleep. 

        Mark had called you for something important he hadn't specified, 'official business' you hadn't been included in since Ka-Thala. You dressed for the occasion, flowly, semi-revealing, something he'd appreciate and maybe curb his infamous attitude.

        "Still no movement," Gray said as you passed behind him, standing at attention despite the empty chair to his left. The chair was meant for underlings, lower ranking viltrumites, loyalists that needed to be below the Emperor to converse with him. Gray refused to sit in it even after days without sleep. "If their scanners are as advanced as we theorized, they should've known we've been coming for days."

        "They may not have a way to break through the barrier." Markus paid you little mind, swiping over various camera feeds of Hydrox's revolving shield of an upper atmosphere. "Or they want us to think that and are waiting until we exit the ship to act."

        "They're just waiting until we're down there to kill us all and themselves." Mark said as you rounded the desk corner, "Hey, baby." He smiled like he hadn't said what he had, like you hadn't been worried he was going to call you a spy.

        "Emperor, if there was a 'death ray'," as he'd called it so many times, "we would have certainly picked up on it by now."

        "You're the one who said our scans aren't perfect cuz'a the interference," Mark mumbled.

        You leaned back against the desk, sitting against scattered papers. Another fry flash of red then dim, you looked out the window to watch. Hydrox, just far enough away, you could see the cycling layer of debris. Close enough for a Viltrumite to reach in seconds. Hopefully, far enough enemies would be able to reach the ship.  

        Mark watched you with narrowed eyes as Gray continued to outline hypotheticals. Emperor's skirts quietly swooshing as he shifted back in his chair. Knees sliding open in invitation. An invitation you could not, even silently refuse. He had been good last night, but you knew his track record. Markus said he was horrible in meetings, you didn't want to push your luck.

        As soon as the backs of your thighs were draped over his lap, his hands were glued to your waist. Pulling you flush against his chest where he could hook his chin over your shoulder. Unsubtly feeling up your sides toward your front.

        Markus finally looked at you, watching as Mark's hands traveled up your body. "We could be attacked at any moment. Are you really sure you want to do this?"

        Hot breath passed your ear. "I'll make you dickheads go deal with it."

        Markus felt his temple throb, trying not to look at you stiffly perched in the Emperor's lap, no idea of his intentions, assuming this was the most you would have to do. "I don't think this is a good idea."

        Mark's wandering fingers found your nipples under fabric and pinched. Your heart sped, you suppressed a shudder, faint arousal stirred in Markus' gut. "It's the best one I've had in a while."

        You kept your face straight. Too used to Mark's displays of power. Asked simply, "What did you guys need to talk to me about? The invasion, right?" 

        "Baby, I already told you about the invasion." Fingers rolled sensitive flesh between knuckles. "Do you really not remember any of it?"

        You swallowed a gasp. Flush cheeked as you noticed Gray watching attentively. Cataloguing your every micro expression, every twitch of your thighs, every mean twist of Mark's fingers. 

        "I was a little distracted." You hummed, the right answer, earning yourself another pinch that sent warmth pooling below. It'd pass, like all of Mark's little flights of fancy always did. After you walked out of that first meeting, he never pushed too far. You took a steadying breath. 

        "That's perfectly fine," Markus caught your eye, held it despite the lewdity, "We'd all prefer to update you together."

        "Yeah," Mark planted a hot kiss to the crook of your neck, "together."

        The groping never ended. Not through Markus' dumbed down summary of how the warpath was going or Gray's retelling of their worries. His narrative was stop and go, hypnotized by the way Mark molded your peaked flesh.

        Mark thought you would've cracked by now. Moaned and spread your legs and begged to take three cocks. To your credit, you kept cool. Unwilling to give him permission to be more obnoxious. All the while, you cunt slowly warmed and keened like a kitten by a fireplace. You tightened your legs. Everybody noticed.

        "We'll be dropping down to meet them in less than two hours." Gray managed to say without pause, "During which, you'll be kept in the emperor's quarters. The safest place should anything goes wrong."

        "Nothing will," Markus assured solely for your sake.

        Mark scoffed, "What? You see the future now, big guy?" For a second, a single moment, his hands flew up to gesture at nothing. You took the opportunity to slip off his lap and give yourself a moment's reprieve. 

        As soon as you moved, the conversation dropped. Energy shifted like eyes, six on your back, then your ass. You were too busy thinking how, "Sounds like you guys are a little busy to be having this conversation. I would'a just stayed in the room if you told me to." The office wasn't quite a wreck, but it was closest you'd seen to a mess since boarding the ship. Unwelded holes in the wall, Mark's unorganized papers stacked inches high, a side table was stacked with more papers and trays of uneaten food. "Have you even eaten yet?" 

        "Oh," Mark's chair clicked as he stood, "we're gonna eat." Boots dragged across the floor, one step at a time.  

        You didn't turn to see him prowl. You reached for the handles. "I can bring a tray over if you-" Your hips were knocked into the table, palms pinned against its cold top. Mark's weight over your back. Hands curling over yours. 

        "Nah, you can stay riiiiight," he pushed his half-hard dick into your ass, "here."

        You were trapped against him. Couldn’t breathe without him feeling it, "Don't you have a planet to invade in like, two hours?"

        "That's plenty'a time." 

        You made yourself firm, "Stop fucking around, Mark."

        "You think I'm fucking around?" He laughed with teeth against your neck. "Baby, I'm dead serious."

        "You can be 'dead serious' without other people around." Turning, you were eye to eye with Gray. Close. Closer than he'd been last. Standing a foot away at most. Markus to his side. Watching. Both of them silent despite their new position. They had told you when they were higher ranking they would help you, would keep Mark off of you. Why weren't they saying anything? Unless they- 

        Spoken low into the shell of your ear, "You don’t think we talked about this?"

        A shiver arched your spine, "What?" 

        No one answered your question, just watched. 

        ”You talked about what?” Looking to Gray, “All of you fucking me?” 

        Gray couldn't look away despite your softly accusing gaze. The patter of your heart, the want of your pressing thighs, too much to resist. He wanted you to feel his aching, soul-sucking need, but all he could manage was a tense, "Broadly."

        "Man, don't listen to him, we got real specific." Mark spun you both around, exposing your front to the boys, pinning your hands at your sides. Him behind you, a human shackle, nosing at the collar. "That guy’s obsessed with the idea of eating your pussy. I mean, me too, but he’s real adamant about it, aren't you?"

        Gray went pink. "Well- I-" His throat bobbed. "I am interested."

        "Do you even know how to eat pussy?"

        Mark's voice was like nails on a chalkboard. Unsophisticated. Crude. Brute forcing through everything. For this to go smoothly, you needed to be more willing, and for that to happen, there needed to be a more refined leader- Markus.

        "There are plenty of things we can all learn." Markus moved into the space Gray was too nervous to take. In front of you, a single hand roaming up your leg. All of your attention narrowed down to that one moving point. The edge of your hip, your side, and just when you thought he'd tease where Mark had, his touch veered to the side and trailed up your neck. 

        "Tch, like what?" Mark's grip tightened around your wrists, a twitch from his touch, from Markus', you weren't sure, too busy trying to suppress a full-bodied shudder as Markus' fingers reached your face. 

        Markus didn't reply. Attention too focused on your lower lip trapped under his thumb. Your gaze and inhibitions softening the longer he held you like that. You looked to his lips, eyes, lips, eyes, and he knew he'd already set a better tone. When he finally spoke, it was a quiet, intimate whisper, something to make you shiver. "Be good."

        He saw your mind recede to a point, a single shine in your eyes as you nodded. Legs unflexing, shoulders dropping. Faster than you'd ever given in for Mark. Sweeter too. When you finally opened your legs to fuck there was always a bite, a resistance. Mark felt none in his hold.

        Still, Mark cackled, "That's your dirty talk?" As if Markus had done nothing, you hardened, melted wax over ice. Mark didn't mind, he'd break you down eventually. "God, I can't imagine how you dirty talk then." Sneered to Gray.

        With your eyes on him and the other's hands on you, Gray finally approached. Reaching out slow, like you just might bite him. You had the mind to after what he'd said. The empire was more important than how you felt, the abuse something to brush away. Despite it, you couldn't help leaning into his palm. Hoping a sweet look would soften him. Change his mind one touch at a time. He'd already changed so much in the short while you'd known him. Just a few more fucks and he could be on your side.

        He felt a hum of electric charge when your cheek met his palm. A curling need to kiss. Feeling faraway, he said, "He's taught me... some things." The plush feel of your thighs. How you sounded begging. There was another lesson here. A lesson Markus couldn't explicitly give, not to Mark anyway. Gray could feel it. An unspoken thread between them.

        "I was kidding, man. You guys really did get nasty with 'er, huh?" Mark tilted his head, mohawk bristling into your jaw, "C'mon, show me what you did. Or do you just wanna stand there all day?"

        A shared twitch between you and Gray. A shared thought to look to Markus for approval. "Can I...?" Markus nodded, shifted back just enough, hand moving to your waist. 

        The soldier he was, Gray wasted no time. Determined to keep his station. To show Markus he'd reflected, improved, been good.

        "You really gotta ask for permission?" Mark laughed.

        But no one was paying attention as Gray's hand, solid and sure, snaked around the back of your neck. Held you where he wanted, made you anticipate when he'd lean in. The moment dragged, as Markus let his moments drag. It wasn't until you softened, your eyelids fluttering as you accepted your fate, when he kissed you.

        There was no preamble of closed lip pecks. He began open-mouthed, yours still closed, a misstep he gently nipped you for. Predictably, you opened up to yip. He advanced, causing you to fall back, submitting when he had you pinned, battle easily won. You struggled beneath him, body grinding up against his despite being so obviously outdone at your own game. He'd been envisioning this in meetings, strategizing. He'd planned to pin your body to his, a firm hand on the small of your back, but you were flush to Mark meaning he had to improvise. He followed Markus lead, pressing his thumb into the dip of your waist on the other side. 

        All that effort was only worth it when he pulled from you a shallow gasp. The first wave defeated, he needed total victory. Efforts were redoubled, harder he pushed into the fray of your mouth.

        "Holy shit." Mark blinked at the view from your shoulder. "He's really goin'."

        He was, Markus noted, from his spot beside you. Idly pushing his hand between you and Gray, kneading at your thighs, thumb brushing over your clothed heat.

        Gray was wearing you down, he knew. This time, when he nipped, your hips twitched into his- into Markus' waiting touch. You still withheld moans trying to maintain some dignity in front of Mark. Submit, Gray's other palm seemed to say, glued to the side of your face. Keeping you from tilting, from getting his tongue out of your mouth. As if you wanted it gone anyway- finally giving him a real moan. 

        "Oh! Fuck, man, I shouldn't have doubted you." How many times had Gray kissed, Mark wondered. Couldn't be enough times to be this good. But there he was, pulling embarrassing noises out of you. Making some himself, but hey, Mark couldn't tease him about it. The guy never pulled back for air, never let you have a break. 

        You took it. Pushed back just as hard. Embarrassment a low boil with the others watching, but needing to knock loyalty loose from Gray's teeth. 

        "Damn, I think he likes her." Mark ground into your ass. Earned a gasp that let Gray advance deeper into you. Not to be outdone, Mark let your wrists free. Automatically, you latched onto Gray, hands unsure if they should push or pull. Too much of a good thing. 

        Mark again found your overworked chest and pinched. You yelped, Gray swallowed the sound, groaning appreciatively.

        It was strange, how hard he was while you were whoring yourself out for another man, your hands smoothing over Gray's clothed thighs, thumb brushing over his skirts. It definitely helped that it was himself. It meant you liked him so much you'd fuck him in a different, borderline virgin font. The highest form of compliment really. 

        Mark smiled as he bit down on your neck. You cried, Gray lapped up the sound and every other noise Mark pulled out of you. It was easier to break you down against another body. 

        Alone, Markus could've taken his time. Like this, he had to keep everything moving. Too slow, you'd get in your head too much and not enjoy it. Too quick, you wouldn't be in the right headspace. He put a hand on Gray's shoulder.

        He pulled back, eyes unfocused like he had no idea who he was, a bridge of spit between your lips. "Yes?"

        Markus found himself smiling at him, said, "You're not going to get very far if her clothes stay on."

        Gray blinked, "Oh. Yes, of course." He reached for the hem at your front.

        Mark slapped him away, hissed, “Make her do it."

        So Mark did have some taste. Markus was almost impressed, "Then give her space."

        Mark deliberately dragged across your back to come to Gray's side, who simply stepped back. Obviously aroused under his skirts. Mark snickered, "Jesus dude, you were just kissing." As if he wasn't rock hard too, as if he the first time he made out with you in high school he almost came untouched. 

        Gray fought the urge to cover. "I can't help it, she's-"

        "Right here." You said, already simmering with embarrassment without Gray's brand of honesty. 

        "And not naked yet." Mark settled beside the others, "Come on, give us a show, baby."

        You crossed your arms, covered the obvious peaks, "Why do I have to go first?"

        "Can't defend the ship naked, can we?"

        "I mean, you could."

        You were regressing. Talking back. Hadn't been steered right in too long. Spoiled. Markus intervened, "(Y/n)," you went ramrod straight, back clenching, ready for a strike. Markus let you wait, primed to flinch, and just on the cusp of quiet, when Mark was about to ruin it, he said soft, “What did you promise me?”

        He saw the memory shudder through you, ”Do I have to say it?” Backtalk she would have never given, but soft for you, barely a nibble. 

        "Not yet," An accommodation and a threat, "Just take your clothes off for me." Relieved, you relaxed, more than before, so easily controlled.

        Again the fight drained out of you when solely focused on him. You reached for the seam. Mark just had to open his mouth, "For us, dickhead."

        Markus told him, "Quiet."

        Mark snorted, "You did nooot just tell me to shut up." He didn't wait for a reply, throbbing dick more important than his ego at the moment, "Come on, babe. Don't you see what you've done to," he slung an arm around, "Gray? You can't just leave him like this."

        You took that as cue to rip the shirt off. Hand reaching for the bra before- "Slower." Markus said just as you undid the first clasp. Viltrumites didn't care about underware but Mark? Mark liked the lacy stuff. Liked to undress you and be surprised by the fragile white. 

        You paused, halfway to exposing your breasts, "Really? Don't you guys have somewhere to be?" Half-laughed out. Hard to stay completely obedient when Mark was here, being obnoxious. The room, switching from red to dim. A constant reminder of the imminent death of millions. And here you were, getting naked slow for show. It was all a little ridiculous, really.

        Markus kept firm, eyes darker in the dim light. "Watch your tone." You knew then that he had meant it, 'be good.' Keep the charade up. Play along. Above all else, submit. 

        For him, for Gray's earned loyalty, you started to peel the clothes off an inch at a time. 

        Mark laughed, "You sound like Dad."

        Markus didn't reply, only waited.

        Mark commented on every little thing. "Nice tits," and when your bottoms were rolling down your thighs, "That's it."

         Hot cheeked and straining to keep your tongue curbed, the clothes hit the ground. You stepped out of the underwear, annoying and lacy like all of the undergarments she had, and waited for any one of them to do something about it. But they just stood, assessed. 

        Mark poked at his cheek with his tongue, feigning casualness when he was pulsing to get inside you. "I didn't think you'd really do it in front of all of us. Kinda slutty, babe."

        They all caught the twitch. The flush. How you liked it and tried to hide it. 

        Didn't matter that Mark was emperor, Markus was still running this thing, "Don't call her that."

        Mark gestured toward you, "She likes it. Don't you, babe?"

        You couldn't hold his or any gaze. Too many eyes on your naked flesh at once. It was easier to talk toward the window as the debris passed, bathing you all in candy red, "I'd like to not be the only one naked."

        Mark poked at Markus with his boot, "That means she likes it."

        Markus thought about arguing. Finding a way to shut Mark up but you were getting uncomfortable and even more pressing- Gray looked like he was about to explode. Waiting for someone to give him a command. As if he were releasing a well-trained dog, Markus met his eye and nodded towards you, go.

        Before you could think to tense, Gray had transferred the tray of food to a faraway chair. Leaving a space on the table free for you to lean on. Your body the feast, all for himself. He didn't know where to touch first, so he opted for everywhere. Bursts of sensation across your shoulders, lower back, and just before he could soothe over the last curve, he detoured. Always getting close to the final destination but never landing. Too scared to push too far, wanting to, but not wanting to stop kissing your neck. You made good noises when he sucked.

        Noises he could tell were self-censored, still too nervous to fully let go. To close your eyes and let yourself be taken. How could you when over Gray's shoulder, they were just standing there? Watching. Mark smirking like he'd won something. Markus staring like you'd killed his puppy.

        "Are you just gonna sit there and watch?" You said breathlessly.

        Mark crossed his arms, incredulous, "I think I will."

        Markus rose a brow. You swallowed, a good enough apology for the moment. "Is there something else we should do?” 

        Mark snapped, "Oh! That's good!"

        There was no way you'd beg in front of three people, Mark especially. Markus would just have to accept that. "Aren't you the ones that planned this?" 

        Mark snickered. Markus' jaw set, "I asked you a question."

        "Dude." You sighed, "Come on. Can we just be nor-"

        Your chin fit nicely between Markus' fingers. Hold not harsh, but as firm as his body, looming suddenly over Gray's back. "What did I say about that?"

        When he was this close, it was hard to resist. Hard to think at all. "Not to say it."

        Mark peered around Markus, "Say what?"

        "Good." He smoothed thumb over chin. "What else?"

        "Yeah, what else?" Mark echoed.

        You ached. Humiliated. Never wanting Mark to see this side of you. But you couldn't keep fighting. You wanted to be good. So good for Markus despite the burn. "I..." The words wouldn't come. Too filthy, too exposing, too much to say in front of them all. His thumb slid into your mouth pressing on your tongue. Your legs, draped in Gray's skirts, opened anyway. 

        Gray pulled back just to look at the shine. Mark leaned hard around him, whistling low. 

        Markus pulled back out, rubbing his wet thumb along your bottom lip, overseeing it all, "Say it."

        Mark giggled like this were a game, "Don't be shy, babe."

        "I want you to fuck me."

        It wasn't what he'd wanted you to say but it had a similar effect, a collective throb.

        "All of us, right?" Mark asked just to be a dick.        

        You looked at Markus to see if you should answer but he gave nothing. Act natural, his neutrality seemed to say. You'd done it before- why was it so hard now with the others around? You tried, "That's what I said."

        "Actually, what you said was, 'I want you to fuck me.'" mocking your voice, like it hadn't made him twitch, "Who's 'you'? Me? Him? Him? Gotta be concise, babe."

         You hoped Markus would jump in but he didn't. Letting Mark have his fun and think he was in control, when you both knew who you were really saying it for, "I want you all."

        "Yeah, you do."

        Gray could care less about the power struggle. He was shaking. Cock throbbing like it'd been well sucked. "I want..." But he didn't know how to say it. All the blood gone from his brain.

        Markus knew the urge, the primordial need, because it wasn't a want. Gray didn't understand yet but he would. Markus leaned into his ear and gave him a gentle nudge down, "You'll know what to do."

        Gray did, at least, know to drop onto his knees. Knew to sit you down and drag you closer. The papers shoved back, scattered over the floor. He didn't care, just knew to put his mouth on your cunt, taste where he landed. Not at your clit but lower, made no difference to him, it all felt hot and right. Tongue buzzing at every point of contact. Pussy tasted less mystical than he'd envisioned; it was more like flesh. Good, supple flesh. Better than the dried desert meats after weeks of starvation. 

        Gray wasn't in the best spot or even a particularly good one, but your body responded anyway, arching into him, a hand curling into his hair as you gasped. A call that made the others respond. Converge over you, unable to resist. Mark's lips over yours, tongue in your mouth. Markus' mouth over your chest. Closed eyed, you couldn't tell who was touching you where. The fingers trailing over your spine, the hold on your sides, the thumb over your other nipple.

        You could only tell where your own hands roamed over hard, clothed cocks. The one happily bucking into your palm had to be Mark, the other that didn't so much as shudder, Markus. Your touch was about as effective as Gray's. Too overwhelmed to have any finesse. Just an acknowledgement of your want for each other, a connection through the haze. 

        Markus heard when your lips were freed, immediately rising to capture them while Mark sank, needing to bite. Tempted to sink his teeth into the scar by your throat, not stupid enough to ruin the moment, he chose your unsucked nipple to abuse instead. He thought the sound you'd made was from him but glancing down, he saw, it hadn't been.

        Markus' hand was on the back of Gray's skull, pulling him up by the hair to lick the right spot. And lick he did, like he'd never licked anything before, finding his rhythm quickly. Listening for moans like he listened for combatant heartbeats. It was simpler than he thought, consistency and pressure were all it took to make you moan. But he wanted more than that, so he recalled on his lessons. Mark smirked against your spit-sticky skin as Gray filled you two fingers full, your body shuddering at the intrusion, gasping against Markus' lips. 

        Mark tasted Markus' spit on your teeth with another switch. You were just conscious enough to tell. Twitching and spasming and doing exactly as they wanted. Arching into Gray's mouth, hitching at Markus' praised, "Good, you're so good." 

        Funny, how they all liked the same thing said in different ways. But they all liked you the same, liked the way your body locked up when you were close. They could all tell.

        Piercings glided over your skin, cool and sharp, "Holy shit, you do like this." He didn't know if the statement was about you or Gray. The man's head nothing but a tuft of hair between your legs, happily lapping in the suffocating dark.

        You were less kissing Markus now, more crying openly into his mouth, pulling his hair as your other hand jumped between Gray's head and Mark's. Not so shy anymore as orgasm approached with every flick of Gray's tongue. "I'm so- I'm so close."

        He throbbed in your palm, sucked the air you breathed down, "Cum. Cum for me."'

        You tightened all at once around Gray's fingers. Then you were pulsing, hard and quick, sucking him in deeper. Blood rushing in his ears like he'd been the one who came. A cry in the air, he worked through because he knew now. Not a want but a need, needed to lick even after you'd gone limp.

        Legs thrown over shoulders slipped in the writhing. Your own weight nearly dragging you off the table. Gray kept you up, from the hinge he'd made out from mouth and hips, hands wrapping around your thighs to hold you still. 

        Markus put his hand over Gray's, "Here." Pulled you up, revealing Gray's shining chin and open mouth. Dazed eyes looked up to him, wounded. Markus didn't let him wonder long, turning you over, belly flat to the cool table, spreading your shaking legs to help you stabilize. "That better?"

        Mark, who'd moved fluidly away, returned. Circling around the table, admiring the arch of your back as you pushed your ass into Markus' palm. "Fuck yeah, it is." His fly split apart.

        Ignoring him, Markus left to fetch the personal lubricant from Mark's desk drawer. Because of course, when they talked about the idea, Mark had showed it off. Half empty, well used, stored with his most important office things in a top drawer. It had leaked over everything.

        With nobody to object, Gray shoved himself back where he needed to be. The angle different, a new challenge, but a good stretch on his tongue. Easy to push his fingers back in, feel the difference here too. Another thing to overcome. He already was. Adjusting himself to pull out the louder noises. Moans that spilled inches from Mark's straining cockhead. Grip firm (in your hair/under your chin) keeping your head up, mouth level, and just out of reach. Stroking right in your face, skin stretching and swallowing the warm brown of his tip. You didn't want to lick as much as you wanted to swallow. Hating the smirk on his face and the amount of clothes on his body. Fully clothed like the others, while you were a trembling nude display piece.

         "You wanna suck me off, don'cha?" Your answer was a shiver. "Come on."

        He was so close but wouldn't cross the distance himself. Wanted your neck to stretch, to see you work for it. 

        Markus had turned maybe a half-second, returned to this and had to accept it. He wet his fingers while Mark tried to coax you forward. You stayed stubbornly back, glaring up at him, trying not to become a whimpering mess again. Gray wasn't making it easy for you.

        "Would it kill you to say please again? You did last night." He'd been so respectful, submissive, and you wouldn't let him forget that. 

        Mark's grip hardened to the edge of pain. A warning: The others can't know. "Yes, actually."

        You didn't look back. Didn't sense the danger until Markus' palm was smoothing over your ass. Memories of pain made you stiffen, made you listen, as he tutted, "Manners."

        Mark snorted, kept on pumping. While you tried not to shake too pathetically as Markus traced over you. Working his way around and around, lower and lower until a single, slick finger rested itself against your asshole.

        "I didn't think you were serious." Mark peaked over your back. At Markus' slow movements, massaging the outside, wetting you good. 

        "I'm always serious." Markus smoothed down your side as he angled to push in, "Ready?"

        Pump after pump, Gray filled you, two, then three fingers at a time. Giving what your body would let him. Made it hard to keep composed. You managed a clipped, "Yes."

        Clipped wasn't enthusiasm. He stayed outside your hole, smoothing around the edges, "Are you really?"

        "Yeah, babe, you really want his finger in your ass?" Mark parroted. 

        "I'm-" Gray sucked you into his mouth, "nngghh-"

        Your legs went jello-y. Eyes unfocused. Mark oozed over his fingers. "Sounds just like you did last night." 

        You didn't want to keep melting, but Gray didn't stop, neither did Markus. The only way out was through. "I'm-" You swallowed an even more pathetic noise, "I want it."

        "Want what, baby?" Mark teased, but Markus had been about to ask the same thing. 

        "Ugh just-" you shuddered as Markus' finger stilled, silent discipline seconding Mark's question without a word, "Markus- I... I want you inside me."

        Staying respectable became impossible when Markus barely pushed inside. Just enough to let your muscles start to slacken like your jaw.

        "Shit." Mark whistled, "You're a real fuckin' dog, man." It'd never occurred to him to get in your ass. He had two holes, you had three. The conventional two were good enough, the third seemed like a, harhar, pain in the ass to get inside when there were two perfectly usable ones right there. 

         You were tight. Markus knew you'd be from the first time he'd pushed inside. Untrained. Unbroken in. Willing, by your whimpers and quickly loosening body, to be broken.

        "I wouldn't miss out on this." Markus pushed in a careful inch. Again, feeling that comfortable heat he loved. "Not when she likes it so much."

        Mark chose not to be insulted. Chose instead to admire, "Shit. Look at that face." Open mouthed, short breathed, agony. Weedy little moans out of your lips, lids fluttering closed as Markus sunk deeper. You had other things on your mind than sucking cock.

        "It'd be better," Mark finally closed the distance, grabbing the ring of your collar and pulling you forward to let his heavy head press against your open lips, "like this."

        He was awful. Horrible. Ruined everything he touched. Tugged again, forced himself between your lips. If he tugged harder, the escape-attempt programming would trip. Shock you so bad you'd scream, and he'd shove his way inside. He'd love that. Another tug, harsher, pulling him deeper inside. Splitting apart your teeth, you gave in. Acidically hot on your tastebuds. Heavy and filling your third hole, one piercing at a time.

        You tried to relax and enjoy it.

        When he was too deep to feasibly bite, "Thaaaat's a good slut."

        You moaned, obscenely. Throbbed hard around Gray and made him moan too. It was stupid how much you liked the name and hated it at the same time. You hadn't wanted Markus to hear. Were burning alive with embarrassment he had.

        Markus' lip twitched.

        Mark smirked at him as pulled back, admiring the shine of his dick, before sliding over your tongue. You took him readily. "She fuckin' loves it." He sunk, inches at a time until he kissed your uvula, "Takes it soooo easy." You didn't even flinch. Throat used to the abuse. "See that? Only a trained whore can do that, Markus."

        Another throb and moan, another response from Gray. Rewarded by faster fingers. Pushing you closer to the edge humiliatingly fast. Mark could feel it. The way your jaw slipped, the feel of incisors brushing over his frenulum. He didn't mind, as long as you came like this to make up for it. 

        "You could call her anything, and she'd like it." Markus walked a fine line between jabbing and gentle degradation. Both marks hit- you shivered as he sunk to the second knuckle. Hot, hard pulse squeezing around him. Loving it. Whereas Mark rolled his eyes. Maybe it was to keep himself from cumming, but Markus liked to think he struck home.

        "That's the point. I'm not calling her sweetheart, I'm calling her my dirty cock slut."

        You made a noise around him. Annoyed through the pleasure haze.

        Markus interpreted, "You don't have to talk the whole time."

        "Talking's the fun part. I get to and she," Mark pushed until he hit the back of your throat, "doesn't." He liked the way you spasmed. The panic in your eyes, the tightening in your throat. Payback for last night.

        "You don't want to hear this?" Markus pulled you back, let you gasp for air. Made his point by flexing a finger and making you whine. "Feel good, angel?"

        Automatically, brainlessly, sultrily, "Yes."

        Markus flexed again, "You want more?"

        "Please." Sounding polite was hard when you'd gone raspy. Tasting Mark on every breath.        

        "Shit, when'd you get so nice?" Mark pumped at his base. Slick with your spit.

        A smile ghosted over Markus' lip, "She listens if you know what you're doing." A languid, slow pump out halfway then in. Shockwaves up your spine. "Don't I?"

        You clawed at Mark's thighs, "Yes."

        "Holy shit." He'd seen you cock drunk, power drunk, drunk-drunk, but never like this. Near possessed. Mewling and arching and willfully pathetic. Maybe he had been missing out on anal. "I dunno what you're doing, man, but keep doin' it."

        Mark pushed forward, needing your mouth, your moans on him. You turned. Wheedling for Markus yet with the brain to be annoyed at him and his head poking at your cheek. "Oh, don't pretend you don't love it, baby."

        Markus reached under your chin. Gently pressed two fingers either side of your mouth, "He wants you to do something for him." Another pump, further out then all the way in. Below, Gray had found a rhythm that made your knees give away.

        "St-ahhh." Talking was getting harder and harder. Markus wasn't stopping, and Gray hadn't slowed then entire time. "Hah-"

        "You know how to finish your sentences." Punctuated with the addition of another finger. Stretching your rim so good you forgot how to speak for a few moments. Markus coaxed, "Well?"

        Everything came out a breathy slur, "Stop encouraging him."

        Mark pouted fakely, "Aww, do you really think I'm that annoying?"

        "Yes." Said in a different tone than the mewling submission Markus had pulled out of you. 

        Markus paused, "Don't." Tone a warning in itself.

        Your mouth clacked shut.

        Mark's dick poked harder to your cheek. "Didn't say you could talk back, did we?" He added on unnecessarily. But he was the emperor and needed to be kept happy, so Markus let him talk. "Didn't think so."

        "Come on," Markus pressed down again, you opened for him easily. "That's right." He hardly had to guide you, soft brained with his commands, taking Mark's cock back into your mouth without further complaint. "Good." Still, Markus guided your head from the crown, pushing and pulling. Setting a healthier pace than either you or Mark would. 

        "Yeah, listen to big daddy." Mark said.

        Markus blinked, "Do not call yourself that."

        "I'm talkin' about you, man." When Mark laughed, he shook between your lips, "Don't act like you don't want 'er to call you that."

        "No." Clipped.

        Mark rose a brow, "Sure you don't."

        For a solid ten, twenty seconds there was silence. Aside from moaning and squelching and choking- but there was no talking. Markus and Gray still managed to understand each other perfectly. Separated by thin flesh, fingers brushing through it. Feeling you twitch when they did, then synchronizing, pushing in and out of you at the same time. All you could do was moan around Mark and take it as Markus pressed a third finger into you.

        Mark speared you down, rocked his hips into your nose. So full your jaw ached. It didn't matter. You came anyway. Harder when they started moaning, loving how your body tried to crush their fingers, how your throat became the perfect vibrator. Just like one of those fancy alien sex toys.

        "Fucking knew you liked sucking my cock." Mark shoved himself deeper. Felt your teeth dig into his pubic bone but he didn't care. Needed to spill down your throat while your eyes were misty. No more attitude from you like this. "Know you want my cum so bad."

        Markus could deal with a lot. Tasting another man's cum, especially Mark's cum, in your mouth was not something he was willing to deal with. "She'll like it inside better."

        "Fuck," Mark sighed, "you're right. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He yanked himself out of you. Cock swollen and heavy between his legs, so stiff it hurt. "Shit, you need dick so bad you look like you're about to die without it."

        You finally got to really breathe after minutes of acute suffocation, head dropping with heavy, heaving breaths. You distantly wanted to say something rude, but when you thought about him inside you, words left your lips in a gasp, "Mark, please." 

        Mark circled to your back, found both holes occupied. "Move."

        Gray's head turned like it wasn't attached to his body. He shone from chin to nostril, nearly to brows. Your taste in his nose, the back of his throat, everywhere. Fingers, three, stayed inside you just to feel your pulse. Not a thought behind his glassy eyes.

        He heard but hadn't fully registered what Mark said. So Mark said it again, firmer, "Move."

        Hesitatingly, he removed himself. Already missing the heat on his face. In the absence of something to put in his mouth, he sucked his fingers dry.

        Markus wanted to wait for this but when Mark had an idea, there was no use trying to stop it. "It'll be easier if I go first."

        Annoyance. Disdain. And then, rare understanding. "Fine, but I thought the whole point of ass stuff was how tight it is."

        "Don't you want to see how well she takes it?" Markus had to say, instead of it being easier for you. Mark didn't care about that part in the moment. 

        "Be quick about it."

        There was nothing quick about it. Moving you to the desk proper, sitting himself down, and you on his lap, knees up to your chest, lubing himself and you. Then fighting off Gray from eating your pussy again so Mark could keep his perverted view. Lots of steps that weren't even penetration itself. That was slow, teasing work. Lowering you carefully onto himself, finally unsheathed. Obviously, Mark made a comment about them having the same dick, ruining any enjoyment Markus was getting out of you shaking in his arms, nails digging into his forearm as he rubbed against your opening rim. 

        The stretch agonizing and mind-wipingly good. You hissed, "It's too-" Circles rubbed to your clit quieted your complaints and untensed your hole, let him slip a little further inside. Slow and steady, your whines filled the room. Muffled by Markus' over the shoulder kiss. Mark's taste passed tongue to tongue. That, Markus could tolerate.

        "Man, you're fuckin' nasty. I wouldn't even do that." But Mark loved the sight anyway. You gasping into Markus' mouth, knowing you were both tasting him as you pulled desperately at his hair. Writhing body on full display where every time Markus moved in your ass, your pussy clenched around nothing.

        Your pussy ached, it was so empty. While your other hole was stuffed just by a cockhead. Stretched to what had to be your limit but he just kept pushing. Pressing on the back of your cunt through the flesh. Body shocks sent your head cracking back to his shoulder, a hard, "Fuck," out of your teeth.

        He froze. For all of a second, you could live with that- a moment to adjust. But his ministrations on your clit had paused as well. 

        You wanted to curse at him for enforcing stupid rules, but you knew he'd only move if you said, "Sorry." When he stayed still, another, "Sorry."

        "Are you really?" Markus kept you firmly in place.

        "I am." He still didn't move. "Markus."

        "What do you say?" He prompted.

        "Sorry." Came out quick as a shot. "Please, fuck me, please, please. I'm sorry."

        His cock throbbed. Paralyzingly hard. For just a moment he hesitated to move, but you were already begging. "Please, I'm sorry. Please, please-"

        This was what he wanted. Sweet. Docile. Knowing your place. Perfect.

        "Please." Mark mocked, "Don't hear that from you often. When'd you get so polite?"

        Markus shifted you down on his cock, goading you to speak like puppeteer to puppet, "M-Markus." Was all you could manage.

        "Dude, what'd you do to her? So fucking nice. You're never like this."

        You could only moan in reply.

        "Basic discipline." Markus shifted you a little further so they could all hear you mewl, watch you twitch and writhe in his hold. "Goes a long way."

        "Fuck, it really does." Mark moved in close. Had to get a better look at the way you were twitching. Gray had the same idea. Closer. Closer. Until they both were crowded between your legs. "She seem sorry to you, Gray?"

        Gray reached out with pruned fingertips. Ghosted over the glistening outside of you. You jerked forward, pussy throbbing around nothing, cried for it. "Very."

        "You sure?" Mark took his own place over your folds. Pressing between them, teasing the entrance in little pulses. Never pushing past the first knuckle.

        Your head lifted as if on a string. You could barely look at them without burning alive with embarrassment. Shaking. Soaked. On display. Liking it. "I am." Gasp, shake, "I am."

        That was good enough excuse for Mark to push his fingers in. Three at once, easy. Your whole body rocked. Eyes back, mouth parting with a moan, whorish from his laziest pumps. "I dunno if you really are. Daddy didn't say you could get fucked but you're not stopping me."

        The shock of disgust at Mark saying that name broke Markus out of the pleasant headspace he'd waded into, wanted to break his nose for it. That'd be counterproductive to bonding so close to the emperor's side. Instead, he played along, ignoring the misstep, "She didn't. Maybe you should stop."

        Mark smiled big and mean, "Think I should?"

        "No! N-no, I need it." You twitched forward, tried to suck Mark's fingers in, but he pulled away. "Put it back. Put it-"

        "Maybe if you beg a little nicer, I'll give you something."

        Markus kissed the back of your shoulder, "Tell him what you want, princess."

        Mark snorted, "Princess?"

        He'd been calling her that since high school. Remembered floating outside her window while she told Eve. Eve's scoff and rolled eyes and parroted, "Princess? Really?"

        "I mean, it's a little silly, but I thought it was nice. And- And- stop looking at me like that- he held open literallly every door for me and paid for everything. I think he gets a cringy nickname pass."

        As the years went on, he made sure she didn't think it was silly. She heard the word princess and went wide eyed with want. You were already throbbing around him, conditioning off to a good start.

        Markus circled your clit, a reward for your reaction. "She likes it." 

        It was awful how well they were working together, you hadn't expected it. Caught between flickers of submission and lucidity. Hating it, loving it. All while Gray kept a constant, icy gaze on you, never missing a detail. Finding new weaknesses to exploit. Mark snickered at every sound. Trying to make more with his wandering touch. Markus pumped deeper.

        You couldn't take it. Needed to stop this madness, this overheating humiliation, so you said, "Please. Fuck me, please, I need it so bad. Please, please-" Markus' grip tightened, hips moved. Your empty pussy ached. His fingers quickened. The last remnants of your mind broke like waves over rock, "Please!"

       You didn't know who to look at, who the beg to. Mark thought it had to be him, the only other with a dick out. He eyed Markus, Grand General, most trusted adversary, with a playful smile, "Should I?"

        Markus looked back, saw a better path, an emperor who could actually listen, "I think you should forgive her."

        "I think I should."

        Gray removed himself so Mark could replace fingers with something fatter. Balls deep on the first thrust. You were shoved back onto Markus' hard body, deeper onto his cock. You sounded like an animal, wounded, crying for death. Body limp and usable. Use, he did. Slamming himself inside, slap after fleshy slap, staying deep. Rutting against Markus through your body. 

        Markus just had to hold on. Feel you being used. Try to ignore the dull sparks of pleasure from the friction. "Tell him thank you."

        "Tha-thank you."

        "So fucking sweet like this, aren't you?" Mark's pelvis slapped against your clit. Sent your head and eyes careening backwards over Markus' shoulder. "Tell them how much you like my cock, come on."

        You were close again. Desperate. Said it, "Yes- yes- fuck- I fucking love your co-" You whined as Markus pulled out an inch. 

        "Whoa! Daddy didn't say you could talk like that." Mark followed along, slowing until you felt your orgasm fading. "Did you?"

        "No- n- no, please, I'm sorry."

        Just because he was feeling good and generous and he looked so sad hovering behind Markus to watch, Mark chimed, "Gray, did you hear him say she could talk like that?"

        There wasn't much room to feel you from the front. Gray moved behind his fellow grand, watching your face while his balls ached. "He did not." He traced over your jaw, rubbed thumb over your bottom lip.

        Your eyes unstuck from the back of your skull, locked onto him. You didn't know what you wanted but you begged, "Please," anyway. He took that as sign to bend over Markus' back and kiss you. 

        "You guys are both fucking disgusting." Mark watched you blindly try to give Gray a reach around behind Markus. Watched you fail. Watched Gray tear his skirt to the side to free himself and guide his dick into your fumbling hand. Moaning in Markus' ear.

        Mark swore he felt Markus twitch through your body, but it was probably you, squeezing his cock tight, dangerously close despite their rhythm slowing. He wanted to shove you over the edge. Make you cry. You already were, but he sped up, pummeling your g-spot, Markus supporting, Gray's tongue in your mouth.

        Mark got his wish three strokes later. Nearly blacked out with how good you throbbed around him. Harder than you or she ever had. He had to think of beating in Dad's brains so he wouldn't cum. You made it hard. Riding it out on him, rubbing against both of them. And when he couldn't hold on any longer, your body calmed. Tighter, wetter, but it was enough to skirt by and draw out longer.

        When he was sure his voice wouldn't be a boyish whimper, Mark laughed out a breathy, "Why didn't we do this earlier?" Your response was wonderfully incoherent. He needed you to garble. To not be able to speak at all. "Gray- fuck- get in here, man."

        He lifted his head, "I am-"

        "Put your dick in her mouth."

        Gray looked at Markus. Whose face would be right next to his cock if he did that.

        Before he could approve or deny, "Please," you hitched, "Please, please." You couldn't seem to say anything else.

        "You heard her." Markus caught your slack jaw and held your mouth open like he'd hold open a door. 

        Gray nodded as he floated up.

        As soon as his pretty tip was close enough, you licked. Didn't have to be told. Just wanted to taste, to feel his pulse thrumming on your tongue. Markus didn't need to hold you open for long you were so willing. Ideas of convincing him of some grand something fading away as you haphazardly kissed his shaft. The angle was awkward but you took him into your mouth anyway. Groaning around him as he filled you- they filled you completely.

        Mark saw a man flying for a blowjob. Laughed, but not for long, since you were cumming again. He moaned with everyone else. Released into you without trying, couldn't have stopped it if he wanted to. At least he wasn't Gray. Cumming after two licks and looking so guilty for it, gripping his own face to try and keep quiet. 

        You took it all. Swallowing and shivering, still on the edges of the last orgasm. Mind as sticky as your insides. Wanting more despite the softening of their cocks. 

        Staying inside was too much, Gray had to retreat. You didn't let go easily, suckling as he pulled back. Leaving him stirring again, but he withheld to let you breathe. He wasn't able to pull away fully. Turning the tables, reaching around to play with your chest. Nipples soft and warm between his fingers.

        Mark was more used to overstimulation, let himself rest inside your body. Feel the gentle thrust of Markus against him. Hard and in charge. "Guess you're the last man standing."

        "I can go long as she needs me." Markus' pace never sped up, never slowed. The kind of steady grounding you needed, fingers going to circle your clit.

        "Dunno man," Mark watched the lazy strokes of Markus and Gray's fingers, "we got limited time and she's still real needy." With every circle they rubbed, you squeezed, he hardened. The seedling of an idea tumbling around his head.

        "Fifteen minutes." Markus said. In that time, you'd be well past done. They all would. Had to be. Hydrox's atmosphere waited to be broken in twenty.

        "Ten." Gray corrected. 

        "How many time you think she's gonna cum by then?" He started moving his hips, slowly thrusting into the slick mess of your pussy. "Huh, babe? How greedy you feelin'?"

        "I-" You shook, "I-" You'd come too much already. Had too many things touching you. Every nerve a house fire. You couldn't hold any part of yourself aloft, not even your mind. You couldn't stop them. Didn't want to. Nothing mattered but this.

        "Bet you wanna take another fuckin' load." Mark shoved in harshly, got a broken shriek as reply. "You want it or not? 'S like Daddy said, you can talk."

        "Iwantit."

        "Gotta understand you to give it to you, babe."

        You had to center and think to get the words out right, "I want it."

        It was a growl into your ear, the one not occupied by Markus' breath, "Yeah," hips slapped against hips with every word, "you want Daddy's load so fucking bad, don't you?"

        All you felt was heat, none of the confusion, none of the connecting threads. You said, "Yes," just so he wouldn't stop.

        Sweet as sugar, Mark said, "Then tell him, tell Daddy you want his cum."

        He felt the twitch from the other side. Markus kept himself steady, "Do not-"

        "Daddy, please- Cum in me- Daddy! D-"

        From the deepest depths of his soul, a groan. Not a loud sound, not a bark or growl, but a shuddering noise of something broken. His resolve snapped, grip tightening as a wave of pleasure crashed through him. Eyes shut right before so Mark couldn't see them roll back. His ball emptied, your ass filled. Mind awash. Guilt impossible to feel because you were cumming again, whimpering the title brokenly.

        He felt when it was done and you'd gone limp. Dimly, he realized Mark's plan, how he'd been outmaneuvered in ways he hadn't foreseen. How he failed you, cumming so soon. Letting Mark run amuck as the animal he was. Then there was his body. Feeling every flutter of yours, more stimulation than he was used to. Always having pulled out when he let himself finish, always at the end, only at the end. Against him, through the thin wall, Mark rubbed it in, literally. 

        Markus hadn't whimpered since he was a child. Refused to as an adult. Sucked the noise down as Mark thrust once, twice, laughing, "I knew you were into that shit!"

        There had always been inkling he was. A desire he knew was there, but she never asked so he never indulged. Without even asking you'd called him... A pulse. Faint and somehow like lightning, threatening to harden him again. He couldn't think about it. How good and right it felt. How you sounded saying- No. Second chances were for the weak. And Mark wasn't done and Markus wouldn't let him have you all to himself to abuse. Markus stayed, so pleasurable it was agony.

        In all their time working together, Mark had never seen Markus so uncontrolled. Even if it was the smallest shift, it was a shift. He let Mark pick the pace with no correction, didn't move your leg back when it kicked out, was just biting his lip, eyes closed, taking everything as it came. Mark loved it. Wanted to push more and more. "Say it again! Say it again!" He chanted, rutting against the mass he knew was Markus through the flesh.

        You did. Weepier this time. Markus was hard again, Mark laughing harder. "Again!" Mark pressed in, watching both your faces. Like any good slut, you listened.

        Markus was ready this time. The biggest reaction he gave was a bobbing Adam's apple. You were a different story. Weepy and clawing at Mark's uniform. Moans muffled into Gray's mouth. Mark pushed against him, made you babble and tighten. Felt how easy it was to push you to the edge like this. He found himself falling with you. Cumming inside as he sucked your neck.

        Heaving, unable to take anymore, Mark slid out, limp, and slathered in a mix of juices. He could've stayed there all night, watched you leak his cum while Markus worked you from behind. They didn't have all night and Gray was looking neglected.

        Mark nodded toward you as he shuffled back, "If you want sloppy seconds, she's all yours."

        Gray came around to your front and saw your stretched hole. Obviously used, leaking the emperor's cum. Probably the most valued sperm in the galaxy and you were just letting it slip down your folds. Sure, your body couldn't use it, but you could at least enjoy the gift he'd given. Ungratefully, you oozed a shining sliver. Soon it'd pool low, hit the floor. As Grand General of Viltrum, he wouldn't let that happen. His fingers slipped in the mess, pushing the seed back inside. You arched and keened, body uncontrollable around him. Walls sucking in greedily. Wanting more, always wanting more. Begging babble off your lips, something between Gray and please. He realized hazily, you wanted him inside you.

        You were easy to slide inside. Perfectly lubricated as Mark had left you. Flesh a writhing mind of its own, yours clearly gone. Nothing behind your eyes but still, your body arched into the sensation like it was the only thing keeping you alive. An animalistic instinct you blindly gave into. No wonder Viltrumites had to step in and save your race from self-immolation. He saved you from your writhing and pushed into your wanting body. 

        Every time before, you'd been controlled and coaxing. Now you could only shake. Liquid hot around him. Giving wherever he pushed except at the bottom of his cock. He rocked against it. Markus tried to suppress a shake.

        Procreation courses were slim teachings on Viltrum, here and home. Simply, insert, deposit, done. Impersonal as possible, at least that's what Father told him when he was young. He walked in and overheard the opposite at home but another child never came. He asked himself why through the years, but never them or anyone else. Procreation an open secret nobody talked about even among the Graysons. 

        He knew a little more each time, in the desert, in the medbay, on Markus' bed, why. And now, like this, knew even more why. The deep, biological urge to breed. The purpose, fruitless on your body with its shredded womb, the pleasure in its stead the link.

         You didn't think about it. You simply took, asking for something you could never have. He gave. Faster, faster, needing to push deeper, harder. The action was useless but you needed it, he needed it. He thrust into you anyways, possessed. Perhaps it was the way you cried around his kiss, or Mark whooping at his back, or the reassurance of feeling Markus too inside you, but Gray couldn't stop, rhythm unplanned and careless and harsh. He wouldn't until he'd filled you, until you'd taken what you needed.

        He'd always gone first embarrassingly fast. This time, you came for an unknown time. Body so overworked it was hardly a change but the extra squeeze, the weep against his lips, it nearly sent him spilling. He held on by threads. Wanted to try and see your orgasm through. Take care of you as a human needed to be.

        Mark watched, half-mast, and brows high, "Didn't think you had it in you!" He reached out to clap Gray's shoulder. A growl. A thrust all the way deep, nothing would keep him from this. Mark reeled back, "Whooaa, I'm not gonna take 'er away from you, man."

        Gray shifted his head to your shoulder, watching Mark to make sure he wouldn't interfere. Mark backed up a step, wheezing a laugh. "All yours." Gray turned back into your neck, listening hard for a lie. He only heard your erratic pulse and moaning. Only felt you getting close again. 

        He licked and tasted sweat, liked the way your hips met his thrust at the feeling and sucked. Gently, as not to bruise, his hands hypocritically doing just that on your hips. Again, you came. Two pulses in, his seed mixed with the emperor's. Still, he rocked, brain that of an animals, body slowly shutting down. 

        Only when he'd fully stopped, started to relax into you, did he realize where he was. His teeth in your neck, his softening cock in your body. Selfishly, your body pulsed, tried to make him fill you again. But he could feel all his skin and perceive the other's judgment so he pulled out. Your body was heaving, his mark left on your neck, freshly blooming bruises and the sharp outlines of his teeth. He felt himself twitch despite everything as he watched you pulse, a trail of your release, of his and the emperors, slip out in a shining trail. 

        Markus watched Mark to see if he'd jump back in. He didn't. Simply stood back, marveling with Gray at the ruined state of your body. 

        "Is it fucked up if I want sloppy thirds?" 

        You couldn't say yes, say no, say anything at all. Sweaty and dehydrated and defiled all over. Markus guided your legs shut like a book. "She's had enough. I'm going to pull out now, okay?"

        "Aw, come on." Mark whined, "I can go again." His arm beeped. "Oh shit."

        Markus felt the same way. So distracted he'd lost track of time, not even fully outside of you when they should be out the door. He took his time anyway. The Hydroxians would die no matter how long it took them to get there.

        You went wherever Markus put you. On the desk, a glass against your lips. Mark's hand at your crown, holding you up. Gray between your legs, cleaning with a wipe despite his desire to do so with his tongue. Words passed between them. What to do, who to do it, working together for your sake. You heard none of it, blood rushing loudly in your ears as you tried to find yourself through the haze. 

        Another chunk of debris blacked out the sun. Someone called Mark's datapad. Impatience from their end, petulance from Mark's. They didn't leave the office till you were clothed, babbling that you were fine despite the way you were shaking. They didn’t have time to waste, so Mark picked you up off of weak legs. 

        The council was waiting outside. Battle-ready. Glaring at you boneless in the emperor's arms. Good mood already soured, he spat, "Wait five fuckin' minutes, Jesus."

        "We've been waiting for you to debrief the human for over an hour." Thula said, "And then some."

        Mark floated right past her. "And what have you been doing during that time?" Said haughtily, as if minutes ago he weren't a mess. 

        "Waiting." She snapped. 

        "And not rechecking scanners or gathering the other stupid versions of me or doing anything else? As expected Thula, great work!"

        Kregg moved ahead of her, "Most of the others are waiting by the east wing exit. We've been waiting for the last of them to call in."

        "You didn't go find them?" Mark floated down a hole. One of many shortcuts through the ship you couldn't take. 

        "Well, you've restricted my access to the lab, which I find-"

        "I don't give a shit what you think." Mark paused at the ion blaster's slowly opening door. "I'll do it myself." He said over the whoosh of air, cleansing him and the rest of you of sex stench and sweat, "Stop following us and get to the east wing." 

        Kregg, like the bitch he was, nodded and left. The council followed, Thula dragging behind. Mouth sour like she wanted to say something. Eyes squinted on you. One look from Mark and she too, turned.

        You landed where you started, in a bed. They didn't stay long, just enough to settle you down. Ordered up a platter of food and drink. To warn, "Stay here," and quietly wish they had more time. Then they were gone.

        ***

        Gone. Just like that.

        Pause, rewind, watch again, slower.

        The planet, white clouded and yellow bodied, was there one second. Happily producing nano tech for its long beloved Viltrum overlords. The next, a blip, a five frame flash in the atmosphere. Forty-seven seconds of nothing. Then the whole screen went white. Two seconds solid, five seconds fading. No more clouds, no more production under them. Hulleia was a ball of fire and chunks. Culprit nowhere to be seen.

        Rewind. 

        All five frames dragged onto individual screens. Analyzed by eye and artificial intelligence. Obviously, the flash was some sort of ship. It's full scope was hidden, only a slip of it's silhouette shown, the rest faded into transparency. What Grayson could see, the impression of a body. Eight pixels tall, four wide, red and tan. Thragg. 

        No images of how he left the ship or got back on. Simply was, he was too fast, too far from the camera, multiple solar bodies away and zoomed in to the max. Combined with Viltrumite speed and the cloaking tech he had to be using. Tech not in Viltrum's extensive library of rebel contraband. Meticulously cataloged and identifiable from hundreds of thousands of miles away.

        How was he doing this? 

        Mark wanted to know. The Coalition wanted to know. Grayson had no answers and his coworker couldn't help. Poor guy was the last one standing beside Grayson. Sleeping on the floor because Mark hadn't let them leave in God knows how long. The others died hours ago, from exhaustion, starvation, he couldn't be sure, their bodies cooling on the floor. Their only crime was having the same answer for Mark that Grayson had: They didn't know. 

        Grayson at least got a break to go to meetings, but then he was right back down here. Sleepless with an empty stomach. His nubs ached at the tips. He misstepped constantly, let things slip through mechanical digits, entered data in wrong. Body missing its eaten flesh more and more with every missed meal. Call it nostalgia, trauma, whatever, Grayson didn't have time to label the phantom ache in his body.

        His arm buzzed. Fantastic, another demand from Mark. He didn't want to check the notification but he had to.

        Freight received. 

       It didn't click until his eyes were burning- he remembered to blink. He typed back, ETA? The cameras already on loop, had been for the last half hour. If Mark checked and caught the sleeper, Grayson would lose his last bit of help.

        This channel isn't secure enough to relay that information.

        Bullshit.

        Then it isn't secure enough to receive further updates from my end. 

        As soon as he sent it, he shoved cold fingers into his eyelids. Knowing he could've, should've worded the message less obviously. They would never trust him, but the thin facade of allegiance wouldn't survive an acknowledgement of their ulterior movies. They could easily cease all communications and he really would go mad.

        Minutes passed. He considered sending an apology, a threat, a plea, anything for a response. Just as the words started to congeal together, his arm pinged again.

        If the flagship is to continue on your reported trajectory, our ship will enter Viltrum airspace eighteen hours after you've landed. 

        How long away was that again? Grayson couldn't remember. So long he'd spent down here without checking the time. The light never changing, his body never resting. Had Hydrox happened? Had they simply forgotten him in his locked cage? Were they on path to Viltrum now? 

        Perhaps they were. Engines about to blow to beat Thragg. That's what he thought they were doing anyway. The council agreed upon it in the meeting to cut an over week long trip in half. Everyone perpetually on agent fourteen so their organs wouldn't shut down from overexertion, doing so many near break-neck drive-by takeovers. How long had it been since that meeting?

        Another question. Would destroying the engines be enough? Thragg's ship was last seen destroying a planet a solar system away from the flagship. Whatever vessel he was on was fast. Maybe faster than the emperor's. He could be on Viltrum before they were. Could be there right now. Waiting. No cameras had picked him up in a day or so. 

        And you know who would know that- who wouldn't want him to know that? The Coalition. Waiting in the wings to pick off the stragglers after Thragg cleaned house. Just the sort of underhanded thing he'd plan. The best case for them. Worst for him, for you. 

        They could've been lying about helping him. They could care less about you. They got what they needed. Why would they even need to tell him an accurate time of arrival at this point? Why would-

        Visual on Thragg?

        They didn't have what Viltrum had. Good tech. Better cameras. They still needed him, maybe, or this was all a ruse to keep him unsuspecting. He had to keep them unsuspecting that he knew- if that was true. Maybe it wasn't, or- God, he needed to sleep.

        Another colony destroyed, Hulleia.

        Just as he sent his response, the largest screen on the wall blared. A call from the emperor himself. Scrambling, Grayson shut off the loop. Sloppy, obvious, but he had to. 

        Mark looked down at him from a shuffling camera far under his chin. "The fuck are you still doing down there?"

        ***

        Skirting between skyscrapers when he was a new flier was easier than this. Everything was moving fast, and Seb was getting real tired of getting smashed over the head with fatass chunks of space junk. Junk so big when he tried to break through it, he got lost for minutes at a time.

        The darkness didn't help. After navigating through cracks in the first few layers, any lick of red light was gone. Sure, he could see better than a human could in the dim,  but another layer later he was near blind. Couldn't see the others to follow them. Couldn't hear them either, not consistently anyway. The communicator in his ear hissed and spat like a shitty car radio. Only getting shittier the deeper in he went. 

        It wasn't right. Viltrum was perfect or some bullshit, this didn't happen. His radio had to be broken, he took the wrong path because he was stupid- no shame in that. He turned around because the others had to be too. Took a long time but he wiggled out of the third ring of claustrophobia hell. 

        Seb expected to see the others waiting cross-armed for him because, "What took you so long?" but there was nobody. He looked left, right, up, down. Nobody still, just the swirling mass of debris, the path he'd navigated down already gone. He could've circled the planet in under a minute to double check. Could've. But the ship was right there, glowing with sweet, sweet light, and if he was a little lucky, empty of stiff asses. 

        He landed in the west wing. Half expected to be yelled at and pushed back out. Not a soul. Not even in the halls or around corners or outside the emperor's room. The bud his ear had gone fully quiet now. It'd never done that before. Always Kregg checking in or Gray over-explaining or Mark bitching. Someone else would figure it out, not him.

        There was a single soul he cared about on the ship. Sitting on the emperor's bed, picking fruits off a platter. 

        You looked up mid-bite. Clearly expecting someone else, eyes flashing, hand falling. Excitement shifting to confusion when you realized it was him. He tried to think of something clever to say. Something to show he didn't care that you didn't care but then, "Dude, I gotta tell you something insane."

[hellooldshame]

Read My Dead Girlfriend if you like insane people. I locked in so hard.

Again, in love with the fic. @13tinysocks and @itsabee (sorry for double @ing hsbsvsgshsh) are master chefs in writing crazy freaks. I can only hope everyone becomes worse in the next chapters.

[lavtealeav]

Lensless Mark (Ollie) fanart for @13tinysocks and @itsabee’s fanfic, “My Dead Girlfriend”

[lettergradetempest]

Go my yaoi 🙌

[bluebonnetthefourth]

Pole Dancing Ollie (Lensless)

NSFW Content! MDNI

This is inspired by @13tinysocks and @itsabee incredible take on the Mark Variants from Invincible in their fic "My Dead Girlfriend". I hope I did them justice. And while the two of them haven’t released the Ka-thala chapter yet, which I’m super excited for, I couldn’t help but start imagining what kind of chaos that planet might bring.

In my mind, Ka-thala is a wild, exotic hotspot full of fun, indulgence, and all kinds of activities, even the illegal kind. Naturally, seedy but high end clubs absolutely exist there, and yes, I would 100 percent be visiting them. That’s why where this little moment comes from. I’ve taking some creative liberty to imagine a club scene featuring Ollie pole dancing, since he’s my favorite. There will be more to this, as this is just an imagine. So before the full scene drops, here’s a taste and a little insight into why I like my men pretty, completely unhinged, and dangerous enough to make you laugh first and question your safety second.

Ollie checks every box.

So if I ever saw Ollie on a pole, make up done flawlessly, hairy legs out on display in fishnets, glitter dusting every inch of him, I would foam at the mouth. No hesitation, no shame. Just his hips rolling to the beat like its second nature, would be a religious experience to see. I would ascend. CPR would be administered as I’m dragged out of the club on a stretcher, like a Victorian Widow.

There is no way any other Mark could pull that off. Not even Mohawk, the second most liberal and accepting in my option. He’d reject the idea from the start. Him? Dancing on a pole? Wearing a skirt? In front of people? The daddy issues and internalized "men are strong and can’t be pretty" beliefs limit them. Hearing the request he would scowl like you just told him you’re a spy. But if he somehow got up there, if you tricked him, dared him, offered enough sugar for a reward, or even caught him on a weird night, it wouldn’t be sexy. It would be feral. Hair flying, eyes wild stomping the stage to "Closer by Nine Inch Nails".

Ollie however is the complete opposite of that.

He would know what exactly what he’s doing, and accept happily. His song choice wouldn’t be grunge. It would be pop or rap. I’m thinking "Vroom Vroom by Charli XCX" or literally anything by Doja Cat. Something fast and bratty with too much bass. The little freak would hear one of those songs on the radio and say it reminds him of you, like it’s a compliment. While dancing, he would grin but not sweetly. It would be the smile of a man who knows you don’t know what you’re getting into.

He knows he’s batshit insane and says stupid shit, but lazy is not in his vocabulary. He wants to look the part for you, a professional pole dancer extraordinaire, and nothing is going to be half assed. Because if his cheeks are going to be out, you better believe he’s going to look his best while doing it. He’s trying to be pretty for you and you’re the prettiest thing he knows, so he raids your personal items, clothes and makeup. Whatever he can find. Mark (Mohawk) built that closet for you, stuffing it so full it’s a goddamn fashionista’s wet dream, a personal mall to impress. Ollie knows there’s gotta be some cute, unfussy crap in there that will fit his tight ass. And if he has to tear the whole thing apart to find it, he will. Mark though is losing his shit, over Ollie wrecking the place. If nothing fits he’s out the door before anyone can stop him, in a hunt for something sluttier, louder and flashier.

At the club, on your birthday, the lights him just right. His lashes heavy with glitter, over the one eye he has. The other closed, lined in kohl over an empty socket. Lips lined and painted bright red. Be aware you wouldn’t be watching a man try something new on a whim. You would be watching someone become something out of this world and own it 😜💖.

📝 Inspired by the amazing @itsabee (AO3). Check out My Dead Girlfriend by them.