Man Of Steel Fanfiction Novels & Stories

‘I told you, this man already pulverized those precious things’ she looks at Sherry’s nails when she speaks out the word ‘precious’ “NO… no, no, no! their cores are indestructible! They are much stronger than tungsten, steel, or any metal that you’ll ever discover in this world! And you just –” lifting his hand, he motioned the sleeping man before continuing “let him PULVERIZED it?! Are you out of your mind?! Yes, you are! Considering you! Raiding and attacking this man! Alone! And…” She didn’t care more about what he is spouting and moved directly to Nathan ‘do you have a way to kill him?’

I managed to ask, my voice weak and barely audible. His gaze dropped to the shackles around my wrists and his jaw clenched. His ocean blue eyes blazed as if the sight of my situation made him so mad. The danger lurking beneath the depths of his orbs made me know he was beyond livid. With two long strides, he managed to close the gap between us. He got down in front of me and held the shackles on my wrists. The initial sting of pain as the shackles pressed against my skin made me wince, but the pain soon vanished when the shackles broke into pieces under the brutal grip of the man. For him to crush wraith steel just like that proved how strong he was, and I was starting to wonder if he was ju

Since it was quite unexpected, I stumbled on my steps in utter disbelief. 'Did this woman just hit me?' That surely was another first. 'But why the hell did she just punch me? What did I do?' "Ah," she cried holding her fist bringing me back from her daze. I smirked. "Now you know what this Man of Steel is actually in real! And by the way, Man of Steel is too cliché phrase, why don't you try Metallic Man? Will help me boost my ego a little more than usual!" I sounded sarcastic to myself.

Within it, a vision swirled into clarity. There was a prison. Black stone walls, cracked and ancient. Chains laced with obsidian spikes hung from the ceiling. Silver lined the floor like veins of poison. And in the center of it all, a man knelt—barely more than bone, but with eyes that burned with familiar defiance. “Stefan.” Steve took a step forward, instinct screaming at him to shatter the illusion and leap into that realm—but it vanished as quickly as it came. “He’s alive,” Steve whispered.

He turned around to face them again to say something. "To inform you guys, me and this man beside me are living under the same roof, and I can attest to how good and resembling his body is to a Greek-god's." Then he gave them a timid smirk before finally leaving the department. I was left awestruck because of what this metal man did. When I was brought back to reality, I didn't waste any more time looking back at my coworkers because I already knew that they would just make fun of me. Again.

"Well, I have informed my beta. They will track her down—" The sound of heavy footsteps approached us, drawing my attention to the doorway. There stood a man, six-foot-two, dressed in a black shirt and beige slacks. His muscles looked like they were sculpted from steel, and the rolled-up sleeves revealed glimpses of intricate tattoos inked on his arms. His hair was neatly styled back, and every step he took exuded the commanding presence of an Alpha.

My face was pale, my green eyes wide with a mixture of terror and a strange, flickering adrenaline I didn't want to acknowledge. I stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the grime of the shift and the metallic tang of the alleyway. I stayed there until the steam filled the room, trying to wrap my mind around the fact that my life as I knew it was over. I was a prisoner of the Steel Phantoms. I was the "property" of Ruan Montague.

At the center stood a reinforced console, its screens flashing with lines of code. “Looks like we found Elena’s contingency plan,” Drake said, his eyes scanning the room. Suddenly, the sound of clapping filled the air. A man stepped out from the shadows, flanked by a group of armed guards. “Well, well,” the man said, his voice smooth and mocking. “You’ve made it to the heart of the beast. Congratulations.” “Who are you?” Damian demanded, his gun trained on the newcomer. “Just someone who believes in Elena’s vision,” the man replied. “And someone who’s not going to let you undo her work.”

Lucy The rag was still in my hand, but my fingers had gone numb. My whole body felt like it had gone cold when Riker said those words. Pet. I’d heard worse, yes. But the way the men in the lot laughed—or pretended not to—burned hotter than fists ever had. Fists left bruises that faded. Words stuck, carved into the softest places of you. I kept polishing the chrome because I didn’t know what else to do. The metal shone under my hand, but the shine didn’t matter. I didn’t matter. That’s what Riker had meant. I was just something Blake had picked up on the side of the road. Disposable.

Emma just stared at it. In the ring, a man with long hair swung his fists fiercely and punched his opponent’s face to the point that his opponent’s face was distorted. Following that, the man with long hair lifted his opponent before he threw him out of the ring. It was extremely ruthless. Emma became more afraid. She sought shelter behind Thomas and shuddered in fear. Was this really a steel manufacturing factory?