Chapter Text
Johnny had always known he was wired for something darker than vanilla- control, pressure, the kind of intimacy that left marks you couldn’t explain away. Knowing it and admitting it, though, were two very different things. Now that the opportunity was sitting right in front of him, he found himself uncharacteristically shy.
Valeria being kinky wasn’t a shock. One look at her told you she didn’t do anything halfway. And it shouldn’t have surprised him that she wanted to experiment with him. She’d been circling him for months; hands lingering too long, a casual slap to his arse when no one was looking, fingers pinching his pec like it was nothing. She never bothered to hide it.
Still, Soap stood there, frozen in his own quarters.
Valeria sat on the edge of his bed, arms crossed, posture relaxed, face carved into that familiar, unreadable calm—as if they were about to discuss logistics, not cross a line neither of them could uncross.
“It’d be nice if you answered,” she said evenly. “We both know you’ve been waiting for this.”
She said it like she was offering him a drink.
Soap cleared his throat. “Alright. Say we do this.” He shifted his weight, jaw tight. “What’s on the table?”
One eyebrow arched. “Interested? Good.” Her eyes flicked over him, slow and deliberate. “We’ll start easy. I know this is new for you.”
Heat rushed to his face. “I’m not-”
“Oh, please.” A faint smirk tugged at her mouth. “I did my homework, Soap.” She leaned forward just enough to make him tense. “We’ll start with stuffing you. See how you take it. After that… we’ll see.”
She enjoyed the way he squirmed, how just the idea had him unraveling.
“Stuffing me?” He scoffed, crossing his arms, offended more than he wanted to admit. “You’re just assuming I’m bottoming, then? I’m fine with kinky, but I ain’t-”
The words died in his throat as she slammed him back against the wall. The impact knocked the air from his lungs. Her hand came up around his throat, not crushing, just enough pressure to make her point.
And just like that, he melted.
His face burned, pulse hammering, cock already stirring in his trousers.
“We both know you’re submissive,” she murmured at his ear. “So stop pretending.”
Her free hand slid to his chest, thumb brushing his nipple before squeezing lightly.
A sharp gasp slipped out before he could stop it. He bit down on his lip, but the sound still betrayed him.
Her smirk widened.
She let her hand drift lower, deftly undoing his belt, his trousers—his pride—until there was nowhere left for him to hide. He groaned softly, hands coming up to grip her shoulders like he needed something solid to stay upright.
“Val- fuck-” His hips twitched as her hand wrapped around him, desperate for friction. “Please.”
“Are you a good boy, pendejo?” she asked quietly, tightening her grip just enough to pull another sound from him.
“Yes,” he breathed, words tumbling out in a rush. “I’ll be good- so good- good for you.”
She pushed his boxers down and let them fall, stroking him with an infuriatingly loose hand. He whined, hips rocking forward.
“Tighter,” he groaned. “Please- need more.”
She obliged—briefly—then slowed again, thumb brushing over the slit at the tip. “Look at you,” she said. “Begging.”
A broken sound tore from him as he bucked again. “Please- I need- I- ”
“Use your words.” Her voice stayed calm, controlled. “Tell me what you need.”
She squeezed again, then resumed stroking, firmer this time. His head tipped back, breath shallow, every nerve lit up. “Fuck- don’t stop. Feels so good.”
She sped up just enough to push him toward the edge- and then stopped.
Completely.
Soap let out a high, frustrated whimper, hips jerking uselessly. “What- no. Don’t. I was- ” He stared at her, stunned. “You can’t just stop.”
Valeria chuckled softly and flicked the head of his cock, earning another sharp complaint. “I can,” she said. “And I will.”
She leaned in, voice low, dangerous. “You’re not coming today. First, we set some rules.”
Her fingers tilted his chin up.
“Understood, Muñeco?”