Guys I’m shy I wrote a jealous reader x Brian story but idk if I should make it smut or fade to black like… the demon in me is wanting smut but the tension is perfect rn YALL HELP. should I go freaky
Dual POV • Reader + Brian
#suggestive smut, voyeurism, mutual pining, wc ~3k
This is written in English... Spanish here (soon)
Thin Walls, Voyeurism, Eavesdropping, Mutual Attraction, Jealous Reader, Flirty Brian, Praise, Lap Sitting, Brian Has a Date, Reader Listens Through the Wall, Brian Knows She Might Be Listening, Sexual Tension, Fantasizing About Each Other, Emotional Intimacy, Brian Being a Menace
Brian bringing a date home should not bother you nearly as much as it does. Unfortunately, the walls between your bedrooms are thin, curiosity wins, and what begins as accidental eavesdropping becomes something far more intimate when you realize Brian knows exactly how much you can hear.
*Your Perspective*
I knew the walls were thin now, and ever since Brian had admitted how much he could hear from my apartment, my bedroom had stopped feeling entirely private. The television seemed louder than it used to. Drawers sounded harsher when they closed. Even shifting around beneath the blankets at night had become something I noticed, because his bedroom sat directly on the other side of mine and the apartments were almost perfectly mirrored. My bed was pushed against the dividing wall, headboard flush with the drywall. His was arranged the same way. If we were both lying down at once, there could only be a few feet between us.
I had gotten very good at not following that thought anywhere useful. Tonight, it was impossible.
I was almost at my apartment when the elevator opened behind me, and Brian’s laugh reached me before I looked. I recognized it immediately now, which felt like information my body had collected without asking permission.
I turned, saw him step into the hallway with a woman beside him.
She was beautiful, which would have been easier to deal with if she weren’t. She looked relaxed beside him, dressed for an actual night out, one hand resting lightly against his arm while she finished whatever she had been saying inside the elevator. Brian was still smiling at her when the doors opened.
Then his eyes found me.
“Hey, neighbor.”
“…Hey.”
I turned back to my door and pushed my key toward the lock. I missed. Ugh. Heat climbed into my face before I could stop it.
The woman kept talking behind me. Brian answered her, but something about his voice sounded distracted now, and I became painfully aware that he was still close enough to watch me fail at opening the same door I used every day.
The key finally slid into place. I should have disappeared inside… instead, I glanced back.
“Have a good night.”
Brian had reached his apartment. His hand rested on the handle while his date waited beside him.
“You too.”
His eyes stayed on mine for a second longer than necessary. There was no real smile on his face, only the beginning of one, like he had noticed something and was still deciding how much he wanted to enjoy it.
I narrowed my eyes slightly. His mouth twitched. Then he opened his door and stepped aside so she could enter first.
I went inside mine and closed the door. There was no reason to care. Brian was single. I was single. Whatever had been building between us consisted mostly of charged conversations, looks I spent too much time replaying afterward, and the deeply unfortunate discovery that he had heard things through my bedroom wall I would have preferred to take to my grave.
None of that gave me any claim over him. I repeated that while changing clothes. Then again when I climbed into bed.
The television sat directly across the room, throwing pale light over everything, and I put on something familiar enough that I wouldn’t have to concentrate very hard.
For several minutes, I managed.
Then I heard her laugh.
My eyes stayed on the television. A few seconds later, Brian said something I couldn’t understand. His voice came through differently than hers, lower and softer around the edges, recognizable even without the words.
I raised the television volume… Thirty seconds later, I lowered it again.
The voices moved deeper into his apartment, and I knew when they reached his bedroom. That recognition annoyed me more than anything else.
Sound traveled differently from there. Closer. It was more contained. Familiar… because I had already learned what Brian sounded like when he was directly on the other side of this wall.
I shifted higher against my pillows. He was talking about the apartment now. I caught fragments at first. Furniture. Decorating. Something he still hadn’t gotten around to.
Then his voice came through clearly.
“I still need something behind the bed.”
My eyes moved toward the wall beside me. The woman answered, too muffled for me to understand.
“Maybe a painting. Something big enough to fill most of it. I know an artist. They live close by.”
What?
I lowered the television another notch. There was nothing unusual about that...He was decorating. People hung paintings behind beds every day without emotionally destabilizing their neighbors… who’s the artist?
His voice moved farther away for a moment, then returned so close that my hand lifted before I thought about what I was doing.
I put my palm against the drywall.
“Right here.”
A soft thump landed beneath my hand.
My fingers spread slightly.
He had touched the wall.
The realization sent a small rush through me that felt much too intimate for something separated by plaster and insulation. His voice was close enough that if I closed my eyes, I could almost imagine it beside my ear.
The woman said something about hanging it and Brian laughed softly.
“I’ll do it during the day. Don’t want to be hammering into the wall at night and bothering the neighbor.”
I stared at the drywall. His date laughed.
“That considerate?”
“Trying to be.”
There was a pause. Then, much too casually:
“She makes enough noise for both of us.”
My hand left the wall. My entire face went hot.
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
The woman laughed again, completely unaware that Brian had just aimed an entire conversation through the wall at me. I stared at it in disbelief.
He knew there was a chance I could hear him. That was enough. He knew exactly what these walls carried. He knew what he had already heard from me and, more importantly, knew how mortified I had been when I realized it.
His voice came through again.
“I should probably pick something sturdy.”
I covered my mouth.
“Asshole.”
I whispered it, which was ridiculous considering he had spent the last several minutes making sure I could hear him. Less than a minute later, my hand was back against the wall.
By then I had stopped pretending I only wanted to hear what he was saying. There was something about the proximity of his voice that kept pulling me toward it. I could feel the faintest vibration beneath my palm when he spoke, and my body accepted that small illusion of closeness far too easily.
The conversation drifted again. Sometimes I caught a sentence, sometimes only the rise and fall of their voices. His date laughed often. Every time she did, the television became less relevant.
Then something scraped against the floor next door.
I looked toward the wall.
Furniture.
Another softer movement followed… I had never spent enough time inside Brian’s bedroom to know exactly what he kept in there. I had seen pieces through open doors, glimpses at most, nothing I had ever intentionally catalogued.
My imagination supplied possibilities anyway. A chair, maybe. Something beside the bed.
I sat up.
Another sound came through, lower now. A laugh that didn’t carry as far. I swung my legs over the edge of the mattress. I could have stayed there. Instead, I stood. The television continued playing behind me while I crossed the tiny distance to the wall. This time I didn’t bother pretending I had another reason.
I pressed my ear against it. Embarrassment hit immediately. I stayed there.
Brian’s voice came through too quietly for me to make out. The woman answered in the same low register, and whatever conversation they had been having seemed to disappear into something more private.
Then the furniture shifted again. I closed my eyes.
*Brian’s Perspective*
I hadn’t brought her home because of my neighbor. That would have been insane.
The date had actually been good. She was funny, easy to talk to, pretty in a way I’d noticed immediately when we met. I had every reason to want the night to continue.
Then the elevator opened. And there she was. My neighbor.
The pause on her face lasted maybe half a second when she saw the woman beside me, but I caught it. I caught the way she looked between us and then turned back toward her door a little too quickly.
Then she missed the lock. She was cute.
I kept talking to my date because laughing would have been cruel, but the image stayed with me even after both apartment doors closed. There was something about her jealousy that sat far too comfortably in my head.
Maybe because I had spent weeks trying to figure out whether whatever existed between us was real or whether I was reading too much into every look she gave me. Maybe because she had become so easy to tease, and every time I pushed a little she gave me another reaction… Or maybe because I liked the idea that seeing me with someone else bothered her. I didn’t particularly love what that said about me.
With my date, the decorating conversation happened naturally. I really did need something behind the bed. The wall was blank and had been annoying me since I moved in. The comment about the noise did not happen naturally.
That one was entirely for her, my girl next door. I looked at the shared wall when I said it.
One of them can be loud.
I had no idea whether she was listening. Still, I imagined her face. That was enough for me.
“You’re doing it again.”
I looked back at my date.
“Doing what?”
“Spacing out.”
She said it with a smile, not offended yet.
“Sorry.”
“Where’d you go?”
“Nowhere.”
Her eyebrows lifted for a second, then she smiled. I’m glad she moved on.
We kept talking, and I forced myself to stay where I actually was instead of wondering what was happening one apartment over.
I sat down in the upholstered chair beside the bed, and she remained standing between my knees while we talked. She was flirtier now than she had been at dinner, comfortable enough to touch my shoulder when she laughed and let her hand stay there afterward.
“You always this distracted on dates?”
“Only the good ones.”
She smiled.
“That was smooth.”
“I thought so.”
She shook her head and stepped closer. I let my hands settle lightly at her waist. For the first time since coming upstairs, the wall disappeared from my attention… She climbed onto my lap.The chair shifted beneath us… I remembered exactly where we were.
*Your Perspective*
The next movement against the wall was clearer.
I had no idea what it was.
My mind tried to build the room from sound alone. Furniture shifting under additional weight. A quiet breath. Brian murmuring something I couldn’t catch. The woman’s laugh, softer now and cut short at the end.
I pressed my ear harder against the wall… maybe they were on his bed? The thought arrived immediately because I knew exactly where the bed should be. Directly opposite mine.
My stomach tightened. Another subtle scrape came through. Smaller than I expected from a mattress.
A chair, maybe. I didn’t know.
The uncertainty gave my imagination permission to become completely unreasonable. I pictured Brian sitting back somewhere, the woman between his knees. I pictured his hands at her waist. The expression on his face when he knew he had somebody’s full attention.
I had seen that expression directed at me enough times to know exactly what my brain would do with it. A soft sound came through the wall. A moan?
I froze.
It wasn’t loud. It could have been a laugh, a breath, something spoken too quietly to understand. My body reacted before my pride did.
Heat gathered low in my stomach. I closed my eyes. My hand sliding down my shirt, dangerously close to the elastic on my underwear.
I had thought about Brian before. Obviously. That was part of the humiliating information he already possessed thanks to these walls. But hearing him like this was different. This wasn’t imagination anymore.
His voice was real. The quiet sounds from the other room were real. There was a woman with him, and for reasons I didn’t want to examine too closely, my mind kept replacing her.
What would he sound like with me? Would he still tease me when there was nobody else around? Would he laugh when I got shy? Would he say something just to see how badly it affected me?
The furniture moved again.
My hand came up beside my face, pressing into the wall as though I could get closer through force alone.
Then I heard Brian’s voice. The words were still muffled, but one phrase came through clearly enough to understand.
“… Good girl. Just like that.”
Low. Intimate. My hand moved farther between my thighs.
It was exactly the kind of thing I had imagined hearing from him in moments I had never expected to become even remotely real. My breathing changed. I stayed against the wall.
I hated the sharp little twist of jealousy that came with imagining him saying it to someone else. I hated even more that it turned me on.
The next soft sound from his room made my eyes close. For a second, the wall felt like the only thing holding two completely different versions of my night apart.
*Brian’s Perspective*
She was still on my lap. That was all.
The situation had gotten heated, but we hadn’t moved anywhere. The chair remained beside the bed, close enough to the shared wall that every shift beneath us probably traveled straight through it… and I knew that.
My date seemed to like the fact that I was letting her take the lead. Her hands slid down to my wrists and lifted them above my shoulders, pressing my arms back against the wall beside my head. The chair sat close enough that there was nowhere for me to lean away; my shoulders stayed against the cushion while she held me there.
The thought of my neighbor came back instantly. Was she touching the same wall? The image landed with more force than I expected.
My date kissed me again. I responded, but not with the same hunger she seemed to want from me, and that slightly surprised me… She was attractive. I was into her. I had invited her upstairs for a reason.
But there were pieces of intimacy I suddenly didn’t want to give away casually. Not with her. I could let her sit on my lap. Let the situation get heated. Let her tease me and enjoy the fact that she clearly wanted me.
The softer things felt different. The kind of kiss where you stopped thinking. The way I wanted to talk when I actually cared about somebody. The instinct to pull someone closer and keep them there after the heat disappeared.
Those thoughts didn’t belong to the woman on my lap.
They went next door.
That realization should probably have ended the date immediately. Instead, I looked toward the wall. My date noticed.
“Again?”
“What?”
“The wall.”
I smiled slightly.
“Sorry.”
She laughed and leaned in again.
Her lips were soft, her pace was not. She pushed into me with her hips, her dress hiking farther up her thighs until her underwear and ass were fully exposed. She still had my arms pressed against the wall, and I tried to push back against her grip, but she held me there. Whatever I had done to this girl, she was determined to get a reaction out of me. She tried to kiss me, but I dodged her a few times, going for her neck instead.
Her hips were grinding harder into me, small moans escaping her lips. I thought of her above me… my neighbor, my girl next door. She would sound sweeter. She would be shy. She wouldn’t look me in the eyes, but I would turn her face toward me. I would gladly touch all over her body. I would want her close enough to smell her perfume. I would let her kiss me all she wanted. I would let her live her fantasies on me.
My date rolled her hips again. This time, I felt a pulse go through my body. I pushed up into her slightly, wanting to feel it again. I was still in my jeans, but I could feel her heat through her underwear. I closed my eyes when I felt myself react, afraid of the name that might come out.
I need her… I need my girl next door.
I closed my eyes harder, concentrating. My hands escaped her grip and immediately found her hips, holding them where I needed her. I controlled the pace now, keeping it slower but more deliberate, pulling her tighter against me until a shaky breath left my mouth before I could stop it.
Fuck.
“…good girl… just like that..”
I let out a small groan after. My eyes open and I feel betrayed. She was there, but it wasn’t her. My head falls back and I glance at the wall. I’m so close to her. I want her even closer. Can she hear how I feel? Is this what she feels? I lift my head.
My date rested her forehead against mine for a moment, catching her breath. I let my hands settle back at her waist.
She smiled.
“Okay.”
I laughed softly.
“What?”
“I need a minute..” blushing.
She shifted off my lap and stood.
“Bathroom?”
“Down the hall. Second door.”
“Thanks.”
She smoothed her clothes, still smiling, and disappeared from the bedroom. I heard her footsteps move away, the bathroom door close, while I stayed in the chair.
For the first time in several minutes, there was nothing happening around me.
No conversation.
No movement.
No distraction.
My gaze went to the wall.
I thought about the hallway again.
The missed lock.
Her expression when she saw us.
Then I thought about the sounds this chair had probably been making.
What she might have heard.
What she might think had happened in here.
And what bothered me most was how badly I wanted to know whether she had stayed to listen. The woman in my bathroom was attractive. I liked her. Still, when the room went quiet, the person I wanted to talk to was on the other side of the wall.
*Your Perspective*
The silence reached me slowly.
I stayed where I was, hand coming out from between my thighs… my back eventually slid against the wall until I was sitting on the edge of my bed, shoulder pressed into the drywall and my head turned so one ear remained close. My entire body felt warm. I was trying to calm down, but my mind kept replaying Brian’s voice.
Good girl.
Just like that.
God.
I had imagined him sounding like that before. I had imagined him saying things to me in that low, confident tone while I tried not to give him the satisfaction of knowing how badly it affected me.
Now I knew that voice actually existed. I just had no reason to believe it had been meant for me. I rested the back of my head against the wall. There were only inches between us. A wall, his bedroom, mine. That was it.
The physical reality of it made everything I had just heard feel even more invasive and intimate at the same time. He had been right there. Whatever had happened between him and that woman had taken place close enough that I could hear the furniture move beneath them.
My breathing finally started to settle. Then I heard her voice.
“I’m gonna use your bathroom.”
Brian answered, quieter.
“Down the hall. Second door.”
Footsteps moved away from the bedroom.
A door closed farther inside his apartment.
I went completely still.
Brian was alone now.
For reasons I couldn’t explain, that mattered.
I stayed against the wall.
The television was still playing across the room, completely forgotten, flickering light over the sheets and the empty space beside me.
I listened.
At first, nothing.
Then movement.
A few footsteps.
The faint compression of his mattress through the wall.
My eyes opened wider.
He had moved to his bed.
I knew exactly where that put him.
Directly opposite mine.
I shifted farther back onto my mattress until I was near the headboard.
The wall was at my shoulder now.
I raised my hand and placed my palm against it.
Earlier I had done the same thing because I wanted his voice closer.
Now he actually was.
I pictured him sitting on the other side, maybe only a few feet away, separated from me by the same wall that had spent the entire night carrying pieces of him into my bedroom.
I left my palm there.
The apartment went quiet enough that I could hear my own breathing again.
Then a single knock landed directly beneath my hand.
I jerked backward.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
The television continued playing.
Brian didn’t knock again.
He didn’t have to.
----------------------
y'all their third encounter is gonna be crazy if I don't go to hell first.
so what’s the deal with Wattpad I’ve never used it…. I uploaded my stories from here to there…. It was up for a month.
They just deleted and re uploaded my English version collection and sent me a “check the guidelines.” It disappeared and now it’s back? Idk wassup I put warnings and mature tags and it’s really just text. Idk why it’s just now… oh well
Escrito desde el POV de Armando
#romance • smut con trama • songfic • relación establecida • wc ~3k
Esto es en español… ingles aquí
Hacer el amor, Intimidad romántica, Sexo emocional, Sexo tierno, Devoción mutua, Elogios, Adoración al cuerpo, Amor devocional, Armando adorador, Actos de servicio, Profundamente enamorado, Contacto visual, Apodos cariñosos, Lento y tierno, Relación apasionada, Energía de soft dom, Armando habla español, Eres de Café Tacvba
Con Eres entrelazándose en cada pensamiento, Armando se toma su tiempo para amarte de la forma que mejor conoce: despacio, con reverencia… con una devoción que hace que estar de rodillas frente a ti se sienta exactamente como debe ser.
Eres
Lo que más quiero en este mundo, eso eres
Te recuesto lentamente sobre la cama, manteniendo una mano debajo de ti hasta que el colchón recibe tu peso. Soy cuidadoso contigo porque siempre lo soy. Amarte ha hecho que la ternura se sienta menos como una decisión y más como un instinto. Tu piel todavía conserva el calor del sofá, brillando bajo la luz tenue, y durante unos segundos no hago nada más que mirarte.
Eres hermosa de una manera que me hace entender por qué la gente lleva siglos intentando convertir el amor en pinturas y mármol. Tu cabello está un poco despeinado, tus labios todavía hinchados por mis besos, tus mejillas encendidas. Cada curva, cada pequeña marca sobre tu piel, cada detalle parece hecho con paciencia. Como si los dioses del amor se hubieran sentado a decidir exactamente cómo debían verse tus ojos cuando miraras al hombre que amas.
Y ahora mismo, esos ojos están puestos en mí.
Mi pensamiento más profundo también eresTan sólo dime lo que hago, aquí me tienes
Hay confianza en la forma en que me miras, pero también deseo, y me encanta que ninguna de las dos cosas tenga que competir con la otra. Me conoces. Conoces mis manos, mi voz, la manera en que te toco cuando quiero tenerte cerca. No existe incertidumbre entre nosotros. Sabes exactamente cuánto te amo.
Me arrodillo frente a ti y dejo un beso sobre tu tobillo. Después otro, un poco más arriba. Tu piel es tan suave que disminuyo el ritmo sin pensarlo, dejando que mi boca permanezca sobre ti antes de seguir subiendo por tu pierna.
Estar de rodillas frente a ti no se siente como rebajarme. Al contrario, se siente sincero. Hay cosas mucho peores a las que un hombre podría entregarse que hacer sentir adorada a la mujer que ama.
EresCuando despierto, lo primero, eso eres
Tu perfume se ha calentado sobre tu piel, vainilla y almizcle mezclados con ese aroma que simplemente eres tú. Lo reconozco de inmediato. Sé cómo se queda en mis camisas después de que te las pones, el rastro que dejas en mi almohada, la ligera dulzura que permanece en el asiento del copiloto después de que te bajas del carro.
Ahora te conozco en los detalles. De qué lado te acomodas para dormir. La expresión que haces cuando intentas no reírte. Cómo cambia tu voz cuando estás cansada. La forma en que tu cuerpo se acomoda contra el mío por la noche sin que ninguno de los dos despierte lo suficiente para darse cuenta.
Lo que le falta a mi vida si no vienes
Lo único, preciosa, que hoy habita en mi mente
Me acerco a tus rodillas y levanto la vista. Tienes los ojos cerrados, y tu pecho se eleva ahora un poco más con cada respiración.
Me tomo mi tiempo besándote los muslos; tu respiración se agita mientras te lamo la piel.
Tu reacción es inmediata, y sonrío contra tu piel antes de darte otro beso lento ahí. Me encanta saber que te conozco bien y que aún así puedes sorprenderme. Me encanta que, después de todo este tiempo, todavía haya nuevas expresiones que descubrir, nuevos sonidos, nuevas formas en las que tu cuerpo me dice exactamente lo que quiere.
Mis manos permanecen firmes sobre tus piernas mientras te miro.
—Hermosa.
Porque guardármelo por dentro me parece ridículo cuando estás recostada frente a mí luciendo así.
¿Qué más puedo decirte?
Tal vez pueda mentirte sin motivo
Los nombres con los que te llamo se han vuelto parte del lenguaje entre nosotros. Amor. Hermosa. Corazón. Nunca los uso a la ligera sin sentirlo de verdad. Tú lo sabes.
Eres la mujer en la que pienso cuando hago planes de los que ni siquiera te has enterado todavía. Aquella cuyas cosas favoritas noto mientras voy de compras porque mi mente ya ha aprendido a buscarte por todas partes. Sé qué flores te hacen sonreír. Sé cuándo necesitas consejo y cuándo solo necesitas que me siente a tu lado. Sé qué tipo de día has tenido por la forma en que te apoyas en mi mano cuando te toco la espalda.
Cuidarte ya no es algo que tenga que acordarme de hacer. Amarte ha hecho que fijarme en ti sea algo natural.
Pero lo que hoy siento
Es que sin ti estoy muerto, pues eres
Ahora estás justo frente a mí, con los muslos sobre mis hombros. Quiero perderme en tu calor.
Mis labios se presionan contra la tela. Estás caliente. Eres hermosa, eres mía. Vuelvo a besar la tela.
Un pequeño gemido se te escapa de la boca. Mi cielo. Mi vida.
Levanto la vista hacia tu rostro de inmediato.
Dios.
Hay momentos en los que «hermosa» parece una palabra demasiado común para ti. Estás cálida y sonrojada, y completamente desinhibida conmigo, y puedo ver cada respiración recorrer tu cuerpo. Nada en ti es fingido. Nada se ofrece para que nadie más lo admire.
Esta versión de ti pertenece a la vida privada que hemos construido juntos.
Mi niña bonita
Me permito pensarlo una vez porque nada más me parece lo suficientemente cuidadoso.
Lo que más quiero en este mundo, eso eres tú.
Dejo que mis manos recorran lentamente tu piel, sintiendo el calor bajo mis palmas. Desearte nunca ha existido por separado de amarte. Cuanto más me sumerjo en uno, más fuerte se vuelve el otro.
No solo quiero la versión impecable de ti, vestida a mi lado en algún lugar hermoso. Quiero a esta persona. Te quiero adormilada e irritada. Te quiero robándome mi lado de la cama. Te quiero riéndote tan fuerte que dejas de hacer ruido. Quiero la versión de ti parada en la cocina con algo mío puesto y la versión que me mira ahora con la respiración ya entrecortada.
Podría pasar toda mi vida conociéndote y aún así seguir deseando más.
Eres
El tiempo que comparto, eso eres
Me encanta ese tiempo que nadie más ve. Tus piernas cruzadas sobre las mías mientras estamos sentados sin hacer nada. Tus cosas mezclándose poco a poco con las mías hasta que ninguno de los dos recuerda qué pertenecía originalmente a dónde. Tu mano que se extiende hacia atrás para buscarme cuando camino detrás de ti. La forma en que instintivamente te toco la cintura al pasar.
Quiero años de esos momentos.
Quiero que esta noche se convierta en un recuerdo entre miles. Quiero tener tiempo suficiente contigo para ver cómo ambos cambiamos y aún así reconocerte al instante. Quiero cada versión futura de tu cuerpo, tu mente, tu risa, tus hábitos. Amarte no se trata de congelar este momento y mantenerte exactamente como eres.
Quiero el privilegio de conocerte una y otra vez.
Lo que la gente promete cuando se quiere
Mi salvación, mi esperanza y mi fe
Y aquí, de rodillas frente a ti, con tu calor bajo mis manos y tu respiración aún entrecortada sobre mí, entiendo las palabras «salvación» y «fe» de una manera que nunca antes había entendido. No porque crea que te enviaron aquí para salvarme, sino porque amarte ha hecho que la devoción se sienta como algo que puedo tocar. Algo que vive bajo mis palmas.
Te miro y no hay ningún otro lugar en el que prefiera estar más que aquí mismo, lo suficientemente cerca como para sentir cómo te relajas cada vez que te beso, lo suficientemente cerca como para ver cómo cambian tus ojos cuando te das cuenta de que aún no he terminado de admirarte. Si hay gracia en que te confíen algo precioso, la siento cada vez que te acercas a mí. Si la fe es elegir algo con todo tu corazón, entonces la mía es sencilla. Eres tú. Siempre has sido tú.
Con tú mirándome así desde arriba, sonrojada y hermosa y completamente mía para amarte, estar de rodillas se siente menos como una rendición y más como exactamente el lugar donde un hombre debe estar cuando sabe que tiene algo que vale la pena adorar.
Deslizo un dedo bajo tu tela de encaje, recorriéndola de arriba abajo. Tú gimes.
Hago a un lado la tela, dejando que mi aliento te dé calor.
—Armando…
Mis ojos encuentran los tuyos de inmediato.
—¿Qué, corazón?
No te apuro. Conozco tu cuerpo lo suficientemente bien como para interpretarlo, pero aún así quiero escucharte. Hay algo íntimo en ser conocida sin que te quiten la voz. Quiero cada mirada, cada caricia, cada palabra que elijas darme.
Soy
El que quiere amarte como nadie, soy
El que te daría de comer día tras día, día tras día
El que por ti daría la vida, ese soy yo
Te acercas a mí y tus manos encuentran mi cabello con la familiaridad de alguien que sabe exactamente dónde pertenece. Dejo que me atraigas hacia ti.
Me confías mucho más que tu cuerpo. Acepto la versión agotada de ti. La enojada. La insegura. La que necesita que la abracen sin que primero le hagan veinte preguntas. Acepto tu risa estruendosa y tus lágrimas silenciosas. Acepto los momentos en los que es fácil amarte y los momentos en los que no te sientes particularmente digna de ser amada. Nunca quise solo las partes fáciles.
La promesa que te hago se hace, de todos modos, principalmente a través de cosas cotidianas. Estar presente. Recordar. Dar lo que puedo. Prestar atención. Asegurarme de que nunca tengas que preguntarte si seguiré ahí cuando pase ese momento hermoso.
Te acercas a mí, con las manos en mi cabello, mis labios te tocan.
Mi lengua recorre lentamente tu raja. Mis ojos siguen fijos en los tuyos. Tus ojos no se apartan de los míos. Tu respiración tiembla cuando vuelvo a lamerte.
Mantengo la mirada en la tuya durante todo el tiempo, observando cada cambio en tu rostro. Me gusta que tú también me mires. Que incluso aquí, con tantas sensaciones compitiendo por tu atención, sigas buscando mis ojos.
—Así...
Los elogios te salen de forma natural. Quiero que escuches lo que estoy viendo. Quiero que sepas lo hermosa que eres cuando dejas de pensar en ser hermosa por completo.
Aquí estoy a tu lado
Y espero aquí sentado hasta el final
Me tomo mi tiempo porque no tengo ninguna razón para no hacerlo. Esta noche no es prestada. Y tú tampoco.
Vuelvo a tus muslos, dándote pequeños besos mientras te recuperas de mi caricia. Mis ojos siguen fijos en ti. Eres perfecta.
Dejo que mi boca se demore sobre tu piel mientras te acomodas, con mis manos moviéndose lentamente sobre tus piernas. Sé dónde cambia la textura de tu piel. Conozco las marcas que probablemente dejaste de notar hace años. Sé dónde eres sensible y dónde un beso hace que tus músculos se relajen bajo mis manos.
Cada parte de ti me resulta familiar sin llegar a ser nunca algo común.
Quizá esa sea una de las cosas que más amo. Puedo conocer tu cuerpo tan bien y aún así mirarte como si se me hubiera concedido el privilegio de verlo por primera vez.
No te has imaginado
Lo que por ti he esperado, pues eres
Otro beso en tu centro, antes de que mi lengua se adentre en ti. Un gemido. Mi nombre. Sonidos de un ángel. Lo intento de nuevo, necesito escucharte otra vez.
Tu voz me llega y mis manos te aprietan ligeramente.
Me encanta escucharte decir mi nombre. Me encanta en momentos como este, pero también me encantan todas las otras versiones. La versión somnolienta, cuando la mitad de las sílabas desaparecen. La versión irritada, cuando intentas que te tome en serio. La forma en que me llamas desde otra habitación porque ya sabes que voy a ir.
Dejo que la saliva caiga de mi lengua sobre ti
“Armando, por favor”
Alzo la mirada hacia tu rostro.
Hay algo en escucharte pedirme que agudiza cada partícula de mi atención. No quiero que actúes. Quiero verdad. Sea lo que sea que quieras de mí, quiero que te sientas lo suficientemente cómodo como para expresarlo.
—Dime, hermosa.
Y yo escucho.
Lo que yo amo en este mundo, eso eres
Te chupo tu punto más sensible. No te quito la vista de encima. Tus caderas se empujan contra mi cara y tus muslos aprietan mi cabeza. Ángel.
Mis manos envuelven tus muslos mientras sigo besando tu concha. Cierro los ojos; tus gemidos llenan mis oídos.
Te sostengo con firmeza mientras tu cuerpo se mueve bajo mis manos, quedándose exactamente donde quiero que esté.
Tu piel brilla bajo la luz tenue; el calor se extiende por tu pecho y tu abdomen. Te ves irreal. Como si cada mujer hermosa que alguna vez se haya pintado o esculpido fuera alguien que intentara, sin lograrlo, explicar lo que se siente al mirar a la persona que amas cuando ella ha olvidado por completo que existe alguien más.
Eres todo lo que quiero. El sudor que recorre tu torso. Etéreo.
Conozco tu belleza de una manera que un extraño nunca podría. La conozco moviéndose bajo mis palmas. La conozco a primera hora de la mañana, cuando tus ojos apenas están abiertos. La conozco cuando te ríes tanto que no puedes hablar y cuando insistes en que te ves horrible, mientras yo estoy ahí parado preguntándome cómo es posible que creas eso.
Te digo que eres hermosa porque te amo.
Cada minuto en lo que pienso, eso eres
El amor nunca ha atenuado mi deseo por ti. Al contrario. Cada año, cada recuerdo, cada mañana común y corriente solo le ha dado al deseo más lugares donde anclar.
Cuando pienso en ti, no es una sola versión de ti la que me viene a la mente. Son docenas a la vez. Tú a mi lado en el auto. Tú buscando algo que juras que yo moví. Tú quedándote dormida recostada contra mí. Tú bien arreglada y dándote cuenta de que te estoy mirando fijamente. Tú bajo mis manos esta noche.
Quiero tu cuerpo porque es tuyo. Porque conozco a la mujer que hay en él. Porque cada vez que te toco, estoy tocando a alguien cuya vida se ha vuelto inseparable de la mía.
Lo que más cuido en este mundo eres tú
Frotas tus caderas contra mi boca
Tranquila, chiquita.
Te ayudo ajustando mi ritmo. Preciosa.
Mis manos te mantienen firme y levanto la vista porque me niego a perderme tu rostro.
—Así, amor.
Esa dulzura sigue ahí en tus ojos, debajo de todo lo demás, el mismo amor que vi cuando te acosté. Lo reconocería en cualquier parte. Sé cómo se ve cuando me amas porque he pasado suficiente tiempo amándote a ti para aprender el lenguaje de ese amor.
Te doy otro beso en la piel y dejo que el único nombre que lo abarca todo salga de mi boca.
comment to be on my taglist for our soccer boys (Brian, Armando, Both)
sequels comingggggg......
Si quieren estar en mi lista para fics en español, solo escribe «spanish» en los comentarios
Written in Armando's POV
#romance • smut with plot • songfic • established relationship • wc ~3k
This is written in English.... Spanish here
Making Love, Romantic Intimacy, Emotional Sex, Tender Sex, Mutual Devotion, Praise, Body Worship, Devotional Love, Worshipful Armando, Acts of Service, Deeply In Love, Eye Contact, Pet Names, Slow and Tender, Passionate Relationship, Soft Dom Energy, Armando Speaks Spanish, Eres by Café Tacvba
With Eres weaving through every thought, Armando takes his time loving you the way he knows best: slowly, reverently… with devotion that makes being on his knees for you feel right
SPANISH VERSION WILL HIT!!!
-----
Eres
Lo que más quiero en este mundo, eso eres
I lay you on the bed slowly, keeping one hand beneath you until the mattress takes your weight. I’m careful with you because I always am. Loving you has made tenderness feel less like something I choose and more like instinct. Your skin is still warm from the couch, glowing beneath the low light, and for a few seconds I do nothing except look at you.
You are beautiful in a way that makes me understand why people have spent centuries trying to turn love into paintings and marble. Your hair is a little messy, your lips still swollen from kissing me, your cheeks warm with color. Every curve, every small mark on your skin, every detail feels like somebody took their time with you. Like the gods of love sat down and decided exactly how your eyes should look when you stare at the man you love.
And right now, those eyes are on me.
Mi pensamiento más profundo también eres
Tan sólo dime lo que hago, aquí me tienes
There is trust in the way you look at me, but there is want too, and I love that neither one has to compete with the other. You know me. You know my hands, my voice, the way I touch you when I want you close. There is no uncertainty between us. You know exactly how loved you are.
I lower myself in front of you and press a kiss against your ankle. Then another slightly higher. Your skin is so soft that I slow down without thinking, letting my mouth linger before moving farther up your leg.
Being on my knees in front of you doesn’t feel like lowering myself. If anything, it feels honest. There are worse things a man could devote himself to than making the woman he loves feel adored.
Eres
Cuando despierto, lo primero, eso eres
Your perfume has warmed against your skin, vanilla and musk mixed with the scent that is simply you. I know it instantly. I know the way it stays behind on my shirts after you wear them, the trace of it on my pillow, the faint sweetness in the passenger seat after you leave the car.
I know you in details now. Which side you turn toward when you sleep. The expression you make when you’re trying not to laugh. How your voice changes when you’re tired. The way your body settles against mine at night without either of us waking enough to notice.
Waking up beside you has become so normal that sometimes I forget there was ever a version of my life where you weren’t the first person I saw.
Lo que a mi vida le hace falta si no vienes
Lo único, preciosa, que en mi mente habita hoy
I reach your knees and glance up. Your eyes have fallen closed, your chest rising a little deeper now with every breath.
I take my time kissing up your thighs, your breath shakes as I lick up your skin.
Your reaction comes immediately, and I smile against your skin before pressing another slow kiss there. I love that I know you well and you can still surprise me. I love that after all this time there are still new expressions to catch, new sounds, new little ways your body tells me exactly what it wants.
My hands stay steady against your legs while I look at you.
—Hermosa.
Because keeping it inside feels ridiculous when you’re lying in front of me looking like this.
¿Qué más puedo decirte?
Tal vez puedo mentirte sin razón
The names I call you have become part of the language between us. Amor. Hermosa. Corazón. I never throw them around without meaning them. You know that.
You are the woman I think about when I make plans you haven’t even heard about yet. The one whose favorite things I notice while I’m shopping because my mind has already learned to look for you everywhere. I know what flowers make you smile. I know when you need advice and when you only need me to sit beside you. I know what kind of day you’ve had from the way you lean into my hand when I touch your back.
Taking care of you isn’t something I have to remember to do anymore. Loving you has made noticing you a second nature.
Pero lo que hoy siento
Es que sin ti estoy muerto, pues eres
You’re right in front of me now, thighs on my shoulders. I want to lose myself in your heat.
My lips press to the fabric. You’re warm. You’re gorgeous, you’re mine. I kiss the fabric again.
A small noise escapes your mouth. Mi Cielo. Mi Vida.
My eyes lift to your face immediately.
Dios.
There are moments when beautiful feels like too ordinary a word for you. You are warm and flushed and completely unguarded with me, and I can see every breath move through your body. Nothing about you is posed. Nothing is being offered for anybody else to admire.
This version of you belongs to the private life we’ve built together.
Mi niña bonita
I let myself think it once because nothing else feels careful enough.
Lo que más quiero en este mundo, eso eres
I let my hands travel slowly over your skin, feeling the warmth beneath my palms. Wanting you has never existed separately from loving you. The deeper I fall into one, the stronger the other becomes.
I don’t only want the polished version of you dressed beside me somewhere beautiful. I want this one. I want you sleepy and irritated. I want you stealing my side of the bed. I want you laughing so hard you stop making noise. I want the version of you standing in the kitchen wearing something of mine and the version looking down at me now with your breathing already unsteady.
I could spend my entire life learning you and still be greedy for more.
Eres
El tiempo que comparto, eso eres
I love the time nobody else sees. Your legs thrown over mine while we sit around doing nothing. Your things slowly mixing with mine until neither of us remembers what originally belonged where. Your hand reaching backward for me when I walk behind you. The way I instinctively touch your waist when I pass.
I want years of those moments.
I want tonight to become one memory among thousands. I want enough time with you to watch both of us change and still recognize you instantly. I want every future version of your body, your mind, your laugh, your habits. Loving you isn’t about freezing this moment and keeping you exactly as you are.
I want the privilege of meeting you again and again.
Lo que la gente promete cuando se quiere
Mi salvación, mi esperanza y mi fe
And here, on my knees in front of you, with your warmth under my hands and your breathing still uneven above me, I understand the words salvation and faith in a way I never did before. Not because I think you were sent here to save me, but because loving you has made devotion feel like something I can touch. Something living beneath my palms.
I look up at you and there is nowhere else I would rather be than right here, close enough to feel you soften whenever I kiss you, close enough to watch your eyes change when you realize I’m not finished admiring you. If there is grace in being trusted with something precious, I feel it every time you reach for me. If faith is choosing something with your whole heart, then mine is easy. It is you. It has always been you.
With you looking down at me like that, flushed and beautiful and completely mine to love, being on my knees feels less like surrender and more like exactly where a man should be when he knows he has something worth worshipping.
I slip a finger under your lace fabric running it up and down. You whimper.
I move the fabric to the side, letting my breath add heat to you.
“Armando…”
My eyes find yours immediately.
—¿Qué, corazón?
I don’t rush you. I know your body well enough to read it, but I still want to hear you. There is something intimate about being known without having your voice taken away from you. I want every look, every touch, every word you choose to give me.
Soy
El que quererte quiere como nadie, soy
El que te llevaría el sustento día a día, día a día
El que por ti daría la vida, ese soy
You reach for me and your hands find my hair with the familiarity of someone who knows exactly where she belongs. I let you pull me closer.
You trust me with far more than your body. I get the exhausted version of you. The angry one. The insecure one. The one who needs to be held without being asked twenty questions first. I get your loud laughter and your quiet tears. I get the moments when you are easy to love and the moments when you don’t particularly feel like being lovable. I never wanted only the easy parts.
The promise I make to you is mostly made through ordinary things anyway. Showing up. Remembering. Providing what I can. Paying attention. Making sure you never have to wonder whether I’ll still be there when the beautiful moment passes.
You push towards me, hands in my hair, my lips touch you.
My tongue slowly travels up your slit. Eyes still on yours. You eyes wont leave mine. Your breath shakes as I lick again.
I keep my eyes on yours through it, watching every change in your face. I like that you’re watching me too. That even here, with so much sensation competing for your attention, you still look for my eyes.
—Así...
Praise comes naturally with you. I want you to hear what I’m seeing. I want you to know how beautiful you are when you stop thinking about being beautiful at all.
Aquí estoy a tu lado
Y espero aquí sentado hasta el final
I take my time because I have no reason not to. Tonight isn’t borrowed. Neither are you.
I move back to your thighs, small kisses as you recover from my touch. Eyes still on you. You are perfect.
I let my mouth linger against your skin while you settle, my hands moving slowly over your legs. I know where your skin changes texture. I know the marks you probably stopped noticing years ago. I know where you’re sensitive and where a kiss makes your muscles loosen beneath my hands.
Every part of you feels familiar without ever becoming ordinary.
That may be one of the things I love most. I can know your body this well and still look at you like I’ve been given the privilege of seeing it for the first time.
No te has imaginado
Lo que por ti he esperado, pues eres
Another kiss on your center, before my tongue dips inside. A moan. My name. Sounds of an angel. I try again, I need to hear you again.
Your voice reaches me and my hands tighten slightly around you.
I love hearing you say my name. I love it in moments like this, but I love all the other versions too. The sleepy version when half the syllables disappear. The irritated version when you’re trying to make me take you seriously. The way you call for me from another room because you already know I’ll come.
I let spit fall off my tongue onto you
"Armando please"
My eyes lift to your face.
There is something about hearing you ask for me that sharpens every bit of my attention. I don’t want performance from you. I want truth. Whatever you want from me, I want you comfortable enough to give it a voice.
—Dime, hermosa.
And I listen.
Lo que yo amo en este mundo, eso eres
I suck at your most sensitive spot. Eyes on you. Your hips push against my face and your thighs squeeze my head. Angel.
My hands wraps your thighs as I continue kissing your cunt. My eyes close, your cries fill my ears.
I hold you securely while your body moves beneath my hands, staying exactly where I want to be.
Your skin glistens beneath the dim light, warmth spread across your chest and stomach. You look unreal. Like every beautiful woman ever painted or carved was somebody trying and failing to explain what it feels like to look at the person you love when she has completely forgotten anyone else exists.
You are all I want. The sweat across your torso. Ethereal.
I know your beauty in ways a stranger never could. I know it moving beneath my palms. I know it first thing in the morning when your eyes are barely open. I know it when you’re laughing so hard you can’t speak and when you insist you look terrible while I’m standing there wondering how you could possibly believe that.
I tell you you’re beautiful because I love you.
Cada minuto en lo que pienso, eso eres
Love has never dulled my want for you. It has done the opposite. Every year, every memory, every ordinary morning has only given desire more places to attach itself.
When I think about you, it isn’t one version of you that comes to mind. It’s dozens at once. You beside me in the car. You looking for something you swear I moved. You falling asleep against me. You dressed up and catching me staring. You beneath my hands tonight.
I want your body because it is yours. Because I know the woman inside it. Because every time I touch you I’m touching somebody whose life has become inseparable from mine.
Lo que más cuido en este mundo eso eres
You grind your hips onto my mouth
steady baby
I help by adjusting my pace. Preciosa.
My hands keep you steady and I look up because I refuse to miss your face.
—Así, amor.
That softness is still there in your eyes beneath everything else, the same love I saw when I laid you down. I would recognize it anywhere. I know what it looks like when you love me because I have spent enough time loving you back to learn the language of it.
I press another kiss to your skin and let the one name that carries everything else leave my mouth.
Armando is quieter, but not shy or passive. He’s confident, a little sassy, and usually aware of what’s happening between you before you say anything. He doesn’t need to constantly tell you what he wants because he tends to show it first, then say one thing that makes the whole moment heavier.
affectionate in a way that can sound casual until you realize it really isn’t
worships you
notices changes in your mood, your breathing, the way you react when he gets close
talks you through it
acts of service
gets very quiet when you’re in charge
traditional
says fewer things, but what he does say usually has some kind of double meaning
affirmations during sex
has to control himself when he’s very possessive with you in bed
always praises you
can be possessive without making a huge scene out of it
gives you roses
wet, sloppy kisses
physically confident, but slower and more measured
strong eye contact
grinding
his affection usually shows up through taking care of you, remembering details, staying close, quietly doing things for you
loves kissing your thighs before pleasuring you
when he gets jealous or affected, it tends to show in small shifts instead of a big confrontation
confident in every situation
sexting
has a habit of letting something very intimate slip out and then acting like it was completely normal
fwb- casual but there’s lingering feelings, protectiveness, never admitting, mutual understanding and attraction
emotionally, he wants trust more than performance
His scenes can be anything from best friends crossing a line, to an established relationship, to something casual getting way too serious. The common thread is that there is usually something sitting underneath the surface. He’ll let a pet name get a little too soft, touch you a little too long, or say something almost romantic and move right past it while you’re left wondering if he meant exactly what you think he meant.
Armando notices the reaction before you can hide it and quietly does something with that information.
Pet names: amor, mi amor, preciosa, linda, hermosa, corazón, mi vida, bonita, cielo, chiquita.
when I started this journey I was 90% a Brian girl but now it’s like truly 49% Brian 51% Armando. Like just thinking about him makes me blush and IDK WHERE IT CAME FROM BUT I LOVE IT
