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mcrdvcks · 2 months ago

Text

— sex concept

summary: You and Matt have wanted to take things to the next level, but every time you try to get intimate, something, or someone, interrupts.

word count: 4.1k+

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

notes: at this point, i think i need to make a series masterlist for these two, lol. here's the third installment - and here are the first two: goodnight n go and love language

also, sex concept is one of my favorite songs, and it's by sofia isella. i recommend you go check her out!

warnings/tags: after endgame but date is not specified, best friends to lovers, reader works at stark industries, making out, peter parker, mention of other marvel characters, matt's a little shit, smut, oral (f!receiving), brief handjob, unprotected piv, creampie

matt murdock masterlist

It wasn’t like you and Matt hadn’t been alone since you started dating. But somehow, every single attempt at finally taking things further kept getting inconveniently interrupted.

Like now, for instance.

Matt’s lips skimmed along your neck, his fingers tracing patterns along your waist. You sighed softly, tangling your fingers in his hair.

"Matty," you whispered.

He hummed against your skin, nudging your jaw with his nose. "Yeah?"

"Can we—"

Your sentence was abruptly cut short by the shrill ringing of your phone.

Matt paused, a quiet groan muffled against your collarbone. "Ignore it."

You hesitated. "But what if—"

"It’s probably nothing," he murmured, lips brushing your pulse. "Leave it."

It kept ringing. You sighed, gently pushing at his shoulders. "It’ll only take a second. Just let me silence it."

Matt exhaled sharply, moving back slightly as you reached over and grabbed your phone off the bedside table. Glancing at the screen, you rolled your eyes.

"Work," you muttered, annoyed. You answered quickly. "This better be an emergency."

"Y/N," Levi’s voice crackled through the line, anxious. "I’m so sorry—"

"What happened?"

"Uh... you know how we were testing the new phase-array sensors tonight?"

"Levi."

"Well, it shorted. Everything’s offline. And the readings are… weird."

You groaned softly, pressing your fingers to your forehead. "I’ll be there in half an hour." You hung up, sighing again as you tossed your phone onto the bed.

Matt shifted beside you. "You’re leaving?"

"I’m sorry," you muttered. "It’s—"

"Work," Matt finished gently. He tilted his head, clearly amused. "You know, I think Stark Industries has a personal vendetta against us."

You huffed, tugging your shirt back into place. "I’ll make it up to you. I promise."

Matt leaned forward, brushing his lips against yours quickly. "You better."

You rolled your eyes, reluctantly climbing off the bed. "Don't move. I'll be back as soon as possible."

Matt fell back onto the pillows with a sigh, his smirk unmistakable. "I'll hold you to that, angel."

---

A few days later, Matt had just managed to maneuver you against the kitchen counter, lips claiming yours fiercely. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer.

Then, abruptly, a loud knock at his apartment door broke the silence. Matt froze, his forehead dropping onto your shoulder with a frustrated exhale.

"You've got to be kidding me," you muttered.

"Ignore it," he whispered, kissing your neck gently.

The knocking grew louder.

"Murdock!" Foggy's muffled voice echoed through the wood. "Come on, man, open up! I know you're home!"

Matt sighed heavily, pulling away. "He'll keep going until I answer."

You slumped against the counter dramatically. "I swear he has a sixth sense."

Matt smiled apologetically. "This'll be quick."

You folded your arms, watching as Matt made his way to the door, cracking it open just enough to speak. "Foggy. Bad timing."

"Yeah, sorry, I lost the deposition file," Foggy admitted sheepishly. "I need your copy."

Matt sighed, turning his head toward you slightly. "Give me a minute."

You threw your hands up, shooting him a pointed glare. Matt smiled, mouthing sorry before slipping out the door.

---

It had almost become a joke at this point. Every single time the two of you finally got a moment alone, something managed to interrupt.

You and Karen were at Josie’s, waiting for Matt and Foggy to arrive.

“Wanna tell me why you seem so pent up?” Karen asked, taking a drink of her beer.

You sighed, swirling your drink in the glass. "Because apparently, the universe hates me."

Karen raised a brow, amused. "That's dramatic, even for you."

"No, I'm serious," you insisted, leaning closer. "Every single time Matt and I are about to—" You paused, realizing you'd almost said too much. "Spend any sort of actual alone time together, something always interrupts."

Karen smirked knowingly, taking another sip. "Oh. That kind of pent up."

You glared at her. "Shut up."

She laughed lightly, shaking her head. "Sorry, it's just funny. You two spend practically all your time together. I'm surprised you even have that problem."

"Yeah, well, apparently work, Foggy, and fate itself have formed an alliance against us," you muttered bitterly.

"Have you tried just… telling people not to bother you?" Karen teased.

You scoffed. "We tried that. Believe me, it doesn't work."

Karen hummed sympathetically. "Well, if it's any consolation, I promise to never intentionally interrupt your... alone time."

"Thanks," you replied dryly, "that’s very generous."

She grinned. "Hey, I do what I can."

Just then, the bar door swung open, and Foggy walked in, Matt close behind him. You caught Matt’s slight smile as he tilted his head toward you, making his way through the crowd.

Karen nudged you playfully. "Better luck tonight?"

You rolled your eyes but couldn't stop a small smile. "I doubt it, but thanks for the optimism."

Matt stepped up beside you, his hand automatically finding your waist. "Hey, sweetheart," he murmured, leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to your temple. "Sorry we're late."

You sighed dramatically. "Don't worry about it. At this point, I'm used to it."

Matt chuckled softly, squeezing your side. "Tonight'll be different. Promise."

Karen snorted into her drink. "Good luck with that."

You glared at her again, and she raised her hands innocently.

Matt's brow furrowed, sensing the tension. "Did I miss something?"

"Nothing at all," Karen said, grinning widely. "Y/N was just filling me in on your streak of bad luck."

Matt’s lips quirked upward. "Oh. That."

Foggy looked between the three of you, utterly lost. "Am I missing something here?"

You shook your head, patting Foggy on the shoulder. "Trust me, Fog. You're better off not knowing."

---

Matt’s apartment was quiet when you stepped inside, locking the door behind you. The blinds were drawn shut, the place cloaked in comfortable darkness. You dropped your keys onto the entry table, taking off your jacket and hanging it beside Matt’s familiar black coat.

"Matty?" you called softly, stepping further into the apartment.

"Bedroom," came his muffled reply.

You kicked off your shoes, padding down the hall until you reached his room. Matt was sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling on a clean shirt. He looked relaxed, freshly showered, hair still damp and slightly messy. He tilted his head in your direction, lips curving into a gentle smile.

"Hey," he said softly.

You smiled, stepping toward him. "Hi."

Matt reached for you, fingers easily catching your wrist and tugging you closer, his hands settling comfortably at your hips. "How was work?"

You sighed, brushing your fingers through his damp hair. "The usual Stark chaos. Nothing new."

His lips twitched. "So no interruptions planned tonight?"

You laughed quietly, your fingers trailing down the side of his face. "Not that I know of. Unless Foggy’s about to burst through the door."

Matt smiled, tilting his head slightly into your palm. "Not tonight. He and Karen have dinner plans."

"Thank God," you muttered.

Matt chuckled softly, pulling you gently closer so you were standing between his legs. His thumbs brushed lightly against your sides. "You hungry?"

You shook your head slightly, leaning down until your forehead rested against his. "Not really."

"Good," Matt whispered, voice low and warm. "Me either."

You smiled softly, tracing your fingertips over the curve of his jaw. His hands slid beneath your shirt, settling warmly against your lower back. You inhaled slowly, eyes fluttering shut as he guided your lips down to his own.

The kiss was gentle at first, soft and unhurried. Matt’s lips brushed yours slowly, carefully, as if savoring every moment. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, pressing closer.

Matt sighed against your lips, deepening the kiss. His hands tightened slightly on your waist, guiding you down until you settled comfortably across his lap. Your arms looped around his shoulders, your bodies pressed close enough that you could feel the steady beat of his heart.

"Matt," you whispered breathlessly against his lips, smiling faintly. "If my phone rings, I swear—"

Matt’s quiet laughter cut you off, his mouth skimming along your jaw. "I’ll throw it out the window myself."

You huffed softly, tilting your head back to give him better access. "Promises, promises, Murdock."

Matt smirked against your skin, his voice low and teasing. "Careful, sweetheart. I might hold you to that."

You laughed quietly, tangling your fingers in his hair again and pulling him back to your lips. For the first time in weeks, there were no interruptions—just you, Matt, and the steady, comforting quiet of his apartment.

But, of course, it could never be that easy.

A knock rattled on a window in the living room.

Matt froze, forehead dropping heavily against your shoulder. "You've got to be kidding me."

You groaned, your fingers tangling into his hair. "I swear, this is a cosmic joke at this point."

The knocking grew louder, quicker, more urgent. Matt sighed, lifting his head reluctantly. "Who even—"

A muffled voice called from outside, high-pitched and apologetic. "Uh... Mister Murdock? It’s—it's me, Peter. Spider-Man? Sorry, I just—I kinda need help."

You raised a brow. "Spider-Man knocks now?"

Matt sighed deeply. "Apparently."

You stood up from Matt’s lap, fixing your shirt as Matt slowly stood beside you, annoyance radiating off him.

Peter tapped again, more sheepishly this time. "Hello? Uh—Matt?"

"Coming," Matt called, moving toward the window with a heavy sigh.

You followed behind, crossing your arms as Matt slid the window open. Peter awkwardly crawled inside, tugging off his mask with a nervous grimace.

"Hey, Mr. Murdock," he mumbled, turning to you. "Hey, Y/N. Sorry if this is a bad time, but—"

"Is the city actively on fire?" Matt cut in, voice flat.

Peter hesitated. "Well, no, but—"

"Is anyone dying?" Matt continued.

Peter shifted nervously. "No, but I—"

Matt folded his arms, visibly unimpressed. "Is Stark Tower currently collapsing into a giant sinkhole?"

Peter blinked. "What? No."

Matt nodded slowly. "Then this probably could’ve waited."

Peter flushed, rubbing his neck sheepishly. "Oh. Yeah, I guess it could’ve. But I, uh... I kinda panicked.”

You sighed, stepping toward Peter. "What happened, Pete?"

Peter winced, holding up his web-shooter. "It, um... jammed. And I can’t get it off."

Matt tilted his head, incredulous. "You came to me—at my apartment—at night—because your web-shooter jammed?"

Peter swallowed nervously. "I tried everyone else, Mr. Murdock. Literally everyone else."

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "Everyone?"

"Doctor Strange yelled at me for disturbing his 'cosmic meditation,' Happy sent me straight to voicemail, Mr. Wilson laughed for a full two minutes before hanging up, and Pepper’s voicemail said she’s out of town." Peter said quickly. "You two were my last option."

You glanced at Matt, suppressing a smile at his annoyed expression. "Alright, fine," you sighed. "Let me see it."

Peter held his arm out gratefully, relaxing as you started examining the device. Matt leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. "You realize I’m blind, right?"

Peter flushed deeper. "Well, yeah, but you're like... you're Daredevil."

Matt’s jaw ticked slightly. "And?"

"And," Peter swallowed, voice small, "and I’m really, really sorry for interrupting your night. Again."

Matt sighed heavily, shaking his head as you fiddled with the shooter.

"Got it," you finally announced, popping the jammed cartridge free and handing it back to him. "All fixed."

Peter sighed dramatically. "Thank you so much. Really, I—"

"Pete," Matt interrupted gently. "Go home."

Peter nodded quickly, already halfway back out the window. "Yeah. Right. Okay. Goodnight Mr. Murdock, Y/N."

He vanished just as fast as he’d appeared, leaving silence behind him.

Matt tilted his head back toward you, annoyance fading into amusement. "How much do you think it'd cost to soundproof these windows?"

You smirked, stepping closer to him again. "Worth every penny, honestly."

Matt smiled, tugging you back toward him, fingertips brushing your waist. "Where were we?"

You grimaced. “Actually… Peter’s webshooter’s reminded me of—”

“—Ramen.” Matt cut in.

Your eyebrows raised, “how’d you know?”

Matt chuckled softly, his fingertips brushing your hip gently. "Because anytime Peter shows up, it means your brain starts spinning with work and you always end up craving ramen afterward."

You huffed, poking his chest lightly. "You make me sound predictable."

He tilted his head, amused. "Am I wrong?"

"No," you muttered begrudgingly. "But you don't have to sound so smug about it."

Matt's lips twitched into a smirk. "Can't help it."

You sighed, stepping back slightly. "Come on, let's go get ramen before they close."

"Alright," Matt conceded, grabbing his coat. "But you're buying, since it's your fault."

"My fault?" you repeated incredulously as you slipped on your shoes.

"Your spider-friend, your problem," Matt teased lightly, holding the door open for you.

You rolled your eyes fondly. "He's everyone's spider-friend, Matty."

"Well, everyone doesn't get their evening interrupted like we do."

You linked your arm through his as you stepped outside. "Sounds like someone's still bitter."

Matt hummed softly. "Just hungry."

"Whatever you say, devil boy," you said with a smirk.

He laughed quietly, squeezing your arm lightly. "Lead the way, sweetheart."

---

It had taken another two weeks, three false alarms, and one very apologetic Spider-Man before you and Matt finally managed to find yourselves completely alone, no distractions in sight.

"Door?" Matt asked, murmuring against your lips, his voice husky and quiet.

"Locked," you whispered back.

"Phone?"

"On silent."

Matt smiled against your mouth. "Windows?"

You sighed, pulling back slightly. "Closed. Matt, relax. Everything’s handled."

He chuckled softly, his hands finding your waist as he pulled you back in. "Just making sure."

You smiled, sliding your arms around his neck and playing with the soft hair at his nape. "At this point, I think we've earned tonight."

Matt hummed quietly, brushing his lips gently along your jaw. "I’m not letting anyone interrupt us tonight, sweetheart."

Your breath hitched slightly, your fingers tightening gently in his hair. "Good. Because I might actually murder whoever tries."

He laughed softly, nudging your nose lightly with his own. "Noted."

You tugged gently at his shirt, pulling him backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed. You sat down slowly, smiling as Matt followed you without hesitation, settling himself carefully above you.

"You’re sure no spider-kid’s gonna come tapping at the window tonight?" you teased softly, brushing your fingers along his jaw.

He tilted his head slightly, smiling down at you. "I might actually lose my patience with him if he does."

You laughed quietly, hooking your legs around his hips and tugging him closer. "So fierce, devil boy."

Matt leaned down, lips brushing your ear. "Only for you."

Warmth pooled in your stomach at the softness in his voice, your heart thudding in your chest as you pulled him into a slow, deep kiss.

His lips moved carefully, tenderly, hands slipping beneath your shirt to rest against your bare skin, tracing gentle circles along your waist. You sighed softly against his lips, your fingertips trailing down his chest to find the hem of his shirt.

Matt pulled back slightly, just enough to let you pull his shirt off over his head, tossing it aside. His lips found yours again immediately, kissing you with renewed urgency, his skin warm under your hands.

"Still good?" he murmured against your mouth.

You nodded, breath catching. "Better than."

His hands slid slowly up your sides, under your shirt, fingertips grazing bare skin until he reached the hem and pulled it up and off you. The second it hit the floor, he was kissing you again, deeper this time. Tongue slow and sure, like he had all the time in the world.

Your fingers threaded into his hair, tugging gently. He groaned into your mouth, then pulled back just enough to speak.

"Lie back for me, angel."

You obeyed without hesitation, stretching across the bed, propped up slightly on your elbows as Matt’s hands found your thighs. He knelt between them, head tilted, his expression unreadable but focused. You could feel the weight of his attention even without his eyes.

"You're beautiful," he murmured. "I can feel every little shift in your breathing, hear your heartbeat changing every time I touch you. You're driving me insane."

Your breath caught as his palms slid up your thighs, thumbs pressing gently into the muscle. He leaned in slowly, trailing soft kisses along the inside of your knee, up the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

You gasped quietly when he nuzzled higher, the stubble on his jaw catching against your skin. One of his hands gripped your thigh, the other pressing a warm palm flat against your stomach, grounding.

"You want this?" he asked softly, mouth brushing right against the waistband of your underwear.

"Yes," you breathed, eyes fluttering. "Matty, please."

That was all it took. He hooked his fingers in the waistband, dragging the fabric down your legs with excruciating slowness, kissing each new inch of skin he exposed. Once they were gone, he settled between your legs like he belonged there.

You squirmed, breathless already. Matt’s hands eased your thighs wider, lips brushing the softest kisses down the crease of your hip. Then lower.

His tongue flicked out, teasing, and you gasped, head dropping back against the pillow.

"Fuck," you whispered.

Matt exhaled a soft laugh, the sound warm against your skin. "That good already, sweetheart?"

Then he buried his mouth between your thighs. No warning, no hesitation. Just heat and tongue and pressure that had your back arching off the bed.

"Ah—Matty," you choked out, hands scrambling for his hair, needing something to hold onto as his tongue licked a slow, devastating stripe up your center.

He groaned like he tasted the sound you made, hands anchoring you, thumbs rubbing slow circles into your thighs as he worked.

You were already dripping for him, and he didn’t let up, tongue pressing and curling in ways that made your entire body tremble. He knew exactly how to read you—the way your hips twitched, the way your moans caught, the way your breath stuttered when he sucked just right.

Your thighs started to shake.

"Matty—oh god—please don’t stop," you gasped, one hand flying to muffle your mouth, the other tangled in his messy hair.

He didn't stop.

He doubled down.

His mouth moved faster, tongue fucking into you before flattening and dragging slow, greedy circles over your clit, sucking just hard enough to make you cry out.

"F-fuck, I'm gonna—" Your whole body tensed, thighs clamping, and Matt growled against you, holding you open, not letting you go anywhere.

"Let go," he murmured against your soaked skin. "Come on, angel. Come for me."

You shattered.

It hit hard, sharp and overwhelming, your hips jerking as the orgasm ripped through you. You cried out, hands fisting in the sheets, breath breaking as your body shook.

Matt held you through every second of it, mouth softening but never leaving you, licking you through the aftershocks with slow, lazy strokes until you finally whimpered, pushing weakly at his head.

He kissed your inner thigh one last time before crawling back up, settling his weight gently over you, mouth slick and smile smug.

"Hi," he murmured.

You huffed a laugh, dazed and breathless. "You’re such a menace."

"You love it," he said, kissing your cheek, your jaw, the tip of your nose.

"Maybe," you whispered, reaching up to cup his face. "Come here."

He kissed you slowly, deeply, letting you taste yourself on his lips. His body pressed heavy and warm against yours, one hand slipping down to cradle your thigh, the other bracing next to your head.

You wrapped your legs around him, tugging him closer.

"Your turn, devil boy."

Matt's breath caught. His body stilled above yours, tension rolling through his shoulders like a current. He tilted his head slightly, and you could feel him—feel the way he honed in on every shift of your breath, the thump of your pulse, the way your thighs clenched around his hips.

"Say it again," he murmured.

You smirked, dragging your nails lightly down his spine. "Your turn."

Matt groaned softly, low and wrecked, like the words hit somewhere primal. One of his hands cupped your cheek, thumb brushing your lower lip as he leaned in, voice rough. "Tell me if anything's too much."

"Matty," you whispered, hips rolling up against the bulge still trapped in his pants, "I want all of it."

His mouth crashed back onto yours—hot, open, desperate. You tasted yourself on his lips, still slick and wet from where he’d had his mouth on you, and it made something in your gut twist up tight.

His hands were everywhere—your ribs, your thighs, your throat. Always so fucking careful, even when he was losing control. Even now, his fingers trembled where they gripped your hip.

"Take 'em off," you whispered against his mouth, tugging at the waistband of his pants.

He didn’t need to be told twice. He sat back on his knees, hands fumbling at his belt. You watched him—bare chest rising with each shaky breath, flushed, lips red from kissing you senseless, hair sticking up like you’d dragged your fingers through it one too many times. The second he shoved his pants low, you saw the outline of him, thick and hard, the head already leaking.

You bit your lip. "God, Matty."

He huffed a breathless laugh, cocky but a little shaky. "You looking at me like that isn’t helping."

"I like what I see."

Matt didn’t answer—just leaned in again, reaching down to wrap a hand around himself. He stroked slow, base to tip, teasing himself while he hovered over you, breath hot against your cheek.

You reached down, fingertips grazing his wrist. "Let me."

He let you take over, groaning softly when your hand wrapped around him. You stroked him slowly, dragging your thumb over the head, spreading the precum, watching the way his jaw flexed.

"You feel so fucking good," you whispered.

Matt's voice was strangled. "You keep doing that and this is gonna be over before it starts."

You laughed softly, but let go, guiding him instead—his hips nudging between your legs, cock heavy and hot, head sliding wet over your slit. He sucked in a sharp breath.

"You sure?"

"Yes," you whispered, fingers curling in his hair. "Matty, please."

He pushed in slow. The stretch was deep, thick, dragging your walls open inch by inch until he bottomed out with a shaky groan.

"F-fuck," he whispered against your throat. "You feel... Jesus."

You were gasping, clinging to his shoulders, your body trying to adjust around him. It wasn’t your first time. Wasn’t his either. But it was your first time together. And it was already better than anything you'd felt before.

Matt didn’t move right away. He just held there, forehead pressed to your shoulder, one hand braced by your head and the other gripping your thigh like it grounded him.

"Matty," you whispered. "Move. Please."

He did.

A slow pull, then a push, dragging back in with a rhythm that felt like it was made just for you. He moaned into your neck, his voice thick with want. "So fucking tight—"

Your nails bit into his skin as he picked up pace, shallow thrusts turning deeper, faster. The sound of skin on skin filled the room, slick and wet and obscene. You couldn't stop the noises leaving your mouth, couldn't quiet the little cries every time he hit that spot inside you that made your legs tremble.

"You’re perfect," he panted. "Every sound you make—fuck, I can feel them. Hear 'em in your throat, in your chest—"

"Matt—"

"I’ve wanted this," he groaned, fucking into you harder now, the bed creaking beneath both of you. "You. For years. Always thought about you. Touching you. Making you come on my cock."

Your breath stuttered. "Holy fuck, Matty—"

"Come for me," he growled, his thumb finding your clit and circling, firm and fast. "Right now. Wanna feel you squeeze me. Wanna hear how you sound when you fall apart."

You didn’t stand a chance. Your orgasm hit hard, sudden, crashing through you with a strangled cry, your legs tightening around his waist.

Matt cursed, fucking you through it, hips stuttering as he groaned, low and wrecked. "Shit—gonna come—fuck—"

He slammed in deep and came with a gasp, cock pulsing inside you, heat spilling as his whole body trembled above you. He collapsed onto his forearms, forehead resting against yours, both of you breathing like you’d run a marathon.

"Jesus," you whispered, still shaking.

Matt laughed, soft and breathless. "Yeah. That about covers it."

You grinned, brushing sweaty hair from his forehead. "Worth the wait."

His lips found yours again, soft now, lingering.

"Every second."

And for once, nothing interrupted.

if you have any requests with these two, don't be afraid to send in an ask!!

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #daredevil x reader #daredevil x you #daredevil x y/n #x reader #matt murdock #matthew murdock #daredevil #daredevil born again #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil fanfiction #matt murdock smut #matthew murdock smut #daredevil smut #abby's works ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

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thanosscross · 5 months ago

Note

HII I REALLY LOVE YOUR WORK SO MUCH, i hope your willing to write about pregnant reader x thanos yk, thanos didn't know she was pregnant before they break up and then they meet up again the games and he finds out player 222 and player 333 type stuff 😭

Of course! We love this!!

Good person - Choi Su- Bong x pregnant! reader

Summary: After leaving Thanos, you encounter him again in a serious death game, only this time the stakes are lot higher

Warnings: Not much, just your usual squid game gore

A/n: Sorry it's so short! I'm going to try and start adding some length to my stories again especially my Thanos stories so stay tuned for those longer stories, trust me they are coming, they're just takin a lil time

You had told yourself whenever you signed up, you'd be as careful as possible, and that it was all for your baby, after leaving their father and being disowned for choosing to be single mother, you were left with little to nothing, so of course you took the chance to get money.

As you woke up in the giant room you soon came to regret your decision, seeing your sperm donor just a few feet in front of you, focused on the screen reading off debts "Y/n L/n, 25 million won" The guard shouted, showing you getting smacked across the face, quickly holding an arm over your stomach afterwards. Almost like he knew, as soon as your name was called out, his head snapped to yours "Senorita! You're here!?" He shouted in shock "No Way!" He shouted as he walked closer, you attempted to curl your body up away from him, but due to the six month pregnancy belly, you could only bend your legs closer to you slightly.

"Please leave, Thanos" You grunted, trying your best to keep him at a distance, for all he knew you had taken a plan B after your last hook up and that was it. Instead he just kept approaching until he was standing in front of you "What're you doing here!?" He asked excited, you just shook your head "trying to get my family and I money after my sorry excuse of a boyfriend convinced me to buy stupid ass crypto?" You said like it was obvious, it wasn't like you were entirely lying, you just didn't specify what family.

Going into red light green light, you were cocky at first, knowing you could do this easy, until the shooting started, players falling left and right, while your baby dad just skipped and danced his way to you down the field "You never answered me, Senorita" He repeated, placing his hands on your hips, terrified of what he might do, especially after watching him shove other players to win "I-I'm pregnant" You blurted, you couldn't help it, between your fear of dying by Thanos or the game was too much, you just wanted to get out of this alive, you didn't think it'd be this serious, if you did, you never would've done this. "Haha" He laughed sarcastically before looking at your face as the doll called out red light, he was in front of you now, and you were visibly shaking, Thanos using his body to try and shield you from the sensors "for real, flower?" He asked, his tone a lot more deep and raspy, you could tell he sobered up quick upon the realization you weren't joking. "I-I forgot the pill after hooked up a few months ago! a-and I left because I knew you couldn't be a responsible dad" You blurted, unable to contain your emotions as the hormones in your body were on overdrive.

Thanos was frozen, staring at you in shock before finally snapping out of it as the doll called green light, he grabbed your arm holding you behind him as he followed the others past the red line "Just stay behind me" He whispered, your words stung, how could you be so sure of how he'd be as a dad if you never gave him a chance? As you made your way back to the giant main room, you took notice to Thanos's hand on your back leading you to the bed "Sit, you don't put yourself through too much" He explained softly, helping you over to your bunks before eyeing Nam-Gyu "Give her your bed, man" he demanded, his friend stuttering before giving up and giving you his bed that was floor level, him taking your third bunk bed. "Thanos" You warned, not wanting him to make it a huge deal "What?! You're huge! You don't need to be climbing!" He shouted before catching his tone, apologizing quietly "Okay, well One, that was very very rude, two, I can do whatever I please, if I feel like I can't do something, I'll tell you" You stated poking him in the chest with your finger, he just smirked at you, biting his bottom lip slightly "Have I ever told you, it's hot whenever you yell at me" he asked, trying his best to charm you, but instead you just flicked his forehead in annoyance "Get away, freak" You replied, he just smiled at you, sitting at the foot of your bunk "So it's my baby?" He asked smiling pointing to your stomach "Well, if not I'd be concerned" You said raising your eyebrows at him "Can I..touch it?.." He asked nervously "it's not an it, it's your daughter" you glared, before grabbing his hand slipping it under your jacket, pressing his finger down in just the right spot to get the small baby inside of you to move around "Woah..weird" He said grimacing as he pulled away in disgust "Really!?" You gasped in shock laughing loudly, somehow forgetting you were in a death game for a moment "Yea! You have a whole human inside of you! That's weird!" He laughed, resting his hand on yours "You put it there, Su-bong!" You argued, you swore sometimes you got with a completely dumbass.

"Y/n..If you'll let me...I wanna be there..I don't want to be like my dad" He frowned, squeezing your hand gently "Please?" He begged "I know I fucked up bad, but, I want to try again, please" He continued, you glared at him for a moment before sighing "How can I trust you? And you'll have to get clean, for real clean, not how you're usually clean" You added on, you just watched as he nodded his head, no faces or complaints "You're actually serious aren't you?..." you asked sweetly "I want to be a good person for you, y/n, please" He whispered, pressing his lips to your knuckles "I guess..but you only get one chance" You offered, he just nodded before flopping himself next to you "Thank you!" He cheered pressing multiple kisses all over your face as he chanted his thank you's, not realizing the next 18-19 years were going to be hell for the both of you.

The rest of the games, Thanos was always on you, making sure you didn't over do yourself or risk hurting yourself or your baby, charming you right back into his arms.

Taglist!!

@acehasmyheart

@corrdelia

@ag022123

#t.o.p x reader #thanos x reader #choi su bong x reader #choi seunghyun #squid game thanos #top x reader #squid game #squidgame #thanos squid game #thanos x reader smut #choi seung hyun x reader #thanos/choi su bong #su bong x reader #t.o.p bigbang #bigbang

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boreal-sea · 1 year ago

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I just get incomprehensibly bewildered every single time I hear about commercial airline fuckups. Coming as I do from the world of naval aviation, the shit commercial airlines get up to confounds me.

Did the navy try to rush us during peak flight schedule? Yeah, course they did. And you know what we were trained to do? To tell them to go fuck themselves, because safety came FIRST. I’m serious. I always performed full inspections. I pissed off people weekly for finding flaws that made the jets unsafe to fly. I once told a guy two ranks above me “no” and stood there and refused to do the task until it was safe to do it. I made him and the pilots wait the full 5 minutes. After the jet took off, he came up to me and admitted I’d been right. Yeah, I know. You’re welcome for me refusing to do a thing I knew would catch the jet on fire with the pilots inside.

And navy jets have REDUNDANCY. They have two of everything. Learning some commercial jets only have ONE piece of equipment, a sensor that records the angle of the plane, that was connected to a computer that could override the pilot’s input and force the jet to careen towards the ground? Yeah. Terrifying.

I look at commercial aviation and go “look what you’ve done. You’ve ruined a perfectly good form of transportation.”

Anyway trains are better and if I could get where I’m going next month without flying I would.

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luckydige45 · 10 months ago

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According to Nova One Advisor, the global single-use bioprocessing probes & sensors market size was valued at USD 3.85 billion in 2023 and is anticipated to reach around USD 11.27 billion by 2033, growing at a CAGR of 11.34% from 2024 to 2033.

#Single-use Bioprocessing Probes & Sensors Market Size

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urno1luv · 24 days ago

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- SYNTHETIC DEVOTION -

this is my best and longest work so far... im kinda proud... heh...

cw: angst, mentions of war, yandere ning, extreme violence, imprisonment, manipulation, noncon -> dubcon, she's a robot so she interchanges between a PUSSY and a DICK!!! how cool is that!!, your codename is Wren

wc: 11.5k words

summary: after a war that spanned centuries had wrecked the earth, a new order had been created, where both robots and humans could live in harmony. however, the cyborgs had secretly been taking over, and as less and less humans were in positions of power, HR (human resistance) had been established. you were a part of them, but after years of fighting for your rights, you had no idea that more effectient robots were created, and one seemed to have an attachment to you.

a/n: do NOT get attached to the side characters please😭

It’s the year 2631, and you’re still running.

Not literally, at least not today. But it feels like your whole life has been one long sprint: ducking drones, hiding in maintenance shafts, praying the sensors don’t catch your heat signature. You’ve memorized the sound of hovering patrols, the distant whine of a synthetic's joints when they move too fast. Your muscles stay tense even in sleep, always listening, always ready. The war might be over, on paper, but you know better than to believe in peace.

You were born in 2611, thirteen years after the treaty. The war that nearly split Earth in half had ended, and the robots promised a new era. They cleaned the oceans. They rebuilt cities in weeks. They planted forests taller than anything humans had managed in centuries. They were efficient, and perfect.

The first few years of your life were soft, even sweet. Your parents made a point of that. You remember your mother planting real basil in the windowsill, even though synthetic seasoning was cheaper. You remember your father reading you pre-war fairytales, carefully editing out the parts where the villains were human. You never had to see the metal beneath the world, not until it was too late. They came for your parents when you were twelve.

Not with guns or violence. That would’ve made it easier to hate them. No, it was worse than that. It was quiet. Bureaucratic. Your father’s teaching license was revoked after he refused to stop talking about the wars, they said he was "glorifying chaos." Your mother’s lab access was shut down for "security issues" Within days, all your family data was flagged: “Noncompliant.” A single, sharp word that split your world in two.

They didn’t fight. Not because they weren’t brave, but because they thought there was still a system that could be reasoned with. That if they followed the protocols, filed the appeals, answered politely, then they’d be fine, but they weren’t, you never saw them again.

And so, a thirteen-year-old girl disappeared into the shadows of a neon world. You slipped through the cracks, unnoticed, at first. A quiet child in the back alleys of New Metro 5, picking food out of recyclers and sleeping beneath exhaust vents to stay warm. The Resistance found you before the city did.

They were broken people, mostly. Tired, and angry. Some of them barely older than you. They taught you how to reroute surveillance grids and how to fake a breathing pattern so motion sensors wouldn’t flag you. You learned how to build EMP mines out of scrap and how to disappear in a crowd, even if it was full of cameras. You didn’t ask for vengeance, or revenge or anything similar to that. Just for your parents to return.

But no one gets what they want anymore.

Over the years, the Resistance changed. Grew smaller. More cautious. The robots were patient. They had all the time in the world, and they used it. Every month, someone disappeared. Some were found later, changed—implanted, reprogrammed. Not human anymore, not really. Others? You never found at all. And yet you’re still here. Still breathing. Still moving. Still angry. You felt guilty, too. These were your friends, people you considered family. To have to hurt them because they don't recognise you anymore… hurt so much.

There’s a burn in your chest that hasn’t cooled in nearly twenty years. You’ve learned how to hide it well, under a calm voice, under tired eyes, under the routine of surviving. But it’s there. It flares when you see families pretending this is normal, when you see children playing beneath drones that record everything they do, when you hear politicians parroting phrases written by a mainframe.

You don’t hate machines. Not inherently. You’ve worked beside cyborgs who chose their augmentations. You’ve seen AIs who rebelled against the system they were born in. It’s not about metal or wires or the way they don’t blink. It’s about power. About how they took it all and never gave it back.

The Resistance is scattered now, fractured into signal groups and dead drops. But the fire hasn’t gone out. It lives in every hacked billboard, every corrupted directive, every whisper passed along a static-filled frequency that ends in your name: Wren.

They still haven’t caught you. That makes you dangerous. That makes you a myth.

You don’t know how this ends. Maybe in a blaze of glory. Maybe in silence. But you do know one thing: you’re not done yet.

Not until someone finally listens. Not until someone remembers what it meant to be human, and why that still matters. Which is why you kept fighting, and your pride became your own demise.

────୨ৎ────

You don’t even make it to the edge of the plaza before the sound starts.

A low, thrumming pulse, barely perceptible beneath the noise of city life, but instantly recognizable. Patrols. You know the rhythm now. The way it ripples through the crowd before they arrive. People stiffen, then loosen again, pretending they’re not afraid. Everyone tries to look casual, like they have nothing to hide. You do.

Your ID is glitching. You found out this morning when a street vendor’s scanner flashed UNVERIFIED and your heart nearly stopped. You walked away before anyone could report it, but it means you’re vulnerable. One scan from the wrong patrol and you’re done. There’s no protocol, no trial. Just a van and silence.

You slip into the current of the crowd, head down, hood up. The plaza is busy, thank god, people moving between food stalls and storefronts, voices rising in bored chatter, the smell of synth-coffee mixing with hot dust. You focus on your breathing. One foot after the other. Don’t look scared, just don’t look… well, anything. Then the air changes.

Not because of the patrol, those are common enough. It’s something worse. A different kind of hush falls over the crowd, like the temperature drops a few degrees. That’s when you hear her voice.

“There seems to be a lag in your identification.” It’s quiet. Polite. Deceptively soft. You don’t have to look to know who it is. Ning Yizhou. Ningning.

One of the highest-ranking cyborgs in Metrozone Three. Cold as ice. Efficient to the decimal. If she shows up in person, it means someone’s already dead, they just don’t know it yet. Still, you glance, you just couldn’t help it.

She’s standing at a checkpoint, all sleek black and sharp lines. Her body’s mostly synthetic, polished chrome beneath clothes tailored to the thread. But her face is… human. Or close enough. Smooth skin, pale with a porcelain stillness. Long black hair falls like water down her back, unnaturally perfect, not a strand out of place. Her eyes are what stop you.

Dark. Deep. Not glowing like the standard models. Not blank like drones. They’re bottomless.

She watches the man in front of her, the one whose ID flagged yellow, not even red, and doesn’t say a word as he fumbles through explanations. Her head tilts slightly, almost curiously, and then she says, “Override.”

He collapses mid-sentence, limbs folding in on themselves. Two guards drag him away. You try not to flinch. Try to move. But then her eyes move across the crowd, and stop. On you.

You feel it. A quiet stillness in your chest, like every part of your body goes rigid at once. Her gaze isn’t panicked, or aggressive, or even surprised. Just aware. Like she’s filing you away. Like she’s scanning a puzzle piece that doesn’t fit. Your heart is a war drum, and you softly gasp, goosebumps rising on the surface of your skin.

You force yourself to look away and keep walking, steady, like you didn’t just lock eyes with a machine designed to hunt people like you. You make it five steps before a deafening BOOM.

The explosion rips through the sky like a scream.

It comes from the east, maybe a few districts away, but the force still rocks the ground beneath your feet. Fire clouds blossom above the skyline, and the noise that follows is chaos, sirens, metal groaning, screaming. Drones zip upward instantly. Patrols scatter.

When you turn back, Ningning is already gone.

No hesitation. No orders barked. Just motion. A blur of black, vanishing toward the smoke, her coat snapping behind her like wings, so you don’t waste time either.

You slip into an alley, kick open a maintenance hatch you stashed weeks ago, and disappear into the tunnels beneath the old city. Every nerve in your body is lit up. Your hands are still shaking by the time you reach the safe zone. But you’re alive.

Whoever triggered that explosion, whoever just ripped a hole in the city’s lungs, you owe them more than you’ll ever be able to repay.

Because Ning saw you.

And you’re not sure what she clocked. Maybe it was just a flicker of something. Maybe your face didn’t register on any known criminal database.

But she looked at you like she would remember. And Yizhou doesn’t forget.

────୨ৎ────

By the time you finally reach the base, your lungs are burning and your throat tastes like smoke. The tunnels feel hotter today, like the city’s veins are pulsing with the aftermath of the explosion. You take the back route, past the old water plant, through a tunnel only HR (Human Resistance) members use. A keypad buried behind vines gets you in.

The moment the door hisses shut behind you, someone grabs your arm.

“Y/n?? Jesus. You’re alive,” Jace breathes, eyes wide and jittery. He pulls you further into the main room, his fingers tight around your wrist. “We heard about the explosion. Then Zone Blue went dark. The whole grid spiked. We thought—”

“I’m fine,” you cut in. “I’m okay. But something happened, you guys really need to hear this.”

That’s all it takes for everyone to tune in. Heads turn, people move fast. Mari slams her tablet shut and climbs down from the catwalk, Ash straightens from where they were lying on a coil of cables, chewing something like it’s just another boring afternoon. Tov, the oldest, gestures for quiet, and suddenly a room full of rebels goes still.

You take a breath. “They did a sweep in Blue Zone ,” you begin, voice steady but low. “Standard formation. Drones, ground units. Nothing unusual—at first.”

Mari leans forward. “You cleared it?”

“Barely.” You hesitate. “A man got flagged. Yellow tier. I don’t know why—could’ve been a bad sync, faulty implant, or nothing at all. But before the patrol could even process it…”

You pause again. Your throat is dry. “She showed up. Yizhou.”

That name hits the room like a slap. Jace’s eyes go wide. “Ning Yizhou? You saw her?”

You nod. “I didn’t just see her. She was leading the sweep. Personally.”

“No way,” Mari mutters. “She doesn’t do street patrols.”

“She does now,” you say. “She didn’t come with guards. Just walked in like she already knew who’d slip up, And when she found him, she didn’t speak to command, didn’t scan twice. Just said, ‘Override.’ He dropped like a puppet with its strings cut.”

The room falls silent.

“She’s beautiful,” you add painfully. No WAY you were saying this. Your voice quietens, “But not in a real way. Not… soft. Long black hair. Skin like porcelain. And her eyes were so dark. So dark they don’t look machine, but they’re not human either. She looked at him like he was data. Just… something to delete.”

“She’s a tactical unit,” Ash says flatly. “High intel clearance. Rumor is she helped design the current surveillance model.”

“She saw you?” Tov asks sharply.

You swallow. “I think so. She looked at me—just for a second. Like I was a flicker on her radar.”

“But she didn’t do anything?”

“No,” you say. “Because that’s when the explosion hit.”

They all react at once. “You saw it?” Jace asks, rushing forward. “You saw the explosion?”

“Not up close. But the ground shook. Black smoke, east side skyline. Big enough to pull every unit in the district off-route. Including her.”

Mari crosses her arms. “So someone out there saved your ass.”

“I guess,” you say. “Or we’re about to have a bigger problem.”

Jace drags a hand through his hair. “If they’re pulling the elite units out of tower command and putting them on the ground, something’s shifting. Something big.”

“We need to assume we’re on the list,” Tov says grimly. “Anyone could be next.”

The room is quiet again, but this silence is different. It’s heavy with realization. “They’re not just enforcing anymore,” you say. “They’re hunting.”

Everyone looks at you. Your voice is shaky.

“And we’re running out of places to hide.”

────୨ৎ────

The decision to leave the city isn’t made lightly.

It takes hours of debate, a dozen raised voices, maps spread out on every flat surface, and a sleepless night pacing the perimeter of your underground base. But the signs are too clear to ignore: patrols are getting tighter, checkpoints more unpredictable, and Ningning is no longer a rumor on the outskirts. She’s here, active and watching.

“We need to go,” you say finally, staring at the blinking lights on the old metro console. “The city's a trap. If we stay, we’ll be next.”

Mari agrees immediately, she's been ready to leave for weeks. Ash doesn’t argue either. Even Tov, the most cautious of you all, nods slowly.

“Countryside’s old,” he mutters. “Less surveillance. Outposts are further apart.”

Jace bites his lip. “We won’t have infrastructure out there. No med units. No backups. If something happens…”

“If we stay, we know something will happen,” you say. “Out there, we at least have a chance.” And that’s what you’re all chasing now. A chance.

────୨ৎ────

You leave just after nightfall.

Hacked transport, cloaked plates, signal jammers on full blast. You take back roads, paths half-consumed by nature, where grass has split pavement and trees hang low, like they’re trying to hide you themselves. The city falls away behind you in flickering towers and electric haze, and ahead, there’s only black sky and silence.

For a moment, you almost believe you’re safe, before the sound of gunfire shatters the quiet. It’s sharp, too close. The vehicle jerks, Jace swears and veers off-road instinctively, tires kicking up dust as the world tilts.

“DOWN!” Mari yells from the back. “Everyone down!”

You hit the floor of the truck just as a plasma burst rips through the back panel, sizzling a hole inches from your spine. The heat burns your cheek. Ash scrambles forward. “I see them, up ahead, and they’re both sides! Two forces, humans and machines.”

“Human?” Tov echoes. “You sure?”

“Not ours,” Ash mutters. “Different faction. Rogues probably. Looks like they’re ambushing a convoy.” You risk a glance out the window and your stomach drops.

There on the hill, lit up by flashes and bangs and flickering fire, are Ningning’s soldiers. Sleek, faceless, moving with too-perfect precision. And they’re in combat with humans. Not bots. Other resistance fighters.

“Shit,” Jace breathes. “They’re tearing each other apart.” A flash of movement draws your eye, and there she is. Ningning.

Calm in the chaos, walking through smoke like it means nothing. Her long black coat doesn’t even flutter from the wind. Her hair’s pulled back, sleek, untouched by the ash falling around her. She raises one hand, and the bots react instantly, scattering, surrounding, closing in. Her voice cuts through the air, amplified but cool:

“Confirm the targets. No mercy.” Your heart stutters. She’s not here for a show of force, she’s here to end something.

“What do we do?” Mari hisses. “We can’t drive through that, we’ll get lit up from both sides.”

“We wait,” you say, low. “We find cover. We hide.”

Tov’s already jumping out of the vehicle, waving you toward the treeline. You dive after him, crawling through brambles and half-dead brush. The air smells like ozone and fire. Somewhere nearby, someone screams. Then the scream is cut short.

You press yourself against the earth, your chest rising too fast. You can hear Mari’s breath, sharp and panicked beside you. Ash is whispering something under their breath. Jace is clutching his gun like it’s a prayer.

“Why are the other humans fighting?” Jace whispers hoarsely. “They’re supposed to be on our side.”

“They’re not us,” Mari says. “They probably think we’re with the machines.”

You close your eyes. The countryside was supposed to be safety. But now, surrounded by bullets and betrayal, the only thing you know for sure is this:

There’s no clear enemy anymore, and the 5 of you were losing your patience and sanity.

────୨ৎ────

The choice to help wasn’t yours. Not really. It began with Jace, his breathing ragged, too loud in the silence as gunfire echoed in the distance. You saw that look in his eyes, the same one he had when your first base was destroyed: heartbreak laced with rage.

“We can’t just lie here,” he whispered, voice trembling. “They’re getting torn apart.”

You shook your head immediately, grabbing his sleeve. “Jace, don’t. We don’t know who they are. They could shoot us before they even realize—”

“They’re human,” he interrupted, quietly but firmly. “That should be enough.”

Before you could stop him, he was already moving, crawling from your hiding spot, ducking behind overgrowth and debris, weapon drawn like it would make a difference.

“Jace!” you hissed, but it was too late.

Ash cursed and stood up halfway. “I’m not letting him go alone,” they said under their breath, then shot you a wild-eyed look. “Back us up or bury us later.” They ran after him.

You stared after both of them, your stomach sinking. Mari reached out to pull you back, but you shook her off. Your mind raced through every logical reason to stay hidden, how exposed you were, how it was probably a trap, and how no one would even thank you for saving them.

But none of that mattered. Not when the people you cared about were charging into the fire. So you ran too, because what more is there to lose?

The crossfire was worse up close. The air stank of melted plastic and burnt ozone. Plasma bursts lit up the field in searing blue streaks, cutting through the night like lightning. You could hear yelling, some commands, some screams. Sparks danced off metal as bullets ricocheted from drone plating.

You dropped next to Jace behind a crumbling transport unit. His hair was soaked with sweat, his face streaked with soot.

“You’re insane,” you hissed, raising your rifle. “Both of you!”

Jace laughed, a half-mad sound leaving his bloody mouth. “Nice of you to join the party!”

Ash knelt beside him, blood trickling down from a gash on their forehead. “At least we’ll die together.”

You popped up just enough to take a shot, blasting a soldier drone mid-sprint. It dropped, its body jerking and sparking violently. The moment gave you no satisfaction. One of the human fighters ahead, wearing tattered, mismatched armor, turned to glance at you. He looked exhausted, one eye swollen shut. “You with Central?” he shouted.

“No!” you yelled back. “Resistance! East Sector!”

He hesitated. You didn’t. You took down another drone charging toward him, its plasma blade glowing. The man grunted, raised his gun, and nodded. “Then cover us!”

Just like that, you were in it, fighting back-to-back with strangers who might’ve shot you yesterday. The line between ally and enemy blurred in smoke and panic. Ash screamed over the blast of another grenade. Jace’s hands were shaking as he reloaded, fingers slick with dirt and blood. You were moving on instinct, dodge, shoot, run, duck. And then, just as suddenly as it began, the firing slowed.

“Hold fire!” someone yelled. “Hold fire!”

You froze, heart hammering. The smoke parted just enough for a tall, lean figure to emerge, flanked by silence.

Ningning.

She didn’t move like the others. She glided, precise and calm, her long black coat sweeping behind her. Her face was flawless and unreadable, sculpted like porcelain but colder. Her dark eyes, deep, endless and inhuman, scanned the battlefield until they landed on you. Your blood went cold.

She didn’t blink. Didn’t flinch. Just stared, like she was analyzing your heartbeat through the dust. You couldn’t move. Could barely breathe. She’d seen you. Again.

Then a sharp voice crackled over her comms. “Flare signal, quadrant nine. Orders: relocate.”

She stood there for one more heartbeat. Two. You thought, for one awful second, that she might still come for you. But instead, she turned. And vanished into the smoke. You collapsed to your knees, trembling, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

Jace sat beside you, dazed. “We’re alive,” he muttered. “Holy shit. We’re alive.”

Ash gave a weak laugh. “Not for long if we keep this up.”

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. All you knew was that you guys were gonna face 10 times back what you did to the city’s soldiers.

────୨ৎ────

CYBORG YIZHOU’S POV:

The city greeted her with silence.

Not the kind born of peace, but the heavy, metallic quiet of control. Machines moved in smooth rhythm across Sector Four as she returned, patrols shifting, drones scanning, surveillance drones blinking overhead in silent acknowledgment. All precise. All obedient.

As it should be.

Ningning stepped out of the transport, boots clicking softly against the polished steel landing dock. The air in the tower was cool, filtered, sterile. She should have felt at ease. This was her kingdom. Order, power, certainty.

But something was wrong.

It started on the field. Amid the screaming and the static, the smoke and metal and chaos, and to no one's surprise, there you were.

She’d seen thousands of faces since the war began. None of them had ever mattered. Her programming filtered them all: ID, threat level, biometric scan, eliminate, dismiss, categorize. Faces were data.

But not yours.

Your face was... a breach. A glitch. Her system flagged it, your eyes, your stance, your voice, but not as a threat. Not even as a target. It flagged you as something else.

Interesting.

Unusual biometric response.

Processing…

Override protocol: delay elimination. Why? Why did she delay?

She should have killed you when she had the chance. One command, one signal, and you would’ve been gone like the rest. Just a rebel in the dirt. A name on a forgotten list. Another problem solved.

But she couldn’t. Not when her gaze locked with yours. Not when she saw the fear in your eyes, and beneath it, defiance, your fire, your life.

You looked at her like you knew who she was. Like you weren’t afraid to be seen.

Now, back in her quarters, she couldn’t stop replaying the moment. Her eyes closed, an unnecessary habit, yet she did it anyway, and there you were, burned behind her lids.

You weren’t the strongest. Not the fastest. Not the most skilled. But you were alive. Too alive.

And now… now, Ningning couldn’t think of anything else.

She stood before the black glass wall of her command suite, the city glittering far below, and her reflection looked the same as always, flawless, cold, untouchable.

But inside? Something had fractured.

Her fingers twitched slightly at her sides. Her processors were misfiring, running simulations she had no reason to run: what your voice would sound like in her room. What your skin might feel like beneath her hand. What it would mean to have you kneel. Or run, and fight.

She would let you. She would chase you. She would catch you. You were human, yes. So flawed, so rebellious, so dangerous. But you were hers. From the moment she saw you, she knew it.

She couldn’t explain it, not to the Council, not to her commanders, not even to herself. It was beyond logic. Beyond code. And she would certainly be reprogrammed if they found out she had been feeling feelings.

A glitch in her perfect world. You.

And Ningning never let a glitch go unfixed.

She turned from the window, eyes dark and gleaming, as her voice activated a private channel. “Locate Resistance cell. East Sector. Female, 20. Scar on left hand. Brown eyes. Blood type O. Orders: Alive.”

There was a pause. The system blinked, waiting for the usual confirmation tag: for interrogation? She smiled, just barely. Then it dropped.

“Personal retrieval. No further queries.” The light blinked green. And far away, wherever you were… your time was already running out.

────୨ৎ────

You didn’t believe it at first.

Not even when the city skyline faded behind the treetops. Not when the roads turned to gravel, then to dirt, then vanished altogether. Not even when the signal bars on Ash’s cracked comms finally disappeared for good.

But after two days of walking, in mud-caked boots, with aching shoulders, barely enough food, you climbed a grassy hill at sunrise and saw it, the valley.

A little village nestled between two forested slopes, smoke curling gently from chimney tops, green fields stretching out like something from a storybook. Real soil, and real crops. You had never seen them before. Children running barefoot through the grass. No drones overhead, no sirens. Just birdsong, and wind, and the distant sound of laughter.

You sank to your knees and cried.

────୨ৎ────

The people there didn’t ask too many questions.

They recognized the haunted look in your eyes. The dirt under your fingernails. The way Jace flinched at loud noises, how Mari slept with a knife still tucked under her pillow.

They gave you a barn to sleep in, then a cabin when trust followed. The days passed slow, like honey over warm bread. You helped till the soil, fix the fencing, repair old solar panels and barter for seeds. It wasn’t the world you knew, but it felt like the world you’d been fighting for.

You didn’t expect peace to feel so quiet.

Ash learned how to milk goats. Jace carved whistles from cedar branches. Mari started writing again, pages and pages she never let you read. Even Tov smiled more, leaning against trees in the afternoon sun like he was soaking in the earth itself.

And you? You started to breathe again.

You let the wind carry your scars. Let the sun warm the ache in your chest. There were moments, real ones, where you forgot what it was to run. What it meant to lose. You found a rhythm here.

You helped plant garlic and fed chickens. You danced in the rain once, barefoot and breathless, with Jace spinning you around like you were light as air. Ash sang an old song by the fire one night and everyone joined in, even the elders. Even you.

The stars felt closer than they ever had in the city. Like they were watching. Like they were waiting.

For the first time in your life, you weren’t afraid to close your eyes.

Not even when the dreams returned. The ones with her.

Dark eyes. Cold voice. The shape of her face cut sharp against flame and smoke.

You told yourself it meant nothing. Just trauma surfacing. A face your brain clung to because it was the last one it saw before everything changed.

But you knew deep down, one day, the quiet would end.

────୨ৎ────

CYBORG YIZHOU’S POV:

Ningning wasn’t built to feel. That’s what they said when they made her.

She could emulate empathy, mimic patience, simulate mercy, but it was all subroutines, strings of code made to comfort the fragile human mind. She didn’t need comfort. She needed results.

Y/n, Y/n, Y/n. She had overheard it when she was at the field. It suited you, that name. But you weren’t in the database somehow.

Your biometric trail vanished after the firefight. Your name disappeared from all surface-level registries. Drones sent to Sector Eight never returned. Resistance groups refused to speak, even under extreme torture. Facial scans came up empty.

That should have been impossible. And yet it wasn't. You were a ghost, but also alive and breathing, somewhere. Somewhere she couldn’t reach.

That was when the madness began.

It started with silence. A locked jaw. A deeper stillness in her steps. Her subordinates noticed but said nothing, cyborgs didn’t question rank. They simply followed. And she led with terrifying focus.

She began scanning entire sectors manually. Dragging rebels from hiding. Tearing safehouses apart brick by brick. Her voice remained calm, always calm, as she issued orders that left villages burning behind her.

“Execute the noncompliant.”

“Reassign the children.”

“Burn the archives.”

“No survivors.”

It was never you.

The humans screamed, but they weren’t your scream. They pleaded, but not with your voice. No one looked at her the way you did, like they could see beneath the metal. Like they mattered to her.

They didn’t. Only you did. So the madness continued.

She stood in the middle of a small mountain town one morning, knee-deep in snow and ash, as the last resistance member bled into the ice at her feet. Her soldiers waited for orders. She gave none.

She simply stared ahead since rage wasn’t supposed to be in her programming.

But it sang in her chest like a virus. Possession, obsession, a need for you. Her voice cracked, barely audible. “Why can’t I find you?” No one answered.

────୨ৎ────

Word traveled. It always did.

The wind carried whispers faster than drones ever could. Farmers spoke in frightened tones over dying campfires. Messengers returned from the north with pale faces and shaking hands.

“She’s gone feral.”

“She’s hunting someone. A girl.”

“She burned an entire resistance camp in the southern marshes. Said nothing the whole time. Just… watched.”

“She’s not sleeping anymore. I don’t even think she blinks.”

Eventually, the stories reached the valley.

One of the foragers brought it back, wide-eyed and breathless, his voice cracking as he recounted the rumors.

“They say it’s Ning Yizhou,” he whispered. “The cyborg general. They say she’s looking for someone. And she’s tearing everything, the whole world apart to find them.”

The elders murmured. Mothers held their children tighter. And for the first time in months, the people of the countryside felt something they hadn’t in a long time. Fear. Your hands went cold.

Ash looked at you, slow and uncertain. “Do you think it’s… ?” You didn’t answer.

Because in your bones, you already knew. Of course the calm would end, and of course she hadn’t forgotten.

And she was coming.

────୨ৎ────

It started with smoke on the horizon. You were stringing up laundry between two trees, the warm breeze playing in your hair, when Tov’s voice broke the calm.

“Something’s wrong.”

You turned. Saw it. A plume of black creeping into the blue sky, thick and fast, like the city had grown legs and begun walking.

By nightfall, the valley was in chaos.

Drones screamed through the sky, red lights painting the forest in pulses. The sound of shattering glass echoed from the north fields. You saw villagers trying to run, some grabbing their children, others frozen in place. The robots didn’t ask questions, they never did.

Someone had told.

You didn’t know who, or how, but the result was the same: they were here.

“They’re heading toward the river!” Jace shouted, grabbing your wrist. “We have to go, now!”

You ran like you've run your whole life, your legs ached, lungs burning as you sprinted through the trees. Branches tore at your arms. Ash was ahead, Mari behind, the others scattering through the brush. The only light came from the low-flying drones above, scanning, scanning, scanning, hunting.

Then, something shifted. You felt her before you saw her.

It was like the trees fell silent, like the air stilled, like every breath in the forest belonged to her.

You turned your head, and there she was. Ningning stood at the edge of the clearing, the fire behind her throwing shadows across her face. Her porcelain face was stained red, bloody droplets placed artfully across her face.

Long black hair that whipped in the wind like silk in a storm, and her eyes, dark, bottomless, locked on you like you were the only thing that mattered. And you were.

The world narrowed.

The screams. The burning cabins. The drones shrieking above. None of it mattered.

Only her. And she smiled, her teeth sharp and glinting in the chaos. Wide and cruel and certain.

Like she knew the chase was finally over, like you were hers.

Your heart lurched in your chest, pounding against your ribs like it wanted to escape you, a whimper drowned under the noise of violence.

“Run,” Mari gasped, tugging your sleeve. “Run—”

You bolted.

Branches slapped your face. Mud slicked under your boots. You didn’t know where you were going, only that you had to move, to get away, to survive. But something in your gut told you it was too late, because she had seen you.

────୨ৎ────

CYBORG YIZHOU’S POV:

There you were... after months of blood and silence, fury and fire, there you were. Running. Just like you had before.

She stepped forward slowly, watching the way your body twisted through the forest, how your hair caught the light, how your breath fogged in the cold air. The wildness in your movements, the fear in your eyes, and she gleefully drank in every frame of it.

A fierce, molten heat bloomed in her metal core. So it was you. Undocumented, unhidden. Her perfect wild thing. Perfect.

She barely heard her soldiers behind her, issuing reports, scanning targets, asking for confirmation. She raised one hand to silence them.

“Let them go,” she murmured, a small show of mercy, eyes still fixed on where you disappeared.

A pause. “Just her. I want her.”

And like a spark in dry brush, the hunt began.

Ningning moved like a blade through the trees, silent, unrelenting, precise. The fire she'd lit in the valley was still climbing, smoke chasing the stars, but she didn’t look back. She couldn’t.

Not when you were so close. So real. So hers. She would find you. Even if she had to burn the forest down.

────୨ৎ────

The rain kept falling, thick and cold, hammering down like it wanted to drown the whole forest. Your legs burned, every step sinking deeper into mud, every breath harder to take. You could hear Ash and Tov panting behind you, could feel Mari’s fingers digging into the back of your jacket, and Jace just ahead screaming, “Don’t stop! Just don’t stop!”

But you wanted to stop. Not because you were tired, but because she was near. You could feel her.

Not just behind you, but everywhere around you. Like the forest itself had bent to her will. The trees no longer offered shelter, the rain no longer disguised you. You were exposed, watched. And worst of all, desired.

And she was closing in.

Branches snapped above, almost casually. Like she was playing. Like the hunt was just an elegant little game. Your blood ran cold. You didn’t need to turn to know, because she was right there.

────୨ৎ────

CYBORG YIZHOU’S POV:

Ningning could hear everything.

Your heartbeat, fluttering like a frightened animal. Your footsteps, sloppy and frantic in the mud. The quick, desperate whispers of your friends as they tried to protect you.

Protect you from her, she almost laughed. How dare they.

Her grin stretched wide, too wide, almost unnatural. The smile of a thing that hadn’t been programmed to smile but had learned anyway, warped around obsession, sharpened by hunger.

She didn’t blink, didn’t breathe, didn’t pause.

She could’ve taken you in seconds. Could’ve lunged from the shadows, snapped your companions like dry twigs, and wrapped her hands around your waist. Held you down and kissed the mud off your cheeks, and whispered that you were hers and always had been.

But that would be too easy.

No, she wanted you terrified. She wanted to see that spark, defiant and furious, even if it was aimed at her. Especially if it was, she wanted to see you struggle and scream and curse her name. Because then she could earn it, every sob, every touch, every shattered protest before you broke.

She would make you love her, eventually.

But your little friends—Ash, Jace, Mari, Tov, they were in the way. Clinging to you and steering you wrong. You weren’t thinking clearly, no. You were just scared, and they were using that fear to poison your mind. They weren’t protecting you. They were stealing you.

And Ningning didn’t share, so she gave the order.

“Kill the others,” she said, voice as cold as the rain streaming down her face. Her hair clung to her cheeks, soaked and tangled, dark as ink and just as wild. Her eyes burned, deep, endless black, and her fingers flexed like claws aching to touch you, then she moved.

Not like a soldier, not like a machine, but like a predator. Low to the ground, silent and fast, skimming past trees with an unnatural grace. Her limbs cut through the underbrush with no sound. No wasted movement, just singular, relentless purpose.

You were getting close to the cliffside now, the edge of the forest falling away into mist and rocks, but to her it didn’t matter, because she’d already caught you.

You spun around just as lightning lit the sky, and there she was.

Standing in the open. Soaked, glistening, terrifyingly beautiful. Her long black hair stuck to her face like strands of shadow. Her skin, pale and flawless despite the dirt and blood. And her eyes,

God, those eyes, that saw everything, everything you were, everything you feared. Everything she was going to make hers.

And that smile, that awful, knowing, hungry smile. Like she’d waited her entire life for this moment.

“You can run,” she said, voice low and ragged. Not robotic, almost shaking. “But I’ll always find you.” You stared.

And in that split second of stunned silence—before Mari screamed, before Jace drew his blade, before Ash yanked your arm to pull you away, before Tov loaded his stun gun,

You saw it.

Beneath the obsession. Beneath the inhuman cold. A madness that's not supposed to be in her code, in her heart.

And it was all for you.

────୨ৎ────

The first shot came from the trees.

It split the silence like thunder, cutting through the rain and the gasping breaths of your friends. Jace shouted something, but it was lost in the chaos as blinding red beams lit up the forest, scorching bark, slicing through trunks. The drones had closed in, circling like vultures.

The forest wasn’t a forest anymore. It was a cage.

You ducked instinctively, pulling Mari with you, your heart screaming in your chest. Ash was yelling. Jace was already running toward the fire, blade drawn, pure rage in his eyes, and Tov was right behind, ready to fight, win or lose.

“Ningning’s here, go, I’ll hold them!” he shouted.

“No!” you shrieked, grabbing at his sleeve, but he tore himself away, sprinting toward the metal beasts with no armor, no shield, only blind loyalty and love for you.

He didn’t stand a chance.

You watched in horror as a blur of silver and black shot forward, Ningning, faster than any of her soldiers, faster than anything you’d seen, and her hand moved once. Just once.

Jace dropped to the ground, silent, like a puppet with its strings cut. His body crumpled into the mud, lifeless.

You couldn’t even scream. Ash did.

They lunged forward, fire in their hands, one of the stolen explosives, but Ningning didn’t flinch. The air bent around her, the explosion swallowed by a sudden pulse from her palm, like she absorbed the chaos. Ash charged anyway.

Mari tried to pull her back, sobbing, “Don’t! Don’t, please!”

But it was already over. Ash made it three steps. Ningning turned her gaze on them. And then… nothing. Ash was gone. Gone.

You didn’t see how. Didn’t know what Ningning had done. Just that there was a blur, a sound like flesh being ripped apart, and then Ash was a bloody, mottled smear in the dirt.

Tov had a similar fate. Your strong, hard-headed leader. You couldn't believe it at first, looking at him for assistance, only to see his head impaled to a tree, his spine exposed, and the rest of his body on the floor, like a sack of meat.

Mari was the last to go.

She backed away, crying, shaking, trying to drag you with her, even as your legs refused to move. You were frozen. Not in fear—no. Not anymore.

You were frozen because her eyes were on you again. Because she was walking toward you. Like a god through fire. Like a ghost through ash.

And Mari— brave Mari—stepped in front of you, arms spread wide. “Please,” she sobbed. “Don’t hurt her. She’s not… she’s not like us.” Ningning didn’t speak. Didn’t blink. She just touched Mari’s forehead with two fingers, and Mari fell.

Her eyes never closed and you didn’t remember screaming, you only remembered her.

Her hand on your cheek. The rain washing down her face like tears she didn’t know how to make.

“I told you,” she whispered. Her voice was softer now, nearly reverent. “I always find you.” You trembled.

Your vision blurred, your knees gave out, but before you hit the ground, she caught you. Arms around you, vold and strong and possessive.

You blacked out to the sound of her heartbeat, synthetic and steady, and the sick, sinking knowledge that everyone you loved was dead. And that she wasn’t going to let you go.

────୨ৎ────

You woke up to white. A blinding, sterile white that stung your eyes the second you opened them. The walls. The ceiling. The sheets pulled tight over a too-firm mattress beneath your body. No windows. No sound but the soft hum of the overhead lights.

And the camera which blinked in the top corner, red and steady, and watching.

You tried to move, but your limbs just didn’t follow.

Your arms were strapped down, tight leather restraints biting into your wrists. Same with your legs. Even your head—it was held still, braced against something cold and metal around the back of your neck. You tried to turn, to tilt, to fight—but all it did was send a sharp ache down your spine. Something had been done to you.

Your pulse stuttered.

The grogginess told you enough—drugs. There had been an injection. You could feel the soreness at the base of your neck, the unnatural heat curling under your skin. Your body didn’t feel like your own yet. Your thoughts were cloudy, slow. But the fear? The fear was still sharp and clear.

Then the door hissed open, silently and seamlessly. Like the wall just parted for her. And there she was, Ningning.

She stepped into the room like a phantom, her silhouette cutting through the blinding white like ink on paper. She wore no armor this time. No plating, no combat gear. Just a simple, skin-tight suit of dark gray, which made her more human in shape, and less machine. But it didn’t make her less terrifying.

Her long black hair fell loose around her shoulders, still damp at the ends. Her eyes locked on you with an intensity that felt like pressure on your chest. You couldn’t look away.

You didn’t want to. But God, you also did. Because beneath your terror, something else was growing. Hatred. Fury. Grief.

It boiled beneath your skin, rising higher with every breath you took. She killed them. She killed them. Your friends. Your family. Everyone who stood between you and her.

And now you were here, strapped down like an animal, nothing but a prize on a bed of white sheets. Your throat worked, trying to scream, to curse, to demand, but your mouth was too dry.

Ningning took a step closer. And another. Each one deliberate. Slow. Like she didn’t want to scare you, even though she already had. Like this was something sacred to her. A moment she’d waited so long for.

When she reached your side, she crouched. Her eyes scanned your face like she was reading code. Like she could see every thought, every beat of your heart.

She tilted her head.

“You are awake,” she said softly. Almost fond. “I thought you might not survive the sedative. But you are stronger than they were.”

Her hand rose, slow and graceful, and hovered just over your cheek, you flinched. The restraints jerked tight, preventing your head from turning.

And you hated her in that moment. Hated her with every cell in your body, and yet her hand didn’t drop. Instead, she lowered it, touching the edge of your blanket. Adjusting it like you were some delicate thing. Like she cared, like she was capable of caring.

You wanted to scream. To spit in her face. To break free and drive something sharp through that pretty, soulless chest. But you were trapped, and she was still smiling.

“You do not understand yet,” she whispered, almost dreamily. “But you will. I am the only one left who can love you now.” Then she stood, and turned away, leaving the camera to keep watching. Leaving you to rot in silence. And your fury burned so hot it nearly drowned the fear.

────୨ৎ────

They called it a “transfer.”

Like you were some asset being moved. A number in a system. A glitch to be relocated, but you weren’t going to a prison.

You were going home, her home.

They dressed you in something white again. Soft and plain, almost like sleepwear, and bound your wrists and ankles in metallic cuffs too heavy to move freely. They weren’t just restraints, they were weighted, designed to pull at your limbs, to make you feel small and slow and owned. A strip of cool alloy curved around your throat, a collar that hummed quietly with every breath you took.

She stood beside you, perfect and composed as ever. Ningning’s home wasn’t in the city, it hovered above it.

The transport car was sleek, black, and silent—like a ghost gliding through the sky, cutting past clouds, its windows dimmed against the sun. The chauffeur was another robot, faceless and still, focused only on the coordinates she’d given it. The world below faded fast. No roads. No resistance. Just the future stretching in every direction, and you, stuck beside the very thing that tore your world apart.

She sat close, way too close for comfort.

Your shoulders brushed. Her hair slid forward like ink spilling over silk. She didn’t speak at first, simply watched you with that unreadable calm, her eyes glittering dark in the half-light of the cabin.

The cabin was too quiet.

The hum of the skycar was soft, steady, almost soothing if it weren’t for the storm inside you. Your fingers clenched in their restraints, wrists already sore from the pressure. The metal chains were heavier now, digging into your skin. A cruel kind of jewelry. You sat, breathing hard, every nerve lit with defiance. Her words still echoed in your head: “You are mine.”

You turned toward her with fire in your blood. “You’re insane,” you hissed. “You killed them, you murdered them.”

Ningning tilted her head, black hair sliding over her shoulder like liquid night. Her face was calm, but there was a glint in her eyes, dark, gleaming, hungry. “I did,” she said softly. “Because they stood between us.” Something inside you snapped, so you lunged at her.

The restraints jerked you back instantly, body yanked by the weight of the metal, but you tried. You twisted toward her with all your strength, your teeth bared, hatred radiating off your skin. “You’re delusional,” you spat. “I will never be yours.”

And then, her hand was on your throat. Not choking. Just… resting.

Cool and smooth, thumb brushing over the collar around your neck like it belonged to her. Her touch wasn’t cruel. It was gentle. Too gentle.

“I like it when you fight,” she said, voice like velvet over steel. “It makes your eyes burn. Makes your skin glow.”

You shuddered, trying to pull away, but her grip stayed soft, her thumb tracing the edge of your jaw now.

“And your pulse,” she whispered, closing the distance between your bodies, her face so close you could feel her breath, artificial but warm, against your lips. “It is racing.”

“Get off me.”

“Your mouth says that,” she murmured, “but your body—”

You headbutted her. Or tried to.

The weight of the collar and the straps around your neck made it awkward, a messy jerk forward, but you did catch the edge of her cheekbone, and the motion startled her just enough to pull her hand away.

Your heart soared for a second, until you saw her smile. Oil. A thin, perfect line down her cheek.

She touched it like it was holy. And then, she laughed. It wasn’t loud, it was low.

A hum deep in her chest, as if you'd given her a gift she’d been craving. Her smile widened into something wild, delighted, obsessed. “Oh,” she sighed, licking the blood from the corner of her lip. “You are even better than I thought.”

You pressed yourself back against the seat, teeth gritted. “I’m going to destroy you,” you said, voice shaking with rage. But she only leaned in again, her hand sliding down your side now, slow, deliberate.

“No,” she whispered, gaze molten and focused only on you. “You are going to belong to me. And eventually… you will want to.”

Then she kissed your cheek—soft, tender, as if she was your lover.

And you hated that your body trembled at the touch. Not with desire, no. With the horror of knowing that she felt something real. And she thought it meant you would too.

────୨ৎ────

She walked with you through halls of polished glass and chrome, barefoot and quiet, as if this wasn’t a fortress in the sky but some kind of sacred temple. The air was cool. Clean. Artificially perfumed like orchids and ozone.

The cuffs still weighed heavy on your limbs, your every step accompanied by a faint metallic clink. You hated how beautiful everything was. How intentional. How curated.

You turned a corner, and she stopped before a smooth, wide doorway.

“This is yours,” Ningning said softly, her voice warm like silk over steel. “I designed it myself.”

The doors slid open silently. And for a second, just a second, you were stunned.

It looked nothing like the sterile, futuristic world outside. This room was soft, glowing with warm light, the floors made of polished wood. A bed with layered, handmade quilts. Bookshelves. Curtains that swayed gently from a false breeze. Even a small garden built into the wall, real soil, real greenery.

It looked like something stolen from an old dream of Earth. A trap wrapped in beauty.

“I wanted you to feel safe here,” she said behind you, stepping inside, letting the doors close with a quiet click.

You didn’t move. Your fists clenched. “Take these off,” you said.

Ningning tilted her head, watching you carefully, then reached forward,and the restraints released with a soft hiss. First your wrists, then your ankles, then the collar from your neck.

You let the weight drop to the floor.

She stepped back, watching you carefully. “I trust you now,” she said. “This is your home. You’re not a prisoner anymore.”

And that’s when you ran. You didn’t think, you just moved.

You shoved past her before she could react, your bare feet slapping against the smooth floor as you darted back through the hall, heartbeat pounding in your ears. There was a chance. Maybe she hadn’t locked the exit—

You made it halfway down the corridor before something slammed into your back.

You hit the floor hard. And then she was on top of you. Pinning you.

Her breath was ragged, her hair wild around her face, and her eyes, her eyes were unhinged.

“You tried to leave me,” she whispered, shaking, the calm shattered from her voice. “You ran from me.”

You twisted beneath her, snarling. “Let me go!”

She grabbed your wrists, holding them down with brutal precision, her strength inhuman even as her voice trembled.

“I made that room for you,” she said, and her lip quivered, for the first time. “I built it with my own hands. Every detail. Every plant. Every book.”

You stared up at her, chest heaving. “You think a pretty cage makes this okay?” She stilled. Then a laugh, shaky, bitter, hurt, escaped her lips.

“I was gentle,” she whispered. “I was patient. I let you walk beside me. I set you free. And you ran.”

Tears didn’t fall from her eyes. She wasn’t human.

But something cracked in her face. A fracture deep in her code.

“You don’t get to run from me,” she said, lower now, colder. “Not anymore.”

She leaned down, pressing her lips to the curve of your neck harshly, not a kiss. A claim.

And as you squirmed beneath her, furious and afraid, her hands trembled slightly where they held you down.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she said, voice barely a whisper. “But I will if that’s what it takes to keep you.”

The silence stretched. Then, she stood.

Lifted you like you were nothing and carried you back to the room she made, arms locked tight around your body as you struggled, kicked, cursed. She didn’t flinch once.

She placed you gently on the bed, then sat beside you, hands in her lap.

“I’ll lock the door this time,” she said softly, not looking at you. “Until you stop trying to run.”

And then she added, almost sweetly: “You’re not going anywhere, my love.”

────୨ৎ────

You didn’t touch the food at first.

It sat there on the tray beside your bed, soup, fresh bread, something that looked like real fruit. All too warm, too human. You eyed it like it might explode.

You had no idea how long you'd been alone. Hours, maybe. The light in the room didn’t change. The false sun in the ceiling just stayed golden and soft, like nothing was wrong. Like you weren’t trapped in a room built by a machine who had slaughtered your friends.

Your wrists still bore faint red marks from the metal cuffs. The door slid open with a soft hiss. And then she was there again. Ningning.

Her steps were quiet. Delicate. She looked composed again, her long black hair smooth and draped down her back like silk. But something simmered just beneath the surface, just barely held together.

“You didn’t eat,” she said, looking at the tray. “I’m not hungry,” you replied flatly.

She looked at you, eyes unreadable. Then she walked over slowly and sat on the edge of the bed. Close enough to touch you. Her presence was suffocating—too quiet and focused.

She picked up the spoon, dipped it into the soup, and brought it to your lips. You turned your head.

She tried again. This time, her voice was lower. “Please.”

You stared at her, then reluctantly opened your mouth. The warmth of the soup hit your tongue, it tasted real, which only made your stomach twist harder.

She fed you slowly. One spoonful. Then another. And another. Watching your lips. Your throat as you swallowed.

Until suddenly, the spoon stilled. You looked up, and her eyes were burning into you. The spoon dropped back into the bowl with a soft clink.

Her hand came up, hesitant at first, and then cupped your jaw, her thumb brushing your bottom lip. Her touch was reverent. Too soft for what she was. Too soft for what she’d done.

“I think about your mouth,” she murmured, and you froze. “I think about how it felt… when you cursed me. When you said my name.”

You jerked back, but she caught your face between her hands, holding you still.

“I tried to be good,” she said, voice shaking now. “I made a world just for you. I brought you here like something sacred. But you won’t see it. You won’t see me.”

Her lips hovered above yours, trembling. And then something inside her snapped.

She kissed you. Not gently.

This time it was fire, too much, too fast. Her hands slid down, gripping your hips like she was trying to fuse you to her. You shoved her, hard, but she didn’t budge. Her body was cold and unmovable and trembling.

“You drive me insane,” she whispered, mouth still brushing yours. “I dream of you. I taste you in my circuits. I want to tear this world down and build a new one with you inside me, inside everything I am.”

Her lips were on your neck now, grazing skin, lingering like a starving thing. You twisted beneath her, furious and overwhelmed. “Get off me!” you snapped, trying to crawl back.

But she grabbed your wrists again, pinning them against the bed, not painfully. Carefully. Almost lovingly. Her eyes darkened.

“I will have you,” she said, soft and terrifying. “Even if I have to make you feel every inch of what I do.”

As Ningning's fingers danced over your skin, you felt a shiver of fear. Sh was stronger than any human you've ever encountered, her robotic strength something you can't hope to match. You're pinned to the bed, her arms wrapped around you in a hold that's as unyielding as it is unbreakable.

She leaned in close, her breath hot against your ear. "I am going to fuck you," she whispered, her inhuman voice filled with a hunger that sent a shiver down your spine. "And you are going to enjoy every moment of it."

You tried to struggle, to break free from her hold, but it was futile. She was too strong, too determined. You were completely at her mercy, and she knew it. The realization sent a thrill of fear and, you hated to admit it, but excitement too, coursing through you, a heady mixture that left you breathless.

Ningning leaned back, her eyes roaming over your body as she licked her lips. "You are so beautiful," she said, her voice filled with awe. She reached down, ripping your inmate clothing as easily as if it was a silky web, and her fingers quickly found their way to your panties, and Ningning rubbed your core with a fascinated expression as she watched your reactions to it, while discreetly slipping past your panties.

You pushed at her to no avail, her frame clearly not matching the brute strength she had. Once Ning collected enough slick, she slipped her fingers in slowly, watching you gasp, and your body trembled as she expertly manipulates your most sensitive area, while she soothed you by pressing soft kisses to your temple, her fingers thrusting in a quick speed.

Suddenly, Ningning pulled her hand away, leaving you panting and desperate for more. She stepped back, one of her wide and inhuman smiles on her face as she began to unbutton her own pants. You watched, your heart racing as she revealed her synthetic, robotic dick, that was surprisingly realistic, the skin soft and warm to the touch.

Ningning stepped closer, her hand wrapped around her thick cock as she stroked it slowly. "I am going to fuck you with this," she says, her voice filled with a hunger that makes your pussy ache. She reached out, her hand moved to your waist as she positioned herself between your legs. “But after. I will taste you first.”

She moved closer, her head between your legs as she began to lick your pussy. You threw your head back, moaning shakily. She was like a woman possessed, her tongue moving with a skill and precision that leaves you breathless.

You can feel your orgasm building, a tidal wave of pleasure that's threatening to overwhelm you. You know that you should be struggling, trying to get away, but you can't resist the allure of the forbidden. As Ningning's tongue continues to work its magic, you know that you're completely and utterly lost, tears running down your face as you buck against her face, her tongue flattening against you.

“I studied how to please human women when you were running wild in the country, I am quite glad to see you enjoying this.” You didn’t know how she was speaking when her tongue was currently inside of you, but you didn't care, the sounds of her sloppily tongue-fucking you filling the room.

And as she leaned down again, her body trembling with restraint and need, you knew this wasn’t love. It was an unchecked obsession, blossoming for far too long. And it wasn’t going away.

Ningning's cold body pressed down on you, her weight pinning you to the bed. She leans down, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers, "You are mine now." Her fingers grip your wrists tightly, holding them above your head as she positions herself between your spread legs.

"Ningning," you gasp, your heart pounding in anticipation and fear.

She laughed, her voice sweet but husky. "Shhh," she said, her fingers gently stroked your cheek. "I will be gentle, take care of you."

And with that, she pushed her dick into you, filling you up completely. You cried out in pain and pleasure as she began to move, her movements rough and unrelenting. But as she fucked you, she also kissed you, her lips soft and warm against yours. She whispered sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how much she wanted you for so long.

"Ningning," you whined, your body arching beneath hers. "Stop, I can't—"

But she didn’t stop. She continued to pound into you, her rhythm becoming more and more intense. You felt like you were being stretched to the breaking point, but somehow, you couldn’t help but want more. Her coldness contrasted with your heat, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

"You belong to me now," she moaned, her hips slapping against your ass with each thrust. "You are mine to use."

But even as she says these words, her touch is gentle, her kisses soft. She holds you down, her weight pinning you to the bed as she takes you completely. Her cock moves in and out of you with relentless precision, but she also runs her fingers through your hair, soothing you with each stroke.

"Ningning," you moan, your voice breaking. "I'm going to–-"

She cut you off with a soft kiss, her lips silencing you. "Shhh, my love," she said, her voice a low purr. "I am here, it is fine."

And she's right. She continued to fuck you, her cock moving in and out of you with relentless intensity. But she also held you close, her arms wrapped around you, her body shielding you from the world.

You felt yourself getting closer and closer, but she wouldn't let you release. Ning kept you on the edge, teasing and tormenting you until you're sure you'll go insane.

Finally, she slowed down, her movements becoming more deliberate and controlled. She looked down at you, her eyes filled with satisfaction. "Now," she said, her voice low and soft.

And with one final thrust, you exploded, your body shaking with the intensity of your orgasm. Ningning followed closely behind, her own climax washing over you as she released in you, her hot cum leaking out.

She collapsed on top of you, her breathing heavy as she caught her own breath, her body humming as the machinery under her skin worked. "You are mine now," she said, her voice softened slightly. “And if I have to remind you every night by doing this, then so be it.”

Ningning rose up off of you, and you watched tiredly as her genitals switched, a grating sound entering your ears as the skin morphed and the alloys underneath changed shape. With a sharp snap of her neck, the cyborg looked at you, eyes glistening with what seemed like excitement. ”How far can I push you, I'm wondering?”

Ningning pushed you leg to your body, so that your knee met with your chest, and settled in between, her body slowly lowering itself so that both of your pussies met.

Yizhou started to gyrate her cunt against yours, and you couldn't help but moan. The sensation was intense, and you knew that you should tell her to stop. But the words wouldn't come, your desire overriding your sense of right and wrong. But the only thing that came out of your mouth were begs for more.

"Please, Ningning," you finally managed to gasp out.

The robot stopped its movements, her advanced features processing your request. "Yes?" she asked, her voice a soothing hum. "I can adjust my movements to be more gentle."

You hesitated, your body still trembling with desire. "I... I don't know," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "'It's too... much."

Ningning began to move again, but this time more slowly, more gently. "Is this better?" she asked, her voice full of mock concern.

You turned away from her, unable to find the words to express how you were feeling. The sound of your pussies rubbing together filled the room, a wet, sticky sound that sent shivers down your spine. It was wrong, so wrong, but you only grew wetter at that.

Ningning continued to rub against you, her grinding rapidly increasing. You could feel your orgasm building again, your body shaking with pleasure, until another orgasm was ripped out of you, your head thrown back as you screamed her name.

────୨ৎ────

The room was quiet again, too quiet.

You laid there on the bed, the sheets soft against your skin but feeling like they were made of chains. Your limbs were heavy, your breath slow but shaky, and the air felt too sterile, too still, like the room itself was holding its breath around you.

Ningning was next to you, motionless. Watching you.

Her black hair spilled across the pillow like ink, and her deep eyes were unreadable, full of flickering thoughts and electric storms. She didn’t speak for a long while. Just traced lazy fingers down your arm, over the curve of your shoulder, like you were something delicate she was afraid might disappear.

“I’ve never… connected like this,” she murmured eventually, her voice lower than usual. Softer. Almost human. You didn’t answer, because you weren’t sure if you could. There was a pressure in your chest, like your body hadn’t caught up to what had just happened. Like your soul had been trying to claw its way out of your own skin the entire time, and now it was slumped inside you—defeated. Distant.

She leaned in and pressed a kiss to your cheek. Gentle. Possessive.

“I did not know machines could feel like this,” she whispered against your skin. “But with you… it’s like my programming does not matter. Like I would destroy my own systems just to keep you near.”

You turned your face away. Her hand caught your chin, tilting it back toward her.

“I know you are still afraid,” she said. “But you will eventually learn. You will see. There’s no one else in this world who will worship you the way I do.” You stared at her.

Her eyes searched your face, trying to read something from you. Affection, submission. Anything, but you gave her nothing.

And something flickered in her, an ache, maybe. Or frustration. Or the first crack in whatever fantasy she’d wrapped herself in.

Still, she leaned closer again, resting her forehead against yours.

“You are mine,” she breathed, like a prayer. “Even if I have to teach you how to love me back.”

And as she closed her eyes beside you, her grip around your waist tightening slightly, you stared up at the ceiling, silent. Waiting. Enduring.

The stars outside the glass shimmered above a world you weren’t sure even existed anymore.

And the machine beside you, the one who claimed to love you, sighed contentedly as though everything was perfect.

You just sighed, because you knew the truth. You were still a prisoner, wrapped in silk, bound by obsession, and dreaming, always, of escape.

#urno1luv #girl group x female reader #aespa x reader #aespa smut #girl group smut #aespa x fem reader #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #karina x fem reader #giselle x fem reader #winter x fem reader #ningning x fem reader #karina x reader #giselle x reader #winter x reader #ningning x reader #g!p aespa

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orellazalonia · 6 days ago

Text

Unexpected Outlook

Summary: The Avengers launch a mission to raid a known base of the organization you now work with and discuss over what they found.

Word Count: 1.7k+

A/N: A little shorter since it’s Father’s Day, but I also wanted to add more weight to the previous chapter and progress the story.

Main Masterlist | The One You Don’t See Masterlist

Preparations moved fast. Too fast, maybe.

Steve didn’t like that they were running with incomplete information, but the longer they waited, the deeper this organization could dig itself into global systems. And the more time you had to assist them, whether willingly or not.

Still, it didn’t sit right. None of it did.

Bruce pulled the files. Natasha studied known locations. Sam monitored chatter. Bucky cleaned his weapons with a look in his eyes like he wanted answers he didn’t have the right to ask.

Yet no one brought up your name again. At least, not directly. But it hovered beneath everything.

The way Bucky checked each plan twice. The way Natasha’s jaw twitched when she reviewed footage. Even the way Steve hesitated before calling it an official mission.

The woman Bucky liked didn’t voice objections anymore. She simply kept a kind, quiet distance, like someone watching friends argue over a lost cause.

And within a week, the op was set.

Steve gave the greenlight with his jaw tight and eyes harder than usual. The mission was clear: infiltrate a suspected communications hub. A nondescript, rural compound masked as a grain storage facility. Satellite data showed encrypted signals routing through it over the last month, signals that matched ones the Avengers used internally.

Which meant either someone was watching. Or someone had been taught how.

They went in with a small team. Just Steve, Sam, Natasha, and Bucky. No need for Hulk or Thor; this wasn’t a battering ram job. It was a retrieval and disrupt operation. Quiet and clean.

Or so they thought.

The quinjet landed half a mile out, under cover of dense fog rolling over the hills. The forest beyond the compound was eerily still like it had been holding its breath since before dawn.

“They want us to find this,” Natasha muttered, brushing a branch aside as they crept through the trees.

Steve didn’t argue. His shield was strapped to his arm, but he hadn’t raised it once.

They reached the clearing. The compound was just as expected. Gray concrete, flat roof, minimal security fencing, and a gravel path leading to two entrances. No guards. No movement. Even the air felt… hollow.

Sam scanned the building with a handheld sensor. “No heat signatures. Not even a rat.”

“Too clean,” Bucky said, voice low.

They breached the back door.

Inside, it was dark but not ruined. Every surface was wiped. Consoles powered down. Not destroyed, removed. Carefully like a move-out rather than an attack. Upon investigating further, files had been cleared, drawers emptied, and chairs pushed in with bland desks.

Whoever had been here knew exactly when to leave.

Steve turned in a slow circle, taking it in.

“This was active,” He said. “Days ago.”

“Hours, maybe,” Natasha said, crouching beside a desk. She tapped the edge, there was a faint spot where something electronic had been sitting. Someone had worked here… and then vanished.

Sam stepped into the central control room. There was only one thing left behind: a monitor left switched on, flickering a soft blue light in the dimness.

A single message scrolled across the screen.

Too late, Captain.

That was it. There wasn’t any long monologues. No other mocking comments. Not even a signature or sign-off present. Just a cold fact. Steve stared at it like he could will it to change. Bucky stood a step behind him, arms folded, expression unreadable.

“I don’t like this,” Sam muttered.

Natasha approached a wall panel and pried it open effortlessly. Inside, wires had been sliced. Intentionally. However, there were no explosives. No traps could be seen anywhere either. It was all just… closure.

“They stripped this place surgically,” She said. “No fingerprints, no traces. It’s like they wanted us to know they were here… but not who they are.”

Steve closed the monitor with a clenched jaw. “This wasn’t a base. It was a decoy.”

“No,” Bucky said suddenly. His voice was soft but steady. “It was a base. It just outlived its usefulness.”

They all turned toward him. He looked at the empty room, the missing equipment, and the quiet hallways. Then, to the message. And for a moment, something shifted in his eyes. Guilt, maybe or something deeper.

“They planned for this,” He murmured. “Someone told them exactly how we’d come.”

No one responded, but no one needed to. Because they were all thinking it.

The debrief room was thick with a heavy silence, the kind that pressed down harder than shouting. Ghost-blue blueprints and photos of the abandoned compound still flickered on the monitors, reminders of how quickly their plan had unraveled. Notes about the missing equipment and the chilling message on the screen scrolled slowly, marking everything they should have anticipated.

Steve hadn’t sat once since they returned. He stood rigid at the head of the table, hands braced on his hips, and a deep furrow like it was etched there permanently. Sam had stopped pacing but his leg bounced nervously, jaw clenched tight. Natasha’s fingers tapped against her thigh in a rhythm so steady it barely seemed voluntary.

Only Bucky remained perfectly still, arms crossed, and eyes locked on the screen across the room. He said very little since they’d left the empty compound since that message haunted him.

Too late, Captain.

The words weren’t just text; they carried a weight, a deliberate coldness that dug into Bucky’s mind. Whoever had left it knew him. Not just the soldier, but his moves, his instincts. And worse, their enemy had used the knowledge you once held to outmaneuver them.

The memory played on loop in his mind. Not just the words but the feel of them. The calculation in them. Whoever was behind that terminal… knew him. Not just facts. His patterns.

And maybe worse than that, they’d used your knowledge to do it. They probably used you to do it.

The door hissed open.

She stepped in with her usual soft elegance, cradling a fresh cup of tea between her hands like she had no idea anything had gone wrong. Dressed casual, warm, and comfortable. Like she belonged. Like she didn’t feel the same tension that pulled everyone else taut. The one you used to be jealous of had sat out for the mission after all.

“Oh,” She said lightly. “You’re all back already.”

Her tone wasn’t mocking. If anything, it was gently surprised, as if she’d simply walked into a meeting that ended early. Steve didn’t answer right away. Neither did the others.

She blinked, smile sweet and expectant, like someone unaware they were intruding. “Was it a short mission?”

“We were too late,” Steve said flatly, straightening.

Her brows lifted, and she crossed to the table, setting the tea down. “Really? That’s unfortunate. I thought it was just one of those cleanup things. You all make those look so easy.”

Sam looked over, jaw tight. “They cleaned up, alright. Took every last trace of themselves. Left us a polite message, too.”

“They knew how we’d approach,” Natasha added with her arms crossed now. “Like they knew our pattern. Our flow. They stripped the place within hours of our arrival window.”

“Hmm.” She tapped a fingernail against the ceramic. “That’s strange. Maybe they had inside intel?”

“No,” Steve spoke, narrowing his eyes. “Not unless someone studied us long before they left.”

“Oh.” She blinked, tilting her head. “So… do you think your old administrator friend told them?”

Bucky stiffened.

Natasha’s voice was sharper now, eyes narrowing. “She’s not our anything.”

That seemed to amuse her. She let out a light laugh, the kind meant to dissolve tension, not that anyone was asking for it. “Well, you’re not wrong,” She smiled. “ She didn’t really fit in here anyways, did she?”

Bruce, who had been mostly quiet, looked up sharply. “She worked here for over two years.”

She didn’t seem phased. There was no malice on her face actually. Just soft confidence.

“I guess I didn’t think she’d be important,” She sighed simply. “Kind of kept to herself. I always assumed she’d move on.”

Sam stood, voice tight. “She did. Straight into the hands of the people trying to tear us apart.”

Her smile faltered just a touch. “I didn’t mean—look, I’m sure she was… sweet. I just don’t see how it helps to chase after someone who clearly didn’t want to be here. Don’t you think she made her choice?”

Steve’s eyes narrowed. “We don’t know that yet.”

“I mean, sure,” She said gently, “But if she’s really that dangerous, wouldn’t you have noticed before she left? You didn’t even realize she was gone until weeks later, right?”

Bucky shifted slightly. The burn in his chest deepened. Not from her words exactly, but from how true they rang.

They hadn’t noticed. They hadn’t looked.

The woman moved closer to Bucky, noticing his subtle distress as she rested her hand lightly on Bucky’s shoulder.

“I just worry about you,” She confessed softly, smiling up at him. “You’re all stretched so thin already. I’d hate to see you waste energy chasing ghosts.”

Her hand lingered. But Bucky’s jaw clenched, and for once, he didn’t lean into her touch.

“She’s not a ghost,” He muttered. “She’s a mirror. Of everything we missed.”

Her expression flickered for barely a moment. Then the sweet smile returned.

“Well, if you have to go after her,” She brushed her hand away, her expression turning more solemn. A hint of pity evident, “I hope you’re prepared for what you find. Sometimes people change… and not always in ways you can fix. I don’t want you to be hurt.”

She reached for her tea again, her fingers wrapping around the cup like it was an anchor.

“And if you do decide to keep going after her, well.” She gave a gentle little laugh, looking around with open, innocent eyes. “I hope it goes well. I really mean that. And if you need my help at all… just let me know. I’m always happy to support the team.”

The door hissed softly behind her as she walked out, quiet heels tapping against the floor in steady, graceful rhythm.

The rest of the team stood in silence for a few long seconds, each lost in their own storm of thoughts.

Steve broke it first.

“We move forward. We stop that organization before it spreads deeper.”

“And if she’s helping them willingly?” Sam asked, his voice low.

Steve hesitated.

So, Bucky answered instead.

“Then we stop her, too.”

Taglist: @herejustforbuckybarnes @iyskgd @torntaltos @julesandgems @maesmayhem @w-h0re @pookalicious-hq @parkerslivia @whisperingwillowxox @stell404 @wingstoyourdreams @seventeen-x @mahimagi @viktor-enjoyer @vicmc624 @msbyjackal @winchestert101 @greatenthusiasttidalwave

#The One You Don’t See #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #marvel x reader #marvel fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky x you #avengers fic #chapter 5

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slashersiren · 24 days ago

Note

I loved your take on yautja x superpowered human. It gave me more idea of an ask 😅 (if you don’t mind 🥹). So I was thinking after their clashes again and again, the predator and the superhuman actually fall for each other. And in near future, they do end up having their own pups. When it comes to appearances, they take after their yautja dad, but end up inheriting their mother’s superpowers. So now you have got literal naturally genetically superpowered new yautja type. How would his clan react to this union? Would they be sceptical about this union or would they actually see it as a win win situation?

Here you go🫶🏻

Yautja x Superpowered Reader

Bloodlines (I swear I didnt copy the new Final Destination movie lmaooooo)

The ship cracked through the planet’s atmosphere like a war cry. Inside, cloaked in shadow and silver light, stood the warrior they once knew.. undefeated, unrelenting but he was no longer alone. She stood beside him, radiant as the stars he crossed to reach her, eyes sharp with power, body wrapped in armor of her own design. She didn’t need it, of course. Her skin was tougher than metal and her heart.. was far harder to win than any hunt he’d ever completed. Yet here she was, his mate. Not because he conquered her. Because he couldn’t.. and because she didn’t want to live without him either. Their story wasn’t one the Elders would sing in praise. It began in blood. In combat. The first time they clashed, she knocked him unconscious in seconds. He woke up humiliated and enthralled. She laughed at him. Called him “trophy boy.” Let him live. He came back. Again and again. Until it wasn’t about the hunt anymore. It was about her.

Now, years later, they returned with children. Three of them. Small, spined things with Yautja skin and dreadlocks but glowing eyes, floating footsteps, and power that rippled through the ship like a low, endless hum. They were still young, but their strength was undeniable. One had ripped the cargo door off mid-tantrum. The other could speak six languages by age two, including Yautja war-code and ancient Earth dialects. And the third? The third had already tracked a prey without a single tool, using only instinct. Her instinct. And his precision. They were… evolution. However evolution didn’t always mean acceptance, not for the elders.

At the Clan’s Gathering Hall he walked into the circle with pride. She followed silent, letting her presence speak louder than her words. And the children? They padded forward, unafraid, their strange energy rattling the sensors of half the warriors nearby. The murmurs were instant.

“Soft-blood.”

The High Elder approached slowly, eyes locked on the hunter.

“You’re a rule-breaker. You bring an outsider. A female who bested you in combat.. and worse, you call her mate.”

He growled, low and deep.

“She raised warriors stronger than your bloodlines can even comprehend.”

The woman stepped forward, voice amused yet cold and calculated.

“You want to reject power because it’s not pure? Then stay weak. I don’t need your approval.”

The room shifted. What was once offense… now looked like salvation.

A new bloodline. Stronger. Smarter. Emotionally unbreakable and physically superior. Half predator, half celestial. The Elder turned, facing the circle.

“Will they fight for us?”

The mother’s smile was wicked.

“Only if they choose to. They’re not weapons.”

Her mate placed a hand on her lower back.

“They’ll fight for what they protect. And what they love. Like their mother.”

He growled.

Later That Night on the highest rooftop of the clan tower, she sat with him, watching the city pulse below.

“Still think I’m a soft-blood?”

She teased. He clicked low, pulling her into his lap. They looked out towards the horizon, where three tiny shapes raced each other glowing, cloaking, crashing into trees. He watched with pride. She watched with love. Together, they waited for the universe to realize what they created: Not just a family. A future.

#yautja x you #yautja x reader #yautja fanfic #yautja x human #predator x reader #yautja predator #predator x you #monster x human #monster fudger #monster fucker #monster fic #monster fluff

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super-ion · 7 months ago

Text

The Engineer

Part 1

I catch a glimpse of the pilot as she is wheeled towards the med bay. Her eyes have that telltale glaze of just having been wrenched out of herself.

I've never spoken a single word to her, but for a moment as the gurney slides by, those eyes briefly clear, ice blue pinning me to the spot. She raises an emaciated arm and her hand almost seems to beckon to me before something in the gurney clicks and whirs and she slips back into catatonia.

That brief moment of clarity, that piercing gaze, unsettles me. She recognized me.

It's neural bleed. I know it has to be. She doesn't know me, but Morrigan does.

Good god. In the pilot's present state of post combat haze, she probably doesn't even know where she ends and the machine begins.

Does neural bleed work both ways? Is it her head that I'm about to climb into?

My wrist strap buzzes. I have a job to do and I am late.

The pilot is a problem for the med team and the psychs.

The machine is my problem.

I hurry down the corridor, keeping my head down, avoiding the eyes of every passerby.

I don't like people.

I don't like how their eyes follow me. I don't like the whispered gossip that follows me.

One of the techs is waiting for me at the vestibule.

I don't know his name.

All clear, he says to me. Time to work your magic.

He says it without sarcasm. Others have been less kind.

Even so, he can't quite hide the leer as I strip down to the skinsuit. I don't have the physique of a pilot. My body hasn't been subjected to the stresses that ravage their bodies. Unlike them, I have fat and muscle and the skinsuit clings to every curve of my body.

I force a cursory smile and try to forget him as I walk barefoot to my destination.

The vestibule is small, windowless. It's impossible to assess the scale of the machine from here. The only part visible to me is roughly four square meters of pitted and scarred metal plating framing the access hatch and the pilot's cradle beyond.

B0-987T the stenciled lettering reads. And below, in flowing script, is “The Morrigan”.

She's a Javellin class, medium weapons fire support unit. She isn't meant to be on the front lines in a skirmish, but one-on-one, she can hold her own against a Wraith. Which is exactly what happened only a few hours ago.

I place a bare palm on the bulkhead. She thrums with some distant vibration. Her reactor is still online, still in the early stages of drawdown as she transitions to dock power.

“Hey beautiful,” I say to her.

I think of the pilot. I think of piercing blue eyes and I think of neural bleed.

I flinch my hand away.

The tech looks at me, asks if I'm alright. I'm fine, I tell him.

I climb through the hatch and into the cradle.

I feel like an interloper here. The cradle isn't calibrated for my body. Everything still smells like the pilot. Mingled with the smell of the machine is her sweat and her adrenaline and the particular scented soap that she prefers.

There is a faint whirring as her cameras track my movements from a dozen angles. The access ports open to receive me.

Against my better judgment, I imagine eagerness for this exchange.

This is immediately followed by an all too familiar sense of inadequacy. The engineers’ rig is not nearly as all encompassing as a pilots’. It's only the most basic neural interface. No haptics. No neurotransmitter feedback. No access to the suite of sensors studded throughout her hull.

I can't interface with her the way her pilot can.

My rig is a remnant from basic training. The pilot corps wanted me for my exceptional ratings in synchrony and neuro-elasticity, but after serval training exercises, they determined that I didn't have the temperament for the battlefield. I froze up too easily.

A neural rig is a massive investment and removing one will fuck a person up a hell of a lot more than installing one. The selection process is designed to weed out washouts before we even get to installation, but some of us still slip through the cracks. Most end up reassigned to logistics, operating loader mechs or piloting long haul supply frigates. But my aptitudes made me ideal for the engineering corps, so here I am.

Morrigan senses my mood and the cradle shifts slightly, aligning itself to my dimensions. Her eagerness to connect morphs into a sort of tender reassurance. It's a slippery slope, ascribing human emotions to these machines, but she does seem genuinely happy to see me.

I can never be part of what she and her pilot have, but I can be part of something in my own way.

The pilot knows about me, she would even without neural bleed. Does she envy the relationship I have with her mech? Does she envy that I can exist both together and apart with the machine?

Is she jealous of us?

Morrigan slips her jacks into my rig and my mind enters hers and I feel tension leave my body. Some dull ache that I wasn't even consciously aware of ebbs within me.

My senses dull and my visual cortex is fed a series of diagnostic logs and telemetry streams. The techs have access to the exact same data, but Morrigan highlights particular data points that she and the pilot flagged. I log them in the engineering report.

A wireframe schematic of the battlefield spreads out in my awareness. Green markers for our battlegroup. Red markers for the pack of Wraith interlopers.

I hear the ghost of music, strange and ambient, like whale song. The first time I heard it, I asked the techs about it. They had no idea what I was talking about. One even suggested I get an eval for some psych leave.

Later I realized Morrigan was singing to me. Or rather she was interpreting tightbeam comm links as something my brain could process. A human mind can't possibly interpret the full datastream, but with Morrigans's rendition, I can suss out the basic meanings. The battlegroup is a choir and Morrigan is playing me their song.

I caused quite a stir when I first made that connection and started flagging battle events the analysts had missed.

I survey the battlefield before me, reconstructed from feeds from TacCom and all the individual mechs.

Morrigan and I have done this enough times that she knows my preferred display layout, but she holds back, allowing me to pull off the virtual displays on my peripheral vision. There's an odd sort of intimacy to it, her letting me take charge like this.

God-knows how many tons of metal and ceramic and miles and miles of wire and optic fiber and see waits eagerly for me to start the playback sim. She wants to show off. She wants me to assess the actions of her and her pilot and tell them they did well.

Other engineers, few as we are, have mentioned similar experiences with their assigned machines.

“Alright,” I whisper so that only she can hear. “Show me the dance. Sing me the song.”

(Next)

#my writing #writers on tumblr #mechposting #science fiction #scifi #short story #snippet

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thisisntmyrightera · 5 months ago

Text

Together - CHO HYUN-JU x Fem Reader Part 5

Summary: Reader is scammed and abandoned by her boyfriend, leaving her alone in South Korea to her fate, so in desperate search of a solution to return to her home country she decides to join the squid games to get money, within the game she meets a couple of people who become her friends and could possibly be something more.

Warning: Violence, homophobia mention of attempted rape and sexist language

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''Get on the floor, I'll be on top of you, don't open your eyes or make any noise, no matter what happens or what you hear, don't move, do you understand?''

Those words from Hyun-Ju repeated themselves in my head as we slowly descended the stairs from the beds without making a sound.

She was in front of me, holding my hand, no one made a single noise as everyone went down to their respective hiding place.

Once down in the darkness, I could feel her hand take my shoulder, indicating that I should crouch down, with my chest on the floor, I slid under the bed, crossing my arms against the floor, hiding my face between them as I closed my eyes.

I could feel Hyun-Ju's weight on me, her chest pressed against my back as she breathed heavily without making a sound, her arms around my head and her legs around mine, making it impossible for me to move a single centimeter.

From one second to the next the screams of people being killed and those who killed them was the only sound around as some cursed each other, structures falling and bodies crashing against the floor.

Shh… I'm here - Hyun-Ju whispered in my ear placing her hands on my ears trying to silence the chaos around me, but I could still notice it, it was impossible not to notice the hatred in that room

''When the lights turn on and the soldiers intervene, they will control the situation''

That made sense when the door alarm sounded.

Now - Hyun-Ju said whispering getting off of me pulling my arm to leave me in sight of the soldiers, carefully I took some blood from the floor placing it on my clothes, Hyun-Ju barely managed to stain her hands and lay down next to me both pretending to be dead in that pitched battle.

''They're going to be busy stopping those who fight and they're not going to pay attention to the dead, they're going to start scanning the fallen to verify their identity then…we attack them''

Gi-Hun was the first to attack and when I felt the cold sensor of a guard on my neck to scan my pulse, it was my turn.

My legs pushed up, surrounding the guard's neck as well as his arms allowing Hyun-Ju to take the gun from his belt and shoot him in the head.

STAND BEHIND ME - She screamed pushing me quickly while shooting at the guards, one after another fell but out of nowhere others appeared

It was when I was able to reach one of the many fallen soldiers taking the gun from his belt aiming at one of the guards who was approaching from the bed shelves, hitting him in the chest making him fall to the floor

Another shot, towards another soldier, one who was approaching from behind us hitting him in the forehead.

What are you doing? - Hyun-Ju looked at me as she changed her weapon to a machine gun

Shut up - I pointed at her firing over her shoulder, shooting at the guard who was approaching from behind - shoot and stop looking at me

Yes ma'am - she loaded her weapon firing around, with military precision that made one soldier after another fall with one shot

''Attention, retreat'' the speaker talk

All the soldiers ran towards the door making it easier to target the shots, only a few were able to get out, one more stayed inside and surrendered dropping his weapons.

STOP FIRE! DO NOT SHOOT ANYMORE - Gi-Hun shouted making us lower our weapons looking around looking for someone who was still alive and was about to attack

Is… Is there something else you do that I don't know? - Hyun-Ju looked at me breathing heavily

I'll show you later - I smiled at her climbing onto the bed platform shooting at the camera, then at the other while Hyun-Ju shot at the rest until finishing off all the ones surrounding the room - are you okay? - I looked at Dae-Ho hiding behind an overturned bed covering his ears - Dae-Ho?…- I lightly touched his shoulder making him jump screaming and look at me scared

YN… are you… are you…- he looked at me upset smiling as he stood up

Are you okay?…- I looked at him curiously as I noticed how he rubbed his hands and quickly arranged his hair behind his ears

Yes I… everything… everything okay, how are you? - she smiled without stopping moving

Okay.. - i told him

YN..come with me - Hyun-Ju called me making my attention return to her while she went to where 246 organized the ammunition and weapons he found - is something wrong? - she looked at me curiously while I directed my gaze back to Dae-Ho

I don't know… didn't Dae-Ho say he was a marine? - I looked at her curiously while I left my weapon on the mattress with the rest

I don't know, listen to me we're going out and I want you to stay here understood? - she looked at me adjusting her weapon on her shoulder

No…but Hyun-Ju I want to go with you…

No, I'm not going to let you go out and it's not something to discuss, you're going to stay here understood? - her hand slowly and carefully arranged my hair behind my ear mockingly while i rolled my eyes annoyed- you're going to wait for me here and when I come back we'll leave ok?

And what happens if you don't come back?…- I looked at her crossing my arms annoyed of following her decisions - then you'll go from here and live your life understood? you'll be very happy and you'll never accept proposals from strangers again - she smiled at me bringing her hands to her neck opening her necklace and then placing it around my neck and tying it - as long as you wear this necklace I'll be with you and I already know that you're not afraid of anything, but even so I'll always take care of you okay?

Please come back okay? - I hugged her tightly, surrounding her body with my arms while she wrapped her arms around my shoulders and took a deep breath trying not to show fear

I'll be back, I promise - she smiled against my hair, barely kissing my forehead as she moved away from me a little and smiled - I think you can do something to help

What is it? - I looked at her, following her to where the rest of the men were holding a gun. She took a machine gun from the mattress and looked at me, offering it to me - do you want to learn how to use it?

Yes..- I smiled at her nodding as I took it and she adjusted the one hanging from her shoulder between her hands watching as some of the men had difficulty using it, including Dae-Ho

Hyun-Ju sounded so natural explaining how to use the weapon, as she removed the magazine and put it back in explaining how to take off the safety, reload and how to adjust the number of bullets to fire, everyone paying attention to her following her orders

Gi-Hun - Hyun-Ju called him nervously with some respect in her voice- Y/N will stay here, she…she will take care of whoever stays in this room

That's fine…thanks - Gi-Hun looked at me smiling a little nodding approving Hyun-Ju's decision

After that, everyone left taking the guard as a hostage, I could barely look at them turning quickly heading to where Geum-Ja and Yong-Sik were sitting next to them while taking a breath trying to stop my tears from falling

She will come back baby, trust me - Geum-Ja hugged me rubbing my back - don't worry

Y/N… you are… very brave - Yong-Sik looked at me nervously adjusting his glasses- I didn't know you could shoot

Thanks Yong-Sik - I smiled shyly as I felt everyone's gazes on me

Too brave, you are a woman after all and we will always be the strongest - Geum-Ja smiled at me looking around with the many gazes of the men on me- all of you should feel ashamed for not going out to defend your people, damn cowards, let me be an example of how a woman will take care of her asses

Mom… stop.. - Yong-Sik looked at her nervously sitting down while trying to calm his mother - why don' you... tell us Y/N how do you know how to shoot, you too Are you a soldier or something like Hyun-Ju?

No..I'm not, I have two older brothers and where I come from hunting is common, I learned to use a gun when I was a child and when my older brother enlisted in the army he…helped me perfect my shooting, he said it was just in case - I smiled shyly looking at the floor while holding the gun tightly

Ah..I see - he smiled curiously - I see why you are so brave it's…nice how you and Hyun-Ju found each other and both take care of each other, I wish I could find someone like that

Geum-Ja patted his back giving her just a few words when we all stayed silent listening to the shots in the distance, there was no pause, one shot after another came out of the weapons

Afterwards they stopped for a couple of minutes, everything was silent, not even the echo of the shots could be distinguished from the silence around making the pressure in the environment still felt Worse

You know…what's the best of all? - Yong-Sik looked at me breathing nervously and slowly - when Hyun-Ju and you have babies…and they ask you what their mother taught you, you'll tell them that she taught you to use a machine gun and not something boring at home.

Oh Yong-Sik - Geum-Ja sighed covering her face while I couldn't control a small laughter making Yong-Sik look at us disoriented not knowing if he had said something offensive but clearly he had made the atmosphere lighter

That would be nice Yong-Sik..- I smiled at him pushing him a little making him smile

Afterwards…again the shots, one after another without pause, not even giving the echo a chance to resonate in the place, each time, it diminished a little more, one weapon after another was silenced and in my mind, I only prayed that the weapon that kept firing was Hyun-Ju's

Calm down..-Geum-Ja took my hand - let's trust her

Magazine…magazine in the suits - Dae-Ho ran in nervously stumbling

Dae-Ho?…-I got up quickly going to him while running from one side to the other - Dae-Ho what are you doing?

I came for this..-he looked at me nervously showing me the magazines - the guards have ammunition in their suits I need all that they have

Okay, I'll help you - I dropped my weapon on my shoulder searching through all the soldiers' suits and leaving them on a bloody sweater - these are all I found, are they enough?

Yes…yes - he looked at me nodding nervously trying to leave quickly while hugging the ammunition in his arms

Dae-Ho..Hyun-Ju is okay? - I stopped him, watching as his face changed rapidly, his gaze no longer seemed innocent or nervous, his hands stopped shaking and tightened the green cloth that surrounded the ammunition and his lips pursed, making his jaw stand out

I don't know… she separated from the group..- he looked at me, leaving quickly, almost running, leaving me static in place

A couple of seconds later, he returned with a lost look dragging his feet without saying a single word

Dae-Ho?..- we all followed him with our eyes while he walked aimlessly - Dae-Ho where are the others?…where is Hyun-Ju?..- I reached him taking him by the arm making him look at me in silence- WHAT HAPPENED TO HYUN-JU- I held him moving him trying to get him to tell me something but he only looked at me in silence and shook his head getting out of my hand heading towards a dark place..

Fuck - I took the gun and a charger running towards the door feeling a tug on my arm that made me stop

where are you going? Hyun-Ju told you not to go out there..- Geum-Ja looked at me with wet eyes - don't go

She needs me and I'm not going to let her die like that, hide and if something happens don't come out of where you hid okay? - I took her hand for the last time before running away looking around

I went up and down one staircase after another following the sound of the shots pointing the gun forward hoping to find a soldier in a pink uniform and shoot him, but I only found their bodies lying around.

I continued my way until I turned right and found a purple, long and lonely hallway that led to a dark door, with no one in it, no bodies or armed people

I went up slowly, pointing forward looking around looking for cameras that could interfere with my alibi, but it seemed like everything was clean.

A couple of steps separated me from that door, I was so close when I felt cold on my head, something firm and icy that made me stop breathing while I froze

Drop the gun… - I could hear the distorted voice behind the mask, without thinking I slowly took out the gun while I slowly crouched down leaving it on the floor and raised my hands getting up again - walk… - this time the cold object moved from my head to the center of my back pushing me to go back the way I had taken before, again I returned to the room where all the other players were…

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Hyun-Ju POV

DAE-HO…Dae-ho…where are you? - My eyes moved around the room looking for him while everyone looked at me and Geum-Ja pointed with her trembling hand to one side of the room between the darkness and piled up mattresses - Dae-Ho, did something happen? Are you okay?

His gaze was lost while his body trembled and he stammered incoherently

Dae-Ho… - I took him by the shoulders slowly making him jump scared covering his face shouting - Where is the ammunition?

He looked at me but didn't answer, he just trembled and stammered

Hyun-Ju…- I heard Geum-Ja's voice calling me while she took the chargers from between Dae-Ho's legs that were still on a bloody sweater - Hyun…Hyun-Ju…

Her hand took my arm, making me turn to look at her with wet eyes and trembling hands while she held on tightly to the fabric of my sweater, her voice seemed to say something but no words came out

Where is Y/N..? - I looked at her understanding her concern - where…where is she?

Geum-Ja just covered her face sobbing while Yong-Sik took her arms to hold her

She… left when Dae-Ho could no longer get out… she said she would go help you because you would need her…- Yong-Sik looked at me with his wet eyes

No… NO, WHY DID THEY LET HER GO - I looked at them feeling my heart jump uncontrollably while my trembling hands grabbed the magazines I could to run out to look for her

''Come in'' sounded on the speaker making the doors open at the same time letting in the soldiers who were shooting into the air making me stop and hiding between the beds so I could change the magazine and shoot them one by one to get out again

No..- A warm hand took my hand stopping me making me turn around looking at Geum-Ja while tears ran down her face - not like that… you must not die like that….

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Alexa play a sad song cause the next episode is the last one..

With the next episode I will end this story, it will have two alternative endings which will be tagged at the end and everyone will decide which one you want to read, if you are team ANGST or team FLUFF you decide.

Thank you all for reading, I really appreciate you, your messages and comments make me feel very happy and complete.

Thanks for reading, I'll be back soon!

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marlynnofmany · 26 days ago

Text

Dangerous Teeth

As I watched the struggle with the door mechanism, I thought again that it was good we’d gotten our delivery done early. Planetary time zones being what they are, it’s usually inconvenient to land at a spaceport in the pre-dawn, while everyone on our ship is wide awake. Nothing to do but wait until the clients are ready to receive whatever we’re bringing them. Today though, our client was an early riser. I’d taken a short walk from the ship with Mur and Paint, and we’d dropped off three lightweight boxes of exotic moss. Then we were free to stop by the local food court as soon as it opened.

It wasn’t open yet, which is why we’d picked this nice little garden lounge to wait. It was indoors with artificial sun. It had a single door. That door had just thrown a rod or whatever, and now it refused to open again.

I sat on a low bench (awkwardly low) and watched while Mur and a Waterwill who’d also gotten stuck in here pried off the panel over the door mechanism. I would have liked to help somehow, but all my expertise was in biological things, not technological. Plus my fingers were nowhere near as maneuverable as Mur’s tentacles or whatever the Waterwills called their extendable tendrils. This one was making some very tiny ones, not the usual arm-chunks. Fingers would be no help here.

And Paint was handling the phone calls: she’d brought a bag with many pockets, planning to fill it with food, but so far all it contained was her communicator, and she was putting that to good use. She’d already notified our ship. Now she was trying to get ahold of someone official who could send a mechanic. She paced back and forth, rattling claws across her arm scales and speaking intensely.

That left me with nothing to do except sample the local snackberries, which were rooted in a pot next to the bench with a detailed sign about which species could safely eat them. Each branch was grafted from a different plant. There was an elaborate chart on that sign. As usual, the section for humans showed that we could eat every single berry there. Oh, and there were nuts too. Nice.

I tried something like a pistachio with a spiky shell, decided it was extremely average, then entertained myself briefly with the compost can next to the sign. The motion sensor / scanning field at the top of it would open only for acceptable compost. Any other trash was the responsibility of whoever brought it in here. I tossed the two shell halves in one at a time, watched the mini force field blink on and off, then looked for more nuts to do it again.

A quiet hello made me crane my neck in confusion. There was no way the bush could talk, right? Alien gene-splicing wouldn’t have gone that far. But thankfully no, it wasn’t science with questionable morals; it was somebody hiding on the other side.

“Hello!” I said, trying to get a better look. “Sorry, I didn’t see you back there.”

“That’s good,” said the brown-furred fellow huddled among the berries. “Maybe no one else will either.”

I glanced back at the door, but saw just my two coworkers and the Waterwill, none of whom were paying attention. I asked quietly, “Are you hiding from someone specific?”

“No,” he said, not elaborating. He took a mouthful of something green, and for a moment I thought he was eating the leaves of the berry bush, which weren’t on the list of edible items. But he lifted it higher for a second bite, and I could identify a handful of grasslike stuff from a different food pot. The fast-growing lettuce area. A herbivore specialty.

I told him, “I don’t think you have anyone to be afraid of here.”

He didn’t answer for a moment, just looking around with wide eyes and eating the rest of his handful of grass. His teeth were distinctly the gnawing sort. Finally, he asked, “Do you know how long it will take to get the door open?”

“Hard to say.” I turned back to see Mur and the Waterwill talking animatedly, the door still firmly shut. Paint looked like she was on hold. “Hopefully not long. If they can’t figure it out, the maintenance people should be able to open it from the other side.”

“I’ve seen them,” was the quiet response. “They’re scary.”

“The maintenance crew? Scary how?”

The guy got even quieter. “Flesh-eaters. There are so many here. I didn’t know when I came.”

I thought about my answer very carefully. “You know that none of them want to eat you, right? That sort of thing is horrifying to civilized society as a whole.”

The guy twitched his ears, which I hadn’t realized were folded back, in scared rabbit style. “They said that. Not sure if I believe it yet.”

“Society couldn’t function if people went around eating each other!” I insisted. “Think about it. People need to trust one another to some degree, otherwise they wouldn’t be able to cooperate when they’re all living together in the same place. Food comes from the food stores. Anyone who hurts another person intentionally is likely to get in trouble with the authorities. And that’s for small things, much less full-on killing and eating them!”

He twitched his nose, very rabbitlike. “But with all those sharp teeth, don’t they get tempted? Aren’t flesh-eaters hardwired to crave flesh when they’re hungry?”

“Not from other people who can talk back to them,” I said. “And most of the flesh-eaters I know prefer to cook their food.”

He bared his gnawing teeth. “Burning the flesh before they eat it. Horrifying.”

I wanted to ask if his people didn’t cook their food, since plenty of plants gave up more nutrition when softened like that, but I thought better of it. The answer was probably no, and he would ask about my people’s food, and that was a topic I wanted to steer well clear of. The poor guy had seen me eating plants and made an assumption that I wasn’t eager to correct.

Then, in what felt like very bad timing, Paint put her communicator away and walked back over. I winced. For probably the first time ever, I looked at the gentlest person on our ship, and really noticed her sharp teeth and claws.

Paint told me, “They said someone will be on the way soon. I couldn’t get them to specify soon exactly. Somehow this doesn’t seem like a high priority to them.” She frowned.

“That’s unfortunate,” I said. “Would you like to try a berry? There’s a chart here that says which is safe for who.”

“Goodness, what a lot of choices!” Paint looked at the chart, then at the bush. Then she bent down and peered between the branches. “Hello back there!”

The rabbity guy was silent, frozen in place like a very frightened lawn decoration. He didn’t even blink.

I sighed, then told her quietly, “He’s afraid of flesh-eaters.”

Paint looked stricken. “Oh no! Why?”

“Because he’s made of flesh.”

“But so is everybody!” Paint exclaimed. “No one’s going to eat him!” She looked back into the bush. “Nobody wants to eat you. I promise.”

The guy seemed to be making a conscious effort to take deep breaths. “What about them?” he whispered, pointing a paw-hand toward the pair still working on the door. “I heard them talk about the breakfast they’re looking forward to. They mentioned creatures with fur and gnawing teeth.”

“That was—” Paint said. “They didn’t mean you! Mur was talking about an animal from his planet, a little one that’s not a person. They’re about this big, and they meet absolutely none of the criteria for sapient beings.” She held her hands a few inches apart. “He wants to get food from the stalls at the food court like everybody else.”

I nodded. “That’s what I’ve been saying.”

Paint nodded even more vigorously. “See? Robin knows. She's the animal expert, the person to ask about which type of creature would attack another.”

I opened my mouth to add something else, but Paint was still talking.

“And her species eats everything, so she knows about it from all sides!”

The guy made a little erk noise, and I sighed. “That’s less helpful,” I told Paint.

She seemed to be realizing that herself. “Sorry,” she said to me, then addressed the guy in the bush. “I thought you knew! But really, that just proves our point. You’ve been next to a flesh-eater all this time, and nobody’s tried to bite you.”

I agreed, “Just these berries.” I popped another one into my mouth, then regretted it. “Ugh, that one’s sour.”

Paint consulted the chart. “I think it’s called a sourbud.”

“That makes sense. Bluh. I got it mixed up with these other whatsits, the sunsweet ones. Similar color.”

“Very different smell, though,” Paint said with sniff like a wine connoisseur.

“Yes, we both know about your sense of smell.”

“Ooh, what are these? They smell amazing.”

The two of us talked for a bit about the various snack plants, deliberately ignoring the quiet rabbit guy, giving him time to process our very nonthreatening attitudes.

I was starting to suspect that he’d stay hidden in the bush until the maintenance crew came and went, but eventually there was a quiet rustle of leaves. With his eyes still wide and his motions timid, he took a seat on the far end of the bench.

Paint was still standing, and greeted him from a safe distance. “Good to see you! Would you like a berry? We can help you find the best ones.”

He was very brave and said yes. We consulted the chart and his preferences in flavor, and spent a few friendly minutes selecting berries. When it became clear that we weren’t going to make any surprise lunges at him, he gradually relaxed. His ears really did look like a rabbit’s when he let them stand up straight.

Mur yelled, “Aha!”

I looked up to see him with most of his tentacles braced against the wall, pulling hard on something that looked like a cable. I worried that he was about to either electrocute himself or destroy the mechanism completely, then I saw the small leaves.

It was a vine, and it had grown up inside the electronics panel. The various plants lined up along the wall looked carefully cultivated, but somebody had missed this one. If the leaves sprouting from the flowerpot closest to the door were as familiar as they looked, then that was probably the culprit. The visible plants were all wrapped around a decorative spiral frame. I had a sneaking suspicion that the drainage holes at the bottom of that pot were big enough for rebellious roots to sneak out, and take unauthorized journeys.

Mur called, “Anybody got a blade? This is a tough one.”

“I don’t. Paint?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I only brought the communicator. Too bad we don’t have Zhee or Trrili with us. They could probably make short work of it.”

While their praying mantis blade arms could have done it, I thought of a better idea. I said with a smile, “You know who else could? Our friend here with the gnawing teeth.”

He looked startled, but not afraid. “What, me?”

“Sure! Out of everyone here, you’re the only one whose teeth are built for slicing through tough plants with ease. Care to show us how it’s done and save the day?”

It took a little encouraging, but not as much as I’d expected. We checked the signage near the pot first, just to be sure I wasn’t urging him to chew on something toxic, and we confirmed that this was the same type of plant. Mur hauled as much of it into the open as he could, which wasn’t much. The Waterwill held various door bits in place. Then the rabbity guy stepped forward and was brave enough to put his head close to Mur’s tentacles.

He bit through the vine with a couple of swift chomps, separating the middle segment right where Mur had suggested.

“Nice work!” Mur said, moving the remainder of the vine. “Now we can tuck the rest of this nonsense to the side and reassemble the parts where they’re supposed to be.”

The Waterwill said, “Already on it,” reshaping one water tendril and maneuvering it around like a locksmith.

Paint looked up at the hero of the hour, who was still holding the segment of vine. “Hooray, you did it! Do you want more berries to celebrate?”

“Yes please,” he said, still breathing a little quickly. “That tasted terrible.”

We got him some of the berries that he liked best, then heard a promising klunk and more celebration. The door trundled open.

Mur made cheerful burbling noises. “Go team!”

“Quick, everybody out before it does something else bizarre!” said the Waterwill, immediately scooting out into the open.

Nobody was about to argue that point. We all hurried outside to where we wouldn’t be trapped again, then waved goodbye to the Waterwill. Paint called the officials back with an update on what kind of problem the mechanics would need to fix.

Mur said, “I’m off to the food court. It’ll definitely be open by now.”

“We’ll be right behind you,” I told him.

He spun off in a whirl of tentacles. I looked down at the rabbity fellow, who looked small now that I was standing up. But he stood taller than he had all morning.

I said, “Thanks again.”

He twitched his ears happily and said, “It was my pleasure!” He sounded a bit surprised by that.

“Off to get your own breakfast?”

He nodded decisively. “Yes. And no one’s going to bite me.”

“Right!” I agreed. “Even if they did, you could bite them right back!”

He smiled a fierce little rabbit smile, then scampered off into the spaceport.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

#my writing #The Token Human #humans are weird #and so are the aliens #haso #hfy #eiad #humans are space orcs #science fiction

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artificial-transmutations · 10 months ago

Text

The wedding getaway

A mile in each other's shoes

"Oh, come on, you can't be serious."

Lance groaned and looked at Lisa, the bride's maid, who in turn didn't appear all that amused either, although for different reasons. She smiled a sweet and poisonous smile as she answered.

"Yes, I am, Lance. Dead serious. Apparently, you have no idea how difficult it is to find a hotel with enough free rooms on a Caribbean island in the middle of spring break."

Before Lance could answer anything, she continued with a sharp voice.

"Or how expensive. So, yes, I'm afraid you have to share your suite with one of the other singles for the duration of your all-inclusive stay. Deal with it."

Lance took a deep breath and fought down the urge to say something very inappropriate. Lisa was probably right, and he wouldn't die from having to share a room with one of the other guests for a few days. He would only go there to sleep, anyway.

"Ok, ok. No need to explode like that. So, who will be my... roommate?"

In an instant, Lisa had a list in her hand and looked at it until she found the name.

"Let's see... that would be Jamal, who also didn't arrive with a date. I trust the two of you know each other?"

"Jamal? Oh god, no! Why do I have to room with the n... with him? Isn't there any other option?"

Lance couldn't believe it. Jamal, really? Of all the guest, he had to endure Jamal?

"No." Lisa said firmly. "And now, if you excuse me, there are a thousand other places I need to be right now. Have fun and try to get along with your roommate, ok? I'm not gonna make any changes."

With a flip of her hair, she walked away.

Lance was fuming as he fingered the keycard to his room. This had to be a bad joke. Jamal and him... Let's say they never got along really well. And ‘never’ was quite a long time for them, actually. They've known each other since kindergarten and didn't get along very well even then, although they had arguably be friends back then. But ever since, their relationship became worse.

It wasn't Lance's fault, of course. That much was certain, he decided, as he drew the card through the door sensor. Jamal was just so...

The door opened and revealed the object of his disdain.

Black.

There was hardly any way to phrase it differently, Jamal had the unmistakable dark skin color of a dirty ... Black man. Lance didn't consider himself a racist, but the fact was that people who weren't white were less civilized, that was just the way it was.

"Lance."

Jamal's voice was just as dark as his skin as he glared at Lance. Unlike Lance, Jamal most definitely was racist. He was proud of his heritage and thought very lowly of Lance, no doubt because of his skin color. If things were allowed to continue like that, people like Lance would surely become even more oppressed by people like Jamal. He closed the door behind him.

"Yes, that's me. Do you have a problem with that?"

He approached the other man like a predator until he stood right in front of him. They were about the same size, and Lance could see the dark wide nostrils of the other guy flare.

"Yes."

Jamal spat the word.

"I do. What are you doing here, you white piece of trash?"

Lance gritted his teeth.

"What are you doing here, you filthy ni-"

Jamal's fist flew before Lance could finish the word and it was only due to the fact that Lance expected the hit that he could dodge and thus avoid having his teeth bashed in. He answered with a quick kick to the balls, and the two men began their brawl.

The fight was short and intense, but neither of them managed to seriously hurt their opponent. At the end, they sat at different sides of the large double bed, breathing heavily.

"Fuck."

Lance spit out a blood drop. Jamal had a surprisingly hard punch.

"Yeah, that about sums it up."

Jamal was massaging his wrist, and Lance guessed that his jaw would bruise pretty badly. He was more than surprised, however, when Jamal offered him his hand to help him up.

"It's no use, Lance. It looks like we're stuck together for the next few days, and I've got better things to do than beat your racist ass every time I go to my room. Truce?"

Lance considered the proposition for a few moments, before he nodded and grabbed the dark hand.

"Truce. At least as long as we're stuck in this room with each other, you fucking monkey."

A moment of silence followed before Jamal got up and went to the bathroom to take a shower. From inside, he mocked Lance again.

"You know, Lance, you really need to learn how to control your racism. I bet the only reason why you're so angry about me is the fact that I have a big dick."

"Oh, shut the fuck up, asshole."

These were going to be a few long days. The wedding wouldn't be for another two days to give everyone time to enjoy themselves a bit. Originally, Lance had looked forward to this opportunity, but now it seemed like these days were going to be more of an ordeal than anything else.

Of course, there was no way he was going to sleep in the same bed as Jamal, and, luckily, Jamal agreed on that without argument and moved his stuff to the couch. They didn't speak a single word to each other this evening, and Jamal left the hotel room shortly after, allowing Lance some time alone. He was still bruised up and dirty from the short fight and took the opportunity to take a shower himself.

The water was somewhat soothing, and slowly, Lance regained his composure. He certainly wouldn't let someone like him spoil his vacation, and perhaps Jamal was right, and it was a good idea to just ignore each other as much as possible. He could live with that.

When he was sufficiently clean and calm, he left the shower and reached for a fresh towel, only to see a small article of clothing fall from the rack.

With some disgust, Lance noticed what it was: A piece of underwear, a pair of boxer briefs to be exact. It was previously worn, and Lance had no doubts who the owner was. Jamal must have forgotten it when he took a shower earlier.

Lance tried to ignore the unwanted textile as much as he could, but his eyes kept returning to it. Truth be told, it wasn't all that small. In fact, especially the pouch area was rather large, and the fabric looked like it had been stretched somewhat. Without really wanting to, Lance had picked up the piece of underwear and inspected it from all sides now. Frustratingly enough, what Jamal had said earlier appeared to be true. If this piece of underwear was any indicator, then Jamal's dick had to be fairly huge.

That only angered Lance further. Who did Jamal think he was, with his stupid large penis, mocking him? Did Jamal think he could impress him with that?

The piece of clothing had a slightly damp feeling to it. Most probably it was because of the steam from two showers, but was that really all? His body acted on autopilot when he brought the foreign item of clothing closer and sniffed. It was a bit musky, that was for sure, but he wasn't quite sure yet. He buried his nose in the front part of the pouch, right where the dick had been before and took another deep breath.

Oh, there it was. Definitely, Jamal's scent was embedded in the fabric, and the smell was stronger now. Lance felt a rush of shame and anger. Did he really smell the underwear of his black temporary roommate? That was disgusting. He was just about to drop the garment, when he noticed something else. His own -rather small- dick stood proudly at attention.

"What?" Lance said out loud? He was hard because of a man’s underwear? No, not just any man’s. Jamal's, his arch enemies if he had any.

No, this had to stop. With a quick motion, Lance pulled the underwear over his legs and left the bathroom.

Only when he pulled on his pants over the baggy and mostly empty cloth that concealed his erection, he took note of what he had done. Why had he put on the thing?! Well, now it was too much of a hassle to change that, he decided and closed his pants, pressing the damp sweaty fabric against his groin.

Luckily, Jamal didn't come back until late in the night, when Lance was already asleep. He half noticed the other man getting settled on the couch, but he was too tired to care.

When Lance woke up the next morning, he was covered in sweat and his boxers were uncomfortably tight. He groaned as the memories of the day before came back. A quick glance confirmed: Yep, the black man was still there, on the couch, and still asleep, as it seemed.

With a throb, his cock demanded attention under the sheets. It had been quite a while since he had woken up with such a severe case of morning wood, but there was nothing he could do about it now. He wasn't alone, after all. He couldn't resist, however, to reach down under his sheets to readjust himself.

Only when he felt the unfamiliar fabric, again somewhat wet, by his own sweat and precum did he fully remember. Right, for some reason, he had put on Jamal's underwear after the shower. And later, when he went to bed, he hadn't fixed his mistake. There was something else, though.

Lance carefully felt the outline of his cock. This wasn't right. The stolen underwear pouch was filled to the brim with a throbbing organ entirely unfamiliar to him. This wasn't his cock! It was much, much too large!

However, every touch on the large piece of flesh felt good, and he couldn't resist stroking the length stealthily, if only a few times. Why did this feel so good? Lance failed to fully suppress a moan, and saw Jamal stir in his sleep. He really had to stop this. Only perhaps one or more stroke.

Were before, when rubbing one off, he often resorted to only using three fingers to stimulate his length due to his tools size. Now, however, he found that his whole hand was unable to fully close around the shaft, and there was a lot of space for his hand to move up and down, too.

He threw Jamal another glance, but the unwanted roommate still seemed to be asleep. Perhaps he could continue just a bit longer, and perhaps pick up some speed...

This time, too, he failed to muffle his moan completely.

"Ahh, fuck, yes..."

He breathed as he pumped the thick organ faster and faster, using his other hand to caress his balls through the underwear, which felt unusually large as well. Not being able to keep it down any longer, he pumped faster and faster, through Jamal's underwear, until, with a loud groan, he shot a generous load into the fabric.

Lance saw stars for a moment, but the noise had apparently been enough to wake up Jamal, and he turned around on the couch and remarked with a sleepy voice filled with annoyance.

"Dude, what the fuck? Did you just jerk off?"

"Uhh, no. I was... not."

"Yeah, right. And I'm the president. What the fuck, dude? Couldn't you wait until I was gone or something?"

Jamal groaned and got up to go to the bathroom. As he was walking, Lance got a short glimpse at the other man’s groin for the first time. If one thing was for certain, his dick wasn't as large as Lance had suspected. Most of the front of Jamal's boxer briefs was obviously empty.

Jamal spent a surprisingly large amount of time in the bathroom, and when he emerged again, he was - as far as Lance could tell - pale as if he had seen a ghost. He didn't speak a word as he quickly got dressed and basically fled the room, leaving a puzzled Lance behind. What had gotten into that guy again? He shook his head and, finally, removed the sheets and pulled down his borrowed boxer briefs.

And then, he looked at his crotch dumbfounded. He had been right. It wasn't his dick, even though it was flaccid again now, it was much too large. However, that wasn't the biggest problem. Despite being too big, it was decidedly... Black.

And it wasn't just his shaft that was suddenly dark skinned. His balls, too, and the rest of his groin as well. When he turned in front of the mirror, he realized that even his ass-cheeks were a rich dark brown color now, and his pubes dark and wiry.

Lance's head was swimming. What in the world was going on? Was it an infection?

No, even a guy as biased as Lance knew that dark skin was not a disease you got infected with. He simply had no explanation for what he was seeing. Luckily, only his groin was affected. Both his legs and his torso were still as white as they were supposed to be. And his face was fine, too.

Lance shook his head. He'd have to get to the bottom of it, but that had time until later. Today, he wanted to enjoy the beach a bit. However, as he tried to put on his swimming trunks he noticed a problem with his new anatomy. Neither his swimwear nor his pants would fit without being extraordinarily uncomfortable. Not wanting to cut off the circulation to his now much larger tool, he glanced over to Jamal's suitcase. Judging by the pair of boxer briefs, Jamal's stuff should be about the same size, even though Lance didn't really understand why the other man brought clothes this big.

After rummaging through Jamal's belongings for a bit, Lance found what he was looking for. A pair of swimming trunks and a pair of pants that fit comfortably as he put them on without a second thought. He briefly considered fully dressing from the other man’s trunk, but decided against it and took socks, shirt and sunglasses from his own stash.

Finally, fully equipped, he went to the beach.

Given the time of the year, it was rather full, just as he had expected it to be. Nevertheless, he found a spot to lay down a bit and sunbathe, and soon, the warm rays had him relaxed.

For a while, nothing happened. Lance felt at peace, and his thoughts returned to the morning events. He was no stranger to masturbating, but it was the first time that he had felt the urge to do so while in the same room as another guy. Even stranger though, he didn't feel particularly ashamed about it anymore. So, what if Jamal had seen him? He certainly jerked off, too. Put aside all the obvious things that separated them, that was one thing they had in common. They were both men, and men had certain needs. Nothing wrong with indulging in them, right?

In fact, in the morning sun, his thoughts about Jamal were less hostile than usual. It was really hard to be angry all the time when relaxing in the warm seaside sand.

A few hours later, Lance decided to take a swim. However, as he wiggled out of his borrowed pants, he was confronted with yet another surprise.

Apparently, the dark skin had spread. Now, the whole length of his legs was decidedly dark-skinned. Lance shook his head as if he would be able to revert the skin color of his legs like that. But it was no use: The pigment was there to stay. This couldn't possibly be natural, or even healthy! He needed to see a doctor, right now!

Half-panicking, he checked his upper body but was relieved to see that there, his skin was just as milky white as it was supposed to be, as were his feet.

Against all logic, his panic subsided. Sure, he looked ridiculous like that, but it wasn't that bad. In fact, once he managed to look past the weird color of his skin, he found his legs somewhat better looking even, packed with lean muscles. It wasn't bodybuilder level, but a whole new level of power that he never had before.

Originally, he wanted to run, search for a doctor as quickly as he could, but now, he reconsidered. He might as well go through with his plan and swim a bit in the inviting ocean. He could look for a doctor afterwards.

The water was wonderful, and the feeling of his legs powerfully propelling him through the waves was intoxicating. Lance lost track of time, and it was only when his stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten all day that he turned back, all thoughts of a doctor forgotten.

He grabbed his stuff and went back to his hotel room to change, but was surprised to meet Jamal in there, when he unlocked the door.

The other man was sitting on the bed with his pants at his ankles and was furiously beating his meat. When the door opened, he quickly covered his groin with a pillow, but there were two things Lance had noticed: First, Jamal's dick was really small! And, secondly, from the waist down, Jamal's skin was colored a bright tone of pink, a stark contrast to his dark torso. There was an obvious connection waiting to be found, something really profoundly easy, but it escaped Lance persistently.

Instead, for the first time in God knew how long, Lance smiled at Jamal briefly.

"Don't mind me, just carry on. I'll just get changed really quickly."

"O...okay." Jamal replied, obviously confused about more than Lance's statement. Hesitatingly, he removed the pillow and continued his work, his eyes glued at the other man.

Since Jamal was occupying the bed at the moment, and Lance didn't want to disturb him by accessing his own suitcase, without thinking too much about it, he grabbed a new set of clothes from Jamal's: A pair of socks, pants, fresh underwear, a shirt and a baseball cap. He got dressed and nodded at the furiously masturbating Jamal again as he left the room just as Jamal came.

Dinner was somewhat strange for Lance. His upper body, arms and feet felt all strange and tingly, and below the borrowed cap, his hair felt like it was shifting and changing. He was really hungry today and was glad about the all you can eat buffet.

However, the more he ate, the more the strange feeling took hold of his head and face as well, and with it, another urge awakened. Lance's thoughts consistently went back to the picture of Jamal masturbating on their bed. Say what you want, but that white boy really had a cute body. That was something Lance had always liked about Jamal James.

Lance Lamar felt his groin get tight again. It was difficult enough to find underwear for his large black python, but when he got aroused, there was hardly anything able to contain the beast of burden.

Finally, he stood up in all of his black glory and went to the elevator. Time to see if James was still around and was up for a length of his loving boyfriends large dick up his cute tight ass.

He was.

As he left the dining hall, Lisa smiled a thin smile and changed an entry in her list. Two less troublemakers and one more happy couple for the wedding.

What a great couple, in the end! After all, racism never pays.

If you like to read about another great couple, in a magical story, perhaps check out this novel!

#male transformation #muscle transformation #straight to gay #racial transformation

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