ִֶָ࣪☾. | And Who Says Chivalry Is Dead?

ꨄ Hii, im eclipse! I usually write whatever I want, but its mostly unsavory stuff, sorry.

Fandoms im in: Mha and invincible

Writers tag: #eclipse's case files + characters i wrote for in the tags :-)

The tag: 'murder book dispatches' is usually just my thoughts/ analysis but not an actual fic

side note: make sure to heed the warnings for all my stuff! I include them in the top of my posts, always. ♡

Markus Sebastian Grayson

Touya is about to propose you just give him a plain old handjob when you say, “I guess you could fuck me.”

He closes his eyes and inhales sharply through his nose, with your legs wrapped around him, you felt the deep shudder that passes through him, making you bite your lip, “Do you have nothing except bad ideas, woman?” He scowls.

You attempt to rock into him, but frankly speaking, he was very strong, and very stubborn as well. “Does your body think its a bad idea, too?” You get on your elbows to kiss him. He may be as headstrong as a bull, but there were cracks in the facade. He kisses you back in earnest.

You let go and lean back on your elbows, giving him your best bedroom eyes, “Fuck me, Touya.” You bat your lashes.

He looks at you hotly, his face flushing, and brushes his confined dick to your thigh, making him moan. The cogs seem to turn in his head, albeit not many. “…okay.” He breathes.

I feel like mark would be so whiny and pathetic when it came to sex.

At first he’d really, and I mean REALLY try to impress you. He’d make you cum atleast once or twice before you even touched him. But god, once you finally pull his dick out and let your hand wrap around him he’d be done for.

He would let out the sweetest whines when you give him a hand job. His face would be all flushed and sweaty, pretty puppy dog eyes all blown out and glassy.

Oh and don’t get me started on if you took him into your mouth. The feeling of your spit mixing with his pre, your tongue licking at him. The way you looked up at him with those eyes. He honestly might have cum then and there.

But he’d hold himself off, even if it hurt. Because he wanted to make you happy and if you don’t explicitly tell him when and where you want him to cum he wont. When he finally gets to put himself inside of you, he feels himself already on edge. He has to focus almost completely on not cumming and ruining your experience. I feel like he’d just lay there and whine, whimpering when you ground your hips into his (if you wanted to ride him, although he’d offer to fuck you missionary so you could relax, he wouldn’t survive missionary. This is better.) he would look all around the room, too blissed out to think about anything besides not cumming. And finally after you get your fill and say the magic words, he would immediately fill up the condom. Hands forced on his sides, ripping the fabric of the sheets because he doesn’t trust himself to hold onto you. He’d thank you over and over again as he cums, letting out the cutest whines when he finally pulls out of you.

(I head cannon that all viltrumites are super sensitive down thereee)

(Also this is kinda self indulgent and ooc but I don’t care)

Mark remembers being your husband.

Well, okay, he was never actually your husband.

But when you played house in the comfort of backyards and playgrounds, he never had an issue assuming that role in your game of make believe. Whatever it took to just to keep his friend.

You'd use whatever you had around as your "kids." New action figures, old dollies, spare blankets, the poor dog who wanted no part in being dressed up.

It wasn't Mark's thing, no. But he played along properly each time just to stay with you till the sun went down.

He'd fix the house, go to work, play hero with your kids, take you on pretend dates, he'd even pick you up and spin you around as a greeting for when he got home! Well, okay, maybe he wasn't quite strong enough to do that yet. But he certainly tried! Giggling when you two tipped over, talking about his supposed day at work.

He didn't stop you if you had an idea either.

You want to pretend you're going to the store? Sure thing, he'll push the basket. You stuff a ball under your shirt to pretend you got a baby in there? Okay, he'll do the chores while you sit 'n sew. You want to kiss him cause you just love your husband oh so much? Uhh ... well, maybe that's a bit ... oh, and now you're kissing him anyways. Super.

Admittedly, he didn't like that part at first, cooties and all, but his admonition went out the window as you huffed and started chasing him round and round until you landed a successful one on his lips.

He soon got used to it though, even puckering up before you had put your kids to sleep. He even found himself thinking about it when it was time for you two to hit the hay.

And even now as he got older.

When he sat there at his desk, spacing out. First wondering about what's for lunch, then the latest comic waiting for him at home, then you.

He hadn't seen you a long time. You probably forgot about him by now. Or maybe not? You two did spend a lot of time together and you seemed to have about as many other friends as he did (which wasn't a lot). But you guys were more grown up now, you'd probably repressed those memories, right?

Yeah, that seems more likely.

I mean, why worry about that one scrawny boy when you were probably surrounded by lots of hot guys now.

One who'd be your real husband someday. That you'd make play with your kids and cuddle up to and kiss over and over again.

Mmm ... for some reason Mark didn't like that thought. Nose scrunching up and brows furrowing.

You'd been his first kiss, you know. And probably his only one. That thought made him feel strange too. Though in a better way that turns bittersweet in the end.

Did you ever think about that?

How he could technically have been considered your first boyfriend?

Oh no, well now he hopes not. Cause if you did, you'd have to tell your current boyfriend, right? Then he'd want to come beat up the punk who knew his girl.

Mark rubbed his eyes, trying to get that out of his head. It'd suck if he'd made an another enemy he didn't even know existed. A guy could only take so much locker shoving, you know?

He sighed and looked up to the front of the class. He hadn't heard a word the teacher said and could only hope it wasn't important.

They guestured to the door.

A surprise principal meeting? Hadn't had one of those in a while. He should probably look at the other kids' desks to figure out what he should be pretending to do.

The door's opening.

Okay, no one has their notebooks so maybe he should- wait. Is that you!?

You were taller than back then, but he could recognize you from anywhere! He watched as your lips started moving, those lips that had countlessly kissed his. He blanked on what you were saying, but he heard your voice. The sound just made all those random specifics details of you appear in his mind all at once.

And he may have been making things up at this point, but he swears your eyes were on him the moment you walked in.

You remember him? Even if it is just a little vaguely? You don't know how high that'd make his heart rocket.

Did you maybe want to sit by him? He wouldn't mind. Maybe you couldn't play house anymore, but you could still do things as you used to right?

Or maybe he could work his way up to becoming your actual husband now?

That was why you were suddenly here, right? The fates decided you weren't done playing pretend. Was he cool enough to talk to you now? Could he even bring up what had technically happened between you?

Would you bring it up?

Or does he have to keep sitting here, reliving those tender moments till the rest of his days?

Please don't make it come to that.

Please ...

sinister mark art pack!

request my art here

brushes i used on csp:

milk carton brush

paint (yes thats the name)

fresh salmon

sona brush

ִֶָ࣪☾. | Sinister.

ᥫ᭡. Part two! (Part 1 here)

Tags: canon-typical violence, pwp (porn with plot), cunnilingus, oral sex (f receiving), interrupted sex, sinister mark is his own warning.

Silently, you read on your soft, large bed. The one that you’d told Mark to get you after he had kindly snapped the last one’s framework in half.

Afterwards, you’d tried to convince him to sleep on the pull-out couch downstairs. Unfortunately, he had thought you were making a less-than-clever joke. 

Even with the window closed shut and the curtains drawn, you could still hear the destruction and the screams of agony from outside; and it was creating a serious detriment to your train of thought. You can’t focus if you’re rudely interrupted by a cry or a pained scream after reading a single sentence. 

You let out an annoyed groan when you hear a goddamn gun go off, and decide to take matters in your own hands. Or rather, dump them on Mark. 

You place your bookmark with little cats on it in the page you’ve stopped, a paw extending to point to the last sentence you read. Then, you hop off the bed to draw open the curtains and open the window. You don’t bother to direct your gaze downwards, where the murder and destruction occurs. 

“Mark!” You call out loudly. You wait for a few seconds, keeping an eye on the sky as you wait. Your expression warps to a more annoyed the longer he takes. “Maaaark!” 

Amidst the polluted sky, you see something like a sonic boom approach from far away. When he’s a couple hundred meters close, he steadily slows down, angling his feet forward to slow himself further. Till finally, he’s face level with you. 

“Yes?” He says with a grin. 

“What took you so long? I’ve been waiting here forever.” 

He sighs, “Baby, I was in Rome. You know how far away that is?” You roll your eyes, “Pretty damn far away.” 

He leans in through the window and plants a kiss, “If you want, I can take you with me right now.” He says musically.

You shake your head and smirk, “Lovely offer, but no.” Then, a frown takes place on your lips, leading you back to the reason you called him, “Mark, I can’t pay attention. I'm trying to read that stupid book, but I can't.” You gesture to your ears, “Everything is so loud.” 

In that exact moment, an explosion goes off. Mark genuinely thinks about it for a moment, offering a solution, “So, do you want to live somewhere more remote?” 

“No. I don’t want to live in a wasteland.” 

“So do you want me to kill everyone here?” 

“But then who will I talk to?” You complain. 

He sighs, “Can’t you just deal with it?” You frown, and he eats up his words, “Okay. Fine, fine.” You can practically see him roll his eyes, even with his ridiculous goggles. “But I want pasta for dinner.” 

You pout, “That’s what we had last night!” 

He grins, “But not from Italy.” 

He gives you a last, parting kiss, and then darts away. You nearly tip over at the force of it, then wipe your lips with a groan. You close the window and shut the curtains. 

For a few, particularly annoying moments. There’s nothing but annoying loud noise. You try to keep your mind off of it by plugging in your headphones and listening to the songs you’ve saved. 

You walk over to the bookcase in the room, pristine and untouched. After the fiasco a few nights ago, you refused him when he wanted to put it back in its original spot in the living room. Instead, you decided on keeping the nook close to your heart, and you. In the bedroom. 

You run your fingers across the rows of books. By the time you find that same, slightly tampered with book, the noise has dispelled, leaving you in a comforting silence. You hum along to the song as you open the book. 

The book that you are fairly sure that you hadn’t possessed before your fight. You don’t know what had compelled you to look for a book you didn’t own that night. But somehow, you knew you needed that book, and you knew it was just within your reach. 

For some strange reason, the man that had opened a portal to your dimension –Angstrom Levy– was not keen on grabbing your Mark by the scruff and chucking him to a lovely reality he can ruin for his own enrichment. Or, that’s what you thought the idiot’s thought process was. Who the fuck knows what he’s thinking, really. 

The book is on how dimensions work, how people that can open realities do that, and most importantly, how people who can’t inherently create a hole in the fabric of reality, learn how to. 

Interesting stuff. 

On the armchair near the bookcase, your legs are pulled to you and you drape a blanket over your lap. You take a sip of your warm cup of tea and set it down on the small coffee table next to you. 

You open to where you stopped, and begin to read. 

You have read this book more than a few times over the last couple days since you discovered it’s existence. During that time, you’ve found it’s less been a long read, and more a tough read. You’re trying your best to wrap your head around the idea before you even begin to attempt it. Because you only really get one chance. One chance to get rid of your Mark. And if you fail? Well, then you can kiss kicking Mark’s ass out of this reality goodbye. 

The entire late afternoon, you spend it in your reading nook, repeating over and over what you have to do to open a portal to a different reality. 

When seven o’ clock strikes, you hear the familiar click of the front door. And before you could even lift your face to see, you’re met face-to-face with Mark. 

He sees the book you’re reading, “I see you’re making good use of your time.” He kisses your cheek, “I’ll take a quick shower and meet you downstairs. I won’t take too long.” You suppose the last part was meant to be a threat. 

***

At the dinner table, you twirl your fork around the spaghetti, then push the spikes of it into a meatball, before putting it in your mouth. As you chew, you hum pleasantly. 

He watches your expression with a keen eye, a grin on his lips at his triumph. “See? I told you it wouldn’t be cold. You just like to complain.” 

You swallow. “It’s a little cold.” You don’t want him to think he did an amazing job and get too full himself. 

He throws his hands up and furrows his eyebrows at you, “No! It isn’t!” You just shrug. 

The rest of the dinner continues to be a series of cutlery clinking with each other as you silently eat. Per usual, Mark’s face is screwed up into a frown.

“So,” He tries to start, “How’s the book you were reading going along?” You look at him with an eyebrow raised, and he groans, “The one with the angsty guy.” 

You sigh and correct him, “Angstrom.” You take a sip of wine, it’s painfully good. “And I already told you, I can’t open a portal. It’s impossible. You have to be born with it.” 

You fall into yet another uncomfortable silence. And the cycle continues with Mark trying to speak up, “Well, what about those other books you were reading? The one with the dragons and princesses and whatever.” 

Each time, you respond as curtly as physically possible, and the dinner ends with you throwing the dishes in the garbage. Because who does dishes at the end of the world, anyway? 

Without needing to be told, you hop on the marble counter and let Mark slip between your legs. He holds your hips as gently as possible (for him, anyway) as he kisses your lips. But as the kisses become more heated, his grip on you tightens, and you repress an annoyed sigh. He’s such a goddamned brute it’s almost aggravating. 

He picks you up by the back of your thigh without cutting off the kiss, a show of his strength. You wrap your arms around his neck and let him kiss you on the table where you were eating at. You let him suck at your lips against the living room couch, and you let him mark your neck against the stairs, before finally carrying you up into the bedroom. 

Along the way, there is a mess of a trail of clothes. He throws you onto the bed and takes his underwear and pants down in one go. He kicks them away and crawls to you, planting kisses down your neck. 

“You’re so fucking…” He grabs your waist tightly, “bitchy without even trying.” He bites the column of your neck harshly, then again on the other side. You yelp both times. “You know how goddamn annoying you are?” 

He’s taking his frustrations out on dinner, and every dinner, on you. And you won’t have that. You slap his back, he shudders, “Either do it right or get off of me.” You grit. 

He just groans, “God, I hope that leaves a mark.” He kisses down your body. Starting from the middle of your chest, to your stomach, all the way down to your pelvis. With how impatient he is, it doesn’t take long before he plants a wet kiss directly on your folds. Your thighs instinctively cage his head. He snickers. 

“Oh…” He chuckles breathily against your cunt, making your spine shiver. “Missed this fucking cunt.” 

You don’t, or rather can’t, comment on how it’s only been two days since the two of you last had sex, because he decides to put his face directly into your pussy, licking at it. His mouth finds your clit, and latches on it, sucking. 

You immediately grip his dark hair, moaning. Your breath turns ragged as he leaves your clit a sensitive, puffy mess. “D-Don’t tease.” You grumble, but it sounds more like a whimper. 

He licks a stripe along your folds in response, “Baby, I’ll do whatever the fuck I want, ‘cause this is my pussy. You fucking got that?” He licks along your folds insistently, making you squirm. 

When you don’t reply, he slaps your hip, “You got that?” and you nod immediately, amusing him. As a reward, he slips a finger inside your wet core, and your breath is caught in your throat. 

Without bothering to let you get used to the feeling, he starts to slip it in and out. The lewd squelching sounds please him, and he returns his attention back to your clit. 

“M-Mark–” You barely say, your leg jerking, “Wait–” 

He takes that as an invitation to slip a second finger inside of you, making you gasp. He crooks them, trying to find your most sensitive spot, and he catches it when you scream. 

Determined to make you cum, each thrust of his fingers lands on your g-spot. Your head thrashed against the pillow, and your body jerks, trying to get away from him. But you’re pretty sure you’d cry if he did. 

He takes turns sucking on your clit, and marking your inner thighs. Every movement and jerk makes you flex, and he grips your thigh, “Stay fucking still, yeah?” 

You try, but it’s asking the impossible. Mark goes down on you again, eating at your pussy with renewed fervor. Curse viltrumite stamina. Or bless it. 

You feel the feeling in your stomach boil over, and you barely have time to warn him before he makes you come with a scream. You cry, and your cum lands on his mouth, making a mess, and he eagerly laps up your release. You breathe quickly, your thighs squeezing around him so hard his skull might bash in if he wasn’t superhuman.  

Eventually, you come down. Though your breath still comes in sharp inhales as you try to calm yourself. You realize it’s impossible with Mark still in between your legs. You try to push him off you as he licks at your inner thigh, “Mark—” You whine, “Enough. Stop. It hurts.” 

With one last lick, he finally gets up from between your legs. His tongue darts from his lips to clean them of your release. He crawls on top of you and kisses beneath your jaw, his hands going to feel your body up and down.

“Well it’s about to hurt a lot more. Because you’re such a sweetheart, and you’ll let me finish inside of you.” He squeezes your waist, “Won’t you?” 

Your cunt automatically pulses like a sleeper agent, and you feel the waves of arousal come back to you in an instant. Yes, the fuck. You are a goddamned sweetheart. The sweetest, even. 

You can’t help yourself from wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him, which he responds to with a pleasant moan. He grabs the side of your head and sucks at your lips, like he’s trying to eat them. But you don’t care. You want to have him. And you want him right now. 

His tongue slips between your kiss-bitten lips, and you feel his hardness push against your inner thigh. So close, yet so completely far away. 

“Mark.” You moan, “Mhm?” he says back, and you take a second to lay back down, looking up at his sickly sweet puppy eyes. Pretty eyes that are clouded over with lust. 

You let out a sound that’s like a whine. “Please? Now?” He chases after you like a puppy, immediately connects your lips again. 

“Yea, mmm, fuck. Yeah, okay.” 

He rubs his cock against your inner thigh, and it barely grazes your core, making you whine. You’ll die if you don’t get to have him inside of you right now. You wrap your legs around the small of his back, letting him know. 

He continues to kiss you like he’s starved, practically trying to melt your lips into each other as he humps your inner thigh. 

You feel sweat cling to your skin and Mark’s breathing becomes more frequent. 

He sits up on his haunches and strokes the underside of his cock, his eyes rolling back atthe pleasure. You swallow, enraptured by his display as he pumps his dick right in front of you. “You want this?” 

You look into his eyes with as much desperation as you’re trying to convey: yes. Oh my god, yes. 

He looks down at you with half-lidded eyes, and he brings your thighs around his hips. You help him without hesitation. Your body racks with nerves and anticipation as you eye his dick. Excitement bubbles up in your core. 

Just as you think he’s about to slam into you as roughly as he always does, he’s suddenly snapped out of his lusty haze, his face becoming more alert as he glances around the room. He quickly turns his head up to look at the window. Wordlessly, he jumps out of bed with speed and peels back the curtains. 

You know better than to even call out his name, so you lift the covers up to your chest and try to see what he’s seeing, sitting up. 

From the exact opposite side of the room, there’s a crackle, and an otherworldly sound fills the room as a bright green portal opens up. Instantly, it casts the room in its unrealistic, brilliant green. 

It continues to swirl in on itself, as it had done that fateful night. 

Mark looks at you, as if you’d done that, and you snort, “Yeah cause i’d have enough concentration to warp reality while we have sex.” 

He groans, not at all pleased with the turn of events. “Well, if you’re soo concentrated, close it back up again.” 

“And what the hell makes you think I can do that?” 

While the two of you bicker, a figure emerges from the portal, and your eyes flit to it on instinct. Meanwhile, Invincible’s instinct is to pull back his fist, ready to kill. 

Your jaw falls open as what emerges from the portal is not like anything you’ve seen. It’s a man, with a large, gross-looking head. He wears an inelaborate suit with a dramatic red cape. You turn your head and frown in distaste. 

You’ve always associated Mark with being some kind of freak accident, but this guy clearly takes the cake for being a mutant abnormality. 

“Invincible.” He declares, and in your opinion, ridiculously. “I have a proposal.” 

So it seems that’s what mutants say instead of ‘Hello.’ these days. 

You squint your eyes at the man. He seems familiar, but at the same time not at all so. 

“Angstrom?” You say, before Invincible almost punches through his guts with a yell. 

Instead, he catches himself and merely shoves him to the wall opposite, creating a crater. He looks back at you, “This guy?” He asks incredulously. You can only nod. 

“Thank you for your hospitality, I'm sure you’re known for it.” Angstrom groans after being struck. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask against your better judgement.

“Well, I wanted to give you guys some privacy so you can finish up.” He looks to Invincible, “But I don’t have all day for you to get off, too. And it’s as they say, ladies first, anyway.” 

You could not believe what your ears had just heard and what information your brain just relayed to you. You’re pretty sure your vagina just shriveled up and died right there. 

It’s only then that you notice Mark stands with his dick hanging. Just like that. Just…like… that. 

Perhaps it is just a way of life that you will never understand men.

Angstrom relays to invincible the deal that had slipped out of your mouth the night of your fight. To no one’s surprise, he instantly agrees. And faster than you can blink, he changes into his black and yellow suit. 

The man with brains for a head goes through the portal without further delay, confident Invincible will follow anyway. 

Invincible floats in front of the portal, looking back at you with his usual, cocky grin. You must look like a fish out of water. 

“This probably won’t take longer than a few days, you know?” 

You nod, not sure what to say. 

“And it’s what we want, to expand the empire.” 

You nod again, wordlessly. 

Satisfied, he flies through the portal, and it closes up behind him without delay. Instantly, the room is free of the portal’s glimmering green glow, and it’s shrouded in the complete darkness it was in.

Seems that mutants don’t say hello, or goodbye. 

You get off the bed sluggishly and put on your underwear and your shirt. You go to your small reading nook that was only made recently. The book Angstrom had given you is still laid on top of your thin blanket. You take it, and drop it into the trash can. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

a/n: sorry to edge, next part will have p in v, yay.

Tagged: @onlybatsyy

Viltrumite Mark be like “come to Viltrum”

ִֶָ࣪☾. | Love is Blind.

Mark/ Mohawk Mark x reader

About: Basically invincible variants bullshit, and mohawk mark is the hottest I fear. Reader mistakes mohawk mark for their mark. Ouch! Tags: Non canon compliant, literally has nothing to do with what actually went down, mohawk mark playing his cards right to get some. we love a clever man around here, Reader is naive asf, implied smut but it's really just some kissing. (saint virgin eclipse era.)

-------------------

“Just stay calm and I’ll fix everything, I promise.” You hear a shrill scream and the sound of a thousand science fair volcanoes erupting. In response, you duck behind an apartment building. 

Clutching your bag to your body, you somehow make it through the alleyway and out the other side, just a little further from the destruction. In that moment, Mark decides to give you some of his classic, wise advice, “And preferably get further from the damage? I can still see you, you know…” 

You close your eyes and cringe at that. Oh, that snarky, asshole, piece of shit. With a big mouth, too. You glare at the sky, though you don’t see him. You hope it gets the message across. 

Maybe if Mark stopped pulling his goddamn punches, then a fire breathing dragon wouldn’t be terrorizing your district. And in that moment you swear to yourself that when Mark saves the universe, you’ll kill him immediately after, so he wouldn’t even get to enjoy it. 

Before you can plan your revenge on your boyfriend, a car plummets heavily into the gravel from the sky, just a few feet away from you, and you instictively scream. The car makes a million different noises of honks and rings as you try to catch your breath. Why me? You lament, Why goddamn me? 

“Are you okay?” You hear across the line once you’ve calmed down a little more, and you clench the phone in your hands. 

“Just peachy. I’ll call you back when I get some place safe.” You say into the speaker, and Mark says something brilliant like, “Whuh?” before you end the call. 

You make sure to put your phone safely in your bag before you run. You run faster than you’ve ever run before in your life. You run away from the danger, from monsters and superhero boyfriends and unfortunately— your apartment and flat screen TV. 

Adrenaline keeps you going till you reach the heart of the city. You manage to accidentally break the lock of your planned safehouse in your rush, but you decide to shut it behind you and pretend that didn’t happen. 

You hang your bag, and in that moment quickly decide that leaving the door unlocked was not one of your brightest ideas, and you begin to barricade your door, placing any heavy furniture you can find in front of it. Which honestly, isn’t much. 

Once you sit down on the plain white bed, you start to notice the burn in your legs and your sides from sprinting halfway across the city. You try to rub your waist as you look for Mark’s contact on your phone. 

“Need help with that?” 

The voice makes you shriek and jump from the bed. Your heart beats a mile a minute as you see Mark– no, Mark with a mohawk resting on the inside sill of your window. 

With that realization, you take a pillow and throw it at him, “Oh my god Mark, you scared me—!" He dodges easily and you try to catch your breath, "What are you doing here? Go. Help The Guardians or something.” You say, slightly out of breath.

Mark hops off the window and stalks towards you, there's a crazed gleam in his eyes, “Don’t worry, it’s all taken care of…” He says rather breathily, like he’s in awe or in disbelief. 

He stalks to you till he’s right in front of you, and you miss the way he grips your shoulder by the way your blood is still thumping madly in your veins, and slides across your arms till he reaches your hands, and squeezes. 

Ignoring your rapidly beating heart, you get on your tippy toes and try look across his shoulder to the window. Without even taking a glance yet, you hear a scream and the sound of catastrophe. Before you can open your mouth to tell him to 'get back out there!', Mark zips to the window, shutting the blinds and coming back to his original position with such speed it nearly knocks you off balance. Luckily, he’s there to stabilize you by gripping your hips, digging his fingers through your jeans. 

“Mark—” You tell him, then sigh when he raises his eyebrows and smiles. He appears a bit different. You’d noticed it when you first saw him, but with the blinds closed…

“What’s with the new do?” You ask him, “Got your hair burnt off or something?”

He laughs, boisterous in a way that Mark has never. You wonder if it’s the adrenaline from the battle, and merely roll your eyes. 

He pushes you back to the bed, till you willingly fall on the white sheets and he climbs on top of you. 

“Fuck. I missed you, you’re so goddamn hot.” He breathes as he kisses your jaw wetly, trailing all the way to your chin. “You like my hair?” 

You ignore him. “The world needs you, and you’re here, fooling around?” You grumble, not exactly thrilled with this turn of events. 

He can play the ignoring game too, “My hair. Do you like it?” He kisses your lips sloppily, and you don’t even extend the effort to kiss his back, just letting him suck and kiss as he pleases. 

Your eyes flit to his hair, thinking about it seriously for a moment, “Mmm…yeah. It’s sexy. I guess.” You add that last part to keep his ego contained. He chuckles and bites at your neck, kissing it roughly after. 

“You’re so fucking sexy im gonna ruin you.” 

He wastes no time in pinning you and making out sloppily on the bed. You grip the hair that is on his head to angle him as you please. He finds that funny.

You barely hear your phone ring. But with super hearing, of course your boyfriend manages to detect it. Mohawk Mark kicks at your bag, and your phone clatters out of it, showing a missed call from: Mark <3

Not proofread but I dont keh because I am wild and free! Stay tuned for tomorrow nights episode where I peg him!!! <33

oh my goddddd!!!!!! this is so so good i am so impressed

The meat between a mark and Rex sandwich