Mon, 14 Oct 2024 19:44:34 GMT

Hexerazitex

Frankie stares into the empty closet with rapidly mounting dread. Hexerazitex isn't there. Hexerazitex isn't there. She knows Hexy was in her closet when she left for work, she'd had to wiggle around it to get her hoodie. And now it's gone. It isn't under the bed, it isn't in the bathroom. It isn't under the couch or on the balcony or behind the TV cabinet. Frankie's halfway through turning the entire apartment upside-down when Jules comes home from work. Jules stands in the entryway, eyebrow raised as she surveys the damage.

"What are you doing?" Frankie only panics for a second before her brain supplies a reasonable lie.

"You haven't seen my phone charger have you? I swear it was in my room, but I haven't been able to find it anywhere."

"Nope. If you need one, you can just borrow mine." Jules toes off her loafers, drops her keys in the bowl, and makes her way to her room. She opens the door, let's out a yelp, and immediately slams it shut. She turns to Frankie, panicked, and Frankie's heart falls through the floor. "There's something in my room!" Jules whisper-shouts. Frankie pinches the bridge of her nose and strides up to the door. She really didn't want to have his conversation today, but it looks like she doesn't have a choice. Jules attempts to stop her from opening the door, saying something about cops or animal control, but Frankie isn't really listening. She picks Jules up, ignoring the indignant squawk she lets out, puts her down, and walks into the room. Sure enough, curled up under the bed, is Hexerazitex; surrounded by snack cake wrappers and cuddling her roommate's teddy bear. Frankie stalks out of the room, swearing under her breath while her roommate stares at her like she's grown a third head. She snatches the spray bottle off the desk in her room, stomps back to Jules' room, shakes Jules off as she tries to stop her, and starts spraying the ungrateful little freeloader in its rough approximation of a face. The bed tumbles over as Hexerazitex snarls and launches up to its full height.

"HOW DARE!? HEXERAZITEX WILL-" It stops dead as it looks down at Frankie, stone faced and brandishing the spray bottle menacingly. It looks around the room, then at the teddy bear still clutched in its hand, and then back at Frankie. "...This is not Francine's bedroom."

"No, Hexy, it isn't."

"Oh." Frankie is about to light into her most annoying roommate when she hears a loud thud behind her. She turns around to find Jules passed out on the floor. She lets out a long-suffering sigh before putting the spray bottle down and attempting to haul Jules onto the couch. Frankie's just about wiggled her into place when she sees Hexerazitex attempting, poorly, to sneak back into her own bedroom.

"Where do you think you're going?" She holds up a finger as the creature starts fumbling for an excuse. "We agreed you were going to lay low, and I even bribed you for it, and what do I get in return? A shadow monster on a sugar-bender traumatizing my roommate. You're going to go back into that room, put everything back where you found it, and clean up your goddamn mess. And once Jules is awake, you are going to apologize. Do I make myself clear?"

"...Yes Francine." The creature says sulkily before turning around and lumbering back into Jules' bedroom.

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Cross posted from Cohost. Writing prompt: Mech Pilot who just has to hold it together for the last hour of the shift.
Content Warnings: Adult content, abuse of power

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Hudson leans back in her chair, cracks her neck, and stretches. She hates graveyard shift, but somebody has to run nighttime perimeter checks. She's certain the infantry could handle this, but the brass are scared that the Jovians are still lurking around. Never mind that they hadn't seen an enemy frame in almost a month; just scattered infantry and mechanized units desperately trying to get offworld after they got their asses handed to them at Karlman's Hill. Still, the pilots are forced to stomp about in the dark looking for enemies that aren't there, which means Hudson and the other handlers who drew the short straw need to lose out on prime sleeping hours too.

"I'm getting up for coffee, be a good girl and don't get in trouble while I'm gone." Hudson doesn't wait for a response before pulling her headset off to dangle around her neck and heading to the kitchenette. She sets the kettle to boil and doses out the crappy army instant coffee. She plucks a granola bar out of the cupboard, fills her cup with water, and moseys back to her station. Screens are all clear, nothing on radar, another boring night. She glances down at the cockpit camera and sees her pilot sweating and squirming like she has been for the last six hours. Hudson fishes the remote out of her pocket, slips her headset back on, then cranks the dial as high as it will go for two seconds. She grins wickedly at the yelp and moan on the other end. "Miss me princess?"

"S-sir! Please! Please just l-"

"What did I say, princess? You have to hold it for the whole shift. You wouldn't want to disappoint me would you?" Hudson cranks the dial again and revels at the agonized moan. It's not exactly acceptable procedure, but she wouldn't be the first to do it. Pilots are notoriously codependent and eager to please as a result of their conditioning. Besides, on nights like this you need to make your own fun.

"Sir please! I'm so close!" God bless whatever pervert in the design department conned the military into thinking pilot suits needed to be made of skin-tight latex. She can see everything clear as day, from the bright red flush on her cheeks to her bulge straining against the suit. They've reached the begging, and Hudson knows from experience the poor thing won't last much longer, orders or not.

"I don't know..." She toys with the dial some more, enjoying the little huffs in her ear as the pilot desperately tries to ignore the buzzing against her prostate. She's crying now, tears starting to streak down her face as she holds back the orgasm that's been building since she was sealed in the frame. Hudson glances around to make sure the coast is clear, then slides her hand down her pants. "I thought you wanted to be a good girl." Hudson keeps the poor thing on tenterhooks for a few more minutes as she approaches the edge herself. She half debates denying the girl again when-

"Please daddy!" The pilot cries, voice breaking, and how can Hudson resist when she begs so sweetly? She cranks the dial as hard as it will go and leaves it there. She grinds out her orgasm as she watches the crying pilot's eyes roll back, desperately humping back against the plug on instinct. She goes boneless after a minute, and Hudson basks in the afterglow as she watches the girl twitch and shudder before.

"Such a good girl for me, aren't you princess?" She preens at the praise, then frowns and looks down at her lap.

"I'm all sticky, daddy." The girl says sulkily, pouting at the camera.

"You wouldn't be if you'd held out. Now you're gonna be sticky until you get back." Hudson laughs a little at the sulking girl. "Maybe if you're good for the rest of your shift I'll help you shower." She perks up immediately.

"Really?"

"Only if you're good."

"Yes sir!" Hudson smiles and flicks the dial back up to low. The poor girl lets out a betrayed yelp as the two settle in to the last hour before dawn.

WhiteNoise

Night Shift