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Gamma Heart: My life as a She-Hulk
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My Therapist is a She-Hulk
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The "What if?" Series
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MILF-HULK
7 deviations
Literature
MILF-HULK Series Synopsis
Amy Saget is a brilliant 45-year-old scientist, single mother, and keeper of a dangerous secret. When triggered by stress, fear, or arousal, she transforms into the MILF-HULK—a towering green goddess of lust and power. Each transformation is both a curse and a craving, pushing her to the brink of losing her identity to the pleasure-hungry alter ego inside her.
As Amy struggles to control the monster within, her past comes back to haunt her—literally. A gamma-irradiated rock she once mishandled during lab testing turns out to have infected not just her, but her teenage daughter Brandi, too. Now 19, Brandi secretly lives with her own transformation burden, becoming the fierce and impulsive “Hulkette.”
When Amy meets Kevin, a 20-year-old college student, something strange happens: her Hulk form hesitates. Drawn to him emotionally and sexually, she finds herself able to feel arousal without transforming—until her Hulk persona begins to resist emotional commitment.
Tensions rise as
MILF_HULK Stories
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College of Gammazons Gallery
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College of Gammazons Stories
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Tsuki-Hulk
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My She-Hulk Wishes Stories
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My She-Hulk Wishes
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Character Spotlight
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She Hulks
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Full Moom High and Weres
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Guest Art and Trade
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Literature
My Therapist is a She-Hulk: Chapter 4
Chapter 4: The Cracked Mask
Randell didn’t knock this time.
His hand hovered over the door, hesitating for a beat before he gave up on the formality. She already knew he’d be there. She always did.
The door creaked open.
There she was.
Dr. Elizabeth Blackwell. Composed. Poised. Maybe too poised. Her dark emerald blouse clung just a little too tightly to her frame today, the top button threatening to rebel. Her black slacks were sharp, her heels precise. Her hair was in a flawless bun, every strand in place like it had been scolded into obedience.
But the part that caught him wasn’t any of that.
It was the faint sheen of her skin just below her neckline. Not quite green. Not quite gold. A whisper of both, like tension had become color.
“Randell,” she said, her voice even. “On time again.”
He stepped in. “I get the feeling you’re the type who watches the second hand.”
“Control tends to favor precision,” she replied, motioning for him to sit.
He did. “Even when
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