#And I want to thank you all for all the love you've given to me and this acount this year

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Part 2: It Is A Big Deal

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Dean Winchester xf!reader,

POV: Reader POV

Summary: Dean's in for a rude awakening when he finds out exactly what you did when you got stranded in another universe.

Tropes: Frenemies (Dean and the Reader), Awkward Situation, Multiverse Problems, ANGST

Word Count: 7.4K

Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just to be sure. Cursing, Making Out, DEATH, Violence (only a little), Jealousy, Pining, Kinda Sad Vibes In Some Places, Sexual Innuendo, References to Sex, Feelings, Angst, Self Deprecating Thoughts? References to Past Sex (it happens quite a bit). References to Future Sex. Soldier Boy Being Soldier Boy (Everyone knows he’s a warning). Dean Winchester Being Dean Winchester (aka. being moody and super hot).

Listen While You Read: Jealous Again By The Black Crowes

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is no use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person

A/N: It was so fun to come back to this universe again! Thank you so much to everyone for all the love and support that you've gave me in writing the first part and thank you for all the encouragement to write a part 2! And also please don't forget to check out Stranded by @justagirlinafandomworld that inspired me to write this fic!💗

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

"Can the two of you stop playing find my tonsils and tell me where the hell it is I'm supposed to be driving to?" Dean grouses from the driver's seat while Sam leans over a road map squinting to look at the small print.

"Ready For Love" is playing over the speakers, barely audible over the thud of fat raindrops pummeling the windshield, blocking out the world around you, and sending the shadows racing across your skin where Ben and you are sitting in the backseat.

“Well, if you’d given me a few hours to fuck her at the motel instead of throwing a bitch fit-" Ben begins to say, turning his gaze your face to stare at the back of Dean's head with a lazy smile.

“Dean why do you care?" You interrupt Ben with red cheeks. "I know for a fact worse things have happened in the backseat of your car than Ben and me making out."

"Really? Because I can’t think of anything worse that you and him sucking on each other's tongues and helping the spread of mono." Dean's hands tighten on the steering wheel and his shoulders tense.

He’s more wound up than a tinker toy.

It has been exactly thirty three minutes since Dean's mental breakdown back at the motel when Ben showed up. Furthermore, despite how much Dean had screamed at you at the motel, it appeared that he was still going to act like a two year old who wanted a cookie before dinner.

Sam's suggestion for the four of you to figure out why Ben was here had been a welcome distraction from Dean's spiral. It had prompted all of you to pile into Baby to try and find where it was that Ben landed in your universe and find a clue as to why.

But so far the trip had been less like riding in the Mystery Machine and more like riding with the Griswold's on their road trip to Wally World…

Dean had been supportive of trying to find a solution to what he deemed the "Ben problem," but it appeared that Dean was going to spend every waking minute getting on your nerves.

Honestly, what's new?

You didn’t understand why Dean was so damn argumentative whenever you showed up, it was like he lived to make your life as difficult as possible.

It had always been that way. Since the first day you met Sam and him at Ellen's bar forever ago, Dean had never once said something nice about you or to you.

He always found some little thing to nit pick, whether it be your aim, your research skills, or your technique when hunting and you were sick of it. Each time the two of you worked together, it was Sam's job to make sure it didn't end in bloodshed. Even Cas noticed Dean's underlying hostility towards you and when he asked Dean what was wrong, Dean had brushed him off with a "not now Cas."

Worse was the time that you got hurt (only a minor injury) on a hunt a few weeks ago when you got thrown into a glass cabinet while facing down a poltergeist. Dean had chewed you out for a good twenty minutes and even with Sam's ability to intervene, you'd broken Dean's nose for speaking to you like that, and then rushed off to your room in the bunker before he had a chance to see you cry.

It was the one thing that you never allowed yourself to do in front of Dean Winchester, cry. He didn't deserve your tears, especially not when he was being a total grade A asshole.

When Sam came in later to help you get patched up, you asked him why Dean hated you and Sam tried to convince you otherwise, but you knew the truth.

Dean Winchester hated you, and you had no idea why. So you decided to stop trying to make him like you, because if he was going to act like a total dick he didn't deserve you being nice to him.

You knew that was why you liked Ben more. Ben appreciated you (sort of), he wasn't mean, he listened to you (sometimes), and he did give you compliments… well, they all revolved around the way you looked and that was nice, but just you wanted someone to give you a compliment that had to do with something else. Or maybe just a simple "I see you."

Is that so hard to ask?

Your few flings in the past hadn't been anything special. You didn't have the kind of stable lifestyle that prompted or supported long serious relationships, especially with non-hunters. Not to mention you'd always had this fantasy about meeting another hunter who understood exactly what you went through and what you had gone through over the years. It was often difficult to find a non-hunter who could understand that.

The bunker was the first permanent address that you'd ever had. Your mother had been one of the best hunters in the US, known by all, and you never met your dad, which meant that growing up on the road was the only life you knew. She'd died a year before you started working with the Winchesters which meant that you didn't exactly have anyone that you cared about or anyone who cared about you.

The thought often brought the feeling of loneliness stirring in your chest, but you pushed it down, throwing everything you had into hunting.

Healthy right?

Ben's muscular arm is wrapped around your waist, his hand splayed over your lower back to keep you tight against his chest so there is no space between the two of you, while your hands locked at the back of his neck. You didn't usually like PDA that much, occasionally yes, but you'll admit that you were only allowing yourself to give in to Ben a little more, because you liked how much it annoyed Dean.

Yes, you thought that it was absolutely ridiculous how Dean was acting, but you wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. Because in all the years you'd known him, you’d never found one thing to hold over his head or one thing that really irritated him, and Ben was working like a charm.

It also felt really good to kiss him, but that was beside the point.

You understood that Dean was having a psychotic break with his constant proclamations that Ben "was him," but you wanted to at least understand why Dean was still hung up on it.

Ben isn't Dean. Sure they have the same face, but Ben is different… isn't he?

When you'd encountered Ben for the first time you had done a double take, but the more you were around him, the more you appreciated the way he treated you differently from Dean. Yes he was a little sexist, but Ben made you feel wanted and Dean had a way of making you feel stupid and often like a burden, as if you'd been plopped on his doorstep like a box of kittens and he was stuck with you.

There was only so much that you could take.

You didn't know what you'd done to earn such hostility. Dean was far from sexist, and you'd seen him interact with other people, it was just you he treated differently and it made you want to strangle him.

"Calm down kid-" Ben sighs.

"Stop calling me that!" Dean turns around to glare at the man next to you.

"Keep your eyes on the road." Sam says, not looking up from the map. He didn't need to.

"What a wonderful suggestion Sammy, but see I can't because I have no idea where the hell it is I'm going!" Dean snipes at his brother.

I swear at this point if Gabriel pops out of nowhere and tells me that this is all just a fucked up dream, I'd believe it.

"Stop being damn hormonal kid, and keep driving." Ben rolls his eyes and moves his lips to your throat, nipping and biting along the flesh visible over the top of your jacket, making you gasp softly and lean into Ben's warm embrace.

Your eyes meet Dean's in the rear view mirror and just for a second you see something flash through them that isn't anger, but it's gone just as soon as you clock it.

What was that?

Dean slams on the brakes and Ben tightens his grip on your body so you don't go flying forward into the bucket seat.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" You snap, curiosity gone, as you glare at Dean.

The tension in the car is high, popping and crackling around the four of you like popcorn. You still couldn't understand why Dean had such a problem with Ben. If anything you'd think that they'd get along a little bit.

"I am not being hormonal or whatever other chauvinistic shit that is about to come out of your mouth." Dean snarls, ignoring you, as he turns and narrows his eyes at Ben. "And I am not your chauffeur. So tell me where the hell it is I'm going so you can get the fuck out of my car and out of my life!"

Ben opens his mouth to retort something, no doubt that'll trigger Dean, but you speak before he can.

"Ben, do you remember anything about where you came through?" You ask him. You were trying to be more diplomatic even though Dean was making your blood boil.

Just because Dean is mad at me does not mean that he gets to take it out on Ben. Ben hasn't done anything wrong. He got sucked into this reality and immediately got pulled into Dean's soap opera.

Ben huffs out a sigh as he turns back to look at you. His gaze softens a little as his eyes meet yours, turning from a dark green to a jade. "There was a building-"

"Oh wow, how helpful!" Dean snarks. "Did you hear that Sammy? There was a building! Mystery solved!"

Ben whips his head in Dean's direction, the air in the car growing hot as Ben's skin begins to heat, but you gently lay your hand on his cheek to bring his gaze back on you. "Dean is an asshole. We all know." You say to Ben, reassuring him and ignoring the look Dean gives you when you say it. "Do you remember anything about the building?"

Getting Ben angry wasn't the way to get information out of him, he was, after all, more like Dean than you were willing to admit. And just as you'd seen Dean get worked over by numerous women, including Bella, sweet talking worked the best.

Well, it never worked when you tried to do it, because Dean refused to treat you any way other than an annoyance.

But two could play that game, especially with the way that Dean was acting right now.

Ben's jaw tightens and you know that he's biting back some remark to throw Dean's way, but you pull him closer, trailing your hand over his bearded cheek to keep his attention and gently bring your lips to his. You feel the tension shift from Ben's shoulders beneath the palms of your hands as he relaxes into the kiss, and this time Ben smiles when you pull away, giving your hips an encouraging squeeze. "It was a school or some shit. And there was a billboard for "World's Biggest Beer Can.""

"Okay. We can work with that." Sam says giving you a sympathetic look before pulling out his phone to type something in.

At least Sam is being normal about this whole thing.

Sam and you always got along, from the start he was the older brother that you never had, and it was refreshing. Not to mention Sam was your best and probably only friend. The hunter life was lonely and you found it difficult to make friends anyway, but something about Sam always stuck. He got your abnormal sense of humor, he gave the best hugs, and he stood up for you when things got heated between Dean and you. It was his idea for you to move into the bunker with him and Dean, and also him that convinced Dean to let you move in.

It had taken days for Dean to finally say yes. And when he did, he made you move into the bedroom next to his as if he wanted to keep an eye on you because he didn't trust you.

And as much as you hated living with Dean, living with Sam made up for it. You liked helping him research while Dean bitched and moaned about reading through dusty volumes, liked helping him clean up while Dean followed behind you as if you couldn't be trusted, liked helping Sam try to make dinner that ended up more burned than anything else until Dean stepped in and shooed the both of you from the kitchen so he could make something, and liked kicking back on the couch watching movies with Sam while eating copious amounts of popcorn.

Unfortunately, Dean didn't get the hint that you wanted him to leave you alone so he'd follow Sam and you, crack open a beer, and proceed to give a personal commentary on the movie the two of you were watching, occasionally throwing a look in your direction as if he was checking that you were listening to him. Weirder still was the fact that Dean would do that when Sam wasn't with you.

You noticed that sometimes, that no matter where you were in the bunker, Dean just happened to find himself in the same room. But that didn't mean he would speak, sometimes he would just be cleaning one of his guns or quietly reading through a dusty volume or writing something down in a notebook, but you swore sometimes you thought that Dean was looking at you. Each time you looked up though, he was looking down at whatever else it was he was doing.

It was those moments that made you think that things could be civil between the two of you, and then he'd get on your case for doing something he deemed "wrong" when you knew you did it right the first time as if you hadn't been a hunter as long as he had.

He probably does that because he doesn't trust me.

Dean grumbles something under his breath and turns his gaze back out the windshield, watching the wiper blades go back and forth over the glass, crossing his arms over his chest. Ben frowns and you know that he must have been able to hear whatever it was Dean said.

Why can't we all just get along for five minutes? Is that too much to ask?

"Alright I've got something." Sam says ending the uncomfortable silence in the car. "The World's Biggest Beer Can is in Northwood about ten miles ahead of us."

"Finally. At least someone is pulling their weight." Dean states before he hits the gas, the force throws you backwards into the seat.

Your gaze flicks up to the rearview mirror and notice that Dean is watching you again, but you turn away to Ben who smiles wide and pulls you back towards him for a kiss.

But deep down you can't help but wonder if Dean had been watching the two of you in his rearview mirror the whole time and why he cared so much.

The building that Ben remembers is in fact, an abandoned school.

The roof sags inward allowing rainwater to pool in the front lobby over black and white checkered tiles, the lockers are rusted and thrown to the floor at odd angles making you worry about the possibility of tetanus, and there is an ungodly stench that you can only describe as old gym socks, axe body spray, and unwashed feet.

Ben's nose wrinkles where he stands beside you, and you're sure that no matter what your sense of smell is experiencing it's a million times worse for him.

You press your lips into a tight line, toeing around a puddle of something gray and sticky that you can't identify, but know for a fact you don't want it in your shoes. Your eyes squint into the looming darkness that grows the more you stare down the forgotten hallways.

It’s always gotta be an old creepy building. Just once I want to get to investigate a donut shop or a burger joint or a Starbucks.

"Any of this looking familiar Captain Sexual Harassment?" Dean asks turning with his flashlight to point in Ben's face.

Ben shrugs and squints at the offending light. "I don’t fucking know."

"Enlightening." Dean huffs out a breath. "Well, guess we can split up and-"

Thank God I won't have to listen to Dean mutter things under his breath and freak out.

"Fine." You interrupt. "Come on Ben." You start to walk down one of the dark hallways, but Dean slides in front of you to block your path.

"No way. You're not going with him." Dean waves his flashlight in Ben's face again and you can see the twitch on the corner of Dean's mouth to see how much he enjoys blinding him.

Why does he always have to act like such a child?

"Why?" You demand.

"Because as soon as Sam and I get out the picture, Grandpa over there is going to pull you aside and fuck you in one of the classrooms." Dean says it without blinking, but it makes you flush red in embarrassment and anger.

"No, he's not!"

"Yes, he is!"

Dean is so close that you can feel his warm breath on your face. His eyes are narrowed in anger, but you can see another emotion flick through them so quickly you think you imagined it. It was the same emotion that you thought you saw in the car, but you can't identify it, not yet.

Ben's hand comes down on Dean's shoulder, a wide smirk on his face. "Look kid, I get it. She's fucking hot and I know you think I'm trying to horn in on your action-"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean exclaims shaking off Ben's hand.

"You're jealous because she decided to be with a real man instead of you." Ben shrugs. His gaze travels up and down Dean as if appraising him before he shakes his head with a chuckle. "I can't blame her. Someone like you couldn't handle her.

"I could handle her just fine!" Dean snaps back his face flushing as he forces his chest against Ben's, who only smirks back.

What did he just say?

Your entire body goes stick straight in surprise and you turn your head to stare at Dean. In all the years that you'd known Dean he's never once said something like that to you.

Sure there was the night you met…

You hadn't thought about it in years. You'd been back in town because Bobby had called asking you to help out some friends of his on a case and you'd stopped in to Ellen's bar to see Jo. Dean had come on to you and you'd splashed a beer in his face and also maybe pinned him down against the bar. It had been awkward the next day when you found out that Dean and Sam were the friends that Bobby wanted you to help out, but you pushed past all the weird feelings to help.

Dean had flirted with you that night and you will admit to yourself that you thought Dean was attractive before he opened his mouth, but since that night the two of you hadn't spoken about it. In fact, you were both perfectly happy pretending that it didn't happen.

Or so you thought.

Dean's dark green eyes flick to yours in realization. "That's not what I meant."

"Sure kid." Ben's smirk grows to Cheshire Cat proportions.

"Stop calling me that!"

The weird thing was, you'd seen Dean lose his temper, it always flared fast and hot broken up with sarcastic comments, but for some reason this felt different and you didn't understand why. It didn't feel like Dean just getting angry because Ben was getting under his skin, it felt like something else.

"Whoa!" You get between the two of them for the second time in an hour. "If you guys keep fighting like this I'm going to put you both in time out!"

"He started it!" Dean glares at Ben, who doesn't look the least bit upset.

"I don’t care who started it! You're grown men and you're still acting like toddlers. I shouldn't have to separate you." You snap waving around your flashlight at Dean.

"How about this?" Sam sighs from where he stands a few feet away. "I'll go with Ben and the two of you can try not to shoot each other."

"Why can't I go with you?" You sigh to your friend.

"You want to leave them together? Alone?" Sam raises his eyebrow.

Not really.

Sam takes your silence rightfully as confirmation, because the both of you knew if you left Dean and Ben together it would probably be a Thunderdome situation or a reenactment of the WWE.

"Maybe we shouldn't split up." Dean says looking at his brother.

"You scared kid?" Ben smirks. " No wonder she decided to fuck me instead of you. You’re acting like a little bitch."

"You son of a bitch-" Dean finally snaps and launches himself towards Ben, but your hand fists in the back of Dean's leather jacket to stop him from starting a fight that you know he won't win.

It wasn't that you thought Ben was a better fighter than Dean, it was that Ben had super strength and would have no qualms ripping Dean in half. And despite how much Dean annoyed you, you didn't want him to die. Sure he was a jerk, but he didn't deserve that after everything he'd been through, and Sam didn't need to bear witness to that.

"Fine." You say. "Ben please go with Sam."

Ben rolls his eyes and follows after Sam, leaving Dean and you standing in the lobby alone, the only sound the soft plop of water echoing down the empty hallway.

Great. Now I'm stuck with Dean in a creepy old building. It's a dream come true. The stuff of Disney movies.

"Why did you do that?" Dean snaps at you when Ben and Sam turn a corner out of sight.

"You should be thanking me! Ben would rip you in half without batting an eye!" You turn back towards the empty hallway and try to put as much distance as you can between Dean and you.

Distance is good, nice. It means that I can only partly hear his disapproval.

"You don't know that." Dean catches up with you, sweeping the path in front of you with his flashlight looking for holes in the floor.

"Yes, I do. I've seen him do it before."

By now you were aware that there was a chill in the air, it was unnatural, creeping down the hallway in a thin mist that made a shiver crawl down your spine. Dean must sense it too, because he pulls his gun at the same time you do.

That or he's doing it because he's about to go Rambo on Ben's ass.

Because that'll end well…

"If he rips people in half why do you like him so much?"

“He’s not a bad person if that’s what you’re getting at. Ben did it to save me.” You point your flashlight into one of the classrooms along the hallway noting the rotted desks tipped over onto the checkered floor. “He wouldn’t hurt me.”

Ben's world was filled with more than a few crazed individuals, and when you'd been in his universe Ben had stepped in when a supe threw themselves at you. Truthfully, even though Ben did what he did to protect you, watching him pull someone apart with his bare hands made you sick to your stomach. Given what you'd seen, that was saying something. But you knew that Ben wouldn't hurt you, he wasn't that kind of man, and you weren't afraid of him.

“You’ve known him for five days! How can you tell after five days?!” Dean nudges a cardboard box with his boot sending a family of cockroaches scuttling into the shadows.

"Because I can!" Your lip curves up in distaste at the appearance of the roaches and try not to imagine all the walls infested with the little bugs.

You didn't like roaches. Especially ones that all of a sudden developed the ability to fly in your presence as if it were a miracle.

The two of you continue to walk down the hallway, the sound of your footsteps masking the constant dripping noise that comes from the floor above.

Your temper was flaring all over again. You didn't think that you needed to explain any of this to him. Dean never felt the need to discuss his extensive history with women with you and you didn't feel the need to discuss the ins and outs of your and Ben's situation.

"Come on-" He begins to say, but you don't want to hear it.

"Dammit Dean just fucking drop it." You throw your shoulder against a door at the end of the hallway, putting everything you have into it and a little more. You were getting frustrated at Dean's continuous commentary on your life. "I don’t want to talk about this anymore or listen to any of the ridiculous reasons why you think that it's any of your business who I sleep with."

“I think it is my business because you were about to reenact the scene from Titanic in the back of my car!”

“Oh please. I’m sure that you’ve reenacted it billions of times back there. Mr. Saturday Night!” You roll your eyes hitting the door again with your shoulder.

“It’s my car!" Dean shouts, moving you out of the way in a surprisingly gentle way, before he savagely kicks down the door. "I can do whatever I damn well please!”

I wonder if Sam and Ben are having a better time than us. It wouldn't be difficult to.

The door opens with a snap under the force of Dean's kick depositing Dean and you into a large auditorium. The seats are a faded gray and the curtains that hang from the sides of the stage, once blood red, were more of a muddled pink stained with splotches of dark spots and filled with holes the size of the Impala.

Crawling vines and ferns have begun to tangle over the empty seats and over the floors, absorbing anything in their path. The wooden stage is dilapidated and caving in on itself, the boards jutting upwards instead of laying flat as they should in some places from years of water damage. The carpet beneath your feet is squishy and moth eaten, and each step sends another cloud of dust into the air making the room hazy and you cough into your elbow.

"Not to mention he's me!" Dean continues, tramping into the room behind you.

"How many times are you going to say that?" You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying your best to keep it together.

"As many times as I have to, to get the point into your thick skull!"

You whirl around and poke your finger into his chest. "You know what Winchester? You can take all your opinions and shove them right up your uptight ass!"

"The two of you don't get along at all. Odd given how you seem to get along with my fiancé." A bored voice says from somewhere behind you. "But it is a lot more entertaining than I thought it was going to be."

Dean and you both lock eyes and turn to look in the direction of the voice, but there's no one there.

"Um, did you hear-" Dean begins to ask.

"Yes I did." You reply clicking the safety off your pistol.

"Just checking."

"Though I will say, with the way today is going for you and if this is you having a psychotic break, I wouldn't be surprised that you're having auditory hallucinations."

"Shut up." Dean sighs.

"Hello?" You shout, looking around the empty auditorium for some answer, but it remains empty.

Dean snorts. "Now who's craz-"

"Hello?" The voice mocks in a nasally voice. "Wow you're pathetic. I don't understand what he sees in you."

"You call me pathetic, but you're the one hiding. So why don't you come out?" A chair from the front row plucks itself off the ground and hurls itself at your head. You duck and it sails into the aisle behind Dean and you.

"You're not even that pretty." The voice continues and you can imagine a pout on the end of its words like a petulant child who wishes to get their way.

This is so fucking weird.

"Thanks." You reply dryly. "I like to think I've got a great personality."

"You don't." Dean mutters, making you throw an elbow into his side.

A high pitched giggle echoes through the space making it impossible to identify where it came from, until finally a woman materializes on the stage. You blink your eyes to make sure that she's really there.

Her blonde hair falls over her shoulders in perfect ringlets, and she's wearing a bright pink fur trimmed dressing gown. The kind you'd see on an eccentric billionaire's trophy wife who spent most of her day drinking gin martinis poolside while being fanned by cabana boys or the kind that she'd be wearing when she heard of her husband's "untimely demise." There's a silver diamond crown perched on top of her head and she's smoking a cigarette from a long white cigarette holder, while she lounges back on a golden throne.

What. The. Fuck.

"Do you see her too?" You whisper to Dean out of the corner of your mouth.

"You mean Glinda the Good Witch the later years? Yeah I can." Dean replies looking just as confused as you do. "You thinking Gabriel?"

"I thought he was dead."

"He's pretended to be dead before." He shrugs.

"Fair enough. Any reason why he's making us see her?"

"Maybe your new boyfriend has a fetish."

"Hasn't anyone told you that it's rude to whisper?" The woman says, taking a drag from her cigarette.

"Sorry. Um. Who are you?" You ask.

"I don't speak to homewreckers." Her face contorts into a sneer. You watch her eyes shift from Dean to you. "But I'll answer for your friend. I'm Iris, Benjamin's Fiancé."

If pigs could fly right now an entire fleet of them would be taking flight around you. You tried to wrack your brain remembering a single time that Ben said that he had a fiancé or was in a relationship at all, and you can't find a single moment.

Well… today officially sucks.

"Wow. Nice." Dean looks at you with a scoff. "Real nice."

"Hey woah, I didn't know he had a fiancé." You hold up your free hand in surrender. "He never said anything about a-"

"Hey gorgeous. Did you find anything?" Ben says materializing behind Dean.

"You're engaged?" You shout.

"No?" Ben looks confused. "Who told you that?"

You point a thumb over your shoulder to Iris, who is still lounging on the stage completely in her element. She giggles and wiggles her fingers in a cute wave.

"Hey Benny Wenny, did you miss me?" Her lips curl up in a wide smile when she rises from the throne, her bright blue eyes crinkling around the edges. The air around her seems to sparkle, sending scattered light out into the broken seats.

Ben is still staring up at the woman, looking utterly confused.

"You know that freak?" Dean whispers to Ben who is now standing shoulder to shoulder with him.

"Fuck no."

"Well, congratulations Benny Wenny." Dean snorts. "Guess you're getting married."

"I am not-"

"And don't worry, of course I'll be your best man." Dean continues, holding back laughter.

"Shut the fuck up kid!" Ben snaps at Dean, before turning back to the woman on the stage. "Look baby, I don't know who you are but-" Ben begins to say to the woman, who only laughs.

She throws back her head, golden curls bouncing with the force of her body moving, laughing for an unnatural amount of time before she locks her blue eyes on Ben again.

“Stop being silly. We met a few months ago at Legend’s party. We had a few drinks and then you came back to my apartment where we made love for hours-“ Her cheeks blush. “It was sooooo romantic. What I always dreamed about!”

“Um-“

“My parents are so excited to meet you and my little sister said that she’s so happy to have a big brother!” She giggles. “I even made us matching t-shirts to wear on our honeymoon and a scrap book of our children!" She holds up a magenta colored bedazzled photo album that’s the size of a medium sized dog.

Wow she put a lot of work into that.

“Children?” Ben stutters, his voice cracking on the end a little bit. It's the first time that you've ever seen him look afraid.

“What they’ll look like, where we’ll vacation each year, where we'll live, where you'll work-” Her expression turns sour, eyes flashing a dark pink as she glares in your direction. “But then you met that little whore who took you away from me and poisoned your mind.” She points a perfectly manicured pink nail at you. “So I decided to bring you here so you could help me kill her.”

“I’m sorry rewind-“ You say holding up a hand. “You brought Ben here? How?"

"I found a website while I was looking at destination weddings." She shrugs.

"There are websites about traveling through different universes that show up in the search engine-" Dean begins to say.

"DON'T QUESTION ME!" The girl shrieks and the entire room begins to shake.

"And you wanted Ben to be here because?" You haven’t lowered your gun. Frankly you had no idea what her powers were. She looked more like she would start tap dancing down the yellow brick road rather than start hurling chunks of the stage at you, but you needed a plan.

“Because we’ll get to share this moment together.” Iris sighs looking over at Ben again, who is just as shell-shocked as he was a moment ago.

“Killing me?”

Iris nods enthusiastically. “We'll make love on top of your dead body and no one will come between us ever again!” 

Dean snorts under his breath and you elbow him again, trying not to think of the image.

Please let this be Gabriel messing around with me. Because if it's not my life is officially a joke.

The three of you stand there for a minute looking up at where she prances on the stage in mixed stages of disbelief.

And just as Iris takes a step forward, a sandbag falls on her head. She crumples to the floor like a sack of potatoes as Sam appears in the wings of the stage looking from her to where the three of you are watching.

"You guys okay?" He calls.

"Yeah." Ben shrugs. "Too bad about her though. She was hot."

He's kidding right?

"The crazies always are." Dean adds with a sigh, patting him on the back.

"I'm so happy the two of you are having this bonding moment, truly I am, but-" You begin to say, turning your back to the stage, but as soon as you do Sam goes flying across the room and into one of the fern plants.

"That was so uncool!" Iris squeals, hovering over the stage, her hands glowing an unnatural magenta color. "Ben and I are meant to be together, we're soulmates, perfect, fated, destined, and no one is going to stand in my way."

The entire room begins to tremble with the force of her anger, dust floats down from the ceiling as it begins to crack and crumble under her powers. You can feel the warmth of Ben's skin as he begins to power up the beam in his chest, burning through the air like a supernova.

There's a crackling sound that comes from above and you look up to see a giant piece of the ceiling falling in slow motion towards your body. Dean shouts your name, but he sounds far away, the sound ringing through the few seconds that you still have left before it crushes you.

But the hit doesn't come from above, it comes from the side.

Dean tackles you, just as the piano sized piece hits the ground where you had been standing a second ago, to the ground, cradling your head in his hands. Your bodies tumble into the moth eaten carpets as Ben explodes, the heat and power of the beam causing more of the room to fall around the two of you.

There's a terrible high pitched wail that's cut off abruptly mid scream and you don't need to be a genius to know what or rather who it was.

Dean covers your body with his and your hands come up under his arms to hold him tighter to you. You bury your face into the warmth of his coat where his throat and his shoulder meet with a whimper as everything around the two of you shudders and shakes. He doesn't pull away, his muscles tensing as he tightens his grip around you, his own face buried in your hair.

The room continues to shake and fall apart in the aftermath of the blast, dust and ash rising in clouds. But you can’t see any of it, Dean's body is shielding you from the room as it crumbles around the two of you, tucking you further beneath him the longer it goes on, making it impossible for anyone or anything to hurt you.

You could feel something curling in the pit of your stomach the longer you laid there under him, an odd feeling that you'd tried to push down whenever you were around Dean, a warmth that begins to spread like wildfire through your body everywhere the two of you are touching. His body is warm and heavy, but it's not oppressive, it lays over you protective and unyielding in the wake of the destruction.

The smell of him invades your senses, a mix of gunmetal, leather, and a spicy scent that tickled your nose. You'd smelled Dean's shampoo before, when it wafted out of the bathroom as you walked down the hallway, imprinting itself in your mind. It was how the impala smelled, always like Dean, and with it brought a feeling of comfort that you'd never known before.

It was odd.

"Are you okay?" Dean whispers, and you can feel the rumble of his words through his chest where it's touching you, his hips laying in the cradle of your thighs. He pulls back to look at your face, the rough grate of his stubble catching your chin as he does so. His eyes are wide with worry and it's the first time that you'd ever seen him look at you that way.

Dust and ash caught in his hair in graying clumps, sticking to the shortened brownish gold strands, the ones that were just a little shorter than Ben's. You longed to run your fingers through, to feel if it was as soft as it looked.

"I think so." You murmur, not used to the weight of his body on top of yours, but you're also trying not to notice how a part of you liked it. "Are you okay?" Your fingertips trail against the smooth leather of his jacket, working up to the back of his head, feeling just the subtle brush of the hair at the nape of his neck.

You don't miss the soft sigh that rushes out of Dean's chest when you do that, fueling the fire that was spreading in the pit of your stomach.

What is happening?

"Yeah." Dean's fingers brush your hair from your face, so quickly that you think you missed it, but the burn of his skin over your cheeks is the only reminder. You gasp softly with the movement, confused as to why Dean was acting this way, why he was worried about you, and why you liked it. Your arms are still wrapped around his body, fingers curled into the back of his leather jacket, but Dean makes no move to get up, he continues to look at you.

You'd never seen Dean look at you like that, look at you as if he wished to understand you, as if he saw you. No one had ever looked at you that way in your entire life.

"Dean!" You hear Sam yell from somewhere, followed by your own name.

It jolts Dean out of wherever his mind is and he gets off of you, but he helps you to your feet, one of his warm calloused hands taking yours to pull you up before dropping it as if he didn't do it in the first place.

The room is destroyed. The roof has completely caved in allowing the rain to soak through the remaining seats of the auditorium and into the musty carpets. The stage no longer exists, all that remains is a black blob of what you're sure used to be Iris, and although a part of you feels bad about the turn of events, you can't help but feel a little relieved.

She was going to kill me. You think to avoid the wave of guilt that washes over you.

"Ding dong the witch is dead." Dean mutters under his breath, but it doesn't make you feel better.

Fires burn over the edges of the stage, small and controlled, but sending rivulets of smoke into the air. You knew it meant that the fire department would be here any minute and that's the last thing you wanted to explain. That and the body on the stage.

Ben stumbles to his feet a few steps away from Dean and you, pushing off a piece of roofing that must have landed on top of him. His suit is covered in dust and drywall, but he looks okay. He's got that far-away look in his eye he always does after he uses his power.

You step towards him to make sure he's okay, but Dean stands in your way.

"Are you out of your mind?" Dean snarls at Ben.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Ben snaps.

"You almost killed us! Almost killed her!" Dean gestures towards you.

"I fixed the problem." Ben rolls his eyes and glances to you, as if trying to reassure himself that you're okay. You knew that Ben might have wanted to only have a physical relationship with you, but you knew that he did care about you in his own way. "You okay sweetheart?" He pushes past Dean, gently touching your face, tilting it up to his. "Did you hit your head?"

"No. I'm okay." You smile tightly at him, but a part of you can still feel the ghost of Dean's fingertips trailing against your cheeks to push away your hair and feel the weight of his body over yours. "Are you okay?" You ask, noting the way his eyes still are a little unfocused.

"Course I am." Ben scoffs. "Takes a little more than a building to bring me down doll."

You nod, while Ben's hand still continues to rest on your chin, and just as he leans down for a kiss, you see Dean's face in the corner of your eye and finally you're able to identify the emotion reflected in his gaze. It's the same emotion that you saw in the car when he stared at you in the rearview mirror. It's the first time that you've ever seen Dean look at you that way in all the years you'd known him.

It's hurt that flashes behind the green eyes you knew so well, shifting to jealousy on around the darkened edges the longer he looks at Ben and you.

And when Ben's lips touch yours, you feel guilt begin to creep along your skin and extinguish the sparks you'd felt moments ago in the pit of your stomach.

A/N: I'm not going to lie, I did not mean for this part to be a little sad... but oh my word 😭 BUT I also promise that the next chapter will have a happy ending ❤️

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated. I love hearing what y'all think! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for Part 3 please let me know!

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @livya99 @zepskies

@winchesterwild78 @ladykitana90 @spnfamily-j2 @whyyouegg

@suckitands33 @pizzagirlxnsfwx @s0uz4s @schinug @just-levyy

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @minas-fantasies @ladysparkles78

@mochminnie @peachhiz @impala67stellawinchester @nancymcl @lunaleah

@lightdancingwords @kamisobsessed @justwhisperingfantasies

@lunaleah @kamisobsessed @kmc1989 @djudy99

@bitchykittenconnoisseur

[sweet-s0rr0w]

writing interview game

honestly, i very much doubt that anyone wants to read what i have to say about writing, but i got tags from some lovely friendly people (thank you to @garagepaperback, @citrusses, @arminaa8 and @wholahoop) so let's start and we'll see where it takes us.

how many works do you have on ao3? 31

what's your total ao3 word count? 368,607

your top 5 stories by kudos?

Nor All That Glisters 

Kept in Cages with @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm (art)

Dreaming Skies with @tackytigerfic

Among the Elements

When The Party's Over

do you respond to comments? no, i'm awful, i don't think about it too much or i feel absolutely overwhelmed. i read and appreciate every single one though (except the draco simps complaining about glisters you know who you are) and in my dreams i will reply to you all one day.

what's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? i don't really do angsty endings, although i did recently write a creepy timeloop fic! also, if anyone wants a laugh please check out the first bookmark on that fic, which is named After the Time Loop:

(also, 'a good enough fic' yeah well your reading comprehension skills aint all that either mate)

what's the fic you've written with the happiest ending? maybe kept in cages?

do you write crossovers? no

have you ever received hate on a fic? not just hate on my fic, hate on my fic that somehow led to me being accused of something i didn't do and basically ostracised from fandom for like nine months. wild!

do you write smut? intermittently

have you ever had a fic stolen? no-one would bother. though i think AI is stealing from all our fics right?

have you ever had a fic translated? yes! the lovely @moonletterss has translated several of my fics into brazilian portuguese! and by the way i had the nicest comment a few weeks back from someone who'd read the translation and came to say thank you to me too, so i'm super grateful to you moon <3

have you ever co-written a fic before? yes, i had the time of my life with @tackytigerfic on dreaming skies and my dream is to write a drarry with them one day if they'll have me. i think there are probably two other people i'd love to co-write with, but i'd be too shy to say!

what's your all-time favourite ship? so basic, but drarry

what's a wip that you want to finish but don't think you ever will? omg i started a fic many MANY moons ago which was actually supposed to be a gift for @vukovich with a fairly morally corrupt draco who works for vice squad and is sent in undercover to let some guy pick him up, and harry's his handler and has to watch him in frustration as he shows off for all the hidden cameras etc. not sure it's something i would write well these days but you never know!

what are your writing strengths? dialogue, pacing (i think)

what are your writing weaknesses? everything that's not dialogue, also i joyfully skip back and forth all over the shop when i'm writing a first draft which means i have to force myself to go back through in order afterwards to make it all make sense. there are better ways, i'm sure, but i really don't care.

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? oh, definitely! what, as opposed to jkr's 'eet ees lucky zat 'e is marrying me'?? yes, no thanks to that. i'm sure i've had some french in there before, and i seem to recall asking people for italian and german advice though i reckon that was like book titles and not dialogue. but definitely i would!

what's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to? oh god, f1, always the one that got away.

what's your favourite fic you've ever written?

nor all that glisters (i'll never not be proud of that as an achievement, especially given the pit of postpartum despair i was in), dreaming skies, or silhouettes

tagging: @tackytigerfic, @maesterchill, @kamaela, @shiftylinguini, @moonflower-rose, @epitomereally, @lemonlimelea, @sorrybutblog, @oknowkiss and anyone else and if you've done it pls lmk so i can hunt it down and reblog <3

[justanothermemestrider]

Nothing Ever Stays Dead - Part 5

Sgt Gadriel x Childhood Friend OC

Good news! Gadriel and Ellie finally have a moment to talk alone.

Bad news! That quiet moment is taking place in a Drukhari ship.

If you missed part 4, you can catch up here :)

I know I probably sound like a broken record at this point, but I am so grateful for all the support this series has had so far. So, all you lovely people, thank you for reading, liking, reblogging and commenting <3

Once again, I've butchered the lore a little bit. But tbh I've been doing that this entire series so hopefully you guys are used to/expect that from me by now 😅

Violence and 40kness under the cut, as well as some light ellusions to some nsfwness at the start. Apologies for spelling and grammar errors, and thank you for your support :D

Love, Memestrider xoxo

When Gadriel walked through their bedroom door, Ellicent had known right away. She'd been dreading it. Praying that it wouldn't happen. But the moment she saw the look on his face, she'd known.

"You've been accepted," she said.

Gadriel closed the door behind him. He let out a tired sigh before turning to face her once more. "I asked if I could return home to say goodbye. They were reluctant, but said yes."

Ellicent closed her eyes. Her knees felt weak, and she sat on the bed lest they give out on her entirely. "Have you told your mother yet?"

Gadriel visibly recoiled from the question. "She said she was happy; that she was proud. But I could tell it was a lie. She wants me to leave about as much as you do."

"Can't say I blame her," Ellicent said.

Gadriel gave her a sad, sympathetic smile. It only infuriated Ellicent more. Taking a seat next to her, he clasped his hands in his lap, eyes fixed on the floor as if ashamed.

"I leave tomorrow," he said quietly.

Ellicent looked at him "Seriously? When?"

"First thing." Still, he refused to meet her gaze. "You and Mum probably won't even be awake yet."

Ellicent bit her lip as a wave of tears threatened to overwhelm her. She was so angry with him. So angry. Why did he have to be so selfless? Why did his heart have to be so noble that he would do something like this for the mere chance of making her and his mother's lives just a little bit better?

"So... What happens next?"

"Well, assuming I pass all of my trials and actually become an Astartes, I can request to have you both transferred to someplace in Ultramar."

"You can request? You mean, it isn't guaranteed?"

"I don't know. It's... It's not a commonly done thing, apparently." Chewing his cheek, Gadriel clenched his hand into fists. "But I'll make it happen. I promise I will."

"You better," Ellicent whispered. "If you can't, then this whole thing would have been for nothing."

They both lapsed into silence. Heavy, tense and melancholic. Tears were flowing freely down Ellicent's cheeks now. The grief she'd been anticipating for months now had broken free of its cage, and is now sewing painful knots in her belly and chest.

Why? She continued to ask herself. Why did it have to be like this? Why did he have to go?

"Ellie?" She felt Gadriel's hand wrap around hers. "Talk to me. Please."

Ellicent sniffed, wiping her eyes with her free hand. She met his gaze and found that he, too, had started to weep.

Her body moved without thinking. Throwing one leg over him, she straddled his lap before pulling him into the fiercest, most passionate kiss she thinks she's ever given him. It took him off guard. So much so, he almost fell backward onto the bed. But he didn't hesitate in returning it. Sliding his hands up her back, he gripped her nape hard, pressing her into him and working his mouth against hers.

The taste of him was wonderful. His scent and touch, the closest things to bliss Ellicent had ever had. And she was about to loose him. The world was trying to take him away. A sob rises into the back of Ellicent's throat. She had to break the kiss in order to let it out. Gadriel cradled her cheeks in his hands, pressed his forehead to hers. He let her take all the time she needed to catch her breath. His own, soft exhales were warm against Ellicent's lips.

Ellicent intertwines her fingers in his hair. It's tangled and coarse, and slightly damp from the humid air outside. But to Ellicent, it's as soft and beautiful as silk.

"I want more, Gadriel," she whispers.

She feels his brows furrow against her forehead. "Do... Do you mean?"

"I do."

"Are you sure?"

She'd expected him to be hesitant. While they had shared a bed for as long as Ellicent had been living with Gadriel and his mother, they'd never slept together. Not for a lack of attraction, of course; Gadriel was easily pretty enough to pass as a high lord's son, and even before he'd started training for the Astartes, his body was a well-sculpted work of soft muscle and olive skin; and while Ellicent is less certain of her own physical attributes, Gadriel has told her time and time again how stunning her figure is, how her eyes reminded him of falling stars.

But even so, their relationship had always been built on emotional intimacy- sex was a line they were yet to crossed.

But Ellicent couldn't wait any longer.

"I am," she said in reply to his question. "I want you, Gadriel. I love you. And if the world is so determined to take you from me tomorrow, I want to have you tonight." Gently, she covers his hands with her own, brushing her thumb across his knuckles. "But of course, all of that is moot unless you'll have me too."

Gadriel's reply is instant. "Of course I will."

"Then please," Ellicent whispered. She pressed her palm against his chest. Felt his now-racing heart beating against her skin.

"Take me."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Welcome to the Dark Star," Ellie says quietly. She hugs her legs a little tighter, resting her temple on her knees so she is facing him.

It's only then that Gadriel notices she's missing her left arm.

"Where's your prostethic?" he asks.

Ellie glances at her empty shoulder socket. Her expression, like her voice, is totally flat. "They took it. Weren't keen on the idea of locking me up with my hyperphase sword." She raps her knuckles on her right knee, making a soft clanging sound. "Let me keep my leg, though. So that's something, I guess."

"But why?" Gadriel asks. "I mean, why are you even here? I thought these xenos were allied with you."

Ellie meets his gaze. Something hot flashes behind her eyes. "They're allied with Severus. Not me."

"But do you not work for him?"

Her next words come out laced with poison. "More like I'm indentured to him."

Despite himself, her words leave Gadriel feeling relieved. I knew it, he thinks. She's not here by choice. She's not a traitor."

"But I see your point," she continues. "And typically, it'd be right: Severus does keep the Dark Eldar off me. But then I fired off that flare and..."

She lapses back into morose silence. Gadriel feels a twinge in his chest unrelated to any of his wounds.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly.

"Don't be," Ellie replies. "It's not your fault. I knew what I was doing, how he would react. I'm just sorry you got hurt because of it."

Gadriel swallows thickly. "I... I'm not just talking about that."

Ellie cocks her head for a moment. "What are you..." Her face suddenly drops. "Oh. Right."

The sad silence returns. Ellie's eyes drop to the floor as she fiddles with a crack in the floor. Small ribbons of light catch her cheeks; tear streaks, Gadriel realises.

He forces himself to take a breath. From the moment he'd seen her again, the same terrible question has been plaguing his mind. But he can't hide from it any longer. Not when they may be so close to death.

"What happened to you, Ellie?" Gadriel asks. "How did you end up involved with... with people like this?"

Her reply is sharp as a blade. "It wasn't willingly. I can tell you that for nothing."

"I'd already guessed as much," Gadriel says gently. "But, truth be told, that only makes me more desperate to know how it all came to pass."

For a long while, Ellie is silent.

"Are you sure?" she finally asks.

The way she says it makes Gadriel's throat close over. "Yes," he answers. "Please."

Ellie goes quiet again. Her gaze returns to the cold, dank floor. "About six months after you left," she says. "Your mother died. Same sickness that killed my Dad. I couldn't stay in the house after that. Too much loss. I swear I could feel it coming out of the walls."

A twinge of grief pangs in Gadriel's chest. He'd already assumed that his mother was likely dead by now- if not from disease, then certainly from age. But nevertheless, the confirmation from Ellie still stings.

"I lived off the streets after that," she continues. "You know, stealing from topsiders, raiding trash piles, fighting for the best abandoned building to sleep in for the night; all the standard type stuff." She lets out a sigh. "Then Severus showed up.

"I don't know how much you know about him, from your mission briefing or whatever, but his main shtick is that he's a slaver. A trafficker. He and his cronies zip around the galaxy, visiting feral hive worlds and plucking healthy-looking vagrants off the streets to... Well, to do whatever he wants."

Gadriel swallows the lump in his throat. "And he..."

"Yup."

"Throne, Ellie."

With her one remaining shoulder, Ellie shrugs. "Wasn't just me. He probably took about a hundred people in the end. I was taken in my sleep. Hit over the head, woke up in the belly of some disgusting cargo bay." Briefly, she looks around her cell. "It wasn't too dissimilar to this, actually. Except a lot less roomy, with more people crammed inside. Most of the people Severus takes are to sell- that's what he's allied with the Dark Eldar for. But sometimes, he'll come across someone he takes a liking to, and he'll keep them as his own."

Once more, Gadriel's mouth fills with acidic bile, and the corners of his vision turn from black to red. When Ellie sees the look on his face, she forces a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, it wasn't like that. Not with me, anyway. Only reason he liked me was 'cause I could handle myself in a fight. He saw a killer in me, not a play-thing. Probably the only stroke of luck I've had during this whole thing."

The only thing Gadriel can think to do is nod. "How about your arm and leg?" he asks. "How'd you loose them?"

"I didn't loose them," Ellie says. "Severus took them."

"He took them?"

She nods. "He'd have taken the others too, if he'd had enough necron parts lying around. But he only had a left arm and right leg, so that was all he could replace." She touches her empty shoulder socket. A soft, harsh laugh slips from her lips. "Another stroke of luck on my part, I guess.

"He made me his hit-man," she continues. "His errand girl."Defend this cargo, Ellicent. Kill this officer, Ellicent. I've got a pack of space marines coming after me, so set a trap for 'em and kill them for me, Ellicent. If you refuse me again, I'll let the Drukhari have you, and you'll be begging me to take you back." That was my life. For fifty years. And the cybernetics, they affected the rest of my body. Hardened my bones, slowed my aging right down. Meant death was hard to come by; even when I wanted it to."

Her voice is so full of emotion, it almost sounds devoid of it. Like an overloaded fuse, there is so much pain in her words, she can't possibly express it anymore. Gadriel's eyes well with tears. He can't stand this. All of these things happening to Ellicent. His Ellie. The girl he's loved from the moment he was old enough to understand what love even was.

All these things have happened to her, and I didn't save her. I didn't even try.

The silence that falls between them is a physical presence, one of hurt, foreboding and grief. Gadriel's wounds continue to scream at him, but compared to those coming from his hearts, they're little more than whimpers.

"So," Ellie mutters. "Now that you know all of that, I have to ask..."

Gadriel closes his eyes. He waits for her next words he were waiting for an executioner's axe to fall.

"Do you still remember the night before you left?"

The question takes him completely off-guard. And the memory it brings... Gadriel can't help but smile. "Of course," he says.

Ellie nods. "Do you remember what you said to me? When it's was all over?"

As quickly as it had come, his smile dies. "I said I loved you."

"Before that."

Gadriel averts his eyes. "I said I'd come back."

"No," Ellie replies. "You didn't just say it. You promised me. You looked me in the eye and you swore it."

"... I... I know."

"So why didn't you?"

Gadriel goes to chew the inside of his cheek, but winces as his teeth grate broken, bleeding skin. Seems the Dark Eldar's poison has kept even that wound from closing, too.

"And don't lie to me, okay?" Ellie adds. Her tone isn't accusatory; instead, it's almost a plea. "I don't want... poor excuses or anything like that. I just want the truth. No matter what it is. Surely I deserve that, at least."

"Of course you do," Gadriel says.

Ellie doesn't reply, but her silence indicates she's waiting for him to continue.

Gadriel looks down at his hands. Already, they're slick again with his own blood.

He takes a deep breath, ignoring the pangs of protest the movement sparks from his wounds, and clenches his hands into fists. "Do you know what re-education is?" he asks.

"No," she answers.

"It's the psychological aspect of Astartes' creation. Just as thorough and invasive as the surgeries and the physical training. But, arguably, it's more important than both."

He hears Ellie shift in her seat. "I don't think I like where this is going," she mutters.

Gadriel exhales hard through his nose. This time, the spike of pain that follows is enough to make him grimace. "I didn't even know it was a part of the process until it was happening to me," he says. "But if I did... I don't think I'd have joined."

The astonishment is Ellie's voice is tangible. "Do you really mean that?"

"I told you I wouldn't lie, didn't I?"

For a while, Ellie is quiet. "What did they do?" she asks softly.

Gadriel closes his eyes. His thoughts suddenly don't feel like his own. The very thing he's trying to tell her about, it doesn't want him to. It's fighting him. Filling his lungs with stones so he cannot speak, hijacking his thoughts to he cannot remember. But Gadriel refuses it. Pulling his eyes up from his fists, he looks at Ellie's face, takes in her scarlet hair and twinkling eyes. He uses them as anchors. As lifelines. For fifty years he's let this thing stand between him and the one he loves. He'll be damned if he's going to let it happen again.

"We were hypnotised," he says. "Then for days, we were fed these pict-casts and vox-recordings. I don't know what they were, but they had been developed by psycho encoders. They were meant to indoctrinate us, I suppose. I don't really remember much from those weeks, only that it was... unpleasant. I remember my throat being very sore after the end of every session. Like all I'd done the entire time was scream."

"You probably did," Ellie says quietly.

Gadriel doesn't respond to that. He doesn't know how. "After that," he continues, dropping his gaze again. "They let Librarians- psykers- into our minds. Again, I... don't really know what they did. But as I think about it now... It was after I'd had those sessions that my life before the Astartes became difficult to recall."

"Difficult how?"

"As in, it felt like a dream," Gadriel says. "Like a fantasy. You and Mum- you were... figments of my imagination. You weren't real. Nothing that came before my becoming an Astartes was real."

"Until you saw me again," Ellie whispers.

Gadriel feels tears prick his eyes. "Until I saw you again. After that, everything came back with startling clarity."

He musters the courage to look at her again. The expression he finds on her face almost breaks him.

"So..." she whispers. "So you never abandoned me."

It's not a question, so much as a statement. Tears roll down her cheeks again, but there's a smile on her face.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, Gadriel pushes himself off the wall. He crawls up to the bar wall on his knees, collapsing against it as consciousness threatens to leave him once again. Grimacing, he clutches one hand on the hole in his stomach. But the other, finds Ellie's hand. "If I had known I would've been forced to forget you," he rasps. "I'd have never joined the Astartes. I mean that. From the bottom of both my hearts, I mean it."

Ellie chokes on a stifled sob. Bringing his hand to her lips, she kisses his knuckles. "I'm sorry, Gadriel. I'm sorry I doubted you. I never should've. I should've known-"

"You should've known no such thing," Gadriel murmurs. "And you had every right to resent me."

Tears are rolling down his cheeks now, too. Dropping his hand, Ellie sidles up closer, reaches through the bars and gently wipes them away with her thumb. Her skin is rough with callouses- far more so than he ever remembered. But right now, it's the softest, more comforting thing Gadriel has felt in a long time.

"If these bars weren't in the way I would kiss you right now," Ellie says.

Gadriel smiles softly. "You took the words right out of my mouth."

Footsteps outside his cell make both of them turn.

Long shadows creep up the hallway's wall, moving in time with the steps. Gadriel doesn't need to wait, however, to know exactly who they belong to.

"Wakey wakey, space marine!" The voice is gravelly, feminine, and undeniably inhuman. "Someone wants to see you."

The Dark Eldar wyche prowls up the Gadriel's cell door, clad in leather and bone and wielding a spear. She unlocks the door with a click, before dragging it open and slipping inside.

"No," Ellie says, gripping Gadriel's hand.

Gadriel pulls free to cup her cheek. "Let go, Ellie. It's okay."

"No it isn't. It's-"

Through the bars, the wyche slams the butt of her spear into Ellie's face. Gadriel shouts her name, but the word devolves into a cry as the dark eldar kicks him in his wounded side. "Come on now," she purrs. "Cut that out. There'll be plenty of time for screaming later."

Dark spots flash before Gadriel's vision. The agony in his side is so intense, he can barely even draw breath. Grabbing him by the back of his undersuit's collar, the wyche drags him from his cell. The furious, desperate screams of Ellie follows them all the way down the hall.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I'm sorry to have to do another cliff hanger. The wait for part 6 shouldn't be too long, I promise.

Thanks again for reading, and please let me know what you think of the story so far! Your comments and tags are literally food for my soul ^^

Taglist: @solspina @beckyninja @egrets-not-regrets @wolf-feathers12 @jaghatai-khock @lemon-russ @moodymisty @hatsubara-8chan @nereidof40k @yanagikou @fyxestroll @yurihasurunbara @lylakoi @justfreakynothingelse

[the-invisibility-bloke]

fic writer interview

Thanks for the tags, @galaxostars, @microdamage, @shoopsthereitis, and @wolfpants! I love your deep dives, so much of y'all's on my TBR.

How many works do you have on ao3? 40

What is your total wordcount? 468,229

Top 5 stories by kudos: (please don't perceive these, I loathe my old work) now we walk, manie sans delire, Five Times Walter Meets Jesse and One Time He Says Goodbye, don't give me your heart i can't take it, blindsight

Do you respond to comments? Always <3

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? ​Hmm how 'bout the Starcest where Reg DIES​ (don't come for me it was by request)

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending? Most have happy endings (heh), but I think this one's extra sweet bc Teddy's a lil honeybear (which sounds dirtywrong so all the better)

Do you write crossovers? Not unless you count the one in the next question

Have you received hate for a fic? Rarely because I disable guest comments. 😅 The artist and I both got death threats for this blip on the radar, which is especially hilarious because it's hardly my most problematique work. (It also scared the artist out of the fandom, which is. Less hilarious. Fuck antis.)

Do you write smut? With great disdain (my style is ill-suited to action/logistics)

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Reposted but not plagiarized, I’m way too niche to attract that attention 😂

Have you ever had a fic translated? My Breaking Bad fic, randomly enough

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Kinda, or do artist collabs count? Those are the frosting on fandom cake.

What is your all-time favourite ship? A multishipper's nightmare. Gotta be the Sirry > Heddy or Sirry > Drarry > Tedrarry pipeline. Sirius died so Tedrarry could live.

What's a WIP you want to finish but don't think you ever will? ​My Gauntcest... it's all outlined, but I have to go where the hyper fixates

What are your writing strengths? ​Turn of phrase, dialogue​, ​cadence, emotion

What are your writing weaknesses? *cracks knuckles* Plot, action, pacing, versatility (I am not as well read as many of my counterparts because yep I’ll admit it, most tradpub bores me), the balance between ​poetic prose and character voice. I get Artax-swamped in descriptors, I recycle metaphors, I'm a cringey tryhard in the face of transitions, never know if they land and I can't ever leave a sentence bare. I know, I know sometimes you can just say "He walked to the door" but good sir no I cannot.​ I could parse my shortcomings at the dissertation level... oh... oh maybe a ppt... El’s Insecurities: A Treatise.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in another language? I love the immersiveness and/or hotness, but I’m biased because I usually only run across French and I can muddle through. If you’re unfamiliar with the language it might be hard to follow. (I’ve seen translation footnote links, which, genius, can a tech-savvy gen Z teach me this?)

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written yet but would like to? ​Jalbus. Dralbus. Scarry. Drarry/Scorbus OT4. (Does Draco/Scorpius have a ship name? Scorco and Drapius are… yikes. Malfoycest it is.) Drarry as a two-wheeler and not a tricycle (soon soon soon).

What's your favourite fic you've ever written? ​Passion cools fast for me, but I like my Tedrarry. It got the biggest dose of my wit and sold me on Drarry (which, fail, given I wrote it for a rarepair exchange).

Everyone's already done this, I think? If you haven’t, tag you’re it, @ me. 🩵

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Another year has passed, and with it the opportunity to reflect back on all that has happened. While my growth was not as dramatic as last year, I can still see lots of positive change.

I'll never have enough ways to say thank you for all the love and support you have given me this year. On to 2025!

(2023 summary here!)

[btslittlecorner]

HAPPY NEW YEAR AND HAPPY BTS COMEBACK YEAR!! ✨🎉🎆🥂💜

May 2025 be full of heatlh, happiness and good moments.

[keepmovinjunior]

.

[proto-language]

hrngnfghnfg

[ddejavvu]

Mean!Logan who absolutely will NOT kiss you on the mouth while he’s fucking you. You’re crying and begging and so so desperate for it but he just will not give in, loves to watch you cry and cry even while your whole body shakes and your eyes roll back from how deep he is in you

Logan won't kiss you

send me mean!logan requests!

contents/warnings: mean!logan, teasing, dacryphilia, don't like don't read.

a/n: anon i hope you know this made me moan. shit the first line almost had me creaming my jeans. thank you <33333333333

It's a tease, being given so much and yet nothing at all. Logan's strong hips are steadily thrusting against your own, driving his cock in and out of your cunt that begs for nothing more, but you're being held tantalizingly close to the precipice of your orgasm solely from the denial of a kiss.

Logan's mouth is heaven.

Whether against your own or against another part of you, your sensitive nipples or your throbbing pussy, his mouth has always brought you to completion. You yearn for it now, with sharp aches and pleas from your drooling cunt as he fucks into you, but he refuses to give you what you want- what you need.

"What's'a matter?" He drawls, and by the condescension in his voice, by the sharp, rigid smirk on the mouth of his that you want so bad, you know he knows, "What gives, you don't like me or somethin'?"

"Logan," You whine for mercy, tears beading in your eyes as you grip his biceps and attempt to hoist yourself up to kiss him. He deflects skillfully, pushing you back down to the mattress.

"No, no, don't be greedy. My dick isn't enough? Looks like it is." He muses, eyeing the way your cunt slobbers on his length, coating it generously in your thick, slick arousal.

"Look at you, you're ruined," Logan scoffs, panting through the continuous motions of his hips, "And you still want more."

"I want a kiss," You feel pitiful whining like that, and he laughs like you are.

"Oh, princess wants a kiss, is that it? All this cock and what you really want is my mouth?"

"Yes," You gasp, tears flooding down your cheeks at the contempt in his eyes, even if its staged, "Please Logan, please, I jus- I just want one kiss, please." You try yet again to raise your head, but he won't take the bait- he sneers like you're nothing but an annoyance.

"No." He decides simply, hips only snapping faster and faster, harder and harder into your cunt, "You have enough. Use it."

You do. You clench around his cock, thighs squeezed together so that your entrance is as tight as possible. You feel every inch of his impressive length as it pounds in and out of your pussy, you feel pleasure in every fiber of your being, and yet- it's the visual of Logan's tongue flicking out over his lips after a hefty exhale that finally sends your brain and body into overdrive.

His lips, thin and a shade pinker than his skin, look so enticing, and the way that his tongue laves over them leaving translucent saliva behind sends sparks between your legs like nothing you've ever felt without Logan's mouth. You wish it was yours, you wish his tongue was dipping into your mouth the way it does so often, licking every inch of your skin, tasting every part of you there ever has been.

You cum hard and you cum almost painfully, writhing on the bed covered in tears and sweat. There's surely a pool of slick beneath your ass on the bed from where your cunt has drooled onto the sheets but Logan will clean it up later- if you're lucky, from you with the mouth you're still fantasizing about.

"There, that wasn't hard," Logan hums, crooning tenderly like he's taking care of you as he finally dips down to press a firm kiss against the slack ring of your mouth. It's late, but better than never. You exhale shakily as he kisses you, a balm to soothe the hurt feelings of his denial, and he chuckles as you twitch beneath him. He leaves his cock buried in your warm, twitching cunt- he hasn't finished himself, but he'll feed his cock down your throat later- anytime you cum and he doesn't you offer to help him out. Watching the way that your eyes blink hazily at him post-kiss is certainly helping him along, and he won't take long up against the warm wet seal of your mouth.

"Poor thing is sensitive." He nudges his nose against your own, muscles bulging as he keeps himself hovering over you, "Can't handle being used, hm? Gotta be loved?"

"I love you," You whisper pitifully, chasing his mouth with a desperate, sticky kiss of your own, "Logan, I- I love you, mm-"

"Alright, alright." He mumbles through your sloppy attempts at kissing him, muffled by your lips, "Alright, crybaby, 'love you too."

[heartswithinreach]

your post about sylus essentially conditioning the reader to sit on his lap hasjsakddf that was so perfect and in character 😭 i love it sm its given me so much brain rot - how bout this:

can i request the lads boys reaction to the reader randomly asking to be carried/picked up in the middle of walking? for no other reason just to see how'd they react lol

LaDS casually carrying MC

Xavier

The most casual. He just smiles at you and asks, "Bridal or piggyback?" in the same tone as if he's asking what you want to eat.

And he's not just playing along. He means it. He wants to be the one you lean on — metaphorically and literally.

You can try and backtrack but then you'll get those eyes. The bluest puppy dog eyes that can break the strongest of wills. "Are you sure? We still have a few blocks to go to the café, I don’t want you to get tired..."

You feel like you're holding out on him by not letting him carry you. The mind tricks this man is capable of to get what he wants are ridiculous.

You fold embarrassingly fast and Xavier is happy as can be with you on his back, your arms and legs around him like a full-body embrace. He can see the tactical advantage to carrying you like this during missions, too.

Rafayel

"You want me to carry you?“ Rafayel scoffs. “What if I pulled a muscle in my arm and couldn't draw for a week? No thank you!"

He refuses until you ask if it's not that he doesn't want to carry you, but that he can't.

Now you've wounded his pride. He might not be the God of the Sea anymore, but he can't let this go unanswered! Rafayel will be on you relentlessly to let him pick you up, no matter how long it takes.

"Whoa, be careful, cutie! There's no telling how deep these puddles are from all the rain — you're super lucky your boyfriend is here to carry you to safety."

When you finally break and let him do it just so he can prove a point, he realizes he likes this way more than he thought he would. You're like his adorable little prisoner and the only way you're getting out is in praise and smooches. This will become a regular thing, I fear.

Zayne

“I told you to wear more comfortable shoes.”

Zayne inwardly grins at how quickly you deflate at his blunt response. It's adorable.

But Zayne has a hard time denying you something so innocent as wanting to be close to him. So he guides your arm to wrap around his shoulders and picks you up with a strength that always takes you by surprise.

He waits for you to settle comfortably in his arms before he starts walking. He's aware of the disapproving stares from the people around you and not too long ago, he would've been one of them. How quickly his perspective has changed because of you.

Zayne is brought out of his thoughts when he feels you peck his cheek and now you get that oh so familiar look of gentle reproach from him. "I am working on being more affectionate but I'm not there yet, MC. Now, behave or your ride will end early."

Sylus

Sylus is so caught off guard that, for once, you can see his entire thought process play out through his expressions.

Surprise at your request, suspicion you're just toying with him, the realization you're being somewhat serious, and then the most gratified look you've ever seen on his stupid smug face.

Now you’re speaking his language. So delighted you’re finally catching on, he just picks you up and continues on his way without breaking his stride.

However, you didn't specify how he should carry you. So you're draped over Sylus's shoulder and to keep you there, his hand is dangerously high up on your thigh for being in public. The smack on your ass is so inevitable, you can feel it like it's already happened.

"You just said you were tired, now you want me to put you down? You need to learn to make up your mind, kitten. I'll just carry you until you're sure of what you want."

[thepitlanepress]

WHAT ARE YOU DOING? –

↳ max verstappen + gf!mom!reader

⌗ :: masterlist

⌗ :: a/n: since i have the emotional and mental stamina and strength of a decaying cabbage rn this idea has graciously been given to me by my other half @arqbella so big thanks to her for this <3 this is also a short one bc as stated earlier decaying cabbage

"liefje?" max's calls out from the kitchen.

he usually expects an answer within the range of three to forty seconds. if you're super distracted a minute tops. you've alway had this thing- no matter what, whenever max calls you, you somehow hear him every time.

he thinks you also just like it when he calls you liefje or any nickname in dutch. your favorite is liefje though, as you've told him oh so many times.

because who wouldn't want to be called liefje by max verstappen are the exact words you use.

so when you don't answer him for a solid five minutes, he goes searching. he's hopeless at this recipe and needs your expertise before he blows the kitchen up.

"liefje?" max calls out again, still no answer. you must be upstairs somewhere with the baby then.

when he reaches the second floor he calls out your name again, but still no answer.

what is going on?

and being the dedicated boyfriend that he is, he gives up on his search and starts to return to the kitchen hoping things didn't explode in the kitchen while he was gone. surely he can work out how follow the instructions and have a perfect little surprise for you when you come down stairs.

just when he reaches the top step he hears your voice. its higher pitched and it sounds like you're mumbling nonsense so you must be talking to the baby.

whenever he stumbles in on you with the baby you always seems to be singing, or talking, or even gossiping to your little girl, who stares back at you with wide eyes - and an adorable face.

he decides the kitchen will be safe without him - what a mistake that was - and follows the two of his favorite sounds in the world. your voice and your baby's laugh.

he gently pushes the door open and leans on the door frame as he- what are you singing?

"du du du du max verstappen," you coo to the little bundle in you arms. "du du du du max verstappen!" you bounce about causing a little laugh to erupt out of your daughter.

"what are you doing, liefje?" max asks a mix between a smile and a frown on his face.

"i'm singing our daughter a song that i like," is all you supply.

"really because it sounds awful lot like the song that i don't like."

"i'm educating our child on how her papa is a famous f1 driver."

"i think the excessive amount of f1 things in this room will do- its practically a shrine, liefje."

"i happen to like it," you huff at max and smile at your daughter. "and so does she, look at her face, see? she loves it."

"i think she loves the fact that her mama is singing and dancing with her," he points out he says pushing off the doorframe and coming to stand beside you and look over you shoulder at the little girl in your arms.

you both stand there for a mometn just savouring the little peace and memory that you'll most likely keep for a long while.

well that was until, "du du du du max verstappen."

"really?"

2025 © thepitlanepress | please do not steal, use, translate or repost any of my works

– comments and reblogs appreciated

[yazmarina]

walk me through it

for the love circuit series

—you're used to being flirted with in front of the camera. but something about franco is really doing you in.

franco colapinto (f1) x fem!reporter reader

warnings/notes: smut, unprotected sex (no condom, yes birth control), guided masturbation, lewd photography, lots of flirting, franco is shameless (naturally), some Spanish sentences and phrases

a/n: will resume hit play for a bit after this one! enjoy franco girlies mwa

Your job was simple enough. Well, for today, at least.

Stand in the media pen, gather statements, and piece together a couple of stories later that evening for publishing first thing tomorrow morning. All in a day's work, like all the other days before.

You've grown immune to the charms of rich, adrenaline-seeking men. Didn't take you too long, the illusion breaking as soon as any one of them opened their mouths. Some you tolerate more than others, but some you'd rather steer clear of completely.

This isn't to say that you've brushed all of them off. You might have agreed to a date here and there but nothing ever stuck, the nature of your jobs a bit too similar and all too different at the same time. You've given up on the prospect that you'll somehow end up with one of the many Formula 1 drivers you've interviewed and spoken to. And you've spoken to a lot. You've had this gig since you were shipped off fresh from uni and one too many 'What happened there?'s and 'Tell me about qualifying's can put a damper on the romantic side of things.

But someone new's in town. Well, er, new in the paddock. And you'd be lying if you said you weren't even a little bit excited.

He's charming, that much you can already tell. He walks into the media pen like he's done it thousands of times before and you have to actively suppress a smile as he walks over. Confidence is always a plus. For the interview, of course.

"Hola, Franco. Antes que nada, enhorabuena," you greet warmly, extending your arm over the barrier to place the microphone nearer to him. Hi, Franco. First of all, congratulations.

Franc's eyebrows shoot up, a wolfish grin settling on his face. "Oh. I thought this was an English interview?"

You smile back. "It is, but I know my way around Spanish, as well."

"Ah," Franco nods. "Gracias, _______."

"You know my name?" You ask, momentarily forgetting that you're being taped and recorded. You clear your throat, ignoring the quiet snicker from your cameraman.

"Yeah, I've seen you around and watched some of your other interviews," Franco confirms, a hand settling on his hip as he leans against the barrier, closer to you.

You can smell his perfume from where you stand.

"Thank you, I've heard and seen a lot about you as well," you respond, trying to return to your original train of thought.

"Which is why I want to ask you how it feels on your first day as a Formula 1 driver," you quickly follow. "Have you done anything special to prepare for this weekend? Other than the obvious, of course."

Another easy smile spreads across Franco's lips. "I've definitely added to my training and done some new things to prepare. I haven't done a full F1 weekend before so everything will be new."

"We definitely don't have reporters like you in the lower Formulas," he adds.

You feel a violent blush rip up through your neck all the way to your cheeks. As if the Monza heat wasn't enough.

"Well, I'm glad you could meet me here," you manage to get out.

The thing is, Franco isn't even the most attractive driver you've met. He's definitely up there, but not the most.

That's a discussion you have with yourself semi-weekly: ranking the drivers in terms of attractiveness, factoring in personalities and general attitudes towards the people around them, specifically the media.

Look, people love to shit on the media and press, calling journalism all sorts of derogatory words, but you're just here to do your job, like anyone else. And it gets pretty fucking hard when your boss is ringing your phone every five minutes demanding four stories by tomorrow and drivers are sassing you out as if you asked them if they've murdered their whole family.

So, naturally, the way they treat you determines a big chunk of how you think your day is going to pan out.

And right now, Franco seems to be lifting your spirits just fine.

"What are your goals for this weekend? Are points on the horizon for you at your first F1 race?" You continue, trying not to stare at the way Franco starts to rub at the back of his neck, bashful all of a sudden.

"We'll try," Franco begins. He plants both his hands on the barrier and leans even closer. You have to physically take a step back.

You gulp. Franco smiles.

"Anything is possible this weekend."

-

"You broke the internet last night."

You scoff, sending your cameraman a vicious side-eye. It's crowded in the paddock today, everyone wanting to get a glimpse of the new rookie, it seems. Such is the eagerness for this young driver that even that 30-second clip of your interview with him blew right up in your face. Your inboxes at capacity, your own voice speaking back to you with every other swipe on your TikTok.

It's not all bad, though. A tweet with one of your Instagram photos attached to it captioned 'TE ENTIENDO MUCHO FRANCO ES MUY LINDA PERIODISTA' did weasel out a chuckle from you.

Your cameraman shrugs, gesturing with a jerk of his head in front of you.

"There he is. I'm sure he knows all about it."

You look over to where he's pointing and lo and behold, Franco is right there, chatting with a few Williams team members, his race suit hanging undone around his waist. He turns to you even before you can fully register that it's him you're looking at.

But your training kicks in even faster. A megawatt smile appears on your lips and you wave enthusiastically at Franco.

"Hi."

"_______," Franco says, face lighting up at the sight of you. Your name seems to fall even more effortlessly off his lips.

You reach over and pull him into a half-hug with one arm, but both his arms wind around you and you have no choice but to squeeze back.

"You saw?" Franco asks, a gleam in his eye as he pulls away. His hand remains casually on the small of your back.

"Saw what?" You know what it is he's asking but you'd like to hear it from him.

"We went viral, no?" Franco says with a laugh, reaching further around you and squeezing your waist. You lean into his touch, heart jumping as his fingers graze just underneath your cropped top.

"That's all because of you," you reason, pointing an accusatory finger at Franco. "I bet you say that to all the other reporters."

The Williams team members standing nearby burst out laughing and even your cameraman affords a snicker. A deep blush spreads across Franco's face as he rubs your side reassuringly.

"No, no, I don't. Just you," Franco admits with another lighthearted laugh.

"Sure," you say with exaggerated skepticism. You pull away from his touch, catching his hand before he slips it fully off of you.

"I'll talk to you later," you say. And it's fully intentional, the words you choose to say. I'll talk to you later. Not 'I'll catch you later' or 'I'll see you later'.

I will talk to you later.

Franco understands, giving your hand a squeeze.

-

Later that day, you pray that no one catches you grinning behind your hand as Franco takes the chequered flag at qualifying.

P11.

Almost there.

-

"Hi. Come in."

Franco beams at you from across the threshold, stepping into your room with slow, measured steps.

"Great qualifying," you compliment, eyes traveling down Franco's body, noting the way his team kit hugs his frame just right, his hands shoved into his pockets, exposing just his arms, veins and all.

Your eyes snap back up to his face when you hear the door shut in place.

"Q2 on your debut. Not bad," you go on, taking a step back. Franco takes one toward you.

"You're just repeating what you said at the media pen earlier," Franco points out. He reaches out and gently circles an arm around your waist.

Always straight to the point.

Like this morning.

You tried not to make it so obvious when you ran into Franco earlier, but all you could think about was The Message.

You were doing your cursory social media checks a few minutes after you had woken up, still snug in your bed and unwilling to get up just yet. A message in your Instagram inbox caught your attention, sitting at the very top of your 'verified followers' tab.

Franco Colapinto: hola, hermosa 😉

It took a minute for your motor functions to return, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you pored over what to reply. You settled on a nonchalant greeting, asking if Franco needed anything.

You realized rather belatedly that this was looking a little familiar. You wished he wouldn't say the dreaded answer, the more-than-predictable response that every man liked to use.

Franco Colapinto: you, maybe?

You groaned into your pillow, not because you were repulsed by his answer, but because you liked it. If you were easy, then so was he.

You: i finish work at 9 pm tonight...? 👀

It's 9 PM now. Franco's in the room and your hand is running up his chest.

Easy.

"It's such an honor," Franco teases, backing you up further into the room. His hands feel heavy on your waist and your heart hammers against your chest.

"I get to work with people like you now," Franco continues, stopping right in front of the bed.

The kiss comes as a shock more so because of how good Franco kisses. One of his hands is now cradling the back of your head, keeping you in place while he licks into your mouth, groaning with every pucker of your lips.

You pull away for barely a second to get both of your tops off before you dive back in, seemingly too desperate and too starved for each other's mouths. Franco's hands are everywhere; they run down your arms, paw at your waist, tugging at the belt loops of your jeans.

You giggle as he pulls you even closer, your bare chests pressed against each other. Franco pulls back and peers down at you, reaching behind to unclasp your bra. You let it fall, already guiding one of his hands to your tits.

"Couldn't stop staring at them?" You ask, your voice rising with an innocent lilt.

Franco kneads at the mound beneath his hand, eliciting a moan from you. He grins.

"I wanted you to notice," Franco admits simply, kissing you again.

"Perv," you mumble against his lips. Franco laughs, already undoing his trousers.

You wiggle your own way out of your jeans, letting Franco get the shortest of glimpses at your baby pink underwear before you discard them off to the side.

"Mierda, you're so sexy," Franco compliments as you crawl backward onto the bed, laying back and letting your hair splay out beneath you.

Franco pounces on you like a man starved, bare atop your own naked body, his arms caging you in.

"Big moves from somebody so new," you whisper, carding your fingers through Franco's soft locks.

"I like to make a statement," Franco says with a shrug. He glances up momentarily, something piquing his interest off to the side.

"Is that your camera?"

You crane your neck to see where he's looking and sure enough, your personal DSLR is right there on the bedside drawer. You look back at Franco, an eyebrow raised.

"You wanna use it?" You ask, not expecting him to actually say yes. But a mischievous grin settles on Franco's face and you feel your heart skip several beats.

"Knock yourself out," you say.

Franco reaches for the camera and fiddles with it for a few seconds. His eyes scan over your body and you suddenly feel the urge to hide away with how hard he's looking.

"May I?" Franco asks, brandishing the camera. Your mouth falls open as you realize what he's asking.

"You can keep them for yourself. For your eyes only," Franco hurriedly adds, planting his knees firmly on either side of you.

You stare up at him, a million thoughts running through your mind.

"Just...touch yourself."

You gasp, stunned at his proposal. Franco watches through the LCD monitor, glancing up at you through his lashes. Your bottom lip slips between your teeth, and as if on instinct, your hand inches down slowly between your legs.

"You're in front of cameras all the time," Franco reminds with a smirk. "This should be easy for you."

You suppress a whimper at his words, your fingertips swiping through your slick folds. You're already soaked and you start to wonder if it started even before Franco got here.

The shutter clicks and the lens whirs, sharp against the soft breaths you're letting out. Franco is concentrated, snapping photo after photo as you rub yourself closer to release. But it's not enough. You need more.

"Franco...," you implore, peering up with bright, begging eyes.

"Slowly, mi amor," Franco coos. "Just where you like it. Right there."

Click.

"Harder now, but still slow. Yes? Feels good?"

You whine, eyes fluttering shut as your pleasure picks up again. Several clicks. You're panting now, the tendrils of release wrapping themselves around you.

"Faster, yes, like that," Franco eggs on. Your fingers speed up against your sensitive clit and a litany of Franco's name spills from your lips. Before you know it, he's putting the camera away. You reach for him, gripping the back of his neck as he smashes his lips into yours.

Franco bites down on your lip and you cry out, your orgasm washing over you like a tide. You arch against Franco, feeling his own stiffness heavy on your thigh.

You blink, Franco's face coming into focus, barely an inch from yours. He watches you closely, pupils blown wide and plump lips even redder. You hook your legs around his waist, letting him know that you're not done yet.

Franco is quick to pick up, smiling as lines himself up with you. The groan that escapes him is nothing short of delicious as he pushes himself in. You gasp along, the stretch a welcome sensation.

Franco wastes no time and pounds right into you, catching you by surprise. You let your head fall back against the mattress, a long, drawn-out whine erupting from deep within your chest as Franco licks a stripe up your neck.

Your whole body quakes with how hard he's thrusting into you but you're clearly enjoying it if your wanton moans are anything to go by. Franco meets your eyes and you pull him down, wanting nothing more than to drown in those lips of his.

It's feral and it's unrestrained, spurred on by the knowledge that this is more than unprofessional in your line of work. Not illegal by any means, but risky enough to warrant warnings from your coworkers. Never sleep with a driver unless you're committed.

Oh, well.

Franco groans loudly in your ear, movements losing their rhythm as he speeds up. You're clinging to him as if he'd disappear if you let go, your own belly tightening once more with that familiar feeling.

Franco. Franco. Franco.

He kisses you just as he finishes. Passionate, eager, heady. You feel him inside you, a different kind of elation filling you as you release all over him.

Franco pulls away to allow yourselves to breathe. He pulls out, rolling over to your side. You hug your folded knees to your chest, too lazy to get up and find something to deal with the mess.

"No hagas eso. Eso es demasiado doméstico," Franco jokes, moving closer and planting a kiss to your shoulder. Don't do that. That's too domestic.

"Relájate, estoy usando anticonceptiva," you reassure with a lighthearted roll of your eyes. Relax, I'm on birth control.

Franco hums, laying an arm over you. He pulls you close and you face him, reaching up to brush away some of his unruly hair.

He plants a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Happy that you're a Formula 1 driver?" You ask, grinning.

Franco chuckles. "Very."

[cupidhoons]

HABITS ✶ ENHYPEN HYUNG LINE

( M.LIST ) ╱ f! reader 𓈒𓈒𓈒 skinship fluff crying headcanons + scenarios lowercase intended ─── s. little habits the enhypen hyung line has when dating you

heeseung : stuffing his face into the crook of your neck. he absolutely loves doing this, especially on days where he misses you a little more than usual. it's a habit that always makes butterflies swarm in your tummy each time he does it. he’ll do it on any random occasion, whether it's him getting jealous over a random guy at the convenience store or just simply doing it just because he wants to be physical with you.

“hi baby,” he says, snaking his arms around your waist from behind as he watches you make the final touches of your makeup, observing you through your vanity mirror. “you almost done, pretty?”

you hum in response, meticulously applying your lip gloss. you feel heeseung let out a breathy sigh against your neck, seeing as his head found its spot against the skin of your neck. you giggle at his intimate action as he places small, gentle kisses on the side of your neck. “hee, i’m finished.” 

he mumbles into your neck mindlessly, inhaling the perfume that he gifted you not that long ago. “you smell nice…” 

“thank you baby,” you say, giggling at his compliment as you watch him intently through your mirror. “hee we have to go…we’re late enough.” 

“5 more minutes, baby. i can't seem to pry myself off of you.” he mumbles into your neck, continuing to nip at your soft skin. 

jay : back hugging you. he loves doing this to you, especially after getting off of work and coming back to you finishing up dinner for the both of you. like heeseung, however, he’ll do this at any given moment. you could be checking yourself out in the mirror, making sure your outfit looks nice for your date with jay, until he comes in the room to give you a hug from behind. 

you were smoothing out your dress, running a hand through your hair as you looked at your figure in the mirror. jay was waiting patiently on your shared bed, scrolling on his phone mindlessly. 

“jay,” you say, grabbing his attention immediately. he hums in response, looking at your standing figure through the bedroom mirror. “do i look okay?” you ask intently. 

he stares at you, as if mesmerized by your beauty (he was, for the record). you see him get up and walk over towards you in the mirror, his arms wrapping around your waist as interlocks his hands with yours. “you look more than okay, love. you're beautiful.” he says, placing a kiss on your cheek, making you smile wider than ever.

jake : giving you random kisses throughout the day. jake cannot live without your lips on his. this man is obsessed with your lips and he looks forward to kissing them every waking moment. he truly cannot go a day without kissing you, otherwise he’ll go crazy. you could be doing absolutely anything and he’d go up to you just to plant a kiss on your lips. or when he's in a super playful and energetic mood, he’ll attack you with kisses all over your face, making it impossible for you to focus on your show. 

“jake!” you say between laughs, desperately trying to pull away from his kisses. you both were at home, quietly enjoying each other’s company until he decided to come out of absolutely nowhere to attack you with his lips. “that tickles! stop!” 

“no! you've been watching gossip girl for far too long now! pay attention to me!” he replies, smothering you with kisses on your forehead, cheeks, lips, and down to your neck. 

“ja-” you start, before getting interrupted by a messy kiss on your lips. though it wasn't a peck this time, but rather a long and more intense kiss than the ones he's been giving you. you melt into his lips, completely forgetting about the current scene playing on the tv. when he pulls away, he grabs the remote that sat on the armrest of the couch, turning off the tv. “will you pay attention to me now?” he asks, pouting. you giggle softly at his cuteness. 

“yes jakey, i will pay attention to you.” you say, pulling him down by his shirt to kiss him once more.

sunghoon :  rubbing your waist & the sides of your hips. like the rest of the boys, he loves rubbing your hips and will do this to you at any given moment. though, he mainly does it when you're stressed or overwhelmed to calm your nerves. he’ll walk up to you when he notices your face is buried into your hands, clearly showcasing how anxious you feel over uni. 

“hoon i just don't know what to do-” you cry, your face against his chest as his head was atop yours, whispering “i know” as he runs a hand through your hair gently. his arms encased your body, rubbing a hand against your back to soothe you. 

“you're alright baby, i'm here.” he says, planting a kiss on your head. he looks down at your crying figure, carefully grabbing your chin to tilt your head upwards—forcing you to make eye contact with him. 

his arms run down your short figure, his hands moving to you the sides of your hips, palms rubbing against the bone. “you're fine, my love. you're fine.” he says reassuringly. he watches as you wipe your tears, catching your breath as he continues to rub your sides. “you'll be alright.”

[hs-is-loml]

He's My Favorite. (ln4)

Pairing: Lando Norris x Sainz!Actress!Reader

Summary: fans are speculating who y/n might be dating but it turns out it was in front of their faces the whole time. or y/n and lando are mistakenly considered to only be best friends and people are in for a surprise.

Type: Social Media AU! face claim is Bruna Marquezine!

Warnings: probably a few grammar errors. lots of fluff. drivers standing their ground against neymar jr. because he deserves his own warning. inaccurate timelines but then again this is a fictional smau! UNEDITED

a/n: i'm on a kick rn. nothing can stop me.

all translations come from google! english translations are in parentheses!!

masterlist

twitter

instagram

carlossainz55 just made a post

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 1,560,937 others

carlossainz55 so proud of this one! but papa did say your head is growing too big after you saw yourself on the billboard...and i agree with him. anyways, go support y/n by watching her new movie Blue Beetle now in theaters!

tagged yourusername

view all 117,342 comments

sainzforlife this family is too talented for their own good-

yourusername papa did not say that.

→ carlossainz55 just ask him then @/carlossainzoficial

→ carlossainzoficial mija, es de lo único que has estado hablando desde que lo viste. (daughter, that's all you've been talking about since you saw it.)

→ yourusername papa, that's not very nice. don't try to pretend like i didn't catch you sending the trailer to all your friends last week...

iamrebeccad beautiful girl and amazing movie!

→ yourusername i love you more than my brother.

→ liked by iamrebeccad and 217 others

xolo_mariduena at least you didn't see her crying when she first saw the billboard

→ yourusername XOLO, NO ONE WAS SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT

→ landonorris send the video.

→ yourusername now, look what you've done. all the drivers are going to see me crying now-

→ xolo_mariduena you'll still take me to the next gp right...?

landonorris just to let you guys know she cried after this photo was taken too

→ carlando4life does this mean lando was with the family for the private screening??

→ 4papaya lando is a part of their family so probably😭

instagram

landonorris just made a post

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, mclaren, and 1,860,657 others

landonorris can't believe this girl is going to be blown up on the big screen coming to theaters near you. jokes aside proud of you and everything you do.

tagged yourusername

view all 99,342 comments

thatonebakucorner this post is so sweet!

yourusername thank you, lan🫶🏻

→ carlossainz55 why did you send him a heart?

→ charles_leclerc yeah, what's that about?🤨

→ yourusername carlos, you're just jealous you didn't get a post from lando

georgerussell63 i never get appreciation posts like this

→ landonorris what do you want me to post about your slideshows?

→ alex_albon it's because you're not y/n

welovey/n LOL not the drivers grilling lando about this post

ln4csforever "proud of you and everything you do" LANDO JUST TELL HER YOU LOVE HER ALREADY

→ paddockfashion please- like lando could pull someone like y/n

twitter

instagram

yourusername just made a post

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, neymarjr, and 1,341,972 others

yourusername such a crazy week but glad i got to spend it with some of my favorite people. thank you for all the love and support you guys have given to Blue Beetle!

tagged carlossainz55 and landonorris

view all 117,593 comments

worldchampionsisaid what is neymar doing here?!?

→ neymarandy/n they need to get back together asap!

→ mywifeisy/n yes because that would be such a good idea even though he cheated on his baby mama while she was pregnant??

oscarpiastri lando is asking if you're serious with the guy in the third photo

→ oscarpiastri apparently, i wasn't supposed to ask you on here so now lando is yelling at me.

carmenmmundt proud of you, love! ❤️

→ yourusername love you, carmen! 🤎

ferraricountyourdays the third pic?? Y/N, WHO IS THAT MAN??

→ y/nismilf she needs to hard launch him already!

neymarjr linda como sempre, amor. (beautiful as always, love.)

→ carlossainz55 no, go away.

→ charles_leclerc wrong post, buddy.

→ georgerussell63 abosolutely not-

→ danielricciardo don't forget what happened last time you tried to contact her.

→ maxverstappen1 move along.

→ fifaandf1crossover do you know you have 30 minutes?

→ y/npleasemarryme love that they always protect her!

shesmyfavactress weird she posted picture with her bf along with one of lando and carlos

→ f1girlies maybe because she's an adult and allowed to be friends with her brother's ex teammate?

fernandoalo_oficial i remember when i used to be your favorite driver

→ carlossainzoficial those were the days

→ yourusername you two are still my favorite of all time.

→ carlossainz55 i'm hurt, y/n.

→ landonorris so was your caption meaningless?

→ yourusername i can't win.

whatacrossover oh, lando and y/n are definitely dating.

yourusername just added to their story

shared post by yourusername and landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, carlossainz55, anasainzvdec, and 2,493,968 others

yourusername and landonorris just kidding, he's my favorite.

view all 136,975 comments

carlossainz55 that hand is getting a bit low, don't you think?

→ yourusername get over it. you've had years to get used to this already.

→ inmyf1era YEARS you say?

landonorris i get to be with you every day. what a life.

→ yourusername i love you.

→ oscarpiastri you're ridiculous

→ charles_leclerc mate, look what she has turned you into

→ yourusername charles, i will tell alex about this.

→ charles_leclerc I WAS JUST KIDDING. PLEASE NO

lilymhe was waiting for this hard launch!

→ alex_albon i thought lando was going to spill before they could even do one

carlossainzoficial what can i say i love my son so i approve

→ yourusername could've said that you love and care for your daughter's happiness

sebastianvettel actually, y/n forgot who her real favorite is

→ yourusername love you, seb!

→ landonorris back off, old man.

[lilybug-02]

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝟏𝟎,𝟎𝟎𝟎 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬!!! 🎉 💐

I've been using this blog since I started college, and now, I'm less than 3 weeks from finishing my Environmental Geoscience degree (with a Minor in Soil Science)! ☺︎ I cannot tell y'all how much I've learned these past few years. About myself and about what I want to do in the world. About how much I've grown, not just as an artist, but as a storyteller.

I like to think this is much more than just an art blog, because if you've followed me long enough, you know I love to go on long tangents about the most random things and post about my many other interests. And I love doing it! I love being myself on this blog and I love the freedom of it all.

And the people on Tumblr! Ha. Never did I think I would be online friends or acquaintances with so many talented artists and creatives. I'm not always able to spur the same energy I could in the past, struggling with depression does that and becoming an adult is it's own can of worms, but you guys make me feel like a hundred bucks despite it all. And I cannot thank you enough.

Art has always been a way for me to express myself. Whether i'm feeling like a soggy sad puddle or feeling I'm at the top of the world. And being able to so freely draw whatever I want without judgment is something so very very special. It's a passion that I am very lucky to have kept with me in life. I wouldn't be the same person without it.

To all those who've followed me for the Chara Timeline, my heart goes out to you all in gratefulness. I know having a comic on such a long hiatus may be disappointing, but it's given me so much time to live my life and I appreciate every comment i've ever gotten on it.

And for the crazy amount of people just joining in from my Hollow Knight Comic, GOLLY. There's so many of you!! And all of you are so sweet and supportive too! It's so amazing.

And to those who are just here for my blog and art and silly antics. Thank you. From the bottom of my heart ❤️

[nighttimenothings]

thinking about slow saturdays. edging my girl all day—fleeting looks and lingering touches. in the morning, touching you gently over your panties while we're tangled up in bed, waiting till your hips are rolling and you're whimpering before stopping.

later during lunch, keeping my hand high up on your thigh, thumb stroking slowly, so close, yet nowhere near where you want me to be. you like that, baby?

in the afternoon, we're on the couch, a movie playing on the tv, but neither one of us is really paying attention because i've got two fingers thrusting slowly in your cunt and my other hand pinching and tugging at your nipples. you're soft little moans become more and more desperate as i bring you close to the edge. and right before you're about to come, i stop. that's my girl. just one more. can you hold on for me?

we're cooking dinner together, i'm stealing kisses, hands trailing over your stomach, waist, and hips. you giggle and tell me i'm distracting you, and i laugh because this is nowhere near distracting.

during dinner, i can see you squirm in your chair when i nudge my foot against your leg. i raise a brow and you flush. you're so easy to fluster, sweetheart. i adore how pink your cheeks are and how shy you get.

cleaning up is simple. you wash and i dry, but today i can't help but stop, stepping up close behind you, pressing you against the counter and sneaking a hand down your panties again. your slick has already leaked all over your thighs and my fingers glide frictionlessly.

i'm touching and tasting, licking and leaving kisses all over your neck. you're so pretty, baby. i love seeing you like this. thank you for being so good for me. my hands are everywhere and i can't stop touching. soon enough, you've given up on the dishes and we're now facing each other.

fingers or mouth, baby? you're voice is breathy and high when you tell me you want both. greedy girl. but you've been so good for me, so i'll give you everything—i'll make sure you can't stand by the time i finish with you.

i get on my knees and i pull down your pants, panties coming off too. there's a string of slick that sticks to your panties and i groan at the sight of it. good god, you're dripping and making a mess everywhere. let me clean you up.

you taste so good. you're thrusting and gasping, fingers threaded in my hair. i have my hands wrapped around your thighs, keeping you up as your thighs start to shake and your slickness continues to drip. the sound is obscene, the steady squelch of my tongue in your cunt, my lips sucking your clit.

you beg for my fingers and i oblige, immediately giving you two. you're getting close—i can tell. your breaths come out strangled and your eyes are bleary and unfocused. can you wait, baby? hold on for just a little longer for me? you're so close to crying, i can see the tears clinging to your eyelashes and can hear the way your voice cracks. you tell me you can—that you wanna be good for me.

i add another finger—you whine, high and desperate—and i lick your folds gently. so perfect, so good. that's it. finally, when i know you've reached your limit, i curl my fingers and suck your clit. come for me, baby. you've been so good for me.