#Trago Bar | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moviestarmartini · 3 months

Text

carseat backseat. — jude bellingham x reader x brahim díaz.

pairing: jude bellingham x latina!reader x brahim díaz.

summary: your girls' night out soon turned into a party of one. good news though, the two men over at the private booth were looking for the perfect opportunity to approach you. and they're looking to get out of that club fast.

wc: 3.2k

warnings: nsfw (+18 mdni), mentions and consumption of alcohol, basic sentences in spanish (as per usual on this blog tbh), PERREO !!!! , car sex (i'm romanticizing it tbh), soft doms!jude & brahim, marking, praise, light degrading, oral sex (f & m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (twice rip), needy mfs, use of petnames, light manhandling, strangers hooking up tbh. if i missed anything lmk.

A/N: this was wild to write which is why i think it took me so long to finish !!! i mentioned it previously but i lowk picture them in a tuned chevy tahoe and not a limo but that might be irrelevant. reblogs & feedback are always appreciated babes xx enjoy

now playing . . . chulo pt.2 by bad gyal, tokischa & young miko / partition by beyoncé

Betrayed.

You were currently feeling betrayed. Your girlfriends all abandoned you, with cheap excuses or promising hookups that surged throughout the night. You could’ve been on your way to get down and busy too, but you had standards. You sat at the bar, thinking what you should order before a margarita came your way. You curled up a brow at the bartender, who just replied: “The young men by that booth noticed you like tequila.”

You frowned at the plural, taking a short sip of the peculiar-shaped glass before looking around. At a private booth full of couples making out and grinding on each other, you could easily recognize two pairs of eyes looking right back at you. With a confident smile, you raise your glass towards them before taking another sip, thinking that would be the end of it.

You hummed in approval at both the taste of the tequila-based drink and the music the DJ was playing, before feeling a presence standing next to you. It was the shortest of the men who had bought you a drink, with light stubble that covered up his jaw and upper lip area. “¿Qué tal, bonita? ¿Te gustó el trago?” He was dangerously close, but you didn’t find the closeness uncomfortable.

“How did you know I liked tequila?” You laughed, throwing your hair back. Brahim joined in, and he couldn’t ignore the way your face lightened up. His lips parted in amusement, watching your every move. The way you crossed your thighs, and how badly he wanted to pry them open.

“How wouldn’t someone like you have my attention all night?” Brahim’s voice came as something similar to a coo, reaching forward to tuck a strand behind your ear. Suddenly, you felt your whole face heating up. “I’m Brahim, a pleasure.” You introduced yourself in the same fashion, not long after perking up at the song that started playing, its opening letters sparking interest. “Lovely to meet you, ¿Vamos?” He pointed to the packed dance floor with his head, offering you his hand.

Taking down the rest or the drink you hopped off the bar stool, taking his hand gladly and into the dance floor. From your experience with Europeans, they were not the most dexterous dancers, standing still and looking up at the ceiling with their hands on your hips. The man only saved himself by the fact you loved the song and he bought you a drink, the least you owed him was a dance.

But oh you were so wrong.

Brahim gripped his hands on the soft skin of your hips, every once in a while controlling the circular motions you produced, while also grinding back against your ass. It only motivated you further, hearing him curse under his breath. “Joder… qué perreo el tuyo, princesa.” You chuckled a little at his reaction, biting on your bottom lip. The tension only grew when he spun you around, dancing face to face, your nose brushing against his.

Before you could take the dip and cut the distance— his cologne had been clouding your senses, mind fuzzy with the growing sexual tension— he twirled you around yet again, your eyes landing directly on a chest. You tilted your head up to meet the eyes of the man she identified sitting next to Brahim earlier.

“Fancy sharing her, bro?” He addressed Brahim, but his eyes didn’t tear away from yours. “All ours, Jude.” You heard the other reply as he inched closer. The words echoed in your mind, goosebumps forming up your arms. The man you now knew as Jude took both your hands, pulling them upwards and to rest around his neck as he joined the two of you dancing.

The tension between the three of you was something you’ve never felt before, Brahim’s nose brushing against your neck and the way Jude stared you down made your knees weak. But the song came to an end, the DJ transitioning to a whole different genre. But that didn’t stop Jude from closing the distance and kissing you, your eyes falling shut instantly. A gasp left your lips the minute you felt another pair on your neck, leaving slow pecks.

“Why don’t we get out of here?” Jude proposed, his lips still grazing yours. You nodded, and Brahim scooped your hand in his as he practically dragged you away from the dancing bodies, and Jude followed suit with your hands linked together.

The flashing lights drowned the ambiance, and as you thought of the situation and what could be ahead, you smiled to yourself. If patience was the road to wisdom, you sure felt ninety years older. Maybe your friends jumping off the boat was a blessing in disguise— you deduced as you exited the club through the back. You squinted a little, your eyes already used to the strobe lighting of the club.

Click.

Jude stepped in front of you, covering his mouth to speak as a black large car rolled up. “Cover your face for me, baby.” He advised as Brahim opened the door for you, hopping in behind you, Jude looking at the source of the camera with a straight face before sliding inside the car. He gave instructions to the driver, giving him a large bill to… mind his own business apparently, as a partition was rolled up.

“You owe me a kiss,” Brahim complained after not even two seconds of silence, brushing his nose against your cheek. You couldn’t help but giggle as he roughly drew you into his lap, taking your lips hostage in his. While Jude’s affections earlier were soft and careful, Brahim seemed eager; but it still wasn’t his hand grazing the skin of your inner thigh, making your legs part open. Your mini skirt rode up, and you noticed how Brahim pulled it even further to rest at your lower waist. A hum of approval rang through the moving vehicle, and as Jude’s hand inched closer to your core, you shivered.

Brahim groaned at the sudden movement, parting ways with your lips to settle down your neck, Jude taking the same initiative. You moaned softly, jerking your hips. Him, in response, bit into your neck, his fingers delving into the soft skin of your hips. Getting that much attention was overwhelming, and you fell drunk on it. They really worshiped you, lips slowly making their way down, the moans rewarding the men for their good work.

Jude parted first, his finger grazing the soft fabric of your underwear. “We’ve got you so wet,” He cooed, taking your cheeks and turning your head to look at him. He dissected your reaction as his hand just shoved the panties to a side and he took a dip to test your wetness. A light smirk tugged on his face as he watched your lips part in a tiny gasp.

“Turn her a bit towards me, mate.” Jude instructed Brahim, who was busy painting hematomas on your neck. He nodded with the same devilish shine on his eyes, shifting a little so you would both face him. “What do you want, babe? You look a bit bothered,” He freighted innocence, a chuckle rung from behind you.

You became even more embarrassed; how easy your body queues were to them. “Touch me,” You replied with a certain fortitude in your voice, when your eyes were dripping with need. Brahim watched you, lips slightly parted, and just smiled. He gave Jude a nod, who didn’t waste any time in sinking a finger into your wetness. You couldn’t help but throw your head back with a groan, finding rest in Brahim’s shoulder.

Jude didn’t find any pleasure in easing it into you, fixing a steady pace that would have you writhing in no time. You noticed Brahim getting harder under your ass, the movements clearly getting him off. He still didn’t budge, instead hooking a finger on the strap of your blouse and tugging it off the way slowly before kissing the area.

Your moans were breathy, as if you were a fish out of water, your hand reaching back to brush Brahim’s hair out of the way, his light beard tickling the back of your shoulder. You could also feel his hand sliding down your torso, his ring and middle finger soon finding a home at your throbbing clit. You noticed through almost closed eyes that Jude licked his lips and slid another digit in, picking up the pace.

“You like that, princesa? Wanna cum?” Brahim brushed your hair back. You did your best to affirm between babbles, but the built up was rapid and dangerous. “You can do it, you’re so good for us.” Jude confirmed with praise, and you couldn’t have stopped the orgasm even if you wanted to. Your moans filled up the space, legs trembling as they both slowed down and worked you through it.

Jude took his fingers out and started licking them, never breaking eye contact. Instead, he reached out to pull you into a kiss. His hand cupped your jaw with ease, as you sloppily made out. You could taste yourself in his tongue, “What a pretty mess we have here.” He stroked your cheekbone as the car came to a halt. The driver simply left the vehicle and both men checked through the tinted foggy windows their surroundings. They were at the hotel they requested, at the underground parking level that looked as though no one had been there in years.

Perfect.

You came to the same conclusion they did, now pulling Jude back into a kiss, your hands unbuttoning his shirt. But at the same time you reached back and pulled Brahim closer to do the same, with a bit of his help. Jude watched as you cupped his boner through the dress pants, letting a small surprised groan. He’d been so busy pleasuring you he didn’t realize how needy he was himself.

“I want to taste you.” Brahim whispered in your ear, sending goosebumps down your spine. Trying to think of an arrangement, an idea quickly rose to your head before it was occupied with the toned bodies of the shirtless men on either side of you. “You will, I promise,” You gave him a peck before giving your attention back to Jude, kissing down his torso as you got on your knees still on the car seat.

You heard Brahim sigh as you unbuttoned the other’s pants, Jude himself helping you lower his underwear to give his hard cock some space to breathe. You didn’t waste any time, licking the pre-cum that rolled down the tip before wrapping your hand around the girth and stroking it shortly. It didn’t take long for you to slowly slide it inside your mouth, Jude’s hand reaching to rest on the crown of your head with a groan leaving his lips.

Brahim didn’t seem to want to interrupt your work, but as you got into it, you felt the familiar hook of his fingers; this time around the waistband of your panties. He slid them down before a thumb stroked down your wet slit. But the slow-paced affections didn’t last long as he pressed his flat tongue to pick up all the slick and go straight to town on you. You started to struggle keeping your mouth and hand at a good pace, moans muffled with the thick cock stuffed in your mouth.

“Don’t stop,” Jude warned between groans, the grip in your hair tightening. The oral fixation seemed to be pushing him over the edge, in the same situation you found yourself in.

That was, until Brahim stopped.

You couldn’t even find the time to complain, to ask him for more; some shuffling filling the suffocating air before a leaking tip grazed your sloppy slit, all soaked with your arousal. You arched your back, pushing back against the friction. Both men snickered between themselves, Brahim still teasing you with the tip of his hard dick.

“You really want it, don’t you?” He cooed, his teasing actions still going further by pushing himself onto your entrance, but never making it fully inside. Instead of responding, you concentrated on giving your best affections, catching him off guard.

“Bro— fuck, do it.” Jude gave him the approval, clearly taking your enthusiasm into his pleasure as encouragement for the other man to satisfy you. Brahim sighed, lining himself properly with your entrance before burying his length inside you.

The groans that came out of your throat were gutural, full of lust. “You feel so good…” He exclaimed, throwing his head back, still getting used to the feel. He wasn’t the lengthiest, but the sheer girth made up for it. His hands gripped hard on the dough of your hips, tightening as he bounced your body against his in the same fashion you were doing earlier at the club.

You couldn’t help but arch your back even lower, doing your best to continue with your hard labor as Brahim set a relentless pace. You’d come to notice he was the most anxious one, yearning to take you as yours. But it seemed to be rubbing off on the other man, his long fingers gripping your hair with certain force. He thrusted hard enough to rock the car at the movement of his hips, enough to have Jude controlling your mouth, choking on his length.

The scene was straight out of the craziest adult film, but you knew that if you weren’t the one experiencing it, it wouldn’t be as hot. “Cum, baby. Come on.” Brahim encouraged, smacking your ass loudly; you were so fixated on pleasing the other man you didn’t even realize how close you were to your second release of the night. It knocked the air out of your lungs, saliva stuck with a guttural groan as the sensitive tip hit the back of your throat.

“Squeeze my cock like that— mierda, así, yes!” You could make out from riding down the tidal wave your orgasm brought, still stroking Jude’s cock while you took a breather to let out all the scandalous moans, letting the small tears run and ruin your mascara a little.

By the stutter on Brahim’s hips you noticed he was going to finish right then and there, only bouncing your hips back in the same fashion you were doing in no less than half an hour ago at the dance floor.

It took him a moment to recover, heavy breathing overshadowing the sloppy blowjob. He pulled out, looking back to watch the cum dripping out your whole. “Jude,” Brahim looked at him with a heavy breath. “Look at this. Look how perfect our pussy looks pumped of my cum,”

You whined at the sheer force the Spanish national manhandled you to show you off like a prize, and with this new angle you noticed a hint of pride in his voice. Jude’s seeming examination took a moment, even though you could hear the slick noise your leftover saliva made as he stroked his cock.

“I think it’s missing something…” Jude pondered, rising to his knees before pushing himself inside you. With a loud moan of surprise your knees couldn’t hold anymore, collapsing onto your stomach. Your head rested on Brahim’s thick thigh, and he soothed you through the first few instances with praise. Now it was his turn to be the doting one, brushing your hair back and talking you through it. “You’re taking it so well.”

“Suck him off, babe. He’s getting hard for witnessing how much of a good pretty slut you are for us,” Jude ordered, pulling your hips back up to pound into you shamelessly. The command wasn’t a problem, mind so cockdrunk you could do whatever they asked of you.

Jude still helped you up so you could get to the task at hand, but Brahim dipped lower to link his lips with yours tenderly, contrasting the constant sound of skin coming into contact. As you made out, you took the chance to stroke his cock, still soaked with your fluids. He seemed to be melting onto the seat, still sensitive from the previous orgasm. Breaking away and trying to manage your moans as best as you could, your tongue licked up the prominent vein up the underside, before wrapping your lips around the soft tip.

You fluttered your lashes up at him, finding him cute with his parted lips. But it was Jude who picked your hair back and motivated you straight into the action, sounds of pleasure now coming from both men. Brahim writhed under you, while Jude had you squirming.

“Ah, fuck, fuck,” Jude whined, trying to finish on the same pace but being unable to do so. Your walls squeezed him dry deliciously, and he leaned to press his chest against your back to reach around and draw circular motions on your overstimulated clit. “Just one more, okay baby? You can do it,” He encouraged, at the same time you tore yourself away from blowing Brahim to breathe and moan out freely.

“Perfect girl,” Brahim cooed as Jude slowed down, helping you ride down the wave your release represented. Jude pulled out, now standing back to admire his load leaking straight out of you. But now it was his turn to help you onto his lap, holding you close.

“You did so well,” Jude hummed, caressing your cheeks, cleaning the dried mascara. Brahim scooted over, brushing your hair back with his hands and pressing the tiniest, most playful kisses over your bare shoulders. With a gentle hand, Jude turned your head in his direction and locked his lips with your own, slightly swollen and adapting a redder tone. It was tender, calm. Brahim followed, matching the same energy.

It was strange how both men had that duality to them; going from being completely hands on and greedy with your body, to soothing you with the sweetest touches. “We didn’t even make it to the hotel room…” You joked, the two of them joining in the lazy laugh.

“It’s barely one in the morning.” Brahim brushed his nose against your cheek, in the same way he demanded a kiss earlier. You noticed him and Jude shared a look before looking back at you.

“Round two?” They proposed in unison. Still, their voices and expressions didn’t give any hint of obligation, just curiosity. You knew you could reject them and they would understand completely.

And that only captivated you further.

“Round two.” You confirmed with a nod and a wink, getting yourself together to at least spend a minute or so at the hotel lobby. As you all entered and confirmed the booking, it seemed that their infatuation with you only grew; Brahim couldn’t tear himself away from your side while Jude couldn’t stop looking back at you with a certain glimmer in his eyes.

You knew this was bound to be a long night. The biggest comfort though? That you knew you were going to wake up the next morning held securely by two pairs of strong arms.

#jude bellingham #brahim diaz #jude bellingham x latina reader #jude victor willliam bellingham #jude bellingham x y/n #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham imagine #brahim diaz x reader #football smut #football fic #football x reader #football x you #football x y/n #𓈒ㅤׂ 𓇼✽ — writing !

337 notes · View notes

olee · 4 months

Text

Boludo | Enzo Vogrincic

Para mis hispanas/hispanos: en español completito.

Mientras caminas por las calles de Tlaquepaque en Guadalajara, decides acudir a una pizzería llamada La Valentina. Es de noche y llevas puesto un vestido negro hecho a mano, te sientes supercómoda y segura de ti misma. El mesero te pregunta si quieres ir a una mesa o al bar, y le dices que prefieres el bar. Al llegar, te sientas y le pides al bartender un Moscow Mule. Lo tomas tranquila y feliz, entablas una conversación con él, y le cuentas que eres de (tu país) con una gran sonrisa.

A medida que pasa el tiempo, te das cuenta de que el bartender está muy ocupado. Miras a tu alrededor y ves a tres chicos guapos, pero hay uno en particular que llama más tu atención. Te das cuenta de que no son mexicanos; tienen un acento argentino. Sin embargo, el chico que estás mirando tiene un acento muy peculiar.

Sigues disfrutando de tu trago, y el chico se acerca a ti, diciendo: "Disculpa, eh... es que mis amigos me retaron a que te hablara, porque te ves hermosa y, en realidad, no sé cómo hablarte. Ah... ¿te apetece un trago en la terraza y una pizza? Veo que no has ingerido ningún alimento", dice con timidez.

Sonríes y le respondes, repitiendo sus palabras: " 'No has ingerido ningún alimento', suena muy formal, ¿no? Es que cuando estás tomando un trago, la comida va al final, like the end," dices, terminando en inglés.

"Bueno... arrancamos con un traguito, supongo que eso es un Moscow Mule, y al final nos mandamos una pizza," dice con un toque coqueto.

"¡Vale! Nos vamos pa' la terraza y charlamos," le dices, esbozando una sonrisa pícara.

Cuando suben las escaleras hacia la terraza de La Valentina, te quedas asombrada al contemplar el paisaje nocturno, con una iglesia colonial antigua como telón de fondo y las coloridas calles de Tlaquepaque. Las luces de la terraza crean un ambiente relajante y romántico, y a tu lado está el chico, y comienzas a admirarlo. Sus ojos tienen un toque de caramelo, pero debido a la oscuridad de la noche, se ven intensamente cafés puya. Su nariz es prominente, al estilo de Adam Driver, y su piel tiene un tono moreno, como café con un toque de leche. Alto y hermoso. Era simplemente perfecto.

Entonces, él te mira y se presenta diciendo: "Che, creo que debería presentarme. Soy Enzo, de Montevideo. Resulta que acabo de laburar en una película, o mejor dicho, soy actor, y..."

Sin embargo, lo interrumpes diciendo sorprendentemente: "¡Oh! Con razón ese acento. Me preguntaba de dónde eras. Anyway, me llamo (tu nombre) y soy de (tu país), pero llevo casi toda una vida viviendo en los Estados Unidos".

"Y... ¿por qué estás aquí?" él dice intrigado.

"Amo viajar, y la verdad es que no soy tan amante de Estados Unidos, así que decidí recorrer América Latina. Pronto me iré a España, ya que tengo amistades en Madrid. Quizás me quede allí y trabaje como maestra de inglés," respondes.

Enzo te mira con interés y te dice: "Me encanta que hagas eso— viajar y conocer el mundo. De verdad que sos muy afortunada. Ojalá te vea en Madrid, ya que laburo bastante por allá."

"Gracias, y tú, eres muy afortunado. Yo pienso que la actuación es un trabajo de talento y valentía," le decís orgullosamente, dejando un toque de coqueteo en tus palabras.

Mientras Enzo y tú están inmersos en una conversación sobre logros y conociéndose, entran los amigos de Enzo, visiblemente tomados. Un chico guapo y argentino le dice a Enzo: "Che, yo pensé que te habías desaparecido con la boluda," mientras otro chico le pregunta a Enzo: "Pero, ¿quién es esta chica, Enzo? Preséntela." Tú te ríes ante sus comentarios disparatados.

Enzo te mira medio avergonzado y suelta: "(Tu nombre), estos son mis amigos del alma y compatriotas, Matías, Agustín y Simón. Son más locos que una cabra en patines, pero los banco a muerte".

"Un placer," decís tímidamente, mientras Matías suelta con su típico humor: "Che, vos sos muy guapa, Enzo, me la cogiste, pero como amigo te la doy." Agustín te dice: "(Tu nombre), te dejamos a vos y a Enzo tranquilo, nosotros nos vamos para una discoteca. Enzo, me mandás un mensaje para saber que vos estás vivo. Y sí, vente chico’, que nos vamos, ciao." Todos se despiden de manera cómica y se encaminan hacia la discoteca.

Tú miras a Enzo riéndote, y él, medio avergonzado, te dice: "Los quiero, pero a veces se pasan." Tú te ríes aún más y le dices que no te preocupes. Después, Enzo te dice: "Vos tenés una sonrisa hermosa," y luego, como disculpándose, agrega: "Es que es verdad."

Después de la risueña conversación, Enzo te mira y sugiere: "¿Qué te parece si caminamos un poco por la calle? Seguro encontramos algo interesante." Asientes con entusiasmo, y juntos se aventuran por las coloridas calles de Tlaquepaque.

Enzo y tú se encuentran con unos mariachis que entonan “Y…” de Javier Solís. Sin dudarlo, Enzo te toma de la mano y te invita a bailar cómicamente en plena calle, siguiendo el ritmo apasionado de la música mexicana. Ríen y se divierten, creando un momento inolvidable mientras los mariachis continúan su serenata. La noche se llena de risas, música y la magia de ese encuentro espontáneo en las coloridas calles de Tlaquepaque.

Mientras caminan, se cruzan con una parada animada de tacos. Enzo sonríe y te propone: "(Tu nombre), ¿qué te parece si paramos acá y nos mandamos unos tacos? Y, obvio, los acompañamos con una Coronita." La idea te parece re buena, y los dos se acomodan en la parada, compartiendo risas y sabores locales.

Son las dos de la mañana y de repente llegan los tres amigos de Enzo, caminando en zigzag debido a la borrachera, y le gritan a los dos: "¡Enzoooo, boludo! ¿Nos vamos?" Enzo te mira y tú le dices: "No te preocupes, ya tienes mi número." Él te dice: "Me escribís cuando llegues a casa, y nos vemos mañana por un café, ¿vale?" Tú le respondes: "Claro, ¿cómo no?" y le das un beso, a lo cual Enzo responde profundamente. Mientras tanto, los chicos están gritando: "¡Enzoooo, ya cásate, cabrón!" La noche termina con risas, besos y la promesa de un encuentro al día siguiente.

#enzo x reader #enzo vogrincic #society of the snow #la sociedad de la nieve #uruguay #argentina #mexico #latina #fanfic #my writing #enzo vogrincic x reader

255 notes · View notes

caostalgia · 1 year

Text

Tras la pantalla, tu voz resonaba en un último resago de amor, era clara, dulce y sincera, no había una sola pizca de discordia, había paz, eras tú, simplemente tú, que te habías ido como las olas en el mar, como un frío invierno terminando de nevar, como una historieta sin un final, como el amargo trago finalizando una noche de bar. Ahora no te reconozco, no sé quién eres, no sé dónde estás. Solo me queda aferrarme a tu recuerdo en estas notas de voz.

~Goner

#citas #notas #frases #goner #caostalgia #unanochesinluna #poetanocturno #recuerdo repugnante #no volveras

305 notes · View notes

pricesugarwife · 4 months

Text

Derritiendo los glaciares de su corazón | Simon Riley x Reader

¡Mi segundo escrito aquí! Estoy intentando descubrir como funciona la plataforma, sigo estando nerviosa y pronto tendré que hacer una publicación fijada con mis pequeños retazos.

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Please, listen "Say yes to Heaven" of Lana del Rey mientras lee esto para una mejor experiencia.

Los créditos se mostraban en la pantalla mientras quitabas la manta acolchada que te cubría, hacía unos minutos que la película había finalizado y como un gato perezoso, te estiraste en la cómoda cama en la que reposaba tu cuerpo, aun tratando de espabilar después del dulce sueño y las caricias compartidas por el hombre rubio del que no había rastro en la habitación.. Hacía frío, no era para menos el invierno los había arropado con una espesa capa de nieve y escarcha visible desde la ventana, donde se vislumbra el paisaje blanquecino pero ciertamente inspirador para una artista como tú.

Aunque, nunca fuiste buena pintando o esculpiendo en arcilla, tus dedos se hallaban demasiado ocupados trazando formas en el cristal de este, tarareando de manera vaga la melodía de fondo, disfrutando de la brisa congelada que refresca tus mejillas sonrojadas; porque los recuerdos de la noche anterior transitaban por tu conciencia, los besos apasionados, las mordidas traviesas, palabras sugerentes y el delicioso vaivén de caderas que impuso Simon cuando descubrió los espacios más íntimos de tu cuerpo, trazando cual cartógrafo la geografía en antiguos pergaminos, proclamándose noble conquistador de las tierras vírgenes entre tus piernas.

Cada suspiro robado en la boca de Simon se repetía en bucle en tu imaginación, dejándote embriagar por el terroso aroma a almizcle, avellanas y madera, había algo en la entereza de su ser que te hacía sentir en casa. Quizás tanto tiempo en soledad, viviendo en la monotonía de los días con las mismas palabras vacías y la rutina hueca te había hecho sentir extranjera en tu propio cuerpo, en tu propia vida, hasta que conociste al hombre de ojos cafés tormentosos.

Era una ocasión especial, llevabas un vestido fluido por insistencia de tu madre que te había convencido de salir al último festival organizado en la ciudad y lucir bonita para “pescar un buen hombre, porque el tiempo pasaba y no te hacías más joven”, sin embargo, la amargura en tu paladar al pensar en el amor y tus anteriores experiencias (aunque escasas, muy decepcionantes y terribles) se vieron empañadas en cuanto observaste a semejante semental que se encontraba sentado en un rincón oscuro del bar en el que estabas con tu hermana.

Ella, como era de costumbre, no se callaba y continuaba parloteando sobre el militar con el que estaba saliendo desde hacía semanas. Pero espabilaste en cuanto saliste de la ensoñación, dándote cuenta que su parloteo se había detenido hacía segundos y se levantaba repentinamente de la silla, corriendo como el huracán que era hacia la figura voluminosa de un hombre que llamó “John” con un tono tan enfermizamente dulce que en otro momento te hubiese provocado arcadas.

Al final conociste al misterioso hombre del que estaba enamorada tu hermana y también conociste a Simon Riley, a pesar de que al inicio se presentó con su indicativo “Ghost” con un tono seco y plano, anticipándote que no participaría mucho en la conversación. Sin embargo, al final de la noche lograste estar más cerca de ese cautivador espécimen que solía hacer bromas de papá, bebía cortos tragos de bourbon y te robaba el corazón con cada palabra que salía decorada por ese acento de Manchester.

Regresando al presente, te sentías flotando en una danza encantadora y delicada como las de antaño, donde el caballero sujetaba a una distancia prudencial tu anatomía al compás de la orquesta que entonaba el ritmo de la pieza. Como un violinista que conoce las cuerdas de su instrumento, el rubio había aprendido a tocar en los sitios indicados para conseguir ese dulce sonido de tus labios pintados de bermellón.

Aquel suceso permanece escrito en las páginas de tu memoria, garabateando corazones junto a sus nombres y anhelando esas varoniles manos sobre ti una vez más, generando una adicción a sus incandescentes sentimientos desmedidos, desprovistos de cualquier enajenación. Giraste sobre tus pies, dando vueltas como una ninfa de rostro soñador, la delgada camisa blanca de Simon cubría tu desnudez sin inmutarse por la baja temperatura hasta que percibiste esa fragancia casi afrodisíaca.

—Pensé que no querrías salir de la cama —murmuró el de orbes azules, sonaba divertido y maravillado por tu delicado semblante, aún cuando había pervertido tu mente con su excitación desenfrenada y te había devastado en su cama hacía unas cuantas horas.

—Está nevando y es precioso, quería ver la nieve caer —señalaste, sentándote sobre tus tobillos en el esponjoso colchón invitándole a que se acercara hacia donde estabas.

—Quizás, sigue sin ser más precioso que tú.

Antes de que pudieras contestar, te sujetó por la cintura y te subió a su regazo, reposando tu cuerpo en sus gruesos muslos, acariciando tramos de piel que iba revelando al subir la poca tela que lo separaba de tu cálido centro.

—Anhelo llenarte de los halagos que mereces... quiero devolverte esa alegría que provocas en mí —confesó, peinando los mechones sueltos que enmarcan tu rostro. Los mismos dedos que te habían llevado a las estrellas delineaban con delicadeza tus mejillas, hasta que el dedo pulgar reposó encima de tus labios, fascinado admirando la forma de tu arco de cupido.

—Creo que alguien ha estado leyendo a Jane Austen —dijiste más para ti misma, sin percatarse que Simon empezaba a desabrochar los pocos botones que cubrían tu modestia.

Nunca desvió sus profundos ojos marrones de tus reacciones, motivado por como mordiste tu labio inferior al observar los músculos cincelados y esos pectorales esculpidos por Miguel Ángel. Lo hacía con el objetivo de empujar tu deleite en ese armonioso espectáculo íntimo, develando la parte más sensual que poseía como individuo masculino.

En cuanto te apoyó en la cama, posicionándose sobre ti, apreciaste en silencio como iba enseñándote el sendero feliz cubierto por una delgada capa de vello y jadeaste en silencio, sintiendo el agradable calor de tu humedad cuando Simon se quitó el jogger gris que llevaba y sus torneadas piernas tocaron el colchón para subir hacia donde tus brazos lo llamaban. En cuanto estuvo más cerca, sentiste la dureza de su miembro contra la parte interna de tus muslos, mordiéndote el labio y moviendo las caderas para que pudiera sentir lo lista que estabas para recibirle.

Simon hizo descender sus dedos hacia tu centro resbaladizo, cubriendo sus dedos con la humedad acumulada en medio de tus muslos y llevándolos a su boca para probarlo mientras te miraba atentamente, provocando un gemido desesperado de tu parte. Para ese instante, el frío no era un inconveniente, puesto que apretaste los muslos al sentir como esa humedad crecía y descendía cálida, acción que no pasó desapercibida—. ¿Exaltada, mi dulce princesa?

—¿Qué crees? —dijiste, recostando tu fisionomía en la suavidad de las sábanas de tu amante. Querías repetir esa pecaminosa danza que se prolongó en la madrugada.

—¿No fue suficiente con lo de anoche? —cuestionó, una de sus cejas gruesas arqueadas y sus labios tirando de una sonrisa que prometía los placeres carnales.

Pero no te cohibiste como antes, la sumisión que habías mantenido se dispersó cuando lo besaste con todo el fuego que residía en tu pecho, presionando tus senos desnudos contra su pecho torneado y duro. Porque más allá de un derroche pasional y efímero, sus almas se conectaban en un plano espiritual que escribía con pluma dorada la leyenda de un amor inconmensurable, que por fin sería netamente feliz y perpetuo.

—Quiero que me hagas tuya, Simon.

#call of duty #cod fanfic #fanfiction #cod #writers on tumblr #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader

54 notes · View notes