#💕leah

[lovingbradshawafterdark]

I realized I posted om the wrong blog but @lewmagoo

Werewolf Bobby during a rutt is a menace and will never let you go, he's going to stuff you full of his cock over and over again until something takes and you are full of his pups

[lovingbradshawafterdark]

RAAAAAAAAA

to my heart, he carries the key | bob floyd

sequel to someone to watch over me (i recommend reading the first part beforehand so this makes more sense)

description: in which a threat is made against the president’s daughter’s life, and agent robert floyd is tasked with carrying out ‘operation hidden angel’

characters: secret service agent bob floyd x f!reader, pete mitchell, beau simpson, dagger squad as their own respective characters

warnings: 18+, mentions of domestic terrorism, military, secret service and us gov’t inaccuracies, smut, unprotected sex, forbidden love, gun violence, attempted kidnapping, hospitals, broken bones, angst, hopeful ending

Things had changed in The White House.

It had been three months since that fateful night during a charity event, where a man in the crowd targeted the First Daughter of the United States. Agents Robert Floyd, Jacob Seresin, and Reuben Fitch intercepted the perpetrator, and he was disarmed before he could harm anyone. He had been taken into custody, and after weeks of extensive questioning and investigation, The Department of Homeland Security had determined that this man was not working alone. He was a member of a homegrown terrorist organization.

The only thing they couldn’t get out of him was the location of the organization. He refused to give them up, but he was adamant that in a few short months, they were going to go through with their next act of violence. And this time, people were going to die. 

It was very calculated. Every last detail was planned out. How they would get the attention of the American public. How they would carry out their threat against the US government. And the way that they planned to do that? 

Why, kidnapping the president’s daughter, of course. 

During the time it took to obtain that information from the perpetrator, there was unrest in The White House. A changing of the guard, so to speak, was taking place. Tragedy had struck in the personal life of Pete Mitchell, head of White House security. 

His husband of over thirty years, Tom Kazansky, had passed away after a bout with cancer. Pete took it hard. Hard enough that after the funeral and the burial and everything in between, he decided that it was time to retire from his decade long position as head of security. 

It was not a decision that he took lightly. In fact, he’d agonized over it before finally biting the bullet and placing his letter of resignation upon the president’s desk.

“The truth is, I’m getting too old for this,” he told his team of agents, as he addressed them on the day he left. “I know, I know, it’s shocking to most of you,” he teased, as lighthearted chuckles filled the room. “But…it’s time for me to step down. Tom’s death showed me how fragile life is, and how much I should be cherishing it. I have grandchildren on the way, and I plan to be here to watch them grow up.” He glanced at Bradley Bradshaw, and the pair shared a silent understanding. Bradley’s wife was expecting. Pete didn’t want to miss a moment of that little one’s life.

“So, in my stead, Beau Simpson has agreed to take on the position as the new White House Head of Security.”

And thus, new leadership walked onto the stage. 

At first, things weren’t that much difference. Your personal security detail, with Bob as the head, remained the same. Everyone missed Agent Mitchell, but life had to go on. And go on, it did. 

Bob, for one, wasn’t the biggest fan of change. But change was part of the job, it was part of life, so he couldn’t make a big deal about it. When Simpson began to implement subtle changes into the way things were done, Bob bristled, but he didn’t speak out. He held his tongue, because he had a sneaking suspicion that if he were to rebel against Simpson’s leadership, he’d lose his job faster than he could even blink.

So he simply observed silently and waited to see just how many changes Simpson was going to make.

And then, one day, Bob was called into the president’s office, where he stood before Agent Simpson and POTUS himself. “Do you know why we’ve brought you in, Agent Floyd?” Beau asked.

“No sir,” came Bob’s simple response. He didn’t get the sense that he was losing his job, so he had no idea why he was standing here in the Oval Office. 

“I’m sure you recall three months ago, when a threat was made against the president’s daughter.”

“Yes sir, vividly.” He’d never forget that night. Never forget the terror in your voice as you called out for him. 

Then, the president interjected. “As Agent Mitchell previously briefed you, the perpetrator was part of a domestic terrorist organization here on our soil. Recently, he confessed to agents that this group will be carrying out an act of violence upon the American people. We aren’t sure where, or when exactly, but what we are sure of, is that they’re going to go after my daughter again.”

Agent Simpson picked up where the man left off. “Listen very carefully to what I am about to tell you. What we talk about here is strictly confidential. It is a matter of national security.” Then he leaned closer toward Bob. “I am going to give you a set of coordinates. No one else but you, me, and the president know them. Once I give them to you, I want you to be prepared for my signal. When I deem it necessary, you will go to the Residence, retrieve his daughter, and escort her to this location. You will not bring any other agents with you. Just you, and herself. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir. But why am I being given coordinates contrary to the location of the safe house that was already put in place?”

“Because that location has been compromised. You must only escort her to the coordinates I give you. Her life depends on it.”

“And when we get there?”

“You wait for my all clear. It won’t be safe to bring her back home until the threat is neutralized. Can you carry out these orders?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good. Now memorize these coordinates.” Agent Simpson recited the numbers twice. Bob had an excellent memory, and stored away the information easily. Once he confirmed the coordinates by reciting them back to the man, Beau nodded. “From here on out, you will be prepared at all times to carry out Operation Hidden Angel.”

Bob breathed in, then out. Then he nodded. “I will be standing by awaiting further orders.”

The president stood from behind his desk. “I trust you to do whatever it takes to protect my only child, Agent Floyd. Don’t make me regret it.”

“Whatever it takes, sir.”

He was dismissed from the office, and his head was spinning. Suddenly, he was burdened with a deep sense of pressure. The need to do his job well. Not because your father and the entire country was depending on him, but because you were depending on him. 

He had taken an oath to serve and protect. And he meant it. Even before he knew he loved you, he had made good on that oath. And now, even more so. You were infinitely precious to him, and he would do whatever it took to ensure your safety. 

Even if it meant giving his life to ensure it. He was fully prepared to go to that length if he needed to. 

That night, he couldn’t sleep. His mind kept drifting to you. To how much he loved you. How much he missed you. He saw you everyday. He escorted you to wherever you needed to go. But those moments did not allow him to be alone with you in the way that you both wanted. There were always prying eyes. Other members of your security detail. Cameras. Nosey reporters. Your relationship had remained secret all this time, and you couldn’t risk exposing it. 

So he would continue pining for you, desiring you, hoping for a private moment to at least hold you in his arms. Little did he know he was about to get that opportunity, just not in the way that he was expecting.

The orders came one Friday afternoon. The work day was coming to a close. At that moment, you were in your quarters getting ready. That evening, you had a dinner engagement with a friend from college. Bob had only just finished briefing the rest of your detail on what the itinerary was for the night. Everyone was prepped and on the same page.

And then, Agent Simpson’s voice spoke into his earpiece.

“Agent Floyd, it’s time to enact Operation Hidden Angel.”

He tensed, his heart seizing in his chest as a shock of dread shuddered down his spine. This was it. His worst fear was coming true. Your life had been directly threatened, and it was time to take you to the designated safe house deep in the Virginia mountains.

And when Bob received that command, he had no choice but to act on it. He touched his fingers to his earpiece and responded. “Copy that. Operation Hidden Angel commencing.”

And then he was off, his shoes tapping rhythmically against the polished wooden floors as he rushed down each hallway and corridor. Adrenaline drove him forward, and he soon came to the entrance to the residence. Breathing in deeply to steady himself, he knocked twice before he opened the doors. 

He knew where you were. He didn’t have to search. You were in your bedroom, readying yourself for the night ahead. For propriety’s sake, he knocked softly. If he hadn’t been afraid that someone might see him, he would’ve just burst into the room. 

He still had to keep up the appearance that you were not romantically involved. 

On the other side of the door, you were just setting out the outfit you would wear that night. You were entirely oblivious to the looming danger, eager for an eveningof catching up with an old friend. “Come in!” You called out as you debated which accessories to add to your outfit. 

You were surprised to see Bob in your doorway. You smiled at the unexpected visit, but your smile soon faded when you saw the urgent look on his face. “You need to grab your emergency bag and come with me. Now.”

Your stomach dropped. “Bobby, what—”

“Just come. It’s not safe for you to be here right now.”

Deciding it best not to ask any further questions in the moment, you rushed to your closet, trembling hands yanking out the bag of packed necessities  you kept for emergencies such as this. Then you shoved your feet into your shoes and rushed after him. 

“What’s happening?” You asked as you followed Bob out of your room and down the corridor that led out of the residence. 

“Can’t tell you the details. Just need to get you somewhere safe.”

“But-”

He turned, stopping you in your tracks. “Do you trust me?” He asked, blazing blue eyes locked with yours. 

“With my life,” you replied without hesitation. 

“Then stick with me. I’ll keep you safe.”

So you stopped asking questions. You followed Bob through the back hallways of the White House, allowing him to lead you, trusting in his guidance. You knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would protect you. He always had. When there was a threat against your safety, he was the first to run toward the danger. 

But now, you were both running from it. You knew it had to be serious if you were being removed from The White House. Someone had likely made a significant threat, and Agent Simpson had advised you be removed from the premises until the threat was neutralized. 

But would the danger ever be gone? Even if this particular instance was taken care of, others would come up in the future. You would never be safe, because that was just your life as the president’s one and only child. 

You did, however, feel safe with the man in front of you. His large, warm hand engulfed your own as he led you down beneath the building. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to ensure your protection. Not only because it was his duty, but because he couldn’t live with himself if something happened to you. He loved you too much.

And that was the sticky part of the situation. No one knew about your secret love for one another. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Someone did know. Bradley Bradshaw, Bob’s secondhand man on your security detail, had silently put two and two together. He’d never outright told either of you that he knew, but there seemed to be a silent understanding between him and Bob. A way of communicating that had come with years of working alongside each other in the same military branch. Neither one of them had to say a word, but they knew what the other was thinking. 

Bradley had kept your secret all this time. You were often surprised that no one had found out, and both you and Bob lived in fear that one day, your father would find out. And if that were to happen, you would lose Bob. He would be dismissed from his duties and you would likely never see him again. The thought broke your heart. 

But for the time being, you were able to slip under the radar. Now, especially, because it was just the two of you. And for a moment, you wondered why the rest of your detail wasn’t with you. “Bob, where’s the rest of the team?” You asked as he pulled you to a stop outside a sleek black sedan. He grabbed your bag and threw it in the backseat before motioning for you to climb in alongside it.

“I’ll explain later.” He ushered you into your seat before he scurried to the driver’s side and slipped into the seat. The engine roared to life seconds later, and he glanced back at you. “Buckle up.”

You did.

Then he was taking off, headed out of the parking garage. As he hit the gas, he spoke into his earpiece. “Angel is flying.”

“Bob, why is it just the two of us?”  You reiterated your question from a few moments earlier.

He glanced at you through the rearview, debating just how much he should tell you. “The more people that know where we’re going, the more danger it puts you in. Only your dad and Agent Simpson know where we’re going.”

“Where are we going?”

“Just…just don’t ask questions, okay, honey? The less you know, the safer you are.”

You heeded his words and settled back into your seat, your heart racing against your ribcage. This was more serious than you realized, wasn’t it? And as you thought about it, the more fearful you became. Your life was in danger, and it was an odd feeling. 

Who were you, that someone wanted to kill you? Your father’s decisions were not a reflection of your own morals or beliefs. You had no control over the way he chose to run the country. But there were times when his decisions put a target on his family’s back. Yours especially, because as his child, you were his biggest weakness. Remove you from the equation, and one would have the President of the United States in the palm of their hand, willing to do whatever they asked just to get you back. 

This was why proactive measures were being taken. You couldn’t be used as a bargaining chip if you were in hiding. But oh, how you hated it. This was your father’s second term. You had been living in the White House for much too long, and you were tired of it. Tired of the world’s eyes being on you at all times. Tired of the politics and the responsibility. You had never asked for this. This was your father’s endeavor, you were just along for the ride. 

But it had resulted in you being placed into the back of a bulletproof car and driven off to some top-secret location just to keep you safe. And from the back of that seat, your eyes observed the singular agent in charge of maintaining that safety. He wasn’t looking at you through the rearview, his eyes were on the road where they belonged. But you could see the conflict in those beautiful blues. You could see the fear. 

Whatever this threat was had scared him. And that was saying something, because Bob Floyd didn’t scare easily. But when it came to protecting you, he did get scared. Terrified, even. He just didn’t let you see it. He wanted you to trust him, to feel secure. And you did. In fact, no one else made you feel as secure as he did. Yes, the rest of your detail did a wonderful job. You knew you could trust them with your life. 

But because you loved Bob so much, you sought him out for shelter and protection. He was the first you turned to when you were frightened or felt unsafe. And he loved being that for you. Loved that you looked to him for those things. 

However, he sometimes thought about the day he might fail you. Would his feelings for you hinder his ability to protect you effectively? Would he be blinded by love? It hadn’t happened yet, but he knew if he was even a smidge off his game, Agent Simpson would be able to sniff it out. And he would not let Bob off the hook for it, either. He’d instruct him to end his relationship with you immediately. And there would be no second chance. Beau would tell the president, and Bob’s position would be terminated.

But it had not gotten to that point, and you prayed it never would. You much preferred sharing this intimate little secret. It did make maintaining your relationship a little difficult, because there were times when you wished you had the guts to tell your father, to tell the world. But the thought of the repercussions that would follow always made you decide against it. 

You wanted to relish in this secret for a little longer. If the time ever did come to reveal your relationship, you would know. Until then, you remained under the radar, stealing private moments when you could, and otherwise keeping your distance when it was appropriate. 

But now you were entirely alone. No prying eyes. No risk of being caught. You were alone, because Bob was the only one your father trusted to watch over you. Because some unhinged madman had made a threat against your life and Bob would sooner die than let any harm come to you. 

“You’re taking me to the safe house, aren’t you?” You spoke up. You had no idea where the house was located, but you had heard of presidents in the past utilizing safe houses. If you were being physically removed from The White House and taken elsewhere, a safe house was the only logical destination you could think of. 

Bob caught your eye through the rearview mirror. His expression was bleak, and he said nothing, but it confirmed what you were asking. 

The drive to the safe house was two hours. You left behind the bustling area of Washington, D.C. and headed into the mountains of Virginia. And as you went, the sun began to sink lower in the sky, allowing eventide to grace the land.

You and Bob hardly spoke, which was uncommon. But you could tell he was harrowed by this situation, and in turn, you were just as scared. It rendered you both silent for the rest of the ride. Instead, you stared out the window, watching the landscape go by, wondering how long you would have to stay here. A night? A week? A month? How serious was this threat made against you? How immediate was the danger? 

All these questions swirled in your mind as Bob drove up a winding, dirt drive. It seemed to go on forever, and the farther he went, the darker it got. But he kept going, until finally, he was pulling up outside a small cabin.

You stared in confusion. Surely this couldn’t be it, right? When thinking of a safe house, you imagined concrete walls and impenetrable security systems. This was just a cabin in the middle of nowhere. 

Bob was confused as well. An odd feeling churned to life in his gut. Something didn’t feel quite right about this, but these were the coordinates he was given. He had not made a mistake in his navigation. You were where you were supposed to be.

“Are you sure this is the place?” You asked as he pulled the car behind the house, intending to keep it hidden from view so as not to raise any suspicions if anyone were to happen upon the place.

“These are the coordinates I was given. I followed orders,” Bob replied, a little sharply, but his annoyance wasn’t directed at you. It was at whoever had designated this as a safe house. Surely the US government could afford something more than this, right?

“I just…was expecting something more grand. A fortress or something,” came your explanation.

Bob softened. “Honestly, me too. I didn’t know what to expect. They gave me the coordinates when I first took charge of your detail. I always assumed the safe house was a bunker.”

Both of you were wrong. Instead, it was a quaint cabin that looked like any normal cabin in the forest might look. However, when you got up to the porch, you found a keypad on the door. It had to be unlocked by a code.

Bob spoke into his mic. “Angel has landed safely.”

Seconds later, Agent Simpson’s voice crackled to life in his ear. “Copy that,” he said. And then, “zero one zero two nine three.”

Bob typed the numbers into the keypad, and the sound of a lock turning reached his ears. Seconds later, the door was unlocked. He opened the door and took a look inside, scoping out the place. 

It looked like a typical hunting cabin, except more well furnished. a seating area off to the left, complete with a bearskin rug. A small kitchen off to the right. An old oak dining table in the middle of the main room. 

“Let me see,” you spoke up from behind him. 

He stepped forward into the house and allowed you to follow suit. As soon as you were both safely inside, he shut the door, manually locking it. He was surprised at the addition of windows to the cabin. As you wandered around and explored the place, he parted the blackout curtain that hung upon one of the front windows, tapping the glass with his fingertips. It was bulletproof. 

He eyed the architecture of the house, assessing what it was made out of. It he had to guess, there was also bulletproof material within the wall panels. Although the cabin looked normal, it was anything but. It was designed to blend in, to not raise suspicion. 

And then his eyes traveled to the bearskin rug, and something told him to check it out. As you were rifling around in the kitchen, he stepped over to the seating area and kicked at the rug with his foot. It seemed to be fastened to the floor. So he knelt down and pulled at each edge until one gave way, lifting up to reveal a hiding space beneath the floor. 

He grabbed his small utility flashlight he kept on his belt and shined the light inside. This was the bunker he’d assumed he was taking you to. It was very clearly designed to withstand any sort of disaster. I hoped he wouldn’t have to utilize it. 

“What’s that?” You came up behind him, peering over his shoulder. 

“Bunker.” He slammed the door shut. With the rug overtop of it, it didn’t look out of place at all. Bob turned to you, his expression serious. “If anything happens, we go down there.”

You held his gaze, your own fearful. “Bobby…how bad is it?” You wanted to know the severity of the threat. You wanted to know if you’d be forced to hide in that bunker. 

Bob stepped closer to you, allowing himself the physical connection he’d deprived you both of in his haste to get you here safely. His hand came up to cup your cheek. “Bad enough that your dad was spooked. Bad enough that Simpson thought we should bring you to the safe house.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, lifting your hand to rest it gently overtop of his own. “I’m tired of this,” you whispered. 

“I know,” he whispered back. He wanted to assure you that he’d protect you. That you were safe with him. But the words felt so insignificant. Yes, he would protect you, but that didn’t change the fact that a threat had still been made to your life. You, the most precious soul he’d ever known. You, kind and giving and compassionate. You, the one who loved him. How could anyone target you?

You leaned in close, and his mind ceased its wandering. Your free hand was placed gently against his chest, over his heart. And then you spoke. “Do you think that maybe…we could pretend, just for a little bit, that life is normal? That we’re just two people living in their little cabin in the woods, who aren’t actually in danger of a terrorist trying to take their lives?”

Bob’s mouth curled into a halfhearted smile. “Yeah…yeah, we can do that, little love. Whatever you want.”

Little love. The endearing nickname always made your heart warm in your chest. You nestled yourself against him, lifting your head and seeking out his kiss. He gladly returned the affection, mouth fitting against yours like it was always meant to, lips meeting in a tender kiss. 

For a fleeting moment, everything felt alright. There was no looming danger. No president’s daughter and secret service agent. It was just two people, very much in love, sharing an impassioned kiss in their living room. 

And then you parted, and as Bob rested his forehead against yours, you said, “You hungry? I found a box of MREs stored away in the kitchen.”

He smiled, humming softly in amusement. “Mm, my favorite,” he teasingly replied. 

Your hands now rested on his chest. “I’ll get them ready.”

You shared one more kiss before you slipped away to saunter over to the kitchen. As you did so, Bob grabbed your duffel bag and carried it to what he assumed was a bedroom. When he opened the door, his assumption was confirmed. 

A double sized bed was positioned in the middle of the sparsely furnished room. There was a nightstand on one side of the bed and a dresser along the opposite wall, facing the bed. An empty closet was across the room. 

Bob set your bag down on the bed, and he assumed the two of you would be sharing this bed. His heart yearned for it. It had been a while since the two of you had shared a bed and spent the night snuggled up close. He missed it so. 

Although the situation that had brought you here was less than ideal, at least you would be able to spend time with each other, without having to sneak around. 

With a soft sigh, Bob stepped out of the bedroom, pulling the door shut before he quickly made his way back outside, with intentions of doing a perimeter sweep to make sure the area was secure. Once he was satisfied, he made his way back to the house, stopping only to grab his own overnight bag that had been stashed in the trunk of the sedan. 

Moments later, he was inside with you again, the door locked securely behind him. 

In the meantime, you were at work in the kitchen, reading the directions on your MRE packet. When he entered the room, you looked up, and then motioned to the bin of pre-packaged food kits you had found. 

“Take your pick. There’s macaroni in tomato sauce, chili, spaghetti, and some bean and cheese thing.”

He chose the macaroni in tomato sauce, assuming it would be the safest option. Together, you prepared your respective meals, and you couldn’t help but find it a little humorous that your first time cooking together consisted of making military grade survival meals. 

“I haven’t eaten one of these in years,” Bob mused, as he activated the heating element. A memory flashed in his mind. A not so happy one. “Last time I had one was when my plane went down during a mission. Natasha was flying with me then. We were stuck in the woods for days.”

You frowned softly at his admission. “How did you make it back?”

“Some nice farmer saw us along the road and we were able to hitch a ride with him into the nearest town. We radioed for help.”

“Why didn’t search and rescue come for you?”

“Partly because we went down in enemy territory. And because our plane literally exploded into a million pieces. We were presumed dead.”

Your previously chipper mood was dampened a bit as you imagined him and Natasha, yet another trusted agent in your security detail, lost and potentially injured  in unfamiliar territory. “Did you get hurt when the plane went down?” You asked. 

He nodded. “Got some nasty cuts. Some burns, too. You know the scar on my side?”

You hummed in realization. You did know it. You’d run your fingers over the six inch long scar many times while laying in bed with him. 

“That was shrapnel from the blow. Cut me pretty good. Nat stitched it up for me, actually. Kind of embarrassed to admit I passed out during it.”

You reached out, touching his arm gently. “Nothing to be embarrassed about. I can’t even imagine, Bobby. That must’ve been awful.”

He nodded. “But we got through it. Nat’s one determined gal. She told me she was gonna get me home safe. And she did. If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be alive right now.”

Your hand moved from his arm, resting against his back, thumb stroking circles along his spine. Your touch grounded him. “Remind me to thank her.”

He smiled softly as he finished preparing his food. He was beyond grateful that the Fates had decided to spare him. Had they not, he never would have met you, the best thing to ever happen to him. 

Joining the Secret Service had never been part of Bob’s plan. He’d never even considered it. But Agent Mitchell had recommended him to the president, and after Bob had fulfilled his commitment of time to the Navy, he’d moved over to The White House, where he became part of security. 

In fact, the entirety of your personal security detail had been recommended to your father by Pete Mitchell. With you making more public appearances and doing charity work, it put you on the radar. Your father wanted the best security detail possible for you, and because he trusted Pete’s judgment, he brought them in to begin the interview process. In the end, all of them were hired. 

But only one was the head of your detail. Only Bob was entrusted with every minute detail of your safety. Not because the others couldn’t be trusted, or because they were incapable. Far from it. It was his sharpness and his ability to assess threats quickly. It was his respectfulness and penchant for following the rules (or so everyone thought). Out of the group of agents assigned to you, Bob stood out above the rest. 

In the words of your father, Seresin was too cocky, Bradshaw too aloof, and Trace too emotional. You strongly disagreed with his words. You didn’t like the assessments he’d made of each agent. You thought he was being unfair and harsh. Especially with Natasha. Calling her too emotional was crossing over into sexist territory, you felt. If anything, Bradley was the emotional one. But you didn’t argue with your dad. Whatever POTUS says, goes. 

None of the supposed “downfalls” your father saw in each agent affected their ability to protect you. All of them put their lives on the line every single day to ensure your safety. 

But in the end, they hadn’t been put solely in charge of your security team. Bob had. And now here you stood, in safe house in the middle of the Virginia wilderness, eating survival food and pretending everything was fine. Just you and him. 

Strangely enough, you were grateful. Grateful that he was the one you were with. And maybe it was for selfish reasons, but you didn’t care. You just hated that your only opportunity to be alone with him as of late was because of the imminent danger posed to your life. 

But you would cherish the time you were allotted. 

That night, in the quietness of that little cabin in the woods, the two of you sat at the oak dining table adjacent to the kitchen, with your feet resting in Bob’s lap. You drank the electrolyte drink mixes that were provided in your MREs, pretending they were some sort of fancy alcoholic cocktail, if only for your sanity’s sake. 

For the rest of the evening, you didn’t acknowledge the circumstances that had brought you here. Instead, you talked of anything and everything. It wasn’t often that you had a chance to have such meaningful conversations with one another. Your time together was usually short. Secret meetings under the cover of darkness. Stolen moments of passion in hotel rooms. Intimate embraces where no prying eyes could see. 

But flashes of reality still shocked you like a splash of cold water to the face. Such as the fact that Bob’s gun was still strapped to his hip. Or the fact that he went around the house making sure all the blackout curtains were drawn, and double checking the lock system on the door. 

You tried to ignore it. Focused on cleaning up your haphazard dinner instead. But there was still a feeling of unease in your gut. Bob seemed to notice your anxiety, ever observant, and he approached you as you wiped down the table with a dish cloth you’d found in one of the drawers. His arms encircled your waist, and you sighed, leaning back against him, letting your eyes flutter shut. 

“Hey,” he whispered, nuzzling his face against the back of your neck. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”

You turned around in his hold, placing your hands upon his chest. “I know. I just…I’m trying to pretend everything is fine but it’s hard when there’s a literal bunker beneath us, and you’re walking around with your gun on your hip, and checking the state of the art locking system on the door over there.”

Bob glanced down at the weapon in its holster. “Here,” he said. He stepped back, removing his belt, and taking the holster along with it. He took the gun and carried it into the bedroom, where he placed it on the singular nightstand beside the bed. Then he rejoined you in the main room. 

“Is that better?” He asked. 

“A little,” you replied with a nod, welcoming him into your arms again. 

He dipped his head low, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. “I love you, sweet girl.”

Your chest warmed. “I love you too.”

A large hand lifted up, fingers stroking your cheek. “You want to play pretend? We’ll play pretend.” His arm then came down to wrap around your waist, palm pressed into the small of your back. “This is our homestead, right? And you…you are my pretty little wife.” His free hand tapped your nose with his fingers. 

“Oh? I like the sound of that,” came your soft reply. 

His arm tightened around you. “Mhm. And I just came in from a long day of workin’ the land. Looks like we’re gonna have a good harvest, too. Won’t go hungry this winter.” 

Your mouth curved into a fond smile. His accent was coming through. Picked up from summers spent on his granddaddy’s ranch. “Take such good care of me,” you said. “My strong, handsome man.”

He kissed you again, this time more languidly. “Always gonna take care of my wife.”

That promise translated outside of this silly little roleplay, too. You knew he’d always look out for you. “What would I do without my Bobby?” You asked. 

He gently bumped noses with you, enjoying the closeness. It made you a little dizzy. You hadn’t been in his big, strong arms like this in a while. You’d missed it more than you realized. The close proximity of your bodies had you growing breathless, and your fingers grasped at the fabric of his button down. 

“I…can we…” You couldn’t get the words out. But he knew what you wanted. 

“You need me, honey?”

You nodded, caught off guard when tears welled in your eyes. “Please,” you whimpered pitifully. It hit you hard, like a blow to the chest. You hadn’t expected the feeling to be so intense, but now you were leaning into him for support, afraid your knees would give way if you tried to stand on your own. 

“I’ve got you. Let’s go to the bedroom, okay?”

With his arm secured around you, he led you to the room. There, he guided you to sit on the bed before he turned on the little beside lamp on the nightstand. It didn’t give off much light, but it did cast a soft, warm glow over the bed. 

And then he was in front of you again, but this time, he was kneeling, placing his hands on your knees as he looked up at you. “If you want to stop at any time, you tell me, alright?”

You nodded. 

“Words, lovey.”

“Yes sir.”

He wanted to be a little more careful with you in this moment. Not that he wasn’t careful with you all the time, but he had a feeling you needed a little more tenderness than usual. Having your life threatened was a harrowing experience. He wanted to give you the intimacy and closeness you needed. He wanted to be a comfort to you. 

As he rose to his feet, a big, gentle hand cupped your cheek. You lifted your head, gazing up at him. His thumb lovingly stroked your bottom lip, and you instinctively opened your mouth, wrapping your lips around the digit. 

He watched in awe as your eyes began to grow glassy, and your gaze softened. All it took was his thumb in your mouth to turn you pliant. He smiled fondly, his eyes twinkling. 

And what beautiful eyes they were. You gazed up into them, so clear and blue, but somehow dark in the lowlight, as if the bright blue had turned brown. You could feel the tension leaving your body as you suckled on his thumb. The taste of his skin was familiar and soothing. 

“Poor thing. Just needed to shut your brain off for a bit, huh?” He murmured. 

“Mhm,” you hummed around his thumb. 

“I’ve got you. Don’t have to do any thinking with me. I’ll do it all for you.”

You liked the sound of that. You could let go of the stressors. Your circumstances. Your position as daughter of the President of the United States. Your political commitments. All of it could be forgotten, if only for a little while. 

So you gave yourself to him. To your Bobby. You let him take care of you, because he knew what was best at that moment in time. 

“C’mere,” he said. He took a seat on the bed, his back leaning against the headboard. As you scrambled over to him, he caught you, pulling you into his lap so that you were straddling him. His hands rested at your hips. Your own fell to his broad shoulders. The muscles rippled beneath your touch. 

With your body slotted against his like this, you felt so warm and secure. Like you were meant to fit together. In the warm glow of the lamp, and in the softness of the bed, it all felt so domestic. As if you truly were husband and wife, living in your little cabin in the woods. 

And then your mind began to wander, and you considered what it might be like if he truly was your husband. If you were allowed to live out your relationship without fear of being found out. 

You wanted that, you realized. You wanted it so badly. But you couldn’t have it. Not yet. So instead, you played pretend. You dove forward, connecting your lips with his, kissing him deeply, pouring all the passion you had into it. And he kissed you back with just as much fervor. 

Your hands moved from his shoulders to rest upon the sides of his neck. Your fingers slipped through the hair at the nape of his neck, nails ever so lightly scraping at the skin, making him shiver against you and moan into your mouth. 

You rotated your hips downward in the process, and he gasped, his grip tightening on your waist. So you moved your hips again. And again. Soon, you were rutting against him, searching out that delicious friction. The seam of your shorts caught against you in just the right place, and the stimulation had his cock hardening beneath you. 

He let his head thunk back against the headboard, biting his lip and closing his eyes. “Oh, just like that, honey,” he encouraged, breathless. 

“Feels so good,” you whined. 

“I know. Been too long, hasn’t it?” he cooed, bringing you closer so your forehead was pressed to his. 

“H-how long?” you wondered, shivering as he lifted his hips to meet your own. 

He remembered. Of course he did. “Last month. When you visited that one university.”

Oh, yes. Now you remembered. You’d really gone an entire month without touching him? No wonder you ached so terribly inside. You needed him. 

“Bobby,” you whimpered then. 

“I know, baby. I know.”

He was kissing you again, except this time, he rotated you, gently easing you onto the bed so he could hover over you. Then he began the reverent undressing of your body. He pulled your shirt over your head, leaving a kiss against your clavicle as he easily rid you of your undergarments. Then came your shorts and panties, tossed aside carelessly. 

This left you entirely bare to him, and oh, how naked you felt. But he distracted you from any trepidation you felt. He took your hands in his own, lifting them to his shirt, prompting you to unbutton it. Those big hands hovered over yours as you did, there to help if you were trembling too much to do it. 

In no time, the shirt was unbuttoned, and he tossed it to the floor before he made quick work of removing his white undershirt. Immediately, your hands splayed across his chest. Well-defined because he worked his ass off staying fit. His job was not for the faint of heart or body. He had to stay on top of his game. 

“If ya can stop ogling my chest for a minute, I’ll get my pants off,” he teased. 

You looked up at him before turning your head away shyly. He couldn’t help but hum in gentle amusement. You were just the most precious thing. 

Quickly, he shoved his pants and boxers down his legs, kicking them asunder, leaving you both naked as the day you were born. As soon as his body was slotted against yours, you sighed in deep relief. Finally. 

His mouth was on yours again, and his arms were at either side of your head, effectively caging you in. He overwhelmed your every sense, and it was glorious. In such close proximity, you could smell his cologne, and that natural, heady scent that could only be described as him. 

“Pretty girl,” he whispered in awe, his mouth trailing down your jaw, across your neck, over your collarbone. Reverence. Worship. 

As he kissed your heated skin, he moved to slip his hand between your thighs. Deft fingers tenderly parted your delicate folds, prodding at your entrance. First one finger, slid in deep. Then two. You whined into his mouth as he crooked those fingers upward, intent on locating that spongey little spot that made you shiver. 

It didn’t take him long. He knew your body so well. Knew exactly what to do to have you purring for him. You were so responsive to his touch as it was. 

“Gotta open you up for me, lovey,” he soothed. “Been a while since you took all of me.” 

Those fingers pumped in and out of you, and his thumb came up to swirl around your clit as he did so. You were oversensitive. Not only had you not been touched by him in over a month, but you hadn’t touched yourself, either. You’d hardly had any downtime, and when you did, you spent it resting. Now, you were so pent up that Bob’s gentle stimulation of your neglected pussy was already beginning to overwhelm you. 

In the meantime, he continued to trail searing kisses across your skin. Over the softness of your breasts. Teeth gently tugging at your pebbled nipples. Tongue soothing the sting. 

In the meantime, you grew wetter around his fingers, your body opening up to him, welcoming him in. And then he added a third finger, and you squealed, jolting against him. You felt his mouth curl into a smile against you.

Then he lifted his head to gaze down at the way your cunt stretched around those fingers. “Oh, look at this sweet little pussy. My fingers barely fit. I don’t know if it’ll be able to take my cock.”

He was teasing you. But in your hazy state, you took him seriously. “No! No, I can take it! Please, I need it!” You gasped. 

This prompted him to place his thumb in your mouth again. “Shh, I know. I’m gonna give it to you, I promise.” A gentle kiss to your lips before he leaned back. He removed his fingers from you, and you watched as he used the slick of your arousal as lubricant for his cock, smearing it over the velvety skin. You whimpered at the sight. 

You so desperately needed that cock inside you. Thick and heavy, with a blushed tip that was dripping with his own desire. You found yourself reaching for it, wrapping your fingers around him, longing to feel the heaviness in your hand. 

He gasped softly as your grip tightened and your thumb brushed over that pretty pink head, gathering the wetness that had gathered at the slit. You found yourself salivating, suddenly wishing he was in your mouth, warm on your tongue. But at the same time, you wanted to be filled by him so badly. It made you ache. 

Gently, he lifted your hand away, replacing it with his own. He slid the underside of his cock through your slick, and you both moaned lowly when the plush head caught at your clit. Again, he thrust his hips forward, teasing you. When he pulled back, he positioned himself at your entrance, slipping in only ever so slightly, enough to pull a desirous whine from you before he pulled back. 

“D-don’t tease,” you squeaked out. 

“I know. Just tryin’ to savor it. Might not get to do this again for a while.”

You pulled him down, kissing him deeply. “Don’t think about that right now. Just fuck me, Bobby. Please.”

“Uh-huh.” With his mouth open against your own, he finally inched his hips forward, moving so his arms were at either side of your head again, and his chest was pressed to yours. Forward, forward, forward, until…

“Oh!”

He was fully sheathed inside you, every last inch. It was the thickness that took your breath away. He felt so big, yet at the same time, it felt as if he was made to fit inside you in this way. You would never tire of the feeling of his body connected to yours. 

Bob couldn’t help but glance down, marveling at the way you stretched around him. He allowed himself a moment to bask in the feeling of the snug warmth. He had missed it so much. Missed you so much. “I love you,” he said with conviction. It warmed you to your core.

“Love you too,” you sighed out blissfully, eyes fluttering shut as you wrapped your legs around his waist, and your arms around those broad shoulders of his.

His hand caressed your face as he began to move, nudging his hips into yours. He kept things slow to begin with, intending to build up to a glorious crescendo. All the while, he held you close, resting his weight upon your body, grounding you, surrounding you. He cherished it all. The feeling of your warmth, the beating of your heart. A reminder that you were safe, that you were alive, that you were here, with him.

His mouth found its way to yours again, trailing down further to lave his tongue against your pulse point. “You are everything to me,” he breathed against your feverish skin. You were his life, his love, his angel.

You couldn’t speak, for you were too overwhelmed. Your heart sang, and the true reason for being here in thise safe house seemed to fade into the background as white noise. Your Bobby was on the forefront, infiltrating every one of your senses, wrapping you up in his love and adoration. You never wanted it to end.

As he began to quicken his pace, you held onto him tightly, every inch of your bodies touching, warm and familiar, safe and secure. You let yourself be vulnerable, let him chip away at the armor you always protected herself with. Oh, how good it felt to let him be your protector. He encased you in his warmth, and that warmth began to radiate throughout your body, thrumming deep within your belly. He kissed yu repeatedly, lips ever brushing against yours, swallowing your precious whimpers and moans, holding onto those sounds, locking them away in his memory.

In the back of his mind, he partly wondered if this would be the last time you were able to make love to each other. What if he slipped up and was dismissed from his duties, effectively barring him from ever being with you again? He hated that his mind went to such a morbid place, but it was hard to ignore.

But then you were drawing him in again with those soft sounds, sighing out his name, and your sweet pussy was fluttering around him, and he was brought back to the present moment. How could he let himself be anywhere else but here, with you in his arms? How could he let himself be distracted when the love of his life sighed and shivered in pleasure beneath him? Because of him?

“Feel so good,” you squeaked. Your eyes were closed, your brow furrowed in utter bliss. You looked rather adorable this way. He was so in love.

You were so wet, and he realized that you were quickly growing wetter by the minute. He could feel you dripping down against his heavy balls, and onto the bed covers below, and it only urged him to change his pace. You tightened your legs around his waist, inviting him deeper inside. As he thrust particularly deeply into you, you cried out softly. He’d bumped into that wonderful spot within you, sending you tightening around him, arousal slicking down the base of his cock. 

“Oh, right there!” You exclaimed, fingernails pressing crescent shapes into the skin of his back. He ducked a hand between you then, stimulating your sensitive little clit in such a way that your eyes rolled back, mouth falling open. The way you clenched around him again had him growling lowly, the heat of impending release already beginning to warm in his pelvis. How was he already so close? And then he remembered how long it had been since he’d had you like this, and it made sense.

He applied more pressure with his fingers, driving his hips forward with more force. He was hit with a sudden wave of desperation, wanting, needing you to come before he did. He’d stave off his own pleasure for as long as possible if it meant making you feel good. Beneath him, you were on fire, arousal rushing through your very being like raw electricity, consuming every part of you in its wake. And you let yourself be swallowed up in the feeling, suddenly overcome with intense emotion as tears began sliding down your cheeks. 

Bob cradled you against his chest, though he didn’t slow down. You needed him to keep going, and he wasn’t going to stop until you fell apart. And it was so close you could taste it, building and building and building. A vibration that began in your core, a peak that you were hurtling towards but couldn’t quite reach yet. It was a height that only your lover could bring you to. 

Sweet, tender love making turned into something so much more primal. His chest heaved against yours, and he growled deeply, teeth nipping at your bottom lip as he kissed you. Warmth blossomed between you both, growing into a wild flame. Your bodies fell into a desperate push and pull, faster and harder and deeper, chasing the pleasure high that you knew was inevitable. 

He could feel you tighten around him like a vice, and he knew you were close. He let his forehead rest against yours, though he never stopped his movements. “You’re close, I can feel it,” he spoke in a broken whisper. 

“I-I am,” you whimpered pathetically, clinging to him tightly. 

“Then come for me, my love. Just let go.”

He continued to work you over, carrying you toward that edge. You trembled fiercely, breathing labored, growing even more so. Pleasure began to fizz through you like a firework brought to life, or a pack of Pop Rocks sprinkled on the tongue. Starting at your core and bubbling all the way to your fingers and toes. 

Your body went taut against his as the first waves of it began to hit you. Almost there, almost there, almost there. And then, without warning, it hit you. Washing over you like an enormous wave, intense as could be. Seconds later, you came with a wail, convulsing beneath him as the fire of your orgasm ravaged you, surging through the entirety of your being. You cried out his name, and he was there, holding you in his arms as he watched you come apart, losing yourself because of him. 

And as you came down, you sobbed. You buried your face against his chest, crying openly, still wrapped tightly around him. And he let you cry, keeping you close. But he also needed to find his own release, you realized. Even in your state of emotion, she pulled back a little, looking into his face. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were blown, but there was still a tenderness in his gaze. He wouldn’t pressure you for more if you weren’t ready to move on yet.

“P-please, Bobby. Wan’ you to come in me.”

How could he ever say no when you asked so sweetly?

Satisfied with your plea, he began moving again, finding the rhythm that he needed to bring himself to his end. “Yeah? Want me to fill you up, lovey?” He breathlessly spoke. 

Glassy eyed, you nodded, bottom lip quivering. “Need it so bad,” you begged. 

His face contorted into a look of beautiful euphoria. His jaw went slack, his eyes fell shut, and he let his head fall to the crook of your neck as the climax began to overwhelm him entirely. It washed over him with great force, rendering him absolutely boneless as he keened, your name falling from his lips in a soft whimper. Beneath him, you relished in the feeling of his essence seeping into you, even as tears continued to stain your cheeks. 

His hips stuttered a few more times against yours as he made sure to fill you with everything he had to give. And as he came down, trying to catch his breath, you made no move to part from one another.

There you lay, holding each other, basking in the afterglow as the weight of his body settled atop yours. When your tears ceased, Bob very carefully slid out of you, soothing your mewl of protest with an open-mouthed kiss. As he moved to rest upon his back, he tucked you into his side, and you rested your head on his chest, right over his still racing heart. 

Gentle fingers traced circles along your arm. You hadn’t realized that you’d zoned out a little, still drunk off pleasure, until his touch brought it back down to earth. 

You placed your hand against his chest, eyeing the rise and fall of each breath he took. For a while, neither of you said anything. And when the silence finally did break, it was Bob who broke it. 

“Need to get you cleaned up, lovey. Can’t let you fall asleep like this.” 

Despite your murmur of protest, he gathered you into his arms and carried you out of the bedroom and into the bathroom just a few feet away. 

You were so sleepy, it seemed that the events of the day were finally catching up with you, paired with the romp in the sheets you’d just gone on with Bob. You were in a haze as he tenderly cleaned you up and urged you to use the restroom. 

“I’ve got you,” his low, comforting voice assured you. You could allow yourself to remain in that hazy state, because you knew he would take care of you. He always did. 

He led you back to the bedroom, where he helped you change into the pajamas you had brought. Once you were taken care of, he tucked you into bed and kissed you on the forehead before he proceeded to ready himself for bed. A shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Easy, in case he needed to jump out of bed and tend to a threat in the middle of the night. 

Then he slipped into bed beside you, and you immediately snuggled into him, content to be in his arms, enjoying his warmth. You would cherish every last moment you had with him. Safe and secure, your head on his chest, listening to the steady thumping of his heart. Oh, how you loved him. 

You were lulled into a deep, comforting slumber. In fact, it was the best sleep you’d gotten in weeks. Just his presence alone gave you rest. 

But while you slept peacefully, Bob remained awake. He couldn’t sleep, not when he had to watch over you. He was tempted to get up and do a perimeter sweep outside, just to make sure everything was safe. But you were sleeping so peacefully in his arms that he didn’t want to disturb you. 

At some point during the night, he did drift off into a light slumber, still partially alert, always ready to address danger, should it come knocking on the door. 

And, unfortunately, it did. 

At around 0400 hours, Bob was alerted to movement outside. It wasn’t loud. But there was a strange rustling in the woods, and the snapping of twigs. Instantly, his eyes were open, and he held his breath, hoping he’d just dreamt the sounds. But then he heard it again, and his heart seized in his chest. 

Without hesitation, he eased you out of his arms, and you remained sleeping while he slipped out of bed, grabbing his gun from the nightstand and rushing to put his earpiece back in his ear so he could communicate with White House security if need be. 

There were no windows in the bedroom, so he quickly and quietly scrambled to the front of the house, where he stopped at the window and discreetly lifted the edge of the curtain to peer outside. Sure enough, he saw two figures dressed in black gear approaching from the tree line. 

And that’s when he realized one of them was already at the door, working on the security keypad. Bob knew, in that moment, that he should have trusted his gut feeling from the beginning. Where the hell had Agent Simpson sent the two of you? Because there was no way this was a safe house if it was this easy to get into.

But there was no time to debate the security of the house. Danger was right on the doorstep, and his first priority was protecting you. So he sprang into action, rushing back to the bedroom where you slept peacefully. 

“Safe house is compromised,” he reported into his mic, just before he leaned down to shake you awake. 

“Copy. Get into the bunker. Sending backup now,” Simpson’s voice crackled to life in his ear.

Bob didn’t reply. He was too focused on waking you. “Hey, hey, need you to wake up for me, honey.” He shook you vigorously until you stirred from your slumber.

You stared up at him in confusion, your eyes bleary. “Bobby? Wha-?”

“No time. Get up, we need to get under the house now. They found us.”

That woke you up. Your eyes widened, and you sat upright, throwing the covers from your body as you swung your legs over the side of the bed. “How?!”

“I don’t know! Just come with me!” He yanked you to your feet, hands tight on your arms, catching you when you stumbled. 

Adrenaline coursed through you, wiping away the sleep-induced fog that had been cast over your brain. Bob’s remained closed firmly around your wrist and he pulled you after him out of the bedroom, intending to take you down into the bunker. But in a split second, he stopped abruptly, and you ran into his back with a surprised gasp.

He could only just catch sight of the door coming open. There was no time to make it to the trap door that would lead you to safety beneath the house. Going for it would result in the two of you being spotted and killed instantly. He had a split second to make a decision. This was life or death.

He whirled around, and in the darkness, you could see the wildness in his eyes, and it sent an icy shock of terror through you. Without a word, he clamped his hand over your mouth, silencing you before he pushed you back toward the bedroom.

Your heart pounded against your chest, your entire body trembling with fear as he released you and turned to shut the bedroom door silently. Thank God there was a lock on it, which he promptly turned, careful to do it silently. Then he whirled back around to face you. “Get under the bed. No matter what happens, you do not come out unless I tell you to.” His voice was so low it was barely audible, but you heard every word. And then, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whispered, your eyes filled with tears. You didn’t hesitate to follow his instructions, sinking to your knees and maneuvering your body underneath the bed. Bob yanked the covers down so they were hanging from the edge of the mattress, effectively obscuring you from view. It was only a temporary solution, but it would do.

Then, his hand closed around the cool metal of his gun, which he pulled from his waistband and positioned himself a few feet away from the door, weapon drawn, hands steady as he flipped the safety off. He could hear Simpson’s voice in his earpiece, asking for confirmation that the two of you had made it down into the bunker. But Bob couldn’t answer. Silence was what was going to keep you alive at the moment.

He placed his finger against the trigger, ready to pull it at any second. Whoever was on the other side of the door was quiet, but he could still hear them. Creeping closer and closer, inch by inch. And then, the doorknob rattled, and Bob felt his breath catch in his throat.

You pressed your own hand over your mouth, squeezing your eyes shut. Bob’s eyes never left that door. He counted down in his head. Five. The silence was broken as the person threw their weight against the door. Four. Again, their body thudded against the door. Three. Two steps backward. Two. Bob realized what was about to happen. One. He threw his body to the side just as the sound of a gunshot rang through the house. Wood splintered. Smoke curled through the air. 

Bob had moved aside just in time. A second too late and he would be suffering from a gunshot wound. But just as quickly as he moved, his gun was in the air again, held steadily in front of him. As soon as he had the assailant in his sights, he fired. 

Beneath the bed, your hands came up to your ears, protecting them from the awful sound. You couldn’t see around the quilt obscuring your vision. You prayed silently that Bob was unharmed. And he was. He’d just put one perpetrator down. You’d heard the thud of the body hitting the floor. 

But he had no idea how many more there were. 

He would soon find out.

Seconds later, more footsteps. Bob fired. But the second man was expecting it, and kept his body partially hidden by the doorway as he lifted his rifle and aimed it at Bob. The secret service agent ducked quickly, firing his own weapon in retaliation. 

He put up a good fight. Really, he did. Bob had always been seen as a pacifist, and by nature, he was. But that didn’t mean he shied away from a fight. And when he did have to utilize physical force, there was a calculated tenacity with which he fought. He was a worthy opponent. 

He disarmed the second man quickly. Grazed his cheek with a bullet and used that split-second distraction to dive for the gun that belonged to the dead man on the floor. But then, a voice stopped him. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Bob looked up to find three men pointing rifles at his head. He was cornered. 

“Drop the fuckin’ weapon.”

He did. He was severely outnumbered. If he tried anything, he’d be shot dead on the spot. That would leave you entirely vulnerable and alone. 

The one in the middle stepped forward. He was tall. Dark hair. Beard. couldn’t have been much older than Bob himself. Dark eyes stared murderously at the agent kneeling on the ground. He never lowered his rifle. 

“We’re just here for the girl. Tell us where she is.”

“She’s not here,” Bob lied through his teeth.

“That’s bullshit and you know it. We staked you out. We know you brought her here. Now where is she, huh?” Then, he called out into the room in a singsong voice that made your skin crawl, “come out, come out wherever you are!”

“She’s not going to come out, because she’s not here!”

The stranger rolled his eyes. “Alright, then you won’t mind if I fire a couple of precautionary shots, right? Just to make doubly sure?” He aimed his gun at the bed you were currently stowed beneath. 

Bob’s stomach dropped. “Hey, there’s no reason to waste ammunition on–”

“Ah! So she is here!”

And just like that, it all fell apart.

One of the assailants forced Bob into a prone position on the floor, his gun pressed to the back of his head. He reached down and ripped Bob’s earpiece out of his ear, tossing it to the hardwood floor and stomping on it, effectively cutting off any and all communication with The White House. And then, Bob watched helplessly as you were dragged from beneath the bed, kicking and screaming. 

And all he could think, was that he’d failed you. 

“Bobby!” You wailed.

“Hey! What is it that you want, huh?! Money?! We’ll give it to you, I can make a call to Washington, get it wired to–”

“Shut your goddamn mouth,” the man above him snarled, smacking him square in the back of the head with the butt of his rifle. Bob’s vision went white as searing pain radiated through his skull. 

“It’s not about money,” said the one who had wrestled you from beneath the bed. “It’s about sending a message to her daddy.”

You whimpered in fright as he grabbed your face, squeezing your cheeks hard. His expression was full of hatred. It chilled you to your very core. “We’ll make him wish he’d never taken office.”

“Let her go!” Bob cried desperately from the floor, though he was in no position to be making demands.

“No, I don’t think we will.” The man began to haul you out of the room, his hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your screams. He glanced at the one standing over Bob. “Make sure he can’t follow us.” 

As you were dragged into the hall, you heard the sound of a single shot ring out, and you sobbed behind the hand pressed to your mouth. No!

But Bob wasn’t dead. He was very much alive, his teeth clenched so hard he was sure he would break them, letting out a muffled, tormented scream behind them. White hot pain traveled up his thigh, and with it, a violent sense of nausea overwhelmed him. His assailant had shot him in the leg. 

And then he was left alone in that bedroom, helpless to do anything as you were carried away, putting up a fight despite being overpowered. Crying out in absolute agony, Bob fought to drag himself upright, though his head spun and his leg throbbed wickedly. He had to stop them. Had to get to you. 

It took every ounce of strength in his being to pull himself upright, but by that time, it was too late. They had taken you outside. He’d never reach you in time. After everything he had done to keep you safe, he had lost you in the end. He would never forgive himself as long as he lived. 

But then, hope. 

All of the sudden, the sound of a helicopter approaching could be heart, and not long after, blinding white light shone through the front door. Moments later, a magnified voice called out, “Homeland Security! We have you surrounded!”

What happened next was a blur. There was shouting. So much shouting. Outside, you were blinded by the lights, reaching your hands up to shield your eyes. The sounds around you were deafening. Someone fired a shot. Then another. Hands grabbed at you. You had no idea who they belonged to. But they pulled you away from the men who had taken you, guiding you to the sidelines, away from the danger. 

But you didn’t want to go to the sidelines. You wanted to run back to your Bobby. “Let go! I need to see if Bobby’s alright!”

“Miss, we can send someone to check on him, right now I need you to—”

“No! They shot him! I have to know that he’s okay!”

You argued back and forth for a moment before you got the drop on the agent trying to restrain you. You threw your weight downwards and she released you out of surprise. You didn’t feel bad when you elbowed your way past her. You probably should have, because after all, she was just trying to do her job. But nothing else mattered to you in that moment than knowing Bob’s fate. If he was dying, you needed to be by his side to say goodbye. You weren’t about to miss your last chance to be with him.

So you made a dash for the house, ducking back inside, frantic. 

“Bobby!” You cried out, scrambling toward the bedroom. Sickening dread coursed through you. What were you about to walk in on? Would you find the love of your life dead on the ground? 

But then, you heard it. “I-in here!”

As soon as you burst into the room, you saw him. He’d tried to stand, but had crumpled to the ground in severe pain, and was now leaning back against the side of the bed, injured leg stretched out in front of him. 

“Oh dear God.” You rushed to his aid, dropping to your knees beside him. “I’m here! I’m right here!”

His pant leg was soaked with crimson, and he’d placed his hand over the wound, in effort to slow the bleeding. “I-I’m okay,” he assured you, gazing into your frightened face. “Can you get my belt for me? It’s on the floor on the other side of the bed.” It sounded as if it took great labor for him to get the words out. 

You didn’t hesitate. You jumped up and ran around to the other side of the bed, grabbing his belt. As soon as you handed it to him, he got to work tightening it around his thigh as a makeshift tourniquet. 

Voices could be heard out in the main room of the cabin. You knew that you would soon be separated. It sent a terrible wave of dread through you, and you reached for Bob. 

“Bobby,” you tearfully spoke. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he assured you, his tourniquet finished. His clean hand came up to cup your cheek. “You’ll be in good hands. I’ll see you again real soon.”

“But I don’t—”

“Honey, listen to me. Need you to be my brave girl, okay? I can’t go with you. They’re gonna take me to the hospital. And after that there’s a whole protocol I have to go through. But those agents out there, they’ll get you to safety. I promise you.”

Weeping, you wrapped your arms around his neck once more before you pulled back, just as none other than Agent Simpson walked into the room, his gun drawn. 

Bob protectively placed an arm in front of you. “It’s all clear!” He called out. The assailant on the floor a few feet away from you both had long since been dead and did not pose a threat. Simpson still turned him over with his foot just to make absolutely certain that he was dead. 

Beau approached you, kneeling so that he was eye level with you. His expression was neutral, but there was sympathy in his eyes. “I need you to come with me. I’ll see to it that you get back home safely. The threat to your life has been neutralized.”

“Agent Simpson, he’s been shot,” you whimpered, motioning to Bob. 

“I see it. I’ve got a medic chopper on the way. We’ll transport him to the hospital. Right now, you’ve got two parents who are worried sick about you. Let’s get you back to them.”

“But—”

“Go with him,” Bob gently coaxed. “There’s nothing else you can do for me here. I’ll be fine.”

You gazed into his face, tears blurring your vision. “O-okay,” you whispered. 

You wanted so badly to kiss him goodbye. But even now, you were hyper aware of Simpson’s presence and you knew you couldn’t openly show romantic affection to Bob in front of him. 

So you allowed Agent Simpson to escort you from the room. You cast one more glance over your shoulder at your injured lover, before you finally left him behind. It felt like your heart was being torn in two. You longed to stay by his side, to board that medical helicopter with him and wait at the hospital while they tended to his injury. 

But you supposed you did have one thing to be grateful for. At least he wasn’t dead. 

As you were led outside, the early morning light was just beginning to peek over the horizon. It illuminated the carnage that had taken place. You gasped as you realized that the three remaining men who had tried to take you were dead. But there were others. Others you hadn’t seen. They were in custody, ready to be taken in for questioning. In one night, Homeland Security had succeeded in taking down a homegrown terrorist organization. 

But that begged the question: why on earth had they been after you? It didn’t matter, because no one would answer your question, anyway. 

You were led to a waiting car, where you realized Bradley Bradshaw and Natasha Trace were waiting for you. After what you had been through, you were relieved to see them. 

“Hey kid,” Bradley greeted you. 

“I sure am glad to see you,” you breathed. 

“We’re glad to see you, too,” Natasha replied. 

Bradley opened the door, and Nat slid into the seat first before you took your place in the middle, while he brought up the rear and closed the door behind him. 

Javy Machado, who was driving, glanced back at you. “Good to see you safe and sound,” he said with a small smile. 

You didn’t feel safe and sound. You felt harrowed and anxious. 

The entire drive to The White House, you didn’t say a word. You stared out the window and fought to hold back your tears. What had gone wrong? How had those men found you? It seemed too easy. As if you and Bob had been nothing more than sitting ducks. 

You were fortunate that all he had sustained was a shot to the leg. And you were even more fortunate that you had not been physically harmed. You were more emotionally scarred than anything. You weren’t sure how long it would take you to recover, but you knew you needed time. And most of all, you needed Bob. 

But that was out of the question. 

Instead, you had to hold your head high as you climbed out of the car once you had arrived at The White House. Waiting for you were Jake, Reuben, and Mickey. They reported your safe arrival through their mics, and then carefully led you into the building.

“Glad you’re home safe,” Jake softly told you.

You didn’t say a word. You couldn’t muster one. You were already steeling yourself for being reunited with your parents. You knew your mother would be teetering toward hysterics, and your father would likely be stoic, as he often was. You loved them, but you were overwhelmed.

Your mind was elsewhere, longing for your Bobby.

Meanwhile, he was just arriving at the hospital, where a team of medical personnel had already been warned of his arrival. He was a little delirious from the blood loss and the pain, but he could hear the terms they were throwing back and forth. 

They were going to operate immediately. 

“Agent Floyd?” A woman’s voice filled his ears. She was strawberry blonde, with kind blue eyes that reminded him of his mother’s. “I’m Doctor Vitarella. We’re gonna get this bullet outta you as fast as we can, alright?”

He mumbled something in reply, but his tongue felt heavy in his mouth. Then an oxygen mask was placed over his face, and he found himself slipping into a dark and dreamless slumber. The first thing he noticed when he woke a few hours later was the cast.

As consciousness washed over him, he gazed down at it, stretching from his foot to the top of his thigh. Still groggy, he glanced around the room, and saw a nurse walking into the room with a clipboard in hand. She looked up and realized that he was awake. 

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Mr. Floyd,” she said with a smile. “I’ll go get the doctor. She’ll want to talk to you.”

She scurried away before he could say anything. About five minutes later, the woman he vaguely remembered as Doctor Vitarella walked into the room. “You, sir, gave me a run for my money in the operating room,” she said.

Bob looked at her confusedly, still not fully out of his anesthesia-induced haze. 

“When the bullet entered your leg, it fractured your femur. I inserted a rod into your leg to provide solid support to the bone. But you should know that the second it came in contact with the bone, the bullet broke into a bunch of tiny little pieces. My team and I did the best that we could, but I must inform you that there are still leftover fragments in your leg. I could not get those out without causing more damage.”

As he mulled over her words, Bob only had one question. “Will I be able to use my leg again?”

“With proper physical therapy, yes. But you’ll likely live with lasting pain. I wish I had a better prognosis for you, but what matters is that we stopped the bleeding and set the bone.”

He nodded solemnly. There were still bullet fragments in his body. A constant reminder of what he had been through. He felt as if he hadn’t let it fully sink in yet. Everything had been such a blur. Being carried on a stretcher out of the safe house because he couldn’t walk. Being placed into a helicopter and then rushed into the hospital.

And now here he was, on his back in a hospital bed, his leg aching something fierce. No, not aching. Throbbing. As the fog began to clear from his brain, the pain set in, and he groaned softly. His head was pounding. His leg hurt enough to prompt him to clench his teeth.  “Could I get some, uh, pain meds?” He asked.

“I’ll have the nurse bring you some.”

A while later, he had been given his medicine, but it just barely took the edge off the pain. There was no distraction from it. He didn’t want to watch whatever mindless show that was playing on the television. He didn’t have his phone to scroll through. He had nothing. The only thing that made it even slightly bearable was the thought of you. 

He wondered how you were faring. He wondered if you even knew of his condition. Had anyone updated you? He imagined that you were demanding to know how he was. 

And you were. You had informed Agent Simpson yourself that you wanted a report of Bob’s health. You had to know that he was okay. Thankfully, as soon as Beau knew something, he called you right away.

“He’s gonna be okay, kid,” he said, “bullet fractured his femur, and they put him in a cast. But he’s gonna be okay.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, thanked Beau for the update, and hung up the phone. Seconds later, you burst into tears. Your Bobby was going to be okay.

But his worries were far from over. 

He was given a couple days to rest, but on his third day in the hospital, Agent Simpson walked through the door of his hospital room, and he knew it had begun. 

“How are you feeling?” He asked, making courteous small talk. 

“Like hell,” Bob muttered in reply. 

Beau nodded. “Sorry to hear that.” And then, he brandished a folder from a briefcase. “I hate to jump right into business, but…I have no other choice.” He pulled up a chair and sat at Bob’s bedside. “There are a few things I need to clear up.”

“Go ahead.”

“First and foremost, why did you not utilize the bunker beneath the house? The two of you were sitting ducks where you were.”

Bob stared at his superior. “I tried. But they were in the house before I could get her there. So I hid her under the bed.”

“And why were you not aware of the threat before then? Did you not do a thorough enough perimeter sweep?”

His tone was slightly accusatory. At least, Bob took it as such. His eyes narrowed. “No disrespect, sir, but what the hell kind of safe house was that? They never should have been able to breach it that easily.” He paused for a beat, awaiting an explanation.

“I think you might already know the answer to that, agent.”

“It wasn’t a safe house at all, was it?”

Beau sighed, shaking his head. “No, it wasn’t.”

Now Bob was angry. “Y’know, my gut told me that something wasn’t right, and I just brushed it off. But I should’ve listened. You used her as bait, didn’t you? And I went right along with it like a fool.”

“Floyd, this was a tricky situation we were dealing with here. We’ve been tracking this group for months. Our only chance at luring them out was to use her as a decoy. By doing that, we in turn saved her life.”

“How is that any better?! You can’t just use someone as live bait!”

“I didn’t like doing it either, in fact it was my absolute last resort. But it worked, didn’t it? President’s daughter is safe and sound. Terrorist group has been disbanded. We have the few remaining ones in custody. It’s over. The threat to her life and our government has been neutralized.”

“And what if it didn’t work? What if she’d been killed?”

“But she wasn’t. There’s no use thinking about the what ifs. What’s done is done.”

“Does she know she was used as bait?”

Simpson shook his head, his gaze hard. “No. And it’s going to stay that way.”

Several moments of silence passed. Bob processed what he’d just been told. This entire time, he had tried so hard to keep you safe. Tried so hard to keep the danger away. And yet, the danger had still found you, all because the very administration he worked for had led them right to you. 

A sick feeling churned in his gut. He felt dirty. He hadn’t been protecting you at all. He’d been offering you up to the very men who were after you, and he didn’t even know it. 

“What did the president think about his daughter being used to lure her potential killers in?” His tone was bitter. He couldn’t help it. 

“He was in agreement that it was the most effective way of eliminating the threat.”

“So I was the only one who wasn’t clued in to this plan?”

The agent looked him dead in the eyes and said, “Yes, because just from my own personal assessments and observations of you as an agent, I knew you wouldn’t go along with it otherwise. And she needed to be kept entirely in the dark. It was better that way.”

Bob’s head was spinning. “So really I was just used as a pawn?”

“You have to understand that this was a matter of national security. And sometimes you have to play dirty for the sake of the greater good.” He firmly believed that this had been the most effective course of action. 

“I…I’m gonna need a minute to sit with this,” Bob continued. 

“You don’t have a minute, Bob. I’m going to need you to fill out a report about what happened. You do not say one word about what I just shared with you. Just report what you saw, how you reacted, and nothing more or less.”

“So you want me to lie.”

“Some things are meant to be confidential. This is one of those things. Just report what you witnessed, agent. I’ll handle the rest.” He placed the folder, marked CONFIDENTIAL, onto Bob’s lap. Then he clicked a pen and set it on top.

Bob stared at it. Could he really do this? His superior expected him to. The president expected him to. But his mind wandered to you, and the senseless trauma you had endured because of it. In his heart, he knew that if Agent Mitchell was still in charge, this situation would have been handled differently. He would have done everything in his power to ensure you were not used as bait.

But Pete Mitchell’s days in The White House were over. Bob had no choice but to follow the new leadership put in place. So he went along with what was being asked of him, even though it went against everything he stood for, everything he believed.

He penned a lie on that report. Described what had happened, as if he had no idea about the plot to use you to lure your attackers straight to you. He dotted every i and crossed every t. And when he was done, he shoved the file back into Beau Simpson’s hands. 

“You got what you came for. Now get out.” Bob didn’t care that he was speaking disrespectfully to a superior. It didn’t matter anymore. 

Simpson left without a word. And Bob was alone again.

That interaction changed everything for Bob. It made him question his very morals. Could he really allow himself to be part of an administration that purposely put the very members it was supposed to be protecting in harm’s way? This left him with much to consider. He had a decision to make.

He finalized that decision the day you came to visit him.

Escorted by Bradley, Jake, and Natasha, who all respectfully waited outside the room once they brought you to it, you came through the door, so eager to see the man you loved. You shut the door behind you, allowing you both some privacy.

As you took in his form, tears sprang to your eyes. His left leg was in a full cast. There was a bandage around his head from the injury he’d sustained from being hit in the head with a gun. But what mattered was that he was alive, and he was going to be okay.

“Oh, Bobby,” you whispered as you approached him, unable to keep the tears from sliding down your cheeks. 

He mustered a smile. “Hey there, sweet girl.”

You leaned down, oh so carefully wrapping your arms around him in a hug. “I’m so sorry.”

“Nothin’ to be sorry about. I’m okay.”

You pulled back, looking into his face before you lovingly stroked his cheek. He let his eyes flutter shut, relishing in your touch, so comforting and familiar. It distracted him from his pain and made him feel less alone. 

“They told me the bullet fractured your femur?” You finally found your voice a few moments later. As you spoke, you took a seat on the edge of the bed. Bob’s hand lifted to rest in your lap, and you placed your own hands over top of it. 

“Yeah. They put a pin in me. Got a bionic leg now,” he teased. But then, he grew serious. “When the bullet hit my bone, it broke into a bunch of little fragments. They took out most of them, but I’ve still got some floating around in there.”

You frowned, wiping at your tear dampened cheeks with the back of your hand. “How does that work? Will they ever be able to get them out?”

“The doc told me she couldn’t. Said it would cause more damage if she tried. So I’ll just have them inside me forever.”

Your heart broke for him. “I’m sorry they did this to you. All because you were trying to protect me.”

“Hey,” he interjected, hand moving to tip your chin up. “Don’t you ever think of blaming yourself. I’d do it again a million times over as long as it meant that you were safe. You’re what matters most to me in this world. I don’t want to live in one without you in it.”

“And I don’t want to live in one without you in it, either,” came your reply. 

His fingers wiped away your tears. There was so much he longed to say. He wanted so badly to tell you the truth. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. What good would it do? It would only bring more grief upon your shoulders. He didn’t want to cause you anymore pain than you’d already been through. 

But, with his next words, he ended up hurting you anyway. 

“I need to tell you something.”

His tone gave you pause. He was serious. “What is it?” You cautiously asked. 

“I…I’ve decided to step down from my job.”

You stared at him. “What?”

He sighed softly. “This injury’s going to have me out for months. And honestly, by the time it does heal, I just have this feeling that it won’t ever be the same again. I won’t be as effective at my job as I was before. So I’m making the decision to resign.”

But you were shaking your head, a fresh wave of tears filling your eyes. “Bobby, no. You can’t leave. I need you.”

“Sweetheart, my mind is made up.”

“Why? Because I know this isn’t just because of your leg. What happened? Did my dad threaten you?”

“No, nothing like that.”

“Then what?”

He sighed, shaking his head. How could he word it in a way that wouldn’t expose what he’d just sworn to keep secret? “I…I was asked to do something that goes against everything I believe. And I just can’t remain with this administration while knowing I was asked to do it.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion. “What—”

“That’s all I can tell you. I’m sorry.”

“Then what? You’re just going to leave? What does that mean for us?”

“We’ll figure it out. I know we will.”

You paused for a moment, looking down at your intertwined hands. More tears welled in your eyes. “I don’t want you to leave,” you whimpered. “You’re the one I feel safest with. I-I know everyone else is just as capable of looking after me but I want you, Bobby.”

It broke his heart to do this to you. And it filled him with uncertainty, too. He wasn’t sure what this would mean for your relationship. But he knew he couldn’t keep going on in secret. And he couldn’t continue to serve an administration that could potentially put you in danger again in the name of national security. 

“I don’t want to leave, either. But I have to.”

You squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry. I’m being selfish. You should be allowed to make this decision without me causing a fuss about it. Do what you feel is best. I’ll support you no matter what.”

He lovingly stroked your cheek. “That means the world to me, honey. I’m sorry to break the news to you like this, after everything you went through. But I just wanted you to know before anyone else. I haven’t even told your dad or Agent Simpson yet.”

“Well, thank you for telling me. But I don’t know what I’m gonna do with myself, not seeing you everyday. God, I’m going to miss you so much, Bobby.” Your voice wavered. You were barely holding it together.

“Hey, c’mere.” He pulled you in, wrapping his arms around you, letting you rest your head on his chest, over his heart. “We’re gonna be okay, you and me. We’ll figure it out. Somehow, some way.” He kissed the top of your head. 

You hoped he was right.

After that initial visit to the hospital, you tried to visit him as often as possible. Your security team was more than happy to tag along each day, because they loved Bob, too. And you cherished those quiet moments in that hospital room, without the eyes of the world on you.

Outside of that hospital, you had to face the public. Had to deliver statements about what happened that night in the safe house. Had to assure the American people that you were just fine, that the brave United States Secret Service and Homeland Security agents did their jobs well. Because of them, an entire domestic terrorist organization had been quashed. In America’s eyes, it was a great victory.

But you couldn’t help but feel like a spectacle. The girl who’d survived a harrowing attack on her life. You were made to relive that night over and over and over again. And finally, in the end, you’d had enough. In the following weeks, you came to terms with a lot of personal things. 

Namely, you came to terms with wanting to separate yourself from your family’s administration. You would never be able to erase the fact that you were the president’s daughter. And your life would never be normal. You would need a security detail for the rest of your life. But you were done living within the confines of The White House. 

The only time you had ever been away from it was when you were at college. After graduation, you came back to work as part of your father’s administration. But for your own sanity, you knew you needed to step down and find your own path. 

So you told your parents as much. You informed them that your mind was made up, that you were going to buy a home for yourself and live your life separate from them. You no longer wanted a foot in the door of politics. It was time to pursue your true passions.

And that was just what you did. 

You bought a house deep in Wyoming, of all places. A nice plot of land, spacious enough for owning horses or cows, and for planting a nice sized garden. It was quiet and secluded and the perfect respite after spending the last six years in The White House.

In the time leading up to your move, Bob was in the throes of physical therapy. His leg was healing well, and he was working hard to regain his strength. During those months, the two of you decided that it would be best to distance yourselves from one another, only because you did not want to raise suspicions about your relationship. You attending each one of his physical therapy sessions came across as suspicious, in your mind.

So you allowed him to focus on getting better, while you focused on starting your new life. You missed him so deeply, but your separation was only temporary. You planned to meet again, as soon as he was ready to travel, and you were situated in your new home. You also wanted the media attention on your safe house to die down.

Eventually, it did, and the world moved on to something else to panic about.

But you? You tuned it all out. You stayed out of the news, you stayed out of politics, and you tried to bring some sense of calm normalcy to your life. You no longer needed a full security detail. It was with a heavy heart that you bid farewell to a few of them, leaving only Natasha, Mickey, and Bradley as your remaining security. They helped ensure that your home was always safe, and that you were protected.

But there was still one part of your life that remained incomplete. A void that could only be filled by your Bobby.

And finally, after several months, the day came that you would be reunited. He was strong enough to travel again. He had officially resigned from his job in The White House. He returned to civilian life, and packed up the minimal amount of belongings he had, placing them in the trunk and backseat of his car.

He drove over fifteen hours just to get to you. And it was worth it to him. After not seeing you for months, all he wanted was to hold you in his arms and never let go. So he drove. And he drove. And he drove. Until finally, he was standing at your front door, his hands trembling as Natasha let him in, and informed him that you were out back, in the stable.

So he ran. Ignoring the residual ache in his bad leg, he dashed behind the house, where the stable was, and he kept going into he was standing in the wide doorway. His feet skidded against concrete and hay, and his eyes searched. There you were. Dressed in jeans, riding boots, and a t-shirt. One he recognized as an old shirt of his, which you had snagged from him in the early days of your secret relationship.

You heard him approaching. Heard his feet skid to a halt at the doorway. And your heart quickened in your chest. You turned in what felt like slow motion, your gaze falling upon the man you loved, standing at the entrance of your stable, breathless.

“Bobby,” you whispered.

You weren’t sure who moved first. But in an instant, you were both running toward each other. You met halfway, arms coming out to catch the other, to embrace the other. “You’re here! You’re really here!” Came your cry.

“I’m here.” And then he was kissing you. Arms secure around your body, lips soft and familiar. He kissed you and kissed you and kissed you. And you kissed back. Not even your mingled tears caused you to part. You didn’t want to. It was as if you were afraid this would all be a dream if you pulled away.

When you did part, he was smiling. That sweet smile that made his eyes disappear behind his cheeks. That sweet smile that made your heart sing. “Oh, I missed you!” you sobbed. 

“I missed you too, honey. So, so much.”

You embraced again. He spun you around in a circle, and you giggled musically, overjoyed. He was finally here, with you, where he belonged. After months of waiting, months of agony, months of uncertainty, he was in your arms. No longer as the head of your security detail, but as the man you loved.

“I just can’t believe this is real,” came your soft confession.

“Believe it. This couldn’t be more real,” he assured you.

You held his face in your hands. “Oh, my sweet, beautiful man. I’m never going to let you out of my sight again.”

“Good, because I’m here to stay.”

You shared several more moments in that stable, holding each other, still in disbelief that it was finally over. The years of secrecy, the sneaking around behind the scenes. You didn’t have to hide anymore. You were allowed to love each other freely and openly.

Together, you walked back to your house that night, arms around each other, swaying as you walked, happy and content and relieved. You enjoyed a wonderful dinner, just the two of you, as the three remaining members of your security team had excused themselves to their own quarters to allow you privacy.

A lot had changed in the time that you’d been apart. You told Bob all you’d been doing, and he informed you what stepping down from his job, and enduring all that physical therapy, had been like. 

He was no longer part of the secret service, and he never would be again. The fear of being found out and losing his position was no longer on the table. There were no superiors to appease. No presidents to serve. He was free to be his own man. To live his life. To love who he wanted.

To love you.

Things were not automatically perfect now that he was with you. But they were better. You would have to figure out some things. And eventually, you would have to tell your family that you were in a relationship with him. But for now, you could live in peace, if only for a brief moment in time. You were safe, on your little farm in Wyoming, with the man you loved. It was your own little slice of heaven. 

And after all the difficulty you had endured, you were more than content with that. You could figure everything else out later. For now, you would live in that domestic bliss for just a little while longer. You’d earned it, after all. 

Finally, it was your turn to live your life the way you wanted to, and not the way others dictated you should.

-

taglist (a mix of those already on the list/who might be interested):

@bradshawsbitch @sebsxphia @rhettabbotts @delopsia @milesmillergf @ohtobeleah @purelyfiction @honeymurdock @ihavealewproblem @high-speed-r @happyrebelruins @chasing-fics @roostersgirlfrxend @bradshawsbaby @whisperofsong @hangmanapologist @callsign-magnolia @callsignmedusa @withahappyrefrain @up-thereinthesky @peachystenbrough @damrlova @lovinglyeternal @laracrofted @bobfloydsbabe @nobody7102 @agentorange9595

[imhereonthekitchenfloor]

They're always talking about "this ain't my first rodeo" but they never tell you that the rite of passage to attending your first rodeo is running into your tumblr mutual while walking inside @daenerys-targaryen

[eiightysixbaby]

Can you do a little eddie and reader blurb where they went from being friends to lovers and its kinda awkward in the beginning because they both realize who they are dating 😅

AHH please this is such a cute idea!! lil awkward nervous babies 🥹 this is v short i apologize but i hope i did it justice anon 🫶🏻

this is basically just fluffy nonsense hope u enjoy <3

eddie swings open the van door, extending his arm out dramatically to let you out of the vehicle.

“and they say chivalry is dead..” you tease, hopping down onto your driveway and taking his hand.

you lead eddie to your front door, setting your milkshake down momentarily to fidget with the key in the lock. finally hearing the telltale click to let you know you’re in, you push the door open and flick on the lights.

“wanna go up to your room, sweetheart?” eddie asks and you nod, your heart fluttering in your chest, butterflies filling your stomach as he leads the way up the stairs.

you and eddie have been friends since the 7th grade, when you stopped on your walk home from school to help him rescue a baby squirrel that had fallen from a tree. you always knew eddie was special, and he knew that about you, too. your bond was like no other, completely unbreakable, the two of you basically attached at the hip. over time, your feelings got a little more complicated, but luckily eddie was in the same boat. eddie confessed his feelings for you at your last movie night together and…. long story short, the two of you find yourselves as a couple in the present day, you’d been going out officially for a few days now. and it was going great, really, eddie had just taken you out for ice cream (your first official date) and it felt so good to hold his hand in public, showing him off.

but now… well. it’s just you and him, alone at your house. just the two of you. newly dating. at your house. walking up to your bedroom. you swallow thickly as you sit across from eddie on your bed, legs criss-cross. it’s not that you’re uncomfortable around eddie, no, that couldn’t be further from the truth. it’s just that you’re not used to the whole… ‘couple’ thing, there are new boundaries to be crossed now, and your palms start to sweat the more you think about it.

eddie shifts slightly on your mattress, slurping on the last remnants of his milkshake, filling the silence. he gets up, throws the cup in the trash, sits back down. his hand finds its way to your thigh, his thumb rubbing circles on the skin. his big, sparkly brown puppy eyes are gazing into yours, and it takes your breath away for a moment. before you can process what’s happening, he’s started to lean in. to kiss you. on the lips. your best friend eddie who’s now your boyfriend eddie is about to kiss you on the lips. his lips barely ghost over yours before he’s suddenly backing away from you.

“ah, shit, I’m sorry,” he says, squeezing your thigh. “I just… is this okay? do you wanna do this? cause like, we totally don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable..” he rambles, his free hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“no! noooo, I’m not uncomfortable. I-I wanna kiss you, eddie. I mean, unless you’re uncomfortable?”

“me? oh, no. noooonono. I’m totally comfortable. I just, ah,” he pauses, looking at you for a moment, causing the two of you to burst into laughter. “god, look at us, we’re ridiculous,” he chuckles, shaking his head a little.

you bite your lip to stop your giggles, reaching out to grab eddie’s arm reassuringly.

“I really, really wanna kiss you eddie. I just, my brain is like, having way too many thoughts right now? like, I’m about to kiss my best friend, and that’s- I mean that’s crazy, right? I just can-” eddie’s lips against yours cut off your nervous babbling. your body goes weak, slumping into the kiss fully. his lips are so soft against yours, so gentle, as if he’s afraid you’d break if he kissed you any harder.

he pulls away finally, his hand moving from your thigh to cup your face.

“was that okay?” he asks, beaming at you, his cheeks flushed pink.

“yeah, ed, yeah. that was more than okay,” you sigh, pulling him back into you for more.

you only have to hype yourselves up for about twenty minutes before you take each others clothes off, and only have a few fits of adorably awkward giggles as your bodies rock gently together for the first time. progress, right?

[artistic-endchamber]

[bugsbucket]

WIP of my love Leah 💕🪴 i had such a clear vision of her throwing clay last night i had to expel it from my soul

now we render 🤗

[daenerys-targaryen]

🐮

send me a 🐮 and i will refresh my pinterest and give u my first four pics as a random moodboard

[sturnioloshacker]

awwww stop 🤭🤭 movie recs?!

- 10 things i hate about you

- the princess diaries trilogy

- mean girls (og version)

- the notebook (for if you wanna cry)

- white chicks

- the devil wears prada

- love actually

[lovebites-if]

I was wondering how would the RO's react to mc who subtly hints at RO's that they live them but they don't directly say it so at one point when mc gets super drunk they hold the RO's face and holds it close and say "MAN your a really work you know that? I've been trying to give you hints I love you on a romantic way but you don't seem to be noticing them...am I not hinting enough to you?" And mc goes back to drinking more forgetting what just happened(Thank you for answering my ask<3)

Naira/Namid- is probably just as drunk as you are, if not more, but their eyes light up like a child watching fireworks. They slide an arm, laughing merrily and squeezing you (too tightly, lacking a bit of control with their strength), “Dude— that’so, that’s so great that you think so. You’re, like,” and then N starts rambling about everything they find great about you. Maybe it’s best neither of you remember anything.

Val- scrunches up their nose ever so slightly before their expression goes back to its measured freezing cold calculation. “Humans really are... an unfortunate sight when under the influence,” Val says with slight disdain. They lean in your direction, “You mistake me. I’m not blind, you see. Just— enjoying watching you trip over yourself.” (they smirk to themself, unaware that you’ll be too wasted to remember lol)

Maureen/Marius- Their previously relaxed expression turns stiff, frozen in place, before M smiles amicably. “You know that’s not allowed,” they remind you. M drinks a sip of their own drink, they say, “But you’re not going to remember any of this, are you? Maybe you should stop drinking so much—” The topic is swiftly changed as M starts lecturing you over proper consumption of alcohol.

Devan- “Me? Work? Do you even know me?” Devan laughs cheerfully, slapping their knee. They inch closer to you with an impish grin, “Hey, but that’s really cute. And you’re so not going to remember. Look how drunk you are. So~ Guess I have to be the one reminding you tomorrow, huh? Oh no~” Devan chuckles mischievously. In your drunken haze, you manage to feel a bit afraid of what they might pull out in the morning.

Lucian/Leah- “Don’t.” Though L has drunk just as much as you, they seem completely sober (they do seem like they want to drink more after your confession), “Why? Why? I’m—” very L around you and they don’t seem to know why you’d be into that. Giving up after L sees just how drunk you are, they add, “I’m not hanging out with a human ever again.”

Cyrus- “Ah.” You see the gears in Cyrus’ brain turn, connecting the dots, giving new meanings to all the previous interactions between the two of you. Their pale cheeks seem incapable of flushing (but Cyrus’ expression looks plenty embarrassed either way) “So that’s what all of that was— Hey, stop drinking! I like you too. You have to remember this in the morning or I’ll feel like banging my head against the printer...”

???- “Cute.” They chuckle, smirk, lean back to watch you, “How about you come over, sleep, and tell me all of that again in the morning?”

[daydreaming-en-pointe]

ARYAN. ARYAN SIMHADRI MY BELOVED.

[lovingbradshawafterdark]

Omfg I love this so much Leah I’m so happy my silly idea helped with this

i bleed like a wolf | rhett abbott

part two of a curse i cannot lift

description: in which he takes back what's rightfully his

warnings: 18+ only, werewolf au, smut, p in v sex, pregnancy, perry abbott, murder, violence, blood, kidnapping, angst, allusions to torture, character death, gun violence

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

listen to the playlist here

notes: this is the third part of my 'the wolf' series! be sure to read the previous part here. access the series masterlist here

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

Rhett had no recollection of being led into the kitchen, but he soon found himself seated at the old wooden table while his mother handed him a glass of water and told him to drink. He barely registered Perry and his father, trailing in after him. 

The hand that held the glass shook. He felt like he was in the midst of an earthquake. Everything was spinning, spiraling, teetering out of control. 

The kitchen was a flurry of activity and voices. Perry wanted to head toward town to search for Amy. But Rhett was frozen, unable to move. How could he, when his entire world had just shattered to pieces around him? The thought of you being gone forever was more than he could bear. 

But unbeknownst to him, there was still a glimmer of hope. A little black wolf pup was running as fast as her little legs would take her, following the road home by muscle memory. She had to get home, had to find her father, had to find Uncle Rhett and tell him what had happened. 

However, as small as she was, It took her quite a while to get home, and by the time she crossed the entrance to the reservation, it was well past nightfall, and nearly sunrise the next day. She was panting heavily, exhausted and overheated. But she couldn’t let herself succumb to that exhaustion yet. 

She could see her grandparents’ house just up ahead. If she could just run a little more, she would make it. She would be safe. 

Back in the Abbott household, nothing had been resolved. Rhett was in some form of shock, it seemed. Cecilia had already snapped at Perry twice, telling him to get out of his brother’s face when he got antsy and demanding. 

Rhett still held the truck keys tightly in his palm. He wouldn’t let go. Even after they’d begun to dig into his flesh. Perry had even tried to wrench them out of his grasp, but Rhett was strong, and in his state of shock there was no reasoning with him. 

“Goddammit, we’ve gotta do something!” Perry exclaimed. “I can’t lose Amy too! Not after what happened to Rebecca. I can’t!”

That seemed to snap Rhett out of his limbo. His eyes narrowed, and he stared straight ahead as he broke the silence. “You can’t lose Amy too?” He spoke, his voice trembling. “You lost Rebecca because of your own fuckin’ stupidity. That was all you. And for all you know she’s probably out there still alive and well! But I just lost my…I lost…” He couldn’t get the words out. My wife and baby. 

Perry stared at his brother. He opened his mouth to reply in anger, but he was interrupted by the sound of distressed yipping at the door, followed by loud scratching against the wood. Everyone shared confused looks before Cecilia rushed forward, pushing past her sons to open the back door. 

The doorknob smacked against the wall as she let it go, and a choked gasp tore itself from her throat as she looked down, taking in the sight of a panicked little pup. She picked up on the little one’s scent, and she knew immediately that it was her granddaughter. 

“Dear God in heaven!” She exclaimed, bending to take the exhausted wolf into her arms. She turned to face the three men, who all wore shocked expressions. Rhett shot out of his seat. He knew her by scent, too. So did Royal and Perry. 

Everyone started talking at once, Perry demanding his daughter be handed to him, Rhett asking if he could talk to her, until finally, Cecilia held up a hand. “Enough! Can’t you see the poor baby is scared out of her mind?! Let me take care of her and then you can ask her questions!” She exclaimed. 

“Ma…” Rhett breathed as she walked past him. He was trembling, his eyes alight with tears. 

She paused, her face softening as she placed a gentle hand against his chest. “I know. Just let me get her settled and we’ll see if we can get ya some answers.”

He watched helplessly as his mother walked away with Amy in her arms. That little pup was the only one with answers on what had happened to you. Rhett’s only lifeline. 

Slowly, he trailed after his mother, but did not follow her up the stairs. As desperate as he was to get answers, he didn’t want to put the child through any more stress. So he lowered himself down to sit on the bottom step, and he put his head in his shaking hands, allowing himself to weep openly into his palms. 

Meanwhile, in a place not far from the wolf reservation, Luke and Billy Tillerson were just pulling into the driveway of the Tillerson Ranch. Patricia was eagerly waiting on the doorstep with a cigarette perched between her fingers. 

“Did you put the collar on her?” She called out as the boys climbed out and rounded the truck to open the bed. 

“Yeah! Hope it’s on right!” Luke called back. 

Patricia watched as her sons lifted your unconscious body out of the truck bed, a thick, metal collar fastened around your neck. As they carried you to the doorstep, she stopped them, reaching out to tug on the collar. “It’s on right. The light is green.”

“You’re sure this will keep them from being able to track her?” Billy asked curiously. 

“Your father really taught you nothing? Of course I’m sure. As soon as you put this on, he completely lost the ability to sense her. For all he knows, she’s dead. Now go ahead and get her down into the bunker. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

Luke bit back a reply at the jab at his father, and instead moved to take you down into the belly of the house. Hunting was not something he or Billy had practiced in a long time. Patricia had been the one who pushed it. After she left, Wayne didn’t continue to train them in any way. They didn’t hone their skills or learn any of the new technology being produced for hunting. 

While yes, werewolf hunting was illegal, it didn’t stop groups of people from participating in it. They’d just learned to do it discreetly to avoid detection. It was an industry that generated millions of dollars. 

Patricia was one of the best hunters in the world. She’d even had a hand in producing some of the most elite pieces of hunting equipment out there. Including the collar around your neck. 

It acted as a sort of cloaking device, interfering with the ability mates had to sense each other. As long as you wore it, it would be impossible for Rhett to find you just by sense alone. It also had a few other neat little features. Such as inhibiting one’s ability to shift. With the collar around your neck, you would not be able to shift into wolf form, at least not without experiencing excruciating pain. If you tried too hard, it might even kill you. 

But you were entirely unaware, still out cold as Luke and Billy took you beneath the house and into the old bunker that had once been used to keep hunting equipment, and, contain the occasional werewolf captive. 

You were deposited into a cell, and a chain attached to the wall was then fastened to your collar, effectively anchoring you in place. You were now a prisoner, with no chance of escape. 

—

Back at the Abbott place, the atmosphere was tense. Rhett wasn’t sure how much time had passed. He’d been crouched on those steps the entire time, raking his hands through his hair, his mind racing as he imagined all the scenarios. What had happened to you? How had Amy escaped? Was there still a chance that you were alive?

Rhett was no fool. He was smart, and part of him had a sinking feeling that this was no accident or freak occurrence. And if he had to guess, he would put the Tillersons behind this, because they were the ones with a personal vendetta. 

But he didn’t know that for sure yet, so he remained there, crouched on the steps, agonizing over the thought of harm coming to you and his unborn child. The two greatest loves of his life. 

He was nothing without you. A shell of himself. A half of a whole. Werewolves mated for life, and to lose that kind of bond? To be stripped of one’s other half? The pain was unbearable. Unfathomable. 

“Rhett.”

The voice of his mother drew his attention to the top of the stairs. Cecilia was gazing down at him, a bleak expression on her face. His heart dropped, and he stood, his legs trembling. 

“You need to come up here.”

So he did. Moving on autopilot, he took the steps two at a time. In the meantime, Perry had heard Cecilia’s voice, and he stepped out of the kitchen, eager to follow after Rhett. 

“What’s going on?” He demanded. “Is Amy okay?”

“I just need Rhett right now,” she tried to reason. 

He grabbed the railing, standing at the foot of the steps. “No! She’s my daughter, let me see her!”

“Perry, I am not asking you, I am telling you, stay down there!” She exclaimed. “You’ll see your daughter soon enough. I am not gonna stress her out more than she already is. You’ll see her one at a time, and that’s final!” 

“Ma, get outta the way,” he threatened, already up the steps, facing her, standing a head taller. But Cecilia wasn’t backing down. 

What mattered most was finding out what happened to you. She didn’t like keeping Perry from his child, but she knew he would only inflame the situation if he got involved, and Rhett was already on edge as it was. Not to mention how fragile Amy was after what she’d experienced. Cecilia didn’t want to add to her granddaughter’s stress. 

Behind her, Rhett was easing open the door to Amy’s room, and his eyes flickered around the dimly lit space, soon falling upon his niece, who had returned to her human form. She was curled up in the bed, clutching her favorite plush animal to her chest. 

When she heard him come in, she lifted her head, then moved to sit upright. “U-Uncle Rhett!” She cried. Immediately, her bright eyes filled with tears. 

Rhett hurried to her bedside, kneeling alongside it. “I’m here,” he whispered, taking both of her little hands in his own much larger one. “I’m right here.”

“I’m sorry!” She pulled her hands away to throw her arms around his neck. “I’m sorry! I-I tried to stop them! I tried to get them to let go!” She wailed. 

“Who, baby? Who?” He asked, leaning back to look into her tearful face. He lifted his hands to hold her damp cheeks. 

“Luke and Billy! They fo-followed us and then they took her away!”

He stared at her. His own eyes welled with molten tears. “Did…did they…” he could hardly bring himself to say the words. He had to force them out, and they were bitter on his tongue. “Amy, is she dead?”

“I-I don’t know!” She whimpered. “I shifted and then I hid! But I…I heard them say something about how they got what they came for.”

It was the tremor he noticed first. Wracking through the very center of his being, branching out through his extremities. His hands twitched against her face, and he pulled them away. His chest constricted, tightening like someone had just wrapped a length of rope around him and pulled it taut. 

This was what he’d suspected. But it still felt like an ice-cold dagger had been driven into his heart. It took his breath away, and he stumbled backward, away from his niece. 

His legs were moving of their own accord as he turned, yanking the bedroom door open and ambling out into the hall. He was vibrating. Heat rushing through every inch of his being. He felt as if he was outside of himself. Not of his own body. 

He found Perry still at the top of the steps, arguing with Cecilia. The eldest Abbott looked up to find his brother approaching. In the shadow of the hallway, he caught sight of the murderous glint in his eyes. 

“What have you done?” The snarl that left Rhett’s throat was inhuman. His chest heaved. His hands shook. Cecilia turned around, and when she saw Rhett’s face, her heart dropped. 

She had seen this look many times before on Perry. Raw, untamed, unchecked rage. But she had never seen it on Rhett. Not once. He was always the one who had perfect control over his wolf. Always the one that never shifted out of anger. Always the one who was very aware of his nature and kept it in check. 

Now, here he stood, his eyes glowing yellow, and she knew that this was the very first moment Rhett was going to lose control entirely. And something in her also knew there was no talking him off the ledge. She stepped out from between her sons, knowing that what was about to happen was inevitable. 

“This is all your fault,” Rhett growled low in his chest. He took one, two, three steps closer. 

“What the fuck did I–”

“I told you to confess!” He roared. “But you didn’t! You’re a fuckin’ coward!”

“I couldn’t let them take me away from Amy!”

“Oh bull-fuckin’-shit! They stole everythin’ from me because they think that I…they think that…”

Rhett couldn’t get the words out. He was too overwhelmed. His body shook, and he knew he couldn’t control it. His fists were clenched at his sides, claws drawing blood as they dug into the skin of his palms. His mouth parted as his fangs grew. His breathing was labored and animalistic. 

“He was trying to take the land from us! I did us all a favor!” Perry shot back. 

Rhett’s eyes widened. “A favor?! A favor?! You murdered him in cold blood! All because he made a comment about your wife! Who, by the way, left you because she was fuckin’ terrified of you, you abusive piece of shit!”

That line was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Perry froze, his own eyes glowing like fiery embers. Then, within a split second, both brothers were lunging at each other, the two of them tumbling down the steps in a mess of claws and fangs, growling like wild beasts. 

Cecilia was shouting. Yelling for Royal to do something, anything. Amy came running out of her room at the sound of the commotion, ignoring her grandmother’s pleas for her to go back inside, to get into bed and rest like she was supposed to. 

“No!” The little girl cried out, ducking out of Cecilia’s reach as she scrambled down the steps. “Stop! Please, stop!” Suddenly, her father and uncle were no longer men. They had both transformed into wolves, snarling and snapping, clawing at the other. 

“Please! No!” Amy was screaming, terrified that one would kill the other. Royal intervened, pulling the child away from the two animals.

“Get back upstairs!” He shouted, handing her off to Cecilia’s waiting arms. 

“Royal! Get them apart! They’ll fuckin’ kill each other!” The woman yelled as she held a struggling Amy against her chest. 

Royal turned, just as a blood-curdling yelp cut through the air as Perry’s wolf gained dominance over Rhett. Their father threw himself between the two wolves, shouting, desperately trying to keep them at bay. He knew that Perry would kill Rhett if he didn’t stop him. The wolf had already overpowered him as it was. 

Finally, after much struggle, Royal managed to wrench Perry off of Rhett, dragging the wolf across the room to put space between the two. 

“ENOUGH!” The Abbott patriarch bellowed, eyes flashing. 

Both wolves heeled. 

“I’m not gonna let you fuckin’ kill each other! Get back in your human form so we can talk about this like civil folk!”

It was Rhett who shifted back first. His human body was bloodied, crimson glistening along his neck and torso from the scrape of claws and teeth. But he would heal just fine. 

Chest heaving, he stepped back toward the stairs, where he snatched his jeans, quick to tug them back on. His shirt was too far gone, it had been torn to shreds amid his transformation and lunging at Perry. 

Rhett was still shaking, and he struggled to get his belt refastened as the tremors ran through his fingers. Across the room, Perry was still in wolf form, growling lowly at Rhett as Royal stepped in to hold the animal back. 

Rhett locked eyes with the wolf. “Quit hidin’ behind your fuckin’ wolf and face me as a man!” He snapped, voice raw. “If you think you’re gon’ kill me, you got another thing comin’.”

Finally, Perry returned to human, though he was still vibrating with rage. “I should’ve killed you!” He snarled wildly at his younger brother. 

“You’re fuckin’ insane, you know that?! We don’t kill pack members!” Rhett shouted back. Perry tried to yell something in response, but Rhett shook his head. “No, you shut your fuckin’ mouth. You’re gonna make this right, okay?! I’m takin’ you to the Tillersons right now and you’re gonna tell ‘em everything.”

Perry’s eyes widened, his face paling. “I’m not doing that! They’ll kill me!!” 

Rhett laughed incredulously. “After what you did?! I’d say it’s fuckin’ deserved! An eye for an eye! You’re the reason my mate was taken from me! So you can pay for your crime! A fair price to pay after I lost everything!”

But Perry didn’t like that. He turned to his father. “You said you’d talk him off the ledge!” He exclaimed. 

Rhett froze. His gaze flickered to Royal. “What the fuck does he mean by that?”

His father looked like a deer caught in the headlights. “I…” He started, unsure of what to say. 

A sick feeling roiled in Rhett’s gut. “You knew?! This whole time you knew he killed Trevor and you kept it a secret?!” 

“I was tryin’ to protect the pack!” Royal defended. 

“Yeah?! Well you’ve done a real bang-up job, Dad! Fantastic, really!” Rhett bitterly replied, his chest heaving, his eyes alight with tears. “Both of you are to blame for this! You’re comin’ with me to the damn Tillerson Ranch, we’re settin’ this right!”

“Son, that’s a death sentence! They’ll shoot us on sight!” 

Rhett stood there in the middle of the hallway, staring at his father. “You…you really don’t…” he couldn’t get the words out. He took a moment to breathe in deep, grounding himself so he didn’t shift again. “Th-they took my wife and baby from me. Does that mean nothing to you?!”

Both men remained dead silent, and Rhett scoffed, the sting of betrayal flashing through his chest. “I wouldn’t expect Perry to know what it’s like since Rebecca wasn’t his mate. But you should know, Dad. What if they took Ma from you?”

Royal hesitated, and then bowed his head. “I…I thought I was doin’ what was best for the pack. I was tryin’ to protect my son.”

“I’m your son too!” Rhett cried. If anything, this situation had shown him how broken his family truly was. 

He took a deep breath, letting his eyes drift shut. He knew what had to be done, and he was tired of arguing. “The three of us are goin’ to the Tillersons to sort this mess out. But first, I’m callin’ the sheriff. She needs to be involved if we’re gonna do this right.”

He didn’t give a shit if Perry and Royal didn’t like it. He had to find you. Had to know what fate you’d met. And if he truly had lost you, he would take you and give you a proper ceremonial burial, as you deserved. 

Little did he know that you were still very much alive. 

—

In the depths of the bunker beneath the Tillerson house, you were just beginning to stir from unconsciousness. You were incredibly groggy, and your limbs felt like they were filled with lead. 

The first thing you noticed was the hard concrete, cold beneath you. The second thing you noticed was the thick, restrictive collar around your neck. 

And then, it all came rushing back. You gasped sharply, scrambling to your feet, suddenly alert as your panicked eyes took in your surroundings. Metal rattled against metal, and you looked down to find that you were chained to the wall. 

“Don’t bother trying to escape,” a mellow female voice reached your ears. “That collar around your neck inhibits your abilities. You won’t be able to use your strength to get free.”

You growled, whirling around to face the woman who stood in the shadows just outside your cell. 

“Where am I?!” You demanded.

“You’re somewhere hidden. Your husband won’t be able to sense you. He has no idea where you are.”

Your eyes flashed gleaming yellow. “What do you want with me?! And where’s Amy?!”

“I don’t know who Amy is. But I do know that you’re going to tell us everything we want to know.”

You snapped at her, and she laughed. “What, are you trying to scare me? Honey, you can’t hurt me as long as you’ve got that collar on. You try to transform, it’ll probably kill you.”

That got your attention, and you drew back. You then placed a hand against your abdomen, not willing to do anything that could potentially harm your baby. 

“Luke!” The woman called out, and seconds later, he appeared in the corridor. 

“Take the wolf out of its cage. It’s time we question it.”

She spoke of you as if you weren’t there, reducing you to an animal, rather than a person. “I have a name, you know,” you spat. 

The woman scoffed. “And I don’t care to know it. You’re nothing more than a wolf to me. I’d have killed you and sold your pelt already, if I didn’t need you at the moment.”

With that, she walked away, leaving Luke to unlock your cell.

“Why are you doing this?” You asked him. But part of you knew why. Whatever issue the Tillersons had come to your doorstep with the other night was the reason for this. 

Luke remained silent as he stepped toward you. Frightened, you backed into the corner. “What are you doing?!”

“Just gonna ask you a couple questions,” He simply said as he readied the key to unlock the chain holding you to the wall. 

“Why can’t you ask them in here?” 

He didn’t reply. You whimpered, making yourself as small as possible against the wall. Normally, you would fight tooth and nail and shift into your wolf, but you were terrified of what the collar might do to you if you tried. 

“No!” You shrieked when he reached for you. 

“Please don’t make this difficult. I don’t want to have to sedate you again.”

“No! No! No!” But he’d already grabbed you, and try as you might, you couldn’t break free from his grasp. Your normally heightened strength had been reduced to human weakness. Luke was now much stronger than you. 

He dragged you out of the cell and down the corridor, where Patricia was waiting impatiently. There was a steel examination table in the middle of the room. An overhead light illuminated it. 

Your heart began to pound in your chest. There were restraints on the table. You knew instantly that you were going to be tied down. To your right, you saw an array of tools and weapons. Things that made your stomach turn. You knew they were going to be used on you. 

“Wait! Wait!” You cried. “Please! You can’t! I-I’m pregnant!” Ice-cold terror was rushing through your veins at the thought of harm coming to your baby through whatever inhumane means of questioning they used on you. 

That gave Luke pause. He looked at his mother. “Mom, wha–”

“Don’t tell me you believe her?” Patricia cut him off. “She’s lying! Trying to get us to feel sorry for her! Now get her on the table!”

“No! I’m not lying, please!” You wept. “I’m just over thirteen weeks along!”

But it did nothing to stop the inevitable. Luke wrestled you into the table and fastened you down so you couldn’t escape. Then, Patricia was standing over you. 

“If you tell us everything we need to know, then we won’t hurt you or your baby.”

“What do you want to know?!” 

“What did your husband do to my son?”

You stared at her. “He didn’t do anything!” You replied. 

Patricia laughed. “You expect me to believe that? Trevor went to talk to your husband the other day and then he disappeared. You don’t find that suspicious?”

You were beginning to piece it all together. The reason for Luke and Billy’s visit the other night. The reason Rhett had been so tense and unlike himself. You’d caught bits and pieces of the conversation he’d had with the brothers the night they showed up on your doorstep. Rhett had sounded surprised. You knew he hadn’t done anything to Trevor. He wasn’t like that. 

“Wh-when did Trevor come to talk to him?” You asked. 

Patricia stepped over to the table of items, seemingly deciding which one she wanted to use on you. “Sometime Monday morning. He never came home. So what happened? Did Rhett kill him?”

“Rhett was with me! We were at a checkup with my midwife!” You tried to reason. 

“You wolves will say anything to avoid consequence.” She pulled out what looked to be a stun baton. She pressed the button and electricity crackled to life at the end of it. “I’ll ask you again. What. Happened. To. Trevor?”

“I don’t know! I swear I don’t!” 

Your vision went white when the electricity came in contact with your body. 

—

Meanwhile, back on the reservation, Rhett was racing against the clock. He’d called the sheriff, and she was already on her way. This was going to end with his brother going to jail, and Rhett couldn’t find it in his heart to feel sorry for him. Not after Perry’s actions had resulted in Rhett losing what was most precious to him. 

Joy Hawk had no idea what she was getting herself into when Rhett called her that evening as she was sitting down to dinner with her wife and daughter. The urgency in his voice told her that something was dead wrong. He wouldn’t say why he was calling, just that he needed her to come to the wolf reservation immediately. 

She kissed her daughter on the head and reluctantly informed her wife that she had to miss dinner. She tried not to let her daughter’s sad expression affect her, but it made her chest ache as she walked out the front door and latched it behind her. 

It took her twenty-five minutes to reach the Abbott property, and when she did, Rhett was scrambling outside to meet her. When she saw the desperation in his eyes, her brow furrowed in concern.

“What’s goin’ on?” She asked. 

“My wife, she…she’s gone. The Tillersons took her.” His voice trembled. He took a shuddering breath that did little to calm him. 

That sprung Joy into action, following him into the house as he led her. “How long?”

“Since this afternoon.”

“How do you know the Tillersons have her?”

At that, Rhett swept his arm out in front of him, motioning to his brother as he brought the sheriff into the kitchen. As she took in the sight of the family around the table, she was reminded of a scene she had walked into not so long ago, when Rebecca had disappeared. This all felt too familiar.

“Why don’t you go ‘head and tell her, Per?!”

Perry hesitated. When Joy’s gaze fell upon him, he looked like a deer caught in the headlights. “Tell me what?”

“I-I don’t–”

“Perry!” The gruff loudness of Rhett’s tone made everyone jump. He wasn’t about to let Perry lie right through his teeth. 

“They took Rhett’s wife because of me. Because I killed Trevor Tillerson.”

At her son’s admission. Cecilia let her head fall into her hands. Royal closed his eyes. Even though they already knew it was coming, hearing it said out loud made it real. 

“I…you’re serious? You’re tellin’ me the God’s honest truth right now?” Joy asked, staring straight at Perry. 

“I am. I can take you to the body if you need. But it’s the truth. I killed him.”

She leaned back, entirely flabbergasted. “Okay. First of all, I’m gonna need to call this in.” Then she turned to look at Rhett. “Our highest priority right now is findin’ your wife, but first, I need to report this back to the station and I’ll be right back with a game plan.”

Rhett caught her arm, and she saw the raw fear in his eyes. “I think…I think she might be dead,” he croaked. 

Joy lifted her hand and gently placed it over the one he had on her arm. “Let’s not go there yet, okay? Let me call the station. We’ll get to the bottom of this, I promise.” 

She stepped outside and sauntered to her cruiser, where she grabbed her radio and put in a request for backup and a forensics team. She had no idea how this was going to unfold, but she had a gut feeling that it wasn’t going to be pretty. 

As soon as she radioed the station, she made her way back into the house. “Alright, I’ve got backup on the way. Let me just ask a few more questions to clarify what’s going on here.” She took a notepad out of her front pocket.

Rhett was growing restless. He was so desperate to find you. He wanted to march right up to the Tillerson house himself and demand they release you. But he couldn’t go in there alone. Not when they could shoot him on sight with a silver bullet, rendering him dead in minutes, if not instantly, if the bullet went to his heart. 

He’d be no good to anyone if he was dead. But oh, how hard it was to sit around and wait, not knowing what had happened to you. He still could not feel your presence, but there was part of him that believed maybe there was still hope. But he knew that was simply wishful thinking. 

As soon as the rest of the Wabang Sheriff’s Department and the coroner’s office showed up, things shifted into action. Joy organized a small group to go out and locate the body. Perry was instructed to lead them to it. After which, he would be placed under arrest and taken to the station. 

In the meantime, Cecilia took it upon herself to inform the rest of your family as to what was happening. It was not right to keep them in the dark any longer. They needed to know.

While that was taking place, Joy grabbed her most trusted deputy, Raven Perez, and informed her of the situation with the Tillersons.

“I want you to come with me,” Joy told the woman, “I don’t know how they’ll react to police presence, I don’t want to risk going in there without someone to cover my six.”

Raven nodded, her dark eyes serious. “Okay. You think we need to call in the state police? I have a bad feeling that this is not going to end well.”

Joy considered her words. “No, but we might have to if things escalate. I have no idea what we’re walkin’ into here. I haven’t dealt with werewolf hunters head-on before.”

“Okay. I’ll keep them on standby just in case.”

The two women moved to head to the cruiser, but they were interrupted by a determined cowboy. “I’m comin’ with you,” Rhett’s voice suddenly cut through the air. 

Joy stopped, staring at him as he stood there, a determined look on his face. She was already shaking her head. “Absolutely not. You need to let us handle this.”

His shoulders went tense. “Joy, they took my mate. There’s no way in hell I’m gonna stand back while someone else goes to find her. I need to go with you. And if…if she’s dead, I need to be there to bring her body home so we can give her the burial she deserves.”

The sheriff hesitated, eyeing the man before her. She’d never seen him so broken. In all her dealings with Rhett during the investigation into Rebecca’s disappearance, he had always been a steady, quiet force. But now, his shoulders had dropped low in defeat, and his eyes were haunted with shadows of grief. 

She also knew how sacred burials were. Her own culture was very methodical and traditional when it came to the way they carried out such things. Wolf burials held that same sense of ceremony and honor. 

But it was strictly against protocol to allow him to come. She was just asking to get in trouble by involving him. But as she gazed into his mournful blue eyes, she found herself nodding her head. 

“Okay. But you stay behind me at all times. Do not try anything that’ll get you killed. Got it?”

“Got it,” Rhett echoed. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Raven spoke up, glancing between the werewolf and the sheriff. 

“No. But we’re doin’ it anyway. Let’s go.”

The three of them climbed into Joy’s cruiser, and off they went, the bright morning sun lighting the way. In the backseat, Rhett was vibrating with nervous energy, his heart racing in his chest. His mind spun through different scenarios as to how this was going to go down. Would the Tillersons let you go once they got answers about Trevor? Would you be unharmed? Would you even be alive?

He closed his eyes, taking in deep breaths, filling his lungs with oxygen, trying to remain calm. He was partly afraid that he would lose control once he stood face-to-face with Luke and Billy. The prospect of losing you rendered him unable to keep his wolf at bay, and he briefly wondered what would happen if he ended up succumbing to that wild animal and lunging. Joy would have to intervene if it came to that. He just hoped it wouldn’t. 

The drive up to the Tillerson property was brief, and as soon as Joy turned onto the long, gravel driveway, Rhett leaned forward in his seat, thrumming with uncertainty and fear and the overwhelming need to find his mate. 

Once Joy threw the vehicle into park, the trio climbed out, and she led them up to the grand front porch. There, she stopped to knock on the door. Four precise knocks. Then she rang the doorbell, the sound of which could be heard from outside. 

A few moments later, the door came open, and out stepped Luke. Rhett tensed, and when he breathed in, he could smell your scent on Luke. 

Joy was saying something to him. But through the rush of blood in his ears, Rhett couldn’t hear her. His gaze was locked on the other man. A tremor ran down his spine, and a burning, churning desperation came to life in his belly. 

“Where is she?” He heard himself growling, a sound entirely foreign even to his own ears. Low and wild. Terrifying. 

Luke’s gaze shifted to Rhett’s. There was a flicker of fear in those stormy eyes. “Where’s Trevor?” He countered. 

Rhett was fighting the urge to go for the man’s throat. Your scent was so strong it almost brought him to his knees. “I can smell her on you! What did you do to her?!” His throat was raw from the snarl. 

Joy turned, holding her hand out to steady the wolf. “Rhett, if you can’t control yourself, I’ll have to remove you from the premises.” Her free hand was resting on her gun. 

But it was as if he didn’t hear her. “Goddammit, Luke! Did you kill her?!”

“I’m not telling you shit until you tell me where my brother is!” Luke shouted back. 

“ENOUGH!” Joy and Raven spoke at the same time. 

“We’re in the middle of searching for your brother right now. But I need to know if you have Rhett’s wife. If you do, I will be forced to remove her from your possession by any means necessary,” Joy said. 

Luke entirely ignored Joy. “You should’ve just brought us Trevor yourself, and we could’ve avoided this whole mess,” he spoke directly to Rhett. 

“And what, let you kill me on sight as soon as I stepped foot on your property?”

“Oh, like you killed my brother?”

“I didn’t kill your brother!”

“Then where is he, huh?! Cause it sure as hell don’t look like he’s alive!”

“Will you two stop already?! Luke, do you have her, or not?!” Joy demanded. 

In the meantime, Patricia Tillerson had it all planned out. Billy had just come down to inform her that Rhett Abbott had shown up with the cops, and no Trevor. 

“Fine,” she hissed angrily. “We’ll do this another way.”

She marched right over to you, still bound to the metal examination table. She’d been questioning you for hours and had gotten nowhere. You were exhausted, shivering, and drenched with sweat. 

“Wh-what are you doing?!” You fearfully asked, flinching away as she moved to abruptly unbuckle your restraints. 

“Get up,” she simply said. 

“No! What are you–”

“Get up!” A sharp slap to your cheek had you scrambling to slide off the table, but your legs nearly gave out as your feet hit the ground. 

A fresh wave of terror sliced through you, heightened when you watched her grab a gun loaded with silver bullets. She clamped her hand around your upper arm, sure to leave a bruise, and dragged you along. You didn’t have the strength to fight her, and when you tried, she pulled you forward hard, so that you stumbled. 

Your legs felt heavy, and your feet dragged like your shoes were made of iron. Tears ran down your cheeks, and your mind raced, trying to figure out what was happening, where she was taking you. Was she finally going to kill you?

And that’s when you heard it. The sound of raised voices echoing through the corridors of the house. But one stood out above all the rest. Rhett. 

“Rhett?” You squeaked, and a sob tore from your throat. 

“Shut your mouth, whore,” Patricia snapped. She yanked you forward, right into the main entry area of the house. You could see Luke at the door, and beyond him, Sheriff Hawk and Deputy Perez. But they didn’t matter. Not when your eyes fell upon your mate. The one who you were certain was here to rescue you. 

“Rhett,” you tried to speak again, but you couldn’t make your voice any louder than a pathetic croak. Your throat was raw. 

But he saw you. His eyes, the bluest eyes you’d ever seen, flickered to you, and his entire face changed. His mouth moved as he spoke your name, but it sounded like a faraway echo. 

It seemed to all happen in slow motion. 

Before Rhett could even think, he was rushing forward, pushing past Joy, past Luke, fighting his way into the house. Multiple voices were shouting all at once. 

You should’ve seen the two officers unholstering their guns. Should’ve seen the way Luke ducked out of the way. Should’ve felt Patricia move beside you. 

In seconds, she’d lifted her gun and pressed it to your temple. Time slowed. Rhett stumbled to a halt, his arms coming out in front of him, a look of sheer horror in his eyes as his mouth opened to form…

“NO!” His chest burned. His eyes glowed gold. “LET HER GO!”

“Why should I let her go, wolf? You took my son from me. I’ll take the mother of your child away from you.”

“Please!” Rhett sobbed. “What do you need me to do?! I’ll do it. Just, please! Don’t take my wife and baby from me!”

“Is my son dead?”

“Drop the gun!” Joy’s voice filled the room. Loud and booming. Her weapon was drawn. So was Raven’s. “Drop it or so help me God, I will shoot you!”

“You shoot me, I take her with me!” Patricia shouted, pressing the gun more firmly against your head. You whimpered, fighting the urge to close your eyes. Instead, you focused on Rhett. He looked wild. Trapped, like a caged animal.  

“You don’t want to do this!” Raven exclaimed in the background, eyes trained on her target. 

“Yes I do! These animals stole my son from me! Either they return him, or I put a bullet in her head!” 

“Mom, just let her go!” Luke’s desperate voice tore through the commotion. “It’s not worth it!”

“No! Where is my son?! What did you do to him?!”

Joy wouldn’t say. She knew the moment she confirmed Trevor was dead, Patricia would pull the trigger. So she tried to diffuse the situation. 

“We’re lookin’ for him right now, Patricia! Don’t kill this innocent girl because you think Rhett might’ve had something to do with it! If you kill her, we will take you down!” The sheriff cried. 

There was no clean ending to this situation. Someone wasn’t going to make it out alive. 

In the midst of it, the shouting and the chaos and the fear, all Rhett could see was you. His only love. His mate. The other half of his soul. He saw your future together. He saw himself holding your baby for the first time. He saw you building a life together. Growing your family. Doing all the things you’d always dreamed of doing together. 

And he couldn’t let it be stolen from him. He couldn’t let you be stolen from him. 

So he fell to his knees, and he looked up at the woman who held your life in her hands. “I beg of you,” he breathed “don’t take her from me.”

She shifted, pressing the barrel of the gun tighter against your temple, her finger on the trigger. You whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut. Any second, she would squeeze that trigger and it would all be over.

Rhett knew what he had to do. “You want the truth? Fine, I’ll tell you the truth.” His mouth parted as his fangs grew. His eyes glowed bright as embers. “Trevor’s dead.”

Then he lunged. 

In a split second, the man was a wolf. An apex predator, all sleek black fur and tight muscle. You heard a gunshot ring out, and you expected your body to fall. But before it did, the animal was colliding with your chest, sending you plummeting toward the hard ground. 

But you never came in contact with it. A hand was behind your head, cushioning your fall. A shadow remained above you, broad and familiar. When you opened your eyes, you found your husband staring down at you, his face human again. 

“I’ve got you,” he soothed. He placed his body over top of your own, shielding you from what was happening around you. His hands were pressed over your ears, muffling the deafening sound of gunfire that would be murder on your sensitive hearing. 

And then, all at once, it was silent. 

Slowly, Rhett lifted his hands from your ears. “Are you okay?” He asked. His voice wavered. Frantic eyes searched your being for any signs of outward harm. He touched his fingers to the collar around your neck, and his chest flashed with anger. “What did they do to you?”

But you couldn’t speak. Tears rushed forth, blurring your vision, and immediately, you flung your arms around his bare shoulders. Deep, broken sobs wracked your body. Rhett held you tight, moving to sit upright as you clung to him, weeping into his neck, holding onto him as if you were afraid that if you let go, he’d disappear. 

“Don’t let go!” You wailed.

He was overcome, and he closed his eyes, nuzzling into you, his own tears burning hot trails down his cheeks. “I’m here, little wolf. I’m here, I’m not gonna let you go.”

Slowly, you turned your head, allowing your eyes to flutter open. That’s when you saw it. Patricia Tillerson lay lifeless on the floor. Her cold, dead eyes remained open and fixed on you, a haunting visual that would never leave you as long as you lived. 

“Rhett,” you whimpered, burying your face against his neck again. 

“Shh. I got ya, baby. You’re safe.”

You didn’t know how long you knelt there on that floor, clinging to one another, lamenting all that had befallen you. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered but this. Your arms around each other. Your chests pressed together. Your heartbeats intertwined.

All too soon, a gentle hand was placed upon Rhett’s shoulder, and Joy’s voice could be heard. “Rhett, we need to get you both out of here and rope off the crime scene. Is she okay to be moved?”

Rhett leaned back to fully look into your face. “Can you walk?” He asked you. 

Your strength was so depleted that you weren’t sure if you could. “I-I don’t know,” you whimpered. 

“Okay. Hold on a minute, let me get my clothes.” He gently set you on the floor before he quickly gathered the clothes he’d shed during his shift. Once he was clothed, he bent to help you to your feet, wrapping a secure arm around you as he carefully guided you out of the house and into the night. 

Deputy Perez, who was waiting for you outside the house, noticed the collar around your neck. “I’ll see about getting this off you,” she assured you, inspecting it more closely. “Is it a shock collar?”

“N-no,” you answered. “It’s meant to…to keep me from using my abilities. If I try, it’ll kill me.”

Raven nodded, her gaze intense. “I’ll see if Luke or Billy has the key for it.” She stepped away, leaving you and Rhett alone for just a moment. 

Rhett lifted his hand, gingerly touching the collar again. His eyes filled with tears, and he shook his head. “I-I’m so sorry,” he croaked. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner.”

You placed your hand over his own, intertwining your fingers. “It’s okay. I still knew you’d come.”

Moments later, Raven returned with the key in her hand. Your chance to finally have complete freedom, all held in a tiny piece of metal. You were so eager to be rid of the constrictive device, but when Raven reached out to unlock it, you instinctually flinched away, pressing yourself against your mate’s side. You knew Raven meant you no harm, but you were so fearful of any touch that was not Rhett’s. 

He held his hand out. “Let me do it. I don’t think she can stand anyone else touchin’ her but me.”

The woman nodded, gladly handing the key over. At that, Rhett turned to you, effectively shielding you with his body. “I’m gon’ get this off you, okay darlin’? You’re safe, it’s just me an’ you.”

You let your eyes fall shut as your husband carefully located the lock and inserted the key. He soothed you as he turned the lock, and then, all at once, the collar was gone from your neck. 

You let out a relieved sob. Before you, Rhett gasped, because all at once, he was hit with an overwhelming sensation. As if the missing half of his soul had just returned to its rightful place. He realized then that the collar had been inhibiting him from sensing your presence all along. At the realization, he pressed his forehead against yours, and both of you succumbed to silent tears. 

But all too soon, your moment was interrupted as Raven spoke up. 

“We’ve got an ambulance on the way for you,” she assured you, her deep brown eyes filled with compassion.

But you began to shake your head, retreating further into Rhett, tucking yourself back into his side, in need of the safety he provided. “N-no. No, I don’t want to go to the hospital,” you protested. “I want to see my pack doctor instead.” You trusted Doctor Tenpenny above all others. You had only ever gone to her your entire life. The thought of going to the hospital made anxiety roil in your belly. 

“Honey, you’ve been through a lot. It’s probably better that you go to a real hospital,” she tried to reason. 

“I said no. I’m going to my doctor. She’s the only one I trust.” After the traumatic series of events you had just endured, you didn’t want to experience any more discomfort. You didn’t want to sit in a sterile white room with a doctor you didn’t know examining you. You wanted your doctor. The one who understood wolf medicine, and knew exactly how to take care of you and your baby. 

Raven looked at Rhett, as if trying to get him to convince you to change your mind. But he was inclined to let you choose for yourself. You knew your body best, and if you felt that Doctor Tenpenny was the safest option after what you had gone through, he wasn’t going to make you change your mind. 

“We’ll go to our pack doctor. Thank you, Deputy Perez.”

Raven nodded, though she looked unsure. However, she didn’t want to push you any further. “Okay. You’ll need to sign a waiver stating that you refused treatment. You’ll also need to provide a statement as to what happened. I can take the statement whenever you’re ready.”

You looked at Rhett, and he saw the weariness on your face. You were depleted of any and all energy, and you desperately wanted to go home. 

His warm hand came up to rest upon your cheek, his touch loving. “You can do it, little wolf. I’ll be with you the whole time.”

And he was. He held your hand as you recounted each and every detail to Raven, and as he listened to your tearful words, and watched as you fought hard not to break down, he felt nauseated. He squeezed his eyes shut, trembling as he envisioned what you had been subjected to at the cruel hands of Patricia Tillerson. 

He hated that he couldn’t get to you sooner. He hated that you had suffered all of this, simply because of his brother’s heinous action. And he hated that he’d known about it, and had not gone to the police himself in the first place. If he had, instead of trusting Perry to do the right thing, then none of this would have happened. Rhett realized that in some ways, he was just as much to blame for what had happened to you as Perry was. 

He wanted to fall to his knees and tell you how sorry he was. But as Raven finished up her questioning, he could see how drained you were. Your tears had long since stopped, and the numbness had begun to set in. The time for emotional confessions and petitions for forgiveness would come later. For now, you just needed to go home. 

“Alright. That about does it. Thank you for being so patient, I know this is difficult,” Raven assured you. “Would you like me to escort you home in the cruiser?”

You nodded, though even that took more energy than you had. “Please.”

So, the two of you climbed into the back of the car, and you let yourself rest in Rhett’s warm embrace, your eyes growing heavy with exhaustion. He held you tightly and relished in your closeness. Your aliveness. 

He kept a protective hand against your belly the whole ride home. He could still sense your little one, which was a good sign. But there was still a fear in both of your minds, wondering if what you had been put through might cause you to lose your daughter. 

As a wolf, you had the ability to heal much faster than a human. Things didn’t affect you as badly because of your supernatural blood. But things like miscarriages were still possible. Especially if your body was put under intense amounts of stress. 

You let your hand rest over his own, and you sat in silence the entire ride, until Raven pulled into the wolf reservation. When you lifted your head from Rhett’s shoulder, you caught sight of the bustling activity taking place outside the cruiser. 

After Cecelia had informed the rest of your pack as to what was happening, they’d all gathered together to learn of your fate and wait for your return. Your heart ached, because you knew your mother would be beside herself. 

But the thought of being swarmed by everyone made your chest tighten with anxiety. You didn’t want to endure any noise or fanfare. Your nerves were shot and you were afraid you would succumb to a breakdown if you had to endure any more upheaval. 

“Rhett,” you whispered fearfully, grabbing his arm. “I can’t…I can’t handle all of them.”

“Shh,” he soothed. “‘s okay, we’ll just take ya to the house and have Doctor Tenpenny come see you there.”

Then he instructed Raven to drive over to the edge of the property, where your home was situated. She did so without complaint, and once she pulled the car to a stop, Rhett was quick to help guide you out onto solid ground, catching you when your knees almost buckled. 

“I’ve got ya.” With a kiss pressed to your temple, he led you up to the door, where he took a moment to locate the hide-a-key and unlock it. He turned back to wave at Raven, and then he took you into the house. 

“I’m gettin’ you up to bed,” he assured you, and you nodded, but the thought of climbing the stairs was too much for you. Rhett noticed your trepidation, and immediately, he was lifting you into his arms. He carried you up the steps and into your loft bedroom, where he stopped to carefully place you on the bed. 

He stood before you, big gentle hand coming up to lovingly stroke your cheek. You looked up at him, and your eyes welled with tears. 

“I thought I lost you,” he whispered. 

You closed your watery eyes, nuzzling into his hand. You couldn’t speak, but you didn’t need to. Your mate wrapped you in his arms and held you to his chest, assuring you that he was here now, that you were safe. And you knew you were. 

When he finally let you go, he knelt to reverently help you undress. He removed your shoes from your feet and got you out of your sweat-dampened clothing. You didn’t have the strength to get into the shower, so he took the packet of wipes you kept in your bedside table and lovingly wiped your body down before he put you into a clean pair of pajamas and got you into bed. 

As you settled in, he left a kiss on your forehead, and then slipped away to give the doctor a quick call. You had a few moments of peaceful rest before your mother and Doctor Tenpenny arrived. 

Rhett allowed you your emotional reunion with your mother, but once the doctor began her examination of you, he remained close by, perched on the edge of the bed, holding one of your hands in his own. 

“From what I can tell, baby girl is just fine. Her heartbeat is strong and there are no signs of distress. But I want you to stop by my clinic tomorrow so I can give you a more thorough examination, alright? For now, the best thing I can prescribe is rest. Drink lots of fluids. Try to eat to get your strength back up. Your body has been through a significant amount of trauma, and it’s going to take you a bit longer to heal than it normally would.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, rejoicing over the health of your baby. Rhett squeezed your hand, and you met his tearful gaze. This was one positive after the heartache you’d endured. 

The doctor left you with a few herbal remedies for any pain you might be experiencing, and finally, she bid you farewell. Your mother remained with you for a little while longer, unwilling to let you out of her sight just yet. 

But she could see how exhausted you were, so, reluctantly, she kissed your forehead and slipped out of the room, allowing you the peace you so desperately needed. Rhett walked her out, and she turned to him on the doorstep, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. “Take care of my baby,” she told him. 

He mustered a smile, placing his hand over her own and giving it a squeeze. “Always.”

Once she was gone, Rhett stepped back into the house, where he made his way up the stairs and to your room again. He found you huddled under the covers, not quite asleep yet. When you saw him, you lifted your arms, reaching for him, beckoning him to bed. 

He took a moment to strip out of his shirt and jeans, leaving him in just his underwear. Then, he rounded the bed and climbed in next to you. Instantly, you turned your body, curling into him and burying your face against the slope of his neck. 

“Don’t let go,” you whispered when you felt his arms slip securely around your body. 

“I’m never lettin’ you go again, little wolf.”

And for the first time in forty-eight hours, you finally found rest. 

You slept for hours after that. Your exhausted body succumbed to a state of much-needed rest. Rhett was exhausted, too. Emotionally and physically. The trauma of losing you had zapped what strength he had left. So you slept wrapped around each other, grateful that you had been returned safely home.

But your moment of rest could only last for so long. Soon, it was time to wake up and face the world again. Rhett kept you shielded from it for as long as he could, dismissing any visitors that wanted to see you, because he knew you could not handle it.

However, life had to go on. A few days later, the sheriff showed up again to tie up some loose ends, and it pained Rhett deeply to watch you be put through the wringer all over again as you had to recall more details about what had happened. 

But Joy also had news to share. Some good, and some bad. 

“I know this has been hell for you, and I won’t take up any more of your time than I have to. But, we located Trevor’s body just south of here. We also found his truck at the bottom of Lover’s Lake. Perry confessed to the murder.” She leaned forward in her seat at your kitchen table. “I don’t know how much you’ve been talkin’ to your family lately, but last night, your dad came forward and confessed that he was also involved in disposing of the body. Did you know about that, Rhett?”

Beside you, Rhett’s eyes widened, and he shook his head in disbelief. “When we got into it at the house the other night, I found out he knew about it. But I…I had no idea he helped him hide the fuckin’ body.” He scrubbed his hands over his face, trying to process what he’d just been told. Part of him wasn’t surprised. After all, Perry wasn’t smart enough to hide something like that on his own. He had to have had help. 

“To be frank with ya, this is a big fuckin’ mess. Not only do I have a werewolf killing a human, but I have hunters abducting a werewolf on top of it. The National Werewolf League wants answers as to how I let hunters operate right under my nose. Truth is, I had no idea they were actively hunting you guys. You know I haven’t been in office very long. I’ve been purposely kept in the dark as far as your history goes.”

“They weren’t actively huntin’ us. My dad had that agreement with Wayne when it came to huntin’. And ever since then, they haven’t gone after us. Until Trevor went missin’, then Patricia lost her fuckin’ mind and decided to target us,” Rhett explained. 

“I’m only sorry I didn’t know about it sooner. I really was naive enough to think that hunting was a thing of the past. But turns out, Patricia was actively hunting werewolves under the radar. Luke said he and his brothers haven’t done any hunting since their mother initially left years ago. But, that doesn’t change the fact that he and Billy were still involved in kidnapping your wife. So I want you to know that they will be punished to the full extent of the law. They won’t be able to hurt you ever again, and you have my word on that.” 

Rhett reached over to grab your hand, squeezing it gently. “Thank y’, Joy.”

She nodded, smiling softly at him. “You should also know that Luke has agreed to entirely nullify the contract your dad signed years ago with Wayne. That means that this land will rightfully belong to your family, and you will be free to live anywhere else you choose without facing repercussions from the Tillersons or anyone else.”

Rhett let out a breath of disbelief, leaning back in his chair and running his free hand through his hair. “Never thought I’d see the day,” he marveled. 

Joy held his gaze. “I’m truly sorry for the pain your people have had to endure. But I hope that this can be a step in the right direction to a better life for your pack, as well as packs all over the world.”

Finally, the sheriff stood from her chair, grabbing her hat from the table. “This is far from over. I just hope the two of you can find peace and healing in the midst of it.” Her gaze shifted to you. “Wishin’ you all the best with that little one you’re carrying. I hope she grows up in a world where she can feel safe and accepted.”

“So do I,” you firmly replied as you stood to shake her hand. 

“I’ll see myself out. We’ll be in touch,” the woman finally said. Then, with a tip of her hat, she turned, and walked out of your home, leaving you and Rhett bathed in silence.

“Y’ alright, little wolf?” He asked you. He rounded the table, where he gently wrapped an arm around your waist. 

You sighed deeply, leaning into him, letting your strength leave you as you let him support your weight. “I’m just…tired.” The last several days had been the most taxing period of time you had ever been through. Although your supernatural healing abilities had healed any injuries you had sustained, your spirit was still wounded from what you had endured. Your exhaustion was less physical and more mental and emotional now.

He nodded mournfully, lifting his hand to tilt your face toward him. “I know. So am I.” A tender kiss was pressed to your temple, lingering for a moment before he pulled back. The blue of his eyes was breathtaking, so brilliant and clear. “But we’re gonna be okay. We’ll get through this together. You, me, and this little pup. It’s us against the world.” His hand came to rest on your abdomen. 

You mustered a soft smile, your eyes glimmering with tears. When you let your eyes flutter shut, those tears slid down your cheeks. Rhett’s fingers were there in an instant, wiping them away. Wordlessly, he let his forehead rest upon your own, and you could feel him trembling against you. 

He grew serious, and soon was overcome with the guilt he had been carrying with him since you went missing “Darlin’,” he whispered, “I…I need to tell you somethin’.”

You looked at him expectantly, and he reached behind himself to pull one of the kitchen chairs out, which he sat upon. His large hands took hold of your own, and he looked up at you with an intensity in his gaze. It made your stomach drop. 

“A few days before the Tillersons took you, I found out that Perry killed Trevor. I told him to go to the sheriff. I gave him two days, told him that if he didn’t come forward, then I would. But he never did. And then, they took you. And I…I just keep thinkin’, if I had just said somethin’ myself, then maybe you wouldn’t have been taken from me. Maybe you wouldn’t have suffered at the hands of that fuckin’ monster Patricia. Maybe you–”

“Rhett.”

He went quiet. 

Your gentle hands came up to cup his cheeks. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for this. Perry is the one that committed the crime. He’s the one that tried to cover it up. He should have gone forward himself. It isn’t your responsibility to right his wrongs. This is solely his fault.”

“But I…I should’ve been lookin’ at the bigger picture. I should’ve anticipated them takin’ you. But I didn’t. I could have lost you forever. I could’ve lost my child forever. I failed as your protector. And for that, I’m beggin’ your forgiveness.”

More tears flooded your vision, and you shook your head, falling to your knees along with him, hands still framing his face. “Baby, you don’t need to beg for my forgiveness. You didn’t fail as my protector. You were there when I needed you most. If you hadn’t stepped in when you did, I wouldn’t be here with you right now. I’m alive because of you. So don’t you think for one second that you failed me, or our child. Because you didn’t. You saved us.”

A soft sob escaped his throat, and he lowered himself to the floor with you, wrapping his arms around your body, much like he had when he came to your rescue that fateful night. It was your turn to hold him. Cradling his head against your chest, letting him listen to yours and your baby’s heartbeat. Reminding him that you were alive, that you were safe, that you weren’t going anywhere.

Your journey was not over. In fact, it was just beginning. The nature of this situation would spark national coverage, especially since the League had gotten involved. There would be trials to attend, trauma to relive, and difficult decisions to make. But for now, if only for a brief moment in time, the two of you were safe in your little bubble, wrapped in each other’s arms. 

And you longed for it to never end. 

“Rhett?” You softly spoke, after your emotions had waned. You were still on the floor, but you had shifted so you were sitting cross-legged in front of each other. 

His tired blue eyes flickered to yours. 

“Can…can we pretend, just for tonight, that things are normal? These next few months are going to be rough on both of us. I just want to pretend we’re back to the way things were before all this. Even if it’s only for tonight.”

Your husband smiled softly. “I’d like that.”

So, together, you stood from the floor, and Rhett pulled you in to kiss the top of your head. One brawny arm slid around your torso, and he nuzzled his nose against yours. “Wan’ me to take ya into town for some pizza?”

You considered his offer, placing your hands against his chest. “How about we finish off some of the leftovers in the fridge? I’m afraid if we go into town people will bombard us with questions.” Dealing with people sounded like an overstimulation nightmare for you. 

Rhett nodded. “You’re right. Don’t know what I was thinkin’.” He glanced over at the fridge. “Guess we do have plenty’a leftovers to get through. Your side of the pack really knows how to take care of people when they’re strugglin’.”

He was right, your pack members had been making meals for you and Rhett ever since you’d come home. The meals were deeply appreciated by you, because neither of you had the energy to cook. 

“Go sit and rest, darlin’,” Rhett told you. “I’ll heat everythin’ up and we can just eat in the livin’ room.”

You smiled, leaning into him as he ducked down to kiss you tenderly. Then he ushered you off to the living room while he buried himself with heating up dinner. 

In no time, you were cuddled up on the couch together, the television playing in the background as you ate, and it all felt so normal and mundane. Something you had been craving these last few days. 

You sat with your legs across Rhett’s lap, and he kept a steady hand against your thigh, thumb rubbing circles on the skin. For the first time since you had come home, you felt yourself relaxing. The tension melted away from your muscles, and you allowed yourself to relish in the domesticity of it all. 

You didn’t finish the movie playing on the screen. Neither of you were particularly interested in it. You were more interested in the closeness and the intimacy you shared. His gentleness was a soothing salve after you what you had experienced at the hands of Patricia Tillerson. 

“Do you wan’ head up to bed?” He softly asked you, after your head had fallen to rest upon his shoulder. 

Sliding into the comfort of your bed and then being wrapped securely in your mate’s arms sounded incredibly appealing. So you offered a sleepy smile and nodded your head. 

Rhett sent you upstairs with a kiss, promising to join you momentarily, after he put the dishes in the sink and shut off all the lights for the evening. So you trudged up the steps into the loft and busied yourself with getting ready for bed. 

Since you had come home, you hadn’t taken the time to go about your usual nighttime routine. The best you could do most evenings was brush your teeth and change into pajamas before collapsing into bed. It was all you had energy for. 

But tonight, you decided it was time to carry out that routine, in the hopes that it might make you feel somewhat normal. After you changed into your pajamas, you took the time to cleanse your face before you took a seat at your vanity. The vanity Rhett had made for you when he was building your home. A warm-toned wooden dressing table, complete with carved details and a rounded mirror, giving it a vintage appearance. The mirror faced the bed, and the reason for that was because Rhett loved watching you put on your makeup and skincare products. He found you so effortlessly beautiful in those moments. 

Moments when life had seemed so much simpler. Now, everything felt muddled and complicated. Eventually, that gloom would clear, but until then, you were stuck in the midst of it, waiting for the sun to shine. 

But there were glimpses of that sunshine happening all around you. Such as the tiny heartbeat you could hear alongside your own. Or the smile on your husband’s face when he stepped into the room to find you at your dressing table. 

You could see him in the mirror, and you smiled back, eyeing him as he approached you. There was a look of awe shimmering in his eyes. When he reached you, his large, warm hands came to rest on your shoulders. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head. 

You closed your eyes, melting beneath his touch. “I thought maybe doing my skincare might help me feel a little more normal, too.”

“You all finished?”

“Just have to put moisturizer on.”

“Hold on one sec.” He slipped away quickly, ducking into the adjacent bathroom to wash his hands. Moments later, he emerged. “Let me put your moisturizer on ya.”

You giggled at that. “Why?”

“Because I want to. C’mon, give it ‘ere.” He reached for the bottle, which you handed to him. Then, he knelt before you and turned you in your chair so you were facing him. Ever so carefully, he gathered the moisturizer on his fingers, smoothing it around for a moment before he began to delicately smooth the cream over your skin. 

Your smile began to fade into an expression of bliss as he caressed your face, and your eyes soon drifted shut. His touch was so comforting, and he worked with careful precision, making sure he wasn’t too rough on your delicate skin. 

You got lost in the feeling, and if only for a moment, your mind went blank. It was only you and Rhett. No troubles. No anxieties. Just peace. 

And then he spoke, his voice gravelly, coming from deep within his chest. “All done.”

When you opened your eyes, his own were staring back at you. You were so close, your noses were almost brushing. You both could feel that magnetic pull, drawing you to each other. You didn’t know who moved first. But it didn’t matter. Seconds later, your lips were joined in a searing kiss. 

You weren’t quite sure what came over you. All at once, the crushing weight of desire threatened to consume you whole. A fire ignited in your belly, and you surged forward, sliding off your chair and onto the floor. Funny, you seemed to find yourselves on the floor together a lot these days. 

Rhett gasped against your mouth at your sudden movement, entirely caught off guard. He parted from you, searching your face. “Whoa there, darlin’,” he breathed. 

“Rhett, I…” You began, but trailed off. An ache had begun to blossom through your chest. An intense need, unlike anything you’d ever felt before. 

“What? Tell me what you need.”

“I need you.”

He hesitated. “Are you sure? I don’t wanna do anythin’ that you aren’t ready for.”

Your hands clutched at his collar, your body pressed against his own. “I’m sure. I need…I need to be close to you. Need your touch.”

You spoke with deep sincerity. This was not a moment of crazed lust. This was a moment in which you so deeply desired intimacy. You needed to be joined as one with your mate, needed the safety that came from being in his arms, wrapped around his body. You needed him. 

He let his forehead rest against your own, his eyes drifting shut as he breathed in deep. He wanted you, too, just as badly as you wanted him. He had missed being close to you in this way. 

“C’mon, little wolf. We’re not doin’ it on the floor. Want my girl to be comfortable on our bed.” He guided you to your feet, his hand against the small of your back as you were led to the bed. 

After the cruelty you had suffered, Rhett wanted you to experience nothing but softness and gentleness. You would never suffer under a harsh, unforgiving hand ever again, he would make sure of it. 

Reverently, he laid you upon the bed, his cerulean gaze fixed tenderly upon you. He held your stare as he climbed onto the mattress with you, his body covering your own as he hovered over you. 

You lifted your hand, cupping his cheek. “You make me feel so safe,” you whispered. You knew it was what he needed to hear, after he felt like he’d failed you and your child. And you meant every word. 

His mouth curled into a fond smile, and his eyes filled with tears, which dropped down onto your cheeks, pulling a soft giggle from you both. 

“Sorry,” he murmured, “I just…I love you. More than anythin’ in the world.”

You kissed him. “I love you too. ‘Til the day I die.”

One more lingering kiss before he leaned back, sitting on his haunches. He helped ease you out of your shirt, and then your shorts, keeping his movements slow and predictable, soft and loving. 

When your body was exposed to him, he sighed out desirously, as in love with you as he’d ever been. “So beautiful, all for me. My pretty little mate.”

You felt warm beneath his praise, and your eyes drifted shut as a lazy smile graced your features. When you heard the jangle of his belt buckle, your eyes came open again, and you watched as he undid the leather, his hands moving with ease.

He was quick to kick off his jeans and underwear, and you reached out to tug at his shirt, lifting it off his body to reveal his form underneath. Lithe muscle and golden skin from days of working outside without a shirt. 

Your hands came up to touch him, smoothing over his shoulders, across his chest, down his abdomen. He felt so warm and familiar beneath your touch. You realized just how much you had missed touching him like this. All you had done the last few days was kiss and embrace. You had not bared yourselves to one another in that time, because it was the furthest thing from your minds. 

But now, here you were, bodies exposed, skin to skin, and it felt right. His lips on yours felt right. His hands on you felt right. His chest against yours felt right. And when he lowered his body against your own, and you felt that heavy hardness nestled against your center, you sighed in contentment. This was good and natural and precious. It was just what you needed during a tumultuous moment in your lives. So you relished in it. 

Nothing was rushed. You took it slow. It wasn’t about pleasure. It was about the closeness. And Rhett made sure to drive that point home. He began his descent of your body, kissing your skin as he went. He was worshipful, reverent, and adoring. 

He breathed in your scent, closing his eyes and relishing in its sweetness. It was a reminder that you were here, alive and safe in his arms, right where you belonged. 

He paused when he reached your abdomen, and he let his hand splay protectively over it. He could hear your tiny little pup’s heartbeat, and he let his head rest there for a moment before he left a series of kisses all along your belly. 

You gazed down adoringly at him, reaching your hand out to brush his hair away from his face. He moved his head to kiss at your wandering fingers before he came back up to engulf you with his body. 

With his forearms near either side of your head, you felt caged in, in the best way. He had overcome all of your senses, blotting out any lingering anxiety or unease you might have still felt. 

His face was all you could see, the low bedroom light framing his head like a halo. He looked so beautiful like this, with love shining in his eyes. Love for you. 

“Gon’ make love to you, baby,” he murmured, ducking forward to nip at your bottom lip. 

“Go on then, cowboy,” you softly encouraged with a smile, tapping your heel against the back of his thigh. 

Humming in amusement, he kissed you again before he snaked his arm between your bodies to stroke his fingers through your slick. Two fingers inched inside you, pulling a gasp from your throat before he added a third. It wasn’t like you needed help trying to take him. You were made to accommodate him. As mates, your anatomy was meant to fit together, like two pieces of a puzzle. But that didn’t stop Rhett from getting you ready for him, making sure you were soaking around his fingers before he even considered sliding his cock inside you. 

You let your eyes drift shut, focusing on his thick fingers within you. But it wasn’t enough. They didn’t fill you like his cock did. They didn’t connect you in the way you so desperately needed. So you whined, leaning up to kiss him and beg into his mouth. “Pl-please.”

“I know, I got ya,” he hummed, before his tongue delved past your lips to taste you. Meanwhile, he reached down to align himself with you. You felt the plush head of his cock catch against your entrance as he dragged it through, gathering your slick as he went, and you gasped, your eyes widening at the feeling. 

Oh so slowly, he began to inch into you, and you found yourself jolting against him, letting out the softest of whimpers, your mouth brushing against his. 

He held your gaze, and the deep blue that reminded you of the depths of the ocean was almost too much to behold, but you found yourself unable to look away nonetheless. This felt natural. It felt right.

He kept going until he was fully nestled inside you, your anatomy stretching around him. Then he sighed out blissfully, his eyes fluttering shut as he reveled in the feeling of your wet warmth snug around him. “Feel so good, darlin’,” he hummed against your parted mouth. 

You whimpered softly, wrapping your arms around those broad shoulders of his. You finally felt safe and protected. Like nothing could hurt you as long as you were wrapped around your mate. He was so warm and familiar, and he smelled so good. A deep, woodsy scent that was unique only to him, and smelled like home to you.

You remained like that for a few moments, just cherishing the closeness, the intimacy of being joined as one. But the feeling of him inside you soon had you aching for more. 

With a soft sigh, you kissed at the corner of his mouth. “Move. Please,” you whined, nose bumping against his. 

He obliged, swiveling his hips, pushing himself further into you, filling you in a way that only he could. That thick cock brushed against all the pleasurable spots inside you, and with each push and pull, it stole the breath from your lungs. He’d only just begun and he was already sending you into orbit. 

His pace was slow. Careful, deliberate thrusts of his hips against yours, remaining as close as possible to your body. Chest to chest. Heart to heart. Tied together by a crimson string of fate. And then his mouth was on yours again, hot and open-mouthed, your breaths combined as one force. 

“Oh, oh darlin’,” your husband sighed. “Missed bein’ close to you like this.”

“Missed it too,” you squeaked. The tears were already beginning to gather along your lash line. “I…I thought I’d never get to be with you like this again.”

His own eyes became glassy, and he shook his head. “Shh, don’t talk like that. I’m here now. I’ve got ya, you’re safe and sound, and I ain’t never gonna let anyone take you away from me again.”

You knew he meant every word. He would move mountains to ensure your safety. He would go to war for you and your child. The realization was overwhelming. You had never been loved in such a way before. He loved you with a ferocity, an unmatched intensity, and it took your very breath away.

“L-love you,” you whimpered. 

“I love you too, little wolf. Always gonna love you.”

You slipped into a comfortable, sweet silence after that moment. No words were needed. Your soft sighs and hums were enough. Your bodies did all the talking instead. Moving together of one accord. Rhett built his own rhythm, a steady sway, relishing in the way you clenched around him each time he brushed past that sweet spot nestled deep within you.

You clung to him tightly, as if you were afraid he’d disappear into thin air. And maybe you had every right to entertain that fear. What if this was all a dream, and you’d wake up back in that dark, cold cell again, entirely helpless?

But Rhett seemed to sense your trepidation, and he soothed you. “You’re okay, honey. I’m right here. We’re safe, in our bed. Nobody’s gon’ hurt you.”

He was right, you knew he was. No harm would come to you. Not here, in the reverence of your bed. Not here, in the arms of your one true love. Not here, in your home. The realization sent those unshed tears spilling forth. Once the dam broke, there was no stopping it. 

“Rhett,” you whispered, and then you buried your face against the side of his neck. In a moment of deep catharsis, you let go of your emotions, letting them bubble from you like a rushing stream of water. 

“Shh,” he soothed, and in an instant, he changed positions, so that you were in his lap, held tightly in his arms. He didn’t stop, because you didn’t want him to. You needed this. You craved this. Even as you sobbed openly against his shoulder, hot tears dripping onto his skin. 

One large hand settled on the back of your head, while the other came to wrap around your back. Every inch of your body was pressed against his, and you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. As you cried, he whispered soothing words in your ear, and you held on to every last one of them. 

I love you. You’re safe. I’m here. 

It made you cry harder, tears of gratefulness and relief. Fate had smiled down upon you, and seen fit that you were reunited with your soulmate. The one that had been created just for you. The missing half to your whole.

The one who loved you then lifted his hand, and slipped his fingers into your mouth. It soothed your cries, and you blinked at him, eyes bleary. But even through the haze, you could see that he, too, was weeping. 

His fingers on your tongue grounded you, and you were able to fully immerse yourself in the moment, closing your eyes as you focused on the feeling of him inside you, pelvis undulating against yours. You began to rock your hips in tune with his own, slow at first, but soon faster and faster. 

That’s when the need took over your brain. An animalistic desire that drove you as you began to rut into him, holding on tightly, your nails digging crescents into his skin. A fire had been ignited in your belly, and you chased that warmth, growing bigger and bigger until it had nearly become a wildfire. 

“R-Rhett,” you squeaked, lifting your head to meet his gaze again.

“I know,” he groaned. “Let go when you need to, little wolf. I’m right behind you.”

You pressed your forehead to his, whimpering as you chased your high. You moved fluidly together, with only one goal in mind. So close, so close, so close. And then, all at once, “oh!” and you were freefalling. 

You threw your head back, mouth open as it overwhelmed you. An all-encompassing heat that tore through you, sending you convulsing in Rhett’s arms. He growled, his eyes flashing gold at the feeling of you clenching rhythmically around him. Moments later, he too was overcome, and as you drifted down from the precipice, you could feel the warmth of his seed flooding the very core of you, claiming you as his own. 

It took several moments for either of you to come back to earth. You remained in each other’s arms, bodies still connected. His lips pressed at your feverish collarbone, kissing your skin, bringing you back to him. 

When your vision finally cleared, you lifted his head so you could fully look into his face. Wordlessly, your mouth was against his again, kissing him lovingly. Hands came up to tangle in his hair, fingers scratching gently against his scalp. 

You weren’t sure how long you stayed that way. It could have been five minutes, it could have been twenty-five. But soon enough, Rhett moved to ease his soft cock from you, and you whined at the emptiness. Fingers soothed into your mouth again, pacifying you as he let you rest against the mattress. 

“You’re okay. Need t’ clean you up, darlin’.”

“Don’t let go.”

“I won’t. Just gonna carry you to the bathroom, alright? Give me girl a nice warm bath.”

You agreed, allowing him to move you into the bathroom, but not before he made sure you had a blanket wrapped around you so you wouldn’t catch a chill while he filled the bathtub. It was such a mundane moment, but you cherished it, because for just a little while, you could pretend everything was normal. Your husband was simply taking care of you after making love to you, just like he always did. 

But as sure as the water began to cool down as you finished your bath, so the coldness of reality settled in. You could not pretend things were normal forever. Both of you knew that. And as you slipped into bed that night, you spoke of it. 

“I…I’m scared,” you whispered. “Of what’s coming.”

With the League getting involved, and you being the victim of an egregious crime, your life was going to be in upheaval for the foreseeable future.

Rhett sighed softly, pressing his lips to your forehead. “I am too.” But then, a glimmer of hope. Gentle fingers tilted your chin up. “But think of it this way. We’re one step closer to makin’ the world a safer place for our little girl. I’m sure they’ll be passing stricter laws against wolf hunting. And with the Tillersons out of the picture, we’re already on the right track. We’ve got a fighting chance at seein’ hunting eradicated for good.”

“You really think our baby will be able to grow up in a world where hunting doesn’t exist?”

“I hope so. Nobody should have to live in fear of bein’ hunted for sport. Our kind have a right to protection, just like everyone else. If I have to go to fuckin’ war to make it happen, I will. There’s nothin’ more important to me than makin’ sure you and our babies are safe.”

Again, your eyes filled with tears, and you leaned in to kiss the man before you. “No matter what, we fight together,” you said. “Me and you.”

“Me and you,” he echoed, intertwining his hand with yours. 

It would be no easy feat, but together, you would get through this. And in the end, you would give your daughter, and other werewolves alike, a chance at life in a better world, one without hunters, where they could live wherever and however they pleased. 

No one would suffer beneath the point of a silver arrow ever again. All wolves would be free.

-

taglist:

@westpastor @happyrebelruins @bobfloydsbabe @myfandomchangesalot @mikpieboo @petersunderoos96 @eighthwvnder @yanna-banana @bradshawsbitch @sebsxphia @rhettabbotts @milesmillergf @briseisgone @up-thereinthesky @gohnspants @hangmanapologist @wkndwlff @damrlova @withahappyrefrain @michaego @whisperofsong @kmc1989 @peachystenbrough @callsign-magnolia

[just-a-tiny-goldfish]

I wish I could date the moms in stardew

[eiightysixbaby]

oo could you do the first heatwave prompt with eddie pls? 🖤

i absolutely can! ty for sending this in 🫶🏻

‘it’s absolutely sweltering, how can you still want to cuddle!?’

cw: mild suggested spice

You shuffle through the door after a long day at work, the patrons at Scoops today having been unrelenting. With how hot it is, you’re convinced the entire population of Hawkins and then some needed your ice cream today. At least that’s what it felt like with the line trailing out the door most of the day. You wave to Steve, thanking him for dropping you off at home, before fully shutting yourself inside. Eddie should be coming over any minute, knowing your work schedule like the back of his hand and always coming to see you as soon as he can when he knows you’re off. You peel off your sweat-slick uniform, hanging your little sailor’s hat on its designated hook on your bedroom wall.

All you want is to collapse into Eddie’s arms and sleep, your feet aching and the heat making your general discomfort even worse. You decide that you have enough time to take a cold shower, desperately needing some relief from the humidity outside. You’re shampooing your hair when you hear a knock on your front door.

“Babe?” Eddie’s voice calls.

“In the shower!” you yell, hoping he can hear you through the closed bathroom door and over the running water.

Sure enough, he pokes his head in the bathroom, doing a wolf whistle as you peek out the shower curtain at him.

“Man, got in the shower before I could join you?” he teases, coming over to give you a quick kiss before he exits, giving you your privacy again.

You walk into your room after your shower, drying your hair with a towel when you find Eddie laying on your bed. He’s already dressed for bed, wearing boxers and a cozy t-shirt. He has both fans in your room on high, the one on your bedside table turned directly onto him.

You hang your towel on your door before plopping yourself down onto your mattress beside your boyfriend, limbs immediately clinging to him. You snuggle up into his chest, breathing in his scent as your arms squeeze his torso closer to you.

“Babe, my darling, you know I love you dearly - but it’s absolutely sweltering. How can you still want to cuddle?” Eddie asks, squirming in your tight grip on him.

“Had a long day, just need you,” you whine, your voice muffled with your face pressed into his chest. “Plus, I took a cold shower… so now I’m cold,” you look up at him and pout, giving him your best puppy eyes to seal the deal.

“Okay, okay. Alright, fine. At least let me take my shirt off though, or I might actually melt all over your bed,” he says, his usual dramatics on display.

“The less clothes the better, baby,” you give him an exaggerated wink, and he throws his shirt at you playfully in response.

“Yeah yeah, keep the flirting to a minimum, darlin’. It’s hot enough in here as is, my blood will boil if you take any clothes off,” he jokes, laying back down next to you.

You breathe out a soft laugh, practically magnetizing to him when he opens an arm for you to snuggle into him. Eddie may swelter the whole night, but for you it’s worth it.

“On second thought, naked cuddles sound preeeetttttttyyyyy good right now,” Eddie muses.

So maybe you compromise, and maybe Eddie ends up being the one who can’t keep himself off of you.

[towriteloveontheirarms]

Wipe game: Barbenheimer Aemond!

Leah! I hope you´re doing well bby💕

(Snippet under the cut for convenience)

As you pay and the tickets print however, there comes a scoff from behind. You barely need to turn around to see a tall, blond guy dressed in all black. The pretentiousness practically oozes off of him. While the smaller, stockier guy beside him only eyes the two of you with very not innocent eyes. Alys lays her hand on your shoulder when she sees your mouth open to take a deep breath, but there is no holding you back.

"You got a problem?" You ask the taller blond in a clipped tone. One of your hands finding its way to your hip in a confident stance.

The guy´s one blue eye, wanders over your form again. Taking in the hot pink tube top and mini skirt that barely cover your body as he ever so slightly puckers his lips.

“Not at all. I don´t even know you, so how could I possibly have any problems with you?” Oh how much you want to wipe that smug fucking smirk off his face. He doesn´t even need to say it. The glimmer in his eye tells it all. He wasn´t about to fight someone as presumptuously air headed as you are. Only that you aren´t.

"Oh yeah? Cause to me it sounds like you do. And let me tell you one thing. I met more than enough guys like you, to know what your deal is."

"Hm, care to enlighten me then?"

[fka-leah]

now name YOUR top 5 genshin characters 🫵🏾

oof I had to go through the character archive for this one.

MONSIEUR NEUVILLETTE !! — 🥺 love that damn dragon. his character story & his role in the archon quest made me so emotional.

tighnari — first bow user I’ve ever main, love his bob with the peekaboo highlights

bennett — best support in the game honestly

arlecchino !! — she’s a little rough around the edges but she’s a good father. she has extremely unique playstyle that takes a while to get used too which is why she’s soo cool 😞 and she’s the second harbinger I got (if you count the wanderer)

Dainslef !! — I can’t wait for his quest in the next update. another character I plan out rolling for in the future