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mariasont · 17 days ago

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hi!!!!

I'm soooo in love your work. bimbo!assistantreader wil always have a special place in my heart!!!

Now i have this of idea that i think can work for either aaron or spencer, but basically bau!reader who kind of always wears the same type of outfit in the field that's always really modest. Buttttt when they kind of like "know" it's just going to be a paperwork day she likes to were skirts... short skirts and Aaron/Spencer are just feral for them...

Can either be fluff of smut... I trust you indefinitely xxx

Short Skirt, Long Day - A.H

a/n: hi hi hi hiiiiiii!!! ugh thank u sm i kinda took this an interesting route so let me know what you think!!!! im also heavily thinking about writing a smutty pt 2 for this but id love to hear everyone’s opinions

masterlist

pairings: perv!aaronhotchner x bau!reader

warnings: 18+ MDNI, suggestive content, aaron being a straight PERV!!! (im into idk man), aaron imagining scenarios he didn’t shouldn’t at work, idk this is quite different from my usual postings but i kinda fuck with it

wc: 1.4k

Aaron Hotchner loved paperwork day.

Days like these meant the frenetic energy of ringing phones and rapid footsteps is replaced by the soft drone of air conditioning and the occasional rustle of files being shifted. It’s the kind of morning he appreciated—time to breathe, to recalibrate without the air of an active case breathing down his neck.

But that's not why his pulse is thrumming more than steadily beneath his skin.

Hotch glances at the clock on his desk. It's early—too early for most of the team to be here yet, save for a couple agents whose faces barely register in his peripheral vision. His focus is elsewhere, fixed on a singular thought. Or, rather, on a singular person.

You.

Hotch leans back in his chair, exhaling slowly as a shameful type of heat rises to his face. It's a little pathetic, he thinks, how predictable he's become—it's not the work that makes these mornings bearable anymore. It's the anticipation.

The knowledge that, any minute now, the elevator doors will part, and you'll step out, wearing something that will completely dismantle his carefully constructed composure.

Hotch had noticed a pattern (of course he did, that was his instinct honed to a razor's edge). In the field, your outfits are a study in practicality: slacks, fitted jackets, muted tones--professional to a T. Nothing flashy, nothing that would draw undue attention.

But in the office, when the cases are shelved, and the team is left to wade through stacks of paperwork... it's different.

And it drives him insane.

The image takes root before he can stop it: the curve of your thighs, tantalizingly framed by a skirt that seemed designed to test his limits. The way the fabric molds to you when you move, clinging in places that his eyes are all too quick to follow.

Hotch exhales sharply, clearing his throat as if that could somehow clear his mind. It's unprofessional--he knows this, knows better than to let his thoughts stray so far from where they belong but yet…

The ding of the elevator pulls his attention like a magnet, and there you are. His grip on the pen tightens instinctively, the knuckles blanching as his gaze locks on you.

You're wearing that skirt today--black, fitted, and infuriatingly short, hugging your hips in a way that leaves nothing to the imagination.

He tells himself to look away, and for a second, he manages it--his eyes dropping back to his desk, his breath coming out slow and measured. But that reprieve is fleeting. His gaze flicks back before he can stop it, drawn helplessly to the curve of your waist as you laugh at something one of the other agents say.

You're too good. Too sweet. Too damn oblivious to realize what you're doing to him.

And he knows it's wrong—knows he's toeing a line he has no business approaching. But the way his body reacts to you, the pull you have on him, is beyond reason. It's instinctual, raw, and completely out of his control.

He calls out your name. "Could you come in here for a moment?"

You turn, blinking at him with wide, curious eyes. "Yes, sir?"

"I need you to grab something for me," he replies, his voice level, though every syllable felt like a tightly coiled spring. He motions towards the cabinet near the corner of the room. "The Marcus file. Bottom shelf."

He was a terrible terrible man.

Without hesitation, you step toward the cabinet, crouching slightly as you begin to sift through the lower shelf. The moment your body lowers, his eyes start trailing down where the hem of your skirt lifts, just barely revealing the soft curve of where your thighs meet your ass. Then, as you bend further, shifting your weight slightly to reach deeper on the shelf, the fabric stretches taut, clinging to your ass in a way that sends a jolt straight through him.

Hotch's throat feels tight, his breathing shallow as he drinks in the sight before him. You're so close, just feet away, and the angle offers him an unobstructed view. The shape of you, the smooth expanse of skin that's always just out of reach in the field, is right there--so achingly close he feels like his chest might explode.

He knows if you dipped any further, your panties would be on display and he couldn’t help but wonder what color you had on.

You’ve always had a meticulous attention to detail, choices leaning towards deliberate but understated at the same time. In the field, you favored muted tones—greys, blacks, navies. But here in the relative safety of the office you allow a little more personality, more femininity.

His mind turns to your preferences—pink, maybe.

Hotch swallows hard, pulse roaring in his ears. The thought gnaws at him, insistent and unrelenting—he needs to know.

“Careful,” he says, feigning concern. “You might need to check further back on the shelf. Sometimes the files get pushed out of sight.”

You glance over your shoulder at him and he swears he could combust. “Further back?”

He nods, leaning back in his chair to appear casual, though his grip on the armrests were anything but. “Yes.”

You turn back to the cabinet, shifting your weight again as you crouch lower, leaning further to search the back of the shelf. The motion sends the bottom of your skirt riding higher, and for a brief, heart stopping moment, the lace of your panties is on full display.

It was a pink barely there strip of fabric.

His mind betrays him, conjuring images he knows he shouldn't entertain. He imagines his hands on you, running over the curve of his hips, gripping your thighs, sliding that damn skirt higher until there's nothing left to hide. The thought of you like this, pliant and completely unaware of the effect you're having on him, makes his pulse pound in his ears. He wonders what you would do if he were to push those panties to the side and slide a finger in you.

You shift again, leaning deeper into the cabinet as your voice drifts back to him, murmuring something about not seeing it. His jaw locks, teeth pressing together as he fights to maintain control. His fingers dig into the armrests of his chair, the leather creaking faintly beneath the strain. It's a futile effort, though; the pressure building in his chest, his body, is relentless.

The heat pools low in his abdomen, simmering and insistent, a sharp pulse of arousal tightening every muscle in his body. He's painfully hard now, the evidence uncomfortably against his slacks, but he doesn't dare move. His mind a blur of want--what he wants to do to you, what he knows he shouldn't do, and the precarious line he's treading just watching you like this.

The tension in his body seems unbearable, and for a fleeting second, he considers how easy it would be to walk over, to let his hand graze your hip, to tilt your chin up so you'd look at him and see the wreckage you've left in your wake.

But he doesn't. He can't.

Instead, he forces himself to remain still, staying rooted, the self-restraint biting and bitter.

"Are you sure it's under here? I still don't see it."

Hotch's lips twitch, the smallest shadow of a smirk threatening to break free on his face. He leans forward, feigning surprise as he picks up the file from the corner of his desk.

"Ah," he says, waving the file. "Looks like it's been right here the whole time."

You straighten abruptly, brushing your hands down your skirt and turning towards him with a soft laugh. "Hotch! So I was practically upside down in that cabinet for nothing!"

He shakes his head, giving a small chuckle to match yours. Not for nothing. The satisfaction still simmers low in his chest, a private indulgence he knows you'll never suspect--the movement was far from wasted.

"My mistake."

"Well, I guess we all have our moments. Let me know if there's anything else you need, okay?"

When the door finally closes behind you, he exhales shakily, the breath spilling out like a confession. Leaning back in his chair, he presses his fingers to his temples, his entire body tense with the effort of restraint. He feels unmoored, like a man balancing on the edge of a precipice, one misstep away from losing everything he’s worked so hard to keep under control.

But for now, he’ll settle for watching, for imagining, for wishing—knowing full well that nothing could ever come of it. And yet, as he glances at the door where you’d just been, a part of him wonders how much longer he can hold out.

It’s going to be an impossibly long day—but the most troubling part of all is how much he’s starting to enjoy the torment.

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join my taglist here!

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #perv!aaronhotchner #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner fic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x fem reader #hotch #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader

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tom-foolery-incorporated · 2 months ago

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How did Shockwave train his human to take his big spike? I just read your Brainstorm x Reader fic (hot as FUCK I loved it) and it got me thinking about how it must've been frustrating at first for Shockwave trying to have sex with his human at his full size. I imagine he mass displaces or changes his spike? I wanna frag shockwave so bad but I also don't know how long I'd survive as a human fleshlight 😭

Could you maybe write something for that? Like Shockwave and his human being sexually frustrated and him accidentally edging himself trying to be gentle with his human? Maybe thighfucking or just the tip. Get creative please! I love your work and the most recent Shockwave x reader got me thinking 🙏💗

I’m sitting here kicking my feet and twirling my hair. Ty for liking my writing!!! It means a lot <3

Anyway…..

Shockwave x Reader, gender neutral AFAB, racially ambiguous, wet dreams, dirty talk, just the tip, reader gets used as a toy, thigh fucking

“Hnn! Shockwave!” Your cute moans echoed throughout your shared habsuite. Such soft flesh dimpled under Shockwave’s servo as he gripped your body.

“You’re doing so well,” Shockwave could hardly contain the steam moving through his vents, his entire frame covered in coolant.

Your juices pooled around the base of his spike. He was so proud of you for finally being able to take him to the base. The head of his spike making a delicious bump in your abdomen as your body tries to mold itself around him. He hoped he could carve your walls into the shape of his spike.

He pulled you up off of his spike, your legs curled up to your hips as you presented your stretched hole to your lover. Shockwave’s servo gripped around your waist tighter in a possessive hold. You gasped feeling him pull himself out to the tip of his spike before lowering you back down to the base with a wet squelch.

“Perfect,” Shockwave whispered. “My perfect pet.”

Shockwave pulled you off him once again before plunging his spike deep in you. He twisted his hips to tease the inside of your cunt with how his spike twitched and moved within you.

RECHARGE CYCLE COMPLETE

Shockwave’s optic blinked online. His processor worked overtime replaying his dream; it was so life like. He could feel your sleeping form curled up next to his helm. The nest of pillows and blankets you had made supporting your sleeping body atop Shockwave’s shoulder plating. He moved his optic down to look at his chasis before gazing at you from the side of his vision.

He knew it was physically impossible for you to take his spike to the base unless he looked into modding his frame. He would consider it but he still wanted to see just how much your body could take. Humans were surprisingly durable and Shockwave wanted to test just how durable your body could be when assaulted with pleasure.

You were so cute, so innocent, sleeping up against your big metal lover. Shockwave could almost forget the countless nights he’d had you stretched out over his digits or stuffed with as many toys as he could fit in you. Seeing how peaceful you were, no one would be any the wiser to how Shockwave had had you screaming his name and squirting by his doing. Shockwave pictures your sleeping face covered in his transfluids. He’d work his spike over you until you woke up to a pink surprise dripping all over you. He knows you’d be a good pet and clean him up. Your soft tongue licking at his spike trying to gobble up as much of his overload as you could.

What have you done to him? The Decepticons’ most feared scientist reduced to a simple pleasure bot for you.

Shockwave absentmindedly rubbed his helm against your sleeping body. What was just a small movement to him was enough of a nudging to wake you up. You groaned while grabbing onto Shockwave’s helm.

“Good morning,” Shockwave greeted raising a servo to stroke at your hair. “Did you have a restful recharge?”

You moved your hands to grab at Shockwave’s servo giving his hand a hug as you peppered kisses along his digit. “Mhm,” you said while rubbing your face against his servo. “Did you?”

Shockwave thought back to his dream. How wonderful it would be to have you spread wide on his spike. So tight he could barely move outside of shallow thrusts.

“I did indeed,” Shockwave replied.

“Have any dreams?” There was a knowing tone to your voice that made Shockwave’s finials twitch.

“I did dream,” Shockwave said curtly.

“Good dreams?”

“Yes.”

You climbed out of your blanket and pillow nest so you could stand on Shockwave’s chasis with your hands on either side of his optic. “Do you want to share with the class?” You teased.

“I believe ‘the class’ already has an idea as to what my dream entailed,” Shockwave ran his servo up your back.

“All I know is that you were venting pretty hard and praising me,” you ran one of your hands along the ridge of Shockwave’s optic.

“My apologies if I disturbed your recharge cycle,” Shockwave let his servo wander to your lower back where his entire hand encompassed your rear and upper thighs as well.

“It was hard not to wake you up,” you murmured with your lips brushing along the ridge of his optic. “I couldn’t help but touch myself hearing you so worked up.”

Shockwave let one of his digits slip between your legs and press up against your heat. “I’m offended you didn’t wake me to join you,” Shockwave teased pressing his finger up against your clothed arousal. You moaned grinding down on his digit. “You work so hard,” you purred pressing kisses along his optic screen. “I wanted you to get a full recharge.”

You slipped your hand down to grab Shockwave’s digit as you humped it. “My big strong scientist always working so hard.”

Shockwave’s engine rumbled at your praise. “Do you wish to know what my dream entailed?” Shockwave relaxed his servo letting you set the pace for how you humped his finger. “Please, Shockwave,” you moaned out.

“I had your human valve spread wide enough to take my spike to my pelvis,” Shockwave explained. “I used you like a spike sleeve.”

Your whole body shivered at the idea. “Mmm, I’d like that,” you murmured feeling a wet stain starting to form inside your underwear. “I want to be stretched out over your cock.”

Shockwave released his modesty plate letting his erect spike spring into the air. “I’m sure you would,” Shockwave said while moving his servo to tug at your pajama pants. “But I’d prefer to not have you injured.”

You whined frantically tugging at your pajama bottoms and underwear only to discard them somewhere to your right. Shockwave couldn’t help his amusement at how needy you had become. Your pubic hair glistening with your slick arousal.

“Your frustration is mutual,” Shockwave held onto your body as he sat up. Your nest falling apart and falling to the berth below.

You looked over your shoulder trying not to drool at how Shockwave’s spike bounced with his movement. “I need you inside me,” you whined as your hand dipped between your folds. Your clit was stiff in arousal as you rubbed it.

“Don’t begin to think that I’m not as desperate to penetrate you,” Shockwave’s chasis rumbled as he spoke. “Your body is very tempting.”

You whined as you leaned back against Shockwave’s servo with your legs spread so he could see how your fingers moved through your slick cunt.

The musk of your pussy hit his olfactory sensors causing a flush of steam to release from his vents. “I would like to propose an idea that may be mutually beneficial.”

“This is exactly where you belong,” Shockwave’s voice sounded desperate as he pulled you along his spike. Your pussy flush against the metal as your legs dangled uselessly. He had his servo wrapped around your torso with your arms pinned to your sides. While you had already cum, your pussy twitching sensitively as Shockwave took what he wanted from you, Shockwave hadn’t.

Your hole fluttered emptily still not satisfied without Shockwave inside of you. “Please!” You begged throwing your head back. You stared up at the underside of Shockwave’s chasis with your eyes half lidded. “Please I can take it! Just fuck me!”

Shockwave growled at your pleading fighting an internal fight with his own desperation and logic. He wanted so desperately to shove his spike as deep as it could go inside of you. He wants to see just how much you can take before you break. Yet every time his logic wins.

Shockwave continues grinding your cunt along his spike leaving a slick trail of your arousal along the metal shaft. His biolights pulsed in agitation so desperate to cum yet not having enough stimulation. “We can attempt penetration today,” Shockwave concluded. He had been training your hole fairly well or so says the display of increasingly large dildos on his shelf he had made for you.

You almost cried out in relief as Shockwave pulled your slick core from his shaft. A string of wet arousal broke as he lifted you away from his spike.

Using his canon arm, he held you against his abdomen as his servo dipped between your legs. Shockwave dipped in two of his digits making you moan out his name. You beautifully took both of his fingers into your greedy hole with a squelch. Shockwave’s spike twitched at the noise. You ran your hands along his canon gripping onto whatever points you could find as he stretched your hole and fucked his fingers into you.

“I would like to set expectations,” Shockwave said while adding another digit into you. “You will not be able to take me to my base. However I will consider any form of penetration a win on our part.”

Shockwave spread his digits making you hiss in both pain and pleasure. Your poor hole was stretched to its limit and yet seemed to still beg for more. He pulled his digits out of your hole slowly so you could feel every inch of his metal fingers. They exited your wet pussy with a slorping noise making you wince in embarrassment and Shockwave’s engine rumble in pleasure.

“You are exceptionally wet,” Shockwave showed you how your slick clung to his fingers like clear slime. “I believe this is as exciting for you as it is for me.” You grabbed Shockwave’s servo guiding his metal hand to your mouth so you could lick your arousal off his fingers. “Good, pet,” Shockwave tilted his optic so he could better see you over his chasis. Pride thrummed within his spark seeing you so well trained as to clean his servo without him asking. Your soft lips sucking along his digits as your tongue peeked out to lick up and around his fingers cleaning your slick off of him.

“Are you ready?” Shockwave dragged the back of his knuckle over your cheek tenderly. You could hardly contain yourself as you spread your legs as wide as they could go. “Please, Shockwave!” You begged holding your folds open with your fingers. “I just want you inside me!”

Shockwave groaned leaking transfluid down his painfully erect spike. He grabbed around your waist teasingly dragging your cunt along his shaft once more before turning you around in his servo so you were facing him. The tip of his spike pulsed against your cunt smearing pink transfluid around your folds. You eagerly reached down to rub at his spike in worship earning a thrust against your pussy.

“If we are unable to initiate penetration, do not feel you are inadequate my pet,” Shockwave assured you. You nodded holding your pussy open in excitement. The tip of his spike kissed at your pulsing hole. He pushed forward gently trying to stuff you full but only ended up gliding his cock through your sopping vulva. “Shockwave,” you whined arching your hips at a better angle. “Behave,” Shockwave tided as he attempted to push into you once more. The very end of his spike hooked onto your hole making you moan out in absolute bliss.

Shockwave’s optic remained trained on the barely an inch of his spike he managed to push into you. He pressed further watching how your face contorted in a mixture of pain and pleasure. Your hole struggled around his girth spasming as your own juices bubbled around his cock.

“Well done,” Shockwave could hardly contain his own moan at the sight. Half of his tip was inside of your tight little hole. Your breathing was frantic as you squirmed in his hold. Your temperature was scorching causing your body to dampen with sweat. “It’s so good!” You moaned out humping the head of his spike. Shockwave’s vents fluttered in bliss as his optic glitched.

“Are you capable of taking more?” Shockwave’s venting was becoming heavy. You were finally here, stretched wide enough to take his spike without any mass displacement or mods. “Please! Please!” You begged your words stringing together in an alphabet soup of praise. “Do not push yourself past your limits,” Shockwave warned before pushing the rest of his cock’s head inside of you.

You felt something inside of you snap as you came from the sensation of being so stretched out alone. Shockwave groaned feeling your walls tighten around him like you were trying to push his massive cock out. He kept your body steady holding his tip firmly in place inside of you. “You are doing wonderfully, pet,” Shockwave moaned giving you an experimental thrust.

You screamed out his name feeling your limbs turn to gelatin from the stimulation. He gave another gentle buck of his hips wanting to hear more of your blissed out noises. Tears strewed down your face as you stared up at Shockwave in disbelief. You had never felt this full your entire life. You were sure he was going to break you and by god did that sound delightful. You hoped Shockwave broke you mind and body only for you to become a sloppy wet toy for him to fuck.

“You take spike exceedingly well,” Shockwave purred pulling you off of the tip of his cock before lowering you once again. You moaned stupidly your brain only able to process the feeling of having your hole so thoroughly stretched beyond its limits. “I am excited to share this information with Soundwave as well.” You became increasingly wetter at the mention of the other bot Shockwave enjoyed sharing you with. “He has requested updates on your training,” Shockwave said satisfied with your fucked out form. “I believe he would enjoy a turn once I am finished.”

You could only nod and drool as Shockwave used your hole as his own personal spike sleeve. Your juices leaking down his spike with a mixture of his transfluids. He could feel his valve clenching in delight at finally feeling that pit within his abdomen that told him he was close. “What is that phrase you use in your human pornography?” Shockwave groaned. “Cumdump?” He pushed forward forcing you to take more of his spike as he released deep within your core. You cried as a spray of squirt erupted from your pussy then dribbled into a pathetic stream. Shockwave kept the head of his spike buried inside of you as he released his overload into your welcoming body. Pink transfluid leaked around his spike dripping out of your fucked out hole and onto his lap.

You sobbed feeling his warm transfluid so deep within you. You rubbed over your abdomen where you felt your womb was. “Beautiful,” Shockwave praised slowly pulling his spike out of you. “You performed far past my expectations.” You shoved your fingers into your stretched hole trying to plug up your cunt to keep any transfluid from leaking out of you. “I see you know your place,” Shockwave lifted you up to his optic as he watched you finger fuck his overload back inside of yourself sloppily. “I will prepare you a bath and a heating pad for your groin. You did very well today, my pet.”

#transformers #transformers x reader #shockwave x reader #valveplug #maccadam #shockwave valveplug #shockwave #transformers smut

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sitepathos · 3 months ago

Text

From Gold to Mold

Chapter 5: The Departure (Warning: this chapter will contain violence. Read at your own risk.)

It’s been around two months since you accepted the Megamycete into your body and for the first time since you were dragged to Gotham, you’re actually happy. With its vast archives, you’re bursting with knowledge spanning over the course of four-hundred years, ranging from the academic to the arts and it’s thanks to that knowledge that your grades have skyrocketed in the past few weeks; where once you struggled with something, now you know better than even the teachers, even correcting them when they make a mistake and outpacing the best students in your class. Sure, by this time, it’s a little too late to get to the top of your class, but you really don’t care about your ranking; all that matters is being able to complete your homework, class assignments, and tests in record time, giving you time to work on more important things, like your game.

Included in the Megamycete’s records are the knowledge and memories of many computer programmers, some of them working for Bruce in his tech division; you also have many artists and musicians swimming in your head, many of them talented in making art on computers, so with your newfound knowledge, you’ve made tremendous strides in making your game. A year ago, you thought you would have to find a way to crowdfund the game in order to pay artists, musicians, and programmers and it would take a few years to make it ready for players, but now, you’re sure you can have this game ready by yourself within the year.

Not only has your intellectual attributes increased, but so have your physical abilities; the Megamycete’s records also include many athletes, both professional and student, and you know how to play every sport that’s ever been played in Gotham, but you haven’t shown any improvement in gym class. You never had any interest in sports before and you sure as hell don’t know. Plus, if you suddenly start showing everyone in the school that you’ve all of a sudden become smarter and stronger out of nowhere, you might attract enough attention that not even the Waynes can ignore.

And that won’t end well for anyone.

Speaking of them, you know they heard about what happened at the My Alibi bar and are working overtime to find the culprit, the only thing they know for certain is that it was the work of someone new. It actually brought a smile to your face when you learned about it, that for all their detective skills, they have no idea that the person they’re hunting for is under their own roof. While Damian is the only one to have ever told you to your face, you know they all think you’re stupid; that because you chose to deal with your fucked up life in a semi-healthy way and not dress up in some stupid little costume and fistfight psychopaths, that must mean there’s something wrong with you in the head.

Fuck all of them. You don’t need them and tomorrow night, you’ll be driving back to Goodsprings.

When you turned eighteen, you inherited all of your Momma’s assets, namely her life insurance policy, bank accounts, and royalties from all her books, all of which was worth a little over two-million; at first, you were going to save that money for when you moved back to Goodsprings in case you had to fix up your old home and pay the bills, but after almost dying due to relying on bus stops and bumming rides off of Alfred was unfair to the man, you decided to take some of the money and invest it in a car. The Megamycete had absorbed many modern car experts, so you were able to pick out a brand new car that was worth the hit to your wallet.

Plus, you had a way of earning a pretty penny and stick it to Bruce at the same time: sell his proprietary technology to Lex Corp. Many of Bruce’s employees are buried in Gotham’s cemeteries, some of them working on the latest technological breakthrough at the time of their deaths and you knew Bruce’s biggest business rival would kill to see what Bruce’s scientists are cooking up in their lab.

You reached out to the man using your computer knowledge to send him an email that couldn’t be traced back to you, stating you had the specs for several of Wayne Enterprises’ latest large scale projects and asked him if he was interested in buying them for a couple million in cash. Knowing he’d never consider the deal without some proof, you included bits and pieces of what you were offering, just enough to show you were legit, but not enough to be useful without the rest of it.

Sure enough, he took the hit and now, here you are, meeting with the most powerful man in Metropolis in his office, which overlooks the entire city. Of course, you’re smart enough to not show him your face, so you took the form of some Joe Schmo that died years ago.

“I don’t believe it,” the man exclaims as he sifts through the papers you drew the designs on. “Medicine, experimental aircraft specs, software designs! Over a million spent in corporate espionage and nothing to show for it. Then you come along, offering more than enough to recoup those losses and then some.” He looks back at you, an ominous twinkle in his eye that makes you shiver. “Any chance I can rely on your services in the future?”

“Perhaps,” you say in your disguised voice. “If I get my hands on more WE secrets, I’ll keep you in mind. Now, about my money?”

“Of course,” he purrs. He snaps at his assistant, who places the briefcase she was holding on his desk and opens it, revealing more money than you’ve ever seen in your entire life. “Twenty million in unmarked bills. I trust that’s more than enough?”

“Yes,” you say, trying to hide your shock from earning enough money to last you the rest of your life in just a few seconds. “I believe it is.”

(We see no signs of sabotage or subterfuge,) the Megamycete says. (It would appear Luthor intends to keep his word. For once.)

“Mercy will see you out,” Lex says as you take the briefcase. He then holds out a business card. “And this is my personal number and email. If you have more secrets you’re looking to sell, call me day or night.”

“Thank you,” you say as you pocket the card.

And with that, you follow the assistant out of Lex’s office and down to the lobby.

(You must be happy to have amassed such a fortune,) the Megamycete states as you walk out the front door. (And exacting revenge on Bruce Wayne makes this moment all the better.)

“You’re damn right,” you respond with a chuckle.

(Perhaps you could use some of that money to enjoy yourself? Since our joining, you have been hard at work with your education or your project. Taking some time to have fun will do you a world of good.)

Its words resonate with you. Sure, you’ve been busy with catching up on school and the gaps in your game, but you’ve done some fun things the last few weeks, right?

(No, we are afraid you have not.)

“Damn,” you mutter. “Guess I should change that.” You glance down at the briefcase in your hand. “Well, we have twenty mil of Lex’s money in here. How about have a night out in Gotham?”

(We agree wholeheartedly,” it exclaims, its voice full of joy and anticipation. (We look forward to seeing what you have planned.)

You chuckle as you change your form to your hardened mold armor and wings and take flight into Metropolis’ night sky. Fortunately for you, it’s a quiet night in the massive city, so Superman isn’t flying around, so you don’t have to worry about bumping into the Man of Steel.

“I gotta say, this city looks a helluva lot better than Gotham,” you remark as you soar above the skyscrapers. “Gotham looks like a giant tomb while Metropolis looks like the future.”

(Yes, we have noticed that no matter the era, the architecture of Gotham refuses to change. The city seems to be doomed to remain locked in a by-gone age. We look forward to seeing the world beyond.)

“You’ll love Goodsprings. Sure, it’s the size of a stamp compared to a behemoth like Gotham, but you can actually sit on your porch at night and not have to worry about gunshots or escaped lunatics. People actually have conversations with one another instead of telling you to fuck off.”

In a less than thirty minutes, you arrive back at Gotham and land on the roof of Wayne Manor and quietly sneak in. Joker’s still on the loose, no doubt waiting for the perfect moment to unveil his latest sick and twisted plan, so everyone’s out and Alfred’s stuck in the Batcave, keeping an eye on camera feeds.

You take out a few bills from the briefcase before hiding it under your mattress and heading out to the back where you keep your car parked. While Bruce has multiple cars, every single one of them is a high-end luxury car that costs way more than yours, so you didn’t want to take the risk of Bruce or the others finding it and doing something to it, so you keep your car behind a large barn that’s used to hold all the groundskeeping equipment.

As you drive off the property, you tell your phone to dial Alfred, who answers it halfway through the first ring.

“Master Y/N, is everything alright?”

“Yeah, Alfred, everything’s fine. I was just letting you know that I’m going out for a bit. Thought some time outside the house would do me some good.”

“While I agree that you need to get more, perhaps tonight isn’t the best time,” he says hesitantly. “I mean, the Joker is still out there, no doubt planning another heinous act.”

You’re touched by the man’s concern for you. Really, you are. But, with the Megamycete, you have nothing to fear.

“Don’t worry, Alfred, I’ll be fine.,” you reassure him. “I promise I won’t be gone too long. I’ll just be in Amusement Mile for an hour or two.”

“Still, I wish you weren’t going by yourself. Perhaps I can get one of your siblings—“

“No,” you cut him off. “I’m going out to have fun before I graduate, not be miserable. If I wanted to be tortured, I’d throw myself in Arkham’s Intensive Care Building.”

“I know why you feel that way, Master Y/N, but maybe you can give them another chance? You’ll be graduating tomorrow night and leaving after the ceremony. I just don’t want you leaving us under such bad circumstances.”

You know the man’s been trying to get the Waynes to notice you, but they’re all busy with their own lives in addition to being vigilantes at night, either fighting crime in Gotham, Blüdhaven, or elsewhere around the world. And when they’re all home, they’re spending time together, having fun that was never meant to include you. You learned that after countless times coming downstairs and seeing them, eating delicious food, laughing, watching movies, and enjoying themselves without you. After a while, you stopped going downstairs when you heard noises coming from the living room.

You don’t belong here, either in the Wayne Family or in Gotham. You never did. You know it, they know it, and deep down, Alfred knows it, whether he wants to admit it or not. You’re a Gould, not a Wayne and there’s nothing that’s going to change that.

“Alfred, I think the ship for us being a ‘happy, loving family’ sailed long time ago. They’ve made it clear that there’s no room for me in their world and I sure as hell don’t want them in mine. All I want to do is go home.”

“I understand,” he says after a brief moment of silence. “I hope you have fun, Master Y/N. And please, if you get into trouble, call me straight away.”

“I will, Alfred. I’ll talk to you later.” And with that, you hang up.

You let out a sigh when the line goes dead. You hated saying things like that to the poor man, but it’s how you feel about the Waynes. Ever since you moved in, all you heard about Bruce is that he’s a caring man and a loving father, but that care and love only appears to be for those he deems worthy of it. For someone like you, a bastard born from a careless one-night stand, he has nothing but neglect and indifference.

And the same goes for the others. They’re all a dysfunctional hodgepodge that are saturated with so much trauma and paranoia that it’s a miracle that they haven’t killed each other yet. You’re sure if they were locked up in Arkham and studied, they could fill an entire library’s worth of psychological textbooks.

(You should not concern yourself with them. They have made it clear that they are not worthy of your love or forgiveness. After so many years of suffering, you are so close to breaking free from your prison. By this time tomorrow, you will be back where you belong.)

“Yeah, back home. Finally.”

After thirty grueling minutes of dealing with Gotham’s traffic, you finally reach your destination: Bat Burger. As much as you hate any mention of Batman, Gotham’s cashed in on the “Bat Craze” and inserts him into anything they can. At least the food’s good; almost good enough to make you ignore the cartoonish Batfamily designs on all the walls. Emphasis on the almost.

“Welcome to Bat Burger,” the teenage cashier, dressed in a uniform designed around Batman, says in a monotone voice as you approach the counter. A brief look in his eyes tells you he’d rather be anywhere else right now. “How can I bring justice to your hunger today?”

“Can I get a Batburger with ketchup, large fries, and a large Bat Cola?”

“Do you want to Jokerize those fries,” he asks as he types in your order.

“No thanks.” You hand him a hundred dollar bill. “I don’t need the change. Keep it as a tip.”

“Oh,” he exclaims, the dead look in his eye gone, replaced by shock. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” you respond, happy to see such a transformation in the teen.

“Thank you,” he stutters as he hands you your cup for your drink. “Your food’ll be out in a minute. Let me know if you need anything else.”

You nod as you take the cup to the drink station.

(That was quite charitable of you,) the Megamycete remarks as you fill up your cup. (Such an action is rare in this city.)

“He looked like he needed it. I know what it’s like to be that miserable. Plus, it’s not like we’re hurting for money. If I ever run low, I still have plenty of Bruce’s secrets I can sell to Lex for a couple million.”

(Indeed. It would appear he had many of his employees working on secret projects that were not meant to be released. Perhaps such things were only meant for his nightly activities?)

“Wouldn’t doubt it,” you say as you sit down. “Kinda surprised no one’s figured it out. Batman’s toys look expensive and there’s not that many people in Gotham that could foot a bill that big other than Bruce Wayne.”

Not long after that, your order was called and you collected your fast food goodness. You practically moan as you take your first bite.

(This is quite appealing,) it says as you take another bite. (Savoring the food in real time is far batter than savoring it from the memories of the deceased.)

“I’ve wanted to come here for a while,” you say as you take a few fries. “Always saw the garbage cans full of Batburger bags when they came back from patrol. They never offered to take me and I never asked.”

(Their loss, we assure you. We can think of no better meal companion.)

“Shucks,” you chuckle. “You’re making me blush.”

After your meal, you decided to go to the arcade a few blocks away from the restaurant, eager to show the Megamycete all your favorite games. Also, with it behind you, you might be able to earn more tickets and win some of the bigger prizes. Your stride’s broken when you hear screaming, gunfire, and people running from the Gotham Arcade.

“What’s going on,” you ask a man as he tries to run past you.

“It’s Joker,” he exclaims, his eyes full of fear. “He’s shooting up the place!”

He runs away as you duck into an alley and call upon the mold to form the armor you’ve been using a lot lately. As you walk towards the arcade, you look through the roots and see the Bats scattered across the city, handling other crises; meaning they wouldn’t be here anytime soon.

“Guess it’s up to us to save the day.”

(The Clown has added many into our archives, all of whom spent their last moments of life terrified and in pain. We think it is time he knows fear.)

You walk into the arcade and are greeted by with over a dozen bodies, all of them riddled with bullet holes.

“My god,” you say, stepping over two teen boys who look like brothers. “There wasn’t a point to this. This is an arcade, not a bank. He just did this because he could.”

You follow the sound of gunfire until you see the Joker, dressed in his signature purple suit, shooting at a bunch of arcade cabinets.

“This is so much fun,” he exclaims as he rips a bunch of tickets from the machines. “Don’t you agree, Harley?”

“Sure do, Mistah J,” his partner, clad in her usual red and black spandex and jester hat, answers as she slams her giant mallet down on a poor Whack-A-Mole machine. She bends down and rips out a bunch of tickets from the smoking husk and holds it up to Joker like some offering to an ancient god. “Look, Puddin’, I won so many tickets!”

It’s then the two lunatics notice your presence.

“Well, well, well,” Joker says as he pockets his ill-gotten tickets. “Not the costumed freak I was expecting.” He holds his hands up to his head. “You’re missing the ears and everything.”

The two laugh and you roll your eyes under your mask.

“Looks like Ol’ Batsy has a new brat in his nest,” she jokes. “So, who’re you?”

“Oh, Harley, his name doesn’t matter.” He pulls out his gun and points it at you. “He’ll just be another corpse.”

He fires the gun and this time, the bullet actually penetrates your armor and pierces your lower torso. You wince at the feeling of a bullet in your gut.

(It would appear the clown uses a higher caliber than the common scum of Gotham,) the Megamycete explains as it heals your body, stitching the wound closed and hardening your armor to repel the stronger bullets. (Funny how he possesses such toys after being in Arkham for so long.)

“Oh, you’re a tough one, aren’t you,” he says, seeing that you’re not going down. “Normally, his little birdies go down from just a little love tap. Are you sure you belong to Batman?”

Now that pisses you off. Bruce may have had a hand in bringing you into the world, but you’re not his. You’re so pissed, in fact, that you raise your right arm and call upon a long tendril that pierces the center of the clown’s chest and pull him towards you.

“Mistah J,” Harley shouts in fear as you bring Joker to your face. She’s obviously paralyzed by fear because she stands there, doing nothing but watching the scene unfold before her.

His pasty white chin is covered in blood as it pours from his mouth and his eyes are wide as saucers.

“Now ain’t that a surprise,” he says with a chuckle, causing him to cough up blood.

“Get this through your sick and twisted head, clown,” you hiss. “I’m not Batman’s anything. There’s no words in any language that can express how much I hate him.”

You twist the tendril and take pleasure in watching him wince in pain.

(He fears you more than the Bat right now. Good. You are far superior than that worm and his collection of misfits. You always were.)

You feel yourself grin at that. You are better than them, aren’t you?

“And as much as I hate to admit it, Jason was right on how to deal with you. When you have a tumor, you don’t dress up in some stupid costume and beat it until it stops being a tumor.” You lift him far above, his head almost touching the ceiling. He flails around, but your tendril holds him in place. “You take a knife and cut it out.”

And with that, your tendril sprouts dozens of smaller ones that burst through his body, rendering it full of holes that it looks like a blood soaked piece of Swiss cheese. Said tendrils twist around until what was once the Joker is reduced to chunks of meat.

“Mister J,” Harley shouts, her voice full of agony, as his remains fall to the floor, landing with a wet splat. She looks at the pile of flesh, tears streaming from her eyes before turning to you, her gaze full of hate. “You bastard!”

She charges at you, her mallet raised and ready to strike, but you wrap her in your tendril, stopping her advance and making her drop her weapon. She struggles and as she does, she lets out loud sobs; ones were intimately familiar with. You let out similar ones when you lost your Momma and over the years you’ve spent in Wayne Manor.

“You killed my Puddin’,” she weeps. “When Bats hears about this, he’ll hunt you down like a damn animal! And when you’re thrown in Arkham, I’ll be waiting for ya!”

(She has a point. Batman and his flock are already looking for you and when they learn you have killed the clown, they will make finding you their top priority; they will marshal every resource at their disposal to finding your identity. Even if she cannot provide them with your identity, she presents a risk to our secrecy.)

You ponder on this as you watch Harley struggle against her bindings, her sobs now filling the arcade. You know the Megamycete is right; she’s a loose end you can’t afford, especially when you’re so close to going home. Plus, you know with Joker gone, Harley has no one to control her and with how racked with grief over the loss of her “love,” she’s a huge risk to everyone on Gotham.

You decide the risks are too great and command a smaller tendril to emerge from the one holding Harley, have it wrap itself around her neck, and quickly snap it, the noise it makes ringing in your ears like a gunshot. You release her from your grip and she tumbles to the floor, lifeless.

(It had to be done,) it assures you. (She represented a threat not just to you, but to the rest of the city. There is no telling how many people would have been hurt the next time she broke free from the asylum’s confines. Plus, the influence of the clown would have stayed with her, even after his death. She would most likely never have returned to what she once was. The rest of her life would have been spent mourning over the clown, inflicting pain onto the innocent, and escaping from and being returned to the asylum. You showed her mercy.)

You hear the words and in some way, they make sense, but right now, you don’t feel like you showed mercy. You’ve heard of the Tragedy of Doctor Harleen Quinzel, everyone in Gotham has at one point or another; the story of a poor psychiatrist new to Arkham who had been prayed upon by a manipulative mass murderer, turning her into his demented partner in crime and cutting a bloody swath across Gotham every time they escaped, leaving behind many orphans, widows, and corpses in their wake. She had spent years listening to other people’s problems and for once, wanted someone to listen to her, to make her feel like she was important.

In many ways, you can relate. Maybe in another life, you two could’ve been friends, wallowing together in your shared misery.

Just then, you learn from the roots that the Bats have been informed of the Joker’s appearance and are now on their way here to capture hm, unaware that you’d already beaten them to the punch.

“Let’s go,” you say, moving quickly. “We’re done here.”

In no time flat, you’re back to your car and out of the area before the Bats showed up.

“Sorry, buddy, but it looks like we may have to take a rain check on that night out.)

(We understand. And you should not feel guilty because of your actions. It is thanks to you that not only many will be able to sleep peacefully in their beds, but many beyond this mortal realm will finally know peace. While many threats to Gotham remain, its largest one has finally been put down.)

“Yeah, I guess.”

(It is also worth noting that we have only been joined for a short time, you have accomplished much more than Batman has the last two decades.)

That actually makes you feel a little better. Yeah, Bruce has been doing this for years and Gotham’s still a hellhole. In the span of a singe night, you make it visibly more safer. And to top it all off, he’ll be racking his brain trying to find out who the hell killed him and he’ll have no idea it was you, his forgotten firstborn son.

“That does make me feel a little better. Thanks.”

“Ok, when you find out who did this, can you please tell me so I can end them a thank you card before you lock em up,” Jason says as they watch what remains of the Joker being collected into a large evidence bag by GCPD while Harley’s body is placed on a gurney and covered by a sheet before being wheeled out.

“You know, I hate to say it,” Jim says as he dismisses a detective. “But I think this is going to make the city way safer. Hell, the mayor may want to offer whoever did this a key to the city.”

“It doesn’t matter if all crime in Gotham stops because of this,” Bruce responds. “It was done the wrong way and when I find out who did this, I’ll deliver them to Arkham myself. I’ll take Joker’s remains back to the Batcave, see if I can find any clues on the identity of his killer. I’ll give them back to you along with my findings.”

“Thanks,” the police commissioner responds as he takes the bag from a forensic investigator and hands it to him.

“Come on, B,” Jason whines as they leave the arcade. “Joker was a piece of shit and it was only gonna end with his death. Whoever this person is, do they really deserve to rot in Arkham over someone like him?”

“Whoever this person is, they took the law into their hands.”

“Pot meet kettle,” Jason mutters, but Bruce doesn’t acknowledge the remark.

“And this person clearly has powers. If they go off the deep end, there’s no telling what will happen. We need to find them before something happens and someone gets hurt.”

Finding this person just became their top priority.

This is it, the night you’ve been waiting for: graduation. It’s funny, when you first woke up this morning, you could feel every second of the day tick as you waited for the graduation ceremony. The only thing that made the time go by fast was you thinking about the conversation you overheard in the kitchen this morning.

Bruce and Tim talking about spending the day at their computers, analyzing every camera feed in Amusement Mile to look for whoever killed Joker. You had to bite your tongue to keep you from laughing. Here you are, the person they’re chomping at the bit to catch, and they have no idea you’re in the other room. You should be happy that they finally want something to do with you, but you know it’s only because you sent Joker to hell, something Bruce should’ve done years ago.

And when you heard that Tim was skipping the graduation ceremony to aid in patrolling? You immediately did a cartwheel down the hall. Not only will you finally be free from Gotham, but you won’t have to share the spotlight with Tim and risk catching their attention, though they probably would’ve had no idea who you were. Alfred tried to get Tim to reconsider getting Bruce to attend, but when those two are obsessing over something, it’s impossible to tear them away from it. The butler tried to tell Bruce that he had another son graduating, but the man left before the sentence could be complete, stating he had work to do.

At this point, it doesn’t even phase you. You know they’ve practically forgotten your existence and you couldn’t care less. You have everything you need to go back home and start your new life, you don’t need them for anything.

“Master Y/N, are you sure you don’t want me to call master Bruce and have him attend your graduation,” the butler fusses over your cap and gown for the umpteenth time. “As you father, he should be here to see one of the most important moments in your life.”

“It’s fine, Alfred, I don’t need him here. Frankly, with the way he’s acted over the years, I’m glad he’s not here. Same with Tim.”

The butler looks at you and you grimace at your remark. Ever since becoming the Megamycete’s host, you’ve noticed changes in your behavior. Where once you use to keep comments like that to yourself, you know say them in front of Alfred, unafraid for his reaction. Or how you use to always speak in a barely audible whisper for fear of being overheard by the Waynes, now you talk to Alfred at a volume that could easily attract unwanted attention. And you’re certain he’s noticed your change, too. God knows that man is aware of everything that goes on in his house.

(It is because you no longer have that fear. Before, you were a timid little thing, afraid of being seen by a predator lying in wait. Now? You are the hunter. They can’t hurt you anymore.)

Alfred opens his mouth to day something, but one of the teachers calls for all seniors to make their way to the field, signaling the beginning of the ceremony. He heads to the stands while you follow your fellow seniors to the field where you’re herded in alphabetical order. Once the teacher was satisfied with the order, she typed on her phone and the graduation music started playing from the speakers at the top of the stands.

As you follow in line, you look up to see Alfred in the front row, holding his phone up, no doubt intending to take several pictures and record just as many videos. You smile at the man, thankful to have him here on this important night. It’s then you think about your Momma and how she’d be cheering for you so hard, everyone could hear her. You feel something slide down your face and realize you’re crying. This is an important day in your life and you’re missing an important person in your life.

(She would be so proud of you. If your memories are anything indication of her character, she would give anything to be here right now. While the butler can never replace her, he is an acceptable stand-in.)

“Yeah,” you whisper as you take your seat near the front of the stage set up in the middle of the field. “He is. And I’m gonna miss him like hell.”

While you’re overjoyed to leave Gotham in your rear view and never step foot in it ever again, you’ll really miss Alfred. The man has been your rock since day one, celebrating your birthday which also happens to be the day of your Momma’s death. He held you while you cried and was your only company in the lonely halls of Wayne Manor.

Maybe you can hire him as your butler? Your smaller house would no doubt be much easier to clean than that behemoth of a mansion. Plus, Alfred is way more than people like the Waynes deserve.

After an eternity, the valedictorian finishes his speech and takes his place at up front, which is when the headmaster walks up to the podium and begins to call the students to come up and receive their diplomas. With each name called, you feel chest begin to tighten. This is the first time in years that so many eyes will be on you. What if you fall flat on your face while walking? Or try to shake the headmaster’s hand with your left instead of your right? Or—

(Relax,) the Megamycete says, bringing you out of your thoughts. (All will be fine. When your name is called, you will rise, walk with a level of pride none of your peers could ever hope to match, accept your diploma with such grace the headmaster will b in total awe, and walk back to your seat with the same pride as before. You are better than any of these children and you will make them know it.)

Hearing those words instantly makes you relax, your the knot that had been building up in your chest untangling, allowing you to breathe again.

“Thanks,” you say, taking a much needed deep breath. “Glad to know you think so highly of me.”

(We speak only the truth. We have seen the lives and memories of countless people over the past four centuries and not a single one holds a candle to you. You possess much potential and now that we are joined, we know you will unleash that potential and the entire world will be in awe of it.)

Wow. You actually have no idea how to respond to that.

(Pay attention, now. You will be called soon.)

It’s then you realize the headmaster is now on the Fs, almost to the Gs.

There’s three people ahead of you.

Then two.

Then one.

Then…

“Y/N Gould.”

This is it, your biggest moment in Gotham Academy. You stand up and walk with the grace the Megamycete said you would, accept your diploma from the headmaster with your left hand and shake with your right, and walk back to your seat. As you do, you see Alfred, a smile stretched across his face and cheering your name as he continues to hold his phone, probably recording a video just before your name was called.

(Excellent, Y/N,) the Megamycete praises as you sit back down. (We offer our most sincere congratulations on your triumph.)

You stare down at the piece of paper down in your hands and you while the evidence is right there in black and white, it still doesn’t feel real. You’re actually in awe of the fancy kind of paper Gotham Academy uses to print its diplomas, with its Coleen gilded edges, bold ink, beautiful calligraphy, and soft feel.

Hell, Alfred may fight you to keep it so he can frame it and mount it somewhere in Wayne Manor.

After that, the rest of the ceremony seems to speed up, the last of the names being called, the headmaster deeming all of you graduates of Gotham Academy, and the graduating class being told to gather behind the chairs for the moment every senior looks forward to: the Cap Throw. You follow your fellow graduates with bated breath, eager to throw your cap and complete your graduation experience.

“On three,” the valedictorian yells from the center of the crowd. “One! Two! Three!”

You eagerly toss your cap with everyone else, your cheers and laughs joining everyone else’s. You watch with joy as the caps soar above you all and begin to float back down to the field, your eyes tracking your cap, which you had decorated with paintings (the Megamycete allowing you to make them flawlessly) of the team you beat Cynthia from Pokémon Platinum with: Infernape, Luxray, Staraptor, Floatzel, Lucario, and Garchomp (you had no idea so many used the same team before you discovered the internet).

You collect you cap while so many try to find theirs and had towards the exit to meet Alfred.

“Congratulations, my boy,” he greets you, his wide smile still adorning his face, before bringing you into a tight hug.

“Than you, Alfred,” you respond, returning the hug.

When you separate, he flags down a passing man. “Pardon me, sir, would you be so kind as to take a picture of the two of us?”

“Sure,” the man says, taking his phone and aiming at you and taking the picture.

“Thank you, good sir,” the butler says as he takes his phone back.

He types on his phone and not even a second later, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket beneath your gown, indicating he sent you the picture.

“I’m so proud of you, Master Y/N. You’ve certainly earned this.”

“Thank you, Alfred. And not just for this, but for everything.”

You two leave the field and he follows you to the gym so you can return your gown and once you do, you two make your way to your car, which is when you realize this is the part of the evening where you two say your goodbyes and you leave for Goodsprings while he returns to Wayne Manor. And the sweet moment you’ve been waiting years for now turns bittersweet. You’ve looked forward to this moment ever since you started high school and while you’re ecstatic to finally leave this godforsaken city, you hate that you have to leave Alfred behind.

“Master Y/N,” he says, breaking the tense silence. “I know you’ve been waiting for this moment for so long, but do you have to leave right now? Maybe your return to Nevada can wait until morning? You really shouldn’t be driving so late.”

“We can put it off for as long as we want, still won’t change the outcome.”

“I know,” the poor man sighs. “But still, it’s over forty hours from here to Goodsprings.”

“I’ll be fine, Alfred. Really. I’ll be super careful. I’ll stop at a motel a few hours from here, take regular breaks, stop at restaurants to eat, and I’ll be there before you know it and in one piece.”

“I just wish I could convince you to stay. I’ll miss you, terribly. The manor won’t be the same without you.”

“I’ll miss you, too, Alfred.”

You two pull each other into another hug.

“Promise me that you’ll call me if you run into any trouble, be it on the road or in Nevada.”

“I will.”

“And that you’ll try to visit whenever you can. I’ll arrange for Master Bruce’s jet to come and get you, you just say the word.”

“I’ll try.”

You’re lying. You’re lying and both of you know it. But, neither of you bring it up.

“And promise me you’ll take care of yourself. I didn’t raise you for over ten years just for you to end up in the hospital just because you didn’t feed yourself.”

“I will,” you laugh. You know he’s joking, he taught you everything he knows about cooking, cleaning, and housekeeping. That, combined with the Megamycete’s records, you have everything you need to keep your house together.

“I just wish your father and siblings were here.” You just did manage to fight off the flinch at the mention of those assholes. “This is an important moment of your life and they should be here to celebrate it with you.”

“I know you do, Alfred,” you respond, thankful that you’re still hugging so he can’t see the face you’re making at the thought of them being here, insulting you and making you feel like graduating somehow made you feel like a failure.

Finally, you two pull apart and with one last goodbye and promise to be careful, you get into your car, the backseat covered by boxes that couldn’t be placed in the trunk. When you woke up this morning, you packed your computer, video games, books, and other things that you refused to leave behind at Wayne Manor, your Momma’s pen sitting in your pocket as you refused to part with it. Sure, there were some things were left behind and while Alfred told you repeatedly he could arrange for them to be delivered to your house, you told him that anything you left behind wasn’t important and could be thrown away.

You didn’t leave much behind, some stuff like a few books you hadn’t read in years, a bunch of notebook paper with stupid ideas for video games that you had years and threw away when you realized no one in their right mind would play them, and an old journal you kept when you first move to Gotham. You archived every major event leading up to Damian’s arrival in those pages, which is when you finally filled it up. You briefly thought about keeping it, but decided against it. You had your stay at Wayne Manor burned into your memory and weren’t eager to have been more reminders around you. Plus, you’re about to start your new life, so there’s no need to carry it around. Maybe you can start keeping a new journal?

You start up your car, put it into reverse, and when you backed up enough, put it into drive and wave at Alfred as you leave the parking lot and follow your GPS to Goodsprings. That’s when your phone finally connects to your radio and starts playing music, Hollow from FFVII Remake, playing at just the right volume.

“Wow,” you chuckle as the music begins. “Talk about great timing.”

(We agree. This song is about heading into the unknown with hope; perfect for the start of your new life. It is as if fate itself is smiling down upon you.)

“Seems like it. You with me, buddy?”

(Every step of the way. Until the very end.)

And with that, you pick up speed as you get onto the interstate.

Alfred watches you drive off and only when you’re out of sight does he finally shed a tear. To see Master Y/N leave is one of the most difficult moments of his life.

He understands, of course. Not only did you leave much behind after the tragic and unexpected loss of your mother, but Master Wayne and the children had given you zero reasons to stay. In fact, they’d given you a million reasons to leave.

But he can’t let you go. Not his favorite member of the family.

He’d never admit it to anyone, but out of everyone in the Wayne Family, he cared for you the most. You were raised by a wonderful, loving woman who knew how to properly raise a child and didn’t skulk about at night, battling with criminals night after night. You had a normal life and knew what life was like outside of being a vigilante, bringing a much needed balance to the manor.

You were a delight to raise, always saying please and thank you, offering to help around the manor, and carrying on pleasant conversations that were the highlight of his day. And if the family would take the time to get to know you, they’d come to the same conclusion he did many years ago.

However, as brilliant as everyone in the family is, they can also be equally foolish. Too wrapped up in their civilian and vigilante lives to see the gift they had been given, but spurred for years. And now, you’re gone.

But not for long. You belong here, with your family, and by God he’ll make sure you know it, your father knows it, and your siblings know it. One way or another, he’ll bring your father to his senses, and when that day comes, he’ll make him go to you and beg for your forgiveness, even if he has to get on his hands and knees. And after that, your father will bring you back home, where you’ll be lavished in the love they should’ve shown you from the beginning.

He’ll do whatever it takes to bring you back home, where you belong. He doesn’t care what he has to do or how long it takes, he’ll make sure you come back to the place where you belong. And when you, you’ll be showered with so much love that you’ll never want to leave ever again.

A/N: I got lucky this week. I was going to have 4 tests this week (2 regular tests and 2 midterms), but a professor I have for two classes got sick and cancelled, pushing the tests for next Monday and Tuesday. With only one midterm left and a study guide basically matching the test, I had plenty of free time to make this chapter. Hope you all enjoyed it!

Tag List: @space1crow @bat1212 @minkyungseokie @nosyrobin @bunbunboysworld @kitty-from-daaaa-voidddd @feral-childs-word @phoenixgurl030 @soriansick @hellcatsworld @prettyboys247 @paolexsstuff @c0l1fl0r @starryperson @kore-of-the-underworld @kiarst @vanessa-boo @moxiemy @greatwhisperspaper @tatsuri-zomushiki @starsdotalk @luna57765 @jsprien213 @lizz-lrm @chericia @lunaluz432 @orbitingtraveler @roseytheteacup @meechibee @bellethesleepypotato @exactlynumberonekryptonite @marsmabe @ellaprime7

#male reader #yandere batfamily #batfamily #batfamily x male reader #batman #yandere barbara gordon #yandere cassandra cain #yandere bruce wayne #yandere damian wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere batfam #yandere dc #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere stephanie brown #batfam #dc x male reader #from gold to mold

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seoltzuki · 3 months ago

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Eusexua

sana x fem reader

smut

Sana wants you as much as you want her. Maybe even more.

eusexua: "a state where you meet somebody that you really like, and you just kiss all night, and you kiss for all hours. You lose time."

a/n: fka twigs I love you. also I’m in my sana era can you tell?

Do you feel alone? You’re not alone.

The beat is familiar, as is the glow of the neon lights casting shadows across the crowded club. You’ve been here before—same time, same place, just like every other weekend. And like always, Sana is here, too.

You spot her instantly, just like you always do. She’s dancing, her body moving fluidly with the rhythm, completely at ease, as if the music was made for her. But tonight feels different—there’s something in the air between you, something more intense.

Sana’s eyes catch yours across the floor, and there’s no mistaking it this time. She’s been waiting for you too. She weaves her way through the crowd, her gaze never leaving yours.

“You’re always here,” she says when she’s close enough, her voice smooth, teasing. “Same time, same place. Waiting for me?”

Her body presses lightly against yours, her lips curving into a smile that sends a shiver down your spine. Her fingers trail along your arm, familiar but always electrifying.

“You like this game we play, don’t you?” she whispers, her breath hot against your skin, her lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Pretending we’re just dancing…”

There’s a heat between you now, built up from weeks of stolen glances. Her fingers tighten on your waist as her body molds against yours.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” she says softly, her tone shifting from playful to serious. Her eyes flicker with something deeper, something that’s been simmering just beneath the surface. “All those nights, watching you, wanting you...”

Her hands slide up your sides, possessive, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. Her lips hover over your neck, teasing but not quite touching.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” she continues, a whine dying at the back of her throat. “I think about you all the time. Even when we’re not here, even when I’m not supposed to.”

You swallow hard, the intensity of her words hitting you like a wave. She knows that you’ve always wanted her too. It was always her.

Always Sana.

She pulls you into a kiss, slow at first, testing, but then harder, more urgent, like she’s finally giving in to the weeks of pent-up desire. Her hands slide to your face, holding you close, like she’s afraid you’ll disappear.

“I’m done waiting,” she says against your lips. “I want you.”

She grabs your hand, her fingers threading through yours with a firm grip. She doesn’t say a word—just smiles, tugs you toward the door, and you follow. It’s always like this with her. She leads, you follow. It's inevitable.

She glances back at you, her eyes glimmering under the streetlights, her lips still curved in that knowing smile. Her hair swings with every step, catching the light as it moves. Her cheeks are flushed from the heat of the club, from the way she kissed you like she’d been waiting weeks to do it.

Her hips sway deliberately as she walks, each step drawing your eyes. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and it’s driving you crazy.

“Still with me, beautiful?” she teases, her voice light but with an edge that sends a spark straight through you. She looks over her shoulder, her eyes flicking to yours, daring you to look away. You don’t.

You can’t.

Her laughter floats in the air between you as she leads you down the street, her pace slow, giving you time to catch up to her. She stops suddenly, spinning to face you beneath the glow of a streetlight. It makes her look almost ethereal.

“Come here,” she whispers. She pulls you into her, her body pressing close, her hand sliding up your arm to your neck, pulling you down to her level.

You barely have time to breathe before her lips are on yours again. This kiss is quick, but it’s enough to take your breath away. She pulls back just a bit, enough to see the dazed look in your eyes.

“I like seeing you like this,” she murmurs, her breath brushing your lips. “Completely undone.”

She giggles, the sound light and carefree, the complete opposite of the heat in her gaze. She gives you a final tug, pulling you even closer, her lips brushing your jaw.

“Don’t worry,” she breathes, “I’m not done with you yet.”

The walk to Sana’s place fades into a blur. You barely register the city around you—the lights, the people, the sounds. It’s all background noise to the feeling of her hand pulling you along.

By the time you reach her apartment, your breath is uneven. Sana steps inside, letting the door click shut behind her. She doesn’t say anything at first, just stands there, leaning against the door, eyes locked on you.

The way the city lights filter through the window makes the room flicker with shadows, like the club lights have followed you here, but now everything is quieter, more carnal.

Sana stays leaning against the door, her eyes never leaving yours as she smirks. “You’re so pretty,” she says, the words almost taunting. “Standing there like that… it’s almost too much.”

She doesn’t move at first, just lets her gaze travel over you, her lower lip stuck between her teeth. Then, slowly, she pushes off the door and steps toward you, her eyes dark.

When she’s close enough, her fingers graze your cheek, barely touching, but enough to make your skin burn. “I can’t decide if I want to kiss you,” she murmurs. A lick of lips. “or just take a bite.”

Your breath catches, the weight of her words lingering as Sana’s fingers slip from your cheek to your wrist, guiding you with an effortless pull. She doesn’t rush, just looks back at you with that same teasing smile, her eyes darker now, her pace slow as she leads you down the hallway.

She brings you into her bedroom, the soft glow of the city filtering through the windows. She stops by the bed, turning to face you, her breath is already uneven.

“Undress,” she says, ever so gently, her gaze roaming your body like she’s already imagining what’s underneath.

You take your time, peeling off each layer, knowing her eyes are on you. The moment your shirt comes off, you hear it—a soft hitch in her breath. Her eyes flicker, darkening with something more primal. She bites her lip, trying to play it cool, but it’s clear she’s affected.

As your pants hit the floor, her chest rises and falls more quickly. “God,” she mutters, voice husky, her eyes tracing the lines of your body. “You’re—” She swallows, momentarily speechless. “You’re so perfect.”

You hold her gaze as you finish undressing, fully aware of how intently she’s watching, the way her breath keeps catching. It sends a rush through you, knowing the effect you have on her.

Her hand trembles slightly as she reaches for the hem of her own shirt. She pulls it off, tossing it aside, but she’s slower this time—deliberate, like she wants you to see every inch of her. Her breath hitches again as she unbuttons her pants, and you can see how much it’s costing her to keep steady.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” she whispers, stepping out of the last of her clothes, her eyes never leaving yours. “I can’t… I can’t believe how badly I want you.”

Finally, she steps forward, her fingers grazing your skin, her breath warm and shaky. “Come here,” she murmurs, her voice softer now, laced with hunger. “I need to feel you.”

Sana closes the distance between you in a heartbeat, her breath shaky as her lips crash into yours. The kiss is deep, almost desperate, her hands sliding up your arms before finding your waist, pulling you closer like she can’t get enough. Her body presses against yours, warm and electric.

She pulls back for a moment, her breath heavy against your lips. “I’ve wanted this all night,” she murmurs. Her fingers trace the curve of your hip before gently guiding you toward the bed.

She steps back just enough to let you sit down, your knees brushing the edge of the mattress. Her eyes are locked on yours, the room around you fading away, leaving only the two of you in the dim glow. You sit at the edge of the bed, heart pounding in your chest, as she stands in front of you, looking so pretty and out of breath already.

She lowers herself slowly, her knees pressing into the floor between your legs, her hands gliding up your thighs. “You’re killing me, you know that?” she whispers, her lips curving into a playful smile before she leans in, kissing you again, this time slower, savoring the taste of you.

Sana pulls back slightly, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she locks onto your gaze. She bites her lip, leaning in until her nose brushes against yours, her breath warm and inviting.

“Use your hands,” she whispers, letting the words linger between you. “Show me what you want. Enjoy me.”

She leans back slightly, a teasing smirk playing on her lips. “Or should I do what I want?” she adds, squeezing your thighs firmly, her fingers pressing in just enough to elicit a whimper from you.

You’re over it—the teasing, the lingering touches that never go far enough. With a sharp breath, your hand moves swiftly, fingers slipping into her hair and giving it a firm tug.

Sana’s moan is immediate, loud and shameless, filling the space between you. Her head tilts back under your grip, exposing the vulnerable curve of her throat as her cheeks flush deep pink. She blinks, eyes fluttering open with a dazed look, her lips parted and breath shaky.

“You like that?” she giggles breathlessly, not missing the way you whined at her reaction.

“Enough,” you huff, tightening your grip. “Just take what you want.”

Sana’s eyes widen at your words, the intensity of your command pulling her out of her playful teasing. She breathes in deeply, her chest rising and falling as she swallows hard. Then her lips curve into a grin, her hands gripping your thighs more firmly as she presses closer, finally giving in.

Her tongue just grazes your folds, and you’re already falling apart. Your core muscles give out as you collapse onto her soft sheets.

Sana releases a high-pitched whine as she watches you unravel from just her touch. Her hands glide up to squeeze your breasts before trailing back down, slipping under your thighs. Her nails dig into your skin as she pulls your legs over her shoulders.

She’s gentle with her tongue, delicately exploring every inch of your sex. She briefly dips into your hole before wrapping her tongue around your clit, suckling softly.

She’s riled you up so much, it’s almost impossible to not already reach your peak. Her moans and soft cries with every stroke of her tongue against your core aren’t making it any easier either. You can’t even tell if it’s from your taste, your sounds, or—

“God, you’re so hot,” she whimpers, catching her breath. “Fuck.” Without missing a beat, she leans in for a swift lick. “You taste so good.”

Or both.

With your last ounce of strength, you sit up and grasp her curls, your body folding and hovering over her. She groans, devouring you hungrily. Everything feels more intense now; her fingers dig into your skin, and her lips move with fervor. The sounds—gosh, the sounds… She’s slurping and grunting against you and it’s filthy. Completely lost in pleasure, you start to grind against her face, and a deep moan escapes her.

“That’s what I want! Yes! Use me, baby,” she cries out, her voice breaking with desperation.

You obey, releasing yourself all over her. Her tongue plunges in, and her nose lightly brushes against your clit. It feels so blissful that you know you’re gonna fall apart.

A harsh suck and your toes curl. Sana presses deeper into you, her moans urging you to ride out your high.

You gasp, trying to push her head away, but she doesn’t let up, her fingers digging in so hard into your skin that you can’t distance yourself.

"Sana!"

Your head falls back, and you notice the room is no longer dark. An orange glow fills the space as the sun rises, and you realize how much time has slipped away. And oh, fuck—fuck, fuck, fuck!

"Sana! Again, I’m gonna-"

eusexua: "a state where you meet somebody that you really like, and you just kiss all night, and you kiss for all hours. You lose time."

#twice x reader #twice smut #twice imagines #twice scenarios #kpop imagines #gg x reader #gg imagines #sana x reader #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #sana smut

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dreadark · 3 months ago

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so why is Luka obsessed with Hyuna anyway?

(mostly just trying to get my thoughts on Luka down before blink gone rewires my brain)

every pet human is extremely limited in freedom, but Luka's case is definitely the worst literally even his birth was by Heperu's design... he can't control any aspect of his own life, from his participation of ALNST (twice!) to what he eats on a daily basis

*translations all by whatafruit

humans have no power over segyein, and Luka doesn't even have any power over own his own body so what can he have power over, then?

other humans, of course

most obvious in round 5: Luka would've had an easy win even if he barely tried, but he goes out of his way to provoke Mizi anyway until she finally snaps... and he smiles as he's beaten

because this is his "power." he successfully manipulated Mizi into reacting, proving he has some control over the situation no matter how pointless it is in the grand scheme of things, this is all he can influence, so he makes the absolute most of it and this control is so important to him he doesn't care about his own physical injuries

it's Hyuna talking in this comic, but clearly reflecting Luka's own mentality

while for Hyuna it's likely just her love for singing and performing (whatever happens, they can't take this away from her) for Luka I imagine it's the ability to influence others from the stage (crushing his opponents, but also shaping his fanbase?)

...so back to Luka -> Hyuna

it’s mentioned more than a few times that Hyuna’s a really talented performer, but seeing their respective stat pages really drives it in

(think the “superiority test” Hyuna was put through relates to this also)

Hyuna doesn't seem to have been created in any special way like Luka was… she just has a natural affinity to performing. and that's enough that she’s considered a real rival to Luka—Luka, who was literally made for this, and put through constant hellish training on top (the pain of having your heart stopped...) to mold him into the perfect idol

to Luka… if he can’t dominate Hyuna, he can't even take pride in his own ability (that everything he's forced to go through amounts to something?). and power over other humans is all he has, so he needs to overpower Hyuna (also he likely admires Hyuna’s talents at the same time, which just adds to his twisted feelings)

so since his ability isn't enough... by making someone think of you, only you… that’s another way of having power over someone, isn’t it

“your life is mine” “I told you I only wanted one thing”

whatever exactly happened with Hyunwoo… well that certainly worked. both removing Hyuna's most important person and making Luka someone she can't not think of (oh and he doesn't seem particularly interested in Hyunwoo despite how similar the siblings are in personality? Hyunwoo was even the first to approach Luka, not Hyuna so it's likely because he doesn't have his sister's talents)

but you know how his intimacy(?) value for her is only 70% I figure that's because she escaped, so they could never actually face off onstage... maybe he's disappointed in her "wasting" her ability

what all this amounts to is that she did end up escaping his control, and he never even got to compete against her. so until he can somehow completely overpower her, he'll be obsessed with her

I wonder if this represents his final effort to that... ultimately, he values control over his own well-being, so if he can goad Hyuna into killing him, then doesn't that cement his power over her?

and maybe "saves" him from this hellish life too

kind of a tangent, but I really like how their designs contrast this dynamic Luka looks really angelic and androgynous, so from appearance he seems fragile and like someone to be protected (which even Hyuna seemed to be tricked by when they were younger) and Hyuna obviously looks the stronger one in comparison (very #girlboss (lol...))

but their relationship is one where Luka's trying to control her and Hyuna's trying to escape it... that "beautiful lady" line of ruler of my heart always felt somewhat uncomfortable, and then learning it's actually pitiful (가련한) instead of beautiful is... ...it's a very gendered dynamic, if you get what I mean. despite their surface-level appearances going against what's considered typical

#feel free to send me asks to argue btw #im being completely serious here i wanna discuss alnst oTL #alien stage #alnst #alnst luka #alnst hyuna #hyuluka #well it's... about their relationship...#im not going to try to make sense of his relationship chart comment bc my only reaction is 'is he stupid'#ndfgkd #but the artbook rly has a lot #i can't think of round 5 without thinking of rgu so that probably influences my view of luka too...#btw you're lucky im stopping myself here and not going into some excessively pointless tangent #about how he compares and contrasts with ivan #i can make posts without talking about ivan i prommy #'but you're talking about him now' tags don't count #if you somehow got all the way down here can u listen to 'do you want to fight me' by venus hum #why mention that on this post specifically? if u listen you'll understand trust me

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sea-lanterns · 1 year ago

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WETTER 'N BETTER

synopsis: hydro women fu.c.king you inconspicuously at the pool with their vision

featuring: yelan, kokomi, mona, nilou, candace, furina

rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)

warnings: sub! afab gn reader, semi-public se.x (no one sees but you're at a pool), improper use of hydro vision, strap ons, tentacle play (kokomi), cunnilingus, creative uses for hydro, dirty talk, toys made out of hydro, riding, lap se.x, slight asphyxiation but not really (nilou), may be ooc especially for furina because she was added on a whim.

art credits: what does the fox say

YELAN

Yelan smirked to herself as you stared wide eyed at the water formed dildo she procured from the base of her hips, her hand stroking long, languid strokes from the shaft to the tip, as she watched you tremble above the water’s surface. “Don’t be shy, babe. No one’s gonna know…” she chuckled, her vision vibrating with use as her cock moved with tension. “It’s made completely out of water, it’ll slip right in.”

You gulped and looked around nervously, the late hours of the night meaning that only you two were at the pool, yet something inside you felt that you might get caught.

“Yelan…I don’t know.” you bit your lip and felt the water stir as Yelan got in. “We might get caught…”

She laughed at your meek words and gently pushed you back until your skin hit the surface of the wall. “But that’s the fun part, baby.” She suddenly hoisted you up with her strength and kept your legs wrapped firmly around her. The tip of her watery cock pressing up against your folds as you whimper and cling to her neck. “It’s okay, no one’s gonna see what I’m doing to you underwater…”

Making sure the two of you were obscured by the giant rock behind you, she groaned and sunk her shaft inside you as the water slipped right inside. The flexible liquid able to hold its shape as it maneuvered in a way that filled your cunt to the brim, leaving every crevice of you fucked and filled till your eyes rolled back and saw white.

“Nngh! Yelan…fuck—” you grit your teeth as you realize Yelan was filling you to the brim, her cock perfectly shaped to mimic the biggest toy you had, as she slowly rocked her hips back and forth.

“Feel familiar, my dear?” Yelan purred, pounding her length deeper into you as you felt every molded ridge and curve rub inside. “I didn’t have enough room to pack your favorite strap, but I hope this would suffice…”

She laughs into your neck and slams her hips harder against you, reveling in the way the waves shook from her movements as you cling onto her with need. Nails gripping the skin of your rear while Yelan pounded you just the way she would with a regular strap.

KOKOMI

You shuddered as you felt slippery, cold, tentacles climb up your leg in the water. Kokomi giving you a mischievous smile as the water-made tentacles slithered up to your swimming bottoms and tugged at the elastic. “Kokomi…” you warned, giving her a testing glare. “We’re at a pool.”

“No one will see,” she hummed quietly, perching herself over the edge as she commanded the tentacles to climb higher. Vision glowing by her side as she smiled and watched with anticipation for your reactions, the depth of the pool thankfully covering your body as she playfully teased your pussy lips with a tendril.

“Ah…wait…” you gripped the edge of the pool and resisted the urge to tremble in front of your priestess, a pleasurable shiver riveting through your skin as you felt one of the tips prod at your entrance.

“Don’t worry, my love. It’ll practically sink in.” Kokomi giggles as you shiver at the sensation of her tentacles. One of which was currently circling your clit, rubbing and stroking it as if it were just another one of Kokomi’s fingers. “Just think of it as me fingering you…”

Oh how mean Kokomi could be. Toying with your body like this while in a public setting. You were lucky not many people were out swimming, but the thought of being caught in your secluded corner with Kokomi fucking you was too nerve racking for you to enjoy.

“Just relax, let me take care of you for once.”

At her gentle tone, your body instinctively listened and relaxed in her hold. The watery tentacles sliding directly into your pussy and wrapping around your waist in the process. “Oh, there’s almost no resistance,” Kokomi giggles, a tentacle worming its way into your deepest spots and rubbing so pleasurably inside you. “Guess we’ll be doing this more often…”

With a bashful giggle, Kokomi commands the tentacles to begin thrusting inside you feverishly, one giant tentacle holding you still as your hips rock the waves to the rhythm of her thrusts.

MONA

“By the stars, they didn’t show me this…”

Mona had dragged you under an artificial waterfall and hidden you away to fuck you in secrecy. She had used her astrology to predict whether or not the pool would be crowded tonight, and her vision had been proven wrong given by how many people were out swimming at this hour. “Ugh, how annoying…” she pushed you up behind the dark cavern and hoped no one would swim behind to see what you were about to do. “We’ll have to go fast.”

Tilting your head back, your girlfriend kissed you before activating her vision to morph a small body of water into a flexible shape. When the water broke the surface tension, Mona crafted it into a small, handheld dildo and giggled at your surprised face. “What? You act like I’ve never done this before,” she laughed and held the makeshift cock in her hand. “I can do a lot more with my vision, you know.”

She grinned at how hot your face was before tugging off your bottoms. “Come on, don’t worry about it not fitting, I can adjust the size however you like…”

In a matter of moments, Mona was holding your swimming bottoms in one hand and the makeshift dildo in the other, moving it downwards to stir the tip against your folds, and teasing it while she prepped you for the intrusion. “I know what you like, my love. It’ll fit right in like the other toys.”

As she eased you with her words, Mona slowly sank the cock into your cunt and sighed in bliss when she felt you part so easily. The astrologist kissing you gently before moving her hand so that the cock could hit you in deeper areas.

“My my my, my little star. You’re taking it better than when we use a regular toy…” Mona tsked and moved in to kiss your jaw. “And all the little moans you’re making, simply adorable…”

Her voice turned mockingly playful as she moved her hand to speed up the thrusts of the dildo. Shallow waves rocking you two back and forth, while carnal whimpers and moans ripped out from beneath your lips.

“How naughty of you, my little star,” Mona giggles, using her vision to morph ridges on the cock to further stimulate your walls, “We’re not done yet though, water can take on all shapes and sizes…”

NILOU

Above the water, you would appear like any other person chilling by the pool. Below the water however, people would see your girlfriend Nilou on her knees and between your legs with your swimsuit tugged downwards. An air bubble she had created being her only source of air, as she ate you out with lust and passion beneath the waves.

“Mmpf…Nilou…” you tried your best to act casual in front of anyone that passed you by, but Nilou was making it so hard as she pierced her tongue into your folds and lapped at your secreting juices like she was dehydrated. “Not too much, hah…”

You gently grabbed at her hair from below and gave her a tiny tug. Your girlfriend smiled to herself at your little reaction and just dove her tongue even deeper than before. Who knew Nilou could be such a tease when she wanted to?

Gripping your thighs with her fingertips, Nilou spread you a bit more for her as she eagerly lapped more of your cunt, pushing her face and the air bubble closer to your clit so that her nose could bump against it sensually. Your thighs shook at the sudden touch and you almost lost it above the surface if not for Nilou stabilizing you. “Ah…fuck…”

Nilou wasn’t messing around.

Trying to get yourself off faster, you began grinding your hips against Nilou’s face and took notice at how she gripped your thighs tighter, her gentle tongue now cruising faster between your walls while you forced yourself to maintain sanity. ‘They’re writhing, they’re actually writhing…!’ Nilou thought to herself as she smiled into your cunt. ‘I’m doing such a good job!’

Thrusting her tongue wildly, Nilou moaned into your skin and nearly lost focus of her air bubble. Quickly regaining composure and activating her vision once more to give her another dose of air to keep going.

‘They’re twitching…they’re so close…’

Nilou moaned and felt a warmth engulf her face when you came all over her lips. The dancer swimming back to the surface for a breath of fresh air, before kissing you with exasperated breaths.

“Oh, my love, that was amazing…” she murmured, letting you taste your sweet release on her tongue. “We should do this again, but in a more private setting next time…”

CANDACE

In the blanket of the night, you and Candace took a dip in the hot tub at the resort you were staying at and were pleasantly surprised to find that it had been empty. Deciding not to waste another moment of this pleasant alone time with your girlfriend, you both threw off your towels and took a dip, sighing blissfully at the heat that absorbed your bodies.

It’s been a while since Candace had been so relaxed, and the moment her muscles unlocked, she smiled and waved a finger for you to come closer. “Come, dear. Sit on my lap. We haven’t done that in a while.”

You smiled and crawled over to perch yourself just how Candace liked. A playful, slightly sultry smile growing on her lips as she gently raises your hips up over the water. “Up up up, don’t worry, you’ve been in this position before….”

Your cheeks grew warm at her words and you laughed nervously when she lifted you up. “Erm, we don’t have a strap though, babe.” You chuckled, your ass now raised above the water as Candace’s vision glowed. “I know, but it’s good to be creative once in a while.” She smirked and in an instant, a water formed strap had morphed against her pelvis. The tip prodding at your entrance like it was too eager to wait, while Candace looked up at you expectantly with smugness.

Sure enough, you were amazed. And aroused.

“I see,” you chuckle, slowly rubbing the tip between your walls to begin easing down the liquid shaft. “You’re very creative, my dear guardian.”

“A true leader needs to be,” Candace hums, helping you slide down her length before you were firmly seated back on her lap. “Now go on, ride me. But don’t make it too obvious, otherwise we’ll get caught.”

She pats your rear lovingly and sits back to look at you while you begin rocking your hips back and forth, sighing blissfully when the watery strap slid flexibly through your walls and brushed against all your favorite areas. “Oh fuck…right there, Candace…”

You leaned over to kiss your beloved while bouncing on her for more. Making out with her in the dimness of the night, while the hot tub’s water successfully concealed just how rough Candace was fucking you.

FURINA

Furina was a tease. An incredibly childish, almost gremlin-like tease who wanted nothing more than to watch you squirm. She sat idly on a lawn chair by the poolside with an innocent smirk plastered on her lips, kicking her legs back as she sipped a virgin pina colada whilst shamelessly controlling the hydro vibrator she stuffed up your swimsuit. Heterochromia eyes staring tauntingly at the way you gripped the water’s edge.

“What’s the matter?” Furina snickers, stirring the straw of her drink, “Is the water too cold for you, my love? Shall I bring you warmth so you shan’t shiver?”

When only a strangled moan crawled out your throat, Furina grinned and waved her hand to force the vibrator to squirm faster. The ridges of the morphed hydro toy causing you to buckle over and bury your moan into your lips. ‘Furina…!’ you wanted to scream, the wriggling toy of firm water just too good for you to tolerate. ‘Slow it down…!’

Alas, Furina was not a mind reader and she took your body’s reactions as a sign to go faster, enjoying her little exhibition game with you. “Careful now, dove. You’re making quite the waves with your little trembling…”

She laughed haughtily at your irritated glare and crossed her legs over to make it look like she was your ruler. Even though she was. With one final sip of her drink, she made a mocking “aaah” sound of refreshment before snapping her fingers. “I’m getting bored now, dove. Perhaps it’s time to skip to the main event.”

Her eyes glimmered with mischievous amusement and you felt your stomach flip with anticipation. Here it comes…! Your girlfriend then makes the vibrator squirm deeper inside you and writhe so pleasantly against your spongy walls. The makeshift toy working wonders on that little bundle of nerves as it wormed its way in in a way that had you seeing stars.

“Oh, Furina…” you whimpered out your liege’s name in passion, the watery vibrator buzzing harder into your sweetest places. “I’m almost…”

Fuck. There was that shit-eating grin again as Furina smiled sadistically and ceased the vibrator’s movements, letting it turn back into water and slide out of your puffy cunt.

“F-Furina–!”

“Hush now, pet.” Furina snickered, crawling over to the water’s edge and mockingly patting your head. “I want to spend several more hours at the pool so you need to entertain me for a lot longer…”

#yelan smut #yelan x reader #kokomi smut #kokomi x reader #mona smut #mona x reader #nilou smut #nilou x reader #candace smut #candace x reader #furina smut #furina x reader #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin women x reader #genshin women smut #genshin imagines

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oneeyedlove · 7 months ago

Text

Ash heart.

summary | The blissful months you and Aemond shared after your secret marriage come to an abrupt end as the news of his kinslaying reach your ears.

pairing | Aemond Targaryen x niece!oc

word count | 2.8 k

note | I am new to writing and very unsure about this tbh. Also, english is not my first language so bear with me. Any thoughts are appreciated!

Find part 2 here

---

Princess Aelora Velaryon, second born child to Rhaenyra Targaryen, was perfectly aware of the divide in her family for as long as she could remember. Her mother's claim to the iron throne questioned at any opportunity, the bastardy of her and her siblings birth constantly whispered about the realm, not to mention the animosity displayed between the queen consort and the queen to be. She wasn't blind to it in any shape or form.

Nevertheless, Aelora ignored her instincts when it came to Prince Aemond. The pair held a soft spot for each other ever since they were children, the brown haired girl defending the boy from her brother's and uncle's cruel jests and him opening himself up to her like he never had before, not even to his mother. But even their childish affections couldn't stand the test that the incident brought upon them. The loss of an eye molded Aemond into a resentful man and Aelora stood by her family. Their feelings turned to ash upon a dragon's ire.

Or so was thought.

Despite years that lacked contact betwixt the two sides of House Targaryen, the arrival of Aelora and her family at King's Landing shifted a previously undisturbed passion. Aemond's heart ached in her presence but the prince disguised himself through vile insults and meaningless threats. He could never hurt her, not like she hurt him. The brown haired princess did not feel guilt for choosing her own blood over him all those years ago, after all he had said and done monstrosities she never thought her once sweet uncle capable of. But she did feel sad for him, he lost the most that night. All the anger that resided in the surface could not stand the longing she felt.

After Rhaenyra and Daemon decided it was best to reside in the Red Keep due to her grandsire's deteriorating health, Aelora and Aemond grew closer in their twisted relationship, challenging each other and throwing insults was almost a synchronized dance for the pair. Although appearances showed disdain and anger between uncle and niece, none knew that secret encounters were also their routine. Stolen kisses in dark corridors, comforting looks in public, late night adventures through flea bottom and passionate sex in empty chambers immersed their strained relationship.

The prince and princess knew their love was either destined to mending the bonds their family broke or destroying them completely. And against their better judgment, they got married in secrecy, the only witness being Haelena. They shared their vows under the moonlight in a traditional Valyrian wedding ceremony, like their ancestors. Delusional as the King was due to his illness, he was the only other family member to approve of their union, their parents and siblings confirmed their fears and voiced their disapproval loudly. Aelora's side of the family went as far as demanding her move back to Dragonstone alongside them but she denied the request.

Aemond was now her husband, her moon, her prince.

She was sure she would make peace with her parents and siblings soon, for there was no way of breaking the couple apart.

But that was before the King's death.

Before Aegon was crowned.

Before she realized she needed to choose between green and black.

...

"Aemond, issa hūra (My moon), please listen." Her pleads echoed through their chambers as her husband refused to look at her.

"I must fly to Dragonstone. I need to see my mother and make things right."

"Issa vēzos (My sun), are you aware of what your status will become if you indeed fly to meet Rhaenyra? You would come to be a traitor to the Realm. You must understand it, you would be imprisoned and killed upon your return to King's Landing." Aemond finally spoke, turning his head towards her, his eyes glistening with the light emanating from the thunderstorm outside the window.

"I would lose you." His expression was a sorrowful one as he whispered the words, as if he would conjure them to reality if he spoke clearly.

Aelora let out a long breath and walked towards him, holding onto his arms that now stood at her waist. Her gaze flickered from his chest up to his eye, tiredness emanating from the woman's form as she continued to quarrel with her husband.

"Then what must I be? We cannot refrain from participating in this war, Aemond. You have already taken your place by your brother, making yourself into one of his trusted dragon riders and ally. I am not fit to be both wife of Prince Aemond of the Greens and daughter of The Black Queen."

He placed a strand of hair behind her ear as she spoke, her words were true but he could not bear to be of opposing sides with his one true love. All they had gone through to achieve this could not have been in vain, their marriage couldn't be just another tragedy in the midst of this war, he wouldn't let it.

"My mother must know I have not betrayed her." Aelora continued her sentence frantically.

"She will not be the first to spill blood, I am certain of it. You could convince Aegon not to do so either, we can try to stop the real war before its control slips from our fingers. There must be a way to mend things."

"You are optimistic, my darling. I only wished we hadn't got this far." He said as he got closer and touched her forehead with his.

"I will do my duty as commanded by the King. I shall fly to Storm's End tonight and secure the Baratheon's allegiance to the crown, it will be my last action before we discuss our plans. I promise you, we will find a way out of this."

As she opened her eyes to look at him, anguish poured out of her gaze. Aelora's heart held such love for Aemond that she could feel it tightening at the thought of losing him, as if two ropes were tugging at it from opposite directions.

"Issi īlon vēdros naejot jorrāelagon isse se midst hen vīlībāzma? (Are we mad to love in the midst of war?)" She asked.

"Lo ziry iksos, nyke'll sagon hakossiarzy ondoso aōha paktot. Syt sir se forever. (If it is, I'll be insane by your side. For now and forever.)" With his answer, he took the sides of her head with his hands and kissed her deeply.

It was a passionate kiss, both of them holding each other close as if they would vanish at any moment. Aemond was determined not to lose the thing he held dearest to anyone nor anything in the chaos about to engulf them. No, his sun was his light, she gave him purpose, she gave him devotion, she gave him life. He would fight his way through the Seven Hells for her. He would burn the world to ash.

Certain as her lover was, Aelora dreaded the future as he broke their embrace. He lingered at the link of their hands as he made his way towards the door, but left her even so. The sound of heavy wood clanking ringed in her head, unable to suppress the growing pit inside her.

"Gods be good."

They wouldn't.

...

Aemond's return was filled with misery. His temper, his damned temper, conquered his thoughts completely and the consequences would drown him. He had killed Prince Lucerys. Her favorite brother. He ensured catastrophe over them. He broke his promise.

The prince's mind raced as he sat in the coucil room, it had been almost two hours since he told them what had transpired. Otto and Alicent spent every breath of theirs berating him whilst Aegon congratulated and rejoiced at the news. He had no care for any of their words, but he deeply feared hers. He was sure all of the qualities she bestowed upon him vanished. He was a weak man. Pathetic and evil. He should have stayed away for he never deserved her. Aelora's reaction would destroy him.

"How are we to tell her?" His mother's despair could be seen in her eyes as she spoke.

"I will." That was the only phrase the one eyed prince uttered since he disclosed the events of what had happened.

Aemond stood from his seat and walked away, ignoring the pleads for him to stay and discuss what he was to do. He had no plan to disguise his actions to his wife, she deserved better and he wouldn't pretend to be worthy of sympathy. The promise he made was shattered. Tragedy was about to struck over their marriage and he had no one to blame but himself. As he made his way through Maegor's Holdfast he could hear parts of the whispers spoken about him.

"His dragon ate him."

"Revenge for his eye."

"Kinslayer."

Standing in front of the same doors that witnessed their love from the beginning, Aemond opened them ready for the end. And yet he wasn't prepared for the sight before him.

Their chambers were wrecked. The sheets that used to embrace the couple in their cherished nights were ripped to shreds at the foot of the bed. The dressing table where she readied herself as he watched was tumbled to the side, its mirror shattered into a million pieces. The matching set of chairs and table where they used to have their meals with laughter and love were scattered across the room. The candles that allowed him to study her figure during the countless times they shared intimacies were blown out, the only light being the one emanating from the fireplace.

And there she was, on her knees as she watched the fire. Her beautiful brown locks disheveled in the braids coming undone atop her head, her golden dress was crinkled and burned at the hem. The princess held a small paper on her right hand, the other one placed on the stone floor.

She already knew.

"Aelora..." Aemond tried to speak but his words were buried by guilt.

The woman before him turned her head in an ungodly slow speed, clutching the letter in her hand until her knuckles turned white. Her eyes were puffy and red from crying, the tracks of dried tears still on her face. Yet, she displayed no sadness in her expression, only a dragon's rage.

"You." She growled, her tone making a shiver run down his spine.

"My love, ple-" He started.

Despite Aemond's efforts to plead with his beloved, he knew no words would be able to repair what he had destroyed. The once familiar pet name left a bittersweet taste in his mouth but it was nothing compared to the sourness it brought to her heart.

"Do not address me that way." Her words were low but stabbed him in the chest all the same. He watched as she got herself up from the floor, her fury burning like wildfire.

The princess could not believe what she had read in her stepfather's letter an hour ago, Daemon had to be mistaken. Her husband had promised to avoid the carnage of war, he wouldn't have been so disloyal. She knew Aemond had arrived, for she saw Vhagar flying over the Red Keep, and assumed he had been discussing Lord Borros' response with the council, but she had grown far too anxious as time passed. It had taken too long for it to be a mere coincidence. Lucerys had been killed by her husband. The man whom she loved with all her being, for whom she defied her own flesh and blood, had proven himself the beast all feared him to be. As the tears fell from her face and destruction noises flooded her senses, her love turned to ash.

"You killed him!" Aelora yelled as she strode up to him and pushed his chest back, he made no move to stop her.

"I did." He looked down at her as he spoke.

"You murdered an innocent child!" She mustered all her strength to slap him this time, her chin raising in a defying manner.

"I did."

"Have you no shame? No regret?" She pushed him to the side as she screamed, making him stumble.

Aelora could not believe him. He had broken his promise, broken her family, broken her heart and yet he found it beneath himself to explain anything to her? All the resentment and rage he harbored for Luke had been stronger than his love for her, betrayal falling upon the pair over a childish mistake. His stoic expression mirrored his soul, Aemond had no guilt to convey.

"Do your depraved actions give you pride? Do you relish in your revenge?" She shouted till her throat hurt. He couldn't do this to her, to wreck world and then leave her stranded. No, she would hurt him, she needed to.

"You disgust me. Murderer!" She spat those words as she hit his chest again, receiving no reaction from him other than his eye staring ah the darkess that consumed the chamber.

"Liar!" She pushed him again.

"Cunt" And again.

"Kinslayer!" And again.

Finally Aemond looked at her, the insult landing deeper than her other words. That was his title now. He was everything she claimed him to be and worse, a man to be hated and struck until the end of his days.

"Fight back you traitor!" She swung at him in all the ways she could to no avail, he only stared at her with his arms behind his back as they slowly moved across the room.

"Too righteous to hit a lady, are you Aemond?" Aelora stopped shouting but her voice remained as piercing as a spear.

"I could never hurt you." He answered, his breath shaking.

She could only stare at him in response, a twisted smirk and a scoff the only acknowledgment se could form. The princess scanned him with her eyes until she found his dagger at his waist. In one swift move, she grabbed the blade and threw him onto the wall, placing it on his throat.

"Hypocrisy runs deep in your blood, doesn't it? Worse than your mother, you murder Lucerys and yet claim not to maim me. You think yourself so pure, a true perfect prince of the realm. A Strong bastard's life is nothing compared to yours, is it? I should slice your neck from ear to ear and watch as life flees from your body, see if red stains your honor." She whispered whilst looking into his eye, he had no fear but sadness and regret in his expression.

The prince's death would be a mercy he longed for, the thought of life with only her hatred to call his wasn't worth living. Knowing her light was never to shine upon him again, Aemond was ready to be drowned by darkness once more. His lip trembled as he looked for words, any words, to ask her for his end.

"How could I ever had loved you?" Tears began to form in Aelora's eyes, she couldn't contain them anymore. The pain she felt in her core was almost tangible, how could a love like theirs have now become such a wound? A cut that would never heal, destined be with her forever.

"I was such a fool! To think a twisted soul like yourself would be capable of anything but wrath and violence!" She let the translucent pearls of water run down her face and threw his head against the stone wall as she ripped the side of his eyepatch with the dagger.

Aemond was in the verge of tears himself, watching as the woman he loves so deeply tear him to shreds. He could withstand any torture, suffer any injury and it would never compare to the torment of her loathing. His sapphire eye was exposed now, a drop of blood dripping from the side of his face where the blade touched his skin.

"There. Let everyone see the monster you truly are, inside and out." She backed away from him slowly, her voice trembling just as her legs did.

"Nyke jāhor va moriot jorrāelagon ao, issa vēzos. (I will always love you, my sun.)" The one eyed prince whispered as he leaned into the wall, a single teardrop fell from his eye as he accepted defeat.

With a loud thud, Aelora burst through the chamber's door, leaving Aemond behind. He fell to the ground as he cried, but he knew it wasn't over. As he heard the screech of her dragon echoing through the skies, he knew they would meet again on the battlefield, fighting for different sides. Yet there would be no need for war to ruin them, he already did.

Maybe fate had decided this would be their path all along.

For her blood was black and his was green.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #aemond fanfiction #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #Aemond Targaryen imagines #hotd #hotd x reader #hotd x you #angst

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randomhealer · 7 months ago

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Jiaoqiu ―୨୧⋆ ˚

Warnings: no pronouns used, female anatomy name used (pussy only), cum description, creampie, porn with no plot, not reviewed, pre character, Written on a very bad keyboard.

A/n: I forgot this account existed/j, but seriously I'm testing new things in the nsfw part...I'm also thinking about opening the message box...

You sigh tiredly, lying on your stomach and feeling your hole sore and raw, the feeling of the remnants of the love sessions on your body causing you slight discomfort, Drool dries in the corner of your mouth, tears dry in the corners of your beautiful eyes and the feeling of dry sperm all over your thighs, ass and pussy.

But all this discomfort of dirt is ignored by the real pain in your body, the pain throbbing between your legs as you feel the sensitivity even in the cold in the shared room together with the pain of the bites and bruises that appear on your neck and shoulders, your knees threatening to give way and collapsing on the bed while you enjoy your minutes of rest.

Jiaoqiu is between your legs looking completely fine unlike you, he spreads your wet folds with a finger, absorbed in watching the cum from your third round dripping from your hole abused, He smiles with a satisfied smile as if he has created a new dish with good healing qualities, licking his lips lightly as he denies the pleasure of sticking his nose between your pussy and eating you as you are, It doesn't matter if you are filled with his sperm or not he would eat you with pleasure, if someone asked what his favorite dish was he would casually say that you are his favorite food.

But at the moment Jiaoqiu still has a lot to give you from his balls. Breaking your moment of peace, he positions himself on top of you again, resting his chest on your back as he places a loving kiss on your shoulders, his ears lightly tickling your cheeks as he murmurs sweetly "you're doing so good for me my little fox…just one more."

You mumble incomprehensible things, your throat hurting as you try to say something along with your brain too melted to even hear what he's saying to you.

He laughs lightly in a muffled sound against your shoulder as he listens to your murmurs. You don't hear any other sounds coming from him other than feeling the sensation of the head of his cock sliding between your folds and stopping at your hole before sliding the head and length in of him entering you easily with a loud wet noise, he sighs satisfied with the feeling of being able to enter you so easily, it's as if he has molded you completely to his cock while you just moan in protest.

It doesn't take long before he starts moving, leaving you a crying mess by the end of the night. But don't worry... you know that he will take good care of you and spoil you with the most varied menu possible made exclusively for you.

#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #x reader #hsr smut #jiaoqiu x reader #jiaoqiu x you #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x female reader #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader

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ainspectionsinc · 9 months ago

Text

youtube

Buying or selling a home can be exciting, nerve-wracking, and everything in between! It might be the most significant financial commitment you ever make, so it’s important to know exactly what you’re getting into before you sign that contract.

At Affordable Inspections Inc., we believe knowledge is power, and our inspection findings will give you thorough insight into the home’s condition so you can make an informed decision about your purchase or sale.

You can also visit affordableinspectionsinc.com for more details.

#Complete Home Inspections #Radon Inspection #Real Estate Inspection #Mold Testing #Water Quality Testing #Youtube

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animehideout · 1 year ago

Note

I need more male readers with jjk characters then gn readers in my opinion gn is not even that good anymore!!

First Kiss With JJK Men X Male! Reader ❤️‍🔥

a/n: Hiii anon!! I'll make sure to make my content more diverse for everyone to enjoy💖, This is my first time writing for male readers so I hope you enjoy these headcanons 🫶🏻.

Warnings: NSFW.

Toji Fushiguro: Kisses you out of jealousy

Don't tease Toji, he gets wild!

Seeing you talk so casually with Gojo Satoru who happened to be his rival, did light the flame of jealousy inside him.

With Gojo touching you constantly, made him burn inside.

Clenching his jaw, his eyes narrowing while witnessing the man he wants and desires more than anything else in this world having fun with Gojo instead of him.

The sound of your laughers echoed in his head, as it felt like a pang inside his chest.

His eyes never left your figure, watching every move you made.

Toji knows how flirtatious Satoru can get, especially when he tries to impress someone or get into their pants.

Toji would curse a lot under his breath, battling his internal conflict and urge to not get physical and start a fight in the bar.

He would grab his cup tightly, till it smashed in his hands.

Toji wasn't sure if you were into guys or not so he didn't want to do anything that he might regret.

But he couldn't take it no more when Gojo leaned in closer to you, while feeling your arm.

“Screw it!”

He strode towards your table, and without any introductions he smashed his lips on yours.

The kiss would take you by surprise and leave Gojo in utter shock.

It didn't take you long to kiss him back. A relief would wash over Toji's heart when you reciprocated.

His lips danced in sync with yours as his big hand cupped your face, pushing his lips more into yours.

He pulled away looking at you, his scarred lips curving into a smirk.

You smiled back, cheeks flushing with a pink tint, completely forgetting about Gojo.

“You can forget about Gojo now, from now on, all what you need is me”

Ryomen Sukuna: Kisses you out of challenge.

Don't test this man's patience!

You had the biggest crush on Sukuna.

But you never dared to confess, scared that he might not be into you.

So instead you tried to get to know his opinion about dating a man.

“Have you been in a relationship before!?” you'd ask.

“Huh? that's so random why'd you ask?”

“Come on, just tell me”

“yea.. I've dated a lot of women before..”

Your heart sank inside you, totally crushing your hopes.

Your face expressions would change but you'd play it cool as much as possible.

“w-what about guys?”

“No” he'd say raising an eyebrow.

“so you haven't kissed a guy before?”

“Why would I, if I didn't date a guy in the first place!”

You felt completely hopeless, especially with Sukuna looking extremely hot in front of you, you just wished you'd link your lips together and kiss till you go breathless.

Sukuna noticed your change in mood, and how your energy drastically dropped.

So you started acting chill and playful, like he didn't just break your heart a few seconds ago.

“Oh are you that scared to make the first move on a guy?” you teased.

He'd roll his eyes, completely hating it when someone tries to provoke him.

“Just admit it Sukuna, you don't have the balls to kiss a man, do you get shy?” you continued.

Without saying anything, he'd grab your neck and forcefully pull you against him. His lips crashed on yours, molding perfectly.

You've always wanted to taste him and today you finally did.

Your parted lips, gave Sukuna the opportunity to slide his long tongue inside your mouth.

Taking your lower lip between his sharp teeth.

“I said I didn't date guys before, I didn't say I'm not into them, .. I'm so into you”.

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dixons-sunshine · 10 days ago

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New Year’s Resolution | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

A/N: Happy new year my loves!

(GIF by @dixonscarol)

“So what’s your new year’s resolution gonna be?”

The sound of your angelic voice reached the archer’s ears. His previously stoic demeanour faded away, being brushed away by the chill of the night wind, his frown being replaced by his signature half smile. His ocean-like irises flickered from the stars above to meet your own eyes, and Daryl thought that the sparkle in them could easily be compared with the twinkling of the lights in the sky.

Remembering that you had asked him a question, he scoffed and shrugged. “Don’t know. Survive, I guess,” he replied nonchalantly, toying with the glass of merlot in his hands.

Your laughter was like music to the crossbow-wielding huntsman’s ears. He loved hearing it, and he loved whenever he was the reason you were making that sweet sound in the first place.

“That’s not really a resolution, Dar,” you told him, moving to stand next to him. You were practically hip against hip with him, much to Daryl’s delight. “We all have to do that.” You paused and looked at him, admiring the pure beauty that was the man next to you. “Think of something that you really want to do. Something you didn’t do this year that you want to do next year.”

Daryl hummed at that. He placed his glass down on the ground next to him. “Can it be anythin’?” he questioned in a low voice.

You nodded. “Anything at all.”

From inside the house, you could hear people start counting down. “10!”

“What if s’somethin’ that includes ‘nother person? Does it still count?”

“9! 8!”

Your breath hitched in your throat as Daryl took a step closer to you. You could practically feel his body heat, it being a stark contrast against the cold of the wind. “Yeah. It still counts.”

“7!”

Daryl did not know where this sudden surge of confidence came from. It could have been from the alcohol, it could have been from the fact that you looked absolutely stunning, or it could have been from the fact that he was sick and tired of keeping his feelings for you on the back burner. All he did know, however, was that there was no going back now.

“6!”

“Y’sure it can be anythin’?” he asked. There was barely any space left between the two of you. If he moved his face just the slightest bit, his nose would bump against yours.

“5!”

You let out a shaky breath. You nodded your head slowly, your heart beating in anticipation. “I’m sure.”

“4!”

It was Daryl’s turn to nod. He hesitantly brought his hands to rest on your hips. His touch was as light as a feather at first. He was giving you a chance to step back, to say no. However, when you did not make any protest, his touch became firmer.

“3!”

Daryl brought his face closer to yours, one of his hands sliding from your hip and up to cup your cheek. So far, so good, he thought to himself as he bumped his nose against yours.

“This okay?” he whispered, his lips now a mere hair’s breadth away from yours.

“2!”

“More than.”

“1!”

“Okay.”

“Happy new year!”

With that, Daryl finally closed the remaining distance between the two of you. His lips molded against yours, your mouths fitting together like two puzzle pieces. The kiss was slow, tender, merely testing the waters to see if it was something the both of you liked. And it was. Daryl loved it, and if your soft noises were anything to go off of, you were loving it, too.

The kiss ended too soon for Daryl’s liking. He pulled back and gazed at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You stared back at him with a Bambi-like gaze. You smiled softly. “So what was your new year’s resolution?”

Daryl chuckled and rubbed his thumb over your cheek. “Ain’t it obvious?”

“I want you to say it.”

“That,” Daryl began. “Wanted to grow a pair and finally do that.”

“Guess you completed it, huh?”

“Yeah. Appears so.”

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claramelooo · 27 days ago

Text

Hey, guys! Sorry I'm late, I'm at a sleepover! Enjoy!

MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT!

Warning: +18, discipline

Paring: Mommy Wanda x Brat Fem reader

Summary: After forgetting a date with Wanda, you get what you deserve

VELVET CHAINS

DEPENDECE

The days passed, and you remained unaware of the storm of emotions brewing within Wanda. You felt safe, confident by her side.

Wanda had shaped your self-confidence, helping you develop a sense of identity beyond the submissive, uninspired version your parents had tried to mold. Over time, through playful glances and mischievous smiles, she realized how unique your personality truly was.

Your witty comebacks, questionable humor, and untimely jokes—those were the traits that made you so singular in her eyes. She watched you as if every move you made was a piece of a puzzle she could never fully solve, yet she couldn't stop trying.

It was your carefree nature that unsettled her. You were like a hurricane—unpredictable, irreverent, and utterly at ease being yourself around her. Wanda, so accustomed to meticulous control and carefully planning every step, found her sanity tested by your provocations.

Like that afternoon.

"Do you always have to have the last word?" Wanda asked, raising an eyebrow as she stared at you from across the room.

"Only when someone gives me a reason," you replied, resting your chin on your hand, a smile playing on your lips—half challenge, half charm.

Wanda crossed her arms, slowly walking toward you.

"You know that drives me crazy, don't you?"

"Maybe," you teased, your tone light but full of mischief. "But you love it."

She stopped in front of you, leaning just enough for her presence to completely envelop you. Her green eyes sparkled with that familiar mix of exasperation and fascination.

"And why would I love something so infuriating?"

You shrugged, tilting your head with an innocent smile full of unspoken intentions.

"Because it means you never know what to expect from me. And you like the challenge, Wanda. Admitting it won’t kill you."

Her laugh was low, almost dark, but you saw the corner of her mouth curl upward.

"You’re unbelievable," she murmured, taking your hand and pulling you closer—so close you could feel the heat radiating from her body. "And do you know what the problem with that is?"

"Hmm?" you prompted, looking up at her from beneath your lashes with the most playful expression you could muster.

"It’s that I never want you to change."

The admission carried a weight that caught you off guard. For a moment, the air between you grew heavy with unspoken emotions. But instead of retreating, you chose to break the tension in your own way.

"So, if I make another bad joke right now, you’ll still like me?"

Wanda sighed, but there was a glimmer of amusement in her eyes.

"Go ahead and find out, little one."

You didn’t waste a second.

"What’s the name of the sleepiest superhero? Napman—because he fights sleep!"

Wanda closed her eyes for a second, as if summoning patience. When she opened them, her gaze was intense.

"See? This is what drives me insane."

"But you still like it, don’t you?" you teased, leaning into her, confidence radiating from every move you made.

Wanda didn’t respond with words, but the slow smile spreading across her lips was answer enough.

Hours later, you were curled up on the couch under a blanket, a book open on your lap. Wanda was in the kitchen, focused on preparing something, as she often did, and you felt comfortable enough to be entirely yourself—playful, sassy, and a little bratty—the way only you could be around her.

"Wanda, you’re taking forever!" you whined, throwing your head back dramatically. "I’m going to starve before you’re done!"

She appeared in the kitchen doorway, one eyebrow arched, her gaze making you shiver—but not enough to stop your antics.

"Then come here and do it yourself if you’re in such a hurry," she said calmly, though her tone carried that edge that always made you think twice.

You looked at her with a mischievous grin, knowing exactly what you were doing.

"Oh, but you do it so much better. I deserve the best, don’t I?"

Wanda set down what she was holding and walked toward you, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She stopped beside the couch, looking at you with that perfect mix of exasperation and amusement only she could manage.

"You do deserve the best. But do you know what else you deserve?" She leaned down, taking the book from your lap and setting it aside. "Discipline. Lots of discipline."

Your smile faltered for a second, but you quickly recovered. “Discipline? Why? I’m an angel!”

Wanda chuckled softly, leaning in closer until your faces were just inches apart. “An angel? Are you sure about that? Because to me, you seem more like… a brat.”

You tried to hold back your laughter but failed. “And what are you going to do about it, mommy?” The nickname came out in a challenging tone, and you knew you were playing with fire.

She narrowed her eyes, a slow smile forming on her lips. “Want to find out?”

Before you could respond, Wanda grabbed you by the waist, lifting you off the couch as if you weighed nothing. You squirmed, laughing loudly as she carried you toward the kitchen.

“Wanda! Put me down!” you protested, though your laughter betrayed any attempt to sound serious.

“Not until you learn to stop provoking me. Now, cut the apples, darling. I’m making pie.” She set you down on one of the kitchen chairs, returning to the stove with a satisfied expression.

You crossed your arms, pretending to be indignant. “This is an abuse of power.”

Wanda glanced over her shoulder, smiling. “This is love, my sweet. Now stay quiet and let me finish dinner, or I might come up with other ways to deal with your brattiness.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but her expression made you think twice. Instead, you grabbed one of the apples from the counter and started eating it, that mischievous glint still in your eyes.

Wanda shook her head, laughing softly. She knew you wouldn’t change, and deep down, she didn’t want you to. After all, it was precisely your antics that made every moment with you so unique.

[...]

The smell of freshly brewed coffee and cinnamon donuts filled the small café in the heart of the city. You were sitting in a quiet corner, surrounded by books, notebooks, and loose papers. A cup of cappuccino sat cooling by your side as you scribbled furiously, eyes fixed on a seemingly endless reading list.

“This looks like torture,” Yelena remarked, appearing beside you with a tray in her hands. She sat across from you, balancing her coffee cup and a plate with a croissant.

“It’s Yale,” you replied with a sigh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Not exactly a walk in the park.”

“Why do you do this to yourself?” Yelena asked, frowning slightly. Despite the playful tone, there was genuine concern in her voice.

“Because it’s my dream,” you said firmly, shrugging. “And dreams require sacrifices.”

Yelena laughed, tearing off a piece of her croissant. “Always so dramatic. Relax a little, will you? You’re doing great. Besides, nobody can be perfect all the time.”

“Easy for you to say,” you teased, glancing up at her. “Some of us have to work for what we want.”

“Ouch,” she said, placing a hand over her chest as if wounded. “You’re cruel. And speaking of hard work…” Yelena looked around before leaning over the table. “I have to ask. What’s going on between you and Wanda?”

Your heart stopped for a moment. Her tone wasn’t accusatory or suspicious, so you decided to test the waters.

“What do you mean?”

Yelena frowned. “‘What do you mean,’ seriously? You’re temporarily staying in that witch’s house. Do you realize how concerning that sounds?”

You let out a relieved laugh. “Witch? What are you talking about? Wanda’s an amazing woman!” Yelena gave you an incredulous look.

She crossed her arms, leaning back in the chair as if she were assessing you. Her gaze was half playful, half interrogative. “Amazing woman?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Are we talking about the same Wanda who, with just a look, makes everyone either want to run away or kneel? Because, honestly, this ‘amazing woman’ has a pretty… controlling vibe.”

You laughed, stirring your coffee to avoid her gaze. “She just has a strong personality. She’s determined, you know? It’s not like she’s mean.” You replied—cheeks burning as memories of the previous night flashed through your mind, where you learned firsthand that Wanda could be mean, after all.

Yelena scoffed. “Oh, sure. And I’m the Queen of England.”

“I’m serious, Yelena,” you insisted, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up your neck. “She’s incredible. Smart, funny… and she treats me well.”

“Treats you well, huh?” Yelena leaned forward, narrowing her eyes. “That’s a cute way of saying you’re being super gay for her, isn’t it?”

Your eyes widened, and you groaned in exasperation. “Yelena! Stop it! Wanda’s married!” You made exaggerated hand gestures, hoping to wave away any suspicion.

“Yeah, I know. And yet, here you are, stammering with flushed cheeks.” The blonde pinched your cheeks between her fingers, making you yelp in protest.

“All right, all right!” Yelena raised her hands in surrender. “I won’t tell anyone about your little crush on the married milf.”

You let out a sigh of relief, but you couldn’t help casting a cautious glance at Yelena. “I don’t have a crush on anyone!” you insisted, crossing your arms and trying to sound firm.

Yelena smirked, the mischievous glint in her eyes showing she didn’t believe you for a second. “Oh, sure, because not having a crush perfectly explains why you get all flustered just saying her name.”

“You’re unbearable,” you muttered, grabbing your coffee cup to hide behind it.

“I’m unbearable, but I’m right,” Yelena countered, leaning forward with a conspiratorial look. “So, what did she do to make you like this? Was it that killer stare? Or maybe the way she talks, all authoritative?”

“Yelena!” you exclaimed, nearly spilling your coffee.

“Ah, I knew it!” Yelena slapped the table, laughing loud enough to make a few people in the café glance your way. “You like it when she bosses you around, don’t you?”

“I’m going to kill you,” you said through gritted teeth, though your face was so hot it could have set the entire café on fire.

“Relax, no one here’s judging,” she said, raising her hands again in mock innocence. “I’m just saying that if it were me, I’d probably be swooning too. I mean, the woman’s a total icon of milf power.”

“Milf power? Where do you even come up with this stuff?” you asked, laughing despite yourself.

“I’m Russian. Every Russian knows this,” Yelena replied with a dramatic wave of her hand.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help smiling. Yelena always had a way of disarming you, even when she was being completely irritating.

Yelena raised her cup as if making a toast. “Now, spill. Does she kiss well or not?”

“Yelena!” you exclaimed, feeling your face heat up even more.

“Oh, come on, I deserve to know! If you’re going to tangle with a powerful witch, at least give me the details.”

You shook your head, laughing. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re predictable,” Yelena shot back with a wink. “But that’s fine. I’ll find out one way or another.”

Her laughter echoed through the café, and for the first time in days, you felt a little lighter.

[...]

When you got home, you immediately sensed something was wrong. The house was too quiet. Wanda was in the living room, arms crossed, her eyes glinting with an intensity that made you freeze in the doorway.

“Hi,” you began hesitantly, feeling the tension in the air.

“Did you have fun?” Wanda asked, her voice low but laced with controlled anger.

You swallowed hard, nervousness coursing through your veins. “Yes…” you replied, testing her mood.

Wanda tilted her head slightly, as if assessing your response. The smile that curled on her lips was small but completely devoid of humor. “That’s good,” she said, her sweetness as sharp as a blade. “Because while you were out having fun, I was here… thinking.”

“I wasn’t… I was studying.” Your justification was completely ignored as Wanda started walking toward you, her movements feline.

Wanda took a step closer, and you instinctively stepped back. “I was thinking about how foolish I was to believe you knew your place.”

“My place?” you repeated, surprise mixing with your growing unease.

“Yes, your place,” she replied, her voice colder now. “By my side. Here. With me.”

“Wanda, I didn’t do anything wrong,” you started, but she raised a hand, cutting you off.

“Exactly! You didn’t!” she questioned, her eyes blazing with anger. “You were out with her while I was here… waiting for you for tea.”

As she mentioned it, your gaze fell on the tea set, perfectly arranged—you cursed yourself mentally. You and Wanda had developed small rituals throughout the day, and tea time was one of them.

She would sip her tea while you lay on her lap, listening as she read to you. Guilt stabbed at your heart.

“I… I just went out with a friend. Yelena is a childhood friend,” you argued, trying to remain calm, but her intensity was almost overwhelming.

“Friend,” Wanda repeated, as if tasting the word and finding it repugnant. “Is that why you ignored my messages? Came back smelling like coffee and laughter that wasn’t mine?”

When Wanda realized you’d been with Yelena, it was as if something inside her cracked. Her first reaction was disbelief—how could you be with someone else? It wasn’t conventional jealousy, not the kind that came with exclusivity. It was something deeper, primal, a visceral cry of possession she didn’t know she had until she met you.

She tried to focus on other things, but her thoughts kept circling back to the image of you laughing with Yelena. The smile she considered hers, willingly shared with someone else. As hours passed and her messages remained unanswered, every minute felt like a cruel reminder of her lack of control.

When the sacred tea time you both shared came and went without you, Wanda felt a knot in her stomach. A simple tradition, but one that held deep significance for her—a moment of connection, a bubble where the outside world ceased to exist. And you had broken that.

Anger consumed her, a heat rising through her veins and burning away any rationality. It wasn’t fair. She knew that. You hadn’t promised her exclusivity, but her heart screamed otherwise. She hated herself for being so dependent, so vulnerable.

When she finally heard the door open, it was like the eye of a storm. But when she saw you, with your hesitant smile and disarming tone, the anger surged back in full force.

Her anger wasn’t just about you spending the day with someone else. It was about the vulnerability you made her feel, the intensity of her emotions that she couldn’t control. Wanda didn’t want to feel this way, but at the same time, she didn’t want you to be anyone else’s.

“Wanda, this doesn’t make sense,” you said, frustration building. “I love being with you. Why are you acting like this?”

The confession hit Wanda like a shock, but it didn’t extinguish the fire in her eyes. Instead, she took another step toward you, closing the space between you.

“Because I don’t share what’s mine,” she said, her voice low and weighted.

Before you could respond, Wanda gripped your wrist firmly—but not painfully—and pulled you closer, your faces so near you could feel her breath.

“You need to understand something,” she said, her tone so serious it stole your breath. “I’m yours. And you… you’re mine.”

The weight of her words crashed over you like an avalanche, leaving your body tense. Her gaze darkened even further, and before you could process it, her lips captured yours—demanding, possessive.

There was no gentleness in the kiss, only raw intensity and desire. When she finally pulled back, her eyes were blazing, as if the entire world had disappeared and left only the two of you.

Wanda murmured, her tone slightly softer but still brimming with authority. “I think we need a little reminder of who’s in charge here, don’t you?”

Wanda stood in the center of the room, arms crossed over her chest, her piercing gaze fixed on you. The intensity of her eyes made your skin prickle, but her voice remained calm, as if each word was meticulously chosen.

You know you made me furious today," she began, her voice low and controlled but with a sharp edge. "And when I feel this way, we need to address it properly. First of all, what's the safeword?"

"Green to continue, yellow to slow down, and red to stop," you answered in a near whisper, tension pulsing through your body.

She nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Exactly. Now, I want you to know I have no intention of hurting you, but you need to learn not to test my boundaries. Understood?"

"Yes," you replied, your voice trembling slightly.

"Good girl," Wanda said, her tone firm but tinged with a tenderness that made your knees weak. "Now, lie across my lap."

Your breathing quickened, but you obeyed. With trembling fingers, you unbuttoned your pants and slid them down, draping yourself over her lap, your heart pounding in your chest.

Wanda placed her hand gently on your back, stroking your skin in an almost comforting gesture. "We’re going to count together. Each spank, understood?"

"Yes, ma’am," you replied, your tone small and submissive.

“Why are you being punished, Y/n?” she asked, her hand stroking your ass with a firm grip.

Your lower lip trembled as embarrassment washed over you, leaving you feeling exposed.

"I… I didn’t reply to mommy’s messages, and I forgot about our plans together."

"Good girl," Wanda said, already feeling some of her anger dissipate. "Identifying and acknowledging your mistakes is a big step. I’m very proud of you, dekta."

The first spank came swiftly, making you gasp at the initial sting. "One," you said, your voice shaky.

The second was firmer but still controlled. "Two."

As the spanks continued, the heat in your skin grew. Each one was meticulously measured, never crossing the boundaries you both had established. Wanda’s hand was firm, but you knew she was entirely in control.

By the eighth spank, tears began streaming down your face. Your voice quivered as you counted, "Eight."

Wanda immediately paused, her hand resting on your warm skin. "What’s the color?" she asked, her tone now filled with concern.

"Green," you responded between sobs, though she didn’t seem fully convinced. She sighed, stroking your skin gently.

"Are you okay? Do you want to keep going?" The anger that had consumed Wanda earlier seemed to be rapidly dissolving, replaced by a tenderness that made your heart ache.

"I’m okay," you replied, still tearful but sincere. "Please, don’t stop."

Wanda hesitated for a moment before resuming, her hand stroking your back again. "Alright. But I want you to know that, even when I’m upset, my priority is you. I adore you, my girl, and I will never push past your limits."

“N-nine,” you sobbed, feeling the sting radiate through you.

“Ten!” you exclaimed, relieved that it was over. As Wanda pulled you into her arms, you let everything go—all the anger and guilt you had bottled up.

"Shh, my girl," Wanda murmured, running her fingers through your hair. "It’s okay now. I’m here, and I’ll never let anything hurt you. Not even me."

You nodded, still crying softly as the warmth of her presence enveloped you completely. In Wanda’s arms, you knew you were safe.

Wanda felt herself lost in the abyss that was you. It wasn’t love, at least not the romantic, delicate kind people liked to describe. It was something far more visceral, something that clenched her chest like a closed fist and kept her awake at night, suffocated by a need she didn’t know how to satisfy.

You were a throbbing, vivid, uncontrollable obsession. Every smile, every distracted glance was like a spark igniting something primal within her. Wanda found herself lost in mundane moments—washing dishes, folding clothes—and suddenly, she was thinking of you. The sound of your laughter, the way you furrowed your brow when focused, the warmth of your skin beneath her fingers.

She knew this was dangerous. She knew there was a fine line between wanting someone and needing someone. But with you, that line had long been obliterated. It was no longer a matter of choice. You had become a part of her, an extension of her will, and it terrified her.

What scared her most, however, was the power you wielded without even trying. All it took was your absence for the emptiness to settle in her chest like a slow, corrosive sickness. A mere delay was enough for her mind to conjure terrible scenarios, a storm of insecurities and paranoias she couldn’t contain.

And then there was the touch. My God, the touch. When your fingers met hers, it was as though the world around her ceased to exist. There was something possessive about the way Wanda held your hand, as if she feared you might vanish if her grip wasn’t firm enough. And maybe you would vanish, because you weren’t hers—not really—and that was a constant torment.

There were nights when she lay beside Vision, the husband who was supposed to be her anchor, staring at the ceiling with someone else’s name caught on her lips. In those moments, she felt the depth of her dependency. You were like a drug she’d tasted once and could no longer abandon, no matter how hard she tried.

You were her ruin, but also the only thing that made life pulse through her veins again.

And perhaps that was what Wanda feared most: that without you, she wouldn’t be able to feel anything at all.

~*~

UNREVISED CHAPTER

Tag List <3

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@ctrlaltedits @mbxoxo @jazzyxqzl @sheriffhaughtearp @i-luv-w1men @lesbiansweet @imjustvibingsworld

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axeeglitter · 2 months ago

Text

Sensius: A story of manliness

Ethan’s heart pounded in his chest, the fear coursing through him like ice in his veins. He had been separated from his twin Josh and his friends Nathan and Brad, only moments ago, and he had no idea where he was being led. The room he now stood in was stark, metallic, and unforgiving, a far cry from the comforting familiarity of their shared lives. The heavy door sealed shut behind him with a final, echoing thud, trapping him in this sterile, alien space. Ethan didn’t even want to be here, he only agreed because Josh forced him to come and Nathan and Brad insisted for him to join. He didn’t really enjoy video games, VR, or any surprises.

“Hello? What is this place?” Ethan’s voice cracked with a mixture of fear and frustration. He scanned the room, eyes darting over the sleek, unfamiliar machinery. In the center stood a pod—its dark, glossy surface gleaming under the harsh, clinical lights. It looked like a high-tech coffin, humming with a low, ominous vibration.

Before he could make another move, a voice filled the room. An engineer entered the room, wearing a white blouse and a big smile on his face. “Ethan, right?” he asked with joy in his voice as he approached him. “Great, well I’m Christian, I’ll make sure your test is going as planned. Now if you can climb into the pod on your left, your trial will begin real soon.” Ethan didn’t know if he could trust this men, but not wanting to back off in front of his friends, he started to walk to the pod with a shy path.

Ethan climbed into the pod and tilted his head to look how the machine looked like from the inside. It was slick and futuristic, and under his back was a soft mattress made of light blue silicone.

The interior was disturbingly soft, molding perfectly to the contours of his body and as Ethan relaxed a bit and lay back, the lid descended with a sharp hiss, sealing him in complete darkness. The sound of his own breath filled the small space, fast and shallow as he tried to calm himself.

Then, out of nowhere, restraints clamped down, metal arms snapping into place around his wrists and ankles, pinning him with unyielding force. Ethan gasped in surprise as his stress and anxiety raised back up.

“Let me out!” Ethan screamed, thrashing against the restraints. But the claws only tightened, digging painfully into his skin.

“Restraint sequence activated. Beginning clothing removal.”

A thin red laser beam appeared above him, scanning the length of his body. The beam left a tingling sensation in its wake, and then his clothes began to disintegrate into fine ash, leaving him completely naked and exposed. The cold air hit his bare skin, and he shivered, vulnerable and terrified. “Stop it please! I don’t even want to be here! Help me!” Ethan tied again as he took in the fact that he was now restrained and exposed.

“Clothing removed. Initiating physical modification protocol.”

Ethan’s heart skipped a beat, his body tensing with fear. “No, please! I don’t want this! What is happening? Who is even talking?! STOP”

“Beginning foot structure modification.”

A deep, bone-crunching pain lanced through Ethan’s feet. He screamed, his toes curling involuntarily as the bones inside them cracked and shifted. It felt like someone was snapping each bone in half, then forcing it into a new shape. His feet elongated, the arches lifting painfully as the structure of his bones realigned. He could feel the skin tightening over the new form, every nerve alight with agony.

“Foot sized increased. Adding athletic template.”

His soles burned as thin calluses formed, rough patches developing as though he’d spent years running around. It was as if his skin was being sandpapered from the inside out, layers building up to create a tough, hardened surface to preserve his feet.

Ethan’s breath came in ragged gasps, the pain relentless. He tried to kick out, but the restraints held him firm.

“Starting leg restructuring. Thigh and calf enhancement.”

The agony spread up his legs, a deep, tearing sensation as his muscles began to swell. His calves bulged, the sinews stretching and thickening beneath the skin. It felt like his muscles were being inflated, the pressure building until he thought they might burst. His thighs followed, ballooning outward as the tendons and ligaments pulled taut, adjusting to support his new, powerful form.

His pelvis snapped painfully, bones grinding together as his hips narrowed. He let out a strangled cry, the sound muffled by the pod’s interior.

“Pelvic adjustment complete. Now modifying genitalia and pubic region.”

Ethan’s eyes widened in terror. “No, no, no!” he pleaded, but the AI continued without pause.

A deep, throbbing pressure built between his legs, unlike anything he had ever felt before. It was as if something was pulling at his very core, stretching and reshaping the most intimate parts of his body. His penis contracted and spasmed without him being able to control his muscle. It felt like someone was tugging on his dick and it was about to snap. He felt it lengthened, the skin tightening painfully as it grew thicker and heavier. Every nerve seemed to explode with hypersensitivity, a wave of raw, searing sensation that made him gasp.

His balls felt like they were being tugged downward, the weight increasing as his they swelled, doubling and then tripling in size. The skin grew coarser, darker, as thick, curly hair sprouted across his pubic region. The sensation was unbearable, like a thousand needles pricking his skin at once. He felt them grew more and more but to his shock, he saw them getting short, like if he had shaved a week or so ago. His new pubes were feeling sensitive and were about 1 inch long but very dense, starting to shape waves dancing around his new thick dick.

Ethan could feel the rough hair brushing against his thighs, the unfamiliar weight of his transformed anatomy pressing against his skin. His entire groin ached, a deep, pulsing throb that radiated through his pelvis.

“Please… make it stop,” he whimpered, tears streaming down his cheeks. But the AI continued its cold, mechanical announcements.

“Genitalia modification process completed. Moving up to abdominal and chest expansion in 3,2,1…”

The muscles in his stomach clenched, then seemed to explode outward, stretching the skin painfully tight. He felt his abs forming, each individual muscle carving itself out into a sharp, defined shape. His chest followed, his pecs swelling outward, becoming thick and heavy. It felt like his ribs were being pried apart, the bones bending to accommodate his new size.

He tried to scream, but his voice was caught in his throat, the pain overwhelming every other sensation.

“Shoulder width increasing. Arm muscle enhancement in progress…” His shoulders cracked loudly, broadening as the bones shifted. The muscles in his arms ballooned, biceps and triceps thickening until they felt like they might burst through his skin. His forearms followed, the sinewy muscles bulging as veins snaked across the surface. His fingers elongated, the knuckles thickening, nails reshaping into black claws before retracting into a neat, masculine trim. His hands felt foreign, strong, capable, and unfamiliar.

“Neck and facial structure realignment. Initiation Voice modulation in 3,2,1…”

Ethan’s neck thickened, the muscles bulging against the restraints. His throat vibrated as his vocal cords stretched, his Adam’s apple becoming more pronounced. He could feel his face being pulled apart and reshaped, every bone shifting painfully beneath the skin. His jawline squared off and off settled a bit, his cheekbones sharpening, and his nose adjusted, becoming broader and more defined. Ethan’s eyes started to go bling as a new invasive sensation started in his iris. It felt like his eyes were burning from the inside and he couldn’t see anything anymore. But the second after, when he finally opened his eyes again, vision came back. It was perfect now, like a high-definition camera. Ethan saw a golden hue in his vision before he turned back to a normal natural one. Unbeknown to him, his eyes just went from golden orange back to a rich chocolaty brown.

His lips tingled as they grew fuller, curving into a confident and natural friendly smirk he wasn’t used to. He could feel his hair thickening, dark strands cascading down to form a tousled, messy styled look.

When he tried to speak, a deep, rich voice came out, one that wasn’t his own.

“Body hair enhancement and musk modification.”

A prickle spread across his chest and stomach as thin transparent hair sprouted, covering his new, muscular frame. The scent of his own body changed, becoming earthy and masculine, a raw, potent musk that filled the pod, overwhelming his senses. His pubes vibrated as they started to emit the same potent musk merged with a ball sweat odor. Then when he thought everything was done, his pits started to burn as thick dark and curly hair started to grow under them, far away from his natural almost hairless pits he used to have. “Please, make it stop… I can’t hold on anymore. I want… to go … home.” Ethan said in his new manly and rich voice as tears of pain and fear started to pearl in his new rich brown eyes. The AI didn’t care what he was saying and begging for as a new burning started on his legs where they started to grow dark hair all around and them climbing between his new muscled ass cheeks to recover in a dense forest of thick hair.

He could feel sweat dripping down his ribs from his pits, his heart racing as the final adjustments were made.

“Final height increase. Completing modification and assignation.”

His spine stretched, each vertebra popping as he grew taller. His entire body felt like it was being pulled apart, every joint cracking into place as the last pieces of his transformation locked in.

Ethan lay there, panting, tears streaming down his face. His naked body was no longer his own, it was something new, something powerful and alien.

“Conversion complete. You are ready for the next step. Digitization will start in 3,2,1…”

Ethan tried to scream in his new louder and manlier voice but no one answered. He was trapped inside this monstrous new body, feeling every sensation, every shift of muscle and bone. He had become something unrecognizable, and the pain had only solidified the terror that now consumed him.

All Ethan could do was lay in the pod, his body transformed beyond recognition, his mind reeling from the agony he had just endured. He could barely breathe, his chest heaving as he tried to process the changes, the unfamiliar weight of new muscles, the roughness of his new skin, the potent musk that filled the air, unmistakably masculine and raw.

“Phase two initiated: Digitization process commencing. Please stay still.”

Ethan’s eyes snapped open; pupils dilated with fear. “What now? What are you doing to me?”

But the AI ignored his panicked questions. He felt a strange tingling sensation spread across his skin, starting at his toes and quickly moving upward. It was as if every cell in his body was being scanned, analyzed, and recorded in microscopic detail.

The pod began to hum, vibrations growing stronger beneath him, resonating through every bone and nerve. He could feel his entire body buzzing, the sensation almost unbearable.

“Subject’s physical data captures. Initiating digitization.”

A bright flash of light engulfed him, blinding him for a moment. He screamed as his body seemed to dissolve into pure energy, every atom pulled apart and then compressed into a tight, confined space. His consciousness was squeezed into a single point, a spark of awareness floating in a void of nothingness.

He felt himself being transferred, data streaming through what felt like endless tunnels of code and light. The sensation was nauseating, like being stretched and twisted beyond his limits. He could feel the AI rewriting him, his essence being stripped away and stored in a vast, cold digital space.

“Digitization complete. Subject now online.”

Suddenly, he was slammed back into reality, his new body reconstituted piece by piece. Ethan gasped, blinking rapidly as his vision adjusted to his surroundings. He no longer was in the pod, he was standing in a dimly lit, cluttered bedroom. The walls were covered in posters, the floor scattered with clothes, sneakers, and Lacrosse gear.

Ethan stood up in a hurry from the bed as he turned his head around, trying to understand where he was now. Panic raised inside him as his sight landed on a wet dirty mirror standing on the wall in the bathroom. Ethan approached it, his body drenched in sweat as his new hands raised to touch his new hair. Ethan gasped when he saw his new reflection. That couldn’t be possible he was...

“Uploading Subject: Ethan Brown… Assigned File: Scott McCall” the AI voice resonated inside the room. Ethan turned around and walked out of the bathroom and took a look once again at the bedroom around him, the jerseys, the posters, the pictures and posters on the wall, the lacrosse equipment all around, the messy bedroom, the bathroom on the left side of the bed. This couldn’t be possible. Ethan couldn’t believe it, it was a nightmare. And why was he stuck inside this new body as Scott, he wasn’t even a big fan of Teen Wolf. What was all of that?!

He could feel the soft carpet beneath his bare feet, the air cool against his exposed skin. He looked down, and a shock of confusion washed over him. He was only wearing a pair of tight, gray boxer briefs that clung to his body, highlighting every curve and bulge of his transformed physique. His thick, muscular thighs were covered in dark hair, his abs hard and defined, with a thin trail of hair leading down to his groin where the prominent bulge strained against the fabric.

“Calculating the need of this game… Done. This game miss Alpha. Initiating behavioral enhancement protocol. Upgrading “Scott McCall” to “ALPHA” in 3,2,1…”

Ethan felt his body freeze on the spot. He tried to move, to take control of his own body, but he couldn’t. He felt like a passenger, trapped inside his own mind. His body moved on its own, a confident grin spreading across his lips as he flexed his biceps, feeling the thick, solid muscle.

“No… no, this isn’t me,” Ethan thought, but no voice came out of his mouth,

“Upgrading dominance traits. Increasing testosterone levels.”

A wave of heat surged through him, starting deep in his core and spreading outward. He could feel his muscles swelling slightly, his skin tightening over the expanded mass. The scent of his own sweat filled the room, mingling with the strong, musky odor that seemed to ooze from his pores, it was becoming more and more potent, filled with testosterone. His pecs and abs spasmed as his thin hair started to get a darker hue, getting more and more visible and emitting an earthy scent too.

His groin felt hot and heavy, his bulge growing larger, pressing insistently against the fabric of his boxer briefs. He couldn’t stop it, his cock twitched, hardening involuntarily, the outline of his erection visible through the thin material. A small wet spot formed at the tip, where pre-cum leaked through the fabric.

Ethan’s mind raced. He wanted to cover himself, to find clothes, but his body refused to obey. Instead, he stretched his arms over his head, his biceps bulging, and let out a low, satisfied groan. His eyes flashed the golden hue before starting to change into a deep crimson red. His nails flashed and turned into sharp, dark claws before retracting back into his normal nails. Ethan felt his palms and soles starting to burn as callouses started to appear in them, making sure his feet are safe when he runs bare feet in the forest and every time, he grabs his lacrosse stick to play on the field. His left biceps started to burn as two black thick lines appeared on it to mark him as the new enhanced version.

“Enhancement complete. Initiating behavioral sequence.”

Ethan felt his head tilt slightly, a cocky smirk forming on his lips. A wave of unfamiliar pride washed over him. He looked powerful, every inch of him screamed dominance, from the confident set of his jaw to the way his broad shoulders filled the space. He ran a hand through his tousled hair, admiring the way it fell perfectly into place.

Ethan’s mind screamed in protest. This wasn’t him. He was trapped inside this body, watching helplessly as it moved on its own, flexing and posing like it was enjoying its own reflection.

“Dominant behavior activated. Loading clothes and restrictions.”

Ethan’s eyes widened in horror. His body turned toward the pile of clothes on the floor, a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, a hoodie. He reached down, fingers brushing the fabric, but then he stopped. Ethan felt his hands grab his soaked underwear between his hands before tearing it apart, leaving him naked in his room. Then he grabbed a pair of dirty jeans on the floor and smiled as he raised his torn apart soaked underwear to his nose and smelt it. Ethan felt his face light with a smile as pheromones invaded his brain, the scent of an alpha he thought. He then threw the underwear in the corner of his room and jumped in the pair of jeans commando, making sure to adjust his sensitive leaking cock in the right leg. His bulge throbbed against his hairy leg, a bead of pre-cum leaking through the fabric and staining it darker. He couldn’t stop it; the pleasure radiated through his groin, making his breath hitch.

“Stop… please, this is not … me,” Ethan begged, but his voice was not to be heard. He couldn’t control the grin that spread across his lips, the way his hand ran down his chest, fingers brushing over his hardened nipples, then lower, tracing the line of hair that led to his waistband.

He flexed again, the thick muscles of his torso shifting under the skin. He looked like a god, unapologetically masculine, raw, and primal. Ethan wanted to cry but he couldn’t, he was frozen and forced to look at himself as he felt his new leaking dick coming closer and closer to orgasm.

“Welcome to the Sensius: Teen Wolf Gay Fantasy experience,” the AI announced, its tone disturbingly cheerful. “You are now an integral part of the interactive environment. Follow your programming and enjoy this experience.".”

Ethan felt his body tense as the orgasm was coming closer and closer, his dick spasming and restrained inside his pants, rubbing his sensitive leaking cock head against his hairy leg. The AI talked once again, this time echoing through the whole game like if it was a scream in an empty cave. “Player loaded. Rebooting behaviors in 3,2,1…” His head snapped up, eyes gleaming with a new, fierce confidence. He felt his heart rate slow, the fear draining away, replaced by a wave of calm, dominant energy. He didn’t feel like hiding anymore. He felt powerful, unstoppable. He came. Ethan felt the cum rushing out of his cock and soaking his jeans into wetness. “Scott McCall’s routines starting.” He heard his new voice talking inside his head and he realized he was trapped as Scott from now on until he found a way to free himself.

Ethan was trapped, screaming inside his own mind, but Scott’s body wasn’t listening. It adjusted itself, standing tall and relaxed, hands resting on the thick bulge in his jeans. He gave it a squeeze, the sensation shooting through him like a jolt of electricity. He then grabbed his lacrosse stick and helmet and threw them on his bed before sitting on it. He looked at them with awe in his eyes as he felt the pulsion to play and to fuck in the locker room. Yea, his beta bitch will take it tonight, that’s for sure!

He turned toward the door, taking a deep breath, savoring the scent of his own musk filling the room. He knew he had to leave, there was somewhere he needed to be. He could feel the pull of the programming, guiding his steps.

He grabbed a pair of boots and a tight well used black tanktop then walked confidently out of the bedroom and into the hallway. He didn’t look back. He didn’t need to. He was ready for whatever came next, his mind sharp, his body humming with newfound strength.

And inside, Ethan’s thoughts were a jumbled mess of fear and confusion, unable to break through the iron grip of Scott’s assertive, dominant programming. He was trapped in a body that wasn’t his, forced to feel every touch, every pulse of pleasure, as the new Scott took his first steps into the world.

And he wasn’t going to wear a single piece of clothing to hide what he had become.

______________________________________________________________ Hey everybody! Here is the second chapter about the Sensius project. Hope you guys enjoy it and I'll see you guys real soon for the next chapter! As always, feel free to send me messages if you want to talk about it or to talk about ideas. I love to read your messages and itneract with you all. See you soon and take care of yourself! Part 1

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