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miniwheat77 · 1 year

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Pure. (Captain Price x Virgin!Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, unprotected p in v sex, loss of virginity, oral sex (f receiving), blood, wounds (let me know if I missed any.)

(Summary): You’re new to sex and John figures that out pretty quickly.

This was a request, you can find the ask here.

You aren't sure how you managed to get yourself into the position you're in now. It started off amazing. You got along well with everyone on base, all of your missions were a success and not many issues had happened since being on base with taskforce 141. Everything seemed to go so well and it was amazing. Until of course, it wasn't.

You noticed the feelings you shared for everyone seemed to be the same unless it came to Captain Price. You laughed and joked with everyone else, but when it came to conversating with him, you almost always shied away from him, bright red cheeks and you always tried to distance yourself from him as fast as possible to avoid incriminating yourself anymore than you thought you already had.

John took a liking to you right away. You were sweet and did just about anything he'd ask you to do. He adored that you seemed so submissive, so caring. You always checked up on everyone. If someone seemed like they were having an off day, you were always the first to ask them how they were doing, trying to cheer them up anyway you could, and he loved that about you. John might've stared a little too much. Might've spent too much time thinking about you, analyzing you. Figuring out your each move.

It didn't take John long to realize you acted the way you did because you were innocent. You know a lot about how fucked up the world could be but didn't have much exposure to it on your end. You only had one childhood boyfriend that you dated for around 6 weeks, and only seen him during school. You were still innocent and John admired that about you. But knew it would never last with the military. You would be broken down and worn out like the rest of them, thinking that about you broke John's heart a little. John took a liking to you right away and sometimes he flirted a little more than he really meant to, always complimenting you. Calling you pretty, saying he liked your outfits, how he liked the way your lips looked glossy from a little bit of chapstick. To you it seemed innocent, but to him he really wanted you to notice him.

He knew with the age gap, there’d most likely never be anything going on between the two of you, but it’s the thought that counts. Right?

John always looked out for you. And despite how toxic it may have seemed, he tried to keep the other guys away from you. The couple times he heard them talking about you and how innocent you were, he put an abrupt stop to that immediately. In a way, you were his and that was that. Despite being infantry and on the front lines with the group, you had started out as a combat medic and knew your way around a few wounds. Sometimes when all of the medics were busy, you were alongside helping them patch people up until they could be seen by the medics.

John carried out a mission that had gone a little south, and each member of his team was injured in some way. Gunshot wounds in places that weren’t fatal but still needed attention, gashes that needed stitches.

John was waiting outside of the infirmary, when you arrived. You had been injured as well, but definitely the least out of all of you. “John, it’s your turn to get looked at.” You breathe. “No. I’m fine.” He’s a little stern but you don’t listen to him. “How about I take a look at you? At least?” You look up at him with those doe eyes he adores so much. “Fine.” He sighs. “She told me all of the beds are full. So you can come to my room.” You nod your head, following him along the hallway. John felt like an idiot for leading his team into danger like this. It was his fault they were all injured. Even you. He opens the door to his room and you follow him inside. He closes it after you step inside. You’ve gathered a little bit of medical equipment, some tools for stitching that were packaged and sanitized already. John knows where the worst wound is, the back of his upper shoulder. He pulls his shirt off, it was no good anyways. He sits on his cot with his shoulder to you and you start bandaging him up. Luckily it wasn’t too deep to need stitches. A few other wounds on him needed attention. A couple pieces of shrapnel, gashes here and there. Once his wounds were clean and bandaged, it was your turn. You made a move for the door but he stops you. “Don’t think I don’t see the blood on your clothes Y/N.” He chuckles. “It’s your turn, sit down.” You nod your head.

He starts slow. Washing his hands, cleaning any equipment he’d need. You have to strip down to nothing but a bra and your cargo pants. It’s awkward at first but as he bandages you up, you get used to it. He starts making normal conversation as he helps you out. But eventually, it goes a little deeper. You asked him if he had a wife and he said no. No wife or kids. No relationship in the past couple decades, which made your eyes sparkle just a little when you found out.

“What’s this?” He points to your upper thigh. “Oh.. uh.” He notices the large tear in your cargo pants and sees that there’s a massive gash there. “Gonna have to bandage that. Need to get a closer look to see how deep it is.” You nod your head, standing up awkwardly. “I think I can do this one myself if-“

“Nonsense, I’ve got everything we need here. No worries okay? Nobody will see.” He reassures you. You take a deep breath and nod your head.

It’s very apparent to John that nobody had ever seen you in your undergarments before. You take a deep breath. Reaching to your front to unbutton your pants, sliding them down your thighs and off before sitting back down onto the bed. John has to force himself to look away from your panties. They were plain and white, but he still admired them. Maybe that was just because they were on you. He swallows hard as he gets to work. It’s not too deep. “I’m going to bandage it for now, I don’t think it’s deep enough to need stitches but you need to keep an eye on it. Make sure it’s clean.” You nod your head. Once he’s finished and cleaned up the dried blood on your thigh, he looks down your legs for any other cuts or punctures, not finding any. He stands up. Picking up an army green sweater of his own and passing it to you. “Here, since your shirt’s covered in blood.” He smiles.

“Thank you Captain.” You blush, taking it from him. You slip it on and he has to force his eyes away from you. You looked so good swimming in his sweatshirt. It goes down to about your mid thigh, covering your panties. He breathes out. “You’re a very pretty girl you know that?” He smiles. “Oh.. thank you.” You smile. You notice his hoodie has his scent on it. It’s intoxicating.

You’re standing now, having slipped the hoodie on, you needed to pick up your clothes. You stand up straight to look up at him, thank him for helping you out. But instead, he stares at you. He notices a few strands of your hair in your face and doesn’t think before reaching forward to tuck them behind your ear, leaning in closer to you than he intended, and he can see your eyes flicker to his lips.

You thought he was going to kiss you.

And you didn’t panic or shove him away.

John takes the opportunity and leans in, lips brushing over yours. Your eyes close tightly and you’re breathing a little heavier than before. Once he closes the distance between the both of you, lips pressed firmly to yours he moves himself closer, hand still cupping your face as he deepens the kiss. He pulls you flush against him, hands holding your hips as he kisses you. He lowers his hand to your thigh, placing it there. You don’t realize it, but you open your legs just slightly subconsciously. He takes that as an invitation, fingertips gliding over your exposed skin. He doesn’t move his lips from yours and he can tell you’ve not had much experience. You kiss him shyly, lips moving a little sloppily. He doesn’t mind.

When his fingertips glide over your opening through your panties, your lips move from his so that a gasp could leave your mouth. Only now realizing what was happening. You’re panting a little, lips plump and slightly pinker from the friction. Your eyes were wide as you lowered your gaze to where his hand rested between your thighs, rubbing over the wet patch of your panties. “It’s okay. Just relax for me yeah?” He smiles. He’s rubbing small circles into your clit, your hips bucking slightly. His fingers are just barely brushing over your opening, ghosting over your clit in circles.

“Captain I-“

“Call me John sweetheart.”

“John..” you trail off. “I’ve never.. um.” You take a deep breath. “I know love, I can tell.” He let’s out a deep chuckle, your cheeks reddening. “No… I mean.” You swallow hard. “I’ve never done anything, not with anyone. Not by myself either.” John draws his hand back, resting it on your thigh. “You’ve never touched yourself before?” He asks. “Just.. rubbing the outside. But not even that really.” He smiles. “It’s alright love. Do you want me to stop? It’s okay to stop me if you’re uncomfortable.” Your brain screams at you. This is a bad idea, he’s your captain. But the heat he’s awoken inside of you tugs you toward him. “I…” John smiles at your silence. You don’t want him to stop, but you’re too awkward to tell him to keep going. Hand gliding up your thigh again. Your eyes flutter closed, giving him the impression you’re okay with what he’s doing. He pushes you back slightly, into the wooden desk behind you. You rest your hands on it, hips pushed out from leaning against it. He rubs gentle circles over your covered pussy and your eyes are still shut, lips parted as whimpers escape your lips. Your knees weaken as he keeps a steady pace. “S’okay love.” He leans in, hot breath attacking your ear as he goes for your neck. You’re panting, and John loves this. When he kisses your neck, you’re on the edge, clutching the desk like it’s a lifeline. Knuckles turning white. You’re sure your hand will leave an impression in the wood, if you can even think about anything else other than the way his hand- oh.

A whimper leaves your lips, stomach clenching up tight. “John- I think I-“

“Shh.. it’s okay. You can let go for me. Show me how you cum, pretty girl.” He breathes. Your chest and stomach are full of butterflies, it feels like millions are swarming your body, you’re sure you’ll burst any minute. The immense amount of pleasure he’s giving you, you can’t take it. His lips attack your neck and while he wants you to be quiet, he doesn’t care. The other part of him wants to hear your moans, when you cum for the very first time. A cry leaves your lips when you cum, pussy clenching around nothing and tears gather in your eyes. John remembers the first time he’d cum too, how intense it felt, how he couldn’t get enough. Sure it was a long time ago but he still remembers it like it were yesterday. So as you pant, hips jumping when he slows his circling fingers, kissing you to hide the pants leaving your lips. If anyone heard you, they didn’t need to hear you anymore.

“That’s my girl. Such a good girl f’me.” He breathes. Hands on your hips. You’re stuck in another dimension, shot there from your intense orgasm, floating through cloud 9 as your body comes down. He chuckles, seeing the lost look in your watery eyes. “You okay?” He chuckles. “Y-yeah.” You blush. The tingling between your legs overrides the clarity you have after your orgasm. Heart settling in your chest. The fluttering in your clit was hard to ignore. John can’t help but smile to himself. You were so stuck right now, he’s sure if you tried to walk away your legs would wobble. “Sit down on the bed until you’re calm okay?” He helps you sit down and he sits next to you. “You’re so beautiful.” He breathes. John finds it harder and harder to ignore the own throbbing in his pants. But you’re not ready for that yet. “I’m sorry if I forced myself onto you.”

“No- no you didn’t. I.. I liked it.” You face is burning red. He smiles, just as he’s about to say something else, a knock at his door has him flinching. “Captain, there are beds open in the infirmary now!” Gaz calls to him. “Thank you Sergeant!” He calls back. “Should probably get back to them.” You nod your head. “You can keep the hoodie. Looks so much better on you anyways.” He breathes. You blush, nodding your head with a smile.

———

For the next couple of days, everything seems like a blur. You can’t do anything without thinking about what had happened between the two of you. How he could make you feel like that through your clothing, fingers not exploring you anymore than just the outside of your opening. When you pour coffee, you overfill your cup thinking about it sometimes. The overwhelming sensation of your orgasm sending you spiraling. The couple days after it had happened, you tried it yourself. But it ended in frustrated sighs and a cold shower. Interactions with him seemed completely normal. At least to him they did. You couldn’t look at him the same way. His fingers had done such sinful things to your body and he was so casual about it. Sometimes you’d swallow hard when he’s gripping something tightly. A pen, a gun.

Your thigh maybe?

You have to shake yourself out of it. The part of your brain that knows sex exists wonders what it’d be like to have him inside of you. Pushing your walls apart with his cock, tugging an orgasm from you. It would hurt, it’d sting. But what follows makes the fantasy worth it. An orgasm so good it makes the last look pathetic. Crying and clenching around his cock. Hitting such a high that you never come down from it.

A knock at your door brings you out of your thoughts, and you stand up hurriedly. Opening the door just a crack so you can see who it is. “Captain?” You whisper. It’s late.

“Hey… sorry to bother you so late. It’s just that gash on my back is starting to throb. I’m worried it may be infected.” He trails off. “I don’t want to take away from the medics so I was curious if you would look at it?” He asks. “Yeah. Of course.” You move aside. John quickly notices you’re wearing just his hoodie again. It didn’t look like you had anything on underneath it. “You can sit down on my bed.” John nods his head, he can see that it’s unmade, so he probably disrupted you. “Sorry if I woke you.” He says. “Oh no. You didn’t. I was just getting ready for bed.” You smile. He nods. He tugs his shirt off, and you pull the bandage off. Seeing that it does look infected. “It doesn’t look too bad, but it’s definitely infected. I’ll clean it out and put a new bandage on but you should probably see a medic for some antibiotics.” You tell him. He nods his head. Once he sees you’re finishing up, he decides to make his next move. He reaches out for your thigh, pulling you closer to him. You don’t make a sound, but don’t move away from him either. “You’re so beautiful.” He looks up at you, fingertips sliding up underneath the hem of the hoodie. You breathe hard. “Thank you.” Your heart starts to race and he can hear it.

John knows he could get himself into a lot of trouble being with you. He knows it. But when he brushes his fingertips up your panties and can feel how wet you are for him, every bit of self control he has goes out of the window. As he rubs circles into your clit again, seeing the way your eyes flutter closed and you clutch his arm for dear life. He loses himself even further. “You.. said you’ve never done anything?” You shake your head. He stands up, moving you back, watching your eyes open in frustration as he draws his hand away to do so. “Why don’t you lay on your bed f’me?” He breathes. You look up at him, and he can see the nervousness in your eyes. “Okay.” You agree, sliding back into your bad. “Relax. I just want to take care of you. Make you feel real pretty.” Your cheeks heat up. What the hell have you managed to get yourself into? “Try to stay quiet for me okay?” You nod your head, he pushes his hoodie up over your hips and you look up at the ceiling in nervousness. Nobody had seen you naked, ever. He slides your panties down your legs, throwing them to the side. When he can finally see you, all of you. He has to stop himself from drooling.

“So pretty n wet for me.” He growls. He leans down, hearing you gulp. “W-what are you doing?” You ask. Confused by how he’s getting closer to your opening as he moves himself down the bed. “You trust me?” He breathes. You nod your head. “So relax. Let me take care of you.” You nod your head, tensing up as he lowers himself into you. He wraps his arms around your thighs, pinning you to the bed so that no matter how much you squirm, you won’t get away from him.

You still don’t understand what he’s doing until he lowers himself into you completely, tongue gliding up your opening and a gasp leaves your lips. Your arousal is sticky and sweet on his tongue. He wiggles his tongue back and fourth over your clit, knowing how sensitive it is since it’s not been too abused. Your hips buck and you try to move away. The direct pressure has you flinching. He can’t help but chuckle to himself at your reaction. He continues as he normally would, kissing your clit and flicking his tongue over it. Loving how wet you’re getting and the tiny mewls that leave your lips with each flick of his tongue. The way your hips jump with every single lick or touch he makes. He draws away for just a second. Looking up at you, “M’gonna try something okay? If I hurt you, tell me.” You nod your head. Worry flows through you, but your arousal blocks it out. Your opening is already soaking with his saliva and your arousal. He slides two of his fingers over it, when the first is wet enough, he pushes it inside of you. Your eyes widen and you gasp out. You’re tight even on his finger. He has to stop himself from growling out.

When you’re adjusted, he pumps it into you, the sounds that leave your lips are unholy and he has to remind you try to be quiet for him. You’re squirming underneath him, moaning out his name which he adores. It’s music to his ears. He moves his other hand from your thigh, pressing it down onto your pelvis, holding you still for him. The second finger is wet enough, and you’re adjusted to him. He adds the second finger and you freeze, eyes widened as you stare down at him. He lets out a deep chuckle. “You like that hm?” He mumbles. You nod your head. “So pretty.” He mumbles, leaning down and flicking his tongue over your clit while pumping those two fingers into you.

You tilt your head back, pants leaving your lips as you enter a subspace.

Your body is warm, the buzzing in your head is all you can hear as he edges you closer to the best orgasm you’ll have so far. You’re doing so good for him, and he’s reassuring you. But you’re not listening. When he pushes you over the edge, you clamp a hand on your mouth, nearly screaming into it. He smiles into you, not stopping his assault on your sensitive clit. Your legs shiver and he has to hold you still so that he can finish your high, gripping you tightly. The squelch of his fingers entering you is sinful and so loud with how wet you are. The only thing on John’s mind is how he wants to hear you like this when the two of you are alone. Moaning and whimpering out loud for him, it’s a dream. When you finally come down from your high, body relaxing. Your skin is flushed red, warm to the touch. John was surprised the kind of feelings he made you feel. “You okay?” He asks. You nod your head. You’re still a little out of it. He loves it, has you right where he wants you. “You did so good for me pretty girl.” He brushes his fingertips over the bare skin on your stomach. “So so good for me.” He smiles. You notice the bulge he has in his sweatpants. Eyes widening at the size of him. How was he supposed to fit? John catches on quickly to what you’re looking at and smiles. “Hey. Look at me.” He lifts your chin so that you’re looking at him. “Do you feel good honey?” He asks. You nod your head. “Yeah.. really good. I want to make you feel good too John.” You breathe. “Hey. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. I want to make you feel good baby.” He mumbles, leaning in to kiss you. His facial hair scratches you so good, the only thought crossing your mind is how good that same scratch feels when he’s buried his face between your legs.

“John.” You mumble. “Yeah sweetheart?” He asks. “What.. what is sex like?” You ask. He smiles. “It’s hard to explain because I’m sure my pleasure feels much different than yours. But whatever you felt just there? Is probably twice as intense depending on who you’re with.” You nod your head. You’re intrigued now. After a few more minutes of talking to John, you start yawning. He smiles at you. You’re so cute. He helps you get back to bed. You clean yourself up and he makes sure you’re comfortable before he leaves. The complete relaxation your body feels sends you into a deep sleep, sleep so good you can’t remember the last time you slept so good.

Over the course of the next couple weeks, your interactions with John are much more intense. When you make eye contact, you lock eyes. You stare longer than you should at each other and when John makes eye contact with you in a meeting, whatever he’s holding he holds in a death grip, knuckles going white with the force of his hold. You’re driving him crazy and you can tell. The tension in the room when the both of you are there is so intense that that others notice how on edge he is. He has dreams about you. You pinned beneath him, moaning for him. He loses so much sleep over you. Nothing he could do himself would even compare to what he’s felt in his dreams about you. But he would never ever force you into anything you don’t want or put you under any kind of pressure. His interactions with you are normal. Small smiles, waves. Some normal chatting during pass times. John wants to come to your room and touch you every night. He wants to make you feel absolutely amazing all of the time, but he knows there’s a such thing as too much. He doesn’t want to pressure you, so he keeps his distance.

You on the other hand, hoped he’d come visit. Wish he’d come by every night. You’ve never thought about sex before, but since he’d touched you the first time, you thought about it constantly. Day dreaming about him, what he must feel like. How gentle he could be. How rough he could be. You’re losing sleep over it, distracted during meetings. You’ve never once thought about having sex with anyone you’ve met in person before, but John successfully changed that for you. You’re laying on your bed, phone in hand. You’re watching something you shouldn’t be. Videos on what to expect when losing your virginity, other videos too. It seems so good, so addicting. Your body feels hot thinking about it. If his fingers felt like that, how good would he feel inside of you? You’d finally get to make him feel good, repay him for him for how good he’s made you feel. The intimacy draws you in. You’re daydreaming about, laying in his bed as he thrusts himself into you. Surrounded by his intoxicating scent, clutching his sheets, hearing him moan out. Thinking about what he’d say.

Your body feels hot, legs sticky from your arousal. You’re not sure how much more you can take. John was on watch, he’d be getting off of it soon. You sit up, sliding a pair of socks on your feet. He has to pass by your room, you’d hear his footsteps. You think to yourself for a second. You pick up his hoodie, folding it up. You wait by your door, listening for his footsteps. After a few minutes, you want to moan out when you can hear his heavy footsteps, boots making them echo. Heat pools between your legs, and you can’t take it anymore. You have to know. You wait a few minutes, opening up your door and peeking out. You don’t see anyone, so you make your way down the hallway to his room. When you get there, you knock at his door. He opens it, smiling when he sees you. “Come on sweetheart.” He smiles. “What can I do for you Hm?” He asks. “I washed this, and wanted to give it back to you.” You smile, handing it over. He stands still for a minute. “Why don’t you keep it Hm? Looks so much better on you anyways.” He smiles. Your stomach fills with butterflies, you didn’t really want to give it back, so hearing this was good. You liked sleeping in it. “Why don’t you come sit down hm?” He pats the bed next to him, so you do. You sit down, and John can see the way you’re clenching your thighs together. He swallows hard. “John… I wanted to ask you something.” You breath, “yeah?”

“I..” you take a deep breath. “I want to know what sex is like.” You breathe. He smiles. “What do you want to know about it?” He asks. “I want to know what it feels like.” You blush. He looks confused for a moment. He freezes for a minute, hand moving to rest on your thigh. “The only way you’ll be able to tell what it feels like is to have sex, Y/N.” You nod your head, eyes meeting with his. “I know.” Those words crash right into him. “Do.. you want me to…?” He hesitates. You nod your head. He looks down. “Are you sure?” He asks. You nod your head. “I’ve thought about it, a lot. It’s what I want.” You take a deep breath. His tongue glides over his bottom lip. “Okay. Get up on the bed love.” You nod your head. John can’t help but feel a little bit of guilt. You never had these issues until he made the first move. He’d definitely need some reassurance before taking anything too far with you.

He felt nervous, a sense of nervousness he hadn’t felt in quite a long time. John tried at relationships before. He’d been with his fair share of women, but none of them ever worked out. None of them ever made him feel the way that you did. Your smile, the color of your eyes. The fact that despite being in some of the worst situations you could possibly think of, you still tried your best to cheer everyone up. Some of the best times John has had in the military is after you joined 141. It seemed dull, like he was just going through the motions. But you came along. You joked with everyone, your smile and laugh were contagious. Maybe you weren’t as innocent as he thought, not in every aspect anyways. You knew how bad a situation was, but ignored it. Tried your best to help the others around you work through it.

John moved slow. Lingering touches, gentle kisses as he moves himself above you. His lips ghosted over yours and when he tugged your shirt off, seeing your completely exposed chest, it started to hit him. This was real, this was happening. This was no dream, no daydream. You were beneath him and you wanted him. He grasps the hem of his own shirt, pulling it off before returning his lips to yours, capturing them in a kiss you may never forget. He rocks his hips into yours, noting the whimper that leaves your lips. He tries to prepare you the best he can. Keeping you occupied with foreplay. Kissing you, nibbling at the skin on your neck. Whispering to you. You start to squirm, getting impatient. He knows you’re ready, but he’s stalling. He doesn’t want you to regret this. He wants to give you as much time as possible to back out in case you’re not ready. He grasps the waistband of your shorts and pulls them down your legs, noticing you aren’t wearing any panties. He takes a deep breath at your exposed mound. Nearly dripping for him.

He reaches down to unbuckle his belt and your eyes follow his hands. Making quick work of his belt and lifting himself off of the bed to remove his cargo pants. Your breath hitches in your throat when he grasps his boxers, tugging them down his legs and revealing himself to you. There wasn’t a single layer of clothing keeping him from you now. Completely raw and exposed to each other, something neither of you would ever forget. You swallow hard when he moves to hover over you once again. Eyes looking deep into yours, waiting for you to stop him. “Are you sure you want this?” He asks. You nod your head, looking down. You wondered how it was supposed to fit, he was massive. John takes a deep breath, lifting himself up until he’s on his knees. He moves himself closer, grasping your thighs and lifting you up to move you closer to him. A gasp leaving your lips as he moves you where he wants you. An action that doesn’t go unnoticed. “You can’t take it back.” He mumbles. “I know. I trust you, John.” You breathe. He nods his head, looking down to where the both of you were about to connect.

The thought of it is like a drug. The thought of being inside of you, sounds so foreign. Yet it’s right here. About to happen. You feel the tip of his cock gliding over your opening. Gathering your arousal on the tip, gliding it over your clit. Your hips buck and a mewl leaves your lips. John bites down on his lip, harder than he means to. He takes in a sharp breath, spitting into his hand and slicking up his shaft, lining himself up with your entrance. “Relax for me okay? I’m going to hurt you, but you have to trust me.” He breathes. You nod up at him, eyes burning into his. The tip of his cock pushes through your folds, stretching your opening. Your nose scrunches up, eyes closing tightly. “It’s okay-“ he breathes.

This seemed unfair. He had to hurt you, someone so sweet and kind. But he felt nothing but the best pleasure he’d ever felt in his life. How tight you felt wrapping around the tip of his cock. A tighter death grip on him with every little bit he sinks into you. He’s trying to keep himself together, wanting nothing more than to make you feel as good as you’re making him feel. You bite your lip, trying to hold back the cries you want to let out. John hates himself for hurting you so badly. He kisses your cheeks, the small tears that slip from your eyes, he’s kissing those away too. “Take a deep breath for me.” He mumbles. You nod your head. Sucking in a harsh breath. John’s hips are halted, not wanting to push you too far. “Do you want me to stop?” He asks. He didn’t want to hurt you anymore than he had to. You shake your head. “You can keep going John.” You breathe. He nods his head. Sinking into you further.

Finally when his hips are flush with yours, he gives you a minute to adjust. He leans down, kissing you. Trying to distract you. “Are you okay?” He asks. You nod your head. He slides out of you, pushing himself into you again. The first few times he does it, it’s a little rough. It stings a little bit. As you adjust to him, it starts to goes away. You tilt your head up, chest starting to move with your breaths that are getting more frequent. “You feeling good sweetheart?” John asks. You nod your head. “Yeah. F-feels good John.” You breathe. You look down between the both of you. Seeing his girthy cock disappearing into you. How on earth it fit, how it could feel so good. Was beyond you. You felt so full of him, a foreign feeling. A moan leaves your lips, propping yourself up onto your elbows to get a better look. “You like to watch sweetheart?” He laughs. Leaning in to kiss your nose. “Mhm.” You breath. “Feels so good.” You pant. Just when you’re about to ask him to pick up the pace, it’s like he reads your mind. Thrusting a little faster, with a little more force. “Oh my god-“ you moan, letting your head fall back into his pillows. And just like your daydreams, you’re there. Tugging at his sheets as he pushes you into a high you know you’ll never come down from. Sweat covered skin, fluids mixing together, a sinful concoction. John chuckles when you moan out, making him clamp a hand over your mouth. “You’ve got to be quiet for me sweetheart.” He smiles. The fact that he could make you feel so good sends shivers down his spine.

Each sensitive spot he brushes up against, he adds more. Nibbling on that sweet spot on your neck he’d found. Fingers gliding across your stomach to rub small circles on your sensitive nub. He kisses down your chest, attacking your nipples with his lips. You’re on cloud 9 again, but it’s more intense. “Can feel you clenching around me sweetheart. You close?” He asks. You nod your head eagerly. Struggling to keep yourself together. John smiles. He rocks his hips into yours at a steady pace. “Rub your clit for me.” He draws his hand back. You take over his place, gently rubbing at it. He keeps the same pace, thrusting right into your spongy spot. You were teetering on the edge. You suck in a sharp breath when you hit your high, and John clamps his hand over your mouth again right as you cum, muffling a moan that leaves your lips. You draw your hand back, clutching the sheets like your life depends on it. Bucking your hips up into him. John rides out your high before his thrusts halt. “Can you handle it?” He asks. You nod your head. You’re dazed as he continues, right on the edge of his own high. The groans that leave his lips are even sexier than you thought, another pit forming in your stomach. “Oh fuck- I’m going to-“ he slides out of you, pumping his cock. You pull him into you, kissing him to muffle his own moans, jumping when you feel his warmth covering your chest and stomach. When he relaxes, hand covered in his cum. He laughs. “I’m sorry if I was too rough.” He breathes. “No no. You weren’t.” You blush. He’s a little embarrassed just how quickly he had finished, but he can’t even remember the last time he’d been with anyone. He stands up, getting you a towel before returning and wiping his cum off of you. Helping you get cleaned up.

When you’re wearing clothes again, he’s got you pulled real close to him. Hand gliding through your hair as you lay next to each other. “Thank you, John.” You look up at him. “For what?” He asks. “For being so gentle with me.” He smiles. “I will always be gentle with you. You already go through enough as is, I don’t need to go and add to it.” He chuckles. “Besides. You’re a sweet girl. And I’m glad you trust me as much as you do.” You lay your head on him again, eyes getting a little heavy. You don’t feel much but relaxed right now, but you’re sure tomorrow will be a different story. When you see the love bites he’s left on your skin. Maybe fingertip sized bruises somewhere on your body. The slight sting between your legs. Sore thighs. The thought of it makes you smile.

Who would’ve thought that out of all of the people you crossed paths with that could’ve taken your virginity, it ended up being your Captain.

I didn’t know if you wanted me to tag you so I’m going to anyways. I hope you like it!

@tamayakii

#call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut

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modelbus · 3 months

Text

Anyone else have a newfound love for this song and an addiction to task force 141? No? Just me?

To my mcyt readers: …I can’t explain. Just know that is ✨ different ✨ from my usual. (Quite Suggestive) To the COD readers I've attracted: I haven't played the games and reality is what I decide to make it (feel free to send asks educating me or info dumping <3)

Pairing: John Price x Gn!Reader

Too sweet

Baby, I can never tell How do you sleep so well?

”Morning Captain.” The words are practically a ritual, although you know he won’t respond. He never does this early in the morning.

There were a lot of unwritten rules in 141. When you first joined, you fucked them all up. Continuously. More often than not, it was Soap who laughed at you while Price patiently explained why you can’t joke about Ghost being afraid of snakes.

This rule, though, only took you a few days to catch onto. The “don’t talk about the sleepless nights” rule. Everyone knew why that rule existed; you’d seen enough combat to not be that naive. You’d been there enough to wake up before the sunrise, to watch the sky bleed orange.

And that’s exactly why you don’t ask Price about the circles under his eyes. If he’s not up doing paperwork, he’s up for other reasons. You don’t pity him; being Captain isn’t something you could ever do.

“Had a dream that Gaz found a goat and convinced you to make it the base pet.” You continue. His lips quirk up, gaze turning amused, so you soldier on. “Then it ate Ghost’s clothes, so he kicked it out of the base and Gaz quit the task force over it. And Soap claimed he could speak to it, but I called bullshit on him and he disappeared.”

”Disappeared to where?”

“Hell, maybe? That’s where he fucking belongs.” You smile at him, and his eye roll—you pretend it’s fond—seems like a victory of its own.

You’re too sweet for me You're too sweet for me

“No.”

The finality of his word rings clear, but you persist. You were never too good at stopping before you crossed that line, never too good at giving up while you were ahead. Things, more often than not, ended up right as rain.

“Price—“ You try.

“You’re too young, and it’s wrong.” Never before have you seen a man so tortured. It wasn’t a question of if he wanted you, it was a question if he would let himself want you. And you both knew it. “I won’t take your innocence from you.”

You scoff, following him down the hall and out of the briefing room. So much for staying after to help him gather papers.

“I’m a soldier, hardly innocent!”

“Compared to me, you are!” He turns, and you automatically look up to his eyes. As you said before: tortured. “I’m harsh, and we both know it. You deserve to be with someone soft, someone who can be sweet with you.”

“I don’t want to be.”

From the second you laid eyes on John Price, you knew you’d never want to be. It wasn’t his age, although you never minded an older man. It was his passion, his care, his leadership and skills and everything else about him. He was magnetic, drawing you in despite everything.

And you weren’t blind to the way his gaze always met yours in a room, either.

Price sighs heavily. “Go to bed, soldier.”

Tactful retreat it is, then. “Good night, Price.” You murmur, turning away.

A pause, then another sigh. This one is lighter. “Good night.”

I work late where I’m free from the phone And the job gets done But you worry some, I know

Knocking twice, you don’t wait for Price to respond before entering his office. His light was on, shining out a signal to anyone in the hallway that he was awake.

”You’re about to owe me.” You announce, ignoring his groan.

“I was working.”

“And now you’re going to eat dinner. I had to smuggle these from the dining hall, you know.” You drop the napkin bundle you had made on his desk, opening it to reveal the food. His and yours.

“I was going to get food later.”

“Liar.” You sit in the chair across from his desk, grabbing a bread roll. “No drinks, because even I can’t smuggle that out.”

“I could get you in trouble for this.” He points out.

“But you won’t. I’m your favorite.”

Price reaches forward, taking his bread roll. Mimicking you, although he never puts his pen down. The paperwork spread out in front of him is just like every other night you’ve brought him food.

“Who says you’re my favorite? Maybe it’s Ghost.” Price smiles, and you beam back at him.

“Don’t insult me like that. I’m proud of my title as your favorite. I mean, I am the only one that you let lounge in your office.”

“Tenuously.”

“Still.”

His attention turns back to filling out his paperwork, leaving you to sit there. Per usual. You stay until all the food is gone, leaving him with only crumbs on his desk to show for it.

Sweeping the napkin and crumbs into his desk, you pause by the doorframe. His hat obscures his face, but you know he’s aware that you’re still there.

“Get some sleep sometime tonight, yeah?” You hedge.

“I should be the one telling you that.”

“Someone gotta look after you, Price. Besides, I’m not the one who doesn’t go to bed before daylight.”

Knocking at the door to signal your exit, you head out.

You treat your mouth as if it’s heavens gate The rest of you like you’re the TSA

"Never have I ever... been a virgin." Soap says, raising his beer.

"That's not how it fucking works." You argue. "You were a virgin at some point, obviously."

"You know wha' I mean."

"Just pick something else." Ghost butts in gruffly.

This is why you prefer not to play drinking games with the task force. Soap always ends up fucking them up first, and then it manages to devolve into chaos. For an elite spec ops team, 141 sure did struggle at these games.

"Fine." Soap groans, taking a drink of his beer while he thinks.

"In the meantime, I'll go-" Gaz starts, but immediately gets cut off.

"Never have I ever been a virgin right now."

You stare at Soap. He stares back. "I'm going to beat your ass for targeting during training tomorrow." You threaten him, taking a sip of your wine. You're the only one drinking wine here, but you prefer the taste of it over beer or whatever the others are drinking.

As you tilt your glass back, your eyes lock with Price's. You're reclined on the floor with Soap while he's in a chair, giving you the perfect line of sight on each other. He watches with dark eyes as you swallow, tracing your figure with a gaze so heavy that it makes you shiver.

In his hand, his whiskey remains untouched.

"You just need to get laid and then you won't be such an easy target." Soap is saying, oblivious to the tension simmering between you and Price.

"Unlike you dumbasses, I'm don't want to sleep with the first moving thing I see." You don't look away from Price pointedly. "I prefer to wait for the right person."

Ghost makes a disinterested noise from the chair next to Price, making you flick your gaze to him. He inclines his head slightly, well-aware of the thing between you and Price, but doesn't say a word. Thank fuck for Ghost.

"I'm heading to the bathroom. Don't set the room on fire while I'm gone. Soap."

"God, I didn't do anything yet!"

"Yet."

"I'll go too." Price says lowly, his footsteps tailing yours. It's not until you're in the hallway and out of earshot from the others that he speaks to you. "You're a tease, doll."

"I'm aware." You turn to grin at him, but startle at his proximity. He steps forward and you take a matching one back, your back hitting the hallway wall.

"In front of everyone, too." He murmurs, boxing you in. Your heartbeat pounds loudly in your ears, but not from fear. You know what fear feels like, and it certainly isn't the warmth pooling in your gut. "Begging for it."

"You know I have been."

His head dips, and just for a moment the bitter taste of whiskey invades your tastebuds. Your eyes flutter shut as his tongue swipes across yours, and when you open them he's gone.

Point, you.

As soft as the rain Pretty as a vine As sweet as a grape

John Price was everywhere.

His hands on your hips, his bookshelf pressing against your back, his mouth on yours. Every inch of him invaded every inch of you, and you loved it.

As it turns out, all you had to do was get shot in the field. A graze made well worth it by this reaction.

“Don’t you ever pull that shit again.” Price says into your mouth, hands tight on your skin like you’ll disappear. You’d worry that they’d leave bruises, but you already know your love looking at the reminder of him.

“Or what?” You taunt when he pulls back for air.

“Or I’ll tie you to my fucking bed.”

The threat lights your blood on fire in a way it’s never done before. Want, roaring strong, sears through you.

“Truly a terrifying prospect, the guy I’ve been waiting to ask me out finally taking me to his bed—“

He smothers your laughter with his lips and tongue, hand coming up behind your head to protect it from the shelves. You tug at his hair, earned yourself a low addicting sound. Yeah, you need to hear that more. A lot more.

“What’d medical say?” Price asks, dipping his head to trail kisses along your neck. Because he had been waiting to ambush you the second you stepped into his office, you never got to tell him.

“Um.” You struggle to collect any rational thoughts as he nips at your neck, his beard and mustache scratching your skin. “They cleared me. Wrapped it and said I was good.”

“And what do you think I have to say about that?”

Trick question.

You groan, but it comes out less annoyed and more like something entirely different. He hums in response before you can even be embarrassed by the sound.

“I don’t want to run for training.” You complain.

“I think you’ve gotten enough things that you want from me.” As if to serve as an example, he presses a quick kiss to your lips before pulling back. Not too far: his hands on your hips ensure he’s still got a hold on you.

“…maybe.” You relent, staring up at him.

He smiles, reassuring, and you know this is going to stick. “Pretty thing.”

“I know you are.”

“I was talking about you, doll.”

And you knew he was, you were making a joke, but the way he says it has your cheeks flaming. He laughs, breath fanning over your hair, amused.

“Let’s grab food from the mess hall.” He suggests.

“You? Actually grabbing food? At a reasonable time?” It’s a goddamn miracle.

“Yeah yeah, don’t rub it in. Wipe that smile off your face.”

“Yes sir.” You don’t wipe the smile off your face.

“I had my tongue in your mouth, I think you can stop calling me sir. Or Captain, frankly.”

“What, you don’t like that stuff?”

His eyes widen briefly. “Oh, you little—“

#john price #captain john price #captain price #task force 141 #call of duty #captain price x reader #john price x reader #captain johnathan price #cod #tf 141 #john price cod #john price x you #john price call of duty

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naeverse · 6 months

Text

Helping Hands

🎖️staring: ColonelMiguel x Soldier Fem!Reader

🤎preview:

“It's because you are too quick to touch what you truly desire instead of building up to it.” He said matter-of-factly, his voice, gravelly and rough and making your stomach flutter.

“Just like shooting at the range, so quick to press that trigger, you haven't even perfected your form yet.” He smirked, placing his hands on either side of your head, trapping you under him.

“It seems you need more than just practice, Muñeca. Seems you need a lesson on self-control and discipline…”

🪖 summary:

You've been a part of Colonel Miguel O'Hara's team for a while now, but so far, you haven't made a good impression. It seems you can't do anything right without the assistance of your colonel by your side. Even though your COL is helpful, he's cold and stern, always making sure you know how much of a disappointment you are to your squad. You feel like a failure to your team, despite trying your hardest, and even more so to yourself due to your inability to satisfy your own sexual needs. But, just like with everything else…

Your Colonel is here to help.

🎖️ tw/cw: Big Dick Miguel, Breast Worship, Caught Masturbating, Clitoris Stimulation, Dirty Talk, Dominate, High Sensitivity, Public Sex, Shower Sex, Face Slapping, Size Difference, Spanking, Standing, Submissive, Rough, Unprotected, Wall sex, etc…

🤎 Pet names: Muñeca (Doll), Princesa (Princess), Chica (Girl)

🪖rating: 18+ explicit I SMUT I

🎖️Word Count: 10.8k

(I do not own any of the photos used! All credit goes to the original artist!)

“Cease fire!”

The bellowing voice of your Colonel, Miguel O'Hara, shouted across the shooting range. Your finger instantly froze upon the trigger of your pistol, turning to look at him through your protective shades.

Your Colonel studied the untouched target before shaking his head in disapproval. You heaved a sigh, lowering your weapon.

You, honestly, weren't that skilled in the force. You struggled in hand-to-hand combat, always ending up on your ass with a bruise somewhere on your body. Always slipped or hurt yourself when running through the elaborate obstacle course on base and took too long to disable a practice bomb which would have resulted in you and your team's death.

Many on your force don't know why your Colonel still hasn't dropped you, even you pondered the thought.

By your teammates, which were mostly men, you were given the name. ‘Slip-up.’ They always teased you, saying that if you couldn't do your part in the force, at least they had something to look at whilst they worked.

Their insults hurt and although you loved being a part of the team, you couldn't help feeling annoyed and frustrated all the time when it came to your abilities. You always tried your hardest but despite it, you still were, honestly,

Ass…

But, even though you already saw yourself as an utter failure, Colonel O'Hara always added more salt to the already gaping wound. He made sure you recognized every debacle you made, especially, right now with your inability to aim properly.

“Where’s your head at, soldier!?” He shouted, walking over to you, his beige shirt clinging to every muscle in his large torso. His hardened pecs, broad shoulders, and defined 6-pack accentuated under the cloth as he approached you.

You honestly didn’t know what your problem was, except that you’ve been here with Miguel since the crack of dawn and you still haven’t gotten a single shot on the damn target.

“My apologies, Colonel.” You hastily replied, causing him to scoff, crossing his arms over his chest. “Get your act together. You won’t be able to apologize if the enemy has already shot you dead.” He snapped, causing you to give him a nod.

He looked you over before sighing. “Get in position.” He commanded. You briskly followed his order, drawing up your weapon, bending your knees, and closed one eye.

“Do not fire.” He told you, his heavy footfalls beginning to move around you. Your heart was, oddly, beating rapidly in your chest. You didn’t know if it was due to the overwhelming anxiety, you always felt when you were under the stern Colonel's gaze, or the fact that he was so drop-dead gorgeous that you didn’t want to make yourself look like an even bigger fool than you already had.

“Your form is all wrong.” He commented, placing his large hands on your waist from behind. Your breath hitched, a deep blush covering your cheeks as he shifted your hips, turning it to the right. “You are too tense. Loosen up.” He whispered; his sharp cheekbone pressed into your cheek. His voice was deep and seemed to resonate through your entire being.

You could feel yourself heating up like an ignited furnace, shakily exhaling to calm yourself. You rolled your shoulders to relax in hopes of having better control of your planted feet in the dirt and your weapon in your hand, but it felt impossible with him being so close.

You gasped when you felt his combat boot abruptly kick your legs further apart, his hands tightening on your waist. “You need to widen your legs, and get your head in the game.” He said against your ear, loud enough to be heard through the heavy-duty headphones that adorned them.

His calloused fingers lingered on the fabric of your dark green, brown, and beige camo shirt before he pulled away, leaving his scorching touch imprinted on your hips. “Open your eyes, soldier. Do you think that is a telescope you are looking through? You chose the wrong profession then, kid." He teased with a deep chuckle, making you clench your jaw.

You opened both of your eyes, peering through your glasses at the target.

“Now, that you got your head out of your ass…” Colonel O'Hara muttered, standing beside you with his arms crossed.

“Fire!”

He commanded, your trigger finger going rampant as you fired repeatedly. The splitting sounds of the pistol were muffled due to your headphones, but still loud nonetheless. With every shot, your body recoiled back. Not enough to throw you off balance, but enough to send another burst of adrenaline through you that urged you to click the trigger again and again.

You continued firing until Colonel O'Hara's voice boomed across the yard.

“Cease fire!”

He yelled once more, your finger lifting off of the addicting trigger. You stood up from your position and watched your superior observe the damage you had made on the target. When he walked over to you, his bronze, chiseled face was so stern and devoid of emotion that you couldn't tell if you had made a shot or not.

“Good job, kid. You hit the board at least.” He said with a tight-lipped smile. It didn't seem like he was disappointed anymore.

‘Progress…?’

You pondered as you breathed a sigh of relief. Miguel observed your small being before him with stern eyes. "You did better today." He said, reaching over and taking the pistol from you. Compared to the weapon in his hands, he made it look like a mere plaything as he carried it with so much confidence.

“Now hit the showers. I expect you to be out in 20.” He ordered. You nodded, giving him a departed salute. You removed your shooting gear, placing them in their respective places by the range before hightailing it to the showers.

You didn't want Colonel O'Hara to call you back for anything.

You were so exhausted from shooting the same gun and staring at the black silhouetted targets that your vision was a little wonky.

You sighed, stepping into the locker room and walking over to yours. The locker rooms were gender mixed. Males and females showered together due to there, honestly, not being many women in your force. To save money, your base went the cheap way out and blended the two.

Colonel O'Hara had his respective team with you being a part of it. You could count on your fingers just how many females were in your force, making you feel a little out of place sometimes amongst the men, especially with their excessive teasing.

You undressed, placing your beige combat boots, camo shirt, pants, and undergarments into your locker and grabbing a towel to cover your nude body. Once you acquired all of your bathing essentials, you exited the lockers to enter the showers.

The showers were like cubicles. Each held a shower head plastered on the wall but with no curtains.

There were only three showers that had a curtain but those were always occupied, thankfully, the room was empty upon your entrance.

‘I can finally enjoy a peaceful shower.’

You thought, remembering all of the other times you used the shower room and how it was always filled with men, playing and bathing with each other in the nude as if everything was fine. You could never wrap your head around how comfortable they could be to shower beside one another and converse like normal.

You could never…

Always deciding to postpone your bathtime or endure it and shower in the farthest cubicle away from everyone, but even then you were still teased.

So with a huge grin, you happily drew back the curtain and stepped into the shower. You placed your bathroom items onto a small shelf and hung up the towel that was worn around your body before turning on the water.

You gasped, the water was always ice cold upon turning it on. You didn't know if to be thankful for the sudden rush of alertness or irritated by the amount of shivering you always did afterward. Nonetheless, when the temperature changed to be a perfect blend of warm and hot, you melted upon contact with the satisfying liquid.

You sighed, running your hands through your hair and feeling all your sore muscles from the long training with Colonel O’Hara, relax. You proceeded on cleaning yourself, filling your washcloth with your bodywash and beginning to wash up.

Whilst enjoying the heat and bathing yourself, you began to remember everything from this morning - the harsh training, the endless shouts from the stern Latino, and the frustration of not hitting that damn target came flooding in.

Before you could beat yourself up, you started to focus more on your Colonel than how much of an ass shooter you were.

How he carried himself with so much confidence, and always looked like his muscles packed pounds on his body, causing him to walk so heavily and wide. Being in the military, you've been with your force even at the worst of times. Experienced moments where you were starved, under extreme elements, and times where you had to go days without properly bathing or doing so at all.

You've seen Colonel O'Hara at his worst, and even then he made starving and reeking of musk look good.

It was also rare that you even saw him nude.

Colonel O'Hara was a male who hated to be caught with his pants down, literally.

He despised being seen as weak and vulnerable so during his time of bathing, he woke up at the crack of dawn to shower. You heard him one time, leaving his room, which was apart from the bunks, you and the normal soldiers resided in, to go to the shower room.

But the one time you've seen him fully was on a mission. One that the Colonel had selected you to participate in, himself.

During a long journey, everyone took turns to shower or take a quick bath in a river, waterfall, or whatever water source was nearby, your team would use to your disposal.

On this particular mission, a lake was the nearest form of bath system your team could use. You got paired to freshen up with the last group which happened, your Colonel joined at the last minute.

The man was ripped, you knew that. You can see it through any piece of clothing he wore, but surprisingly even his ass looked good.

You didn't think you were much of an ass girl until you caught sight of his when he was bathing in the lake that day. How his ass had the perfect mixture of muscular and plumpness was blasphemy, and to top it off, his back muscles seemed to flex and bulge with every movement he made. He was even packing in the front.

How his large, veiny hands ran the water over his body, his palms brushing over his pecs, abs, and biceps, and the look of pure concentration on his chiseled face made the scene even more hotter. His golden-brown body seemed to glisten despite the lack of proper cleaning the lake did for anyone's body that day.

It was a miracle no one saw you, it would have been embarrassing with how much ogling you were doing. You could hardly bathe yourself without sparing him occasional glances that left you certain when the gods sculpted your sexy Colonel, they were playing favorites.

He was perfect…

His honeyed body was sculpted with bulging muscles, sinewy limbs, taut abs and thighs, a few scars littered his being here and there, but even still, those scars intensified his attractiveness.

As you stood, washing off the soap studs that coated your body, just recalling the memories and thinking of how magnificent of a specimen your COL was, your core throbbed in desire.

You've secretly felt this way about your Colonel ever since you were assigned to him. How could you not when he traversed any land as if he owned it, whether it was on the battlefield or just walking to catch a meal at the base cafeteria.

When Colonel O'Hara was in the room, you, everyone, even the damn fly on the wall knew he was there. He just had that aura about him that demanded attention even though he was the type to strongly despise it.

The warm water continued to run down your body, washing away the soap that covered it. But it wasn't as hot as his touch that still was permanently burned into your sides, and you couldn't stop thinking about how right his hands felt on you…

His calloused fingertips pressed into your hips, his large hands engulfing your waist like you were a mere doll. If only the guy knew how much control he had over you, in the, not so, professional way.

Now, he even had you fingering yourself just by the mere thought of him. Your fingers thrusted up into your warm entrance, wishing it was his thick ones that were touching you. Your other hand found the shower wall, trying to stabilize yourself under the running water as you fingered yourself.

You moaned, eyes closed tightly whilst you chased that trembling ache, that pleasurable high that had been caused by that hunk of a giant down at the shooting range. You wiggled another finger inside, emitting a loud cry to burst from your chest.

But your two fingers weren't enough...

The only thing that could cure the burning longing in the pit of your stomach was the enormity in between that man's legs.

The massiveness that was off limits to you.

The forbidden meat that you couldn't taste…

You gritted your teeth in frustration, continuing to chase that high that you knew you couldn't ever reach. You didn't know how long you'd been in the shower, fingering yourself with the knowledge that you could never seem to get yourself to release.

You felt it once when you were with your first boyfriend but after you broke up and got into the military, nothing!

You feel the rush, the spasming, the addicting pleasure and trembling of your legs but that was it.

Not in a long time had you felt that satisfying crash of ecstasy. You’ve always got to the peak of it, but never could get over it, always leaving you sexually frustrated; but you try.

Goodness, you do try…

“Oh, fuck.” You whined, gripping the wall whilst thrusting your two fingers inside of your dripping pussy. The sensation felt so good, the feeling of being full, and that delicious friction with every penetration of your fingers made your eyes flutter.

You were so adamant about this being the day you made yourself climax that you didn't even hear the heavy footfalls on the tile flooring of the shower room.

You were too consumed by the pleasure and of that sexy view that was engraved in your mind of Miguel bathing in that lake. His massive, broad body, gorgeous ass, and enormous cock. How it wasn't even fully erect and it was big.

You imagined him here with you, his fingers being what was inside of you, feeling the stretch of his thick digits as he pounded them into you at such speeds that it was inhumane. How his cock would do even more damage, drilling into you until you saw stars and could barely remember your own name.

But you would be certain to know this.

He'll make sure of it.

Moaning and crying it out at the top of your lungs as he pounded into you mercilessly, dominating and controlling you like he did. Every. Single. Day.

“Oh yes. Fuck- Miguel!" You whined loudly, completely blinded by your erotic act that was being driven and led by your sexy Colonel.

You were so immersed in what you were doing, you didn't even notice when the curtains were drawn back.

You didn't know what had happened, just that the shower looked a little brighter than before, and the sudden rush of cool air on your bare backside made you shiver.

Completely dazed, you turned around to make eye contact with the Colonel himself.

His beige muscle shirt, camo cargo pants, and tan combat boots still adorning his massive frame. Even though he'd found you in the worst way possible, his face was emotionless, a still painting in a museum.

“I thought I told you to be out in 20.” He sternly said, his deep voice bouncing off the secluded shower room. Your bottom lip trembled, your hand instantly drawing away from your core. Your evident slick glistening on your fingers as you noticed his dark eyes shift to them and back to your face.

You didn't know what to say…

‘Sorry, I didn't come out sooner, Colonel. I was so busy fingering myself to the thought of you that I lost track of time.’

That's a one-way ticket straight to a Non-Judicial Punishment and no telling what your consequence would be.

So you just stood there, completely nude and with the shower running, still trying to make sense of what the hell was happening with your foggy brain.

Honestly, you were still stuck in la la land, seeing Miguel bathing in that lake and having a perfect view, not at all attentive to what was happening before you.

Your Colonel scoffed, looking you over. “Soldier! I asked you a fucking question!” He shouted, making you jump, and snapping you out of your trance.

Finally, you realized what the hell was happening.

‘Oh shit! Miguel, just caught me-

to him!'

You wanted nothing more than the walls to swallow you whole.

Your hands hastily turned off the shower and covered your sensitive areas, your cheeks a deep red. “O-Oh my gosh. I'm so sorry.” You said, about to go into a spurge of apologies when Miguel stopped you.

“I don't want to hear a fucking apology, I want to hear what the hell you were doing.” He declared angrily, his bushy eyebrows drawn low over his dark eyes. You gulped, quivering before him because you couldn't possibly tell him what you were doing.

You'll die from embarrassment…

“I-I can't-”

“Don't give me that bullshit, soldier.” He spat, stepping closer to you in the tiled cubicle. Your eyes widened as he cornered you to the wall.

“Tell me what you were doing.” He said through gritted teeth. He looked furious and that it made you scared beyond anything.

Of course, you've seen your Colonel angry, it was honestly his default setting, but directed towards you was a different story.

You gulped, your pupils trembling under his intense gaze.

“I-I was…t-touching myself.” You confessed with a blush, averting your gaze which only seemed to make him angrier. “You know how I feel about that. Eyes on me.” He sternly spat, as it took everything to meet his gaze once more.

His cold face and amber orbs held little to no sign of what his next reaction, response, or move would be.

It made everything even scarier.

“So you're telling me, you were in here for almost an hour and you still haven't released?”

He asked in a nonchalant tone as if he hadn't asked something so erotic. You gulped, your arms tightening around your body to hide your sensitive areas even more, your cheeks reddening even more.

“C-Colonel I-”

“Y/N.” He said your name so coldly that your entire body tensed up.

He hardly addressed you by name and when he did, you knew you fucked up.

“Answer the damn question. It's a simple yes Colonel or no Colonel.” He demanded, his large frame towering over you, making you feel so small. “N-No, Colonel. I-I haven't.” You admitted, biting your bottom lip anxiously. You probably spilled your guts here in this shower more than ever in your entire lifetime.

You felt like one of Colonel O'Hara's targets whom he strapped to a chair to interrogate, except he didn't even pull out a single weapon and you were already blabbering your deepest secrets to him.

How pathetic were you...?

After your confession, he just stood there looking down at you, your stomach clenching and your heart beating so loud in your chest, that you were certain he could hear it.

Until he smirked, looking you up and down. “Don't tell me you can't do that right either, soldier.” He teased, making your entire body burn up in embarrassment. “N-No, it's not like that.” You stammered, your hair completely soaked and your body dripping with water from your previous shower.

You just felt like you had to defend yourself in front of your Colonel. It felt like every time he was around, you couldn't do anything right. You were certain your COL had been taking notes on all of the things you couldn’t seem to do and you didn't want pleasing yourself to be added to the list.

“I-I just can't, okay.” You told him with a dejected sigh. He tilted his head, a deep chuckle rumbling from the depth of his chest. His eyes taking in your small form compared to his massiveness. “It's simply because you are too quick to touch what you truly desire instead of building up to it.” He merely said, his voice, gravelly and rough and making your stomach flutter.

“Just like shooting at the range, so quick to press the trigger, you haven't even perfected your form yet.” He smirked, placing his hands on either side of your head, trapping you under him.

“It seems you need more than just practice, Muñeca. Seems you need a lesson on self-control and discipline.” He whispered into your ear, his lips against your skin making you shudder.

You didn't know what he could mean. The only thing filling your brain was another round of harsh training of push-ups, pull-ups, and laps around the whole damn base.

A training so extreme you didn't know if you could even handle going through it, especially after the long, one-on-one training at the shooting range.

You wet your lips, gazing up at your COL's hardened, defined face. Even from this angle, which was usually an ugly one on others, he looked good.

“W-What do you mean?” You inquired, you knew better than to make an excuse or complain about your exhaustion.

Colonel O'Hara would work anyone overtime if you bitched.

He smirked, turning to draw the curtains back before meeting your perplexed gaze.

“I'm talking about a lesson of pleasure, Muñeca.”

Your eyes shot open, staring at him in utter shock.

This had to be a dream.

You were ready to hear the thunderous voices of one of the lieutenants anytime now, waking you and your fellow soldiers up from your deep slumbers to start your day of training and missions.

But either the lieutenants were sleeping in, or this moment was real.

Nonetheless, you were about to lose your shit.

“P-Pleasure?” You fumbled over your words, your backside already pressed against the wall. Miguel hummed, stepping closely up to you, sandwiching you between him and the white tiles.

You instantly lost the ability to breathe, not due to his enormous frame crushing you into the wall, but the fact you could feel every one of his defined chest muscles against your body through his shirt.

The hardness and solidity of them were enough to reawaken that desire in your core.

You bit your lip, his dark hair falling over his face whilst he loomed over you. “How long has this been happening, soldier?” He asked in the same stern tone as if he was demanding you to shoot another clip into a target. You gulped, peering up at him, trying to keep eye contact. “Since my last relationship, sir.”

“So before enlisting?” You gave him a curt nod. He hummed, looking you over before his dark eyes lingered upon your shield arms. “Stand up straight, hands at your side. You know the drill.” He spat harshly inside of the small cubicle shower.

Just his mere tone was enough to control and completely dominate you. Your arms shakingly moved from over your breasts to rest on your sides as you stood erect, the mere position changes thrusting your bare breast forward.

You bit your lip, hoping he didn't notice how perky and hard they were, but you should have been ashamed to think otherwise.

His gaze instantly was directed to your breasts, a smirk spreading across his tanned lips. “You turned on, Muñeca, or is your little body just cold?” He laughed, making you blush.

You hoped that was a rhetorical question because you didn't want to answer it.

His tanned hands left the wall to cup your bare breasts. The roughness of his palms on your supple flesh was enough to make you drip a puddle onto the tiled flooring.

You whined, wincing a little at how painfully hard and sensitive your tits were. He fondled them softly, testing the waters, but you couldn't help but squirm in his hold. “When was the last time you gave these babies attention, hmm?” He asked, squeezing the sensitive flesh in his hands and brushing his thumb along your nipples.

Honestly, you couldn't remember. You hardly paid attention to your chest when it came to pleasing yourself. Like your Colonel said, you just dove right into where you needed it the most, ignoring everything else.

“I-I can't remember.” You responded, causing him to click his tongue. “So impatient. Just like you and that gun.” He said, continuing to caress your highly sensitive breasts in his hands.

“But we are going to fix that, even if it takes all afternoon until the sun sets and when it rises in the morning of the next day.”

He whispered into your ear.

“You'll learn to be patient, chica.”

He spat before lowering to bring one of your swollen nipples to his mouth.

Pleasure like never before hit you like a freight train. His skilled tongue swirled around your hardened pebble, teasing and flicking it as you melted under his ministrations. His other hand worked in tandem with his sucking, rolling your other nipple with his thumb in time with his tongue.

You mewled and whined, grasping for anything when your hand found a railing. Your head fell back against the wall as he pleased your chest, his towering body bent over to suck at your breasts. Sloppily sucking and coating your pebbled flesh with his saliva with every taste like he was starved predator finally seizing its prey.

Your legs trembled, the feeling so familiar, as your eyes fluttered. Your grip on the metal bar tightening.

“C-Colonel.” You called out to him, your thighs coated with your essence.

You needed him, more of him.

He hummed in response, but not ceasing his suckles. Your face became flushed, your core, completely soakened and desiring to be filled.

Longing to be fondled by his skillful hands.

For him to play with your pussy like he handles his guns, so rough, yet attentive, and proficient.

“I-I want you to touch me, d-down there.” You said in a trembling voice.

He suddenly bit your sensitive nub, his teeth capturing your nipple, emitting a cry from you as he tugged away to look up at you. He shook his head, rising to his full height. Your eyes followed him, his figure looming over you once more. “Soldier, you haven't been listening to a thing I've said, have you?” He said in a gravelly tone, almost disappointed and a little angry. Your cheeks reddened, your lips quivering. “I-I'm sorry-”

Your words were cut off when his hands slammed onto the wall on either side of your head. The sound was deafening and your heart felt like it had jumped out your chest. He pressed his lips to your ear, his voice sinister and gut-wrenching.

"Rush me again and I won't hesitate to punish you." He snarled into your ear. His words sliced through the closed space, sharp and precise, leaving wounds that stung like the cut of a razor into your skin.

It terrified you and left your body a little shaken.

You felt his eyes, look you up and down, taking in your trembling form. "Now keep that little mouth of yours shut, unless you are addressed, soldier." He sternly said before pulling away.

Silence except for the thudding of your loud beating heart filled your cubicle. You weren't able to alleviate your quivering being, as the next words he uttered, shook you to your very core.

"Turn around.”

He commanded, making your eyes widen in shock and worry. You were stuck between desire and utter terror.

However, you followed his order.

You didn't want to anger him any further.

You turned around, shakingly placing your hands on the shower wall, your bare backside to him.

Your Colonel was a scary man, an even scarier one when he's on a mission; but you never thought even in the bedroom he could keep his same ominousness.

Your ears and sense of touch were on high alert. You felt colder than before whilst the incessant small drips of water from the showerhead were slowly driving you crazy.

The suspense was suffocating, to the point you were begging for something to happen, anything!

"You are so needy, chica."

He said from behind you, the sound of him unfastening his belt and zipper filling the shower after his words. Your heart skipped a beat, fingers flexing against the wall. You wanted so much to turn around and see the magnificence behind you, but you knew he would punish you if you did.

"And what did I tell you, hmm?" He urged, moving his cock into the gap between your thighs, brushing his length along your slick folds.

"Despite your...neediness, I need you to listen. To obey my commands, chica." He uttered, a sharp gasp escaping your lips when you felt his hands on your waist, his bare chest against your back, and his cock poking into the back of your thigh. You whimpered softly, your juices spilling down your legs.

You knew this was a trap. He wanted to see what you would do, now that his impressive cock was right where you wanted it most...

You moaned, gripping the wall, and trying to find your words. "T-To be p-patient." You said through breathy gasps. He hummed in agreement. "Good, soldier, and what did you do despite my command?" He asked into your ear, his lips brushing the lobe and making you shudder under him.

All you've ever wanted was him, making his demand for patience utterly impossible.

It was despicable how, in spite of your Colonel’s knowledge of your intense desire to feel his touch, his cock, his body against your own, he was ordering you to wait. You pressed your forehead into the shower wall, biting your lip and ignoring his question.

You didn't want to wait.

You couldn't, not with your body practically begging for him, and your arousal leaking onto his cock and down your thighs.

You shook your head, grinding onto his shaft that was nestled between your legs, failing his test horribly. With every gyrate of your hips, his mushroom head brushed into your clit over and over again. The feeling was so good and pleasurable it urged you to move your hips faster, chasing that sweet sensation.

Miguel's deep groan into your ear only made you quicken your pace until his deadly grip on your hips forced you to stop. "Fuck, Chica. You just can't seem to listen, can you?" He spat harshly into your ear. You whimpered, feeling him move his cock from between your thighs to press it along the curve of your ass. "I-I'm sorry."

"Stop with the fucking apologies." He growled, his hands lowering to grope your rear tightly, emitting a cry from your lips. "All you do is apologize but do the same damn things." He hissed, feeling his dark eyes look you over, a deep chuckle passing his lips. "You are practically shaking in my hands, but it's not from fear, is it, you little slut?

It was as if he had punched you right in the gut. You knew your Colonel was observant, from being alongside him from the one mission you were allowed to participate in. You remembered the usefulness of the skill, but you wished right now that he wasn't.

He was capturing everything and didn't hesitate to bring it out into the open.

Indeed, you were trembling and quivering under him. The desire and lust for him were overwhelming, and just his mere touch was causing you pleasure. "N-No. I-It's not...f-fear" You honestly replied, shamelessly lowering your head against the wall. He snickered, feeling his defined chest rumble against your bare back. "Shit, you want this so damn bad, don't you? Want my cock inside of you?" He inquired, only making your stomach tighten in want.

It was as if he had read your mind. Knew all your dirty thoughts. You bit your lip, unable to confess something so embarrassing.

A sudden harsh slap to your ass made you jolt and cry out in a mixture of ecstasy and agony. Miguel's large hand wrapped around your throat, pulling you flush against his hardened chest.

"Answer me, soldier." He said harshly into your ear, his hand giving your neck a warning squeeze, briefly cutting your oxygen before your lungs were filled once more. "You are aching to be fucked? Yes or no?" He asked through gritted teeth whilst you were gasping desperately for air. Your hands left the wall to grasp tightly around his massive wrist and forearm, his limbs looking so humongous in your hands.

Despite his roughness, this was all you've ever wanted. What you've desired. You found yourself frantically nodding, his hand still snug around your throat, fingers pressing into your neck. "Y-Yes." You panted, causing him to groan, the sound so very sexy in your ear.

"And yet, you are faced with a predicament aren't you, Chica? Believe you can't cum, is that right?" He asked in a teasing voice, your face reddening at his recollection of your embarrassing secret.

You nodded, his other hand leaving your waist to slap your ass once more. "With words."

"Yes!" You cried out, feeling him tug you back against him. "Isn't that a shame that you cannot handle it yourself? You want me to do it for you?" You bit your lip, squeezing your thighs tightly together. "T-That's...correct sir." You whispered, his hand around your waist beginning to explore your body, caressing your thighs, stomach, and hips.

He took your sensitive breast into his hand, tweaking the tender nub and groping the supple flesh roughly, drawing a wince and whine from your parted lips. "That makes you selfish." He sternly said, tightening his hold around your neck, even a little bit of his strength left you gasping for air. "We could get in a hell of a lot of trouble if we are caught and yet, you still crave me." He stated, reading you like an open book.

Were you that easy to read?

You thought you were careful with your attraction towards your superior. You made sure the only time you pleasured yourself to him was somewhere secluded and away from everyone, that when you were ogling at him, no one was watching. So how the hell was he doing this?

Unveiling all of your deep secrets without you even having to open your mouth.

It was bothering you so much…

You wet your lips, nodding slowly. "Y-Yes...I-I still do." You told him, his hand still enclosed around your throat and continuing his sensual play on your breasts with his other. "Y-You make it impossible not to, sir." You rasped, trying to keep your voice stable in his hold.

Silence filled the shower room after your confession leaving you nervous about whether he'll leave or not.

You did, technically, admit that the two of you could get into serious trouble if you continued, yet due to your blinding lust for him, you didn't care.

Even if you didn't, your Colonel could lose everything.

Does he think less of you now?

Did that make you even more of a slut in his eyes?

Your mind was swirling, trying to ponder what the hell was going to happen. However, the more you thought, the more your worries intensified.

Suddenly, a blur of movements occurred, everything happening so fast that you were unable to keep up.

Miguel spun you around, turning you to face him, sometime during the movement, he turned on the shower. The water cascaded down your bare beings and dripped off every sexy and tantalizing contour of both of your bodies.

Your eyes roamed his massive frame, finally seeing him fully. His coppery, scarred, and muscular body was in front of you, as everything about him was big. His shoulders, chest, arms, hands, and even his cock.

Your eyes shakingly looked down at the monster between his legs. The enormity you've been dreaming about and lusting for since you've become a part of his team.

You thought it was big when you saw it at the lake, a few feet away from you, but nothing could prepare you for how it'll look in front of you.

Like his enormous frame and towering height, his cock was impressively thick and long. The tawny, sensitive skin was covered in veins with a bulging one that ran down the underside of it. His tip was a flushed, angry brown, already dripping with pre-cum.

A patch of coarse dark brown hair, adorning the top of his well-endowed shaft, trailed an irresistible path up to his navel and hairy toned chest. Even though you've fantasized about his cock regularly, in reality, it was even more astonishing.

He stepped up to you under the water, his gaze predatory behind his dark hair that had become a drenched nest upon his head, wet chocolate strands sticking to his forehead. He took your throat into his large, calloused hand once again, your body welcoming the oddly pleasurable sensation.

"Widen your legs."

He said in a deep voice, his lips drawn down in his usual permanent scowl, regardless of his mood. Your heart leaped at the command, hastily widening your stance, your backside flush against the tiled wall. You shuddered as the steamy air of the shower graced your throbbing core.

His other hand fell down your stomach, tracing patterns as he went. You shakingly exhaled, his touch felt so foreign, yet satisfying all at once. "You are so desperate to cum, Muñeca, that you skip all of the delicious parts." He chuckled, returning to his lecturing. His hand occasionally squeezed around your throat, cutting off your oxygen, before bestowing you with the gratifying air once more.

Your eyes rolled, hands springing up to grab his massive forearm in your hands; although, your fingers couldn't enclose around the bulging limb. He teasingly trailed his other hand along your body, finding your sensitive breasts again, drawing a hiss from your lips. "So, tell me. How do you do it, hmm?" He asked, rolling the hardened pebble under his calloused thumb.

You moaned loudly, squirming in his hold. The sensations, a blend of pain and pleasure due to your heightened sensitivity, leaving you indecisive on the satisfaction of his touch. "H-How do I -gosh, do what?"

"Touch yourself. Where do you start?" He asked once more, his fingers continuing to tweak and fondle with your breasts. Your cheeks reddened, eyes opening to gaze up at him to see his serious and stern ones staring right back.

You didn't know why he enjoyed hearing you speak. He knew where you started, it was the sole reason he was here.

But with trembling lips, you responded to your COL. "D-Down there." You panted, bringing a smirk to his lips.

"So, I was correct. You don't know how to please yourself." He uttered, his hand moving from your throat, leaving behind his warmth and burning touch.

Your eyebrows furrowed at his words. You hated to hear that from him.

Something else that you couldn't do without need of assistance, and it was always his.

Whether it was shooting a gun, learning how to not trip over your own feet whilst running or discovering the weakness of your opponent in a fistfight.

He was always there, assisting you with your troubles but making sure you knew how much of a failure you were as he did.

But this was even more embarrassing than any of your other inabilities.

This was something you shouldn't need help with. You should be able to satisfy yourself on your own.

Why the hell did you depend on him so much?!

It was so damn frustrating...

"A-Apparently so." You whispered dejectedly, instantly gaining his attention. "Then let's fix that." He uttered, his hands moving up to caress your breasts, his touch gentle for the first time.

You sucked in a breath. "You want to start with these babies." He whispered, thumbs ghosting over your tender nipples. "Go slow, feel the sensations, and once you are ready." He gave them a sudden tug, pinching them harshly. You moaned loudly, back arching off of the wall.

A fire felt like it had sparked underneath your skin, a blinding sensation washing over you. Your eyes fluttered, looking up at him to see his cold eyes staring back.

He smirked, leaning towards you and placing an open mouth kiss on your shoulder. Your breath hitched. "The goal is to slow down. Enjoy the moment." He whispered into your skin, trailing more of his searing kisses along your collarbones, the water falling upon your bodies.

You wanted so much to touch him, to feel his musculature under your palms. But, honestly, even though you were practically dazed with pleasure,

You knew your place and his…

He sucked softly at your skin, licking up a trail of water droplets up to your neck. You moaned; the sensations so intense. He wrapped his lips around the pulse point of your neck, continuing his sucking, but keeping you unmarked.

You didn't know to be thankful or upset due to his cautiousness of sucking such pretty love bites onto your throat. It would had been wonderful to see them there, knowing it was from him.

A gasp escaped your lips when you felt his heavy cock against your abdomen, throbbing and twitching in desire. Your stomach coiled up in a delectable burn, a feeling that was a distant memory. Your moans came out breathy and airy, and your soppy entrance pulsated in want.

Miguel could feel it.

You were ready for more.

He gave your throat a final lap, before pulling away. His eyes stared at you, seeming a little darker than before. "Then…

You touch."

He whispered, his thick fingers trailing a teasing line down your stomach until finally, his two fingers found your bud of nerves.

You jolted, hands flinging up to grasp his biceps. You moaned at his touch and the feeling of how solid his muscles were. His fingers moved in a circular pace, swirling the saturated bud. You writhed and squirmed, bringing a smirk to his lips.

"Is this living up to your dirty thoughts, Muñeca?" He inquired with a chuckle. You blushed horribly, remembering your loud cries with his name included and how he probably heard. You frantically nodded, unable to speak.

His fingers were as skillful as you thought, fondling and caressing your bud and sending waves of tingles sprouting throughout your body.

Your legs trembled, your chest heaving whilst your breathing increased. He pressed a finger into your bud making you choke out a moan, nails piercing his biceps. He snickered, lifting your leg and exposing your pussy even more for his play.

He quickened his pace, his fingers rubbing your engorged clit at such high speeds you saw stars.

He hadn't even inserted a finger yet and you were already feeling that high approaching, that pleasurable crash that you always deemed impossible.

But you should have known he'll take you there…

And even further…

He widened your slick folds, replacing his fingers with his thumb, pressing the thick digit into your exposed clit, and inserting two fingers into your soppy entrance. His movement, becoming even more erratic inside of you.

You cried out loudly, looking down at his hand that was moving so fast against your clit and thrusting inside of you. You’ve never felt such speeds, unable to do so yourself, as the intensity of it was brutal. Your juices splashed everywhere, dripping onto the floor whilst he continued his assault.

Moans became stuck in your throat, your gut started to tighten, and your eyes rolled so fiercely you saw white. "Yes, chica, just like that." He growled. "Cum for me." He snarled, and you lost control.

Your limbs felt like jelly, thighs convulsing and pussy clenching around his fingers as you came in hot juicy spurts. Your arousal gushed out, spilling down your thighs and coating his hand. You shook uncontrollably, becoming a trembling leaf in his arms and unable to utter a word.

Miguel continued to please you through your orgasm, driving you over the limit and making you cream until you couldn't anymore.

"This what you wanted, chica?" He asked through growls, running his slick fingers along your wet folds upon your fading orgasm. You were highly sensitive, whimpering, and nodding frantically. "Yes, g-goodness, yes." You whined, practically on the verge of tears by the sheer intensity.

He laughed at your glossy eyes and flushed cheeks. Miguel smirked, looking at you. "Had enough?" He asked, dark eyes following you.

Honestly, you wanted to nod.

Just the thought of going through another burst of pleasure was exhausting, yet your core throbbed in desire for more of that addicting sensation.

"N-No...I-I can take more." You said through trembling lips. His smirk broadened across his tanned lips. The sight, breathtaking.

"That's what I like to hear, soldier." He said, drawing his hand from between your legs to take hold of your neck once more. You gasped, his thumb tracing patterns across the base of your throat. Your hands fell into place on his forearm, his entire body, mostly his chest, covered in a sensual tangle of dark brown hair.

His rugged look exciting you even more.

Upon coming down from your high, your numbness faded away allowing you to feel and become aware of your surroundings again. His hands were calloused against your throat and skin, rough after years of handwork and harsh labor. Even his manly scent of musk and sweat reawakened that desire inside the pit of your stomach.

Everything about your Colonel you adored, the burning wish deep inside that he would grace you with the feeling of his cock; because, at the moment, the longing to be fucked by him was the only thing on your mind.

Your COL, lowered your leg, running his palm along your thigh to grip your hip. "Want to be fucked by a real man, soldier?" He inquired with a wicked grin. "I doubt that ex of yours fucked you like I can." He uttered, his voice dripping with confidence, making your stomach flutter.

It seemed as if your COL secretly enjoyed hearing you confess to that erotic question. That burning and so very enticing inquiry.

He knew how much you wanted it.

How much you wanted him, yet this was his second time questioning your desires.

"Yes, I-I want you to fuck me." You uttered through trembling lips, gazing up at your massive Colonel. His dark eyes were cold but held a hint of amusement, peering down at you like a mere ant.

The shower was completely silent, except for the running water that dripped around your naked bodies. Time was the last thing on any of your minds as he gave you that rare smirk that ignited the butterflies in your belly, making them fly rampant.

He pressed his thumb into your throat, your breathing turning more into a wheeze. "Don't expect me to be gentle." He said gruffly, his other hand trailing down your body to rest on your rear, his rough palm squeezing your supple cheek. A strangled moan escaped your lips, your core throbbing at his warning and touch.

"I-I didn't want you to." You replied through gasps of air, his smirk broadening.

He didn’t utter a word, using his other hand to lift your leg, hoisting it up over his right shoulder. You gasped, turning to the side and resting both hands on the shower wall. Miguel smirked, grasping your leg and pulling you towards him. You whimpered, biting your lip at the heat and hardness of his cock brushing against your core.

“Remember, Soldier…” He whispered, moving his hand from your throat to take your hair into his tight grip. He yanked your head towards him, making you wince.

“You asked for this.”

He uttered sinisterly before a sharp delightful, yet painful sensation shot through your body. You choked on a moan, feeling his large tip sink inside of you. You held onto the wall for dear life, his grip around your leg dangerously constricting. “Fuck, you are tight.” He snarled into your ear.

Just his tip was inside and your walls felt like they were being stretched to the extreme, despite being soaking wet. You whimpered, burrowing your face into your inner elbow, as his cock throbbed inside of you with every clench of your walls.

“T-Too big, C-Colonel.” You said into your arm, your words muffled, but intelligible. He groaned, the sound resonating from the depths of his chest. "Mierda, you can take it.” He growled, his cock straining inside of your tight walls. You whined, the sensation of the extreme stretch of your walls was so strong that you could feel the tingles in your toes.

It was almost hard to stand…

"Relax, Princesa. Loosen up." He whispered into your ear. Although he uttered the same words from the shooting range, it sounded so much sexier coming from his lips, causing your stuffed entrance to quiver. He groaned, gradually sinking more of his cock inside of you upon your walls easing up. You choked out a moan, fingers flexing against the tiled walls.

"Now, take a deep breath." He rasped, his large hand completely enclosed around your ankle that rested on his right shoulder. You tried painstakingly to focus on your breathing until you found the capability to do so.

You inhaled through your nose and upon exhaling, he pushed the rest of his enormity into your tight walls; his tip pressing against your cervix. You screamed in shock and at the burst of pleasure and pain.

His cock was enormous resting snugly inside of your inners as he held your body tightly against his massive one. Every twitch of his shaft felt like it was in your throat whilst the coarse hair of his cock, brushed against your sensitive bud.

You moaned softly at the overwhelming sensations, tensing around him. Deep grunts passed his parted lips at every choke of his cock by your clenching walls. “Ay cono- you are squeezing me so good." He gasped, his eyes fluttering whilst you whimpered into your arm.

His hardened pecs rose and fell against your raised leg with every breath he took, the feeling only increasing the pleasurable sensations in your core.

Without warning, he slowly pulled out to his mushroom head and plunged back in with the force of a jackhammer, the impact, resonating. You cried out as he soon found a merciless pace inside of you.

With the first snaps of his hips, it instantly took your breath away and made your brain mush. The thrusts that followed were a blur. Your eyes rolled uncontrollably whilst he fucked you senselessly.

You couldn't scream, moan, or cry, every thrust stole your breath away like it wasn't yours to begin with. Your Colonel took you again and again, never ceasing his pace and you were slowly losing your mind with every slam of his cock into your pussy.

“Still believe you can't cum?" He grunted into your ear, hoisting your leg up higher and widening them. You silently moaned, the blood rushing to your ears causing his dirty question to be left unanswered as his cock burrowed deeper inside of you with each snap of his hips.

You pulled away from your arm, drunkenly looking down at the magnificent sight of his cock rapidly thrusting into you. His tanned shaft moved so fast that it was a blur.

You still couldn’t believe this was happening, looking up at your Colonel with a desire to see his face and engrave this surreal moment into your brain.

His dark eyes, blown with lust, met yours, his tanned lips parted while he rutted into you with all his might. His balls smacked into your thigh with every thrust, causing the most pornographic flesh-slapping sounds to fill the tiled cubicle. The water from the shower splashed off your Colonel’s back to pool at your feet, but your eyes stayed trained on Miguel despite the shower blinding your vision.

Your stomach began to burn unbearingly, like a ball of tangled yarn tightening with each passing moment. You couldn’t think, only focusing on the blinding pleasure that was bringing you closer and closer to that blissful end. “C-Colonel…” You were only able to whimper through the overwhelming ecstasy.

“Have to cum, soldier?” He inquired causing you frantically nodded. He chuckled, increasing his pace and snaking his other hand to your front, rubbing frantic circles onto your clit. You screamed out and instantly became undone in his burly arms.

Your eyes rolled back, convulsing harshly in his arms as your release came crashing into you like a tidal wave. Your pussy fluttered around his cock, clenching him tightly and earning a sexy groan from Miguel into your ear. “Fuck- There we go.” He whispered, continuing to fuck you through your orgasm.

The sensations were blinding and so good. It left you wanting more of the forgotten feeling.

Your legs trembled horribly, leaving you unable to hold yourself up; but it was as if your COL knew you and your body, although this being the first time he’d ever touched you.

He hastily pulled out and lowered your leg from his shoulder, making you gasp. He chuckled, leaving you to balance on your jelly legs. "Tired yet?” He inquired. “Knowing a little thing like you, I don’t think you can handle another round.” He taunted, giving you that teasing glare of his.

The look he gave you when the other members of your squad were around.

Challenging you to push your limits, to not look weak, and most of all…

To not disappoint him…

You hated that look because it was a complete and utter mindfuck.

And every single time…

He got you.

You hastily shook your head, resting against the wall to stabilize yourself. “No, sir. I-I’m fine.” You breathlessly replied.

His smirk broadened, as like always, you’ve run right into his trap. “Good.” He uttered, suddenly, hoisting you up and pressing your backside against the wall. His large hands rested underneath your thighs and effortlessly held you up.

You gasped at the abrupt action, wrapping your legs around his waist and resting your hands on his scarred and coarse-haired chest. You met his piercing gaze, his usual confidence, dripping from his very being.

“I’m just getting started with you, soldier.”

He said, not giving you time to react before pushing his length back inside of you. You instantly cried out, your arms flinging around his thick neck. He groaned, his one hand pressing into the wall, his fingers digging into your thigh. "Fuck, you feel good.” He growled, soon finding a relentless pace once again.

With every drive of his hips, your backside slammed into the wall, leaving you certain your back would be bruised later. Your eyes rolled over and over again, his cock continuously touching deep inside of you, making your toes curl so much that it hurt.

He handled your body like a ragdoll, pounding his enormous shaft into you whilst holding you in his arms like you weighed absolutely nothing. The water continued to cascade down your bodies, now completely cold, but neither of you could feel a thing; too blinded with pleasure and of each other.

He took your jaw in his hand, turning your face to look at him. Your eyes fluttered horribly, his thrusting never ceasing. "Tell me this soldier.” He said through grunts, “Do you always moan my name when you please yourself?” He uttered and even during your fucked-out state, your flushed face turned a deep red in embarrassment.

His words clarified his presence during your failed pleasure session.

You didn’t know to be ashamed of him, your Colonel, overhearing you in such a state, or thankful, since now he was bestowing upon you the pleasure your body had been craving. Nonetheless, you tried to find the words in your scrambled brain to respond.

“Y-Yes.” You truthfully stammered. “I-I’m sorry.” You added, your reddened cheeks intensifying as he continued to move inside of you.

A breathtaking grunt that sounded like a snicker passed his lips, his amber eyes staring into yours. “What did I tell you about apologizing, hmm?” He inquired, his cock and words only causing the pit of your stomach to tighten once again.

“T-that you don’t w-want to hear them.”

“Correct, Princesa.” He replied, his eyes roaming your face, before sternness washed over his facial features.

"Let me hear it again."

He snarled, making your heart drop. His tone was the same when he was training you on the field, or barking orders to the rest of your squad. His gravelly, rough tone was rooted into your mind and shook you to your very core.

Suddenly, you felt sober and alert for the first time since he touched you.

“W-What!?” You exclaimed in shock. He scoffed, pressing you against the wall, leveraging you, and continuing his inhumane pace. "You heard me.

Say my name, soldier."

He groaned, the water from the showerhead continuing to spill down onto the two of you, blinding your already glazed sight.

You instantly couldn’t speak. Every plunge of his cock inside of your soppy pussy snatched the words from your lips and left your mind a complete mess once again. At your speechlessness, he abruptly slapped you, a sizzling sting filling your left cheek. Your face snapped to the right, a loud broken moan erupting from your throat.

You instantly became alert, your vision still a little hazy as he gripped your rosy cheeks in his hand, turning to face him.

"Fucking say it!"

He demanded, your stomach coiling at the desperate grunts that he was trying to keep hidden behind his gritted teeth.

"M-Miguel- fuck." You were finally able to muster. Saliva that was unable to be swallowed began to drip down the corners of your mouth and behind his clamped hand.

The sexy vein in his forehead started to bulge, his abs clenching against your stomach. "Hmm, say it again."

"M-Miguel! Mmm, Miguel, p-please!" You cried out. You didn’t know what you were pleading for, the reasoning completely unknown. The only thing clear in your fogged mind was your desire for him.

More of him.

Your words seemed to turn him on even more, a hot groan falling from his parted lips, his pace increasing. “Such a good girl for me, soldier.” He gasped, his hips snapping into you at such erratic and unwavering speeds, despite the duration of fucking he'd been doing into you. "Mmm, you are such a good little soldier for me.” He babbled, his fingers pressing into your face whilst your eyes rolled uncontrollably.

Your walls fluttered around his cock, contracting and gripping him tightly. For the first time since his assault on your pussy, his hips faltered, a curse spilling from his lips. "Mierda- I'm close." He rasped, yet, you couldn't take it anymore.

Shockwaves engulfed your body, overwhelming and suffocating you in its electrified grip. Your back arched against the wall, whining and rambling through tears. "I'm cumming. 'm cumming." You sobbed, his cock attacking your G-spot one final time as you squirted in lengthy bursts.

The feeling was something you never felt before. It was different from when you came the first time with his mere fingers and the second on his cock.

Your eyes blurred, your mouth falling slack whilst tears spilled down your cheeks. Your essence sprayed onto him, coating his cock, abs, and thighs with your juices.

He cursed, moving his hand from your face to wrap his burly arms around your body. "Shit, Princesa, you are cumming so well for me." He growled. "I should reward you, shouldn't I?" He inquired breathlessly, a smirk spreading across his bronze, chiseled face.

You didn't need to answer, not like you could anyway, because it seemed your Colonel knew it already.

You were thankful for the implant that was placed into your arm upon enlisting as you knew exactly what your COL was planning.

He took your legs into his hands, placing them onto his broad shoulders, and pressed your backside into the wall. You tighten your grip around his neck, trying to prepare yourself, but it was useless.

Like a jackhammer, he hungrily plowed into you. You silently screamed, his cock rapidly disappearing in and out of your pussy. "Oh yes- going to fill you up so well, little soldier." He breathlessly groaned, his cock effortlessly pressing into your G-spot over and over again.

You were so sensitive, trembling and shaking in his arms. You sobbed at the intensity until your walls gripped him one final time.

"Ay, coño!" He exclaimed, in a low, guttural groan before spilling his seed inside of you. Your eyes rolled, his warm essence coating your walls and filling you up, just like he promised.

Your face scrunched up in pure ecstasy at the mind-numbing sensation, causing you to meet your peak once again. You trembled in his tight hold, eyes rolling whilst your release poured down your legs.

His load seemed to be endless as he emptied himself inside of you until the very last drop. He let out a shaky moan, burrowing the bridge of his nose into the crook of your neck and holding you against the wall.

The both of you caught your breath, his cock softening inside of your stuffed walls. The shower smelled strongly of sex and sweat. The icy cold water continuing to rain down upon your bodies, your beings finally recognizing the chilliness, but too tired to do anything about it.

When the two of you had finally gotten your strength, your Colonel lifted you from his shaft and onto the floor. His cum instantly began to spill down your trembling legs, the feeling making you tingle all over.

To stabilize you, his large, calloused hands were glued to your hips, just like they were at the shooting range.

Feeling just right, and as if they belonged there.

"Hope you learned something today, Soldier." He uttered, his voice taking on his usual commanding tone. You thickly gulped, looking up at the massive male with half-hooded eyes.

You weakly nodded. "Y-Yes...I have, Colonel." You whispered, bringing a tight-lipped smile to his lips.

"I'm glad to hear that." He said, pulling away from you and drawing the curtains back. Your warm body was instantly graced with a chilled breeze at his action, making you shudder.

The shower room was, thankfully, still vacant as his pile of clothes and boots were sitting just outside of the cubicle.

Before his large frame left you to clean up, he looked over his broad shoulder, his dark eyes on you. "I don't want you pleasing yourself anymore, soldier." He simply said, his words surprising you and making your stomach flutter.

"M-May I ask...why?" You hesitantly asked, still out of breath from the heated sex the two of you shared. He licked his lips, turning to you fully in the doorway of your shower cubicle, his eyes looking you up and down.

"Why, that pussy of yours has my name on it." He replied, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms over his large chest. “I’m the only one that gets to pleasure you.” He chuckled, looking you up and down. “Also because…

I’m the only one who can.”

He stated, his eyes glued to every part of you. You couldn’t believe what he’d just said, staring at him in utter shock.

A small smirk spread across his lips at your stunned expression. "Now pick your mouth off the floor and get your ass out here in 20." He said in his usual stern voice, holding a bit of amusement. "Take any longer, and I won't hesitate to come back and drill that order into your head until you understand. Got it, soldier?"

You bit your lip, cheeks turning a rosy red as you nodded. He pushed off the wall, simply picking up his clothes and walking towards the lockers.

You took in the last of his gorgeous ass, muscular backside, towering height, and confident stride as he disappeared around the corner and into the locker room.

You were still unable to believe that you, the forces' slip-up, were allowed to get a taste of that hunk of a man; and was able to climax so many times with him, despite the numerous times you tried and failed on your own.

You grinned, a deep blush staining your cheeks whilst pulling the curtains closed. You turned back towards the cold shower, rotating the knob to the right in hopes of there still being warm water left.

Upon waiting, you couldn't resist recalling everything from that state of pure bliss that you just shared with your Colonel.

The moment, honestly, one of your sex dreams come to life.

Just thinking about it, made your leaking entrance throb to life once more.

Even as you stood under the water, muscles spent and core still dripping with his cum, an erotic thought filled your mind…

'Maybe showering a little longer than 20 minutes wouldn't be so bad...'

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed 'Helping Hands.' Make sure to like, comment, follow, and reblog! Love you guys!

Also my request box is open, if anyone is interested!!

<3 Taglist:

@oscarissac2099 @powerful-niya @szapizzapanda @mcmiracles @mreowmoreww @thedevax @jadeloverxd @lazyotakuofficial @migueloharacumslut @nattywattyy @homewreckingwreck @kinkybandages

#miguel o'hara #spider man 2099 #across the spiderverse #the blue panther #miguel ohara #miguel #miguel smut #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel x fem!reader #miguel o hara #miguel x reader #miguel x y/n #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel x you #miguel x reader smut #astv miguel #Colonel Miguel

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guacemolyarts · 19 days

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please please tell me how u perceive ellabs 😭😭😭 from a shipping standpoint😭😭 also i love ur art so much

Abby has always been number one. From being Jerrys daughter, to becoming the WLFs top Scar killer, to leading her entire friend group into a murder plot with her, etc. Abby has always been the one to take the lead and do whatever she wants by her own command because she has never not gotten what she’s wanted. When that attitude got the best of her in the end (her friends turning on her, realizing what they had participated in was fucked up, etc.) she became prideful and cowardly. Lev was able to reinvent that attitude with her by giving her a purpose to protect and love someone more than herself. Lev let her have a break for once, gave her a chance to have her guard down, and not always have to feel stoic. She stood up to the only person who could crumble her *just* a bit (Isaac) and Ellie, who unknowingly had been leading her down a death trap. Even when figuring that out, Abby never backed down, Abby still got the upper hand, Abby still had what Ellie wanted- someone to care about her and her life.

Now Ellie on the other hand? Ellie has NEVER had it easy. Grew up an orphan, was a bit of a loner without Riley, was regarded as a “sad kid” by Winston, the only adult who ever really gave her the time of day. This girl has been searching for love and support her entire life. Despite her bratty attitude and hotheaded tendencies, no matter what, shes always a softie. And when she gets fixated on anything, it becomes her purpose and the force that pushes through whatever situation shes in- on a lighter note, Savage Starlight quotes, on a darker note, Abby. Ellie finds strength in just *doing*. She doesn’t need to force anyone to abide by her order (unless you wanna argue Nora, but even then, what a sloppy attempt at getting her way). She steam rolls any situation she thinks is gonna get her to her goal (jumping off the bridge into the water with Joel, the entirety of Seattle Day 2 and 3, becoming a deadbeat).

And together? You get two women who come from remarkably different upbringing’s and backgrounds, who in the end, crave to care for and to be cared about. Abby who has the explicit need to put herself in any dangerous position, knowing she can get out of it unscathed, with the entire goal of making sure what she cares about makes it through safely. Ellie, who has only ever fought through survival, to not have to do it anymore. Who can just feel protected and at peace. Abby, who is meticulous in her planning and execution, Ellie, rough around the edges and will figure it out when she gets there.

Despite how opposite they are in those regards, they are similar in their unifying need to find inner peace and strive to do their best. Both of them are incredibly strong people- and together, in any dynamic and in any situation they must get through together, I perceive Abby to be the one who is more level-headed, less inclined to blindly walk into Ellies fire, and to take the reigns in any struggle they get themselves in. To guide Ellie down the smarter, albeit longer path, and for Ellie to complain and annoy her to every end because she thinks being safer is worse than being in a rush. Ellie, the tough, agile little moth who learned everything on her own and by Joels hand, who can cut through 7 men at a time and is quick on her fight or flight. Abby, the trained in combat ex-soldier who can wipe out any path she needs to get through just by one intimidating scowl.

This is an interpretation based on canon, i could talk in circled about them for hours. So heres a little tidbit of what i perceive them as as individuals but how those traits work together.

#ellabs #ellie/abby #ellie x abby #ellie williams #abby anderson #tlou 2 #the last of us part 2 #tlou

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 3 months

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hello! since requests are open, i was wondering if i could request a fem reader that’s kind of like a mother figure to law? she knew law when he was a kid and cared for him and was also there when corazon was taking care of law as well and helping him. she’s a part of the heart pirates and also has a devil fruit power or some kind of other power but im not too sure on what yet. 😅 sorry this is kind of long and complicated. if you wish to not do this then that’s okay! thank you for taking the request if you do! 😊

-You were there the night Corazon had been killed, watching the man you love be so coldly murdered by his big brother, allowing himself to be captured and killed so you and Law could flee to safety.

-You and Corazon weren’t married, but you could have easily been, based on how close the two of you were, and when Law came into the mix, Corazon couldn’t help but smile, seeing you hugging and doting on Law like he was your own child.

-You went with the two when they left the Donquixote Family, seeking out a cute for Law.

-You hadn’t anticipated it ending badly, with you hugging Law close as the two of you were taken away secretly, both of you watching Corazon die.

-You remained by Law’s side, even as he grew and became a pirate and a warlord himself, you were the one thing that remained constant in his life, you were his rock, the most precious person in his life, his mother.

-He would never call you by that title, something he struggled to do, but that’s how he thought of you, as you would always holding him and allow himself to be weak around you, because he knew that you would keep him safe.

-You didn’t mind, as you did the same, despite you adoring and loving Law like your own child, you never called him as such, having that same respect for him that he has for you.

-You were definitely the ‘mother’ of the crew, as you would dote on all members, not just Law, something Law would childishly pout over at times, which you did think was rather cute, but he enjoyed seeing his crew all adoring you as well.

-Law was scared to lose you as well, so for a while he forbade you from fighting, not wanting to take that chance, but as he grew, he realized that this wasn’t fair to you, and when you joined a battle for the first time, you quickly proved that you were not to be underestimated with your Copy-Copy Devil Fruit ability, being able to copy any other Devil Fruit user’s ability for a short while, plus with your combat skills, you were a very dangerous person.

-You supported Law with his plan to take out Doflamingo, even if it took years to do, as you were the only person that he told this plan to, as he trusted you, and while he had to be on his own, you were in charge, keeping the others safe.

-When you got wind that Law and Luffy took down Doflamingo, you were stunned, completely shocked, but you couldn’t help but smile, “He did it my love.”

-When Law arrived at Zou, Bepo and the others were the first to get to Law, hugging him, embarrassing him in front of the Straw Hats and the Minks, not wanting to lose his tough guy image, which was rather cute.

-When he saw you, however, waiting your turn, many couldn’t help but smile as he immediately ran over, leaping into your arms as you hugged him tightly, praising him for what he had done. Law refuses to admit that he had been crying while hugging you, saying it wasn’t true, but you knew the truth.

-It was rather cute, when you got to meet Luffy and the other Straw Hats, Law wanted to keep you away from them, especially when both Brook and Sanji tried to hit on you, as he threatened them. However, the one he wanted to keep you away from the most was Luffy, but by the time he was done dealing with Brook and Sanji, Law collapsed to his hands and knees, seeing you hugging and doting on Luffy as well.

-Law was a little extra pouty for a few days, as he hated sharing you, especially with Luffy, but you thought it was rather cute, seeing him so jealous. You made sure to give him extra attention that evening, to assure him that you weren’t leaving him.

-For a while, every time Law would see Luffy he would glare at the rubber man, he wasn’t sharing his mama with anyone!

#one piece #tralfagar law #luffy #sanji #brook

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wombywoo · 23 days

Note

Hi! I'm loving learning about your boys!

I'd like to know more about what they do and how their paths cross in the military.

I think you said Vicent acts as a abhuman consultant for the military now. Does that mean he doesn't put one foot onto the field for missions, just kind of on-base intelligence work? Or does he tag along with Quinn's unit on the ground?

Thank you! I've really been enjoying sharing stuff about them😚

Further lore below: So basically--this is a very new highly experimental taskforce in a new highly experimental branch of the UK military called 'Nonstandard Ops' (as vague and uncritical a name as any 😅) Their main purpose is to combat supernatural and other such threats in light of some major world changes currently happening. Quinn had previously been convalescing from a field injury (as well as dealing with the fallout of his best mate being discharged due to an even graver injury) when his old CO approaches him with an offer to join her new squad. His... unmentionable abilities make him an asset, and his CO has vouched for him before even in spite of a somewhat dubious track record. And guess who's also on the taskforce? Vincent. In a controversial turn of events, they're now allowing vampires to serve in the military. This is met with...varying degrees of support amongst their nascent group. Quinn himself is not immediately accepting. Vincent, being a veteran, is entitled to his credentials and rank, though he requires further training to keep up with advances in modern warfare. Essentially, he's taken on as an expert in neutralizing this brand new type of enemy, with all of his attained knowledge and special skills. So yes, he does go into the field with them on most missions! I like to think this beginning period is a bit enemies-to-lovers, in that Quinn has to overcome some of his grievances, but despite a rocky start on a few of the early missions, they quickly develop a rhythm with each other in the field. And then maybe....something more.....🙆‍♀️

#asks #quinncent #see look! there is maybe a plot here!#lord knows if I can actually sort it out...

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on-my-vigilante-sht · 1 year

Text

Capitol Punishment XII

Haymitch x Reader

Summary: The Capitol continues to torture it’s victors no matter how long ago they won through punishment, exploitation, and worst of all; their relationships.

A story in which Haymitch’s lover is a plaything for the Capitol.

Warnings: Canon level violence, rape, alcohol, murder, systemic poverty, exploitation, rebellion (?), more reliance on movie than book, suicidal thoughts, swearing, illness, pregnancy, miscarriage, torture, sexual torture, medical stuff

Word Count: 3.4K

Part XI | Masterlist | Part XIII

It had been six weeks since they escaped the arena, five since Haymitch had seen that godforsaken video of you and that man. According to Beetee more have come in but he destroyed them immediately. Haymitch wasn’t sure how many had come in but he suspected Snow was making a lot of money from you.

But despite his constant worry for you he continued to do is duties in 13. Mostly because he didn’t want to be sent back to rehab. So he sat in on meetings to help with battle and propaganda plans. But when he was called into a secret meeting with only Coin, Plutarch, Boggs, Gale, and a few other special forces he was elated.

“We’re here to discuss the rescue of the victors,” Coin began. Haymitch was the most excited he had been since he arrived in this cultish hell hole. Not every soldier held the same feelings though.

“Why?” one asked, silencing the others. “Are you actually suggesting we put soldiers’ lives on the line so some people can get their girlfriend or boyfriend back?” he scoffed. As much as Haymitch wanted to punch the guy, he had a point.

“It’s more than that. The Mockingjay has demanded Peeta’s and the other victors’ rescue and the Mockingjay is necessary for this rebellion,” Coin explained. “However, this is a volunteer only mission. I won’t forcefully send any of you into the heart of the Capitol.”

“I’ll do it,” Gale immediately volunteered.

“So will I,” Haymitch spoke.

“That’s very generous, Haymitch,” Plutarch began, “but according to our medical files you’re not fit for combat.”

“And I won’t send civilians in on a special forces mission,” Coin added.

“But this is volunteer based,” Haymitch pressed, “and I don’t see any other volunteers.”

“I’ll go,” Boggs volunteered. Four more soldiers followed suit.

“Thank you for your sacrifice and bravery,” Coin said, not unlike a robot.

“We ship out first thing in the morning, the plan will be relayed to those going tonight. Not a word of this to anyone else, especially Katniss, got it?” Boggs ordered. Everyone in the room uttered agreements as they filed out.

As Haymitch began to shuffle out, Gale caught up with him. “Thanks for volunteering,” he said. “Katniss was telling me how you struggle being sober.” Haymitch took slight offense to that comment but didn’t let it show. Everyone treated him as some sickly old man, hell he was only 41. Granted he had drank most of his liver away and going cold turkey had been hard on his body at first but he was getting better.

Haymitch took a deep sigh. Being sober had somehow lowered his inhibitions and he found himself being more honest more often with people even if he didn’t really want to. Besides, Katniss hated him for letting Peeta be taken, Finnick was a mess, and he wasn’t remotely close with anyone else in 12, Gale was the closest thing he had to a friend aside from Effie who was stewing in her dorm, angry she couldn’t wear Capitol luxuries anymore. “I just— after seeing her in the interviews and what the Capitol’s doing to her— I just wanted to be the one to save her. I wasn’t able to save her from Snow for the past 8 years but I wanted to pull her from his clutches for the final time.”

Gale nodded, sighing deeply. “I’ll get her out. I’ll tell her you volunteered for the mission and that you’re waiting here for her, right at the hangar doors.”

“Thanks,” Haymitch smiled. “Can I ask, how come you’re going? Thought you were in love with Katniss and hated Peeta’s guts.”

Gale’s sigh turned exasperated. “She’s not happy. Not with Peeta in the Capitol. I just wanna make her happy.”

“Well good luck.”

Haymitch stood in the control room anxiously along with Katniss, Finnick, Beetee, and Plutarch. District 5 had just brought down the dam, cutting power in the Capitol, shutting down their defenses. Allowing Beetee to go in and wreak all kinds of havoc to keep them unaware of the airship about to enter the Capitol’s airspace. As they approached, Cressida entered the room. “Finnick? Haymitch? Can you come with me?”

“What for?” Haymitch immediately asked, not wanting to miss your rescue.

“I asked her to film some propo,” Beetee filled in, “keep their broadcasts clogged.”

Haymitch hesitated but Finnick seized the opportunity to help. “Okay,” he agreed, stepping out with Cressida. Wanting to not feel useless anymore, Haymitch followed the pair outside. Haymitch reveled in being above ground for the first time in six weeks. It was nice to breathe fresh air despite being surrounded by rubble and sinister white roses. Cressida directed them to the center of the rubble, lights pointed at them. “Okay, just take your time and don’t stop talking,” she instructed.

She held up her fingers, counting down from three before pointing one at the two victors, directing them to begin. Haymitch was admittedly not super comfortable in front of a camera so he let Finnick take the lead. “This is Finnick Odair, winner of the 65th Hunger Games.” He then paused.

“And I’m Haymitch Abernathy, winner of the 50th Hunger Games.”

“And we’re coming to you from District 13, alive and well. We’ve survived an assault from the Capitol but we’re not here to give you recent news. We’re here to tell the truth. Not the myths about winning the life of luxury or about gaining glory for your homeland.”

“The moment you leave that arena, you’re a slave,” Haymitch explained. “I won my games in a way I wasn’t supposed to and Snow slaughtered my family for it. But some punishments, whether earned or not, can last for years. It’s what happened to Finnick here, and my wife, Y/N L/N-Abernathy.”

“President Snow used to sell me and Y/N, or our bodies at least. We weren’t the only ones. If a Victor is considered desirable, the President gives them as a reward or allows people to buy them. If you refuse, he kills someone you love.”

“For seven years Y/N was ripped out of our bed in the middle of the night. Whether we were in the Capitol or in 12 they always came looking for her, never gave her a second to herself. And when she did return, I’d always find her battered and bruised. Usually in the same clothing she left in torn up into rags.”

“Now, to make themselves feel better, my patrons would make presents of money or jewelry. But I found a much more valuable form of payment. Secrets. See, I know all the depravity, the deceit and the cruelty of the Capitol's pampered elite. But the biggest secrets are about our good President, Coriolanus Snow. Such a young man when he rose to power. Such a clever one to keep it. How, you may ask, did he do it? One word. Poison. He stopped every mutiny before it even started. There are so many mysterious deaths to adversaries. Even to allies who were threats. Snow would drink from the same cup, to deflect suspicion. But antidotes don't always work, which is why he wears roses that reek of perfume. Help cover the scent of blood from sores in his mouth that will never heal. But he can't hide the scent of who he really is. He kills without mercy. He rules with deception and fear. His weapon of choice is the only thing suited to such a man. Poison. The perfect weapon for a snake.” Just as Finnick was about to continued Cressida stopped him.

“Wait,” she held a hand to her ear piece. “Beetee said they lost connection. The Capitol’s defenses are rebooting.”

Haymitch’s heart dropped. No, they had to get you out. They couldn’t be detected yet, he had to uphold his promise to protect you.

Probably thinking similar, if not the same, thing, he and Finnick both ran inside. They raced down into the control room just in time to hear Snow’s final words over the video. “Don’t you think I know your friends are in the Tributes Centre?” and with that all the screens in the room went dark.

There were various yells. Both from people trying to get in contact with the team and Katniss losing her mind. “We have to get them out, he knows,” she cried, turning to her mentor.

“There’s no signal, we can’t contact them,” Plutarch explained bluntly.

“No. Haymitch, he knew the whole time. He was taunting me.” Haymitch wrapped his arms around her in a fatherly embrace. “Did I lose them both tonight?” she cried into his chest, repeating the words over and over.

As much as Haymitch felt for the girl, he was grieving too. Grieving the loss of his wife as well as the broken promise he had made so long ago.

You had just been curled in a fetal position on your bed when Peeta’s broken voice called out. “Guys,” he caught everyone’s attention. You rolled over, spotting gas creeping along the floor. It was slowly crawling up the walls, climbing into the vents that led to each cell. You began to worry that it was a Capitol gas designed to torture you , similar to the fog Haymitch had talked about in the arena. But curiosity got the better of you as you pulled the thin blanket around your body tighter. Your hospital clothes had been destroyed so many times they had stopped bothering to give them to you. But you stepped off the bed, heading for the glass barrier where gas was just beginning to accumulate on your side. But just before you could reach it the chain around your ankle held, tripping you a little. Still defiant after weeks of torture you opted to get on your knees to stretch to try to reach the fog. But what you hadn’t noticed, as you carefully lowered yourself, was that the gas had really begun to fill the room. As you settled on the ground you caught a whiff of the gas, immediately making you lightheaded. Your limbs became heavy as it quickly lulled you to sleep, your last thoughts being of what the Capitol’s torture would be that required you to be asleep.

When you finally managed to pry your eyes open the first time you were blinded and hazy. You faintly heard someone yell, “Can we get her some clothes?”

You managed to turn your head to the side, realizing you were moving. Judging by the whiteness all around you, you were still in the hospital-torture place. But you soon lost consciousness again, not finding it until you were on the aircraft.

When you managed to open your eyes for good you were staring up at a black, dome like ceiling. Looking around just a little you could see the heads and shoulders of soldiers, judging by the all black gear. One face you spotted was Gale’s. His gaze, however, looked miles away as he stared at his feet.

You could hear the thrum of the aircraft, only ever hearing that when the Capitol transported you to the worst times of your life.

Adjusting yourself more you could now see your fellow prisoners also lying on the floor of the aircraft although you seemed to be the only conscious one. By now the soldier who’s feet you had been laying at noticed your movement. “Hey, my name is Commander Boggs, we rescued you from the Capitol. We’re taking you to District 13.”

District 13? The military man had told you that’s where the rebellion was operating out of. He said that’s where Haymitch was. You could cry you were so relieved. For the first time in your life you may know peace. Even if it’s just for a second before you have to finish this war.

Recognizing what you no doubt wanted to ask, the man spoke. “Yes, Haymitch is there. He’s waiting for you in 13.” Tears of joy slipped from your eyes for the first time in god knows how long. As you tried to sit up, Boggs gently pushed you back onto the collapsed gurney you were laying on again. “I need you to lie still. We suspect you have some internal injuries that need to be assessed before you really start moving.” You agreed, settling further on the hard cushion. You suspected that you had injuries that the Capitol wouldn’t bother to heal because they couldn’t see them. Largely from the harsh treatment of the men that had bought access to your body through Snow. Many of them had pulled out of you with blood coating them but it was always dismissed and you were left there, something clearly wrong but you were powerless to do anything.

“How long?” you managed to ask, your voice hoarse.

“About 15 minutes out. We’re gonna have to roll you in on the gurney though.” You didn’t really like the idea of being treated like you were mortally wounded but you nodded nonetheless.

Around you the others were starting to stir. The soldiers sitting above them murmuring comforts and explanations. No one really made a move until Johanna started screaming. She sat up, two soldiers immediately jumping on her to push her back to the ground. “Do you want us to sedate you again?!” One of the soldiers yelled. That finally got her to stop fighting. Once they released her she huffed, scooting over to another wall to lean against, sending everyone glares.

The next person to be fully conscious was Annie. You turned your head to find her already looking at you. “Annie,” you cried. You hadn’t caught more than a glimpse of her in weeks but you were all too familiar with her screams.

“Y/N!” she cried. She scrambled up from her spot on the floor, one of the soldiers moving to stop her but a signal from Boggs made them stop. She kneeled over you, pulling you into a hug. Despite the awkward positioning you began to cry at the first compassionate human contact you had had in weeks.

“You’re okay,” you said, observing her relatively untouched appearance. Her long red hair still flowed down her shoulders unlike Johanna’s shaved head. Her skin looked unmarred unlike you and the two other victors’ skin. The one thing that matched the three of you was how malnourished and tired she looked. You guessed that since she knew absolutely nothing about the rebellion and her fragile mental state protected her from Peeta and Johanna’s punishments.

“Annie,” Boggs caught her attention, “Finnick is waiting for you in 13.”

Tears filled her eyes. “He’s- he’s alive? Finnick’s alive?” she cried joyfully.

“Yes, he is,” Boggs smiled.

Your conversation was then interrupted by a man also dressed in all black gear walking into the cabin. “We’re landing pretty soon and are beginning to descend. Everyone should buckle in.”

With some gentle coaxing Annie went to sit on a proper seat beside the soldier whose feet she had been laid by previously. Johanna refused to move so they just let her hold onto something in her corner. Peeta was fine because he had stayed strapped to his gurney unlike Annie or Johanna because they didn’t require them. Meanwhile Boggs was reaching over you to strap you in. You gave him a startled, questioning look as he reached down. “It’s just to make sure you don’t slip out,” he explained. “Trust me you can get out of it anytime. See?” He unclipped the belt easily before fastening it again.

Relaxing a little you looked up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath as you felt the aircraft descend. When you felt the landing gear hit the ground you had a weird sense of feeling at home. You knew Haymitch was near.

Haymitch sat waiting with Katniss and Finnick for when you and the others would be back. The three victors sat in tense silence until the door slid open. Gale’s head peaked in. He didn’t need to speak, his presence said enough. The other victors were back.

Immediately he, Finnick, and Katniss were scrambling into the medical wing. There they found a scene of doctors and nurses running around trying to figure out how to help victims of torture. The first person Haymitch saw was Johanna. She looked so different, the only recognizable thing about her was her sneer as she fought the doctors.

“Finnick!” Annie’s desperate voice pierced the air.

The doctors then parted for a second, revealing you lying on a hospital bed, neck straining to find your husband. “Y/N,” Haymitch tried to call but it came out as more of a sob. The fact that you were confined to your bed wasn’t promising considering Annie had ripped an IV from her arm, leaping into Finnick’s.

As he got closer (he was in such a hypnotic-like state he was pretty sure he knocked a nurse over) he took in your appearance more. It actually broke him to see his wife look so frail, the Capitol clearly having starved you and men having abused you.

Once he reached your bedside he leaned over the rail, pulling you into a hug as best as he could. He could feel your nails dig into his back, trying to claw him closer as each of you began to cry into the crook of each others’ necks. “I love you,” he heard you whimper out.

“I love you too,” he cried. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I never should’ve left your side.”

“No no. It’s not your fault.” Before you could say anything else a doctor interrupted you.

“Mr. Abernathy? We need to take her into surgery.” At the mention of surgery Haymitch reluctantly pulled away. He turned, finding a few medical staff standing behind the doctor ready to take you.

“Wh- why?” he stuttered out as the staff were already beginning to roll you away.

“No,” you cried, “don’t take me from him!” He faintly heard one of them trying to calm you down.

“We’re sorry but testing done in the field shows she has severe injuries to her reproductive organs. Most likely due to…” he hesitated with the next words, “repetitive rape. We’re going in to stop internal bleeding but we’re unsure of other things we’ll find. We’ll update you as soon as we can.” And with that the doctor rushed off.

Haymitch stood there helpless, unsure of what to do. He knew that you were safe and under the care of actual doctors who wanted to heal you but people died in surgery all the time, especially outside of the Capitol. He felt like you had been ripped from him all over again.

He looked around again, realizing he had yet to see one person. Peeta. He got his answer as to where the boy was when he heard a loud crash in another room. Rushing over he found Peeta with his hands wrapped around Katniss’ throat. Without thinking he ran at the boy, trying to pry him off the girl who he had once been madly in love with.

“Peeta let go!” Haymitch heard himself yell. He managed to get him off Katniss for a second before the boy managed to knock his former mentor off. Haymitch went stumbling backwards into some shelves as Peeta brought Katniss to the ground again. By now Gale and Boggs had entered the room, finding the same scene Haymitch had.

Gale immediately began trying to pry Peeta off of Katniss but even he was no match for the very determined Peeta despite his malnourishment. It took Boggs knocking Peeta in the head with an iron tray to get the boy off of Katniss.

Everyone took a second to breathe a breath of relief before they started aiding the two unconscious victors from 12.

Part XI | Masterlist | Part XIII

#haymitch #haymitch x reader #haymitch abernathy #haymitch abernathy x reader #thg #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader

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choochooboss · 4 months

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Introducing your station master & Magma event host!

Since there's already a lot of passengers visiting this station and I haven't spared much time to get to know my fellow submas fans over Tumbrl yet, an introduction would be in place!

I'm Jun, nice to meet you! *offers a hand for for a shake* I am a devoted submas artist & a monthly Magma event host! I go by ChooChooBoss everywhere (Twitter/Bsky/Twitch/Ko-Fi)!

This will be a long post! I will write a short intro as well which you can just skim through but here is a more in depth view how I got into submas, my other interests and life in general, in case you'd wish to know more about your conductor on this silly train!

How did I get into submas in the first place?

PLA. I met this certain mysterious & cool fellow time traveler and got curious! After the cave scene I went to read his Wiki, found out about Emmet, and... yeah. The emotional impact blasted me right out of a miserable cycle I was going through back then and set my soul on fire!! A month later I set up my first art account on Twitter, and the rest is history. They've become my greatest source of strength and inspiration and I enjoy drawing them every single day!

I love both twins very much! I tend to vibe with Ingo a little more than Emmet, but I draw Emmet more. People say I remind of butler Ingo the most, hehe. I certainly don't mind because I'm a big fan of butlermas!! In fact I got into submas & started playing Pokémon Masters EX in April 2022, a week before butler Ingo banner rolled in, so they truly got a special place in my heart ahah! (pssst draw more butlermas for me pls pls pls-)

However I don't draw warden Ingo as much as I would like to. I still get pretty emotional over his fate ahah, I can't draw him without a single tear! This sweet & kind man leading a good life and being an inspiration to others has been torn from literally everything he had for seemingly no reason apart from his name, clothes and the muscle memory and even those are barely intact. It seems like a miracle he's still standing and breathing after put through everything judging by the wear and tear on his uniform and body. Despite all that he carries a positive attitude, assists everyone in need, and does his best to help people and pokémon understand each other, unconditionally... Oh, my face is wet again...

My other interests besides submas?

Monster Hunter! Zelda! Genshin Impact! Super Mario! Trine! Crash Team Racing! And many many more! My favourite genres are platformers, kart racers, and action games, with a side of rhythm games. I'm a big fan of co-op games! I also watch my sis play JRPGs!

Monster Hunter is the dearest to me out of all. I've been hunting for well over a decade starting from MHFU. The games have charmed me with their incredibly satisfying combat system, world building, creature design, great attention to detail, character customisation and the games being nearly fully co-op!!

Other things I do:

Pokémon is practically the only turn-based game I enjoy, mainly because of the characters and collection aspect. However!! I adore Pokémon Colosseum (the first pkmn game I ever played!) and it's double battle focus, so The Indigo Disc has been a delight after the long starvation for double battles, coming up with different combinations makes the battles much more fun to me!!... I sound like Emmet here do I ahahah! We also share the fact we are both left-handed!

Shuffle dancing, daily pull-ups, and expanding my ever growing VGM collection! I also enjoy traveling and taking photos to keep as a diary! I've played piano in a music school for 9 years, and I can also play kalimba. I've done casual boxing, gymnastics, horse riding and medieval swordfighting. I used to read comics/manga and watch movies and anime but nowadays I barely do that, I just rather use that time for drawing instead of just sitting and watching, unless I have company!

I share the apartment with my anxious brother and our two sweet female cats, Laku (11, stubborn and cuddly) and Kalevi (21, demanding and full of love) in a city center. My parents are both entrepreneurs and run a farm in the countryside & I have 4 siblings with me as the middle kid!

Where can you meet me?

I am a game artist by profession, with 4 yrs of studies and roughly 7 years of EXP in the field doing game art, UI design, character/prop design, in mobile games as well as PC titles, 2D and 3D. At the moment I am looking for work; I keep up the motivation and learn new skills by running my art accounts while looking for new opportunities.

I hail from the land of darkness, snow, salmiakki, metalheads and renownly reserved people, Finland! (UTC+2)

Despite having my roots here I am pretty much the opposite of a typical Finn in almost every sense ahah! I'm a small guy who's not afraid talking to strangers and laughs a lot. And I dislike coffee for the contrary, it's very popular amongst finns.

With the inspiration from submas I've finally stepped into the world of cosplay so you can usually meet this small and excitable Ingo in the biggest local conventions, Desucon and Tracon! Come say hi!

About my social battery:

I'm both social and socially anxious ahah! I love making new friends and talking to all sorts of people and writing comments, and gathering together with my mutuals to do cool stuff together! However my social battery is very small... I often struggle with my AD(H)D and anxiety issues, so my replies can be extremely slow. I'm easily overwhelmed when life gets busy and I deal with it by withdrawing to minimise the the stimuli and then sorting my stuff out one by one. This is a frustrating shortcoming, but I'm working hard to find a balance I can maintain without getting exhausted. Please be patient with me! If you don't hear from me in a while, please don't take it personally! In fact, it makes me really happy if you contact me, for any purpose!

Which pronouns do I go with?

I go by they/them! I am also aroace, so if I appear to show any sort of romantic interest, it's definitely not that. I love meeting new people and am quite interested in people in general so I'm excited to get to know you better, but the thing is... I have been confusing people on several occassions for saying things that could be taken as flirting. I am terribly sorry for that, that's just the way I show how I care!

I don't really identify myself by any specific gender either, but rather by my roles or interests (Magma host, submas fan, game artist etc.). Submas encouraged me to enjoy dressing formally even if I'm just sitting at home, because I love formal clothing in general and wearing them makes me feel confident and stand taller! I usually wear collar shirts and black or white slacks.

More about my AD(H)D:

I don't have an official diagnosis but deal with the same problems as AD(H)D people do; poor work memory, dissociation, hyperfocus (drawing and people), sleep deprivation, impulsiveness (juggling too many things and going with the wind), getting sensory/information overloads, and feeling like I don't fit in. I figured it out after I finished school & lost my job for that I am unable to handle big tasks without anyone giving me directions. It has taken a while but I've figured out things that help me manage my daily life as well as have a medication that mainly boosts my capability to get things started which is another great struggle ahah.

How do I manage to keep myself on track?

I use a Pomodoro timer to keep up a good flow and remember to take breaks! This is what I use the most:

I should set it up on my tablet as well. I think it's really cool to see how many hours I have actually put into drawing! Last year I clocked in well over 3k hours, ahaha!

How to catch me?

Right now I have great difficulty managing replies, but usually you can reach me by DMs! I check Discord and Twitter the most often! However I must ask you to respect my current DNI status. It means I am really overwhelmed so I wish nobody comes asking for my attention until it has been lifted, unless it's really necessary. I really love talking to you all but I also have to accept and deal with my own limits strictly like this or it won't work out.

What am I working on at the moment?

Besides the holiday set I have several short comics under works as well as one big comic (100+ pages!). That one is my personal greatest goal! I started working on it in June 2022 and I have currently 40+ pages sketched and 60+ thumbnailed.

I was afraid of starting any comic projects before submas, but the sheer excitement over them carried me over that personal wall ahah!

The story's beginning and end are looking good and somewhat functional but there's still a lot to work to do and holes to fill in the middle before I dare to start fleshing out the pages. I have little experience in writing or comic making so I hope you forgive if some things don't make sense or the dialogue is a little on the nose so to say ahah!

The story will be packed with action with the overall tone being on the darker side, but it sure won't be lacking in humor! The project's main goal is to make it a celebration of all things submas & to prove to myself I can handle a big scale project despite my shortcomings!

This train has reached the terminal!

Thank you for riding my silly submas train!! I adore reading all your tags and comments! They brighten up my day & fuel my passion even more!! I hope to bring many more fun things for you to look forward to!! See you again soon!

ALL ABOARD!!

#Personal #Introduction

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toms-cherry-trees · 9 months

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Don't Hold My Hand (I'll Break Your Heart) || Tommy Shelby x Fem OC ~ Prologue

Summary: How can one recover from having their life swept out from under theit feet? When a promising future becomes lost, shattered by a past that should have remained long forgotten? Is care and love enough to undo the damage, or will it just be a sweet balm to give a brief respite of the pain before the unavoidable end?

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Vague description of war injuries

Author's note: This fic is loosely based on Me Before You, keyword loosely. I don't have many information on what voluntary nurses did after the war nor how did they treat those with long term injuries, but I am working as best as I can with what I know so do not expect this to be entirely historically accurate. There also may be some ableism akin to the period but it will be kept minimal

This is also my first time writing Tommy with an OC! Say hello to Charlotte Florence Tindall everyone! She is an OC I've had for 3 years based in Lady Sybill Crawley from Downton Abbey

Next part 》

The gates to Arrow House stood tall and imponent amidst a thick grove in the depths of Warwickshire. The estate’s name had been forged in sturdy steel and perched high above the iron and brick archways, kept in pristine condition despite the long exposure to the elements, with the family’s proud surname hanging just below in equal condition. Charlotte could easily imagine an unfortunate servant sent there on the daily with a ladder and some polisher, his only duty being to keep the family’s name spotless, literally.

The journey towards the manor was brief and silent, the bumps in the road barely noticeable in the luxurious car that had picked her up from the train station, with leather seats and a smoothly purring engine. She knew little about the brands and commodities money could afford, but the vehicle, driven by a smartly dressed man in a crisp suit, surely cost more than all the money she had ever owned or would ever own in her life as a former VAD nurse.

The Great War had taken many opportunities, but in its wake, it had unexpectedly given some. Hordes of girls and women turned to their nearest recruitment offices or hospitals to receive express courses in nursing and home care, to serve their country side by side with the men, restoring to health those who had been wounded in combat and caring for those who had given it all until they had no more left. Field hospitals, Red Cross stations, local hospitals, and convalescence homes; all packed to the gunnels with soldiers who had been wounded, scarred, maimed, and traumatised beyond repair.

But the war had come to an end. The volunteers, the ones who had risen to the task, scattered and went back to their lives. And so did Charlotte. Only to realise the long battle had just begun. The men would not recover only because the conflict had concluded. Many remained who would need lifetime care and attention that not many families were trained or willing to provide. The nurses returned, offering their skills in little advertisements printed in newspapers or glued to shop windows.

She had it easy, in a way. Early in 1919, a man she cared for harnessed her in to be his private nurse, but that lasted until he came forward with less honourable propositions. Then came an elderly colonel, whom she watched over up until his last breath. And most recently, a strapping young sergeant, whose fiance, who didn’t take kindly to having a young woman dress and wash him, nearly chased Charlotte off.

She quickly grew disenchanted with the job, having found mostly trouble and no small amount of tears in it. Perhaps she was not made for this as she originally thought. Maybe she would do better as a cashier or cook; she could seek a post as a secretary or a board girl in the telephone company. She had learned enough to defend herself as a seamstress. Anything to keep her clothed and fed while sparing her the suffering.

But one day, a letter arrived at her door. A letter sent by the treasurer of Shelby Company Limited. The infamous Polly Gray. A shiver ran down her spine when she read the name in elegant calligraphy over expensive paper, and a part of her feared the envelope would burst in her hands like a hand grenade.

Who in Birmingham didn’t know about the Shelbys? In the slums and the rookeries, people didn’t pray to God; they prayed to the Peaky Blinders. They owned the factories, the distilleries, the pubs, and the institutions. They owned the police. They owned the very streets the people walked every day, their houses, their money, and their lives if they so wished.

And now, it seemed they wished to own Charlotte.

Mrs. Gray convened her for an interview at their estate since they requested her services as a nurse to care for a war veteran. The letter provided little more information other that they offered generous pay, accommodations, and a day off of her choosing. A preset date and time had been included, next to a train ticket to get her to the station closest to them.

Charlotte could not tell exactly what drove her to actually assist. Perhaps she wished to know how and why they found her. Maybe the lure of a salary twice the average had lured her in. Or the morbid curiosity of meeting this soldier; as far as she knew, the Shelby brothers didn’t need anything from anyone.

When she arrived at the manor, a stern-faced woman took her coat and bag. She barely had time to admire her surroundings before the maid led her towards a drawing room. Dark wood in panels and furniture, crimson wallpaper, two walls entirely lined with bookshelves filled with books of all sorts, some in pristine condition and others worn and falling apart.

Amidst all, in a settee of black velvet, sat Polly Gray. Pearls hugged her neck, hung from her ears, and adorned the front of her silver frock. Bracelets and rings decorated her fingers. Masses of papers covered the tea table before her, which she methodically separated into neat piles. By her side were a glass of whiskey and a cigarette with crimson stains, the ashtray filled to the brim. The face powder could not conceal entirely the dark circles underneath her eyes, and some fine streaks of grey contrasted against her golden chocolate curls. A woman not quite old in age but worn out tremendously by troubles and tribulations Charlotte didn’t know.

She cleared her throat, since she appeared so immersed in her paperwork she didn’t notice her.

“Mrs Gray”

“Sit” The harshness of the command contrasted with the undeniable softness of her voice, edged with barely contained nervousness, as if she stood ready to collapse. Hurriedly, she collected the scattered papers and dropped them in a pile at her side, just in time for the stern maid to place before them a tea tray, all polished silverware and hand-painted porcelain. Mrs. Gray and her spent several minutes in fraught silence, stirring a cup of fragrant tea with two sugars, while Mrs. Gray added the last of her whiskey glass into her cup. Charlotte waited for her to speak first, but the woman seemed to be in no rush, which only added to her own anxiousness.

“Mrs. Gray. You called me here. You sent me a train ticket and a driver to pick me up. Why?”

She stirred her beverage methodically, making five perfect clockwise rounds with the spoon and gently tapping it on the rim twice. Staring into the steaming liquid while she pondered her words.

“You are a nurse, aren’t you? You have field experience, and have also have cared for disabled soldiers." Not an interrogation, merely a statement. She didn’t question her about how she knew that. If she so desired, she could track down her school teacher and ask her how well she did in maths when she was nine. But that still didn’t provide her with answers.

“I am. I have worked with several patients, and if you wish, I can provide referen-”

She cut Charlotte off with a wave of her hand. “I already have your references. I spoke with your previous employers myself.”

A cold shiver spread down her legs. What could she possibly require from her that she take such an effort to map out her past? If she had that information, it meant they had checked her background and that of her family and close friends. And she assumed she had passed whatever unspoken test they carried on her; otherwise, they wouldn’t have brought her straight into their den.

But again, why?

Mrs. Gray put down the teacup and finally looked at the other woman’s face for the first time since her arrival. Her eyes were large, deep in colour, and full of wisdom and caution.

“Do you have any experience with men with reduced mobility? That is, men who are wheelchair-bound?”

That treaded closer to her area of expertise. For a brief moment, she feared she would be taken to a dimly lit basement where she’d be asked to save the life of a grievously wounded man with a gun pressed to her temple. Or maybe she just read far too many crime novels.

“I do. I worked with many men who had lost their ability to walk, either by spinal injury or loss of limb."Before the following pause prolonged for too long, Charlotte pressed the matter further. “Is that why you called me? You have a veteran who can’t walk."She spoke the words carefully, since she had learned through trial and error that not all people reacted well when she spoke too harshly about the state of the patient, so she tiptoed around the subject with carefully chosen words.

Suddenly she stood, setting the cup aside with such carelessness that the tea splattered everywhere, staining the lace covering the side table.

“Come with me." She headed towards the hallway, not even looking to see if Charlotte followed. She barely had time to steal one more sip before rushing behind her, straining her legs to keep up with her pace. She led her through a back door and out of the house, towards a stone and gravel backyard, smelling of horses and petrol. Other than a few hounds and a lone gardener trimming some bushes, no one else was around. No one listening but Lottie.

“My three nephews enlisted around the same time in 1914. And I will forever be grateful that the three of them made it home alive." She walked with her hands behind her back like a man. With that ramrod straight posture and her puffed chest, she could put a general to shame. It certainly worked to intimidate her, and she walked a step behind her, feeling unworthy of keeping up her pace.

“John and Arthur came back okay. Or as okay as men could after the things they saw and did” John and Arthur. Both names rang a bell, but she hadn’t seen them personally. They acted as henchmen more than businessmen, terrorising the factories and the foremen in their factories. Legend has it that a foreman in a Sparkbrook steelworks bought a house with bribes for tossing bodies in the furnace.

“But Tommy” She continued, bringing her attention back to the present. “He was a tunneller. There was a collapse near the end of everything. I don’t know the entire story, but the tunnel caved in on them. Out of fifteen boys, only five were dug out."She fell silent for a moment and made the sign of the cross. Pain wrung Charlotte’s heart, but she didn’t allow it to settle. She had quickly learned to push pain into the back of her mind during the war. If she allowed herself to feel it, she’d collapse like wet clay.

“They brought him back on a stretcher. I never thought a person could be more blue than white and have more broken bones than whole ones. He spent the rest of the war in a hospital room and remained there for a good part of the next year. Every doctor expected him to just die in his sleep, but he refused to give up. He made a full recovery and came home as if nothing happened.”

The tone of her words and Lottie’s very presence there indicated that not all had gone well.

“He took over his duties in the business and married a girl he fancied. They even had a son. No indicator that something could be wrong". Her pace had slowed, allowing her to catch up, now walking by her side, not wanting to miss a word. She had left the backyard behind and now moved into bare grass; from the entrance, she hadn’t quite grasped how far the estate stretched. It could easily and comfortably house two manors equal in size with their own stables and gardens.

“He suddenly started complaining of pain in his legs. Stiffness, soreness, especially in the mornings” She recognised the symptoms immediately but chose to remain silent while she spoke. “Soon he had trouble walking; sometimes his knees gave out and he just fell. He resisted the cane as much as he could, but in time he could not remain upright without it for long.

“We sought a doctor in London. He said a disc in his back had cracked in the accident. The fracture had been stable, but as time passed, it worsened and began to collapse and compress his spine."She waved her hand dismissively. “I didn’t understand any of the technical words, but the doctor said the injury would progress. The spine would be compressed more and more until he lost all use of his legs.

Even though Charlotte didn’t see her expression, she noticed in her words the sorrow she felt for her nephew. And she didn’t blame her. To have him delivered home in pieces, seeing him go through a miraculous recovery only for this to happen. His life robbed from him, one sliver at a time, seeing his own body fail him day by day.

Mrs. Gray exhaled slowly, as if regaining her composure. “Ever since he got the diagnosis, he changed. He became irritable and wrathful. He refused to be seen with the cane; whenever he met people in the office, he leant into something or sat down. Then he refused to be seen altogether and handled business locked in his office." She pulled out a cigar case from her dress pocket and offered her one, which Lottie kindly refused.

“When he no longer could manage stairs easily, he started working from home. He seldom saw people; only his brothers and I could visit him” The smoke left her mouth with each word, since she consumed the cigarette so desperately she barely had time to breathe out. She thought that she didn’t need all that information to do her job, but she didn’t interrupt her. She sounded like she needed someone to listen to her at least once.

She finished the first cigarette and quickly lit a second with the leftover stub. Her crimson coated lips parted, as if she wanted to say something else but chose not to at the last second. Instead her features contorted in a snarl briefly, lips pursed like she tasted something bitter, and then shook her head and regained her composure.

“He bought this manor to be away from everyone. He wanted to live alone, with only the staff to help him, but I couldn’t leave him alone in that state, even if he refused to be helped. He may be an arse, but he is still my nephew” Lottie snickered at her last statement, disguising the inappropriate sound as a cough.

“I realise I could not handle it alone. There is just so much to be done, and many things he would never let me do for him” Another lit cigarette, consumed as frantically as the first two. “I tried to hire him a personal maid but she had the talent of a doornail”

“That’s why you sought me?” It made sense now. A common maid couldn’t handle his injuries and his needs like she could.

A bitter laugh fell from her lips “I sought a nurse, yes. And another one. And another one” She didn’t pay heed to her concerned expression “He never got along with any of them. Despised them, I dare say. Tommy cannot stomach being stared at or treated with pity” She made a mental note of that for her future work, that is, if she survived the day “Not all the pay raises and benefits in the world convinced them to stay long. I offered to pay the last one’s bank loans if she reconsidered her resignation, but that only held her in for another three weeks”

Charlotte’s resolution to take the job faltered by the minute. Why would she want to care for a man who seemed hellbent in making his caretakers miserable? Sure, his situation was nothing short of horrible, but did that really give him the right to spread his venom to those who tried to do good by him? And most importantly, did she really want to put herself through that? The pay was the best she had ever been offered, but would the money be worth it?

Suddenly Mrs. Gray gripped the younger woman’s hand, so tightly her fingers ached. She should have shaken her off, but the desperation in her eyes deterred her from it. She looked like a woman standing on the edge of the abyss, hanging only from her grasp.

“I personally collected your reference letters. All of your previous employers spoke of your patience and your affection. Of how your softness and cheerfulness helped them. I think you are what Tommy needs. I think you are the one who can help my nephew” Her grip tightened and an involuntary mewl of pain came from her throat. She released Lottie’s hand, and instead placed a pleading touch on her bicep.

“Please give it a try. At least for a month. I know he won’t live to be an old man. And whatever life he has left, whether it is 4 years or 4 decades, I want him to find peace. Happiness, even. I want him to have a reason to wake up in the morning” She could tell she wished to say more, but had cut off her words.

With all she laid out before her, Charlotte barely resisted the temptation to grab her purse and run for her life. But something in her words, in the story she narrated for her, it pulled at her heartstrings. She had a thing for lost causes and broken things. In the worst scenario, she would walk out depressed but with enough money to start anew.

She only had one request

“Can I meet your nephew before I make my decision?”

Mrs Gray dropped her arm and pressed her lips into a thin line, eyebrows knit together in a scowl. She wanted to say no, that much she could tell. Maybe she thought she shouldn’t see Thomas until she had her signed up so she couldn’t back out. But Charlotte wouldn’t agree on anything until she spoke to him

“Of course”

Back into the house, she took her to the second floor. Lottie quickly noticed the house had been retrofitted in ways most couldn’t afford to offer Thomas a semblance of comfort. Large paintings hung in the stairway, most of them displaying a man with blue eyes and a dominant posture, always standing with his hands behind his back.

A set of double doors stood ajar towards the back of the floor. The room behind stretched almost all the length of the house, and Lottie noticed in the wall the dents where walls had been taken down to create such a large space. The furniture stood well spaced between each other to allow wide passages, enough to comfortably fit a wheelchair. Sunlight filled the alcove, coming from the many windows with the drapes drawn back. A set of glass doors led to a magnificent veranda that overlooked the estate.

Just outside, close to the balustrade, sat a black-haired man, his back turned to them. The wheelchair he sat upon was far more complex and luxurious than the ones she had in the ward. He wore a robe and slippers, as if he had just risen from bed despite being well into the afternoon.

Mrs. Gray walked out first, while she waited just under the lintel. She stood next to the man, one hand on his shoulder.

“Tommy, there is someone I want you to meet”

“No” His voice cut through the air, deep and curt. It sounded manly, and would have been pleasing to hear in other situation

“Tommy, please give her a chance, I promise-” He cut her pleading short with a smack of his fist on the wooden armrest.

“I said no! I don’t want her here. Put her in a cab and send her away” Mrs. Gray seemed to be at her wits’ end. She crouched next to him, like when one speaks to a child. She couldn’t make out the words she hissed at him through clenched teeth, but whatever she said, he didn’t like. With surprising skill he turned the wheelchair around and nearly ran Charlotte over, having barely managed to stop the chair with a heel on the floor.

The paintings did little justice to the blueness in his eyes. A vibrant blue not often seen, but filled with ice the moment they laid on her. The smart haircut had been replaced by an overgrown mane, jet black strands curling behind the ears and waving around the top. A five o clock shadow obscured the clenched jaw down to the neck. But even unkempt like that she felt the aura of haughtiness and pride bordering on arrogance emanating from him. He held her gaze for endless seconds, and not once she shied away from his cold eyes.

“Whatever it is you think you can do for me, save it for someone else. And now, get out of my home”

He wheeled past her, moving towards the main double doors. He couldn’t really go anywhere, but she figured he planned to hide somewhere until she left.

Lottie stood there, a bit dumbfounded, while Mrs. Gray returned to her side, despair plastered in her features, mixed with barely contained anger

“He is like that sometimes, but I promise you, some days are better. I will talk to him and get him to behave, and if you-”

“I can start tomorrow” She cut her off. Her jaw hung open, eyes widened as she struggled to wrap her mind around her words. Words that shocked Charlotte as much as Mrs. Gray, for she hadn’t actually allowed them out of her mouth. They just left in a blurt. But she meant them, even if she couldn’t quite tell herself why. It went beyond the money; she wanted this job. As if something invisible pushed her to stay there; as if there she’d truly find a purpose. It made no sense, but hunches and feelings rarely did

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Gray. I think I can help your nephew.”

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