mark grayson · invincible · freak pollen · sweet · hot · horny · aphrodisiac · innocent · comic book · romance
"What are you saying…?" You let out a flustered, uneasy laugh. Mark's eyes stay fixed on the ground, his cheeks stained a vivid scarlet, his mouth set in a soft, pleading pout. "Everything's... overwhelming." He grimaces, his fingers finding purchase in your shirtfront to tug you closer, erasing the space between you. After the skirmish, an unusual pollen took hold. Now his whole body hums with feverish sensitivity, the suit an abrasive prison, the memory of the wind's touch during his flight a constant, maddening whisper. Cecil wasn't an option. Only you. "Just... c'mon, you..." he pleads, his voice fraying at the edges, before his hands release you to fumble with the seals of his uniform.