More Fear!smut.
This is a quick drabble/ficlet thing I wrote in 5-10 minutes for my best friend Taylor, who turned 16 today. She shares my fascination with The Fear.
Enjoy.
Series: MGS3: Snake Eater
Pairing: The Fear, solo
Warnings: Masturbation, general repulsiveness. Squick. The Fear. >>;;; Unedited/unbeta'd, by the way.
So it begins.
It was so dark, so blindingly slightless, and he could feel that familiar, warm emotion surge through him, flipping his stomach and twisting it into knots.
He breathed heavily, embracing it, pushing himself up against the cold, wet stone of the cell. His head leaned against the wall and he smiled through his breath, visible in the below-twenty atmosphere.
It wasn't time yet. He still had a few minutes, he thought as he slid his cold fingers, slickened with sweat and mud down his pants.
She had put him in there as a daily ritual. Every day, for five minutes, they could go into their cell, supposedly unsurveillanced and do whatever they please. It took awhile for him to get used to. He hated cramped space. He always had to be out and about, eating, fucking, killing. Consuming whatever he and his sweet little emotion could get their grimy, twisted, double-jointed fingers on.
He hadn't noticed how fast he was stroking himself, back arched, head leaning back against the wall. He glared out at the waning moon longingly. He wanted to be out there again, naked, arching against the raw, nude, clean coarseness of the wilderness and the fresh crackle of the leaves and twigs instead of the filthy, manufactured barriers of the base. He moaned for the scent of the dirt, animals and trees, hand gliding over himself with varying paces.
It was so good. He loved the dark, because that was when he was the most susceptible to anything happening to him. He was so afraid. It was so good.
Time was about up. He willed himself to come quickly, licking his fingers clean--dirt and all--and fastening the camouflage to his pants just before the cell door opened.
"The Fear. Are you decent?" The Boss's shadow was definate, her breasts standing out in her silhouette, automatically identifying her. He always wondered why she asked that after she opened the door--it defeated the whole purpose. But he didn't argue. It didn't matter. Nobody had anything to hide. They were brothers. And she was the Mother.
"....Yes," he said with a slight, weak hiss, trying hard not to breathe heavy. As much as he loved her, he didn't want her to know what he did in his own little five minutes.
"Let's be going then." She did an about face and marched down the hallway, badly skewed from The Fear's point of view.
My son... I never knew.
She smiled quietly to herself.
Feedback! :D
Enjoy.
Series: MGS3: Snake Eater
Pairing: The Fear, solo
Warnings: Masturbation, general repulsiveness. Squick. The Fear. >>;;; Unedited/unbeta'd, by the way.
So it begins.
It was so dark, so blindingly slightless, and he could feel that familiar, warm emotion surge through him, flipping his stomach and twisting it into knots.
He breathed heavily, embracing it, pushing himself up against the cold, wet stone of the cell. His head leaned against the wall and he smiled through his breath, visible in the below-twenty atmosphere.
It wasn't time yet. He still had a few minutes, he thought as he slid his cold fingers, slickened with sweat and mud down his pants.
She had put him in there as a daily ritual. Every day, for five minutes, they could go into their cell, supposedly unsurveillanced and do whatever they please. It took awhile for him to get used to. He hated cramped space. He always had to be out and about, eating, fucking, killing. Consuming whatever he and his sweet little emotion could get their grimy, twisted, double-jointed fingers on.
He hadn't noticed how fast he was stroking himself, back arched, head leaning back against the wall. He glared out at the waning moon longingly. He wanted to be out there again, naked, arching against the raw, nude, clean coarseness of the wilderness and the fresh crackle of the leaves and twigs instead of the filthy, manufactured barriers of the base. He moaned for the scent of the dirt, animals and trees, hand gliding over himself with varying paces.
It was so good. He loved the dark, because that was when he was the most susceptible to anything happening to him. He was so afraid. It was so good.
Time was about up. He willed himself to come quickly, licking his fingers clean--dirt and all--and fastening the camouflage to his pants just before the cell door opened.
"The Fear. Are you decent?" The Boss's shadow was definate, her breasts standing out in her silhouette, automatically identifying her. He always wondered why she asked that after she opened the door--it defeated the whole purpose. But he didn't argue. It didn't matter. Nobody had anything to hide. They were brothers. And she was the Mother.
"....Yes," he said with a slight, weak hiss, trying hard not to breathe heavy. As much as he loved her, he didn't want her to know what he did in his own little five minutes.
"Let's be going then." She did an about face and marched down the hallway, badly skewed from The Fear's point of view.
My son... I never knew.
She smiled quietly to herself.
Feedback! :D