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nappingnai · 2 months ago

Note

Could you possibly write more for Peni Parker!Reader? I like the idea of her becoming unknowingly Mark's unofficial little sister that is honestly more wise and responsible than him due to having to be so independent from a young age. Like, brushing off his praise and platonic affection as they get closer before it just becomes assumed.

𝐔𝐧𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝

Mark Grayson x Peni-Parker!Reader [Platonic]

Summary || There always seemed to be the strangest bonds in unfamiliar situations.

Note // I hear you, and I got you. my heart is bursting with so much serotonin \(^ヮ^)/

A rooftop in Chicago at twilight, with the cityscape humming below. SP//dr rests nearby, powered down but glowing faintly, perched like a sleeping guardian. Mark hovers a few feet above the ledge, suit still dusted with scuffs from a recent scuffle. [Name] stands with her back to the wind, arms crossed, backlit by the crimson of the setting sun.

"You know," Mark says, floating down to sit beside her on the ledge, "You’re kinda ridiculous."

[Name] doesn't look at him, still watching the city. “That’s rich coming from someone who face-tanked a collapsing train today.”

He chuckles, but there's an ache in it. “I had it under control.”

“You were unconscious for six minutes.”

He makes a face. “You timed it?”

“You weren’t breathing for two of them.”

“Okay, okay,” Mark sighs, brushing the back of his glove across a smear of blood on his goggles. “But you—you took out half the Doomsquad's drones with just the snare. And those mines? I swear, you’re turning this whole ‘defensive support’ thing into an art form.”

“Someone has to play smart when you’re out here playing ‘punch first, get hospitalized later.’” Her tone’s dry, but there’s a flicker of something warmer in her voice.

He leans back on his hands, looking up at the sky instead of her. “You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re trying to look out for me.”

[Name] finally glances over, one brow raised. “Try living with a psychic spider in your head for years. It teaches you patience. And responsibility.”

There’s a long pause before Mark speaks again, voice lower now. “Still. You’re always there. You patch me up, cover my back, chew me out after. You're like—"

“Don't say it.”

He grins sideways. “—like a little sister.”

[Name] groans, turning her face away again. “Older. I’m clearly the older sibling here.”

“Maybe in maturity.” Mark bumps her shoulder with his. “But I’m the one who has to make sure you’re not working yourself to death.”

She scoffs, brushing him off with a half-hearted flick of her fingers. “I don’t break. I just bend.”

“But you shouldn’t have to bend alone all the time,” he murmurs.

That catches her off guard, if only for a second. SP//dr's core pulses softly behind them, reflecting the brief silence.

She exhales slowly. “...Guess I just got used to doing things solo. Back in Tokyo Webworld, no one flew in unless it was a crisis or a convergence. I didn’t have a team. I was the team.”

“Well,” Mark says with quiet certainty, “you’re not alone here.”

She glances at him again, not scoffing this time. No quip. No brushing it off.

Just a soft, “...I know.”

Another beat. The breeze tugs at her coat. Then—

“I’m still calling the shots when we’re surrounded.”

Mark grins. “Deal. But I get to call you ‘Spider-Sis’ now.”

“Nope.”

“C’mon! What about ‘Sis//dr’?”

She gives him a deadpan stare. “...I hope Conquest breaks your other rib.”

Late afternoon, the city skyline bathed in gold. A tall, mostly-abandoned telecom tower looms over Chicago. At the top, a figure dangles off the side, boots propped up lazily on a railing, hands behind their head, the cockpit of SP//dr open like a relaxed metal lotus. From far away, it looks precarious. Up close, it’s just [Name] doing [Name]-things.

Mark’s voice crackles over the comms first—half exasperated, half amused.

"You know you’re gonna give Cecil a heart attack if you fall off something that high again, right?"

[Name] doesn’t even flinch, her body dangling in that loose-limbed way of someone who trusts gravity not to mess with them. She lazily lifts one hand and wiggles her fingers at him in greeting.

SP//dr stirs slightly behind her—never fully asleep when she’s nearby, its core casting rhythmic light across the rusted steel around them.

"He should be more worried about you flying into buildings."

Mark slows in midair, arms crossed, hovering just above the platform. “That was once. A low visibility incident.”

“You flew into a billboard that said 'Hero Insurance is real!' Ironic doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

He rolls his eyes and lands, boots clinking against the metal. “You’re lucky I like you.”

“Most people are.”

SP//dr’s cockpit closes with a hiss as [Name] pulls herself up with practiced ease, plopping down on top of the mech’s shoulder, letting her legs swing. The wind ruffles her hair, but she looks calm—comfortable, like she belongs up here. Above the noise. With the city at her feet and the stars slowly crawling into the sky.

Mark steps beside the mech and bumps his elbow against its knee. “So what are you doing up here anyway?”

She shrugs. “Waiting. SP//dr likes the view. Says the city buzz feels different at this height.”

Mark raises an eyebrow. “It said that?”

“It thinks it,” she smirks. “I translate.”

A soft ping echoes in both their comms before Cecil’s voice cuts in, sharp and sterile as usual.

"Grayson. Parker. We’ve got reports of a rampaging tech-mutant in the lower financial sector. Big. Ugly. Crashing things. Possibly Mauler-adjacent."

Mark groans. “Every time I think we’ll get one day without a mutant crab-thing climbing out of the sewers...”

[Name] is already sliding into SP//dr’s cockpit as it locks around her, systems flaring to life. Her voice is more focused now, clipped but steady.

“Deploying Arachno-Nest and drone protocols. Let’s drop in quiet before your fists start making headlines.”

He lifts off the platform in one smooth motion. “No promises.”

SP//dr jumps after him, launching off the edge with an elegant, bone-shaking leap. It hits a building side mid-fall and crawls along it like a metallic ghost spider, [Name] deploying her Cyber-Bond line to slingshot onto a rooftop and drop her first cluster-web into position.

Mark glances over mid-flight, his voice softened by static and something else.

"Y’know… you looked peaceful up there."

She responds without looking at him, focusing on her HUD. "I was. Then you showed up."

"You’re welcome."

A pause.

Then, like she’s giving just a little ground—

"Thanks, Mark."

"For what?"

"Showing up. Even when I don’t ask."

A beat.

"Yeah, well... little sisters don’t always have to ask."

Then the roar of twisted metal cuts off the moment, and the two launch into the smoke-clogged sky, ready to crash into battle with banter still buzzing in their ears.

The streets are chaos—cars overturned, storefronts demolished, a huge tech-mutated creature tearing through the gridlocked traffic like it’s nothing. It’s a hulking fusion of steel and flesh, Mauler-blue glow pulsing under its skin, arms like jackhammers and a face like an exposed circuit board.

Mark rockets in first, blue and black suit streaking past falling debris. His fists smash through a piece of rebar that would've pinned a cab beneath it, then he plants himself between the monster and a group of fleeing civilians.

“Hey ugly!” he shouts. “I’ve got a billion reasons you should stop wrecking the city—but let’s start with me!”

The creature snarls and charges.

Then—thwip—crash!

A glowing Cyber-Web Snare latches onto its ankle, yanking it back mid-sprint. It stumbles—then BOOM, it faceplants into a building wall just as [Name] swings overhead on a webline, deploying her Cyber-Web Cluster around the perimeter like a glowing net trap.

“You’re welcome,” she says coolly over the comms.

“Hey, I was distracting him!”

“From who? The building?”

Mark grits his teeth and blasts forward as the mutant rips free, only for a series of Arachno-Mines to click and beep quietly as it stumbles into the webbed area.

“Wait—mines?! [Name]—”

“They’re stealth mines. You’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“...Fifty-eight percent.”

“WHAT?!”

The mines detonate just as Mark flies over the blast radius, sending the creature skidding backward while he barely clears the concussion wave. He spins in mid-air and lands hard, sliding across the pavement.

SP//dr drops down beside him with a seismic clang, and [Name] steps out of the mech for a second, hands flicking in tight, practiced gestures as she repositions her Spider-Nest. The city street beneath them glows faintly with layered Cyber-Webs connecting across windows and lamp posts.

“He’s not stopping,” Mark says, spitting a bit of blood. “It’s like someone duct-taped a tank to a blender and gave it a grudge.”

“That thing’s core is exposed,” [Name] mutters, eyes flicking across her HUD. “Right there—center of mass, between the cybernetic plating. The rest is reinforced, but that’s tissue. If we can immobilize it long enough…”

Mark grins. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

She side-eyes him. “I deploy. You punch.”

He’s already floating, cracking his knuckles. “Classic combo.”

“Go loud.”

SP//dr slams down a secondary Nest that webs across the entire intersection. The creature roars and charges again, but this time it hits nothing but traps—snaring its legs, slowing it just long enough for [Name] to leap from the mech, swinging overhead on a Cyber-Bond line.

From above, she rains down a flurry of Cyber-Web Clusters, blanketing the target until it’s pinned like a fly in a digital cocoon.

“NOW, Mark!”

He barrels forward, a sonic boom trailing behind him, and hits the mutant dead-center with a punch that craters the street. The shockwave pulses outward like thunder, blasting dust and sparks in every direction.

The tech-mutant shudders once, lets out a warped, gurgling scream—and then collapses.

The street is silent except for the crackle of broken streetlights and the faint beeping of [Name]’s cooldown timer.

Mark exhales, straightening his posture as he brushes cement dust off his arms. “That was awesome.”

[Name] swings down beside him, SP//dr clambering up behind her like a loyal sentinel.

“You didn’t fly into any webbing this time,” she says, mock-impressed.

“You’re never letting that go, are you?”

She smirks. “Nope.”

Then, a softer beat. “Nice punch.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Nice trap.”

There’s a moment—quiet, settled, mutual respect thick in the air.

Then Cecil cuts in over the comms, as dry as ever.

“Nice work, you two. Parker, debrief and scan the core for Mauler signatures. Grayson—stop cracking the pavement, city budget’s already in flames.”

Mark groans. “He lives to ruin the moment.”

[Name] chuckles. “And you live to fall for it.”

They walk off together toward the wreckage, SP//dr crawling behind them like a massive metal dog.

Banter and beatdowns. Just another day on the job.

The Grayson household. Cozy, lived-in. The smell of something warm and familiar cooking drifts in from the kitchen. It's evening now—Mark and [Name] just cleaned up after the mission, bruises hidden under bandages, dust traded for soft clothes. SP//dr is parked in the garage out back, recharging in low-power mode.

[Name] sits cross-legged on the couch in borrowed sweats and one of Mark’s oversized high school T-shirts (it says “Vel Johnson High Eagles: Science Bowl 2nd Place” and she refuses to take it seriously). A heating pad is draped over her shoulders, and she’s nursing a mug of tea with spider bots sleeping peacefully on the floor near her feet.

Mark enters from the kitchen, tossing her a wrapped granola bar. “Protein. Not optional.”

She catches it one-handed. “You’re lucky I like these.”

“I’m lucky you’re not half-robot yourself. The way you tanked that explosion? I thought you glitched.”

[Name] snorts. “Please. You’re one to talk. You went through three walls and still had the nerve to flex after.”

He shrugs, flopping down beside her on the couch with a low grunt. “It was a good flex.”

“Your arm was shaking.”

“Yeah, with power.”

They sit in silence for a moment. Comfortable. Familiar. Debbie clinks plates in the kitchen but doesn’t intrude—just offers a little wave through the open space and a “Dinner’s almost ready, kids.”

Kids.

It settles between them like warmth off the tea mug.

[Name] finally breaks the quiet, her voice softer now. “Didn’t think I’d ever get this again.”

Mark glances over. “What? Dinner?”

She shakes her head, not quite smiling. “Normalcy. Somewhere to crash that doesn’t smell like motor oil and ozone. People who ask if I’m okay... and actually mean it.”

Mark doesn’t answer right away. He just nudges her knee with his. “Well… you’ve got it now. Like I said—little sisters don’t always have to ask.”

She looks at him, eyes narrowing just slightly. “You really gonna keep calling me that?”

He smirks. “Absolutely.”

“Even if I web your room shut?”

“I’ve punched a guy through a volcano. I can handle a few webs.”

“...What if I put stealth mines in your cereal?”

He pauses. “…Okay that’s just cruel.”

A beat.

Then both of them crack up, laughter echoing through the room until even Debbie chuckles softly to herself in the kitchen.

#i love this #crying

191 notes · View notes

nappingnai · 2 months ago

Note

The mark and the variants with a reader that is similar to all might, always being the one who carries the world on their backs, willing to put others first before themselves and always being reckless and throwing their life on the line (especially if the Mark's find out about all might reader injury and how the have a limited time in their buffy form ;3)

HEADCANONS | variants with a s/o who is like all might

INVINCIBLE MASTERLIST | WARNINGS: injury

Mainstream Mark

• Admires you to a fault. You’re like the embodiment of everything he wants to be as a hero—but it also scares him. He knows what it’s like to keep pushing until you break, and he hates seeing you do it to yourself.

• The day he finds out about your injury and time limit, he snaps. He can’t believe you’d smile and keep running into danger while literally burning yourself out.

• After that, he’s always lingering nearby, timing your fights, ready to intervene the moment you weaken. You jokingly call him your “backup”, but he just holds you tighter every night.

• “You can’t carry everything forever… so let me help. Please.”

Viltrumite Mark

• Thinks you’re insane. Heroic? Selfless? Always fighting to the point of collapse? In Viltrumite culture, you’d be a joke—and yet, watching you… he starts to understand why humans admire you.

• When he finds out about your condition, he’s furious—but not at you. He’s angry at the world for using someone like you up.

• “They don’t deserve you. You’re wasting your power on people who’d let you die without blinking.”

• He starts pushing you toward a selfish kind of love, whispering that the galaxy doesn’t need a martyr. He needs you. Alive. His.

Sinister Mark

• Thinks it’s hot. No, really—he’s weirdly obsessed with how far you’re willing to go for others. You’re the sun in his dark, twisted little world.

• But when he discovers the limit to your powered form? His obsession turns violent. He starts sabotaging your missions just to keep you safe. He’ll kill anyone who tries to push you too hard.

• “If you can’t stop hurting yourself… I’ll stop everyone else.”

• He becomes possessive, always smirking, saying things like, “What good is being a symbol if you’re dead? Stick with me, and you’ll never have to break again.”

Full Mask Mark

• Quietly watches you. He rarely speaks, but he’s always there when you fall. You pretend you’re fine—bloodied, exhausted—but he knows. He knows you’re dying a little more every time.

• One day, you collapse mid-battle before your time limit’s up, and he just snaps a villain’s spine without a word.

• Afterward, he forces you into hiding. No arguments. He’ll sit by your bed like a silent warden, brushing hair from your face, eyes unreadable.

• You once asked if he was angry with you. His only answer?

“You are the only light I see. I won’t let it go out.”

Omni Mark

• Judges you hard at first. He sees your sacrifices as foolish—human fragility dressed up as nobility.

• But when he learns the truth of your condition, something in him cracks. Because now he sees you not as weak, but as limitless in spirit.

• “You’ve already done more than most Viltrumites ever could… Why are you still trying to save them?”

• He tries to convince you to stop. If not for yourself, then for him. He’ll take care of the world. You don’t have to die for it.

Lensless Mark

• Unhinged approval. You’re his favorite kind of chaos—a beautiful, self-destructive mess wrapped in heroism. He flirts with you mid-battle, even as you cough up blood.

• When he finds out about the injury and time limit, he loses it. “So you’re telling me… every time I watch you fly off, it could be the last time?”

• Cue toxic levels of clinginess. He’ll start fights just to keep you close. Keeps joking about “locking you up for your own good”—you think he’s joking.

• “You say you’re carrying the world? Well guess what, sweetheart—I’m carrying you. Deal with it.”

Mohawk Mark

• Loud. Protective. Explosive. You’re the only thing that makes him slow down. He calls you “Hero” in that half-teasing, half-reverent way that masks how terrified he is.

• The moment he finds out about your injury and limited time in your powered form, he loses it. “You’ve been going all-out like that for HOW LONG?!”

• His temper flares like wildfire—at you, at your enemies, at himself for not seeing it sooner.

• He hates how you smile through it. That “I’m fine” mask makes his blood boil. He’d rather you cry, scream—anything but lie to him with your eyes.

• “You’re not the symbol of peace. You’re my person. Let someone else be the hero for once. Just let me take the damn hit.”

Shiesty Mark

• Too slick for his own good. Flirts like breathing, always calling you “muscle babe” or “Captain Heroic” with a smirk.

• You’d think he wouldn’t take your injury seriously—but the moment he learns you’re dying every time you power up?

• Gone is the smugness. His voice gets quiet. Still teasing, but softer, like he’s mourning you while you’re still alive.

• “So that’s the game, huh? You give your life away one second at a time while the world claps for it.”

• He starts pulling strings, making deals, stealing tech—anything to stretch your time limit or heal your injuries.

• “I ain’t gonna lose you, sweetheart. I steal everything I want… and right now, I want you breathing.”

Maskless Mark

• Raw. Honest. Intense. Without the mask, everything he feels is written across his face—and what he feels when he sees you push past your limits is pain.

• He never says it outright, but he starts stepping in early during battles, taking hits you normally would.

• He studies your body language like a science—he knows exactly when your strength dips, when your breaths shorten, when the time limit’s creeping up.

• When you finally explain the truth, he just stares at you—shocked, devastated… and then angry. Not rageful like others, but hurt.

• “You smile like nothing’s wrong. But I’ve been watching you fall apart this whole time, haven’t I?”

• From then on, he’s your shield. No negotiations. He’ll bleed before he ever lets you hit that limit again.

• “Let me be strong for you. You’ve done enough. You’ve done too much.”

307 notes · View notes

nappingnai · 2 months ago

Text

CHERRY BOMB

pairing : mark grayson x fem! reader [ implied childhood friends ]. synopsis : he's whipped — more than the cream on your milkshake. warnings : kinda suggestive. like one swear word. w.c : 2.0k. a/n : i cannot stick to a theme >:( taglist : @vm4879bb-blog @fairii-majii @rayaaa4444 @hihowyoudoin00 @hepdeerness @wadehowl3tt

this is pathetic.

he is pathetic.

william was showing him a song from some new band he discovered and all mark can think about is how this song reminds him of you.

his muse, his reason for living. his heart, it beats for you but it also aches — longs for you like no other. oh how he wishes you'd take the pain away and maybe kiss his heart better, like you kissed his small injuries better when you both were children.

he can't stop thinking about how he'd love to slow dance with you to this song, he's not the best dancer — he'll probably end up stepping on your foot, but if it makes you laugh, he'd make a fool out of himself every time, just to see your lips curl up into that beautiful smile and hear the sweet sound of your laughter again and again, the thought makes him smile out of nowhere, making william roll his eyes fondly.

“you with me lover boy?”

right, even william knows, but it's not because he's his best friend, hell almost everyone knows, it would be hard not to with the way his eyes go all soft, slowly blinking— pupils turning into hearts and a soft smile tugs at his lips at the mere mention of your name.

he's so far gone for you.

“what- yes ‘course i’m with you,” he clears his throat, lying through his teeth.

“and i’m not gay.”

it can’t be that obvious, surely.

he hears his phone buzz with the ringtone he’s set for you and immediately reaches for it, grinning like an idiot — a very lovesick one at that, happy you’ve agreed on going to the newly opened cafe with him.

it really is that obvious huh?

he's trying not to run his hand through his hair for the nth time as he waits for you nervously at the cafe, this isn't even a date — he would probably pass out from his nerves alone if it was.

he straightens up when he smells your perfume, the scent lingering in the air, ah hear you come. he quickly glances at his phone screen, making sure his hair isn't a mess or anything.

“hi,” you greet him, your voice — a melody he's grown incredibly fond of, it's something that has helped him so much when he was at rock bottom, it brings him unimaginable joy, yet it also sometimes makes him want to rip his ears off — that sweet voice of yours is also pure torture everytime he realizes he can't have you, he can't possibly risk your precious friendship, that's selfish. and he tries to convince himself everyday that he isn't selfish, but he's not so sure anymore.

“you okay?” oh right he hasn't responded yet, too busy staring at your face, the one he wants to kiss all over.

“yeah sorry . . . just you know,” he leans in, heartbeat increasing, “had another bad guy to take care of,” he whispers, eyes darting to your lips for a split second.

he shouldn't have done that.

not because you're one of his best friends, no, but because now he can't get the thought of pressing his lips against yours out of his head.

although he'd argue he'd end up thinking about that one way or the other.

“ah i see, hope it didn't tire you out too much”

“nah i’m good,” he flashes you a small smile, a kiss from you would be nice though, he thinks.

as you two decide what to order, his gaze keeps drifting to you — the way the light plays across your features, the subtle furrow of your brows as you contemplate what sweet treat to order, eyes focused on the menu unlike him.

and then a strand of your hair falls out of place right on your face. just great, now he has to hold himself back from tucking it behind your ear. it's like the universe is torturing him, but he'll take any of this torture as long as you promise to remain by his side, as long as you're here, he's happy.

he's too busy daydreaming about you so when the waiter asks for his order it takes him a while to snap back to his senses, quickly saying the name of the first thing his eyes land on.

“matcha?” you ask a little surprised as the waiter heads off to get your orders going.

he doesn't like matcha.

“uh yeah, thought i’d give it a try again, give it another chance” maybe you should give him a chance too.

okay he's getting a little carried away, but he can't really help himself. not when it comes to you.

as conversation flows easily between you two — packed with familiar banter, teasing and inside jokes, a warm fuzzy feeling settles inside his chest curling up around his heart, his heart overflowing with love for you.

but will you ever know the extent of his love?

he'd rather not think about that bitter thought while you're excitedly rambling about some new show you watched — god you're adorable, he wants to keep you in his pocket. he's all smiles and giggles, a soft flush adorning his cheeks which can be chalked up to the warm weather but, he knows better.

and maybe you should know better too and then kiss him.

he really wants to kiss you.

the softness in his eyes quickly disappears the second the waiter comes back with your drinks and food, muttering some flirty remark towards you.

his gaze bores holes into the back of the waiter's head, eyes only leaving him when he's out of his sight. he knows he has no right — you're not even his, but he can't bear the thought of you being with someone else, it makes him sick.

“go on, try it. i wanna see the look of pure disgust on your face,” you chuckle, taking a sip of your sweet strawberry milkshake.

oh right the matcha.

he gulps nervously, taking a small sip of his matcha, immediately regretting it, mark has always been expressive and by the looks of it, you were right.

“good?” you jokingly ask. he huffs amusedly, “so good,” he says sarcastically, playing along.

he's thankful you ordered him a piece of his favorite type of cake without him asking, you know him so well — or maybe you don't, considering you don't know how he'd give up everything he has just to be with you.

“this is really good,” he says absentmindedly as he savors the taste of the sweet treat, hands itching to wipe the small amount of whipped cream on the corner of your lips.

“really? can i have a bite?”

a bite? you've got to be joking. you know you can have the whole thing right? you can have him — his soul that he's sure is intertwined with yours with the way his chest aches when you're not around and his heart, it's already yours. it's always been yours, was never his to begin with. you can have the world, he'd give it to you to the best of his ability, but sure you can take a bite.

he can't stop himself from smiling when he sees you enjoying a piece from his cake, he wants to see you happy, always. he doesn't like when you get sad, especially when he gets hurt, he always feels so guilty afterwards.

you even feed him a generous spoonful of your cake, which he happily accepts. he wonders if the other people in this cafe think you two are a couple — the thought makes him awfully giddy.

the matcha grows on him, or maybe it's the fact your presence alone is enough to distract him to down the whole thing easily.

“you want my cherry?” you ask, already plucking it from on top of the whipped cream on your milkshake, he doesn't protest against your offer, instead boldly leans in — hoping you'll feed it to him.

and you do, his lips brush ever so slightly against your fingers but it's enough to send a shiver down his spine.

the action is oddly intimate, especially with the way you're holding his gaze as he eats the sweet cherry, his body feels like it's on fire.

what kind of foreplay is this? he's gotta ask william.

“thanks,” he manages to mutter out, his voice cracking slightly.

he watches as you finish your milkshake, lips wrapped around the straw-

woah not there mark! he holds his thoughts back from straying into that direction as he finishes his remaining food.

he sheepishly tells you about the whipped cream around the corner of your lips, handing you a tissue — he wants to wipe it off with his thumb, well he really wants to kiss it but he's not that bold. although sometimes he wishes he was.

but then maybe you two wouldn't have gotten this close to begin with — so he'll be himself, the mark you know, hoping one day he works up the courage to earn the right to shower you with all the affection and love in the world.

he smugly grins when you try to pay at the counter and then come to know he's already paid in advance.

“mark.”

“you can pay next time.”

“that's what you always say!”

“hm do i?” he makes a show of thinking long and hard, rubbing his chin and all as he gets a coffee for william — as he'd insisted mark get him something from the recently opened cafe in the area.

the conversation and shared laughter dies down as you two make your way out, it's time to leave and part ways, mark has been dreading this the second he got here.

don't leave me.

his chest tightens with unspoken words and affection when you bid him goodbye, with a hug. he doesn't want to pull away — arms lingering around for awhile even when you start pulling away.

don't go. please.

even though the words remain unspoken — his eyes speak volumes, even the feelings he's too scared to utter out loud.

and as the wind blows, rustling your hair — you look back at him one last time with that damn smile, he hopes the next time you two are together, it ends with you not leaving but instead in his arms, where you belong.

or well at least where he thinks you belong — he's getting ahead of himself again isn't he?

he smiles back although it doesn't quite reach his eyes, watching you walk away until you're out of his sight.

he's left there again, he ends up taking a sip from the coffee to distract himself but it's bitter — almost bitter like the thought of never having you, never having you as his.

he sighs, god he's hopeless. better get back to william’s before his coffee gets all cold.

“you look like someone just drained the life out of you,” william teases him as mark hands him the coffee that's still somewhat warm, “don't tell me a vampire attacked you,” he jokes but mark’s mind is somewhere else — you.

he already misses you.

“quit moping around and spill the tea already,” william groans playfully, feigning annoyance as he sips on his coffee.

“i’m such an idiot.”

“tell me something new mark.”

“not helping.”

william scoots his chair closer to mark on the bed, “did you mess up?”

“no, i don't think so.”

“the why do you look like a sad kicked puppy?”

“i’ll never have-

“oh my god not this again,” william sighs loudly, “we've been through this likea gazillion times mark.”

“what kind of foreplay is cherry eating?”

william almost spits out his coffee. “i beg your finest fucking pardon?”

and as mark rambles about you, reliving the memories of you sure makes him shy and giddy — he tells his best friend, “she asked if i wanted her cherry, and-”

“oh you do, real bad,” william snickers knowingly in a suggestive tone which makes mark pause and raise a brow.

“oh my god you are so dense, and you missed the perfect opportunity to flirt,” william rubs his temples like an overworked stressed parent.

“how did you know i want-”

oh.

that kind of cherry.

“william!” mark is quick to throw a pillow at his friend — embarrassed and cheeks starting to heat up, a blush creeping up his neck.

“oof,” william lets out a surprised noise, “hey you're not denying it,” he teases — earning another smack with a pillow from the half viltrumite.

“shut up.”

“you're still not denying the idea, real subtle there.”

“i hate you.”

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nappingnai · 2 months ago

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Hi mintyys . Can you please do holder of the ladybug and black cat miraculous reader . Hero name lady noire , just fanfics of the invincible variants relationship with reader with has both miraculouses . It can be fluff, angst , and anything really . Please and thank you 😊 🙏.

HEADCANON | s/o who is ladynoire

INVINCIBLE MASTERLIST

Prisoner Mark x Lady Noire!Reader

• You were sent to interrogate him. He ended up interrogating you—with questions like, “Why do you still fight for people who would lock me away?”

• He’s chained up, but you feel more like you’re the one caught when he stares too long.

• He’s fascinated by your Miraculouses and how they operate. “One for life, one for death… poetic, isn’t it?”

• You used Cataclysm to destroy the collar controlling his powers once, just to prove you could. He hasn’t stopped looking at you like you’re divine punishment since.

• He calls you Redemption, because he thinks you’re the only one who might still believe he’s salvageable.

• You keep your yoyo close and your Lucky Charms closer—because if he escapes, he’s coming for you first, and you’re not sure what he’ll do when he gets there.

• “You keep fixing things, Kitty. Maybe one day you’ll try fixing me.”

Mohawk Mark x Lady Noire!Reader

• He is so cocky and flirty it’s unreal. He calls you “my miraculous mami” unironically.

• He saw your Cataclysm once and tried to outdo it with pure destruction. It… backfired.

• He wears a scratched-up piece of your yoyo string as a bracelet like it’s a trophy.

• You pretend to hate him. He knows you’re lying.

• He once tried to fuse with your Miraculouses. He got shocked so hard he passed out. You laughed for days.

• His ideal date is sky-diving off a Viltrumite warship and making out mid-freefall.

• Your sass bounces off his ego like bullets off armor. He lives for it.

• “You’re chaos in lace, babe. Let’s wreck the universe together and fix it prettier.”

Maskless Mark x Lady Noire!Reader

• He hates how much he wants you. You’re powerful, unpredictable, and magical—everything he can’t control.

• You love making eye contact with him mid-fight and blowing a kiss before you vanish.

• He once asked what would happen if he took your Miraculouses. You smiled and said, “Try it.”

• There’s a quiet war between you—his brutality vs your balance. But in the rare moments of peace, he stares at you like he sees a life he could’ve had.

• Your powers make him feel something again. That pisses him off.

• The last time you kissed, buildings crumbled. He still hears the echo of your laugh in his dreams.

• “You’re not saving me, Lady Noire. But if I fall, I want you to be the one who ends it.”

Shiesty Mark x Lady Noire!Reader

• You don’t trust him—and you’re right not to. He lies like he breathes.

• But damn if he’s not fun. You’ve played pranks together that Cecil still hasn’t recovered from.

• He calls your yoyo “that yo-yo of mass destruction” and keeps asking if he can borrow it “for science.”

• He absolutely stole both your Miraculouses once while you were asleep. You woke up to him wearing them and striking poses in the mirror.

• “I’m Lady Shiesty now. Go back to bed, kitten.”

• You nearly ended him. He loved it.

• Your Cataclysm makes him giddy. Your Lucky Charms make him pout. “Ugh, hope? Gross.”

• The sexual tension is off the charts. So is the mutual sabotage.

• You once trapped him in a magical cage. He picked the lock with a smirk and said, “Kinky.”

Mainstream Mark Grayson x Lady Noire!Reader

• Mark is in awe of how Lady Noire balances creation and destruction. Your powers both fascinate and scare him a little—especially how easily you can fix or end something.

• He loves swinging with you through the city, even if he can’t match your acrobatics. You two are the ultimate power couple.

• After fights, he watches you purify akumatized villains or unlucky creations with your Ladybug power—and is always stunned by how compassionate you are.

• He teases you endlessly about your puns, but secretly loves them.

• You often fix collateral damage from Mark’s battles with your Lucky Charm ability, and he always apologizes with takeout and forehead kisses.

• You once joked about Cataclysm-ing his sandwich when he stole your fries. He never stole food again.

Viltrumite Mark x Lady Noire!Reader

• He’s obsessed with how powerful you are, and he doesn’t like that your powers are so… mystical. He can’t quantify or control them, and it eats at him.

• He tried to test your Cataclysm once. You used it on the ground beneath him and sent him through six floors of concrete. He never tested it again.

• Lowkey possessive. He’s always telling other Viltrumites you’re his miraculous wielder.

• You can see the internal struggle in him—your Lucky Charm shows you how to reach the good left in him, but it’s a painful road.

• He tried to take your Miraculouses off once while you were asleep. You woke up and slapped him with your staff. His pride has never healed.

• Despite the power struggle, he’s genuinely soft when he catches you resting mid-mission. He wraps his cape around you like a blanket and mutters about keeping you safe “no matter what.”

Sinister Mark x Lady Noire!Reader

• He thinks your power is a beautiful contradiction—hope and destruction, creation and chaos.

• He loves the way you laugh before dropping into battle, like it’s all a game.

• You two go on rooftop dates after massacres (you stopping him, of course), and he mocks your hopeful nature while secretly loving it.

• He keeps trying to convince you to “Cataclysm the whole world with him and rebuild it better.”

• You’ve slapped him with your yoyo more times than you can count.

• Still, he never touches your Miraculouses. He respects them. He respects you.

• He’s the type to leave dead roses on your pillow with a cryptic love note—then grin when you scream at him.

• “Come on, kitten. Let’s end the world together. Then you can fix it.”

Full Mask Mark x Lady Noire!Reader

• He’s always watching you from the shadows, fascinated by the balance you hold within.

• He once tried to kidnap you mid-fight with an akumatized villain. You Lucky-Charmed a mirror, deflected his punch, and peaced out.

• After that, he became even more obsessed.

• “You’re the only one who sees both sides… creation and destruction… just like me.”

• He calls you his little miracle, and no one knows if it’s a compliment or a warning.

• He steals your staff sometimes just to make you chase him.

• You keep threatening to Cataclysm his suit off. He dares you every time.

Omni Mark x Lady Noire!Reader

• You terrify him, but he pretends you don’t.

• “Magic isn’t real,” he growls. You drop a Lucky Charm in front of him that perfectly solves the battle he’s in. “…Okay maybe it is.”

• He tries to make you join the Viltrumite cause, claiming you’d be a perfect goddess of order.

• You laugh in his face and say, “I already am divine, thank you.”

• He finds your defiance irritating but admirable.

• Eventually, he stops trying to control you and starts flying beside you.

• Your dynamic becomes reluctant allies in battle—until one day, he saves your life and gets Cataclysmed in return. He calls it fair.

Lensless Mark x Lady Noire!Reader

• Your dynamic? Absolute chaos. Puns, flirting, and explosions.

• “Wanna see what happens when we Cataclysm someone’s underwear?” “Mark, no—wait, actually, yes.”

• He’s always poking your yoyo like it’s a toy. You once tied him to a tree with it.

• Loves your sass. Tries to match it, fails, and just resorts to fake crying.

• You’re the only person who can match his insanity and still win a fight.

• He calls you “Kittybug” because “Lady Noire is too serious and you’re not that serious.”

• He steals kisses in battle, mid-punch.

• Once said, “If we fused, we’d be unstoppable. Or a war crime.”

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