#or was it during their wild ass road trip

[dovithedarklord]

Age of Monsters - Chapter Thirteen

Pairing: OFC x Simon "Ghost" Riley, OFC x König

Tags: Slow Burn, Slow Build, Enemies to Lovers, Alternate Universe, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, POV First Person, Not Beta Read, Medical Inaccuracies, Military Inaccuracies, AFAB OC

Trigger Warning: The story will contain violance, blood and smut in detail. Please, keep that in mind!

⚠️MDNI⚠️

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Author's Note

The small group goes on a trip and finds something completely different from what they expected.

Hello!

I'm back with Chapter 13! Now I have a couple of Trigger Warnings: Death, corpses (and their detailed description), blood, gore, and violence.

Have fun! :D

I.M.L. – Infected Mammal Lifeform I.H.L. – Infected Humanoid Lifeform

if you're interested you can find the story on AO3: Chapter Thirteen

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The wild, overgrown abundance of the forest glides by like blurred spots next to the car, and although I haven't had a positive experience with nature until now, for once it's not the potential danger behind the trees and bushes that occupies my mind the most. The wind blows in my face through the rolled-down window, and as the characteristic smell of wet plants fills my nose, the apparent calmness of the situation lulls me into a false sense of security. The orange zone is a bag full of risks in itself, but Alejandro's predictions seem to have come true so far, because not a single mutant bastard has attempted to divert our small team, which is moving unstoppably towards its destination. But the deeper we venture on the broken concrete road into the heart of the wilderness, the more convinced I am that this eerie peace and uneventfulness will eventually backfire. And it's true that I was always cautious, and I believed that it was better to be paranoid than to get my ass kicked, but the sinister suspicion that had nestled itself deep inside of me is much more than that. Because it makes me feel like we're heading toward certain chaos, even though our plan seems bulletproof and ridiculously simple. I've already seen how life can wreck a detailed, masterful concept, and I can't get rid of the thought that fucking karma would love to show me again what tricks it can do if it wants to surprise me.

And it seems that I'm not the only one who racks their brains on this ominous intuition, because my two companions traveling with me exude everything other than casual calmness. From the rear-view mirror of the car, I can clearly see the unflinching expression on MacTavish's face, and only the line of his jaw tensing for a moment tells me that he would like to get right into the thick of it and show off his unique interrogation techniques. And although Riley, sharing the back seat with me, has assumed his usual steely confidence, his dark eyes scan every square centimeter of the landscape that appears through the windshield with such intensity, as if he would expect something absolutely terrible to appear in every second. His fear is well-founded, because we could easily come into close physical contact with a mutant here, but I suspect he isn't distressed by the forest and the beasts hidden in it, but rather by the research institute resting on the mountainside. And probably the concerns I expressed during our little moment on the roof last night also helped him to become so tense now. I should be happy that my opinion has such a big influence on him, now that we have finally overcome the differences between the two of us, if possible permanently, but his grim aura only gives my nerves one more reason to strain towards snapping.

"Five minutes and we'll reach the gate." Alejandro's voice filters through the radio and I automatically turn my gaze to the vehicle in front of us, where he and his faithful right-hand man are travelling, leading the way through the maze of nature like the real hosts they are. He nobly undertook this task without allowing any objections, and although I originally had no desire to argue with him being our tour guide, but in the last hour that we have spent here in the jungle  behind god's back, I already know that we wouldn't have had a chance to reach our goal in any other line-up. Because even though the road, which has been damaged over the years and is full of potholes, indeed leads somewhere, it splits into side roads in such a confusing way that it is quite amazing. And this, as well as the fact that the environment exudes a progressively unfriendly atmosphere with each passing meter, only confirms the fact that Alviar is truly stirring up the kind of shit, that needs a dozen life-threatening and cunning diversions to cover its smell.

My two companions only acknowledge the information with a wordless nod, our driver is the one who mumbles a quick "Copy" and then fixes his eyes on our battered path with unbroken attention. And the fact that MacTavish, who is always up for a clever comment, is also silenced by the operation before us, could even be disturbing, if the seriousness that possessed him wouldn't be fully justified. Perhaps the rather complicated chain of developments and the promise of an increasingly worse outcome has entered into the mind of a man as well, therefore it's not surprising that he is buzzing with tense energy ready to jump into action, so that he can finally relieve the helpless tension that has accumulated in him until now. This pressure has been building up in him since our nice adventure in the city, and I have a feeling that he won't try to moderate his temper if he has even the smallest chance to unleash it on the modest person of the doc. And that bastard will undoubtedly deserve it if even one of my hypotheses is confirmed.

Suddenly, the car in front of us begins to slow down, and as we adjust to this, we reduce our already cautious speed, and I raise my curious eyes towards the gate slowly emerging through the windshield. And the closer we get, the clearer it becomes that the doc didn't leave the guarding of his threshold to chance, because although the wild greenery skillfully hides the line of the several-meter-high fence stretching between the trees, it would be impossible not to notice the behemoth made of solid metal that rises towards the sky at the end of the worn road. Although a venturous mutant would have no problem climbing over it based on its height alone, even though the whole shebang seems to be at least five meters high, the barbed wire on top of the monstrosity would certainly discourage the hungry beasts from being nosy. And when our vehiches halts at the end of our nice little journey, my nose is hit by the characteristic burnt metallic smell, which makes it quite obvious that my colleague really wanted to show off his sophistication with the first line of his defense, and he made sure to give a shocking experience to those who stray too close to the barrier infused with high-voltage that disappears between the trees. So fucking sly.

The movement coming from the vehicle in front of us disturbs me from my observations, and only a hand appears from behind the rolled-down window to firmly hold up the hologram of the verification document emerging from the communicator towards the camera cleverly hidden on the top of the gate. However, it seems that there may have been an error in the calculation, because when after a few minutes there is no reaction to the introduction, the car door bursts open with angry vehemence, and Alejandro jumps out, stomping closer with visible irritation to signal with his whole being that an important visitor has ventured to the doorstep of this godforsaken hole. He waves his hand towards the wretched camera with growing annoyence, but despite all his efforts and fervor, the gate remains closed with immovable calm, which makes my confusion grow stronger with ever-increasing enthusiasm. It's one thing that the doctor doesn't want to have unexpected and especially unwanted guests, but he must also know that if he doesn't work together with us, my Hunter friends have a couple of brutal ideas on how to convince him to be more cooperative. Not to mention that the head of an institution must be familiar with the intricate maze of the current regulations, especially if he wants to avoid them, so he must also know that if he doesn't let in our small team that came here because of the violation of said rules, then the law and fate will catch up with such force that he will never have a chance to get himself out from that sea of shit.

"What's the problem?" The masked Hunter sitting next to me finally gets bored with the wait, and calls out through the rolled-down window to the man who is slowly engaging in an elaborate pantomime show. And it's enough for me to take a quick glance at Riley to assess how every fiber of his being fills with the first wave of impatient temper, and how his body moves forward, like a big cat who at this very moment has lost its patience with its naughty little prey that constantly slips away. And there is no doubt that he also starts to lose his cool at the finishline, when in addition to all the infuriating details of the events so far, the unsuspecting fool now wants to stretch his self-restraint to infinity.

"Something is not right! The guards should've been here by now!" Comes the irritated reply from the unit's leader, and as he turns back, every single wrinkle of the ire on his face becomes visible. Based on the deep furrows gathering on his forehead, it becomes completely clear that although he harbors hostile feelings towards Alviar, and he is sure that the asshole wants to block our entry, he also knows that the doc is not so stupid as to oppose him so openly. Because by doing so, the good doctor would risk a much greater retort, and then he would have to say goodbye to his peaceful solitude, which he had been enjoying until now in the soft lap of undisturbed nature.

It seems that Riley doesn't need any more motivation to take action, because without any further explanation, he opens the door and gets out of our little vehicle to walk closer to his comrade with heavy steps. Every cell of his tall frame fills with the pulsation of his restrained fury, which inevitably makes my stomach flutter with excitement, for there is something unbelievably compelling about the way he charges forward with the unstoppable determination of a tank. He stops for just a moment next to Alejandro, who, although I can't hear the fierce words coming out of his mouth, I know that he is explaining in, presumably very colorful language, why this unfortunate turn of events is bad news for us. And this gives the masked Hunter enough reason to take the solution of the problem into his own hands, and I lean forward to follow what kind of tactics the man chooses to eliminate this obstacle that cannot be called small even the slightest.

When he arrives in front of the metal monstrosity, which towers above him with unbroken dignity, he lets his weapon attached to its sling fall beside him, and raises his hand in the air with such noble simplicity, as if he wasn't about to slam down on a solid steel door. When one of his huge fists strikes, the metal shakes wildly from the impact, and the peace of the forest is disturbed by a thunderous crash, causing the birds resting on the trees to fly out of the foliage in alarm. And although the gate doesn't yield from this terrible force, the deep indentation created at the contact of the two-winged entrance already provides enough grip for Riley's hands to worm their way into the gap. A shudder runs along my spine reflexively, causing the little hairs to rise up, and suddenly I don't feel like fighting the feeling that overwhelms me, when I realize that he is trying to pull open the walls of the gate with his bare hands. And my mind tries to scold my body, since in the midst of a vital mission it's not the time for these dubious feelings to appear, but I can't tear my eyes away from the sight. He grounds his booted legs to exert as much force as possible, and despite the looseness of his uniform, I can see how the material strains by the work of the bulging muscles on his arms and back, and goosebumps prickle on every inch of my body, because I can almost feel the angry vibrations of his power on my skin. With a deafening screech, the metal surrenders to the Hunter's attack, and as the heavy walls slowly but surely move, the empty concrete road becomes visible. And just as Riley forces a passage wide enough for a person to pass through, he steps away and turns back to us, looking pleased with his work.

"It's open now." He announces to our small group, raising his deep voice, and I can see even from a distance, as the red glow in his eyes slowly fades, when he once again hides all the destructive power of his little Hunter abilities. Based on his makeshift weapon made from a traffic sign in the previous mission, I had no doubt that he could enhance his physical strength when he activates his skills, but this is a feat I didn't know a human could do, no matter how superhuman they are. And the fact that it awakened that fucking warm tremble in me is another proof that my sanity has completely gone.

"Steamin’ Jesus..." MacTavish's utters his rather apt reaction, and the excitement mixed with admiration creeping into his voice tells me that even though it's not the first time he's seen his partner use similar effective methods, he's still sufficiently impressed by the masked man's wide repertoire of pure power. And although I share his amazement, I quickly realize that Riley has even more self-control than I thought, because, under the influence of my little provocations, he could have messed me up even worse than I had originally assumed. And the knowledge that up until now he has held the reins of his aggression with a steady hand whenever I have directed my sly little words at him or tried to shake him up with my cunning tactics, and I'm still alive, for some reason fills me with sick joy. Now I'm pretty sure I'm not right in the head.

It seems that everyone was enchanted for a moment by the show the masked man unexpectedly put on, because it takes a few stunned seconds before Alejandro at least pulls himself together, and when he does, only a broad, proud grin spreads across his face. It's clear that he also liked this impromptu performance, and this gives him the impetus to return to the mission and wave to his men, coaxing them out of the cars in Spanish. This is the point where MacTavish also decides that he has spent just enough time in our vehicle, and opens the door of the car to jump out of it with such enthusiasm, as if someone had shown a spring up in his ass.

"Come on, lassie, let's not make our guests wait!" He turns back to me, gesturing towards the worn gate, giving a clear signal that after the impressive entrance, it's time to surprise the doc with our pleasant company, if he tried to avoid it so enthusiastically. The glint that settles in the man's blue eyes promises violence, and the wicked curve of his mouth lets me know that my Scottish friend, who has been on pins and needles since the beginning of our journey, has already formulated at least dozens of ideas in his head to welcome Alviar properly. And there is no doubt that each of his ideas is full of delicacies, each more painful than the other, with which he can make my unknown colleague sing a song where the doc will spill even his mother's name just to end the fun. And who am I to deprive him of the fun?

With a quiet, amused sigh, I pull myself together, so that I, too, can peel myself out of the comfortable tranquility of the back seat and drag my pretty little ass out into the humid embrace of the forest. And the Hunter with the mohawk, after checking that I'm ready for the excitement ahead of us, sets off with urgent steps towards the damaged gate, driven by his renewed vigor, and I follow him with similar enthusiasm, so that we can gallop towards the small group in deep discussion.

And as soon as we get closer, I have the opportunity to admire the communicator, which is still resting happily in Alejandro's hand, on which, instead of the faint blue hologram of his ID, something completely different is flashing with a bright yellow color. I don't need to know Spanish to recognize from the aggressively flashing text that we've managed to generate a neat little warning with our not-so-gentle knock. And based on this, it’s easy to assess that the institution's security system automatically signals the colony and thus probably the liquidation unit as well, if something or someone is reckless enough to venture in without authorization. Of course, this begs the question, if Alviar surrounds himself with such a line of defense to keep us out, shouldn't there be someone here to prevent us from continuing our little incursion?

"What's the matter?" MacTavish inquires, and he directs his eyes to the message flashing with increasing enthusiasm in the hands of the leader of the unit, where on the map a vivid red circle marks with definite outlines the exact location of the intrusion into the facility. And from the way the Scottish Hunter carefully peeks through the opened gap and scans the suspicious immobility waiting for us on the other side, it becomes quite obvious that I'm not the only one who finds the absence of the reception committee unusual.

"The security system is still active because we received the alarm about the intrusion." Rodolfo points to the hologram, and the deep furrows between his eyebrows reveal that there is no scenario in which this could be considered a good or lucky development. Because it might even make our job easier if we don't have to immediately fight with a couple of soldiers armed to the chin in order to get into the hospitable confines of the establishment, but silence and desolation are never a good sign if you expect to be welcomed. And we anticipated unfriendliness at least, if not outright resistance, but the fact that we are now greeted by none other but the big, stinking pile of nothing is more than strange. It's Alejandro who has enough of this hesitancy and, after pressing a few buttons, he makes the notification disappear to sink his communicator back into the deep recesses of his pocket, overcoming the unusual turn of events with the ease of a true leader, only to raise his dark eyes meaningfully at our small group and return to the execution of the mission, taking his weapon in his hand.

"We continue on foot! Don't let your guard down, we can expect that bastard to be up to something!" Alejandro gives out his orders and admonitions, and there is an undisguised hostility and anger in his tone, which leads me to conclude that, based on the events of the last few minutes, he has a strong suspicion that this won't be the only obstacle and interesting thing that we will encounter thanks to the doc. "After me!" He shouts, then pushes himself through the gap in the gate with purposeful movements, being the first to take on the noble task of checking out what awaits us on the other side. And when he has squeezed through, he points his weapon forward with lightning speed so that he can pump a bullet into anyone who feels like ambushing him. But, when the brave volunteer doesn't show up and nothing happens, he lowers the assault rifle and lets us know with just a wave that we are safe to proceed, and this gives enough motivation for his men to move behind each other in single file to follow their leader through the gaping crevice.

When the last soldier makes his way through the opening forced into the gate, my Scottish friend steps to the side, maintaining the principle of "ladies first", and with outstretched arms offers me the opportunity to be the first of our little trio to step onto the riddle-filled grounds of the facility. And I only raise one of my eyebrows and fix my eyes on the man, wondering when had he become such a gentleman, but finally accepting his sudden chivalry, I walk past him to slide through our entrance. When I cross the threshold, I'm greeted only by the emptiness, which for some reason seems even more peculiar now that I have the opportunity to take a closer look at the place. And as I divert my bright eyes, I see a small cabin resting peacefully next to the gate, where our cars waiting on the broken road greet me through a very well-functioning screen, and I immediately feel that something is very wrong. There is a single plastic bottle on the table, its wall thickly painted by the vapor of the water inside it, and I suspect that it must have been there for a long time if its contents could turn opalescent. That bottle must have been sitting in the stuffy booth for at least days, not an hour or two, to look like this. And I highly doubt that it's lying there forgotten only because of the carelessness of its owner.

But soon I'm jolted out of my contemplation, because I hear the two remaining Hunters arrive behind me, and as I break away from the strange view, I turn back and catch Riley, who, after MacTavish, is the last to press himself through the crack made by his busy hands. When he straightens up upon arrival, he checks the landscape shrouded in immobility around us with the momentum of his routine, to his eyes to then stop on the same small hole, the mystery of which I analyzed so enthusiastically not long ago. Despite the mask, it's easy to recognize the suspicious expression that appears on his face, although I only see thin but grim lines around the skin covered in black paint, as his eyes slowly narrow when he takes in the details of the scene left behind in a haste. And the fact that it also fills him with a sufficient amount of foreboding to dwell on it, only reinforces the whispering of the ominous voices in my head, warning that it's better to be careful, because this could be something other than just the doc trying to hide his ass.

"Let's go! The building is not far!" Alejandro calls out suddenly, drawing everyone's undivided attention to him again, motioning towards the road, which is hidden from prying eyes by lush green plants swaying lazily in the wind, as it meanders peacefully into the unknown. And in other cases, this sight could even be idyllic, but now it only awakens the unease that grows stronger in my skull with every passing minute. Because there is nothing normal in the fact that such a mysterious institution doesn't react to the intrusion of the official bodies into their harmonious little living space, which they have tried to protect with all their slyness until now. And I catch the worried furrows frozen on our leader's forehead and the dour downward curve of his mouth just in time, before he sets off followed by his loyal companion and his men, but even this fleeting moment is enough for me to deduce from his expression that we are walking into a party that I'm not sure we are prepared for.

"Let's not fall behind." Riley steps next to me, and although there is nothing in his voice apart from the usual deep hoarseness and his confidence, my keen senses quickly recognize the tension pulsing from him. It's no wonder that his mood is slowly becoming more and more gloomy, because anyone with a little sense knows how abnormal the suspicious smoothness of the mission so far is. But this is probably not the first time the masked man has encountered a mystery like this, because although he doesn't lose his caution, he quickly steels himself, and with only one last glance at me, he rushes forward with his friend close at his heels, so that they, too, could start sneaking carefully behind Alejandro's small team, picking up the pace dictated by the leading Hunter with the experience of the professionals. And I hesitate for just a moment to take one last peek at the cubicle frozen in unsettling silence, to then turn my back on the stillness that prevails in it, to catch up with my little buddies who are already moving forward with hasty steps. After all, no matter how fast the questions multiply in my brain, I won't find the answers here.

As soon as I reach them I fall in line with them, and for a minute I wonder what this extra precaution is for. Unquestionably, the doc doesn't like us, but I doubt he'd be so foolish as to try to attack four Hunters and six battle-hardened soldiers in the back. Not only because the sharp senses of the Hunters would recognize the danger lurking before they have the opportunity to strike, but also because it would strengthen our assumptions about his illegal activities more than any words could. After all, someone who has nothing to hide doesn't need to aggressively defend said nothing. But as my gaze wanders, taking in all the hidden little parts of the road ahead, I quickly understand that this thoughtfulness is not for Alviar's slyness. Much more to the bleak silence that follows us the deeper we drift into the recesses of the institute's territory. It's as if the gate we fought our way through was meant to keep out not only the wild beasts hiding in the wilderness, but to restrain the heavy atmosphere that settles here, which descends on us like a suffocating blanket. Although everything seems peaceful, not a single sound filters through except for the crunch of the debris drifting under our boots and the soft rustle of our clothes, and the whole thing feel as if we have entered into a fucking ghost town. An actively functioning institution buzzing with people shouldn't be so terribly quiet, especially when the boss here has tried so hard to keep visitors away.

And with every meter I walk, the grip of restlessness inside me grows harsher, causing my limbs to fill with tension, as if I should expect an ambush from behind every blade of grass or bush swaying comfortably in the warm breeze. The fact that instead we are surrounded by the same maddeningly lifeless calm stretches the sharpened attention of my nerves even more. It seems that the two Hunters marching in front of me are not much happier with the ease with which the mission has been progressing so far, because I only have to observe the muscles dancing on my Scottish friend's forearm, as he tightens his grip on the hilt of his weapon, or to take in the stiff line of the masked man's broad back to know, that I'm not the only one who is filled with concerns by the absence of the warm welcome we had anticipated. But when MacTavish, who has been diligently observing every square centimeter of the road, turns his head toward the uphill curve of our little path with the speed of a bloodhound that has caught a scent, I feel the nervous tug of foreboding in my stomach. Because even though I can only take a look at the man's profile as he looks meaningfully at Riley, who is walking in front of him, but from the way he pulls his mouth into a disgusted frown I quickly understand, that his super senses must have detected some unusual shit from the end of the footpath leading to our destination.

"Do ya feel it too, Ghost?" The Scottish Hunter mutters grimly, and there is no trace of the fun and relaxation that he managed to bring here with him until now. He doesn't explain what he found with the help of his sharpened perception, but the troubled arch of his furrowed brows is enough evidence that it may have something to do with our disturbingly smooth break-in.

"Yeah." The masked man answers curtly, and there is something inscrutable in his voice, which only crowns the dark look with which he stares ahead, as if he would already know something that no one else has figured out yet. As my gaze wanders to our two tour guides who are walking far ahead, I can see from the unsettled look they share that they also noticed the exciting little detail that made the aura of the two Hunters so terribly sinister. And even though my sharp little eyes run over the endless green blanket of vegetation stretching around us, the same tense peace greets me, but the voice in my brain assures me that I don't need to worry, and soon I too can experience what they managed to pick up on so quickly.

And although they don't share what they found so early on with the small team, the gloom emanating from the Hunters certainly lays the foundation for the watchful tension that eats itself into everyone's consciousness with the vileness of an infectious disease. And suddenly the whole group becomes a bundle of nerves, and perhaps with even more vigilance than before, they continue their troop along the wretched path, broken by the roots. The next few minutes pass with such torturous slowness, as if we had left the walls of the gate leading to the outside world at least a thousand years ago. When we finally reach the end of our trail, the building of the rather imposing research institution is revealed, which stands out at the end of the neglected courtyard with such unusual prominence, as if its creator had intended to attract attention rather than to hide from it. One would think that a private institution of this level would be able to afford to have someone keep it in order, but the area that extends to the building gives the impression that this noble task hasn't been fulfilled by anyone for a while now. And the hurriedly parked car resting untouched in the middle of everything doesn't help either. Based on its position, my guess is that whoever forgot this vehicle here, didn't intend to stay for more than a few minutes. But judging by the undisturbed layer of leaves sitting thickly on the top of the car, and the absence of any kind of wheel tracks, I can rightly conclude that the owner didn't leave the machine here for a short time, but it was probably left behind just long enough to raise a series of suspicious questions in my brain.

But this strangeness doesn't scare away the little squad, they wade forward with unceasing enthusiasm through the blanket of branches and leaves that cover the ground, and when I diligently follow them and sneak closer, then out of nowhere, like an unexpected surprise, a strange stomach-turning smell creeps into my nose, and I suddenly understand that there may be a serious reason why no one was bothered by the abandoned car. Because although I have never felt a stench like this in whole my life, every single one of my muscles is filled with sinister energy, and the instincts in my subconscious immediately convey the message to me that this can only belong to a source that I should better stay away from. And although a repulsed grimace swims to my face, still, like a puppet being pulled on a string, my legs carry me through the desolate field, and the crunch of sun-dried plants under the soles of my shoes reaches my ears as a dull noise, as I follow Riley striding with deliberate steps in front of me, who must have felt this exact delicacy together with his Scottish bosom friend before. The closer we get, the stronger the smell becomes, as if the building were spreading like a festering wound in the middle of the undisturbed calm, just waiting for someone to unravel its mystery. And morbid curiosity awakens in me, as I fix my eyes on the double-winged metal door leading inside, because although the warning voice in my skull tries to hold me back with tooth and nail from venturing too close, the unanswered riddles prove to be a much greater temptation.

However, with Alejandro in the lead, the group suddenly stops, as if trying to muster up the strength to finally cross the threshold of the godforsaken structure. And for some reason, I get the feeling that whatever is behind the elegantly crafted entrance, it must be serious, if the unit leader must find his composure to face it. If I take into consideration the multitude of ominous signs that have accumulated so far, which we have encountered in every step we took in the short journey that led us up here, then I realize that the man's sour mood could be quite well-founded. And based on my experience so far, my intuitions are rarely wrong.

"We're going in. On me." Alejandro gives out his instructions, and even though I haven't known him for a long time, yet in the the to-the-point command, I feel the unspoken harsh edge with which he prepares his men for the worst. And when he wraps one of his gloved hands on the metal bar running along the door and opens it with a decisive movement, all the troubled wrinkles and grim looks, as well as the strange, deserted emptiness that has accompanied our journey until now, gain meaning. Because, as soon as the golden light of the sun penetrates the darkness inside, I only catch the outline of the motionless bodies spread out in the large lobby for a minute, and my brain can immediately place what it was that held back the people from showing us their hospitality.

But I don't have much time to admire the interior of the institute wallowed up by darkness, because the force of the stench, which I had only mildly felt before, reaches me in a big wave, as it fills every corner of my nose. My stomach instinctively twists and shoves its rumbling contents up my throat as the repulsive smell of rotting flesh fills every single one of my senses like an inescapable slithery parasite. And as the nausea convulses my insides, I stagger in confusion, looking for support, because I feel my mouth suddenly fill with saliva with dangerous quickness by the nauseatingly sweet aroma. When my trembling hand finds the rough surface of the wall, and I finally don't have to fear that I will end the day sprawled on the ground from the dizziness entering my head, even before we could reach its peak, then my palm almost painfully clings to my mouth to try to hold back the stomach acid, that is slowly gnawing up my esophagus, before it can spill out of me. And I feel the tears start to sting my eyes when I gag violently, and I need every single nerve to convince myself not to give in to the stimulus that twists my stomach mercilessly.

Even my fast little body needs a few nerve-wracking minutes before I manage to force the contents of my upset stomach back into place while slowly breathing through my nose, and the vehemence of the onslaught of the penetrating smell of corpses eases a little. I'm suddenly disturbed from my deep concentration by a huge hand, which settles on the back of my neck, emerging from my shirt, with surprising tenderness, squeezing it gently, thus tearing me out of the exhausting work of banishing my sickness. And even despite the nausea terrorizing my body, I have the strength to be surprised, because the sight of Riley bending over me and pulling me into the protective cover of his burly figure, as if he wanted to spare my dignity, which was quite enthusiastically triggered by the surprise of my first authentic encounter with the reek of rotting remains. But perhaps what is even more unexpected is the scarf offered to me, which rests in his gloved hand with such self-evident casualness, as if this weren't the first time he had surprised me with such a selfless gesture.

"Wrap it around your face." He suggests, and although based on the hoarse edge hidden in his accent, his message sounds more like an instruction, but as my gaze intertwines with his, the restrained soft glint in the dark eyes seems quite real, with which he slowly searches through every pitiful part of my person clinging to the wall. And I get the feeling from this small thoughtfulness, which is completely foreign to him, that the peaceful little moment we spent last night on the roof truly helped him to finally soften up to me. But before I could start thinking about this at the most inconvenient time, I accept the material offered without any arguments or questions instead, to gather my composure and straighten myself up. As the comforting warmth of his palm leaves my neck, for a moment the feeling of absence hits me with a painful force, but I follow his advice and wrap my face up to the middle of my nose in the thick textile before my consciousness has time to process how ridiculously good the weight of his touch felt on my goosebump-flecked skin.

"Thank you." I squeeze the words out of myself, and I need all my will to bring determination back into my voice. Because even though at the first stray inhale, that hideous stench finally disappears from my nose, it's replaced by the man's characteristic scent, and this helps drive the nausea aways from my stomach with completely unreasonable speed, so that something entirely different moves in its place. And it's almost ridiculous how quickly my body manages to calm down from the sickness that has been tearing at me until now, as Riley's essence snakes into every cell of my being, in which I discover traces of the bitter smoke of tobacco and the spicy, salty aroma of his skin.

When he sees that I've managed to regain my presence again, and that the ash-gray color of my face has probably become several shades healthier, he gives me one last fleeting glance and wordlessly joins MacTavis, who is waiting in front of the entrance. And on the face of my Scottish friend, the curve of his lips pressed together with worry softens, as soon as he realizes that I will no longer pass out from the phenomenally nice gift that welcomed us in this miserable shithole. And my soul is completely warmed by the way, despite the not-so-bright developments so far, an encouraging half-smile appears on his stubble-framed mouth, before he disappears with his masked friend behind the open metal door, leaving me alone a little longer in my solitude. And after I finally regained control over my body, I realize that several questions that had tormented us so enthusiastically until now found a fairly simple answer. After all, why would the reception committee have rushed to meet us if every single one of its members was dead?

And from this, the confidence finds its way back into my limbs, and my feet guide me with a sense of purpose to the mouth of the building stinking of decay, and the demanding desire for knowledge igniting in my head helps to make my steps so urgent. I only hesitate for a minute, until I get used to the dull darkness that settles in after the blinding sunlight, and when my vision finally sharpens, I enter into the next scene of our investigation. My gaze glides over each and every piece of the unfolding murder, and as I cautiously wander in, the more details I manage to notice. Even though I have Riley's scarf over my face, even through the cloth the smell of death lingers in the dark foyer, which has soaked itself into every pore of the place as if the once luxurious room had turned into a gangrenous ulcer. Even before the chaos swept through here, the consequences of which we are now forced to tiptoe around, this could certainly have been a room imbued with professionalism, which would have impressed anyone who set eyes on it. Now, however, this decorative interior is disfigured by the decomposing bodies of the slain victims on the ground, around whom, mixed with dirt, the dry, dark brown stains of the liquids from their slaughtered flesh and decay have soaked into the floor's pale cream tiles. Only a female figure in a lab coat lying in the middle of the hall, dirty with coagulated blood, reveals that whoever broke in here didn't spare the unarmed researchers either. From the white of the documents spread around the remains of the woman's head, the small, torn pieces of flesh and bone fragments stand out unnaturally, bearing witness to the brutality with which the damn scums who wrecked this establishment were able to execute the staff who, even though were dealing with some illegal business, were perfectly defenseless.

"So that's why they kept quiet." Alejandro states glumily, muttering a Spanish swear word under his breath, fiercely scanning the walls, which in some places have been painted with abstract patterns by the dark drops of blood splattered on them, standing out from the pale blue plaster intended for comfort, like some grotesque frescoes. And the man's statement cleverly points out the now rather obvious reason, which can justify why Alviar and his employees turned away from their duties and the outside world in the last two weeks. There could have been a thousand and one reasons why the institution went into voluntary exile, but the fact that such a ruthless but rather simple explanation lies behind the events is not good news at all. In fact. It's downright disastrous. Because it means that whatever was hidden here was valuable enough that the senseless massacre of dozens of people was considered a fair price.

"From the condition of the corpses, their death may coincide with radio silence." Riley crouches down to one of the bodies covered in a dark uniform, around whose mouth opened to a silent scream, flies circle merrily, as if they had arrived at a real buffet reception. From the point of view of these bugs, this could be true, and based on the discovery of the masked Hunter, they have been enjoying this celebratory lunch spread with bloodshed for two weeks at least. And this complication that has arisen is the exact reason that makes it so dangerous for a private institution to stray far from the protective proximity of the colonies, because if such bad luck befalls the unsuspecting victims, the authorities will only be informed of the trouble when even its memory begins to fade.

"What the bloody hell happened here?" MacTavish asks the most important question, and his voice is filled with the hot edge of the raging fury inside him, and this is the poison that helps his facial muscles turn into a frown full of anger, and which echoes with a wild gleam in his slowly narrowing blue eyes. It's clear that although he wanted revenge on the doc for the adventure in which he got to watch his comrades being eaten alive by the wretched mutants, I don't think he had this kind of justice in his mind. And as he moves his gaze over the same female figure on whom I had previously lingered, his jaw clenches with such force that I can almost hear his teeth grind from afar.

"These are members of the security staff." Rodolfo points to another corpse wrapped in a black uniform with the barrel of his machine gun, whose ID card resting on its chest clearly testifies to the truth of the Hunter's claim. "But there are also researchers among the dead." He adds, gesturing with his hand towards one of the figures who once probably wore sterile clothes, whose body, frozen in an unnatural pose, had been mutilated beyond recognition by the dozens of bullets, which left gaping bloody holes on the battered textile. Whoever paid a friendly visit here didn't leave the success up to chance, did a fairly thorough job, and they didn't spare the ammo, if they could surely help the victims to the afterlife with it. The whole sad situation shows the kind of cruelty that only a real, calculating, and totally sadistic bastard can do. Because there was no need to kill these unsuspecting people in the midst of such merciless carnage, yet someone most certainly found pleasure in executing these mostly defenseless poor souls. And I only have to observe the direction of the corpses in which they are lying on the ground, with their backs staring up at the ceiling, and it becomes completely clear that most of them were killed during their desperate escape towards the exit. As if someone wanted to give them the false hope of survival, only to slaughter them a few hopeful meters before the finish line. And that's fucking cruel even for me.

"Someone has turned the place upside down bloody well. They made sure that no one was left who could spit out what had happened." My Scottish friend remarks darkly, and as his gaze continues to wander from victim to victim, the poison flowing from him in restrained waves becomes more and more menacing, which makes him look like a wild animal enraged to the extreme, just waiting to finally snap the neck of the one who provoked him. I suspect that this enthusiasm is shared by all the members of our small team, who stopped in the hall in shock, because the trash who did this, even with the greatest kindness, would deserve someone to make a seat cover from their flayed skin. I'm not a saint either, and I've caused a painful death for others, but even I'm not as psychopathic as to give someone such an inhumane and dishonorable end. Because these people were butchered like animals. For a purpose, no doubt, but mostly for fun. And it occurs to me again that this circumstance is another piece of evidence that points to the fact that there is some very disturbing connection between the dear doc and the I.H.L.s, which someone sniffed out much earlier than we did.

"Now it’s certain that Alviar was involved in something serious." I divert everyone's attention from the revealed horrors back to the original goal of our mission, and although the situation is becoming more and more complicated, it doesn't change the fact that we came here because of our new mutant friend. And current developments only slightly modify the questions to which we are looking for answers. Because now it's quite certain that the mystery of the mutant-riding I.H.L. comes from here, we just have to find out what could be so maddeningly interesting about it to make someone go through such a blood bath. "Whoever did this came for the same reason we did. We need to know what lured them here." I declare firmly, and as all eyes are fixed on me, I know from the seriousness hidden in them that everyone has come to this rather dire conclusion in light of the sad discoveries that awaited us. And I don't need to add the fact to my brief warning that whatever the perpetrators have found, they have a two-week head start on their side, and that's just enough for them to concoct and carry out the clever plan they stumbled here as a part of. Because this isn't the work of chance, someone wandered here for a good reason, and we have no idea why. We only know from the cruel reminders scattered around the hall that they are not afraid to resort to drastic solutions if it’s in their interest. Fuck.

But the heavy silence that settles over the group only lasts for a few seconds, and then it's Alejandro who takes control again, and his dark eyes sweep over the room with the thoroughness of a hawk searching for prey, before settling on the counter opposite the entrance. He seems to have found what he's been looking for, as he dashes across the chaos-filled stage and rushes to the small table that must be serving as a reception desk, as if he's stumbled upon some critical detail. When he arrives, he walks around the tasteful furniture with nimble steps, and then lifts the framed drawing resting on the wall with a few light movements. And when he lays the picture frame down on the surface of the polished wood, he only waves towards us with his hand, inviting us closer with a few quick Spanish words, so that we can admire together the work he snatched from the wall. And he doesn't even have to coax anyone to cooperate, because the soldiers scattered in different corners of the room set off without question at the command of their leader. My two companions break out from the further study of the traces of the massacre to rush closer, and I, following their example, carefully dodging the disintegrating remains stretching out on the ground, head towards the assembly. And when I stand between the Scottish man and his masked friend, I finally have a chance to look at the wonder that the other Hunter has discovered. And he got his hands on a really useful little thing, because behind the glass, the floor plan of the research institute unfolds with precise care, revealing all the exciting nooks and crannies hidden in the depths of the building.

"We're separating into groups up." Alejandro begins to outline his plan and points to a room which, based on the drawing, opens from the front hall and stretches to the entire length of the ground floor. And even though every classic horror movie that I watched secretly in the archives at school when I was a young teenager begins with this kind of trick, I don't panic now, because I have the right to assume that we will be in for a completely different kind of surprises than in those unique works of art. "Rudy and I check the security office to see if there are any traces left. The security system is still active, there must be something." The Hunter explains, and based on how his brows knot together, I know he's just hoping that they'll find something useful. Because, indeed, the security system didn't go kaput despite the chaos, but the rational little voice in my head warns that this could have been a very deliberate move on the part of the bastards who broke in. After all, after a bloodshed of such a caliber, there is no single-minded fool who wants to lead the righteous hands of the authorities to themself, and I highly doubt they forgot about the cameras that watch every corner of the building with prying eyes. It’s more likely that this inconvenience was circumvented by a sly trick.

"I check Alviar's office." MacTavish announces, tapping at the sizeable room on the first floor on the map, on which the precious name of the head of the institution is outlined in fine letters, announcing that the ridiculously large office has been placed in such a central position to serve his ego, even on this wretched paper. And I have a feeling that, as a poetic twist of fate, death probably caught him in that neat hole, and his deteriorating remains are now waiting to be found there. It's quite certain that they didn't let him live, because the one who came here didn't care about the doc's knowledge and influence, but the goods. And for that, it was probably much more beneficial if no one was left alive to hinder the process.

My bright eyes run inquisitively over the side-by-side sketches that reveal the floors of the building, and although all the inscriptions inform me in Spanish about the names of the structure's parts, I don't need to be a particular genius to recognize the heart of the research institute in a huge room that occupies an entire floor, well hidden from the world. Based on its size, it's also clear that they spared no expense when creating it, which wouldn't be a particularly unusual fact, but based on the increasingly complicated series of twists and turns so far, I can rightly conclude that it was some shady research that made it necessary to pack the basement full with tiny rooms, a gigantic laboratory, and that slightly suspicious chamber that isn't marked even on this ridiculously detailed map. It's as if the doctor didn't want to risk putting even the mildest-sounding name on it, just in case someone becomes involuntarily curious as to what they might have hidden there. Bingo, here we go.

"The central lab is in the basement. We might find there what we originally came for." I select the next destination, where the reason why we crossed the zones teeming with beasts and dragged ourselves all the way here can lie. And my thirst for knowledge is hungrily straining my consciousness, especially now that I know that we probably weren't the only ones who felt so terribly interested in what the doctor so enthusiastically hid from the world and curious eyes.

"We're goin’ to go down there." Riley declares firmly, clearly aiming at the two of us with this stray sentence, and I just turn to him curiously, as I tear my gaze away from the examination of the floor plan. And although I find it interesting that now he chooses my company instead of his bestie to hang out in the institution that has become a deserted haunted house, despite his emphasis that doesn't leave any room for arguing, I don't feel like rejecting his offer. Now I'm not afraid to admit even to myself that I'm much more glad that this rather dangerous man will follow me as my scary shadow, and hopefully protect me from what will most certainly lie in wait for us in the unknown. Although I doubt that bloodthirsty beasts would ambush us, one can never be too careful, and who would be better suited to effectively neutralize unexpected and quite life-threatening threats than him? And it's also dead certain that whatever awaits us down there, the Hunter will be the most dangerous thing I'll find myself in the same airspace with, in this cursed place turned into a graveyard.

"Be on alert." Alejandro gives us his last advice for the trip, moving his eyes meaningfully over the people gathered. And after everyone lets him know with a curt nod that they got the message, he pushes himself away from the counter without further hesitation, pats Rodolfo on the shoulder, and sets sail towards the showy door resting at the far end of the room, with some of the busy little soldiers behind him, who follow their leader towards new excitements like ducklings.

"Be careful, who knows what kind of boogeyman is down there!" MacTavish steps back, despite the suffocating atmosphere, trying to infuse us with some enthusiasm before we all head off toward our ominous destinations. But despite the tiny little half-smile on his face, the doubt in his eyes doesn't escape my attention, letting me know quite clearly that he feels anything but calm about our current action. Although he wears the mask of professionalism he has acquired over the years, he cannot hide from my searching eyes the grim tension that settles in his entire being, which makes his steps more hurried than necessary, as he turns his back on us and heads towards the glass door leading to the stairway. He understands as well that the disturbed state of the institution doesn't bode well, even if we find clues. Because even if we find answers, there will be some more important detail that someone else already got their vile hands on.

"Let's go." Riley gives the jump-start, and I take one last look at our map and nod in agreement, memorizing the small details that my brain calls my attention to check later. And when I also leave the place of our impromptu meeting at the counter, I take my gun from my belt and turn to the man, who, after making sure that I'm ready for our little adventure together, searches for the metal door leading to the basement and starts out towards it with firm steps. I quickly follow him, staying closely behind his tall figure, nobly letting him have the task of clearing the way in front of our pair. Fixing my eyes on his back, I almost instinctively pick up the pace with which he marches across the lobby, once again shrouded in stillness, as if my body would automatically switch to the cold sense of purpose that fills every fiber of his body as he leads us through the scattered sea of chaos and the dead. And the sudden harmony between us seems so natural that even my overworked brain doesn't stop to question why.

When we reach the entrance leading to our destination, the man only stops for a moment, just long enough to prepare for the attack, should a surprise await us on the other side. But as he pushes the metal in with one of his large palms, despite pointing the barrel of his rifle forward at lightning speed, nothing awaits us but the silent darkness, which calls us closer. This development doesn't surprise me, but it calls for a fair amount of caution, because the voices of suspicion lurking in my head tell me that although the quietness that greets us seems uninhabited and harmless, this feeling has already skillfully misled us upon our arrival.

"Stay behind me." The Hunter orders, looking down at me behind his back, but there is something quite soft hidden in his deep voice, which makes this small sentence far from seeming like an command, but more like a request with which he wants to ensure my physical safety. And with all my strength, I suppress the ferocious warmth in my stomach before it can bubble up unreasonably at the worst moment, because now we have to focus on the task, which, based on the man's wariness, could potentially hide more risks than the lifeless emptiness waiting for us behind the threshold with open arms shows.

With a quick nod, I signal that I have taken note of his brief wish, and as the red light in his eyes flares up, he wordlessly enters the dark room, and I remain obediently close to him. Accompanied by the dull light filtering in behind us, we venture inside, creeping with steady movements, and then after a few wandering meters, we find the steep stairs that, according to the floor plan, lead to the lab. The masked Hunter raises his weapon in front of him with unwavering enthusiasm and slowly moves to the steps covered in light tiles, scanning the pitch darkness in front of us with his smoldering eyes. Even I'm surprised by the unity with which we penetrate deeper and deeper into the narrow passageway leading underground, and the further we get down the stairs, the more the atmosphere around us turns into a sinister silence, where nothing else makes any noise but the soles of our boots creaking on the tiled surface. And I suspect that none of us becomes tense because of poor vision, because each of our clever little eyes quickly adapts to it in its own way. Rather, it's the steps leading to infinity that plant the first sparks of stress in my head, because after our welcome dotted with corpses, I don't expect anything good now either. And to an outside observer, it may be comical how two armed people stealthily sneak down a fucking staircase, but this uneventfulness cannot deceive the menacing foreboding that grips my stomach.

But as endless as it seemed, the steps suddenly run out, leading us to a short corridor, at the end of which another lonely door stands in our way. And as we stalk closer, it becomes clear that we are not the first to venture down here, because the control panel resting next to the entrance is destroyed beyond recognition, testifying that someone got the urge to sniff around down here before us. And this rightfully raises the unpleasant question of who and how could have found out that it's worth researching here. If the authorities of the colony didn't know what the doc was busying himself with, then it could be only an insider who became stupidly chatty, because the attack and the burglars' path seems too purposeful and organized for it to be just random looting. Someone let the cat out of the bag at the wrong time and in the wrong place, and the juicy info reached certain ears, whose owner wasn't afraid to get their hands dirty in order to get something valuable.

"They got ahead of us here as well." I state quietly, highlighting what has now become painfully obvious to both of us. And I can only hope that they left a few small crumbs that could be of use to us, because otherwise we would have traveled here for nothing, and that would mean turning back to fucking square one. And something tells me that we can't afford to sit around waiting for Laswell to find another deep drawer from which she can conjure up another clue of dubious origin. We need the info now. And quickly.

"Let's see if they left anythin' behind." Riley suggests, and with a confident movement, opens the door leading to the lab, which squeals under the man's palm as it glides across the ground, probably fallen apart from the violent entrance of the previous enthusiastic wanderer, getting stuck in the flagstone protruding from the floor. And as the entry to the lab opens in front of us, we are welcomed by the same unflinching, nerve-wrackingly peaceful stillness that has accompanied us until now, and which has caused us nothing but unpleasant moments. And now I have ingrained it in my consciousness that this deceptively monotonous nothingness is synonymous with trouble and deeply buried, sneaky little mysteries.

The Hunter crosses the doorway of the lab first, and I follow him into the small room, which could have functioned as a kind of vestibule, based on the cabinets lined up against the wall and the control panel that rests unharmed in one of the narrow corners. From the monitors shrouded in lifeless darkness above the many buttons, only our dim figure and the Hunter's gaze burning in crimson are reflected, as if we were the ghosts that returned to haunt among the remains of murder and destruction. However, my attention is soon caught by the faint, greenish light flickering from one of the machines on the table, which is the only proof that whatever is being operated down here is still very much working, and is just waiting to be turned on by someone. And it seems that Riley also noticed this small detail, because after scanning through the area, he turns around and heads towards the multitude of gadgets.

"It still works."  Riley observes, and judging by his tone, he also finds it a little interesting that the intruders were willing to harm everything else, but they left this little corner so untouched and intact, as if it had performed some very insignificant task. Or on the contrary. They didn't touch it because those machines are responsible for something very damn important. And as the Hunter settles next to the control panel, he slips his gun onto its sling and starts to work with rutin movements, presumably to breathe life into the devices.

I let the man play with his newly found toys, and I divert my scrutinizing gaze to see if I can still find something that might be of interest to us. I head towards the new door opening from the small room, and at this point, I seriously start cursing the doc, who turned this wretched building into such a complicated maze. It's as if he wanted to hide more and more excitement for those interested behind each entrance, although I suspect that there is a much more practical reason behind why he wanted to make his humble abode so bombproof. And interest immediately flares up in my brain, which leads my pretty little body to the doorstep of the battered entrance, next to which a broken fingerprint reader panel lets me know that this thick steel plate is meant to hide something very important from the outside world. This fills me with demanding sparks of curiosity, which makes me sneak closer with soft steps like a cat spying on a small mouse, and then, straining against the large door, I open a gap for myself to venture into the hidden recesses of the foreign place. As soon as I cross the threshold, I arrive at a long corridor, on the sides of which glass walls reach up high, located at an unusually regular distance from each other, and they are easily recognized by my clever little eyes, as the flickering lights of the security cameras resting on the ceiling are refracted on their surface. And this is such a strange detail that my body moves almost by itself to creep closer to the glass closest to me, and the fact that all the security cameras stand guard facing the walls of the corridor doesn't escape my attention. Because it makes it quite clear that whatever lurks on the other side is important enough to require a dozen artificial eyes to watch over.

And in spite of my sharp eyes, when I get to the very first glass wall, even I can't make out what might be hiding behind it. That's why I slowly stalk closer, and every fiber of me slowly fills with an instinctive tension full of anticipation, which reminds me again of the horror movies that I secretly watched in the privacy of my room under the cover of the night. And although I wanted to seem like a tough girl, when I was waiting for the danger hiding in the terrible silence to appear on the screen, all my nerves were on edge in exact the same way as they are now. As if my body wanted to prepare me for something terrible to occur, and the restless tension gripping my stomach infuses me with stress well in advance, so that when the worst happens, I can take flight immediately. I hear the steady rhythm of my pulse pounding in my ears as I slowly stop just a step away from the wall. However, the unsettling emptiness that lies on the other side doesn't become more visible, and smoothing my palm on the cold, flat surface, I lean closer to narrow my eyes and try to peek in, but I find nothing but a pitch-black, uninhabited room.

And for a fleeting moment, a shapeless spot seems to move in the back of the room, but before I can make out what it is, the shadow takes over the task of greeting me, and a huge body crashes against the glass wall so unexpectedly that I don't have time to comprehend it. The scream that breaks out of me is instinctive, as I stumble back in alarm, and I feel my heart begin to thump in my chest, and I'm afraid it might burst out of my ribs at any moment. The hard metal of my pistol presses painfully into my palm, but my shocked body cannot force my hand to move, so I just stare with wide eyes at the mouth full of needle-sharp teeth slowly appearing in front of me, which is desperately trying to press its jaws against the smooth surface of the glass. And when a hand grabs my shoulder out of nowhere, I only shriek pathetically, helplessly obeying the hasty force that is pulling me behind the sturdy figure that steps in front of me. Although it takes a few fleeting seconds, I understand that Riley is the one who rushed to my rescue and dragged me behind him, and a shaky sigh leaves my lips as my body slowly calms down after the goddamn surprise. And when I have recollected my composure enough to assess the way the man is standing between the  I.M.L. on the other side of the glass and me, then the icy fingers closing around my stomach release their grasp, so that my belly can flutter with a completely different kind of sensation, as I take in how protectively he towers above me.

"You okay?" Comes the question from the Hunter, and his glowing red eyes look at me for a moment as he glances back, and I don't think I'm imagining the wrathful gleam in them. But when his shoulders slowly let go of the tension in them, as he lowers his gun, when he assesses that I have no major problems other than a heart attack, then I know that the aggression with which he stormed in here is much more for a mutant imprisoned in a dark hole than me. And the knowledge that I was able to instill worry in the soul of this gruff man suppresses the shame that scratches my insides, because I screamed to the world with the enthusiasm of a young schoolgirl, that I fell into an amateur mistake and allowed myself to be spooked.

"Yeah. I think." I breathe, and my voice sounds miserably weak even to my own ears, and with the power of the combined work of every single nerve fiber, I finally manage to pull myself together and drive away the last grain of terror that has settled in my body. "This asshole surprised me." I clear my throat, pointing my pistol towards the glass wall, where, upon seeing the two luscious snacks, the deformed creature, perhaps resembling a combination of a wolf and a bobcat, starts a desperate struggle with its huge paws, and strikes again and again with dull thuds on the probably unbreakable glass. At least the doc had enough sense not to be cheap on this, even if he didn't have two connecting brain cells to realize that it wasn't the best idea to throw live beasts where dozens of people spend their daily lives.

"What an I.M.L. is doin' here?" The masked man asks as he steps back from the cell to take a closer look at the captive beast. And from the fact that its grotesque body, swollen with muscles, looks more like an experiment made up of several predators than a well-definable late mammal, I can conclude that this monster can be at least a fourth-generation specimen. This swine wasn't created by the virus through a bite, but by a long line of reproduction between mutants, and it could have a very remarkable family tree if such a behemoth could have been put together by its deformed ancestors. Why did Alviar need such a dangerous bastard?

"It might have something to do with what Alviar was working with." I come to the logical conclusion, because I doubt that he wanted to admire the reproduction of mutants with this monster. He could have done that with the help of a dead individual which a Hunter had previously made safe by depriving the wretch of his life. But my colleague needed the test subject alive, and this raises a series of disturbing assumptions in my head, which immediately encourages me to dig deeper. I hurriedly move my eyes along the corridor, and when I see the double door at the end, it becomes quite obvious where our path leads next. "That's where the lab might be, maybe we'll find out what the hell is going on here." I direct the Hunter's attention to my discovery, and without any further prompting, he turns to spy on what my clever little eyes have come across.

"Then we'd better take a look at it." Riley gives his blessing to our next target, glancing down at me expectantly, and I take one last look at the mutant who presses its foaming mouth to the glass trying to overcome the obstacle in front of it in its frenzied hunger, and for a minute I almost feel sorry for the scum. But I quickly get rid of my sympathy, because I know that if this heavy-duty surface were not standing between us, then without further ado, it would taste the delicacy that has slipped here in my pretty person. However, one thing becomes quite obvious as I turn away to walk down the dim corridor with the Hunter following me closely on our journey like a watchful shadow. In the dozens of glass cages spread out next to us, impressively developed I.M.L.s found a lonely little home, who, following the hysteria of their little friend, bravely ventured out of the hidden corners of their cells to see with their own eyes what caused such an uproar. Although outwardly they all display a wide repertoire of deformities, and no two deformed beasts are the same, but every one of them strains against the glass walls in peak condition, with a tangible aggression in their milky white eyes, and it's probably their two weeks of fasting that makes them so wildly enthusiastic. Alviar collected a whole zoo of mutants for himself, which required the help of trained Hunters at best. And if Alejandro and his small team had no idea what was going on, he got help from someone else. However, tracking down and killing these bastards is by no means an easy task, but it's even more complicated to not be caught where the liquidation units of the colony conduct regular patrols. And this is just one more reason for the fact to be reinforced in my little head, which echoes, that this wouldn't have been possible without the cooperation of a much higher authority.

When we reach the entrance of the main lab, Riley steps in front of me with ease and pushes the double door with his foot with perhaps more momentum than necessary, then he enters with his assault rifle pointed forward in search of enemies. And even though I know that, being an experienced professional, he probably instinctively takes on the role, fearlessly throwing himself into the unknown to eliminate risks before they have a chance to cause harm, I can't suppress the tingle that stirs inside me. Because the delusional voice in my head tells me that in addition to the routine, maybe my charming person helped him become a protective tank. And the idea that I'm influencing the man's behavior sounds so tempting in my head that I allow this dangerous train of thought to start in my mind for a stray moment. Because maybe I want to be the reason why he scans the deserted room in front of us with such intense attention, promising a cruel death in his crimson eyes to anyone brave enough to try to strike him. And when he doesn't find a single courageous candidate in the void who would like to meet him, he just turns and walks to the wall next to the door, to after a short search, conjure blinding brightness in the room.

As the neon light flashes, I cover my eyes with my hand because the light burning my retinas blinds me for a moment, and it takes a few seconds before the white spots dancing behind my eyelids disappear, and my vision, accustomed to the darkness until now, adapt to the new conditions. And when I'm finally not in danger of going blind, I have the opportunity to admire the rampage left in the luxurious lab. The intruders didn't even try to remain unnoticed here either, and they were certainly looking for something quite important, because dozens of files are lying crumpled on the floor in front of the wide-open doors of the cabinets, and the large footprints on them reveal that whoever broke in didn't come for the documents. Shards of broken vials and flasks and the unknown liquids leaked out from them litter the spotless white surfaces on the tables that stretch throughout the lab, and drawers hang out of the furniture with hasty violence, as if someone had just enough patience to tear them open and mess up the documents resting in them. A wide array of modern equipment, the likes of which a mere mortal like me didn't have the chance to see up close within the walls of the colonies, rest somewhat unscathed in the middle of the vandalism, the only reminder that some really interesting work could have been going on in the research institution.

"They were clearly lookin' for somethin'." Riley remarks, breaking the sinister silence that has set in, as he strolls into the upheaval of the room with heavy steps, curiously separating a couple of smudged notes with his gloved hand, which are lying on one of the counters and stick to each other, soaked in the unknown spilled chemical. And the Hunter is not wrong indeed, because only those who want to find something can turn every fucking inch upside down, and the vile little voice in my head tells me that they probably succeeded.

"They probably found it." I answer gloomily, and the shards of glass strewn on the floor slide squealing under the soles of my boots, as I wander inside and carry my eyes around the lab searching for something that has at least remained a little more intact to be of use to us. And as my gaze settles on the computer resting in a hidden corner of the room, a small triumphant smile crosses my face, because it seems that fate will finally spare me and throw me a bone that might be enough to find another clue. "But maybe we have something left for us too." I grin, and with nimble steps, I set off towards my discovered prey in the crossfire of the man's intrigued gaze, with such haste as if the unfortunate electronic device were a mirage that could disappear at any moment in the cold glow of the neon lights.

And when I arrive, I start the machine in a hurry, praying to each and every entity for a few seconds and chanting mantras for it to work, and as the starting screen flashes, a relieved sigh breaks out of me, which had been stuck in my lungs until now due to stress. I hear a soft hum as the computer warms up, and as the desktop slowly loads, it occurs to me that after the labyrinth leading up to this place and the complicated security system, a device that is presumably loaded with research data is left stupidly unprotected, without even a password. Instead, I thank karma for finally deigning to smile at me, because, after the excitement of the last couple of hours, I probably would have smashed this shit to pieces if I had to engage in a long hacking attempt. And as soon as the monotonous blue background comes up, and dozens of folders cheerfully lined up next to each other appear on the screen, it becomes quite certain that we haven’t needlessly wasted our time by going on exploration in this godawful building. My hand hastily dives into my pocket, searching for my communicator, and after fishing it out, I quickly pull out the connector, and finding one of the many inputs on the computer case, I plug it into the machine. And when the small window showing the communicator's storage space pops up, I select everything I discover to copy, because it seems that I have found a real gold mine, which I will probably be able to study with a calmer nervous system within the peaceful walls of the unit's base. And while the little device is working, I immerse myself completely in decoding the sonorous Spanish names of the folders, and I only faintly perceive the sound of footsteps and then a door opening, because, in the middle of my little research, something quite interesting catches my attention, as my sharp little eyes settle on the on one of the yellow icons.

Because even with my poor language skills, I can decipher from the "I.H.L."  phrase in the title that something quite juicy may be lurking there. Without delay, I click on the folder, and dozens of files appear in the pop-up window, under each of which lies a seemingly unordered series of numbers and letters. And it doesn't take much logic to figure out that random numbers might mark dates, which makes me assume that I might have found the carefully arranged notes of an examination log. But, when I scroll further down and names appear, I'm overcome with confusion, because the uncomfortable question arises in me, that what could human names be doing among the carefully recorded documentation of observations. And because of this, I start opening the files with frenzied speed, and the more windows that appear, the more the puzzlement that settles inside me deepens, because to my disappointment, each and every document contains nothing interesting except the profile pictures and personal data. However, when I see a photo of a man wearing a uniform similar to the guards here, I freeze in shock in the midst of my busy search. For a moment, I fear that my eyes are playing a cruel game with me, but when, leaning closer, I identify with full confidence the eerily familiar tattoo that begins on the line of the guy's neck emerging from his clothes, then the realization hits me with such speed that my brain doesn't get a spark for a second. Because the exact same tattoo is staring back at me, this time from the unknown guard, as what I so cleverly discovered in Laswell's report on the capture of the F.H.L.. And the wild assumption that Alviar hid in the middle of fucking nowhere in order to breed a new kind of humanoid mutant with his own hands, makes my stomach drop nervously and causes terror to enter my every cell with an elemental force. But why?

"Woods! You need to see this!" Riley's shout tears me out from the thousands of ominous explanations swirling in his head, and I wake up from my shock startled, to turn to look for the source of his urgent, deep voice. And when I discover the silhouette of the man through the door opening from the other end of the lab, then, guided by the stress hormones creeping into my limbs, I turn my back on the dubious data and  the communicator which is still working diligently, to rush through the chaos of the lab, driven by the momentum of the nervousness moving into my body.

When I step into the unknown room, the cool air that resides there hits me, and I quickly realize that I must have stumbled into that chamber, which was hidden in sinister anonymity on the floor plan. Both walls of the room are covered with a shiny metal surface up to the ceiling, and its continuity is interrupted by a multitude of square doors with handles on them, which gives me the feeling that I have fallen into the middle of a morgue. And when I find Riley standing in front of one of the open doors, I already know that I wasn't wrong, because in front of him on a long metal tray is a naked body lying as lifeless as a grotesque wax figure. And as I take a few cautious steps closer and more and more details are revealed to me, I realize that the unnatural paleness that runs along the unknown human form is much more familiar than I feel comfortable admitting. I stand next to my masked companion in silent astonishment, and with ever-increasing shock, I measure the almost translucent skin, under which, even in the state of rigor mortis, the muscles that used to swell with strength stretch clearly. But it worries me much more when I discover that I'm not looking at the corpse of a deceased Hunter preserved in an amazing condition, because although it's not nearly as deformed as many of its friends, it would be impossible to mistake the sharp teeth in the mouth opened in an eternal roar, or the worldless white eyes, which are characteristic of only one species according to our current knowledge. And my brain gets short-circuited for a minute, as I realize that the humanoid mutant, that we have just come across and the like of which I have never seen before, is a more advanced lifeform than our mutant-riding friend we met in the city, even solely based on its physical characteristics. When I break away from the unsettling sight to look around the room again, I realize that judging by the dozens of doors, this newcomer is probably not the only one hiding within the institution's walls.

And as my gaze connects with the Riley's, I discover the same dark foreboding in the now chocolate-colored eyes, which also sit in my skull like a slimy parasite. Alviar tried to play god, and whatever he used to create these monstrosities, whoever turned the institution into a slaughterhouse, in order to find it, took it and is long gone. Fuck.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #simon riley #cod #cod ghost #johnny soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #captain price #john price #john soap mctavish #captain john price #john mactavish #simon riley ghost #ghost simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost call of duty #cod mw ghost #ghost cod #cod modern warfare #cod mwii #cod mw2 #guideverse #alternate universe #johnny mactavish #kate laswell #alejandro vargas #rodolfo parra #kyle garrick #cod 141

[haila-wetyios]

I come from a third world country. Which makes it easy for peeps from the first world to have several misconceptions about living conditions or even where I am (my favourite is the one where they think Nicaragua is located in Africa, or me being Russian).

That said, my husband (who I now believe is the saint of patience in disguise) has done his best in the 10 years we've been together to try and at least explain to his family that no, I don't live in a hut, unaware of all commodities and twiddling my thumbs, trying to marry him to get a visa and dump him right away. Or that yes, there's several towns at my country with rich agriculture but all are modern enough that you won't feel like you're in the end of the world or in some random mountain in your tent (unless of course, you really wanted to go camping to all our green areas).

We got a half assed functioning capital city, we only have Summer all year round, and greens and dairy products are so rampant that there's tons of cheeses that I can't smuggle out to my friends because they come with zero preservatives and maybe some extra seasoning from the farmer hand that handled them that had no time to wash it before we got it.

We lack a few of the fancier things in current modern society yes (as in, old models of several things), but it reflects mostly in the lack of manners and survival of the fittest practice that we have to deal with on a daily basis against each other. And of course, the government insisting on getting the country to crumble from the inside and the oppression of those against it, but that's a topic for a different writing.

This of course, has not gotten through my dear mother in law's head, and now that I'm staying for a brief period of time with them to get the hang of Canada, everyday is a very wild day of hot takes from her strange assumptions about me, or the way she handles things in general. Here are some of them:

"That's a train! Have you ever seen/been on a train before?"

"Oh I just got organic milk! It's good for your body. Have you ever had organic milk?"

Asking which Canadian brand I have never heard off I would like for certain groceries.

Going through roads I've only seen once since first arriving and asking if they're familiar to me.

"OH I HAVE TO TEACH YOU HOW TO USE THE TV" *proceeds to press the ON button and tell me to choose Netflix on the menu*

Suggesting that since they got a bag full of toothpaste, lotions, deodorants and so on, that I could grab those and make small packets to bring back to gift to my friends and co-workers at home.

Being very confused as to why I would take a walk around the neighbourhood without my husband, who is chilling playing games and letting me do my own thing.

Asking my husband why I didn't cook him breakfast instead of us sharing duties on breakfast prepping.

Asking if I've ever had cheese from Portugal often (it's always a new different brand).

"Y'KNOWWHATIMEAN?" x8 times (minimum) to me during the day.

Trying to get me to agree that the current weather is blazing hot while I'm wearing at least 2 jackets.

Being very confused when I mentioned my parents went out on a fishing trip, asking why if our house 'is right next to the sea' (we live in the city).

Insisting that I accept several cloth donations.

Insisting that my family take several cloth donations.

Asking in different words if I've ever had boiled eggs???

Losing her mind when I mentioned we don't have sweet potatoes at home.

Being shocked that we grow our own herbs in the backyard (parsley, thyme, etc etc).

Now just in case, this doesn't upset me as much as it amuses me at this point. We deal with too much shit at home for misconceptions to get to me. But those are only the tip of the iceberg of everything I've seen and heard in roughly a week of being around. And I do have to admit, I'm both wondering while also being terrified of whatever misconception comes next. I've had several moments of giving the benefit of the doubt and my dear mother in law grabs those, and throws them into a home run far, far away.

She loves me and changing the way she thinks is definitely impossible. So just gotta take the list of things and roll with them I guess. In her eyes, I either popped out of thin air, or have been living in Canada for a long while, there's no in between image of me

#personal #There's so many more lol.... But those only involve her and not her image of me #She's... a very unique person #I have the nagging feeling she doesn't know where my country even is but I don't wanna ask and see another home run just yet

[datzyuk]

2023 wrap up post under the cut ⬇️ bc this blog is basically my diary

this year flew by!!! here are some highlights

completed four semesters of grad school. 4.0'd it all!!!! only one more semester to go!!

visited four more national parks (death valley, isle royale, crater lake, and the redwoods)

saw a moose! and banana slugs! and elk! all in the wild

went to games @ two more NHL arenas (ottawa + montreal)

visited a new state (wisconsin)

started a new role @ my company during the craziest period my team has ever experienced and i survived!!!

visited two more star wars filming locations + one that will be used in an upcoming show (i will be very obnoxious abt it when it drops)

rented a car on vacation for the first time! and ofc i chose a very hilly location w insanely narrow roads. only got one flat tire during the trip tho!!!

tried thimbleberries :-) also had a thimbleberry donut!

visited another canadian province (quebec) and ate sooo much poutine

watched 76 movies!! not a record but i enjoyed quite a few of them

visited another country (portugal)

some of the goals that i set for myself at the beginning of the year included

finish the yr with fewer unread books than i started it with. unfortch i started w 74 unread books and i currently have 75 books. but i am proud of myself for showing restraint @ used bookstores

save $$$ while i'm still living at home w my parents. i did save a shit ton despite all of the traveling.

get out of the house more. definitely failed this one BUT i think it's understandable. work + school kicked my ass.

for 2024 i'm just gonna roll over my goals. hopefully once i'm done w my degree in april, i'll have more time to do the things i want to do. but i DO want to add a fourth goal. EAT MORE SOUP.

anyways here are nine pics from my 2023

#2023 has been alright !!!!! #too much time spent working or studying #but there will be less of that in 2024

[curiositydooropened]

Umbrella

You're late for work during a deluge, and your roommate stole your damn umbrella

Pairing: Roommate!Eddie x Reader

Word Count: 1,680

Warnings: smut-adjacent, voyeurism, masturbation, accidents

---

It had begun to pour outside, bucket even, the first rain of the season and it was more of a flood, biblical. And of course, you were running late for work, and of course, you couldn’t find your umbrella. You dug through the tiny closet next to the door, chucking out too many pairs of sneakers and even a pair of water shoes. You knew you took it out of the closet when you saw the forecast. It’s black with a little curved handle, and it flapped as you procured it, trying to snap it back together, and your roommate made some comment about how it looked like a bat, so it had to be out here somewhere.

Your roommate had gone to the store that morning for eggs. Biting back a curse, you stormed over a pair of combat boots in the direction of his bedroom door, the one across from yours, plastered in gig posters and a hand-painted sign that read “GET OUT”. Metal music played from just beyond the paper thin walls, the grating rhythm of double bass now boiling your blood with the certainty that he had stolen your umbrella.

Without knocking, you turned the knob and shoved the door open. Just beyond the mess of dirty clothes and old beer cans, in the very center of the room, stood Eddie Munson, all wild hair and pale skin, back to the door as he thrashed to his music. You rolled your eyes and glanced sideways to find your umbrella, unsnapped, discarded near his leather jacket on the floor.

You grumbled and leaned to pick it up. Only, from this angle, you got a full view of Eddie you hadn’t noticed a moment ago. He was buck-ass naked. As in, the soft, pale flesh of his ass curved meters from your face. His thighs were tight, more muscular than you imagined, and the lower half of him matched his top in a smattering of dark hair. You also noticed his thrashing to the music wasn’t exactly… thrashing. His tricep was flexed, elbow and forearm dipped down the front of him.

 You clutched the umbrella to your chest and covered your mouth with a hand to silence a scream. As long as he kept turned toward the window (a risky move), you could sneak out. You wanted to look anywhere else, but you couldn’t, eyes glued to the pull of his muscles with each precise movement. You held your breath until your eyes felt like they were about to burst from your skull, and you backed yourself slowly out of the room. If you were lucky, you’d be on the road before he even noticed you’d gone.

You weren’t lucky though. You tripped over the combat boots and went crashing to the living room floor. Your umbrella flew from your hand, about ten feet into the air, and crash-landed on the floor of the hallway.

Just above the music, you heard “Jesus fucking Christ!” And the scramble of clothes and cans as Eddie maneuvered to turn off the stereo.

You clambered yourself upright, elbows and hip bones smarting with forming bruises. You stretched yourself across the floor to grab your umbrella, shielding your eyes before helping you upright. 

“Are you okay?” Eddie’s voice was raspy, and you could hear the intake and exhale of his breath.

You felt yourself blossom with heat. “Fine. Umbrella. Work. Bye!” Was all you could manage, waving the object his direction before scurrying out the front door. You didn’t even bother locking up behind you. 

—

You couldn’t focus at work. Puddles had soaked through your pants and socks, and the deluge had created a flash flood outside the storefront. Due to the storm, the manager had put the heater on too strong, or so you thought because you felt warm your entire shift. You couldn’t get that damn song out of your head, and every time you glanced at the container of bananas, you thought you might explode.

Finally, at the end of a long shift, you removed your apron, opened your umbrella and walked home. You took the long way, avoiding busy streets and the possibility that Eddie might be out of his room when you got home, stretched across the couch like nothing had happened. Like you didn’t walk in on him… exercising his forearm.

God, you could still vividly see the curve of his spine, the small dimples at the base of his back. You’d seen them before, poking out of the top of his boxers, but this was different. The curve of his ass was meatier than you expected, above the weight of his thick thighs, and you couldn’t get over the rock of his pelvis. It looked like he knew what he was doing. 

You blinked and sputtered, a blast of rain water splashing your face, icing you to your bones. A car sputtered by, taillights blurred in the puddle it drove through. You flipped them the bird, wiping at your soaked face, and stomped your way back home, teeth chattering.

When you arrived inside, you immediately shook yourself off like a dog, folding your umbrella and carefully snapping it back together before setting in just inside the little closet near the door. You could no longer feel your hands, and your hair continued to drip a trail down your neck. You stripped from your jacket and hung it on its place on the rail beside your other coats.

“You’re soaked.” A comment stirred your attention, a sound that sent another tremor through you.

“No, I’m not!” You snapped back, turning to face your roommate. Despite every inch of cotton and denim slicked to your figure, you were hot under his gaze, too hot, melting even. 

“What?” He frowned.

“Nothing, I’m fine.” You corrected, peeling your t-shirt from your stomach so he couldn’t see the curves of you, the peaks of your nipples through the material. 

“Listen,” he took a few steps closer, crossing the living room in his socks. He’d put on a fair amount of clothes since you saw him last: jeans, a grey sweater, a cotton t-shirt that poked from underneath the hem. He looked cozy, but you could still make out the muscles of him from under his layers, forever haunted by the curves and peaks. “Can we talk?”

“I’m wet.” You huffed, and then blanched at the double entendre. “I mean,” you sucked in some air, slamming your eyes closed so you didn’t have to see the sway of his hair. “I need to change, and I had a really long day, so I’d just like to go to bed.” 

“Okay, I get it, but I really think we should talk about it.”

You peaked your eyes open again to see him a few feet away, hands stuffed into the back pockets of his jeans, rolling back and forth on the balls of his feet. A deep flush had scattered across his cheeks. “I don’t really think we need to.” You squeaked.

He sighed, and the dimples started to carve their way onto those rosy cheeks, and you knew you weren’t going to resist that Cheshire Cat smile. 

You started backing yourself down the hallway toward your bedroom, feet slipping against the hardwood where you’d left a puddle in your wake. “Listen, Eddie, I’m really sorry. I needed my umbrella. I should have knocked. It’s not a big deal. I didn’t see anything… okay I did, but like it’s no big deal, right? We’re all human. We all do it. Even me.” You zipped your lips before anything else would come out and let out two cheeks full of air, like a balloon zipping itself around the walls.

Eddie scratched at the back of his neck, ducked his head, hair swaying in his face. “Shit. Did you uh… hear anything?” 

Your heart started racing at the thought, and you frantically shook your head. “Music was too loud.”

He nodded, tonguing at his molars, cheek puffed out with the swell of his tongue, and you thought you’d go weak at the knees at the sight. “Listen, I’m really, really sorry. I should have locked the door.”

You groped wildly for your door handle. “It’s fine, Eddie. Really. I just needed my umbrella.”

“Didn’t do much good.” He was inching closer. You hadn’t realized it until he was nearly on you, hovering just across the hall in front of his own bedroom door. Over his shoulder, you noticed the hand-painted sign had been removed.

“Huh?” You couldn’t feel your tongue. You were freezing, and Eddie smelled of shampoo and a little bit like weed, dizzying.

He plucked at the stretch of your shirt across your shoulder until the breeze blew down your collar, prickling you with gooseflesh. 

“Oh,” you nodded and your hand slipped around your door knob, pressing the door open. You nodded toward the entrance, bed neatly made, clean clothes folded at the end of it. 

Eddie offered a smile, and a two-fingered salute, and when you turned around it made you think of something.

“Eddie?”

“What’s up?”

“When you said ‘did I hear anything’, what was I meant to be listening for?” You weren’t sure what made you so bold, maybe the water dripping down your back, or maybe the lack of metal music in the apartment for once, giving your head a little room for clarity.

Eddie turned another soft shade of pink. He took a step closer to you. “When you said ‘we all do it. Even you’?” 

And dear God, he looked so good and so warm in that sweater, you practically launched yourself at him. Strong arm, strong strong arms wrapped around you and lifted you from the ground as your lips collided. His were plump and soft, and your were freezing. You were vaguely aware of the print of you darkening the front of his outfit, but you didn’t care as he walked you backwards into your room.

“You’re freezing, babe,” he offered that knee-weakening, Cheshire grin.

“Better help get this off then.”

“Oh, I intend to.” 

---

A/N: Okay, genuinely one of the spiciest things I've written, and I'm lowkey embarrassed about it so please be kind to me. hahaha I do love this dynamic though and I think it'd be fun to play with them in the future!

Thanks, as always, for reading xo and Happy Autumn!

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things fic #stranger things drabble

[marinecorvid]

Finally finished pokemon white (beating alder. Twice actually bc I wasn’t satisfied w my first run through) and Hilda <3 in my heart she’s a grungy carabiner-utilizer who wears the same clothes until they’re no longer wearable. The first thing she bought for herself with her first league paycheck was get a classic pair of doc martens (also has freckles. Very important). extensive headcanons under the cut

In my head all the games events happened over the course of a little over a year (starting from late 2011 autumn/winter cusp to early 2013 winter/spring) though plasma was metaphorically poking the bear for years prior until it reached a boiling point, coincidentally just when she finally had the chance to have a fun road trip with her gf and mean gay bestie. (Cheren chasing plasma thru castelia city: LETS GO LESBIANS! RUNNING THROUGH CASTELIA WITH A PACK OF WILD LESBIANS)

has a tendency to be blunt to the point of rudeness. tries to stay in her lane, but will finish shit if you start it. short temper, but very devoted to her friends n family, love language is acts of service. perpetually tired feeling, resting bitch face, but has a fun streak her pokemon and younger cousins (foremost being nate) can easily draw out. worked on her family’s tepig farm prior to going out into the world from the time she was young and doing a short stint in customer service rather than physical labor changed her for the worse (people disregarding rules abt where they can and cant go in the barns, feeding the pokemon outside food, nearly falling in the pignite paddock etc etc) and lowered her patience reserves to near zero. ran track in high school, grew up going to tailgate parties and bonfires and drinking cheap beer someone’s older brother bought bc there’s nothing better to do. adventuring out in unova and being in The Nature really decreases her stress and makes her general demeanor much less agitated/snappish

gets a little better on the mildly judgemental but “that’s none of my business” thing she’s got going after the N/Ghetsis final fight; dual character development of N and Hilda learning that someone else’s different worldview/way of thinking isn’t inherently bad/weird. simultaneously embraces and resents hero of ideals status; embraces giving in to her desires and wants and getting involved in stuff because she wants to (eldest daughter syndrome/grew up in a financially challenged household so didn’t apply to any college or technical school bc she didn’t want to put any financial strain on the household), but resents being initially shoved into the position by N and eventually the league.

she also resents technically being hailed as champion after beating N (who was also technically champion) but the board of directors made a rule deciding champion titles awarded with legendaries don’t count due to their godlike abilities in battle and told her if she wants to count as champion she has to fight them again without zekrom. (words can’t describe how angry-indignant she was. you practically strongarm her into the position then tell her actually she doesn’t get the respect and benefits and dignity?? cheren’s ears were ringing)

i know some ppl headcanon her as kinda getting along with N during the game and trying to reason with him, but not this hilda. girl was down to kick ass from first impromptu battle. N has to trick her with a zoroark illusion to get him on that ferris wheel and she nearly socks him in the face for it. only until Ghetsis earns his #1 father of the year award does it really sink in oh wow this guy was actually just a tool his whole life

used a variety of pokemon early in journey, releasing some and trading others to less intensive trainers locally once they felt they reached a threshold of battling they weren’t comfortable with. most consistent pokemon she’s had with her are neidr the serperior, llyffant the seismitoad, and gantroed the scolipede, eventually joined by adar the archeops, ysbryd the jellicent, and minipete the emolga for the final VS N battle. felt immense pressure to have a “competitive” battle team after passing driftveil city, kinda had a breakdown, chilled out and stayed with the pokemon she had connections with.

however, does restructure her team post-Ghetsis bc one) very rough battle, long term recovery and two) realistically if she wants to continue battling professionally/competitively, she doesn’t want pokemon not interested in battling so intensely to get hurt. she adds 4 new pokemon to the party, keeping neidr and llyffant: tyranitar, galvantula, haxorus, hydreigon. her preferred pokemon are largely tanks, with neidr providing niche coverage (serperior moveset sucks in bw) and galvantula thunder waving and then volt switching. also thunder w compound eyes is based 

full name is Hilda Gwynne, will tell you to call her Gwyn if she likes you. notorious lemonade lover. cheap shitty motel inhabitor. snowball fight enthusiast. twin sibling of hilbert (lives with his aunt in iccirus). father was a member of team rocket. thinks garbador is the coolest guy ever. went briefly diving in undella bay with and without cynthia, thinks it’s cursed and never wants to go back down. doesn’t know why shadow triad gave her the adamant + lustrous + griseous orbs and doesn’t want to find out, had them interred in dragonspiral tower in secret. the zekrom i got is defiant + bold natured which means xey’re nearly as stubborn as hilda and generally hostile to anyone she doesn’t explicitly like. when xey were still in dark stone form minipete (an emolga you can get via trade in mistralton) was practically entranced by it, constantly wanting to look at it, cheeks sparking whenever he touched it; now whenever xey’re sunbathing behind the barns, minipete’s the only one allowed to perch on xem. worked briefly with dr fennel, a pioneer in dream study and the entralink, and then did nothing else with that academic connection. thinks deerling are super cute. accidentally picked up a zorua in castelia city at some point and had looney toons shenanigans trying to get it home to lost woods. nickelback and carrie underwood fan. enjoys going mudding in her ma’s old pickup truck with the volume cranked up so high it rattles someone else’s car and still managing to holler loudly enough to be heard (she did a significant amount of this in the immediate aftermath of beating N as stress relief). can shout + pitch her voice real loud + deep. born during an early october snowstorm, has always had a fascination with storms of any kind. nicknames all her Pokémon in poke-welsh

mysteriously goes missing after leaving home to search for N; had semi-regularly with her mother and friends, but after being reportedly spotted around lacunosa town some time ago, seems to have vanished off the face of the earth except for three of her pokemon (archeops, scolipede, and emolga) found nearby, exhausted and nearly comatose, suffering extreme hypothermia despite being found during summertime.

#pokemon bw #pokemon black and white #hilda #redesign #kind of #my art #anyways time to go fight cynthia. wish me luck

[strikersunindie]

🤍 summer camp trio pls

Meme SEND ME 🤍 + A SHIP AND I’LL TELL YOU…     [   VOL. 3   ]

Who cooks meals for the others? - Daniel does. While Frank can cook, it's Daniel that actually makes sure all three get the nutrients they need. Frank is the wild game king though, especially since he doesn't like wasting any animals they kill during their wolf runs.

Who spams the other with memes? - Jacob. The other two have a lot of catching up to do.

Who likes to tidy around the house? - Who Likes to? None. Who does it? Jacob. Frank however does do outdoor work, and Daniel fixes any repairs that need to be done.

Who likes to play pranks on the other? - Frank, but Jacob definitely gets back at him. Daniel is the neutral party ever since the one time they did play a prank, he sent them to a literal dog house for each of them.

Who asked the other to move in with them? - Daniel. He and Frank lived together but it was a bit strained. Jacob was the balancing presence between the two.

Who is in charge of the music during a car ride?- Whichever is driving, though Frank has a few metal songs that Daniel loathes and wears noise-canceling headphones when Frank is driving on a roadtrip.

Who is more likely to tickle the other mercilessly? - Frank, especially after Jacob joined them since Daniel isn't ticklish. Daniel will join in too.

Who needs to hold the other during scary movies? - Jacob. The two wolves rarely get scared because they're both big scary bads of their own.

Who has to help the other when it comes to technology? - Daniel and Jacob have to help Frank when they finally upgrade him to a smart phone with the strongest case they could find.

Who likes to get a bit frisky in public / an inappropriate setting? - Frank definitely feels Jacob up all the time outdoors, but Daniel tends to tease Jacob whenever they're indoors. Poor Jacob.

Who wakes up first, and do they wake up the other or let them rest? - Frank is the earliest riser, and he lets the others sleep since he tends to workout or go for a run. Daniel is next and he usually makes the coffee and breakfast. Jacob is last, especially after a night of being used like a ragdoll between the two of them. The two don't let him sleep in too long though.

Who is always taking pictures of the other when they aren’t looking? - Jacob is definitely the one that takes the candid pictures of the other two. Frank knows how to take selfies, and Daniel is more the experience the moment type to remember to take any.

Who always forgets their wallet and never ends up paying for anything? - Jacob, mostly because he pays for it in ass later. He does contribute to bills though, or gas on their road trips.

Who can’t sleep because the other snores or moves too much at night? - Daniel. It's why they have separate bedrooms, since Frank is definitely a loud snorer. Jacob has trouble too, but exhaustion will win over on those nights. Frank doesn't mind when Jacob goes to sleep with Daniel, since he knows he's a snorer and obnoxious sleeper. He likes the room.

Who is better at video games, and do they let the other win or show no mercy? - Jacob absolutely destroys them, BUT Daniel is getting better and fast. Frank is the cheerleader though and gets excited whenever Jacob destroys online enemies.

Who always gets up in the middle of the night to use the restroom and accidentally wakes up the other? - Jacob on those nights he isn't destroyed and filled. Also eventually his body starts getting the endurance and stamina to actually handle the two wolves after a couple of years, so his old night habits start to kick in. Daniel is the one that gets woken up. Frank is the heaviest sleeper of the three.

#himboner #summer camp trio #i like that name for this ship #daniel info #frank info

[universaladv]

Wildlife Experiences on a Leh Ladakh Bike Trip from Delhi

Importance of Responsible Tourism

Hemis National Park - Home of the Snow Leopard

A bike trip from Delhi to Leh Ladakh is an adventure of a lifetime. The journey offers breathtaking views of the rugged Himalayan landscape, winding mountain roads, and serene valleys. However, what makes this delhi ladakh bike trip truly unforgettable is the opportunity to witness the rich and diverse wildlife of the region.

The journey ladakh bike trip from delhi takes you through several wildlife reserves and sanctuaries, offering an unparalleled opportunity to see rare and endangered species of animals. The Hemis National Park, located in the eastern part of Ladakh, is the largest national park in India and is a must-visit destination for wildlife enthusiasts. 

The park is home to several endangered and rare species of animals, including the elusive snow leopard. In ladakh trip by bike from delhi ,These majestic creatures are known to live in the higher elevations of the Himalayas and can be difficult to spot. However, with the help of experienced guides, you can increase your chances of catching a glimpse of these beautiful animals.

Apart from snow leopards, the Hemis National Park is also home to other species such as the Tibetan wolf, Himalayan black bear, and Eurasian lynx. The park is also a birdwatcher's paradise, with over 200 species of birds found in the region. The Tibetan snowcock, Himalayan griffon, and golden eagle are some of the most notable birds that can be spotted in the area.

The Changthang plateau, located in eastern Ladakh, is another great destination for wildlife enthusiasts. The plateau is home to the famous Kiang, or Tibetan wild ass. These horses are known for their resilience and adaptability to the harsh desert environment. They can often be spotted grazing in herds and can even be seen running at high speeds across the open plains.Apart from the Hemis National Park and the Changthang plateau, the Leh Ladakh region is also home to several other wildlife sanctuaries and reserves. 

The Tsomoriri Wetland Conservation Reserve is a must-visit for bird lovers, with several species of migratory birds visiting the area during the summer months. The Hanle Wildlife Sanctuary, located in the eastern part of Ladakh, is another great place to see wildlife such as the Tibetan gazelle, Tibetan argali, and Eurasian brown bear.

It is important to keep in mind that these animals are in their natural habitat and should be respected. It is crucial to practice responsible tourism and avoid disturbing the animals in any way. This includes refraining from making loud noises, leaving trash behind, or feeding the animals.

In conclusion, a ladakh trip from delhi on bike offers a unique opportunity to witness the diverse wildlife of the region. From the elusive snow leopards to the majestic wild horses, the wildlife experiences on this journey are sure to leave you with memories to last a lifetime. With the help of experienced guides and a commitment to responsible tourism, you can enjoy these experiences while also preserving the natural beauty and habitats of these animals. So, if you're planning a Leh Ladakh bike trip from Delhi, make sure to add these wildlife destinations to your itinerary.

#tour #travel #leh on bike #adventure #journey

[ozma914]

That Winter Driving Thing Again

(It's possible I was a little irate when I wrote this. Also, I'm hopeful the snowy weather is over for the season, but not convinced.)

 I contend that DWS (Driving While Stupid) should be a death penalty offense.

Of course, DWS isn't illegal to begin with, but we have to start somewhere.

Look, I’ve done foolish things while driving. I once backed an ambulance into a mailbox--and yeah, it was snowing, but it wasn't the snow's fault. I slid over a stop sign with a police office standing ten feet away. Snow was an accomplice in that case. I took a 1976 Pontiac Ventura off-road four wheeling – and no, Venturas were not FWD.

My youth may have been a reason, but not an excuse. I’ve slowed down, but others haven’t. Worse, the people who cause the mayhem often walk away uninjured, whining about how traumatized they are from the experience.

“It was horrible, all the kids in the back of my pickup flying through the air, and the nun’s body knocked out my tire alignment -- *sob* -- I almost lost my grip on my beer. Luckily I had my cell phone in my other hand, so I was able to call 911.”

"What? It looks fine."

 Sometimes–not always – drivers of big vehicles are most reckless. Why? Well, drivers of small cars are scared stiff. You think I’m going to tailgate a truck that has a spring loaded bumper aimed at my nose, and a “Honk if You Love Guns” bumper sticker? I don’t think so.

Second, many drivers of large vehicles thumb their noses at Mother Nature. “What’s a little freezing rain? I’ve got four wheel drive!” It’s fun to play the game where you’re passed by an SUV, then get to point and laugh at him when he lands in the ditch two miles on.

It’s the definition of False Sense of Security. Yes, maybe you and your truck will get through your 65 mph trip in blinding snow without incident. Angels watch over the foolish. Or maybe the next time will be the one when you’ll end up parked in somebody’s living room, with a Toyota under you that can now qualify as a throw rug.

Here’s a wild idea: Slow your ass down. A five thousand pound block of metal, at a speed that would terrify an Indy 500 racer of 75 years ago, is not under your control, even in the best weather conditions. Add to that rain, deer, and other idiot drivers, and you’ve got a recipe for bloody mayhem.

“That won’t happen to me,” you say. You’re a moron. Nobody’s last words were, “I have a feeling I’m going to get into a bad accident today.”

"Did you see that idiot?"

 Let’s break it down.

There are excellent drivers capable of maintaining control at warp 5, but they don’t live around here. If they did, they’d have died with a deer in their laps a long time ago. If you’re running late during a snowstorm and get behind a silver haired lady driving 35 mph, you have nobody to blame but yourself for not leaving on time.

Seat belts. They keep you from getting your head run over when you’re thrown out of your rolling SUV because you tried to pass that silver haired lady in a snow storm. Living is cool.

Carry a set of scales, and weigh yourself before getting into the car. If you’re not on the edge of starvation, wait until you get home to eat.

A lot of people try to excuse their accidents by saying they were “blinded by –“ fill in the blank. The sun, oncoming headlights, a brilliant idea, whatever.

We don’t let blind people drive. It’s what used to be called common sense, before attorneys had it banned. So if you’re behind the wheel and something blinds you – STOP DRIVING. Are you worried somebody behind you will be mad because you hit the brakes and pulled over? Fine – let them be mad at your very alive self.

They’re probably driving a four wheel drive, anyway.

Why do I take so many pictures from my porch? Because then I don't have to be in a car.

  (Remember, whenever you buy one of our books I can get gloves, and keep my fingers warm enough to write another one.)

http://markrhunter.com/ https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

#humor #Humorous #winterdriving #winter #driving #ice

[rishikeshwar]

WHAT TO EXPECT ON A BIKE TRIP TO LEH LADAKH

A bike trip to Leh Ladakh is an adventure of a lifetime. Here are some things you can expect on a bike trip to Leh Ladakh:

Stunning landscapes Explore by bike : Leh Ladakh is known for its breathtaking landscapes, including snow-capped mountains, deep valleys, and serene lakes. You can expect to see some of the most stunning landscapes in the world during your Bike trip to Leh Ladakh. 

Challenging terrain: The roads in Leh-Ladakh tour can be challenging, with steep climbs, narrow roads, and rough terrain. Be prepared for a physically demanding ride and ensure that your bike is in good condition. 

Local culture: Leh Ladakh has a unique culture influenced by Buddhism and Tibetan traditions. You can expect to see ancient monasteries, prayer flags, and experience the local way of life during your trip. 

Wildlife: Leh Ladakh is home to a variety of wildlife, including Himalayan ibex, snow leopards, and Tibetan wild asses. Keep your eyes peeled for wildlife sightings during your trip. 

Extreme weather: Leh Ladakh has a cold and dry climate, with temperatures dropping below freezing at night. You can expect extreme weather conditions during your trip, including strong winds, sudden rainfall, and snowstorms. 

Adventure sports: Leh Ladakh is a popular destination for adventure sports like trekking, rafting, and mountain biking. You can expect to find opportunities to engage in these activities during your Leh Ladakh bike trip. 

Remote areas: Leh Ladakh is a remote region, and some areas have limited facilities like petrol pumps, restaurants, and accommodations. Be prepared to carry necessary supplies with you during your Leh Ladakh Tour. 

Overall, a bike trip to Leh Ladakh is a unique and challenging experience that offers stunning landscapes, cultural experiences, and adventure activities. Be prepared for the challenges, and you will have a memorable journey. 

#lehladakh #biketrip #roadtrip

[khelinski]

Wastin’ Away

Aloha! How are you? I am good. In fact, I am great! I wake up every morning in paradise, graced by the sun and surrounded by beautiful palm trees: a picturesque portrait you should be jealous over! Not a bad life, I must say. How did I get here, though? I mean, I got a job I enjoy at a company I love. I fell in love with an amazing gal (and guess what, she loves me too)! It doesn’t get better than this. But the question remains, how did I get here? It’s like that Talking Heads song!  

           Guess I have to go back to the beginning, eh?

I lived in Michigan all my young life in a city called Buena Heights. I graduated in ’99. I had no college ambition. I didn’t want a huge student loan up my ass! I didn’t feel like the armed forces were for me. As one of my close friends, Anthony, would say, “Some people...just move on, and never look back.” We were sitting in Subway when he said that to me. What he said sounded like an excerpt to a song from a 1960s band. I actually looked it up afterward. It isn’t. But it should be!

           In truth, I did what I thought was best FOR ME! I had no destination when I first thought about leaving somewhere, that is until I watched a Wild On! episode on E! about Key West in Florida. It’s a small town, with big hopes! I longed for the atmosphere of it. My plan: I would get a local job somewhere, find a cheap apartment, and just live. I had three years’ worth of savings just for this very moment. My parents weren’t too happy about the whole ordeal. I didn’t let them bother me.  

           I packed my things in my ’92 Pontiac Trans Sport (a family heirloom), and just drove. I drove I-75 all the way down. I’ve had road trips up north with friends before. But I’ve never driven this kind of distance. The merging(s) with all the big cities were pretty nerve-racking, hoping for dear life that I don’t hit the car next to me that was about to swerve into my lane. I think the biggest nail-biting experience was Atlanta and how I-75 just splits in two. Who in the blue hell created that merge?

           I was amazed by how close the mountains were to the roads as I was passing them by through Kentucky and Tennessee. I had Pink Floyd Animals in the CD player at the time, and it was as if David Gilmour’s guitar licks during the mid-section of “Dogs” was in-sync with the passing mountains. Quite a psychedelic experience, man!

Once I got down there after three days of driving, let me tell you, it was unreal. This was my first time in Florida. I’ve always loved the hot summer days in Michigan, opposed to every day before or after those hot days. But Florida weather was so much different. The sticky hot air melted your skin right off! You suffocated as your nose was plugged up because it was so f’n hot out! Some like it hot, though. And that would be me! If I could fly to Venus, I would walk on the surface of that planet with just a pair of shorts, flip flops, and a t-shirt.

           This was my first time seeing palm trees up close. The light tan bark trailing to long green branches looked like an exotic flower on a tree. And the wind that went through the palm branches was a sight to see. There was even a sound that was made with every gust of wind, like a small waterfall. When the wind hit the branches, it made a chhhhh sound.

           In my opinion, palm trees were the most beautiful trees on Earth, especially in front of a clear sunset. I never really knew what serenity meant until I saw my very first sunset in Florida! After the sunset and the night sky emerged, I had a thought cross my mind. “There is no place like home!” And this was my home! This was where I wanted to be, man!

           This! This place!

           Although I had money, I slept in my van for the first couple of days I was down there. On the third day, the cops busted me. They thought I was some junkie or something. Can you believe that? Not everyone that drove a van was a dope-fiend! And I told them that too. Real proud of it! A $70 ticket got handed to me as a souvenir!

Getting back to my story, Key West was very small. It was mainly a port for boats to come and go as they please. Certainly not exactly what I pictured at all. I walked into a few of the local bars, looking for work. No one would even look at me since I didn’t have a place to live (minor setback), and I wasn’t 21 (major setback). I walked into a place called Wastin’ Away, expecting the same routine from the other joints. There was something quite unique about this place, though. All the other hole-in-the-wall bars had the same bland, stale beer aroma. Wastin’ Away had a scent of sea salt. That was right. Sea salt.   

The pink exterior of the building sets the place apart from the other bars. There was a plane right outside the bar, like that feeling of an escape to paradise. But I was in paradise!

           I walked in, asked for an application. They said they didn’t have any. The person I was talking to was a greeter, quite the looker too! I knew I didn’t have the looks to impress, but I had the charm. And I charmed her enough to see the manager-in-charge. The manager was a woman, another looker. She was petite, seemed to be in her late 20s, and had a strange, outsider, look to her. Like she wasn’t one of the locals. She was hardly tanned (whereas, 90 percent of the locals I’d encountered, had a tan of some kind). She ushered me into one of the booths, and we chatted for a bit. I told her the condensed story of my life, and she was quite impressed by the fact that I drove all the way from Michigan without a place to stay. As we talked, she smoked a cigarette. The smoke came to my face a few times, and I had to fight the urge to cough. I hated smoking. I told her, although I was not a local, I intended on staying and that I wasn’t a drifter. She said to me that not having a place to stay might be a problem If I found a place by the end of the week (it was Wednesday when I had the interview), I would be able to start Monday as a ‘service assistant’ (Wastin’ Away’s version of a dishwasher). I wasn’t quite thrilled about washing dishes, and I certainly didn’t drive all the way from Michigan to wash dishes.

           But hey, a job was a job. And I needed a steady income, STAT.

           I looked around the place. It was a fairly decent size establishment. There were looped The Beach Boys, Bob Marley, and feel good summer tunes playing in the background. The booth’s tables had maps of various islands. I found out later on, some of the locals’ jokes that the islands on the tables represent all the places the owner of the bar has gotten laid at. I never really met the owner. James Bufet? Buffet? Buffett? Went something like that. He only came around once every few years on the days I wasn’t working!

           There were palm trees all around the place. The girls working there were cute (especially one in particular, who was filling ketchup bottles; I didn’t know her name, but I was in complete awe over her.

           “Man is she beautiful,” I thought: tanned, short, with glasses, and gave the appearance that her mind was somewhere else). And that sea salt smell. I loved that smell the second I walked into the place (and every time since). I could get used to this place. I shook the manager’s hand and took the job.  

           That day, I looked around for a decent apartment. Found a one-room for $550. That was the cheapest rent I could find. The location was nice, just shy of a mile from Wastin’ Away. I moved all my stuff into the apartment and felt at home. I opened the window and inhaled the humid air. I heard a little bit of shuffling from the other room. I checked it out and found some friends. I had cockroaches, big ones, in my new pad. Maybe they would sing for me, like in Joe’s Apartment! It’s one of the drawbacks of livin’ in the south.

           Speaking of which, I called my parents from a payphone outside the apartment complex (didn’t have a cell phone then), and let them know the scoop. They both continued pressing me on with the big speech about life. I told them for the first time in my 18-years of existence how happy and excited I was. They told me how young and dumb I was. Gave me another speech about life, which included the whole, 'when I was your age’ spiel. I followed-through with the obligated “uh-huh,” “right,” “uh-huh,” “right.” I changed it up a few times and added, “You’re right,” while thinking, “You’re wrong.”  

           I knew they meant well. But no one was going to change my mind about this. No ONE! I was bullheaded. Washing dishes wasn’t exactly what I wanted to do. But I was away from home, I was feeding myself, and I was taking care of myself. It had been a few days, but I already felt peace of mind.  

           Not going to lie though, the very second I walked into Wastin’ Away my first day on the job, I hated it. Absolutely hated it. I walked into the back area and into the dish room, which ended up being my office for the next two years. The dish room was already backed up, and it was only 4 o’clock. No one in the place washed the dishes. The managers did once in a while if they were low on something. But otherwise, they just let dishes sat on top of other dishes. Traces of food would still be on the dishes, stacked on top of other dishes. The second the servers picked up plates from the tables, they would drop it off in the dish room. There was a trashcan right near the hose, but nobody thought to wipe the food excess off the plate into the trash. It just sat there. I looked at it with disgust. A thought popped in my head about walking out. I took a big deep breath and just toughened up.

           I took the first plate, wiped the food off it into the trash, and washed it down with the flexible hose that spiraled and looped for easy access, and then placed it on a large brown tray. The stack decreased, and soon, I had a tray full of dishes. I slid the tray into the large dishwasher that looked like a smaller version of a car wash service. I lowered the contraption with a lever, and voila! The noise of the dishwasher had a loud hum to it. And that was my job there for the first couple of years.

That fall, Hurricane Irene hit Key West. It was my first experience with a hurricane. It was pretty scary with a lot of wind, rain. Wastin’ Away (as well as the other local businesses) all closed. I was told to evacuate, but I had no place to go. I ended up staying at a local shelter for the duration of the storm. It was like a winter storm in Michigan but on a whole different level. People grabbed bottled water and food like it was the end of the world. Like a tornado drill, you couldn’t be by any windows. It lasted a couple of days. When it was all over, all the trees were piled in the streets and sidewalks. Some houses were damaged, but it wasn’t severe. The highway signs had the worst of it.

I kept to myself that first year. I even had a special spot I found where I would hang out most of the time and watched the sunset on my days off. Most people wasted their free time playing video games all day or shopping at malls. Me, I spent all my free time here, watching the same beautiful sun retire until it was ready to grace its high beams the next day. Most people don’t even take notice of the simple yet majestic sights around them. And the best part, you didn’t need to max out your cards or dress to impress for those magical moments. All you needed to do was just open up your eyelids once in a while, and be entertained by the world’s finest show: a sun curtsey for you.    

           I tried to make conversation with some of the ladies that worked at Wastin’ Away (especially the beautiful ketchup girl), but because I was simply put, a dishwasher, I was below them. It was bad enough how degrading the job was. I thought I left high school with all the arrogant cliques that came with it. The only person that lowered themselves to talk to me was Sara. I would hang out in the manager’s office in the back, having cigarette smoke blown in my face (as I hid my disgust for ciggie smoke) and listened to Sara’s nonsense. I didn’t mind it, really. We clicked as friends and had some amusing conversations. In fact, I vividly remember one conversation in particular. She told me:

           “Whatever you do in life, don’t let anyone ever trickfuck you!”

           “Trickfuck?” I asked.

           “Yeah. Trickfuck.”

           I still looked puzzled. So, she explained it to me.

           “When you get screwed over, you get fucked, right? I mean completely totally fucked, and not the good kind of fuck either.”

           “Sure,” I added.

           “Well, when you get fucked…completely utterly fucked, you get tricked. Trickfuck!”

           Now, the conversation wasn’t really relevant to anything in particular, nor was it connected to the story here. But when I think back of my early years at the Keys, I think back to this conversation with Sara. I don’t know why. Maybe with how random it was!

Once I survived my first year (hurricane and all!), people started taking notice of me. The cooks there were having conversations with me about nonsense. All except the one. The one that had his shirt unbuttoned a couple of buttons down to reveal his gross chest hair (not exactly something you would like cooking your meat!) And he would always sing off-key, really horribly. But I guess if David Lee Roth could make a career out of singing badly, so could the cook, even if he was confined in the kitchen! He always had a toothpick in his mouth as he was singing. Not sure what that was all about!

           After my second year of being a ‘service assistant,’ Sara decided to promote me to cook. That asshole cook got terminated for sexual harassment. I guess he got a little too close and personal with one of the underage greeters. That greeter told her dad. And the dad came up to the restaurant and started causing all kinds of hell. I wasn’t there that day, but I had heard from the grapevine that there was a fight that went from the kitchen to the dining area, to outside on the deck, and finally, in the water. That ended his career as a badly-singin’-cook! No word what he was up to these days, though I’ve been waiting every year to see if he made it on American Idol or The Voice!

I felt so proud to be climbing the ranks. By this time, my family decided to come to visit me in Key West. I was able to get a bigger apartment (somewhat cockroach-free), but was afraid I would get the same long-winded speeches I received before.  

           “You are wasting away your life.”  

           But their trip was actually a pleasant surprise. My parents got along with me; they saw how happy I was. And it ended smoothly with hugs all around.  

I was getting some attention from the ladies now that my office was no longer a dish room but rather a kitchen. I guess when you were a dishwasher, ahem, service assistant, you were a piece of shit in the scheme of things. But once you were promoted, cook, you were now ‘in.’

           You had a prestigious title, and you took full advantage of the perks. The perks WERE the waitresses! Most were real cute, but not really my type. All things considered though, it was very easy to get laid. But I didn’t bother. There was one that I was interested in (you know, beautiful ketchup girl), but I didn’t really pursue her at that time. I guess I was still shy, hiding in my own little shell. And I was completely in-tune with my new job. Besides, anytime I approached her, she never gave me the time of day, which was known, throughout the place, as her ‘cold treatment,’ but never mind about that right now.   

When you were a cook, you had the power of creating the most awesomest meal on the face of the planet. The tourists that would come in would remember Key West not because of the palm trees, beaches, or the hot-hot sun, but because of their margaritas and cheeseburgers. But it wasn’t just any cheeseburgers I'm talking about here. No, your typical bland McDonalds’ Big Macs with cheese won’t be found here. We’re talking about cheeseburgers in paradise! Those burgers had two decadent buns put together over a burger that was quite possibly a slab of heaven! I became a professional in every sense of the word! And what was also nice, being able to cook your own meal your own way.  

           I stayed in the kitchen for two years, racking up four years at Wastin’ Away. Sara decided to move to New Jersey. She fell in love with a singer she met at Lead East, which is an annual event in New Jersey involving various 1950s nostalgia, including Doo-Wop music. Hey, it was her way of wastin’ away!

           Once she left, the general manager had hinted to me about being her replacement. I had considered it but wanted to wait a while. I’d been behind-the-scenes all this time; I had no idea what life was like on the floor. That was when I decided I wanted to shake that saltshaker up and get trained as a server. The general manager thought it was a great idea and hired a new cook. I should point out that there were seven service assistants since I got promoted to cook two years prior. That was why I was able to climb the Wastin’ Away-embossed ladder, I lasted this long (and had helped the dishwasher whenever I could).          

Life as a server was so much different. I carried that piece of paper/pen like it was my lifeline. Remembering people’s orders got confusing, and the specifics of orders. But it was interesting, a different perspective of things. I started out cleaning people’s dishes after they were done with it. Then I ended up being the one making the dishes for those people. And now, I was writing what the people want on their dishes!  

           The tips were sometimes rough. The locals rarely stiffed us. They knew better. But the tourists. Those dumb tourists. They usually were stingy with their money: their vacation money. If there was, say, a $19.09 bill, most (if not, all) tourists would leave a $20. Pathetic! There were some days I made just 5 dollars the entire day. I guess people took that whole, ‘don’t tip the server’ bit from Reservoir Dogs, a little too serious. I certainly missed my cook’s pay! That was dropped when they put me on the floor! But those dumb tourists wouldn’t get the last laugh!  

           Robberies happened quite often around town. Locals-gone-bad would rob unsuspecting tourists that would be stupid enough to keep a large assortment of money on them. Luckily, none of the employees at Wastin’ Away ever got robbed (knock on wood). I think maybe, just maybe, because the locals-gone-bad knew we really didn’t make much (certainly didn’t carry as much money on us as the dumb tourists did), they knew better than to bother us.  

           Averaging a night was all factoring what days, what shifts, the sections, and the seasons of the moment. The off-peak seasons weren’t great. Some nights, it was a ghost town. Peak-seasons were great. One night alone, I walked away with about $250 in my pocket. Most nights during peak season were around the $110 mark. The hours were a pain in the ass, though. There were many days I had to do a double (would open, look forward to leaving for the day, found out someone called-in, and then would be stuck with their shift).  

           When you worked in the back, you missed all the fun. Once you got on the floor, you would see the fun first-hand. And a good majority of that fun was witnessing the strange people that came by.

 One guy got really drunk, went outside, and tried to get into the Wastin’ Away plane across from the restaurant. When he realized that he couldn’t take flight, he decided to piss from the deck into the water below. He was off-balanced and slipped into the water. I couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to swim in your own piss! The cops came by and fished him out of the water. A customer nearby told me afterward, what he caught the drunken guy said to the cops as they arrested him. “It’s five o five, somewhere!” Weird!

           Another incident involved a woman that sat by herself, ordered Key West Pink Jumbo Shrimp. The second she got her order, she threw a handful of shrimp in the air, got up, and left the restaurant. Weird!

           On occasion, there will be that oddball drunk that would actually talk to their drink, as if the drink itself was talking back to them. Weird!

           The strangest of strange was when a male customer who was clearly a crossdresser (who named himself Marilyn Monroe) came in every so often. He was one of our regulars nobody liked to serve. All the girls were afraid of him. I didn’t mind him. I thought he added color to the place! And the conversations I’ve had with him were completely harmless. He just wanted someone to talk to, that was all. He freaked the girls out by saying he would go to cemeteries, grab the flowers from graves, come back, and hand the flowers to them. What was really strange about him wasn’t so much his attire (or even his approach to the other employees), but his behavior. I noticed one time, him scribbling all over his napkin, as follows:

They don’t talk to me. They need to talk to me. Why won’t they talk to me? They should talk me. They will talk to me.

Even I got a little freaked out. He finally got kicked out when he was caught going into the female restroom. Word has it; he got kicked out of all the other bars in the area for doing the same exact thing. Very weird!

By the time I got on the floor, all the waitresses/greeters/everyone in the entire place took notice of me. The one I was most interested in. The beautiful ketchup girl. Her name’s Lynn, and ever since I walked into Wastin’ Away five years ago (oh, geez, I forgot to mention, it has been five years now), I had been crushin’ on her. Ever since I saw her fill ketchup. For a moment, ketchup seemed sexy to me! In fact, I got a new slogan for Heinz. Ready for it? Drum roll, please!  

           Love at first sight.

           Okay, kind of lame!  

           Anyway, Lynn had a reputation. A reputation most guys at Wastin’ Away warned me about. A reputation of taking your balls, squeezing them for dear life, and kicking them sideways for good measure, as one poor fella explained. I’ve heard she was a bat out of hell, and was unleashed simply because Hell couldn’t sustain her. There was a rumor floating around when I started that one of the male customers came in and asked if he could take two pictures of her. She asked him why. And he said, so he can have one picture in his room and another picture outside the street to attract more customers into the restaurant. The second he finished the word, restaurant, she kicked his balls so hard, I guess he needed stitches afterward.  

           I never understood why these rumors had surrounded her. The times I’ve worked with her on the floor, she seemed genuinely nice and sweet. We never talked on a personal level. But I never felt that badass evil presence all the guys proclaim she had. I’ve heard from Jess, one of the bartenders, that none of it was actually true. All the guys made that stuff up through the years because every guy that asked Lynn out would get the ‘cold Lynn treatment.’ I asked what that was. And the only response I got, “you’ll find out if you ever ask Lynn out on a date.” So I tested those waters. After all, Lynn was a nickname for a waterfall; she seemed as peaceful as one.

           So one night, after we closed up shop, I went up to her and asked if she wanted to get a drink or something with me after work. She looked at me with her beautiful brown eyes and a sincere smile. She didn’t say anything. Just looked at me. She blinked a few times. It seemed as though she was considering it. She then looked down, put her hand in her pocket, grabbed a card, and handed the card to me. I looked at it and then looked at her. She then smiled, and walked to a nearby table with a washcloth, washing the surface of the table. I looked at the card that appeared to be a business card, and it read:

Not interested in dating right now, so thanks but no thanks – Lynn

I guess that was what the ‘Lynn cold treatment’ meant. I smiled. This card certainly wasn’t the badass imagery I had heard. But I admired it. It proved that she was a headstrong young woman that could hold her own. I should point out, neither one of us realized at that moment she handed the card to me, how significant we would be to each other. However, at the time, she thought I was just another asshole that wanted a piece of her.

           I proved her wrong one day when I found her by herself in the break room, crying. We both had to open that day. I walked in; I could hear sniffling tears as her head was down on the table. I went up to her with concern and asked if she was all right. She looked up at me and wiped the tears off her cheeks. Her beautiful brown eyes were blue.  

           I offered her a hug. She took it. She got up and approached me. My arms were wide, and our bodies met. We hugged. Her body warmth felt good against mine. Our hug wasn’t the awkward kind. It was a real, serious-duty one. She pushed away from me, had a slight smile on her face, and looked straight at me. She then looked down, grabbed a card from her pocket, and handed it to me. I took it from her. She walked away and started doing those opening rituals every restaurant went through! I looked at the card, and it read:

I think I’ll take you up with that drink – Lynn

I must say, it had put a big o’ smile on my face! In fact, I had to read the card a few times just to make sure what I was reading was legit! She didn’t say much during our shift together. But she didn’t ignore me like she always had done before. I guess that counted for something, right?!

           Once we got off, we walked out together. She asked me where we were going. I didn’t say anything at first. She took the hint that it was a surprise. Not sure if she liked surprises. This was really a first for both of us. What I had in mind was my spot. The spot that I never took anyone to before. I was taking her to my island if you will.

           We sat next to each other on the beach. You could see everything. The lighthouse was straight ahead. You could see Wastin’ Away from a distance. The ripples in the water, and the sound they made. The beautiful palm trees and the wind that blew through the exotic branches, providing that soothing chhh sound. Everything about the area had a romantic Feng Shui about it. There was just something about it. I’ve had many sunsets at this very spot. I’ve tried other spots along the beach. Didn’t hold a candle to this exact spot.  

           “This is very beautiful. For how long I’ve lived here, I don’t think I’ve ever noticed how beautiful this place really is,” said Lynn. Lynn, with her sexy voice. Lynn, the beautiful.  

           “How long have you been here?” I asked. We both sat down next to each other on the beach. I had a couple of beers with me as we left Wastin’ Away. I gave her one. She popped the lid off the bottle and started drinking it. She gulped half of the bottle. She then told me her life story.

           “My parents got divorced a while back. I stayed with my dad. He went through a Mosquito Coast period in his life, where he just wanted a new beginning. We lived in Georgia, and he just wanted to “getaway,” as he would say. So he booked. I went with him. Been here ever since. Ten years, I want to say.”  

           “I also wanted to getaway. Drove down here from Michigan five years ago. Been wasting away ever since,” I said. She smirked as I said, ‘wasting away.’ I think she caught the reference! Her smirk dissolved.  

           “So you probably want to know why I was a little misty earlier today, right?” she asked. I didn’t reply. I just sat there. My glance went back and forth from the beach to her. My ear was attentive.  

           “On top of my hours at Wastin’ Away, I also work at a retirement home. On top of that, I am going to school. My major is nursing. I wanted to do it all my life. No, wait; ummm…that’s a lie. For a short period of time, I wanted to be a coroner.” She giggled at that moment. I didn’t say anything. I had a feeling she wasn’t finished spilling her soul out.

           “So here I am, working all these hours and sure, the money is good. But I just…I feel overwhelmed, you know? I feel…I feel lost. I don’t really like what I am doing at the retirement home. And because of that, I am unsure if I even want to continue with nursing. All I do is fake smiles and pretend to be happy. I do other things too, I guess. You know. I bowl. I go to the gym. I try to focus on other things. But it is just so hard. I have no time for friends or things I like to do. I don’t even have time for a relationship. That’s why I give all these cards away! It’s my way of telling the world, ‘I just can’t right now.’ I know what the other guys say about me. I look at it like this. No one bothers me. No attachments of any kind. And no hurt feelings later on, with, ‘well, you don’t spend enough time with me’.”

           “But you wish things were different, though?” I asked. She slowly nodded her head.

           “Once in a while, there comes a guy that shows a deep interest in me. And I just, I freak out! Most guys are assholes that just want to get into my pants. But once in a while, there is someone that wants more. But one thing I learned just working at Wastin’ Away, everyone wants something from someone no matter what. So what do you want? Huh? It’s very obvious you have a thing for me. The way you look at me. It’s nice someone shows respect as well as interest. But there is always a hidden agenda. So what’s yours?”

           This caught me off guard. I really couldn’t think of anything. She sensed that. But she didn’t get up or anything. She just gulped down the rest of her beer.

           “Friendship,” I replied.  

           “And nothing else?” she cleverly added.

           Uh oh! This was a trap of being ‘just friends.’ And I would be lying if I told her all I wanted to be was ‘just friends.’ So now, the jig was up. I had to confess my intentions. And the best way to go about it was just being honest with her.

           “I would be lying if I told you I wanted to be just friends. Truth is Lynn, I like you. Always have. Ever since I walked into that restaurant and saw you, I had a thing for you. And I remember that day vividly. The day you were filling ketchup bottles. Your hair was longer then. We never talked much, but yeah, I always had a thing for you, which is why I never approached any of the other girls.”

           At that moment, she was actually blushing. But she didn’t interrupt me. Nor did she get up. Not once. The sun was still up.  

           “You said this was beautiful. All of this.” I pointed to the area, the sun, the beach, and the lighthouse.

           “But the fact is: you are beautiful. And I am not saying that just to get in your pants, Lynn. I am saying that as sincere as possible. All the waitresses that work there…” I pointed at Wastin’ Away.

           “…aren’t as beautiful as you. All the tourists that come in. Some are pretty. Sure. Yeah. But not beautiful. Not, ‘Lynn-beautiful.’ I wish there was a word to describe you. Beautiful just isn’t as adequate. But it’s the best I can come up with.”  

           She didn’t say anything. She didn’t even look at me. She looked away. She looked at the beach. Perhaps she was looking passed the beach. I continued.  

           “I don’t really know what you are going through. I work 40 hours at Wastin’ Away and spend the rest of the time here. I never went to school. My family hated me for it. But they visit me from time to time here. They see how well I am doing and how happy I am. I really didn’t think I would be here for very long, you know. But something just compelled me to stay. I always believed Wastin’ Away gave me luck. And here I am talking to the most beautiful and coolest woman on the planet!”

           Once again, she looked away. Not sure if any of this registered. Not even sure if I was blowing it. The beginnings of a sunset emerged in the sky. It caught Lynn’s attention.

           “I come here on my days off. There’s just something about the sunset. Something about the sending off of the day, and the prospects of the next day.”

           She looked at me and smiled. Then she placed her head on my shoulder.

           “It’s beautiful,” she said. That was the last thing we both said for a while. We let the sunset do the talking.  

           Once it got dark, she said something to me. It was actually quite surprising. She broke the silence. But it wasn’t an awkward silence. It was a comfortable silence. The sound of ripples in the water and the palm tree chhhh sound made the whole thing perfect. The circular light from the lighthouse was enchanting. But not as enchanting as Lynn. Beautiful Lynn.

           “Soooo…what should I do?” she asked. She glanced at me as she said it.

           “Do what makes you happy,” I replied.  

           That was the last thing we both said for a couple of hours. I think this was the first time in a long time for Lynn to be able to relax. She didn’t seem to be in a hurry to get home.  

           After about a couple of hours, she got up. I got the gist that it was time to go. I offered to walk her to her house. She took that offer, and without a card in hand! We both walked in silence. What else was there to say, really? The distance was about half a mile from where we were. As we got to the front of the door, she turned toward me and looked at me. The same look she gave me the first time she gave me the ‘Lynn cold treatment’ card. We were afoot from each other. I couldn’t help staring into her beautiful brown eyes. My heart was racing. Butterflies were in the pit of my stomach. I could feel them flapping their wings.

           Lynn looked down, reached for a card from her back pocket, and handed it to me with a smile on her face.  

           “Uh, oh,” I thought! I took the card from her hand…and read it to myself…I motioned my lips as if I was reading it out loud.

 This is the moment where you can kiss me now – Lynn

Before I could respond to her card, she laid one on me. It was…magical. It was…Fourth of July fireworks. It was…Christmas morning. It was…heaven on Earth. It was…simply put, wonderful in every sense of the word. My hand touched her smooth face. The kiss didn’t last long. She pulled away, making a smock noise. She smiled and then kissed me on the cheek.

           “Goodnight,” she said.

           “Goodnight,” I said.

           She turned around, opened the front door, and went inside. She then turned toward me from inside, giving me one last look before closing the door.  

           “I just took your advice,” she said.

           “And what’s that?” I asked, still dazed from the kiss.

           “I just did what made me happy,” she said with a smile on her face. She then closed the door. I stared at the door for a moment or two. Then I walked back to the spot.

           My spot.  

           My island.

A relationship was blossoming. But it blossomed very slowly. We both agreed to take things one step at a time. She still wanted to pursue her schooling, as well as continue with her second job. I supported her all the way. We saw each other whenever we had time. I never minded her busy schedule. If people wanted something very badly, they made it work. We both made it work. It had its complications like all relationships do. And yeah, there were some rocky moments, let me tell you. Trying to keep things a secret at work was one of them. But eventually, everyone found out, and everyone was okay with it. We became the cutest couple at Wastin’ Away.

As for me, I decided to get some bartending experience. The general manager pushed me once again to take up management. Maybe I was stalling. But I just didn’t feel I was ready. I was still on a mission, I suppose. And bartending was really the only thing left that I hadn’t done yet.

           Bartending was by far the most fun of all the jobs I’ve had at Wastin’ Away; it was a lot more personal than waiting tables. It had such a Cocktail feel to it; it almost felt like a cliché in itself! The twirling of drinks. The different concoctions. And let’s not forget the customers themselves. Most people (if not all) that sat at the bar wanted to have a conversation with you. As a bartender, the tips did increase, but you often wondered if you should also be getting paid a therapist salary. Many people talked about their current divorce(s) they had or talked about considering getting a divorce (what was strange, the majority of those people that talked about such things, were on their vacation with their families and spouses). I didn’t mind the chitchat, really. When you lend an ear, the tips start comin’! 

After about six months of bartending, I finally took the management position. About that time, Lynn was close to finishing with school. When she graduated, I proposed to her at our spot. It was very romantic to pop that important, life-changing question at the very spot we fell in love. It was no longer my spot; it was our spot.  

           Soon after the engagement, Hurricane Wilma hit. That was the year hurricanes tore the southern part of America to pieces. And that got me/Lynn thinking about relocating a little further up Florida. So I had asked if I could transfer to the Wastin’ Away store (restaurant lingo) in Orlando. The plus side in things, we were a little closer to Lynn’s family in Georgia.

           Before we left, I wanted to see our spot one last time. Lynn and I saw our last sunset at the Keys together. Her head was against my shoulder, like the first night together in front of the sunset. She looked down, grabbed a card from her pocket, and handed it to me. I read it out loud.

I love you. – Lynn

We packed our things and headed to Orlando. I had heard all kinds of things about the Orlando Wastin’ Away. I heard it was quite different. It was attached to one of the theme parks in the area. We got there, walked inside Wastin’ Away. I took one big whiff and smelled the sea salt. The Wastin’ Away sea salt. The joint was slightly different, though. I couldn’t explain it well enough. Just felt different. I also didn’t care for the whole fast pace atmosphere outside Wastin’ Away. I am used to looking at the waters from the deck. Now I saw nothing but theme park land, everywhere!

           Meh!

           The management position was very different than anything I had ever done. The responsibility was huge. But I took it with great ease, and everyone was quite fond of me.

           Lynn was doing great herself. She was starting her career in nursing and got a job at the Celebration Hospital (which was outside Disney property on 192 near the I-4 exit). We finally got married as soon as we were adjusted. My family came down from Michigan. Her family came down from Georgia. It was a bash like no other. And where did we have it? Where else but Wastin’ Away in Key West?!? It was a day to remember.  

           After I heard ‘you may kiss the bride,’ I laid one on her. Magical. Fourth of July fireworks. Christmas morning. Heaven on Earth. Wonderful in every sense of the word. From the first time we kissed to the present day, I still had that sense of being on cloud nine. I often wondered if she felt the same way. But being selfish as I was, I didn’t wish to ruin it for myself! We went to New Zealand for our honeymoon, and it was AWESOME! It was amazing what Middle Earth looked like in person!

           After we got back to our normal routine in Orlando, I was getting restless. I didn’t mind the theme park life, but I missed the stillness of Key West. Lynn wasn’t really digging the hospital she was working for either. The reality was: Lynn also missed the Key West life. So we moved back. And luckily, I came right in time. The general manager ended up retiring, and I ended up taking the spot! WOW! And Lynn got a job at the local hospital.

All and all, we have a pretty good life. I remember a poster I saw once at school when I lived in Michigan. It had a picture of palm trees on it and some quote that made you think, “Wow, that’s inspiring!”

           It read:

The poor long for riches.

The rich long for heaven.

But the wise desire tranquility.

I have found tranquility in Key West. I love the simplicity of being out in the sun all day without a care in the world: just relaxing. And I love my job! The sea scent got me every time. The silly tourists got me every time. The Beach Boys in the background got me every time. And Lynn. My beautiful Lynn. She got me every time.

           The truth was, I’d rather be wastin’ away here than anywhere else in the world! When I was acquainted with people, and they had asked me (like clockwork) how I was doing, I’d always say, “livin’ the dream.” 99.9 percent of the time, they laughed. But I meant it. How many people on this rotating rock could say that with a straight face and meant it? Could you?        

K.H.; January 31, 2011 – June 28, 2011.

#self written #wastin' away #short story #margaritaville #key west #love #black clouds & silver linings

[trash-mammall]

thinking about how at some point dirk told todd about blackwing in the first season and we didn’t get to see that conversation

#dirk doesn’t mention them At All basically on screen but todd knows that the military ppl are blackwing when talking to farah #i just wanna know when and how #like was it after dirk came back from getting the lightbulb out of the car ? right after the encounter ? #or was it during their wild ass road trip ? #listen i just want to know please please please #dghda #dirk gently’s holistic detective agency #trash.txt

[joeygoeshollywood]

My 25 Favorite Films of 2021

I’ll be honest... 2021 was a pretty terrible year, but there were plenty of good movies.

 Here are my 25 favorites of 2021:

25. Nobody 

No one could ever imagine Bob Odenkirk starring in an action flick, but he defied all odds in Nobody. He manages to bring humor to a gun fight as a family man who gets tangled with the Russian mob. With the well-choreographed fight scenes and the unapologetic violence, Nobody is one the most bad-ass films of the year. 

24. Red Rocket

Indie filmmaker Sean Baker (Tangerine, The Florida Project) is back with perhaps his best film yet. Red Rocket follows a washed-up porn star trying to reboot his life in his Texas hometown. Simon Rex returns out of nowhere in a potential comeback role as the selfish but charming Mikey Saber who tries taking every advantage of the people in his life to get ahead. Red Rocket is wild, raunchy, and quite memorable. 

23. Free Guy

One of the only imaginative blockbusters of 2021, Free Guy takes audiences into the video game world where avatars discover the infinite possibilities of free will. Ryan Reynolds stars in his best film in years as the happy-go-lucky Guy who realizes that he’s more than just a background character. This film offers a  ton of action and a ton of laughs the whole family can enjoy. 

22. In the Heights

The perfect summer movie of 2021, In the Heights is a fresh film adaption from musical giant Lin-Manuel Miranda. Director Jon M. Chu (Crazy Rich Asians) managed to take the lively music from the Broadway hit and match it with dazzling visuals plus he put together such a strong ensemble. In the Heights will put a smile on your face and have your feet tapping. 

21. Werewolves Within 

A rare successful video game-to-film adaptation, Werewolves Within is a fun murder mystery comedy where a classic whodunnit is given a supernatural spin. Sam Richardson is widely known for his comedic supporting roles in various projects, but rarely is he given the chance to be the leading man, which this comedy proves he can certainly do. He does benefit from a rich ensemble cast that will keep you laughing throughout. 

20. The Tragedy of Macbeth

It’s no surprise that Joel Coen, Shakespeare, and Denzel Washington and Frances McDormand are a winning combination. The Tragedy of Macbeth is one of the year’s most visually striking films. Between the stunning cinematography, the haunting production design and a pair of powerhouse performances from two of the greatest actors of our generation, this is perhaps one of the greatest film adaptation of any Shakespearian play. 

19. The Power of the Dog

Jane Campion, the Oscar-winning filmmaker behind The Piano, returns to the film director’s chair after over a decade with The Power of the Dog, a haunting western drama filled with powerhouse performances from Benedict Cumberbatch, Kirsten Dunst, Jesse Plemons, and rising star Kodi Smit-McPhee.

18. C’mon C’mon

Joaquin Phoenix and newcomer Woody Norman both give raw performances in a road-trip family drama masterfully written by Mike Mills (Beginners, 20th Century Women). Phoenix plays a journalist who rekindles a relationship with his estranged nephew during a family emergency. C’mon C’mon almost feels philosophical the way it tackles complicated family dynamics, which Mills handles tenderly as the director. 

17. The Harder They Fall

The Harder They Fall is a bold, fun, exciting western featuring a powerhouse cast of nearly every trending Black actor in Hollywood from Idris Elba, Regina King, Jonathan Mayers, Zazie Beetz, LaKeith Stanfield to Delroy Lindo. This Netflix film is an adrenaline rush from start to finish with some of the year’s best choreographed action sequences. It appears filmmaker Jeymes Samuel may have gifted the streaming giant with a promising new franchise. 

16. Zack Snyder’s Justice League

The fans have spoken and they finally received the long-awaited “Snyder Cut” of Justice League, which was utterly butchered in 2017 by Warner Bros. and Joss Whedon. Zack Snyder’s artistic vision was able to flourish in what was really a superhero epic. And the inclusion of Superman’s supergalactic foe Darkseid, who was completely cut out from the original release, makes Thanos look like he came from Sesame Street. The Snyder Cut is an Olympian triumph that sadly did not get the proper treatment it deserved years ago. And if you watched the four-hour film uninterrupted like I did, pat yourself on the back. 

15. Pig

Nicholas Cage gives his best performance in decades as a truffle hunter in search of his beloved pig who was kidnapped from his secluded home in the wilderness. While comparisons to John Wick are common, Pig is actually quite a moving drama from newcomer Michael Sarnoski. 

14. The Green Knight

The Green Knight is a visually-stunning medieval fantasy adapted from a 14th-century poem about the nephew of King Arthur and his quest to confront a life-or-death challenge from a mythical being. Dev Patel reminds audiences that he is an actor capable of any genre. 

13. Nine Days

One of the most underrated films of the year was Nine Days, a thought-provoking drama that tackles the concept of life itself. Winston Duke proves he has the dramatic chops to be a leading man playing a man who interviews candidates to become human souls to be born. He’s joined by a strong ensemble which includes Zazie Beetz, Benedict Wong, Tony Hale, and Bill Skarsgârd. Nine Days is a deep, emotionally-enriching feature debut from writer-director Edson Oda. 

12. The Suicide Squad

Never has a film franchise go from absolutely horrible with its first installment with truly awesome with its sequel. The Suicide Squad is an unpredictable, action-packed hilarious entry into the DC Cinematic Universe thanks to writer-director James Gunn, who helmed the Guardians of the Galaxy franchise. Margot Robbie returns with her best outing yet as Harley Quinn and is joined by a brilliant roster of B-list villains with standout performances by Edris Alba, John Cena, and Sylvester Stallone. 

11. Bad Trip

Laugh-out-loud comedies have sadly become so rare, but Netflix’s Bad Trip filled the void this year that replicates the formula made famous by Jackass Presents: Bad Grandpa, where a central plot weaves together real-life pranks on unsuspecting individuals. Eric André and Lil Rel Howery star in this cross-country buddy comedy which also features a hilarious Tiffany Haddish. If you’re looking to cry with laughter, look no futher. 

10. Last Night in Soho

Edgar Wright is back with yet another imaginative gem. Last Night in Soho is a psychological murder mystery thriller about an aspiring fashion designer who somehow transports herself into 1960s London where she begins living vicariously through an aspiring singer, putting both their lives in danger. Thomasin McKenzie and Anya Taylor-Joy anchor this film from beginning to end and the late Diana Rigg blessed the world with one final brilliant performance. Between a wonderful soundtrack and nonstop intrigue, Last Night in Soho will keep viewers on the edge of their seats.

9. Dune

Dune is the latest example that filmmaker Denis Villeneuve should be entrusted to every sci-fi franchise in Hollywood. He managed to adapt a film that had a semi-hokey 1980s predecessor into a beautifully-crafted work of art that would make Star Wars blush.  The extemely-high production value and the intense action only increase the anticipation for Part Two.

8. West Side Story

Steven Spielberg successfully revived West Side Story in modern age of cinema with his signature filmmaking style. The stunning cinematography and well-paced editing enhance one of the greatest American musicals. The ensemble is filled with fresh talent including outstanding performances from Rachel Zegler and Ariana DeBose as well as Rita Moreno, who won the Oscar for playing Anita in the 1961 film and returns as a new character, the widow of the drug store owner who serves as a mother figure for Ansel Elgort’s Tony. 

7. King Richard

Will Smith gives the performance of his career in King Richard as the father of two tennis prodigies in the making, Venus and Serena Williams. The pursuit of the American dream is at the center of this sports drama. Even clocking it at nearly 2.5 hours, King Richard keeps you captivated from beginning to end.

6. Mass

Mass is a devastating yet brilliant film about two sets of parents, one whose son died from a school shooting, the other whose son pulled the trigger. Martha Plimpton, Jason Isaac, Ann Dowd, and Reed Birney all give heartbreaking performances balancing grief and and anger with realistic restraint that prevented this sensitive film from feeling melodramatic. What feels like a one-act play, Mass is takes a difficult subject and allows the human condition to flourish naturally, thanks to actor-turned-filmmaker Fran Kranz. 

5. Licorice Pizza

Part coming-of-age comedy and part period romance, Paul Thomas Anderson’s Licorice Pizza is refreshing in so many ways, one of them being that it stars two non-movie stars, one being Cooper Hoffman, the son of the late Philip Seymour Hoffman, playing charismatic teenage child actor Gary Valentine, and Alana Haim (of the band Haim) who plays a fiery twenty-something who tries fending off his unrelenting effort to win her heart. Licorice Pizza is a charming film that features big names like Bradley Cooper, Sean Penn, and Maya Rudolph, but Hoffman and Haim brilliantly carry it on their shoulders, a rare feat for two leads making their acting debut. 

4. Zola

Zola was one of 2021′s rare pieces of truly unique filmmaking and perhaps made history as the first-ever feature based off of a viral Twitter thread. Director-writer Janicza Bravo’s sophomore film is trippy, dark, unpredictable, and down-right hilarious. Taylor Paige gives a strong breakthrough performance as the title character, Colman Domingo steps in as a chilling villainous X, Nicholas Braun (of Succession fame) provides amazing comic relief and Riley Keough continues to be a rising star in a role that should (but will unlikely) earn an Oscar nomination as the manipulative Stefani. 

3. Belfast

Kenneth Branagh’s greatest film is also his most personal. Belfast is essentially his childhood memoir about his upbringing in war-torn Northern Ireland and how the cinema was true escapism for young Buddy as his parents strive for a better life for the family. Beautifully shot and terrifically acted, Belfast is a remarkable time capsule that also serves as a love letter to both Branaugh’s hometown and to film itself. 

2. tick, tick... BOOM!

Perhaps the most surprising film of the year is Lin-Manuel Miranda’s feature debut. tick, tick... BOOM! is an adapted autobiographical musical from Jonathan Larson, best known for his Broadway smash hit Rent, but the focus is on struggles of getting his unproduced musical off the ground. Andrew Garfield gives the performance of his career as the genius playwright and composer who is also a remarkable singer. tick, tick... BOOM! is an inspiring film that benefits from Miranda’s artistic vision, a talented ensemble, and really good music.

1. CODA

AppleTV+ has gotten a lot of praise for its Emmy-winning comedy Ted Lasso, but its film CODA is by one of the best things on the streaming service still in its infancy. The title, which is an acronym for “child of death adults,” follows a high schooler struggling to achieve her dream of becoming a singer as her family, all who are deaf, rely on her to keep their fishing business afloat. CODA is soul-nurturing with good laughs and tugs at the heartstrings. Emilia Jones leads the cast with a remarkable breakthrough performance while Oscar-winner Marlee Matlin, Tony Kotsur, and Daniel Durant all elevate the film. CODA will renew your faith in good story-telling, which is what movies should be about. 

#CODA #West Side Story #Belfast #Zola #bob odenkirk #red rocket #licorice pizza #will smith #dune #timothee chamalet #zendaya #last night in soho #anya taylor joy #margot robbie #justice league #nine days #the green knight #the power of the dog #free guy #ryan reynolds #in the heights #tick tick boom #andrew garfield #nicholas cage #idris elba #king richard #denzel washington #benedict cumberbatch #kirsten dunst #2021

[iguessweallcrazyithinktho]

Chris Evans masterlist

Chris Evans HC

Going on a road trip with Chris and kiddos (headcannon)

Being married to Chris Evans would include(headcannon)

Chris Evans Imagines

imagine chris seeing you with a kid

imagine chris talking about the day you got married

imagine:chris broke up with you before you could tell him your pregnant

imagine:you and chris divorced and have two kids together/maybe it not to late to get back together

imagine chris talking about your twins

imagine chris seeing you for the first time

Imagine Chris seeing you with a kid after 2 years of being broken up (fluff)

Imagine Chris seeing you in a beautiful dress at an award show

Imagine your son thinking your so beautiful and he doesn’t want Chris to see you

Imagine Chris finding out his 3 year old has a boyfriend

Imagine your kids finding out that Chris is captain America

Imagine Chris being your neighbor and you wondering why didn’t put on pants.

Imagine Chris feeling like he failed as a father

Imagine Chris watching you play with his niece and nephew and he can’t help wonder how amazing you would be as a mom

Imagine Chris and your son telling the paparazzi no pictures

Imagine your son regret eating Wasabi

Imagine telling Chris that you want to make him a daddy on father’s day ~ smut

Chris Evans prompts

mamas boy 9&58

make me 48

i can’t keep kissing stranger and pretending their you 1,14&33

i forgive you 11

please marry me 32

hey just breath 29&10

92 and 84( smut)

76 and 91 ( angst, smut, fluff)

4 and 99(sad)

15 and 85(slightly angst, fluff)

quarantine proposal(fluff)

big fight (angst, fluff), breath with me (fluff) 

shoulder pain(fluff)

thirsty tweet reveal (fluff)

he’s okay (angst, fluff, daddy Chris), period(fluff)

54&56(smut) 

50,54,59(smut)

68&72(smut) 

68,69,72(smut) 

31,50,72(smut)

16,40(fluff)

Chris Evans:

exes to lover

8 letter

haters

accident happen how you think we …

heart eyes

daddy little fan

build a bear v teddy bear

baby love

falling like the stars

all way by your side

i will always protect you

rain can’t ruin the fun

give me nickname

your not a real fan

don’t touch her

im sorry

will you be there

i love you just the way you are

little valentine

best valentine day ever

admire your beauty

kick ass boyfriend

you and chris in quarantine

focus on my breathing

panic attack

sweater wearing dorks

i’m not good enough for you

moving to boston

beautiful in his eyes

have each other

strong mama

jealous chris

wear a longer skirt next time

i’m bored

that hurt my feelings

animal crossing

A place to sit ( smut)

Hot model (fluff, slightly smut)

Beautiful in his eyes ( fluff)

What!(angst, fluff)

Love me (smut)

Please forgive me(angst, fluff)

Bikini fun(smut, slight fluff)

Brazilian girl(smut)

Window (smut)

Hands(smut)

Dad’s friend (smut)

Chris Evans Fluff:

Not worth it || angst

You are the reason || fluff

Plane cancellation || fluff

Skype call || fluff

Back off, he’s mine || fluff, light Angst

Everything okay || fluff, light Angst

Social anxiety || fluff

Workout or dance party || fluff

Chris Evans Smut:

Fuck it || smut

Quick quiet sex || smut

Stuck with u || smut

Tapes || smut

His fingers are accurate || smut

Wild wet dream || smut

CEO barber || smut

Language || smut

Such a good mouth || smut

One bed || smut

Not so innocent maid || smut

Bathtub || smut

Daddy Chris:

Princess Chris ( fluff, daddy Chris)

Dance with me ( fluff, daddy Chris)

cuddle and kisses ( fluff, daddy Chris)

Late night protection (fluff, daddy Chris)

No kissing mama ( fluff, daddy Chris)

Helping daddy (fluff, daddy Chris)

Junk food convinced (fluff, daddy Chris)

3 month old talker( fluff, daddy Chris)

Twins ( fluff, daddy Chris)

Workout distraction (fluff, daddy Chris)

Reading a book (fluff, daddy Andy)

She’s growing up too fast (fluff, daddy Chris)

Little sister love (fluff, daddy Chris)

Shuts that out (fluff, daddy Andy)

Finally princesses (fluff, daddy Chris)

Busted (fluff, daddy Chris)

Bubbles (fluff, daddy Chris)

Not little anymore (fluff, daddy Chris)

New best friend (fluff, daddy Chris)

Skin to skin (fluff, daddy Chris)

Hungry baby, no (fluff, daddy Chris)

Peas (fluff, daddy Chris)

What are you doing Papa(fluff,daddy Chris)

Meeting little brother(fluff, daddy Chris)

Quarantine with kiddos(fluff, daddy Chris)

Mother’s day || dad! Chris

Memories || dad! Chris

Winnie the Pooh ||dad! Chris

Puppies || dad! Chris

Shy || dad! Chris

Bring us together || dad! Chris

Curly hair || dad! Chris

Quarantine baby || dad! Chris

Strawberries || dad! Chris

Bake a cake || dad! Chris

Sugar party || dad! Chris

Cuddles || dad! Chris

Morning with the Evans || dad! Chris

Disneyland || dad! Chris

FaceTime || dad! Chris

Pool day || dad! Chris

Big hands || dad! Chris

Not food || dad! Chris

Chris Evans oneshots:

Target - you lied and told Chris that you and your daughter weren’t going to target. He catches you both ~ Fluff

Double trouble maker - your twins break something and hide behind you, even though Chris isn’t mad ~ Fluff

Birthday special - Summary: it’s Chris’s birthday and since you both are still in quarantine, you want to give him a little show at home ~ smut

legal | Request : you wrote some dad figure!tom x teen actress!reader, can i get one with Chris Evans? maybe reader has been emancipated for awhile now n despite the fact that she’s been raising herself for a long time now, she still needs that parently guidance and maybe chris gives her that??? i hope that’s ok!! -🌙 ~ Fluff

Twins - I have a request, I was wondering if u can do a request, where the reader is African American and he and Chris are expecting towns, but they revel the news to Chris’s parents and your parents and also both of y’all grandparents?? ~ Fluff

Work this out - Can I request chris or henry tried to work through there divorce but end up with cute moments working it out ~ fluff

Princess - your Andy princess ~ smut

Surprise - I had another idea, what if Chris was being interviewed and you and your guys daughter who’s 4, came and surprised him, but once your daughter saw Chris she runs up to him and yells daddy!! - Fluff

Fort - Summary: it’s a rainy day and you, Chris, and your son build a fort ~ Fluff

Slobbery kisses - Chris wakes up to sloppy kisses by his baby ~ Fluff

Can’t sleep without you - Hi! can I request something where Chris and the reader had an argument and Chris goes to sleep in the couch, but in the middle of the night, the reader go to sleep with him there? Thanks! ~ slightly Angst, Fluff

Make up - Just after that quick one about fighting and sleeping separately could you do a quick imagine on the make up sex pls :)) ty ~ smut, Fluff

Tough guy -Can I ask for an imagine about the reader fighting with her husband Chris, about his family and the fight ending in rough sex? ❤ ~ kinda dark, smut

Giraffe slippers - Chris can’t get over your son’s giraffe slippers ~ Fluff

Switzerland - Summary: you, Chris and your son go on vacation to beautiful Switzerland ~ Fluff

Velvet - I found these prompts. They’re perfect ~ Fluff, implied smut

I’m scared, but I love you - Can u make where on how will cevans admit to a girl that he likes (or falling for) her and the girl is scared bc of the risk of dating him (privacy, fame, hate) and chris tells her he’s scared too but he’s willing to take a risk bc he can’t afford to see u w/ anyone else ~ Fluff

Interviewer - Summary: your a black interviewer and Chris couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. - smut, Fluff

Red dress - Request: After the oscars or whatever awards with Chris Evans, reader wearing a really sexy dress and even sexier lingerie ~ Fluff, implied smut

Softy -Request: Imagine Chris when he has a baby 🥺 I can honestly imagine how in love he’s gonna be in the delivery room getting handed his child. That man seriously makes my heart melt ~ Fluff

Who are you? - Request: can i request an image where chris comes back from filming and has a beautiful beard, but his baby daughter didn’t recognize him ~ Fluff

Empty theater - Request: you and chris go to the theaters and find out you two are the only one in the showing. You’re pretty invested into the movie and Chris is just horny 3000. He’s tryna fool around and you disregard him until he grabs your hand and puts it on his crotch and says in that insanely attractive Boston accent, “feel how hah’d you got me??” shweaty🤤 ~ smut

What moving in with Chris is like ~ Fluff

Long hair lover - Request: Can you write an imagine where Chris came back from filming red sea diving resort and his baby daughter is crazy in love with his long hair? ~ Fluff

Mean girl - Request: Hi, can you write one where the reader runs into a mean girl from school at supermarket and the girl start to brag for just saw Chris Evans. She doesn’t know that the reader is his wife, so the the mean girl has a little surprise when Chris find his wife at the line or something. ~ Fluff, slightly angst

Episode - Request: Hey are you taking request? I’m dark skinned chocolate and I’d love for Chris to comfort reader during a depressive episode. She’s the life of the party and she’s a new actress, not popular but she met Chris through mutual friends and he’s realized she’s been isolating herself lately, so he stops by her apt. to check in on her. She feels like she’s losing her mind. You can add smut. 😉 reader usually feels better after an episode buts its a serious battle and having support helps tremendously.😊 ~ Fluff, smut

Romantic day - Request: So Chris was asked in an interview if he ever had anyone do anything romantic for him and he had a hard time remembering. Can you write a fic where his girlfriend does something romantic for him? Like on a tooth rotting level of fluff. ~ fluff

Piglet - your daughter dress up as piglet from Winnie the Pooh ~ fluff

Bathroom and mirror - Request: Hey, I was wondering if I could request being at a party with Chris and he goes to the bathroom and you follow only for him to lift you on to the sink and eat your 🐱 then bend you over and fuck you hard watching you in the mirror ~ smut

Pink ribbon - Request: Okay but like I had this imagine in my head, like Chris is recording a video of his babygirl which is two months and he’s recording a video to help people with wants happening in the world to make then smile and then you hear a “grrr” and he’s like yes my daughter did learn how to growl before speaking thanks to dodger ! And he’s like so in love with the cutest bean to ever live ! And wife!reader be like watching this as she growls,dodger being proud! -🥺💕 ~ Fluff

Migraine - Request: Take as much time as you need 😜. I was about reader working at home on quarantine and she has this migraine so Chris takes care of her?? Could be a drabble, hc, blurb, whatever you wanna make of it ~ Fluff

Childhood bedroom - Request: Reader and Chris having sex in Chris’s childhood room when they visit his parents for a holiday (whichever you want) and Scott walking in on them ~ smut

Boomerang - Request: Can I request Chris Evans x Reader age gap where its her 10 high school reunion and back in high school she was over weight and was teased for it. Now she isnt and is engaged to Chris, but at the reunion she gets told by like an ex boyfriend an ex friend that Chris will leave her if she gets her weight back. Chris over hears this and is upset by it. Also could they make a remark like she is gaining weight again but she is pregnant like three months with a tiny bump (Maybe smut) Thank you ~ Angst, smut

Period - Request: can you do one abt chris when his girl is on her period ~ Fluff

4am car ride - Summary: at 4 in the morning Chris wakes you up to go on a car ride ~ Fluff

No Oscars - Request: Concept: reader consoling chris after he comes back from the oscars without any wins ~ Angst, fluff

Morning with the Evans - Summary: morning with 6 kiddos, 4 going to school. ~ Fluff

Wanna help? - Request: Hi there! What about Chris is in his bed reading a book as his wife were doing her routine of moisturizing her body and he start staring at her and she asks if he want to do the job for her. ~ smut

Mommy isn’t hot she’s warm

Message therapist - Request: I’m a massage therapist. I would love to see a wondering with CE and a therapist. She gets a one in a lifetime opportunity to massage the one and only, he sees her small stature and does not think she’ll be able to help him, but he is pleasantly surprised. He takes one look at her, and get simplicity and naturalness intrigues and consumes him. He’s on a mission to make her his, she’s wary. She’s wary because of her past and of what his intentions are. And doesn’t trust him right away. @creae7881 ~ Fluff

America’s ass - Summary: you make Chris celebrate that ass on its birthday `~ Fluff

Mechanic - Request: Hi! Wondering if you could make a story where Chris falls for a girl that’s a mechanic. I’ve been looking to pictures of the car Downey gifted him. She can be the one who built it. Thanks ~ @arabescapr ~ Fluff

Angry at you - Summary: Chris has to do some work and his daughter wants to play, but he can’t. She doesn’t like that. ~ Fluff

Virgin till married - Request: Hey! I really love your five and am a huge fan of your writing! Is there a way you could write a Chris fanfic in which the reader is a virgin and wants to save herself for marriage and it’s their honeymoon and she is gonna have sex for the first time with husband Chris.😙❤ It can be fluff and smut. Thank you! ~ smut

Secretly - Request: I have a request for Chris. Where the reader is a beautiful black plus-size woman and she and Chris are secretly dating, and one day they are spotted out and Chris panics and he has an interview and the interviewer asked him “who’s this girl u were spotted with” and Chris says I don’t know he personally she’s just a fan, and the reader watches the interview and gets heartbroken so she blocks him and changing a the locks to her house, and Chris finds out that she watched the interview. For the plus size request for Chris. I have to send another ask for same request because I didn’t have enough room to finish, but the reader starts avoiding and ignoring Chris, and Chris tries to get the reader to talk to him by showing up at her work, or bringing her flowers or her favorite food but she declines until one day she gets home and he’s on her doorstep and she starts walking by him ignoring him and he asks her just to talk to him please. Can there be a happy ending. ~ @briannab1234 ~ Angst, Fluff

After the show - Request: I’m sort of obsessed with the idea an anon sent in about the reader being a singer and her performing on stage and then him getting her home! I don’t know if you’re doing that already but if not can I request it for Chris Evans pleaseee ~ smut

Midnight return ~ Fluff, dad! Chris

You+me=perfect - Request: Hi! Just discovered your blog a few weeks ago and fell in love with your writing. I know requests are closed, but when you have time, could you do one where Chris and Reader (age gap) like each other and they know and everybody knows but when Reader makes a move he rejects her because since he wants a family he thinks reader is not ready for that. Please happy ending, 2020 is already too stressful :)~ Angst, Fluff

Your producing ice? - Request:Writing idea? Yk that game that Chris played with Jimmy Fallon where they poured the ice water down each other’s pants. Yeah yeah yeah. Just imagine going to give Chris a bj in the dressing room or something and there’s ice In his pants -🥺 but confused ~ smut, Fluff

Wine and sunset - Summary: you and Chris have been together for 3 years and now you got married to him. You both are on your honeymoon. He can’t help but keep his hands off of you. ~ smut, Fluff

No kissing ~ fluff,dad! Chris

At last I see the light - Request: Hi, can you please write Chris Evans x reader when he’s on the Graham Show and the other guest is a singer he have a crush on, she perform a song she recorded for the ‘We Love Disney’s album and he’s just in admiration please?  ~ Fluff

Another princess?! - Summary: your pregnant and you and Chris finally figure out the gender of your baby. ~ Fluff

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #submission #Chris Evans imagines #Chris Evans x female reader #chris evans x plus size reader #chris Evans smut #dad!chris evans #Chris Evans x ofc

[gainerstories]

Professor Plump

*UNLOCKED*

As a big fat thank you to everyone who has supported this blog and enjoyed my stories, I am unlocking one of my favorite stories off Patreon. This has been a rough year for everyone and y’all enjoy a little treat. Of course, if you want more (20+ more fattening stories in fact) you know where to go. Enjoy. 

As much as Robert Daniels loved being a professor, he woke up full of dread on the first day of fall semester. At 28 he was the youngest tenure track faculty in his department and he often felt that all eyes were on him. His first academic year had been rough, exhausting, and tiresome and he wasn’t ready to get back in the game. He just wanted his beautifully sunny and lazy summer vacation to last one or two more months.

As he sat up in bed his belly spilled forward pushing down his morning wood. There was no doubt he’d gained quite a bit of pudge in the last few months. It didn’t bother him, however, as most of his colleagues were plump and he viewed extra weight as a sign of contentment and maturity. During the school year he had actually lost weight from stress and being overworked. His new, rounder form lent a sense of satisfaction.

As Robert stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom to shower he took a close look at himself. He’d be turning 29 soon and was finally starting to look like a man. His face had grown scruffy and his chest hair finally bloomed across his pecs and down to his puffy stomach. The thirty pounds of fat that clung to his belly also gave him a more mature look. He was now firmly within “dad bod” territory and wore that badge with pride. He scooped his fat up with both his hands and gave it a hearty jiggle. He wondered if anyone on campus would comment on his somewhat weight gain.

Turning around, Robert examined his rear which was now fluffy and dimpled with cellulite. He noticed that even his ass had grown a bit hairier along with a small patch of fuzz on his lower back, framed between two bulging love handles. He could recall seeing the same patch on his father and wondering if the same was in store for himself. This memory cemented his perceived transition into manhood.

Robert’s thighs had also thickened up a bit and now touched when he was standing straight. He rubbed his thighs and gave them a slap, admiring how they bounced. Lately, he had no choice but to manspread when he sat down. Crossing his legs was a thing of the past. The added weight on his lower half gave him a sense of groundedness. All around the extra pudge made him feel strong and unshakable, despite jiggling quite a lot when he actually did shake.

Most of this excess poundage had been accrued during a month long cruise down Central America. Robert had spent almost every single day getting tipsy on fruity blended drinks and satisfying his drunchies from dusk ‘til dawn at the buffet. Carbs became his best friend, soaking up the sugary alcoholic concoctions he guzzled during the day. Altogether, cruise life was a much needed respite from the long nights of grading papers and doing research during the academic year.

His salary did not allow him to indulge in fancy foods very often, and so this cruise was an opportunity to go hog wild. He made a conscious decision to eat and live like a king. As a result, he began to notice his body expanding only midway through the trip. It seemed as though out of nowhere he had grown a squishy paunch that jutted out behind his shirts. By the end of the vacation he was even larger, noticing fat accumulating all over his body.

As he stood in front of his bathroom mirror, Robert found himself particularly fascinated by the small white stretch marks that had formed at the top of his inner thighs. He traced his fingers over their subtle indentations. He hadn’t seen fresh stretch marks since puberty when his shoulders expanded overnight one summer. He was shocked to see the same thing happen simply from overeating on a long vacation.

Plump, tan, and satisfied, Robert stepped into the shower with vigor and began to get ready for his first day back to work. He trimmed his wild scruff back to a presentable shadow and styled his hair. He then slipped into underwear that clung more than usual to his meaty rump and resultantly compressed his bulge more than usual. He would have to remember to buy some new pairs. T-shirts had also grown a bit snug but this was not a huge concern for they would be hidden behind a button up. What he hadn’t considered was that his button ups from last year would also struggle to fit around his new body.

Robert sucked in his gut while doing each button. He let his stomach spill forward and was shocked at just how much the shirt did not fit. Scrambling through his closet he found the loosest button up he owned and put it on. It was still snug and would definitely be strained when he sat down, but it would have to suffice. Next, he slid into his stretchiest pair of chinos and was instantly filled with anxiety.

The fabric clung to his thighs and ass leaving little to the imagination. This would have been tolerable except for the fact that the waistband would not button no matter how hard he tried. With no other option, Robert scrounged a safety pin from the utility drawer and fastened the pants closed. Donning one of his bulkier belts he hoped no one would notice he’d outgrown his pants.

His day commenced with a faculty meeting catered with coffee and pastries. Although he had eaten a breakfast sandwich immediately upon getting to campus, he grabbed a healthy looking danish for the meeting. It was dry and mediocre as campus food tended to be, but that didn’t stop him from inhaling it within minutes. A few of his colleagues eyed his bulging waistline although no one made a comment.

Midway through the two hour meeting Robert found that his stomach was already growling to be fed. With no other choice, he would have to eat another Danish despite the fact he would be the only one going for seconds. He stood to grab one more danish and as he sat down he heard the unmistakable noise of a seam busting. Praying no one else heard, he subtly reached down to his thighs where a small hole had formed.

After the meeting he headed straight to the bathroom to examine the damage. It wasn’t too bad, maybe just an inch or so large. Plus, his underwear matched his pants so it was barely noticeable. He figured he could get through the day without anyone noticing. Although no one noticed the tear in his pants, his students were fully aware of his newfound growth.

“Mr. Daniels lookin’ THICK,” someone commented before his first class began.

Robert ignored the comment and got on with his lecture. Still, in the back of his head he worried about his appearance and snug outfit. There was no question he would be investing in some new work clothes. By the end of the class he was hungry once again. At least it was lunch time, so he felt justified in heading to the student union for a big meal. He grabbed a massive burrito, chips and guac, a cookie, and large soda which he brought back to his desk.

Such a filling lunch was exactly what he needed. The food was comforting and satisfying, giving the plump professor a sense of peace. After scarfing it all down he leaned back in his chair and sighed. Just as he did so two buttons on his shirt went shooting across the room. “Fuck,” he said aloud to himself and went searching for the buttons so he could sew them back on. As he knelt on his hands and knees he felt the contents of his belly slosh forward and the seam of his pants rip even further.

Eventually, he found the missing buttons and broke out the sewing kit to get them back on. By the time he was finished stitching himself back into his clothes, there was someone knocking at his door. He’d forgotten about office hours. In a mad rush he cleaned the food wrappers off his desk and greeted the student. As he sat back down at his desk the same two buttons snapped back off and shot under his desk. Although the student overtly stared at Robert’s bulging gut, filled to the brim with his fattening lunch, neither of them acknowledged the embarrassment.

After the student left, Robert took off the button up and slipped his spare sport coat over his tee. The tee was more than a little snug and definitely didn’t hide much- the indentation of his belly button was fully visible- but it would have to do. After a constant stream of students over the course of an hour Robert rushed to his next class. The lecture left Robert feeling exhausted and tired. It was evening and he had grown peckish again, so he decided to grab a bite to eat before he had a meeting with the dean and could go home.

Hawaiian barbecue sounded like a good idea when he ordered it. However, after gobbling up every last morsel, the young professor felt uncomfortably full and bloated. He yearned for to return to the cruise ship where he could take a long nap after overindulging, but instead he sluggishly headed to the dean’s office. His belly had swelled considerably with the Hawaiian food and he found himself having to stretch the hem of his shirt down to ensure his gut was fully concealed.

Once inside, Robert cautiously took a seat in one of the rickety old chairs in the waiting room for the dean. After a few seconds he felt a snap underneath his ass as the seat of the chair gave way. Trying to be as subtle as possible, Robert cautiously lifted himself from the broken chair and casually examined a painting on the wall until the dean greeted him.

Once inside, the dean offered him a home baked muffin that his wife had made. Robert tried to refuse at first but the dean pushed it on him. He began pecking at the muffin and realized it was indeed quite moist and delicious. He polished it off in a couple minutes and resisted licking his fingers. By the end of the meeting the dean persuaded Robert to take one more muffin for the road. Without a second thought, Robert greedily snatched the biggest muffin of the bunch.

As he walked through the campus at night, illuminated by lanterns, Robert gobbled up the muffin while reflecting on the fact that he was in desperate need of a new wardrobe. His belly was stuffed to capacity and the sheer weight of it bulging out in front of him forced Robert to walk slow and steady with his shoulders back and hips forward. Freed from his constricting button up, his rounded gut peeked out from behind the sport coat and wobbled back and forth with each step to his car.

The walk seemed longer than usual, likely because he was slower than usual. Somewhat winded, Robert couldn’t wait to sit down as he opened the door to his hatchback. However, as he did so, a booming snap assaulted his ears and he felt his belly spill forward into his lap. Robert’s belt had completely snapped in half while the thigh of his pants simultaneously split all the way open from knee to crotch. His girth was simply too much to contain.

At least it happened at the end of the day, he told himself.

#gainer stories #professorplump

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝑻𝒆𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝑫𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎 (𝑱𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒀𝒖𝒏𝒉𝒐) 𝑹𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨 (𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳)× 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞)

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐀𝐔, 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟓.𝟖𝐊

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐀𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬, 𝐞𝐱𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐦, 𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐢-𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐥, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭, 𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐱 (𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧).

𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐓𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐛𝐲 𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐲 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @yunhoiseyecandy @yunhofingers @galaxteez @little-precious-baby @multidreams-and-desires @vocalyunho

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The girl's eyes peered with great attention onto the map in front of her. Making sure it was the correct hallway, she proceeded to make her way down the small staircase. Being so attentive towards the schedule and diagram given to her, not to mention carrying her binder and some of her journals, she nearly tripped on the last couple of stairs but luckily regained her balance before any disaster happened. Faced with a wall full of lockers, she made a right turn and carefully looked for the number written on her paper. Her locker was one of the last ones, which she didn't mind. A door at the end of the lockers was half open, letting her have a peak inside what she assumed to be the training room for the boxing club, given the huge punching bag that was hanging and all sorts of other equipment that she would never guess what they were for.

Squinting her eyes, she began to put in her combination, safely maneuvering the lock and getting her locker to open. With a soft grunt, she tossed her heavy book bag into the compartment, her shoulder aching after having carried so many things at once. She began organizing things so loudly in there she didn't notice the tall, lean figure that approached the punching bag, one of his hands finishing the task of wrapping the safety bandages on the other. His black hair was already sticking to his forehead after having run some laps outside in the track field, his usual warm up before heading inside. Making sure the bandages were tightly secured, he held his fists up before landing a couple of punches onto the bag, stopping momentarily before resuming to strike at it with as much force as he could. Through pants and grunts, he continued his punches, teeth clenched and eyes completely focused, his body beginning to perspire even more sweat, leaving his shirt nearly soaked through.

Gasping for air, he decided to take a break, body hunched over as he rested his hands on his knees, slowly getting his heart rate back to normal. Getting an unusual feeling, he suddenly lifted his head and tilted it to the left. He was both surprised and intrigued to see a girl he'd never seen before gaze at him, her eyes wide open and lips slightly agape, fascination clearly visible on her features. Having been caught eyeing him, she quickly hid her face behind the open locker door, her cheeks immediately reddening and her hands fumbling to quickly take out what she needed and just dash out of there to avoid any further embarrassment. The young athlete chuckled softly, smile still plastered on his face as he began walking out of her room and up to where she was.

"I take it you're new in the school right?"

Startled by his close proximity and tall height, she dropped all of the things she was currently holding, muttering out a slight curse as she began bending down to pick them up.

"Here. Let me help."

Pulling her back up, the male speedily gathered her things and held them back out to her.

"Thank you..." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"You never answered my question." He gently reminded her.

"Oh...yeah I just transferred here." She responded, hand reaching up to brush some fallen hair behind her ear.

"Thought so, in my years here I'm pretty sure I would have remembered a cute little face like yours."

His compliment followed along by his large hand booping the bun on the top of her head only worked to make her feel more shy about standing in front of such a handsome guy.

"I'm Yunho." He held out his wrapped hand out to her, which she gratefully shook.

"I'm Y/N."

He looked at her with a fond smile upon hearing her name.

"Well Y/N, if you ever get lost or need something, please let me know. I'd be happy to help."

Unable to help himself, he leaned down and bumped his nose against hers, making her slightly crinkle her own after he pulled back.

"I like you. Let's be friends."

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"Look! Yunho! I see the beach already!"

Yunho only took a small glance over at his friend, who had of course taken off her seatbelt in order to stand up and get a better view of the blue ocean that was now drawing closer and closer to them. Without taking his eyes off the road, he grabbed one of her belt loops and firmly sat her back down, not about to risk an accident happening.

"Y/N just because this car is convertible, doesn't mean you can just go wilding about and standing up. You could get hurt."

Poking her bottom lip out with crossed arms, the girl pushed the seat further back so she could rest her feet up on the dashboard. Still hyped up about their trip to California and unable to contain her excitement, Y/N moved one of her legs so it could nudge Yunho's arm. He merely rolled his eyes at her, so used to her mischievous yet rather adorable antics. He couldn't suppress the smile on his face when she kept bumping her knee up against his elbow or tapping her foot against one of the hands that was gripping the steering wheel. During one particular move of her leg, he got his hand off the wheel and grabbed her thigh, squeezing at it softly and keeping it within his reach.

"Do you have a death wish?" He questioned her.

"No..... I'm just too excited and I can't wait to see the rest of the gang." She bounced against the seat.

Releasing a light chuckle, Yunho used his thumb to rub circles against her exposed knee, tugging at the ripped fabric coming out.

"Seriously, couldn't you pick another pair of jeans?" He shook his head.

"What's wrong with them?" She exclaimed in offense.

"They're practically ripping from how skin tight they are. Honestly, did you just paint them on? Guys will stare at your ass." He involuntarily gripped her thigh a little tighter when he pictured some pervert eyeing his best friend up and down.

"Maybe that was the whole plan along."

Her little snort only made him smack her thigh rather abruptly, earning her a glare from him as well, which only served to make her burst into giggles.

"Hit me harder daddy." She teased him, sitting up to rest her head on his shoulders as she batted her eyelashes at him.

"Oh my fuck- I can't with you! You know I hate that word!" He cringed in disgust at the unholy word, lightly shoving her head off him, opting to instead turn up the volume of the music to hopefully calm his energetic friend down a bit.

Pulling into the parking lot, Y/N wasted no time in jumping out of the car and sprinting out towards the small crowd that was already gathered near the shoreline, a small bonfire already being started while the sun was still out. Finally catching sight of the last pair to get there, some of their friends waved them over.

"Hey guys! They're here! Yunho and Y/N are here!" A bright pink haired male who was donning a crop top began jumping up and down in excitement at the whole crew being gathered.

Meanwhile the jet black hair male next to him was not amused by his screeching.

"Ok ok geez, we get it." He held San down.

"Yeosang stop being a drag and let loose for once. We're on vacation, no more mean professors. No late night studying, no more presentations. Tonight we're just a bunch of adults who are going to get shit faced wasted and party all night long!" His friend let out a piercing holler.

"Ok but I'm not carrying your drunk ass back to the room then Woo." Yeosang warned him.

"Mingi!"

Y/N immediately ran up to her friend who was just as tall as Yunho. She was so happy to finally see him after so long, none of them having been able to see much of him since he had gone away on a transfer college program and had been living abroad for a while now. She clung onto him tightly.

"I missed you two munchkin." Mingi bent his face to kiss the top of her head before ruffling her hair into a tangled mess like he'd usually do.

"I'm not going to punch you for that only because I missed your clumsy ass too much." She squinted her eyes at him, but immediately went back to her happy self and began asking him so many questions about what he had done.

Yunho went over to see if anyone needed help, always stepping up to set up anything they needed. He had decided to help out his older friend, Seonghwa, bring out the coolers full of beer and other alcoholic beverages while another one, Hongjoong, began making a playlist on his phone which would soon blast all over the bluetooth speakers.

"How was the ride here?" Seonghwa asked Yunho, who could only let out an exhausted sigh.

"That crazy huh?" Hongjoong chuckled, looking over at Y/N who was practically hanging onto Mingi's arm like a koala, while San and Wooyoung were arguing about not being giving the same amount of hugs.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm happy she's already having fun, but even I think she's a little too much for me nowadays. I can barely keep up with her energy sometimes." Yunho admitted, although he found it ironic how ever since the years passed, it had seemed as if though his once bubbly and energetic nature switch somewhat with Y/N's more calm and mellow personality.

"Well I mean, don't worry about babysitting her tonight. Just drink some beer and go wild like we used to back in high school."

Popping off the cap, Seonghwa handed the bottle over to Yunho who immediately took a small sip of it.

"Are you kidding me? I'm going to have to stay sober and make sure she doesn't do anything too crazy."

Smirking, Hongjoong came up to him as he pulled something out of his pants.

"I thought you'd say that which is why I took the liberty of placing you two in the same motel room. Now you don't have to worry about rooming with tweedle dumb or tweedle idiot there." He nodded over to Wooyoung and San.

Yunho looked down at the room key with bewilderment.

"Oh Hong- why would you? Listen she's my best friend, but to share a room with her-"

"Is the best idea if you ask me. Seriously Yunho, we're here about to get fucked as hell. Maybe this is the chance for something between you two to finally happen. If you know what I mean." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, which made Yunho blush wildly.

"Nothing will happen. She only sees me as a friend." He tried to convince himself more than anyone else.

Seonghwa and Hongjoong looked at him and then at each other, both of them with a dead panned expression.

"Oh honey you are so lost." Seonghwa stated, letting out some very audible tsks.

"Jongho! Come here! We need an opinion from a level headed person." Hongjoong waved over a muscular red head over, who came over with arms crossed over his chest.

"What?" He looked unamused.

"On a scale of 1-10, how much would you say Yunho and Y/N want to fuck each other?"

Yunho covered Hongjoong's mouth at that.

"Hyung! What the fuck?!" He looked around to make sure Y/N didn't hear anything.

Shrugging, Jongho slid his hands into his pant's pockets.

"I don't really pay attention to hetero shit, but I'd say solid 12 if I'm being honest." Satisfying their curiosity, he went back towards Yeosang, who was already downing down another bottle and laughing a lot more than he'd usually do, which prompted his partner to take the bottle away from him, which Yeosang did not appreciate and began grumbling in a not so threatening manner.

Yunho looked over at his friend, talking so casually with the other girls, all of them showing off pictures of clothes or their pets no doubt. He began to think that maybe Hongjoong and Seonghwa were right. Perhaps this could be the night where something would spark between them.

He just had to wait and see.

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Loud cheers and hollers were being poured out at the two females who were currently tongue deep inside each other's throats due to the dare they were given.

"3, 2, 1! Ok. 40 seconds is up."

The more dominant of the girls got off the other's lap, a smug look on her face while the other looked completely dazed as she tried to regain her composure.

"Dang Sua, you didn't need to go that intense. Poor Yoohyeon." Wooyoung shook a finger at her.

"I know for a fact you enjoyed that little show just as much as she did." She glanced in between his legs, eyeing the very visible boner that had formed there before brushing some hair out of Yoohyeon's face.

"Ok it's not my turn but I've really been wondering long and hard about something! Seungyeon! Is it true you got your nipples pierced last month?" San suddenly blurted out, words slightly slurring as all eyes looked over at the bronzed beauty who had a wicked grin on her face.

"I did." She confirmed the rumor.

"No way! You have low pain tolerance! I don't believe you!" He interjected.

Putting her drink down, she sauntered over to him, hands on her hips as she stood in front of him. Grabbing the end of her shirt, she lifted it up and let her well endowed tits pop out. San nearly choked as he stared at the metal bars piercing through her nipples.

"Hot damn. I love being Bi." He licked his lips.

With a giggle, Seungyeon gave her tits a little shake before covering them up again.

"Ok now that I blessed you with my chest, now you have to do something for me."

Always up for a challenge, San immediately agreed.

"What is it? Come on throw it at me. Who's dick or pussy am I sucking?" His question had everyone laughing.

"No, don't get ahead of yourself fuck boi. I dare you to strip and jump into the cold water." She smirked, really convinced he'd never do it.

But to everyone's shock, horror and amusement, San didn't waste a second before standing up and ridding himself of all his clothes, leaving some of his friends wide eyed while others were getting more turned on by the ever escalating game of truth or dare.

"You know if you wanted an excuse to just see my dick, all you had to do was ask."

With a wink towards the tanned female, San ran into the water and let his entire body submerge underneath the waves. Meanwhile the rest of the party got off their seats to witness or record the entire thing. Coming out of the water, San swiped his hair back before calling out to them.

"I bet none of you have the guts to do the same!" He challenged them.

"Bet!" Wooyoung responded before practically ripping his shirt off.

With a shrug, Seungyeon completely took off her top.

"You have all seen my tits already. What the heck?"

Soon a few more of them joined San in the water, while the others either stood there contemplating if they should do something or just let them be.

"I knew it. I knew this would eventually turn into one of those college parties that ends in an orgy- NOT THAT I'VE EVER SEEN THEM!" Mingi immediately shouted, but everyone around him just looked at him with absolutely no surprise or judgment.

"I wanna join!"

Yunho watched in horror as Y/N took off her shirt and threw it at him. Before she could even reach for her bra clasp, he took off his jacket and covered her, picking her up and slinging her over his shoulder.

"No you don't. We're going to our room and you're going straight to bed." He firmly said, ignoring the suggestive glances the others were giving him.

"Put me down Yunho! Put me down!" She wiggled in his grasp, trying to break free but in her tipsy state she couldn't really do much.

"Bye Y/N! Sorry you didn't get to show us your boobs! I bet they're great!" Yeosang waved at them, completely drunk with Jongho holding him up so he wouldn't fall.

Y/N eventually gave up and just let Yunho carry her across the motel parking lot, his car already having been moved over so it'd be easier for them to get their stuff. Not fully coherent and with still leftover energy, she began tapping on his back.

"Truth or dare."

"Y/N, I'm pretty sure the game already ended." He told her as he took out his key to lock and put the alarm on his car.

"But you didn't pick anything besides truth you boring old sack! Now pick dare! I wanna dare you to do something!" She insisted.

"Fine. What do you want me to do?" He wanted to satisfy her whims for a moment.

"Dare you to slam me on the hood of the car and make out with me."

Yunho wasn't sure if she was being serious or was playing around like she usually did, but her sentence made him freeze up.

"I knew it. I knew you didn't have the balls to do it." She snickered at him.

Finally deciding to snap, Yunho tore his jacket off her body before hauling her down and slamming her onto the hood of his car, not to hard so she wouldn't get hurt. With a dark look in his eyes, he smirked down at her.

"Bet."

Before she had time to respond or comprehend what was going on, Y/N was already melting into the kiss her long time friend was giving her. She didn't hesitate to allow his tongue to slither in her mouth. Y/N moaned as Yunho continued to massage his tongue against hers, rolling them over each other before sucking down on it. His hands which had been holding her arms over her head let go of them so they could snake down her torso before gripping her hips. Prying her legs open with his knee, Yunho pressed himself in between them, his growing bulge grinding against her jean clad core. Y/N could feel her underwear stick to her folds from how aroused she was becoming. Having nothing to lose, she wrapped her legs around Yunho's waist, squeezing him closer as she grinded harder against him, practically dry humping him.

"Fuck! You're driving me insane."

Wanting to get her as frustrated as him, he trailed wet and sloppy kisses down her sternum, licking on the top of her cleavage, while his fingers pushed underneath her bra cups so they could rub her nipples in between them.

"Oh! Oh my god!" She gasped out, her hands going to the back of his head, fingers harshly tugging at the strands of his hair as she pressed her chest out more forward him.

"Please suck my tits."

Yunho let out a brief awkward laugh at her request before pulling himself off her, which resulted in her writhing in an annoyed manner.

"That wasn't part of the dare Y/N and I'm not doing such a lewd action out in public."

He did not let her glare deter him from patting the top of her head softly. Turning his back to her, he made way towards their hotel room calling out to her so she could follow him. When he didn't hear nor sense her following behind him, he quickly turned around and saw that instead she was walking towards the pool.

"Y/N I'm not going to tell you again. Get in the room right now and- No! Y/N no!"

He chased after her as if she was a misbehaving cat, internally cursing himself as he saw her entering the pool area. He stopped in his tracks when he saw her peel off her tight skinny jeans before diving into the pool, some of the water splashing onto him.

"Holy hell, please give me the strength to deal with her." He muttered to himself as he picked up her discarded clothing.

He just stood there both admiring and just guarding her as she freely swam around without a care in the world. Emerging from underwater, she swam up to where Yunho was and propped her elbows on the concrete.

"Join me Yuyu." She made it a point to use the nickname he favored and to glance at him with puppy dog eyes.

"No. It's late and you have gone wild enough for one night. Now come on, out you go now."

Extending his hand out, he ordered her to take it so he could pull her out of there. Having other thoughts in mind, Y/N acted as if she was giving in. As soon as she took his hand, she took advantage of his unguarded state to strongly pull him down into the water with her. Yunho came back out of the water with a shocked expression.

"Have you completely lost your mind?!" He shouted at her, wiping some of the dripping water off his face.

"Maybe. I don't know."

With absolutely no remorse, she pushed him towards the pool steps, making him sit down on one of them before straddling his lap. Not giving him a chance to ask, Y/N just cupped his cheeks and began to fervently kiss him, not lingering long on his lips as she preferred to attack his neck, biting and sucking at various points in an effort to leave purple and red spots all over his milky skin. Yunho's hands cupped her hips in a futile attempt to hold her still but ultimately failing as they seemed to have a mind of their own and wandered further down to cup her ass. Kneading at her cheeks, Yunho bucked his hips up at hers, head tilting to the side to allow her to nibble away as she pleased at his skin.

"Just what exactly do you want with all this?" Yunho finally asked.

Humming against his skin, she placed a sweet peck on the recent mark she made.

"I want you to suck my boobs." She repeated her words from before.

Taking his hands off her ass, she placed them on her chest, making them massage them as she liked them to be.

"That's it? You go through all this just to get your boobs sucked?" Yunho found it ridiculous yet cute.

Shaking her head, Y/N began bouncing on his lap.

"No I want you to fuck me." She blurted out.

Yunho immediately retracted her hands off her body, eyes not even blinking as he began processing what she just said. Gulping down an imaginary lump, he took a deep breath and gathered his strength and self control.

"Y/N, baby. You're probably too wasted to think straight. You don't know what you're saying. So let's just go back to the room and go to sleep. Don't want you regretting anything in the morning."

Even though he said it to her, he mostly meant it for himself. He didn't want to ruin anything they had already built up over the years just because of some stupid decision. Y/N however clung onto him when he attempted to let her go.

"I'm not wasted trust me. I'm in full use of my 5 senses and I mean it when I say I want you to fuck me Jeong Yunho."

Trying to seduce him one last time, she began to nibble at his earlobe, knowing he was sensitive around that area. Wanting to rile him up, she whispered in his ear.

"If not then that's ok..... I'm sure Seonghwa or Hongjoong won't mind me joining them for a night."

Instantly, she was lifted up by his strong arms and carried away towards their room.

"You're not spending the night with anyone but me."

Yunho nearly broke the door down from how hard he opened it, using his foot to slam it close behind them. Setting his friend down on the bed, he began to rid himself of his soaked clothes, letting them pile up into a short wet stack on the floor. Y/N bit down at her bottom lip as she took in the size of Yunho's cock. It was well above average and the thickness had her mouth watering. When Yunho came over to her, she tried to reach out and stroke it, but he quickly grabbed her wrist and stopped her from getting closer. Pushing her further on the bed until her head hit the headboard, Yunho reached under her back so he could unclasp her bra and free her boobs from their confinement.

"Are you really going to fuck me? Fuck me like one of your exes? I heard a few naughty and interesting rumors." She let out a soft giggle.

With darkening eyes, Yunho used one of his hands to wrap itself her neck, tightening around it so as to cut off her breathing for a brief moment.

"First of all, don't mention any of those skanks right now."

Releasing her neck, he peeled her panties off her legs and threw them across the room, ignoring where it landed. Taking both of her hands in his, he pressed his forehead against hers, his lips tenderly brushing against her own.

"And second of all, I'm not going to fuck you...."

Giving her a loving peck, he smiled at her.

"I'm going to make love to you."

Unlike his previous hungry kiss, this time his kisses were more soft and drawn out, as if he wanted to take his time in savoring each and every time his lips enveloped hers in a tender yet passionate kiss. Every once in a while, he'd tug at her bottom lip with his teeth in a playful way. Once he got her fill of tasting her mouth, his lips traveled down her chest, finally giving her what she'd ask for since the beginning. Looking up towards her, he took hold of one of her delectable breasts and brought his mouth close to it, tongue circling around the sensitive nipple before it disappeared inside his mouth. Yunho couldn't hide the proud smirk on his face whenever he felt Y/N squirm underneath him, back arching everytime he gave her tits a particularly long and hard suck. Pressing them together, he squeezed them into his large hands before taking both of her nipples in his mouth, teeth grazing over them. Taking notice of her change in breathing, Yunho couldn't resist himself in teasing her a little.

"Finally satisfied that you got what you wanted? You got your tits sucked, should I stop now?"

When he began moving away from her, Y/N pulled him back to land on top of her.

"No! You said you were going to make love to me." She whined at him, lips pouting out.

Pecking her pouty lips, Yunho began crawling down her body.

"I did say that and I'm following through on it."

Pulling her body close to his face, he ran his nose against her slippery folds. Parting her lips with 2 of his fingers, he delved his tongue into her hole, collecting some of her arousal and lapping it up with such ardent intensity. His face was practically smothering itself into her heat, her juices staining not only his nose but even his chin. But Yunho couldn't help himself as he continued to feast on her taste, his tongue flicking out against her clit before sucking more of her juices out of her. He loved having her roll her hips against his face, her eyes shut tight as she let herself get lost in the addicting feeling of having his mouth swallow her mound and folds. It boosted his confidence when he heard her moans get louder and her the rising of her chest become more agitated. By the way her thighs began to clench around his head, he knew she was going to cum any second. Before that could happen, he released her delicious clit from his mouth with a loud popping sound and climbed back on top of her body.

Before she could complain about him leaving her hanging, he began to pump himself slowly, the tip of his dick running across her folds. Looking at her one last time, he asked her one more time if she was ok with it. Instead of answering, she replaced his hand with her own, getting a low hiss to spill out from his lips as she began to stroke his length. Thumb playing with his slit, her mouth was occupied in kissing all over the marks she had previously made on his neck. Not wanting to waste any more time, she lined him up at her entrance and pushed him inside enough to get the tip in.

"Go ahead Yuyu." She encouraged him, her hands steadying themselves on his arms for support.

Slowly easing the rest of himself inch by inch in her, Yunho gave them both a few seconds to get adjusted before he began to expertly roll his hips. It was a slow and steady pace, but he made sure to hit deep enough for both of them to start moaning against their lips, which were never more than a few inches apart from each other. Yunho never took his eyes off her face, drinking up every single one of her facial expressions. He moved her hands off his arms so he could hold them in his own, their fingers intertwining with one another. He began to pick up his pace, hips slamming further onto her body. Unable to contain his emotions any longer, Yunho captured her lips one more time in a desperate kiss. He only pulled away so she could hear what he had to say.

"You don't know how long I've wanted you. From the first moment I laid eyes on you back in high school, I've yearned to make you mine."

Y/N gasped when he sunk his teeth into her neck, his hands pressing her hard against the mattress as his thrusts became more forceful, ripping out whimper after whimper out of her throat.

"I tried to find someone else....hoping I'd get over you....but none compared to you. I've only ever wanted you."

Y/N was left completely speechless at his words, never imagining he'd actually feel the same way she felt about him. She could see the longing in his eyes and she had no doubts that her own were probably mirroring his feelings at that moment as well. Caressing his face, she found it difficult to get out any coherent words due to Yunho ramming his cock inside her, but eventually she found her voice.

"I love you Yunho."

His hips momentarily stopped when he heard those 4 words, his mind trying to decipher if it was real or another one of his fantasies. Knowing he was doubting what he heard, she repeated herself.

"I love you Yunho."

Lifting her up, Yunho sat her on top of him, his arms holding her so close to him, he could practically smother her.

"Say that again." He begged her.

Y/N began crying out when he began lifting her up and sinking her back down onto his cock, his hips relentlessly bucking up into her. His fingers were gripping onto the sides of her waist so hard they would probably leave prints for days to come. Her nails raked along his back, leaving scratch marks plastered on the top.

"I love you! I love you!" She began chanting loudly through chattering teeth and shaky breathing.

Yunho felt himself go feral at hearing her repeat her words, wanting to hear her say it for so many years.

"Fuck I love you too my darling."

When he shifted angles underneath her slightly, he brushed against her g-spot, making Y/N's whimpers turn even louder and her walls clenched tighter around him.

"Right there love? Does it feel good right there?" He cooed in her ear, fingers brushing against the bulge protruding out of her stomach.

Through tear brimmed eyes, Y/N frantically nodded.

"Yes! Right there feels good. Please keep going, I'm going to cum." She begged him, her nails digging sharply into his skin.

Yunho continued to stroke his hips up, watching intently as Y/N shut her eyes tightly and clenched her teeth. Holding onto her tightly, he witnessed as she began sputtering incoherent words while her body shook uncontrollably on top of him, her orgasm washing over her and coating Yunho's cock which was still sliding in and out of her. It was such a beautiful scene, seeing her dissolve into immense pleasure that he didn't fall far behind as he began pumping all of his cum into her, shooting a heavy load that some began to spill onto his thighs as he continued to bounce her on top of him, helping them both ride out their highs.

They were so exhausted they ended up collapsing on the bed, their breathing raspy and hoarse. Reaching his hand out, Yunho pulled her body back up against his, wanting to stay as close to her as possible. Brushing some of her hair out of her face, he wiped off some of the smudged eyeliner and mascara that had become messy.

"I look ugly don't I?" She questioned him.

"You're always gorgeous to me, although if you want my honest opinion, I think you're prettier without any makeup on." He nuzzled his nose against hers.

Snuggling close to him, Y/N buried her face in his chest, inhaling in his scent while her ears listened intently to the beating of his heart. Their fingers began to play with one another, bumping against each other or just clasping and unclasping back and forth.

"So does this make us....?" She looked up at him.

"I mean, I would hope so. I was literally balls deep inside you while I declared my love for you. I would expect us to be official at this rate."

They both laughed softly at his answer.

"We should have been honest with each other a long time ago." She lamented not saying anything before.

"I'll say, I could have been making love to you a long time ago."

Y/N squealed when Yunho flipped her over, making her lie face down while pushing her legs apart.

"Y-Yunho! Already?" She couldn't stop blushing as she felt his dick poking at her ass.

"What can I say beautiful? You rile me up as if I was a teenager again." He had absolutely no shame as he began pushing inside her once again.

"But what if they hear us?" She pointed to the walls, knowing fully well her friends were probably already back in their rooms by now.

Yunho didn't seem to care as he fully shoved himself inside her folds and pressed open mouth kisses on the nape of her neck.

"Well then I hope they brought ear plugs."

✿*:･ﾟﾟ･:*✿✿*:･ﾟﾟ･:*✿✿*:･ﾟﾟ･:*✿✿*:･ﾟﾟ･:*✿

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[hoe-imaginess]

vanilla | dabi

very alpha!Dabi x fem omega!Reader 

summary: Dabi isn’t aware that the LoV has an omega up for grabs, not until he accidentally comes across you in heat. 

word count: 11.7k

contains: dub-con elements, scent kink, humiliation, masturbation, hella dirty talk, mentions of blood/burns, Dabi being an all around bastard

a/n: commissioned by K to share part of my ABO fic. Most ABO stuff makes me squeamish so I leave out token tropes (aka knots) another private fic that I didn’t plan on posting so it’s kinda uhhhhh bad lmao. will possibly post more but idk. 

DON'T let the title mislead you ok Dabi is anything but vanilla 

⤰

When he found the safehouse, Dabi knocked at the front entrance.

For a long time there was no response, and he tried again, louder this time and with more exasperation.

“Coming,” he heard a shout finally, muffled across the steel door.

Dabi rubbed his eyes to put some pressure behind them, in hopes it might too take that same pressure away from the sting in his nose.

Some heady omega in the area was in heat, and a bad one; the entire neighborhood reeked of the tantalizing aroma.

He groaned, jaw tensing, and with practiced composure put the fire down in his body. He had enough of it running under his skin every second of the day in the form of his quirk. He didn’t need any more. But it was getting worse the longer he waited there with that smell tiding in the air.

He didn’t even know why he was there, doing such a chore, in the first place.

Maybe it was because this League of Villains business was a promising crusade; he’d heard good things and seen for himself some profit in the affiliation, even despite how profusely he disliked the weird hand-guy, or how awkward the black fog in a suit could be. 

The other recruit, Toga—who he found as equally disagreeable as the rest—had all but blindsided him that evening as he exited the dainty bar which they called headquarters.

Could you do me a favor, Dabi? she’d entreated with an attempt at innocent, girl-like charm: a tactic which, as it usually did, failed. The manic grin on her face had only made him want to be away from her company all the sooner.

No, he’d said, and pushed past her.

But she’d skipped after him, steadfast. 

Tomura had asked her to run an errand in one of the more dangerous parts of the city, she’d said, but she wasn’t sure what to do. She was just a girl, after all. Couldn’t Dabi do her this one favor and take the responsibility off her hands? She was too nervous to take a trip like that, and so late in the night.

Bullshit, he’d said, but instead of protesting in defense of herself, she’d just giggled like a lunatic, dropping her pretense.

Still, when she said it was a delivery which needed to be made to you, the only member of the League he had yet to officially meet, curiosity pinched him.

Indifferent as he was to comradery, he was undeniably interested in unearthing the particulars of this would-be villainous syndicate, which included being at least somewhat familiar with his allies. He knew you had been an original member even before he and the psycho schoolgirl came into the fold; but little else. 

You needed a delivery to be made to one of the League’s safehouses? Well, maybe he could oblige, if only to snoop around. Shigaraki was particularly fastidious with the information he willfully shared, and Dabi would take any opportunity to filch information under the boss’s nose in stride.

After all, if Toga, a new—and undoubtedly incompetent—recruit was being tasked with these deliveries, why not Dabi? Why not Kurogiri, who could make the shipment with ease given his quirk?

What was going on behind the scenes that Dabi wasn’t seeing?

Underwhelming as his first task as a newcomer would be, he saw it as an opportunity. He could be a good and useful asset to the League just for the night, he’d decided, when he told Toga he would do it. He was headed to that side of town anyways, he’d said. 

So there he found himself, his foot tapping impatiently on the ground as he waited outside the safehouse. 

That goddamn scent that wafted around the building... Why did he feel as though he’d smelled it before? And why did it smell so… sickeningly sweet?

He tried to distract himself by musing over what might have solicited these late-night deliveries, for example: what was in this suitcase he was meant to give you. 

Toga had handed it to him with such a twisted, giddy smile on her face that he was half-convinced it was a bomb ready to blow and scatter him into pieces for her sick delight. Once he’d found it locked, he’d given up on guessing the contents after he shook the thing and the rattling inside gave no indication of the secrets it held.

More distraction, he entreated himself. 

He thought of the itch of his staples, the uncomfortable tingle on his ridged skin when the air brought heavy wind against it. He thought of anything that might take away from the smell of raw heat in the area, but it was an instinctual pull that left him fidgeting where he stood.

He was about ready to leave the suitcase at the door and hit the road, when there was a commotion from across the threshold.

The aroma that burst from the opening door completely smothered him, made every bone in his body feel like smoldering steel; made lightning shoot down his veins and a low breath catch in his lungs.

You blanked when you saw him there, your pupils blowing wide with shock, then, if he read it correctly, fear.

He sniffed hard, his body scrambling for a source to the scent that begged his alpha inclinations to go wild. The inhalation sent pinpricks of warmth down to his feet. The smell was overwhelming now, almost dizzying.

And it was coming from you.

“Fuck,” he spat, and covered his nose with his arm, backing away from the door.

You slammed it shut, your heart racing.

“What are you doing here?!” you demanded.

“Came to give you this goddamn shit,” he snapped, throwing the suitcase at the door. It landed with a violent thud. His limbs jerked with frayed nerves, like the sun was heating his skin and crawling down to his center. “Are you an idiot!? You know I’m an—”

“I do that’s why I wanted Toga to bring it—”

“She had me do it,” he shouted, and backed himself against the opposite alley wall, a hand clenching and unclenching against his clothed thigh.

Goddamn your smell. Goddamn it. Like vanilla. Horribly sweet. So fucking potent.

He threw his head back against the wall, ignoring the throbbing pain it kneaded into his skull, and breathed hard.

He wanted to bust down the door. His legs twitched at the impulse; fingers tensed and flames licked their tips.

It would be easy. Kick it down. Burn it down. Burn the whole goddamn place down if need be. He wanted to force his way in, wanted to claw at your clothes and shove himself inside you—

Instead he took another deep breath, and loosed it on a shaky sigh.

He’d handled omega heats before, why was he like this now? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This was too much.

“You need to leave,” you muttered from the other side of the door, so resolute and aggrieved that he would have never guessed you were keeled over on the floor, legs shut tight and body shivering. His alpha smell was nauseating you; it was strong and dominating and demanding that you open yourself to him. “Now.”

“Yeah I’m goin',” he snapped angrily, storming off down the alley once his legs restored their loyalty to his head, and not what was between his legs. “Fuck."

⤰

Dabi stroked himself hard and fast and rough, nose pressed into his sleeve, breathing in the sweet tang of vanilla that lingered between the fibers.

He growled out his next breath, and it sputtered off into a wobbly sigh as he closed his eyes and thought of you: those perfect tits he was sure you were hiding under your clothes; your ass, which would look like nice, he knew, with his handprints burned onto the skin; and then your cunt—fuck, he could almost imagine how tight it was, how hotly it would grip him and milk every last fucking drop of his cum—the mere vision of it pink and twitching and spread out for him was like an explosive punch to his gut.

He came in thick, hot spurts, some rolling over his knuckles as he quickly twisted his fist over the cockhead, others staining the brick wall in front of him with ropey, white streaks.

“Fuck,” he panted, chest heaving, limbs trembling. A hand shot to the wall and braced himself there for balance, kept him upright while his quivering knees threatened to fail him.

When was the last time he’d even had to rub one out like this? In a dirty fucking alley? And least of all because of some stupid omega?

Goddamn you, he thought.

⤰

“Dabi!” Toga squealed when he returned to the bar later in the morning. She sniffed the air, breathed in his smokey scent, and flashed a hungry smile, tongue dipping out to wet her eager lips. “You smell so strong. Are you worked up?” Then her eyes were bright and thrilled. “Oh? Oh?! Did you see _____-chan? Did you?"

“Yeah, you crazy idiot.” Dabi slammed the bar door shut behind him. "You just forget to mention that she was in heat?”

Shigaraki, who’d been previously uninterested in the debacle, now looked up from his game. “What?”

Toga giggled. “Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Did you smell her? Oh, it’s so nice, isn’t it?” The girl’s eyes twitched and rolled back loftily in ravenous remembrance. “_____-chan smells so sweet. So sweet—”

“You caught her in heat?” Shigaraki asked, accusative but curious. “Are you stupid?"

Scowling, Dabi jerked a thumb at Toga. “Dipshit over here had me take some stuff over to that safehouse you got. I didn’t fuckin’ know."

“You dumb girl,” Shigaraki snapped, turning on her now. “Are you brain dead? Or do you really not get why omegas hide from alphas during heats? Why do you think we have a beta like you go do deliveries now?”

“I know what happens!” she contended. “I thought she could use some company. She smells so delicious. Was it fun, Dabi? Was it fun and romantic and—”

“Try infuriating,” Dabi spat, then set his anger on Shigaraki. “You’re no better. Either of you.” He nodded his head at Kurogiri behind the bar. “Would’ve been nice to know you had an unmated omega in your group.”

“Thought you’d noticed by now,” Shigaraki replied, now somewhat subdued, and tending to his game again. “What, your nose doesn’t work?”

“It works fuckin’ fine. Just didn’t realize that scent you got around here all the time was hers.”

In recollection, he put his sleeve over his nose. The sweet smell had vanished, but the memory of it still haunted his senses, made every nerve in his body flutter with excitement. It was driving him fucking insane.

“How the hell do you two work with an omega?” Dabi asked. “That gets heats like that, no less.”

“We’re not animals,” the leader replied. “Some of us can handle it.”

“My ass. Guessin’ that’s the reason she’s never around, huh? You don’t seem very disciplined. Bet you catch one whiff of that slick and go completely ape shit.”

Shigaraki scowled, affronted.

“It was our mistake not warning you,” Kurogiri conciliated the blame, clearly nervous, and possibly displeased by the crass talk. “We were under the impression that you knew. We’ve taken steps to lessen the risk in our years together. We are somewhat… desensitized.”

“Good for you,” Dabi muttered. “I ain’t. A heads up would’ve been nice.”

“Now you know,” Shigaraki said, scratching peevishly at his neck. “Stop complaining. You’ll get used to it.”

Dabi tsked. “Yeah, you better hope I do.” Then he stalked off.

“Did you do that on purpose?” Shigaraki asked Toga once the other alpha had departed.

Toga keened happily, still enamored with Dabi’s untamed scent. Alphas were so delicious when worked up.

“I forgot,” she insisted dreamily. “Honest, I did.”

“That was a very risky mistake,” Kurogiri was saying, black vapors flitting nervously about his frame. “As a beta, you may not be aware of the risks that both alphas and omegas face when it comes to positions of power–”

Toga pouted and whined, like a child whose gleeful imagination had been thwarted. “I don’t get it. I was just doing them both a favor. Alphas are supposed to take of omegas in heat, aren’t they? What’s the big deal?” She had a stupid smile on her face again, rapt with thoughts of desire. “It must be so nice as an alpha, getting to take any little omega you want… they’re so needy.”

“The big deal, you damn idiot,” Shigaraki started, “is that a guy like that is too selfish to put our objectives before his prick. There’s a reason we don’t mess with that heat and rutting crap here. Complicates things. Makes everyone go crazy. Like you.”

She tittered like a lunatic, proud of her indignity. “She smells so good, Tomura. It’s not fair. Not fair at all.”

⤰

After your heat, once you’d returned to the bar, you ignored Dabi to the best of your ability.

At first, he seemed content enough to reciprocate the caution. You both treaded carefully: any eye-contact made would be swiftly curtailed with averted gazes; you cleared a room whenever he entered, and vice versa, he acted as though you were invisible to him.

It would be fine, you’d told yourself. You’d dealt with the ugly dynamics your omega lifestyle wrought countless times. You could do it again. Dabi was a new recruit, after all. Promising—albeit coarse—according to Tomura. His contribution to the team far outweighed the plights of your personal struggles. You would be fine. It would be fine.

But those lofty self-reassurances were short-lived.

You were sitting in one of the bar’s empty rooms when he sought you out. You smelled him before he rounded the corner, and fear gripped you when the alpha bouquet invaded your senses. But then something else came to seek your submission: an instinctual calling on the wisps of his scent, bringing an anxious and conflicting nostalgia back to you.

God his smell had followed you for days: a smokey aroma, but something so fresh underneath it, like cold mint. You’d never been so enthralled by a scent before, never been so tempted to give in to carnal desire and offer yourself to a being nature had designated as your superior: an alpha.

He stood in the doorway of the room, just looking at you; you stared back, frozen, and made yourself small in hopes that you might avoid whatever confrontation was to come.

“Your heats always that stupidly strong?” he asked.

You blanched and took a deep breath to quell your unease. You wished to anything that the world would swallow you and take you away from what was undoubtedly going to be one of the worst, most uncomfortable confrontations of your life.

“Yes,” you said. “That’s why I have to go away.”

“Why? I mean, most omegas do it. Usually to work it out themselves, right? Bet that little delivery I made was a bunch of toys, wasn’t it?” 

“No,” you said, feeling embarrassed by the mere speculation. “It was a suppressant. They don’t usually work on me... I’m trying to find the right one.”

The broad smirk that shifted his scarring tissue made you shift uncomfortably. “Suppressants are useless if your heat is too strong. That shit was bad. The smell is ridiculous. You clearly ain't doing somethin' right if it’s always that potent.”

You shivered at the mention of your scent. It was always what they mentioned—the alphas. They always raved about your scent: like sweet candy, some said. Most often, vanilla. The sniff of it on your very nose was nauseating after so long: an inescapable quality that put you in the crosshairs of nearly every alpha you’d met, made you frightfully easy prey to their predator.

“I’ve...” Shit, should you be sharing this with him? Normally you did, with most alphas you were acquainted with. Especially those you trusted. But you didn’t trust him. You barely knew him. “I’ve never... been rutted properly. So, they’re stronger. The heats.”

“Never been rutted through a heat?” he asked, scoffing. “Sounds miserable. You’re all backed up, aren’t ya? That’s why you struggle with your scent so much.”

You were quiet. You met his interrogation more confidently than you previously thought possible, given how successfully he’d intimidated you up until now. But your fear was draining away slowly, giving way to some sense of adeptness.

Memories of his scent had haunted your every bodily cell since the moment you’d first experienced it. Although facing it again now was overwhelming, you’d steeled yourself since then.

It would be okay, you reminded yourself. Conferring with allied alphas was only a necessary tack if you were going to keep the peace.

“I have, obviously,” you answered. “I’ve been rutted through a heat. But, it’s not the same if it’s not with… well—”

“An alpha?” he finished, and couldn’t help the surprise on his face. “You’ve never been with an alpha in your heat?”

You shook your head. And then there it was, the returning frailty so thick that it seized the room. Why were you so humiliated to speak your truths? They were truths, after all, under his harsh gaze or not.

“…I’ve never been with an alpha at all.”

He actually laughed. “Nah. You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

“Never even fooled around a bit?”

“No."

A wry, callous grin stretched his staples. He tilted his head and hummed curiously. “You afraid? Of alphas?”

“No.”

“Yeah, you are.”

“I’m not.”

“Omegas are normally dyin’ to get laid when they’re in heat. Especially when they’re surrounded by alphas they actually know, like you are. Would be one thing if you were locking yourself up to hide from strangers, but you’re not. Gross as that hand-guy is, he seems like he’d rut for ya."

“I just don’t... want it.”

“Nah. You’re scared. I can tell. Should’ve seen that look on your face the other day, damn near terrified—like I was gonna jump on you any second.”

You bristled with agitation, frustration invited back in full bloom now that your confidence was weakened. “Sorry if I don’t trust you,” you returned with grim sarcasm. “You’re not very… decent, to put it plainly.”

“Decent? Nah, I’m not. Alphas aren’t supposed to be. But that’s why you’re all nervous, right?”

“I don’t…” You shook your head, thoughts tripping over one another. “My quirk makes it difficult,” you admitted, and bit your tongue shortly afterwards.

”Your quirk?”

You swore it was his pheromones making you talk, clouding your judgment and wringing admissions from you. “Alphas and omegas dealing with ruts or heats… it compromises their quirks sometimes, I’m sure you know. Makes them uncontrollable and disorderly. I don’t want that to happen to me. Heats are bad enough on their own. Actually getting rutted through one…” You shrugged, vulnerable to be sharing your fears. “I don’t know. I heard it can go wrong. It would be too much.”

“Oh.” He snickered. “Afraid you’re gonna get too horny and flip out or something?”

Heat primed your cheeks in a blush. “No. I mean… In a way. But, thats not what I really meant–”

“So you just run away whenever you’re in heat? ‘Cause you don’t know how to handle it? That’s sad. Bet you wouldn’t be such a stuck up mess if you just let someone rut you through it, at least once. That’s what you’re supposed to do. Forget suppressants. Not just that,” he snickered, and smirked slyly, “it’s awfully unfair of you to be such a prude when you’ve got a bunch of alphas around."

You shivered, not simply noticing, but feeling his eyes pore over you. “They’re not interested.”

“Fuck that. Don’t know if you heard sweetheart, but omegas are made for us to fuck and breed.”

“No,” you said, almost indignantly, “they aren’t.” To be reduced to something so primitive and incidental put anger in your veins. It was a sore, but inevitable topic you were unfortunate to suffer so often.

“Yeah. They are. Don’t know how that hand-creep hasn’t tried to jump your bones yet. I sure as shit would have, by now.”

Then, considering his words, he made a curious frown. “Unless you hide to keep away from that guy.” As he thought of these depraved illustrations in his head, put pieces of his own mused puzzle together, the grim smile returned. “Yeah. I can see that. Putting your own sanity on the line because you don’t wanna provoke your boss. You’d rather scurry off than deal with that guy. You really are scared of alphas, huh?”

“No,” you spat. “Tomura is…“ God, you hated this, hated how his smell was driving you crazy, making you pliant. “Tomura doesn’t need distractions. He’s not very… well-equipped to handle these sort of things.”

You wouldn’t mention how the visual of Tomura’s hands gripping you with alpha-driven need, unwittingly cursing your skin with his quirk, obliging your flesh to break away under his clutches and slowly split you open was a terror that kept you awake some nights.

“I stay out of the way for both our sakes,” you said, shaking the fearsome thoughts away. “Everything works out fine the way it is. We want it this way. We know how to focus on our mission and that only."

He shrugged, unconvinced. “Sure, gotta keep the peace or whatever. Don’t wanna turn the League into a rut fest. Puttin’ the greater good over their alpha needs, over what’s in their pants."

You frowned at him, displeased with the vulgarity.

He snickered to see it. “Commendable of them and all that. But…” He pushed from the wall he’d leaned against and came towards you. You inched away, heart beating fast at the sudden approach. “I’m a little more radical about this stuff, I guess you could say. I think you’d be much more useful if you weren’t so pent up.”

When he crouched down in front of you, you backed into the wall that you sat against, but there was no room for escape. He wasn’t smiling now, only perusing you with expressionless intensity. You tried to suppress a shiver when his eyes rolled down your body.

“Never really been all that concerned with this sort of stuff, not gonna lie. I’ll rut when I need to. Otherwise shit starts getting complicated and I can’t think straight.” He shrugged. “But in case you haven’t noticed, my body ain’t all that suited for frantic ruts. I try to take it easy, if possible. But… I always thought it was a little dumb that we’re engineered to think with what’s between our legs, most of the time.”

And so saying, his warm had slid between your partially opened thighs, which shivered at his touch and clamped together quickly to deny him.

But he wasn’t deterred, and shoved against the resistance, slipping the invading hand under your skirt.

“Stop,” you demanded, breath automating into nervous pants. In sudden fear of being happened upon by the others, you glanced around feverishly, your feet shuffling on the ground to push you back against the wall.

“Stop, now.” Your hands were on his arm, trying to push him away. “Dabi,” you insisted, trying to sound firm. But it did little to deter him.

“See? Bet if you weren’t so damn skittish you’d be putting up a real fight.” His hand finally broke through the tight resistance of your thighs, and his fingers pressed against your underwear. They were damp to the touch.

He laughed, and stroked over the wetness with his knuckle, making you keen and try to pull away.

“Ridiculous,” he muttered, looking down between your trembling thighs. “Unless you were playing with yourself before I got here, I’m guessin’ this is because of me?”

He took the wet fabric between his two fingers and rubbed together. “And what’d I do for you to get like this? You’re not even in heat. And I’ve barely got a scent on me right now. We’re just talking, ______. You really that hot for me, sweetheart?”

At the sound of your name coming from his mouth, gravelly and low, you shuddered, and put an arm over your mouth to keep in a stammering moan. But his other hand came and pulled the limb away.

“Please,” you stuttered out. “Stop.”

“Am I the first alpha who’s touched you like this?” he asked, ignoring your plea.

Your thighs tightened around him again, and one of your hands went to his collar, squeezing into it in meager resistance.

That too he ignored, and looked at you with plain impatience. “Am I?”

You whimpered and nodded, unable to form words when your lips were stuck harshly bitten between your teeth.

“Yeah, thought so.”

Then his thumb worked its cruel intentions and circled your clit. The pathetic gasp he received in turn made him chuckle.

“Nah. See, this isn’t supposed to happen.” His thumb pressed harder and your head knocked back against the wall. “I’ve seen some pretty slutty omegas, but this is plain stupid.”

“I’m—” You practically hiccuped through a whine, and squeezed your eyes shut, your quirk threatening to reveal itself, answering the calls of your panic and ready to defend against his assault. “I’m not a slut—”

He brushed up on your clit hard and you whimpered, defense all but surmounted.

“Okay, fine. You’re not a slut. You’re just damn sensitive because you’ve never given your body what it needs.” He grinned his wicked grin. “An alpha.”

You shook your head. “No—”

“Yes.”

You shook it vigorously now, and your hands came back to life, pushing at him. “No.”

“Yes, _____,” he breathed, laughing. “I thought you were supposed to be smart. Alpha, omega, whatever—those instincts make your brain all mushy if you don’t get it under control. You’ve got some dissonance going on in your head. You’re really letting yourself go because of it. You wanna be a good ally for your boss, but you can’t, because you’re too scared to—"

“I’m not,” you insisted, eyes wrenching themselves open to look at him. He was amused, depravedly amused, but still remarkably composed for how ruthlessly he was teasing you. “I just don’t want it–”

He snorted loudly, and you were sure the sound would echo and bring someone upon the spectacle. “You don’t want it? Seriously? Now you’re just in denial.”

His fingers coiled around your panties and shoved against your bare skin; your pussy was wet and warm to the touch.

“I can smell your slick, holy fuck,” he muttered. For the first time, though everything up until this point had been cruelly entertaining but not entirely stimulating, he felt his cock twitch, and his mouth water. He hummed. “Bet you taste like vanilla, too, don’t you?”

“St-stop,” you stuttered, face going hot with embarrassment, hiding it against your shoulder as if it would help mitigate the fluster.

He let go of the arm he’d been restraining, put a hand on your knee, and tried to push your legs open. He was surprised when met with resistance; you kept your thighs locked together like a vice, making it substantially more difficult to move his fingers on your clit the way he wanted.

He scoffed.

“Open your legs,” he demanded of you, and felt your body twitch at the command.

He looked at you, and was pleased to find you staring back, wide-eyed and jolted. His blue eyes narrowed autocratically.

He spoke his command slower, but with more authority, “Open them. Now."

And when you did, he let out a breathy laugh of satisfaction, and admired the mess of wetness between your thighs. “See? See how easy that was?”

One hand gripped the soft flesh of your thigh—shit, the skin was practically begging for his teeth to sink in, to make you bleed, to mark you—while the occupied continued its ministrations, fingers jerking quickly over your pink clit.

"What if I were some enemy tryin’ to get some information out of you, huh? You’d probably spill everything about the League to another alpha the second he gave your pussy any attention. Shit,” he laughed, head cocking curiously as he played with the folds of your cunt, “I’m just teasin' you a little and you’re already dripping, for one. For two, following my every command like a good little whore.”

You shook your head, wordless in your denial. You thought you could taste blood in your mouth from your own lips, teeth digging in harshly to give your body any sensation to distract from the burgeoning pleasure. Your nerves were trampling over one another, all of them somehow alight with fire, but numb all the same.

“Imagine what I, or any other alpha, really, could get you to do with a cock inside you. Ever think of that? And if you were in heat?” He scoffed. “Forget it. You’re pretty much a liability at this point. Don’t know why the hell your boss keeps you around. It’s pathetic.”

Bracing both hands on his shoulders, you loosed a strangled moan of frustration, fingers biting into his clothes, pressing against the lean muscle beneath. He didn’t seem to care, too focused on the pink, twitching flesh now turning red from his fingers' abuse. He swiped his pointer and middle across your clit in a dizzying pace, until the tendons in his wrists burned and his knuckles ached. But your scent… fuck, the fucking scent—

He prided himself on his practiced fortitude against alpha instincts; his body, wracked by the toll of his quirk, was vulnerable as it was. Willpower was necessary to stave off the feral hunger that often made him forget his own fragility and indulge the fierceness of ruts and heats. It always ended with loose staples and bloody rivulets along his skin. Self-aware as he was of his own limitations, he so rarely let himself indulge his body’s desires.

But fuck if you weren’t testing him.

You were close, you knew, your body spasming and breath catching in every interval. You panicked, tried to fight it, but it was as though his fingers had caged your volition somewhere in the back of your mind, and instead propagated all senses to pleasure.

“Fucking tease,” he muttered under his breath, but you barely heard him above the frenzied din in your brain.

Just as you felt something in you stirring irrevocably, both his hands left you, and he stood to his feet.

You nearly toppled over, and spilt over yourself awkwardly to try and catch yourself on the ground. The wet slide between your thighs was horribly palpable, and horribly embarrassing.

You panted as you gathered yourself, looking up at him in flustered awe as you shut your thighs and protectively shoved your skirt back into place.

He was admiring his fingers, the wetness coating them, and when he noticed your gaze, waved them at you teasingly. “See this?”

So wet, you thought, humiliated, as a sticky strand started to spill from his finger. You shivered, your face sweltering and flushed.

“This is your body’s way of telling you that it’s beggin’ to be filled.”

You shuddered, and held yourself miserably, trying to fight the unsatisfied heat in your veins with calming breaths. “You’re horrible,” you whispered, your mouth dry.

“Nah. I’m being a nice guy. The only smart one around here, too, looks like.”

He licked at his fingers, a shudder going down his spine when he tasted the sweetness. It was unreal. “This is ridiculous. You wouldn’t have to worry so much about scurrying away from alphas if your smell wasn’t so strong. If you’re heat wasn’t so strong. And none of it would be, if you just did what you were made to do. You’re repressed. Backed up as hell—”

“I wasn’t made to do anything,” you argued, frustration returning.

“You can keep sayin’ it, but it doesn’t make it any less true. You’re more trouble than you’re worth, honestly. Got everyone jumpin’ through hoops for you because you’re so damn sensitive. I ain’t gonna do that.”

You sat there in a heap, fidgeting uncomfortably and fighting for any sense of self-determination you could. He’d said his scent was scant, but you swore it was filling the room, pulping your thoughts and dizzying your nauseous head.

“Clearly you’ve been stuck with some pretty underwhelming alphas until now,” he said. “So I’m gonna do you a favor. Next time you’re in heat, find me, and I’ll do something about it.”

He wiped his dirtied fingers on his shirt, then left you there.

⤰

A month later, Dabi got a call.

“What?” he answered curtly, thinking it was Shigaraki from a burner number. The boss did that sometimes, despite there being little need for throwaways. It was theatrical and annoying.

“It’s me.”

After a pause of non-recognition, you sighed, “It’s ______.”

“Oh?” You could hear the smile in his voice.

In the alley, Dabi admired the burning body he’d just finished off, the corpse kindling his blue flames nicely as it crumbled to ash.

He laughed lowly. “Yeah. Been about a month, hasn’t it. You had some time to think sweetheart?”

From the other end, you bit your lip. “I have rules.”

Something seeped into his blood and swelled within him. Like a breeze carried from somewhere far off, he got a whiff of your sweet scent, just a ghost of it, and licked his lips.

“Seems a little over the top,” he said. “But I’m listening.”

There was a sound in the alley behind him, and he glanced over his shoulder.

You took a deep breath on the other end, nervously playing with the hem of your shirt. “I’ll be at a different place tonight. Another safehouse, down by the docks. The first rule is that when you get here, you have to—”

Dabi heard the cocking of a gun. The disdainful comrade of the dead, scorched man had the weapon raised and trained on him, spouting some threatening nonsense of vengeance. The flame-wielder huffed in annoyance.

“Can’t really talk right now,” he spoke into the receiver, his hands brightening with his quirk. “I’ll find the place. Better not get cold feet.”

“Dabi—”

But he hung up before you could say more.

⤰

You waited for the better half of the evening shot to pieces with doubt.

You’d gone over the situation a dozen times, and twice that number decided the uncontrollable confusions weren’t worth second-guessing; dictating right and wrong left you light-headed when your body was already a frenzied playground of sensation thanks to your heat.

You started to text him the address when midnight rolled around, just in case he’d gotten lost—then thought better of it. The uncertain doublet came again: You couldn’t do this. It was dangerous. You hadn’t witnessed Dabi’s brutality firsthand, but the hearsay was worrisome enough. He would break you. It would end horribly. Your quirk, or even his, would lash out—

Then the other half of the fretful analysis: Yes. You could do this. It was natural. It was true what he’d said, about you neglecting your body’s desires, and in turn leaving room only for self-sabotage. The thought of him drove you wild with uncertainty, but so did the notion of not doing this; your body was raging at the absence of touch. One which he was apparently willing to give.

Finally you called him, nerves scattered and patience thinned, deciding that whatever he had to say to you on the other line would determine whether or not you should carry on with your plans.

Almost as soon as you heard the ringing from the other line, so too did a chirpy noise come from right outside the safehouse door: a phone.

You blanched. Before you could make toward the door, the metal lever twisted with a creak and opened. He was there on the other side with his phone in hand, and lifted it teasingly when his eyes found you in the dim room.

“If you’re callin’ to give me directions, waste of time,” he said as he slunk inside. “I can smell you across the damn street.”

You shivered, smelling him, too: he radiated a warm scent, then that icy undertone which always perplexed you in the most enticing way.

He shut the door behind him, locked it, and inspected you. He huffed in amusement to see how nervous you were.

“You said you had some rules,” he started, coming towards you. Your heart started skipping. “Sounds like a lot of bullshit, so I wasn’t gonna remind you. But I guess if it’ll stop you from chickening out halfway…”

His hands were on you in an instant, at your sides, squeezing and kneading the flesh underneath your shirt. You froze. The dumbfounded look on your face had him smirking.

“Not that you’ll be able to once I get started,” he went on. “Or even want to. Probably gonna forget you even had rules once I stick it in you.”

The hands went down, gripped your ass, and brought your bodies together. You braced yourself against his forearms, stuttering when he wasted no time and pressed his face into your jaw, licking, kissing, teasing you with teeth.

Your eyes fluttered closed, mouth hanging open as he traveled down. At his touch, your mind slowed to blind submission. The excitement was stroking a fire in you that you hadn’t even known was there.

Fuck, it was too much. Already, too much.

“You gonna tell me?” he asked between kisses. "Or you already forgot?”

As he moved to your neck, he inhaled sharply through his nose. The sweet scent stirred a frenzy in his gut.

“Fuck.” The hands at your ass squeezed so hard that you gasped. “Goddamn girl,” he laughed breathily, grinding against you. “That shit’s good.”

“I—" You choked on your next words when he spread your thighs apart from behind, fingers curling under your skirt to feel for your panties. “The rules, I—”

“You better spit it out,” he warned, coming up to look at you, eyes fixed with hunger. “I’m not a patient guy. I’m really gonna pounce on you in a second if you don’t get on with it.”

It struck apprehension into you. You breathed out the words hurriedly, “Don’t mate me. Don’t give me a mating mark—”

He laughed in your face, making you blush, then went back to kissing at your neck.

“Didn’t plan on it. Don’t want a mate. Probably never will.” He kissed hard at your neck, breathed in your scent again with a hum. “Besides, even if I did, you’re not bad looking and I know your cunt’s gonna be nice and tight, but you’re not worth mating. You’re high-strung. It’s annoying.”

You bristled with anger, but his warmth was making every other sense dull to you. When his teeth teased the skin at your shoulder, you were wrangled back to focus.

“No marks,” you warned, just as his teeth sank in, and nudged away gently to dissuade him. “Don’t leave any. Kurogiri and Tomura can’t see–”

“I don’t give a fuck who sees,” he replied harshly, coming up to look at you. “Who cares? They were dumb enough to leave you unmated and practically dyin’ for a fuck, so forget them. I’m doing you a favor here, remember that. You can have some rules, but I’m doing whatever the hell I need to do.”

His fingers rubbed hard at your panties; they were wet to the touch. "Not like you’re gonna run out now. You’re fucking soaked.” With a pleased growl he went to your neck again, biting hard.

You squealed, but before he could start sucking at the skin, you reeled back and moved away from him. You pushed at his forehead with a hand, and he smacked it away.

“Then no,” you sighed out shakily once you’d gotten his attention. "We’re done here.”

You spoke it with such confidence that it actually earned you his consideration. He stared at you, half-impressed, but mostly, furious.

“If you can’t listen to me,” you muttered, braving his piercing eyes willingly, "then… then fuck off.”

He was scowling at you now, and without warning his fingers pinched your clit.

You gasped sharply and raggedly at the feeling, melting into his touch with weak legs. He had to hold you upright to prevent you from collapsing, and against your ear, he huffed angrily.

“That’s what I fucking thought, stupid slut.”

He shoved you down onto the mattress at your feet.

You were too dizzy to make a protest when he climbed over you, and had no voice on which to loose it when he ripped—literally ripped—your shirt apart and attacked your chest with harsh bites and licks. Your nipples got the worst of it: he went for them with a growl in his throat, claiming the peaks between his teeth, biting down so hard you squealed and kicked.

“You really don’t have a goddamn clue how this works, do you?” he was breathing out harshly. “What an alpha does to an omega?” He looked up at you. Your eyes were watery and trembling as they gawked down at him. “What I can do to you?”

His lips went down, and he shoved your skirt off of your legs, the panties going too. You had enough sense in you to shut your thighs, which made him scoff, and yank them apart painfully.

“Don’t you fuckin’ try it. This is mine right now. You and your little cunt, mine. Like it’s supposed to be.”

He knew even as the words came from his mouth like venom, that your scent, coupled with his long-unreleased pheromones, were pushing him to a point of brutality. He’d never been so prone to complete and utter dominance like this. And now looking between your thighs at the pink, swollen, shaven pussy twitching for him, he knew there was no chance you’d be getting any mercy.

“Look at this shit,” he muttered, dropping to his knees, and as a protest died on your lips, his own pressed against your wetness, breathing in your scent as he did, growling loud and wildly in his throat.

His hands went to your thighs and pulled, bringing you closer against him, ignoring the fingers in his hair that feebly tugged. A shaky whimper came on every one of your breaths, your mouth sputtering through frail pleas he didn’t understand and didn’t bother trying to.

He indulged one harsh, long, angry suck on your clit, and released with a wet smack. You cried, actually cried when he went back in and dug his tongue harshly against you.

“Dabi, Dabi—no, please–”

Your scent made him light-headed, made him forget for a split second where he was, made him forget the constant and residual pain from his quirk, the itch of his staples—made him forget it all.

You came on his tongue without warning, a loud screech dying in your throat as you arched off the mattress. He was too shocked to lick up the sweet cum that received him. His eyes shot open and he looked up at you; you were an absolute wreck: flushed, sweating, shaking, and seized with pleasure.

He tried to count in his head. How long had it been? A minute? Barely? Fucking ridiculous.

He sucked and sucked until you were writhing. He wanted to punish you, wanted you to see how fucking weak you were, how badly you needed this.

“Dabi—” you sobbed out, tears itching your eyes and rushing down your face.

He pulled off finally with a loud breath, smacking his lips, then went back down to lick up your pussy one more time to clean you with his tongue. You jerked and twisted miserably. Then he was climbing over you again, forcing you to face him.

“You see?” he panted. "See what I just did to you? See how fuckin’ quick you were to cum for me? That’s what you’ve been missing. You’re not in the position to be making demands or rules here, _____. This is what you deserve. This is what you need. You need an alpha, you need me, you need this—”

He took your hand and forced it to rub between his legs. You stuttered a pitiful breath when you felt the bulge there, so hot, so inhumanly hot, waiting for you. Under your touch it twitched, greedy to be inside you.

You shook your head, unable to keep your eyes open; the blinding pleasure made a transit to numbing warmth, and your lids were heavy with drowsiness.

Your lip trembled. “Please, I need a minute, please—"

“No. Fuck no.”

He shred his clothes quickly, pulling his jacket off, kicking his shoes off, clawing at his belt and throwing that off too—but getting no further than shoving his pants down his hips so his eager cock could spring free. He didn’t have the time for anything else. He didn’t have the fucking time.

“I was gonna go easy on you,” he muttered. "Just a little."

Manhandling you to a spread position beneath him, he was almost ready to shove into you—then he had an exhilarating idea, and flipped you over, slapping your ass hard and making you yell in surprise. He wanted to take you like this: dominating, and utterly primal.

He forced your hips up, ass out, pussy spreading for him. He took his cock, flicked the head mercilessly against your clit until you were keening. A firm hand on your hip prevented you from squirming away.

“Please,” you sobbed again, gasping, body trembling. The heat. The heat. It was too much. Your skin crawled with euphoric pinpricks of fire. You needed it. You needed it. “Please, Dabi—”

“Please what?” he snapped, fire in his veins, vanilla flooding his head. “There’s no way in hell you want me to stop, so you’re beggin’ me for more. Use your words then. Say it.”

Your shook your head, mouth dry and gaping. “I can’t—”

He smacked your ass again and you jolted, unable to stop from curling into yourself as you orgasmed; the scent of your slick invaded his nose and he realized what you’d done. A dangerous, slow, ragged laugh bubbled from his throat.

“My god you’re so fucking pathetic. Look at that.” He kneaded his hand hard into your ass, pulling and stretching the skin, keeping your pussy fleshed out for him. “Look at this shit. It’s dripping. I want you to admit how pathetic you are.” He started to jerk himself hard, precum spilling over his fingers in messy streams. “Say it.”

You shook your head, pressing it hard into the mattress below. His hand went for your hair, yanked it backwards, and a tight yell tore out of your throat.

“Say it right now or you’re not getting my dick. I can shove it in your throat and get off just fine.” Oh, but how fucking badly he needed to put it in your cunt... “Say it. Say you’re pathetic, and that you need an alpha cock. Say it.”

“Dabi, please—“ Your hips arched upwards, begging, completely overrun with need. He shoved you back down, dismantling your sanity with every second went without feeling him inside of you.

“Say it now or I swear I’m gonna leave you here, _____.” He yanked your hair tighter, his hand flying on his cock. Everything felt so good. Too good. Too fucking hazy. “I’m gonna use your mouth or these tits to get off, and then I’m gonna leave you here, dripping and fucking pathetic and alone. Alone in your heat like you always are, you stupid whore.”

The thought made you whimper despairingly; in turn, he groaned loudly as he worked precum out in rapid strokes.

“Say it. Now. Now.”

“I’m—” Needy sobs wracked your voice, your hands clutching the mattress. “I’m a—I’m pathetic, I’m pathetic—”

“Fuck,“ he moaned loud and heavy, pinching the base of his cock to hold off release, then going back to stroking again, unable to go without stimulus. “What else? What else, _____?”

“I’m pathetic and I need your cock!” you cried out, too desperate for pride, too desperate for anything else. “I need an alpha cock, I need it—Dabi, damn it, please!—”

You practically screamed when he rammed into you, a loud shout tensing out of him as he let go of your hair. He put both hands at your hips to hold you in place for his violent thrusts.

Your mouth was open in vacant stupor, eyes rolling, feeling another orgasm ripping through you almost instantaneously.

“Fuck… fuck,” he breathed, feeling you tighten around him. He growled angrily, biting his lip until the burnt, abused skin swelled and bled. “You fucking—fuck—” Your slickness was in such abundance that little specks flew with every one of his thrusts, making his cock spear in and out perfectly and without restraint.

Every muscle in his body screamed for release, so soon, so quickly. His balls ached for it, spittle flew from his mouth with every ragged breath he took. Your back arched so nicely underneath him. You were such a perfect fucking omega he almost couldn’t stand it.

He shut his eyes tight, hand going to fist back into your hair and wrench upwards. You didn’t protest, didn’t even let a sound leave your throat despite the pain it brought. It didn’t take away the pleasure; nothing could. Nothing could ever take this away: the stretch of his thick, long cock pounding into you, hitting that spot over and over again until you came once more, then twice, then a third time.

He was breathing so raggedly that it branched pain into his lungs; his fingers dug into your hip so harshly that blood spilled from beneath his nails.

“Fuck,” he breathed, almost like a whisper: an angry, desperate, hissing whisper. “Oh fuck, _____...”

Everything was too much: your scent, the sight of you, your perfect cunt gripping mercilessly with every thrust. He bent forward, stuttering his hips into you as his orgasm approached. Copper met his tongue when he bit harshly into your back.

Beyond his control, his quirk joined the fray of pleasure, blue flame flickering faintly along his palms and burning you. But fuck, it didn’t matter. Nothing fucking mattered but the wet slap of his hips ramming into you, the painful bite of his belt at your thighs, his teeth at your back, sharp alpha canines digging in.

He felt the flames on his face rising; along his jaw, in his hair, they had a mind of their own. He had the sense, just a sliver of it, to back away from you, saving you from the heat that licked parts of his face, even as his hand burned char into your hip.

His rhythm was going; he was close. It hurt. It fucking hurt. He needed to let go. Needed to give you his cum. Needed to pump it in your eager little omega cunt.

“I’m—shit,” he choked, swallowing the dryness in his mouth and moaning long and low. “Tell me you want it baby girl,” he panted. “Tell me you want this cum. Tell me.”

“I—” You coughed miserably, body beyond your muscles’ command. “I want it—”

“What? What do you want? Say it, sweetheart—fuck, tell me—Tell me you want my cum and I’ll fucking give it to you—” You squeezed him tight, too tight, and he keeled over with a grunt. "You feel so damn good. Fuck I’m gonna give it to you, gonna fill this tight pussy come on, come on—”

“I want your cum!” you sobbed, tightening around him as if on instinct. He grabbed your hips with both hands, fucked into you primally now, an angry, seething growl in his throat that was far from human.

Flames on his back, on his arms, on his neck. The skin where his hands held you steamed and you moaned in agony, or maybe pleasure—maybe both. He didn’t care. Neither did you.

“Fuck!” he shouted, just as his hips stuttered and fire shot up his spine. He threw his head back, tendons on his neck flaring, arms and legs shaking as he came inside. “Fucking shit—”

He panted for air, felt staples pulling in places all over him, felt his balls burning with pleasure and heard your mangled cry as he gave you what your body needed, what it had always fucking needed.

He didn’t stop fucking into you until his body couldn’t physically answer his brutal needs, and he bent over you, one last and hard thrust sending you flat against the mattress. His searing body pressed flush against you, met your nipped skin in an overwhelming contrast and forced a whimper from your throat.

He bit into you wherever his mouth could reach, claimed you in any way he could without irrevocably mating you. Lost in the heat of it all, in the pleasure that burned up his spine and gave him vertigo, he wanted nothing else but you: to dominate you, make you submissive, fucking own you until you knew nothing else but him and his cock and his seed inside you—but he couldn’t mate you. Wouldn’t. 

Maybe not yet. 

His flames subsided on their own, leaving smoke to rise all over his skin like overworked geysers; a steaming form on top of yours. The pungency of the expelled fumes would have surely made you nauseous any other time, but your senses were dulled to discomforts and pains alike.

You panted heavily beneath him, quivering under his weight. He lay his head against your back and breathed.

Wanting to push himself upright he twisted a hand into the cushion next to your head, tried to work himself up, but unable to with the debility of his worn muscles.

“Goddamnit,” he rasped, then, forcing strength into his limp limbs, pushed up on a shaky arm and righted himself dizzily. He had to close his eyes, reclaim his vision from the black spots encompassing it, then blinked the room back into focus.

You made some mousy noise beneath him. Then you squirmed, tightening around his oversensitive dick and making him grunt.

He pulled out of you carefully, slowly, every inch dissuaded by the tight squeeze. Wetness made a sleek mess of it all, slick streaks down to your knees, on his own skin, too; splattered against his pelvis, dripping down his balls and his thighs. He shivered. All of this, all of this mess for him, because of him.

His seed spilled out of you when his cockhead, red and twitching, released itself. His cum was hotter than what should have been normal. As it dripped down your thighs it felt like a simmering stream.

The mess, primal though flattering as it was, was quickly something of an agitation on his sweltering skin, and he wanted to be rid of it. A hand was at your back to steady himself, and he pushed at it again to keep his balance—that was when he noticed the full scope of the burns he’d left on you. The burns, the bruises, the blood. He looked upon the violence he’d done with careful regard. He knew from a simple glance, and from experience, that the burns were so severe they would be beyond full healing. You’d have them there forever. A token of his brutality, of his lust.

He closed his eyes and breathed out a sigh to steady himself.

“Oi.”

He pushed at you, and your limp body moved jointlessly beneath him. He wet his mouth to alleviate some of the dryness. His heart raced and his ears felt stuffed by warmth.

“Oi, you bring a towel? Something to wipe this mess up?” Your cum on his skin was cooling uncomfortably. “Oi.” He shook you a little harder when you kept to your silence, and a quiet whine answered him. “C'mon.”

There was a tiny movement: you attempting to push on your arms. But they were utterly useless to the command of your body. A raspy sound came from your throat, like you were trying to speak in murmurs.

He leaned in. “What?”

You tried again, to little betterment. He tsked, impatience entering his body again despite how languid it felt, and smacked your ass lightly, making you jump.

“I can’t hear you dummy, speak up."

You gave up, and trying to muster what little forte you could, moved a shaking arm and pointed to a bag off to your left. He understood, reached for it, his muscles screaming at him in ache, and set about cleaning himself with a towel he found inside.

He thought better of doing the same for you, but was again drawn to the wounds he’d left on you. Provoking an alpha-like possessiveness in him as they did, they were unsightly, and some far away part of him regretted what he’d done. He cleaned you carefully, in the smallest form of apology he was capable of evoking.

When the rough towel wiped over your sensitive clit you shivered miserably, and he huffed a quiet, weak laugh, his eyes heavy-lidded.

“Such an omega.”

He tugged his pants back up his waist and sunk down into the mattress at your side. He’d mastered his breathing again, though there was a heat in his lungs, like smoke, which made every breath feel powerful and choking. The smoke had all but gone from his skin, however, extinguished by his mind returning to lucidness.

But there was still a trace of the ferocious alpha in him there, his legs and depleted cock twitching when he breathed in and smelled you, a warmer vanilla now: something changed and unpure now that you’d been rutted. And he knew, possessively, with a shot of primal instinct going down his spine and making fire roll through him, that he’d forever changed you.

He looked over at you, realizing for the first time that you’d been completely inanimate. You barely looked to be breathing; your inhales came in irregular, heavy intervals, as if each breath taken succeeded a reminder that you were still alive, awake.

He knew it was the adrenaline still rushing in his veins that made him do it, but he reached out, pushed at your head gently so you would look his way, and brushed the matted hair from your face.

Your skin was flushed with sweat. A damp spot in the mattress must have been tears, and probably drool. It wasn’t particularly nice to look at, but it stirred something in him nevertheless. You were a mess. An utter mess. His mess.

Your eyes were closed, pupils fluttering beneath the lids like shaking leaves.

“Open your eyes,” he said, for no particular reason.

But they shut tight at the command, and your breathing picked up, as if you were debating between obeying or not.

“Open them,” he told you again, no firmer, but apparently, it was persuasive all the same. Tears slipped from your ducts when you complied, eyes shining and trembling.

He ignored the part of him that ached to fall into his greedy impulses again. It was alluring. Not just because you were an omega, but because you were you. And he’d fucked you. He’d taken you. He was your first alpha.

Without further instruction to do otherwise, your eyes started to close again, and the hand that still held your hair from your forehead tugged lightly, entreating your eyes to stay trained on him.

“Nuh uh, wake up. Talk to me a little, before you pass out.”

You hummed groggily in response, your mouth open but too dry to form around words. You sealed your lips together, swallowed the dryness.

“Can’t move,” you managed raspily, staring at him, looking exhaustedly vulnerable and knowing you did, too.

He watched you, debating leniency, and decided he’d give you some, just for good measure.

You made an uncomfortable whine when he took your forearm and dragged you to him. He didn’t try to hold you, or keep you against him. Instead when you curled into your little ball against his side, moaning as you did at having to stretch your body’s abused muscles, he let you. What he didn’t deny of intimacy, however, was the arm he draped over you leisurely, just to feel you as he lay on his back and stared at the ceiling.

His thumb brushed over the flesh of your hip, and felt the corrugated, slowly cooling flesh there. The sensation made him grimace. It was so like the gnarly, repulsive texture of his own skin. Not as severe by a long shot, but nevertheless, unpleasant to the touch.

“Hurt?” he asked.

You blinked lazily, his voice sounding like a waning echo to your numb ears. “What...?”

“Your hips. Look at them.”

You forced your eyes open; they rolled themselves into nausea when you shifted to look. When you noticed the pinkish, creased wound on your burned skin, you froze, then started to shiver in your dismay.

“You… I…” Your unsteady hand moved, a finger traced over the rough, still raw skin. Clearly, the pain was lost on you, lust granted. But the sight had your stomach twisting, its emptiness sloshing uncomfortably at the sight of your own damaged flesh; you could even smell it, strong and sickening like cooking meat.

“You’re lucky that’s all I did,” he muttered, selfishly flippant. “And you’re lucky I did it there.”

You took a shaky breath, and shut your eyes, resigned to your body’s lethargy. “Asshole.”

He humphed. “It’ll heal,” he lied. “I’ve had worse, clearly. Done worse, too. It won't get infected.”

You were quiet afterwards, volitionally so, barely keeping your hostility in check. He was more than aware of your chagrin, and didn’t particularly care. If you started feeling it later, he’d go get you meds for the pain. But he’d known omegas to be particularly resilient in their heats. There was very little that registered above the natural pleasure of being filled by an alpha.

“I’m…”

He glanced down at you, saw your mouth opening and closing in determined hesitation.

“I’m not a whore,” you managed croakily, and irritably.

He started laughing. “You gonna hold that against me?”

“I’m not a whore.” You scowled, resentful of his carefree ribbing. “And I’m not”—you sputtered, breathing hard through a phlegm-choked cough–“a slut.”

His laugh subsided into a low chuckle in his chest. You didn’t see the wry grin on his face, but heard it.

He shrugged. “I say shit when I’m high on fucking. Don’t take it so personally.” But he couldn’t stop now that the warmth of craftiness was twisting in him. “Besides…” The arm draped over you shifted, found your ass, and gave a generous squeeze. You whimpered in objection. “You basically are my whore, now.”

You shivered with frustration. Despite the wild—incredibly wild and earth-shattering sex, you were conceiving a poorer and poorer image of him the more he gloated. With renewed strength, you rose on your arm and pushed his hand off.

“I’m not,” you insisted testily.

“I get you don’t know how this shit works,” he started, “so guess I’ll explain it to you.”

There it was again: the possessive, ravenous wildfire in his veins that coaxed his arm to reclaim its spot at your back, bring you closer to him. Adjusting his position, he let your head rest on his stomach; your legs curled comfortably around his own for comfort. He watched your head rise and fall as he breathed steadily.

“May not have mated you,” he went on, anticipating your griping, "but I’m your alpha now.”

You tensed at the declaration, he noticed, but no more than that.

“And it’s gonna stay that way unless you let some other one take you in a heat, which I don’t see you doing. Unless you’re just so dick hungry after this that you let any guy fuck you.”

One of your feet dug opposedly into his calf and he snickered. “Didn’t think so. To the last part, I mean. Trust me…” His hand smoothed over your ass again, and he smirked when you moaned quietly. “You’re gonna be hungry for it.”

“I can’t handle anymore,” you muttered, breath puffing against his stomach. Even those giddy times you’d imagined your first alpha taking you, envisioned a night of passion that would end in ardent nurturing, wrapped under your dominant’s embrace, protected and warm and wanted—you now balked the indulgent, cherished ideal of it. This was not what you had expected. Dabi was not what you had expected.

“I can’t,” you started, lacking the confident breath to loose your doubts on. “I don’t even… feel it. It’s gone.”

“You’re still in heat. It’ll pop back up when your body’s ready. I’m hoping you don’t need a biology lesson for this shit, but point of a heat is to get you knocked up. You get that, right?”

“Obviously.”

“Obviously,” he mocked. “And obviously since I’m not tryin’ to make you a mother, I didn’t do that. Your body’s gonna keep beggin’ for it until I give it to you, and I won’t. So you’ll get your heat back once your junk down there realizes it’s empty and wants to try again, except it’s gonna be a lot crazier this time, since you’ve finally had a taste. Told you that you were only hurting yourself by holding out this long."

You started to follow the logic. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t heard before. But to hear it fleshed out like this, by the alpha who had taken you, felt somewhat like a hazardous warning.

“I just… “ You shook your head against him. “We did it. You said that would be enough. That it wouldn’t be so bad, now…”

“You thought one fuck would fix it?” he asked, condescension taking an amusing slope in his tone.

You didn’t answer, and he grinned.

“You got a lot to learn, sweetheart. Gotta get you through the whole heat, first. Life would be easy for you omegas if one fuck could take care of your problems.” He hummed. “No, you’re gonna be dyin’ to get bred up until your heat is over. I’m not gonna do that, but I’ll fill you up for a little relief.” Something about his own words made him twitch in anticipation, and he put a hand on your head, pinched a handful of hair gently in his fist. “Until you need it again. And again.”

You heart was beating fast. He felt it against his side. “We don’t have to,” you said.

“Don’t have to what?”

“I’m too tired,” you insisted, feeling your body lag into the mattress. “I won’t want it anymore. I’m done. This will be fine. I don’t need you.”

He laughed with such smugness that your cheeks went hot.

“Now you’re just being dumb… But fine. Think what you want. Give it a couple hours. You’ll be clawing at my dick before morning.” He picked idly at the drying blood under his nails, frowning to see it, but too amused by the prospect of your ignorance to regret his violence anymore. “And now, I’m gonna make you work for it.”

“I won’t. You got what you wanted. And I… you made your point.” You shoved off of his body, pushed away from him scornfully on limbs that were seconds from giving out, and sat yourself upright.

Your spine curled and straightened enticingly as you arched up; he watched with covetous appreciation, then saw the red blood drying on your back. He tried not to put out a spiteful laugh.

Let you find the mess he’d made later, he decided. For now, a more urgent matter was making sure his dick didn’t get too hard before you were ready to go again. But you stretched so nicely like that, reminding him of how your body had dipped so obediently for him when he’d bent you over and fucked you cross-eyed.

“You need to leave,” you said.

Snorting, he went back to picking at his nails. “I’m stayin’ right here. Even if I didn’t still have a job to do, this is a nice bed. Better than the couches at the bar, ya know. Nice little nest you’ve made for yourself."

“Then… I’m leaving.” You tried to stand, and failed, legs sliding out from under you and giving your body back to the mattress beneath.

“No you ain’t,” he snickered. “Even if you could find another place to wait off the heat before it came back again, you’re gonna run back to me.”

“I don’t need you,” you insisted decisively, angrier now.

“Yeah, you do. I’m your alpha now, remember?” He saw your shoulders rise with a heavy, angry breath. “You said it yourself. You’re pathetic, and you need an alpha cock. And right now, that’s mine."

“…Fuck you.”

He cackled patronizingly, like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard, giving no stock to your anger at all.

Indignation compelled you to your feet, wobbling, a hand going between your thighs to feel the hot throbbing there.

That was when you noticed the blood, and some of the bruises. You shook your head, infuriated with yourself, and with him.

“You’re… sick,” you muttered. “I can’t believe I let you… You’re a sick bastard."

He chuckled dismissively, and stopped himself from reaching out to grab you like he wanted to—that attitude of yours made you really fuckable.

Instead he rested back into the mattress, forcing his hands to keep busy on his nails, on his staples.

“Keep it up sweetheart,” he muttered. "When you’re wet for me again in a few hours, I’m gonna remember you said that."

“Fuck you,” you said again, too disillusioned to think carefully on the foreboding, and found your clothes.

Then, forgetting he’d torn them, you threw the tattered garb at him.

He ignored you, unfazed, flicking the ineffectual shirt off his chest as you rummaged through your bag for a new one.

You pulled it over your head, then, with a final glare of indignant reproval, walked off.

He didn’t bother asking where you were going. He knew you would be back.

#dabi x reader #bnha #dabi shtuff #dabi