Mass Effect Self Insert Fanfiction Novels & Stories

I remembered the walk in smeared edits—mist, adrenaline, a voice folding around me like a crown. Your Majesty. Had I dreamed that part? If it was real, a king had carried me. If it wasn’t, great. My brain had decided my trauma needed fanfic. I pushed upright. Sixteen formal complaints were filed by my body. The room steadied after a wobble. Everything felt too bright and too quiet—the world after a laugh that lasted too long. The door voices blurred again—“council,” “Elena,” a word with teeth that needed no translation: “war.”

Guards flanked them on both sides, their weapons gleaming faintly in the darkness. The lead woman rushed forward, her face tight with worry. "My Lady, we've been searching for you all night. Where have you been?" My future self smiled warmly, and I felt my lips curve without my consent. The expression felt natural on my face, like I'd made it a thousand times before. *So this is what Elias created,* I thought, watching from inside my own head. *He didn't just destroy the world completely—he rewrote it completely. Made it feel like it was always this way.*

I wanted to close the distance between us and crush my mouth against his, taste the coffee on his lips while my hands roamed those hard muscles. The rush of desire hit like a punch, forcing a frustrated sigh from my lips. I raked a hand through my messy hair, cursing under my breath. “For fuck's sake.” muttered to myself. This push-pull was maddening, my cock twitching at the memory of him buried deep inside me, even as I seethed. How long could I fight this before it dragged me under again?

This wasn't me pretending to be confident, I am confident because of those words. "Touch yourself." He authorised. Honestly, I did not know what to do, I simply just trusted myself. I led my hand to my clit and use my thumb to massage it like he did last time. My other hand kept playing with my nipple. I picked up the pace, a quiet moan escaped my lips. I closed my eyes, all I saw and fantasize about was Marco. In desperate need for a release, I insert two fingers inside me, I pump into my self back and forth. The sensation made my back arch and tilt my head to rest on the bed frame. I fantasize about the way he would hold me, spin me around and fuck me hard. I could feel myself getting clos

The video on the screen has looped back to my own face mid-chorus, mouth shaping the word *devil* over a photo of Rafael’s smile. Dante taps the space bar. The room goes silent. “So,” I say. “You’ve seen my fanfiction.” His jaw tightens. “That is not your fanfiction,” he says. “It’s a revisionist history starring a man who didn’t pay your freedom price.” “Our marriage certificate doesn’t make you a better man than him,” I shoot back. “Just a richer one.” “Maybe,” he says. “But it does make me the one who has to manage the fallout when the world decides you belong to someone else.”

Then I crawl into bed, staring at the dying flowers on my desk, only to find they are fresh again. The daisy sticks out more prominent than the other wildflowers and feels warmth in my chest. I feel betrayed and angry at Maddox and used by Kohen. Do I even know these boys at all? Am I truly that bad at judging characters? And if I am, could I ever truly be a good enough Alpha? I push myself up off the bed. My feet moving to the curtains, flinging them back open as I step onto my balcony and stare into the distance.

I was planning on enjoying the last days, but I was trapped in the ward. All of a sudden, the system's desperate mechanical voice sounded in my head. "Host, you were scammed!" Before I could ask what was going on, the system told me everything. "The affection levels of your three targets were all very high, but Wendy has two threads of affection. She can transfer others' affection to herself. Therefore, the affection of your targets would be drastically suppressed." I mumbled, "Threads of affection?"

“Then why are you staring like starving men?” I slid my hand between my legs and started circling my clit slowly, letting out a soft moan. Their eyes tracked every movement like predators watching prey. “You didn’t touch anyone at the club, did you?” I pushed two fingers inside myself, my back arching. My voice came out breathless. “You couldn’t. Because none of them is me. None of them make you feel like this.” Brandon’s laugh was dark. “You’re so full of yourself. We could replace you tomorrow and never think about you again.”

But now it was like all of his worse features had been amplified. Irritating. Damn it. I slammed my elbows onto the communications kiosk, burying my face in my hands. What was I going to do? Now that Cyrus was completely fixated on Mads, he was going to be on my ass about my amante de la sangre every chance he got.

How long could I fight these feelings inside me? Lucian’s Pov I sat in my study, staring at the security camera feed from Aurora’s room. The screen showed her tossing and turning in bed, her hand moving under the covers. My jaw clenched tight. I gripped the desk hard, my body reacting strongly to the sight of her. “Fuck, Aurora,” I whispered to myself. Watching her touch herself because of me, was driving me insane. I knew I was the reason for her confusion and tears. Every touch, every almost-kiss was me fighting my obsession with her.