Please.
R. J. MacReady (The Thing) x reader
Warnings: death, sexual themes, severe injury and graphic detail, assimilation
Context: Mac and the reader are interrupted during private time.
A/n: sorry about this😅
Masterlist
Tag List: @time-is-a-lake @80s4life
Neither of us are particularly cheerful as we make it back to MacReady's shack, the man simply pulling me inside out of the cold and wrapping me in a tight embrace. His arms are firm around me, my own reciprocating the reassuring nature of the action as we relax into each other's touch for the first time in hours. Under my cheek, Mac's coat is cold, damp from the relentless snow outside but his breath is warm as he buries his face in my hair, nuzzling me affectionately, my heart skipping a beat at this unusual display of care. The man is generally callous, capable of showing that he cares for people but only in unconventional ways, like being incredibly overprotective. This close embrace is a rare occasion, but then it's well-earned.
Another wave of sorrow hits me as I recall the horrifying turn of events of the last few hours, ever since we found that damn dog. Thanks to that, we've now lost nearly half of the original team here at Outpost 31, with the rest of us paranoid and distrustful of each other, quick to temper and far too fast with our weapons. We've all lost friends, whether we like to admit it or not.
"Come on, it's warmer in the bed." Mac hums to me, voice muffled by my hair, the helicopter pilot pulling back slightly to look down into my eyes.
Recovering my composure, I nod and let him lead me over to his bed, where he quickly pulls back the covers and gets in, uncaring of whether or not he's still wearing filthy boots. Wrapping his arms around my waist, Mac pulls me down onto his chest, cradling me against him, helping to cultivate a new warmth that we both groan at, relaxing into each other. The numb coldness in my limbs slowly begins to ebb away as the heat from our combined bodies encompasses us, lulling me to sleep, though I don't want to - along with the harrowing yearning is a deep, hungry desire, my mind racing at the knowledge that this could well be our last few moments together.
Mac seems to realise this, too, slipping cool hands under my shirt to massage my hips, his lips tenderly finding my neck. A sigh escapes me as he leaves butterfly kisses up my throat, steadily making his way to my lips, my hands sneaking around his neck as he presses closer. Arching into him, I feel his hands pin me against his body as he carefully rolls us over, caging me in with his arms. With deliberate slowness, his lips trail up my neck, ghosting over my jaw to my lips, leaving goosebumps forming all over my body.
When he finally kisses me, I can't stop the breathy moan of pleasure that leaves my throat, every nerve in my body alight and eagerly awaiting more. Kissing back, I fall into rhythm with him, our lips smoothing together languidly, tongues darting out to press against each other lovingly, drawing sounds from both of us. Threading my fingers through his hair, I feel something stir in my stomach, though it's not the pleasure I expected - it's stronger, somehow enhanced. Most likely it's due to our complete lack of intimacy in past weeks, though the slick coolness that pools in my gut is unusual. Shrugging it off, I continue kissing the man above me.
By now, his hands have pushed up my shirt and coat, rough calluses leaving me sighing under his touch, his thumbs brushing over my clothed nipples. At his touch, I buck up into him, breaking from the kiss to let out a sharp moan. Mac smirks down at me, repeating his action. When I respond accordingly, he leans down and presses a kiss to my cheek.
"You wanna feel good, (Y/n)?" He hums to me, nosing at my neck lovingly.
"Yes!" I reply enthusiastically, trying to pull him back in for a kiss.
Unfortunately, he pulls back, moving down my body with a devious look in his eyes. As he reaches my abdomen, the man pushes my shirt up, revealing my soft skin to the frigid air, maintaining eye contact with me as he slowly leans down. A moan tears itself inadvertently from my throat as he flattens his tongue against me, licking a strip up to my naval before pressing his lips above it in a hot kiss. Sucking marks as he goes, Mac presses multiple wet kisses up towards my chest, pinning me in place as I start to writhe. The feeling in my gut has spread, cold, wet discomfort now squirming through my abdomen, making its way to my chest at speed.
A little concerned now, I try to ignore the slick feeling making its way through my body, focusing on Mac's hot mouth on my skin instead. He's licking back down towards my waistline now, nibbling here and there his beard scratching pleasantly along my sensitive skin. Pleasure ripples off of me in waves, moans falling like a mantra of his name from my lips, my hands gripping the sheets.
And suddenly something has changed.
It's not too noticeable at first, just a small change in my thought process. Pleasure is being registered, but a new instinct has kicked in, one I've been running off for the most of the night, though it's now at full throttle, sending a shock of tension through me. Then things get worse, my limbs now feeling somewhat unresponsive, though they are doing exactly as they are being told to. A secondary voice joins my inner monologue, though it's not a language I recognise, rather a mix of clicks and hisses spoken by a multitude of speakers.
Panicked, I sit up, using what control I have to push Mac away, my eyes wide.
"(Y/n)? What's wrong?" Mac asks, worried as he stares down at me, having knelt upright again.
"Something's wro- argh!" Pain suddenly explodes in my chest and shoulders, spreading quickly to my abdomen, my body folding in on itself to protect itself from the invisible attacker.
Agony sets every nerve alight inside me, drawing a broken scream from me as I quickly realise what's happening, my eyes widening. Instantly, I push Mac off and stumble away from him, putting space between us. Every instinct in me, not my own, shrieks at me to return, to carry on. To fit in.
"(Y/n)!" Mac shouts climbing off of the bed as I fall to my knees.
I wave him off as he tries to come over, my hands reaching to pull his desk in front of me.
"N-no!" I force out, lifting my head to look at him just as blood begins to pour from my nose, bubbling up in my mouth, "M-mac, it got me."
Hacking up a mouthful of blood and black fluid, I fall back onto my hands, coughing all over the floor. My thoughts and urges are quickly being taken over, my need to leave becoming harder to control now that my body is no longer my own. Glancing back up at him, I feel a sharp pang of grief go through me as I realise what needs to be done, seeing the horrified knowledge on Mac's face.
"Mac, you have to-" I'm cut off by a bout of coughing, blood spraying from my mouth as another spasm of agony shoots through me.
Screaming, I fold to the floor, unable to move as I feel the skin and flesh on my left shoulder blade tear apart. Blood pours down my back as something pushes from the gaping hole, unfolding to its full extent, a new limb for me to use. The pain swiftly triples as three more push through different points on my back, broken cries breaking past my lips, my eyes barely able to open as blood clouds my vision.
"Oh, god, (Y/n)! No, no, no, this can't be happening!" Mac's voice is grief-ridden, helpless and hopeless, "You son of a bitch! Fuck you, you alien piece of shit!"
His sorrow pushes me into action, drawing on my last ounce of control and strength. Staggering, I climb to my feet, reeling as I turn and limp to the door, groaning at the pain. Falling against it, I leave bloody handprints in my wake as I fight every instinct inside me and open it, tumbling out into the raging snowstorm beyond. Behind me, I can barely hear as Mac follows me, the flamethrower he's taken to carrying around held in hand, body tense.
Shuffling back away from any building, I look up at him, retching up a brackish fluid as I make eye contact.
"M-Mac, p-please…" The icy wind is bitingly cold, tearing into my body relentlessly, ruthless in how it shreds my every limb.
In the dim light, I can see tears streaming down his face, mirroring my own, his grief and sorrow breaking my heart even as another tendrils bursts through my ribcage, drawing a harsh scream from me.
"(Y/n)...I'm so sorry…" He murmurs, barely audible as he levels the flamethrower at me.
Terror and panic explode within me, my hands scrabbling to get me away from it, though they aren't too responsive in the cold. Any of my own thoughts are very quickly being extinguished, angry and frightened emotions taking over.
"Mac please! I love you!" I scream at him as he finally presses the trigger.
Instantly, blazing heat surrounds me, bright orange blinding me as the pain suddenly becomes bearable. I'm finally warm again, properly this time. I can't see anything now, can't feel anything, numbing heat flowing over my skin, caressing me lovingly, burning away my skin and flesh, blackening the atrocities that have buried themselves within me.
It's not long before everything fades out, my last thoughts of MacReady filtering out, leaving my head blank. Perfectly and entirely blank.