ft: mainstream!mark and variants (mohawk, viltrum, omni, sheisty, sinister) (invincible)
reader: fem
wc: 2604
summary: hey siri is it gay to want to crack the female version of my dead best friend?
cw: canon typical violence, foul language, and the variants are kinda sorta freaky in this
requested by: @sophsthebest
this was so fun to write lowk and I would've been done faster if not for the blood moon event in dbd so err yeah I'm going to go die in a hole now
edit: so i quit writing invincible but here's a partial part two
Life is strange, really.
One moment, you’re helping refold shirts because some people don’t even have the decency to put stuff back to where they found it, and the next, an international warning tells you to stay inside because there are evil variants of your boyfriend now roaming the Earth with unclear intentions.
You share a look with your coworker, who looks just as off-put by the information, her fingers curling around her phone as her brow dips. Just as her lips part to speak, the first building falls. It’s only a few blocks away, and the ground beneath your feet trembles at its sudden collapse.
You hear the screams of those out on the street, internally debating whether or not to follow suit until a notification from Mark lights up your screen, the ridiculous nickname you’d set when you were twelve a small comfort to your racing heart.
MarkyWarky: please tell me you’re okay
You: i’m fine
You: i’m just scared mark
You: why are there so many versions of you anyway…
MarkyWarky: i wish i could tell you
MarkyWarky: just stay put alright im otw
The message does little to soothe, and you can’t help but stare at your screen with nothing but apprehension. Your coworker is quick to seize you by the arm when the sound of collapsing buildings and wailing cars draws closer, ushering you into the break room with the floor manager as though the small, unwindowed room would protect you from the raw strength of a Viltrumite.
“Holy shit, we’re gonna die…We’re actually going to die…” The floor manager, Kasandra, curls into herself with tears already welled in her eyes as she chokes back a sob. No one says anything, unable to face the grim reality at steak when debris begins to crumble around you. You all huddle into the furthest corner as your hope in Mark begins to wane.
Small pieces of rubble hit your head as you tuck your head tightly into Kasandra’s shaking shoulder, the lights overhead flickering violently when the ceiling begins to cave in on itself. There’s no use holding back the tears now and you can’t hide your anguished cries, unheard over the collapsing infrastructure.
This is it, you think, mentally saying your goodbyes to everyone you’ve grown to love. Amber. Eve. William. Mark—oh, Mark. The annoying boy next door who grew to be your first love.
Sparks flare as the light above you finally collapses, but you don’t feel a throbbing pain in your head or death’s cold embrace, instead, you find yourself wrapped in a familiar pair of arms, still clinging to an almost catatonic Kasandra while your coworker grips the forearm wrapped around the three of you.
“I’ve got you,” a voice in your ear says, and you can feel the tears begin to well once more, though, this time out of relief. Mark is quick to shoot from the rubble, hold unwavering before he sets the three of you down and urges you to run to safety.
Your two coworkers are quick to flee, but you stupidly linger, worry etched onto your features at the sight of Mark’s beaten face and tattered suit. In the distance, you can see Eve facing valiantly against a variant, the odd cloth mask adorned on his face his most defining trait. She pants, her palms facing outward to just barely raise a shield against his erratic punches.
Mark pulls your attention back to him, face pinched as his thumb traces your lower lip in an attempt to ground both you and himself. His lips are soft against your forehead for a brief moment before he pulls back, staring at you through his cracked goggles with an emotion you can’t quite place.
“I love you,” you whisper, stroking his bruised cheek softly.
“I love you too. But, you need to go. Now. I’ll check on you soon, promise.”
So, you run as fast as your legs can carry you, doing your best to ignore the ruins and corpses that seem to block every turn.
You don’t get far.
A shadow overhead blocks the sun—its presence so oppressive and commandeering that it freezes you in place.
“Another survivor?”
You can’t bring yourself to turn despite the way your heart lurches at the familiarity of the voice. Your breath hitches when the shadow lowers—whatever twisted version of Mark this is drawing ever closer like a lion to its prey.
“I thought those other two were the last of them, but what’s one more?” The voice is cold, almost clinical, very unlike the warmth that radiated off of your Mark. A glove is quick to find purchase on your throat, and you glance down to see the red rubber shining beneath the sun.
Blood coats the hand, tinting the glove an even darker shade of red than what you’d first surmised. You try not to think about the warmth of it as his grip grows tighter, making it harder to breathe, but not enough to kill, like he’s messing with you in some cruel, twisted way.
“You’re this dimension’s girlfriend, aren’t you?” His lips press against the shell of your ear, jerking your body to face the fight between Mark and the clothed one from before alongside Eve, who reaches out to you weakly before eventually crashing against the side of one of the buildings. Your Mark wheezes, clutching at his chest when the cloth-masked variant throws him into a nearby building by the hair. “Pathetic.”
The sound barrier tears as another Mark enters the fray, his mohawk wild and unkempt in the wind as he grins at the sight of battle, though there’s no amusement behind his smile. “Who the hell do you think you are running off like that?” For a moment, his wild eyes slip to where you and your captor reside, a flicker of…something flashing through his before it fizzles away. “Keeping hostages alive? Didn’t peg you for the cruel type.”
You barely register the click of the Invincible’s tongue over the roaring beat of your heart, his thumb remaining stationary over your pulse point; a warning. He could snap your neck at any given moment, and you don’t know what’s stopping him, but you’re grateful for whatever’s causing him to hesitate.
“Come on, just put her out of her misery already,” the mohawked Mark goads with a small shrug as he pulls his fist back to punch your Mark into the concrete when the cloth-masked variant throws him in his direction. Cracks split beneath your feet at the sheer force, the ground almost giving way, but all you can do is watch as your Mark slowly gets up from the crater his body had formed.
He locks eyes with you, something snapping inside of him at the sight of the variant clad in a suit nearly identical to Omni-Man’s wrapping his hand around your throat.
“[Name]!” He calls out, bursting free from the grasp of the two other Marks with a renewed sense of vigor.
Time seems to freeze the moment your name leaves his bloodied lips, the Mark holding you hostage too stunned to react when your Mark’s fist collides with his jaw hard enough to send him three blocks away. It isn’t long until you’re swept into Mark’s arms, the hold both protective and possessive as he glares at the other two, his chest heaving with each labored breath he struggles to take.
“No fuckin’ way.” The mohawked variant blinks slowly, his lips pulling into a mix of a grimace and a smirk. “That’s unfair on so many levels.” He turns to the Mark in a cloth mask who seems to share the same sentiment, mumbling under his breath about how unfair it is that this version of him gets the hot babe.
Omni-Man Mark merely scoffs when he floats back, his suit still pristine as though he’d never been thrown at all while he crosses his arms over his chest, scrutinizing the way you tremble in this version of him’s hold. You aren’t the best friend he’d killed mercilessly back in his dimension. Here, you were a woman—his woman. And he’d be damned if he couldn’t kill two birds with one stone.
A best friend and a wife. Who would’ve thought?
While he’d never seen the other, male, version of you in a romantic light, his heart stirs at the thought of taking this version of you for himself. It’s not like it’ll take much to kill this Mark; he’s already as good as dead anyway—
“Is everything alright here?” Clad in white and silver, yet another version of Mark descends from the sky like some sort of disgraced angel.
“Ugh, why are you here?” Mohawk Mark rolls his eyes obnoxiously, his gaze only briefly flickering to the new variant.
“Angstrom sent me to see if you all were sticking to the plan, which clearly you aren’t.”
“Aww, the lil’Viltrum baby can’t do anything without a mission? How sad!” He bats his lashes dramatically before sneering. “What are you gonna do next, bark? Who gives a shit about the plan? You’re acting as if you weren’t gonna kill him after anyway!”
The Mark in the Viltrum uniform chooses not to dignify him with a response.
Unbothered by his counterpart’s nonchalance, the mohawked Mark sets his sights back on you, spreading his arms wide as if to welcome you in with a hug. “Hey, [Name], it’s just me. Just Mark. Your best friend, remember? We used to play CoD and shit when your parents were out.”
Viltrum Mark’s brows furrow at the familiar name, steady gaze finally paying you mind as you try to sink further into the Mark of this dimension’s arms. You’re a lot…softer than he recalls you being, your form far less filled out; almost feminine. But, that couldn’t be right, right? How cruel would it be for this version of him to have the perfect mate whilst he, while grateful for your prior companionship, was stuck with nothing more than a best friend? One that he’d ultimately killed for resisting.
Surely, his brain is playing tricks on him.
Then he hears it—they all hear it.
The small terrified whimper you let out, the sound almost heavenly as you try to curl into Mark like your life depends on it. Which you suppose it does at this very moment.
A collective groan settles across all the present variations of Mark, all differing levels of arousal. They can practically taste the fear emanating off of you, stalking closer like a pack of deranged wolves.
Disgust pulls at Mark’s lips at the look in their eyes, his arms trembling around you as the last line of defense between you and these monstrous versions of him. “What the hell are you guys on about?” He seethes, only to be met by a suffocating silence.
Viltrum Mark appears in front of you before you and Mark can process his presence, tearing you out of your boyfriend’s arms despite your screaming protests. His grip is firm, but it’s the underlying softness in it that has you trembling with both fear and confusion. One of his hands finds your chin, stroking the contour of your jaw while his thumb gently presses down on your lower lip in a similar fashion that your Mark had done earlier.
“You’re [Name].” His face twists with perplexion as he speaks. “But, you’re so soft.” You feel his other hand fall from your arm, settling on your hip as if to prove a point. He squeezes and prods the fat, slipping beneath the fabric of your shirt to feel the soft skin underneath, his fingers splaying against your stomach while his nose buries itself in your neck. “You’d be a great mother.”
No.
No.
No.
This can’t be happening—
You’re pulled into another set of arms. These ones leaner yet more possessive than the Viltrum Mark’s. But not yours.
“Jesus what the fuck is wrong with you.” Mohawk Mark’s voice rasps mockingly above you, his arm curling around you and dangerously close to your breasts. You know he feels your heart stop, snorting cruelly as he pulls you flush against him. His gloved hand tilts your chin up to him cruelly, relishing in the way tears well in your eyes.
“P-Please…” You weakly claw at his wrist despite knowing how useless it is in comparison to his innate strength.
Holy fuck, he could get used to the sound of that.
Man, why couldn’t you be a girl in his world too? Oh, the things he would do to you. How he would ruin you. He wonders if you’re similar to his [Name], the [Name] who trusted him to do the right thing only to die trying to stop what’s already been done. Do you play the same sport as your male counterpart? Enjoy the same food? Ah, whatever, you’re still his, no matter his relation to you. Best friend or otherwise.
“Get away from her you fucking freak!” Your Mark’s garbled voice reaches your ears, his fist colliding with the side of the mohawked variant’s head, sending him careening into the white-clad Viltrumite. Mark doesn’t even get the chance to look over you before he shoots into the air with you in his hold, tucking your head into his shoulder as he whispers calming words into the crown of your head. “I’ve got you, baby,” he echoes his prior sentiment, flying as fast as he can with the cloth-mask and Omni-Man wannabe hot on his tail.
A familiar red glove catches Mark’s leg, snapping it easily. Mark screams, his teeth grinding as he pivots his other leg directly into the variant’s face, no doubt breaking his nose before he crashes into the cloth-masked Mark, who yells obscenities as the two of them crash into the city below.
Finally, silence settles between the two of you. Heavy with confusion. Heavy with fear.
“What the hell was that…” You cling to him, trembling like a newborn fawn in his hold.
“I—I don’t know.” He buries his nose in your neck as he lowers into a desolate field miles away from any civilization, breathing in your comforting scent beneath the smell of iron and ash that seem to cling to your skin while he settles against a tree. The field is peaceful; untouched by the destruction that plagues the rest of the world.
“...What about Eve and the others?” You hesitate, palms hovering over his broken leg to do your best to put the limb back together. The bone melds back together grotesquely, it's disgusting snap a sound you think you’ll never get used to.
“Eve slipped away before things got ugly. I’m not too sure about the others…” He lets out a low hiss, his fingers digging into the ground when his skin gets pulled tautly back into place. “I’m just glad you’re okay. I won’t let them get to you, not as long as I’m still breathing, alright?”
“Okay,” you breathe out, collapsing into his chest as you try not to think about everything you’ve lost in such a short amount of time. He kisses your forehead gently, leaning back against the tree for only a moment of respite.
“Aww, what a cute sight.” A patronizing voice overhead has both of you snapping your heads to the sound. Clad in yellow and black with a billowing cape behind him, this version of Mark sneers, his gaze looking between you and Mark. His brows raise beneath his mask, lips forming something akin to a sadistic grin. “Well, well, well. You’re looking a bit different here, aren’t you, [Name]?”
I just saw your sinister mark head cannons and seeing the way u described omni mark makes me wanna wanna know some omni mark head cannons of yours🌝🌝
ಇ the perfect example of ‘husband material’ in his eyes, but in reality his courting could use some work. when mark acknowledged your existence, for the very first time since he’s gotten his way powers, he messed up landing on the ground. rather, he crash landed into his mothers tomato garden, covered in the barely ripe juices. heavily frustrated and landing a mean glare at you, his eyes couldn’t help but soften at the way you were so effortlessly pleasing to the eye.
ಇ has softly pinched your hip or gives you a ‘really?’ look whenever you curse around him. even being from afar mark will be able to hear the loud ‘fuck!’ you let out after dropping your cup of water. you don’t need to call out for mark, he’s already there and quickly finished the task he was doing beforehand. he’ll pick up the cup and set it down into the sink before turning to you with his arms crossed, his eyebrows furrowed as he spoke, “i thought we established no more swearing?” he’ll accept your apology, for now at least.
ಇ mark didn’t have the joys of being allowed to have a normal childhood, his father was cruel and shamed mark for his powers not arriving sooner then later. despite this, mark grew up still idolizing his father because he was one of the worlds sole protectors, he wanted to be just like his when his powers would come. he hated going back to his home, the cold house never felt an ounce of warmth since they’ve been there. his mother wasn’t even at the house often either, consuming herself in her work, and the times she is home she’s always drinking her wine. marks had to clean up some of the wine spills debbie’s left, while shes passed out on the white couch. he never felt so much warmth before in his life until he met you, mark will never let you go.
ಇ pet was a term his father used on his mother in front of mark, he never understood growing up why his mother would never say anything in regards. she would stand there and listen, that would unease him. you weren’t a pet, mark didn’t view you as one either. you were way beyond those standards, and mark knew that he doesn’t want the same relationship his parents have. he’ll marry you one day, where the two of you stand and eat your ridiculously enormous cake and laugh together, that’ll be the day mark has the biggest smile on his face. 
ಇ the thought of producing children together has crossed his mind more then once, at least a few times a day he’ll think about the children running in and out of the house while you sit on the couch and watch them. mark knew he didn’t want one child, growing up alone with no siblings or cousins didn’t socialize him enough. in a dream, he imagined you both having three little girls and two boys. he’d regularly ditch being a hero to come and stay home, helping you raise the little village you both created, making memories as a family. this will happen later in the future, regardless if you can bare children or not mark won’t hesitate to kidnap a few GDA members and kindly asking them to create a copy using both your DNA.
ಇ affection wasn’t something that he was used to, a simple pat on the back from his father was all he’d get for completing a task without mistakes. his mother used to be tender and kind when he was way younger, but she lost her touch the older he got, especially after his powers. your gentle nature was entirely different from his life, you’d effortlessly would show him how to love and mark would try not to mess it up. the lingering touches, holding hands in public, kissing him every where, mark felt like he was a sinner whenever you’d show an ounce of love to him. the late nights of you wrapping yourself around his body, his arm over your shoulder as he stares up at the ceiling. he shouldn’t be allowed to feel so relaxed and calm, yet you bring a feeling of euphoria.
…
“the purest form inside of a human, who’d knew.”
a/n: i slept until one sorry guys.. anyways more head canons coming up soon! i pushed this one before mohawk mark cuz i got like 5 different rq for omni mark lol
warning: contains pornographic links to Invincible. not recommended for minors. links taken from X (formerly Twitter). reader with vagina
Mark Grayson
• He likes it when you're in charge.
• He pants heavily when you proboca him.
• Mark is impressed when you do that to his penis.
Mark Sinister
• He loves you silently and using accessories.
• Love will strengthen you.
• He would definitely do it.
Omni-Mark
• He likes to fuck you while you watch him.
• Suck her pussy like a champion.
• Sometimes, he lets you take charge.
Viltrumite Mark
• Want to fill your pussy with cum
• He does NOT like to use condoms.
• He wants to drive you crazy with his dick
Mohawk Mark
• He's definitely going to use his own fingers to widen her vagina and anus.
• You just have to accept it silently.
• Did I mention that he loves playing with his anus?
Masked Mark
• He likes to feel you with his fingers
• You can use it, he likes it.
• He loves to worship you.
Atomic Eve
• ✂️
• Maybe she likes sucking pussy too much.
• Play with her pussy too s2
Author's note: Hi everyone! How are you all doing? I hope you're well. Well folks, I'm in heat, my libido is through the roof, and I decided to bring you this slightly different chapter. I hope you enjoyed it.Do you want other characters? Let me know here and I'll take care of it 💓 See you next time!
summary: How's Batsis!Reader holding up in the other Invincible universes?
pairing(s): al ghul!batsis!reader x invincible variants, hence: viltrumite mark, mohawk mark, sinister mark, omni-mark and maskless mark! i know there are more but be aware that this just is how most of the batsis in the other universes are doing anyway lmao
warnings: headcanon format, baby making mentions, unhealthy relationships, mention of harems and murder lmao, at some point this gets kinda dark ngl... not detailed, but it's implied pretty heavily that most variants kept reader under captivity, suicide, implied domestic violence
author's note: (kinda) requested by @xirquen! i just wanted to get this out of my system really 💔 i fear my favoritism for viltrumite mark is showing but anyways... he's the only ooc one i fear
original fic ⮕ fighting the hating the boyfriend final boss(es)
VILTRUMITE MARK:
the only reality where reader ended up being treated like a queen and not a prisoner lmfao 😭
i imagine that batsis stayed with the al ghuls in this reality, and got raised as heir by ra's. damian probably surrendered to being her right hand and bodyguard, and when eventually the pit stops working for ra's and he dies, the league passes down to her.
as the shadows were probably the only humans prone to surrendering to the viltrumites, seeing as they recognised their power and how useless fighting back would've been, i like to think that viltrumite mark immediately got interested in batsis!reader. mostly because you volunteered to take over the planet with the league in his stead as a show of loyalty LMAO.
girly you wanted that place in the empire BAD. the viltrumites propose to end world hunger and the environmental crisis in weeks when ra's didn't manage to do so in 800 years, so what if a few thousand (maybe millions) of people have to die? they're not your monkeys anyway...
in this universe, the reader isn't the one we know, as she's probably died multiple times and is thus stronger thanks to the effects of the lazarus pit. hence viltrumite mark, completely oblivious that her strength is absolutely explainable, thinking that her unnatural ability and her utter agreement to the viltrumite cause must be signs from the universe that she's the mate the universe designated for him.
honestly, nothing about your relationship would ever be considered normal, but you guys are just freaky like that. you like the idea of having a half-viltrumite offspring to bring on the league's heritage for thousands of years when you'll inevitably succumb to ra's' same fate (hence see your relationship, and later on marriage by the league's laws, as more of a deal rather than anything else) while mark might just actually be kinda interested in you aside from the whole baby-making quest.
while all of this is happening on earth, on viltrum thragg calls for an emergency meeting with the other soldiers because?? why tf is their best soldier worrying about procreating instead of conquering the planet like he was asked to??
MOHAWK MARK:
bro actually hates you so much that you're like that one itch he never managed to scratch.
until he just kills you off ofc ❤️ then proceeds to spend the rest of his life trying to make women around him resemble you as much as possible because AT LEAST YOU MADE HIM FEEL SOMETHING. it seems this guy doesn't get the difference between sexual frustration and pure unadulterated hate, and the girls around him dressed up as you aren't even half the person you used to be. this could've been a good enemies to lovers but he just HAD to kill you.
so, that's just great. now he's got a harem of bad pretenders and actresses and he doesn't feel anything but vague indifference towards all of them.
don't tell this dude you're still alive in the main universe pls.
SINISTER MARK:
he's like that one manager who's kinda creepy and most certainly a molester that you can't do ANYTHING about.
another universe where reader got raised by the league! here, ra's was still alive when invincible and omni-man started to take over the world, and again, sided peacefully with the viltrumites, trying to ignore the way the guy absolutely wasn't even listening to him but instead staring into your soul.
sinister mark agrees not to obliterate nanda parbat and all the league with it - on one condition. that he gets to have you.
ra's isn't amused with the request at all. you're his heir, after all, his first grandkid and his best soldier- what is he supposed to do without you? but then again, it's not like any of you have much of a choice. he'll either have you willingly or he'll just take you, and the lot of you figure that going without a fight will be better for both you and the league's sake.
but life with the guy is no joke.
on the way to viltrum (because of course he just HAD to uproot your entire life) you figure that you'll go mad before you even set foot on the planet because the guy. is. crazy. and your grandfather is ra's al ghul, for fuck's sake - so you'd say you've seen some things in your life - but he's just on a whole other level, and not the good kind. let's not forget that this guy literally eats people lmao.
you technically can't escape, seeing as he could obliterate the entirety of nanda parbat with a kick, but that doesn't mean you don't try. every subtle attempt is blocked by the man himself, and while he never manages to get you to admit that you were actively trying to escape, that doesn't mean he can't lock you up in your room for weeks after... just in case.
viltrum is brutal on you. the other viltrumites never seemed to care that you were more fragile than them, and mark cares just enough not to let them do unrepairable damage to you because that's HIS job.
being raised the way she was, i honestly doubt reader would've lasted much in such a humiliating environment. she probably made sure to end it for good as soon as a food knife ended up in her hand.
sinister mark? he was just mad he didn't get to kill you first ngl
OMNI-MARK:
so what if for once it wasn't the league to raise reader, but bruce? :D
in this universe batsis ends up being much softer and kind, and probably has no warrior training whatsoever aside from the self defence lessons her father insisted on giving her. i like to think that onmi-mark and her got together young and were high school sweethearts, and when he killed omni-man and took over the planet, she convinced herself that it was just a fluke - that the boy she'd known for years just had enough of his father and took matters into his own hands.
because with you, he's as he always was. attentive, caring, gentle - sure, once or twice or a few times he was a little too rough and sometimes he raises his voice when not needed to, but so what? everyone has bad days.
even with the whole planet-conqueror thing, he makes it work. the two of you get married in a wedding that couldn't be described as anything but normal - aside from the fact that the father of the bride had to avoid trying to kill the groom because that would've been terribly suicidal - and afterwards he makes sure that you have a nice house, not too big like the manor but not too little, either.
it has a nice yard for your future kids to play in and enough space for you to worry about the decor instead of the morality of it all. nevermind that all the neighbors turn out to be working under your husband and casually just forgot to ever tell you.
soon enough, you're pregnant, and your baby boy ends up looking so much like his father that you wonder if he just used you as an incubator for his clone or something. hopefully he won't turn out like him, tho. bruce is already trying to get you out of a situation that is doomed to fail, and he does not need another manipulator in the equation.
MASKLESS MARK:
the only one with no interest in reader aside from being friends with her.
another batsis who grew up with bruce! you guys met in high school and became fast friends alongside william, and you were also the first one to notice the chemistry between them.
soon it became rare to see mark without you or william around and vice versa - so much so that the teachers are pointing out your friendship at parent meetings, empathizing how rare a bond like yours is.
if mark knows something, it's a given you know it too. at some point words aren't even needed anymore, and a glance is all you guys need to understand what's happening. it's uncanny, really.
but like in most universes, unfortunately, things just have to go downhill.
when mark gets his powers and nolan explains viltrum's true intentions to him, he fights his father. he tells him that he's got friends, people he loves - a vaguely normal future ahead of him that doesn't entail becoming part of a colonial empire built on heinous acts like genocides and planet obliterations.
so nolan proceeds to do the only thing that comes to his mind - he destroys that future while mark, beaten to an inch of his life, isn't able to do anything. first, william. then, eve. last, you.
nolan holds a hand around debbie's neck and tells mark that unless he changes his idea about the empire right now, his mother will follow the 'other insects' to the grave. and mark's already seen too much death to try denying him again.
this absolutely isn't me planning a whole other fic with the variants coming to the main universe nooo...
virgin!reader who gets flustered by just making out with omni-mark.
he finds it annoying when you squirm too hard in his open lap, the grip on the back of your neck is slickening the grip he has on it with sweat. the jaw aching minutes of un-interrupted kissing has all lead up to this very moment.
his free hand has been heavily rooted to your right hip, squeezing thin bird bone between thumb and remaining gloved fingers. it's a good guide to help focus your squirming into something more productive.
he finds it cute when you can cum from just having your tongue sucked on and ever so slightly letting his hips dig and grind up into your soaked cunt. your eyes rolling backwards, lashes gluing together with gloopy clumps of watery mascara. your jaw slacked and strings of drool tie the both of you together. his open maw inhales the heavy nearly visible clouds you exhale out. it's something out of a brain rotted animated cartoon based around sex he's glanced at once.
the tv program failed to copy how a innocent virgin like you, comes apart so easily and looks like the prime example of what a slut should look like.
Pairing: Main!Mark Grayson x f!Reader | Viltrumite!Mark x f!Reader | Sinister!Mark x f!Reader | No Goggles/Lensless!Mark x f!Reader | Omni!Mark x f!Reader | Shiesty!Mark x f!Reader | Mohawk!Mark x f!Reader
Warnings: Umm there’s a mention of Lensless making his dick jump LMAO but that’s it
Tags: Fluff, comedy, romance, just cute silliness – you get the vibe
Word Count: uhhh the whole thing’s 3,236 but each part for all the variants is between 350-650
Synopsis: It’s so nice to have a superhuman boyfriend who relishes in the idea of you being so weak and helpless, he does EVERYTHING for you. Except, also, sometimes it’s kind of annoying and you just want to do things on your own. So when he’s gone on a mission that’s supposed to last a few days? You plan to take FULL advantage. Only, he comes back sooner than expected…
a/n: man, sorry i’ve been dropping the ball on posting lately. i wasn’t lying when i said losing all my old shit really killed my motivation. BUT i’ve been going dumb reading this comic and bruhhh i’m SHOOK by some of the differences – i digress. i feel myself slowly getting back to my usual grind so pls hang in there with me lovies!!!!
also, Shiesty is DEFINITELY my fav from this series lmaoo
The Set Up...
The thing about being home alone was that it gave you the rare chance to get things done.
No overprotective Viltrumite boyfriend hovering the moment you touched anything over ten pounds. No “babe, let me do it” every time you reached for the step stool. Just peace, music, and the triumphant satisfaction of moving the bookshelf to the wall it should’ve been on this entire time.
You’d nearly gotten it there, too—angled just right, towel under the bottom, scooting it across the floor one slow, squeaky inch at a time.
Main!Mark
You were mid-push, maneuvering the big bookshelf across the floor with a towel under it for glide, when you heard the familiar whoosh of a landing behind you.
“Hey, I’m—whoa.”
You turned around, sheepish but proud. “Hi!”
Mark stood there, mask off, still in his suit, eyes flicking between you and the halfway-moved bookshelf. “Were you… moving that by yourself?”
“Technically yes. But, like, strategically. No lifting. Full physics. Minimum chaos.”
He blinked. “That’s… kind of impressive.”
You beamed. “Thanks!”
He nodded slowly, scratching the back of his neck. “I mean, yeah, no—super cool. Really cool. Totally capable. Independent. You got this.”
You tilted your head. “You okay?”
“Me? Yeah. I’m good.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“Mark.”
He scuffed his foot across the floor, eyes cast down. “It’s just… you didn’t wait for me.”
“I didn’t think you’d want to help me push furniture around after flying halfway around the world.”
“Still,” he muttered, glancing at the bookshelf. “It’s kind of my thing, y’know? Being helpful. Picking up stuff. Making your life easier. Super strength is kind of… my niche.”
Your chest ached a little. He wasn’t mad—just quietly, adorably bummed. Like a golden retriever watching someone else throw the ball.
So, naturally, you took two steps back, turned just slightly, and just happened to stub your toe on the side of the coffee table.
Loudly.
“OW—oh my god, ow, okay nope, I’m dying,” you yelped, grabbing your foot and hopping in place.
Mark was instantly at your side, arms out. “Wait, what happened?! Are you okay?!”
“Stubbed my toe,” you whimpered. “On the corner. I think it—ohhh nooo it’s broken.”
He crouched in front of you like a concerned EMT. “Which foot?! Can you walk? Want me to carry you to the couch??”
You blinked at him with wide, innocent eyes. “Would you?”
He was already scooping you up, like a knight cradling a wounded princess. “Of course. I’ve got you.”
You let your head fall dramatically against his shoulder, hiding your grin. “My hero.”
He smiled. A real one this time. “You can move bookshelves, sure. But I’m still the toe-stubbing emergency response team.”
You kissed his cheek. “See? Still irreplaceable.”
A pause.
“…You faked that, didn’t you.”
“No comment.”
Viltrumite!Mark
“…Sweetheart?”
You froze.
“Are you… are you moving that? Alone?”
You turned to see Mark standing in the doorway, uniform still on, brow furrowed in a mix of horror and disbelief, like he’d just caught a toddler wielding a chainsaw.
You opened your mouth to explain—but something in his expression gave you pause.
So instead, you took a slow, shaky breath… and rested the back of your hand against your forehead.
“Ohh…” you sighed. “You’re right. That was… so reckless of me.”
He was at your side in a blink.
“[Y/N],” he murmured, already cradling your face in his hands, inspecting you like you might crumble. “You should’ve waited for me. What if you got hurt? That shelf is solid wood.”
“I just… I didn’t want to bother you,” you said softly, leaning into the moment. “But I feel so faint now…”
He gently brushed your hair from your face, voice dropping to a near-whisper. “You shouldn’t be lifting a finger. Not when I’m here. Let me take care of you.”
You almost felt bad.
…Almost.
Mark pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Go sit down. I’ll finish this.”
You gave him your best helpless nod, then flopped dramatically onto the couch as he lifted the bookshelf with one hand and carried it across the room like it was empty.
“Okay,” he said. “Where do you want it?”
You sat up, pointing. “Against that wall, just—yeah, right there. No, wait—actually a little to the left.”
He adjusted.
“Hmm. No, sorry, more to the right.”
Another adjustment.
“Okay, now turn it a bit. Clockwise. No, my clockwise. Yeah, okay—wait, back a bit.”
He tilted his head. “Back? Or back back?”
You squinted. “Like… scooch it. A half scooch.”
He sighed (very soft, very loving), and scooched.
You stared.
“…Okay, I think it’s—wait. Nope. Now it’s too far.”
Mark blinked. “Sweetheart...”
You gave a long-suffering sigh and dropped your head into your hands. “This is why I just wanted to do it myself.”
He chuckled—low and warm—then gently tapped your knee. “And miss out on being treated like royalty? Why deprive yourself of such a treat?”
You smiled softly "Very good point..." Then you paused, glanced at the shelf and looked up at him again. “If I’m royalty, does that mean I can tell you to move it back to where it was?”
His face went stony for a moment, but then was already turning. “Only for you...”
You smiled. “I love you so much.”
Mark was ready to move planets that point.
Sinister!Mark
You were halfway through dragging the bookshelf across the floor when your body stilled.
The hair on the back of your neck rose. The air shifted. Then you heard his voice. Smooth. Amused.
“…Interesting choice of project.”
Your blood froze. No. There's no way he's already back, is he?
You turned your head slowly, painfully, like a horror movie character about to meet their doom.
There he was. Standing in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes glowing faintly red, with the kind of cold smirk that said “so this is how you betray me.”
Without even thinking – no hesitation, zero shame – you let out a gasp, dramatically tripping over the edge of the towel you’d been using to slide the shelf on and falling down in what felt like slow motion.
The entire bookshelf tipped sideways with you, crashing to the floor with a thunderous BOOM.
Books everywhere. You sprawled in the wreckage like a tragic Victorian heroine struck down by an airborne piano.
“OHHH NOOOO!” you wailed, arm flung across your face. “Why did I think I could do this alone?! I was so foolish! I was so fragile!”
Mark was in front of you before the dust even settled, crouched low, eyes narrowed as he looked over the scene. Not at the bookshelf. Not at the mess.
At you.
You peeked between your fingers. “Is it bad? Am I concussed? Paralyzed?”
He tilted his head. “You’re not hurt.”
“I’m emotionally hurt.”
“You don’t have a scratch on you.”
You whimpered. “But what if I had? I—I thought I was strong enough, but I’m just a weak little thing, aren’t I?”
He leaned in close, his tone syrupy and sharp. “That’s exactly what I’ve been saying.”
You gave a broken little sigh. “You were right. You were so right. It was arrogant of me to think I could do things on my own.”
Mark finally smirked something deep and you felt a wave of relief rush through you. “Well. At least you’ve learned something today.”
He gently lifted you into his arms, stepping over fallen books like they were debris after an explosion. “You won’t be lifting so much as a fork without my help from now on.”
You clung to him like a damsel in distress. “Oh nooo, what a shame.”
He paused at the doorway and looked down at you.
“You’re not lying to me, are you?” he asked, voice suddenly low and flat. “Because you know I’ll find out.”
You blinked up at him with wide, innocent eyes. “Mark. My bookshelf fell on me. I’m lucky to be alive.”
His eyes searched your face for a long, unnerving moment… then he smirked again. Kissed your forehead.
“Good girl.”
You sighed dramatically, burying your face in his chest as he floated you off to the couch.
Another day, another tragedy avoided. Except for your bookshelf, you supposed...
No Goggles/Lensless!Mark
You were really just starting to make progress on the move when you heard it.
Click.
Thud.
“Hey,” Mark said casually, suddenly perched on top the bookshelf and looking down at you with a lazy grin. “Didn't realize you were this strong, babe. You ever think about joining the Viltrumite army?”
“Wha—Mark!” you gasped, heart racing just a bit. “W-What the hell are you doing?!”
“Just watching you work, babe! Gotta say—I’m impressed. Keep going. Show me whatcha got.”
You flushed a bit. “…But you’re sitting on it.”
Mark gave you a dramatic blink. “Yeah, and? I mean look at you! You’re so strooong, move it with me on it.”
“Mark...”
“C’mon!” He kicked his feet a little. “Let’s see that strength. I’ll just stay here and supervise.”
“…Can you get off please?”
“Nope. You’ve got this. I believe in you.”
You furrowed your brows, pouting for a bit. “Alright. Fine.” You braced yourself and tried to nudge the bookshelf forward, only for it to not move an inch under the added weight of your lovely, idiotic boyfriend.
He grinned even wider. “Aww, is the strong woman struggling?”
You scowled, leaning back off the piece of furniture. “I can’t do it with you on it. Get off.”
“Nah, I’m comfy.” He shrugged. “But if you really need help, I guess I could show you how it’s done.”
Before you could say anything, he jumped down and scooped you up in one smooth motion, plopping you onhis shoulder like you were a prize.
“Don’t worry, baby girl,” he says with a sigh. “I got this.” He reached over with one hand and picked the bookshelf up like it was a cardboard box.
“Wait, but—I didn’t even tell you where to put it!”
He grinned as he moved it toward the far corner of the room. “Right here’s perfect.”
“Noo, I wanted it on that wall.”
“Ehh, I’m feeling this spot more. Looks better, don’t you think?”
“Mark, I’m serious, that’s not—”
“You’ll love it,” he said with a laugh, already walking away from it and towards the sofa. “Trust me. I’ve got an eye for these things.”
You thought about arguing but stopped yourself short, realizing there was no point. He wasn’t even listening.
Mark kicked the couch aside with a careless boot and dropped down into the cushions like a king on his throne, moving you smoothly to straddle his waist. His grin was wide and feral, hair a little messy, pupils blown.
He looked very pleased with himself.
“Yup,” he said, hands sliding to your hips, smug as hell. “Pretty strong, babe. Got, like... crazy stats.”
You couldn’t help but look a bit amused. “….Stats?”
“Oh, you know,” he said casually, voice dropping as his eyes dragged slowly over your body. “Strength. Speed. Stamina. Core control.”
You bit back a smile.
“Wanna see what else I can do?” he grinned, and didn’t wait to hear your answer. You suddenly became very aware of the repeated tapping between your thighs.
He was making his dick jump.
You choked.
“Mark!”
Omni!Mark
You were halfway through dragging the bookshelf across the living room when his voice cut through the space like a blade.
“You shouldn’t be doing that.”
You froze, hands still on the edge of the shelf. “Jesus—Mark?”
He stepped into view from the hallway, calm and unreadable, but his gaze was locked on your hands. On the effort. On your shoulders straining beneath your t-shirt.
“I thought you weren’t getting back until tomorrow,” you said, breath catching just slightly.
He said nothing to that. Just looked down at the shelf. Then back at you.
“I’m fine,” you offered, trying to keep your tone light. “Promise this might come as a surprise, but humans move furniture all the time. There’s a whole job field for it, actually. Movers. Crazy, right?”
The corner of his mouth twitched downward. Clearly not amused.
“I know you’re capable,” he said, stepping closer. His voice dropped a little. “Of more than you’ll ever give yourself credit for.” You blinked. “But this?” His gaze flicked to the shelf again. “You shouldn’t have to do this. Not with your hands.”
“My hands are fine.”
He reached out and gently took your palm in his — and suddenly, the shelf didn’t exist anymore. The room didn’t exist. Just his fingers wrapping around yours, warm and impossibly careful.
“These hands,” he said, brushing his thumb along your knuckles, “shouldn’t be calloused from dragging wood and steel. They should stay soft.”
You opened your mouth — probably to argue, maybe to scoff — but no words came out. Just heat. Everywhere.
“I don’t protect you because I think you’re weak,” he murmured, voice low and steady. “I protect you because I can. Because you’re the only softness in a world that doesn’t deserve it.”
And just like that, you were putty. Your entire body went slack under his gaze, your throat thick, breath gone. Your fingers curled a little tighter into his without even meaning to.
“…You’re not playing fair,” you whispered.
His other hand lifted to your face, thumb brushing just under your cheekbone.
“I never said I was fair,” he said quietly. “Only that you’re mine.”
You nodded, helplessly. Of course. Obviously.
And when he leaned down to kiss you — slow, reverent, like you were something holy — you realized the bookshelf could stay exactly where it was.
Forever, even.
Didn’t matter anymore.
Shiesty!Mark
The bookshelf barely budged as you leaned your weight into it with a frustrated grunt. You were so close to getting it where you wanted it.
“You tryna remodel or build muscle, bae?”
You froze at the very familiar but very unexpected voice.
Mark stood in the doorway, one brow raised, smirking like he’d walked in on you cheating with another man — who just so happened to be made of plywood and frustration.
“You weren’t supposed to be home yet,” you said, trying not to sound as guilty as you felt.
“Clearly,” he said, strolling in like he owned the floor (and the ceiling, and probably you). “You out here grinding furniture across the floor like a damn forklift. Did I miss the call for backup?”
You sighed. “It’s not that heavy. I’ve almost got it.”
Mark leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching you like a man enjoying premium entertainment. “Oh no, go on. Don’t let me stop you. I love a strong woman. Grrr,” he teased, flexing his bicep in mock solidarity.
You rolled your eyes and turned back to the shelf. “It’s just gotta slide like three more inches—”
“Oh you tryna get precise with it,” he cut in. “Okay, okay, I see you. Interior design. Feng shui. Heavy lifting. Very sexy of you.”
“I swear to God, Mark—” Before you could finish, he was already behind you.
“I got it,” he said, voice suddenly softer, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Don’t hurt yourself, pretty.”
You stepped aside reluctantly as he crouched, rolled his shoulders back, and—because of course he did—lifted the bookshelf with one hand.
You blinked. “Did you... just curl it?”
He grinned, looking at you over his shoulder. “You like that? That was rep one. Want me to rack up a few sets? Maybe do a little shoulder press while you admire the view?”
“Mark.”
“Say it again like that and I’ll drop this bookshelf just to carry you to the bedroom instead.”
You would’ve choked if you’d been drinking something.
He moved the shelf exactly where you’d wanted it, then turned and leaned in close, mouth brushing yours. “See? I do listen. Sometimes.”
You melted. A little. Maybe a lot.
“So,” he said casually, already lifting you like a backpack, “wanna rearrange anything else while I’m warmed up? Your guts, maybe?”
“Mark!”
“Babe, I’m just tryna be helpful.”
Mohawk!Mark
You braced both feet against the floor, gave the bookshelf one last stubborn shove, and managed to move it a grand total of two inches.
You stepped back, breathing heavy, hands on your hips.
“Gotta ask,” came a gravel-rough voice behind you, “you movin’ that thing for fun or outta spite?”
You jumped. “Jesus—Mark! Warn a girl!”
He leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, suit already halfway unzipped and his hair looking a little messier than usual.
“You weren’t supposed to be back yet,” you muttered, brushing your hair out of your face.
“Clearly,” he said, pushing off the doorframe and strolling in with that easy, heavy gait. “Figured I’d come home and find you curled up on the couch. Not out here goin’ to war with a damn bookcase.”
“I wasn’t—I am perfectly capable, thank you.”
“Sure you are,” he said, like he was humoring a toddler insisting they could drive.
“I am!”
He stopped in front of you, looking down at your flushed face and dirt-smudged palms. His gaze dropped to your hands, then back up to your eyes.
“Babe,” he said, voice lower now, quieter. “You don’t gotta play tug-of-war with your furniture every time I’m not in the room. You miss me? Call me. I’ll fly in, carry you and the couch if you need.”
You opened your mouth as if intending to explain your reasoning, but he was already moving. Already crouching. Already sliding one hand beneath the bookshelf like it weighed nothing.
With a casual exhale, he lifted it off the ground and nodded toward the other wall.
“Point where you want it.”
You furled in your lower lip, trying to ignore how hot this was. “...There,” you mumbled.
He walked it over. No strain. No effort. Just raw, grounded strength like it was part of his muscle memory now.
He set it down exactly where you needed it before turning to you again, rubbing sorely at the back of his neck.
“You good now?” he asked. “You wrestled the inanimate object. I showed up to finish the job. Domestic bliss achieved?”
You smiled, trying not to laugh. “I’m good. Thanks.”
He gave you that familiar crooked smile. “Next time just call,” he muttered. “You think I won’t drop a whole planetary threat just to come move furniture? Priorities.”
You snorted. “Didn’t want to bother you.”
He stepped a little closer, lifting your chin with two fingers. “You’re never a bother,” he said, voice just slightly softer now. “Maybe a bad decision, sometimes. But never a bother.”
You were biting hard into your bottom lip at this point, really trying to hold back your smile.
“…Bet you want me to carry you around now, too?” he asked, already bending to hook an arm under your thighs.
All you could do was squeal and giggle as he hoisted you up bridal-style, with a dramatic grunt that was absolutely just for show.
“There we go,” he muttered, planting a kiss on your temple. “Soft hands, remember? You keep ‘em pretty. I’ll do the heavy lifting. And the thinking. And the rescuing. You? You just sit there and look smug.”
You melted into his chest with a sigh. “Well, I was doing just fine before you showed up.”
He snorted as he lowered onto the couch, pulling you into his lap. “Yeah, you moved it a whole two inches. Might as well call NASA.”
You leaned back slightly, lips twitching. “I did move it though.”
He gave you a slow, unimpressed blink.
Then muttered, “You want a trophy or a chiropractic bill?”
You laughed—loud and warm—and when he leaned in to kiss you again, you didn’t even mind the dirt smudge still on your hands.
