FINGERS TWISTED BEHIND MY BACK (DON'T LET IT BE YOU I LACK) Aventurine X Gn!reader, 862

FINGERS TWISTED BEHIND MY BACK (DON'T LET IT BE YOU I LACK) ── aventurine x gn!reader, 862

aventurine hates fighting with you.

he does not even remember it—not clearly, at least. through the memories mudded by the buzz of soulglad and whatever alcoholic beverages he'd guzzled down the night before, the exact expression of your face when he stumbled back into your hotel room is a blur (a pretty blur, he is quite sure, though no doubt a disappointed one) and the sentences you'd spat out at him were jumbled into words that grate in his eardrums when he tries to recall what exactly was said. aventurine tries to echo it to himself, but even the incoherence sounds bitter on his tongue, and all that comes out an indistinct, asthmatic gasp that he's quite sure is some sort of equivalent of his heart aching. or breaking. somewhere in between, perhaps.

he rolls over in your bed, damp from the shower and tears. aventurine is thankful veritas hasn't stormed in to nag at him; he would not be able to stomach being seen like this by anyone else but you: his sweet safe haven, his little eden. you've gone now, stormed off somewhere to cool off. aventurine leaves you be (even if he spent the first two hours alone relentlessly spamming your phone with messages, pleas to come back and return) but he is still alone.

the thought occurred to him somewhere between hour three and hour five, that you'd never come back. aventurine doesn't let it linger. his stomach roils, mouth tasting of bitter alcohol and sweet dreams where you are still there and he'd never upset you.

the hours he spends there without you are hellish, a parody of a bleak, grief-stricken painting of some woman whose husband has gone out to fight in an intergalactic war—draped over the bed, numb and miserable to everything but the thought of you he has to conjure every now and then to keep himself sane. the air is cold and never seems to adjust, even though the reverie's rooms are specifically designed to tailor to the guest's tastes. they clearly did not consider the factor that is a hopeless, lovesick man suffering from withdrawal.

the door creaks open.

aventurine darts up in his your bed, instantly whipping myself up into such a nervous, edgy frenzy that he almost forgets how to breathe. his lungs shudder, the cogs in his brain turning the wrong way, and nothing is working fast enough, right enough as he stumbles to his feet, nearly tripping over the carpet as he finds you toeing off your shoes at the door, so pretty it hurts.

"welcome home," aventurine manages to choke out, still tripped-out and dizzy, heart pounding loud in his fingertips and ears. he watches you glance up at him, your eyes meeting his own for the first time in hours that feel like centuries, and the burden on his lungs alleviates—just a little bit.

"…aventurine," you sigh in this throaty, broken voice that cuts right at his chest. he winces as if he's been struck, eyes flitting to the dizzying pattern of the carpet in effort to hide the glossiness of his irises.

he hears your feet padding across the room to him, the footfalls soft and slow and not at all violent, though he cannot help but fear. there can always be a finality to the softest, gentlest of mercies. not that aventurine has ever experienced it before, but he knows it is possible with you: you who holds his heart in your hands, and you may very well tear it apart if you so wished.

aventurine will let you, if that is what you want.

but instead he swallows, too loudly; finds his fingers instinctively twisting behind his back. "are you going?"

"i just arrived," you whisper, endlessly gentle, endlessly soft—forgiving.

"i know," his voice breaks, and you reach out to touch him—palm against cheek, thumb brushing over the slope of his cheekbone. something cold and damp trails over the flesh of his face, fair marble streaked with a single rivulet of a tear. he does not tell you why he wants to cry. you know anyway.

aventurine thinks pretending would be easier with you, but here in this room, at the end of the day when everyone else has escaped into their own dreamscape, he is tired of saccharine sweet lies, the twisting webs that he pulls around without even understanding the final result it will conjure. it is easier, he thinks, to let you keep his heart and do with it as you wish—and aventurine can only hope that you will be merciful.

are you going? the second set of three words, that single question that he truly wants to ask is caught in his throat, because you may hold aventurine's heart in your palms, but if you will not use your own bloody fingers to pry it open, he must do it for you—and he can't. not for this, at least.

but you know anyway. of course you do.

will you stay?

"i'm right here," you murmur, sweet and godly against his lips, swallowing the sob that he almost lets out. "i'm staying right here."

© trappolia 2024

This genre of Vil with smudge-testing lipsticks on us is my absoulute hyperfixation rn

Hiya! Do you think you could write something romantic and fluffy with Vil? I love him!

hi anon of course! I am so unwell about this man

summary: being friends with vil schoenheit has its perks type of post: fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, FLUFFY, mentions of food, friends to lovers huhuhu, maybe a tiny bit suggestive but also not really? lap-sitting and kissing

Someone should write a guide on how to be friends with Vil Schoenheit.

It did not come as naturally to you as you would have hoped. There were times when he felt like a star in your presence, not the actor kind, but the heavenly body.

Bright, and burning, and millions of miles away. Even as he sat directly across from you.

"You're not eating," he remarks. The comment is not degrading, though it is tinged with curiosity. "Is it bad?"

You haven't even sampled the meal yet- something fancy and expensive that you likely couldn't pronounce. He'd ordered it for you.

"It's okay," you lie.

He either buys your excuse, or ignores it. Either way, he reaches across the gossamer table cloth and switches your plates without asking.

Vil Schoenheit Friendship Survival Manual, rule number one: always assume his judgment is correct, until proven otherwise.

You look down at the plate- some kind of vegetable dish. He urges you on with a nod, lilac eyes fixed firmly on your pleasantly surprised reaction when you take a bite.

Rule number two: his judgment is always correct.

"Better?" he asks, not bothering to finish your food. He'll likely get something else later. "You really shouldn't skip meals. If you were feeling unwell, you should have said so. I would've ordered something lighter for you."

"Sorry. Didn't think of it," you say, taking another bite of his meal, if only to appease him.

You're hesitant to mention that the heavy feeling in your chest wasn't from illness, and so you say nothing more.

"No need to apologize. Here,"

Vil delicately reaches across the table and dabs at the corner of your mouth with his napkin. You hate how light-headed such a simple action makes you feel.

"Better. And don't worry about smudging anything, I have a few new products I'd like to try out on you later,"

Rule number three: always accept his gifts.

"Thanks," you murmur.

You were starting to feel as if you really were ill, the way your entire body warmed in his presence. Vil brought out a feverish sort of stupidity in you that made outings like this a minefield to navigate.

How painfully cliché, you thought. Hopelessly in love with someone far out of your league, with infinite options, none of which you could even hope to catch up to...

It made these evenings together pure torture.

You felt guilty for wishing he wasn't such an amazing friend. Must he insist on showering you in gifts and holding your hand every time you cross the street?

But being in his bedroom is another, dirtier realm of guilt. Vil saw you as a friend. Platonic. Someone he confided in, who he took under his wing. You were allowed to see parts of him no one else had, and yet, you can hardly pay attention to what he's saying because you can't stop thinking about the way his lips look when he speaks.

"Did you understand any of that?" he asks, bending down to your level as you sit on his bed. On his bed. And you had the mind to be thinking about doing romantic things...

Rule number four: speak when spoken to.

"No, sorry, I've just had a lot on my mind lately,"

Vil clicks his tongue and holds a hand to your forehead, feeling for temperature. "And you're sure you're not ill?"

"I'm fine! Just distracted,"

He chuckles, walking across the room to peruse his vanity. "Hm... and what sort of thoughts have got you scatterbrained today?"

You can feel your skin burning again. He could tell, couldn't he? All these weeks of coming undone every time he so much as looks your way couldn't have gone over his head... could they?

Or perhaps he was just used to people staring at him, stumbling over their words every time he spoke. Perhaps you were just another foolish fan who'd gotten to know him before falling in love.

You couldn't help but wish that there was someone or something that would just tell you what to do.

Rule number five: do not fall in love with him.

Vil sits beside you, a small, wooden box in hand.

"I'm supposed to promote these next weekend, but I'm not sure about them, yet," he says, opening the lid to reveal a plethora of lipsticks that likely cost more than your existence. "I'll need your opinion, of course."

"Right," you murmur.

"And I'd like to try them on you, as well,"

"Of course,"

"And you're alright with that?"

You nod. Ever the gentleman, always asking for permission. He's been quite generous with his products lately, giving them away to you like candy. You're almost certain he has a full list of your allergens somewhere.

Vil returns to the vanity, delicately prepping, and then applying the first shade. It's a marvelous, metallic pink, with dark red undertones that make it a regal color. It suits him, and you say as much.

"Oh, you think so? I suppose it does compliment my eyes, although I'd definitely need to pair it with something darker, else it become too overpowering..."

He clicks his tongue, and then turns to look over his shoulder at you.

"Your turn. Come sit,"

There isn't another chair at the vanity, and you take that as your cue to awkwardly stand in front of him until he tells you what to do. He chuckles, amused by some thought of his that he doesn't share aloud.

"What are you standing there for? Sit,"

You awkwardly look around the space, eyes searching for a mysteriously hidden stool, something that should have been obvious...

He smiles. "Oh, don't be shy. We've known each other long enough by now, haven't we?"

You can't think of the right thing to ask, although your thoughts are quickly cut off by the sight of him gently patting his lap.

Sevens. If there were any time to wake up, this was it.

Rule number five: do not fall in love with him.

He's not joking, of course. Vil hardly jokes. And so, you awkwardly straddle his lap, facing towards him, and allow him to get a good look at your visage.

He holds your chin firmly, studying your features as if he hasn't already seen them a thousand times before.

"Stay still,"

He's going to give you a heart attack, and there's a little quirk in his smile that tells you he knows it, too.

You wonder what your tag at the morgue will say. Death by Vil Schoenheit?

He starts with your skin, commenting on how soft it's gotten since he met you, then your eyes...

...Once he's satisfied, as he always is with his work, he turns your head so you can admire the makeup look in the mirror behind you.

"Stunning," he comments. "But you're missing something."

You look back, eyes wide. Surely, he hadn't forgotten something...? That's simply not in his nature.

He smiles at your confusion. "Remember? You promised to test these for me?"

Right. The lipstick. You nod. "Yes, but, I thought you'd already..."

"Oh, I do like the color. I'm just worried about this brand," Vil says. He looks away for a moment, almost as if to summon his courage... what a strange expression on him.

"What's wrong with the brand?"

He turns back with a small smirk. "They have a nasty reputation for smudging easily. I wouldn't want to make a fool of myself next weekend, hm?"

His cups your chin again, bringing you closer.

Rule number five: do not fall in love with him!

He tilts his head to the side. "You don't mind, do you?"

You couldn't have shaken your head any faster, even with his grip on your chin.

"Good. Now, stay still. I think this will be a good color on you, anyway,"

He pulls you in with ease, letting his lips rest on yours for a second or two, before pulling back. Short but sweet, enough to make you feel like your entire body has gone numb.

He inspects your face, humming to himself...

"Good so far," he says, bringing you closer again. "But that was too safe. I won't hold back next time. Are you ready?"

You nod. Barely anything had happened, and you're already breathless. "Ready,"

Another smile crosses his perfect face, though he doesn't give you any time to admire it before he's kissing you again, one hand still cupping your face, the other holding the back of your neck and pressing you closer.

Definitely not a very platonic kiss.

It takes him longer to pull away this time, though when he does, it gives you a perfect view of his still-pristine makeup.

"Hmm... still nothing. I'm quite impressed with this line," he says, reaching behind you and returning with the wooden box. "How do you feel?"

Dizzy. Light-headed. Warm.

"Good," you say.

Rule number five: do not fall in love with him.

Or do.

"Not too much, I hope?"

A delightful realization was beginning to come over you, one that made all you had thought about him null and void:

No one else could possibly give you a guide on Vil Schoenheit, because he writes the rules himself.

"No. That was perfect,"

"Excellent," he smiles, and flips the box open again. "Because we still have six more colors to test."

Sienna and The Scientist

We've gone from Androids to 🥁🥁🥁 aliens! This one's a little weirder than my last post but such is life.

Literotica summary: Sienna is experimented on by an alien anthropologist.

Critiques are always appreciated I'm trying to improve so that one day I can write an actual novel!

5.5k words, non-con-ish?, oviposition, alien x female reader

Sienna woke with a headache and the smell of ammonia.

Her eyes fluttered open, just barely cracking her lids before they widened at what she found herself looking at.

A white padded room. It wasn't just the cold tile that gave Sienna the chills. She was staring at a prison cell. Every corner had a camera pointing at her, there was a twin bed and a metal sink that had a toilet bowl protruding out of the side.

If the room wasn't enough there was also the fact that she was stark naked, stark naked and shaved. What was once her pussy covered in soft tufts was now completely bare. She rubbed her thighs together and could feel the way her cunt lips rubbed together from the movement now that there was no friction or barrier.

Sienna shook her head, she had bigger problems than her naked pussy.

"H-hello?" she rasped out, "someone?"

She stood and did a full 360, all around her were squares of padded white. No door, not even a gap to suggest one.

She stared at the cameras. Not only was she naked but she was being recorded naked, she banged on one of the padded blocks, and when that did nothing she shouldered against it.

She paced around the room before shouting, "Hello?" she waved her hands, "I know you're watching me!"

She waited for a response.

Nothing.

Sienna began to feel restless, she shouldered the wall once again and hissed when she sunk into the wall. She banged her fists against the material, which was just as useless as all her other attacks.

She walked around the whole square box of the room, looking at everything, which was to say–not much.

How did she get here?

Sienna sat on the bed.

She tried to retrace her steps but the thing was, Sienna had no recollection of the events that led to this room. She could remember her name, her birthday, and the leftover Chinese takeout she ate for breakfast that morning but not anything that happened within the past few hours.

Sienna wasn't going to last long. She was already going insane–she could feel it, that familiar craze you feel in the heat of the moment when you think a man is following you but instead just passes you by.

She started calling out for help again and there was nothing but the echo of her own words. With panic and a twisted gut, tears sprang to her eyes. She pulled at her hair.

She was already breaking, Sienna was not the final girl.

It was so typical really, to be kidnapped. If it was going to happen to someone, of course, it happened to her. She was the weakest link, she could admit that. She didn't do cardio and she didn't lift weights. Her thighs jiggled and her belly was soft.

So sick of her own breathing, Sienna decided to test a theory.

A stupid theory, her brain chimed in.

She looked at the camera, "please let me out," she begged.

She stared off for a moment, one second–two, then three.

Nothing.

She crawled back to the floor, crouched down, planting her palms on the tile. Then. Unceremoniously, craned her head back and slammed it onto the surface.

Sienna groaned, and then she did it again. The pain was agonizing and she could no longer see straight. She was pretty sure her forehead was bleeding. But the sound of the hiss of depressurizing made it all worth it.

Whatever she was here for, it wasn't to be tortured and murdered which made self-mutilation a no-go. She was merchandise.

Sienna tilted her head and nearly blacked out but she saw there was now a long door-shaped hole in the wall.

She almost grinned at her plan to get her kidnapper's attention succeeding until something inhuman stepped through the door. Her eyes bulged. She must have been hallucinating. Green, pale green skin, tall and lean. Four arms. She had just bashed her head into the floor, there was no way what she was seeing was real.

No, it was walking closer, and…and it was talking.

"What do you think you're doing?" hissed the creature.

Sienna gaped like a fish. He spoke a different language, all clicks and hisses, and yet somehow she could understand him!

What the hell was going on?

Sienna scrambled away but she was weak on her feet and stumbled, she was going to pass out. She wiped her nose and realized it was bleeding.

"Let..lemme go." she slurred.

The four armed being moved closer to her. It was prowling forward, baring its sharp shark teeth at her. Holy shit.

Sienna's eyes rolled back and her face fell forward.

-

The second time Sienna woke, she was strapped to a table and staring at her reflection. There were panels of mirrors on the ceiling. She craned her neck and her eyes widened. She hadn't been hallucinating, there was a tall green…something, staring at her.

"You're awake."

"I–"

"That wasn't a question." the creature spoke, once again not in her native language but somehow her brain translated the words for her.

"W-who are you? Where am I? What am I doing here?" she questioned rapidly.

The green being stared at her, she almost thought he wasn't going to answer but–

"You're in a laboratory," he said unhelpfully, "I am the scientist assigned to you, and you are here as my test subject."

"A… laboratory?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"You are on the planet Zorkis."

Sienna's eyes bulged further and her heart rate spiked. She knew that not only from the pain in her chest but because of the incessant beeping of a machine she was connected to. She practically choked on her spit.

"I"m on another planet?" she asked genuinely. Because. Frankly. It was very hard to believe, but then again she was staring at a green 4-armed monster. So what did Sienna really know?

She wasn't getting home, that's for sure.

"This is correct." The alien scientist responded.

Sienna started to struggle against the leather straps horizontally draped over her body. The alien calmly watched her seemingly not caring that she was attempting to escape.

"You will not get out of those." the alien spoke, "not even I would be able to escape those straps and I'm far stronger than you are, pet."

She gasped.

Pet? Is that what he had just called her?

"I'm not your pet!" she hissed, "Let me out of here! Why are you doing this? Huh? Why me?" her voice was getting shrill and she was exhausting herself.

The alien gave a very human shrug, "Why not you?" she swallowed. "Besides…" he trailed, one of his long fingers trailing up her calf, "You're the first human to ever try to self-mutilate so soon," he says like that's a good thing.

It made her interesting.

He was fascinated with her.

"What are you testing me for?" she croaked.

"I've been assigned to learn about your reproductive and mating habits," he said lowly. Reproductive habits? Oh no. No. No. No.

She shook her head, "You can't do that. You can't." she said, the panic once again building up within her.

"I can and I will." he paused, pulling his finger away from the leg he had been stroking. "You see my species has gone through a plague very recently. Nearly half of our population was decimated and we need to rebuild our numbers if there's any hope for the new generation," he explained. "So we have been searching all over the galaxy to find a successful host body. Humans fit the bill."

Sienna stiffened.

No.

No, no, no.

She was going to have a panic attack or throw up or both. Sienna had been brought here to be some sort of baby maker? No way, she couldn't–she wouldn't.

"Now," he spoke, "I am Dr. Xorad and you will address me as such. I will be responsible for you during your stay."

Her ears perked at his words, "My stay? You're going to let me go home at the end of all this?" she could deal with that. Pop-out some half-alien, half-human baby, Whatever it took to make sure she was good to go back home. Fine. Sure. Awesome.

"No." He said, crushing her hope. "You will likely never return home to your home planet but if everything goes well you will be assimilated into my species' society."

Sienna gasps, "No!" she shouts. "Please don't do this, please let me go." she was trembling now, her hands fisted and she began to wriggle around again. "Let me out!" she demanded. "Let me out right now!"

The alien–Dr. Xorad did not respond to Sienna's tantrum, instead, he merely waited until she once again exhausted herself. Sienna breathed heavily.

She was restless but all of her fight had been yelled out of her.

"What are you going to do?" she asks direly.

"I'm going to give you an ultrasound," it says, "then I am going to draw your blood." the way Dr. Xorad speaks makes it all sound so clinical though she was unsurprised that he was unsympathetic to her cause.

"That's it?" She asked nervously."

"No." Sienna's stomach twists.

She licked her lips, "You're a doctor? You've been to medical school?"

"Medical school?" the alien asks, picking up a squeeze bottle, "What is medical school?" Oh god. Was this a translation error or had he really not been given any formal education?

The doctor snaps on a glove and then squeezes a sizable glob of cool blue goo on her stomach. He spreads it around and she shivers.

"It's a place you go to learn to be a doctor," she explains.

"Oh."

"So, did you go to a place like that?"

"No." it says, "Zorkis has no such thing."

She inhales, "Zorkis?"

"The planet we are currently on. My home. Your home."

Before she could say this was not her home, he was gliding a probe over her naked belly. Dr. Zorad seemed very focused on what it was doing.

It didn't wear a lab coat which is what made a doctor in Sienna's mind. In fact, it was completely naked like her. He had a defined torso and nice biceps but where his cock and balls should be was Barbie doll smooth. His thighs were thick and his legs were digitigrade with 3 clawed toes just like the amount of fingers he had. Though she supposed it didn't matter considering he had four arms.

Those arms worked in tandem. One hand was gliding the probe over her stomach, another was scratching at his angular jaw and a third was holding some sort of electronic tablet. She had no idea how a person–or–not person, but an alien, could control four limbs simultaneously like that.

"Do not worry however, I have plenty of experience." he rattles, "I have studied under a mentor for many years. I worked by his side until his death." Oh.

Oh.

"You have a gender?" she asked curiously.

Dr. Xorad paused. "Yes." it–they, spoke stiffly, nostrils flaring. "I am a virile male.

Sienna's lips thinned. "Virile" is not something she cared to hear, nor did she like the fact that this being was a man–male, whatever. What was clear however was that she had bruised his very human-like male ego from her ignorance because he seemed downright icy instead of cold. Speaking of cold….

"Did you shave me?"

"Yes."

Oh.

She shivers.

An alien shaved her pussy.

"You didn't shave my head," she remarks.

"I was informed it was ornamentation for your kind and it would cause you distress if I did." the monitor beeped. One of Dr. Xorad's hands wrote something down on the clipboard.

"Well, if you didn't want me distressed you should have locked me in a padded cell or strapped me down to this table," she says. He looks at her, his black eyes boring into her soul. Finally, he shrugs.

"Maybe not." he merely says.

"I mean why did you have to shave my…?"

"For better access." Sienna made an outraged noise.

"It is easier to see now."

"You're a sick bast–Oh!" she gasped as he pricked her with an IV needle. "Ow." Sienna could've sword she saw an upturned curl on his lips when she was startled.

"Mm." the doctor hums and Sienna sighs.

What was she going to do? How was she going to escape this? She did not want to be poked and prodded at. She didn't want to be tested or assimilated into and she certainly did not want to play human incubator.

"Am I your first human test subject?"

"First and only," he responds as her blood goes up, up, up into the tube, and fills into a blood bag. "It's my job to research you personally."

"But there are others?"

"Yes, and you will meet one soon."

"Just one?"

"For now."

Sienna was beginning to feel nauseous. There were more humans here? How many? The look on Sienna's face must have been obvious because Dr. Xorad freely offered up. "You could be quite happy here. Our older humans have adapted very well, pet," he said in a way she could tell was trying to be reassuring.

"I'm not your pet," she says flatly.

"Then who are you?" he asks.

"Sienna." she offers.

"Sssee-en-nah." he hisses. "It is nice to meet you. You will learn soon that I plan to treat you very well." Sienna eyed him wearily. She didn't want to be treated well, she wanted to get the hell out of there.

Dr. Xorad turns around, pressing some buttons on his machines before saying, "You've come up all clear. No pregnancies, no illness, and no abnormalities." Sienna was surprised. Could he seriously test her blood that quickly? Just what kind of alien tech did they have? Dr. Xorad turned back to face her. "Now we can get started."

"W-what?" she stammered. That sounded way too ominous for Sienna's liking. "I thought that was it…"

"No. Those were merely tests to make sure you were fertile and healthy," he says straightforwardly. Fertile. She was nothing but a baby-maker to this male.

Sienna was snapped out of her depressing thought when one of her straps was unbuckled. He lifted her sleeping wrists above her head and then cuffed her there. He did the same thing with the strap on the bottom, cuffing her ankles. She was spread apart. Finally, he got rid of the middle strap altogether.

She began to hyperventilate.

"Stop," she said.

He did.

"Yes?" he looked down at her. His bottom hands were absently rubbing her ankles and it was distracting.

"I don't want this." she croaks. She wanted to kick him off was what she wanted. "I have a family." Lie. "and a boyfriend." Lie. "A future." Another lie.

Sienna Smith was a 25-year-old shut-in with no friends, a dead mom, and a no-show dad. The only time she left her small studio apartment was to go grocery shopping or to work. She didn't entertain co-workers and she certainly didn't entertain men. If it weren't for her therapist–who would be getting a hefty phone call when she figured out a way home–she'd go through life talking to someone less than twice a month.

"I will be careful," he said soothingly. It didn't help. "I have seen many demonstrations in the following weeks. I know what I am doing."

"Demonstrations…of what?"

He moved his bottom hands from her ankles to her calves, rubbing his palms over her up and down.

He spoke gently, "Human mating." What. "I understand this topic is very taboo to your species but there will be no judgment here in my clinic." her stomach dropped. He was going to fuck her?

She grimaced. She was in for a terrible ride.

"What is the problem?" he murmured seeing her face, he spoke…different than mere moments ago. Instead of the clinical stoic anthropologist he now sounded..kind. Caring. His eyes were looking–which you had to pay attention to or you'd miss it–straight between her legs. Her face heated.

"I–oh!" he was leaning forward now, stroking the tops of her thighs. Sienna squirmed.

"Good." he purred. "This is good." Oh god.

She tried to close her thighs but had no such luck due to her restraints. She could just barely bend her knees inward and that was her only range of motion.

Sienna looked back up to the doctor and gulped. He looked transfixed. She glanced at the ceiling and that's when she remembered the mirror panels. All forcing her to watch this happen to herself.

Somehow watching it from the reflection made it feel more intimate than impersonal so she closed her eyes.

His hands were inching closer and closer to her bare newly shaved–sensitive pussy. She bit her lip and breathed out. Oh god. Oh–

"God!" she gasped out when his knuckles stroked up the seam of her cunt. "Ahgn." her hips wriggled and she strained against her bindings.

"Good," he murmured once more. "This is a good reaction." it seemed like he was talking more to himself than to her at the moment. He dipped her fingers inside of her labia and was met with slick. She whimpered.

His hands were working in tandem. The bottom pair were in her pussy and rubbing her hip and the top pair were travelling up her belly to the valley between her breasts before squeezing them.

"These will grow when you are heavy with my young…" he murmured and her heart stopped.

"Y-your young?" she gasps, "I thought you were my doctor…?"

"I am pet, but I will also be the male who inseminates you."

Sienna couldn't focus on that piece of information at the moment, not when he traced over her clit and her hips bucked.

"Found it."

Sienna laughs then moans. Maybe he wasn't so different from a man after all. He circled her nipples the same way he circled her clit and her eyes rolled back while her hips tilted.

"Mmm…yeah." she moaned.

He glanced at her face, "Positive response…" he murmurs, "Next step.." he slowly edged the tip of his finger into her cunt. She groaned and he slipped the entire digit inside–knuckle deep.

"MMfh!"

"Good…" he said to her, "you are doing very well." he praised and she shivered, maybe this was unlocking a new kink for her. His praise seemed to get her into the moment. When had she started to get into this?

Her eyes were still closed but it wasn't easy to forget that this was not a human doing this to her. Not with his four hands stimulating her everywhere. Her thighs splayed out. She was pulsing around his single finger and it felt amazing when he curled it upward.

Another squeeze to her breast, "Do you want more?" he asked.

"Yes…" she moaned without hesitation, "Please yes."

When she was rescued she wouldn't include this part.

At her acceptance, he prodded her with another finger, but he prodded her excellently. His two fingers curled and his other hand started circling her clit fast at the same time. A noise that couldn't be described as attractive burst from Sienna's throat.

She pulled against her restraint and he chuckled.

"Easy pet," he murmured.

"Aghnn, please untie me!" she begged. He eyed her, his eyes flickering between her contorting face and what was going on between her legs. "I should…"

She whimpered, "please? I want…I need to touch you."

Dr. Xorad's eyes widened. It had not occurred to him that was even an option or possibility. He kept her legs strapped to the table but unbuckled both her wrists.

Immediately, Sienna's hands began to reach for the doctor's.

She held them against her breasts and showed him exactly how she liked to be caressed here as she panted, squirmed, and whined.

"Doctor…" she moaned, "I need more.." she whispered, "More please."

"More?"

"More…" she whined.

He looked down at her. There had been another thing he wanted to try…but every lesson he had learned on human reproduction advised against it until a deeper bond was formed with his assigned charge.

Still. Dr. Xorad could not help himself. He unstrapped her left leg, draped it over his shoulder, and gave her pussy a lick.

"Ye-ES!" she hissed. She bucked into his face, nearly sobbing. It had been so, so long since she had someone else touching her. Years of masturbation just wasn't the same and at the age she had finally gotten around to doing her firsts, it wasn't exactly great.

Dr. Xorad removed his fingers and replaced them with his wiggling tongue.

"Doctor!" she gasped. He let out a rumble in response, his head buried between her legs. She was spread and ent open, the last restraint was on her right ankle and she didn't even care that she was nearly free.

All she cared about was enjoying this for as long as possible.

Her eyes opened and she watched as Dr. Xorad ate her pussy from above. His back muscles flexed and his ass looked tight. He was groaning from between her thighs.

He pulled back, "I should be recording this session," he said quietly, giving her clit an opened-mouthed kiss. "You're being an exemplary charge. This would have been a very informative document to have." Sienna agreed.

Dr. Xorad was doing a wonderful job at licking Sienna's weeping pussy. She could feel her own slick running down her slit to her ass. The fact that she was hairless made it even better. She'd never been bare before but she felt so much more sensitive shaved like this. Everything was hypersensitive.

Sienna was overwhelmed by all 4 of Dr. Xorad's hands, her breasts were being groped, her pussy licked and clit rubbed. She was going to explode soon. Her hips were thrusting to meet his tongue inside her cunt. God help her but she was going to cum because of an alien anthropologist.

"Doctor!" she called again, her voice high and shrill. She could repeat nothing else but a combination of expletives, his name, and god's.

"Because you're being such a good girl–" he pulled back and she nearly cried, her hips were still humping the air, her pussy pulsing on nothing. He looked down at her, captured for a moment. She could feel tears welling in her eyes.

"Please." she croaked. "I need you!"

That seemed to do the trick. He wordlessly nodded and was now holding a squeeze bottle of some sort of gel that reminded her of the ultrasound goo. He goated his gloved fingers in it, then, he was fucking her again with his fingers. Something was happening inside. She felt warm, tingly, and filled.

She screamed, her inner walls contracted against her own volition, she was twitching and she held onto Dr. Zorrad's shoulders for dear life as she jolted up to a sitting position. Her eyes closed, squeezed tight and her toes began to curl.

She was clenched so tightly, panting and wailing until it all relaxed and warmth filled her abdomen, then, she was gushing.

Dr. Xorad had just made her squirt with his magic fingers and magic gel.

She was crying. Full ugly tears as her hips met his fingers thrusts.

He was right beside her, soothing her with praises, telling her how good she was doing but she wasn't crying because she was in pain or distress, she was crying because this was the best orgasm of her life.

He was guiding her through her orgasm, inserting and curling his fingers inside of her and hitting her g-spot over and over, his thumb rubbed over her clit at the same time and he had gone from groping her breasts to stroking her face. It felt..intimate.

Especially with all his crooning into her ear.

She was gasping, her body still pulsing as she sucked his fingers deeper into her

channel. He let out another rumble.

"Very good," he hummed.

Sienna was spent. She looked at her body from the mirrors above her and she was splayed out loosely, her limbs limp. The doctor ran a hand through her hair and muttered something she could not discern.

He unstrapped the other buckle on her right foot, then, dragged her forward so her bottom half was hanging off the edge of the table.

"What're you doin..?" she asked, lifting her head and her eyes widened.

Dr. Xorad did not appear to be as sexless as he appeared. In fact, currently, there was a slit opening–pulsing as she watched him dip his fingers inside, teasing something out while he lowly hissed. She watched as his fingers stroked the inner walls of his slit. It reminded her of her own pussy, wet and pink on the inside.

Instead what emerged was his cock. Long and already hard, completely hairless like the rest of his strange body. One of his hands stroked himself root to tip while the others were positioning her once again.

"Ohh..wait I don't think I can…"

He stood between her legs, rubbing his lubricated cock against her sloppy slit. She whimpered, her eyes rolling back.

"Fuck it…just stick it in," she said plainly. Her body was trembling with anticipation and the aftershocks of her first orgasm.

He grunted in response and nodded. But before he inserted himself inside her, he fingered more of that magic gel inside her pussy and she was whining again. Her pussy pulsed on nothing and she already felt close to orgasm.

He slid inside her in one ruthless motion.

They both groaned out.

"So tight." he hissed, "You already milk my cock."

"Mmmm…" she had no words for him, she was too busy enjoying the ridges of his cock inside her that she hadn't noticed. She bucked when one of those ridges rubbed her g-spot.

He bent over her and began to thrust, out slowly then in hard. Their skin slapped together and she could feel not only the gel mixing with her fluids, but his as well. This moment cemented Sienna as the weakest link.

But if being the weakest link meant getting fucked like this she didn't care. She was ruined. She was addicted to Dr. Zorad's fingers and cock, with–preferably–or without the gel.

She was making an awful keening noise in the back of her throat, a whine that reminded her of a dog begging for a bone. Tears were still trailing down her eyes and she was sure her face was scrunched in the ugliest ways.

Sienna did not think about being sexy for Dr. Xorad, she simply enjoyed what he was giving her and he seemed to have no complaints. In fact, he seemed to be having a wonderful time if the groans above her were any sign.

He lifted her legs, pushing the backs of her thighs so the tops pressed against her belly, her calves rested on his shoulders and Sienna screamed at the deep reach he now had.

"Oh, yes, yes!" she gasped, "Please keep fucking me, doctor!"

He gave her what seemed to be a pained smile, "I don't think that is the problem, pet." she moaned. "It's stopping I fear for." he thrusted, once, twice, three times–and then there was a warm watery liquid being sprayed inside her. She yelped in surprise.

He had cum and given her absolutely no warning.

When she expected him to stop however he didn't. He was still hard and still pounding at her pussy like a madman.

"Mmm, what's happening?" she moaned.

"I..hngf, I am quite built up," he spoke, his brows were furrowed and he was giving her fast shallow strokes now. "I predict I will need to ejaculate 4 times before we can complete this session."

"4 times?" she questioned bewildered, then her back arched and she could feel the familiar ache in her abdomen, "why so many?"

"I cannot fertilize you until I am completely spent," he explained clinically. The air whooshed out of Sienna. She remembered her purpose here. Baby-maker.

"Wait–" she spoke panicked, still breathless any whiny, "You can't do that! I don't want to be pregnant!"

He stroked her cheeks with his top hands, "Calm now, pet." he crooned, "I assure you I will take very good care of you during your gestation."

"But doctor!" she wailed, her legs were locking again and her thighs began to tremble, "I-I don't want–Ah!" she screamed, releasing once again. Pushing his long cock out momentarily before he forced himself back in. He groaned and once again she was filled more with that cool watery substance that leaked out of her along with what she produced.

Sienna's eyes rolled back and all the fight in her had vanished. She was far away from this room now. Far away from Dr. Xorad and only concerned about her aching pussy that still craved another release.

She laid there limply while Xorad kept pushing. Her body jerked, being shifted up and down as he worked above her. She could do nothing but take it.

There was a gentle squeaking sound mixed in with everything as the metal examination table she was on was completely covered in their fluids and her skin was rubbing against the material.

"Nearly there, pet," he murmured. "This will all be over soon."

She wasn't sure if she wanted it to be over.

"Then you can take a nice rest."

Oh.

Well, that did sound nice considering her eyes were beginning to fall heavy. Of course, she couldn't sleep. But she could do little more than whine and slowly roll her hips to meet Xorad's.

His top hands were squeezing her breasts and teasing at her nipples while his bottom hands gripped her thighs. He did all the moving for her, pulling her back and forth on his cock. She was like his personal fuck toy.

From everything she had heard about the experiment, baby, and assimilation, that statement seemed to be far more accurate than she originally thought.

Another blast of watery liquid flooded through her and she groaned. Dr. Xorad momentarily collapsed atop her. His head resting on her chin. She absently stroked his bald head.

He purred.

"Turn for me," he murmured, seemingly tired in his own right as his voice was turning lazy.

Sienna had no idea what that meant until he was pulling out of her. A gush of fluid came out when was unplugged.

He gently moved her onto her hands and knees and Sienna wasn't so sure she could maintain this position for very long but she had always liked doggy more than missionary so she would try.

"I've seen humans do it this way as well." he says, running a hand over her ass, squeezing it, "Is this suitable for you, pet?"

"Yes…" she sighed, "It's very suitable."

"Good."

She nearly fell face forward when the examination table began to lower. She looked around and realized Dr. Xorad had pulled a level so his cock could be at an equal level with her hole.

Neat.

He aligned himself with her, then, slid home. She moaned roughly, backing up against him, impaling herself. She rocked back and forth on his cock and he began to breath heavily.

"This is not how I saw it done," he murmurs.

Sienna moaned, "This is how I like it." she arched and unarched her back, controlling the pace this time. She was steady and a little weaker than usual but she felt more awake now that he was so deeply buried inside her.

"This will be good for insemination," he seemed to be thinking the same thing, "my eggs will be buried deep inside you."

"Shuddap." she slurred. He was ruining the moment for her.

"Hm." he hummed, not seeming to be offended but not amused either.

They moved together.

"Pull on my hair." she murmured, "I like that, and…grip my hips."

Dr. Xorad did exactly as she asked and Sienna moved faster, the alien behind her groaned. Praising her in his hissed language. It made Sienna feel like she was more than mediocre at sex, it made her feel like a pornstar.

She didn't mind fucking an alien so much.

At least not until he started bucking against her and dug his sharp nails into her hips.

"Oh!" she exclaimed.

He growled with a thrust. Moving so fast against her she could barely even feel him inside because of how slick she was. The only thing that told her he was still inside were the ridges that scraped against her inner walls

Finally, something seemed to snap in the doctor, he let out a long drawn-out hiss and he slumped forward. He was pressing against her back as he let out a high whine. He was cumming again, but this time it was not the watery liquid she had grown familiar with.

This time, she filled her up in a completely unnatural way.

She was being inseminated.

It was overwhelming, the eggs he was talking about putting inside her were pulsing in their own right and she could feel them travelling inside of her. They rubbed and scrubbed around her walls and her eyes rolled back as she too slumped forward.

She fell belly first against the table, twitching as she was being impregnated.

"That's it, pet." he slurred, "you're going to be a wonderful host."

Host. Dear god, what had she done?

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This is fucking hilarious, I believe it. Ratio lore has been under our noses this entire time

COULD VERITAS RATIO BE A WORM?

the answer 😏 may surprise you

ok listen to me. a long time ago aha made a worm really smart and tried to get it into the genius society. but even though that worm was smart as hell, nous did not give a fuck about it.

you know who else is smart as hell but nous doesnt give a fuck about?

heh. yeah. thats right. despite many people (including himself) feeling like nous should have recognized him a loooong time ago, that computer just doesn’t care.

now, we are left to wonder… why does nous refuse to acknowledge this man..?

i think it’s quite obvious.

my theory is that aha made a second worm really smart. and Then they made the worm into a sexy guy.

and now they’re outside nous’s window, giggling, as everyone in the universe ponders why veritas ratio is not permitted into the genius society.

“what’s wrong, nous? he’s a genius, isn’t he? let him in,” aha goads.

nous is glitching in frustration. “it’s the worm again. i know it’s the worm again.”

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(may 27th)

Save a displaced Gazan Family (@ranibra) - Rania is married with five children, her husband needs medical care. She is now responsible to save her children. Help them evacuate.

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Do not scroll past this list without contributing. This list makes it easy for you to find a fundraiser to support. Choose at least one. Your contribution will save lives. If you cannot donate, share these campaigns.

FIND MORE CAMPAIGNS HERE

aventurine has an unconscious habit of 'buying' your love. he doesn't mean to, but it comes naturally to him. credits are secretly transferred to your account, gifts left on the table with your name and a heart on the note beside it, your credit card in your drawer while his sits in your wallet, the numerous times he has brought home shiny, expensive things in hopes you would excuse or overlook something he has done or failed or do.

he can't help it. if aventurine doesn't buy you anything or spend credits on you or transfer some (at least 200k at a time) to your account, he feels like he's not doing enough. assuring him that you only need his time and attention and words fails to help, yet you continue to do relentlessly in hope that something would go through that beautiful skull of his.

until then, you'll make sure to check which credit card is in your wallet, keep track of how many credits he sends, and bring him shiny trinkets you know he'll like. until he realises you do not want his money that way and that relationships can be fostered without the involvement of credits, you'll play his game. at least his reaction to receiving a gift from you is cute (if the blush as deep as the magenta in his eyes is anything to go by)