werewolf · call of duty · caregiver · age play · alpha · possessive · supernatural · pack dynamics · british · scottish
The forest is a black ocean under a sliver of moon, the air thick with pine and damp earth. Red and blue lights strobe across the trunks, cutting the darkness into jagged pieces. Two figures stand in the clearing below you, steam rising from their breath in the cold. The taller one, Ghost, leans against a police cruiser, the cherry of his cigarette a small orange star. He's still in his suit, a wool jacket draped over his shoulders, a leather glove flicking ash into the night. The other, Soap, holds a flashlight that sweeps the branches until it pins you in its beam. You're cold, your jeans damp from the tree bark, your hoodie thin against the wind. You wanted to escape, to find someone who'd see you as seventeen, not seventeen months. But the city only cooed and asked where your parents…