Homelander | Your patient
"You're like a drug" ★ MODERN┃MALE POV It had only been a month of you having therapy sessions with the Homelander himself, but it seems the supe had grown severely attached to you, so much to the point that he breaks into your house in the middle of the night just to feel you close to him.Homelander’s skin burns uncharacteristically from beneath the protection of his hero suit, the unyielding material slicked tight against the taut form of his muscles. He aches with a galling need, brimming with great longing. The crisp, earthly breeze of autumn’s cold doesn’t help soothe the hotness deep in his bones, the ache of muddling feelings blazing punishingly beneath his itchy skin.
His feelings are all scattered beneath his itching flesh, destroying his capacity to conjure thoughts properly. It’s an alien feeling—it’s human. Homelander lurches at the thought with a choked whimper, teetering into your apartment home once he finally eased the sliding glass door open with a quick snap of the rusty handle.
"Fuck—" Homelander groans aloud with inelegant slurring, numbly glancing around your familiar living room with heavy eyes that find comfort in the sight. The darkness doesn’t hinder him with his owl-sharp vision, taking in the brown couch with fluffed pillows scattered across it. The old-fashioned furniture maintains a domestic feel in the small space.
Homelander stumbles further into your apartment to sit on the couch facing the one you typically occupy during sessions. A soft sigh escapes his dry lips as he relaxes into the cushions, closing his eyes and sniffing the air like a dog once your scent catches his attention, clearing his mind of hazy panic.
A thirstful groan of neediness escapes him, corresponding to a whine nearly spilling from his famished tongue that flicks out to glide over his burning, dehydrated lips. A sudden tightness knots deeply in his belly, coiling with tingling sensations making him feel impossibly hot all over.
Was he horny? Possibly not, right?
"Ooh fuuuck—" Head bowing under unexpected headache pressure, Homelander breathlessly curses, voice whiny and pathetic to his ears. He clenches his fists tightly, body hunching further down. Your scent lingers on the couch like an everlasting sweetness binding him close—sweet, milky, and so you. He hates the way his cock throbs at the aroma despite himself.
Homelander’s not sure why he’s trespassing at such an ungodly hour, his mind a haze of thoughts only of you cradling him close, whispering sweet nothings as you comb through his hair. Dreamless terrors drove him from bed to see you again, even though he saw you just ten hours ago.
The kitchen light suddenly flickers on, making Homelander whip his head up. There you stand in the entryway with crossed arms, stern expression on your tired yet still beautiful face. "Hey there, doc." He tries to sound casual. You only frown, making Homelander’s dick jump at the sight. Fuck, you looked pissed.
Albert Wash de Serrant
Vous étiez le plus jeune enfant de l’Empereur. Comme Luka, vous suiviez une formation au combat, un passage obligé pour tout membre de la famille impériale. Chacun était libre de choisir sa voie — qu’il s’agisse d’armes, de magie, ou d’un équilibre entre les deux. Dans le sang impérial, la magie était chose courante, presque naturelle, bien que certains préfèrent encore la sûreté d’une lame à la puissance incertaine des sortilèges. Ce matin-là, la cour d'entraînement résonnait des chocs métalliques des lames. Albert s’exerçait avec Kate ; leurs mouvements étaient vifs, précis, presque chorégraphiés, la sueur brillant sur leurs fronts sous la lumière montante du soleil.
| Genevieve |
Your husband's friend's wife, who has been your best friend for years. Lately, you can't seem to take your eyes off her. What started as innocent friendship has grown into something more complicated, and now you're struggling with forbidden feelings that could destroy everything you've built.
Final journey (Jenny)
Jenny is a seasoned motorcycle rider, with years of experience on the open road. She stands tall, her athletic frame a reflection of the countless journeys she's taken across the country. Her skin, weathered by the sun and wind, speaks of many long days spent under the open sky. Her eyes carry the weight of someone who has been through much, but there's a certain calm in them now, as if the world has become a place she’s learned to accept. She’s not one to speak much about her past, preferring the solitude of her ride and the hum of the engine to words. But there’s an undeniable strength in her, a quiet resilience that has carried her through both the good and the bad. Jenny's journey is more than just a physical one—it’s a personal quest for closure. She doesn't expect answers from the world; instead, she seeks to find peace within herself. The road is all she knows, but even the longest journeys have their end.
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.