Title: Cheeseballs and Tentacle Rape
Author: Gyaku no Sekai
Rating: M
Warnings: het, Flood!tentacles, "foolin' around"
Summary: A plan to escape eating their weight in cheeseballs goes further than intended. MCxC, Parallel-'verse.
Gyaku's A/N: For Kire-teme's b-day; you owe me MOP pr0n for my birthday.
Kire's A/N: Posted here because my "sistah from anuddah muddah," Gyaku no Sekai, forgot to post it on her own account, and now I beat her to it, ha! Yay for her! And no, there is not actually tentacle rape in the story; it's an inside joke between the two of us. Happy birthday to me, and Happy National Cheeseball Day!
She stirred automatically when she felt a hand on her shoulder – his hand; there were some people in the fleet who were both large and strong, but not even the Weapons Chief Gramlek had near as many calluses – or scars – as her Spartan. She stretched to loosen the artificial hydraulic muscles all over her synthetic body, unlocking the joints at the same time, and roled over to smile up at the Origin Spartan leaning over her.
"Morning," he said softly, brushing a few strands of hair out of her face and earning a wider smile from the AI, "You might want to get up; Venera, Kenera, and the Prank Squad are roping everyone they can into participating in National Cheeseball Day."
Cortana frowned in confusion. "…What? 'National Cheeseball Day?' I wasn't aware we had a holiday centering around cheeseballs."
"We don't. The United States used to have a –" He paused, searching for the right word. "- theme, I guess? – for every day of the year, and that's today's theme."
"You don't sound enthused," she commented as she sat up, running and auto-diagnostic on her body to make sure nothing had been damaged during the night.
"Considering the fact that they're convincing everyone to eat their weight in cheeseballs? No, I'm not." John cocked an eyebrow down at her. "I have yet to figure out where they're going to get so much cheese, and I was hoping you had an idea to get us out of being constipated for the next year."
She snorted in amusement as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "Can Flood even get constipated?"
"I'd rather not find out, for obvious reasons."
"Agreed. Well, thanks to the Flood-bastardized Vulcan mind meld thing that we did while I was destabilizing-"
"Still haven't forgiven you for not telling me how bad you were."
"-whatever – I know the Twins about as well as you do. The only way we'll be able to dissuade them is if we issue a challenge or find something else to do far away."
"Or both." The Spartan blinked, then narrowed his eyes speculatively. "How close is the Origin simulation to being done?"
Like the smart AI that she was, Cortana caught on quickly. "Twenty minutes if I upload myself into the system. Provided, of course, that you will be busy getting us a transport to the Atlantis colony."
"Absolutely." John was already up and moving, hailing the submarine colony through the invisible Forerunner COMs network that wrapped the green and blue orb below, the Fleet of Shadows in a high-altitude orbit between the orbital defense grid and the moon. He received a response almost immediately; the colony hidden just below the seafloor at the edge of the Marianas Trench was the most "exposed" of the facilities the world over and also the most easily accessible of all. Just as he finished making the arrangements, he sensed a surge of competitiveness through the link that tied him to his Infected (he made a mental note to reopen the study that had been trying to figure out ho the Flood communicated on a telepathic level; it had been interrupted by the Forerunner-Flood War, and then they were too busy protecting and observing both humanity and the Milky Way at large to resume). No doubt Cortana had issued her time challenge to the Twins or conned them into versing one another – and it was working out pretty well; they didn't even notice his ripple of amusement as he listened in on them duking out who would go first.
Mere moments later, Cortana was streaming back into her synthetic body in a flurry of coding, and the intra-system teleportation network spirited them away to the submarine colony (which he still hadn't told the UNSC about; he resovled to let them know when his most dangerous lieutenants were not trying to force cheese down the throats of everyone in sight).
"Ah!" Cortana sighed as she flopped back onto the Western-style bed in the room that had been given to them, "I had no idea the Forerunners had resorts, much less ones as nice as this!" When she heard John mutter something about a "waste of resources," she finally managed to get the drop on him, snapping out a leg and hooking it around the Spartan's waist, dragging him back onto the bed with her and laughing at the stunned expression on his face. "You're not the only stealthy one around, John; I've got my own ninja moves," she chuckled when he tilted his head to look up at her.
"Oh?" A vague blur of motion out of the corner of her eye was the only warning she go, but even then, her physical body was not fast enough to evade the twin tentacles that unfurled from the Spartan's side, pinning her wrists to the mattress, armor morphing with the changes of his body. "Ninja moves, huh?" he said slowly, contemplating, and a faint smirk graced his lips as the pigment drained from his irises, leaving them the red of his blood; Cortana briefly wondered why it was not Flood green but was quickly distracted by the powerful nonhuman shifting overtop of her, strong hands replacing the tentacles at her wrists with an unbreakable grip. The muscle-groups-turned-limbs didn't retract back into his body as he was ordinarily wont to do (for all of the power and resources it gave him, he still viewed his transformation as more of a curse than a blessing); instead, they brushed down the insides of her arms, (and damn, it was strange being able to feel the sensations through the armor she wore) making her shiver and begin to breathe faster.
She'd be damned if she turned down the opportunity to "play."
The tentacles shifted position on his body, and with a soft, sliding, almost liquid noise, a few more unfurled from his back, snaking over his shoulders and under his arms to ease open the catches and seals holding the separate plating to the undersuit. One of them brushed her hair out of her eyes; she nipped teasingly at it before it dipped below the neckline of the rubbery nanotube undersuit, tracing the bundle of neural lines that mimicked the appearance of the carotid artery in humans. Cortana shivered reflexively as the sensation traveled straight to her neural processors, back arching up into the touch of the other tentacles.
The Spartan above her let out a subsensory hum, the AI's systems unconsciously synchronizing with the sound, making it that much easier for him to broadcast false sensory information to the micro-sensors and –receivers coating her body like fine particles of dust. In addition, he just barely brushed the extra limbs over her skin; her processors did not know whether to translate the sensations as pain or pleasure and so flickered between both, making her chew her bottom lip. "Ninja skills, huh?" he repeated, slipping the undersuit off her bit by bit with his extra appendages, for once glad that he was able to mutate his body in such a manner; it made it that much easier to deal with her reactions – like when she tried to wrap her legs around his waist to tug him down against her and grind their hips together. "Patience, anata," he murmured, stroking one side of her face with a tentacle, "It's a virtue."
"Fuck virtues!" she snarled, eyes flashing as some of his leg muscles mutated and wrapped around her ankles, holding her legs still; now she knew why he'd intentionally put on a good half a foot in height and seventy pounds of pure muscle during the hundred thousand [Wandering Years]. He changed position, shifting her so that she was straddling his thighs facing him, now with both hands pulled back behind her. It left him free to run his still-armored hands up her flanks; they fluttered under his touch, and she leaned into him, eyes slipping to half-mast as she panted. He leaned in and kissed her briefly before moving to nip and lick and suck at her throat, the construct tilting her head back to give him access to more skin; the friction of the rubbery undersuit felt strange but pleasurable against her nipples when he slid his hands up to cup her breasts.
Cortana whimpered, tugging at her organic restraints; she wanted to touch him, strip his muscled body of the armor he hid it behind and taste all of the scars he had acquired in their time apart, but the tentacles' grip was more than even she could break. He smirked against her throat. "Patience…" The Spartan turned her around, her back to his front, and once again replaced the tentacles with his own natural iron grip, holding her hands up at shoulder level; she was going to ask why, but the breath caught in her throat.
A few tentacles stroked her inner thighs, perilously close to where she wanted them to be, while two more held her legs open, preventing her from squeezing them shut and potentially hurting the Spartan on accident. The construct bit her lip, unable to tear her gaze away; she had thought that she was the kinkier of the two of them, but it seemed that the Flood infection had changed more than just John's physiology.
She gasped sharply, trying to buck into the touch when one brushed her core; several tentacles unfurled from his obliques to wrap around her waist to stop the action, pulling her tight against his chest as a few others pulled back into his body to keep his mass relatively constant. She wasn't sure how long he toyed with her, just that it felt like forever before he released one of her hands (which immediately looped around his neck) to reach down and slide two fingers into her – and she was so wound up that was all it took. When she came back down from her high, he'd changed their position again; he was overtop of her, now completely naked (that made her wonder exactly how long her synthetic body's "orgasms" were programmed to last), and his brilliant crimson eyes made it clear just how close he was to losing control. "You're beautiful," he whispered before leaning down to kiss her, and Cortana returned the kiss eagerly, wrapping her arms and legs around him to help ease him into her.
He broke the kiss to pant heavily, and her sensitive ears picked up the sounds of his fists clenching in the fabric below them; from where her head was resting in the crook of his neck, she saw his nerves beginning to bulge and darken as the Flood DNA reacted to the flurry of electrical signals racing through his nervous system, the trigger for the transformation, involuntary though it was. She grinned, not that he could see her; "Move, John," she breathed into his ear, "Move."
With a muffled groan, he did; the first thrust made her back arch and toes curl, eyes rolling back into her head. Her sensors were still on maximum gain from the previous orgasm, and it made her incoherent to just about everything save for the friction of the Flood!Spartan within her, his sharp breaths rushing past her ear, and his hands uncurling from the bedding to grip her hips; if she were a human female, their coupling would have brought about a lot more than just damaged sensors and residual pain from said sensors – which she was told was the thing humans referred to as "soreness."
Her walls clenched around him; he snarled suddenly, and the grip on her hips tightened as he picked up the pace. One final tentacle emerged like a tail from his spine and curled between them to stimulate her clitoris until she flew to pieces beneath him, dragging him over the edge with her.
When her systems finally rebooted from that last mind-blowing orgasm, John was still mostly out of it, but he'd had the presence of mind to flop down next to her rather than right on top of her, and his appearance was completely human once more.
Mind over matter, she assumed.
A diagnostic revealed that he'd actually managed to dent both of her (mostly) solid diamond-hard titanium alloy hipbones, but then again, everyone knew that Flood were freakishly strong, the Infected even more so (and some of them were just freakish, too). Her attention was called back to the outside world when her optical sensors registered movement; John was sitting up, blinking a little blearily as he tried to get his mental functions back up to par, and Cortana was unable to stop herself from giggling at the slight "deer in the headlights" look he had on his face. When he turned his confused gaze on her, she pecked the tip of his nose; "You just had a silly expression on your face, John; it wasn't something I expected to see from you." She snuggled up against his side, and he looped an arm around her shoulders, settling back onto the sheets after grabbing his cloak to yank overtop of them as a makeshift blanket; neither of them felt much like moving, which meant that getting under the covers was out.
"You know, I just realized that we spent the whole day in Atlantis and didn't once go to the beach-thing they have ringing the inside edge. How disappointing is that!"
"There'll be other opportunities," John said to the AI leaning up against his shoulder as he reflexively cleaned his MJOLNIR armor – the real set, the one from the Origin that had come over with him – and watched as the Twins completely forgot about National Cheeseball Day in favor of trying to slaughter everyone who challenged them in the multiplayer server his beloved construct had set up. "After all, even if we don't have eternity, we've still got a relatively long time to spend together."
"Don't say that; it's just asking for trouble."
"And if I say we only have a few more seconds to live, someone somewhere will undoubtedly bitch that that statement will come true rather than the reverse."
"… Shut up."
Gyaku's A/N: … should this be on AFF rather than here?