I'm Elaine! I'm not new to writing, but I'm relatively new to writing on/for Tumblr! I'm 25 and live in the United States. I am constantly bored by everyday life and by my 9-5, and so I escape here! Enjoy this journey with me :)
Characters: Arrogant!Mark Grayson/ Invincible or Stripevincible/Variant!Mark Grayson x married!Reader
Warnings: NO USE OF Y/N, SMUT, rough smut, Dub-con, slight somno, slight Dom/Sub dynamic, PinV, no protection, pregnancy scare, slight Dark!Mark, low-key stalker!mark, Dirty Talk, Dirty thoughts, domestic v!olence, mürder, lowkey k!dnapping, barely proofread, Minors DNI.
Synopsis:
nothing good lasts forever…
Word Count: 2.8k
A/N: THIS STORY DOES NOT HAVE A PREGNANCY TROPE, just stick w me :)
Pleasure rippled down your spine, eyes rolling back as you nearly choked on the sensation. A whimper slipped past your lips, and your eyes went wide. Shit, you were so close, you realized with a pang of panic.
The sheets crinkled under your grip as another thrust rocked you to your core. Fuck, you couldn’t do it—couldn’t stay quiet.
“Imbmcmm—mhmmmm,” you murmured, words muffled against his palm. Invincible’s palm, which was clamped across the lower half of your face, keeping those daming sounds locked in.
So that your husband, who was asleep just a foot away, wouldn’t wake to see you being fucked silly by Chicago’s golden boy.
Tears brimmed in your eyes as your orgasm built, Invincible’s free hand wrapped around your hip so tightly you knew it’d bruise.
Yes, you thought, mark me and claim me. Make the world know I’m yours—
You flinched as teeth nipped at your earlobe.
“Quiet,” the hero hissed, though you could hear the grin in his voice. You swallowed thickly, body rocking forward with each deep buck of his hips. “I’m thrilled you know whom you belong to, but keep that beautiful mouth shut and let me have my fun.”
Your core clenched as he pulled you up and back against his chest, the other hand flattening against your stomach.
Your vision blurred, black dots dancing, and you could taste that precipice on your tongue. Your quaint bedroom, your marriage bed, being desecrated before your very eyes. And happily so.
He’d snuck in sometime after midnight, rousing you with his mouth on your dripping heat, pleased that your body responded to him even in your sleep.
You’d nearly screamed, not used to him visiting you while your husband was home.
It had been dark, nearly too dark to make out the strong fingers that dragged you from bed and had flipped you over.
Warm lips licking up your spine, humming by your ear when he smelled no other scent lingering on your skin. None but his own.
It hadn’t been easy to convince your husband to stop sleeping with you. The man was crazy physical, and that was about it. But, a month into your escapade, Invincible tackled you at work, gleeful with news.
“He’s fucking his secretary,” he groaned, head thrown back as he fucked your throat. You nearly choked, eyes widening as you watched him grip the shelves on either side of him in the computer closet. You pulled back with a pop and a gasp, your flyaways framing your face.
“W-what?”
Your heart had stuttered, nearly freezing in your chest. The hero smiled down at you, slowly stroking his aching cock, smearing the precum that bubbled up onto your lips.
“He’s got his own whore now, so I can continue using mine,” Invincible crooned, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. His gaze darkened, grip on your jaw tightening. The pad of his thumb dipped between your lips
“Open.”
A brutal command that sent sparks flying down your spine.
You shuddered but obeyed, enamored by the way his breathing turned choppy. He slid into your mouth once more, his jaw dropping in pure pleasure. Invincible groaned, his other hand sliding through your hair to grip it at its roots.
“You gonna let him fuck that slut, baby?”
You choked as he hit the back of your throat. But you nodded, hips beginning to grind against your heels. Dull pleasure sparked in your core.
You were lost and truly gone.
Lost in the man above you, consuming and poisoning your very soul.
“Good girl,” he growled before spilling down your throat with a sound that you could get high off of.
Invincible visited whenever he saw fit… whenever he craved you. And your husband was none the wiser, sleeping beside you while another man’s cum dripped out of you.
You were surprised you weren’t—
You swallowed a whimper as Invincible’s finger circled your puffy clit, eyes blowing wide. No, no, he couldn’t.
The man grinned against your ear like he could read your thoughts. You nearly buckled as he began to caress the nerves in earnest. Oh fuck, fuck, you were gonna—
“Look at him, baby,” Invincible purred, fingers moving on your clit at a blinding speed. “Look at your husband as you come all over my cock.”
You crumpled, fireworks exploding in your vision as your orgasm crashed through you. Invincible nearly lost his footing as well, after feeling the way you squeezed him. But he settled for spilling into you, hot and thick, and making you feel oh so full.
“Fuck, yeah—that’s it, dirty girl,” He swore, the mattress groaning a bit as he leaned over you, chest pressing you further down onto the bed.
And you fell into his hold completely, hazy and floating in happy hormones, boneless as Invincible maneuvered you gently back into bed.
Your eyes were heavy, slowly closing as your head hit your pillow. You had no idea you’d been this exhausted.
His fingers carded through your hair, tucking it behind your ear as he brought the comforter up to your chin.
He might’ve whispered something before he left, but you were already asleep.
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The world was crumbling beneath your feet, gravity shifting and swallowing you into the void.
It wasn’t possible.
It couldn’t be.
You stared down at the box of tampons sitting under your bathroom sink.
The unopened box of tampons.
Something oily spread through as you realized just how late you were.
Fuck.
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You set your work bag down on your counter, letting your keys clang behind it. You’d been a nervous wreck all day. And of course you’d been too busy to stop by the drug store and get a test.
But at least you were home. And at least—
“Strip.”
You yelped, whirling around to find Invincible standing in the middle of your living room. His body was half cloaked in shadow, the other half catching the street light from the window. You released a shuddering breath, releasing your iron grip on the side table. And damn you if your core didn’t automatically clench upon seeing him, your mouth salivating instantly.
His lips quirked, as if noticing. You raised trembling hands to your blouse.
“I… I,” you stuttered, searching for the right words. God, this was horrifying. “I can’t.”
Invincible stilled, head cocking to the side slowly. As if he’d never heard the word “no” before. A low chuckle passed through his plump lips.
“Are you trying to make me beg?”
Your eyes fluttered closed as heat shot through you. And he was on you, hands guiding your hips backward and lips pressing against your neck. Licking and sucking and…Yes, yes, yes—No.
“I’m pregnant,” you blurted, hands flattening on his chest. Invincible stilled before pulling back. Fear bubbled in your stomach, passing cars sending a menacing silhouette over your lover’s body.
Slowly, Invincible wrapped his hand around your left hand, tugging at that measly diamond ring that you barely wore. You swallowed thickly.
“It’s yours.”
“I know that,” he replied softly, but not gently. His chest widened as he took a steadying breath, obviously mulling over several thoughts.
But you knew. You knew what he was attempting to figure out. So, steeling your resolve, you stepped away from him.
“It means I can’t see you anymore.”
The room seemed to quiet, the city sounds beyond your house stalling. The entire world seemed to lean in and hold its breath. And your hero released a laugh full of disbelief.
“What?”
You balled your hands into fists, taking a step backward, further into your living room. Invincible followed, and for the first time, you noticed all of those rippling muscles that he used to destroy his enemies.
“You know it can’t go on,” You pleaded, your toes curling on the rug below you. “You-you can’t deal with a baby, and he’ll kill me—“
“He wouldn’t fucking dare,” He growled, the air disappearing from your lungs as you watched him shake with rage. “You’re mine—“
You shook your head, hand raised as he took another step toward you. You were crying, tears dripping off your chin and flooding your mouth.
“I’m married,” You stressed with a bitter sob. You released an incredulous laugh. “And… and, I don’t even know your name.”
“Married,” He seethed, jaw clenched so tight you worried he’d shatter his perfect teeth. “You—“
Invincible's voice faltered, head turning like he was listening to something. A groan of annoyance fell from his lips, shoulders tensing.
“Not now, Cecil—“ He spat, his forefinger pressing against his ear. But whoever was whispering to him didn’t care for Invincible’s excuses. The superhero shook his head before turning back to you. “This isn’t over—“
“It has to be,” you whined in earnest, tears brimming in your eyes. You wanted to say more; you wanted to smooth that crease between his brow; you wanted to kiss him until your head grew light. But you couldn’t, and he had a world to save.
The hero released a mangled sound of anguish before he was gone.
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Your hands trembled as you stirred the pasta, the scent of red sauce and garlic drifting throughout the kitchen. The door slammed, and boots thudded against the door frame, shortly followed by the clink of keys hitting the sideboard.
He was on a work call, like usual. Recently he’d eaten every dinner while on the phone. The grind never stopped for your adoring husband.
But it would stop tonight. A lot of things would stop tonight.
You picked at your garlic bread, eyes trained on the man across from you. Golden light shone from the chandelier above you, a facade of warmth cast upon him.
The history between you was long, rough, and reckless. Full of regret. But it didn’t change the fact that you knew you needed to do what was right now.
Taking a deep breath, you set your silverware down just as he finished his call. His name left an ashen taste on your tongue, his eyes flickering up in surprise. Like he doubted you’d ever actually speak to him.
Your husband.
The man you married years ago, a ghost of the man before you. The man who was currently fucking his secretary.
Somehow, neither fact bothered you.
“ I need to tell you something. I’ve needed to tell you for a long time now, actually,” you continued, squashing the nerves bubbling in your tummy. Your husband narrowed his eyes but said nothing. Your fingers gripped your napkin under the table.
“I’m… I’m pregnant.”
The man across from you stilled, Eyes widening slowly in shock. Brows furrowing, you watched the gears begin to turn in his head. Confusion, because you two weren’t sleeping together—and hadn’t been for a long time. Disbelief, because how could you be pregnant? And then…
The air in the room seemed to grow heavy as his eyes darkened. Anger turned to rage, turned to disgust.
“You fucking whore—“
You screeched as he launched across the table, arms splaying for you. You flung yourself from the chair, landing hard on your backside. Fear prickled down your arms as your husband began to scurry over the edge, toward you.
But you’d already pushed yourself up and started sprinting for the bedroom.
“You get back here!” He screamed, barreling behind you. “You let some other man fuck you?!”
Your hands wrapped around the countertop as you barreled into the kitchen. If you outmaneuvered him, you could escape out of the back door.
“Like how you’re letting your secretary do the same?” You panted, teeth bared. His chest was rising and falling dramatically, fists balled so tight his knuckles had gone white as he stalked into the kitchen.
“Shut your mouth,” he hissed, face firetruck-red. “ And here I was thinking you were frigid and cold. Turns out you’re just a lying slut.”
He made the first move, darting left. You followed opposite, only for him to leap back. You missed his grabbing hands oh so barely. But with it, you were forced to continue to the bedroom.
Thankfully, your idiot spouse slipped on the carpet runner, plummeting to the ground, giving you precious seconds.
Where was your phone?? You couldn't remember where you’d placed it.
You gulped as you swung yourself into your bedroom, nearly catapulting over the bed to reach the bathroom.
And you were almost there.
But you hadn’t been quick enough.
A hand, calloused and cruel, wrapped around the back of your neck and yanked. With a shriek, you flew backward, landing on your back. Pain blossomed up your spine, the breath whooshing from your lungs on impact.
You were disoriented. Lost from your collision, you couldn’t react as something heavy climbed atop you.
Your husband, taller and wider and stronger and meaner, his hands forming an unbreakable collar around your throat.
A dull roar began in your ears, mouth open in a soundless scream as his grip tightened. Your lungs and bones and tendons burned under his touch. You writhed and fought and scratched at his hold, but it was no use.
“You're dead,” He rumbled, face mere inches from yours. Black dots danced in your vision. Pain, so, so much pain. “You and that fucking bastard in your belly are dead. And then it’s on to whoever fathered it.”
You were going to die, you realized. Here, in the very bedroom of your dreams and nightmares. You were going to die, and the only thing you could think of was that you’d never learned Invincible’s real name.
“Why don’t I spare you the time? I’m right here.”
Your husband froze, head shooting up. And there, just behind him, you caught a glimpse of blue and yellow—
You were sobbing, bawling like a baby as your husband's grip loosened enough for you to breathe.
And suddenly, the weight on your body disappeared. Your vision blurred as the blood raced back to your head, aching pain barreling behind it. But once it cleared, you found your husband dangling, feet scraping against the ground.
And Invincible?
His hand was tight around your husband’s throat, squeezing so hard his head had turned a strange purple.
You coughed, your breath like knives in your lungs as you rolled over. You didn’t bother arguing or trying to stop Invincible.
You didn’t care what he did.
But still, you closed your eyes, braced on your shoulders, as a sickening crunch sounded throughout the room. A heavy thud followed.
And then silence.
You were still trembling, slow tears dripping down your cheeks. Hands slipped under your arms, causing you to flinch, before gently pulling you to your feet. Invincible’s face was dark, guarded, as if he were reigning in his rage. His gloved hands cradled your face, thumbs stroking the skin under your eyes. It was so very at odds with his demeanor only moments ago.
You took a shaky breath, eyes catching on the slumped figure just beyond—
“Don’t,” Invincible ordered quietly, angling your face back in his direction. “You’re coming with me. Now. He won’t ever touch you again.”
Your mind was reeling. Your mouth opened and closed, throat so very sore.
“Invincible,” you began, sniffling. But he was already picking you up to carry you. He nuzzled you close to his chest, lips whispering over your hair.
“Call me Mark.”
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Mark.
Mark Grayson.
Mark Grayson—Invincible—clutched you close to his chest as he flew through the sky. You’d been speechless, frozen and bereft in those final moments.
Mark had decided on the next step for you. You were coming with him whether you wanted to or not.
The image of your husband's dead body flashed in your mind, over and over and over—
City lights flashed in your eyes, stop lights and billboards burning your retinas. Car horns and machinery filled your ears, clouding your mind with sensory overload.
You were downtown, that much was obvious. But why?
Your stomach dropped as you suddenly dove, right onto the roof of a large, antique brick estate. You swallowed thickly as Mark put you down, backing away a step to give you space.
Your mind whirled, and you found yourself focusing on the tangible—what was right in front of you. The house was about the size of four townhouses, sitting pretty in the center of a small courtyard. A wrought-iron fence ran along the perimeter, the trees looming in varying shades of orange, yellow, and red.
The brick house was lined with bone white marble, columns and corners and window sills as well, the material making up several chimneys that stretched against the darkening sky.
“Who…” you began with a sniff, tears long dried on your cheeks. “Where did you get this house?”
“My father left it to me. It was his before,” Mark answered, a shade solemn. His father, Omni-Man. You turned and found him waiting by a reinforced door, presumably leading inside. “Come on.”
And so you followed Invincible into the house, the steel door clanging shut behind you. You barely noticed the locking sound as it clicked into place.
Warnings: VOMITING, dub - con, NON - CON, DP, threesome, NO USE OF Y/N, SMUT, rough smut, Dirty Talk, no use of protection, barely proofread, Minors DNI.
TW: besties w emetephobia pls beware.
You were trembling, heart racing and threatening to break free of your chest.
“You,” you muttered, wishing the sand would swallow you. “No, that’s not possible.”
Sinister grinned, eyes drinking in your face and expression.
“Surprise,” He grinned before slamming an elbow down into your stomach. You heaved as pain radiated through your abdomen, curling in on instinct as Sinister stood.
“Gotta say Savvy, you picked a hell of a place to hide from us.”
You coughed, lungs burning as your cheek scraped against the sand.
“Didn’t… Didn’t plan…” You wheezed, dots forming in your vision. Sinister chuckled, kicking your arms away from cradling yourself.
“Hmmm,” He hummed, analyzing you. “I know exactly why you’re here.” He crouched low, resting on the balls of his feet. “And I know whom you’re running from.”
Finally able to get a breath down, you eyed Sinister warily.
“Oh, yes, I know Thragg. And I know exactly what he’ll want to do to you once he finds you.”
You forced yourself to scurry backward, slow and painful. Sinister’s eyes seemed to glow in wicked delight. He stalked after you like a predator playing with his prey.
“He’ll carve that little contraption out of your uterus and fill you up with his seed the second he smells you’re fertile. And then he’ll pass you to Kregg,” Sinister cooed, cocking his head and grinning. “Then to Lucan, then to Kradd, and then onto any Viltrumite half-breed he can find, letting them pump your abused cunt full till you give them an heir. Held by chains in captivity, getting fucked day and night? At least we made you come. At least we made sure you didn’t immediately get pregnant.”
You screamed as he leaped for you, snatching you by the roots of your hair. He leaned over you, nose brushing against your hair. He inhaled deeply, groaning at your scent.
You snarled as Sinister hauled you up, your limbs tingling as he righted you.
No, no, this was not happening. You nearly flinched as he drew closer.
“But you know this, don’t you, little one. That’s why you’ve stayed and stalled here. Hoping that we’d come and find you—bring you back home?” Sinister’s features turned sour. “Or that my weakling, waste of space variant would wake.”
Your heart lurched within your chest.
“Mark!” You realized with a pang of terror. Your muscles strained, lungs burning as you pushed yourself away from him and ran.
You made it all of two steps before Sinister tackled you face-first into the sand. His hand wrapped around the back of your neck, his legs bracketing yours. He growled as he yanked your head back by once again threading his fingers into your hair.
“He’s dead,” He hissed, malice dripping from his tone. “I killed that fucker myself after I smelled you on him.”
“No,” you whimpered, mind going hazy as the horror spread through you. No, no, no, no—
You barely heard Sinister, barely felt his powerful thighs slip between yours and spread you.
“God, your body. So powerful and new—none of the marks I left are here. We’ll need to change that.” A faint roaring began in your ears. You shifted underneath him, but Sinister was quick to bend one of your arms behind your back. You yelped in pain.
“You move a single fuckin’ inch,” he purred, licking the shell of your ear. You began sobbing softly. “And I’ll tell the others to start on the kid.”
You froze, your heart twisting.
“The others?” You repeated, voice shaking so badly it was barely understandable. Sinister merely laughed, the sound vibrating your bones as his hands yanked your hips upwards. One hand trailed back down your spine possessively, keeping your face pressed into the sand. Just like before. You were crying in earnest now, as Sinister unsheathed himself and lined up with your entrance.
Where was your strength and confidence and bravado?!
How had you, once again, been reduced to this shell of a human? Weak and broken and useless—
“Please—“ you began to beg, just as Sinister plunged into you. The oxygen was ripped from your lungs, your mouth dropping open as he slammed himself to the hilt.
Not again. Not again. Please, please, please. You thought…god, you truly thought you’d made it out.
Sinister chuckled as if able to read your mind.
“Don’t make me laugh, little one,” He snickered, voice tapering off in a groan as he once again bottomed out within your heat. “You will never, ever, be rid of me. Of us. We will always be here,” you winced as one of his hands slid under you and settled atop your womb.
Anger surged through you, turning your vision red. And, suddenly you remembered exactly who you were. You screamed, the sand beneath you vibrating. Your power charged within you, coiling ever tighter, until you at last exploded.
You were gasping, sand billowing up in swells around you, toes barely scraping against the ground. You couldn’t breathe; no, it was impossible.
Not as he held you, his large hand closed around your windpipe.
Sinister lay behind you, coughing up sand and dirt and regaining his bearings. Your power had knocked him down and nullified him temporarily, exactly what you’d wanted. And maybe you would've even succeeded in killing him.
If not for Emperor.
Emperor, strong and whole and enraged, the shadows of night causing him to resemble a demon.
You writhed within his hold, resentment dripping from the look you gave him. It was no use, though. Emperor had thousands of years on you. And, some part of you still shuddered before him, whispering for you to submit… That even if there was pain, pleasure was sure to follow.
“Not so fast,” Emperor uttered, teeth bared. “Hello, pretty girl. Miss me?”
Your nose scrunched as your expression morphed into one of pure rage. And you didn’t think twice as you spat in his face. Emperor flinched instantly, biting back a roar as he threw you backward…
And into Sinister’s awaiting hold.
“Now, now,” he purred, hands splaying over your ribcage. You winced as his nails dug into your flesh. “Guess we’ll have to teach you some manners.”
Oh, God, this was real?
You barely had time to blink before you were shoved to the ground.
There was no light, no breeze, no sounds… You had no idea how much time had passed.
You whimpered, chest deflating as Sinister stroked the side of your face. His eyes were haunted without his mask, brutally honest and bare.
"You knew it would end like this," He cooed, gently and sickly sweet. "You always knew where you belonged."
You rocked forward as a figure stepped behind you, gloved hands slipping around your waist and splaying wide across your stomach. You shuddered as his broad bare chest rubbed against your back, his nose nuzzling your neck.
"You belong," Emperor murmured with unchallengeable finality. "To us."
His fingers had crept down as he'd spoken, the middle and pointer sliding between your folds and beginning to circle that sweet bundle of nerves.
You choked on a sob, of dread or relief, you weren't sure.
No, you weren't sure at all, not as he applied the slightest bit of pressure.
And horrifyingly, it all fell back into place. It all felt too achingly familiar, the pleasure and their arms and--
You gasped as he sped up, Emperor humming as the squelch of your wetness became apparent to everyone, even without superhearing.
You swallowed thickly, biting your lip as tears gathered in your eyes.
Yes, you'd known; somehow you'd known it would always end this way. You prayed for forgiveness from Mark. You promised you’d find him in whatever lay next, whether it be heaven or another life…
You’d fall to your knees and beg for forgiveness.
But as for now?
You began to tremble, but your power dissipated. The air around you ceased its crackling. And resembling a death toll, you let your head fall back against Emperor's chest.
Satisfaction filled both men immediately.
"That's it," Sinister crooned, eyes glowing as he watched Emperor spread you further.
You were daazed, head lulling to the side as they bounced you up and down on their cocks. You'd accepted your fate, taken the pleasure over the pain. Now, sandwiched between both men, you couldn't bring yourself to imagine what you were giving up.
Nothing.
Mark was dead, if they were to be believed.
You were light-years from home.
The variants had every intention of tracking you down, no matter where you went or who you were with. Emperor groaned, forehead falling to your shoulder. He'd come twice in your cunt now, and was working his way to his third.
Sinister was grinning as he connected his teeth to your neck once more, drinking deeply from the holes he'd pierced with his teeth. Pleasure trickled down his spine at the tangy taste of your blood.
"Good fucking girl," He growled, fingers reaching to pinch your nipples. "Trained you so well, huh?"
You were coming, both variants purring at the feeling of you clenching around them. And as you fell apart, you let yourself descend. You boarded up your mind and your heart, locking every orifice tight... for survival.
It was over, you realized. Nothing mattered now.
This was it, this was your life.
Sinister was coming into your ass, wrenching your head to the other side and tearing into the unmarred flesh of your neck.
This was it.
This was it.
Your psyche fractured, like the cracking of your ribs under their hold.
This was—
You screamed, lurching upward and fifty feet into the sky. And then you were falling, the sunlight burning your eyes from its sudden brightness. Sand sprayed around you, in your mouth and eyes and nose. You tumbled through the sky, beelining back toward the surface. You screamed, disoriented and lost, flipping and twirling. Until—
BAM!
You slammed into the lake, cold water shocking your system back into action. You cried out at the sensation, kicking off the sandy floor as your ass crashed against it. You swam toward the surface, heart roaring in your ears. You broke through the water, heaving as you sped toward the shore.
It was too quiet, the silence roaring in your ears. It was too bright, white light burning your retinas. Heat singed your skin; the sand baked at a near constant.
It was too much and too overstimulating.
But you were alone, you realized. Completely and utterly by yourself, with no indication that anyone else had ever been put here with you.
Your hands slapped to the clammy skin of your neck.
But there was no sagging flesh or dripping blood.
Your ribs were intact.
Your hair had not been ripped from your skull.
Holy shit.
A wave of nausea rolled over you, your stomach seizing with cramps. You cried out, hair slick to your face, arching as the pain coursed through you. Until you were rolling over to fetch into the sand.
Over and over until you collapsed against the dune.
You sucked in oxygen through parted, cracked lips, staring at the mess you'd made. And slowly, it dawned upon you.
Less than two feet away lay the carcass of the strange cactus you'd drunk from earlier. You'd guessed it had been edible.
“Oh fuck,” you groaned, rolling onto your back. You'd been hallucinating.
You winced as another cramp seized you. Curling your fists into the sand, you could do nothing as the poison ran its course.
Fuck, and if it was this powerful against you? A Viltumite? It would've killed you as a human.
It had been a hallucination.
They’d both been a hallucination.
You shuddered as the memory of their touch stirred on your skin.
And as the white sun traveled above you, you let yourself cry.
You let yourself feel it all.
Every unresolved emotion or trauma, you squared yourself and let it roll over you.
You waded back into the lake and submerged yourself.
And you let go of the Variants.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* ｡ﾟ☆ :. ───
Nearly an entire day had passed by the time you returned to the camp, only to find Nolan and Oliver collapsed onto the stone.
Hurling their guts up.
Nolan, a sickly shade of green, threw a hand up in warning.
“Don’t,” He lurched. “Don’t drink the cactus—“
He was vomiting once more before he could finish his sentence.
You stared at him, brows furrowed in pity as he convulsed.
“…Yeah,” You nodded. “Figured that out the hard way too.”
Oliver, who was in the fetal position, began laughing, only to grip his stomach in pain.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* ｡ﾟ☆ :. ───
You were running, feet a mere blur against the desert floor. Auburn clouds exploded behind you as you finally leaped into the air, a sonic boom erupting in the sky behind you. You were sure Nolan and Oliver were right behind you, but even they would not be able to beat you to this.
To him.
Two months had passed.
Two months of training and waiting and fighting nightmares and repairing trust.
Two months of healing.
And today, it had finally happened.
You were sore from training, having just finished tackling Nolan and Oliver, but it didn’t matter.
Nothing mattered compared to this.
The peaks of the standing stones appeared before anything else, looming on the horizon like some eerie reminder of all the pain you’d gone through. Funnily enough, it also led to your salvation.
You were a flash, pushing yourself to go harder. To fly faster.
Especially as you saw the speck of brown standing out against a sea of red. Tears filled your eyes as you landed, hair swirling around you from the sudden stop. You could barely breathe, seeing him here before you, standing. Alive. Awake.
Your voice was barely louder than a whimper as he turned to face you.
“Mark.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* ｡ﾟ☆ :. ───
Mark could barely breathe when he turned around and found you running toward him. Tears gathered in your glittering gaze, body strong and whole. Relief crumpled your features, the beginnings of a smile on your lips piercing Mark through the heart.
A broken sound might’ve passed through his lips as you neared him, arms open, just as his father and Oliver appeared behind you.
Alive.
You were all alive.
And you were in his arms, your strong, muscled body fitting perfectly against his. He swallowed the pain as you collided with him, took it in stride because it meant you were here.
You were sobbing, tears wetting the remnants of his suit.
“Don’t you ever,” you sniffled, slapping him on the chest for emphasis. “Ever, scare me like that again.”
Mark grinned with a wince, his hand flattening atop yours, fingers interlacing. You leaned back and met his gaze, and time slowed. The wind rustled your hair over a sun-kissed face, tears cleaving paths of crusted sand atop your cheeks.
You were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“I’ll do my best,” Mark finally replied, before leaning down. Oh so slowly. Slowly enough for you to stop him. Slow enough for you to move away.
But you didn’t stop him.
So Mark let his lips brush against yours. A whisper of a kiss.
But it was real.
And it was full of hope.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* ｡ﾟ☆ :. ───
Talescria was ablaze, residents screaming and blood spraying.
Legions of purple aliens aimed guns at anyone—and anything—they could. Flashes of white and gray zipped through the skies.
Sweat soaked your brow, making your hair stick to your neck. You somersaulted through a collapsed archway, the lilac marble crumbling to dust.
The Viltrumites had finally taken the offensive, after suffering countless losses against the coalition. It had been a shock to you all—the idea of winning.
But you were.
You landed on the ground, a shockwave sent in all directions. It turned the purple aliens to mist, their weapons disintegrating with them. Another one down, back to the fight. Oliver zoomed by, Omni-Man beside him. Oliver hooted in triumph as he watched your power work, zipping by to punch a Viltrumite directly in the face.
You eventually landed in an alcove, panting with your back pressed against the pale brick. You raked the back of your hand across your sweaty forehead. You jerked to the side as something landed beside you, readying to fight.
“Shh, it’s just me,” Mark murmured breathlessly, falling against the alley wall as well. You sighed in relief, chest aching at the mere sight of him.
“Are you—?”
Mark took a step toward you, hands sliding around you and pulling you close. You let him.
It…
It grounded you.
Your heart slowed, breathing evening out as he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed.
“I’m okay,” he answered softly, his own body seeming to calm from your touch. “We’re okay.”
You nodded, relaxing further, even with the distant clash and din.
“Let’s go finish this?”
You leaned back, offering Mark a timid smile before you both leapt back into the action.
You spat onto the dusty ground, the building crumbling in the distance. Mark was somewhere, along with his brother and father. But you didn’t want any of them here. Not for this. You wanted to handle her on your own.
Enact justice for what she’d done to Mark.
You stared her down, your power boiling in your veins.
Anissa.
The tall woman smirked back at you, dusting the debris from her suit. She might've been beautiful, with a slim, toned body highlighted well in her skintight suit, if not for the wicked cruelty that marred her face.
“I knew I should’ve killed you when I had the chance,” The Viltrumite sneered, cockingher head at you.
“You’ve been making empty threats for a while now. You threatened me. You threatened my home. You threatened and hurt Mark,” You hissed, your hood down and mask gone. You let her see all of you. Anissa’s lips quirked coldly.
“He enjoyed it.”
Anger boiled white hot within you, searing up your spine and down your arms. You went blind with rage, screaming as you unleashed the monster within you. Power blasted from your outstretched palms, electrifying the very air around you as it soared… And crashed into Anissa’s chest.
The woman screeched, hands flying up to her ears as she was thrown backward into the sky.
You leapt after her, shooting into the atmosphere. You didn’t give her the chance to react, slamming a fist into her abdomen. Anissa spiraled, blood spurting from her mouth, ears, and eyes. Power soaked the Viltrumite with every blow you landed, and you soon felt her eardrums rupture from your touch.
Oily satisfaction began to seep through you as you sent her tumbling toward the ground. Maybe she was screaming. Maybe she was pleading with you. But you were far too gone to hear.
Blast after blast, lacerating through her suit and hair and skin. Your skin began to glow with heat as you gained speed. Fear, true and raw, shone in her eyes as she stared up at you. Time seemed to slow as she finally met the surface of the planet. The sound of her impact ricocheted throughout the land, dust and debris spraying too far to see in a circle. You followed, voice roaring as you flipped your body and landed on your feet.
A wet crunch sounded as your heel went through Anissa’s neck, her head flying several feet away. And you panted, chest heaving as you wrenched the horrible thing up, thumbs digging into the eyes that stared up at you in permanent horror and shock. Your nails dug into her face, shredding the skin that had once made her beautiful.
“Savannah.”
Your vision blurred as memory after memory surged forward. Yes, Anissa was a horrible person, but she’d not brought your wildness to the surface. All the pain and suffering and hurt and conflict, it’d all come rushing to the forefront of your mind.
You were unleashing yourself not just upon one Viltrumite, but upon all Viltrumites. Taking it all out upon something tangible.
But, yes, Anissa was still horrible.
“Savannah.”
You jerked forward, straddling the body below you, eyes wide as you glanced up.
Mark, a few feet away, stared down at you, expression grave.
You blinked once. Twice. And realization sliced through your chest, a gasp escaping your lips as you dropped Anissa’s severed head. You gulped as your lungs constricted, finding your body covered in gore.
You had… Oh, God, what had you done?
The head and the body below you were nearly unrecognizable. You raised a blood-stained hand to your mouth without realizing, a shuddering sob escaping you.
“Oh, oh my god,” you whispered, body beginning to tremble. The shuffling sounds of feet crunching on dirt echoed in your ears, and suddenly he was here. Mark knelt beside you, and your eyes watched as Anissa’s blood began to seep into the bright blue of his suit.
“It’s over,” He was saying. “It’s done; they’re leaving.”
Mark, hands bloody, cradled your face. Tears filled his eyes as his thumbs stroked the tops of your cheeks.
You looked at him, exhaustion starting to weigh in your bones, but you nodded. You were okay. He was okay. He—
Your heart faltered as your eyes caught on the destroyed hip behind Mark’s head, fire and shrapnel falling like rain. Beyond it, through the haze, you caught the wisps of a figure. Looming in the smoke and destruction, clad in red robes and fur. Fury seemed to roll off of him, lethal and dangerous.
Your blood chilled, Mark’s voice faltering as he too noticed who was watching.
Thragg.
His eyes narrowed on you, and it was as if a noose slid itself around your neck.
Mine, to keep and to kill. To claim, conquer, and covet.
Mark turned, shielding you as he readied himself to fight again.
But it was unnecessary. Not as Thragg and his remaining soldiers disappeared into space.
Done. It was done.
But for how long?
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* ｡ﾟ☆ :. ───
Mark watched you, curled up on the edge of his bed, hair still dripping from the scalding hot shower you’d taken earlier. You were in a robe, the material slipping off your right shoulder, but he wasn't sure if you realized it or not.
He’d carried you here, had scrubbed the flesh and sinew from your skin, silent and protective. He wouldn’t let you out of his sight. Not now. Not ever.
Not after the look Thragg had given you.
Not after you’d destroyed Anissa.
He didn’t blame you for that; he just worried for your soul.
No, he’d keep you here and keep you safe.
But in order to have you completely again, he knew he’d have to confess. There would be nothing between you.
He knew what he had to do. And he'd do it.
He'd do it for you.
“Here, Sav,” Mark began, expression sullen. You blinked, brows furrowed, taking the steaming cup of herbal tea. “We have a lot to talk about.”
“Like?” You asked hesitantly. Mark sighed, sitting on the floor before you.
“I’m gonna tell you everything. The truth. Starting with Luke Charterman.”
A/N: here go besties! starting school! this story is slowly coming to an end :)
Characters: Mark Grayson/Invincible x Stripper!Reader
Warnings: NO USE OF Y/N, SMUT, rough smut, PinV (finally), Dirty Talk, no use of protection, exhibitionism, Mark is a whoooooore, oral (fem receiving), Dirty thoughts, possessive! Mark, barely proofread, Minors DNI.
Synopsis:
Part IV of Dance Me Brave
It's all fun and games... Until someone threatens your girl <3
Word Count: 2.9k
You whimpered, the sound muffled by the back of your hand, eyes rolling back.
God, you were seconds away from becoming a living flame. The sounds of distant honking and traffic dulled as a ringing began. You forgot you were fifteen minutes away from your next shift. You forgot you needed to check your makeup before waltzing out onto the floor. And you definitely forgot that you were pressed up against the outside of the club, skirt around your waist, and thong slid to the side, as Mark lapped at your pussy.
Your shoulders rubbed against the brick as you writhed, the one leg hooked around Mark’s shoulder, flexing as pleasure zipped up your spine.
Yes, yes, Mark was eating you out just outside the club. You’d been splayed wide like some common whore, Mark feasting on you and drawing sinful noises from your throat that you desperately tried to stop.
The bastard was grinning against your cunt as he pumped two fingers into you, his other hand gripping the leg over his shoulder, fingers digging into the fat of your thigh.
It was like this all of the time, his insatiable hunger getting the best of him, or yours getting the best of you, dragging the other person to the nearest surface to take and take and take. Teaching Mark how to eat a girl out had been a lethal mistake. Your pussy never got a break, not that you truly minded. It was simply moments like this, plastered against brick in the early evening for anyone to see. Being used under your lover’s tongue.
boyfriend.
Right, Mark Grayson was your boyfriend now.
And, he was Invincible. Shit, that too.
“Two minutes,” He murmured against your clit, tongue flicking around the bundle of nerves. You jerked against his face, face scrunching in pleasure. “Need another one outta you, baby girl. One more before you go.”
You whimpered, the hand over your mouth falling to your side, shaking your head weakly. This would be your third in thirty minutes. Mark was unlike any other at drawing your pleasure out of you. Those superhero traits really came in handy, you’d realized over the past months. He was never satisfied until you were boneless and trembling. Which you adored, except for now, when you were expected to work in a few moments.
“Mark,” You mewled, hips shifting away from his face. He merely growled, yanking you right back upon his lips, speeding his efforts until you were nearly buzzing. Your spine exploded, cunt clenching against his tongue. God, oh God, you were going to die. You threw your head back, his name becoming one long slurred mantra.
Until you were thrown over that edge, rolling against his face with wild abandon. Mark said nothing as he stood, licking his lips as he readjusted your skirt and thong. With a brisk kiss and swat to your ass, you were off to your shift at the club. Your legs felt like jelly in your clear pleasers, but oh-fucking-well. It was worth it for the best orgasms of your life.
You flew through the club, ignoring the yell of irritation from the club madam about you cutting it close. You darted around the low tables, multicolored lights flashing as they rehearsed for the dances planned that night. Kevin was inspecting the vip section, but still gave you a stiff smile as you passed him. You continued until you were shoving the dressing room door open with your hip.
“Look, who decided to finally show up, girls?” Cherry cooed, grinning at you in the reflection of the mirror as she applied lipstick. You rolled your eyes as catcalls filled the room, ignoring the wolf whistles as you set your bag down in your chair before the mirror. You hurried to stuff the gym bag into the locker behind you, shedding your skirt and T-shirt until you were in your club two-piece set.
“Don’t worry,” Called a low, sultry voice from behind you. You turned to find Emerald leaning against the makeup counter, smiling at you gently. “Kevin said everyone’s running a bit behind due to sound issues. You don’t have to rush.”
You nearly sighed in relief, slumping into the chair beside her and beginning to check your hair and makeup. Thank God.
“Thanks, Em.”
The woman stared down at you, arms crossed casually across her chest.
“No problem,” She cooed, pushing off from the counter beside you. “I’m glad you’re happy.”
You glanced at her from the mirror, raising your eyebrows.
“And what about you and his redhead friend?”
Emerald rolled her eyes playfully, delivering a kiss to your cheek.
“Yeah, well,” She brushed off with a grin, cheeks flushing as she swayed away.
You huffed, flinging your heels off as soon as you entered your apartment. Your bag slammed against the floor, along with your keys. You’d get them later in the day, when you had the energy. All you could do was shuffle through the darkened hallway, through the living room, and past the kitchen. The dim clock on the stove read, “2:30 A.M.” You longed for a shower, longed for sleep even more. All of that changed when you glanced down the hall to your bedroom, finding the door wide open. And, from where you were, you could just barely make out the outline of a hunched figure sitting upon your bed.
Your heart lurched into your throat at the sight, blood freezing. Who…?! Who the hell was in your house?! Fear prickled your arms as you began to shuffle backward.
“It’s me.”
That voice, gruff and gravelly and so very familiar, stopped you from fleeing.
You all but sobbed in relief as you started for your room and to Mark.
It was Mark, just Mark, just sweet, sweet—
You slowed to a stop as you finally entered your bedroom, the city lights shining in through your floor-to-ceiling windows and glinting off the bloodied and bruised skin of his face. You swallowed thickly, eyes falling down his body to see much of the same.
“Mark,” You breathed, lips beginning to tremble. “What happened?”
“”s just a tough fight,” He grumbled, still staring at the ground, head hung. “Someone knows you’re important to me. They threatened you tonight.”
Your stomach flipped, the gravity of his admission sinking into your bones. You took a deep breath. Okay, well, you hadn’t necessarily been discreet with Invincible. You often flew in his arms around the city, country, and beyond. Deep down, you knew someone would notice.
“They threatened me, by name?” You asked slowly. Mark shook his head.
“No, they don’t know who you are. Just that you exist.”
You nodded, mulling over the words. It didn’t take you long to realize you weren’t afraid, nor were you deterred by this information. If anything, it solidified what you’d already suspected.
About you.
About Mark.
About both of you.
And then, right then, you knew. Mark was more to you than a boyfriend, or a hookup, or a friend with benefits.
It went deeper than that now.
“Mark,” You whispered, knees meeting the floor as you knelt between his thighs. “I’m right here.” You cupped his cheeks gently between your hands, forcing him to look at you, pouring every ounce of sincerity you could offer into those words. “And, I’m not going anywhere.”
Mark’s eyes shuddered, worry and fear bickering though. But determination flooded right after, hole and promise igniting his gaze.
And suddenly his lips were on yours.
You gasped as his tongue split your lips, pouring desire and pain and longing and apology into a kiss that consumed you in fire. And you gave it all back, accepting the danger and everything with it if it meant you’d get him.
Him.
Your hands curled into his hair, tugging him closer. One of his palms cupped the nape of your neck, the other spreading against the small of your back.
You were his; your touch conveyed.
He was yours, his lips promised in return.
Together, you’d do this together.
At some point, he picked you up, the hand on your back cupping under one of your thighs and spinning you around until you were falling. Your back crashed against the comforter of your bed, a light laugh falling from your lips.
You blinked, finding Mark staring down at your body like it was a statue on display at the Louver.
“So, so beautiful,” He murmured, before reaching behind his head and tugging on the zipper within his suit. Until it pooled around his feet in a mess of blue and yellow. Mark climbed onto the bed, knees dipping between and spreading your thighs. He ducked his head, nose skimming along the seam of your shirt before pushing it up. Your toes curled as he began delivering featherlight kisses against the plane of your stomach. He continued until he’d pushed the material to clump around your collarbones.
“Arms up,” He said into your skin, humming in approval when you obeyed instantly, the thin material of your shirt brushing against your face as Mark peeled it off. He then dipped back down to your navel, and your mind went fuzzy as his tongue darted out to tease the line of skin just above your skirt. Soon, you were bare before him.
He backed up, chest heaving as he took you in, eyes glazed over. And, yes, he’d seen you naked plenty of times before. But this? This time felt different. The tension in the room, the weight in your lungs, the way the air settled around you- it was all different.
“Mine,” Mark murmured, eyes growing gentle. And suddenly your throat grew tight, the smile on his lips lighting something within your chest. Mark smiled back, Thumbs digging beneath the fabric of his boxers and pushing down.
And suddenly, nothing within you was ‘gentle.’ Hunger flared within you as his cock sprang free, the proud and generous length slapping against his muscled stomach. God, that cock. Memories of that cock hitting the back of your throat over and over again flashed through your mind, and you fought the urge to clamp your thighs together.
Mark’s nostrils flared, half-lidded gaze growing dark as it trailed down to the space between your legs. You shivered as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. He swooped down, beautiful back muscles flexing as he yanked you down the edge of your bed by your thighs. You gasped, slipping down the sheets until Mark’s face was level with your cunt.
He breathed in deeply, nose pressed against your mound.
“You have no fuckling idea how wild your scent makes me,” He purred, voice bordering on a whimper. His hands gripped your thighs, massaging them. “Gonna tie you to this bed and never let you leave. Feed and fuck you until your legs fall open automatically the moment you spot me.”
You mewled, hips grinding on air as the words settled within your aching core.
That molten look in his eye- you knew this time was different. You knew he had every intention of fucking you till dawn. You panted softly, jolting with every breath he sent over your swollen clit.
“Mark,” you whispered, his amber gaze flickering up to you. You didn't get to finish your plea, not as he dove in head first, spreading you with his hands and licking you up slowly.
You cursed, back arching, the breath disappearing from your lungs. The city lights that sparkled through your windows, casting shadows along your far wall, became irrelevant. The distant call of sirens and car honks faded into nothing as all your attention was turned to the way Mark’s tongue circled your clit.
It was maddening, the intense and precise maneuvers he enacted upon you, lapping at you with the flat of his tongue to sucking on your bud like a lollipop. You tried to writhe underneath him, the pleasure electrifying, but his grip on your thighs held.
You tried to speak, to tell him you wanted his cock pulsing within you, pumping deep, but you simply couldn't. He was too determined to fuck you silly with his tongue first.
And, boy, did he do a wonderful job, filling your cunt and curling the tip within your fluttering walls.
Broken moans spilled from your mouth like uncorcked wine, ricocheting off your bedroom walls.
You were going to marry this man, you decided in your euphoric bliss. No one else would ever experience his magical tongue.
The city was quiet, even the last scoundrels finally seeking refuge. Darkness blotted the buildings around your apartment, half of the lights that were there hours ago.
Tears brimmed in your eyes as a sob erupted from your chest. You rolled your hips curtly, grinding on Mark’s face.
“Please,” you cried, your previous tears nearly dry on your cheeks. Mark gummed against your clit, adding a third finger into you.
“One more, then you’ll be ready,” he promised, grinning as you clenched around his digits. Oh god, you were going to go insane. You'd had three orgasms, all to prepare you for his cock.
You were nearly boneless with pleasure, your body floating and detaching from your mind. Your hips burned as you continued to move them. Mark tutted against your mound, nipping it gently.
“Bounce.”
You did, with a shuddering exhale. Again and again and again. Your nails dug into your headboard, toes curling as you barreled toward that fourth orgasm.
Yes, yes, yes—
You fell apart, into a billion pieces, stars exploding across your eyelids. Head thrown back, you cried out long and languid as Mark worked you through your orgasm. His hands clasped around your hips, helping you to move when you could not.
Until you were spent, crumpled forward with your face pressed against your headboard. Your lungs ached, body nearly spent. Happy hormones floated through you, a sleepy smile overtaking your features.
Until you were jerked away, screaming as you twisted into the air… and plopped down on your back, skin hitting the sheets. You gasped, head spinning, blinking as the remnants of your orgasm drifted away.
Mark appeared above you, god-like and glistening, muscles rippling as he batted your legs apart. He looked ravenous, even after spending hours feasting on you. His cock stood proud and hard, precum beading on the top of his bulbous tip. His broad hands dove under the small of your back, pulling you up toward him. Your spine bridged, your breasts nearing his face. Mark hummed happily as he delivered a flurry of kisses to your nipples, suckling slightly before lowering you back down.
And you, even after all that had happened, were aching for him all over again.
“Mark,” you pleaded, voice weak and submissive. You could've sworn his eyes glowed at your tone. You suppressed a shiver as he cocked his head, a purely predatory move. “Please.”
Your heels pressed into the backs of his thighs, urging him to fall between your spread legs. Mark fell forward, catching himself with a hand positioned beside your head. You both hissed when his member nudged against your cunt. Oh god, you were going to go mad.
“Take me, Mark,” you began, truly begging, voice slurred. Your hands grabbed onto his shoulders. “Please, please, make me yours—truly yours. Claim me—ruin me for anyone else—!”
You choked as he entered you suddenly, your sex giving only slight resistance. Mark growled as he slid home, bottoming out with a sigh.
You could feel him in your fucking throat, stretching you perfectly, caressing every spot you had to offer.
His free hand gripped under your knee, hiking your leg up, and your eyes went wide as he slid in deeper.
“Oh fuck,” you groaned, eyes fluttering shut. Mark let out an incredulous laugh.
“You feel,” he began, a bit breathless. “Fucking incredible. Shoulda done this so much sooner—god, so tight and wet and warm and mine.”
He'd slid out only to plunge back in, taking your breath away. Your nails dug into his skin as he began to pump into you, deep and hard. He made you feel it. Made you understand who you'd given yourself to.
Over and over and over, hiking your leg higher until it was pressed against your chest. His body was nearly flush against yours, his lips capturing yours in a blazing kiss.
You met him thrust for thrust, core winding tight enough that you knew you were getting close. Your nipples grazed the hard planes of Mark’s chest, sending sparks down to your toes. Mark pulled back finally, his head falling to your neck.
“‘M getting close, pretty girl.”
You hummed your agreement, at a loss for words. Mark trailed his lips along your neck, suckling deep bruises into the flesh.
“Come on, baby, come on my cock,” He urged, teeth scraping against your skin. “Soak me, dirty girl.”
You might've screamed. Maybe you sobbed. Either way, you were no longer earthside, soaring through heaven and space as your orgasm rocked through you.
Waves of pleasure covered you, again and again. It was so good—too fucking good. You wouldn't let Mark do anything else but fuck you. You both would live in your bed.
Your oussy clamped down around Mark’s cock like a heartbeat, and soon he was stilling.
He shuddered, groaning low as he spilled into you.
“Fuuuuuck,” He swore, thrusting once more. Twice. Before he finally collapsed atop you.
You both were happily silent for a few moments, just embracing each other's presence. Until, at last, Mark grumbled,
“Ask for a vacation.”
Your brows knit in confusion.
“Where are we going?” you asked with a yawn, still under his body. Mark chuckled against your ear.
“Nowhere,” He answered. “You are going to take a week, and I'm going to use it to fuck you on every surface in this apartment.”
You were on the phone with the club madam before Mark could say another word.
A/N: and with that, our first mini series comes to a close :,) hope everyone enjoyed!! i sure did!!
also! like the character Emerald? She's inspired from another work! check it out here:
Tumblr is a place to express yourself, discover yourself, and bond over the stuff you love. It's where your interests connect you with your
How does one live when everything they've ever known and understood is flipped on its head? How does one love what once killed them?
!NOT PROOF/BETA READ!
enjoy!
wc: 2.5k
Nolan Grayson brushed the red sand from his hand, dust wafting into the dry air around him. He didn't spare a glance back at the enormous structures he'd created, their shadows looming far beyond him.
He didn't need to look.
Conquest was one of his kind, and yes, they shared traditions. But that didn't mean Nolan would allow himself to grieve. Not even a single look back.
The trip back to camp was quiet.
Nolan had contemplated a string of events for days now, over and over.
The way Conquest had stared at you, followed by Thradd and Lucan.
He saw the intrigue. The thirst.
And they'd vanished, most likely running right back to Thragg.
Nolan knew. He knew why the Viltrumite men had stared at her so. They’d realized Savannah Fawn was not only a threat. But a prize. An asset worth pursuing.
Because Nolan had realized the same thing.
But did he have the heart to tell her? Would she run for the rest of her life if it meant keeping her freedom?
If it meant not staying to see if Mark survived?
Nolan sighed as he neared the camp, his eyes trailing over the expanse of the camp to find where you were. There, like you had been since they'd arrived, you were kneeling by Mark’s unconscious form. Hands resting over his chest as if you could transfer your strength to him.
Nolan said nothing as he passed you, continuing on to Oliver. You were useless, refusing to leave his side, so it was more a matter of protecting both of you.
And training his other son.
You knew he watched you. You knew they both did, Oliver and Nolan. Oliver merely watched you as you watched Mark.
But Nolan? He analyzed you. He observed the way you reacted, moved, and breathed.
As if finally realizing the threat you were. Or maybe… realizing how you could be the ticking time bomb you secretly knew you were.
The way those viltruimtes had eye-fucked you like you were their savior—their cure—had been scorched in your brain. Forever on repeat.
You realized the sobering truth at the same time Nolan had.
You didn't care. It wouldn't take you away from Mark. No, you wouldn't leave him. Never again.
Never again.
Even if you didn't know how you felt in that aching, blistering heart of yours, you'd sworn the moment your eyes had spotted him.
Where he went, you'd follow.
Your eyes were rarely dry, aching, and blurry as you stared down at his body. His body, broken and twisted and near ruined, just barely beginning to heal.
That sight, God, you’d never forget it.
Mark, crumpled on the ground, his intestines hanging outside of his body. Blood wetting the sand beneath him, tainting it rust colored. The shallow, ragged gasps escaping his mouth, his bruised chest rising and falling awkwardly.
The sounds of a dying man, just barely past his childhood. The one who'd held your heart your entire life, choking on his own blood. The boy you'd loved until it had killed you, on the edge of life and death himself.
You were sure he'd die, and had spent the night wetting his skin with your tears. But then… he didn't die.
“Please,” He whimpered, blood dribbling from his lips. “Help me.”
He’d never felt so weak. So frail and useless and—
The world darkened.
His breathing faltered, staggering and useless.
He was going to die.
He was going to die on a strange, desolate planet, so far from home.
But he couldn’t think about that—didn’t think about that.
No, he didn’t think about his mother. Or of Oliver. Or of his friends on Earth. Not even of his father.
There, the sand clumping together underneath his body, coagulating the blood pooling there, staring up at the sky.
All he could think about... Was you.
You, where were you? Were you safe? Were you even alive? He could still picture the way Conquest had dragged his oily gaze down your body, like you were some grand prize to capture. He prayed—oh, how he prayed—that you were safe and far from any Viltrumite’s grasp.
Even his own.
He never should’ve messed with you.
Never should’ve tainted you with his touch.
Maybe then you would be in some normal college in a normal town, with some ordinary boy. Someone who hadn’t put you through hell and back only to throw you right back into the fire—
Mark gasped, fire slicing through his lungs. He—fuck—he couldn’t… He wouldn’t be able to—
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* ｡ﾟ☆ :. ───
You tucked your feet under your body, sitting on your heels. A dry breeze rustled your hair, the sun baking the bar skin of your back. You’d forgone your suit, settling for the thin biker shorts and bandeau bra that you wore underneath your stealth suit.
You were beyond exhausted, starving for something other than worm guts, and nearly hopeless. But you continued to sit, every day, and watch him. Watch the steady, even if weak, rise and fall of his chest. Watch his skin oh-so-slowly stitch itself back together. Watch his face, blank and peaceful, until the moment his eyes stirred. Until the moment he awoke.
The orange sky cast Mark in a feverish glow, the sweat on his brow glistening as you raised a trembling hand to brush back his hair. It was beginning to get long.
A month had passed. Nolan said it would take time. Oliver had reassured you that he was strong. You knew that. You knew he was strong.
Now you had to convince yourself to be strong as well.
You settled against the edge of the cliffside alcove, your scraped hands curling around the rocky ridge. Bitter nothingness spread all around you. Dust and rock and clay. A no one, save for the Viltrumites training in the distance… and the one fighting for his life behind you.
Succeeding, if Nolan was to be believed. You eyed the father and son duo in the distance, watching as Oliver advanced once more on Nolan.
They seemed to be doing better, relationship-wise. At first it had been extremely rocky, with the teenage boy ignoring his father like he was the plague.
But then, confrontation had become inevitable. You hadn't been present for the fight and didn't care to know the details.
Watching Oliver open up and warm up to Nolan had made a spark of bitter longing seep into your mind upon witnessing the transition.
You wished it was the same between you and Oliver. You wished you could explain to him your reasoning behind disappearing.
But you knew it was easy and it wouldn't ever be. Especially now that he was on the mend with his dad.
A month had passed, trudging by like a snail with no intention of truly moving forward. You’d resorted to watching the skies. For anything. For everything.
Dinner was a product of the worms, once again. A structure had slowly been built from the shrapnel still littering space above them, with you aiding them with your new strength.
You ate in silence, huddled around the fire with the rest of them.
“Did you ever train, Sav?”
You blinked, nearly choking on worm guts. Looking up, you confirmed that Oliver had indeed asked you a question.
“Uh… What?”
A dumb response. Great job. Oliver smiled slightly at your surprise. Nolan’s gaze shot up from his plate, eyes glinting in the firelight as he watched you with mild curiosity.
“You fight like you’ve had training,” Oliver explained, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I just… I just wanted to know.”
You cleared your throat, nodding almost immediately.
“Yes! Well, only for about eight months? And it was more like studying clips of other fights and replicating moves and techniques.”
Oliver nodded slowly, eyes falling back to his plate.
“You know,” Nolan suddenly spoke, voice gruff. “If you wanted to join our lessons, I would be glad to train you.”
You tried not to balk. Your eyes flickered between the two Viltrumites, recognizing the damage you’d done. After threatening Nolan the way you had, you hadn’t expected him to ever talk again, much less offer lessons.
And Oliver? Oliver.
You swallowed, nothing audible but the faint breeze in the distance.
“If that’s alright with Oliver, of course.”
“Duh,” Oliver replied instantly, rolling his eyes. You nodded sheepishly, mind whirling.
“And, Mark?” You asked. Nolan’s eyes flew over to his son, nothing but ease in those blue depths.
“Mark is past the most dangerous time. He’ll be fine left alone for a while each day."
You couldn't suppress the surge of emotion through your chest, nervous excitement tingling down your spine.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* ｡ﾟ☆ :. ───
“You have the Viltrumite’s ability to fly, meaning you can create leverage anywhere,” Nolan explained, powerful leg muscles flexing as he zipped around you. You listened eagerly, Oliver just behind you. You watched as Nolan demonstrated moves and maneuvers, the irony not lost on you.
This was, in fact, the man that had decimated your home and the people you’d loved.
Love.
Present tense?
Oh God, you couldn’t think about all of that right now.
Nolan had you and Oliver run drills every day for a week straight, until you were sure you’d recite his callouts in your sleep. You and Oliver giggled at the other's missteps, collapsing in a heap of pride when you'd both completed a particularly difficult routine. Mark grew stronger, never stirring, and you watched from afar.
You ran gauntlets, trained and fought and learned. And fuck was it confusing to understand your feelings and catalog what everything meant.
You took it one day at a time. Train, care for Mark, train, figure Nolan Grayson out, train, foster a relationship with Oliver once again. Rinse, repeat. Rinse, repeat.
By the end of the sixth week, a sort of understanding had settled between the three of you. You’d become, at least temporarily, a team.
A team.
You wouldn’t voice what it truly felt like.
The beginnings of a family.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* ｡ﾟ☆ :. ───
You stared out across the desert lake, the weirdest contradiction you'd ever seen. Yes, you knew desert lakes were possible back on Earth, and did exist, but you'd yet to see one.
Until now. On this dusty-ass planet.
You snorted softly, shaking your head as you eased into the water. It felt heavenly against your bare skin, crystal clear and perfectly chilly against the dry heat.
The boys were miles away, harvesting more of the worms’ eggs for dinner as well as for Mark.
You swallowed, thoughts ever lingering on him. It had been a mental roller coaster, these past few weeks. Making sense of your life, your last with Mark, the person he was now. And then the training you'd been receiving, growing closer to Oliver and Nolan, of all people.
You couldn't tell up from down at this point. What was moral? What was the right call? Would you even know it if it smacked you in the face?
Not to mention the ever-apparent dark cloud in your mind, reminding you of the war that was still very much going on.
Would Earth even exist when they got off this planet?
If they got off?
You sighed in frustration, dragging your hands down your face. With a great exhale, you dove into the water, the pressure swallowing you and making you feel weightless.
You let yourself float, the rainwater cleansing your body and hair as you held your breath. The lake was small and relatively shallow, only about eight feet deep. But it was pleasant… and different. Something completely silent and vacant and yours.
At some point, your body broke the surface, nipples pebbling as the air rushed over them. You opened your eyes, staring upward.
Dusk settled along the sky, the copper colored horizon melting into indigo-dipped onyx. With each blink, a new star winked into existence. They were so beautiful. Reds and blue and—
A shadow flashed in your peripheral vision, along the sides surrounding the basin. You jerked upward, water splashing as you whirled around. Your feet barely scraped the sandy bottom, but it was enough for you to balance. And find…
Nothing.
You blinked, your hands already wrapped around your breasts to cover them, letting the seconds tick by. But nothing appeared. The desert was quiet, apart from the whispering breeze. You felt nothing, no life signatures apart from the worms far off.
Maybe it had been an insect? A… really large insect?
You took a steadying breath, relaxing back into the water. God, you were going crazy—
Sav.
You yelped at the voice that had sounded right by your ear, propelling yourself back in the water until your ass scraped against the sandy shore. Your spine sang in pain at the collision, but you paid it no mind. Not as you monitored the middle of the lake, where you'd been. Heart racing, ears roaring, the hair on the back of your neck standing to attention. But again, nothing. Nothing awry, save for the stirred, now murky water.
The voice had to have been real, though—had to have been.
It had been so, so very familiar, tingling the edge of your brain like you were missing some obvious detail. Your eyes raked over the shoreline, all around you. But there was nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing.
You swallowed your panic, assuring yourself you weren't going insane as you pushed yourself up. You began to head toward your pile of clothes. It was pretty dark now, the last rays of sunlight casting a silhouette over the crests of the dunes. You hissed as you struggled to keep your footing in the shifting sand.
Going so soon?
You screamed as a hand wrapped around your ankle, yanking you down. Pain exploded behind your eyes as your head knocked against the ground, skin grating against the pulling sensation. Your heart leapt into your throat as you were dragged back toward the water by a shadowy figure. You couldn’t catch your breath. You couldn’t gain your bearings—
Your hands splayed wide, nails digging into the loose sand. But you were too weak against the iron-like grip locked around your ankle.
Your naked body had just barely touched the water when a strong figure collapsed atop you, fitting directly between your thighs. You whirled, making to hit him, but the man was two steps ahead, pinning your wrists beside your head. You couldn’t move, as if his body bore the weight of an entire star.
What—you were stronger than this?! What the fuck was happening—
As if some horrible crescendo had arrived, your vision cleared. And his face came into view.
Your blood turned to ice, the acidic fury in your throat turning to ash as you realized who was above you.
Sinister.
You were paralyzed. It wasn’t fucking possible. The man grinned wickedly at your fear, swooping down to lick a broad strip up the side of your face. He nuzzled into your neck, breathing deeply.
“Hello, little one.”
A/N: I AM ONCE AGAIN ASKING FOR FORGIVENESS FOR MY LATENESS AHHHHHH HATE MYSELFFFFF
You stare at him, and your life flashes through what was. What could've been. What could be still. Is this enough? To be here with him in this moment, when it might be your last? You don't know. You don't know much of anything anymore.
!NOT PROOF/BETA READ!
enjoy!
wc: 2.8k
Mark stared down at you, at the features of your face which were softened by sleep. He fought every urge to run the back of his hand down the side of your face.
Mere hours ago, he’d had you again, made your body his home. Memories flashed by into the real thing. You were tangible. You were his.
And now he wasn’t sure if he’d lost you forever or not.
He was tempting fate by simply being here in your room. At any point, you could wake up and find him lurking.
But he couldn’t help it. He had to see you, to know that you were okay… even if he knew deep down you weren’t. Not really.
But neither was he.
He racked his brain as the minutes ticked on, like molasses. What had changed your mind? How much had you changed? Was there reconciliation?
Could he ever call you his again?
A dark thought flared in his mind and spread through his chest, whispering that you were already his and always had been. That he’d done dangerous and unforgivable things to keep you within his grasp.
And none of it had mattered, another voice pointed out.
Not after last year.
Mark left sometime after that thought, heart aching. Maybe things could be fixed between you both. But they’d never be the same.
Yes, people grew, and yes, he was aware that it was naive to think you’d both be the exception. Mark had never had it easy; you arguably had it worse than him.
But still, he found himself hoping.
You left your room at dawn cpc (current planetary cycle), shuffling down the corridor toward the mess hall. You were still dressed in your pajamas, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, as you passed through the sliding doors.
Only to find yourself with company. Mark sat in the booth, nursing a cup of coffee and massaging his temples with his free hand.
His eyes met yours instantly, surprise flashing through them before fading into a slicing sadness. Both were brief, though, cooling to a faint wariness. You took a steadying breath, your eyes dancing around the room as you gathered your thoughts. Across the room and through the windows, space soared by in splashes of starlight. The ship only trembled slightly, even though you knew you were absolutely speeding through the cosmos.
It made something in your chest lighten as the mess hall's coziness settled over you. Posters were plastered above the machine counter, evidence of them being taped together over and over by the paint peeling with them. Below them, the mismatched parts of machines that had been tinkered with for years sat upon the counter, stained with coffee mug rings. Trinkets, bobbles, and books littered the various free spaces throughout the room. Hand-stitched pillows sat nestled in the booths or the chairs and benches. A family lived here, or at the very least, a community.
It made something ache within you, a strange longing causing your throat to burn. That feeling chased you as you turned to look at Mark once more.
“I…” You began, your words sticking to your tongue. You cleared your throat before trying again. “I, uh, I’m sorry for kicking you out of your room last night.”
Mark blinked, disbelief loosening his features before he regained his composure.
“Oh! Uh,” His lips pursed together, brows contorting as he untangled his mind. “No worries at all. Use it whenever you need.”
Okay, Mark thought with no small amount of confusion, so you were moving on from last night? Got it, got it… He could move on if that meant you’d still talk to him. Even if it was with that shaky, small voice you got when you felt fragile. Mark felt his heart squeeze painfully as he glanced down and found your hands balled into fists. He would’ve bet all he had that your nails were slicing through your palms. And from the looks of it, you didn’t realize you were doing it.
He reminded himself that jumping up and uncurling each beautiful finger wouldn’t be the best thing when he was sure you were one move away from sprinting back to your room.
“You brought a Seance Dog poster…?”
A beat passed before Mark realized you’d actually spoken again. His lips parted before closing again.
“Um,” He began, brain finally catching up with him. “Yeah. It’s not only my favorite, but it’s Oliver’s too. and it’s… A piece of home.”
You nodded, taking a tentative step further into the room. Further toward him.
“He hasn’t spoken to me,” You whispered, smiling sadly as you gazed at the floor. Mark’s chest tightened at the words.
“He… He is just trying to understand things. He’s young,” Mark murmured, thumb tracing along the ceramic surface of his mug. “Give it time and let him come to you… If that’s what you want, of course.”
Because who knew if you were going to stay after all of this? Mark almost laughed. If you all even survived whatever this was.
You nodded slowly, guilt casting shadows over your pretty face. Another step toward the table, your body loosening along with it.
“It’s so weird how quickly he’s grown,” You chuckled softly, eyes flashing up to Mark’s. There was a secret message hidden there. You were trying, in whatever capacity you could. Whether it was for him or yourself, you were making an effort to be here before him. Present and as open as you could be after everything that had happened.
Mark tried to stop the hope that swelled within him.
“Yeah, yeah, he’s grown into quite the little asshole, for sure,” He snickered. “But he’s so devoted to mom and to helping me out. And now with all the superhero stuff.”
Mark’s eyes followed you as you walked over to the coffee machine and poured yourself a cup from the pot he’d made. You cupped the steaming cup between your palms, back resting against the counter as you faced him.
Silence fell between both of you, but it wasn’t awkward. Mark’s ears picked up the strong thumping of your heart, steady and unhurried, for the first time in days. How many times had he fallen asleep to that sound? How many times had he latched onto it as if it were a beacon bringing him home? If everything had changed, then at least that had stayed the same. And if you never wanted anything to do with him again, he’d latch onto that fact. That wonderful, simple thrum.
Mark swallowed thickly, his eyes trailing back up to your face. Where he found you already watching him, with an expression that sent spikes through him. Melancholy, if not wistful.
“We were pretty good, huh?” You whispered. Mark straightened, but remained sitting. He took a deep breath, holding your gaze.
“Well, we weren’t without our faults, but… yeah, yeah, we were.”
Your eyes were brimming with unspoken words, apologies, and wishes, mere seconds away from falling from your beautiful lips. Mark silently willed them into existence.
Just give in to me, he pleaded silently, I promise I won’t hurt you.
And maybe you would have. Maybe everything would have been saved in that moment.
if not for the blaring alarms and flashing red lights.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* ｡ﾟ☆ :. ───
You could barely breathe, having just barely changed into your suit when Telia screamed over the intercom,
Your eyes widened, heart in your throat, as the ship rocked to the side. Your vision tunneled, sparks flying as you stumbled down the hall.
No, no, no, this couldn’t be happening.
You choked as a pipe to your left burst, gas shooting into your face. Your hands flailed upward, covering your face, and you clambered onward. Your boots slammed against the floor, the sound barely registerable over the groaning of metal and alarms.
You were lost, your senses a mess, and no fucking use.
The past week had confused you and disarmed you, and you hadn’t been ready for an ambush.
Fucking ameture.
And now it might just cost you your life.
You were sprinting, leaping over flames and fallen furniture. Mark, Mark, Mark. He was screaming for you, somewhere near the front of the ship. But you knew you’d never make it in time. And so you set out to make at least one wrong right again. The ship lurched, your body sliding with it. You grunted as your hip collided with the wall with a smack, pshing off without focusing on the flare of pain lancing up your side.
“Oliver!” You bellowed, eyes watering from the smoke. You peeled a malfunctioning door from its hinges as if it were made of leaves, chucking it behind you before pushing forward. “Oliver, where are you!”
“Five!” Telia warned on the intercom, voice clipped. Your stomach flipped.
Fuck, fuck, fuck—
Somewhere, beyond the ship, a boom split the void beyond, the sound reverberating through the walls. Fear prickled your spine, and you moved faster.
“Four!”
You yelped as a support beam knicked your shoulder as it crashed to the ground.
“Three.”
“Oliver!” You called again and again until your throat was raw.
“Two.” Telia’s voice was mournful. You could hear Mark shouting in the background for her to stop.
You rounded a corner, skidding to a halt. There at the end of the hall, Oliver appeared. Panic had paled his features, eyes wide as he met your stare.
“Sav?” He cried out, and you leaped into the air. Soaring through the hallway.
“One.”
And just as the ship morphed into flames and shrapnel, you grabbed Oliver and tucked him to your chest.
You were floating, light as a feather and blissfully numb.
You couldn’t recall a moment so euphorically empty. Time stretched on like taffy, bending and pulling along the winking edges of darkness, slinking about your mind. And you were content.
You couldn’t remember what you’d been doing before this or even how you got here. Didn’t matter, though. Nothing mattered, really.
You wer a speck in a glittering ocean of onyx, free-falling into nothingness. On and on and on and on—
Savannah.
Something in your formless body shifted. Paused. Listened. But that whisper was gone. Whatever it had been, it had vanished now.
And you trailed along the current that pushed you further into the void. swallowed into the abyss with open arms and—
Savannah!
Something jolted, a beat like a giant drum deep within your center. The sound tore through the peaceful silence around you, eerie and powerful. You shuddered. What was that? That force. That voice had returned, beckoning you.
You turned, body growing heavy and brain muddled.
The current was strong now, eager to sweep you into the darkness. Whether you wanted to go or not.
“Wait,” You murmred, voice muffled and weak.
Sav, please, you have to wake up!
A surge of urgency rushed through you, prickling down your limbs as they began to materialize. And you were kicking against the river, fighting to get back to that beacon. A pinprick of light, piercing the never-ending blackness.
You knew that voice. You’d know it even if you’d never met him and had lived for a thousand years, roaming the desolate earth. Only to hear that voice, like liquid honey and home. He sounded like home.
Tears flowed down your baby-soft cheeks as you sprinted toward him, growing stronger with each leap. The light grew brighter and fiercer.
Home, home, home.
To Mark.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* ｡ﾟ☆ :. ───
Everything hurt. Scratch that, it felt as if someone had skewered you with a searing fence post. Blinking, you waited for your vision to stop doubling everything.
“…That’s it… Breathing… Right here with… Sweet girl please…”
You groaned, finally able to fully open your eyes. You found Mark in front of you, his hands cupping your face. Staring down at you, brown eyes wide with fear and pleading. Fear, that quickly melted to relief.
And your heart skidded to a stop. Stars flickered just behind his head, the light casting a halo around his head and figure. And he was so, so, very beautiful.
And then a shooting star burned across the expanse of space behind him. Woah—Wait, wait… That was not a shooting star, but a piece of burning hull. From a spaceship. Your ship!
You lurched forward, Mark’s hands flying down to grip your shoulders.
Savvy, hold your breath, you’re in space, he ordered, voice echoing in your head brutally.
You winced, recoiling and shielding your ears. In doing so, you glanced downward. Only to find a gaping wound in your abdomen.
Suddenly, you felt every split nerve, burning like the stars around you.
M-Mark, you whimpered, hands trembling as they went to grasp your injury. Mark’s hands shot out and enveloped yours.
No, baby, don’t touch it, it’s already healing. Look at me.
You did, just as something flickered in your peripheral. Mark’s eyes gleamed as his thumb caressed your hands.
You, his voice thick with emotion, you saved Oliver.
And you would’ve responded. Until you saw them.
And your heart dropped, blood freezing as you beheld the three Viltrumites hovering just beyond the carnage.
Your jaw dropped as you beheld the impossible.
Conquest
The great hulking mass of a man grinned.
Interesting, he grunted, eyes glittering as they traveled over you
No, you thought, horror lancing up your spine. Mark was rigid beside you, jaw tight.
Time slowed, everything molding and melting into one blurred image. No, no, no--
Until, at last, the boy beside you erupted with anger.
We killed you once, Oliver growled, we’ll do it again!
You and Mark screamed as the younger boy shot straight for the behemoth warrior.
Blood splattered and coagulated in space, painting the shrapnel and machinery floating by. You soared, lungs aching as you landed another hit on a Viltrumite twice your size. They’d completely caught you off guard. Your heart sang in your ears, the roar only magnified when you lost sight of Mark.
You thought you’d entered that calm. That lethal focus that you usually developed while on a mission.
And a part of you had, keeping you quick on your toes as you evaded the men behind you. But you couldn’t help the worry that coated your tongue as you looked for him.
You swung around, vaulting off a support beam, swinging your heel into the jaw of the bald Viltrumite. A satisfying crack sounded in your ears, the soldier growling as he rebounded through space.
You were exhausted, body burning and bruised. The taste of blood was a constant in your mouth. But you kept fighting. You had to help Mark and Oliver, the latter having descended onto the planet directly below.
A sonic boom, and your head whipped to find Conquest soaring after him. And then Mark, after Conquest. And Nolan after Mark.
Fuck—
You helped as something stung the still-healing wound in your side, whirling to find a small army headed straight for you.
Purple aliens in suits, blasters all aimed for you.
Fuck, okay, think.
And then the idea came to you, clear as day.
You closed your eyes, hands balling into fists by your sides. And you spiraled down into that great, devastating pit within yourself. Until your feet hit the soft soot bottom. It swarmed all around you, roaring deep in your ears. Your power.
And with a deep breath, you crouched down and launched upward. With your power barreling after you.
Your eyes opened to find the army of purple soldiers mere feet away.
With a shattering scream, you extended your palms and released that energy you’d gathered. A shock wave exploded from you, surging for the enemy.
Until that purple army was nothing but mist.
Decimated to the very last atom.
The two remaining Viltrumites gaped at you, eyes wide in disbelief.
You didn’t give them a chance to gain their bearings as you plummeted into the planet’s atmosphere.
There were chasms carved, and craters conjured, scarring the face of the planet. You could do nothing but gaze on in horror at the destruction caused by the Viltrumites.
You swallowed your despair as you pushed yourself to fly faster. Through the smoke and the dust billowing in clouds taller than some skyscrapers at home. Home, your heart ached. God, you were so fucking far from home. Stuck millions of miles away fighting a war you didn’t ask for.
“Sav!”
You slammed to a halt, jerking around just as Oliver appeared. Blood stained his lips and chin, as well as the skin under his eyes.
“Ol—“ You began, sickened by the damage.
“Sav,” Oliver whispered, voice trembling. Your breath caught, lodging in your throat. That tone. That finality and grief.
No.
No.
You shook your head, catching Nolan appearing in your peripheral vision. But it was only the two of them. Your gaze flickered to Omni-Man, the same dread and panic coating his features.
“Where is he?” You mumured, voice tunneling in your ears. You were going to be sick. Tears welled in your eyes as your heart began to shatter into a billion billion pieces.
“Where is he?!”
A/N: depression is not the move and honestly besties 10/10 wouldn't recommend. let's just pretend i posted this three days ago ahahhaahah
warnings: smut (more implied), swearing, dirty thoughts, dub - con, more like non - con, drugg!ng, k!dnapping, bloodplay, a/b/o (but like only slightly), heat/rut.
wc: 2.3k
You were a science experiment. A last resort, made by Cecil Steadman, to stop Mark Grayson and his father from taking over the world.
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.
Two weeks. That's it. That's all you've got to do. Spend two weeks in a confined space with your ex. Your... Hot... Deliriously hot ex.
Oh God, this won't end well.
Warnings: PTSD, Smut, PinV, Swearing, Dirty talk, not safe for minors
!NOT PROOF/BETA READ!
enjoy!
wc: 4.3k
The next twelve hours were hell. Sequestering yourself in your quarters turned out to be a one-way ticket to insanity.
You wondered, exploring the same five hundred square feet over and over again.
Your bed, and then thoughts of Mark snuck in. So, onto the common room. Flashes of his face.
So, onto the bathing chamber—you made it all of one step before turning right back out.
He was everywhere. Lurking behind your eyelids like some leech, only given power by your own dread.
Mark didn’t stop by your room. He didn’t even get near your wing. You could hear the entire hallway, and while Zoe slipped from the lift to her room, no one else followed her.
You could feel him, though. As if his signature had been branded into your bones, you knew exactly where he was.
God, you’d dated this man for over a year. You knew him. Of course, you could face him.
You needed to face him.
A small part of you whispered that you owed Mark a chance to prove himself different from his Variants.
But it wasn’t enough to force you from your safety net. At least for the first day.
But then another passed.
And then another.
“No,” You finally hissed, standing so fast from your desk that the chair toppled over. “No, I’m no coward.”
You weren’t afraid. Not anymore.
Not anymore.
You repeated those words until they were seared into your mind.
Down the hall, lights flickering in time with your raging heart. Onto the lift, monitoring your breathing. The frequencies shifted around you, nervous and swarming. You curled your hands into fists, letting the energy ripple and calm until it dissipated.
Not afraid.
Not anymore.
The doors slid open, and life signatures whispered to you through the invisible currents, from rooms within rooms. All in the mess hall, one glowing like a beacon in your mind.
You swallowed thickly, ignoring the way your soul latched on to him like a moth drawn to a flame.
He wasn’t alone, of course. You could feel Omni-Man there with him, along with Oliver and Zoe. Your superhearing picked up the soft chatter of the latter, while your other senses registered the palpable tension in the room.
Not afraid. Not anymore. Not anymore—
The chatter stopped when you finally entered the mess hall, four pairs of eyes landing on you.
But you could only stare at Mark, whose face was guarded and grim, but his eyes were swarming with emotion. Pain and regret and longing so brutal it cut through you like a blade.
But you let your gaze fall, saying nothing as you stalked over to the window seat.
Minutes passed before Zoe began a conversation with Oliver, muffled and timid. Swallowing, you risked a glance over to them. You found Mark’s brother already staring at you beneath furrowed brows. The look could have stopped you dead in your tracks.
Pain, bordering on betrayal. Hurt so deep it left you raw simply from witnessing.
But worse?
Hope, lying there nearly hidden within his gaze.
And you had to look away.
“Alright, everyone, eat up!” Allen chirped, passing out bowls. It was nearly eight in the solar cycle, hours past when you’d first entered the mess hall. Your eyes passed over the assembled crowd, everyone but Telia crowded around the long table in the middle of the room. Bowls of mysterious pink… Goop, were being passed around. You watched, silent, as Nolan approached his youngest son with a dish… Only for Oliver to turn his shoulder, take a bowl from Zoe, and follow her to a booth.
You averted your gaze as if it would shield Nolan from the shame he most likely felt.
“Here.”
Your head snapped back to find Mark standing before you, hand outstretched with a bowl for you. You stared at the food, then at the hand holding it, and then finally at the man offering the bowl. And your heart lurched, even if your mind grew weary.
You blinked, twisting your hands in your lap as you began to worry your lip. Mark sighed through his nose, face falling fractionally.
“It’s just dinner, Sav,” He whispered, eyes pleading. Take it, they seemed to say, please, please, just take it.
You nodded slightly, more to psych yourself up than to agree with him. And then you went to grab the bowl.
Your fingers just barely grazed his, and suddenly lightning zapped up your arm. Fire raced through your veins at the contact, powerful enough that you couldn’t help as you lost grip on the bowl. Pink goop splattered as the bowl crashed against the floor. The clatter ricocheted off the ship's wall, a nasty and wicked sound.
The world seemed to slow as your eyes flew up to Mark’s, only to find his locked on the expanse of skin that had grazed yours. And you simply couldn’t help the familiar rush of heat flaring within you, your core tightening.
Mark seemed to force his eyes away from his hand and to your face.
His look cut through your soul, setting it ablaze.
“I… I should,” You stammered, caught in his gaze like a deer in headlights. “I… The bowl.”
Mark coughed, blinking rapidly and shaking his head before taking a step backward. As if… As if he’d found himself again. And suddenly, he couldn’t seem to meet your gaze.
“Don’t worry about it,” He murmured. “I’ll take care of it—just… Need a moment.”
Mark was out of the mess hall before he could even finish his sentence. And you were stuck staring after him, feeling as if you’d been hit by an asteroid.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* ｡ﾟ☆ :. ───
The next morning, you made it to the mess hall. And the bridge. You even found yourself brave enough to simply wander, entranced by all the views of space the Venture had to offer.
And so you wandered and wandered and wandered. Until sometime after lunch, you were traipsing about the halls when you heard a strange commotion around one corner.
Rounding the corner, you found Telia, the perfect picture of reserved worry, standing over one of the open maintenance hatches.
Another glance revealed Oliver to the side, who gave you a small, half-hearted smile as he rifled through a red toolbox. And then, of course—
“Ol, can you hand me that wrench, please?”
Mark, in the hatch.
Telia stood above the hatch, hands on her hips as she surveyed Mark’s work. Oliver obliged his brother by dropping the tool into the floor.
“Uh, is everything…” You began, voice meek. Clearing your throat, you tried again. “Is everything alright?”
Telia whirled upon hearing you, her skin glowing in the fluorescent lighting.
“Oh, Savannah! Yes, um, there was just a leak from the compressor that caused a fracture in the shields.”
You blinked, brows furrowing.
“Right,” You said slowly. “And…?”
Telia’s lips quirked, eyes dancing as she turned and gestured to the open hatch in the floor.
“Mark is doing me a favor and fixing it.”
And as if he’d been summoned by a magic wind, Mark climbed out of the hole, using his arms to lift himself up and out. Shirtless. Because, of fucking course, he was.
Bulging, toned arms flexed, glistening with sweat. He was covered in grease, coating his olive skin in a glorious sheen that you found yourself suddenly weighing the risks of licking said grease—
You choked, swaying on your feet as your face began to flush. Especially as Mark glanced up at you from his knees, his hair messy and falling into his eyes. Dark, deep brown eyes staring innocently up at you, unaware of the heat it caused within your core.
“Sav,” Mark murmured in greeting, before reaching for the towel thrown over the toolbox beside him. You merely nodded, too stunned for words. What the fuck was wrong with you? One look at your sweaty ex and you suddenly couldn’t think straight? Like you were some horny teenager all over again?!
Well, technically, you were—
Ugh, that wasn’t the fucking point!
The point was that it stumped you beyond reason why one glance had you spiraling into fantasies of Mark pinning you up against the wall, right there…
Ripping your clothes off and making you take every aching inch of him—
“Savannah.”
You snapped back to reality, trembling, eyes whipping down to Mark’s face.
Only to find his jaw clenched. Eyes, nearly swallowed whole by his pupil. Glancing down, you found his hands gripping the wrench so tightly it had started to bend.
And it hit you like a train.
Mark could smell you.
Your eyes widened, jaw threatening to drop as you staggered backward. Oh fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck—
“Uh, I gotta, uh,” You stammered, heart beginning to stampede. You couldn’t think, your brain too jumbled with hormones and mortification to form sentences. You resorted to sprinting from the hall, all the way to your room, and into an ice-cold shower.
Which, lucky you, didn’t help. Your hands, however, did do a decent job. Enough to stave off the raging hunger.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* ｡ﾟ☆ :. ───
You swallowed deftly, tucking your chin atop your knees. The view outside of the ship was reminiscent of all the winters spent in Chicago, the headlights of your mother’s car catching the fat snowflakes that kissed the windshield before dissolving into the night.
Your mother, of course, who now believed you were dead. Who’d moved away from the city and even the state. All memories of your old life, gone. Except for the man sitting beside you, whose shoulders were hunched as he stared at his lap.
The only person who felt like you did. Hurt like you did. The only person whose power also roared in their blood, while their heart yearned for the long-forgotten normality.
You risked a glance over at him, finding his head turned toward you, giving you that look that you felt deep in your bones. It was a quiet look, hidden emotion thick within that gaze. Unpeeling every layer you’d spent building for months and months.
And you felt more naked right there than you had anytime he’d tasted your body.
Burning alive from that look, leaving you bare and aching and breathless and wholly unhinged.
You couldn't help but stare back, brows furrowing in confusion and effort, a million thoughts swirling in the ocean of your mind. All of them revolved around Mark like he was the sole lighthouse erected there, guiding you home.
Guiding you back to him.
Him.
Your heart hurt. Everything hurt. Everything hummed when you were near him. Too much, it was all too much and not nearly enough.
Mark’s gaze faltered, as if recognizing your inner struggle as the same one within his own mind. The unabashed hunger and equal agony with every lingering look toward the other.
“Sav?”
Your ears perked upon hearing your name; the muffled roar in your ears silenced as your head whipped toward Zoe. The girl stared at you expectantly, brows raised in anticipation. Your mouth opened before closing, brain too cluttered to find speech.
“Erm…Uh, what?”
Zoe suppressed a giggle before waving you over to the holomap on the middle table.
“We’re formulating a battle plan based on all of our strengths.”
You stood on weak legs, biting back a hiss as you started for the table.
The meeting was short, as most of the team had already studied the briefing for all members. You found yourself lost in your mind once more, fighting the urge to unravel. Equally fighting the urge to run to the man behind you, still sitting near the window.
The feeling lingered throughout the meeting, so strong that you left early.
You found Nolan Grayson’s eyes follow you the entire way out.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* ｡ﾟ☆ :. ───
You were pacing. Had been for an hour now.
It was sometime past midnight in the current solar cycle, meaning you should’ve been well asleep.
But you weren’t.
And you couldn’t.
Because the burn between your thighs threatened to turn you into a living flame.
The tension had already caused you to snap two drawer handles and break a desk chair.
It needed an outlet. You needed an outlet.
And God, you knew exactly where you could find it.
A walk across the ship, right to Mark’s door.
No.
Not an option.
…
……
Well.
And suddenly you couldn’t stop your feet. Moving from your room.
From your hall.
Dazed in the elevator.
Until, at last, you stood before the blue-ish metal door, the hall light casting a silver sheen upon it like a spotlight.
Mark answered the door before your knuckles could touch the frame. For a moment, he simply stared at you, not entirely sure you were really there. Really here.
His hair was wet, hanging into his eyes a bit. A wrinkled white t-shirt looked to have been haphazardly thrown over his head, as well as a pair of gym shorts. And still, that heat flared within you, so debilitating you nearly fell over.
“Sav,” Mark said lowly, eyes widening as he scented you. His hands reached up to grab the door frame, bracing himself. Riding that line, begging to cross it, begging for just one taste—
“Savannah.”
Oh, fuck it.
“Look. I’m sure neither of us will be much help if we’re so pent up we’re one second away from exploding. We’re both adults, we’ve both been through shit, and we’re both so horny we can barely breathe.”
Mark gaped at you as you pushed past him into his room, eyes barely glancing over the space before you turned back to him. He was still holding onto the door, blinking like he was trying to rewire his own brain.
“What…” He began, chest heaving beneath that pristine white t-shirt. “What are you—“
“I’m offering sex,” You blurted, body nearly buzzing. It didn't help that you could feel the pressure in the room drop, Mark’s gaze turning into a branding iron, falling down your form to where that heady arousal originated. You took a shaky breath and continued. “No strings attached. We fuck, and we forget. And then we deal with this world-ending bullshit.”
Mark had grown tense, turning slowly to face you. God, his scent was everywhere in his quarters. It washed over you and threatened to drag you under, and you couldn’t fucking think straight—
“Sav—“
“Yes or no,” You blurted, eyes shut as you gathered yourself. “Unless you don’t want—“
You gasped as you were slammed against the far wall, Mark’s hand cradling the back of your head. And then his body was molded against yours, and you felt how very wrong that statement had been. He was panting, wrenching himself back with a ragged sound that had your toes curling.
“You have no idea how badly I want you,” He huffed, flattening his palms on either side of your head. You had to crane your neck to meet his eyes, a position so familiar you nearly crumpled. “But what you’ve gone through. Sav, I’d never want to exacerbate that or god forbid, hurt you—“
The world melted into muddled shades as you threw Mark across the room, following until you had him up against the door, smirkling as his eyes widened in surprise. And suddenly, the roles were reversed as simply as that.
“I’m strong now, Grayson. Ain’t gotta worry about breaking me now,” You smirked. Mark’s eyes darkened, jaw clenching as his lips quirked. Maybe he’d realized the likelihood of this moment happening again. Maybe he didn’t care, and he was simply just as outrageously horny as you were. Or maybe he was just ignoring the dark twisty feeling inside and focusing on the physical. The tangible. The now.
He debated for a moment before eventually raising his arms, locking them behind his head. Was he…? Yes. He was giving you complete control.
“Do your worst,” He challenged, eyes glittering.
You were on him before he could finish his sentence, body covering his as you captured his lips.
And it was everything.
Utter, aching familiarity held within his lips and all at once, new.
Colors and sensations exploded behind your eyelids, all-consuming and electrifying.
All you could feel and taste and smell was Mark.
Mark, mark, mark, mark—
“God, you taste the same and yet different and so fucking good,” He moaned into your mouth, grunting as his back slammed back into the door behind him. And it dented, the ship shuddering beneath the force of your strength. Not that either of you noticed, not as you all but leaped onto him.
Your legs hitched around his waist, locking behind his back. And your mouth was back on him, tongue and teeth and venom and lust and real. So very, deliciously real.
Real and intoxicating and addicting and so so fucking worth it. So good, so needed and necessary and—
And suddenly, wetness dripped into your mouth, salty on your tongue. Your eyes flew open, cheeks damp as you found tears leaking from Mark’s eyes. He was crying. And your heart seized.
“Mark—“
“No,” He hissed against your lips, hands tightening around his own wrists. Your stomach dropped as you leaned back. Mark growled, more in pain than in frustration. “No!”
He dipped you slightly, knocking you off balance just as his hand slipped to your back.
It happened so fast you could barely blink, but you were falling. Falling right onto Mark Grayson on the floor, thighs buckling and parting atop his lap. You gasped, palms slapping the floor beside his head as your nose brushed his.
“I’m fine,” He nearly spat out, jaw clenched. “The only way this ends with you not writhing on my cock till you scream is if you choose to leave.”
You blinked, throat tightening as heat flashed through you so wildly that you nearly fell off of him. A moment passed, you weighing your options as the seconds ticked by. Another, finding yourself lost in his thick, molten, chocolate gaze.
And then your hands were curling into the hem of his shorts, Mark’s eyes growing wide. A riiiip filled the air before you were tugging your own to the side and slotting yourself right above his—
It was too fast and hurried and just right and sloppy and hasty, and you were going to explode. You weren’t prepared, not nearly stretched enough to take him—especially not after nearly a year without sex—but here you were. Slipping the mushroom tip into your sopping slit—
“Fuck,” You choked, a ringing beginning in your ears.
“Holy—“ Mark moaned simultaneously, arching as his tip disappeared into you achingly slowly. Something groaned underneath your fingertips, cold metal warming under the sheer grip you possessed. And you sank and sank and sank onto every glorious forgotten inch Mark had to offer.
Your body warred, flashing between panic and pleasure. Faces morphed, and laughs echoed. But Mark? Your Mark. Your Mark kept his hands locked above his head, nails digging into his own skin as he kept his composure. As he let you ride him, simply watching.
And you were pulled from the confusion of your murky mind, thrust into the ecstasy of the present.
This was real.
This was everything, and it was real.
And your hands slipped from the floor and cupped his face. You poured everything into the kiss you gave him, all the longing and anger and hurt and apology, and how even through all of this, it would never ever be the same between the two of you.
Mark was whimpering, lips wrapped around a piqued nipple, all but molding you to him as your hips moved upon him. You’d tugged him up nearly half an hour ago, falling, sitting in his lap. Bouncing and twisting atop him, pleasure coursing through you.
Your hands curled into his dark locks, tugging. Mark hissed in pain, enough to make your eyes shoot open. You stumbled, realizing your mistake.
“Fuck, I’m… I’m sorry—“
“No,” He growled, eyes burning as you pulled back. “Do it again. Show me how strong you are, Sav.”
And you saw the desire, the freedom, churning in his gaze. You were no longer fragile. And you could finally spend that built-up tension on someone.
Your core blazed as his words settled, your nails scraping lightly against his scalp as your fingers curled once more. And tugged harshly, wrenching his head to the side as your lips met his neck. You let your teeth glide along the arch of his neck, nipping lightly as he groaned.
You grinned as he bucked up into your cunt, swallowing the ragged whimper that tried to escape your lips. You rolled your hips as your hands slid from his hair and flattened across his chest, shoving his back flat against the floor once again. And you rode him with wild abandon, rough and cruel, feeding that insatiable hunger you both had.
Again and again, you rose off of him, only to bring it back home, his cock nudging against your cervix delightfully. You threw your head back as that coil within you began to tighten, eyes shut in pure bliss.
“So, so, good,” You murmered. Mark hummed in agreement, body shaking with the effort of his restraint.
Closer and closer, your body is featherlight and brimming with energy. The room was vibrating, the air humming and sizzling.
You gasped, one hand grasping your breast as the other darted between your legs.
Mark groaned raggedly as he watched you play with yourself atop him, cock jerking within you. You cried out, so, so close to coming.
So was Mark, hips meeting your thrusts and face contorted in sweet pain.
“Gonna come for me, sweet girl? Gonna soak this cock?”
You were nodding, eyes shut in bliss, nearly sobbing as your back arched.
Mark was babbling, a string of curses mixed with your name.
“Give it to me,” he begged softly, gazing up at you like you were his savior.
And you exploded, burning as bright as a star as you fell into a million pieces.
Yes, yes, yes, this is what you needed.
Your nails dug into his back as you rode your orgasm out. Mark growled in pleasure, shooting up and breaking only then, wrapping his hands around your hips to spur him along.
He was mewling, hunched over with his face smothered in your breasts, chasing his release.
Until he stilled with a weak groan and spilled into you.
“I—I love you,” He sputtered brokenly.
You were off of him so fast you could barely blink before you were across the room. Your body had gone cold, any remnants of your orgasm gone sour.
The words doused you with ice, landing so deep in the growing chasm within you. But you felt them as they clanged through your chest and down into your stomach.
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
And you realized you were shaking, collapsed against the opposite wall as you stared at Mark.
He was panting, eyes wide in horror, pants in tatters around his waist, and hair disheveled from you. From you. You struggled to remind yourself. You had initiated it. It was your choice.
Your choice.
Unlike before…
"Tell me you love me, Savannah."
You froze. Your spine tingled as you processed his words. Your bottom lip trembled, snot leaking from your nose.
No. You couldn't—wouldn't do that. That was the one thing you held onto—the one thing that belonged to your Mark.
You shook your head feebly, fresh tears escaping your eyes.
Sinister snarled, twisting his grip on your thigh. You screeched as the skin tore further.
"Stop—"
"Say it," He ordered, eyes alight with anger. With a roar, he gripped you by the throat, hauling you up from the bed. "Say it, now, or I'll fucking pull it from your heart my fucking self!"
He threw you down, your limp body flopping against the mattress. You wept almost soundlessly, exhausted. Your chest ached as you blinked up, praying for forgiveness.
You wanted to fight. You wanted to deny him. But there was only so much a person could take. And you'd taken so. Fucking. Much.
With a shaky breath, you glanced at him. You knew he could taste the heat in your glare, the hatred there.
"I love you...Mark."
He made you repeat it as you came, clenching around the toy in your ass, his cock in your cunt, and his teeth in your neck. Marking you deep, etching his promise into your skin
Mine, mine, mine.
And you passed out in a puddle of your own blood, the maroon staining your skin.
You shook your head, returning to the present. The bitter memory faded, aching and stinging as it clawed its way back into your subconsciousness. You suppressed a shudder as you adjusted your body, the slick between your thighs cold and uncomfortable. His spend dripping from you, each drip echoing brutally in your sensitive ears.
You found Mark still watching you, face fractured with grief. But he said nothing as he slowly rose to his feet and adjusted his clothes. silently moving throughout the room—his room. Keeping his eyes locked on you, freezing when you flinched or cowered.
And then he left.
Minutes passed.
The silence grew.
And you couldn’t decide which would’ve been worse. If he’d instead chosen to stay.
You coaxed yourself to some semblance of comfort, digging a pair of shorts from his bag.
Ignoring the scent of him on the material. On you.
You recited the words your therapist taught you for moments like these.
You grounded yourself.
You kept talking, rambling on until you were perfectly numb. And then you stood.
“I thought about it once,” You whispered, adjusting your shirt. Speaking to no one but the metal walls and dull furniture. “I thought about sleeping with an intern. But I was too afraid I’d snap him in half… And… I knew I'd never be able to get over you… Any of you.”
You glanced downward, to your unfurling palm. To the permanent half-moon scars embedded there.
You sighed, letting your head hit the wall behind you as you shut your eyes.
And you did not move again for a long, long while.
wc: 2.7k // cw: +18, strip club, afab reader, smutty, suggestive, mutual pining, dom/sub undertones, power play, explicit descriptions of anatomy, lap dance, kinda dry humping, rex is down bad for reader
maddie's scribbles: either i can't find it or there's no rex/stripper reader fics. like... why??? that man is a beloved regular at every strip club in every major US city. and on a more serious note, this one shot is hugely inspired by @elainewonderswriting fantastic Dance Me Brave, where Rex takes Mark to a strip club. i beg you, please read it before you read this one, it's magnificent AND has two more parts which are just SO juicy.
The club was packed that night.
Thick, heavy air mingled with the flashing lights, glimmering in the rhythm of another sultry beat from your favourite Friday's playlist, music rushing through your veins like adrenaline. The velvet couch in the booth was soft and bouncy under your almost bare ass. It was the best part of the night—getting a moment to breathe, to soothe your unruly heart. Though it always proved difficult when the club's favourite came along.
"I see you've brought a friend today," you murmured right into his ear, not in the mood to scream over the music, manicured tips tracing a line down the redhead's muscly thigh. The fabric of his khakis was thin and smooth under your fingertip; the man always knew how to properly dress for a dance. And that wasn't the only reason why he was well known and adored amongst the dancers. "He seems like a sweet boy."
"Dude's been wound tighter than the pole on the stage," Rex grinned, cocking his head to the side, his dark, half-lidded gaze set on yours. The deep green hue of his irises was slowly taken over by his pupils growing wider, his eyes slowly wandering along the lines of your face, your curves hugged tight by the thin straps of your dance suit, your feet arched in the impossibly high platforms. "So I made him tag along, take the edge off."
"Am I the lucky one tonight?" Your voice betrayed you, the tremor barely, but still audible as you rested your palm on his shoulder, the warmth of his skin seeping through the material of his shirt. The garment was stretched in all the right places, accentuating his toned, broad chest, strong arms, veiny neck.
"Oh, no. I'm the lucky one here, sweetheart."
You couldn't help the giggle that slipped past your plush lips as you turned towards your friend with a smug grin. "He's mine tonight," you cooed to Cherry, who very poorly hid her jealousy, her jaw clenched as she forced a smile to you.
"I'm yours, huh?" Rex hushed, flicking his eyes to your mouth.
"Yeah," your perked breast brushed against his torso as you leaned in, "how 'bout I show you what it means?"
"Can't wait, Em."
Blood rushed to your face—you'd lie if you said you didn't like the nickname.
Your stage name just so happened to be Emerald, matching his leafy, green eyes. No other customer would be allowed to use a pet name with you; it's there to protect you. But with him, you felt safe. Yeah, the bouncer was there to keep the clientele in check, too. There was no need for that with Rex though. He tipped very well, knew the rules and respected them; plus, he also had the gift of thick like honey sweet-talking that made your legs feel like twigs, threatening to fall on him during the lap dance. Which, wouldn't be that bad if it wouldn't cost you your job.
For a short second, the music quieted down, the sound dull in your ears, and there was just the two of you, silently squinting at each other. It didn't last long, though, when the scratchy material of two $100 bill slipped past the string of your bottoms; the rough pad of his fingertips making the tiny hairs on your hip spike up. Best customer or not, you're still at work.
The pointy heel of your crystal clear shoes clicked against the vinyl floor as you rose up, stretching your hand towards the redhead. He followed soon, chest upright and proud, sharp smirk on his handsome face despite you towering over him in your platforms. There's nothing more delicious than a man who feels secure with his charm.
Rex barked out to his dark-haired friend that he'd be back in a ten—which, you hoped weren't true. He could book an all-night VIP room, and you forget all about the stage and scouting potential clients, hoping they didn't stink or wouldn't try to "save you".
You led him by hand towards the private room with measured, careful steps, adding a sweet flare to the sway of your hips. Your ass cheeks burned under his perusing eyes, his palm heavy and eager in yours. The thin, inconspicuous curtain tickled your arms and waist as you entered the room; the iridescent veil the only thing separating you from the noisy, busy main floor.
It started way back when, it had been maybe your second week and he already had been a well-loved regular; every girl hoping he'd show up on their shift. You'd heard all about him; so much in fact, that when he'd barely crossed the threshold of the club that night, you already knew it was him.
His bright, grassy eyes had found yours within seconds, as if pulled by an invisible thread. You had surfed through the crowd, praying you'd be the first to greet him, to snatch him for the night. Kitty was by his side first, but you kept on moving anyway, determined to finally meet the famous redhead.
"Haven't seen you before," Rex had grinned at you when you reached them, chatting and chuckling like old pals; his smile so sharp and cocky that all blood had rushed to your face with impossible speed.
The moment the redhead was inside, finally just the two of you with remnants of privacy, the atmosphere shifted. It always did; every time you gave him a lap dance that man had you heavily evaluating if you actually needed the job.
It only takes one word, one move, one gesture and his hands would be all over your toned, warm body. But you knew better than that; it was the best thing you could do to survive in this city.
You liked your job, too. It paid really well—especially with customers like Rex; provided you much needed stability despite the crazy working hours; and most important of all, it gave you freedom. No one was telling you when to come and who to serve, the only thing expected from you as a performer is that you stay on top of your game, otherwise it was an amazing creative outlet.
Dancing has always been your favourite language, the easiest way of communicating with the world and people around you. When you danced, nobody was asking you nosy questions, telling you how to live your life, expecting you to stay in the tight confines of societal norms. Your freedom was their drug, and both sides loved how intoxicating the exchange was.
"Sit," you ordered, not turning to face him. The velvet chair made no noise when it dipped under his weight, your only cue the sound of his shoes rubbing on the flooring. Even without that, you knew he'd listen. He always did.
Your eyes fluttered to a close and you let the music take you away, your body swaying to sides on instinct, exactly the way he liked. Loyal customers were not only a great source of cash; they opened up their hearts and souls to you even if they never said a word. Learning their deepest desires, dreams and wishes was your fuel; what gave you the rush of adrenaline, the confidence in yourself to deliver them the best show they ever witnessed.
"Come closer," Rex rasped in the way you knew so well; already hard for you before you even got a chance to untie your bra.
"Someone's impatient tonight," you purred, looking at him over your shoulder, your fingers tracing the sides of your waist until they reached the swell of your ass. For a moment, you played with the fat of your cheeks long enough to make his jaw go slack.
"Haven't seen you for so long." His voice was thick, low and needy. He was exactly where you wanted him, and only then it was time to face him. Your heels clicked in the rhythm of the song spilling from the speakers, every step taking you closer to your man of the night.
"And whose fault's that?" You cooed, pouting at Rex with brows furrowed over your pretty eyes all the while your hands landed on his shoulders, strong legs on both sides of his body, your hips almost making contact with his clothed cock.
His smirk twitched, scaring to fall down completely and he did everything in his power not to let loose, which would end up with himself and you kicked out and blacklisted from the club.
But he was no rookie. He only gulped and grabbed the armrests tighter, his knuckles going white before finally relaxing, forcing himself to calm his breathing.
The corners of your lips lifted in a sly smile when run for the hills by Tate McRae started playing from the speakers, and you knew you had him wrapped around your pinky with the way his eyes were glazed over.
"Been busy, mama." Rex tilted his head, his breath hot on your neck as you ground down on his insanely hard length twitching in his khakis.
"Mm, that so?" you murmured, swallowing down a moan when his tip pressed on your clit, your bottoms gliding easily with all your slick pooling on the material.
"But I thought of you every day," he groaned when your perky breast brushed against his aquiline nose. "And of those beauties."
"Yeah?" You leaned back to gaze at him, your chest moving away from his face much to his discontent. "You missed them?"
The hairs on his forearms rose up when both of your manicured fingers grabbed at the fat of your tits, squeezing them tight; imagining it was his rough, large hands kneading them instead. Gone was the green of his big, greedy eyes, following every touch and move of your palms playing with your breasts.
"Fuck—" Rex croaked, the smug grimace completely wiped from his face. He was utterly dishevelled, enamoured with the way your nimble fingers fondled with your alert nipples.
"Yes, Emerald. Of course I fucking missed your tits." He whimpered, ogling your chest shamelessly. "Now stop torturing me."
"Isn't that what you pay me for?" You chuckled, but grazed your hands up anyway, arching your back, equally flushed as him, heat thrumming in your veins as you took your sweet time untying the straps of your tiny bikini top—if you could even call it that.
The second your breasts spill out, hot and heavy and full, Rex sucked in a breath through clenched teeth, his hands flying up, stopping just inches away from your glistening skin.
"Oh God," Rex dropped his arms and whined, the sound strangled, coming deep from his chest.
"Just me," you mumbled, rocking your hips against him, all hard and leaking just for you.
"And that's me," Rex whispered, inching closer, bucking his hips up, shoving his cock against your swollen clit, eliciting one, sweet and quiet gasp from you.
"You're gon' get me fired one day," you grunted, only mad the sweet friction lasted so short, flicking your eyes all over his face, painfully avoiding his plush lips. They must feel so soft, and you couldn't help but let your eyelids flutter close, dreaming your fingertips grazing your ribs were his mouth; claiming, rough, and warm against your burning skin.
Breath stuck in your throat, eyes flew open wide when Rex swiped his thumb over your thigh. The touch was so gentle, it almost seemed accidental. But you hoped on everything you held dear, that it wasn't.
"And get you all to myself?" The redhead grinned, pushing himself up on his elbows until your noses touched, his lips shy away from yours. The smell of his musky sweat mixed with his fresh, sharp cologne filled your nostrils, dizzying you even more. "That doesn't sound so bad, does it?"
"Rex…" you sighed, fighting the growing urge to crash your mouth with his, pulling away, checking with the corner of your eye if Kevin noticed anything. "Not here, not now."
"When?" he pressed, though not closing the distance.
Even with his dick twitching painfully in his pants, perfectly fitting along the seam of your sopping pussy, he still remained respectful enough not to cause trouble. You'd have to change after this dance; your bottoms were ruined for the night, and you couldn't let other dancers catch you with wetness dripping down your legs.
"Not tonight," you huffed, your voice sad and whiny.
Rex was the best paying customer you've ever had, and you simply couldn't afford to lose that. But then again, you've led him by the nose for so long already. What if the next time he came, he wouldn't even grace you with one glance? Of course, he visited many dancers here, but you liked to think you were his favourite; that he came to the club for you.
"You drive me fuckin' crazy," Rex whispered, his fingers again tracing lines on your hip; this time the contact far from accidental, leaving hot trails in its wake.
"I know," you hushed back, your pert nipples brushing on the soft material of his shirt. Your hips stilled a long time ago, both of you lost in one another, playing scenarios in your head, keeping the fantasies alive in your minds.
"And I know you're soaking my pants." His smirk grew wider as his touch became braver, now grabbing at the fat of your ass. He thought was smart enough to choose the side not facing the veiled entrance, probably not realizing there are cameras in every private room.
"Emerald! You good?" Kevin shouted from behind the curtain and both of your heads snapped in the direction of the bouncer, adding distance between your aching bodies instinctively. "You've been there for ages!"
Shit. You were definitely getting a talk from the House Mum later.
"Y–yeah!" you yelled back, unable to hide the tremor in your voice. "We're leaving now."
"I have a place not far from here," Rex added almost silently, confidence dripping from his low, gravelly voice.
Fuck. You were in so much trouble.
You bit down on your lips, weighing down your options like it wasn't decided already.
"Three AM. Your place." You confirmed quietly, standing up, the thin heels thudding heavily on the floor. "Don't wait for me here though, no one can see us."
"Yes ma'am."
Your pulse quickened, as you failed to tie your top at the back of your neck, your fingers fumbling, the straps suddenly slippery. You cursed under your nose, the realization of your decision dawning on you.
"Lemme," Rex offered before adjusting his cock in his khakis, the movement doing very little to hide his arousal. You turned around, holding your breath, your heart banging against your ribs like it wanted to break free.
The rough pads of his fingers against the nape of your neck didn't help; it only made your knees go weaker, but you managed to hold your stance. Rex lingered, tying the knot and the bow carefully, slowly, purposefully playing with your hair in the meantime.
"Done," the redhead leaned over your shoulder, his face way closer than necessary or acceptable with the smuggest expression you've ever seen.
"Thanks."
"And that's for you," he mumbled, sliding another $100 behind the strap of your top. "Hope I didn't get you in much trouble."
You glanced at the bill, hoping this would be the last time that night he gave you money.
"I'm pretty sure you did," you quipped with a weak smile.
As you stepped outside, you became brutally aware of the sore forming on your foot, the acrylic rubbing painfully against your little toe. Rex nodded to Kevin, then brushed past you, giving one last once over and a god damn wink before disappearing in the crowd.
"He better had paid extra," Kevin grumbled, big, muscly arms crossed over his chest. Even in your platforms you had to look up to see the man. "That definitely was more than one dance."
"He did," you huffed, the ache in your foot completely forgotten as your eyes frantically scanned the sea of heads, desperate for one last glimpse of that unmistakable red hair. "In more ways than one."
But he was already gone, leaving you with nothing but a ruined pair of bottoms and a countdown to three AM.
"I know that deep down
You see my sacrifices
My love for you is priceless
You know I know you best"
- "Stalker" Stevie Howie
!NOT PROOF/BETA READ!
enjoy!
wc: 3.3k
You took a deep, steadying breath, soothing the nausea threatening to overtake you. Arms crossed over your chest, you let your head hang forward. Cecil sat behind you, in his desk chair, hands cradling his face. Finally, after a sobering minute, you glanced up at him from where you were leaning against the wall.
“This is no longer about me. My comfort isn’t paramount,” You whispered, body leaden as the words passed through your lips. “This is about saving the world.”
You nearly choked on the words, tears beginning to burn your eyes. You shook your head, swallowing the lump in your throat.
“This is so much bigger than me.”
Cecil sighed in defeat, suit creasing as he reclined back in his chair. When he met your gaze, it was also lined with silver.
“I’m…I’m so sorry, kid.”
You ignored it, pushing off the wall and beginning toward the door.
“Call him, Cecil. Arrange the meeting.”
Two Hours Earlier,
You hovered above the bustling New York metropolis, fighting every instinct to flee the two aliens before you. Your eyes wouldn’t peel away from the man on the left, the man that had ruined everything.
“Ooh!” The orange one cringed, raising his hands in surrender. “Oh, oh my, yeah, didn’t mean to spook ya!”
You remained in a fighting stance, daring a glance at the massive creature that looked like he belonged in the movie Spy Kids.
“Let’s start over!” He chirped, gesturing to himself. “I’m Allen, from the planet Unopa. And this is—“
He gestured to the Viltrumite beside him, but you’d found your bearings.
“I know who you are,” You hissed toward Nolan. “I know what you did. What I don’t know is why you’re back.”
The man seemed to wince at your tone, your words like shards cutting through his bulletproof skin.
“But you don’t know me, truly. Not the real me—“
“Oh, I think I know you very well, Nolan.” You spat, throwing your hood back and wrenching your mask off. Omni-Man blinked, eyes going wide in surprise as it clicked into place. You, yes, you.
“Savannah?”
You swallowed the urge to bristle, grinding your teeth and shutting your eyes as you quelled your anger.
“Savannah, is that really you?” He continued, obviously undeterred by your expression. “What… What happened? How long have you…? Does Mark know—“
“Get to the fucking point,” you interrupted, ignoring the way your chest stung at the mention of his son. “Why are you here?”
God, this man. This man who had broken his son and family. Who had broken this world. Who had seeded so much distrust among the human population that they lived in constant fear. The man who had knocked over the very first domino.
“Wow,” Allen murmured, glancing back and forth between you and Omni-Man. “So, I’m sensing some tension here.”
Your head snapped to Allen, nostrils flaring as your temper spiked. The alien held his hands up.
“Okay! Yeah, I get it. So, I’ll do the explaining then,” He muttered. “You’re Resonance, right?”
You glanced once more between them before nodding.
“Okay, good, so we’ve come in search of you. You have the ability to fight and destroy Viltrumites. And we kinda need that, seeing as we’re at war and everything.”
You blinked, eyes widening.
“I’m sorry,” you interrupted. “Did you say, war? Who the fuck is at war?”
Allen stared at you before turning to Nolan.
“Uh, that would be all of us.”
Your heart stuttered, stomach rolling as you fought the urge to shudder.
You took a shaky inhale of breath, ignoring the gathering group of shocked onlookers inside the Chrysler building.
“Are you telling me that the Viltrumites are coming here? To fight us?”
You didn’t care that your voice wavered. You didn’t care if you reeked of fear.
All you could think about were hundreds of Omni-Mans touching down and obliterating your world.
It was Nolan who answered you, voice low and commanding. And no less foreboding than the last time you’d heard him speak.
“No. But they will if we don’t defeat them first.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* ｡ﾟ☆ :. ───
What a ragtag team of fucking weirdos, you thought with a snort, glancing over the tablet you’d been given.
A traitor Viltrumite
Another traitor Viltrumite
The son of a turned Viltrumite
The other son of that turned Viltrumite.
A talking orange tank with one eye
Some alien with a powerful laser gun
A teenage kid in a tech suit of armor
A giant murder kitty
You
You glanced up and around at the ship you were in, trying your best not to marvel at the perfect view of planet Earth in front of you. You were in space, actual space.
It was beautiful and almost enough to distract you from what was about to happen down on the planet below.
And your eyes moved in their own, past Allen and the man beside him, to the muscled, sullen Nolan Grayson standing near the back.
“Is there somewhere we could speak?” Allen asked the balding man, before lumbering from the room.
And then it was just you and Mark’s father. And maybe it was a dumb idea, but you couldn’t help the anger that swarmed your body, that had been building all day—no, more like all fucking year. And it was all consuming, so much stronger than it used to be. It was lethal.
And maybe it was because the root of all your fucking issues was standing before you, pathetic and frowning like a wounded puppy, but you couldn’t help as the words poured from your mouth.
“What are your intentions after we ‘save the universe?’”
He blinked, mouth opening and closing before his brain comprehended your words.
“I’m sorry?”
You inhaled sharply through your nose as you began to cross the room to him.
“Do you expect that the world will forgive you? That all will be right again, and the human population will fall to your feet?”
“No, I—“
“Because I’m not gonna let that happen,” you growled, hands balling into fists to keep your rage in check. Omni-Man’s eyes were wide, hands up as to appear non-threatening.
Non-threatening your ass.
“Savannah, I just want to apologize, that’s all—“
“You know, Mark might be somewhat decent thanks to you, but he’s definitely all sorts of fucked up, and that is no doubt, 100000% your fault.”
“…I know—“
You were mere inches away from the man, neck craning to keep eye contact.
“And if you think I’m gonna let you stand there and shatter what he’s finally started to put back together, then you’re even more delusional than I thought. Listen here, Mr. Grayson. These powers I’ve been dealt might’ve been an accident, but I plan to use them at any cost to stop you, if necessary. I will not hesitate to protect the world you deemed worth less than the dirt underneath your feet. You make one wrong move against Mark or Oliver, and that’s it. No need to redeem yourself; they’ll be nothing left of you to redeem.”
A cough caused both you and Nolan to turn, where you found a small brunette standing in the doorway, eyeing you both warily.
And the silence grew, hanging awkward and heavy.
“Yeah, so I’m Zoe by the way.”
You sighed, taking a step back.
“Hi, Zoe. I’m Sav,” you said with a wry smile, before turning and stalking out of the room.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* ｡ﾟ☆ :. ───
A day had passed, and all the heroes from Earth had been summoned and agreed to fight the Viltrumites in order to save the universe. Only hours remained before the team boarded the Venture and set out on the trip.
Cecil Steadman, Director of the GDA, decided to call a meeting for those who called Earth home.
Mark Grayson wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t really like the GDA could do anything about it. Maybe Cecil just wanted to make sure everyone was on the same page.
Or maybe it was a way for all the Earth heroes to truly see each other before embarking on a life-altering mission together.
Camaraderie or some shit like that.
It was probably smart, given Mark barely knew the other heroes.
Both women, one a walking tech genius not much “older” than Oliver. And the other…? Mark didn’t really know much of anything about Resonance. He’d never seen much other than her eyes. He didn’t even know her real name.
Guess he’d know relatively soon, he thought with a quirk of his lips. He’d passed into DC a few seconds ago, the Pentagon looming ahead.
God, he was ready to get this shit over with—all of this shit.
And then maybe get back to normality, whatever that looked like.
Mark received more than a few wide-eyed glances as he navigated the halls, which wasn’t necessarily out of the ordinary, but there was a significant increase. It was almost like they knew something he didn’t.
Mark rolled his shoulders, shaking off the icky feeling as he approached the Situation Room. He only took his mask off as the sliding door hissed behind him. He found Cecil conversing quietly with Zoe, or TechJacket, before motioning her inside.
Slowly, the Director met Mark’s gaze, hands deep in his pockets. Mark stopped instantly, giving Cecil a wary look.
“What’s going on, Cecil?”
The Director sighed slowly.
“I need you to keep an open mind, Mark.”
Mark’s brows furrowed in confusion, angling his head as he took another step closer.
“…Okay?”
The door behind him slid open, soft footsteps slipping around him. A woman, Resonance maybe. Scratch that, definitely. She smelled like some human-Viltrumite swirl that wasn’t really truly like one or the other.
Mark turned as a female, hooded figure stalked by him, stopping only a few feet away from the Situation Room.
He knew her by her silence. He knew her by her telltale suit, black as night and fitted around her form. Muscles pushed against the material, maneuvering as she walked.
Resonance.
The woman with striking eyes. He knew he was crazy, though. He knew he’d tie anything familiar back to you at this point.
When his heart began to ache, Mark made himself focus back in. There was no time for pain and memory and—
“Sure you wanna do this?” Cecil asked, eyeing Resonance. Mark nearly groaned.
“Look, I don’t really know what’s going on here. If this is about concealing your identity, then show me who you are or don’t. It doesn’t really matter —“
“Mark.”
Time stilled, grinding to a rumbling halt in Mark’s ears. The very breath in his lungs vanished, chest aching as his mind began to race.
Had he heard that right?
No, no, it couldn’t be.
Mark turned, painfully slowly, toward the woman to his left.
Dread, fierce and suffocating, began to claw its way up his throat.
It wasn’t possible.
“If this is one of your fucked yo tricks, Cecil, I—“
“It’s not, Mark, I promise,” the Director assured.
Mark wasn’t sure if that made it better or worse.
Worse, definitely worse, he decided as the woman raised her hands up to remove her hood. Hair billowed freely, skin glistening in the low lighting as she pulled her mask free.
304.37 days.
7300 hours.
438,291 minutes.
And yet, there she was.
“You were dead,” Mark Grayson said, voice brittle and cold with shock.
The woman stared back at him, her gleaming eyes all too familiar. They were the same pair in his nightmares—the ones that chased him from his sleep. Those sad, hollow eyes stared back at him with a flash of regret before they hardened.
“A part of me, substantial and great, did die,” She said solemnly. The Director cleared his throat, gaining Mark’s attention. Right, he remembered, this wasn’t the reason he was here.
“This way, please, we've got work to do and a planet to save,” Cecil murmured, eyes narrowed in on Mark. The Viltrumite opened his mouth, anger, hurt, and confusion pulsing through him. Cecil knew? She knew?
“Don’t,” She interrupted sharply. “Not now. Not here.”
Later, she seemed to say with her eyes. And Mark could do nothing as she turned on her heels and strode into the conference room. And so Mark followed, mere steps behind the woman he’d buried and mourned 10 months ago.
Savannah Fawn.
His head was spinning. Jesus Christ, he was going to throw up all over the mahogany table before him. He couldn't stop staring at you.
You.
You.
You were alive.
God, but he’d buried you. He’d sobbed into your bones. How…?
Something dark and oily began to seep into his skin, deeper than anger and colder than shock. Betrayal.
And it was a bitter and sickly feeling because, deep down, he knew your reasons and could justify them.
But you? You were his. All his. And in losing you he’d lost himself.
His girl. His girl.
Something twisted inside of him.
His, his, his, his, his, his—
“Mark?”
He blinked, returning to reality to find his gaze still locked on you. You, who was meeting his stare with equal intensity. That look, battle-worn and scarred. Mark dove deeper into that gaze, searching and searching and… found nothing of you there.
He tried to smother the despair that rose within him, pushed it down with every other emotion surging to overtake him, and finally broke eye contact.
“What.”
Cecil winced at the sheer force of Mark’s tone, but did not balk as the half Viltrumite’s stare turned to him.
“I asked if you had a rough estimate of the duration of the mission.”
Mark had kept his face blank since he’d walked in the room.
“Two weeks there, two back. Don’t know how long it’ll take. I’d say six weeks total.”
The tension in the room was so thick you were certain you could choke on it if you allowed it. It was beyond fucking awkward. But you held Mark’s gaze. For reasons beyond your comprehension. You just felt like you owed it to yourself to not back down.
Not that you were scared of him. But more, of the wrath he was capable of. Of what you’d seen other versions of him do with that wrath.
You took a steadying breath as Mark’s face morphed into Sinister’s, the pupils swallowing his eyes whole and smirk far past cruel. And then to Emperor’s, face guarded and discerning and brutal, scheming and scheming and scheming. And then back to Mark’s
Your Mark.
A part of you ached.
He was still yours, in a way.
You shut your eyes, not letting the ache reach your throat. This was not the time. It would never be the time.
So, you pushed through the panic and the pain and kept yourself steady and tightly locked down.
Jesus Christ, you thought with a wince. Not only was there tension between you and Mark, but there was tension between Nolan and his sons, and you and Nolan, and—
The whole place was on edge, actually.
“Right,” Zoe murmured, eyeing the common area around warily. “I'm gonna go… anywhere else.”
“Oliver,” Omni Man began, but his son was already two steps behind the girl.
“Don't bother,” he hissed. Nolan sighed, rocking slightly from the ship's speed. He turned to say something to Mark, but found his son staring intently at you.
The stare you were trying so desperately to ignore.
Maybe you could sneak to your room—
“I'll,” Nolan began with a cough. “I'll give you two some space.”
Fuck.
You glanced at Nolan’s retreating form like it was your life, slowly disappearing. Shutting your eyes tightly, you took several steadying breaths.
Could you do this?
Your eyes went wide.
No, no, you weren't sure you could.
It seemed Mark didn't care whether or not you considered yourself ready.
He stood in the middle of the room, solemn and eyes a raging storm threatening to level a town. And you wanted to run for cover so so badly.
Your heart began to pound painfully in your chest, the roaring in your ears enough to knock you to your knees.
“How?”
His voice cut through you like glass, cold and hurt and broken. And, fuck, you couldn't do this.
You were moving before you realized it, spearing for the doors.
“Not now, please—“
He was on your heels, so close you could feel his breath on your neck.
“When, then?” He asked incredulously. “You can’t just drop all of this on me and then disappear again without explanation—”
You were shaking your head, arms wrapping around your torso like you could keep the storm building within.
“Soon, I just—“
Mark’s voice broke, a pained sound cleaving from the back of his throat. And suddenly, he was in front of you, blocking you from delving deeper into the ship.
“God, I'm begging you. You gotta give me something, Sav—“
You couldn't breathe, the lights flickering around you as if in time with your breathing. The ship seemed to groan under pressure as you were swallowed by Mark’s pleading gaze. Brown eyes shining with silver, begging you.
You stumbled backward, throat tightening.
“I—”
And then his hands were around your elbows, lip trembling as tears streamed down his face. And all you could feel were the hands of the men who had hurt you and touched you and taken from you.
“I saw you die—“
“Stop!” You gasped, back colliding with the wall so hard you heard the metal snap. Your vision had tunneled, heart roaring as you fought every urge to flee.
Mark, on the other hand, simply stared at you with wide eyes. Horrified, eyes glancing toward his hands as if he were a monster.
“Sav, oh my god, I didn't… Im so sorry—”
You gulped down oxygen, chest heaving as you willed yourself to stay rooted. And he babbled on, profusely apologizing as you counted breaths and went through the process of calming yourself.
“I’m fine,” you finally panted, one hand wrapped loosely around your neck. You didn’t look at him though, even as you repeated it. “I’m fine.”
Mark didn't follow you to your quarters after that. You couldn't help the dread that filled you, standing in the living room and glancing around like a lost kitten.
You were lost.
What the fuck were you doing here? Who the fuck were these creatures to demand you fight for a people that had never fought for you?
You stifled a sob, the back of your hand slapping against your mouth as you rocked backward. Your arm shot out, nails gripping the couch to stabilize you.
It was within your right to be bitter and angry and rage until you were purple in the face.
But pain wouldn't cancel out pain.
And if you lashed out, you became everything you'd feared you'd be.
Gritting your teeth, you forced yourself to straighten and stop toward the bedroom.
You were outside Mark’s door an hour later, hair still damp from the freezing cold shower you'd taken.
Mark grayson opened the door before your knuckles grazed the door panel. You began speaking before he could, eyes just barely grazing his expectant face.
“Look, this doesn’t have to be more difficult than it already is. You stay in your room, and I’ll stay in mine, and we’ll stay cordial in public spaces.”
Mark blinked, mouth opening before closing slowly. And you watched as the hope within his chocolate brown eyes began to wither and rot. You ignored the ache in your chest, swallowing the burn in your throat.
“And after this, we’ll forget each other exists and go on with our lives.”
You let the cold numbness seep through your body, leveling your voice and freezing the tears gathering in your eyes. Until you felt nothing. Until you were barren.
You left Mark standing, one hand still opening the door for you. He simply stared after you as you disappeared down the hall.
And you couldn't help but feel that something was truly decimated. Even after everything you both had gone through together.
Something had torn, splitting and shredding, being whisked away into the ever-growing void.
But at least it was over.
Easy.
Simple.
It was done.
And as you returned to your room, you couldn’t help but feel that was the furthest from the truth.
Characters: Arrogant!Mark Grayson/Invincible or Stripevincible/Variant!Mark Grayson x Married!Reader
Warnings: Narcissism, HOMEWRECKER!MARK, NO USE OF Y/N, SMUT, rough smut, Oral(f receiving), Dub-con, slight Dom/Sub dynamic, slight Dark!Mark, low-key stalker!mark, Dirty Talk, Dirty thoughts, barely proofread, Minors DNI.
Synopsis:
blurb, mark stops by your home for a good morning kiss ;)
Word Count: 2k
It was quiet in your home. Too quiet.
The alarm clock on the bedside table chimed “7:00,” the beep echoing through the vacant room.
The room itself was spacious. Comfortable. A couple of comfortable wealth lived here, as told by the four-poster mahogany bed nestled atop the plushiest rug Mark had ever seen.
But he wasn’t staring at the rug, or the expensive wood, or even the grand vanity behind him. He was staring at that mahogany bed, or more, the mess of sheets and blankets atop it.
He could smell you there, vaguely, tainting the silk thread. A male scent mostly overpowered it, however. Thick and heady and borderline overwhelming and every-fucking-where.
He’d fucked you in that bed. Mark knew that. Yes, he’d smelled it, but he’d also seen it.
Watched as your husband had rolled over and had coaxed you awake, only to shove your head into the pillows and take and take and take from your body.
10 minutes.
10 minutes of half-assed rutting against you, and he’d pulled out with a mangled cry to paint your back before staggering to the shower.
The bastard didn’t have the brains to make sure you'd orgasmed.
You hadn’t.
And that made Mark even angrier.
Fucking what belonged to him was one thing. Not doing it well enough for it even to matter? Unforgivable.
But you’d played the good little liar, moaning and writhing until he finally slumped off of you.
It was fascinating to compare the sounds you'd made with your husband to the raw, unfiltered, and downright guttural moans you'd given Mark. It made something within his chest preen.
He watched as you waited, quiet and still, until the loser returned. Freshly washed and styled, briefcase in hand. He’d dusted a quick kiss atop your head before leaving for work.
What a waste of testosterone.
Mark had almost left afterward, thinking you’d fallen back asleep, until fifteen minutes later, when you slipped from under the sheets. Padding on pretty feet, you slinked into the closet. Mark had floated just outside your window, listening rather than watching.
A few moments later, you reappeared, hand clasped tightly around a small object. You all but dashed into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door.
Mark’s lips had quirked at the sight. What devious things were you up to?
Mark's eyes had narrowed in on the darkened room, head cocking as he watched your shadow dart under the door. And then the shower had started, the pitter-patter of water droplets splashing off the tile making Mark question your motives.
Until, so quiet he had to strain to catch it, a small buzzing began.
Mark had to stop himself from bursting through the glass as he heard your gasp... As he heard you place the vibrator on your clit.
Jesus Christ.
His poor girl.
Your hand slapped over your mouth to cover your moans as you began to pleasure yourself.
As if you needed to hide. God, even the thought of you having to get yourself off in secret made his blood boil.
Piece of shit, sorry excuse for a husband—
All the blood in Mark’s body had rushed southward as he heard those muffled groans. A sense of twisted pride surged through him. It was almost as if you were staying faithful to Mark without even realizing it. Not coming for another man—not when you belonged solely to him.
Didn’t fucking matter whether you had that ring or not.
Mark crept in just as you reached your peak, not even your hand able to muffle your cries. Body slick against the shower tile, damp hair stuck to your skin as you bucked against the little device between your legs.
It wasn’t a good orgasm, Mark realized, when you finally stilled fifteen minutes later. You sounded frustrated afterward, chucking the toy into the sink and starting to shower.
Mark imagined it was to rid yourself of your husband's lingering touch.
What a shame, Mark had thought as he climbed into your room.
All that work and you were still so frustrated. Well, Mark could help with that.
He was sitting on the small couch across from the bed when you finally appeared, squinting in the dark as you navigated the room. Mark could’ve done this forever and die a happy man. Watch you sleep and live, and it all be a secret.
But he had a point to prove. And you deserved the pleasure you craved.
“Did you have fun?”
You whirled around, clutching the robe across your chest like it was a safety net. Your eyes widened, realization sinking in. Mark only smiled, gesturing to the bed.
“Oh my god—it’s you.”
Your voice was shaky. Meek. You were smart to fear him, even if you didn’t realize he had no intention of harming you.
Mark’s eyes twinkled as they passed over your bare skin.
“It’s me,” he purred, grin turning sinister. “So...Did you?”
You followed his pointed look to the bed, to the mess left there. And you swallowed, heart roaring in your ears.
How was he even here? How had he learned your address?
Invincible continued, reclining lazily on the sofa across from your bed, brows raised under the mask.
“I would think not, given I just heard you spend half an hour with your hand between those pretty legs.”
You couldn’t help the blush that covered your face and neck. Had he… heard? How long had he been here?
“I… I don’t. I wasn’t—“
“Wasn’t, what?” He cooed, mocking your tone. “Desperately trying to do what your husband couldn’t?”
You took a step back as if trying to physically avoid the truth.
“Or, more, what your husband was trying desperately to do what only I can.”
Your blood ran cold, skin prickling as the words settled deep within you. Jaw clenched, you slowly crossed your arms over your chest.
“You need to leave.” Your voice was no more than a whisper.
Invincible grinned, standing and taking a step closer to you, head cocked as if he were observing his prey.
“Is that what you want? You suddenly forget how, twenty-four hours ago, you were screaming my name?”
You shuddered as his voice caressed your spine, molten and husky.
God, but you knew he was beautiful, even if you’d never seen his face. He was beautiful and had made you feel like nothing you’d ever experienced before. And fuck, he was right. He was right, right, right.
He took another step and another, you reciprocating until the backs of your calves hit the bed.
And he was still stalking for you. He called out your name like it was the answer to every prayer he’d ever made, sweet and low and full of promise.
“Gonna need you to answer me, baby,” he murmured when he was less than a foot away. “Do you want me to leave?”
His gloved fingers had reached out, brushing against your hips and across your abdomen, sliding just barely beneath the folds of your robe. Your eyes fluttered shut, temptation making your brain go fuzzy.
God, you wish you were a stronger woman.
But you weren’t.
“No,” you answered finally, voice trembling. You could sense his grin as both hands grabbed your hips.
“Thought so,” he mused before shoving you down onto the bed.
You huffed as your back hit the mattress, robe falling open across your chest. Invincible just stared down at you, eyes honing in on your piqued breasts.
“You’re my altar,” he hummed, fingers grasping the tie of your robe and pulling. You shivered as it fell fully open, your naked body glistening. “And I plan to worship here thoroughly.”
You whimpered; how could you not? Invincible turned, grabbing something from a nearby table before returning to you.
You barely had time to blink before a tie was placed over your eyes and fastened behind your still damp hair.
“Wha—“
“Putting these to better use than whatever he wears them for.”
Not just any tie, then. Your husband's tie. Stomach knotting, you bit your lip as fabric rustled and hit the bed beside you.
And then he was kneeling, hands curved under your thighs.
You were shaking, overwhelmed with anticipation and nerves alike.
So when he jerked you to the edge of the bed, you couldn’t help the yelp that escaped.
Invincible snorted softly before spreading your legs embarrassingly wide. Your thighs burned, but you allowed him to maneuver you. Especially as he groaned, ragged and broken.
“So fuckin’ perfect.”
And then his mouth was upon you, hot and wet and intoxicating. You bucked against his face as his tongue split your folds, hissing as the pleasure that followed.
This was wrong, you thought, so so very wrong.
You arched your back as one of his hands squeezed your breast.
But, fuck, it felt so good.
You wished you could’ve seen him, back muscles flexing as he buried his head between your thighs. Truthfully, it spurred you on more having your sight taken away. Your other sensations had multiplied tenfold, resulting in you crying out with every maddening lick he delivered to your cunt.
His hands were iron tight around your thighs, holding you flush against his skin. You couldn't have moved even if you’d wanted to, forced to endure the pleasure he wrecked from you.
All thoughts of life beyond this moment left, all people and places and things. Gone. It was only you and Invincible.
The man groaned as his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking and tugging enough that dots danced behind your eyelids. You were already so sensitive, having orgasmed only a short time ago. Your pussy throbbed and ached as he continued, not caring when you jerked from the overstimulation. It was too good—too good to have him stop.
Tears dampened the tie as they escaped your eyes, Invincible’s chuckle vibrating your bones as he noticed.
“Is my girl sensitive?” He asked, pulling back with a wet pop. He let his middle finger continue to pleasure your bundle of nerves. “Should I stop?”
“No!” You blurted instantly, shaking your head. “Please don’t.”
Invincible shushed you gently, his other hand rubbing circles around your hipbone. You felt his breath ghost across the top of your pelvis. Featherlight kisses danced atop your skin.
“Pitiful,” He growled. “A man is supposed to provide for his woman. Not leave her wanting.”
You whimpered as he dove back in, spreading your lips with his hands and—
“Fuck!” You sobbed as he flicked his tongue around that swollen bud, sucking and scraping until you were writhing like an animal.
“Please, please, please—“
“Mhmmm,” He hummed, as if he had no idea what you wanted. “Please, what, pretty girl?”
You huffed in frustration, hands tangling in thick soft locks.
“Please let me come.”
“Already?” Invincible tutted, nipping at your inner thigh. “Hmmm, do you think you deserve to come?”
“Yes!”
A part of you wanted to scream. This man breaks into your house and demands you beg him?
But a bigger part of you craved that submission he offered. A part of you wanted to be molded by him. Loved and owned and coveted and--
“Do you?” He questioned. “Do you deserve to come when you let that bastard put his hands all over what belongs to me?”
Your heart stuttered, belly dropping as you remembered.
“I… He’s my husband,” you countered warily. Invincible’s grip on your body seemed to tighten.
“Right,” He grunted. “Tell me, baby, who has their tongue buried in your cunt?”
You whined as he sped up his efforts, a string of curses falling from your lips. You were on fire, a living flame that danced and burned for him. Only him.
Another minute passed, and you’d soaked the sheets and his hand, so close to coming you could taste it.
“Don’t you ever fuck him again,” He demanded. “Don’t ever let him touch you again. You’re mine, you understand?”
You nodded quickly, tears streaming down your face. And Invincible took a second, most likely to determine whether you were lying.
Finally, he lowered his head, fingers moving so fast he could barely see them. He gave a long, slow, sloppy kiss to your clit and then ordered,
“Come.”
You awoke a few hours later, sore and satiated, in an empty house. Sitting up, wrapping your arms around your torso, you glanced over to the clock and cursed.
You had an hour before your husband got home. You dashed to the bathroom, quickly rinsing yourself of any leftover sweat and stench before you began tidying the room.
And you couldn’t have proven it, but you were sure someone was watching. And waiting.
God, you hoped you weren’t going to hell.
You tried not to wince as you slid your rings back on.
