#I just want these two to live happy in their cottage in the woods with the garden and-

[lucamilo]

The Imperium

Vindemiator/Freelancer

These two make me so emotional, I adore them starts sobbing

[peachdues]

IN THE NETHERWOOD

PART I

KINKTOBER 2023 ♤ WEREWOLF!SANEMI X RED RIDING HOOD! READER

A/N: did I get carried away? Yes. Do I care? No.

Part I is plot + smut. Part II is minimal plot and a lot of smut. Like a concerning amount.

Forgive the pace/editing errors. This was supposed to be a one shot that turned into a two part fic lmao.

CW: violence/some description of gore • mating • knotting/discussions of knotting • biting/mating • feral/protective Sanemi • virgin!Reader who is a big time monsterfucker • oral sex (F!receiving) • Sanemi makes a mess of his breeches • implied murder/other violence by Douma, but left purposefully ambiguous • brief description of another human being eaten

This honestly could be a multi-part fic that continues after Part II, given how much I leave open — but I’ll let you all decide if you want that. For now, enjoy the ride, monster-fuckers. Happy Kinktober!

You’d known Douma’s band of acolytes had been pursuing you for at least a quarter of a mile through the dark wood, and you’d only grown more and more desperate as the excited titter of their voices drew nearer.

You were panicking; with every moment that passed, your legs grew heavier as the weariness of the last day and a half of your journey became a weight you could no longer ignore.

Find the huntsman of the Netherwood! Your grandmother had pled as she’d fastened the thick, scarlet cloak around your shoulders. He guides those in need to far-away villages. He will take you somewhere safe — where Douma cannot find you.

Grandmother did not dare let any of the tears sparkling in her eyes fall as she looped her hands behind you and pulled the hood of your cloak up over your head, concealing your hair from sight. Head north until you come to the river and then head west. You will find his cabin. Go!

Granny had all but pushed you out of her small cottage — the cottage you had come to regard as your home — and off into the chilly, autumn night.

You hadn’t questioned the urgency, though the realization that you would likely never again return to your grandmother — or even see her alive — hadn’t stung any less. But you knew, as well as the old woman who’d raised you after your parents disappeared in the Netherwood, that if Douma got his hands on you, you would never be seen or heard from again.

Just like his four other previous wives.

The last woman he’d taken as his bride had been a dear friend of yours — Kotoha — and she’s arguably lasted the longest, though perhaps that was because she’d been pregnant when the frost lotus containing his marriage demand arrived at her parents’ hut.

The eclectic village worship leader hadn’t apparently minded that Kotoha had been pregnant with another man’s child — she was unmarried, young, and beautiful; it was all Douma required.

The tension among the village women had dissipated once Kotoha had survived the first week of her union with the rainbow-eyed monster. After all, the other three wives had barely lived to see the next morning, never mind seven.

Kotoha had lived several more months — even giving birth to a beautiful, healthy baby boy whom she’d doted over, and even you thought that perhaps the rumors swirling through the village had been wrong. Perhaps those other three women truly had run off into the night with various lovers, leaving Douma alone in his mansion in the eastern wing of the village.

The last you’d seen her, your friend had been smiling and bright, happily making her way back to her marital home, baby Inosuke happily snuggled against her chest, as she’d cheerfully waved you goodbye.

Kotoha was never heard from again. Though the village elders had dispatched a recovery team to search for her, no trace of either her, nor the precious baby boy whom she’d loved so dearly, could be found.

A week later, your grandmother opened the front door of her homely cottage to find a single frost lotus resting on her doorstep.

No one turned down Douma’s marriage proposals; but neither did anyone survive them.

And so, your grandmother had packed a small satchel with what meager provisions she could scrounge, wrapped you in her heirloomed scarlet cloak, and pushed you out the door, begging you to find the mysterious huntsman of the Netherwood so that you would not become the village’s newest ghost.

Douma had surely slaughtered your beloved grandmother by now, having learned of her insolence.

You clamped down on the mournful sob building in your throat, knowing if you allowed yourself to give into your grief, it would only slow you down even further, and make it more likely that her sacrifice for your life would be in vain.

Though, in fairness, it might all be for naught anyways; the Netherwood was not a humble forest with only the occasional gray wolf or hungry bear to fear.

For centuries, your village had stood on the outskirts of the dark, ancient wood which divided it from the nervous system of villages and bustling little towns that made up the region. That isolation meant your village had become largely self-sustaining, though a few brave souls managed to make a yearly sojourn across the Wood to trade with establishments on the other side. The forest stretched for miles, encompassing small mountains and rocking ravines that were difficult enough to navigate on their own, especially in disagreeable weather.

But rugged and often temperamental terrain was child’s play compared to the horrors which lurked within the shadows of the Wood.

To start, as you’d come to realize over the last day and a half of your trek, the Netherwood was nothing but shadow. Though you’d surely traveled through the night and well into the following day, not a trace of daylight had pierced the thick canopy of leaves and twisted vines which loomed overhead. Your only indicator that day had, in fact, arrived, had been your sighting of a few songbirds quietly fluttering from tree to tree, as their songs swallowed by the deafening silence of the forest.

But the eerie quiet of the Wood was nothing compared to what you knew prowled within its depths.

You’d grown up hearing tales of the various beasts and cryptids that made the Netherwood their home – and made any unsuspecting traveler their meal. Your own parents had embarked on a dangerous trek into the Netherwood, seeking out a village on the other side rumored to have much-needed medication for your ailing grandfather, only to never be seen or heard from again. Your grandfather had succumbed to his illness not long after, though you’d often wondered whether his guilt and heartbreak hadn’t hastened his demise.

And so the Netherwood had taken your parents and your grandfather, leaving you with only your cherished grandmother as your family. Over the years, those who dared venture into the Wood often did not return, the dark of the forest swallowing them whole and leaving no trace of them behind.

Now, it was through this very Wood that you found yourself running, clinging to the desperate hope that perhaps you’d find this mysterious Huntsman and be saved, though the sluggishness that had entered your exhausted limbs seemed to suggest that you were more likely to be caught by your pursuers. And that was assuming you didn’t end up as something dinner’s before then.

You continued to stumble through the trees, ducking under various branches and batting away stringy spiderwebs, trying not to allow your frustration to get the better of you. After a while, the voices tracking you grew more and more silent, before the walls of the forest swallowed them completely, leaving you utterly alone. 

As you shoved brush and thorns out of your way, the forest opened to give way to a small river, though it was barely more than a creek. It bubbled merrily, as though completely unaware of the horrors lurking behind the shadows of the ancient grove of trees. 

Several lengths ahead, you spotted something crouched beside the water. Your first instinct was panic, thinking you’d stumbled across one of the nefarious creatures of the Wood, a meal being offered to it on a silver platter, but as your vision adjusted, you realized it was only a man, splashing his face with the creek’s cool reserve.

“A-are you the Huntsman?” You hated how timid your voice was, but truthfully, you’d been running for what felt like an eternity, and each snap of a twig in the Woods around had you on edge. You deserved to be frightened, dammit. 

The man snorted before rising to his feet. “I am a Huntsman; whether I am the one you seek, I cannot say.”

 He was taller than you and well-built. His tunic boasted a deep v at the chest exposing a vast swath of the man’s sculpted chest, the skin as scarred as his broad forearms. His breeches were by no means skintight, but it was clear his legs were also made from the same, sinewy muscle that covered the rest of him.

Idly, you wondered whether he was as scarred beneath his clothing as he was out of it. 

He was handsome, there was no doubt, but his appearance was striking. He had a mop of silvery-white hair, parted slightly to cover the criss-cross of scars etched into the right side of his forehead. Below a pair of startling lilac eyes, you could just make out another jagged scar that extended from his right ear to the bridge of his nose. 

He turned back to you, mouth pulled down in an annoyed grimace. “What is your business in the Wood, girl?” 

His eyes roamed the crimson cloak draped around your shoulders, and you swore for a moment there was something akin to amusement glinting in his eyes, despite the severe set of his mouth. 

You shuddered at the sharp intensity of his lilac gaze. “I seek a guide through the Wood — I need to get to one of the villages on the other side.”

Something in the forest snapped and you flinched, though it did not bother the Huntsman, who only narrowed his eyes at you. 

“Are you being pursued?” 

You nodded, your fingers tightening around the folds of your cloak and wrapping it tighter around your shivering frame. “I do not know how many, but they have dogs.”

The Huntsman nodded, stroking his chin in contemplation. “I can get you to the other side in two days; three at most, should your followers pose a problem.” 

You were floored at how easily he accepted your request, even with the additional threat of being hunted like animals by Douma’s men, but you were grateful all the same. 

“I have payment,” you started, hands shooting to dig through the small pouch fastened around your waist, but the wild Huntsman only shook his head. 

“I do not take payment. I will escort you and then I won’t have to worry about any creatures of the Wood sniffing out your bones and getting too close.”

Charming, you groused in your head, though the implication nestled in his words sent another shudder down your spine. 

“What is your name, girl?” The Huntsman’s voice pulled you back to him and the forest, his face expectant. 

You gave him your name and felt a warmth spread through you as he repeated it, mouth mulling over each syllable like it was wrapped with velvet.

“You can call me Sanemi,” the Huntsman said, reaching for the hand-axe lying on its side by the riverbank. “Follow me.” 

---

The Hunstman led you through a winding path that would have been untraceable had you not been watching the way Sanemi’s eyes marked certain landmarks — an errant tree branch here, a particular thorn bush there. 

“Since you are being tracked, we need to move right away,” Sanemi had explained as you stumbled after him, your feet snaring over the various bumps and snarls of tree roots that jutted out from the forest floor. “But I need to gather a few things from my cabin. It’s just a little ways off, and then we will leave.”

Sanemi had largely ignored you for the rest of the trek, though he’d only cut his eyes back to you to ask a single question. 

“Where did you get that cloak?”

You fingered the heavy edge of the ruby wool that your grandmother had fastened snug around your shoulders, its thick folds providing you protection against the biting chill of the autumn wind. “It is an heirloom. My grandmother said it would keep me safe.” 

The Huntsman hummed quietly to himself. “That is one word for it, I suppose.” 

“How do you mean?” 

Sanemi slowed his pace so that you could catch up and walk beside him as he spoke. 

“That cloak is enchanted. Have you not noticed the strange stitching along the hood?” 

Your hands flew to grip the edge of the hood drawn over your head. Sure enough, beneath the pads of your fingertips, you could feel the odd swirls of thread forming some indiscernible shapes along the outermost portion of the cape’s top. 

“I’d not; this was not my cloak to begin with. It was my Grandmother’s.” You did not know why the Huntsman’s tone made you feel self-conscious, as though you’d been too stupid to notice such an obvious variation in the cape snugly fastened around you. It wasn’t as though you’d been afforded a great deal to time to look over it, in those hurried moments before Grandmother had shoved you through her front door and into the Wood beyond. 

Sanemi only shrugged as he continued on ahead, putting distance between you once more, but he called back one final time. “Red is a symbol for many things, girl. I hope your Grandmother at least warned you of that.”

----

Sanemi's cabin was small, but homely. You'd been waiting uneasily near the unlit fireplace at the center of the single-room cabin, unsure whether it would be considered ill-mannered for you to drape yourself across one of the overstuffed armchairs pointed towards the hearth, as the Huntsman milled about, gathering various supplies.

"Have you any preference for which village I take you to?" He called as he rifled through a sparsely-stocked cabinet, scooping up dried provisions into a small leather pouch.

You shook your head. "No, I wish only to get as far away from the Wood as possible."

Sanemi nodded, stalking past you to open another cupboard. Glinting against the dimming light outside, you saw the curved blade of an axe, sharp and polished.

"I can make do with that," the Huntsman said simply. "Though should we run into any weather, it may take longer than three days to reach the other side of the Wood."

You picked nervously at your nails. Any response you could have given him was cut off by the faint cacophany of voices somewhere in the distance.

Brow furrowed, Sanemi crossed the floor of his cabin to a small window and squinted through the fogged glass. Over his shoulder, you could spy the faint glow of fire making its way towards the cabin.

Torches.

You did not need to guess whose torches they were; there was only one reason for a band of men to be in the Netherwood at this hour.

"It's them," you whispered in horror, your heart sinking to your stomach. "The man who is after me -- they're his -- followers. I hesitate to call them men."

Sanemi's eyes narrowed as he glanced back out the window, and you swore you saw his nostrils flare, as though scenting the air.

He gripped you by your forearm, tugging you further into his cabin. “We don’t have much time until they come knocking. I think I can hold them off — but you have to trust me.” 

You looked over the wild man, from the thick, silvery scars seared into the rippled muscles of his forearms to the thinner, more delicate scars which crossed half his face, swallowing down any fear you’d had of the huntsman upon first stumbling upon him by the river. 

You’d been scared of him, but you feared the fate awaiting you at the hands of Douma and his cronies far more; and so, you were desperate enough to place your life in Sanemi’s rough, calloused hands. 

“I trust you,” you vowed, though your voice trembled slightly. “Please just don’t let them take me.”

Something in Sanemi’s eyes tightened as he looked over you, but he nodded, hands reaching for the small pouch strapped to his upper thigh. 

“I’m sure you’re going to protest what I’m about to do,” he said quickly, producing a small hunting knife from the pocket. “But I need you to believe me when I say this is the only way.” 

“Take off your cloak.” Sanemi ordered, standing tall before you, hand out in waiting. 

Your hands flew hesitantly to the metal clasp resting just below the hollow of your throat. “But my grandmother said —“ 

“I know what your grandmother said, girl, but I’m telling you, that cloak will do you no good indoors. It is only effective out in the Wood.” 

You could tell the huntsman’s patience was wearing thin, but still, you hesitated. 

Sanemi huffed impatiently. “I swear to you I will return it the moment they leave, but you must remove it now. They will use it to track your scent.” 

You shuddered as your fingers quickly freed the small latch, and the crimson wool draped around your shoulders loosened. With some hesitancy, you held your cloak out to the huntsman, who balled the fabric up tight before crossing the floor of his cabin, shoving it into a small armoire and behind several hung pelts and well-worn leathers. 

Sanemi was before you once more before you could blink. “Turn around,” he ordered, twirling the knife in his hand to motion you to spin and put your back to him. 

You complied without protest, hands twiddling nervously before you, until you heard the unmistakeable sound of fabric tearing at your back. 

The corset worn over the cotton layers of your dress loosened and fell to the cabin floor, it’s ribboned ties neatly severed where they’d been laced at your back. 

“What in the devil —,” you began hotly, arms jumping to cross over your unsupported chest as you twisted to glare at the huntsman. 

A warm hand firmly pushed your shoulder, keeping you facing forward. “Hold still, woman,” Sanemi barked, and the heat at your back disappeared for a moment as you felt him kneel behind you. 

To your horror, you felt the outermost layer of your dress lift up and away from you as Sanemi rose, bringing the garment up over your head. 

“I asked you to help me, you dog!” You squealed, your attempts to squirm away from the mannerless huntsman at your back futile. “Not strip me bare to do with as you please!” 

Behind you, Sanemi gave a great snort. “Helpin’ you is exactly what I’m doing, if you’d shut up for one second.” 

Left in nothing but your thin, cotton shift, you silently wondered whether you should’ve taken your chances and continued your trek through the Wood. Surely, being eaten by one of the Netherwood’s more nefarious creatures of horror was preferable to being stripped nude by a half-wild brute in his isolated cabin. 

Your musings were cut short, however, as a firm hand wrapped around your forearm and tugged you towards the back of the cabin, where a small doorway closed off the hut’s only other room. 

Sanemi kicked the door open revealing a surprisingly large bed, draped in blankets made of the furs of several different animals. 

“N-no —mmph!” Your protest was cut off by Sanemi’s free hand as it clamped over your mouth as he hissed at you to shush. 

Over the sound of your thudding heart and hard breath as you planted against the huntsman’s palm, you heard the faint but unmistakable sound of male laughter and jeers, cruel and cold. 

“They will be here any moment,” Sanemi said lowly, and he removed the hand from your mouth in favor of shoving you none too gently into the small bedroom. Before you could speak, the huntsman gripped you around the waist and tossed you effortlessly onto the bed, your body bouncing slightly against the soft plush. 

“Get under the covers and lay face-down in the pillows. Let your hair cover you.” 

Scrambling up against the headboard, you looked back to your savior or your villain — you’d not yet decided under which category he fell — but saw that he was already standing back in the doorway, jaw tense and his eyes trained on the front door of his cabin. 

He glanced back to you only once. “And move that thing off to your shoulders. Make yourself appear as though you’re indecent.” 

With that, the huntsman quickly shut the door to his bedroom, just as a fist pounded against the wood of the door outside. 

You kicked your way under the many pelts adorning the bed, savoring their warmth against your chilled skin. Remembering Sanemi’s final warning, you tugged the sleeves of your shift off your shoulders, concealing it and the rest of your body below the soft fur blankets. 

The front door of the cabin opened, and you buried your face into one of the pillows resting against the headboard, begging the comforting scent of forest pine and cedar to calm your raging pulse. 

“How can I help you gentlemen this evening?” Sanemi called, and you almost laughed at how cordial he sounded, as though he hadn’t just cut your dress from you like a brute. 

Any smile you had was immediately wiped from your face at the cold, steely voice which answered him. “We’re searching for a woman. She belongs to someone who is eager to get her back.” 

You balled the pelts below you in your fists, teeth grinding. Of course, you’d never actually agreed to marrying Douma, and yet the beast felt entitled to claim ownership over you, as though you were no better than a piece of furniture. 

Though, you supposed that wasn’t quite an accurate comparison. Furniture survived Douma; women did not. 

“Is that so?” Sanemi’s hardened tone sent shivers down your spine, and you wondered whether his face matched the stony, scathing cadence of his voice. “Well unfortunately for you boys, it’s just me and the wife here. And you’ve interrupted us.” 

“Our apologies,” the scout said, though it did not sound as though he was sorry at all. “But you won’t mind us taking a peak? Just t make sure you and your wife don’t have a visitor.” 

Sanemi’s answering snarl was soft, but it did not conceal the deadly threat contained within. “Surely you understand why I cannot let a number of strange men into my home, while my wife is indisposed.” 

You had to give him credit; Sanemi sounded every bit the dominating, over-protective husband he was pretending to be. 

There was a beat before Sanemi sighed, his irritation almost convincing. “Make it quick. And do not enter the bedroom.” 

There was a shuffle of feet, heavy and booted, that crossed the threshold of the cabin, and the hair on your skin rose at the charge of violence which filled the air. Breath caught in your throat, you buried your face deeper into the huntsman’s mattress and prayed his ruse would be successful. 

The door to the bedroom banged open, startling you with a squeal as you ruched deeper below the pelts. 

“I told you to stay out of the bedroom,” Sanemi’s voice almost sounded bored, but it was thankfully close. Your eyes slid closed as you willed your heart to slow its drumbeat against your sternum as the resulting silence hung thick in the air. 

“Our apologies,” the apparent leader of Douma’s band of henchmen bit out, his tone acerbic, and his frustration evident. The bedroom door slammed shut once more, and the heavy footsteps quickly made their way back through the cabin and out the front door. 

All remained silent in the huntsman’s cabin for several, long moments, and you did not dare to rise from the bed that had become your sanctuary. 

After what felt like an eternity, the door to Sanemi’s sleeping chamber pushed open, the light from the main room of the cabin flooding in. 

“They are gone,” the huntsman said simply. “It is safe for you to come back out.” 

You turned over and rose from his bed, quickly tugging the sleeves of your thin shift back up over your bare shoulders, if not to preserve the last shred of your modesty that the huntsman before you hadn’t cut away. 

You were startled by his appearance in the doorway. Though his eyes remained fixed on the wood floor of the cabin, you saw that the man before you was nearly as stripped as you were. 

Somehow, in the few precious seconds between him throwing you onto his bed and Douma’s men barging through the cabin door, Sanemi had discarded his lined shirt, leaving everything from the waist-up bare. The only garment which remained on him were his deerskin breeches, and Sanemi had somehow undone its front laces, loosening their fit around his hips. Between the undone cords, you spied a thin trail of silver hair that begun just below his navel and disappeared below the seam of his pants.

It was admirable the dedication Sanemi had shown in perfecting your ruse. To the untrained eye, it truly looked as though Douma’s men had indeed interrupted a husband and his wife as they’d been engaged in acts you’d been told were reserved for the marital bed, the disheveled state of Sanemi’s breeches giving the distinct appearance of having been just barely tugged over naked hips. 

The thought made your mouth run dry, and something hot flared in your belly.

Sanemi ignored your apparent ogling of him, as he produced his discarded tunic from the floor where he'd tossed it and shrugged it back over his head.

Wordlessly, he gathered the shredded remains of your corset and handed it to you, keeping his gaze averted to allow you to redress. You managed to pull on your outer skirts back over your shirt, but you fingered the torn strap of your corset.

“You ruined it,” you said, nose wrinkling as you punched it between your thumb and index finger. “I cannot lace it when you’ve torn the stays.”

Sanemi frowned, and if you hadn’t known better, you would have thought he looked slightly apologetic for the state of your outer-corset.

“Corset woes aside, we need to go now, if we are to have any chance of getting you to another village before your fiancé’s men catch up to us.” Sanemi grabbed the leather satchel he'd been packing before Douma's men had interrupted and began filling it once more. 

You scowled. “He is not my fiancé,” 

“Your keeper, then.” Sanemi amended. The Huntsman stalked back over to the armoire in his sitting room and wrenched the worn doors open, pulling out several pieces of cloth.

“Here,” he said gruffly, tossing you a balled wad of crimson wool. “As promised.” 

You accepted the cloak with a small, uttered thanks, and fastened it quickly around your shoulders. The Huntsman then turned to dig through a small cabinet, returning before you with a small spool of sturdy, leather cord.

He held it out to you. “For your corset,” he said gruffly, his cheeks slightly pink. Feeling your own blush creep up your neck, you accepted the offering. Picking the torn garment up once more, you slid it over your shoulders and used Sanemi’s cords to lace the front together.

Truthfully, the finished product wasn’t half bad; the cord was long enough to cross all the way up to the top of the corset, with enough leftover to allow you to pull it and secure it in place around your bust. You tied off the cord with a pleased nod, before looking back to Sanemi in gratitude. Before you could properly thank him, the Huntsman thrust a small basket into your newly freed hand.

"Provisions. For the journey." He said by way of explanation, and you nodded, nestling the handle into the crook of your arm.

Without so much as a glance around the cabin, Sanemi wrenched the door open and allowed you to pass through the entryway first, pausing behind you only to tightly latch the door shut.

And the two of you set off into the Netherwood.

———

You were no time-keeper by any means, especially in a place like the Wood where daylight was hard enough to find; but it felt like hours had passed since you last spoke to the Huntsman, and the silence was pressing heavily upon you — especially the deeper you ventured into the dark of the Wood.

Though Sanemi had been walking ahead of you, you took it upon yourself to increase your pace, until you walked astride with him.

“How long have you been guiding others through the Netherwood?” You asked lightly, hoping that some — any — conversation you could have with the stoic woodsman would distract you from the odd growls and noises concealed within the forest’s shadows.

“A while.” Sanemi’s answer was as brisk as his pace, and you struggled to match it. 

“Have you lived here your whole life, or are you from one of the villages nearby?” You pressed, scanning your memory as you tried to recall whether there had ever been a boy with white hair and a scarred face in your village. 

“No.” 

You waited for him to elaborate, but Sanemi offered no further explanation. You sighed and fell back behind him; if this was to be his attitude the entire journey, you were in for a long few days. 

The pair of you had traveled for what felt like several more hours without a word before the silence began to irritate you. You sped up your pace until your stride matched the Huntsman’s, walking with him side by side. 

“Why do you live alone in the Netherwood?” You twirled the basket around your hand as the pair of you walked, the nerves you’d felt upon first starting the journey through the Wood having long since abated, in no short part due to the presence of the Huntsman and his axe by your side. 

Sanemi did not turn towards you, his eyes remaining fixed on the bramble ahead. “Why did you venture into the Wood alone?” 

You groaned. “Is this how our entire journey is to go? Either you give me mono-syllable answers, or every time I ask a question, you avoid answering by responding with your own?” 

“That depends, do you intend to keep asking me questions?”

You barely resisted the urge to whack the sullen Huntsman with your basket. “Unbelievable,” you grumbled. “Your time here in the Wood has turned you into a curmudgeonly hermit.” 

Sanemi snorted. “You assume I wasn’t  one to begin with.” 

“I can’t imagine someone who helps travelers cross the Wood was always so  churlish and miserable.” You shot back. 

The Huntsman remained quiet for a moment, though his air did not carry the same cold standoffishness that you’d come to understand meant he was ignoring you. Rather, Sanemi seemed to be in thought. 

“It has been nearly four years,” he said after a long while. “Since I began helping travelers cross the Wood.” 

Your eyes widened. “Four years?” That was an awfully long time to risk one’s neck for the sake of strangers — some of whom, you realized, may not have been all that good. 

Sanemi nodded and you whistled. “I’m sure you’ve seen many kinds of people attempting to traverse through the Wood.”

“There are only two types of travelers,” Sanemi disagreed. “Those who live to make it to my door, and those who do not. I try not to pry into the privacies of those who do manage to find me.” He cut his eyes at you, accusingly. “And usually, they aren’t so eager to pry into mine.”

You ignored the jab, though it bruised your ego more than you wanted to admit. “You don’t like people, yet you’ve crafted your entire existence around serving them.” You could not stop the amused edge in your words. “It is quite ironic, you have to admit.”

Sanemi refused to dignify you with a response, and so the first leg of your journey continued in relative silence.

The stifling quiet that extended between the Huntsman and you finally subsided once Sanemi announced you’d be stopping for the night and making camp. He’d been quick to notice your unease as you’d cast your eyes nervously around the shadowed trees of the Wood, assuring you that you all were in an area less-frequented by the various terrors that called the forest home.

“I will sit and keep watch,” Sanemi said as you’d curled up against the leaves of the forest floor, your red cloak pulled tight around your frame to block out the autumn night’s chill. “So try and sleep.”

“You are asking me to put a great deal of trust in you, Huntsman,” you said softly, but in truth, you did not feel nearly as afraid of him as you perhaps had earlier in the day.

He snorted, dismissively. “I’ve had you in my bed already, have I not? If I was going to harm you, girl, I would’ve already done so.”

Something tightened in his eyes as he dropped your gaze. “And I would never do such a thing to a woman.”

There was a quiet pain in his vow, such that you did not think his words were entirely meant for your ears. But they comforted you nonetheless, and so, still facing the handsome and mysterious Huntsman, you allowed yourself to relax enough to drift off into a dreamless sleep.

---

The journey was taking longer than Sanemi originally believed.

Three days into your travels with the Huntsman, and you’d barely reached the halfway point in the Wood. Though, that was not due to any fault of Sanemi’s; there’d been a few times when he’d stopped mid-stride, eyes narrowed on some unseen thing deep within the forest that you could not see, but concerned him enough to change course. When you asked, the Huntsman had only grumbled that he’d heard suspicious movement ahead, and that he knew whatever it was, it likely wasn’t human.

You didn’t bother to question his judgment. After all, it was Sanemi who was the expert in traversing through the Wood. You, however, had spent the better part of three days understanding how utterly helpless you were without him.

You hadn’t meant to stumble across it. 

You’d only meant to go relieve yourself behind a tree — a simple evergreen, that had looked innocent and unassuming enough. 

As you’d quickly learned, however, upon squatting near the tree’s base, it was anything but innocent. For no sooner had you moved to pull your skirts out of the way had you felt a spiny hand close around your forearm, its knife-sharp fingers digging into your flesh.

The withered, bony had was connected to a sinewy arm, covered in ridged, black skin that made up the panting, salivating bat-like creature that had managed to camouflage itself against the bark of the tree.

You’d taken one look at the rows of sharp, yellow teeth and screamed loud enough to startle the dead.

Loud enough to bring a certain Huntsman crashing through the brush, axe clutched tightly in hand, his eyes wild and bright.

“Duck,” he’d barked once, and somehow you’d managed to wrench yourself to the side of the devil as Sanemi’s weapon buried deep into the creature’s face, the beast releasing your arm and stumbling back with a pitiful gurgle before it dropped to the floor.

You’d hardly had the chance to collect yourself before the Huntsman was stomping over to you, yanking you up by your bicep and dragging you away from the nefarious little tree.

“A goddamned hidebehind,” he furiously spat. “Of all things to provoke, you choose a fucking hidebehind.”

Sanemi ignored your slight protests at being manhandled back to the path he’d identified as leading out of the Wood, too lost in his own raging assessment of you.

“How the devil a pretty little thing like you managed to make it to my door in one piece is the only thing that makes me consider there may be a higher power, given how foolishly reckless you act in the Woods where there’s no shortage of creatures that would want to devour you —“ 

The Huntsman continued his rant, but your ears only picked up on a single fragment of his ramblings.

“You think me pretty?” It was silly, yet the notion that the devilishly handsome Huntsman accompanying you found you worth looking at made something in your stomach flutter. 

Sanemi shot you a withering glare. “You may think me a miserable recluse, girl, but even I have eyes.”

You didn’t know why, but the comment made you smile for the rest of the night, a curious warmth blooming in your chest.

----

You settled for the night among a small circle of trees. Sanemi had helped you shake down a bed of pine needles from a nearby tree, allowing the fragrant nettles to form a soft bed for you against the forest floor.

You watched him repeat the process to make his own bed, your eyes curious. "You seem to have a great deal of experience with this," you mused.

Sanemi produced a single apple from his pouch and sliced it in half with a small hunting knife he kept strapped to his hip. He tossed you one half before he stretched out on his pine needle bed, propping up one cheek on his fist as he faced you. "I s'ppose sleeping outdoors is something of a family trait."

That piqued your curiosity. Though Sanemi had not divulged any details of his personal life with you, you'd assumed he'd been a true loner in his cabin in the Wood.

“You speak as though you still have family,” You bit into your half of the fruit, chewing slowly as you thought. “Do you?” 

Sanemi nodded. “No parents to speak of, but a younger brother — a few years younger than you. Still a boy, though in a man’s body.” He scowled. “The little brat has outgrown me.” 

You smiled at the obvious fondness belying the irritation on his face. “A boy bigger than you? I find that hard to believe.”

Your gentle praise had the intended effect of making the Huntsman look slightly smug, before the same sour look passed his face. “He has grown slightly taller than I, and by all accounts is still growing. I have a feeling he will try and hold it over my head the next time I see him.”

You wondered if Sanemi’s younger brother would literally do so, and the thought made you smile. 

“You said the next time you see him, but you’ve said you have no parents — where does he live, if not with you?” 

Sanemi grimaced, chucking the last of his apple core behind his shoulders. He remained quiet for a long moment before answering. 

“He lives with a friend; he can take better care of him than I can right now.” 

Something about the Huntsman’s tone made it clear the topic was a sensitive subject for the young Huntsman, and so you elected not to press the matter further.

“And what of you?” Sanemi said gruffly, surprising you with his willingness to engage in conversation as the two of you continued your trek. “I know you said you had a Grandmother, as she was the one to give you that.”

He nodded pointedly at your cloak, and you saw that curious heat enter his eyes once more at they combed over the scarlet wool draped around your frame. But the mention of your grandmother caused a lump to form in your throat that took you several moments to work around, the damning prickle of tears stinging your eyes. 

“I do,” you said hoarsely after a moment. “Though I do not know if she survived after helping me escape Douma. Even if she did, I know I shall never see her again.”

Though your vision had become blurred by your tears, you could have sworn you saw Sanemi’s hand twitched towards you at the sound of the wobble in your voice. 

“Douma,” he repeated. “Is that the person you’re fleeing from?” 

You nodded, exhaling a shaky sigh. “He claims to be my fiancé but I accepted no such proposal.” 

Sanemi leaned against the wood of a tree opposite from you, arms folding across his chest. “Then he does not know what it means to be a fiancé,”

You gave a watery chuckle. “No, I suppose he does not.” You chewed on your lip for a moment. “But Douma does not ask; he demands and he expects. His offer was not really a request for my hand — it was a warning that he would collect me to do with as he pleased.”

Sanemi tensed. “What do you mean by that?” 

You combed your fingers through the tangled tresses of your hair, and anxious habit you’d had for as long as you could remember. “In the last three years, Douma has taken four young women from the village to be his wife; every one of them has since disappeared.” 

The Huntsman sucked in a shocked breath. “What has happened to them? Has anyone searched?” 

You smiled ruefully. “I do not know; no one does. Search parties were dispensed each time, but those who looked came back empty-handed.” Your eyes remained fixed on the small, flickering flame of the campfire. “He claimed the first three ran away into the Wood; said they’d left him to be with a lover.” 

You wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, seeking comfort in your grandmother’s cloak. “Quite the coincidence, is it not?” 

“Quite nefarious,” Sanemi remarked darkly, shaking his head. “And what of the fourth wife?” 

Your head dropped. “My dear friend, Kotoha,” you felt the tears begin to gather in your eyes once more. “She was pregnant when Douma demanded her hand, but he did not appear to care. She gave birth a few months later — a beautiful baby boy named Inosuke.” 

“She seemed happy for a while after that, and I thought perhaps Douma had been telling the truth; by all accounts, he was kind towards her,” you continued, fighting the shiver trying to lick its way up your spine. “But then Kotoha disappeared, and Inosuke, too.” 

Sanemi stiffened at that. “When was this?” He asked suddenly, his tone urgent.

You looked up at him, startled. “Just a week before I found you.” 

Sanemi swore lowly, his hand dragging over his face. At your questioning look, he continued.

“A few days before we met, I was leaving to check on a series of caves that I frequent in the east,” he began. “I was half a kilometer from your village when I —,” he hesitated. “Spotted a few men, dragging something through the trees. They seemed to come from your village.” 

Your heart dropped to your stomach. “Did you see —?” Your question choked off as your voice cracked. 

Sanemi shook his head. “All that was left was a pile of bones. Just one person’s. But there were shreds of cloths mixed in,” Sanemi’s mouth twisted down in a snarl. “Clothes belonging to a young child. But no sign of their bones among the adult’s.” 

A cold, clammy sweat broke out across your forehead. “But Kotoha was hardly missing a week — surely that’s not enough time for her to be reduced to bones?” 

Sanemi opened his mouth but closed it before he spoke, his eyebrows knitting together as he struggled for words. 

“I have seen things in the Wood that are  capable of stripping flesh in a matter of minutes,” he said carefully, eyes trained on your face. “It would not be unheard of.” 

You felt the blood drain from your face as nausea wracked through you. “Oh gods,” you moaned, arms shakily coming to rest upon your knees to brace your head as it fell into your hands. “Oh gods — Kotoha.” 

You remained like that for several moments, viciously fighting against the roiling of your stomach, desperate to keep down what meager rations you’d managed to eat. 

Sanemi called your name, soft and gentle. You waited a moment, focusing on taking several, steadying breaths before you lifted your head to meet his gaze.

“So that is to be my fate once he catches me,” you whispered in horror. “To be reduced to nothing more than a pile of bones and tossed into the Wood like garbage.” You shuddered as another wave of nauseous dread sluiced through you. “And I cannot even fathom what will be done to me before then.” 

“It will not,” Sanemi’s answering snarl was soft but vicious, and it broke through the cold terror threatening to knock you off your axis. “I will get you out of this forest and you will be free. Mark my words.” 

“Do not make promises you cannot keep, Sanemi.” You warned, your eyes still wide, haunted. “If he catches me, he will do worse to you; death will be a kindness he will withhold.”

Despite the solemnity of your words, Sanemi only scoffed. “I assure you, he would do no such thing.” He looked to you, eyes serious. “And I would kill him before he had the chance to so much as look your direction.”

You wanted to dismiss his words as nothing more than the bragging of an overconfident, idiotic man. But something in both Sanemi’s tone and the way he was leaning against the tree — one foot resting causally against the bark, the other stretched out before him, supporting his weight, with his arms folded across his chest — made you think perhaps Sanemi’s confidence was more than mere bravado. 

Even though you knew you shouldn't, you took comfort in it; in him.

"You're a good man, Sanemi," you said quietly. "Better than most."

Sanemi scoffed, shaking his head, but the shadow over his face betrayed his own internal turmoil. "I am not half the man you'd like me to be."

You quirked an eyebrow at him, head tilting in question. “Do you care what I think of you?” When the Huntsman did not answer, you pressed. “You worry that I think ill of you — why?”

Sanemi, at best, was confusing. Maddening. He spoke to you gruffly, as though his years in the Wood had made him forget all semblance of decorum and basic human decency.

Yet, there was something else, too; though you hadn’t much experience being desired by men, Sanemi had shown you a particular level of care. He always handed you your dried rations first, ensuring you’d eat your fill before he; he always offered a hand to help you over a particularly tricky stretch of terrain, carrying your basket for you without so much as you having to ask. 

Then, there’d been the way he’d cradled you close earlier in the day, when you stumbled upon the poor man whose body had been mangled and half-eaten by one of the Wood’s inhabitants. He hadn’t needed to tuck your head against his chest like he did, holding you tight as he spun the two of you out of range, to avoid joining the lost soul whose entrails were strewn across the forest floor; he hadn’t needed to comfort you and wipe your frightened tears.

But he had. 

The realization hit you like a boulder. “You feel protective of me,” you murmured in awe, your eyes locked onto him even as he shifted under the weight of your stare. 

Sanemi tried to scowl, but it came off as more a wince. “I feel protective towards any woman who is being treated as something to abuse. What your fake-fiancé has done is abhorrent.”

His voice quieted. “You do not deserve that fate. You deserve to find something good — something that will make you happy.”

You hummed, pretending you were in thought as you began to slowly close the distance between you. “I would like to be happy,” you conceded. 

“You should be,” Sanemi answered. 

“I have felt happy here in the Wood,” you continued. “Have you, Huntsman? Felt happy here in the Netherwood, I mean?”

Sanemi swallowed hard. “Perhaps.” 

You took another step. “Recently?”

“Recent enough,” Sanemi watched you warily, his voice like gravel. 

You clicked your tongue. “Have you enjoyed our time together? However brief?” 

At this, Sanemi rolled his eyes. “You have certainly kept things interesting, when you’re not desperately trying to become a meal for some hungry beast.” 

When you did not answer, Sanemi looked nervously back to you, and his voice softened. “Yes. I have enjoyed it.”

You felt like you were stripping him back, peeling back layers of sarcasm and steel that he’d carefully erected to keep himself from getting close — from caring.

But you were doing it; and he was letting you.

“And you think I’m pretty,” you added, taking another step towards him.

“Aye,” Sanemi croaked, his eyes fixed on your face, the the flicker of the small fire only adding to the heat blazing in his lilac gaze. 

You drew up before him, the toes of your boots just touching his. “I find you quite pretty as well, Huntsman.” 

Sanemi’s eyes closed, his shoulders tense. “I am to deliver you safely to the nearest village.” Lilac irises opened to meet yours and he looked at you gently; apologetically. “We cannot do this.” 

You did not balk. “And if I wanted to stay with you?” You whispered, fingers coming to toy with the folds of his tunic. “What would you say then?” 

Sanemi breathed out a soft sigh of your name, the syllables dripping like honey from his lips. “It is not possible, I’m afraid.” 

You looked up at him through lowered eyelashes and noted how his gaze flicked down to your lips before back to your eyes. “Why?” 

Sanemi’s hand gently brushed a few loose strands of hair back from your face, tucking them behind your ear, and you leaned into the warmth of his touch. “Because you are a beautiful, little lamb, and I am a wolf in a forest of beasts. You do not wish to spend your days here, in the darkness.” 

“You cannot speak to what I want,” you challenged, your fingers rising to clench around his wrist, to hold his hand in place against the side of your head. “My life is my own now; I have no set path.”

“But I would like to travel down yours,” you added quietly, after a moment. 

“It is not one open to transients,” Sanemi warned, though his other hand rose to rest against the dip in your waist, holding you against him.

You only shook your head. “I do not intend to be temporary, Sanemi. I wish to stay with you. I wish to help others as you have helped me.” 

“I’ve yet to help you,” Sanemi said wryly. “Our bargain was that I deliver you to one of the villages on the other side of the Wood. We are still making that journey.”

You stretched up on your toes and boldly pressed your lips against the hollow of his throat, savoring the skipping pace of his heart beneath your mouth. 

“A new bargain, then,” you offered. Sanemi said your name once, as though in warning, but when he did not levy any threat, you only continued, moving your lips up under his jaw.

“You get me to the other side of the Wood. If I still want to stay with you, then you will let me. If I don’t, we will part ways at the first village we come to.”

You’d kissed your way to his lips, but held back, allowing that final line to remain in place between you even as your resolve wavered against the force of your desire for him — for this Huntsman of the Netherwood. 

Sanemi’s eyes fell to your lips, hovering so very closely to his own. “You assume I want you to stay,” he murmured, though he made no move to push you away. “You assume I want to look after a lamb forever.” 

You smiled softly. “Even a lamb can help take care of a wolf.”

Sanemi’s eyes were full of a wariness edged by the faintest trace of hope. “Aye, I suppose that’s true.” The hand against the side of your head fell to caress your cheek. “And as infuriating as I find you to be,” he leaned in close, his lips just barely touching yours. “I do think you quite beautiful, little Lamb.”

You surged forward with a breathy gasp, lips feverishly meeting his as you begged the Huntsman to consume you whole. 

Sanemi responded with equal fervor, his arm locking tightly around your waist as the hand against your face tilted your head slightly to the right, allowing him to deepen the kiss. 

You’d shared a few stolen kisses here and there in your youth with some of the village boys, but never before had you been kissed like this. Never before had you known the passion and all-consuming vigor that the Huntsman poured into you, as he walked the two of you back over roots and loose stones to press you against the roughened bark of a nearby tree. 

No, those kisses had been child’s play. For the way Sanemi’s mouth moved against yours was enough to make you feel as though you’d been dipped in lantern oil and set aflame, and yet you could not find it within yourself to care that you were burning. Not when he molded you against the rigid planes of his body as though to absorb you into his being; not when his thigh slotted between yours, its muscle brushing against a sensitive spot between your legs that had you gasping and Sanemi groaning into your mouth. 

As quickly as it began, it ended, Sanemi breaking away from your lips with a strangled pant as he leapt back, as though scalded by the inferno he’d lit within you. 

There was something untamed in his gaze as he regarded you, his breath choppy as he collected himself. Still stunned by the ferocity with which he’d kissed you, your fingers jumped to your lips, noting the slight swelling now there. 

“I was wrong about you,” Sanemi said breathlessly, his cheeks tinged an alluring shade of pink. “You may not be a lamb after all.” 

Your fingers dropped from your lips as you raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying I am a wolf?” 

Sanemi shook his head, that wildness still blazing in his eyes. “No, not a wolf.” His voice dropped to a purr as he regarded you with a look that made your thighs clench. “You are temptation given physical form.” 

——-

 Neither of you spoke of what transpired against the tree for several hours, though you’d managed to brush aside any lingering awkwardness with light conversation about Sanemi’s time in the Netherwood.

And, despite any lingering doubt as to the sincerity of your words he may have had, Sanemi seemed to naturally gravitate towards you, his hands never straying far from your form as you walked. 

Truthfully, it made you giddy. You’d never experienced the thrill of another man’s touch while in the village, though Kotoha certainly hadn’t spared you any details. Vivid descriptions furtively whispered behind hands, however, were nothing compared to reality. Even Kotoha’s most blush-inducing tales paled in comparison to the electric flash you felt each time Sanemi’s warm hand gripped yours to steer you back from a particularly darkened corner of the woods, or the flutter in your stomach when he lifted you easily up and over unsteady ground, his hands always lingering for a spare second on your waist or the small of your back as you settled. 

It became harder to imagine leaving him once you reached the end of the Wood. With each passing hour, your conviction that you would remain alongside the mysterious Huntsman grew all the stronger. 

The pair of you were resting near a blackberry bush, you perched on a small boulder while Sanemi sharpened his axe, his hand running the small whetting stone against the curve of the blade with precision.

“Have you ever been in love?” The question broke the comfortable silence before you could think better of it.

Sanemi’s sharpening stone paused briefly before continuing along the curve of his axe. “Once,” he said, gruffly.  “Though we were so young, I don’t know if you could properly call it that.” 

You sat up, your curiosity piqued. “Where are they now?” 

The Huntsman hesitated. “She is long-gone. Died here, in the Wood.” 

Your heart clenched. “I’m sorry. I cannot imagine that grief.”

Sanemi did not respond, instead refocusing his attention back to his blade. “It was around four years ago, now.” 

Four years ago. Around the time Sanemi  had begun escorting lost souls through the Netherwood.

“Have you been in the Wood since?” You asked gently, trying to focus on a loose thread handing from your cloak so that he would not feel pressured by your stare. 

Sanemi nodded. “I think,” he cleared his throat. “I think I started helping others as a way to honor her. She was kind that way.”

You smiled at that. “She sounds wonderful; and you do right by her memory.” 

The Huntsman said nothing more, his silence more contemplative as he finished sharpening his weapon. 

By the time the pair of you set back off on your path through the Wood, the morning fog had somewhat subsided, though it’s mist lingered in the denser sections of the forest. 

“Is it normal to not have encountered many of the Wood’s creatures?” You bit down on the shudder you felt at the memory of the partially-eaten corpse you’d encountered a few days prior. “I feel as though we only see the aftermath of the beasts, rather than the monsters themselves.” 

Sanemi smirked quietly to himself, though you did not know what he found amusing about your question. “I suppose that cloak is keeping them at bay, Lamb.” 

You rolled your eyes, knocking your shoulder playfully against his. “Perhaps they’re frightened of the big bad Huntsman,” 

“Perhaps. I’m quite scary.” 

Your hand found his. “Not at all. In fact, I find you quite —“

Your thought was cut off, however, as Sanemi tore his hand from yours to hold an arm out before you, stilling you. You’d traveled with the Huntsman long enough to know he was telling you to be quiet while he listened, his ears far more discerning amidst the silent noise of the forest than yours.

Only it was not silent; in the distance, you could hear raised voices, yelling, and the distinct howls of several hounds.

Your eyes found Sanemi’s, and you were certain yours were as wide as his, as your heart began to thunder against your chest. 

There was a strange melodic chant rising above the cluster of voices some distance through the trees, and you both turned back and strained to listen.

As the jeering voices and barking of dogs drew nearer, it became clearer what was being said — what thing those voices were loudly whooping and mocking amidst the excited titter undercutting their bloodlust.

Your name.

Douma’s men had picked up your trail, and they’d caught up.

“Run.” Sanemi ordered, tearing the leather satchel from his shoulders and looping the strap around yours. “Do you remember which direction north is?” 

Eyes wide and limbs trembling, you nodded, your breath hitched in your throat as every instinct within you was overtaken by sheer terror. Sanemi placed his hands on your shoulders, squeezing firmly to get your attention back on him. 

“Run north,” he repeated. “Follow the river and do not stop. It is against the wind, so it should be harder to track your scent,” Sanemi’s eyes darted up over your shoulder, narrowing as the unseen force drew nearer. “I will catch up to you. Do not drop that satchel.” 

Your mouth opened and closed several times as you gaped at him, fear, so deep and primal, engrained in your every nerve as you realized he intended to send you deeper into the Netherwood. Alone. 

“I cannot — Sanemi,” you begged, your hand gripping his forearm in a desperate attempt to stay close to him, your protector. 

Gently, Sanemi removed your hand from him. “Y/N, I promise I will find you soon. I need to get them,” he jerkily nodded backwards to the voices and dog howls drawing closer and closer to you in the distance. “Off our trail. 

You shook your head, only trembling harder. To separate surely would mean one, if not both of you would die, and you could not bear to leave him to deal with the onslaught of Douma’s men alone. 

“I promise,” you’d not realized Sanemi’s hands had cupped your face until you felt the press of his forehead against yours. “I will find you. Now go.” He urged, and with a slight shove, Sanemi sent you stumbling in the direction you assumed was North. 

With a great deal of reluctance, your legs began to move as you hurried over fallen branches and twisted roots, every pump of your legs growing stronger as your fear intensified. 

You hadn’t known how many men were in pursuit of you, and you’d left Sanemi alone with only an axe to protect himself. 

You’d as good as doomed him. 

But you kept running in the direction you thought was north, eyes frantically trying to track the watery sunlight filtering through the trees. 

The moment you’d chances scanning for the sun meant you did not see the thick, twisting root that had broken across the forest floor, not until your foot became entangled and you were sent sprawling across the dirt. 

Moaning slightly, you scrambled up, refusing to acknowledge the faint bruising pain you felt in your ankle as you moved to keep running. 

A snap of a tree branch froze you in your tracks. As stupid as you were, you turned towards the source of the sound, dread coiling in your gut. A shadow emerged from behind one of the ancient trees of the Wood, clutching something shiny.

A sword; long, wicked and cruelly sharp, and yet somehow, the blade frightened you far less than its wielder, for his face was familiar.

You’d grown up alongside it, after all.

“Well, well,” the boy — man — cooed at you. “We’ve been looking for you for quite sometime, you know?”

You took a step back, eager to put whatever distance you could between yourself and the smirking village boy who looked at you like you were his next meal. 

“K-Kaigaku,” you stuttered in disbelief. “What are you doing? We were — we were friends.”

The boy’s laugh made your blood curdle. “Don’t mock me,” he shifted his sword to rest against his other shoulder as his free hand twirled a small dagger. “I only align myself with the strong, and you are nothing but a weak and pathetic little mouse.” 

“But Lord Douma,” Kaigaku mused, his grin offset by the malice alighting his eyes. “Lord Douma is strong; powerful. I am loyal to him, not you.” 

“Lord Douma?” You repeated, your voice as sharp as the blade glinting in the faint daylight as the boy before you tilted it back and forth. “Is that what he’s told you to call him? What, pray tell, is he lord of — being an egomaniacal, fatuous, greedy murderer?” 

Kaigaku’s smirk unfurled into an ugly sneer as he shifted to point his sword at you. “Watch your mouth, girl.” 

“And what of Kotoha?” You demanded, your anger an untamable fire that burned in your veins. “You were sweet on her once — did she deserve her fate?”

There was no sign of that fondness in the cruelty which lined Kaigaku’s face as he spat, “She spread her legs for some man like a whore and bore his bastard. Lord Douma only made sure she met an end befitting of her filth.” 

“You vile, wretched creature,” you swore. “Damn you! Damn him!” 

That hair-raising smirk reappeared as Kaigaku stepped towards you. “I cannot wait to see what Lord Douma has planned for you. You should’ve seen what he did to your beloved Granny, the hag.”

Your blood turned cold and a stone like lead settled in the pit of your stomach. You’d assumed, of course, that your grandmother had paid with her life in helping you escape, but you could not bear to hear the ways she’d suffered in exchange for your life. 

Somewhere, in the depths of the Netherwood, a wolf howled. 

“Shall I tell you all about it, Y/N?” Kaigaku taunted. “Shall I tell you how your dear Granny screamed as Lord Douma flayed her alive, piece by piece? How she sobbed for your grandfather? For you?” 

Tears burned, as hot as acid in your eyes as you shook. “Stop,”

“It was quite pathetic, really,” Kaigaku sighed. “She went rather quickly. I suppose that’s what happens when you play with old crones — their pathetic little hearts can’t withstand the fun.” 

You were at a loss; part of you wanted to lunge for the boy, to sink your nails into his eyes and rip, to tear him limb from limb as you screamed with rage until even the beasts of the Netherwood could not tell whether you were human or kin. 

But on the other hand, you were just a woman, who’d spent the last five days in the Netherwood and didn’t have so much as a dagger with which to defend yourself. 

And Sanemi told you to run.

You remembered as a boy, Kaigaku had been slow; always the last person to finish a race or outrun the seeker in hide and seek. 

You, on the other hand, had always been faster; you could outrun him.

You had to. You would.

There was a roaring in your head as your mind disconnected from your body and you turned to flee. 

“Don’t you run from me, bitch!” Kaigaku thundered after you, but you did not slow; you hurtled over root and rubble, adrenaline pumping hot and fast to your legs as you ran. 

You’d thought, for one blissful moment, that perhaps you had a chance of evading him, when a silent whirring cut through the silent forest air. 

Pain, blinding pain, exploded somewhere from the side of your thigh, bringing you to your knees as you cried out. Rolling over, your stomach dropped at the unmistakable sensation of blood dripping down your leg, hot and fast. 

Behind you, you heard the thud of Kaigaku’s knife cluttering to the forest floor. 

“Hn, I missed,” the boy scoffed, eyes roaming over you as you bled. “No matter, you can’t run on a wounded leg, can you little girl?” 

Ignoring the dizzying lash of pain that flared in your leg, you scrambled backwards in a crawl, desperate to put some — any — distance between you and your captor. 

“Lord Douma only said to bring you back alive,” Kaigaku hummed, drawing his sword once more. “He did not say to bring you back unscathed.” 

Kaigaku put the tip of his blade right at your chin, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. You glared defiantly up at him, though your show of courage was a mere facade as you beheld the salacious glint reflected in his beady eyes. 

“I think I shall take my time with you,” Kaigaku decided, using his blade to tilt your head back and forth. “After all there is no one here who shall care if you scream; in fact, I prefer you do.” 

Your eyes widened, what remaining fight you still had wavering. 

Alone. You were completely and utterly alone. 

Sanemi had not come; either he was still fighting the other men sent by your cursed fiancé, or he’d been slain, and now the others were making their way to you, to take you back to Douma and let him do as he pleased. 

You were going to die; but you would not die by his hands. Your eyes lowered to the blade still pressed under your chin, its tip grazing against the delicate skin of your throat, teasingly.

Kaigaku’s blade was sharp, even if it’s wielder not; it would not take much effort to slit your own throat on its edge, and it would take even less to bleed out upon the Netherwood’s earthen floor. 

Before you could move, however, Kaigaku’s sword lowered, its tip teasingly tracing along the front seams of your dress. 

“Perhaps we could make this interesting,” Kaigaku smirked, tracing up the valley between your breasts. “He said only to ensure you were untainted for him; he did not say we couldn’t have a taste.” 

Your stomach churned with a toxic mixture of both rage and dread as the sword cut through the first stitch of your bodice. You tried to gather your feet beneath you, enough so that you could launch yourself forward and impale yourself on his blade, when a low growl sounded from behind your assailant.

Kaigaku, too enthralled by his slow torture of you, did not see the mass of white fur and bloodstained teeth leap from the shadows of the Wood; not until it was too late. 

You looked on in horror as a large beast lunged for the boy from your village, tackling him to the side, his sword arm severed at his shoulder from a single swipe of the monster’s mighty claw. Kaigaku only had time to scream once before the nightmare’s massive maw clamped around his neck and tore, spraying his blood and bits of gore across the forest floor. 

Your breath caught and died in your throat, helpless from where you were still splayed pathetically across the dirt as you watched the animal paint the Netherwood with remnants of Kaigaku. 

The monster turned on its haunches towards you, its maw dripping with blood and bits of sinew and flesh, its lip curled back in a snarl. You whimpered as the creature’s silver-lilac eyes settled on you, every inch trembling in abject terror. 

Though overcome by your fear, your brain was able to put together the sight before you that was sure to be your last. The beast slowly advancing towards you was a wolf, though it was much larger than any wolf you’d ever seen, and its brawn rivaled that of an ox’s. 

The wolf boasted a thick coating of silvery-white fur that seemed to glow, as though it bore the essence of a full moon, though its brilliance was dampened somewhat by the smears of crimson saturating it. Under the dim light of the forest, you could not tell whether the blood was that of the wolf or another. 

One colossal paw stepped hesitantly toward you again, and you felt yourself nearly go faint. Weakly, you tried to scramble back further into the wood, but your left leg had gone slightly numb from its wound, and the blood loss was starting to make you feel dizzy. 

It seemed the Netherwood had answered your silent plea to not be sent back to be killed by Douma; instead, you would serve as the next meal for one of its monstrous residents. 

The wolf drew short of you and watched you closely for a moment. With a great shudder, the wolf began to tremble and shake, and your horror melted into wide-eyed disbelief as you watched the wolf shrink and contort until all that was left was a man, blood-stained, naked, and panting on his hands and knees, fingers dug deeply into the dirt below. The man convulsed as began heaving up bile stained with blood and gore.

The sight of scarred forearms and snowy-white hair broke you out into a cold sweat. 

“S-Sanemi?” You croaked, equal parts relieved and terrified, even if another part of you desperately hoped that you were simply hallucinating the image of the nude man wretching up blood before you.

“Aye,” Sanemi grit out between great, shuddering breaths as he spat one final time at the dirt. “It is me.”

He rose, bloodied and naked, from the forest floor and looked to you, his eyes back to their familiar, lavender hue, though they still retained an otherworldly glow. 

There was a loud ringing in your ears as you stared at him, though you weren’t sure if it was from your panic or your blood loss. Sanemi took a cautious step towards you and it sent you scurrying back, a whimper of fright building in your throat.

He faltered, something like pain crossing his face. “Perhaps you should be afraid,” he said quietly. “And you can be — but I need you to throw me that satchel.”

It took you a moment to recollect yourself long enough to register what he was asking. With shaky hands, you unlatched the leather bag from your shoulders and weakly tossed it towards the Huntsman. 

Sanemi was quiet as he dug through the bag, producing a fresh pair of breeches and a clean tunic. With a deftness that seemed as supernatural as his wolf form, Sanemi dressed, concealing his muscular, scarred form from sight once more. 

He said your name once, quietly. “Are you alright?” 

You trembled, hand clutching weakly at the front clasp of your cape. “He killed my grandmother,” you whispered. “H-he tortured her.”

Sanemi approached you slowly, and when you did not flinch away from him once more, he knelt down beside you. His hand came up to gently stroke your hair, and the touch startled you out of your trance, blinking back fat tears as you looked up at him. 

“We need to go,” he said gently and you closed your eyes, nodding.

You’d known, of course, that your Grandmother had been killed; made peace with it, even. But you had not foreseen that she would be tortured for trying to secure your freedom, and the very thought made something inside your heart wither and die. 

“I know,” you murmured quietly. Sanemi straightened, extending a hand to you to help you up when your fingers closed around his wrist, your eyes urgent.

“Did you kill them?” 

Sanemi grimaced. “Yes, Lamb. I killed them all.” 

You nodded. “Good.” You released his wrist and slid your hand into his. “Good.”

Your shock had dulled the sharp, burning throb in your leg while you’d processed the fact that Sanemi was not a mere huntsman, but a wolf of the Wood. But now that the shock had worn off, the pain slammed back into you with full force as you tried to stand, your leg collapsing uselessly under you as you cried out. 

Sanemi’s nostrils flared and there was a murderous glint in his eyes as he crouched down beside you, eyes locked onto your left side, fingers clenching around the torn folds of your dress and lifting it up. 

“S-Sanemi!” You squeaked, batting his hand away but no to avail. The huntsman — the wolf — managed to pull back the skirts of your dress to reveal the torn flesh of your thigh. 

“Was it him?” Sanemi’s voice was low, his head jerking back over his shoulder in the vague direction where he’d left Kaigaku in pieces. 

You nodded, eyes wide as you watched him inspect the wound. “A knife. He threw it.” 

The huntsman exhaled harshly through his nose. “We’re too vulnerable in the open like this — especially because you’re bleeding.” 

Sanemi sat back on his haunches and pulled his small hunting knife from the leather satchel strewn on the ground. Silently, he leaned forward and wound some of the bottom fabric of your dress around the blade and wrenched, tearing a sizeable scrap cloth from the skirt in one clean stroke. 

Sanemi then reached under your skirt and tugged the shorter end of your linen shift down. “It’s not ideal but it’s cleaner than your outer skirt,” he said by way of explanation at your raised eyebrows and hitched breath. “It’ll do until I can get you somewhere safer. We’re sitting ducks out here. Your scent is bound to attract something.” 

You nodded, gulping. Words were still far too difficult to come by, so you settled for watching your handsome guide as he worked, mouth set in a firm, hard line. 

Sanemi tore another strip of linen from your shift and laid it delicately over his knee. His eyes flicked to yours, once, and you felt slightly ashamed at the way your breath hitched, as though waiting for those lilac irises to bleed silver once more. 

“May I?” His hands were stilled above the exposed flesh of your shin, and you knew he’d need to lift more to bandage your thigh. You nodded after a moment, though your hesitation did not stem from any fear you held for the scarred man delicately sliding his hands up the length of your wounded leg; rather, the heat that crept up your neck came from the way goose flesh erupted over the skin beneath his roughened yet gentle touch. 

Sanemi’s fingers were steady as he gently guided your leg to the side, rotating it in his palm so that the gash was perpendicular to the forest floor. 

At the sight of your bloodied, torn flesh, Sanemi growled. “I should’ve made the little bastard suffer far more.” He said darkly, reaching into his satchel to pull a small skien of water to clean off the wound as much as possible. 

At the first splash of water against your ragged skin, you flinched, hissing through clenched teeth as the cold fluid chased away the spare bit of blood. For a moment, you could see that the cut left behind the blade was deeper than you’d thought, though not so much so that it required more than a good bandaging and perhaps some stitching.  

At least it had not been entirely flayed open. 

The hand Sanemi had braced on your knee to keep your leg steady rubbed soothingly at your skin as he repeated the motion once more, letting the water cleanse the wound once more. “Atta girl,” he praised softly. “It’s done. I just need to wrap it.” 

It amazed you that such a hardened, rough Huntsman — Wolf — had such a gentle touch. His hands were like feathers as he wound the clean strip of linen around your thigh, the only pressure stemming from the knot he’d fastened to keep it secure around your leg. Sanemi then wrapped the other torn fabric from your outer skirt around the makeshift bandage, knotting it in a similar fashion to the one beneath. 

“To keep the one below from becoming dirty,” he offered plainly at your raised eyebrow. “Can you stand?” 

Now that the adrenaline of yojr earlier encounter had worn off, the throb in your leg had become all the more pronounced. Teeth clenched, you gripped the Huntsman’s hands tightly as you rose from your seat on the tree stump, eyebrows furrowed in determination. Sanemi did not remove his hands from you, but kept them out and ready as you tentatively shifted your weight to test your wounded leg.

It was no good; the pain shot through you like an arrow and nearly buckled the knee on your good leg. With a cry of frustration, you  stumbled back against Sanemi, the Huntsman’s arm looping easily around your waist to help lower you back down against the stump upon which he’s sat you. 

“Damn it all,” you cursed, wincing at the angry throb in your leg. “It cannot bear weight.” 

Sanemi pursed his lips as he looked over you, considering. “Allow me,” he said after a moment, squatting down next to you, motioning for you to wrap your arm around his shoulders.

You hesitated; you were not scared of the Huntsman, even after witnessing his terrifying true form, but your apprehension lingered, a primal fear baked deep within your core that told you you should be scared of the predator beside you. That, mixed with your blood loss, made you pause, even though you’re traveled alongside the fearless Huntsman for nearly a week. 

And Sanemi noticed.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured, his arm locked steadily around your waist as he lifted you to your feet, your weight pressed against his chest.

You did not trust your words so you only nodded. Despite the remaining wariness you felt, you longed for his comfort more. You lifted your hand to cup the side of his jaw so you could tilt his face down, bringing his forehead against yours. 

Sanemi whispered your name and your eyes lifted up to meet the smoldering heat of his gaze. 

A knuckle brushed against the curve of your cheek. “Are you frightened of me now, little Lamb?” 

Your fingers gripped the collar of his tunic, a desperation wracking through you at the thought he might pull away and remove the steadying warmth of his arms from around your frame.  

“No. It is not you that frightens me; it is him.”

The arm around your waist tightened. “He will not get to you; I swear it. I will not allow him to lay a finger on you.” 

Your breath shuddered and your eyes squeezed tight. You felt the discomforting press of panic building in your lungs, threatening to choke the air from your throat until a warm finger curled under your chin, followed only by a rugged whisper of your name. 

You opened your eyes and there he was; the only person left alive who you could count on; who had proven, time and again, that your welfare mattered to him. Who treated you like you meant something.

You craved that feeling — craved him. 

“Kiss me, Sanemi.” You murmured, your lips separated by a breath. “Please.” 

Sanemi did not hesitate as he gently brought his lips against yours, the hand under your chin moving to cup the back of your head, holding you steady against him like he was the only real, solid thing in the world. 

Your hands, no longer shaking, unclenched from where they’d been locked around the collar of his tunic and slid behind his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. 

Sanemi sighed against your lips, allowing himself to get lost in the way they moved against his, just as you did. Against the solid rock of his body and under the spell of his soft mouth, it was easy to allow yourself to forget the danger that threatened to creep in from the shadows.  

Lost in your kiss, you made the mistake of trying to shift your weight from your good leg to the bad, causing both knees to buckle. At your small whimper of pain, Sanemi broke away.

“You’re too injured to walk,” He murmured against your lips. “So I shall carry you.” 

He broke away with a final peck, stepping back and reaching behind him to haul his tunic over his head. “Unless you would like to see all of me, little Lamb,” Sanemi’s smirk was devilish. “Then I suggest you close your eyes for a moment.”

The heat his words sparked in your veins dulled the throb of your wounded leg. “And if I desire to see you?” 

Sanemi only shrugged. “Then I suppose I shall have to put on a show.” 

The huntsman held your eyes as his hands went to the hastily tied laces of his breeches, tugging the strings open with ease. 

You fidgeted against the broken stump he’d perched you on, just as Sanemi shrugged down the soft suede of his breeches, revealing that damnable v-line that made your head spin. A few more inches lower, and there was his manhood, hanging thick and heavy between his muscular and scar-speckled thighs. 

He was a sight to behold. 

“Is this your first time seeing a man, Lamb?” Sanemi’s voice broke you out of the reverent trance you’d been in whilst admiring every rocky plane of his body. 

Your mouth had turned dryer than a summer drought, and so you only nodded your head, unable to tear your eyes from the immaculate form that made up the huntsman of the Netherwood. 

To your dismay, Sanemi stepped back from where you sat, again and again until he was several lengths back. You opened your mouth in protest, but he only shook his head. 

“Don’t want you to be too close, my sweet.” He called from a distance.

You frowned. “Too close for what —“

Your question was cut off by a small scream as Sanemi leapt forward, that silver fur exploding forth from him as a large wolf landed only feet from where he’d once stood. 

Now it was clear why he’d put such distance between you; had Sanemi been any closer when he shifted, one of those mighty claws embedded in his law — nearly as long as your hand — would have surely ripped you clean in half. 

Your heart hammered in your chest as Sanemi’s wolf form drew closer. Now, without the weight of terror and the pressing conviction that you were about to die, you allowed yourself to fully appreciate the wolf before you. 

His scars were still visible, though less so in contrast to his human form, his thick fur providing a fair degree of cover.  In this form, you could see that were you to stand, your head would barely reach his shoulder. 

Sanemi grunted as he crouched out, the puff of air from his considerable snout warming over your legs. He looked up at you expectantly, an amused twinkle in his wolffish eyes. 

You gaped at him. “You want me to ride you?” 

Another amused chuff. 

“And how, great and mighty wolf, do you suggest I climb onto your back with a half-severed leg?” You dramatized. “Shall I flop?” 

You couldn’t be sure, but it seemed that the Wolf rolled his eyes. Sanemi pressed his large body against your good side, nudging you with his great shoulder to signal for you to grab his fur.

You took a handful of the silvery coat, surprised at its softness. “Do not bite me just because you think I pull too hard,” you warned, half serious, and Sanemi huffed in annoyance. 

Using the wolf as leverage, you heaved yourself up, Sanemi pressing steadily into your side as you found your footing against him. Slowly, and with less grace than you were willing to admit, you managed to climb atop Sanemi’s back, awkwardly swinging your injured leg over the opposite side.

Once settled, Sanemi rose beneath you, rising to his full height. Sat atop him, you were willing to bet he was taller than most horses back in the village. 

The great wolf sniffed at the air once before lowering himself into a crouch, and springing forth into the Wood.

————

Riding atop Sanemi had been the most exhilarating experience of your life. 

Though, you also could not recall the last time such a ride had left you more frightened, given that you’d spent a great deal of it crouched low against his neck, fearing that if you rose your head even a fraction of an inch, some low-hanging tree would embed itself in your face. 

You supposed you would have kept riding longer, had your stomach not given a great gurgle after an hour or so atop the wolf. With a growl that you thought sounded suspiciously like a laugh, Sanemi paused in a small clearing near a rocky, moss-covered cliff, disappearing behind the lip of the rock once he’d situated you upon a felled log.

A few moments later, human Sanemi emerged, re-dressed, but his face was severe.

“They will keep coming,” Sanemi’s frustration was clear as he shrugged the fresh tunic over his head, the delectable ridges of his abdomen and the alluring dip of his hips concealed from your sight once more. “So long as they can track your scent, they will keep pursuing you.” 

You did not need to ask to whom he referred; the very same fear had gnawed at you even despite the exhilaration of riding Sanemi’s wolf form.

Your appreciation of the huntsman’s physique stalled as fear bubbled again in your gut. “What can I do?” Your whisper was shaky and it made Sanemi pause, his hand twitching towards you. “I cannot change my scent in the middle of the damn Wood—“

“You can,” Sanemi said quickly, and to your surprise, the tips of his ears turned pink. “Or— rather, I can help.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Because you are a wolf? Should I call you that now, instead of ‘Huntsman,’ or ‘Sanemi?’”

“You can call me whatever you desire, so long as you allow me to protect you.” Sanemi retorted evenly.

You tried to keep your voice steady even as you blushed. “And how would you do that, Wolf?” 

There was a dark glint in Sanemi’s eyes at your new nickname for him. “A bite from a wolf can change your scent.”

You balked at him. “A bite?” 

“Aye,” the Huntsman said casually, as though he was merely discussing the weather. “It would leave a small mark, but that mark would alter your scent enough to make you harder to track.”

You thought for a moment, the blush on your cheeks deepening. “Where would you bite me?” 

It was Sanemi’s turn to turn pink. “Likely your neck,” he fidgeted with a stick he used to poke the dying campfire. 

You gulped. “Would you have to transform?” 

Sanemi’s small smile was handsome, even if it looked a little feral. “No, Lamb. I can stay in this form.” 

You watched your protector for a moment, weighing your options. “Come here, Sanemi.”

His eyes snapped to yours, a bottomless heat turning his lilac gaze molten. Slowly, with the grace of a predator silently stalking its prey, Sanemi made his way over to where you sat, drawing short once the tips of his boots grazed yours. 

“Do you swear it? It will keep them from being able to track me?” You asked, voice trembling slightly as you peered up at the Huntsman. 

He nodded, slowly. A hand reached out to caress your cheek, and your breath lodged in your throat as you found yourself leaning into his warmth. 

You managed to exhale around the lump that had formed in your throat. “Then I will allow it.”

Your heart skipped like a rabbit’s against your sternum as Sanemi leaned in close, the warmth of his breath chasing away the chill of the Wood’s air.

“So delicate,” Sanemi murmured, his nose skimming along the slope between your neck and shoulder. “So soft.”

“W-wolf?” Your voice was high, your hands trembling as they jumped to clutch at Sanemi’s forearms, nails digging into his skin in anticipation. “Will it hurt?”

He huffed a laugh against your skin, the gentle tickle of his warm air sending goosebumps along your exposed skin. “No, little Lamb,” his lips danced along your shoulder, back towards the sensitive spot connecting with your neck. “You will feel a prick and then you will feel warm.” 

You nodded, the ends of Sanemi’s cornsilk hair tickling your throat. “I’m ready. Bite me — please.”

Sanemi’s groan was followed by a cold, sharp sting that sunk into the tender flesh between your shoulder and neck that was quickly chased away by a soothing warmth. The huntsman’s mouth latched to your neck as he buried his teeth in you, his tongue stroking soothingly around where he now bit.

It felt like someone had poured warmed honey into your veins. It spread, thick and sweet from your neck throughout your body, making you feel like you’d sunk into a hot bath on a cold day. That warmth coiled in your belly and ignited something fluttery and pleasurable between your legs as you tilted your head to the side, exposing more of your neck to the wolf caging you in against the tree.

Your submission evoked a low growl from his chest, deep and rumbling as Sanemi pressed harder into you, his hands bunching your dress at your sides as he continued to suck at your neck. The feeling of his body molded tightly against yours and the way his mouth worked at that delicate spot made you moan out, the sound finally jolting something within the huntsman as he gave you one final kick, before tearing himself away. 

“Dear gods, woman,” he heaved, breath coarse. “Are you trying to drive me wild?”

You flushed as you panted, staring at him with wide eyes. Whatever you’d been expecting, it hadn’t been that; you’d not foreseen that the act of Sanemi biting you could feel so intimate, could make you long for him to run his hands under your dress, to touch you in your most sacred places until you begged for him.

He was dangerous; it was thrilling.

“Kiss me again,” you breathed, and Sanemi obeyed, his mouth moving fervently against yours as his tongue caressed your lower lip. Sensing the silent request, you opened for him, and Sanemi’s tongue swept into your mouth, licking at yours as his teeth nipped along your lower lip. 

You thought he might devour you; you wanted to let him. 

But Sanemi suddenly pulled away from you as though he’d been burned, eyes wide and breath hard. 

You blinked in surprise. “Sanemi, what —,”

“We need to go,” he said firmly, his cheeks flushed red. At his sides, his hands curled tightly into fists.

—-

The rest of your journey was oddly strained. Despite having grown closer with enigmatic Huntsman over the last several days of your travels, you suddenly felt as though you’d been catapulted back to square one.

Though he still allowed you ride upon his back in wolf form, gone were the amused chuffs and snorts that he used to signal he was listening to your mindless chatter. Instead, the wolf below you remained tense, a cord pulled tight that was liable to snap at the drop of a hat.

As much as you wished it made you angry so that you could snipe at him, Sanemi’s sudden introversion stoked an uncomfortable self-consciousness within you, and you found yourself desperately grappling for an explanation.

Had you tasted badly, when he’d bit you? Did he suddenly no longer find himself drawn to you, now that your scent was different?

Or, even worse, had he realized that perhaps he did not want you to stay with him in the Wood after all, and was now attempting to put distance between you so that you would be more willing to leave him once you reached the edge of the forest?

The thought made your stomach clench painfully.

Sanemi’s distance did not abate even by the time he slowed to a stop for the night. He’d brought the two of you to a clearing in the Wood that bordered alongside a winding river, crested by a waterfall. Sanemi finally lowered himself to the pebbled ground of the riverbank, muscles twitching as though to hasten you along in sliding off him to balance yourself against a mid-sized boulder, before he stalked back towards the trees, his leather satchel in his mouth.

He avoided even your gaze as he stalked into the shallows of the river, spearing two fish with a sharpened stick he’d fashioned. Sanemi hadn’t so much as thrown a word your way as he’d started a small fire, apparently relying on dusk to conceal the small smoke billowing up.

Despite the coolness of the evening air, you noted Sanemi was sweating as he’d flung out the stick bearing your flame-cooked fish dinner towards you.

In accepting the spear, your fingers accidentally brushed against his and Sanemi recoiled — hard.

“What is wrong with you?” You snapped. “Why will you not touch me? Why do you flinch whenever I am near?”

“I do not,” Sanemi answered hotly through clenched teeth, though the muscle that ticked in his jaw betrayed his frustration. “Am I suddenly required to touch you?”

You folded your arms across your chest, eyes narrowed. “You certainly had no objection to it earlier — especially not when you threw me up against a tree.”

“Threw you —“ Sanemi choked off, his returning glare both indignant and enraged. “As I recall it was you who kissed me.”

“And as I recall, it was you who started doing that — that thing with your tongue,” you accused lamely, though any bite in your words was tempered by the blush creeping up your face.

Sanemi scoffed. “You cannot even speak of it without blushing like a little girl, and yet I am the one acting strange?” He leaned back on the piece of driftwood he’d claimed as his seat, arms folded across his chest, head turned pointedly away from you.

As you mulled over a number of insults to call the temperamental Huntsman sitting across front you, the last remnants of the sun faded from the night sky, and overhanging clouds briefly parted to reveal the moon — nearly full, its silvery glow illuminating the riverbank.

The moon’s rays reached where you and the Huntsman had set up camp when suddenly your hand jumped to your shoulder as you cried out.

Sanemi startled forward with a worried growl of your name. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

You grit your teeth, fingers digging harshly into your shoulder as you winced. “Something is — is burning, but I do not know what.”

You were certain the only injury your sustained had been the wound to your thigh by Kaigaku’s knife. But you’d spent enough time in and around flame to know what a burn felt like, and it felt as though something had been branded into you, its throb almost crippling.

You cried out again and Sanemi quickly crossed the dirt and took you into his arms, though you felt him flinch as he did so. “Where?”

You gestured wildly to your shoulder, too distracted by the way his presence made the burn now pulse, sending lashes of heat throughout your body, though there was a maddening edge of pleasure blooming from every part of you that was pressed against him.

Sanemi’s fingers grasped the collar of your dress and wrenched it to the side, swearing softly as he beheld whatever it was he saw.

“What is it?” You managed to grind out, your fingers digging into the muscles of his forearms to keep him anchored to you, as though he were capable of keeping the flames licking at your skin at bay. “Kaigaku did not touch me there — at least, I don’t think —,”

“It was not that boy who did this,” Sanemi said severely, his finger gingerly caressing the spot where your neck met your shoulder. You moaned as his touch extinguished some of the burning fire which had ignited your skin, too lost in the temporary relief to note the way Sanemi’s hands tightened around you. “It was I.”

That stilled you. “What do you mean?” You turned your head, peering up at the Wolf with wide eyes. “From when you changed my scent?”

Sanemi, for once, looked discomforted. “I think —,” he swallowed once, avoiding your gaze as he stepped back. You almost cried out at the loss of his body against yours, as the burn returned once more.

“I think I marked you; but I-“ Sanemi stuttered, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion as he stared at the ground, his weight shifting uneasily from foot to foot. “But it shouldn’t be affecting you — not like this.”

“You marked me?” Your hand fluttered to the fleshy juncture between your shoulder and neck. You gasped as your fingers brushed against a curious raise in your skin that hadn’t been there before, the strange curvature burning a few degrees warmer than the area around it.

The huntsman’s eyes remained resolutely fixed on the ground of the forest. “I told you I would cover your scent.”

You stroked the the mark, fingers tracing the odd curve, like that of a crescent moon. “What does the mark mean?”

Sanemi hesitated.

“Wolf?”

“It is a mating mark.” Sanemi admitted after a long moment, hand jumping to his hair as he ran his fingers anxiously through his silvery-white locks.

A stunned breath blew past your lips, your eyes wide. “M-mating mark?” You repeated, hand freezing where the telling crescent was emblazoned upon your skin.

Sanemi looked equal parts apologetic and scared. “I swear, I did not know it would affect you — wolves have to accept the mating mark to feel it, so I did not think —.” He ran a frazzled hand through his hair, his anguish apparent. “I thought I would be the only one to feel its call. I swear it.”

In the back of your mind, it registered that the mark perhaps was the reason for Sanemi’s sudden change towards you, but the incessant burning you felt would not allow you to question him on it.

“What does this mean?” You cried out again as the mark surged, the pain reaching all the way down between your legs, making you gasp. “Are we — are we m-mated?”

Sanemi’s eyes flashed. “No,” his voice was firm, urgent. “You still have to accept the mark for us to be mated — that’s why I thought it was safe. It was supposed to change your scent enough for us to avoid those men.”

“I swear to you I do not plan on acting on it; I meant only to help protect you. I fully intend on escorting you to the nearest village, as promised, and then I will leave. That mark does not have to mean anything to you.”

You believed him. The slight panic in his eyes as you winced at the mark’s repetitive flare once more could not be faked. Furthermore, you knew Sanemi would have no reason to bind you to him; not when you’d already made it clear that you wanted to stay.

You still did.

Sanemi’s earlier words echoed in your mind. That mark does not have to mean anything to you.

“But it will mean something to you, yes?” You demanded, drawing yourself up tall even as you sat perched upon the driftwood. “The mark?”

Sanemi hesitated again. “Wolves only mark once.”

He did not offer any further explanation, nor did he need to; you understood well enough.

The Huntsman had marked you, knowing full well he’d never be able to claim another as his mate. He’d done that, knowing that if another came along that won his heart, he could not be with them completely — not in the way his nature would desire.

And he’d done it nonetheless; all for the sake of giving her a chance to escape Douma’s clutches and to be free.

He’d put you first.

You hadn’t doubted the sincerity of your offer to him earlier, but now, there was no way he’d get rid of you. You would not allow it.

“And what would you do if I said I accepted it — accepted the mating bond?” You asked, voice as soft as a feather.

Sanemi snorted, pulling away from you to busy himself with stoking the small campfire. “I would say that you are an innocent, little lamb who does not understand what it means to be claimed by a wolf.”

“I understand well enough,” you replied, indignant. “I know what it means for people to give into their carnal desires.”

“You know nothing, you’ve never even seen a man before today.” The huntsman shot back, tossing another piece of kindling into the small fire. “You have never laid with another, much less a wolf.”

“It cannot be all that different,” you pouted. “You appear before me man enough.”

Sanemi closed the gap between your bodies then, coming to sit beside you on the rock, fingers curling under your chin to tilt your head up.

His eyes glinted with a sudden predatory heat. “It is quite different, little lamb.” He murmured. “I may now stand before you a man, but I am very much still a wolf. I would not take you like an ordinary human.”

There it was again — that heat, so foreign and yet so enticing, flickered to life once more in the depths of your belly, and the urge to rub your thighs together suddenly became overwhelming. With bated breath, you watched as Sanemi’s nostrils flared softly, his pupils dilating as the grip under your chin tightened ever so slightly.

“Then how would you take me, wolf?” You whispered, eyes not wavering from his. “How would I accept the mating bond?”

Sanemi’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, opening only after a shaky exhale of his breath. “You would have to take my knot.”

Your gaze dropped to his lips, the warmth from your mark spreading across your skin along with the sudden urge to feel them move against your own. “Your knot?”

“My knot,” Sanemi repeated, “and that is precisely why I cannot mate you, little lamb.”

You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth, a movement Sanemi’s eyes followed, his tongue flicking out to wet his own lips.

You pressed your chest flush against his front, hands seeking out his in the dark. “And what if I wanted it?”

Sabemi groaned, fingers latching onto your waist, though whether he sought to push you away or keep you anchored in place, you could not say. “Christ, woman. One would almost think you enjoyed torturing this poor wolf.”

You leaned into him, head tilting as you sought the knowledge of his soft lips against yours. “Not torturing,” you whispered, a hair’s breath separating your mouth from his. “Willingly offering myself to him.”

Your lips brushed against his and Sanemi moaned, his hands reaching to snare in your hair as he moved his mouth desperately against yours, teeth nipping and sucking on your lower lip, like he was hungry to consume you. But before he could, your pulled your head back, breaking the kiss.

“Do it, wolf,” you whispered. “Take me. Claim me as your mate.”

Sanemi grabbed you by your jaw, cheeks squishing beneath his firm grip. “Do you know what that would mean?” His voice was rough, his eyes burning with his desire. “If I did, we would be bonded. Permanently. For life.”

He said it as if you had not guessed it to be true; as if you weren’t prepared.

You gazed up at him through your eyelashes, eyes round and full of the innocence he claimed he could not taint. “Would you have it be another?”

Sanemi took the bait, a feral growl tearing from his chest as he crushed your body against his.

“No,” he snarled, and his mouth descended upon yours once more, his hot tongue sweeping into your mouth to swallow your breathy gasp as you threaded your fingers through his soft, moon-kissed hair.

You moaned into his mouth, hands greedily roaming the rocky planes of his chest, nails scratching lightly along his skin.

“You will be the death of me,” the Huntsman breathed against your lips. “You truly want to accept the bond?”

You moaned, nodding vigorously as Sanemi trailed his lips across your jaw and down your neck, his hands beginning to roam up your sides, tugging you down with him against the boulder so that you straddled his sides.

“Very well,” he murmured. “But I will not claim you here,” Sanemi said gruffly against the delicate skin of your throat, lips pressed against where your pulse fluttered. “I cannot.”

You whined and ground your hips down against his thighs, savoring the way the steely firmness of them pressed against something between your legs that made you feel electric.

“I must take you to my den,” the huntsman clarified, pulling back slightly in spite of your small whine. “When wolves like me claim a mate, we…do not like to be disturbed.”

Sanemi’s fingered the front laces of the stay secured around your bust, slowly undoing the careful lacing as he spoke, though his eyes did not leave yours. “And because it will be a full moon when I mate you, I will go into heat. It will last a very long time.”

“How long?” You fought to keep your head from falling back as you watched Sanemi work, the warmth of his hands seeping through the cotton and linen layers of your dress, making your breasts pebble with every loosened tie of your corset.

Sanemi hummed as he leaned forward, tracing his lips over the exposed skin just below your collarbone as his fingers worked the last of your stays. “At least a day; perhaps two. Other wolves have claimed it lasts shorter when one has a mate, as opposed to having to weather it alone.”

The top swells of your breasts were exposed as Sanemi finally freed you from your outer corset, allowing it to fall to the ground beside you.

The huntsman skimmed his nose over the top of your shift where the tops of your soft mounds peaked over, letting his tongue peek out to follow the trail. The feeling of the hot wetness of his mouth made you fidget in his lap, a whine building in your throat, desperate to have him touch more.

“A-and will you — ah,” you moaned as Sanemi tugged the bodice of your dress and shift down your shoulders, exposing your peaked breasts to the night air. “Will y-you mate m-me the whole t-time — oh god, Sanemi,”

“I could get used to you saying my name like that,” The huntsman chuckled, bending to take one of your breasts fully in his mouth, sucking and rolling his tongue over your stiffened nipple. The contact made the mark on your shoulder burn with a sensual heat that you felt shoot straight down between your legs, and you ground against his thigh, mewling for more.

Sanemi looked up at you as he swirled his tongue over the fleshy skin of your mound, his pupils blown wide. “Perhaps,” he muttered in response to your question, in between light sucks. “It depends on how well you take my knot, you sweet thing.”

You moaned again as Sanemi moved his mouth across the valley between your breasts, taking the other mound between his lips and teeth, his hand rising to keep the other warm. He suckled at you for a moment until you were a whimpering, trembling mess atop him, before he pulled off with a lewd pop!

“But no matter,” You shivered as Sanemi’s teeth grazed your ear. “I promise I will make you feel so good, little Lamb.”

“Why must we wait,” you asked impatiently. “I am ready to be your mate now — I promise I can take your knot right here.”

Sanemi snarled against your skin, but it was not in warning. Rather, your words seemed to stir something deep within him, as the bulge between his legs hardened even more, and the building friction between it and demanding ache in your core intensified.

Sanemi shifted your hips in his lap so the apex of your thighs was no longer pressed flush against his hardness.

“You, my flower, smell far too tempting for me to risk having you in such a vulnerable way in the middle of the damn Wood, without any cover.”

Sanemi, lips traipsed along your jaw as he hummed. “There are many creatures lurking in the shadows that would see my mating you as an opportunity to take a bite for themselves.”

You tugged on his hair, trying to get him to meet your eyes. “I thought my scent was alluring only to you?”

“You don’t just appeal to me, little Lamb,” Sanemi said pointedly. “You have a rare scent that attracts all sorts of creatures here in the Wood.”

“But it is different now?” You pondered, fidgeting in the Huntsman’s lap until the ridge of his thigh pressed against that spot between your legs that made you want to sing.

You hummed and used your grip in his hair as leverage to tilt his head to the side, your lips caressing down the side of Sanemi’s neck, savoring the faint, salty taste of him on your tongue as his fingers dug into your hips.

“Yes,” he said hoarsely. “Your scent has changed, thanks to your mark.”

You pulled away from your assault on his neck to pout at him, lower lip jutting out in a way that made Sanemi’s eyes darken. “So I do not smell as good anymore? To you, that is?”

With a low growl, Sanemi stood, hands gripping under your thighs as he lifted you before he laid you out against the river stone. “Quite the opposite, Lamb,” he quipped, voice low and heady. “To me, there is no finer perfume. Your scent calls to me; it nearly sends me into a frenzy.”

You found yourself incapable of coherent thought — much less speech — as Sanemi’s hands slid up your legs, bunching the skirts of your dress with every inch of skin he passed over until you felt the night air delicately brushing the heat between your legs.

Your legs spread and supported between his grip and the smooth of the rock, Sanemi leaned forward and kissed you, his tongue sliding past your lips to lick teasingly at the roof of your mouth before he broke away, imprinting his kiss down your exposed torso.

You watched him, enthralled by the way your body seemed to come alive under his touch. Even in the dark of the Wood, you could make out the lilac swirls of Sanemi’s eyes as he watched you, noting every gasp and sigh he pulled from you as his hands and mouth explored the planes of your body.

“What curious eyes you have, Wolf.” Your breath was short, choppy as Sanemi’s lips descended past your breasts, caressing the soft of your belly.

“The better to see your pretty face, my sweet,” Sanemi murmured, pressing a sweet kiss right below your belly button, the fire within your gut leaping like oil in a hot pan.

“W-what — oh,” you moaned as you felt his lips press against your hip, the broad expanse of his hands smoothing down over your thighs, pushing the last of your skirts up, and allowing the searing heat of his hands to meet your untouched skin. “What large hands you have.”

“The better to feel you — to caress every inch of you,” Sanemi’s voice was husky as his fingers trailed up the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, spreading them wider so he could kneel. One hand gripped the back of your knee and gently tugged your injured leg over his shoulder, so your foot rest against the middle of his back.

His hot breath danced teasingly along your inner thigh as Sanemi’s mouth drew closer an closer to where you ached for him, the night air cool as it licked at your tender, heated flesh.

The feel of his mouth drawing nearer to to the most intimate part of your body made you feel as though you’d been set alight. “Such soft lips you have, Wolf.”

Sanemi chuckled, the sound so dark and rich it sent a shiver up your spine. “The better to taste you with, little Lamb.”

Your breath hitched as you felt something warm and hot flatten against your folds and drag up, Sanemi groaning into you as he repeated the movement, again and again.

His tongue, you realized as a strangled cry fell from your lips, your head falling back against the creek stone. He was exploring you with his tongue.

“Sweet,” Sanemi groaned in between wet, sticky laps against your folds. “So fuckin’ sweet.”

Every nerve in your body felt as though it had been set alight, the mark between your shoulder and neck burning deliciously.

Sanemi’s tongue flattened against your core, his nose pressing sharply against the pearl between your legs as he rocked his face from side to side, smearing your juices all over his maw.

“O-oh gods,” you cried out, hips bucking against his ministrations.

Sanemi’s hot tongue circled your entrance once before dipping inside, his teeth grazing your most sensitive spot as he buried the wet appendage inside your core.

His name fell in a breathy scream from your lips as you bowed up off the creek rock, hands shooting to anchor themselves in his hair as Sanemi began moving his tongue in and out of your fluttering core, his nose bumping and pressing against that delicate pearl at the apex of your thighs as he moved.

“My gods,” Sanemi grunted into your folds. “You are heaven on earth.”

You bucked against him once more, though you could not tell whether you sought more of his tongue or whether your body was trying to squirm away, too overcome by the pleasurable sensations Sanemi bestowed upon you as he worked his mouth against you. It did not matter either way, however, for every time you twitched away from him, the Huntsman’s hot, silky mouth only followed you, your cunt this predator’s dinner.

And apparently, he enjoyed playing with his food.

The frequency of your moans increased as the sounds of Sanemi feasting between your legs grew louder and ever more lewd, his own sounds of pleasure muffled by the repeated wet smacks of his mouth against your dripping folds as he sucked you between his lips and teeth and continued fucking you with his tongue.

“S-Sanemi! Oh — oh gods,” you cried as something coiled tightly behind your navel, making your thighs clench around the Wolf’s head as he worked.

Sanemi only responded with another groan, his hand leaving the supple flesh of your inner thigh to stroke against your folds, making you buck all the more against the stone as his roughened fingers brushed delicately against the spot that made you see stars.

His tongue pulled out of you in favor of flicking the bead at the apex of your legs, his fingers moving to your entrance and deftly pushing in, the wetness leaking from your core ensuring that they slid in without much resistance.

You cried out then, utterly overwhelmed by the way Sanemi’s finger began to work inside you, curling and pumping and stroking along your innermost walls until your entire body vibrated below him.

The hand supporting your thigh over his shoulder tightened as Sanemi resumed his oral assault on that small nub above your entrance, sucking and licking at it until the only sound leaving your throat were feverish cries of his name, your hips involuntarily jerking against him. With each passing moment that Sanemi spent feasting between your legs, something began to mount behind your navel, like a coil being steadily wound tighter and tighter.

You thought it should concern you, this foreign feeling, but as that feeling intensified, so too did your desire to see what would happen when it — you — came undone.

You left one hand gripping harshly at the Wolf’s hair, in some pathetic attempt to keep his face locked against your core, and lifted the other to pinch and roll your breast. You jolted at the stimulation, feeling yourself grow even wetter despite the fervor with which Sanemi lapped and suckled at you.

This appeared to please him, as Sanemi’s free hand moved from your thought to grip at your hip, pressing you even closer to his face until you wondered whether he could breathe. If he could not, the Huntsman did not seem to mind; his groans and growls against your cunt only intensified.

Sanemi slid a second finger into you, and then a third, and the resulting stretch made you see stars, your toes curling in your boots.

That thing in your stomach seized even tighter and your entire body tensed, as though you were on a precipice merely awaiting a slight force to tip you over and sending you hurtling to the depths below.

Whatever was happening to you, the Wolf seemed to anticipate it; for the moment that tight coil within your belly unwound, Sanemi’s fingers pulled hurriedly out of your opening only to be replaced by his tongue, his teeth pressed against your pearl. He lapped up every drop of release that spilled forth, humming and growling as you rode his tongue through the waves of crippling pleasure coursing through you.

As you came down from your high with a breathy sigh of his name, Sanemi shuddered beneath you, a strangled groan lilting out from his mouth between lazy slurps at your cunt. Though your vision was hazy, you could see the faint whites of his eyes peeking through his lids as they rolled back into his head, his fingers tightening their grip on your thighs until it was painful, before releasing once more.

The mark on your neck burned but it was no longer in agony; instead, it felt warm, like a part of your body left too long in the summer sun. but the heat was not entirely unwelcome, especially as Sanemi untangled himself from you, allowing the chill of the late autumn wind to sweep in and lick at your exposed skin.

“That should hold us both over until tomorrow,” Sanemi said after a moment with a throaty chuckle. “Though I will be hard pressed to keep my hands off you, little Lamb.”

Sanemi’s hands eased your skirts back down over your legs. Once your nether region was covered, he helped you sit up, allowing you to cling to him for warmth as he refastened your stays and helped you lace your corset back up the front.

Gingerly, Sanemi brushed your hair back from the shoulder bearing his claim on you. You followed his line of sight, twisting slightly and saw what he did: the crescent-shaped mark, which had burned a violent lavender only minutes prior, had faded back to a pale silver, its ache apparently soothed for the time being.

Sanemi leaned forward and brushed his lips against your mark, his tongue flicking out to caress it as you felt that warmth flood your veins once more. With a moan, you tilted your head, exposing more of your neck again to him, begging him to repeat the action again and again, but Sanemi only drew back.

“Apologies, Lamb,” his eyes were dark once more, and his hands fidgeted at his sides. “Seeing that mark pulls at something within me.”

You allowed your hair to fall back over the crescent bite mark and in an instant, Sanemi’s eyes lightened and a sheepish grin spread across his face. “Wolves are territorial. Seeing your mark makes me want to claim you, even without regard to the danger surrounding us.”

You frowned for a moment. “Are you only drawn to me because you’ve marked me?”

Sanemi’s gaze softened. “I am drawn to you, you vexatious woman, because I find you brave, kind, and at times, even a little charming.”

His hand lifted to caress your cheek, tilting your head down to meet his for a gentle kiss. “The mark is only a physical manifestation of what I already feel towards you. It is simply a way to display our bond to the world.”

Sanemi’s face turned grave and the way he said your name was serious. “You do not have to accept the bond if you’ve changed your mind.”

You shook your head hurriedly. “I want the bond — I want you,” the sincerity of your words resonated with Sanemi, as he pulled your hand to his lips, pressing soft kisses against your fingers. “This is all new to me; I just wanted to know you were sure.”

Sanemi’s soft laugh made your heart thrum, and a blush spread across your cheeks. “I am certain, Lamb, that I would not want anyone else to cause me stress apart from you.”

With a quick peck against your lips, Sanemi rose, stretching his arms high above his head. The moonlight, coupled with the residual flames of the small campfire allowed you to rake your eyes over his lithe form, appreciating every scar and swell of muscle dotting his mouthwatering physique.

But your eyes snagged on a dark stain that had spread across the front of Sanemi’s breeches. “What —?”

Sanemi did not look embarrassed, but he did turn away from you nonetheless. “I told you, Lamb,” he said causually as he dug through the satchel, pulling out a spare pair of pants. “The mark affects me far more than it affects you; at least, for now.”

“That is because of me?” Your eyes trailed his form in wonder, and the sight of the stain made your thighs clench together though you knew not why. “Is that — is that your pleasure?”

Sanemi’s lopsided grin widened, a faint snicker on his lips as he regarded you once more, spread out atop his own traveling cloak. “Yes, Lamb. It is my pleasure.”

You looked up at him, head slightly cocked in question. “But I did nothing to you — not like you did to me.”

Sanemi removed his soiled breeches and re-dressed before returning to your side. “You did not need to; as I said, the mark affects me more than you right now. My body knows I have marked you as my mate, and it is eager to make you mine.”

You shivered at the possessiveness in the words and sat up as he leaned against the small boulder, reaching up over his shoulders to tug his tunic up over his head.

“So it was only the mark?” You asked slowly, eyes dropping down to where you knew his manhood lay under his clothing. “The mark brought you pleasure?”

Warm fingers gripped gently under your chin, forcing you to look back up and meet his piercing stare.

“No, sweetling,” Sanemi said, a low growl tinting his words. “It was not merely the mark. I took pleasure from giving you pleasure.” His thumb stroked the underside of your jaw. “A great deal of it, it seems.”

You shifted until you were on your knees before him, and even the dark of the night could not conceal the way Sanemi’s eyes darkened at the sight.

“Shall I give it back to you, my Wolf?” You whispered, leaning forward to graze your lips against the crotch of his breeches. “I should like to taste you as well.”

To your surprise, neither growl nor groan rumbled from the depths of Sanemi’s chest as you poked your tongue out between your lips and gently dragged it up the seam of his pants, just as he’d done to you. Instead, what fell from Sanemi’s lips was a low, breathy whine, the wolf’s head tipping back slightly as his eyes squeezed shut.

Below the barrier of his clothing, something between his legs began to stir. Curious, you brought your hand against it, palming him slightly through the material.

“Fuck,” Sanemi hissed, and the hand around your jaw tightened, forcing you to rise to your feet.

Sanemi cracked an eye open to glare at you, but he melted at your answering pout, his thumb running over the bottom lip you’d jutted out.

“I promise you, Lamb,” he said gruffly. “I will give you plenty of my pleasure once the full moon rises; so much so, you will not know what to do with it.”

Your curiosity disrupted your self-pity. “From your knot?”

“Aye,” Sanemi confirmed, his voice like gravel. “Speaking of which,” Sanemi then tapped your rear, eliciting a small yelp from you as you separated from him.

“If you’re truly committed to taking my knot, you will need your rest, you tempestuous woman,” Sanemi scolded, and before you could protest, he bent low, wrapping his formidable hands around the backs of your thighs and hoisted you up, forcing you to lock your legs around his waist with a small gasp.

Gently, Sanemi laid you out atop his traveling cloak, bracing himself on one steely arm next to your head as he lowered himself down, allowing one quick press of his lips against yours before he pulled away, stretching out on his side.

“We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow, and an even longer night.” There was a wicked gleam in his eyes that made you rub your thighs together, even as you scowled at him.

“I don’t suppose you will give me another taste of what to expect,” you sighed, resigned as Sanemi moved his head so that he could lazily dance his lips down the side of your neck.

“I’m afraid not,” his answering smirk was smug as you began to squirm beneath the hand idly fondling your breast. “But I shall make the wait worth your while.”

Your breath lodged in your throat as Sanemi leaned in close, his breath tickling your ear. “When we get to my den,” he promised, tone mischievous, yet you knew he meant every word that followed. “I am going to fucking devour you, little Lamb.”

Devour he will. Part II is fucking filthy. Stay tuned if you want to see her take his knot (again and again).

[dontbelasagnax]

Spoopy (... mostly Monsterfucker-y) Codywan Fic Recs 🌕🐺

This is not a conclusive compilation, just my round-up of faves! Happy Halloween, everyone!!!

[Rated E] Full Moon Blues and the Warmth of the Sun by @anaclastic-azurite

Lovely AU where Cody is a sun elf and Obi-Wan is his werewolf boyfriend who is going through a rut. There is also another work in the series that's rated M :3

[Rated E] Es gibt Wölfe im Wald by @brigittttoo

Super atmospheric magical two parter in which Cody lives in a cabin in the woods and Obi-Wan is a werewolf that lives there.

[Rated G] at the breakers' edge by @wrennette

Nice and atmospheric fic where Cody moves to a cottage by the sea and his neighbor is a wolfman/wulver. Forever lives rent free in my head.

[Rated E] Thicker than water by @galateagalvanized

Look. If you haven't read this already, you need to complete your life and read it ASAP. It's canonverse but Obi-Wan is a vampire. The push and pull between need, want, and denial is delicious. Also, it contains my favorite codywan art ever.

[Rated E] what dreams may come by @biscuityskies

Cody is ass over heels for his PhD advisor, Ben. A spicy encounter at a bar and they decide to hook up. Oh, and did I mention Ben is a vampire? 😏 This is one for my fellow sub Cody, bottom Cody AND monsterfucker Cody enthusiasts

[Rated T] make a choice by @inkformyblood

Cody wakes up a newly turned vampire. It's in the same 'vers as the next fic rec. Also, though this fic is rated teen... Obi-Wan and Cody definitely start fucking nasty as soon as it fades to black. It is so deeply homoerotic, as every vampire story inherently is.

[Rated E] drink you down by @cillyscribbles

They're vampires. They're grossly in love. They're fucking and sucking. Blood kink galore muwahahaha

[Rated E] Thirty-One Sons, Thirteen Moons by sual

Jango is cursed to keep having children delivered to his doorstep every year. Obi-Wan, a witch, believes he can solve his problem. It only includes um. Fornicating with one of his sons. Cody volunteers. So they move in together. They fall in love. Amazing vibes.

[Rated G] A Taste Of... by @skybreakprimeonao3

More fairytale than spoopy but Obi-Wan is a witch and Cody is a prince. There's a whole series but the first fic is my favorite.

[Rated E] A Hunter For Dinner by @snowywinterevenings

Obi-Wan is a sex demon, the Fetts are hunters. Obviously Obi-Wan and Cody hook up. Vaguely inspired by Supernatural.

[ezolenta]

So here's Obito.

Kakashi.

Read more info ⬇️

Obito is a half-elf who lived with his family for two decades, helping them. I imagine it as a small village with friendly people. Happy childhood with his parents . Average cottage life, a small sheep herd, garden and a bunch of pumpkins.

His parents ran away so they can be together. (I like half-Senju! Obito too much). Senju is a human clan and Uchiha are elves who hate each other. Boom. Drama.

One night, there was an attack on the village. It was Uchiha, a young elf, and Warlock. He killed Obito's parents (Itachi is a different story, and it's very raw, so bear with me). Obito manages to survive. He found refuge in the form of an old elf paladin who helped him. (Of course, it was Madara's setup)

He trained Obito. He became stronger and made an oath with God of Justice (Tyr if you wish, but I'm thinking do not mention any of the DnD canon names and Gods), so he became a Paladin of Devotion. He began to travel the world saving people and helping them.

But at one moment when he needed help the most, no one came to his aid. He began to contemplate the world and the gods. A moment in which an event occurs in direct opposition to Obito's oath and his God's domain. It's simple, but such a traumatic event can make one view the gods as selfish, callous, and inconsiderate of mortal affairs that do not affect themselves - which in turn leads to disillusionment with oath. As a result, he broke his oath because the gods did not like that he began to pry into their dark affairs. (Canonical hatred of the Shinobi system and rules dnd style and without Rin's sacrifice.)

I can imagine Obito becoming Oathbreaker because he wants to achieve justice but in his own, wrong way. He claims that God betrayed him. Obito is blinded by power and his hunger for it.

Obito returns to Madara and tells him about that. He is agitated by the disappearance of his power. Madara tells that he has to make a new pact to gain powers. Thus Obito was lured into making a pact with the goddess who now gives him power in exchange for his soul. Obito kills Madara. He's now an Oathbreaker Paladin and Warlock whose Patron is a moon Goddess herself. (I wanted it to be a Tharizdun, The Chained Mad God, but changed my opinion. Tho still sounds cool) So Obito was tricked into a pact.

Obito is traveling the world and destroying the Cults. He's 62 when he met Kakashi in the woods, running from an Owlbear. They fight together, but Obito gets hurt. They return to Kakashi's camp. A bit of talking and my writing.

"The gods betrayed me." Obito growled. "They betrayed us all. They claim to be benevolent, but all they care about is power, status, and their own selfish gains." Kakashi was surprised by the paladin's disdain for the gods. It wasn't often that he met someone who outright scorned the gods, especially a paladin. "I see," he said, continuing to tend to Obito's wounds. "You're quite the blasphemer."

So Kakashi is also trying to find a local cult. They decided to travel together. (There's a plot!)

Obito looked at Wizard with a steely gaze. "I no longer align myself with the gods, nor do I seek their favor. I have become an instrument of my own destiny, and I answer to no one but myself."

But Obito does not even suspect that Kakashi is looking for a cult not just to destroy it. But that's a story for another time.

Here's some stats and info for character sheet list in my head for nerds like me.

8 14 16 8 12 20 (STR, DEX, CON, INT, WIS, CHA) Level 14 8 Paladin 6 Warlock Oathbreaker (Aura of Hate, Control Undead, Dreadful Aspect) The Great Old One Pact (Mortal Remind) Pact of The Blade (Binded Weapon, CHA based)

[the-modern-typewriter]

And so they all lived happily ever after.[1]

Theodore could finally breathe.

The two of them had bought the quiet, peaceful cottage that they had always talked about[2] and filled it with things[3] because they were allowed to do more than simply need now.[4] They were allowed to want, and build a home because home no longer had to be wherever the resistance had camped up for the night. Honestly, Theo had thought he’d be dead before that ever happened. Being born the chosen one, nobody had ever expected him to survive fate long enough for the aftermath, least of all him. [5]

Didn’t that mean he had the earned the right to be happy, now?[6]

“Theo.” She sat opposite him at the kitchen table, and took his hand, and looked at him like the world still needed saving, like he hadn’t done enough. “This isn’t working,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

It came out of nowhere.[7]

***

“I don’t have nightmares,” he said.[8] “We won. I killed the Shadow King, if anyone should have nightmares-”

He forced his expression to ease. He shouldn’t resent Adina her nightmares, if she had them. He knew the battlefield they had met upon. In a world of blood and conquest and power that made him feel like he was going to sizzle from the inside out, she had been a cooling balm. She had made him a man, instead of something out of legend.

“I know you were there too,” he continued, because she was acting like he’d somehow forgotten that. “But it’s over.” Didn’t she see that it was over? “Whatever nightmares you have, we’ll get through it together, yeah? They’re only dreams.”

“Memories.”

His jaw clenched. “They can’t hurt you unless you let them.”[9]

Her mouth clicked shut and she swallowed hard. At some point, during the argument, they’d both surged to their feet. Her arms were crossed against her chest, defensive, like either of them should have any need for defences anymore. They were safe with each other. She knew that! Before she started this conversation, they had been fine. Hadn’t they been fine?

“If there was a button that could make me feel differently,” she managed. “I would hit it in a heartbeat. God. I’m not – I know this isn’t your fault. I’m not saying that. I know you’ve gone through enough. I know this isn’t fair, but I—”

“You just need time.”[10]

They had time now, didn’t they? Walking through the woods filled him with a calm he’d never known before. The green trees, dappled by sunlight, made it impossible to dwell on the cold feeling of bloodied stone against broken bones. Everything was light, and air, and the freedom to run.

There were no people to be responsible for, no important envoys to encroach upon the time they managed to snatch together, always wrenching them apart. It was him, and her, and they didn’t have to live in a stolen moment anymore. Wasn’t that enough?[11]

“How can you be so okay?” Adina’s voice crumpled on the question, so small, and it felt like a knife between his ribs because it sounded like an honest question too. “After everything…” Her eyes were big and desperate - he recoiled. He could finally breathe, and she would have him drown.

After everything, he was allowed to be okay. Was he supposed to live forever feeling guilty for everything he could have done better? Was he supposed to have died too?[12]

Maybe, yes, in her story he should have.

It was easier to love a legend than a man. It was easy to make promises to someone who wouldn’t live to hold you to them. For a second, he hated her, more than he’d ever hated the Shadow King. He didn’t want to be a thing of hate anymore. He didn’t want to fight anymore.

“Everything?” He repeated, oh so softly. His fists curled, nails digging into his palms hard enough to draw blood and he didn’t want to ever draw blood again either. He stopped.  He relearned how to breathe. “You do not get to hold ‘everything’ against me, Adina. I did everything you asked of me. That all of you asked of me. For you. For this.”

“Theo…”

“We love each other.” He turned away because he couldn’t look at her. “That’s all that matters. We’ll get through this. Happily ever after.”

She flinched in the corner of his vision.

“Please.” He closed his eyes. “You want to talk about everything? After everything, let me have this. Give me this. It is the only thing I ever asked of you.”[13]

She exhaled a shaky breath. The silence stretched. Then, she kissed him sweetly, gently, like everything was okay. She whispered the words against his lips:

“I’ll try.”

***

It was better again, after that. Their fight became another battle of the past to be buried with their dead and forgotten. 

In the mornings, they would paint the sunrise that they had once spent hours trying to picture, when the endless night of the Shadow King’s reign felt like it never might never break. The first time Theo had seen that the sky could truly be pink he thought maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t made it through after all. But he had.  In the afternoons, they would walk hand in hand through the woods and he would tell her about all of the new growth he was learning about. He liked the names. The colours. The hope.

It wasn’t perfect. Now that she’d pointed it out, he stirred sometimes in the night to find her awake still. When he caressed her face in the dark his hand would come away wet with silent tears.[14] On those nights, he would kiss her honeyed and slow because he didn’t have to kiss her like she was oxygen anymore, until she melted in his arms and smiled again. [15]

The weeks turned into months, which turned into years.

She stopped crying, with time. She healed.[16]

The shadows were gone.

And so, they all lived happily ever after.[17]

----

[1] Happily ever after! It was just another bloody thing to fail at, wasn’t it?

[2] He’d always talked about it. He was happy. The cottage was perched in the middle of the woods, far enough away from civilisation that she could pass days without seeing another person. Sometimes, it felt like they must have lost, because the world that she knew wasn’t there anymore.

[3] She shouldn’t resent him his clutter. He deserved clutter. She knew he deserved clutter, his houseful of little wooden figurines he carved, after everything. 

[4] She hated the clutter.

[5] It was a terrible thing to want happiness, but not know what to do with peace; she’d learned to love him fighting. But now, he loved gently, sword forgotten, armour laid to rest, and that was not the version of him that she’d fallen love with.

[6] She missed the man she’d fallen for.

[7] She couldn’t do this anymore.

[8] Because he was the only one who had truly suffered.

[9] Was it so simple? Had she got it wrong? Was she merely not trying hard enough to move on? His expression told her that, yes, she needed to try harder. They were supposed to be a team but, to his mind, when it came down to it…he’d been the one alone against the Shadow King, hadn’t he? So, if he could heal then why couldn’t she? She hadn’t been the one buckling under the weight of prophecy. She had no right.

[10] That was the other thing everyone always said, along with happily ever after. Time healed all wounds. She just needed time. But how much time was that? Too much, it seemed. There had been a woman she met in the aftermath of the battle at Sunburst fields. She had lost her lover. Adina couldn’t remember the woman’s name, only what she had confessed when no one else was there to hear her.

[11] The woman said, “I’m not allowed to mourn her. No one knew we were together, you see. She had a husband. But she loved me, and I… no one will ever know now, and I must mourn her like she wasn’t mine to mourn. Like I might mourn a stranger.’ The woman’s voice dropped barely audible. "And I think it might just kill me. How do you heal a hurt when you have to pretend it’s not there? Like it’s a papercut instead of a bullet wound?"

[12] He fought to protect her. To protect all of them. In his story, she was the victory he came home to. She was his happy ending. She was not supposed to be broken.

[13] He had fallen in love with her when she was selfish. A good, selfless girl did not love in a stolen moment, after all. Stolen moments had to be taken from someone. But he didn’t want selfish now. He didn’t want someone who had done battle, who had hurt, and been hurt. He didn’t want a woman with a shadow in her heart.

[14] And, so, he fell out of love with her in the way that a person forgets their wallet on the train – with that stabbing sense of panic, of leaving something vital behind, without yet being able to place what was gone.

[15] Instead, he fumbled and groped for the debris, the receipts, the bits of change and dust at the bottom of the bag of them that had meant something important once. He began to look at her like a stranger when she reminded him that she was sharp. That he had loved something sharp, once.

[16] He looked for clues for what was missing.

[17] He would never find her.

[lady-raidia]

Hi my fellow german ♡

If you're up to, I'd love to request a Gil-Galad x reader writing (: I'm so sad that there is still not much out there. Something fluffy like love at first sight or first kiss (or both haha)

Thank you so much in advance!♡

Hey there! 💗 I am so sorry that you had to wait such a long time for me to respond! :( I was suffering from a writers block and I couldn't write anything for months :'( But I am back and I am trying to catch up! I hope that you enjoy this One-Shot (or maybe two shot hehe) even though it ended up a little bit shorter than I wanted to. But I will try to write a part 2 for this one, so we can have more Gil-Galad content hehe. Again, I am so sorry that you had to wait for such a long time! And I am sorry if my english sounds weird in the story :o But please enjoy! 💗💗

FOREST HEART - GIL-GALAD IMAGINE

Pairing: Gil-Galad x Reader

Summary: You are an old friend of Galadriel and visit her in Lindon, where you wander off into the forest. You just wanted to enjoy the nature but you found a hidden treasure that will change your life.

Warnings: None, just some Gil, snobby language and bad english.

Request Here / Masterlist

Nestled amidst ancient trees and shimmering waters, you have lived a life full of peace and harmony. You had chosen this life, far from Lindon, to escape the gossip and side-eyes you would get when passing by other elves who knew you were not like them. Your father was an elf, but your mother was of the race of men. She was the most beautiful woman you have ever seen but the fragility of a mortal life took her away from you. After her passing, your father followed her into death, since his heart couldn't bear the grief and loss it had suffered.

You grew up in a small cottage close to Lindon, the place your mother and her mother were born and raised. It was your sanctuary, your haven, and as a child, you thought Valinor must have looked exactly like your home. Even after your parents passed away you stayed at that small cottage to care for the garden your mother cherished so much.

Even though you lived your life far from others, you still had close friends you have known since childhood. One of them was Galadriel and you would refer to her as your best friend. You held her dear in your heart and even though you hadn't seen each other for centuries, you regularly wrote letters to each other. You would usually write about how your garden is growing and that the birds are nesting again, while Galadriel would entertain you with the adventures she had been on. (If you can call it an adventure. She is trying to hunt down orcs to find Sauron and with each letter you get from her it becomes apparent that she is slowly losing her mind. You are worried for your friend because she seems too fixated on Sauron being still alive.)

A couple of days ago you received an invitation to Lindon to celebrate Galadriel and her troop for „freeing the world of all evil“. You were happy to hear that her efforts to hunt down every orc are finally being acknowledged! And you wouldn’t be her friend if you wouldn’t tend that celebrations! So with a mix of excitement, worries and nostalgia you went on the journey towards Lindon.

When you arrived, Galadriel greeted you with open arms and a radiant smile on her face! It must have been decades the last time you have seen each other. But before you could talk about old memories and laugh about the shenanigans you did when you were children, she introduced you to Elrond, the herald of the High King. He offered to guide you around since Galadriel had business to do and while he was giving you a small history lesson that wasn’t really anticipating, he also warned you to not get too deep into the forest. For someone who doesn’t know the woods very well it is easy to get lost in them. And the last thing Elrond wants is to lose you and having Galadriel yelling at him for not paying attention. You had to promise to not go on your own and to always stay in the city. And you really wanted to keep that promise. You really did.

The days before the celebration you tried to spend as much time with Galadriel as possible. But she still had some duties she had to attend to, so she would usually leave you alone in the evening. It is your third evening here in Lindon and you already wish to be back at your small cottage. Elves aren’t a noisy folk but still it seemed like their voices were yelling at you. All the people, the talking, the faint music in the distance - you weren’t used to it, so for that moment it was just too much for you. You needed a moment of silence and since you arrived in Lindon it seemed like the trees were talking to you. You remembered the promise you’ve made and said to yourself that you would only walk for a bit - not too far off, so you can easily find a way back. Also, you have the senses of an elf, so nothing could go wrong.

With a sense of childlike wonder, you ventured off the path that was before you and headed straight into the woods. The forest with its towering trees, vibrant flowers and singing birds, mesmerized you and you have totally forgotten the words of Elrond. With each step you take, you get further away from the city but closer to the calmness of your soul.

Lost in the magic of the moment, you failed to notice the sun slowly going down and being replaced by a soft darkness.

„Beautiful isn’t it?“ Suddenly, a voice broke through the silence of the trees, dragging you back to reality. Startled, you turned to find a men standing in front of you with a gentle smile on his face. His presence was both mysterious and comforting. You have seen his face before, many years ago, but you can’t remember who he was. Maybe a friend of your father?

„Indeed. While the soil here might look like any other forest, it is made of hope and wishes from those who have walked here before us." You spoke softly while maintaining your gaze on the man in front of you.

He came a few steps closer to you with a light smile on his face. „It has been a long time since someone recognized Lindon's beauty. Too many became used to its sight and stopped wondering what miracles it might hold.“ You listened carefully to his words and nodded „But it seems you are not from Lindon. Lost, perhaps?“

„Galadriel is a friend of mine, and I am not lost. My feet tend to carry me places where my heart wants to go but my thoughts are too afraid of.“ The man before opened his mouth to share his thoughts with you but was interrupted by the voice of Galadriel who came running towards you.

„Y/N you shouldn’t be here!“ She looked at you and then made eye contact with the dark-haired elf in front of you. „I apologize! Y/N is a visitor and a friend of mine, my king.“ You nearly tripped over a root when you heard your friend address that man as „my king“. The reason his face was so familiar is because he is the High King of the Noldor, Gil-Galad.

Galadriel drags you away from him before you have a chance to speak, scolding you for being so careless. You apologized to her several times and felt that by not addressing him by his title, you had offended the king. In fact, he felt no offense at all. The thought of your conversation still lingered in his mind as he watched you and Galadriel walk away. Whenever his shoulders are unable to bear the weight of the crown, he retreats into the forest to enjoy the silence. Usually, the elves of Lindon don’t go that far into the woods so he can be on his own. But today, you were carried deeper into the woods by your own feet without a care in the world. For a while, Gil-Galad watched you admire the flowers and trees while the last light of the setting sun was reflected in your eyes. He was in awe and for the first time in his long life, he didn’t have the courage to speak. But when darkness slowly reached out, he talked to you and he was immediately enchanted by your voice and words. He always thought that he had lost his heart in the woods but it seemed that you found it. Now it is up to you if you want to claim it for yourself.

To be continued 💗

@fenharel-enaste @starlady66 (I am back, I hope it is okay I tagged you guys again! :) )

[neyswxrld]

butterflies in your chest

Wrecker x gn!reader

summary: Finally, you and Wrecker are able to take a long planned hike, which ends with a sweet picnic and some confessions!

warnings/vibe: established relationship, kisses, first time saying "i love you"

words: ~1770

a/n: happy bad batch eve! i just found this little oneshot and thought i could share it to calm our (my) nerves! i hope you enjoy it.

p.s.: english isn't my mother tongue, sorry for mistakes! also, i feel like my brain was a little afk during all of this. sorry for that, too!

"Blanket?"

"Check."

"Sunscreen?"

"Cheeks. And on my head. And your face."

"The food?"

"Everything in here."

"Good. Ready to go?"

"Ready when you are," Wrecker grins and holds his hand out for you to take.

Smiling, you reach forward and place your hand in his, walk up to him and stand on the tips of your toes, to give him a small kiss on his, still slightly creamy cheek.

You feel how his grin widens under your lips and how his hand tightens around yours for a few seconds.

"Okay, let's go," you say, and together you walk out of the door.

The weather is sunny and warm, but the slight breeze allows you to cool off a bit, protecting you from overheating.

It was a perfect day for your date.

It was planned for quite some time already. While you both were dreaming of some piece and quiet time to relax, with some snacks to share and cuddling atop a blanket, waiting for the incoming nightfall, you never actually had the time or capacities to do a picnic in the woods.

But since you've finally settled down on Pabu and everything calmed down a bit, you are finally able to do just what you've dreamed about for so long.

Even though there isn't a big forest on the island, you both are fine with going down to the beach or looking for another spectacular but comfortable place to lay out your blanket.

The walk is like a hike with an open ending, and only to be finished when you find your perfect place, so Wrecker and you are walking hand in hand through the streets and into some looser, wilder terrain. 

Even though Pabu has a high population, and you'll always find a small cottage with one or two residents, the island still provides incredible nature.

A small lake follows your path, left and right are some spectacular bushes and plants with the prettiest colors. Above and beneath you are some cliffs that contribute to the mountainous terrain and provide a place to live for many animals.

"Has Tech told you about those birds?" you ask Wrecker as you see one of the white-grayish animals gliding above your heads and entering a small opening on the cliff's side.

Wrecker looks down at you, some sweat sticking to his forehead, before he turns his head at where you're pointing at.

"Uh, bet he did, but I can't remember," he smiles sheepishly and scratches his neck, looking at you with his brown eyes.

"Do you want me to freshen up your memories?" you ask him, knowing that he hates being so forgetful.

"Of course," he nods and looks at you, ready for your incoming ramble.

Grinning, you start to tell him about the animal and some specialties about its beak that is strong enough to dig holes into stone walls. Wrecker listens carefully and asks some questions here and there, encouraging you to share the knowledge you had from his brother, mixed with some of your own research.

You even take a break for a few minutes and watch one of the birds that decided to start digging an entry with purposeful hits.

"Can't promise I'll keep all of that in my head, but you're always welcome to freshen up my memories," he exclaims, looking down at you happily.

"Oh, I will, no worries," you answer and smile back up at him, before starting to follow your path again.

The two of you walk for some more time, and you tell him different things about the various animals you can see or hear, encouraged by his excited looks, before you think you've finally found your place. 

It was the edge of a cliff again, but there were different kinds of flowers and plants, making the floor a colored but beautiful mess. You can perfectly see the ocean from here, and you'll know the sunset is going to be amazing. The place is also secluded, a little bit higher up, so no one will come and disturb you, you're sure of that.

Wrecker puts down his bag and fishes out the blanket, shaking it a little bit before putting it onto the floor, careful to place it somewhere without many flowers, as not to destroy them.

Excited, you jump onto the fabric and pull him down with you, getting at your bags to pull out the different foods you took with you.

"I'm so hungry," he rumbles, and a second later you hear his tummy do the same.

Laughing, you place a plate in his hand and start to unwrap your stuff even faster, silently agreeing with him.

You sit close to him, comfortably kneeling next to him and almost touching his legs, which he holds in a cross-legged stance.

"The hike was tiring," you say, and Wrecker nods, holding a slice of jogan fruit up to your face.

Excited, you take a bite and reach for one of them yourself to do the same with him.

"Sweet like you," Wrecker grins, his smile so genuine and pure that you believe him without a second thought.

"But not as sweet as you," you answer, playfully.

Together, you sit and eat for a while, talking, smiling, laughing. Enjoying the view, the food and the company. The sun is shining down on the two of you, warming you up, and almost reflects the happiness you feel at the moment.

When it starts to wander closer and closer to the edge where the ocean kisses the sky, the evening lightning turns darker, golden, red.

The clouds and the sky play a game of red, blue and orange, leaving you two in awe. It isn't the first sunset you've witnessed here on Pabu, but it is by far one of the most mesmerizing ones. Especially since Wrecker is sitting next to you, adding to the beauty of the moment.

You share some sweet kisses and touches, holding each other tightly. You never wanted to go back home again, if you would be able to stay here with him.

Even as the sun swaps with the moon, the sky turns dark, and the stars start to shine bright, you keep on holding each other.

You look at him from the side, observing how his features are illuminated by the silver light. His scar, the crook of his nose, his lips that are pulled up into a small, relaxed smirk, like so often when he's with you.

You could stare at him for hours, not ever getting enough of him.

His big hands affectionately glide over your back, and he draws small patterns with the tip of his fingers. Your thumb, lying on his stomach, does the same.

Suddenly overwhelmed with a few feelings, you snuggle up a little bit more, pressing yourself closer to him.

Shortly, he turns his head over, to look at you, before tugging you right into to his side.

Your chest feels weird, but not in a bad way. It is warm, almost hot, and you feel like there are thousands of little bugs walking in your chest. It tingles, and you wonder again, how so often, if those are the butterflies everyone is talking about. But instead of having them in your belly, they are in your chest.

While you keep looking at him, you enjoy the easy silence that settled between you.  You're only able to hear the sounds of the sea, some birds in the distance, and his even, deep breaths.

The atmosphere is relaxed, balanced. Just right. Like always, when you're with him.

And at this moment, where you lay next to each other, and you're getting lost in his presence, you decide that now is the time.

None of you said it before, being quite too shy or not ready yet.

But at this moment, you know you're ready. You want him to know how you feel. Even if he's not able to say it yet.

You want him to know.

You take all of your courage together, take a deep breath and say his name.

"Wrecker," you whisper into his ear, feeling how your heartbeat quickens and how your fingers start to tingle.

"Yeah?" he asks and turns his head slightly so he can look at you.

The moon illustrates his facial features, make them shine and glow in the right ankles, and underlines his beauty once more. His brown eyes shine with so much kindness and love. They're almost sparkling, and for a second, you lose yourself in them.

Your chest tightens a bit, but still not in a bad way. It feels like your heart skips a beat, and you suddenly feel warm all over your face. You're nervous, but at the same time, you realize again, just how happy you are and how much you want these three words to come out of your mouth.

You take a deep breath, try to calm your nerves a little bit and finally say those words for the first time.

"I love you," you smile and give him a light kiss on the cheek, just beneath his eye.

You know he won't react badly to your words, but you still can't look into his eyes for a second. So you decide for another kiss.

You feel how a grin spreads on his lips. Not able to control them, you feel how yours turn upwards, too.

Your hands are almost shaking because of all the tingling, but you feel how some of the tension you didn't know you were holding leaves your body.

You feel good.

"Hey, Cyare," he whispers, as soon as you separate and are able to look into his eyes again. His arms tighten around your body, and you're pressed closer to him once more. Not that you're complaining.

"What?" you ask back, paralleling his words from just a few seconds ago.

"I love you," he now fully grins, repeating your words, and presses his rough but gentle lips against your temple.

He pulls you close on top of his chest and turns onto his back at the same time, so you're laying on top of him now, able to see his face.

Grinning, he comes closer and repeats his kisses again and again, spreading them all over your face.

Giggling, you gently lay your hand on his jaw, feeling the light stubble beneath your fingertips and moving your thumb over it in a rhythmic movement.

You feel light, happy. Your smile is almost as big as your face.

"I love you," you whisper again, barely able to hear it yourself.

"I love you," Wrecker mimics.

Your lips touch.

You feel warm and comfortable. Loved.

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST

@isthereanechoinhere96 @trixie2023 @freesia-writes

[sitp-recs]

Heyy, do you have any drarry fic recs wherein Harry is living his quiet life in a cottage? Thank youu :D

Hi anon, yes absolutely! I love this trope, you’ll find most of my recs on this recluse!Harry list and this cottagecore list. I’m adding a few more fics below, all of them with Harry as the cottage owner. Envoy!

Glowing by @cavendishbutterfly (T, 10k)

Harry's lived alone and vampiric in his cottage for ages, until a long-lived Draco Malfoy suddenly shows up to answer an advertisement Harry had practically forgotten he'd put in the Prophet. Cue soft blood drinking, quiet nights of reading and crocheting, and Harry thinking that maybe--just maybe--he might not be so alone anymore.

Twelve Moons by @corvuscrowned (T, 27k)

Harry Potter lives a quiet life, running an inn with his two best friends. Once a month, Draco Malfoy comes to stay. A real-time fic that takes place over the course of a year; updates every full moon.

Simulation Theory by @starquestingfordrarry (E, 35k)

An offer to test out a new invention for Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes turns into a whole lot more when Harry discovers who has the other part of the paired set.

All Roads by korlaena, Saulaie (M, 36k)

Draco hates his job at the Prophet. He hates it even more when he’s assigned to write an article on Harry Potter, who left the country three years ago after their falling out. Draco doesn’t want to face the truth about himself, but he’s stuck between Harry and his duty, and he’s out of options.

Starlight in the Void by @dodgerkedavra (E, 40k)

An overgrown cottage in an unassuming seaside village is the perfect place for Harry Potter’s fresh start. Harry gets two weeks of peace before he hears rumors of a mysterious hermit wizard who lives in a stone tower in the woods.

Through the May Air, Over the Ocean by tsauergrass (T, 45k)

Draco Malfoy never expected to find himself in Scotland or being stuck in a cottage with Potter—but wonders never cease. A story about warmth, a story about falling back in love. A story about a flock of sheep in the distant fells of Scotland.

The Bolthole by aideomai, Tepre (E, 54k)

Harry is a hoarder, Draco is grief-stricken, and both are capable human adults who can definitely spend a month in a cottage in the Cotswolds together without ever talking about the time they slept together in eighth year. Yeah, no, totally.

When It Alteration Finds by momatu (E, 55k)

After the war, Harry left most of the Wizarding world behind and built a new life for himself in the Channel Islands. He opened a bakery and is happy with his life. Draco is a fiction author who writes under a penname, and he's currently suffering from writer's block. His agent suggests he try writing in a new environment and rents a cottage in the Channel Islands for him.

A Sword Laid Aside by @korlaena (E, 128k)

When Draco’s cover is blown during a deep undercover operation and the Ministry is compromised, Ron takes Draco to the only safe place he can think of—Potter. Hiding out with a taciturn Harry Potter, who has been missing from the Wizarding World for almost two decades after a shocking fall from grace, is nothing like Draco thought it would be.

Bonus: a dark!Harry fic 😈

Now I Wake Up In The Night and Watch You Breathe by @hoko-onchi-writes (E, 24k)

Or: Harry has been pining for years. It's time he finally makes his dreams come true.

[danikamariewrites]

sooo for that feyfey request.

everyone is living back in that cottage. fey is fucking that guy. but theres this woman, who is like a neighbour. she always sees fey and has a crush on her, but isaac (i think thats what his name is?) is keeping fey busy

one day, reader gathers the courage to flirt with fey

then slowly, the become friends and some time later, when fey is eating dinner with reader, reader crawls up onto the desk sensually and is being all hot and sexy

fey realises for the first time she likes this woman. its soo taboo but fey wants this

so she lets reader show her all the good stuff 😏

and then in the end its a lil fluff but they both know this wont progress further most probably 😔

(absolute filth plis im so thirsty for mommy feyre 😩😩😩(i also dont mind if its porn without plot i just need som filth 🥲))

When She Loved Me

Feyre x reader

A/n: This was the best Feyre ask I think I’ve ever received and I had to write it. I also added an epilogue-esqu ending and it’s kinda sad so I’m sorry for that but I couldn’t resist.

Warnings: oral, fingering, tribbing, angst at the end (also not fully proof read)

You rushed around the house making sure everything was perfect for when Feyre arrives. Dinner was in the oven, the living room was fully of cozy blankets, and you had turned the lights down to achieve the perfect ambiance.

The two of you met in town months ago. At first you had just waved and passed each other while you were running errands and she was trading pelts from animals she hunted. One wintery afternoon you got up the courage to finally introduce yourself.

The blue of her eyes had taken your breath away. When her rough exterior melted away and she gave you a genuine smile you couldn’t help but get lost in dreams of a future with her. Where that smile was never dulled by her hunting or family.

Tonight was the first time Feyre was coming over to hang out. You had only ever hung around in town together but you wanted one on one time away from prying, judgmental eyes. The nature of your relationship had been a little more than friendly. Sure you flirted, not thinking anything of it. Feyre had told you about her and Isaac. How he was just someone to relieve stress and blow off steam with.

The relief you felt when Feyre had said that was like a weight lifting off your chest. Since she had said that you had turned your flirtatious advances up hoping she would reciprocate. When Feyre did you were rendered speechless. The giggle that sounded from her was angelic.

A light knock on the front door had you squealing with excitement. Rushing through the house you skid to a stop, careful not to fling yourself into the door. Opening the door you’ve never seen Feyre look so happy. “Hi,” you breathed. “Hi.” Her voice light and happy. Stepping to the side you wave her in.

She looks around curiously. Her eyes wide as she shrugged her jacket off. “Your home is lovely.” You take her jacket to hang up. Gosh, how did this thing keep her warm out in the woods? The fabric was barely held together by the leather straps Elain had sewed in for her.

“Thank you. My mother has quite the eye for interior design. You should see her and my father’s room.” You joke. Feyre gives you a sad smile. As if she was remembering her old house. Guilt had your face heating. Feyre grabbed your hand giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Dinner smells wonderful.” She says, that happiness back in her voice.

You perked up at the mention of the meal in the oven. “You’re going to love it. Come,” you pull her along to the kitchen. As you ate the conversation went to weird childhood stories and Feyre’s hunting adventures. After dinner you switched to the living room, curling up in the blankets on the couch and enjoying the brownies you baked.

As the night went on your stares lingered on each other. Eyes wandering what could be seen of the others form. With each tick of the clock the two of you inched closer and closer until your thighs were touching. At the first touch you jumped a little. Only relaxing when Feyre holds your hand again.

When the clock struck midnight Feyre was lying on your chest. You absentmindedly twirled her sandy locks between your fingers. You fall into a comfortable silence just enjoying each other’s comfort. Not thinking before moving, you lean forward pressing a kiss to the top of Feyre’s head.

Shock took over as she popped her head up, eyes wide. “I-I’m sorry. I don’t know-’’ Feyre surged forward, connecting her lips to yours, effectively stopping your rambling. Your fingers go back to those sandy locks, keeping Feyre’s lips attached to yours.

The kiss was all want, need and a fight for dominance that you were determined to win. You wrap an arm around her waist, pulling Feyre up, flipping her to lay on the couch. Feyre’s breath hitches, her fingers digging into your scalp. You detach your lips from her, nudging your nose against her perfect button one.

Holding yourself back was becoming impossible. You need Feyre like you need to breathe. Every part of her is perfect and you were desperate to explore her.

You were both breathing heavily. Feyre lifts her head to peck your lips before dropping back against the couch cushion. “Do you want to keep going?” You asked, hopeful her answer would be a resounding fuck yes.

Feyre nodded vigorously. Her blue eyes glazing over with lust, “I want you, y/n.” Your lips break out into a wide smile. Climbing off of the couch you grab her delicate hand, pulling her to follow you to your bedroom. Slamming your door you turn to find Feyre laid out on your bed, only in her underthings, smirking at you seductively. In a swift motion you slip your dress off, leaving it in a puddle on the floor as you bound toward Feyre.

She lets out a giggle, the sound so sweet it almost stops you completely. It has your cheeks flushing as you straddle her hips. Feyre rests her hands on your hips, gently running them up and down your sides, reveling in the smoothness of your skin. Something flashed in her eyes, making her look anywhere but you.

“Hey,” you say softly, bringing your hand to rest on her cheek. “What’s wrong, Fey?” She squeezes your hips gently before looking into your eyes. “I just…I’ve never been with a girl before and I like you, I just don’t want to, ya know,” she rambles. You tilt your head in curiosity. “Fey it’s ok. We’ll take it slow, you just relax. I got you.” You smirk at her, leaning down to place soft, open mouthed kisses down her neck.

Moving down her body you undo the band around her breasts, stopping at the top of her underwear. You look at her through your lashes, finding her face flush, eyes half closed and lips parted. You rub her clothed cunt, making her wet spot grow with each circular motion. Feyre lets out a soft moan as you kiss up her thighs. “Please y/n, I need more, need your mouth.” She begs, throwing her head back against the pillows.

Sitting up on your knees you remove the band from your own breasts, reaching to pull Feyre’s panties agonizingly slow down her legs. Wasting no time you dive into Feyre’s dripping core, lapping at her arousal. Feyre moans out your name, gripping the sheets, her hips squirming against your face.

Capturing her clit in your mouth you let out a hum. Your eyes roll back at the taste of her plus those sweet, sweet sounds falling from her lips. “More,” she begs, “please more. Your fingers p-please.” Feyre struggles to get out. Bringing your finger to her hole you slowly work her open. “Tell me, was Issac this good with his mouth?” You ask with a teasing smirk against her pussy. She shakes her head, “N-no. Fuck no, you’re so much better y/n.”

You go back to sucking her clit, slipping another finger into her pussy. You know you hit that sweet spot (one that Issac clearly never hit) by the way she clenched around your fingers as you curled them. Feyre’s screams became louder and louder with each motion. “Come on Fey, let go.” You urge her. Arching her back Feyre falls apart on your fingers, one of her thighs trembling. Removing your fingers you lap up her release, the sweet taste of her intoxicating.

Sitting up on your knees you run your hands in a soothing motion up and down her thighs. Feyre went limp against the sheets, her chest heaving as she collected herself. Spreading her legs Feyre lets out a small laugh, “Good. I wasn’t done yet.” You laugh at her breathlessness. Throwing one leg over her hips you rest your pussy against hers, lightly rocking back and forth.

Feyre throws her head back again, leaving her neck exposed to you. You picked up the pace of your hips, leaning down to suck and nip at her the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Feyre brings her hands up to your breasts. Running her thumbs over your peaked nipples you moan against her skin at the contact.

Neither of you lasted long. Feyre’s hands felt too good, too skilled. Sharing a pillow she played with your hair as your eyes fluttered at the feeling and softness. You could get used to this. The softness of Feyre, taking care of her, having her in your arms every night. But that was a dangerous way of thinking. Maybe if everything worked out with her sisters marrying, then maybe she could be yours.

———

After that night with Feyre there were only a few more until you stopped seeing her. You had been holding back your feelings, hoping to bring it up while holding her to your chest. It had been a while since you’d been past her family’s cottage, or into town for that matter. Feyre would usually knock on your door asking you to accompany her but hadn’t in weeks.

Donning your cloak and winter boots you head out. Passing through town you heard whispers of the Archeron family name. “His boats were found.” “No, I think a beast did that. No winter winds have ever been that strong,” “I wonder when the middle one will throw a party.” “The aunt is sick I believe.”

All of these pieces yet nothing whole. The gossip made your heart pound. Picking up the pace you start running to the Archeron cottage.

Finally stopping in front of it you feel your heart stop. Your eyes wide taking in the darkness inside and the broken front door. Stepping closer you saw claw marks in the rotting wood. You stopped breathing. What the hell happened here?

“Are you looking for the Archeron’s?” You jump at the voice behind you. You turn to face the stranger, hand over your now rapidly beating heart. Clearing your throat you answer, “Yes, do you know where they are?” “Yeah, new fancy manor-lookin’ place on the other side of town.” You nod in thanks rushing off, knowing exactly where to go.

Politely knocking on the massive front door you step back and wait, twisting your gloved fingers nervously. Elain answered with a bright smile. Her eyes lit up with recognition at seeing your face. “Y/n! What a lovely surprise.” She said cheerily. “Hi, Elain. Is Feyre around?” You ask peeking over her shoulder. Elain’s face fell a little. “Oh, no, I’m so sorry. She’s visiting our aunt. She’s very ill right now so Feyre is helping around her house for a bit. I can’t believe she didn’t tell you.” She says with an air of curiosity, tilting her head a little to the left much like Feyre did when you rambled.

Tears stung your eyes at the familiar movement. You quickly blink them away, not wanting Elain to feel pity for you. “Oh, well I’m sorry about your aunt, I hope she gets better soon. Would you mind umm…when Feyre gets back will you tell her I want to see her?” “Of course!” You nod in thanks and turn to leave. Left with an empty feeling in your heart you let your tears flow freely once you’re back on the street. Why wouldn’t she tell you?

[writingdevil]

The Lonely Cottage in the Woods

(Hi!This is my first time writing a fic in a certain fandom,and it's also my first unique post on my blog,despite being on this site for ages.This fic is inspired by a piece of boatem art by @wasyago )

*

Somewhere,deeps within the forests of the land of Hermitcraft,a small cottage stood.Tall,quiet and proud.

The cottage served as a shop for travelers,people either needing supplies for their journey,or advice on where to go next.The cottage never had a shortage of visitors in Hermitcraft,what with all the creative and determined minds that dwelled the land.

But the cottage also served as an Inn,and was proudly stated on the sign that was nailed to the front of the house for all to see-'Scar's Spectacular Shop and Inn!'

The problem though,was that nobody ever wanted to stay the night at the cottage.They would always buy the supplies and take the information that they needed,and then leave.Leaving the owner of the cottage with a heavy heart and an even heavier silence.

The man who resided in the cottage was a cheery,happy man,who lived in an incredibly silent house.He was always willing to help people on their journeys,whether it be to help them clean their wounds,or point them in the right direction.But they never stayed.They just got what they wanted and left the lonely man,in the cottage that was beginning to feel too big for him.

The man's name was Scar Goodtimes,and he's lived in his travelers shop for years now.But as the years passed,Scar wished more and more,that some people would linger at the cottage,for just a day or two.Even though Scar was quick to get over it, some sad thoughts would worm its way to the forefront of his mind.

Like how the table looked too big with just one plate of food.

Like how the house looked too clean for his liking,no clutter to be found.

Like how there was a lack of life in the house.

Bur Scar understood.Really,he did.A lot of people wouldn't be quick to trust a lone man in a forest and stay the night.Stranger danger and all that.But then he'd hear other things when people thought he couldn't hear their whispers.

Yes,true to his name,fading scars littered across his body,not an inch to be spared.There was even a large and obvious scar that slashed across the middle of his face,which he knew people ogled at,but he didn't mind.

What he did mind,were the rumours about how he got the scars.A lot of things he overhead was that he used to be a bloodthirsty arsonist,or a shady criminal who used to run an empire,and they just got more outlandish from there.

Truthfully though,Scar just got into a lot of accidents.

(Though,sometimes,he'll hear those rumors and look down at his arms,and a quiet voice in his head will wish they weren't so visible)

But it's fine.He doesn't mind being in a cottage most of his life.He's got Jellie,his precious cat,and he knows that one day,he'll get used to seeing people not sticking around,and his heart won't twist in pain so much.

*

Knock knock!

The first peculiar man that he meets in a while,was named Impulse.He was large,buff,and had two horns protruding out of his head,with a long tail swishing back and forth behind him,and a sheepish grin on his face.

"Hi!Are you the innkeeper here?"

"Why yes I am!My name is Scar Goodtimes,what can I do for you,good sir?"The man rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he said "Well,I was wandering around, looking for new clients in the area for builds,but I didn't notice the time,and then i saw the sign that this place was an inn,and I'd really like to avoid the mobs,if that's okay."The implied question hung in the air between them,and Scar had to physically stop himself from trying to jump out of his wheelchair.

Someone was asking to stay at his makeshift Inn!Also,the man seemed no casual about it,not a hint of suspicion or distrust in hid voice whatsoever.This completely normal offer meant so much more than Impulse would ever know.So,with an excited grin,Scar happily said "Make yourself at home!"

Which Impulse certainly did.He was respectful of his house and of Jellie,most importantly.He got settled in,and during dinner,they talked about Impulse's plans and what his goals were after today.

Impulse was quite a hard-working demon,always looking for the next farm or building to create,for others to use.He has recently just finished working on a massive factory,that had been given to a town to use itself.He was just wandering around now,waiting for the next client to build for.

Scar was very impressed with Impulse's driven nature,but when he asked a certain question,the relaxed smile fell off his face and confusion replaced it instead.

Scar had simply asked "Have you ever built something for yourself?"

That question-hit different to Impulse.His tail flicked back and forth in agitation the longer he couldn't answer,but the silence pretty much answered for him.No.He's never build anything purely for his own benefit.

Scar was quick to brighten the mood and patted his shoulder comfortingly as he said "Hey,it's okay if you haven't.Besides,you have all the time in the world to build whatever your heart desires.Just make sure I can see it when it's done."He said that last part jokingly,not expecting it to have such a weight on Impulse's heart.

Impulse didn't leave the next day.Instead,he walked up to him that morning,fiddling with his tail nervously,the complete opposite of the cheerful man he was yesterday and asked "Is it okay if I stay here for a few more days?I...might have to make a change of plans for myself."

He didn't elaborate,but he didn't need to as Scar immediately blurted out "Yes!Of course!"feeling joy return to his heart.So just like that,the cottage in the forest wasn't lonely anymore.

Impulse was a very nice addition to Scar's life.He would talk with Scar all day long and play with Jellie,and help around the house without complaints.He sometimes even brought a fresh perspective on some of Scar's own projects,making some redstone suggestions.Hewould check up on Scar if he was feeling down (a first for him) and make sure that he was happy and laughing all day.It was such a welcome change,and it may still just be two people in a big cottage,but Scar was just happy to hear another voice through the walls from time to time.

Scar didn't comprehend the hole that Impulse had started to fill in his heart,until he saw blueprints and papers scattered about on the table one day,and at the top of the paper,was titled-Personal Build! Then he knew that he had done something right.

*

"Um,Scar?There's someone sleeping on the front porch."

The second odd person that Scar met,didn't even come to the cottage on purpose.

Scar rushed to the door and yanked it open,only to find a young woman,sure enough,sleeping outside the cottage,her back against the doorframe.Her head kept dropping forehead as she slept,a curtain of brown hair blocking her face.

She didn't look injured in any way,but that didn't mean she wasn't in danger.Scar bit his lip,unsure of how to go about this,but then he heard Impulse walk up behind him and softly called out "Hey,ma'am?Ma'am,are you okay?"

Thankfully,that was enough to wake her as she groaned,rubbing her eyes lazily,sitting up properly,and Scar had to force himself to be patient before launching into questions.

The woman got her bearings together pretty quickly though,yawning as she looked them both in the eye.But when she did,Scar's mouth dropped slightly in awe.Both her eyes had a background of a dark void,almost like a night sky,and within them,a twinkling star in the center of her right eye,and a crescent moon in her left.

"Good morning,gentlemen."were the first things she said,her voice holding nothing but chipper positivity,as if this was a normal occurrence."It's actually almost midnight."Impulse nervously corrected,probably not equipped for a situation like this,but Scar definitely was,used to being friendly with all types of people,and this lady was no different.

"Well,nonetheless,hello to you too.My name is Scar and this is my friend Impulse."The woman smiled brightly,sticking her hand out "It's nice to meet you both too.You can call me Pearl."Scar gladly shook her hand,and was surprised to find her hands just as calloused as his own."I hope you don't mind me asking but are you-okay?You're not hurt are you?Or in any sort of danger?"

Pearl shook her head,the bell on her sleeping hat jingling loudly in the night.She crossed her legs,still sitting on the porch,and replied "Oh,no,I am perfectly fine and safe,you don't have to worry about me."but then Impulse asked in worry and confusion "But then why were you sleeping on the porch?"

At his question,Pearl's shoulders slumped and her smile shrunk,but still appeared happy as she explained "Well,I was simply living my life,far across the land from here,building farms and being self-sufficient,but then a few days ago,I kinda started to feel-bored.There was nothing new to do and I didn't really have friends to talk to,and in those moments, I tend to just look up at the night sky."then she did exactly that,and Scar copied her, watching as the stars glistened in the sky.

There was now a fondness in Pearl's voice as she continued "I always had a bad habit of letting the moon and the stars drift me away,but this time,I felt like I was being pulled towards something,so I let myself be taken away by the night,and I guess I ended up here."Pearl then shrugged,done with her story and seemingly content with her current position.

It was certainly a story,but Scar felt like she was telling the truth,if her constant beaming smile at the moon was anything to go by.He turned to look behind him,and saw Impulse giving her a small smile back,with a glint of something familiar in his eyes.One shared look between them and they were on the same page.

"Well then Pearl,this cottage also acts as an Inn,so wouldn't you rather gaze at the night sky from inside a warm house,with nice food and fluffy blankets to accompany you?"Pearl glanced down at her lap as she muttered "That does sound nice."There was a minute of silence as Pearl contemplated the offer,and Scar was beginning to worry that she'd say no,but what was she going to do then?Keep walking aimlessly while staring at the moon,with no sense of direction whatsoever?Scar wasn't so sure why he was getting so stressed over a stranger.A part of him said that it was because he was still lonely,but that was ridiculous,he had Impulse now,so his loneliness should be fixed,right?

Maybe he was still lonely,or maybe it was something deeper,something that came from his core,like how Pearl said that the moon was guiding her towards something.Either way,Scar really hoped she would stay.

Pearl hadn't answered yet,and she now had a look of frustration on as she seemed to be arguing with herself,until Impulse spoke up and said "Pearl,we can assure you that there won't be a dull moment while you're in this cottage."

Then she was sold.

Pearl added a new layer of comfort in Scar's life that he didn't know he needed.She added her own spark of life and colour within the house,and she fit right in with the two of them.

She volunteered to help improve the inside of the cottage,making it appear more lively and appealing, making its previous arrangement look bland in comparison,and Scar didn't even realise how dim it looked.

Pearl still gazed at the moon every night,walking outside and simply staring up at the sky. Sometimes,Impulse and Scar joined her. Sometimes,Scar worried that Pearl would feel another tug and would drift away from them.

But she always came back into the house,even weeks after her arrival,and if Scar noticed that,over time,she spent less time looking at the stars and more time with them,well,that was for him to cherish.

*

The next bizarre event happened a few weeks after Pearl's arrival.

Throughout the day,there was a weird scratching and stomping sound coming from the roof.Impulse said that he would check it out,after he was finished helping Pearl with the redstone machine for their potato crops.

Knock knock!

"I've got it!"Scar called out to his friends in the backyard as he quickly opened the door,expecting another customer.

What he saw instead,was a very tall man,easily over six feet.He wore a clean black suit,which was unusual for travelers.But what was more unusual was the crimson red parasol he held,shielding his pale face and fancy mustache from the sun.He seemed very anxious,twisting the parasol handle, and then Scar noticed that his fingers were covered in a red powder.

When he answered the door,the man took a quick glance at him and then immediately averted his eyes.Scar had the urge to rub the marks on his arms,thinking that they were grossing the stranger out,but then the man stuttered out "U-Um,hello sir."

"Hello to you too.What can I help you with?Do you need supplies for your travels?"The man shook his head and said "Actually,I needed to ask you a question."Scar tilted his head in confusion,but let the man continue.

The stranger tightened his hold on his parasol, trying to gather up some courage,so Scar shot him a soft smile and the man looked stunned at his patience,and that seemed to make him relax enough to speak.

"Have you-um-been hearing weird noises today?" Scar nodded,becoming more curious as to who this man was.Was he an exterminator or something kind of hunter?Surely not,with the attire he had on,nor did he act like he even wanted to be having this interaction.

At his nod,the man sighed harshly,and Scar caught a flash of fangs in his mouth.A vampire,huh?Well that would certainly explain the parasol in broad daylight.

The man began to stammer,his attention much too focused on trying to peer inside his house rather than making a coherent sentence.His eyes were flickering to every corner that wasn't Scar,and when Scar opened his mouth to finally get to the bottom of this,there was suddenly a voice in his left ear yelling "BOO!"

Scar shouted in fright,jumping in his wheelchair as a new voice cackled in his ear.The other man standing before him lost all his nerves as he scolded the new figure "I knew you'd be around here,Grian!Why did you fly off without me?"

Scar panted in shock,a hand on his chest,and looked to the left,finding a man hanging upside down from the porch roof,a wide and cheeky grin on his face.He then dropped,then swooped back up into the air,bright red wings shimmering in the sun. He flew around in the air for a few seconds,circling his friend's head as he replied "Because,Mumbo Jumbo,you slept in and I was bored of waiting for you to wake up."

"I slept in because I was up all night fixing the redstone machine that you broke!"

"Well you shouldn't have left those levers and buttons all over the place!You know I'm weak to them!"

As the tall man,now known as Mumbo Jumbo, sighed tiredly,the new avian friend lowered himself and used his friend's arm as a perch, glancing at Scar curiously.

Oh,these two were trouble,and Scar liked trouble.

The guy that spooked him,Grian,was studying him closely,and Scar was beginning to feel like some sort of prey.He had messy,sandy blonde hair and brown,beady eyes that seemed to stare into his soul.He wore a thick,red jumper,almost matching the colour of his wings,and when Scar looked into his eyes,all he saw was mischief and chaos.

"Listen,I'm really sorry about giving you a fright there.I was just sitting on your roof,messing with Mumbo,and then I heard you talking and just wanted to mess with you a little bit."Grian explained,and Scar obviously forgave him,not that he was angry in the first place.He knew that he was just in the middle of two friends playful banter.

Scar waved him off "No need to apologise,just made my poor heart skip several beats and made my life flash before my eyes."the three men chuckled lightly,then fell into a comfortable silence, which was weird considering that they've only talked for a few minutes.

But then Impulse's voice called out from the back of the house "Hey Scar!Can you lend a hand with this redstone machine?"

"Redstone?"Grian said,eyes drawn to the voices of Pearl and Impulse deep in the house.He suddenly flapped his wings,almost hitting Mumbo's parasol in the process,who grumbled in annoyance and leaned away as Grian floated in the air.

"Mumbo's great at redstone,let him try!"then just straight up flew into the house without a second glance at Mumbo.Scar chuckled as he heard Grian's cheerful voice mixed in with Pearl and Impulse's surprised ones,but Mumbo's harsh sigh brought concern out.

He seemed more relaxed now,from knowing where his friend was,but still seemed stressed as he said "I'm really sorry about him,mate.He kinda just does what he wants,and trouble tends to follow him, along with me I guess.I completely understand if you want us to leave you alone.After all-"Mumbo let a bitter,low laugh out and Scar saw that his eyes were filled with muted anger and pain as he muttered "-not many people take too kindly to our antics."

Scar had already made up his mind the second Grian startled him,but now his heart was set and longed to see what these antics were.So Scar smiled and made way for Mumbo to come in and said "Make yourself at home."

Boy,did they make themselves at home.

Mumbo and Grian were like the last pieces of the puzzle that needed to fit into Scar's empty heart. Mumbo's creative spin on redstone helped the cottage out tremendously,and even when it sometimes didn't work,nobody scolded him,which Mumbo always expected.Mumbo was just as much of a trickster as Grian,poking fun at one another whenever possible,but tended to keep quieter about his hijinks,but slowly,he got louder.

Grian was a hurricane of trouble himself,and Scar,Impulse and Pearl ended up contributing to that chaos more often than not.The avian always had a prank up his sleeve,and everyone always ended up laughing by the end of it.

Grian also loved building things,with beautiful and detailed designs,but he never got around to finishing the back of,for some reason.

He would swoop and glide around in the sky,with grace and with expert precision,as he performed so many different tricks and turns in the air,as if he had been confined to the ground his whole life. Sometimes,Grian would simply perch somewhere and watch as the sun went down,wings relaxed but looking unkempt from a day of flying.

When Scar offered to help preen his feathers and tidy them up (He's seen Mumbo do it countless times) he was surprised when a flash of fear shot through the avian's eyes for a split second,and Scar understood how big of a deal it was when Grian still held his wing out for him without a word.

Impulse.A sweet workaholic.

Pearl.A cheerful night lover.

Mumbo.An anxious genius.

Grian.A pesky prankster.

This was what Scar was missing.A family.

So when one day,months later,if Grian casually brought up needing to get a bigger house to fit all five of them,well,nobody needed to see Scar cry tears of joy,at the fact that his friends were now his home,and not the once lonely cottage that stood in the middle of the woods.

[kikithedreamerwriter]

Bayverse!Leo x Fem!Y/N

Drabble #1 : Home

You live in a small cottage in the woods with Leonardo, and his family lives close by. You have two toddlers with him, both boys. You also just gave birth to a beautiful baby girl some weeks ago. It’s night time and you and Leo kiss your boys’ little faces goodnight as both of you tuck them into their little beds. You and your husband go to bed with your newborn snuggled between you. The lights are dimmed, the blankets have been drawn, the pillows are fluffed, and your baby girl suckles your breast hungrily in your arms as Leo stares at you with a loving gaze.

You chuckle at his expression, and say “What?”

He takes your hand into his and kisses it softly. He lays you on his plastron.

“Thank you.”

“Whatever for?” You ask again. His eyes met yours.

“When I was younger, I never let myself imagine that I could have a life like this,” he sighed as he stroked your daughter’s cheek. “I never thought that someone would love me enough to marry me and carry my children. I never let myself dream of becoming a husband or father… and yet here I am… with the most beautiful person in the world… making a home with her.”

“Oh Leo,” you whispered before pulling him into a sweet kiss. That is until your daughter whined and you broke apart giggling. Your baby then regarded her father curiously and extended her tiny hand in his direction as if she was asking for him.

You gently placed her into his arms. She smiled up at him, a toothless and happy grin. A tear traced down Leo’s cheek as small fingers wrapped around his own.

let me know if you want to be tagged in future works!

🗣️: @sharpwindow @pheradream-15 @m1dnyt3-w0lf @akesdraws-blog @fyreball66

please like and reblog if you enjoyed this! yes you! 💖👀

[writingsofwesteros]

Since requests open!!

Daemon x commoner reader!

He met during one of the City Watch raids and the two slowly fall in love. He visits her every night and they live more or less as a married pair! and the two have maybe 3 kids together in that time and Daemon tries to keep the whole family secret so Otto or anyone cant hurt them. Just all smut between secret husband and wife and cute kiddies!!!

AN: Hi, I hope you like it. I really enjoyed this AU , very cute ! x

NSFW

The larger cottage of your station was beautifully decorated with the wild flowers and the woods gave a safe haven. If anyone was to know..no, you could not think about such things, you scolded yourself as the sound of chattering came over you. “I suppose we should see what is happening.” You hummed; lovingly looking down to the sweet, chubby baby girl in your arms. Her bright locks shining in the sun.

She only giggled up at you; your words meaning nothing and you couldn’t stop the soft smile coming over your face. “I do hope your father has returned.” You whispered more to yourself as you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. Those chubby hands of hers reached for your locks and began to tug.

“Mama…” The two calls of your sons were heard before you saw them as you gracefully stepped into the large, meadow like clearing. The soft peach red dress moved behind you with your steps. The small dragons were resting in the shade quite cutely, you thought to yourself. “I thought I told you not to run off.” Gently, you scolded them.

“But mama…he’s here. Papa’s here.” The excitement in your oldest son’s tone had your heart warming as you ran your fingers through his locks. “Oh, is he?” You hummed and pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head before you heard the near whistling sound of the large beast of your near husband. “It seems he is.” Your baby girl began to clap as if she knew what was going on.

You couldn’t help but giggle down at her. Your heart was pounding in your ears as you watched the rogue Prince himself dismount from his dragon. “No..be careful…” You gently reached for the boys but they were already bounding towards their father. Caraxes was as ever a purring, large kitten when your children came closer and this time was no different.

“Good girl.” You sweetly whispered to your darling babe whose happy sounds echoed around. “I hope you have caused no trouble for your mother.” Daemon’s deep, familiar voice echoed as he reached to bring both of them onto his hips. “We’ve been good.” They both answered at the same time and you couldn’t stop the smile coming over your face.

Daemon only hums as he looks over their heads; his smile only growing at the sight of his girls. “You have been looking after them?” He whispered and his sons only noddled; snuggling into his chest some more. “Good boys.” He whispered before gently placing them back on the ground but keeping a hold of their hands. 

“My love..” Daemon hummed as he gently cupped your face. “I have missed you.” You whispered out as he leaned closer, brushing your noses together before lovingly capturing your sweet, soft lips. “I have missed you too.” The Prince whispered before resting his head on yours for a moment before your little girl reached for his locks and tugged for attention.

“I see you take after your mother.” Daemon hummed and a flash of a blush came over your cheeks as he happily brought the babe into his arms. “I have made your favourite.” You whispered; leaning into his side as you held your youngest son's hand and Daemon had your other son. Caraxes looked over you all from a distance.

Daemon couldn’t help but completely soften in that moment. He had everything he wanted. A part of him hated the secrecy and hiding; he wanted to show off his family to the world so proudly. It was all for their safety, he thought to himself and that was all he truly wanted. He could not go on if anything was to happen to them all.

Gently, he placed a soft kiss onto your head as you linked arms with him. It was nice to have him home and you hoped he could stay for longer than usual. The hate of waking up to an empty bed always seemingly broke your heart. It was becoming harder to be separated but you knew it was for the best. For your children. 

~

“Always so good to me.” Daemon whispered as his muscled, bare arm wrapped around you. Your own soft, bare body brushed against him as the soft bouncing continued. Those ample, sweet breasts of yours pushing against his chest as you fought to keep those whimpers of pleasure from echoing around the room. 

“I love you.” You softly whimpered; noses brushing together as you reached for his shoulders. “You are my world.” Daemon hummed before leaning in. He passionately captured your soft lips as the sound of your bodies slapping against each other only echoed some more. Your toes were curling as his fat, mushroom head bullied your soft, spongy spot with ease.

Daemon looked down and watched as a ring of cream formed around his throbbing, thick cock. Your soaked, sensitive pussy clamping down as you shook. Your stomach was tightening in pleasure as you whimpered out his name again and again like a prayer. “So good.” Daemon continued to whisper his praises.

Your fingers moved into his locks now as you grabbed onto him. You were becoming sloppy with your bouncing as he only darkly chuckled into your ear. His hold on you only tightened as he began to pick up speed with his own thrusts. “Ah–ah- i…” Your mewls of pleasure continued as you shook against him. Your lips parting so sweetly.

Daemon moved two of his thicker fingers into your hot mouth as you whimpered and gagged around them. He pushed against your tongue as your drool began to cover them. Your eyes were rolling back as the pleasure only became more intense. Your heart was pounding in your ears as you whimpered around his fingers.

His hot mouth soon moved down your neck as his free hand reached for those bouncing breasts of yours. He began to palm them; growing harder inside you if that was even possible as the milk began to drip. “I want another..” Daemon purred; his hand moving towards your stomach now and began to push. “You will give me another, will you not?” He hummed.

You could hardly respond as his words washed over you. “My good girl.” His words whispered into your ear as you whimpered out. You collapsed against his chest as he squeezed your breasts still whilst his pounding only continued and became harder. He pushed deep and you were shaking against him within moments.

You whimpered and hid into his neck as you sweetly mouthed at him. “Da…Daemon…” You began to cry out; tears of pleasure moving down your cheeks as your climax ripped through you. His thrusts only continued as you squirted around his fat cock. “That’s it..milking me…taking everything I give.” Daemon’s words had you crying out; blushing madly.

His hand moved into your locks now and kept a hold as he grunted out his own pleasure. His fat cock was twitching inside you now as you milked him for all he was worth. His thrusts were becoming sloppy now as he moaned; pushing deep once more and staying there. His lips were soon on your own as his cum flooded you.

You were whimpering; breathless as you settled against his chest. “I do not want you to go.” You couldn’t stop the words from falling from your lips as he gently began to stroke your back. “Shh, my love..” Daemon whispered but there was nothing he could give you. It was still not safe but he was looking for a solution. 

“I love you.” Daemon wrapped his arms around you now and kept you impossibly closer as the storm began to move around them, lulling them both to sleep.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Uhh could you write dad headcanons for gavriel?

Baby lion

We all know this man is a textbook example of a FATHER. period. I don't know why but I always kind of imagine him not only being Aedion's father. There's just something in me that is screaming that there's one more child out there of his, that he takes care of and is trying to be there as much as he can.

With you, I think the babe would be both a mix of surprise but also something that is almost self-explanatory. Like yeah duh, you thought I wasn't gonna give this man a baby. Cause go to war with me for it, but kids are something Gavriel would bring up on a first proper date. Like there is no sugar coating. He knows his responsibilities. Knows that babies happen even if they are rare. He isn't taking a tonic and honestly, you are free to not take one in his book but this man ain't pulling out. Here you go. I said it.

I doubt it would happen quickly. I think it would happen once everything settles. Once everyone is safe and sound. No threats. No need to be on high alert. You two already settled in your little cottage in the woods. Living a happy domestic life. Growing crops and tending to a flower garden. Gavriel trains younglings in town as his hobby. Loving the fact that he can be a part of shaping young people into great soldiers.

And if you think you are telling him that you are pregnant. Forget about it. Gavriel would notice even before you did. He wouldn't necessarily clock onto it straight away. There's just a slight difference in how you smell. And that slight change makes something perk up deep inside him. This sudden wave of protectiveness rushed through his bloodstream.

So he just keeps an eye out for you. Not wanting to overwhelm you. But in case this is a sickness of some sort he wants to make sure that he would notice it before it spread. Yet all Gavriel finds is you becoming breathless quicker. Getting more grouchy at your mate, over the smallest things. Snaking right before bed and just randomly reaching for a pot of cookies throughout the day. But the thing that finally makes everything click is when Gavriel returns home after one of his lessons. It's barely after midday but he finds you curled up on a little day bed in the garden fast asleep. A warm smile spreads over his face as he steps closer.

Finally, he thinks to himself as he kneels in front of you. "I was waiting for you", Gavriel mutters, pressing his palm on your tummy. A little heartbeat is finally much easier to distinguish. No longer hidden by your own. "Had a feeling you were, happily growing there", and it's so surreal. To know. To be able to have this moment for himself. To be able to just soak in the knowledge. "Gavriel...", you mutter tiredly and your mate's eyes slowly drift back to you. "I see you've been busy", he teases almost, you narrow your eyes at him, "Hey, that's mean. I've made you lunch", you grumble.

But Gavriel is shaking his head, "Didn't mean it like that, my heart", he gently moves your hand to your tummy. You frown at first, confused by his actions but then your senses pick up on it. You let out a gasp. Big eyes watching Gavriel but he's just smiling. Smiling so fondly it's making your heart swell. "You knew?", you whisper, "I had a feeling something was different for a while but...", he admits, moving to brush away strand of your hair away from your face. "I'm... there's a baby", you whisper shout before your eyes fill up with tears, Gavriel lets out a breath laugh, "You're growing our little lion".

Honestly, the rest of the pregnancy would be out of a fantasy book. Gavriel is super attentive but he also cared for his previous partners in their pregnancies. So he knows what your body needs for sure. Trust him to be bringing home a whole area of fruits and goods you two don't have in your garden but that are beneficial for you and the baby.

He doesn't baby you. Nor is he controlling. You want to do laundry? Do it. Want to dust the floor or weed out the garden? Go for it. He doesn't try to put you on bed rest and lock you in the house. His only rule is - tell him when you start feeling tired. That's all he's asking of you. Gavriel knows moving around is good at the end of the day.

Doubt you would get protective outbursts from him. This man has too much self-control to just burst out, start throwing daggers, or murder someone if they came too close to you. It's more like as long as you are okay with people being close to you so is he. He's watching and assessing. He's looking for threats and dangerous it's just in a much more tamed manner.

Talks to the baby from the moment he finds out. Gavriel has many stories up his belt so nighttime stories are never dull. He always falls asleep holding your bump. He was always cuddly but now it's in his blood. He just needs to have you close. Feel you both.

He cherishes this pregnancy so much because it's the first time he could watch his partner and baby grow. Without someone interfering. Without Maeve lurking to harm. To take away. To rip to shreds the happiness. And so those fears come out at night through the nightmares that sometimes plague his sleep but they are quickly chased away by the baby moving around in your tummy. And he's so thankful for the chance to do this again to experience the love. The beauty of having a family.

[m-jelly]

@2moth-anon2 request

@ladycheesington <3

Dangerous times with dangerous spies

Levi x fem!reader

Canon world, fluff, romance, established couple, spy reader, MP reader, secret meetings, worried Levi.

Levi and the scouts are in hiding as trouble arises. You are their main contact with what's happening in the main city. Doing your best, you pass on secrets and try sabotaging as much as possible without getting caught and ensuring your man and his cadets are safe.

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @notgoodforlife @demonsimp6 @nbinairyn

Being in the military police was not what you wanted in life, but it was something that was shoved upon you. At first, you weren't happy, but when Erwin requested you be a spy for the scouts you considered it. When Levi was brought in to be your protector and contact, you were more interested because there was something between you and Levi. A slight flicker of the flame of love.

It didn't take long before Levi and you grew closer and the spying and meet-ups were rather enjoyable. Levi would bring you snacks and presents. The one day he brought you flowers with a strong blush was the cutest day ever and the most important because that day you kissed him, and it was the start of your relationship.

So, even though it took a year for you to become a couple, it was mainly due to the short meetings you had with him and he was rather shy, it was perfect. You adored Levi and you were about two years in now. You loved each other deeply and passionately. The two of you explored firsts with each other and were so dedicated that you would be each other's lasts.

As time went by in the city, the more disgusted you became with the human race. The only good people in the world seemed to be the scouts, it was hard to get to know them all and protect them because they were always being sent to fight, like lambs to slaughter.

It concerned you how bloodthirsty the politicians were for Erwin's head and the blood of the scouts. The scouts were the very reason a lot of the Titans stayed away. The scouts had the best soldiers to offer and they wanted them dead. It irritated you to hear the talks, but you couldn't say a thing because you had to play a role.

As soon as the meeting was over you chatted with the politicians for a moment. You were so smooth with the way you spoke to people that you had them all wrapped around your finger. They would tell you a lot more information than you would get from weeks of snooping and spying. They gave you everything.

With a gentle bow of your head, you parted ways with the gentlemen and made your way to your cadets. Your role was to train new cadets moved to the military police from the main unit. It was an easy job for you because again it kept your time free and you were around a lot of key members of staff.

The walk through the streets was rather pleasant for you. Compared to the outer walls, the inner city was clean and lively. You could get everything you wanted, but it wasn't everything you needed. Levi and you didn't want to live here as a couple. The two of you dreamed of a quiet cottage in a field by a wood, or by some water.

You did a bit of a shop that looked normal to anyone, just in case you were being watched and followed. You returned to your home, changed your clothes and made your way through the city to your meeting point. It was a sweet quiet spot by a cottage that had been abandoned. The home was a perfect spot for you and Levi if only you two had the time to fix the place up.

"Oi, brat?"

Just hearing Levi's deep voice sent a tingle through you and put a smile on your face. "Levi."

His walk was fast as he made his way over to you. "Tch, it's getting dangerous to do this. You could get hurt. I don't want you getting your shit kicked in." He huffed. "They'd torture you. I'd fucking kill them all if they did. Be careful."

You smiled sweetly at your worried lover. "I know. I'm sorry for worrying you. Would a kiss make you feel better?"

He pouted and looked away. "Fuck, brat. You can't solve everything with kisses, but yes this time I would feel better if I got a few, not one."

You approached your man, linked your arms around his neck and began kissing him over and over. A smile spread over your lips when he grabbed you tightly. The two of you made up for your time apart. The kissing was passionate and was beginning to become heated. Thankfully, you came to your senses before you two did something more.

You released Levi causing him to whine in protest. "Mm, I have something for you."

He walked over to the little spot you always used to sit and talk. It was perfectly under cover from all kinds of weather and anyone going past. It was cosy too, so you could sit close. He slipped his boots off and climbed inside. He got a bit more comfortable.

He sighed. "Ready."

A sweet and loving smile spread over your kissable lips. You presented Levi with some high-end tea, along with a tasty baked treat. "Enjoy."

He studied the tea box. "Fuck, this is impressive. Thank you."

"You're welcome." You cuddled up to Levi. "So, how are things?"

"Everyone is on edge. The kids are nervous. It's hard for them because they're normally so lively and active, but they're being made to stay put in a home together. It's frustrating for them."

You rubbed Levi's chest which instantly soothed him. "You're doing a wonderful job to help them."

"Tch, thanks." He ruffled his hair and glanced at you. "What about you?" He played with your hair and gazed at you with such soft affection. "Your role is so hard."

"Well, I'm doing it for a good cause." You released a long sigh. "It is hard sometimes knowing I'm lying to so many. I'm playing a role and it's hard to know which version of me is the real one." You smiled at Levi. "Then I see you and I know the real me is the one that is with you."

Levi tapped his forehead against yours. "It's a wonderful and perfect you. I like the you that's always shown around me. I love you."

You pressed your lips against Levi's making him happy. "Me too. I like who I am around you. I love you too."

He smiled and held you for a while. He pulled you to lie back with him as you just enjoyed being with each other again. He sighed when he felt the weight of his job growing. "Tch, shit. Could you tell me things going on?"

You hummed a laugh. "Sure." You started informing Levi of things going on in the city and what plans the politicians had and the military police. "They want to put an end to the scouts. Poor Erwin."

Levi growled a little. "He'll be fine."

You smiled a bit knowing your lover was jealous of you mentioning another man. "Well, that's all I have for you. I'm guessing you have to head back. If so, I'll stay here for a while. I need to...just lie here."

Levi hummed. "I'm not going yet. I just want to be with you, just a little longer."

[multific]

Two Halves of a Whole

2. Living with You

Part 1

Alpha!Osferth x Omega!Reader

Summary: When you moved away from the town you were born in, you didn't know where to go. Soon, you found an abandoned cottage in the woods and decided to make it your own. You never expected to meet your mate, but the scent made you follow. His scent made you go after him.

During each battle all he could think about is you.

All he could focus on was victory. 

Because each one meant he would be a step closer to going back to you.

His companions knew.

They knew the next morning about what happened. They could smell the sweet scent of the handkerchief in his pocket. They could see the shine in his eyes.

They all knew.

Yet, no one said anything. All of them stayed quiet about it.

But they were extremely happy for their baby monk.

So, when during their last battle Osferth got hurt, everyone's heart sank.

The fact that not only their friend got hurt but also the fact that he now had a sweet woman waiting for him, broke their heart.

Thankfully, Osferth, much like many alphas, healed quickly, and soon, he asked to be let go. He explained to his Lord that he wanted to go and be with his mate.

Uthred, of course, understood and gave the permission for him to leave. With the reminder that He could be back at any time as he pleases. And when he has pups of his own, he will have to introduce them.

Osferth left with bandages, but his heart was longing. Longing for the sweet Omega he met.

And he couldn't wait much longer to see you.

Injury or not.

And just how beautiful you were.

His dreams did no justice to your beauty or your scent as you stood there, smiling at him before running into his arms.

He was finally there, holding you.

---

You helped his wound heal, and Osferth was just so happy.

You were always so close, letting him smell you whenever he wished, his nose often found itself in your hair.

You were such a perfect Omega.

Osferth absolutely loved his new life.

Living with his Omega in this nice little comfortable cottage. 

He got used to this new life rather quickly. The chopping wood, feeding animals, and tending to a garden became his daily routine. 

You cooked, baked, fixed ripped clothes and helped him where you could.

Life with you was easy and comfortable. 

Osferth often found himself longing. Longing to be close to you in a different manner. But he knew he had to keep his beast down. The last thing he wanted was to scare you, especially since the two of you did have a lengthy conversation on mating and pups. And Osferth was a patient man.

But just because he agreed on waiting, didn't mean he wouldn't hold you close every single night. Letting you snuggle into his side as he kept both of his arms around you. 

And you adored him for it.

It made you feel safe and secure. You weren't sure just how you slept before, but you knew you would never be able to sleep alone again.

And you didn't have to.

To your surprise, Osfert was a rather good farmer. He had a lot of knowledge on herbs. He also took good care of your animals.

If you weren't in love with him before, the moment his eyes shined as he ate your cooking surely would have made you fall.

One evening, Osferth was looking around the house, trying to find you but he couldn't.

"Lady Y/N!" he yelled for what felt like the thousandth time. "OMEGA!" he ended up yelling in desperation. 

Why couldn't he find you?

Where were you?

He tried to find you using your scent but since everything around the house smelled like you, he had no luck. 

Then, he smelled it. 

"Fuck!" he said, quickly grabbing his nose in his hands, he needed to focus. He ran out of the house, finding you standing by the river, he could see you were shaking. Upon his arrival, you slowly turned.

"I don't know what's going on. I'm scared." you whispered as he still tried his best not to inhale from his nose.

"You are in heat, Love." 

Oh. That explained it. 

"Will you help me, Osferth? I'm so hot but cold at the same time."

"Don't ask me to help. I won't be able to control myself. Let's get you home." he reached out to you. 

You knew what a heat was. You had them previously but they were never this strong. Could be because this time you had your mate with you.

You two were on your way home when you suddenly stopped, making Osferth look at you.

"I didn't build a... nest." you admitted, it made you feel like you have failed.

"It's okay, you couldn't expect it to happen, we can build you one now, a nice and warm one, okay?"

You quickly nodded before following him once more.

You stood in front of your bed, looking at it, frozen as Osferth grabbed a couple blankets and some of his shirts, putting it down next to you.

You looked at the pile of clothes before starting on your nest.

You were amazed at how great it turned out.

You were led by instinct and it paid off. You then slowly moved to lay down in it, Osferth knelt down on the floor, reaching for your hand as he watched you.

He heard a lot about heat. He knew what an Omega needed when they were in one, he heard that some experienced pain and also others barely even noticed that they were in heat. You looked calm and collected, which did help to keep his inner beast down. He would hate to do something you would regret later. 

"Can you hold me? Like you always do?" you asked.

"I-In your nest, Lady?"

"Join me please." and he didn't need to be told twice. He quickly moved laying down behind you just like you asked, his arms moving around you. His nose glued to your neck, smelling you. 

He took deep breaths smelling the aroma your body left, only for him. 

But he needed to protect you.

From what? He wasn't sure. But he knew he needed to protect you because he would certainly not use your heat to breed you. He wouldn't let his mind even wonder in that direction.

You weren't ready, and frankly, he wasn't either.

Not now.

Osferth found it rather easy to keep his Alpha in check. He was afraid to lose control, but he never did. 

You were also a lot calmer than you thought you would be. But then again, there were heats in the cases of Omegas when they didn't experience it as strongly as other times. It really varied. 

And this one, was a short and less intense one. 

And you were grateful for that.

But you were even more grateful for Osferth. He stayed beside you at all times. Not letting go of you, you could only imagine how hard it was for him.

Little did you know that it wasn't as bad as he expected it to be.

And as your heat ended, you returned to your normal routine.

One evening, Osferth finally gathered his courage and asked your hand in marriage.

You knew that his God meant a lot to him, so it was no surprise that he wished to marry you.

And of course, you said yes.

You two got married in the village close to your home. You two made up a story about being runaway lovers and the priest was more than happy to wed you two. It was late at night. But he still looked like the most beautiful man in the entire world. 

He was your world.

As you watched his eyes shine in the candle light, his hair a bit longer than before, his smile never leaving his face.

You knew that he was all you ever needed.

Your perfect, protective Alpha.

Taglist: @fleursirvart​ @greenarrowhead​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​ @sincerelyfan​ @theoneanna​ @aestheticsandmarvel​ @rororo06​ @castellandiangelo​ @destynelseclipsa​ @spilledinkindumpster​ @capsiclesdoll​ @puknow​ @alwayshave-faith​ @alex12948​ @lxdyred​  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek​ @praline357​ @trshngyn​ @avengers-r-us​ @violet-19999​ @top1bbgloak​  @manduse​​  @jacalineiscomingforyou​  

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, PLAGIARIZE, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[whumpshaped]

yess!! talk about the new blorbo!!

okay. so.

tw minor character death

her name is mézi cooper (pronounced like daisy with an m, maisy) and she's 28 years old and she lives in a cottage out in the woods.

she grew up in that cottage with her parents, but then her parents decided they really wanted to sell the property and move to the city somehow, in whatever way they could, because they just didn't want to be living near the vampire territory border. (i made her for an rp with @whumpsday hence vamp territory.) mézi was devastated because what about the crops? the livestock? what about her precious chickens? mom you cant sell the chickens! she is Staying.

her parents said okay well you'll have to come with us when we sell the house to be able to buy a flat. mézi said well good luck no one's buying property near the border. there was a big argument and eventually it got solved when mézi's grandma died and her mother inherited the apartment. a bit small even for two people, so mézi was like yea u guys go ahead i am Staying. bye.

and well, what were her parents supposed to do? she was already 20 years old, she wasn't a kid, she had her own money by selling stuff from the little farm and taking odd jobs. they left her there. mézi visits them often enough, and nothing bad has ever happened to her before, so... (lies lies lies they're worried sick mézi can't be living out there ALONE in a SECLUDED FORESTY AREA this is SO BAD)

anyway mézi has been living in her little cottage all alone for like 8 years now :D she has Cool Hobbies (/j) like hunting and shooting guns. idk she's just a capable young woman. she's good with a knife ok. i'm sure that will save her from any mean person. or creature.

she's kinda happy go lucky. doesn't believe any misfortune can befall her. she believes many vampires have already ran past her little property and saw her tending to the plants and animals and thought "wow that's a lone woman taking care of all those things and creatures... we cant kidnap her :/ who would take care of the chickens :/" she really does believe even vampires have morals and a conscience :)

some more random facts about her

she's left-handed

she's pretty strong from working on the farm

she always has a knife with her

she names all her animals

she likes to help people and she believes it's good karma

she's very polite and good-mannered but boy does she get mad when other people are rude

she still believes her parents were overly paranoid for leaving the cottage like this

link