#mark grayson variants x reader

[oddlylovingaddiction]

“Reader died in every other universe,” “reader doesn’t exist in any other universe,” I RAISE YOU;

Reader only doesn’t exist in the mainstream universe

reader exists in every universe and is vastly different in each one

Reader exists in each universe and is the exact same (my personal fave)

I like the one where there are more of reader the exact same because that would be so interesting, like imagine you and your alternates dress the exact same, so when each alternate mark comes to get you… THEY ALL HAVE NO CLUE. in fact imagining the marks trying to figure it out would be HILARIOUS.

Mainstream!reader (whispering): “so who’s your mark?”

Nogoggles!reader (whispering back): “No goggles mark!”

All the marks are standing in front of the crowd of readers trying to guess which ones their’s, all of them are increasingly getting more panicked

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hey Gator, it’s the anon who wasn’t doing great a few days ago. Something really scary happened on Wednesday but I’m doing a lot better, took a few days to relax, I’m catching up on some stuff. I just wanted to tell you that I’m doing better, so your advice does help!! Also if you could give some HCs for Viltrumite mark, I don’t really mind which one, I’d love it!!

Viltrumite Mark Grayson x male reader 

Headcanons 

Hi anon, im sorry something bad happened, but happy you are doing better now. Have some viltrumite Mark headcanons, sorry it took a bit.  

I like to imagine that viltrumite Mark is one of the older Marks amongst the variants. Him, alongside Prisoner Mark and Flaxan Mark. 

Being one of the older Marks also means hes one of the strongest, but also most levelheaded when it comes to battle and viltrumite work in general. 

I have a headcanon, that he was born on earth, lived there for a bit, but gained his powers early, but not so early that he was completely brainwashed, like Moustache Mark.  

Viltrumite Mark would still have memories of his mom, of being a normal human, but he has lived much longer under the viltrumite empire. 

 At the time he was so weak he could do nothing but submit and go along with it, and now hes older, but so numb to it all, that he doesnt go against the status quo.  

This also means he speaks in a very flat tone and has a bland expression for the most part. Noticing his feelings can be a challenge at times, as hes so used to hiding them, and just not feeling things. 

You notice through small stuff. Like the small twitches in his brow, pull at his lips, or when he crosses his arms and fiddles with his fingers. Its almost impossible in the beginning, but you learn, and he opens up with time. 

Being one of the older Marks also means that his vilrumite biology is more visible, and stronger. The human DNA is overwritten completely over time, and so his body starts changing. 

This means he runs hotter, has a longer and smooth tongue without tastebuds, doesn't have fingerprints, heals quicker, and he's the smallest physically,,, down there. 

This isn't actually because he's the smallest, it's just that viltrumite biology wants to draw his vulnerable parts back into his body, and he hasn't fully reached the point where it's completely sealed inside his body just yet. 

Having lived so long under a horrible leader, forced to do so many bad things, Viltrumite Mark would search out comfort and safety, without truly realizing. 

He wouldn't express it much, but Mark finds comfort in submitting to his partner. It doesn't even have to be anything sensual, just him pledging himself to them gives him a sense of purpose. 

Maybe it's a result of many many years of being more a tool than a person, of always having to mind his status as a halfbreed and where he stood compared to his superiors. 

Here he didn't have a choice if he wanted to bend his knee to them, but with you, he gets the choice. You loving him and treating him kindly also helps, because this is the first time he has given himself to somebody, and it hasn't hurt. 

Is it horrible that I think he has at least one or two children in his original universe? Specifically with Anissa.  

It would have been her way of showing him that she was superior, and that he was just a tool for the empire and for true viltrumites like her. 

In the end, Mark would have killed both her and the children when he became strong enough, this would be one of the few killings he took great joy in committing, drawing out Anissa's death for as long as possible. 

This would cause the quiet Mark variant to be cautious when you first started showing him affection, even if he arches towards it like a sunflower towards the sun. 

It feels like it's too good to be true, so he would be mistrusting in the beginning, keeping his distance and maybe even striking out like an abused cat. 

Until he realizes that he actually feels comfortable and safe with you, that he can be himself, and be allowed to exist as Mark, not whatever title the viltrumite empire gave him. 

You allow him to be human again, after he's almost completely forgotten how. 

Hes still pretty cold and cruel at times, but never towards you.  

Mark would have extremely little care for humanity though, after he's wiped out so many planets and lived so long, then humanity feels like nothing more than specs of dust int he grand scheme of things. 

He would step up and help though, if you were in danger. Nobody else matters to him in that regard, but because you are from earth and like it here, then yeah, he will help when Mark absolutely has too. 

[invoncible]

BLUFF ✰ mark grayson & mohawk mark w/ childhood bsf! fem! reader cw. canon compliant themes (ex. distress)

SUMMARY. when mohawk mark doesn't find debbie at his childhood home, he goes after the next best thing: you. he thinks you're together in this world too, and when he realizes you're not... well, how could he possibly give up such a perfect opportunity? / wc. 6k oops

— i started this to train my writing skills but it got out of hand T-T anyways enjoy <3

You didn't even notice your phone ringing. It must've been the third time it buzzed on your kitchen counter but for the life of you, you could not look away from the news. Invincible was laying waste to all the major cities of the globe, seemingly unprovoked.

Your breath caught when the news broke to process new information, senses finally tuning into the whirring behind you. You swiped your phone, barely glancing at the caller ID before answering.

"Hel—"

"Y/N, thank goodness." Debbie gasped on the other end.

You stood rigid. You've known Debbie your whole life. You and Mark were inseparable growing up—it was a rare occurrence to hear her so unnerved. Her unease was contagious, zapping through the wireless connection and taking root in your conscience.

"Are—" You cleared your throat, clutching the phone tighter. You walked over to the window, dragging down the blinds with two fingers and peeking outside. "Are you okay? You sound—"

"Fine, I'm fine." A shaky exhale was what you were met with, along with the sounds of a car starting up. "Honey, have you seen the news? You need to stay safe." A pause followed, too long to be natural. "Do you have anywhere else to go?"

You scrunched your brows in confusion. "Um... no, I don't. But from what they're saying on the news, the Invincibles are only targeting big cities."

"Listen. If you stay there—" Debbie's line crackled as you assumed she was driving away, far away from the neighborhood and fast. “—‘ll come for you.”

“No, you don’t have to do that. I've got my car if something goes wrong.” You pulled away from your phone, glancing at the call screen when you got no response. "Hello?"

"In light of new footage, we have information that—"

The TV fizzled out next, the low drone of cable replacing rowdy chatter of the newsroom. A low-pixel message of NO SIGNAL floated around the screen, bouncing off the edges.

You stared at yourself in the black reflection, wishing it would flip on again so you weren't alone with your thoughts. The paranoia was setting in... you could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

“Mark is—”

beeeeeep.

"Hello?" You whispered over the phone, desperate for Debbie's familiar comfort. “...Debbie? Mark is what?”

A rhythmic beeeep beep met your ears instead. You glanced at your phone once again—CALL FAILED.

"Ohhhkay." You muttered under your breath. This is fine, you soothed yourself.

The electricity in your house died out, gently setting you into darkness. With the TV signal lost and your phone disconnected, the cell towers and power grid were probably down.

This is fine. As long as you stayed inside, you'd be fine.

You pulled down the blinds once more, letting a shred of the sunset glow into your home. Your gaze travelled to Mark's house; across the street, a couple houses down. So easily accessible yet so distant at the same time.

You and Mark were attached at the hip for seventeen years—your entire lives. Separation should have felt strange. But just two years since growing apart, his absence almost felt... normal.

Almost like he was never there to begin with.

You went off to university. You assumed he did, too, but got more reliable intel when you connected with William. He shared that they both got into Upstate, as well as his girlfriend, Amber.

Girlfriend?

You remember the pause you took to process that information—the moment you realized he was moving forward while you remained where he left you. Facing the reality that you were no longer a part of his life.

"Stop fidgeting," You whispered with a little chuckle. "It's high school, not the end of the world."

"High school is where things start to happen." Mark whined as he pulled down the hem of his sweater. "Grades matter, who you hang out with matters, girls matter."

"Uh-huh."

"You think I would make a good jock?"

"You've got the look for it."

"Dumb?"

"Yes."

Mark rolled his eyes, a smile playing on his lips as you both walked up the steps to the next phase of your life. "That's not very nice."

"You can be anything you want, Mark." You groaned, deciding to be encouraging. "Literally. You're good at everything. You'll fit in wherever you want to."

"Okay. Too nice." He huffed and bumped into your side. "But thanks. I just..."

Your brows furrowed in concern when his head dipped, distress sneaking its way through his cheerful disposition.

"Stuff's supposed to happen this year. Big stuff." He was mumbling, unfocused like he regretted taking the conversation this direction to begin with. "I don't want to mess this up."

You wanted to tell him high school wasn't that deep. There were complete losers that all turned out just fine. Something about his expression, though... it was heavy.

You weren't sure what he was talking about, but you knew what he needed. You always did. "Whatever stuff you're talking about... it's gonna work out. You'll take it one step at a time just like you always have, and you have your parents at your side.... William, me."

He offered you a little smile. "We'll do this together?" He held out his pinky finger.

You giggle and interlocked yours with his. "Together."

He broke that promise pretty quickly. Different classes were the first step apart. From there, it only got harder to see each other.

Family stuff was Mark's favorite excuse—vaguely explaining family stuff had become 90% of your conversations. You figured he didn't want to tell you whatever he was really going through, which was fine. It hurt, but it was fine.

Before you knew it, you stopped talking altogether. You didn't think much of it at first—you were approaching adulthood, obviously you were going to get busy. You just thought you'd get busy together. You didn't even know what he was up to these days.

You drew back from the blinds with a long sigh, hoping that Debbie and Mark were safe. Wherever they were.

You trudged down into the basement to turn the generator on. The wooden stairs of the unfinished space crrrrrreaked under your feet. You waved away the dust, pounding your chest to cough the particles that snuck their way into your airway.

It was cooler down here, much darker without the ambient lighting of the sunset above. With your trusty phone flashlight, you managed to maneuver your way through the storage buckets and old boxes to the backup generator.

You grunted trying to pull the lever down. "Shit..." you cursed in disgust, feeling the grime and dust underneath your palm. i want electricity i want electricity, you repeated over and over to block out the icky sensation.

"Need some help?"

"Ah—!" you shrieked, spinning around in a panic. Your flashlight illuminated the figure in front of you, shadowed by the soft light of open door upstairs. "What—" who—?!

"Damn. Relax."

Vaulting over your initial dread, you grabbed something—a wrench or a hammer, you didn’t know, you didn't care—and swung it with all your might.

They caught it in their fist. Your breath shriveled up in your throat at how stiff they were, intercepting your attack without even budging. Their fingers curled tight around the tool and yanked you close.

"tsk, tsk," Their low voice chuckled. "Thought you'd be happy to see me, pretty girl."

You shone your light into the intruder's face, the tension in your body dissipating when you recognized—

"...Mark?" You squinted in the darkness, the flashlight just barely illuminating his face in a ghastly glow. "Wha... what are you doing here?" You huffed.

Blood was pumping through your system, telling you to get ready to run. Your nerves wouldn't calm their tingle even though you realized it was just Mark. Cuz it was Mark, right?

"Checking on you."

"Where's your mom?"

"Smart enough to leave home."

"Oh, yeah. She called. I thought you'd be with her..." You trailed off, frowning when you heard him laughing. "What?"

"Nothing." He hummed. "You're just so..."

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing."

"Okay..." You gave him a weird look. Then your brain caught up to you: Pretty girl? "Aren't you dating Amber?"

He took a moment to think, tossing the wrench aside and grabbing your wrist in his hand instead. "Am I?"

You pursed your lips, eyes narrowing. "I'm... asking you?"

He shrugged. "I wouldn't know."

"What—" You exhaled, brows knitted in confusion. You tried to pull away but he held firm; for every step back, he followed. "Mark, wait—"

Your phone clattered to the ground, the ray of light spinning chaotically through the darkness before it fell on its back.

"I missed you." He murmured lowly, almost reverent in the way he boxed you against the cold generator. "Shhh..." He calmed your trembling frame with his strong arms (when'd he get so strong?) wrapped around your shoulders.

He burrowed his nose in your hair. "It's me, bunny. Why're you so scared?"

This isn't Mark. Your heart pounded at your chest, eyes frozen and piercing into the darkness over his shoulder—Wake up, dumbass. This isn't Mark.

When your tremors refused to quiet, he pulled back with what you hoped was concern. That's when you saw his hair...

"Is that..." You whispered. The soft light from the main floor was fading, but reflected off the shiny sides of Mark's head. "Are you bald?"

What was he doing in the two years since you saw each other?

"Aw..." He laughed heartily, leaning further towards you and flattening his palms over the top of the generator. "Not quite."

He leaned to your side, breath fanning over the shell of your ear as he continued to snicker to himself softly. He grabbed the lever of the generator and shoved it down.

Your body jostled into his firm chest as it sprung to life. It went clank-clank-clank-clank, pumping electricity back into your home. You heard the melodic trills from upstairs as devices booted up again.

The light in the basement flipped back on. It didn't reach you. Mark towered over you and kept you in shadow. But you could see him—rather, who he wasn't.

"What?" Mohawk Mark grinned down at you, sadistic and teasing. "Not who you were expecting?"

No, not who you were expecting. He looked like Mark, sounded like Mark, felt like Mark... But your Mark had a kind face.

"You're not..."

"Nope."

You felt the heat drain from your body as you simply stared up at him, wide-eyed. Run. Where? Why the fuck was he dressed like ... Invincible...

A connection snapped together in your head, synapses clicking together like legos. Oh. Invincible. Everything made sense now, and you felt a little stupid for not figuring it out sooner.

And now one of those murderous variants you saw on the news was in your home.

"You're really out of it, huh?" He frowned, waving a gloved hand in front of your face. He sighed and looked away, "I thought you'd—"

You had the itch to burst into a sprint. You snatched your phone off the floor and ducked under his arm, skipping stairs to the main floor. Car. Keys? Where the fuck did you put them?

A shuddered whimper tumbled off your lips. You felt helpless, mind racing with too many things at once to pick one task and get out of there. You snatched your purse from the sofa, rifling through it to make sure your keys were inside before going outside.

"Come on, come on," You whispered, out of breath.

"Don't run from me, Y/N," Mohawk Mark sang teasingly, drawing out the last syllable of your name. "Hey, I'm just playing with you."

You screamed anyway, the sound harsh and high-pitched. He pouted, hand firmly around your arm to prevent you from breaking away.

"C'mon, baby. You're hurting my feelings. We're just having fun, yeah? A little roleplay?"

First off, you wished he'd stop calling you things like that. It felt wrong, but... good. With every pet name, he let butterflies loose in your tummy. Your heart pulsed, sending heat to your cheeks. Your brain reminded you, this isn't Mark... this isn't Mark... this isn't the real Mark...

Second, what kinda freaky ass fuck did he turn into?

You rolled out of his grip, barely making it a step away before his arm circled around your stomach, pulling you back into his chest.

"Get the fuck off me—" You squirmed uselessly, your phone and bag tumbling onto the floor. You yelped when he threw you over his shoulder, patting the small of your back affectionately as if securing cargo. "Mark!"

He just laughed, taking off through the door at a abnormal speed. Your nose smushed into his back under the acceleration, stomach somersaulted twenty times over as you soared up into the clouds.

He stopped in the air. With a hoarse shriek you clung to him as if he was your lifeline. He was, in this moment, despite everything. Your legs immediately latched around his waist, and he supported you with hands under your thighs.

"Oh, come on, now." He chuckled with a shake of his head. He easily held you and brought a hand to wipe your cheeks. "I'm just playing around. If I'd known you were this sensitive, I would've taken it a little bit easier on you..."

You hadn't even realized you started crying.

He stared at you, eyes trailing over your face. He laughed softly to himself. "Who am I kidding. No, I wouldn't have. You know how cute you are when you cry?"

You glared at him but his grin only grew wider. "What? M'not gonna hurt you! Haven't I shown you that?"

You stared at him incredulously, finally finding your voice and blowing up at him. Your fists curled, pounding at his chest and jabbing a finger in his face. "You broke into my home and have me hanging 100ft in the air?!"

"So? I'm not dropping you, am I?" You felt his fingers tap against your thigh.

"That—" Your cheeks burned. but from being embarrassed or flustered, you couldn't quite place.

"This world's Mark is the biggest piece of shit for leaving girlfriend all alone."

You blinked, "Girlfriend?"

"Yeah, you're..." Mark's head tilted, sharp eyes acutely aware of your confusion. "Ohhh. Don't tell me that fucker didn't lock you down."

You didn't even know what to say. Things were being thrown at you left and right and you were still on the fact that Mark was Invincible. Your mind rifled through all the headlines that had his name... all that pain, death, and destruction... and how you weren't there for him.

He clicked his tongue in disappointment. "Well. I'm a better version, anyway."

[]

The sun finally set on day 2 the war with no hope in sight. Mark just admitted Eve into the hospital—she stubbornly decided to help him with two of his variants and paid the price. Her broken leg was under construction, and she was unconscious.

Mark sighed as he closed the door behind him, looking up to see Cecil waiting for him in the hallway.

"You can't be here, kid."

Mark scowled. "The other Invincibles know about this place. They could kill her to get at me. I... can't lose another friend. I won't."

After Amber, Mark wanted to be with Eve. It was the next logical step, right? Both superheroes, went through a lot together, understood each other... But he couldn't bring himself to do it. Not even under Future Eve's advice.

Not when he still held space for you in his heart.

He was an asshole for it, he knew that. He couldn't put a date to the last time you spoke and he selfishly held onto your memory. Were you pining for him like he was pining for you?

His time with Amber taught him a lot. He wasn't going to make you suffer like she did. He wasn't going to ruin the friendship he had with you just because he selfishly wanted your love.

"We're losing this, Mark." Cecil sighed, snapping Mark out of his thoughts. The bruise on his face throbbed with every word. "The world needs you."

"You got every superhero on the planet fighting for you right now." Mark shot back angrily, shutting his eyes only to see you behind his lids.

"Mark. Oliver's out there. Your mother's out there." Cecil pressed, pulling out his phone. "Which reminds me. She left a voicemail."

With his interest successfully piqued, Mark listened as his mother's panicked voice played over Cecil's device.

"I can't reach Mark—if you see him, tell him I'm at Paul's. Oliver insisted on going out there, and I let him on the condition he finds his big brother."

Mark's gaze dropped down to the floor guiltily, a war of emotions swirling inside him.

"I couldn't stop him if I tried. He was going to sneak out anyway, but..." A sharp inhale. "I'm worried. I know they're strong, I know that. But these other versions... they're nothing like Mark." Seconds of silence passed as she collected her thoughts. "Can you check on someone for me? If all these Marks grew up the same, there's a childhood friend on our street that he was never without. I tried to reach her but service went down. Please."

Cecil pulled back his phone. "I already sent agents to her home—"

Mark's head snapped up, gritting his teeth in annoyance. "What did I say about going near my family?"

"I wasn't aware she was family." Cecil raised an eyebrow, pocketing his device and pulling down his cuffs.

"They're my responsibility. She's my responsibility." Mark retorted, running a anxious hand through his hair.

"A thank you would be nice." Cecil mumbled, unperturbed by the boy's argument. "Seeing as you are currently shirking said responsibility."

"Don't—" Mark lurched forward, a threat on his tongue. Cecil flinched backwards, his hand firmly in his pocket finding his controller.

Mark pulled back, dropping his fist. "...Just shut the fuck up, Cecil." He blasted off through the halls.

Cecil watched him leave with bated breath, exhaling slowly when he got the intel that Mark was off the grounds. At least he was out there.

[]

"I killed the Guardians, yeah."

"All of them?"

"Yeah. No big deal."

You raised your eyes in surprise but the notion wasn't as gruesome as you thought it would be. Blinded by love, maybe? Or were you just happy to be talking to Mark again, regardless of the version?

Hours ago, you couldn't imagine sitting in your bedroom with the man who invaded your home. But, genuinely, what were you supposed to do? Pick a fight and lose? Worse, die? You weren't so stupid to waste the goodwill he held for you.

"What happened to me in your world?" You asked, your voice quieter now.

Mark tilted his head, exhaling through his nose. His jaw flexed, like the memory alone was an irritation.

"The resistance killed you to get at me," he muttered, his voice dark, laced with something sharp and unhinged. The crazed gleam in his eye flickered under the dim lighting, like a fire burning just beneath the surface. Then, with an almost amused sigh, he shifted his weight, offering you a small, self-satisfied smile. "Don't worry. I made them pay for it."

You didn’t bother asking how.

Mark’s arm stretched behind you, draping lazily across the back of the pillows, his fingers idly toying with the fabric of your sleeve. Every casual brush of his fingertips sent a ripple of goosebumps across your skin.

"We were a good thing, you know," he mused, voice lower now, softer. gentle. "You didn’t fight me. You didn’t run. You loved me." There was a teasing lilt in his voice that you recognized.

That’s not so different here, you swallowed the thought, masking it with a roll of your eyes. "Did you love me?"

That made him pause. His gaze flicked to yours, brows furrowing slightly, like the question had caught him off guard. Then a slow smirk tugged at his lips, amusement flashing in his expression before he let out a low chuckle.

He leaned in so close you could feel his breath ghost over your lips. "Let me show you," he murmured, voice dark and filled with intent.

The air between you tightened as his hand trailed from your sleeve, fingers dragging along the bare skin of your arm, slow and deliberate. His touch was light, teasing, like he was waiting for you to react—to pull away or lean in.

You offered him nothing but a careful stare and the slow rise and fall of your chest.

His eyes narrowed, delighting in the challenge. His nose brushed against yours, his lips lingering just shy of touching.

Pull away, your brain screamed at you, ringing every warning bell it had in the book. This isn't right.

But his other hand came up, grazing along your jaw... and his fingers slid beneath your chin, tilting your head up, forcing you to meet his eyes... all of it felt so familiar, like something out of a dream. And it'd been so long since you saw his brown wells, you couldn't tear your gaze away.

Your daze was broken when you heard him laugh again. He adored the way you frowned in confusion, the moonlight twinkling in the reflection of your eyes.

“Aww,” he cooed, lips curving into a knowing smirk. “look at you. So easy. This world’s Mark has left you all alone, hasn’t he?”

Your chest rose and fell with uneven breaths as he tilted his head, watching you squirm.

“S'like you’ve been waiting for this," he hummed. His hand gripped your chin, tilting your face up, forcing you to look at him. His eyes darkened at whatever he saw.

“I’ll take care of you,” he murmured, brushing his lips over yours—you could feel him smiling. “Since he won’t.”

Stop, stop, stop. You wanted Mark, wanted him desperately, but not like this. Not with him.

You released the breath you were holding when he paused his fixation on your lips, head turning minutely to the side as if he was hearing something.

"For fuck's sake..." Mark scoffed, a low chuckle passing through his lips. "Speak of the devil."

What?

Mohawk Mark heard the whistle of air before you did, only clueing in when it grew louder. It reached a peak when a projectile CRASHED through your window—

You scrambled backwards on your mattress as splinters flew everywhere. Mark caught you before you tumbled off the bed, shielding you from the broken glass and wood.

"What's—" You began to ask, but over Mark's shoulder you saw him—the real Mark.

You just stared at each other for a moment, though you couldn't see much past his tinted goggles. But the slow scowl growing on his lips communicated all you needed to know.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Mark—the real one—growled. "Get off her."

Mohawk Mark laughed into your shoulder, turning to face him. "Why? She's not yours, is she?"

Mark's eyes twitched behind his goggles, abandoning his inhibitions and diving at him, grabbing his variant's hair and yanking him off of you—

"Mark..." you warned, fear bubbling in your gut.

—your caution fell on deaf ears; Mark threw him up and drove him through the floor.

"Mark!" you yelled behind him, feeling the air whip past your face, following him as he crashed into the living room below. "Shit—"

Squeaking as you fought against the slope of the cavity, your feet, only clad in socks, provided the worst possible grip and you began slipping down the gap. Your breath caught in your chest as you felt yourself plummeting—

"Hey." His voice was urgent yet comforting, his arms tightening around your body in seconds, pulling you back from the edge. "I got you."

Your hand instinctively gripped his shoulder, grounding yourself as you realized you were suspended in his embrace. As he gently descended to the floor, your eyes moved quickly, scanning the outline of his goggles.

"You... I guess you know now, then." His voice was low, heavier than usual, like a weight he’d been carrying finally released.

The moment your feet met the ground, you stepped back, your heart pounding. Across the room, Mohawk Mark was sprawled on the floor, blood leaking from his nose, unconscious for now. Your gaze flicked back to your Mark, heart still racing.

"Yeah, I know." You snapped, the anger rushing through you, the frustration and confusion bubbling up.

His expression faltered, something unreadable flashing across his face before he sighed, almost too quietly, as if he were disappointed in himself.

"You’re angry," he observed, his voice tinged with regret.

"No shit, I’m angry!" Your hand shot out, slapping against his chest before it balled into a fist at your side. Every inch of you was yelling at him, every question, every unspoken feeling, everything that had been left unsaid for the past two years. "The first time I've seen you in two years and it's—it's not even you?"

"I know, I know," Mark’s hands moved to his mask, tearing it off with an impatience that only grew when it caught on his nose. He grimaced as he yanked it free, tossing it to the side. The dim light of the room revealed the exhaustion etched into his face, but even through that, you could see him—the real him, just... different. Worn down, tired.

"I can explain."

"You better fuckin start."

"Be mad at me all you want, but look at this." His arms gestured wildly around your place. "I was right to not tell you! It could've been way worse, way sooner if you knew anything about what I was really up to. Why didn't you leave when Mom called you?!"

"The phone cut off, asshole, I didn't hear everything she said, and I certainly wasn't aware that you were the one behind Invincible—"

He shook his head, dismissing the topic. He stepped into your space and held onto your arms. "Did he touch you?"

"Get off me."

"Did he touch you?" He pressed, shaking you slightly as his grip tightened around your biceps.

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the urgent crack in his voice. "Yes, but I let him."

He pulled away from you as if burnt. A heavy silence hung in the air, nothing but the clattering of broken floorboards crashing down from above.

"...He's a murderer, Y/N." He whispered, eyes narrowed.

You knew that. You knew he was right. "I was... vulnerable."

"He killed people—"

"Shut up," You snapped, cutting him off. "Don't lecture me; this is a nonissue. What was I supposed to do? Hm? Want me to pick up my fists and come out swinging like you did—"

"I thought he was hurting you!"

"My hero." You rolled your eyes, the words dripping with bitter sarcasm. You knew you were being unfair, maybe a little cruel, but you couldn’t stop yourself. You were exhausted from the many near death experiences you've somehow survived in the last few hours. Strung so tight you felt like you might snap.

Every inch of you was begging to cry and let him hug you like you both so clearly wanted... but the fact that it took something this bad to get him to show up? That hurt more than anything.

Mark stared at you, his face an amalgamation of emotions, like he couldn’t decide on one.

Should he be angry at you for being difficult, for making him work for this moment when all he wanted was to explain? Should he feel pain, the sharp ache in his chest that another Mark got to hold you before he did? Or was it jealousy, searing heat into his face, that another version of himself had been the one to touch you, to be close to you before he had the chance? Maybe... maybe it was the bittersweet happiness, the relief that he was finally standing here in front of you.

He didn’t even care that you were glaring daggers at him—he missed staring into your eyes, albeit hardened and displeased, making his heart race; the way you’d furrow your brow when you were frustrated, the way your voice would call out to him.

Mark’s hand twitched at his side, wanting to reach out, but he held himself back. Would you even allow it? The distance between you was far more than physical. He had a thousand things to say but in that moment, words felt hollow.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he finally muttered, his voice quieter, more vulnerable than he intended.

Childish.

You scoffed lightly, rolling your eyes again. "All that time and that's all you have to—"

Before you could finish, your world spun. The floor tilted beneath you as Mohawk Mark launched himself into you, sweeping you off your feet and through the door.

[]

"Y/N!" Mark yelled after you, breathing heavy in a panic. "No, no, no, no—" He launched himself from your home, bursting through the roof after you.

You barely heard him over the rushing wind. You clawed at Mohawk Mark's back, the height siphoning the air from your lungs. "Stop..." You ordered weakly.

"Changed your mind already?" He laughed, cradling you in his arms. Your head lolled against his chest. "Don't tell me you buy his bullshit."

"Mm..." The sharp ascent from ground level to the clouds made your head spin, vision darkening as you grew dizzier.

"You're fucking dead!" Your Mark came out of nowhere, shooting up beside Mohawk Mark and bashing his nose in. With a pained groan, he dropped you. "Shit—"

"Look what you made me do, dipshit!" Mohawk Mark snarled, shoving Invincible away and bolting after you.

"Don't—" Mark growled in frustration, racing against time. He watched as your limp body dropped helplessly against gravity.

It never changed. Whether he told you or not, you would end up in these perilous situations regardless. He cursed under his breath, catching Mohawk Mark's ankle and catapulting him into the night sky before pushing forward.

He collected you in his arms before it was too late, wasting no time as he shifted his direction and carried you off to GDA's hospital.

[]

The steady beep... beep... beep of your heart monitor was the first thing you tuned into upon waking up.

"Oh, good."

Your eyes fluttered open, slowly drifting towards Mark. He was bent over your cot, his hand on your forehead while staring down at you with stars in his eyes.

"You just passed out. Nothing serious, but I wanted to make sure." He mumbled, pulling back.

Your eyes drifted back to the ceiling, unfocused and hollow. There was too much—too much to process, too much to feel, too much weighing down on your chest all at once. It pressed against your ribs, thick and suffocating, a tidal wave crashing over you before you could even take a breath. Every nerve in your body screamed with something—fear, exhaustion, embarrassment, confusion—but it all blended together into one overwhelming, crushing force. Your mind was shutting down for its own sake.

The sounds around you dulled into distant echoes, the weight of your own limbs barely registering. Your chest rose and fell, but it felt mechanical.

"Y/N?" Mark whispered, brows furrowing in concern. "Hey." he poked your shoulder.

You shook your head, turning away from him as tears pooled in your eyes. God, you felt so embarrassed.

Mark frowned when you shifted away from him, any comfort he planned to offer dying in his throat. "I'm... sorry." was all he could say.

Nothing.

His leg bounced nervously, chewing at his lip as he fought with his own emotions. "I want to kill him for putting hands on you."

Your brows tightened. Not what you wanted to hear either.

He sighed heavily, running his hands through his hair. "M'sorry for blowing up at you. It's not your fault—"

"It is." You sniffled. "I missed you... so much, that I pretended that he was you..." you choked on the words, turning your back to him and burying your face into the pillow. "How pathetic is that?"

Mark's heart squeezed, kicking off his shoes and climbing onto the bed next to you. "Stop. Not your fault." He reiterated.

You scoffed and shook your head, laughing wryly. He frowned, and pulled you to face him. He saw your tears and felt his own pile up behind his eyes.

"I'm sorry." He whispered. "I told my.... uh, last relationship that I was Invincible. It didn't end well for her, and I didn't want to put you in that same position. Always unsure, always in danger, always waiting..."

"I'm not her, Mark." You muttered.

"I know." He pursed his lips. "I was gone for months at a time—"

"I waited two years for you, didn't I?" You pushed away from him and sunk back into the cot. "You didn't even give me a chance."

Childish. That’s how you sounded. Because in the end, that’s all you two were—two kids who once grew up side by side finding each other once more, with all the petulant hurt coming through the surface.

A beat of silence passed between you, with nothing but your heart monitor to keep the time.

"You said he touched you." He started.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "...don't bring that up."

"No, I want to know." He shifted his weight, hovering over you. His face was painted with something foreign, green-eyed and greedy. "Show me."

Heat blossomed on your face as you lay in his shadow. "Mark..." You laughed nervously. "It was barely anything."

"You missed me so much you had to settle for that." Mark didn't look away from you for a second. "I want to give you the real thing."

You screwed your face up. Again, the thought passed through your mind: you wanted Mark, but not like this. "I don't want this to be a pity thing."

"No," Mark shook his head firmly. "not pity. Everything I feel for you has been there since... since I can remember. And it fucking boils my blood that a different version of me got to you before I had the balls to do it myself. Please," he whispered. "I need this."

"Need what?"

"You." He answered, like the answer was obvious. To him, it was. "I'm done waiting around."

You blinked at him before a soft smile spread across your face. "Me too."

Mark's lips brushed against yours with a gentleness that made your heart ache. He cupped your face in his hands, and you melted into him, your arms wrapping around his neck.

You let out a soft sigh when his lips parted slightly, allowing you both to breathe. You pressed forward, kissing him harder, feeling the intensity of everything that had been building between you over the years—years of longing, of waiting, of wanting something more.

Mark responded with equal hunger, his hands sliding down your back, pulling you closer. His chest rose and fell with each breath, his heart pounding against yours.

Where had he touched you? Mark didn't care anymore. By the time he was done with you, you'd know his touch and his alone, and he'd know every inch of you like the back of his hand. He wasn't leaving this room without it. He was allowing himself to be selfish for once; for you, it was worth it.

He sat back on his haunches, tugging his gloves off by his teeth before diving back into you, sliding his bare fingers underneath your shirt, sighing into your mouth as he squeezed your skin in his palm.

"You'll never need anyone ever again," He nosed your cheek, trailing kisses down your jaw to your neck. "Promise."

This time, you believed him.

— wayyy too self indulgent lmk if it was boring at places :)

© invoncible

[earlgreylatte]

Hello, You

(Invincible Variants x Reader) Of course he would come to see you. You’re the reason he’s here, after all.

After hearing the news to stay inside as the attack of Invincible copycats decimated cities across the globe, you hid under your blanket, the light from your phone illuminating your face as you watched the broadcast for any sign of your Mark.

You could only hope that he was alright, that he wasn’t blaming himself, that he knew you were waiting for him to come back safe. He already has enough problems as is.

Your distress is momentarily tempered when you hear your window slide open and your floorboards creek. When you don’t hear Mark immediately greet you or tease you for being bundled up, any concern you felt for Mark becomes overshadowed by fear for yourself as you hear footsteps near your prone form.

You can only tremble, clutching your blanket close to your body until the room goes silent. You shakily exhale, becoming confused when another quiet beat passes. When your breath returns to normal, the blanket is ripped off of you, eliciting a scared yelp.

For a moment you only stare in confusion at the sight of your boyfriend’s estranged father before realizing it’s not Nolan Grayson that stands before you, but Mark clad in a costume similar to his father’s. His face is impassive, mouth a firm line, so unlike the expressive nature of your Mark.

He calls your name. Quietly, yet there was something heavy in his tone. Something you could almost delude yourself into thinking was longing.

His hand brushes against your cheek, moving down your face before resting on your shoulder, a finger pressed against your pulse.

“You sound healthy,” he comments, deceptively neutral in his delivery, but even behind his goggles, you could feel his gaze burning into your face, “In my world, you had cancer. By the time the Viltrumites reinforcements had arrived, it was too late. All that talk about life changing technology and medicine, but it ended up being utterly useless to me.”

Your breath hitches, but he continues, “But here there’s a me that rebelled and an you that never got sick. That got to live past high school. That’s just the way it goes, I suppose.”

His hand travels lower, brushing past your collarbone before resting on your breast, your heart hammering beneath his palm.

“Do you know why I came here?” He wonders, his free hand planting itself on your bed, as he moves his body to hover above yours until the only thing you can see is him.

“No,” you whisper, staring into black lenses.

“Because even after all these years, the only heart I wish to know, to hold, and to cherish is yours. I was willing to play human for you, to tolerate the presence of the idiots that breathed the same air as us, but then they all had the audacity to outlive you. And I can’t move on. So the selfish man that I am, I’m here to take you. To have you by my side again, no matter how much blood I have to spill,” He declares before pressing his lips against yours, muffling your gasp and cries, gripping your wrist when you try to shove at him.

He only pulls away when you start to feel lighthearted, looking down at you as you struggle to catch your breath.

“You can cry and protest all you want. You loved me once, you can do it again,” he asserts, bring your wrist to his mouth, leaving a kiss against your pulse point. “This world was doomed the moment your Mark decided to rebel. I won’t let you die because of his delusions.”

“…I’m not her,” you speak up. “I don’t know you, not really.”

“I know,” he responds, “but every inch of my body is crying out to you, and I’d rather kill everyone on this planet before I let you go again.”

He releases your wrist, instead sliding both hands under your shirt, gloved hands savouring the feel of your skin, your warmth seeping through the fabric.

“…you’re shaking,” he notes, throwing a glance at your discarded blanket on the ground, “I’m sorry, I’ll warm you up. I promise.”

“Mark,” you say, out of instinct more than anything else, your mind coming to a blank.

“Shh,” he hushes you, voice gentle but firm, “Let me take care of you. Like I always do.”

A part of you is relieved that he hasn’t taken off his cowl because you knew you’d crumble under the emotion that would undoubtedly be in his eyes. The same eyes that always held so much love and adoration towards you.

His lips press against yours again, more demanding and heated, as hands travel higher and higher until—

“Looks like I wasn’t the only one that thought to come here,” an amused but familiar voice drawls out, the Mark on top of you pulling away, body covering yours protectively.

Another Invincible sat at your window ledge, black and yellow costume starkly contrasting the rest of your room. He smiles at you when you peak around Mark’s arm.

“Honestly, you were acting so high and mighty earlier, but you’re pretty desperate, huh?” He mocks as the other Mark’s face becomes stonier. “But, really, you should fuck off somewhere else because that’s my girl you’re feeling up right now.”

Before he can respond, another voice interrupts him as you notice yet another Mark, floating behind the one at your window.

“Fucking seriously? How did you even get here before me? I bet you halfassed your locations,” The Mark with a mohawk that has you raising your eyebrow complains, “I literally called dibs on this one! Find someone else!”

Feeling the tension build up, you only hope that Mark checks in and saves you from the bullshit you’re witnessing as they begin to snarl and yap at each other like feral dogs.

Why me, you lament.

Shiesty Mark: hey, babe, it’s Big Dick Friday—why the fuck are you all here??

Why is there no Omni Mark content, he and that shiesty mark were my favourite…

I feel like omni mark is the definition of ‘quite literally hates everyone but you’

Masterlist

[pastelclovds]

invincible is dragging me back by the ankles

thinking about a human!reader who has lived a pretty decent, normal existence. at least, as normal as it could be with all the hero's trying to exterminate world ending threats daily, and leaving major cities in ruins afterwards. the death of the guardians made the threats worsen over time.

one day, as you were taking your usual midnight stroll, you were stopped by the one and only, omni-man. his only excuse? he said and i quote.

“human, it has come to my attention that you’re releasing strange, aphrodisiacal pheromones; and it has become a problem for me.”

you blink once, twice, thrice, and you’re eyes widened as you finished processing his sentence. you were releasing sexy pheromones?? where was it during your days in college? your vision on omni-man’s flushed face trails down to his pelvic region, where his ragging boner was making itself known beneath his suit.

cue to nolan dragging you to an empty alleyway, stripping you both butt naked, and riding you until you left his hole gaping and filled to the brim with your cum. he let out an uncharacteristic, longing moan as he painted your chest in white.

turns out he’s been wanting you for a while ever since he first caught whiff of your scent that one afternoon a week ago as he was defeating a kaiju.

as for the “aphrodisiacal pheromones” you seem to unknowingly release daily: it only seems to affect nobody else but nolan. you don’t have a problem with it though, as long as you continue to fuck the number one super “hero,” you don’t need anything else.

that’s until mark appears before you with an embarrassed grin and a hard on of his own. then his other variants appeared like beasts in heat, and now conquest. yeah, you’re a viltramite magnet.

[zeecriter]

Invincible p!links·˚ ༘ P2

WARNING ➤ Pornographic content mdni! The links all have afab/feminine bodies except maskless mark, do not open in public.

Sinister Mark

Fucking you into the sofa

He loves choking you

bought this skirt just for this

Can’t run away anymore

Main! Mark Grayson

Literally like rabbits (LOADS)

Sock on the door

Virgin! Best friend!Mark who wanted to try something with you

He WANTS you carrying his kid

Full mask Mark

Breeding you full with his babies

Stroking him

Short cunnilingus vid

Got him all tied up

Mohawk Mark

Do y’all see that bulge?? Definitely the way he’d fuck you

How he’d eat his princess out

Normal au!Mohawk mark after taking a drive in his car with you. Couldn’t wait till you got home huh?

His own fleshlight

Viltrumite mark

The eye contacttt

After a long day of viltrum work

Morning sexxx!!

His maid looked hotter today, especially in that skimpy dress you wore.

Maskless mark(MLM)

Riding him in your dorm

You two both got horny while hanging out

Bottom! Mark

Seeing stars

Omni-Mark

loves tasting you

You were a brat in this universe too he had to handle it!

He loves the feeling of your gushy walls clenching around his fingers

You were so desperate to cum :(

Rex Sloan

You play way too much video games

Devouring your pussy

˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ NOTE ➤ sorry guys I released this sooo late! The next part of the invincible p!links are going to be revolved around threesomes! If you guys want other p!links with different media I’ll be happy to do it. I want to do a jujutsu kaisen list but I want to see what y’all want first.

[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

[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 detail 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. Sickeningly in love. 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. Eighteen 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 buzzed in your skull—a low crackling hum that drowned out the edges of the memory before it fully formed. It was there—just beyond reach—shrouded in white noise.

The harder you focused, the more the static swelled, but for a moment, the interference cleared. A voice—the ghost of a feeling—and just as quickly, it was 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 lunged forward, grappling 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 growled, 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 earned a guttural grunt from the flesh of your breasts, as he heaved out a response. “You’ll forget about them anyway,” he dismissed as he continued until your panties were the last to be removed. The cool air dusted your wet cunt—its arousal seeping 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 allowing 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 taunted, pumping his tongue in and out of your tight cunt. His tongue—rough and textured—lashed out to lap at your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. His groans sent mild vibrations through you as his fingers reached up to paw at your tits, nipples stiffened in the cold air. You couldn't help but moan as he ate you out with relentless intensity, his tongue plunging deep into your folds. His calloused hands roamed your exposed flesh—pinching and kneading your breasts, twisting your sensitive nipples until they grew 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 neared 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 mistresses' 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 becoming 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 diluted into 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 crawling 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 asshole 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’d 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 rooted in a determination to outclass any obstacle that might 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 dimension’s Mark. Even if feigned for manipulation. He spun you around to face him, that polite smile etched into his face again as his body betrayed 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 toward 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—and 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 echoed through the room, mingling with the slap of skin against skin and Mark's grunts of pleasure. He hammered into you like a man possessed—his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he drove you toward climax.

The long thrusts stimulated every inch of his dick—the veins 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 could trust to blindly follow his power. His grin grew wolfish as his other hand overlapped your throat—his gaze shifting between your bouncing tits and pleasured face.

The slight closure of your windpipe didn’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 murmured, 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 said with an amused expression as he snickered 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 said, his feet touching base on the ground as he approached 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—was 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 said. 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 widened as he leaned down and captured your lips in a fierce, dominant kiss.

His tongue forced its way into your mouth, battling yours for dominance as he ground his hips against yours. You two stumbled around the enclosure—footsteps echoing in the empty building. Mark’s hands cupped your ass, squeezing roughly as he whispered crude compliments into your ear. "Nice ass," he growled 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 were peeled from one another, and you found 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 seated 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 filled you deliciously. The wet sound of arousal followed by his restrained groans filled you with delight; it was 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 groaned beneath you—his hands digging into his palms as he fought his urges to misbehave.

The sound of your ass slapping against his pelvis filled 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 redoubled his efforts—pounding into you with a ferocity that sent you hurtling over the edge.

The excitement overwhelmed him as he sheathed half his cock inside—the spreading warmth and moisture making his thighs quiver beneath you. His balls tightened, painfully so—that alone ripped a pornographic 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 felt your orgasm building quickly. The pleasure reached new heights as you both milked each other dry for the sake of proving a point. Your body instinctively began to lurch forward as your orgasm washed 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’d come down from your high, a satisfied grin beamed at you. "Dude, that was incredible," he murmured, 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 sounded exasperated as he hurriedly redressed—reluctantly wishing you a botched farewell. “I like you. You’re coming with me.”

Feel free to request more lmao

MasterList ོ༘₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚

[swightops]

"i can take him! oh, can you now? can you take on all of him?" cw: smut

You just always had to have the last say, didn't you? While some (most) people tell you that you should stop while you're ahead, something about your smartmouth always charmed Mark. And, well, it seems it wasn't just your Mark that liked your sass.

"Uugh!" you cry as your face is shoved into the mattress. Mohawk Mark behind you laughs at your pathetic cries before winding his arm up and slapping your ass. Another cry falls from your lips as Mohawk Mark shushes your cries and rubs his hand over the now-growing red hand mark on your cheek.

"I guess even in this world, you don't know when to shut up," Sinister Mark teases, his fingers brushing away the tears that fall from your eyes before licking them. "Even your tears are sweet, dolly," he giggles.

"How about we put that mouth to good use," Viltrumite Mark says, his hand grabbing your hair and lifting it up. Before you can say anything, your mouth is shoved open, and all you taste is Viltrumite Mark. Moan after moan falls from your lips as you try to suck, but your eyes quickly roll back as Mohawk Mark picks up his pace.

You're losing yourself. You're losing yourself in Mark, and there's nothing else but him—all these versions of him— and yourself. "Focus, dollyyyy," Sinister Mark giggles again, his hands playing with your boobs and pulling at your nipples.

And, oh, Mark feels so good. So undeniably good that before you can even process it, your clenching around Mohawk Mark and coming loudly, your moans reverberating on Viltrumite Mark’s cock, and he's coming in your mouth with a hiss.

The hand that was wrapped in your hair before makes its way to your throat, and you're forced to look up at Viltrumite Mark with teary eyes. "Swallow," is all he says, and without another thought, you are. And just like that, simply feeling you swallow his cum, he's already hard again.

"Alright, cucksuckers, move it," Sinister Mark growls, pushing Mohawk Mark over and slipping himself into you with no restraint. "Our girl's got a full house," he laughs, forcing you to look up and past Viltrumite Mark as you catch sight of Omni Mark, No Goggles Mark, and Full Mask Mark.

this kinda sucks :( ill do a redo sometime soon dw

[stareiiez]

Fully masked Invincible is the sweetest variant you've met. Sure, he's killed people, but everyone makes mistakes, and the way he says, ' I'm sorry for every little thing,' is a lot cuter in your books. A true textbook bottom cutie, but he argues he can top for real if given a chance.

he saves you from the civilian casualties that one of the other variants created. he bridal style carries you through the clouds and profusely apologizes when you're shaking in his arms from being too cold and being held so tight in his arms. he even apologizes for not even being your mark grayson, you're not his but he can't help but touch you like you really are his.

when the two of you are settled on the city's outskirts, and safe from the death and screams. he cups your face in his gloved hands, staring at you from his goggles. he's missed you. he's missed the two most important women in his life. he just needs to get his mom now and take all three of you home. his body is ragged and high-strung under the pads of your fingers, and he halfway chokes on a sob when you don't hold any malice in your pretty gaze when you look at him.

he's always been such a tender lover, sweet on the lips and heavenly in the bedroom; a true fallen angel that never chose a side on the day of reckoning in heaven.

the third time he apologizes is for the way he kisses you when he tugs the mask halfway over his nose and smashes your mouths together just because he can't stand the silence between you two. he tastes like desperation and yearning. Perhaps the tiniest bit of sin when his teeth latch on your bottom lip and suck it into his mouth so he can hear you sigh openly.

However, you don't mind. his sorries escalate from his half-chubbed boner rubbing against your hip to saying sorry for how you writhe and tense on soft patchy grass when his thick dick stretches you out in ways that feel like you're being torn in two. He isn't sorry for cumming too quickly, because he makes up for it in his pussy eating skills later on.

[tokoyamisstuff]

Random thought how good do you think each invincible variant would be at eating 😺 is there any of them who would be an actual munch

18+ explicit content

Sis, don't- it's not worth it...

Other variants under the cut!

Omnivincible is more skilled than most of them. I just feel like he's got a mature approach and wouldn't just mindlessly delve in like some horny teenager.

He'd take his sweet time, enjoying himself without necessarily wanting something in return. In general he takes great pride in causing you pleasure. Is also pretty creative. After all his strenght allows him to eat you out in positions you didn't even know were possible.

Thought you can only come once at a time? He'll prove you otherwise.

Movincihawk constantly brags about his 'superior technique' but at the bottom line he's not all that good at it, sorry.

It's not like he isn't skilled, but he's pretty selfish and impatient. Any kind of foreplay is not a priority for him in general, he likes to go straight to the point.

Fucks pretty well to make up for it though.

Sinister Mark acts like he's doing you a favor, but with how eager he buries himself between your legs it's evident to say he enjoys this as much - if not even more than - you.

This man pins your thighs apart and eats you out like a man starving. Your taste drives him fucking crazy, so yes it could happen that he bites down harder than he intended to.

Likes to eat you out on your period. No I will not elaborate.

Striped/Target Invincible is super vocal during the whole thing. His grunts and groans vibrate against your folds, he doesn't even notice the effect you have on him.

Hope you're ready for the whole range of dirty talk, mostly degrading but occasionally throwing in words of acknowledgement. Tells you how this is your place - beneath him, completely at his mercy.

Uses his fingers better than his tongue, but is fairly good at both. The combination will send you straight to heaven.

No Goggles Invincible is probably the biggest tease on the entire planet.

This man will push you to your absolute limits, reducing you to a whining, moaning, begging puddle of lust. But he's got no mercy, prolonging your sweet torture for as long as he can - you're only allowed to cum if he says you're done.

With him the thin line between pain and pleasure is blurred into a mixture of pure overstimulation, but goddamn it's worth it.

Viltrumite Mark isn't familiar with earth's customs of intimacy. In their culture, canonically, they solely have sex for procreation. Though we never saw Debbie complaining about Nolan either, so I'm confident he can learn.

Gets the hang of it pretty fast, and quickly grows insateable with this new form of closeness he never got to experience before. He's an absolute mess, almost breaking the bedframe as he pathetically humps the mattress, wanting more more more of you.

Needs lots of cuddles and to be told he did a good job afterwards, pretty please.

Prisoner Mark was in solitary confinement for over a year - prepare to be destroyed. R.I.P.

He'll dive in between your legs and won't leave this place until he's got his fill of you, which could take him a while so get cozy.

Not an inch of your body is left untouched, as if he intents to memorize every detail, just in case you'd slip from his grasp once again.

Be prepared to cum until your body gives up. Man's got to make up for the time he spent away from you.

Unmasked Mark is very gentle, almost cautious in his efforts as if you were a fragile flower one needed to properly care for or it'd wither. He still can't fully believe you're here with him, so he's extra anxious about doing something wrong.

You'll slowly and sensually be guided towards your orgasm, his eyes never leaving yours as he reverently observes your every reaction.

Expect some premium aftercare!

Fully Masked Invincible knows you inside and out, has memorized all the weak spots that make you sing for him. He is completely and utterly devoted to your pleasure, maybe even a little too eager in his efforts since he tends to forget himself in the process.

To him your body is a temple meant for worship, so you'd relentlessly get showered in praise and compliments while he explores your body.

Will initiate at every given opportunity, but never pushes it. He just wants to make you happy, really!

[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 ★

[invoncible]

I’d love to see Invincible!variants meeting OG reader with powers/super strong because in their world, their reader is normal. I’d like to see their reaction when they’re expecting someone weak and then they suddenly fly off or get decked in the face!

INVINCIBLE VARIANTS & reader who can put them in their place ✧˚. ft. nogoggles!mark, mohawk!mark, viltrumite!mark, the surviving 8 cw. canon typical violence

— this is so funny ily nonnie but uhh rereading this i feel like i lost the plot, hope u enjoy nonetheless lol <3 ! — reader is with MAIN!mark & has scarlet witch type powers

when multiple versions of your boyfriend were zipping around the planet causing indescribable amounts of destruction, you were a little confused. all of these guys... were mark? what mark could've been if things went a little different?

you held back a little when fighting them because they had the face of the boy you loved so much, but after seeing them in action... they had to go.

you were flying beside your mark, the only good one apparently, when cecil barked in your ear.

"y/n, i need you." your comm buzzed to life with cecil's instructions.

"kinda busy, cecil." you muttered under your breath.

"please, i know you're done with me. i know both of you are. but don't turn your back on the people who're in danger."

"what does he want?" your mark snapped, the distaste evident on his face.

"help." you answered him with a sigh, your moral compass guilting you into seeing where you were needed. you promised mark you'd be back soon.

"just tell me where the problem is." you shot back at cecil.

NOGOGGLES!MARK

"i need you at guardians' HQ."

you narrowed your eyes in concern. "the guardians are down?"

"it's a batshit crazy version of mark, what do you think?"

you rolled your eyes and rerouted your flight path to guardians' base. within minutes you warped right in the middle of the action.

"what the fuck..." you whispered in horror. kate and her duplicates were out, shapesmith was ripped in half—immortal was the only one still going and even he was struggling.

"nice, they sent someone else!" mark stopped immortal's punch nonchalantly with one hand, grinning down at you from where he hovered in the air. he squinted then gasped, throwing immortal to the ground.

"y/n? why would they send you?" he floated down to you, approaching you like a wild animal.

"you know me?" you stalled, eyes darting around your periphery to make sure that the others were at least alive.

"do i know you?" he laughed, figuring that was a good enough answer to your question. he circled around you with an approving hum. "aww, you playing dress up? i like this color on you—"

activating your power, your tendrils of chaos magic snaked around his body, picking him up and throwing him across the room. you flew to where he landed, lifting the debris of his prior battle telekinetically and sending the slabs of concrete crashing into his body.

your feet touched down on the ground as you walked calmly towards his fallen body squirming under the projectiles. he shot up and out of the pile of rocks with a feral grin on his face.

"holy shit. you're nothing like my y/n." he set his fists and accelerated towards you.

you stopped him with the raise of your hand. his punch stuttered in time and space as he tried his hardest to push past your power and land a good one. you ducked under him, yanking at his ankle and slamming him to the ground so hard he bounced.

"yes," he chuckled lowly, wiping the blood dripping on his chin. "yes. can i take you home with me?"

"no."

"i'll fight you for it," he stood up, rolling his neck. you cringed when you heard the cacophony of cracks that followed. "wanna fight me for it?"

"s'not gonna be much of a fight." you smiled, shifting your weight before taking off again, gaining altitude and using your power as a jet engine to collide your leg with his face.

to your shock and horror, he just stood there and took it with a smile, his body skipping across the floor like a rock over a lake .

"oh..." he grinned, sliding to a stop and licking the blood off his teeth. "oh. i love you."

you blinked in confusion, tilting your head. your body warmed as you channeled your power again, a ball of energy accumulating over your palm. "i'm... going to kill you."

"i know!" he laughed, punching his fist into his palm as he got hyped up again. "that's the best part."

"you're actually enjoying this." you meant it as a question, but there was no room for debate. this mark was 100% delighted by the fact you were trying to kill him.

mark swayed on his feet, blood dribbling from his split lip. his breathing was uneven—you couldn't tell if it was from exertion or excitement—and of course that fucking grin was still there.

"you’re so fun," he groaned, licking his teeth. "i love my y/n, but i bet they could learned a thing or two from you—"

you didn’t let him finish. with a flick of your wrist, your energy surged forward, wrapping around his throat. his words choked off into a strangled gasp as you lifted him into the air.

"i'm not them," you said, voice steady even as you watched him gasp for air.

then, with a sharp twist—you snapped his neck. his body dropped to the floor, limp. you stared for a second, waiting for any signs of movement. nothing. finally, you let out a breath and turned away.

"ugh..."

you froze and spun around. his voice was wet, choked with laughter.

"you're not making it easy to stay away from you."

MOHAWK!MARK

"the penitentiary. prison's getting ransacked."

you were at the scene within the minute, zapping into existence just to see mark with a fuckass mohawk fighting off some heroes tasked with taking him in. they were unsuccessful of course, as when you arrived they were in piles of limbs and blood on the concrete.

his eyes flickered to you, widening in recognition. "y/n..?"

you raised your eyebrow. guess he knew you, or a version of you in his world. it didn't matter to you.

he lit up and tossed a severed hand to the side. "oh, hey!" he walked towards you. "what're you doing here, babe? i know you love when i go crazy but this is a biiiiit dangerous—"

you restricted his movement, pulling him towards you with your magic. you squeezed and squeezed until you heard his breath hitch. "i'm not your y/n."

"yeah, i can see that." he crooned, feigning an impressed tone. "you got a little power now? if you wanted me close, you don't have to be rough. just ask. i'm happy with any version of you." he failed to hide his little grunt, squirming in your hold.

if your grimace was any indication of your sentiment, he didn't take it to heart. he took it as motivation. he broke through your magic, pummeling through the air towards you. unfazed, you slapped him off course with a bolt of magic. he crashed into the wall with a groan.

mark stood up, the dust and rocks falling off his back. "my y/n was a sweetheart."

"i can be sweet," you mumbled more to yourself, brows furrowing as you strategized how to finish him off quickly.

"just not for me, though." mark grinned. "i see how it is. is it the hair?"

"kinda." your eyes flickered up to his hair and you couldn't stop the little smile on your face. all you could think about was your mark with that style. it worked on him, not that you'd admit it.

you picked him up and slammed him down, picked him up and slammed him down again, over and over until he was hanging limp in the air.

satisfied, you synthesized restraints from imagination and fastened them over him. you barely climbed out of the sunken crater you carved with his body when he coughed up blood, eyes fluttering.

you pressed a finger to your ear. "cecil, send someone else to bring this guy in. i've got to get back."

"you just gonna throw me around and leave?" he scoffed, words slurring together from the beating.

"someone's gonna take you in, and you're gonna tell us everything about how you got here." you sigh and barely spare him a glance over your shoulder.

"i won't talk." he sang teasingly.

"you will."

"i'll do it maybe if you come a little closer." he egged you on, a stupid little smirk on his face. "got something real special to say to you."

"shut up."

he groaned petulantly and started to push against your magical binds.

"stay." you narrowed your eyes.

his eyes darted up to yours, staring for a moment before huffing a short laugh. he leaned back against the caved-in pavement, man-spreading and getting comfy against the slope. "yes, ma'am."

VILTRUMITE!MARK

"he's off fighting spawn. the poor guy's probably already dead."

"got it."

"watch out for this one, y/n, he's..." cecil sucked in a breath. "i dunno. full viltrumite indoctrination?"

"i can handle him." you reassured him before phasing over to the variant's location.

you watched as he ripped the hero apart, flying him into the highway below for good measure. you soared down behind him, saving all the cars that were launched from the road and setting them down at a safe distance.

mark watched as the cars were gently rescued. he turned around like he had all the time in the world and looked pained upon seeing you.

"please no." he sighed softly. "they shouldn't have sent you."

"why not?" you humored him, stepping gracefully over the rubble.

"i won't stop all this. not even for you, my love."

"i'm not your y/n..." you pursed your lips, getting a faint sense of deja vu. you felt like you said this a few times already.

"don't worry, it'll be over soon. why don't you wait all this out—"

you teleport before he can finish, reappearing behind him mid-air. a surge of energy coils around your hands as you slam a concussive blast into his back. he stumbles forward, muscles tensing from the impact.

he spun around in a flash, hand gripping your throat as he shoves you back-first into the nearest building. the collision sent shockwaves rippling through the complex, glass shattering, debris crumbling to the ground.

"cute tricks." he breathed against your ear. "this is new. but don't make me fight you."

you stabbed your fingers into his pressure points, channeling your power through his nerves. his grip faltered for a fraction of a second, enough time for you to flip, plant your feet on his chest, and kick him off you.

mark spiraled back, barely catching himself mid-air. he wipes the blood from his lip from being effectively electrocuted, chest rising and falling.

"join me," he whispered, watching you in awe. "join me. we can rule the universe together."

"the fact that you think you can ask that and get a good answer proves that you don't know me at all."

"i do."

"you don't."

"we could have everything." he floats towards you. "power. control. be reasonable, won't you?"

you phase behind him again, placing one hand on his back and charging up your energy. he tries to turn around, but you're a second faster, releasing the pent-up force directly into him. mark grimaces in pain as the blast sends him spiraling into the air, flipping and tumbling before crashing into the ground below with a deafening thud.

you crashed onto the ground, unwilling to let him have another opportunity to get up. he saves you the trouble and holds a hand up in surrender.

"i won't fight you." he says simply.

you shake your head incredulously. "it's not a choice."

"i'll come find you when this is all over." he dismissed you easily, walking off your attacks.

"what—?"

he took off at supersonic speed, leaving you in the dust.

THE SURVIVORS

"they're all hovering over mark's house."

"what?! is—"

"debbie and oliver are fine. they're safe elsewhere." cecil cut you off.

you groaned and teleported over to mark's house. unfortunately, they were in your usual spot, hovering over the roof. you hung there in the air for a split second before they all pounced on you.

"we can't all have a y/n, can we?" full mask mark exclaimed, being the first to grab you and spin away from the group with you hidden safely behind him. "i'm taking them and mom back with me."

"you lost mom and y/n?" omnimark shook his head, like a father disappointed in a child. "how can you be trusted with this one?"

you narrowed your eyes. "i'm literally right here—"

"shut the fuck up." prison mark snapped at full mask mark, pushing past omnimark and jabbed a finger at the soft one of the bunch. "i'm tired of your bitching and whining. keep mom, i guess, i don't fuckin' care. but give 'em back."

"i hate you guys." sighed omnimark.

"who said you were getting them?" unmasked mark scoffed and crossed his arms.

"no one's getting me." you broke up the fight, momentarily forgetting that they were all mass murderers just cuz they had your pretty boyfriend's face.

"yeah, cuz you'd rather settle for that stupid fucking mark from this world."

"why'd you say his name like it's a slur?" you deadpanned. "aren't you all technically mark?"

"we're getting off topic." omnimark held out a hand to calm the congregation. "for what it's worth, i have my y/n safe and sound back home—"

"oh for fuck's sake."

© invoncible

[earlgreylatte]

Variant Madness

You thought he was your Mark.

Omni Mark and Shiesty Mark 2V1 you.

Breathing in, you savour the fresh air of the mountain trail you find yourself on. You had visited years ago, but you decided to come again to enjoy the scenery. Maybe you could find a cool rock for Mark and Oliver, too.

You hope things are peaceful for them too, but even if there is another threat that needs to be taken care of, you’re sure Mark would be able to come find you easily enough.

You feel a bit pathetic that you already miss him, even though you’re going to see him in a couple of hours. You suddenly find yourself understanding Debbie’s usual amusement when she watched you two. You really acted like a lovesick puppy, sometimes.

Feeling your phone buzz from your pocket, you fumble for a second as you’re broken from your thoughts, rooting through your jacket to find it. Just as your fingers begin to pull it out a sudden rush of air hits you from behind, your jacket’s hood suddenly pushed over your head as you drop your phone onto the soil as dirt is kicked up into the air.

You whip around, to find…Mark? He was still wearing his black and blue suit, but his entire head was now covered, making him look a little intimidating, with his mouth and hair covered.

He stares at you wordlessly.

“Were you in that much of a rush to show me your new costume? I mean, you just got a new one from Art just a couple of months ago,” you speak up, rubbing the dirt out of your eyes, “Honestly, you could have caused a dirt storm or something…”

He breathes out your name.

You tilt your head, “Is something wrong? Did something happen? Are Debbie and Oliver okay—!?”

Your worrying is cut off when within an instant he has you crushed to his chest, arms locked around you as he buried his head against your neck.

“I just really missed you,” he whispers.

Looks like he’s a lovesick puppy, too.

You can’t hold back a dopey smile, “I missed you too.”

You jolt in his arms when you realize your phone is still vibrating; a redial, so possibly urgent.

“Mark, my phone—“

You’re interrupted again when he pivots you so your back hits a nearby tree, his mask rolled up enough to reveal his mouth which soon presses against yours.

Anything you wanted to say is forgotten as you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer. He groans into your mouth as his hands plant themselves to your waist as he places a knee in between your legs.

He moves from your lips to your neck, pressing adoring kisses against your pulse point before helping you shrug off your jacket, letting it to the ground as his hands slide under your shirt, gloved fingers brushing against your ribcage.

“Mark,” you breathe, heart swelling at the sweet intimacy he was more than willing to give you.

Your attention is broken again when you notice your phone is still ringing, your gaze sliding from the man nestled against you to the forest floor where your phone laid.

Your body stiffens.

The caller ID illuminating your phone was one you could recognize even from afar just from the amount of heart emojis you set for…your boyfriend.

The boyfriend that was currently with you.

Whose grip on you begins to tighten as your heart starts to hammer in your chest.

You shakily bring up your hands to hook your fingers beneath his mask, slowly pulling it up as he remains as still as a statue. The face is familiar, if not a little more worn, but the brown eyes you held so dear were now filled with a sadness deep enough to drown you.

This wasn’t your Mark.

Mark was definitely lucky he was attractive, you decide.

If he wasn’t, you definitely wouldn’t have tolerated the sheer annoyance his two variants were causing you.

“Were you a virgin or something until now? Because you fuck like a noob,” A Mark with a wild rag mask laughed as the one that was dressed like Omni Man 2.0 pounded into you, your back pressed against an alleyway wall, the area long deserted from the destruction the two men unleashed on the city.

“I doubt you even know what you’re talking about, with how you talk like a preteen boy,” The red and white Mark huffs, tone passive enough that you’d think he didn’t care about his copy’s words if not for his pace speeding up and his thrusts going deeper and deeper until your voice reaches a new octave.

The other Mark scoffs, “Well, not that she minds, already looks cockdrunk off your tiny dick. Hey, sweetheart, bet I can take you to heaven and back with one stroke.”

“I will kill you.” The Mark fucking into you, tightens his grip, turning to death stare the now laughing Invincible.

“Aww, is daddy mad? Scared she’s going to want to run away with me once I slip my dick in her?”

You can’t believe you have to orgasm while listening to their dumbass argument…

“Hey, if you’re going to hog her pussy, at least move her so I can put that mouth to use—“

Annoying people really shouldn’t be so hot.

The invincible tag is so good rn, I’m actually in tears…

Decided to do a 2in1 special because people really want me to make a part two of that other variant post…it will come…

Masterlist

[bonsubear]

You're Dead Everywhere But Here │ Invincible Variants x Female! Reader x Mainstream Invincible │#2

#1, #2, #3

tysm for the comments on the previous post, it was a blast seeing the traction it got !! I hope update is satisfactory, decided to make this a full fic series so more to come

CW: OOC Cecil(?), mention/talks of suicide, violence, slight freakiness but eh not really

WC: 6,7k

@weaponxgames, @martinys-world, @lagataprrr, @lizurich, @katsukiswiife, @oxymorondemon, @sweetb3rry, @ashleeytrx, @pixviee, @pookiei-bookie, @cheesycheddarr

Cecil approached the big screens, his hands in his suit pockets as he narrowed his eyes. "Donald, what is this? What going on with now?" He asked, his voice stern but confused. The dots on the map indicate that multiple Invincible variants were gathered at one place—and you were smacked in the middle of it.

He had given orders to throw you out there in hopes to help the war effort, strapping you with an electric dog collar with a tracker embedded into it. With Evil Invincibles causing havoc all over the world, everything was getting stretched thin. He needed more manpower to pour into this war, and he wasn't against using a criminal to achieve that.

Cecil had seen multiple times you hold your own against their Invincible, hell, even had the upper hand a couple of times with how you left Invincible riddled with injuries.

Whatever reason why you chose to injure him than kill him wasn't something Cecil was going to do gymnastics to understand. Donald's running theory was that you more so enjoyed causing destruction than killing anyone. There's been times where you have, but they were so rare it's been assumed to be more of a 'last resort' thing for you when cornered.

Honestly, all of that didn't matter to him, you were still a destructive piece of shit at the end of the day.

But having collected data about you, he was confident that you could at least remove one or two of the evil variants when push came to shove. The 'shove' being a shock collar and the threat of never seeing daylight again.

Though it appears you were surrounded by four variants, and while you were one tough cookie, you should certainly be dead. There was one of you and four of them, it was a no brainer to guess who would lose. However, the blinking green dot on the screen indicated you were alive and well.

"It seems like they're not fighting her. She's been more of the aggressor so far, actually." Donald noted, pushing his glasses up. "She was fighting this one," He pointed at a red dot on the screen, "then these three showed up." His finger drifted to the other circles.

"Pull up the cameras around there." Cecil ordered, and Donald's fingers were quick on the keyboard to pull up the surveillance around the area.

A window appeared on the screen, and while the lens was cracked it was clear to see that you were surprisingly not beaten up and battered as he would expect. He watched you leap into the air, bolting through the sky and an Invincible dressed in a white uniform followed suit, the two of you becoming a blur in the distance.

An Invincible dressed in a similar fashion as Omni-man crossed his arms, speaking to the others. Whatever he said made the others upset, the one with a fully covered black mask shaking his head while the variant with the mohawk rolled his eyes as he stomped his foot.

"Is there no audio on this thing?"

"Nope."

"Great." Cecil popped his lips, his grainy voice filled with sarcasm. He continued to observe the three variants—they obviously didn't like each other, their body language tense and ready to pounce if one of them moved yet held the conversation anyway.

He squinted, trying to decipher what they could be discussing about. The men would occasionally glance over at the direction you had sped off to.

Donald spoke up. "I think they're discussing (Y/N)."

"(Y/N)?"

"(Y/N) (L/N) is Vandal's real name." Donald mentioned, looking over at Cecil. Vandal had become your nickname since you never proclaimed a villain identity for yourself. From the heaps of destruction and damage you caused to property before your capture, it was a fitting name. Albeit a little lazy.

He let out a sigh, turning around to step away. His mind was turning gears as he thought about you, his mind drifting to Mark who was still by Eve's bed side.

What he was thinking of was an... odd idea, but it couldn't hurt to give it a shot. Mark Grayson always held this odd air towards you. It was hard to not notice how he practically jumped at the chance to be the first to respond to a scene that had something to do with you, always butting heads with other superheroes that tried to respond first.

The weird behavior was subtle, but Cecil noted a few things.

Whatever harm that he'd inflicted would conveniently be places where it wouldn't hurt too badly.

You would always somehow end up escaping from his grasp after each fight. Even with how Mark had improved, you always seemed to run off.

When you were finally captured thanks to a G.D.A agent, Mark threw quite a fit.

"I had it all under control!" He yelled, glaring at Cecil with so much anger. Possessiveness seeped into his voice as he spat his words, and Cecil was taken aback with how worked up he was over you. "You guys didn't have to step in like that."

"Talking to her, throwing a couple of punches and letting her escape each time is not you having it 'under control,' Mark." Cecil rebutted. "She needed to be contained, and you were doing a lousy job at doing that."

"I was gonna—"

"If I had let this ridiculous method of yours play out, she would've continued to destroy more property. That means more tax dollars are being poured into rebuilding the constant messes she leaves behind." Cecil lectured, stern and logical. Not giving him a moment to defend himself. "That money is better off spent on better things, not Little Miss Vandalism."

His logic and common sense only seemed to fuel Mark's anger. Cecil paused, before releasing an exhausted sigh as he flickered his gaze away from Mark to stare at a wall.

He needed to calm him down, having him upset would get in the way of calling him for help. Cecil's eyes flickered back to Mark.

"Kid, she'll be in jail at the G.D.A. Fed, clothed, and away from being a menace." He continued, and he noticed how Mark seemed to become calm about you being fed and clothed than the fact your destructive habits would now come to a halt. "You can... even visit her."

"... I can?"

He was a little too happy to hear that, his anger completely evaporated.

"Yeah. After we deal with everything first, I'll authorize how many visits you want."

"I'm going to pay a visit to Mark. I'm sure he'd love to hear what his favorite villain is up to." Cecil turned his head to Donald who only stared, clear he didn't understand what telling Mark about this would achieve.

Without elaborating, he teleported with a flash of blue.

You took another glance behind you, the wind rushing past you. It howled in your ear as you met the intense stare of the evil variant in white. His features were unmoving as the wind pushed his hair and his eyes hard.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer!" You shouted. His eyes were unblinking as he was unresponsive to your words, and you just rolled your eyes as you tore your eyes off him.

Even though you would love to continue being in the air for longer, if you do it was evident he would catch up to you. With each glance he was inching closer and closer, and there were a number of things that would go against your favor if this White Invincible got ahold of you in the air.

You scanned up ahead, seeing a large building. The path you were on currently would've made you slam your head against a solid wall. Shifting to the right, you brought your arms to your head as you braced for impact.

The glass window immediately shattered as you rammed through it, different sizes of glass shards falling. You dodged the walls of the office floor, breaking through windows and passing by cubicles.

Breaking out of the other side of the building, the sunlight basked on you as you pushed yourself to be above the building. Not a minute later, the building vibrated widely as the sound of walls breaking filled the air.

You let out an amused scoff. He continued the flight path you were previously on and busted through the walls.

The white variant broke through the final wall, leaving a gaping hole on the side of the building. He looked to the left and right of him, searching for a sign in which direction you went.

"Up here!" You sang out, diving down with your hands raised together and joined together to make a ball. You brought it down, sending him flying downwards to the road. The Invincible's reflex was incredible, his arms quickly rising to protect his head before being slammed to the ground.

The harsh impact made a big crater on the ground, with him in the middle. The abandoned cars near the crash site began blaring, the headlights flashing crazy.

"You're strong." He flatly commented, his eyes gazing up at you as the dust settled. With Mohawk, his laugh lines were prominent and bold. Yet with this variant, his face was completely smooth with no form of wrinkles in sight.

His arms tingled from your attack, and he tilted his head. A corner of his lip raised slightly. "You were never strong in my dimension."

"Does that burst your bubble, Whitey?" You fake whined, copying the tilt of his head as you stared down at him. "Disappointed I'm not a damsel in distress? Not the perfect little girlfriend for you?"

"I'm not disappointed." He shook his head. "You were always perfect, (Y/N). Perfect for me and I made Viltrum perfect for you. You're still perfect, no matter the differences across universes." He replied, hovering towards you. There was a deep-rooted longing in his eyes.

You gritted your teeth as you heard his monologue. You hated how he was speaking to you as if you were the version he knew personally. It was already becoming insufferable.

"I've missed you, my wife. The spot I carved out for you remains empty since the day I lost you." He whispered, looking like a battered dog lost without its owner. "You miss me too."

"Is that a question or a command?" You rolled your eyes. "I'm not her. Do you hear yourself?"

"You are her."

"I'm not. And I'm going to put that through that thick skull of yours." You didn't hesitate to dash towards him, your hand grabbing a hold of the top of his head as you slammed it down—the back of his head hitting the cracked concrete of the crater.

You dug your nails inside his scalp, lifting it and smashing it back down repeatedly. The hole inside the ground deepened as you continued.

Viltrumite Mark let his head be slammed against the pavement, your fingernails digging inside his scalp. The dulling pain at the back of his head ached at him, but he didn’t care. How long has it been since he last felt your touch? How long has it been since you committed suicide? How many long nights did he go without you?

It’s been so long since he felt your fingers through his hair. The throbbing pain didn’t mean anything with the sensation of your hand holding him. It was always blissful when he would come back to you after having to deal with the responsibilities of the Viltrum Empire, welcoming him home with open arms.

Oh, how he loved laying his head on your stomach while you massaged his head—running your delicate fingers through his hair as you asked all sorts of questions. Usually about what he did, Viltrum, and what was happening outside the walls of the home you two shared. Mark didn’t like to think about the outside world when he was inside the haven of the bedroom, but indulging in your curiosity was always cute and made you happy.

You were also eager, albeit more than he liked, to learn any updates about Earth. Even if it was something minor, you always liked hearing about the planet you once lived on. Sometimes you'd ask if you could "finally go out" and be somewhere else on Viltrum beside the house, even hinting the idea to go visit Earth—but Mark always shot it down.

He guessed he understood in some capacity why you would ask that, it was natural for any species to think about home and long to go back to it. Though, that doesn't mean Mark didn't find it ridiculous—you shouldn't want to go back to Earth even for a visit. Viltrum is your home now and a much better suited place for you because he was here.

Mark would've granted permission for you to walk around Viltrum alone, but when you had first arrived at this planet you had such antsy feet. You would go run off, trying to escape from the planet and it was always a hassle to bring you back. You could've gotten into danger and if he hadn't been alerted each time you ran off and arrived at the nick of time. You could've hurt yourself.

You cried, you begged, and you pleaded whenever you were caught. It hurt to see you like that, he couldn't bare for those situations to happen anymore so he had momentarily removed those privileges.

He was going to give them back, he swore he would've at one point. However, he hadn't noticed so much time had passed.

For him, it seemed so short—while for you it had been excruciating years. You couldn't take it anymore; Mark's monopolization was suffocating.

So, one day when Mark arrived back home after a mission, your lifeless boy awaited him. Pale, empty, and unresponsive—but free.

For what happened, Viltrum Mark will let you hurt him as punishment for being such a neglectful husband. Being pummeled was what he deserved for being forgetful.

You go of your hold of the white variant's head, snatching a hold of his arm and standing up. You lifted him off the ground only using the arm you had just grabbed, throwing him at the loud line of cars. During the process you had twisted his arm, causing him to wince as he felt his bone dislocate before he collided with the line of blaring vehicles.

The obnoxious honks stopped, and you huffed as you straightened your back. You sneered in disgust as you realized a small smear of blood that made its way to your fingertips, being quick to wipe it on your clothes.

However, in the blink of an eye, a white flash appeared before you. Arms wrapped around your torso, and you were shoved into a wall.

As soon as your back hit the wall, you grunted, the wind being knocked out of you. You felt the Invincible nestle his face to your stomach, his arms tightening around you and you shrieked.

Even though there was a clothing barrier between your bare skin and his face thanks to the prison uniform the G.D.A had you worn, it was thin. This act was clearly intimate, and you flushed in anger as he was taking an opportunity to feel you?

“Get off of me you bastard!” You demanded, using your elbow to dig inside his back, striking down rapidly.

His grip loosened with each hit but would recover, returned to holding you. With how hard you were hitting, it was a guarantee there would be multiple splotches of bruises stretched along his back, the muscles soon to have developing colors of purple.

You repositioned your elbow that was nearest to his twisted shoulder, slamming it. A grunt howled from the variant’s throat, his arms untangling from your waist. He fell to the ground, on his knees as he hurriedly grabbed his shoulder—popping the dislocated shoulder back in place.

He picked himself up, swiping at your shin. Caught off guard, you wobbled and the viltrumite didn't waste time to place your leg on his shoulder—the one that he had corrected the displacement of the bone—and leaned forward to you.

Being off balanced and your leg being pushed up with your back against the cracked wall, you slid down. His height towered over you as you were in a compromising position. You cursed, your hands reaching behind you to grip the wall.

"That was enough to atone for my neglectful mind. Your death alone already served as punishment for how blind I was towards time." He spoke, staring down at you. A small line of blood traveled from his scalp to the back of his neck. "I'll be a much better husband for you, I swear to it, (Y/N)." the Invincible breathed out, turning his head to your leg that was lifted to his shoulder.

Even though his voice was monotonous, there was a scratch of pleading behind his voice. He said it in hopes you'll believe it and in turn that he himself would believe he'll actually be better towards you.

It wasn't hard to piece together that whatever happened to his version of you, you had died, and he played a role in it.

He exhaled; his lips parted slightly as they were just centimeters away from your leg.

“You can’t be a better one if she’s dead.”

“Don’t say that.” He snapped, pushing your leg further up, making you suck in a breath. “You’re right here. Even if you don’t remember me that doesn't mean you can't be my wife once again.“ The grip he had on your raised leg was firm, and his hand snaked up to your knee.

His hand squeezed, feeling the muscles and bone. "I'll take you back home. Back to Viltrum. Back with me."

Your breath hitched, the mention of being taken to another place caused goosebumps to crawl all over your skin. The fully masked Invincible had mentioned something about bringing you 'home’ as well, and now this one mentioned taking you somewhere else too.

Something nagged at you that this would be a pattern among the other copies—and your survival instincts screamed at you to not let any of them take you. You were better off dead than with any of them.

"I will rather die like her than ever go anywhere with you." You spat; venom laced with each word. "Whatever way she went was probably a blessing in disguise." You smirked, watching how his eyes dulled at your taunt.

Clenching your jaw, you wheeled your head forward and then slammed it behind you. The building shook behind you, cracks branching out from the point of origin. You used the back of your head to hit it once more, pooling all your strength together.

The thick wall crumbled, and no longer being shoved against a wall you wrapped the leg that was on his shoulder around his neck and your other leg around his torso, seizing his whole body and throwing him over you.

The viltrumite burst through the multitude of walls, making the building unstable. Sounds of the building cracking and falling apart filled the air, the structure collapsing. You scrambled to run, the building collapsing in your direction. Though your foot slipped on a piece of debris, causing you to trip onto the ground.

Whoosh!

The office building collapsed, and you blinked. You were looking down at the collapsed structure that once stood tall now closer to the ground than ever.

Your legs dangled in the air, and your eyes traveled to your chest as there was an arm was slung underneath your breasts—holding you loosely.

"Ha! Now that was a funny sight to watch. You really got some sweet upgrades to you—fun." He commented, pointing out the superhuman strength you possessed, a dangerous edge embedded with his words. You whipped your head around, an Invincible with a black and yellow suit grinned wildly at you.

Sinister Mark looked deeply in your eyes as he used his exceptional hearing to focus on your heart. He had memorized the way your heartbeat, pumping blood through your system. It was a window for him to decipher how you really felt at any given moment, and listening to the beating organ was like music to his ears.

He hated how he missed it. He hated how he immediately recognized it from a miles away. He hated how his ears subconsciously trained itself to zone in on that beautiful beating heart of yours, your heart so distinct that it was a melody that drew him out.

He hated that he came as quickly as he can at the first beat, knowing that it was you. This dimension's version of you, anyway.

"Another one?" You snarled, not happy to see another variant.

This dimension's version of you was feisty, just like his—though more powerful considering you did some damage to Viltrum Mark having watched from afar. Though he didn't pay much attention to that guy, more swooped up on the fact he was on cloud nine with how he was able to hold you like this again.

He let out a deranged laugh, throwing his head back. "Ha! Ha-ha! I forgot how much better you felt with your flesh still intact." He laughed, rearing his head back to shove his face to your cheek. "Soft, squishy—so much more different compared to your skeleton."

... Skeleton?

"Jesus, I went insane after I killed you." He took a large exhale, the memories of the temper tantrum he made after accidentally going too rough on you, breaking you, resurfacing.

Everyone and everything weren’t safe from his rampage, the rampage fueled with the rage of killing you. "I kept your body, watched the stages of your corpse bloat then decay—leaving the dry remains of your skeleton behind." He spoke of it with a smile on his face, but you felt the hand that was wrapped around you flinch, tightening.

"It wasn't as fun when you were alive, but it was still you, so I made do." He vaguely referenced, and your skin crawled at what he could possibly be implying. All sort of things popped in your head, and whatever you brain conjured may have been tamer than whatever this... thing did to his alternate version of you—dead or alive.

"I don’t have to know more to know you're a sick fuck."

"And I made you like it." He hissed, his hot breath hitting your skin. He tilted his head away, his eyes wandering to the electric collar around your neck. Cecil throwing you in this war and forcing you to work for him meant you were tough, and Mark was excited to see how exactly tough you were. "And I can do it again. Just this time, you won't be so easy to break.”

Cecil sighed as his eyes fell upon Mark Grayson still near Eve's bedside, having not moved an inch since the last time he saw him. Both of his hands were cupped onto Eve's hand that lay motionless on the bed.

"What do you want, Cecil?" His tired voice called out, not having to turn around to know that the old man was behind him. "I told you I wasn't working with you ever again."

"I heard that loud and clear, Mark." Cecil continued, "I figured you weren't against updates, though."

The young man merely stayed silent, his whole body language screaming that he didn't want to hear him speak anymore. Cecil grimaced, biting the inside of his cheek. The idea he had seemed like it wasn't going to work, only made up with a few clues then and there, but he was already here so it would be a waste to not try it.

"There's a lot happening out there. It's difficult to keep up with everything."

Mark stayed silent, unresponsive as his eyes were staring only at Eve.

Cecil carried on, "I had to come up with creative solutions to the issues of not having resources, people, superheroes to go out there and protect the world."

Mark stayed unmoving, not reacting an inch.

"Do you remember the criminal you helped capture? Vandal? —"

"It's (Y/N)." Grayson jolted, turning to look at Cecil with stern eyes. His hands were still on Eve's, though he noted the small pull away. "Her name is (Y/N)."

"That's interesting, I didn't find out until today that was their actual name." The older man was quick to point out, raising a brow. "How did you know that? Didn't care to share with the rest of us?"

Mark hesitated, his eyes flickering away from Cecil. "She told me it the first time we fought. Must've slipped my mind." He vaguely dismissed, clearing his throat.

He had accidentally crossed your path when he first started out his journey as Invincible. He was still getting a hang on things, training to be a great hero just like his dad.

It took him a little bit too long to register that you were a villain—a criminal that he should've jumped to stop as soon as his eyes laid on the path of destruction you caused without a care of who you hurt.

Then it took him even longer to move from his spot with how strangely enamored he was with you. Mark was overcome by this rush of attraction that he had subconsciously held his breath. If it weren't for his viltrumite make up, he would've passed out with how much oxygen he deprived from his lungs.

Did villains usually have this effect on heroes? Fascinated, interested, curious, enamored? (Mark later found out that no, villains did not have this effect—for whatever reason, it was only you).

Once he finally snapped out of it, he was quick to try and stop you. Though with how inexperienced he was with fighting and your brawniness, you won. Beaten to a pulp, his body was sore and tired as he laid on the ground, groaning from the punches.

"Ah—shit." A whine escaped his throat. Was being a superhero going to be this painful?

You crouched down to his level, eyeing his costume that hugged his body. "It isn't a good idea to jump at a girl wrecking the place while being a baby super." You commented, your eyes filled with pity. You didn't take amusement in practically beating up an infant. "Downright idiotic."

"Idiotic and invincible shares the same starting letter," he coughed, shifting to look at you but a sharp pain jolted up his spine. "Ah, that hurts—so I guess they go hand in hand." He let out a nervous smile, giddiness budding at the pit of his stomach as he wiped off the blood that had dried out his upper lip.

It's wrong to feel so... so excitedly nervous about how close you were. Sure okay, you got close so you could punch and throw him around while you two fought—but right now Mark had the time to take you in fully.

You snorted, a giggle jumping out your lips. You weren't expecting him to crack a joke like that while he was beaten to a pulp and wow—that giggle of yours was beautiful. That made his heart dance and his stomach sick with how many butterflies there were.

You quickly covered your laughter, rubbing a hand over your mouth. "Invincible is a stupid name."

"What's yours? We can compare."

"… I earned the name Vandal, it's a stupid name too." You shrugged, pushing yourself to stand.

He tried to sit up, though shots of pain riddled him to fall. He didn't want you to leave so quickly—not out of fear you would go back to destroying stuff but out of fear he may not ever see you again.

"Is there another name I can call you? I-I mean, I would like the villain who beat me up to at least like their name." Mark stuttered out, a strained smile on his face.

You eyed him, raising a brow. Unimpressed at his lame reasoning. "What kind of reason is that?"

"Uh, I—well you know, erm—" His cheeks flushed a baby pink.

You sighed, finding yourself pitying the new hero. "Fine." You’ll humor this. Giving you his name wouldn't hurt, besides even if he told others, it wasn't enough to track you down. “It’s (Y/N).”

"Hm. Okay. Moving on." Cecil hummed, not convinced. “I had her be taken out of her cell. She's out on the field."

Now that got a response out of Mark. He let go of Eve's hand, his body moving in the blink of an eye as he appeared in front of Cecil. It caught the older man by surprise, taking a hurried step back.

“What do you mean out in the field? She shouldn’t be out there. She’s supposed to be in a prison cell. She’s supposed to be safe. I remember you saying that she will be!”

“That was after this shitshow started. Prior arrangements had to be moved around and changed.” He defended himself, narrowing his eyes at how quick he was to anger when you were handled in a manner he disagreed with. This pattern of possessiveness he had over a criminal was wrong.

Cecil had chosen to ignore this, chalking it up to some petty rivalry over the fact you had beaten him a couple of times—but now it was clear as day that it was definitely way more than that.

Just how much more was what Cecil was curious about. He needed to see exactly what you meant to him and if he could use that for his own gain. “If she can handle fighting against you, then hell, she can certainly handle herself against one of those variants. I needed all the manpower I can get, and she was the perfect option.”

“That still gave you no right!” He screamed.

“It does when the guy who can go head to toe with those invaders out there won’t leave this goddamn room.” Cecil retorted.

“So—So what?! She can die, Cecil.” He huffed, his fists clenching at the idea you were out there in harm’s way.

“Why does that matter so much to you, Mark? What exactly is she to you for you to be worked over this? I don’t have to omnipotent to know she doesn’t give a damn about you—not a single thought. Yet you’re here caring for her as if you’re her friend.” He paused, “Are you?”

Mark hitched breath, a lump in his throat as he brought his hands to hold onto his face.

He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you, and he knew that he shouldn’t be thinking about you as much as he should, but he couldn’t stop. His mind always wandered. Day and night without fail at some point his thoughts would be consumed by you, someone he barely knew anything about—someone that he shouldn’t be thinking of.

Mark tried to stay away from you—at least that’s what he told himself to make him feel better. He always jumped at the chance to go to you whenever you were back on your rampaging antics. Other heroes noticed, offering to take his place instead but he sternly refused.

He was territorial about being the one to stop you, being the one to fight you, being the one to be with you.

Mark told himself that he thought about you so frequently because of that pitiful ‘kindness’ you showed him at your guys’ first encounter. From that, you must be much better being a reformed criminal than a villain who took pleasure in seeing destruction.

 So, he tried to convince you to change your ways.

That’s what a superhero does, right? Not just help distressed citizens but everyone, even villains. He offered to help you lead a better life than the one you are right now, guide you how to use your powers for good rather than bad.

He also offered you companionship, friendship—a chance to have a deeper relationship than the close to nothing relationship you two currently had.

Though he was hurt every time you rejected him. Not hurt from the fact you rejected turning a new leaf but hurt that you rejected his friendship. Fine, you turned down being a good guy, but why turn him down?

Couldn’t you see that Mark ran to you each time? Couldn’t you see that he had got stronger, faster, better, each time you fought just to impress you? Couldn’t you see that he craved to know you more, the girl who he knew nothing about yet haunts him every day?

The bruises that you left on his body were the only thing you gave him that held a part of you—and he would stare at them in the mirror as he traced over them remembering the fists he came to memorize.

The bruises were the only thing you didn’t reject to give, and he hoped they never faded so he can carry the ghost of your touch on his body.

Mark Grayson tried to drop it—drop you. He was driving himself crazy over a stranger that wanted nothing to do with him. He tried tearing himself away from the idea of you, but he came back running whenever he heard you were out there.

Cecil voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “Well, Mark, are you?”

“No, we’re not friends.” He responded, his torn voice muffled by his hands.

“Then what is it? What is it ‘cause with how I’m seeing things no one should be caring about a stranger as much as much as you are right now.” Cecil bombarded, continuing to pile more questions on him relentlessly, pushing the boy’s buttons.

The half-viltrumite ran his hands to his hair, his fingers intertwining with his black locks as he let out an exhausted groan.

“Mark, say something. Say something Mark. For the love of God, fucking say something—”

“No! No, I don’t know her at all, I don’t mean anything to her! I’m not her friend. I’m nothing.” He snapped, his voice raised and shouting, his mouth running wild.  “That doesn’t mean that I don’t want her safe! That doesn’t mean I don’t care about her! That doesn’t mean I don’t want her.”

A tense silence fell on the room, the only sound was of the machines next to Eve’s bed.

“So that’s it. Your whipped for (Y/N).” Cecil finally broke the silence, scoffing in disbelief at what he had just discovered. “What twisted fascination do you have with her? A villain who never gave you the light of day, yet you hold this …” His face contorted, looking away from Mark. “I don’t even know what to call this. Sick? Twisted? Pathetic?”

“… Shut up. Just shut up.”

“Can’t do that because I’m not done talking.” He side eyed, “Your little crush is being jumped by multiple variants. Last I checked she ran, but got a suspicion it won’t be easy for her to get rid of them.”

Cecil felt himself slammed to the wall, the white collar of his shirt being tightly gripped. “What? Why didn’t you lead with that!”

“Sorry, kid, didn’t expect your type to be bad girls.” He grunted, staring into Mark’s brown eyes.

“Just tell me where she is.”

“Thinking of joining the fight now? Don’t want to stay here by Eve anymore? All I had to do was dangle something you can never have in front of your face to finally leave this room?”

Mark raised a fist and hit the wall behind the man he had pinned. “Tell me where (Y/N) is.”

Cecil dug his hand into his suit pocket, pushing an earpiece to his chest which Mark quickly caught. “Plug that in and Donald will tell you.” He stated. The grip Mark had on his collar loosened, pushing him aside as he went to grab his mask from the end of the bed.

As always, he comes running when he hears you’re out there.

"I am having a blast," This sinister version of Invincible smirked, his breathing heavy as he had you pinned to the ground. You made him work up quite a sweat, and he was getting quite thirsty. "You're so new, so fun, so entertaining, so enticing. I'm working up an appetite."

It felt like it has been ages since you were stuck fighting for your life against this man, but it has been only a couple of minutes.

Your face distorted in disgust. A hand of his was holding your two legs together so that you couldn't kick him away even though you were desperately trying to squirm your legs away from his tight grasp.

"Eat shit." You cursed, collecting the saliva that accumulated in your mouth and spitting it to his face—the wad of spit hitting the corner of his lips.

His smile faltered, before grinning again as he cooed at you. "That bitch of a mouth of yours needs work, though." Sinister Invincible parted his lips, his tongue licking the side of his face, collecting the saliva you had thrown at him and swallowing.

"You gross sick fu—hhmp!" You quickly got muffled as he had snaked his gloved fingers inside your mouth with his free hand, the taste of rubber filling your taste buds as you thrashed under his hold. You used your hands to scratch and slap his face, though that seemed to only entertain him further.

His fingers moved to feel your teeth, your tongue that tried to escape the taste of his gloves, and the soft as well as hard palate. You yelled muffled profanities, biting down on his fingers.

Your canine fangs broke through the rubber material of the glove, and he let out a small—was that fucking moan?—sound as that only served to give him more reason to push his fingers deeper down your mouth, his fingertips scooting to the entrance of your throat.

"Bite harder, cunt." He demanded, and you instinctively listened.

Your teeth pressed down on his skin, the bite breaking it as a metallic taste seeped into your taste buds joining the taste of the rubber gloves.

"Ouggh my god." Sinister Mark moaned; the pain brought by your fangs serving to be pleasurable. That hand he used to hold down your legs he shifted over to one, squeezing hard against the muscles and into the bone.

Crack!

"HHMP!" Your scream muffled into his glove, and you gagged soon after from his fingers hitting the back of your throat. The scratch and hits to his head were doing nothing to him, and you grimaced as your eyes darted around to find any way to get out of this.

You noticed how your broken leg wasn't immediately healing, like how it should be, and your eyes widen as you remembered the collar the G.D.A had placed around your neck. You had forgotten about it, and you closed your eyes as you knew what to do.

Your hands reached eagerly to the shock collar, digging your fingers between the metal and your neck as you began to tear away at it. It instantly began sending electricity through your body, riddling your body to the seizing and overwhelming pain that resembled the same sensation when you were hit with that gun. Your eyes opened, rolling to the back of your skull from the intensity.

You clenched your jaw as you continued to rip it from your neck, trying to keep your eyes open and not lose consciousness as the metal began to rip apart—the wires being revealed.

Whatever was sending the electricity was no longer contained to just your body, zapping in the air and reaching to the black and yellow Invincible that was on top of you.

The electrifying pain met him too, and he yanked his digits out of your mouth as the bolts traveled up to his entire body. You felt his weight lift off as you ripped the collar in two, gasping for air and rolling to your side.

Your body twitched as there was still electricity coursing through your body—and you felt an intense wave of exhaustion flood you.

No, I can't pass out, I need to get out of here. No, no—

You tried to resist, though black spots were already filling your vision as shapes and colors became a blur. Even then, you tried to crawl to distance yourself from the Invincible, but a sudden tight grip to your hair pulled you toward his direction.

"You disobedient bitch. Who told you to do that?" You heard a growl, the pull of your hair making you whine.

Your hair was suddenly released, feeling a strong gust of wind behind you as Sinister’s Mark voice off to the distance. You didn’t care to look back, trying to squint to see what was ahead of you.

Although your vision became increasingly blurry and you gagged from having his hand shoved down your throat a few seconds ago. You tried to sit up but failed, you head feeling heavy as it hit the ground.

You internally screamed to stay awake, but darkness hugged you. Before that however, you felt someone crouch next to you, a hand draped over your forehead as they said something to you. Whatever they said, you couldn’t tell, and you just prayed they were more of a friend than a foe another crazy Invincible.

sorry if this was boring, wanted to focus on Mainstream Mark in this one :P !!

Am I cray cray to think Sinister Mark loves dishing out and receiving pain

UMM anyway, we ignore how you can tell I’m new to writing action scenes tyyy 🫣🙈 oh also the plot holes shh

-bonsubear

[gojoidyll]

The only thing that stopped him in his tracks was the fact that literally nothing about you changed. You dressed the same, talked the same, acted the same. You even smiled the exact same way.

It made his teeth clench, his jaw tick, his fist curl.

The fuck was this shit anyway?

If he wasn't proof enough, in any universe, the same person was always different.

So why in the hell were you the same?

He was supposed to be taking down a city. But what was he doing? Looking right at you, minding your own damn business without a care in the world sipping some overpriced drink that you most likely complained to your friends about via text but bought the damn thing anyway.

And then you looked over at him, a smile on your face as you waved him over. He hated how his feet lifted off the ground and he just moved right over to you without any sort of resistance.

"Hey, Mark, it's been awhile. You've been so busy, I miss talking to you."

Your face, your voice, the way you talk, your speech patterns. Why was it the exact same?

"Also, another new suit? I was just getting used to seeing the blue and black one on TV."

The way you giggled made his heart sputter, his fists clenched and unclenched before they rested uselessly at his sides.

"There's going to be a battle here soon."

His voice, he didn't know if he sounded like your Mark or not, but...

"There is?"

He nodded, "you should get home. And don't come out until the news gives you the all clear."

Your lips parted as you stood up and raised your hand to reach for him, but he moved slightly causing your hand to miss.

He didn't know if he sounded like your Mark, but ... he was at least not going to let you die in this world.

"Will you be alright?"

He didn't know how to tell you that he was the one attacking the city. He knew the deal, knew what he had to do, but he really didn't want you to see something other than Mark. Not a monster, not a viltrumite. Just Mark.

"Maybe."

Maybe not.