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[anmolsmsblog]

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[communicationthroughlyrics]

I Work Too Hard, Can You Fuckin' Pay Me?

Part 1 - Y/N moved to escape some of thier looming troubles from Westview, to the place that their best friend said would make a difference. New job, new digs, will Y/N make a change for the better, or leave another city with thier tail between thier legs?

A/N: Mini Series, I guess. Intersex reader, looking for a new life. Smut, Angst, all the fun things. Enjoy!

Word Count: 4.7K

Come Get Your Fix, Just Whisper It

The sun beat its way through the cracked windshield of the rental truck as you sighed deeply. Your tanned, inked shoulders pushed back against the scratchy fabric of the seat below, the dull crackle of a shitty radio echoing through the cab as the monotonous click of the blinker indicated your intention. The exit sign for 'Foxwood' blurred into view, its faded letters promising escape from the mind-numbing highway.

You hated moving, you really did. But there was something about Foxwood that called to you, something that felt like home, even though you had never set foot in the place before. The GPS instructed you to turn left onto a narrow, paved road, flanked by tall, ancient oaks that stretched out their branches like welcoming arms.

This purchase was made sight unseen, knowing you had to find something quickly before you began your new job. You had done the whole apartment thing and couldn't do it again. So the moment this house popped up for sale, your agent called, and you bought it blindly, knowing you needed it. You had high hopes for the place, something that would hopefully bring a smile to your face, something that could make you feel alive again.

As you followed the winding road, you caught glimpses of quaint, well-kept houses with flowers blooming in their front gardens. The occasional rustle of leaves whispered secrets as you drove deeper into the town. The quiet was eerie but also comforting, like a gentle hush that promised peace and privacy. You knew you weren't far, your friend was up ahead leaning against his car, waiting for your arrival. As you approached the home, you took in your surroundings more carefully. A few neighbors watched as your brakes squealed, signaling that you had come to a stop in the driveway of your new home.

Some children were walking down the street, backpacks in tote, indicating that school had let out a little bit ago. They were laughing and giggling, as they one by one peeled off of thier group and made thier respective way home. The sound of their laughter was like a breath of fresh air, and it made you feel a bit less anxious about the whole situation. The house was a charming two-story Craftsman, painted a soft shade of grey with brown trim. The porch looked welcoming, with a swing that swayed slightly in the breeze. The yard was a little overgrown, but you could see the potential it had to be a lush, green paradise.

As you climbed out of the truck, the heat of the day slapped you in the face like a wet towel. You wiped the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand and walked over to where your friend, Pietro, was standing. He was taller than you remembered, his hair had grown out into a messy mop, and there was a new confidence in his stance. His grin was the same though, wide and welcoming, as he threw his arms around you in a bear hug. "You made it," he exclaimed, slapping you on the back. "Come on, let's get you settled in."

You followed him inside, the coolness of the house a relief after the sweltering heat outside. The interior was surprisingly bright, with sunlight streaming in through the large windows and bouncing off the gleaming hardwood floors. There was a faint scent of lemon in the air, hinting at recent cleaning efforts. Pietro led you to the kitchen, where a woman was unloading a box of dishes and glasses.

"Hope you don't mind, but I asked sis to help," Pietro said as you both walked into the room. She was stunning, with her hair pulled back in a messy bun and a sprinkle of freckles across her nose. She looked up and offered a warm smile that made your heart skip a beat.

"Welcome to Foxwood," she said, extending a hand. "I'm Wanda, your new neighbor and occasional pain in the ass." You took her hand, feeling the electricity between you. Her grip was firm, her eyes a piercing green that seemed to see right through you as they ran up and down your body.

"Thanks," you managed to reply, trying to play it cool despite the sudden surge of butterflies in your stomach. "I'm Y/N. I guess I'll be the new girl in town." You sent her a dashing smile before Pietro interrupted.

"Wands moved before I was able to introduce you two when we were in high school. Too quick to get the fuck out of Westview," he laughed, coming behind his sister and draping an arm around her shoulders. Wanda rolled her eyes playfully and shrugged his arm off.

"I don't blame her," you laugh, catching her glance back over at you. "Westview is a shithole."

Wanda arched an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of her lips. "Tell me something I don't know," she said, her voice light and teasing.

"Well, Wands," Pietro started, a knowing smirk on his face. "This one seemed to run every woman or daughter out of town. She's always been a little bit of a player."

Her eyes narrowed slightly, the playfulness replaced with curiosity. "Is that so?" she said, leaning against the counter. "And what brings you to Foxwood, dare I ask?"

You cleared your throat, trying to find the right words. "A new job," you replied, your voice a bit too high-pitched for your liking. "And a chance to get away from all that drama. Start fresh."

Wanda nodded, studying you with those piercing eyes. "Well, I'm sure you'll fit right in here. Everyone loves a good redemption story," she said, a hint of amusement in her tone. "And if you need anything, I'm just next door. Now, if you don't mind, I need to head home and get ready for dinner with Agatha." she turned, hugging Pietro before throwing the towel on her shoulder into the sink.

Pietro rolled his eyes. "That old hag?" he teased, earning a playful elbow from his sister.

"She's younger than me, Piet. If that is what you think of her, I would hate to know what you think of little old me."

Pietro's cheeks flushed red, but he chuckled it off, slapping his sister on the shoulder. "Wands, you know I didn't mean it like that. I love you, I'm morally obligated to." he laughed, shying away as she punched him in the chest.

"Ass!" she smirked, turning to you. "Y/N, it was a pleasure, albeit a brief one. I'm just next door if you need any help."

Her eyes lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary, leaving you with a strange mix of excitement and nerves. You nodded. "Thanks, Wanda. I'll keep that in mind." You flashed her another smile, moving out of her way so she could walk away from you and Pietro, and you watched as she left.

"No, Y/N. Just...No." Piet's voice cut through the air as you watched her leave. "Don't mess with Wanda," he warned, his eyes serious. "She's had enough bullshit in her life without you bringing your Westview drama here."

You shrugged, trying to play it off. "I'm not planning on messing with anyone, Pete," you said, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. "Just here to work and keep my head down." But as you took a sip, you couldn't help but feel the weight of his words. You had a history, and it wasn't exactly squeaky clean.

The rest of the day was spent unpacking boxes and getting the house in order. The place had good bones, but it was clear that the previous owners hadn't put much effort into the upkeep. There were cobwebs in the corners and a layer of dust that had to be thick enough to write your name in. But every time you looked outside and saw the picturesque street, you felt a flicker of hope that this could be your fresh start. Pietro helped you move everything that was left in the truck inside and took it back for you before he went home for the night.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with a warm orange glow, you finally finished setting up the living room. You flopped onto the couch, letting out a sigh of relief that was quickly interrupted by the sound of a knock on the door. It was Wanda, dressed in a simple sundress that made her look like she'd just stepped out of a magazine. Her eyes ran up and down your exhausted, sweaty frame, you were in just a pair of sweatpants and a tank top. Once she made eye contact with you again, she smiled. "Hey, I hope I'm not interrupting," she said, holding up a tray of food. "I figured you'd be too tired to cook."

Her smile was infectious, and before you knew it, you were inviting her inside. The tray was filled with a mouthwatering assortment of dishes that smelled heavenly—roast chicken, garlic mashed potatoes, and steamed vegetables. "Wow, this is amazing," you said, your stomach rumbling. "Thank you so much."

Wanda waved off your gratitude with a casual flick of her wrist. "It's the least I could do," she said, setting the tray down on the kitchen counter. "I know moving can be a real bitch."

You couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious in her presence. She had an air of confidence that you hadn't seen in a long time, something you had lost amidst the parties and one-night stands back in Westview. You tried to ignore the way your heart fluttered every time she was near, telling yourself that this was just friendship, and Pietro's older sister- nothing more. But as you watched her unpack the Tupperware containers, her slender fingers moving with purpose, you found it harder and harder to keep that thought in your head.

"Here you go," she set everything out, all you had to do was serve yourself. "You can bring me the containers whenever," she said, before heading back to the door. "Have a good night." she winked before turning to walk out the door.

"Thank you," you called after her, watching as she stepped back into the warm embrace of the evening. The door clicked shut, leaving you with the tantalizing smell of the food and a sudden feeling of loneliness.

You filled a plate, the aroma making your mouth water as you took a bite of the chicken. It was tender and perfectly seasoned, the taste exploding on your tongue. You had to admit, that Wanda had skills in the kitchen. You took your dinner to the porch, the swing groaning under your weight as you sat down. The evening air was cooler now, and the street was silent except for the occasional distant laughter of children playing in the twilight. With the slight breeze that was cooling everything off, you decided to open some windows, and allow the house to air out some.

As you sat there, you couldn't shake the feeling that Wanda had left you with. You had never felt so...seen by someone before. It was as if she knew all your secrets just by looking at you. But you weren't about to let that ruin your first night in your new home. You had a job to start in the morning, and you needed to be well-rested. So, you finished your meal and decided to rest, getting yourself ready for bed.

The night passed quickly, and before you knew it, the sun was peeking through the windows, signaling the start of a new day. You dragged yourself out of bed and into the shower, the hot water doing little to wash away the last of your weariness. As you toweled off, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. The person staring back at you looked like a stranger—tired eyes and a rumpled expression that told a story of a life lived hard and fast. You vowed to change that, starting now.

You threw on some clean clothes and headed downstairs, the aroma of fresh coffee wafting from the kitchen. The house was eerily quiet without the clamor of boxes and the banter with Pietro. Thankful that you remembered to set the timer to the coffee pot, you opened the cabinets until you found the one that your coffee mugs had been put into. You poured a glass of the liquid, putting just a hint of sugar in it and taking a swig.

As you sipped, you glanced out the kitchen window to see Wanda's car parked in her driveway. A part of you was relieved she was home; the thought of seeing her again made your heart race. Another part was nervous. You didn't want to give her any reason to think that you were the same old you. You were here for a new start, after all. You stacked up the now clean containers that she had brought you dinner in and neatly put them in a bag before getting yourself ready for work.

You stepped out of the house, the cool morning air kissing your cheeks and making you feel alive. You walked over to Wanda's house, the bag of containers swinging at your side. As you approached the door, you took a deep breath, trying to calm the nerves that had suddenly taken over your body. You knocked, the sound echoing through the quiet street.

The door swung open, and there she was, dressed in a pair of jeans and a loose-fitting shirt that still managed to hug her curves in all the right places. Her hair was down today, cascading over her shoulders in gentle waves. She looked surprised to see you but quickly composed herself. "Morning," she said, her voice a little raspy from sleep.

"Sorry, I know it's early. I wanted to give these back before I forgot." You handed her the bag of containers, trying not to stare at the way the morning light kissed her skin.

Wanda took the bag, a small smile playing on her lips. "No worries, I'm usually up early. I appreciate it." She stepped aside, gesturing for you to come in. "Would you like some coffee?"

You shook your head, gesturing to the cup sitting on top of your car. "No, thank you though, and dinner was delicious."

Wanda nodded, her eyes lingering on you for a moment too long before she turned away to set the bag by what you assumed was the entrance to her kitchen. "You're more than welcome, Y/N. Pietro said you're starting work today?"

"Yeah, I am," you replied, your eyes following her as she walked inside and then came back to the door.

"I guess I should have guessed," she insinuated, motioning to the suit you were now wearing. "What do you do, again?"

You took a deep breath, your nerves starting to rise in front of this ethereal woman. "I'm an architect," you said proudly. "Starting at the new firm downtown."

Wanda's eyes lit up with interest. "Oh, really?" she leaned against the doorframe. "That's cool."

"Thanks," you said, feeling a bit more at ease. "I'm hoping to make a name for myself here, maybe even start my own firm one day."

Wanda nodded, her eyes thoughtful. "Well, Foxwood's definitely growing. Could use some fresh designs to spruce the place up," she said with a smile.

You nod, looking down at your watch, realizing you were really cutting it close. "I should get going, I don't want to be late on my first day," you said, taking a step back. "Thank you, Wanda." you smile, stepping backward as you walk toward your car.

"Good luck," she called after you, her voice soothing and genuine. You smiled, before turning around to walk the rest of the way to your waiting Audi. You grabbed the coffee off the roof, settling yourself inside. As you drove off to work, you couldn't help but think back to your brief interactions with Wanda. You had only seen her in pictures, and she certainly grew into her looks.

The office was bustling when you arrived, and the air was thick with the scent of ambition and freshly brewed coffee. You were greeted by your new boss, Mr. Castillo, a man with a firm handshake and a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. He walked you around, introducing you to the team. Each person you met offered a polite nod and a murmur of welcome, but you could feel the underlying curiosity—who was this new face that had strutted into their well-established dynamic?

The first few days were a blur of paperwork, meetings, and getting acquainted with the projects you'd be working on. You threw yourself into your work, eager to prove that you weren't just a pretty face from Westview. You had skills, and you were here to use them. You found yourself working late, working out, eating small meals, and sleeping. It was this same schedule, on repeat. Before you knew it, Friday was upon you, and Pietro was calling.

"Come out with me tonight," he begged. "You've been holed up in that house and that office all week. You need to live a little. Explore."

"Hello to you too, Piet." You chuckled into the phone, leaning back in your chair at the office. The clock on the wall ticked away the final moments of the workday. "But I'm pretty beat. I don't know if I'm up for a night out."

"Come on, it'll be fun," he said, his voice full of excitement. "I've got a surprise for you."

You hesitated, the thought of a surprise from Pietro sending a shiver down your spine. His ideas of fun tended to land you in trouble. "What's the surprise?"

"That defeats the whole point, Y/N. It wouldn't be a surprise if you knew what it was." His laugh was contagious, and despite your exhaustion, you found yourself smiling. "But I promise, it's nothing crazy."

You sighed, knowing that 'not crazy' for Pietro was still a relative term. But his enthusiasm was infectious, and the thought of letting loose after a week of intense focus was tempting. "Alright, fine," you conceded. "Where and when?"

The whoop of excitement on the other end of the line had you shaking your head. "I'll text you the details!" he yelled before hanging up, knowing you would change your mind if given the chance.

The day dragged on, but the anticipation of the night ahead kept you going. When you finally clocked out, you drove home with a mix of excitement and dread. You knew that going out with Pietro meant you would be meeting new people, and while you weren't necessarily a hermit, you were trying to turn a new page. You threw your coat onto the bench by the door, before stalking upstairs to your room. You sat down on the edge of your bed, peeling your dress shoes off your feet before undoing your tie. As you began to undress, you caught a glimpse of the woman next door. The elder Maximoff, lounged by the pool in her backyard, reading a book in a bikini.

The sight made your thoughts run wild, and your mouth went dry. You tried to shake it off, but the image of Wanda in that bikini was burned into your mind. You decided you needed to hop in the shower, so you quickly turned to get undressed and threw your work shirts into the laundry bin that would soon go to the dry cleaners.

As the hot water cascaded down your body, you couldn't help but replay the moments you had already with Wanda. You felt a stirring in your chest that was unfamiliar, a mix of attraction and something deeper. But you pushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand. You had a night out to get ready for, and you needed to be on your best behavior. You couldn't have any distractions, especially not from your best friend's sister.

After a quick shower and a change into a black deep-cut tee, black jeans, and a leather jacket, you checked your phone to find the details of the night's plans. "Meet me at The Den at 8," the text from Pietro read. You had just enough time to grab a bite to eat and mentally prepare yourself. You grabbed a granola bar from your snack cabinet and chugged a bottle of water, looking out the back window as you ate the aforementioned snack.

Deciding you would take the bike out instead, you put your helmet on before starting your blacked-out Harley. You smiled at the feel of the familiar rumble between your legs, and made your way out of the garage, propping it up on the kickstand before walking back to shut the garage door.

"Be careful, Y/N," Wanda called out from her porch as you climbed onto your bike. She had changed into a short, floral dress that highlighted her toned legs and a pair of sandals that made you wonder if she had ever worn shoes that weren't designer. You nodded, giving her a subtle salute as you accelerated down the street past her house.

The sun had already set by the time you pulled into the crowded parking lot of 'The Den', a popular local hangout spot. The music thumped in the distance, a bass that you could feel in your chest. The anticipation grew as you stepped off of the bike, straightening your jacket and running a hand through your hair. It had been a while since you'd been out, and the idea of a night free from the constraints of your new life was exhilarating.

Inside, the air was thick with the scent of spilled drinks and cheap perfume. The lights were dim, and the dance floor was packed with bodies moving in sync with the rhythm of the music. You spotted Pietro at the bar, his tall frame making him easy to find in the sea of people. He waved you over, a wide grin on his face. "You made it!" he shouted over the noise.

"Barely," you said, sliding onto the barstool next to him. He passed you a beer, already cold and sweating. "What's the plan?"

Pietro leaned in, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "First, we grab a drink or two. Then, I introduce you to the Foxwood nightlife."

You took a swig of the beer, the cold liquid sliding down your throat, a mix of excitement and nerves bubbling in your stomach. The last thing you wanted was to go back to your old ways, so this night was going to be a challenge. But as you scanned the room, you reminded yourself that you had changed. You weren't that person anymore. You were here to build a future, not rehash the past.

The first few hours were surprisingly tame. You talked with some of the locals, who were surprisingly welcoming despite your outsider status. They asked about your job and your life back in Westview, and you kept your answers vague, not wanting to dredge up any drama. You danced a bit, but it was more about the music than the flirtation. And every time you felt a pair of eyes on you, you couldn't help but look over at the door, expecting to see Wanda walk in.

"Okay, Maximoff. Out with it. What is this "surprise" you drug me out of my cozy night for?" you shouted over the music, now feeling the effects of your beverage choices cloud your brain.

Pietro leaned in, his smile growing wider. "I thought you'd never ask," he said, his voice barely audible over the thumping bass. He looped his arm around your neck, dragging you out of the bar you were at, and walking you down the street to another. "Welcome to heaven, Y/N." he motioned as you walked up to a padded door, the door swinging open as a bouncer checked your ID. The overwhelming scent of booze and perfume struck you, a remixed version of Deftones pumping through the speakers.

You walked in, Pietro high-fiving some people he clearly knew. "Welcome to Velvet, Y/N." Piet gestured around, the purple and red neon casting a dull shadow among all the dancers on thier platforms, and all in various states of undress. You felt like this could be trouble, but you had agreed to this night out, so you followed him through the sea of bodies to the VIP section. There was a table with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses already waiting. "You know how to pick your spots, Piet," you said, taking a seat.

"Isn't it great?" he smiled, his eyes dancing back and forth from one dancer to another.

You nodded, trying to keep your focus on the conversation and not on the... distractions around you. "It's... different from what I expected," you shouted back. His eyebrow shot up, a look of doubt on his face.

"Don't tell me you've gone completely soft on me, Y/N. You would have been all over a metal strip club like this a few years ago." He said, pouring you a glass of whiskey.

You took the glass with a nod, trying to keep your cool as you surveyed the scene around you. The music was loud, the lights were strobing, and the dancers were... mesmerizing. "I'm trying to not be the playboy me anymore, Piet."

He laughed, leaning over to you. "Just because you don't wanna be a fuckboy anymore, doesn't mean you need to be boring." He nudged you, his eyes still on the dancers. "Besides, I own this place," he stated, in the most nonchalant way possible.

"Excuse me?" You turned to him, questioning if you heard him correctly.

"Yeah, you heard me. I own this." he winked as one of the dancers pulled him into the back.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of annoyance. This wasn't what you had in mind when you agreed to go out. But before you could do anything, a figure caught your eye. Wanda. Dressed in a tight black dress that hugged her curves like a second skin, her hair cascading down in long, auburn waves, she looked like she didn't belong in this place. You felt your heart drop as she moved through the crowd, her eyes searching for something—or someone. She finally came up to someone, another woman, sitting with her at the table.

"Pietro, seriously?" you muttered under your breath, watching as he took the stage with one of the dancers, throwing money around like it was confetti. You watched as he threw himself at one of the dancers, Wanda laughing and shaking her head at his antics before he was pulled off the stage by another dancer.

"Don't worry, he does this every time he brings someone new to Velvet." A waitress dressed in a skimpy dress said as she came to grab your empty glasses. She had a pixie cut, green eyes, and a piercing smile. "I'm Natasha, by the way," she offered a hand.

"Y/N." you smiled, shaking hers in response.

"How do you know Pietro?" she asked, sitting down across from you.

"High school friends," you replied, watching as Wanda rolled her eyes at her brother's showmanship. She nodded, her gaze following yours. "He said he had a surprise for me tonight. I guess telling me he owned a strip club was the surprise." you laugh, shaking your head as you take another sip of your beer.

"Well, he does love to make an entrance," Natasha chuckled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "But he's a good guy, really. Really good boss. One of the best I've had."

You nodded, trying to keep your eyes from wandering back to Wanda. "Yeah, he's... something else," you said, your voice trailing off as you watched her. Natasha followed your gaze and smirked. "So, you're here to see the show, huh?"

"More like I'm here to keep an eye on him," you admitted, feeling a blush creep up your neck. "And maybe unwind a bit."

Natasha leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Well, if you're looking to unwind, I can give you the VIP tour.”

You sat, thinking as the woman stood before you. "Sure. Why the fuck not?" You smiled, deciding that Piet was right. You really needed to let loose. 

[seat-safety-switch]

One of the things that nobody tells you about automotive repair is how much of the job involves cleaning. Brake cleaning. Contact cleaning. Interior cleaning. Wiping off pounds of mud so you can even see. Some fixes, you spend more time cleaning off the area than you do actually doing the work.

There are two schools of thought on this issue. Not everyone believes what I do, which is that clean cars run better than dirty cars. Some part of the immortal machine spirit smiles upon you for having treated it well. I will swear as I am being lowered into the ground that a car wash picks up, like, a quarter of a horsepower.

A couple years ago, I went out mudding in my buddy's Isuzu Impulse which had been inexplicably converted to a dune buggy. He tells me that some kind of entity came to him in the woods and told him to do it, but I'm pretty sure it must have been some stoned kids on spring break. Either way, it's very satisfying to pop the pressure washer and hose off five pounds of mud from each of the seats after we're done playing. It's by far my favourite kind of maintenance: done from afar, indiscriminately, with power tools.

Of course, there are limits to my love of the clean. For instance, my old Impala has a hole in the floor big enough to catch a mid-sized dog inside. Road salt and the oil leaking out of the engine make a huge mess in the interior. Cleaning it is futile until I've fixed the hole, and I can't fix the hole until I've cleaned it well enough to get a weld down on what's left of the metal. So instead, it's got some stolen hotel towels duct-taped over the hole. When one becomes too rancid, I put it in my neighbour's trash, and wear my hotel-maid outfit to go get a new one.

Don't worry; I do a little bit of tidying-up while I'm in there. Otherwise that towel cupboard would be so cluttered. How could anyone see what they're doing in there? Super dangerous to the workers, they should be paying me.

[feederheart]

I had caught her.

This was the third time she had shown up this month and this time, I didn’t have to wait for nearly an hour after I had closed up shop for her to finally show up. This time she appeared as if she were ready for a date. She adorned a nice dress that showed off all of her curves (especially her gargantuan belly that hung below her hips), she wore makeup for the first time, and her hair shined like a new car outside of its usual hastily-tied bun. Usually, I took the extra time to get cleaned up and change out of my chef’s uniform; I was covered in fruit preserves and my arms felt a little sticky. This time, however, I didn’t want to take my eyes off the beautiful enchantress before me. It was as if her planetary body came with a gravitational pull that had trapped my gaze.

“You got the goods?” she asked with more assertiveness than usual.

Her beautiful, dark eyes looked at me with intense hunger; it was equal parts arousing and terrifying.

“You’re making this sound like a drug deal,” I chuckled.

“C’mon, I’m hungry,”  she pleaded, my joke falling flat on its face.

“Alright, relax, I’ve still got you,” I said.

I already had exactly what she wanted; I had stashed all of the leftover pies by the rear door in anticipation of her arrival. I reached for the brown bags each containing four whole unsold pies and handed them to her.

“Got any more?” she asked.

“Really?” I asked, amazed by her gluttony; eight pies is a lot. “You want more?”

“They’re good!” she replied, blushing ever so slightly. “I mean- really good. You knocked these out of the park!”

Then it was my turn to blush; compliments for my cooking or baking are my heart’s kryptonite.

“Thank you,” I replied. “But I’m not sure if you can carry any more without dropping or crushing one.”

“How about I just ate one?” she suggested. “Before you threw the rest away.”

“Right here?” I asked, turning around and scanning the interior of the restaurant. “I don’t know, The Boss is strict about giving away food and I don’t want you on the security camera.”

I then pointed to the camera right above the back doorway.

“We’re lucky this one doesn’t work right or else I wouldn’t be able to sneak anything to you.”

“Th-that's okay, I’ll sit right here,” she replied matter-of-factly as she waddled a few steps forward and plopped her huge, round ass onto the floorboards of the rear porch. The wood creaked loudly and her fat spread out across the surface like thick pancake batter poured on the griddle. She then reached into one of the bags and grabbed a blueberry pie sitting on top of the surface along with a plastic fork.

I stared at her, unable to take my eyes off of her quivering rolls that jiggled as she rocked back and forth trying to get comfortable on the hardwood surface. As she finally stopped and her fat jiggled and quivered for a few more seconds, she turned her head and looked up at me.

“What?” she said as if taking a fork and eating an entire pie was a completely normal thing to do. “I’m hungry, I’ve barely eaten anything today. I’ve had, like, a half-pounder at Fudruckers and some Chipotle today but that was it.”

“Oh nothing, there’s no problem,” I said nonchalantly. “Lemme finish cleaning before I get the rest and lock up shop.”

I turned around and finished cleaning the kitchen for the day, I snuck a few glances at the beautiful woman happily gorging away at the pie I made like a greedy pig, shoving massive forkfuls of fatty, sugary, blueberry goodness into her mouth, her arms quivering with each forkful. I could just barely hear her humming happily as she ate over the sounds of the sink and clanking pans. As I wiped down the sink, I could see her throw the now-empty pie container aside and get started on a new pie, this time a special cognac and peach pie I won a baking competition with. As she got her fill, I could see her adjusting her dress as her belly swelled with the delicious dessert. She rubbed her corpulent tummy and let out a small burp as she put away the now-half-eaten peach pie and tossed it next to the blueberry pie dish.

I fought to hide my arousal as I grabbed two more pies and handed them to her.

“Thank you- urg,” she groaned as she rose to her feet slowly, weighed down by what must have been a quarter-ton of fat plus one and a half pies. “Oh that was so good, holy shit, these are really the best pies ever.”

“Thank you,” I replied, feeling a rush of giddy warmth flow through me. “You know, I may be a baker but I’m a damn good chef too. How does dinner at my place tomorrow night sound?”

“Yeah that sounds amazing,” she replied rushedly as if her gargantuan stomach made that decision for her before she could think about it.

“Excellent, I’ll see you tomorrow,” I replied happily.

She grabbed the pie-filled bags and waddled back to her car, her belly looking the roundest I had ever seen her. She stopped once and set down a bag to adjust her dress one more time as it rode up her fat-laden thighs before picking it back up, waddling to her car, struggling to fit her gut behind the wheel, and driving away.

I took a deep breath, knowing that I had won. I had caught her like the whale she was.

[ns-imagines]

What they drive

141 Guys x domestic/everyday life

SFW | Word Count: 1.4k | Headcannons

**Long post with lots of pictures!

A/N: I dunno much about cars but I always wonder what the boys would be driving. See what they’re picking me up in for date night… this is just for fun and highlights the modern life they have outside of missions. Also the gif of Soap falling on the car took me out lmao. Not requested. -Kiv

John Price

A man who takes pride in his vehicles. He has two Chevy trucks. A nice truck for everyday use and a project truck. The perfect person to talk to if you are thinking of purchasing a car or truck. Price has got the “dealership scam” game down. You'll be leaving the lot with a good deal.

The project car being a 1985 Chevy C10. Price is always going on about how “this is every man's dream car to work on”. He says it everytime he opens the garage. Without fail! It's got a classic blue color with a few rust spots but, nothing a good layer of paint can't fix. Its the 90s car from the movies. Nothing else to say about it!

Ahh the project car. Price works on it when he can. Set up a lawn chair, get a glass of lemonade, and just watch that man work. Sometimes hell even explain to you what he’s doing. That is if you can even pay attention. There’s something so attractive about a man talking about what he’s passionate about all sweaty with a nice pump. HEY, wipe that drool off your face.

Price’s personal truck is nice. It gets him from point A to B. Everything on it is stock. He’ll always tell you hes gonna sell it once his project car has been fixed. But there’s still quite a lot to do on the project car. Its a 2012 Chevy Silverado in cherry black with a covered bed. Good on gas and can pull a trailer or boat! He doesn’t invest money in it for other than maintenance costs.

It smells specifically like “Lakeside Morning” from Bath and Body works car scents. The packaging is what got him. It was honestly super cute when he read the package out loud. “Smells like: Cool, Sweet, Fresh, and alone time on the dock” followed by a shrug and him throwing it into his cart. Does he even fish?

Oh, whenever he turns a corner in the Silverado theres a thud coming from the bed. Its a cooler that has been there FOREVER. He swears he’s going to take it out. Price brought it when 141 met for a cook out and some beers a few months ago.

-

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Don’t ask about the APR please. Kyle is going to use this bad girl till it breaks. Its his dream car. Price took him away from base to get a better rate for it! Its fast its speedy its a 2015 Ford Shelby GT350. Oh yeah racing stripes and all. He got it wrapped in a matte ocean blue. Im talking leather seats, tinted windows, and custom wheel.

Kyle loves this car and will always offer to pick you up. Ur always going to be passenger princess. Kyle always drives up reallll slow, rev the engine a little, and rolls down the window to smile big at you. He gets the door for you when you are both approaching the car. Don’t test him. He will literally sprint to get the door for you. An actual cutiepie

Hes so damn cute when it comes to long drives. Hand on your thigh and singing to the music together. Expect spontaneous trips!! He doesn’t even know where you guys are headed today.

Loves to speed up when there no cars in front of him. That feeling of the car pushing into you the sear is his favorite. Kyle is definitely the type to lightly bang on the steering wheel and go “Wooooooo” when returning to the normal speed limit. Hehe. Hope it didn’t freak you out too much. You will without a doubt get a few reassuring thigh squeezes.

Classic Black Ice scent. Cant go wrong with it! Its his car’s signature sent if you ask him. Kyle keeps his car clean. Theres a few half empty water bottles in the back but never straight up trash. He makes sure to buy the premium wipes for the interior. Like I said that car is his baby. Ugh did i mention the sound system?! Its absolutely amazing. You can feel the bass in your bones. Literally sounds like you’re in an air pod pro.

-

John “Soap” Mactavish

His car is the hangout car. Like if were going out with boys were taking Soaps car. He drives a pearl colored 2020 Honda Accord. He ordered the under the seat lights and everything. Its actually a vibe in there. The music changes the lights or he has an app on his phone to change the color. Another amazing sound system tbh.

Similar to Gaz the glovebox in the car is yours. He even puts stuff in there for you as a surprise :,). Sweet baby Johnny. Like one time you got in the car like usual and opened the glovebox to grab chapstick or some perfume/cologne and sitting on the car instruction manual was a bag/box of ur favorite snack. When you looked back over, Johnny was looking back at you with a big derpy smile.

Since his car is the hangout car it can get messy pretty easily. He has to do “trash runs” to empty the random things people leave in his car. Dont get it wrong, It isnt nasty with random food left behind!! Soap has tried those like little trash cans on Amazon but they always end up lost under the back seats.

Johnny always goes with New Car Smell. He doesn’t have a specific brand he likes he just gets whatever’s at the gas station at the time. He also has the bad habit of never locking his car. Soap swears he always forgets to but you think its just a habit at this point.

CEO of spontaneous trips. You would never believe how much camping stuff his car can hold. Soap will give him car encouraging words as it struggles to go up the hills to the hike or camping site. He always keeps an emergency box under the passenger seat. Its shaped like tackle box. It has a first aid kit, some portable batteries with chargers, flares, and an emergency flash light. Last time you both went camping he was so excited to show you the random hatchet he bought. He keeps it in the trunk for no reason. I mean, he cant have it in the barracks so you suppose it makes sense.

-

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Simon currently owns two bikes. Hes in the process of selling his old one. Which is a chameleon purple painted 2006 Suzuki GSXR600 with 750 cc. It gave him a good year and half off rides. He took care of it and rode it to its top speeds. It has a scuff on the side from when he tried to do a wheelie but, he was going to slow and had to jump off before it fell to its side. Your heart sunk when it happened. Ghost was super embarrassed because he thought he had it down. He’ll never tell you though.

After a long deployment where he was getting quite a big of hazard pay (extra pay when you’re in a dangerous location) he saved it all up. As soon as he got back he bought a black 2021 Honda Rebel 1100 DCT. This bike is fast but it’s more for cursing. Trust that he’ll ride it to its max speed at least once for the adrenaline rush.

Bought you a matching jacket. He wont say anything about it being matching but you noticed almost after putting it on. Best part about riding is when you get to wrap your arms around his waist. Simon always makes sure to take it slow especially if you get nervous on bikes. Don’t even try to do your hair. He wont move the bike unless you have the right gear on. Ghost doesn’t wanna lose you from an accident.

You are probably wondering what he does when it rains… or maybe you already knew he chooses to ride anyway. I promise though that after a ride in the rain he will slightly complain about how wet the road was. It makes you worry because so much could happen with one slip. Simon will always reassure you that he’s an experienced rider. If you pick him up in your car he won’t be upset. Definitely wont say no to a free and dry ride!

[inf3ct3dd]

003. LOVING IS EASY

warnings: none! :)

authors note: and so it begins 🤭

previous chapter. next chapter. masterlist.

BUZZ. BUZZ. BUZZ.

you rub your eyes with the back of your hand, begrudgingly sitting up from your bed. you shut off your alarm, and you see a notification pop up on your screen.

you grin at your phone, opening the message to reply.

your heart suddenly stops for a second when you see her reply. ‘my girl’? you didn’t expect her to keep up the charade when it was just you two. she’s just committed to the bit, right?

right?

you look up at yourself in the mirror, and you want to wipe the smile off your face.

snap out of it baker. fake girlfriend. fake. shes just being convincing, right?

you take a deep breath and start getting ready, trying to distract yourself.

you move a lot faster than usual, suddenly gaining a passion for academics. you rush kitty from outside her door, impatiently leaning on the frame.

“since when do you want to go to school?” kitty slightly yells from her vanity. she grabs her things, opening the door to reveal an unusually happy you.

you look down at the helmet in her hands, and snatch it from her.

“hey! you almost ran a girl over yesterday, i do not trust you enough to leave lucy.”

you roll your eyes at her, holding the helmet out of her reach as she tries to grab it from you.

“you named the helmet?”

“she’s very important to me.”

she finally stops trying, and stares at you with a pout and furrowed brows.

“you don’t need her, im not driving today.”

“is dad driving us?” she questions, before you throw the helmet back into her room and start walking towards the staircase.

“nope.” you answer, practically sprinting downstairs.

“well who is?” she asks, quickly approaching behind you.

“a friend.”

you both hug your dad goodbye, and quickly grab your lunch from the fridge.

“last time you said ‘a friend’ was driving us, mina almost killed us.” kitty retorts as you walk to the door.

you and your best friend have a LOT in common!!!

“its not mina.” you reply simply.

you open your door to a white jeep in the driveway, abby sitting in the drivers seat, tapping the steering wheel.

kitties eyes widen, yours do too, before she looked back at you.

“oh?” she mumbles.

“you wanna stand here all day?” you say, a smug grin on your face. kitty shakes her head no and starts walking over to the car, and abby notices the two of you and unlocks the door, smiling at you before swinging the passenger side open for you.

how chivalrous :)

“morning abs!” you said, a chipper tone in your voice.

“morning r.” she replies, turning to face you.

you hear the slam of the back door, and kitty shuffles into the car.

you look around the interior, nose filled with the scent of a pine air freshener hanging on the rear view mirror and- a hint of lavender? all you knew was that it smelled good. clean. and the scent matched the rest of the car, which looked almost brand new.

“hi kitty.” abby says, turning around.

kitty gives abby a once over before saying hi back, a slightly questioning look on her face.

“since when are you friends with r?” kitty asks, eyebrows furrowed.

abby lets out a small chuckle before replying.

“a few weeks. why?”

“no reason… just haven’t heard much about you.”

abby turns back around, facing you.

“wowwww, am i not worth talking about?” abby questions, putting a dramatic hand on her chest.

“yup. im just ashamed, you’re so awful.” you tease, grinning at her.

you both giggle, staring back at each other.

“i knew there was something gay going on here.” kitty states accusingly , staring at the two of you with a quirked eyebrow.

you and abby burst into laughter, kitty following quickly after.

“wow kitty, you should be a detective.” abby says sarcastically.

yeah, she can specialize in fraud.

“so you guys are like, dating?” kitty asks.

“yeah, we’re ‘like’ dating.” abby answers. it practically rolls off her tounge, like a reflex.

she’s a good actor.

kitty hums in approval , leaning back into her seat.

your eyes unintentionally move to abbys hand, and you see her grab a drink from the drink-holder-thingy.

“here, got you something.” abby turns around , handing kitty the drink and a straw.

kitty’s eyes light up, smiling as she accepts the drink.

“holy shit, thank you!” she beams, taking a sip.

“don’t mention it. trying to make a good first impression.” abby grins at her before turning back around.

“well, im definitely impressed.”

and i am too.

abby lets out a small chuckle, reaching for your drink and handing it to you.

a venti?? damn!

you thank her, a wide smile on your face as you take a sip.

“like i said, anything for my girl.”

hearing her say it out loud makes it ten times worse. ‘it’ being the sudden rush of nervousness and the annoying churn in your stomach. and with how close she was, you swore she could hear your heart pounding in your chest.

fake girlfriend. fake.

you smile at her, not being able to form a response, and she starts driving.

you never realized how happy that grimacing stare on ellies face made you.

the curse of ellie being in almost all of your classes quickly turned into a blessing when you realized abby was there too.

well, a blessing for you.

ellie kept her eyes glued to you all day, same way she did yesterday, but this time something was clouding her view. abby.

every time she looked over at you, there she was.

passing notes to each other, laughing at each others jokes, giving each other random glances during class, ellies grip on her pencil seemed to get tighter and tighter by the second.

so much so that she broke the tip multiple times from pressing too hard. and every time she got up to sharpen it, she got an even more up close view of why it broke in the first place.

and at one point, she almost threw the fucking sharpener.

“uhm miss, i didn’t get a passage.” you chimed from your desk, holding your hand in the air.

“hey, we can sha-“

“i dont have any other copies, just share with abby.” ellie was cut off by ms. scotti, ruining her poor attempts at trying to be near you.

you looked behind you and your eyes immediately met abbys, smiling back at you. you moved your chair from your single desk to abbys, taking a pen with you. you hadn’t realized how close the two of you were until you sat down , feeling her leg against yours.

real smooth.

abby handed you the paper and you decided to take turns reading it, and you chose to go first. you started reading the paragraph out loud, and you couldn’t help but feel abbys eyes settle on you. specifically, on a place that seemed all-too-close to your lips. you tried to shrug it off, finishing the paragraph with a few mess-ups.

calm down.

instead of abby continuing, she reached her hand towards your face.

“huh?“

in one swift motion, abby runs her thumb against the area right under your bottom lip, wiping off some lipgloss that got on your face.

you felt your face heat up at the sudden contact, and you prayed abby couldn’t feel it.

“you had a little somethin’ there.” she explains, smiling at you and wiping her thumb on her cargos.

lunch was….a lot more fun than yesterday!!!

trading your depressing, lonely, wet courtyard bench for some time with your fake-girlfriend was…much needed.

you walked with abby out of your last class before lunch, stepping shoulder-to-shoulder down the hallway till you reached the cafeteria. when you finally reached the two big green doors, you heard the sea of people inside. you reached for the door, only to be beat by abby, reaching over you to push it open.

“ladies first.” she jokes, holding the door open for you.

you giggle at her, turning around as she walked up to you and let the door come to a close.

you were used to being invisible. well, thats a bit dramatic, you were used to being ‘less known’.

you were only really known for being ‘ellies girlfriend’ not having any crazy identifying factors. you mostly kept to yourself, and mina, of course.

but now, people were looking at you, talking about you.

“who is that?”

“isn’t that ellies girlfriend?”

“since when do they know each other?”

you brushed off the sudden feeling of attention, focusing back on the blonde next to you.

“is she new or something?”

okay, ouch.

you however, couldn’t brush off the feeling of abbys hand slipping into your back pocket, thumb hanging out of it. her warm hand was legit on your asscheek, moving slightly as the two of you walked.

you did this to yourself. why did i put this in the contract ???

you tried to ignore the sudden rise in your body temperature, and you tried your best to not melt right there.

be casual. be cool. its just….part of the plan.

and, without warning, you feel abby stop in her tracks, and use your back pocket to spin you, making you face her. you slightly gasped, resting your hands on your chest to steady yourself.

“abby, what are you doing?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper. she could definitely hear you though, considering how close the two of you were.

“this-“ abby reached into her back pocket, pulling something out. “is for you.”

you look down at her hand, holding a folded up note with your name and a heart on the front.

you grab it from her, grinning up at her.

“you remembered.”

“i remembered.” abby chimes back, smiling down at you.

you open the note, revealing abbys handwriting in pink pen.

“can’t keep my eyes off of you.”

your lips curl into a toothy smile, looking up at abby again.

“you’re so sweet.” you chime, smiling at her.

she smiles back at you, moving a stray curl behind your ear.

and within a millisecond, you feel abby lean in towards it.

“good job.” she whispers hand now resting on your shoulder.

your breath hitches in your chest, feeling her breath against your neck. she moves away and starts walking again, so casually, like shes done that a million times before.

its weird, and somewhat off-putting to be congratulated on doing nothing more than accepting a note, and having an ass pocket for someone to stick their hand into.

but, i guess thats where my life has taken me.

you slightly look around the cafeteria, ignoring the lingering eyes on you, and looking back at the table you two had stopped in front of.

and low and behold, there was nora. her eyes were searing, laced with obvious annoyance. her mouth was slightly open, and her brows were tightly knit together. her friends were looking at you too, but they looked significantly less pissed-off than nora.

to be fair, the two of you put on quite the show.

“r?”

abbys voice snaps you back into reality, staring down at you with a confused look.

“hm?” you hummed, looking up at her.

abbys lunch table was…surprisingly fun!

given the fact she’s rather well known, her table was much bigger than yours.

you saw a few familiar faces. some people from the lacrosse teams, a few people you had classes with, and a girl you went to elementary school with.

abby said her hello’s to the people at the round table, dapping-up a few people and simply saying hi to others.

“so, you’re not gonna introduce us?” a man abby greeted as ‘manny’ questioned, looking at you.

you quickly chimed in and introduced yourself, smiling and waving at the people sitting down.

“you know, you could’ve asked her yourself.” abby states, playfully rolling her eyes at him.

“my bad.” manny responds, arms up in defense.

“you guys just gonna stand up all lunch?” he questions.

you move to sit down, but quickly see theres only one seat left.

shit.

abby notices quickly after, and turns back to you.

“just sit, i can stand.” she offers, motioning towards the seat.

“are you sure?”

“positive.” she affirms.

you sit down on the seat, having to step up onto it when you realize it’s slightly raised off the ground, just enough for your feet to dangle slightly above the ground.

and for abby to move behind you and snake her arms around your waist.

you can somehow still feel her muscles through your hoodie, toned arms relaxed around your front. heat rises to your cheeks at the sudden contact, and you wonder why you don’t know how to get a grip.

you try to focus on the conversation abbys having with her friends, but you can’t seem to calm yourself down.

“blah blah blah lacrosse blah blah blah classes blah blah blah blah blah”

you occasionally smile and nod, letting out a laugh when everyone else does. trying to be cool about it.

trying to act like you can’t feel abby resting her chin on your head, messing with the fabric of your sweater, and making you feel queasy.

after a while, you can’t make yourself fake listen anymore, and you try to distract yourself by looking around the cafeteria. with limited mobility, you only really move your eyes, scanning the room with your limited view trying not to bother abby.

and as soon as you look to the left, you see that angry look you’ve grown to love.

ellie.

she’s staring at you, almost looking like she’s trying to explode you with her mind, and she’s completely disengaged from her friends conversation.

her eyes soften when they meet yours, offering a meek smile.

you look away, leaving ellie alone with her thoughts.

taglist:

if ur name is crossed i can’t tag u :((

@rimaybank @nickiminaj689 @leomcshizzle @planetflorxa @teawithnosugar @sawaagyapong @how-to-disappearrr @vsselz @pepperispicy @chrry1ovr @4yn1y4h @lottienatfinalgirls @honeycinnamonenthusiast @heartrobynn @ibatman @sugarbag @arizvla @seventeenelliesgf @gaptoothedlesbo @joannaaaasblog @nil-eena @natsprideandjoy @iylaa @abbyismywife @seattleellie0202020 @elleatethat @mostlyhornyandsad @hjjmmbv @dykefarts @nillaice @spinnyshark @honeystab @paleidiot @sunkissedpixies @greencacty @444na0m1 @deftonianfr

[oralmisery]

Horny for Horsepower

written for @steddiesmuttyseptember

[ complete fic on ao3 ]

Rating: E | WC: 2511 | tags: Fluff and Smut, Fluff and Humor, Crack, Steve is a car, Sex with a Car, Masturbation

Week two prompt: Backseat

Steve is a transformer and Eddie is the mechanic in love with him. Dustin accidentally spills soda all over Steve’s backseat and Eddie has to clean it up. In spite of Eddie's best efforts the sticky situation only gets stickier.

(in which Steve IS the backseat)

From his crouched position on the ground, Eddie shifted to the right, barely avoiding the car door that swung open. He wobbled in place and stuck a hand out to regain his balance. His hand smacked into the car's exterior, where he was scrubbing with a soapy sponge.   

“Hey! I wasn't even close to scratching your paint, this stuff is sticky, Dude. It's gonna take some elbow grease to get it out”, Eddie said. He swiped a forearm over his face, not sure if he's getting sweat or suds, but wanting to stop the trickle of moisture from getting in his eyes either way.

The door slammed shut in a huff but didn't move again when Eddie continued his scrubbing, notably with more care this time.

The 1983 733i maroon BMW was by far the most unique car Eddie had on the lot. The competition wasn’t steep, considering Munson Mechanic was a repair shop and junkyard in one. Most of the rusted cars around them were missing doors, side mirrors, engines, and decidedly not fit for the road. But, even if every hunk of junk on the property was in mint condition there would still be no competition. No, the maroon beamer was exceptional because it was actually a he . An alien–part of a race of autonomous robotic organisms that were hiding on earth disguised as human vehicles. And his name was Steve. 

Eddie sighed, “Ya know, this would be easier if we went to a car wash”.

The car’s radio turned on, 𝅘𝅥𝅮 shot through the heart and you're to blame 𝅘𝅥𝅮

“Okay! okay! drama queen”, Eddie said with a laugh. “I'll spend my afternoon handwashing you”.

𝅘𝅥𝅮 You're the best around, Nothing's gonna ever keep you down 𝅘𝅥𝅮

“That's more patronizing than encouraging”, Eddie muttered. He swiped the last of the dark residue from Steve’s sparkling maroon. “They don't do interiors anyways, and, ah, Dustin really got it everywhere in there”. Eddie looked into the backseat where soda was lazily dripping from the ceiling and drying on the leather seats.

Steve opened and shut all his doors in a synchronized angry click. Eddie was reminded of a kid stomping their foot.

“ I know , but he swore he didn't know Lucas shook it up before he handed it to him so it's not really his fault”.

Steve honked but Eddie knew the car wasn't actually mad, just like Eddie wasn't that annoyed cleaning up the mess. 

Steve loved the kids, he just had a grumpy way of showing it. Like, locking the doors on them when they tried to get in but driving them around the entirety of Hawkins anyways. Steve almost drove them into a ditch running down Billy Hargrove when he threatened the kids, but wouldn't move an inch until everyone's seat belts were fastened. Even this afternoon when Dustin doused the entire backseat and whatever got out the open window with an exploding can of grape soda, Steve still drove him home and did not start back up until the kid was safely in his house. He did pretend to run over the young teen’s foot but Eddie knew Steve wasn't even close, no matter what Dustin said.

Eddie grabbed a clean towel from the stack of cleaning supplies next to him and opened the back door wide. Steve started playing the only station that played metal. Truly a softie.

“Alright Stevie, let's get you shiny and new again”. 

Steve rocked side to side, in anticipation or impatience Eddie can't tell. Maybe both.

Eddie started wiping down the wet areas. He mopped up the ceiling and the puddle on the floor first. He then used both hands to drag the towel along the grooves of the leather seats, digging in with his fingers to get every seam. 

The radio cut out with static then stuttered back on.

“You okay?” Eddie asked, surprised, looking toward the dash.

Steve’s fuel gauge needle shot to FULL, meaning yes. A system Eddie had proposed when he and Steve first met.

“Okay…” Eddie said. Maybe Steve was more upset about being dirty than Eddie thought.

Eddie continued his movements, trying to be thorough. Steve was high maintenance at times. He’d let Eddie know, promptly and loudly , if he needed an oil change or his tire pressure was low and he refused anything but premium grade gasoline. Eddie honestly didn't mind that Steve was kind of a brat. He liked spoiling the automobile.

Finished getting all the wet soda, Eddie threw aside the ruined towel and grabbed a fresh one to dunk in the bucket of soapy water. Eddie got down on his knees on the ground beside Steve’s open door, bent over and with hard, fast motions started scrubbing the shit out of the carpeted floors.

Steve honked. A quick, seemingly accidental beep.

“Dude, are you sure you're okay?”, Eddie asked again. He paused and sat back on his heels, starting to worry. 

Steve’s fuel needle jumped back and forth a few times before shakily landing on FULL. 

[ continue reading ]

[raptorific]

A hypothetical, for the table! CW for gross/unsanitary health stuff. Not based on a true story

Imagine you're riding in the car of a friend or family member (let's say it's a him and call him Jim, for brevity's sake). Suddenly and without warning, you become lightheaded and dizzy, and lose consciousness.

You awake some time later in the back of ambulance in the parking lot of a car wash. Jim is nearby, wiping out the interior of his car. It seems, shortly after losing consciousness, you vomited.

The EMT tells you that you had terrible food poisoning, absolutely nothing you could've done to predict it. You'll be fine, as long as you take it easy and drink lots of fluids, etc. Jim is visibly shaken by the experience, and clearly has his hands full cleaning out his car while he waits for you to come to.

Details:

Assume you can afford to pay for his car to be cleaned

Jim is not demanding an apology and is a forgiving friend, even if you apologize you know his priority is that you're okay. That said, if you offer to clean the mess out of his car or pay for somebody else to, he won't reject that offer and will appreciate the gesture

[ominoose]

𝐀 𝐅𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐱𝐢 - 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐱 𝐅!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Summary: A taxi pulls up beside you to rescue you in the rain, turns out its no ordinary cab. Warnings: Smut (f!recieving oral, vaginal sex), google translated Spanish. WC: 2.5k A/N: Thank you to @minispidey for brainstorming this with me <3

The rain was unrelenting, the pavement reflecting the bright neon lights of New York as you stand at the corner of the block, holding your jacket over your head as if it could save you from the sudden storm. Taxi's were roaring past, almost splashing you as they sped on through busy street's, yet not paying any mind to your out stretched hand, waving wildly in the hopes of shelter and a ride.

With a sigh you drop your arm, trying to shake off the water that was running down onto your dampening top. There was no use, no way were you going to manage to catch a stray taxi on a Saturday night. As you turn in defeat, resigning yourself to walk home, a honk and bright lights catch your attention.

A slick, black taxi cab pulls up next to you, the windows completely tinted, shielding the interior and driver from view. You stare in confusion, looking left and right. Everyone was walking by with haste, hunched under umbrellas and rushing to get out of the rain, no one was stood waiting for a cab.

The hum of a window rolling catches your attention, and when you glance back towards the cab a man is resting an arm on the car door. A black flat cap sat low on his face, casting a shadow over his eyes, leaving only a dark mustache and a casual smirk to define him.

"You getting in or what, querido?" The voice had a husky New York drawl, casual and confident as he gestured between you and the door.

With only a moments hesitation you hurriedly step towards the cab, opening the door and dumping yourself into the seat, your jacket thrown beside you. For a moment you felt bad, wetting the leather seats of the one taxi that would stop for you.

"Thanks for pulling up, I was about to give up. Thought I was going to have to walk it home in the downpour." You huff out, offering a friendly smile to the man as you buckle in.

"No hay problema, wouldn't want a pretty lady like you getting too wet." The taxi rumbles to life, merging with the rest of the cars of and setting off.

It was a spacious cab, the kind that had two rows of seats facing one another with enough space in the middle to stretch your legs out. There was two clean towels folded on a seat to the left, with water bottles and a pack of wipes in the car door. 'What a nice cabi, leaving little amenities for customers', you thought before looking up at the glass separating the back and front of the taxi, trying to peer at the mysterious driver.

Stray dark curls peeked from the back of his flat cap, resting on the collar of a leather jacket and black gloved hands patted the wheel in a rhythm as a soft, classical Spanish song sounds through the radio. The man held an aura of mystery, leaning back against the seat like he'd done it a thousand times before, but you couldn't shake the feeling he held a cat like awareness. There was something about him, exuding a raw masculinity that he wielded nonchalantly.

"So, you dried off yet or are you still wet?" A small flush works up from your neck as he speaks, hoping he hadn't caught you staring.

"No I- I'm still a bit wet. Didn't want to waste your nice towels there, I'm basically soaked through so there'd be no point. Hope you don't mind me getting your seat a bit damp." You laugh a little self-consciously, looking down sheepishly at your wet clothes. You were thoroughly drenched.

"Soaking through you say?" The man repeats mirthfully, tutting a little, "No, the towels would be no use now, not when you are only going to get wetter."

You nod, smiling, chuckling with him automatically before his words sink in.

"Wetter?" You blink in confusion, glancing out the window at the passing lights as the taxi drives on, "Wait, I never told you where I wanted to go."

The man looks at you in the rear view mirror, dark eyes creasing with mischief.

"I'll tell you where I am going to, bebé. I am going to fuck you with my tongue until you've pulled out at least three clumps of my hair. Then I am going to fuck you into those back seats until your ass leaves a permanent imprint." The words were spoken casually, with a wave of his hand as if he was discussing any usual fare.

The taxi turned into a car park, slowly driving up a few floors before pulling into an empty corner. The lights were dim, flickering periodically, and if it weren't for the lights on in the taxi you likely wouldn't have been able to see much.

"W-What?" Your heart was almost thudding out of your chest, and as the man turned to look at you he only smirked in response, looking amused. His lack of an answer sends shivers down your spine, in both excitement and alarm.

As you're left processing the situation he's stepping out the front of the taxi and into the back, slamming the door behind him and sitting directly in front of you, legs spread and arms clasped atop his knees as he stares you down.

"So, cosa bonita, I think it's time we see just how wet you are, sí?" A leather clad finger gently taps your knee and slowly strokes up your thigh, all the while his eyes never leave yours, watching over your reactions with a dark intensity.

You don't stop him, exhilarated as you glance down to see his finger stop just at the top of your thigh making your breath catch in your throat. You gaze back up at him to see his eyes flicker to the top of your jeans before looking back at you, quirking his eyebrow expectantly.

Swallowing nervously, you take the hint, unbuttoning and unzipping your jeans, sliding the wet denim down slowly to your knees and yet by his expression it's not enough. You're forced to stand awkwardly, hunched over so you don't hit the roof and trying to fully lift your leg out your jeans when his gloved hands suddenly impact your ass with a loud smack.

"You weren't joking about being soaked through bebé, those panties will need to go too. Can't have you completely ruining my leather seats." He doesn't pay any mind as you gasp at your reddening rear, he only pats your thigh, encouraging you to strip for him.

Once again you do as he bids, biting your lip as you pull your underwear down past your knees. A deep groan leaves his throat as he brings a finger up to stroke over the skin of your thigh.

Without warning his hands grip at the soft flesh of your waist, pushing you back onto the seat as he kneels with one leg in front of you, nudging your thighs open with the other. Without hesitation's his head delves snugly between your thighs, kissing a line up and down your glistening folds.

"Dios mío, so fucking wet..." The man mumbles as he delves his tongue into your heat as deep as he can, his nose nudging at your clit while his gloved hands massage your thighs.

Your head slams back against the headrest of the seat as you arch into him. Flinging your legs over his shoulders, you knot your hands into his curls, knocking his cap off as you fight to bury his tongue further into you.

As you slowly start to grind against his face he splays his palm over your abdomen, his thumb reaching down to rub circles over your bundle of nerves. The stitching of the leather adds a hardness that has you keening with pleasure, griping his hair tighter. Just as he predicted.

He smirks into your skin, fucking you in deep strokes with his tongue, curling it into your walls as you pant harder and louder before he pulls back. The man licks his lips in satisfaction, a small string of slick coating his mustache and he tilts his head almost innocently as you whine at the emptiness you now felt.

"Aw, there there querido. Don't worry, I'm going to make you feel very, very good, all you have to do is lay down on those seats for me."

There was something about his voice, so calm yet commandeering, that had consistently doing anything he asked. With a breathless nod, you shift yourself and lay flat against the cold, now damp seats of the taxi, knees bent to fit.

"'Atta girl." He chuckles, patting your leg before he unzips his black trousers, pulling them and his boxers down in one practiced motion. His erection bounces up against his white shirt, leaving a tiny wet spot as a bead of precum slowly bubbled from the top. It was thick, a large vein curling up the underside and your lips parted in awe.

The man maneuvered himself between your legs, turning you on your side a bit to comfortably press himself against your as he shrugs off his leather jacket and chucks it onto the other seats. He keeps his gloves on, squeezing your thighs one more as he holds your leg up. His other hands strokes up and down his cock slowly, tapping it against your clit, drinking up your mewls and whines with a smug expression.

"Feel goods, huh? You ain't seen nothing yet." His words are all the warning you get before he slides into you all the way, bottoming out completely. He hisses as presses fully into you, squeezing your thigh enough to leave marks while his other hand pulls your shirt up to your chin, leaving your chest exposed. His hand leaves goosebumps in its wake as it smooths over your bare skin before he leans down and licks a wet strip from your belly button all the way up to your breasts.

"Please..." You whisper, begging as you push back against him, desperate for more friction, "Please, move, god I need more."

"So needy, maybe the neediest lady I've had yet." Before you can fully process the word's he pulls out until his tip is barely inside you, pausing for a moment to grin down at the look of anguish on your face before he thrusts back into you.

The man sets a brutal pace, pounding into you with enough force to rock the taxi. The inside is filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin while you gasp and moan loudly, too caught up in the searing pleasure to restrain yourself.

His leather thumb flicks your clit cheekily, a sharp yelp leaving you breathless at the touch before he rubs circles over it. The man was clearly experienced, angling his thrusts experimentally until he hit the spot that had your head craning back against the car door and left you seeing stars. Once he found your sweet spot he made sure to hit it with precision each and every thrust, unrelenting as he matched his pace the thumb swirling over your bud.

"That's right bebé, keep taking my cock, so fucking good for me." He sneers down at you, huffing hard through his nose as he slams his hips into yours. Your hand finds the bar on the car door and you grip it until your knuckles turn white, the pleasure coiling in your stomach almost becomes too much to bare and you're surprised you haven't cum already.

He seems to sense how close you are and groans as your walls preemptively tighten around his cock, but he kept his pace, not even letting his thumb falter as he fucked you into oblivion. The taxi was creaking from how badly it was being rocked, to anyone outside it would've been obvious what was happening within, but the outside world was lost to both of you.

"Oh god, I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come." You were babbling, eyes screwing shut as you arched against him, grinding yourself into his hardness.

"Do it, come on my cock, come for me." His sharp grunts were the last thing you heard before that coiling heat in your stomach bursts through the rest of your body, flooding ecstasy into your veins. Your nails rake down his shoulders as your body tenses, the walls of your pussy pulsing around the man's cock as he came.

The sudden feeling of his fingers bruising grip on your thigh was your only indication he'd come undone as well, the snapping of his hips stuttering as his thumb slowed its march around your clit.

You both lay there panting, trying to catch your breath as your limbs went weak, a very faint tingling present just underneath your skin.

After a moment the man pulls from you with a deep breath, his face neutral as he moves to grab a bottle of water from the car door.

"Not bad." He muses, taking a quick swig of popular, "I think you'll be popular, you make good noises. This'll get a fair number of views."

Slowly you sit up, wincing a little now you no longer have pleasure to dampen just how hard he had been plowing into you. The man throws a towel and pack of wipes at you, taking another drink.

"What do you mean? Views? Did you record this?" You ask each question in rapid succession, confused and concerned at the prospect of being filmed without consent. Letting a random taxi driver take you into a secluded parking garage for sex was a bad enough decision, having it plastered over the internet was a whole other game.

The look of confusion he turns to you with doesn't help.

"Uh, sí? How else would it be posted?" He looks you up and down for a moment, eyes narrowing as he tries to discern why you seem so bewildered.

"Posted? Posted where?!" At your words a flicker of understanding flashes over his face and the man turns fully to you, brow furrowed.

"To the porn site. This is the Fake Taxi. I pick up the actress from the designated spot, drive her, fuck her good, then it goes for editing and whatever before it is put online. You were standing at the designated spot." He speaks bluntly, watching you with narrowed eyes as you take in what he's saying, watching the realization dawn on you.

"Oh." You thought you'd gotten lucky when the sleek cab pulled up next to you, assumed he had saw you waving just before giving up. Neither was true, you'd been mistaken for a porn star.

"You are not the actress." The man states, not even a question at this point. It was obvious he'd picked up and fucked the wrong girl, and you find yourself curling up under the towel in embarrassment.

"No. I'm not."

He stares at you, face completely stony. Even as he takes another drink of water his dark eyes never leave yours. His expression shows nothing, giving no indication of whats going through his mind and the silence, the tension, has your heart beating a little faster as you wonder whether you were in trouble.

A gloved hand is held out in front of you as the mans signature knowing smirk curls its way back onto his face.

"I'm Jake Lockley. We make a good team."

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Five Little Ducks

Fandom: DC Comics, Batman

Summary: Bruce finds a magically de-aged Jason.

Chapters: 1/13

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Stephanie Brown, Duke Thomas, Zatanna Zatara

Additional Tags: De-Aged Jason Todd, Magic, Babysitting, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Angst, POV Third Person, Bruce Wayne is Not Okay, Bruce Wayne Tries, Jason Todd Has Issues, Childhood Trauma

Chapter One: Hickory Dickory Dock

Bruce leaped out of the Batmobile, blood pumping as he sprinted halfway across the docks and kicked in the warehouse door in a panic. He couldn't be too late. Not again. He looked around the room, his heart still beating in his ears. He shut his eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to regain his cool. Jason wasn't a child anymore. He could take care of himself. Jason was probably long gone. Bruce tried to reassure himself that everything was fine. He turned to leave just as a pipe clattered and clanged against the cement floor, followed by a gasp. Bruce met eyes with a little boy with a bloody nose and bruised knuckles. He sat in the corner of the room shaking and crying, wearing a hoodie that was so oversized it pooled over his feet.

The boy held both hands over his face, stifling sobs as his body shook. Bruce's shoulders dropped, and he made himself appear smaller and less imposing. He stepped forward to approach, and the child screwed up his face and broke into a sobbing mess. "Oh no, I'm not here to hurt you-." The little boy shook his head frantically.

"No! No," he pleaded. Bruce sighed and sat down where he stood.

"I only want to help," Bruce reassured him. "Can you step into the light for me?" The child shook his head. "My mask is awfully spooky, huh?" The boy nodded. "Don't worry. I'm just a regular man under the mask."

The little boy shivered in the cold. "It's too cold in here to stay all night... I actually have a ravioli soup to pick up in a little bit, and I couldn't possibly eat it all by myself. Do you know anybody who might want to eat hot and spicy ravioli soup with me?" Bruce questioned. The little boy's stomach growled. Bruce reached out, and the little boy took his hand. "Oracle-."

"Got it," Barbara replied. Bruce held his hand out, and the child finally accepted. Bruce took a wet napkin and wiped his face and hands clean, checking for signs of a broken nose.

"Does that hurt?" Bruce questioned. The little boy tried to stop himself from crying. "Does your head hurt?"

The little boy shook his head. "No..." His voice was small, almost mouse-like.

"Okay... I don't think anything's broken," Bruce whispered, "Will you come with me?"

Bruce walked him to the Batmobile and set up the car seat he kept around for emergencies. He buckled the boy in and checked to ensure the seat belt was secure. The little boy grabbed Bruce's wrist, and they locked eyes. There was a strange familiarity swimming around in the boy's downturned eyes. "Am I in trouble?" asked the boy. Bruce shook his head. "Are you gonna take me home after?"

"I'm going to try to. How'd you get way out here?" Bruce asked.

Bruce hopped in the Batmobile and started driving toward the restaurant in Little Italy. "I don't remember," the boy mumbled, "I usually remember things... But I don't know this time. I never go this far away by myself."

"Do you know what neighborhood you live in?" Bruce questioned. The little boy swung his feet as he looked around at the Batmobile's interior.

"Uh-huh. I live in the apartments on Park Row," the boy answered, "Mr. Batman, you hurt my daddy before... But sometimes, he does bad things. My mommy says sometimes people have to do bad things to survive."

"Well-."

"I think he had to go away again and get punished," the little boy explained.

"I'm sorry that I hurt your father," Bruce apologized.

"It's okay... You probably didn't know. Sometimes people hit people because they don't know better," the little boy justified. Bruce shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he pulled up into the alley.

"I'll be right back, okay?" Bruce asked. The little boy nodded.

Bruce went into the back entrance and paid for his order. He took an empty soup container and split his order in two before grabbing his forks and returning to the Batmobile. He climbed into the backseat and draped a napkin over the boy's lap before handing him his soup. "Thank you," the little boy whispered. Bruce could tell it'd been a while since the child's last meal, but he had excellent manners. Bruce ate with him in silence. "Do you know my name?"

Bruce shook his head. He thought it was a strange question. "Do you know Santa Claus?" the little boy questioned.

"No, I can't say I do," Bruce replied, "What is your name, by the way?"

"Jason," the little boy answered. Bruce turned to him and shook his head.

"Jason Peter Todd?" Bruce asked. Jason nodded and smiled.

"Hey! You told a fib! You do know my name," Jason giggled. Bruce's breath caught. How was that possible? Jason was a full-grown man when Bruce received the distress call earlier. Who could've done something like that to him? "Mr. Batman?"

Bruce took off his mask and looked him in the eye. He hoped it would spark something in Jason's memory. "Jason, how old are you right now?" Bruce questioned.

"You're Bruce Wayne," Jason grinned, showing Bruce the little gap in his front teeth.

"Jason, please. How old are you today?" Bruce asked.

Jason frowned. "I'm five... Are you mad at me?" Jason questioned. Bruce shook his head.

"Do you remember talking to me today? We talked to each other three times today... I've known you since you were twelve, and I-."

"Mr. Wayne... I'm five," Jason whispered.

Bruce sighed. Jason was literally five years old. He had no memory of the past nineteen years, and there was no way to explain any of it without traumatizing him. "Well, Jason, if your mommy and daddy aren't home, do you want to stay with me for a little while?" Bruce asked. Jason nodded.

"How'd you know my whole name?" Jason asked.

"I'm a good detective," Bruce answered. Jason hiccupped and apologized. "It's alright. Jason, is it alright if I take you to a doctor and let her bandage up your cuts?" Jason nodded. "If you're good, Dr. Thompkins might give you a sticker."

Jason lit up. "I know who Dr. Thompkins is! She helped my mommy once when she was sick," Jason explained. Bruce smoothed Jason's hair down in the back. He felt something warm and wet, like blood, and he drew his hand back to see a glowing inscription on his hand. Magic. Of course, it was magic.

Corpus et mens infantis ad cor infantis. It was written in liquid on Jason's head and Bruce's palm. Jason didn't notice the glowing green inscription. "Does Dr. Thompkins know you're Batman?" Jason asked. Bruce nodded. "Am I asking too many questions, Mr. Wayne?"

"You can ask all the questions you want, Jason. Okay?" Bruce reassured him. Jason nodded as he drank the tomato broth from his soup container. Bruce smiled and wiped Jason's face. "I used to have a little boy like you... Except he wasn't as little as you. He was older... But to me, he was my little boy."

"Is he gone?" Jason asked.

"Kind of," Bruce whispered.

"Do you miss him?" Jason questioned.

"All the time," Bruce whispered, "He was only little for such a short time. I wished I could turn back time and be better to him."

Jason looked at the sad expression on Bruce's face, and he tapped his shoulder. "I bet he misses you too," Jason reassured him.

[anmolsmsblog]

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[mouseratz]

Adderall is insane. I just cleaned the entire interior of our car like vacuumed and wiped down and everything. which has not been cleaned in probably five years and was full of trash. but nobody ever had the energy to do anything about it. it took like four hours and I'm tired now but like. wtf. how the fuck did I do that .

[deepestfestivallight]

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[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

Hope the end of your school year went well! From the new alphabet prompt, what about Going on a road trip and being so regular about it.

Hey, love. It was tough, and I crashed in more ways than one afterwards, but I'm doing better now. Thanks for the prompt! Have some in between high school and college Everlark shenanigans on me.

~~

When the beat up blue car pulls around the corner, I rise and grab my bag that’s been serving as a bench.

I’m actually surprised he’s this early. It must not have taken long to pick up the rest of our group. But I wanted to be out here and not risk anyone having to ring our bell and realize it doesn’t work. Or risk them stepping on the third step, which is basically splinters pretending to be a step. Or see the wreck of our living room after my mom worked double shifts for a week to get the last bit of tuition I couldn’t cover with scholarships, while I worked double shifts to save up for this trip.

I’ve been both dreading and anticipating it, and watching my ride slowly drive down the street, as though the driver is unfamiliar with the neighborhood, I catch myself biting my thumb nail and quickly wipe it on my jeans. 

The car stops smoothly, no squealing of brakes, and I blink as I notice that it’s only the driver in the car. Guess he picked me up first.

“Hey,” Peeta Mellark says as he gets out of the car his brothers have all shared for the past eight years as they worked their way successively through high school. He greets me like we’re old friends instead of virtual strangers who sometimes got paired in our math classes.

“Guess I get shotgun,” I say as I stagger towards the trunk with my bag.

“Perks of being first pick up,” he says and takes my bag from me. He places it gently in the trunk, like it weighs nothing, right next to his. “So Madge is next, then Seamus.”

I try not to gag at the reminder. Madge is fine. I like Madge, but Seamus is a jackass and a half. At least Peeta is picking him up last, so I don’t have to spend as much time in the car with that dickhead.

“Great,” I say and open the car door before sliding in. The interior smells fresh. Clean. The floorboards are spotless, as is the upholstery. I’m actually shocked at how clean the car is, given that the car has a reputation as a Shaggin’ Wagon, along with his older brothers’ reputations as total horn dogs.

I blush as I consider how that reputation has extended to Peeta since he started driving the car last year with both his older brothers finally off at college. The whispers from girls about how it’s always a good time driving with Peeta.

I squirm in the seat and hope he shampooed the upholstery too. The last thing I want to think about is what’s gone down in this seat. I glance behind me as Peeta pulls away from the curb and decide the bench back seat isn’t a better option.

“So, Katniss,” he says and I scoff at the clear attempt at either small talk or a pick up.

“Brakes don’t squeal anymore,” I say and Peeta shifts gears, then runs a hand through his hair.

“Uh yeah. Neither of my brothers were really good about the routine maintenance on the car. I’ve been fixing things here and there, changed out the belts and filters, flushed a few of the fluids and gave her fresh ones, new wiper blades, that sort of thing. But the tires and brakes were expensive so that was a more recent thing.”

“Oh. Extra shifts at the bakery since graduation covered it?” 

“Yeah, barely,” he says and taps his fingers on the wheel before he shifts to third and starts the winding road up to Madge’s home.

“How about you? Been working extra summer shifts too?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Oh. Well it’s just usually you bring your sister into the bakery during summer. Haven’t seen you guys yet. That’s all. Figured you must be busy.”

“Gotta make gas and grocery money somehow,” I mutter.

Peeta doesn’t answer though, because we’ve reached Madge’s house. She too is waiting outside, with two suitcases standing side by side, gleaming in the sun. Her father waits with her. I fiddle with the vents and climate control as Peeta gets out of the car. Notice a cooler and a snack bag on the floorboard in the back as I halfway listen to Peeta talk to Mr. Undersee and load Madge’s bags.

Madge slides in and rolls down her window. “Bye Daddy!”

“Call me when you get to Aunt Maysilee’s tonight.”

“I know I know,” Madge cuts him off. “And when we hit the road in the morning. And anytime we stop for more than thirty minutes, and when we get to Panem U tomorrow afternoon. I’ll be with Katniss and Peeta the whole time, Daddy. He’s a super safe driver and you know she’ll take care of us.”

Mr. Undersee talks to Peeta for a few more minutes, and it’s clear that he’s asking Peeta about the maintenance on the car, the planned route we’ll be taking.

I take the chance to turn around and hiss at Madge. “You didn’t tell me he’d be picking me up first.”

“I didn’t?” she asks a little too innocently.

“Whatever,” I say and turn back around to find a decent radio station. I’m a little miffed that Madge didn’t warn me. She knows I don’t have a smartphone and couldn’t be on the group thread Peeta started for our road trip. I’ve had to talk to the group and Peeta through Madge to get ready for this trip.

“Figured you’d enjoy a few minutes alone with him,” Madge says right in my ear, making me gasp. “I mean, you do like him, don’t you?”

“Everybody likes him,” I say and give up on the radio. 

“Yeah, but you really like him,” Madge hints. I’m grateful when Peeta opens his door. Final farewells are said and Peeta gets back in, Madge sits back and buckles her belt.

“Alright, Seamus and then we’re on our way,” Peeta says. Madge groans and then leans forward towards Peeta.

“Do we have to?” I’m a little surprised. Madge is usually so quiet and nice, but Peeta actually laughs.

“Unfortunately, yes. Our mothers are in the same book club and I’ll never hear the end of it I don’t. He’s signed up for the same orientation slot as us.”

“More good news,” Madge says and flips back in her seat.

We’re friends, Madge and I, at least the kind of friends who sit together at lunch and assemblies and in any shared classes. We stick together in P.E. And when we found out we’d be going to Panem U together, we signed up as roommates for the dorm, and for the same early June orientation. But I’ve never seen her as chatty as she is for the ten minutes it takes to drive through the ritzy part of town to Seamus Henderson’s house. She and Peeta seem to know each other. At least they seem to know each other better than I realized…

If possible, Seamus’s place is even bigger than Madge’s. More ostentatious too. If the Undersee house is classy, this place screams Too Much Money.

Peeta tells us he’ll be right back and leaves the car running while he walks up to the door to ring the bell.

“Why’d you think I like him?” I ask and Madge snorts.

“Because you get all blushy and flustered around him.”

“I do not,” I protest.

“Well, blushy and flustered for you. And anytime I relayed a question he had about time or plans or even what kind of snacks you might like to have, you answered with ‘Whatever is easiest for Peeta,’” she says and I scowl at her.

“Well he is doing us a huge favor by driving us,” I say. “Gas money is expensive.”

“Hm so you just wanna make it easy on him and conveniently, you’re riding shotgun, where you’ll be the most likely conversation partner and be responsible for his comfort the whole drive,” Madge says and grins at me, then something outside the window catches her eye. “Ugh. Jerk incoming.”

I turn around and sit fairly still as Peeta and Seamus load Seamus’s bags in the trunk, plotting Madge’s demise for manipulating me into this situation. 

I almost stop plotting when Seamus drops in the car and asks if Peeta packed any beer as he rummages in the cooler.

“Uh no. Sorry,” Peeta says. I catch Madge rolling her eyes and scooting closer to the window.

“Sup, Undersee. Lookin’ good today.”

“Hi Seamus,” she says.

For a few seconds, I feel bad for Madge in the backseat and grateful that I’m sitting next to Peeta instead. But then Peeta shifts his car into reverse to back down out of Seamus’s driveway and his knuckles brush up against my knee.

I jerk my knee away from his touch.

“Sorry,” he says and turns to look behind him as he backs up and I stare at the side view mirror on my side, watching us roll down the hill towards the street.

“Here,” Peeta says as we’re stopped at a red light. He pulls his phone from a small cubby and holds his thumb on it to wake it, then hands it to me. “Why don’t you pick some music for us?”

“Um,” I stare at the tidy pattern of icons on top of a background of a stunning sunset over the mountains. And I blank. Some of them appear to be folders, labeled by category. Art. Food. School Stuff. Sports. Random Sh**. Music.

I smile slightly at the Random S** and tap on the one for music. And stare at five different apps. “Which one?” I ask helplessly.

“Here,” Madge says, leaning over and pointing to the one called Pandora. I open it but have no idea what I’m looking at.

“You look a little lost there Everdeen. Never seen an iPhone before?”

“Shoot. I forgot,” Peeta says and extends his hand to me. I burn with humiliation as Seamus laughs. The reminder that I have a cheap flip phone still and I’m lucky Mom managed that much for us.

“It’s fine,” Madge says and reaches around me to tap a few things. Music starts playing on the car speakers. One of my favorite bands, actually, and I tuck Peeta’s phone back in its cubby. “I’ll show you on mine when we stop,” Madge says and I nod, biting my lip and scrambling for something I can do.

“You hungry, Peeta?” Madge speaks up and I grab hold of it, turning in my seat to check through the bag I saw there earlier as soon as Peeta says he could eat.

“Wow,” I say after a cursory glance at the food packed in it. “You’ve got a feast in here. What are you in the mood for?”

“Uh, some of the licorice,” he says.

“Good choice,” I say as I grab the package. I turn around, but not before I catch Seamus’s look of disgust.

“Ugh. You eat that garbage, Mellark?”

“It’s way better than the cheap, waxy cherry stuff some people seem to like,” I say as I tear open the package. I peel off a few of the gleaming black, swizzled sticks. And when I look up to hand them to Peeta, he’s smiling at me. Sort of. Just his lips curled up and an odd look in eyes. “Here.”

“Thanks,” he says and takes them from me. Eyes back on the road, he quietly says. “You can have some, too. If you like them. I’ve got two packages in there.”

“Oh. Thanks,” I say and pull one out for myself. Seamus goes back to his game, and Madge is reading a book. Every few minutes, Peeta will shift his hand over towards me and I’ll set a few sticks of licorice in his palm as he asks me a question. Simple stuff, like my major, what classes I’m hoping to register for during our orientation, if I’ve got a dorm room or am living off campus.

At one point, Seaums snores Madge giggles. I turn around and cover my mouth as I snort in laughter when I see she’s decorated him with Pixie Sticks. Shoved them up his nose, in his collar like spikes, even poking out of his hair.

“I’m sorry, is this wrong?” she asks and Peeta chuckles softly. 

“Just make sure you get a picture,” he tells her and Madge hands me her phone. This I actually do know how to do, having spent a fair enough amount of time around Madge. I snap a picture of her and Seamus, then one of just him before handing the phone back to her.

Peeta’s grinning at me, and I relax back into my seat. Maybe this road trip won’t be so bad.

[ashrillvenheim]

Awakening Past

Chapter 17 part 2

pairing: Ashley Graham x Leon S Kennedy.

Content: (+18) romance, angst, gore, erotic/suggestive themes at some point, slow burn, violence, action, self-harm, death talk,

If you're a MINOR DON'T keep reading, thank you.

Archive of our own / WORK LIST / Awakening Past Masterlist

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Her amber eye twitched.

“ That scratch wasn't there.”

Casey tensed and looked at the corner her friend pointed to.

“ Yes it was, I've barely used the car.”

Ashley looked up from the scratches on the side of her vehicle and circled around.

John stared at Casey and Sergio, aware that they had done something when he hadn't been there.

“John, do you have proof?” the blonde asked, crossing her arms. The light-eyed man sighed.

“ Even I don't know where it came from.” he paused. “ But I think I have an idea.”

Casey glared at her roommate and was reproachful when Sergio dropped to his knees on the floor.

“It was my fault, Ashi!”

Casey interjected.

“ No, I was the one who asked him to, Sergio just did what I told him to do.”

Ashley looked at her two friends.

“And what did you ask him to do?”

“ I..." the woman grunted inwardly.” I forgot that I was the one who had to drive when we went out on Saturday and... Sergio had to bring me back.

“ I didn't see the tree properly when I parked.” Sergio sobbed, defeated and with his head down.

Graham watched them for long seconds in silence. Leon was behind her, leaning against the airport parking lot post, listening and holding back laughter throughout the contest.

Ashley finally sighed. She noticed that the car was spotless and the interior had been wiped down to remove the last bit of dog hair it might have had.

“ Did you clean it?” she asked Sergio.

The dark-haired man nodded crestfallen.

“ I tried to hide the streaks with a product, but it didn't work.” he apologized and the blonde finally gave in.

“ I forgive you for cleaning the car and telling me.” she reached over to make him stand up again and reached out to give casey a slap.

“ Ow! Why is that?”

“ So that next time you remember not to drink when you're the one driving.”

The copper blonde mumbled under her breath, but ended up nodding and apologizing as well.

The five of them got into the car to head back to Boston.

And that's when what Ashley had feared started to happen.

“How was the trip?” Casey asked with a smile. “Did you find anything?”

“ We did.” Ashley replied with that perfected smile. “We found remains of Roman catacombs.

All three looked at her in surprise.”

“I'd love to see your first discovery." Sergio said happily, but this time it was Leon who followed.

“ Yeah well, that's going to be difficult, we almost didn't get out of the tunnel.

All three exclaimed and Ashley elbowed her partner even though they had already talked about this on the plane.

“ It's an exaggeration, but yes, there was a landslide. It seems there had already been several in the last few years and this one had ended up crushing the ruins. “

“ Oh boy...and can't the ruins be excavated?” Casey asked somewhat hopefully.

Ashley sighed.

“ You could, but it's too big of an investment and I don't know if it will ever get done. Besides, they were quite deep and that makes it even more complicated, so who knows, maybe in the future, but I honestly don't think so.”

“Wow, too bad Ashi, we would have liked to see your first discovery.” Sergio said discouraged. 

“Don't worry I just started, I still have plenty of time to discover more things.”

Leon looked sideways at Ashley, seeing how she was subtly drumming on the steering wheel, that little mania she knew to perfection.

 And then Casey decided to get back to business.

“So, what's the news?”

Ashley arched her eyebrows as John sipped his water.

“What's news? What do you mean?” Graham asked.

“Have you two slept together yet?”

John spat.

Ashley swerved.

And Leon let out every curse he knew.

“Casey!” Sergio exclaimed indignantly, although his face indicated the same interest.

“Leon, do you carry the gun?”

“Always with me.”

“In the ditch over there looks good to you?”

“Out in the open. There might be a more discreet place in that service area.”

“How many bullets you got left?”

“One's enough for me.”

“Good.”

“ Great.”

*

Casey held on to Sergio and the car's doorknob while Leon and Ashley pulled on her legs.

“I'm sorry!!! I won't ask again!!!!!” she shrieked, desperate to get back to the safety of the car.

“ Leon, get out the chloroform.”

“ASHIII!!!”

*

The rest of the trip was uneventful.

*

The five of them got out of the car and Casey went up to her apartment with Sergio, crestfallen. John smiled at her friend's downcast look and turned to Ashley and Leon.

“You've only added fuel to the fire.” he said to Leon.

“What's to blame me?” said the agent indignantly.

“ Being Ashley's friend before Casey. She's too fond of love gossip.”

“Ems doesn't fall short.” sighed Ashley, making his friend laugh.

“ The difference is that Ems thinks it, but doesn't say it.”

“ I don't know which is worse.” exhaled Graham in exasperation, then gave John one last hug. “I'll see you soon, let me know when you're free.”

The boy nodded and watched Ashley and Leon turn towards the car. He watched them for a few seconds in silence before speaking.

“ Hey.” They both turned to him. “Whatever you're doing, be careful.”

They both looked at John and Ashley couldn't help but smile gently. She was trying to hide the truth from them and even if they didn't know it, they were aware of many things, especially John.

“ We'll have it.” Leon told him firmly.

John nodded and turned on his heel to go upstairs.

They drove calmly back to Amherst. It was soon dark and the rhythmic passing of the streetlights lulled them into a kind of trance.

Leon took over at the end of the trip and put on some blues to entertain himself. Ashley hummed a few songs in soft whispers and Leon accompanied her on the bass, something that made the time pass more slowly or made them feel more abstracted from reality.

They finally reached the street of their apartments and calmly carried their bags upstairs. Ashley entered her apartment and the first thing she did was follow a scent to the refrigerator. When she opened the metal door she smiled as she saw that Emily had left them dinner ready for their return.

She set down the bags and began to take out the food.

“ Hey Leon, Ems played chef for us.” laughed Graham calling out to his partner.

Leon left his bags at home and went over to Ashley's place.

“ Remind me to roll out the red carpet for her next time she comes over.” he thanked with a sigh, glad they didn't have to cook or order food.

They set the table at Ashley's house and both felt the lack of the dogs still with Narsson, but the quietness in the atmosphere made them keep their feet on the ground. Leon felt surprised when they started dinner. Amazed that he felt more at home there in Amherst than in Washington, where he had been living for the past few years.

He had only been here four months and...it felt like home.

His blue eyes lifted to the woman eating next to him as they watched a program.

Maybe she had made everything feel cozier.

He drank water and his memories dragged him back to many years ago, when no place seemed safe to him, when he watched every corner with his pulse racing and terrified of the beasts that lurked in the dark.

When everything he knew as reality was destroyed in a single night.

They almost knocked over the table when the phone rang and Ashley cursed in fright. She pulled the cell phone out of her pocket and saw it was Narsson.

“ I didn't know if you were awake.” she said to Ashley.

“ Casey called Maria to tell her you were on your way, so I wanted to call you, how was your trip?”

The blonde sat on the couch while Leon put the dishes away in the dishwasher.

“ A bit bumpy, but pretty good. A pity that a landslide left all the ruins buried.”

“ Well, at least they won't move from there.” Enma joked, but Ashley was silent in thought.

"I hope so." she said to herself and then resumed the conversation.

“ Yes, that's true.” she paused, leaning back in her seat. “ I'll pick up the dogs tomorrow, they haven't given you much work, have they?”

“ Don't worry, you know I get along with them.”

Ashley arched her eyebrows.

“ Tell me you haven't given Mint coffee, you know what happened last time.”

Narsson laughed on the other side.

“ Don't remind me, don't worry, I didn't. I just gave them some extra dog cookies.”

Ashley scoffed softly.

“ You're going to spoil them.”

“That's what Aunt Narsson is for, otherwise who would give them to them?”

They both laughed and chatted some more about banal things. Enma asked about the trip to Spain, but Ashley was terse and didn't give her many details. She told her about the Roman catacombs and that they had to climb to find an entrance. She just hoped it would be enough to convince Narsson.

For now.

“ I'll call you tomorrow Enma, I have to talk to my father first.” she finally told him, her eyelids feeling heavier and heavier.

“ Okay, good night Ashley.”

“ Good night Narsson.”

She dropped the cell phone to the side and sighed heavily, closing her eyes.

“Do you know how you're going to approach her?” Leon asked her from the kitchen and she grunted.

“ I haven't the slightest idea.”

How was she going to ask him to join the investigation without telling her too much? Her head was spinning and as the minutes ticked by she was finding it harder and harder to focus.

She was good at improvising but she didn't know if this was one of those situations. Maybe the best thing to do would be to plan the details, think about every possible question Narsson could ask him about it and prepare it beforehand, yes... that would be the best option, plan everything...

“ I've already put everything away Ash.”

Leon wiped the countertop dry and hung up the rag. He arched his eyebrows in the direction of the living room.

“Ash?”

He walked over to look over the couch and a sweet smile formed on his lips when he found her sound asleep. He crossed his arms over the back of the couch and watched it for a few seconds.

He had to be thinking about so many things... he reached out unconsciously and brushed a strand of her hair away from her face. As he did so he caressed her pink cheek and paused at the touch of her soft skin.

Leon felt a tingle, remembering her sweet caresses when he had been delirious, but which he now remembered sharply.

Then his eyes traveled to her half-open lips and he spent too many seconds staring at them.

He shook his head and cleared his throat and then rounded the couch and took her in his arms to carry her into the bedroom.

He didn't look at her anymore. Not if he wanted to keep his self-control.

He took off her shoes and jacket and went back into the kitchen.

"Focus Kennedy, you're her partner now. Don't waste her father's trust." he said to himself as he grabbed his keys and locked up behind him to go back to his apartment.

*

The next morning William called Leon when Ashley didn't answer her cell phone. He was no longer surprised by the president's calls.

He had to go get Ashley so the man could explain to both of them the latest developments.

 Graham had already talked to the Springfield Natural Museum and they had given over one of their labs for Ashley's new team's research. They had made a deal to invest in refurbishing the museum and updating their lab equipment, so it didn't seem to have raised any suspicions.

He mentioned to them that Patrick and Maria were already aware, but they hadn't told either Narsson or Sasha, especially the latter, who was only Narsson's secretary and needed to be involved as little as possible. Fortunately he was working in the administration of the faculty library, so he would be out of danger. For now Patrick still had an eye on him.

When they finished their conversation with William, Ashley decided to start moving things along and it didn't take long to call Narsson and summon her to the museum.

“ We need to stop by and do some paperwork, I'll see you there.” was all the blonde said to her former teacher.

Leon could sense his partner's racing heart all morning, but said nothing, even though Ashley was aware that her nerves were not escaping his ears.

They prepared Ashley's car for the dogs and after grabbing the DSO reports and folders they climbed into the vehicle.

Graham rested her hands on the steering wheel and stood silently for a few seconds staring at a distant point.

“Is something wrong?” Leon asked.

“ I don't like bringing Narsson into this, I don't know if it's a good idea.”

“ They tried to kidnap her Ash. Before our trip to Spain she was already a target. Her knowing more about the parasite is inevitable. If they had taken her she would have found out anyway.”

Ashley drummed on the steering wheel.

“ Yeah... you're right. I may... still be trying to get as few people as possible into my business.”

“ You learned that from me. I'm getting better at it, but don't follow my example.” the man told her with a smile, remembering how when he went to Spain, he would dismiss all the attention she gave him just so he wouldn't worry her.

But in the end that only made her more distressed.

So he had to learn too.

“ Besides.” he wanted to add. “ You are going to offer her this proposal. She is within her rights to refuse and not participate. You are not forcing her.”

Those words seemed to calm her down a bit.

“ You're right. I guess I'm making a mountain out of a molehill.” she exhaled deeply. “ Come on, we don't want to keep her waiting.”

He started the car and Leon smiled.

“Didn't you say punctuality wasn't Narsson's forte?”

The blonde got out of the garage and pulled onto the road.

“ But it is Maria's, and she has a very bad temper when people don't show up at the appointed time.”

They both laughed.

*

Just as Ashley had said, Maria and Narsson showed up at exactly the right time.

It was ironic, Leon thought, after all both Maria and he were agents and Kennedy had always been unpunctual.

Both for the good... and for the bad.

The dogs ran out of Narsson's hands towards Ashley and him. Mint jumped on Ashley who grabbed him like a child and Leon knelt down to hug Pepper who licked his face nonchalantly.

The two laughed at the welcome and took a few minutes to catch up on their mundane lives.

Before getting into the storm.

Narsson and Maria couldn't help but watch the dogs walk alongside each of the youngsters, with their favorite humans. They looked like a little family.

They walked through the halls of the museum. Ashley put special harnesses on her dogs as guard animals so they could go with her. They all rode the elevator down to the labs and walked to one of the back rooms.

When they entered Narsson looked the room up and down.

“ Wow Ashley, you sure did hurry, though it's ironic.” she smiled, turning to her former student. “ The one who said she wouldn't work in a lab.”

Ashley gave a slightly nervous smile.

She didn't know where to start or how to go about it. How was it possible, she had been able to give a confidential talk to her own father and she wasn't able to do the same with her teacher?

The difference was that she didn't know anything .

Ashley's smile slowly faded.

Enma knew nothing about biological weapons or deadly viruses or medieval parasites.

So did she. Before she was kidnapped and taken to Spain.

Just as they had tried to kidnap Narsson, but... this time she was able to prevent Enma from suffering the same fate.

And yet, there she was, planning how to tell her something she had kept secret from her ever since she had known her.

Part of Ashley wished that when she told her everything she would slap her in the face and walk out the door.

But all those what ifs were no longer valid. They were there and she had to talk.

Now or never.

“ Yes, that's what I had you come over for.” The blonde finally said, still not quite sure how to continue the conversation.

Leon had been sensing Ashley's uncertainty ever since they had opened the lab door. With his hands in his pockets he leaned back against the edge of one of the long lab tables and met Maria's gaze.

“ So, do you need some advice?” Enma asked.

Maria knew Graham and in her expression she could see something that didn't fit. Vazquez looked at Leon, who looked back at her silently. The man's expression made her understand that now she had to listen. 

“I... I could say yes.” she paused, taking a deep breath. “I rather need your knowledge, Enma.”

Narsson arched his eyebrows without quite understanding. Leon and Maria watched in silence and the man heard Ashley's heart thud.

"You can do it, princess." he thought to himself.

“ My knowledge?”

Ashley nodded and leaned against the table.

“ In Spain... we found some fossils that reminded me of the specimens you discovered on your first expeditions and... I would like you to take part in our research.”

Narsson's eyes widened and his index finger glowed with excitement.

“ Can I see the fossil?”

Leon's muscles tensed under his clothes and his blue eyes slid softly to Ashley. He could see Ashley's body react the same way for an instant and her heart flutter.

“ Sure.” Graham said pulling a folder out of her backpack. “They haven't been able to bring it here yet, but they probably will tomorrow.” she reported with calculated calmness, pulling out some photographs.

She spread them out on the table and Narsson approached.

Maria watched the two women from her position next to Leon and whispered quietly just for him to hear.

“ Leon, can you explain to me what's going on? What did you find there?”

The agent did not take his eyes off the archaeologists.

“Did you read my report from Spain?”

“ When Ashley crossed the Atlantic to come after you I was asking Hunnigan to let me read it so I could understand why she was doing something insane like this.”

Leon took a soft breath and exhaled through his nose.

“We found remnants of those things much older than what I described in the report.”

Maria opened her eyes wide and without gave the blood rushing through her body.

“Do you think those parasites could be a danger?”

Leon frowned.

“I don't know and I don't want to check, that's why Ashley wants Narsson's help, to find them as quickly as possible, before something like Spain can happen again.”

Narsson looked at the photographs of the specimen and paled on the spot.

That was... a specimen too well preserved to be a fossil.

That shell was very similar to an ammonite specimen that survived into the early Cenozoic, but not much. It was that discovery that opened up a lot of paths for her when she started out in that world, but....

This one she was showing Ashley was... different.

The specimen looked a lot like the one she found over a decade ago, but this one had... something embedded or even... fused with its shell.

Enma took the photos in her hands and sat down at the wide table with a serious expression. She looked carefully at the photographs, analyzing that strange shape that was attached to the cephalopod's shell.

It did not look like a sea plant that had grown on the shell. Nor was it a deformation of the shell, since the patterns on the shell were clearly linear, so....

That was another living thing.

And in all her years of studying and exchanging knowledge with other paleontologists, they were not at all familiar with the existence of such a creature.

Enma remained silent and understood that what she was seeing was something new. Something that seemed not to have been discovered yet.

Her heart began to pump hard, but she tried to remain calm as she raised her greenish eyes to her former student.

“ This... is something else Ashley, there is something else.” the teacher told her seriously. 

Ashley nodded cautiously.

“Yes, that's why I wanted to show it to you, so you could help me... discover its origin.”

She may have been impulsive and selfish at times, but she was no fool. That tiny pause in Ashley's sentence, that hesitation was enough for her to know that there was more, that there were many coincidences since she'd known her.

Too many.

Narsson gently sat upright in his seat, looking calmly at his former student

“Ashley... this isn't your ambition for wanting to get into the industry sooner rather than later, is it?”

Graham kept her emotions at bay, but her fingers twitched imperceptibly against the edge of the table. She took a soft intake of breath with the intention of denying what Narsson was telling her, but the teacher was quicker.

“It's personal, isn't it?”

Ashley was left with the words half-spoken, aware that there was no way to make Enma think otherwise.

Student and teacher looked at each other for a moment.

“A little.” she finally replied.

Enma crossed her arms.

“When I suggested that you study paleobiology, but you didn't know how to answer me until you came back from a "vacation," was it because of this?”

Ashley knew at that moment she was lost and Enma knew she couldn't lie to her anymore, the question was, to what extent could she pry the information out of her?

The blonde sighed.

“That trip influenced my decision, yes.”

Narsson did not take her eyes off her and added with the same temper he rarely showed.

“Is this the reason your father got angry at the party?”

“One of them.” she nodded, keeping her cool and calm.

Narsson took a few seconds longer to ask his last question, one that even Ashley wouldn't have thought he would ask.

“This creature... is it related to the origin of that scar of yours?”

This time Ashley couldn't help but widen her eyes. She knew that Narsson never bought her story of surgical treatment in Europe, well, yes to some extent, but with doubts.

And this was the question as to whether he could place his trust in her.

Ashley took a few moments to answer, shifting her weight on her leg several times, thinking about not lying to him or telling him the truth.

She shouldn't. It was confidential information, she shouldn't tell him details.

Although... it wasn't a detailed question, but... a probing one.

He raised his amber irises to his former tutor and stared at her.

“ Yes, it is.”

Narsson held Graham's gaze and something in her felt... warm, as if she had just managed to jump over that little wall that had always stood between them and had been getting smaller and smaller since the kidnapping attempt.

Enma gave a faint smile and let out a faint laugh.

She raised her greenish eyes and smiled defiantly. This was an enigma that was too much for her.

“ Count me in.”

*

The door opened and a long sigh echoed behind him. Ashley plopped down on the couch and the dogs ran around, happy to be back home.

Leon removed their harnesses and hung them on the perches in the entryway and then turned to his companion.

“It wasn't so bad, was it? You didn't have to tell him about the plaga.”

Graham leaned her head back against the back of the sofa.

“But she'll figure it out, Leon. I guess I'll have to keep an eye on her for safety.”

“We'll have to keep an eye on her.” Leon punctuated by gently slapping her forehead and looking down on her. “I'm your partner now, not your escort.”

Ashley stared at him for a few seconds and then smiled.

“ You are right. It's a shame, I won't be able to play bodyguard jokes on you anymore.”

“Be careful, now I can take more liberties.” he joked, tapping her on the forehead.

Ashley pushed his hand away with arched eyebrows.

“More than you already had? That's going to be hard, we looked like roommates.”

“That's true.” laughed the man softly, turning away and heading for the exit. “I should go inform Hunnigan about today.”

Graham waved goodbye.

“I'll attend to my father.” she turned on the couch to look at Leon.” Would you like to go for a run later?”

Leon gave him a thumbs-up gesture.

“ Sure, let me know when you want to.”

She watched him leave and the two of them briefed their respective contacts on recent events.

Now they just wanted to enjoy a bit of a normal afternoon before returning to work the next day. A breather before the storm.

***

Broken glass crunched under his boots.

His breath formed a haze that blurred his vision.

Cold sweat trickled down the back of his neck, soaking his uniform.

He didn't know how long he had been hanging around the police station.

The wood of the stairs creaked again, over jumping him and making him point the gun behind him.

He was alone.

He sensed the tremor in the gun he wielded and bit his tongue to keep his pulse steady.

"Don't hesitate. If you miss you are a dead man." he repeated to himself in the silence of his mind.

He had to find a way out.

Marvin was running out of time.

The thunder echoed outside like bombs and the rain pounded the glass in the corridors loudly.

The sound was overwhelming.

Too much noise. Too much noise.

His heart was pounding like a hammer, the only thing that made his body able to move, to keep going.

Time had stopped in that place. Everything seemed static.

The silence was deafening and the smell of blood that stained his uniform made his eyes sting.

Why did this have to happen?

Why did he always have to be late?

He was late when that mercenary broke into his house to kill them all and he was too late to call the police. He was eleven years old, but... he could have been quicker.

What about now?

He was late for his first day of work because he had too much to drink in his grief.

If he had arrived earlier... maybe they could have evacuated faster, maybe Marvin wouldn't have been attacked, and maybe....

A grunt made him react and raise the gun with muscles tensed like wires.

His body ached.

Every muscle ached horrendously.

But terror was fueling his survival instinct.

The growling stopped and he turned down the hallway cautiously.

There was nothing. He was still alone.

He let out the air he hadn't realized he was holding and lowered the gun. 

He had to get back to Marvin now that he had the key to the exit.

He turned on his heel and his heart stopped.

That wasn't the hallway she had come down.

He turned his head and the corner disappeared, revealing a long corridor behind him.

Where was he?

Then he began to hear sobbing. A female voice echoed down the hallway along with strange ...wet sounds.

He picked up his flashlight and gun and began to walk cautiously.

With each step, the pained moans grew louder and he began to hear a sort of rustling sound.

“Marvin?” he called out into the darkness with his heart in his throat.

No one answered. Then his flashlight illuminated a figure kneeling on the ground. It looked like a woman.

“Claire?”

The figure was sobbing and leaning toward the ground. Where a body seemed to be resting.

And from the paleness it did not appear to be alive.

The flashlight illuminated the woman's blonde hair.

“Hello?” His voice was shaky as he approached cautiously and then he began to perceive that familiar figure. That voice he had heard even in his sleep and that shiny, silky hair that was now stained with blood and grime.

“Ash...ley?”

The figure stopped with shaking shoulders. A sob echoed loudly in the hallway.

“Ashley it's me...are you okay? what are you doing here?”

She shouldn't be there, his memories were jumbling.

Ashley was still on her back, but she seemed to sob again before she started to get up and turn to him.

“Ash...we have to get out of-”

The flashlight shone on her abnormally pale, almost cerulean skin, with half a face full of blood and her mouth chewing something before swallowing.

Her crimson eyes glowed in the darkness and dark veins stretched across her half disfigured face.

“Le... on…”

Her voice was a chilling mix between a croak and a sob. Her brow was furrowed in pain and his abnormal fangs protruded from her scarlet lips.

Then he cried blood.

“Kill...me.” she moaned.

His whole body and the gun trembled in his hand.

She took a step toward him, staggering as if her body had forgotten how to walk.

“No...no... not you....”

She shuffled limply toward him, crying in red tears and sobbing as if breathing brought her pain.

“Kill... me…” she repeated desperately in an almost unintelligible gurgle.

He stepped back with the gun, hesitant, cold sweat pouring down the back of his neck and his sanity hanging by a thread.

“ No…”

She cried raising her hands, now claws, towards him.

“Kill me…”

He couldn't breathe.

His lungs were burning.

He couldn't blink.

His muscles ached.

His hand was shaking. The gun was shaking.

Come on.

Shoot.

That's what she's asking for. A quick death. Come on. COME ON.

His heart broke along with the brink of his madness.

He lowered the gun.

“I can't.”

Those once-golden eyes flickered like glowing embers, red as blood. From her throat emerged a growl that no longer resembled any human sound, as dark veins engulfed her soft skin.

“I'm... sorry..." he sobbed, unable to pull the trigger.

She cried blood.

She screamed his name.

And lunged at him.

***

He screamed getting up suddenly on the bed. He felt something touch his shoulder and his reflexes were quicker than his reasoning, throwing his hand out to grab whatever it was that had touched him.

He heard a muffled gasp.

“ Leon…”

He blinked with bated breath and sweat soaking his clothes. His pupils took a few seconds to get used to the dim light of a cell phone and he stared at what he was still holding tightly.

The blood left her heart when he saw his hand clenched around Ashley's throat. She held his wrist tightly and her golden eyes met his blue ones.

“It's me, Leon.” She whispered watching her partner's dilated pupils.

The images still flickered in her mind, but she felt everything falling apart.

He released his grip and clutched Ashley's face with both hands, looking down at her in terror.

She could feel the panic in his hands, in his quivering lips and his wild eyes.

She'd never seen him like this, so scared... just... coming to her that one time, years ago, when he told her about his murdered family after a nightmare.

But this was... different.

Leon's whole body was shaking. He gripped her face so tightly he couldn't move his neck.

It hurt to see him so vulnerable, so terrified, so... broken.

Ashley reached up and caressed his wrists.

“You were calling me in your sleep.” she whispered to him in the dark. - you weren't waking up, you couldn't hear me, you didn't-

Leon brought his face close and rested his forehead against hers, shutting her up.

Ashley looked at him with pain and concern, reaching out a hand to touch his jaw.

“Do you want to talk?”

He took several seconds to respond, taking his time to separate reality from his recent nightmare. He smelled her soft scent, clean and pleasant. He tangled his trembling fingers in her straight hair, soft and without any dirt in it. The iron smell gradually faded as her breathing returned to a more normal rhythm.

“No." his voice was almost aphonic, hoarse from sleep and broken by the scream upon awakening.

Ashley shivered at the shudder it gave her and pulled her face a little closer until their noses were touching. She brushed the tip of Leon's with hers from side to side, gently and calmly, slowly bringing him back to earth.

“I'm here…” she whispered keeping the caresses of her nose on his.

“Don't leave…”

She half-opened her eyes at those words and brought her hands to his hair.

“I won't.”

They didn't know how long they stayed in that position, or when they started to move. Ashley pulled his soaked shirt off and before she knew it she was in Leon's arms.

He laid her gently on the bed with him, not letting go at any point, as if he needed her constant touch to keep him sane.

They said nothing. They didn't utter a sound.

Leon just hugged her against his chest with fervor, almost terror. She wrapped him around her waist gently, listening to the violent throbbing in his chest.

This time the nightmares had returned to him and she felt curious enough to ask, but...he had told her he didn't want to talk, so she wouldn't.

Ashley stroked Leon's broad bare back with her fingertips, with great gentleness and affection.

Leon let those caresses soothe him little by little, clearing his tormented mind.

Everything had gotten mixed up in his head, the past and the present had played with his senses, making him believe that he was really there, that he was still locked up in that cursed city.

Only to then be reminded of what might have happened, of what Ashley might have become years ago or... No, he didn't want to think about it, not now.

“I was in Raccoon City.” He mumbled against her hair, unable to hold back his words. He didn't want to talk anymore, didn't want her to ask him and have to reminisce about the dream.

“You're home now, with me. You're safe.”

She didn't ask him. She just spoke softly to him, like in quarantine.

He closed his eyes, let her words rock him, being the only person who had ever seen him in such a... weak and vulnerable state.

And not once did she say anything to him.

She just listened and soothed him.

“I'm home…” he repeated with her, slowly falling back into sleep from exhaustion and tension.

They both caressed each other in silence. For a moment, returning to those dark nights in hell, where the other's body kept them warm, where the other's voice made them understand that they were alive and together.

They went back there, to those endless minutes that they managed to rest and cling to each other to keep going.

To be able to not lose in the face of madness.

[fictional-love-is-my-life]

Since Easter is close can I get bay bee, hotrod, Hound, and Dino react to their human friend putting a bunch of confetti eggs in their car mode while they were in recharge ( sleep mode) 🎊 but they accidentally put one real egg in the mix by accident 😳. So they don't know where it is in their car mode, so when they transform, they might get yoked. 🥚🍳

Happy Easter!!!

Bumblebee:

Bee will just transform. He's a pretty quick riser that with transform as soon as he is awake, so his friend doesn't have time to warn him.

He is very surprised when a collection of eggs explodes, covering him with confetti and some very sticky, slimy egg yolk. He complains, but he also finds it a little clever.

He accepts his friend's apology about the real egg. Bee will then wipe his servo over himself, getting as much yolk and glitter as he can, and then he'll wipe it all over his friend so they match. Bee also plans on getting his friend back somehow, perhaps by dropping some eggs on them when they least expect it.

Hot Rod:

His friend was nice enough to warn him before he transformed. Which he refused to do until his friend found the egg. He doesn't care how long it takes, he makes his friend remove all of the eggs real and confetti.

He also asks them to never put items like that inside him ever again. He would like to keep his interior clean. He accepts that it was an accident that they put a real one in. But he still isn't happy they wanted to put confetti eggs in his alt form.

After this, he starts sleeping somewhere more private where he can't be found.

Hound:

He just transforms. His thinking is he'll find it one way or another. Either he'll transform and it will roll out, or it will get squished and he'll just get it cleaned.

His friend will be the one to clean him up, as they made the mess. And as payback, he gets to break an egg on their head.

It's a bit unpleasant, but he understands his friend just wanting to have some fun. He also knows it was an accident and accepts their apology.

Dino:

He notices something different in the way his friend is acting when he wakes, and the way his inside feels slightly heavier. He doesn't transform immediately and gets his friend to confess. He then transforms very carefully and skillfully, the eggs rolling out and dropping to the floor as he does. Once fully transformed he was left clean, and the eggs were cracked on the floor.

He tells his friend off, saying they shouldn't mess with him when he is in recharge, and that he has no interest in taking part in human traditions or pranks.

He wants no part of 'Easter' and suggests they keep eggs far away from him.