MINE- Mark Grayson x Super!Reader P2

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by InfluenzaLake

by InfluenzaLake

Mark Grayson x reader inspired by Make You Mine by Madison Beer and the associated Jennifer's Body influences

syn: reader is super, she has the succubus demon's blessing and their eyes set on the prize. "Invincible" they call him, the "most powerful" hero on Earth they say, our "last hope" they cry. Is he really all that? She is about to find out. Her handsome lap dog, Earth's mightiest hero under her heel. Sounds too good to be true. Sounds like her next best thing.

Takes place during season 1 show from Prime Video

same deal TW: suggestive, I will say 18+ only to be safe so MINORS GO AWAY, mentions of violence kidnapping and assault and creepy CREEPY behavior.

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She licks the tips of her fingers and runs it along her eyebrows and the underside of her eyelashes. She rubs her hands together and paws at her face and neck. She pulls her shirt a little bit lower. She pulls her bottoms a little bit higher. She changes. Voice deeper, eyes lighter, skin brighter. She excuses herself to the bathroom. (that fool of a teacher was her pet long ago) She passes by her real target and runs her infected fingers along his arm. The rest of the class stares in longing or confusion. His eyes flutter and he recoils. He doesn't know exactly what just happened, but that's okay. He will soon enough. Then he will know nothing at all. Nothing but her.

"Did she just do that?"

"I wish that were me"

"Did she even ask?"

The only correct answer to the last question is No. Never have, never will. Nothing ever happens by asking. You have to take what you want. How do they think the demon found her in the first place? She was taken. Taken and consumed for the gain of another. Now she returns the favor.

In the bathroom she gets ready. The finale is near and every minute is worth its weight in gold. She looks into the mirror, takes a deep breath, and what she sees next sends shivers. A rush. Her chest blossoms with a deep purple wound that reaches up into her airways. Her muscles contort and flex. The pain is the only negative in this moment right now. When it is complete, she stalks out and finds her post. The bell rings and the school floods with bodies. The alarm is sounding and the prey walks into the open like mindless cattle. Another chuckle reverbs into her hollow thorax in three different octaves. She tests out a note or two in the hallways, seeing how far her reach goes. Students stop in the middle of the After School Herd and lose all feeling. Students drop their belongings and run into each other or standing objects. It's all or nothing now.

He should be coming any minute now. Especially that last push. His mind should be unconsciously seeking her out physically now. Hungry and impatient. His mind should have had his thoughts revolve around her mentally for months now. Random and unexpected. All she has to do is connect and complete.

Her song gets louder. His body is not his own. He can feel his heart beating faster booming in his sensitive ears. His arms and legs twitch in conjunction in an awkward motion moving him forward. The room gets fuzzier, darker, smaller. The walls are closing in on him. He swears he can hear a odd voice somewhere outside. But he's inside? There is a figure that appears in front of him, but it doesn't have the right form. It doesn't satisfy the dream. This figure has a voice of its own but there is no sweet honey song that he's looking for. It says... soft hum leading to a lift in the middle and the mouth shapes a specific form to pronounce the sharp ending.

"Mark!!"

"MARK!"

Until that odd voice becomes silent as well.

"Maarrk"

And it clicks. His senses hyperfocus on that. The word. The noise. The source. And anything he has to do to make it happen again.

"Maaark"

And he found it. He finally found it. He stand before it. All he would ever need in his life. This glowing morphling. Unresistable, relentless, and his body relaxes. She holds him, breasts pressed tenderly against his newly carven musculature. The song continues, tune bouncing off the walls and directly into his membranes. Their eyes lock, a constant wave of colors encircling a deep pit of endless darkness. And he feels himself fall. He doesn't even know who he is anymore. Just that this pushing and pulling is over. Any stress flakes and peels off his body.

And he's gone.

Blue meets yellow-green-purple-white. Good meets evil so on and so forth. Weak meets strong. All cliches will be mentioned in the ending sequences. This is one page in an entire novel of broken bodies minds and hearts. One meal of many. All according to plan. Just as tasty. Just as easy. Goodnight Everybody.