#quilt police | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tmwcs · 6 months ago

Text

₵Ⱨ₳₱₮ɆⱤ ₦ł₦Ɇ : 𝑊⃫𝑒⃫𝑑⃫𝑑⃫𝑖⃫𝑛⃫𝑔⃫ 𝑑⃫𝑎⃫𝑦⃫

Warnings: kidnapping, force marriage, yandere love (obsessive, toxic, human rights violated, etc) sexual acts (non-con in nature), demeaning attitudes (Heeseung), mentions of forced pregnancy, just a lot of mental frustration and oppression due to the boys toxic obsession and love for you. This is in the perspective of sunghoons y/n.

“Mmmm…fuck you taste so good.”

Flickering and twirling, his tongue moves in waving motion as he exasperates a harsh lick across the roof of your mouth. You try to push away delicately, so as to not push the limits of his affection and temptation. “N-nnno….stop. No more.” You whine, trying to put up some distance, yet he refuses to honor your request, little to no surprise there. “Come on baby, don’t say that.” His voice was deep and his accent was thick. It’s amazing how well he spoke and understood your language so well, considering he almost always never spoke it, preferring to use his mother-tongue. “Kiss me back, if you don’t I’ll stick it in you.”

You gasp in fear from the inevitable threat he pushes. There was a change within him, one that you’ve noticed since the night he inadvertently rescued you. It was obvious that he did it to obscure his own crimes of grave digging, cannibalism, and murder, but after bringing you into captivity in what was his rather luxurious home, you discovered that Sunghoon was a rather shy type. He was quiet, and kept to himself, never bothering anyone, other than those who he preyed upon to feast upon their flesh. It bothered you that such a handsome and tamed man had such a dark and gruesome side. You never asked why, even though the passing months he’s opened up and encouraged you to ask him anything your mind becomes curious about. You rather not know what troubles he had endured that caused him to find solace in feasting on people.

Since taking and keeping you away, you watched through the widespread media that the news of your disappearance was slowly becoming forgotten. You…were being forgotten. Nothing more than just a memory. Your family called off the search as the police explained that there was nothing more they could do, even so much as stating that this was possibly a runaway, rather than a crime of foul play or kidnapping, since there was no evidence or body to compound their deductions. You watched as the world moved on, and you remained stagnant by the person who saved you, only to become your worst enemy.

After your first few nights here, you watched as he grew more active, smiling and laughing every time he saw you. He allowed you freedom within the wide apartment, but with a shock collar attached to monitor and control your movements and whereabouts. Times when you were tempted to reach for the doorknob, to see if you could crack the code on the security pad, he’d ascertain what was going through your mind as he watched from his phone, having cameras placed everywhere, leaving no blind spot available. A sting to the neck shocks you for air, gasping and yelping out of pain as it brings you to your knees. “Sorry darling, but I’ve told you— no standing by the door.”

He would help you up, and walk you over to the bedroom where he’d tuck your crying self in. You sobbed and lay limp like a ragdoll, all the while he covers you with a thick quilt and kisses your head. “Cute little thing.” Was all he would say before leaving the room, gently closing the door.

Your untimely doom awaits as he checks off each day in his calendar. Time was breaching that moment where he arranged for a private wedding, one where his personal friends and their own spouses would attend. He had a dress fitted, it was already in the process of receiving alterations. Many days when you met up with h/n, and her own captor, Jake, you vented out your grief and frustration, as did she.

She spoke of how Jake did so many things, just as Sunghoon did to you. So many forms of sexual assault, leaving out the penetration, saving it for she was ‘ready’.

You sat across, staring wide eyed as she quietly sobs, talking about how he kept telling her that she was ‘special’ and ‘different from other women’. He wanted her so badly, but was breaking her down piece by piece until she wouldn’t be able to take it anymore and cave in, all so they could both finally elope and fully enjoy sex together. That is what he would tell her.

For you, it might be similar. Sunghoon seems to be more of a traditional man, preferring to wait until after marriage so that things between you both could be properly consummated. He has come close, which provoked fear and panic as you felt his fingers walk along the line of your abdomen, slipping into your panties and tapping against the roof of your clit. “S-stop! Please! No!”

He’d smirk against your lips. “What? Would you rather wait till the honeymoon?” He would speak in jest, yet his tone seemed serious. “I know baby, I’ll be good until then…you just make it so damn hard.”

What was it about you that turned him from obscuring his secret, to having this abnormal obsession with you? It was unruly and unbalanced. The same went for Jake. What was it about h/n, that caused his entire reason for living to be none other than her?

During one of Jake and Sunghoon’s gatherings, you and h/n were placed delicately across from one another, as usual. Being told to ‘play nicely’. Only this time, instead of being seated at your own tea table across the room, you both were forced to sit with the boys. “Let’s eat together. Hmm?” Sunghoon smiles as he kisses the top of your head.

“So, y/n. Are you excited for the wedding?” Jake asked, smirking against a palm as he scoots h/n closer to his lap. “Our wedding will be closely behind. I can’t wait.” H/n shutters in disgust and fear upon hearing of the involuntary wedding that would unite them legally, forever binding her with him, just as you would be with Sunghoon.

You stayed silent, a look of dissatisfaction hinders your ability to smile. Your brows furrowed together in worry and sadness, while h/n did the same, only her expression contained more frustration. A sudden click comes from the door. Someone was entering, and they knew the combination to the keypad. You and h/n looked upon each other with wide eyes as a sudden spark of hope emerges, only to be shattered by the dark pair of soulless eyes that walked into the room.

“Finally, where’s your girl?”

“She’s not feeling good today, so I gave her some medicine which knocked her out cold and locked the place up. Figure she could use some rest while I grab some things for her.”

The man was tall, taller than both Jake, and Sunghoon. He had dark purple hair, which looked to be dyed some time ago as the freshness was no longer there. The dark roots were growing out, yet it didn’t deter away from his appeal. He was smooth looking, yet his street style clothing carried the essence of a degenerate. A backwards cap sits atop his head, he flares a smirk after taking in the sight of you and h/n. “Huh, so these are the girls I’ve been hearing all about?”

Jake and Sunghoon chuckle shyly and proudly. “Yeah.” One of them spoke bashfully as he blushed. Pulling h/n to stand, Jake stands her in front as he begins to caress her hips from behind. “Baby, this is Daddy’s best friend, Heeseung. Say hi.”

H/n looked terribly frightened as she was projected to greet the intimidating man before her. He was terrifying. The look in his eye, the unhinged smirk, and the way he stood so casually eyeing her down as if she was just a simple little toy. You knew without having any confirmation, this man has killed before.

“Hmph…your girl has no manners.” He remarks as he eyeballs Jake a playful smirk. Rolling his eyes once he took a final look at h/n, who stood silent out of fear. “How about this one? Is she any better?”

He directs his sights on you as Sunghoon gently stands you up, much like Jake did with h/n. “Say hi baby. This is Heeseung, he is like an older brother to me and Jake. He’s coming to the wedding, and he will bring over another friend for you and h/n to play with.”

You stood shaking. Heeseung’s smirk subtly disappears as you warily peep out a “hi.”

“Hi?” He widened his eyes. “Wow. What a way with words you have. I look forward to your next syllable.”

What a smartass this man was. No compassion or sympathy for what you and h/n were going through, yet why did it even shock you in the first place? According to what you’ve overheard whenever Sunghoon and Jake spoke, this guy was the first one among them that found a wife, and much like you and h/n, apparently the woman was subjected to sexual abuse before their marriage. Maybe you and h/n got out lucky, according to the boys, this man had his girl all but impregnated by the first night he took her. Sunghoon mentioned that a baby would be saved for another time, that Heeseung has stated he would rather enjoy his darling wife on his own for a little bit.

“You sticking around for brunch?” Jake mentions as he flips a grape and catches it with his mouth. Placing h/n’s hand against his cheek as he rubs it in circles, savoring the feel of her skin before placing a kiss on back. A small tear drop escapes the corner of her eye.

“Nah. I just stopped to say hi. Gonna go get my girl some more medicine and take a nap with her.”

“Sounds like you’ve managed to tame the shrew.” Sunghoon jests, resting a hand on your shoulder. “Drugs help.” Heeseung smirks out. “Sleeping pills my friend, it’s one of the better things to use if your little fiance has trouble sleeping…or laying still.” Heeseung winks over to Sunghoon, before turning and chuckling over to Jake. Good God…what sordid deed did this man just plant in their brains? Drugs? Sleeping pills?

You look up with pleading eyes as Sunghoon notes the expression, but merely smiles in return.

“Speaking of which, those sleeping medications should be wearing off in about an hour so I gotta go. Wanna be there when she wakes up.”

“Don’t forget, this Saturday—“ Sunghoon points as he shoots the reminder over to Heeseung as he walks out. “Yeah, yeah—I got it. don’t worry I wouldn’t miss it for the world man. Happy for you both.”

With that, the scary young man takes his leave. For a moment, both you and h/n forget about your own station for a second as you couldn’t help but feel pity for the girl who ended up with that asshole. He was not at all as patient or calm as Jake and Sunghoon. They was also a sense of heightened danger that came along with his presence, you wondered if the one who he forced into isolation was at all right, or if she was seriously in danger, more so than you and h/n.

“Well, let’s eat.” Jake remarks as he fixes h/n a plate. Sunghoon prepares you a cup of tea and the day carries on. Both you and h/n began to hyperventilate. You’re unsure of what triggered it, was it the dark look from that man? Heeseung? Was it the signal of what was to come? The doom of being trapped forever. The boys tend to you both but nothing was calming the shakiness of fear and chaos stirring inside. You have to find a way out of this…you have to.

………..

Days have passed; the moment of dreading has reached its peak as you are tucked away in the small saloon inside the church, fitted and laced into your wedding gown. You sat at the small vanity, quietly sobbing as the awaiting groom and his two dear friends stood, speaking out mass felicitations for the big day. A small window containing an auto lock guard proposed a possible way out, but the secured feature will not allow you to escape. You’re truly stuck for life. The thought of the honeymoon phase coming after the ceremony, where the man intends to start a family with you…it’s haunting every waking moment and causing you to slowly lose your mind.

You hear them talking, laughing and making plans of their future with the women they’ve kidnapped. Jake spoke of a life in the country with h/n, owning a small farm and filling the entire acreage with kids and small animals. The tall and dark-aura one, Heeseung, spoke of traveling the world, dragging his soulmate around with him. You winced upon hearing Sunghoons plans of getting a family home, watching as you would bear and raise his kids as his quaint little housewife. Despicable.

Your chest trembles with each breath; the blood rushes from your fingers and toes, going to who knows where. In all truth, it felt as if it was being drained out of you. You couldn’t breathe, think, or speak. Was this really how your life will turn out? Being married to a closet cannibal who does his evil and disgusting deeds behind your back? Regardless of you knowing the truth, the decency of keeping it covered from you was less than an impeccable gesture. You didn’t care! You can’t be his! You can’t carry his babies! You can’t marry him! All you could do was sob and harshly close your eyes, telling yourself repeatedly that this was all a dream…a cruel dream.

Wake up…wake up….WAKE UP!! Please wake up!

Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!

*creak*

The opening of the old wooden door. Your breath hitched as you prepared for the worst sight when suddenly you saw the small face, and that satin bridesmaid gown.

H/n….

“Y/n…we have to get out of here, now!”

Taglist: @enheene , aiden2001 , @heeseung-min , @lathan1510 , @rayofsunshineeee , @hoyeonheeseung , @rayofsunshineeee , @yohanabanana , @sunoosrightbuttcheek , @jaeneohee , @icydawon , @silcry , @iamliacamila , @nikstrange , @enheene ; @nuriicata , @en-happiness @lisaaannna @en-geneisaxx

#park sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon smut #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon smut #yandere sunghoon #jake imagines #jake scenarios #jake enhypen #jake sim smut #jake sim x reader #jake smut #enhypen imagine #yandere enhypen #yandere au

137 notes · View notes

theother-victoria · 1 month ago

Text

an eye for an eye

SYNOPSIS: what happens when you stick your nose where it doesn't belong?

CHARACTERS: dr ratio

TAGS: major character death, small town horror, murder mystery, 2.6k+ wc

TAGLIST: @tragedy-of-commons, @mitsvriii, @harque, @akutasoda, @hazyue, @gabile18, @khoncore

NOTES: I procrastinated real hard on this and managed to thug it out in the span of like.... four days

written for @/stellaronhvnters’ stellaween festival event! I chose the prompt skeletons

special thanks to my dearest pookie @tragedy-of-commons once again for proofreading this for me so last-minute!

It’s never a good sign when a small town ends up on the map, for one reason or another. Small towns are small for a reason. They keep to themselves, its residents living peaceful, crime-free lives and concern themselves with their own problems.

So when news of skeletons being discovered in people’s yards in a small town that isn’t even listed on the maps makes it onto national television, it takes the entire nation and even the world by storm.

It’s all people can talk about as the case unfolds. Reporters are flooding into the town until they outnumber the residents living there. With the sudden spotlight, it was revealed that the town was so small it had a police force that consisted of a handful of members and a single car. And with a police force that small, a proper forensics department was out of the question.

Hence, where you and your colleague, Veritas Ratio came in. The town council had called in for a detective and forensics team to assist with the investigation. When he saw the state the lab was in, he had sighed louder than you’d ever heard him.

“The absolute disarray of this place! Barely any equipment either! How in the world do they expect me to properly work with this lack of resources?”

You have to pointedly glare at him.

“Veritas, have you forgotten they’re painfully underfunded…? They probably had no need for police and forensics either.”

He merely clicked his tongue and glared back at you.

There’s not much that points toward a bright future for this town. It’s so isolated up in the mountains that the nearest town is an hour drive away. There’s only one stoplight and one stop sign. (Not that there was much traffic to begin with…) The largest store around is the dollar store at the end of the only street running through town. Restaurant options are equally limited. There’s a 24/7 diner that’s staffed by one person, a twitchy-looking waitress, along with some fast-food options here and there. A second-run movie theater is the only option for entertainment around here. A single-track railway with a train that only stops once per day is the only way in or out of here besides car. Coniferous and evergreen trees surround the town like a cage and it’s always foggy. Sunlight rarely peeks through the thick cloud cover and there’s a persistent smell of smoke from something burning elsewhere on the mountain. The most important building is the church located on Main Street. Sometimes, its spire is the only thing visible amidst the heavy fog and smoke.

There’s only one place for lodging- a run-down motel with a flickering neon sign and always vacant. A dingy room quickly becomes your home away from home. It always smells mildly of mold and mildew with a strong floral smell that seemed like an attempt to cover up the neglect, but failed miserably at doing so. The electricity frequently spikes or cuts out, meaning you’ve already fried the motel’s hot water kettle that you relied on for your morning coffee. The room itself looked like a relic from the past, with its yellowing pastel wallpaper, an uncomfortably lumpy mattress that the two of you are forced to share, floral sheets, and threadbare patchwork quilt. The cheap carpet looks like it hasn’t been cleaned since it was installed and the heater hacks and shudders to life like it’s on its last legs. There’s always the distant hum of fluorescent lights and it’s like a persistent itch at the back of your mind that you just can’t scratch and it’s driving you insane.

This town is unwelcoming, and so are its residents. Silence follows you and Veritas wherever you go. Shopkeepers are as rude as they can be without getting a complaint filed. When passing through a neighborhood, mothers rush to get their children inside the house and openly glare at you from their rotting porches. Witnesses were downright uncooperative during questioning, even rude at times.

This town is hiding something, and you don’t like it.

But even with the increased police presence in town and nightly neighborhood watches that have been set up, the cases kept piling up. Every morning a call would come in from a panicked resident about a fresh mound of dirt in their yard that only meant one thing. Someone would head over to dig it up and sure enough, there’d be a skeleton there. Some were yellowed with age, but most of them were new from their glistening ivory hue, Some of them were pristine while others still had bits of flesh and blood clinging to them. Forensic analysis revealed that the skeletons belonged to people of all ages too. No one was seemingly safe.

Some of these victims had been alive the day prior too. Meaning that not only were you dealing with a potential case of illegal exhumation, but also first-degree murder.

A small team of forensic scientists working with Veritas would accompany you, where they’d gather samples before heading back to the lab while you and your partner would spend the rest of the day questioning people.

But while he was in the lab, you had discovered something very interesting during questionings.

“Madam, it would be in your best interests if you would cooperate.”

You fixate the trembling woman before you with a piercing, unblinking gaze. She pointedly avoids your eyes, but you’ve always had a way with extracting information from the most uncooperative of witnesses.

“...”

“F-Fine! I’ll speak! That man was a longtime business rival of ours! He died several years ago of a heart attack, but I have no idea how he ended up in my front yard, I swear!”

So the deceased all had some connection with where- or rather, who- they were found. A victim of a greedy loan shark drowning in interest, a bitter and jealous ex-husband, and so on. It keeps popping up so often that it’s not a coincidence anymore.

Still, there’s one thing that sticks out to you.

“Were all these bodies exhumed? I noticed that cremation is almost unheard of in this town in the coroner’s reports that you sent me, despite the crematorium being conveniently located in the church and a cheaper alternative to a traditional burial,” you say one night as you’re cross-examining testimonies with newspaper clippings. Veritas looks over at you from where he sits on the bed. “Do we have a potential gravedigger on our hands?”

He pauses.

“Perhaps a visit to the town cemetery is in order.”

The next day, the both of you arrive at the cemetery soon after the gates open.

The first thing that stands out to you is how small it is. It’s smaller than the average cemetery, with very few tombstones. The only thing breaking it are the small farms here and there.

“Well, this certainly doesn’t line up with the amount of skeletons that have been discovered as of late,” you grumble as you get out of the car. Ratio nods and shields his eyes from the early morning sun that’s already beating down onto your backs.

The weathered faces of some of the tombstones as you walk by makes you pause. They’re ancient.

You shudder. You try not to think about decomposing bodies inadvertently becoming fertilizer for the farms next door…

Clearly, this town has had a long history. Perhaps it was prospering long ago. But now, it’s on the verge of becoming a ghost town with only spiteful, suspicious people left. And in a place as small as this, history must be traceable for at least several generations back.

As you walk amongst the tombstones, you notice that very few of the graves have had the earth in front of them disturbed.

“So maybe we don’t have a gravedigger after all,” you murmur as you pull out your phone. A quick phone call to the church later and you learn that yes, the church is aware of what’s been happening. No, they did not receive or approve any requests to exhume a body, much less several.

You click your tongue irritatedly after hanging up. There goes that hypothesis. It’s clear that while some bodies have been exhumed, most of them were not.

So now what?

Later that night at the 24/7 diner, you discuss your findings so far while sipping on reheated instant coffee and trying to stomach dry pancakes. The sun has already gone down and the street lights outside flicker weakly to life.

“The biggest discovery my team and I have made is that this all seems to be the work of several different people, but that was at the start of the case. There has not been anything groundbreaking since then.”

You raise an eyebrow. He senses the question in your gaze.

“Forensic testing has revealed that maceration has occurred through several different ways. Bleaching, boiling, and crude hacking are the three most common ones. There have been some attempts at more sophisticated methods, such as enzymatic and chemical maceration, but those have been crude at best. It got the job done, but the bones had severe surface damage and were shrunken. Meanwhile, some were in pristine condition and barely damaged.”

“So they know about the various techniques, but they don’t have the knowledge and experience to carry it out properly?”

He nods. “Precisely. And even within the three most common methods, there were varying degrees of success present.”

“That… certainly doesn’t seem like the work of one person.”

You sip your now-cold coffee and wince at the sour aftertaste before pulling out your findings.

“Here’s what me and my partner have discovered. The biggest thing is that every skeleton seems to have a connection to where they were found.”

“Elaborate.”

“All of them have been found in people’s yards, and it turns out the deceased had some sort of connection with the homeowner while they were alive. A bitter ex-husband, a family feud that has stretched back generations, the sole surviving member of a family that was murdered several years ago…”

You sigh. “The connections are endless. I could go on forever.”

You cast your gaze around the diner. Your nails drum against the red formica tabletops and you tap your foot absentmindedly against the checkered floors that are slightly greasy and sticky. The only other people there are a family of four with shifty eyes and the waitress that’s been here since you arrived. She jolts and looks the other way.

“For a town this small, it sure is harboring a lotta desire for revenge,” you murmur, more to yourself than to him. Your gaze lazily drifts around before landing on the lighting fixture above the bar and settles there.

…

Your eyes narrow as your tired mind begins putting the seemingly unrelated pieces together. Veritas’ sharp eyes don’t miss it.

The actions of several different people with varying degrees of success… a collective desire for revenge…

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“This is just a thought but…you don’t think it’s the whole town that’s in on this, right…? I mean-”

He suddenly shushes you as he gets up. It’s only when you return to your room that he gestures for you to continue speaking.

“- I mean, the one thing unifying everything is the desire for revenge, which every resident seems to harbor a bit of,” you continue as you get ready for bed. “Cremation is an unusual option here. Most people are buried instead. But the cemetery is also surprisingly small. But why is that? The answer is that most people are not dying of natural causes. Most people are being murdered out of a desire for revenge with no hope for any sort of burial or funeral. So my earlier gravedigger hypothesis is incorrect now. Did your analysis reveal signs of skeletal trauma on some of them?”

“Many of them,” corrects Veritas.

Despite the late hour, your mind is fully awake as all the pieces finally start falling into place together.

“Relationships are messy and the residents of this town are no exception. The deceased often had multiple conflicts and grudges with other people. What I suspect happened is they were murdered and then dumped into someone’s yard that the deceased also had connections with to pin the blame on them. Which begs the question: where were the police in all of this?”

You pause to catch your breath.

“But the police mean nothing if everyone is in on it, even if unknowingly, correct? This also explains the absolute disrepair the police and forensics department are in as well.”

Veritas meets the knowing glint in your eyes.

“Let’s say that I’m the murderer. I killed you because of a grudge I bore, stripped you of your flesh until only skeletal remains are left, which I then buried in your neighbor’s yard that you also had some conflict with to pin the blame on them. The neighbor then calls the cops, but both they and the cop at the scene have done the same thing before, even though they don’t know of the other’s actions. Someone will be sentenced to jail, but they will inevitably end up getting killed by someone else for another grudge before they’re off to jail and out of reach for good. The body gets hacked away and planted into someone else’s yard and the cycle repeats. Everyone has gotten their hands dirty. There’s no way for this to be closed because everyone has played a part in it. It’s like trying to untangle a never-ending knot.”

The exhaustion of the day is beginning to catch up with you. You climb into bed next to him, shifting to avoid the lumps in the mattress that’ll give you a backache tomorrow morning.

“Revenge is a scary thing. They’ll wipe themselves out at this point,” you sleepily murmur.

Veritas doesn’t meet your gaze. You can see the gears rapidly spinning in his mind before arriving at the same conclusion.

“... It’s best if we leave as soon as possible,” is all he says.

The next morning, you authorize a search warrant on every household in town. There, they find incriminating evidence. A butcher knife and cutting board with dried human blood seeping into its cracks. A stock pot with bleach still in it. Scissors, knives, and scalpels with hardened chunks of human flesh still stuck to them. Guns, knives, and other weapons of murder.

A mass arrest is carried out to the flashing cameras and interest of the nation. You and Veritas are congratulated on your work and rewarded with a shiny promotion. You’re finally able to head home, much to your joy. You’re eager to leave that unsettling place behind for good. The case is closed and it’s time to relax before moving onto your next assignment.

At least, that’s what you had anticipated.

The town’s residents wiped themselves off the map. It’s now a ghost town. Cars rust from the assault of the elements and ivy begins to overtake the brick buildings. Shops and houses are broken into and pilfered. In a matter of weeks, the town is forgotten by the few that still remember it. The only people its shattered windows see now are curious urban explorers.

But nothing stays buried for long. Bodies, grudges, secrets. They stay buried for a reason though, until an unfortunate soul decides to wander along and unearth them to satiate their burning curiosity.

And who said grudges were confined to one region only?

So is it really that surprising when your body ends up in his yard, neatly diced up and packaged into a box, miles away from that cursed town?

An eye for an eye. That’s the town’s motto. Nothing stays buried for long.

He stumbled upon something he shouldn’t have seen. Now, they took something equally valuable from him in return.

enjoyed my work? the taglist is open!

@ theother-victoria, do not copy, repost, modify, translate, or feed to ai

#stwf : pumpkin patch!#victoria.writes #dr ratio x reader #hsr x reader #dr ratio #dr ratio x y/n #dr ratio x you #hsr x y/n #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr x you #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr dr ratio #hsr fanfic

76 notes · View notes

art-that-fucks-you-up-tournament · 1 year ago

Text

SEMIFINALS MATCH ONE

"Can’t Help Myself" (2016 - Sun Yuan & Peng Yu) / "NAMES Project AIDS Memorial Quilt" (1985-present)

CAN'T HELP MYSELF: It’s better to watch a video of it in action. It’s a large robot arm that’s only programmed to repeatedly sweep a pool of red liquid around it. But its task is never done, the liquid eventually oozes back out onto the floor. It just makes me so sad, the futility of its work. Brilliantly, the artists even programmed it to do little gestures during its work. Sometimes the arm will shake or almost wave at the audience. So it feels less mechanical, like it has a personality. People have interpreted it to symbolize many ideas. Like the futility of violence, and those who are tasked with the endless recovery and clean up. It could be about worker exploitation, the dehumanization of victims of violence, policing borders. Regardless of what it means, I feel pity whenever I see it. (nicolaleecallahan)

NAMES PROJECT AIDS MEMORIAL QUILT: fucks me up bc so many people died and so many people suffered and their partners didn’t have legal rights as next of kin and so many had been disowned by their parents and had to be held by a stranger while they were dying and if i could resurrect anyone in the world i’d dig up either reagan or thatcher and kill them again (jaskierx)

("Can't Help Myself" is a Kuka industrial robot made of stainless steel and rubber mopping up cellulose ether in coloured water made by two Chinese artists, Sun Yuan & Peng Yu. This installation was displayed in Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum, New York but was removed from display.

The "NAMES Project AIDS Memorial Quilt" is an ongoing community art project honoring people who passed away due to AIDS-related causes. It consists of approximately 50,000 panels of 3 by 6 feet (0.91 m × 1.83 m) panels, which is an estimated 54 tons of material. It is currently housed in San Francisco, but is often displayed in various places in the United States.)

#art that fucks you up tournament #polls #atfyu polls #id in alt text #gonna finally start posting the extra commentaries during this week

311 notes · View notes

unsoundedcomic · 16 days ago

Text

Whumptober 2024 - 19 - "Blood Trail"

I do not celebrate my Aldish heritage. Ere my father bedded my mother, no form came to me by post polling me on the country in which I would prefer she push me out. Men who make over that accident have little else to make over, I have found. They would march for their aorta or their opposable thumb, if either were assigned a flag. Offer a plaque and a slap on the ass for the act of filling a commode, and they would demand both.

I cannot deny my Aldish boyhood left me with thick blood and hot lungs, however. Like the woolly snakes and the unnros, I can bear the cold.

Knowing this, you cannot dismiss me when I stress to you, reader, that Anchert island causes even this son of Alderode to shiver. Surrounded by icebergs, this frozen slice of risen Hell lurks at the far northeast of the world, cut off from the khert and overrun by savage Mmatont. The only way to tell it is land and not another berg is the darkness of its spruce-covered single mountain, and the few specks of firelight that burn therein.

There is only one way to reach the detestable place: a small craft on a moonless midnight, under the care of a pilot that knows the patrol patterns of the local police skiffs. I have never liked giving up coin - nor control - to these green-stinking hoods. There is no alternative. The khert-lines do not extend past the Tainish shore of the mainland. I cannot offset there.

I had never visited Anchert with Rahm, and he'd never been at all. As our boat docked inconspicuously on the great island's least populated shore, I watched him closely. I had chosen a smart, double-breasted wool coat, warm pymaric boots with a three week charge, blood red swineletskin gloves, a cosy muffler of feathers and fur.

Rahm was wholly quilted. Like a bedspread. I think Iori had dressed him.

"Man should not be here," he muttered, rasping his hands together and stomping his feet, "We were not designed to be here. The makers set aside the north for white bears and fat waterbitches; and Alderode stole it from them."

"Watch yourself," I whispered, crushing close to confer a bit of warmth, "They do not like the A-word here. The Mmatont would have every Ald out of Tain, had they their way."

"Well, I can see how they've so far managed it with this island. No sane person would want to live here. Is that why Alderode has let them be?"

I suppose that could be the case. The Mmatont - that is, the modern Tains who occupy Anchert - have long foolishly demanded that Alderode return their ancestral valley to them, and in fact, all of pymary. I will spare you the uninteresting history of it all, but they only agreed to meet Rahm and myself tonight because he is Crescian and I am a stateless fiend and we both are Black Tongues. Alderode happily hates the two of us as much as they hate the Mmatont, and the Mmatont hate them.

It was a few hours tedium disembarking. We hired servants to haul our trunks to our arranged lodgings inside of the mountain, and paid the stinking pilot a criminal amount of money. He promised to be back the next evening. Soon enough but not as soon as I'd have liked, Rahm and I were following a swarthy towhead deep underground.

The pissmop was dressed all in natty furs, and carried an open flame torch like some manner of primitive. What a hoot! What a safari. Rahm raised an eyebrow, pulled a pymaric light from his pocket. I shook my head. These freaks thought pymary should have remained with their ancestors. If he or I were going to cast or use any of our modern devices, it might raise the curtain on inconvenient drama.

"I suppose I can understand why the formulas have remained hidden here," whispered Rahm in Continental. Why was he whispering? I doubt the pissmop could understand. "It's wholly counterintuitive that something so helpful to burgeoning technology might be found in this backwards mountain."

Rahm tucked the little pymaric away, looking about at the living stone walls and the evidence of the painstakingly slow and primitive pymary that had formed them thousands of years ago. It must have been all State change and Heat siphoning to create the Contour, then Mass displacement to crack the block from the root; finally a reversal to haul each slab outside. I could still see the corrugations in sections of the wall; time had worn the floor smooth as a mill pond.

"They weren't always backwards," I pointed out.

"Even when Tainish civilisation was at its high peak, they knew nothing of Sounding. How-"

"The Tains didn't write these formulas, Raptor. The agib did."

My Crescian friend shook his head ruefully. "Do they even know what they have? They wouldn't need to live like this if they'd sell some of their secrets."

"Nationalism," I explained at his temple, and my breath made his wee feather earring dance, "Too many fools live and die unable to see beyond the colour of the dirt their mother shit them into. Oh, to beat your chest in the mud."

"But they're letting us in. Surely the fools understand we won't be keeping this to ourselves."

I nodded. "They do, but small men are weak to that other great psychological bugbear: you see, their god has TOLD them they must-"

The toe of my boot caught on an uneven seam in the floor, and only grasping Rahm's elbow kept me upright. I looked down.

"Rahm!" I called reflexively, "Rahm. Blood."

He clawed the clasp of his quilted coat open, then hiked up its long skirts to keep them from the gore. It was still red and tacky - sticky - and ran in a trail ahead of us down the black corridor.

"Just where are you leading us!" he demanded of the pissmop.

Our guide seemed confused at first, then saw the shock on our faces, saw the blood, and laughed. "You're not in danger, Black Tongues." His features were sharp in the firelight. His teeth too white, too sharp. I did not care for the effect at all.

"I know we're not," answered Rahm haughtily, seguing smoothly to only slightly accented Tainish, "But you are. If you plan to ambush us, do it now. Here. There's already a mess to be cleaned, and I can end your life with a minimum of additional blood spilled. I'd hate to put out our hosts any more than we have."

Very sexy, Raptor.

The pissmop smirked. He raised a mollifying hand and said again: "You are not in danger, Black Tongues. If you want your poxy numbers, follow me."

"Bastion," Rahm breathed, "Going any further seems stupid even for you."

"I know," I sighed in return, "But I want the poxy numbers."

In the end, Rahm had promised me. And I knew there was something here that he wanted too. With the trail of blood between us, we hurried to catch up with the Soud.

((To be continued))

#whumptober #unsounded #it goes whumpy next part :)

45 notes · View notes

aestheticaltcow · 4 months ago

Text

Anywhere

Rhett Abbott x Reader

A rejected marriage proposal and a desire to leave Wabang leaves Rhett in an interesting situation.

Outer Range Masterlist

You were awoken by pounding on your front door. A low wince came from your throat as the pounding intensified. “I’m comin’... I’m comin’...” you groaned as you got out of bed, draping your quilt over your shoulders as you walked out of your bedroom into the open, free-flowing vibe of the rest of your small apartment. You paused before opening the door. You should take that picture frame down…

As you peered through the peephole, a mix of fear and resignation gripped you. “Com’on Sunshine- I know you’re home.” you sighed, your mind filled with weariness, as you opened the door to reveal none other than Luke Tillerson. “You gonna invite me in?” His voice, laced with a hint of charm, sent a shiver down your spine. You wanted to slam the door in his face and go back to bed, but as he towered over you, you knew he could force his way into your apartment if he really wanted to. You stepped aside and allowed Luke into the foyer. He removed his hat and set it on the small table you had beside the door.

You watched as Luke looked around your apartment. He scoffed slightly before putting his hands on his hips and turning his attention to you, “Why’d you say no?” he huffed. You took a shallow breath and watched Luke’s features harden. He was never your biggest fan, but when you’d told your now ex-high-school-sweetheart the infamous William “Billy” Tillerson ‘no’ to his incredibly romantic marriage proposal two weeks ago, Luke’s general dislike turned to hate.

Billy had been the perfect boyfriend in high school and was really great when you’d gone away for college while he’d opted to stay home due to Wayne’s dwindling health. He was patient with you; he would drive from Wabang, Wyoming, to Vermillion, South Dakota, for every sorority event every softball game, and practically became your sugar daddy so you could focus on your studies. He was supportive in every way possible. He was proud of you and was content just sitting on your dorm room floor, staring at you as you did homework. As long as he got to spend time with you. After you’d graduated and moved back home, Billy thought it was time to ‘make an honest woman out of you,’ as Wayne would say. He didn’t want to rush anything; the two of you had been together for eight years, but he could wait another eighty if it meant being with you forever. You worked at the police station to get real-world experience before applying to either law school or the FBI- you still hadn’t decided what you wanted to do with your future, but you felt Billy wouldn’t be in it.

You knew Billy was planning something. He was never really the subtle type; the bells rang when he’d asked you on a picnic one warm spring afternoon. You’d been back home for a few months and were officially independent from your parents. You were itching to get out of Wabang again. Billy drove the two of you out into the Northern pasture of the Tillerson Ranch, a vast expanse of green that stretched as far as the eye could see. In the spring, a large patch of wildflowers would bloom just outside the woods, adding a burst of color to the landscape. It was beautiful and secluded. Billy pulled out all the stops- it had been a great afternoon until he got down on one knee and presented you with a goddy diamond ring. He made a speech about how you were the love of his life, and he wanted the entire world to know. You watched the hopeful boyish smile leave his face as you started apologizing- “You don’t wanna marry me?” “No, Billy- I’m so sorry I just… I don’t know what I want.”

You got up, wrapping your cardigan around your body tightly before running away from Billy. Your dress was riding up, but you didn’t care. You needed to get out of there. You weren’t sure how you’d managed to get to the road between the Tillerson and Abbott ranches before dark, but as you started the daunting walk back to the city, you’d absolutely shattered Billy’s heart, and you didn’t know if you’d ever forgive yourself. A horn honked behind you; as you looked over your shoulder, you paused in your step as none other than Rhett Abbott pulled up beside you. “Shouldn’t your guy be drivin’ you home?”

When you burst into tears, Rhett stared at you like a deer in the headlights. He put his truck in park before hopping out and guiding you to the passenger’s side door. He helped you into the cab while you continued to sob fat tears, your body wracked with uncontrollable sobs. You didn’t care that Rhett saw you ugly crying- he didn’t know what to say or what to do. He thought about how he’d comforted Amy the first time she’d fallen off a horse, he figured since you were crying in a similar way- maybe it would help. You retracted when you felt his large, calloused hand pat your shoulder. He pulled his hand away, shifted his truck back into drive, and slowly made his way down the dirt road that led back to the city. He let you cry, unsure of what to say or what to do. He turned on the radio and drummed his thumbs along to the song that filled the cab.

When Rhett pulled up to your apartment complex, you whimpered out a ‘thank you’ and reached for the door handle. “Do you want me to come inside with ya?”

Luke stared at you, waiting for a response. You sighed and wrapped yourself tighter, “Luke- I… uh, I just-” you stared before Luke cut you off with a loud scoff. “Billy has treated you like a goddam princess since high school! Just fuckin’ marry the poor kid!” he yelled, stepping closer to you. You shuttered at the sudden movement. Luke noticed and pushed a hand through his hair, “Look, Billy stopped singing. Don’t get me wrong- I like the quiet, but the crying… just tell him you’ll marry him.”

You shook your head, “I’ve hurt him enough, Luke… please leave.” you instructed as you opened the door. Luke huffed one last time before taking his hat from the table, “You should take that picture down.” he retorted before slamming the door behind himself. You sighed and looked longer at the picture frame by the door. It was a simple silver frame engraved with 9/2/16 at the top. In the frame was a collage of pictures of you and Billy from high school and a few from when you were in college. You couldn’t take it down but couldn’t look at it.

It had been a long week at work; you were tired and lethargic and absolutely did not want to go out with your friends that Saturday night. Walking into the bar that night, you saw Trevor Tillerson trying to cozy up with Maira Olivares. One Tillerson was one too many for tonight, you just hoped that Billy stayed home tonight. You followed your friends over to a booth in the back and quickly put in an order for drinks.

After a couple of hours, you’d begun to enjoy yourself- your friend Sara was indulging the group with a story about some guy she’d been hooking up with as the five of you were throwing back shots when a waitress walked up and handed you a drink and handed it to you. “Guy at the bar sent this for ya.” she winked before walking away. A choir of ‘oooooo’s filled your booth, making you roll your eyes. “50 bucks; it was one of the Tillerson boys.” your friend Amanda laughed.

“Fuck off, Amanda- Trevor and Luke both hate my guts, and I don’t think Billy is here.” you craned your neck over to the bar and felt the air leave your lungs when Rhett tipped his hat in your direction. “I need some air,” you said abruptly as you got up and quickly headed toward the exit. You weren’t looking where you were going when you bumped into the last person you wanted to see right now, “Hey, Sunshine…” you winced at the low voice of none other than Billy Tillerson. You didn’t respond to his greeting as you exited the bar.

Rhett watched you from the bar. He’d always thought you were pretty back in high school. He was a couple of years older than you, and you’d been practically inseparable from Billy Tillerson since the two of you had gotten together during your freshman year- Rhett’s senior year. Since that night he drove you back to your apartment and hung out inside for a few hours. He couldn’t get you out of his head. When he saw you walk in with your girlfriends, he felt it was safe to make a move. He and Perry had come out to get a beer and unwind. Perry knew about his little crush on you, before a few weeks ago he’d thought it had gone away. Rhett had told him about a date he’d gone on with Maria, but it was like a light switch went off when he found out about you and Billy breaking up; he was over Maria and now head over heels with you. Perry found it amusing; he figured his brother would never tie himself down with a wife or kids, but when he saw how Rhett was looking at you, he was second-guessing himself.

You pushed your hands through your hair as you took a deep breath outside, you were trying to ground yourself, but all of that went to shit when Rhett walked outside. “Hey.” he greeted you with his crooked smile. You groaned and walked in the other direction, “Rhett, please just leave me-” Rhett cut you off midsentence with a deliciously sweet kiss. His lips tasted like the beer he’d been drinking. With one hand on your waist and the other on your cheek, he pulled you close to his body as he pushed his tongue into your mouth. You kissed him back and looped your arms around his neck as the kiss raised in intensity, Rhett was the one to end it. “Let’s go somewhere. Anywhere,” he mumbled.

“Rhett- I - I can’t.” you studdered as you tangled your fingers in his hair. “Runaway with me, Sweetheart. Anywhere you wanna go, we’ll go.” Rhett said as he ran his thumb against your cheekbone, “Anywhere you want, Baby. Anywhere.”

“You fuckin’ whore.” Trevor howled. He’d come outside to smoke but to discover you in Rhett Abbott’s arms was a slap in the face. “My brother isn’t good enough for you, but this fuck up is? You broke his fuckin’ heart, you fuckin’ whore!” his yells got louder, and you pushed Rhett away before wiping the corner of your mouth to wipe away your smeared lipgloss. You looked between the men and felt shame crash over you. Rhett walked up to Trevor and pushed him back, “Don’t call her a whore.” he spat. Trevor rolled his eyes as he chuckled, “Well, she shouldn’t act like one then.” he pushed Rhett back. The two stared each other down as the bar doors opened.

Perry joined the group in the parking lot. “Everythin’ okay out here?” he questioned as he adjusted his hat, “This don’t concern you, Perry.” Trevor spat in his direction. Perry shifted his gaze to you. You shook your head, hoping this wouldn’t become a parking lot fight. There was a moment of silence before the other Tillerson brothers came outside. You looked at Trevor and pleaded with him not to tell Billy what he’d walk in on. He shook his head and didn’t bother to stifle his laughter, “Your little girlfriend here is just a worthless whore, Billy.”

Billy shook his head. He didn’t want to believe what his brother said. “Don’t say that Trevor…” he stared at the ground. His stomach twisted as Trevor continued ranting about your supposed promiscuity. Billy wiped his eyes with the back of his hand before looking up at you. Your hair was longer than he remembered. Although they were filled with tears, you still had the prettiest eyes he’d ever seen. Billy wanted nothing more than to reach out and hug you until his arms fell off. “Guess you lucked out, Billy- she probably woulda tried passing off Rhett’s kid as yours.” Trevor laughed. He was trying to get a rise out of you, “Shut the fuck up, Trevor!” Billy yelled, closing the distance between the two of them before finally punching him.

Billy shook his hand out as Luke finally intervened in the situation. Billy pushed Luke away from him before turning his attention back to you. “Are you okay, Princess?”

You slowly nodded, finding comfort in the pet name. “Okay,” Billy sighed. He glared in Rhett’s direction before walking off in the opposite direction. You’d had enough for the evening. Rhett reached out for your hand only to be smacked away. “Just- just leave me alone, Abbott. Please,” you begged. Rhett took a step back, and you went back into the bar to find your friends and go home.

You couldn’t take it anymore. After weeks of gossip behind your back and judgemental stares from the older women in the community, you needed to leave Wabang. The day you’d gotten your acceptance letter to Texas A&M School of Law was the best day you’d had in weeks. You found an off-campus apartment and a job at a local law firm. Everything was set for the big move, but there was still one thing you had to do before you could run away to Texas for your new start.

“Hey.” you half-heartedly grinned when Billy opened the door. “Hi,” he said as he stepped onto the front porch. “I got into law school… I’m leaving tomorrow, but I wanted to say bye to you.”

“I knew you’d get in. You’re smart.” Billy chuckled as he rubbed his arm awkwardly.

“I love you so much. Thank you for everything you did for me. I couldn’t have done it without you.” you softly smiled as you reached out for one last hug. Billy smiled the goofy smile you’d loved since the day the two of you met in freshman biology. He wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder.

“If you love something, let it go…” he mumbled into the crook of your neck, making you giggle as you gave him a squeeze. “I love you Y/N. I’m always gonna love you.”

The two of you stood there longer than you should’ve; it felt nice and nostalgic. When he released you from his grip, it was freeing. “Just promise you aren’t movin’ to Texas with Rhett Abbott,” Billy pleaded as he walked you back to your car. You laughed and said, “No, Billy, I’m not moving to Texas with Rhett Abbott.”

While you hadn’t planned on moving away with Rhett, he had other plans. You didn't know what to say when he showed up on your doorstep a few weeks after you’d settled.

“I said anywhere, Baby, and I guess that’s Texas.”

100 notes · View notes

bettyfrommars · 2 years ago

Text

I'm on Fire

biker!Eddie Munson x fem!artist!Reader

Part 5

18+Only, MDNI, implied smut, eventual smut, biker gang, violence, aggression, boxing, street fighting, alcohol consumption, slow burn, mutual pining, mature themes, angst, jealous!Eddie, first kiss, brief mention of what reader is wearing, mention of blood.

Word count: 8.4k

Series Masterlist

In part 5, a new situation blossoms between your roommate Katie and Robin Buckley, while you get up the nerve to give Eddie a call. Eddie gets questioned by the police (Chief Hopper) and you go to your first Fight Night, where the adrenaline-fueled dramas are plentiful. You and Eddie finally enter new and intimate territory.

I do re-read these several times, but it's almost impossible for me to edit my own work, so I hope it's not too fraught with errors.

“Tell me now, baby, is he good to you?

Can he do to you the things that I do?

I can take you higher.”

______

Around 8 o’clock the next morning, Robin and Steve were moving around the kitchen, bumping into each other like zombies, making coffee and dolling out the ibuprofen into each other’s palms. They both had the day off, but Wayne would be dropping Oliver by soon, and they had to get ready to be semi-functioning parents again.

Their voices were just below a whisper though, and their footsteps light as they tried to step on the parts of the old floor that didn’t creak, doing their best not to wake Katie who was asleep on the sofa in the living room.

Steve found Robin leaning against the archway that separated the two rooms, staring at the form of a body all wrapped up like a burrito in a red and white quilt, facing the back of the sofa, the top of her head the only visible part of her body.

They both had coffee mugs in their hands, steam rising from the freshly poured brew.

Steve nudged Robin with his elbow, his voice nothing but a scratchy murmur. “Should I wake her?”

“Don’t you dare,” Robin returned, quickly. “It’s her spring break, let her have a few more minutes.”

Steve put the rim of his mug to his lips and took stock of Robin’s smile as she watched Katie twitch in her sleep.

About a half hour after Eddie left the night before, you started to hit a wall as far as socializing went, and asked Katie if she was ready to hit the road. Katie, Robin, and a couple others were just setting up a folding table to play a game of cards, but you could feel your eyes drooping and knew you wouldn’t make it much longer.

“She can sleep here,” Robin said to you, but then realized she might have jumped the gun, fueled by her own enthusiasm for the idea. She turned to Katie, “if you want to, that is. You can stay here with me...on me...on our couch, I mean.”

Katie wasn’t one to casually “crash” at people’s houses; she loved waking up in her own bed. But, she was having an incredibly good time, and she didn’t want you to have to be forced to stay sober and wait for her, so she took Robin up on her offer.

You wondered if Katie might regret her decision in the morning, based solely on the fact that she was three sheets to the wind, and waking up with a hangover in a strange house is never optimal, but the intense flirting going on between her and Robin gave you all the reasoning you needed.

There were a few times you noticed Steve flirting with Katie, but she would always gravitate back to Robin; it was a fascinating triangle that you enjoyed being a witness to.

Back at the house that next morning, Robin let out a heavy sigh, and lifted her eyes to Steve for a beat before directing them back to Katie on the couch. “I think I’m going to need to take this one off your hands, Dingus.”

Steve swallowed a sip that was a bit too hot and clicked his tongue, the sides of his mouth jerking down. “Oh, I figured as much.”

Robin knew she wouldn’t get much of a fight out of him. Sure, he was attracted to Katie, but she was currently just one out of many crushes and conquests he had going on. The fact that he knew what it was like to kiss her, and been inside of her, made Robin jealous more than anything, but the second she felt her affection for Katie reciprocated, all bets were off.

“Besides,” Robin murmured just as they heard Wayne’s truck coming up the driveway. “She has already drooled on my pillow. It’s meant to be.”

Fully awake and playing possum, Katie’s nose was pressed against the back of the sofa, and a huge smile spread across her face.

----------

Later that afternoon, Eddie had a truck on the lift at his garage, wrenching away under the hood in his coveralls, hair tied back, Faith No More belting out from the stereo, when one of the other mechanics called over to him: “Munson, we’ve got company.”

It didn’t scare Eddie that the police were here, but it annoyed him. Getting questioned by Chief Hopper was standard procedure whenever the Coffin Kings were involved with something---whether Eddie played a part in it or not.

It just so happened that this time, he had played a part. He hadn’t been involved in the actual hand off at the Illinois border, but he rode as protection, hired muscle to bulk up their numbers to deter other gangs from trying to infiltrate their run. He never asked too many questions mostly because, in this particular situation, ignorance was bliss. The trade off had gone as planned, but an informant had tipped off the police about the delivery, and that’s what Hopper was there about.

“Hey, Jim, how’s the family?” Eddie came out to the parking lot to meet him at his bronco, leading with the standard polite banter they always started out with. Any other police Chief would’ve sent an officer out to ask these questions, but Jim did it himself as a courtesy because he liked Eddie, and he’d known the kid since he was in high school.

Hopper had on his tan uniform and hat, silver hair dusting his temples and mustache. “Oh, you know, the wife keeps me busy,” he grinned, referring to Joyce Byers. “All the kids have families of their own now, so the holidays are a nightmare.”

“I bet.” Eddie said it like he understood, but he had no idea what it was like to have a big, extended family.

Jim put one hand on his hip and asked about Wayne and Oliver, and then he took a deep breath before asking if Eddie knew anything about the run the Coffin Kings did the night before, and the stash of guns missing from a local warehouse.

Eddie creased his forehead like he was considering the question, and then shook his head. “The guys come here to have their bikes worked on, but I don’t get involved in that other shit. My days as a criminal on the run are behind me.”

Jim looked relieved by the lie. “I figured as much,” he shifted the brim of his hat. “I still have to ask where you were last night, just for the sake of the paperwork.”

That next part was easy, because he didn’t have to make too much of it up. The barbecue went late and he crashed at Steve and Robin’s.

“They’ll confirm this?”

Robin knew the drill, he never had to wonder. He did have to admit though, the little white lies were getting to him. He wasn’t a fan of cops in general, in the first place, but Jim had always been decent to him. He was doing his best to move away from the outlaw world, but it had been a part of his life for so long, it had its claws in him.

Once the serious questions were over, they both relaxed back into the banter of two people who had known each other for over a decade and cared about each other as friends do. Jim headed around to the driver’s side of his bronco and Eddie kept pace with him.

“We’re hosting another Fight Night here this weekend,” Eddie told him, gesturing with a tilt of his chin to where they usually set the ring up at. “You should come, have a few beers. Bring Joyce.”

Hopper chuckled. “Joyce should get in the ring, she’d wipe the floor with all of you.”

“I have no doubt,” Eddie grinned, thinking about that tiny firecracker of a woman. “If I were a betting man, all of my money would be on her.”

Jim got in behind the wheel and shut the door, leaving his window down. “Thanks for the invite. I’ll check and see if my warden has other plans for me.”

They said their goodbyes, and Eddie stayed to watch him exit the compound, offering a wave as he went.

That night, Eddie came out of the shower and into the bedroom of his apartment enveloped in a cloud of steam, with nothing but a dark blue towel wrapped around his waist, and wet hair hanging down his shoulders. He gave the phone on the nightstand a cautious look when it started ringing, his mind racing with all of the people he did not want to hear from at that late hour.

When he finally picked it up just before the fourth ring with a suspicious and informal, “Yeah?” his heart stuttered in his chest to find out that the person at the other end of the line was you.

--------

“So, are you two a couple now?” You asked Katie once you got home from work to find her giddy about the new developments between her and Robin.

“We haven’t even kissed yet,” Katie said from where she was at kitchen counter, washing lettuce for a salad. “But by lesbian standards, we’ll probably be moving in together next week.” It was a joke, of course, but there was also an element of truth there.

You sat down at the kitchen island to rest your chin on your fist. “I like you with Robin. Much better than Kelsey.” Kelsey was a long distance girlfriend that Katie had stayed faithful to for over a year before she realized that she was being cheated on mercilessly.

“Ugh,” Katie shivered at the thought. “You can’t even compare the two. Not even from the same universe.”

“What about you?” Katie asked as you slumped over with your coat still on and your bag over your shoulder. “Did Eddie break the seal yet?” She turned to raise her eyebrows a few times, suggestively.

“Please,” you barked a laugh. “At this rate, we’ll be in the nursing home before this escalates to dry humping,” as much as you were ready to crack jokes, the fact that he wasn’t jumping down your throat like every other guy made you like him even more. “I think he’s kind of shy, like me.”

“Wait, you’re shy?” Katie snickered.

“You know what I mean. Cautious, reserved: insert appropriate adjective here.”

“What is this, Mad Libs for dysfunctional adults?”

You let out a pensive sigh, your shoulders dropping. “Am I an adult? Because I haven’t felt this goofy over a guy I haven’t even kissed yet since I was a tween.”

Katie stopped what she was doing and dug in the front pocket of her jeans. “That reminds me. This is for you. It’s from Steve.”

With a tired frown on your face, you opened the lined notebook paper to see a phone number written in black ink, with Eddie’s name on top of it.

What were you so afraid of? He was just a hot, hard working, tattooed biker dude, with soft lips and kind eyes who you could absolutely see yourself falling in love with. What was there to be hesitant about??? Call him!

No...wait….

------------------

It took you a few hours to build up the courage, but you finally got settled on the wicker chair in your room with your Conair clear phone with neon insides balancing on your knee.

It was a while before he answered, and you were just about to hang up when his voice came on the line, stern and gruff.

“Yeah?” He didn’t sound glad to hear from you, but to be fair, he didn’t know it was you, yet.

You cleared your throat. “Hello, I’d like to speak to Mr. Edward Munson, please. Is he in the office today?”

Relief flooded through Eddie’s body, pumping refreshing blood into his heart when he recognized your voice. “He’s not here at the moment, you might want to try is vacation home in Greece.”

“I’m not here either,” you teased. “I’m calling you from outer space.”

Wet hair dripping down his chest, Eddie brought the phone closer and sat down on the edge of the bed, hard pressed to wipe the grin off of his face.

“I...called to let you to know I was thinking about you,” it just came bubbling out. There would be no pretense of hard to get here, you had no game.

The sincerity struck him dumb for a moment, but then, he wrapped one arm around his chest, tucking his hand into his armpit, giving himself an excited squeeze. “Yeah? Well, that’s a coincidence because I was just thinking about you while I was in the shower.”

Munson! *internally slaps forehead* Don’t tell her you were in the shower, god. She’s going to think you were doing exactly what you were doing which was jerking it to the thought of her being in there with you.

“I mean, when I got out of the shower, and saw your painting, I thought about you,” his eyes closed at the pathetic nature of that rebound.

You skipped over all of that and jumped to that next thing he just said. “You hung my painting in your apartment?”

He looked over at the painting in question, adjusting the towel at his hips. “Of course, silly. Where did you think I would put it? Above the bar at the Hideout?”

You fiddled the phone cord, twisting it around your finger. “I was thinking it would go in your coffin or tomb, wherever you sleep at night.”

He gave a low grumble of a laugh. “Oh that painting is definitely getting buried with me, I can promise you that.”

The conversation ebbed from talking about work, to asking about family. You learned that Eddie’s uncle Wayne was like a father to him, and that his biological parents were no longer a part of his life. This mirrored your loneliness at the fact that your father passed away two years ago and you weren’t close with your mother. You didn’t have the equivalent to an uncle Wayne though, but you wished that you did.

After a half hour or so, Eddie said, “hold on for just a second? I need to put some clothes on,” and your brain plummeted off a cliff to a really dirty place. Had he been naked for the entire time?

There was a dragging sound and a click as he picked the receiver up again, “sorry about that. I’m back.”

“I know it’s late,” you were trying to pull your thoughts out of the gutter, but they were rolling around in the mud, kicking their feet and giggling. “I should probably let you--”

“No, I mean, I’m not---” he stretched out on the bed and put his head on the pillow, his hand on his stomach. “Unless you need to go. I like the sound of your voice.”

“Well, you see, I don’t have any clothes on either. So, if you’re dressed, then I might as well throw something on too.”

“Wait, what?” Eddie stiffened, his eyes bulging wide for a blink. Was she serious?

“Clothes are so retraining. I want to be free, Eddie.”

He snorted and ran his hand up and down his belly. You were joking. But, now he was picturing you naked and his cock was growing. He reached down to palm it over his gray sweats, hoping to calm the beast. Phone sex was not out of the question, and he’d jump at the chance if you were down, but he was enjoying the soothing effect you had on him; it was the first night in a while that he felt relaxed and not pacing around the room, moodily spinning his wheels.

You were telling him the story of how you and Katie met, because he asked, and, as you did, he stretched over to flick the bedside lamp off so that he could close his eyes and let your voice wash over him in the dark.

“What about that fight thing Robin mentioned? Is that still happening?” You asked, and then you heard a soft little snort, as if he had drifted off to sleep for a second. You were snuggled down in the cushions of your chair with your cat Charlie in your lap, and your head snapped up. “Eddie?”

“I’m here,” he groaned in a whisper. “Sorry sweetheart, I don’t know what is happening to me.”

Sweetheart.

“Oh, I have a plethora of boring stories that will have you seeing sheep in no time, trust me.”

“You’re not boring,” he smiled against the phone. It was like you could hear his smile, day old stubble scratching against the receiver, a bit of saliva popping at the corner of his mouth. “You’re one of the most unique, interesting people I’ve ever met.”

There was a self-deprecating urge to quip, “well, then you haven’t met many people,” but you decided to just accept the compliment and move on.

He hadn’t planned on inviting you to Fight Night, only because it was a powder keg of testosterone and booze, and he didn’t think you’d be into it. He had grown up on the streets, thinking that getting into fist fights was the norm, but then in high school, Wayne got him into boxing, and he was grateful for the form, cadence, and stamina it afforded him.

Also, what if he lost the fight? Highly unlikely unless he decided to throw it on purpose, but did he want you to see that? Did you even want to see that? But Robin had already mentioned it, and he didn’t want you to think he didn’t want to see you.

“Yeah, the fights are Friday night, here at the compound. It’s pretty lame, actually. Lots of grunting and dick measuring,” he exhaled a heavy breath, his eyelids fluttering. “I would love to...take you on a date though, a real one. Somewhere nice.”

“It doesn’t have to be too nice,” you bit your lip, hoping he didn’t think you needed the full white tablecloth experience like some other women he knew. A cozy dinner and a movie was the type of scene you preferred. “You might be surprised at what a cheap date I am.”

“Back to The Hideout it is,” he clapped his hand to his chest, finishing with a throaty, warm chuckle.

You could tell he was fading away, and so you thought up a story to tell him; it was a personal favorite about a road trip you took with your dad when you were little. You knew any story would do because, after about 5 minutes, you heard his breathing get progressively heavier until there was a slight whistle in his nose at the intake of breath. So, you finished the story, and then held the phone close to your ear for way too long just to listen to him breathing.

“Sweet dreams my Eddie,” you whispered just before you reluctantly disconnected.

-------------

The next morning, Eddie woke up feeling more refreshed than he had in months. He had a solid 7 hours of sleep, which was unheard of lately, and it put an honest to god spring in his step. Of course, when he realized that the phone was by his head omitting a blank dial tone, he cursing himself for an early sleep to embrace him on that night of all nights. He’d just slipped into oblivion while you were talking to him, lulled to sleep by your sweet voice. He thought he had dreamed it, but now he was sure that you had said goodnight to him. Had you called him your Eddie? Maybe that part had been a dream, but not an impossible one.

--------------

While Katie had the week off, deservedly so, you were working overtime at the gallery to get ready for another show. Eddie called you on Wednesday night, but you got home way too late and had to hear his message on the answering machine because Katie was out somewhere with Robin. On Thursday night, you were there to answer his call, and the two of you talked for hours, even though you both agreed that you hated talking on the phone. Because of the new show at your gallery on Saturday night, the two of you made plans to go on an official date the following Tuesday, and Eddie told you he would pick the place, after asking a few questions about things that you liked.

There was still Fight Night on Friday to consider, but you got the feeling that the thought of you being there made Eddie uncomfortable. You had a strange protective nature that came over you when you cared about someone, though, and this nonsensical part of you want to be there to...make sure he didn’t get hurt? How would you manage that? You had very little to offer by way of physical strength, but you would, indeed, pull the fire alarm if Eddie looked like he was getting in over his head during the fight.

Robin and Katie and Steve were all going to be there, so you felt like it was the obvious plan. You even considered inviting Jeff because he was always complaining that there was nothing fun to do in town since he moved to the little hamlet from Chicago.

Also, you just really really missed Eddie, and wanted to see him. Tuesday was only a few days away, but it might as well have been a year.

----------

On Thursday night, Eddie fell asleep while on the phone with you again, as he told you he might, and you didn’t mind. Not only was he falling asleep, but he was officially falling for you and, for the first time in his life, he liked the way it felt. He got 8 hours of shut eye that night, on the eve of Fight Night, not realizing at the time how badly he would need it.

-------

The second Robin parked her jeep around the block for Fight Night, you understood why Eddie might not want you there.

It was like a carnival, but for booze, bikers, and strippers, complete with a DJ at a huge stereo system near the fence blasting out the song Only by Anthrax, and there were hot girls...so many of them...scantily dressed to kill, wandering around the property. White string lights draped around the fence, illuminating the walkway and there were also cast iron clad bonfires at every corner that groups huddled around. You weren’t even through the front gate yet, and you could already see two half naked women in the ring, executing a few pre-rehearsed wrestling moves for a bunch of howling bikers.

“What the hell?” Jeff murmured to you as three of the young, studly Prospect biker boys walked by, hair slicked back, wearing all leather. “Where have I been? Where did all these hot, dirty boys come from?”

He held onto your arm as you walked, hurrying up the sidewalk to the compound a few steps to catch up with Katie and Robin, both of whom were holding hands and taking turns leaning over to kiss each other as they walked. Steve was ahead of them, giving a signal to the bouncers at the gate to let them know that you were all with him before they let you in. He told you on the ride over that they had to have strict security at the event, and someone from the Coffin Kings, Westside Reapers, or Hell’s Belles (an all female MC) had to vouch for you, since the one time a rival gang showed up a few years back and there was a huge brawl.

“Hey, lovebirds,” you popped your face in between Robin and Katie’s pressed together shoulders just as they pulled back from another electric smooch. “No one told me this was basically a clothes optional event?”

Just inside the gate, as the three burly, bearded bouncers looked you all up and down, Robin turned and gave you a concerned look. “Eddie didn’t warn you about what a pussy fest this would be?”

Eddie had warned you, just not about that part specifically. You left the house feeling plenty cute enough in your skirt, fishnets and Doc Martens, but the fact that you had a shirt on over your bra made you feel extremely overdressed.

Eddie hadn’t even thought to mention the strippers and the arm candy and the groupies because he truly didn’t even give them a second thought. Since he met you, other women didn’t appeal to him beyond the casual acknowledgment of their attractiveness, and the whole scene just bored him damn near to death. Aside from a few exceptions being women who were taken by other guys in the club, Eddie could take any one of them up to his room at the drop of the hat, and that just wasn’t what he wanted anymore. The thrill was gone, as they say. He was up in his apartment doing some last-minute pushups as he listened to the crowd get rowdy down below. Steve called earlier to let you know that the girls were coming, including you, and for some reason, it gave him a nervous flutter in his stomach. He wasn’t too concerned about the other women bothering you, because he knew you had the confidence to handle your own. His worry had to do with the other dudes at that party and wanting to make sure none of them tried anything with you. Pity the fool who tried to make a move on you under his watch.

The parking lot of Munson’s Garage was huge, but that night it was still easy to bump shoulders with people as you walked because there were so many of them. There was a keg and two ice tubs full of beer, as well as the many flasks of hard alcohol you saw being passed around. You saw a beautiful woman with long black hair giving one of the bikers a lap dance, and then burst of cheering exploded in your ear as one of the women in the ring threw the other one against the ropes.

Steve was immediately manhandled by two of the tattooed groupies who could’ve been models and looked like twins. He gave a shy tilt of his head but a charming waggle of his eyebrows as they kissed his cheeks, rubbed his chest, and asked him where he’d been. Robin had one arm around Katie’s waist, and her other arm motioned for you and Jeff to follow them to get some beers.

You and Jeff both looked like the proverbial deer in headlights. Not even full-grown deer, but little baby does on wobbly knees who were looking for their mommy.

Jeff assessed the cans in the tub of ice. “Not a white wine spritzer in sight,” he muttered to you, but mostly to himself. “I am not excited for the beer bloat I am going to have tomorrow.”

“Your brave sacrifice has been noted,” you told him, reaching down for a can, while the girls chose to tap the keg. There was a small fee for the beer, and Robin threw some money in, letting you know she had the first round.

The music cut out suddenly as the women in the ring did a farewell pass around, picking up the cash that was being fluttered over the ropes to them. The DJ asked for applause for the girls, and then he announced the names for the first fight of the evening. According to Steve, the first couple fights would be mostly amateur hour, a few younger Prospects from the Coffin Kings, and a couple of the other gangs that were in attendance. After that, there’d be 3 main fights, all different weight classes, and Eddie’s was last. The fights were a mix of bare-knuckle boxing/kickboxing and mostly just for fun, but there was some friendly betting that went on, and there was always a chance for someone to get really hurt as the adrenaline ran hot. Eddie knocked his opponent out so hard last year, the guy confessed to actually seeing stars.

A tan, busty blonde in a red string bikini did a tour of the ring holding up the large card to give the official mark for round one. For the first two fights, you enjoyed the time with your friends, amused at how easily the beer was going down for Jeff, considering he supposedly didn’t like the taste of it. Robin introduced you to some of her friends who rode with the gang Hell’s Belles, and she introduced Katie once as her girlfriend, which was an accidental slip up, and she worried it was too soon, but, honestly, Katie liked it.

As the third and final amateur fight got underway, your eyes shifted up to Eddie’s apartment, and in that second, you decided that you couldn’t wait, that you needed to see him, you didn’t want to hold out until the end of the fights. You gave your beer to Jeff and told him to stay with Katie and Robin, and then you made your way over as Back in Black by AC/DC played for the first fighter walk-up.

The garage was locked up, and the porch to Eddie’s door was fenced off, but there were a couple of leggy girls in skintight dresses and stiletto heels hanging around just outside of it, near one of the fire pits, as if waiting for him. You excused yourself as you weaved around them, oblivious to their judgmental stares, angling with your hand to reach down and flick open the temporary fence gate.

“Excuse me, sweetie, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” The one who looked like Paris Hilton said, eyeballing your outfit.

You gave a broken laugh, confused. “I came to see Eddie, he’s a friend of mine.”

One of the other girls snorted, and Paris put her hands on her narrow hips. “He’s busy, sweetheart, but if you want to leave a message with me, I’ll be sure to pass it along.” She was not being sincere when she said it, in fact, the rest of them started giggling, mockingly so. They were all taller than you, but only because their heels put on another 4”.

She moved to block the gate, and before you could think of the next thing to say, the Paris girl was in your face again. “Like I said, sweetie, move along. There’s nothing for you here,” and then she flicked her hand a few times for emphasis.

Confusing your politeness for weakness was her first mistake. You took a step towards her, straightening your shoulders, narrowing your eyes on her obvious rhinoplasty. “I’m not going anywhere until I see Eddie.”

“Listen, bitch---” Paris crossed her arms and sent daggers from her eyes, just before she was cut off.

“Erika!” Eddie growled from the doorway; forehead clenched. “Move.”

Relief took the vise grip off of your chest at the sight of his face. Hulking in the doorway, he gave you a tilt of his chin, and then his attention went back to the Paris/Erika girl.

“Oh sorry baby,” Erika turned around, her voice high pitched, her demeanor completely changed. “I figured you didn’t want to be disturbed so I was---”

Eddie ignored her as he went over to unlock the makeshift fencing that he only put up for events so that he could have a space of his own. He had on a black muscle shirt with wide, scooped out arm holes so that his sides were visible and a pair of sweats. Heat radiated off of him and little hollow spot his throat glistened with sweat like he had just been working out, dark hair hanging long, passed his shoulders.

He held the short gate open for you, his back to Erika, as you scooted into the space. “You look good enough to eat,” his eyes traveled down your body and then back up to meet your eyes.

“In that case, I hope you’re hungry,” you replied with a coy grin. Your responses always caught him off guard and he blew a quick laugh out his nose. One of the guys in the ring got socked in the nose by his opponent and stumbled back against the ropes, dazed.

He locked the gate again and turned toward you, but you peeked around his body to make eye contact with Erika one last time. “Have a good night, sweetie,” you told her, flashing a fake smile.

The disgust and jealousy on her face was palpable and priceless.

You and Eddie hadn’t physically progressed beyond the point of brief handholding yet, but it felt like you hadn’t seen him in a month, and you needed to be close to him. You stepped forward, leaned against his chest, and pressed your cheek above his heart, ziplocking your body to his as your arms wrapped around his muscular frame, palms smoothing in circles on his back.

Eddie returned the embrace with a needful sigh. “Mhmm this is what I needed, right here,” he murmured, planting a kiss on the top of your head. The two of you just swayed there for a bit; he rocked gently, shifting his weight to each foot, taking you with him.

You tilted your head back to anchor your chin on his chest and he looked down to meet your eyes.

“I couldn’t wait till after the fight,” you admitted. “I missed you.”

When you declared your affection for him, even in the slightest way, it made his insides go all gooey and sweet, but it also made a part of him tense up, awareness of how lost in you he could get striking a healthy amount of fear in him. Putting his trust in someone, giving over his heart, had never gone well for him in the past.

“Yeah?” he used the tip of his fingers to push a few strands of hair off of your forehead, and then ran his knuckle down your cheek. “Well that’s funny, cause I’ve been missing you pretty bad too.”

The referee blew his whistle and called the fight. You and Eddie had a close view from the front of this place, and both of the guys coming down from the ring had swollen, cut faces, and one of them was limping. The DJ played Engine No. 9 by Deftones as they prepared for the main event fights.

“Who are you fighting tonight?” You asked as you slowly and reluctantly lowered your arms, and he did the same, but he kept one hand at your back, scooping you securely to his side, craving contact with you.

Eddie checked the crowd to see if he could spot the big redhead, but no luck; there were way too many fucking people there. “His nickname is Critter, he runs with the Westside Reapers. He’s a good fighter,” Eddie shrugged, and then he looked down at your concerned face, squeezing your shoulder. “but don’t worry, Princess, I’m better.”

“Hey War Machine,” a gruff voice came from the other side of the fence, near the garage. You both turned to see a tall, bald, older man in a Coffin Kings cut addressing Eddie. “Doc is ready for you.”

The guy wasn’t actually a doctor, but he was a medic, and he helped to tape up hands before the fights, and then tape up faces after. Eddie also needed to change his clothes and get all lathered up with Vaseline.

Eddie told him he’d be right there, and then his attention came back to you. “Wait for me after?”

You were smiling like an idiot at him, loving the hell out of his face. “Of course.”

You didn’t care if “after” meant 48 hours from now; you’d still be waiting there.

And then he kissed your forehead and went over to jump the fence.

---------

“Am I drunk, or is that guy really hot?” Jeff asked, nudging to direct your eyes over to a shy looking biker boy with a curly blonde pony tail and shockingly blue eyes. He had an absolute baby face, he couldn’t have been much older than 20.

“He’s definitely your type,” you assured him. “I think he’s been checking you out for a while, too.”

“Okay, so it’s not just my imagination?” Jeff balked, relieved that he hadn't lost his touch.

Just then, the guy lifted his hand in a covert wave, and Jeff mimicked it. “Oh my god, I love you for bringing me here,” Jeff whispered without moving his lips. “Besties for life.”

You bought the next round of beers just as the second main fight finished and it was about to be Eddie’s turn.

“Damn, I didn’t know I’d get this nervous,” you told Robin, looking down at your feet.

“It never gets easier to watch, I’ll tell you that,” she returned, agreeing with you, a smile in her eyes as she caught sight of Katie coming back through the crowd. But then her eyes shifted to see the genuine set of fear and concern on your face. “Hey, I know he’s kinda humble about it, but Eddie’s a beast, and he’s smart. He can take care of himself up there, don’t worry,” and then she rubbed her hand on your arm and it felt very warm and motherly.

Critter, the guy Eddie was fighting came out to a good amount of claps and shouts; he was a stocky redhead with his hair in a faux hawk, covered in really crude, homemade tattoos. He had on silky sapphire blue shorts and the word “REAPER” inked in large, old English letters across his upper back.

He bounced around in his corner, shaking his hands out, and working his neck.

Eddie came out to Walk by Pantera and everyone went nuts for him when they announce War Machine was entering the ring; arms all raised high, cupping hands around mouths to shout, a lot of fingers throwing up the symbol for devil horns. You wanted to be closer, so you pushed your way through the crowd, keeping your eyes on him as he came up the steps and climbed in through the ropes.

His chiseled but natural muscle tone literally glistened, accentuating the big tattoo on his chest, and now you could see that part of his was a menacing bat with fangs. Big tattoos on each bicep, and then there were a few on his forearms, and a couple designs on his thigh and back that you had never seen before. The other guy, Critter, had surprisingly skinny legs, like he spent his time training upper body and nothing else. Eddie’s physique on the other hand, was built for power at all angles. His shorts were black with a dark purple cluster of bats on one side, just like his tattoo.

You had never spent much time watching boxing, but for in the movies, and both of them had a “corner man” who helped to take care of them, and in this case, for Eddie, it was the bald, older Coffin King you’d seen earlier. Eddie had his hair tied back in a knot, and you watched as his corner man helped him secure his gloves as he bounced a little in place.

You got in as close as you could, not realizing at first that you were standing right behind Steve. You tapped him on the shoulder. “Is this guy any good?”

Steve looked at you over his shoulder. “Who? Eddie?”

“No,” for some reason, you were whispering even though the place was too loud for anyone to hear you. “The other one.”

He hitched his head to one side and brought his shoulder up. “Meh, he’s alright. Nothing to worry about.”

Once the fight started, Eddie wasn’t one to dive in for a kill; a big part of his advantage was how patient he was, and how well he was able to disconnect from his emotions. He had already scanned the crowd for you, knew exactly where you were, and his eyes would shift there from time to time.

Critter charged him like a bull, and Eddie stepped away so fast, the guy looked confused, like maybe he had suddenly elevated into the sky. The guy had a lot of energy and aggression, and those things alone had won fights before, so Eddie stayed alert.

Critter wasn’t great at keeping his guard up, and so Eddie lit a good one to the side of his head, and then a jab to the gut just before the two were asked to break apart for a minute.

“Do I know you?” A voice materialized at your ear. The ref had just told the two fighters to pause, and so you looked over to see who was asking.

It was another biker, but he didn’t look like he was with one of the gangs. He had an Ethan Hawke look about him. “I don’t think so,” you told him, eyes returning to the match.

“That’s crazy,” the guy kept talking, leaning closer to you, his stubble catching in your hair. “Cause I swear I recognize you from somewhere. What’s your name?”

For some reason, instead of telling him to buzz off, you gave him your name, and then he stuck his hand out to shake yours. “Nice to meet you, they call me Brick.”

Eddie was just getting ready to dodge a swing when he saw it: the dude leaning over, in your face, with your hand in his.

Critter made contact and clocked him a good one to the eye socket. Eddie stumbled back, blinking, his skull vibrating. It took him a second, but then he drove forward and caught Critter with a left hook, and then grabbed his head and slammed it into his knee---which was an illegal street fighting move, and the ref blew the whistle.

Your hand flew to your mouth with a gasp when Eddie got hit, but he seemed to recover fairly quickly and then went after the guy ten-fold, in a way that almost made you feel bad for Critter.

Suddenly, that emotionless, in control part of Eddie was slipping away, and all he could think of was how he didn’t want that guy to be anywhere near you. He wanted this fight to be over.

Critter caught him again because Eddie slipped his guard, and then he got a second one in the ribs for losing his concentration. He barreled down on Critter like a hammer after that, landing one after the other until the ref had to stop things and check on the other dude.

You hoped that the guy next to you finally got the hint that you weren’t interested in chatting, but he was still standing there, unnecessarily close, with his shoulder locked against yours.

“Do you live around here?” Brick continued.

You were just about to say it was none of his business when there was a lull in the crowd, and Steve heard his question. The flirtatious nature of his tone made Steve turn around to see who was talking.

He made eye contact with Brick and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Dude, get lost. Go find another girl.”

“Nah, I think I’m fine right here,” Brick countered, lifting his eyebrows.

The tension got thick real quick.

The fight in the ring started up again, but now Steve was turning all the way around to square his shoulders at Brick. “I said, get lost,” he enunciated every syllable with force, dark brown eyes glowing.

Eddie got jabbed in the kidney for pausing too long, and it was at that moment when he decided he was done with this shit. He took a giant step and cracked a tight punch to Critter’s jaw that actually made him spin half-way around in the air before dropping to the mat with a final thud. The ref blew the whistle, waved his arms like crazy, and then went over to make sure the dude was still breathing.

Eddie did not look happy as he jumped the ropes.

Steve hadn’t liked this guy at first glance, and now he was being disrespectful? Not happening.

Steve got up in Brick’s face, challenging him, chest to chest, and even though you were trying to back away as quickly as you could, the crowd behind you would not give. Brick brought his arms out to shove Steve back, and his elbow caught you in the mouth. You yelped as your head snapped back, teeth clamping onto your tongue, tasting blood, rocking on your feet.

Eddie was shoving people out of the way to get to you; he felt like things were moving in slow motion, like he was in some kind of nightmare where he couldn’t get to you in time and somehow you ended up getting really hurt. Finally, he was catching you by the arms and pulling you tight to his chest. Pieces of your hair glued to the stickiness of his skin as you clung to him for dear life. He took your face in his hands to find that your teeth were pink and a bit of blood was spilling from the side of your mouth, and a low growl escaped his throat. “Sweetheart,” he said softly, trying to wipe the blood from your chin with his thumb, but it only smeared, and angry tears welled in his eyes.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the guy swing at Steve, but it didn’t land, and Steve pushed him back with extreme force. Brick stumbled back, but then bounced off the hands of the crowd and returned like he was shot from a rubber band.

The crowd was jostling now, buzzing with shouts and people turning to see what was going on. Your vision was blurry. Some of them were yelling to break it up, but some of them wanted it to escalate.

“Steve...Eddie!” Robin screamed as she scrambled to come up next to you and Eddie, breathless, Katie and Jeff close in tow, all of them stressed out. Actually, Jeff looked more amused than anything and you knew he couldn't wait to retell this story.

“Take her,” Eddie said to Robin, passing you off reluctantly so that he could take care of business.

Eddie put his hand out to catch Steve’s shoulder and stop him in his tracks. “I got this,” he said, eyes narrowing on Brick.

Just as intimidated by Eddie as most people were, Brick took a stutter step before lashing out with his best punch, only to have it effortlessly blocked. Eddie got close enough to grab him by the jacket, making a tight fist in the material, yanking him closer, and Brick tried to get a punch in, but he didn’t have much reach. Eddie’s other hand reeled back to make a fist and land a bare-knuckle blow with just enough force to clock his lights out. Brick’s eyes rolled back in his head as he went limp in Eddie's grasp for a second and then fell sideways, and a couple of leather clad Hell’s Belles stepped out of the way so that the pavement could catch him.

Eddie and Steve walked over to stand above him, and found that the guy was stunned, eyes rolling in his head, but he was conscious. He really did have a hard head; now it made sense why they called him Brick.

Eddie spit on him. “I ever see you again, I’ll fucking kill you,” and then he looked around at all of the eyes on them, and added, “someone get this piece of shit out of here before the cops show up.” And then there were hands coming out everywhere to drag Brick away and throw him in a dumpster down the block where he could think about what he’d done.

You were scared of what Eddie would do to that guy, but you weren’t scared of Eddie. When he was on his way back, you slipped free of Robin’s grasp and met him half way, rushing into his arms, reaching up to feather your fingers over his swollen cheek and eye that was soon to blacken. There was hair stuck to his cheek and you smoothed it away just before he took your hand and kissed the middle of your palm. Most of the crowd went back to socializing as normal, as if this had been just a casual thing that they were used to, and the DJ started the music again.

Sinking into heavy, adrenaline fueled breaths, he held your chin in his curled knuckle while his other arm went around your waist. He brought his face close to yours, and cupped your throat, noses brushing side by side, foreheads touching, exchanging oxygen through parted lips, like two deep sea divers whose lives depended on it. You had wiped the blood from your chin, but you could still taste the copper penny tang, and he moved his mouth to plant a kiss on the side of your lips, softly, a low purr omitting from his chest as he did so.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice cracking, lips grazing, as your hands sought each other, trying to get as close as you could. He pulled back to inspect every inch of your face, and then brushed his lips over your mouth.

“I am now,” you told him.

He took your hand and held it to his chest, sweaty and still viscous with petroleum, oblivious to the rest of the party continuing on around you.

You could feel his mouth hovering, wanting more, but hesitant, so gentle. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he breathed.

“I can’t feel a thing,” you confessed, referring to your bitten and numb tongue. “But, my mouth is bloody.”

“I don’t care,” he said, and there was a bit of an eager whimper on the intake of breath as his plump lips melted onto yours, moaning as he did so, tightening his grip on you, grabbing your face, aching, feeding on the air from your lungs and your bloody kisses as the rest of the world faded away.

----------

“She took them both to the grave

to the grave

a pair of souls become undone

Where were two, now are one”

- Bloody Kisses, Type O Negative, 1994

----------

Part 6

----------

taglist 💕 @unfocused81 @manicmagicmahem @dream-a-little-nightmare @ms1oftheboys @emxcast @falling-solar-system @corrodedcoffincumslut @lofaewrites @nope-thanks @kelsiegrin

@tlclick73 @aysheashea @hellv1ra @bexreadstoomuch @kurdtbean

@seventhlevelofhell @stylesxmunson @ireidsmut

#eddie munson fanfic #eddiemunson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson au #90s au #1990s #eddie munson smut #older eddie munson #robin buckley #stranger things

503 notes · View notes

wafflefries13 · 6 months ago

Text

A Wolf In Wolf's Clothing

Summary: A forced retreat to the woods leads to meeting a couple of new friends, one furry and one furious.

AN: Another fic I wrote a while back, another than got eaten by Tumblr. Still pretty proud of this one! Repost.

Warnings: Werewolf au, cannon typical violence, language

It was fine. This was fine. Staying in a small cabin in the middle of the woods, getting back to nature, away from the city, away from those yakuza who were tracking you down because your dad had skipped out on the massive amounts of gambiling debt he had, and seriously, Dad, you knew he had a problem, not that he would ever listen to you, but did he really have to go and play mahjong, freaking mahjong, with some super sketchy people and really think everything was just going to be fine that he was going to be okay when he already had a massive pile of debt from that pyramid scheme that you told him was a pyramid scheme or the loss from that horse race last month, and seriously, Dad, this is why mom left-!

But it was fine. You were fine.

The cabin was small, a one room structure that gave you flashbacks to ‘Little House on the Prairie.’ Thankfully, the owners had attached the outhouse to the actual house a few years back, installing a slim standing shower. Electricity came from either solar power or a gas generator hook-up out back, but there was no way you would ever get an internet connection all the way out here. But it had a fireplace! That was pretty cool, right?

You weren’t exactly sure how long you’d be out here. The detective from vice told you to stay off the grid as much as possible, that they’d get in touch with you, not the other way around. The police officer had dropped you off about an hour ago after bumping over an unpaved road tangled by tree roots and overgrown underbrush. You would never have been able to find this place by yourself. But you supposed that that was the whole point.

You’d spent your first few hours there getting the cabin to an actual livable condition. Vice had told you that this place wasn’t used a lot, and you could immediately see it. Every surface was coated in a thick layer of dust. The windows were covered in who knows how many years of grime. Cobwebs littered with tiny insect carcases huddled in every corner and crevice. You were lucky you hadn’t found a racoon nest in the chimney flue.

Finally, as the sun set, your muscles aching from the work, you decided that your temporary home was livable enough. You summoned all your knowledge from watching ‘Man vs Wild’ and lit a fire. You heated up a can of chicken noodle soup on the gas stove. The cabin didn’t have a bed, so you stacked several thick quilts stored in a cupboard, rolling out your sleeping bag on top.

You sat on your makeshift bed, back pressed against the wall, slurping your soup. Outside the window, you watched as the light slowly faded away. Wow, you didn’t realize how dark it could really get out here. You put way too much stock in the light you could get from the moon and stars, apparently. There was no accounting for the noise, though. It sounded like a million different insects were screaming from the woods outside. You thought cricket noises were supposed to be comforting, like listening to the ocean to try and fall asleep. But this just made you itch and wish for another can of bug spray. Man, vice really sent you out here with nothing, didn’t they?

Sitting back and contemplating your possible execution via yakuza boss in the near future, it took you a while before you recognized the change. Every noise outside your four walls had fallen silent. The popping of logs in the fireplace was tantamount to gun fire.

Slowly, you set down your half-finished can of soup, dragging a wooden bat out that you had snagged before the vice police shoved you in the car to bring you here. Staying as low to the floor as possible, you crawled to the front window. You pressed your back against the wall, like you had seen spies do in movies, and slowly lifted one corner of the thick curtains. You tried to crane your head to look out, but it hurt more than you thought it would and your visibility was cut by way more than half.

Why hadn’t vice at least given you a gun or something?

Taking a deep breath, you stood, holding the bat in front of you like a sword. Before you could convince yourself that this was a bad idea (too late) you burst open the front door, ready to swing at whatever you saw first.

Noise exploded back into existence as soon as you stepped into the small clearing around the cabin. Panting heavily and breaking out in a cold sweat from the adrenaline, you whipped your head back and forth to look for intruders. Left? Clear. Right? Clear. Front? Clear. Behind-?! Wait, that was the cabin, you were just there.

You felt all the energy leave you at once. The bat suddenly felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. You slumped forward, bracing your head on the backs of your hands settled on the pommel of the bat.

You heard something from the other side of the cabin. A low groan, the result of footsteps. Gulping hard, you raised the bat again, silently making your way to the corner of the house. You whipped around the corner.

A giant furry shape was slumped in a pile in front of you. It let out a low whine. You could see the powerful muscles under its thick fur coat ripple and stretch as the thing tried to get comfortable. Sensing your presents, it reared its large head, pinning you down with ruby red eyes.

A wolf. There was a wolf in front of you. You had always assumed wolves would sort of look like giant dogs, but this close you could see how different they really were. This thing was huge, first of all. Its head would come up to your shoulder when it stood. It also had long thin legs, built for fast running and careening over obstacles. The wolf snared at you, its lips pulling back as a deep growl emanate from its throat. You could almost swear it was glaring at you.

Its threat was cut short, however, by a pained yip. As it tried to stand, it faltered and fell over, back into a furry heap. You could see a patch of mismatched fur coating its back leg up along its haunch. The fur was matted, dark with something wet.

You dropped the bat, holding your hands in front of you in what you hoped was a non-threatening pose. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” You said softly. “I’m just gonna… I’ll be right back.” You ducked back around the corner, heading into the cabin. You threw open the cabinet doors, rummaging for a first aid kit you could have sworn you saw somewhere while cleaning. You found the small white box, hoping that whatever was inside was as suitable for giant wolves as it was for people.

You headed back out. Going around the cabin, you saw the wolf trying to stand and limp away again. He didn’t make it two steps before collapsing. Instead of a pained noise, this time he just left out a frustrated humph. You giggled despite yourself. The wolf’s head reared back around, locking eyes with you again. It growled at you.

“I don’t think you look as menacing as you think you do right now,” You said. You tried to talk calmly in a low voice. That’s what you were supposed to do with frightened and injured animals, right? Well, you also were supposed to leave them alone and call animal control or something, but you didn’t really have the option of doing that right now. And you didn’t think you could sleep, much less live with yourself, if you knowingly just let this wolf suffer right outside your door.

You took another step closer. The wolf snapped his jaws at you but didn’t move from his heap. “Hey, easy, big guy. I just want to help.” You held up the first aid kit, as if that was supposed to mean anything to a wild animal. The wolf glared at you, but didn’t make any movement as you took another cautious step forward. As you knelt down beside his injured back leg, he huffed again, turning his head away and resting it on his massive paws, resigned to accept you unasked for help. This close up, you could see his fur was an unusual blond. It reminded you of wheat fields just before harvest (not that you had ever seen that, being such a city kid, but pictures and imagination counted for something, right?).

You opened the kit and pulled on a pair of gloves. Parting his fur, you hissed in sympathy at his wound. There was a gash slicing through his entire haunch, more wide than it was deep, but still bleeding profusely. You could see smaller cuts and bite marks, punchers in his flesh, littering the rest of his leg and up his back. Some of these wounds had already half-healed, but had reopened again, oozing and clotted.

You threaded a hand comfortingly through his fur, speaking softly as you dabbed an antiseptic wipe along the largest gash. The wolf winced and barked at you in annoyance at the sting, but after a glare (you didn’t even know wolves could glare with such intensity before this), he resigned himself and plopped his head back down. There were some butterfly sutures that you hoped would stick on with his fur. You pushed them down, pulling the edges so the flesh closed. You tried your best to clean the other injuries, but you didn’t have a lot of butterfly sutures, and bandaids certainly weren’t going to stay down.

As you were contemplating this, a chorus of howls erupted from the woods around you. The blond wolf sprung into action immediately, jumping up and circling himself around you. You probably would have thought that was amazing or cute or something if a sense of panic hadn’t seized you. The wolf was still limping, trying to keep his back leg off the ground. His head jerked from side to side, ears constantly twitching. Whatever was out there, you could only imagine that it was closing in, and it was out for blood.

“Oh, this is going to be a bad idea,” You said to yourself. The wolf cocked his head at you. “But, hey, I’m not making any good choices tonight, I guess. Come on.” You picked up your abandoned bat, standing to guard the wolf from the tree line. You started backing up, genteling nudging the wolf with your hip in the direction of the cabin door. He seemed to get your meaning, limping along, but trying to maintain his sense of canine bravado by making threatening growls and fangs bared.

Backing your way into the cabin, you quickly locked and barred the door. You had no idea if conventional locks would keep out blood-thirsty wolves, but you figured it wouldn’t do much against determined yakuza members either, so maybe you should just cut your losses.

You heard a loud slurping and turned around. The blond wolf had his muzzle buried in your reheated soup, lapping it up and spilling everything that didn’t immediately make it into his mouth.

“Hey!” You chastised. You could have sworn he rolled his eyes at you. Could wolves do that? Like, physically? His long tongue licked his chops when he was done. He took a few stumbling steps then collapsed by the fire.

“Alright,” You said to yourself. “I guess this is happening, huh?” You could have sworn the wolf made a sound of agreement.

~~~

You woke up to the sound of bird song and a mouth full of fur.

Sputtering, you pieced together the events of last night in your head. The wolf had you pinned against the wall of your makeshift bed, his back pressed against your stomach and chest. You had a fleeting thought that he was putting himself between you and any danger that might break in. You had heard stories of mother wolves protecting human babies, maybe this was something like that? Or were you thinking of The Jungle Book? The founding of Rome? Whatever.

Either way, it made you smile a bit, petting his fur. Wow, you had no idea wolf fur was so thick! Your hand just seemed to drop forever through his soft coat. Your action was enough to rouse the wolf from his sleep just a bit. He cast a tired glance over his shoulder at you. You could have sworn you could read his expression. “Really? You’re waking me up for this?”

“Hey there, sunshine,” You said. “I should probably take another look at that leg, huh?”

The wolf huffed, rolling over. You thought for a second he was giving you room to get up, but when you started to move he rolled back over, landing heavily across you and pinning you down. “That’s, uh, that’s a no then, huh?” The wolf just shuffled to a more comfortable position (on top of you) and closed his eyes.

You sighed, reaching up and rubbing the fur between his ears. “This is my life now, huh?”

He blinked open his eyes, staring right into yours. They were a deep red, almost like uncut garnets. You had no idea animals could have eyes like that. Not just that, but something about them looked almost too… human to you. The proportion of iris to whites just sort of off from what you would expect from your average dog. Before you could put your finger on it, the wolf closed his eyes and rested his head again.

His heat radiated through you like a miniature sun. You pet through his fur, deciding to narrate your thoughts out loud. You told him about how you came to be in these woods, in this cabin, your struggles with dealing with your father's gambeling addiction for so many years, the fall festival you had gone to last year, how you wanted to start hiking now that you were trapped out here, this song you couldn’t remember the words to, summarizing the plot from some book you had to read for English class.

After the sun had already started to rise high in the sky, the wolf (you really needed a name for him, huh?) slinked off of you. You let out an exaggerated breath, thumbing your chest a few times. He flicked his tail at you.

You opened up the cooler you brought with you. Take two slices for yourself, you handed the wolf the rest of the sliced turkey you had bought for sandwiches. He ate the entire pack in one massive bite, looking at you expectantly for more. Huffing in mock annoyance, you tossed him the other two slices. He caught them in the air, flicking his tongue to get the juice from his canine maw.

He tested his weight on his back leg. You could tell it still hurt him, but he still tried to walk with his other three legs. He stretched out, arching his back. “Oooh, big stretch!” You said. There was that glare again.

He limped over to the door, scratching it. You opened it for him, assuming he had to do his doggy business or something (wait, was he trained to go outside? That would explain some things). But when you tried to close the door again, he barked at you. He scratched the door frame until you followed him outside. He would walk several feet ahead then sit, looking over at you and barking. You went back inside and tugged on your hiking shoes, spraying yourself down with a healthy dose of bug spray.

The wolf was still pretty unsteady on his feet. He would stumble occasionally, but when you would put out a hand to help him, he would snap back at you. Whatever the case, he at least seemed to know where he was going. Even in his injured state, he could keep a good distance ahead of you.

You heard water rushing as the wolf dropped out of sight. Thinking he might have fallen, you rushed to where you last saw him. The trees broke away, revealing a rippling river with cool pools stretching through the forest. You took in the beautiful scenery, the ice blue water cascading down tiny waterfalls, when sudden movement caught your eye. You focused where you saw it and gasped. A salmon jumped from the water, swimming upstream. That one was joined by another, then two more, until the whole river seemed to burst with fish.

You laughed in shock and amusement at the sight, but were cut off short by something cold and slimy hitting your face. You sputtered against it, swiping it away from you. Looking down, you saw your assailant was flopping on the sandy river bank. A giant salmon, mouth gapping and scales shimmering in the sunlight.

You heard a huff that you could have sworn sounded amused. Looking up, you saw the wolf at the edge of the bank, dipping his paw in the water. He looked deeply into the river, still as a rock, before striking all at once and bringing his paw up. He batted another fish out of the water. You put your hands up, catching it in a slimy, uncertain grip. The fish thrashed around and you ended up dropping him on his friend.

“You know all the best places, huh?” You said. The wolf shook water off of his fur and went back to focusing on the river. “I’m going to run back and get the cooler! We’ll be able to carry a lot more that way!” You weren’t sure why you were telling a wolf this, as if he could understand you, but it felt right somehow.

You carefully followed your footsteps back to the cabin, breaking a twig or making a mark on a tree as you went to make a path. Back at the cabin, you quickly pulled the food you had brought with you out of the cooler, shoving it in the mini-fridge. You didn’t have an ice maker in the cabin, so you hoped the already half-thawed cold packs would work. Almost as an afterthought, you grabbed the first aid kit, tossing it in the cooler. Luging the cooler over your shoulder, you followed your improvised markers back to the river.

You set the bulky cooler down heavily on the bank, looking up with a wide grin for your new companion. Scanning the banks and treeline, your face gradually fell as your search turned fruitless. Your new wolf buddy was nowhere to be seen.

At first, you felt sad that he had just up and left, then scared for his injury. He was still having trouble walking. What if whatever was prowling around your cabin last night came back and tried to take a bite of him?

“Wolf?” You called out, almost immediately feeling like an idiot for doing so. You knew you should have named him. Although, it wasn’t like he was trained to respond to your call. You had to remind yourself that this was a wild animal and not a trained dog from the pound, despite his reluctant friendliness. “Wolf? Where’d you go, big guy? Hello?”

“If you keep yelling like that, a whole pack is going to come and tear you apart.”

You nearly jumped out of your skin at the very human response. Bracing your hands on your knees, you looked down the drop away from the bank to the river. There was a tiny beach there. Leaving against the sandy drop was a boy, head tilted back and face bathed in the sunlight. Despite his relaxed body posture, one leg spread out in front of him, the other bent to his chest, arms loosely crossed, he had an annoyed if not pained expression across his face. His hair was the color of fresh cut wheat, but as spiky as a porcupine. Lolling his head in your direction, he opened his eyes under furrowed brows. You thought it was a trick of the light, but you could swear they were a deep red. ‘Like garnets…’ You thought, memory jumping back to your missing wolf friend.

“Uh, sorry,” You said. “I was just looking for-”

And then your heart stopped as you suddenly remembered why you were out in the middle of the woods. The whole reason you had come here, why the police had dragged you away from your everyday life for your own protection.

You tripped over your own feet flinging yourself backwards. You landed heavy on your butt. Scrambling back, your head whipped from side to side looking for something to defend yourself with. Damn it! You should have grabbed your bat when you got the cooler!

“Hey!” He yelled up at you. “You going to keep spazzing out or give me a hand here?”

“Depends,” You said. “What are you doing out here? We’re in the middle of nowhere.”

“The hell do you think I’m doing? I work out here.” You saw his hand come up and grip the edge of the bank. He pulled himself up, but winced in pain. Bracing his arms against the bank, he said, “I’m a forest ranger, kind of. Tag some of the animals, make sure no one’s starting forest fires, keep poachers away, that sort of thing. I kind of got banged up here, though, can’t put a lot of weight on my ankle.” He rolled his eyes, leaving the statement hanging in the air for your response.

“Oh!” Of course, you thought to yourself, you had no real reason to trust what he was saying. He didn’t look like a ranger, dressed in a black muscle shirt and dark green cargo pants. But you could tell he was having trouble standing. But then, that could be an act too…

“Sure,” You finally decided. “Hang on.” You looked through the brush until you found a fallen tree branch. You lugged it over, dropping half down the bank and keeping it ancored under your foot. You held out your hand to him. He grasped just beyond your wrist, pulling up and using the branch and a foothold to push himself up. Once he was up on the upper bank, he tried to take a step. You could immediately see his ankle give out, crumbling like wet paper. He fell to his knees with an annoyed sound, catching himself on his palms.

“You okay?” You said, retrieving the branch and not so subtly holding it in front of you.

“Yeah, fine. Whatever.” He tried to brush you off. You could see his entire calf was wrapped in bandages. It looked like some wound had reopened and was bleeding through.

“What happened?” You ask, nodding to his leg.

He looked down, growling at the red soaking through the bandages. “I have to get pretty close to some animals for my job. Checking tags or making sure they’re not hurting themselves. I thought I’d tranquilized a bear, but I guess he wasn’t all the way under.”

“A bear?! You fought a bear?”

He waved a hand at you. “I didn’t ‘fight a bear.’ I was just trying to get a blood sample and must have spooked him. He took a swipe at me. I’ll be fine.”

“That sure doesn’t look fine.” You pointed to his bandage.

He clicked his tongue. “Damn it.”

You rung your hands around the branch. “I have a first aid kit. I’m pretty good at it. I could take a look if you want.”

He practically snarled at you, trying to stand up again. “I don’t need some-” As he tried to put weight on his ankle, he let out a choked yelp, cutting into that tough guy persona he obviously was trying very hard to portray. He lost his balance, wheeling his arms. You dropped your branch, lunging forward just as he fell. You caught him under his arms, throwing your balance off. You both fell, you landing on your back. You groaned, rubbing the back of your head. Opening your eyes, you squeaked seeing his face so close to yours, bright red eyes locked on to yours. Your mouth suddenly went dry and your face went hot. He was practically pinning you down.

His face burst into a blush as he threw himself off of you. He crossed his arms stubbornly. Looking away, he said, “Yeah, fine. Maybe I need a new bandage.”

“C-cool! Yeah! Great!” Well, at least you were pretty sure he wasn’t here to kill you. That would have been a pretty good opportunity. Unless he wanted to slay you with embarrassment, which seemed like a possibility.

You silently checked out his ankle, spraying it out with antibacterial and put a fresh bandage on it. At this rate, you were going to run out of medical supplies before the week was over.

“Hey,” You said in an effort to break the tension. You noticed the tips of his ears were still a blushed red. “I don’t suppose you know anything about the wolves around here?”

His eyes snapped back to you, suddenly suspicious. “There haven’t been wild wolves in this area for over a hundred years.”

You blinked. “Wait, no, that can’t be. There was a wolf at my cabin last night. It sounded like he was being attacked by another pack or something.”

He looked at you hard. “There haven’t been wolves here in a long time. If you think you saw one, you didn’t.”

You huffed. “I’m pretty sure I know what I saw, not to mention felt. He spent the night in my cabin.”

“What kind of idiot lets a wolf spend the night in their cabin with them?”

“Ha! So you admit it could have been a wolf!”

“I didn’t say that!”

You smiled, leaning back on your hands and looking out over the river. “It was fine though. He seemed trained or something. A little prickly, but he was hurt so I didn’t mind.” You heard him mutter something that sounded like “not prickly.” You continued, “He disappeared this morning, though. Around here. I’m kinda disappointed. It’s kind of lonely out here. But hey! I guess I have a new friend now!” You good naturally punched his shoulder. He winced and you just now noticed the fading bruise. “Oops. Sorry.”

“Sure you are. And who said we were friends, anyway? You don’t even know my name.”

Putting on your most welcoming smile (and trying not to grimace at his tone), you held out your hand. “(Y/N) (L/N), trapped out in the middle of nowhere for the foreseeable future for reasons I cannot currently disclose. Very nice to meet you.”

He looked from your hand to your face a few times. He looked like he was turning something over in his head. Flexing his hand, he lifted it up and gripped yours strongly. You could feel the heat radiating from it, like he was a living space heater. “Bakugo. And that’s all you’re getting.”

You fake pouted. “We will be friends, mark my words.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “What were you doing out here anyway?”

“I told you, I cannot currently discloses that information.”

He huffed a laugh. “What, are you a spy or something? Lost princess?”

If only, you thought. “Something like that.”

“Hmm. You don’t have a fishing rod.”

“Uh, yeah. I was kind of counting on my wolf friend to help me out. He did this thing where he just sort of whacked them out of the water.” You mimicked the motion in the air.

“For the last time, there aren’t any wolves around here. Just drop it.”

“Fine, fine. There wasn’t a wolf even though there definitely was. And I don’t know what I’ll do, exactly. I suppose I can survive on canned soup, saltines, and beans for however long I’m stuck out here.”

“That’s disgusting.” He leaned back, crossing his arms behind his head and looking up at the clouds. “Alright, here’s what you do. You at least have a knife, right? Good. I’m going to teach you how to make a fish weir.”

For the next hour, Bakugo talked you through cutting reeds and shaping them into a W-shaped trap in the river. According to Bakugo, the V-like entrance made it easy for fish to get in, while the indented center made it hard or impossible to get out. After some (a lot) of trial and error, you successfully trapped a huge salmon.

“I got one!” You yelled in excitement. “I got it!”

“Good for you,” Bakugo said. “Now take your knife and stab it.”

“Yeah, what?”

“Right behind the gills.”

“Uh, right, okay.” For a few blissful seconds there, you forgot you had to kill a fish to be able to eat it. Using another reed you cut for an unsuccessful weir, you pinned the fish to the side. Wincing, you stabbed the fish’s gills, trying to ignore how it flopped around the trap. Spearing it on your knife, you hoisted it out of the water, flicking it onto the bank.

“Oh, gross, gross, gross, gross, gross!” You flapped your hands. Bakugo laughed at your distress. You tried to ignore how much you liked the sound. “Oh, shut up. It’s my first time.”

He smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Your first time, huh? Glad I could walk you through it.”

You felt yourself flush. “Oh my god!” Without thinking too much about it, you speared another fish in the trap, using your knife to fling it. The half alive fish landed smack on his chest, flopping around in a mess of falling scales and fish slime.

He sputtered, slapping it away. He snarled, “Hey!”

You laughed, hands resting on your thighs. “What? Now we both have dinner.”

Catching a few more and storing them in your cooler, Bakugo taught you how to make a box-like campfire. Creating a grill with your reeds, you roasted some of the fish over the fire, picking it off with your fingers. You both sat by the river and watched the sun set.

Not wanting your time together to end, but becoming too aware of the late hour, you said, “I should probably get back to the cabin. Not sure I could find it in the dark.”

Bakugo shrugged. He struggled to stand up, waving you off when you tried to help him. Taking a few separate steps, he gripped a low hanging branch from a tree. With a thunderous crack, he ripped the branch off. Pulling off a few twigs, he held it under his arm as a makeshift crutch.

“Hey,” He said, not looking at you. It sounded like he was deliberating something. “If you ever need help, I’m usually at the fire watchtower. See? You can see the roof from here. It’s about two miles that way.” He pointed over the tree line. You could just make out the top of a brown corrugated roof.

“Sure you don’t want to take any of these back?” You asked, motioning to the cooler of fish.

“Naw. You need all the help you can get.”

“Hey!” As he wandered off, you yelled to him, “Watch out for the wolves!”

“There aren’t any wolves!”

“You’ll believe me eventually!”

~~~

You methodically tapped your fingers against the mug you held, letting the heat of your hot chocolate seep into your fingers. You were sitting in a folding chair just outside the cabin, bat leaning against the chair’s arm. You were snuggled up in a heavy blanket, watching the fireflies dance through the heavy trees, trying to remember consolations.

But really, if you were being honest with yourself, you were waiting for the wolf.

It didn’t matter if Bakugo said he wasn’t real. You knew what you saw. Maybe he had escaped from some conservation area or zoo? And he seemed used to people, so maybe he was trained? But that didn’t explain the howls you heard as you tended to the wolf’s wounds. It definitely sounded like some rival pack was hunting him down.

It broke your heart to think of him all alone and injured out there.

As if called by your thoughts, a round of howling rose from the depths of the forest. You jumped to your feet. The hot chocolate sloshed from your mug, burning your hand. Frantically waving your hand to ease the burn, you didn’t notice the heavy foot falls until it was too late. You turned as the thumping was right behind you.

It felt like you were hit by a train. Your breath left you with a ‘woomp.’ Falling hard, your arms came up to wrap around what had just barrelled into you, catching it like a football. You would like to say that you were more surprised than you actually were when your fingers dug into thick fur and bursts of dog breath panted in your face.

“Hey there, Golden Boy,” You said, rubbing between his ears. You had decided on his name, Golden Boy, while trying to convince Bakugo of his existence. It seemed apt given his brilliant coat. Your wolf friend yipped at you. Scrambling off, he crouched down in an attack position, growling at the trees. “Come on, bud.” You juggled your folding chair, blanket, bat, and (now empty) mug, pushing open the cabin door with your hip. The wolf backed into the cabin, eyes never leaving the tree line, lips curled into a snarl, until you closed and locked the door again.

You took out a bowl from the cabinets. Opening a bottle of water, you filled up the bowl, placing it near the tired wolf. Crawling over on his stomach, he didn’t even lift his head as he started to lap at the water.

“Yikes,” You said. “Rough night, huh?” You ran a hand along his back. He managed a half-hearted glare at you before deciding it wasn’t worth it and going back to his water.

“So, you’re a wolf, right?” He ignored you, which is what you expected. But you always had a habit of talking to animals like they could talk back. “Because I met a guy today, yeah, I’m not the only person stranded out here, can you imagine, and he said there aren’t any wolves in this area. I mean, I guess you could just be a really big dog. You ever seen an Irish wolfhound? Probably taller than me. Or a Caucasian shepherd dog? I hear they used to breed those in Russia to hunt bears.

“I guess it’s kind of nice to have someone else around. Not that you’re not great company.” Could wolves roll their eyes? “Just… It can get kind of scary out here, you know? Well, probably not, you live in the woods and all. No offence and all, but this isn’t really my idea of a vacation.”

You leaned against the wall, sitting cross-legged on your bed pallet. Golden Boy shuffled to you, resting his massive head in your lap while you checked his wound and changed the dressing. It seemed to be healing rapidly, way faster than you would have expected.

“The truth is,” You continued. “I’m actually in hiding. There are some people who, uh, I’m pretty sure they want me dead. Maybe not me specifically. My dad made some bad choices, hey, that can be the title of my autobiography, and now I’m paying for it.”

You felt your throat tighten up as a wave of emotion snuck up and crashed over you. You hiccuped, pressing your lips together as you tried not to cry in front of your canine audience. He looked up at you, wide, deep red eyes. Your eyes burned as tears threatened to spill out.

Without warning, Golden Boy jerked his head up, wiping his long, wet tongue across your cheek, ineffectively wiping away your tears. You sputtered at the dog drool, breaking out into a giggle fit as he kept licking your face.

“Okay, okay, I get it, stop already! I have a big, strong protector here to take care of me, huh?” He buried his head in your lap again. You rubbed his ear between your fingers. “And I’ll take care of you, too. You know that, right? We’re in this together.”

~~~

“Bakugo! I’ve come to pester you!”

The next day, you awoke to find your wolf friend missing. You weren’t exactly sure how he managed to get out of the cabin since all the doors and windows were still securely closed, but you’d seen videos of pets doing weirder things. Maybe you should have named him Houdini. After cleaning up the cabin a little and finding a more stable storage space for the salmon you caught yesterday, a deep loneliness started gnawing at you. Stowing a tin of shortbread cookies under your arm, you set out in the direction of the river to find the watchtower Bakugo had pointed out to you yesterday.

You finally found it about midday, only being scared to death at the possibility of getting hopelessly lost twice. You climbed up the high stairs to the box structure on top. The sides were made up of mesh screens, covered from the inside by thick curtains, you guessed so that he could keep an eye out for possible forest fires.

“Hello? I brought an offering!”

You heard some grumbling and banging around from inside the box. You heard a heavy lock slide open as the door cracked open. Bakugo’s ruby eyes met yours and you felt a pang of worry for your Golden Boy.

“An offering, huh?” Smiling, you held up the tin. “Fine. I guess that’s a good enough reason to bug me.”

You practically skipped inside. Bakugo pulled at the curtains causing them to zip up and spin on their rollers. The room was cluttered, which you mostly expected from going over to your bachelor friend’s houses. What you didn’t expect was exactly how it was cluttered. It wasn’t like clothes had been dropped on the floor and forgotten, a pile of dirty dishes and overflowing trash. The reality was more chaotic, like someone had turned over the place robbing it. Papers about the geography, flora, and fauna of the forest were strewn on every flat surface. The cot bed was stripped bare, looking like it hadn’t been slept in in days. There was a tall stack of books stacked on a table next to a wooden folding chair half pushed under a desk. A cork board was above the desk, red string connecting bits of cut-out newspaper articles, Polaroid photos, sticky notes with chicken-scratch handwriting, and marked-up calandras.

Bakugo half-heartedly picked up a shirt from the ground. “Wasn’t really expecting company.”

You shrugged. “You a big reader?”

You set the cookie tin down, picking up one of the books. Its pages were marked with various colored tabs. Flipping through the pages, you saw blocks of text that had been highlighted. The book fell open to reveal a copy of a wood-cut illustration of a large man with a wolf head. His snout was pointed to the sky, jaw open in mid-howl. In his meaty hands, tipped with razor sharp claws, he cradled a woman in some medieval German peasant dress. Her head was fallen back, eyes rolled back in her head, a blood stain spreading across her neck and chest. In the background, a mass of angry villagers marched forward, armed with the standard torches and pitchforks. A bone white full moon hung overhead.

Bakugo snapped the book closed in your hands. “Didn’t your parents teach you not to snoop through people's stuff?”

“I wasn’t snooping,” You said defensively. “And just so you know, no, they didn’t. My folks weren’t exactly the etiquette type.”

“Clearly.”

“Hey!”

He smirked at you, prying open the cookie tin and munching on a piece of shortbread. You sat down in the folding chair, looking down dubiously when it creaked under you.

“So, how does a guy get a gig hanging out in the middle of the woods, anyway?”

“How do you?”

You pressed your lips, trying not to let Bakugo feel the sudden drop in your mood. You blinded him with a smile. “Maybe I just really like bird-watching.”

“Sure. Bird-watching.”

You swallowed a lump in your throat. Standing, you turned away and looked out the messy windows, taking in the acres upon acres of unspoiled wilderness. “Wow, you can see for forever up here.” Squinting, you saw the dip in trees around your cabin, the red roof just barely visible. “Hey, that’s my place!” You looked over your shoulder at him and winked. “You’re not spying on me, are you?”

He popped in another cookie, wolfing it down in one bite. “You wish.”

You hummed, looking back out over the trees. “Can you..” You trailed off. “Can you see if people come into the woods?”

He came over to stand next to you, hiding the tin in the crook of his arm. “I don’t get records of who comes in or out, if that’s what you mean. That’s for the rangers at the front gates. I see campfires, sometimes. Need to make sure they don’t get out of control.”

“And if someone, or, like, a group, maybe, was trying to sneak in? Like, not going through the front gates so there was no record of them being here?”

He paused mid-bite and looked at you sideways. “You’re hiding.”

You mock-laughed. “What? No, no. Of course I’m not hiding. Why would I be hiding?”

“(Y/N),” He cut you off. He moved his head so you were forced to look directly into his ruby-red eyes.

You crossed your arms and looked away. “I’m not supposed to talk about it.”

He leaned back. “That’s okay. But, hey, we can look out for each other, yeah?” He curled his biceps, flexing his muscles. “Besides, you got a big, strong protector here, don’t ya? You don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Big, strong protector, huh?” You echoed.

He leaned closer, eyes half lidded. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Yeah.”

You suddenly became away of how close you two were standing, how you could smell the remnants of the sweet cookies on his breath, about how soft his hair looked and thinking about what it might be like to run your hand through it, about how his muscles looked when he flexed them.

You blinked hard, jerking yourself out of this impromptu daydream. You felt the tips of your ears burn as your face flushed.

“The wolf came back last night,” You blurted.

His eyebrows furrowed, mouth falling from a sultry smirk to a frustrated frown. “He did, huh?”

“Yup! I named him, even. Golden Boy. Cause his fur is this really pretty yellow, you know? Kind of like your hair, but less shaggy.” Before you could stop yourself, you reached up and messed his bed-head. Good god, it was just as soft as you thought.

He pulled away, scrunching his nose and fixing his hair. “Th-that’s stupid. Why would I look like some dog?”

“So you admit he’s real?”

“I said dog, not wolf. His owner probably just dropped him off in the woods somewhere. It’s sad, but it happens. Sounds like he’s doing alright for himself.”

“I wouldn’t say that exactly.” You leaned on your elbows. “Every night he’s come to my cabin he’s been pretty beat up. Could another animal be targeting him? A bear or another wolf - sorry, abandoned dog?”

Bakugo looked away, scratching the back of his neck. “I mean, maybe. There’s a lot of dangerous creatures out in those woods.” His voice dropped low. “A lot of dangerous creatures.”

You looked over at the stack of books, the one with the werewolf illustration placed haphazardly on the top. “Like werewolves?” You joked.

He didn’t answer you.

~~~

“Buckle up, Golden Boy, we are going on a field trip.”

It was night again a few days later. You’d spent almost two weeks in the woods by this point. Your days were mostly spent hanging out with Bakugo in the fire watch tower or hiking through the forest with him. He’d given you a blank mole-skin notebook. You’d started sketching and labeling plants and animals you saw on your hikes with him. He’d ramble off information he’d learned from preparing for this job. While your drawing skills needed some improvement, you liked the calm, methodical motions and scratch of pen on paper, taking note of the tiny details that made one plant safe to eat and different from the poisonous one.

Your nights were spent with Golden Boy. His wound had long since cleared up, surprisingly fast, but don’t look a gift horse in the mouth and all. You weren’t exactly sure why he kept coming to you at night. He obviously didn’t need any help finding food. Maybe he felt safer with you behind protective walls? A few times, you thought you saw reflective eyes in the depths of the trees, watching as you let Golden Boy inside the cabin as the moon rose. Or maybe he really did used to be someone’s pet and just felt lonely abandoned out here. He’d always be gone by the time you woke up, no matter how many times you’d fallen asleep leaning against him or curled under your arm.

You’d also kept arguing his existence to your hot-headed friend. Tonight, you finally decided to prove yourself right. You were going to bring your proof right to his front door.

“Come on,” You said, clapping your hands at the wolf lounging by the fire. “You’re going to help me rub some sweet ‘I told you so’ in a cute guy’s face.” He raised his head at you, giving you a look you had come to read from his doggy face. “What? He is. Or maybe I’ve just been stranded in the woods for too long.” You shrugged. Golden Boy let out his ‘you’re ridiculous’ puff of air noise and flopped over so the fire could warm his belly. You took two quick steps forward and rubbed your hand over his belly, it sinking into the thick fur. He let out a surprised yip and curled up, nipping at your hand before licking it and resigning himself to your attention.

You laughed, heading back to the door. “Come on! I haven’t gone hiking at night before. Think of all the cool nocturnal animals I can record in my journal. And I need my bodyguard, right? It’ll be fun-“

You cut yourself off. You opened the door, freezing as you came face-to-face with a fist, poised to knock. Looking past the fist, your throat went dry, heart dropping into your stomach, head going fuzzy. A man stood there in an expensive looking suit. He looked a little surprised, then flashed a wide used-car-salesman smile. One of his teeth was golden. You could see scars criss-crossing his knuckles and up one of his cheeks. His hair was practically a helmet with all the pomade in it.

“Well, hello there!” He said, chipper. That somehow made it worse. “I don’t suppose you’re (Y/N) (L/N), are you?”

The door blurred as you slammed it shut. Just before it closed, the man stopped it with his hands, which now seemed way too large and strong. You tried pushing it closed, but your muscles, even flooded with the adrenaline shooting through your veins, were no match for his.

You stumbled backward as he threw the door open. You saw several more equally if not more menacing men behind him. One was rolling up his sleeves, one checking the knuckle-dusters shining on his hands, one methodically fiddling with the safety on a gun.

You backed away, stopping when the back of your calves nudged into Golden Boy, who was now standing, a low growl emanating from his throat.

“Hey there, pup,” The smiling man said. He leaned down, rubbing his fingers together to encourage Golden Boy to come forward. Your wolf just snapped his fangs. “Aw, well. You hate hurting animals, but sometimes it’s just a hazard of the job.” He drew out a long hunting knife from a sheath shoved in his belt loop. It glistened in the fire light.

You were going to throw up.

“I don’t know anything,” You said, hating the waver in your voice. How could you have become so comfortable, so careless? Where the hell was your bat? “I don’t know where my dad is, I don’t know where your money is. I don’t know anything, I promise.” Tears were blurring your vision, stinging the back of your eyes.

“I’m sure you don’t, sweetheart,” He said. The other men crowded in through the door. The cabin suddenly felt ten times smaller. “But, you know, loose ends.”

Yellow blurred in your vision. Golden Boy flashed in front of you, powerful jaws clamping down on the man’s knife hand. He yowled in pain and shock, the knife clattering to the floor. The other men were stunned for a moment before lunging forward. One hit Golden Boy hard on the back of his head, another grabbing his back legs and yanking hard. Golden Boy kept his death-grip, red oozing from his mouth.

You scrambled backward, head whipping around to look for your bat. It now felt woefully useless. There, cast off in a corner. You’d been using it to dry dish towels.

It felt like 100 pounds in your hands.

You heard an unsettling thump followed by a yelp. Whipping around, you saw the man had managed to dislodge Golden Boy, throwing him against the wall. You cried a broken noise. You felt a hand grab the scruff of your neck. You jammed the bat behind you, connecting with the soft bulge of the man’s stomach. He “oof”ed and his grip loosened. You flung yourself forward, landing hard on your knees, and scrambled up. The door was wide open, the men temporarily distracted. You didn’t think twice.

You shot up, sliding like a baseball player going to home plate in front of Golden Boy. You held your bat in front of you like Excalibur itself.

“Don’t you fucking touch my dog!” You’d never said anything with such venom in your voice, but you still didn’t feel like it was enough to appropriately express your rage. Golden Boy shook his head, getting back to his feet. He stood by your side, head lowered between his shoulders, baring his teeth stained with blood.

The smiling man, who was now scowling in disgust, wrapped his bleeding hand with a way too expensive handkerchief. “God, typical. I hate dogs. Let’s hurry up and finish this.”

The one with the gun raised it, pointing it right between your eyes. You stood fast, gripping the bat so hard your hands were turning white.

You wanted to see Bakugo. It hit you like lightening that that was who was coming to your mind. You wanted to say something to him, an explanation of why you wouldn’t wake him up tomorrow morning. You wanted to make him promise he would take care of Golden Boy, after making him admit that you were right about the wolves. You wanted to hug him, to go on a walk someplace other than the woods, you wanted to cook a real meal in a real kitchen with him, you wanted to wake up in the morning with him at your side, Golden Boy at your feet.

You wanted so many things you knew you wouldn’t be getting. So you had to focus on what you could get. You wanted Golden Boy to get out of here, to be safe. And by hell or high water, you were going to do that.

You swung the bat back, aiming for the gunman’s wrist. You would knock the gun out of his hand, grab Golden Boy, kick him if you had to, get him out the door to get a head start. You’d probably get shot in the back doing it, but maybe the loud noise would startle him into running away. As long as he was safe, what else mattered?

One second you were staring down the barrel of a loaded gun, making peace with yourself. The next, the gun was gone, and so was the man. Blinking, you looked around to see where he had disappeared to. The other men, equally baffled, didn’t have time to react as they were tackled to the ground along with their firearm friend.

Golden Boy was in front of you, pushing you back by leaning his weight against your legs. You watched as your tiny cabin filled with giant wolves, gray, red, black, brown, all with flashing fangs and claws. One man with a knife reared up, pulling his arm back to throw the knife at you. Materializing out of thin air, a new man, one you hadn’t seen before, appeared behind him, catching the first in a headlock and pulling him down until he went limp in a choked-out sleep.

The new man snarled, whipping his head around to stare right into your soul. And he was naked. How did you not notice that? The man looked like he threw full grown trees around for fun, and cut them down for work. Every inch of skin, and there was a lot of skin, had some scar tissue or mark indicating a life of hard-scraps.

His eyes snapped down to Golden Boy, still setting himself firmly between you and the raucous crowd. The man jerked his head to the open door. “Wait outside,” He said, voice unbelievably gruff and low. “We’ll take care of this.”

“Okay?” You said, voice loose. You felt like you were going to faint. You grounded yourself with a tug on your sleeve. Looking down, you saw Golden Boy, his teeth gently closed around your sleeve. He somehow managed to avoid looking at you, pulling you on unsteady feet out in the cool night air. He kicked the door shut with his hide leg as soon as you were out.

All of your energy left you at once. You slumped against a tree, forehead leaning on your knees and blood rushing back into your hands as you dropped your bat. You sat there, still save for the involuntary tremors that racked your body, for who knows how long.

You heard a quiet whimper. Peeking your eyes through your fingers, you saw Golden Boy. He was pacing, eyes downcast and tail tucked between his legs. He was limping a little, his old wound bothered in no small part due to being bodily thrown against the wall.

“Hey,” You said softly. He jerked to a stop and looked up at you, bringing his eyes back down in a guilty expression. “It’s okay. Come here.” You held your hands out, palms up and fingers splayed. He trotted over to you, resting his enormous head in your hands and laying down, his chest pressing on your legs. You buried your face in the thick fur on the back of his neck. “It’s okay. We’re okay.”

When the cabin door creaked open, panic seized your adrenaline abandoned muscles. Your hand shot to the bat, its strange weight now frighteningly familiar. Golden Boy barely stirred in your lap, only lazily opening his eyes and shifting closer to you as if hiding from some sort of punishment.

The burly man stepped out first, still naked, you (unfortunately) noticed. He had two yakuza members with him, one slung over each shoulder, limp and unmoving. Next came three huge wolves, one of them walking backward while pulling along another gang member by the cuff of his pants. A woman came out with him, also naked, with the longest hair you had ever seen, similarly scuffed and scraped as the first man. She was followed by two more wolves. The strange group dumped the bodies of your attackers in a haphazard pile near the tree line. Were they dead? You couldn’t tell. God, which option was better?

The man stretched, thick cords of muscle rippling under his skin. He sighed, like a tired parent, and turned to you. You cut your gaze away quickly, making sure to keep your eyes above a certain level.

“Are you badly hurt?” His voice was the same low rumble of an earthquake.

“Um, no. I-I think we’re okay. Thank you.”

He hummed, rolling his shoulders. “No thanks necessary. We stand for our own, no matter the pack.”

“I’m sorry, pack?” You asked, voice squeaking. Your brain was working overtime to process everything.

“Hmph.” The man looked disappointed but not surprised. He nudged Golden Boy with his foot. The wolf whined again, turning his head away. “You still can’t shift on command? How are you meant to lead your pack when you can’t do the most basic things?” Golden Boy whined and grumbled.

“I-what? What does any of this have to do with my dog?” You wrapped your arms protectively around him.

The man quirked an eyebrow. “A wolf without a pack is a dangerous thing. A lone creature who can’t even control his own body needs to be culled. Now that he has found a pack, he has a greater responsibility. He’s part of a whole, not only himself.”

“Hang on-” You tried to stand up only for Golden Boy to shove his weight down on you harder. “Were you the ones hurting Golden Boy? What’s the matter with you? Why would you hurt an animal? And, sorry, but why are you naked? I tried not to say anything but it’s kind of bothering me a lot.”

The man stared you down, looking back to your wolf. “You didn’t tell her anything?” Golden Boy whined. The man sighed. “This will be more difficult than I thought. Our pack must move. We’ve completed our duty.We’ll deal with this… refuse.” He looked at the unconscious yakuza. He nudged Golden Boy again. “Take care of this one. He has a lot to learn.”

The man turned, a yell building in your throat. In front of your eyes, he shifted, skin sprouting silver gray hair. You heard the pop of bones as the man seemed to fall over, but you quickly realized his entire body structure had changed. Where a person had once stood, a wolf walked. The woman from before was also gone, now just the group of wolves. The gray wolf looked back at you, nodding once, before raising up a howl with the rest of his pack.

When you finally managed to feel your heartbeat slow to a non-life-threatening level, you looked down. “Alright, we have a lot to talk about, because apparently you can do that?” Golden Boy turned away from you. “Yeah, alright, nap first. Nap sounds good.”

You passed out.

~~~

You woke up with a headache knocking at your temples. Your mouth felt thick with cotton. You felt warm, gradually taking note of the blanket that had been carefully draped over you. Blearily opening your eyes, you watched dust motes float through shafts of light that filtered through the curtains on your cabin windows. You must have forgotten to dose the fire before you went to bed. It was still crackling in the fireplace.

“Golden Boy?” You said, voice craggy. Why were you still wearing your day clothes? “Yout there, bud?”

A knuckle rapped gently on your forehead. “Exactly how hard did you hit your head?”

You shot up, immediately regretting it as pain flared up your spine to bloom in your skull. “Whoa, hey, take it easy.” A pair of hands steadied your shoulders, helping you sit up.

You blinked hard, looking up into now familiar red eyes. “Bakugo?”

He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “You can call me Katsuki now, you know. I think we’re close enough, after everything.”

“Everything-? Oh. Oh! Oh my god!” You tried to jump up, knees giving out underneath you. Your limbs felt like they were encased in lead.

“I told you to take it easy, dumbass,” Bakugo, Katsuki, said. He caught you before you fell, helping you sit back down. He stood up, going to the stove and sliding a pancake on top of a stack, still steaming. Pulling half onto a separate plate, he came back, handing one to you.

Numbly, you took it, tearing a piece off and shoving it in your mouth. “You have pecans in here.”

“We didn’t have any syrup, so I thought this would be a good substitute. Having pancakes on their own is kind of boring.”

“Sure. Yeah. So.” You let it hang there, watching him avoid your eyes and much on pancakes.

He swallowed. “So.” He ate half of another one before continuing. “I’m a werewolf.”

You blinked. “Okay.”

He scowled. ‘There it is,’ You thought. “‘Okay’? That’s all you have to say?”

You shrugged. “I mean, what else am I supposed to say? I’m pretty sure a group of werewolves saved my life last night. I literally saw a guy turn into a wolf, so that checks out. I might still be in shock a little bit, to be honest. So, uh, werewolf, huh?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes and shoving another pancake in his mouth. You cracked a smile and joked, “Well, you sure eat like a dog.” He punched your shoulder. You both laughed anyway.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” He said eventually. “I don’t think anyone does. I got bit by a rogue wolf. Turned pretty soon after. I’m not going to lie, I did some pretty bad stuff. I was freaked out, half out of my mind, those wolf instincts kicking in. It’s not an excuse, but… I got a job out here, thought I could isolate myself, research to see if I could find a cure or something. The pack found me almost immediately. I mean, I practically waltzed right in to their territory, so I can’t blame them. That rule they have, it’s true. A lone werewolf, someone without a pack, they’re dangerous. Unpredictable. They tried to… put me down. I usually managed to get away, but one night I made a stupid mistake. I should have died.” He looked up at you. “And then I ran in to you.”

“And then you ran in to me.” You reached out, petting your hand through his hair. It was still soft, whether as a golden wolf or a human. “So, I’m your pack now? That’s what that guy said, the other werewolf. What does that mean, exactly?”

He blushed, pulling apart his remaining pancakes. “A pack is like a family. They look out for each other, stand with each other. I didn’t tell them we were a pack or anything. I guess they just sort of inferred. Since, like, we’ve been spending a lot of time together, no matter what form.”

You grinned. “They think you’re my boyfriend?” He punched you again, with less malice this time. “Hey, I didn’t say I minded.”

“It’s a lot,” Katsuki continued quickly, the words all rushing out as if he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to say it all. “I still don’t know a lot about all this. I always shift at night. I’m trying to get better at controlling it, but it’s hard. And it’s hard to go through all the history and stuff and pull out fact from fiction. I feel like I can’t control anything and I’m so fucking useless and I-“

You pressed your lips against his. Finally. His lips were chapped, and your teeth clacked together at first, but the warmth that spread through your chest made it all worth it. A plate clattered against the floor as he shifted closer to you. His hand came up to cradle the back of your head, bringing you closer. Your fingers clenched the fabric of his shirt, pulling.

He pulled back, your breath mixing together.

“I think I like the woods, now,” You said, softly. “It’s nice out here. Good company.” He chuckled, lowley. “And I like you. A lot. And I love dogs.”

He laughed loudly, once, before pulling you back in for another kiss.

#wafflefriesfic #fanfic #bnha #katsuki x reader #mha x reader #bakugo katsuki #bakugo katsuki x reader #my hero academia x reader #werewolf au

75 notes · View notes

transit-fag · 8 months ago

Text

#polls

73 notes · View notes

kimmie2me · 7 days ago

Text

# 01. New Beginnings

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✰⋆⁺⋆˙⠀⠀⠀⠀taglist ... chapters ... masterlist

.....

The buzz of the precinct was a steady hum, a living organism that shifted and grew louder with each burst of activity. Officers hustled past in crisp uniforms, phones rang with persistent urgency, and the air was laced with the faint, acrid smell of burnt coffee that had been sitting in the pot for far too long. You stood in the middle of it all, a rigid statue amidst the chaos, feeling the weight of the day settle in your chest like a stone. The knot of tension between your shoulders tightened with every sideways glance from your colleagues, their whispered conversations just loud enough to remind you that today, you were the center of attention—for all the wrong reasons.

Not long ago, this place felt different. Just weeks ago, you were the fresh-faced rookie who bounced into the station with Officer Kaminari Denki at your side, your shared laughter echoing down the halls like a melody too carefree for the sterile walls of a police department. Kaminari had a way of making even the longest shifts bearable, with his jokes that teetered dangerously on the edge of bad taste and his habit of turning everything into a game. You’d spent countless hours patrolling the streets together, the two of you in sync as you navigated the tangled mess of Musutafu’s bustling districts. It wasn’t glamorous work—breaking up bar fights, issuing citations to street racers who sped down city blocks like they were in Fast & Furious—but it was yours, and you owned every second of it with the reckless energy only a rookie could have.

But things change. Oh, do they change. What started as a routine day had spiraled into the kind of catastrophe that earned headlines and made chiefs reach for antacids. You and Kaminari were on patrol near the West Quarter, an area known for its perpetual state of barely-contained chaos. It had been uneventful enough, the kind of shift that made you wonder if maybe, just maybe, fate would let you off easy for once. But then came the call: a potential lead on a wanted criminal, one whose record read like the script of an action-thriller film, all high-stakes heists and narrow escapes.

Kaminari’s eyes had gleamed with a spark of adventure, the look of someone who lived for the thrill. You matched it, your own pulse quickening with a mixture of nerves and excitement. This was it—a chance to prove you weren’t just the department’s newest pair of boots on the ground. But what you hadn’t counted on was how easily anticipation could slip into arrogance.

The details from that day were a patchwork quilt of half-formed memories, stitched together with regret. The flash of silver as the suspect’s car screeched around the corner burned bright in your mind, a ghostly echo of metal and adrenaline that haunted your thoughts. It had been a chase you thought you were prepared for—a chance to prove yourself in the field, to show everyone you weren’t just another rookie stumbling through the ranks. The road ahead blurred into a tapestry of city chaos: blaring horns, the red glare of brake lights, and the murmur of bystanders caught between rubbernecking and fleeing.

“L/N, we’re losing him!” Kaminari’s voice crackled through the radio, panic simmering beneath the urgency. His fingers gripped the steering wheel so tightly you could see the strain in his knuckles, pale against the dark vinyl. He glanced at you, golden eyes wide with the kind of nervous energy you’d come to recognize as both infectious and reckless.

“I’ve got this,” you’d snapped, more to yourself than to him, your heart pounding a war drum rhythm in your chest. The street was tight with the mid-morning rush; cars inched along bumper to bumper, creating a narrow, suffocating maze. But your eyes locked on the gap forming between a lumbering delivery truck and a black SUV. It was risky, sure—your mind whispered don’t—but the scent of opportunity tasted too sweet to ignore.

Before Kaminari could protest, you jerked the wheel to the right, forcing your way into the lane. Tires screamed, rubber burned, and a wave of curses surged up from drivers as you narrowly dodged mirrors and hoods. You swore you could feel Kaminari’s gaze slicing through you, disbelief painted across his face as he yelled, “L/N, what the hell are you—”

The words died in the air as the chain reaction began. The delivery truck’s driver, caught off guard by your maneuver, slammed the brakes, the cab lurching forward and back like an angry beast. Behind him, the screech of brakes was a symphony of panic, a cacophony that would play in your mind on a loop for days. You saw it unfold in slow motion—the delivery truck veering left, clipping a sedan that skidded across two lanes before colliding headfirst into an oncoming car. The domino effect fanned out from there: one crash begetting another, the crunch of metal on metal, shouts turning to screams. The suspect’s car disappeared into the chaos, a silver blur swallowed by the pandemonium.

You froze. For a heartbeat, your entire world contracted into a pinpoint, a silence so complete that even Kaminari’s frantic voice sounded distant, as though you were underwater. The air was electric with the scent of burnt rubber and gasoline, the morning light turning the shattered glass into tiny prisms scattered across the asphalt. The initial shock dulled, replaced by a crushing wave of realization that gripped your lungs and refused to let go.

“L/N!” Kaminari’s voice shattered through the noise, dragging you back to the moment. He had abandoned the car, slamming the door shut with enough force to rattle the frame. You followed, your legs heavy as lead, your breath a stuttering mess. Around you, people shouted and ran, their faces blurring into one incomprehensible mass of fear and confusion.

“What were you thinking!?” Kaminari grabbed your arm, eyes wild with anger and fear that sent a bolt of guilt straight through your chest. He wasn’t Kaminari "your friend" now; he was Officer Kaminari, forced into damage control because you’d gone rogue. You opened your mouth to answer, but nothing came. What could you say? The weight of your decision pressed down like an iron hand on your back, making you feel as though the ground itself might crack open and swallow you whole.

“I—I thought…” Your voice trailed off, lost in the din of sirens that were now piercing the air, flashing lights painting streaks of red and blue across the carnage. The scene you’d created was one out of a nightmare: cars tangled like twisted vines, smoke curling up from crumpled hoods, a woman leaning against her steering wheel, dazed and bleeding from her forehead. The suspect was long gone, his escape cemented by the very maneuver you’d convinced yourself would make you a hero.

Kaminari’s expression softened just enough to let exhaustion seep in. “You thought what, L/N?” he whispered, as if the fight had been drained out of him, replaced with the hollow ache of disappointment. “You thought this was worth it?”

Before you could respond, Chief Toshinori Yagi arrived, flanked by other officers. His face was a masterclass in controlled fury, a storm masked by stoic calm. He didn’t need to say anything—his eyes, lined with the weight of years spent leading rookies like you, spoke volumes. He took in the scene, the wreckage, and the panic, and when his gaze finally met yours, it was like staring into the eye of a hurricane.

“Get those people medical attention,” he ordered, voice steady but clipped, before turning to you and Kaminari. His brow furrowed, the hard line of his jaw tightening. “Inside. Now.”

The aftermath was a blur of reprimands and reports, a haze of sterile office lighting and your own shaking hands as you scrawled down every excruciating detail of your failure. Every line, every word was another twist of the knife, another reminder that this was all you. Your reckless choice. Your mistake.

....

And as you sat across from Chief Yagi, whose patience and grace seemed boundless even now, he sighed and leaned back in his chair. The lines on his face seemed deeper, the gray at his temples somehow more pronounced.

“You’re a good officer, L/N,” he said finally, the weight of disappointment turning his voice rough. “But being good isn’t enough when lives are at stake. Mistakes like this cost more than reputations—they cost trust. The question is, how do you plan to earn that back?”

There was no easy answer, no way to smooth over the raw edges of the guilt carving its way through you. You lifted your head, throat tight but voice steady. “I’ll prove it, sir.”

And in the silence that followed, the echo of your promise resonated with a determination tempered by regret. The kind that comes only when you know there’s no one to blame but yourself.

“You’re better than this,” he had said, voice low but unwavering. It was those four words, more than anything else, that threatened to undo you. Because deep down, you knew he was right. You’d spent the rest of that week in a haze of paperwork, back-to-back debriefings, and whispers that followed you like a shadow. Even Kaminari’s reassurances did little to break through the barrier of guilt that fenced you in.

“Officer L/N,” Yagi began, leaning forward with the practiced authority of someone who’d delivered both commendations and condemnations in equal measure. His fingers tapped lightly on the desk, a slow, rhythmic beat that matched the thrumming of your pulse. “The events of last week were…” He paused, searching for the word. “Unfortunate. But I believe in second chances.”

You blinked, not quite trusting your ears. “Sir?”

He sighed, the weight of leadership momentarily softening the hard lines of his face. “I know the kind of officer you are. This job isn’t just a career to you—it’s a calling. That mistake, as costly as it was, doesn’t erase your potential.” He let the words hang in the air, heavy with implication. “But redemption isn’t handed out on a silver platter. It’s earned.”

A flicker of hope sparked in your chest, quickly tempered by the reality of what was coming next. The chief’s gaze sharpened, a glint of steely resolve slicing through the air.

“I’m reassigning you,” he continued, the finality in his voice sending a jolt of anticipation—and dread—down your spine. That sounded better than handing over your badge. “You’ll be working under Detective Bakugou.” ...Or not.

The room fell into an eerie silence, the kind that stretches on so long it makes you doubt you’ve heard correctly. Your brain scrambled to make sense of it, latching onto the name like it was a live wire. Detective Katsuki Bakugou. The most volatile, unyielding, and infamously difficult officer in the entire precinct. A man who’d sent even seasoned detectives into early retirement with nothing more than his sharp tongue and a glare that could strip paint from walls. This was who Yagi thought you should work with?

“Sir,” you started, carefully masking the quiver in your voice with a layer of forced composure. “I’m not sure that’s… necessary.” You glanced at the brass nameplate on the chief’s desk, as though it might offer some divine wisdom. “Perhaps Officer Kirishima or—”

“No.” Yagi’s tone cut through your protest like a blade. “This isn’t a punishment, Officer L/N. It’s a proving ground. If you want to keep your badge, you’ll show me—and yourself—that you can handle this.” His expression softened, but the resolve remained. “Detective Bakugou is demanding, yes. But he’s one of our best. If you can hold your own with him, then you’ll prove that you deserve to wear that uniform.”

Your mouth opened, words failing as the full weight of what he was asking settled over you like a heavy cloak. The silence that followed was answer enough. Chief Yagi’s eyes met yours, the smallest hint of encouragement in their depths. It was that unspoken trust that twisted in your chest, somewhere between hope and resignation.

“Understood, Chief,” you said finally, the words tasting foreign on your tongue. The choice was clear, even if it wasn’t easy: face Bakugou Katsuki and whatever trials came with him, or hand in your badge and let the dream you’d clung to slip through your fingers.

The corners of Yagi’s mouth twitched, not quite a smile but close enough to suggest approval. “Good,” he said. “Report to him at 0900 tomorrow." You nod and get And, Officer?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Don’t let him scare you off. Show him what you’re made of.”

Oh. If only it was that easy..

As you left the office, the noise of the precinct crashed over you, louder and more chaotic than before. And somewhere in the back of your mind, beneath the nerves and uncertainty, a spark of determination lit up, defiant and unyielding.

....

The next morning, you pushed open the station doors, the familiar jingle of the bell above ringing out like the start of a death march. The precinct was as loud and bustling as ever, but today, the noise had an edge to it—a buzz of anticipation and gossip that seemed to latch onto you the second you stepped inside. A few officers glanced up from their desks, whispers trailing behind you like cigarette smoke, seeping into your ears despite your attempts to ignore them. You clenched your jaw, shoulders squaring with a false bravado that you didn’t quite feel. The corridor stretched ahead, a gauntlet to run before facing whatever fate awaited you.

As you approached, you heard raised voices filtering through the office door—Chief Yagi’s calm tone clashing with Bakugou’s explosive indignation.

“Y’can’t be serious, Yagi! I’m not babysittin’ some rookie!” Bakugou’s frustration echoed, his voice sharp enough to cut through the chatter of the precinct. "Especially not one who’s a fuckin’ hazard!”

“Bakugou, you need a partner,” Yagi replied, his authority clear. “You’ve had too many clashes with your past partners, and I think she’d be perfect for you. She’s got potential and could learn from the best. It’s a win-win!”

“Yeah, right! A win for who? Not me! I don’t need some extra newbie screwing things up for me!” Bakugou spat, clearly unimpressed.

“Trust me on this,” Yagi insisted. “You’re going to be a great team. Just give it a chance.”

The door swung open as you stepped into the scene, and you saw them: Chief Yagi stood with arms crossed, his sharp gaze meeting yours with a nod of acknowledgment. Beside him, Bakugou looked like a live grenade with the pin half-pulled. He stood with his weight on one leg, tapping a foot so aggressively you were surprised the floor hadn’t cracked. His eyes blazed with an intensity that could sear skin, and the muscles in his jaw clenched hard enough to splinter bone.

Great. Just great.

The second Bakugou’s crimson glare zeroed in on you, it felt like the world narrowed to that singular look, full of disdain and barely leashed rage. If a stare could detonate, you’d be nothing but cinders.

“Y’late, newbie,” Bakugou snarled, venom dripping from his words.

You raise an eyebrow as you check your watch, frowning. “What? But... it’s 8:58—”

“Did I fuckin’ stutter?” Bakugou cut in, stepping forward with an intensity that made even seasoned officers flinch. “Two minutes might as well be ten in my book. Y’think suspects wait ’round for ya t’ decide you’re ready t’ do your damn job?”

“Detective,” Yagi warned, his voice smooth but firm, wrapping authority around Bakugou’s outburst. It was enough to make the blond pause, if only for a breath, before he rolled his eyes and huffed.

“Whatever,” Bakugou spat, the word like a hot brand. He turned back to you, eyes narrowing to slits. “Listen up, rookie. I don’t give a rat’s ass if you’re the Chief’s charity case or if he thinks you’ve got potential. You screw up on my watch, and I’ll make sure ya wish you’d handed in your badge yesterday.”

The threat hung in the air like gunpowder. You swallowed hard, keeping your chin up even as the knot of anxiety in your gut twisted tighter. “Understood, Detective.” Your tone was forced, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

“Good,” he said, voice dropping to a growl. “Now move your ass. We’re already behind schedule thanks t’ you.”

With a nod from Chief Yagi that could almost pass as sympathy, you fell into step behind Bakugou, your heart a thrum of nerves and defiance. The day hadn’t even started, and already, you knew that facing Bakugou was going to be the kind of trial that either made or broke you.

But if there was one thing you were sure of, it was that you didn’t come this far to break. Not now, and definitely not because of some bomb-tempered detective who thought he could scare you into quitting.

Bakugou didn’t glance back as he stalked toward the exit, barking over his shoulder, “Keep up, rookie, or I’ll drag your sorry ass out there myself.”

Yeah, this was going to be hell.

21 notes · View notes