Alma Wade was... many things. Vengeful spirit and tortured soul, young girl and adult woman, powerful psychic and a frightened child, unloved daughter and lone mother, cruel monster and broken mind... To Michael Becket she was also a living nightmare he was forced to endure. From his first hallucination of her he slowly learned to fear her and the powers she held at her disposal. From the moment he started to piece together the scattered bits of her life's story he pitied her. And after she raped him inside of the amplifier... he hated her. The moment he broke off from the whatever illusion she placed him into, he despised the very ground she stood on and the venom filled glare he shot her after the realization of everything that has happened came to him felt like it could put the fear of death in a god...
And to his unending surprise, it seemed like that's exactly what happened. He got to watch the content and almost happy expression on her face slowly melt into one of fear and panic. At the time he didn't really think about it though. He could barely see past the hate and anger that finally boiled over his usual calmness and silent stoicism. With an enraged outburst he screamed at her, voicing every bit of raw hate he could muster, spitting every curse he could muster like streams of pure venom. He blamed her for everything, from what she did to his mind and body to the death of his teammates and countless others. With time he outright started inviting her to kill him as well, taunting her to finish what she started.
She listened to it all, seemingly only growing more and more fearful with each word he screamed until in the end of it all she cried out, grabbing her head as she fell to the ground. For a second he could almost swear he saw her tearing up, but before he got to take a look she disappeared into a cloud of ashes. He found the restrains that held him tied to the amplifier gone and the sphere that trapped him alone with her opening again.
His whole body was aching all over after everything she did. Blood dripped from the deep scratches that covered his bruised face but he slowly started to get up back on his feet, still seething with rage unlike anything that he felt before. When he crawled his way back out of the facility his anger only grew as he saw Morales' dead body, brutalized by the ATC's mercs. He killed them all, throwing down the bodies onto the little patch of land where Alma's old swing still remained. He made sure to paint the very ground with blood and guts of every single Armacham grunt he got his hands on.
From then on the situation only grew worse for him. The ATC got the whole city into a lockdown with him in the epicenter of their focus. He had to run and hide like an animal, crawling into every dark hole they overlooked. He watched them execute the survivors of the whole ordeal, tearing the city down building by building.
And through all of this, he's been seeing her. Over and over again, he would find her closer then he would have liked. Hiding in shadows, in reflections, just outside his view... He could feel her presence at all times, much more clearly then he ever did before. At first, he was more then willing to unload an entire clip of bullets into her whenever she came into view, or even rush at her with a knife. He didn't care if she decided to kill him. He had no family to go back to and no way to leave Fairport to begin with. The only people he had any connection to were dead, mostly at her hand, so at the end of the day, what did it matter to him. It was only a matter of time before ATC captures or kills him anyways.
That anger however couldn't last forever. For days he continued to lash out at her and anyone who dared to raise a weapon against him but eventually, the fuel for his raging hate started to run out. Whereas before he would actively seek out opportunities to put a dent in Armacham's forces, after a week of near constant slaughter, he instead opted to avoid attention as much as he could. And as for Alma... Once he started to calm down and snap out of his rage, he started to realize that she wasn't just idly following him around for whatever reason. He started to notice enemy's flanking attempts fail at most convenient of times. He would see reinforcements cut off by crumbling buildings, mechs suddenly malfunctioning, ambushes turned into piles of bloody skeletons. Eventually, he started to became aware that on the rare times when he allowed himself to sleep he would occasionally find himself waking up in a completely different place, with his previous location overrun by the ATC or his supply of food and ammunition restored without his involvement.
She was helping him... For what reason, he didn't know and quite frankly found it hard to care. Even after a month of this, long after he stopped getting violent at a mere sight of her shadow, he would still feel an occasional urge to cut her stomach open and rip out whatever maggot was crawling inside of her. He couldn't see any signs of pregnancy like when he first managed to free himself from the mental prison she placed him in, but he knew that she was. Somehow, he could feel that just as well as he felt her very presence.
Eventually, even those urges stopped as he further calmed down, simply growing... indifferent to her presence. She was there whether he liked it or not and there was nothing he could do about that so why waste energy on getting mad over it? After a while he completely stopped reacting to her presence, regardless of how close she got and the longer he ignored her, the closer she got. withing just a few days, she wasn't even trying to hide herself from him, openly standing still in the middle of streets he pushed through and buildings he occupied.
Sometimes, she would walk just next to him or sit beside him whenever he sat down anywhere. One time, when he managed to find a usable bed to use in an abandoned building he even found her lying behind him and playing with his hair. She still got no reaction from him though. He wouldn't even allow his eyes to focus on her for more then a fraction of a second... However, after over two weeks of this, focused solely on surviving, spent without uttering a word, with the only human contact being an army of mercs trying to kill him... it became apparent to him that completely ignoring her simply felt... lonely...
Slowly, he pushed the doorknob down, crouching by the door with a rifle held at ready. He carefully stepped inside, immediately scanning every corner of the house he just entered. There was no one there, no ATC and no civilians. The latter was no surprise to him as judging from the pile of bodies he saw outside, an ATC death squad had the whole street rounded up and executed not that long ago. They seemed to have moved out to other parts of the city to continue the carnage though, so that was good news for him. It's been a few days since he last slept.
First, he needed to make sure the area is safe though. He started to sweep through every room of the house in search of any signs of hostiles. The ground floor was clear and as he looked through the windows, he saw no sins of enemy in neighboring buildings. With this floor cleared, he moved up through the stairs to the upper floor, proceeding with the same thorough search as before. Again, he found no signs of ATC or any other threat. That is not to say he found no one there. She was there. As he made his way into the baby room he found her standing by the wooden crib knocked over in the corner. Her back was at first turned towards him, but as soon as she heard him come in she started to turn around.
His gray eyes met the faded red of hers for just a second before he turned around and left, making his way back to the kitchen. The house was ransacked, with a lot of furniture knocked over to the ground and everyday items lying around. The place was ransacked by the ATC when they took the people living here just like any other building they got their hands on. It was all part of their clean-up operation, someone living here or nearby must have had some contact or even worked for the ATC, most likely involved with one of their 'pet-projects' in some capacity.
Regardless, with the area at least seemingly safe to rest in for the night he took off most of his gear and left it on the couch in the living room. His assault and sniper rifles, supply of explosives along with ammunition reserves, his visor glasses, his gloves and his barely held together bulletproof vest. He kept only his sidearm and combat knife. Once he entered the kitchen, he was welcomed with a decent supply of food. He saved some of it for later, but immediately proceeded to fill his empty stomach with most of what he got his hands on. To his surprise, he found that the building still had working electricity and running water. I might be able to even take a shower here... warm one hopefully. It's certainly has been a while since he was last able to clean himself.
Before that however, he boiled some water in an electric kettle he found and made himself some tea. He would have much preferred coffee but unfortunately there seemed to not be any left behind. Regardless, he was still glad to be able to drink something warm for once. A cup of tea sure as hell had water beat in taste department. Especially if it wasn't always purified.
As he waited for the water to heat up, he stepped over to the window, looking at the day's final rays of light before the sun hid behind the horizon. With a long, defeated sigh he run his hand through his unkempt, dust-covered hair. I could use a haircut... Trimming my beard would be a good idea too. He'd have to look around and see if there is a hair trimmer lying around here somewhere.
An audible click reached his ears and he slowly turned back towards the kettle, spotting Alma's figure standing beside a small bloodstain on the wall. Someone must have been resisting when the ATC came... He thought to himself as he passed next to her. It was really weird how... used he had gotten to her presence. Before, she was a constant threat, a nightmare fuel that haunted him wherever he went, and now? She was just... there. And it was honestly getting more and more difficult to keep pretending she's not. Hell, without even realizing he prepared two cups of tea instead of one.
The solitude was getting to him, that much was obvious. Humans were never built to be alone, not in the long run at least and whether he liked it or not, he was subconsciously seeking that bit of human connection that's been lacking in his life ever since... well, ever since she appeared in his life. Ever since she wrecked his life to shit and back, ever since she raped him...
Was she really the one he would end up seeking a connection with?
Was there really no one else left?
Surprisingly, the thought no longer filled him with disgust and as he sat down in the living room to drink the tea he made only to find her sitting opposite from him, for the first time in a long time he allowed himself to look at her. To acknowledge her existence.
She looked... different then he remembered. Whereas back in the amplifier, she seemed like a Frankenstein of vague ideas on what is considered attractive, with pale, unhealthy looking skin, pitch black hair that covered the better looking half of her face and almost overly skinny body. Now she was... he fought against the thought of the word 'attractive', but ultimately he couldn't deny she her appearance was... appealing. Her skin, while still extremely pale was quite a few shades brighter then before and actually looked like it belonged to a healthy young woman. The pith black hair she had before also became slightly brighter, at least in a way that it no longer seemed to swallow all of the light around it. He could now see all of her face too.
Before, her face was like a reflection of a child's view on what an attractive woman looks like with overly exaggerated features such as her overly large lips, but now her features became far softer. Her eyes, which once burned like deep red flames powered by her unchecked emotions, be it her overwhelming hate and anger or obsessive lust and desire, have now lost their previous flare, becoming faded and almost... sad.
It was damn near hypnotic to look at her sitting there. She had the other cup of tea that he made in her hand, childishly examining it, smelling and licking the liquid to see how it tastes. He almost chuckled when she burned her tongue on it... but just as she looked up at him, most likely feeling that he's staring, he turned his eyes away, nearly in panic. Now, as he started to drink the tea, she was the one staring at him. She carefully examined the way he drank, mimicking it the best she could... and it made him think.
This was probably the first time she got to drink anything like this. How old was she when they locked her in that facility? 5? Even younger then that? She was never likely to have any semblance of a normal life, but she was not even given a chance in the first place...
He clicked his tongue in annoyance. This was getting out of hand. With his cup emptied, he got up and made his way straight into the bathroom without looking back at her. She was still the object of his thoughts though. As much as he didn't like it, the Pandora's box was opened and there was no stopping the flow of thoughts and questions into his mind. He tried to distract himself by keeping his hands busy with the task of trimming his hair and beard with the trimmer he found, but that didn't help at all. Just looking at his face in the mirror was enough to get him to think about her.
Bloodshot eyes with dark bags under them, dust and dried up blood over his face, tired and defeated expression... That what just under two months of being isolated and hunted did to him but for just how long was she isolated? How long was she closed alone with her own thoughts of pain and anger? He didn't even want to think about how it must have felt to slowly be devoured by the feelings of loss and loneliness, but... he couldn't stop. He saw her in that tank. It was only for a brief moment, before the shit really hit the fan, but he saw her. He felt her.
Curled up in a ball, floating in cold darkness, all alone...
No! He couldn't keep thinking about her like that. Whatever happened to her was in the past. What mattered was now, and now she was a god damned monster who deserved no sympathy, especially from him... Except... he didn't really believe that...
He took one more look at himself in the mirror. As far as his hair went, he looked fairly close how he was when he arrived in Fairport. Satisfied with that, he started to remove his clothes, all just as dirty with dust and blood as his body was. Without much care he threw everything into the sink to at least get rid of the bloodstains with water. They would dry out overnight. As soon as that was done, he stepped into the shower, spraying himself with cold water in hope it would help him calm down the thoughts of Alma. Again, it didn't help. The fact that he could see her silhouette through shower's curtain was not helpful either.
To avoid looking at it, he turned to face the wall. He turned up the heat and started to clean himself, trying his best to ignore her presence. What he couldn't see with his eyes though, he could feel in his mind. Especially when she was this close to him. He was by now aware that there was some kind of link between them. Aristide's messages and Project Harbinger files that he gathered were clear on that and after all this time he was able to feel the connection hiumself. She could sure as hell look into his mind as she pleased and if he wanted to he probably could look into hers as well.
The thing is, he never wanted to. Be it because of fear or hate he felt towards her, he never wanted to look into her mind. He knew he could and on some instinctual level he knew how but... he was afraid of what he would find. It could have been a fuel to reignite his hate for her, something that would further justify it... but it could also be the opposite. Something that would challenge his view of her from the very foundations. Something that could... force him to let go. And he feared that more then anything else.
He wanted to hate her. He needed to hate her. And yet the more time has passed, the longer she remained around him, the closer she was... the less he actually hated her.
"I'm sorry..." He suddenly heard. It was... her. That was the first time in months that he has heard her voice. First time he heard it so clearly. It was not a distorted cry, not a hateful scream... It was just a quiet whisper. A weak call. And she... she was sorry? She? Alma, the fucking Mother of Apocalypse was telling him that she's sorry? For what? For raping him? For killing his squad? Was she just expecting him to forgive her for everything?
To be honest... he wanted to... and it was becoming hard to deny it. "Why?" It felt like an eternity has passed before he managed to push that single word out of his throat. It's been so long since he said anything to her and the last thing he did say was a loud declaration of hatred... It was a word he wanted to say for a long time even if he didn't realize it, a question he needed an answer for more then he wanted to admit. For a long while, she remained silent, but didn't leave as he expected her to. She continued to stand still behind that curtain, casting a sleek shadow upon it.
"Why have you done all of this?" He continued, not making a move to face her. "I know what you've been through, and trust me I get it why you would kill people who did this to you. I'd do the same in your place... But that's not everyone you killed. And killing is not all you've done." His hands closed into fists, both now placed against the wall. "I can ignore a lot of things you've done. Contribute it to what you had to endure... To what Armacham has put you through... But Armacham didn't start this massacre. You did. You sent your son out to kill. You killed Griffin. You killed Fox. You drove Keegan insane. You raped me... And now you say you're sorry? Why? Because quite frankly I don't remember any moment when you seemed sorry about anything you have done..."
Again, dead silence fell between them. Only the water running down his body sounded in their ears for long seconds before Alma finally spoke up again. "I was so cold... So lonely... All I wanted was for this to stop... I wanted to be free... I wanted to feel warm... My second son... I asked him to find me, to release me, but... I didn't know what they've done to him... What they made him into... He and his puppets killed and killed and killed... And he was never satisfied... So he killed more... Until my first killed him... And in the end... It was my father who opened my prison... He released me and I... When I looked at him, I remembered... Every needle he put into me... Every shock that run through me... Every test he placed me in... Every punishment he gave me... I killed him... And I liked it... I liked it when terror covered his face... I liked it when he screamed in pain... And I loved it when his flesh melted off his bones... I wanted to feel that again... I wanted to find those who hurt me... And I wanted to hurt them too... But my first was there too... I wanted to touch him... To hold him, at least once... But he rejected me... He pushed me away in fear of what I was... It hurt so much... But then... I felt you..."
She paused for a moment, suddenly appearing right behind him, inside the shower. "You don't remember any of this but... We've met before... A part of me that slipped away from the containment... You met it long ago... When you first became part of their schemes... I talked with you... And I liked it... You were not afraid of me... I liked that too... You were not scared to touch me... And I loved it..." She gently placed her hand on his back. It was... warmer then he thought it would be. Her touch felt soft, downright pleasant. It was almost as if her skin was made of silk... He liked it.
Her fingertips slowly traced a line along his backbone as she continued. "But they made you forget... Cleaned your mind of memories of their experiments... And of me... When I finally found you again, you were already back in their hands... They continued their experiment even though it was killing you... I had to help you... But stopping them would kill you... All I could do was keep you alive... I was afraid after you woke up... I was no longer sure what I wanted... What I should do... Part of me wanted vengeance... To hunt down everyone who has hurt me... But the other part wanted to reach out to you... Hoping to relive the happiest moments of my life..."
"But... Before I could decide what to do... They've put you in that machine..." He could feel her hand trembling lightly as she slowly moved it away from him. "I don't know what it did to you... All I know is that... The bond I've formed with you changed... It was... Like a sudden shock to my mind... I started to feel strange... I started to want things... Things I never knew I could want... At first it was like walking through a fog... I knew I was fallowing you... But I didn't know why, or what I wanted from you... You kept running away from me... Pushing me away every time I came to you... And each time it hurt more and more... I felt like a starving dog chasing after a piece of meat... With the hand that held it snatching it away each time I went to grab it... And by the end of it..." He suddenly felt her forehead lay against his back. His heart immediately skipped a beat though he wasn't sure if it was out of fear or... because he enjoyed it.
She was shaking against him and as her hands found their way to his shoulders, she slowly pressed her whole naked body against him. "I didn't just want the thing it held... I wanted to bite that hand off too..."
In a split second, he turned around and pushed her away as hard as he could. "Fuck off!" Her back hit the wall with a loud thud but she didn't seem hurt in the slightest, just... sad. "You don't get to play the fucking victim in this! You don't get to stand here and pretend like everything you've done was beyond your control! This would all be over long ago if you'd just stopped and thought for a second! I don't remember meeting you, you're right about that. But what does it change? Even if you are telling truth and Armacham really did mess with my memories, that just means whoever you've known is long gone. There's nothing between you and me!"
"Our bond still remained!" She shot back, for the first time letting her frustration show in her voice. "I know you can feel it, stop pretending that you don't! I've been looking into you mind ever since I saw you again, I know you're as tired of this as I am! I know you don't want to hate me any more! So you tell me why! Why do you still force yourself to hate me!?" She took a step towards him as he took one step back. "Why do you reject me when you want to hold me!? Why do you blame me for what I couldn't control!?" With every step she made towards him, he made one back, soon hitting the wall with his back. "Why do you berate me for not letting go of my hate, when you can't let it go yourself!?"Only now, when her face was mere centimeters away from his did he notice the tears streaming down her face. "Why won't you love me!?"
In a sudden outburst, he pushed her back towards the wall again. Holding his arm against her throat, he pushed it hard against her, but again it didn't seem to bother her in the slightest. His hands were closed into fists as he tried to stare her down, but amidst all the anger he was able to muster into his glare there was also something else. Confusion. Conflict. Curiosity... He wanted to know. What she really felt, what was really her goal in all this, did she actually regret what she did... And for once, his desire to know, was stronger then fear of the answers.
He looked into her mind; fully opened himself to her.
He took off the blindfold he placed on his side of their bond and what he saw... Justified all of his fears... His mind was immediately flooded by an ocean worth of pain and resentment, hate boiling over from every corner of her mind... And all of that held suppressed by a faintest bit of hope to rise above it all and let it go. Hope that even after everything that happened, every hour of suffering she endured and every sin she committed, she can still find a semblance of acceptance... and love she was denied for all of her life. Love that her father gave up on in the name of his ambitions. Love that her mother never got to give her. Love that her own sons failed to show. Love that... she hoped he would return...
His eyes slowly widened as the onslaught of her emotions washed over him and her thoughts rang in his mind. Can you feel it? Her voice sounded in his head, bringing his attention back to her. Please... Don't push me away again... I can't take this any more... Please... Let me love you... He could feel her heart pounding as if it was his own, feel all of her hopes for a better tomorrow laid bare before, hung on a thin thread... She gave him the power to cut it. To crush any chance she thought she had at having a semblance of a normal life. To throw her down into an endless pit of rage, vengeance and despair... He could also do the opposite. He could take the bit of hope she managed to hold onto and pull her out of the sea of rage she tried to escape... He could do something no one else has done for her – give her a chance.
And with one more look into her mind, he knew exactly what he should do.
She slowly reached her hand towards his face and just as the tips of her fingers started to slide along his scratchy beard, a slight smile appeared on her face. Their bond was immediately flooded with genuine happiness and relief she felt once she brought her face up to his and gently placed her lips against his. The kiss was... childish in every sense of the word. He almost smirked at how awkward and amateurish it was in contrast to her appearance, which might as well have belonged to a professional model and was more then likely at least partly based on her reading his mind.
He soon placed his hands around her, resting one at her waist and pulling her to him as the other reached to the back of her neck. Before, he always thought her body would be cold as a corpse, but that assumption was being rectified. She was warm like any living person. He could also feel her heartbeat not just through their bond, but also directly through her chest as she pushed herself against him, forcing him to question his view on her 'living' status. He knew that she technically died once ATC cut off her life support and left her to slowly die, that memory was very much present in her mind and was affecting her as much as having her children taken away. He also knew that she only continued to linger through her psychic abilities but could they be strong enough to fully bring her back to life? She was pregnant after all, it would be pretty hard to believe that a walking corpse could bear a child, even if that corpse belonged to the most powerful psychic the world has ever seen.
He started to look through their bond again, searching for the answer only for Alma herself to provide him with what he needed. She pulled away from him and bit into the skin of her own thumb hard enough to draw blood. "I was dead... When I left the vault I was... Just a spirit... Controlling my dead body... Like a puppet..." He watched as her blood drips down on the shower floor, soon disappearing in the sink. "But I have changed... In time my body returned to life... To be with you..." The wound quickly closed, leaving no sign of it ever being there, other then his knowledge that she is indeed made of real, living flesh and blood.
With that matter cleared up, she moved in to kiss him again, but before her lips reached his, he lightly pushed her against the wall and pressed his lips against her himself. Her previous attempt at kissing him, while definitely enjoyable in a way, was also... insufficient. With her this close and with their minds finally connected she was proving to be outright intoxicating. He was quickly growing not only to enjoy the feelings of her warm body, smooth skin and sweet lips but outright desire them. His kiss was far more hungry then hers; deeper, more passionate and far more heated. She gasped as he started to push his tongue into her mouth but quickly grew used to the sensation and begun to mimic his moves, albeit clumsily and almost shyly.
He had no such problems. With his suppressed desires finally released and further amplified through their bond he continued to grow bolder with each passing second. He started to explore her mouth with vigor he never felt before, only further encouraged when he heard her moan softly into the lip-lock. Both his hands slid down to her hips, squeezing them gently and drawing a long, content moan from her. They were growing aware of each other's arousal, not only by looking into the other's mind. His erection was by now firmly pressing against her vagina, wet with more then just water. She was happy to rub herself against him as her arms started to travel along his back, only further fueling his desire for her.
Soon enough, he pulled away from the kiss, listening to her breathless moan as he lifted her up with his hands still on her butt. She was as quick to wrap her legs around him as she was to moan when he started to eagerly kiss her neck. And he was equally quick to push his member into her awaiting entrance. "Michael~" They both gasped and moaned loudly as he slowly moved deeper and deeper into her. The sensation was... overwhelming, completely different then what happened in the amplifier. For both of them.
Alma could feel her whole body melting from the sheer ecstasy of the moment. The warmth, the pleasure, the love... It was like nothing she's ever experienced. He'd accepted her. Despite all she went through, everything she's done... There was finally one person who accepted her. Accepted who and what she was. The one person she loved above all else was no longer pushing her away, but instead embracing her.
As soon as he pushed his whole length in, she tightly closed her arms and legs around him as her lips closed in towards his, pulling them into another deep, heated kiss. This time, she was the one to take control of the exchange, quickly learning to mimic his actions from before. She pushed her tongue as deep as she possibly could, teasing and biting on his lips whenever the opportunity arose. In response, he did the same, quickly turning this into a heated battle for control that neither of them really wanted to end. They both were shortly unable to satisfy themselves with just that however. Alma's legs slightly loosened their grip on him, while he dug his fingers into her soft butt, preparing for this to finally get serious.
With their lips still locked tightly he slowly started to move his hips, pushing in and out of her. They both started to moan into the kiss, soon forced to break it as they both took in a deep breath. A thick trail of saliva connected them for a moment until the water washed it away. Michael was starting to speed up, panting hard. He felt like he could cum at any moment, but tried his best to hold back and keep going as long as she needed him to. Something was telling him that Alma is the kind of woman one would rather not disappoint.
Not to say that the word 'disappointment' was at the moment anywhere near her mind. She was too busy trying to wrap her head around all the stimuli her body was being bombarded with. With one moan after another coming out of her mouth she buried her face into his shoulder. Her inner walls were closing tightly around him, making holding back that much harder for him, but at the same time forced him to put more strength into his thrusts. Exactly what she wanted. Each time he would push his length all the way inside her whole body shook with pleasure and tremble with excitement for more.
It was however not going to take long before they both reach the point of no return. Michael's movements were becoming more and more erratic and wild, he was barely able to keep a steady breath as his arms were becoming barely able to continue holding her. He tried to distract himself with the sound of her moans turning into screams and the feeling of her fingers digging into his back, but it was all for nothing. Before he could as much as summon a thought, he was already pushing his member as deep into her as he possibly could, listening to her loud scream of ecstasy.
In a moment of uncontrolled passion, he sank his teeth into her trembling body, only driving their orgasms to a whole new level.
For a long while they continued to hold each other tightly, riding off the heated afterglow of the act. No longer able to continue holding her up, Michael slowly lowered his companion down as she placed her still shaking legs back on the ground. They were both panting hard as they leaned against each other for support. Alma placed her hand against the visible bite mark on her neck, questioning him about it.
In response he simply started to chuckle lightly. "That's for... Smacking my face... In the amplifier..." Everything was suddenly so... easy. To just let go of it all. To get rid of the hate he held for her. To stop lying to himself... He didn't want to hate her. He never really did. And even despite all she's put him through, he was entranced by her ever since he first saw her. Even though he didn't realize it, something was pulling him towards her from the very beginning and he could no longer deny it. He no longer wanted to. And who knew... Maybe in time whatever it was he felt between them would turn into more then he thought possible...
He felt her hands moving back up to hold his face. Still panting lightly and with a faint blush on her face, she stared right into his gray eyes. There was something different about her gaze that he couldn't quite put his finger on, but before he had a chance to really think about it, he felt her pushing herself hard against him. He slipped on the shower's wet floor almost immediately and braced himself for impact... Which never came. Instead, he felt something soft hit his back as the light around him disappeared along with the sound of running water. He could still feel Alma against his body but... She was sitting on top of him?
It took him a while to get his head back in working order, but soon after he did, he realized that he was no longer in the shower. He was lying in bed of the house's master bedroom, completely dry and with Alma resting her hands against his chest as her still hot vagina slowly slid against his half erect member. She was looking down at him through half opened eyelids, panting lightly as her skin glimmered in the moonlight. Her eyes though... They were no longer the same sad, faded orbs he's seen before. The faint red glow of her iris returned, but it was no longer as it used to be. Whereas they were once filled with her raging hatred and anger, oozing with lust twisted by her unrestrained and broken mind, now they felt warm, inviting, tender, loving... He could easily get lost just looking into them.
As she started to move her hips faster against his hardening member her panting turned into quiet moans. He placed his hands on her thighs, slowly running them along her skin before she abruptly lowered her face over to his. "Thank you... For giving me... A chance... I... I promise... I'll make it all right... I..." She whispered, kissing him gently as she slowly slid his now fully erect member back inside her. "I love you~" Rising back up, she arched her back as her hips started to move up and down. Her eyes were still only half open and focused on him, lovingly looking as he looses himself in the feeling of her warm walls gently hugging him. She could feel his hands shaking as he slid them up to her waist, only prompting her to move faster as his head fell back against the bed. Seeing his eyes close tight and teeth clench she moved her lips to hover over his ear, letting him listen to her moans while she stared to kiss and bite on his earlobe.
Before long, she could also feel his member twitching inside her, signaling his approaching release. She sped her movements up even further, impaling herself on his length hard as he shook underneath her. He came soon after, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close as he sprayed his seed inside her. His world went white, leaving only him and her in his mind. The sounds of her moaning and purring against him as he rode off the orgasm were unlike anything he's ever experienced before. Her very presence was like a drug by now, and he was slowly growing addicted.
Even as he was cumming, Alma never completely stopped moving, continuously sliding him in and out of her warm vagina with gentle moves. He was having trouble fully calming down for a long while after he had finished and she was deriving great enjoyment from watching him drown in pleasure she was giving him. In time however, he adjusted his hold on her body and abruptly flipped her over to her back.
Immediately, he started roughly thrusting into her with his still hard member. Unprepared for the sudden shift, Alma -who was already close to cumming herself- released a loud moan into the air as her body gave into the pleasure and she simply surrendered herself to him. With her legs spread wide and arms laid on the sheets she arched her back, feeling an orgasm approaching within mere moments. He placed one of his hands against the back of her head, grabbing a handful of her hair before pushing his lips against her. Placing one hot kiss after another on her lips between their pants and moans, he moved his other hand over to her shapely breasts, squeezing them roughly and pinching her nipples.
After just a few moments of him continuously assaulting her body with pleasure, her hands tightly gabbed the sheets as her back arched again. Her walls were closing in against him again, hard enough to almost stop him from moving all together. She was cumming, far stronger then before. Just as he pushed himself all the way in, she locked her arms and legs around him to keep him there. She screamed out as the space around them started to bend. The winds suddenly picked up, opening windows and throwing books off the shelves. Lights started to appear around them like blurs, flickering and engulfing the room in orange glow while Michael felt himself unable to hold off his third orgasm as the sheer amount of stimuli from both his body and their bond overwhelmed him. His vision was failing him, and his whole mind was again focusing squarely on her. With his hands, he tenderly caressed her body as they both slowly rode off the wave of pleasure that washed over them, basking in the afterglow as they panted against each other.
It lasted a long while before he was able to see clearly again and feel all of his body. He quickly found it that Alma has flipped him over to his back and was now slowly moving down his body, sliding her breasts against him. Refocusing his eyes on her, he witnessed as she first takes his still not softening member into her hand. He groaned loudly as she started to stroke his length with her hand and was outright ready to pass out when she placed the tip in her mouth, sucking vigorously. Just barely managing to force his head not to fall back, he into her eyes, both focused on him and filled to the brim with lustful flames he was yet to cleanse.
It seemed like this was going to be a long night...
He wasn't sure when he awoke. He wasn't even really sure if he really was. All he knew, was that his whole body was aching like it never did before. His crotch especially. No amount of combat training has ever put him in a state like this... And yet he never felt so well rested. It was as if a huge weight fell of his shoulders overnight and the exhaustion of the previous weeks evaporated. He could feel her beside him. He could feel her throughout the whole night... Alma, the nightmare that hunted him, monster that caused deaths of countless people... And now also a warm, comforting presence lying beside him.
Slowly, he started to open his eyes. The sun was already high up in the sky, now cleared of the manacling dark tint. It's been a long time since he's seen a clear blue sky like this... It's been a while since anyone in Fairport saw it. Forty years since Alma herself did...
She was awake too, quietly lying beside him with her back pressed against his chest. Her eyes were looking up at the sky just like his were. He had his arm around her and started to gently slide it along her skin. "I'm not sure what I feel anymore..." He said abruptly but neither of them looked away from the sky. "I hated you for so long... I was afraid of what would happened if I stopped, as if I needed to hate you if I wanted to keep going... And now that I no longer do... I'm confused... About many things... I'm no longer sure who you are to me... I don't know who I want to be for you... I don't know where I want this to go... But if there is one thing that I do know..."
His hand slid down to her stomach, just barely feeling a little bump on it. Alma slowly turned around to face him. She gently smiled at him, already aware of his thoughts. "I want to love you..."
And they lived happily ever after... Or at least until Alma's next period.
Either way, I'm going to use this little section to thank everyone for reading this little story (that got about 3k words longer then I planned) and encourage everyone who bothered to read this Author's Note, to leave a review. It really encourages me to keep making these.
Also, I'm probably going to make one more F.E.A.R. One-shot, which will be a crossover with 'Psychonauts' game, and something of a proof of concept for a story I may make sometime in the future (knowing me, it will probably be in a few years if ever).
Have a good day.
Song of the day: Any Given Day – Home Is Where The Heart Is