#evil mark variants

[celestialcreativity]

“I miss my wife Tails” but it’s with the Evil Invincible variants instead XD

I wanted to show y’all this when it gets fully colored but got too impatient and excited so I’m showing it now XD

[vinnyvamppp]

To Be Desired

⭐: No Goggles Mark, Mohawk Mark, #17 Mark/Sinister Mark, Mentions of Invincible (requested!).

Synopsis: Variants of your childhood best friend spawn across the globe, and you find yourself in the crossfire of their previous lovers. What happens when you experience the parallel pleasure they offer?

Warnings: Power Struggles, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Morally Grey, Nipple Play, Fingering, Pussy Eating, Overstimulation, Public Sex, Squirting, Rough Sex, Switch!Reader, Switch!Invincible Variants, Plot changes for convenience, Matching Freaks, Position Changes, Porn w a Plot, etc.

Invincible Variants x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5,239 (PART TWO HERE)

“You won’t believe what just happened, oh man!” Mark exclaimed with glee; an unfamiliar look of pride swam within his irises. It was the night he received his powers; a deep crater buried itself into your driveway from his failed landing. “What?” You questioned, prying your front door open as he entered. There were scuff marks littered across his naked upper body, battered and bruised from his knightly adventure. “It was incredible. I—I flew.” He explained, his hand gesturing excitedly. This was a dream of his; he would craft makeshift suits and detailed desired escapades to save the world. However, for it to come true was another story. 

“No way! This… this is a funny joke.” You sputtered, One doesn’t usually acquire powers at random, but in this dimension, who knows? “No, really. I took a huge leap off my roof, not really expecting anything,” he interrupted to soften the already ridiculous landing of his story. “You know, and I just took off.” The topic was so exhilarating; the thought of questioning him hadn’t dawned upon you. He leaned against the back of your couch, crossing his arms as you two reminisced. 

“Wait—why were you jumping from the roof anyway? What if nothing happened and you fell?” You questioned with a raised brow. “I know, I know, it’s stupid. But I was curious and decided to give it a try.” He rationalized quietly, fingers nervously scratching his nape. “Aw… I want powers now.” You feigned sadness as you sulked. It was your attempt at being amusing, but truthfully, you felt left behind. Was it envy? Was it the need to feel important? Was it the fear of him leaving you behind to begin his journey as a hero? You didn’t know at the time. His expression became tinged slightly with guilt. “Hey, don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll get powers soon.” He reassured you, but it was too humorous to be sincere. “Yeah… soon. Real, funny, wasn’t it?” You said to yourself as your body perched against a rooftop. It was the second day of the Mark variants ravaging Earth like their playground. The once-majestic towers now stand as skeletal frames, their glass windows shattered. Debris litters the streets, a tragic mix of shattered concrete and twisted metal, and the air hangs heavy with the scent of smoke and ash. Heroes formed makeshift shelters and sifted through rubble for survivors. 

The Mark you once knew was head over heels for Atom Eve. It was no secret; he was a lost puppy whose ears would perk at the sound of his name on her tongue. Utterly devoted. You were the very last to discern his truth. The two were written in stone, but it left a bitter taste in your mouth that you had long since gotten over. Until now. You were late to the news of the world's destruction. A strangely familiar face appeared on the news, a version of Mark that made your chest tighten. Within your family, a strange ability was acquired—a power bred through evolution to ensure survival in a world full of the unknown. Once in a lifetime, through a series of visions, you would discover a pivotal moment in time to peer through. That moment was now. 18 variants were loose internationally, each with their own tragic story and love interests. Six had dated or lost their Atom Eve, five had slain their worlds' Amber, and six had been devoted to you. 

Helping where you could, you began assisting in fighting off the weaklings who figured now was the best time to attack Earth. Micro tears riddled your uniform as you tore through them mercilessly, all through a look of pity. There were days you'd resent this “job” you'd granted yourself, the little recognition and appreciation you'd receive from the public. How selfish of them and you. You wanted an excuse to have this world fair alone without a need to rebel when no one would notice. As luck would have it, a voice suddenly dawned behind you, his body floating midair and adorned with the appearance of your dearest friend.

Mohawk Mark

“Oh, shit… I know you.” He rasped, his expression twisted into a cocky grin. His stature and pose were that of confidence and a man who caused insurmountable damage to those he met. “You look just like her,” he continued, his feet finding purchase on the ground as his stride increased. “Sorry, you've got the wrong one; try finding her—��� Just as you spoke, static buzzes in your skull, a low crackling hum that drowns out the edges of the memory before it fully forms. It's there—just beyond reach—shrouded in white noise. The harder you focus, the more the static swells, but for a moment, the interference clears. A voice, the ghost of a feeling—and just as quickly, it’s swallowed again. You understood the gist; he was indeed one you would find yourself tangled with. “Looks like you’ve been through some tough shit; mind if I join you?” Without waiting for a response, he lunges forward, grappling with you in a powerful embrace. His intent wasn't one of danger but instead of safekeeping despite his demeanor. Reflexes took over as you slammed against his cranium with the strength you could muster, effectively knocking him back.

"Fuck, you're a feisty one," Mohawk Mark growls, his breath hot against your ear. "I like that shit. Let's see how you handle this." His chuckle was condescending, yet a thrill shot through you. “‘Won't be handling shit,” You quipped before biting into his neck, just rigid enough to draw blood. He groaned, his flight knocking you two back into an alleyway. Similarly to your Mark, he seemed attracted to strength, his veins pumping with lust rather than adrenaline. Holding a firm grasp of your jaw, his lips collided with yours in a searing and blood-stained kiss. The muscle of his tongue forcefully parted your lips as he sought to taste you against his own. Finding yourself against the wall, your legs wrapped around the width of his waist, your ass snugly hovering over his pelvis. 

He pulled away every few seconds to watch your expression succumb to your selfish wants. Sex with the enemy was enticing, and you weren’t letting him escape any time soon. “You planned this?” You murmured between the saliva-ridden kisses, “That would be telling. You know enough if you’re agreeing to this.” His voice grew to tease as he licked his lips, mirroring his satisfaction before peppering kisses down your exposed neck. His version of sex was rough, with small increments of romance, only reserved for the best prize. With muffled groans, his teeth harshly nipped their way lower, his fingers tearing through the fabric of your suit. As he continued down your now-exposed cleavage, his tongue ran along the scantily-clad lace of your bra. Staring up at you, he let out a mischievous snicker before his teeth snagged the cup and tore it from your chest, leaving it discarded on the ground. 

“Shit… was fucking not enough? Had to ruin my clothes too.” You complained, as your hips bucked against his pointedly. This earns a guttural grunt from the flesh of your breasts, as he heaves out a response. “You’ll forget about them anyway.” He dismissed it as he continued until your panties were the last to be removed. The cool air dusted your wet cunt; its arousal seeped through your folds like honey. Its chill made you shiver, and like bees to nectar, his tongue feasted before his eyes. Hoisting you up, your thighs rested against his shoulders as he knelt; the angle allowed his tongue to slip inside your already spasming pussy. An unusual pink hue dusted his cheek as he stared up at you in utter bliss. Your fingers dug into his forearms, your puffy folds pressed against his lips as he devoured you. With your head resting against the wall, your hips ground themselves relentlessly against his tongue.

"Mmm, shit, already soaking wet for me," He taunts, pumping his tongue in and out of your tight cunt. His tongue, rough and textured, lashes out to lap at your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. His groans send mild vibrations through you as his fingers reach up to paw at your tits, nipples stiffened in the cold air. You can't help but moan as he eats you out with relentless intensity, his tongue plunging deep into your folds. His calloused hands roam your exposed flesh, pinching and kneading your breasts, twisting your sensitive nipples until they grow numb. His hands couldn't stop their exploration; they explored what he had lost many years ago. Sparks flew as his tongue circled against your clit, flickering the bundle of nerves with a speed inexperienced before. Every time you would near the precipice of your orgasm, his tongue would flatten as he sucked your clit, ruining the rhythm. You tugged his hair with a frustrated groan, and his eyes rolled into his skull with an amused moan. 

Finally, pulling away, he stood to his feet. His lips parted to speak when suddenly, “Hurry the fuck up.” You said curtly with exasperated gasps. With lidded eyes, a Cheshire grin settled across his features. “Yes, ma��am.” Prying his suit off, he palmed his dampening erection. For once he fell silent as anticipation ate away at you both. As he freed his cock from the confinement of his boxers, it slapped against his lower abdomen. It stood with a veiny girth; the tip kissed a rosy red like his many mistress’ lipsticks. With a pleased hiss, he stroked himself briefly, eyes just barely losing focus from the buildup before he plunged himself into you. Your pussy hugged him with a familiarity that felt like home; the painful stretch soon became one of bliss. His hips began to quicken, wanting to see your fucked-out expression like never before. 

However, his greed overwhelmed him as the stimulation grew difficult to ignore. His usual grunts and growls were diluting to groans and profanities. The alleyway echoed with the cacophony of moans that mingled in the air. Inharmonious, yet emotion-filled as a flame flickered within your core. “I’ve waited so fucking long for this.” He grunted, a grin etched into his lips. “N-None of them, no ssslut compares to this. Only pussy I need, only woman I want.” A groan interrupted his sentence as your cunt contracted around him, swallowing him at the base. That’s right, every harem formed and woman fucked was so he could ruin the image of you that plagued his mind in its grief. The vulnerability of it all made your toes curl, even if it wasn't much.

The fingers pawing at your breasts began kneading them like stress balls until they were red. Truthfully, he missed every inch of you, not that he would admit that, especially since you weren’t exactly his. A high-pitched moan ripped from your throat as he continued to bounce you on his dick. Pre-cum coated your insides as the sounds of arousal grew louder, his balls tightening. With every thrust, he could see the air physically leave you, the scuff marks from brick marking your skin. He could barely tell where to focus his eyes, on your tits or face? Both were gorgeous, but fuck, he should just kidnap you and take you home with him, right? “Fuuuuck, Mark… I’m g-go—.” You groaned as your fingernails indented into his skin; a pain and pleasure-filled gasp crawled from his throat. “Fuck, yeah…” He said, his raspy voice cracking with the slightest whine. “Take it… s-shit, take it…!” It was a growl as his eyes fluttered shut to hide his eyes practically rolling around his skull. With a clenched jaw, his dick began to milk itself. The pleasure mounted as your impending orgasm washed your body in a sweat-breaking heat. Just as he came, your cunt spasmed once he pulled out, something within snapped as an aroused gush squirted from you.

His groin was now coated in your scent, taste, and the result of your rough fucking. The pleasure racked your brain as tears threatened to spill over. Noticing this and pleased with his efforts, he let out a short chortle, a hand coming up to swipe your folds and have a final taste. His expression turned into a feigned sob as he silently teased. His tip running a line between your folds and ass, resisting the temptation to fill your ass hole with his seed. Once you two were settled from your high, he spoke up. “Had fun, babe.” Your eyebrow lifted at the newly coined pet name. Suddenly, a muffled voice in his ear caught his attention. “Shit…” He muttered with an annoyed grimace at Angstrom ruining his amusement. “Go on,” you beckoned, “Not yours anyway, so no need to stick around.” It was a light jab, one he received with a satisfied smirk before taking flight. “Doesn’t matter, I’ll be back.” He replied curtly before disappearing into the horizon.

You stood there, naked, processing what just happened. "Shit, I need a new suit from my apartment.”

Variant #17 Mark (I wouldn't even keep you as a slave in my Empire!) Or Sinister Mark (personalities are similar in the comics, so imagine what you will.)

"You thought you could hide from me?" he said, peering down at you with a friendly grin for someone so domineering. Staring down at the man’s shadow, his cape billowed in the wind. Unlike the other Marks you’ve caught a glimpse of, this one barely had a bruise on him. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” He finished before he landed softly on the ground. As he approached, you remained still, eyebrows creasing into a frown. “I’m not—.” You were abruptly cut off by a low voice as his head tilted to stare into your eyes. “Don’t play stupid. My version of you had the same power… but she resisted our cause.” His voice was tinged with pity as he frowned; he decided to take another route in his approach.

“I’ll tell you what, I’ll leave… if you come with me.” He offered with an outstretched palm. You vehemently shook your head in disagreement. “I’m not going; it'll disrupt the timeline.”

“Why does that matter?” He asked. 

“What makes you think I won't resist either…?” You retorted, causing his eyebrows to raise slightly in thought. “I’ll change your mind and give you what you missed out on in my world.” It was such a matter-of-fact opinion. One that was rooted in a determination to outclass any obstacle to deter him. Curiosity bested you the moment you turned to face the chaos erupting in the streets as a strong gust of wind obscured the debris. He was behind you. His fingers draped over your waist as he took flight and to… your apartment? “I’ve been watching you for a while now… I know all about your preferences. Let’s have some fun, shall we?” His lips just barely grazed your ear. Amongst the hands that roamed your body, a sense of longing lingered in every squeeze and grope. While being one of the strongest, and surely the most vile, his personality could be charming like your dimensions, Mark. Even if feigned for manipulation. He spins you around to face him, that polite smile etched into his face again as his body betrays innocence. The erection forming within his costume became difficult to ignore, but he found a distraction. A touch, a handhold, and finally—a kiss. 

“Let me show you what it's truly like to be satisfied.” His words were reassuring, yet they felt more directed towards his version of you rather than now. His tongue swept into your mouth, tangling itself in a wet heat as he sucked the air from your lungs. The warmth of his fingers spread across your cheek as his tongue attempted to delve impossibly deep. The taste was better than you imagined, not that you expected any less. If anything, finding him in a forgiving mood proved to be favorable. His fingers shifted from your face to the back of your costume; in his attempt to be gentle, he tore the cloth from your body like tissue paper. In an instant his costume was discarded in the corner, leaving him in snug boxers that hugged his dick. Before you knew it, you were pinned against the bed, a hand flush against your throat as he shrugged slightly. “Didn’t mean for that to happen.” He said, an amused huff exiting his nose as you exchanged knowing glances. 

The remaining hand gently pried the panties from around your hips and down the length of your legs. His eyes fell upon the wet patch that seeped through the thin fabric as the semblance of a pleased grin stretched across his lips. Focusing his attention once more, his fingers slowly parted your folds, watching as your velvety walls peeked through the slit. Its warm flesh was inviting, something he had yet to try since you retaliated so often against him at home. Just why couldn’t you be this welcoming? So willing to be corrupted? So… morally gray at the least. Pressing two digits inside your warmth, he watched it conform to the size of his fingers. An obvious shiver ran through him with each moan that vibrated from your throat, as he imagined you hugging him and wrapped around his cock in plea. The sensations set your skin alight with gooseflesh, and each time you attempted to scurry away from his gift, the hold around your neck tightened ever so slightly. He was such a brat. 

Your hips ground into his hand, clit colliding with his palm in gentle waves. As his fingers slowly retracted, his cock shyly peeked from the pocket of his boxers. His patience was running thin as he adjusted himself at your entrance as he slowly pushed through. A loud sigh escaped his lips as he bottomed out, his head falling backward as he quietly cursed under his breath. Mirroring his restlessness, your foot hooked around his lower back and pressed him deeper. A drawn-out moan echoed from your throat; he was barely holding on as he gnawed at his lip to contain himself. Reflexively, his hips stuttered before setting a relentless pace, pounding into you with deep, powerful strokes that hit all the right spots. 

“Already so wet for me… pathetic. Fucking slut.” His words struck a nerve within, as you repulsively tightened around him, earning a whine. Your moans echo through the room, mingling with the slap of skin against skin and Mark's grunts of pleasure. He hammers into you like a man possessed, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he drives you towards climax. 

The long thrusts stimulated every inch of his dick; the veins were kissed with every grip of your cunt. “Did your version of me not do it for you?” You teased before taking a sharp breath at his relentless pace. “Y-You really don’t know when to be quiet.” He gritted, “But n-no… not like this, you're much better. I would take you to be a part of my empire.” He replied, his jaw tightening as his hips drilled into you with renewed conviction at the thought. A second you, not the one he’s attempting to keep as a slave for disobeying, but one he can trust to blindly follow his power. His grin grows wolfish as his other hand overlaps your throat, his gaze shifting between your bouncing tits and pleasured face. The slight closure of your windpipe doesn’t allow for much noise, but no matter, Mark began to sing like you’d never imagine. It was strange; the sound was much louder due to your silence as you clawed at his skin. His voice began to crack as his tightened jaw began to slack, "F—fucking incredible," he murmurs, his voice rough with satisfaction. "I knew… you'd be worth every s-second of c-...chasing you down." He sputtered as his length began to twitch inside you.

Seeing someone as strong as him unravel before you was a greater sense of accomplishment than becoming a hero itself. With a closed-lip groan, he began overstimulating himself with the effort to get you off. “Haaa… I’m c-close. Ugh…!” You muttered through strangled gasps as the deprivation of air made you lightheaded and sensitive. Every nerve ending inside your cunt doubled as you went taut beneath him. “C’mon, fucking cum for me.” He heaved. His thrusts became sloppy as he came inside without warning, doubling over as a consequence. An unfamiliar sensation painted your insides. You both saw stars as silence pierced the room, the slick produced coated his cock in a glaze. Through bated breaths, his fingers finally released their grip around you as you coughed out a response. “I have to admit… you’re hard to deny.” You said, momentarily spent as you lay before him. “Swee—” He was cut off by a voice in his ear. 

It was Angstrom demanding his presence over the city; “What a nuisance.” were the final words you caught as he muttered under his breath. Every version of Angstrom was a hindrance to this Mark; nonetheless, he suited up to leave. “I’ll return, and you will join me.” He said confidently, as if there was no argument to be made. You nodded absentmindedly and sighed. Just what had you done?

No Goggles Mark

“Dude…! You’re so cool; what is that? I’ve never seen any powers like that in my world.” He says with an amused expression as he snickers at your agony. You stared up at him, your heartbeat suddenly quickening when meeting his gaze. A look of recognition flickered within his eyes. “Hey, I know you.” He says, his feet touching base on the ground as he approaches you with a widening grin. “I’m not sure you know me exactly…” You replied, backing away as your eyes searched for a route to escape; his friendliness had truly taken you aback.

“Who do you work for?” He asked, words flying from his mouth without a care as he approached closer. “You're way stronger than the Guardians of The Globe dudes I fought.” He fought who?! A sense of dread filled you as a new series of questions plagued your mind. If this one could ruin the team to filth, then just how strong was he, and what exactly did he want? “I don't want to fight you, man.” You somewhat pleaded; he frowned with disapproval. “Fight? No man… but it seems like you’re in trouble, dude.” The topic switched again, his gaze now behind you as a flurry of aliens attempting their takeover waltzed through a portal. You didn’t have the heart to tell them it was a failed crusade before it began.

Taking a stride forward, a strong arm suddenly wrapped around your waist as you two were propelled to a lone-standing structure where steel beams and concrete floors remained. “Put me down.” You bruised him as you backhanded him into the metal beam. While he had a smile on his face, momentary irritation settled across his features. The painful sting ran to his cock. “Aw, what's the matter?” He asked, standing to his feet as you both came face to face once more. “It would be hot, but I don't want to fight, dude. I’ve missed you. I promise I’ll be gentle… at first.” The delivery was more seductive, dropping an octave as he approached you, hands outstretched and finding purchase against your hips. One thing other variants wouldn’t admit is the supple touch of the right woman could caress their soul.

“I’m not the me you want.” You replied, “You can just be the one I have anyway.” He was indeed serious, and while less terrifying than the other Marks you’d encountered, his strength was menacing nonetheless. “Then let’s see what other talents you’ve got.” Your response made his expression brighten with a new goal in mind. At that, the grin on his face widens as he leans down and captures your lips in a fierce, dominant kiss.

His tongue forces its way into your mouth, battling yours for dominance as he grinds his hips against yours. You two stumble around the enclosure, footsteps echoing in the empty building. Mark’s hands cup your ass, squeezing them roughly as he whispers crude compliments into your ear. "Nice ass," he growls appreciatively, his fingers caressing the soft flesh. He couldn’t articulate it well, but you were truly beautiful in every universe, and he couldn’t wait to have his share. 

Your fingers traveled up his muscled back as body heat pooled across your fingertips. Eagerness unlike any other began to rise as you longed to touch every inch of him. Hero costumes are peeled from one another, and you find his groping becoming progressively obsessive. His hardened cock stood awaiting stimulation as he bit back his urges, sacrificing the time to feel you once more. Guiding him to the floor, you seat yourself against his lap, your legs hooked over his forearms. He was always too quick to finish battles, and that even applied to sex. Just the tip. That's what you two agreed upon. Sinking onto his cock, its girth fills you deliciously. The wet sound of arousal followed by his restrained groans fills you with delight; it's amusing to see a Viltrumite struggle to contain himself.

1… 2… 3… 4… 5… and 6! On every sixth shallow thrust, you would contract your muscles, gripping his dick like a vice as every vein received a kiss from the gods inside your cunt. It had him crazed, wanting more of your warmth than you were willing to give. “F— Fuck, babe, you’re killin’ me.” He hissed with an unforeseen weariness shaking his voice. “Can I?” He started, “No.” His expression hardened at your words, “You’re ruining the—.” Before he could finish, he inhaled sharply as his head fell back. “Am I…?” You asked with feigned curiosity. It was undulating in a rhythm that drove him wild. He groans beneath you, his hands digging into his palms as he fights his urges to misbehave. The sound of your ass slapping against this pelvis fills the air, mingling with your moans and cries of pleasure. Anything would be worth trading; he could watch his dick disappear within your cunt nonstop. His impending release redoubles his efforts, pounding into you with a ferocity that sends you hurtling over the edge. 

The excitement overwhelms him as he sheaths half his cock inside, the spreading warmth and moisture making his thighs quiver beneath you. His balls tightened, painfully so, that alone ripped a pornograohic moan from him. If he could fuck you as desired, he wouldn’t be nearly as needy. Your combined moans echoed through the infrastructure, and you were certain that with the windows gone, someone could hear, but the thought was out of sight and out of mind. Pre-cum beaded down his length as it was smeared each time he entered your warmth. “M-Mark…” You muttered; he nodded fervently behind you as his jaw locked. “Y-You ready for it, babe?" He asked with a faltering grin as sweat tickled his brows. Leaning your full body weight against him, you feel your orgasm building quickly. The pleasure reaches new heights as you both milk each other dry for the sake of proving a point. Your body instinctively begins to lurch forward as your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave. The tip of his cock was bedecked with a foam ring of cum. Mark would’ve begun convulsing had it not been for him carrying you; instead, his body stiffened as he let out a tight-lipped groan. You could’ve sworn you saw his toes curl too, but who knows? His pale skin was flushed a hue of red as his body thrummed with an aftershock.

Once you’ve come down from your high, a satisfied grin beams at you. "Dude, that was incredible," he murmurs, a satisfied grin on his face. "We should do this again sometime." He said as if this was some casual fling, not that you would mind. Before you could respond, a message in his ear interrupted the conversation. “Ugh… this always happens; I have fun, and then—dude…” He sounds exasperated as he hurriedly redresses, reluctantly wishing you a botched farewell. “I like you. You’re coming with me.”

Feel free to request more lmao

MasterList ོ༘₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚

[digitald0rk]

TEAR YOU APART

pairing : sinister! mark grayson x afab! florist reader.

synopsis : in which mark discovers your dirty little secret and decides to help you recreate it in real time.

(18+) warnings : kidnapping. nasty petty perv mark. allusions to cannibalism. mention of kinda gory violence. hair pulling. biting. mean name calling duh. giving each other head. p in v unprotected sex. creampies. marathon sex as in multiple orgasms. squirting. overstimulation . . . ++ just really nasty smut lol [ all consentual though! you two are freaks like in capital FREAKS ]

w.c : 5.5k.

notes : erm. yeah idk what possessed me to write this but lemme know what you think ! it's my first time writing smut this long and detailed [ my search history is crazy rn lol ]. let's just say this takes place in sinister mark's universe before he starts acting like a murder machine and all, so yeah :] again interactions are always appreciated, also do let me know if you think there's any warning i should add!

taglist : @vm4879bb-blog [ for the others, i wasn't sure if you guys would be okay being tagged in a fic like this so i didn't, let me know if you wanna be added tho :p ]

now on ao3 too!

he's going to kill something, or someone.

“oh yeah this? my boyfriend got it for me!”

he hears you talk about him, your lover, everyday and it annoys him deeply, the subtle furrow of his eyebrows barely noticeable but definitely there — sometimes a twitch of his eye, clear cracks in his carefully constructed facade give away his irritation if you choose to look closely.

“that reminds me, this one time he-”

he loves that pretty voice of yours — dare he say, he's grown fond of it, but he wants to shut you up forever whenever your boyfriend's name leaves your lips.

mark wants his name to be on your tongue — to be said with the same love and fondness that accompanies the name of your lover.

he tried, he really did, to give you signs — a squeeze of your hand there, a stare that can practically undress you on its own. but it seems you're oblivious to it all, or you're playing hard to get, either way his patience is running thin.

he'll get what he wants. just you wait.

every time he visits your little shop, it smells like flowers mixed with your perfume, that sweet and sugary scent with just a hint of citrus — he had asked you about the perfume you wore during his third visit, bought it the same day so he could finally get off because his imagination wasn't enough at this point, that kept him somewhat satisfied for a bit, but it wasn't nearly enough.

so when he stopped by next time, not even buying flowers to play along with whatever this is, he asked you, “where do you buy your clothes?”

you blink a couple times, clearly taken aback back by the sudden question but nonetheless, answer him — although you're not quite sure what to make of his disheveled hair and blown out pupils.

here he is, acting like a feral dog in heat, buying anything and everything that he can at the shops you frequent that resembles your clothes. and when he's back at home, he's spraying them with the perfume you always wear, rutting like a madman into the mattress as he mouths at a pink shirt — the same one you own and the one you were wearing when he first saw you, his drool leaking and staining the shirt as he holds it close to his mouth and closing his eyes, your scent surrounding him as he suckles on the chest area of the shirt, imagining it's your chest instead which has him groaning and cumming in his pants. that keeps him going for another week or so.

next thing he knows, he's acting on pure instinct and his desires — snapping photos of your panties underneath your little skirts like a fucking pervert, looking them up online so he could order them and make a mess of them. and he does, he stains each and everyone of those panties with his hot, thick cum and sometimes his spit when he imagines eating your pretty pussy out. his desires however continue to only grow.

he visits your little shop, like he always does, mentally preparing himself to not grab your throat and shove you down to make you shut up if he hears about your stupid boyfriend again.

he's being nice, can't you see? you should be thankful.

mark sees a new ring on your finger, the small silver zircon on it shining underneath the sunlight, he wonders if it's another gift from your boyfriend.

the thought leaves a bitter taste behind, regardless, he maintains his usual aloof facade, waiting for you to finish wrapping up his bouquet that he's going to end up tossing away the next day — just like the other flowers he's bought from you, they don't compare to you or your beauty, he wants you, a flower that won't rot away once he's done playing with it.

surprisingly, you don't mention the name of a certain man who he wants dead and buried six feet deep but he doesn't comment on it, in fact, a small barely imperceptible smile tugs at his lips.

he's just about to leave your little flower heaven when he hears something that makes his heart, uncharacteristically skip a beat.

“yeah i heard, i’m so sorry,” a voice, which he recognizes as your friend speaks softly, sympathetically.

“yeah, i don't know what i was thinking,” you start, “the signs were there, i just never thought he'd cheat like that,” you blink away the forming tears, “i trusted him.”

he stops dead in his tracks. that bastard cheated on you? he'll make him pay for being the reason you cry, although your tears do make his cock twitch in his pants. he'll lick them off of your face if you let him, god he really wants to.

should he simply keep your boyfriend to torture? he's sure he could lure you in with it, after all you are way too sweet for your own good.

he'll slowly tear each of his limbs apart, making sure the man hears his bones cracking and skin ripping, he'll make that fucker bleed to death. hell, he'd even record those painful, agonizing sounds that your ex would cry out, he's sure you'd cry more if he lets you hear them, maybe he just wants to see you cry — though he's sure you'll do that when you choke on his cock.

he snaps out of his little fantasy when the bell rings, indicating the opening of the door — another customer in, he sighs. he's losing it, he's not sure how much he can withstand not having you with him. but he's trying, for you.

for the sweetest girl who he can't wait to devour.

with his restraint hanging on by a thread, he steps out of your shop, his hands clenching and unclenching into fists by his sides. he needs to have you.

and that restraint finally snaps the next day when he discovers that his favorite florist is a fucking freak.

as you're tending to customers — clearly overwhelmed by their number as valentine’s day is approaching and flowers are definitely a safe option for your partner, his eyes stay locked on your laptop's screen that you had put on one of the small tables, lid only half closed, his eyes frantically scan over some of the words as he fully opens the screen, trying to stay out of your vision.

he quickly decides to go somewhere where there aren't so many people so he could take a look inside his sweet girl's sick mind. and with that he skillfully slips outside — he feels awfully excited, sneaking into the small bathroom of some shop.

and with each click of the cursor and another tab opening, he learns your most depraved, disgusting fantasies — the kind of porn you're into, your kinks and fetishes, the smut you read, all of it.

he even stumbles upon a small blog you run, oh now we're talking. each lewd image or post you've reblogged, followed by some words of “wish that was me rn”, has him hard. and these date back before your break up, meaning your boyfriend was definitely not keeping you satisfied and that has him grinning like a maniac.

oh he'll give you what you want.

he shamelessly palms himself when he finds your dairy entry with his name, rambling about how you feel guilty fantasizing about him ruining you. he would've cum right then and there if it weren't for the knocking on the door, “hey man, you mind hurrying it up?”

oh right he's still in a bathroom and not in you, like he should be.

he manages to sneak your laptop back in, thanking the absurd amount of customers mentally which helped him go in and out without raising suspicion.

he can't take it anymore, it's only been a couple hours since he's discovered your filthy secret and also saw you tearing up earlier because of that asshole who broke your heart.

he knows he's a hypocrite — he doesn't care for your dumb feelings and your big heart, okay well maybe that's a lie.

it is a lie.

and there are definitely these feelings that he refuses to acknowledge but still, the only reason why you should be crying is because of him fucking your brains out.

and so he waits, like a predator waiting to pounce — he holds his breath, watching as the sun sets and you lock up your shop, ready to go home and get some sleep but your plans are interrupted as a hand sneaks up behind you with some sort of cloth, muffling your panicked noises and before you know it you're knocked out.

it takes you hours to gain your consciousness back, eyes all heavy and mind disoriented you blink, once. then twice, your eyes widen and your mouth suddenly feels too dry. you're all tied up to a cold hard metal chair, you're only in your bra and panties, the rope is too tight, it's constricting and will definitely leave behind angry marks on your skin.

standing before you is one of your regular customers, mark. you stare at him, dumbfounded — eyes darting around to look for an escape okay to see a single door, desk and some chairs, panic settles in your bones, the coldness of the room does nothing to soothe your nerves.

you mindlessly try to shift around, a desperate attempt that leaves you wincing in pain — the friction of the thick black rope burning against your skin.

you try to speak, but nothing comes out, only a small choked sob — looking at him with those wide eyes which are brimming with tears that are oh so close to spilling and staining your cheeks, you look utterly helpless. the sight alone makes him excited.

he takes a deep breath, he wants to take his time with you, savor you. but goddamnit, if you keep looking at him like that he's sure he'll end up doing the opposite of that.

“open your mouth,” he commands, leaving no room for argument and you hate the way it sends a shiver down your spine and a throb to your core. 

you hesitantly open your mouth, with his back turned to you — doing god knows what, you try screaming for help, it is a weak attempt that makes him chuckle, “no one's going to hear you sweetheart,” he coos mockingly, “i suggest you play along if you wish to live.”

he's not joking, his voice makes it clear. 

so you reluctantly keep your mouth opened, hot tears falling down — lucky for you, he's being nice, at least for now because he brings a glass of water, holding your jaw and pouring the water in your mouth, some of it spills, the coldness of it on your bare skin making you shiver — but you swallow all he gives hastily, hoping it really is just water.

you sputter a bit of the water out onto him in surprise when he licks a stream of you tears away, his tongue hot against your skin and his spit leaving a shiny trail on your cheek. scared, that he'll hurt you because of what you've just done, you close your eyes shut as if the mere action would actually rewind back time and do something for you.

he laughs, loudly.

god, you're adorable. he could just eat you up.

“are you scared of me?” he asks, knowing damn well it's a pointless question but the genuine fear in your eyes has him reeling with joy and a desire only you, his sweetheart, can fulfill.

he puts the now empty glass of water back on a small table, “you know, you look real pretty like this,” he starts, dragging a chair to sit across you, “but i bet you'd look real pretty without anything on.”

you don't answer, you don't know how to. your eyes are still looking around the big room for any exits, any openings — he smiles at your desperation, it's cute really.

“or maybe you'd look even prettier with some blood on you hm?” his tone although amused is firm enough to leave you unsure if he's being serious or not, he drags a finger across your belly, “what if i make a cut right here?”

you immediately shake your head, trying to speak but he shuts you up by pinching one of your hard nipples through your bra, your protests die down into a small whimper — the sound has him grinning from ear to ear.

his eyes glint with something sinister that has you both scared and turned on. “i know you want this slut,” he holds your jaw harshly.

shame settles in your bones as you realize he's right.

“don't play coy sweet girl i saw all of it,” when you give him a confused look, he continues, “that little blog of yours, that disgusting shit you're into.”

oh fuck.

he sees the look of absolute horror mixed with embarrassment on your face and he tuts like he's disappointed, “dirty girl,” like he isn't the one who literally kidnapped you here.

“i don't know what you're talking about,” you both know you're lying, but sure he'll play along if that's what you want — he's feeling good today.

he reaches for your bag and rips it open — a clear display of who's still in charge here and how he definitely could kill you in an instant.

mark opens your laptop and asks you the password. you don't tell him at first as if that would change anything.

“i asked you a simple question,” he walks closer to you, grips your shoulder hard enough to make you regret your words, “or do i need to rip something else for you to answer me hm?” his grip tightens and you know he's not playing around, your voice shakes as you give him the four number pin, breathing heavily when he lets go of his hard bruising grip on your shoulder.

“good girl,” fuck him, he's doing this on purpose now! and the smug look on his face only confirms your suspicions.

he shows you the deepest, filthiest fantasies of yours that you keep tucked in your laptop, away from the world.

“what's wrong? don't pretend you're not dripping wet right now.”

again, he's not wrong.

“why are you doing this?” you ask him, still struggling a bit against the ropes that bind you.

“i wanna give you what you want,” he says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. he also wants to make you forget about your ex boyfriend, but he's not admitting that, jealousy is a weakness. and one that he suffers from immensely.

“you what-”

“drop the act,” he huffs, irritation visible in the way his eyebrows furrow. “just admit it already. you're a sick disgusting pervert who goes prancing around like she's not thinking of having her holes filled,” he tugs at your hair to keep your head up, his eyes dark with lust boring right into yours.

“are you crazy? you fucking kidnapped-”

he cuts you off again, “so you don't want this?”

silence.

“i’ll untie you right now and let you leave, just tell me you want to leave.”

silence, again.

you're not fooling anybody.

“yeah that's what i thought,” he let's go of your hair, “the safe word is-” he mutters your ex’s name and before you can even comment on the sheer absurdity of it all, he's ripping your panties away from your throbbing pussy, groaning at the sight of your glistening wet folds, all needy just for him.

he quickly pockets the ripped panties. pervert.

“look at this needy cunt, all for me hm?” he muses aloud, spreading your legs apart and breaking apart the ropes that tried to interfere with his ministrations. he shakily inhales when he sees your arousal slowly spill out — you're so fucking wet. his heated gaze leaving goosebumps on your skin.

he presses a chaste kiss to your folds, practically salivating as he breathes you in — he's gonna end up cumming in his pants, he's dreamt of this exact moment for so long.

he gathers a considerable amount of saliva in his mouth before spitting it onto your neglected cunt which twitches at the action, the sight is downright filthy and it makes you moan.

he wastes no time — getting on his knees, licking a strip up your slit before devouring your pussy like a man starved for days, shamelessly rutting into the chair you're sitting on at your taste. you taste so good, he wants to drown in it.

he's messy and loud, your hands are still tied behind your back so you can't push his head away and grip his hair when he attacks your clit with his tongue, sucking on it relentlessly. your hips lift up and buck into his face, your noises only getting louder as he fucks his tongue into your warm wet hole. he moans at the feeling of your thighs squeezing around his head and nearly suffocating him — your walls clenching around his tongue as you cry out his name in utter pleasure.

he shoves two of his thick fingers in without any warning — a surprised small squeal leaving your lips, while his tongue works in torturous circles around your sensitive bundle of nerves and eagerly licking between your folds. your pretty whimpers are music to his ears.

clearly overwhelmed with pleasure, you make a pathetic attempt to squirm away from his touch, which earns you a harsh smack to your thigh followed by a bite — his teeth dig into your flesh, leaving behind bruising marks that will sting for days, the line between pain and pleasure blurring.

a familiar feeling settles in your belly, it only builds up as he continues to go down on you. “mark! mark! i'm i’m-” you try warning him, but his fingers only speed up, he sucks harshly on your clit, holding your hips down when you cum — your body shaking, crying out his name oh so sweetly, he wants to hear it again and again, until the only word you know is his name.

he doesn't pull away from your cunt though, drinking up every bit of your release and arousal that you offer — holding you down and forcing you to submit to the relentless pleasure he's giving you, moaning into your pussy like he's having the best meal of his life.

he doesn't let you rest, inserting another finger in — easily massaging that sweet spot that you can't reach as easily as he does.

“oh fuck!” you whine out loud, when he keeps overstimulating your poor pussy, the squelching wet noises only increasing as he eats you out. he loves the way your brain is turning to mush, mindlessly babbling his name along with your sweet noises.

and when you cum again, he still doesn't stop. 

you've lost count of how many orgasms you've had at this point, body too sensitive and shaking almost like a leaf.

with eyes brimming with seemingly never ending tears, vision practically blurry from the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body, it doesn't take him long to bring you to the edge again — except this time you end up squirting all over his pretty face, a surprised noise leaves your mouth as your body jolts hardly.

he finally pulls away. a small moan leaves your lips as you take in the sight in front of you.

mark grayson, on his knees, face all wet and drenched in your juices and his spit, breathing heavily — looking at you like he's going to eat you alive.

he's breathing really heavily, your dazed state makes it hard for you to comprehend things but you can clearly see the big wet spot on his pants. he came — from just eating you out.

“messy fucking slut,” he spanks your already oversensitive pussy making you hiss and cry out, body still quivering and twitching from that intense release.

he pushes your legs apart again, spreading your pussy open for him to see, he mutters a curse under his breath as he sees remnants of your release clinging onto the sensitive skin. he needs to get up before he ends up eating you out — as much as he would love to do that, he can't wait much longer, he needs to be buried inside that sweet cunt of yours and make you see stars.

he gets up from his knees. grabbing your hair, mark makes you lick his face clean, you taste yourself on his face and feel yourself getting worked up again. “good fucking girl, gonna put that mouth to better use, just you wait,” his hand reaches down to pinch your clit, laughing when you let out a small pained noise.

he hastily tears away your bra, the fabric discarded somewhere on the cold floor. he pinches and lightly grazes his nails against the perked up sensitive buds, making you squirm and let out small whimpers — it stings, but it also gets you insanely wet.

“look at that, pretty pussy’s practically begging to be fucked,” he bites down on your shoulder, a pained groan escapes your mouth and he bites harder, pulling away to admire the mark his teeth left.

you barely have time to look at the new addition of marks he's left on your body so far, before he's untying your hands behind your back, taking your wrists into his and pulling you down. you stumble a bit at the harsh tug — legs practically jelly from all those orgasms.

he draws you closer by your arms, manhandling you easily so you're sitting in between his open legs — the cold floor against your warm body.

“take it off,” he commands, gesturing to his pants. you hesitantly take them off, his ruined boxers coming into vision.

he's an impatient man, he always gets what he wants.

mark grabs a fistful of your hair and forces your head down onto his clothed — aching cock, making his impatience very clear.

“dumb bitch, can't do anything herself,” his tone demeaning, shutting up your protests by shoving his thumb in your mouth. he lifts his hips up to finally free himself of his boxers, his cock standing up — bobbing and leaking with pre. you gulp, eyes flitting back over to his face.

he lets out a small moan as you gather some of your saliva to spit on his hard cock, licking teasingly up his length over one of his prominent veins.

“don't be a fucking tease,” he takes ahold of your jaw harshly, tugging your tongue out before you can close your mouth — that he can't wait to be in and spits on your tongue, making you swallow it, before shoving you back a bit.

he pushes your hair out of your face so he could watch you better, the gesture so sweet and gentle — it makes you almost forget how mean he's been.

you slowly start pushing his length into your mouth, “thaaat's right, take it like the good slut you are,” his words die down into a groan as he feels your tongue swirl around his sensitive tip.

he's being nice for once, letting you take your time, your head bobs up and down as you suck him off while your hands jerk the rest of his cock that you can't fit in your mouth, tongue working against his sensitive spots.

but your mouth feels so good, so warm, so wet — his hips jerk up involuntarily, making you gag and tear up at the burn you feel at the back of your throat.

you look so pretty like this, those pretty lips wrapped around his cock, eyes glassy — don't blame him for wanting to ruin you when you look like that.

he pulls himself out of your mouth slightly — just to make sure he doesn't end up cumming too soon, before shoving himself back in, moaning in pleasure at the sensations he feels. you keep sucking, forcing all of him in your mouth, almost choking on his cock, some drool leaking out of the corners of your mouth, but it's worth it — worth those small whimpers and grunts he lets out, ones he can't hold back because of how good he feels right now, all because of you.

and when your hand reaches down to lightly toy with his balls, cupping them, he shivers and lets out a low moan of your name, without a proper warning his cock twitches in your mouth and he cums, hard — flooding your mouth with his thick salty release.

you try to swallow as much as you can but it's too much, however, mark being the fucking asshole he is, forces your head back down on his twitching cock and pinches your nose shut making it hard to breathe.

he breaks into a full blown laugh. oh how he loves the way your eyes water up — that panicked expression on your face as you struggle to breathe, some of his cum leaking out your pretty mouth, squirming and still trying to push him away. it only turns him on more, “it's rude to talk with your mouthful,” he quips, holding your gaze.

he lets you go finally and you pull him out of your mouth quickly, throat already feeling sore — you cough, wiping away his cum and your spit from your face with the back of your hand.

“you should've seen the look on your face,” he chuckles darkly — clearly pleased with himself, shifting closer to you to pin you down, wasting no time shoving his tongue in your mouth, messily kissing you. he lets you pull off his shirt, his hips buck a little when you start feeling him up.

he can taste himself on your tongue and god that only adds to his growing arousal.

he pulls away a little so he can start biting and sucking down your neck, his other hand sneaking down to tease your pussy — tracing circles onto your clit, he grinds against you, “gonna fucking ruin you for everyone else,” he bites your earlobe, tugging on it, his fingers moving to tease your other hole, “gonna make sure this fucking pussy is always full of me,” he slaps your pussy, making you cry out his name.

he quickly aligns himself with your wet entrance, taking a deep breath before nudging his tip in — shoving it all in one go, making you tremble in both pain and pleasure that'll build over time, “come on i know you can take it, isn't this what you wanted?” he coos mockingly, pressing sloppy wet kisses to your face, licking your face like some fucking dog, leaving your face covered in his spit.

as soon as your muscles relax the tiniest bit he's thrusting in and out of you like a madman — you yelp loudly, holding onto him for dear life, nails digging into his back.

“fuck- oh my god!”

the only sounds in the room are the fast wet sounds of him thrusting into you, your pussy squelching loudly at the action and your combined moans and whines.

your gummy walls clench around him harder with each thrust, his cock hitting that sweet spot so well it has you seeing stars, all you can think about is him.

“oh fuck,” he grunts into your ear when he feels you tighten around him, gripping him like a vice, “think she needs to be filled all nice and warm with my cum, don't you agree baby?” he accentuates each word with a harsh thrust, relishing the way your body writhes under him.

you nod mindlessly, desperate for that sweet release more than anything.

“aww what's wrong?” he leans down to suck on one of your nipples, pinching and toying with the other one — a choked out sob leaves your lips, you feel tears pooling in your eyes, you clench around him even harder, desperate to milk him for all he's worth. he lets out a whine when he sees the outline of his cock in your belly going in and out, fuck he's going to cum.

the movement his hips falter at the feeling of your pussy gripping him tightly, “oh fuck,” he breathes heavily, muscles tensing up a bit. he pulls out, moving you on your stomach, giving your ass an appreciative spank when you arch your back for him.

“guess she answered for you hm?”, he muses — pumping himself a few times before settling back into your warm needy cunt, “fucked too dumb to answer but can still arch your back like a needy whore? you're so fucking pathetic,” he licks over the opening of your little hole, an arm coming around to hold you in a headlock that has your vision blurry — in the best way possible. getting impatient, you try to fuck yourself back onto his length but he doesn't let you.

“nasty girl, i can feel you clenching around me” spank “you like it when i’m being mean hm?” spank “oh right you can't answer,” spank “not a thought behind those pretty eyes hm?” spank “don't worry, you don't have to think at all, you wouldn't have to, when i’m done with you.”

he starts rutting into you again, his filthy mouth doesn't stop as he dicks you down like his life depends on it. his arm around your neck — squeezing, leaving you dizzy as he pounds into you from behind like he's in heat, you've given up on trying to control your noises. he sneaks a hand down to pinch and toy with your clit — making your walls clench and toes curl and you cum for the nth time with almost a scream of his name, your body shakes vigorously as a result of your intense orgasm.

it doesn't take long for him to cum as well, especially with you screaming his name like that. with a few more sloppy thrusts he fills you up with his warm sticky white release, head thrown back as a soft whimper of your name is uttered out of his mouth.

breathing heavily, he makes sure to not waste a single drop — once again buries himself as deep as he can, admiring all the various marks that he has littered your skin with.

he pulls out after awhile, keeping your thighs apart with his rough calloused hands so he can see the sight of his cum mixed with yours leak out of your hole, shit, he's getting hard again.

he's honestly not sure if you can keep up — he doesn't want to end up hurting you- well you're his toy, nothing more than that he doesn't care if he hurts you, he really doesn't.

he wants to break you, ruin you. yeah, that's it.

his eyes definitely do not soften the slightest bit as he takes in your disheveled state, back still arched prettily for him, your ass red from all his spanking, skin battered with various marks, a proof of the intense passionate sex you two had.

but when you crane your head back, looking at him, “I can take it,” you're still trying to catch your breath, wincing a bit as you shift your body around, “give it to me mark,” you sound so sweet — swaying your hips side to side to make him give in and fill you up again.

you want him to break you.

and he does just that.

again and again, until he's sure your cunt remembers each vein and curve of his cock, stuffing your hole full to the brim each time.

so when your body finally gives out — almost passing out after another orgasm that he pulls out from you, lying on top of the only desk in the room as he drills into your cunt, he stops. pulling out and painting your tits with his release with a loud groan, his hair is sticking up in all different directions from the way you've kept pulling on it, body coated in a sheen layer of sweat — shaking as his chest heaves unevenly with each breath he takes just like yours.

he watches as your eyes close shut and you drift into a light slumber after a few minutes. his heart beating weirdly in an erratic manner, he chalks it up to the sex, although he has to admit he finds your sleepy face quite adorable, he may or may not want to hear that giggle again — the one you let out when he ended up cumming a little too fast when you praised him.

but he'll think about that when his face is not buried between your thighs, tongue sinking back into your folds — he can't get enough of you.

and with the way you whimper loudly, tugging on his hair oh so eagerly.

it seems like you can't get enough of him either.

so he'll indulge you to your heart’s content — maybe he'll save that video of him torturing your ex boyfriend and leaving him to die in a ditch for some other day.

© digitald0rk 2025. do not steal, repost or translate any of my work. want more? click here ★

[lanae111]

Idgaf. I need them. ALL OF THEM.

All at the same time even. I promise I can do it please—please—please—please-

[gatorbites-imagines]

Umm so kinda a sad one but how do you think petvincibles would react to reader just shutting down. Getting home from work and just laying on the couch for hours. Think like severe burn out not being able to do anything

Felt like writing what each Mark would do, so here ya go, pookie.

Its just a bit for each, but yeah, there are a lot of Marks,,, 

Sinister Mark 

Just... kinda awkward about it. Like, he doesnt do feelings like that. Hes used to resorting to violence when he feels stuff he doesnt like so,,, wanna,,, go punch something? No? 

Ends up just kinda hovering around the reader the rest of the day. Might try to bring you stuff like how a dog or cat does. Like... heres your favorite blanket, shirt, heres that drink you like from London,,, 

High Top Mark 

Still kinda awkward about it but at least knows more about it than sinister. Hovers for a bit at a distance before coming closer and carefully asking if you wanna talk about it. 

If you dont then he just sits with you, if you want the company. If you just wanna be left alone, then he still hovers, but at a distance. Keeps an eye on you, makes sure you dont need anything. 

Prisoner Mark 

Has days where he breaks down too, more than the other Marks. Hes so used to isolation that being around people can really drive in up the wall, and he gets overwhelmed. 

One of the few situations where he will bark at the other Marks to back off and leave you alone if you need it. Brings you blankets, snacks, pulls the blinds so it gets comfortably dark, etc. 

20/20 Mark 

Guys a freak and energetic as hell, so he wouldnt even notice for a while that the reader is just laying here, quiet and just overwhelmed by everything. Kinda like an overexcited puppy cuz hes just happy to see you. 

When it finally clicks he just, slowly goes quiet and still. Then he kneels down, trying to see your face, trying to ask whats up, whats wrong, etc. Ends up having to be told by the other Marks whats up.  

After that he backs off and lets reader recharge as he needs. 

Flaxan Mark 

Used to feeling overwhelmed and overworked after doing what hes done with the flaxans, so he just sits down by the reader, would pet readers hair and talk softly to him if reader is okay with it. 

I can imagine him sitting there and fixing up his gear as reader rests and just enjoying his company. Would explain each step in a quiet voice, just for some white noise. 

Mohawk Mark 

Just as awkward as sinister Mark, just kinda chews the inside of his cheek and stands there, trying to talk to reader and make him respond or get up. 

Might get a little annoyed after reader just lays there like the dead, but hes been working on his people skills, so he ends up giving reader a slow pat on the back or head, tells him to rest in a bit of a strained tone, and shuffles off cuz he isnt good at comfort. 

Long haired Mark 

I think hes pretty quiet compared to other Marks when it comes to your relationship, and is observant when it comes to your feelings. 

If you are energetic enough, and you need something to do with your hands, then you can mess with his hair all you want. Or he does your hair as you lay with your head in his lap. 

Bug eyed Mark 

Guys a little strange, but observant. You kinda become observant after becoming evil, and all that. Would quietly ask if you are okay, when he doesnt get a reply he shuffles a bit. 

Then he sits on the floor beside you, and holds your hand in his own, and messes with your fingers or rubs the back of your hand. 

Half Mask Mark 

Another freak weirdo who struggles with feelings and comfort. Peeks into the room to see you laying there, awkwardly stands there in the “mom i threw up” pose. 

Shuffles away again, brings your comfort blanket or pillow or something, shuffles it under your head, gives you a kinda choppy kiss on top of the head and stumbles away again. 

Maskless Mark 

Such a softy, such a sweetie. Would walk over, rubbing your back and quietly ask how youre doing, what happened, or if you need anything. 

Takes your shoes off for you, your jacket or hoodie, and lifts you up so he can lay down, and then lay you on top of him. Will lay there for hours with you, petting your hair and back. 

Full mask Mark 

Hes most likely had moments like this too, and he does what his mom used to do when he was just exhausted and worn out from the world. 

You will find a bowl of cut up fruit or snacks, your favorite drink, and he puts on your comfort movie/show on the tv. Somehow it stays cold and crisp until you are ready to come back to reality. 

Moustache Mark 

I don't think that viltrumites take mental health very seriously, so moustache Mark would just kinda stand there awkwardly. Purses his lips a bit, wiggles his moustache, trying to remember how his mom used to help him. 

Ends up just standing behind the couch, rubbing your back for a bit, maybe tells you that you fought hard and deserve to rest. 

Shiesty Mark 

Another awkward guy. Used to being loud and expression himself and letting his anger control him when hes fighting, or in situations where he needs to react somehow. 

Ends up googling and looking at reddit on how to help. Quietly brings you a hot towel, or cold towel depending on preferences, and makes sure to get your favorite takeout for dinner. 

Omni-Mark 

As the housewife he is, or wishes he was, Omni-Mark will notice the exact moment you step in the door that you aren't the same as usual. Will immediately start hovering. 

When you flop down on the couch, Omni-Mark makes quick work of changing your clothes, getting you comfortable, and will sit you up and feed you if he has too. Then he kisses your forehead and tells you to rest for now. 

Viltrumite Mark 

Like moustache Mark, viltrumite Mark doesn't really know too much about what to do when you feel overwhelmed and just tired of the world. 

Would treat you the same way hed treat a tired warrior, ends up rubbing your back or massaging sore areas of your body, might bully you a little to drink and eat, and help you shower if you need it. 

Bulletproof Mark 

I think hes one of the Marks with most connection to humanity still, so he remembers all about being burnt out, so he remembers what to do much better than the rest. 

He would also have observed what you do on days when you are normal amounts of stress, so he does that, and gives you a couple of kisses and lets you recharge for as long as you need. 

Faceless Mark 

Quiet guy for the most part, so he observes, and starts bringing you stuff the same way a loyal pup would. 

Rubs his face into your hair and mumbles that he loves you and that you did well. Also offers to kill your boss if they are the reason you are worn down.  

Empire Mark 

A brat, so he doesn't notice for the first while. Would just crawl onto the couch and lay down on top of you, and after rambling for a while and nuzzling you, then he realizes. 

Mumbles a bit cuz hes also working on his human feelings, but he does help you kick your shoes off and shuffles you into a more comfortable position so he can cuddle you like an angry kitten. 

Original Mark Graysons 

Cyborg Mark 

Has just as many days where hes worn down and exhausted as you, if not more. It depends on how far he is in his healing journey. Chances are, you guys end up just lying there together. 

Since he can vibrate, then he would rub your back, or legs. Like he sits down with your legs in his lap and massages them and your feet as he watches tv. Uses his cyborg eyes to also check you over, to make sure everything is alright. 

Evil emperor Mark 

Doesn't do weakness, and hasn't done it in like, a thousand years. He would try to be understanding, but he is most likely the one who's most lost out of all the Marks. 

Chances are, he will pick you up and hold you against his chest. Just carries you around like a plushie all day, wraps his cape around you to cocoon you from the world. Kisses you every now and then, just so you know he loves you. 

Tiger Hybrid Mark 

Very affectionate in general, so he'd summon his tiger ears and tail, might even summon paws so he can knead your back, letting out those deep rumbles tigers do, since they don't purr. 

Ends up wrapped all around you, licking through your hair with his rough feline tongue, making it stick up in every direction, his tail wrapped around your leg as he chuffs the entire time. 

Wolf hybrid Mark 

Lays his ears back cuz he just smells the stress on you, might whine a little and nuzzle against you. Snuffles under your chin, trying to make you laugh. When that doesn't work his tail tugs between his legs. 

Can and will drag you to his nest in the closet. Wraps all around you, huffing, whining and licking at you. When it's clear you are actually okay, he will go bring snacks and drinks to keep you healthy. 

[galvanisticinhuman]

as happy as i am about the popularity that willmark is getting (even if the 'mark' in question is from a different universe), i wish ppl would realize that you can ship a villain with a regular guy Without making the villain a yandere cornball

[sw33t-as-h3ll]

I would gangbang all of the variants of Invincible in the comics.

[zephrysdotcom]

my marksona/ invincible war ocs

left to right

veilincible, femvincible, mulletcible

closeup and info under the cut 😛😛😛

veilincible - he was basically beaten into submission to join the viltrum empire from the fight with omniman in season 1 ep 8

femvincible - like any other evil mark variant except she's a woman

mulletcible - he killed cecil and in charge of the GDA, he did it for the sake of keeping his mom safe because after his dad left, he got paranoid he'd come back and he wanted to be in control in case he did

[ultrameganicolaokay]

Red Sonja vs. the Army of Darkness #1 by Tim Seeley and Jim Terry. Cover by Björn Barends. Variant covers by (2) Seeley, (3) Mark Spears and (4) Nikkol Jelenic. Out in April.

"HAIL TO THE KING - AND QUEEN - BABY! Get ready to sharpen your sword and load up your boomstick, because it's time to face off against the undead hordes once more! In this all-new miniseries, everyone's favorite Deadite-slaying hero - Ashely J. Williams, natch - finds himself hurtling again through space and time to battle against the forces of evil. But this trip is special, because he's finally caught a break - this time, he's teaming up with the She-Devil herself: Red Sonja! But who's that lurking in the shadows? None other than Kulan Gath - and if the most dread wizard of the Hyborian Age gets his hands on the Necronomicon… well sh*t, that ain't gonna be good! Multitalented comics savant TIM SEELEY (Hack/Slash, Batman Eternal) takes up his pen to chronicle this latest - and greatest! - chapter in the Army of Darkness and Red Sonja sagas, with art provided by acclaimed collaborator JIM TERRY (Sundowners, Alice Cooper vs. Chaos) and cadaverously compelling covers coming from SEELEY, BJORN BARENDS, MARK SPEARS, and the Dynamite debut of NIKKOL JELENIC!"

[willosword]

mark grayson come back to me

[celestialcreativity]

Finally the sequel to “I miss my wife William!” Now with COLOR!! :D🌈✨

Honestly this one was SUCH a blast to make! 🤣 And I hope y’all enjoy this one as much I did! 🤗❤️

[vinnyvamppp]

May I share my vision of Viltrumites having heat cycles and Viltrum Variant Mark being simultaneously embarrassed but oh so needy for reader... Not to mention the contrast between something purely Viltrum within their Earth-like home. Mark becomes /extra/ possessive and devoted. Reader just HAS to be... /marked/ (heh).

Bite Me Back

Note: Usually I take a short hiatus after each post, but I had to hop on this before someone took it. Its just too good! The man is a warrior first but a needy man wrapped around your finger second. Warnings: Smut, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Switchy at times (Mark is Dom), Marking, Biting, Mild Blood, Manhandling, Heat Cycle, Soft Power Exchange, Invincible!Variant, Established Realtionship, ProBone Position, Porn w a Plot.

Synopsis: He finds himself increasingly overwhelmed by instinctual need and possessiveness—but it’s not just lust that’s consuming him. It’s you.

Viltrum!Mark x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,245

There’s a feeling in the room. It’s not something you can name right away—just a weight, humming low beneath the air conditioning, heavy in the quiet between your words and his silence. Mark has barely said a word all night.

He sits rigid, like a soldier at attention, elbows on knees, fists clenched tight. His head is bowed like he’s trying to stay small. You know better—there’s nothing small about him. Not his frame. Not the pull of his attention when it finally lands on you.

His eyes burn when they meet yours. Heat pools in your chest.

“Okay,” you say carefully, “what’s going on with you?”

He doesn’t answer right away. His jaw flexes, sharp under the light. There’s sweat at his temple, his breath slightly uneven. You’d think he’d been running—except he hasn’t moved. “I told you. I’m fine,” he says, too quickly. “No, you’re not. You’re doing that thing. Where you act like you’re about to combust.” Mark’s lips twitch. Barely. Then his gaze drags over your body, slow, involuntary. Regret flashes in his eyes before he shuts it all down again.

“I’m managing it.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one I’ve got.”

You cross your arms. “So this is, what, a Viltrumite thing? Do I need to worry?” His head jerks slightly—like the question lands somewhere vulnerable. He lets out a low breath, sharp through his nose. “It’s not dangerous.”

“That’s... not comforting.”

Mark stands abruptly. His pacing is short and tight. Too much tension lingering beneath the surface. “I’m not used to being around people when it happens,” he mutters. “When what happens?” He hesitates. Then, voice like gravel, like it’s been scraped raw from his throat: “Every Viltrumite goes through it. It's when instincts spike.” He waves a hand, like that says enough. “It’s nothing.” Instincts? Was it instincts when he’s suddenly peering around every corner. Always just before you were going to text him. Always at your door when you weren’t expecting him. You’ll turn around, and there he is—like he sensed something. “Were you already nearby?” you ask once, suspicious but amused. He shrugs. “Didn’t like the thought of you alone.”

But it’s not nothing. His hands are shaking now. His shoulders twitch like he wants to touch you, but won’t let himself. You take a slow step forward. “You’re burning up.” He flinches at your nearness, but doesn’t move away. “It’s temporary.”

“And if I weren’t here right now?” you ask softly.

His eyes meet yours. There’s no guard in them now. Just hunger, barely leashed. “I wouldn’t feel like I’m about to tear out of my own skin.”

You don’t think. You move.

You grab his shirt and pull him down and kiss him.

The sound he makes—guttural, desperate—vibrates straight through your spine. His hands are on you in a heartbeat, one at the back of your neck, the other anchoring your hip like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. His mouth crashes into yours, all heat and hunger. The usual precision is gone instead it's messy, needy. It’s not calculated. It’s real.

And gods, he kisses like he’s been starved. Like you’re oxygen, and he’s been holding his breath too long.

Your back hits the wall without realizing you were moving. Mark pins you there, lips dragging across your jaw, then down to your neck. He’s breathing like it hurts. You feel his hands trembling as they press into your skin—hard enough to claim, soft enough to ask.

You whisper, “Mark—”

“I’m sorry.” His voice is rough against your throat. “I can’t stop. I should’ve told you. Should’ve left.”

“What is this?” you ask, breathless. “What’s happening to you?” He pauses, his mouth still against your skin. “It’s called the calling,” he says finally. “A Viltrumite instinct. It tells us when to choose.” You blink. “Choose?” He lifts his head. His pupils are blown wide, and there’s a fire in them now that goes deeper than lust.

He steps closer, nose brushing yours as a wicked smile teases the edges of his lips. Its better he shows you after all. “I’ll show you that you’re—” His hands are on your waist again, firmer now.

“—you’re mine.” He kisses you again, deeper this time. Slow and deliberate. Like he’s claiming every inch of your mouth, like your taste is seared into his blood now and he’s never letting it go. When he finally pulls back, barely an inch, he rests his forehead against yours.

“You don’t have to want this,” he murmurs. “But if you stay... if you let me...” His voice breaks slightly. The edge of him still trying so hard to hold on. “I’ll mark you. And not just your body.” Viltrumites don't form bonds often, not like this. But when they do? It rewires something in them. Permanently. He doesn’t just want to claim your body. He wants to burn into your scent, your memory, your soul. He wants to be in every thought you have when you’re alone and for your future to shape itself around him, the same way he's already tangled around you. That’s what a mark really is. 

His mouth finds yours with bruising intent, but there’s nothing careless about his hands. They slip under your shirt, exploring slowly, like he needs to memorize you, feel every heartbeat under his fingertips. You feel him breathe in deep as his lips trail down your neck—slow, reverent, almost like a whisper of worship. He’s never let anyone close during his heat cycle, he’d grit through it per usual. It was never so intense, and like most things, he blamed your presence for his downfall. The distraction he wasn't meant to have. You can feel the tension radiating off him, the careful restraint. His hands tremble slightly as they curl into your hips. The touch grows firmer, sliding down your back, hauling you closer. His mouth is on yours again, and everything is faster now—lips parting, teeth clashing, tongues meeting in messy, uncoordinated want. Through the blissful blunder, the rigged ends of your teeth catch his lip. It’s not deep. Just a faint sting. A bead of blood rises on his lip. You pull back slightly, just enough to see his eyes widened and staring into yours—not with pain, but something else. And you whisper, voice steady, gaze locked with his— “So do it. Mark me. But understand—this goes both ways.” He was silent. You’d claim him as well? He wasn’t sure if it was because of his heat cycle, but the numbing pain of his lips only contributed to the pleasure. He almost seemed appreciative. Just barely. “Make me yours.” you whispered against his lips, warmth fanning your face.

Clothes peel away slowly—almost ritualistic in the way he touches, like he doesn’t just want you bare—he wants you his. You don’t remember exactly how it happened. All you know is that one moment, you were gasping into his mouth, and the next, you were lying flat on your stomach, the sheets cool against your skin, your cheek turned to the side, breath still catching in your throat. That’s when his weight settles over you.

Not heavy, but firm as his muscled body rests against you. His chest brushes your back, his hips aligned with yours, one of his arms curled protectively beneath you while the other slides up to tangle his fingers with yours. He presses forward like his body’s trying to merge with yours, chasing some Viltrumite instinct that demands all of you. His cock was weeping, already sore and flushed from his restraint, every shift caused it to twitch uncontrollably. His hips roll, a low grunt escaping his throat as he sheaths himself within your entrance. You feel him, hot and throbbing, pressing insistently against you. His breath hitches as he begins to push inside, inch by inch, a growl rumbling in his chest. Your soft mewls overwhelm his senses, his ears flushing red as heat rises throughout his body. You both nearly feel lightheaded. His hips snap forward, causing you to yelp, your body stretching to accommodate his size. His fingers tighten around yours, knuckles turning white with the effort of holding back.

Each thrust began measured and controlled despite his frazzled state. His tip nuzzled itself to the hilt in one smooth stroke. You cry out at the sudden fullness, your walls clenching around him. His grunts fill the room, a symphony of restraint and desire, each one vibrating through your body. The warmth of his tongue slithered across your shoulders, his teeth nipping at the skin as purple blemishes bloomed in its wake. The sight was intoxicating.

His eyes glazed as he mindlessly sped up, the rhythm becoming more urgent, more desperate. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure crashing through you as air escapes your lungs. Instinctually, your body arched to meet his, your breasts pressing into the mattress. Your lower back bounces forward, his eyes watching as your body struggles to keep up. His presence loomed over you, your chest tightening as his eyes searched for yours, a semblance of caring. It took little time for your mind to go blank, the sound of the bed groaning beneath you two filling the void between his groans.

The soft flesh of your thigh grew tender from his tightening sack battering behind you. His hips continued to pummel forward, his abs tightening as sweat beaded down his skin, his entire body taut with need. The ridges of your cunt caressed the veins down his cock; he didn't know if he could pull out if he even wanted to. He inhaled shakily, “You smell like me already… but it’s not enough. I want it permanent. I want it in your skin.” Suddenly a musky scent permeated the air; it was his scent, yet stronger and suffocating enough to make you dizzy. So much so, you couldn't bear to respond as blankets coddled your head.

His hand slides from yours, trailing down your arm, your side, and your hip before gripping your thigh firmly. He hikes your leg up, changing the angle, and you cry out as he hits a spot deep inside you, a place that sends sparks of electricity shooting through your nerves. “You’re going to feel me for days. Every time you sit, every time you breathe—you’ll think of this.” The swivel of his hips was punctuated further as his brow furrowed in concentration.

His grunts turn into whines; vocal cords already gone raw, his body trembling with the effort of holding back, his muscles shaking with the strain. “You have no idea what you do to me… I’ve been fighting this for days, but you—fuck, you make it impossible.” He gritted, almost sounding irritated with your stubbornness. His cock was twitching, pre-cum painting his dick in a white sheen as his breath came in ragged, desperate gasps, each one hot against your skin. 

His hips reared back, his tip just barely grazed your cunt's sopping entrance before plunging back in. The pornographic arousal that coated his pelvis only drove his desire to keep you like a dove trapped in a cage. A beauty, a pleasure, and a warmth only he could experience. He leaned down, lips grazing the shell of your ear as a deep and pathetic whimper slipped past. “You’re shaking… Is it too much, or just right?” He asked, relishing your lack of response through pleasure. He was rarely this talkative, but he needed you to understand, to feel how strongly he craved you right now. “Mine. Say it.” His piercing gaze hovering over your shoulder as if to threaten you, “God, you’re needy when you say it like that.” Your response made his eyes roll back into his skull, jaw ticking as he sighed shakily, his hips jutting forward as your pussy milked him dry.

Moans grow louder as your body writhes beneath him, the sheets twisting beneath your fists. His hand slides up your back, his fingers tangling in your hair, pulling gently to expose your neck. He leans down, his teeth grazing your skin, his growls turning into soft, desperate noises, a mix of pleasure and pain. You can feel his body tensing, his thrusts becoming erratic, and his hips jerking wildly as he chases his release. Just as he could feel his impending climax, his tongue licked over the salty tang of your nape, savoring the taste before a searing pain shot down your spine. Blunt teeth sink into the soft, sensitive space between your neck and upper back, and your whole body aches with the shock of it—pain laced with something molten and hot, a flare of sensation that shoots straight through you and coils low in your belly.

It was strange; he could feel his tip bulbing against your womb as he heaved, his face coming into view over your shoulder. Shivers racked through your body, the pain somewhat dull now. Turning to face him, your lips nipped along his jawline before planting a firm bite against his Adam's apple. You marked the place he spoke your name—and for a second, he forgot how to breathe without you. “Please don’t stop. God, take me like you fucking mean it, Mark.” It was a demand, one sexy enough to send his shaking frame into overdrive.

Your moans turn into cries as your orgasm hits, your body convulsing around him, waves of pleasure crashing over you, your vision going white. He lets out a final, guttural growl, his body shuddering above yours as he finds his release, his cock spurting inside you, painting your walls in his cum. He nuzzles himself deeper, encouraging you to hold his seed as a satisfied grin stretches across his face. His body is slick with sweat, his muscles twitching with the aftershocks of his release. You lie there, unable to move as an ache in your spine settles in. Your fingers claw at the mattress, slowly pulling yourself forward before you feel a strong hand pistoned you onto his cock once more. “You're not going anywhere. I’m inside you… and I’m not letting go.”

A/N: Get marked 😛 boy do I love building sexual suspense.

[mercurysmicrowave]

Imagine you and Mark broke up because he still had lingering feelings for Eve. So now you're sitting in your dorm room late at night when...

"(Y/N)?" A familiar voice calls from the other side of the door. You put your phone down and move from your bed. You hesitate to open the door. Not because you don't want to see the person on the other side, but because it's really late and usually Mark taps on your window or texts you first.

"(Y/N), are you in there?" Mark asks. "Please, I...I need to see you. I need to know you're okay." Your heart shatters at the desperation in his voice. You reach for the doorknob and open your door.

"Mark?" The lightning in the hallway is dim, but you can tell that your ex-boyfriend is wearing his hero suit. You quickly pull him into your room and lock the door.

"What is wrong with you?" You ask. "What if someone saw you?" He doesn't answer. Instead he pulls you into a tight hug.

"Oh god, you're okay," He says. His voice was barely above a whisper. "You're safe." You reluctantly wrap your arms around him. You've seen Mark cry before, but never like this.

"Yes, I'm safe," You tell him. "But what are you doing here?" Before he can answer, your window shatters. Your pushed to the ground and your ex-boyfriend is pinned against the wall.

"Mark!" You exclaim. You rub your head, and your eyes try to adjust to the dark scene. Mark was being pinned to the wall by...Mark? You rush to the light switch and flip it on. Held against the wall was Mark in a black and blue suit, but his whole face his covered. And holding him against the wall, was another Mark, in his new blue and black suit, but you were able to see his face.

"Don't fucking touch her," Your Mark growls. His hands tightened around the imposter's neck.

"Get off of me!" The imposter's says in between coughs. His head is bleeding, and the blood starts to roll down his face. The imposter turns to you.

"(Y/N)," The imposter says. "You're not gonna let him kill me, are you?" You stutter out a sentence, your mind moving faster than you can process words. You look between the two, unsure what to do.

"Don't listen to him," Your Mark yells. "He came with other variants of me. They're evil. They only live to kill." You want to believe him, you really do. But the Mark against the wall is in so much pain. And if he wanted to kill you...why didn't he? Without thinking, you begin to move to the two Marks.

"Let him go, Mark," You say. Your Mark glares at you.

"Seriously? Did you not hear what I said?" His words are harsh, but his voice sounds hurt. "He'll kill you! What? Just because we're broken up, you'll be with another version of me! I'm trying to save you!"

"I know what you said!" Your anger scares both Marks. Neither of them have ever known you to raise your voice before. "Let him go, please." You say quieter. Your Mark curses under his breath before letting the imposter go. The Other Mark sinks to the floor, gasping for breath and holding his neck. He looks up to you. He crawls on the ground and hugs your legs.

"I'm sorry," He cries. "Please! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to! Please forgive me!" You look back at Your Mark who's standing behind you with his arms crossed. He scoffs and turns away from you. You look back down to the Mark on the floor.

"It's...it's okay," You reassure him. "I'm safe, remember. I'm not hurt." The Other Mark nods his head.

"Yes, you're safe," He repeats. "I'll make sure you'll always be safe." A rush of wind hurls past you. Before you can even blink, the Other Mark is standing on the other side of the room with his hand balled in a fist. Your Mark holds his chest. Blood gushes from his mouth, and he falls to the ground.

Your eyes widen in shock. You're sure you screamed, but you can't hear anything. You rush to your ex-boyfriend's side, kneeling beside him. Blood quickly pools around him.

"Mark? Mark!" You scream. The Other Mark lifts you from the ground.

"Don't do that," He says, his voice strangely calm. "You could get an infection. What if you got sick? Do you want me to be alone again?" You struggle to get out of his grasp, but he won't budge. He floats above the ground and flies the both of you out of your window. You beat against his body in protest as you scream for Your Mark.

"It's okay, (Y/N)," The Other Mark says. "You're safe with me now."

Pt2

[asaarii]

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

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]?”

Shit.

©asarii 2025 — do not copy, steal, repost, or translate any of my works on tumblr or any other site or run my works through ai

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hiii gator, what do you think all the petvincibles specific positions are with reader. Like power bottom, sub, switch leaning top, etc?

Invincible variants and what role they play in the bedroom

This is mainly a top reader blog, so thats what this will mainly go off of. 

Drank one of the worst cups of hot cocoa ive ever made. Do yall use milk or water when you make hot cocoa?

Sinister Mark 

Demanding rough dom bottom. 

Or, on his rare moments, a very soft and vulnerable bottom. 

High-top Mark 

A bit of a masochist bottom, likes to be railed hard enough to cry. 

Prisoner Mark 

Soft and vulnerable bottom for the most part. 

Has days where he wants to be in charge and do the riding, but hes nowhere near as rough as some of the others. 

20/20 or lenseless Mark 

Demanding, unstoppable, and feral, is the best way to describe him. 

Switch, but bottom leaning, but he likes to ride for the most part. 

Flaxan Mark 

A good 50/50 switch, but doesnt like doing any rough fucking, but likes to be taken a little rougher. 

Mohawk Mark 

Likes to claim hes a switch, but its mainly the days where he wants to show off that he tops. 

Likes being railed a little too much, but is very demanding and sarcastic at times. 

Long haired Mark 

Pretty whiny bottom, the kind that buries his face into the mattress. 

Bug eyed Mark 

Bottom leaning switch, isnt the most dom, but can be when he needs to be. 

Half Mask Mark 

Claims to be a switch, but its pretty obvious he isnt. He will do the fucking if he needs too, but he likes being pushed and held down more. 

Maskless Mark 

A good 50/50 switch, the kind to go slow and intimate, or just very intense at times. One of the most aware when it comes to aftercare, health and safety. 

Full Mask Mark 

Whiny whimpery sub bottom. 

Moustache Mark 

A bottom that doesnt express it for a good while, spends a good while trying to stay quiet so you sometimes have to knock the noises out of him. 

Shiesty Mark 

Chaotic switch, just a lil bit nasty in general, always uses too much lube and spit for the both of you. 

Omni-Mark 

Depends on the day. Rough and serious bottom, speaks in a flat tone. 

Or, very pretty whiny bottom that gets all teary eyed and has the prettiest bitten lips. 

Viltrumite Mark 

A worshipping kind of bottom, like, he would ride you slowly and intensely, just eyes half closed and really taking it all in. 

Also likes when you just take charge, and order him around. 

Bulletproof Mark 

Bit of a feral bottom at times, like, eyes rolling back, biting his tongue, drooling, grunting, as he rides you. 

Or, is a very good polite sub, will try his hardest to lay still as you do what you gotta do. 

Faceless Mark 

Bottom leaning switch, a bit more of a sub compared to the others, but isn't as feral or drooly about it as others. 

Empire Mark 

Very much claims to be a top, he is in no way a top. Biggest bratty bottom you have ever met, the kind you have to knock down a few, or many, pegs, until he's gasping and drooling. 

Original Mark variants (OCs) 

Evil emperor Mark 

Very very dominant bottom, made power bottoms a whole thing in his original universe. The kind to really make your hips ache when hes done. 

Will sometimes do it doggy, to let you feel like youre in charge, or he needs to just feel a little more vulnerable. 

Cyborg Mark 

Very shy bottom, like, wraps his arms around himself, looking up through his lashes, biting at his lip.  

Struggles to really submit because he fears his body, and the thought of losing control. 

Viltrumites are actually alien Mark 

It really depends. Most of the time hes just a comfortable switch, he can go either way. 

During his egg season it depends on if you are the one taking the eggs, or he does. 

Tiger Hybrid Mark 

Sub bottom, arches his back and chuffs, the most fun happens in the nest. 

Wolf Hybrid Mark 

Top leaning switch, mainly because he loves to mark the reader, to knot him, and to stuff him full. Wants to do it in doggy or bent over some surface. 

Bunny Hybrid Mark 

Lil bit of a bratty bottom, but nowhere near as much as empire Mark. Instead, he just whines a bit more and pouts all cutely. 

[tokoyamisstuff]

Hey! I just found your blog and I’m now obsessed with the variant marks! If it’s alright to ask, do you have any HC for them??

Invincible Variants x gn! Reader

Warnings: pretty marysue, toxic relationship, angst, mentions of canon-typical violence and death

A/N: heya, love! so glad I infected you with the hype ehehe. since you didn't specify what kind of hc's you wanted I just threw in whatever came to mind. 💌

Omnivincible idolizes his father to an unhealthy degree, but ultimatively if he ever had to decide beween him and you he'd choose the latter.

It was easy for him to get rid of all his friends and allies, hell, even his own mother...but he spared you, unable to imagine a life without you by his side.

He keeps the true nature of your relationship a secret, having convinced the empire that you're merely a slave for his personal entertainment, but he does consider you his legitimate mate. Be ready to get called his 'pet' a lot, but he'd rather have you like this than not at all.

While mostly in denial about all of the obstacles and dangers to this secret affair, he's relentlessly searching for a way to artificially extend your lifespan.

Movincihawk is one of those people who are somehow stupid and smart at the same time. I bet his father never actually made him see a school from the inside, thinking their inferior human knowledge is beneath them. So while he's a capable fighter and strategist, you somehow have to explain the most trivial concepts to this man - and he's absolutely delighted every time, even though he's too distracted by your beauty to actually listen.

This one is all bark and no bite honestly. He's a bully and loves harmlessly pranking you but if anyone disrespects you in any way they're suffering dire consequences.

Behind closed doors he'd do anything for scraps of your approval really. Out of that very same reason he loves to brag and show off, as well as indulge you in any way he can think of.

Frankly he doesn't give a shit about what anyone thinks about his feelings towards you. Not that anyone would dare speaking up anyways.

I feel like Sinister is a born sociopath, and his universe probably is a tad bit more evil in general. Like there was no major event or anything that led to him being this way, this is just his default.

On the inside he is a deeply insecure person and tries to mask it through his god-complex. Rarely and only subtly he lets his guard down around you, just to become ten times worse afterwards, to compensate having shown weakness.

His fixation on you began when you dared standing up to him, unafraid despite being like a bug he could crush under his boot any given time. This fascination made him keep you alive long enough to develop romantic feelings for you, however he is still in denial about them.

Emotions in general are a foreign concept to him, so he keeps telling himself you're just a fleeting pastime. Even you are not safe from his sadistic tendencies, especially since he revels in trying to scare you away and knowing you'll always come back to him eventually.

The immense arrogance of Target/Striped Mark stems from him being raised 'for greatness' from the very beginning. He spent his entire childhood secluded from any civilization, alienating him from earth's inhabitants.

Back during his teenage years, after his powers awakened, he gave in to his curiosity and explored the planet and their people incognito, meeting you by sheer coincidence. Although his upbringing had indoctrinated him to believe you to be a lowlife, he felt drawn to you again and again.

When you found out about his true nature, he didn't leave you any choice and instead abducted you directly. He is a very strict man and has high expectations not only in himself and his subjects, but especially in you. And even though he has a soft spot for you, you better not disappoint him.

Fun fact: Him shouting so much does in fact not stem from his obvious anger issues, but rather a training injury that left his hearing permanently impaired.

No Goggles Invincible was probably raised the most merciless, being tormented both emotionally and physically from a very early age. This caused his mind to break at some point, which is the reason he's acting even more unhinged than the others.

In his dimension Debbie sided with her husband, and Mark greatly blamed her for not having protected him from Omni-man's abuse, ending up in him ultimatively killing both of his parents. So it's no wonder he has major trust issues, trying to control you through fear. Prepare for mood swings, regular break downs of his and random loyalty tests.

Due to his hardly contained sadistic site, he has a hard time restraining himself from harming you. On the other hand he also greatly enjoys you inflicting pain on him in any way possible. Sadly this is the only form of closeness he's used to, and being treated tenderly is actually frightening to him.

Once he almost killed you in a violent fit of rage and this mistake haunts him to this day. Ever since he's terrified of touching you.

Viltrumite Invincible got abducted by Nolan shortly after birth and was raised among his people, only returning decades later to finish what his father started.

And just like the main timeline Nolan, he folded like a lawnchair after crossing paths with you. It was love at first sight really, and being subjected to true affection that was frowned upon in his culture was just the nail that sealed the coffin of the empire.

Several times he had tried to regain his focus, coming with the intent to kill you for distracting him from his goal, and yet much to his frustration he could never bring himself to do so. The last time he tried he ended up asking for your hand in marriage.

Unlike his father however he confessed the truth to you way earlier, claiming that meeting you made him reevalue everything he was ever taught.

Prisoner Invincible got his scars as a punishment for rebeling against the Viltrum empire and trying to take over their reign. Actually they intended to rehabilitate him out of sheer desperation for their population was dwindling, but he couldn't care less.

Unlike the other variants who joined their father since it's the path of least resistance, he refused to after being told you wouldn't be allowed to be together. He is as much of a dangerous and ruthless individual as his counterparts, but he always remained loyal to you. It was the two of you against the rest of the universe, quite literally.

Even after finally being reunited with you his disfigurement never really bothered him, since the bond you two shared exceeded anything else.

The most similar to the original Mark would be Unmasked Mark, at least in the beginning. Yet he soon realized that any resistance to the power of Viltrum was useless, so he just gave in to his fate and worked for a cause he deeply despised.

Even after his betrayal and you ending up joining the resistance you'll find yourself entangled with each other every time you'd clash. Until the very end you believed that he'd have a change of heart, never stopping to treat him with kindness despite being on different sites of the battle.

Over time he became so immeasurably hopeless and full of self-loathing that he killed you as an act of mercy, in order to spare you a gruesome death during their explotation of the planet.

He still listens to your old voicemails, it's the only way he can find some sleep.

Fully Masked Invincible is the most sensitive of the lot but far from innocent either. He took the risk and tried to stop Viltrum from the inside, but their influence slowly but steadily corrupted him from the inside. And the less human he felt, the more he feared he wasn't worthy of your love anymore.

Viltrum considered his sentiments for you a flaw, and even though he ended the relationship to keep you out of harm's way, they got rid of you so you couldn't intervene with their soldier any further. He blamed himself for not having been there to defend you, haunted by nightmares of how he held your limp body as life left your eyes.

He was never able to fill the void in his heart, and with nothing else to live for he continued to work for the empire, growing callous to all of the carnage around him as everything seemed pointless without you.

Shall he succeed to get another version of you back with him, he's awfully overprotective, the mere thought of losing you again making him paranoid. Expect anything from constant surveilance over being imprisoned and even people close to you getting murdered 'for your own good'.