Mike In His Uniform For Work And His Casual Outfit

⊹ Sinister Mark x Fem!Reader ⊹ ⁀➴

blood // cannibalism // mdni // sfw // possessive and obsessive // violence? //

“You taste even better than before.”

The man before you hums in satisfaction, his tongue flicking out to lap up the streak of blood trailing down your temple- the result of a crash he caused.

The resemblance is uncanny. He looks just like Invincible, but something is off. The yellow and black costume, the unkempt scruff, the way his eyes seem darker, hungrier. Maybe you never noticed on TV, or maybe he wasn’t meant to be seen like this. Up close, he’s terrifying.

He tilts his head, studying the tremble in your gaze. “Why do you look so confused? It’s me, sweet.” His grip tightens. His voice is softer now, but not in a way that soothes. “Still sweet,” he murmurs, as if he’s reminding himself. Then, quieter, a murmur, “A little more savory than her, though.”

Your stomach turns.

“What the hell are you talking about?” You thrash, desperate to break free, but his fingers only sink deeper into your skin.

He just smiles.

“Very different, too. She was a quiet, weak little thing, cowering at every move I made.” His grip tightens as he leans in, his breath warm against your skin. “And here you are, fighting me.” He chuckles, low and amused. “Cute.”

Your teeth grind together as you suck in a sharp breath, ready to spit venom, to scream, to do something-

But he silences you with a bloodstained finger pressed against your lips.

“Shhh.” His voice is almost tender. Almost.

His gaze drags over your face, hungry, starved. “It’s been so long since I saw you. I couldn’t help myself, you know?” He exhales like he’s savoring the moment, like he’s remembering something intoxicating. “You were the best dessert I ever had.” His lips curve, eyes dark with something twisted.

“I couldn’t stop.” His thumb brushes your chin, smearing warmth across your skin. “Just thinking about you makes me feel starved.”

“That won’t happen again, though.” His smirk deepens, eyes glinting with something dark. “It was too quiet without you. And I have needs, y’know.”

“What the f-” Your voice shakes, but the fury in your chest burns hotter. “Let me go! You’re insane!” You shove at him with everything you have, but he barely moves, only letting out an amused huff.

Annoyed, he shifts, pressing closer, caging your body against his. The air around you thickens, suffocating.

“Wow,” he murmurs, his head tilting like he’s listening to something. “Your heart’s beating so fast.” A slow grin creeps across his face.

His fingers curl tight around your wrist, feeling the pulse hammering beneath your skin.

“What is it?” He leans in, voices a whisper against your ear.

“Are you scared of me too?”

He leans in, his nose brushing against your hair as he inhales deeply.

“You smell just like her.” His voice is almost a groan, laced with something sickeningly pleased.

Your mind rings in panic.

“I’m taking you with me,” he murmurs, his grip unrelenting. “You’ll learn to like it.” A careless shrug, like this is all so simple. So inevitable.

Then his eyes flick down, raking over the torn fabric of your shirt, lingering too long.

“Look at you… new and improved.” His lips curl, dark amusement dancing in his gaze.

“Yeah,” he breathes, voice thick with certainty.

“I like you more already.”

Doom fills you, heavy and suffocating, sinking into your bones like a death sentence.

Your breath shudders, shallow and uneven. Every nerve in your body screams for you to run, to fight, but his grip is iron, his presence is overwhelming.

He watches you, his smirk widening as if he feels the fear rolling off you.

“There it is,” he murmurs, pleased. “That feeling. I missed this.”

A shiver crawls down your spine.

You try to move, anything, but he only presses closer, his warmth suffocating, his strength inescapable.

“You can feel it too, can’t you?” he whispers, his breath ghosting over your skin. “That sinking, twisting, crushing feeling.”

His fingers trail up your arm, slow, deliberate, pressing just enough to feel the pulse beneath your skin. The heat of your blood, the fragile rhythm, it fascinates him.

“You’re mine, and I’m not letting go this time.”

He leans down again, his tongue dragging slowly along the side of your face, lapping up the fresh blood seeping from the gash. Another satisfied hum rumbles in his chest.

“You taste so good.”

His scruff scrapes against your skin, a cruel irritation that only adds to the violation.

“God damn it, stop-”

Before you can finish, his hand snaps around your throat, cutting off the rest of your words. Your eyes go wide as his grip tightens, his gaze sharpening into something cold and dangerous.

“Maybe I won’t appreciate that loud mouth after all,” he sighs, almost disappointed.

His dark eyes lock onto yours, drinking in the way you struggle beneath him. Then his gaze flickers lower, settling on your bloodstained lips. A smirk tugs at his mouth. He tilts his head, mockingly thoughtful- before crashing down, stealing the air from your lungs in a brutal, controlling kiss.

It hurts.

His teeth sink into your lips, claiming, devouring, you swear you can feel his jaw pressing into yours, an unrelenting force that demands everything. The taste of blood, coppery and warm, spreads between you.

When he finally pulls back, he lingers, his breath still ghosting over your skin. And then he sees it-

A beautiful sight.

Your lips, swollen and trembling, your chin slick with fresh blood. His work. His.

A slow and sharp shiver runs up his spine, like the edge of a blade dragging against bare flesh. Want. Hunger. Lust. It coils inside him, tightening, suffocating, consuming.

His thumb reaches out, smearing the crimson across your lips, his touch almost loving.

“You wear it so well,” he murmurs, voice thick with something dark and insatiable. He brings his finger to his mouth for a taste.

You tremble, your body instinctively curling in on itself, trying to shrink away, to disappear.

But he doesn’t let you.

“Uh uh uh,” he tuts, shaking his head, amusement dancing in his dark eyes. His fingers grip your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Don’t hide from me.”

His grin stretches wider, wicked and hungry.

“I’m going to savor you.”

His thumb drags along your bloody lips, his touch almost gentle, mockingly so. Then, he presses it into your mouth, testing, teasing.

“Every. Last. Piece”

A/N: Felt like writing for one of my favorite cannibals! I really wanted to lean into the whole “people eater Mark” thing •𐃷•

Likes, comments, reblogs appreciated જ⁀➴ ♡

LUKE MY BAE (I didn't draw him for years damn)

REPOST ART=CREDITS

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Love this official art sm

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William is coffee addicted canon

Also I love younger Afton kids

(Michael too but CC is similar (and relatable) to me when I was in primary school)

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Shadow my baby :")

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Anon:  Could you please do BF headcanons for Luke Skywalker? Thanks :3

✧ Genre: fluff

✧ Media: headcanon / bullet-point

↬ gender neutral reader :)

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