Main!Mark is canonically on bottom. Poor guy’s so scared of hurting you that he refuses to entertain any other position. BUT that doesn’t mean he’s opposed to some creativity 😏 he lets you take the lead and try out all the positions you’d like from up there. At the end of the day though he really is a simple man and loves the standard, forward facing cowgirl position. He wants to see that beautiful face he loves so much when he finishes.
Viltrumite!Mark has you in a mating press 99% of the time. He’s got a mission to fulfill, after all, and he takes that job very seriously. Your legs folded up against your chest while he drills into you like he’s trying to find something with the tip of his dick. The lead up though is a stark contrast that’s all soft worship and reverent eyes, his calloused fingertips ghosting over your skin in a way that lets you know he’s beside himself with how much he admires you.
Lensless!Mark is a connoisseur of all the positions, and sticking to any one gets him bored quick. He does seem to have a preference for flying sex however. Not the usual idea of him laid back while you go to town on top of him—no no, Lensless likes it when he’s upright in the air with you bent forward in front of him, moving you on his cock like a toy. He leaves bruises on your hips from how impossibly hard he has to grip you, his thumbs digging into the fat at the top of your ass while he has a field day from behind; all toothy grins and manic eyes. An honorary mention would be 69 (also airborne, of course).
Sinister!Mark actually prefers getting head over anything else. The absolute power of having his cock buried in your mouth, making you gag and tear up—it gives him a high that’s unmatched. He takes his time, eyes glazed over and lips just slightly parted as he watches you, moving his hips slowly to watch as his length makes a visible bulge in your throat. He likes to leave you choking so intensely you barely elude passing out. And right when you’re on the edge, he pulls his dick past your lips with a pop! and pushes you onto your back, your legs spreading on instinct while he finishes off inside you. He keeps a hand on your throat until the end.
Omni!Mark likes missionary. One hand gripping your thigh and hiking it up his side while he watches your face intensely, gauging each little reaction. He becomes obsessed with breaking you in a strategic way, bullying your insides until he finds that one spot that makes your lashes flutter and pupils drift upward. You never get the chance to see it, considering the way your eyes are desperately rolled to the back of your head, but it’s one of the few times Omni actually smiles. Well, it’s really more of a smirk of satisfaction, but still. The sentiment stands.
Shiesty!Mark is a huge supporter of the reverse cowgirl. He’s cocky beyond words and firmly believes his cock is superior in every way possible. To be dicked down by him (in his mind) is a blessing and you should be grateful to even have the chance to sit on it. He’s usually got one hand behind his head and the other alternating between smacking and harshly gripping your ass. He loves to watch you from that angle. He’s also the biggest perpetrator of dirty talk. “Fuck bae, you movin’ like your life depends on it. This dick got you losin’ your mind.”
Prisoner!Mark actually has a similar thought process as Main as far as being concerned with hurting you goes. He insists on being on bottom for a long time, but he’s convincible (--TITLE CARD--). Your sweet voice and gentle touch coaxes him to try something new. Nothing crazy, of course. He’s still cautious with you. In fact you’re still technically on top, but he’s controlling all the motion. He’s sat up right with you in his lap while you both move in synch with each other. His hands guide you, dragging you across his length (also scarred, which is like a built in “ribbed for your pleasure” type deal) until you both break together. And it is always together. He insists on it.
Mohawk!Mark is getting it from the back every. Single. Time. In his most ideal scenario, you’re bent over something – usually a piece of furniture – and he is relentless with the backshots. He’s got a shit eating grin on his face the entire time that only grows devious the louder he gets you to scream. The jiggle of your ass as it slaps back against his thighs is his favorite. When the getting is particularly good, he’s grabbing you by the hair and pulling you back into him, your back arching and head resting on his collarbone while he pushes you over the edge. The man’s got arguably the highest stamina of them all so his climax isn’t coming until you’ve finished at least three times.
Retro!Mark likes it when you’re both on your side, him spooned in behind you while he hooks an arm around your waist possessively, keeping you anchored to him. Of all the versions of Mark, he surprisingly seems to be the only one who zeroes in on your clit, and this position gives him the easiest access to it. Whether he’s doing it because he genuinely wants you to feel ultimate pleasure or if it just happens to be his own turn on, no one knows. Either way, his fingers work miracles on that sensitive bundle of nerves. When he’s ready to bring it home he’ll slide a hand down to your knee and hold your leg up to angle deeper until you’re seeing nothing but stars.
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.
PAIR: Mark Grayson x Reader, Sinister! Mark x Reader, Mohawk! Mark x Reader, No Goggles! Mark x Reader, Viltrumite! Mark x Reader
SYNOPSIS: He finds you crying.
WARNINGS: mentions of violence, not too graphic though, emotionally constipated men
A/N : let me know if you guys liked these!! i love each variant in a different way mwhahah °ʚ(´꒳`)ɞ°
MAIN MARK
he's coming home, but it doesn't matter what from, because the moment he enters your place, the air feels thick, he calls out your name in a sing-song tone, hoping that will ease any tension.
he hears it then, a single shaky breath, and his eyebrows furrow. he rushes to your room to find you lying on your bed, curled up like something hurt, trying to sob quietly, make yourself smaller
rushing over, he panics. mark grayson is panicking because you look hurt, and he can't stand the sight of his partner hurt
"(Y/N)? Please tell me what's wrong, are you hurt?" he rasps in his voice, hands hovering over your body, looking at you like your entire body is a bruise
"I-I just tried to come back home and I tripped and skinned my knees, then I came home and ordered food and they messed it up, and then I tried to cook but it—" you're cut off by a sob racking through your body like thunder, every emotion is high and rehashing the horrible day makes you unable to stop
he gives you his puppy dog eyes before gently moving himself into the bed beside you caressing your face, and pressing his body agaisnt yours being careful to avoid grazing your knees
comfort, mark will always give you comfort he holds you close as your sobs die down to a sniffle
"I'm sorry your day was so bad... Let me help make it better, I'm gonna be right back." he gives you a small grin before pecking your forehead and speeding out of your place
he comes back 10 minutes later with a bowl of what looks like ice cream
"I got you gelato, it's from Italy, so it's the real deal." he bashfully hands you the bowl, and you flash him a smile, his ears tinge red
SINISTER MARK
this one is the most unstable; therefore, his responses can tend to vary depending on his mood, this man is devoted to you but he's not a lovesick fool
at first, he won't take you seriously, eyes watery, snot running, hair like a birds nest, he may even make fun of you because he doesn't think there's any real reason you have to be upset. he listens in rapture, a weird sense of pleasure he basks in while you sob, especially if you're crying over him, expect him to dryly laugh in your face if that's the case
"You're so cute when you cry, it's not like I'm ever letting you go."
"I-I Mark please," you'd beg, he'd stare at you with empty eyes, raking his fingers through your messy hair
now, if your tears are because of something someone did, like if someone, somehow, hurt you, he doesn't take kindly to someone hurting what's his, he'll lap at your tears while whispering how no one will ever touch you again, caressing your face, the person is already locked away, limbs cracked and bent wrong
"The dumbest vermin I've ever witnessed," he spat in their face before leaving them in the mess of their own bodily fluids
MOHAWK MARK
there's two versions of him in my head, one is more callous, and finds it hard to speak sweet things to you, the other does it easily because he loves big, gross and obsessively (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)
this mark is unhinged but differently, his eyes shoot over to you crying, and at first he also wishes to laugh a little because c'mon they look so cute crying like that
that dies down quick when your fingers dig into your scalp, desperation clawing into your fingertips— seeping out like spilled water, he's suddenly worried, not used to the feeling, he'll charge towards you, gripping your shoulders like that'll bring you back here, to him in this moment
"Hey, hey, come on, talk to me, what's wrong?"
you're choking on your own spit, and he's getting increasingly more frustrated with your inability to talk. seeing you like this makes him feel wrong; he doesn't like it
"I just, I can't do this," you heave through your chest, he grabs your head and places it on his chest. you hear the thump in his chest, his heart beating just slightly above normal. for a second, he feels human
shakily, your fingers grasp at him instead, clawing their way into him, never hurting him—because that's nearly impossible for you, but you calm down. he lets out a sigh of relief, he's not always there with words, in fact, he sometimes says things that make it worse. so he resorts to letting you know he is there in this moment with you
NO GOGGLES
this one may be a little freak, but deep down he does care about you.....
you're crying— and he doesn't flinch at first, nor does he take the most pleasure out of it either. he is used to hurting people, and normally, he takes immense pleasure in it, especially if they manage to hurt him, but something about seeing your tear-stained cheeks mixed with your pout makes him feel almost... sad? it feels weird to say it out loud
"Don't be that way, c'mon... what happened?" he's already sighing and pulling you into his chest, relishing in the feeling of you weak in his arms; hearing your pulse run like a rabbit his voice honeyed over your ear
you murmur something about not feeling good enough, and he's genuinely confused, fingers tousled in your hair his voice comes out louder then he means to
"If I choose to have you by my side, trust me, you are enough." his voice comes matter-of-factly as he flashes you a grin, you jump a little at the volume but nod your head in agreement
VILTRUMITE MARK
he's most different from all of them; he doesn't hurt because he wants to, it's because he believes he needs to
so when he sees you, the one person he doesn't hurt, no—chooses not to hurt, cry? he isn't sure if he should be upset or not. years of Viltrumite missions have numbed him out to things such as human emotion, so then why does he feel... like something's off, he feels something wrong in the pit of his stomach, like his organs are suddenly heavier in his body
your weak form curled into the couch, shaking like the entire world is screaming at you, he twitches, subtle but there
he begins to make his way to you, smoothing out your hair, almost coaxing you to come out, but he doesn't speak
not yet
your head cranes up to him slowly, and you know something is off with him, you can tell, the subtle expressions, the little twitches, everything that no one else noticed
so when he silently holds your hand, you let him. a tear falls from your eyes and lands on his hand interlaced with yours, you watch his hand tense, just barely, like you'd stung him
"Why?" one word, one syllable, cuts through the air, his voice like a whisper in the apartment, hushing itself like everyone in the world could hear him
"i felt alone." one sentence, one feeling, yet lots of tears, mark feels something in his stomach turn, and his hand tightens again, just slightly
enough to notice
"I'm... not going anywhere," he eventually says after the long silence you two sit in, and you twitch, just barely, enough for him to notice "..so don't feel alone, not with me, never with me." he finishes
this is definitely one of the earlier times of your vulnerability with mark, so he's not as vocal as he would be in the future; nonetheless, you feel a hint of comfort in the sureness of his words. he doesn't say things like that if he doesn't mean it
How would Mark and his variants react to you getting drunk?
[Reference sheet for each variant!]
[Suggestive material below – reader discretion is advised]
Main!Mark would try to play it off like he thought it was funny, but deep inside he’d be kind of freaking out. He wants everyone in his life to be on guard because the universe is fucked, and he can’t be there to protect everyone at every moment of the day. But, at the same time, he knows that you deserve to cut loose and have fun sometimes and the last thing he wants to do is put his fears and burdens on you. So instead he’s half laughing at your drunken antics while doing a full perimeter check every few minutes. Poor man.
Viltrumite!Mark is confused at first. He’s never seen someone drunk before. His people don’t really have the metabolism to get inebriated, and he’s never spent enough time around any other species to see this kind of behavior. Once you explain to him that you are intentionally intoxicated, he goes through several stages of reactions. Judgement. Annoyance. Curiosity. Then finally, genuine amusement. He’s trying to maintain his stoic composure but can’t help but try to mess with you in subtle ways. Like dropping something and asking you to pick it up just to watch you fumble and fall and insist you can get it without help. Yeah. He’s entertained.
Lensless!Mark is searching the entire universe and threatening every scientist known to man to get him something that will allow him to get drunk, too. You look like you’re having so much fun! He wants to be a part of that too. And if he can’t find a way to get liquored up then his own natural crazy endorphins will have to do. He cranks them up to ten (the man has control over his insanity like most people have control of their composure) and starts encouraging you do to the most insane things with him. Drinking and flying is absolutely on the list, and you’re too fucked up to think about how stupidly dangerous it is. This man’s a menace.
Sinister!Mark initially is annoyed, but once he realizes how suggestable and easily manipulated you are in this state, he’s all in. To everyone’s surprise though, he doesn’t get violent. No no, this man gets sexual. He’s getting you to do things you’re normally too shy or prideful to do. He’s bringing out rope and whips and handcuffs. He’s contorting you into positions that you’d normally complain about, but tonight you’re just giggling. The spark in his eyes would leave a sane person scared. But you’re not sane right now. And he left his sanity behind a long time ago. Sinister might be pouring you drinks more often after tonight.
Omni!Mark genuinely doesn’t approve, and you know it. So, you try to hide it. But the hiccups keep slipping out, and your stare is glazed over, and you’ve suddenly acquired the memory span of a goldfish. He asks you outright. “Are you drunk right now?” You just stare back with wide eyes. Your brain like a hamster on a wheel trying to think of a believable lie to hand him. He just rolls his eyes and forces you into bed. As irritated as he is, you’re his mess, and he’ll be damned if you embarrass him outside of that house. Besides, drunk you won't remember how much he lets himself enjoy cuddling you.
Shiesty!Mark is over the moon. If any of the Mark’s can get their hands on Viltrumite-grade alcohol, it’s him. And my man stays with a drink in hand (call him Julian [anyone get the reference??]). He’s grinning that smooth smile, all pretty and looking at you like he’s been praying for this moment all his life. He sits back on a sofa, arms draped over the back, and gestures vaguely in front of him in an open invitation for you. And you know him well enough to know exactly what he’s asking for and for once, you’re more than happy to oblige. You dance for him in a way that’s less than elegant, but the commitment is to be commended. And honestly, it’s the most perfect thing he’s witness in his life. Because it’s you.
Prisoner!Mark likes that you feel comfortable enough around him to get intoxicated like this. He would never join you – not that he’d know how to even if he wanted to – because with your inhibitions lowered keeping you safe becomes a Def Con Level 1 priority. But he’s intentional about not letting you see how on alert he is, because he wants you to enjoy yourself. Your openness in fact encourages him to tell you stories about his time in the Viltrumite prison – something he’s never told you before. He’s sure to keep them on the lighter side though (if anything that happens in that hell hole could be described as light). But seeing you loose makes him want to be a little looser too.
Mohawk!Mark is far too pleased with this situation. He’s teasing you relentlessly. “No way – goody two-shoes actually knows how to get fucked up?” Like the reckless man he is, he’s pushing the limits of your tolerance. Handing you drink after drink, shot after shot, zeroed in on every little stage and change he sees in you. Your nonsensical rambling is hilarious to him, and honestly kind of adorable. He lets himself soften a bit, a rare thing for him, because he knows you won't remember it in the morning and being tender is his own kind of intoxication. The drunker you get, the gentler he becomes until at the end of the night he has you tucked in bed with a glass of water on standby. He loves you dammit. You’ll just never remember.
Retro!Mark is aghast. This is not how a proper adult conducts themselves. He’s seeing a side of you he didn’t know existed and quite frankly, he’s not pleased. He’s ushering you away from any public prying eyes. The last thing he needs is some lowlife schlub thinking you’re easy just because you’re acting foolish. I mean, what are you wanting right now? For him to make a massacre of this bar? For him to rip the intestines from the bartender for not realizing one drink was one too many when it came to you? He gets you on lock down and tries his best not to crack a smile at the way you sing his name and look at him like he put the stars in the sky.
Emperor!Mark surprisingly gets it. He runs an empire. Wine and alcohol flow like a river around that place. He’s never had the luxury of getting sloshed, but he doesn’t mind if you do. He likes seeing you happy, and he knows no one would be stupid enough to step to you and try something out of pocket. In fact, he loves how bold you get. The way you really lean into the “royalty” mentality. Bossing people around (even if you’re giggling afterward) and calling shots like you were born for that lifestyle. He loves it even more when you try to assert dominance on someone and they give a sort of resistance, and all you do is look back over your shoulder at him because you know he’ll handle the rest. And trust, he does. With much pleasure.
Full-Mask!Mark feels a kind of warmth seeing you cut loose so much. He’s so used to being weighed down internally with the shitty cards of life. His mind is cesspool of horror, and normally you try to be so soft and somber with him, like you’re scared any other emotion won’t register correctly. But he knows his heaviness is his own to carry and not yours. So seeing you finally unwind, laugh openly, act silly – he truly relishes in the moment. He’s playing along with any ridiculous game you might want to play and not calling you out when your stories don’t make sense or you forget midsentence what you were talking about. You’re happy. And that means everything to him.
Melee!Mark is probably the best match to your energy on nights like this. You both are typically well-disciplined people. You know how to have fun, no doubt, but you also are both in the mindset of keeping your wits about you. That kind of comes with the territory of living in the universe that you do. But every once in a while, a night of pure release, fun, and relaxation is exactly what is called for. He’s not as privy to the intergalactic alcohol market as Mohawk, Shiesty, or Lensless might be so the chances of him getting drunk with you are pretty slim, but he still finds ways relax fully into the moment. It feels like a night of two drunk college kids on spring break, even if only one of you will properly remember what transpired the next morning.
Thinking about how Mark & his variants would be towards their ex!reader that they still have feelings for…
[Reference sheet for each variant!]
Main!Mark is, unsurprisingly, the most normal about it. He loves you enough to respect your decision to leave, and most likely you ended on good enough terms that you’re able to stay friends afterward. The thing is though, being friends with you is hard for him. Harder than 90% of the fights he finds himself in. It’s a constant battle where he’s convincing himself he’s fine about it, only to slip miserably back down the hill during a group hangout session. In those moments it hits him hard that he is in fact not over you. He thinks about saying something—desperate to know if you still feel something too—but words fail him. Instead, he just smiles and says, “you look happy.” He lets his heart break in silence. He's used to it, after all.
Viltrumite!Mark struggles very, very hard with the concept of you not being his anymore. He tells himself that it’s his nature as a Viltrumite; that letting something go isn’t a part of their psyche as a people. But really? He just can’t accept the fact that you don’t want him anymore. He’s brokenhearted, only he doesn’t have the words for it. He finds himself eating less, struggling to get a full night's sleep, zoning out during empirical meetings. You have to understand that for Viltrumites, there are no “breakups”. If a relationship ends between two Viltrumites it’s because one of them killed the other. The idea of it ending civilly is non-existent in their culture. The loss he’s experiencing is something he doesn’t have words for.
Lensless!Mark doesn’t believe it at first. In fact, it takes him a very, very long time to fully internalize that this isn’t just some game. You really left him. When that realization does finally set in, he quickly becomes the biggest threat to all of humanity. He’s desperate to do something that will get your attention—he doesn’t even care what kind of attention it is. He just needs you to look at him. He needs you to call him again. He needs you yelling his name from the street below while he destroys buildings and lives, because that means he’s still yours. It means you’ll realize that you have the power to do what all the world’s armies couldn’t manage to do; and that’s stop him. For you, he’s plummeting to the pavement below, cratering the ground with his knees. For you, he’s anything. He just needs you to come back.
Sinister!Mark only has dead exes lmao. But you of course are the lucky one: he won’t kill you, because he can’t (though he’d never admit it). Killing you is permanent and he’s not willing to let your absence be a permanent thing. He is however very willing to imprison you ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. He prefers it not be this way but is in no rush to change the circumstances. He doesn’t trust you anymore. He’s seen firsthand exactly what a person will do to escape their fate and he’s not giving you that opportunity. He’s angry with you, no two ways about that, but he never hurts you, because deep down he's extremely hurt too. Just know that his body count skyrockets during this time. Your broken relationship is an absolute detriment to humanity—won’t you take one for the planet and just make up?
Omni!Mark is a sulker. He’s not a man who begs or pleads, but he’s also a Viltrumite. That means letting go of things is very, very unnatural to him. He looks at it from a logistical point of view though: earth is fucked. There’s danger around every corner and factually speaking (in his mind) you are far too valuable to be subjected to the brutalities of the real world. That means he assumes the position of being your shadow guardian. A leaf won't fall near you on your jogs without him knowing it. He doesn’t try to hide it from you though. You’re very aware of him trailing your every move and honestly? You expected nothing less lmao. He doesn’t ever come up to you; doesn't say anything, but god, the looks he gives you from that distance he keeps? 😩 hope you’re stronger than me bitch!! ‘Cause my ass is folding like an origami swan lmao.
Shiesty!Mark is sooo in his feelings about it and is coping in all the worst ways. He’s drinking dawn ‘til dusk, smoking on things that aren’t even from Earth just for a chance of feeling something other than the way his heart is constantly clenched in his chest over you. He’s got multiple bodies in his bed every night... And in the club... And probably other places too, if we’re being real. But when it’s all said and done and he’s wasted at the end of the night? He’s scrolling through his phone and it’s your contact he lands on. The contact name he never changed. Still pinned to the top. Still that photo you’d sent him months ago. And then he’s calling you in the middle of the night, very much not sober and telling you exactly what’s on his mind. “Fuck what you got goin’ on and stop playin’ with me bae. Tell me where you’re at. I need you...”
Prisoner!Mark is VERY not okay about this lmao… But also? He’s very good at it. What a tragedy. The man’s a yearner so this is really optimal territory for him to be operating in. He’s got your perimeter on a tight lock, much like Omni!Mark, but the difference is he’s strategic about making sure you never realize he’s there. He’s ashamed of himself for having lost you, even if he’s not surprised. He didn’t put up a fight when you proposed the breakup, even if it was the worst day of his life (and that’s saying a lot 👀), and instead immediately transitioned into figuring out how to stay apart of your life without infringing on your right to freedom of choice. He knows what it’s like to be imprisoned and he would never do that to you. But… he can’t let you go either. 💔
Mohawk!Mark is all spitfire and brimstone. He’s talking cash money shit about you honey, but if you listen closely, it’s really not shit talking at all. It's the weakest non-complaints a person could ever come up with. He’s saying things like, “yeah [Y/N] wouldn’t ever have pickles on their burgers. So damn prissy. So glad I don’t have to deal with that anymore.” Meanwhile he's ordering all his shit without pickles now. He’s hanging out with his concubines that you hated, pretending to be grateful for his newfound freedom but in all actuality he absolutely hates them. They’re all too skinny, or too curvy, or their hair is too long or too short or too not you. He gets drunk just like Shiesty!Mark, but he never calls. He texts instead because it’s easier for his fragile ego. You get his messages at all hours of the day and night, no rhyme or reason to the timing. They’re mostly petty like he’s trying to just get a dig at you, but randomly you’ll get one that says you done with this? ready for you to come home
Retro!Mark is brooding hard, but his pride keeps him from taking any of the dramatic actions that he otherwise would want to. He hangs around in the sky, making sure he’s out of sight, but trailing you almost everywhere you go. His mind is riddled with judgment about your every little action, convinced that whatever you’re doing isn’t being done good enough because he’s not a part of it. He waits for the perfect opportunity to present itself before he decides to intervene and remind you of exactly what you let go of. Something like a date that goes wrong (which would be the first date you ever go on because let’s be honest, to him? The date goes wrong the minute the poor bastard shows up) and now Mark’s intimidating the guy into a hole while he resumes his spot next to you like nothing ever changed.
Emperor!Mark doesn’t do breakups. I’m gonna be honest with you, a man like him legitimately cannot grasp the concept of this in his brain. He rules over an entire planet, and takes a lot of joy in it. He doesn’t get told “no”. People don’t get the choice to walk away from him. So if you tried, he’d be very similar in his actions as Sinister!Mark—i.e., you’re just being held captive until you start acting right again. The difference though is that Sinister!Mark, deep in his heart, is genuinely hurt by you wanting to leave. Emperor!Mark doesn’t feel hurt. He just feels angry, and there’s nothing else really there. Maybe confusion, but that’s about it. To him this is just a malfunctioning of your synapses and a proper session of conditioning should fix the issue.
Full-Mask!Mark is ridiculous about it. First his mom, now you? How’s a man supposed to get on in life without a mom or the love of his life 🥺 He spends all his time and energy trying to figure out where he went wrong, even mid-fight with an enemy all that’s really on his mind is you. He’s replaying everything he’s said or done that could’ve been the point where things went wrong, and he’s taking active steps to correct all the perceived mistakes. Full-Mask!Mark isn’t right in the head though (none of them are), so he battles with himself on taking your decision to leave on the chin and also believing that your decision is just wrong. And if you’re wrong, then taking you is the safest, most loving, and kindest thing for him to do. Right? ... Right?
What happens when Mark and his variants are down bad for a reader that isn’t into him?
Main!Mark is in his feelings lmao. But he’s not pathetic about it—he’s got a decent amount of dignity. Instead, he just finds himself lurking your socials even though he swears it’s unintentional. Long missions are the worst. I mean, what else is a man is supposed to do but doom scroll? Your pages just happen to be the most interesting thing to do that on, so… ultimately though, he’s not acting on anything. This man’s world revolves around saving humanity on a daily basis. He really doesn’t have time to convince someone who doesn’t want him that he’s worth their time.
Viltrumite!Mark really isn’t that put off. Viltrumites literally spend their entire existence conquering what doesn’t want to be conquered. What’s one person in light of it all? But his human side stops him from being cruel about it; rather, he’s incredibly incessant. Every world that he or his people conquer, he’s claiming a spoil of the victory and bringing it back to you. He knows how humans can be, so he’s patient with you. He has thousands of years and he’s in no rush to get what he wants. But rest assured: he will get what he wants.
Lensless!Mark… y’all should know by now how this man operates. He wants you to dislike him. The hotter the flame the better the meal—and you are the only thing he’s trying to eat. He lives for the way you reject him, never able to let anything rest. Lensless is particularly interested when you're shy and nervous. Oh, he’s dying to make you blush and look away. He wants to be too much for you. He wants you pushing at his chest and turning cherry red while he crowds you against a hallway wall of the GDA. He plays good with the government just because he wants opportunities to be bad for you—someone tame this man. 😩
Sinister!Mark doesn’t fully register the concept of being “disliked”. EVERYONE dislikes him—in fact that’s a very soft word for what the majority of humanity regards him with. To him, that’s the optimal starting place to be operating from. He’d be weary of you if you seemed overly interested; on edge and suspect of ulterior motives. A little dislike though? That’s just foreplay to Sinister. Despite being so accustomed to the feeling, he really doesn’t entertain it from you. He’s mocking your hesitation (or fear) then slinging you over his shoulder while he takes you to your final resting place—I mean, your forever home!! Your feist is an aphrodisiac. Don’t let it go.
Omni!Mark treats you like a puzzle. He’s already decided he wants to see the final picture, and he’s not giving up until he gets that outcome. You don’t like him? Interesting. His next step is to figure out why, and then convince you that those things are actually positive. Take note though he has no intention of changing—he’s a perfect Viltrumite specimen, after all. You clearly just don’t know how to properly appreciate what he’s offering. He doesn’t blame you for your bad taste. You’re only human. You just need to be taught to value the finer things in life. Much like Viltrumite!Mark, he’s in no rush. He has time to get you to see what’s worthwhile (him).
Shiesty!Mark doesn’t take it well. He prides himself on his beauty and appeal. You clearly must be confused or not know him well enough. He has depth, don’t you know? He’s more than just a man with an anaconda in his pants, thank you very much 😤 He’s determined to figure out what your particular interests are and show you that, wouldn’t you guess it, he’s into that too! He’s calling in every favor (or threatening people until they cry) available to him to obtain the most high-end relics that will impress you. He’s flashy, he’s pretty, and he’s after you. I hope you’re prepared to be dazzled.
Prisoner!Mark isn’t surprised 💔. You’re the best thing he’s ever seen. Your scent haunts his dreams, your voice… he wakes up in sweat from dreams of you. He adores you too much to try and change your mind. In his mind it’s obvious why you don’t want him—how could you? You are sunlight and he is the shadow that trails behind you. But he’s okay with it being that way. He’s okay with being the monster that keeps you safe, even if you don’t realize everything he does for you. The gifts at your door? The way everyone around you treats you like royalty? You’ll never understand it. But he will.
Mohawk!Mark acts like he doesn’t like you either. If someone were to ask, he’d say you’re obnoxious, dumb, and annoying. Truth be told though, he finds that no one else measures up to you. Every person in comparison seems dull. Even the smallest excuse to be in your vicinity is enough for him. He wants the fight. He wants to bicker. He wants to feel your breath fanning across his face while you yell at him for being reckless and too intense. And maybe he can’t help himself after—can’t help the way his chest puffs out with his hands on his hips while he says, “ohh, soft little thing doesn’t know what to do with a real man. Too much for you babe?” Only he doesn't want to be too much. He wants to be your "just right".
Retro!Mark honestly? Is personally offended. He tries to act like he doesn’t care at first, but the truth gnaws at him. Do you not know he’s a god? Where the hell do your standards lie if a man like him isn’t reaching it? You must be confused, and despite himself he can’t let it go. Minor skirmishes around you suddenly become his top priority just for you to see what he clearly believes you don’t fully understand: he’s invincible. It’s not just a name; he’s standing on that. In fights, and in bed too. He’s sure once it gets through your thick little human skull you’ll come crawling into his arms. He’s just a bit impatient about it.
Emperor!Mark doesn’t fully grasp the concept of not being liked, if we’re being honest. This is a man who takes what he wants and pays absolutely no attention to whether the vessel wanted to be claimed or not. It’s his right to take you, and any resistance on your end is really just a misunderstanding. Despite this mentality, he finds himself being more careful with you than his other possessions. He’s aggressively confused by your resistant but also determined to make you see that there is no better life than the one you’re going to have with him. Wont you come around sooner rather than later?
Full-Mask!Mark can’t take it. Clearly this is a man that doesn’t know how to deal with loss, which goes hand in hand with rejection. So being rejected by you feels like a direct attack on his existence. He wants to protect you, and love you, and give you anything you could ever imagine. How is that not enough? His mother loved his father despite their differences, why can’t you feel the same way about him? He thinks he’s being normal but really, he’s leaving black roses with cards that have the most emotional quotes written on them. Never his own words—he doesn’t have them to give—but he’ll find something on social and think yes, they need to see this.
Thinking about how each version of Mark would be as a boyfriend…
Main!Mark is truly a puppy for love. It’s everything to him. His heart is always in the right place, but his execution isn’t always the best. He notoriously gives shitty gifts just because he misunderstands a lot of things. For example, you might tell him one day you like dogs. That Christmas he’s giving you the most hideous sweater with dog faces plastered all over it—and he’s doing it with the most enthusiasm. He’s also very sensitive to you disagreeing with him. In his mind, you two are partners in everything and if your viewpoint starts dissenting from his he kind of takes it personally. He’s stubborn, but also a lover, and those two sides butt heads in the worst ways.
Viltrumite!Mark is worshipful, but in the most rigid way. He treats you like royalty and takes great pleasure in providing for you. Anything you could ever possibly need or want he’s giving you before you even ask—only… he doesn’t ever really ask you what you want at all. He just kind of assumes that luxury and abundance is all a person could ever need. The truth is the man is so emotionally constipated he can’t connect to that softer part inside of himself to better connect to you. Just watching a movie together is a real act of devotion for him because the reality is he does not understand doing things “just for fun”. But he cares about you, so he tries anyway.
Lensless!Mark is unhinged, chaotic, and obsessed. He is everywhere you are, always. A mass of muscle floating whimsically upside down beside you while you walk to the grocery store. He talks so incessantly that sometimes you kind of just… tune him out. Not intentionally! But the man will just not shut up. In all his endless ramblings, however, thoughts of you just slip in. How he killed someone earlier and the blood splatter left on the pavement reminded him of your hair on his pillow. He loves to bring you random things just because he likes to hear you talk about it. He also may or may not irritate you on purpose in hopes of violent retaliation.
Sinister!Mark is… something else lmao. How he treats you is entirely dependent on when you two became an item. If it was before his full descent into madness, then he loves you in a way that’s almost painful. You are the one part of his heart he couldn’t fully throw away. You terrify him, and he’s not sure what to do with himself when he’s around you. He struggles to make eye contact because you almost make him feel ashamed of what he’s become. If you became an item after he fully embraced the madness, then he’s pretty much just an ass. He’d never admit how crazy he is about you but trust he is absolutely feral about you. Otherwise he wouldn’t waste the energy of keeping you around. Physical touch is big for him, regardless. He’s always got a hand on you and loves to fall asleep with you wrapped tightly in his arms—almost like his own little security blanket. But don’t describe it like that to him lmao.
Omni!Mark fully embraces the idea of earth courtship. He takes it to ridiculous extremes, however, by bringing you the most absurd planets in lieu of flowers, or kidnapping entire orchestras just so you can be serenaded one afternoon. One of his favorite things to do with you is take a bath. The combination of it all just gets him—the peace and stillness, the functional satisfaction of being able to clean you so slowly and thoroughly, and obviously the allure of tracing over your vulnerable body. It’s a ritual he insists on every night, and although he’s never outright admitted it, you can see just how stressed he gets if a mission or fight keeps him away from you for longer than a night and interrupts this routine.
Shiesty!Mark is all about optics. He’s very strategic about making sure any date you two go on is witnessed and preferably documented. It’s not that he doesn’t truly love you—he does—but in his mind nothing says I love you mor than being publicly shown off. He loves having you sit in his lap while he has a business meeting with his little cronies. Flashy venues or high-profile parties are his setting of choice. You, on his arm, while the rest of the world watches and wishes they could have a taste of his life. And when you’re alone, there’s nothing better to him than feeling your head resting on his bare chest. Well… there is one thing that’s better, but we’re not getting into that here lmao.
Prisoner!Mark is so in love with you it’s almost sad. You can see him actively getting frustrated with himself, so concerned that he’s going to hurt you by accident. He views you as the most fragile, beautiful and perfect thing to ever exist. Like flowers bloom wherever you step. He remedies his concerns by letting you be the dominant one. You’re the one to take his hand when walking together. You’re the one who controls the flow of your kisses, and you’re definitely the one who’s on top during… Yeah. He’s so into everything you say and do, like it’s all acts of god, and will actively threaten other people to make sure they show you the attention he thinks you deserve. With him, you have a fresh bouquet of flowers every morning that he picked himself from across the planet, just because he thinks that’s what you deserve to see every time you open your eyes.
Mohawk!Mark isn’t one for romantics, but he does love to show off for you. Every time you two go out, you can rest assured that he will be doing something over-the-top, calling your name until he has your undivided attention before doing the thing. Whether it’s throwing a football so hard and fast it effectively becomes a bullet that circles the entire planet, or bench pressing a gigantic boulder the two of you passed while on a hike. He’s going to absolutely make sure you know just how special your man really is. He’s also a big fan of when you get a little crazy. You yelling at the server because he explicitly asked for no onions on his burger? Fuck yeah. That is his shit.
Retro!Mark treats you well, albeit is a bit controlling. The man has a fantasy of love in his mind that he will always be chasing. He wants you to take care of him just as much as he takes care of you. He wants home-cooked meals, a clean house that’s always ready for guests (that never come), and a partner that cares about the way they look. But he meets you in that effort every step of the way. He stays intentional with maintaining himself, and the house, and surprising you with gifts. He takes great pleasure in coming home with a new diamond necklace for you, clasping it around your throat before kissing the curve of your shoulder. He wants you to feel loved, even if he’s not the best at verbalizing it.
