#alien drabble

They'd been told humans were easy to deal with, eager almost, so why is their subject so feral?

Two scientists, an unprepared guard, and another random lab tech had been bitten or threatened with one of the movable items in the test area. The human was certainly panicked and hostile despite the medical crew's best efforts. Right this moment, the human in question is standing on the far bench, holding a tool tray and smacking at one of the security officers. The repeated clank of the tray to the helm is almost humorous to some of the other staff, as the moment the officer reaches forward, the hollow clank of the tray sounds out.

Between screams in one of the languages of earth and threats to urinate on the officer, the human has begun to show signs of slow-building exhaustion.

Another loud clank sounds from in the chamber as one of the researchers uses the com system to try to talk the human down again. More screams are heard from within as the human subject seems to almost come back to full feral force, pushing the security officer over and climbing the nearest high cabinet.

Far beyond the lab's bounds, watching through the security cameras is an elated creature, just another alien by this humans' standards, but this particular interstellar resident is beyond excited for their chance to meet you. This particular case of human collection was on their request after all, happily chirping and clicking their mandibles as they watch your next bout of human rage from atop the cabinet you'd climbed, dismissing another ping requesting the right to sedate you, no, they wanted to see you in your most wild state!

They knew they'd picked well; you were such a perfect fit from the lineup they'd been shown. Now it's just a matter of this pesky lab work, and then you'd be able to meet!

Stars, they can't wait, but till then, they simply must see how you attack with that little tray again!

When you saw the calendar event pop up you thought it was a joke, something between the medical staff at the station, clicking the event message you giggle at the event name again.

'Penis Inspection day'

Sighing you scroll down and expect a joke message about the event except it wasn't, scrolling down there is officially assigned roles and tasks for each member of the medical wing, names and times for shift change at the event. Your boss had signed off the event with a brief to download, the document is filled with information about intergalactic sexual infections and the protocol for treatment of said infection, the event being undertaken is only done before or after a mass interspecies deployment.

In a week's time you would be joining your fellow medical officers in inspecting the genitals of the aliens that were returning to the station.

The coworker that you thought made the event as a joke comes over not long after you had read through the brief, smiling as he laughs that it's your first year here and obviously you didn't know about the inspection days. They giggle as you stare at them blankly, asking if they are kidding, slumping against your desk as you lament the awkward situation your about to be in, shooing away your coworker as you do your best to try and recenter yourself before the days end.

To say work was tense for you was an understatement, part of you was dreading the inspection day next week, and a smaller more quiet part was excited. This would be the most contact with aliens you'd have beyond the medical scans they get when coming onto the station for trade, and those barely lasted one or two station day/night cycles, so it's no wonder the day of you wake shakey and tense.

Would you offend one of them? Could you stare too long during the assessments? What happens if one of them gets excited? How much touching is too much? What if one has teeth?!

The panic must be evident as your boss comes by your station, dropping the files of the aliens you would be inspecting off, closing the door behind her as she approaches your desk. Leaning against the corner and running through some of the usual encounters on inspection days, quelling some of the nerves and adding silent fuel to some of your own internal fires, she smiles at you before leaving, even throwing a cheeky wink over her shoulder as she tells you to remember the interesting ones.

After she leaves you take a few minutes before pressing the button for your first inspection, holding the file for the alien as he comes through the door, inside is his translated medical file and a set of photos of what his species genitals should look like if not carrying or afflicted with anything, instructions clear that if it deviated in any way they are sent for indepth tests and inspection.

You smile awkwardly at the alien in question, pulling on your first set of gloves as you ask them to open their uniform to allow for inspection, trying your best to be professional as you greeted with a long barely their slit that ran from the mid point of its chest down between its legs, the alien looks eagerly at you as the translator around its neck interpreted his words, almost cooing at you about having to coax it out first.

The wink and smile from your boss makes sense now, internally you wonder how many of these aliens you will have to coax into being able to be inspected, and how many will actually need further assistance...

Chilling in the break room of whatever station, shuttle, ship, or colony you both work on, messing around on your comms unit and telling them you would marry their kid to have them as family. Only for them to pull out their other comm unit and look at something, before responding to you with info about their child that would be the equivalent age to you in their years now.

You laugh as they ask if you could be into women, namely alien women, telling them you could be as they show you a picture of their daughter.

Older alien bestie that tells you they will find out if their child likes humans, and put in a good word for you, only to look at you curiously when you remember they told you a year ago that they had a male child. The alien you work with delivering a deadpan response of and now I have a daughter, I will find out if she likes humans, almost squinting as they try to see if you'll say anything about this change in narrative from the past.

You're not quite sure why you didn't scream when you first saw them, or why snatching up a pillow and brandishing it became your next move, but here you are. Standing in your living room, a pillow held above your head ready to be thrown, and across from you is a creature, you want to say alien, but this situation seems already too far-fetched.

Finding your voice, you yell at them to get the fuck out of your home, face scrunched up in confused anger, hoping the panic running through you will be enough should you need to get out of this situation quickly.

The strange creature across from you smiles, or attempts to, lipless mouth slanting up and opening just enough to show some teeth and whatever this thing had for a tongue, more garbled words pour forth before it settles on the language you speak, "No, no, I safe! Cupid!"

In its hand is what looks like a very complex syringe, but hearing the word cupid, you cringe, snapping back at the creature, "No, cupids are little fat baby things with wings, and you're... You're not that! So leave!" A pillow is still being brandished like it will save your life.

The creature repeats the word cupid, pointing to itself with its free hand, stepping closer and stopping as you pull the arm with the pillow back more, tapping its chest area and repeating the word cupid again, "Cupid, cupid, I cupid, you have love soon!" This thing walks on the balls of its feet, appearing taller and taller as it moves towards you. The two of you circle each other, walking around your couch like something from a movie, stepping backwards as it taps its chest again, speaking up, "Cupid! Me, cupid, come love soon!"

The short space between yourself and the door disappears quickly as you bolt, rushing out of your living room and away from the strange alien creature, scrambling into your backyard and startling when you see the creature is outside now. In the daylight, you can make out more details on this creature. Its head has a mess of strange, thick grey tendrils that seem to mimic hair, and its body is a deep blue-black merging of endoskeleton plates and soft pink blue flesh.

The alien chirps the word cupid at you again, pointing at your leg and smiling at you, looking down at the strange syringe-like item from earlier now sticking out of your thigh, "oh come on.." your voice slurs for a second before the alien pads closer, catching you as the rush of panic fades and whatever was just pumped into you hits.

Looking up at the face of the alien, you mutter a few select words before slumping into its hold.

(Im totally imagining mass effect turians for this lol)

For you cryptid... I do this for you.

(also while Garrus isn't my type, pre reaper Saren could get it)

-

You just couldn't help it, the way the plating of his face moved, the click and chitter of the mandibles, how the structure of his face moved as the translator in your ear relayed his words. It is beyond captivating, sure you have worked with others of his particular kind but there is something about him, about how his face plates and mandibles moved that just drew your eyes, watching him over the scrolling text on your data slate.

You'd thought yourself sly as you watched him, but every time you've stared at him, he had been staring right back.

The blessings of facial plates like his kinds is that other species don't know about the almost translucent parts of their plating, sections made for peripheral vision while not having their eyes fully exposed, these sections made it easy to watch as you stared at him.

He'd caught you since the first time you looked at him, how your eyes followed the twitch and shift of his plates, it was endearing at first, but now it's something else entirely. The way you trace the lines and curves of his mouth, his plates, the chitter of teeth on his exoskeleton when he speaks, it builds a warmth in him. It feels like the anticipation of mating, of having done all the work and playing of courtship that leads to bedding but all he's done is let you watch him.

There is a small, growing part of him that wonders if he asked you to join him for a small work issue if you'd watch him more, something that requires him to strip his deck uniform off and expose more plating, more parts for you to look at. The idea makes him click, the mandibles on his face shifting to chitter drawing the attention of one of his kind that also works on this deck, he knows they can tell he's feeling some kind of way from the noise he let out but as quickly as the moment came, it went.

Records on you tell that there is a decent gap in ages, sure terra had a different calendar to his home planet but even by the galactic standard count there is at least seventeen years between the two of you.

Pulling himself back together as he waltzes over to your station, leaning against the side of your screen, looking down at you and asking if you were free to help him with a task. Doing his best to mimic a smile at you as he pretends not to watch your eyes trace the flicker of his mandibles, leading you away from the others as he knows he can feel other plates shift and move under his deck uniform, sharp talons click along the grating of the deck below your workspace.

Working on a station like this means that the crews rotate on and off, alternation keeps everyone sane enough to push onwards through the endless slog of work.

It's your on season, meaning you're sitting in your cubical doing all the menial tasks that the station administration needs to do to keep the rights to orbit the planet it's anchored too. The chairs they give you aren't exactly comfortable for several hours of sitting and doing paperwork, yet even bringing your own pillows doesn't take the sting off of your ass at the end of the day.

Grumbling to yourself as you head for the common area of your hab block you find yourself pleasantly surprised, one of your alien coworkers has sat himself cross legged on the floor simply far too big to use one of the lounges provided, the gelatinous nature of his body looking increasingly inviting. Discomfort is a hell of a motivator, as you quickly make your way over to him, grabbing his attention and asking as sweetly as possible if you could sit in his lap, mentioning how incredibly comfortable he looks right now, eagerly clambering into his lap the moment you get a singular nod from him.

The moment you're sat relief floods through you, the slight chill of his body makes the squish all that more enjoyable. Leaning back fully you look up at his head, taking in the almost sea slug like shape of him, the wiggling little nobs and swaying strands like antenna that take in the sounds of the world around him, he's actually quite cute now that you actually look at him closer.

You're thanking him as you relax more, feeling the ache in your legs, hips and lower back slowly, eases, starting up a small conversation with him as you sit in his lap. He's off schedule right now and has simply taken to sitting in different parts of the station to take up time, one of his arms lifts and you can look through the light blue of him, something comes to mind as you poke a finger into his arm laughing slightly, perking up immediately as you spin around as much as you can, hand sinking into his chest just a little as you ask him if he would consider being your desk chair instead.

Only realising what you had asked after the words left you, trying to back track for a moment before he shrugs and agrees, calling it better than sitting in hallways all day doing nothing.

The uniform required for you and your coworkers, both alien and human, are very full coverage.

For the protection of your skin and health is the reason you're given, but you'd not really cared much since you got the first three sets given to you months ago. Some of your coworkers had much louder, and more disgruntled opinions about the uniforms, opting to change certain parts out despite the looming fine and reprimanded for doing as such. The higher ups didn't care much most days, but there is an inspection coming up soon so that lax attitude is likely to change quickly as the day grows closer.

The full coverage of your uniforms means however that certain differences between humans and aliens aren't seen, or at least not outside of diagrams.

One such difference is stretch marks, you have them and have grown used to the sight of them across your body. However the new alien you work with has apparently never seen this particular occurrence on a human before, so the first night you were sharing a habitation unit and changed out of your uniform they let out a strange trilling sound before scrambling over to you.

The trilling sound continues as they snatch up one of your arms and stare at you with wide grey eyes, the translation unit on them kicking in quickly as they pepper you with questions about your 'stripes' and whether all humans have them, the collection of tentacles that act as their hands poke and drag along the pinkish line of one of your slightly faded stretch marks. Clearing your throat you gently ask to be let go of, explaining as gently as you can that this is normal for humans and happens when their body's skin stretches or shrinks too fast, watching as the alien you're now working with bobs its entire upper body.

You're honestly not surprised that they don't know what stretch marks are, considering their race closely resembles earth's jellyfish in the way that they are made up of layers of water, something almost like mesoglea, and their own planet's natural protein cells.

The translator takes a hushed tone, mimicking whispers as the squishy alien asks if they can touch them or if that would be too personal. Apparently the idea of alternative texture on your skin has enraptured them, so you sigh and nod your head telling them they can touch but only so long as you get to explore your own curiosity about the texture of their own outer layers.

So, here you are, laying on the standard issue habitation unit carpet letting your alien coworker trail their receptor tendrils across the stretch marks along your stomach and hips, as you in turn play with the long flat tentacle like extensions from their head. Despite what you had expected they were soft, like peach fuzz, the texture not at all what you expect from such a jelly like alien, but even as your own curiosity is being satisfied, the touch of the alien grows bolder.

Apparently just touching wasn't enough now, and the tentacles touching your hips prod at the edge of your pants, almost demanding as they snap the band slightly. The lines of your stretch marks run down past your waist, and now your alien cohabitant wants to follow the full length and line of this new found human feature.

Looking up at their large grey eyes you give it a single moment of thought before sighing, and unclipping the buttons of your uniform pants.

May as well see how far the curiosity goes, now that you're this deep in it anyway...

A lord ravager, a harbinger of verocity, a minor alien lord that is well known for its over-consumptive habits.

And, to you, it is a newly found lover that comes with a month of bedridden recovery.

The first time you met it was pure coincidence: the back alley bar on a trade station just outside of the Sol System. You'd been off work for the cycle and enjoying one of the few human-safe synth drinks most bars offer when it walked in, half the bar left and the others scattered to the edges away from this large creature that came strolling through the main doors. Never before have you seen whatever kind of alien it was, six thick tentacles hang from its back, each ending in small snapping mouths that drift around behind it like they have minds of their own, a collection of tubes make up a facsimile of hair that hangs loose from its head, and its mouth opens with a split like seam revealing more teeth and a thick almost neon blue tongue.

From your seat at the bar, you watch it stride through the now empty bar space, three-fingered hands splay on the bar top as it orders its drinks. As the bartender starts mixing, it looks towards you, head tilted as it takes in the single patron that didn't move, that likely didn't know who or what it is.

That single decision to not scatter was what sealed the deal for you, and from your perch at the bar, you ended up chatting with it, curious and unafraid of whatever sat across from you on a complete whim. After a long day at work, you really didn't have the energy to be afraid of an alien in some shitty station dive bar.

And here you are, legs splayed on your bed with one of its tentacle mouths latched onto your chest as the others work to leave hickies across your neck and hips, the sheets under you are a mess of lube and sweat, the fabric clinging to your skin as the alien looming over you hooks his hands under your knees and pushes your legs open further to settle more comfortably between them.

The neon tongue you had seen earlier at the bar was well at home now inside you, working to prep you and feed the seemingly endless need for more this alien had. The thickness and depth it can reach mimics that of most human lovers you've had, but somehow, the moment you utter a plea for more, the alien between your legs seems to purr.

As if the idea that you want more, that you could be greedy for it, makes it eager.

Through blurry eyes, you watch as it pulls back, shifting the position it has your legs in as it pulls its tentacles away from their eager positions on your skin. From an unseen slit along the length of its crotch, not one but two long, thick lengths slip free; the tips are thin, but the length of its twin shafts thicken in a way that makes your thighs shake. The unique ridges seem to swell as it closes in on you.

Through a haze of newly forming pleasure, you half think that you will need to call out for work the moment you physically can...