#dark!mark grayson

You were asleep, exhausted and truly spent. Mark had worked your body to its max, bending it to his will for hours. 

And now, you were getting well-deserved rest. Curled up in your bed at Guardians HQ. 

Mark had left over an hour ago, set on reporting the incident to Cecil… Just in case it happened on a larger scale.

A mistake. He should've stayed.

Rex Sloan did not consider himself a gentleman. At all. 

He slept around, cursed, had cheated on multiple women, left a mess, never held the door open for anyone, and considered himself a connoisseur of adult films… But this?

This was crossing a line even he was unsure he was comfortable with. 

But it didn't matter. He had no control over his body… over his urges.

And you were there, so pretty and vulnerable and naked, and he could fucking smell you.

He was out of his mind, screaming at himself when he crept into your room. On autopilot, nails scratching on the door and any furniture he could find as a last resort to stop himself. 

But here he was, looking over your bed like some sort of predator. You were blissfully asleep below him, sheets tangled around your flushed body. You'd rolled onto your stomach, blankets twisted around your legs. 

And Jesus fucking Christ. 

Your puffy pink pussy fluttered at him, swollen and still dripping from Mark’s abuse. It was calling to him. 

He was biting his tongue so hard that blood filled his mouth enough to choke on. Sex pollen. Why did it have to be sex pollen when he didn't have anyone available to fuck?

Both Eve and Kate were history and wouldn't touch him with a ten-foot pole… Rae and Monster Girl were on an extraction mission. So there was just you, unassuming and deliriously tempting, you. 

And he knew you were Mark’s girl, and he knew Grayson would kill him. 

“God, forgive me,” Rex murmured, hands moving to his belt. Before he knew it, he was in his boxers only, leaning over you with one palm holding him up. Rex grimaced as he brought his other hand to your sopping cunt, spreading it gently with his thumb and forefinger. Rex swore filthily as a string of thick, creamy arousal stuck to your lips as he pushed you apart. 

“Fuck, Mama,” He groaned, his cock growing painfully hard. “So sorry—so, so, sorry.” 

He huffed, palming his aching member and hissing at the relief. He was leaking into his boxers, sticky and wet. He wanted nothing but to sink into that perfect, tight, messy pussy and fill it with load after load of—

“God, no, I can't—” Rex whined, shoving himself away from you. It was so violent and abrupt that he found himself slipping on his own suit and plummeting to the floor.

His body landed with enough force to shake the entire room, the sound reverberating through the metal walls. 

Rex blinked, ignoring the blooming pain in his backside. Not as you shot up, eyes wide and hair messy and still very naked. Intoxicatingly naked. Rex blinked, eyes flying to yours. You’d spotted him. 

You froze, becoming brutally aware of your lack of clothing, as well as Rex’s

“What are you…” You began slowly, until you recognized the familiar dilation of his pupils and the flush upon his skin. The erratic breathing. You released a shaky breath. “Rex…?”

He shuddered upon hearing his name pass through your bruised lips. 

“I wish I could help it, babe, I really do,” He lamented, sweat beading above his brow. You began scooting backward in your bed, hoping for some distance. 

“Rex can’t you—“

You yelped as he leapt onto the bed, pinning you down by your forearms. The force of his body knocked the air from yours, his skin feverish and moist. 

“Can’t,” he groaned, diving into the crook of your neck. Your core tingled at the sensation, at the press of his cock against you. “No one else is here, and I’m going fuckin’ crazy.” 

You stayed still, formulating a plan as he began rutting against you, ignoring the sparks sizzling down your spine. He was big. Not as big as Mark, but he was pretty much there… which was strange considering he wasn’t that much taller than you…

Your eyes grew wide as he swooped an arm under your right leg, hiking it up and pressing it against your chest. 

“Gonna treat you real good, baby, I promise,” He murmured, his heavy gaze locked on your cunt. And even if a rush of heat whirled through you, you realized your chance to escape had come. 

Rearing that raised leg back, you kicked him in the dead center of his chest, sending him flailing back on the bed. 

You expected him to go flying. 

You did not expect white-hot pain to rip up your heel and ankle. You shrieked, back bowing at the sensation. What the?? 

You barely gave the pain any thought as you forced yourself to your feet, limping slightly as you neared the door. 

You found yourself off balance, tripping and falling into the scattered pieces of furniture around the room. You slammed against the wall beside the bedroom door, brows furrowed in confusion. What was up with you?!

You turned to find Rex back on his feet, eyes darkened with lust and body glistening in a sheen of sweat. 

“I really am sorry. But I can’t stop—“

“Until you fuck something, yeah, I know,” you finished, sighing. Becoming a sex toy was not on your yearly checklist. And while you didn’t mind the two persons who were affected—and also what they wanted to do to you—you did mind keeping the ability to walk tomorrow. Plus, you were pretty sure Mark wouldn’t enjoy walking out on his new girlfriend being pounded by his best friend.

Rex stumbled forward once, regaining your attention. Twice. Before finally looking at you, eyes pleading. 

“Run.” 

You did. It was all you could do, as it turned out. 

Mark’s come, still sloshing around in your womb, was thick with the aphrodisiac. It had seeped into your bloodstream, effectively rendering your powers null and void. In hopes of slowing you and incapacitating you… for further breeding. 

So, no super strength or speed or fucking flight—

“Jesus Christ,” you hissed, jumping as Rex appeared down the hall, only twenty feet away. You pushed yourself into a sprint, buck ass naked, gritting your teeth and looking for something—anything—to aid you. 

Nobody was here! How was that even possible! There was always someone here?!

You angrily pushed that thought aside and kept running.

Maybe you would’ve made it out of HQ. It wouldn’t have helped, you realized later. You would’ve been alone in the Arctic, freezing to death. 

You also realized you’d underestimated the aphrodisiac. It might’ve numbed your powers, but it only increased Rex’s. 

You’d made it to the monitor room in HQ, the main hangar. You’d had your plan formulated. Your lungs were burning and legs aching, but at least you—

You screamed as you were tackled, a mass of muscle pinning you to the cold metal floor. 

You squirmed, trying desperately to catch your breath. 

Rex was ravenous, frantically hoisting your hips up while one hand pressed your face into the floor. You choked as the chill shocked your bare pussy. 

“…Rex,” You coughed, feeling the warmth of him pressed against your ass. 

“Yeah, sweetheart, I know,” He called out apologetically, his thumb massaging your hip. 

And you knew you were supposed to fight back. You knew, deep down, that you weren’t supposed to be as wet as you were. 

Rex was your friend—that was it. One of your best friends. 

And maybe you’d thought about him that way once or twice, but this? You would’ve never expected it. 

And yet, here he was, pinning you down to the floor in the middle of HQ, on his knees as he lined himself up with you. His leaking cock nudged through your folds, and you hissed. Both in pleasure and in pain. You were brutally reminded of what Mark had done only a few hours earlier. 

Rex leaned over, pressing blisteringly hot kisses down the length of your spine. And you mewled—yes, mewled at the sensation. He ran his hand back up from your tailbone to the base of your neck, furthering your arch. And then he planted his palm between your shoulder blades, the other hand spreading one ass cheek open. 

“So sexy,” He whispered subconsciously, his mushroom tip spearing you gently. Slick had begun dripping down your thighs from the chase and his words and the feeling of him restraining himself from getting lost in your heat. 

“Gonna take care of you, sweetheart, I promise,” He assured, his chin pressed to his chest as he sank into you. And Holy God, the way you sucked him in. Rex threw his head back, gasping at your warmth. “Fuuuuck, mama, just like that.” 

Your eyes rolled back as his hips thrust forward, burying his cock further within you. 

It was bad—this was bad, your brain screamed. This was wrong!! 

And it felt so good. 

His pace was frenzied, small broken whimpers falling from his lips each time his pelvis kissed your skin. 

The air was heavy with sex and sounds of slapping skin, Rex’s balls squelching against your slick as they collided. 

You moaned, broken and raspy, as your core tightened. That coil in your tummy appeared again. You were sore and aching, and you still sang for Rex, your body responding to everything he gave you. 

“God, you look so pretty wrapped around my cock,” Rex growled, accentuating his words with a particularly rough buck of his hips. You cried out, your nails digging into the metal flooring beside your face. 

Dots danced in your vision, your sight and sound wavering as you neared that precipice. You were gasping in pleasure, crying out Rex’s name. 

More, more, more—

You exploded around him, screaming as you came. Pleasure rolled over you and consumed you until you could barely breathe. Rex leaned down behind you, lips grazing your ear. 

“There you go, sexy girl,” He rasped, his hand leaving your shoulder blades to circle your clit and prolong your orgasm until you were near tears. 

“Rex, too much,” you whimpered, hips jerking at the overstimulation. “Too—ahh!” 

You bucked against his chest as he began pounding into you, with renewed vigor. 

“God, Mark is gonna kill me,” Rex moaned, teeth pressed into your back. He wanted to mark you there—claim you. “Don’t know how the fuck I’m gonna tell him.” 

“Guess I’ll make it easy for you, then, huh?” 

You froze, eyes shooting open to see a figure standing ten feet away. You blinked, heart dropping as your vision cleared to reveal Mark. 

Rex spluttered something, jerking up and slowing his thrusting…but not stopping it entirely. 

“Rex!” You squeaked, swatting behind you. The redhead merely whined, as if it were too painful to stop, humping you into the ground. You huffed as Rex put both palms on the back of your shoulders to keep you down. Nearly cutting off your air—definitely stopping any chance of you speaking.

Mark simply watched, arms crossed over his broad chest. He didn’t look the least bit surprised. Nor did he look angry, to your great confusion. 

“Bro,” Rex pleaded, voice raw. “I can’t—I’m so sorry. The fuckin’ dust they used—“ 

Mark’s eyes zeroed in on the spot where Rex left and entered you—on the way, you squeezed his best friend’s cock. 

“You fuck her good, Rex?” 

A chill ran down your spine. Rex choked. 

“…what?” 

Mark took slow, measured steps until he was less than a foot away from the two of you. You could only see his shoes. 

“I said, are you fucking her good? Because if not, then I’d be more than happy to show you how.” 

Shock seized you by the throat and had you finally shimmying away from Rex. You found your voice then. 

“Mark—“

“Quiet,” He barked, one of his hands shooting to hold you down by the back of your neck. You gasped. “I wasn’t talking to you.” 

This was not happening. There was no fucking way this was happening. 

Why the fuck were you only getting wetter? 

Mark joined Rex on his knees, nodding for Rex to slide his hands back to your hips, while he kept you pinned by your neck. 

There was a silence, heavy and electrifying, between the three of you. Everyone was still for a moment. And then? 

Rex rocked against you, so rough that you were knocked forward a few inches. You cried out as Rex repeated the action again, and again, and again, until you were a babbling mess. 

Mark’s thumb petted your jaw lovingly, humming at the sounds you made. The other slipped under your front, teasing and pulling at your pert nipples. 

Soon, Rex reached around to start playing with your clit. 

You were drowning in pleasure, ready to explode all over again. 

“Good girl,” Mark whispered, Rex groaning as you clenched around him from Mark’s dirty words. “Gonna come for us?” 

“Yesyesyesyes,” you slurred, eyes shut in ecstasy. You were floating. You could’ve died happy. 

“Take your thumb, Rex.” 

Your eyes flew open, even through the barreling pleasure. Oh, no. 

“Wait!—“

“Go ahead, take it and play with her little asshole. She loves it.” 

You bucked against Rex and Mark’s hold, yelling in defiance. But your powers were still gone, and theirs were very much still amped. 

So, fighting was fruitless. Mark leaned down, delivering a quick kiss to the shell of your ear, and he adjusted his hold on you. Rex spread your ass further, staring in awe as your tight hole winked at him. 

And then Rex’s warm and wet thumb circled your rim once. Twice. Three times. Before slowly pushing in. 

And you saw stars. 

“Holy fucking shit,” Rex doubled over as you clamped down on him, your body seizing with the intensity of your orgasm. Mark grinned and urged Rex to keep going—as if he’d ever be able to stop. 

You felt fucking incredible—best he’d ever had. He felt on top of the world inside your cunt. Mark was going to have to drag him away from you. 

And he knew that this would be awful the moment the high faded, and he’d feel like shit, and you’d probably destroy him. But, honestly? 

Worth it. 

Eventually, you came back to earth, mouth open lazily while your body slumped of its own accord. Rex and Mark transitioned to holding up rather than keeping you down. 

With a wicked grin, your boyfriend leaned down to your face. 

“Guess I didn’t do a good enough job earlier if you’re drooling for his cock—“

You whimpered, blinking a few times. Rex moaned low at the sight of you so fucked out. He never thought he’d get off to stuff like this. But here he was, about to come from the tears welling in your eyes. 

“Mark, I—“

“Is that what you need, baby?” Mark continued, his thumb tracing over your swollen lips. “Both of our thick cocks stretching you out?” 

You groaned, back arching further against Rex’s hips. Rex watched, enamored. 

“Use your words,” Mark growled, pressing the pad of his finger into your mouth. 

“Please,” you gargled, spit dribbling out of your mouth and onto the floor. Rex felt himself grow sloppy. 

“I can’t hear you,” Mark pressed. 

“Please—please,” you sobbed finally, clenching around Rex once more. “I-I need both your cocks stretching me out!”

And like it was the days mantra, Rex just couldn’t help it. He was choking and groaning low while he spilled into you, filling you until it seeped out of the place where you two were joined. It was hot, heavy, and filthy. 

And he only wanted more. 

“Well, you heard her, Sloan. Stretched out on both our cocks,” Mark chuckled, gaining Rex’s attention as he hoisted you up into his lap. “Better get to it.” 

Rex calmed his racing heart, sucking down lungfuls of oxygen. With a scoff, he pushed his sweaty hair back into a bun before grabbing your thighs and spreading them once more. 

“What our girl wants, our girl gets.” 

Taglist: @gomif0ca @vivian-555 @nishiology @imaginarydreamwanderer A/N: Comments and reblogs and likes are always cherished! Thank you for spending the time with my work!

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Amber Bennett's feet hung limp above the floor, swaying in a slow, silent back-and-forth. You had spent what felt like hours watching her thrash like a salted slug, her legs kicking desperately at the air while her nails uselessly scratched at the gloved forearm squeezing her throat. Now she wasn't moving anymore. She was hanging, her head tilted at an unnatural angle. Saliva mixed with blood from her broken nose dripped down her chin and onto the destroyed floor, forming a small dark puddle.

Her eyes, still wide open, were filled with tears that no longer fell. They stared at some dead point in the ceiling. Lifeless.

Invincible turned his head toward you. Looking directly at your face, he opened his fingers and dropped Amber's body like a trash bag. The dull thud against the floor made your stomach turn.

"I'm sorry..." he said, throwing a quick glance at the corpse lying at his feet. He looked calm. "I didn't want you to see that."

You wanted to vomit. Your heart pounded so hard in your ears you could barely distinguish the screams of terror coming from outside, in the street. Amber's mother was slumped near the door, her neck bent backward at an impossible angle. Her eyes remained open, staring at the ceiling. A trickle of blood ran from the corner of her lips. Unlike Amber, she hadn't had time to suffer. She must have died before she realized what was happening, unlike her daughter who kept fighting until she ran out of air.

You wanted to run, cry, throw yourself at him and rip his throat out with your bare hands for what he'd done to your friend. But your legs wouldn't respond. Your lungs could barely fill with air. You were frozen in front of the monster with the powers of a god.

"Relax, neither Amber nor her mom suffered that much. I tried to make it quick" liar "Don't look at me like that. It was their fault. I told them not to fight but neither of them listened."

"You killed them," you said, unable to look away from your friend's body. The tears you'd been holding back finally spilled. "Both of them."

"They made me do it."

"You strangled Amber until she stopped kicking..."

"Y/N..."

"YOU KILLED THEM!!" You broke completely. You fell to your knees and vomited onto your own hands. You managed to hold his gaze despite the fear you felt. "YOU'RE A MONSTER!!"

"You think I want to do this? You think I enjoy killing my friends? All of this… is a necessary evil" — he sighed deeply and opened his arms, taking in the destruction that stretched beyond this house — "Now Earth is under the Viltrum Empire! You know what that means? No more pointless human wars. No more diseases wiping out entire populations. No more hunger, no more corruption, no more misery. It'll be a utopia! Come on Y/N, imagine it: Viltrumite technology curing cancer in a day, unlimited energy, safe cities where no one goes hungry. Everything will be better. So much better."

"You're killing people!" you screamed, punching the ground. Shards of glass dug into your skin, you barely noticed it. "You're murdering innocent people! People who just wanted to live!"

"They weren't innocent" — he replied with such coldness that the temperature of the place froze you — "They were against change. They're criminals who preferred to keep living in their own miserable little world rather than accept something superior. They had to be eliminated. It's for the greater good."

A monster.

A fucking cruel genocidal monster. How hadn't you seen it before? How could you have been so blind? Now Amber was dead because of you, because you took shelter in her house when Omni-Man and Invincible started destroying Chicago.

You sniffled, your whole body trembling uncontrollably. You didn't even notice the warm dampness spreading between your legs; you had wet yourself. In any other situation it would have been humiliating, if not for how terrified you were.

Your lips were still trembling, you could barely form the words.

"Are you going to kill me too?"

Despite the mask, his expression visibly shifted to something like panic, as if the very idea terrified him more than killing one of his close friends.

You wonder if he killed William too...

"What? No! Of course not! I would never hurt you, sweetheart. Never."

He tried to step closer, but you backed away so quickly you tripped over the debris. He left his hand hanging toward your body, his face wounded.

"Come on, baby... don't do this to me."

"Don't do this to YOU?! ME?! Look at the shit you did!! Look at her!!" You pointed with a trembling hand at the lifeless bodies of both women. "'Greater good,' my fucking ass!! You killed them like dogs!"

"You're upset and I get it" — Mark ran a gloved hand over his mask and yanked it off. He looked tired and somewhat annoyed, but he wasn't going to attack you, at least not yet — "I didn't understand it at first either, you know? I thought my dad was crazy, I even fought him. But then… I saw the truth. Everything my dad said was true. This world was dying on its own. Pollution, people killing each other over stupid nonsense, weak villains and monsters. It would have collapsed much sooner if we hadn't intervened. Now all of this is for the better. Yeah, maybe a few thousand people die… maybe hundreds of thousands. But the ones who survive will live in a world without hunger, without disease, without pain. Without the rich shitting on the poor. Eventually you'll see I'm right."

"I'll NEVER see it!! Go to hell, Mark Grayson!!"

You grabbed a rock from the ground and threw it with all your might. It hit his chest with a pathetic thud. Mark looked down, dusted himself off calmly, and looked back directly into your eyes.

"You will. Eventually." A rumble sounded in the distance as a building collapsed. "Now let's go. This neighborhood will be ashes in less than ten minutes."

"Go where? NO!!" you screamed, backing up until your back hit the cracked wall. "Fuck, no!! Stay away from me!! Don't touch me!"

"I'm not leaving you here to die," he murmured. "You're my girlfriend. I love you and I'm going to protect you, even if I have to do it by force."

The ground trembled as an explosion shook the entire neighborhood. Mark Grayson, the boy you once thought you knew, was gone. Was he ever there? It didn't matter, not when he grabbed you in his arms and bent his legs, leaping through the ceiling like it was paper. Debris and chunks of wood rained down around you as they ascended at full speed over the neighborhood that was now a sea of burning houses that were once homes. Tiny bodies ran through the fire, the streets were rivers of blood and viscera, the place where you grew up was quickly becoming a burning cemetery.

You clung to his suit without meaning to as the world where you were born ceased to exist and one of the monsters that had destroyed it clung to you.

And he was never going to let go.

“Shiiiiiiit,” Mark groaned, pushing your thighs further apart, eyes locked in on the place where you sucked him in. Your pretty pussy was glistening, skirt shoved up, framed by a perfect rip in your tights. Your chest heaved above, back flush against the desk below you—the one you’d been working at only moments ago. 

Mark was a good guy. He was a hero. Being a hero came with a few perks. This was one of the unspoken ones. 

The way women fell to their knees before him. With open mouths and spread legs. You, for example, moaned like a common street whore underneath him. Mark suppressed a laugh as he bucked into your sweet cunt, growling at the sheer tightness. 

Guess your husband didn’t fuck you right, he thought as he glanced at the ring on your left hand. He could fix that, he mused. 

Mark was a good guy, an even better hero. The figure with knives for hands that had tried to rob this place earlier now lay in a heap on the floor, out cold. Light work for Mark, really.

Mark had taken one glance toward your desk, where you’d been cowering underneath, and it was game over. 

He'd heard your breath catch, your heart race, and had smelled the arousal that had gathered in your core. It was too easy, really.

In the smoky haze, he’d flashed his white smile and had dragged you over the top of your desk, pictures and pencils clattering. 

Being balls deep in someone else’s wife was a feeling like no other, Mark thought as he pounded in and out of you. 

You cried and writhed and arched, making those pretty sounds that Mark wished he could memorize and keep with him always. 

Your pussy was so good he almost debated losing the condom. A dumb idea, but if you felt this good now? He couldn't even imagine bagging you raw. 

His hand shot out as his balls began to tighten, fingers locking around your jaw. 

“Look at me,” He growled, his other hand gripping your hip. God, he wasn’t even sure where he wanted to come more. Your face? Maybe smear that mascara… 

Or over your tits, peeking out through the satin blouse you wore. 

But inside that perfect pussy—Jesus Christ. Maybe you and your husband weren’t serious…

You came, because of course you did, whimpering his superhero identity like it was your God.

Invincible, invincible, invincible—

Mark made you come again and again, just for the hell of it, savoring the look in your eye. That dread through the haze. 

Yes, he’d ruined all other men for you. No one would ever be as good as he was. 

He’d done it to many women before, but somehow it didn’t please him like it did now. 

Mark grinned like the devil, leaning over you until his nose brushed yours. 

“This pussy,” he grunted, nudging against that sweet spot inside of you. Tears gathered in your eyes from the delirious sensation. “...Is mine.”

He came a minute later, in the condom for once, imagining he was filling you up. Breeding you. Claiming you as his.

And then he was gone before you could blink, leaving you a mess of clothes and sweat atop the ruined desk. 

Mark was a good man and a great hero. The best there was. But somehow, that didn’t stop him from following you home. From peering into your window as the sun set, seeing the pathetic excuse for a husband you’d tied yourself to.

He found himself eager. And maybe even nervous. Wondering what that piece of shit would do if he saw what Mark had done to you. A part of him wanted your husband to see what had been done to his wife.  Another part was so furious that he breathed the same air as you.  

But Mark was not brash. He did the wise thing. He waited. He waited until the world was silent and dark, where not a soul would hear what he planned to do. 

Mark was a good man.

Or, at least, he tried to be. 

Part two here!

Taglist:@gomif0ca @vivian-555 @nishiology @imaginarydreamwanderer @splodencible @shaniyahinspace @k1nky-fool @poetryearns @riruk4 @bath1lda

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Twenty years passed before you saw the sun, test tubes, and machinery, your only companions in childhood.

You’d been manufactured.

A necessity born out of panic.

They’d made you a weapon of decimation. Strength. Agility. Speed. Brutality. Intelligence.

Only, they’d forgotten to give you a soul. And a heart.

And they’d kept you under a microscope for your entire life.

Mark Grayson didn’t kill Cecil Steadman.

You did.

“The fuck happened here?” Mark hissed, walking through the burning rubble of the lab. Omni Man appeared beside him, his red cape fluttering near the ground beside Mark’s.

“I don’t know,” The Viltrumite stated, eyes narrowed on the impaction sites. They were big. Made by something powerful. Nearly as powerful as a Viltrumite.

Thragg would not be pleased. Mark decided he’d make it his personal mission to find the culprit as he sauntered upon the bloody remains of Anissa.

A slow grin overtook his face as his foot kicked her liver around.

How interesting, he thought.

The rebel bases quickly fell, puny humans once again proving their only usefulness was as target practice. Mark raided every single one of them, however. And that is how he gathered intel on you.

Wonderful, mesmerizing, you. Genetically engineered, fucked up scientific experiment, you. Discovering you’d revolted against your masters made it even better. You didn't give a fuck about the “cause” nor about humans. And? With that fiery spirit you were rumored to have? You would be exquisite to break.

And then he finally found you, in some decrepit warehouse on the East Coast. It took an entire squadron to bring you down.

“Get the fuck away from me!” You hissed, catapulting into the air and twisting until the figure was thrown off of you. You landed on your shoulder, rolling to absorb and spread the impact. You shifted to a crouch immediately, resembling a spider re-preparing itself to strike. You blinked through the rage, find a man—no older than you—staring at you in faint amusement… You could’ve argued it was intrigue.

“It’s you,” he whispered, full lips quirking to the side. The wickedness lurking behind that smirk made even your blood run cold.

“Listen, buddy, you’ve got three fucking seconds to explain who the fuck you are and why you attacked me—“

The man groaned, and you assumed he was rolling his eyes. Gone was the amusement and the intrigue.

“You’re no fun,” He drawled, nostrils flaring. “I’m Mark.”

A beat passed, your expression unchanging. That seemed to anger this, ‘Mark,’ which in turn thrilled you.

“Mark Grayon,” He continued flatly, his yellow cape fluttering in the breeze. Your eyes widened microscopically. No, it couldn’t be. Was it?

Mark’s mouth twitched as he watched the realization bloom across your face.

“Yes,” He grinned. “I’m the entire reason for your existence.”

Mark Grayson, the Viltrumite who had won the Earth’s trust and then crushed it in his iron fist. Someone so cruel, he was more well known by the title, “Sinister” than anything else. Cruelty and malice had been woven into his blood and stitched into his psyche by an even more twisted father.

Legend had it that they peeled rebels apart for fun, seeing how long humans could last without their skin, kidneys, or jaws. Legend also told of a crypt where they’d hidden Debbie Grayson. A place where Omni-Man both kept and tortured his once-wife, now pet.

If she even was alive.

Unlikely.

And for the first time in a long time, you remembered the bitter, metallic taste of fear.

“I’m here to collect you,” Mark purred, head cocking like a vulture, beginning to circle you. “It’s a bad look for the underlings to possess such a weapon. Tell me, just how did Cecil do it? How’d he create something that could kill a Viltrumite?” You barely caught the genuine question in his tone, the hint of unease. “ I’d ask him myself, but he appears to be missing.”

“I killed him.”

Siinster froze, the room going quiet with the admission. His gaze, tinged with disbelief, weighed you down.

“Bullshit.”

You tried not to bristle, swallowing the rage that fueled your powers. You instead merely shook your head, rocking on your heels to relieve some of the tension in your body.

“Believe what you want, grayson. This isn't my fight and never was. So leave me the fuck alone.”

Sinister grinned at that, head cocking to the side as he hissed.

“See, little one, can't do that. Can't have you roaming free, a nuclear weapon like you at anyone’s disposal.”

Something in your chest went cold and slimy, your stomach dropping. Shit, shit, shit.

“And even if that weren't the case. I've already laid my claim.” his eyes began to glow. “You're mine.”

You took down four Viltrumites before they finally subdued you.

Sinister watched you with an unparalleled glee, basking in the way you fought and tore and decimated.

A mighty prize indeed.

At some point, you did falter, though. You fell to Conquest and Kregg. One, folding your arms behind your back and lifting you off the ground, the other with their hand so deep in your intestines, Mark was sure you'd not feel it there.

“Get off me! Get—”

Your wailing stopped as Conquest slammed you face-first into the ground, skull cracking as you lost consciousness.

“You should tear her apart, burn her body, and be done with it,” Kregg growled, spitting on you as he stalked away. Mark ignored him, beginning to prowl toward your prostrate form. Conquest stared down at you darkly, gaze ravenous.  

Mark knew it was beneath him to get jealous, and yet the burning bitterness within him had him growling toward the behemoth.

Back off.

Conquest merely smirked at Sinister before stalking off to slake his thirst elsewhere. Already, your body was knitting itself back together, repairing your insides and healing the hematoma Mark could sense in your brain. But it was slow. Good.

Mark barely noticed the slaves that filed in on either side of him. He was far too busy drinking you in, every curve and muscle luring him in.

“My lord,” one of the creatures beside him began, head dipped and voice low. Mark’s mouth quirked as he opened his palm, a blade and a syringe placed there.

He then knelt down, brushing your hair to one side, eyes catching on your pulsing carotid artery. God, he wanted to feast there, having you wailing under him as you fought.

Sinister ignored the sudden ache in his cock, fingers slipping under the satiny feel of your suit just above your shoulder. And he tugged, the fabric splitting like tissue, until your upper arm was naked. Pretty, unmarred skin greeted him. A marvelous canvas.

Taking the blade, he bared down on your supple flesh, heart jumping at the sight of ruby droplets budding from the slice. He’d cut deep, probably deeper than necessary. Sinister nearly shuddered as the blood began to trickle down your arm, the blade returning to his palm stained with your life essence.

He brought it eye level, marveling in the liquid before he could no longer contain himself, dragging the blade across his tongue.

Pleasure erupted at the coppery taste, Mark moaning as he licked the blade clean. Gods, yes. You were perfect. You were divine, and he couldn't wait to taste more of you.

He steeled himself, reminding himself of the goal. Clearing his throat, he angled the syringe in the cut. Yes, the knife was unnecessary, but who could deny him the theatrics?

He finally injected you with a serum, eyes tracking the nanoscopic particles that would aid in tracking you down should you be stupid enough to run… amongst ensuring a few other perks.

Mark’s eyes ran up and down your body once more, nearly buzzing with wicked excitement, thumb tracing and pressing into that gushing wound. He finally stood, suckling on his thumb, turning to the purple slaves.

“Take her to my quarters. Changed and washed.”

You awoke sometime later, body stiff and aching. You cracked an eyelid slowly, finding yourself atop a large, plain bed. A single white sheet covered you, your head atop a single white pillow. Under that, you found yourself in a simple white linen set. There were no sleeves on the cropped top, and the shorts were more of a suggestion than anything. Swallowing thickly, you turned your attention elsewhere.

The room around you was circular, as was the bed you were in, everything a sleek grey. Lights were embedded in the wall, a low golden beam shining down.

The rest of the room was plain as well, with an arched ceiling and three cloudy glass orbs that supplied more golden light. A grey desk and a low lying settee.

And on that settee?

The one who'd most likely dragged you here. Mark Grayson. Sinister.

The memories came back in a consuming wave. His claim over you, the Earth sending you as a sacrifice, your entire shit show of a life.

A roaring began in your ears, behind your eyes, in your throat. Rage bubbled up inside your chest and expelled through every orifice. Until you no longer felt the lingering pain in your abdomen or scalp. Until you were launching yourself at the Viltrumite, so casually watching you.

You expected to tear him limb from limb. You expected to land on top of him and bite his head off. You did not expect to make it only one step before collapsing to the floor.

You cried out as your body gave out, weak and drained. Everything hurt, down to the very atoms of your being. You felt… empty. Whatever power had existed within your bones had been snuffed out. You were left frail and fragile.

Human.

Slowly, you re-met Sinister’s gaze, horror slackening your jaw. He cocked his head like a predator would, observing you.

“By all means,” he whispered, brows raising slightly. “Try again.”

“What have you done to me? Let me go.”

Mark Grayson’s full mouth curled upward, chin resting on a palm. He was still in his suit, the canary yellow stained with maroon blood. It made you want to vomit, the sight so stark against the bland room.

“You belong to me, little one.”

“I don't belong to anyone.”

“The Human Alliance agrees otherwise.”

You blinked, not quite sure you'd heard correctly. Mark merely grinned, clicking his tongue.

“In an effort to save your pathetic planet, the human leaders gathered and offered the only thing they could.”

You waited. Mark raised his eyebrows.

“You. For us to breed and break.” His eyes darkened in delight. “They'd let all of us fuck you. Over and over till you were nothing but a bloody husk just so they'd survive and be sub-par forever.”

You eyed him warily, clenching your hands into fists so he wouldn't see them tremble. But from the way his eyes narrowed in amusement, you were sure he'd noticed.

Sinister gave you a lazy smile as he reclined in his seat.

“On your knees.”

Your disbelief turned to a grimace, then to a snarl. This man was fucking insane. With a shaky exhale, you spat on the floor.

“I won't let you rape me.”

His voice caressed your spine and dissolved into your skin like melting butter.

“Who said anything about rape?”

Your breath caught in your throat, the words eerily resembling a death toll.

“On your knees.”

It was different this time. The way he said it, or maybe the look he gave, or maybe even the distance he was from you. You weren't sure exactly what it was.

But suddenly, you found yourself falling, knees knocking against the hardwood floor. And your lips parted, jaw dropping as your body moved on its own. You grunted, desperately trying to stand. But, fuck, it was no use.

Tears of frustration began to bud in your eyes. No, no, this wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening.

A glance upward confirmed your worst fears.

He was somehow controlling you.

Sinister watched you silently, eyes gleaming. Slowly, he extended a palm, making a come-hither motion with his fingers.

“Crawl to me.”

Your teeth were bared, jaw clenched so hard you feared it might crack. But you couldn't stop it. You were crawling, body responding to Sinister’s will.

You were going to kill him and carve that fucking smirk right off his face. You were growling as you fought against whatever serum coursed through you.

And you noticed, the closer you got, the hotter your skin became. Warm at first, and then feverish, as if someone had lit a fire inside of you. Soon you hissed each time your skin brushed against the floor, the chill a shock to your system.

Other things began to shift as well. Less than ten feet away from Mark, you felt your body begin to grow light. A tingling ran down your spine, curling around your bones and settling deep within your core. And sweat broke out across your skin as well as a different kind of slickness, this kind between your thighs. Until your set was a second skin against you.

You wanted to scream, throat raw without even having said a word.

“What’s…” you hissed, crying out as a horrible cramp surged through your stomach. “What’s happening… to me?”

Sinister was nothing short of smug, watching you down the bridge of his nose.

Your cunt pulsed, breasts heavy and nipples pebbled. You all but sobbed as another, even stronger, cramp shot through you.

Terrifying thoughts circled in your mind. Thoughts of teeth and tongue and fingers. A flash of Mark’s mouth, his plump lips suckling bruises into your flesh. The image of his hard, aching cock thrusting deep into your—

No, no, no!

You whimpered, nails digging into the wood. Sinister cleared his throat, and you met his gaze through tear-coated lashes.

“You, little one, are going into heat.”

A/N: more to come!

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He’d done his waiting. He’d paid his dues. He was the greatest superhero on the fucking planet, for crying out loud. Truly, no one was above him. Mark considered himself a hero, and to be treated less than such was near insanity. Who the hell were they to tell him no? Who the hell were they to keep him from his prize? No, he wouldn’t stop—not when it came to you.

You’d been a friend from school, distant but familiar. Mark had known you his whole life. Well…

Known of you.

Until his dad went crazy and destroyed nearly all of downtown Chicago. Or, for the people who knew him not as Invincible, “Mark's dad, who blew up in a freak accident.”

You were among the first to visit after Mark was discharged from the hospital, on his doorstep with flowers and comics.

He’d never known you liked Seance Dog. Mark's mother had let you in with a soft smile, taking the flowers to put in water.

You’d barely spoken to Mark that day, a little intimidated by the thought of being in his bedroom “alone” for too long. You were shy, innocent, and blushed at almost anything. Mark had never noticed how pretty your eyes were before that day.

You didn’t sit down. No, you didn’t want to convey an inappropriate message.

Of course, that only intrigued Mark. He’d begun wondering if a man had ever made you come, probably not, from the tension you held in your spine. You’d probably never known real relief. He’d then wondered what it would be like to fold you under him, watch you fall apart under his fingers.

He’d wondered if he’d like watching that… Doing that to you...

After two hours, you’d finally opened up, sitting in his desk chair across the room from his bed. You were brilliant, charismatic, and hilarious… and he’d never noticed it before. You were just so damn shy.

Mark would’ve been lying if he’d said he hadn’t teased you with dark stares and light innuendoes to see your reactions. But he’d also fallen headfirst into a riveting conversation. You were incredibly personable and witty. And so, so, pretty—how the fuck had he not noticed you before?

You’d left long after the sun had set, after Mark convinced you to give him his number, of course.

Now, maybe it was because Mark needed a sense of purpose. Maybe it was because he desperately felt the need to redeem himself. Maybe it was because you were something pure and good and unblemished after a time of such bitter darkness. But Mark was enraptured with you. He wanted you. He wanted you more than he’d wanted anything before. But it was more than want. It was a need. He needed you. He needed to protect you from the horrible world. He needed to protect you from corruption and the darkness that had permeated his soul.

And only he could. Only Mark.

He craved you like you were his life source, learning everything there was to know about you. He monitored your social media, your class schedule, and your extracurriculars. He'd follow you home from school... To make sure you got there safely, of course. It soon became his favorite hobby. Monitoring you.

Mark studied your friends and where you went with them.

He quickly decided you didn’t need any of them. Most talked shit about you behind your back, and the others simply weren’t good enough. Not for you.

Mark then realized that you were in desperate need of saving. And only he could be the one to do it.

He fell hard. How could he not? You were so precious, so fragile, so perfect. He knew that you’d fall for him just as hard… You may have just needed some convincing.

He’d make you devoted to him. Enamored. Loyal.

That way, he could keep you safe. Protected from the lies and evil surrounding you both.

He watched you day and night, becoming your shadow. He’d smile when you became suspicious of being watched, slightly enjoying your paranoia. You were too smart for your own good, but it was no use against a Viltrumite. But he wasn’t stalking you. No, he was protecting you. Learning you.

He watched the way you slept, which side you preferred. He savored the moments you rolled onto your tummy, the way your sleep shirt would gather around your hips… The bare skin that tempted him.

You were a virgin. He’d learned that fairly quickly.

Your friends only ever talked about sex and teased you for being the only one who hadn’t done it.

All the better for Mark, he'd decided.

He also learned, from observation, that you rarely ever touched yourself. You’d get pent up, of course. But it was as if you didn’t know how to handle it… Mark would stare in through your window on dark, late nights, entranced by the way you’d squirm around in your bed. Your hands would curl into your sheets, thighs twitching and pressing together.

There was one time—once—Mark succumbed to debauchery. It was late on a Friday night. You and Mark had stayed up working on a science project… but you'd both mostly just chatted. He would admit, he’d had every intention of working you up. He’d commented indiscreetly on your appearance, dropping hints on how it coincided with his “type.” He'd used suggestive language and even moaned softly a time or two when it wasn’t exactly… Necessary.

That night, he'd found himself pressed against your window pane, the proximity of his hot breath fogging up the crystalline glass. He was a goner. Rigid and leaking into his pajama pants.

Because you'd been grinding down on your teddy bear, head thrown back as you rode it like a horse.

Hair damp, sticking to your neck as your skin glistened in the moonlight. Your sleep shirt plopped atop your thighs, wrinkling with every curt rotation of your hips.

Your brows had been furrowed in both frustration and pleasure, your pretty, plump lips forming an “o.”

You couldn’t quite figure out what to do, only that what you'd been doing now felt good.

Your hands had gripped your stuffy as you ground your swollen clit on it, breathy moans slipping through your bruised lips.

Mark could hear it—nearly choking at the sound of your slick folds sliding over your stuffed bear.

He couldn’t help himself, palming his cock over his pants as he'd watched you play.

You were so fucking innocent, chasing after your orgasm blindly.

If Mark were a lesser man, he would’ve burst in there and shown you true pleasure.

But he was a gentleman. His mother had raised him as such. He could wait.

You were easily charmed. Mark had you wrapped around his finger in no time, and by your second date, you became his girlfriend. He was on cloud fucking nine, pleasuring himself nightly to the mere look on your face after he’d kissed you that night. The lust that had dilated your pupils, the jump in your heart beat, the scent of your arousal… Sickening. He was a man surviving solely on willpower.

He successfully separated you from your friends, especially those who disapproved of him. Soon, you were nowhere except by his side. You only grew closer when he told you he was Invincible.

Three months later, and you finally allowed him into your bed. You were beyond nervous and far past bashful. Mark’s mother wasn’t home, and your parents were on a work conference, giving you two the perfect opportunity.

You’d hid your naked body from him, refusing to move your arms until after several minutes of heavy kissing.

You were glorious. Pert and plush and perfect. Mark worshipped you, glorifying your body until even you believed you were holy.

He made love to you slowly, kissing your tears away and committing your sound to memory.

It was the best he’d ever had, watching you slowly be corrupted by him. Your innocence seeped from your body and into his hands, for him to wield and use and break.

You were his, truly.

You came three times that night, convulsing and crying out his name like he was your God.

He had you nine ways to Sunday. He’d creep into your room at night and make you see stars, holding you down while he filled you to the brim. You loved it. You became addicted to it—to Mark. You began initiating the moment you saw him, opening your mouth or spreading your legs.

Your knees were always bruised. Your thighs had a constant imprint of his teeth. You were perfect. Life was perfect.

Until your ex appeared out of nowhere.

Mark didn’t even know you had an ex. And to you, it seemed like a harmless emission. You dated for a few months years ago. You’d truly forgotten about him.

To Mark, it was the greatest betrayal. You’d been tainted by other, nasty hands. Even if he’d never touched you.

Mark was broken.

You were his. Only his. He’d spent nights making you repeat how Mark was the only man you’d ever love. Mark had trained your body to respond to him—to fall apart for him in minutes. No one else would get to do that. No one.

This ex, this random, useless boy had shattered the reverie that Mark had lived in for the past few months, and needed to be eradicated. Mark was the most powerful being to exist...And he felt threatened. He felt raw and shattered.

And so, was it really out of pocket and barbaric when he severed the boy's head from his shoulders?

No.

Because nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing would get in between Mark and his girl.

He should’ve done a better fucking job at hiding the body,

Mark realized after leaving the GDA one fateful morning. Cecil had figured out what he’d done. And they had every intention of investigating and charging Mark…

And hiding you.

Absolutely not.

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Mark was fuming by the time he escaped from the Pentagon. He was in the sky, far from his mother and Cecil, before either could stop him. He shot through the air, his freshly healed bones barking in protest as he pushed for new speeds. On his way to you. Because you’d been avoiding him for days.  Ignoring his texts and calls. And then that old fart Cecil told him to leave you alone? The hell did he have to do with this? Sirens blared behind him, black-suited soldiers filing into the parking lot. He flew faster.

But Mark knew it was serious when both his mother and Cecil staged something like an intervention, saying it was best to focus on “putting his best foot forward, and letting go of the past—of the things that did not benefit him.”

You’d disappeared after Angstrom. He was given a letter afterwards, detailing your “leaving him.”

Were they fucking crazy? Did they not understand that if Mark were to, he’d spend the rest of his life with you wrapped around him. With him inside of you, deep and demanding. You were his. Now and always. You’d been made for him. They were batshit if they thought they could separate the two of you.

The only reason Mark stopped himself from creating a crater in your backyard was that he saw your mother’s station wagon in the driveway. He slowed himself to float just beyond your window, peering in through the glass. And he felt his blood freeze. The pictures of him were gone, the Seance Dog posters removed, and his clothes folded in a box beside your bed. You’d….You’d rid yourself of him. He couldn’t believe it—they’d brainwashed you!

Mark’s blood turned to lava in his veins, his heart beginning to pound in anger. And then you walked in.

Whole and beautiful and wrecked. You looked utterly broken, coming to brace yourself on the back of your desk chair.

“Baby,” Mark whispered.

You whipped around, eyes wide. Your pulse leapt as you found Mark standing in your bedroom, the window unlatched and pushed open. When had he? Fuck, no one had told you he’d left the facility. And he looked…Sweat began beading on the back of your neck as you sized up the man who had snuck into your room, fear crawling up your throat from the glint in his eyes. He looked crazy.

“Got your letter,” Mark said, eyes glassy. You blinked, taking a step backward.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You breathed, flinching as Mark took a step forward. “Mark,” You whispered, swallowing the fear as you took another step backward. You subtly angled your body away from him and between your door. Three things became nauseatingly clear in that moment.

They’d told him to stay away from you, which meant there was clear evidence he’d killed that boy. Your ex.

He had not taken it well and had done God knew what to get to you in this moment.

Your mother was here, in your house, just one floor down. An innocent in all of this. And who knew what Mark would do to those he saw in his way to getting you.

You had to figure out a plan and fast. One that didn’t end in more casualties. Maybe if you could just draw him out…

You glanced toward your bed, to the little black device sitting on top of your comforter. A teleporter from Cecil.

You tried to appear calm and level your breathing, looking back at Mark. You had the advantage of being several feet closer to it. Maybe that would mean something. You sent a silent prayer up.

And then you lurched for it, fingers outstretched. And they just barely grazed the cool metal…

Before it was entirely ripped from your grasp.

With a huff, you were forced against the rigid chest of Mark Grayson. Your vision blurred as you gasped for air from the force of the collision, his body akin to steel. You distantly saw him inspect the small device, the disgust leeching from him.

“I see Cecil got to you, then,” Mark said simply, voice dripping with betrayal. You struggled against his hold, clawing at the arm wrapped around your middle, but it was no use. Even on his worst day, he was still leagues stronger than you.

“You’d really run from me,” Mark continued in disbelief, more to himself than you. You stilled against him, running through ideas. You stilled your racing heart, dumbly assuming Mark wouldn't seriously hurt you.

“No, Mark, you just—“

“Just what?” He questioned, turning you to face him. He lowered the device as well, giving you the perfect opportunity—

You reached for the device with your free hand, thumb grazing against the silver button. Suddenly, the world blurred as you were tossed across the room, the lower half of your body colliding with your desk.

Pain blossomed up the left side of your body, a muffled groan escaping your lips as you crumpled to the floor. Mark had pushed, no, thrown you across the room. Your left side burned as you blinked away the dots in your vision, forcing yourself to reboot. Your mind whirled. He had… He had really hurt you. Jesus Christ. Your heart ached worse than your body in that moment.

With a cough, you pushed yourself to your elbows, turning to face Mark. You found him staring down at you, troubled. You then glanced at his feet, or more so, at the glittering pile of crushed metal. What once was your way out. Now, long gone.

“That’s the second time you’ve lied today,” Mark said, voice distant and quietly baffled. He took a step toward you, and you cowered. And he stopped, eyes wide. “Hey.”

He was directly in front of you, kneeling by your side. You released a scream at the sudden proximity, one that was immediately covered by Mark’s hand. You met cold brown eyes, pleading and near-insane as they stared into yours. He was so close you could see your reflection. Your gaze, terrified and shattered. The trickle of blood from your temple. Mark scanned your face almost greedily, like he was afraid you’d disappear.

“Baby, I would never hurt you.”

You wanted to laugh. Or scream. He had just hurt you, not even thirty seconds ago. But you didn't. No, you understood what position you were in. This was now about survival. So, with tears brimming in your eyes and tremors shaking your body, you whispered back,

“I know.”

Mark’s shoulders sagged instantly in relief, sitting up and sliding his hands under your arms to lift you up. You sucked in a breath as the hiss of pain flitted through you, the world blurring once more.

“M-mark,” You whimpered, until he set you on your bed. Your brain flipped through plans. One that got Mark to leave and kept you and your mother alive. You swallowed thickly as Mark reappeared, knelt between your knees. His eyes scanned your temple, falling down your left side.

“You're fine,” He muttered, raising your left arm and noticing your wince. “Fine enough to fly, at least.”

That got your attention. You leaned back, breath growing shallow.

“Fly? Fly where, Mark?” You hissed, eyes wide. You felt panic begin to creep up your spine.

“A safe house, Eve made.”

You shook your head to prevent yourself from getting dizzy, shooting upward. Mark let you, following you with his eyes as you backed away from him. Your heart was pounding in your ears, your blood running cold. What the hell did he even have planned?

“Wait, wait, Eve is there? She helped you?”

Mark stayed kneeling by your bed, head cocked to the side as he inspected you. With a sigh, he shrugged his shoulders.

“Sort of.”

A ragged breath shook your shoulders, and you began to shake your head. This was insane. You didn’t give a fuck anymore—he needed to get out of your house.

“Listen, Mark, I’m sorry about the way things played out. But it is over now. It’s better if you just leave,” You demanded, voice brittle. Tears burned the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision. But you still saw it. The change. It was like a shift in the air, in the way Mark held himself. All softness slipped from his face like wax being melted from a wick. His expression grew solemn—cold, even. Straight-backed, Mark rose to his full height. Goosebumps covered your flesh in seconds, solely from the way he commanded the room with his presence. You fought the urge to cower from him. He observed you, eyes contemplative and dark.

In a flash, he was there, pressing you against the wall. You yelped, the tears finally falling down your cheeks, turning away from him as much as you could. The sound was broken and breathy.

“Please,” You wept, nose turning red. “Please, just leave.”

Mark watched you, almost amused at the pathetic way you fought and struggled against him. Your tears intrigued him. You’d always known he was this powerful and ominous being. But you’d never been on the receiving end of his strength and terror. Well, not in this way at least.

Mark smiled at the memories of you pressed under him. You’d be there again soon enough. With a sigh, he leaned down, breath ghosting across your cheek as his tongue darted out to collect the tears there. You shivered at the contact, a muffled sob falling from your lips.

“Your mom is here too, baby. I can hear her watching those obnoxious soaps she likes. Maybe I should go and talk with her, instead?”

It was all for show, Mark thought. Even though he had every intention of hurting whoever he needed to get you to leave with him. But it was justified. You had no clue what was good for you. You had no idea what was safe. Neither did Cecil, nor Mark’s mom, nor yours.

But Mark did.

And he’d show you. Even if it meant dragging you there kicking and screaming. You’d remember that Mark had only good intentions—you’d remember that this was only done out of love.

Because he did love you. So fucking much. So much that he would hurt you to make you realize it.  If it were necessary, it would be done.

Your face blanched upon hearing his threat, heart stuttering in your heaving chest. You began begging him, head shaking so fast he could barely see it, pleas falling from your lips like spilled wine. And Mark shushed you, gathering your face and tilting it upward until he placed a kiss on your soaked lips. You were frozen. That was fine, for now.

“So, you’ll leave with me?”

You watched him in silent horror as he gathered your things, not feeling entirely real. He’d thrown some clothes—mostly underwear—into a bag before turning to you. With a soft smile, he held out a hand for you. And for a moment, he looked like the Mark you knew, ready to sweep you away for a fun trip. Sweet, gentle, and loving. And then you blinked, and the sparkle in his eye was replaced by a malicious glint, his outstretched hand shaking a bit from his restrained insanity. You swallowed, the dread bubbling in your stomach like acid. It was either this or he’d take more lives, including your mother’s.

As if he could read your internal dialogue, Mark’s jaw set, his shoulders squared as he nodded to the window.

“Let’s go.”

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Soft sunlight filtered across the room, highlighting the dust dancing through the air. It was quiet, the still air floating through the vacant halls with a weight. The warm golden glow didn't quite touch the space around you. The walls, the furniture, the glass, it all felt... Cold. Sterile. Fake.

Because it was.

You sat, knees pulled to your chest, blurry-eyed atop the emerald green comforter. It was still made, because you hadn't slept in it. How could you have slept?

Your back was flush against what would've been the headboard, only it wasn't. It was part of the massive tree that shot through the house you were kept in. Your eyes ached as you squinted against the rising sun, watching silently as it painted the world orange and pink. The floor-to-ceiling windows teased you as they circled the entire room. There were barely any real walls in this house. But all of them were impenetrable.

You’d tried shattering them the moment he’d left you here. But it was of no use. Mark had been thorough.

You could not go through doors without access, as they only accepted retinal or fingerprint scanning. The walkways between rooms and balconies had invisible barriers. Meaning, you couldn't jump off. You'd tried only once, the second you'd gotten here. You'd thought maybe you could've climbed down the rest of the way. A poor decision on your part, as you'd been locked in the bedroom you were currently in as punishment. Your bedroom, he’d called it. That insinuated there was another bedroom for him.

At least the treehouse you were in was gorgeous. Eve had created it with extreme precision and detail. You still couldn't believe she helped Mark create this prison for you.

Or maybe she’d been forced. You didn't know. You didn't care.

It still didn't feel real.

You assumed it had been almost eight hours since you were taken. You wondered if your parents knew. Was anyone looking for you?

Maybe they weren't to risk the wrath of another Viltrumite.

To be honest, you wouldn't.

Your side still ached where you'd crashed into your desk, the wound on your temple healing but tender. You knew you'd feel better if you just went to sleep.

But you couldn’t still your mind. You couldn't stop the possibilities for your future from playing over and over and over.

You were frightened of the man who'd taken you here—of who he was now.

What would happen to you? Would you survive this?

You began crying as the sun crested above the horizon. By the time it had reached midday, you'd passed out on top of your bed, nose sore and eyes aching.

You awoke to a warm tingling between your thighs, stirring as it grew stronger. You hummed lowly, trying to turn onto your side. But you couldn't. The warmth spread, coiling in your stomach, pulling you further from your sleep. Whatever it was, it felt so good.

Something damp and balmy striped across your core, arching your back. Your eyes shot open, blurry and dazed, as a husky moan cut through the silence of your bedroom. You were disoriented, dizzy as you glanced downward. Only to find Mark buried between your exposed thighs. And suddenly you were no longer drowsy, nor were you cozy. You screamed, digging your heels into the sheets as you pushed away from him frantically. Mark, surprised, shot up from your cunt. His dark eyes glistened with lust in the faint moonlight, the bottom half of his face shining with your arousal. Heart racing, you scurried backward until you slipped off the bed, landing on the smooth wood flooring. Mark sat back on his haunches, shirtless and god-like, watching you with an amused expression as you continued until your back kissed the glass.

Silence, except for your heaving pants.

Mark sighed slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He stared at you, his fiery gaze lingering on the apex of your thighs…On the way, it still glistened with your slick. Alarms blared in your mind as you stared at him in horror and betrayal. You were nearly at a loss for words. And then, Mark stood up. Tight boxers clung to his muscular thighs, the fabric tented. You realized he had every intention of coming over to you and finishing the job—

You found your voice then.

“Don’t you dare come any fucking closer.”

Mark halted upon hearing your voice, brows arched in disbelief. And then, they lowered, his expression darkening with mirth. With a deep inhale through his nose, Mark slowly lowered himself into a squat with his hands joined in front of him. Casual. His head cocked to the side as he inspected you as if you were a wounded animal.

“Baby, let’s not do this,” He began, in that low, sultry voice that made goosebumps flood your skin even now. Mark noticed, because of course he did, lips quirking at the response. “Come back to bed, baby, you were clearly enjoying it.”

Your veins felt like they’d been filled with lead, poison dripping into your heart with each pump. A part of you ached as you looked at the man you’d once loved. But anger quickly replaced it when you remembered all that he… Expected of you.

Your gaze turned icy, voice deadly.

“Mark, let. Me. Go.”

Mark blinked, rolling his shoulders in obvious annoyance. He was trying to keep his cool, a thought that had fear gripping your spine.

“Come to bed,” He repeated, his voice no louder than a whisper. “I know you’re close, baby. You were squeezing my tongue when I was fucking you with it.”

Tears burned your eyes as you grimaced at him. You’d never expected to feel so. So.. So violated.

The man who had taken your virginity away with such grace and care, the one who was now…

You broke your stare, bile rising in your throat.

“Leave, Mark.”

Suddenly, he was directly infront of you, face no more than an inch away from yours. You yelped at the proximity, head banging brutally against the glass behind you.

You froze, whimpering as the pain radiated down your neck, tears soaking your cheeks. Mark’s steely gaze fell down the expanse of your face, lingering on the stains your tears had left.

“I don't want to hurt you. My intentions for you are good, and hopefully, one day you'll see that. I know this is still new, so for now I'll let this behavior slide. But know this, I’ll never let them take you away from me again.”

Taglist:@gomif0ca @vivian-555 @nishiology @imaginarydreamwanderer

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