#bio kill system | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fatecantstopme · 10 months ago

Text

Lustful Agony

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x plus size!reader

Summary: It's sex pollen, aka my favorite trope.

Warnings: cursing, use of pet names, an insane amount of smut, dubcon (cuz sex pollen), unprotected sex (p in v), oral (F receiving), masturbation (F).

"Would you please be careful?" you snapped.

Your partner froze and offered you a sheepish smile. "Sorry, doc. I wasn't paying attention."

"I noticed," you huffed. "There are any number of things in here that could kill us, so tread lightly."

"Maybe I should wait here."

You glanced in his direction and nodded. "You know what? Good idea. Stay there and don't touch anything."

You continued on through the dusty lab, hoping to find at least one working computer, but after 20 minutes, it seemed hopeless. Every computer had been destroyed and most of the paper files had been shredded or burned. All that remained was hundreds of glass vials filled with various liquids and gases that did gods-only-knew what.

"I'm starting to think this might be a burn and run," you called back to Bucky--still standing where you'd left him on the other side of the lab.

"If we blow this place, is there gonna be a toxic cloud?"

You shot an annoyed look in his direction. "I said 'burn', James, not 'blow'. We're not blowing up a lab filled with unknown chemicals and biological agents."

"Right, yeah." He looked at the ground, feeling slightly embarrassed. He always seemed to make a fool of himself in front of you and he hated it. He never wanted to be the fool, especially around you.

Your well-trained eyes scanned the room again before falling on a secured biological containment chamber. You knew that would be the best option for storing items for burning. All you'd need to do was get all the bio vials into the chamber and light it up.

You crossed the room to the chamber, feeling Bucky's eyes following you. He hated being in a position where he felt like he couldn't protect you, but he was out of his element here. As the resident hazardous materials expert, this was your area of brilliance.

You grumbled in annoyance when you noticed the lock on the containment chamber was activated. You were familiar with this particular model, and if you were lucky, these Hydra assholes hadn't been smart enough to bother changing the code. You input the pin, silently crossing your fingers, a smile spreading across your face when you heard the distinct sound of the mechanism unlocking.

You lifted the hood slowly, hoping to find the chamber empty. You had a momentary thought that you and Bucky should be wearing appropriate PPE, but the thought occurred to you too late.

A sound of surprise escaped your lips as a puff of sweet-smelling pink dust blew into your face from inside the cabinet. The tactical suit and gloves you were wearing did nothing to protect your respiratory system from the unknown substance.

The dust seemed to dissolve almost instantly, fading into nothingness before you could even alert Bucky to the hazard. He, of course, had heard your surprised gasp, thanks to his super soldier hearing.

"Doc? Everything okay?" he called worriedly.

"Not sure," you replied. "I, uh, I got hit in the face with some pink dust...and I'm willing to bet it's not fairy dust."

Bucky's blood ran cold. "Pink dust?"

"Yeah, smelled like some kind of super sweet candy--or those sugary wine coolers I drank in college."

Any color that remained in Bucky's face quickly drained. "Look at me."

His tone was so firm, it frightened you. Bucky normally joked around with you, but you could hear the fear in his voice and it scared you more than anything else.

You turned to face him and his expression confirmed your fears. "Do you know what it is?"

Bucky nodded. "I think so, but we won't know for sure for at least 30 minutes, possibly longer."

"Am I going to die?" your voice was so soft--so small--that even he almost didn't hear it.

"Not if I can help it."

When your eyes met his piercing blue orbs, he could see the terror reflected in them. He wanted to go to you, help you, but he knew he couldn't--not if you still had even the slightest trace of the dust on you.

"You need to rinse off before we get out of here," Bucky said calmly. "If it's what I think it is, then I can't get that stuff anywhere near me."

"Why? What'll happen?"

Bucky's gaze didn't quite meet yours. "I will tear you apart and not even realize it."

His words cut you like a knife. You knew deep in your soul Bucky would never hurt you, but if this substance could turn him into a wild animal, you wondered what the hell it was going to do to you.

You'd spotted a decontamination area when you'd first entered the lab, so you slowly made your way there, careful to avoid getting anywhere near Bucky.

Bucky radioed in to Sam to give him an update on the situation. You heard him describing what had happened and asking for another team to be sent in to destroy the facility.

You stood under the spray of the shower head and let the water pummel your skin. The pressure was almost painful, but you knew it was necessary to ensure the substance was no longer on your skin. You'd inhaled it, so you were screwed, but there was no reason for Bucky to be too.

After several minutes, you felt comfortable saying you were clean. You just wanted to get the hell out of this lab and back home.

You voiced as much to Bucky, but he shook his head slowly. "You're not gonna make it all the way home, (Y/N)."

You didn't like Bucky's use of your first name in this context...he always called you 'doc', and the change made you feel like death was around the corner.

Your face must have given away your fear because he continued. "I just mean you won't make it home before the symptoms start. Once they do, you won't want to be around anyone."

"So what do we do?"

"Safe house. It's our only option."

You groaned inwardly. You had zero desire to stay in that drafty little cabin another night, but you trusted Bucky's instincts, so you simply nodded.

Bucky was quick to usher you back to the quinjet, filling you in on his conversation with Sam. "He'll send in another team in full Level A hazmat gear. They'll take care of the place."

"Okay."

"You alright, doc? How you feelin'?"

"I feel fine so far. Just moderately terrified."

"Don't be. You're gonna be fine."

You wanted to believe him--really you did--but there was something in his voice that made you question if he even believed it.

By the time the jet touched down by the cabin, 25 minutes had passed since the moment of infection. Bucky still hadn't told you what you were dealing with and it was driving you insane.

You followed Bucky into the cabin and watched him drop his bag on the floor. He turned to look at you, eyes clearly sizing you up, checking to see if you were okay.

"Just tell me," you whispered--somewhere between a plea and a demand.

He sighed deeply. "How do you feel?"

You closed your eyes and took mental stock of your body, seeking anything out of the ordinary. "I feel hot, but that could just be the anxiety."

"How hot?"

"I don't know, like feverish, I guess."

Bucky groaned and the sound sent a wave of need through your body--a need that shocked you to your very core. This was absolutely not the time for your stupid crush to rear its head.

"Please don't hit me, okay? I'm just gonna touch your hand."

"Why would I hit you?" you asked a second before his flesh hand met yours. The feeling was pleasant and it warmed you from the inside out, until he removed his hand. You inhaled sharply as an intense pain you couldn't describe shot through you.

Bucky jerked his hand away, his worst fears confirmed. "I know what it is."

"Please," you whimpered.

"It's a biological agent Hydra developed when their attempts to make a useable super soldier serum failed. It was designed to induce a euphoric sexual state that would result in agony and possible death if penetrative sex was not performed and an orgasm was not achieved."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Hydra believed they could create super soldiers the old fashion way--by breeding them. Sprinkle some of the magic dust on a super soldier and he'd fuck his way through a room full of women without a single care for their well-being. They called it 'sex pollen'."

Your breathing was labored as pain began to spread through your body. You tried desperately to ignore it and focus on Bucky's words. "What happened?"

Bucky couldn't look at you as he responded softly, "None of the women survived the mating process."

You realized now what he'd meant back at the lab. You didn't really want to know, but you found yourself asking the question anyway, "Did they do it to you?"

Bucky closed his eyes, desperately trying to push the dark memories back down. "Yeah. They did."

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

Bucky shook his head, banishing the memories. "It doesn't matter. What matters now is how we handle this."

"If the sex pollen had that kind of effect on a super soldier, what's it gonna do to me?"

"I imagine it's going to be significantly worse for you if you don't...umm--if you don't reach climax."

"So I have to orgasm? Seriously?"

"I wish it were that simple."

Before you could respond, you doubled over in pain, an agonized groan escaping your parted lips.

Bucky rushed to you without thinking and laid his hands on your arms. You let out a pained whine and he pulled away, suddenly remembering what was happening.

"It feels like my skin is on fire," you cried.

"I know, doll. I know."

It was killing Bucky not to be able to help you. He was your protector in every situation, but he couldn't protect you from this. He knew exactly what kind of hell you were in for and it nearly broke him.

The waves of pain subsided and you were able to pull yourself upright. "Well this is fun," you mumbled.

"It's gonna get worse, (Y/N). Much, much worse."

"That's comforting, Buck. Thank you."

He gave you a sad look. "You can't do this alone."

"What do you mean?"

"The pollen was designed to force the creation of life...the only way to alleviate the pain is to give the pollen what it wants."

Your brain had become too muddled to understand what he was saying. "Plain English, Buck. Please."

"You, uh, you have to have sex."

"So you're saying I can't just masturbate this away?"

Bucky shook his head. "You have to have sex and your partner has to umm--ejaculate inside you."

Another wave of pain raked its claws through your skin, but you managed to stay upright this time. "What happens if I don't?"

You saw the look of sadness on Bucky's face and you knew you wouldn't like his answer. "You'll die."

"Well, fuck." You winced, reaching out to grab the back of the couch for stability. The pain was only increasing and you knew it was a matter of time before you couldn't take it any longer. "How sure are you that I'll die?"

"I mean, I don't know any regular humans that survived contact with the pollen. They were used as test subjects during its creation."

"I swear, Hydra gets more disgusting every time I learn something new."

Bucky was dying to help you. Seeing you in pain was agonizing for him and he knew his pain paled in comparison to yours. He would do anything for you--all you need do was ask.

"I'm gonna try waiting it out," you said firmly.

"What?" Bucky said, shock evident in his tone.

"I'm sure as hell not gonna force you to fuck me, Bucky. So I'm gonna wait it out."

"(Y/N), you're not forcing me to do anything. I'm offering to help. I don't want you to die."

You shook your head. "I'd rather die than force you into this."

"I'm offering--"

"Don't," you snapped. "No matter what you say, I'm going to feel like I'm forcing you to do something and I can't deal with that. So please, let me try to handle this alone."

Bucky knew for a fact he could overpower you with ease, especially when you were in such a state. He could make the pain stop and you would be glad for it in the moment. But he couldn't do it. He would never ever hurt you like that, even if it meant watching you die. It just wasn't something he was capable of.

"Okay, doll."

You could tell he didn't want to agree, but you were glad he wasn't arguing. All you wanted to do was tear your clothes off and try to find some sort of relief. The fire burning under your skin was intensifying by the second.

"I'm gonna take a cold shower and lock myself in the bedroom. Please stay out here."

Bucky simply nodded. He wanted to sit on this couch and listen to the sounds of your pain about as much as he wanted to get shot in the face. But he respected you too much to ignore your wishes.

You dragged yourself into the bathroom and stripped down to nothing before climbing into the cold shower. The frigid water seemed to help at first, but you discovered the effects were short-lived.

You leaned your head against the cold tile and let out a pained sob. You wanted the pain to stop so badly, but you didn't want to involve Bucky. You couldn't. Bucky was your closest friend and partner. His was the relationship you valued most in life and you wouldn't risk it for anything. It didn't matter you were in love with him. It didn't matter you'd wanted him from the moment you'd laid eyes on him. What mattered is you knew he didn't feel the same.

Bucky had a new girl in his bed several times a week. You were pretty sure you'd never seen the same girl twice in the three years you'd known him. Each one was a tall, blonde, model-thin, gorgeous woman. You didn't check a single one of those boxes. You didn't think Bucky was shallow, he just had a type. He was one of the hottest men you'd ever seen, so it only made sense for him to be with the hottest women.

You didn't think you were ugly, by any means. You just weren't his type. You were shorter, very curvy, girl-next-door average. You'd accepted it long ago and vowed to never tell him how you felt for fear of jeopardizing your friendship. Your current situation was as close as you could get to your biggest fear and you weren't willing to risk it. You loved him too much to lose him entirely. Even if he insisted he was willing to help, you knew he would come to regret it. Things would be awkward between you and eventually your friendship would come to an end.

"Not worth the risk," you muttered to yourself.

The cooling effects of the shower had long since worn off, so you turned off the water and grabbed a towel. As you wrapped it around your body, you found it was too small to cover everything and the scratchy material was painful against your overly sensitive skin.

You dropped the towel to the ground and opened the door a crack. "Bucky?"

"Yeah, doll?"

"Um, the towel hurts my skin, so um...please don't look while I walk to the bedroom."

Bucky inhaled deeply, calming himself. Sure, he wasn't impacted by the pollen, but the fact that your naked body was a few feet away from him certainly did.

"I'll close my eyes."

You tentatively opened the door and peeked out. You could see Bucky sitting on the couch, eyes closed as promised. You quickly rushed from the bathroom to the open bedroom door, shutting it behind you. In your haste to get out of sight, you neglected to lock the door.

You nearly collapsed onto the bed, the need to feel some relief the only thing on your mind. Normally, you would have been embarrassed to even consider touching yourself when Bucky was so close by, but this was an extreme circumstance. You mentally told yourself you needed to be quiet at the very least, given his excellent hearing.

You tried to get as comfortable as you could, but it was impossible. The only parts of your body that didn't ache were the ones you were actively touching. You slipped your dominant hand between your legs and felt another wave of embarrassment hit when you felt just how wet you were.

The moment your fingers brushed between your folds, you let out a loud moan. You slapped your hand across your mouth and hoped Bucky mistook the sound for one of pain.

Bucky was breathing heavily as he sat on the couch less than 10 feet from the bedroom door. He could hear every tiny little sound you made, even as you desperately tried to stay quiet.

He knew he shouldn't be turned on by those sounds--not when you were experiencing something so awful--but he couldn't help it. He'd dreamed of hearing you moan for him a hundred times before. It took all his will-power to not bust down that door and give you what you needed.

You let out a particularly obscene moan and Bucky had to stifle his own. His cock strained against his pants and he hated himself for being turned on. He tried to tell himself it wasn't his fault--he'd wanted you for years--but he couldn't shake the feeling of shame.

Ten minutes went by and the sounds coming from the bedroom continued. Bucky gripped the back of the couch with all his strength, determined to not give himself even a modicum of pleasure from this.

Another five minutes passed and he heard you let out a pained sob. His heart skipped a beat and he listened closely for any more noise. He heard the distinct sounds of you crying and his resolve broke. He immediately went to your door and knocked.

"Doll? You okay?"

"It hurts so much," you whimpered.

He leaned his forehead against the door. "I know, sweetheart. Please let me help you. Please."

He could hear you writhing around on the bed, whimpers of pain reaching his ears and making him tear up.

"I can't--it didn't work," you cried. "I'm so hot--it hurts."

"Please, baby," Bucky begged. He placed his hand on the doorknob, dying to turn it and get to you.

"Bucky," you whimpered.

The pain in that one simple word made his decision for him. He turned the knob and was surprised to find the door unlocked. He opened the door a crack, but kept his eyes away from the bed.

"Let me help you," he pleaded again.

Your eyes roamed his gorgeous figure and you let out a choked sob. Nothing else mattered in that moment--all you could think about was him.

"Make it stop," you begged him.

Bucky's eyes snapped open, meeting yours in a desperately hungry look. He didn't say a word, didn't even allow his brain to process the deeper meaning of what he was about to do. You'd asked him to help you--to stop the pain--so that was exactly what he was going to do.

He stripped out of his tactical suit as fast as possible, leaving himself in his boxer briefs, cock straining to be set free.

You reached out a hand to him and he went to you without a thought. He climbed onto the bed, hovering over you as his eyes scanned your face.

"Are you sure about this, doll?" he asked softly.

"I need you," you whimpered back.

Those three little words shattered the sliver of resolve he'd had left. His lips met yours in a hungry, devouring kiss--all teeth and tongue. His hands latched onto your soft curves, touching every inch of skin he could reach.

Everywhere he touched felt like ice against your burning skin. The sensation both incredible and painful all at once. Whatever bit of shyness or insecurity you had was wiped away by the sheer intensity of it all.

Bucky's lips attacked your neck, your jaw, your collarbone--nipping and sucking bruising marks into your skin. While it felt good, it wasn't nearly enough.

"Need more."

Bucky nudged his knee between your legs to spread them wider for him. "I know, baby. I know."

He quickly descended down to your aching core, blowing hot air against it in a teasing manner. You whined and scratched at his scalp, reminding him this was not the time for teasing.

He flicked his tongue between your pussy lips, seeking out your clit immediately. The second his tongue brushed against it, you cried out in pleasure--the first real feeling of relief you'd had since you'd been infected.

Bucky smiled to himself as he settled in to properly feast on your pussy, reveling in the essence of you against his tongue, invading all of his senses.

You gripped his hair in one hand and the sheet in the other, gyrating wildly as Bucky ate you with abandon. The pleasure was blinding, but you could still feel the undercurrent of raging fire flowing through your veins.

Bucky seemed to instinctively know exactly what you enjoyed, following your body like he had a roadmap to your pleasure points. He sent you over the edge with ease three times before finally coming up for air.

You reached for him, still hungry for more. "Bucky."

"I'm here, baby." He kissed you deeply, hands gripping your hips tightly. He wanted to take his time with you, but he knew he couldn't--you needed more from him and you needed it now.

He was quick to discard his underwear before lining himself up with your entrance. His cock nudged against your aching hole and you both moaned.

"Please, please, please, please..." you begged.

Bucky knew what you needed and he wasted no time sheathing himself inside of you. You cried out in pain as his cock stretched you more than you'd ever experienced before. The pain quickly subsided into pleasure and the pollen seemed to sense its purpose was near.

You felt a surge of need and you begged him to fuck you. "I need it, please, Bucky."

"I've got you, sweetheart." He began to thrust gently, trying his best not to hurt you. The sensations began to overwhelm him as much as they were overwhelming you, prompting him to move faster--losing himself in the feeling of you.

"Fuck, baby. You take my cock so well."

Your pussy fluttered in response, a soft whine escaping your lips.

"Best pussy I've ever had. So tight and wet for me. Made for me, weren't you?"

You nodded rapidly, not really registering what he was saying.

"How many times you think I can make you cum, baby? Six? Seven? Think the pollen can get you there?"

Your eyes widened at his words. Unsure if that was possible even with pollen.

Bucky grinned down at you. "I think I can get seven. Bet this pussy will give me whatever I want, won't she? Gonna make my girl scream my name all night long."

You felt the coil in your belly snap as another orgasm rushed through you. You clung to Bucky, a string of profanity spilling past your lips.

Bucky didn't let you come down from it before pushing your body towards another orgasm. He wanted to feel you gripping his cock like this as long as possible--especially since he might never feel it again.

"Baby, you feel so good," he murmured, placing soft kisses to your face. "Love the way you're squeezing me."

"Feels so good, Bucky," you moaned.

"Fuck, been wanting to hear you say that for so long. Needed to be inside this tight little pussy so badly. It's better than I ever imagined."

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wanted to ask what he meant--if he'd really imagined it, but you were too far gone to articulate a coherent thought.

As another orgasm crashed into you, you momentarily wondered if it was possible to die from overwhelming pleasure. You'd been in so much pain for so long and the sudden change to blinding pleasure was incredible. It was unlike anything you'd ever experienced.

"How many more can you give me, sweetheart?"

"Wanfeelcum," you mumbled incoherently.

"What was that, baby? Too fucked out to speak?"

"Wanna feel you cum, Bucky," you begged.

He was already so close to the edge he nearly lost control at the sound of your voice. But if he was being honest with himself, he didn't want this to end. He was scared if he came, if he gave you what you needed, then you'd be satiated and it would all be over.

"Need to feel you cum on my cock at least one more time, baby."

You whimpered, but nodded your consent.

Bucky picked up the pace, hitting your sweet spot with each thrust. You weren't sure whether it was the pollen or his skill, but you went flying over the edge of blinding pleasure with an intensity you'd never experienced. You screamed his name as the waves crashed over you, pussy gushing juices as you squirted all over his cock and abdomen.

"Fuck yeah, baby. So fucking sexy..." he murmured. "Gonna fill you up. Give you what you want."

"Want your cum," you begged.

"That's right, pretty girl. Gonna give you my cum. Fill up this sweet pussy till you're stuffed."

"Yes, Bucky! Please!"

Bucky's hips stuttered as he came, filling your pussy with ropes of warm cum. Bucky kept thrusting slowly as he whispered your name into your skin over and over like a prayer.

Slowly, the haze created by the sex pollen began to fade, leaving you completely blissed out. Awareness of what you'd done began to creep in, but the feel of Bucky's weight on top of you kept you in the moment.

He finally slowed to a halt, but his lips were still pressing into your hot skin. After several more moments, he raised himself up just enough to kiss you sweetly, making sure you felt his adoration.

The moment he rolled off you, the full weight of what you'd done hit you like a ton of bricks. If your body would have cooperated, you would have turned over onto your side, curled up in a ball, and cried.

Bucky felt the sudden shift in your demeanor and he felt his heart clench in his chest. "(Y/N/N)..."

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

Surprise lit up his face. "What?"

"I shouldn't have done that--I'm so sorry."

"I'm gonna stop you right there." He sat up a little so he could look down at your face. You wouldn't meet his gaze, but he continued anyway. "Don't you dare think for a single second that I did something I didn't want to do. You were in pain and I couldn't let that stand. I would do anything for you, (Y/N). Anything. I don't regret it and I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

Your eyes finally raised to meet his and you saw nothing but honesty in his gaze. You knew he cared about you, but you were still worried you'd crossed a line neither of you could come back from.

Bucky stared at your face, taking in just how incredibly beautiful you were. He was trying to commit it to memory--never wanting to forget any bit of it.

"Thank you," you whispered.

Bucky shook his head. "You don't have to thank me, doll. Like I said, I wanted to." He paused for a moment, a silent war raging inside of him. He seemed to make a decision and once he did, the words just flowed from his mouth. "I mean it, (Y/N). I've wanted to for years--wanted you for years. I never wanted it to happen like this, but fuck baby...here we are. I would do anything you asked of me, okay? I'll rip my own heart out and light it on fire if you ask me to. So if you ask me to pretend this never happened, I will, but I need you to know I don't want to. I want to make love to you over and over again, hear you scream my name, watch your beautiful face as you fall apart for me...I want you. I will always want you."

You were completely breathless by the time he stopped talking. The words coming out of his mouth weren't what you'd ever expected to hear. "You want me?"

"I've always wanted you. Every part of you. Inside and out."

"What about all the other women?"

"What?"

"The ones you bring home all the time."

He touched your face gently, turning your head to look at him directly. "They're fine for a night, but they're not you. They were a poor substitute for the woman I really wanted, but couldn't have."

"Bucky..."

He looked a little crestfallen, mistaking your tone for rejection. "It's okay if you don't feel the same--"

Your hand gently pressed against his lips, shutting him up instantly. "If I could move properly, I would have kissed you to shut you up."

His eyes lit up and a small smile played on his lips.

"Of course I feel the same. Of course I want you. I only pushed you away tonight because I didn't want to lose you. I was afraid you would regret it."

He leaned down so he was inches away from your lips. "Oh sweetheart, I could never regret anything to do with you."

Your lips curled up in a sweet smile. "Really?"

"Mhmm."

"Buck?"

"Hmm?"

"Any chance we can make love? I wanna be in the moment...really in it."

"Right now?" he asked in surprise.

You nodded.

His lips met yours in a loving kiss. "I'm more than happy to oblige."

You grinned as he rolled back on top of you, lips pressing against yours hungrily.

"I'll make love to you as many times as you want. Whatever you want, I'll give you. Just ask."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

You smirked slowly. "Then I might have some ideas..."

"Oh really?"

"Oh yes." You pulled his face down to yours to whisper some of your inner desires into his ear.

"My god," he murmured. "You're gonna be the death of me."

You laughed lightly and he joined in before pulling you in for a passionate kiss, dead-set on giving you everything you wanted and more.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader smut #plus size reader smut #plus size reader #marvel smut #bucky barnes smut #sex pollen

3K notes · View notes

giulliadella · 5 months ago

Text

Bill Cipher's anatomy UPDATE!

Alex Hirsch is going to kill me one day.

So, for those who don't know, I'm the weirdo who did speculative biology of Bill Cipher, mostly as a fun exercise. I'm a biologist after all.

And now, on the stream, Alex Hirsch brought me the unused Bill's anatomy drawing from his book. I lost my mind:

So, now, I can tell you what my spec bio got right and what I got wrong and I can expand on the anatomy a bit!

Btw, this is going to have a NSFW part. I am VERY serious about that. Also, warning for anatomy drawings I guess.

WHAT I GOT CORRECT:

Bill Cipher is an invertebrate! He has a hydroskeleton, which he calls "arm juice", not bones. SUCK ARM JUICE YOU PERSON WHO SENT ME THAT ASK, YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE!

And he's also segmented, although he has more segments than I saw. This isn't unusual, internal structures often keep the segmentation that external structures lost. I was very correct about his exoskeleton splitting in the middle to form a front and back plate and that his limbs protrude through the gap.

His skin is black! It's funny how many people needed to tell me that he's wearing gloves. No he's not!

I accidentally got right that he has a liver. I thought "this dumbass eats and drinks so much shit, if he didn't have a liver he'd be dead by now" and I was right. Considering the size of his liver, I was also right about him being a carnivore (or mostly carnivore). Carnivores have large livers because livers are used to process proteins and for uric acid cycle. Since carnivores consume lots of protein, they need a large liver.

His stomach is in the center! I didn't explain on my previous post why I placed it there, but it actually makes a lot of sense. The center of an equilateral triangle is its "mass center", so if an animal looks like a triangle, it would make a lot of sense that its stomach would be there, so that the extra mass from the meal wouldn't tilt its balance.

I also got right that his intestines are in his lowest segment and his brain in the topmost.

WHAT I GOT WRONG:

The entire reproductive system. It's MUCH freakier than expected!

Bill has ears! They are on the sides of his head. They aren't really ears, just tympanal membranes. They are located where Brett is trying his darndest XD

The hat is probably not a part of Bill's body. He used it as storage for extra organs during Weirdmageddon, Holy Moses on a Motorbike! However, if it IS a part of his body, then it could be used as fat storage.

He has 20 lashes. I would have never guessed. They could still be used to sample scent, a lot of animals have scent sampling tentacles.

His feet! He probably has velcro-like structure on them, like geckos. This could mean that Bill could glue himself to walls and walk on them if he wanted to. Little insect motherfucker.

He has a singular anus! And it's between his legs. Do with that information what you want.

AAAAND UPDATES!

I can finally show you Bill's entire digestive system! I couldn't do that in my original post, since I couldn't figure out what would go after the small intestine. Alex Hirsch has cleared that up for me and also, I think Bill uses some form of Malpighian tubules-like structures for urine excretion.

And, now... The reproductive system. AKA, the fun zone and creative juices.

NSFW!

Bill Cipher is a fucking freak, but maybe that isn't entirely his fault. It's in the genes of Euclydeans as species. (His love for BDSM isn't though. "He's got it all figured out", as Ford said.)

So, in case you don't know what a vagina dentata is, it was like an occult belief that women can grow teeth out of their vaginas. Bill Cipher's genitals look like a fucking vagina dentata. So that's why he thinks that teeth are hot - they grow out of his reproductive system.

Now, those aren't really teeth. They look like sharp-edged fleshy protrusions that Euclydeans probably use to tighten the grip during mating. It could probably be used for stimulation as well. That's why Bill doesn't like his sides being touched - the genitals are inside, but rubbing them feels violating.

Euclydeans are most likely one of those species who use pain to sexually stimulate their partners. It's not that uncommon on Earth either (don't look up reptile hemipenes, especially not turtles) and for creatures that are covered in smooth exoskeleton, some piercing action would be highly beneficial for transferring seminal fluid.

This also gives us the option of Bill Cipher being a biological female, who has a vagina with those weird teeth-like protrusions. However, it is entirely possible that males also have similar genitals. Bill calls his thing that's dripping "creative juice", so maybe it is seminal fluid? In either case, it's very freaky, but it fits him so well.

This also means that male Euclydeans most likely don't have a real copulatory organ, or, maybe, they do, but the female has to "bite it off" during mating to absorb the sperm. If they don't have the copulatory organ, they do it like birds, with just pumping, but unlike birds, they hold onto each other's thing with flesh teeth.

I am going to hell for making this art, but you are going with me for seeing it:

It also occurred to me that, since I believe Euclydeans use their bricks to produce sound... they would probably be loud. Fanfic authors, you know what to do.

@mitsu-the-witch you requested this, now live with it. I am going to burn my degree.

#i am going to hell and dragging all of you with me #speculative biology #bill cipher #the book of bill #stanford pines #gravity falls #billford #fan art #what biology studies do to a mf #kids get biology majors if you want to write smut fanfics with weird aliens #long post

517 notes · View notes

smooti · 4 months ago

Text

Thing that I’d been feeling inklings of but that got a lot more evidence for in this ep: Milchick truly thinks he can internally reform Lumon. He thinks maybe we can still have severed workers, but we give them visits and hall passes and lots of perks. Gets rid of the outright torture. And he thinks that makes him not Cobel. Not evil.

But being severed is having a life only and solely defined by your work. They are prisoners. They never get to leave, until they are effectively killed. And no amount of nice treatment or outdoor excursions or new perks changes that. It’s the pronouns in the bio of their universe - a gesture that’s nice but ultimately does nothing to help the current material situation. Milchick can pin all the bad on Cobel and her methods, not on the system itself. He can lie to himself that because he’s kinder, he’s better, and isn’t holding people against their will.

But I think he’s slowly realizing there is no internal reform at Lumon, because if the prisoners realize they’re people, they stop being good little workers. And if they’re seen as people, it opens up ethical questions Lumon doesn’t want to deal with. I think having the most interaction with the severed employees means he’s aware that they are fully human people, and so he has to decide if he’s ok with humans being treated this way, or if he isn’t, and if he isn’t, well. Then he has to confront himself and everything he has done. And that is a hard, hard thing to do, especially when your job and belief system are tied to believing the lie.

#severance #I cannot believe how anticapitalist a show on Apple has been #severance spoilers #seth milchick

260 notes · View notes

yourislandgirl · 2 months ago

Text

*:ꔫ:*ₓₒ LEMON DROP LIPS ˚ ༘♡ੈ✩ || 리키 x fem!reader || drabble

— KISS ME, DON’T SAY NO series

summary: enlisting the help of your boyfriend, you had a goal of completing your biology assignment well in advance, wanting to get back in your teachers good graces, and thanks to riki’s support, the task didn’t feel so impossible, a little sour for sure, but manageable

genres: fluff, romance, non-idol!riki x non-idol!reader, est. relationship

warnings: ni-ki is referred to as "riki", attempts at humour, swearing/cursing, brat boyfriend rikimura, standard high school student stress (i think i write stressed academics a bit too often . oh well)

wc: 2.8k

[archive]

“Why would you subject yourself to biology?”

You shrugged at the question.

But it was an assignment from that very class that had both you and your boyfriend at your local park hunting for flowers. The afternoon sunlight was slowly dipping lower and a gentle breeze swayed amongst the grass around your ankles. After carefully closing the lid of your lip balm and tucking it into your jacket pocket, you crouched down beside your boyfriend and took your biology question booklet out of his hands.

“Because,” you started, “I needed a science subject to close out my timetable and Miss Hwang said that bio had more visual learning and there were more hands-on experiments that we could do, so— Wait, why am I even explaining this to you? Dig!”

You nudged Riki with your shoulder, ignoring his groans as you flipped through the question booklet, making sure you’d found the right flower specimen.

Dissecting flora and delving into the horticulture topic was fascinating but equally a challenge. At the start, it included a lot of labelling and diagrams, and then it became more fun when your teacher brought in the bouquets — you and your friends got side tracked in class and started researching the language of flowers.

Riki had even started to take an interest when you talked about your lessons, sitting in the art room with him while he sketched.

Presently, as you pulled your phone out to take down a few notes, you smiled at the little doodle he did of carnation flowers that you’d placed in your phone case.

“They mean love, or something,” he’d muttered as he handed the sketch to you.

“Or something,” you’d muttered back before kissing him on the cheek.

more under cut !!

You shook your head, smiling at the memory while you closed your notes app and opened the camera instead. “Alright, here, take this.” Handing the phone to Riki, you chose to do the actual extraction yourself.

You grabbed the base of the stem and started to tug at it gently. Maybe a little too gently.

The seconds passed by and the stem moved just under a centimetre before Riki finally lost his patience and sighed a little. “Just pluck it.”

You shot him a small, harmless glare to which he replied with his tongue poking out but he remained in place ready to snap the photo.

“Riki, I need the root system as well.”

His expression soured. “I hate your teacher.”

“She hates you too. Go write a diss track about it later.”

You heard him chuckle quietly, your cheeks heating up at the sound.

It took you a few moments to brace yourself through it but eventually, you pulled out the flower, roots and all, and held in your hands as if it was a delicate angels feather. The sigh of relief that left your lips was nothing compared to the groan from Riki when he stood up after finally taking the photo.

“Ugh, my ankles are killing me.” He rolled his head back and clicked the joints in his neck and shoulders while he talked.

You felt a little bad for him but you needed the help. And in all honesty, Riki took better photos than you. The angle, the lighting, it all looked better when he was holding the camera. You used to think there was some secret to it but you quickly came to realise he just had an eye for beauty and composition that no one else had.

You loved the photo, immediately emailing it to yourself so you’d have it on your laptop. When you turned your gaze back up at Riki, he was resting his hands behind his head, eyes drooping a little.

You smirked. “Aw is Shnookums tired?” Reaching forward, your tried to poke his cheek before he gently swatted you away.

Your smile only grew at the sight of how Riki pinched the bridge of his nose, it seemed the memory of such a flattering childhood nicknames was an unwelcome one. “Stop, that was one time.” As he turned to walk further into the park, you could almost hear Riki chuckle as you hurried to catch up to him.

“I don’t know Shnookie,” your voice was torturously teasing, “The home videos your sister showed me say a different story.”

“God the next time I see her…”

Laughter blossomed out of you. Reaching for his hand, you continued to explore the local park’s flora and compare it to the required specimens needed for your biology class.

You’d carefully bagged each flower in a zip lock and handed them to Riki to slide into a folder before placing it in your backpack. Your little system of discovery, extraction, documentation and storage was going well, and you’d just about finished the list with only three remaining specimens left.

“Ok, I say we wrap it up for the day.” Riki got up from his crouched position for the seventh time in the afternoon, stretching every joint carefully, waiting for you to get up as well. Your jacket was slung over his shoulder like a towel, his own makeshift neck pillow.

“Uh…” You remained huddled on the grass, fingers flipping through the biology booklet.

“Y/N?” You looked up, seeing Riki’s expectant gaze, his hand outstretched ready to help you up. “Let’s go, I can walk you home.”

“I think I’m gonna stay a little longer. I can get my mum to pick me up, don’t worry.”

Asking Riki not to worry was like asking him to immediately start panicking, because both resulted in the same outcome. His eyebrows would furrow, his shoulder would tense up, his only goal would be to understand why and what he could do to help.

“I don’t understand,” he reached for your hand, pulling you up with ease, wanting to speak to you at eye level, or, somewhat-eye-level. “This isn’t due until after the weekend. You’ve got time to do this, you can take a break for now. Right?”

You gripped the booklet in your other hand a little tighter.

“Y/N, hey, it’s ok to take a break.”

You puffed out a breath, blowing some stray hairs off your cheeks. “I know that,” you mused. “I just need to do this now. I think… It could make Miss Hwang happy, that’s all.”

Riki’s frown turned from concern to judgement so fast, you’d miss the transition if you blinked. “Ok, what? Who gives a fuck what she thinks?”

“My parents, my report card, my scholarship applications, my—”

“I get it.”

He subtly reached for your wrist, his fingers gentle as they slide down your palm and interlocked with yours.

The silence was anticipatory. The kind where you could feel his questions churning inside by the way his thumb tapped against the back of your hand. It was the kind of silence where you felt his gaze on you a few times as if waiting for you to break the quiet and initiate some conversation.

Riki liked having answer, that much you knew. But you also knew that he’d never force them out of you.

Maybe that’s why it was easier to talk to him more than anyone else.

“Miss Hwang held me and a few others back in class last week.”

Riki slowed down his pace a little, frowning as he recollected the past week. “Hang on, you said you had extra bio work to do.”

“I did,” you shrugged. “I was doing it while she held me back. I, um…”

The hesitation on your face made Riki frown a little deeper, his lips pouting just enough to alleviate your mood that littlest bit. He really did not like that woman, and for what it was worth, that amused you deeply.

Enough to admit the reason with a shy smirk, “She may have seen me texting you while my friends and I did buzzfeed quizzes.”

He scoffed, his head tipping back with a sigh, the mental image of you, his high achieving girlfriend, wasting class time? “Buzzfeed? Really?”

Your eyes lit up with a simmering annoyance that you’d been harbouring for days. “We finished the class work! She was being so petty!”

“She is petty.”

You sighed, “She’s not horrible. Just, I don’t know, strict?”

Shrugging, Riki led you to a park bench to take a seat. “Lovingly, don’t care. Not a fan.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you leaned back onto the cool wood of the park bench, “I need to make her a fan of me again. I really don’t want to lose the favour of a teacher like her ya know?”

Riki merely gave you a blank expression before conceding, “Yeah, ‘kay.”

Wordlessly, he pulled your jacket off his shoulders and dropped it on your lap before taking the biology booklet out of your hands. He started flipping through.

You raised an eyebrow at his actions but quickly became distracted by the sheer concentration on his face.

It was the same face he wore when making sure he had every material needed before painting. Or when he was making sure he’d followed the rule of thirds during a preliminary canvas sketch. He had a precision to his perspective that you could not find in another person.

He only further proved your point by putting an arm over your shoulder and bringing you closer so that you could read along with him. He muttered under his breath about how many samples you’d collected, how many double ups you’d found, the general locations and other areas you could try in the park before it got too dark.

“You want to finish this by the end of the week right? Submit it early?” He didn’t wait for an answer before getting off the bench, taking you with him, his hand holding yours once again. “I’d say we’ve got fifteen more minutes before the street lights turn on.”

He turned to face you again. “We might have to come back tomorrow, babe. I’m sorry.” Pressing a soft kiss on your temple, Riki pulled his phone out to text his sister, asking her to come pick you both up. When he looked back up, Riki halted at the sight of your smile.

“You’re not upset?”

“What?” You hadn’t realised you’d been smiling. Shaking your head to compose yourself, you breathed out a nervous laugh, “Right. No, I’m not. I just… Thank you.”

You smiled wider at his confusion, spurring him to smile back, no less confused than before. At that moment the weight of Miss Hwang’s expectations didn’t matter. Your drive to please her regulated into a drive to please yourself.

As you slowly pulled Riki back to the park bench to sit next you, the simmering urge to submit early started to dissipate. Of course you knew it would come back again tomorrow morning, and you were prepared for that. But maybe Riki had a point, you could afford to take a break.

You’d made excellent progress, and with his help tomorrow, you’d have this assignment completed well before the due date, exactly as planned.

The street lights started to flicker to life, burning their midnight oil, unlike you, who’d chosen to preserve yours.

“You okay?” Riki’s voice was low, lower than a whisper. He still wore an expression of confusion but it had morphed into intrigue, enchantment — he didn’t need to know why you thanked him, he just needed to make sure whatever he did, he’d keep doing it.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you whispered back. “I guess sometimes it hits different, knowing that I’ve got people in my corner, rooting for me and doing whatever they can to help me succeed. Even if the prize isn’t anything special.”

Riki smirked, “In your own words, an A+ is better than a winning lottery ticket.” He pulled you closer once again, the feeling of his arm draped over your shoulder was a welcomed comfort, a familiar warmth.

Even his teasing was welcomed; “That is a foul sentiment, by the way. Who taught you something so illogical? Let me at ‘em.”

You giggled at his dramatics. “I was being sarcastic.”

“I should hope so.”

Riki’s thumb drew small circles into your shoulder, his head dropping down to rest on top of yours. “Seriously, though. You don’t need to thank me for this. Of course I’d help you.”

Your cheeks felt like they were in bloom, lip quirking up as you spoke. “Even though you hate Miss Hwang?”

“Especially because I hate Miss Hwang,” he scoffed, sitting up a little to face you, the glint in his eyes like a fire cracker just looking for trouble.

“Think about it,” he started, “What better way is there to get back at that witch?” He pulled your biology booklet out once more, flipping through the pages speedily, as if to show just how much you’d completed in one afternoon.

“She’s gonna have to give you the top mark, and her knowing that you’re my girl just makes it better.”

You gasped, mockingly. “You petty little—”

“Listen sweets, if there’s anyone that I want succeeding, it’s you.” His arm found its place over your shoulder once more, this time pulling you into the warmth between his collar and neck.

“My support shouldn’t be a shock, it’s a given,” he said, softly.

You breathed in his scent, a little musky coupled with the slight smell of acrylic paint. Pursing your lips, biting back another smile, you turned to gaze up at him.

He glanced down. “What?”

You hummed a noncommittal tone, “You just look very kissable right now.”

It was amusing to witness, the way Riki’s gentle expression morphed into a boyish grin. “Well not to brag but, I fear I just wake up looking kissable.”

“Mhm.”

He nodded, “Honestly, go ahead, feel how kissable my lips are.” Just to prove his point, he puckered them up for you dramatically.

Nudging him in the ribs lightly, you leaned away in faux disgust. “Shut up.”

“Oh come on,” he grabbed your wrist, “I even used your lip balm.”

Your smile dropped, brows furrowing instantly.

Riki halted, verbally backpedaling “Wait, I mean—”

“You used my limited edition lemon drop lip balm?!”

“…No?”

You hands patted frantically against your jacket that was rested on your lap, feeling each of the pockets and finding no small plastic tube of citrusy softness.

Your gaze locked with your boyfriend’s, who’d already gotten off the bench and started walking away hastily.

“Riki!” You followed after him, both of you speeding into a jog, then a run, then a sprint.

Riki’s deep laughter resounded the local park, every other passerby with a dog or on a walk had turned to look at the scene that bolted past them.

You groaned, feeling yourself slowing down. “Stop running!”

“Stop chasing!” He yelled over his shoulder, turning slightly to see your speed reduce, causing him to do the same.

He kept a decent distance from you, hands up in surrender. Well, one hand open. The other was in a fist, his large palm could have been hiding anything but you had an inkling to what was inside.

“Got it right here,” he declared, smugly. Your beloved lip balm.

You stalked closer, before lunging forward to reach his hand. A failed attempt, of course. as he simply lifted it higher. “When did you even take it? Give it back!”

Your hands went to his ribs, aiming to tickle him into submission but he quickly dodged you, circling around, his free hand on your shoulder to hold you at arms length.

“Give me a kiss first!” His eyes were alight, sparked with love, cloaked with mischief.

You shook your head, your own grin was involuntary at that point. “Riki, I swear—”

“Nope.” He leaned forward, his empty hand snaking around your waist and pulling you closer. “My name’s not Riki, it’s Shnookums. Now hold still and you’ll get your lip balm.”

You fidgeted out of his grip, determined to hold off on kissing him until you got your limited edition. “Fine.” Your hand was held out, palm open for the trade.

Riki unfurled his fist, an empty hand grasped yours and pulled you into him, his own lips locking onto yours.

Any semblance of stubborn determination was immediately dissolved against the taste of lemon meringue and citrusy zest that met your tongue.

The flavour faltered your thoughts, leaving you a blinking, blushing mess as Riki pulled away.

“Is that enough lip balm for you?” He shoved his hands in his pockets, taking a couple steps back.

You jutted your lip out, deep in pretend-thought. “I might need more, funnily enough.”

You giggled at his expression. “Hilarious.”

a.n: FINAL INSTALMENT OF THE KISS ME, DON'T SAY NO SERIES IS HERE AHHHHH — i hope you all enjoyed the ride and i've got so many more drafts just itching to be posted but anyway, thank yoouuuu xx <3

taglist: @oceanstide — @sheepsgf — @itsrinsdrs — @enjakey — @rynnest

2025 © yourislandgirl

124 notes · View notes

jayaury · 8 months ago

Text

Trip to the Stars

Another older story now available for free! And plenty more on you know where: https://www.patreon.com/c/JayAury

“I don’t care how much those damn squids are offering! Their world is a fucking sewer, and I’ll be the one deciding where the cruise heads to. And if they don’t like it, then they can stick themselves in airlock and blow it out the void!”

Devon Logan touched his ear, killing the frequency and shifting to the next one as he swept through the dark steel admin hall of the Stellar Fete. He shrugged his shoulders, the microfibers of his suit shifting smoothly over his body like a second skin. He really disliked the thing, but the future hereditary manager of Logan Cruises had to look the part, and he did at that. Dozens of juvenative treatments, bio tinkering and nanomachines had perfected him to his role as heir to the pleasure barge’s long line of directors. He wasn’t just born for the role, but molded to it.

He swept a hand through his pale hair, blowing out a sigh as he stepped into the elevator, the door sliding shut and shooting him up into the guts of the ship, towards the sacred heart of the director’s offices. Stars but it was exhausting managing the business. Especially as they were getting closer to launch. A dozen generations had built the Stellar Fete into the sector’s premier vacation yacht. The future leaders of worlds, megacorps, and systems enjoyed its services when they needed a break from the turmoil of their work. But that meant he never got one. He groaned, cracking his neck.

He needed a drink or a stim. Maybe both.

The elevator beeped as it hit his office floor, the curving door sliding open with a hiss. “Julianne!” he said as he marched towards his office. “Hold all calls. I have some personal business to take care of.”

“Of course, sir.”

Devon was halfway into his office when that voice actually registered. Midstride he stopped, walked backwards, and stared at the woman in his secretary’s chair.

Last time he checked, it had been occupied by a slim young woman in a skin-tight bodysuit whose short hair failed to hide her large eyes and the access implants in her neck.

Now, however, it was occupied by a woman as curvy as one of the finest pleasure bimbos from the gene cutters. Her green breasts were huge, cradled in a tight band of red cloth. Another swept between her legs, hiding the treasure that lay between. A perfect hourglass of womanly curves, her hair was bright red and cascaded over her shoulders like the molten surface of a dwarf star. Her eyes were deep, dark, and her smile pretty and radiating a sweetness that made his cock tingle in the tight confines of his pants.

“Julianne?” he said skeptically. Had his secretary gone to the gene modders in the last few turns?

“Afraid not, sir,” the woman said, her voice carrying a thrumming purr that seemed to shoot straight into his animal brain and ache in his crotch. “My name is Amoora, your new secretary.”

“What happened to my old one?” he said.

“She had an unfortunate accident, sir.”

“Accident?”

“Owing the Drax such a large sum of money tends to invite them. The Stellar Fete’s system acted quickly to replace her, given how close you were coming to launch day.”

“... Uh huh. And it hired you?” Devon said.

“I was considered the best match for your current needs, director.”

Devon didn’t doubt that. How could he? The ship’s AI system had guided the last four generations of directors from cradle to the grave. If the system said that Amoora would make his best assistant, then he had to assume it knew what it was doing.

Still…

There was something about the whole situation that sat strangely with him. Some niggling suspicion. It certainly didn’t involve Amoora herself. She was exactly his type, which was possibly why the system had hired her on.

“Alright,” he said slowly. “Well, no calls.”

“Of course, sir.”

With a lingering look on her, he slipped into his office, the door sliding shut in his wake with a magnetic hum. He exhaled heavily and made his way across the large barren room, taking a seat behind the black plasteel desk that dominated the center. As soon as he sat down the system came alive, screens projecting above his desk in glowing blue blocks, the walls swirling in soft violets as it projected images of the Stellar Fete from every angle.

“System?” he said. “Did you hire Amoora?”

“Confirmed, sir,” the AI said, voice flat and even. “It was determined the most efficient course of action given current circumstances.”

Ah, of course. It would be thinking of that. Devon rubbed his chin with thought. “What sort of alien is she?”

“A mooma, sir.”

“Mooma?” He frowned. “Never heard of them.”

“They are an uncommon species, director.”

That he could believe. He’d seen hundreds of thousands of alien species over the cycles, but even those were a mere fraction of sentient aliens in the galaxy.

Yet there was something about her that made him uneasy. What that was eluded him, but he still felt it keenly. An almost animal instinct not of danger, but of something else.

He drummed his fingers on the desk. “System?”

“Director?”

“Send in… Amoora,” he said. He considered himself an appropriately wary person, and though he trusted the system to make certain decisions, he was still director, and deciding on who would be personally assisting him was certainly in his purview. And if he didn’t like what he heard, he’d just fire her. There were plenty of others who would be eager to take the job, that much he knew for sure.

“Of course, sir,” the system said.

He killed the program with a sigh and tapped one of the glowing keys in his desk, causing the screens to vanish with a blink. Within moments the door slid open once more and Amoora stepped inside.

He’d thought he’d gotten a good look at her before, but the one he was receiving now only further reinforced what a gorgeous specimen of alien beauty she was. Though her figure had a striking hourglass curve, there was a mature plumpness to her, especially in the chest and hips, further emphasising her almost primal femininity. She struck him with her loveliness, something the meager straps she wore as clothing did nothing to hide, and even seemed at pains to emphasize. Her red hair was long, framing her gorgeous face, soft and sweet with a smile that just seemed to say, ‘I’m going to make it all better.’

“Please,” he said, gesturing at the chair across from him. “Take a seat.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said, sitting delicately across from him, smiling warmly. As she did, Devon caught a whiff of her perfume. Something sweet and floral. Tantalizing and yet, strangely familiar. He took another sniff, trying to figure out what it was.

“Is something the matter, sir?” Amoora said.

“Hm? Oh, no. Nothing. Nothing at all.” He cleared his throat. “You ah-”

“Because you seemed distracted, sir.”

“Hm?”

Amoora smiled again at him. “It must be very stressful, sir, managing this whole ship. A wonderful pleasure cruise, certainly. I’ve heard it highly recommended. It’s only a shame you can’t enjoy its services as well.”

“Well, you know,” he said, both flattered and oddly uncomfortable. “It takes a lot of work to keep this ship running.”

“But you surely consider some relief, don’t you?” she asked gently.

“I have a few ways to relax.”

“Would you like to be shown another?”

“Hm?”

Amoora rose back to her feet and Devon stiffened as she moved around the desk and behind him. He knew he didn’t need to worry. The system would respond instantly if it felt like he was in danger, and no weapons were allowed on board, under threat of jettisoning into space. But he still sucked in a breath as her hands came to rest on his shoulders.

“What are you… you… Ohhhh…”

Devon groaned as her fingers began to flex and knead his shoulders, digging into him in a way that seemed to loosen every tightened, aching muscle.

“Your system did mention you get so awfully stressed, sir,” Amoora said, her voice soft and soothing while her hands did their work. “It mentioned it had been looking to hire someone skilled in that. In helping eeeease all that stress. Help your relaaaax after all your work.”

“D-did it…” Devon managed to say as Amoora’s hands did their slow, methodical work.

“Oh yes. You have such a loyal system, Devon. It makes me so happy to know how much you need me. You work so very hard. You deserve to relax a bit. To feel good. To feel better. To feel eeeeasy.”

Devon was feeling relaxed. Easy. Like a great burden were evaporating from his shoulders. He sank slowly into the chair, groaning, his head coming to rest against something soft. Something that certainly wasn’t the back of his chair. He opened his eyes and found himself tilted back, Amoora’s face hovering over his, smiling. Which meant it was her soft breasts which were currently cushioning his head.

Devon felt a slow flush rise to his face. “I-”

“I do hope you’re enjoying my work, director,” Amoora said sweetly as her hands again resumed their work on his shoulders. “And I would just like you to know that if you need anything… anything at all, I’d be delighted to care for you. Provide you with what you need. Like a massage. Like a big… soft… needy body for you to fuck…”

“You…”

“Aren’t you horny, sir?” she cooed, her lidded eyes bright as she gazed down at him. Pretty as galaxies. Swirling softly. “Would you like me to… help you relax… further?”

Devon inhaled deeply, taking in a great lungful of the alien’s pleasant perfume, the warmth of her massage oozing through him wonderfully. He was so very relaxed. And he surely did feel uncomfortable in only one way, owing to how his pants constricted his cock. “Hmm… Well, if you’re offering…”

“Of course,” Amoora said, stepping around him, her breasts wobbling as she lowered herself to her knees before him, eyes twinkling teasingly up at him. “I must obey my employer. It is only natural to ensure he is satisfied with my… service…”

She gave a wink, and her fingers undid the front of his pants. Devon groaned as his cock sprang free, throbbing with desire for the shapely green woman. Amoora’s eyes brightened even further at the sight, her smile deepening adoringly. “Oh sir,” she breathed, wrapping her hand around his root. “Such an impressive specimen.”

Devon chuckled. “How could it not be?” he said. “I’ve been designed to be… mmm… peak of human physical prowess.”

“And it shows, sir,” Amoora said, moaning softly as her tongue ran up along his underside, making him gasp and groan. “Mmmm. Such a powerful man, sir. It truly is an honour to… serve you…”

Devon was rapidly coming to the same conclusion. It really was a wonderful thing to have such a skilled pair of hands helping him out. Not even the whores on the pleasure deck could match the touch of the goddess currently kneeling between his legs.

“May I take you in my mouth, sir?” Amoora said just before her tongue made another loving lap up his cock. “I would be… ever so grateful…”

“Yeah. Sure. That sounds… sounds good,” he gasped.

“My thanks, master,” Amoora said, tilted his shaft towards her open mouth, and took him deep.

“F-fuuuuucking staaaaaars!” Devon groaned as her lips sank down. Devon knew he had a big cock. He’d been designed with one. Yet Amoora took it with ease, swallowing him to the hilt and beginning to adoringly bob.

“Fuck!” Devon gasped, grasping her head, her red hair soft beneath his hand as he pushed her down on his cock, fucking her mouth with growing urgency. “Fuck! Yes. Just like that. Fucking take my cock. Oh stars. Oh staaaaars that’s gooood!”

“Mmmmm,” Amoora moaned, the sound vibrating through his manhood as she bobbed even faster. Even harder. His cock squeezed in the warm vice of her lips, mouth and throat. Devon had long prided himself on his iron self-control, but that couldn’t save him from the suction of the mooma’s mouth.

“Fuuuuuuck!” Devon groaned, shuddering as he came, balls tightening as he unloaded great bursts of his pearly seed into Amoora’s mouth.

The mooma hummed, her eyes lidded as she gently suckled on his cock, her throat working as she swallowed every drop of his load. As Devon sank into his chair, panting, Amoora’s lips dragged off his shaft, popping free only for her tongue to tease around her plump lips lovingly, her lashes fluttering as if she were on the brink of sharing in his orgasm.

“Mmm. Thank you, sir,” she said with a smile. “Are you satisfied with my… service?”

“Huh?” Devon said, stirring from his rapture. “Oh. Yeah. Yes. I… I am…”

“Excellent. Then, I will be outside sir,” she said, rising, her plump breasts wobbling in her impossibly tight top and stirring Devon’s cock once more. “Please, do call me if you need anything else.”

Devon watched her turn, hips swinging as she strode back out the door, which closed with a hydraulic hiss behind her. Devon sighed, sinking back into his chair, amazed not only at her, but himself. He could normally fuck almost a dozen women before feeling so sated, but he wasn’t even sure he could get up from his chair after that blowjob.

But he wasn’t worried.

Oh no.

His body was designed to adapt to any and all circumstances. Before a week was out, he knew, he would be able to fuck that beautiful mooma into a puddle of moaning lust.

Yeah.

But… later.

For now, he was feeling more relaxed than he had in years and years. With a sigh he eased back into his seat, breathing in the air thick with Amoora’s perfume.

Maybe this secretary business wouldn’t be so bad after all…

Devon made it a point to make his way through the ship when they were preparing to begin another cruise. It did well for the crew to see him taking a personal interest in preparations. It ensured they kept in mind that the ship didn’t merely run in the void, but that there was someone at the head commanding them.

That said, he still hadn’t decided on which planet to make the destination of the next cruise. It was a bit of a conundrum for sure, but he knew he’d come across one soon enough. He always did. And the aid of his new secretary was surely making it easier.

Speaking of…

“Do you have those world maps for me yet?” he asked as they strolled through the cavernous gallery overlooking a shipboard theatre. He glanced over the rail, watching a number of drones hum around the seats, cleaning them with mechanical precision.

“Of course, sir,” Amoora said, passing him a data slate as they stepped into the tight confines of a waiting elevator.

He took the slate, rolling his shoulders as he felt the sleeves of his suit slide down his arms. Odd. It wasn’t fitting him as tightly as it used to. He’d have to get maintenance to take a look at that.

He was still looking through the files when the elevator hissed, doors sliding open and revealing that they were on the recreation deck. Devon paid little attention as he moved onto the floor, followed closely by Amoora. He was vaguely aware of the great windows that looked out onto open space, the view magnificent, even if the refueling station currently took up a fair bit of it, along with the innumerable shuttles zipping between it and open space.

“Hmm…” Devon mused, a flick of the finger paging through the brochures of hundreds of resort worlds. “No. No. Not too good. I think that one had a civil war. Pirates in that sector… Wait,” he said, stopping in the middle of the pool room, whose walls shimmered with the glowlamps under the water, reflecting a purple and blue veined with the white of waves. Devon squinted at the tropical beaches on the screen of his slate. “What’s this one?”

Amoora leaned over his shoulder, which gave him another whiff of her sweet, floral perfume. “Oh, that’s Mandina, sir.”

“Mandina?” he said. “I’ve never heard of that one. It’s not on our usual list.”

“No, sir,” Amoora said, tapping the screen, which proved distracting as her impressive, soft breasts squished against his back. “It’s a relatively unknown resort world, but very popular among moomas.”

“It is?” Devon said.

“Yes, sir. Which is likely why you’ve never heard of it. Moomas are very… private about our recreation worlds. Many slavers would delight in paying us a visit.”

Devon glanced from a pic of egg-shaped habs scattered about blooming jungles, his eyes taking in Amoora’s figure once more. “I… imagine so,” he said, then shook his head, clearing his throat. “Well,” he said, returning his attention to the screen, walking on. “It’s unusual, and we only visit worlds I’ve personally vetted, so it’s unlikely we’ll choose it.”

“Considering it is already quite generous, sir,” Amoora said.

Devon felt his skin tingle with her praise. “Yes, well… it’s very unlikely still,” he said as they passed from the pool room and into the gymnasium where a number of the resident fitness trainers were in the midst of practice.

“Good cycle, sir,” one of the fitness instructors said.

“Hello,” he said, nodding absently, then stopped and looked in surprise. For a moment he thought that Amoora had wandered past him, but no. Looking closer, he quickly made out a number of differences in the stunning green woman standing not far. As gorgeously curvy as Amoora, this mooma however had a smaller nose and was slightly shorter than his secretary.

“You are…” he began.

“A new hire, captain,” Amoora said, nodding at the other mooma. “This is Majaala.”

“New? But-”

“She comes highly recommended, sir, and will surely be a welcome addition to attend your guests.”

“I aim to please,” Majaala said, dipping in a bow, her breasts bouncing with the motion.

Devon stared at her, for a moment too shocked to formulate any words. He… he personally examined every new hire’s file before they were brought on. How had he missed that? Had he forgotten?

Who had hired her?

He suddenly looked sharply at Amoora, who smiled sweetly. A sudden suspicion rose in his mind, but he couldn’t make a scene here. It wouldn’t look good to make it seem like he wasn’t in control.

“I need to speak to you. Now,” he said.

“Of course, sir. There’s an empty room over this way.”

“Good. Great,” Devon said impatiently, following her.

She led him into an adjoining room, where massage tables sat in rows and tanning beds were propped up along the walls like missile pods waiting to fire. A soothing darkness radiated from a number of large dark lamps, in whose glow Amoora seemed almost radiant in her green skin and lush red hair.

Devon faced the mooma with a scowl as the doors sealed shut behind them “Now look-”

“Are you upset, sir?”

“Of course I’m upset! How was she hired? Who did it?”

“Why, I did, of course,” she said with a puzzled look. “Why are you mad, sir? Didn’t I do a good job?”

“That’s not the point!”

“Isn’t it?”

She suddenly took a step forward. Devon blinked, retreating in surprise, only for the back of his legs to hit a massage bench. He fell back to sit on the padded seat as Amoora moved in closer, her wobbling breasts eye level, her perfume hitting him in another waft of sweetness.

“I only wanted to serve you better, sir,” Amoora said, pouting, her soft red lips pushed out.

“You-”

“I know how very stressed you are, sir,” Amoora said, her hand coming up, brushing his cheek. Devon felt a shiver race through him, like a spark of electric delight. “I know how hard you work for this ship. How much you give to it. How much it weighs on you. I just wanted to take some of the pressure off. Was that wrong of me, sir?”

“I ah…”

“Is that not something a good assistant should do?” she asked.

Devon breathed in, gasping as her scent seemed to fill him. A floral and sweet medley that rushed into his limbs and head like a stimulant shot, making him float as if the gravity drive had broken. He tried to hold onto his anger, knowing if he let his authority slip it would be near impossible to get it back. But… well… it was hard to get mad at her. He could see how she might have thought she was helping him. And she was still so new to the job. Some errors were to be expected, he supposed.

“Well… I suppose you were trying to help,” he said slowly.

“Of course, sir,” Amoora said, her face smoothing into a happy smile. A look that made his heartbeat quicken and tension unknot in his stomach. “I’m only here to serve you. To serve such an impressive man. To help him any way I can.

“Such as finding the most capable girls to staff your ship,” she added, pushing in closer, her breasts practically in his face, her hands planting themselves on the bench beside him, trapping him with her body. “Because I know your time is far too valuable to waste vetting a bunch of silly bimbos coming to work on the Stellar Fete. Your mind is always occupied with much more… important things.”

“O-oh,” Devon breathed, eyes riveted to the perfect green orbs bound up in her top. “That ah… I mean, that’s true, of course.”

“Of course it is, sir. And you did hire me, sir. So why shouldn’t I know the specifics of what you’re looking for? It’s really a testament to your own brilliance, Devon, that I felt sure I could take that task on. All for you. My brilliant, handsome, strong director...”

She… she had a point, Devon had to admit. After all, if she felt confident assuming what his orders would be, wasn’t that just testament to how right he had been in hiring her? And the other mooma was clearly a good fit for the ship. If she was half as good at massage as Amoora, then there wasn’t any real reason to protest. Certainly, he doubted the guests would.

“Yeah,” Devon said, starting to smile as he watched Amoora’s immense breasts rise and fall. Rise and fall with her slow, heavy breathing... “Yeah. That… that’s true. Yeah,” he repeated, breathing deeply of her wonderful perfume. “Yeah…”

“You know, Devon,” Amoora said, leaning in closer, her breasts wobbling mere inches from his face, his breathing growing heavy. Shallow. “I find a man who takes charge so… deeply attractive. Moomas all do. A man who knows what he wants. Who’ll do what he needs to. Who’ll be such a… good boy…”

“Yeah…” Devon breathed. Then blinked. “W-wait. Did you say a-”

“A translation approximation, Devon,” Amoora said easily as she straddled his lap, her soft body pressing down on him, her breasts practically smothering him. “Not entirely accurate, but the mooma term is quite loaded. Much like you. Oh sir,” she groaned, her hips rocking, grinding herself on his bulge, making Devon groan. “I can feel how pent up you are. You mustn’t do that, sir. It might inhibit your decision making, being so horny. So backed up with your virile… hot… cum. We must take care of that, mustn’t we?”

Well, Devon had no objections to that! “Sure,” he said, grinning as he reached up, cupping the immense globes of her breasts, his fingers finding the catch of the strap. “Let’s… let’s do that…”

Amoora moaned as the strap clicked, fairly popping free, her immense breasts wobbling into the open, practically slapping his face with their glorious heft. He leaned in at once, lifting them up, smothering himself with her immense breasts contentedly.

“Mmmm,” Amoora moaned. “Oh sir, you do love a big pair of breasts, don’t you?”

Devon certainly wasn’t going to deny that. Especially a pair as gorgeously big and soft as Amoora’s. They fairly overflowed from his hands, soft as marshmallows. His cock throbbed in the prison of his pants, straining to be free and taste the gorgeous green alien astride him, still rubbing herself against his throbbing manhood.

“Oh Devon…” Amoora moaned as he fondled her tits. “Devon, I need you. I want you. Devon… Let me fuck you. I need you…”

“Y-yes,” Devon gasped, his head spinning and body throbbing with the surging desire racing through his veins. As he felt her hips cock, her hands slide the strap that served as her panties down. “Yes. F-fuck you. Gotta… ah…”

He felt her hands on his loose clothes, stroking him, stripping him. The fabric automatically separated around his chest, peeling off to reveal his toned abdominals. He groaned as the seam split around his pants, his cock fairly springing upwards, only to be ground under the groove of Amoora’s pussy as she rocked forward.

“Ohhhhhh!” Amoora moaned, a sound that seemed to vibrate in the hollow spaces of Devon’s body. “Oh Devon. I can feel it. Feel how horny you are. Oh sir, it must be so… so hard to think when you’re… ah… when you’re s-so haaaard. Please. Oh please, sir. Let me… let me relieve you. Let me free you… ha… of that b-burden…”

Devon had no doubt that she was referring to the burden of his arousal. What else could it be? And it was a burden. His balls ached with his need. His head throbbed and body burned with every rapid beat of his heart. He was so horny. So desperate to cum.

“A-Amoora,” he gasped from between her breasts. “I… I need…”

“I know, sweet thing,” Amoora said, arms moving around him, pulling his head deeper into the valley of her breasts. “I know. And I’m going to give you everything you need. Oh Devon… I’m ready. Ready for you. Ah,” she gasped, her body rising, lifting off his lap, allowing his cock to spring up to throbbing attention before her hips fell, sheathing him inside her pussy.

And into heaven.

“Oh f-fuuuuuuc!” Devon moaned as she planted herself atop his cock.

“Oh stars yessss!” Amoora moaned, her hips rising, falling, fucking herself greedily atop his cock, her breasts bouncing around his face, smothering him in her titflesh and the sweet, suffocating perfume she wore. “Yes. Yesss! Oh Devon. Yes! Give me your cock. Fuck me. Cum in me. Cum in Amoora! My good boy. My good… ha… horny booooy!”

She cried out, hilting atop him, quivering with moaning lust, and as she did, Devon felt the sudden tightness of orgasm within him. His cock plowing up into her hungry pussy, his hands squeezing her ample tits.

“Yes! Yes! Oh f-fucking stars yesssss!” Devon cried, the sudden euphoria of release rushing through him, his cock twitching as he unloaded into the mooma’s wonderful pussy. Bucks of his hips drained him into the gorgeous alien, riding high on his orgasm. At last, he groaned, falling back onto the bench, panting hard and fast, feeling drained, light, as if the oxygen being pumped into the room had been sharply reduced.

He stared up at Amoora as the mooma leaned over him, her lovely red lips smiling as her hand stroked his chin. “Did you enjoy that, director?” she asked sweetly.

“Y-yes,” he gasped, feeling drained, yet pleasantly so. “V-very.”

“I’m so glad, sir. I did so want to make sure you knew you could trust me with… anything. Do you, sir? Do you trust me like a good boy should?”

Those words again. He felt a shiver, but not of distaste. For some reason, being called a good boy by Amoora was oddly… good. It felt right. Well, maybe it was a touch degrading, but if it was a crude translation of a term of affection, he supposed he cold tolerate it. Especially if good boys got such affection from a mooma.

Oh yes. He shivered in delight, his cock stirring anew. Yes. He’d very much like to have more of that.

Amoora felt him stiffen and smiled. “Oh director,” she said, stretching atop him, pressing her heavy breasts into his chest, her face hovering over his. “Is my good boy still horny?”

“Maybe a… a little,” he admitted with what he hoped was a cocky grin.

Amoora giggled, her eyes warm and smile comforting as if she were wrapping him in wooly clouds. “Mmm. How wonderful. I do love a man who can keep going. But don’t worry, director,” she said, leaning in closer. “Amoora is going to make sure you’re nice… and satisfied…”

Her lips descended on his, and Devon groaned, feeling his cock thicken and harden once more, her hips beginning to rise and fall, fucking him beneath her anew.

It was starting to look like hiring Amoora might have been the smartest thing he’d ever done…

Preparation to travel proceeded swiftly once Amoora took a large hand in organizing the Stellar Fete. Devon still insisted on touring the ship, but he was less and less surprised by the number of moomas which were filling up the vessel. It seemed like they were in every department, even in the ones which didn’t require their personal touch. But the remaining human and alien crew didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, they seemed to delight in the presence of the busty green aliens. He’d walked in on more than one crewman in a dark corridor, wrapped in the arms of a gorgeous mooma, moaning as his mouth was plundered in a kiss, or his lips adored huge, bouncy green breasts.

But Devon didn’t have much time for wandering these days. It tired him, and he had a hard time finding clothes that fit him. For some reason his body seemed to have grown sleeker. Slenderer. He wondered what that meant? He’d certainly been getting plenty of exercise. Amoora seemed inexhaustible in her affections, always ready to fuck him, suck him off, or do anything he needed. Honestly, it seemed like he hadn’t managed to check the system in weeks. If he wasn’t being fucked by the gorgeous mooma, he was busy recovering from their almost constant liaisons.

“Director?”

Devon stirred from his musings, swiveling in his chair towards his desk. The neon glow of the holo screens hummed before him, the AI’s voice droning in the air.

“Yes?” he said.

“I require confirmation of our destination.”

“Our destination?” he said, then shook himself, a sudden shot of adrenaline panic racing through him. “Fuck! I… I completely forget. System? Bring up the potential locations. I need to-”

“I do not understand, director. The location has been determined. I merely require confirmation.”

Devon stared, uncomprehending, at the screen. “Wh… what? Show me.”

A screen expanded before him, revealing a familiar scene. Egg-shaped habs on a tropical landscape, the gorgeous sea and a sprawling alien jungle of greens, violets, and reds in a sweeping blur of hues.

“Mandina?” he said blankly.

“Yes, sir. Your office has selected it. I only require your final confirmation and we can begin preparing to take on passengers.”

“But… I never… I didn’t…”

Understanding hit him like the shock of decompression. His eyes snapped to the door of his office and he jabbed the intercom.

“Amoora!”

“Yes, director?”

“Get in here!”

The door slid open and Amoora stepped inside, a loving smile on her face. “Yes, sir?” she said softly.

Devon opened his mouth, but even as he did he found his eyes wandering over her figure. The rage that had flared within him faded as if smothered under a heavy blanket. In its place, a tingling ached through him, his cock instantly rock hard for the gorgeous mooma as she stood, smiling politely in the doorway, all curves and willing loveliness.

“You wanted to see me?” Amoora said.

Devon jolted back to the present. “Y-yes. Yes. I did,” he said more sternly. “I ah… Look, did you…”

He trailed off as Amoora moved into the room, her wide hips swaying like a pendulum with her steps, her breasts wobbling in her tight, tight top in such a way that arrested the eye. Her presence seemed to fill the room. Devour his view. “Yes, Devon?” she said, coming around the desk. He heard a click and suddenly, the strap of her bra was floating down, leaving free her immense breasts to wobble tantalizingly into view. “What did I do?”

“You… you… L-look,” he said, trying to sound forceful. “Did you register this… this place as our destination?”

Amoora lazily glanced over at the hovering screen. Her smile widened. “Oh yes, Devon. I did. I just know it’s going to be such a big hit.”

“Amoora, that wasn’t your decision! It’s mine to make. Where we go. Where the ship goes. That’s the job of the director! The job I was born to do! You can’t just… I mean...”

“Of course it is, Devon,” Amoora said, leaning in suddenly close. “I would never think of overruling you.”

Devon leaned back, pressed into his chair. Yet even as he did, an equally powerful yearning surged through him, begging him to move forward. To bury his face in the gorgeous orbs of her immense breasts. To nuzzle and kiss them like a good boy.

A good boy…

Devon grit his teeth, trying to resist the aching lethargy that nearly made him swoon as soon as he inhaled her perfume. Fuck, he was so hard. His cock was shamelessly bulging in his loose uniform. “Amoora, I-”

“And I think you’d love to go to Mandina, Devon,” she said smoothly, moving forward. “I’m sure you and all the sexy, rich, powerful young heirs looking for a nice relaxing vacation would just adore visiting a planet just… filled with lonely moomas, needing to spoil and fuck and adore cute, adorable, obedient humans.”

“I… I…”

“Just like you do,” Amoora said, planting her hands on the back of his chair, arching her body, pressing her bouncy breasts nearly into his face. “I bet you’d just… love to visit my world. Just adore to relax on the beach with your pretty assistant. Your gorgeous, caring mooma mistress. It would be so nice to relax, Devon. So nice to just… stop… thinking…”

“S-stop?” Devon said, his voice slurring a little, his body feeling light again, as if ready to float up into Amoora’s gorgeous body.

“Yes,” Amoora breathed, leaning in closer, and Devon groaned in despair and unspeakable pleasure as her breasts pressed against his face, nearly burying him between their pillowy valley, suffocating him in her wonderful perfume. “The director doesn’t need to think. That’s what he hires his secretary to do. That’s why she hired all those lovely mooma to run his ship for him. He doesn’t need to worry himself about all those stressful things when relaxing is so much easier. So much better. So much more… pleasurable…”

Devon moaned, the wonderful weakness spreading further through him. Consuming him in a wave of pink bliss as Amoora straddled him on his chair, rubbing her pussy against his bulge.

“Do you want that, Devon?” Amoora said, giving her chest a bounce, jiggling her tits around his face. “Do you want me to make you so very happy? So very easy? Just say yes, Devon. And I’ll take care of everything. You’ll never need to work again. Never need to worry. You’ll be such a good boy. A good stud. All you have to do is let me fuck you. Pleasure you. Adore you. All you have to do is give in, Devon. Just let mistress do all the thinking for you. You’ll still be director. You’ll still be the boss. You’ll just do everything I say. Won’t that be so much easier? So much better?

“Say yes, Devon,” Amoora moaned, her body pressing down on him, her curves so soft, so warm, so glorious. “Say that’s what you want.”

It was.

It was so clearly what he wanted.

Every fiber cried out to be hers. To agree. To do anything Amoora wanted and more. And would it really be so bad? Wouldn’t it be so good to give in? To submit? To know only pleasure?

Some part of Devon railed against the idea, but he could come up with no counter arguments to her. He did want all she suggested. He did yearn to be hers. Her obedient boy. Her horny stud. Why shouldn’t he say yes?

There was no reason to say no.

And so, Devon moaned, “Yessss!”

Amoora smiled, eased back, releasing his gasping face from the depths of her breasts. “Good boy,” she purred.

Devon sighed, sinking back into his seat, a smile hovering on his lips as if all the tension, all the doubts floated from him. Drained away with that desperate moan of admission. He felt her hand on his, pulling him to his feet. The door at the back of the room hissed open, admitting him to his state room, his private sanctuary.

A low glow permeated the interior, washing the walls in purples, oranges and reds like galaxies burning their way around them. Amoora eased him down onto the bedding, her fingers trailing down his suit, the loose fabric opening easily.

“Undress, Devon,” she breathed, barely visible in the dark lights.

Devon did so, shrugging out of his suit, letting her pull it off him, revealing his toned, slender physique. Amoora cooed, leaning over him, kissing her way down his chest, every press of her lips making his breath hitch.

“Devon. So handsome,” she breathed. “So sexy. So perfect for mistress. I knew you would be. I knew you wanted this.”

“Ah!” Devon gasped as her lips reached his cock. Amoora’s eyes glowed softly in the gloom, her red lips seeming to glisten and shine as she kissed her way up his shaft, her hands hefting her immense breasts and wrapping them around his cock. Devon was far from small, yet her breasts were so big his manhood was utterly swallowed in them.

“Oh fuuuuuuck!” Devon groaned as Amoora bounced her breasts around him, squeezing his cock in that sweet valley of pleasure.

“Is it good, Devon?” Amoora whispered, her voice seeming to echo in the air. “Are mistress’s big breasts so good and soft around your cock?”

“Yes. Oh s-stars yessss!” Devon cried.

“And isn’t it so worth it?” she cooed, leaning down, her lips kissing the head of his cock whenever it emerged, sending shocks of glorious pleasure surging through him. “Isn’t this so worth giving up all that silly thinking? All those useless decisions? Isn’t it so much easier to just be my good boy? My obedient bimbo? My handsome, wonderful, horny boy?”

“Yes!” Devon gasped. “Yes! S-so good! Mistress… Oh stars mistress!”

“There it is,” Amoora cooed. “You called me mistress. I knew you would, my sweet boy. Now, give mistress that wonderful cum.”

Her breasts squeezed his cock, and as the tip emerged her lips wrapped around it. The sudden sensation of warm tightness was too much for him to bear, and Devon let out a needy moan of pure pleasure, clutching the sheets as he thrust up into her mouth, moaning in ecstasy as he came, his cock throbbing, pulsing, unloading into Amoora’s hungry mouth. The lovely mooma moaned, her lashes fluttering as she drank the bursts of his seed with a gusto that only made Devon feel hotter than before.

Her lips slid off his cock along with her breasts, and Devon wasn’t surprised to see he was still hard. His nanobots had been quick to react to the frequency of his orgasms, and keeping erect was no problem for him now.

“Mmm,” Amooa purred. “That was wonderful, Devon. But a good boy deserves far more reward for what you’ve done,” she said, climbing onto the bed, straddling him, looming above him like some fertility goddess of a savage world. Divine. Beautiful. Worthy of his obedient worship. “Do you want it, Devon?”

“More than… than anything,” he gasped, and the truth in those words put a smile on his face.

“Then confirm our destination,” Amoora breathed. “Agree to go to Mandina. Agree, and let’s bring all your friends with us. Let us show them how much they’ll love a mooma world.”

Devon shivered in understanding. Many of the highest corporate families used his pleasure line for vacation. The sons and daughters of the wealthiest and most powerful people in the sector. All of them offered up to a ship staffed with moomas. A world filled with the seductive aliens.

With barely a thought a screen blinked into being beside him, hovering above the rumpled sheets. The DNA reader glowed like a red disc in the air as he lifted a shaking hand and pressed a thumb to it.

There was a beep, a flash of green, and the screen faded away.

“Confirmed destination,” the system’s voice chimed around them. “Thank you, director.”

“There we are. What a good boy I have,” Amoora cooed as she lazily sheathed him within her. “What a… mmmm… a gooooood boy.”

Devon groaned as her pussy swallowed his cock. He grabbed her hips as if to anchor himself to reality as waves of otherworldly pleasure washed over him. As Amoora rode him, her breasts bouncing on her chest, almost hypnotic in their sway.

“Yessss!” Devon moaned, sinking into the pleasure of the moment. Of her body. Relishing every stroke of her glorious pussy on his cock. “Yesss! Mistress! Love… love mistress! Want you! Want you! Please… ah. Mistress. Oh fuck. Fuck! Mistresssss!”

His body was perfectly attuned to hers. To her pussy. It took no time at all for him to cum again. Again. Again. A seemingly endless parade of pleasured peaks as colours swirled about the room in hypnotic tailings of lights. He felt as if he were floating. Floating on a sea of unconscious pleasure. Above depths of pleasure. And now he was sinking.

Sinking.

Deep into wonderful, heady submission.

At last he sagged beneath her, breathing hard, head as empty as his balls, finally spent. Finally done.

Amoora hummed sweetly, rising, unsheathing him from her pussy. She stepped off the bed, and at once Devon found himself staring at her gorgeous rump. Amoora spared a look over her shoulder, gave him a teasing smile.

“Be back soon, Devon,” she said. “I need to make some final preparations for our departure. You just relax. Get some strength back. I have a lot in mind for rewarding my good boy.”

Devon’s body tingled. “Yes… yes, mistress,” he breathed.

Amoora laughed softly, blew him a kiss and turned, departing the bedroom. Devon sighed, sagging limply on the bed, staring at the ceiling as the colours swirled and danced.

The future looked very bright for him indeed.

#brainwashing #mind control #mindless #brainless #mind corruption #hypnosis #hypnotized #brain drain #jay aury #gentle fdom #gentle domination #alien goddess #alien girl #ai artwork #short story #mindless toy #fdom

167 notes · View notes

gurggggleburgle · 2 months ago

Text

I think transmale sqh is very funny because you can write it one of three ways + 8 million layers nuance and nonsense

1) holy shit Amab body transmigration. Its not my preferred specs and I would have liked to be taller but hot dog I have weenis, no tits, and depending on circumstances and genetics maybe even grow half mustache before giving up entirely. Now if only the world I was put in wasn't so shit then maybe I could actually enjoy it for a change instead of screaming into the void and begging for people not to kill me. I'm socially male now in every capacity but I'm still having to cry pathetically just so I can be taken seriously and it's not fair man! Can't people just actually respect me, I thought I'd become less pathetic once I got on T not more

2) I transmigrated into my own shitty novel with a cast that I didn't even headcannon anyone as trans as and I still have to get on hormones. Do we even have testosterone? For fucks sake if I have to invent my own hrt because there isn't some bullshit artifacts laying around to fix this I'm gonna scream. Wdym I'm being OOC for not being bio male! System you're the one who put me in here and didn't even do it correctly!!! This isn't fair. I'm literally god and I have to pay to get my tits removed because right now they're as big as my king's!

3) hey system thanks for the amab body but I actually wanted to keep the downstairs plumbing. What am I supposed to do with this? I mean it's great just I kinda wanted an innie not an outy. Hmm I mean I guess I can try topping.

Secret 4th thing) cis male sqh transmigrates looks at himself in the mirror sees afab shit. Looks at system in confusion before asking, 'like are you trying to tell me something because if so it's a weird way to tell me' and then just proceeds to do hrt and it's just another one of the wtfisms he's learned ti live with

I lied here's the 5th) wakes up in ABO from a not ABO universe and sighs because mannnnn gender was hard enough where there were only like what 8 and half answers he was considering. Did you have to double it with all this other bs? Am I just trans masc or am trans alpha? Like what is this? I don't even remember this being an ABO in the OG draft?????

6) was actually afab writing this pretending to be a guy woke up as SQH in a dude bod and kinda just decided to roll with it and hasn't put the braincells together to realize there's a cracked egg on his plate. Cucumber bro asks him one day why he knows so much about girl shit and tampons because he had sister so it makes sense and Airplane just goes oh wait didn't I tell you? I was a girl before coming here and that sets Shen Qingqiu off because he's like you wrote misogynistic male fantasy drivel and you don't even have the excuse of never having spoken to a girl!!!!!!!!! And airplane is just like 'it's called market pandering and women also hate women too bro.'

Honestly the possibilities are endless and very funny because no matter what the gender euphoria/dysphoria/everything else is always outweighed by the deep burning hatred of paperwork

#svsss #svsss shitpost #scumbag system #scum villain #scum villain self saving system #sqh #shang qinghua

77 notes · View notes

roiswit · 2 months ago

Text

Au where instead of being reborn as Shang Qinghua Airplane is reborn as the systems bio son through a serious of innocuous events.

The system had a lot of time on its hands, considering there would be a lot of time before either Shang Qinghua or Luo Binghe were gonna be born so he decides to set out on a journey. He creates himself a human body with a (VERY) strong cultivation system/core, one that’s also decently pretty, and a false name of He Xitong (on the nose Ik). After he does that he goes on exploring and building a minor fame and a nice life, when he accidentally bumps into a young woman who is clearly trying to dress in noticeably nicer clothes. After they bump into each other she introduces herself as Shang Zhong, a prostitute who had some free time on her hands. They end up chatting and having quite a good time with her going back to her pavilion and He Xitong coming back to visit her decently regularly. Eventually they end up sleeping together and she finds out she’s pregnant after He Xitong said he’d be gone for a year or more before he could visit again. She chooses to give birth and dies because technically the kid is only half human and as a non-cultivator she can’t handle it . Anyways the other prostitutes don’t really know who the father is and name the boy (Airplane) Shang Hua and kinda just give him the bare necessities not to die, planning to either keep him and raise him to be a prostitute or tossing him out if he appears too ugly.

Anyway after a couple months of Shang Hua mentally grumbling about his situation He Xitong shows back up and asks about Shang Zhong just to find out she died and left a baby. He Xitong is like fuck, because he now realizes he messed up the original Shang Qinghua’s parents meeting and is now the father of him. He also realizes that this is clearly Airplane reborn so he takes the kid, (paying the pavilion for taking care of his kid and the mother of his child), visits Shang Zhong’s grave to apologize for not being there and kinda killing her, pays his respects, and then leaves to try and figure out what to do about the state of his plot. He realizes very quickly he doesn’t want to abandon his kid, or make him face the plot and so he has to find someone else to take the Original Shang Qinghuas role.

Luckily a certain Shen Yuan just so happens to die, cursing PIDW and so the system essentially creates a new character that’s Shen Jiu’s twin brother to take that role. He Xitong finds a cabin and starts living out his peaceful life with his kid, while acting as Shen Yuans system to keep the plot moving along while trying to keep Shang Hua unaware. Shenanigans ensue as you can imagine.

I might come back and write the more about this, although this was a little longer than originally intended. Anyways have a nice night!

I just realized something I forgot to mention is that Shang Hua is riddled with trauma from his first life as Airplane which is another reason why He Xitong ends up dead set of giving him a good life.

Lowkey I’m starting to really want to write a fic about this 🤨

#mxtx svsss #svsss #shang qinghua #shen yuan #shen jiu #svsss au #svsss system #airplane shooting towards the sky #peerless cucumber

75 notes · View notes

sergeant-angels-trashcan · 9 months ago

Note

Bestie I NEED to hear your thoughts about Harley and Bruce possibly being secret twins 👀👀👀👀👀

Been thinking about this for WEEKS i fear!!!! This came right as 'rona dragged me down I'm sorry this took so long!!!

I don't know or care about how secret twins happens, what happens in the bedroom of Thomas and Martha and Alfred Pennywayne is NONE of my business unless they invite me which is fine btw

since they're fraternal twins they COULD TECHNICALLY have different dads. am I saying Alfred is Harley's bio dad perhaps and the clown is going to have empty space where his head used to be but I digress. This explains SO MUCH I feel but also we should in no way think that the parents know this. They don't know nor care because THAT IS THEIR BABIESSS. it would probably be Bruce and Harley finding out when they're forty or something because someone needs a kidney. They purposefully forget the information. They don't need it.

And as insufferable as Thomas is with Baby Brucie can you IMAGINE how AWFUL he would be as a Girl Dad tm. I am thinking of your "if you detain one you detain both I KNOW MY RIGHTS" post but with two children!!. Also Thomas would be THEEE cattiest mfer amongst the other dance moms. My god Alfred and Martha would never know peace. Also a million zillion pictures of each parent konked out while holding 2 sleeping toddlers, THINK on it I beseech thee it's so cute. (But then, Thomas accidentally saving/kidnapping Harley from the park and Bruce and Harley INSISTING they are identical twins. Everyone is like no you really aren't until Thomas gives them the most murderous look known to man over their tiny heads. VERY funny when Jason and Cass also do this)

Maybe Harley was very very sickly as a baby and they kept her a secret to keep the press away. I can see family not talking about Martha's pregnancy AT ALL particularly if it was high risk in any way like she would be visibly pregnant due any day and someone would ask her if she was excited about the baby and she would deadass say 'what baby'.

The ideal scenario the Pennywaynes have for their offspring is that they keep the bambini hidden. as far as the press knows one day 18 year olds pop up outside the Wayne Manor as fully formed scions to the empire. You've never heard of them before? GOOD. That was the point.

Also the DRAMA, the ANGST, I think this makes sense with Bruce's weird dynamic with the Joker (though this could work with just siblings ig)?

Bruce doesn't want to kill the person his twin loves because it would hurt his twin, who HE loves. And killing the Joker could result in Harley hating him! Bruce trying so hard to be supportive for Harley and just be there for her so when she finally decides to leave the Joker she knows Bruce has her back.

Bruce knowing all the stuff about what support systems do that helps and hurts victims of intimate partner violence so he's always playing this balancing act of what he feels like he can say/do about him before it affects Harley. And it being his self given job to stop the Joker from doing HIS self given job. If he helps Gotham he hurts Harley. If he tries to help Harley, he hurts Gotham (does very interesting things to the brainworms when thinking about Jason's murder! about why Bruce feels like he can't or shouldn't go after the Joker--because he's proven he will kill a child and use their mother to get them, that is not a man above using his partner to hurt his nemesis!!! and that would be a whole thing for Bruce, he doesn't act because he's genuinely terrified, worried that if he fails he'll lose harley too

idk if the Joker would know about Harley and Bruce being related or Bruce being Batman but I could see this being the turning point for how Harley views the Joker. Like, she'd been going over to the Manor to help Jason talk through his feelings every month for years. Would it have mattered if the Joker knew he was her nephew?)

Also makes the weird sexual tension Bats has with the Joker even weirder if he IS aware of their relationship. He'd be so gross about it. Yes the Joker wants the Wayne twins. He flirts with them in front of the other to piss them off, mostly Harley. Would highkey lie and say Bruce was flirting with him to drive a wedge between Bruce and Harley oh my god I went such a not fun direction with this

Identical twins could be very funny if they were separated at birth no i do not know why they would be separated just roll with me. the one that does not transition is like "why do you have a picture of me as a kid this is creepy what do you mean that's you' . Everyone at college is like ha ha you two look like you could be related! You do the same icky face when you eat pineapple. They dOn'T sEe iT

Maybe she was kidnapped (by like a very young deathstroke or something idk) and SOMEhow Oswald Cobblepot winds up with this feral toddler in his possession. A goon made a terrible life choice perhaps? And Ozzie is just an up and coming crime lord, still settling into the family business, how tf is he supposed to know the Waynes are missing THIS child? if he knew don't you think he'd be extorting people??? I think they could have some very fun and adorable Stacker Pentecost and Mako Mori vibes this man has NO idea how to raise a child but by god!! He will do it right!!! Literally nobody knows about her, he would have people killed for suspecting her existence.

But also take your daughter to work day??!? Harley yelling at incompetent goons in a sweet baby voice. Ozzie is SO PROUD of her, he wouldn't have minded her going into the family business but she's going to be a doctor!! He is just a proud papa!!! Fearsome crime lord The Penguin with sparkle pink nail polish and bows stuck to his head having a tea party with Lil Harley.

I think this is ALSO interesting with the Joker!! I would love if the only reason his dumb ass wasn't taken out the moment he stepped foot in Gotham was because he's Harley's Boyfriend. The only thing stopping the rogues from turning on him is that Harley likes him!! Is he the Gotham version of a crypto-finance bro?

What if it's an older Harley who is kidnapped? Like post Thomas and Martha shooting. It's part of what cements Bruce's notoriety as the Last Wayne. (Everyone asks if he can sense her through their Twin Bond and he gets sooooo mad that's not a real thing!!!! He feels so guilty because if that was a real thing, shouldn't he be able to find her? Shouldn't he know????)

Cut to Batman and Joker in a showdown and there is Harley and Bats CAN'T STOP STARING?!??? why does she seem so familiar? The Joker notices of course and starts saying some very crass things but the IMPORTANT part is that at some point Harley mentions not minding beating up on Batman because she once had a baby brother who was terrified of bats, so she's doing this for him!!! And Bruce is like wait I once had an older sister and I'M afraid of bats?!?!

Harley looks at him REALLY HARD and all of the sudden she's screaming "BABY B????" and roundhouse kicking the Joker into some metal oil drums. NOBODY beats up her baby brother!!!!

The rogues go fucking insane

(the age thing. Harley is technically a day older than Bruce. She was born at 11:50 PM and he was born at 12:05 AM. They make older sibling/younger sibling jokes all the time and think they are very funny. The Batkids would disagree)

#bruce wayne #batman #harley quinn #harleen quinzel #dc brainrot #asks answered #bruciemilf #obsessed with harley being the only reason the joker doesn't get killed all the time #like he was already doing his crime thing but it wasn't until he met harley that he really started gaining traction in gotham

158 notes · View notes

alexanderlightweight · 2 months ago

Note

The way experiment baby alec rotates in my brain.... the possibilities.....

Hell hound alec,, mermaid alec, cannibal alec..... maybe some dnd bloodhunter type shit... damn

@queensaryn and I actually have a really fucked up idea/headcanon that I haven't worked on yet but that Robert Lightwood is actually sterile and when Valentine helps them with a 'special fertility treatment' but he really just does IVF with his own sperm.

So like, he does not have Maryse's consent and she doesn't know that Alec or Izzy are his and they only find out something is wrong when she and robert try to have another kid and go to the doctors of Idris who are like 'oh no this guys sterile' and maryse is like 'what injury did that' and they're 'oh no. we can tell by his system that he's always been sterile.' and then maryse has to have her kids run through the database because whose are they? like at this point Maryse's is just relieved they're fully shadowhunter with what she remembers hearing about Jonathon later. (who she thinks is dead and doesn't bring up).

They find out the they're Valentine's and the Clave basically is like 'wait... if you didn't know. what if he did this to other people?' and DNA check all kids born during the time Valentine was active (even before he started the circle) just to be safe. it's how they discover Jace is a herondale and that some other fucky shit has happened.

but also Alec on learning who his bio-sperm is immediately does a ritual that basically is destroying his own sire's legacy. like he creates a blood-oath that is basically he will kill Valentine on site.

the clave is all: okay with the evidence before us we don't know that Valentine is dead anymore. so if you see him try to capture him.

Alec: if I see him i'll try to remember to bring you a piece of his corpse. i'm a mama's boy even if she's not the best mom and he violated her consent and I am going to take it out of his hide. he is not my father.

the clave unable to argue since legally he's allowed to do this: ... well at least we don't have to worry about another uprising?

the clave: surely valentine's children won't be downworlders extremists as well? is this something we need to worry about?

Izzy growing up with Alec teaching her to hate everything Circle because it hurt their mom and fucked them over: screw shadowhunter politics. i'm going to live my best life and fuck a bunch of downworlders until my name becomes synonymous with a good time in the downworld. ha! take that Valentine. hows the legacy the kids you made created? is this what you wanted???

Everyone in the Clave: thank Raziel that Alec Trueblood is slightly more normal than his sister and just wants to tear apart his father and is known for killing and sometimes eating other nephilim (aka circle members).

Alec coming out as a consort to a Dominion King: excuse me. I may only fuck ONE downworlder but I do so in style. and I have the best taste.

Magnus and Alec bonding over hating their fathers and their father's hurting their mothers.

Magnus to Valentine: yes I am fucking your oldest. what are you going to do about it. nothing because he wants to kill you

but also experiment!Alec is amazing in so many different contexts and I really do enjoy using it because the timeline fits and it makes sense. I doubt Valentine experimented first on his own kid and while maryse wouldn't have been willing, Valentine knows how to lie very convincing. she wouldn't know they were anything but normal medical checks.

so it does make sense that Alec could have been experimented on and its very fun to play with the different things he could be or become.

especially if Alec develops them over time and its a steep learning curve.

thank you for dropping by the asks! this is very fun to talk about

<3 lumine

*mermaid Alec where alec haunts lake lynn until Magnus is called in. mermaid Alec where Magnus is lured to the beach on the waves of a sad song of yearning

i could go so many places

#lumine talks to ppl #lumine answers asks #lumines meta abyss

54 notes · View notes

huicitawrites · 2 years ago

Text

The Hunt

Yandere! Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Spider! Reader

tw: yandere (slow-burn(?)), dark-fic, violence, assault, spoilers for across the spider-verse.

word count: 6,1 k

status: in revision

Prev chapter

taglist: @zeniiin @aikoiya @caramelcandescence @adamsloverboy @slowlymax @reapersimps @jenniferdixon05207 @superduckmilkshake @ceeesxy-blog @wotterblue

Part II

“Stay still and let me squash you like the spider you are!"

"I think I'll pass on that one, thanks" you retorted as you moved out of yet another attack which could have pierced through you. You were jumping around, feet and arms in sync as you balanced your body to dodge the snapping metal claws.

The flow of your body conveyed an effortless image, but the fight was far from over. As hard as it was to admit, you were having a tough time figuring it out.

"Be wary of those, (Y/n)"

"Yep"

The foe before you was good at maintaining his distance and using the range of the metal limbs to his advantage. The claws snapped any web you shot at him and easily dodged and covered from your attacks as well. This metal exoskeleton he had was really bothering you- whereas you were used to the fleshy feeling of the mutant tentacles of the mad bio-engineering scientist you knew, this self-proclaimed Otto Octavius’ tentacles were purely made of metal. And it was quite metal, because your fist hurt like hell when you came into contact with it despite your super-strength. In addition, the metal exoskeleton was purely coordinated with his movements. They were calculated and clean, unlike the brash and wild nature of 'your' Doc Ock. [Thank God this copycat came in with a discount, it would have been worse if you had to deal with eight metal octopi-limbs.]

In the battle's agitation, something odd occurred. Just when you thought it could not get any weirder, his frame shook violently, and he fell to the ground in a flash of strange colors and shapes. His voice quivered, his shout of pain came out distorted and chopped.

"What the-? Peter, is he...?"

"Glitching?” he said with doubt, “but how..." immediately, he began to tap away on the keyboard.

You did not want to waste your time observing the phenomenon, instead deeming this man dangerous, you took the opportunity to confine him in your webs. The webs surrounded his torso and tied extra-tight around the metal limbs.

The glitching stopped and you neared him.

"So… Otto Octavius, right? Mind telling me more about Spider-Man?" You asked, but there was no answer. His head was hanging, and his shoulders were too lax, he seemed unconscious.

"Um, sir?" You closed the distance between you and touched him briefly. "Sir? Other Dock Ock?" You continued, and just as you were about to check if he was breathing, something cool clamped down on your wrist.

Immediately you redirected your sight and saw a metal claw on your wrist, it was viciously gripping you. Then you heard laughing, making you turn your attention at a now perfectly conscious man with scraps of web around him on the floor.

"Ah, shit". In cue with the curse that left your lips, you were thrown at full force against the building. Your head impacted first and your body slumped to the ground, a loud ringing sounded off in your ears, and your sight turned terribly foggy.

You groaned in pain and attempted to get up, but the metal limb got to you first and lifted you off the ground once more. It pulled you near as you thrashed. To escape from the vice grip, you focused the muscles of your arm and began to open apart the metal claw. The metal screeched and folded, yet your efforts dwindled when another claw came at you.

This time, it wrapped itself around your throat, cutting the airflow into your system. He hoisted you up to admire your writhing form.

"I just love killing spiders," he grinned wickedly, "after this, Peter Parker is next".

The mention of your friend sent the adrenaline in your body rushing and your heart strained against your chest. Your body was urging you to move, muscles tightening to contract and exert force- but your eyes began to fail you. Your vision slowly turned opaque due to the lack of oxygen.

A final metal claw appeared, and you vaguely made out a glimmering edge at the center of it- a sharp blade.

"Die."

You heard the words laced with venom and your friend frankly calling out to you, his voice drowned by the fading consciousness of your body. Was this the end? Is this the way it all ends?

'C'mon girl, keep it up!'

Just when the point-end of the blade was about to pierce you, an orange glow painted the scene. An engine roared— the blade never came.

You were dropped on the ground unceremoniously when the vice grip let go of you. Lips parted for a large gasp for that sweet, sweet air. Still, its sudden intrusion made you cough, and as your back shook furiously you felt a soothing sensation on it. Somebody was rubbing your back.

"You alright?" Another masculine voice, but this time, it was friendly and caring. There were no traces of animosity in it.

Even before your sight could clear, your spider-sense was running. It was running even more wild than before, and when you opened your eyes to see your savior, you were left astonished.

Your spider-sense tingled and evened out, synchronizing up with another spider-sense.

This man was just like you.

The web-patterned mask, his lenses, the arachnid symbol on his chest. It was all too familiar.

"You...are me?"

"No, and yes. I mean, no, I am not you, but I am like you." He hoisted you up by the elbow and put you on your feet. "Anyway, explanations later, now we have to deal with this guy and put him back in his dimension."

"In his dimension? What-"

"Explanations later", a female voice interrupted and reiterated. You glanced at the direction of the voice and your spider-sense picked up the same feeling.

It was a woman with big, dense curly hair, in a stylish leather tracksuit with a matching headband, and she rode on a motorcycle. She did not wear a mask, revealing part of her brown skin, but she had large, yellow-tinted sunglasses in a shape and proportion you knew all too well.

The woman flashed you a sweet smile, showing her gapped-pearly whites.

"Now, let's kick ass" and she roared the engine once more and rode straight at Octavius. She crashed the vehicle into him, pushing him back, and stood up on it. As she balanced her weight forwards on the vehicle, she reached out her hand- five web strings much like your own sprouted from the pads of her fingers. She brought the villain flush against the tire of the running motorbike, and he clutched his face in pain. The man who patted you followed suit, and he too shot web, although out from his wrist, and launched himself against him. He delivered a couple of blows, punches, and kicks, as he used his 'web-shooter' -you guessed- to propel back and forth.

You just stood there, eyes wide and lenses as big as round plates.

"Peter, are you seeing this?"

"Yes, and I'm already coming up with some theories" you heard the fast-clicking sound of a keypad going on. "I can't have anything for sure and it's not like I can track back to any tabs on these guys... The best thing I can produce is for you to stick around and find out, but do not lower your guard"

"I guess so" you said, simply taking in and accepting what was going on as you took speed and jumped, your legs pulling back and your arms stretching at a sharp angle behind your back.

Your body flew, and you looked down to see Octavius struggling to stand up as the two new heroes faced him.

Octavius stood up on all metal fours and he growled in rage, "Spider-Man!" his sights now focused on the blue and red hero.

"You might want to look behind you, Doc"

The smirk of the lady on the motorcycle and the cheekiness of the disguised man said it all. The dark silhouette of a shadow cast upon him was growing bigger, and Doc Ock turned his head.

Your wrists extended and web shot from both. The silk rope attached itself to the upper shoulders of the metal limbs and you grasped the webs to pull yourself. With the help of force and acceleration, you delivered a powerful kick on the man’s back.

Your attack was not meaningless, for your aim was set on the bright spot at the top near his nape. The power source, the connection of the exoskeleton with Octavius’ nervous system.

A few sparks blew off, signaling your success in delivering the final blow. Well, that, and how the tentacles trembled before collapsing- dropping the mad man on the ground.

“You!” he whipped his head, “You little- “his words were cut short by web sticking on his lips, sealing them shut.

“Not a word more from you, please. I kinda had enough,” you exasperated and slumped your shoulders. Your hand rubbed on your head, a little bit of pain still lingering on the impacted area.

You were about to web him up, this time making sure he would stay put, but the curly-haired woman halted you with her hand. With the other, she slid a disk across the floor which stopped in front of Octavius. Then, laser-like hexagons formed, one by one until the villain was encased fully.

“Oh, well that’s nice. What is that?”

“A portable prison we use to capture anomalies.”

“Anomalies?”

“People that stray from their original dimensions and pose a threat to the cannon.”

“The cannon?” 'Geez, keeping up with this new information is hard'. Amid your confusion, the woman laughed. She was not laughing out in mockery, more like she had found your confusion endearing.

She stretched out her hand for you to shake it, and hesitantly you did.

“I am Jessica Drew, Spider-Woman, Earth-404.”

“And I’m Peter B. Parker, the one and only Spiderman from Earth-616B” The man took off his mask, showing excited eyes and a warm smile as he stretched out his hand. The physical resemblance he had to your best friend was uncanny, well, he was him from another dimension, of course. The brown eyes and hazelnut hair, but he was much taller, certainly older and you could distinguish the outline of worked muscles below his spandex suit.

“(Y/n), this is unbelievable...” but you ignored your friend through the comms as you were just as surprised as him, or even more.

“Spider-Woman, I mean, (Y/n) (L/n), Earth…

“Earth-699” Peter B Parker filled in for you, and you repeated his words, taking them in your mind.

“Wait, wait… So, you are Spider-Women,” you glanced at Peter B. Parker, “Spider…people… sorry, from other dimensions?” you asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, that’s pretty much it,” and Jessica Drew hummed in approval of Peter B’s words.

“And, and you! I know you! Well, I know you in this world. He’s my best friend, and my back-up” the other Peter chuckled.

“Ooh, the classic back-at-the-chair guy?” his eyebrow twitched in curiosity. “Feels like a demotion though…”

“Hey!"

You giggled at his antics, "Trust me, you are very cool in this dimension too. Without him, I would not be Spider-Woman". Your warm smile and noble words caught the brown eyes of Jessica, and for a moment, she stared right at your own not long after her and the other Peter -you will call him Peter. B- shared silent eye contact which spoke volumes between them. Then they both smiled, and Jessica Drew giggled, "This one is yours; I have already recruited a lot. Miguel will bite my head off if I bring in one more"

"Right, right, you just want to make me be the one to ask him"

Confused about what they were talking about and who, you were about to ask them before Peter B spoke first.

"So, we like you- my spider-sense can already tell me you are an amazing hero, (Y/n). Do you want to join us? And the rest of Spiders, a spider-society of our own if you are interested."

People just like you? Your heart began to beat fast with joy and excitement, this, this was amazing. If there is a whole society of other people, of other You's, Peter B's, and Jessica's, with their own hero journeys, spider-suits, spider-abilities, and voices to be heard- you wanted all in.

"I'm in!" you exclaimed, physically jumping at the opportunity. The afro spider-woman hopped back on her motorbike, you saw her fiddle with a bracelet on her wrist, a slick white-metal watch of sorts, and the same orange glow from before emerged. This time, you took a closer look- it was a portal, a hexagonal electric-orange portal made of rings.

Peter B. hopped on behind Jessica, and he looked back behind at you and beckoned you closer with his hand, patting the space left on the leather seat. You smiled wide below the mask and rushed your feet to the vehicle, hopping on.

"You know it's almost two in the morning and we have work tomorrow, right?" Your Peter's voice sounded. You groaned, "Yes, don't wait for me. Also, didn't take my keys so leave the window open please"

"Again? Girl, I-" but Peter heard the roaring of an engine and the sound of screeching tires before the loud beep signaling the end of the intercommunication device and he cursed under his breath. He shut down the three-screen PC and kicked his feet to distance the chair from the desk, drawing a large sigh from his lips. He stood up, revealing his pajama set and house coat, and very fluffy set of Spider-Woman slippers you had gifted him jokingly, [wearing unofficial merch of your vigilante best-friend was weirdly hilarious, but they were too comfortable and soft to pass]. He walked toward the living rooms' window, thank God you two were on the seventh floor, and pulled off the lock.

"One of these days I swear I will lock her out, so she begins taking her goddamn keys", he grunted in between teeth. He dragged the palm of his hand down his features, squeezing down his cheeks and wrinkling them. He glanced at the dreadful hour, led bright numbers making out 1:50 AM.

'As long as I get in bed before two...' Despite the petty annoyance this occurrence caused, he could not help but crack a smile.

He looked out the window and observed the city lights, contemplating the night.

You were incredible to Peter, your best friend. Sometimes he wished NYC were more grateful for the protection your courageous and self-risking services lent. Although he was aware they were out of your heart.

Peter took a long, loud sip of his mug of tea. It was halfway cold. As he drank and emptied the contents of his cup, Peter wondered.

"Who is going to protect you when you are too busy protecting others, (Y/n)", his worrisome thoughts were vocalized. Part of why Peter helped you back to the chair was because of this because he was worried about you. Of course, it felt nice and gratifying to put his own grains of sand in the jar of NYC's safety, protecting citizens and loved ones alike, but deep-down Peter felt powerless.

What if one day someone manages to best you, or you mess with the worst of people? Someone you will not be able to defeat, someone like you? The possibilities, the enemies, could be endless. After what tonight's events revealed the existence stirred something within him, call it his Parker-Sense [turns out there is a Peter Parker who is a Spider-Man as well in another universe- he will have to ask you more about it, tomorrow.].

He placed the cup down on the coffee table beside the heater, casting aside his worries along it. Peter knew he could do nothing but help from back of the front lines- he could only hope the gadgets and suits he designed for you would help you in your quest and help you make it back home every night.

You raised your arms as if you were on the best rollercoaster ride in the world whilst you travelled through the fabric of time and space. It was fast and short, but breathtaking. There was not enough time to process what you had just experienced as you crossed through a flash of light.

As the flash dispersed, you noticed your surroundings. You found yourself inside a big, big building. Although the design was minimalistic, and the color grey was dominating, you made out figures of diverse colors.

Not figures, people.

And not regular people, people like you- spider people.

Hundreds of them, walking, chatting, hanging around. On the floor, on the ceiling, on the walls, all around the unorganized columns that stretched everywhere in every direction.

Your spider-sense had already caught up with the gig, because your mind has surprisingly not fallen apart.

"Welcome to HQ, this is the lobby" Peter B. announced.

A simple 'woah' was all you could muster as your lenses widened. Jessica hopped off her motorbike and stored it in a pocket-size gadget, somehow but it does not surprise you, and she tapped on your wrist. She handed you a purple bracelet, "It's a one-day pass, it allows you to stay here without glitching. You may have seen it happen to that stray Doc Ock".

‘So, he was glitching, huh.’

You hung the bracelet around your wrist and secured it tight, you guessed glitching was not very comfortable and you did not really want to find out for yourself. Once you put it on, she smiled and turned on her heels, gesturing to you with her head to follow her.

"We got to go girl, can't keep Miguel waiting."

"Miguel?" you enquired.

"Miguel O' Hara" Peter B answered for her as he began to walk beside you "the man behind this society. This-", he twirled around and raised his hands in contemplation as the three of you walked, "-was all his idea. He is the leader, it's thanks to him that we are all able to protect and maintain every dimension stable".

'Well, he sounds like a cool guy- I should probably meet him if I'm around here, want to make a good first impression’

"He can also come off as intimidating and harsh, but he's got no bite. He just has a little bit of fang to show, no more. So don't be scared or feel intimidated".

'Or not', you gulped.

Something about the sweet tone in Peter B’s voice, like he had given this disclaimer a couple of times before, slightly unsettled you- but you hid your nervousness behind a small chuckle.

As Jessica lead the way, or Jess as she insisted you call her, you 'toured' the facilities- a cafeteria with spider-themed food, a gym fit for training the super-strengthen, a villain-confinement area in which you found yourself mesmerized by the different versions of villains you had faced [which was a slightly awkward experience as you tried to ignore the daggers that were coming out from that Doc Ock's eyes and threatened to destroy the barrier that imprisoned him]. You even got to know of a therapy room, which could always come in handy later, who knows. You must make sure to swing by the cafeteria later and try out that Spider-Burger, and certainly try out the super/human equipment in the training center [it is not your usual friendly-neighborhood gym that has a leg press machine loaded with the weight of a train].

It was crazy- Peter B. and Jess told you everything about this place. They talked about the multiverse, and how everyone is connected through key moments in their lives as 'Spiders' through cannon events- which were more or less significant events that would shape their paths as heroes, some good, some bad, and some very bad- but all of them necessary.

The death of your parents. Although you would never get over it, and the belief that you could have done something if you hadn’t been so powerless at that time was still rooted deep within your heart- but the fact that it was destined to happen as part of your life as Spider-Woman brought you some relief, because you felt as if it was not entirely your fault alone. They were cannon events in your life as Spider-Woman, and nothing was supposed to prevent them.

It was bittersweet- it made you feel understood. Even though you had your own best friend who you could rely on, and you knew you could tell him everything, you also knew he would not understand. There is a great responsibility that comes with this power, and with its burdens, and inner battles that make you feel alone in the struggle, but not anymore.

You are not alone, you are not the one and only Spider-Woman, and that made you feel you could find other people to bare this struggle with.

The 'Spider' Peter continued with the explanation, "-- and that's why anomalies are so dangerous, and we have to deal with them, because they can break the cannon and thus destroy the fabric of the dimension that has been disturbed, and with it, millions of lives."

In cue with the end of his talk, Jess and Peter B. halted their steps. "We're here" she said and pointed with her gaze to move forward. So, you did, you took a step forward.

Your eyes took in the room, it was dark, and the ceiling was tall. There was a platform in the middle of it, and the orange light was abundant. Atop the platform was a man standing, his wide back facing and disheveled strands of hair facing you- he seemed busy, and too concentrated on the dozens of holographic screens surrounding him.

There was a loud silence in the room, until Jess nudged Peter B with her elbow, and he blurted, "Okay, okay, lemme’ just" he adjusted the collar of his suit, as if it were too tight on him. He breathed in, calming down his nerves, which made you more nervous because why would he be?

"Hey! Miguel!" his voice echoed through the room, and he waved eagerly at the man above. It was a slight movement, but you noticed how this 'Miguel' threw his head back and sighed loudly- it was clear that he was annoyed by the interruption.

"Que ganas de molestar... What is it?!" The first part of his sentence was barely audible, but he made sure to raise his voice for the words that came out in English. His body was now facing the three of you, hands rested on his hips, and body weight slumped on his right leg.

From that height, he seemed as if he was looking down on you...

"Give me a minute, (Y/n), you see he looks tough, but he is really easy to crack" Peter B attempted to reassure you, earning a roll of the eyes of Jess which you barely dismissed, and he webbed a corner of the platform and pulled himself up to it.

Peter B's physical gestures were funny and full of movement, while the man remained stiff and stoic. You could not hear the conversation well, they were meters above you, but you guessed they were talking about you--

"C'mon Miguel, she's amazing really, we could use a helping hand and-"

"There's lots of helping hands already"

"Yes, but the more the merrier right? I am serious, you're not going to regret it, I've seen her, and Jess too"

Their talk continued for a few minutes, but then you saw Peter B clinging on to the man's shoulder and you saw him turn his head, mouthing the words 'all right.'

Proving your guess to be true, you saw Peter B smile widely and he walked towards the edge of the platform, "Y/N! Climb up here!" He called out to you and gestured with his hand, and you did just as he did a few minutes ago. Before you could pull yourself, however, Jess tugged lightly at your mask.

"You should probably take that off, you don't want to be rude in your first day before the boss, right?" she chuckled. "You're right," you nodded and proceeded with her advice. Your fingers slid under the mask and hooked at its hem, you tugged upwards. Your (h/c) strands cascaded down and bounced on your shoulders, and you revealed a curious set of (e/c) eyes and (s/c) skin.

Jess ran her hands through your hair, quickly fixing it- after being pressed down by the mask it had a little bit of frizz to it, "You're looking great, now go get that job girl" and she turned you around by the shoulders and patted your back in support.

You smiled and blushed, a little bit of confidence surging within you, you were nervous.

[His gaze, something about it, it made you uncomfortable. You did not think much of it, putting the blame on the towering height the platform provided.]

You twisted your fist around the web, and swung yourself and pulled down with strength, propelling yourself upwards. You made sure to land with grace on the platform, you really wanted to land yourself that good first impression.

"Here she is," Peter B dragged on the sound of the vowels, as if presenting some grand entrance, he walked behind you and placed his hands on your shoulders. Quickly, Peter B hunched and whispered encouraging words in your ear-

"You'll do great," he said softly against your ear. You offered a small smile and walked out of his hold, facing the man before you two.

'Well, damn' you said loudly in your mind. If when you were below this man seemed intimidating, now up close, it was ten times more so. He had a big build, broad shoulders and clear, lined brick muscles under his cyber-punk blue and red suit. His forearms left his hips and were flexed below his broad chest, highlighting the muscles in his arms even more. You looked up to his face and gulped.

He had a chiseled, handsome, tanned face- his jaw was sharp and so was his wide nose, his cheekbones were high and his eyebrows thick and straight, giving him a mature look. Your guess was that he was somewhere in his 30's, and by the look in his fierce yet tired eyes evinced by the bags under them, you guessed he had also gone through a lot (not like you will pry about it now, that seemed like a death wish for sure).

Were you staring for too long? You did not notice, at least not until the man before you grunted and shot raised his eyebrows, tilting his face to the side as if granting you the permission to speak.

You also heard Peter B. cough, not so casually.

"Uhm, hi! I," you smiled widely, only to earn a slight judgmental look from him, 'oh my god, this is going to be harder than it looks.' To recover from that small awkward moment, you offered you hand to shake it and rephrased, "Hello, I'm (Y/n) (L/n) and I'm Spider-Woman from Earth-699, or so I've been told."

You recomposed your breath and stance, shoulders and back straightened, trying to come off as confident and polite. "I met Peter B. Parker and Jessica Drew on my night patrol, and it was quite a surprise, but a nice one. They told me everything about this place, and about the multiverse," unbeknownst to you, the glint in your eyes as your excitement began to slip past the professional facade caught his eyes, "and let me tell you I would be more than glad to join the team, it would be an amazing opportunity, and a responsibility I would be more than glad to take over".

Miguel could tell you were not lying, albeit he could tell you were nervous and a bit fidgety, but your tongue rolled not honeyed words, but ones that were sincere. He genuinely appreciated that.

Your hand was still outstretched when he called out for his trusted A.I, "Lyla", and with simply calling out her name, it appeared.

A tiny orange holograph of a person appeared right before you, at the edge of your nose to be precise, like a playful fairy. She wore an oversize coat and fashionable boots, and distinctive pink heart-shaped glasses.

"Hello!" She greeted, and you were slightly caught off guard. You were about to greet back, but she vanished, and reappeared on your shoulder, and then again, and she reappeared on your other shoulder, and again- this time above you. Your sight tried to follow her, but to no avail as she vanished and materialized, yet you did catch a glimpse of these round devices she had with her which bathed you, in yet again, orange light.

"Scanning complete!" she announced and appeared for a final time on Miguel's shoulder. "Let's see... Indeed, from Earth-699, and with an excellent track record of ten years! Her cannon remains intact, and if you ask me, she seems to be an excellent candidate."

"Oh, thanks...?" You were not sure what to say, how could she know all that? It was a heck of an artificial intelligence, nothing you had witnessed back at home, even with Pete's genius, and she even winked at you. She was sentient, that was mind blowing.

Whatever Lyla, as you recalled, showed Miguel seemed to be some sort of CV. He was looking through a holographic tab, and you managed to see a few mirrored images of you and your New York, recognizing frames and scenes from your life and the people you had come across. As he scrolled down through the screen, he kept taking glances at you, as if corroborating the information, while you just stood there with a bright smile and relaxed features in your face- although you were panicking on the inside.

The tanned man closed the tab and redirected his gaze on you, his dark eyes piercing right through yours, but his features relaxed and he even offered a small smile.

"My name is Miguel O' Hara," a smooth, Spanish accent evident on his first name, "and I'm this universe's Spiderman, Earth-2099." He stretched out his own hand, offering it to you and you shook it- his grip was strong and secure, and his hand enclosed over your smaller one.

He retrieved his hand, but he kept it open, his palm facing up while he showed it to you. A bracelet began to materialize on it. After a few seconds, the materializing process was complete, and you noticed the same device Peter B. and Jess had on their wrists.

"It's a travelling gizmo, used for hopping to other dimensions without glitching" the A.I filled in. You took it carefully from Miguel's hands, and with the same manner, you slid it on your wrist- it was a perfect fit.

After the click sound, you admired it for a few seconds before Miguel spoke again, "You are part of the club now."

His features fell back to a strict, but calm, look on his face, and he continued, "You'll be called for missions through the gizmo, nothing for today but be sure to answer on time. I do not like it when people are late for work", he said harshly, and you nodded.

"See, I told you it would work out!" the 'professional' atmosphere was cut short by Peter B, who seemed excited as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders. "She won't disappoint Miguel, I'm sure of it." He said as he smiled at Miguel, and you noticed how his features fell flat upon Peter B, however you could not help a giggle escape from your lips.

"Yes, I'll make sure of that", you looked at Peter and smiled, and repeated the same affection with Miguel, who widened his eyes but recomposed quickly, covering for any slip-ups.

"Well if everything is settled then, I'll be leaving." Peter B. patted your shoulders simultaneously "I have a little girl and a beautiful wife waiting for me, back home." The words that came out of the Spider' Peter made your eyes widen and your mouth dropped open,

"You are married?! And have a child?!"

"Yes, they are the most wonderful people on Earth!" he said giddily, then he quirked his eyebrows and put his hands on his hips, he sounded quizzical "Why do you sound so surprised though?"

"No, no, I'm just very curious- as you are the other version of my best friend. So, who's the lucky girl?" you enquired, still not believing it.

"Mary Jane, I don't know if you know her in your dimension," he said with a warm tone in his voice, you could tell by the way he spoke about her that he was really in love with her. Of course, you knew Mary Jane, or MJ as you called her. She was a close friend of yours, and Pete, and the main subject of your teasing against him. In your dimension, Peter is so in love with MJ but has yet to gather the courage to face her and take her out on a date.

You laughed, "My Peter would be blushing mad right now. He has yet to take her out on a date and make his move", your words made Peter B remember of the past, and he chuckled.

"Any advice I could relay to him? I want to be the best wingman there is"

"Just tell him to be himself, it'll work out. Ooh, but be sure to tell him he must be on time when he arranges any dates! It will save him a lot of trouble!"

"I'll make sure to tell him", you giggled. Then Peter B proceeded to take out his cellphone and show you pictures of his baby daughter, MJ. You could not help but gush alongside him, she was adorable, with her funny faces, the pictures of her playing around and in little outfits, and as she was doing little mischiefs [you swore right there and then that when the time comes, you would be the coolest auntie ever]

You continued to fangirl over the baby photos until Miguel O'Hara interrupted the both of you, "It's getting late, the both of you. "

His face said it all- the poker face, and flat lips, he looked tired. Hence you bid farewell, Lyla sat on your shoulder as she helped you with the interface of the gizmo. You managed to open a portal back to your home dimension and bid the corresponding farewells before jumping back home.

"So, I get that you did like her?"

Miguel grunted, "Como sea, el tiempo lo dira. Go home Peter, I can't stand you any longer".

Seeing that Miguel was already switching back to his grumpy humor, Peter B raised his hands in the air. "Geez, Miguel, cut me some slack" and turned around, not before making a portal to his own dimension. With his hands still raised in the air, he teased, "You'll end up scaring the new recruit" and jumped back into the portal before he could face an even grumpier Miguel.

"Ese insufrible hijo de-"

"He's kinda right though"

"Lyla!"

"See? Geez, you're going to get even more wrinkles..."

The A.I vanished out of Miguel's clawed swipe, and sticked out her tongue in mockery as the man growled.

Surprisingly, instead of landing on the hard concrete floor, you landed on the soft surface of what you recognized to be your own bed, and you made a mental note to remind yourself to thank Lyla.

"Ah, right, the window", you recalled you had told Pete to leave it open, so you went out to the living room and put on its lock. The living room was dark, it had the faint glow of NYC's night. It was a pleasant surprise for you thought you would be arriving at dawn, but it was not the case- you would get more sleep.

"Five hours of sleep are still better than one" you mumbled and retrieved the used mug left on the coffee table, which you then rinsed in the sink- a small favor for your guy in the chair.

At last, you took off your suit and after doing your nightly bathroom routine, you plopped on the bed. Sleep caught up with you quickly, it had been a busy and long night- you only hoped you would listen to your alarm in the morning and be able to get to work.

You shifted in your bed and cuddled into your pillow, your lips parted and let own a drowsy yawn, "I'll have to tell everything to Pete tomorrow" and with that, you closed your eyes.

Although tired and sleepy, you could not help the fuzzy feeling in your chest- you were so happy for what was to come, hoping for the best. You could not wait to be back at headquarters, but you guess, it will have to wait until tomorrow in the least. For now, you would have to settle for some hours of sleep.

A/n: EVERYONE THANK YOU SO MUCH! Part I is about to reach 2k notes and I can't believe I now have 1k followers, truly, thank you so much. Thank you to all the people that have reblogged and commented, I can't express how thankful I am truly. I also want to apologize for the delay, I had a hard writer's block as regards Miguel's introduction, I wanted it to be perfect, and it still not is. I also wanted to give reader a good backbone for the story. Anyway, Part III follows suit and with it the yandere! (yes! finally- I know people can get impatient for it bc it happens to me too). Anyways, I hope you like this part, and I am looking forward for your opinions!

Translations: (Btw, I am Argentinean, not Mexican, so I do speak castellano or spanish, but not mexican-slang spanish. I hope my Mexican readers are cool with the way Miguel speaks!) "Que ganas de molestar..." = So bothersome/ so annoying, or literally 'such need to bother' "Como sea, el tiempo lo dira." = Anyway/Anyhow, time will tell. "Ese insufrible hijo de-" = That insufferable son of a-

#yandere #yandere x reader #self insert #yandere blog #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #miguel o' hara x reader #yandere miguel #yandere miguel o' hara #yandere miguel x reader #yandere miguel o' hara x reader #fem reader #yandere across the spider-verse #yandere spiderman #spiderman 2099 #yandere spiderman 2099

1K notes · View notes