Having trapped D'Spayre within myself, I became that emotion; fear, despair. Put simply, I was inside the heads of everyone, the hearts of everyone, and every last moment in which one thought, "Oh my god, I'm going to die." Where fear was greatest. When I would get the most excited; when I was in your bedroom, breathing down your neck.
I had always been a pretty nasty person to begin with; the Butcher's Voice had constantly been screaming at me to do the most inhuman of inhuman things. However, in doing so to keep me alive, I had given away the last of my humanity and in retrospect, I should probably have just let D'Spayre take control. After all, he was a demon. I was now a demon with a conscience, and I was tortured by the very emotions which made me frightening in the first place.
Going to a top secret briefing with Tony Stark after eating a demon was not exactly smart. Sitting in the waiting area before the head of SHIELD felt like being in an oven; his every look and glower was turning up the heat a little more and more. He was a very smart man too; I could practically see the little wheels turning in his brain as he listened, dissecting what I said down to the involuntary twitch of the eyebrow.
What was I to say to that? "Hey, Tony, I just went out and spent a whole load of money on a soul eater and now have a ticket to see the buffet of your deepest, darkest fears?" That sounded like a terrible pitch. I remained calm and cool, with demons whispering at my ears.
Stark stared at me with burning rage. "I'll be honest with you, Marcus," said Stark as his face remained a mask of stone. "I don't trust you; not after what has happened with D'Spayre."
My heart did a double backflip. "Yes, Mr. Stark, I understand," I said, trying to sound as casual as a salad with a bucket of grenades added to the bowl. "But I'm still on the good side."
"Good," Stark said, leaning back, "I'd like to believe that you are, but we cannot be complacent." Stark placed his hand upon his desk, a small thunder crack of a knock that echoed in the silence. "We will be watching you, Marcus. Just to be on the safe side."
A bead of sweat trickled down my cheek. "Fair enough. Who is going to be the nurse?"
"A friend of mine, Jennifer Walters. She-Hulk."
I blinked. "Are you serious?"
"She's lethal, balanced, and can handle, if I do say so myself, 'colorful' personalities."
I was torn. I could woo her and turn this into some sort of cheesy reality show. On the other hand, if I made a bad move, she may just toss me around like some kind of rag doll. Hulks in the Marvel Universe were essentially unbeatable, no amount of upgrades outside of Marvel or DC would ever make me catch up to them. D'Spayre was one such upgrade but he was some random demon at the end of the day powered by the cosmic cube. Tony caught my eye, stepping up beside me. "Not forever. Just until we know for sure you aren't turning into an actual demon."
"Probation, then?"
"Partnership," he said firmly. "The Fantastic Four have vouched for you. If it wasn't for their testimony, you'd be in a dimensional cell."
"Fine," I growled through clenched teeth. "I'll play nice with She-Hulk."
A smile crossed Tony's face. He pulled his arm from around me and extended it in a greeting. "Good. That settles it. Let's meet your new partner."
The heavy door slammed shut behind us with the loud punctuation mark that was essentially saying, 'Get ready, you're sinking deep now.' Every SHIELD agent who passed on the hallway shot me a wide-eyed 'Why isn't he handcuffed?' expression. Really clever guys.
Tony dragged me straight into the training room. I could already hear the thuds of fists against heavy bags echoing out through the metal door. "Jen's in there," Tony shouted to me as we approached the entrance. "She's your support."
The doors flew open, and there she was. She-Hulk was where the heavy bags should have been. Her massive green muscles were glistening with sweat and charged with electric energy from the static. She looked at me with her eyes that seemed to glow with a fierce fire, calculating her next move.
"Conquest," she said, sounding like a honey trap, "welcome to your new TV show. I'm the host."
She said all that with a layer of heavy sarcasm. I had no doubt that this was not the first time Jen had hosted a program like this.
Tony was practically running for the door. "You two, don't blow the whole place up." Before the warning was even out of his mouth, he had bolted.
A long silence hung between us. She-Hulk cracked her fingers. "So..." she said. "Now what?"
I tried to keep my voice light, as if I weren't the only non-super-powered human in a room full of superheroes. "I guess we do some introductions. Maybe talk about life, goals, our favorite ways to shatter dreams."
She cracked a smile. "Why don't you tell me your real name, then?"
"Conquest. That's what I am. It's all I've ever been." I shrugged. "It's like asking a shark what his favorite color is. It's just not really a thing."
She seemed skeptical. "Okay," she said slowly. "Okay, Marcus. This is how this is going to go: For a month or two, you're mine. Every step, every breath, under my eye."
"Just call me Conquest." No smile. "I'm just me."
"And just to ensure the safety of everyone else involved, including yourself, you will live with me on the Helicarrier for as long as you need to."
I swallowed my pride. "On the Helicarrier?" I asked. The thought of being stuck inside of a flying metal container surrounded by a giant green superhero was not the most comforting prospect I had ever faced. "What about personal freedom?"
"Put on hold for the moment," she said. "When I am not able to keep an eye on you, another S.H.I.E.L.D. agent will take my place to prevent you from destroying the planet. Buddy system. Less fun. Less risk of world destruction."
"So, I'm on a leash." I asked.
"For your benefit, yes," She-Hulk replied. "We will set up a comfortable suite for you. It will be restricted to within the Helicarrier itself."
"Restricted?" I asked.
"Meaning," she explained, "we prevent the world from exploding. But we also give you enough comfort that you don't feel like your entire existence has gone to shit."
I let out a sigh. "So, when I'm not saving the world or protecting humanity from the ravages of my internal demon..."
"We can spar. Do some paperwork. Watch some Netflix. I love a good romantic comedy."
***
Being a "bringer of fear and despair" wasn't exactly my career goal after I ingested D'Spayre, but here I was in She-Hulk's house watching a cheesy, cliché rom-com like it was the final season of "Friends."
"What do you think?" Jen asked, still glued to the TV, eating popcorn as though she was loading up on carbohydrates before a marathon.
The plot was so obvious, the characters so predictable, and I didn't know what my eyes should do. Another couple whose only goal was to hate each other until the "love conquers all" kiss in the rain. The plot was thinner than the waistline of a beauty queen. I'd watch it another 10 or 12 times and still have enough time for another drink or two if I was going to keep my head on my shoulders, I suppose.
"It's… educational," I muttered between gritted teeth.
Her smile told me she didn't believe me. She didn't look away from the screen. "It's all right," she said. "I know it's not your kind of movie."
She had no idea what I meant. With D'Spayre's Butcher's Voice, it turned out I had full telepathic capability: the ability to read other people's minds, not merely sense an overheard conversation or read a passing thought. And I caught Jen's. In fact, it was impossible not to. She wanted me. It was there, underneath the discipline and duty, but she was still trying to hide the fact that she was eager to leap into my lap. The Butcher's Voice growled at the aroma of repressed desire.
"Yeah, Jen," I said, calling her by her first name like I might have been brushing my leg against hers, "But we could probably watch something else more exciting."
Her eyes widened, wondering what I was going to say.
"I'm more like the explosions and car chases guy," I whispered, my nose close enough that I could smell her perfume.
It was a green blush, but a blush nonetheless, as Jen almost dropped her popcorn from her hand that was trembling. "A really good action scene? Yes. I like that."
My heart was in my throat. I was on the brink of either kissing her or leveling the entire block. She was right here, just waiting for the right thing to make her take that first step; she'd be looking at me, then my lips, and the next thing she knew I'd be leaning forward. I moved my hand and the couch creaked.
"You are not so bad for a babysitter, you know that?" I murmured.
Jen looked at me, waiting for me to say something. "Marcus," she said, in that husky and sexy voice of hers, "this is a bad idea."
Her body was telling a different story. She moved closer, and took a deep breath. My fingertips moved the hair that fell over her face.
"Why is that? We are adults," I said. "We are allowed to have fun."
I knew she trusted me, and she was also attracted to me, too. I took the initiative and kissed her lips. Instead of kissing me back, Jen grabbed my shirt and pulled me in. The Butcher's Voice grumbled, though I tuned out the voice that time. It was just me and Jen and I felt good and right, like we belonged together despite the fact she was a giant green woman that could flatten a tank but who felt like she was made of silk under my hands.
I kissed her harder and she tasted like mint and wildflowers. She gasped, her face buried in the pillow. "Marcus, we can't be doing this."
The movie kept droning on, but she was making a better soundtrack.
Each moan, each shudder pulled me in closer and I finally snapped, clenching up, sucking in my breath and holding on as she broke, her body clenching, breath caught, riding that wave until even the Butcher's Voice faded into silence. When she collapsed against me, The Butcher's Voice came back on again and whispered how much farther I could go with her. And I was listening. She wasn't wearing any pants, either. She glanced down at what I was sporting and her face was a look I'll never forget, like, "holy fucking shit" and "come over here now." She didn't back off, she didn't tell me to stop.
She wrapped her hand around me, squeezing hard enough to remind me what I was dealing with, soft enough to give me goosebumps.
"Take your time," I murmured, running my thumb across her cheek. Her face was as soft as it could possibly get for someone built like an iron maiden. She nodded again and everything else just sort of disappeared from existence.
No TV, no noises, nothing but the heat humming up between our bodies. Jen kept looking at me, waiting, I assumed, for some sort of sign.
I nodded at her and she immediately moved, sliding to the floor, her knees planted right in front of me as she panted slightly. Those big green hands curled around me and stroked me as I was something expensive and precious that she'd never touch again but that wasn't so fragile that it couldn't be used. Her face hovered right in front of me, her breath hot against my bare skin.
The Butcher's Voice started muttering in my head about dominance and power and I wasn't thinking about any of that, okay, maybe a little bit. Then her mouth was there. My brain went into shutdown. She took me in, slow, like I needed time to adjust.
Her tongue traced across every inch of me like she knew exactly what she was doing.
I let out a grunt, tensing up as I felt what she was doing to me. She wasn't going down on me, she was eating me alive.
Her hands tightened their grip and she quickened her pace, looking right at me like she dared me to do what I would do. I wrapped my hand in her hair, pushing her deeper against me. My other hand found its way around her throat, tightening ever so slightly.
She gagged once, didn't pull back, just pushed further. The Butcher's Voice was screaming, cheering. She took me like she was born to do it, like it was something that was just right, like she wasn't even possible. I stopped holding back, pushing in as far as I could. Her hands gripped onto my thighs like she needed to steady herself.
Eyes watering, she kept looking at me. I pushed into her again, as deep as I possibly could, taking it as far as it would go. The pressure, the tightness, the way her throat clamped down on me. It was too much. She was going to kill me.
The Butcher's Voice roared, telling me to finish it, to mark her, to make her mine.
And I did. I felt it building, pushing out from me. And then I finished, spilling deep in her throat. She didn't blink. She didn't back off.
She swallowed me down with a few slow gulps like she knew that she had every right to. I pulled away and she gasped for breath. I realized then that she wasn't even going to pull back from what we had just done. I'd gone way, way too far. I pulled her off the ground and I could tell that I had fire to burn.
The Voice buzzed in my head, telling me she could handle it, that she wanted to see me, that she wanted to know the real me. I growled as I pushed her across the couch, one hand pinning her down, the other grabbing a fist full of her unruly hair. Her leo was pushed up enough for me to see what was under it, all of it.
There would be no more teasing and patience, just force. I slammed it into her and she bellowed, more of a groan than a scream. We made a lot of noise, hitting back and forth against each other. Grunts, gasps, smacks. "Is this waht you want, Jen?" I snarled out, pushing into her every time I said a word.
"A monster like me?" She looked me right in the eyes. "Yes," she groaned.
"I want more." I slapped her ass, hard enough to echo. She bounced, shivering up the rest of her body. Every strike was a warning, a promise of how far I'd go if I let go completely. Her legs pushed against mine, taking me every time.
She felt as tight as a vice. The Butcher's Voice was whispering all the wrong things to me, how it wanted me to use her, to let her be in my hands, and I give it to her.
Every single inch.
"Jen," I groaned, my hand rubbing her belly as the air grew heavy and hot in the room.
Her moans became more desperate, and her muscles clenched and tightened, before, Sacre bleu, She-Hulk screamed as she climaxed. I was there to feel it all through my penis, she pulsing and convulsing as her orgasm rippled through her body like she was crowning me her king. She trembled during it and looked into my eyes the entire time, challenging me to do something more. After that, I paused, then pulled away. I spat on my shaft, marking and claiming it for myself, and shoved back inside Jen.
This time, the way she grabbed at my body was a feral blend of rage and lust that could bring a whole city to a scorching inferno.
I hit that ass of hers once more. Her butt was now flushed and glowing from my palm, surrounded by the aura of green light. "You're mine now, Jen," I murmured, my mouth pressed tight against the shell of her ear, and she shivered.
"Mine to take, mine to possess and control and protect, and if anyone tries to take you from me, I'll tear them apart with my bare hands. Doesn't matter who." The Voice boomed, spewing out obscenities that were so filthy I was ready to tear Jen out of the air like a star from the sky.
I twisted one of her hard nipples, making her cry out in a way that sounded more like she was in pain, but was also clearly pleasureful. She was so tight around me as she held onto it, as if her entire life depended on it, and if that didn't make me untouchable here on the Helicarrier, nothing would. The whole thing was getting a bit much.
I was lost in Jen, making love to her as if the rest of the world were about to come to an end. Her moans were bouncing from the metallic walls of the room, and she and I were breathing in nothing but heat, hunger and lust. She gave in to it all, each brutal thrust, and her body was like a taut wire ready to snap, like it was about to shatter to bits. When it finally did, her cries rang out and her whole back arched as though she were being pulled apart and put back together at the same time.
I did, too, roaring into her ear as I erupted inside her womb, as if in a primal animal call and a claiming in the only way I knew how.
She shook in my arms as we came to our climaxes in unison, both of us feral creatures and beasts, two things of a nature, living in the same fire. We ended up on the couch, lying next to each other, breathing hard and heavy, like we'd run a marathon.
"Jen?" I said. I looked down at her, and she gazed up at me with her wide green eyes. They were the same eyes I saw in my mind's eye when I first encountered her as Conquest, and she looked at me not with joy, surprise, happiness or anything I could easily name.
Fear, maybe, fear for her job, for whatever this was. She gripped onto me, her hand pressing into my chest, and there was zero regret or hesitation in her actions, as she molded her body to mine. "That was…" Jen said. "Yes, it was," I added after my lips touched hers one final time and I began to catch my breath, as well as wipe the perspiration from her forehead. It was all that could be said, but the voice of the Butcher in my ear was now reduced to a mumbled whisper, and its thirst for me to do something to Jen was nearly gone.
I felt something in me change. I had changed from Conquest, as I truly had someone this time. She is She-Hulk. The woman who could throw a compact car without breaking a sweat. The she who I held in my arms, shaking in my arms not because I'd forced it, but because she wanted it.