Fixation Title: Fixation Author:ladytalon1 Fandom: Full Metal Jacket Pairing: Animal Mother/OFC Rating: PG-15 Disclaimer: Not mine, not making any $$ A/N: Comes after Oasis.
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She’s only here because her father is an important editor, and wants her to oversee the other reporters… she hadn’t wanted to leave home, but was too conscious of not disappointing him to refuse the assignment. It’ll be a great opportunity for you to break out of your shell, Susie, he’d said. She’s never been good around people and prefers to hover in the background while others claim the spotlight. The presence of the soldiers makes her incredibly uncomfortable, especially the big one leaning against a bombed out wall and studying her like he hadn’t eaten in weeks and she was a seven course feast… he’s the quintessential ‘man that her mother warned her about’, and she hopes he doesn’t come any closer than he already is.
The others, Connie and Jill, are flirting with anything that crosses their path while Vinny and Russell are too busy trying to get the Marines’ attention to be worried about the fact that she’s uncomfortable. Connie goes over to coo at the big soldier who hasn’t stopped staring at her this whole time, and Suzanne grows slightly panicked as she’s left alone and a few soldiers, catching a whiff of the sickly scent of an animal abandoned by its herd, move in for the kill.
“Hey, what’s your name?” a man asks, pushing up his glasses with a friendly grin. “My friends call me Joker.”
She smiles weakly, since there’s no way to avoid answering. “I’m Suzanne.” The other men congregate around her, and their proximity sets panic fluttering through her. Please go away, please just go, she silently begs, but they don’t understand the signals her body is putting out and move closer still until finally they’re called off by Russell, who wants to break out the camera equipment right then and there for an interview. As she wilts in relief, something makes her look over to where the big Marine is; he’s still watching her and their eyes meet for a fleeting second before she glances down to stare at her shoes, blushing. He has such pretty blue eyes.
Animal Mother pushes off the wall, trying to decide whether or not to simply saunter over to the blonde and see how close he can get before she starts to panic, or to just ask one of the other women if they want to fuck. The decision is taken out of his hands when one of the men stops directly in front of him and sticks out a hand. “How ya doing? I’m Vinny.” He looks down at the extended hand until Vinny snatches it back, looking uncomfortable. “What’s, er, your name?”
The other man gets out a small notepad from the front pocket of his crisply pressed dress shirt and poises his pencil above the paper expectantly, but the big Marine simply transfers his gaze from the notepad to the almost obscenely clean shirt the journalist is wearing. None of your business. “We call him Animal Mother,” Joker offers. Who asked you? Fucking loudmouth.
“Well, I’m doing an article on your unit – I’m kind of going to need your real name,” Vinny says, chewing his lip.
So what. “Make one up,” Animal Mother finally says when the runt won’t get out of his face.
“Play nice, Mother,” the sergeant warns.
Fuck you. He steps in so close that the reporter’s eyes flare wide in panic, and rubs a filthy thumb over the clean fabric of his shirt to dirty it up a bit. “Elvis Presley.” The rest of them all laugh like they’ve gotten the joke he wasn’t making and the idiot moves off towards Joker, who’s always happy to be the center of attention.
“Elvis, huh?” The other brunette comes up to him now, winding a strand of hair around her finger and pretending she’s not really after what her body language is broadcasting loud and clear. “That’s pretty funny.” He resists the urge to tell her that no, it really isn’t, and settles on looking at how her breasts have been pushed together and up under her tight top. The whores he usually gets off with don’t have chests anywhere near the size of hers and Animal Mother forgets for a minute that he wants the blonde beneath him as she lets her breasts brush his bare arm. “You look a lot bigger than Elvis,” she giggles.
He wishes she would have just kept her mouth shut. “That’s ‘cause I am,” he drawls, bored.
“I’ll just bet you are,” she coos up at him, making a big deal out of feeling his biceps and fluttering her eyelashes. “I’m Jill.” Like he even gives a shit about what her name is. She moves away from him, pouting when Russell calls her over to get camera equipment set up and then they all give their initial interviews while the sergeant hisses at him to be on his best behavior, whatever that’s supposed to be.
There’s no chance to pull her aside and take her somewhere relatively private for a fuck, so as soon as they escort their charges to one of the vacant buildings and get the equipment inside, Animal Mother wanders off to where he’d seen a whore waiting around on the outskirts of their unit, hoping to make some money. He closes his eyes as the whore starts to suck his cock, trying to pretend that her dirty, matted black hair is instead clean, shining blonde.