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#rudy parra smut
blingblong55 · 6 months
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Luck charm-Rodolfo Parra NSFW
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A/N: Is anyone taking Christmas asks? Because this is mine, that fat red man better have him under the tree
Based on a request:
Hi! How about Dad’s best friend request with Rudy? --- F!Reader, smut, MDNI, 18+, unprotected!sex, gentle!sex, age gap, oral!sex, some after care, dbf!Rudy ---
A/N: I know my baby boy loves gentle sex, can't tell me he doesn't, it's already written in my brain.
Rudy was introduced by your father at the age of 19, he was working on a mission and needed the help of your father. He was always invited to dinners, celebrations and now your welcome back party. After being away for some research, you saw him. More muscles, that charming smile of his, the voice, the same gentleman mannerisms and that stare he gave you. Now at age 24 and he at age 39, things can be looked at differently.
The little shoulder rub he gave you to persuade your dad or you into going on the late-night mountain drives, the smirk he had when you placed your hands on his chest after losing a game, the banter and the comments he made when you wore a certain dress to a date. Maybe that was his way of making sure you were ready to be his someday. Maybe he needed to, in some way, let your father know his little girl was in good hands.
When you hugged him, nothing but friendly, his hand slipped to your waist and it felt as if it belonged there. His cologne, the smell of tobacco and vanilla, what a delight. "Hola, mi amor," he always called you that. His love, ever since you could remember. After dinner, your parents went on their nightly walk, you and he stayed playing some game and then he placed his hand on your thigh. "You look beautiful, hope it's not for the boyfriend," signature smirk on. "What if it is?" Your brow raised, a playful smirk on. "What if I don't let him see you like this?" Voice smooth.
"What will you do about it then?" Your gaze on his and that's when he kissed you. You didn't hesitate, saw it coming. He brings his hands to your body, wrapping them like you already belonged to him. The kiss was intense, so much so, you began to unbutton his shirt off. "Are you sure, mi amor?" He whispers and you nod. "I'm sure, definitely sure." And with that answer, he kisses your neck. Lifts the skirt up and buries his hands deep in your thighs. "Rudy," your lips say.
"Shhh, mi amor. Lift your arms," his hand removing your shirt. Thick fingers undo the clasps of your bra. He smirks once it comes off. Tongue on your nipples, licking and kissing them. You moan and before you know it, his shirt comes off. Then you see it on his dog tags, the charm you gave him on his birthday all those years ago. He knows you saw it, knows it all too well. "Oh mi amor," he coos and kisses your forehead. "Anytime I wore it, I got out safe from all those dangerous missions." He brings it to your lips, "Kiss it, mi amor." And you do.
Before you know it, his lips kiss all down to your panties, moving them to the side and chuckling. "Look at you, already so wet for me," tongue lapping your cunt. He wants to drown in your juices. Your hands on his hair, pushsing him furhter in, he groans. A finger circling your tight pussy, fingers thrusting you open for him. One, two and now three fingers, pumping deep inside of you. You moan his name, only for him to reward it with more kisses to your cunt. Sucking and kissing it like it was his religion. Your body the temple which he worships.
Once he knew you were ready, his already hard cock plays with your entrance. Smack it a few times until you whimper and buck your hips. He bends and kisses your forehead, "Tell me you want it," he whispers. "I want it, I want you," Your lips and his connecting, his fat cock thrusting into your tight cunt. He moans, the pleasure of making you his and now is in you, what a paradise you created for a man of little faith. Your hands on him, hips held by your legs. His hand caresses your face whilst the other holds you close.
The sofa shook from the movements, his dog tags hanging from his neck with the charm. And then you kiss them again, and he kisses your forehead. "My luck charm," he plants kisses all over your face. You look up at him, eyes shut in a moment as his thrusts become animalistic, you getting rewarded in kisses and whispered sweet nothings. "Don't, please don't cry, mi amor," he kisses the tears that fall from your precious eyes. "You're so...b-big," you look at him, trying to take all of his size. "I know, mi amor, I know, but you can take it. You're a good girl, a strong one too," lips once more on yours, trying to distract the pain of his much larger size.
His thrusts soon are slow, "Can I cum inside of you?" he asks so softly. You nod and he smiles like he had the privilege of owning the heaven your cunt is. "R/N, mi amor~" he moans. Cum filling you full to the brim. Some spills out, he pulls out, your cunt aching and he sits on the sofa, pats his thigh and you go to sit with him. He holds the glass of water to your lips, "Drink mi amor, you must be so tired," he kisses your forehead. His calloused hands rubbing your back, "Oh, my niña, are you cold?" The blanket your mum always had around now covering you and him. He hums out a song, kissing your forehead every other second.
Luck charm, the girl he loved since he met her. The girl he moaned the name of, the same name he would fight hell for to come and have dinner with her parents for. The pink panties he stole that he smelt to wank off to. The girl who is now his religion, temple and cum slut.
A/N: what..I said he was gentle, not that he wasn't a pantie thief or a bit of a perv, anyway, he's my baby boy now
Tags: @bi-witch-bxtch @kit-kats06 @alxexhearts @sweatymusichideout @ghostslittlegf
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soapybutt17 · 6 months
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Scary Dog Privilege
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Summary: Known as not only the little sister of Colonel Alejandro Vargas and the wife of Sergeant Major Rudy Parra, you were more famous for the fact that you were more feared for your bite than your bark unlike the two boys. Characters: Rudy Parra x Wife!Reader. Alejandro Vargas Word Count: 2,441 Chapter Warnings:  Profanities. Big Scary Dog Privilege. Mentions of Violence.
for @glitterypirateduck's Fall4Rudy Challenge Prompt: "Behave"
Masterlist | Request are Open
“Behave you two.”
It was one thing to help Alex and Farah with an upcoming mission, and it was another to realize that the bastard that caused such a mess in Las Almas’ base to be alive and well who also just so happens to still be alive after everyone thought him to be dead. You had accepted that both your brother and your husband would be annoyed by the fact, but their blood was boiling further when they had realized that one Philipp Graves would also be in attendance, returning to the base that he had once tried to overthrow.
“He does anything stupid, I’ll be the first one to blow his head off.” Your husband muttered under his breath but you had heard just as much as your brother.
“Get in line, I got first dibs on the bastard.” Alejandro quipped right back, never once did he try to hide the displeasure of the news of the man’s apparent arrival in a few minutes.
“Behave.” You raised your voice, earning a silence from the two, and the more than evident appreciation from everyone in the team that had been walking on eggshells since the new of Grave’s living state. Alejandro was beside himself and your husband was not much of a help as much as you wanted him to be in placating Alejandro’s temper.
“Yes, Ma’am.” Both had muttered but your attention was glued right back to the helicopter that had just landed and had housed the very man responsible for the two’s foul mood.
“I don’t want to hear anything from either of you from now on. We already have mess with need to deal with, I don’t want this to turn into a bloody massacre if it doesn’t need to be.”
Eventually, the helicopter door had opened and the sight of Commander Farah Karim and Lieutenant Alex Keller had brought a smile on your face. It was only natural to give them a welcoming entrance to Las Almas as you couldn’t depend on the two scary menace of men behind you to do to it.
“I hope your flight here was well.” You began, shaking the pair’s hand before your eyes turned behind them and narrowed at the sight of an all too familiar man that brought all the bad memories back into the surface. “Commander Grave, it’s nice to see you again.”
“No need for the fake pleasantries, Lieutenant.” The man brushed off, a sick smirk playing on his lips. “After all, the last time I was here wasn’t much of a good experience for any of you.”
Just like that, Alejandro was at it again. Spewing curse upon curse at the man in Spanish with Rudy holding him back. You had to rub your temple in annoyance, you had given both Farah and Alex an apologetic look to which both had sympathized over. They both understood the history the man had in Las Almas, but they had no other choice and Graves was the only person fit for the job—as much as you all hated it.
“Behave!” You screamed and two had finally halted and apologized to you and to your two guest.
“Keep your dogs in line, and we will not have much of a problem, Lieutenant.”
Something ticked at the statement and you found yourself pulling your gun out and pointing it towards Graves. You ignored the protest from everyone as you approached the bastard and digging the gun right through his chest, unafraid to pull the trigger if he says anything else.
“Keep that fucking mouth of your shut, Graves.” You spat. “You don’t need to worry about my husband or my brother, cause the moment I find out you’re fucking with us all over again, I’ll be the one to put a bullet through your skull.”
Put the fear of God in the man’s eyes you slowly backed away, immediately, being pushed behind your husband that now becoming calmer and ready to continue on with the discussion that was bound to happen between all six of you.
“Behave, Amor.” Rudy whispered turning behind to look at you with irony.
It seems the Vargas temper was still running strong through your veins. With a deep breath, you finally put your gun back to the holster and waited for the man to say anything else that would give you the privilege to shoot him point blank.
You said nothing now, allowing your brother to pull his head up on his ass and initiate in taking the three visitors into the heart of the base. He had also made sure to make Graves well aware of the fixes they had all done after the damage he had made to the base during the takeover.
You were left with your husband who now had his arm around your shoulder.
“So much for making the two of us behave.” He teased.
“No one calls my boys dogs.” You muttered, after everything you had all been through to make Las Almas safe again from the Cartel, you would kill anyone that would think of anyone as mere dogs. “I’ll kill anyone that hurts you or my brother without hesitation.”
“Cálmate, mi amor.” He chuckled, now pulling you into his chest, his arms wrapped around your waist as you took his scent in. “You mean the world to us and we will do anything and everything to keep you safe, not the other way around.”
“You and Alejandro will hesitate, but I fucking won’t. If that gringo had tried to say anything else I would shoot and ask questions later.” You muttered, chin resting on his sternum, you looked into his eyes, even in the seriousness of your tone, the smile was all too plastered on his handsome face. “I will not hesitate you know. I could still do that right now.”
As you made a plan to step away from his hold, he held you tighter.
“No need for bloodshed just yet. When this mission is over and things get out of hand again because of him, I’ll let you skip the line and shot him first.”
You grinned satisfied with your husband’s compromise.
“This is why I love you.”
“This is why I’m sometimes scared of you.” He muttered under his breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing, Mi Amor. Let’s get back inside and see what Alejandro is up to.”
~
“Small but terrible that sister of yours.” Grave believed that he still had the right for small talk as all four of them had walked the corridors.
“I’d be more worried about her than any of us, Gringo. She’s like a rabid dog to people like you.”
“What was that, Colonel?”
Graves had watched the Colonel tense at the sound of your voice. Even he was worried as he turned to have a look at you, the all too demented grin on your lips, waiting for him to fuck up. But even more dangerous was the unfazed smile on Rudy’s face as he had his arm around your shoulder—a metaphorical leash to keep you at bay.
Why the fuck was he back here in Las Almas of all places again?
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gothicflowers · 3 days
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Anon: Which COD man do you think eats pussy just to relax you? Like if you had a shit day, they don’t care about their needs they just get on their knees?
anon, I love you. And there are three characters that come to mind.
ALEX KELLER JOHN PRICE RUDY PARRA
He made it home first. You didn’t have time to hang your coat before he had you pressed against the wall in a heated kiss. Hands roaming all over.
“I missed you today, work has horrible” you whined to him as he made his way down kissing your neck. A soft sigh left your tired lips. He picks you up, hands on your ass underneath your skirt carrying you to the bedroom.
“Oh I could tell from your messages” he mumbled as his lips attacked your chest. Sucking little love bites into you.
“I want you so bad but I’m exhausted” you replied as he sat you onto the bed. Eyes desperate for him as you slowly blink tiredly.
He smirks “Oh baby, I’m not expecting anything from you. Now lay back, relax and keep those pretty legs open for me” his rough hands pull you in closer to him as his tongue drags through your soaked folds.
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shadowlali · 6 months
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auto shop
COD - Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra x fem!reader 
[18+] wc: ~ 3.1k  summary: Rudy fixes your car and you decide on a different form of payment masterlist
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warnings: NSFW, no use of Y/N nor too many details on reader’s appearance, reader can sit in Rudy's lap, some proofreading, Rudy has a motorcycle (helmet is given to reader), oral (m! and f! receiving), size kink (kinda), unprotected sex  a/n: inspired to write this after seeing @glitterypirateduck ‘s “10 days of Rudy Writing Prompt Challenge” (Prompt 2, 13). i’ve had this mechanic idea for rudy for a while and decided to finally give it a shot. enjoy :) 
A perfect day for a drive you repeat to yourself angrily, hot tears rolling down your face as you look at your unresponsive car. Seeing only stretches of endless roads and no oncoming cars, you realize how alone you are.
You try your parents and then best friend on the phone but surprisingly no one answers. The signal bars on your phone fluctuate and you begin to panic, maybe the calls aren’t going through? Probably due to the anxiety, you barely notice the sound of an approaching motorcycle. 
Rudy spots you first, seeing your hands wrapped around your middle while you lean against a car. He pulls up and that’s when you finally notice him. He notes the tears in your eyes and the watery smile you give him. Quickly parking the motorcycle, he walks over to you while reaching for the handkerchief in his jacket pocket. 
“Hey, woah. What’s wrong?” Rudy asks. 
“It’s my car, I don’t know what happened,” you manage to suppress a sob and continue, ”And no one’s picking up my calls.” 
You get the scent of cologne and leather as he hands you the handkerchief and asks for your name.  
“I’m here,” Rudy softly says, ”I’ll call my family’s repair shop and see if someone can come pick it up. How does that sound?”
You nod yes and he takes out his phone to make a call. You know of Rudy and of Los Vaqueros, who in Las Almas doesn’t? This is the first time you two actually speak, having only ever smiled at each other in passing. You feel grateful that Rudy was the one to find you, the anxiety leaving your body. 
“My dad is on his way,” he takes a look at your teary eyes before continuing, ”you want to wait here or drive up to the shop?”  
“How?” 
He smiles, ”On my bike.” 
“Wait, I — uh, are you sure? It won’t be too much trouble?” 
“No, princesa. Vente,” Rudy says as he gently takes your hand and leads you to his bike. [princess. Come here]
Your stomach does a little flip with the pet name he gives you, his big hand warm around yours. He places the helmet on your head and gives you instructions on how to get on his motorcycle. Rudy gets on the bike with ease, seemingly not worried about there only being one helmet. 
“What about you?” 
You feel bad, not only did he stop and call his family for help, but he’s also willing to give you his only helmet. 
“I’ll be fine,” he says sincerely, ”no more tears, okay?” 
You get on, swinging your leg to the other side of the motorcycle and hug him around the waist. Rudy adjusts your arms more tightly around him and takes off. 
- - - 
Rudy can tell it's your first time on a motorcycle by the way your thighs tighten around him. He doesn’t mind, feeling the heat of your body seeping through his leather jacket. He silently thanks the universe that he decided to take an afternoon ride on a different side of town. When he saw you standing alone on the secluded road, he feared the worst. 
Despite being in a precarious situation, you still managed to give him a sweet smile when you noticed him. He knows who you are, never having the courage to start a conversation but always noticing the shape of your lips and the sound of your laugh. The hardplanes of his stomach flex when he feels your hands grip his shirt at a turn. Rudy tries not to feel disappointed when you let go, reminding himself now is not the time to feel attraction.
Before you know it, you're driving up to an auto shop on the outskirts of Las Almas. In big letters at the top you see ‘Taller Mecánico Parra’ with a drawing of a little car next to it. You get off the bike and hand Rudy his helmet with a soft thank you. You stand on shaky legs, the scent of his cologne all around you and your thighs warm from being wrapped around his body. [Auto Repair Shop Parra]
He takes your hand and walks with you inside the open garage door. There’s a few people working on cars or speaking to customers, and Rudy waves but continues walking. Through a short hallway, he ushers you into a small office with windows that peer onto the floor. 
“This is your office?” you ask while pointing to the ‘Rudy’ nameplate on the desk. 
“Sí, on my days off I come in to help my dad or work on my bike. Come here, sit.” 
He points to the chair behind the desk and grabs a cold water bottle from the mini fridge by the couch. Rudy untwists the cap and urges you to take a few sips. 
“Feel better? We’ll figure it out, no te preocupes.” [don’t worry]
You give him a smile, once again grateful that he happened to be driving and stopped to help you. His name is called out in the hallway and he tells you to wait in the office and relax. You move to the couch to see your car pulled in by a tow truck. An older man, with similar features to Rudy hops out and detaches your car. 
For the next hour, you watch Rudy work. He’s since changed into black overalls that mold perfectly to the muscles on his back and arms. The way he moves with ease and looks so concentrated causes a deep pulsing to begin between your thighs. You try to ignore it, feeling guilty that you’re having these thoughts. 
Rudy turns and catches your stare, his body heating as he realizes you were watching him work. He turns back to the task at hand after giving you a quick smile. Rudy gains a sense of pride once he’s done with the car, knowing that he’s the one who saved you from the desolate road and was able to fix your car. 
Customers and employees eventually leave until it's just Rudy, his dad reminding him to lock up once he’s done. Rudy tries your car, the engine purring and the lights turning on. He gets out and motions you over, then walks to the sink to wash his hands.  
You exit the office, joy running through your body as you see it on.
“I was able to fix it, it wasn't too difficult.” 
You rush towards Rudy who’s in the process of drying his hands and give him a hug. He immediately wraps his hands around you, a soft you’re welcome murmured against your forehead. You pull back slightly and look up at him, Rudy’s breath hitching as he looks into your eyes.
You notice his eyes drop down to your lips then flicker to the soft planes of your face. In that moment you wonder what it would be like to be kissed by Rudy, his plump lips pressed against your own. Before either of you lean towards each other, the sound of voices outside startle you. You unwrap your arms around him and take a few steps back. 
He clears his throat before speaking, “Uh – I was going to ask if you wanted to take it for a test drive.” 
“Yeah, I – yeah that sounds good.” 
You wait in the passenger seat, the car now sitting idle in front of the garage. Rudy quickly locks up, turns off the lights, and changes out of his work overalls to his jeans and white shirt. He wants to return quickly to you, wanting to make sure the moment from before wasn’t something he only imagined. 
The drive is done in comfortable silence. You try not to stare at Rudy’s thick arms while he drives. One hand guides the steering wheel while the other hangs folded across the open window. 
“Thank you, Rudy,” you say softly,” I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t saved me.” 
He turns to look at you for a moment, brown eyes caressing your face before turning back to the road, ”You don’t have to thank me, I’m just happy I was the one to find you.” 
Rudy feels lightheaded, the breeze outside bringing the scent of your sweet perfume towards him. Another turn and he’s back at the auto shop, the car in perfect condition. He shuts it off as you exit the car and he tries to think of a way to have you stay around a little longer. You grab your wallet from the back seat as he rounds the front of the car. 
“How mu-” 
“No.” 
“Rudy, please. This was a lot of work and material, I’m sure. Just let me pay–” 
“No. You don’t owe me anything, princesa. I wanted to help.” 
“Is there maybe another way I can pay you?” 
You thought the question would come out more playful, but your voice came out husky and the heated look Rudy gives you makes the pulse between your legs deepen. 
“How?” Rudy asks. 
Your breathing picks up and you grow bolder, placing a hand on his chest. 
“Whatever you want.” 
“Whatever I want,” Rudy pauses, ” are you sure?” 
“Yes, I'm sure.”
Rudy places hands on your waist, bringing you closer. He leans down and presses his mouth on yours, sighing once he feels you return the kiss. You inhale, running your hands across his broad chest and molding your mouth to his. His tongue teases the seam of your lips and you open up, wanting to taste him. 
Neither of you seem to mind being out on the sidewalk where anybody could stumble across. Your mind is only on him. On the feel of his warm chest, his calloused fingers caressing the exposed skin at your waist, his tongue warm and sweet. Rudy’s the first to pull back, looking down at you with swollen lips and glazed eyes. 
“Let’s go inside, yeah?” 
You nod, Rudy quickly taking out his keys and unlocking the side door. The shop is dark, pockets of light entering through the windows from the illuminated street lamps. He pushes you to lean on the desk once back in the office and takes possession of your mouth again. 
You run your hands under his shirt and bunch it close to his shoulders. Rudy breaks away from the kiss to take off his shirt and quickly helps pull off yours. His mouth latches to the sensitive skin on your neck while you fumble with his belt and zipper. You can feel the hard bulge and lightly palm his length through his jeans. 
Rudy lets out a groan, his hands moving to unbutton your own jeans. You stop him, dropping to your knees and pulling down his pants. Your mouth waters at the sight of his hard and veiny cock. You lick a stripe from his base to the tip, leaving a wet trail of saliva. 
“Fuck, you don’t need to do that,” Rudy says as he runs his hands through your hair. 
“But I want to,” you whine. 
You open your mouth and try to fit as much of him inside. His slightly salty taste and warm skin become intoxicating to you. Rudy throws his head back at the deep pulls of your mouth and the feel of your soft hands around his base. 
More of his cock is swallowed down your throat and you begin a slow sucking motion, back and forth. Just like that, just like that he chants. You look up to see his eyes glossy from pleasure and chest heaving with ragged breaths. 
“Look at what you do to me,” He groans. 
Tears prick at the corner of your eyes from the stretch of him but you don’t care. You keep sucking, loving the grunts he makes and the way his eyes rake over your body. You feel your panties soaked almost through your jeans. Rudy can’t take it anymore. The way your pretty mouth takes him deep and how you look on your knees has him stopping your movements. 
“Get up.” 
You listen, releasing him with a pop from your mouth. He helps you stand, lips pressing against yours while he unclips your bra. His hands are rough on your skin, calloused fingers pinching your nipples. You shudder with each tug from his hands. You don’t stop him when he unbuttons your jeans, kicking off your shoes then jeans and panties. He grips your thighs and sets you on the desk. Rudy sheds his boots and jeans quickly before dropping to his knees in front of you. 
“No Rudy, it’s okay you don’t –” 
“Did I do this?” He asks while gazing at your slick pussy. 
You nod, unable to comprehend the beautiful sight of Rudy on his knees. And before you can really appreciate how beautiful Rudy looks, he stretches your thighs and swipes his tongue through your dripping folds. Your hands grip the edge of the desk and you throw your head back. 
He’s starving. Rudy drags his tongue from your opening to your sensitive clit, moaning at your taste and the sound of your moans. He adds a finger, slowly pushing into your wet heat. You gasp and squeeze around him
“How’s that, princesa? Use your words,” Rudy says. 
“It feels so good, baby,” You whimper. 
He begins a relentless pace with his fingers and tongue. Rudy curves two fingers inside of you which elicits a loud whine to fall from your lips. He smirks, sucking your swollen clit in his mouth and doing it again until you're shaking and stroking his hair. You chant his name, the only thing keeping you from falling is Rudy’s other hand gripping your thigh.
Rudy would stay on his knees forever if you let him. He feels desperate, cooing encouraging words on your skin while you fall apart. He likes the feel of your hands running through his hair and the tightening of your thighs around his face. 
You begin to rock your hips as you feel the familiar ripples spread from your core. Rudy playfully nips your button and you reach your peak. You fall backwards on the mostly cleared desk, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You keep rubbing your pussy on his face, everything too much yet not enough. He doesn’t mind, feeling you pulse around his fingers and splash his chin. He laps at your clit and thrusts his fingers inside of you until you're begging him to stop. 
“Please, ple – please, Rudy,” you manage to stutter out between hiccups. 
Rudy stops, wiping his face on your inner thigh and placing a kiss on your mound. He stands with a smirk on his face as he takes in your sweaty body and closed eyelids. You feel deliciously limp and suddenly empty. He caresses your thighs, bringing one to wrap around his waist before you get a different idea. 
“Wait, Rudy. I want to try something… Will you let me?” 
“¿Qué, princesa?” [What, princess?]
“Sit on the couch.” 
He sends you a devious smile, understanding quickly what you’re about to do. You stand on shaky legs, watching him sit on the couch and pump his cock a few times from the sight of your body. You walk over, place a knee on each side of him and hover your wet pussy over his cock. After all, you want to give him a proper thank you. 
One of your hands uses his chest as support while the other grips his thick length. You lower, teasing your entrance with his flushed tip. Rudy throws his head back on the couch, his eyes half open as they watch you. You sink down all the way, simultaneous groans escaping from both of you. 
He can’t believe how swollen and syrupy you feel. Your walls flutter and pulse around him, drawing his orgasm closer. Rudy drags a hand to your hard nipples, pinching and rolling them between his fingers. He watches your gorgeous face, entranced by the curve of your lips and the husky moans slipping from your throat. He doesn’t rush your movements, letting you go at your own pace. 
“Gorgeous,” Rudy whispers,” so fucking gorgeous.” 
Beads of sweat gather at your chest and hairline. You move faster, focused on the feel of Rudy filling and stretching you. Each bounce of your hips grinds your clit perfectly on his base. You squeeze around him and change the angle to thrust him deeper. You feel close again, rutting your hips and dragging your nails down his chest. Rudy keeps whispering sweet words to you, his fingers tugging your sensitive nipples. 
“Rudy,” you whine,” I’m close, baby.” 
“I know, princesa.” 
Rudy wraps both his hands around your waist and begins helping you ride him. He thrusts up, meeting your hips with each bounce. You fall into him and mold your mouth to his soft lips. It's sloppy, movements too fast for the kiss to land perfectly but it doesn’t matter. 
You feel the prickling at your spine and you clench around his thick cock. Your face moves to his neck and you cry out from the second orgasm. Rudy takes control, feeling you quiver and your movements becoming clumsy. He holds you close while he thrusts up, the sound of slapping filling the quiet office. He’s not far behind, the blow job you gave him earlier having him on the edge. 
“Where? Where do I finish?” 
“Insi– inside of me, Rudy,” you manage to stammer out. 
He chokes out a groan and you feel his warm release fill you. He continues thrusting, crying out your name and rubbing rough hands on your lower back. You suck the sensitive skin at his neck and squeeze around him, making sure to drain him completely. 
Rudy finishes, wrapping a hand around the side of your face to bring your lips to his. His thumb caresses your cheek while he gives you wet kisses and soft bites. Your hands wrap in his hair, pushing your body to his own. 
“Think that was the best payment I’ve ever received,” Rudy whispers. 
You laugh, ”Good to hear.” 
Rudy continues," Is there anything else you need me to fix?"
You playfully roll your eyes at him.
"I'll let you know if anything else comes up."
He places another kiss on your lips and lightly pats your outer thigh.
“How about a shower at my place and then food? ¿Qué piensas?” [What do you think?] 
You smile, ”Yes, please.” 
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random-thot-generator · 9 months
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A Patient Man
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Rudolfo ‘Rudy’ Parra x Fem Reader
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Summary: You’ve been dating Rudy for a few months and now you’re ready to take the relationship to the next level, but Rudy is a patient man and won’t let you rush this momentous occasion.
Warnings/Tags: Explicit sexual content and language, Oral- F receiving, P in V sex, soft fluffy lovemaking, No use of Y/N
(Notes: This is just soft sweet Rudy smut. Baby boy needs more love, and I’m more than happy to deliver. You can thank @sofasoap​ for inspiring this sticky sweet mess. Sorry, not sorry.)
Word Count: 3024
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It was getting late, almost eleven at night, and Rudy is still sitting next to you on your couch. His arm is around your shoulders, thumb absently stroking your arm. The television is flickering blue shadows over his face, and you can’t stop thinking about how handsome he is, and how sweet. He is a good man, a patient man, and you feel lucky to have him in your life.
You’ve been dating for almost four months, and he has been nothing but a perfect gentleman this whole time. He’s so unlike the men you’ve dated in the past, treating you like you’re something special, something precious that he treasures and holds dear. He doesn’t seem to realize that you hold him in the same regard. You’ve fallen so hard for him, and you want to take that next step, but you know Rudy will not be the one to initiate it. He is waiting for you to decide when the time is right.
You are certain the time is now. 
It’s all you were able to think about while on your date. Rudy picked you up that evening and took you out to dinner, but your mind kept drifting, your thoughts on what you hoped would come after. Worried by your odd behavior, he had asked you more than once if you were alright, which seemed to fluster you even more than you already were. You felt flushed as you stammered out weak excuses, praying he couldn’t see how nervous you really were.
When you got back from your dinner date, he walked you to your door like always, fingers tangled with yours, shoulders bumping together. You turned to him and smiled, and his eyes glowed like amber under the porch light, soft and warm and devastating. You felt your heart flutter in your chest as you made up your mind to make your move, though Rudy himself had no clue. He held you by the waist, a gentle smile on his face, waiting patiently for you to place a hand on his shoulder and lean up on your tiptoes to kiss him goodnight. Instead, you asked if he’d like to come in for awhile, since neither of you had work the next day.
“I’ve got some beers in the fridge. We can watch a movie, if you like.”
His eyes went a little wide, and his Adam’s apple bobbed, but he gave you one of his shy smiles and nodded. “Si, querida. I would like that, but only If you are sure.”
“I’m sure,” you said, feeling more confident than you had all night, and led him inside your apartment.
Now there are two open beers on your coffee table, half-empty and warm, and the two of you are sitting back on the couch, shoes off, with you leaning into his side. You’ve been like this for over an hour and the movie is halfway over, but neither one of you is really paying attention to it now, because...
Rudy has finally taken his arm from around your shoulders, lowering it to rest between the two of you. Your breath catches in your throat when he lays a tentative hand on your leg.
His hand lies just above your knee, nothing inappropriate, his touch light, even though you secretly wish he’d slide it up a little higher, squeeze your leg a little tighter. You let your knees fall open, just a little bit, and press your thigh to his, letting him know you don’t mind him having his hand on your leg at all.
You can’t help but close your eyes for a second to enjoy how warm his hand is on your skin, and you try not to think about where else you’d like him to put his warm hands, but it’s so hard not to think about it when he’s this close. It makes your heartbeat faster and your breath grow shallow, and you can feel your skin heating up— on the back of your neck, between your breasts, even the bend of your knees, and you think to yourself, when did it get so hot in here?
You wonder if Rudy thinks it’s too hot, too. Maybe you should ask if he’d like you to turn on the ceiling fan or crank up the A/C, so you glance over to ask him, but...
Oh.
Oh... just look at him.
The look on his face is really something else. Those warm brown eyes are smoldering and half-lidded, pupils already expanding. His jaw is set firm, the muscle ticking, and his lips— those soft, plush lips of his— are pressed together into a hard, thin line. He’s trying so hard to behave, to be respectful and patient, to not be that guy who’s in a hurry to get laid, but here’s the thing.
You don’t want him to behave.
So now, you put your hand on his thigh. You hear him inhale, sharp and hitched, feel his thigh flex and go hard under your hand, and when you grip it tighter, he huffs out a shaky breath and his eyes flutter shut for a moment. When he blinks them open again, the expression on his face makes your insides clench. God, he’s so beautiful. 
His fingers slide up a little higher, curl into the meat of your inner thigh, and your knees drift further apart. When he loosens his grip to caress your skin, rubbing slow strokes down to your knee then back up to your inner thigh, it drives you crazy. It’s so soothing but sensual, all at the same time, and you feel that warm tingle low in your belly, feel it slowly spread out to suffuse your lower half, heating up other parts of your body as well.
How does he get you so worked up with just a touch, you fret, but then you feel him move beside you, watch his knees spread wider as he shifts his hips. You glance over and—
You discover you’re not the only one feeling this way. You can see him smoothing his other hand over his denim-clad thigh, squirming a bit in his seat because he’s trying to re-adjust, to accommodate what’s pressing hard against the seam of his dark jeans. He exhales a long, slow breath through his nose and his eyes shut again as his hand comes to a stop and grips your thigh.
Your eyes wander to his neck where you can see his pulse fluttering beneath the skin. Before you know what you’re about, you’re leaning towards him without realizing it, the smell of his cologne, warm and enticing, filling your nose and drawing you closer. When you press your lips over his pulse point, he huffs out a breath and whispers something low and urgent in Spanish, then he’s turning his head to look at you. His body twists and shifts toward you, his hand coming up to curl around the back of your neck, his thumb stroking over your jaw as his gaze flickers down to your lips.
“Querida, what are you doing?”
You want him to kiss you. Really kiss you. All you’ve shared are those innocent kisses on your front steps. He hasn’t tried to push you for more because he wants to court you properly, but you can feel the heat behind his kisses, the restraint he wields when his lips touch yours. It’s endearing and maddening and just about the hottest thing you’ve ever seen a man do.
No more holding back, you decide. You want this, want him, and you’re tired of denying yourself. 
“Kiss me, Rudy. Please?”
The moan that falls from his lips is ragged as his arms come up and wrap around you. His hands are like brands searing into your back as he pulls you close. and oh, when he finally presses his lips to yours, it feels like flying, floating, ascending high up into the clouds. You sigh into his mouth and open for him like a flower, inviting him in to taste you.
It surprises you how well he can kiss. He’s always so shy and unassuming, so gentle and sweet, but this— this leaves you panting in his arms, moaning for more. You don’t know when you brought your arms up to twine around his neck, but they’re pulling him closer to you now, one hand pressing to the back of his neck while the other buries itself in the soft strands of his dark hair.
“Dios, cariño... You are driving me loco,” he mutters against your lips, and then he’s kissing you again, groaning as he leans into you.
Your body yields to him, lying back onto the cushions, taking his weight to bear on your chest. His hands are at your waist, clutching, grasping, kneading, wanting to move, to slide over your curves, but again, he is holding himself back, and that just will not do.
Turning your face to break the kiss, you pant out against his neck in an urgent whisper, “Touch me, Rudy. Want you to touch me.”
The sound that catches in his throat makes your belly drop in arousal. God, you want him so bad. Unable to wait any longer, you take his hands and pull them up to your chest, placing them over your breasts and holding them there.
A shuddering breath escapes his parted lips as he allows himself to finally touch you. His fingers curl around the soft globes of your breasts, his thumbs circling over your nipples on instinct, cursing under his breath when you moan at the contact and arch your back to press more firmly into his touch.
“Mierda!” he hisses before capturing your lips in another earth-shattering kiss.
Your hands have begun to wander now, too, sliding over his shoulders and back, sliding up into his hair to scrape at his scalp. He shivers in your arms, breath gusting out over your cheeks as he pulls back to look at you.
“Mi amor, wait. I—”
“I want you, Rudy. I want to be with you. Don’t you want that, too?” You don’t care that you sound desperate for him, because you are. You just want him, only him.
His eyes grow dark, a positively sinful smile stretching across his sweet face as he murmurs, “Oh, yes, querida, I want you very much, but I will not fuck you on a couch, not our first time together. I want to make love to you, in your bed.”
You blink up at him and for some reason you think you might cry. You’ve never had a man tell you he wants to make love to you before, never had anyone make you feel this valued, this special. If any doubts still lingered, they were cast aside now.
“Then take me to bed, Rudy. Make love to me.”
The smile on his face can only be described as beatific as he sighs your name and presses his forehead to yours. “As you wish, mi amor.”
You both are up now, his hand in yours as you hurry to the bedroom, eager to finish what was started on the couch. When you stop before the bed, he pulls you into his arms for another kiss. He’s in no hurry, wanting to savor the moment.
He is so careful as he removes your clothes, so patient as he lays you back on the bed, kissing you breathless as his hands and mouth move over every inch of your body with slow intention. He wants to learn where all the spots are that make you gasp and sigh and commit them to memory. You whine and mewl and plead, but he stands fast in his resolve. You will never want another man but him. He will make certain of it.
He has only managed to remove his shirt by the time he settles between your legs, his mouth hot on your sex, hands holding your thighs open as he drives you slowly insane with his tongue. You cum sobbing his name, hands buried in his hair and hanging on for dear life.
He rises above you, shushing and soothing you as you come down from your high, his lips that still taste of you coaxing you back to him. “Mi amor... Dios, you are so bonita... will you let me make love to you now?”
“Oh, God, please, Rudy...” you whimper, but he silences your pleas with another mind-melting kiss.
When he finally rises from the bed to strip off the rest of his clothes, you lie back with glittering, dazed eyes, watching this beautiful man reveal himself to you. He is stunning, his smooth brown skin gleaming in the moonlight sifting through your blinds. He reminds you of a sleek jungle cat, his body lithe and supple, Lean muscles bunch and flex as he climbs back on the bed and crawls towards you, and you feel your channel bear down hard as a fresh wave of arousal flows from your core.
“Rudy... please. I need you,” you pant out, desperate to finally feel him inside you.
“Shh, be patient, mi amor. I will take care of you. I promise,” he vows, settling himself between your thighs.
You can feel his length bobbing against your inner thigh, his seed already beaded and smearing over your skin. You wish you had thought to taste him as well, but he has taken over completely, leading you in this dance. You know he will not be distracted or swayed from accomplishing what he has set out to do.
“Look at me, querida,” he whispers, lining himself up with your entrance. “Let me see you while I make love to you.”
Eyes locked with his, your mouth falls open as he begins to ease his way forward, your channel greedily pulling him in inch by devastating inch as he finally slides home. He holds himself above you, eyes soft but blown wide with lust. Tears are already pricking at your eyes, the experience more intense than any you’ve ever had before.
“Do not hold back, mi amor. I want to hear how good I make you feel. Will you do this for me?”
You can only nod, hands grasping to pull him down for another kiss as he begins to move slowly. It’s the gentlest of rocking, slow, almost lazy in execution, but it is sending you, leaving you reeling and calling out his name in breathy, wavering cries.
Rudy uses his whole body to make love to you, hips and shoulders rolling, arms and legs flexing as he carries you higher and higher up to that peak. You can do nothing but give him the same, your body writhing and lifting to meet him, thrust for thrust. You can feel your thighs begin to tense as the pressure in your core builds to an unbearable point. Tears are flowing freely down your cheeks, hands buried in his hair, heels locked over the backs of his thighs as his strokes deepen and increase.
He is murmuring to you in both English and Spanish, words tumbling out of his mouth as his thrusts intensify even more. He is still staring deep into your eyes, watching as he takes you apart. He groans at the sight of you and bites his lip, chest and cheeks flushed with his exertion. Nearing his own end, he moves a hand down between you, pressing his fingers onto your throbbing nub. “Cum for me, cariño. Por favor... pl-please, mi amor!” he gasps out.
His fingers circle your clit only three times before you shatter around him, throwing your head back as you keen at the ceiling. Your entire body has locked around him, channel clamped down hard enough to slow his thrusts. With one final hissed curse, he spills his seed inside you, his back arching as he too throws his head back, baring his corded throat. You cling to him, panting and sobbing his name, unable to control the tremors that course through your body to leave you a trembling, boneless mess.
As the last of the aftershocks quake through your core, you fall back to the mattress, spent and shaking. Rudy soon follows, falling to your side before drawing you into his arms. He too is shaking and panting for breath, the experience just as intense for him as it was for you.
Neither of you speak for several minutes, quiet and at peace as you both drift back down to earth. Your eyes are closed, cheek pressed to his chest, a blissful smile curling your lips.
“Are you alright, querida?”
You hum and nod, stretching in his arms. “Perfect.” You lift your head to peer into his eyes. “You’re perfect.”
He huffs, a slight blush rising to tinge his cheeks. “I had a good partner,” he teased, voice and eyes soft. “That makes all the difference.” He hugged you to him, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I think we are perfect for each other, no?” he whispers, a hopeful note in his voice.
You raise your head, smile beaming, and press your lips to his. Shifting your body, you throw your leg over to sit astride his hips. Smiling down at him, you bite your lip. “I hope it was worth the wait,” you murmur.
He smiles up at you, hands caressing your thighs. “Oh, yes, mi amor. It pays to be a patient man. You have given me everything I could want.” He then grabs your hips and turns, bringing you beneath him once more. Settling back between your thighs, he shocks you by sliding back into your heat, fully erect again. “But I must beg for your patience, now, mi amor. I have waited a long time for you, and I am far from finished.”
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(End notes: @sofasoap​ I hope I did your Rudy justice. Love ya, sweets!)
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homicidal-slvt · 1 year
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"She's Trouble" PT. 2
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Part 1
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Rodolfo Parra x F!Reader
Femme Fatale|Y/N
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Warnings: Smut, Jealous!Rodolfo, Slight Degradation, P in V Sex.
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Your finger tips dug into his back and moans fell past your lips, his teeth nipping against your neck, you could feel every hickey he placed upon your skin while his hips rutted into you.
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You and Rudy were at a bar just having a few drinks, a little harmless fun after so much stress recently. While you were at the bar you began to playfully flirt with Alejandro, it was all just a joke and neither of you took it seriously, however you somehow failed to notice the searing stare Rodolfo gave you.
His knuckles turning white as he gripped his glass, he wasn't one to get jealous and usually he could control himself, but seeing you flirt with his best friend when you were there with him...
It awoke something in him.
Next thing you knew he had grabbed you by the wrist, Alejandro sat there shocked watching as his usually calm and collected friend pulled you out of the bar.
"You really know how to bring out the worst in me, mi amor..."
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Now here you were pinned beneath him, his hands on your hips as his weight pushed you down into the bed, he was so deep inside you it had you seeing stars.
"Did you really think you could flirt with my best friend and get away with it?"
He growled out as his thrusts were unforgiving, you knew his fingers were going to leave bruises but honestly it excited you.
"You're my filthy little slut aren't you...?"
He hummed softly as he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, all you could do in response was moan. He didn't seem satisfied with your answer and bit down on your shoulder, just hard enough for you to feel it.
"Answer the question..."
His tone was so stern, something he usually reserved for missions, something he never used while making love to you... But this wasn't really making love right now, this was more so fucking your brains out.
"Oh god- yes- Rudy!~"
He smirked as he planted more kisses along your shoulder and neck, one of his calloused hands sliding down to massage your clit, keeping his pace nice and steady hitting your g-spot.
"Rudy-"
You managed to whine out and you could hear the cockiness in his voice when he spoke.
"Go ahead cariño... Cum all over me."
It felt like shock waves through your body, the knot in your core finally snapping as you released, he kept going though as you rode out your high. He managed to reach his end soon after, filling up the condom he was wearing.
After pulling out he took in the sight of you, his softer side slowly returning. The condom was thrown away and then you were scooped up into his arms, being carried bridal style to the bathroom as you giggled happily.
"Mi vida.... You are such a trouble maker. I'm going to run us a bubble bath."
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{As an apology for not writing smut the first time- here ya go! Lmao I hope the anon that requested the first one sees this.}
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{More Content}
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The Good Death -- (Rudy/FMC)
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Rodolfo Parra x Female OC
Sergeant Major Rodolfo Parra finds himself in the middle of the Caatinga forest of Brazil, looking for a stolen weapons cache. When he comes across a beautiful hitch-hiker wandering alone in the middle of the night, he gets a little more from the village than he wants to.
TW: mentions of rape, dubious consent, femdom, light bondage, edgeplay, kidnapping, canon-typical violence, hauntings
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January summers in the Caatinga forest were as brutal as they came. It was an unforgiving landscape, full of cactus and scrub brush, layered with the sharpest shards and rock faces, designed to cut and slice. To make matters worse, the weather was deadly. The Caatinga would climb to almost 37 degrees celsius at the sun’s cruel zenith, and it would drop only ten degrees cooler by midnight. 
Sergeant Major Rodolfo Parra was nothing but sweaty. He could feel it between his toes, under his arms, beneath his balls — he was losing pounds of water a day and struggling to drink enough to rehydrate himself. Training in these conditions was brutal, but he wasn’t here for the Exército Brasileiro; he was on a reconnaissance mission.
According to Los Vaqueros’ intel, the Las Almas cartel had accepted a weapons’ cache from China, shipped through Brazil, and set to arrive at the Port of Houston in just thirty days. Rudy’s mission was to locate and tag the cache, and he was running out of time. 
Being asked to find something lost in the Caatinga was like being tasked with finding it in Hell, although, Rudy thought, Hell may have been milder.
Arial arrays had helped him narrow down his search to a few key hiding places, but it wasn’t just the terrain that was unforgiving. Beneath the forest lay a complex network of caves and tunnels, as dangerous as they were beautiful, and searching through them would be almost impossible. 
But, Rudy wasn’t one to give up so easily. He was heading to the village of Nossa Senhora da Boa Morte. There was a local guide who had seen some unmarked crates near a gorge in the area, and he had agreed to lead Rudy to them. The drive out to the village was long, pitch black, and full of foreign sounds. Rudy missed his well-known mountains of Monterrey, and he was anxious to be back with his team. 
Suddenly, his truck lurched to a stop, and it felt like he had hit something big. 
“A la verga!” Rudy grunted, slamming on the brakes. 
He wrenched open the door with a loud creak and went out to check the damage. He kept one hand on his gun just to be safe. There was nothing in the road. He circled the truck just to be sure. All of his tires were in tact, and they all seemed free of damage, so he got back in the car and shut the door with a loud bang. 
As soon as he did, something flashed, white and sharp, in the road. It was almost like lightning, but there was no rain and no sound. He could only hear the idling of his vehicle. As he stared at the road illuminated by his headlights, Rudy tried to focus his vision. He thought he could see something just in the shadow of where his headlights couldn’t reach. 
He drove forward, slowly, inching his way up to the object, only to discover that it was a human form. A woman. She was facing away from his truck, staring out into the blackness of the Caatinga, unmoving. Her dress was long and white like a bride’s, whipping around her body in the night wind. 
Rudy rolled down his window, trying out what little Brazilian Portuguese he had,
“Ei! Precisa ajuda, senhora?”
She didn’t answer him. He decided to stay in the truck, crossing himself before slowly driving up to her. He kept his window cracked and pulled out his gun, steadying his nerves.
The woman turned to look at him, and she seemed… unnatural, somehow. She was beautiful, that much was certain. In fact, Rudy wasn’t sure he’d ever seen such beauty. 
“Precisa de uma carona? A ride? Do you need help?”
Perhaps she didn’t understand his terrible Portuguese accent. He tried to ask her in English, and she smiled. It was unnerving, but Rudy didn’t feel threatened. He pointed to the other side of the truck and unlocked the door. She walked around the front of the truck, the white of her linen dress blinding him, and she climbed in beside him. He kept his gun in his lap. Rudy may not have felt like he was in danger, but he certainly wasn’t trusting. 
They rode in silence for the rest of the journey. He had tried to ask her things, and he wasn’t sure where he was supposed to be taking her, but he planned to ask his guide to translate when he got to the village. 
It felt like hours had passed, but they finally made it. Rudy pulled into the small ranch where his contact was located, and he stepped out of the truck. He knocked on the small wooden door of the house and waited, angling himself so he could still see the woman in the passenger seat. 
The guide came to the door, and Rudy recognized him from the video calls.
“Boa noite, meu amigo. I’m Rodolfo Parra with Los Vaqueros.”
“Claro. Good evening, Senhor Parra. I’m João. Welcome to our village. Come in, come in.”
João’s English was excellent, so Rudy didn’t continue with his Portuguese, but he did ask for help, 
“Sorry, can you help me translate? I seemed to have picked up a hitch-hiker and —”
“A what?” João seemed confused. 
“A rider. She is in the truck…” Rudy turned around and found no one there. 
She was gone.
“There was a woman…” Rudy ran back to the truck and opened the doors, looking for her. 
“A woman, you said? Was she wearing a white dress?” João asked in a knowing tone.
Rudy turned back to him, his eyes glassy and wide,
“Yes, but…”
“You showed her a kindness, amigo. Perhaps she will show one back to you.”
“Who is she?” Rudy asked, taking his bags into the tiny ranch house.
João shut the door behind him and ushered him inside. They sat at the kitchen table together, and the old wooden chair creaked loudly, complaining about Rudy’s heavy weight, his muscles and bones not meant for small farm chairs. 
João took a bottle of cachaça from the pantry and poured some for himself and his guest, telling Rudy the story,
“She is a bruxa. Long ago, back during the times when there was still conflict, much before either of us could celebrate um dia da Independência, there was a beautiful woman. She was so beautiful, some say she had been blessed by the Virgim Maria herself. She fell in love with a native man, but he was Tupi, not Portuguese. So, thinking she was fair game, a priest raped her on her wedding day in the chapel on the hillside.”
“Madre de Dios…” Rudy drank his wine, only half-believing this ghost story. The woman in his truck had been very real. She had smelled like sweat and dried herbs. She was real; she had to be.
“She died, and her Tupi lover was slain. The next night, the chapel burned to the ground with the priest inside. Ever since then, this village has respected her as an omen. She does not appear often, but when she does, we make sure to heed her warnings.”
“What warning does she have for me, then?” Rudy asked.
“Eu não sei, senhor. But, whatever it is, you’d better listen.”
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A week passed like a slow train, long and heavy, the heat and the pressure billowing around Rudy and all of his attempts to locate the cache. He was running out of options. There was one final location he’d not yet checked, but it was nearly inaccessible. Rudy asked João how to traverse the ridge that led to the potential site, but he wouldn’t allow it.
João shook his head,
“No, you cannot go there. It is too dangerous, even for you who knows the mountains well.”
“I have to. This is my last chance,” Rudy insisted.
“You’d be better off coming in from above. Use your expensive drone! I can draw you a map up, but you won’t be able to come back down. The rocks are too brittle. No one has survived.”
“I don’t have a choice, amigo.”
João sighed, but he produced a map anyway. He also loaded Rudy down with supplies and equipment, in hopes that some of it would keep him alive. 
It took Rudy most of the morning to even reach the first flat part of the large ravine. He decided not to make camp, eager to complete the climb. Unfortunately, it was near dark until he made it to the next stopping point, a small cave cut out in the side of the large, gray gorge. 
There was something so beautiful about how haunting it was in the Caatinga, but Rudy couldn’t help but feel like he was being watched the whole time he made his ascent. He camped for the night, and tried to rest as much as he could. 
When he awoke, he was shocked by his surroundings. The daylight revealed that it was not a small cave at all but the opening to a wide, hellish pit. If he had rolled over in the night, he may not have woken up at all. Rudy crossed himself, gathering his gear and heading back to the ridgeline. 
The cache was there, right where he thought it would be, and right where João had spotted it as well. They must have used a helicopter to drop it in, and Rudy saw the large metal clip had been cut instead of detached. How they planned to get it out, he had no idea. They’d dropped it in a hell of a hurry, though.
Rudy planted the tracking devices, hiding them as best he could, and then surveyed his downward climb. He tried to get his footing on the craggy rockface, balancing himself on the sharp shards, but to no avail. Once he started to apply his weight to his foot, the rock would crack and crumble beneath his toes. 
Hours went by, and he’d barely made it fifty yards down the cliff. It would be nightfall soon, and if he was stuck out there climbing in the dark, his chances of survival were low. The climbing anchors were unstable, and he’d needed too many of them, making the cliff unpredictable and unsafe. 
Rudy spotted a shallow, flat ledge just below him. If he could just make it there, he might be able to rest long enough to try again. 
He placed another anchor, and when he released his grip, he fell. The last thing he saw was the carabiner snap as he tumbled into the darkness.
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“Ah, you are awake,” a voice called out to him in the darkness. 
Rudy tried to open his eyes. His ears were ringing, and it felt like a hammer was pounding into his head. He was in agony, and for some reason, immobile.
He tried to sit up, his eyes adjusting to the light. But, he was tied down. As he regained more of his consciousness, he realized that he was trapped on a long, wooden table. Above him, old lanterns glowed dimly in the night, and there were wooden beams that arched upwards into a high ceiling. 
Rudy gasped when he felt a cool compress soak down the back of his neck. It was her, he knew it. He could smell her scent; that sage and vanilla. The woman in white… the bruxa.
Her hands traveled up his spine, pressing the wet cloth hard against the base of his head and then around to the scratchy stubble on his jaw. Rudy felt the sting of adrenaline rush through his body as his eyes followed her, wide with anticipation. She’d stripped him bare, and his skin glowed in the low firelight, illuminating shining scars and old tattoos. As she circled him, stalking around him, she traced the outlines of them; his Los Vaqueros tattoo on his arm, the Virgin Mary on his back. She never took her hands off of his body until finally, she came around the front of him so he could see her in full view.
“What’s your name?” Rudy asked, trying to buy himself some time. His captive training kicked into high gear. 
“I have had many names. First, their god named me Eve. Then, his people named me Lilith. Then, their children named me as a demon. What would you like to name me, Rodolfo Parra?”
“Whatever you want. Please, let me go,” he bargained with her, looking around for anything useful.
“You will go…” She grabbed his face roughly, “When I am done with you.”
“Okay,” Rudy breathed in a low whisper, his voice husky and dark, “Okay. Whatever you want.”
She let out a warm hum of approval, seeming to enjoy his surrender. She smiled, kissing him full on the lips, letting him taste coconut and cinnamon and that same familiar sage that haunted him in his truck. 
“You are what I want, Rodolfo… What will you say to that? Can I still have… whatever I want?”
Rudy swallowed, his spit thick in his mouth, tasting her flavor as it slid down his throat. He nodded,
“Y-yes.”
She didn’t respond with her words. Instead, she mounted him on his wooden altar and all around him, hundreds of candles suddenly came alight, dousing the room in an orange, unearthly glow.
He gasped, and she slapped her palm across his mouth, stopping his breath from escaping. His eyes tracked her every movement. Rudy had never been so captivated by a beauty like hers. It had been a while since any woman had even touched him, and he couldn’t deny that he was hungry for whatever she had in store for him — no matter how occult it was. 
“Just a little fun, meu amor. You honored me by taking me back to my village. So many men drive right by, fearful of a woman… or what they may do to one… but not you,” she pet his cheek softly, releasing his mouth, “Were you not afraid?”
Rudy shook his head, following her lips with his, letting her kiss him languidly. He sighed,
“No, I am not afraid of you.”
“Many are,” she moved her mouth down his throat, planting little warm kisses across his jugular vein, over his bulging Adam’s apple, down his chest matted with hair, sweaty and filthy from his climb. 
He tugged at the straps across his wrist, threatening to touch her, his desire building, 
“I don’t scare easy, bella.”
She laughed at him, but there was no malice in it. If anything, she seemed amused. Then, to Rudy’s sudden shock, she began to rub the wetness between her legs back and forth over his nearly-hard cock, smearing herself all over him. She was still in her dress, but because of the candlelight behind her, Rudy was treated to a nearly transparent view through it. 
She dragged her soft folds up and down his dick, slicking his swollen head and sliding back down his generous shaft, pulling and pushing at his velvety, uncut skin. His breathing became more than labored; he was feral. He wanted to touch her so badly. 
“Porfa, bella.” Please, pretty girl. He begged her, “Dejame tocarte.” Let me touch you.
“You are touching me, Rodolfo Parra,” she laughed again, throwing her head back and humping herself across him at a quicker pace, torturing him with her softness, feeling the way he shamelessly bucked his hips up toward her. 
Then, she lifted away from him, leaving him only to feel the cool rush of air as it skated across his sensitive skin.
He gasped,
“No, please…”
“Shh, shh, shh…” She ran her hand down his cheek again and kissed his mouth, letting him explore her tongue with his, tasting each other in sloppy, lurid movements.
“Please, please…” He couldn’t help but beg her. He was so close, and she had yanked him away from the edge. 
One of her hands snaked its way between her legs, reaching for him to jerk him off. The other pulled down the top of her dress, exposing her breasts to him. She wasn’t sure if the face he was making came from her touch or her display, but she didn’t care. She leaned forward just enough for him to barely reach her nipple, taking just the peak into his mouth, straining for more. 
Then, he let his long tongue loll out of his jaws and loop itself around her tight nub, teasing her and making her gasp from her own pleasure. 
Every time he would get close to the edge, he could feel his cock swell with pressure, setting itself up to shoot its heavy load, she would immediately stop everything she was doing. Eventually, he became a grunting, whimpering mess. Everything she did turned him on. She licked down the center of his chest and it made his cock twitch. When she kissed him on the neck, he thought he might come from just that if she didn’t have such a cruel grip around his cockhead. 
Finally, she lowered herself onto him fully, letting his head pop gently into her soaking hole, and then… she just settled herself there. She didn’t rock forward or back; there was nothing but infinite warmth cascading over him like the fires of all of the candles around him. He was burning alive within her core. 
“Mi amor! Porfa!” He whined, his voice high and ragged, steeped in pure desperation. 
Each chance he got to thrust up inside of her, he took, greedily. But, every bit of reprieve was doled out to him by her, his new master. She was in full control of his pleasure, nearly to the point of pain. His balls were tucked so tight up against his body, he thought they would crush themselves into nothing, desperate to be emptied.
“Do you need to come, Rodolfo?”
“Yes! Please!” Rudy thrashed at his bindings, trying in vain to fuck her with what little leverage that he could, making little noises of discomfort and defeat as she held him steady, “Mmgh, ungh… please… ahh…”
“That’s too bad…” She pretended pity with her tone, removing him from her body and laughing at his screaming protests.
“No! No, please! Don’t… don’t leave me. Porfa, bella, it aches…”
“Your complaints are so loud, tsk tsk… Is that any way to treat your bride?” She chided him playfully, showing him a sinister smile before turning her hips and positioning them over his mouth. 
She slowly lowered herself down onto his lips, and he began to eat her with a feral passion. Still, he was begging. By working his jaw against her as fervently as he could, he was making a case for himself, trying to show her that he would be good for her, that he could make her come. He shoved his tongue against her flesh with a furious need, fucking her as best he could with it and tasting himself on her skin. 
Rudy could feel her muscles clenching for him, and her skin warmed. Then, he heard her delicious cries, shouted out in complete abandon, echoing across the high ceilings and reverberating back to him, trapping him in a cycle of her pleasure. It was so overwhelming that he felt himself falling over his edge as well, coming into nothing, heavy ropes of his own fluids pooling onto his chest and belly, settling in his navel, sticking in his hair. 
When he awoke, he did so with a start. He found himself back in the farmhouse, the sun beaming through the filthy windows. João was standing at the foot of his bed in shock. 
Rudy was unsettled by his presence, but could only stare back in confusion. 
“Amigo…” João whispered, “You are alive?”
Rudy swung his legs over the edge of the bed, finding himself completely dressed. He turned to João and asked him, 
“What happened? What day is it?”
“You… well, you were lost. It had been three days, and we thought the worst. Your friend, Colonel Vargas is here now to collect your things.”
Alejandro stood in the doorway, his eyes red and full of a particular sort of fear and relief all at the same time. He pulled Rudy up into his arms,
“Hermano! What happened?”
“There was a woman… she…” Rudy tried to explain, but he couldn’t. He was having a hard time even remembering what had happened to him. 
But then, he could taste her. He could smell her. He could feel her skin as it slid across his. Everything about her surrounded him until he was dizzy.
“Ah! A woman? Well, that explains it. Vamos, you have a fuckin’ mountain of paperwork, pendejo. Haha! A woman… Dios mio…” Alejandro laughed his way out into the hall.
João and Rudy stayed in the small bedroom, staring at each other, knowing the truth yet unable to speak it.  
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deadbranch · 10 months
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The Dying Sun:  The Road to Reynosa (Part I)
Author: @deadbranch
Pairing: Rodolfo Parra x fem!OC (3rd person)
Summary:  Prequel to The Killing Moon (TKM) series.  Alejandro notices a growing problem with the protagonist; he doesn't want Rodolfo to be caught in the crossfire.
Word Count:  3.9k
Warnings:  18+ MDNI, SMUT***, suggestive content, grief, mention of blood/gore, canon-typical violence, tobacco use, fluff, pining, angst with a capital A, flirting, language you wouldn’t use in polite company, protagonist is an American officer from Texas
A/N:   Various POV’s but mostly that of the protagonist.  This chapter spans 4 years to 2 years prior to the events of TKM.  Protagonist is 23-25 spanning the events from Ghost’s death through when Vargas decides to mentor her.  Alejandro is 33-35, Rodolfo is 22-24.  Soap doesn’t show up until the next part.
Previous A/N:  Feedback is appreciated.  I try to avoid overlap with canon events. Thoughts are bolded and italicized.  Flashbacks are italicized large sections of text, not bolded.  Dialog in Spanish is written as English bracketed with “<” and “>”.
***Elaboration on smut content:  Descriptions of female & male anatomy, vague/poetic descriptions of p in v sex, unprotected sex.  Please notify @deadbranch if you believe more warnings should be added.
SERIES MASTERLIST
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CH 9:  THE ROAD TO REYNOSA (PART I)
[Year 1 under contract with Vargas, 4 years prior to events of The Killing Moon]
“<You should eat dinner, turn in for the night.>” Colonel Vargas’s voice crackles across her comm.
Sirena shifts her pelvis and stretches her legs, her physical body long forgotten during her sustained focus on the objective.  Her cheek has the indentation of her rifle stock, her vision blurry as she pulls herself away from her scope.
She feels the light bending toward her, the telltale buzzing electricity moving over her skin, her vision beginning to tunnel.
Control the fade.  Accept your circumstances.  Accept the rules.  Accept your purpose.  Control the light.
The words make her eyes sting as she rubs her temples.  She can’t bring herself to say them without pain, profound and acidic, her lungs seeming to fill with tears and choked air.  Not since Ghost…
The leaves are green and the feather’s gray.
She repeats the words Vicarious gave her in the dark.  Her vision slowly begins to normalize, the buzzing electric current dissipating into the quickly cooling evening air.
“<Sirena?>”
“<Yeah.  Vargas.  The target’s been holed up for the last five hours.  He’ll come out sometime, and when he does…”>
“<No.  Go eat.  He likely fucked that new whore of his and he’s sleeping it off as we speak.  Rodolfo will cover the objective until midnight, then Catalina will take over until dawn.  Get some rest.>”
She doesn’t reply as she continues to rub her temples.
“<Now.>”
“<Yes, sir.>”
Sirena rolls onto her back, leaving her rifle leaning on its bipod.  Dinner consists of canteen water and the other half of her MRE.
The leaves are green and the feather’s gray.
“<Sirena...>” Rodolfo’s voice fills her ear and would’ve startled her were it not for the preamble of static when he reopened their private channel.
“<What?>” Her response comes out more sharply than she’d intended.  His hesitant silence reminds her that he’s likely weighing his next words carefully.  Initially intimidated by her when she arrived at the Nogales airstrip, Rodolfo very quickly became fond of her, and she of him.
Her insistence upon wearing the skull balaclava didn’t deter him from seeking her out between missions, during their off-hours at Las Almas.  He’s one of the few who’ve seen her without it.
“<I miss you.>” He states plainly.  She sighs deeply before pressing her PTT button.
“<You don’t know me.  Stay focused.>” She lets go of the button and continues eating.
Covering an objective in El Paso from a rooftop in Juarez has its advantages.  There’s a comfortable distance between Sirena and the target.  Between Sorceress and the memories of Ghost.
She’ll never be Sorceress again.  She died when Ghost drew his last breath.
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[Year 2]
“<Dinner’s ready.  You should join us.>”
Vargas watches Sirena as her shoulders tense.  She’s been staring at the northern horizon as the sun sets to her left, just as she does every evening she spends at the villa.  She eats alone in the guest house.
He decides to change tactics.  As he approaches Sirena on her right side, she turns to face him.  The setting sun creates a corona of light around her shadowed figure.
She removes the balaclava, her recently shorn scalp revealing a collection of scars that shine in the waning light.  Alejandro suppresses a wince as he considers her past.  A great deal has happened since he met Sirena in Division’s deep tank, and even then he held fear in his heart for the deal he was making with the most dangerous organization in human history.
A deal with the devil, for the services of an angel called Venganza.
“<Sirena,>” he begins slowly, the curiosity in the back of his mind creeping to the forefront as he ponders how events could have happened very differently.  “<Why did you agree to come here?  Your contract dissolved when Archangel folded.>”
The snick of a lighter illuminates her face as she lights a cigarette.  Smoke billows softly into the evening breeze as the temperature drops.
“<It was something to do.  And I honor my word.>” She takes a deep drag and exhales through her nostrils.
The bright corona around her fades as the sun sinks below the horizon.  The regal mystique in her features gives way to cold reality.  Sirena’s eyes appear slightly sunken with lack of sleep.  Her previously athletic frame has noticeably atrophied with stress and undernourishment.  She still physically outperforms most of his men, but she looks like she’s two meals away from illness.
“<Please.  Eat with the others.  It may be good for them to see you...>”
“<No,>” she replies abruptly.  When she realizes her tone, she flicks her cigarette away and pulls the balaclava back over her head. “<Thank you, sir, but I’ll be eating alone as I have been.  The men don’t need to see me do anything mortal.  I kill.  That’s all they need to know.>”
Vargas sighs and switches to English.  “This is unnecessary.” He doesn’t need to elaborate for her to know what he means.  She looks at him with the dry boredom of assumed immortality and the exhaustion of an uphill mission.
“You want your enemies to run in fear.  Those who remain to stand against you will die.  They have to believe they cannot win.  And they are a superstitious lot.” Her jaw sets firmly as she crosses her arms over her chest.
He knows she’s right.  Sirena’s eyes glow faintly as starlight begins to illuminate the sand as the final radiance of day retreats behind the ridge demarcating Alejandro’s compound from the surrounding countryside.
“Come inside, please.  It’s getting cold.  We’ve much to discuss before Jueves Santo.”
She nods and follows Vargas across the sandy scrub toward the villa.
The windows seem illuminated with a welcome warmth that speaks to his intentions but reminds him of the inferno awaiting him at the end of the road.
May God forgive me in my final hours, for man does not understand what I’ve done.
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She looks up as she hears a knock at the door.
Rodolfo’s standing in a pool of light on the guest villa veranda, a covered dinner tray in hand.
She sighs and lets him in.  As she closes the door behind him, he shivers as the cold night air that followed wraps around him in the foyer.  He smiles awkwardly and moves around her to the dining room that faces the veranda.
It’s only then that she realizes there are two covered plates on the tray.
Without a word, she retrieves two bottles of mineral water from the kitchen and joins Rodolfo.
He looks different without his usual fatigues, without the equipment.  His hair is combed differently, his face scrubbed clean of the desert grime they’re both covered in daily.  Absently she acknowledges that she must appear differently to him as well.  Scrubbed clean, no balaclava, clothed only in a long-sleeved cotton shirt and jeans.
His eyes briefly cut downward toward her breasts as they move subtly under the fabric.  He’s not accustomed to seeing her without her tactical web.  She knows her nipples are hard, but she’s unsure if the cold air that followed Rodolfo is at fault or if it’s because of…Rodolfo.
“<We should eat.  Before it gets cold.>” His eyes find hers almost reluctantly, the way they did when they first met in Nogales.
“<Why didn’t you drop off the tray?  You could have eaten with the others.>”
Rodolfo seems stung by her words.  “<I didn’t want you to eat alone again.>”
“<Did Vargas send you?>”
She doesn’t regret asking, but his facial expression elicits a pang in her heart.
He repeats himself in English, with slight annoyance.  “I didn’t want you to eat alone…” He startles when she reaches across the table to place her hand over his.
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Rodolfo holds her tightly against him.  His right hand rests against her belly, his left cupping her breast through her thin shirt.   She sighs and tips her head back against him, his lips exploring the side of her neck.  She turns in his arms and grazes her thumbs over the sides of his face as she looks up at him.  He smiles as he gazes back at her.
“<May I call you Luz?>” He asks in a voice that reminds her of the breeze when she’s in the wilderness, when it’s all that moves and the only sound for miles.  Her only company and her only witness if she fails to return.
“<Why that name?>” she asks as she watches his mouth move.
“<Because when I look at you, you’re the sun.  Sunlight.  If I stare at you too long, like the sun, it hurts.  But I need you.  I need you, Luz.>”
He blushes.  “<I know that’s awkward sounding.  I’m sorry.  I can’t continue calling you Sirena.  That’s not you…you are not La Sirena of legend.  You are not my doom…>”
She pulls him in for a kiss.  He yields as though he’d been waiting for her to take control.  When she pulls back, he breathes unevenly as she strokes his jawline.
“<You may call me anything you wish.  As long as you always look at me the way you are now.>” She smiles gently, her eyes tracing his features as though memorizing them.
“<Like how…?>” He seems almost bashful as he looks down between them before focusing on her mouth.
“<Like you love what you see.>”
His breath catches in his throat as though he’s been found out.
“<I didn’t think you’d notice.>” He smiles self-consciously.
“<You deserve better than me.  But yes…your adoring gaze is difficult to miss.>” She smiles subtly as her fingers play with the top button of his shirt.
“<I’m sorry…if I’ve made you uncomfortable.  And this is so very unprofessional, I know…>” he rambles before she interrupts.
“<We’re out of uniform, and it’s after hours.  So…let’s do things that people do…when they’re out of uniform.>”
His eyes widen as she takes him by the hand into the bedroom.  She walks backward, watching his expression change as he both eagerly and reluctantly follows her into the warm light of the room in which she normally sleeps.  He blushes again.
She asks him why he’s blushing.  He doesn’t reply, but instead holds her face gently in his hands as he kisses her against the foot of the bed.  Rodolfo whispers that he’s dreamt of this for a long time.
“<I thought that I scared you in Nogales,>” she gasps between kisses.
“<You did.  You still do.>” Rodolfo smiles nervously as he unbuttons his shirt, his hips still pinning her to the bed as she pulls her own shirt over her head.  Rodolfo's shirt joins hers on the floor.
She gasps as she sees that he’s covered in tattoos.  His chest, abdomen, upper arms, all of it.  He laughs shyly as he backs up so he can turn to reveal his back, also covered in ink.
“<I never would have guessed…>” She muses aloud, reaching out to touch the gorgeous tangle of roses running down the length of his back to the right of his spine.  “<Was this for a woman you love?>”
“<Women.  Each rose is for one of the women in my family.>” Rodolfo turns to face her.  He points to the tattoo over his heart.  “<This is the most recent work.>”
She tilts her head as she gazes at perhaps the most beautiful representation of the sun she’s ever seen.  “<It’s beautiful.  When did you get it?>”
He blushes again, appearing as though embarrassed.  His body language changes as he takes a seat next to her on the bed, his hands clasped as he leans his elbows on his knees.
Luz turns to face him, her palm against his jaw.  “<Look at me.  Please.>”
He straightens and turns to look at her as she scoots closer, her shin pressed against the outside of his thigh.
“<I got it a few weeks ago.  Two days after…you saved me at Piedras Negras.>” His voice sounds small and regretful at the end.  It breaks her heart.
“<Come here.>” She wraps her arms around him, the side of his face against her beating heart.  His arms find their way around her as his fingers rest between the indentations of her ribs.
“<Luz…>” He leans back and looks at her carefully and with startled concern.  “<…you need to eat more.  Hey, hey.  Look at me.  You need to eat at every meal.  If you’re not sick now, you will be soon.>”
She sighs, her face going blank.  “<Are you sure the colonel didn’t send you?>”
Rodolfo huffs out a guilty laugh.  Before they realize it, they’re both giggling, their hands tentatively touching each other.  As their laughter and smiles fade, his hands touch her gently, reverently.  His thumbs brush over her nipples.  She gasps and closes her eyes as she arches into his touch.
“<We…don’t have to do anything…>” His fingers linger against her belly before he lets his hand drop to the blanket beneath them.
“<I know.  But I want to.>”
After the words leave her lips, Rodolfo claims her mouth with his.  He pulls her onto his lap, months of longing flowing through his veins and into every press of his lips against hers.  He gasps when she opens her mouth and eagerly accepts the touch of his tongue.
Fingers fumble at waistbands and zippers as they remove their remaining garments.  Rodolfo blushes as he mutters against her skin, asking if there’s a chance he could get her pregnant.  She assures him that he can’t, that the CIA made their archangel unable to conceive.
A mix of relief and sadness swirls in the depths behind his eyes.  It’s not lost on her that he’s the first man she’s been with to seem concerned about conception, regardless of the circumstances for which he may have hoped.
She crawls up the length of the bed and lays back against the pillows, inviting him to join her.  Whatever prior doubt he had dissipates as he follows her and settles into the cradle of her pelvis, her thighs flanking him warmly and tightly.
“<I want to just kiss for a while.>” Rodolfo says with a nervous reluctance that causes her to look concerned.  Hurriedly he clarifies, “<I’ve done this before, it’s just that I want to enjoy kissing you before…your mouth can’t reach mine because of my height.>”
Her heart melts as she holds him tightly.  “<We can just kiss.  Here...>” She pushes gently against his chest and convinces him to sit back on his heels.  “<…at least come around to the side, we can kiss…and you can touch me...>”
As he lays next to her and they resume kissing, she guides his hand between her legs and shows him how she likes it.  She undulates her hips against his hand as he struggles to kiss her with any amount of concentration.  He gasps and pulls back long enough to give her an exasperated look.  He resumes kissing her, but not before nipping her bottom lip in reproach as his fingers go to work with almost hostile fervor.
Luz’s cries are muffled as Rodolfo keeps her mouth busy.  Before long, he can’t stand it anymore.
“<May I?”>
“<YES.>”
He shifts his body over hers and aligns himself with her opening.  His eyes meet hers as though asking for permission one last time.
“<Do it.  Please.”> she blurts out as her thighs tremble around him.
They gasp simultaneously as he surges forward, embedding half his length into her before he holds back, his hips shaking as she clings to his shoulders and places little kisses across his chest, against the brilliant sun above his heart.
She murmurs reassurances against his skin to keep going, to go deeper.  Luz cries out as he hilts her.  He whispers something she can’t quite make out, his eyes shut in a strained expression of restraint and overwhelming sensation.
As he begins a lazily controlled series of thrusts, she looks up at him and moans softly as he smiles down at her through a pleasured haze.
-
She always thought he was handsome, even beautiful, when she watched him in the field, taking orders from Vargas, his lieutenants, and even her.  The corners of his mouth would always turn up a little when he heard her voice.
After saving him from a frag grenade just outside of Piedras Negras, he hadn’t talked to her for a week.  She didn’t know what to think.  But she shook it off.  He’s just another soldier, like all the rest.
He’d survived her convergence field not long after her arrival in Nogales and became the colonel’s right hand thereafter.
Rodolfo.
Many nights she dreamt of him.  He admitted to her in passing that he’d dreamt of her, his careless words reaching her ear.  She then discouraged him from using a private channel on comms with her.  He was getting too close.
He asked her real name.
She told him she would sooner go to her own grave than tell him.  His eyes revealed the hurt that her words carved into his skin, his heart.
Sirena told herself this is good.  He should be terrified of her.  But her heart ached all the same.
-
They stop to kiss every so often as they make love.
Anyone under similar circumstances would have fucked and fucked hard.  Rodolfo says he only knows how to make love, fast or slow, but he doesn’t fuck.
He claims he could never merely fuck someone as unfathomably incredible as his beautiful, gentle Luz.  Her heart melts for the hundredth time tonight as she hears this.
She argues that she’s a killer, a mass murderer at that.  He ignores her protests and says she is not what she does.
He’s witnessed the maelstrom enveloping her, carnage surrounding them all as death draws near, but her eyes see all and nothing, and she falls to the ground exhausted after, tears standing in her eyes.
Rodolfo insists she is not what she does, but rather she is the instrument.  An unseen force possesses her and, when it is done with her, she is Luz again.  The light of his life.
He kisses her sweetly and tells her he will never let go.
She parts her legs and opens up to him again as their lovemaking continues.  He hasn’t reached his climax yet, but he says he will eventually.  Until then, he wants to enjoy their time together, in case the last sunrise he sees is tomorrow’s.
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[Year 3]
Do not tread the road to Reynosa, you may not return.
Rodolfo’s thoughts scatter as Colonel Vargas informs him that he knows about his relationship with Sirena.
He had been spending almost every night in the guest villa, sneaking away and lying in her arms until dawn.  This had been going on for almost a year.
“<She is in the land of the dead.  To lie with her is to be in the land of the dead yourself.  Bad things happen to the men she loves.>”
“<I don’t care.  I will do…>”
“<You are to be transferred to the coast. Tonight.>”
Before Rodolfo can protest, Vargas says the words.
“<Don’t tread the road to Reynosa.  I can’t help you if you do.  No one can.>”
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Alejandro speaks to her in English.
In her mind he is neither Vargas nor the colonel when he’s like this, slowly drinking whiskey from a tumbler, listening to old Louie Prima records.  He talks about things he never says in the light of day, nor within earshot of anyone but Sirena.
They’ve had time to get acquainted.  She’s always sensed some level of nervousness from him when they spend time together, but he’s always insisted that they meet at least weekly.
She takes a seat in the leather chair opposite Alejandro, gripping her tumbler out of obligation rather than desire to drink.
“You know you’re not the first.”
“The first what?” she offers, knowing he will likely change the subject if she doesn’t play along.
“The first one of you.  With your power.  La Sirena.  You are not the first.”
“Oh yeah?”
“I knew one, when I was a boy.  She did what you do.  The bad men and women…all gone.  El gobierno killed her.  En la calle como un perro.  They took her body…so we could not even bury her.”
“They won’t kill me, Alejandro.”
“Oh, but they will.  For now, they tolerate you because of who you are killing.  But you kill enough bad men, eventually you scare the wrong men.  They will kill you to protect themselves.  Even I…”
Alejandro stares off into the distance, a hum in the back of his throat as the song transports him to another time and place.  His voice cracks when he finally speaks.
“Sirena… I sent Rodolfo away today.”
The silence consumes her as she contemplates his statement.  “Away?”
“You cannot reach him.  Please don’t try.”
The significance of the please was not lost on her.  Colonel Vargas doesn’t ask, he gives orders.  This is Alejandro asking.  Begging.
“Señor…”
“No.  If you love him the way I think you do, you will let him go.”  Alejandro switches to Spanish, his gaze hardening as his eyes meet hers.  “<If the Devil comes to claim you while under my command, I will stand with you against him.  But Rodolfo…no.  He would die for you, but he doesn’t have to.  He can have what we cannot.>”
Her aching heart stops beating in her ears as she accepts what she always knew.  She could never keep Rodolfo.  Someone or something would have removed him from her life.  She’s relieved he’s alive.
The superstitious part of her is thankful he never knew her name.  When she closes her eyes, she sees the radiant sun over his heart, and she swallows hard.
As the silence stretches between them, the turntable stops.  As Sirena stands to flip the record and reset the needle, Alejandro’s voice sounds nostalgic and melancholy at the same time.
“<May I call you Mija?>”
She flips the record.
“<Really?  ‘Mija’?  Vargas, you realize you’re not old enough to be my father,>” she laughs the fragile laugh of the brokenhearted as she moves the needle back into place.
“Oh, this I know.  But you have my protection. Always.  And…Mija sounds better than what the others call you,>” he smiles kindly as he lifts his glass.  When his gaze returns to the middle distance, visible tears well in his eyes.
She wonders if he has a daughter.  Had a daughter.  She doesn’t have to ask.
Her mouth tastes of blood.  She must have bitten the inside of her cheek sometime after Vargas gave her the news.
Sirena will only be Mija to Vargas.
To the others she is all the names they whisper in the dark as they pray for mercy.
She is everything that lights the world against the evil of man.
She is all that will remain once this war is over.
She will stand over the bodies of Division and Control Prime, her boot crushing the neck of Vicarious, and her heart beating with the thunderous rage of the thousands who have died at her feet.
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NEXT CHAPTER: THE ROAD TO REYNOSA (PART II)
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alwaysshallow · 5 months
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boys trying to survive nnn with their partner (141 + los vaqueros + könig x f!reader)
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a/n: if it wasn't for @blissful-bunny, there wouldn't be nnn. LMAOOO i hope y'all will enjoy, it's my first time doing something like this... and i think i don't hate it as i did before!
mdni, as always. nsfw below + keegan's version here
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Simon "Ghost" Riley
Being around Ghost durning this time is funny, to say the least. You know about this bet from Gaz, when you invited the whole Task Force 141 for dinner. There wasn't much of a reaction from you, just a nod and a hum that's interesting to hear that. Nothing more, until your boyfriend's friends went home, and you stayed with him, washing dishes.
"You think you're gonna last?" you ask, and you pretty much can't stop yourself from laughing when he gives you a side eye.
"'s just a month." he grumbles, and you know, you somehow irritated him. Or, the bet did, you're not really sure. "Been through worse."
Theoretically, it is true. He's military, he has seen things that you won't ever see, something so stupid like this challenge shouldn't be something hard to do.
Practically? Practically, he takes every fucking chance to get closer to you. You're making breakfast, showering, washing the dishes? He's gonna be right behind you. It's not surprising at first, he liked to be near you always, but it has a malicious intent to it, when he drags his clothed cock up and down your ass, grunting right into your ear. He gets you worked up, and you're pretty sure he's gonna lose, but he stops right before he cums.
You can't really decide if it's funny or sad to see him like this. It's his pained expression that he gives when he bites on his lower lip, grumbling something about watching you touching yourself, so it will be better. You can't really say no to a man starved, so you put out a show for him, thinking how so much better his fingers would be in your pussy.
If it would depend on you, you'd kneel and relieve him, but what can you do, when he has this ridiculous challenge of his?
He breaks after two days, when he sees you in your shared gym, exercising. It's unexpected, when he puts down dumbbells you were working with, doing squats; you want to ask what's wrong, but when he lifts you up, your back hitting the wall, you just know. You even forgive him when he doesn't prep you enough, and he just thrusts into you without much thinking of it, his balls heavy.
You know you won't leave this gym for a long time.
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Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
"You're participating in what?"
To say it was weird, was one thing. To say that Kyle does it, was even weirder, especially that he was straight from two months of deployment. Needy. You knew it, as you were with him almost three years by now, he had always spent hours in bed with you because he missed you like a madman. These two months were pretty much the longest you've been separated with him, so, you can imagine your surprise, when you learned about the challenge, when you two were cleaning your apartment. He was touching you every now and then, giving you little kisses, and now he was talking about something like this.
"I'm—"
"—No, I heard you" you chuckled, shaking your head. "I'm like… trying to understand who convinced you to do so."
"Bet with Soap. Lad thinks 'm not gonna last with you." he murmurs, and you just know that this motherfucker made this as a personal challenge. So, you just nod your head, to Kyle's surprise on his pretty face. "That's… all you're gonna say?"
"What else I'm supposed to say?" you raise your eyebrow, amused. "That I feel sorry for you, this will do?"
"That ain't funny."
"It is, kind of funny." you grin, as you kiss his forehead, at which he closes his eyes, so you repeat kissing his forehead a few times. "I'm gonna support you in this, yeah? So it's gonna be easier."
It wasn't easier. You could see that he glances at you every now and then, when you are doing domestic things around the house, giving him little, encouraging smiles. Little do you know that Kyle's bulge is growing larger and larger every time he looks at you.
Gaz is pretty calm, at least until he sees you in his t-shirt (that is way too big for you) and just panties underneath, sitting right beside him with a bowl of popcorn. You two planned to watch a movie, but your boyfriend quickly brushes it off, as his hand wanders under the hem of your panties.
"Kyle, you—"
"I know." he almost growls, as he puts you on his lap.
The moment he feels your wetness, he's a gone man; he makes you ride him, and the challenge is just a fading memory, when his lips attack yours.
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John "Soap" MacTavish
Soap is absolutely offended when everyone in Task Force 141 tells him he's gonna lose the challenge. He can't shut up about it for an hour straight, as he lays with his head on your lap, telling you something about celibacy and being true lover, not some "horny arse like the others". You listen to it with a small, amused smile on your lips because as much as you love your boyfriend, everyone is right about it.
He's not gonna last, and he knows it personally too, but you say nothing about it. You just listen to Johnny's ramblings, until his eyes are on you, observing your reaction so casually.
"What do ya think? 'm gonna beat it? Be the best?" he tilts his head like a puppy, squinting his eyes. It's an icy ground you're standing on right now.
"I think… it's gonna be hard." you answer; slowly, reluctantly. It's not something that he wants to hear though, as he groans, shaking his head with displeasure. "What? You asked!"
"I ken it's gonna be hard. 'm askin', if 'm gonna beat it" he emphasizes his last words, and you can feel he barely holds himself from rolling his eyes.
"…well, baby, as much as I have faith in you in other things…"
It's not a good answer for him, nor for a challenge, considering that you end up getting fucked by him – it's some kind of punishment, he tells you, when he folds you in half. He tells you that he also didn't lose the challenge, technically, as you had sex November 1st , at 3 a.m. You nod, hesitantly, so you could go to sleep without causing him to ramble about it again; you are exhausted.
It takes him three days of fucking you in various places to finally come into the conclusion that the challenge isn't for him. Three days of promising and hearing him whining that it's gonna be 'st the tip, baby, to feel you good.
"Good that you've figured that out." you say with a small smile, in restaurant's bathroom, his forehead against yours, as his cock is still buried deep inside you.
"Lasted longer than lads. Sure of that."
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John Price
You want to think of your husband highly, when you hear of this stupid thingy. The authority, someone that leads the Task Force 141, setting the example for his younger proteges with his willpower. Someone who actually cares about engaging in challenges, even if they're stupid, even if he shouldn't even look at something like this.
Yet, you know John, you're married to him, for God's sake – and you know his sex drive. When this man is home, nothing and no one stops him from getting what he wants, and that's on you. In your mind, there's a core memory of him saying that he absolutely loves your pussy, multiple times.
So it's not a surprise that he doesn't participate in this challenge. It's not a surprise when he babbles about having kids with you while he fucks you wherever he can; kitchen counter, under the shower, your couch. His obsession over kids grew over this month more than ever, and you were happy to meet his expectations in a middle, since you thought of having a little angel in your small family for a longer time now. Having a dog wasn't enough.
A surprise comes when he proudly admits that he won in the end of the month. Boys are pretty much shocked by this, considering that their Captain didn't even look frustrated once, and he was in better mood than usual. Yet, they don't have a place to complain, so they accept the defeat with a frown on their faces, and a quick comment from Soap that he for sure cheated.
"You didn't win, honey." you laugh to him, sitting at his lap, when he's in his office, alone.
Price arches his eyebrow in amusement. "I did."
"That's not really—"
"Listen, we were tryin' for babies, weren't we? It wasn't egoistical fuckin'." he explains, completely serious.
It takes all in you not to either gasp or laugh again. "So, if it would be without the intention of making babies, you'd lose?"
He gives you a quick nod. "Exactly, missus. Exactly."
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Alejandro Vargas
It's easy to last a few days for Alejandro. Maybe even a week, or a bit more. With his kind of work, being a Colonel, you often didn't see him for days, or even weeks if it was a bad time. Right now, with working over destroying a Mexican cartel, being home was rare for him. Was it saddening? Of course, but you knew what you were doing when you married him, you've talked with him about it for days, maybe weeks, even.
So, maybe that's why he didn't really think much of a challenge when he agreed to it, one of the nights he was drinking with Los Vaqueros. Just for fun, just to make a fun memory in this mess they were in. Days were passing in the blink of an eye with the same routine; a few hours of sleep if he's lucky, patrol, documents, action and repeat. Nothing too fancy, nothing too new for a man of war like he is, he got used to it all.
Harder was the moment he came home to you, where you were waiting for him with your open arms, all needy for his presence, for his touch, but somehow, somehow he managed, giving you the best orgasm of your life with his mouth only, even if he was in need too.
"Cariño?" he calls you, confused, when he doesn't see you in bed in the next morning. In his sweatpants only, he goes to the kitchen, following the sound of pan that sizzles lazily in the background.
"Makin' breakfast, Ale!" you reply, looking behind your shoulder with the biggest smile that slowly falters the moment you see his eyes darkening in the span of seconds. "What's with the face?"
He approaches you slowly, caging you between his arms. "Just… appreciating" he says, as he starts kissing your neck "my little wife. Who's been really patient with me, gone for so many days. And now, you're making me breakfast—" he groans, shaking his head. You can feel his growing bulge, as you grind your ass against it.
It's obvious that Colonel lost the challenge, after he arrives to his work with his wife, his arm possessively around her. Why? Maybe it's your neck covered in hickeys, your trembling legs, or his arms visibly scratched, but no one says anything about it in the base.
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Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra
You have a kind of forbidden romance with him; you're the one of Los Vaqueros, and the romance is absolutely prohibited here, to prevent the collapse of the squad. Not to mention that he's a right hand man of Alejandro, so he has to follows the rules directly. Maybe even more than anyone here, to be honest; setting an example that he's not a exception to the rule.
It doesn't help that you're so kind. That you nod every time you see him as a silent greeting, and then you rush to do whatever you have to do today. It doesn't help him that you're helping everyone around you with a smile that could light up the whole town, and he smiles every time he sees it, too.
Everyone pictures that Rudy would win the challenge easily, since in their heads, his head wasn't occupied with anyone, and he could easily withold himself with his desires.
And maybe he would. Maybe he would, if you weren't the one guarding the base with him, if you weren't the one who was smiling at him with those plump lips of yours.
"If you'd only know how much I thought about… hah—" his breaths are ragged, as the pace of his hips gets quicker. His lips finds yours, as he kisses you with such hunger, you know without a doubt that he means what he says. It automatically makes you smile.
"It's fate that binds us, then" you say, your fingernails clutching at his arms; you're sure that you're the creator of bloody crescents here, but you can't care less about it. Not when the man of your dreams is fucking you.
He smiles at your words.
Rudy never been a good liar, and you painfully learn it, when Alejandro asks him why he's so happy; as you stand nearby, you hear the whole conversation. It's cute in some way, the way he's a blabbering mess, without any sense of it.
It takes Colonel's one look at you, and he knows.
You never walked faster to your work, neither did Rudy.
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Konig
If you think he's gonna even try playing at this, you're in deep denial. Maybe if he'd be alone he could try of a genuine curiosity, but not when he has you. Such a pretty, obedient girlfriend, that he has wrapped around his finger, and a girlfriend that is pretty much at his service every time he wants.
He's a man to laugh about that challenge with his squad, telling them that they're filthy, and he would last the whole month, maybe even longer, if it weren't for you. Because he's such a caring boyfriend, he listens to your needs, even if you're whiny.
At least, that's the story that his squad knows.
He tells you about this while he folds you in half, that he needs to act a little grumpy around his squad, to put a facade that he's hungry because it's the right thing to do. When you suggest that he could even try, he barks a low laugh, while he pumps his cock before thrusting into you.
"Schatz, as if. Not gonna play the kids game." it's all he says, kissing you with affection on your swollen lips. "I do not intend on torturing you like this. You wouldn't survive a day without my dick."
There's some truth to it — but you're truly wondering if that's you who wouldn't survive without his dick, or he, that wouldn't survive without your pussy and sex, considering he is even more of a maniac than you are.
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dividers by cafekitsune
13K notes · View notes
smutstationchoochoo · 8 months
Text
Desperate
COD Men x Reader
Hear me out: a sex pollen fic where reader isn’t affected but he is and he is gone.
Word count: ~3.6k
A/N: It’s just the poorly written sex pollen drabble of my dreams, it’s fuck or die lads. Insert your favorite COD man here. Please forgive me for any spelling/grammar mistakes and my complete lack of knowledge regarding military things, all I know is that these men are hot and I love them.
Warnings: sex pollen, unprotected PIV (wrap it up), overstimulation, dubious consent (consent is sexy folks)
Banner credit: @cafekitsune
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You all had been briefed at 0200. The flight to Berlin left at 0300 where the team would be infiltrating a terrorist hideout, a suspected manufacturing site for a new chemical agent. You were told that as long as you didn’t ingest it, you would be fine.
The fact that it had been made airborne was not in the fucking briefing.
The team had been split into pairs, you and he took the North side of the suspected warehouse. The size of it should have tipped you all off. Everything was running smoothly until 3 combatants had come from the door at the end of the corridor. He called for cover and ran ahead. You dropped two before he even got a stride in. The other he disarmed in seconds and then with a deafening crack, both men slammed through a door and into the resulting room. A brief struggle then silence. You heard him start to call the ok, his voice in the comm sounding clearer than earlier, then a noise, a pop, and the sound of air. You froze, watching a gas spill from the open door and dissipate immediately. Just when you started moving again, a growling, “Don’t,” tore through the comm. Then, the sound of ripping Velcro and something hard (his helmet you realized with a sickening drop) hitting the concrete floor echoed out to you. Soft murmurs that grew into angry outbursts of fuck fuck fuck transformed into one that became a groan of what sounded like complete and utter pain. You didn’t even have to think, the severity of the situation settled in. “It’s a gas,” you barked into the comms, “Northside hit, need medevac in 30, going dark.” You waited for confirmation, seconds after getting it and receiving news that the warehouse was almost cleared, you went to find him.
You knew what it did, you all did. Jokes had been made, smirks shared, but you all knew how bad it was. You weren’t even close to prepared. He was sitting against the far wall or rather pressed into it using it to keep his now shaking frame upright, gear strewn around the room, combatant on your immediate left with a mask (his mask, the masks you all were wearing just in fucking case) gripped in a dead hand, an empty canister mockingly sitting in the middle of the room. 
You gripped the combatant by his legs and dragged him to the hall, before slamming the door shut upon reentry and grabbing a near chair to jam the door. You immediately began stripping yourself of your outer tactical gear until you both matched in only your boots, pants, and base shirts and then you turned your attention to him. Now kneeling by his side you took him in, looking for any other injuries noting nothing serious. That almost made you laugh with relief until you saw the front of his pants and him frantically palming the growing outline. You swallowed and quickly looked at his face shocked back to the reality of the current situation. The usually stoic, always larger than life, incredibly strong man in front of you was reduced to tears dripping from his now blown and hazy eyes, falling down flushed cheeks and landing on the front of his shirt that clung to his hyperventilating chest. You knew he had been shot, stabbed often, and left for dead a time or two, but this…
Shiny and new neurotoxin, you remembered the brief, attacks the nervous system, causing the mark to feel intense arousal and as if they have been lit on fire, specially formulated not only to cause pain but a complete and utter breakdown of will as victims often experience hallucinations and loss of self. If left in the system, it raises the core temperature until convulsions set in, and then heart attack occurs. Do not touch it.
No one had to ask how it was worked out of the system. Then again, they all believed they were too smart to touch the shit. Couldn’t do much about breathing it in when your mask was ripped from your face though.
  Your hand pressed to his slick forehead now radiating heat, and feeling as if it could burn you like an open flame. At the touch of your blessedly cool hand, he hissed a low fuck through his gritted teeth, keening into your touch. You swallowed, hand tilting his cheek to look up at you when you asked, “Can I help?”  His hair was sticking up at all angles from the helmet being hastily pulled from his head, and he looked up at you and gave one weak nod, “Please.”
Upon looking at the desperation pooling in those dark eyes (those eyes you often were caught staring at) any small reservations evaporated from your body under his burning gaze. You swiftly reached out, mercifully helping him escape from the now too-tight pants, the bite of his zipper. The moment your skin brushed against the head of him he was bucking up against it. You had to reach the other hand out to steady yourself against his shoulder, another touch that jutted his hips and had him twitching into your grip.
“Is- is this helping?” you croaked out, struggling to swallow, struggling to contain the wave of arousal that was threatening to course through you. He nodded, chin slack against his chest as he watched your hand work against him, moving up and down against the veins seemingly trying to break through his skin. No thoughts went through his mind other than the knowledge that you were jerking him off and that it felt so good that he could cry in relief. But then something shuddered within him, something loud and fast like a wildfire, burning just as much, and hot thick ropes of cum spilled over your hand. He couldn’t even cry out, it happened so fast. His breath was coming out in loud pants, when a new thought, the thought that he had just come in maybe thirty seconds flashed through his mind but it was quickly replaced with the horrible realization that the feeling of being on fire wasn’t going away. It was getting worse, out of control, containment measures failed. At this, he let out a sob as his hips moved of their own volition into your still soothing grip. It wasn’t enough, he knew, you knew, it wasn’t enough.
 You stood, and he whimpered at the loss of your touch but all sound stopped in his throat when he watched you decisively unzip your pants and pull them down to your ankles underwear included, kicking off a boot, and one pant leg. When you straddled his lap he desperately pulled you down onto him, your exposed core grinding down where he wanted you, where he fucking needed you, that’s when he began to talk. Begging you to help him, saying that he’s sorry over and over, that he needs your help, incoherent babbling from a breaking mind, please it hurts so bad, I-I don’t, I can’t- fuck, I need you... All cool, calm, collectedness burnt to fucking ash. Just a man reduced to pure longing and want. A longing and want that might be what was threatening to kill him, not the toxin, just the build up over the days, weeks, months he had been around you threatening to crush him. He almost wants to die, this was never how it was supposed to be. He wanted it to be good for you, you deserve that, you deserve better, he could have given you better-
But now what was he? A heaving chest under a sweat soaked shirt beneath eyes that watch you like some feral animal. Hands wanting to claw at the clothing now so heavy, hot, and itchy against his burning skin, but instead were gripping onto your hips like it’s going to save him from burning to a crisp. The broken moans tearing their way from his throat when you line up his painfully hard cock to your entrance makes you throb, and then his choking cry as you slide down on him punches the air from your chest.
“Does this feel ok?” you panted out after a moment, struggling, trying not to drown in the pleasure of him stretching you, filling you. He couldn’t form the words, couldn’t even nod. His forehead falling to your shoulder in utter relief, mouth dropped open as he repeats your name over and over like an apology, a thanks, a goddamned prayer. How all he can do is sit there on the floor of some warehouse, back against a wall, the only thing resembling his usual strength is that ironclad hold he has on your hips as he helps you drag yourself up, then, accompanied by the tortuously obscene sounds of your wetness, back down. Brokenly pleading with you not to stop, don’t stop, fuck p-please don’t stop. You feel like molten heaven against his cock, your moans like angels (or devils, he’s too far gone to care at this point) singing through the blood rushing in his ears. One of your hands again steadies yourself on his shoulder, the other steadying him, an anchor point, with your achingly gentle hold on the nape of his damp neck (so gentle that it breaks his fucking heart, he wanted to give you more, you deserved more) as you ride him. Your hips rock once more, twice more, before his body seizes up with electricity that ricochets up his spinal cord and reverberates through his skull. His fingers dig into the soft skin of your hips, teeth grinding and eyes slamming shut, as he releases inside of you with a shattered cry. The sound of you gasping, now clutching, raking your fingers into him, has his hips continuing their rutting up into you, pushing his cum as deep as he can within your walls.
He stills for 10 seconds at most, panting breaths thunderous between you two, before pulling you into his chest, his hips slamming up into you, hard and hot as if he didn’t just fuck you until he could see every neuron firing behind his eyes. His hot open mouth finds your shocked one in a perfectly surprised “o,” more apologies pushing from his lungs and into yours between loud wet kisses as he listens (is blessed with thank you God) to you beginning to come apart. You couldn’t help it, as you ground down into his thrusts, even though you knew the threatening climax was going to be terrifying. Your breathing was ragged now as well, the air becoming harder and harder to drag into your lungs in between you cursing and moaning, and then- fucking hell- you’re at the precipice. Before you can even utter a syllable you are being flung over the edge. The pleasure rips through you, waves breaking against the rocky shore, with such intensity that it hurts, causing you to dig your nails into his skin, and bright spots to dance behind your closed eyes while the distant feeling of wetness registers from between you two. He explodes again with a gasp, feels you clench around him like a vice, his name, his real name, forcing its way from inside you and into his mouth with every pulse and it tastes so so good that he can’t stop, he never wants to stop, just filling you up until it drips from you, filling you with him because you’re his, his. Even when you both whimper and shudder with overstimulation, his arms shaking in their grip around you, he can only press his forehead to yours, rolling it desperately, as he begs for your forgiveness. I can’t stop, it won’t stop, I’ll make it good, please next time I’ll make it good.
“It is good,” you whisper to him with hitched breath from each thrust, trying to reassure him, “It’s ok, it’s ok.” You don’t know if he can hear you, his eyes are wild and don’t seem to even register that you are actually on top of him, that he’s inside of you, that he has made you yell out his name over and over and over. You don’t think he even knows what he is saying. Next time.
 His own voice comes to him from somewhere far away, through the flames licking at his mind, please- fuckin’ hell please, just a little more- I just need one more, I need you, please don’t stop, I don’t want to stop nearly unrecognizable as he comes inside you again and again and again.
It isn’t until the medevac came and he was sedated that what just happened began to sink in. For a week, a fucking week, he’s in critical condition. No one talks about it, at least not in the way you all did before this. You saved him, you’re told. You don’t want to think about it, if you think about it then you think about how good it felt, how fucked it is that it felt good, and how everything is gone. If you think about all he said, you’d overthink, give meaning where there was none. He probably won’t be able to look at you anymore. You went to see him that first day. You sat next to him for mere minutes before bolting, the fear of him waking up and looking at you with disgust, telling you to get out in that icy voice you knew so well, sent you running straight to the mats to train until you wanted to scream. That’s all you did now, and that was where you decided you would stay until you died. That is until someone came and found you, told you he was awake, and that he had asked for you. The whole walk to the infirmary had adrenaline coursing through you, you wanted to run, to fight, to freeze right there in the hall and never move another fucking muscle. The thought of losing him, him being there but not wanting to be near you anymore made you feel sick. It had been so long, so long of repressing those feelings that flared in your chest when he smiled at you during sparring, the feeling of him seated next to you on a flight, his eyes catching yours just so you could stay with him. Well, you thought with dripping ire, that had literally and figuratively been fucked now hadn’t it?  
You knocked, heard his gruff voice, and entered. You stopped dead in your tracks three steps into the room after mistakenly looking up and finding him staring at you from where he sat on the edge of the bed, already dressed, looking like he was about to head out on another call. You were desperately trying not to shake but your hands gave you away. You could take on a man twice your size without batting an eye but this?- you were terrified.
The moment you walked into the room, all his time that morning when he first woke thinking about what he would say to you, how he could face you, was knocked from his mind. You had saved his life. He never wanted that. He wanted to give it to you, it was yours after all. He didn’t know when it had become yours, every single part of him, but if he had to wager a guess it was the moment he found you in his life. And it might all be ruined.
The memories had started coming to him immediately after waking up, almost more clear and real now than in the moment.  It jolted him awake so hard that the attending ran into the room for fear that his hammering heart had in fact given out. Once his breathing had calmed a little, he tried to sift through the fog. His recall of the smell of you, the arousal dripping from between your legs, mixed with your sweat and the familiar scent of your grapefruit and ginger shampoo, nearly pulled a groan from his chest. The soft touch of your hands, cool and strong against the fire that spread through his blood, had brought him back. The feeling of you breaking, the soft whines, the way you said his name… the things he had said, he couldn’t just shut the fuck up could he?
He had to bring his hands up to cover his eyes, willing the images to go away, just for a moment, please, he just needed some time, if only he had time- next time. Next time, he had told you. A desperate promise, a reassurance, trying to tell you that it wasn’t just the chemical coursing through him, it wasn’t just his hijacked nervous system. Did she know? Did she understand? That’s when he asked for you, without thinking, just wanting to see you, to explain. He had never been good with words unless it was biting sarcasm across comms or coolly delivering ultimatums in an interrogation. Then he remembered, the thing that sent his heart barreling through his chest for the second time, the machine next to him screaming. It is good, you had said, it’s ok, it’s ok, you had whispered.  
He ripped the monitors off his chest, ignoring the doctor's protestations, found the clothes that had been brought in for him and got dressed. Now that you were standing here before him he was unsure. You looked scared, and he could count on one hand all the times he had seen you in such a state.
His staring was unnerving, more unnerving than if he had shouted, yelled, grabbed you, anything but this, this was fucking torture. You had to leave, just get off base, go somewhere, anywhere but here- the sudden sound of your name shook you from the reverie. The tone had your eyes finding his immediately.
He stayed seated, scared that if he stood, if he made his way to you, you would run, and you both knew that you were much quicker than him. If you ran, if you left, he would never catch up.  Only when his knuckles began to ache did he realize how tightly he was gripping the edge of the mattress in an effort to keep himself there. It was hard to look at you and not remember the way you had looked when you pressed your hand to his forehead, when you had thrown your head back in pleasure, when you had grabbed his face when he was too exhausted to continue but thankfully no longer felt like he was burning alive. It was hard to remember and not stride across the room and hold you. He took a breath and forced his shoulders to relax in a way that he had done so many times before.
“I-,” he started, his voice cutting through the room, his normal voice, the one you recognized as him and it set you slightly at ease from sheer familiarity, “I’m so sorry.” Now he had to turn his eyes downcast.
“What?” Your response, the shock in your voice, forced him to look at you again. Your hands itched at your sides, confusion rippling across your face.
His eyes narrowed, he knew you so well. Always blaming yourself. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, “I’m sorry that happened, I’m sorry you were put in that position,” the word choice made him nearly cringe. He continued, “I never-I didn’t want it to happen that way.”
Your brain jolted, standing there in shocked silence, his words thundering through your ears accompanied by the pleading of next time.
He pressed on, desperately trying, “I know you, you’re going to think this was your fault. It wasn’t. There was nothing either of us could do, thank you for your, uh, help. Just- fuck, please just say some-,”
Shock still swept through you, the words escaped your mouth before you could think, “Did you mean it?” You figured by the way he leaned back that he knew what you were talking about. Then he held out a hand, palm up, an offering. Before you knew it, you had crossed the room, putting your hand in his and letting it gently pull you between his legs. His giant frame meant even sitting on the gurney that his gaze was level with yours, and those eyes searched your own when one word sounded through the room.
“Yes.”
This word broke you. One fucking word, one word that answered every glance between you two, every smile shared, a word you brokenly whispered into the night when you had a hand between your legs thinking about him knowing you shouldn’t. You hadn’t cried all week, but now the giant tears rolling down your cheeks felt like a release. When his free hand, warm and rough, swiped them away you couldn’t help leaning into it, just as he had done. All tension, all fear, dissipated from the room. That hand continued to just below your ear, cupping your neck, and gently pulling you forward to press his head against yours, eyes shutting, just resting there against each other in the moment.
“What the fuck are we gonna do?” you sighed.
You could feel the smirk that you knew was slipping across his mouth.
“Well, I did say next time.”
This time when you rode him with the small bed creaking beneath the movements, he stopped you any time you tried to speed up (it was your turn to beg and plead), keeping you at a languid torturous pace. That way the bastard had all the time in the world to whisper into your mouth, letting you taste each word, all the things he would do to you next time and all the times after that.
Thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you think! :)
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starstruckmiraclekitty · 11 months
Note
HELLLOOOOO 🔥🔥 do you know that tiktok trend right now where it’s like “when I tell you to sit on my face, don’t just put 10% of your body weight down, fucking sit on it. Sit like a chair. Don’t ask if I can breathe just sit down.” Yeah can I request like 141 and los vaqueros just begging their fem s/o to sit on their face but she’s really insecure and they don’t care they are literally on their knees begging to just taste her 😫.
141 + LV & König Begging Fem! Reader To Sit On Their Face
Warnings: pure smut, smut without plot, oral f receiving, swearing
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Simon Ghost Riley-
"Y/N, you won't hurt me, sit." Simon knew you like the back of his hand. He knew you were scared to hurt him, but he couldn't give a damn less. He wanted to be suffocated by your pussy, and refused to take no for an answer.
"But Simon-." You started, but he cut you off.
"But nothing. I asked you to come and sit on my face, and I expect that you'll come do it."
Your thighs squeezed together at his words, desperate to relieve some of the tension that was building in your lower regions.
He grabbed the flesh of your thighs as you slowly made your way up the length of his body and pulled your sopping cunt down onto his mouth.
You let out a soft whimper as his tongue immediately darted out to skillfully lick at your wet folds. Simon was usually quite skilled with his mouth, but this new angle had you seeing stars.
"Grind on my face, sweetheart, go on." He spoke breathlessly as he pulled away from your cunt for a moment. "I know you want to."
You a rush of heat go straight to your core at his words, and took your seat back on his face. Slowly, you began to rock your hips back and forth, rubbing your sopping heat against Simon's flattened tongue.
The feeling was ethereal and like nothing you'd ever felt before. His warm tongue, flattened against your core, mixed with the slight stubble of his jawline had your orgasm rapidly approaching.
You continued your lazy pace, rocking your hips back and forth slightly as Simon continued to stretch out his tongue for you.
Your orgasm rippled through you, causing your body to convulse slightly against Simon's face. Simon's grip on your thighs tightened as he desperately licked up the remnants of your orgasm, moaning softly at your taste.
He sat up gently, and the look on his face had your cheeks aflame with embarrassment. His face was covered in your essence, but he couldn't have looked happier. "Did so well for me, love. Think you can cum on my cock this time?"
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John Price-
"I'm not asking you, I'm telling you. Get that pretty ass over here and sit on my face." John's voice was demanding, leaving no room for you to question his request.
You discarded your undergarments as you made your way over to your husband, who was patiently waiting for you on the bed.
You hesitantly lowered yourself onto his face before he let out out a soft groan. "Don't put half your body weight on me, baby. Fucking sit on me like you would a chair."
John grabbed at the plushy flesh of your thighs as you sat yourself onto his face, pinning you so you were unable to move.
He waisted no time in placing wet, open-mouthed kisses to your core, causing your hands to fly out and grasp at the headboard in front of you.
"Always taste so fucking divine, princess." He groaned as he continued to slurp at your neverending arousal. The hair from his beard added to the pleasure you were experiencing as it began to rub at your pussy with each movement of his mouth.
You let out a strangled moan as your hands flew down to his hair, tugging at the dark brown locks firmly as you instinctively ground your cunt against his mouth.
John attached his lips to your clit tightly, sucking with just the right amount of pressure you make your body go limp against him. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you clung to his hair for dear life, his teeth now lightly biting at your clit.
"John, I'm gonna, I'm gonna cum." You gasped out as his tongue now started to flick feverishly at your puffy clit.
He grunted into your pussy in response as he looked up at you with lust filled eyes.
With one final flick of his tongue, your vision went white, your head falling back as your orgasm hit you. Your legs shook against John's head as he reached his hands out to steady you, his mouth not leaving your pussy as he continued the movements of his tongue.
He lifted you up slightly before flipping you over so that your backside was now in his face. He gave you a light smack to your ass, causing you to lurch forward, your face inches away from his painfully hard cock.
"Not done with you yet, but certainly won't complain if you want to return the favor."
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Johnny Soap MacTavish-
"Come here." Johnny beckoned, waiving you over with his hand. "Let me taste you, please. It's been too long."
"Johnny, I'm too heavy, I don't want to hurt you." You mumbled, nervously picking at your hair as you hovered over his midsection.
"You're not too heavy, bugger off with that. Now come over here and give me what I want." He chuckled darkly before grabbing your legs and pulling you toward him. "Be a good girl and sit."
You let your mind go blank as you obeyed his command, sitting yourself firmly on his outstretched tongue.
You gasped, feeling his tongue immediately go to your dripping folds. The worries of your weight on his face were long gone, as your mind grew hazy from the movements of Johnny's tongue.
Johnny was a groaning mess underneath you, causing you to moan out from the vibrations that rippled through your core from his groans.
"Use my face, lass. Make yourself cum in my mouth." Johnny's voice was husky, dripping with lust as he pulled away from your core to take a breather.
His words ellicited a primal growl from your lips as you pushed your aching core back down to his parted lips. You wasted no time in grabbing onto the sides of his head as you began to grind your wet heat down on his face.
Johnny licked at your cunt wildly, not missing a beat as he pushed his face further into your cunt, practically suffocating himself in it.
You felt your body tighten as your orgasm began to hit you, a wetness pooling out of you, coating your lover's face below you. You cried out as your body lurched forward, your hands flying to rest on the wall to support yourself. "Fuck, Johnny I'm so sorry, I've made a mess."
Johnny's hands grabbed at your waist, pulling you off of him before pinning you down in front of him on the bed.
"Don't. Ever. Apologize. For. That." He breathed, his face still slick with your arousal. He lowered himself down on the bed, his face hovering near your drenched pussy. "Now be a good girl, and let me clean up the mess we made."
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Kyle Gaz Garrick-
"But what if you can't breathe? I don't want to suffocate you." You said your cheeks are aflame with embarrassment
"Sweetheart, I promise to let you know if I can't breathe." He chuckled rubbing soothing circles into your thighs. "I've got a strong jaw. You won't hurt me."
"Okay." You breathed as your heart rate began to pick up. You slowly made your way up the length of Kyle's body before your heat hovered over his face.
You looked down to find Kyle giving you a reassuring smile before you sat down with your thighs on either side of his head.
He began with slow kitten licks, teasing your core with his tongue. He chuckled at the small moans that emitted from your lips as he licked a firm strip up your center.
"Taste so good, honey." He cooed into your pussy, before placing wet kisses all along your core.
His warm tongue moved to dance between your folds, collecting what he could of your essence. It never took long for Kyle to get drunk off your taste, and he quickly pulled you down further onto his face, nearly suffocating himself with your heat.
You'd never expected it to feel this good, and you couldn't help the string of moans that escaped your lips as your lover continued to ruin you with his mouth.
You felt yourself nearing your edge and desperately tried to move off of Kyle's mouth. "Ky, I'm close, I don't wanna make a mess."
He pulled his face away and chuckled darkly before placing another wet, open-mouthed kiss to your core. "You're staying right here til I get my fill out of you. Got it?"
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Alejandro-
"Get over here." Alejandro said as he made himself comfortable on the bed. "Why are you being so shy, mi amor? It's just me."
"I dont want to hurt you." You mumbled sheepishly as you stood beside the bed.
"Sweetheart, you won't, I promise. You said this was something you've always wanted to try. Let me enlighten you. Plus, I want to, badly." His voice was soft as his arms reached out to grab you.
"You want to?" You asked, the shyness you felt before slowly leaving your system.
"So fucking bad hermosa." He echoed, pulling your naked frame onto the bed. "Go head, take a seat."
You slowly sank down onto his face, before feeling his warm, wet mouth immediately attack your cunt. He started a toe curling pace as he flattened his tongue against your sensitive bud and flitted his head from side to side.
"Fuck! Ale!" You cried out, your thighs tightening against his head, causing him to grunt out against your cunt.
His pace didn't falter, his head continuing to move side to side at a brutal pace, and you could feel yourself growing closer to your orgasm.
The sounds were obscene between your moans, and the slurping noises emitting from him had you nearing your release and fast.
Alejandro moved his mouth down to your entrance, his tongue flicking at the hole wildly as his nose rubbed at your clit. A soft moan emitted from your lips, causing him to fully sheathe his tongue inside of your hole, rubbing along the velvety walls within his reach.
You felt the coil in your belly tightening as your hands flew down to your lover's hair, threading it in between his black locks. "Ale, g-gonna cum."
"Cum for me princessa." He moaned into your pussy, and his words were all you needed to be sent over the edge. You felt a pulsing heat corse through you as Alejandro continued to eat you out through your orgasm. He pulled his face away from you a few moments later with a devilish grin.
"I need more, mi amor. Be good for me, and let me get my fill."
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Roldolfo-
"Sit on my face." Rodolfo asked suddenly causing you to halt your bouncing movements on his cock.
"What?" You asked breathless, your hands steadying yourself on his chest.
"I said, mi amor, come sit on my face, let me make you feel good." He stretched his hands out toward you, beckoning you toward him. "You're doing so good on top of me, I want to repay you."
You let him drag you toward him before placing a shaky hand on his chest. "Wait, what if I hurt-"
"Don't ask me if you're going to hurt me, and don't ask if I'll be able to breathe, please cariño, just sit on my face." He begged, his eyes pleading with yours.
You swallowed thickly and moved to sit on his face as his arms came to latch around your thighs, pressing you firmly to his face.
He began to lap at your arousal like a man starved and was unable to control the soft groans that emitted from his lips against your pussy.
"Put all your weight on me, mi amor." He purred as his hands wrapped around your thighs. With your mind hazy, all your previous insecure thoughts were long forgotten as you fully sat yourself on your lover's face, relishing in the feeling of his tongue lapping at your heat.
He was beyond pussy drunk, and planned to stay like that for hours if you let him. His pace began to quickened as he let his tongue dance between your folds, flicking at your clit each time his tongue landed at the top of your pussy.
You couldn't help but let yourself fall back slightly, your hands grabbing at his thighs behind you to give you support as you began to move your hips in a circular motion, rubbing your pussy along Rodolfos outstretched tongue.
You felt yourself getting closer to your release, and Rodolfo knew it. He abruptly pulled away from your core with a grin. "Ah ah ah."
You let out a small whimper as Rodolfo sat up, sending you sliding to his midsection. "Be good hermosa, and get back on my cock, yeah?"
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König-
"Maus, please, come sit on my face." König pleaded, his cock painfully straining against his pants. "I need it."
"Kö, I'll hurt you. You won't be able to breathe."
"Schatz, you won't hurt me, I promise. Please." He begged, his lust filled eyes raking up and down your figure. "Let me make you feel good."
You swallowed your nerves and walked over to your boyfriend, climbing over his figure on the bed. "Tell me if it's too much."
"You'll never be too much." He roughly pulled you down onto his mouth, causing you to cry out as his tongue danced at your aching hole. His eyes stayed on you as he began to move his tongue in a circular motion at your entrance before moving it in and out of you at a languid pace.
You let out a small sob, the stimulation of his tongue quickly proving to be too much as you bucked your hips, your core grinding against his face. He let out a dark chuckle as his tongue returned to your hole, continuing to piston in and out of you at a feverish pace.
His pace eventually slowed as his tongue made its way to your clit, slowly drawing various letters and symbols against your bundle of nerves. Your thighs had tightened around his head, allowing you to grind yourself again on your lover's face.
König let out a groan as you gently ground your wet heat across his face, covering him from his nose to his chin with your arousal.
He quickened the pace of his tongue once more as he felt you shake slightly against his face, a sign of your oncoming orgasm. He began to flick his tongue wildly at your clit while squeezing at the flesh of your ass.
You felt the coil in your belly tighten and snap with one harsh flick of Königs tongue, your orgasm tearing through you as your legs tightened around his head. "Fuck, Kö!"
König didn't stop moving his mouth, however, and continued to lap at your orgasm obscenely. He pulled his face away moments later, a giant fucked out smile lining his lips. "Let me go again, Maus, please?
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A/N: Instead of taking a full-on break, I'm planning on posting periodically instead of every day. I still am working to get to each of your requests, and I greatly appreciate all of your patience and support🩷
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blingblong55 · 7 months
Text
Sweat- Rodolfo Parra NSFW
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Based on a request:
Desperate for some Rudy smut! My baby doesn’t get enough attention.
F!Reader, smut, 18+, MDNI, P-in-V, unprotected sex
It was midnight when he and you awake, he in the kitchen and you in the room. You were looking back at the videos you and him had created the night before, your moans playing over and over the speakers of your phone. You felt the sudden urge to go and mess with Rudy. Your steps are silent as you approach him from behind, kisses on his neck, your arms wrapped around his waist. "Hm, missed me that much, cariño?" he smiles and leans back, letting you kiss him more. You nod and smile, "So much, Rudy, I need you." Your voice is low and seductive.
He chuckles and then lets out a small gasp as he feels your hands wander his trousers. "You are not so innocent, R/N," he whispers, the grip he had on the pan he was using becoming weaker. You find your way to his boxers and you begin to slowly tease his length. He let out a soft moan, wanting to turn around and kiss you but you won't budge. You begin to stroke his every needy dick, he smiles and moans. He leans further back into you, and you kiss and nibble on his neck. He moans and smiles, the pleasure you always made him feel being greater than anything. He turns the stove off, and you continue to stroke his dick, making him more and more desperate for you to be a little rougher with it.
Needs that release now more than ever. He turns around and carries you, your hips around his waist. He begins to kiss your lips, savouring heaven as if it was the first time. He lays you on the bed, kissing your neck and trailing to your chest, like a madman he removes your shirt and shorts. The nightwear on the floor, he smiles and opens your legs, looking at you before placing himself in you. You nod, giving him consent.
You both gasp as he begins to thrust into you, moans and whimpers echo around the room. As they become more aggresive and passionate, the more you hold onto him. His kisses so wet and playful. "Rudy, fuck…i…so close." your head thrown back, his size making you get closer and closer to your orgasm. You can't create complete sentences as he melts your brain away. Your body and his, fitting perfectly together. His forehead against yours, sweat dripping down from both of you. Your legs wrapped to his sides, his hand on the back of your head while the other holds your hips.
You moan loudly and lean in and as you were unable to kiss him, you bite his lower lip. He groans as he gets more desperate for his release. A knot is formed in your stomach, your orgasm getting closer by the second, your head thrown back into the pillow. He groans louder, raspier and more desperate for his own release. Your eyes to him, watching as he rams his hips between your thighs. Your hands grip his arms, back arched as you cum. Your loud moans turn to whimpers when he doesn't stop thrusting into you. "Rudyyy…fuck…please…i can't..you don't know what you are doing to me!" you became sensitive as his fingers abused your clit.
He chuckles and leans back, his hand gripping your hips the second his cock began to ooze out his warm and thick seed inside of you. "Oh fuck oh fuck…" he moans and looks at you, a grin on him as he pulls out and watches his seed leak from you.
"Cariño, look at that beautiful," he leans in and plants a intimate and passionate kiss on your lips.
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imperihoe-writes · 6 months
Text
A Proper Name
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Simon 'Ghost' Riley / fem!Reader
"If I stop being scared, will you leave, then?" That gave the monster pause, and he hummed in consideration.  "It depends. If your contentment and happiness taste as sweet as your fear, I might want to stay."
Content:   monster!AU, Reaper?Simon, horror elements, parallel worlds, feeding on fear, dark humor, dub-con at first since the reader is scared, possessive Simon, throat-grabbing, tension, open ending
Word Count:   3.1k
Part:    1 - Ghost - you are about to read 'A Proper Name'! 2 - Price - read 'A Sea Of Gold And Green' here! 3 - Soap - read 'A Debt Repaid' here!
Notes:   'Tis the damn season. I felt in the mood to write creepy monsters that are actually just doing their job: scaring humans to feed on their terror. This is my Halloween 'Monsters, Inc.' Special 🖤
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Your apartment was dark, the wind rattling the closed blinds outside, only a small candle on the windowsill keeping you company. Heart pounding, your eyes flew over the pages of your book, the thrill of the chase and murder mystery so real. It felt as though the bad guys were after you. Like you were running, running, running out of time, turning page after page, eyes burning from the low light but unwilling to get up and do something about it. 
It was October, spooky season, and you had embraced it with arms wide open: watching horror documentaries that made your toes curl, planning a silly costume for the party your friends were throwing, reading crime stories. 
There was only one downside: the inherent paranoia that seemed to always accompany these topics. Knowing that horrendous crimes were committed every day. Realizing, that you could be next.
Shaking your head, you place a well-loved bookmark between the pages, only a few left now, and get up with a groan. Your kitchen is dark when you enter it, so you blindly grope around for a glass of water. Instead, you knock into the pan that you had used for dinner a couple of hours before, and it comes crashing down to the floor.
You let out a startled yelp at the sudden noise, forget to breathe for a moment as the clanging seems to reverberate around you. 
"Fucking shit," you curse, one hand in your sweatpants, already fishing out your phone to assess the mess on the floor. Bending over the copious amounts of red sauce splatters that have found their way onto the cabinet doors and tiles, you grab some tissues to scoop it all up, mourning the waste of food and energy you had put into making it when-
What was that? Your head swivels back up at the same time as your flashlight, pointing towards the door that leads into your bedroom. 
You could have sworn there was a soft creaking sound, like wood groaning under the weight of heavy footsteps, but your apartment is quiet. Another howl of the wind outside makes you shiver, and you hastily get back to cleaning the kitchen.
What a silly thought, you chastise yourself, shaking your head. All that reading has got me messed up.
But it still doesn't stop you from locking your front door. Or from imagining what it would be like if that possessed man from the book called out to you on the street, how you'd probably be too kind to ignore him, like the nuns that ultimately refused to take him in. How he had spread disease and fear in their hearts, before violently-
Okay, enough of that.
Shaking a little, and feeling very stupid about it, you decided to call it a night, to brush your teeth and comb your hair before going to bed. Right. No more horror stories right before sleeping.
Turning on the bathroom light, you can see the haunted look in your eyes, the self-inflicted fear. It's what you loved most about good fiction, how it was able to make you feel so strongly. Just- not when you were alone.
Somewhere, in a world far away but incredibly close to our own, a group of people stood still as statues, watching as rapid images of men, women, children, elders flashed by. 
Now, any casual observer might be forgiven for thinking that these were ordinary humans, watching a strange compilation of horrified faces and reactions that came without context and left just as quickly.
If one lingered for just a heartbeat longer however, one might find the scene and people most unusal. They came in the strangest shapes and sizes, most cloaked in long robes that concealed hooves, furry arms, forked tongues and spiky tails. Some hid slitted eyes and gills with a heavy hood, skin and scales gleaming in the wildest assortment of colors one could imagine.
And all of them wore the same hungry expression. Hunger for fear, hunger for the sustenance and flavour that terror left in their mouths. Dark eyes, glowing eyes, hollow spaces. All of them directed towards the ever changing faces, living rooms, bed rooms, abandoned train stations.
"That one," a grating voice interrupted the flow suddenly, and the person kneeling in front of the churning water tilted their head questioningly. 
Rodolfo flicked his hands in a reversed motion, and the face of a young man appeared again, clearly drunk and stumbling along a dark street, looking over his shoulder every few seconds.
"Step forward then," he said, voice bored. The cloaked figure came closer, took one big step into the water that was no water at all, and then disappeared. 
The group of observers watched him appear behind the man for a moment, saw the human take a double glance before running. They all tasted the sweetness of his fear, the adrenaline as it pumped through his veins, when the cloaked man inhaled it deeply from the other side of the veil.
"Next," Rodolfo sighed, content. More images flashed as his hands moved in complicated patterns again, and Ghost kept seeing the same pretty face over and over again for the next few minutes.
Reading a book, standing in a dark kitchen, flashlight shining through the darkness, big haunted eyes staring into a mirror. 
She looked sweet, way too innocent to be clumped together with the criminals that showed up most often on this side. The ones that were scared to get caught, the ones about to be murdered. 
Usually, normal, kind people only showed for a fraction of a second at best: When they had a little jumpscare in the movie theater, when a car narrowly missed them, when walking through a dark tunnel at night.
But this girl? Her imagination must have been running wild, her heartbeat spiking every few minutes, drawing their attention over and over. 
Come on, sweet thing, Ghost thought, watching the moving images, another glimpse of her clutching onto her blanket as she stared at the open doors of her wardrobe in the dark. Shut your eyes, turn around. Don't look. 
Naturally, she couldn't hear him. Didn't listen to him as her mind kept going over scary scenarios, almost tangible to the assembled figures. 
Graves shifted next to him, head lowered until only the twin flames burning beneath his hood were visible. He licked over his sharp teeth, greedy delight hidden behind the otherwise handsome face, and something inside of Ghost snapped.
He knew that Graves preffered to scare women, that he enjoyed toying with them. Even amongst the worst and most successful monsters, he had a reputation. More than once, these women had suffered beyond simple fear. He'd scarred them for life, some never able to sleep without the lights on or the company of a trusted person. But as the lap dog of Shepherd, there wasn't much they could do to stop him - not yet, anyway.
"I'll take her," Ghost said, voice barely above a rumble as he saw Graves open his mouth to call out. 
Several others whirled around towards him, gaping in disbelief. He hadn't crossed over to the other side in... well. Long enough that some of them hadn't even been born yet.
Rodolfo shrugged his shoulder, only interested in finishing his shift as he reversed his motions and landed on the pretty face again, now half hidden behind her blanket. Her eyes were drooping shut, but they could all feel the jackhammering of her heart.
"What do you want for her?" Graves hissed, holding Ghost back with one skeletal hand. 
The shadows that usually curled around Ghost like snakes on a hot stone shot out towards the other man, who was wise enough to withdraw before they could wrap themselves around his worthless skull and crush it to pieces. 
"She's mine," he said simply, not acknowledging anyone except for Soap as he stepped forward. 
His friend was lounging in a pool full of water so dark that it looked like tar. Sharp teeth and white eyes gleamed up at Ghost as he raked long talons over the smooth stone floor.
"Got yerself a wee lass?" He called out to him, cackling and unimpressed when Ghost's shadows started crawling towards him in irritation. 
Ghost just jerked his head at the spot where Graves was quietly fuming, and Soap followed his gaze. "Ah. Understood, boss."
Stepping into the swirling mass was easy, and Ghost didn't glance back towards the stunned faces as he left their world and entered the wardrobe of his unsuspecting victim.
There is nothing there, you told yourself over and over again. No noises. No axe murderer. 
Your eyelids were growing heavier and heavier, and you'd nodded off for a few minutes before but had jerked back away from the flashing images of the horror show you had watched yesterday. It mingled with the storyline from your book, with the fright you had earlier when knocking down that stupid pan. 
Rubbing your cold feet against one another underneath the blanket, you slung an arm over your eyes, feeling silly and childish. What grown woman managed to talk herself into such a-
A soft sound rang out in the quiet of your bedroom.
You were used to the way that your apartment tended to creak sometimes, or the sounds of your neighbours walking downstairs. This was different. Like an inhale, like lungs expanding greedily.
You froze for a moment, and it was enough. Something soft curled around your ankle, and the scream never left your mouth as you were yanked across the bed, the air knocked straight out of you. 
It was dark, only the trusty candle flickered weakly, and so it took you a moment to orient yourself, to take in the massive figure looming over you. The man, no thing, kept dragging you towards himself, but he wasn't moving and were those-
Shadows crept along your legs and hips as you finally found your voice, a short, shrill scream in the night. You hoped that someone would hear, that the granny from downstairs hadn't taken out her hearing aid, and who the fuck was thinking about that just as they were about to get murdered?
The light of the candle illuminated a mask made of bone, a dark coat that seemed to be filled entirely by shadows. You wanted to scream again, tried to thrash and wriggle free, but more shadowy tendrils wrapped themselves around your face and cheeks, one delicately resting against your throat. 
It was bizarre, terrible. The black appendages were soft, yet firm, slid over your skin as though wet but left no trace. Like a caress, instead of ropes cutting into your flesh.
"Little one," a dark voice cooed, and the face of bones leaned closer. Terrified, you bit into the shadows holding your mouth shut, hoping to inflict pain, but no reaction came. The man, thing, monster inhaled again. "I am not here to hurt you."
You felt tears of hysteria and terror crawl up your throat, and if you'd been able, you would have laughed. Or sobbed. Perhaps a mixture of both. 
Bottomless, black eyes stared at you from the holes of the mask. The monster cocked its head to one side in such a curious, human gesture, that you stopped your wild attempts to free yourself for a moment. 
The tears did come spilling out then, hot and salty as they ran down your cheeks and temple, and into your hair.
You were going to die. You were sure of it. Killed by a monster that had snuck out of your closet and-
The bones came closer still, until you pressed your eyes together in fear, unable to watch as it surely got ready to devour you. 
Instead, something warm and soft followed the trail of tears. Like a mouth.
The monster purred. It reverberated through your entire body, the tendrils seemingly buzzing with delight.
"That's enough of that now," the dark voice spoke directly into your ear. A shiver ran down your spine, and the cold air of the room suddenly seemed twice as chilling. 
Gently, you were lifted into strong arms, your mouth released. The candle on the windowsill stuttered out, plunging your room in complete darkness as the monster pulled you into him. He lowered himself onto your bed, and you wondered how the massive frame would fit, before all the pent-up fear burst out of you again.
A tiny hiss, then choked-off wail escaped you, high-pitched. You clawed at the cloak and shadows, tried to punch the bone mask, anything, anything at all.
But he pressed you down into the mattress with ease, like a cat might chastise her kitten with the swipe of a paw and pulled your face into his chest, curled around your trembling body.
"I said," he repeated, unimpressed. "It is enough."
"Fuck you," you wheezed out, still struggling, but he only huffed out an amused breath. 
"So fiery, who would have thought? Were you not scared over a book only an hour ago, sweetling?"
You went completely still, not even daring to breathe.
"I- I beg your pardon?"
"Your fear, it called to me," he explained, like that was the most obvious thing on Earth. "And I answered."
Right. Right. You had, without a doubt, lost your mind. 
"This isn't real," you stated, voice hoarse. "I'm dreaming."
"No, you're not," the voice said, as smooth and dark as the night that had wrapped itself around you.
"You're not real," you said more firmly, muscles stiff and throat working against the tears and screams that were still lodged somewhere right behind your gritted teeth. "I am dreaming. And when I wake up in the morning, you will be gone."
A huff of amusement ghosted along your cheek, warm. Long fingers carded through your hair and the monster curled itself more firmly into every available space that wasn't occupied by your body.
"If that is what you wish to believe, then go ahead."
The two of you remained quiet for long, drawn out minutes. It was torture, your logical brain and instincts screaming at each other. Your stomach was cramping painfully and you took big, heaving gulps of air in order not to throw up.
"If I stop being scared, will you leave, then?"
That gave the monster pause, and he hummed in consideration. 
"It depends. If your contentment and happiness taste as sweet as your fear, I might want to stay."
Ghost watched, amused, as the young woman groped around under her pillow and pulled out her phone. If she thought to take a picture of him, she'd be disappointed. Their kind never showed up on the little screens humans were so attached to. 
But she didn't. Instead, she typed something in, and Ghost observed her face, fascinated. The blue light made her features look washed out, but still lovely. He could feel her body warming up beneath him, chilly skin regaining some of the heat that she would need to sleep well. Humans were so fragile, so needy.
He found that he didn't mind that so much this time.
Her eyes found his, scared but determined. The mood shifts that this woman was going through were impressive, and Ghost purred in delight over his good choice. 
The fear that had oozed out of her had been enough to feed even his greedy soul, long starved from only getting the little scraps others sent back through the portal. 
He'd practically feasted on it, and now bathed in the heady cocktail of confusion, determination, more fear and exhaustion.
"What are you doing, little one?" He asked her, gentle, to not startle her again. Raising one shaky finger, she brushed along the bone fragments of his mask. Their faces had been drifting closer and closer, a monster ready to swallow the innocent princess. 
Her touch sent electricity through his entire being, and his eyes widened, shadows curling and undulating around her bed.
"You are not real," she whispered back, despite all the evidence that he was. "So I will watch some calming YouTube videos, and then go to bed."
Stunned, Ghost watched as she snuggled deeper into her pillow and his hold and then pressed play. It took a few minutes, and she had clicked on the next one already, scent sleepy and on edge - but then he readjusted his grip, until she fell back into him, face pressed against his chest once more and he could see the random woman on her phone screen, planting seeds into pots.
Ghost rested his chin on her head, gulping down the lungfuls of anxiety and fear that poured out of her, eating away all her worries. 
"What's your name?" She asked, voice high.
He considered her question for a while.
"I have been called many names," he answered eventually. "But my friends just call me Ghost."
"What a silly name," she snorted. "You look nothing like a ghost."
He bristled at that. None had ever dared to laugh at him before.
"But since you are my monster, and don't really exist, I will give you a proper name," she continued, rambling a little as she clicked on the next video of the same gardener woman. 
Ghost went very still, mouth opening already to keep her from saying anything more. To give one of them a name, to claim a monster for yourself and-
"Don't-" he started, trying to save what had been doomed the moment he tasted her tears on his tongue.
"Simon!" She said, tapping his bone mask again, eyes half-lidded. A tiny chuckle escaped her. "A kind name. Simon wouldn't come out of the wardrobe to eat my corpse, Simon would bring me chocolate and rub my back after a long day. Wouldn't you, Simon?" 
He stared back at her as she chuckled once more, then hugged him. She still clearly thought that this was some elaborate, strange, creepy dream. That she'd open her eyes in the morning and watch autumn leaves drift by her window, before getting ready to go to work - soon, she would forget all about him and this night. 
Simon. The way she'd said the name, so carelessly and sure at the same time. Simon.
Oh, little human, he thought in despair as he felt his entire being shift, focusing on her tiny frame. What have you done?
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Part:    1 - Ghost - you just read 'A Proper Name'! 2 - Price - read 'A Sea Of Gold And Green' here! 3 - Soap - read 'A Debt Repaid' here! 4 - ?
Okay, I'm not gonna lie, I absolutely loved writing this. It was so much fun, especially the supernatural elements. Hopefully everybody is as excited for the rest of the Halloween Special as I am! Now that October is finally here, and all of you voted with such a resounding yes for this little series, I can't wait to explore more monsters and their personalities 🖤
We still have König, Price, Soap and Gaz - all of them need their own little human to adore and protect. Sigh.
My general COD writing masterlist with all my longer stories, a COD headcanons masterlist + the COD Halloween Monster Special. It‘s all linked separately in my pinned blog post for easy navigation as well!
Until next time. - A✨
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gothicflowers · 10 days
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Almost done writing a SoftDom! X Sub!Reader and I still don’t know who should be the Dom! in this fic. So since I passed 50 followers yesterday how about I let you all vote!
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shadowlali · 7 months
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nightclub
COD - Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra x fem!reader
[18+] wc: ~1.6k summary: rudy helps you forget your cheating ex. masterlist
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warnings: NSFW, cheating/controlling ex fiancé, mentions of alcohol, implied age gap, explicit, public grinding, riding, squirting, creampie, unprotected sex, some proofreading a/n: inspired by the song LA FAMA by Rosalía featuring The Weeknd.
Any other time you would have left the crowded nightclub but tonight was different. Tonight you're finally going to let go of your past life. The life where you were constantly made to feel small and insignificant. After you found him with another woman, you realized he never cared for you. The ring, a symbol of love and trust, meant nothing. Despite it taking awhile for you to understand, you were ready to move on.
You're slightly tipsy, enjoying the sway and heat of the bodies around you. You and your friends decided against the balcony and private rooms, preferring to stay below. It's not long before you feel a pair of hands lightly grasp your waist from behind. You're surprised at who you see when you turn around.   
You lean in for a hug, getting the scent of crisp cologne. “Rudy? Hey!”
His arms are firm as they wrap around you. "Tanto tiempo sin verte, princesa.” [Long time no see, princess]
When the other soldiers invited him to the popular nightclub in town, Rudy had been bored enough to say yes. He was about to call it an early night and head back to base before he saw you. Your older brother had brought you around to base a few times, wanting to introduce you to his team and where he worked.
Rudy was instantly mesmerized by you, feeling disappointed once he realized you were in a relationship. He had stepped aside to respect your relationship, but that wasn’t necessary anymore. 
You feel flustered by how affectionately he's speaking to you, having only seen him a few times. You can’t deny the attraction towards him, feeling heat pool between your thighs as he leans in to hear you better. 
“Since when are you in clubs, Rudy?”
He laughs, ”Podría preguntarte lo mismo. ¿Y tu prometido?” [I could ask you the same thing. Where’s your fiancé?]
Your smile falters a bit, ”Uh – pues… pues ya rompimos.” [well… well we broke up]
Rudy squeezes your hand, ”He didn’t deserve you anyway. No te preocupes.” [Don’t worry]
You squeeze his hand back, ”I know. I’m celebrating que finalmente estoy soltera.”  [that I’m finally single] 
Rudy hum in approval, ”Well if you're celebrating, entonces baila conmigo.” [Dance with me]
You giggle as he spins you in a small circle, loving the attention he's giving you. You give your friends a thumbs up when they signal at you, letting them know you're okay with him. When you first met Rudy, you were struck by how sweet he was.
Of course you thought he was handsome, but back then you were in love. Now, you're single and dancing so closely to him. His body is warm and fits so nicely against yours. It's easy to dance with Rudy, his hands are either on your hips or lower back. No matter the song, you match each other's rhythm. 
“¿Desde cuándo eres un buen bailarín, Rudy?” [Since when are you a good dancer, Rudy?]
He doesn’t respond, just smiles and brings your arms up to rest on his chest while he keeps his hands firmly on your waist. Maybe it's how confident you feel after two drinks or his beautiful doe eyes, or wanting to forget everything in the arms of someone new, but you need him. You make a decision, turning your body around right when the song changes.
You press your back to his front, feeling his hands splay across your lower belly. If he was surprised, he doesn’t show it, only moving your hips in tune with his. You place your hands over his, sliding one hand to rest right underneath the swell of your breast. You lean your head back against his shoulder, grinding against his hardening length. 
His mouth presses to your ear, ”You sure, princesa?” 
You shiver, his mouth warm, ”Sí, Rodolfo.” 
The nightclub is dark enough that no one pays any mind to your movements. Your body feels hot and needy, your short dress suddenly constricting. Rudy’s hand moves to your chest, lightly running his fingers over your nipple and his lips over the column of your neck. You suddenly feel his rough tongue on your neck, licking in small strokes.
The music is loud enough that no one hears the deep moan escape your throat. Rudy pushes against your lower belly with his other hand to bring your ass closer. You feel his thick bulge and shudder with anticipation at the idea of it sliding inside of you. He groans low in your ear, moving his hands to stop your hips. 
“Follow me.” 
“Okay,” you breathe out. 
He grasps your hand, leading you to the stairs that rise to the balcony. Rudy is waved in by one of the security guards once you reach the top and he continues to the hallway that leads to the private rooms. His hand holds yours tightly as if to make sure you won’t be separated from him in the crowded hallway.
Your heart races once he's found an empty room and locks the door behind you. The rooms are dark, with purple lighting and smooth leather couches pressed to the walls. Rudy turns to face you and lifts your chin with his fingers.
He leans in for a kiss, his lips soft and eager. Your lips tingle with each relentless nip from his teeth, making your breathing stutter. His hands travel to your shoulders to push the thin straps of your dress down. You throw your small bag onto one of the couches and stand in nothing but your soaked panties and high heels. 
Rudy walks backwards towards the closest couch, having you straddle him without ever breaking the kiss. You feel the cool air caress your heated skin and the material of his pants rake your inner thighs.
You waste no time in grinding your panty covered pussy over his cock, hitting your clit perfectly. Rudy gives a few hard upward thrusts, loving the rhythm you set. Your hips alternate from small circles to light bounces, feeling a fire spread throughout your body. 
“Oh fuck – I can’t take it anymore, Rudy.” 
His hands move to grip your waist, giving another hard thrust. “¿Me necesitas, princesa?” [You need me, princess?]
“Y – fuck – yes, I need you Rudy.” 
“ I’ll give you what you need.” 
He opens his belt buckle and your hand dives inside his pants to pull him out, veiny and hard in your palm. Rudy’s breathing becomes ragged as your hand gave a few pumps along his length. You stand up on shaky legs, kicking off your heels and panties to straddle him once more. 
“Slowly, princesa,” he says as his hand grips your waist to prevent you from dropping too fast. 
You drag his tip up and down your slit, loving how it feels against you. Your pussy is sticky and warm once you slowly slide down. You both moan deeply, feeling how beautiful and right you fit with each other. It takes a few bounces for you to bury Rudy’s entire cock inside of you. 
“Holy shit –” Rudy gasps, his eyes watching his cock disappear inside of you.
He stretches and fills you so deliciously. You place your hands on his chest and began to slowly slide up and down his thick shaft, your creamy juices making the movement easy. You slide all the way up, leaving only his thick tip inside, before sliding straight down. You can't believe how thick and hot he is inside of you.
Rudy moans with each slow drag of your hips, loving how soft and wet you were. You twist your hips, wanting to hit the spongy spot inside of you and in the process make Rudy throw his head back from the pleasure. Rudy’s fingers dig deeply into your hips but he lets you move at your own pace. You lean in to nip his chin and neck, leaving red marks. 
“So fuck – fucking pretty,” he groans. “You ride that cock so good, princesa.” 
“You're so deep, Rudy,” your moan, voice hoarse. “You stretch me so good.” 
Your clit rubs at his base, feeling hot sparks shoot throughout your body with each bounce. You tighten around him, not wanting Rudy to slip out. He hisses, moving to knead your soft breasts and pinch your sensitive nipples.
Rudy’s fingers are rough, each pinch sending pulses directly to your pussy. Your movements become choppy and harsh, grinding your clit against him. Rudy suckd one of your nipples in his mouth, loving as they jiggle in his face. He alternates between each, leaving bites and kisses.
“Oh fuck – fuck, Rudy!” You tighten, squirting on his cock and causing Rudy to slip out.
“Sit. Back. Down.” Rudy enunciates each word with a harsh thrust upwards. 
Your eyes rollback as you come, screaming Rudy's name over and over again. Your lower bodies are soaked from your juices, only helping Rudy with his thrusts. You fall into his chest, his hands gripping your ass to meet his pounding hips. His hands are big and able to manipulate you lower body to take his poundings.
Rudy whimpers in your ear as he spills his cum inside of you, his thrusts deep. It not until you're both overstimulated and sensitive that Rudy finally stops. He wraps his arms around your back while your heart beats slow down. You pepper kisses and small licks on his neck, loving how good his cologne smells on his sweaty skin. 
“¿Te gustó, princesa? ¿Sí o… sí?” [Did you like it? Yes or… yes?] 
You laugh, ”Of course I did, Rodolfo.” 
The air conditioner cools your sweaty bodies while you continue to kiss and caress each other, the fog clearing and the need coming back. You give an experimental twist of your hips, feeling Rudy harden inside of you.
The music continues to vibrate throughout the room as your kisses turn to bites and your hips began to grind once more, your ex nothing but a distant memory.
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headcanonenthusiast · 3 months
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COD characters x virgin reader headcanons
This was made with gender-neutral readers in mind. (For most of them, anyway. Valeria's is fem leaning, but everyone else is neutral.)
This will include König, Simon Riley, Valeria Garza, Rodolfo Parra, Alejandro Vargas, Alex Keller and Kyle Garrick.
Yall I accidentally uploaded this when it was halfway done TWICE and in my panic to delete it the first time, I didn't copy everything 😭😭 I'm crying rn/j
Anyways it's a very snowy day, I'm all nice and bundled up, so it's time to write >:)
(I completely understand that this type of content is not everyone's cup of tea, and that's ok! But, please scroll and ignore if this type of content isn't your thing as opposed to leaving any sort of negative comments.)
NSFW under the cut.
Enjoy!
Alejandro Vargas
-Romantic? Romantic. Let me tell you that every part of your first time with him is so passionate and romantic, it's nearly like a fairytale.
-He won't just dive right in, nononono, like I said, he's a romantic lover. Therefore, to "set the mood", he's either taking you out to a fancy restaurant or cooking dinner for you.
-Then, he's going to give you plenty of foreplay to ensure that you're ready.
-Very passionate sex. Tries his best to go slower for your sake, but something about him being the one taking your virginity raises his ego by 500%.
-"Thats it, mi chula/o (My girl/boy). Just relax, let me make you feel good."
-Will still be sure to leave hickeys on you, though, even if it is your first time.
-In his mind, his hickeys are proof that you're his.
-"There we go, that's better. You look so gorgeous/handsome covered with hickeys."
-Chuckles softly in your ear if you complain about the hickeys. He'll kiss you apologetically and refrain from leaving them. (this time, anyway.)
-Oh, and he refuses to edge you during your first time. He's actually determined to make you cum at least twice. If he hasn't, he's failed you.
-Aftercare includes you being bedbound at least until noon the next day. Alejandro does NOT want you straining yourself, even if you aren't sore. He'll get whatever you want, whether it's food, drink or the remote. The only time you're getting out of bed is to shower, which he'll insist on joining you for.
Valeria Garza
-Really? She's your first choice? Praying for you rn my friend/j
-Okay in all seriousness, as rough as she is during sex, she'll do her best to be gentle. Doesn't want your intro to sex to be a bad/painful one.
-Just because she's being gentler than normal doesn't mean she still isn't gonna boss you around, though. Will ALWAYS be on top, no matter what.
-"Stay still, stay still. You're basically asking me to make it hurt. Is that what you want, hm? To make it fucking hurt?"
-If you listen to her (God forbid if you don't), she'll nod in approval and press a kiss to your clit.
-"There we go, corazón (sweetheart). It's not that hard to listen to me, now is it?"
-If you don't listen to her however, she'll go a bit harder with her strap/fingers. Not as hard as she normally would, but you'll probably be pretty overstimulated.
-"Don't start with that bullshit. I told you to listen to me. If only you had behaved yourself like I asked. Dios, eres imposible (God, you're impossible.), not obeying me yet getting all whiney when I punish you for it."
-Surprisingly doesn't edge you, even if you haven't been listening. In fact, she encourages you to cum on her fingers/strap.
-"Shit, you're gonna cum? You wanna cum? You're lucky I'm feeling generous, especially after how you've been acting. Go ahead, muñeca (doll). Cum all over my strap/fingers."
-Aftercare includes her pressing gentle kisses to your temple and brushing your hair out of your face. You're welcome to do whatever you want after that, but not without Valeria lingering close by, just in case her pretty girl needs anything.
Rodolfo Parra
-Gentle and loving sex? Gentle and loving sex.
-He'll praise you SO MUCH. You could do the smallest thing and he'll just shower you in compliments.
-"Do you have any idea how beautiful/handsome you are, cariño? (Honey/sweetheart) This body is fucking irresistible. What an amazing woman/man/person you are, amor (love.)"
-Moves deathly slow. He's so careful not to hurt you that the actual process of stretching your pussy/ass out takes forever.
-Whispers praises and compliments the entire time, though.
-His hands gently rub your hips in an attempt to soothe you, constantly asking if you're okay.
-"You alright, amor? (Love). Yeah? I'm not being too rough, am I? Good, good. Let me know if it hurts."
-Oh, and his lips never leave your body. Your neck and face especially.
-Aftercare includes the most heavenly massages imaginable. He'll massage you anywhere you want, your shoulders, legs, anywhere you want to be massaged, he'll do it. Similarly to Alejandro, you're also bedbound. Rudy would rather die before letting you do anything after sex, especially your first time.
-And like I said earlier, Rudy has a voice kink. So, hearing you talk afterwards makes him happy. Talk to him about anything and he'll listen so intently while he massages you.
Kyle Garrick
-Like Rudy, constant praise.
-Seems so fixated on the fact that this is your first time, so he's very concentrated on going slow. (In the beginning, anyway. May or may not get a bit drunk off the feeling of your pussy/ass around his cock.)
-The slowest thrusts imaginable. Starts out very shallow, but he'll carefully go deeper into your pussy/ass. Ensures you're ready before, though.
-He also suddenly gains the best hearing in the world. If you make even the slightest sound of discomfort, he'll stop and check in with you.
-"Christ, you alright, love? Too fast?"
-And even if he's going slower, sometimes he'll get so lost in how good you feel that a bit of communication is in order to ground him.
-"Right, sorry, baby. Here-why don't I go at a few different paces and you see which one's the best, yeah?"
-Never makes you feel like you're taking away his enjoyment if you speak up about something you dislike/like. It's only enjoyable to him if you like it, too.
-There is NO such thing as too much talking with him. Please show how much you like/dislike something, and he'll keep it in mind for the rest of his life.
-"Oh, yeah? You like it like that? I'll have to do it more often, then."
-Aftercare also probably includes some chatter. Maybe a quick order of the most delicious food possible while binge watching your favorite show/movie. Oh, and yall are definitely cuddling all night long, too.
König
-So, König is big. And he knows he's big. That's why he's honestly a little anxious to fuck you with his dick during your first time.
-Bro is probably pacing around the room like a depressed zoo tiger for a bit before he sits you down and has a talk with you.
-"I'm sorry, darling, but I don't think you could take me. Especially not as your first time. Are you sure you want to do this?"
-If you ensure that you'll be okay, the foreplay will be insane. He's going to slowly stretch you out over his fingers, gently rubbing your clit/tip with his thumb while making you repeat a chosen safeword.
-"Say it again, liebling (darling). Can you be louder for me? Good, that's a good girl/boy. I want you to say that the moment it starts hurting, okay?"
-He's also gonna eat you out/suck you off as well. Like I said, lots of foreplay.
-And when he does finally start fucking you? He's barely gonna put four inches in. So fixated on not hurting you that he barely realizes that you're moaning softly in approval under him.
-When he does hear those moans, though, he's gonna give you a small smile and ask if you're okay.
-"Aw, listen to those moans. Does that feel good? Mhm, good. Just let me know if it hurts, liebe." (Love)
-Won't even cum inside you the first time if you finish first. He doesn't want to overstimulate you at all. Besides, you're always welcome to watch him jerk off (or even help him out 🤭)
-Aftercare includes you using this behemoth of a man as a bed. You're gonna lay on top of him and act as his personal weighted blanket for the night. Then, the next day is all about you. He's gonna do WHATEVER you want the next day. No food, clothing nor activity is off limits for his perfect liebling ❤
Alex Keller
-If he's your first choice, then congratulations. You have amazing taste.
-Might be biased here bc I find him so unbelievably fine, but Alex would be great as your first time.
-He's just so gentle and attentive, starting by carefully stroking your cock/rubbing your clit to calm you down.
-"Its okay, dolly. I know, I know it doesn't feel good right now. How about I just stay still for a bit, and you tell me when you're ready again, okay?"
-And when you do give permission for him to move again, he's kissing your cheek while praising you.
-"Mm, you're so damn tight. Could spend the whole day in this little pussy/ass and never get tired."
-Ensures that his thrusts are shallow and slow, only going to just behind the tip of his cock and seeing how you react.
-So unbelievably sweet. Makes you feel like the most special person in the world.
-Oh, and he holds your hand. Both physically and metaphorically. He entwines your hands together, talking you through each and every step.
-"Can you spread your legs a little farther, please? Good, that's a good girl/boy."
-Tries his best to make sure you cum first, and when you do he'll carefully fill you up, slowly pulling out to watch it drip out of your hole.
-"Ain't that a pretty sight. You okay, darling? Yeah? Did that feel good?"
-Aftercare will consist of a warm shower/bath together before returning to bed to cuddle all night long. Oh, and Alex is totally kissing the back of your neck as yall spoon, whispering praises and sweet words in your ear.
Simon Riley
-Like König, I feel like he'd be a little hesitant to take you. Not necessarily as anxious as him, but he knows that once he's inside you, he probably won't be great at going slow.
-"Look, love, it's not that I don't want to, it's just that I know myself. I'm gonna have a hard time being gentle."
-He can't resist you for long, though. Eventually he does decide to give it a try, but not after the addition of a safeword and physical signals to show if you're uncomfortable.
-Although Simon's unsure at first, he's actually able to keep a clear head and not get drunk off how good you feel.
-Does his best to listen for your safeword or any physical signal that you wanna tap out.
-Because of this, he's more quiet than normal, but he can't help but grunt softly in your ear with the occasional praise for doing so well.
-"You're takin' me so well, love. Good girl/boy, I'm proud of you."
-Because his mind isn't as foggy as he thought it'd be, he's only putting in a few inches. He's sure you'll be able to take all of him eventually, just not right now.
-"Just the tip, baby. No, not puttin' anymore in. It'll be too much for you."
-Gently rubs your clit/tip to soothe you, even if it doesn't hurt much.
-When you cum, so does he. Ghost proceeds to stay there for a little while, doing a quick check in before pulling out and watching his cum drip down your body.
-"Shit, you see what you do to me, baby?"
-Aftercare is similar to what my headcanons on him said. And although he's tired, he makes sure you go to sleep first this time, just so he can admire his gorgeous girl/handsome boy/etc for a little while longer.
YALL ITS FINALLY DONE 😭 I accidentally uploaded this unfinished TWICE and this is my quick attempt at a rewrite. I tried my best 🙏
And I'm sure you can all tell that I had fun w/ the Alex headcanons. I'm sorry but he's just so..😍
Let me know who I should do next!
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