hnghhgngh in that case would you do a fem version of the one Flaco fic where he cums inside the reader a whole lot hnghgnggh
it’s 6:30 in the morning and here i am, finally using this as an excuse to write some young!Flaco. i also adore the idea of Flaco being such a loose cannon and smug bastard in his younger days so gotta include that shit. also i have the hots for that bottle shooting mexican stranger u can find so mmmmmmmm <3
here u go :)
"It happened again!" Flaco snapped as he stormed into your cabin, the sound of his voice and your door slamming open making you jump. You should probably start locking your door during the day since Flacos big entrances are a common occurrence, always making you jump out of your skin.
"What happened?" you ask as you look up from your desk.
He's sulking, stood in front of you with his arms crossed. "That damn cabrón and his stupid bottles," Flaco grumbles as he pulls out one of the desk chairs, sitting next to you. "He beat me, again!"
Ugh, not this again. This isn't the first time Flaco's thrown a temper tantrum about being beat by this stranger that he keeps bumping into. Flaco's very eager to become the best gunslinger there's ever been. He's already famous, more so after that cigarette card company approached him, asking for his portrait for their famous gunslinger collection. The day he strolled into your cabin holding that card is a day you'll never forget; you'd never seen a man look so smug and proud, holding the little portrait of himself in front of your face. He spent hours staring at it, smiling at himself, making you shake your head.
"You'll get there," you sigh. It's hard to comfort a man when all he wants to do is scream at his own reflection. When Flaco's in one of these moods, you just let him burn himself out then comfort him afterward. Simply stroke his hair as he cuddles up to you and tell him over and over how impressive he is with his guns. That'll soothe him.
"It's stressing me out, chica," Flaco tells you.
"I can tell," you sarcastically reply.
"I need to burn off some steam. Will you help me?" Flaco asks you, his eyes meeting yours after he rubs his face, probably trying to rub the stress from his eyes, his hands brushing over his short stubble and round jawline.
"I'll do whatever you need, Flaco," you tell him. You were expecting him to take you hunting or help him practice his shooting, but it's a pleasant surprise when Flaco picks you up off your chair and carries you over to your bed, quickly chucking his jacket and hat to the floor before he begins his way with you.
And now you're here, face down on your bed, a pile of pillows underneath your hips that are thankfully more than enough to cushion you, preventing your hips from bruising even more as they're not slamming into the mattress. Flaco snaps his hips down into you again, grumbling behind you, holding his length deep inside of you as he pumps out another load.
You've been like this for what feels like hours, Flaco letting all his 'stress' out on you. You don't even think he's stressed anymore at this point, just over-stimulated and milking himself for all he's worth. You're not complaining though, loving the attention and Flaco's natural dominant aura. You haven't come as much as Flaco has, and you question how this man is still going after his fourth load? maybe fifth? who knows.
"You got room for one more?" Flaco grumbles from behind you, leaning down so he can speak against your ear, his large frame towering over you, the hairs on his chest brushing against your back.
"Mhmm, yes," you moan, knowing you have another orgasm on edge.
"Good, good. You're so good for me, chica. So obedient, such a buena niña," Flaco says as his hips begin moving again. "The way you're letting me use you like this is just... I have no words for it," Flaco sighs. "I might wife you, you know. No way am I ever going to find another woman who's so kind and tender, but loves being fucked like the puta she is," he chuckles.
You'd slept with Flaco the first night you met him. He'd seen you in the saloon and just had to have you. This was over a year ago, his personality being even more of a loose cannon than he is now. He strode over and fawned over you all night, though you never felt creeped out by his smothering. Maybe it was that gorgeous glisten in his eyes, or his over-powering height, or those fluffy chaps he wore. There was something about him that drew you to him, and ever since then Flaco's found himself waltzing into your cabin every few weeks, spending a few days with you every time.
Another snap of his hips draws you out from your reminiscence, bringing you back to the reality that you're currently in: being used as a cum dumpster for 'stress relief' by your sweetheart.
"You're quiet for once, amor," Flaco tells you, his voice lower and husker than usual. You adore him even more when he sounds like this, making your body tremble and your pussy ache.
"I'm just enjoying the ride," you reply, looking up over your shoulder to see Flaco smirking at you.
"You enjoying this? Having Flaco pump load after load into you?" he asks. You lift your body up slightly so Flaco can lean down and kiss along your neck, leaving another hickey next to the one from last week.
"Is it wrong if I do?" you ask, enjoying the way his stubble tickles your skin, not being scratchy for once.
"Not at all, amor. I love it as much as you do," Flaco tells you, lips still against your skin.
"I might have to stress you out myself if it means you'll fuck me like this."
Flaco lets out a chuckle. He snaps his hips against yours, pushing a yelp from your lips. Flaco then moves one of his hands off your hips, placing it firmly between your shoulder blades and pushing you back down into the mattress, your ass still raised in the air for him to enjoy.
Flaco fucks you with quick, deep thrusts, accidentally pushing his former loads out of you, his cum dripping from your hole, down over your clit, and onto your pillow. You'd normally kick up a fuss every time Flaco ruins your bedding, but you're not fussed right now as coincidentally, it was laundry day. You're definitely going to throw yourself into the wash after this, you'll need it.
The way Flaco rolls his hips is so perfect, brushing against your g-spot, pushing moan after moan from your lips. He adores the noises you make, letting out his own mix of a grunt and a moan, often through gritted teeth when he's fucking you as ferally as he is now.
"Mierda!" Flaco almost shouts as he continues to pound you. Yes, your pussy aches but you'll deal with that later. There's no way you're going to ask Flaco to stop for anything, even if the cabin was on fire.
You shift your weight, trying to slide your hand down your body but Flaco slaps your hand away. "Here, let me," he tells you, moving one hand from your hips to reach underneath you and firmly press on your clit, rubbing it just how you like it, making your thigh muscles tremble as you moan his name.
"That's right! Come on, chica. I love that feeling of you clenching around me. You'll do it once more for me, won't you?" Flaco asks. How could you deny him?
"Flaco, I'm close," you sigh, eyes shutting as the pressure builds up inside of you. "Fuck!" you yelp as your orgasm hits you, your body spasming as your walls tighten around Flacos' thick length.
He lets out a long moan, pushing his cock as far as it'll go, spilling one last load inside of you. Flaco seems worn out this time, leaning his body over yours, his sweaty forehead pressed between your shoulder blades as he lets out a string of deep breaths. You can still feel his cock throbbing inside of you, pushing out whatever was left.
Eventually, Flaco comes down from his high and lifts his head up, placing a kiss on your back before he sits upright, pulling his length from you and rolling onto the bed. He's finally exhausted, his eyes shut as his chest rises and falls, trying to calm his racing heart down.
You pull the cover off your pillow, using that to wipe yourself down before chucking it to the floor to be dealt with later. Flaco already has his arm out waiting for you, so you snuggle up to him, practically lying on his chest. Your body begins to feel exhausted, and Flaco already looks like he's passed out from exhaustion. Surprisingly, he hasn't, as he places a kiss to your forehead.
"I don't think I'm stressed anymore, chica," he tells you, making you laugh.
"At least we know how to relieve you now," you add.
"Mhmm. I'll try not to get stressed too often. Don't want to wear you out too much," he tells you, placing another kiss to your forehead.
"How considerate of you," you joke.
"Only for you, amor."
The two of you are quick to fall asleep on each other, exhausted after todays session. At least you both now know how to calm Flaco down in the future.
