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the-californicationist · 4 months

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Hello Cali ❤️. Por alguna razón no te había visto más en mi muro de tumblr y me preguntaba si no estabas aquí, por eso busqué tu perfil y me di cuenta que tumblr me estaba jugando una mala pasada.

How are you??? I'm so busy because I have a loooot of work, pero me tomaré el tiempo de leer todo lo que me perdí de ti ✨✨✨

YOU ARE THE BEST, OK? I LOVE YOU ❤️💍

Quisiera que escribieras un smut de John Price CEO/Mafia con un Reader inteligente y astuto, que queda cautivado cuando John comienza a seducirla, porfis ✨

Anything for you, my friend!! I love you so much <3 <3

Wonderland

John Price is a famous mob boss... but you don't know that. All you know is that you've got a crush on a mysterious, handsome man, and you're willing to go all the way to find out if his bite is as bad as his bark.

The parking garage was dark, and the concrete seemed to hold in the cold like a freezer. It felt like ice on his cheekbone, and not even the blood from his eye socket was enough to warm the skin. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, that odd whooshing sound, and in a distant memory he could recall the first time he had ever gotten a black eye. But, all that was gone now. He had ratted out the one man that no one had dared fuck with in the past five years: John Fucking Price.

Those fucking coppers had said they’d protect him. He even had his people outside his house every hour of every day. How could this happen? He had to admit, he wasn’t even scared, he was just pissed off. Fucking bastards. They’d get what was coming to them. Maybe he’d tell them so. Not like they'd give him any more chances.

“Fuck you, Price. I hope those pigs skin you alive,” he spit out the blood that had began to pool in his mouth, and hoped it hit those stupid boots John was always wearing.

John Price slid his shoe away from the red stain that had began to swell on the ground, keeping his kangaroo leather Berlutis from ruin. The fool beneath his feet had no idea what was about to happen to him, and John almost felt sorry about it, if only for a moment. He and Vinson had been friends once. Hell, he’d even stood up at his wedding.

“Vince, what did I tell you about that bloody mouth of yours? Said it'd get you into trouble, didn't I? Wish there was something I could do for you now, cause you and me, we used to be mates. But, I can't afford friends like you. Not anymore," Price gave the rat a quick shove with his heel and watched as the stain smeared in a thin streak across the cement. He turned to his men,

"Well, lads, I've got a party to get to. You wouldn't mind cleaning things up here for me, would’ya?"

"No, boss," was their quiet reply.

"You'll be sorry, you goddamn pussy!" Vinson was screaming now, "I hope they hang you from the fuckin’-”

Bang! The loud gunshot echoed through the hollow space.

Vinson didn't say anything after that.

"Let's get outta here, Gaz."

"Right away, boss," Gaz opened the door to the limo and prepared to drive John back into the city. There was a big gala at the Genting Casino tonight, and Mr. John T. Price was never late.

He was never early either. In fact, he was perfection incarnate. When he was younger, that wasn't always the case, but after his father died, he had needed to change. No one was fit to rule Liverpool in his stead, and he was thankful that no one had been foolish enough to try. His father had made this town what it is. Liverpool was built by his family, and even though everyone thought the Price regime had grown tired of their reign on the old docks, they couldn't have been farther from the truth.

John had his cut from all of the major casinos, and he traded security in exchange. He owned two of them himself, along with four shopping malls, five bars, three neighborhoods, two apartment complexes, and a golf course - not to mention the property that wasn't in his name. He made sure to give his men plenty of reign over their own enterprises, even if most of them were strip clubs. But, he didn't care. As long as tribute came in every quarter, he never messed around in their business.

He thought Vinson was one he could trust. He'd even given him a car dealership just last month.

"Don't run it into the ground, Vince," he had said.

But, no. What had the little bastard gone and done? Put a tracker on his car and dropped bugs in his office. After everything he'd done for him, that's how he was repaid? To tell the truth, John never liked violence. It was awkward. But, his father had given him fists and showed him how to use them, so there was really no going against it. Violence and fear were vital pieces of the only language that men like Vince could understand. Now, with another family coming to Liverpool, John had to be on his best behavior. Even if 'best' was a little more loosely defined.

As he lit the tip of his last cigar, he reminded Gaz to grab him another few sticks on the way home. Gaz would've never turned coat on him like Vince did. He'd give him the car lot.

"You want the dealership on Sefton street, Kyle?" He offered.

"Sure, boss. Thanks a lot," Gaz smiled, knowing exactly which business he was talking about, "You want me to pull around back?"

They had arrived at the main entrance. Throngs of people were craning around the limo, trying to see who was inside. John thought about it for a second, smushed his cigar tip into the ashtray, and adjusted his tie.

"Nah," he said, "We'll give them the show tonight."

"Sure thing, boss."

Gaz parked the car and leapt out of the cab. His hand was on the door before John could take another breath, and on either side of the door, some of Price’s own foot soldiers took up their posts as bodyguards. When he emerged from the muffled quiet of the limo, it shocked John for a moment to be in such a whirl of chaos.

"Mr. Price, can I get a photo?"

"Over here, please, Mr. Price," a cute reporter was frantic enough to step in front of his men. They picked her up and put her back in the crowd.

John made sure to smile and wave, shake hands with those he had seen before, but he knew it was safer inside.

The manager greeted him warmly and, he noted, by first name,

"John! Good to see you again, mate. We've got just the table for you, tonight. Wait til you see the legs on these girls! It'll be a night to remember."

"I'm sure it will."

"Ah, sorry, but we don't allow weapons past the main floor," the manager's face fell. So did Kyle’s.

Gaz cleared his throat,

"I'm sure you can make an exception for Mr. Price. We'll be very discreet."

It was more of a threat than a promise, and John smiled at his friend's heavy tone. Kyle was anything if not polite.

"Uh, yes, we can certainly make arrangements. Right this way, gentlemen," and now the manager was nothing if not nervous. Perfect.

The night continued as well as it could, but he had never really enjoyed gambling. Why make all this money if he was just going to throw it into the wind? But, he could mingle with the right people here. Except that these weren't his people. He had come as a favor to his long time friend, Alex Keller, but Alex was nowhere to be found.

"Passed out on his missus’ tits, probably!" One of the strangers guffawed at the other end of the Blackjack table.

"He’ll show, don't you worry," another replied.

Well, John didn't have all night to wait on a man to get to his own party. He needed a drink. When he rose to head to the bar, Gaz stopped him,

"I'll get it, boss. No need to bother yourself with it."

The table was silent. The strangers who had been so brassy before were now silent and transfixed on the pair of men at their table, one of whom was important enough to have his slightest whim catered to at a moment's notice.

"It's alright, Garrick. Play my hand, yeah? I'm headed out for a smoke."

"Yes, sir."

John retreated. The awkward stares and weird glances were too much for him to bear. Surely there was a patio around here, somewhere.

By the time he found one, he was disappointed to see it was occupied.

"Oh, beg your pardon. Thought I was alone out here," he said.

To his shock, it was a woman's voice that responded from the shadows. Your voice.

"You're fine. You got a light? Fuckin’ matches are all wet..." You fumbled with the book, striking to no avail.

He smirked,

"I have the fire if you've got an extra smoke."

"Fair trade," you smiled back jokingly.

You were dressed in a clean chef's coat, your hair was pulled up, and you might have been going without makeup, but it was almost too dark to tell. It certainly wasn't casino makeup, that was for sure. John watched as you tugged two cigarettes free from the box, put them to your soft lips, and covered his flame with your hand. Your fingernail paint was pink and chipped. You pulled in the fire of both cigarettes and offered one to him. He took it,

"Thanks."

You grunted in a minimal response.

"So, you're a chef?" He asked.

You raised an eyebrow at him, giving him the glare he deserved for such an obvious question.

He back pedaled,

"I mean, you work here as a chef. I just thought, with the coat...I mean, where's your big bloody hat? You need the hat."

You laughed. It was wonderful to hear, and he liked the way your mouth moved when you started to speak,

"Yeah, I work here. Have for the past three years or so. Bill signed me on as head chef, and I've been slaving away for him ever since."

"Bill?"

"Oh, he's the culinary manager. Runs all the restaurants in the casino and the hotel. When the last guy disappeared into thin air, they had to scramble to find someone, I guess. What about you? Where's your fancy hat? Based on that Hermes tie, I'm gonna assume you're here with the party."

He mindlessly adjusted his tie, noticing its feel on his neck as she called it out,

"Well, I might be."

"Yeah? You some kind of big-shot?" You eyed him again, challenging him to answer with something more than a yes or a no. You had heard yes and no plenty of times.

"I might be," he wouldn't give in.

"If we keep going like this all night, you might end up being the Queen, for all I know."

You both laughed, but then, you sighed,

"Oh well, Mr. Mystery. Keep your secrets then," you shrugged and turned away from him.

He couldn't have that.

"What's your name?" He asked.

"Sarah," you spun back around, "Rachel. Tiffany. Willamina. Might be anything."

You had the audacity to wink at him.

"Alright, you got me, love," he moved a little closer to you, "I'm John. John Price."

He extended his hand and waited for the bad news to sink in. No one who knew his name in this town would be dumb enough to be on a patio alone with him at night. He had dodged the media for a long time, but his trials always managed to get leaked. Twelve accounts of assault and battery, two separate accounts of theft, three murder charges - all acquitted of course. But, still, he was no stranger to ducking the law.

"John? Of all the names," you shook your head and smiled, taking his hand firmly, "Pleasure to meet you."

"You as well. You've never heard of me?"

"Oh, Jesus," you lamented, "Are you famous or something? Look, if I'm not in the kitchen, I'm at home asleep. Sorry. I don't even watch TV."

"No, nothing like that, I just - " He thought about it for a moment before you saw him decide to take a different trajectory, “Not famous.”

“Why is it that I feel a little bit like Alice tonight?” You took a long drag and let the smoke fall from your lips, “Like I’m following a white rabbit down a deep, dark hole.”

He chuckled, and you enjoyed seeing his eyes shine with his laughter,

“If you follow me down,” he sidled up to you, his face close enough to yours so you could smell the balsam in his aftershave, “I’ll show you just how deep the rabbit hole goes.”

A man’s voice cleared his throat behind you, and you both turned to look at who it was.

“Garrick?” John asked, clearly annoyed.

“Yes, sir. Johnny and Simon made it up. They said they know why Keller hasn’t shown.”

John didn’t answer. He simply turned back to look into your eyes, trying to divine some sort of future from them. He must’ve liked what he saw because the next thing you knew, you were being given a golden key card. Top floor.

Not famous, my arse, you thought to yourself.

“Why don’t you take the night off, love. Come see Wonderland, yeah? I’ll be right behind you.”

“My, my,” you said, palming the card from him, “No one ever tells you no.”

Another smile, a little colder than the first,

“No, they don’t.”

“Maybe I will,” you pulled the tiger’s tail.

“You won’t,” the tiger growled back.

As you watched him leave the small patio, his broad back stretching that expensive suit, his thick fingers flicking his half-smoked cigarette off the balcony’s edge, you were kicking yourself. You knew you were going up to his room, even though something inside of you really wanted to yank this guy’s chain. But, his dark, purring voice had made Wonderland sound so inviting… maybe just one little peek wouldn’t hurt?

You waited a whole five minutes before slinking off to the service elevator, cutting out for the night. No one was making dinner anyway; it was the bar that was slammed. You’d already cleaned and prepped your station, so no one would miss you.

You ducked into the bathroom just before the top floor, getting off on the service side in an empty hallway, checking your face for stray flour or coffee stained teeth. You smelled like a pizza oven, but maybe you could sneak a shower before he showed up?.

What a slut, you heard the angel on your shoulder chastise you.

So, what? The devil’s side replied, indignant.

You peeled the chef’s coat off of your body. All you had underneath was a black tee. It was cropped a bit too high for work, but you wore it anyway. Your black work pants were covered in flour and dried food. You brushed them off as best you could. It would have to do. You shoved your coat into your bag and headed back to the hallway.

Luckily, the main elevator was vacant, as was the hallway, so you wouldn’t run into any other guests on your way to Wonderland.

The angel rolled his eyes. The devil glared at him.

The elevator dinged, and you inserted the gold card, clicking the very topmost button to the penthouse.

You’d been up here before. Sometimes, you picked up cleaning shifts on your off days for the extra cash, so you knew the layout. But, that had been in the cold, hygienic light of day. At night, this floor was a sparkling vision. When the elevator doors opened, huge clear windows reached all the way into the ceiling, framing Liverpool’s city center, looking more beautiful than it ever seemed from the ground.

You took quiet, uncertain steps out of the lift, checking for any signs of life. There were none, so you made your way to the bathroom. Huge black marble monolith slabs were carved in a semicircle, a nautilus that curled around the four separate shower heads, all ready to pour their steaming water down your naked body.

You stripped, stepping into the stream, letting yourself pretend that you lived in this sort of luxury for a moment. A soft lather of soap and a little shampoo later and you were clean. The single-use toothbrush and paste was in the hidden drawer that no guest would ever notice, so you stole an extra set, scrubbing yourself to a minty shine.

A pair of black satin robes hung in the closet, so you stole one, tying it around your waist, fully aware that one stiff breeze and the loose-fitting garment would fly right off of you. The soft fabric lay against your skin in the most sensual way, barely touching you and yet making you feel touched.

You explored the hotel room a bit, avoiding Mr. Price’s suitcase like it would bite you. The kitchen came stocked with ice buckets of champagne, so you helped yourself to one, pouring a glass and lounging by the window, wondering how long you’d have to wait for your date.

Fortunately for you, only an hour had passed and you heard the elevator ding. Out from the dark lift came the man himself… bleeding from his lip.

“John! What happened?” You put down your wine and rushed over to him.

He held you back, waving you off like it was nothing,

“Don’t worry, love. Just a bit of a scuffle, tha’s all.”

“But —”

“Seriously,” he grabbed you by your arms and looked you up and down, enjoying the wide opening of the robe as it revealed your body to him, “You should see the other bloke. Let me get cleaned up. Pour me one of those, would’ya?”

Before you could protest, he ducked into the bathroom, out of your reach. You were left standing there, worried and a little concerned for your own wellbeing. You didn’t actually know this man at all, and here you were, lamb to the slaughter, eager and bleating happily.

While he was in the bath, you decided to do a little research. You searched up his name, and you were finding almost no hits, until you stumbled upon a mugshot.

There he was… the notorious mob boss, ruler of the English underground arms dealing circuit, enforcer and racketeering extraordinaire. And here you were, nearly naked in his room with not so much as a penknife within reach. This guy had been in the armed forces, special forces, black ops — the works. He retired and fell into the armed security world, making a name for himself by pushing out the competition by any means necessary. His father had maintained ties to the dark underground, and now John had taken over the family business, doing shady deals for the government and crime organizations alike. All of it was hearsay, of course, and none of the charges had ever landed a single hit… but you knew the truth.

John Price was the most dangerous man in the world; Liverpool’s crime arena was just a quiet little hobby for a man like him. If he wanted to, he could make you disappear like a magician behind a mirror. Gone without a trace.

What would you do? Would you run? Where would you go? How would you explain your sudden exit? Food poisoning?

Before you could even begin to formulate a plan, John was out of the shower. He looked incredible. His hulking, heavy form was steaming from the hot water, and his hairy chest was uncovered. He’d slipped into a pair of running shorts and nothing else, so his brutal body was on display for you. He was covered in scars, and he was heavyset, but his largeness was from his strength. His core was bulky and strong, and when he moved, you could see the tight muscles rolling around beneath the skin like a snake ready to strike.

He turned to you, but even though he wore a smile at first, the moment he made eye contact, his face fell. Somehow, he knew that you knew.

He sighed,

“What did you see?”

He rushed over to his suitcase but found it still locked, looking back to you quizzically. You didn’t move, you didn’t dare. John stepped over to you slowly, deliberately, almost as if he was ready for another fight.

You turned your phone towards him and showed him his own mugshot.

“Thought you said you weren’t famous,” you whispered. Your voice sounded so small and far away, you almost felt like you hadn’t spoken the words.

He smiled bitterly, tossing his towel on a nearby chair and sat beside you on the bed,

“Cat’s out of the bag, then?”

“Yeah,” you looked down at your phone, unable to look him in the eye.

“Go on,” he waved his hand at you, motioning toward the door, “Get out.”

You didn’t move. You should have. Every fiber in your being was telling you to make a break for it. Now was your chance. And yet… you stayed. It was silent for a long while. You could feel his gaze raking over you, hot and heavy. His breaths rumbled in his chest.

“Go!” He spat, “No one’s keeping you prisoner here, girl. That’s me, alright, and the newspapers don’t even know the bloody half of it. Just go.”

You reacted to his volume, shirking back a bit, but you still didn’t stand. You looked at him then, searching for the kindness you thought you saw on the patio just hours before, checking to see if it was still there, if it was even real.

When you met his eyes, his fury was masking a very real pain. He was angry, sure, but the ache of being cast out was apparent, even though you were the one doing the leaving, and you just wanted that bit of brightness back again.

John studied you, watching your every movement, trying to determine what you were thinking but coming up short. He stood right in front of you, his hips inches from your face, and he asked,

“What are you waitin’ on, love?”

A strong thumb lifted your chin, raising your jaw up to look at him again, and he used his enormous hand to grab your face, keeping you there under his will.

“I know you’re afraid of me,” he commented softly, “I can feel it.”

“So?” You replied, trying to keep your tone steady.

His voice was bitter and mocking, and as he leaned forward, you could smell his clean, warm skin,

“You wanna play with the big bad wolf, hm? See if I bite?”

He grabbed you a little too tightly, trying to scare you. It worked, but you tried not to show it. Instead, you decided to place both of your hands at his hips, your palms flat against his warm belly, feeling the dark hair that formed a faithful trail, guiding your eyes down to his waistband.

It was his turn to be surprised. You felt his breathing catch as you moved your hands up along his ribcage, rubbing gentle circles into his skin, petting him like a skittish hound, expecting him to snap.

Letting go of your face, he grabbed your wrist, and just as you thought he was going to stop you, he took your hand and placed it on his chest, stretching your arm all the way up from where you were sat, making you extend your spine as you reached up to him. Your fingers traced the fur that lay flat against his pectorals, and finally, you plucked at his nipples, not allowing there to be any question as to your intentions.

The tip of his wide finger dipped into the silken collar of your robe, swirling around your neck and following it down to the swell of your breast. He didn’t find your peak, but he didn’t seem to care to. He was just exploring.

Suddenly, John moved faster than you could even begin to understand what was happening. He had reached under you, lifting you, and then tossed you back down on the bed. You lay, sprawled, trying to catch your bearings, and then you were covered by his huge form, his wide body casting shadows over your vision, cloaking you in his own private darkness.

His mouth was on you like a hot flame, licking and burning and biting and sucking wherever he wanted to, eager to taste every inch of your skin, the imperfections of a wrinkle or a freckle seemed to go fully unnoticed as he devoured you, sucking you down like his last meal.

You were overwhelmed by the pleasure he was stoking inside of you, and you let a small mewling sound escape from your lips that caught his attention.

“Mm,” he climbed up your body so that you were face to face, “Enjoying your walk on the dark side, love? Think you’re tainted by me now? Or maybe that’s what you wanted, is it? Something naughty, just for a night?”

You didn’t understand his negativity, nor the self-deprecation, so you tried to protest,

“No, I —”

“It’s alright. I’ll show you how to be a bad girl. I’ll teach you, love. C’mere.”

His voice was smoldering and sticky, clinging to your ears with some of that same bitterness from before. But, you didn’t have time to worry about that. He was standing by the bedside again, and he grabbed your arms, making your head and shoulders hang part way off of the mattress. You were left staring at his thick thighs and scarred knees, worried about what he was up to.

Then, all became clear. He had dropped his running shorts, and the fattest cock you’d ever seen hung down, shining with drool, ready to be fed into your mouth.

Your eyes went wide, and although you reached your hand out to try and brace against his legs, it was no use. He supported your head from underneath and bent himself over until the tip of his swollen cockhead touched your lips, the gleaming precome sticking to you like gloss.

Unwilling to be frightened by his aggression, you opened your mouth for him, laving your tongue across his turgid flesh, allowing him to press himself inside of you.

His cock was slick on the head but dry on his shaft, so you did your best to wet him, licking and sucking as he pumped himself in and out, already nearing the back of your throat and not even halfway sheathed.

When he nudged your soft palate, making you gag a bit, you made a noise. You tried steadying him with your hand, and he grunted, grabbing both of your arms by the wrist, holding them above your face, clutched to his hip. Then, he continued to fuck your face, ignoring your writhing gasps for breath.

Your throat tightened around him, but you tried to stay calm. You’d never taken anyone this deep before, but you stilled yourself, ignoring the urge to panic, and you made a point to swallow, feeling your throat squeeze around his head. You could taste him as he painted the back of your throat, salty and sweet at the same time.

That made him moan, and you felt like you’d won some sort of battle. If he was trying to frighten you, it was going to take more than just a little rough sex.

“Mm, fuck… Maybe you are a naughty little girl, aye?”

You hummed, making sure you could feel the vibrations travel through his girth.

He removed himself fully, taking a trail of your own drool with him, gasping from the pleasure of your mouth.

“Fuck, I need to taste you,” he muttered darkly, crawling over you and settling himself between your legs.

You tried to lift yourself back onto the bed, but he kept you hanging there, pinning you down with his strong arm, pressing into your belly with his hand to prevent you from sitting up. Finally, after feeling him kiss and nip at your thighs, teasing you mercilessly, you felt the warm, wet slip of his tongue as it fell between your lips, tasting your throbbing pussy for the first time.

The robe was half-off, and only the tie around your waist was even providing any coverage, and you realized that as he began to eat you, he was yanking off your clothes as well, ripping through the knot of the robe to free you from the fabric.

Now, his mouth moved deeper, and you felt him seal his lips to your pussy, messily drinking you in. As he fucked you with his tongue, his mouth and jaw were strong enough to rock your body up and down on the soft bed, making it seem as if he were actually using his smooth wet muscle as a writhing cock, thrusting it up into you and reaching deep into your hole.

The scruff of his beard was enough to make you want to come, much less the power that he ate you with. Every deep, curling lick sent sparks into your core, making your pussy drip with eager stickiness. It was hungry for that fat, uncut cock, forcing you to imagine how delightful it would be when he popped his giant head into your pink flesh.

You were keening for him. Well, it wasn’t exactly for him, per se. The noises you were making were coming from your throat against your will. If you didn’t scream, you’d pass the hell out, you were sure of it.

“Fuck, that’s it, love. Get loud for me. Ungh… you taste… mmfh… so damn sweet,” he was ruthless, speaking between long suckles from his mouth, commanding you from below.

You wished you could see him, but all you could see from your hanging position was the giant window, looking out across the sparkling city. So, you called out to him, your voice thick with want, with need,

“John…”

That was all it took. He tugged your hips down until he was above you again, prowling over you like some sort of beast, all snarling unbridled lust and appetite. As soon as he was in position — and your body knew he was in position — everything stopped. He stopped.

John looked down at you and became… different. The flirty bloke from the patio was back, and he smiled at you. You smiled back, out of breath and already drunk with hunger, but that was all he needed. He kissed you deeply, making you taste your own musk, and as his soft lips slid over yours, you felt the pressure of his huge cock at your hole, pressing through your folds to reach your hot, soaked center.

You gasped through his kiss, both of you moaning in the same timbre as you felt his heavy dick fit into you for the first time, a sparkling desire swirling within you as every delicious inch of him buried itself in you. He began to thrust himself up into your aching slit, fucking you on half of his length, and then using your own sticky fluid to slip himself the rest of the way in.

“Bloody hell, this fuckin’ pussy… fuck me,” he groaned, wrenching his eyes shut from the pleasure.

“Holy shit,” you breathed.

“Yeah?” He asked, seeking your praise.

“You’re fucking huge,” you didn’t mean to sound so concerned, but there was a part of you that was.

He sat back on his heels, taking some of the pressure away, staring down at your body lecherously, savoring your tits and fondling them in his hands,

“Alright, love?”

“You feel so good,” you insisted, wrapping your hands around his arms as he enjoyed your body.

“Tell me again,” he said, grunting again as he fucked his cock deeper inside of you, reaching a new end before dragging himself all the way back out just so he could start the journey again. He upped his tempo, pounding into you with his weight, the loud smack of his body against yours beating into you like a drum.

“Tell. Me. Again,” he growled his warning, snarling down at you, pinching your nipple to punish you for your silence.

You were gasping for breath. He was so deep now, you could feel the pressure of it in your belly. Between sharp intakes of air, you hissed,

“You… feel.. so… fucking… good…”

“That’s my girl,” he bent over you again and that familiar pressure returned. His cock was too big, and yet you took it anyway. Your body was panic and pleasure all at the same time, and he had you pinned down for the ride of your life.

You weren’t sure how many hours passed that night. He seemed to have the stamina of a much younger man, and every time you dozed off, you’d wake up again to fingers or tongue or cock playing inside of your folds, coaxing you to open yourself up to him. You were happy to oblige, but you were properly fuck drunk. If someone asked you for the alphabet, you weren’t positive you trusted your answer. But, when John Price asked you to open your mouth or your legs for him, you were the top scholar.

A golden, creamy dawn was rising up over the docks as you stared out the window. John’s hand was rubbing your bare back in long, relaxing strokes, and he was leaving soft, lazy kisses down your spine. You knew you were a mess. Your hair was tangled; you’d thrown it up into a messy bun on the second runthrough, done with trying to pretend to be a pristine hot girl. Your body was covered in his marks. Bruises from his teeth and red welts from a delightful slap on the ass or two were painted across you like little tattoos to commemorate your coupling.

“You alright, love?” He checked in on you.

He’d been checking in all night. For all his ruthlessness, he never crossed a line, and he never forgot to make sure you were safe. Sometime in the wee hours, he’d even made you drink a bottle of water and eat some fruit to hydrate, teasing you with grapes like some sort of earthly Baccus.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “Looks like it’s time for me to get out of your hair. Not sure I should be seen by the public in my current state.”

“You have work, or…” John looked confused.

You thought about lying to him for a moment. It would hurt so much less for you to just break it off now in the soft dawn glow rather than a painful goodbye over cold breakfast. But, you didn’t.

“No, just… don’t wanna fool myself into thinking this was something that it wasn’t.”

Your truth hung there in the air for a moment, but before he could open his mouth to reply, you heard the elevator ding.

You turned to look at it, but he didn’t. Instead, he pulled you off the bed and forced you to the floor. It was so fast that you didn’t even realize what he’d done until your nose was in the carpet. Then, you heard a sharp, snapping pop of something hitting the bed.

You watched in horror as John’s hand reached under the mattress and pulled out a small pistol. He held it like a professional, calm and trained, and shot twice. Then, it was quiet again.

He helped you to your feet, and he was telling you something, but your brain wasn’t registering his words. What had happened? Why were there bullet holes in the mattress? Who had he shot?

Then, you saw it. A man’s body was laying across the door of the elevator. Wanting to descend, the elevator’s alarm wailed, beeping and beeping.

John grabbed your jaw and made you listen to him,

“We have to go. Now. Get your clothes on. Now. Now.”

“Okay…” You couldn’t move. It was so hard to even lift your arms. They felt like solid lead. You just wanted to sink back to the floor. Maybe if you could just…

“Hey! Now!”

He shoved your clothes into your hands and you started to put them on, doing your best not to look at the elevator. John was packing a black bag, half-dressed himself, and checking the windows over and over, looking for something in the streets below.

“There’s no time, c’mon, love.”

You felt his hand cover yours as he led you to the elevator. You watched him ruthlessly kick the body away from the doors and push you inside. Once you were in, the doors closed and you rode in silence with him. You could only hear your heart in your ears.

“...to my car. Stay close to me.”

“Okay…” It was all you could say. No other words even dared to come to mind.

“Hey,” he held your face in his as the floor numbers dropped to the teens, “You’re alright. I’ll keep you safe.”

“Okay.”

The doors opened, and you found it extremely weird that the lobby was empty. There were no workers, no guests, not even a custodian. It was just a big, silent cavern in what was usually a lively casino.

He was leading you out to the parking garage, and just as you stepped into the concrete enclave, you heard the screech of tires round the corner. John stood in front of you and gripped the gun in his hand, but he didn’t move away.

The car stopped in front of you, and you braced yourself, hiding behind your lover as much as you could.

“Get in, boss! They’re right bloody behind us. Soap, shove over,” a man’s voice came from the car. He was in the driver’s seat, and he was wearing a ballcap with the Union Jack emblazoned on the top. In his passenger seat was a man in a black balaclava, and in the back was a bright-eyed man with a mohawk who you guessed had to be Soap.

“C’mon, love,” John shoved you inside just as a black SUV rounded the same corner, the engine roaring when it saw Price’s car.

Gunshots rang out, and you knew some of them had hit the car. You worried for John, but he stood straight up, aiming carefully for the driver, and fired his gun. As if you were in some sort of action movie, the SUV careened off-course and slammed into several parked cars. Men began to pour from it, armed to the teeth.

John jumped in beside you and made you kneel in the floorboards, holding his body over yours protectively.

“How’d they find out? Gaz!” John yelled at the driver, shouting his name when he saw another SUV approaching from the side.

Gaz swerved, narrowly missing being rammed, and sped off down the highway, trying to run from his pursuers.

“No idea, mate, but they think it was us who tore up the warf. Banno’s man must’ve turned snitch. Only explanation.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” the masked man sighed, rolling down his window to fire shots at the SUV chasing you down.

“Who’s the bonnie hen, boss?” Soap peered down at you before turning his attention back on the car chase.

“Uh… she’s…” John tried to explain, but you realized that you never even told him your real name, “I dunno.”

“You dinnae ken?” Soap’s brows knitted together.

“Soap! Shut up and shoot, mate,” Gaz turned his attention back on the fight.

“Well,” the masked man grumbled loudly, “She’s stuck with us all the way to Hadrian’s Wall. Heading to Katie’s house. No place else is safe.”

“Aye, good call,” John agreed.

Finally, after leaving the city, your pursuers turned back around and left you to your escape. John helped you back into the seat and checked you for injuries.

“John… I’m…” Your voice shook with fear, and you felt all of that stress tumbling down into your chest, turning into shock and tears.

“Shh, it’s alright, love. I’ve gotcha. I’m… I’m sorry. Should’ve known better.”

“Better?” You whispered as he held you to his chest.

“Aye. Thought I could be a normal man for a night. Hit on the hot bird at the bar, go to a fuckin’ party. But, nothing’s normal right now. I’ve put you in this mess, and I’m sorry.”

You didn’t have a reply, not one that made any sense, and as he held you, you watched the English countryside come into view. Rolling green hills still wet with their dew made everything that had just happened to you seem so far away, but you could smell the gunpowder on his hands as he pet your cheek, and you knew that nothing could be further from the truth.

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spidybaby · 1 year

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Begin Again | Part Three

Summary: Back to the start to fix the broken pieces just to find that you can get what you always dreamed.

Warnings: cursing

A/N: Hello! I want to apologize for the waiting. Most of that was because I got sick (I still am), but here it is. Hope you like it. Love you all 💛✨️

Part one | Part two

April 2027

The moving went smoothly, Elena and Paulo helped you with everything. Your parents didn't like the idea, but you shut them down.

You weren't supposed to start till the end of April, giving you enough time to mind a plan to fix everything.

You saw online that Pedro was on Manchester. Apparently, Manchester City wanted to buy him.

"No sobre pienses tanto lo que haces, estas haciendo lo mejor para ti." (Don't overthink your decision. You're doing what's best for you)

Elena was the voice of reason in this situation.

"No sé ni donde empezar." (I don't even know where to start)

"Escuchame, eres una de las personas más inteligentes que conozco, venga tía, tu puedes con esto, es normal no saber ni donde empezar, pero estoy aquí para ti, para ayudarte en todo." (Listen to me, you're one of the smartest people I've ever known, c'mon dude, you can do it, it's okay not knowing where to start, but I'm here for you to help you with everything)

You hug her, crying a little, she makes you feel less alone.

Your mother stopped talking to you once she found out about the moving, telling you how much of a mistake you were making.

Your dad was siding with her, even when he didn't say you were making a mistake, he did tell you it was a bad decision.

But you didn't care, you pack your stuff and moved back to Barcelona. You even unblock his family from social media and didn't follow them, but unblock them was a start.

"Vamos por un helado." Elena says, drying your tears, "polito, amor mio, vamos!" (Let's go get some ice cream, Polito, my love, let's go)

She was carrying the diaper bag and your son, to say he even had a matching outfit with her.

"Oye, vamos a la playa, quiero una foto con mi bebé. Polito, te pondré tu chamarra de osito." (Let's go to the beach, I want a photo with my baby, Polito, let me put you your bear sweater)

"Tu bebé?" You laugh helping her with the sweater. "Amorcito, tienes nueva mami." (Your baby? Baby, you have a new mommy)

She laughed and made her way to the front door, grabbing your purse on the way out and your phone. You followed her.

"Crees que Pedro haría algo para quedarse con Polo?" You ask once you got to the beach. Your mom words did have an impact, even if you knew he wouldn't. "Yo sé que no, pero me da miedo." (Do you think Pedro would do anything to take Polo away? I know he wouldn't, but I'm scared)

"Y/n, claro que no, por favor saca esas ideas de tu mente, Pedro y tu tuvieron algo tan especial, él jamás haría nada para lastimarte." (Y/n, of course not, please take that idea out of your mind. Pedro and you had something so special, I know he won't do anything to hurt you)

You only nodded, not wanting to overthink those words.

"Mis padres me odian." (My parents hate me)

"No creo, solo están preocupados." (I don't think so, they're just worried)

But worried about what?

"Venga, Dame a mi hijo, vamos a tomarnos fotos." Elena says, throwing the empty ice cream cup in the trash can near you. (Give me my son, let's take some pictures)

"Lo bueno es que tu lo pariste, vieja tonta." (The good thing us that you birth him, dumbass)

Elena dances a little with him, singing a Quevedo song. The song makes you remember Pedro, he loves Quevedo music.

You take the pictures of Polo and Elena and she then takes some of you and him.

"Ay déjame subir esta." (Oh let me post this one)

You see the picture, it was cute.

"Dale."

"La verdad la oferta esta muy buena, para mi que la tomes." Mario, who is Pedro's manager says, "O es que aún piensas en quedarte en el barça?" (I think the offer is really good, I think you should take it. Or are you still thinking about staying?)

Pedro was lost in his thoughts, Manchester was offering him 150 million euros, with full on benefits and even to keep the number 8.

But on the other side, Barça was the club of his life. He couldn't imagine playing for other club.

He played for another season, but due to a mistake in his contract, he could leave for free this summer.

"Creo que debo pensarlo, hablarlo bien con mis padres." (I have to think about it, talk with my parents)

His manager agreed and changed the subject. He was invited to a club, but he rejected it. Fer was not I the mood, and without him, he was not going.

"Vamos de regreso al hotel." (Let's go back to the hotel)

After the arrival, he and his manager went to their rooms. He was sharing one with Fernando.

"Cómo te fue chaval?" (How was it?)

"Mmm. Estuvo bien, es un puto dolor de cabeza pensar en esto, no sé ni que hacer." (It was good, but it's a fucking headache thinking about all of this, I don't even know what to do)

"Venga, vamos al bar del hotel, tomamos algo y hablamos, no te estreses Pedro" (Let's go to the bar of the hotel, let's have some drinks and a talk. Don't stress)

They both made their way to the bar, Fernando was telling him about a gift he bought for his girlfriend.

"Mira que linda foto," Fer says, showing him the picture Elena posts about a baby with a bear sweater. "Quiero un sobrino para vestirlo así." (Look at this beautiful picture, I want a nephew to dress him like that)

Fernando looks at him with funny eyes, Pedro only laughs, "eres un gilipollas, tu deberías darme un sobrino" (you're an asshole, you're supposed to give me a nephew.)

They laughed and forgot about the picture. Asking for drinks and some food to begin the night.

"Alguna vez has pensado en cómo serias cómo padre?" (Have you ever thought about you as a father?) Fernando asks.

That puts him in deep thoughts. He did think about it, even dream with it.

The little baby in your arms with the barça shirt, his number on the back of both yours and the baby's shirt.

"La verdad?" (You want the truth?)

"Macho, no como crees? Dime mentiras." Fer says as he hits him on the back of the head. "Pues claro tonto, por algo pregunté." (Man, not at all, tell me lies. Well, obviously, I want the truth, I asked for a reason.)

"Venga ya que la colleja no era necesaria." He laughs. "Siempre lo imaginé, usualmente era algo que hablamos y/n y yo, ella quería un niño, y hombre no te miento, yo también quería uno, pero luego miraba a nuestro primo con su hija y pensaba en una niña." He says, remembering all the late night talks you two had. (The hit on the head was not necessary, I've always pictured it. It was something y/n and I always talked about. She wants a boy and man, I do want a son too, but after seeing our cousins with his girl, I thought about having a girl)

Fernando looks at the way he talks about it, the shine of his eyes, he haven't seen that shine in months.

"Puedo preguntarte algo, pero no te enojas?" (Can I ask you something without you getting mad?)

"Mhm?"

"Por qué la dejaste ir?" (Why did you let her go?)

Pedro takes his eyes away from his brother. That question was one he asked himself every night since that December night.

"Recuerdas el anillo?" He asks, Fernando nods. "Yo sabía que ella quería que su padre estuviera de acuerdo con el matrimonio, la bendición, así que fui a pedirla, yo quería casarme con ella." (Remember the ring? I knew she wanted his father to be okay with the marriage, the blessing. So I went to ask for it, I wanted yo marry her)

"Pero?" (But?)

"Pero su padre me dijo que no podía darmela, que yo era un chaval con una vida muy distinta a la que el soñaba para el esposo de su hija. Me dijo que pensaba que ella algún día iba a darse cuenta y dejarme, como no lo hizo, solo esperó. Me pidió dejarla, diciendo que ella no quería irse de Barcelona por mi, porque no quería dejarme, diciéndome que sus sueños iban a ser siempre interrumpidos por mi, por mi carrera y me pidió dejarla ir, dejarla emprender su propio camino, brillar por si sola." He says angrily, remembering the words of your father. (But her father couldn't give it to me, I was a kid with a totally different life from the one he pictured his son in law would have. He told me he hoped for her to realize that and left me, but she never did, so he waited. He asked me to leave her, but she didn't want to leave Barcelona because of me, telling me her dreams were going to be interrupted by me because of my career. So he asked me to let her go, for her to shine on her own, to begin her own path in life)

Fernando was in shock. He always thought it was about a fight, maybe even a bad patch on the relationship. Even his parents told him he was making a mistake, but know it makes sense.

"Pedro. Por qué no me habías contado?" (Pedro, why didn't you tell me?)

He shrugs, not facing him. Drinking way too quickly.

"Pedro, por favor mirame."

He did, after a few minutes.

"Lo siento, por haberte criticado, haberte culpado y juzgado mal. No sabía lo que había pasado, ojalá me hubieras contado, para así apoyarte. Lo siento hermanito." He hugs him, the hug was tight, and Pedro needed that. (I'm sorry. For judging you and for blaming you. I didn't know, and I wish you had told me I would have supported you. I'm sorry, hermanito.

Pedro felt relief. The secret he kept to himself was now free from him.

"Has pensado en hablar con ella?" (Have you thought about reaching her?)

He shake his head no.

"La verdad siento que me odia, la hice mierda, la deje y luego ignore sus llamadas, sus mensajes. Me dolió el alma, Fernando. Pero era lo que yo en ese momento creía correcto. (To be honest, I feel that she hates me, I fuck her up, after I dumped her I ignored her calls and texts, that broke my heart, Fernando. But I thought I was doing the right thing)

"Escuchame, tu hiciste lo que en ese momento creíste correcto, no te culpes más, pero creo que es obvio que no la has superado, aún piensas en ella." Fer says, patting his back. "Venga, déjame ayudarte a recuperarla y si no se puede pues ayudarte a superarlo, juntos en todo, como cuando niños." (Listen to me, you did what you thought was the right thing, don't blame yourself anymore. I think it is pretty obvious that you love her. You still think of her. So, let me help you get her back, and if that's not possible, let me help you move on, but together, like when we were kids)

"Te amo, eres el mejor." (I love you, you're the best)

"Yo te amo más, venga que tenemos que pensar en algo." (I love you more, c'mon, we have to plan how you're getting her back)

Pedro smiled, high five his brother, and begins with the plan for that to happen. Like fer said, together.

You were at the supermarket, you needed food for your fridge. Elena stayed with Polo. He was fussy, so you let him stay.

You got almost everything on the list. I'm picking a few fruits. Since Polo is now six months old, the doctor told you to start with some fruit based foods.

You grabbed some sweet potato, some bananas, and some avocados. Also some vegetables like broccoli, carrot, and some more.

You were so focused on picking some apples that when someone touched you to grab your attention you kind of jump.

"Ay Dios," you say, putting your hand on your heart, "Pablo?" You ask seeing him smile, trying not to laugh.

"Sigues siendo la misma tía que se asusta de todo al parecer." (You're still the same scary girl I see).

You laugh, hugging him. It's been a long time without seeing him.

"Cuando volviste?" (When did you came back?)

"Hace poco, a finales de marzo." (Not that long ago, end of March.)

"Y estas aquí para quedarte? O solo de visita?" (Are you staying or only for a visit?)

You smile, "Vine para quedarme" (I'm here to stay)

You talked for a while, and you both continued the shopping.

"Y dime, como vas de amores?" (And tell me, how's the love?)

You shrug, not knowing how to answer.

"Pues, sigo soltera. Los Italianos son muy intensos, te juro. Y tu que tal de amores?" (Well, I'm still single, Italian guys are way too much. What about you?)

"Recuerdas a Carolina?" (Do you remember Carolina?)

"La nena del agua?" (The water girl?)

He nodded, excited. "Hace casi un año estamos saliendo, ya no es la del agua, ahora es entrenadora de los niños en el club" (almost a year ago we been dating, and she's not the water girl anymore, she's a coach for the first starters in the club.)

"Eso está increíble, Pablito." (That's amazing, Pablito)

"Haz vuelto a hablar con Pedro?" (Have you talked to Pedro?)

If Pablo was known for something, it was two things, his anger on the pitch and not having a filter when he speaks.

"No, hace mucho que no hablo con él." (No, it's been a long time without talking to him.)

He nodded, understanding.

"Pero, de hecho he querido hablar con él desde que regresé. No sé si quiera hablarme." (But, I've been looking to talk to him since I came back, but I don't know if he would talk to me)

"Pero vamos, claro que quiere" (c'mon, he obviously wants to)

You smile at his words.

"Deja darte el número, tuvo que cambiarlo porque en un entreno le hicimos mierda el movil" (let me give you his number, he had to change it since once during training we fucked his phone)

"No me sorprende, siempre se hacian mierda las cosas ustedes" (I'm not surprised, you guys always fucked your things)

He grabbed your phone, saving Pedro's number.

"Te he guardando el mio igual, por si alguna vez necesitas algo, acá estoy." (I saved mine too. If you ever need anything, I'm here)

You hugged goodbye as you both went different ways.

You hurry to the line, wanting to get home so you can tell Elena the news.

"Sabes que me encanta de Manchester, el ambiente es diferente a España, no sé cómo describirlo pero es diferente" Fernando says, looking around. (You know what I love about Manchester? The atmosphere is different. I don't know how to explain it, but it's different)

Pedro laughed, agreeing with him. Mario only nodded smiling.

"Bien, entonces dame unos días y te daré la respuesta, si?" (Okay, give me a few days, and I'll have the answer) Pedro says referring to the contract.

"Tomate una semana, meditalo y si tienes dudas podemos hablar, poner un pro y con sobre la mesa." (Take a week, meditate it, and if you have any doubts, call me up, and we can put all the pros and cons at the table to make up your mind)

After that, they changed the topic, talking about a game they were invited to, Fer and Mario were talking about one specific player and how he got a yellow card for something that was a clearly a red.

Pedro's mind was far away from that, seeing the text he got from Pablo.

She was back, and she wanted to talk with him.

He was out of breath, wanted to tell Fernando right away, but he knew better and wait for the night to be over.

As they entered the room, he grabbed his brother's shoulders, shaking him while screaming in happiness.

"Me vas a descalabrar capullo." (You're going to hurt me, idiot)

"Mira," he shows the text message.

Fernando is now screaming with him, happy for the news.

"A ver, calma ya" (okay, let's calm down), Fernando says, taking a few breaths. "Si te quiere ver y Pablo le dio tu número, ella te va a escribir, es obvio." (If she wants to see you and Pablo gave her your number, she'll text you, it's obvious)

And as Fer finished saying that, Pedro's phone lights up with a text from an unknown number.

Pedro checks it and screams, showing it to his brother, who screams with him.

(Hi,

I hope you're doing great. I'm sending you this message to let you know I'm in Barcelona and I'll like to meet up with you to talk.

-Y/n)

"Qué contesto?" Pedro says, full of nerves. (What can I text back?)

"Trae pa ca', tonto," he says, taking the phone from his brothers hand. (Give me that, morron)

(Hi

I like to see you, we can meet wherever, maybe somewhere more calm to avoid paparazzi)

Back in Barcelona, you and Elena are sitting in your couch, face to face.

"Ya contestó," you say excited. (He answered)

"A ver," Elena says, taking the phone from you. "Contesta" (let me see, answer him).

"No sé que poner," you say nervios. (I don't know how to answer)

"Ay, dame aquí, tonta" (give me that, idiot)

("Do you still living I'm the same place." "Yes, do you remember the address, or do you need the location?")

"Crees que recuerde?" Pedro asks, seeing the answer his brother sends. (Do you think she remembers?)

"Callate, déjame ver que responde," Fer says, seeing the three dots. (Shut up, let me answer)

("No, I do remember, what about tomorrow morning?" "I'll be back from Manchester tomorrow at noon. Let's meet at night, if that's okay with you.")

"Cierto que vi que estaba en Manchester," you say as you read the text, "Dile que si" (it's true, he's in Manchester, say yes)

"Calmate," Elena says. (Calm down)

("I'll see you tomorrow at night" "7 pm?" "Yes, " "I'll see you tomorrow. " "Goodbye, Pedro.")

Pedro and Fernando were looking at the last text.

"Niño" Fernando says, screaming and hugging his brother.

Pedro is excited. He was getting you back. No matter how hard, how much he has to fight or work, he's getting you back. He's putting that ring on your finger. He's getting that dream family.

What he didn't know is that on Barcelona, Elena, and you are jumping and screaming on the couch.

"Dios, estoy tan nerviosa." You say as you calm down. "Necesito que me lleves, por favor." (Gosh, I'm so excited. Please, I need you to take me)

"Obvio, tonta." (Obviously, dummy)

You both look and start screaming again, until a cry make you stop.

"Oops," Elena says.

You laugh and go to collect your baby. He was crying due to your screaming, mad because his dreams were interrupted.

"Ya, ya mi amor, ven acá." You say picking him up, calming him. "No sabes, tu papi y yo nos vamos a ver." You say as he calms down. "Y estoy nerviosa, espero mañana puedas conocerlo." (It's okay, love, come here. You have no idea. Daddy and I are meeting up, I'm nervous, and I hope you both can meet up tomorrow)

You kiss him. Taking him with you back to the living room.

"Vente." You say to Elena, "ayúdame a escoger el outfit." (Come, help me pick my outfit)

You feel like a teenager getting ready for her first date.

The butterflies, the nervousness in your system, and the excitement.

Tomorrow, you're getting that family you both dreamed about.

Tag list:

@alwaysclassyeagle @footballerficsposts @gulphulp @cinderellawithashoe @jajajhaahaha @bellinghambby22 @pablogavisgirl @lunamelona @christinabae @fadinglovermuffintaco 💛✨️

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lineasdeval · 1 year

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Tu Cumpleaños

Alejo M, no tengo una idea principal para escribirte está carta, solo tengo el corazón en la mano y muchos recuerdos juntos, discúlpame por mi sentimentalismo en todo y mi fragilidad, aún no logro controlar las ganas inmensas de llorar al sentirme feliz por estar junto a ti otro año más, otro cumpleaños más. Recuerdo que tú primer cumple lo celebramos de manera "virtual" apenas podía pensar en ti y decirte feliz cumpleaños acompañado de un me gustas, poco después logramos celebrar tu cumple en Guatapé y en tu casa, que lindo cumpleaños me hace recordar etapas de cuando nos estabamos enamorando; Luego, celebramos con tu mamá en un lindo restaurante contigo y hoy todo ha cambiado, ahora estamos celebrando tu cumple los dos solitos.

Quiero decirte que no hay día en que piense en lo afortunada que soy, cada día que te veo pienso en lo grande que es el cielo para mandarte a mi vida, tú eres el cumpleañero pero le das vida a todos, sostienes a cada uno desde el amor, a mí me sostienes la vida entera flaco y no hay amor que pueda compararse con el tuyo, a veces no sé quién le dió vida a quien, pero quiero que sepas que desde tu presencia el mi vida cada día me da más ganas de vivir para llegar y decirte todo lo que pasó en un día, porque al final lo único que tenemos es el uno al otro y ese amor infinito que cada día nos damos . Gracias a todos los eventos que tuvieron que pasar para que tú estuvieras aquí, regalando vida y amor. Dios seguramente te mando con un propósito amor y cada año te regala más oportunidades para alcanzarlo.

En este nuevo año de vida (23) en el 2023 todo estará lleno de éxitos para ti, porque no conozco un hombre con tanta determinación y carácter como el tuyo, cada día quiero recordarte que vales la pena y la vida y que yo te sabré cuidar y amar por toda la eternidad si me lo permites, que estaré sin importar que, porque un hombre tan valioso como tú vale la vida. Eres maravilloso novio y por eso cada día reafirmó que tu bondad y amor es infinito, que eres justo y además muy inteligente para todo.

Sé que es pretencioso lo que voy a decir, pero yo soy tu pequeñita familia y tú hogar, y que en mi corazón siempre estás tu habitando desde el ser y el amor, que soy tu compañera en esta vida y espero que siempre esté en cada cumpleaños, feliz de coincidir en el mismo tiempo de tu existencia.

Te amo hasta el cielo, te amo hasta siempre Alejo M y un muy feliz cumpleaños amor de cada una de mis vidas: terrenal, astral y amorosa.

#amor #citas de amor #mi novio #tu #te amo #nosotros #conversaciones #escritos #novios #el mejor novio #feliz cumpleaños #amistad

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bitacoradeunadialover · 9 months

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Headcanons random sobre los Diaboys

Headcanons personales que son basura pero que de todos modos me encantan y están atorados en mi cabeza lol

• Ayato no tiene idea de cómo usar un microondas o cualquier cosa relacionada con la cocina. Una vez había ordenado comida rápida. Como ésta llegó fría, quiso calentarla en el microondas. ¿Error? Lo dejó en el mismo recipiente de plástico en el que lo había recibido. Poco después la cocina estaba en llamas.

De más está decir que Reiji casi pierde la cabeza, y que cierto pelirrojo se quedó sin su mesada por largo tiempo.

• Laito quedaría impresionado por una chica que no le teme a los insectos. Por ejemplo, si puedes matar una araña o una cucaracha sin miedo, automáticamente comentará algo como "Cásate conmigo, Bitch-chan", sin dudarlo.

Esto no significa que él te ame ni mucho menos, pero seguro que está un poco muy impresionado por tu trasero valiente.

• Shu es completo ignorante sobre todo lo tecnológico, únicamente se limita a saber lo básico: cómo comprar en línea, cómo enviar mensajes y hacer llamadas con un teléfono celular y un par de cosas más.

¿Ese feo y viejo mp3? Lo usa porque dice que es más "práctico" que las aplicaciones que tienen los smartphones.

A menudo se queja en voz alta como el anciano que es sobre cómo los dispositivos electrónicos, a pesar de ser considerados “inteligentes”, resultan innecesariamente complicados de usar.

• Subaru suele escaparse de la mansión para ayudar en un refugio de animales cercano como voluntario. Nadie lo sabe y espera que así continúe.

• Reiji es un imbécil competitivo cuando se trata de la escuela. Incluso si es un vampiro Sangre Pura con más de doscientos años encima, no puede evitar desear tener las mejores calificaciones de la academia.

En una ocasión su calificación fue de 90 sobre 100 y casi se desmaya de la vergüenza.

Quemó ese maldito examen para que nadie lo supiera.

• Subaru fue detenido varias veces por destrucción de propiedad pública y privada (y por disturbios y peleas callejeras).

• A Kanato le gusta ir a jugueterías para ver peluches y muñecas lindas. Puede literalmente gastar toda su mesada en cosas de Sylvanian families.

• Alguna que otra vez Shu se plantea qué nombre le pondría a sus hijos si es que decide tenerlos (y sí, siempre se refiere al asunto en plural, como si pretendiera tener más de uno). Se ha puesto de acuerdo consigo mismo en que elegiría los nombres de sus compositores de música clásica o pintores y escritores favoritos.

• Shin mataría a cualquier imbécil que siquiera pretenda lastimar a un perro, ya fuera callejero o que tenga un dueño irresponsable o maltratador. Ni hablar de alguien que pretenda cazar a un lobo a uno de sus familiares.

• Por su parte, Subaru mataría a cualquiera que pretendiera dañar a un animal. ¿Hay un grupo de niños queriendo lastimar a un pajarito con una resortera? Les aseguro que los asustará tanto que jamás se les cruzará la idea de nuevo.

Y es que Subaru, incluso si es demasiado tsundere como para admitirlo en voz alta, siente que los animales son los seres más puros sobre esta tierra y realmente se siente querido por ellos. Como si fueran los únicos seres capaces de ver algo bueno en él. Bebé lo amo.

• Entre los 90's y los 2000 Ayato quiso ser un cantante de rock pop. Después decidió que no era lo suyo, que quería ser basquetbolista profesional. Sus hermanos suelen burlarse de eso cuando Ayato se vuelve muy molesto y Laito tiene fotos de su look en ese momento sólo para fastidiarlo.

• Los 50's fueron los años y la época favorita de Laito.

Esto es todo por ahora, bye bye

#diabolik lovers #shu sakamaki #laito sakamaki #ayato sakamaki #reiji sakamaki #kanato sakamaki #subaru sakamaki #shin tsukinami #diahell #otome game #diabolik lovers headcanons #dialover

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neuroconflictos · 4 months

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«Estar dispuesto a cambiar es de personas inteligentes.

El inconsciente gobierna nuestra vida, y el inconsciente está formado por nuestras creencias, muchas de las cuales son falsas aunque las demos por ciertas. Tener una actitud de apertura ante todo y todos nos sitúa en mejores condiciones para seguir creciendo. Como ya dijese Keynes, «lo más difícil del mundo no es que la gente acepte nuevas ideas, sino que olvide las antiguas»; algo parecido a lo que pensaba Goethe: «Ten cuidado con lo que aprendes porque no podrás olvidarlo». Estar abiertos al «desaprendizaje» es absolutamente imprescindible para que el verdadero aprendizaje tenga lugar. Muchas veces, lo que pensamos que conocemos es lo que realmente nos impide aprender».

Bertrand Arthur William Russell 1872-1970

Matemático, filósofo, escritor

#filosofo #lectura #escritor #reflexiones #BertrandRussell

#escritos #citas #frases #notas #pensamientos #textos #escrituras #neuroconflictos #junio 2024 #lacandamia

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camicazyoaks · 4 months

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SUPER TARDE, PERO, lo importante es que lo hice ☝️uwu

CEATD WEEK

08 DE MAYO

DIA 1: MODERNIDAD/ACTUALIDAD

(Algunos diálogos de la discusión están inspirados en la película de: "Beautifoul Boy" y "CEATD", algunos no tan exactos, pero cachan la idea XD)

P.O.V. NARRADOR

Una explosión se había escuchado proveniente del laboratorio de química, no había más que humo cubriendo los rostros de los alumnos que ahí se encontraban, los extinguidores se prendieron empapando a toda aquella alma que estuviera bajo uno tanto dentro como fuera del laboratorio, específicamente, en pasillos y salones cercanos. Aquellos que se encontraban en los alrededores de la escena suspiraron con frustración y cansancio, pues (por la reputación que tenía en la escuela) no les era difícil conocer la identidad del causante de dicha explosión.

Por otro lado, los estudiantes que se encontraban dentro del laboratorio, salieron tosiendo y carraspeando producto del humo que había inundado por completo el lugar mientras el profesor abría las ventanas para que se disipara por completo, que, gracias a los rociadores, ya no era mucho.

“Bien hecho hipo”, “Nuevamente metiste la pata, no puede ser”, “¿Otra vez este tipo? ¿Qué le sucede?”, “Es hipo ¿Qué esperabas?” podía oírse decir a los compañeros de clase del chico mientras abandonaban el salón.

Hipo, fue el último en salir, empapado, avergonzado y confundido, tenía la cabeza gacha mientras salía y pensaba ¿que había salido mal? Tomo el material adecuado y siguió todos los pasos del experimento al pie de la letra.

Una leve risa proveniente del fondo de la multitud de compañeros del salón de hipo que ahora se encontraban fuera del sitio de la explosión se escuchó, provocando que la mirada del ojiverde se enfocase en ese punto en específico, era patán, quien hablaba y burlaba junto con los gemelos en voz baja (salvo por la risa que patán soltó en voz alta con toda la intención de que hipo le escuchase). Cuando la mirada de hipo se cruzó con la de él, una sonrisa burlona se pudo observar en el rostro del pelinegro hacia hipo.

Claro… no sabía ¿por qué se lo preguntaba? probablemente patán había sido el culpable de la explosión (cosa que no estaba lejos de la verdad) pues, mientras hipo regresaba al almacén por el resto de sus materiales, patán le cambio el ingrediente principal del experimento por otro similar en apariencia, pero con una composición diferente al que se debería usar. Los gemelos eran brillantes en química y súper FANS de loky (el dios de las artimañas) eran el TERROR de la escuela en “El día de los inocentes” y cualquier broma que quisieras hacer, era SUPER SEGURO que los gemelos estarían dispuestos a ayudarte si decidías unirte a ellos (y claro, era mejor estar con ellos que en su contra, pues, muchos preferían trabajar con ellos que ser víctimas de sus bromas) así que, al escuchar la broma propuesta por patán, lo ayudaron. No le fue difícil de intuir a hipo, pues, patán no era un tipo demasiado inteligente y por sí mismo hubiese fracasado o peor aún, provocar un accidente grave.

- Hay momentos en que lo miro, este niño que crie, que pensé que conocía por dentro y por fuera y me pregunto ¿quién es? – dijo estoico, quien se encontraba en su oficina charlando con bocón, que era no solo su mano derecha, sino también el profesor de deportes de la escuela.

- No puedes frenarlo estoico, solo puedes prepararlo, sé que no le tienes mucha fe, pero la verdad es que no estarás siempre para protegerlo, un día tendrás que dejarlo salir, dejar que sea el mismo, por más desastroso que puedas considerarlo… - respondió bocón haciendo una leve pausa – yo creo que el que tú y los demás tengan altas expectativas de él hace que hipo cometa errores en un intento de poder encajar

- ¿Crees que estoy siendo muy duro con él? – bocón iba a responderle, pero la platica fue interrumpida por una llamada de la maestra de química a estoico (pues era el director de la escuela) informando del incidente. Estoico suspiro y llevo una de sus manos al tabique de su nariz – bien, hablare con el ¿puedes decirle que venga a mi oficina por favor?... gracias – colgó – hipo hizo estallar el laboratorio de química.

- Bueno, hay que reconocerle un poco, no había hecho nada en una semana.

Hipo llego después de un rato y antes de entrar, suspiro, no dijo absolutamente nada, solo dejo que su padre hablara, sabía que le echarían la culpa y dijera lo que dijera, no le creería, usualmente era así.

- ¿Y bien? ¿no vas a decir nada? – dijo estoico, imponente desde su escritorio.

- ¿Qué quieres que diga? – respondió hipo aun parado en el marco de la puerta con la mirada en el piso y el ceño levemente fruncido.

- Ven, toma asiento, dime ¿Qué sucedió? – hipo le miro confundido por el tono que su padre empleaba, se notaba claramente un poco más abierto al dialogo, incluso comprensivo, aunque con algo de molestia o cansancio en su voz por ser algo ya “usual”. Posterior a eso, miro a bocón, preguntándole con la mirada si su padre estaba bien y el mayor solo asintió, dándole la señal de que podía hablar. Hipo acato la orden y tras cerrar la puerta se sentó frente a su padre y junto a bocón del otro lado del escritorio.

- Es que… no lo sé, es decir, yo seguí todos los pasos del experimento al pie de la letra, tenía los ingredientes adecuados… o eso creía, tengo la sospecha de que patán pudo haber cambiado algo con ayuda de los gemelos.

- ¿Tienes alguna prueba de eso hijo? – hipo suspiro y negó con la cabeza – ¿cómo llegaste a esa conclusión?

- Ellos… se reían.

- ¿Se reían…? - repitió la respuesta del chico – hipo… esa no es prueba suficiente para culpar a alguien… ah ¿Por qué no simplemente admites que te equivocaste?, quizá te distrajiste en algún momento y lo entiendo, los accidentes pueden llegar a ocurrir, pero no puedes culpar a alguien solo por reírse

- si ya decidiste que yo soy el culpable entonces ¿Por qué tenemos esta conversación?, solo ponme mi castigo y terminemos con esto.

- No, no es… - estoico suspiro – hipo, antes éramos unidos, éramos más unidos que la mayoría de padres e hijos, no éramos así…

- ¿Sí? Entonces dime, ¿Por qué siento que estas decepcionado de mí porque no puedo encajar o ser como quisieras?

- NO PUEDES CULPARME, hace poco estabas leyendo y… escribiendo y… estabas intentando ser un poco más normal… menos desastroso Y MIRANOS AHORA, esto no es lo que somos… - estoico se levantó de la silla

- ¿Más normal?... – dijo hipo casi incrédulo mientras, al igual que estoico, se levantaba de su asiento. Sabía que su padre estaba decepcionado de él, pero no pensó que lo creyera algo anormal, ¿dolió? No lo sabía, quizá en el fondo si tenía una vaga idea de lo que su padre pensaba de él, pero escucharlo era muy extraño

- ¡No éramos así! – repitió al mismo tiempo que hipo pregunto.

- Estoico, los dos, ya basta – intervino bocón mientras hipo y estoico se veían de manera un poco restante.

- Tu castigo será un día de suspensión – comento estoico después de un rato – considerando que fue un accidente

- Bien – concluyo hipo para después retirarse del lugar.

Estoico suspiro y se sentó nuevamente mientras bocón los miraba con algo de tristeza. Hipo salió de la escuela algo molesto y estoico lo pudo observar por la gran ventana que se encontraba en su oficina. Camino a casa un pequeño gato de color negro de ojos verdes se enredó en sus pies con un ligero ronroneo que demostraba lo alegre que estaba por verlo de nuevo.

- ¿chimuelo?, ¡amigo hola! – el chico se puso feliz al verle y lo cargo, el pequeño gato trepo sus hombros y se quedó ahí – me alegra verte y creo que, a estas alturas, uno de los pocos seres vivos que me alegro de ver.

#hiccup #hiccup haddock #how to train your dragon #httyd rtte #httyd hiccup #httyd books #fanart #dibujante #dibujo digital #dibujo #escritos #escrituras

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blancdansnoir · 21 days

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"How do you do what you do to me? I wish I knew If I knew how you do it to me, I'd do it to you How do you do what you do to me? I'm feelin' blue Wish I knew how you do it to me but I haven't a clue You give me a feeling in my heart Like an arrow passing through it Spose that you think you're very smart But won't you tell me how do you do it?"

"¿Cómo haces lo que me haces? Ojalá supiera Si supiera cómo lo haces, te lo haría a ti How do you do what you do to me? Me siento triste Ojalá supiera cómo lo haces, pero no tengo idea Me das una sensación en el corazón Como una flecha atravesándolo Supongo que piensas que eres muy inteligente Pero, ¿no me dirás cómo lo haces?"

youtube

#mafin #marta de la reina #marta belmonte #sueños de libertad #gerry and the peacemakers #how do you do it marta you got me crazy #look at her smile

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beaudngz · 10 months

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¿máscara juroku no era aterradora? ¿o colores pasteles de kimono le eclipsan? elecciones de sire una vez más lo encaminan al centro de la atención, sólo que quizás para pésima suerte del vástago, adolescentes han impedido que explorase las tiendas de souvenirs. tercera o cuarta, no se molestó en contar, regala golosina en señal de adiós. mala idea de beau despojarse de accesorio que cubría rostro, tropezando a mitad del camino con acalorada discusión de enamorados y silueta más o menos borrosa ( ¿asqueada? ) de semejante espectáculo. ' ¿llevas un gran rato aquí? ' inteligente en evadir a los tontos jóvenes, estrechando ojitos para distinguirle. ' disculpa, olvidé mis lentes y me cuesta reconocer rostros a la distancia. '

#no cuento nada #pueden responder o no #no importa #feliz ombligo de la semana #este dude es casi ciego sin sus lentes

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alquimistaliteraria · 5 months

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Destinadas a encontrarse pero no a estar juntas.

[¿Por el momento?]

-Carta abierta-

Siento que llegaste a mi vida para recordarme que existen personas maravillosas como tú ahí afuera. Eres como una ventana desde la cual aprecio un lindo paisaje, un bello mundo que se despliega ante mí, recordándome que todo eso también podría estar disponible para mí. Me brindaste el trato amable, cuidadoso, cariñoso y pasional que merezco, y por eso, te estoy profundamente agradecida.

En lo personal, me ayudaste a dar ese cierre que me faltaba con mi ex, algo que necesitaba para seguir adelante. Practiqué contigo el arte de escucharme y mantener mis límites, a pesar de los sentimientos que surgen inevitablemente. Aunque había una semilla de afecto creciendo hacia ti que podría llevarme a enamorarme, entendí que debía ser inteligente y firme respecto a lo que quiero en este momento: no deseo una relación a distancia. Busco la cercanía, el calor de conocer a alguien en persona y enamorarme en ese espacio tangible.

No podría soportar el extrañar a alguien con quien he conectado tanto y estoy sintiendo de nuevo amor. No puedo permitirme caer en eso nuevamente; debía detenerme antes de que fuera demasiado tarde. Además, en este momento tú estás viviendo un proceso y enfoque particular, mientras que yo tengo varias metas personales que quiero alcanzar y vivir profundamente. Las circunstancias y nuestros intereses son motivos que me restringen.

Si en el futuro decidimos reunirnos y conocernos en persona, créeme que estaría muy dispuesta. Pero en este momento, mi intuición me dice que lo correcto para mí es hacerlo así. Debo cuidarme; la cicatriz de mi pasado está aún sensible. Por experiencia, sé que entre poetas, el enamoramiento puede ser una experiencia muy intensa. Me conozco: podría ser impulsiva y arriesgarme, pero necesito ser prudente, tanto para cuidarme como para cuidarte. Prometí ocuparme de ciertas cosas en mí antes de compartir mi ser con seguridad, y esos son algunos de los motivos detrás de esta decisión. Hay otro aspecto que me pone vulnerable y prefiero reservarlo para mí en este momento.

No tienes idea de cuánto me costó tomar esta decisión. Una parte de mí se aferra y solo quiere ir hacia ti, pero al final, esa parte cedió. Han pasado días y extraño nuestro chat diario, tus audios de buenos días, esos momentos en los que me cuentas de tu día. Echo de menos tu voz, tan energética y dulce, las videollamadas y sentir tu compañía, aunque sea a través de una pantalla. Realmente extraño esa sonrisa mágica y esos ojos esmeralda que hipnotizan.

Sabía que ser firme con mi decisión significaría decir adiós a ciertas cosas que me brindabas. Intenté ser tu amiga, pero tengo otro interés contigo, y los sentimientos surgen al convivir, por lo que debía detenerlo. Días como estos, te pienso y te recuerdo con cariño, bonita🌻.

Con afecto y gratitud, by Yls.

#notas #cosas que escribo #pensamientos #sentimientos #escritos del alma #frases #amor #destino #escritos #Spotify #wlw #by yls #alquimista literaria #carta abierta

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analisword · 7 months

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high infidelity (Enzo Vogrincic x Fem Reader)

Capítulo 10:

—Hemos llegado—anunció el taxista.

Alana se sobresaltó al escuchar la voz del hombre, estuvo todo el camino absorta en sus pensamientos que no había estado prestando atención del recorrido, se limpió las lágrimas rápidamente y agradeció que la ciudad estuviera a oscuras como para que el pobre hombre pudiera notar que ella había estado llorando desde que se subió al auto, había una tonelada de emociones en ella: la nostalgia de estar cumpliendo años lejos de su familia y amigas, la discusión que había tenido con Enzo el día anterior y claro, la cereza del pastel, Sebastián olvidando su cumpleaños.

—Eh, aquí no es—respondió Alana mientras entrecerraba los ojos para poder tener una mejor visión desde la ventana, no se encontraba muy lejos del departamento de Enzo, reconocía esa avenida, pero definitivamente no estaba frente al edificio como había planeado.

—Es la dirección que puso en la aplicación—dijo el señor, Alana sacó su celular y abrió la aplicación, efectivamente, había colado el pin del destino en el lugar incorrecto del mapa, había salido tan apresurada del departamento y había tenido tantas cosas en mente que no se había asegurado de colocar la dirección del departamento correctamente, soltó un suspiro de desesperación, todo en ese día estaba saliendo cada vez peor.

—Mierda—maldijo para sí misma—. Puse la dirección mal, el lugar al que voy está a unos 15 minutos de aquí—dijo.

—La puedo llevar si gusta, pero serían unos 5 euros más.

—¿5 euros?—exclamó sorprendida—. Son menos de 2 km—dijo casi ofendida.

—La tarifa es más cara durante la noche—dijo el hombre con tono de obviedad viéndola por el espejo retrovisor.

—Vale, aquí tiene—dijo ella dándose por vencida y entregándole los 5 euros que faltaban de la cuota.

—Eh…le faltarían los otros 15 de este viaje.

—¿Cómo qué otros 15?—preguntó ella confundida—. La cuota de este viaje ya la pagué desde la aplicación.

—Señorita, puso que iba a pagar en efectivo—respondió el señor.

Alana volvió a ver su celular, tampoco había pagado el viaje con tarjeta como había creído.

Era una idiota.

Esto era culpa de Enzo por siempre pedir los taxis por ella.

—Mire, déjeme aquí—dijo ella—. Y aquí tiene lo del viaje—le entregó el resto del dinero, aunque quisiera, no podía tomar otro viaje hasta la casa de Enzo, pues ya no tenía suficiente efectivo.

—Buenas noches—dijo el taxista de mala gana, probablemente por el lío que Alana acababa de hacerle pasar.

—Buenas noches—salió el auto.

Caminó rápidamente hacia la dirección del departamento, por suerte se sabía el camino de memoria, apenas dio unos cuantos pasos más volvió a llorar, al menos podría hacerlo tranquilamente hasta que llegara al edificio de Enzo.

Pero claro, porque el universo la odiaba en su jodido cumpleaños, una gota cayó sobre su cara y comenzó a llover.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

Enzo no tenía idea de cuánto tiempo había estado viendo la pantalla de su celular fijamente.

Tal vez sí tenía idea, pero se encontraba demasiado avergonzado como para admitirlo.

¿Había sido demasiado la manera en la que había felicitado a Alana? No había dicho nada que no sintiera, en verdad apreciaba a la chica, más que eso, la quería.

Era imposible no hacerlo, no cuando era tan inteligente, carismática y divertida, no incluso cuando estaba de malas lograba continuar siendo graciosa, no cuando se movía con una elegancia y con un precioso descuido que sólo ella tenía, no cuando lo había besado y tocado de aquella forma la noche anterior.

Una llama de esperanza se había incendiado en él cuando notó que ella claramente se había puesto celosa de Lucía, esa llama había crecido aún más cuando se atrevió a besarlo, pero todo se apagó cuando ella le recordó que seguía siendo novia de Sebastián y se fue del set de grabación después de decirle que no lo haría, se sentía patético, Enzo siempre había sentido desagrado hacia las personas que eran infieles, no veía el sentido de engañar a una persona, no encontraba la lógica de seguir con alguien cuando querías estar con alguien más y si hace 4 meses le hubieran dicho que él sería partícipe de una infidelidad, pensaría que eso sería una vil mentira.

Pero esta ocasión todo era diferente, se encontraba en una situación jodidamente difícil, le gustaba Alana más de lo que creía, no sólo era su belleza y que siempre había estado enamorado de su forma de escribir, eran las noches que pasaban juntos, conversando durante horas, era la forma en la que lo miraba con sus enormes ojos color miel y la forma en la que lo había besado, como si se encontrara desesperada de tenerlo cerca, justo como él se sentía con respecto a ella, era la conexión que ambos compartían, una que Enzo nunca había experimentado con alguien más, eran tan diferentes y similares al mismo tiempo.

Alana no había respondido su mensaje de felicitación, había escrito durante unos segundos para después no terminar de envíar nada.

Enzo en verdad sentía de la manera en la que le había hablado en el set, pero no se arrepentía de las cosas que le había dicho, ambos sabían que eran ciertas, ambos sabían que Alana no era feliz con Sebastián, pero Enzo era conciente que desgraciadamente, Alana era la única que tenía el derecho de decidir permanecer con el idiota de su novio o irse.

Lanzó el celular al lado de la cama, tenía que dejar de sobrepensar tanto, lo único que quería es que Alana fuera honesta con él, si decía permanecer con Sebastián, por más que eso le doliera a él, no le reprocharía, sólo esperaba que al menos siguieran siendo amigos, que al menos ella se sintiera cómoda de seguir escribiendo en su departamento, lo único que le importaba era la felicidad de ella, incluso si eso significaba sacrificar la suya.

Quería que las cosas volvieran a la normalidad, quería regresar a casa del trabajo y encontrar a Alana escribiendo hasta que sus dedos estuvieran entumecidos, él se los masajearía y después cenarían hasta hartarse, si se encontraban aburridos verían alguna película o simplemente pasarían horas echados en el suelo.

Se preguntaba dónde se encontraba ella en estos momentos, probablemente cenando en un lujoso restaurante con Sebastián, quizá en alguna fiesta que la editorial le había organizado o haciendo videollamada con sus padres.

Se dio una, dos y hasta tres vueltas en la cama, no tenía sueño, pero no encontraba otra cosa más interesante por hacer más que dormir, apenas cerró los ojos, escuchó unos golpes firmes en la puerta principal.

De un brinco se paró de la cama y se colocó la primera camisa que vio, no sabía quién pudiera estar llamando en su departamento tan noche, pensó que probablemente algún vecino necesitaba ayuda con alguna tontería.

—Ya voy—gritó caminando hacia la puerta, se pasó la mano por el pelo para estar aunque sea un poco presentable y la abrió.

Alana estaba ahí, empapada de pies a cabeza y con los ojos inyectados de sangre, seguramente de tanto llorar, pues justo ahora lo estaba haciendo.

—Lana—susurró ante la imagen, no sabía qué hacer primero, si felicitarla por su cumpleaños o preguntarle qué mierda había ocurrido, sintió una enorme preocupación y cuando estuvo apunto de decir algo, ella se le lanzó a los brazos rodeando su cuello con sus largos brazos y llorando sobre el—. Chiquita—susurró abrazándola sin importarle que lo estuviera empapando también.

La sostuvo entre sus brazos tan fuerte como pudo, estaba helada producto a la lluvia torrencial que se escuchaba desde fuera.

—Vení, te me vas a resfriar—le susurró despegándose de ella y tomando su mano, la adentró al departamento y sintió su corazón caer a sus pies cuando volvió a observarla.

Por más que intentaba quitarse las lágrimas del rostro estas no dejaban de caer, temblaba de frío y se abrazaba a sí misma al no sentir el calor de Enzo.

—Tenés que bañarte o te vas a enfermar—le dijo tomando su rostro, ella negó con la cabeza—. Tenés que hacerlo, ahora te presto algo seco y te preparo algo ¿te gusta la idea? ¿tenés hambre? ¿sed?

Alana no respondió y se limitó a volver a abrazarlo, Enzo sintió las comisuras de sus labios caer, sentía una pena profunda, deseó nunca haberse enterado que la tristeza de Alana era tan contagiosa como su felicidad.

—Por favor—le dijo, no dejó que ella respondiera y simplemente la encaminó hasta el baño de su habitación, la usual mirada curiosa de la chica ahora se encontraba puesta fijamente sobre él, como si tuviera miedo perderlo de vista, Enzo abrió la llave de la tina, esperó que se llenara y que el agua estuviera caliente, rebuscó en su cajón de pijamas y sacó ropa seca para ella.

—Tomáte el tiempo que quieras—le dejó un beso en la frente y salió del baño dándole privacidad.

Estaba dando todo de sí para no quebrarse frente a ella, no podía hacerlo, siempre se había sentido incómodo cuando la gente lloraba frente a él y no se consideraba para nada bueno consolando a las personas, pero quería hacer lo posible para traerle algo de alivio a ella.

Se encontraba actuando casi de modo piloto sacando ingredientes y ollas lo más rápido posible, no dejaba de preguntarse qué había sucedido para que Alana terminara así en su maldito cumpleaños, empujó la idea de Sebastián siendo el culpable porque una rabia profunda lo invadió.

Miró los pancakes que preparó en menos de 15 minutos con disgusto, estaban bastante delgados, lucían algo quemados de las orillas y crudos por dentro, si hubiera sabido que Alana iría a verlo en su cumpleaños le hubiera comprado un jodido pastel, por un momento pensó en salir a comprar uno a la panadería de la esquina, pero el lugar seguramente ya se encontraba cerrado y aunque no lo estuviera, no pensaba dejar a Alana sola.

—¿Qué es eso?—preguntó tímidamente aquella dulce voz que tan loco lo volvía, se giró sobre sus talones, Alana estaba recién bañada parada en la cocina, el suéter que le había prestado le llegaba casi hasta las rodillas y los pantalones de pijama tenían un montón de dobladillos para que no se arrastraran sobre el suelo.

Jamás había lucido así de sexy antes.

—Eh…pancakes—respondió—. Creo—Alana soltó una pequeña risa al escucharlo y él sintió que su estómago se volteaba de felicidad al saber que al menos había provocado que ella riera un poco.

—¿Queŕes hablar al respecto?—preguntó acercándose a ella, sabía la respuesta de antemano, pero aún así quería asegurarse de no ponerse a cantar las mañanitas en un momento inadecuado.

—No—respondió, como era de esperarse—. Más tarde—dijo apretando los labios, él asintió y la rodeó con sus brazos.

—Feliz cumpleaños, Lanita—susurró—. Te quiero un montón, en verdad.

Escuchó otro sollozo por lo cual la abrazó más fuerte.

—Ya son casi las 12—dijo ella tristemente.

—Aún quedan como 15 minutos de tu cumple, hay que aprovecharlos.

Se separó de ella y le indicó que se sentara en la silla de la mesa de la cocina con los pancakes frente a ella, ella los miró como la cosa más preciosa del universo cuando claramente eran una tremenda aberración culinaria.

—De haber sabido que vendrías te hubiera conseguido un pastel apropiado, me sorprende que haya tenido harina para prepararlos—dijo él con tono apenado.

—Son perfectos—respondió ella con la voz llena de amor.

—No tengo vela de cumpleaños—advirtió Enzo sacando un fósforo y perforando el pancake que se encontraba en el superior de la pila.

—No tienes que cantarme o algo así—dijo Alana riendo.

—No pensaba hacerlo, soy malísimo—respondió él—. Pero al menos tenés que pedir un deseo.

Alana sonrió tristemente, cerró los ojos y sopló el cerillo.

—Gracias por todo, en serio.

—No tenés nada que agradecer, vení a la sala para darte tu regalo.

Alana lo siguió no sin antes llevarse el plato de pancakes con un tenedor, se sentó en su típico espacio del suelo, Enzo le entregó la caja de regalo y se sentó frente a ella.

—Pensaba dártelo hasta el lunes, pero ya que estás aquí.

Alana sonrió ampliamente y abrió caja en menos de cinco segundos.

—¿Te gusta?—preguntó él nerviosamente—. Me parece un poco raro darte libros siendo que sos escritora, pero…

—¡Es el mejor regalo del mundo!—exclamó ella lanzándose a sus brazos nuevamente, Enzo no podría estar más feliz de cuantas veces se habían abrazado en la hora que Alana llevaba en el lugar—. ¿Cómo sabías que quería estos tres?—preguntó ella viendo las cubiertas de los libros completamente embellecida, para ser alguien que se la vivía entre libros y hasta los creaba, ahora mismo los veía como si nunca hubiera visto unos en toda su vida.

—Revisé tu lista de deseos en Amazón—carraspeó, esperando no sonar como un psicópata, por suerte Alana lo miró con adoración.

—Alana—murmuró Enzo una vez que vio que Alana volvió a guardar los libros cuidadosamente en la caja—. Lamento lo de ayer, tal vez no usé las palabras correctas, estaba cabreado por…

—Sólo decías la verdad—respondió Alana tristemente—. Tengo que terminar con Sebastián, no lo he hecho por el miedo a estar acá sola y cosas superficiales, pero está claro que somos buenos el uno para el otro.

Enzo tragó saliva en seco al escucharla, había tristeza en su voz ante la declaración, era de esperarse, llevaban años de novios y se notaba que Alana le tenía un gran aprecio al chico, a pesar de que era un completo idiota.

—Se olvidó de mi cumpleaños—dijo, Enzo apretó la mandíbula, pensaba que Sebastián no podía ser más estúpido, pero se equivocaba, ¿cómo podía olvidar el cumpleaños de su novia de hace años?—. Claro que no esperaba un regalo costoso o una celebración, pero no sé, al menos una felicitación, ¿sabes?

—Alana, vos merecés ser celebrada cada día de tu existencia, ¿me escuchás?—dijo él tomándola de las manos.

—Te quiero—dijo ella.

Enzo no resistió más e hizo lo que estaba pensando durante toda la noche, tomó su rostro entre sus manos y la besó.

Sus labios sabían y se sentían justo como los recordaba, suaves y dulces, pero desesperados y firmes al mismo tiempo, olvidó por completo lo que había sucedido en las últimas horas y se centró en sentir el cuerpo de Alana junto al de él.

Jadeó cuando dejó ella rompió el beso, pero de pronto sintió sus labios recorriendo su cuello, él se mordió la lengua al sentirla por primera vez ahí, dejó que la chica hiciera su trabajo por un buen tiempo hasta que no resistió más y la recostó suavemente sobre la alfombra con él encima de ella.

—Sos la persona más maravillosa que existe—dijo, no le importaba el tiempo que llevaban conociéndose o la situación sentimental de ella, lo único que le importaba es que la quería y haría lo que fuera por tenerla entre sus labios, Alana respondió volviendo a besarlo fuertemente, lo único que se escuchaban eran sus lenguas chocando y los jadeos que soltaban de vez en cuando, adoraba que ninguno tenía miedo de admitir lo mucho que sentían ante el toque del otro, así fuera una simple caricia.

Enzo metió las manos por debajo del suéter encontrándose con la tersa piel de Alana, trazó las líneas de su cintura y sin poder evitarlo comenzó a moverse sobre ella, ambos gimieron fuertemente al sentir sus proximidades rozando con la ropa puesta.

Las piernas de Alana le rodearon la cintura provocando que estuvieran aún más juntos, Enzo hundió su cara en el cuello de ella, olía a su propio jabón por haberse duchado en su baño, pero aún así podía percibir toques de ese auténtico olor a lavanda que tanto le encantaba.

Enzo no creía poder más, o paraban ahora o terminaría pasando lo predecible, la necesitaba sentir rodeándolo cuanto antes, la chica pareció leer sus pensamiento porque se detuvo en seco y lo apartó suavemente.

—En verdad quiero esto—dijo como pudo intentando recuperar la respiración, Enzo sintió cientos de fuegos artificiales en su abdomen al escucharla y decidió acariciar su cabello, el cual seguía bastante húmero—. Pero quiero hacer esto bien.

—Ehh, lo estás haciendo bastante bien—exclamó él burlonamente bajando su mirada hacia su propio short, el cual delataba lo mucho que estaba disfrutando del momento.

—Idiota—respondió Alana con el mismo tono y le dio un ligero golpe en el brazo.

—Sé a lo que te referis—dijo él inclinando la cabeza, sin dejar de observarla como ya lo estaba haciendo—. Todo a tu tiempo, bonita.

—Mañana mismo romperé con él—dijo ella firmemente, Enzo asintió haciendo lo posible por mantener la compostura y no ponerse a brincar de la felicidad—. Después de eso haremos cualquier cosa que quieras.

—Ahh, ¿sí?—preguntó él volviendo a besar su cuello.

—Sí—respondió ella riendo.

—¿Y por ahora?—preguntó él despegándose de ella levemente.

—Por ahora comeremos esos horribles pancakes que preparaste.

—Suena bien—respondió Enzo sentándose de vuelta al suelo y ayudando a Alana a hacerlo también.

No recordaba haberse sentido así de feliz alguna vez en su vida.

#enzo vogrincic #enzo vogrincic fanfic #enzo x reader

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