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ghouldtime · 6 days

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Ghost'ed

Been thinking about literal Ghost! Ghost. Maybe it's playing too many ghost hunting games or watching too many shows but I cannot stop thinking about it. You also cannot convince me this man wouldn't be a restless spirit. His entire life is troubled and I don't see him going down in a peaceful way or leaving until he feels the job is done - and likely ending up trapped as a result

I wrote this at work so sorry in advance for any typos or slip ups!

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Ghost hunting wasn’t exactly what most people would list in "Top ten relaxing hobbies" - but it's not like you were most people. You were simply you. The same you who thought spending your time speculating about spooky specters was one of the best ways to pass by those few stretches of free time that could be all too fleeting in the hellscape known as adulthood.

The stares that followed you when you announced paranormal investigation as a hobby was something you knew all too well. After all, telling someone you’re a ghost hunter only stood as a slightly more socially acceptable version of telling them you believed in bigfoot (you did, but that’s beside the point). The dozens of cheesy TV shows certainly popularized it but they did little to help with the perception of it.

When the face of popular ghost hunting media was full of grown men who screamed like a squirrel high on helium at every little thump of a house settling, it did little to help what people automatically thought of when they heard of your unique hobby. Plenty still turned their noses up, scoffed slightly as they rolled their eyes and sneered, “Aren’t you too old to be doing that?”

Or worse. They gave a tight-lipped smile, nodded, and crinkled their eyes as they said, "Oh, interesting." While the tension in their body told of holding back laughter or wanting to bolt right on out of there, far far away from you.

Quite frankly, you didn't care what they said anymore as it was your life to live, not theirs. You’d seen enough to know without a fraction of a doubt that there was more beyond the veil of life itself, hiding just out of sight. The hundreds of hours you spent wandering dark hallways and dilapidated ruins with nothing but your flashlight and ghost box proved otherwise. At least it proved it to you.

Proving it to others was a horse of another color. Skeptics who spit their criticism loud enough to deafen even the most positive prevalent of voices in the community were a dime a dozen. Unfortunately, their existence was as certain as the sky is blue. Skepticism was apart of human nature, after all. They would always exist as long as the day and night kept up their eternal dance.

Convincing them was a fruitless effort. You'd sooner be able to convince hippos to fly than you'd convince them of the truth you knew. Trying to get everyone to agree, to acknowledge the paranormal, was hopeless and something you certainly weren't going to waste your life on no matter what they called your or what they said.

As far as you were concerned, being paid to sit in the dark alone and find evidence of life beyond the grimy waters of death itself was a pretty sweet gig. The naysayers could seethe in their own jealousy all they wanted because at the end of the day, you’re getting paid to do what you love. That they never could take away from you.

They'd never be able to have the same thrill that you did as you took on another case, ready to see even more of what the phantasmal realm had to offer.

Anticipation, nervousness, and excitement rolled together in a palpable energy you hid beneath a calmer exterior every time you took a job. There always would be that wonder there, the question of what exactly you might find dangling just out of reach, the hope that maybe, just maybe you might see even more than you already have. Another chance to investigate meant yet another night spent lurking in the shadows, tirelessly trying to find more evidence of the great world beyond the grave and its inhabitants. Tonight certainly would be no different.

An older couple quite reluctantly booked an appointment for a standard investigation after mysterious things that they really could not explain, no matter how they went about it, happened time and time again. They'd tried to ignore it, they said, but it only got worse.

Footsteps that echoed through the house at first in a gentle patter had become confident strides. When they went to look, no one was there. Doors that used to slowly creak open, as if blown by the wind, instead started to rattle the frame with force as they opened or slammed in the middle of the night. The husband looked particularly miffed when he groused about the TV going on at odd hours of the night, while his wife seemed more concerned about the possibility of someone having broken in and the fact that it kept doubling in intensity as time went on. The list went on and on about their complaints ranging from things being moved around to always finding a light turned on in a room in the middle of the night. There most certainly was something going on if all of what they were saying was true.

The glaring parade of red flags that easily would send others running for the hills lured you in. Like a dog with a scent, you weren't going to drop the trail, oh no. You were there to sink your teeth and claws in and not let go. Come hell, heaven, or high water - nothing would stopping you.

True to your title, you were a paranormal investigator which warranted a lot more work and professionalism than the standard ghost hunters you saw on TV who couldn't tell the difference between a gust of wind and a ghost. Your job was to research, conduct a proper paranormal investigation, and provide your evidence - or lack of, if it was truly devoid of haunting. But here hardly sounded like it.

Taking your time and reassuring them that you were, indeed, a professional, you went over all the usual questions with them: when did this start, how old is your house, any history of deaths in it, have you acquired any new items recently, do you have any items that were second hand or antique, any family heirlooms in the house, was it in any particular location, etc etc.

Every angle had to be considered, especially the mundane. Plenty of times, people just had a poorly constructed house, deeply held superstitions, and a touch of paranoia to make for a perfect combination of nothing happening at all. That didn’t seem to be the case here, however. While none of their answers pointed in a clear direction of what it might be, it still all pointed to signs of something unworldly happening. But that's what you were there for. To determine if there actually was a ghost, why it was there, and maybe who it was (if things went well and it felt like cooperating).

You bid them a good night as they headed off with family friends in a beat up convertible, chattering away without a care in the world as if they didn’t have a paranormal parasite problem. At least they were going to go enjoy their night by having an evening out instead of breathing down your neck like some of those who hired you. Locking the door, you trudged in with your gear and began the initial inspection with practiced ease.

A haunting in a house as young and modern as theirs was quite unusual. Open, airy rooms completed with white, sleek, almost eye-hurtingly clean interiors made up the entirety of the house. Even as night crawled higher and higher into the sky, pulling its dark cloak over the land, the house stayed bright. Nothing about it said haunted or caught your eye. The scariest thing there was likely the heating bill.

As far as your research showed, there hadn't been a death in it or on the land. The owners also seemed quite appalled at the idea of antiques (go figure) so that went right out the window, too. Normally there might be some stashed somewhere that they weren't thinking about, like the attic, but this house didn’t even have that. No basement, no attic, no creepy graveyard in the back; it was a normal, suburban house that shouldn’t have anything going on.

Perusing the house at a leisurely pace, you browsed each and every room with a thorough consciousness of finding something, anything, that could possibly have started it. Yet you turned up empty handed. Everything was as pure and alabaster as the marble countertops and the expensive sleek metal furniture.

Oh well, not every job would be easy. And not every haunted house was obligated to look run-down and rustic. Some ghosts just had more upper class tastes - or were unfortunate enough to be stuck in an eyesore like this. Maybe a ghost would add some actual personality to their home...

Seeing as they'd said there wasn't exactly a rhyme or reason as to where things would happen, you decided a central room was your best bet. The living room was open enough for everything and an easy place any spirits could find. It had plenty of room for your equipment and the open layout meant you had a great vantage point for the whole house.

Preparing your gear came as naturally as breathing to you, the tasks you've done dozens of times over were a matter of habit. Moving through the motions was your second nature as you worked, not batting an eye as you checked batteries and strategically stationed your gear. It only took a matter of minutes to have your cameras, light system, motion activated interactable objects, ghost box, and the rest of your fancy gadgets set up all around the room.

Placed on the coffee table was your heaviest piece of equipment - your modified spirit box that you had made some special adjustments to just to make sure your results were as accurate as possible. The broken antenna and attached amp weren't standard, nor were the noise reducers, but they stood as a testament to why you were a professional and why you kept getting called out to different places. You knew how to get results and tuned every tiny thing to your needs. There was no room for error or doubt alike in an already uncertain field.

Double checking everything was ready to go once more once more, you plunged the room into somewhat true darkness as you drew the curtains shut and pressed the button on the spirit box, causing it to crackle to life. Speeding through the static of radio stations, it scanned the many frequencies in a blur, far too fast for any natural noise to come through. The whirring of it evened out into a constant, muffled background noise that you’d spent countless hours listening to. Its familiar hum lulled you into a relaxed state, your heart as steady as your calm breaths despite the slight buzz of familiar adrenaline you always felt when you first started. A small beep signaled the successful activation of the digital thermometer as you walked around in a slow, even pace, checking all around.

Taking a deep breath, you began as you always had. In a confident, but even tone you called out, “Is there anyone with me right now?”

....

........

Silence.

The static of the spirit box continued to filter through in its usual constant churning hum of white noise. Typical. Many supernatural beings wouldn't want to interact, especially not at first. You don't blame them. If a stranger barged into your house and demanded if you were there, pestering you with questions as threw their belongings around, you'd not want to answer them either. That wasn’t even considering that many were so unused to people hearing them or trying to talk to them, not at them. They didn't exactly register on the same frequency that humans did most of the time.

Walking around the room, your boots echoed on the tile flooring. Your footsteps ricocheted off of the high ceilings, amplified by the lofty ceiling and wonderful acoustics this house apparently had. Keeping your attention ever shifting, you kept alert for signs of anything happening. Looking too long in the dark and expecting things to happen would only yield false results and cause paranoia. You knew far better than to do that.

Nothing lit up, nothing beeped, nothing changed. There was conclusively nothing happening for the first few, long minutes as everything kept at an unwavering constant. Visiting each room, you rechecked their temperatures and tried to find anything amiss or out of place. Yet all seemed well, still, and normal.

Only when you crossed the hallway back into the living room after a quick visit to the bedrooms did your hair stand on end. A chill ran down your spine, the once warm air now holding the barest bite of cold on the edge. Holding up the thermometer, you narrowed your eyes at the steady decrease. While it wasn't quite freezing, it kept dropping and dropping. Numbers ticked lower and lower, your hair stood further on end as a small shiver ran through you as the chill dipped lower and lower. Bingo. First sign of activity of the night. It wasn’t much but it was plenty to know that something was happening here.

Despite the crisp chill, nothing else shifted in the room. Silence prevailed behind the distant drone of your equipment; mainly the comforting, steady typical static of the spirit box. Even the appliances seemed to have gone quiet, exchanging their usual low thrumming rhythm for a break that suspended them in a noiseless limbo.

Your shifting movements echoed far louder than you would have liked as you paced around the room, looking for something new, anything. An actual tangible reaction you could record would be just what you needed but so far, the haunt was holding out. “What is your name?” You asked, keeping your voice as steady as you can as you tried to switch it up.

Continual feedback from the spirit box sounded as steady as can be. Still, there was no voice trying to get through it. The fabricated noise reigned supreme as it did its job, whirring away. Pressing your lips into a thin line, the smallest hint of a frown tugged at your lips as disappointment flickered through you. Okay, that's fine. It usually took a few tries anyways.

A faint, sparkling crackle escaped from it as you heard one, tiny word in a rumbling timbre. One, single word that halted you mid step, your head snapping towards the machine.

“Ghost.”

Doing a double take, a grin split across your face as your heart jumped with joy. A response! A true, actual response. Not that it exactly answered your question but it meant something was listening.

There was something here!

Nearly tripping over your own feet, you scampered over to your beloved machine. Your eyes fixated on the glowing orange screen, gleaming with glee.

“W-what’s your name?” You repeat a bit louder unable to hide the excited tremble in your voice or hands, figuring the ghost likely didn't hear you right.

Static white noise continued for a few seconds, the little x in the corner flashed once, twice, before it lit up solidly.

“Ghost.”

The smile you held dropped only for a fraction of a second before you cleared your throat. Well, maybe your slight stutter and excitement got in the way. You did talk fast when excited, after all. Taking a deep breath, undeterred as can be, you repeated in a far steadier voice, “What is your name?”

This time you made sure to enunciate every single syllable, speaking clear and confidently into the air.

One flashing X glowed in the corner of the screen. Another flash. A third. Fourth. Fifth.

Yet again, the deep voice came a bit louder and rougher this time. A thick Mancunian accent that barely picked up through the filter didn't dull the single word you were trying to avoid, “Ghost.”

Okay. Your brows furrowed deeper, your nose wrinkling slightly as your heart sank. The minor disappointment couldn't be kept off of your face as you really had hoped to hear something else. Approach one clearly isn't working.

Maybe he didn't speak English. Or maybe he wasn't sure that he was dead. Whatever. There was a ghost and he was answering, that's what mattered, you reminded yourself forcefully until the smile came back to your face and the smallest bit of a headache dissipated. Focus on that. Not on the slight annoyance you felt and the agitated twitch of your fingers.

Exhaling, you pursed your lips. Your grip retightened on your flashlight as you racked through questions in your mind, trying to find something that it would have to answer differently too.

“Can you do something?”

Hopeful, your eyes trailed around the room, praying that maybe the ghost would do something like interact with the many objects scattered about, or even the motion sensors.

Nothing happened for a few long moments, silence once again prevailing in the otherwise empty house.

Orange light flashed from the spirit box as the X lit up again, only for a second before the dreaded word repeated itself.

“Ghost.”

Before you could ask what that even meant, or curse it out for that matter, the spirit box and your flashlight shut off, plunging you into true darkness. The flashlight nearly flew from your hands in surprise as you flinched instinctually, your heart leaping into your throat. Frantically flickering the button of your trusty tool did nothing as you desperately tried to turn on your one source of light with the only way you knew how - only to be met with the continual sight of empty, non-shining bulbs.

Curses spilled from your lips in all the languages you knew as you fumbled for a battery pack, only to find them missing. What? But you swore that they were right there -- ugh, nevermind. This just wasn't going to be your night.

The initial panic subsided as the chill left the air, the residual regular warmth of the house sinking into the room as if blown in by a lazy breeze. Your hair still stood on end as you walked around with cautious, hesitant steps, having given up on the flashlight. There wasn't coming back from that.

It's only when you approached the spirit box, trying to turn it on to no avail, that you realized what he meant. You asked him to do something and he obliged.

He ghosted you.

God fucking damn it.

As you glared at the air in frustration, threw your hands up and personally cursed the fiend, you could've sworn you heard a resonating chuckle behind you as breath brushed against the nape of your neck in a way that sent shivers down your spine for a whole new reason.

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purplecoffee13 · 1 year

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Dangerous Love*

Summary: You know Harry’s dangerous, but isn’t that what makes it all the more exciting?

Wc: 5.3k

Tropes: POSSESSIVENESS, mafia!harry, friends-with-benefits-to-lovers, forbidden love

Warnings: degradation, slight BDSM, daddy!kink, edging & overstimulation if you squint

A/N: Yeah… about this one. I- I’ll just be in the corner, thinking about my actions…

THIS HASN’T BEEN PROOFREAD, I’LL DO THAT LATER!!!

#####

You had sworn off Harry months ago. When you found out he had been participating in some... illegal activities, it was over.

Your family was powerful, important, and most of all very clean. Harry Styles had been trying to make it in the real estate business as well, but there had been talk going around, talk of odd situations and fishy circumstances.

Your family had told you to not interact with him or any of his family on a voluntary basis, and to not hold the conversation on too long if confronted with his family anyway.

Now, you were never one to listen to your family. You had always advocated against prejudice and you firmly believed that one should never judge a book by its cover. And out of all people, you really didn't expect Harry to be the person to prove her wrong.

In the months that you had gotten to know each other at events, it had become clear that you were attracted to each other, so you two set up a relationship. A friends with benefits relationship, that was. Knowing that anything else would be too complicated, this was the best option.

It was thrilling, doing something that was wrong, while feeling so right.

But when one day you found a huge stash of coke in Harry's basement, you retreated your entire relationship with him. You couldn't have the demolition of the family weighing on your shoulders, purely out of sexual needs.

You had held up this attitude on for quite a while. It had been three months. Sure, you hadn't shared the bed with anyone because you were secretly afraid that no else would ever live up to Harry, but that was besides the point.

It was besides the point that he knew every one of your kinks and the perfect way to play into them. And it certainly didn't keep you staring at him during the entirety of this charity gala that was held at his mansion tonight.

Nope, didn't bother your at all

Despite what you had seen, Harry had built legitimacy in the last months and people had started to slowly learn to trust him. Your parents were still skeptic about him (rightfully so), but the rest of the community had already warmed up to the Styles family.

It hadn't been easy to keep your eyes off Harry, especially with him dressed in that all black suit of his. It was certainly a sight to see and you had almost spilled champagne on yourself the first time you got lost in his eyes. You didn't miss the way his mouth quirked up. He knew.

The entire evening went slow, and you tried not to look to disinterested when your date, a guy that your parents had tried to match you with, asked you to dance. You politely accepted and did your best not to yawn as he talked about some 'impressive' business deal he made.

Then, suddenly, someone tapped on his shoulder and asked to borrow you for a dance. Naturally, your date accepted the request from none other than Harry, and soon you found yourself dancing with him.

You'd tried your best to keep your distance, but it was really hard, mainly because he had a really tight grip on your waist. His face was leaning against the side of yours, and you heard him inhaling your perfume. You didn't dare close your eyes, you were afraid someone would see how much you were secretly enjoying this moment.

When the dance came to an end, Harry whispered something to you.

"Meet me in my bedroom in ten minutes."

Without another word, he kissed your hand and let you go, walking away to entertain some guests. You returned to your family, who asked if everything was alright and you confirmed that it was.

After five minutes of eagerly waiting, you excused yourself from your family, claiming to visit the ladies room and then step outside for some fresh air.

Instead, you took a different route and quietly headed upstairs until you had reached the bedroom. You sat down on the king sized bed and waited in agony, but soon enough the door clicked open.

For a second you were afraid it was someone else, but those worries flew out the window the moment you saw Harry's satisfied grin at the sight of you sitting on his bed.

"I knew you'd come." He stalked towards me. "You'll always come back to me."

You just looked up at him with big eyes, waiting for him to make the next move. You still weren’t sure what you were doing here, all you knew is that you needed to see him again.

"Did you come here with a date?" He asked in a soft tone, caressing your cheek as he leaned down to be on eye to eye level with you.

You didn't say anything, simply leaning your head into his hand and closing you eyes. There was no one to see you now, so it was safe to enjoy his touch.

"Answer me."

"Yes... I did."

"And yet, you're here. Sitting in front of me, knowing what I'm going to do, now that I have you to myself." He kept his tone sweet, but the contradiction of his dominant words made your heat throb.

"Harry–"

You were cut off by his hand flying to your neck, slightly choking you before you could finish your sentence.

"I don't remember that we agreed on that name, now did we?"

Dramatic ass.

"Sir... please. I've missed you, I've felt so empty without you." You immediately began to plead, automatically playing into his sexual preferences. Harry liked to be in control and you liked to give it to him. There was no one who could do it like he could.

"Poor little thing, have you been so deprived?" He rhetorically asked, to which you immediately started to nod. He gave a little squeeze with his hand, tightening his grip around your neck before resuming to the looser grip it had before. There was no stopping the whines that fell from your lips, they just happened.

"Yeah, you fucking did that to yourself, didn't you? When you walked away from me." Harry's tone had lowered and he sounded very frustrated, he sounded angry.

"Didn't you?"

"I did, sir." You complied, your submissive side taking over completely. It was very easy for you to give into him, especially because you knew what you'd get in return.

"So?" He pushed further, wanting you to apologize to him for making the both of you suffer for so long.

"'M sorry, sir." Your doe eyes met his blown pupils, and you felt yourself getting wetter with every passing second just from the feeling of his rings against your neck. Harry chuckled at your apology, and you could have expected the words that came out of his mouth next.

"I don't think you’re sorry, darling." He smirked at you, letting go of his hold on you and walking to the chair in the corner of the bedroom. He sat himself down, spreading his legs wide open and rubbing over his thighs.

"I am!" You turned your head towards him, annoyed with the fact that he was discrediting your words.

"Then take off your dress, get on your knees and show me you're fucking sorry."

You couldn't have possibly been quicker to take off your clothes. Harry leaned back in his chair with lit up eyes as you sank to the ground and got on hands and knees. There was no missing the bulge that grew more painful with every inch that you came closer.

You loved these kinds of moments, those were you knew you affected him just as much as he did you.

He simply waited as you un-did his belt and unbuttoned his pants. Only when you pulled his pants down a little bit did he shuffle along to get in a comfortable position. His cock sprung out of his underwear, and from the looks of it he was painfully hard.

You had missed his cock. You had missed the way it felt in your hands, in your mouth, in your pussy. The ragged sigh that fell from your lips was one of desperation. You couldn't wait to have him inside of you again, but you knew you had to work for it.

With a desperate expression on your face, you darted your eyes up to Harry, waiting to see if he had any instructions you should follow. You practically melted at the way when sat there, leaned back with his head resting on his palm.

"Go ahead." He encouraged, and that was enough for you to spit on your hand and start stroking his length. Harry's jaw clenched in an instant and his body shifted just a tiny bit at your touch, but you noticed it nonetheless.

A breath of relief came all the way back from his throat, and it induced every bit of your confidence to see him crumble at your touch. You kept stroking him for a bit before you decided that enough was enough, you needed him in your mouth.

Reaching closer, you softly planted your lips against his throbbing erection, and heard him gasp at the feeling of it. You spent the first few moments focusing on his sensitive tip and massaging his balls before pulling away from his hard shaft completely.

He had only opened his eyes halfway when you licked a stripe all the way from the base of his cock to the tip, and then took him in your mouth. His sudden body spasm caused his cock to dig deeper into your mouth, reaching the back of your throat. You moaned loudly, knowing you'd be completely drenched through your panties if he'd repeat his actions.

Harry hadn't missed your extremely loud and arousing reaction to him accidentally shoving his dick further up your throat. He had always just let you suck his dick. Out of the many things you'd tried together, he had never fucked your face before.

He was satisfied to hear you yell against his cock when he did it again.

"Do you like choking on my cock, sweetheart?" He questioned, bucking his hips when you squeezed his balls a bit. In retaliation, he gathered your hair together and wrapped it around his head.

"Let's see how well you can get me off, huh?" He grinned before pushing your head down on his cock. You focused on breathing through your nose as he used you as if he was using his own hands, and you loved it.

The noises that came out of your mouth were desperate and almost embarrassing. You looked up at Harry, who had his head thrown back as he went crazy with working himself up to an orgasm.

"You're such a fucking desperate cock slut. J-Just for me..." He talked to you, but mainly to get closer to his orgasm. You kept on touching his balls and let him use you to work himself to his high.

"Ah, I'm gonna cum– Fuck!" In the middle of his sentence, Harry's tight grip on your hair loosened and you felt the first spurts of his cum shoot through your throat. Your eyes fluttered shut, feeling proud of yourself for making him come so fast.

He pulled your head away from his cock and stroke his hand over your hair until it looked slightly less messy.

Without so much as a word, he put on his pants again and got out of his seat. He grabbed your wrist and guided you to his bed, where he ordered you to sit with your back leaned against the bed frame.

You patiently waited as he rummaged through his drawer and turned around with two ties in his hand. You tried to hide the grin that formed on your face, you knew this meant you were going to have great sex.

Whenever Harry did anything that involved bondage, it meant that you were going to have a great orgasm. You both got so turned on from it, and you had no idea why.

You obeyed him sweetly when he ordered you to hold your hands up, and looked at him with fond eyes as he tied your to his bed and blindfolded you. After the knot was secured, you heard his footsteps walking towards what you assumed to be the end of the bed.

"You look so pathetic, totally at my mercy. Be a good girl and stay still for me until I'm back." He bragged, drenching your core with his dirty words, until you realized what he was saying.

"Until you're back–" You couldn't even finish your sentence before the door slammed to interrupt it.

You couldn't believe it. Was he going to make you wait here? Tied up and blindfolded? What a fucking dick.

The wait was excruciating, especially considering your lack of knowledge about when he'd be back. It felt like hours, even though you knew it wasn't, maybe one hour. Nonetheless you suffered as you waited until Harry was choosing to come back to make you feel good.

You did realize how wrong it was to be so aroused by the fact that he used you like a rag doll, but you were also aware that your kinks didn't define anything about you in your day to day life. It was a sexual preference and it didn't say anything about you as a person.

The relief was insane when you heard the bedroom door open and a pair of footsteps graced the wooden floors.

"I got your phone, love." You heard Harry's footsteps stalk towards you. "Texted your mother and said you went home early because you were feeling sick."

"Thank you, sir."

At this point, you'd do and say anything for an orgasm, including thanking him for everything he did.

"Such good manners, darlin'. I think you should put those to use and inform your little date that you're not interested anymore, or ever were in the first place."

You hummed in agreement. You had never liked Dylan, and this was a good excuse to get him out of the way. Harry took your blindfold off, and though the soft light was harsh on your eyes, you were glad you could finally see him.

What you hadn't expected, though, was for Harry to actually call Dylan with your phone and lay the device next to you. You instantly started freaking out.

"Right now?!" You exclaimed, stressed and hoping Dylan wouldn't pick up.

"Yes." Harry answered like it was the most logical thing in the world.

"But–"

"Tell him or I won't let you cum." He barked, and just as he finished his sentence, Dylan picked up, and Harry went down.

His mouth touched your heat the second you heard a 'hello' through your phone's speaker.

"Dylan, hi!" You said breathily.

"Hey, I've been looking for you everywhere. Where are you?" He asked. The worry in his voice made Harry roll his eyes. He might have thought you couldn't see it, but during sex you would never keep your eyes off of Harry for even one second, and that included today.

"Oh.. I-I went home early. 'M not feeling so good!" You shrieked when Harry suddenly started to kitten lick your clit. The fucker really wanted you to slip up.

"Are you okay?"

"No! Yes! I mean, I almost tripped but I'm fine." You quickly made up an excuse. You couldn't tell if your cheeks were red from extreme embarrassment or plain arousal. Probably both.

"Okay. D'you want me to come over?"

As soon as those words left Dylan's mouth, Harry pulled away and spanked your clit, making your hips buck and let out a yelp.

"Hello?"

"N-no! I wanted to talk to you about that..." you said, and the whiny tone in your voice sounded like you were getting emotional over it, when in reality you were just frustrated with Harry teasing you so much. "I don't think we should date anymore."

"What? Why not? Did I do something?"

"I just–" I looked down at Harry, who raised his brows at me, which meant 'go on, tell him'.

"I'm... with somebody else."

"Wait what?" The aggression in Dylan's voice made Harry stop in his tracks. He got off the bed and sat next to you before slipping in two fingers without warning. You let out a gasp, quite literally crumbling at his touch, but he was focused on the phone call, a deep crease between his brows as he listened to Dylan.

"Why didn't you fucking tell me that three dates ago?"

Harry's eyes darted towards you, waiting for your answer. It seemed like he was genuinely curious about what you had to say.

"It's complicated, okay? I just– I can't date you anymore, I belong to someone else now."

You couldn't bring yourself to keep your eyes open as you answered Dylan. It was true, you did belong to Harry. You could pretend all you want but at the end of the day he was right, you'd always come back to him. Dylan could listen for all you cared, you just needed Harry inside of you.

"I don't think it's complicated, I just think you're a slu—”

Suddenly, the phone call stopped.

Your eyes shot open, and you were met with the sight of Harry throwing your phone on the chair next to the bed.

With a bit of tension in your stomach from the words you'd uttered just before, you watched as Harry pulled his fingers out of you and made his way back to his former position, with his head between your legs.

He didn't say anything, he just put his tongue on your clit and started flicking mercilessly while simultaneously shoving three fingers inside of you. You screamed out at the sudden motion, giving your wrists a hard tug against the knotted tie around them.

Your back arched as you felt your high nearing. You didn't think you would have the ability to wait until you got verbal permission from Harry to come, but the way he was attacking your clit seemed like permission enough.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck... I'm gonna cum, 'm gonna– oh my god! Please!" You rambled on and on, feeling the need to beg for a release anyway. It was like your body didn't allow you to do anything unless he said so.

"Please, please... daddy, please!" The desperate cries made him moan out, the vibrations on your clit sending shocks through your body. He ripped his mouth away from you and replaced it with his finger which rubbed dizzily fast circles on your clit.

"C'mon, soak my fingers baby."

His taunting voice was the last thing you heard before a high pitched ringing took over, and you could've sworn you blacked out for a second. The pulsating waves of pleasure took over your entire body from head to toe, and soon enough you realized what was happening.

You had just squirted all over the bed, and Harry.

Your entire body felt exhausted from this orgasm alone, and you found yourself wondering how the hell you were going to survive tonight because you knew it wouldn't be the last one.

"Fucking hell." Harry breathed a soft chuckle of pride, taking off his now wet dress shirt. "I've never been able to get you to do that before."

"I've never been able to do that before, ever." I laughed along, flabbergasted at how good that felt. Harry just smiled, a real smile, before he crawled over you and undid the knot that tied you to the bed. He threw the tie to the side and leaned forwards to cup your face before kissing you. You instantly wrapped your legs around his waist, pushing him against you even more. As your tongues circled around each other, Harry slowly switched positions until he was laying besides you .

The kiss lasted a while, and it held a newfound passion to it that you hadn't experienced in your previous times kissing Harry. When he pulled away, he kept himself quiet, scanning every feature in your face while his thumb stroked your cheek.

"Did you mean that?" He finally spoke up.

"What?" You slightly tilted your head, confused with his soft tone all of a sudden. You weren't used to this version of him.

"That you're mine."

"Harry, I—"

"Because I want you to be. I want you to be mine, and I want to be yours, if you'll have me." He confessed, and you could've sworn you felt yourself melt into the bed.

Your parents were going to disown you. You were going to get kicked out of the house and have nothing left but the words of an unpredictable man.

There had never been a clearer, better answer for this, and yet you found yourself still wanting to say the exact opposite.

"My parents hate you, Harry. And for the right reasons. Your life... it's dangerous. I shouldn't be getting sucked into that." You began talking, and saw the way he lost hope for a positive answer.

Suddenly, you rolled over so that the both of you were flipped, and you were sitting on his lap. He laid there, eyes a bit wide at you suddenly taking charge. He was obviously curious to see where it was going, otherwise he wouldn't have let you.

"I know all of this..." You leaned forwards stroking your hands through his hair. "And I still can't keep my hands off of you."

With those words you pulled at his roots, making Harry wince under you. His jaw was slacked, and he felt confused with how arousing this was. Harry had never been in any other position than the dominant one, nothing else had ever turned him on before, except for this, for you.

"I know I shouldn't, but I still can't stop myself from craving your big, sweet cock." You continued, taking off your bra and smirking at the way his tattooed chest rose up and down quickly sight of your bare breasts. You lifted yourself up a bit, getting your pussy in line with the tip of his cock.

"And I can't help but–" you cut yourself off with a loud moan as you sank on his hard and long shaft. Slowly but surely, you began to grind back and forth, getting comfortable with his length again as it had been a while.

"Oh! Mmm, fuck!" You cried out.

"Look at you—" Harry leaned on his elbows, looking up at you with fond eyes. "fucking yourself with my cock. Does that feel good, baby?"

"Mm.. ah– it feels so good sir." You were panting now, overwhelmed with how good it felt to have him inside of you again. You started bouncing yourself on his dick to get some tempo into it.

"Such pretty tits." He mumbled, fondling them and pinching your nipples. "All mine, baby?"

He couldn't help but ask, you didn't finish your little speech after all because you were too desperate for his cock.

"Tell me." He encouraged, spanking your ass with his right hand, which made you sink down on his cock very swiftly. "Are you mine, now?"

You moaned and cried and whined, but still managed to conjure a slight smirk on your face as you looked at him.

"Make me yours, daddy."

That was enough for Harry, and before you knew it, you were pulled off his cock and thrown on the bed, laying on your stomach.

In an instant, you felt your lips being lifted up and his cock being sunk into you again. Harry leaned forward to grab your worst and hold them on your back, before nearly pulling out and then ramming himself into you at an ungodly pace. It caused a high pitched scream to leave your mouth, something which did not happen often during sex for you.

"That's right, take it." he kept his quick pace steady as you gasped from under him. "Whose fucking pussy is this, hmm? I wanna hear you say it."

Your sounds were slightly muffled by the pillow and therefore incomprehensible, so he leaned over and grabbed your neck, choking you as he pulled your head up.

"C'mon, who owns you?"

"You do! Fuck! You own me, daddy, I'm yo– oh! 'M yours!" Your answer came out like it was word vomit. You couldn't stop saying everything he wanted to hear, and he loved it. He got off on your submission to him, on the way you let him be in control. He'd never admit it, but the main reason he took such a liking to it is because it showed that you trusted him despite what you knew about him.

He kept pounding into you, and smirking when he felt your core clenching against his cock already.

"You gonna cum already?"

"Mm.. yesss!"

"Pathetic little cock slut... you just love getting used, don't you?"

When you didn't answer, he spanked you, hard.

"I do! I do, sir!" You quickly replied, your ears ringing from the stinging pain on your bum.

"You know you're nothing more than a hole for me to use at any time I want. My filthy little whore. All mine, forever." It was now Harry's turn to start rambling, and he almost lost himself, but quickly regained traction. He wasn't done with you, and he couldn't permit himself to cum yet.

You did cum, though. The moment the word 'forever' left his mouth, you exploded, in every way possible. You entire body was spasming and Harry slowed himself down as you creamed his cock. The sounds of your intercourse become more adamant now that there was more... liquid involved, and hearing Harry's cock in your pussy was the definition of arousal for you.

Harry didn't exactly let you ride out your high, instead pushing you fully down on the bed and flipping your body so you were laying on your sides. He held his hands firmly on your hips as he went to lay down behind you.

You were quite surprised with the position, it was something you two had never done before. Harry always deemed positions like that to be too intimate, so it felt out of the ordinary for him to have you like this, but now that you were being really intimate it also felt way better.

The groan leaving Harry's throat when he pushed himself inside you again confirmed that he was thinking the same thing. Your jaw was slacked, euphoria shooting through your body at the feeling of the new angle and a certain spot he managed to hit very easily.

"O-oh my..." The half-sentence escaped your lips before you could even think about what you were saying.

"Did I hit your sweet spot, baby? Is that right?" Harry taunted. His body was entirely pressed up against yours, and you could hear him panting against your neck.

"Yeah— Fuck!"

Your response was interrupted by Harry, who decided that it was the perfect timing for him to get in an extra hard thrust. Solely that action had almost made you come, and while you felt it slowing down quickly afterwards, it didn't take long to rise again when he started kissing your neck.

You turned your head around with the energy you had left, and pleaded for him to kiss you, to which he happily obliged. The taste of him against your lips, the feeling of him inside of you and the sound of his skin slapping against yours proved too much for you to bare, but you desperately wanted to try and come undone at the same time. And so, you pulled away from Harry's soft lips to whisper some dirty words right back to him.

"Harry, baby..." you said in a whiny voice, causing him to moan. You knew he wouldn't approve of you just calling him Harry between the sheets, you were taking a risk with this, but luckily he didn't mind.

In fact, he was going mad. Those words sounded so good coming from your mouth, especially now he knew that they were directed to him.

"Wh-what is it, darling?" He tried to keep his composure, almost exploding at the mere sight of you looking so fucked out.

"I want you to cum, daddy... with me. Please? I've been so good." You requested, putting up your best puppy eyes. Harry winced at your words, knowing there was no holding him back now.

"I'll fill you up, baby. Get yourself there again, then." He managed to say, rocking into you more slowly, but with more impact. It was easier to keep up at least some rhythm this way.

You guided your hand to your sensitive clit and started rubbing it ferociously. You're were aware of the fact that Harry wasn't going to be able to hold it in for much longer. With how aroused you were, you didn't think it to be much of a problem. Harry's right hand had traveled to your tits in the mean time, massaging them harshly while he resumed rocking into you. And just like clockwork, you were getting dangerously close to your orgasm again.

"I'm gonna cum, daddy! Ahh!!" You screamed out shamelessly, unable to stop yourself from rubbing your clit. It was as if your fingers were glued to your vagina, you couldn't deny yourself from this orgasm. The way your pussy was pulsating was also noted by Harry, who was growling like an animal. He became more and more aggressive with how hard he was fucking into you, the entire bed shaking from the impact.

"Jesus fuck— I'm coming, I'm— argh!" the string of incoherent words left his mouth as your body bounced along to his slamming thrusts. Soon enough, you heard some exhausted moans coming from Harry as he fucked himself through his orgasm. The beautiful sounds from your now-boyfriend were the final thing that brought you to your third climax of the night.

You screamed out in ecstasy, as the pulsating waved of pleasure took you away for a second. It felt like all your sense had shut off for those moments, and that there was nothing else but immense pleasure.

Harry came inside you, filling your walls with his cum. It felt too good to be true, especially combined with the guttural grunts coming from the back of his throat as he buried his head into your neck. When you noticed the grip on your hips had become less firm, you knew that he was slowly coming down from his orgasm. You both were both still panting, and kept silent as Harry carefully pulled himself out of you.

The empty feeling you had was made up for by a ton of kisses to your neck and your cheek, which made you chuckle a bit.

"Are you okay, baby?" Harry asked. No matter how many times you guys shared the bed, you would never not get butterflies from his attentiveness after the sex. He'd do everything you asked. Hell, he'd run around town looking for everything you need if he had to.

"Never been better." You turned your head to look at him; you wanted him to know that it wasn't some sarcastic comment. In fact, you were ecstatic with the fact that whatever was going on between the two of you was now settled.

"Can't believe you're mine now." He sighed, his face painted with a smile so big that you could see his dimples from miles away. He planted a kiss to your swollen lips and ran his hands through your messy hair.

"Yeah, you're stuck with me forever." You teased, your hand now also finding his brown locks.

"Hmm, best life sentence I could ask for."

#harry styles #Harry styles smut #Harry styles one shot #oneshot #one shot #Harry styles smut one shot #Harry #styles #fanfic #fanfic one shot #mafia!harry #Harry Edward styles #fanfiction

746 notes · View notes

not-goldy · 2 months

Note

Girl, when you said Jk be petty & jikook be ghetto, you damn sure wasn't lying. You were spot on and people said you were wrong. Hell NO. You were right. You read that man like a book.

Jk really be out giving "pulling Jimin's pigtails for attention, but 'obviously' not cause I like you or anything, even tho deep down I like you" energy. The hell you mean "I didn't call you when you were busy and I was free" but instead I started up several Jimin centered lives about you. HUH? So instead of calling him normally, you start up OTT Jimin lives seeking his attention non stop and when he gets there act like you weren't begging like a dog in heat now that you got him there and cameras are all over you? Gonna look him dead in the face and say I didn't call you, but then calls another member in his face, saying I love you, hehehehe, while Jimin's head is hanging down, then hit him again with I miss the members & ignore Jimin when he says he's a member. Then gonna say, oh by the way I plan on spending my life with you, lets do this til we're 50, but don't worry, I will tell you the entire time I miss the members to make you feel bad because I'm bitter you spent the better part of our hiatus away from me, not giving me attention and I had to act like a fool to get it, because I was too proud to pick up the phone. Sure I have your phone number, I send you bday texts at 10:13, you send me pics, proving that have each other's numbers & we have BTS group chat, IG Dm's, friends who have your number, private ways of communicating and CALLING directly, but yes, instead, lets do multiple Jimin lives in front of millions after I say I miss you, but then when you get here, its a different tune. One day you will let it go and just admit you like the man Mr. I only go to his room all day every day seven days a damn week cause I'm bored. Sure Jan. When Tae's room is there and other members, but Jimin's bed is the most comfortable, right? The closest, nothing to do with Jimin. Right? Mr. I hate everything cause you're sick and in the hospital, but now when you are here and you are sick, I'll just tease you. You called it then too with his acting out behavior when Jimin was in the hospital. This man is about to make me call him out and I am so dead ass serious.

Lmho

Glad you are catching on

Cos mansplaining jikook over and over gets old

56 notes · View notes

misguidedasgardian · 2 months

Text

Wildcats (Part XV)

XV. The Canary

MASTERLIST

Summary: You are trying… to get everything you all deserve.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Zombie apocalypse AU, living dead, zombies, guts, blood, guns, injures, low self esteem thoughts (there we go in Daryl’s head again) I want to say that what he “thinks” is what he thinks, not I, alright? didn’t know how to say it hahaha, illusions of someone who’s dead, hits of nudity.

+18, MINORS DNI

Notes: Alright... I'm growing impatient so...

Daryl watched you sleep comfortably, flanked by Tara and Rosita, and a feeling of guilt settled on his chest.

He watched the rest of his family, making it here, in this nice community, and he felt even worse. He was pushing you away, and he didn’t even know why. He felt himself feeling uneasy, even though you were now in the safest palace you could be.

Everybody was going to settle in here, and he wasn’t

He was not going to make it, all he had received from the people in Alexandria were scared glances, and then he remembered why… He meant it as he thought, he believed it, if you had seen him, in the old world, in the street or something, he was sure you would have walked in a different direction, any of them would, he knew it.

And now? You were living in a 800.000 dollar house community, that mirrored the old world as you all knew it, the best part of it, and here he was.

Daryl wasn’t an idiot, he saw the way Deanna’s sons looked at you, and who wouldn’t? now you were going to realize how good you could truly have it, and he wasn’t on that package. So he started to pull away, before you would.

And this happened in the matter of mere days, this hard realization

At first, the first day, he didn’t buy it, but then he started to, and that scared him the most.

This was real

But you deserved it, Carl, Judith, they deserved it too. You deserved to be here, his entire family deserved it too. So you had to make it work, and he was going to be content by just being here, with you, even if from afar.

That’s why he met with Rick and Carol beyond the walls the very next morning. The three of them shared the same concern

“They have a cradle filled with guns, they never use them, they are never gonna know they’re missing”, said Carol

“Do you think they won’t notice?”, asked Rick

“It should be easy, I’ll sneak in, I’ll leave the latch unlocked”, muttered Carol, “we can come back when it’s empty”

“what if someone closes it?”, asked Daryl

“We can try another day”, said Carol dismissively

“How is the group taking this?”, asked Rick, “we can’t let them know, but… I want to know what they are thinking”

“They seem ok”, said Carol, Rick looked at Daryl

“What is she thinking about all of this?”, asked Rick. Daryl looked at his friend through his hair. He didn’t say names but he knew exactly who Rick was referring to.

“How should I know?”, he asked back, defensively

“You two talk”, he said, softly

“She is weary”, he said, “still on guard, she is ready to jump at any moment but she will enjoy this as much as she can”, he said, or that is what it looked like on your end, “I had seen ‘er, trying to grab her gun, but its not there anymore”, Rick and Carol shared looks.

“Well, relax her”, said Rick, Carol looked at him smirking, with a sneaky glint in her eyes. Rick walked away and she wasted no time in pushing him playfully by his shoulder

“Relax her Daryl”, she teased

“Shut up”, he growled. Rick stood there, watching the interaction closely, and then, he and Carol just stared at the archer, “wha’?”

“You clearly like her”, said Rick

“Na”

“And she likes you”, he continued

“She doesn’t like me”, he said, like he was 15 again

“For the love of god you are thick”, mocked Carol, “Daryl, she is crazy about you, have you seen those puppy eyes of her?”

“Nah”, he said, shaking his head, “why would she? she is… from another world, completely, she is… young, she knows more than one language…”, both Carol and Rick snorted

“So?”, asked Rick

You took a soft breath as you looked at the room you had picked for yourself, in the bigger house, where you had been sleeping, and you picked a room on the third floor. By the one that wasn’t quite finished yet. It was comfortable, meant to be some sort of entertaining room. The roof was on an A-shape, making it shorter in two of the walls, but that detail made it more… homey, once you get a few pillows and cushions on the bed, some color, this space was to be your home, as the house you were going to share with Rick, Carl, Michonne, and Daryl, who, in a kind of funny way, had taken the basement for himself.

Only when you stood there, watching your room, and you realized the house was empty, you actually jumped onto your bed as if you were a little kid again. taking the time to enjoy the warmth of the sun in your face through the windows.

Old habits die hard, and from here you could access the roof easily, even though you were on the third floor. It was safer.

You couldn’t wait to get out there again, scavenge, to bring things back here… to your room, to decorate it, and then you almost slapped yourself for thinking this sort of thing in the middle of the apocalypse.

Even though the arrival had been… difficult, to say the least, the crash between your group and the Alexandrians had been brutal, you could tell that things were going for the better. You all were getting ready to adapt to “society” again, it wasn’t going to be easy… Tonight was going to be the first step… of your people adapting, tonight was going to be the “welcome” dinner Deanna had set up for you all, and you were… nervous, because as you had hopes for your team, you also had fears.

What if it didn’t happen? What if you were to be cast out? What if your team didn’t adapt? you weren’t all convinced about this either, even now you had fucking air conditioning, and your own room, in your own house… You were going to need to adapt to the chain of command in this place, to adapt to the people and their customs and “laws”, and “rules”. You didn’t want to bend to their wants either.

You took what Daryl had told you to heart… the people who you truly cared about, where those seventeen people in your group, you had created a comfortable dynamic… you knew them, you were some sort of warped up family.

Could you try? you were excited about the job that had been given to you, but you also figure out that, even that was conditional…

You did not want to go to the party tonight, your social anxiety taking a hold on you again, but you had to try, right? you had to make an effort.

You didn’t know three of the strongest members of your family were plotting, though, their feelings on the matter… similar to yours, their fears, of not adapting, but they took it a bit far, as they were not willing to be kicked out, but rather…

They were set on conquest.

. . .

Daryl breathed in heavily, he even looked at the house, lit up with life, he recognized Glenn, Maggie, even Noah, through the windows, he heard the laughs and the talks, he… stopped himself from going to this party, Aaron thought he should, so here he was, trying…

“Look at you… little brother”, he closed his eyes, he knew he was imagining it, he knew Merle couldn’t possibly be by his side, talking in his ear, “planning on joining those fine people over there?”, he mocked, “Do you think they’ll want a dirty redneck like you hanging around?”, he couldn't answer, he just couldn’t, “they would have hide their wallets and nice things if they saw you coming, lookin’ all native like that”

“Shut up”, he mumbled

“What are you doing, creeping around?”, you asked Daryl, and he flinched, you clearly caught him off guard, he turned to look at you, and he stared for a little. You had put some more effort into your outfit tonight, only to get to the party.

“Why are you not in ‘ere?”, he mumbled, like a kid who had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar

“I didn't like fake dinner parties back then I don’t like them now”, you said quickly, he eyed you up and down.

“You look like yer’ fit right in ‘ere”, he said, “all dolled up”, you laughed, to take the tension out of the environment. You already had reservations about attending, but Daryl might be just the one to help you decide after all.

“Believe me I don’t”, you said quickly with a chuckle. “I would rather be…”, with you, you thought, “anywhere”, you whispered finally, he only hummed. “Why didn’t you go in?”, you asked him, he looked back at you, with that looks that said he didn’t want to tell you about it, but, he then softened his gaze and looked back at the house

“An outdoors cat dun belong inside”, he muttered, you only chuckled

“Who the fuck said that?”, you mocked with a smile, he looked back at you, seeming impressed, “we are not cats, Daryl, we are people, survivors”

“Dun’ matter”, he said, shaking his head, “I dun belong in ‘ere”, you looked at him with sad eyes, and he didn’t like it at all

“You might think that, Daryl, that you do not belong here, but you belong with us”, you said with a sure face. “And right now, we might belong here, we will make it ours, this place, we will adapt, they will adapt”, you said. He smiled shyly, and nodded.

“I’m gonna go”, he muttered, he had taken seriously the things you had said, he did…

“Daryl”, you called, he looked up at you, “you deserve nice things, you deserve to be loved and cared for, you know? you deserve to be here, with your family that loves you”, you said, and you said it truthfully, because without him, you all would probably die of starvation.

“Why are ya’ sayin these things?”, he asked, truly… touched… shaken, more accurately

“Because I mean them”, you said, “and you deserve to hear them”, you said, you walked until you reached him, grabbing onto his hand, he let you, “I don’t know why you had been… pushing me away lately, but.. I just want to say… I don’t like it”, you confessed, “I miss you”

“Sorry ‘bout tha”, he muttered, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, he squeezed your hand back, that single contact, make the both of you tingle with excitement

“If we are not going to the party, I think we should… get something to eat”, you suggested, and he nodded. You walked back towards your house, and you had a feeling in your belly, that something might…

“Why are you both not at the party?”, you turned to meet Aaron, coming out of his house

“Why ain’t you?”, Daryl asked back

“I’m taking care of Erick, I have the perfect excuse”, he said softly, “come, both of you”, he said signaling for you to enter his house, “I have wine, we can make pasta”, he said softly

“Eh no”, you said, they both looked at you, “I can make pasta”, you said, putting emphasis on the “I” part. They both smiled as you almost ran towards his house.

Daryl, surprisingly, followed you to Aaron’s house, and you were so relieved

“Hey Erick!”, you greeted

“Hey! nice to see you again”

“How are you holding on?”, you asked

“Hurts like a bitch, but I’m fine”

“Alright! Let's fire this up!”, you said gleefully, and you took complete control of the kitchen, Aaron even took out his vinyl collection, putting on some classics

You almost cried when you saw those cradles filled with dry pasta, it was part of your favorite dish, and making the sauce to go with it was another part you enjoyed too much.

“Walker killer and killer sauce maker”, said Erick with a smile as he savored the sauce you were making

“Well, you better take notes because I never make the same sauce twice”, you said happily. “Not because I want to but because I never take the measures”, you laughed, your eyes crossed with Daryl’s, and for the first time he has been here, he smiled sincerely, looking at you.

The four of you ate, sharing funny stories about your life before, and even about recently.

“So, when you are out there, if you find a pasta maker… you really would be doing all of us a favor”, ended Erick

“When he is out there?”, you asked, “what do you mean?”, you looked at allt he men on the table

“You didn’t ask him yet”, said Erick, to Aaron

“Not yet”, he said with a nervous smile

“Wha’?”, asked Daryl. Aaron invited him to the garage, and you were left alone with Erick, not that you minded.

“He is going to ask him to be the new recruiter”, he said softly. And a pang of bitterness spread on your chest

“That means he will be going out there a lot, right?”, you asked him, he caught you in a second

“He can take care of himself”, he said softly

“I know”, you assured him, but him going out there, with only Aaron as company, for days at a time, made something bitter settle in your chest. But at the same time, you knew he was going to be perfect for the job.

A couple of hours later found the both of you walking back home in silence…

“Did you say yes?”, you asked him softly

“Yeah”, he said.

“So…”, you teased softly, “you are all in now, right?”, you really wanted to know what he thought about all of this, about this place, “putting on the team’s pants”, he chuckled softly

“Guesso”, he said

“Do you really want to stay here?”, you asked him

“Judith n’ Carl, they deserve it”, he said, repeating like a parrot, what you believe he had told himself many times already since you crossed the gates.

“But that will not be enough”, you muttered

“How ‘bout ya?”, he asked.

“I want to give it a try, although, I get it’s not going to be easy”, you looked at him, and, as when you first found him staring at the house… you felt like a pull. “Daryl”, you called, but you didn’t even know what you were going to say

“Mmm?”, he hummed, looking back at you

“I…”, you got quiet, rethinking what you were about to say, “when you go out there… come back”, you said, your voice trembling

“I’ll always come back”, he assured you. You wanted to say more, he did too, but the words just couldn't come out of your mouths. You kept walking, until you reached the house

“So…”, you said, “you chose the basement…”, you said with a tone of mockery

“Ya chose the damn attic”, he said back. You laughed

“Old habits die hard I guess”, you whispered, you were standing on the porch now, and you guessed that if you entered, the night was going to be over.

But he didn’t want to go in, and neither did you. Your eyes looked him up and down, he still looked the very same he did when he first got here.

“Some more than others”, you observed with a teasing smile on your face

“Wha?”, he asked, a smile sneaking into his face.

“Still haven’t taken that shower, uh?”

“Yes I did”, he chuckled, but was a bit defensive

“Cheater cheater pumpkin eater”, you sang. You looked at him to find him staring back at you. An amused glint on his face, “what are you so afraid of?”, you asked him.

Of not seeing your face everyday, of not being enough for you, of being rejected by you

Daryl just looked at your face, everything and nothing going through his mind at the same time.

“And she likes you”

“Daryl, she is crazy about you, have you seen those puppy eyes of her?”

“Come on little brother”, Merle was right there, behind you, “you know she wants to, just get in there!”, and then he started making nasty sounds, vulgar ones, with his tongue as he was… “pretty thing she is!”, he kept teasing him.

Daryl lost your eye contact, shaking his head softly

Have you gone too far? you thought, maybe you insulted him

“Show me”, he said, you looked at him wide eyed. A sneaky smile appeared on your face.

Your heart was beating strong inside your chest, with excitement, did he really meant? you didn’t know what he meant, but you wanted to find out.

But the door to the house opened, and Rick showed up, looking at the both of you. You both separated from one another, not even realizing you had come that close in the first place.

Rick looked at the pair of you and smiled

“Why weren’t you at the party?”, he was mocking you, and you felt like you were being given an earful by your parent, you looked at him wide-eyed

“We were.. uh…”

“We were going to but we….”, you and Daryl mumbled at the same time.

You had been “caught”, you no longer had the house to yourselves, so you just nodded, shamefully.

“I need to talk to you”, Rick said softly, speaking to you

“Right now?”, you asked him

“Yes”, he said. Daryl just grumbled something and entered the house, Rick exited and stood there. You sat together on the porch

“I was planning to go, I got distracted…”, you rambled, Rick thought you were lying, he sighed loudly, in exasperation

“You know why I made the decision of letting you stick around with us?”, he asked, you looked at him

“My incredible personality?”, he chuckled

“No”, he said softly, shaking his head

“Walker bait”, you said then with a small smile, “and then I just kept holding onto life”, you said, he chuckled again

“Your humanity”, he answered, “you still got yours, and I wanted that for my son, and for myself, and for the group”, you were touched, you were, but you also didn’t know what to answer to that. You shared looks and you nodded

“Meeting the lot of you it's been the best thing that’s ever happened to me since this started”, you whispered. He placed his hand on your shoulder

“Please…”, he said “talk to me”, you sighed.

“About?”, you asked him. You thought about what Maggie and Michonne had said, that he listened to you. You didn’t think much of it until now.

“I need you to tell me, what you think about this place”, he said softly. You both sat on the chairs on the porch.

“I don’t know Rick”, you murmured, “it’s fine, it is, it’s too good to be true, we won the apocalypse lottery, but…”, you felt his eyes drilling into you, “I don’t know, it would have been cooler to find a place just for ourselves, you know?”, you asked, “it’s gonna be hard to start dancing to someone else's tune… I feel like we were a pack of wild wolves and now… we get to play with the show poodles”, he chuckled

“Yeah I see what you mean”

“Out there yeah it’s wild, but it can also be freeing”, you continued, “and now we suddenly have to remember we have rules, and we have to be polite, have manners, and we have to ask for things that we need or want…”, he hummed, “and we need to talk about fucking pasta makers”, you continued, “its surreal”

“Are you gonna try?”, he asked, looking at you

“Of course I will, I belong with you, with my family”, you said, convinced, “and if you think we can make it work, we will”, he hummed, pleased, put a reassuring hand on your shoulder and then walked away from you.

You just sat there, looking down the street of Alexandria

“Cockblocker”, you whispered into the night air, and then you just giggled.

Post chapter notes: So the cat's out of the bag! Rick told her why he is like that with reader, we, are Rick's "canary", so, he needs to keep us alive so he can be too, or something like that jaja

taglist! @crazyunsexycool

#misguidedcats #daryl dixon fanfic #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl dixon the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon #daryl fanfiction #twd daryl #daryl x reader #twd daryl dixon #daryl twd #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl imagines #daryl dixon imagine

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1863-project · 7 months

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For the ask game: common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about?

[ask meme]

8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

I...actually get frustrated with the infantilization and/or demonization of characters that could be read as autistic, because it happens so often and there's such a lack of self-awareness when people do it. If one person headcanons it, a bunch of other people pile on, and before you know it, your character is being treated like someone else entirely - and unfairly so.

Let's take the most obvious example and the reason I don't engage with fandom much:

I am so tired of what fandom at large has done to Emmet since 2010. He's been infantilized since day one, often being portrayed as needing Ingo to take care of him or otherwise be his brother's keeper. He's also been turned into a violent, 'unhinged' stereotype since day one. Neither of these things are new. They've been happening since the release of the games. Neither of them have any basis in his canon characterization - a competent railroad employee who's a goofball but simultaneously responsible and always puts safety first.

I was hoping people had moved past that the way they moved past Blankshipping (though some people still do this, too, EW), but it seems like they haven't. Emmet is still either a helpless child or a serial killer waiting to happen to so many of these people, and as someone who actually felt so validated and seen the first time she discovered Ingo and Emmet, it hurts so deeply.

In real life, I'm also infantilized. I turn 35 this year and have a Master’s degree and work a big grown-up adult archivist job and live outside my parents' house, but because I'm neurodivergent and short, I'm frequently assumed to be and am treated like a teenager way more often than you'd reasonably expect. It's incredibly frustrating to constantly be treated like an innocent child because you don't meet neurotypical benchmarks of adulthood the way they want you to or because of the way you carry yourself or enjoy things. But at the same time, people shy away from me because I'm "too intense" about the things I care about.

Sound familiar?

Fandom was, when I was a younger girl, a place where neurodivergent people (especially autistic and ADHD people) were safe from the real world not understanding, accommodating, and accepting us. We generally kept things on the down-low, since it was another thing we'd be bullied for if people knew, but for us, it was a safe space. Then people realized fandom could be commodified, and once capitalism got a hold on fandom and made it mainstream, all our bullies were suddenly in our little space again, and...well, you probably know the rest. (Yeah, they brought their ableism with them.)

I'm not saying old fandom didn't have its problems. It had a LOT of problems. But it was, altogether, a safer space for neurodivergent people to find community and themselves than it is now. Now it feels more about producing things and moving on to the next big thing to produce more "content" to keep engagement instead of an actual community of nerdy, passionate people getting excited about each other's fanworks and chatting about their favorite things together.

And that reflects in how people treat autistic and autistic-coded characters now. Emmet is one example of many - look at Papyrus, or Entrapta, or numerous others.

This trend really, really fucking hurts, and I cannot stand how willingly fandom spaces just go along with it without thinking critically about it.

#replies #moonflower01 #fandom ableism #autism #actuallyautistic #Pokemon #Submas

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smytherines · 6 months

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I often wonder if I would feel differently about The Staircase Scene if I had seen SAF when it first came out in 2016. The first time I saw it was probably around October or November of 2023, and like... the context is different now.

Whatever we want to say about the personal story arcs of these characters (and I know I'm in a tiny minority because, for me, killing Owen does not constitute a satisfying close to Curt's arc, that's totally fine), there is the very real issue of the sociopolitical context that this scene takes place within- both in their time (1961) and in ours.

One very cool thing about SAF is that, in order to understand these characters better, a lot of younger queer folks end up learning about the Lavender Scare, about Executive Order 10450- which officially prohibited gay people from working for the US government- for the first time. That's an incredible, precious thing to me. Yay queer history! It's important!

The show itself never addresses the fact that both the US and UK governments had very public, very brutal campaigns equating homosexuality with communism with being a traitor to your country. But if you want to understand these characters, and especially write fanfiction, you're really incentivized to teach yourself some fundamentally important aspects of queer history.

In the 54 Below concert, before singing Not So Bad, Brian Rosenthal talks about how when they were developing the show they thought N@zis were more or less a thing of the past, that they're fully aware of how differently that song might be taken now after an escalation into a more open embrace of fascism in the US. And they're absolutely right about that.

But I think that's also perhaps an issue with the staircase scene, or at least it is for me. Obviously homophobia and transphobia were not "fixed" in 2016, they were still massive problems resulting in violence and discrimination and brutality. But institutionally, at least, you could look at the situation and point to some things that were gradually getting better.

In 2016 trans youth in my state were legally allowed to receive gender affirming care. In 2024, they are not. It's not that homophobia and transphobia went away and then came back, but there was a very real resurgence of the use of the media and of governmental power to inflict pain on queer & trans people and chase them out of public life- bathroom bans, gender affirming care bans, Don't Say Gay laws, trying to make drag illegal, equating queer and trans people with pedophilia. There has been a big cultural shift back towards the same kind of violent governmental moral panic that our beloved Curt & Owen would have lived under.

Whatever we want to say about these characters and this story (and there's tons of fascinating debate there), there is still the base of a gay man killing his ex-lover ostensibly to protect US foreign policy objectives. Killing the man he loves- or loved, at least- to protect the secret that he is gay. And that hits different for me now.

I watch that scene and it is heartbreaking on a personal level, but its also heartbreaking as a queer person who just wants to scream "your government will destroy you for being gay, you don't owe them shit!"

Owen tries to explain that the surveillance network is happening, that the future won't wait for Curt to catch up. Barb has been saying she's working on the same thing for the US government the entire show, but Curt just kept ignoring her. And I just want to say "Curt, honey, what do you think your government is going to do to you with that surveillance system? Do you think you're useful enough to keep around even though you have sex with men? Because I promise you they will not care."

It feels tragic to me because on some level it seems like Curt would actually be safer with another gay man having control of all the world's secrets than he will be if the government he has dedicated his life to gets their hands on that same technology.

And the thing is, having a tragic ending doesn't make the show bad. This show is great. This scene is spectacular. It makes you think, it makes you feel things, it does all the stuff that great art is supposed to do. Absolutely none of what I'm saying here is meant to denigrate the show as a musical or a story or even a queer story. I hope it doesn't come off as me saying "actually this show is bad," because I don't feel that way at all.

Clearly I live and breathe this show. That's why I spend all my time on here analyzing every scene, every frame, every facial expression. I love this show so much that I can't help but deconstruct it and look at all its component parts- including the sociopolitical context both now and in 1961. Because that context, despite never being explicitly mentioned, is important to our understanding of these characters.

I love these characters so much that it's actually pretty difficult for me to watch A2P7 anymore, because the staircase scene is so emotionally devastating to me that it's hard to try to swing back into that more comedic tone (even though Spy Dance is a certified bop).

I'm not even sure what my point is with all of this, other than to say that Spies Are Forever is a show that is great and fun and funny as written/performed, and becomes gradually more emotionally devastating when you rewatch it or when you understand the subtext of it. When you can engage with the themes of gender and sexuality, surveillance and technology, trauma and trust, and tease out even more satisfying theories around this show.

So yeah. It's a musical. It's about spies.

#spies are forever #tin can bros #curtwen #agent curt mega #owen carvour #saf #tcb #its about spies

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grison-in-space · 3 months

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Hey! Not trying to keep an annoying conversation going but I wanted to say I super appreciate your rebuttal on the ARA stuff, it was a really good clear summary. Particularly glad you brought up the "nothing with us without us" thing because that tendency in ARA circles to treat animal liberation as the Same Thing as liberating marginalised humans, who can speak for them-fucking-selves, is so upsetting and overtly dehumanising and it's really valuable to see that pointed out. It's also so connected to the move towards tankie or fascist rhetoric, because it so strongly relies on a paternalistic view of exploited people as passive recievers of harm and charity. Anyway sorry I'm a bit ill and rambly but I really appreciated the clarity of your takes is what I wanted to say.

No worries, the boundary I wanted to set was more "I'm not interested in repeating that I know full well what ARA ideology is and how that hooks into veganism, and I'm not a captive audience." I'm happy to have conversations, including with people I disagree with; I am not happy to have to repeatedly explain the same thing that has, again, been my consistent experience for nigh on twenty years of interacting with the community. This is not that, so. Thank you for the compliment.

The paternalism is such a huge factor. It reminds me very much of benevolent sexism (as opposed to hostile sexism), and rings all the same alarm bells. It really, really, really reminds me of the way Autism Speaks talks about autistic children and always has.

If animals don't have language (and they largely don't) and if they communicate in ways that might be non-intuituve to a human (and they often do), surely it's incumbent on us as humans to decode the meaning of the signals they are sending in order to understand how to ethically interact with one another. Communication, after all, can happen perfectly well in the absence of language. And yet.

There's also just so little understanding and interest in the reality of what the consequences of "freedom" for animals living in captivity actually are and can be; consider for example Flaco the eagle owl who escaped into NYC, as @why-animals-do-the-thing covered last year. For a species that is notoriously reliant on our social structures and learned skill sets to survive, you'd think we could handle this better. But I see an awful lot of animal rights activists who seem to think that successfully releasing animals into the wild—freeing them from human control—is just a matter of one heartwarming video where the animal steps out of the cage and immediately locks its new job as an independent forager into place. It isn't.

I am also just straight up not convinced that freedom in the sense of being on your own and able to do whatever you want is all that great. I have spent my entire life boldly going where no one has gone before. It kind of sucks, actually. On the other hand, as a neurodivergent person personally I do a lot of structuring my choices with an eye to Past Me pissing off Current Me because I know Future Me will appreciate it. I can devise my own structures to let me successfully do that ... or I can just outsource the enforcing to a third party with opinions, which is something I sometimes need to do badly enough to purchase and train an entire stupid dog about it, because asking other humans to do it is relationally expensive. Sometimes having external structures that keep me from doing dumb things when the impulses get me is good actually.

And I mean, I'm a biologist. I went a little viral here a few years ago for being silly and describing what acacia trees do to try to fight off their greatest enemy: the mighty but terrifying giraffe. I know how plants engage their agency as dramatically and persistently as any animal; they're just sessile, so they do everything without the ability to get up and go. They are, however, no less active or opinionated a participant in the ecological chaos of the world than any other kingdom. To say nothing of fungi! To live is, unless you have chloroplasts, to consume. And even an awful lot of chloroplast-bearing species engage in a little heterotrophy now and again.

So like. Why should I think that eating plants is necessarily any more ethical than eating animals? Why does ARA-driven veganism think that increasingly processed and modified diets that camouflage and hide our connection to our food as part of the natural world that, yes, we also live in? Why do we hide from the complexity and the small grief of life, the shadow of death that has to come for there to be any room to change? One day, I too will die, and something will consume me unless I choose instead to be consumed by fire itself. That's carbon, baby!

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theinfernalcollective · 2 months

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This is something I've had written for a while. Me being diagnosed with dissociative identity disorder. I am open about the diagnosis with close family, and finally my parents. At first I was very closed about it online.

Unfortunately I was diagnosed after it became a trend online with teenagers that have made a complete and total mockery of this disorder. I'm well aware I will get shit on for saying that teenagers on the internet fake having dissociative identity disorder, as well as other disorders. But its true and it happens all the time. Take a look at tiktok for example. TheWonderlandSystem, and tics n roses. Its prime content for teenagers faking DID. and its disgusting having to scroll through social media and see people making a complete mockery of a disorder. A disorder that has had such a large negative impact on my life, my friends and my relationship..

although DID is typically a more covert disorder unless your around people who have known you for years your not going to notice if someone with DID switches. I recently found out that my mum knew when I switched, which was a great shock to me. As I thought they barely noticed as I have distanced myself from then over the years. However other friends that aren't as close, and extended family? They won't know i have this disorder. They would never guess that I went through such traumas to have this disorder. When I first found out that councelors suspected I had DID I felt ashamed. Like I was some sort of freak, someone to be locked away and after researching and finding out the original name for DID was multiple personality disorder it only made it worse. I didn't want people to know me as the person with no actual identity. If I was born years earlier, I would have most likely be placed in an asylum.

The way DID has been portrayed online is not accurate to what it actually is. Online people act like when another part fronts its an entirely different person and that every part in the system is fully formed and communication is great. And truth is that's not how it is at all. Alot of teenagers on the internet and I think everyone knows what kind of teenager I'm talking about like to jump from disorder to disorder faking them for a trend. I know people back in school that faked having tourettes and Unfortunately I was dragged along into that. But I quickly left that group of friends because I knew it was wrong, and its where disorders like ADHD and tourettes started getting popular online. And I would watch them set up a camera and pretend to tic, stop the video and there would be nothing for the rest of the day. This was always in the middle of the day, in the middle of the school.

Another thing is you do not have DID if you weren't traumatized. It is a complex trauma based disorder. I get very heated over the TransDID people and endogenics. It absolutely sucks when you live with a disorder that you wish you didn't have because of how badly its affected your life becomes a mockery for the internet. Alot of people don't even understand what DID is because of the amount of misinformation that is spread around by edgy teenagers wanting to feel all special for faking something they don't have. Oh they have problems for sure but no. They do not have DID.

#did system #did #system #dissociative identity disorder #dissociative system #traumagenic system #did osdd #actually did #osdd #not endo safe #syspunk #systempunk #stop faking very real mental disorders #faking disorders is not cool #theinfernalsystem

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lewmagoo · 1 year

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a curse i cannot lift | rhett abbott

description: in which everything he holds dear is ripped from his grasp

warnings: 18+ only, werewolf au, pregnancy, allusions to sex, perry abbott assaulting people (idk how else to word that lol), murder, violence, blood, kidnapping, angst, werewolves are unfairly targeted in this world

pairing: werewolf!rhett abott x f!werewolf!reader

listen to the playlist here

notes: this is part of 'the wolf' series! you technically don't have to read the first part but it'll make more sense if you do. access the first part here. access the series masterlist here

dedication: to @lovinglyeternal, without you this series wouldn't have been born. also dedicated to @bro-ooke ; thanks for beta reading this for me!

From a young age, Rhett Abbott had been taught that there was no greater honor in life than to obtain a mate. In wolf culture, finding one’s mate was a fateful, sacred occurrence. It was the joining together of two souls as one entity.

And he had found that oneness when he found you. The moment you walked into his life, his entire world changed. His fierce loyalty had always been dedicated to his family, but when the two of you joined your bloodlines, his loyalties changed.

It wasn’t that he’d turned his back on his family. Far from it, in fact. But they no longer came first. It was you that came first, above all others. Together, you were responsible for loving and protecting each other. You had made that pledge to one another on your wedding day, a blood oath that was unbreakable and would withstand the test of time.

Rhett had heard stories of the sacrifices mates were willing to make just to protect one another. But he’d never fully understood the magnitude of such a thing until he had a mate of his own. Sometimes it scared him, and made him feel a little wild, knowing the lengths he would go to to protect you.

But he wasn’t alone, because you were just as territorial over him as he was of you. You had one another’s backs, and swore to each other that you would keep the other safe. However, he would one day find himself unable to fulfill his part of that promise to you, all because of the foolish actions of one man. And those actions would result in Rhett losing you.

But hell hath no fury like a wolf whose mate is stolen from him. And when Rhett Abbott’s fury was unleashed, no one would walk away unscathed.

Neither of you could have ever imagined your lives would be turned upside down. You had only just begun your mateship together. You had made a home for yourselves on Abbott land - an old barn at the edge of the property that Rhett had converted into a living space for the two of you and the family you would soon create together.

Life together was sweeter than you ever could have imagined. From the moment you met him, you felt an all-consuming sense of peace, knowing this was who you were meant to spend the rest of your life with. He was the one that had been formed for you by the cosmos before either of you was even born. A collection of burning, blinding, brilliant stars all forged together into one beautiful man with ocean-blue eyes.

But, even for mated werewolves, life still had its difficulties. One’s hardships didn’t miraculously disappear once one found their mate. In fact, the joining together of both of your packs posed its fair share of brand-new issues.

Particularly, the issue of keeping secrets.

The Abbott family was very secretive. There were things weaved through the fabric of their family history that Royal had done his best to bury. Chief of those secrets was the fact that the land they lived upon was not their own.

Historically, werewolves were not treated like high-class individuals. In fact, they were often treated like the scum of the earth. The bottom of the barrel. Humans were afraid of their wild tendencies, and this resulted in irrational, widespread fear.

The wolf community had fought long and hard to obtain equal rights, and after a seemingly never-ending battle, they had finally made some headway. Laws had been put in place, protecting werewolves and their families from discrimination and inhumane treatment.

Laws had also been put in place against hunting werewolves. These laws had been passed in all fifty states before you or Rhett were even born. The werewolf hunting business had once been very successful, but these days, hunters were almost non-existent. Hunting and killing werewolves was now considered a federal crime.

You were of the belief that hunting for sport had been eradicated. The elders in your pack had lived through the days of the hunters, and had seen the laws passed forbidding hunting. They all believed the worst of it was behind them.

But little did you, or your pack, know that there was a family of hunters right in the very town you were living in. A prestigious family at that, one whose money was tainted by the blood of hundreds of innocent wolves.

The Tillerson family had been hunting for centuries. The only reason they decided to stop was all thanks to a little truce made with Royal Abbott.

Long before either of his boys was born, Royal had struck up a deal with Wayne and Patricia Tillerson. The Abbotts were to remain on a specified plot of land. As long as they held up their end of the bargain, the Tillersons would not harm a single hair on any of their heads. But if the Abbotts or their future offspring tried to move to unapproved plots of land, they were fair game.

The reason for this was that they didn’t want werewolves sullying the reputation of Wabang. It was a beautiful town with rich land and even richer oil wells. Werewolves would only drive away tourists and potential buyers that might come through seeking land and agricultural gain.

So, Royal and his wife settled on that specified plot of land, and it became known as the Northeast Wyoming Wolf Reservation. After that, all was seemingly fine and dandy for decades. until your pack came along.

Your pack originally left your hometown because tensions were rising with a neighboring pack. Your family had every right to live there, but the other pack harbored animosity against all of you, and instead of enduring an all-out war, your family, namely your alpha, decided it best to move elsewhere for the safety and well-being of the pack.

So, you found yourselves in Wabang, Wyoming. You joined forces with the Abbott pack, and in a twist of wonderful fate, you met Rhett, the son of Royal, which proved to you that you were always meant to come here, because in any lifetime, in any universe, you would always find him.

Royal was the alpha of the Northeast Wyoming Pack, which wasn’t much to speak of, as it was only him and his family. Royal was old and tired. When your pack came along, and it became clear that you and Rhett were to be mates, Royal willingly gave up his alpha status, because there could only be one alpha over a pack.

He allowed your uncle, Malakai, who was already the alpha of your own pack, to take leadership of the now-conjoined pack. Royal was willing to wash his hands of all of it, and it struck you as odd at first. What wolf willingly gave up their statues like that? But It would all make sense when you eventually learned of his motives. He didn’t want to be the one held responsible if anything happened to the pack. He knew if the Tillersons ever targeted the pack, the responsibility of protecting them would no longer fall upon himself. It would fall upon Malakai. And any wolf who was incapable of protecting their pack would face consequences from the National Werewolf League.

But there was, of course, the fact that Royal hadn’t been honest with your family from the beginning. He had welcomed you into the reservation, allowing you to settle there and make homes for yourselves. He had given over his alpha status. For all intents and purposes, he seemed genuinely happy to welcome your ragtag group into the fold. But he never bothered to warn you that if any of you decided to live elsewhere, outside of the reservation, you might just encounter some hunters.

Rhett hated that his father refused to tell the truth. Royal had even made his family swear they wouldn’t say anything. His reasoning was that it might cause a full-blown massacre if word got back to the Tillersons that the wolves were trying to rebel against the guidelines put in place.

While other state governments recognized werewolf hunting as illegal, the Tillersons had a particularly close relationship with the governor of Wyoming, and the leader of the state had essentially promised that he would look the other way if the wolves violated this agreement and ended up dead. He was just as money hungry as the Tillersons, and he harbored a hatred for werewolves. He was in agreement that the wolves were bad for business and was perfectly content to get rid of them if it meant protecting the state.

While Rhett understood his father’s fear, he believed it was wrong and dangerous not to tell your pack the truth. So, in the early days of your marriage, he finally decided that he could no longer sit on this secret and potentially allow it to put a rift in your marriage, or result in your family being harmed. He wanted to reveal everything to you.

So, one night, he called for a family meeting with just your pack. He had already revealed the truth to you privately, and together, you had agreed that it was only fair to inform the others. So he stood before your family that night and explained to them that they were not as safe as they thought they were.

It took guts for Rhett to go against his father like that. In your eyes, by putting the good of the pack before everything else, he displayed true alpha qualities, and something in you made you believe that someday in the future, he had what it took to take on the role as the new alpha of your pack.

But until then, there were things that needed to be sorted through. Such as the fact that there were hunters in your midst. Your family took the news better than you were expecting, but they were, of course, angry about being lied to.

“But hunting is illegal. How the hell are there even still hunters around?” One of your cousins, Jace, asked.

Rhett sighed. “The Wyoming government doesn’t give a shit about us. The Tillersons have the governor by the balls, he’ll look the other way if wolves end up dead.”

“We could report it to the League.”

“Y’ could,” Rhett replied, “I don’t know how much good it’ll do ya. They’d need proof that the Tillersons were actively hunting wolves. And so far, they aren’t. They’ve kept their noses clean for years. Without proof, the League won’t do anythin’.”

Finally, Malakai, the alpha, spoke up. “This is why your dad gave up his alpha status and let me keep mine when we joined packs, isn’t it? So none of the responsibility would fall on him.”

Rhett grimaced, nodding slowly. “I think so. But you’ll have to talk to him about that. Like I said, he didn’t want me t’ tell any of you. He was tryin’ to avoid a war with the Tillersons. If we start violatin’ our agreement with them, they might get trigger-happy.”

A murmur went through the pack. They didn’t like this situation, but at the moment, there was nothing that could be done. As long as everyone followed the contract put in place, there would be no trouble. And for the time being, it seemed as if nobody had a choice in the matter. Until another course of action could be figured out, things would remain exactly the way they were.

Rhett felt awful to have to break such news to the family. But in the end, you quietly assured him that he’d done the right thing. “I know going against your dad wasn’t easy. But I’m proud of you for making the right decision.”

“How come I still feel lousy about it?” He grumbled.

“It’ll pass,” you assured him.

And it did.

After that moment of honesty, his relationship with your family deepened. They all respected him for what he’d done. He felt loved and accepted in a way he never had before. He found a family that loved him for him. Not for what he could do for them. Not under any conditions. They just loved him. And he could hardly fathom why, but he was grateful.

But above all else, the purest of loves he’d ever felt was your love. Undying, withstanding the rest of time. You adored him, you would lay down your life for him, and he, you. Sometimes the realization stole the very breath from his lungs. Being with you just felt right. He was no longer held down by the binding loyalty he had to his own family. While he still remained loyal to them, you came first, before anyone else.

He made a pledge in his heart, determining that when the two of you had children of your own, he would never put them through what he’d had to endure as a child. A ‘tough love’ father who thought men displaying emotion was weak, and a mother who ultimately loved her children, but her loyalty to her husband overshadowed them, and made them feel like they were not as important.

Rhett would love his child unconditionally and allow them to express their emotions without fear of judgment or consequence. He would be gentle and forgiving and kind, because children deserved such mercies.

As fate would have it, he would one day receive that opportunity.

After your marriage, it didn’t take long for you to fall pregnant. With the way you went at it together during your first heat, there was no doubt in your mind that it would result in conceiving a child. And sure enough, a little while after that initial heat cycle, it happened.

Funnily enough, it was Rhett who figured it out before you even came to the conclusion yourself. And it was all because your scent had changed.

Between werewolves, one’s mate was attracted to them by scent. A mate’s scent was unique and intoxicating to the other. Neither of you would ever forget the first time you caught the eachother’s scent, when you initially met. It was overwhelming and all-consuming.

But now, something was different.

Your scent had changed. That intoxicating, spicy, sweet scent you emitted, for his senses only, had changed into something lighter. Sweeter. Almost like cotton candy. It caught his attention one morning as you were getting ready for the day.

“Stop,” he spoke, his tone low and even. He’d caught you by the arm, his large hand gentle against you.

You smiled curiously as he tugged you closer. “What?” You asked, a breathless giggle on your lips at his behavior.

“Y’ smell different.” He buried his nose against the side of your neck and inhaled deeply. It tickled, but you remained still, watching curiously as he trailed his nose lower, intent on finding the source. He froze for a moment, only to quickly drop to his knees before you. There, he nuzzled your abdomen, breathing in again.

A look of tender amazement softened his features, and he gasped, lifting his hand to press over your tummy. Then his gaze flickered up to meet your own. There were tears in those bright eyes. “You’re carryin’ my pup,” he whispered.

Your own eyes widened, and you lifted your hand, covering your mouth in surprise. It wasn’t entirely unexpected, because you had been hoping this would happen. But you were still overcome with wonderful, all-encompassing elation.

You laughed for joy, kneeling on the floor with Rhett and throwing your arms around his neck. “A baby! We’re having a baby!” You cried happily.

But he leaned back, a strange sense of wonder illuminating his features. The corners of his mouth tugged upwards into a sweet smile. “We’re havin’ a daughter,” he whispered in response, throat tight as tears glimmered in his eyes.

You stared at him in amazement. “H-how…?”

“Your scent. When Rebecca was pregnant with Amy she had that same kinda scent. Like pink cotton candy. Or maybe bubble gum. You smell the same.”

That revelation pulled a musical laugh from you, and you threw your arms around your husband again, bubbling with an excitement that warmed your belly like fizzy champagne.

“

Laughing with you, Rhett leaned back, nuzzling his nose against your own before he kissed you fervently. You melted into him, bodies fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle.

“I knew it wouldn’t be long before I put a pup inside ya,” he murmured against your lips, mouth hot on yours.

You smiled into the kiss. “I knew it, too.”

He pulled back to fully admire you. “My beautiful mate,” he murmured in adoration, splaying his palm over your abdomen. “Mother of my child.”

He spoke with such reverence, but beneath it was a possessive air that made you shiver. You were his. He was yours. Your hearts belonged to each other, intertwined by the Fates themselves.

“Love you,” you sighed, eyes fluttering shut as you let yourself lean into his warm touch.

“I love you too, little wolf.”

You relished in that quiet, intimate moment together, overjoyed that you were finally starting your own family.

There were a few select moments in your lifetime that you would consider the best moments of your entire life. Discovering that Rhett was your mate was one of them. Your marriage to him was another. And finally, learning you were expecting a baby was the cherry on top.

You couldn’t hide your happiness if you tried. As mates, it was your shared dream to further your bloodline. It was considered the highest honor in werewolf culture. You were teeming with excitement, eager to reveal the news to the rest of the pack.

It wasn’t easy to hide, as it was. They would be able to sniff it out no matter how much you tried to hide it. So you didn’t bother hiding it at all. That very day, you shared the news with your families, receiving an emphatic “I knew it!” From your mother, and an excited “I can’t wait to have a baby cousin to play with!” From Rhett’s niece Amy.

That night, a grand celebration followed, and you swore that you didn’t stop smiling once . Oh, how your life had changed. After you announced it to your loved ones, you were happily thrust into the process of making preparations to welcome your little one into the world.

This, of course, included visits to your pack doctor, Rose Tenpenny. You had known Rose your entire life. She was a skilled pack healer and midwife who subscribed to ancient remedies and medicines, the knowledge of which had been passed down to her from her mother, and her mother’s mother before her. There was no one else you’d rather have look after your and your baby’s health than her.

You were on cloud nine as baby preparations followed. The women of the pack got together to make a memory quilt for your baby. All the men set to work building furniture for the nursery. And, best of all, Rhett took it upon himself to build a cradle for the babe. He was skilled with his hands, and he considered it the greatest honor to build this little bed for your child. He put so much love into the creation of that bed, and it touched your heart.

Everything seemed so perfect. Too good to be true. It felt as if nothing could ever take this joy away from you. That is, until it all came crashing down like a mountain avalanche.

Ever since your union with Rhett, you had had a rocky relationship with his brother, Perry. Rhett himself had a complicated past with the man, and since your marriage, he had distanced himself from his brother. He didn’t like the way Perry behaved toward you. Both of you knew it was because Perry harbored jealousy against Rhett.

He was jealous of what you had. Jealous that his little brother had a mate and he didn’t. But the reason Perry didn’t have a mate was because of his own stupidity. He had tried to force it to happen on his own rather than waiting for fate. He fell for a girl named Rebecca. She wasn’t his mate, but he insisted she was. Claimed everyone else didn’t know what they were talking about.

Perry had somehow manipulated Rebecca into believing they were mates. Or, at least, from what Rhett could see, she just went along with it to keep Perry happy. If she wanted to leave, the intention was dashed when she fell pregnant with his child.

She made the decision to stick it out and see if a baby would change Perry’s demeanor. But it didn’t. In fact, it seemed that he only got worse after Amy was born. Rebecca put up with it for the first seven years of Amy’s life, and finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. She disappeared into the night, seemingly without a trace.

Perry insisted something had happened. That she would never leave of her own free will. Someone had to have taken her. Rhett, however, believed that she did leave on her own.

You knew things had to be bad for her to leave her own child behind. That went against every instinct of a mother wolf. It made you wonder if there was more to the story. If she’d left with the intention of coming back for her child, but she had met an untimely demise in the process. You supposed you would never receive an answer to that question.

Perry delusionally claimed that he could still feel her out there. Between mates, it was a natural occurrence to be able to feel the other’s presence. And many times, when one was in danger, the other could sense it. Perry insisted he had this with Rebecca, but you knew he didn’t. He had no idea where she was because she wasn’t his to begin with.

In the meantime, his jealousy against his brother only continued to fester. Their relationship had already been strained as it was, but since Rhett had brought you into the picture, it was even worse. The only good thing to come out of it was your relationship with young Amy.

She was sweet as pie and even at her age, she knew the way her father behaved was wrong. It broke your heart that she had to deal with such things, but she didn’t let it slow her down, or change the way she felt about you and Uncle Rhett.

Perry attempted to remain civil while Amy was around, but there were times when he just couldn’t help but run his mouth and get himself in trouble. It had happened on numerous occasions, to the point where Rhett didn’t like bringing you around him

And after you found out you were expecting, your mate grew all the more protective of you. This primal need to keep you safe burned in his belly, and he wouldn’t allow anyone to harm or disrespect you.

But no matter how protective of you he became, Rhett always had full control over his wolf at all times. He could shift at will, and even when he was intensely angry or upset, he could still control the shift and keep himself from going off the rails. But Perry did not have that same control, and because of this, Rhett was always on guard when he was present around you.

His older brother was notorious for losing his temper. Rhett had seen it time and time again. Perry had always been like this. Even as a young boy.

When werewolf pups are born, they are born entirely human, and do not yet possess the ability to shift. That ability usually comes at around ten years of age.

And Perry gained that ability like clockwork on his tenth birthday. Teaching him how to control the shift was a beast in and of itself for Royal and Cecilia. They struggled like hell to help him learn how to shift at will rather than involuntarily.

Around that time, Rhett was still very small. It proved incredibly difficult to raise a little one and train a brand-new wolf. Some things fell by the wayside. Rhett did not receive the love and attention he so desperately needed during that moment in time. It was hard for him to get acclimated as he grew older.

But he saw the way Perry was, how wild his wolf was, and he decided that when his own wolf came in, he would be nothing like his brother. He would learn control.

And he did. Royal and Cecilia hoped Rhett’s ability would rub off on Perry. But, unfortunately, it did not. Instead, Perry got into trouble, and Rhett was always lumped in because he followed his brother around everywhere.

But the worst moment of all was the day Perry lost control at school.

There had always been high tensions between the Tillersons and the Abbott brothers. The three boys had an innate hatred of wolves, a prejudice ingrained within them thanks to their parents. Luke and Billy weren’t particularly aggressive toward Perry and Rhett. But Trevor? He and Perry especially hated each other.

Trevor was known for mouthing off. He’d mouth off at his parents, at his teachers, at innocent passersby in the school hallways. He was a loose canon, and it was only a matter of time before he went off on the wrong person.

Trevor foolishly decided he was going to mess with Perry that day. He caught him in the empty hallway as Perry and Rhett were leaving school. He started jeering Perry, daring him to “go werewolf” on him. Rhett, who was only twelve at the time, and significantly younger and smaller than Trevor and Perry, tried his best to pull Perry away.

But it was no use. The situation escalated until Perry was lunging, and suddenly, there was screaming, and Trevor was on the floor, clutching at his throat as blood poured from a slash wound caused by Perry’s claws.

“What did you do?!” Luke shouted as he knelt beside his wounded big brother. “You’re dead, Abbott! You hear me?! Dead!”

A teacher heard the commotion and came out, only to realize in horror what had happened. 911 was called, as were the Abbott and Tillerson parents. Perry was kept locked in a classroom, alone, until further help could arrive.

In the end, Trevor’s wound was only superficial, and he would go on to make a full recovery. However, he would walk away with a permanent scar on his neck. Four claw marks, acting as a permanent reminder that he’d been attacked by a wolf.

The offense should have garnered a heavier punishment. Patricia Tillerson was out for blood. She wanted to kill Perry for what he’d done to her son. But Wayne had a different approach. As money hungry as he was, he was fine to settle on a payment for what had happened.

Royal paid the Tillersons a hefty sum of money, which nearly drove his own family into financial ruin. They were already struggling to stay afloat as it was, and giving away that big of a sum of money set them back severely. But if he paid the sum, the hunters would leave the Abbotts alone.

So he gave them the money, and after that, the Tillerson boys were enrolled in a private school the next town over, and the instance was swept under the rug.

Angry over how it was handled, and the lack of justice for her son’s pain, Patricia threatened to leave Wayne. He told her to go, but his condition was that she couldn’t take her boys with her. He refused to let his sons go, and he threatened blackmail if she went ahead and took them anyway. So she left, alone and angry, determining that one day, she would gain the retribution she sought.

It took many years, but that opportunity finally presented itself when Wayne Tillerson dropped dead.

You’d heard about his death. The whole town had. But you didn’t care in the least. As far as you were concerned, one less werewolf hunter in the world, the better. But that still left three of his sons.

When Wayne was alive, he refused to let anyone but his lawyer and his accountant read any legal or financial papers. He didn’t let his sons get involved. But when his health started failing him, it became necessary for the boys to step in. As the eldest, Trevor took that mantle upon himself.

But it wasn’t until his father died that he really started doing a deep dive into the seemingly endless paperwork. Financial statements, property deeds, the whole nine. For Trevor, it was the property deeds that caught his attention. Specifically the deed for the land on which the Abbotts lived.

He noticed an interesting little tidbit. It appeared that the property line had been mistakenly marked, and needed to be moved back a significant distance. But it just so happened that that specific plot of land was where you and Rhett lived.

Driven by greed, Trevor took the deed to the family lawyer, insistent upon getting the go-ahead to deliver the news himself. It wasn’t difficult, and soon, he was headed right for the reservation, smug as could be, ready to deliver the blow to your family.

However, when he came lumbering up to your house and knocked loudly on the door, he received no answer. “Abbott!” He shouted, banging a little louder. But the house was empty. You and Rhett had left earlier that morning so you could go in for your monthly prenatal checkup with the pack doctor. You were both blissfully unaware that your lives were about to be turned upside down.

Back at your house, Trevor was tempted to shove the legal paper he held in his hand in your mailbox, but his heart was set on delivering it in person. However, he saw the next best person to deliver it to when he caught a glimpse of Perry just down the way, saddling up his horse.

A smirk tugged at the eldest Tillerson’s mouth. He brushed his fingers over the claw marks that scarred his neck. Maybe this could be his way of getting back at Perry for what he’d done to him all those years ago.

So he marched right toward the stables, and when Perry saw him coming, he visibly tensed. He hadn’t seen Trevor in a long time. As volatile as Perry was, even he himself had no desire to get into it with the man. He knew he’d end up killing him if given the chance, so he kept his distance.

Now, however, Trevor was coming right at him, and there was no way of keeping his distance any longer.

“Hey, Abbott!” He called.

Perry sighed. “What?”

“Any idea where that brother a’ yours is?”

Perry shrugged as he tightened the cinch on the saddle. “Fuck if I know,” he mumbled.

“Well, I have a little somethin’ for him.”

“Huh, guess you’ll have t’ wait ‘til he gets back.”

“I figured I’d just give it to you instead, an’ you can pass the word along.”

Perry rolled his eyes, stepping back toward the stable when he realized he’d set his hat down inside. “I ain’t your messenger, Trevor. Just leave it at his doorstep or somethin’.”

“Thing is, I really wanted to deliver it in person,” Trevor continued, following Perry into the stable. “I want you to read it, too.”

Again, the Abbott brother rolled his eyes, whirling around to snatch the paper from Trevor. “Fine! I’ll give it to ‘im, if that’ll get you off our fuckin’ property.”

At those words, Trevor’s smirk turned into a wicked grin. “Actually, it ain’t your property.”

That caught Perry’s attention. “What?”

“Read it.”

With furrowed brow, Perry quickly unfolded the paper and his eyes skimmed over its contents. Heat flared in his chest. “This is fuckin’ bullshit.”

“You wish. It’s legit. Either you all move that fence of yours back, or you’ll get fined by the state. And you and I both know you ain’t got the money to pay that fine, since your daddy gave it all away to get us to keep our mouths shut about what you did to me when we were kids.”

That struck a chord. The heat in Perry’s chest grew hotter. “You’re just lucky it wasn’t worse,” he grumbled.

Trevor scoffed. “So you’re saying I should be thankin’ you for not ripping out my throat?” He laughed heartily, though it was fake. “Fuck you, Abbott.” His first mistake was reaching out to shove at Perry.

The wolf growled, his eyes flashing yellow. “Get your goddamn hands off me.”

“What are y’gonna do, hm? Kill me? Maim me?”

Perry got in his face. His body trembled as he fought to control his shift. But he had no control, because he’d never learned it. “You got five seconds to get the fuck outta here.”

But Trevor wasn’t afraid. He stood chest to chest, hunter to wolf. “Do it. I dare you. Then they’ll come lookin’ for me, and when they find out you killed me it’s over for you wolves. Is that what you want? To destroy all that civil rights shit your kind fought for?”

Perry seemed to consider his words, and Trevor nodded in satisfaction. “That’s what I thought. You don’t have the balls.” And then, as he was prone to do, he had to add one last blow to his monologue. “Bet that’s why your wife left you. She realized you were a spineless fuckin’ co-”

He never did finish those words. In mere seconds, Perry was lunging, growling, out of control. And then, Trevor was on the hay-scattered floor, bleeding out, his throat slashed like it had been so many years ago. Except, this time, he wasn’t walking away alive.

Perry stood over his body, his chest heaving, growling like a wild animal. The paper he’d been holding had fluttered to the floor, and the breeze blew it into a corner to be forgotten.

Just like that, Trevor Tillerson was dead, and as the blinding red rage cleared from Perry’s vision, he realized what he’d done. He stood there, staring at the blood on his hands, and the blood on the floor, and he felt as if he was frozen in place, his feet fastened to the floor with concrete.

What should he do? He’d just killed a goddamn human. If news got out about this, it would be very, very bad, not just for the Abbott pack, but for the entire werewolf community. But Perry was very quickly beginning to panic, unsure of how to fix the egregious crime he had just committed.

So he did the only thing he knew how. He scrambled out of that barn, climbed onto the back of his horse, and set off at a gallop to his father’s house just down the way. It was nearly lunchtime, so he knew that Royal would likely be home, in the kitchen, waiting as Cecilia prepared his lunch for him.

The kitchen was quiet, save for the sound of Cecilia humming as she readied the food. Until, suddenly, Perry came bursting through the door like a bat out of hell. She dropped the knife she was holding. “Good Lord, Perry!” She exclaimed.

Royal looked up, brows raised. And that’s when he saw the blood. Cecilia also noticed, and she put a hand to her mouth. “What on earth happened?!”

Perry looked at Royal, entirely ignoring his mother. “Dad, I need help.”

Just by looking at his son, Royal seemed to know what ‘help’ entailed. He stood from his seat, already moving to grab his hat from the peg near the door.

“Royal, what-”

“I’ll be back soon, save me a plate,” he simply said as he followed his son out the door.

Cecilia fought the urge to chase after them. She wasn’t stupid. She knew what that blood meant. And she’d picked up on a specific scent when Perry came in. A scent she knew, but was too afraid to admit it. The less she knew, the better. But she had a feeling she was going to find out what had happened sooner than later.

Outside, Royal had a plan. “C’mere,” he said to his son, motioning him toward the garden hose. “First of all you need to wash this shit off so you don’t get it everywhere.”

Perry proceeded to scrub the blood from his hands, and then Royal led him to the truck. “You mind tellin’ me what the fuck happened?” He asked, voice low.

Perry sighed, lowering his head. “Trevor Tillerson came snoopin’ around.”

“Yeah, I know that, I can fuckin’ smell him on you. How did it end with you covered in his goddamn blood?!”

So, Perry recounted what had happened. Every last detail. And as he spoke, Royal paced back and forth, his boots kicking up gravel as he did so. Once his son finished, he stopped, turning to look at him. “Alright then. Let’s fix this. Before your brother gets back. The less people are involved in this, the better.”

“You…you ain’t callin’ the sheriff?” Perry asked in disbelief.

“I call the sheriff, not only do you go to jail, but it puts this whole fuckin’ pack in danger. I ain’t gonna let a group of humans run us outta our home. So we’re takin’ care of this ourselves.” He jabbed his thumb toward Perry’s horse. “Go take the tack off that horse and toss it in the back of the truck. You probably got blood all over it and that’s just gonna act as evidence if anyone comes snoopin’ around here.”

And so, the two Abbott men set about covering up the crime. They placed Trevor’s body in the back of the truck, they scrubbed the stables clean, and then, Royal instructed Perry to get into Trevor’s truck and follow after him. Royal drove his own truck and Perry followed him deep into the west pasture and as far up into the woods that the vehicles would allow them to. Then they carried Trevor the rest of the way until they came upon a good spot to bury him.

All of this took quite some time, and by the time the body was in the ground, Royal breathlessly turned to Perry. “Drive the truck up to Lover’s Lake and let it sink.”

And so, Perry did what he was told.

Just like that, the crime was covered up. Trevor Tillerson was six feet under, and the only two people in the world who knew about it were Royal and Perry. But it wouldn’t stay that way for long.

In the meantime, you and Rhett were just arriving home from your midwife appointment, blissfully unaware of what had just taken place. You were purely, incandescently happy. Doctor Tenpenny had given you a gleaming bill of health. The tiny babe within you was growing just as she should.

You were still quite early on, so you hadn’t begun to show yet. But that didn’t stop Rhett from resting his large hand against your belly from where he sat beside you in the rickety old GMC Sierra he drove. He was so very excited to be a father. The excitement sparkled in his eyes and you swore that blue had gotten impossibly brighter.

“I am so fuckin’ in love with you, little wolf,” he murmured once he’d thrown the truck into park. He leaned across the seat to kiss you sweetly.

You smiled against his mouth before you replied. “I’m so fuckin’ in love with you too.”

“M’ sweet wife.” His thumb ran circles over your abdomen. “Can’t wait to see you all round with my pup.”

You hummed, eyes fluttering shut as you relished in his warm touch. “Soon,” you assured him.

“I know. It’ll happen quicker than we can blink. Then we’ll be holdin’ our brand new baby girl.”

You kissed him again, unable to voice your feelings, because the words got caught in your throat. But that was okay, because no other words were needed.

Soon, Rhett slipped away and rounded the truck to open your door for you, which you gratefully accepted. “I was thinkin’,” he said, his arm slung around you as you walked up to the house. “Maybe I’d stop in town and grab us some lunch? I gotta bring the horses in from pasture first but after that I’ll get goin’.”

“Oh, would you?! I’ve been craving fries from Lucinda’s!” You exclaimed.

He smirked. “I know. As if you didn’t give me enough hints by sayin’ ‘I could really go for some fries!’ all mornin’,” he teased.

“Sorry, I’m just starving,” you said with a laugh.

“I’ll get ya your fries,” he assured you, “an’ a milkshake, too.”

Happily, you leaned in to kiss his cheek. “You’re the best.”

“I know,” he said right back with a knowing glint in his eyes.

You pushed at his chest as you shook your head at him. “Go tend to the horses, wolf boy.”

He stole another kiss from you, playfully swatting at your ass before he finally slipped away, allowing you to head back inside, your heart warm as you did so.

He headed over to the stables, and when the grazing horses saw him they immediately perked up. Particularly his mare, Esmeralda. She trotted up to the fence, letting out an excited whinny.

“Hey t’ you too, girl,” he said, reaching out to scratch her chin, her favorite place to receive pets. She eagerly searched his flannel pocket for treats, but came up with nothing. “Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. Got tied up takin’ mama to the doc. I’ll bring ya somethin’ next time.” He kissed her muzzle, and then he pulled back to saunter over to the stable so he could pull the doors open.

On his way up the lane, he caught sight of Perry approaching on horseback. But he noticed something a little off. The horse wasn’t saddled, nor was he wearing a bridle.

“The fuck you ridin’ bareback for?” Rhett asked with a slight laugh, raising a brow at his brother as he got closer.

“Cause I felt like it,” Perry mumbled as he slowed the horse and finally slid to the ground, boots kicking up gravel.

“I’ve never seen you ride without a saddle in my life,” Rhett continued.

“There’s a first time for everythin’,” Perry dismissed.

Rhett eyed him. He seemed a little…off. Not like himself. “Per, you feelin’ alright?”

“‘m fine,” he snapped.

Rhett sighed, shaking his head at his brother’s antics. He wasn’t sure what had gotten up his craw, but he decided it best not to ask questions.

Until he stepped into the stable as Perry led his horse to his stall. A strange scent hit Rhett as soon as he crossed the threshold. Strong and chemical, like bleach. But there was something else, something underlying. He breathed in deep, his face comforting in confusion.

“You smell that?” He called to Perry.

His first clue as to something being wrong should’ve been that Perry froze. “I don’t smell anythin’,” he said as he opened the stall door.

“Bullshit, it’s strong as hell,” Rhett countered. He stepped further into the building and breathed in. “I smell blood.”

Perry didn’t say a word, but just from his posture, Rhett knew he was lying. He never was good at hiding his guilt. As soon as he pulled away from the stall and moved to leave the stable, Rhett stepped into his path, blocking him.

“Why the fuck does it smell like blood and bleach in my stable?” He demanded, voice low, gaze hard.

Perry’s wide, brown eyes flickered away, looking everywhere but his brother’s face. He didn’t say a word, and it sent a flash of sizzling anger through Rhett, like a bolt of lightning. “Perry!” He barked.

“Get outta my way, Rhett.”

“No! What did you do, huh?! Hurt one of my horses?!” Rhett wouldn’t stand for harm to come to any of his animals. He’d beat Perry to a pulp if he found out he’d hurt one.

“I didn’t touch y’re fuckin horses!” Perry snapped.

Rhett could hear how fast Perry’s heart was beating, pounding erratically against his rib cage. He was lying. “If it ain’t horse blood, then whose is it?”

A beat of hesitation. Then another. And soon, it became clear that Perry wasn’t going to say a word. Rhett growled angrily and finally stepped aside. “Get the fuck out.”

And he did. Perry hightailed it out of that stable, guilt weight at his shoulders. Rhett was going to get to the bottom of this one way or another. But for now, he had a group of restless horses to tend to.

With a deep sigh, he rolled his head to loosen the tension in his neck, and then proceeded to get the horses gathered and into the stable. Just to be safe, he checked each one over for any potential injuries. But they were all unharmed, as he’d expected.

Rhett wasn’t stupid. He knew that the scent he’d caught wasn’t horse. It was human. This was someone he knew, because he recognized the underlying scent. But he didn’t want to say it out loud, didn’t want to admit who it was because then that would mean… surely his brother hadn’t killed someone, right? Perry was volatile at times but he’d never killed anyone. However, Rhett knew perfectly well what the man was capable of.

He’d seen him lose his temper. He’d seen the way Perry couldn’t control his wolf. He was capable of killing. He was one step closer to going rogue and that thought made Rhett’s stomach turn.

He hoped it wouldn’t come to that point.

In the meantime, there were other things to tend to. Rhett decided he didn’t want to go snooping. He was afraid he would find something that he wished he never knew. So, he shook the thoughts out of his head and proceeded to get the horses situated.

A little while later, he was finally making his way back to the truck, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. A shower sounded appealing, but his first order of business was, of course, picking up lunch for you.

It was a thirty-minute drive into town, so by the time he returned, it had been over an hour that he’d been gone. In that time he’d tried to push the incident with Perry out of his mind. He knew that you would notice something was wrong, and he didn’t want to potentially drag you into whatever mess his brother had just made. You were meant to be enjoying this time as you prepared to welcome your little one, he didn’t want to put any undue stress on your shoulders.

So he put his best face forward and sauntered into the house with milkshakes and bags of French fries in hand. You’d heard him pull up, and you eagerly hopped up off the couch, where you’d been reading a book that your midwife had given you.

“I was about to start gnawing on the couch,” you remarked with a smile as you scurried up to kiss him on the cheek. “Thanks for picking this up. You’re so good to me.”

“Anythin’ for you, little wolf,” he hummed. He never thought he’d turn into such a sap, but having a pregnant mate will do that to a guy. Not that he minded. You were worth getting sappy over.

“You still gonna call me little wolf once our little is born?” You asked him as you settled at the kitchen table, eager to tear open your bag of fries.

Rhett smiled as he sat across from you. “You’ll always be m’ little wolf. Even when we’ve got a little wolf of our own.”

His words warmed your chest. He made you feel so loved. You couldn’t wait to see that love translate into the way he handled your daughter. He was going to be a wonderful father, you just knew it.

Your meal progressed with comfortable conversation, the two of you discussing your plans for the rest of the day, and what the schedule looked like tomorrow. It was a sort of domesticity that you loved.

After lunch, it was back to business as usual. The day continued like any other, with nothing seemingly out of the ordinary. Rhett had even sort of forgotten about his encounter with Perry in the stable, and went about his work day like normal.

By the time evening rolled around, everything seemed perfectly fine. Rhett came inside to shower, and you got dinner on the table like you usually did, one of your favorite records playing on the antique record player you kept in the living room.

Rhett was still in the shower as you began setting the table, and you were interrupted by the sound of a car pulling up. Then there were hurried footsteps, and seconds later, the sound of pounding on your door.

Brow furrowed, you set the plate you’d been holding onto the table, tuning in to the agitated voices of two men on your porch. Something was wrong. Wiping your hands on your apron, you strolled over to the door, rolling your eyes when the pounding came again.

You pulled the door open to reveal Luke and Billy Tillerson. You stared at them in surprise. You’d heard of them plenty of times. You knew what the Tillerson name meant. But you’d never met them. Now here they were, standing right in front of you, and you could tell something was wrong.

“Can I help you?”

“Beggin’ your pardon, Mrs. Abbott. Is your man home?” Luke spoke. He offered a charming smile, as if it fixed everything.

“He’s busy. Why do you ask?”

The man shrugged. “Just need to ask him a couple questions, is all. We can wait right here for him.”

“We’re about to sit down to dinner. Can you come back tomorrow?” You offered. You got the sense that they suspected your husband of something. It made your heart quicken in your chest.

Luke narrowed his eyes, still fighting to be polite. “Now would be preferable. Really gotta talk to him.”

“Well, like I said, we’re about to—”

Suddenly, there was a strong hand on your shoulder, and Rhett was gently pulling you back, placing you safely behind him as he stepped into the doorway. “Hope you ain’t botherin’ my wife,” he said.

Luke raised a brow. “Botherin’ her? I was askin’ where you were. Mind steppin’ outside so we can talk?”

Rhett had a sneaking suspicion as to what this was about. So he turned to you. “Stay inside. I’ll be back in a minute.” He left no room for debate.

Quickly, he stepped outside, pulling the door shut. He motioned for both men to follow him off the porch, leading them a little ways away from the house, hoping your enhanced hearing wouldn’t pick up on the conversation.

“What do ya want?”

“Trevor came up here earlier today. He hasn’t been home since.”

Rhett remained neutral in expression, but the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. “Really? I didn’t see him. You sure he was here?”

“Yes, I’m sure! Came here himself to give you papers about the land you’re on.”

Rhett’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Papers? What papers?”

Behind his brother, Billy huffed. “Oh, come on. Don’t play dumb with us.”

“No, I’m bein’ serious! What papers?!”

Luke folded his arms over his chest, shifting his weight to one foot. “He came up here around 9 o’clock this mornin’ to give you papers tellin’ you that you have to move the property line back. The land you’re on right now isn’t yours.”

Rhett felt his chest tightening. “I don’t know anything about any fuckin’ papers. But I do know this land belongs to my pack and you ain’t takin’ it.”

“Look, I’m not the one who wanted to kick you off the land. If it was up to me I wouldn’t really give a shit, as long as you all keep to yourselves. But Trev cares. He talked to the lawyer. Got him to put some papers together tellin’ you to move. You’re really tellin’ the truth when you say you never got the papers?”

“I didn’t get the damn papers. I never saw Trev. I was gone this mornin’ with my wife. Didn’t come back ‘til around 10:45. Then I brought m’ horses in from pasture and went into town. I didn’t see hide nor hair of Trevor the whole time and that’s the God-honest truth.”

Luke sighed deeply, nodding his head. “Alright, alright. I believe ya. Thing is, we haven’t been able to get ahold of Trevor all day. Somethin’ happened.”

Rhett could take a pretty good guess as to what had really happened. He was putting the puzzle pieces together in his head, and his blood was beginning to boil with rage. He was tempted to tell them to go ask Perry, but he held his tongue. Part of him feared what might happen if he blew the whistle. What would it mean for the pack? Even so, he kept himself calm and steady and refused to give away

“Listen, if I hear or see anythin’, I’ll let you boys know. Until then, I’d like t’ have a nice dinner with my wife.”

It didn’t seem like Luke wanted to let it go, but he finally relented. “Fine. But this isn’t over.”

He nodded at Billy, and the two brothers turned and walked back toward their shiny new truck. Rhett remained fixed upon the driveway, his arms crossed over his chest, making sure that they actually left.

As soon as they were out of sight, he sighed deeply, bowing his head. He was torn. Should he confront Perry and try to get him to confess? Or should he just leave it? After all, the less he knew, the better.

Rhett thought of you, and the daughter you were expecting. He didn’t want anything to endanger your future. What would happen if it got out that a wolf had killed a human? All eyes in America would be on their community. Years of rights that had been fought for could be threatened.

Of course, that was the worst-case scenario. In reality, it could only end up being Perry who would pay for the crime. Maybe justice would be served fairly. But in his heart, Rhett knew that wasn’t the case. Trevor Tillerson had been looking for an excuse to run the wolves into the ground. Maybe he’d get his wish from beyond the grave.

“Rhett?” Your soft voice pulled him from his thoughts. He turned to find you standing in the doorway of your home, a look of concern on your face. “What’s going on?” You’d only caught bits and pieces of the conversation. Your heightened hearing was very useful, but you had to really focus to be able to utilize it. You had thought it best not to listen to what the men were saying, even if you were curious. If Rhett told you to stay inside, you knew he must have sensed some sort of danger.

He didn’t want to involve you in this any more than he had to. He worried that he might get pulled into it, and he didn’t want to take you down with him. He shook his head, letting out a sigh as he sauntered back to the porch. “Just…just don’t worry about it, alright? Let’s eat supper.”

“You’re not in trouble, are you?” You asked in fear. The prospect of hunters on your property made you uneasy.

“Nah, nothin’ like that. It’s better if we don’t talk about it for now. Let’s just eat supper.”

So you dropped it, even though you didn’t want to. The way his features had gone tense told you not to keep pushing. If he wanted you to know more, he would tell you.

Dinner continued as normal that night, but Rhett was quieter than he usually was, very clearly troubled by something.

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” You reiterated as you stood at the sink washing dishes, with Rhett beside you drying them.

“Darlin’, I’m askin’ you right now not to bring it up. I…I don’t like keepin’ things from you but I’ve gotta think this one over before I say anythin’. Understand?”

You nodded, turning your body to face him. “Okay. You’re just worrying me, is all.”

Rhett sighed softly and tossed his dish towel aside before he reached out, large hands resting on your hips and pulling you close. “I’ve gotta do what I have to to protect you and our pup. And that’s what I’m doin’ right now. Protectin’ you. And askin’ you to trust me.”

You placed your hands on his chest, meeting his gaze. “I do trust you.”

That was all he needed to hear.

Over the next few days, he was still waging a war in his mind, trying to decide what to do. It was almost as if he was in denial. If he didn’t acknowledge Perry, if he didn’t confront him about the crime, it didn’t happen. Everything was fine.

But as he was cleaning out the stalls in the stable one morning while the horses were out to pasture, he came across something very incriminating. A crumpled piece of paper shoved away in a corner of a stall, forgotten.

Curious, Rhett bent to grab it, straightening up and letting his pitchfork rest against his side as he opened the paper. He scanned the words printed across the page, and his stomach dropped. So this was what Luke had been talking about.

Rhett stared at the paper, trembling in his grasp because his hand was beginning to shake from the anger bubbling up within him. This only confirmed what he suspected. But before he flew off the handle, he needed to get to the bottom of this. He needed to ask Perry what had really happened.

So Rhett tucked the paper in the pocket of his jeans, set his pitchfork aside, put his hat back on his head, and set off toward the Abbott house up the lane. He walked with purpose, his eyes set hard ahead of him.

He could see his brother and his father up ahead, both working on a repair in the corral fence that stood in front of the house. Royal was the first to catch sight of Rhett, and he nodded in silent greeting, curious as to why his son was in such a hurry.

“Rhett,” he called out to acknowledge the younger man’s presence.

But Rhett wasn’t there for Royal. “Can I borrow Perry for a sec?” He asked. His tone was urgent. He didn’t miss the way Perry went tense.

“Can it wait?” Royal asked. “Gotta get this fence done, we got a new horse comin’ in today and it needs to be ready.”

“It’ll only take a few minutes,” Rhett countered.

Perry sighed, but relented, setting down the crowbar in his hands before he turned and stepped out from under the fence. Rhett was already moving, encouraging his brother to follow him as he walked away from the corral.

When Rhett finally stopped, he pulled the piece of paper he’d found in the stable from his pocket. “Mind tellin’ me what this is?” He needed to hear it from his brother’s mouth.

Perry went still as a statue, his face pale. That reaction sent fire through Rhett, and his grip tightened on the paper, crumpling the end. “What the fuck did you do?” He hissed.

“N-nothin’!” Perry tried.

“Bullshit! I want you to say it! What happened in my stable, huh?! The blood I smelled? Now this paper? I know Trevor Tillerson was up here the other day. Luke came lookin’ for him that same night. I didn’t wanna believe that you were capable of somethin’ like this, but maybe you are.”

Perry was hesitating. He’d gone dead silent, as if he was frozen in place. He didn’t know what to say. And that only served to piss Rhett off.

“Talk to me, goddammit!”

“He wouldn’t shut up,” Perry finally relented. “Kept runnin’ his mouth off and I just…I snapped.”

Rhett stared at him. Eyes wide. Chest heaving. He let those words wash over him, and they felt like searing acid on his skin. “You…snapped?”

“He said somethin’ about Rebecca and I just saw red! Next thing I knew he was on the ground covered in blood!” Perry was trembling. Tears were shining in his eyes.

Rhett was vibrating. “You fucking killed him. In my stable.”

“Like I said, I just snapped!”

The younger Abbott could hardly bear to look at his brother. His head was spinning. Deep down he’d known Perry was guilty. That he’d killed Trevor. But now that he’d actually admitted it? It felt like a gut punch.

“I can’t believe you…” Rhett trailed off, hands clenching at his sides. “No, I can believe it. You’re out of fuckin’ control, Per. This is serious, you hear me? You just put the whole pack in danger!”

“I–” Perry started, but Rhett held up his hand.

“No, y’know what? You’re gon’ make this right. You’ve got two days to clean up the mess you made. Either you go to the sheriff, or I will. And if I have to do it, it ain’t gon’ be pretty.”

He shoved the paper into Perry’s hands. Then he got in his face, chest to chest. “If they start goin’ after this pack, there ain’t gonna be a place safe in heaven and earth for you. And if you think I’ll protect you when they do, you’ve got another thing comin’.”

Then, Rhett turned on his heel and stormed off, leaving Perry standing there in the driveway, staring down at the paper that had started it all. For the first time since he’d killed Trevor, the severity of the situation seemed to set in. He thought of Amy, his young daughter, and how this would affect her. If he lost her, he had nothing left. Could he really go through with confessing to this crime? Even if it meant losing what was left of his family?

Rhett was a man of his word. If Perry didn’t confess, he would do it for him, just as he said he would. But Perry felt lost. Uncertain. His judgment was clouded by his own guilt. So he turned to his father again, asking for help, because he didn’t know what to do. Royal would have an answer. Surely he would.

“I’ll talk to Rhett,” the Abbott patriarch assured his eldest son. “See if I can talk him off the ledge. I ain’t gonna let Amy lose you like she lost her ma, alright? She needs her daddy now more ‘an ever. I’ll fix this, son.”

But this was not something that could easily be fixed like a downed corral fence. It was a sinking ship with a cracked hull that no amount of sealant could repair. And whoever remained left on board would surely drown in the depths of the ocean.

In the meantime, Rhett was reeling. Now that he knew the truth, he worried that the Tillersons might show up on his doorstep again. And this time, he wasn't sure if he could lie. He was worried that they had begun to suspect him of having something to do with Trevor’s disappearance. He might soon be faced with the choice of staying quiet, or exposing his brother's nefarious deed just to save himself from being accused of it. He would not go to jail for something he didn’t do. He had a wife and a child to think about.

And when faced with a choice between his mate and his brother, Rhett would always choose you.

He hoped that Perry would do the right thing and confess to his wrongdoing. But if he made no move to fix the mess he made in two days’ time, Rhett would have no choice but to intervene. It was necessary for the good of the pack.

However, things were already spiraling out of control quicker than he even realized.

Just across town, on the Tillerson ranch, a sleek, black limousine was just pulling into the expansive driveway. Luke and Billy stood outside the house, waiting for the lone passenger to step out of the car.

The driver came around and opened the door, and moments later, Patricia Tillerson gracefully emerged from the back of the limousine, her heeled boots kicking up dust as she did so.

She stood there for a moment, reaching up to remove her sunglasses as she eyed her sons. “First your father. Now this?” She finally spoke. She had been in town a few short months ago for Wayne’s funeral. Now, here she was again, under an entirely different circumstance. “Have you made any headway into finding your brother?”

Luke shook his head. “We were waitin’ for you before we did anything else.”

Patricia sighed. “This whole time you could’ve been– you know what? Nevermind. Let’s talk inside.” She stepped past the two boys and made her way up to the large house, walking with purpose as she did so.

Luke and Billy dutifully followed her.

Patricia’s first stop was the liquor cabinet, where she poured herself a glass of brandy. Then she turned to her sons. “Tell me again what you’ve been doing to find Trevor?” Her gaze was hard. She didn’t think they’d been doing enough.

“We…we went to the reservation the other day to ask around about him. Rhett Abbott claims he never saw him. I believe him, he’s an honest man, and–”

His mother scoffed. “Man? Luke, honey, he’s an animal. A savage beast, if you will. There’s no telling the lengths he’d go to throw you off his trail.”

“But Ma, I don’t think he was trying to throw us off,” Billy echoed, shaking his head.

“Shows what you boys know about wolves. They’ll say anything to get off the hook. That fuckin’ pack had something to do with Trevor disappearing. And I pray to God it’s not the case, but they’ve more than likely killed him. Or worse, turned him into one of them. Either way, he’s dead. No son of mine will succumb to the werewolf curse. I’d sooner kill him than let him be turned.”

“So what do you want to do, then? You told me not to call the sheriff, so I didn’t. I’ve stayed silent about this, waiting for you to get here. The more time we waste, the less chance of finding him alive,” Luke pressed, motioning his arms impatiently.

Patricia downed her brandy in one go. “If they have Trevor, they aren’t going to give him up easily. So we give them a little…incentive.”

Billy and Luke shared a look. “What kind of incentive?” Asked Billy.

Their mother folded her arms over her chest, squaring her shoulders. “They took one of ours? We’re going to take one of theirs. We’ll interrogate ‘em while we’re at it, try to get some answers as to what really happened to Trevor.”

They were hunters. And Patricia the best of the best. It would be easy to get back at the Abbott pack. They just had to find the most vulnerable member.

There were plenty to choose from. Between the little ones in your own family, and Amy on Rhett’s side, any number of those pups would be a good target. But Patricia Tillerson had done her research.

It was Rhett’s portion of land they were after. And Rhett just so happened to have a mate. What better way to find his ultimate weakness than to steal the one he loved above all others?

So, she instructed her boys to stake out the property. To track yours and Rhett’s whereabouts so they could discreetly step in and carry out their intended mission without him intervening. Because they knew, if he caught them, he would not let them go without a fight. And it was very likely that they would have to put him down if he came at them.

How fortuitous it was that the very next day after they began their stakeout, you left the property to head into town, without Rhett. The only other person you had in tow was Amy, and she wasn’t a threat whatsoever.

Luke shared a look with Billy. “Guess that’s our chance,” he remarked, and his younger brother nodded in agreement.

So they followed you into town, sure to stay a good distance back so you didn’t suspect anything right off the bat.

In the cab of Rhett’s truck, you and Amy were entirely unaware of the impending danger. You had a few errands to run in town, and Amy was always up for going on excursions with you. Although she had packmates her own age now, she had spent her whole life surrounded by adults, and had essentially been raised by her grandparents and Uncle Rhett, so it was a little difficult for her to integrate herself in with kids her own age. Even if those kids were also wolves like her.

Besides, she’d had to grow up fast because of what had happened with losing her mother. Your heart ached for the part of her childhood that she’d lost, but she seemed to have adapted okay. Even so, you always made sure to include her whenever you had plans by yourself. She was always eager to spend time with you because she loved you for the way you loved her Uncle Rhett.

“I’ve never seen him smile so much,” she’d told you, early on in your relationship with Rhett. “You make him so happy. I’m glad he found you.”

And from then on, a bond was formed between you and the little blonde girl. She didn’t have a mother, and it made your heart ache. So, in a way, you took on that role. You couldn’t fully raise her in the way her mother would, but you reached out to her and spent time with her as much as possible, in hopes of providing some sort of nurturing.

And now there was a new baby on the way, and Amy was teeming with excitement at the prospect of welcoming a little cousin. You could tell she was going to be a big help to you once the baby finally came. She was already asking to babysit, when she got a little older, of course.

Today, you were doing a little shopping to pick up some groceries for Cecilia for the family dinner that you were all having that night, and to buy odds and ends for the baby’s nursery. Amy was just bouncing with eagerness to help you pick things out. You also planned to take her out to lunch at the little diner in town, and you were going to try out the brand new cafe that had just opened. Wabang had little to no coffee shops at all, so a new one was the talk of the town.

Amy didn’t drink coffee yet, even though Uncle Rhett once let her try some of the black coffee he always drank. She said it tasted like dirt water, and it turned her against coffee altogether. Instead, she was looking forward to having a strawberry banana smoothie as a treat to drink on the way home.

Little did you know that you’d never make it home that day.

You set about your errands without a care in the world, listening to Amy rattle off facts and highlights about the book she’d been reading lately. She talked your ear off, but you were perfectly happy to listen.

You were unaware of the eyes watching you as you eventually crossed the street to stop at the butcher’s shop. Or when you finally ended the day by stopping at Half Moon Coffee.

You didn’t notice anything until you were finally back on the road, headed for home. And this time, Luke didn’t bother trying to be inconspicuous. He followed you closely, and when you glanced in your rearview, you realized who was in that shiny new F150.

Your stomach dropped, and you let your eyes flicker back to the road. Without saying a word to alarm Amy, you pressed the gas down, speeding up. Luke sped up as well. Your heart quickened in your chest. A feeling of ice cold dread settled in your gut, spreading throughout your extremities.

“What’s wrong?” Amy asked beside you. She could sense your discomfort and hear your pounding heart. Although she had not yet developed the ability to shift into her wolf, her heightened senses had begun coming in clear and sharp. She picked up on things a lot quicker than she used to.

“Nothing,” you lied.

“Are you sure? You’re scared.”

You knew you couldn’t lie to her. You glanced at her from the corner of your eye. “We’re being followed. I want you to grab my phone and call Uncle Rhett, okay?”

You knew Rhett would be able to sense that you were in danger. That was how it worked with mates. But you wanted Amy to call him so he was immediately aware of the situation and knew exactly where to find you. However, she never got the chance to call him, because in a split second, your assailant sped up, shot around you, and then, several feet ahead of you, slammed on his brakes.

You shrieked in surprise, jamming your foot down onto your own brake. Amy let out a yelp, and your phone flew out of her hands and onto the floorboards. Instinctively, your arm shot out in front of her, protecting her from going forward.

As you skidded to a stop, narrowly avoiding colliding with the other truck, your first thought was to back up and go the way you’d come. If you got close enough to town you might be able to ask for help. But something told you that it wasn’t going to be that easy. Even so, you tried it anyway, throwing the truck in reverse and frantically turning the wheel. You almost had it, too. If it wasn’t for Billy jumping out of the Ford and easily firing two arrows from a crossbow into the tires.

You heard the hissing before you realized what it was. Then the truck shuddered, and you realized the tires were going flat. “No!” You cried. You hit the brakes again, and soon, the truck slid to a rough, jarring halt. You could see the brothers quickly approaching through your side view mirror.

“What do they want?!” Amy cried, trembling with fear beside you.

You knew you had to protect her. So you turned to her, eyes locked into hers. “Get down on the floor. Stay in this truck and do not get out. See if you can call Uncle Rhett. I-I’ll get out and talk to them.”

But you never got the chance. Suddenly, your door was yanked open, and you gasped in surprise, coming face to face with Luke.

“Get out of the truck,” he said.

“Please, this isn’t–”

Billy lifted the crossbow, pointing it right at you. “Get out!”

With trembling hands, you fumbled to unbuckle your seatbelt, chest tight with fear as you scrambled out of the truck. Behind you, you could hear Amy crying, scared out of her mind.

“No!” She wailed, grabbing onto your arm in a futile attempt to keep you from going with them.

“Amy, baby, let go of me!” You exclaimed, afraid they’d hurt her if she didn’t settle. But when you glanced back at her, you saw a wildness in her eyes. She’d already lost her mother, she was terrified of losing you, too.

But in the blink of an eye, you were hauled out of the truck, kicking and screaming. Luke was strong, but you were a wolf, and you were stronger than him. It wasn’t that difficult to pull yourself out of his grasp, and you growled threateningly, whirling around to face both men, daring them to come closer.

But one had a crossbow fitted with silver arrows. You could tell by the way they glinted in the sun. If Billy shot you with one of them, it would not end well. Silver was was like poison for werewolves. And you thought of the babe inside you, and how it might harm her. You didn’t want to risk getting shot.

But it was still your instinct to fight. “What do you want with me?!” You cried, baring your fangs, your eyes flashing gold.

But both of them grabbed you at once, wrestling you against the side of the truck, even as you snarled and snapped and struggled. You managed to catch Luke by the face with your claws and leave a considerable slash in his cheek, at which he growled in pain. But it only angered him and his adrenaline made him even stronger.

Amidst the scuffle, you felt something sharp against the side of your neck, like a pinprick, and then, a thick, metallic collar was fastened crudely around your throat just as your body began to betray you.

You gasped, and suddenly, you had no control of your limbs. Your brain screamed at you to fight, to flee, to preserve yourself. But you couldn’t move. Before you even realized, you were plummeting toward the ground, and your vision swam with black spots until, finally, you succumbed to unconsciousness entirely.

Billy looked at Luke as they stood over your crumpled form. “What should we do about the kid? Wanna take her with us too?” Billy asked.

Luke sighed, reaching into his back pocket to grab a handkerchief to dab at the wound on his cheek. “Ma wouldn’t want us just to leave her. I’ll grab her, she could be useful. You get this one into the truck,” he motioned toward you before he sauntered around to the passenger side of your GMC.

However, when he opened the door, expecting to find a distraught Amy, he came up with nothing. The cab was empty, and Amy was nowhere to be found.

“What the fuck?” Luke whispered to himself. “Goddammit!”

Where on earth could she have gone? All that surrounded the was open plains. In the amount of time it took to get you down, there was no way she could’ve found a hiding place that quickly.

Hurriedly, Luke ducked to check beneath the truck, and the truck bed, only to come up empty-handed. He cursed again, kicking at one of the slashed tires.

“She’s gone!” He exclaimed to his brother.

Billy’s eyes went wide. “How?!” He asked as he shoved the bed cover closed on the F150, effectively covering up the fact that you were currently laying inside it.

“I don’t know! I thought they couldn’t shift that young but maybe she did and that’s how she got the slip. I guess it’s not that big of a deal, but Ma will still be pissed we let her get away.”

Billy shrugged it off. “Whatever. We don’t even have to tell her the kid got away since she doesn’t know she was here to begin with. ‘sides, Rhett’s mate was who we were after anyway. We got what we came for. Let’s go.”

And so, the Tillerson boys climbed back into their truck and headed off toward their ranch, your unconscious body hidden in the back.

Meanwhile, in that old, rickety GMC, a furry little wolf pup was just squeezing out from under the front seat, where she’d hidden herself from the view of the hunters. She crept toward the door, where she stuck her head out and sniffed at the air. She smelled the remnants of gasoline and exhaust, and she whimpered.

Amy wasn’t sure how she’d ended up in this predicament. One moment, she was watching in terror as you were ripped away from her, and the next, she was shrinking, and when she looked down, her hands were little black paws.

Driven by her fear, she managed to wedge herself beneath the bench and hide there until the Tillersons left. Now, she had no idea how to shift back to human, but she knew she had to get help. So she launched herself onto the dusty ground, and took off in the direction of home.

Meanwhile, at the Abbott ranch, things were in upheaval.

Rhett had been out with his father and brother, searching for a lost steer that had somehow gotten away from the herd. Rhett claimed a coyote probably got to it. Royal insisted the animal was simply lost.

Halfway out into the south pasture, Rhett was hit with a sudden shock of anxiety, as if someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water on him.

“Whoa,” he gently spoke to his mare Esmeralda, tugging on her reins to bring her to a stop. He gasped sharply as, all at once, this horrible, consuming wave of dread began spreading within his chest.

“No,” he croaked, and just like that, his entire world began to spin off its axis. He clutched at his chest as his heart began to pound. It felt almost like a heart attack, except he knew it was nothing of the sort.

You were in danger.

“Somethin’s wrong!” He desperately shouted ahead to Royal and Perry. He hardly recognized his own voice. It was a guttural, anguished cry.

He urged Esmeralda into a gallop, hurtling toward the other two men. “Gotta go back!” Rhett cried. He spoke your and Amy’s names, and that immediately got their attention. Together, the three of them set off for the house, with Rhett urging Esmeralda as fast as she could go.

As soon as he made it to the house, he eased the horse to a stop and, quick as lightning, jumped to the ground. Although he had the ability to sense when you were in danger, that ability did not allow him to pinpoint your exact location. He had to follow you by sense alone, and the closer he got to you, the stronger that terrible ache in his chest would get, letting him know he was on the right track to find you.

He’d never felt this before. Not to this magnitude. He had always been told that it was an intense feeling, indescribable in every sense. And it was. It was the strongest sensation he’d ever felt. Like his heart was outside of his body, pulling him toward you.

The second his feet hit the ground, he was running, sprinting into the house in search of Royal’s truck keys. He startled his mother, who was in the kitchen making preparations for the dinner that night.

“Goodness gracious, what’s happened?!” She asked her son. He shouted over his shoulder that you and Amy were in danger, and Cecilia gasped, her heart dropping at the thought of her granddaughter and daughter-in-law being harmed.

Keys in hand, Rhett threw himself toward the old Ford Ranger, flinging open the door, ignoring the voices of his family members shouting after him. His vision was tunneled. The only thing that mattered was getting to you. He was just about to turn and tell Cecilia to inform your parents of what was happening, but then, altogether, he froze.

A chill ran down his spine, and he sucked in a ragged breath. “No,” he wheezed. “No, no, no.”

“I-I can’t feel her,” he whispered. He wrenched the truck door back open, and he locked eyes with his mother, who was waiting concernedly nearby. His knees nearly buckled as his feet hit the ground. He stumbled forward, and Cecilia caught him. “Mama, I can’t…I can’t feel her!”

“What do you mean you can’t feel her?” She asked her son. But she knew.

“She’s…she’s just gone! I can’t…I don’t…” Rhett could hardly speak. His throat felt like it was constricting, cutting off his airflow. A harrowing sense of dread washed over him. He knew what this meant. All of them did. If a werewolf could no longer feel its mate’s presence, it could only mean one thing.

That mate was dead.

And that realization drove Rhett to his knees. Cecilia caught him so he wouldn’t hit the ground hard. He clutched at his mother’s shirt, his face buried against her abdomen, and he wailed out his pain, the agony of which was too great for him to bear.

Perry was demanding something above him. Shouting about finding Amy. But Rhett couldn’t hear him. He was deafened by the rush of blood in his ears. Deafened by the ringing sound. He thought of you, and the baby you carried, and he wept.

Just like that, in the blink of an eye, he’d lost everything.

To be continued…

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#rhett abbot x reader #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott fic #werewolf rhett #the wolf series

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