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apocalypseornaw · 2 months

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It's Real

Dean Winchester x Reader

Dean's back from Michael, everything should be ok but he's staying locked up in his room so you make it a point to find out why.

Smut with feelings

Dean was back. Michael was gone and Dean was back but it felt as if he was still gone. The moment he'd staggered in that door it'd taken everything in you to not rush straight to him. Once you were sure it was him you'd nearly dove into his arms. He'd hugged you tight, whispering in your ear “It's ok sweetheart, I'm ok”

Everything seemed ok on the ride back to the bunker, yeah Dean was a little on the quiet side but considering you could understand. When you parked and got out the impala he was even teasing Sam about his beard as the three of you walked into the bunker from the garage. The moment he walked into the war room and Sam was greeted with “Chief” and you with “Cap” you could see the wall slam into place but you weren't sure why.

In the last week you'd seen Dean a handful of times and that was when you happened to be in the hallway when he headed for a shower or the one to make a run into town and he wanted the snacks he'd added to the list.

Every time you tried to talk to him he shut you down and it was driving you insane. Yeah he'd been through a lot and yeah it was his default setting to not talk about his feelings but not with you. Any other time he let you in but not this time.

—-------------

You were sparring with a few hunters from the apocalypse world and had somehow managed to draw a crowd. Ryker and Tyler towered over you in height and Vivian was fast as hell but you were holding your own against the three of them.

You took Tyler out at the knees then ducked under Rykers arm, catching it and using his own momentum to flip him on his back then nodded to Vivian.

You went blow for blow with her but she happened to misstep one time and that was all you needed to pin her. When you offered her a hand up she took it with a grin “Damn Cap who taught you to fight?” You shrugged “I've taken self defense classes mixed with sparring with Sam and Dean along with on the job learning”

She nodded “Think Dean will join us? I'd love to see you two spar” you didn't want to tell her he was avoiding you at all cost so you just smiled “I'll ask” you turned to grab your water bottle then headed to your room so you could grab a shower.

Dean knew he needed to integrate himself with the hunters inhabiting the bunker but he didn't know how many more times he could see you and Sam working shoulder to shoulder, sharing inside jokes with a look and leading an entire squadron of hunters together.

He'd heard a few of the hunters talking about how “Cap” and “Chief” were always together, always worked every lead together, stayed up researching together and “Most of the time end up falling asleep together” one of the younger refugees from the apocalypse world had deemed you two a power couple and that was the straw Dean had to hear to know he needed to resign himself to his room for a while.

He'd lost you. Fifteen years of friendship, ten years of wanting you, eight years of loving you. If he'd just said something sooner, hadn't been afraid of losing you as his friend but now he'd lost you to his little brother and he couldn't even be angry, no matter the jealousy eating at him.

You stepped into the hall and saw Sam had just come out of Dean's room. When he shut the door behind himself he spotted you so you raised your eyebrows “How is he?” He shrugged “He's watching horror movies and has pizza and beer”

You glanced at Dean's door then asked “Why won't he come out the room? He barely talks to me or anyone for that matter when he does” Sam's eyes softened at your words “Maybe it's time you do that thing you always do with us”

You waved a hand, asking for an explanation and he laughed “You never let us wallow for long. He won't react to me, Cas, hell even mom. He needs you whether he admits it or not” you laughed “You mean he needs someone as stubborn as he is to out stubborn him?” He nodded “Exactly”

You looked from him to Dean's door then nodded “Wish me luck” he patted your shoulder “Good luck” then headed down the hall.

—---------------

Dean heard a knock at his door and figured it was Sam again “Sammy, I said I'm good” the door creaked open and your face popped around it “Good to know. Can I come in?”

He tried to ignore the way his chest clenched at your smile. “Of course sweetheart. C'mon” he watched you shut the door then walk further into the room, kicking your boots off before walking over to the bed.

You grabbed a slice of pizza from the table near the bed then climbed in the bed, laying sideways with your head on his back so you could see the TV considering he was laying on his stomach “Comfy?” He asked with a laugh once you'd taken his beer out of his hand and took a swig before turning back to the pizza “Very much so. You're a wonderful pillow”

You shouldn't be in his bed, shouldn't be laying against him. If you and Sam were…well he didn't want to think too hard about it but he wasn't the type of man to take another man's woman, especially his little brother's. He told himself it was innocent enough. The two of you had done this dozens of times over the years even if this time his mind was running a lot faster than normal.

—-------------

You lay like that through the entirety of Halloween two and halfway through Freddy versus Jason before your mouth had a mind of its own “I miss you Dean. For weeks we had no idea where you were then by some turn Michael let you go and now you're home but I still miss you. You're pulling away from me, from everyone and I don't want to lose you again. You mean too much to me”

He looked over his shoulder at you and grabbed one of your hands, giving it a light squeeze “I'm here sweetheart. I just don't want to take up too much of your time. You got a lot going on Cap” you rolled your eyes at the nickname you'd been dubbed with “I've always got enough time for you. Talk to me”

He let go of your hand then pushed himself back so he could turn to face you as he sat up.“I miss you too but this, coming home to this is a lot” “What do you mean? The hunters?”

He nodded “The hunters, you and Sam. You two are a unit, you run this whole operation like clockwork. You've built something and I don't know where I fit now” you smiled slightly “You fit with us Dean. You and Sam are the most important people to me”

He sighed “But you and him are more or it feels that way” you knew the confusion was clear across your face because he just shook his head “Never mind. Can we just go back to the movie?” You nodded “Yeah, sure”

—-------‐—----------

He laid back down on his stomach and this time you laid down next to him instead of on his back. You had no clue what he meant about you and Sam being more? Had someone said something to make him feel that way? You’d been running on damn near empty for weeks, Mary had taken to hiding your car keys to force you into eating and sleeping and when that didn't work she'd bring in the big guns and threaten to call Jody.

Sam hadn't fared much better. The two of you had been doing everything you could to keep each other's heads above water. Dean was the person who raised Sam, he'd always been the most important person to him. As for yourself, you loved the man laying next to you. He'd claimed your heart years ago whether he knew it or not. Your chest had felt hollow knowing the man you loved was being used by some dickheaded angel.

You reached for his hand closest to you, running your fingertips over the back of his hand. He smiled slightly then it was like his mood changed and he pulled his hand away.

“Sorry” you murmured and moved to sit up but he was already grabbing your wrist to keep you on the bed “Wait sweetheart. Fuck” you sat down in front of him and he turned to face you “Just talk to me Dean. Whatever is going on, we can fix it”

—---------------------

He shook his head, hand dropping your wrist. “I know you and Sam have gotten even closer since I've been gone”

You smiled slightly “Well yeah, leading a bunch of wayward hunters and hunting down some douchey archangel to get you back will do that to ya. Still doesn't explain the change between me and you. Dean you're my best friend, you've always talked to me and now you're shutting me out. I'm not used to it and I don't like it”

He hated seeing the pain in your eyes and knowing he was the cause of it. He sighed “I know you're with Sam” your head tilted to the side and you stared at him for a moment before you began to laugh. After a moment you covered your mouth with your hand then took a few deep breaths. He was confused as hell but figured you'd give an explanation “Oh Dean, honey you are so smart at times but so damn dumb at others”

“What?” You shook your head “Me and Sam have gotten closer yeah but not like that. Someone else has my heart and it ain't Sammy” his eyes flew to your face “Then who?” You shook your head again “Doesn't matter just know it's not your little brother”

He reached forward, cupping your chin with his hand “No way are you gonna tell me some lucky bastard has your heart then not tell me who” you wouldn't meet his eyes so he used his grip on you to turn your face where you had no choice. “You honestly have no idea do you?” You sounded almost sad when you asked and he felt his heart skip.

Did you mean him? “You have no idea how hard it's been with you not being here Dean. How many times I cried myself to sleep laying against Sam's chest because I knew he was the only person who could come close to knowing the pain I felt. You're his brother, you've been his parent and protector his whole life and I knew he was only person here who loved you anywhere as much as I do”

“You love me?” He damn near whispered and you nodded “How could I not?”

—-------------------

One moment you were spilling your heart out and the next Dean was claiming your lips in a hungry kiss. You were stunned for a moment then returned the kiss fully, when you felt his tongue slip into your mouth you gasped lightly and he used that to roll his tongue against yours. The heat roaring to life against every inch of your body from just a kiss seemed damn near impossible but this was Dean.

Holy hell this was Dean. You just confessed your feelings and instead of bolting he was kissing you in a way that had the wetness between your legs growing by the moment.

When you were finally forced apart for air he leaned his forehead against yours, both of your chests heaving. “Not what I was expecting” you teased breathlessly and he chuckled “Sweetheart, I've been locked up in this room because the thought of you with Sam…I couldn't take it. You're supposed to be mine. The jealousy has been eating me alive, imagining you with him”

You pulled back from him and grinned “You were jealous?” He nodded “Damn right I was. I've loved you for years and the thought that out of all people my little brother would be the one to take you from me? I hated it” you laughed “In that case, come here”

“No, you come here” he grabbed you by the hips pulling you towards him and turned putting your back down on the bed. He held his weight on his forearms as he hovered over you, catching your lips in another kiss. “Dean” you spoke and he pulled back to look you in the eyes and saw the love and desire there “I want you, please” he smiled “Never beg for me baby. Just tell me what you want” “I want you. All of you”

—----------------

Dean let out a low groan at your words. Fuck, the power you held over him. “You've got me” He promised, catching your lips again. He felt your hands slip under his shirt, silently asking for more access to him. He broke away from your lips long enough to pull the henley he wore off and toss it across the room.

The way you looked at him was like nothing he'd ever experienced. You let your hands trail across his chest, nails scratching lightly “I've always loved your chest, your arms” your praise of his body unlocked something in him. Fuck he loved it. You leaned up to place a kiss at the hollow of his throat and his eyes fluttered shut at the intimacy of the moment.

When he opened them your eyes were on him, a small smile on your face “No more running from me?” He smiled “No more running” he reached for your shirt so you arched your back off the bed to help him remove it. He tossed it behind him and looked down at you “You're so damn gorgeous”

He crashed his lips against yours and felt your hands gripping his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. He rolled his hips into yours and the moan you let out was better than anything he'd ever heard.

—-------------

You broke away from Dean's lips your need for air winning in the moment. He kissed down your jaw and to your neck. He pushed your hair back and attacked your neck, kissing and biting the skin there. Your grip on his shoulders tightened “Fuck Dean”

He moved down your neck, kissing across your clothed chest before looking up at you through those long lashes. He held your eyes as he rolled one breast into his mouth, grazing the sensitive bud with his teeth and enjoying when your breath caught in your throat. His hands slipped under you and you felt the bra give way before he was pulling it off of you and tossing it, giving him full access to your chest.

“Look at you” he whispered, tongue flicking out to tease at one of your nipples while his fingers of his other hand teased the other. Your fingers slid into his hair, eyes fluttering shut at the pleasure coursing through you.

He bit down on your nipple and when your eyes flew open he smirked “Cmon baby I'm just starting. I want your eyes on me” “So damn bossy” you teased and he winked at you “You must like me being bossy” “I love it” you admitted watching him kiss down your stomach.

When he got to your jeans he looked up at you “Are you sure about this? About us?” You rolled your eyes and lifted your hips off the bed as you unzipped your jeans and started to shimmy them down your hips. He laughed lightly before you felt his hands cover yours as he helped you rid your legs of your jeans then slid your panties off as well.

—-----------

“Look at my girl” he whispered in awe. “All yours Dean. What are you gonna do with me now that you've got me?” The look he gave you was enough to make your entire body feel like you were on fire. The promises there, the desire, the love. “Devour you” his voice was somehow deeper than usual, lust driving it down.

He started at one ankle, kissing up your leg then your thighs stopping just shy of where you wanted him. When you let out a rather pathetic sounding whine he just laughed darkly “I've waited long enough to have you like this, let me enjoy it”

He moved to the other leg, repeating the process. This time when he got where you wanted him he glanced up at your face before lowering his mouth to you. The first lick was tentative, teasing but when your hips bucked and a moan of his name fell from your lips it was like a switch flipped. He dove in, a perfect mixture of teeth and tongue working you closer and closer to that edge.

He slipped first one finger then added a second,easily finding that spot inside of you that made your legs begin to shake. When his lips locked around your clit at the same time his fingers found that spot your eyes rolled back and your vision went white. The pleasure was like nothing you'd ever experienced, waves after waves of it washing over you as Dean pulled two orgasms back to back from you.

—-------------

When you weakly shoved at his shoulders he pulled back,leaving feather light kisses on your inner thighs “What's wrong sweetheart? Too much?” You wanted to glare at him but knew it wouldn't be very believable. “How the fuck did you do that?” He grinned “Guess no other man has ever made you come back to back before?” You shook your head and he laughed “Good”

You shook your head and reached for his shoulders “C'mere” he kissed his way back up to your body and when he got to your lips you could taste yourself on him. “Your jeans are still on!” You nearly whined and he laughed “Let me fix that”

—--------------

He stood up and when he moved to unzip his jeans and push them off his hips you stopped him from climbing back onto the bed. You sat up and reached for him. He moved closer and when your hand slipped under the material of his boxers to wrap around his hard cock he swore under his breath. You slid the boxers down his legs and he stepped out of them.

You'd always figured Dean was well endowed but seeing it, feeling it in your hand was different. You lowered your mouth to the tip, licking around the head to collect the precum then pulling more of him into your mouth. Your hand worked what of him you couldn't fit as you swirled your tongue over the vein running up his shaft. His head fell back with a groan, his fingers went to your hair, pushing it back from your face, holding it back.

You could feel the tension in his hips so you tapped his hips letting him know it was ok. He gave a tentative thrust of his hips and when you hollow out your cheeks to allow more of him down your throat he moaned “Fuck you're perfect” he gave a few hard thrusts into your mouth and you took it, swallowing around him and feeling him tense.

“Fuck baby” he pulled out of your mouth with a wet pop, using his thumb to swipe the spit from your chin “That was amazing but I don't plan to come anywhere expect inside of you tonight”

—-------------

You scooted back up the bed and he climbed between your legs settling himself there. You could feel his cock nudging at your inner thigh, he hesitated “You're sure?” You nearly growled “Dean Winchester. I fucking love you, I want this I want you! Now for the love of everything fuck me already”

He laughed lightly and in one roll of his hips buried himself inside of you. You gasped at the fullness you felt, the stretch from how long it'd been since you were with someone else and just how big he was. He left a trail of open mouthed kisses across your jaw.

After a moment the stretch gave way so you let your legs fall apart further before hooking them around his waist. He took that as the go ahead and gave a deep roll of his hips, when the answer was your nails biting into his shoulders he placed a searing kiss against your lips before moving to press his forehead against yours.

There was something so damn intimate about looking into his eyes while he was so damn deep inside of you. “This is real, isn't it?” He asked and you moved one hand from his shoulder to cup his jaw, understanding the underlying question “It's real Dean. You're here with me”

He turned his head to kiss the palm of your hand “I love you” you moved your hand back to his shoulder and he kiss you, this one wasn't as hungry as others but it made down to your toes tingle and he gave a hard thrust hitting that spot inside of you with the head of his cock.

—--------------

When your back arched up, pressing your breasts into his chest his thrusts started to get harder and deeper. “Please don't stop” you begged, the pleasure building in your stomach threatening to steal your vision yet again. “Wasn't planning on it” he said, pulling your legs up to his shoulders and nearly folding you in half.

The new angle had you practically screaming his name. The knowledge that he was strong enough to manhandle you like you were nothing drove you crazy. His cock was so damn big and the angle meant he was hitting that spot with every damn thrust. The pleasure was so intense it was borderline pain but better than anything you'd ever experienced.

His hips snapped into yours and you could feel how close you were. His fingers found your clit, rubbing tight circles “Let me feel you baby. I'm so damn close but I need to feel you”

You felt that pleasure burst as your vision went soft around the edges and a hoarse scream of his name fell from your lips. You could feel his thrusts begin to falter so you gripped his shoulders tightly “Fuck Dean, i want to feel you. Please baby” his face was buried in the bend of your neck and when he buried himself inside of you with one final thrusts the feeling of him coming made a smaller orgasm wash over you, causing your walls to clench down around his cock causing a curse of your name to fall from his lips as well.

—-----------------

He gently eased your legs down, rubbing them gently before pulling out of you. You gasped and he smiled almost shyly “Sorry” you grinned at him sleepily “That was everything Dean”

His smile deepened before he placed a tender kiss on your lips “Let me clean you up a bit” he found his shirt and cleaned you up as best as he could before tossing it at the hamper in the corner.

—-----------

When he climbed back in bed next to you he asked “Do you need anything? Water? Bodypart massaged?” You shook your head and moved over to be laying halfway on his chest “Just need you to hold me” He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead. You were almost asleep before a thought occurred to you and you started laughing.

You looked up to see he was staring at you like you'd grown a second head “Baby are you ok?” You nodded “There's like thirty hunters here that probably heard that”

He grinned “Well at least they clearly know you're mine and I'm yours” you grinned “damn right. Now kiss your girl so we can both get some sleep” “Yes ma'am” he replied pulling you into a kiss.

Tagging those who told me to write it lol @deans-baby-momma @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @daughterofapollo-7 @littlemadamred

#dean winchester smut #dean winchester x female!reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction

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succubusmunson · 10 months

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Blood Sport

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: No matter how fast you run or how good you hide, Eddie will always find you and claim you as his prize.

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), kas/vamp!eddie, reader being hunted, cnc, eddie calling reader bunny, pet names, name calling, blood, blood consumption, lord of biting, teasing, begging, mocking, spanking, face and pussy slapping, oral (f and m receiving), ball play, rimming (f receiving), fingering, panties used as gag, overstimulation, slight orgasm denial, unprotected sex, creampie

WC: 5.5K

(i hope y’all enjoy this wild ride!)

REMEMBER TO REBLOG AND SUPPORT THE AUTHOR!

Your bare feet mushed into the muddy ground below you, adrenaline shooting through you and taking full control of your body. You had no clue where you were going, just anywhere to get away from him.

He had whispered the word run in your ears, and you took off and never looked back like your life had depended on it. Soon enough, he’ll be after you, tracking you like some wild animal.

The forest may have been huge, but at this moment, it’s never felt so small. There weren't many places to hide, trees only covering you so much, and no sheds to bunker down in. He would find you eventually, taking you as his prize. Even during the thick night air, he could still see your form running from him. The hunt of it all was the best part, the anticipation of when you would get caught made you run a little slower.

Eddie gave you a head start, even though he always seemed to catch up no matter how far ahead of him you were. You could be seconds or minutes away, and before you knew it, it would be right behind you, taunting you.

You could hear him now, his heavy boots stomping closer and closer to you.

“Come out, come out wherever you are, bunny.” His voice dripped with lust and need. The deepness of his voice had goosebumps forming over your skin, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. If he caught you, the game would be over. You’d be his prize, and he would take you however he wanted, wherever he wanted. “You can’t hide forever, not when I can smell you.”

And he was right. You were sweaty, sure to have blood scratches from thorn bushes, and soaked from the muggy air. He could smell you no matter how far you got. Your scent always lingered, keeping you close.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and your lungs burned from running, but you couldn’t stop now. Just a little longer, and you could rest, let your body relax for just a moment.

“Why don’t you be nice and come out to play?” You hid behind a tree, hoping to be out of his view completely.

You held a hand over your mouth, trying to suppress how noisy your deep breaths of air were.

The fallen branches from trees crunched under his feet; the moon illuminated his giant shadow. Eddie was close, but you had the chance to get away, to slip out from underneath him.

He came face to face with you, his eyes red and his fangs shining in the moonlight. “Gotcha!”

You took off running, slipping on the wet ground below you. He had caught you too soon, but you still had a lot of fight left in you.

“Get back here, bunny!” Eddie’s voice boomed over the window and night animals. You almost stopped dead in your tracks, but you couldn’t give up that easily.

You ducked behind a bush, looking through the twigs to try and see how close he was to you. Now that you got to rest for a quick minute is when you realize just how much your feet and legs hurt. Your breaths were coming out in fast pants. Maybe you didn’t have as much fight as you thought you did.

Eddie was nowhere in your line of sight, and you thought that maybe he had taken off in another direction. That was until you felt a hot breath fan over your ear and a deep chuckle.

“You think you can get away from me that easily?” His big arms wrapped around you, pulling you off from the ground. You wailed, threw punches against his chest, anything to get away though the punches did nothing, didn’t stir him one bit.

He covered your mouth and slammed the front of you against a tree, the bark pinching and scraping at your face. “Naughty little thing, running from me like that.”

“P-please…” you looked to the side at him, your voice muffled, your eyes big, round, and full of innocence. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

Eddie runs the tip of his nose up the nape of your neck, inhaling your scent more. “Now that I’ve got you in my arms, I can smell just how soaked you really are.” He bunches your dress around your waist, his cold fingers ghosting over the warm skin of your thighs, and pulls your flimsy panties to the side. The crisp night air hits your exposed cunt, sending a shiver down your spine. “Bet my cock would slide so easily into your pretty, little cunt, yeah?”

Your blood was coursing through your veins, and Eddie could hear it. He ran his tongue over his sharp teeth, debating on taking a bite. One small bite couldn’t hurt, could it?

Without a second thought, Eddie sunk his teeth into your neck. He sucked, just enough to get the smallest test of your sweet, crimson blood. Another small bite here, another small bite there, nothing too serious to hurt you. He let out a long, low groan that vibrated his chest.

Your blood trickled down your neck as you moaned and whimpered. This shouldn’t be feeling as good as it did. Eddie licked up the small amount of blood, making sure to get every last drop, his tongue pressed against your skin. The pain mixed with pleasure made your cunt drip, your thighs becoming stickier than before.

That didn’t go unnoticed either, Eddie catching on quickly. One of his thick fingers dipped inside your cunt before quickly slipping out. “Just as I thought, you love the pain.”

When you looked at him, you noticed his stained teeth and lips, your blood dripping from them, making them all shiny.

You whined and closed your eyes, trying to think about anything other than him. Eddie was giving in to what your body needed, what it craved. Your body was betraying you. This isn’t what you wanted, or was it? The smallest touch of his fingers had your pussy clenching around nothing, aching to be filled and pumped full of cum.

“Oh, so you wanna be full of cum?” Eddie’s nails raked up and down your thigh, taking his finger and barely rubbing against your swollen clit.

You gasped, digging your fingers into the tree you were pushed up against. “N-no. I just…”

“N-No? You sound so pathetic, bunny.” He mocked your whines with a smirk. “Just say you do. There’s no denying just how bad you want me when your cunt is dripping for me.”

You tried to shake your head, but he pressed it more into the tree. “Let me go, please.” Tears welled in your eyes, slowly falling down your cheeks. “I won’t tell a soul.”

“Oh, sweetheart, don’t cry. You know that just makes me wanna fuck you more,” Eddie pressed his body into yours, his hard, clothed cock against your bare ass. You could feel it throb against you, your body instinctively grinding against him. “I’m going to have so much fun with you, and you’re going to take it all.”

Shaking your head, you tried to push away from him, but it was no use. Eddie had super strength; you weren’t going anywhere. You were stuck, and you had to give in and let him do whatever was on his dark mind.

“Yes, sir.” Your voice was weak, strained.

You watched as he retracted his large hand before coming back down with a hard spank on your ass. Your skin jiggled, your mouth falling agape. “Speak up.”

“Y-yes! Yes, sir.”

“Shit, you’re already following rules so easily.” Eddie finally let up, pulling your body away from the tree. He spun you around so that now you were facing his tall form. “On your knees, pretty girl.”

He didn’t give you time to act, putting his hand on the top of your head and pushing you down. You quickly fell to your knees, the leaves crunching under them.

With shaky hands, you reached up for his belt, slowly undoing it. Eddie watched you with his dark eyes. Seeing how nervous you were only made him harder, his cock twitching in his jeans.

You ran your hand over the prominent bulge, dragging your nails across it. Eddie took a deep inhale, his chest heaving. It was taking everything out of him not to rush you, but he wanted to take his time with you and let it all linger.

Your hands worked on the zipper and button next. The pounding in your heart was harder, faster. His cock was so close to being down your throat, and your mouth watered for it.

Slowly, you pulled down his pants, taking his boxers with them, just enough for his cock and balls to hang out. His cock sprang forward, tip an angry red and leaking with precum. You watched as he spat into his hand and wrapped it around his cock. The precum kept bubbling out his slit, dribbling down his knuckles as he pumped his cock with his hand, the schlick sound becoming louder.

You couldn’t help but lick your lips.

Eddie grabbed the base of his cock, rubbing the tip along your lips, smearing the precum. “You take too fucking long.” He nudged his cock past your lips, rubbing it along your waiting tongue.

You whined as he shoved his cock in your mouth, your tongue gliding along the thick vein that rested on the underside. The salty taste of his precum flooded your taste buds.

“Shh, shh,” he ran a soothing thumb down your cheek before holding your head in place. “You just sit there and look pretty while I fuck your face, okay?”

Before you knew it, his cock was fully seated in your throat, and you were gagging around it, spit blubbering out the corners of your mouth. More tears spilled down your cheeks, coating them in smeared mascara.

“Fuuuck- such a good mouth, just had to put it to use.” Eddie slowly thrust his hips back and forth, his cock fucking in and out of your mouth. You couldn’t help but close your eyes and get lost in the feeling of the tip gliding across your tongue. “You like this, don’t you? Being used like my own personal fleshlight?”

You tried to answer, opening your mouth wider, but all that came out were whines and gags. Tears kept falling down your cheeks, drool dripping down your cheek. Eddie’s cock was making your throat raw, and you could already feel the burn that would surely linger there for days to come. You wouldn’t be surprised if there was already a bruise forming.

“What was that?” He guided your head down his cock, your nose now pressed against the small thatch of curls at the base of his cock and his balls wetly pressed against your chin. “Shit- Couldn’t hear you with my cock stuffed down your throat.”

He squeezed his eyes shut as he held you in place, letting his cock drag in and out of your mouth. Your gags and the soft squelch of your throat contracting around him echoed into the night. Nothing would ever feel as good as your pussy, but this was a close second for him.

Your nails dug into his clothed thigh, inaudibly begging for some air. When Eddie pulled your mouth off his cock, salvia strung from your lips to the tip, mixing perfectly with his precum.

Eddie ran a hand down your cheeks, wiping away the tears that ran down your face. You looked so pretty when you cried for him, whether it was from all his teasing or his cock being shoved into one of your holes. He loved to see you cry for him.

Deep breaths filled your lungs, and you sighed at the bit of relief you felt. The relief didn’t last long, though. Eddie was guiding your face toward his cum filled balls, dragging them over your lips.

“Open up for me, baby. J-just like that.” Eddie had to brace a hand against the tree when you took the heavy sack into your warm mouth, rolling your wet tongue over the velvety skin. He could’ve cum right then and there. “You’re doing such a good job for me, yeah? Just a good little slut for me to use.”

You moaned around his balls in appreciation before sucking them into your mouth. Your tongue cradled them as you slobbered, your spit dripping down your chin and onto your chest.

Pulling back, you let his balls fall from your mouth long enough to spit on them. You reached up and cradled them in your hand for a moment, rolling them around your fingers before you sucked them back into your mouth. The whole time, your eyes never left Eddie’s. You wanted him to see you, watch you.

“Jesus Christ, look at you.” Eddie took his spit-covered cock in his hand, slowly stroking it over your face. He ground his hips against you, the sensitive tip of his cock rubbing against your forehead, precum bubbling out of the slit and into your hair. “Gonna make me fucking cum all over that pretty face of yours, bunny.”

His balls fell deeper into your mouth, your throat gargling around them. That was the moment that he lost control.

Eddie pulled your head away and looked down at your swollen lips, tongue out, ready to catch every drop and tear-stained face. He squeezed at the tip of his cock before throwing his head back with a sharp inhale. Cum shot from the slit. His hips stuttered as his hand shook, “shit, shit!”

Your tongue caught what it could, not swallowing until Eddie could see what a good job you did. The rest hit your face, covering your chin and cheeks.

He slowly looked back down at you, a proud smile on his face. “Swallow. All of it.”

You downed every drop, making a show of it and licking your lips once you were done.

“Let’s clean you up.” Eddie collected what had fallen on your face with his rough fingers before sliding them into your mouth. You sucked them clean, making sure nothing went to waste.

“What do you say?”

“T-thank you, sir.” You shyly looked up at him. You’d do anything to please him.

He shoved his still-hard cock back into its confines before shrugging off his jacket and laying it on the ground beside you. You caught on to what he was wanting and laid down on his jacket, your legs bent at the knees.

“Don’t even have to tell you what I want anymore,” he lay on the ground, his face right next to your aching cunt. “She’s ready for anything, isn’t she?”

You felt Eddie slowly drug your panties down your legs. Once they were completely off, you closed your legs back, sitting up on your elbows. “Wait, wait.”

Eddie jumbled up your panties and reached an arm up to shove them in your mouth. “Sometimes you talk too damn much.” The same arm that shoved the panties in your mouth also shoved you back down to his jacket, forcing you still.

To take extra measure, he grabbed both of your wrists and held them in his rough, strong hand. He was making sure that you could get away or take your panties out of your mouth.

You had no protest at all because once your back hit the jacket, Eddie had your legs gripped tightly in his hands, the air from his lungs blowing against your swollen clit.

“Mmm- mmm,” you tried to moan, but the sounds were completely muffled by your panties.

“Just relax,” he bit at your thighs, switching back and forth between them. You could feel the blood trickle down to the ground below you, but not before Eddie was licking it up. He let the blood linger on his tongue, savoring just how good you tasted before swallowing it. “As much as I’d love to drain you dry, I’d much rather keep you alive, so I slowly drink from you.”

All you could do was whine and dig your fingers into the palm of your hands. He had barely touched you, and you were already silently begging for more. Every part of you ached for some kind of friction, a touch, a rub, anything at this point.

Eddie watched as you clenched around nothing, looking for him to touch you. He thought it was cute how much your body wanted him.

Just as you were about to beg (as much as you could with your panties in your mouth), Eddie licked a long strip up your cunt, from your needy hole to your clit. Your head fell back against his jacket as you let out a deep exhale.

“Can’t get enough of that taste,” again and again, he licked at your clit, just enough pressure to have you whining. “You want more, huh?”

God, you wanted to scream at the top of your lungs how much you needed more.

“Oh, that’s right,” he kissed around your clit, smirking against you when you let out a frustrated huff. “You can’t talk.”

Deciding that you had enough teasing for now, Eddie finally wrapped his plump lips around your clit. A deep moan was pulled from you, and your eyes rolled back at the pleasure you were finally able to feel.

Your nails dig deeper into your hands the more he sucks on your clit, his teeth grazing it, making you arch your back. The palms of your hands were sure to be bright red tomorrow. You wish you could moan louder, let him hear just how he was making you feel, but he knew. Your cunt was soaked, dripping on his jacket below. It was so easy for him to see how good you were feeling.

“Every part of you tastes so fucking amazing.” Lick, lick, lick. “Your cunt, your ass, your blood.” He used his thumbs to spread your pussy lips apart, licking his lips when your slick strung between them.

Eddie dove back, licking all over your cunt, soaking his face in you. Your muffled moans grew louder with each lick and suck. Somehow, you were already close, and Eddie knew, could feel it in the throb of your clit. That only egged him on more.

He slid his tongue into your beckoning cunt, making sure to swirl it around. Your chest heaved, and the pounding in your heart felt harder. Eddie moaning against you didn’t help at all—the vibrations making your head spin in the best way.

Eddie's skilled tongue was making sure you were going to cum on his face, licking deeper than you ever thought possible and fucking in and out of you so fast that you you couldn’t focus on anything. His nose nudged at your clit and it was taking everything out of you not to rip your hands from his and pull on his hair.

Your thighs had started to shake, and he let your hands go. He used both hands to run up the back of the thighs before bending your knees into your chest, giving him more room to do whatever he wanted to your cunt.

Eddie dipped his tongue lower, circling it around your puckered hole. Your hole clenched around his tongue, wanting him to go deeper. You screamed around your panties as the tip of his tongue dipped inside you over and over again.

Shaky fingers raked through his hair before pulling, trying to get him as close to you as possible.

Eddie licked back and forth between your cunt and ass before he took your clit back into his mouth and shook his head back and forth. His eyes never left yours, even when your cunt was in your mouth. He wanted to see you come undone on his face.

One more hard suck at your clit was all it took before you were cumming all over his face. Your cries were muffled, your legs shaking in Eddie’s hand. You couldn’t focus on anything other than your orgasm running through your body, making each hair stand up and your back arch so far off the jacket below you that you could almost reach the night sky.

“Mmmmph!” Your hips ground against Eddie's face as you kept cumming, and he didn’t stop, even once you were finished. Your whole body felt like it was on fire in the best way.

Eddie groaned loudly against your cunt. The feeling of your cum against his tongue and face was enough to have his cock twitching in his pants, making a mess of them.

You ripped your panties from your mouth and threw them somewhere behind you, not caring where they ended up. “E-Eddie!”

He pulled away, the moon making your cum shine on his face. “Sound like an angel when you say my name.” His fingers circled your cunt, making you gasp. You were already so sensitive from one orgasm, but you knew he was just getting started. “Too bad you’re nothing but a needy slut.”

Eddie’s hand left your cunt, reaching up to the top of your dress, it now bunched around your belly and pulled it down enough so that your tits fell out. Your nipples immediately hardened, the cold air making them stiff.

“Look so good like this,” he slowly kissed up your body, making sure to bite every so often. Eddie stopped at your hips, biting at each one until he was sure they’d stung.

Once Eddie had kissed his way to your chest, he took one nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue softly around it. His fingers squeezed and pulled at the other nipple, pulling the cutest whimpers from you.

You bit your lip when you felt his teeth dig into your nipple and pull on it before letting it go. “Feels so good.”

“Of course it does.” He forced your legs back open with his hand, sliding his fingers through your sticky pussy lips. You gasped, grabbing ahold of his wrist. “Awe, you wanna cum again?”

You nodded your head quickly, barely letting him finish his question. “Yes, I wanna cum as many times as you’ll let me.”

“How cute.” Slap! Your cunt stung, his rings catching against your clit, and you tried to close your legs, but Eddie was much stronger than you. Slap! “Beg for it.”

“Fucking- Eddie, please! I’ll do-

Slap! Slap! Slap! “I don’t wanna hear how you do anything I’ll say. Think of something better.”

More tears flowed down your cheek for another time tonight as you tried to think of the words to stay. You didn’t know what to say, you just knew you wanted to cum again, and you were getting impatient.

“Just- please! I’ll be such a good slut for you, and I promise to let you do whatever you want to me. Just let me cum again.”

“Now, was that so hard?” Eddie finally slid his fingers into your waiting cunt, and you immediately clenched around them.

“Thank you, thank you.” You spread your legs further, making it easier for him to slot himself back between them.

His fingers curled right against your g-spot, and you could already feel your second orgasm fast approaching. “You’re about to cum this quick?” Eddie tutted at you, curling his fingers over and over again. “Better hold it in.”

“I-I can't, I can't!” You shook your head, your toes already curling.

With a heavy hand, Eddie smacked each of your thighs, immediately causing them to burn in such a blissful way. “You can and you will.”

Eddie knew how badly you wanted to cum, and he also knew how to skillfully use his fingers to edge you and make you hold it in. You were sure that if you didn’t listen, the inevitable would happen, and you wouldn’t cum again.

“Now, are you gonna listen and hold it in? Or do I have to stop touching you all together?” His fingers slowed down as he waited for you to answer.

“I’ll hold it in!” You grit your teeth, trying to find a distraction while Eddie toys with your sopping-wet cunt.

You could hear how wet you were, your pussy squelching around Eddie’s fingers the more they pumped in and out of you. His pace was slow, making sure to drag at the pleasure, helping you hold your orgasm at bay as long as you could.

“Whose pussy is this, huh?” Eddie had moved so his whole body weight was pressed into you, his forehead resting against yours. “I wanna hear you fucking say it.”

“Y-yours.” Your voice was weak as you stumbled on the words, finding it hard to focus when his fingers felt so good.

“You’re gonna have to speak up, bunny.” He pulled his fingers out of your cunt long enough to slap your cunt again. You were sure that it was going to be bruised in the morning.

“Yours! It’s your fucking pussy, sir- oh my god!” You were so sensitive, so needy that you almost came right then and there.

Easily, his fingers slid back into you, your eyes rolling back. You clenched around them, your orgasm fast approaching again. “Eddie…”

As soon as he felt you were about to cum again, he pulled his fingers out. You watched as they dripped in your juices, hitting your thigh.

“Open up for me,” Eddie traced his wet fingers against your soft lips, waiting patiently. He dragged his fingers across your tongue, making you clean up the mess you made on them. “Don’t you taste so good?”

You wrapped your lips around his fingers, bobbing your head as your tongue swirled around them. Your doe eyes looked up at him as they silently begged him to fill you up again with his fingers, giving you a chance to cum.

“How can I say no to those beautiful eyes?” Eddie’s fingers trailed down your body, tracing over your nipples before dipping lower and lower. They ghosted over your clit, rubbing just enough for you to feel something. “This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?”

“Yes- oh fuck.” He caught you off guard, sliding in three thick fingers and filling you up just like you wanted. Your cunt sucked in his fingers, tightening round them. “R-right there.”

The pads of his fingers rubbed perfectly against your g-spot, making you see stars behind your eyelids. “Right here?” Teasingly, he grazed his fingers over the spot again, and you couldn’t hang on any longer.

You were so sensitive from your first orgasm that this one was coming fast. There was no stopping it this time.

Your legs clamped around his arm as you heard yourself cum before you felt it. You gushed around his hand, soaking everything below you and Eddie in the process. You bit at your lip so hard you could taste blood. “Fuck- Eddie!”

His name left your mouth like a repeated prayer, his fingers not stopping until you felt your juices drip down the crack of your ass.

“Shit, look at the mess you made.” Eddie pulled his fingers from your overly sensitive cunt, watching as they dripped more than they did before. The sheen of your cum shined brightly in the moonlight.

You watched with bright eyes as he pulled out his cock and balls again, it still leaking with precum. Your mouth watered at the sight before you.

One of Eddie’s hands ran up your body, stopping to tightly wrap his fingers around your neck. “You know you made me cum in my pants while I was eating you out?” His other hand grabbed the base of your cock, dragging in through your wet folds. “Now it’s my turn to cum and fill up your pussy just like you wanted.”

You whimpered at his words, reaching down to spread your pussy lips apart as the tip of his cock caught on your clit. “God, yes, I've been needing it so bad.”

“Is that so?” Eddie barely slid the tip in, but it was enough for the both of you to moan in unison. “Will never get over how tight your pussy is, bunny.”

The hand wrapped around your throat had you gasping for air, but you just smirked. “Please, fuck me.”

“You want to be filled with my cum that bad?” Eddie grabbed hold of your hip, lifting you off his jacket so you were resting in his lap. “Work for it.”

You couldn’t help but moan at his words as you slowly started to grind your hips against his. Your body weight was on your hands as you used them for leverage.

His cock moved slowly in and out of you, Eddie’s eyes never leaving where the two of you were connected. “Look how good you take my cock.”

Eddie helped you and guided your hips back and forth, his jeans roughly rubbing against your ass. “Can’t give everything to you easily, can I?”

Your head rolled back as you whined out for him. The slow drag of his cock was just enough to set your body on fire. “A-am I doing good for you, sir?”

“Doing so good, just keep doing that, sweetheart.” His hand tightened around your neck as you gasped for air, your hips still grinding against him. “Just taking what you want from me, aren’t you, slut?”

“F-fuck, uhuh!” The burning in your hips started, but that didn’t stop you. The squeeze of his hand around your neck and the throbbing of his cock inside of you egged you on. “Oh my god!”

“Pussy was made for my fucking cock.” Eddie spat on your cunt, his thumb rubbing it along your clit. “Gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

His thumb kept rubbing at your clit as your cunt ground back and forth along his cock. You’d leave only the tip in before slamming down on the rest of his cock. The two of you groaned and moaned in unison, both close to cumming.

Your tits bounced with the grind of your hips, Eddie’s eyes transfixed on them as if you had him in some sort of spell.

“You’re a fucking goddess.” His eyes trailed up your neck, stopping to look and admire your face. Your lips were plump from all the biting, sweat beading on your forehead. “You look so good when you're fucked out, drunk on my cock.”

You couldn’t say anything, words completely leaving you. Your mind was complete mush, his cock the only thing on it. At this point, you’d say anything to him just to cum.

Eddie’s hand let go of your neck to slap your face, bringing you back to him. “Feels too good, doesn’t it?” His smirk is brighter than it has been before.

“Y-yes,” you ground your hips faster, chasing your release. “Your cock feels so good!”

Both of his hands pinned your hips back to the ground, pulling out. You whined but quickly shut up when he slammed back into your cunt. Your whines now turn into pleasurable screams.

“I can’t take it anymore.” His hips crash into yours at a bruising pace, his balls wetly hitting against your ass. “I got fucking cum.”

You arched your back, grabbing his hands and squeezing them as you kept screaming. “Please turn me, Eddie- please!”

Eddie looked down at you, his cock bulging in your belly with each thrust. Your words replayed over and over in his head, the thought making his cock throb hard inside you. “Bunny- Shit! Gonna cum in this pretty pussy.”

“Give it to me, Eddie.” You wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, pulling him deeper inside you. “Need you to cum inside me, fill me up until it's dripping out.”

His eyes got darker as he leaned down, attaching his lips to your neck. What started as sloppy kisses turned into a hard bite. His teeth puncture your sweaty skin, your blood seeping into his mouth.

Your toes curled, and you pulled on his hair, the bite being enough to make you cum so hard your body convulses. You couldn’t see anything, your vision going totally white. “I-oh, my god! Oh my fuck- Eddie!”

Eddie groaned loudly against your skin as he finally pulled his teeth from the two holes that adorned your neck. The taste of your blood, the clenching of your cunt as you came around his cock. He couldn’t take it anymore. You can feel his hard pants against your neck and his cock cumming inside you with a twitch.

He whispered your name as he kept cumming, spilling everything he had inside you. “That’s it, take it fucking all.”

Your cunt milked him for all he was worth.

The only thing heard over the animals in the night was heavy breathing, the two of you spent.

Your body felt sore, weak, and used by the time Eddie had pulled out of you, causing you to wince at the sensation. You couldn’t see him, too tired to open your eyes, but you could hear him move around you, fixing your dress so it sat just right and picking you up so he could cradle you into his arms.

You felt weak, the bite on your neck stinging more than it had before.

“I promise that you’ll feel better in the morning,” Eddie placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. The total opposite of how he was just acting with his cock inside you. “Just rest for now.”

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fic #vamp!eddie #kas!eddie #vamp!eddie x reader #kas!eddie x reader

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rainbowchaox · 1 year

Text

This has been said before but it’s so funny being a Philza main during the whole Qsmp egg event beacuse Philza really got bitch slapped by the parental Instincts so much that he legit left his bed at 3 just to care for a block game egg son.

Like at the start Missa and him were all like chayanne gonna be the best and he is the best and everyone is screaming in the background. The fact that they gave chayanne a sword first thing as parents and whoever plays chayanne immediately deciding ah yes this will be a core trait of me.

The fact that like Philza like every second calls chayanne the best and his son and good job whenever at times chayanne does something. (I swear chayanne could just breathe at this point and Philza would be like UUUUUUUEEE good job). But at the same time training his son to be as much a menace as he can.

The fact that Philza posted that thing on Twitter which if you just blocked out his name would fit perfectly in someone blog here. And Philza immediately looking at tasks and is like I can do more. And makes a whole video game basement and like decides to make his son house a atomic bunker like you do. Gotta love me overprotective dad (well it’s more protective dad because slime showed him it was good)

Like it’s so domestic and cute (still can’t believe that Philza really decided to rp being a husband while his irl wife laughs in the back ground) and both Missa and Philza are so ducking attached.

Then you check out someone else’s stream and it’s CHILD NEGLECT and WARCRIMES and DANGER and OOO DAD CHEATED And it’s like such a whiplash. I love it.

#look the sinfonia-Minecraft family makes me unwell #i love them your honor #Like Philza is my fave but unionically one of the good dads on the server #missasinfonia #philza #qsmp chayanne #qsmp eggs #Qsmp

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tempestuous-lush · 1 year

Text

spitfire || joel miller x f!reader

summary: Joel finds you in a less than ideal situation, and things evolve from there.

warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, oral (female receiving), gunshot wound, past sexual trauma, blood, knife wound, there may be things missing please let me know

word count: 6,011 k....this is officially the longest piece I've written.

misc: you have @grippingbeskar to thank for this everyone, lol. If you don't read her things I promise you that you should. They're AMAZING.

Also this is the first thing I've written start to finish in a LONG while.

So please go easy on me.

18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI

You were pressing your spare shirt to your side, blood flowing past it.

“Ah, fuck.”

Your eyes were sharp as you looked through the wilderness, trying to catch sight of the two men who had been chasing you for some time now. In your free hand, your gun was readied…finger hovering over the trigger. Not spotting them, you stumbled through the trees to further distance yourself. You cursed inwardly though as you caught yourself on a tree, your blood smearing on the pale bark as a beacon for these two assholes on your trail.

Going a bit further, you spotted a cabin.

It wasn’t much but it would give you a place to bunker down and prepare yourself.

You could ready a defense.

Heading towards it you were relieved to find that the door was open. What didn’t make you feel good was spotting bundles of provisions. Someone was staying here.

You would deal with that later, you thought to yourself. Now was the time to be smart. You threw the locks on every window and the door as well. If they were wanting in they’d have to make some noise, which would only let you know where they were and as a result where to shoot.

The other problem that you had besides the two assholes chasing after you would be the wound on your side. Your eyes looked towards the boxes of supplies, hope rising in your chest as you spotted one with a scrawled handwriting. Medical. Knocking the box on top of it to the side, you looked into the crate and spotted some helpful items. You thanked whatever stranger owned this cabin, silently hoping you wouldn’t have to kill a third person after.

Taking your knife, you cut at the linen shirt you were wearing with your free hand, tentatively putting your gun down in order to do so. Then, taking a deep breath, you pulled the spare shirt back from the wound. You had an angry gunshot wound. You quickly stab your knife into the heavy oak top of the table and pull the cork out of a bottle of grain alcohol with your teeth, spitting it to the side and dousing your hands in it. Taking two deep breaths, you splash it on your wound and bite down hard at the urge to scream with the pain you are feeling. No need to hold their hands for them to find you.

Then, you got to work. You quickly stitched your wound shut, both entry and exit holes. It was a messy job but you just needed to slow the bleeding. You could fix it up better later.

With shaking hands, you ripped open the combat gauze and slapped that over the stitches, next taking another piece of gauze and quickly wrapping the tape around your torso to hold the bandaging in place.

There was no doubt, your adrenaline was all that was driving you at the moment.

And that was when you heard it. A low, long whistle sounded out through the trees outside. After a mere second, another one answered in response. You ducked down after retching your knife from the table and grabbed your gun. The impact hurt, and you could feel the blood begin to slowly trickle. A stitch popped. Fuck. You scurried across the floor, keeping low, and out of curiosity opened up an old deep freezer. You sighed in relief as you saw it was empty and climbed inside. Just as you silently shut the lid, the cabin door was kicked open.

Every sound in the cabin was muffled by your new hiding spot, but you heard one voice clear as day, “Dumb bitch must think she’s real smart, coming here.”

“Mmm, all this effort, I say we should have a little fun before we strip her for meat.”

Tears were welling in your eyes as you hid, your hand covering your mouth to hopefully hide any noises. At the same time, one of them sat on the lid of the deep freezer and you pointed your gun up. You knew he was there, but you weren’t sure exactly where he was sitting. If you shot and missed…they’d have you. Your thoughts were interrupted by the first one to talk replying, “Bet she’s got all sorts of fight in her, too. What do you think?”

“Think it’s been too long since I’ve gotten to stick my dick in something so nice.”

They both started laughing together, while you were struggling to not throw up.

Meanwhile, Joel was riding along one of the trails they set up traps along for rabbits, checking them for any give with Tommy beside him. They’d gotten lucky. Every last one but two had a rabbit to collect. Now, they were heading to the safehouse up ahead. Nothing fancy, just a small cabin they’d found. They’d store their rabbits there and try to maybe fell a deer or two. It was mating season, so they should absolutely be out in search.

Tommy was a few feet ahead and turned in his saddle to crack a joke at Joel’s expense when suddenly whatever he was going to say was interrupted by one gun shot, a pause, and then a rapid fire of more.

Joel spurred his horse on before Tommy, his senses still sharp after all of the bullshit he had to put up with recently. Tommy was right behind him though. Joel only had one worry. Ellie had a habit of slipping out of town because “there wasn’t shit to do”. This kid is going to be the death of me.

However, the first gunshot had come from you.

One of the two idiots had wrenched the deep freezer open and you muttered, “Surprise asshole.”

The bullet eviscerated his face and he fell on top of you. Sensing what was coming though, you stabbed the blade of your knife into his neck and twisted him with the force of your body so that he lay beside you. Just in time for his friend to unload bullets into the deep freezer, his friend’s body protecting you.

Once his clips sounded empty, you sat up and went to take a shot, not realizing your gun was also out of bullets. Fuck.

His friend huffed and walked over, grabbing your wrist as you slashed at him with your knife, bending it backwards till your dropped the blade. Next he grabbed a fistful of your hair before his fist came down and knocked you out cold.

What brought you back was the immense pain that shot from your right hand as he stabbed through it and into the table beneath you to help hold you in place. Your eyes flew open and you saw him there, nearly licking his fucking lips at the sight of you. You couldn’t help it. A sob escaped you. He chuckled, his hand running along the curve of your clothes and coming to rest at your side, “First ”- he punched you in the side, completely reopening your wound - “I’m gonna fuck you, then I’m gonna take the meat off your bones for food. What do you think of that, huh?”

At that moment you heard another voice, “Hey, asshole!”

The man’s head snapped in that direction, and in one last effort you reached up with your free hand and grabbed the knife handle. Pulling it free through your own flesh you launched yourself at the man and found a home for your blade in the side of his neck.

Joel was about to shoot his head clean up with his rifle when you sprung yourself free and sank an already bloody knife into the man’s neck. When his body dropped, Joel got a good glimpse at you.

He could see the blood soaked gauze still taped onto your side beneath your ripped shirt, a bruise blossoming angry and purple along your nose and right eye, and then his eyes caught sight of your hand. The blood was flowing freely from it and he realized why. The now dead man had pinned you to the table with the same knife you just killed him with. However, Joel also realized you must be close to shock and adrenaline pumping. So, he lowered his gun and held a hand up trying to show he didn’t mean harm. His voice came slow and assuredly, “My name is Joel…my brother Tommy is right outside the door. This is our cabin. We won’t hurt you. We…we can help you. What’s your name?”

“Fuck you.”

He huffed, “Alright then Miss…fuck you, was it? Why don’t you come on outside where we can get a good look at those wounds, patch you up? Get the dead one out of your sight.”

God, you wanted to trust him.

You so badly wanted to trust him, but the past four months with these two on your tail since the hospital…you didn’t think you could trust anyone. So, instead of walking towards Joel and the open door, you reached down for the knife and pulled it from asshole number one’s corpse that you took the liberty to spit on. After that, you slowly backed up. Joel tentatively took a step to follow you and you immediately stopped him in his tracks by whispering a frigid, “Don’t.”

You backed up to a window, fumbling with your injured hand to unlock it before opening it and you slowly began to slip out of it. That was when you remembered he said his brother Tommy. You only remembered that because you suddenly felt two arms wrap around your legs as you were halfway out. A slew of curses came rushing out of you and as you turned to slash with your knife, Joel grabbed hold of your hands to wrench your knife from you. The only difference between this and what transpired was Joel didn’t pick up the knife nor knock you. Rather, he shouted out, “Alright Tommy she’s clear.”

As your legs were pulled on and you clung to the window with your good hand, Joel had an almost sad look on his face. Like he was looking at an injured animal, “I promise you sweetheart, we aren’t gonna hurt you.”

That was when you landed a solid kick on Tommy’s jaw. He let go of you and you fell hard onto the ground, your ankle breaking on impact. A cry of pain escaped you as you heard Joel from inside, “Fucking hell. I’m coming around Tommy.”

As you tried to get away, crawling towards the tree line, you felt your vision blur and the ground began to spin. Your loss of blood was starting to get to you. You hit the ground, the taste of blood and dirt the last thing you registered before Joel made it to you.

Joel quickly stooped down to feel your pulse and was relieved to feel a beat, even though it was incredibly weak. He scooped you up in his arms. You weighed next to nothing. You’d need food after they fixed the main problems ahead. Joel walked over with you towards Tommy. As his brother got on his feet, Joel looked down at you and back at Tommy, “The fact that you let a near death woman get the jump on you little brother…”

“What can I say, she’s a spitfire.”

Ten months later and you had more than earned your nickname.

Joel was sipping on his drink, watching you dance underneath the lights, the excitement on your face at being able to use your ankle again damn near palpable.

He was surprised to learn you were a doctor before everything went to hell. It made sense though, the more he spoke to you. Your mind was a goddamn work horse that never stopped running. You’d made that clear once you recovered from the worst of it. You found a small two story building in town and got to work, making sure you had what you could to look after people. Joel remembered what you’d said that day, “It’s refreshing to find a piece of humanity left. If I can help…I will.”

You were in a god damn booted cast and recovering from god knows what, wielding a hammer and the sheer force of your enthusiasm. He could have sworn he loved you right then and there.

“Fucking Christ…”

Joel sipped at his drink at the thought he just had.

Love.

But then he looked at you again. Your hair fell in wild curls down your back as you spun around to the music playing, getting encouraged by the crowd. A couple guys hollered out, “Get it, doc!”

You let out a laugh and the smile lingered on your face and Joel felt the breath escape him as your eyes fell on him. Your eyes were the most beautiful thing he’d seen. They were large and questioning everything around them, as if they were already posing the thoughts that hadn’t reached your brain. The lashes around them were thick, making the color stand out even more. And maybe it was his imagination, but when they fell on him? The smile actually reached them.

The song ended, and you walked over towards him. You looked like a damn temptress wearing that damned sundress you had on. It was white, standing out against your sun kissed skin. Splashes of freckles decorated your shoulders and led his eyes to your collarbones. Joel followed the line of them to the strap of your dress tied around your neck, your chest straining against the slightly too tight fabric as you heaved quick breaths while recovering from the dance you had.

There were small purple flowers along the white bodice that gave way to a flowing purple skirt.

Taking a swig of drink, Joel chased away the thoughts he had of pinning you down and lifting that skirt up.

Right then you made it to him.

You had always felt comfortable around Joel, since coming to and finding yourself in town anyway. He was the first person in this new world that proved you could trust him. So, you pulled up a seat without thinking twice. You took his drink from his hand and gave it a sniff before reeling and dumping it on the ground, “You can thank me later. That stuff will burn your esophagus right out.”

“S’that right doc?”

“Yeah, that is right.”

The two of you sat there in comfortable silence for a moment as you caught your breath and your chest slowed. Letting out a bit of a yawn, you started loosely braiding your hair before tying it off.

“Christ…”

Joel had maybe a little too much to drink and when he saw you braiding your hair all he could think of was how it would feel to grab hold of it while taking you from behind. It wasn’t till you spoke that he realized he had said anything, “Pardon?”

“Nothing…just, how much did he have to drink to get up there and dance?”

You turned in your seat to see Tommy dancing…incredibly awful…and let out a small laugh before turning to look at Joel, “I don’t know, how much would you have to drink to get out there and dance?”

“Oh, that’s easy doc…it’ll never happen.”

“Is that so?”

“That it is, sweetheart.”

A slight blush spread along your cheeks. Joel typically didn’t call you things like sweetheart save for that first meet…but you found you liked the way it sounded.

“I’ll make a bet with you.”

“I’m not a betting man, darl” -

- “Bullshit.”

Joel chewed at the corner of his mouth for a moment before throwing his hands up in mock surrender, “Alright. Alright. What’s the bet?”

“Dance with me for five minutes. Or one song. And” – Joel was already showing disinterest – “And if you hate it, I have to go on three scavenging trips with you. And if you don’t hate it, I get the satisfaction of knowing that one surly Joel Miller likes to dance deep down, yeah?”

You could see him contemplating it on his face before he huffed and nodded, “Yeah, okay darlin’.”

You could get used to the way he was calling you darlin’.

You took hold of Joel’s hand and slowly brought him out to the dance floor and it was not lost on a damned soul. However, his eyes were solely on you. The way you glanced over your shoulder at him, that bottom lip caught between your teeth as you smiled with mischief, it was like his heart stopped. And then, the music shifted to something slower. As you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, Joel’s hands instinctively fell on your waist. The two of you began moving, and you could feel every stroke of his thumb against your waist even through your dress. It felt electric.

Joel huffed as the two of you swayed there, before the music started to come to an end. It was too soon for the song to stop, if he were honest with himself. His voice was low, “I suppose this wasn’t so b”-

You weren’t sure where your boldness came from. But something in that moment had you pull him towards you, his lips crashing into yours. As the shock wore off, just as you were thinking you made a mistake, Joel’s arms snaked around your waist with one hand traveling up your back till it cupped the back of your neck. His lips suddenly became needy against yours and as you opened your mouth to his, his tongue joined yours as your hands found his hair and began grabbing fistfuls of it.

That was when shrill whistling and yelps cut through the bubble the two of you were in, and you immediately broke the kiss and buried your face in his shirt. Your embarrassment took over, and without looking at him you found yourself rushing outside.

Joel stood there for a few moments, dumbfounded by what just happened.

Running his hand over his jaw, he quickly nodded to no one in particular and headed off after you.

When he found you though, it was in a way he did not expect.

You were sitting on the swing of your front porch, crying with your knees drawn up to your chest.

“I know I’m a bit rough around the edges, but I can’t say that I’ve ever made a girl cry from a kiss.” Even as you laughed a bit, he waited for you to give him an okay to approach. Sniffling, you scooted over before waving for him to join you.

“I’ve never told, have I, why those men were chasing me that day, did I?”

Joel reached an arm around your shoulders and gave a gentle tug so that you’d get closer. It wasn’t lost on him how easily you fit there. Only once you did lean into him, though, did he answer, “No. Never wanted to ask. Figured you’d tell me if and when you wanted to.”

“Well, Joel, I was married before this, for starters.”

As you let out a deep breath, Joel’s thumb began to rub a comforting pattern into your arm as he held you. You thought of Tristan and smiled just a bit. As you sat on the swing with Joel, your mind wandered to a place it hadn’t been in some time, “You’d have liked him. His name was Tristan. Older. Real outdoorsy. Guess I have a type.”

That last comment was so low Joel barely heard it, but he did. A small smile lingered on his lips as he patiently waited for you to continue. He was curious as to where this would go.

“We were in Denver when this all broke loose. And, we were there for a while. Long enough to see the worst of people start to form. I was part of a community there…” Joel’s senses suddenly set off remembering just what type of person he and Ellie ran into at Denver. He pulled you closer, praying to God you weren’t one of them. Please don’t say it. “Tristan and I were part of a group of survivors, built a town up the same as you all did here. Though, this one is definitely nicer. Regardless, after a while, we found out that they were…” A sob escaped you at the thought of just what horrible things the group leaders were doing. A sigh escaped Joel as he inwardly had one word going off. Fuck.

“In all of their better wisdom, I discovered, they were killing survivors Joel and they were, they were eating them. Fucking cannibals. And when I was disgusted by their revelation, they told me that I could either get with it, or become their next meal.” You cast a look around behind you, to make sure no one was listening. Once you were satisfied, you curled into Joel more, right hand holding onto a fistful of denim shirt as you continued, “I couldn’t…Joel, the idea of it to this day makes me sick. I begged them to just move, have us find a new area with more resources. They wouldn’t listen. David…wouldn’t listen.”

“I remember that night. I packed what little I had, desperate to escape. Tristan was packing with me when a knock on the door sounded. I whispered to him to ignore it when they kept knocking. He was scared they’d force their way in, so he went and opened the door and explained that I was in the bathroom. I’m not sure what happened next…” You came to a pause.

Joel planted a kiss on the top of your head, his gruff whisper grounding you, “It’s alright sweetheart. You don’t have to keep going if you don’t want to.”

Your shoulders began to shake beneath him, letting him know that you were crying before the first sound hit. He rubbed your shoulder before asking, “Why don’t we go inside, yeah?”

A sniffle escaped you as you nodded.

Joel didn’t give you time to get up. Instead, he took his arm that wasn’t around you and wrapped them beneath your knees, picking you up. The fabric of your dress drug along the ground as he carried you in. Not wanting him to see you like this you opted to bury your face in his chest. Your fist was still in his shirt. Your knuckles were white as you held on to him. Even as he sat with you, you stayed in his lap. His hand rested along the side of your face, calloused thumb caressing your cheek. You cleared your throat and continued, “I thought they shot him. And I ran. Threw my things out the window and hit the ground running Joel. I couldn’t be like them. And I couldn’t keep helping them. Not knowing what I knew.”

“I couldn’t get far on my own, I knew that. So I got only a town over before I found a place to set up. I’m good at being quiet. Clearing a place from infected took time, but I did it. Stayed there for a while. But Joel, imagine my surprise when on a hunt for food…I found Tristan. Or I guess he found me. I don’t know. But I was so happy.” That moment replayed in your memories.

The sunlight gleaned through the clouds and the ground came alive beneath your feet. You were tracking a deer. When, suddenly, looking up, you spotted Tristan. He looked like he had seen a ghost, and you were sure you looked the same.

You had stumbled towards him, the disbelief clear on your face, “Tristan…I”-

-”run!”

Coming to a stop you looked at him in confusion. He yelled at you again, “Run!”

That was when you heard a sound that came to haunt your next months of life. A whistle sounded among the trees and a whistle answered back. Tristan looked at you before he ran up and gave you one long desperate kiss. The whistle sounded closer next time and Tristan broke the contact and effectively silenced you before you could ask too many questions, “Run.”

“Come with me, Trist.”

“I can’t, baby. They’ll fucking kill me. Then you. Please, go.” You weren’t taking no for an answer though. Instead, you grabbed hold of his hand and pulled him behind you. The second he realized you weren’t leaving him, he retched his hand free of yours and began to run ahead of you.

Joel was so patient with you as you told him everything. He so badly wanted to tell you that David was dead. Reassure you that most of them were dead. However, he held back, able to tell there was more. You pulled away from him, clambering out of his hold and missing his warmth the moment it was gone. You walked across the way and looked out of the window at the little garden your neighbor kept. You focused on the colors of the flowers as you took a deep breath, “They managed to get a shot on Tristan, hitting him in the leg. Slowed us down but we escaped. I needed supplies though, and they knew that. I tucked Tristan away in a safe place before heading for a medical run.”

“They cornered me at the hospital. Smaller town, the group had cleared out infected after everything went to shit. They…they grabbed my wrist as I rounded a corner and one of them pinned me to the wall as the other came around to face me. They told me everything had gone to shit. Someone had killed David, taken out a majority of them. That the rules didn’t apply anymore. They didn’t need to keep a doctor alive. I wasn’t a priority. Told me Tristan would bleed out while they had their…fun.”

“I hadn’t managed to find the supplies I needed, but they didn’t know that I had a syringe of hydrochloric acid in my pocket. I managed to pull my hand free and inject it. I’ll save you the details of where.” Joel couldn’t help but huff. His little spitfire. It was good to know you were always like that. Though, an anger coursed through him as he thought of what almost happened to you. Joel was pulled from his thoughts as you continued, “I was in the hospital for too long. By the time I got away, evaded them, Tristan had bled out. They had managed to knick an artery. If I had been smarter…hadn’t dragged him with, been so damn selfish. He’d still be here. He’d still be here and those assholes never would have started following me all the way here. He’d still…he’d…”

A cry escaped you that shook your shoulders and Joel immediately found himself behind you, unsure of what to do. He tentatively wrapped his arms around your frame from behind and you welcomed it.

You slowly turned to face him, those brown eyes peering into yours with nothing but understanding and warmth. Joel acted before he thought. He caught your chin between his thumb and finger, murmuring, “It’s not your fault, sweetheart.”

You tried to look away but Joel’s hold tightened on your chin before doubling down, “It is NOT your fault. Alright darlin’? Keep those eyes on mine if you doubt what I’m saying.”

Your eyes looked into his, really looked, and saw nothing but that warmth he provided. You smiled at the way looking at him like this tuned everything out. Every thought, every doubt, every fear. It was just Joel. A sniffle escaped as you smiled shakily. His thumb released your chin to stroke your cheek. His heart ached as you leaned into his touch, watching your eyes close as though you were savoring the moment.

Then, Joel felt everything shift as your hand came to rest over his. As you slowly pull his hand away, your eyes open, the sadness in them gone and replaced by something else entirely. You slowly brought his fingertips to your lips. The kisses you left on them were so light he could have sworn he was imagining it. But then, you placed his hand over your heart.

You felt a blush spread along your face as Joel barely managed in a broken whisper, “You are beautiful.”

The two of you stood there for mere seconds before both of you moved to close the distance.

Joel’s kiss felt freeing, like forgiveness after the guilt you confessed. And Joel? Joel already knew he wanted to protect you, keep you safe. Now? He’d kill anyone that tried to put you in danger ever again. The way you felt…your mouth eagerly accepting his kiss, pressed against him, nearly moaning against him? You were a damn salve for this fucked up life.

He barely got the words out, “Tell me when to stop, darlin’.”

Your hands found his hair again. As soon as you grabbed handfuls of it again, that delicious little sting mixed with the feel of you for Joel, you moaned out against his lips, “Don’t stop.”

Joel’s fingers ran along the line of your halter as your kiss deepened. Hand shaking, he pulled the tie and the halter of your dress fell. He broke the kiss to rest his forehead on yours. The warm summer air embraced you first. However, the two of you took a moment to catch your breath. Your own disappeared though as his fingertips traced the outline of you, brushing against your peaked nipple before his palm enveloped you. You kissed him again before encouraging, “Please…don’t stop.”

Joel nodded and slowly guided you to the wall, before turning you around. Grabbing hold of your hips, he pulled them out before showing you how to brace your hands on the wall, his warm breath falling on your neck, “Stay like this for me darlin’.”

His mouth came into contact with your shoulder before his lips kissed down your spine. At the same time, his hands pulled at the skirt of your dress. Joel bunched it up around your waist and held it there before kneeling down as though in worship of you. There was a sharp inhale as he realized that you weren’t wearing anything at all beneath this dress, everything on display before him. He playfully nipped your right ass cheek and you startled, but didn’t move thanks to his hands clenching you in place, “Well, sweetheart. Didn’t expect you to be so sparingly dressed.”

Whatever retort you were about to fire back at him, he wouldn’t hear, because it died on your lips as his hands spread your ass for a better view and his tongue found your center. The two of you moaned together…his at the taste of you and yours at the feel of him.

It had been so long since you felt this and it was exquisite. His face was buried between your legs, tongue working your folds and drawing arousal from you with ease until you were dripping. Unable to help yourself, you reached behind you and held the back of his head so he had no choice but to stay there. Joel groaned at how needy you quickly became for him and doubled his efforts, and you felt an unfamiliar feeling coming over you. It had been so long since you had found a release and this one came slamming into you, your voice calling out for Joel as he lapped up what he could.

Suddenly Joel was standing and pressed against your back, the length of him pressed firmly against your bare ass. The feel of his jeans were rough against your bare skin. However, he grinded his length against you still, gasping as he pleaded, “Please…le-let me. Say that you trust me.”

Your walls were already fluttering at the idea of him buried inside of you and you nodded before confirming, “I trust you Joel. B-But more than that…”

Joel had already unzipped his jeans and freed himself. He came to a pause though at your words before you finally got out, “I need you. Now. Tonight. Tomorrow and every day after that.”

That was all Joel needed and he rutted up into you. Your inaudible cries mixed with his breathless exclamations, “Fucking hell sweetheart. Y’feel so good around my cock. Could just, mmm, I’m going to want to stay here all night darlin’. All” - he thrust into you against, eliciting a cry - “fucking” - his hand reached around, fingers circling your clit as he thrust again, your cry turning into a moan - “night.”

And just like that, right on the other side of your front door, Joel set a punishing pace. He was driven by the sounds of pleasure coming from you. As he continued, you barely got the words out, “M’Joel, s’too much. M’gonna…oh god.” Joel pulled out as you came again, your cum dripping to the floor as he continued to rub your clit through your orgasm. As he stood there, working you down from your orgasm, a small laugh escaped him, “Darlin’, this is not where I wanted to make you mine the first time.”

You turned to face him and kissed him again before reaching down to grab hold of him, your slick on him allowing you to pump him slowly. Joel moaned into your mouth and it was the sexiest thing you could think of. Save for what came next. You guided him back to a chair. In one fluid motion he sat and you followed, sinking down on to him in one fell swoop.

The way he filled you had your head hanging backwards until you came back, your forehead resting on his. Only then did Joel open his eyes, hungrily kissing you as his arms pulled you close to him. Slowly he pumped into you as you came down on him. His heart was racing as he looked at your face, beautiful and relaxed as you took him so eagerly. The words slipped out before he could catch himself, “I love you.”

As soon as he said them he wanted to take them back. Yet, you didn’t give him a chance, lips closing over his almost immediately.

One arm still holding you, his other let go.

He needed to see you. Hand coming to your face, he guided you back by your jaw, breaking the kiss. He moaned as he spoke, “M’wanna see you, sweetheart. Let me see you. Those beautiful eyes as you feel every inch of me. Every p-part.”

That made you realize. There was something you wanted. Opening your eyes for him, you kept yours locked to his as you ripped his shirt open. You didn’t give a shit about buttons. At this moment, neither did he. Your hand immediately rested over his heart, feeling it beat beneath his skin. Then you kissed him again, your hand still resting on his chest. You broke it to whisper, “I love you, too.”

Those were the words that unlocked him. You could feel his thrusts growing erratic, weak, and you knew you wanted all of him. Taking over, you continued riding him and Joel’s breath stuttered as he came. The warmth of him unfurled in your belly as he coated the inside of you. The two of you stayed like this for a while. You were resting on his chest, his cock still inside of you, his spend starting to leak. He was kissing the top of your head, thinking of everything you told him while tracing a pattern in the skin of your back..

“Darlin’, I have a few things I ought to tell you as well.”

When you didn’t answer, he whispered, “Darlin’?”

That was when his answer was a change in breathing from you, and he realized you had fallen asleep like this with that perfect pussy of yours still full of him. He exhaled, “Suppose it can wait. After all, we got the whole future ahead of us.” Joel leaned his head back and slowly drifted off to sleep himself, the two of you fitting together perfectly like puzzle pieces.

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fic

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 3 months

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Fight Club, part 2

Team Free Will & Winchester!reader

Requested by anonymous

Synopsis: team free will thinks you started up your fight club again; is it true?

Sam knew something was wrong the moment you brushed past him in the hallway of the bunker. You’d just returned from school, and absolute silence replaced your normal cheery greeting.

Before he could even get a word out, you were in your room with the door closed.

…

“Hey, did you see Y/N?” Dean asked Sam as he entered the bunker. “She didn’t say a word all the way home, and she wouldn’t even look at me.”

“She just rushed past me. She’s in her room now,” Sam answered. “Should we talk to her?”

“Something’s up,” Dean decided. “I’m going in there.”

“What?” Came your harsh response as Dean knocked.

“Kid? It’s us, can we come in?”

There was silence for a minute on the other end, then some rustling, before your lock clicked and your door opened just a crack.

“What do you want?” You asked hesitantly, your head ducked low.

“Well, some eye contact for starters,” Dean huffed.

“Then you’re in the wrong room,” you sighed, moving to close the door.

“Hey, hey.” Sam stuck his foot in the door, reaching up and grabbing onto its edge. “C’mon, this is ridiculous. Let us in.”

“Fine.” You relinquished your hold on the door, finally lifting your head. “Is this what you wanted to see?”

The skin surrounding your eye was a deep, ugly purple splotched with green.

“Jeez, kid,” Dean breathed, gently gripping your chin between his fingers and tilting your head to get a better look. “What happened?”

At your silence, Sam frowned.

“Y/N, not again.”

“What?” Dean asked.

“She started up fight club again, right?” Sam demanded. “Only this time you lost.”

“I didn’t!” You insisted.

“Right,” Dean huffed. At this, you stopped.

“So, what, guilty until proven innocent? Screw that,” you scoffed, pushing past your brothers and running out of the room.

“Hey!” Sam called after you, but his plea went ignored.

Dean groaned.

“Well that went well.”

…

“Sammy, I found her!” Dean called from the garage, where you were curled up in the back of the Impala. You looked up at his outburst, and turned so that you weren’t facing him.

Dean opened the back seat just as Sam entered the garage.

“Hey kiddo,” Dean greeted. “So, that didn’t go so well I guess. You wanna tell us what happened?”

“Why?” You choked out, and Dean suddenly knew why you didn’t want to look at him. “You won’t believe me.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that, ok? I’ll believe you,” Dean promised.

“Yeah, we promise,” Sam piped up.

“There’s…” you swallowed hard. “There’s this new guy at school. Big, angry. I-I guess I pissed him off.”

“He hit you?” Dean’s blood began to boil.

“I just bumped into him, I-I wasn’t watching where I was going,” you continued, your voice thick and your back still turned to your brothers. “I didn’t mean to.”

“We’re not blaming you,” Sam assured you. “We just want to know.”

“I couldn’t fight back,” you whimpered. “He-he got on the football team, and some-some of his teammates held me down so he could hit me.” You curled in on yourself as you spoke.

“Honey,” Dean breathed, tugging on your arm and turning you to face him. “Commere.” He pulled you into his arms, his hand coming up to cradle your head as you finally began to cry.

“I-I promised not to fight, and I wanted to keep it,” you cried. “I didn’t mean to—“

“Shh, shh, hey,” Sam soothed, rubbing your back. “It’s ok sweetheart, this isn’t your fault.”

Sam could sense Dean’s anger boiling over.

“We gotta do something about this,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

“I’ll call the school,” Sam said.

“But—“

“And you can take Y/N upstairs and get her cleaned up,” Sam interrupted. The last thing he needed was for Dean to blow up at the school officials.

“Fine,” Dean huffed, lifting you into his arms and carrying you into his room. He snatched a rag off his desk and disappeared into the bathroom, coming back a minute later with it soaking wet. “Tilt your head up,” he instructed, and when you obeyed he dabbed at your eye with the rag.

You hissed in pain, and he retreated his hand for a second.

“Sorry kid, we’ll get you some ice in a second,” he said.

“I really tried not to fight,” you mumbled.

“Kid, stop explaining,” Dean huffed. “I’m not blaming you, ok? In fact, all I wanna do right now is go down to that jerk’s house and teach him a lesson. Unfortunately, he’s a kid.”

“Do you think I should’ve fought back?” You asked meekly.

“With half the football team on you?” Dean scoffed. “Kid, I want you to protect yourself, but there are some battles even a Winchester can’t win, ok?” He ruffled your hair. “Now c’mon, let’s get you an ice pack.”

You smiled and shuffled behind your big brother to the kitchen.

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you,” he said after a minute.

“That’s ok.”

“Sammy’s gonna take care of this, ok? That guy won’t get away with it.”

“I know,” you said with a smile before leaning forward and wrapping your arms around Dean. “Thanks.”

Dean chuckled softly and patted your shoulder.

“Any time, little sister.”

#dean winchester #dean and sam #the winchesters #dean winchester x reader #supernatural dean #dean winchester x you #winchesters x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #winchesters x sister #spn sam winchester #winchester #the winchester brothers #dean winchester x little sister!reader #dean winchester x sister #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x you

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jo-harrington · 18 days

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Stranger Than (Fan)Fiction - Chapter 3: Lore Dump

Previous Chapter: Out of Character

Summary: After your bombshell revelation, Eddie finds it difficult to wrap his head around what is now his reality to empathize with your shared predicament.

Word Count: 8k

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader

Warnings/Themes: No-Upside-Down AU, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Lore Dump (literally), Isekai, Mentions of FOI-compliant events and characters, Various References to Movies and Television, Criticism of Fanfiction, Meta Fiction

Note: Ok besties here we are and the chapter, or at least one part of it, is very much as the title says. It's a Lore Dump as we figure out how Reader and Eddie have found themselves in this predicament. Warning everyone that it might be a little mind-fucky but a lot more will be explained in detail in future chapters. We've only just scratched the surface here.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

You'd never run so much in your entire life.

Alright, that might have been a little dramatic.

But that didn't mean it wasn't true.

"Is it always like this?" you panted as you chased after the flopping brown coat of the man a few steps ahead of you. "With the running?"

"Oh yes!" he called out. He looked back at you with a charming, crooked grin and pointed ahead. "You'll get used to it. Allons-y!"

This whole nightmare started when you crashed your car into, what you thought was, an unassuming blue "police box."

And now, several days later, you were running, ducking, diving...surviving all manner of monsters that seemingly popped up out of nowhere in the middle of Texas. With a goofy man with unbrushed hair and a buzzing screwdriver called The Doctor, and his companion--whatever that meant; it sounded suspicious to you--Martha, who kept staring at you like you'd grown another head.

You supposed adventure was the idea when you left the borders of Port Geneva proper, but this kind of adventure wasn't exactly what you had in mind. Static monsters who could literally take the words out of your mouth and a hive-mind controlling overlord whose goal it was to steal knowledge.

You might have been a lover of fantastical stories, but this was something beyond your wildest fantasies, and apparently something Martha and the Doctor encountered regularly, if their cool reaction to some of the atrocities you'd seen was indicator enough.

They both seemed to have it in mind that you were joining them for this type of ordeal from now on, though.

Especially the Doctor, if that "you'll get used to it" was something to go by.

"Come on, faster, faster," Martha called out to you from the threshold of a solid metal door just up ahead. "They can't get in through the iron."

You pumped your legs faster and ignored the burn in your lungs as you passed the Doctor and joined Martha in the safety of the bunker, with the man of the hour himself following shortly after. Martha slammed the door shut and then used the sonic to ensure the lock would hold.

They let you have a moment to catch your breath as they strategized plans for the next steps, which seemed impossible now that you were stuck in a bunker filled with junk and no exit.

"Nothing's impossible," the Doctor exclaimed as though he could read your mind. Maybe he could; you wouldn't put it past him. "And we're not stuck."

He removed the brown trench coat and got to work sorting through the junk in the bunker, while Martha took a seat beside you and patted your knee.

"You should be proud of yourself," she said gently. "It's really hard, dealing with all of this. And I've been with him for almost a year now. All the running, the monsters, all of the...impossible--

"Nothing's impossible Martha," the Doctor interjected.

"--improbable things," she amended. "It doesn't get easier, but you will get used to it. Besides, you'd think you were on the track team like Sam with how fast you've been running. Maybe you should have been the star relay runner instead of her."

Martha might have laughed.

But you didn't.

You felt a cold sense of dread overtake you. You'd told them about your friends back home earlier in the day, when you'd panicked over your impending doom. You cried and told them you wished you were still back there, safe and sound; in hindsight, it was a pathetic moment.

It wasn't what you'd said that gave you pause now, though; it's what you hadn't.

"Martha," you muttered nervously. "How did you know that Sam did relay?"

Martha's eyes went wide and she looked to the doctor in a sudden panic.

"I...I never told you she was on the track team."

It was a standoff.

A staring contest.

You and Eddie watched each other, unblinking, as if to see who would break first.

Eddie knew it would probably be him because his mind was racing, but he would give you the chance to repeat yourself, or elaborate, or maybe yell "surprise" first.

None of those things happened of course, so he was left in stunned silence trying to formulate the words to respond to your groundbreaking revelation.

We are in a fanfiction.

Fanfiction.

He had heard about fanfiction before. Drove the guys out to some comic book shop in Fort Wayne to celebrate Jeff's birthday and the nerds behind the counter were talking about a Star Trek fanfiction they read in some celebratory fan magazine.

He'd honestly never thought about Kirk and Spock like that and he really didn't want to again.

Even though it kind of made sense.

He just wasn’t that big of a Trek guy either.

But damn, even though he and the guys might not have been the popular kids, they were definitely not dorky like that, were they?

Except that they were. He was.

He wrote his favorite characters into his DnD campaigns as NPCs and he fantasized about what it would be like if he was Han Solo instead of Han himself, and tucked away in a drawer at home, there was definitely that story about you...

"Shit," he finally breathed out, blinking and breaking eye contact with you. "Shit, I did this. I mean, I know I did this, but did...did I do this?"

"What?" You frowned at him. "What do you mean, did you do this? Eddie, did you hear what I said?"

"No, yeah, of course I did," he began rambling. "I just...before you showed up in Hawkins, I...I wrote about you. I wrote about you leaving Port Geneva and coming to Hawkins and meeting me and...fuck...that means you know."

You stared at him blankly.

"You know that Port Geneva is a TV show," he clarified and then ran a hand through his hair. "Jesus Christ, how did I...how could I have done this? Shit. Shit."

You crossed the short distance and took a seat on the couch beside him, comforting hand finding his knee instantly.

"Eddie--"

"I'm sorry I did this. I'm sorry I just...you're my...my favorite character and I..."

"--you didn't do this. Someone else did."

He took a few breaths, heart pounding in his chest, and then swallowed hard.

"Who?"

"That's...a little harder to answer. But I think the thing you need to focus on right now--the thing you're missing--is that we are in a fanfiction. You and me. Together. Because I'm not the only one from a TV show. You are too."

Eddie was dumbstruck for a second.

Well, he was pretty dumbstruck about this whole thing. But he only had a second to really process it, because the next thing he knew, you were in his lap, lips pressed to his, hands fisting his jacket, and the door to the greenroom burst open as his friends walked in.

You pulled away from him as the catcalls and whistles and jokes began and glanced over your shoulder at the guys to bite your lip bashfully.

"Ah, looks like the original song worked after all," Jeff teased.

"Good, cuz then we don't have to play it anymore, bleh," Gareth stuck his tongue out. "You know, for everything you preach about metal and only metal Eddie, you sure wrote some sappy Greg Brady shit."

Eddie's ears rang as he answered. Well, as his mouth moved and voice spoke, saying something that got everyone laughing. Something that he had no control over once again. You turned back to him and he widened his eyes in some silent plea but you simply shook your head at him.

Instead you leaned forward and kissed him again, softer this time. Gentler. Different from the unexpected kiss just moments before, this was one of understanding and comfort.

He relaxed under your touch.

"Alright guys," you announced as you pulled away, words and tone of your voice not quite matching the softness of your gaze as you continued to watch him. "Your set's over. You don't have to go home but you can't stay here. Bev wants you out."

"What was all of that?" he demanded as you stepped out of your car.

After driving the guys home, he sat on your porch and waited. Chain smoking and lost in his thoughts until you got back to Forest Hills after your shift.

"Can I at least get inside first?" you asked with a nervous laugh. "Do you want to wake Granny up? Jesus."

He was on your heels as you unlocked your door and stepped inside, almost followed you to your bedroom when you said you'd wanted to change into PJs, and even declined a soda when you got settled back in the living room.

And once you couldn't stall for any more time, sitting next to each other on your couch, he stared at you and begged, "please, I need to know I'm not in a nightmare here. Or dead."

You let out a honk of laughter and then reached over to take his hand in yours, and he felt the slight edge of abject terror start to lessen.

"You're not in a nightmare," you reassured him. "Or dead."

"Then...then what is this?" he whispered desperately. "Is this a trick? A joke? Start from the beginning. Please."

You took a breath and began.

"It's fanfiction." You hummed contemplatively for a moment. "This is...I don't know when it started, actually. For me, that is. For you...well, there's no way we could say for sure; I can only talk about my own experience."

You paused and then said your name, the same way that you had introduced yourself originally. And then Eddie realized that you were introducing yourself again as you squeezed his hand in yours.

"I was born and raised in Port Geneva, and then in 1985 after graduation, I left to start my adventure. And from that moment on--for years--I got to have it. I got to have...a hundred adventures. A thousand. A million maybe? As many adventures as there have been people to imagine them. As many adventures as there have been fans to write them.

"Fans like you, Eddie," you smiled at him. "You said you wrote a story where I came to see you."

"Yeah," he nodded, cheeks hot under your gaze. "I did."

"And I'm your favorite character?"

He thought about you, thought about himself and the countless nights that he watched you on the screen.

"How could you not be my favorite?" he asked gently in return.

Your gaze turned soft and you looked down at his hand, clasped tightly within yours, and then you continued with your story.

"I got to see the world, got to meet so many people, I got to fall in love...except I never realized it. Until...until I met him."

"Him?" Eddie asked sharply, thoughts immediately spiraling.

Love.

You said love.

Who was this Him that you were in love with? Even through Eddie's confusion and panic about the predicament he was currently in, he could still feel a bitter jealousy roiling deep inside his gut.

"The Doctor," you whispered.

"Doctor Who?"

You snorted. "Exactly."

"I don't get it," he shook his head.

"Doctor Who...that's...it's the name of a television show. Been around for a long time, but I'm not sure how popular it is here. If it even exists. You have a lot of media that we didn't have in Port Geneva but there's a few things that...I dunno...that your writers haven't mentioned. Or The Writer hasn't included yet."

You explained it to him, or the gist of it at least.

An immortal time-traveling alien and his usually human companion, all of the adventures and misadventures and danger. Being able to go to different times and timelines and universes.

In any other scenario, it would have sounded cool. Maybe a little scary. But now, all Eddie could think about was this mess you were in.

"And...this Doctor...he's what brought you to Hawkins?" he questioned hesitantly, figuring that it made the most sense. "He thought he was bringing you back to Port Geneva's universe and brought you here instead?"

"Uh, no," you frowned. "That was The Writer. The Author. Whatever you want to call them."

"Because this is a fanfiction."

"Yeah. That was. And this is. I just...didn't know it yet. I didn't realize it was fanfiction until later. But, uh, whoever wrote that crossover story just brought me from my world into Doctor Who, and that was when I realized I was a fictional character from a TV Show. Because they wrote me as a character who jumped from a television show into the 'real world' of the Doctor and his friends."

Just like you were now: a fictional character in his world.

"It's hard to explain, but the Doctor made me aware of it. Made it make sense." You faltered. "Well...not really, but that's when it started. He told me that I wasn't real--"

"Wait,” he interrupted you. “But you said I was from a tv show back at the hideout. So you're telling me I'm not real?"

"Ed--"

"Because you’re from a tv show and so am I and this Doctor is too.”

“I wouldn’t try to think about it so hard.”

“Is that...the Doctor told you that you were a character in a TV show and you weren't real? And that's what you're telling me right now too?"

"It's hard to explain--"

"Because I don't know sweetheart," Eddie chuckled sardonically and shook his hands out of yours so he could run them over his face, through his hair. "I...I feel plenty real. And if there's anyone who isn't real here...well, I have a stack of video tapes back home that can provide enough evidence."

He’d thought about the barebones of it when he’d been outside waiting for you to get home, but faced with the truth of it now, the dominoes were starting to fall.

He was real, he had to be. His whole life, all of his memories, all of his friends, what about th—

"Can you let me fucking finish?" you snapped at him with a sharp clap.

His shoulders heaved and he stared at you with wild eyes.

"You're real," you explained calmly. "I'm real. We're both real. Real people. Real lives. Real memories. For the most part."

Eddie didn't like the sound of that.

"But this world...is your world and I don't belong here. Just like I didn't belong in the Doctor's world either. He explained it to me in some way I didn't quite understand; I'm just a girl from the midwest. I barely graduated high school and suddenly he was telling me there was some cosmic anomaly that pulled me out of my world, my tv show world, and that I was transported into his world. It was wild.

“The important thing though was that he didn't know how to get me home. So, until he could figure it out, I was stuck. And I traveled with him for a while. With him and his friend Martha…and then with another friend Donna. Until somewhere at the end of it all...I died."

Eddie's heart stopped in his chest; you...died?

The question was stuck on his lips, the demand to know more, but he felt himself choke up when he thought about it. Even more when he watched the tears well in your eyes as you remembered your own death.

"I died alone, bleeding out in the middle of an alien planet..." you recalled, wrenching your eyes shut. There was a beat of silence and he let you have a moment to recover. He watched your eyes dart around beneath your eyelids as you gathered your thoughts, as you recalled whatever horror you went through. When you were through, you blinked and looked up at him with the weight of a thousand truths in your gaze. "And then I wasn't dead anymore."

"What?!"

"Well obviously I'm alive,” you motioned down to yourself. “Maybe I’m a little worse for wear inside but I’m fine. Back then though...I was dead. One second I was in oblivion. And then next, I woke up in the driver's seat of my car, outside of a hotel in Odessa, Texas. With a man from the future named Hiro Nakamura, who told me I had to save the cheerleader if I wanted to save the world.

"And it all just started over again," you sighed.

You recounted this next place to him. Places, actually; plural. Names that meant nothing to him but seemed to mean something to you--Hiro, Claire, Peter, Sylar--and it all sounded fantastic. Another unbelievable adventure, but there was still something off.

"I...I tried to ask questions. About where I was, about where the Doctor was. It was always ignored. I tried to control things but it seemed like I couldn't, no matter how hard I tried. Tried to do things that I instinctively knew I wanted to do, but I just couldn't. It seemed like there was something controlling me instead. Like I was a puppet on a string. And everything that happened around me...never seemed to make any sense, no matter how hard I tried to wrap my head around it.

"Sound familiar?" you asked.

Eddie scoffed, thinking about the traumatic, out of control moments he had had the past few days. That hopeless, helpless, sinking feeling he'd had.

"It fucking sucks, sweetheart. You feel like that...all the time?"

"You get used to it." You shook your head. "Get used to playing along. I learned that really quickly; I resigned myself to this life where I was just a passenger in my own body. Until I realized if I just played the part that whatever forces-that-be wanted me to play, I could have a little more control."

There was a tense pause as you let Eddie absorb the information. And absorb it he did. He didn't like it, the idea that he had to play a part; it was something he'd been fighting all his life. But maybe if you said it was something that would make him feel more in control, he could try.

He turned to the next thought ever-present in his mind.

"So," he cleared his throat to start again. "How do you know this is a fanfiction? When did you figure that out? Because...when you showed up, I thought about all the possibilities--a dream, a nightmare, hell, heaven, a portal, a wormhole like in a comic book--and that was never one of them."

"Because of the interviews."

"Interviews..."

"They're fun and silly, I guess," you shrugged apathetically. "You'll be in the middle of your life, middle of your day, middle of a fight...and then the world goes dark and you'll find yourself sitting in a room alongside the people you know...and The Writer. An Interview with the Characters.

"I was already familiar with the fact that I was from a television show and in a world I didn't belong in. But I was the only person aware of that fact; to the Doctor, I was a fictional character, but here Port Geneva the television show...didn't exist. I was just another citizen of planet earth, and my home was a real place on the map, as real as Odessa or New York.

"But suddenly my friends and I were in that room sitting in front of someone. A writer. The Writer--SylaireIsMyOTP117--and they were all aware that they were characters in a television show called Heroes, that I was a character from Port Geneva, and that we were all in some kind of...story in another universe, written by this SylaireismyOTP117. Something they never seemed aware of before.

"And SylaireismyOTP117...she acted like she was our friend too, like she had our best interest in mind and valued our opinions. Everyone laughed along with all of her jokes. Answered all of her questions. Except me, because then it all came into perspective. She was the one playing with our lives--playing with my life--and putting us in danger. She made us travel through time to dangerous places, she created more dangers, she even killed Peter's older brother--something that apparently hadn't happened in the show. Well...not yet anyway."

Your hands clenched and unclenched.

"I thought I figured it out," you said through gritted teeth. "Found the person responsible for this predicament I was in. Because she was so...sure of herself. She even had the audacity to apologize for pulling me out of my world and into Heroes. I asked her why she made me die with the Doctor just so I could be a part of this world instead... but she didn't know what I was talking about.

"Suddenly she had this pink magazine in her hand. Pulled it out of her back pocket and waved it around, saying she found it in her mom's childhood bedroom. Said I must have been thinking about one of the stories from it. The Port Geneva Teen Fanzine. SylaireismyOTP117 told me she was sad that people had written me the way they did. Out of Character. That she wanted to give me something better than than had. A better adventure. Then the interview was over. And that was the end of that. Or just the beginning actually.

"Mystery solved." You held your hands out in front of you like you were presenting the secrets of the universe. Eddie could even imagine a glowing sphere floating there if he tried hard enough.

You started naming names then, of movies and books and television shows. Heroes and Lost and Vampire Diaries and The Dark Knight.

And. And. And.

The list just kept going and going.

It made Eddie's head spin to hear all of the places you had been, all of the lives you had lived, the things that all of these Writers had put you through.

To hear how sometimes you'd wake up in a new world, sometimes you'd seemingly get your happily ever after, sometimes none of the above. Sometimes you were even back home in Port Geneva--relieved--only to get ripped away all over again.

It never seemed to end the same way, but it always started with you in the driver's seat of your car. Chugging along to the next destination. Sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse.

"And that's how you ended up here in Hawkins?" Eddie asked, then paused. "Do you know...what my show is called?"

"Uh," you winced and folded your hands together in your lap. "Yes. I do. And I know it seems like I know all of these things. I don’t. Rarely, actually. But sometimes the Writers think they're funny and they work the title into the story; that’s how I find out. Because it's out of place.

"But, uh, it’s not the first time I've been here in Hawkins, actually."

It was a record scratch moment for Eddie.

"You...you have?" He smiled and suddenly felt a sense of hope; alright, so his love for you was so undeniable that this wasn't the first time someone had brought you to him. To give him something good in his miserable shit life. "Well so, what happened last time? Why can't I remember? Is that just...well, I guess, what makes this time different? Why am I aware of it all this time?

"Wait! Wait! What's my show about? Is it...is it like...the Misadventures of a Wannabe Rockstar or something? You said that when we had breakfast at Benny's. Is that the title? It has to be."

He rambled for a second, excitedly trying to predict his future, a future where you got to see the ups and downs of his life as he and Corroded Coffin navigated their way to fame.

You let him ramble, let him live in hope for those few moments. Until he realized you weren't chattering excitedly with him.

Until he saw the pain in your eyes.

He deflated, mind suddenly turning to the worst scenarios. At least in his mind.

"We don't make it, do we?" Was the conclusion he could come to. "But it's Wannabe Rockstar, right?. Not Future Rockstar. I'm gonna end up working at Thatcher Tires instead or something. Dead end job, stuck in this town..."

"It isn't your show," you whispered. "Just like Port Geneva...wasn't really mine."

Eddie swallowed hard.

"It's called Stranger Things," you explained. "And it's...I dunno...there are monsters. The first time I was here, I wasn't transported in as someone's favorite TV character. It was 1983, Port Geneva was a real place, and I was a transfer student at Hawkins High. And awful things happened. But there was no Eddie Munson. They must've written you in later in the show."

You continued your own rambling then, as you tried to make him feel better about it all. How he must've been a beloved character for someone to write a story about him. How whatever story they were writing was a good story too, because there didn't seem to be any monsters in Hawkins, not like there were the first time you'd been there.

"And...and The Writer of this story must love you a lot," you concluded. "To bring your favorite tv character in to be your girlfriend. For us to...like each other, love each other--and I do like you Eddie, I want to make that very clear. You make me feel like I'm close to home for the first time in a long time--but it seems like they want to give you a happy ending too. One you deserve."

But your words didn't help. The sinking feeling was back, but this time The Writer didn't have anything to do with it.

It was him, all him. All this misery and he wasn't even the main character of his own show. He should've seen that coming. And yeah he could live with being someone's favorite, enough for them to write a happy ending or something but...

"'s that mean I have a sad ending in the show?" he wondered. "If there are usually monsters here but there aren't, and I get something...something good, does that mean I die or something?"

"Eddie, it's..." you trailed off, but the rest of the sentence was hanging in the air, clear to both of you.

It's better not to think about it that way.

He nodded slowly and pulled his hand away from you to run it over his face.

It was confusing, it was upsetting.

All of it.

The cherry on top of the shit sundae that was his week. His life.

Fuck, but none of it was real, right? Contrary to everything you said. So could he really be upset? Should he? At least he knew he had something good to look forward to. A happy ending.

But how could he look forward to it when he knew that...well, when he knew that he didn't deserve it in the first place. That wasn't what fate had in store for him.

Or the writers of this Stranger Things show.

His happiness was at the whim of The Writer. At the whim of some...loser nerd writing about him in another universe.

A nerd just like him.

Fuck, it was giving him a headache.

"I uh...have a lot to think about," he whispered. You nodded as he stood and crossed towards the door of your trailer so he could leave. He paused at the door, instinctively remembering that he had to kiss you goodbye. Until everything hit him all over again and he decided it was better not to. "I'll, uh, I'll call you. Ok?"

"Yeah," you nodded eagerly. "Call me whenever. Please. It's...it is a lot. And honestly, we only scratched the surface. But we can figure the rest out together. I can help you through it. I promise. I'll be here."

He left without another word.

Denial was the easiest way for Eddie to go about this whole ordeal, or so he thought. How the fuck else was someone supposed to come to terms with the fact that...

Nope he wasn't gonna go there. Not yet.

He knew that he would need to deal with it eventually--need to think it through and talk to you--but until then, he was just going to live his life like he normally would.

So he avoided those feelings, and avoided you.

And it seemed to work.

School, home, trip to Rick's to re-up his inventory on Wednesday, grocery run for Wayne on Thursday, Hellfire on Friday, no date on Saturday.

Dealing at a few parties, band practice where the music was all normal, and then finally back at the Hideout for their gig on Tuesday.

Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

It was a normal week and aside from the still-obvious markers of this new life he was living, like the mess in the trailer and the fancy renovations at the Hideout, Eddie felt relieved and a little less like he was about to lose his mind.

It was both a blessing and a curse though, because at the end of every day he realized just how much missed you.

You'd rooted yourself solidly in his life--both on tv and now in the flesh--for years. Even when he didn't have new episodes to watch and stories to enjoy, he had his reruns. His tapes. Then you were suddenly there in person and on the phone.

So the you-shaped hole that he punched in his life, when he decided to ignore his predicament, was gaping and obvious.

Yeah, he could tell Wayne about the great battle he'd come up with for Hellfire, or complain to the guys about the bogus chemistry homework. But it wasn't the same. Not anymore.

So he resolved to talk to you on Tuesday after the set, only you weren't there.

"Shouldn't you know Junior? That's your girl," Bev dismissed him with a wave of her hand. She must have taken pity on him at the sight of his sad eyes, and she just sighed and continued. "She called in sick. Took the night off. She seemed fine yesterday; better not be cuz of you, kid."

He feared you might have left town, maybe to spare him or something--how that would work with the fanfiction Gods? Weren't you supposed to stay in Hawkins? He wasn't sure--but your car was in front of your trailer by the time he got home.

Everything was quiet, and all the lights were off, even the porch light which you usually kept on. He debated knocking on your door, waking you up, but decided against it.

If you really were trying to give him space, or simply avoid him like he had avoided you, it was best not to wake you up and piss you off.

"Tomorrow," he told himself. "I'll talk to her after school tomorrow."

Of course, that was the plan and fanfiction or not, sometimes even the best laid plans went awry.

He was still Eddie Munson, after all.

Things never went his way.

Once again, he had Chrissy Cunningham to thank for his plight.

It was on this, the day of his reconciliation with you, that she decided her hunt or conquest or humiliation of him would take place.

Maybe all of the above.

It was raining, he was running late.

He would have cut classes--should have just cut--but despite all odds being against him now more than ever, he promised himself that he was going to try when it came to school.

He had just opened the door to his locker when she appeared, the tips of her pristine white sneakers kissing the sides of his muddied converse.

"Hey Eddie!" Chrissy greeted with a too-big smile and sparkling eyes.

Eddie jumped and looked around the hallway, conveniently lacking its usual amount of students who loitered around before class. Thankfully, no other cheerleaders or jocks in sight either, though; it was either a blessing or a curse, he couldn't tell for sure.

"Hey, uh," he coughed and glanced at Chrissy for a second, before distracting himself with the contents of his locker. Fuck, it was pretty messy in there too; now was as good a time as any to clean it. "What's up?"

"Nothing, I just wanted to talk to you," she beamed.

He felt a bubbling of annoyance build within him, somewhat out of his control.

"You can't want to talk to me and also not want anything Chrissy," he scoffed pretty harshly as he grabbed a handful of papers to sort through. "So do you want to buy weed for a slumber party or something? Or have you suddenly decided to throw your Homecoming crown in the trash so you could join Hellfire ?"

She shuffled her feet and clutched her books to her chest and then took a deep breath.

"I wanted to know if you'd like to hang out some time," she announced loudly, bravely. Eddie froze in shock and then turned to her; her cheeks were red but there was a resolve in her eyes that he'd never seen in her before. "There's a new movie playing at the Hawk. Clue. I don't know if you've heard of it, it looks a little spooky..."

She rambled on and Eddie was left to stare at her, dumbfounded.

Chrissy Cunningham? Asking him out? Ok so Gareth was right?

But was Gareth right? Was she really hot for him or was she just using him for her own amusement? Or was this another little...storytelling mishap that the Writer was putting him through?

Shit, how could he tell?

This kind of shit sort of always, sort of never happened to him before.

Plenty of popular girls thought it was fun to go out with The Freak just to get off or to have a laugh, sure. But everything else in his life was turning upside down thanks to the Writer. So was this just another layer to that absolute shit show?

Gah, what the fuck could it be?

The anger bubbled inside of him again, and he had the vaguest realization that the anger didn't really belong to him. It felt too intense, almost manufactured. He was hit with the sense of deja vu that he'd felt this way before--in the cafeteria before the almost-food-fight and then at Family Video--and he decided to put a stop to it immediately.

"Listen Chrissy," he interrupted her with a cool, indifferent tone. "The movie sounds cool, but I'm really not interested in going out with you." He turned back to shut his locker and get to class when she stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"If this is because of Jason," she began softly. "I'm...you don't have to worry. I'd break up with him if we went out."

"It's not about Jason," he snapped, out of control once again. Well and truly out of control. He felt himself shrug her hand away. "I have a girlfriend. A girlfriend who is actually cool and nice and interesting. Who likes the things that I like and doesn't like silly things like magazines and cheer and scrunchies." He watched in horror as he lifted his hand and flicked at her ponytail, and then felt angry at himself, at this situation, at The Writer when Chrissy flinched and dropped her books on the floor.

"It's almost funny that you'd think I'd be interested in someone like you," he spat at her venomously.

He felt the sudden urge to slam the locker, felt the urge to walk away, felt the urge to laugh in Chrissy's face.

But he resisted all of those urges with every fiber of his being.

He just stood there until the puppet strings were cut once again and he felt the rage and anger dissipate.

All the while, Chrissy went from a fearful, trembling mess in front of him, eyes welling with tears, to...nothing.

She just stood there too.

She looked down at her feet, shuffled back and forth for a moment, and then she scuffed her shoes against the floor, nudging the fallen textbooks.

She suddenly didn't look like Queen of Hawkins High Chrissy Cunningham, or someone that was afraid of the Wrath of the Freak, or some lash-batting temptress like she had been just moments ago.

She just looked like the girl who was hiding in the Auditorium at the Hawkins Middle School talent show all those years ago.

A person. Just like him.

Eddie cleared his throat and knelt down to help Chrissy pick up her books.

"Sorry," he muttered when she knelt beside him. "Sorry I--"

"No, it's ok. I guess...I don't know. I guess I just felt a little lost for a while," she explained softly. "And the only thing that seemed like it could fix it was you."

Interesting.

"But not anymore?" he wondered.

"Uh, no," she shook her head. "I don't even know...why I asked you out Eddie. No offense...but you're not really my type."

The two of them laughed for a second as they stood back up.

"You know," Eddie turned Chrissy's books over in his hand, "if you wanna break up with Carver, you can just do that. You don't need to use me as an excuse."

She froze in front of him, cheeks red again, as she hummed nervously.

"Thanks Eddie," she whispered. They both smiled softly, a silent understanding shared between them, and then Chrissy held out her books so he could stack the ones in his hand atop them.

And that's when he saw the book--magazine--at the top of her stack.

A pink-covered, handmade looking thing with a familiar name printed at the top of it.

Port Geneva Teen Fanzine.

His heart stopped.

That was the thing you said your Writer had shown you once upon a time, in your Interview.

For a second he wondered how Chrissy had it, but then he tried to figure out the logic that you were from a TV show and transported here. If he was a fan, there must be other people watching the show and fans of it too. Maybe the magazine transcended universes. Just like the show did.

It honestly made his head hurt trying to think about it.

"You...you like Port Geneva?" he asked, trying to remain as casual as possible.

"Hmm, yeah," Chrissy smiled down at the 'zine. "It's one of my favorite shows. My mom and I used to watch it together. Sam is my favorite character."

Somehow, that didn't surprise him one bit.

"Do you watch?" she questioned, brow quirked curiously. "It doesn't seem like your kind of show."

"I mean, I'm full of surprises," he teased, trying to keep his tone as lighthearted as possible. "But, uh...yeah. I used to."

"It's a bummer that it's over right?"

"Yeah...hey Chrissy, I know you don't owe me any favors or anything but, uh, can I borrow that?"

"Seriously?" she snorted. "It's just got like personality quizzes and little stories and stuff in it. Nothing special."

Little stories? Bingo.

"Yeah, just curious."

"Sure." They traded her textbooks for the magazine, and then with a shrill ring of the bell overhead, they went off to class.

He sat in his room after school, holding the Port Geneva Teen Fanzine like it was some sacred document not meant for the eyes of a mere mortal peasant like him.

The Dead Sea Scrolls or the Magna Carta or The Declaration of Independence.

It had burned a hole in his backpack the whole day, anticipation getting the better of him, but he knew that he didn't want to read the 'zine in front of his friends.

"So stupid," he scoffed at his own antics. "What was gonna happen? Davey wouldn't want to take the 'which character would make the best chemistry lab partner' quiz."

Maybe just in case there was something just inside the pink paper cover that would change his life forever.

"Like what? It's not like your yearbook picture's gonna be on the first page, idiot," he sighed and tightened his grip on the magazine. "Just gotta rip off that bandaid."

He closed his eyes tightly, took a breath, and flipped open the cover.

When he cracked one eye open to take a peek, he sighed in relief.

His face wasn't staring back up at him. No faces, actually. Just a table of contents that looked a little grainy, like it was copied on a Xerox machine and haphazardly thrown together.

There were different headlines just like there would be in a regular magazine--interviews, behind the scenes, quizzes--and then some unique ones--fan art, fan submissions, show theories. At the bottom of the Table of Contents, there was a little slip that could be cut out, filled, and mailed along with a few dollars to some address in California to get the next copy of the 'zine.

Eddie flipped through the pages curiously, and he truly enjoyed some of the pictures of fans visiting the set and getting pictures with a few cast members. Then an interview with the actress who played Sam's mom, who said what a joy it was to see her young co-stars grow up and come into their own, just like their characters.

Then about half-way through, he reached the Fan Submissions.

A section filled with fanfiction stories.

A section where your name was plastered practically everywhere.

Stories of you getting to go to big cities, ones where you finally returned home. A heartbreaking one where you returned in time for Sam and Pat's wedding and you cried because...

Because...you'd actually been in love with Patrick the whole time?

Eddie made a noise of shock as he read the detailed description of your heartbreak and the way that you recalled how sad you had been the day Pat had come to ask for your help with the proposal.

"Were we even watching the same show?" Eddie scoffed.

There were a few fanfiction submissions that characterized you that way, having this unrequited love for him.

But you never really showed any interest in him, other than friendship. Aside from Mark, you never had any romantic feelings in the show.

How had these so-called fans misread your relationship with Pat so terribly?

Or had Eddie's obsession with you clouded his ability to perceive the signs? Maybe he had been watching a different show than everyone else.

He wallowed in that feeling as he waded through the fan stories slowly--although one story about Bonnie and Bill seemed a little interesting: a Bakery/Flower Shop soulmate romance--until he got to one at the very end that caused the hair on his arms to stand on end.

A story about you...and Alex P. Keaton?

It was the only crossover in the fan submission, and it made Eddie nervous once again that he misunderstood your character.

Alex P. Keaton who read the Wall Street Journal for fun?! And you, and artist who followed your heart and went on an adventure to find yourself?! No, there was no way.

"This is a bunch of bullshit," he muttered. He shut the magazine and ran a hand over his face and into his hair.

Eddie wasn't the one who misunderstood you; it was everyone else who did. And if they had written you so wrong in this magazine, he could only dream of how wrongly they'd written you in all of those other stories you told him about. How miserable you must have felt in all of those different worlds.

Shit, and it was not only you who felt miserable, but him now too.

The wild events of the past few weeks had made him feel like he was going crazy. Yeah, at least he had an explanation for it now, but it didn't negate the fact that he suddenly felt like a stranger in his own life.

And if he felt like that, God only knows how you must've felt.

"Shit," he muttered.

He needed to talk to you.

He quickly got up from the bed and raced out of the house, panting as he jogged across the trailer park to get to your door.

He knocked frantically and impatiently waited for you to answer.

His resolve broke when you finally did.

Clothes--pajamas, actually--mussed, eyes bloodshot and puffy, you looked a lot like you had during the episode where Mark had broken your heart and you'd cried to Sam.

Had you thought that he was ending things with you because he had been avoiding you? Because of this whole situation? He ached to think that he'd hurt you like that.

"Sweetheart," Eddie whispered softly. "I should've called. Shit. I'm sorry I--"

"No," you sniffed and shook your head. You were smart enough to put two and two together and realize what he was apologizing for. "No, it's...Eddie this isn't because of you...I mean yeah, actually it is but..."

"I'm sorry," you both said simultaneously.

"I'm sorry that I just left the other night," Eddie elaborated. "I'm sorry that I avoided the whole thing, but I needed...I needed some sense of normalcy in all of this."

When he paused for breath, you immediately swooped in with your own apology and explanation.

"Well I'm sorry I seemed to have brought all of this bullshit with me to Hawkins," you stared at him pathetically. "I've never...no one has ever seemed aware of it before. I've been dealing with this alone for so long. I know I sort of dumped it on you; not only to explain, but maybe because I found some sort of relief that I wouldn't be going through it all alone anymore. I'd have you with me at least.

"And then, after you left, I really had time to think...how long it's been. My show aired in the 80's. And your show...Stranger Things? I mean...between my last time here...someone put me in a modern movie for a short time...and then I guess your season was a few years later maybe? Twenty-twenty-something?"

Eddie's throat tightened. They were still writing stories about the 80's that far in the future? Sure there were war movies and stuff. Man, people must've been really nostalgic and weird otherwise...

"It must be like...a historical documentary at that point," he laughed dryly.

"You calling me old?" you choked on a laugh, and then looked down at your hands. "I guess I am, though. I've lived through all of these different stories for...lifetimes. One story might take...I dunno, a few months for its Writer to finish, but it spans years. Years that I've lived through, one day at a time, with no break."

"Shit...that sounds..."

"Terrible?"

"Yeah."

"It is. I've been dealing with all of this...alone...for hundreds of years at this point I guess. Through stories that still write me as a teenager, or a middle-aged woman. I've lived and died over and over. I've been an artist, a writer, a dancer, a private investigator...I can't even remember the last time I got to go back to Port Geneva.

"And now that you're stuck in this hell too," your voice dropped to a whisper. "It made me sort of dread that for you too. Dread what kind of life that Writers might put you through, especially if your story in your show had a tragic ending like you said. They could give you everything you ever wanted, or they could just kill you again and again, for fun.

"And it's horrible and beautiful and great sometimes, but at the end of it all, it's tiring. Talking through it with you made me realize how much I wished I could be free, that maybe...maybe this Writer who brought me here would just be happy writing a story about the two of us for the rest of their lives or something. Spare us both anymore torture.

"Because at this point...I don't even know who I am anymore."

Your eyes welled with tears again and your shoulders heaved as you held back a sob.

And Eddie wished that he could tell you that he understood.

That his few days experience being aware that he was in a story could compare to everything that you'd seen.

He could tell you he appreciated your concern, that he felt that sense of dread that you felt for him. Assure you that he'd be fine. That it would be alright as long as you were in it together, just like you said.

But truthfully before hearing you say it right now, he hadn't come to that conclusion that he might be stuck in some endless loop of happiness and misery forever.

Because he did what he always did: he avoided the bad things. He ran away from this problem.

So what could say that could help you? That would make you feel better?

He wracked his brain for a moment, coming up with the right words.

But if there was anything Eddie did better than run away, it was say the right thing at the right time.

And he did.

"I know who you are," Eddie finally found his voice.

He took one of your hands in his and then cupped your cheek so you could look into his eyes.

"You might have forgotten who you are, but I know. I've always known. From the first time I saw you on screen, I felt such a connection to you."

He felt nervous, revealing his feelings to you. Confessing his fanatic behavior, his love for you. They were things he never said aloud to anyone and it made him nervous and vulnerable. Made him feel like he needed to run again. But your eyes glittered with unshed tears, and he knew he had to soldier on.

"Meeting you was like...the happiest day of my life. And you weren't anything that I expected, but everything I knew you were, deep down. And you...you've always seen the real me too, which is something very few people have the patience for. You're exactly who I've been waiting for.

"So maybe," he paused and cleared his throat. "Maybe we only have a few weeks together, or a few months, or maybe it'll be a few years for this Writer to give us a Happily Ever After. Maybe they'll put us through hell. But at least we're in it together. And I'll be here to remind you who you are if you ever forget, and to make sure you're not alone for as long as I can. As long as you promise that you'll do the same for me too."

In hindsight, a kiss was probably not the best end to his little declaration, but it felt right, so he did it anyway.

He leaned in and softly kissed your forehead, then the tip of your nose, then caught the softness of your lips between his.

The sound of your sigh, and the feeling of you melting against him, were the sweetest sensations he'd ever felt. It was a relief.

For a moment, right before he pulled away, Eddie felt a smug sense of superiority over everyone. All the writers who had made you question who you were, all of the love interests that they'd written for you--Alex P. Keaton could get fucked--and he resolved to make this a story for the ages, even if it never wound up on some fanfiction writer's page.

"Thank you Eddie," you whispered against his lips when all was said and done.

"We have a deal?"

"Yeah," you bit your lip and grinned at him. "It's a deal."

You backed away and, hands still locked together Eddie looked around the trailer park and sighed.

"So..." he scratched the back of his neck. "What happens now?"

Next Chapter: Reader Suggestions Coming Soon

There is no taglist for this series, please follow the STFF Updates tag or check the series out on AO3.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #stranger than (fan)fiction #stff #stff updates #stranger things fic

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kellykidd · 5 months

Text

No Matter What

*Gif belongs to its rightful owner, it is not mine*

Pairing: Matthew Casey x reader

Summary: From Anonymous: Hellooooo ‘Stay behind me no matter what.’ Matt Casey :) ~~ Matt Casey + Reader + Fire Call = Hookups in his Quarters (I don’t make the rules)

Words: 682

Warnings: Intimate moment, canon typical events

Read on Ao3 here

Notes: Sorry it’s so short, but I hope you like it Anon!

Join my taglist here

Tags: @mrspeacem1nusone @kiddbegins @pensfan5871

“Need any help with the inventory?” Sylvie asked.

“I think I’m finished up,” you laughed, "you bored or something Brett?"

"I know I've only been in Chicago for a few months, but this is the first shift I've had with no-"

"I'm gonna cut you off right there before you jinx us. Those who say the 'Q' word or even think about the lack of runs is a jinx to the whole house."

"How do you know this?"

"Candidiate a few years back-"

Battalion 25, Truck 81, Engine 51, Squad 3, Ambulance 61, building fire, 723 North Wabash

"Looks like you are the new jinx, Sylvie Brett," you laughed, hopping into the passenger seat of 61, "and the jinx gets to drive."

Sylvie started the short drive to the scene, "how's it going with you and Casey?"

"Good, yeah, we're in a good place. It's weird to date someone you work with though. I'd never done that before Matt."

"Helps that your crazy schedules are synced."

"True that," you giggled, pulling up to the fire.

You hopped out of the rig and grabbed the jump bag before heading over to Boden.

"Where do you need us, Chief?" you asked.

"Two still inside, owner needs to be checked out."

As you and Sylvie tended to your victim, you could hear the commotion between truck and squad.

'Chief, I need a medic inside if you have one to spare' your radio buzzed.

"You good here?" You asked Sylvie.

"Yup, go."

You threw your bunker coat on and grabbed the jump bag.

"Medic coming in now, Casey. Where am I going?" you said, hustling towards the fire.

"I'll come get you, we're turned around in here."

You stopped and waited at the door.

"Fire is pretty much out," he announced, "follow behind me."

You followed Casey into the building and up the stairs.

"Baby, I need you to stay behind me no matter what," Matt admitted, "I don't know what hapened in here and I don't want anything to happen to you."

You nodded and followed him up the stairs to the second floor of the building.

"Victim is over here. Burns and possibly a neck injury as far as we can tell.”

“Thanks. Conscious?”

“In and out.”

You leaned down beside your victim.

“I’m a paramedic, I’m here to help you,” you introduced yourself as you undressed the victim of his jacket.

“Matt, you’re right. I’m worried about a neck injury. Grab the collar.”

Your boyfriend, now assistant, handed you your supplies.

“Help me get him out of here. It’s getting hotter in here.”

He nodded, picking up the jump bag beside him and handing it to you.

“Got him?” You asked.

He nodded and brought your victim outside.

After finding Sylvie, you loaded up the victim while Sylvie got the oxygen ready for the ride to the hospital.

——

Returning to the house after your run, you looked in the ambo’s mirror.

“Brett, did you seriously let me ride around with soot on my face?” You laughed, trying to rub it away.

You walked into the now full common room with your partner.

“So are we finally gonna convince you to take the firefighter’s test?” Herrmann asked.

“Haha, very funny Herrmann. 61’s my home, always will be.”

“I’m sure we’ll get you over here at some point,” he chuckled.

You ducked out of the common room and into the bunk room, where you peeked into Matt’s office.

“Got a minute?” You asked.

“For you? Always.”

You locked the door behind you.

“You know,” you laid down, semi-seductively, on his bed, “they way you said ‘stay behind me no matter what’ on that last call was-“

He leapt up from his chair and drew the blinds.

“Was what?” He smiled.

“I was kinda sexy,” you grinned.

“Oh yeah?” He leaned in for a kiss.

“Yeah.”

“You know what else is sexy?” He broke the kiss for a moment, “you with all that soot on your face.”

“I guess we should do something about these feelings then, huh Matt Casey?”

“I think you might be right.”

#Matt Casey #Matthew Casey #Chicago fire #Matt Casey fic #Matthew Casey fic #Chicago fire fic #Matt Casey x reader #Matthew Casey x reader #Chicago fire x reader

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waywardxwords · 8 months

Text

Hallelujah

Summary: While cleaning up after dinner one night, you hear the most beautiful sound coming from the oldest Winchester's room. You can't stop yourself from moving towards the sound. Dean doesn't enjoy singing in front of people, but he might just make you the exception. Word Count: ~1.2k Warnings: Fluff - lots of fluff

A/N: I saw this video the other day and I just couldn't help myself. Jensen starts around 3:23 mark.

While it wasn’t the first time you heard Dean Winchester’s voice echo off of the walls of the bunker, it was the first time you heard him sing this folk rock classic. The verse traveled to your ears, just barely peeking through the sound of the running water from the sink faucet as you washed the dishes from dinner.

“Well, maybe there’s a God above,” he started softly at first. So softly, your hand reached up and turned off the water. You stilled your body so your ears could focus on the sound. “As for me, all I’ve learned from love is how to shoot somebody who outdrew ya.”

Dean would never sing in front of you, besides the random jam out sessions in the Impala on the way to a hunt. But those were mostly songs from the likes of AC/DC, or Zeppelin…and there was that one Survivor song he loved. Never like this; never with such emotion.

“But it’s not a crime that you’re here tonight, it’s not somebody who’s seen the light,” his voice began to travel as his words became clearer. There was no way he knew you could hear him; he wouldn’t have continued if he knew. While Dean was, well, Dean–he had less confidence about himself than he would lead others to believe, but you saw through that.

“No, it’s a cold and broken Hallelujah,” he belted. “Hallelujah, Hallelujah.” The sound of his voice sent a shiver through your body to your core. You couldn’t help your feet as they moved towards the sound of his voice. You grabbed at the dish towel that hung on the rack of the oven and dried your hands on your way. You didn’t have to go very far, Dean’s door to his bedroom was open as he gently sang the remainder of the chorus.

As you stood in his doorway, you saw him through blurry eyes. You hadn’t realized before that moment that you had tears in your eyes, but the conviction of his voice—full of pain, but also peace—was overwhelming.

“Shit,” he breathed as he saw you. He moved to put the gun down that he was cleaning before you startled him. His brows knitted together in concern when he saw your face. “Hey, you okay? What happened?” In two long strides, he was in front of you. His hands gripped just above your elbows. Through the tears pooled in your eyes, you watched his green gaze study you.

“I-I’m sorry, I’m fine,” you quickly moved your hands to swipe away any droplets that threatened to fall. “Your voice…”

You watched the reddish pink hue start under his stubble on his neck and climb up to his cheeks. “Oh, uh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize anyone could hear me…” he removed his hands from your arms and you noticed the room suddenly felt cooler without his touch. He brought a hand up to pull at the back of his neck, clearly a little embarrassed.

“No, Dean,” you reached for his arm before he could turn back from you; your fingers delicately on his forearm. “Your voice is beautiful.” The words fell in a whisper from your lips. His eyes watched you, and that’s when you noticed all of the feelings Dean could sing, but couldn’t say. “Would you…would you sing for me again?”

“Oh, darlin’,” he chuckled and ducked his head to glance at his boots. “I don’t think I can do that…I don’t sing if I have an audience.” His eyes found yours again. You nodded once, not willing to push it if he wasn’t comfortable.

“Well, just know,” you started softly. “You have such an incredible voice. It was…comforting.” It took you a moment to find the right word.

“Thanks,” he chuckled gently again. You turned from your place in his doorway and headed back to the kitchen, hopeful that it wouldn’t be the last time you heard his beautiful voice.

The darkness was overwhelming. Even in your sleep, you knew you were dreaming but as hard as you tried, you couldn’t wake yourself up. It felt as though the walls were closing in on you as you fell into the darkness. A whimper fell from your lips involuntarily as you tumbled down, down, down…into an abyss of nothingness. You didn’t know what you were running from, but your heart thudded quickly against your rib cage—so quickly that you thought it might break out.

You couldn’t be sure, but you thought you felt a gentle touch on your bare arm just below the sleeve of your short sleeve cotton t-shirt. And then you heard a low hum—so low you thought you imagined it.

“Now I’ve heard there was a secret chord that David played and it pleased the Lord,” the words sounded far away at first, but as you came to you realized they were just beside you. “But you don’t really care for music, do ya?” With your eyes still closed, you felt peace fall over you as the voice calmed you. “It goes like this: the fourth, the fifth, the minor falls, the major lifts. The baffled king composing Hallelujah.”

As the chorus began, you blinked your eyes. As you squinted against the darkness of the room, you saw Dean’s green gaze staring back at you. “Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah…” his whispered singing trailed off as he reached his hand up to brush a dampened strand of hair off of your forehead.

When he looked back so his eyes found yours once more, a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Dean?” You asked as you blinked the sleep away and focused in on the way his eyes examined your features. It was then that you realized he had positioned his body just next to yours, his face only a few inches away.

“Yeah, it’s me, sweetheart,” he said gently. “You had a bad dream.”

A pause of silence fell between you before you realized something. “I thought you said you don’t sing for an audience?” You eyed him conspicuously, which elicited a breathy chuckle from him.

“Yeah, well, you were thrashin’ and weren’t waking up when I tried talking, so…” his voice trailed again.

Your eyes darted between his once more. In the glow from the light of the hallway you noticed the way lines crinkled at the corners, and how tiny freckles you had never noticed before dotted around his nose and his cheekbones. It was almost as if you were truly seeing him for the first time.

“Thank you,” was all you knew to breathe. Your eyes fell closed and a gentle hum rumbled from your throat as you felt the pads of Dean’s fingers swipe at your hairline once more.

Just as you opened them, he made eye contact with you once more–as if asking if this was alright. Your head managed the smallest nod before your eyes closed once more and felt Dean’s lips on yours, soft but purposeful. As he pulled away, all you could manage to say was, “Hallelujah…”, causing the green-eyed man to snort in laughter.

#supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural ff #spn fanfic #spn ff #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester ff #dean winchester fluff #supernatural fluff #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fan fic

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vilevenom · 2 months

Text

Hello, Anon! Thank you for your prompt!

I've seen a couple of fics where Branch has that conversation with his brothers, and it tends to get explosive. I tried to take a bit more of a calmer approach to it to help with the fluff. I also won't lie, John almost stole the spotlight from Branch, but I managed to wrangle it back, lol

Enjoy!

Things had been going so well. Branch's brothers were all sat in his bunker, clustered around his tiny kitchen table, the surface laden with half empty plates of snacks and various cups and glasses from drinks they had been going through as the evening had progressed. But then, there was a lull in conversation.

"Hey, uh…not to be that troll, guys-" Clay began, interrupted by a quiet snort from John Dory.

"Then don't."

Clay shot John a glare, but continued, a look of concern settling on his face as he looked to Branch. "Look, I don't wanna be the troll to bring the mood down, but I gotta know. It's been bugging me since you said it, Bitty B." He ignored Branch's grumpy "It's Branch", pressing on as he fiddled with his mug of tea. "Did Grandma really get eaten?"

A hush quickly settled over the brothers. Branch looked taken aback by the question, while John scowled at Clay. Bruce looked a bit squeamish as he stared at his own glass of water, while Floyd gasped and sat back in his chair.

"What happened to grandma?!" Floyd asked, turning urgently to Branch.

Branch looked distinctly uncomfortable, swallowing thickly to try and rid himself of the sudden lump that had formed in his throat. "Oh, right. That," he mumbled, pulling his hands from where they'd sat on the table top to fiddle in his lap. He took a deep breath, trying to think of the best way to explain to his brothers what the last two decades of his life had entailed. "Okay. Quite the change of topic," he let out a nervous laugh. His brothers deserved to know what had happened to their grandmother. "I guess I'll just start at the beginning. Uhm…a year or two after you all left, the chef started grabbing one or two trolls at random, rather than just on Trollstice. We never knew when, or even why. I think, in retrospect, the previous Bergen king probably just got greedy and wanted to feel happy outside of Trollstice." He cleared his throat, glancing up at his brothers, who were now all staring at him intently. He flushed, ducking his head back down to stare at the crumbs on the plate in front of him. "So, one day, grandma and I were outside. She was hanging laundry, while I practiced singing." He clenched his fists in his lap, feeling tears well up in his eyes. "I got so wrapped up in my song, I didn't hear her yell. I didn't notice until she was running at me. I looked up, and there was chef. Reaching for me." He paused to take a shuddering breath, letting tears slowly track down his cheeks. "Grandma pushed me out of the way. She got taken, instead."

"Oh, Branch," Floyd murmured softly next to him, his brothers hand landing gently on his shoulder. He shrugged it off out of habit, curling a bit in on himself in his chair.

"If I'd been paying attention, she wouldn't have been grabbed," Branch muttered, his colors dulling slightly as he spoke.

"That's not your fault, B," Bruce said, shaking his head as he put his hand on the table in front of Branch, "You were just a kid." He paused, noticing the way Branch's blue fur seemed to grow a shade duller. "Does the color of your fur have something to do with…all that?" he asked, his voice gentle.

Branch sighed, rubbing his hands roughly over his face, angrily wiping tears away. His brothers should be furious at him for getting their grandma killed, but they were treating him so gently. He was both angry on their behalf, but also relieved that they hadn't walked out on him once again. "Yeah. I turned grey after that."

A collective, quiet gasp went around the table.

"Grey? For how long?" John Dory asked, sitting forward in his seat, "It had to have been a long time, if you're still dark."

Branch glanced up, a sardonic little smile on his face. "I guess twenty years is a long time."

"No way. Twenty?! Branch…" Clay shook his head as he trailed off, disbelief on his face.

"I had to take care of myself, after that. Other trolls thought there was something wrong with me, because I didn't sing or dance anymore. I was never happy. King Peppy was good about telling trolls to leave me alone, but that was a bit of the problem. They all just…left me alone," Branch explained, feeling Floyd's hand on his shoulder again. This time he let it stay. "When we escaped the troll tree, I almost got caught in the tunnels. I was small, and because of my colors I almost blended into the dark. No one really noticed me. Somehow, though, I made it out. I travelled with the other trolls until we found where we would build pop village. I was about five or six when I started digging the bunker."

"Six?! Oh, Branch," Bruce said, tears in his eyes. Branch glanced at him, and he could tell his brother was thinking about his own children, and what might become of any of them if they were left on their own at that age.

"You're made of tough stuff, kid," John piped up from across the table, lifting his chin defiantly as his other brothers shot him glares. "You made it. You persevered, and survived. I'm proud of you."

Branch blinked, shocked by the sudden show of support from his oldest brother. It made something angry and bitter flare in his chest, though. He clutched a hand to his chest, letting out a breath. He sniffed back the tears that had formed in his eyes again, glowering slightly as he looked around the table at his brothers. "It would've been easier if any of you had come back."

At that his brothers all immediately looked guilty. Floyd especially as his parting words rang in his head. He wrapped his arms around himself in a self-soothing gesture, staring at the table as Branch spoke.

"I'm angry, and I'm sad. I feel so bitter about all those years, where it seemed like none of you even /thought/ of me," Branch said, turning his gaze upon each of his brothers until each one, in turn, looked away in shame. He waited a moment for his words to settle, before speaking again. "But…I'm also so happy to have you all back in my life. Even if it's twenty years too late. I missed you guys. Every day."

"Branch," Floyd gasped next to him, his voice waving as tears ran down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry. We're all sorry," he added, glancing at the others, who all nodded in agreement. "I don't have any excuses. I should have come back," he said, reaching out to take Branch's hand. "I made you a promise, and I broke it. And I don't really think there's anything I can do to make it up to you."

Branch gave Floyd's hand a little squeeze, offering a watery smile. "You can. You can stay. You can spend time with me, and we can get to know each other again."

"I would love that, Branch."

"I just want to state, for the record," John Dory piped up from across the table, "I did come back."

Clay rolled his eyes, while Bruce scoffed, but John sat firm, a look of determination on his face as he stared Branch down. "I did come back, and I thought you were dead."

"You thought he was dead? Come on, John, that's a bit much," Clay snorted, shoving lightly at his brothers shoulder. But John just shook his head, scowling.

"I thought you were all dead," John stated bluntly. "I came back after the trolls escaped. The tree was dead, and most of the pods were wrecked. I had no idea you all left Grandma's pod after I did. What else was I supposed to think?"

"You just assumed we all died? Not that we'd escaped?" Bruce asked, arching an eyebrow at John.

"We left when the escape plan was still in talks. A small handful of trolls getting away wasn't unheard of, but the whole tree? I mean, I had a little hope, but what was the likelihood? What would /you/ have thought, finding grandma's pod covered in half dead vines and not a troll in sight?" John half snarled, shooting Bruce a scowl. "But, oh, that's right. You were off on a tropical island, drinking mai tais under the sun and learning how to surf."

"Hey, now," Floyd interrupted as Bruce puffed up indignantly, obviously about to get into a fight with John, "Let's just take a moment to breath. This is all a lot, and emotions are getting high."

Bruce let out the breath he'd taken, visibly deflating, while John huffed and crossed his arms, scowling at the table top.

"What happened after you came back to the tree?" Branch asked quietly, John's head snapping up at the quiet question.

"I looked for you," John admitted with a shrug, letting his shoulders slump and his arms uncross. "I looked for quite a while. I lost track of time, but it had to be for at least a year. The forest is huge, and the village was well hidden. After a while, I thought I must be the last pop troll alive and decided to go see the rest of the world."

"And you…did you go grey?" Branch asked, watching his oldest brother curiously as he reached up to fiddle with his goggles.

"For a little bit," John admitted, "While I was looking for you. Not anything as drastic as twenty years. And I got my colors back. The world is big, and beautiful. It's hard to stay hopeless when you see some of the stuff out there."

Branch smiled tiredly at John, nodding a little. "Yeah. It is. Poppy helped me see that."

"Is she the reason you managed to get your colors back?" Clay asked, leaning his elbows on the table.

"She did, yeah. A little over a year ago, Chef found the village. She kidnapped a bunch of Poppy's friends, and we went to Bergen town to rescue them. We brokered peace with the Bergens, and I got my colors back all in one fell swoop," Branch said with a light little laugh.

"And then you saved the world from the rockapocalypse with her," Bruce teased, grinning.

"That was mostly Poppy, but yeah," Branch returned the grin, startling as John suddenly stood up. He watched as his oldest brother rounded the table, staring wide eyed even as John suddenly engulfed him in a hug.

"I heard you on the radio," John muttered into Branch's hair, "It's how I found out you were alive."

"JD," Branch murmured, reaching up to half return the hug, ignoring the light smattering of tears that were hitting his shoulder.

"You are the coolest, Bitty B!" John suddenly crowed, pulling back from the hug with a broad grin on his face, shaking Branch a little, "Saving the village, then the whole world! Dating the Queen of pop!"

"Bringing us all back together," Floyd added, offering a watery smile as Branch looked to him.

"You grew up into an amazing troll, Bitty B," Clay added, grinning at his youngest brother.

"We're all really proud of you, Branch," Bruce finally added, nodding a little as Branch began to tear up once more.

Branch squawked as John engulfed him in a hug again, laughing as the rest of his brothers rose from their own chairs to join in. "Thanks, guys."

#trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls band together #trolls branch #trolls john dory #trolls floyd #trolls clay #trolls bruce #brozone #prompt fill #trolls fanfic #things that i wrote

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autisticlancemcclain · 8 months

Text

Lance takes the long way there, now.

He doesn’t have to. Technically, the way their rooms are set up, he’s barely any farther from the hanger he needs to be in come battle time. From the very beginning, it was he and Keith in the left wing by Blue and Red’s hangars, Hunk and Pidge in the right by Yellow and Green, and Shiro by the royal ring with Black. Shortest distance to their lions, most prepared for battle. It would probably make sense, logistically, for some room switching to happen, or at least for Keith to take Shiro’s room, but that’s…it’s not happening.

Lance has had the castle fully mapped out since his first month in space. Pidge may have reigned queen in the vents, but it was Lance who carefully marked down every tile that when stepped on opened a stairwell, every divot in the walls that cracked open a pathway. It was Lance to walk the six hours from the highest point of the castle’s peak to the lowest pitch of its bowels and boiler rooms. It was Lance who walked the echoing servant’s passages, brushing dust from his jacket when he made it back to a regular hallway only to realise that there wasn’t any, in a castle sealed for ten thousand years, not even a cobweb. (It was Lance, too, to discover the bunker rooms and hidden staircases of the Garrison. He most certainly didn’t sneak out every other night by merit alone. And further still it was Lance to knock on the wall behind his childhood bed and realise it was hollow, and find the tiniest of little holes, right where the wallpaper met the floorboards, just barely wide enough for narrow fingers to poke through and tug. Lance has always been good at finding small, hidden places, at poking and prodding until secrets are revealed to him. Lance has always been ineffably nosy, he’s just quieter about it.)

To get to Red’s hangar, you have to pass Blue’s. That’s how the rooms are set up. Blue’s zipline reaches out first, and twenty-two steps later is Red’s. On the first day after Lance had crawled on his hands and knees to beg by the barrier between him and his Lion, on yet another mission called to them in the night, Lance had swung down into Blue’s hangar by habit, and when his feet hit the floor he choked, realising, and had barely managed to sprint back up the way before Allura questioned why the zipline wasn’t at the beginning. He’d ducked into Red’s reluctant embrace with lungs that wouldn’t fully inhale and a throat that was closing.

He knew better than to try the passages, easier as they would be.

He avoided passing Blue’s hangar entirely, now. He already felt her absence, the gaping hole of her abandonment, all the way in his room, in the bridge, in the dining hall, in space. He felt the sharpness of it awake and in sleep. He felt it when he lay under his bed, knees pressed to his chest, eyes blank and head empty. He felt it when he felt nothing else. He couldn’t escape the hollow pain of her rejection, but he most certainly couldn’t stand to walk down the same paths he used to run, beam pulling at the muscles in his cheeks, heart galloping in his chest, sparks lighting up his head. The emptiness of her and of himself lingered there, in her spaces, and Lance couldn’t face them.

He goes around.

———

Lance knows it’s stupid and torturous. But he makes his way to the training room anyway, in the dead of night, once he hears Keith’s breathing finally slow through the thin wall separating their beds. It must take him an hour just to creep out of his bed and down the hall, socked feet soundless on the cool polymer floors, breath caught in his lungs, paranoid that someone is going to pop out behind him and ask him what the hell he’s doing (as if anyone has paid him that much scrutiny and attention in his life, except maybe Iverson).

Half of his hesitance is trepidation, but he refuses to acknowledge it.

The knowledge that this is a bad idea rings in his head for the entirety of the walk, but he banishes it the second he walks through the training room doors, locking them behind him, walking brashly in and throwing open the cabinet in the farthest corner. He snatches a headset before he can talk himself out of it, forcing his hands steady as he sticks the electrodes on his temple and under his hair at the back of his neck, like Coran did all those months ago. It feels far more daunting without the brush of the advisor’s gloves on his skin to accompany them.

He’s grateful at least that the headset doesn’t make him click through his own memories, search for particular snapshots the way he might search for sad songs when he’s already upset. It’s the same premise regardless, and he knows the only thing he’s going to do is devastate himself, but at least he’ll be devastated. At least that will be something.

The first memory to play must be early space, the first few days of the Voltron mission. There’s no death in his eyes yet. They look bright and brown and sparkling, the way they do in family photos, matching his mother and brothers and sisters. He watches as he crows, whooping to no one as he pushes Blue’s throttles as fast as they will go, whipping himself around in barrel rolls. There is no audio, but he can feel the team’s yelling in his head, the shouts to stay on task, but he remembers the way he felt like he was floating, like Blue’s energy was billowing around him, carrying him throw the air. He remembers feeling like his belly had bottomed out, like he was doing exactly what he was made to do.

The memory loops, same thirty seconds on repeat again and again and again and again and again and again and again and he lets it and he doesn’t cry and he doesn’t feel pain or sadness or loneliness or anything but the same bottomed out feeling, only now he knows he’s not floating, he’s falling, and every time he hits the ground it gives out from under him and he gets lower and lower and lower.

———

He ends up in Blue’s hangar by necessity. He knows Allura’s head injury is worse than she is letting on, and he’s simply closer to her.

He doesn’t let himself think as he sprints to her. He doesn’t let himself take in his surroundings (the deep blue accents the faint smell of the ocean the pinned up drawings from kids he’s gotten over the weeks and months the blankets and pillows he kept in the corner for rough nights the gigantic bottle of nail polish he had Coran synthesize for him to paint Blue’s claws the the the the the), keeping his eyes firmly on Blue’s, telling himself he’s not looking at her but through her, to his friend, who is hurt, who needs his help. By the time he makes it to Allura, by the time he helps her out of her seat and down the ramp, Coran has already come rushing in with his armful of medical supplies, whisking her away to a pod. He hears the rest of the team talking at the other end of the zipline, waiting for them, and he wills himself to follow them, for his feet to move, for his legs to function, and they don’t, and his knees stay locked, and suddenly he is a butterfly pinned through the chest, stuck in a glass box.

One by one, starting from the outer lights and making their way to the centre of the hangar where he stands, the overhead lights flick off, plunging him into flickering darkness except for the faint blue emergency lights, and the glow of Blue’s particle barrier up between them, and the deep yellow of Blue’s headlights. His eyes begin to lose focus, with the lighting change, until he is not staring through the particular barrier but at it, at his own reflection, at the way it lines up perfectly with the Blue Lion.

His legs give out from under him.

He’s not sure he feels it when he hits the ground. He’s lucky he doesn’t hit his head, although that’s in part because he cannot tear his eyes away, as if they are tied on a string to the Blue Lion. He feels stuck, and his mouth feels glued.

“You left me,” he manages, voice smaller than it’s ever been. He doesn’t feel her prodding at his mind in response, not like he should, but unless it is wishful thinking there’s a sharpness in the air now, the stunning smell of regret and of pain.

He wants to sink into it. He wants to let it envelop him, wants to let himself feel it in full, but he can’t, he doesn’t know how to let it seep into his pores. He tried to strain his ears, his mind, anything, to hear her, hear her apologise or excuse herself or anything, even tell him straight that she is done with him.

He thinks of how his best friend has been pulling away from him for weeks, how he chased after the taxi that drove his sister to the airport when she left for school, how he used to leave a space for his father’s boots every single day by the door long after everyone else had given up, how he would duck away from the first of his mother’s kisses when she picked him up from preschool, sniffling. There is a toddler in his head, feet planted on the floor, hands clenched at his side, tears and snot screaming down his face, cheeks bright red in rage, screaming at the top of his lungs YOU LEFT ME! YOU LEFT ME BEHIND! YOU DON’T WANT ME ANYMORE! YOU LEFT ME AND I WILL NEVER EVER FORGIVE YOU! and the voice is loud and echoing and the only thing he can hear and he has heard it all his life and he has never learned how to block it out, how to make it go away, and it will never go away and never grow up.

“I hate you,” he chokes out, and the lie is bitter on its way out of his throat, and he doesn’t regret it at all.

He drags his legs upright and steady with his hands and flees.

———

pt 2

#i love writing emotionally angsty fics that are non linear and disjointed so bad #vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #langst #lance angst #lance & blue #betrayal #brown eyed lance #autistic lance #insecure lance #post s3 #red paladin lance #my writing #longpost

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