First post so i apologise if this is bunz✌️i haven’t actually finished mgsv yet so im sorry if this is ooc!!
MgsV ocelot x Autistic! Reader
Ps. This is based on my own experiences as an autistic girl and i recognise that is a spectrum so not everyone is going to be the same!! So i apologise if this doesn’t exactly line up with your experiences - 1.5k words
Right.
That was the mission. Afghanistan. Fuck.
Your shoulders still hurt from the last one, all the hot water on mother base doing nothing to soothe the tension the open gun wound had done to tear through the muscle of your body. One bullet and two slight grazes. V had worse. You’d live at least, which meant you were eligible to get back into the field. You liked it somewhat.
You knew how to use your hands, people were awkward. You were supposed to follow the social script. The standards. Otherwise you were alienated. An alien. A filthy cockroach next to all the other frilly dollies in a playhouse, trying to blend in like you were the only one who couldn’t see what was wrong. None of those dollies would now how to use a gun. Or a knife. Told you, you should smile more. You found it easier. No one would critique you for your lack of eye contact on the field, or why a roach was among butterflies. Anyway. Roaches ate butterflies right?
But still. Sometimes the things you try to hide seep down at the edges like water. The more you pushed it down the harder it would dampen the edges.
It was tight. Weirdly tight in the wrong places. Across the back, around the ankles- not how it usually was. Why was it different? if its not broken don’t fix it right?
“Why am i orange.” You frown, eyebrows raised like you were in pain, staring at the slightly older man- Ocelot. Your commanding officer. You liked that he was called ocelot. Ocelots are big cats. Cats purr. Purring is nice, He looks like a cat..if a cat was a grown man. you thought, brain already trying to place how it feels
“It’s actually middle eastern desert sand.” He muses simply, looking you over
“I don’t fucking care if I’m the colour of the pyramids of Giza. Why am i orange?” You snap, squinting at him like he was at fault here. You needed someone to blame “I’m usually white. Im always white. Why is it different. Where’s my old suit?”
“Its got three huge holes in it if you remember.” He raises eyebrows, turning slightly “or do you not remember bleeding out everywhere?”
You remember vaguely- the thrum of the helicopter, a headache that split you in half, grabbing quiets hair as she carried you across mother base.
“You could have died you know.” He grunted simply.
Your expression softened slightly at that, but was quickly drowned by the sickening feeling of uncomfortableness
“What..?” You pout “are they fixing it? Am i going to get a new one?” You ask, pulling away slightly, the fabric of the thing around your body seemingly getting tighter, pushing everything so close your skin itched- a tag digging in somewhere.
“I don’t know I’m not the one who issues them sweetheart.” He shrugs off simply, turning back to you to look you over. “M’ sure if you ask miller-“
You whine a little, swapping the weight on your feet “no!” You whine “im not-..i cant! Its all wrong!” You mumble, tilting your neck awkwardly as you raise your arms
“You alright?” He asks casually, looking you over like he didn’t really care, his eyes only making you stiffen more, fingers still fidgeting “cuz its clearly not-“
“Stop looking at me.”
He sighs, adjusting his body until he wasn’t facing you, still near enough in your direction although. “Alright. Is..everything alright..?” He asks, slightly more supportive now than before. “My uniforms really different.” You whine a little, trying to squirm out of it for a moment, like a huge roach on its back, a mix between honest disgust and pain on your face that you couldn’t exactly hide “i don’t like it.” You complain, pulling at the sleeves while actually looking at him this time.
“Well..what’d you want me to do about that?” He scoffs, tilting his head a little “Im sorry to break it to you sweetheart but Afghanistan tends to be covered in desert..“
You shift awkwardly, flapping your hands a little in agitation “you know what i mean! I always ware white! And this is beige not white!” You snap a little, tapping your foot “why is it different now!” You grumble, already pulling at the fabric “quiets waring black!” You whine
“You’re acting childish-“
“Fuck off!”
You stomp away, the weird uncomfortableness itching all over your back and under your skin in a way that wanted to make you undress, so you started, already unzipping the bodysuit which usually was a nice white. Like it had always been, now a weird beige that was just different. Why did no one tell her it would change? Now it’s all wrong. Not caring for the fact you rarely wore not much underneath, liking how tight and secure the usual outfit you wore was. Now the whole mission was wrong.
“C’mon baby don’t be like that.” He hums, walking swiftly after you, grabbing at your shoulders to make you face him “not here.”
“Don’t touch me!”
You whine a little, tears already swelling under your lash line, shivering back at the unexpected touch, arms bracing your own as he lifts his just a fraction before pulling away “easy, easy c’mon..” he hushed, like you were a rather overactive horse than anything else.
You side eyed him once more, staring at his neck now as you scratched at the material of the funny jumpsuit, tears spilling.
“You don’t-..you don’t get it.” You whine, wiping at your eyes. “I know.” He groans. “Jesus fucking Christ, woman…” he mumbles “you don’t like the suit. I don’t issue the uniform. Your old one has three bullets in it, Yea?” He mutters “you want to be walking around like quiet?”
You wipe your eyes, sniffing a little and thinking about it, she understood why her gorgeous companion wore what she did, but she doubted it would be very secure in the breast area. You shook your head, foot twisting in discomfort as the tears stopped “i-..but..i wanted..it..to be exactly the same.” You shrugged, a rather pained expression seeping through the seams of your face “it’s all wrong! And now the missions wrong!”
“hey..hey..I’ll get someone to fix your old suit so it’s exactly the same.” He hums gently, making the uncomfortableness fade slightly, hitting your legs a little as you shook your head, trying to get the feeling out of your bones- taking a deep breath “y..you promise..?” You whimper slightly, more unguarded than usual.
“Pinky swear.” He hums, eyebrows raised, watching you calm slightly “just gotta ware this for a while to protect your ass.”
You look at him for a moment, looking him over properly, thinking of the correct response before shrugging, pouting a little as you wipe your eyes again- not sure which is the correct dialogue option to not make this weird. It wasn’t his responsibility…but the thought was nice you suppose.
“Did..you know that ocelots are nocturnal?” You say, less more than asks as you change the subject to avoid making things weird “..yea..” He responds. Okay. He clearly was the one making this awkward. You turn to side eye him slightly, only looking at his neck..he needs to shave. When he returns the gesture, you tilt your head at him slightly instead of backing off
“You want a hug?” He offers after a moment.
You nod simply, reaching for him before he can reciprocate, clutching onto the edge of his shirt, rubbing your head against the expanse of his chest, before his arms hold you against him. The pressures nice, and you want him to do it harder until it hurts. You step on his feet, and you smile a little “y smell funny.” You mumble against him, earning a little smile from Shalashaska himself. He smelt like gunfire and iron, mixed with that weird musk every male smells like. you don’t think you disliked it.
“Not as much as V im sure.” He mumbles against the top of your head, earning a little giggle from you, to which you pull back a little, looking up at him through drying eyelashes, blinking a few times “..kiss..?” You ask quietly, gripping his forearms gently.
He sighs, rolling his eyes a little before grabbing your face and pressing his lips to your forehead, a little twang of disappointed fluttering in your belly that he wasn’t tonguing you, but it soon morphed into contentment when it seeped down between your legs when you felt the slight brush of the stubble on his face against your forehead as he pulled back, your clit perking up a little as he squeezed the sides of your face a before pulling back completely, looking around for a moment; only to pull the zip of your half undone suit up fully, so your chest wasn’t peeking out.
“Y’alright bug?” He asked gruffly, turning away
“Yea.” You mumbled quietly, forgetting that your suit was entirely different in the first place already
“Right. Lift off’s in a few minutes. Y’still got a job to do if y’can manage.” He hums, patting your back as he walks off.
Right.
