Alejandro Vargas X Fem Reader; Valeria Garza X Reader

biker!Ghost 1 1 , 2 , 3 , 3.5 , 4

What are you reading??

A/N: this was requested by @thicc-plum so I hope y'all enjoy my friend. This took way too long, please let me know if you catch any spelling mistakes.

This includes 141, Alejandro & Rodolfo.

Summary: The reader gets caught reading a smut book and the boys tease the hell out of her.

CW: Brief depictions of sexual interactions, the boys 'teasing' you.

Y'all really want a part 2 huh... I've made you a lil part 2 for y'all.

You were sitting alone at a table in the canteen. Lunch was almost over but you hadn't busied yourself with food. You were sitting in the corner with one of your books in hand. You always loved to read, but this book in particular you had refrained from reading around the others. It was... A different kind of book. Not one with little swordsmen going on long adventures to sweep away their friends from the perils of danger.

It was one with tension, heat. The kind that nestled in your stomach and bubbled up through your chest, making you feel a small, almost tangible piece of the intimacy you read about.

You were engrossed in the book. The atmosphere around you was drowned out as you read.

His hand guided her thigh, skirt riding up past her hip and their eyes met. Their breaths tangled in the warm bedroom, sweat soaking into the sheets-

"What are you reading??"

You gasp and slam your book shut. Your hands tremble as you push it away from you.

Johnny smirks, laughing as he sits down. "Oh you should see your face!"

You scoff. "Not funny Johnny."

Johnny grabs the book from your trembling hands and examines the cover.

"Oh~ what is this risque piece of artwork??" He flips through the pages, reading over some of the sentences. You attempt to grab the book back but Johnny puts his elbow up to keep you away while he reads.

His eyes go wide. "Woah!! That's some descriptive oral- my goodness!"

"Johnny!!" You jump and grab the book back, pulling it to your chest.

Your cheeks go red. "Don't tell the others, please??"

"Depends, can I borrow the book??"

"What are you going to do with it??"

"Read it, obviously. It looks good."

He gives you his signature smirk and you can't help but feel inclined to agree. You grumble under your breath. "whatever, I'll finish and then you can read it. But please return it!!"

Johnny nods. "Of course."

"By the way, you're late for your meeting with Price. You don't want me to tell him you're late because of an innocent little book, would you??"

He grins. "Wouldn't want dear old captain to know you're doing such naughty little things." He squeezes your thigh.

He stands from his chair.

Your cheeks burn redder, but the time manages to take your attention.

You look at your watch and curse. "Don't tell anyone Johnny! I'm serious!!"

He winks at you as he walks away. "You can count on me y/n!"

You grumble and hold your book close. Why on earth would Johnny want to read it?? Was he messing with you?? Or was he actually interested.

You rush out of the canteen and shove your book in your bag. You just hope Johnny wouldn't tell anyone what he saw you reading.

You will admit, yes, you had it coming. You weren't doing your paperwork as it had gotten too boring too quickly and you'd given up for a bit. No one likes doing paperwork. The only ones who didn't complain about it happened to be Price, Ghost, and Gaz. You were none of them.

So you'd kicked up your feet and started to read your book. It was a book you'd gotten on leave and you had kept it fairly secret from the others, it wasn't a book you wanted them to know about.

It was better than doing paperwork. And much more fun.

You must have lost track while reading however, getting too caught up in the endless pages of sticky hot mess.

"He latched onto her neck, sucking a deep hickey into her supple throat. She cried out his name softly into the night, arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders-"

There was a knock on the door.

You shot up, scrambling immediately to bring your feet off your desk and straighten up. You slam your book back into the desk drawer.

"Come in!"

Price enters, making you gulp.

"Y/n, we haven't seen you for a while, I wanted to see how things are coming along in here."

He sees the enormous pile of paperwork on your desk and crosses his arms. You immediately look down and away, knowing you would probably be in trouble for this.

He sighs and comes around the corner of the desk, seeing the still open drawer with your book in It. He sees the very risque cover and pulls it out before you can stop him.

"Was this what had your attention??"

You gulp, getting anxious as he flips through the pages.

He hums thoughtfully. He flips the pages and reads through some of the things, his facial expressions changing with each new scenario played out in the book.

He eventually closes it and places it in one of his pockets.

"Captain-"

"Shh, I've seen enough. If this is what you'd like to occupy your time with, very well then."

"I'm sorry."

He tuts. "Be a good girl and finish your paperwork. When you're done, we can discuss this little book of yours."

Your cheeks burn red and you look away.

"Yes Captain."

"That's a good girl."

Price walked off, leaving a heavy feeling in your stomach. You had a weird new motivation to finish your paperwork though.

The evening was quiet and the others were out. It was just you and Gaz on base and you were relishing in the quiet environment. Wrapped up in a blanket, the fireplace crackling a few feet away from you, nothing better.

With a book in hand the world could only be perfect. Your eyes feel tired, even as you read the book that always makes your stomach drop and your emotions rise.

You thought Gaz had gone to bed, so you felt comfortable reading it without the others around. You would always read this book in your room, it never saw the light of day around the guys.

"He whispered low in her ear, nipping at the corner of her lobe. His hands groped down across her collar, fingers tangling in her necklace..."

You continued to read, barely registering the creak of the floorboards. You'd assumed it was the house settling since you hadn't heard the door. Nor had you noticed the shadow bast behind you, soft brown eyes reading each delicately picked word with you.

Suddenly, you feel breathing near your ear. Your heartbeat quickens and your fingers feel tense. The feeling in your stomach growls hotter with each second.

"That seems a little naughty to be reading out here, don't you think sweetheart?"

You jump, nearly screaming as a voice cuts through your concentration, shattering the perfect dream of being wrapped in an embrace just as addictive as the words in your book.

Gaz grins, his hand touching your shoulder and running down your arm to flip the page of the book.

"K-Kyle- I didn't realize you were-"

"Shh. Read it out loud."

Your cheeks turn deep red. "W-what-??"

"Read it out loud to me sweetheart."

Your heart rate quickens and your voice catches in your throat. You want to say yes just as badly as you want to say no. But the way Kyle strokes his thumb over your hand made you willing.

"S-sure..."

Kyle hums. "Good. I think you'll want to finish this next chapter before the others return. You wouldn't want them to hear all the things you've been reading about."

You gulp, but you reluctantly start to read.

You couldn't sleep. So naturally in the early hours of the morning when you figured no one else was awake, you turned to the kitchen for a snack.

You patter through the hallway with your book in hand. You turn on the kitchen light and make yourself some tea to soothe your body, considering you were sore from the lack of sleep.

You sat down at the kitchen table with your tea and opened your book. The cover was bright red with dazzling shiny line work around two figures. One holding the other in a more suggestive manner. Each chapter displaying a new set of characters put through taboo and risque situations. All of them leading to a spicy climax.

Literally.

You sunk into the quiet atmosphere and started to read. Your eyes drowned into the words, hands holding the book firmly.

"He pulled her back, his large hand wrapped tightly around her throat. His sneer could almost look evil to anyone who wasn't her. Treated like a doll in his large hands, putting so much trust into his punishments."

You gulp, not realizing how heavy your breathing had gotten until a hand wraps around your throat.

It catches you so off guard you whine. Thumb and forefinger pressing into the sensitive parts under your jaw, making your insides coil and twist.

You bite your lip, hands trembling.

Warm breath whisps over your cheek and Ghost's rough Manchester voice breaks the silence.

"I always knew you were into some weird shit."

His other hand reaches out and takes the book from you, inspecting the cover.

"Ghost-"

His hand tightens on your throat, making you moan quietly.

He hums, flipping through some of the pages.

Your cheeks start to burn, watching out of the corner of your eye as he flips. You can't see his face, you can't gauge his reaction. All you know is his hand is wrapped so nicely around your throat, body hidden in the shadows it makes you feel as small as the girl in the story.

He gets to a certain page and chuckles. "You are into some weird shit."

You grab his wrist, wanting to pry him away and wanting him closer. It feels like a dream how it is all playing out, you are scared you want more.

He places the book down and squeezes your throat, getting another soft moan out of you.

He lets go and chuckles. "I could do better than he can."

It makes you want to pass out. He lets you go and when you turn around he's already walking away. Your arms and legs are shaking but you rush after him, wanting to know what he meant.

He doesn't lock his door when he disappears, and you know all too well it's an invitation into the book you'd just been reading.

(also I love this gif, look at Rodolfo just effortlessly toss that crate- boy you are amazing and I love you)

Look, everyone on base knew you were a little freaky at times. It was no secret to anyone. And it also wasn't a secret you might have a teensy tiny little thing for your colonel and the sergeant major.

That was not the point however.

You had just finished up a long day of training with the Vaqueros. You'd been out all afternoon, which was why you were a bit surprised you were being called into Alejandro and Rodolfo's office for a little chat.

What this chat was about, you weren't entirely sure.

But you finished up your routines and set off for their office.

You knock on the door, hearing Alejandro's voice beckon you in. When you open the door you're greeted by both Alejandro and Rodolfo. Alejandro is sitting while Rodolfo is standing next to him with something in his hands.

You would know that velvet patterned trophy book anywhere.

Your blood turns cold.

"Take a seat y/n." Alejandro smiles at you with that smile. The one that makes your heart flutter and your stomach flop.

You nod and take a seat. "What's this about?"

Rodolfo leans over and places the book in front of you. "Look familiar? It has your name written on the inside cover."

You gulp and nod, your cheeks going a bit red. "Yes sir sergeant, I know the book quite well."

"I think you would, considering how worn it, must get read a lot."

By now Rodolfo has come around to your side, one hand snaking up your arm to your shoulder and squeezing the muscles.

You gulp again.

Alejandro opens the book and flips through the pages. "Such a filthy book y/n, there's only one reason you could read this book so much."

You look away bashfully.

"Does it give you a high, Y/n??"

"N-no colonel!"

Alejandro stands and flips to a certain page. He taps the frame of the book and bends down in front of you, guiding your gaze back to his with his thumb and forefinger.

"Care to explain this then?"

You look down at the page he points to, you know it well. Rereading it over and over. It had crinkled edges from your sweaty fingers and dirt makes from the small traces your nails would leave.

You reread the words you practically knew by heart.

"She cries loudly, voice broken into sobs. The man behind her keeps a firm grip in her hair and tugs her back against him. The second man gazes down into her teary eyes, letting her breathe a fresh breath of air before plunging back into her throat."

Your cheeks were red enough, tainted deeper when you saw the scribbled names of your colonel and sergeant major at the bottom of the page.

Rodolfo's hand curls in your hair, his soft voice near your ear. "Considere esto su castigo por leer tal suciedad."

Your brow wobbles, but you can't run from them, you never could.

I would give anything to know Ghost’s inner monologue during any part of the last fic you posted. Is he purposefully getting into her space at the beginning (because we all know Ghost is too aware of his body and his trauma to accidentally touch anyone, let along have his entire side against them)? When he walks in does he just blue-screen, is that why he doesn’t immediately leave? What is he thinking when he sees our wet cunt still stuffed? When he finds out no one has touched us that way, or made us cum? When we want him to fuck us so badly we beg him to do it raw? Does his heart break a little when he heard us say we thought he left us, while we were so vulnerable and still dirty? Is he also freaking out about the fraternization stuff, or has he decided that we are his in the same way that he is ours, and Price will just have to cover up another damn thing for his team?

yes to all of this

(a little drabble part 2 to this)

Ghost has a little habit, when you're concerned. He's usually hyper-aware of his body and his limbs and where he's touching, what's around and beside and behind him. His skin itches sometimes when he's touched without warning, though he always hides his reactions. But with you... he's not so careful. He lets his legs spread, his arms stretch, lets himself crowd into your space. There's something intoxicating about the way that you let him, the way you never lean away from him. You're just so soft, so warm, always letting him infringe on your space with a sweet little smile as though you're happy to see him. You're one of the rare people who are happy to see him, and it makes something uncomfortably warm wriggle in his belly.

So yeah, he leans into you when he sits next you in the rec room. It's mostly muscle memory, because you've never minded before. But today, you're a little tense. Ghost knows you, knows you well. He can see the way your spine is a little stiff, the way your eyes are a little glassy as you stare off into the distance. You look a little... ruffled. Ghost watches you carefully out of the corner of his eye, probes a little, but backs off when you dance around his question. He's knows boundaries well, and he won't push yours. Even if he thinks it's... strange that you leave so quickly, eyes averted.

Finding your phone wedged into the seat after you left was like an opportunity. Simon Riley has never had much, he's always made do, and yet he's admittedly greedy when it comes to you. He's not often a selfish man - he's never had enough to be selfish about - and yet he's hungry for your time, your smiles, your touch. And you're always so generous with yourself, so he doesn't second-guess his decision to follow you down the hall to your quarters. He's never been there before, and he wants to see your space, hungry for any shred of you he can get.

He should have knocked. It was rude not to. But he's so, so fucking glad he didn't.

He's a little rough when he opens your door, a little too eager to get into the room and see your pretty grateful smile when he gives you your phone back. But when he gets that door open, sees the sight of you on your back among your sheets, legs spread, head back, eyes fluttered closed, his mind goes fucking blank.

He watches you scramble, watches the mortification flash across your face as you attempt to shut your adorable little pink vibrator off as you shut your legs, depriving him of the prettiest view he's ever seen. Ghost is not a man with a weakness for pretty things, but it seems only natural that you're the exception, you and your pretty wet puffy pussy.

He hardly even knows what happens, his fingers and toes numb and his attention narrowed down to you, only you. Before he knows it, he's sitting on your bed, feeling enormous and ungainly next to you as you stare up at him. He reaches out, his big hands scarred and ugly against your pretty skin when he holds your vibrator, his blood buzzing at the thought that this had been inside you mere moments ago.

He never thought he'd be envious of a piece of fucking plastic, but here he is. A big man, a deadly soldier, reduced to a fool at your bedside. And yet, you don't even seem to notice. You're so good, so sweet, parting your legs when he asks you to and letting him look.

He asks you to finish. It's bold, and stupid, and greedy. He wants to see you come - he already knows it'll be the prettiest thing he's ever seen, that it'll be seared in his mind forever. In this moment, he thinks he'd do anything just to watch your eyes roll back, your face go slack, to hear the pretty little noises he knows you'll make.

It escalates faster than he could have imagined. Such a sweet thing, laying back and showing him how you use your vibrator. And he watches eagerly, his breath catching at the realisation that this is how you play with yourself when you're alone. You're clumsy about it, which is absolutely adorable.

But then you make a confession, and Ghost thinks he might be spiralling. You've never been touched, never been fucked, never come. It feels like an outrage. He thinks of how tense you'd been earlier, shifting beside him in your blue jeans, and he just thinks... what the fuck? Prettiest girl he's ever seen, and you don't even know how to touch your own cunt properly? He wants to show you, more than anything he's ever wanted before. Greedy. You make him so greedy.

"Let me try."

He's between your legs before he even knows how he got there, pulling your stupid little vibrator out so he can replace it with his fingers. And if he thought he was greedy, he soon finds that he's well-matched when it comes to you. You're just as eager, just as hungry. Spreading your legs and whimpering, all those sweet, sweet noises that spill out of your mouth, just like he knew they would.

You have the prettiest cunt he's ever seen. Pretty, slick, swollen, just as hungry as the rest of you. He alternates between his fingers and his mouth and your little dildo, a little drunk on your taste and your soft thighs when they squeeze around his head. He kisses you too, because he can't help himself. Greedy.

He's never been a chatty man, but his cock is so hard now and he knows his mouth is running. He can't help himself. Your salty-sweet slick on his tongue has loosened it; he barely even knows what he's saying, or what he's promising, but by god he's going to live up to it.

Then, your lovely sweet voice, all breathless and pitchy, asking “Can I try yours?”

Not only that, you beg. You plead with him to fuck you, to do it raw, as if he was ever going to say no. As if he'd ever be strong enough to say no. He can hardly handle hearing you beg like that; he feels as though he's going to blow before he even gets his cock inside you.

In his wildest dreams, he never imagined you so needy. You writhe, you're soaked, you make the most heart-stopping little noises deep in your throat when he presses inside. You're so hot and wet and tight that it feels as though you're about to squeeze his cock right off, and he tries so hard to feed it to you slow, to give you time to take him. You're so good, taking him even though you struggle a little. He's not a small man, certainly not an easy man to take inside of you for your very first time, but it's a testament to how slick and eager you are that he slides in with minimal effort.

After that, he loses himself. Hardly even knows what's he's doing, working based on pure instinct, filling and fucking you until he's losing his breath. God, you're beautiful, and he clenches his jaw hard to bite back his orgasm - he has to focus on you, only you while the tears are streaming down your pretty face as you gasp and cry for him.

He can see your orgasm creeping up on you before you recognise it yourself. When it hits you, it's a whole body event. Your back arches, legs spasm, stomach trembles, eyes roll back. Your cunt clenches down so fucking tight that it's a little bit painful. Simon doesn't dare blink - he's never going to fucking forget this. Your very first orgasm, and you're experiencing it on the end of his cock.

He loses it a little after that, his thoughts fizzing and slipping from his grasp as he loses his coordination. By the time he comes inside of you, cock throbbing and skin tightening, he's already decided that he's going to have to make you come again. Once isn't enough, not for someone as hungry as him. Or you.

He thinks he might have fucked you stupid. Your eyelids are fluttering and your lips are parted, but you're a little bit dead to the world. It's cute. He feels his pride swell, smug at the thought that he's fucked you so good that he's sent you reeling off into dreamworld.

He leaves, only for a moment, unable to be away from you for too long. He just wants to get a cloth, something to wipe you off with to make you all clean and fresh again. You're already awake when he comes back, though you're still hazy and clumsy and all teary-eyed.

He's happy to wipe you clean, despite your quiet mewling complaints, and then he hauls himself into your bed just so he can curve his big-ass body around your smaller one, relishing your sweet softness. God, he's wanted to hold you like this forever, but he's still a little nervous about hurting you. Killing and maiming and hurting have been the only things he's been really good at his whole life, and he's irrationally fearful of moving wrong and hurting you, even after the sex. Or maybe especially after the sex.

He can see your brow crease, the uncertainty in your eyes. He realises you're probably a little uncertain about where you stand with him, or what this is. That's fair. Simon has never been the most demonstrative man, but he's also been the type to cling on like a tick to the things he values, the things he wants to keep safe. He holds you, checking his strength, proud to be able to keep you safe in his arms.

He's going to make sure that you don't worry about it either. Your hair smells sweet, your skin is so warm, and your ass is so soft where it's pressed against his crotch. He's reaching for you before he can think about it, and his heart pulses hard when you spread your legs for him so easily. God, he's gonna ruin you. Just like he promised.

HI OMG I LOVE UR WRITING!! Can i have something with Alejandro and a LOTTT nipple/ breast play??? please quench my thirst

Pairing: Alejandro Vargas x fem! Reader

Warnings: mdni, breast play, tiddy sucking, titjob

A/n : god I LOVE tits and I love writing about tits. Show me your tits if you like tits too 😤

Whenever you asked your husband what he loved the most about your body he’d always offer you one of the softest smiles, strong arms enclosing around your way smaller frame in tight embrace. Alejandro then would pressed his lips against your temple, leaving a chaste peck right on your hairline, before murmuring softly:

- Your eyes, cariño.

Bullshit.

Your tits. Your tits have always been the centre of Alejandro’s attention, his eyes gluing to your chest even when it’s enclosed in and hidden by numerous layers of clothing. The sight of your erected nipples never fails to spawn in his mind during nearly every meeting he has with his soldiers on the base, his mind playing a bad joke on Alejandro, recalling how majestically they feel filling his mouth.

It’s easier to name all the times when Alejandro’s hands are not on your tits, calloused fingers squeezing soft pudge of them gently, rough pads of his index fingers barely hovering over your hardened buds in light circles, sending shocks of mild pleasure surging down your body, seeping into cotton of your panties.

Sucking on your tits is literally Alejandro’s favourite hobby. He’s ready to spend the rest of his life with his head tucked under your his shirt, mouth full of your breasts, suckling and nibbling softly, all warm and cozy cuddled up against you. His short stubble prickling soft skin of your upper body, causing you to whine and complain endlessly a few hours afterwards; Alejandro would just coo a soft apology (which is not earnest btw), this only giving him another reason to claw at your chest some more under the guise of applying soothing creme to aching areas.

And the moment you suggested t to give him a titjob? Alejandro is dead already, soul in heaven and dick standing as tall and proud as it could’ve possibly been, leaking precum down thick throbbing shaft. Gurl, he’s nutting the moment he feels the fat of your tits enclosing around his pulsating dick, the only part visible is his brown tip being smothered with absolute softness of your body. That’s probably the first times you’ve ever heard him whine, not groan and hiss like usual, whine like a bitch in heat, so pathetic and greedy for pleasure.

Overall Alejandro is a cheeky bastard, not ashamed of grabbing a handful of your tiddies even in front of friends and family, his bold and playful behaviour just making others chuckle lightheadedly. But even despite his obnoxious obsession with your girls it’s your personality that Vargas loves the most, and only then - your tits<3

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated, feedback is very important for writers! Requests are open, send me stuff🩷

Thank You For Your Service

Yandere!Pervert!Ghost

You thank him for his service and he, tired of hearing it, spouts off "show me your tits if you really wanna say thank you." You blush and he turns his gaze back to his plate only to see you glancing around nervously instead of storming off. When he looks back up, you yank down your top, letting him get a good eyeful before fixing your shirt and practically running out to your car.

He watches you go without a word, the grin on his face more than enough to show how he feels. He takes mental notes on you and your car as you pull away before casually getting up and walking past your table where the slip you signed is still sitting. He memorizes the name on the card you used to pay before sitting back down to finish his breakfast.

That might be the first time he's seen your tits, but he guarantees it won't be the last.

ik this is not a question, but

girl i beg you to write more smut scenes (ON MY KNEES FOR SOAP IM BEGGING OMG)

WE need more.

Also HAPPY NEW YEAR OMG and hope u had a good day!<3

sorry i’m late to this! but thank you and happy new year to you too!

soap x fem reader! maybe ooc

the sounds of dishes clanking in the kitchen became vidient throughout the house as soap walked through the front door.

he slid his shoes off by the entrance along with his jacket, two coffee cups in hand.

he had woke up before you around nine this morning. he had originally wanted to sleep in with you but was used to waking up pretty early during the week.

he always looked forward to waking up next to you, being able to admire you sleeping then kissing your forehead before getting out of bed.

this morning he decided to get you guys a little treat and ran out to get a coffees from the cafe down the street for the both of you.

he made his way towards the kitchen and walked in to you bending over, searching through the lower cabinets looking for a pan to start breakfast. what a nice way to start the morning.

his eyes took in your little pajama shorts that hugged your ass so well with your cute fuzzy socks. he bit his lip eyes scanning you. he set the coffees down on the counter and made his way towards you.

he stopped behind you, slowly placing his hands on your hips while slightly pushing his pelvis against you. he bent down towards your ear and whispered.

“morning’ babe.”

you quietly gasped in surprise as you looked back. “johnny you scared me!” he chuckled. you stood up straight and turned around with his hands still on your waist.

“i brought ya coffee.” he nudged his head towards the counter. your eyes lit up and you moved out of his grip to retrieve the drink.

“aw thanks baby! you’re so sweet.” you said before taking a sip.

once the liquid reached your taste buds, you pulled away and cringed slightly. “a bit too strong but it’s alright.”

he eyed you with a certain look as you cuddled your hands around the drink. you recognized it and gave him a really? look.

“it’s 11 in the morning, how are you horny?” he laughed as he threw his head back then looked back to you.

“i can’t help it, ya look so good when ya first wake up.” he pouted.

you gave him a stern look and attempted to shut him down.

“not now johnny, I still have to make breakfast.” you whined unconvincingly.

he just stared at you, a smile slowly creeping up his face like he knew you were gonna give in.

“stop it! we’re not having sex right now.”

“fuck! johnny!” your voice echoed in the kitchen.

he knew you we’re gonna give in. you always do.

having you bent over the counter, thrusting in and out of you at a inhuman pace. your slick coating your inner thighs and his hands deathly gripping your hips.

morning sex hit different considering this man was whining, head thrown back.

he looked down, watching your ass clap on his pelvis, face red.

his thrusts ranged from hard and slow to fast and short. but boy did they feel good.

the tip of his dick reaching deep inside your pussy. his girth and the curve he had hitting all your sensitive spots, making your eyes roll.

he was ended up getting irritated with his shirt being in the way so he brought the edge of it to this teeth to hold it up. beautiful abs out and glistening with sweat.

you looked back as your hand gripped the counter and watched him thrust while listening to his groans get muffled by his shirt.

being able to get those sounds out of him just had you drooling for this man.

his eyes connected with yours and he leaned foward to hold your hand on the counter.

“fuck baby…ya feel so good, i don’t think i can’t last that long.”

just hearing him say that had your stomach fluttering, ready to orgasm.

he let go of your hand bringing it underneath you to rub your clit in circles, while giving you open mouthed kisses on your neck. feeling his heavy breathing against it.

the sensation on your clit and neck had your breathing picking up. a few more thrusts and you were creaming around him while moaning his name. “oh johnny!”

he was honestly trying his best to keep going but the sweet feeling of you squeezing and pulsing around him had his hips stuttering as his cum started to fill you up. “s-shit!” he stuttered.

he started to slow down and and soon stopped moving altogether. both of you catching your breath.

he slowly pulled out while you hummed in pleasure and ache. your clit feeling almost overstimulated.

he watched your cum ooze out of you and chuckled out of breath.

“got ya extra creamer for that coffee.”

I'm acc clinging on the scraps of valeria content on ur account I need moreee ahhhh. Imma re-request valeria teacher fic bcs i need to tell you how important it is to me 😭🙇‍♀️

Miss Garza Imagines!!

Valeria Garza x fem!reader

Warnings: Teacher x student relationship (obvs), lots of smooches, mentions of eating out, strap-on sex, talk of jealousy and implied age gap.

Rating: Fluffy smut with some angst wedged inbetween but overall her being so sweet and hot

Notes: Im back and better than ever!!! I don't think you all understand the sheer amount of you fuckers asking me for more teacher Valeria. I swear there's like 8 of yall but I'm here to feed your obessesions! i love her sm :((

mwah x

♡ - Miss Garza who never fails to drag you into her classroom before you leave, whispering in your ear in that sultry tone that she adores to use how adorable that new necklace looks on you. That same necklace she bought you thats in the shape of a simple gold heart thats adorned so sweetly between the valley of your chest, the back of it engraved with a simple initial, V.

♡ - Miss Garza who leaves a stamp of her perfectly shaped lips on every assignment you turn in. The kiss mark is always a shade of dark rouge that usually matches the very same one you had smeared over your thighs the night before.

♡ - Miss Garza who persistently insists that you should come to summer school! That summer school being her lavish mansion and the work being the two of you wrapped up in her silk sheets. Accompanied by the sweet sounds of your moans and whimpers as she pushes her strap further and further inside of you.

"Oh don't worry, I know you can take it."

"Such a good girl for me, I told you that you could handle it. Didn't i?"

♡ - Miss Garza who brings you breakfast every morning to assure that her favourite student is full of nutrients for her after-class session with her. She usually bakes her own perfectly sweet pastries for her some how even sweeter girl.

♡ - Miss Garza who always takes you to the most lavish and expensive restaurants. She always tells you that nothing is off of limits and that shocked little expression painted on your face, as you step out of the car, just makes every penny worth it. She always assures that your atleast two towns over. She doesn't want those jealous, scum-bag esque ex-boyfriends finding out and ruining it all for you both.

♡ - Miss Garza who places you perfectly still in her lap as she's marking all those ,in her words, stupid papers. She keeps a hand on your thigh as she's doing so and places chaste kisses on your cheek every now and then. She assures you that she knows that it's boring yet it'll all be worth it when she's finished...

♡ - Miss Garza who rewards you graciously after you present her with an award-winning essay. She never even tells you that you've well, not even a word is uttered. She just beckons you over to her car; the back seat already pushed down and adorned with soft blankets.

She always goes so gentle on nights like those, her soft kisses are paired with even softer words of praise trailing up your thighs. Almost as if she pushed any harder you'd break. She practically pushes you down onto her face if you protest. She couldn't care less about apparently 'suffocating'.

Tags: @crimsonbubble , @warrenkcle , @southernbluebellereader , @simonrileyscockring ,@smmy-winchster @vangoghcoffeeco , @graves-aviators , @sarahs-secrets2 , @fang-kisses , @lilywastaken

The Quiet Ones

Colonel Alejandro Vargas / fem!Reader

Summary:  When Schwalbe‘s assignment in Las Almas draws to a close, Alejandro finally makes a move.

Content:  secret identity, sexual tension, pining, food as a love language, heavy PDA, car sex, grinding, fingering, rough non-penetrative sex

Part: 1 / 2

Word Count:  7.5k (70% pining, 30% pure filth)

Notes:  My dear anon, every day we stray further from salvation and this idea only sped up the process. I loved it. Thank you for requesting this beautiful man. I feel like Alejandro would be the type to spoil his partner all the time, just because he can and loves to see them happy. I've been writing away at this the whole week whenever I had a little free time at night, I hope you like it! 🤍

↳ callsign for the reader is Schwalbe (swallow, like the bird, German)

"Oh my fucking god," she whispered, eyes glued to the tall and handsome man on the other side of the airstrip. 

The Colonel wore dark green today, with a heavy tactical vest and combat boots that were caked all over with mud. His sunglasses perched on top of his head, black hair slicked back a little but the late time of day and humidity had done a marvellous job of bringing back some natural curl. He looked good. More than good. Fine. Hot. Ready to eat. 

And he was coming their way, fast. 

Schwalbe hastily slid on some sunglasses, happy that the blue mask over her mouth and nose would do the trick and conceal most of her undoubtedly blushing face. Alejandro was talking rapidly to Rodolfo over the radio as he approached, Spanish smooth and sexy and dear lord she was so fucked. 

The last time she'd seen the Colonel had been during an emergency evac of the 141 boys and some Los Vaqueros soldiers, with her flying the helicopter. Fun times. Not a situation where one could properly appreciate the sex appeal of a man who seemed to age like fine wine. And was that-

Before she had any opportunity to embarrass herself, Lieutenant Ghost stepped forward and the two men shook hands firmly. There was true familiarity there, the kind that you can only get from being shot at together and coming out the other end more or less in one piece. 

"My favourite fantasma, back to haunt me, eh?"

"More like savin' your ass as usual," Ghost replied drily.

Alejandro laughed, then turned towards her. 

"And who is this, Lieutenant? Am I doomed to never see the faces of my team these days?" 

He ducked down a little to look into her eyes, obscured as they were from the sunglasses. Their faces were very close for a moment, and she could smell the dust and leather on him before her hand closed around his outstretched one. 

Alejandro was grinning and she smiled back behind the mask, then her gaze flickered to the small patch of beard she'd noticed only moments ago. Right there next to the corner of his mouth was a tiny sliver of silvery grey hair, interspersing the otherwise tidily trimmed black beard. 

Now that his lopsided smirk morphed into a confused but polite smile at her silence, the grey was less noticeable.

"Sergeant Major Schwalbe," she said softly, mouth dry.

"Welcome to Las Almas," the dark-haired man said, then released her and straightened back up. Mourning even that innocent contact, Schwalbe followed the two men to the SUV waiting for them. The aircon inside was bliss, and she released a tiny breath of tension as her back hit the soft leather of the backseat and eased her tense muscles.

Las Almas was a big deal, being assigned here repeatedly meant that she was considered to be among the best and most reliable. Schwalbe tried not to let it get to her head, but the spark of pride in her chest helped with the usual anxiety of being thrust into new places.

Lost in thought, she stared out of the tinted window, watching the city move by quickly. Children ran along sidewalks, and an elderly man with an impressive moustache sold divine-smelling street food that had her stomach cramping tightly as they rolled past. 

Schwalbe glanced at the two men in front, who'd been holding quiet conversation the entire time. That in and of itself was highly unusual for Lieutenant Ghost, who most often preferred to observe quietly instead of participate in banter. Perhaps with the exception of Sergeant Soap. He really must be fond of the Colonel-

Dark eyes already watched her in the rearview mirror. Curious and piercing, even as Alejandro continued speaking and driving along like it was nothing. 

Schwalbe felt her face grow hot but knew that there was no way he'd be able to see her stare back behind her gear. Perhaps it was cowardly, but she just couldn't bring herself to take off the sunglasses, especially knowing that she would have to face his intense stare without a barrier of protection if she did. 

And by god, that man was handsome. His eyebrows were drawn together in concentration, full mouth a straight line and she wondered if she would be able to find more of those charming patches of silvery hair if she had the opportunity to look more closely again.

"Tell me, what does Shwalbee mean?" The Colonel asked suddenly, his pronounciating a little off but infinitely sexy. 

"Schwalbe," she corrected him quietly, smiling behind her mask. As if he could sense it, he smiled a little as well. "It's German. A type of bird, swallow in English, if you've heard of it?"

"Known for flyin' low, 'specially when storms come through," Ghost grunted, arms crossed over his wide chest.

The Colonel snapped his fingers a little in recognition. 

"La golondrina! An old friend of mine has them tattooed on his neck, stands for freedom, no?"

"Among other things," Schwalbe huffed in quiet amusement at his enthusiasm.

"Pretty birds," Alejandro said, winked and then turned his eyes back on the road. And though she knew it was just meant as a throwaway comment since he didn't actually know what she looked like and couldn't compliment her on anything, her stupid heart still fluttered like she was fifteen.

The days and weeks that followed were packed full of meetings revolving around the two different missions that the Los Vaqueros and 141 had a shared interest in. Since Schwalbe was technically only there on a loan from SpecGru, she didn't always have the clearance required to attend in-depth consultations with Laswell and Price over video chat. 

That had bothered her the first one or two times it had happened, but then she'd started to see the upside of it: It gave her more free time to roam the foreign base, sleep in longer or go out later. 

Her own training hours were rather tame in comparison to that of the many soldiers permanently stationed here, and she found joy in driving out into the desert to teach promising new talent how to fly small planes and helicopters under severe pressure (and stay alive with the help of hair raising off-the-books manoeuvres).  

And sometimes, when she was especially lucky, the Colonel would be around the same places that she was. 

He was always surrounded by some of his men, serious when the need called for it, but most often joking or laughing. His eyes crinkled up in the most charming of ways whenever that was the case, easing the severity of his expression. 

Just now, long fingers pushed back a mop of thick black hair and, not for the first time, there was a distinct lack of a wedding ring on Alejandro's hand. Sure, that didn't have to mean much, but it made fantasizing about getting bent in half and ruined by him a tiny bit less shameful.

Schwalbe watched him in secret from a few tables down almost every day, pushing around the food on her plate and listened only half-heartedly to the chatter around her. Ghost was content to eat in silence by her side, and never commented whenever she let out another wistful sigh like the supportive friend he'd slowly grown into over the years.

It didn't stop the Lieutenant from throwing her meaningful and heavy stares every once in a while though.

"I can't," she'd told him only yesterday with a firm shake of the head, and the Englishman had only tilted his head in consideration.

Today, the Colonel kept throwing glances their way, eyebrows drawn together in concentration like he was trying to solve an especially hard riddle. Schwalbe stared back, secure behind her tinted glasses. 

The green alarm clock digits shone back at her with grim determination, hardly ever moving forward. 

4:25 AM. 

Damn it all.

She'd been awake for over half an hour, heart racing after a nightmare that had slipped through her fingers like smoke. The faintest memory of screaming and blood lingered, but Schwalbe wasn't sure if that came from memory or her overactive mind.

Sighing deeply, she sat up and dangled her feet over the edge of the bed, careful not to wake the other woman sharing their small dorm room. The floor was nice and cool, and she tiptoed out of the door towards the general direction of the kitchen. 

With the base quiet with no one up and about yet, Schwalbe was determined to follow her cravings and stuff herself with at least three chocolate muffins. 

Patting her stomach, she grinned to herself as she turned into the dark room, moved through the stainless steel appliances and countertops and then opened the glorious object of her desires.

The fridge light bathed her in cold blue hues, and she had to stand on tiptoes to reach the dessert shelf.

"Ah, supongo que teníamos la misma idea."

The raspy voice right behind her almost gave her a heart attack. She bumped into the fridge door and almost sent several glass bottles of milk and juice flying, but both Alejandro and Schwalbe barely managed to hold them upright in time.

"E-excuse me?" She stuttered, face aflame at his proximity and her clumsiness.

The Colonel drew his eyebrows together in a frown, his heavy gaze taking in her entire body slowly. Suddenly, the tiny shorts and tank top didn't feel like proper sleeping attire anymore, and Schwalbe fought against the urge to cross her arms in front of her braless chest.

"Who do you belong to?" He asked, before muttering something under his breath. The only words she could pick out were 'tourist' and 'kill them' and for the first time ever, Schwalbe felt deeply irritated with the older man. Belong to? What the hell?

"I don't know what you're implying," she said, voice quiet as usual but firm. "But I don't appreciate getting snuck up on in the middle of the night. I think I'll go back to my room now, Colonel. Good night."

Alejandro's eyes widened with every word she spoke, roaming over her face to find... What? A lie? Had she smeared chocolate around her mouth?

Just as Schwalbe pushed past him, clutching another muffin because why not, Alejandro's hand shot out and curled around her bicep, halting her in her tracks. She wasn't quite annoyed enough not to bodily react to him, his calloused fingers so firm and warm on her own skin that it made her heart beat faster.

God, who had given him the right to look this good this early? Alejandro's hair was impossibly soft and hung into his eyes a little, grey sweatpants low on his hips. She swallowed.

"El pájaro sabe cantar," he murmured, voice as warm as his hands now and so smooth that Schwalbe wanted to bottle up the sound and keep it forever. "I'm sorry for not recognizing you straight away. And excuse me for making assumptions, but it wouldn't be the first time that one of the guys brought back a beautiful woman for the night."

Beautiful-

"What?" Schwalbe asked, completely flabbergasted. The Colonel released her, now that there didn't seem to be any immediate danger that she'd run, and straightened to his full and considerable height. From this close, she could see the small laughter lines around his eyes, and the blue light from the fridge made the grey patch in his beard gleam. 

Dark eyes drank her in hungrily.

"You must confess," he said, grinning. "I had quite the disadvantage here."

What on Earth was he talking abou-

Schwalbe's eyes widened and then her hand flew up and over her face on instinct, obscuring her nose and mouth as she continued to stare at Alejandro.

He frowned, clearly unhappy with her.

How could she have forgotten? She wasn't wearing a mask. 

Sure, sunglasses would have rendered her blind in the darkness, but Schwalbe never left her quarters without the soft piece of cloth. She'd grown so accustomed to it, that it always took her several days while she was on leave to get used to the feeling of a vulnerable face again.

"It's okay," the Colonel said quietly, brushing one hand through his hair. "I will never mention it to anyone if you are uncomfortable with me knowing."

The tiniest hint of sadness had crept into his voice now, and it made her feel bad. Was it really so terrible that he knew what she looked like now? It's not like he was a complete stranger. Ghost had seen her face multiple times, but never had she felt so... raw. Like an exposed wire about to burn through and ignite everything around it.

Slowly, Schwalbe lowered her hand again and chewed on the inside of her cheek. A habit she'd picked up as a child and never been able to drop. 

Alejandro watched the movement with great interest, and at the first taste of blood in her mouth, Schwalbe abruptly stopped. 

"I don't mind," she squeaked, embarrassed. 

The concentrated, almost greedy look was replaced by a grin. Schwalbe wanted to grab his handsome face with both hands and just... squeeze? Pull him closer until they kissed? Climb him like a tree? All of it felt very tempting, the longer the darkness in his gaze ate her up whole.

"Good, because I don't think I would have been able to forget. Anyway, what are you doing up this early, pequeña ave?" His gaze dropped to the chocolate muffin in her hand, and he frowned deeply. 

Feeling oddly defensive over her choices, she straightened her shoulders and tried not to squirm too much under the interested tilt of his head. 

If she didn't know better, Schwalbe would say that the Colonel was checking her out. Impossible. Right? He was Alejandro Vargas, not some wet-behind-the-ears recruit, eager to have a go in an empty barrack. Right? 

Although, it's not like she wouldn't have thrown herself at him right here on this cold kitchen floor if he'd asked. Did that make her into the newbie with an appetite for superiors or something? What a strange thought.

"I'm indulging in my cravings, Colonel," she said. Some of them, anyway. "And these are actually pretty good."

His eyes had dropped to her mouth for a split second, and she smiled, unsure about the ever-deepening frown.

"That's not food," he growled, dismissing her words with a wave of his hand. "Just some trash from the grocery shop that will leave you addicted to sugar at ungodly hours of the night."

"I couldn't sleep," she said stubbornly, scowling now.

"Because you're addicted to refined sugar."

"What? That's not even true!" Schwalbe laughed, finally putting her muffin on the countertop and crossing her arms over her chest. Goosebumps rose along her arms from the slight chill in the air. 

"Every day, you get the sweetest treat that the lunch lady has on offer, and then you eat Ghost's dessert, too. I believe that's the first sign of a problem right there."

Her eyes widened, and Alejandro made a jerky motion with his body like he'd been about to take a step closer and then aborted mid-movement. 

At her laugh, a grin formed on his face. 

The Colonel looked so different like this, up close and relaxed and not surrounded by anyone else demanding his attention for once. Schwalbe wanted to stay here with him, even if it meant having to defend herself against these totally false claims.

She patted her stomach in mock-offence.

"Are you calling me soft, Colonel? Is this some kind of intervention to keep me from going out of shape?" Her quiet voice was teasing, and she tried so very hard to keep the laughter in.

"No," he said, almost a growl in the back of his throat and fuck, that was hot. Alejandro opened his mouth to say more, dark eyes firmly on her face. Just then, the kitchen door swung open and another Los Vaqueros soldier she'd been training the other day sauntered in sleepily, groping for the light switch.

The sudden glare of the harsh light was like a rude awakening to both of them, and Schwalbe hastily turned her back to the young man, before he had a chance to get a good look at her. 

Only now did she realize how close the Colonel and her had been leaning towards each other, how the warm smell of his skin and sleep had lured her into his orbit. The soldier behind them let out a startled gasp and Alejandro glared at him with so much annoyance and squinted eyes, that the poor lad backed out of the still-open kitchen door. 

A rapid stream of Spanish, Schwalbe only caught apologies, followed.

With a sigh, the Colonel pinched the bridge of his nose, then looked back down at her with a serious expression.

"I will take you to Las Almas for some real food, yeah? You can even have some sweet things, but at least they won't come out of a factory then."

Schwalbe tried to swallow back her nerves and rolled her eyes instead. 

"I hope you know that you will be paying since I'm the one perfectly content with my free snacks at base."

Alejandro threw his head back and laughed loudly, then grinned back down at her.

"You didn't think I'd let you pay, did you, guapa?"

As more time passed between that strange encounter in the kitchen and now, Schwalbe started to question if it had ever actually happened at all. 

The only indication that things were a little... different now, was that the Colonel's eyes would find her form almost as much as hers did with him. He'd stare across the yard, or wave from his SUV when he passed, or watch her pull up her mask discreetly to eat.

She knew that he was absolutely swamped with two missions at once, and that everybody always seemed to want something from him at all times of the day, but it still left her a little crestfallen. Their shared assignment was coming up fast, weeks of preparations slotting into place. 

Soon, she'd most likely be stationed elsewhere, and who knew when she'd have the chance to see him again? The thought put such a damper on her mood, that even her trainees started to notice and Ghost kept throwing her more and more glances each day. 

As she stared more or less subtly at the handsome man three tables down, the Lieutenant nudged his chocolate pudding towards her. Not my favorite kind, he'd told her a while ago. I prefer Caramel Fudge.

A dessert was a dessert to Schwalbe, so she happily ate his. 

"He asked for your unredacted file, you know," Ghost grunted, following her gaze. "A little while ago."

She almost dropped her spoon.

"And you're telling me this now? What did you tell him? Did you give it to him?"

Ghost actually looked offended at that. "Obviously not. I told the daft fucker that if he wanted to see your face he should just ask you."

"He doesn't- that's not why he would want to read my file!" She protested, cheeks flushing hotly behind her mask. 

"The unredacted one," Ghost reminded her, eyes rolling as he threw the Colonel another cool look. "He knew about all your previous assignments 'fore we came here, including the last Las Almas job. Bet that's why he asked for you specifically when Price put together some suggestions."

"He never mentioned it."

Ghost shrugged. "I'm not surprised."

Schwalbe glanced over at the Colonel and was pleased to find him staring as well. 

He looked between her and Ghost unhappily, hand clenched on the table as his boys around him laughed and talked, Rodolfo at his side. 

Feeling stupidly brave, reckless and oddly horny all at once, she pushed her mask up much higher than usual, letting it rest over her nose before shovelling another chocolate pudding spoon into her mouth. Grinning, she shot him a thumbs up, and his eyes widened for a fraction of a second, clearly caught by surprise.

Then he grinned back and mouthed not real food at her, which made her giggle and shrug her shoulders, before digging in again.

The next day, Schwalbe declined her dormmates's offer to hit the town with some of the other soldiers, glad to have the room for herself for a little while. She'd just snuggled back into bed with a romantic book and a glass of cheap red wine when an insistent knock sounded at the door.

Thinking that the other woman must have forgotten something on her way out, Schwalbe just called a quiet come in and turned to the next page.

"Am I disturbing you?" The raspy voice of the Colonel asked, and her head shot around to him so quickly, that it was a miracle she didn't crack her neck. 

They stared at each other for a moment, his dark eyes roaming over her spread out form on the bed, then her room. She hastily sat up and pulled her short sleeping shorts down her thighs a little more, chucking the book onto her comforter.

"N-no, not at all," she said, cursing herself for stuttering as soon as his attention was back on her. Alejandro seemed to fill out the room with his mere presence, dark blue shirt clinging tightly to his chest and arms, black army pants snug around his waist and thighs. 

He looked dangerous and capable and so fucking sexy that Schwalbe wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull him between her legs, propriety and work ethics be damned.

"I wanted to ask if you're still available tonight," the Colonel said, shifting from one foot to the other but smiling faintly. "Don't think I forgot about our little agreement."

"I-" Schwalbe began, tongue-tied. Yeah, alright. She kind of had lost hope that he'd ever mention their kitchen encounter again. "I'm free tonight. Didn't want to go to the bar."

"Me neither," he shrugged, then pushed his hands into his pockets. "I noticed you didn't come for dinner."

She vaguely gestured to her wine and book set-up. "I was too busy."

"Busy," he echoed, eyebrows drawn, then snatched up the book from beside her and looked it over. "It's not in English!" He complained, and Schwalbe sent up several prayers of thanks over that fact. The two vague people embracing on the cover were mortifying enough.

"It's not." She confirmed, lips pressed together. Then she stood, and pushed him down onto her bed with both hands, until Alejandro sank into her soft mattress and blanket, looking up at her with an unreadable expression, still holding her book. 

Schwalbe swallowed and removed her hands from his shoulders, then took an awkward step back, more aware than ever how exposed her face felt and how much bloody skin her outfit revealed. It would be so easy to slide into his lap right then and there, or push herself between his spread-open legs and-

"I'll get changed," she choked out, hastily grabbing a random assortment of clothes from her small cupboard and disappearing into the bathroom without another look at him. 

"What is it about?" Alejandro called after her, and she could just imagine him turning pages, trying to decipher or recognize words.

"Aliens," she shouted back, splashing her face with cold water and brushing her hair, before changing into fresh underwear for good measure. 

"And what do they do here on Earth?"

There was a definite note of amusement in his voice. Braver, now that she didn't have to face him directly as she answered, Schwalbe bit back a grin.

"One of them falls in love with a human and they start a scandalous affair that has all the alien girls jealous."

She closed her jeans and turned, tying her hair up into a messy high ponytail that would never pass military regulations under normal circumstances. As Schwalbe entered her room again, the Colonel was lounging back on her pillow, idly tracing over random post-it notes she'd stuck into the book, with little comments or exclamation marks. 

When he saw her standing there, he abruptly sat back up.

"You look lovely," he said, serious, then stood and walked past her, holding open the door. Caught off-guard by the remark, Schwalbe hesitated for a moment, chewing her cheek as she glanced at the mask on her nightstand. 

Alejandro said nothing as he watched, and with an internal what the hell, why not, she left the blue cloth lying there and joined him in the empty corridor. His long fingers sprawled out over her lower back for just a moment as he gently turned her down to the left, then they walked to his car in silence, thankfully not passing anyone.

Now that she was up and about, there was a definite pang of hunger in her stomach - and if she was being honest with herself, not only for food. The Colonel looked handsome, beard neatly trimmed with the first signs of grey in stark contrast to the black, eyebrows serious and mouth soft. Jesus Christ, and the smell of him. Clean, like he'd showered before picking her up but also spicy and warm, like a mulled wine in front of a fireplace. 

"Where do you plan on taking me?" She asked, voice softer again, now that there was a chance they could be overheard. He shot her a long glance and an easy smile.

"This little street vendor in town makes the best chalupas you'll ever try. He's been selling on the same corner since I was a little boy, and his granddaughter makes fresh churros and honey-roasted almonds."

"I don't think I ever had chalupa before," she admitted, trying to imitate the pronunciation.

Alejandro opened the passenger door for her and watched her climb in before shutting the door behind her. He rounded the SUV, and Schwalbe wiped her sweaty hands down her jeans, heart racing.

He climbed in as well, then the engine purred to life and they were flying down dirt roads towards the city.

"It's kind of like a taco," he explained, buckling himself in with one hand, then checked if she'd done the same. "But better, trust me."

"And not made in a factory," she teased him gently, and he laughed.

"No, guapa," he chuckled. "Definitely not."

They didn't talk much for the rest of the ride, content to watch the dark landscapes fly by as soft music played from the speakers, occasionally disrupted by static. Schwalbe was highly aware of the Colonel, his proximity and dark eyes that flitted over to her every once in a while. 

He parked them down the street in a parking lot with a gate guard and helped her jump out of the car once more when he'd pulled into their assigned spot.

She wanted to protest that she was more than capable of jumping down herself, but then his eyebrows were drawn together in that concentrated frown once more and his calloused hand closed around her own and she couldn't find it in herself to complain. It's kind of gentlemanly, she reasoned with herself, as Alejandro locked the car and put his hand on her lower back again to steer her in the right direction.

Las Almas was a wild mix of colourful street lights, graffiti, and people. And though the city was and had been plagued by conflict for so long, she found the sandstone houses and crowded streets beautiful, peaceful and alive as they were that night. They blended into the crowds going in and out of tiny bars and hole-in-the-wall restaurants, smells and noise all around.

Schwalbe spotted a few men with weapons down a darker alley, and she saw that Alejandro noticed as well. He shook his head and grabbed her hand, pulling her away with tense shoulders.

She felt sorry for him, for the obvious love and care he felt for a place that others viewed as a lost cause. Gently, she placed her much smaller hand onto his forearm, and the Colonel looked down at her with stormy eyes and a set mouth.

"It's a beautiful night," she reminded him quietly, and he rolled his head over his shoulders a few times before smiling.

"It is," he nodded, then pulled her past some kids playing tag and toward a tiny stall on wheels that housed an ancient-looking grill. Schwalbe vaguely recognized the impressively oiled and twirled moustache from somewhere, as the old street vendor turned towards Alejandro and her. 

The divine smell hit her like a ton of bricks and she was too busy trying to translate the small menu on the cart to notice Alejandro's fond gaze. 

"I can order for you if you would like," he told her gently, and when she nodded gratefully, the two men launching into a familiar sort of conversation. After a few seconds, the Colonel turned back towards her. "Are you vegetarian? Do you want some extra spice?"

"No, meat is fine. And spicy as well."

As he continued to order for them and watched the old man prepare their meals like a hawk, Schwalbe looked up at him, still clutching his hand. Alejandro looked softer here, not surrounded by grey walls and soldiers. The street lanterns bathed him in a pretty glow, and she wanted to listen to him talk in Spanish for hours. A younger woman brought over a tiny paper bag that was already soaked in grease, and Schwalbe grinned as she took it from her.

Alejandro shot her a look. "Some of them are for me."

"We'll see," she teased, as the warm scents of sugar and oil and chocolate wafted up towards them. Alejandro laughed, then dropped her hand to pay the old man, waved off the change under exasperated protest and picked up the container of chalupa for them. 

They ate on a bench nearby, watching people as they went past, some of them more or less drunk and others talking loudly and passionately into phones. It was a nice night, with a cool breeze that brought some relief to the hot humidity that had been plaguing the area for a week now. Alejandro bumped his knee into hers after a while, smiling. 

"And?"

"You didn't exaggerate how good this is," she said around a few bites, and he puffed out his chest in pride. 

"I know," he quirked his lips. Then his face fell a little. "Listen, I- I wanted to ask you something. You don't have to answer me if you think it's inappropriate."

"Okay?" Schwalbe said, fishing out her first churro and biting into it with gusto. "Shoot."

Alejandro watched her lick some grease and sugar off her fingers.

"Are you and Ghost... together? Even just... casually, sometimes?"

She almost choked.

"The Lieutenant and me? No!" Schwalbe laughed, genuinely perplexed. Was it not very much obvious who she wanted to ride into the sunset here? "We have known each other for a long time, and he has become someone that I can rely on and vice versa. We're friends."

Alejandro murmured something under his breath that sounded a lot like thank god, then one big hand suddenly closed around the back of her neck and the underside of her ponytail, the other cupping the side of her jaw and cheek. The Colonel leaned in close, ducking a little so their faces were on the same level. His nose brushed along hers and dark eyes burned holes into her soul.

Schwalbe's breath caught and then he whispered her name, her actual name, like a prayer and like a question all wrapped in one, waiting. 

Her head swam from his proximity, his warm breath so close to her mouth and then, recklessly, she decided to just do whatever the hell she felt like doing. 

Even if everything went south, she could just refuse another assignment here and never have to see his handsome face again. But at least for this one night, she could and would have him, if his needy expression was any indication to how he felt. 

She pressed her mouth to his, sugar and spice between them.

Alejandro groaned and pulled her closer by the neck, his thumb stroking the front of her throat. Schwalbe dropped the bag of sweet treats and buried her hands into his thick hair, beard scraping against her chin and cheeks as he kissed her more urgently. It was good and hard and everything that she had hoped kissing Alejandro would be like.

A loud whistle and the cheers of a few drunk ladies stumbling past brought them out of it, Schwalbe's breath just as heavy as his. Her face and neck felt hot where he had touched it, and he watched her from behind lowered eyelashes, eyes urgent.

"Want to go for a drink?" He rasped, and Schwalbe shook her head, jumping to her feet and pulling him up by his hand as well. 

"No, I'd rather be alone with you."

Alejandro's eyes widened for a moment, as he let himself be dragged after her, then he laughed.

"Siempre los callados," he murmured darkly in her ear, though it didn't really seem to be directed at her. His thick arm wound around her waist and he pulled her in closer as they crossed the busy street, music from the bars blaring and people shouting along to it. "Back to base then?"

Tempting. The thought made her give in to the urge to kiss him again and so they stumbled against the brick wall of a convenience store that had drawn their shutters down for the night. She felt drunk off of him, his scent and the taste of his mouth and the way his thumbs curled around her hip bones, then slid into the back pockets of her jeans to squeeze her ass firmly.

Panting, they parted again, and this time it was Alejandro who dragged her back to his car so quickly, that she had to jog to keep up with his long strides, laughing. He nodded towards the guy manning the parking lot, showed his ticket and then pulled her into him as they stumbled along, fumbling for his keys. 

Alejandro opened the passenger door for her again, but she just pushed him into the side of the SUV and pulled his head down until she could suck his lower lip into her mouth. He groaned as he crushed her against himself, the hard muscles of his body flexing under hers as he groped for the door handle of the backseat instead. 

One insistent grab on both of her upper thighs was enough, then Alejandro bent down a little and picked her up. Schwalbe hastily closed her legs around his waist, holding onto his shoulders as he slammed her door shut with his shoulder and somehow managed to turn them. 

Her back hit the soft leather of the backseat, and Alejandro released her long enough for her to crawl backwards and make some room for his much larger frame. They were both breathing heavily, with him still standing at the open door, clutching the frame of the car. 

"Come here," she demanded, and his eyes were little more than black pools of ink underneath his drawn-together eyebrows, as he leaned his forehead onto his arm for a moment, never letting her out of his sight. Then, as he seemed to have taken her in enough for his liking, he crawled into the open space between her legs, turned around only for a moment to slam the door shut behind them, and plunged the interior into darkness. 

He was onto her between one breath and the next, hands sliding underneath her tanktop and massaging both breasts roughly, mouth sucking into the side of her sensitive neck. Alejandro lowered himself between her legs, forcing them open wider with his muscular body. 

Schwalbe moaned softly, hands in his hair as he rubbed himself against her, the pressure between her legs growing.

Fuck, she had fantasized about this moment for weeks, and now that it was actually happening against all odds, she felt like she was having an out-of-body experience.

But Alejandro was much too large for the space, bent in half on top of her, letting out tiny huffs of frustration as she arched back into him desperately, sucking at his lower lip.

Schwalbe pushed him off, and he immediately backed away, breathing harshly and looking worried for a moment, but then she pushed him into a sitting position and climbed into his lap. He groaned as he gripped her waist and ass, pulling her closer and over the hard dick straining against his trousers, grinding them against each other. 

Her breathing came quickly as she ripped off her top, and he fumbled around with the clasp of her bra for only a moment before she was completely exposed to him. Hair wild and tickling her shoulders, she steadied herself on his shoulders for a moment, but then he already latched onto one of her nipples, sliding deeper into the leather seat and pulling her flush against himself. 

Schwalbe squeezed her eyes shut at the sensation, the way his beard scraped along her collarbone and the underside of her boobs as he squeezed them again and sucked harder. 

She said his name softly, and he groaned into her chest, hips jerking up and into her core.

Grinding down into him, she put her cheek on top of his soft hair, letting him take over her body however he wanted. And Alejandro wanted. 

His hands couldn't get enough of her, his mouth sucking bruises into her chest as he dry fucked her through way too many layers of clothing. The stimulation against her clit left her wanting for more, and perhaps impatiently, she started pulling his belt free between them, pushing him back as she worked.

He watched her like a shark, chest heaving as her fingers closed around his hard cock, flushed and drooling with precum already. Alejandro helped her push her jeans down, toying with the lace of her panties as she awkwardly shimmied around, knocking their legs together.

She giggled throughout the whole thing, and he smirked back at her, spread out lazily against the black leather. 

When she was finally able to climb on top of him again, she immediately ground her soaked lace panties against his exposed dick, making him roll his eyes back and hold onto her hips for dear life. 

Schwalbe rolled her hips experimentally, the close contact so much better, the heat between them delicious. His thickness pushed her panties aside eventually, and then it was just soaked skin on skin, his cock dragging through her folds and over her clit and ohmyfuckinggod he was huge. 

"I don't have anything," she whined, desperate as she writhed against him.

"Condoms?" He asked, dazed and when she shook her head no, he thumped his head against the headrest, groaning in frustration. But then he slung his arm across her lower back and pressed her closer, her thighs aching from how far she was being stretched right at her core. 

Alejandro braced his feet on the floor more firmly and then he was rutting up between them with hard, precise thrusts that dragged over her clit and entrance in a way that made her want to forget about safe sex and rules and everything if he could just thrust into her-

He kissed the underside of her jaw, then buried his face into her neck as he pressed himself against her, his free hand gripping the leather behind him to steady himself. The air in the car was hot and smelled like sex and them and Schwalbe's head swam from being stimulated on so many fronts. 

Alejandro whined into her skin softly, and she felt herself gush all over him, beyond caring as she jerked her hips down into his lap as best as she could in his iron grip.

And then his thrusts stopped almost entirely, only one, then a second that were the harshest ones yet, and he spilt between them with a deep groan, sticky semen coating her lower belly and pussy. 

She felt hot all over, tingles shooting up her legs and fingertips as she watched him at the height of his pleasure, hair mussed and undone. 

Her own orgasm wasn't far, she could feel it, but when she gave an impatient twist of her hips Alejandro hissed, overstimulated.

"Hold on," he growled, then sat up straighter so she wasn't pressed down right on top of his dick anymore. His hand snaked down between their mess, middle finger pushing through her and over her slick entrance, easily gliding in.

They both moaned at the way she gripped him, spongy walls greedy. He pumped his finger in and out for a second, watching her face as she clawed her fingers into his shoulders, staring back. Then another finger joined the first, stretching her wider.

Schwalbe could do little more than kneel over him as Alejandro thrust them in a little more harshly, the ball of his palm against her clit until he was as deep as her body would allow. 

He picked up his pace, eyes never leaving her face in the minimal light of the parking lot, tinted windows blocking out the world beyond the two of them. Was there anyone or anything out there that would have mattered as much as this man, anyway? The way he curled his fingers and breathed quickly whenever she whimpered made her want to say no.

A third finger nudged her, and she tensed for a moment. Alejandro was slow and careful with that one, easing it in and out slowly until her pussy was stretched and ready for him. 

His thumb rubbed slow circles over her clit and lower lips, and then his head rolled back with a cocky grin. The hand slid lower until it rested over his thigh, fingers almost entirely removed from her.

"Come on, ride me," he coaxed her in a dark, honeyed voice. His other hand slapped her butt lightly, before grabbing the same cheek and massaging the soft skin there. It made her clench around the tips of his fingers and Alejandro licked his lips, waiting. 

Well, he didn't have to tell her twice. And though her thighs trembled from strain and pressure, Schwalbe was a trained soldier. Once she had set her mind to something, she achieved it. And right now, all she wanted to do was ride the Colonel's finger so well and dirty that he'd start bringing condoms everywhere he went, just in case.

So she did. Flexing her abdomen and thighs she ground down and bounced up so recklessly, that the SUV trembled slightly. She slid her own hands down her stomach, meeting his in the mess between them, before rubbing her clit harshly, fast, like she was just riding one of her toys in the privacy of her home instead of the thick fingers of the man who would put his life into her hands in a couple of days. 

Schwalbe mewled and panted and Alejandro groaned, then leaned forward and sucked her tits again until she shattered around him, leaking all over their fingers and his pants and possibly the expensive leather. Aftershocks wrecked her, but she kept going, uncaring about how loud or wild she must appear until a second, smaller orgasm swept over her like an electric shock.

She collapsed forward and into his chest, and Alejandro gently withdrew his fingers from her, then slung both arms around her shaking body, kissing the side of her head and breathing in the smell of her hair. Her heart raced, thumping in her chest wildly and both their breaths were harsh in the quiet interior of the car. 

"Wanted to do that since the first time I had you sprawled out in my backseat," he growled into her ear, tightening his hold. 

TRANSLATIONS fantasma - ghost Ah, supongo que teníamos la misma idea. - Ah, I guess we had the same idea. El pájaro sabe cantar. - The bird knows how to sing. pequeña ave - little bird guapa - pretty/lovely (used in the beginning stages of a relationship or between friends) Siempre los callados.. - Always the quiet ones.

Want some more? The next part is now online! -> Without Your Mask

I can't believe how much this story grew, but I think this was my favorite piece to write for quite some time now! What do you think? 🖤

My general COD writing masterlist with all my stories including this one, 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 ✨

Orange and rainbow dividers by @cafekitsune 🧡

Could we get some pervy soap or ghost 👀👀

You got me hooked on pervy Konig 🥵

A/N: Your wish has been granted. (≖⌣≖)

Warnings: cocky, playboy MacTavish who is possessive af (he has no shame), nsfw (choking?, ass slapping, exhibitionism, shower sex, masturbation, creampie, rough sex as punishment)

My requests are open for I don’t know how long (as I have a lot of work lately)! ٩(^ᗜ^)و Just please read the disclaimer (pinned post)! Send requests HERE ✉︎

✧°. John was a pretty popular guy in his school years. And he knew he was quite handsome too, so he never really complained about the lack of girl’s attention. Things got a little different when he enrolled in the British military. 

✧°. As he reached his twenties, Johnny wasn’t satisfied with teasing all these other recruits in a hall or a canteen. Especially, because it rarely ended with sex, almost never. He was a busy man with loads of obligations around the base. It could be certainly said that he changed a little and grew out of the playboy phase. 

✧°. For a while at least.

✧°. But the lack of previously mentioned intimacy almost drove him nuts. Perv!Soap was a simple man, he just needed to blow off some steam, you know?

✧°. Then one lucky day, a group of new recruits came into the training grounds and you certainly got his attention. A pretty thing that smiled to him as you walked by Sergeant MacTavish. 

✧°. Johnny felt like his veins were flooding with testosterone again, the mere sight of your curves, made his cock throb. None of the other women soldiers intrigued him so much. it had to be that innocent smile of yours.

✧°. So naturally, Perv!Soap offered you a little tour around the base, while keeping his hand on your lower back. He was just trying to be nice and give you a warm welcome, right? He seemed like a spark of joy!

✧°. He would find himself daydreaming about you, about what position he would put you in or what would he do to pull the sweetest screams out of your tight throat. 

✧°. His imagination was wild – you were just sweeping the dust to the tray while kneeling? John already was imagining you on your knees in front of him, begging for his cock, drool dripping from the corners of your mouth. 

✧°. Perv!Soap would be a bold type of man, whose intentions were crystal clear. He wanted to mark you as his as soon as possible. MacTavish couldn't bear the thought of other men laying their disgusting hands on you. He had to claim you first.

✧°. The perfect opportunity happened, when you came into the gym for a sparring session. Of course your good friend was there to train with you! Johnny invited you into a ring, before giving some advice. 

✧°. Being bigger and stronger than you, Soap made you stumble and fall more times than a fingers hand has. Yet, you kept standing up, willing to continue the sparring session. Perv!Soap enjoyed each minute he had your body within his firm grip, your front or back rubbing against him. It really riled him up.

✧°. So when he had you on the ground, laying atop of him and between his thighs in a tight chokehold, Johnny threw a couple of inappropriate jokes towards his friends who were watching the ring. They laughed and you tried to wiggle away once again.

✧°. “Hope yer gonna keep the spirit, bonnie. I like ‘em feisty.” He whispered into your ear, when your throat was being suffocated with his bicep. You struggled again, letting out a whine and a huff. Such an innocent sound, however it got John’s cock almost hard. You felt it digging into your lower back. 

✧°. Perv!Soap would make clear that you already belong to him. If some unfortunate soul dared to look at you in the wrong way, MacTavish would pin them to the wall and threaten them. Or, in a worse case scenario, he would just punch the wretch’s jaw or nose. Hard. 

✧°. Furthermore, when crossing him in the hallway, Soap wouldn’t bother with decency. If he had a desire to smack your plump ass, he wouldn’t hesitate. John would smile to himself, if he managed to pull a loud gasp out of you, when his strong palm struck your bum.

✧°. Perv!Soap’s confidence would only boost if he ever made you flustered. Which was often. With previously mentioned slaps or dirty words whispered into your ear. 

✧°. “Oh, bonnie. Let me fuck yer pretty tits, eh?”

✧°. “Good lass, learnin’ fast, aren’t we? Got me wonderin’, what else can I teach ya?” 

✧°. When it came to drinking outside the base, after a successful mission let’s say, Soap would rather sooner than later pull you into his lap. His thighs were more comfortable than a cheap chair and this way he could watch over you. 

✧°. Because he was a good friend and didn’t want anybody to throw a pill into your drink, right? Johnny called it a “scary dog privilege” when you sat at his thighs. But to be honest, for him it was a power move. Everyone else from your group acknowledged how protective Soap was over his girl.

✧°. Perv!Soap would sneak into your shower cabin and shush your loud gasp, before anyone could hear. He placed his big palm against your lower jaw and placed a finger over his lips. You were so cute, when you tried to cover your modesty, even now when both of you were completely naked. 

✧°. “Ya gotta help me, bonnie. I’ve got a problem.” John said to you, pointing at his painfully hard cock. Your face turned bright red.

✧°. “Now? Someone might hear us!” You yelled at him, keeping the whispering tone. Slowly your hand that was covering your breasts, loosened up and rested at the side of your body. Fuck it, he already seen enough. 

✧°. “Sh, sh, sh. Don’t ya worry, I’ll be quiet, eh?” 

✧°. Petrified or willingly, you allowed him to guide your smaller hand over his throbbing length. Soap stood close to you, his chest brushing against your perky nipples as the stream of warm water ran down your curves and his toned muscles. 

✧°. Perv!Soap showed you how to stroke him and where to squeeze him. As he predicted you were in fact a fast learner. Quickly you understood how he wanted to receive a handjob and you complied, encouraged by his hand sneaking to the side of your face. The other one was playing with your nipples. 

✧°. Sergeant was breathing heavily, huffing into your face just below his. He was getting closer, faster than ever before. You made him this soft, it was your hand that drove him into sweet like honey delirium. 

✧°. When he came, his cum spurted onto your palm and some landed on your stomach. Soap moaned, holding onto the shower stall on his left. 

✧°. However, the warm and thick liquid was washed away by the trickle of water. 

✧°. “That’s a good girl.” Johnny would be so cute and sweet on you, when you did whatever he asked you to.

✧°. But when you misbehaved or even unwittingly flirted with another soldier, Perv!Soap would be rather rough and tough with you, shoving you into the closest, empty storage in the base.

✧°. Johnny would push your face against the wall, tightly gripping your wrists behind your back. He didn’t care when you scowled and whined at him. Soap kicked your feet further apart, before he started to grind against your ass. 

✧°. “You belong to me, remember? Only I can fuck your tight cunny, lass.” 

✧°. Perv!Soap didn’t care that you mumbled out an apology, he wanted to make a point here – to show you were his little fucktoy. 

✧°. So he pushed his way between your puffy folds without any preparations, John knew you would take him anyways. He wasn’t so sweet and gentle about the intercourse, not at all.

✧°. Soap set a fast and rough pace that made each of his powerful thrust borderline painful. Balancing between the soreness and pleasure. One of his hands kept your wrists restrained, while the other hand grabbed a fist full of your hair, forcing you to arch your back for him.

✧°. Your slightly suppressed moans and whines were music to his ears, only encouraging him to keep thrusting into your tight cunt.

✧°. And just before his actions made you and him orgasm, he pulled out of you and nestled his cock between your puffy folds. Ropes of thick cum covered your pussy and instantly began dripping onto your underwear.

✧°. Perv!Soap would pull your panties back up to their place, clinging tightly against your wet sex. Somehow you were conflicted and couldn’t decide if you were disgusted by the feeling of his semen smearing across your labia or were you aroused. 

✧°. “Go on, now.” Johnny told you, slapping your clothed ass in a gentler manner. 

✧°. “But–”

✧°. “If any bastard would try to sneak their hand into your panties, they’ll know, who this cunny belongs to, yes? I marked it.”

Big Dick Brother Energy

When you join Task Force 141, you fully expect to have to fend off aggressive, testosterone-fueled men who think anything with a cunt should service them just for existing. Instead, you get a team who welcomes you heartily and truly embrace the idea of brothers in arms. They see you as an extension of themselves, one who deserves their protection and care.

This is amazing on the battlefield. Saving each other is only second to completing a mission objective, and sometimes, it comes first. The problem is when you try to socialize with others outside the team and off the battlefield. The One-Four-One are complete and total cockblocks. So overprotective that no man gets a chance to do more than make eyes at you or maybe say "hi" before a giant wall is sliding between you and that man, physically pushing them away if necessary.

When you first joined the team, they excitedly added you to their phone tracking plan. It allowed the team to track each other at any time while at home, just in case. It was very useful when your car broke down and they were able to come to your rescue within minutes instead of waiting hours for a tow. Now, though, it makes it impossible for you to sneak off or to try a different bar or a club.

A club. That was a disaster. You tried to go to a club to dance, figuring that the team would either brood over drinks at a table in a corner or find girls to dance with. No. They followed you like lost puppies, and the second a guy tried to dance with you, formed a ring around you like bodyguards. Opening your eyes and seeing a wall of brothers glaring at everyone around was embarrassing, to say the least.

After that, you sat them down as a group and told them they needed to stop the big brother act, because you desperately needed to burn off some energy. They nodded as though they understood. Then, they scheduled you for extra PT sessions. When you complained about that, they signed you up for yoga classes and water aerobics. You were excited for those, hoping that you'll find a guy looking to hook up. Only, when you walked into yoga, Ghost was there, laying out his mat next to yours, ignoring your glare with a smirk on his face. And water aerobics had Gaz climbing in the pool with you, telling you about his weekend plans and the newest gadget he picked up.

Hell, you even tried to schedule your own class when the rest of the team was busy in the hopes of meeting a man. Leaving your phone at home, you slipped away to a dance studio across town in a taxi. You saw Alejandro walk in at the last minute and shoved your way past him, stomping outside in frustration. He followed and offered a ride back to base with a lopsided grin, calling you mi Hermana, in case you forgot the team's consideration of you as a sister.

You tried to explain again, and they threw their hands up in frustration. They tried to help you burn off energy in a constructive way. No man would be good enough for you, anyway. They were just heading off the heartbreak. When you storm off in frustration, they shrug it off. No way they would let some idiot hurt you, even if you pouted over it.

Eventually, you decide that you'll have to secretly date someone on base. Maybe a friend's with benefits situation. Just as you make that decision, you look up, your eyes locking with a man's across the room. The look he directs your way makes a delicious shiver go down your spine. That'll do, you think with a smile back at him.