#prisoner invincible

Omnivincible is more skilled than most of them. I just feel like he's got a mature approach and wouldn't just mindlessly delve in like some horny teenager.

He'd take his sweet time, enjoying himself without necessarily wanting something in return. In general he takes great pride in causing you pleasure. Is also pretty creative. After all his strenght allows him to eat you out in positions you didn't even know were possible.

Thought you can only come once at a time? He'll prove you otherwise.

Movincihawk constantly brags about his 'superior technique' but at the bottom line he's not all that good at it, sorry.

It's not like he isn't skilled, but he's pretty selfish and impatient. Any kind of foreplay is not a priority for him in general, he likes to go straight to the point.

Fucks pretty well to make up for it though.

Sinister Mark acts like he's doing you a favor, but with how eager he buries himself between your legs it's evident to say he enjoys this as much - if not even more than - you.

This man pins your thighs apart and eats you out like a man starving. Your taste drives him fucking crazy, so yes it could happen that he bites down harder than he intended to.

Likes to eat you out on your period. No I will not elaborate.

Striped/Target Invincible is super vocal during the whole thing. His grunts and groans vibrate against your folds, he doesn't even notice the effect you have on him.

Hope you're ready for the whole range of dirty talk, mostly degrading but occasionally throwing in words of acknowledgement. Tells you how this is your place - beneath him, completely at his mercy.

Uses his fingers better than his tongue, but is fairly good at both. The combination will send you straight to heaven.

No Goggles Invincible is probably the biggest tease on the entire planet.

This man will push you to your absolute limits, reducing you to a whining, moaning, begging puddle of lust. But he's got no mercy, prolonging your sweet torture for as long as he can - you're only allowed to cum if he says you're done.

With him the thin line between pain and pleasure is blurred into a mixture of pure overstimulation, but goddamn it's worth it.

Viltrumite Mark isn't familiar with earth's customs of intimacy. In their culture, canonically, they solely have sex for procreation. Though we never saw Debbie complaining about Nolan either, so I'm confident he can learn.

Gets the hang of it pretty fast, and quickly grows insateable with this new form of closeness he never got to experience before. He's an absolute mess, almost breaking the bedframe as he pathetically humps the mattress, wanting more more more of you.

Needs lots of cuddles and to be told he did a good job afterwards, pretty please.

Prisoner Mark was in solitary confinement for over a year - prepare to be destroyed. R.I.P.

He'll dive in between your legs and won't leave this place until he's got his fill of you, which could take him a while so get cozy.

Not an inch of your body is left untouched, as if he intents to memorize every detail, just in case you'd slip from his grasp once again.

Be prepared to cum until your body gives up. Man's got to make up for the time he spent away from you.

Unmasked Mark is very gentle, almost cautious in his efforts as if you were a fragile flower one needed to properly care for or it'd wither. He still can't fully believe you're here with him, so he's extra anxious about doing something wrong.

You'll slowly and sensually be guided towards your orgasm, his eyes never leaving yours as he reverently observes your every reaction.

Expect some premium aftercare!

Fully Masked Invincible knows you inside and out, has memorized all the weak spots that make you sing for him. He is completely and utterly devoted to your pleasure, maybe even a little too eager in his efforts since he tends to forget himself in the process.

To him your body is a temple meant for worship, so you'd relentlessly get showered in praise and compliments while he explores your body.

Your room is the same as the last time he'd seen it. The window is still wedged open by a sliver; Still creaks softly when he opens in a way that, what used to announce his announce quietly, sounds like alarms going off in his mind. Mark pauses, at your lack of a shift- The way the vague lump under the sheets doesn't move. The posters pinned into the drywall are the same, still, just as the plants lining the windowsill that he doesn't see in the dark light and almost knocks to the floor when he enters, are- That cracked picture frame lies forgotten on your desk from when he'd accidentally knocked it off it's nail, hitting his head on the wall mid-makeout.

The carpet is new, he realizes, when his blood-soaked feet sink into it, and the soft, plush grey material stains with every step around, towards the side of your bed. The first sight of your face in the dim lighting, even behind the goggles fused now to his skin, draws him in like a spotlight. Every detail catches his attention, the only change being the deep circles under your eyes that make his gut churn with some mix of insecurity, and something else he can't describe.

You'd been thinking about him. You had to. He'd been stuck, staring at walls for thirteen months straight, trying to piece the memory of your face back together, agonizing over the gaps in his mind between Solitary Confinement and the harsh, burning sensation of the acid Nolan had liked to punish him with. Seeing you now is like a soothing palm to all of the misery he'd been dragged through. The tension drains from his shoulders, fingers loosening from the tight ball he'd been clenching them into since he arrived back on the planet, and nerves quieting.

Want settles in his stomach, too. Jerking off just thinking about you hadn't been enough- But you're actually here, now. Living, breathing, hair cascading over your pillow and framing your head. His hand trembles on the comforter layered over you, slow, in his fear of stirring you too early. Of the fear he'll find in your eyes, or even that he'll see his own reflection in them, and not recognize it. He's not ready.

The turn of the blanket exposes more skin to him- Your arms, throat; The sliver of your thigh between the cut of your shorts and the comforter that catches his eye. Mark feels his mouth go dry at the sight, fingers twitching at his sides and heat gathering low in his stomach. Slow and measured, he peels the rest of the heavy cloth from off of your form, breath held as he settles his ass onto the mattress and it sinks with the weight of him.

Mark rests his hands on either of your hips to roll you onto your back, nerves starting to wane with your lack of movement. His fingers slide to cup your thighs and pull them open, wedging himself into place between them and hooking your legs loosely around his waist. His palm presses against your crotch through your shorts, feeling the warmth through them and teeth digging into his inner cheek until he tastes blood. He fumbles, for a second, with his zipper when he lightly pulls away, before decidedly ripping it off and tossing it in some direction. His cock twitches and leaks in his hand as he guides it between your thighs, holding them closed with his free arm.

Despite the damage done to his nerves, he's still sensitive at the first drag of his hips against yours. A soft huff leaves him- Shaky, nervous- as the soft material of your shorts rubs against his skin, and he already has to pause from cumming all over your clothed stomach. Pull the hem of your thin shirt up to your chest, not caring when you stir at the scratch of Mark's calloused, work-rough flesh on yours. His hand kneads your bare tit as his hips move again; Sloppy, and needy, and slow with a lack of practice.

”Please,” The word drags out of his throat like sandpaper, quiet in comparison to the lewd, wet sound of his cock rutting against you. Mark bows his head to stare down at it- Watch the head disappear and poke out of the space between your thighs. You shift again, and he shudders at the subconscious whine that spills from your lips, and only spurs him on further.

He chokes as he cums, painting your stomach, chest, and face in ropes of white. Your eyes- Open- Greet him. Bleary, confused. Nervous. He can see himself in them.