thinking of master miller with a box full of polaroids with david, catherine, and maybe some old torn pictures from MSF at the bottom tucked beneath the cardboard flaps.
Tags: age difference (Snake is 22), foxhound era, canon-typical violence, public humiliation, CQC, abuse of authority, slow burn, canon disabled character, implied past bbkaz, angst, vomiting, drinking, mild hurt/comfort, sexual fantasy, closeted character, PTSD, hot for teacher, inappropriate erections, embarrassment, DEAD DOVE: do not eat, highly dubious consent, blow jobs, hand jobs, rape/non-con themes (not heavy), masturbation, boot kink, rope bondage, touch starved, enforced care, drug use, not canon compliant
Miller scoffed, looking down into his lap. He said nothing for a while.
“I am your mentor, not your friend.”
“Uh huh,” David remarked bitterly.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Would it have been worse not knowing?
David knows what he feels towards his Master is wrong, and he knows Miller would never reciprocate. Miller is an enigma of mixed signals and anger, bothered by something David could never come close to understanding. He will try, though.
Set loosely in 1994, before the events of Metal Gear 1&2. More info in A/N.
Current Status: 10/10 chapters (complete)
Cover Art (drawn by me, posted on my art blog @n0sebleeds)
Chapters:
Chapter one: Spite
"David noticed that the Master was not budging from the doorway. Of course, why should he? They looked at each other for a moment before Miller raised his eyebrows."
All's fair in love and war, except when it isn't.
Chapter two: Prying Eyes
"“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Miller’s voice was low but insistent, dangerous, speaking into the back of David’s hair."
On a quest to obtain his confiscated property, David digs a little too deep.
Chapter three: A Bargain Gone Awry
"he knew then that Miller had noticed what David had done. He knew, and he couldn’t say anything about it. Not yet. Not in front of the other men."
David has figured out what his next move is, but Miller can't be played like a game of chess.
Chapter four: One's Nature
"Miller cleared his throat, and swiftly put his glasses back in place. His coffee steamed the lens as he drank from it, wincing against the heat and general bitterness. It almost explained away the flush rising up his neck."
David just wants to get through the day after the disaster of last night, and he almost succeeds... Almost...
Chapter five: Controlling Biology
Miller slowly met his eyes.
“That must be…” the column of his neck constricted, choking his voice, “... hard for you.”
Miller is not the best man to ask for help.
Chapter six: Bite The Bullet
"David knew that when he opened his eyes again, it couldn’t have been more than a split second later, and yet everything felt different."
Things get confrontational...
Chapter seven: Out Of Hand
"Miller didn’t answer, didn’t even try to. He was locked up tightly, jaw hinged shut, approaching rigor mortis.
Miller's 'helping hand' has done more damage than good. Who could have guessed?
Chapter eight: Roadkill
"When David entered, his newly unshaded eyes drifted up in their sockets to look at him with a stare that was miles away, his eyes bloodshot to the point where his irises looked like glass in the waning light."
Pain can sometimes bring change.
Chapter nine: Flinch
Miller relaxed again, releasing a single steady breath out, twin plumes of condensed warm air pushed from his nose.
“Well, good morning to you too,” he said stiffly.
Things continue to feel different.
Chapter ten: Mirage
"He needed his forgiveness, he needed it more than he needed him in any other way. He would leave him alone forever, so as long as he could get his forgiveness."
Snippet from a Solimiller smut fic I'm working on:
Classic Solimiller fic using this as practice, so nothing new. Just adding my favorite details. I just know David loves the taste of cigarette ash.
Fic under the cut. It got way longer than I meant it to. This is only a portion of the whole thing. TW: Abuse of power, Dom/Sub, Implied Impact Play, Cig Ashing, Boot Fetish
Summary: David wants attention; David acts like a brat. Miller gives him what he wants, and what he wants is a firm hand and discipline. David decides to get caught with cigarettes and be extra bratty about it. This is a bit of what happens after the “training session”:
Miller sat back in his chair letting the room grow quiet as his gaze looked down at his little project sitting so patiently and obediently at his feet. His eyes flicked between his Master's face and boots. He knew what the mutt wanted.
“You took it well today…. I might have an iron fist, but a weak heart when it comes to you. Something adorable about your patheticness…” Miller huffed reaching down to run his hand through David's hair. This time he was soft and gentle. A lot different than the way he gripped his hair in his metal fist, just a few minutes ago.
David couldn’t help, but let out a little happy sigh, closing his eyes to focus on the feeling of his master's sweet touch. Now was his favorite part of a discipline session, the reward.
“I respect a man who can take his lashings.” Miller’s voice was so much smoother than before, any anger had left his system.
The younger soldier looked up at him from his place on his knees below Miller. He looked so happy, like he had been waiting all week for a bit of praise from his master. The boy knew how to piss him off, but he also knew how to please him and all David wanted to do now was please.
“I’m going to sit here and smoke your fucking sin. You can use my boot as you please.” Miller took one cigarette out of David’s pack leaning back in his chair and pulling out the lighter he also confiscated.
“Yes sir.” David replied quickly. Miller saw the soldier perk up immediately.
Miller could see his puppy eyes looking at him pleading like a dog when he sits for a treat. It made Miller smile. He wanted that cigarette bad.
“Any mess you make you have to clean up… standard rules,” Miller added, flicking the lighter ablaze and slowly lighting the end of the cig. He drew in slowly, letting the smoke pool on his tongue before blowing out a long stream.
“Yes, sir.” David repeated. His eyes followed the stream of smoke as it curled into the air.
Miller took another puff, drawing just as slowly as before. He loved to see how desperate the boy looked. He wondered if the younger man could see his faded eyes locked on him behind the dark frames. Now that was something he wasn’t going to get just yet.
“Don’t waste time, I used to suck them down fast.…. Not the only thing I used to suck down.” Miller laughed. He’d been right where the younger man was decades ago. It was interesting to be on this side of the equation now. Though it meant he knew how the mutt wanted to be treated.
Miller kicked out his boot and wiggled the toe at David, inviting him to take his place. David quickly positioned himself. Straddling the heavy combat boot. Pressing himself against it eagerly.
David wraps himself like a boa constrictor around his master's leather and lace. Pressing himself as desperately against the older man as he could. His arms wrapped pathetically around his calf, his head resting in his lap, cheek pressed to his thigh. One cold metal hand ran icey fingertips down his scalp. The hair on the back of his neck stood up at the touch.
He began to rut, slowly at first. A little timid about the sensation. His ass was still on fire from Miller’s belt and he knew it was going to bruise. He had no clue how he would hide it in the showers. Not that he was upset about that. Everyone knew he got special training.
As he rode his master’s boot he began to let out little pathetic whines, he couldn’t help himself. He had been dreaming about this all week. David had been hard since before Miller even had his hand on his throat. The pressure felt so good as he picked up his sloppy pace. He pressed his face and mouth into Miller's thigh attempting to muffle himself. He knew he couldn’t stop it.
“You remind me of myself. I needed someone to put that attitude in place.” Miller scoffed. He just wasn’t going to tell David it had been his father.
Miller hated how soft he wanted to be to him. The little shit was a good kid at the end of the day. His fathers personality only came through in his occasional spit back and his incessant commitment to nicotine.
“Your a good boy you know that.” Miller continued to pet the obedient little mutt's hair. It was so soft and well maintained even with his shaggy cut. It should be clipped to regulation length, but Miller let it slide. There was more to grip onto.
David looked up at him with those sweet eyes. They looked like John’s, but pure. Untainted by pain and responsibility. He loved the praise, Miller had been in his place before. Which meant he knew that this little session had been David's plan all along.
“Stop.” The older man brought out his drill sergeant voice.
David slowed down. But it felt so fucking good, he couldn't help himself from continuing to rub, he was getting so close, finally so fucking close.
“I said stop, boy, or I will put you over my knee again!" Miller snapped. David knew that the threat was real. He considered it, but he would like the option to sit down this week. His ass was already turning purple and was going to stay that way for days. He was happy with that. He wants a reminder that his master cared.
“Open your mouth” Miller ordered and David did as he was told. If he had dog ears they would be standing at attention.
“Is this what you wanted?” Miller grabs him by the jaw with his metal hand, squeezing open his mouth. The older man leans down, blowing smoke right past David's lips. The boy breathes it in like it's the first breath of fresh air he’s ever had.
“Yes sir. Thank you sir.” David yipped gratefully. Miller chuckled. Was the nicotine addiction hereditary?
“Stick out your tongue.” Miller ordered again.
Of course, the good little soldier complied immediately. Arching his back as he straightened up into a more formal position. He was curious what his master wanted his mouth for.
Miller took another drag of the cigarette before moving his hand over the boy's eager face. He can see he’s salivating, spit pooling at the end of his tongue. Normally, it would be his cock that the mutt’s mouth was begging for.
He flicked the cigarette, letting the ash fall onto David's tongue. The soldier flinched a bit as it hit, but kept his composure like he knew he should.
“Now close and swallow.”
And David did just that. Letting the bitter taste wash its way down his throat. He liked how the heat stung his tongue and the grit of the ash coated his mouth.
“Good boy…” Miller said in the sweetest tone he was capable of.
David looked up at him his eyes were sparkling from the praise. He was starting to feel a little bad for the beating he had just given him, but he had something to ask before he let the guilt sink in.
This next part, Miller wanted an honest answer for. He reached up and took off his glasses. His pale eyes were a treat only for those he trusted. He knew David loved to see them; it made Miller feel a bit better about them. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was self-conscious.
He also knew David had a tendency to break eye contact when he lied or was ashamed of something. That habit got even worse when he knew his Master was looking directly at him. Those eyes intimated and mystified him all at once.
“Now tell me, did you mean to get caught?” Miller’s voice was calm, but firm. This was not the time to lie, he had just gotten his master's praise. David was beginning to feel ashamed none the less. Whatever bratty behavior the time spent away from his master had brought up was gone now.
There it was, that pathetic little face and the flick of his eyes to the left. Miller smirked. So god damn cute.
David opened his mouth to answer and then closed it again.
“Did you?” Miller raised a brow, his voice rising.
David was still quiet. He kept his eyes on the space just beyond Miller's shoulder. He couldn’t stand to see disappointment in his master’s eyes.
“Tell me the truth, I’m getting impatient, boy.” His tone was getting sharper. David knew he did not have much time until Miller would get the truth out of him another way.
“Maybe…. “ David gathered his courage and looked back into those beautiful pale eyes, “I really wanted the cigarettes…… I also missed your firm hand…. a part of me needed it….. I don’t know how to have self-discipline without you.”
“Are you telling me the truth?” Miller raised an eyebrow. He knew the boy was, he had been the boy before. How many times had he let John catch him being a whore with the new recruits at MSF and gotten himself a little discipline? He felt a little pride at his perfect student admitting he needed him. He knew he would have to teach the younger man to grow out of that for his own good, but selfishly, he always wanted to be there to mold him into a perfect soldier.
“Yes sir.” David replied, desperate for praise, desperate to be a good boy again. Desperate to be told he could finish his reward.
“So this isn’t much of a punishment is it.” Miller clicks his tongue, “ I will have to come up with something else for tomorrow.”
This was not supposed to be this long, I just really wanted the ashing scene. This is my first ever fanfiction and I'm sorry as fuck if the formatting or editing is off. We are learning here.
Thanks for reading :) I will hopefully finish the full thing soon.
