Hey! I'm Guilherme, a Brazilian reader and writer. Well, English is not my first language so there may be some writing errors, but I will try to do my best.
I write for fun, maybe it takes a while because I have some other things to do.
Well, you can just call me Gui, I hope you like it and that's it!
This is a reader x character blog!
Requests: Open
Characters I write for:
MK1 - Bi-Han (Sub-Zero), Johnny Cage, Syzoth and Tomas (Smoke).
Can you please reblog if your blog is a safe place for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, asexual, aromantic, pansexual, non binary, demisexual or any other kind of queer or questioning people? Because mine is.
Hii ! It's been a little time since i send you a request ;) how are you doing ? Good i hope !
I saw that you wrote some Bucky stories so may i ask for one too ? I'm obsessed with his winter soldier mode, it's so interesting in a lot of ways. So, i would love a scene where he's still under Hydra control (during the Captain America 2 yk ?) and ftm!reader or gn!reader as you prefer, is part of the civils while Bucky is fighting with the Avengers. Everyone is terrified, but reader is beyond reason and can't stop looking at Bucky fighting moves. But it happens what happens and Buck, while trying to kill Natasha, find reader hidden behind a car and he stares. He kinda has a freeze when he sees the way reader's eyes are not fully scared but mostly amazed !
Thanks for reading me, hope this scenario suits you ? 🎀
Veneration
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x FtM Reader
Summary: During the fight between Captain America and The Winter Soldier, you can't help but be mesmerized by the way Bucky moves.
A/n: I'm glad to get another request from you! Im doing well, hope you are too! Can be read as FtM reader or male reader. Requests open.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
The cacophony of screams and sirens was deafening. Downtown Manhattan, usually a vibrant tapestry of life, had transformed into a chaotic warzone. Captain America and the Winter Soldier, two titans of a bygone era, clashed amidst the terrified throngs. Buildings trembled under the impact of their superhuman blows, glass shattered, and vehicles were tossed like toys.
Amidst the pandemonium, a young man stood transfixed. His eyes, wide with a strange mixture of admiration and exhilaration, were glued to the spectacle unfolding before him. He wasn't cowering like the others; he was mesmerized. The Winter Soldier, a whirlwind of motion, captivated him. The effortless grace with which he moved, the brutal efficiency of his combat, the chilling indifference to the chaos he wrought – it all ignited a strange fire within him.
He knew it was dangerous. He knew the risks were immense. He'd seen firsthand the destructive power of the Winter Soldier, the way the concrete beneath his feet had shattered as he slid across the street, a testament to the raw force he wielded. Yet, instead of fear, a thrill coursed through him. It was like witnessing a forbidden dance, a savage ballet of destruction.
He continued to watch, every detail burned into his memory. The way the Winter Soldier's metallic arm glinted in the sunlight, the chilling precision of his strikes, the almost animalistic ferocity that emanated from him. He memorized it all, until the encroaching chaos forced him to seek cover.
He found refuge behind a mangled car, his heart pounding. Peeking over the wreckage, he witnessed a chilling sight – the Winter Soldier's mask, torn from his face, lay discarded on the pavement nearby.
An inexplicable urge washed over him. He reached out, his hand trembling slightly, and picked up the mask. The smooth, cold metal felt alien yet strangely familiar in his grasp. He ran his fingers over it, lost in a reverie.
He didn't hear the footsteps.
The Winter Soldier stood before him, his eyes narrowed, assessing. The young man, expecting a torrent of rage, was instead met with an unsettling stillness. Gone was the cold, calculating killer; in its place was an intense scrutiny.
The Winter Soldier saw no fear, no disgust, only… admiration. It was a strange sensation, to be the object of such intense, almost reverent attention.
The young man, seemingly oblivious to the danger, reached out and offered the mask back to him. "Take it," he whispered, his voice barely audible above the din.
Bucky, for that was who he was, accepted the mask with a curt nod. He secured it over his face, the familiar metal a comforting presence. As he turned to face his opponent, his metal arm instinctively deflecting a thrown shield, he couldn't shake off the image of the young man, his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and something… more.
Bucky didn't know who he was, but a premonition, a faint echo in the depths of his artificially enhanced mind, whispered that this encounter, this fleeting moment of shared intensity, would prove to be far more significant than he could possibly imagine.
This encounter, he felt, was the first chapter in a story that would forever intertwine their destinies, a story of admiration, obsession, and perhaps, even more.
oi Gui, amo suas fanfics, pode fazer mais uma do glenn de twd?☹️ só alguns headcanons ta bom!!
Glenn as your bf...
Glenn Rhee x GN! Reader
Cw- Gender neutral reader, You/Yours pronouns, Fluff, Knives, Zombies, Glenn being the best boyfriend. Maybe it’s a bit ooc.
Synopsis- Just some headcannons of what it would be like to date Glenn! (he's a sweetheart!)
Word count- +1200
Protective and Loyal
Glenn is very loyal and protective of the people he loves. He would do anything to keep you safe, even putting himself in danger.
-
The sun hung low in the blood-red sky as you and Glenn trudged through the overgrown, abandoned streets of the city. The apocalypse had long since claimed this place, leaving only the shells of buildings and the haunting echoes of the lives that once were. Glenn walked close behind you, his hand resting protectively on the small of your back, guiding you safely around the debris littering the sidewalk.
Suddenly, he stopped short, pulling you back with him. His eyes narrowed as he stared at something ahead, his body tensing. "Wait," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Stay here."
Before you could respond, he stepped in front of you, positioning himself as a barrier between you and the threat. A zombie shuffled out from behind a rusted car, its eyes milky and its mouth open in a snarl. Glenn slowly reached for the knife at his belt, his grip tightening around the handle.
"Don't move," he said under his breath, his gaze never leaving the creature. "I'll take care of this."
He took a step forward, then another, until he stood between you and the zombie. With a swift, precise motion, he lunged forward, burying the knife deep into the zombie's skull. It crumpled to the ground, its body twitching for a moment before falling still.
Attentive and Caring
Glenn has a caring side that he shows to the people he cares about. He’s the kind of partner who remembers little things, like your favorite coffee or the book you want to read. He loves to take care of you and makes sure you’re comfortable.
-
You sat by the fire in the communal area of Alexandria, the sun setting outside the high walls that kept the walkers at bay. It had been a long, hard day of searching the city for supplies, and your muscles ached from the exertion.
Suddenly, Glenn appeared from the darkness, a small smile playing on his lips. In his hands, he held a worn, leather-bound book, its cover slightly tattered from years of use. He walked towards you, his eyes shining with excitement and anticipation.
"I found something today," he said softly, holding the book out to you. "I think you're going to love it."
You took the book from his hands, your fingers brushing against his as you did. You looked down at the cover, your heart skipping a beat as you read the title. It was your favorite book, a novel you had read countless times before the world ended.
"Glenn, how did you know?" you asked, your voice filled with wonder and gratitude.
He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "I found it in your bag, back at the prison," he said, his voice soft and gentle. "I knew how much you loved it, and I wanted to find a copy for you. It took some time, but I finally found one today, tucked away in an old bookstore downtown."
You looked up at him, your eyes shining with tears of joy and love. "Thank you," you whispered, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him close. "This means more to me than you could ever know."
Honest and Open
Even though Glenn can be a bit reserved sometimes, he is open and honest with the people he loves. He values being clear in a relationship and wants you to always feel heard and understood.
Playful and Fun
Despite the tough times he has faced, Glenn keeps a playful attitude. He loves to make you laugh and enjoy the little moments in life.
-
You were sitting on a fallen log outside the safety of Alexandria's walls, enjoying a brief moment of respite in the waning daylight. The stress and horrors of life in this post-apocalyptic world weighed heavily on your shoulders, but you tried to find moments of joy and laughter whenever you could.
Suddenly, Glenn emerged from the treeline, a mischievous grin already spreading across his face. He had a twinkle in his eye, and you could tell he was up to something. He sauntered over to you, his hands behind his back, trying to hide whatever he had behind him.
"Guess what I found?" he asked, his voice dripping with feigned innocence.
You raised an eyebrow at him, a small smirk playing on your lips. "What did you find?" you asked, playing along with his little game.
Glenn's grin widened, and he brought his hands out from behind his back, revealing a small, wilted daisy. It was hardly the prettiest flower, its petals drooping and its stem a bit bendy, but to you, it was perfect.
"For my lovely partner," he said, his voice deepening into a terrible impression of a romantic lead from a cheesy 80s movie. He got down on one knee, holding the flower out to you with a dramatic flourish.
You couldn't help but burst out laughing, a sound that echoed through the quiet evening air. "Glenn, you're ridiculous," you said, shaking your head in amusement.
He stood up, a huge grin on his face as he watched you laugh. "But did you laugh?" he asked, a note of triumph in his voice.
You nodded, wiping a tear of mirth from your eye. "Yes, you big goof," you said, smiling at him. "But I love you for it."
Romantic Gestures
Glenn loves big romantic gestures, but he also appreciates small, everyday moments. He might surprise you with a picnic in a lovely place or cook your favorite meal for a candlelit dinner at home.
-
The sun had just begun to set, painting the sky in a breathtaking array of oranges and pinks, as Glenn took your hand in his and led you out of the safety of Alexandria. He had a surprise planned for you, a chance to escape the harsh realities of this post-apocalyptic world and lose yourselves in a moment of romance and normalcy.
As you walked hand in hand through the overgrown fields that surrounded the community, Glenn kept you close, his arm wrapped protectively around your waist. He guided you to a small, abandoned farmhouse, its walls still standing despite the passage of time. Inside, he had set up a candlelit dinner for two, complete with a checkered cloth draped over a makeshift table and a bouquet of wildflowers picked from the surrounding meadow.
"Glenn, this is beautiful," you said softly, your eyes wide with wonder as you took in the intimate scene before you.
He smiled at you, his brown eyes shining with love and adoration. "I wanted tonight to be special," he said, pulling out your chair for you like a true gentleman. "A chance for us to forget about everything else and just focus on each other."
You sat down, watching as he lit the candles and poured you each a glass of wine from a dusty bottle he had found in the farmhouse's cellar. He had thought of everything, down to the smallest detail.
As you ate the meal he had prepared, a simple but hearty stew made from ingredients he had scavenged from the surrounding area, you talked and laughed, losing yourselves in conversation. Glenn regaled you with funny stories from his past, his eyes sparkling with mirth as he recalled happier times.
This is what I imagine dating Glenn would be like...
Author’s note: Hey! I hope you like it, I tried my best to do it. inclusive, queria agradecer pelo carinho, isso é muito importante pra mim. Happy 2025 to all of you ♡
Don't translate or copy my work and don't repost on other social networks, if there are any grammatical errors I ask you to excuse me!
Did I disappear for a while? Yeah, sorry about that. But I'm back to talk about my obsession of the month... (of the month is an understatement, I would say of my life-)
BUCKY BARNES!!!!
Omg- He's so handsome 😭 I swear, I'd let him do unimaginable things to me.
This is just something I thought about these days, maybe it's a little ooc.
So… let’s imagine that you and Bucky are in love, but you are so stubborn to admit that…
Bucky smirks, his blue eyes glinting mischievously as he leans in close to you. "Well, well, look who it is - my favorite little troublemaker," he murmurs, his voice low and teasing.
You feel your cheeks flush at his proximity, his scent of leather and gunpowder filling your nostrils. Bucky knows exactly what buttons to push to get a rise out of you.
"Aww, what's the matter Buck? Jealous that I'm not fawning all over you like those girls at the bar?" you retort, jutting your chin defiantly.
His smirk widens, a predatory glint in his eyes. "Maybe I like seeing you all riled up. It's cute how flustered you get around me."
Bucky reaches out, trailing a finger down your jaw. You shiver at his touch, desire coiling in your belly. He's so infuriatingly smug, knowing he has you wrapped around his finger.
"You know what I think?" he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. "I think you're just dying for me to kiss you senseless right here in front of everyone. To put you in your place and show you who's really in charge."
Your heart races, arousal coursing through you. God, you want him so badly. But you won't give him the satisfaction of knowing it.
"In your dreams, Bucky boy," you scoff, shoving him away playfully. "I'd never gave in that easily."
He chuckles, desire and frustration warring in his gaze. With a regretful sigh, he steps back, running a hand through his hair.
"Guess I'll have to work harder to break that stubborn will of yours. I do love a good challenge though." He winks roguishly. "This isn't over, sweetheart. Not by a long shot."
With a final heated look, Bucky turns and saunters off, leaving you aching and wanting. Damn him and his sexy mind games. He always gets the best of you in the end.
Author’s note: Sorry about disappearing again! I end up running out of ideas and time, work has taken a lot of time away from me. I'll try to post a few more short things like this just so I don't run out of content. I'm working on an ask at the moment. (btw, sorry for the delay, but I promise I'm writing) ♡
Please don't translate or copy my work and don't repost on other social networks, if there are any grammatical errors I ask you to excuse me!
Cw- Male! Reader, fight, mentions of death, mentions of killing, use of a knife, swearing, Fluff. Maybe it’s a bit ooc.
Synopsis- The Winchesters are always the ones who save, however, in a situation it seems that things changed and they needed to be saved.
Word count- 841
It was supposed to be just another normal hunt in Texas, just a monster and nothing more. The more they investigated, the stranger the case became, but they didn't give up. However, during a search in an abandoned place far from town, a group of demons surrounded them. Sam and Dean were ambushed and tied up in a room.
A few hours passed and they were still there, the demons trying to interrogate them to see if they could get any information. "I'm not going to tell you anything, little bitch." Dean said with a tone of irony, making the being who was interrogating him snort with anger.
However, soon some noises were heard and then some demons were sent to check. "Dear Dean, I think you misunderstand the circumstances..." The tone of debauchery was noticeable in the dark being's voice.
However, before he can continue, a loud noise makes him turn around and then, before he realizes it, something heavy is thrown at him. Sam and Dean look at the door, which has been kicked in, and then there you are, saving them as if you were a knight in shining armor.
"I am here now!" An arrogant smile is on your face, and in your hand is the demon-killing knife (you've hidden it to use on a hunt, but Dean doesn't need to know that part). The demon lets out an angry noise and comes at you, pulling out a knife that was on his belt.
However, you soon get into a grapple as you try to stab each other. In the background, you can hear Dean encouraging you and shouting some insults at your opponent, while Sam remains silent because he has a gag in his mouth.
Soon, however, your knife and the demon's are thrown away as you continue to fight. As luck would have it, the knife falls on Sam's side and he waits for the right moment to kick it to you. Soon, the ideal moment appears, you land a punch on the evil being's jaw and then he staggers backwards. When the younger Winchester notices he quickly kicks the knife towards you, you notice and grab the knife. Quickly, you kill your opponent and then a sigh of relief escapes your lips as you stash the knife in your belt.
"Finally, I thought he was going to beat you." Dean says with a provocative smile, making Sam roll his eyes. "Right, without me you'd be screwed." Quickly, you untie the younger Winchester and then the older one.
"Shut up Dean, stop teasing." Sam says as he pats you gently on the shoulder, then stretches. "Anyway, we still have a lot of demons to kill out there." The shorter Winchester says as he snaps his fingers and looks at the door, but he soon turns to you when he hears an amused snort.
"I've already killed them." You say as you look at the two brothers with your arms crossed, an arrogant smile on your face as you put your hands in your pockets. "I'll wait for you in the car." Then you get out and leave them there,
-
"So you mean you found us because Dean sent you a selfie and there was a local burger joint in the background? Wow, I can't believe it!" Sam says laughing, patting you gently on the shoulder as he eats a hamburger rather enthusiastically.
"Shut it, Sammy." Dean's cheeks flush and he stuffs his mouth full of potato to cover it up, making you and the younger Winchester laugh. You take a sip of your drink while enjoying their company.
Soon, Sam stops laughing and looks at you, curiosity present in his gaze. "Hey, weren't you already on a hunt? How did you finish so quickly?" A soft laugh comes out of you and then you lean back in your chair, looking at the table. "I was, but I ended up finishing faster because I got help."
Your sentence seems to arouse Dean's curiosity, who takes a rather small bite out of his burger. "Well, it was a nest of vampires and a friend of mine showed up to help, maybe one day you'll meet him."
Soon, the older Winchester raised an eyebrow, wanting to know more, quickly swallowing the food in his mouth. "What's his name? How old is he? Is he better looking than me?" A sigh leaves your lips, knowing it's going to be a long conversation.
-
Now everyone is in the car, Dean and you in the front seat and Sam in the back seat, leaning back and getting into a relaxed position. "You know what we learned today? That even Dean Winchester needs saving sometimes." A muffled laugh comes out of Sam and Dean looks at you out of the corner of his eye, raising an eyebrow.
"We also learned that Dean is very good at interrogations!" Sam says as he starts laughing, making you giggle. Your laughter seems to infect Dean, who laughs softly.
Maybe being a hunter isn't so bad after all...
Please don't translate or copy my work and don't repost on other social networks, if there are any grammatical errors I ask you to excuse me!
summary: peter struggles to balance between life and work, and it's ruining his relationship with you.
wc: 6.6k.
genre: smut.
warnings: andrew!peter, college au, established relationship, brief fighting, brief injury and blood mention (nosebleed), misunderstandings, peter reveals his identity, dry-humping, over the pants (or suit) handjob, body worshipping, lots of sweat, fingering, frotting, riding, spandex fetish, reader has a thing for peter in his spider-man suit!
You were starting to feel antsy. You could feel it—the nerves kicking in again. Anticipation—a suspension of doubt—made your hands clammy at first, but it was the time that made your hands clutch nothing but air. You rubbed the sweat off your hands onto your pants, your knees not so comforting with their pointedness.
Acceptance—when it was evident that Peter was late, again.
Birthdays have never been a big deal in your family. Sure, it was great that you had the privilege to live another year. To witness yourself grow older, to stand a few inches taller, to live a little more knowledgeable than yesterday. But growing up with parents who had to constantly work, well-late into the depths of night, it had never been more than a birthday wish that had greeted you in the mornings, and bid you slumber in the evenings. Since then, you knew not to expect anything.
If only Peter hadn’t made such a big deal out of it this year.
“Excuse me?” The familiar timbre of a voice speared your thoughts; deep and tunneling as you were transfixed on the glasses of water before you. Yours had been refilled, though a little sparse compared to Peter’s full cup.
Your eyes widened with feigned curiosity, a small smile plastered alongside to hopefully negate any annoyance from the waiter—because you expected what he was about to follow up with.
“Hey… uh,” he shifted on his feet awkwardly, eye bags weighing heavier than the last time he had checked up on you. You looked around, surprised by the amount of patrons who had filled the space around you while you were daydreaming. Laughter and smiles completely lit up the room. The dim lights were practically stationed in the restaurant for decoration, and seemingly to spotlight your ‘dinner for one’ status. “I’m sorry, but… we have no more tables to fill, and if you aren’t ordering soon, then we’ll have to give your table up for the next party...”
It was obvious that you weren’t, you hadn’t even torn into the buttery bread rolls that were piping hot forty-five minutes ago. Now, the fat had solidified into spotty, yellow clumps, though you doubt that would’ve been enough to detract from the quality of the rolls.
“Oh, I—“ You pulled out your phone to check your messages again. Nothing. Swiped down to refresh your conversation with Peter. The loading icon felt like it took forever, you half-expected that your phone was updating the thread with Peter’s messages that somehow got lost in the void of the restaurant’s spotty signal.
And nothing.
“I—yeah… uh. I-I’ll head out.” It was embarrassing. Even if the waiter had given you a sympathetic smile, you hated knowing that you wasted his time. You hated that you selfishly occupied a seat when someone else would’ve been done with dinner by the time you exited.
“Thanks—”
You hated that you had your hopes up for things to be different.
Again.
The night was dreary. Not even the wind had greeted you like the others when you stepped out. Soft and fluttering against your skin, but scolding enough to make you put your coat back on. Luckily, your apartment wasn’t too far from the restaurant, a fifteen minute walk at most if you speed-walked. Shoving your hands in your coat pockets, you then ambled along the sidewalks, wallowing in your feelings with a playlist that belted in your ears once you plugged your earbuds in.
You didn’t have the energy left to hurry home.
Once you crossed the last intersection, you felt a little bit more at ease. Seeing the familiar apartment complex at the end of the block picked your pace up a step more. You paused your music once you neared the entrance, just a turn away before you could finally bury yourself in your bed.
You reached into your pocket to grab your wallet. The weight in your palms instantly reminding you to deposit the cash tips sometime soon before the stretch of the leather had become unbearable to fit in your pocket.
Your walk slowed as your attention was fixated on your wallet, fumbling it open clumsily to retrieve your keycard. In midst, you caught a glimpse of a photo print of you and Peter, standing shoulder to shoulder with the biggest grins as Peter had a peace sign above your head, doubling as bunny ears. Honeymoon phase, they’d call it. Where you were beginning to discover more about Peter, and Peter was beginning to discover more about you. Likes. Dislikes. Hobbies. Memories. It felt like yesterday when you two were spending every second of your day with each other.
Now, it would be a miracle if Peter returned a call.
With the keycard in your hand, you turned the corner, and towards the entrance, the smiles from the photo print reflecting onto yours as you could vividly hear Peter’s pleas to retake them again. The flash of the cameras always made him blink.
If only you had been focusing on where you were going instead of the still image of the first memory between you and Peter, maybe you could have avoided the collision altogether when you approached the door. You suddenly found yourself on your back, facing the night sky as clusters of stars twinkled in laughter. There was a slight throbbing to your forehead, a mark you’d reckon would appear as purple within the next 12 hours despite the painless… pain.
“Oh god— I’m so, so, so, sorry! Let me—“ If the beating your face took to the door hadn’t snapped you back to reality already, the familiar face before you certainly pulled you out of your thoughts like whiplash once he helped you back onto your feet. Your vision instantly cleared of haze, as if his simple presence was your remedy.
“(M/N)?” Peter interrupted himself, his eyes widening. You could see the wheels turning in his head when the dim light spotlighted your features: eyes, nose, lips; flesh and bone that he was well-acquainted with.
“Peter—“ You took a moment to scan him. It was like all the other times he had been late. His fringe; stuck to his forehead with a mixture of sweat and water, the latter being a last resort to clean himself up. His knuckles; bruised and torn with minuscule cuts barely able to conceal the truth behind his scars. His necktie; clumsily done with the knots coming loose. Though, whether the silk unfurled by Peter’s own sloppiness, or by the increasing frailty of his fingers that had become susceptible by even the most delicate material of neckties; it was futile to mention it to him. You knew he’d shut you down with another excuse.
“W-what are you doing here? Are you okay? I-I’m so sorry—I was on my way to you and—Oh god, you’re bleeding!“ Breathless, panting, not only because he was panicking from running late.
But because of adrenaline. You could see it in his eyes. The alertness. The high.
“What—“ You wiped your nose with the back of your hand, only to see a smear of blood blotted across your skin. “Shit.”
Another thick drop splattered in greeting.
“Peter, it’s a nosebleed. You’re acting like I had my arm chopped off or something.” You’ve been applying pressure to your nasal bridge, pinching it tightly to barricade the stream of blood. All while you had your head tilted over Peter’s sink, in case of the blood leaking past your hold. “And how long does it take to find a cotton ball?”
“I’m trying—“ His one-sided game of hide and seek with the bag of cotton balls was leaning in favor of the latter. Medicine cabinet: empty. Bedside drawer: foreign coins and bills. You were watching him from the corner of your eye, a small limp to his step when the lightbulb seemingly lit up overhead and had him dashing towards the kitchen.
“Found it!”
Peter’s touch was delicate. Tender, like the forming bruise on your forehead. He was adamant on taking care of you, even if frankly—you would’ve done it much faster had it been a solo endeavor. Cotton balls were plugged up into your nose, and a warm face towel was laid across your forehead. If an intruder had the audacity to rob Peter’s apartment, you’d imagine you would find yourself lucking out. Peter joked that you looked like patient zero.
“All done. See? Nothing to cry about.” He was joking again, the smug smile across his face a clear indication of it—and the laugh that he couldn’t help but contain.
“Ha. Ha. Thanks, Dr. Parker. Now, how much do I owe you? I’m paying outta pocket.” For a brief moment, you forgot that you were upset earlier. All because of how nice it was to actually see him again. He pressed a kiss to your lips, a comforting gesture if his constant apologies weren’t enough. Stay focus.
“So, about dinner…”
“Oh,” Disappointment softened Peter’s smile. You could see it tightening, even as he was organizing his room. Though, it was really a matter of tossing his clothes on the floor back into the laundry basket. “Listen, my… bike got stolen and—“
“Peter…” You sighed, pinching your nose bridge because you feared another avalanche of a nosebleed incoming. That, and because it helped you maintained your composure. “You said that the last time. Three times, actually.”
“Third time’s… the charm?” He was joking. Again. But even he wasn’t laughing at it because he’d been cornered. Called out. Embarrassed that he thought that would even work on you. Embarrassed that he thought he could get away with it.
Again.
“Peter.” You called out, straightening your posture against the headboard of the bed when he sat at the end of the mattress. Shit, it’s happening.
“I… I don’t know how to…” The veins in his hands, they lined perfectly to the cuts, scrapes, and bruises on his knuckles. Clear as day now that he wasn’t hidden under a dim light. “I just…”
He had his hands around his face, rubbing his temples, his cheeks, his nose, anything that could alleviate the accelerating drill of his heartbeat.
You were hopeful to get an answer out of him. A proper explanation. But it pained you, knowing that in a few seconds—what he would tell you would only confirm your yearning suspicions of his strange behavior.
He doesn’t love you anymore.
He’s cheating.
You’ve become a nuisance, an absolute bore in his life.
Actually, you’re a bad influence on him.
You’re holding him back.
He needs to let go of you to accomplish better things.
He never loved you.
It’s happening. It’s fucking happening. All he has to do is say those words. The dreaded five words you’ve heard once from him in a nightmare.
I want to break up.
“If you want to break up, just say it.”
It sounded softer in your head, but the tears that had welled in your eyes finally bursted into droplets. They ran down your cheeks, and your voice broke during its pursuit.
Something commanded you to let those words slip out.
Maybe it was the ghost that you and him had been theorizing about since the night you’ve helped him move into the apartment floor above you. Carrie; you nicknamed her, and Peter would scold you for doing so because he had the suspicions that giving her a backstory would ultimately reassess his home as a possessing ground. To this day, he swore he saw a shadow looming in the corner of his room on a perfectly stormy night.
Or maybe it was the months of frustration that you had accumulated, snowballed because of your own selfish reasons to continue being with Peter for as long as you could, even if you saw the signs, because you couldn’t bear to see yourself without him. Live, when you two had promised so many futures together.
“What? No, (M/N), that’s not—“ He jolted up at the mere mention of separating from you. There was a chill. The room suddenly felt colder, and then warmer—scorching hot, when the glossiness of your gaze reflected into his. He began joining you by your side. “Hey, hey, I would never—“
He broke into a cold sweat. He’d never seen you like this. And to think that he was the root of this—of your pain—it was all overwhelming.
“Peter, there’s always something going on with you. Y-you don’t text me for days. You ignore my calls. You disappear without telling me. You’re always late. And… you’re always hurt? And you think that I’m dumb enough to not notice that you aren’t? How you’re limping? How you’re always bruised and—For god’s sake, Peter, I’m just as smart as you, we have the same GPA and—“ You took a breather, a gulp because you were rambling now. Your cheeks felt hot, from your sudden outburst and from embarrassment, because the latter half of your rant immediately negated the idea of some kind of affair.
“Okay, maybe you aren’t cheating, but—“ You felt him tug you into his arms, but you wouldn’t budge. Instead, you pushed away, edging to the other side of the bed to face him.
“I would never.” He sighed, his arms dropping as soon as you removed yourself from his embrace.
“Then what is it? You’re leaving me in the dark here. I barely see you anymore, you know that?”
“I know.” He was biting his lips. Chewing, as if he was internally debating something. A decision that could either ruin you, ruin him, or both.
“Then?”
You waited. Watched his fingers fiddle with one another as he continued turning the screws in his head. Your heart would jump whenever he would open his mouth, anticipating whatever had caused so much turmoil in his life, but there was a last minute decision that kept him silent.
Crickets.
Nothing.
“I don’t… I don’t know what you’re doing. But you’re getting hurt and I’m just… worried.” Your gaze dropped to his hands again. Pale, veiny, and full of life yet they’ve looked like they’ve been worn out. Torn. “At least tell me it’s not gambling.”
“Well—in a way with my life, it kind of is like gambling—“ He thinly smiled, hoping it would at least make you crack a smile.
“Peter!” You scoffed, nudged his side with your elbow out of frustration, then surrendered when you brought your knees up to your chest, and buried your head in between your knees. “Not funny.”
“Okay, okay, just… you can’t tell anyone.” His voice softened.
“We all know that between you and I, you’re the one with the running mouth.” Your voice muffled in the space between your legs, hands tucked around your nape.
“I’m serious, (M/N)” Pleading now, he held your hand in hopes to get ahold of your attention again, squeezing so you’d look at him. You do.
“I won’t tell.” It was a promise. Peter didn’t need you to clarify because he could see it in your eyes, honest and sincere. Determined, as if you were willing to protect him.
“Okay… and also, don’t… freak out.” Peter was off the bed now, wandering in the middle of his room as he rolled his shoulders back, relaxing the muscles in his back like a wrestler preparing for his next fight. He gestured for you to follow him out to the stairway, out into the cold.
“Why would I freak—“ There was something around his wrist. No, wrists. You thought they were watches, but there were two devices around him. They were strapped with a similar black leather to your wallet, to Peter’s, and a red button protruded in the middle of it. “Peter, what are you—“
You stopped a few feet before Peter, watching him closely, yet afar. Afraid, yet intrigued. Concerned, because he was on the ledge of the staircase now, perched like an animal. Yet there was a grin on his face. Not crazed like a madman considering he was acting like one, but foolish. Goofy, giddy like the times he’d hide stuff from you, and wait until you’d notice it was gone.
“Like I said, don’t freak out.”
“Peter, what are you even—“
With that, he opened his arms like wings that spanned across his back and flipped into the air as if the wind would carry him across city to city. As if he was recruited as a sponsor to the heavenly gods with the incredible height he’d taken off in, pursuing the clouds, the wind, the stars, and the night simultaneously all in multiple slings.
Into. The. Air.
Into the fucking air.
You raced forward with a yelp, as if you would’ve made it in time to catch him. To catch his hand before he fell. To hold him one last time before he’d land on the ground and shatter every bone in his body.
If he had landed.
No, you blinked once—twice—no, at least in the double digits because this was all a dream. It was all a dream, right? That you caught a glimpse of Peter somehow slingshotting himself from window to window, from rooftop to satellite, like it was a mundane day job one had to endure to put food on the table, to pay the bills.
Right?
You paced around the stairs, raced towards one floor to another, bending over the railings because—Peter disappeared. He was gone. If he had smashed into something, you would’ve heard him. You would’ve heard him in yelp in pain. You would’ve heard the metal railings shake. You would’ve heard him cry for help.
Instead, you heard the sound of wind. Whistling as it sailed leaves to the west of you.
As if it carried a hint along the way.
“Peter?! Peter—Fuck, fuck!” You followed the sound of the whistle. The source of the pitchy sound. Fluttering when your head spun closer to the note, wavering when you were getting colder, then peaking when your gaze lifted, higher, and higher, until it landed on him.
Peter.
Peter, perched over the rooftop of the apartment complex like a bug. The moonlight framed his silhouette, emphasized the texture of his suit; protruding grids that encased him like a nest; and you’ve never been more intimidated.
Red and blue spandex tightly-fitted over the muscles and body of the man you have been more than well-acquainted with. You’ve seen it before. It was familiar. On the news, on the papers, on the internet.
“You’re freaking out!” He yelled out, clearly amused in your frozen state of shock.
He peered over at you with a smug grin, aimed directly at your bafflement before pulling a mask over his head. It was the icing on top in rendering you utterly incapable of stringing up any words. The lens of his mask reflected off of you, mirrored your astonishment in clear display, and you sensed that would be a memory Peter would be carrying to his death bed.
“What. The. Fuck.”
“Okay, so, just to clarify,” You were winded, still recovering from the heart attack Peter had nearly given you after he took you on for a stroll in the night. Into the sky.
Luckily his bed was right beside you. As soon as your legs gave out, you fell back into his mattress, and stared into the ceiling, speechless. Peter joined you after, bringing you into his arms. He’d always been aware that touching you in any way or form brought you back to reality. “You are… not a cosplayer?”
“Honestly? That would make me way more money than what I’m making right now.” You couldn’t keep your hands or eyes off of him. Peter was still in his suit, and that gave you the perfect opportunity to run your hands over the webbed texture of the spandex.
“Just a few more months until my lease is up. I can move in, and that’ll help with the rent. For both of us.” It felt like silicone, or rubber. Whatever it was, it was durable considering how thin it felt in your fingers when you rubbed it in between them.
“Just like that? You’re not mad?” Your hands came to a halt when Peter suddenly took them, and rested your palm on his cheek, coincidentally on the cut that you’ve never noticed.
“Why would I be mad?” Quieter. Your voice mellowed into a whisper as you catalogued the amount of beatings his skin had taken. Caressed the marks you were too selfish to notice. Exhaustion wore on his face, and yet he never looked so peaceful as he gazed into your eyes.
Pretty eyes, Peter thought. Ones that could motivate him to get back up after falling. That feels nice, when you pressed a kiss to his damaged skin. A touch that made him believe there was a reason to suffer, to be great, to be all of this.
“Well, for starters, it’s your birthday and… I completely blew it.” Peter closed his eyes when you began brushing his hair back, knotted in cold sweats, but you fanned your fingers out to undo them until they felt somewhat tidy in your strokes. Smooth and soft. He sighed, “Again.”
“Can’t entirely blame you. How would I look if I were to complain about missing you, when you’re out there risking your life for everyone?” It wasn’t a question, but you wanted him to look at you. To respond. And he does, when you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, and he returned it with a silken one, a following grin. “All I wish for was that you told me sooner, I guess.”
“Yeah,” He figured he’d save the details of the ‘friends’ he had made along the way some other time. For now, it was all about you. “Wow, you’re not even going to wish for me to be safe?”
“Hey, you know what I mean! That’s a given.” You rubbed at his chest, finding yourself quickly accustomed to the scales of his costume. The red was striking against your palms, comforting almost.
“Still. I want to hear you say it.” Peter rolled onto his side and slipped an arm under your back, scooting closer to you. His signature goofy grin never failed to knock a similar one out of you. And unwillingly drawn out, when he began pinching at your sides in quick snips.
“Stop—“ You laughed, your hands occupying themselves to defend your body from his quick attacks. But Peter was fast, avoiding your arms and hands to find another opening that you’d abandon. “Stop, stop! Stay safe! Happy?!”
Closer and closer, you found yourself beneath him, framed by his body as he took your arms above your head and pinned them secured with his tight grasps.“Incredibly.”
Your legs spread open to make room for his body, only for Peter to wrap them around his waist, to press his body into you, kissing you like he was driven to steal your breath.
“This your way of making it up to me?” You broke apart from the kiss, only briefly, before the taste of Peter, the softness of his lips reeled you back in for another kiss. Languidly paced until one’s accelerating lust for one another had taken ahold of the wheel and shifted gears, into a weightiness that kept your mouth parted open while Peter’s impulse to explore you had become evidently clear.
“Problem with that?” He’d been driving his hips into you, grinding his front with your own. Both clothed, infuriatingly covered, but the pressure in between your bulge and Peter’s was too pleasing to ignore. Too satisfying to make him stop. “I should take this off—“
“No, wait—“ You grabbed his forearm when he reached back to unzip his suit. To be honest, you never thought about how he even got in or out of the suit in the first place, but that was beside the point. Something about this suit, this costume, whatever you wanted to call it; it was a turn-on.
The way it fit snug against Peter’s body; how every fiber of muscle was stretching the material to its limit. Maybe you were just turned on because you associated it with him being a hero. For god’s sake, that was as much of an aphrodisiac one could be if you happened to be saved from a falling tower.
Or maybe, it was simply how Peter looked in it. Unabashedly handsome, yet himself, seemingly courting you further into his webs, as if he hadn’t already from day one.
“Keep it on. I like it.” You muttered, fiddling with the collar of his suit. It was snapped on tight, but you managed to slip a finger or two past, to pull at it with a stretch.
“Then how are we going to…” He abandoned the few inches he had unzipped, providing a small relief to the squeeze around his body while his broad back was bare and tense towards the ceiling.
“Then, you’ll take it off. But for now, I just want to…” One hand was on his nape, pulling him down for another heated kiss, while the other traveled south between your body and his. Further, lower, until you cupped him at his crotch. Rubbing, squeezing, and palming at the thick, growing center. “Want to try something…”
You could feel him smiling, a crooked one flattened against your own grin when he whispered, “I should’ve told you sooner, shouldn’t I.”
“You think?”
You were getting harder, your pants beginning to tighten around the center as you palmed him. It was a heavy handful in the beginning, but Peter’s bulge began to unfurl. It didn’t take long, didn’t take much of a stroke for him to unravel from his tuck and thicken into a full-blown erection towards the left side of his thigh. It pointed downwards, the plump head evident through his suit, and you were beginning to drool in Peter’s mouth at the haziest image of it.
“Come on, I need to get out of this… It’s killing me.” It wasn’t like Peter to beg. It was charming, cute, sexy, all the synonyms that could describe how you felt all day and every day about him, and you squeezed, because he wasn’t being patient with you.
“Birthday boy gets what he wants, don’t you think?” He winched into your mouth, and you swallowed him. Swallowed every ounce of breath, and breathed it back out with a kiss. Sloppy, heavy, your tongue weighing on his because you wanted to keep his lips apart, mouth open to hear his moans.
Peter grunted again once you began stroking his cock, touching him like it was a delicate plate of chin. Fingertips only, dusting him off with little pressure so he wouldn’t shatter.
“What are you going to do about it, hm?” You continued your short, limp strokes. “Just going to take it? Hm?” Your wrist was weak, lazy as it became limp to tease him even more. Peter sucked in a breath, doing his best to maintain his composure, but it was all futile, all those attempts of sucking in his lip to chew, to hold back his moans, because you’d slap his clothed cock, grasp it tight in your hand, and massage as much as you could gather.
“Fuck, baby—“ You had him under your control. Even if his hands were free, you knew he wouldn’t lay a finger on you. He knew that if he did, you’d stop touching him, stop stimulating the blood running down every vein of his cock, fueling his erection. His desires.
He couldn’t let that happen. Not after the day, the week, the months that he’d been having.
You and Peter eventually switched places: Peter resting on his back while you sat in between his legs, marveling at the stretch of his suit. Somehow, his cock looked bigger than you’d remember. Squished and pressed flush against his thigh like this. The suit was like a magnet, inviting your hand back to his cock and refusing to let you go.
“Just relax.” You commanded him. He was watching you slouched up against the headboard, gravity weighing his eyelids lower. With his legs spread apart, he provided you excess space as you began massaging his right thigh with your free hand. “Is this okay?”
“Mm-hm...” He knew you were talking about the pressure on his thigh, but the strokes over his cock remained supreme in his mind. Championed through as you pressed harder into the shaft, massaging tenderly from vein to vein. The protruding webbed texture of his suit pressed into him, rolled against cock like the inside of a fleshlight, ultimately adding onto the already gratifying pleasure.
It was glorious.
“More…” Peter gritted through his teeth, a selfish need for more escaping from his lips in huffs. Grunts, when you’d fulfill his wish with two hands now, kneading his cock like dough.
Thick, stiff, throbbing dough.
Before the complaints could come pouring in, you shimmied your pants off in a hurry, tossing it in the corner before greedily climbing onto Peter’s lap. It was like he read your mind, perhaps another secret that he’d been hiding, because he immediately took you into his arms. An embrace, a tight one that grounded you against his bulge, pressing your body weight until it restricted the blood flowing into his erection, as well as preventing an escape.
“You’re so hard…” You marveled at how rigid he’d gotten under you, grinding your ass against the large mass, beating and throbbing with every rut.
“I’m so hard.” He confirmed, complained, and bragged all in one smile. He then took you by the nape to kiss you again. Hard on the mouth, slow with his tongue to taste you and your desires, his desires. His other hand rested on the small of your back, guiding your grinds at first before his fingers looped into your waistband, tugging once before stuffing the strap under your ass cheeks. Your hard-on was the only thing keeping the cotton material from slipping off while you continued grating your hips. “Just like that…”
To make it easier for you, Peter repositioned his erection so it was facing north, towards his navel, in its sublime mass. Your briefs had been tossed to the side now, completely bare bottomed against him while you mounted over him, and rode in needy strides. It was a sight to behold, something that Peter reckoned he should savor. He folded his arms behind his head, providing a self-made cushion for the weight of it, and watched you. It was entrancing, like a dance. You swiveled your hips to a ghosting rhythm, one that could only be heard between two hearts, two parties, between the two of you, man to man.
“Like this…?” Breathless, you unbuttoned your shirt open, but left it present on your body. Sweat formed over your neck, dribbled down to your bare and exposed chest; it was practically an open-invitation for Peter to ravish you. And so he did, with a haunting groan as he held you, contained you in the warmth of his arms as he simultaneously pulled you forward, and pushed himself off the headboard to meet you in the middle.
He kissed you on the neck, achingly hard when he sucked, and then enthralling, sweat-inducing when he bit into your skin. He couldn’t contain himself. You tasted too good, and it’d been too long since he had you just like this. “Just like that. Your cock against my cock, fuck. I love it so fucking much.” He muttered hot against your neck, panting because he was sweating too. The spandex felt tighter on his skin, constricting against him with every drop of sweat.
“Oh, fuck…” His lips had latched onto your nipples now. Peter’s tongue worked magic on your two nubs, flicking and swirling over their perkiness until you felt swollen. Raw, when he bit, pulled, bit, and bit again. You buried your face into his hair, rocking yourself back and forth with your arms holding him close to your chest, gliding your cock against his print as if a gun was pointed to your head, like your life depended on making Peter come.
You were delirious, humping Peter without a single thought other than to get him off, and you’d reckon that was the goal lingering in Peter’s head as he began rocking back into you. It took a while for him to find your rhythm, chasing after it in slower, sluggish beats, but eventually he caught up to you, snapping his hips against your own, grinding his cock against yours like two crescent moons caressing the other’s curvature.
“Close…” He muttered into your shoulder. Your shirt was hanging off, exposing more of your skin, but Peter made sure you didn’t feel a single chill with the marks he had followed up with soon after. It was like he had done it on purpose. Made you feel safe in his arms, comfortable in the warmth of his body, worshiped with the amount of care he had given your body. Frozen, when you felt something prod at your pucker. Then enraptured, when Peter pushed a wet finger inside of you.
Tremors, chilling tremors ran down your spine as you took the single digit Inside of you with one determined push. “Fuck—“ Your back arched, chest pushed forward towards him, and your hips jolted forward in one strong, and delicious swipe against Peter’s cock. “Peter…”
It was a mouthwatering display of food before him. The perky nubs on your chest, the veins in your neck, the mole on your body, the strain of your thighs on overdrive, the swollen head of your cock; Peter didn’t know what to lay his finger on first, what to mouth on, what to kiss, and suck, and latch onto until you’d scream. Whichever it was, he knew you were desperate for him. Begging, sweating, whimpering, for Peter to lay a finger on you. Another finger inside of you now, and you rolled your eyes at the stretch he was providing you with, a fulfilling wish that startled your hips once more.
“You’re so good, so good for me…” Peter was staring up at you, marveling at the layer of sweat on your body. It glistened with every movement, dripped heavily with every thrust of Peter’s fingers, and tasted just like how he remembered. Salty when he licked up your neck, up your chest, against your nipples, and repeated. Your body was his, and Peter was determined to let the world know. Determined to remind you in case that you’d forgotten.
Your hands were wandering. Grabbing and touching at anything and everything that could linger in between your fingers. Peter’s hair, his head, shoulders, chest, your cock and his, his back. Everything. You couldn’t keep your hands off of him. Even if he was covered from head to toe, you were touching him. Because he was yours.
“Gonna come—“ You cupped Peter’s jaw to straighten his posture, to kiss him sloppily on the mouth, and he pulled his fingers out of you, resting them on either side of your hips as he joined you once again in grinding hips. The pleasure was overbearing, drilling into each individual brain until the smallest movement would render you both speechless. Panting in slurred moans of each other’s names, of profanities that you two had rarely used in your lifetime on earth.
“Me too…” Peter pushed himself on top of you now. Your arms were tied around his neck, tighter than the necktie he had on prior, and your legs; they wrapped around his waist equally secured, if not even tighter, as he thrusted against you.
You were too distracted, unable to respond to Peter’s constant licks in your mouth. He was desperate for you, suckling on your tongue and chasing after it once it slipped out because of your moans. They were rattling, each breath immediately vaulted in the back of Peter’s throat because he couldn’t part from you. Couldn’t imagine a life where he would. And if he had to, at least he’d have a part of you inside of him. Even if it was a whisper.
He thrusted harder, panting into your mouth, his nose practically smushed flat against yours. He wondered if you could imagine that life, a life without him.
“P-Pete—Shit, I’m—“ Your fingers dug into his nape, grounding him impossibly closer to you when that feeling had suddenly come to stun you in place.
It simmered hard in your stomach, then to a rolling boil as it traveled lower to your pelvis. You squeezed your stomach, clenched your toes, and your eyes widened when Peter’s hips showed no signs of faltering. Your cock swelled and your balls jolted, tightened, until you finally saw stars bursting into flames and let gravity have it come crashing down on you. Shivers had you enclose your arms around Peter, holding onto him tight as you felt yourself crumble and spill all over your chest and his suit. You came with a gritted grunt of his name, sinking your nails into his nape because you had nowhere else to channel your spasms as Peter kept rocking against you, drunkenly astonished by how you came for him. By how much you needed him.
It didn’t take long before Peter came right after. He buried his head into your neck, stifling moans into the heat of your neck, clammy with sweat, yet comforting as he filled the inside of his suit with thick, large loads. You felt his cock throb against you when you reached down to help, to ride out his orgasm to the fullest. His cock pulsed as you’d imagine several thick pumps of his load would gush out and uncomfortably layer his navel. If only his suit hadn’t been waterproof, because there was no doubt that he would’ve been leaking out of it by now.
You’ve never been so jealous of spandex.
He was hot in your ear, panting, breathing you in, then breathing you out as you slowed the strokes on his softening cock. Then a sudden inhale, a jolt of his body, when you squeezed hard, to seal the deal in covering the entirety of his cock in his own cum. It was filthy. It was shameless. It was Peter.
“Driving me crazy here…” Peter sluggishly lifted himself off of you to face you, a sleepy smile plastered across his face as you kept kneading at his cock, increasingly sensitive with every second.
“Not enough to drive you away, right?” You smiled, drowsy yourself as you quickly found your high coming to a crash. Though, you mustered enough strength to hold Peter’s cheek in your palm, tenderly caressing, to which he immediately kissed as soon as it reintroduced itself.
Peter sighed, holding your gaze for what felt like minutes, and yet you wished it could be for longer.
It was different this time, the way he looked at you. The same amount of love and warmth, yes. But they no longer wavered, no longer tried to find something else to look at in case you were prying about.
“Never.”
Instead, they stilled, relaxed the longer you stared into him, into those brown eyes of his, because you were in now.
You were finally in his life.
How much you needed him?
His question had been answered.
nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!
Cw - Male reader, Angst, memory loss, mentions of abandonment, mentions of fights, mentions of murder and deaths. Maybe it’s a bit ooc.
Synopsis - You were always left by people, but Billy promised you that he would remain by your side until the end. However, you expected him to break this promise, just like he did with the others, but it seems like he wants to keep this one.
Word count - 841
You were always very attached to the people close to you, always doing everything you could to make them happy and comfortable around you. However, no matter how hard you tried, those who were close to you left, one way or another, and so did the memories related to them.
Over the years you got used to this, living a normal life and enjoying those who were still close to you. Your expectations were never very high, always expecting people to leave without warning, abandoning you. However, there was one person you didn't want to go, and that was Billy Loomis.
The fact is that you and he were secretly dating, and for many years it was like that. When his mother left, you were there, supporting and helping him. However, he became more distant, lost in his own thoughts and feelings, leaving you lost for a while.
Billy has always been a complex boy, so it was a surprise when he asked you to marry him. You obviously accepted, saying you'd been in love with him since you were kids, but your heart squeezed when he told you it would have to be a secret. He told you that he was working on a plan, not exactly what it was or why. What's more, he told you that you'd have to pretend to date Sidney Prescott because it was part of the plan.
You blame yourself for accepting this, for agreeing to be his boyfriend in secret, for letting him maintain a fake relationship with Sidney. At school you had to see the girl and him together, something that made you bubble with anger and jealousy inside. Why did you let him? Honestly, you don't even know, maybe it was part of Billy's manipulation, or maybe you were blinded by love. Either way, you fell for the illusion that one day he would take you on, you let yourself be carried away by his sweet, loving words.
When the murders started you were terrified, thinking about Billy and how he must be at the moment. Fearing for his safety. In fact, you hardly slept at all for fear of having a killer on the loose.
When you arrived at school and saw him, it was like a wave of relief washed over you. Talking to him and his friends, feeling uncomfortable every time you saw Sidney around Billy. What's more, Stu's jokes related to the murders didn't lighten the mood, in fact, they made you even more worried.
During the period when the killings took place, you and Billy started arguing a lot, mainly because of jealousy. These fights didn't last long, but they were still stressful. But the worst fight was when he got out of jail, you wanted to know why he had gone to Prescott's house, which led to a disagreement. So, to calm you down, he promised to take you on and break up with her, leaving you happy and calm.
The day the party at Stu's house took place officially sealed the end of your relationship with Billy, a tragic end to a relationship that was supposed to be magical. You got there early, seeing some of your friends there, but no sign of the brown-haired boy. Without much to do, you sat down on the sofa and started listening to Randy's long explanation of horror movies.
You don't really remember what happened that night. In reality, it was a very traumatic event for you, so your brain just deleted some things from your memory. The deaths, the fights and the conversations have all been forgotten, it's as if they never even existed. Most of the things you know have been told to you. The only two things you remember from that night were when Billy revealed himself to be a ghostface and when he died, the rest is very fuzzy and even distorted.
However, something that your memory hasn't erased are Billy's promises and sweet words. The things he said to you in the moments when you were vulnerable around him, in the intimate moments you shared. He always promised to stay by your side until the end of the world. For a long time you tried to erase those memories.
No matter how hard you tried to forget him, he never went away. He was stuck in your memory like gum on the sole of a shoe, like a scar that never goes away. Many nights you found yourself thinking about him, even waking up and remembering dreaming about him.
In your dreams, the promises came true, lulling you to sleep. But he also haunted your nightmares, his lifeless face emerging from the shadows or a ghostface would appear and start hunting you down, shouting sweet promises and trying to trick you.
In the end, your biggest dream became your biggest nightmare. You wanted people to stay by your side, for them not to leave. But now, you just want him to go away and leave you alone, allowing you to finally be free…
Author’s note: I've had a creativity block and haven't found the motivation to write in recent months. I'm sorry for the absence, now I hope to return and post at least once a week. ♡
Please don't translate or copy my work and don't repost on other social networks, if there are any grammatical errors I ask you to excuse me!
Friendly reminders to cis fanfic writers that afab≠woman
Afab means assigned female at birth so this includes/can include cis women, trans men, transmasc people, nonbinary people, and intersex people.
If you’re making a fic where the reader is a woman, uses she/her, wears feminine clothing, etc. tag it as fem reader instead.
I’ve been smacked in the face as a trans man by reading fics tagged afab thinking it will be gender neutral, but the reader is actually a woman and I’m disappointed because I was ready for a fic I thought would apply to me.
Have fun writing and make sure you’re tagging your fics properly, ty <3
Cw - GN reader, You/Yours pronouns, fluff, mention of injuries and fights, established relationship, a little bit of angst?, Maybe it's a bit ooc.
Synopsis - Draken loves you very much, he's a great boyfriend with you. His gestures make it clear how much he loves you.
Word count - 889
Ken is a five-star boyfriend, he's been sweet on you since the beginning of your relationship. Some people might even think that maybe he's cold towards you or something, mainly because of his intimidating appearance, but they're very wrong.
Only you and your close friends really know how healthy your relationship is, so you rarely fight. To tell you the truth, some of your friends are even jealous because they wish they had a relationship like that too.
- Draken calls you when he can and when you're away from each other, usually to tell you about the things he's done during the day. At the end of the calls he always says, "I love you, I'll see you later."
He also tells you about the embarrassing things he's been through with Mikey, "You wouldn't believe what he did today, Mikey got into a fight with a child because she wanted his Dorayaki, and as if that wasn't enough he showed her his tongue afterwards, how embarrassing." His words make you laugh, you can hear Manjiro grumbling in the background and Ken scolding him.
- When you're sad, he's almost always the first to come to you, wrapping you in a warm hug. No words need to be spoken unless you want them to, Draken doesn't want to force you into anything.
"I'm tired of all this..." Your voice comes out in a low tone, but he listens and hugs you tighter. The blond lets out a sigh and then falls silent, waiting for you to continue talking.
"It's been too much lately, I think I just need to calm my mind a bit." These words make Ken look at you and bring a hand up to your cheek. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"Can we talk about it later? I really want to hug you now..." The blond laughs and then gives you a chaste kiss, accepting your offer.
- Despite all this, you still fight sometimes, causing you to spend some time thinking about it. However, you always find a solution or come to an agreement.
Neither of you wanted to fight, but Draken burst out when he saw Hanma hitting on you. However, you were oblivious to Shuji's flirtations, thinking he was just joking around as usual.
Well, that was the main reason for your fight and now you're both mad at each other. The fight happened yesterday, but since then you haven't spoken to each other.
A sigh leaves your lips as you realize the time, it's already late. When you've finished locking the door and closing the windows, you go upstairs and lie down on your bed, a frown on your face.
You put on your headphones and start listening to music, trying to forget about the fight and calm down so you can go to sleep. However, a noise at the window catches your attention, you turn to look and realize that they are small stones.
When you open the window, you see your boyfriend standing below, a smile of relief on his face. "I thought you weren't going to open the window, anyway, we need to talk." You snort at his audacity. "I think we talked enough yesterday, don’t you think, Ryuguji?" He shudders when he realizes you've called him Ryuguji.
"I know I ended up being rude, but please, let's talk, yesterday I took a long time to get to sleep while thinking about our fight," he realizes you were about to say something and rushes off. "And I realized that I treated you very badly, so give me a chance."
You take a closer look at him and notice some dark circles under his eyes, sighing you massage your temple. "Okay, I want to talk to you too." You close the window and go downstairs.
- He also notices your little habits and the other things you do, especially the things you do for him.
Ken has noticed that you've bought more hair elastics and that you always carry one in your pocket. He has the ability to forget or snap them, but you always carry an extra one with you just in case.
He's also noticed that there are some extra bandages in your bathroom. You lied about buying them for yourself, but Draken knows that you bought them with him in mind. He loves the fact that you take care of his injuries while scolding him for being so irresponsible.
In fact, Draken has noticed that every time you ride your motorcycle together you hold him firmly. This simple gesture makes him happy, enjoying having you around.
- Of course, he also does things for you, but he doesn't talk about it. Draken notices the things you like and the things you dislike, mentally writing them down.
You came home complaining because you couldn't find the drink you liked at the market, pouting as you put the shopping away. The blond listened and then wrote it down in his head. Well, to your surprise, a week later about three bales of this drink mysteriously appeared in your fridge, yet Draken never said anything to you about it. But it's still obvious that he did it.
- In short, Draken is a great boyfriend and he loves you very much. His every gesture, however simple, is done with the purest love and devotion.
Author’s note: I didn't post for a while because I was traveling, but anyway, I hope you enjoyed it! ♡
Please don't translate or copy my work and don't repost on other social networks, if there are any grammatical errors I ask you to excuse me!
Oii Gui! It's so cool to see another Brazilian here, anyway. Could you do a Rick Grimes x Ftm!Reader? I've been looking for something like this for days, but I just can't find it, lmao. Sou só um pobre garoto que quer fanficar 😭
My boy
Rick Grimes x FTM! Reader
Cw - FTM! reader, you/yours pronouns, pet name (My boy), angst to fluff, Maybe it's a bit ooc.
Synopsis - You've always loved Rick, but due to some life situations you ended up drifting apart. But thanks to the apocalypse, you finally found each other again after so long apart.
Word count - 906
Well, during your teenage years you had several friends, including Rick. You've always been close, and Grimes was one of the people who supported you the most when you discovered you were trans.
Rick never judged you, always complimenting you and reaffirming how much of a man you were to him, making you fall in love with him little by little. During your first dose of testosterone he was there to support you, encouraging you and holding your hand. What's more, he saved up and gave you your first binder as a birthday present.
At that time you were absolutely sure that he liked you back in a romantic way, thinking about the different way he treated you. Rick even called you "My boy." And also the way he looked at you, his blue eyes expressed things he didn't have the courage to say out loud.
The fact is that Rick loved you, but he couldn't date you, at least at the time, because he knew his father would probably never accept it. Besides, he knew it would cause a lot of problems for both of you, so he never confessed anything. Well, he never gave you an explanation either, not wanting to fill your head with his worries and problems.
However, you had your heart broken when you saw that he had married Lori, thinking that you probably couldn't date him over anymore and that he had never really loved you. With no alternative, you decided to get over this ex-love of yours and then moved on - tried to move on in reality.
Well, for a while you stayed apart, even lost touch completely, becoming strangers again. Rick went on with his life and you went on with yours. You've made friends, lost friends, got a job, bought an apartment in the city and even met some interesting people, but it never came to anything.
That is, until the apocalypse happened, a lot of things happened, you lost your apartment, you lost your car, you were hunted by zombies and even by people. However, your journey took you to Alexandria, where you were finally able to start a new life.
...
You hear some noises and go outside to check that some new people have arrived. You quickly go to Aaron to find out who these new people are. "Hey Aaron, sorry to come here out of the blue, who are all these people?" You ask as some of them are being interviewed by Deanna.
Aaron just smiles at you and then lets out a sigh, starting to tell you a bit about the group he's found. However, when you hear the name of a member, you raise an eyebrow, a gesture that leaves the man in front of you puzzled.
"Do you know him by any chance?" Aaron asks, he stares at you for a few moments and then you finally work up the courage to speak. "I do, that is, if he's who I really think he is." Fear and concern for Rick's safety suddenly come over you, causing you to fall silent.
Aaron, realizing your state, tells you to go back into the house, something you do without question, needing some time to calm your mind.
...
A melody resonated in your head, making you sing it out loud while you were drying the dishes, a habit you've always had. In fact, your mother used to do this, so you probably picked up the habit from her.
Soon you hear a knock on the door. "I'm coming!" You shout from the kitchen, wiping your hands with a tea towel and going to open the door. "Sorry for the delay, I was drying some-" You stop as you realize who is standing in front of you.
"Rick..." You say in a whisper, afraid that maybe he's not real. It's certainly Rick, a little older and maybe even a little trimmer, but it's still him. Soon, you feel a sensation you haven't felt for a long time and then you're sure that you still haven't gotten over the passion you had for him in the past.
"You haven’t changed much, my boy." His words bring tears to your eyes and then, without a second thought, you wrap him in a tight hug, which is soon reciprocated by Rick.
"I've missed you so much..." Your voice comes out muffled because your head is buried in his shoulder. Hot tears run down your cheeks and then stain Rick's clothes, and he hugs you tighter as he hears your words.
"Me too, I'm sorry for letting you down, I never wanted to walk away from you, I just didn't want my dad to-" You cut him off. "I know, it's okay." In reality, you didn't know and it wasn't okay, but that's a conversation for another time.
"I just wanted my boy back, I've missed you so much these last few years..." He says, his voice coming out muffled because his head is buried in the crook of your neck. His words make you blush and then stop crying, pulling away slightly.
"And now you'll have all the time in the world to make up for it, but first we need to talk." With that, you pull him inside and close the door, taking him into the living room so you can talk in peace.
Maybe you'll finally be together after all this time, it's worth the risk…
Author’s note: I hope you enjoyed it, I loved doing this oneshot. Aliás, é realmente muito difícil achar fanfics do Rick com leitores FTM, eu amei o seu pedido! ♡
Please don't translate or copy my work and don't repost on other social networks, if there are any grammatical errors I ask you to excuse me!
i would love mitsuya takashi x shy male reader who offers on behalf of the photography club to photograph mitsuya's creations at the sewing club, but in reality it was only because he secretly loves him!!!! it's very rare to find someone from brazil here and you are very good at writing 😊
Winter Collection
Mitsuya Takashi x Shy Male Reader
Cw - Male reader, You/Yours pronouns, fluff, Maybe it's a bit ooc.
Synopsis - You've always been shy and at the same time you've always liked Mitsuya Takashi, but you've never had the courage to approach him. But thanks to a new clothing collection, you've got an opportunity.
Word count - +1800
For many years you've been a classmate of Mitsuya Takashi, but because you are a shy guy you've never worked up the courage to approach him. So you just watched him from afar, always waiting for the right opportunity to talk to him.
Ever since you were a child, you've always shown a quieter demeanor, not wanting to attract too much attention. What's more, you've always found it difficult to express yourself properly when talking to others, being afraid of being judged or even misunderstood. So you had to find another way of expressing yourself and that's where the photography club comes in.
After a long time you finally found a better way to express yourself, through photos. You've always had a talent for things related to photography, and you were always praised for the pictures you took.
However, despite your shyness, you've started to fall in love with a boy, Mitsuya Takashi. You've been thinking about him a lot lately, but you're not sure how to approach him.
However, it seems that the gods or something above are in your favor, because you've got the perfect opportunity. The sewing club, of which Mitsuya is a member, is making some new garments for the winter and the newspaper club wants to advertise it.
You, being the smart guy you are, offer to take the photos and the captain of the newspaper club accepts, she's your friend so it was easy to ask her. "Look at you, smart guy, you've got the perfect opportunity to finally talk to Mitsuya." She says to you, a lopsided smile on her face as she wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.
"Hey, it's not like that..." Your voice comes out in a low tone as you try to find words to express yourself, she laughs and then puts her hand on your shoulder. "Relax, I'm just joking, but anyway, I'll see you later." She says and then walks away, leaving you alone in the room. When the door closes, you let out a sigh and look around the room to make sure you're really alone.
A smile appears on your face and then you let out a sigh of contentment. "I'm a genius, it was obvious that this was going to work." You say to yourself while you're smoothing your uniform with your hands, just to make sure it's not wrinkled. "Now I just need to tell the leader of the sewing club, that'll be easy-" You freeze as you realize what you're about to do, the leader of the sewing club is Mitsuya, which means you'll have to talk to him.
With that realization, the smile disappears from your face and instead a worried expression appears, doubts flooding your mind. You quickly go to the bathroom to wash your face - and perhaps hide in a cabin until next week, if that's possible.
When you get there you realize that it's empty, now everyone is either doing activities for clubs or out of school, lucky for you. You grab a handful of water with your hands and then wet your entire face, drying it with the sleeve of your uniform.
You lean against the sink counter and then stare at the cabin doors, wondering what to do. "Damn, look what I've gotten myself into..." A sigh leaves your lips and you remain silent after a few moments, thinking.
Then the memory of something your mother used to say to you came to mind: "You only live once, so do whatever you think is right, don't be afraid to make mistakes."
Remembering this, you turn around and look at yourself in the mirror. You take a deep breath and then repeat the phrase while looking into your eyes through the mirror. "You only live once, so do whatever you think is right, don't be afraid to make mistakes." You nod to yourself and take a deep breath, ready to talk to Mitsuya.
Leaving the bathroom, you head towards the sewing club, repeating the phrase mentally as a form of motivation. You pass a few students from other clubs, smiling and waving shyly to them as a sign of respect and politeness.
Finally you arrive in front of the sewing room, raising your hand and knocking on the door, waiting patiently for someone to come. Soon, the door opens and you meet a girl whose name you don't know.
She introduces herself and then you say your name and smile, "Oh, Is there anything I can do for you today?" Her kindness makes you relax, a soft smile appears on your face as you put your hands in your pockets. "I need to talk to Mitsuya, is he in?" Your words make the girl let out a sigh and smile gently, she looks around the corridor and then looks back at you, making you look away.
She tells you to go inside the room and then she turns to say something to you. "I'll go after him, just a minute." With that she leaves the room and leaves you alone inside, you go to the window and look out at the landscape, seeing some students and some birds. Animals always make you feel more relaxed, perhaps because they are beautiful beings or because you don't feel pressured by them. In any case, you feel calm around the animals.
Soon, you are snapped out of your daydreams when you hear the door close, you turn to say something, thinking it's the same girl as before, but soon you feel the words die in your throat as you look at Mitsuya. The boy gives you a gentle smile when he sees you and then holds out his hand, introducing himself.
You stare at his hand for a few moments but then introduce yourself too, in a low voice, and shake his hand. However, after letting go of his hand, you realize that your hand is shaking a bit and you put it back in your pocket. You still haven't worked up the courage to look him in the eye, preferring to just stare at the door.
"Oh, I know who you are, we're in the same classroom." His words make you want to run out and scream with happiness, he knows who you are. But you pull yourself together and take a deep breath, thinking of the shame you'd suffer if you did that. "I know who you are too, like you said, we're in the same classroom." You look at Takashi, giving him an embarrassed smile and then looking away.
"Well, what do you need to talk about?" He asks you, and you mentally curse yourself when you realize that you still haven't told him about the photos. "Oh, I'm s-sorry, I'd like to photograph your winter collection, the newspaper club asked me to take the pictures and send them to them, is that okay to you?" You stutter a bit in the first part, but decide to just ignore it. Of course you hid some details, like the fact that you were the one who asked to take the pictures, but Mitsuya seems happy with the proposal and so accepts.
"Sure, I think it's an incredible idea!" Then he looks you up and down and you realize it, causing you to stop and stand still like a statue. "Uh, but where's your camera?" His question comes out in a tone of genuine doubt, making you smile shyly and then cross your arms to try to calm down.
Once again, you take a deep breath and then look down at your feet, paying attention to your tone of voice so as not to speak too quietly. "Well, I was t-thinking of taking these pictures in the p-photography classroom anyway." You stutter and mentally curse yourself, but Takashi doesn't seem to mind. "Oh, right, I'm sorry, I have to take a lot of clothes, can you help me?"
You automatically agree to help him, going with him to pick up the clothes. "Wow, you guys have done a lot this year." You say impressed, picking up some clothes carefully. While he handed you some pieces you carefully scan the garments, noticing how well made they are and also how much effort has been put into them.
"Oh yes, it took us a while, but we finally finished." His comment brings a genuine smile to your face, making you feel relaxed around him. Soon, the two of you take all the clothes to the photography club room.
"I think you could put the women's clothes on this mannequin here." You say, picking up a mannequin and showing it to him, not looking directly into his eyes. "And the men's clothes, some can go on another mannequin and some you can wear."
Your words make him blush slightly and he smiles softly, scratching the back of his head lightly. "Are you sure about this? I don't know if it's going to be very good." He seems to think for a few moments, while you clear your throat to speak. "Well, it's going to be amazing, you're handsome." You say without thinking straight, then you feel your soul leave your body and return, making you quickly move on to the materials needed to assemble the camera.
"Thanks for the compliment." He says it before you start apologizing. "I'll take part in the photos if you'll take part too." His words make you stop breathing for a few moments, you lock up and stop, putting the camera away.
He notices your silence and then clears his throat to speak again. "I mean, just one photo, you're handsome too, the photos would be amazing." Before you can reply, he continues. "Besides, photos look better with real models."
"I don't know, I don't like appearing in this kind of thing..." You say as you clean the camera lens, not looking at him. However, he insists: "You don't have to send these photos to the newspaper, just take them as a souvenir of this day."
You were about to deny it but your mother's words come to mind again, making you sigh and then stare at the camera for a long time. "Okay, I'll take the pictures, I just don't understand why you're being so insistent." You mumble the last part in a low tone, but he listens.
"Well, it's just that it doesn't make sense for the person who inspired the creation of the garment not to wear it." His words make you blush and look at him with wide eyes. "Huh?"
He laughs slightly and then raises both eyebrows. "Sorry if I was too direct, but it's just that you were the inspiration for this winter collection." You stare at him for a few moments, you want to run and hide in the bathroom out of shame, but you know that this is an opportunity you don't want to miss and so you force yourself to stay put.
Maybe you want this photo shoot to last forever…
Author's note: I confess that it took me a while to write it down, but I managed to do it, I put a lot of effort into it and I hope you liked it! By the way, I’m glad that you like my writing! ♡
Please don't translate or copy my work and don't repost on other social networks, if there are any grammatical errors I ask you to excuse me!
omg- I found your blog a little while ago, but I absolutely loved it, it's good to see other FTM content producers from Brazil here! xoxo<3
Thanks for the compliment! I'm genuinely glad you liked it, I follow your blog and I love your posts! Anyway, I really admire your work and I also look up to you as an inspiration!
Seeing other Brazilian writers inspired me to create a blog, mainly, because it helped me realize that even though I didn't have English as my first language I could still write stories in English.
Well, I think that's it! Thanks again for the compliments! ♡
Cw - GN! reader, you/yours pronouns, cursing?, angst, comfort, drinking, Maybe it's a bit ooc, no curses AU!
Synopsis - After a break-up you feel totally broken, drinking and doing everything you can to forget your ex-lover.
Word count - 629
You and Gojo Satoru were dating, you had a complicated relationship, so when life's difficulties came up you decided to break up. In reality, the person who confirmed the break-up was Gojo, you just agreed to it.
Gojo made a lot of mistakes, he didn't pay enough attention to you and he treated you badly, but you made mistakes too. However, you loved him and even after the break-up you still wanted to get back with him, so you tried to nurture the lack of him with other people.
When the night came, you went out and went to parties, kissing various people while trying to forget about him for at least one night. But even with all your efforts, you still thought about him, wanting to apologize.
The night ends and soon the day comes, and with it the hangover. Your head hurts, but not as much as your heart, and you feel nauseous, just like when you had your heart broken a week ago.
You pick up your cell phone to check the time and then you see a notification, it's a new post from Gojo. You quickly throw your phone on the bed and run to the bathroom, feeling the bile rise in your throat.
You lean against the bathroom wall, panting and with your throat scratchy from the gastric acid. Hot tears run down your face as you stare at the ceiling, your head spinning from the mind-blowing pain in your head.
In an act of desperation you run to your room and call Gojo, the phone rings for a few moments and then falls into voicemail. A sigh of resignation escapes your lips and you lie down on the bed, putting your cell phone on the dresser.
"I'm really pathetic..." You whisper to yourself, drowning in a sea of self-deprecation and suffering, but you're soon pulled out of this chaotic atmosphere when you hear your cell phone ringing and vibrating.
"Sukuna?" You read the name on the screen, blinking a few times in disbelief. After a few moments you decide to answer it, wiping your hand across your face to collect yourself.
"Uh, hello?" Your voice comes out in a hoarse tone, holding the cell phone tightly. "You finally picked up, I thought I was going to have to go to your house." His words make you feel confused, leaving the phone on speaker you go to the call log and see that he has called you several times during the night.
"Oh yes, I'm sorry about that, I wasn't very, huh, well..." After these words an uncomfortable silence falls over the two of you, however, the sound of a sigh can be heard, a sigh emitted by Sukuna. "Look, I know it's not easy, but you can't keep acting like this."
You stay silent for a while, sighing and massaging your temple. "What do you mean?" An ironic laugh comes out of your phone, making you roll your eyes. "In that completely irresponsible way, you know that there are people here who really care about you." His words shut you up, preventing any sarcastic comments from coming out of your mouth.
"I know how you feel, but believe me, drinking yourself sick and kissing random people isn't going to solve anything," Ouch, those words were very direct. "Just trust me, you know I can help you, and besides, I care about you, even if you are an irresponsible idiot." You laugh lightly, feeling lighter, still choosing not to say anything.
"Then stop being stubborn and let me help you once and for all." His words come out in a grumpy tone, but you notice the softness behind them.
Maybe it's time to accept the help, who knows where the future might take you...
Warning: A new fandom has been added to the masterlist, so feel free to make requests!
Please don't translate or copy my work and don't repost on other social networks, if there are any grammatical errors I ask you to excuse me!
Cw - Male reader, you/yours pronouns, fluff, Mention of death, violence, drinking, maybe it’s a bit ooc.
Synopsis - You decide to go to a bar to forget your problems, but unfortunately you end up finding more problems, but you also find a solution.
Word count - +1500
A love disappointment, problems at work and some encouragement from your friend were enough to make you go to a bar. The bar was located in a more secluded part of town, and most people went there at weekends.
You left the house wearing your favorite outfit, a white T-shirt and black pants. When you got to the bar, you ran into your friend, who was already drinking and hitting on the bartender. As you approach, you nudge her shoulder lightly and she lights up when she sees you. "You really came!"
"Of course I did, I'd never miss a chance to drink myself into a stupor." You say jokingly, smiling amusedly. Soon, you sit down next to her and order whisky to drink, chatting about silly things. Some stories have already been told, but they're still funny. You drink and laugh as you reminisce about your teenage years.
"Remember when you and Willian nearly blew up the school laboratory?" She says, laughing out loud as you let out a nasal laugh. "Firstly, that was far from an explosion and, secondly, it was all Willian's fault." You say defending yourself, laughing as you remember that day.
"Hey, do you remember when you flooded the bathroom at school?" Her laughter stops and then she blushes with embarrassment, drawing a genuine laugh from you. "It wasn't my fault, I was unfortunately in the bathroom and then disaster struck." You finish your whisky and then smile sarcastically at her. "Yes, of course, whatever you say."
Before you can order anything else to drink the Bartender hands you a beer, causing you to raise an eyebrow. "Uh, sorry, but I think you gave it to the wrong person, I didn't order a beer." The bartender smiles at you and then points to a man sitting on a bar stool by himself. "That man sent you that drink."
Your gaze goes in the man's direction, analyzing his face, he notices your gaze and smiles seductively at you, then takes a sip of his beer. "Oh my God, you have to go to him now!" Your friend whispers to you excitedly, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. "Don't worry, I've already found someone I want to stay with tonight." She says as if she knew what you were going to say, making you sigh with relief.
"Wish me luck." You smile and then walk over to the man, clearing your throat to talk to him. "Ah, hello, did you send me the beer?" He nods and then you sit down next to him, your beer in hand. "So, what's your name, handsome?" He smiles and then takes a sip of his beer.
"James Hetfield, but you can call me daddy, and what would your name be, sweetie?" he says, smiling seductively. He says, smiling seductively as you raise an eyebrow and laugh slightly. "Oh yes, you're the lead vocalist of Metallica, I'm John Lennon, nice to meet you."
He laughs, catching your drift. "I'm Dean, now, what's your name?" He takes another sip of his beer as he waits for your answer, after you reply he smiles and then looks around. "Right, well, what do you say we get out of here, sweetie?" His tone comes out suggestive, making you smile and then agree immediately. You finish your beers and then leave the bar kissing, you go to his car and then he takes you to the motel room where he's staying.
"Just don't make too much noise." He says between kisses, making you bite his lower lip and smile seductively, he lays you on the bed and you continue kissing.
…
The next day you open your eyes and see that the man is still asleep, so you get up and put your clothes on. After buttoning up your white T-shirt, you go out and then order a cab on your cell phone.
You see that your friend has sent you a few messages and you laugh, opting to reply when you get home. The cab arrives, you get in the car and say the address, driving home.
...
After two months, a lot of murders began to occur in your town, worrying most of the population. These crimes usually occur at night, so many people stop going out, but that doesn't stop you from going out to cool off.
The bartender looks at you and greets you, smiling and then placing a glass of whisky in front of you, already knowing what you were going to order. You finish your drink and the bartender hands you a Cuba-Libre. "That's the man who told me to give it to you." You look at who the bartender pointed to and notice that the man has pale skin and long black hair, he smiles and then walks over to you. His gaze never leaving your face, looking at you with a mischievous smile.
"Wow, what does someone like you do in this kind of place?" he asks, smiling and looking at you seductively. You take a sip of the drink he's sent you and smile kindly. "Just enjoying life, that's all, how about you?" The man seems to like your answer, looking you in the eye and then taking a sip of his drink. "I'm just enjoying life too."
After talking for a while, you leave the bar, he kisses you and takes you to his car. "Well, you're very handsome, I confess I'm sad to have to kill you." Hearing his words, your eyes widen and you try to push him away, only to be surprised by a blow to the back of the head, knocking you out. You hear other people's voices and then faint.
…
"What the fuck, ouch." You feel a strong pain in your head, probably because of the blow, you try to get up or move your arms but realize you're tied up, becoming more aware of your current state.
"You're finally awake, I thought you'd died from the blow." The barman's voice echoes off the walls of the shed, he turns on the light and your eyes close, opening only when you've gotten used to the brightness. "Where am I?" Your voice comes out hoarse, probably because your throat is dry.
He laughs, the laugh containing malice. "Well, you're in the nest." Your expression shows doubt. "Nest?" The man snorts, then opens his mouth and bares his fangs. "Yes, well, I'm a vampire and this is my nest, there are lots of vampires here." You stay silent, trying to process what he's said.
"Vampires?" You whisper, making him smile. "Yeah, I'd explain it to you, but there's no point because you're going to die soon." His words make you squirm as he approaches, screaming and begging for help even though you know it will be in vain. However, before he gets too close to you, the sound of a door opening can be heard and then he turns around to see two men.
You look too, relieved that someone has arrived, but after looking for a while you realize that one of the men is Dean. "Hey, bloodsucker, how about you come over here and face us?" Dean says and then the vampire charges at them, but he's easily defeated.
"Hey, how are you?" The taller man comes towards you, cutting the ropes that bind you and helping you to your feet. "Well, I almost got killed by a, uh, vampire, I guess, but I'm fine." The man smiles embarrassedly and then introduces himself. "I'm Sam Winchester and that's my brother, Dean." You smile and then introduce yourself.
They get you out of there and then take you to the car, you lean against the car and then cross your arms. Sam leaves you and goes to talk to someone on the phone, leaving you alone. Dean ends up explaining their work to you, causing you to let out a sigh.
"Well, I had no idea that James Hetfield also hunted monsters." You say in a joking tone, smiling in a relaxed way. "But seriously, that was super unexpected, like, I never imagined that these things actually existed." Dean laughs lightly and then lets out a snort, looking away.
"Well, I don't think anyone really wants to imagine that sort of thing." After he says that, you look at each other, until Sam arrives and clears his throat, making you look embarrassed and then look at him.
"Sorry to interrupt, but I need to talk to Dean." You just smile and shrug, watching the two of them walk away, talking about something you can't hear. After a while they come back and Dean lets out a sigh and looks at you.
"Looks like we have to go, another case has come up." His tone contains dissatisfaction, but he tries to mask it, you let out a sigh and then smile at him. "All right, but when you pass through this town, come and visit me."
Dean brightens up and then takes his cell phone out of his pocket, handing it to you. "I've got a better idea, put in your phone number, so we can, well, keep in touch."
After that you both get in the car, he drops you off at your house and then he drives off, heading for the place of the next case.
Maybe you'll meet again in the future...
Please don't translate or copy my work and don't repost on other social networks, if there are any grammatical errors I ask you to excuse me!
