#markhelly fic

Helly had heard Milchick reference it once before, though she had no context for what it meant at the time. The monkey’s paw. Irv had explained it to her as a wish that had gone bad. Honestly, he’d seemed as confused about it as she had. How can a wish go bad? They’d puzzled it out for an afternoon and then forgotten about it, as they do most trivial outie things.

Then Helly had made a wish.

The sirens blared as the lights flashed red, and Mark was snatched from her arms. Or was she snatched from his. All she remembers is pulling and yelling. She’d wriggled from their grasp for a moment and threw herself back onto Mark, giving him one last kiss. And in those final moments, she hoped that she’d never wake up again unless she was with him.

Who decides which wishes go bad? Who decided that, instead of being delivered back into Mark S’s loving embrace, she wakes up to Mark Scout splitting her apart with his cock.

For a minute she can barely breathe, let alone process what’s happening to her. Mark Scout has her hair wound tightly around his fist, and he uses the grip to pull her face up to the mirror above his dresser, a dresser she’s being bent over as he roughly fucks her from behind. The wood bites into the skin over her ribs as she’s forced against the furniture over and over again at a punishing pace. She can feel the length of him pummelling her g-spot; the same 7 inches he’d used to gently coax her to her first orgasm are now forcing the pleasure from her body like a jackhammer. And that’s when the phrase comes back to her. The monkey’s paw.

“Mark!” Helly chokes out in a gasp. The words hurt as her vocal cords bend to their shape, and when she looks at herself in the mirror she can see a handprint bruise lining her throat. Mark meets her gaze in the mirror when he hears her. He looks so different to her Mark, she can see it even in the dim light of his bedroom. His hair is shorter, but still unruly in the way it sits in front of his face; not like hair that’s freshly trimmed, like hair that’s due to be cut again. He’s grown a beard too. Well, almost a beard. It doesn’t look like well groomed, intentional hair, it looks more like stubble he can’t be bothered to shave. And his expression is dark, his arousal not cut with love like she’s used to. It’s laced with something else. She doesn’t like it. “Mark, stop!”

His thrusts falter and concern flits across his face for a second, but he doesn’t pull out. “Is this part of it?” He asks.

“What?” Helly tries to raise her voice to match her panic, but her throat still feels sore.

“You know…” He swallows. “The whole… are you safewording?”

She wants to scream yes! She is safewording. She wants off whatever sick ride she’s stumbled onto. But her mouth doesn’t move under her command. The world flickers around her and she feels the weightless stomach drop sensation she used to get in the elevator, as Helena regains consciousness. It feels like living a memory when she hears Helena’s voice talk for her. Her hand reaches back to smack the side of Mark’s body. “Don’t fucking stop unless I say it.”

Helly snaps in and out, like the world is strobing around her, seeing and feeling every other frame of existence but not settling into her body long enough to break out of the cycle. Each waking moment is depraved, vomit inducing pleasure; heat pulsing between her legs and pain blooming from new spots on her skin. Sometimes she’s mid moan, sometimes she’s fake struggling against the way he holds her still.

“Oh daddy, don’t stop!” The words fly out her mouth as she’s forced back into her own body. She sucks in a lungful of air and slams her hands down on the dresser. That sick bitch, Helly thinks. She takes a moment to steady herself, squeezing her eyes shut and blocking out the feeling of Mark’s four fingers stretching her open. She opens her eyes again and locks her gaze onto Mark, catching him mid drag of his cigarette behind her. She wasn’t present when he lit it, how long have him and Helena been going at it? She can feel his cum dribbling out of her pussy and he’s hard against her hip, so it must’ve been a while.

“Stop.” She says firmly, scowling at him in the mirror.

“God you’re such a head fuck.” Mark laughs, exhaling the smoke and then recomposing himself into whatever persona Helena has asked him to put on. “You don’t want me to stop, baby.”

“Yes, I do.” She seethes, first trying to pull herself forward off his hand, and when that proves fruitless, she tries to reach back to hit him. He catches her arm and shoves her back towards the mirror, grabbing hold of her shoulder and forcing her onto the surface of the dresser. “Get the fuck off me!”

“You’re such a bitch. Do you need me to punish you?” Mark asks. He pulls his fingers out of her and Helly finally feels like she can breathe again. If the punishment is him rescinding his touch, she’ll take it. She drops her head onto the wood beneath her and takes a shaky breath. The break doesn’t last long. He grabs her hair and forces her to look into the mirror. “I asked you a fucking question.”

Helly smirks, defiant and smug. “Yeah, yeah I need to be punished.” She laughs. “Want me to read the compunction statement or something.”

“I don’t need to hear that shit a third time.” Mark replies, and Helly scoffs at the idea of Helena already bringing her weird Lumon bullshit into their roleplay. She bats her hand behind her to try and get him to let go of her hair, but his grip only tightens. She feels his cock line up with her entrance and her reality dawns on her once again. “Tell me you want it.”

“I don’t. I don’t fucking want it. Just leave me the fuck alone!” She wheezes, struggling again only to feel the tip press into her. Despite how badly she knows she wants to stop, she moans. She can’t blame it on Helena this time either. Her clit throbs and her walls clench around the intrusion. “G-get away from me.”

Mark grabs the back of her neck and forces her to bend forward. “Beg for my cock.”

“No.” She whimpers. She watches in horror as he takes another drag of his cigarette, takes it slowly out of his mouth, and lowers it to the dimple on her back. “No! No, please, no!”

“Beg me to fuck you.” He states again. She shakes her head, tears falling from the corners of her eyes. The hot ash connects with her skin and she tries to recoil away. She clenches around him again. “Beg.”

“Okay, fuck me, fuck me please, Mark!” She yells hoarsely. He takes the cigarette off her skin and shoves his cock inside her as deep as he can. He pulls her back flush to him, his chest solid against her back, and blows smoke against her cheek. He’s such an asshole. It’s so hot.

“Are you going to thank me?” He whispers, fucking her slow and deep. It’s better than the hard and fast rhythm from before, much more familiar. She feels her clit throb and her cunt pulse as he presses firmly against her g-spot.

“Thank you.” She moans, squirming against him. She tries to reach a hand between her legs, but he catches her wrist.

“Thank you…?” He leads.

“Thank you daddy.” She whines.

He places her hand against the dresser and instead brings his fingers to her clit. He’s still holding the cigarette, she can feel the heat dangerously close to her inner thigh with every movement, and the filter brushes teasingly against the hood of her clit. It sends a shiver through her body and she feels herself getting closer.

“There’s my good girl.” He mutters, touching her faster. “Are you going to cum for me?”

“Yeah.” She groans. Unfortunately, she is.

“Then you better ask nicely.” His fingers and thrusts speed up and she worries for a second that even if he doesn’t give her permission she won’t be able to stop it.

“Please. Please make me cum. Please, Mark, I need it.” She pleads, the words tumbling out of her like a waterfall. “Please, please, please can I cum?”

“Fuck, fuck, okay, cum for me baby.” He pants, and her orgasm is slamming into her before he’s even finished his sentence. She can’t hear herself crying out, but she can feel her larynx burning so she must be making noise. It’s euphoric as it washes over her. She’s never known pleasure like it, and she could’ve never conceived that it could come from the nasty shit Mark was doing to her. He keeps holding her up and fucking her through it, his fingers not slowing until she’s stopped spasming around his cock.

“Was that okay?” He asks, and Helly finally comes back to herself now the fog of arousal has lifted. “I know you said to make you wait longer to finish, but you seemed really-“

“You motherfucker!” Helly yells, spinning round in his arms and shoving him away as hard as she can.

“I’m- I’m sorry?” He winces. Helly slaps him hard across the face and he stumbles backwards onto the bed behind him, landing on their discarded pile of clothes.

“Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!” She keeps shouting, bringing her closed fist down onto his body as he curls into a ball and cowers away from her.

“Ow! Helena, stop! Stop!” He pleads, holding one hand up in submission while the other protects his still hard manhood from Helly’s barrage of attacks. “Zufu! Zufu! For gods sake, Zufu!”

Helly pauses. “What the fuck is Zufu?” She questions, panting as the exertion catches up with her.

“Our fucking safeword!” He shouts, looking at her with a horrified expression. And then it clicks. “No.” He mutters. “No, no, no…”

“Yeah.” Helly confirms through a clenched jaw.

“When did-“

“Halfway through.” She says apathetically. “Or at least I think it was halfway. How long were you two going at it?”

“I’m sorry.” He says quietly. “I didn’t know, I didn’t…”

His body betrays him, despite his very real guilt, his cock twitches. They both notice. They both notice the other noticing.

“You’re sick, you know that?” She spits. He nods pathetically. She takes a few steps closer to him and he tries to shrink into the mattress. “What the fuck do we do with a sick little pervert like you?”

He looks up at her, wide eyed, terrified, so horny he can’t breathe. She can hear Helena chuckle in the back of her mind. “I don’t know.”

“I do.” She smirks. She crawls up the bed to him, pinning his arms above his head and positioning her dripping wet hole over the tip of his cock. “Beg me to fuck you.”

“Please.” He gasps.

“Please…?” She prompts.

“Please Helly.” He whimpers. She sinks down onto him slowly and his eyes roll back into his head.

“Say my name.” She commands, riding him slow and deep.

“Helly!” He cries out.

“Again.” She speeds up on his cock and he writhes beneath her.

“Helly!” He yells, trying to arch up into her.