Rivals with Benefits, PiV, Cunnilingus, Cum Eating, Hair-pulling, Name-Calling, Aftercare, Cuddling, P○rn with Feelings
Summary: Your no-feelings-purely-sex-so-we-don't-kill-each-other relationship with Commander Graves has started to make you both a little warm and fuzzy in the heart lately.
Crossposted from Ao3
Say what you will about Phillip Graves, that man is not a coward. He puts all his body weight on you whenever he's on top of you. You call him your weight blanket with a cock, in your head. He'd probably grind you up like a mortar and pestle if you said it out loud. Like he is right now, fucking you in a pitch black room with the covers on top of you both, making the Amish proud. You can feel his heartbeat dancing on your ribcage—and you like it.
He’s gentle tonight, so gentle that if you were a forty-year-old midwestern white woman at the housewife erotica section, you might have referred to what you were doing right now as ‘making love’. Stretches you lovely on his cock with each thrust he bottoms out into you, hides his groans into the plush of your lips. It’s the only time he ever kisses you. And it looks like tonight he has a lot of noises to suppress.
You’re not sure what got into him tonight specifically, but it feels like if you were to interrupt his ‘’loving’’ for even just a second with a question, you would go back like a snap to the quick, fast, and distant pounding he gave you back when you first started this not-a-relationship; humping your anger out like teenagers in supply closets by day and empty breakrooms by night before he finally let you in his bed. The upside to that arrangement is now, instead of throttling each other at missions at the risk of compromising them, you’re straddling each other and letting it all out immediately after. The downside to that is that is because of the shockingly clear change in your once eternally hostile dynamic, basically everyone and their mother’s dogs know that you’re fucking.
They’d hear it too, if he detaches himself from your lips and lets those pretty boy noises out for even a second. And boy, are they pretty. Comes straight from his chest and rasps all nicely in his tired, blissed out state. He’s got his forehead pressed against yours, giving you a nice view of his lovely blue eyes all blown out and hooded with lust, rolling ever so slightly to the back of his head every time he feels you clench around him.
His mouth travels down to your neck in kisses so he can stare dumbly at the angry, purple marks he sucked all over it. You’re lucky it’s freezing out, so your wardrobe full of turtlenecks isn’t screaming to the world that you’re hiding his tacky hickeys underneath your Steve Jobs cosplay. He leaves space between you both for his hand to travel down to between your thighs and rub torturously slow circles to your clit. He must have been close— you feel even closer.
‘’Ready?’’ He breathes out to your neck before giving it a kitten bite. It’s going to be your third orgasm for the night, and you feel your vision darkening the more he pulls you closer to the finish line. If you were to look down, you would be seeing a thick ring of white covering his shaft every time it connects with your pussy. It’s messy, it’s hot, and unless you’re actively participating, it’s gross. Honestly, you’re just glad you thought of putting a towel down this time.
A whorishly loud and drawn-out groan manages to slip out of him when he drives his cock into you for the final time and hurriedly takes it out to spill all over your twitching pussy. It’s a big load too; it always is. His balls aren’t just infuriatingly pretty, they’re full cum to cover you in too. You want him to do it inside you one day, feel it pulse and shoot directly into your cunt and keep him warm until it softens. Too bad he refuses to put ‘’too much’’ faith in your birth control. He refuses to put a condom on, too. Idiot.
As soon as he cools off, he props himself by his elbows and starts travelling even lower, his fingers never once leaving your clit.
‘’Aren’t you gonna clean it first?’’ You give him a knowing grin, knowing exactly where this is going.
‘’Oh, I’m gonna clean it alright,’’ he drawls and digs in. Face full of your pussy, mouth dribbling with his own cum as he laps it all off of your folds. Nasty, nasty, man. You think you might be in love with him.
You come all over his mouth with a scream the second his tongue replaces his fingers on your clit and starts flickering in a way that makes you tremble and spasm like a victorian woman receiving hysteria treatment for the first time. Locking your legs around his head, you grip him by the pretty blonde strands and shove his face on it. Grinding on his lips and tongue to ride it out. You swear you could hear him purring at the rough treatment.
He presses a parting kiss to your pussy lips as he uses the towel below you both to wipe away any excess sweat and runaway drops of cum he missed before crumpling it into a ball and throwing it to the hamper on the other side of his sleeping quarters.
This is usually the part where he helps you out of bed on account of your post-orgasm shaky foal legs and lets you do your walk of shame back to your own room. Not tonight, apparently. Because as soon as he was done with his impromptu laundry-ball number, he went back to pressing you into the mattress with his entire body.
Round two? Or was it four? No, because then he wouldn’t toss the towel away. Are you sleeping in? Are you cuddling?!?!?!
‘’Whaaaat’s happening?’’ You ask with a shaky laugh. He doesn’t even open his eyes when he answers. Snuggles more into your chest, even, like he’s listening to your heartbeat.
‘’It’s 2 am. We’re sleeping. Good night.’’ He says it like you’re stupid. Right now, you feel like you might be.
‘’Aren’t you gonna, uh, kick me out?’’ Now, he looks at you. Brows furrowed, upper lip curling up into half a grimace.
‘’I never kick you out,’’ he says it as a matter of factly ‘’You leave.’’
You do? Holy shit you do.
‘’Hm.’’ You hum like an idiot.
‘’Hmm.’’ He hums cause he’s mocking you.
You lay there in silence for some time, soaking in the realization. After a while, you let your fingers travel back to the gorgeous head of hair you were pulling like you were playing tug-of-war with his scalp just a few minutes ago. They’re soft, so soft. It’s like you’re gliding your hand through wisps of silk. He relaxes into your touch, smiles at the sensation. But he can’t stay sweet for long.
‘’Goodnight, ugly .’’ Oh, so it’s gonna be like that.
‘’Goodnight, tiny .’’ Based on the look he gives you, you feel like you’re not going to be able to sit right tomorrow morning.
New update, finally. Things have been so busy lately! Very mundane chapter, lots of talking. Just something small and casual as I slowly move the plot along. It's a slow burn for a reason though. Enjoy chapter two of this silly thing I'm doin.
MDNI, no ai, don't be an asshole, you know the drill.
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Start from the beginning
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Word count: 1.1k~
Warnings: none for now :)
As if it’s the most natural thing in the world, he’s leading you two down the hall – turning right towards the gym at the end. He’s a surprisingly chatty guy from what you can tell, still enthusiastically gesticulating while talking about the base.
“Now y’see here? There’s the gym behind us – but if you look over this balcony –“
“Over there?”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s our security checkpoint, you would’ve come through there when you first arrived. Behind that is admin, then the field and pool. Pool’s always open if you ever fancy a dip – and this,” he continues, spinning around to face the gym – “is our state-of-the-art gym. Real proud of this. We’ve got pretty much everything you could imagine in here. The sauna’s great after a rough workout. It’s got your standard weights and equipment too, of course. Some specialty machines – they were certainly a pretty penny. There’s also this section – those mats are for sparring. We’ve got some spots to also practice drills, reflexes, all that good stuff. A few soldiers put together some ideas and now we’ve even got a little parkour track. It’s cheesy, but it’s done wonders for a cleaner exfil when the getaway car’s not there yet, so to speak.” Graves beams at you, clearly excited. During the conversation, both of you had unlinked arms – now simply leaning on the balcony, facing towards the gym.
I do not know the first thing about fitness. Just pretty much ‘eat healthy and exercise’ – but it looks like there’s more to it than that.
“God, I’d be so nervous about breaking something in there.” You mutter in reply, a touch of amusement on your face as you imagine yourself trying to navigate the equipment and everything else in here.
Though, the sauna should be foolproof. And the view wouldn’t be half-bad either.
The late afternoon air flows through the gaps in the balcony railing. There’s a beat of silence between the two of you. Nothing awkward about it, just a simple pause to take in the lovely atmosphere.
“You worried ‘bout breaking equipment – or yourself, Skittles?” He lets out a hearty chuckle. “’Cause if you’re worried ‘bout either, I could always come be your gym buddy – help you get the hang of things?” He’s just such a friendly guy after all.
At least that’s what he’s telling himself. I’m just being friendly with the new recruit on base. That’s all. Just sharin’ my skills. I like ‘em. Seems sweet. Could be fun, training, stretching, sparring-
Graves cuts off his mind from wandering, clearing his throat as if it’d help clear his thoughts. He’s hoping you’ll take him up on the offer. Lucky for him, you were hoping he would offer.
“That would be great, really. I don’t know the first thing about what to do, and I don’t wanna be sitting there uselessly down in medical.”
“Nothin’ wrong if you get hurt and gotta be in medical. Recovery takes time, and pushing shit onto yourself while you’re bruised and battered just makes it take longer. Medical liases with our logistics team in headquarters, workin’ out the best way to be able to get you better. Besides, it works both ways – a lotta people here would go mad just sitting about, so they also figure out what’s safe for you to still do if you want to keep yourself busy.” He stares off into the distance, absentmindedly scratching the back of his neck.
“I’ll admit, it feels a little less scary hearing that. I’ve not really been in any situation like this before. It’s all very new.” There’s a lot more vulnerability in your answer than you intended, but you shake it off quickly. It’s just nerves at your new situation. You’re still staring off into the distance.
Graves looks across at you, empathy written across his face – and a small instinctual smile. He knows how brutal it was when he’d started his line of work. It doesn’t help that you’re practically a civilian still, and he mentally winces at the potential scenes you’ll be witnessing. Without thinking, without breathing, and without noticing the slight quiver in his expression – he goes to place a hand on the small of your back – catching himself midway and putting it on your shoulder instead.
“Look, Skittles - if ever becomes a bit too much, my door’s always open. I get it. It’s a lot to adjust to. The offer’s there if you, y’know, ever need it. You don’t have to be a stranger.” He finally stammers through the statement. His heart’s racing, he’s got a hint of redness across the cheeks – and you’re still staring at the view off the balcony.
Fuck, that probably sounded weird. Just don’t want ‘em in the deep end, feelin’ hopeless. It’s a shitty feeling, wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Relax, relax, relax. It’s just an offer to prevent it. I’d hate a sweet thing like ‘em to struggle. That’s the same for everyone here.
“That’s really lovely, thank you…Graves? Should I call you Graves?” You turn back to face him, the afternoon sun casting a subtle glow around you. There’s a smile from you that could convince anyone to move a mountain.
He clicks his tongue, pretending to ponder the question deeply. “Graves is perfect. Easiest way to get me to hightail it over towards ya, at least.” A hearty guffaw escapes his chest as he straightens his posture to regain some semblance of composure. “Is there anything else you wanna look at today? We can always finish this tour tomorrow, figured maybe you’d wanna grab some grub down at the mess hall.”
“That sounds heavenly right now. Lead the way.” Finally taking note of your own appetite, you agree. The kind of food that’s being served would certainly be another factor on whether you accepted the position.
Graves spins on his heel, gesturing for you to follow. You retrace your steps back from the gym, past the barracks, through headquarters, which opens into a larger hallway. The end of the hallway opens out into the mess hall – a large cafeteria-like room. Except…nicer? You’ve handled a few office jobs that have a decent cafeteria in larger workplaces, but they still carried an air of high-school and university nostalgia. This place was nice, like nice nice. A few dozen sat throughout the large atrium, various foods stacked on everyone’s plate. Not plastic plates either, standard dinner plates. Metal cutlery and glass cups, too. Several buffet style benches set up around the room, each with a few different options. The seats look comfortable in here too, especially for a meal and a chat.
ghost is a big sucker for lingerie and just seeing you in it makes him instantly hard, so may as well fuck you to help with his boner
simon decides to makes a mess in the most inconvenient times, like when he pulled out while fucking you in the car
as much as you may think he isn't touchy, ghost loves having his hands on you, especially if they are groping your ass
ghost letting his oral fixated lass suck on his tip. but he has to stop himself from cumming when your tongue gets into action
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price 🚬
having to clean the sofa is part of the things price has to do when you visit him at base because he always leaves you leaking with his cum
price doesn't have enough time to fuck you, but he can't seem to stay away from your pussy, so might as well give you something so you think about him the rest of the day
price is for sure the kind of man to come up behind you as you are cooking and press his hard cock against your ass
price sneaking in a cheeky wank in the office, without caring that he shares it with other people or that he might get caught
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gaz 🧢
when gaz is extra horny you don't even make it to the bedroom, he just fucks you right on the sofa -if he even reaches it before pouncing on you-
cop!gaz pitching a tent after pulling over the prettiest thing, he couldn'thold himself and had to solve that big problem of his
gaz tying you up and using your pussy like the good little slut that you are, fucking into your wet middle incesantly
kyle doesn't give a damn about getting caught fucking you in the balcony. matter of fact, he would love to have someone see the way he cums all over your face
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soap 🧼
if soap wants pussy, then he's getting a tast of it without a care of how inaproppiate it is or who sees
when soap misbehaves badly all he's getting is to fuck your legs until he patheticaly cums over your heels
soap will only let ghost fuck you if he gets to clean his cum out of your pussy by eating you out
soap and you desperately fucking in public when the idea was going on a scenic lil walk or hike back in scotland
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graves 🪦
graves fucking you like a madman whenever he's stressed and you becoming collateral by getting overstimulated due to his incredible stamina
your little glasses make graves go crazy, so he has to execute some serious restrain not to cum in them instead of in your mouth - he doesn't want to get told off-
graves sometimes needs to be reminded of who's in charge, maybe by pulling his belt snuggly agaist his throat and making hm eat you out
graves fueling your praise kink, teling you how nicley you take his dick and how much of a good girl you are for him
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konig 🗡
konig bending you over on the sofa and plunging his cock into you, kissing your cervix and turning you into a babbling mess
when looking for a car one of the most important things for konig was being able to fit his big musular frame comfortably to fuck you in the backseat
beign stuck in a safe house with video surveillance, this man is just going to fuck you nicely and put on a show in the process
konig waiting nicely for your permission to cum and shooting thick ropes the second you call him a good boy
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nikolai 🇷🇺
nik is a big man and he really loves to fully crush you with his weigth as he grunts in your ear at how good you feel around him
· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·
rudy 🦌
finally allowing rudy to cum inside of you by pushing him in as you feel he's about to cum while giving him a handjob
· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·
alex 🦿
alex making sure to fuck you dumb and making your eyes roll back with those long and deep thusts of his
· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·
alejandro 🤠
slow night with alejandro leads to getting fingered until you cum ad you suck the digits of his unoccupied hand
· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·
makarov 🐺
you dare break makarov's rules? good luck getting edged, not getiing to cum and end up with your pussy locked as he goes away for work
don't have time? don't worry he will just fuck you in the car as he's being driven somewhere
Thanks for enjoying the prologue while I was with family over the holidays. As a treat, I've made the first chapter double-length, and you get a nice map of the base too.
Hope y'all like the big chapter, and sorry for any spelling/grammatical differences. Blame it on Australia. Minors do NOT interact, even if the chapter is SFW. Don't feed my shit to AI. Don't be an asshole, etc.
Today's GoFundMe that's been chosen: Help save 4yo baby Issa's vision.
Start from the beginning
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Word count: ~2.0k
Warnings: None really. Very slow burn. Swearing, maybe?
After landing, a car picks you up and takes you around the outside of the base. There’s no way in hell to tell where you are, but the scenery is nice at least. A little forest-y – but that’s probably for the better, if the required confidentiality is anything to go by. You peek through the few sections of gates into the base, sandwiched in between towering walls that leave everything to the imagination. The car could barely be even called a car at this point, it’s closer to a gigantic and fearsome beast. A beast in the shape of a heavily armoured truck. There’s the whir of the engine underneath your seat as you finally turn, pulling up to the administration building and security checkpoint.
Making your way through security to the inside, there’s not much hustle and bustle through the buildings. It takes a minute until your suspicion of this potentially being governmental or military related work is confirmed, by two soldiers in tactical gear sprinting ahead of you as they bicker to each other. The uniforms do utilise the same insignia you saw on your introductory paperwork, as well as – if you’re being honest to yourself – the incredibly attractive and sleek black colour throughout. There are minor accents here and there across some of the smaller details.
Where’s all the noise though? Shouldn’t there be a LOT more people for a structure like this?
It seems to be more intimate of an affair than you originally thought. As you’re led down the hall, and through headquarters you can’t help but take in the scene around you. A few meeting rooms, one with a group of the same uniformed soldiers discussing back and forth about something on the projector inside. Another group is pawing through documents strewn across the table, notably with more than a few empty energy drink cans about. There’s a break room, and looking through the door you notice an incredibly large fridge, couches, tables - even a little balcony attached to it. Excellent amenities you’ve seen so far. Another good sign. Before you emerge from the hallway, there’s a closed door on the left. The blinds are down on the windows, and there’s a small golden placard on the door that reads ‘War Room 1’ in an elegant script font. Exiting the hallway, you see what you assume to be the gym, and the barracks themselves. Shuffling through your papers, your itinerary shows that you’ve been given quarters in barracks building A. Though looking again at the map, there’s a little star marked that could’ve told you a lot quicker. No biggie. You’re on the top floor, and each floor seems to have roughly six sets of quarters. They’re quite tall buildings, and when you finally find your door – you figure out why. Each set of quarters is unbelievably enormous. A big queen bed, a dresser, wardrobe, and vanity – a kitchenette AND an ensuite bathroom? Complete with a big bathtub?
Surely there’s been a mistake, right? Maybe this is just visitor accommodation?
You cross-reference with the map and your documents. It all checks out. Room S10 in the ‘specialist operations wing’ has your name written on it as plain as day. There’s even an embroidered towel with your initials in the bathroom. Sweet touch, albeit extravagant. There’s your suitcase on the bed, now open and bursting with your possessions. The steps you take around the room fuel your curiosity for poking about and getting a feel for the place. You didn’t shut the door however, so you do get a bit of a startle when there’s a man leaning against your doorframe. Completely undetected and unnoticed, he had leaned against the frame and simply watched you go about the area with intrigue. Studying your actions like an animal in a zoo, then fixing up his dirty blond hair before returning to his original posture.
You certainly jump, that’s for sure. And let out an incredibly large…
“Motherfucker!” It fires out of your mouth faster than a bullet from a gun as you jolt upright, hand immediately moving over your chest as the shock makes it feel that the air has been stolen from your lungs.
Probably shouldn’t have yelled that, especially not at a potential coworker.
“Good evening to you too! Sorry I spooked ya.” He chuckles as a grin casually spreads across his face.
“I take it you’re inspecting your surroundings?” There’s a slightly smug aura about him, you’d usually ask where someone like this gets the audacity – but those blue eyes could get anything at this point.
“God! Sorry, I’m so sorry! Yes, I am. Didn’t expect any company with that though. It’s quite big, I’m almost worried there may have been a mistake made.” You manage to blurt this out fast enough to elicit further amusement on his face. He looks at you with a knowing glance.
“There’s no mistakes ‘round here usually. You seem to have the same quarters as everyone else. If you want, we can chit-chat for a bit about anything unclear. You’re the university hire, aren’t ya?” He drawls. A lovely bit of southern twang dripping from the way he speaks. Before you can even introduce yourself, he continues, “Don’t worry. I know your name, saw it earlier on the paperwork. Though at this point you’ve already earned a nickname, unfortunately in front of the king of stupid nicknames. Considering the skittishness, I think we’re going to call you skittles. Sound’s fun, right?”
“Certainly does. Again, real sorry about that.” You quickly apologise once more.
Less than a day in, and I’ve already got a nickname for doing something dumb. Not a great omen, but not a bad one either.
“Ah, it’s no issue. Sometimes I can be a bit quiet, habit of the job.” He beams. The man’s clearly got pride in this place, and who could blame him? Seems very comfortable and oddly welcoming so far.
“So, you’ve got my name, and I’d like to not call you ‘motherfucker’ each time I see you. What’s yours?”
I am NOT making that mistake again.
“Graves. Phillip graves. I-“ He can’t even finish the rest of his sentence before you interject.
“Phillip Graves… Phil Graves… Fill. Graves. Are you kidding me? Your name is a fucking pun on it’s own, it sounds cool – and I get called ‘Skittles’ for likely, forever?” You fire back, enjoying the small changes in his face when you let out a small giggle.
“Seems to be. Maybe if something else pops up, we’ll change it. Can’t take credit for the pun though, that one’s courtesy of my mama. Suits me, don’t ya think?” He flashes a cheeky grin, the jovial attitude certainly making you forget about earlier.
“I can’t disagree there.” A slight smile, with that look in your eyes gives just enough of a tug on his brain that he’s gotta recollect his thoughts. Not that you’d be able to notice that small of a difference, yet.
“Well…may I come in?”
Fuck. I’ve just been talking at him while he stands in the door, I completely forgot that he was kind of glued there. He could’ve already come in. It’s nice he still waited and asked though, another good indicator.
“Yes, absolutely, of course you can. Though, would you know why it’s so fancy around here? Everything seems great, and I’m just taken aback somewhat.”
It IS weird though. The status quo is to treat your employees like fodder for a capitalistic machine. It’s to give them the bare minimum so that they can’t quit, but are unable to demand more. Seeing how far you can push the line of violating labour laws before you get into trouble is a strategical normality in the business world. It’s not right, it’s not good, but it’s what we’re stuck with in the late stage, so – what’s the catch?
He saunters forward through the room, making his way towards you. Nicely dressed, a little bit of sway in his step – with a sandalwood and mint aftershave carrying itself through the air as he moves.
“Well, you take care of your people, and they’ll take care of you. Simple as that. The company hires small, pretty hand selected. Gives incentive. Ain’t no way that people will give a shit about how we perform and what we do if there isn’t any real recognition. Gotta be somethin’ tangible. Gotta make the wins personal to everyone, not just a bunch of top-brass pockets. The work’s important, and if we do well – we’ve got a big payday among few. Besides – these people are living here, workin’ here, it’s certainly an odd setup. Their families put their trust in us to take care of ‘em. If they don’t have enough to live a better than good life, then what’s the point of the effort? I know money isn’t everything in life – but the company will be damned if it ever lets its’ people go without. People make this place, Skittles.” His chest puffs up with a touch of pride, and you can genuinely feel his love and admiration for this place. A very good sign.
That’s actually real fucking reasonable. It’s kind of sad that an attitude like this is so rare. I thought I would see pigs fly before I got a decent job.
“I wouldn’t doubt that in a second, but I’m just kind of surprised that this thinking is across the entire workplace. It’s strange. I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, though. Seems like they’ve thought of everything.” Your reply increases the puff in his chest just a little bit more. He shifts his weight onto his other foot, just the most minute hint of anticipation in the way he carries himself.
Graves finally lets out a breath that he didn’t even know he was holding in. There was just something about this entire thing, maybe the excitement of having a fresh face around here? Unbeknownst to you, pretty much the entire workforce had been hand selected by him. Probably just some jitters. Never done this before. He assumes.
Almost out of habit, he runs a hand through his hair again. “So, has anyone taken you for a tour ‘round here yet? I’m hoping your answer’s ‘no’ because it’s one of my favourite parts with new recruits.” Always smiling, but now with an eyebrow raise. He certainly is hoping.
You smile, flattered by the gesture. It’s on your itinerary to have a tour after you’re done unpacking, but something tells you that you’d much rather have a tour by him instead. He’s confident, charming, and has a good grip on what goes on around here. You do also like a man who’s certainly got manners, and a concept of boundaries. He’s done the work on himself already, even if he’s still a little rough around the edges.
Fuck unpacking, I’ll do it later. No way am I passing this up.
“I haven’t had a tour yet, no.” You reply sweetly. “I’d love to join you for it.” Before you can even finish your sentence, he’s already got an arm presented.
Really? How sweet is this guy? Maybe he likes me? No, I’m reading too much into it. He’s probably just being friendly.
“You’re welcome to take my arm if you’re worried ‘bout gettin’ lost, but I get it if you just wanna walk side by side. Not everyone would wanna do that right off the bat.”
Yeah, like I thought. Friendly. Glad I didn’t make an ass of myself. I’ll still take him up on the offer, though.
You link arms, walking out of your potential new ‘home’ for the near future, nothing but your phone, and your lanyard. It’s got a staff ID card on it, a keycard to access rooms, and a little multitool with the company’s name on it. Another nice touch. This place truly pays attention to the smallest of details. Everything’s got thought and a purpose – and not just ‘practical’ shit either, they seem to count ‘for fun’ and aesthetic appeal as purposes too.
You two take your first few steps together, down the hall.
i finally just got back from holiday and it literally went so bad our entire extended family is cutting contact with our mother (as is my little circle) sorry for the slow updates :)
I really appreciate the love I got on the prologue, and decided to add in some extra stuff to it rather than a timeskip. As I said, this is going to be a really slow burn.
Prologue 1 here.
Prologue part 2? - 1.3k, SFW - plans for reader x graves (though I may write side drabbles if desired), I'm hoping to try and ramp up the quality. MDNI, zero tolerance for minors being around - nothing particularly triggering, swearing I guess? I've indented dialogue to make it easier to read, since I figured colours would be a bit too distracting. Don't feed my work to AI, yadda yadda. Also I figured I'd start chucking a different gofundme per chapter in this section, just as a little fun positive thing. I've picked this one today.
You walk along the aisle, taking a seat that’s facing towards the closed cockpit. Buckling yourself in, you feel the vibrations of the cabin door slamming shut, the small ding of the seatbelt sign, and the rumble of the engine coming to life. Looking out below, you see the area you once called home become smaller and smaller. Trees turned to twigs as the plane slowly began to ascend into the sky.
You walk along the aisle, taking a seat that’s facing towards the closed cockpit. Buckling yourself in, you feel the vibrations of the cabin door slamming shut, the small ding of the seatbelt sign, and the rumble of the engine coming to life. Looking out below, you see the area you once called home become smaller and smaller. Trees turned to twigs as the plane slowly began to ascend into the sky.
A short while later, you’re able to take off your seatbelt. Walking towards you was the only other passenger besides the pilot. The driver walks up to you, boasting a folder with a simple iconography, featuring a rook inside a spade. Really? Putting the pieces together, someone thought they were being clever and symbolic – but it came off kinda smug and pretentious. Despite that, it still felt slightly clever enough to briefly humour you.
“This is just some preparation that’s been organised for you. I’d suggest looking through it, it’s pretty much your itinerary for the next few days. Has a bit of extra paperwork too, if you chose to continue beyond the interview. Also, a rough layout of what areas are strictly relevant to you. Venturing into other places without the proper clearance is generally cause for alarm, and you’ll likely get your ass handed to you. If you’re lucky, it’ll be verbal – so I’d also suggest keeping that on you.”
What the fuck does he mean by THAT? Maybe it’s governmental work?
“Doesn’t it seem a bit silly to give me a map if it’s such a top secret layout?”
“You’re not a threat at this point in time.”
Ouch.
It was a feeling that could only be described as ‘ominous embarrassment’. This is the most you’ve spoken to the driver from earlier, and finally take in his appearance. Average height, with a lean build. There’s some medium length locks framing his face, parted down the middle. He looks down at you, with an expression so lacking you’d think he’d never experienced an emotion. Brown eyes, but he’s wearing clear contacts. You wonder how he’d look with glasses. As he speaks, you notice a slight stubble – and a pair of very neatly manicured brows furrowing in your direction.
“Well?”
Fuck. Wasn’t listening.
“Oh I agree completely.”
There we go, saved it.
“So, you agree you might have questions?”
Goddammit.
He lets out a small chuckle, eyes slightly crinkling at the corners with a faint hint of a smile. Thank god, he’s amused. Making a terrible first impression on the people around this company is not the way to go. Considering the perks so far, you find yourself increasingly nervous for the interview – the desire to actually be able to do your placement here grows, adding to the pressure. He’s in a basic black suit, with a slightly stuffy black tactical vest over the top. A small, embroidered strip of grey fabric sits across the left of his chest, reading ‘Smithstone 1-4’ just above his breast pocket. He takes a seat in the chair across from you. Finally coming back to earth again, you ponder on anything you might potentially want to know.
“So… what kind of deal is this? You guys working for the government?” – the most obvious question. He shifts slightly in his seat, answering with a simple “Something like that.”
Alright, not great in terms of detail – but it’s at least something. You press further.
“Why the big plane?”
“Boss uses it for a few things already, mostly meetings and other stuff. He figured it was simpler putting you in it, rather than dealing with anything commercial.” He answers, very matter-of-factly. “We’re not typically a first choice, so we don’t get many applicants. Most students have us as a backup, not as the main option. So forgive us, this is a little new for everyone involved.”
Huh. job’s turned from creepy, back to intriguing.
“D’you like working here?” You wonder, figuring if he’s been put in charge of you, he’s probably a safe bet on getting a feel for this place.
“It’s good. Can’t complain. We’ve got great benefits, a decent salary, and a pretty good work-life balance. The only catch is the life part. You do get space to do stuff on your own time, but we’re all kind of restricted in how much movement we can make. You’ve typically gotta stay in the nearby area, and there’s not much around in most places we go. The work certainly tests you though.” It seems promising, the words sounding genuine.
“Any more questions?”
This is another question I absolutely should’ve asked earlier. I hope it doesn’t sound rude.
“What’s your name?”
“Oh. Probably should’ve introduced myself. I’m Jessie, but we usually just go by last names. It’s not mandatory though, just how the vibe is.”
Jessie Smithstone, huh?
“Well, it’s been nice to meet you, Jessie.”
“Nice to meet you too.” He responds, running a hand through his hair. He figures it’s time to leave you to read through the folder on your own, accepting the hint to move to a different chair without you even noticing. Seems like the employees have pretty good instincts.
The documentation is some standard non-disclosure agreements, just not to talk about where you’re going, where you’re interviewing, what you’re interviewing for, not to discuss anything heard (or overhead) while you are present, and the potential ramifications for doing so. There is a footnote with these at least, ‘If you require assistance in understanding these, we do have legal advice available to help you go over this contract.’ – that’s nice at least. Care certainly has been put into fully understanding what you’re getting yourself into, but you’ve yet to be enlightened on what the fuck is this kind of company?
The rest of the documents is as Jessie said – a map labelled with any landmarks you may need to find your way across the large… building? It couldn’t really be called that. It’s almost like a compound. There are quite a few sections shaded off, with a key in the corner explaining that these sections are restricted. Each relevant point of interest is labelled with a star, and several paths are outlined between these sections – providing you a set of routes for wherever you needed to go and where you absolutely shouldn’t. An itinerary explains where you’ll be staying, in a small set of quarters, at the west wing of one of the buildings. You’ll be touching down, unpacking, and being given a tour before dinner. After that, you’ve got a few hours to do what you wish around the place – or choose to go to bed. The next day will be your interview, starting at midday – and deliberation will occur in the afternoon. You’ll be given the outcome on whether there’s a contract to potentially accept, or having to go home. You’ve still got the option of declining the contract, but that’s been put off the table. This could be the opportunity of a lifetime, and ‘No.’ isn’t an option for you. Not out of lack of choice, but out of want. The seatbelt fastening sign dings to life, as the pilot explains you’ll be landing shortly.
