#welcome to the howling forest

[episims]

"Uh-oh. Rats! It's the cauldron. It seems to attract wolves-"

"Aw, hey, buddy. It does smell good, doesn't it?"

"Woof!"

"Yeah, I get it. Kinda alluring and annoying at the same time, huh?"

"...What?"

"Um, nothing! So, uh... you can speak with wolves, too?"

"No? I only—pfft. Now you're just messing up with me!"

*chuckles*

"Shut up, man. C'mon, where's Atty? I want to greet him, too."

[munefille]

𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐑-

yandere!false angel x gn.reader

cw: gore, death, attempted sa (not by yandere)

2.2k; not proofread bc I believe in myself. based on this imagine.

what were you expecting, venturing this far into the woods at night? there's something stalking you from behind the trees. a terrible beast watches and you are powerless to its mercy. luckily, your prayers are answered; not by god, but by the angel covered in red.

The wind was the first thing you noticed. It was still, not even a breeze licked at your skin, nor a sudden chill digging into your bones. Cold, yes, the cold remained even without the slashing wind. The sun dipped farther and farther below the skyline as you walked, taking with it the last remnants of warmth. You tugged your shawl tighter around your form.

Regret began to seep into you. What were you doing in these dark woods? There could be packs of wolves, or bears, or mountain lions, or another predator searching for a meal out there, you being a prime target. A shudder raced down your spine. As terrifying as the thought of being ripped apart by wild creatures was, you were almost certain it would be worse to be caught by him.

You glanced behind you, into the maw of dark trees and snow covered ground from which you came. Threats of what he promised to do to you should you be found echoed through your mind, motivating you to ignore the weariness in your muscles and push forward.

You chided yourself at your predicament- the huntsman seemed so kind. He promised you a warm bed and a meal for the night while you waited out the snow, mentioning how he understood the difficulty of traveling during the winter months. He made good conversation, although he spoke little of himself. You doubted he would present to be a threat towards you. How wrong you were.

Oh yes, he provided a meal and a bed for you, but neither were out of the kindness of his heart. No, apparently there was an expectation that you were going to service him in some way- to which you promptly refused. It was then that his true nature began to reveal itself. The huntsman grabbed one of his weapons, threatening to get his rightful payment since nothing comes for free. He wasn't going to let you leave otherwise.

You were lucky to have made it out of the door. You booked it, running in whatever direction you were facing, which happened to be the thick, untamed forest. He was searching for you, that much you knew. You could hear the howls of his hunting dogs somewhere behind you, sniffing you out.

Panic was starting to set in. What were you going to do? It was cold, you were running out of stamina, and you had no clue where you were or how long it would take to reach another village. These woods seemed to stretch for hundreds of acres, completely uninhabited by people. It was easy to get lost here you imagined, the tall trees melded into each other at some point. You could be going in one big circle for all you knew.

Besides the clearly psychotic man on your trail, the woods itself concerned you. There was a distinct feeling that said you aren't supposed to be here. As if the trees were going to wrap around your limbs and pull you apart on their own. You knew that was unlikely, but still- something in the back of your mind remained aware of the fact that you were bordering territory that would not welcome you. Maybe it was because you recalled the horror stories of people who entered and never came out- or they returned with not all of them attached.

Another howl cut through the air, snapping you out of your rumination. It was much closer this time. Frighteningly close. Close enough that you wouldn't be able to outrun it from where you were. There was only one other choice- hide. You scanned your surroundings, searching for something that would cover you. There was a small clearing up ahead and woods on both sides of you. The trees were too thin, but there were a couple of fallen ones and an uprooted trunk that created an opening just large enough for you to crawl into and hide behind. It would have to work.

You tucked yourself in, heart hammering frantically in your chest. He was so close now that you could hear his boots crunching against the freshly fallen snow. The chuffs of his dogs resounded in your ears like deafening booms, each one ready to rat you out.

"We could've done this the easy way, you know." The huntsman spoke into the silence, voice dripping with malice. Your heart dropped. Did he know you were nearby?

Your hands covered your mouth, trying to prevent yourself from breathing too loud. You could see him now, he was a couple feet ahead of you in the clearing. A large hunting knife glistened in the moonlight. Heavy realization set in, he was going to kill you.

And there was nothing you could do to stop him.

If you ran, one of his dogs would surely chase after you. You had no weapons to fight him with nor the strength to go against his much more well prepared form. The cold sapped at your energy, making it a chore just to keep yourself alert. The adrenaline helped, but it wouldn't last forever.

You did the only thing you could do. Pray.

You clasped your hands together as you waited, shutting your eyes and mouthing pleas to whoever would answer. Even if you had never been one to pray before, the imminent threat of your mortality was enough to make you chant feverishly for mercy.

And an answer you got.

The huntsman paused, shushing his mutts while sticking his nose up to the sky. Then it happened.

It was almost too quick for you to catch- one minute he was standing in the clearing, the next he was dangling above the trees. A white flash of feathers came down upon him, plucking his form like a mouse caught by a vicious hawk. With a powerful beat of the creature's wings he disappeared out of sight, far above the canopy of the trees. His dogs cried out for their master, but even they retreated into the safety of the brush for fear of being snatched.

One long, haunting death screech pierced the once still air for just a few seconds before abruptly quieting. There was barely any time to process what you saw or what had happened when splatters of red rained down from the sky, staining the white snow like paint on a canvas. Something round and fleshy dropped and landed on the snowy floor with a cracking sound, almost similar to a coconut.

You strained your eyes to see what it was.

A... head.

Not long after the creature swooped back down with the remaining parts of the huntsman, holding his corpse up to its mouth like a cat with a large rat. You shifted ever so slightly from your hidden position where you could get a proper look at it while it seemed distracted.

The scene was horrible, but you couldn't stop the awe that crossed your mind as you gazed at it. Two large, white wings speckled with blood emerged from the pale being's back. So pale it was that it practically blended into the snow.

The more you looked, the more you thought it seemed to appear more humanoid than creature, so reminiscent of the angelic sculptures you would see watching over graveyards. From the great wings, to the long white hair, it was nearly exact to how you would picture heaven's inhabitants to appear. Except, they couldn't capture how overwhelming the presence of it was. Utterly magnetic in a way you couldn't describe, a kind of beauty not defined by humanity.

you've been rescued by an angel.

It came right when you called, in your greatest time of need, like it had already been watching. Like a guardian angel.

Distracted by your realization, you didn't notice eyes locking onto your hiding form.

-

He missed one.

Warm blood trailed down his lips, dripping onto the white ground below. A human thing was hiding in the foliage, behind the broken trees.

He focused back on the body in his grasp. So loud and annoying, parading about his territory, hunting his prey. The deer were already scarce this winter, but the human had scared off the remaining few. Other prey were not as abundant. Humans he did not often approach, but everything was fair game in his domain.

He took a bite of the neck, the flesh tearing apart like filled dough. The metallic taste caused his wings to rustle in delight. He almost forgot the tenderness of human meat, rich with fat and underdeveloped muscles from a life of comfort. As of late, there had been less and less willing to enter the deep woods where he roamed, most likely due to what ends up being leftover of those who do.

His attention is drawn back to the one who tried to hide. Amusing, it hasn't run yet. Maybe it knows that it has no chance if it runs, even in the crowded trees his form is lithe enough to maneuver around the branches much better than the human can. It must've thought that the only viable option is to wait for him to finish and leave. Such a plan might've worked, if he was a much less vigilant predator.

The body is dropped onto the snow with a thud, entrails spilling out of the half eaten man. He was in a good mood, not only was the problematic creature dead but he had just gotten a meal along with it. Maybe he would decide to do something else with the remaining one.

Slowly, he turns his head in the human's direction.

-

The angel is approaching you.

It's now crouched, no longer standing on two legs; instead slinking towards you like a cat. You would be terrified by the sight of this massive creature covered in blood targeting you had you not already made up your mind that is must be your guardian angel.

When it is close enough to reach out to you, it pauses. It cocks its head, temporarily parting the hair covering its face to reveal pale, blanched purple eyes. Its- his- face was decidedly masculine, you thought. The wings on his back are folded close to his form, reducing any drag they could've caused.

Your heart is pumping, but this time not out of fear- no, you're enthralled by this opportunity.

The angel opened his mouth, uttering words that made you freeze.

"Be not afraid."

You think your pulse stopped for a solid moment. The voice was somehow quiet, yet cold and not quite reassuring. It surprised you that he could even speak in the first place. The smell of metallic blood and pine was noticeable. You reach out shakily, just slightly touching his hair. Your fingers meet the white threads, long and thin, like spider webs. The creature flinched in surprise at your boldness, but didn't move away.

The question tumbled out of your mouth before you could regret saying it. "Are you... are you my guardian angel?"

The angel fixed you with an unreadable expression. You thought he was confused for a second, before he stood up to his full height, no longer face to face with your form curled up in the branches. You couldn't help the raw unease that came to you then, he must've been nearly twice your height, taller than any man you had ever seen.

"Angel?" it repeated, looking down at you. "Your angel?"

Your mouth felt dry. The wind started picking up again, gliding through his feathers and into your bones. There were two options being presented to you; either you were right, and this being was an angel, or you were wrong. You didn't want to imagine what was standing before you if you were wrong, especially not after witnessing what became of the huntsman.

He seemed to consider this, staring down at you with strange intensity. His eyes were once again covered by hair, making his expression even more difficult to decipher.

A tense few moments passed before he spoke again. "Would an angel show you mercy? Lead you out of the woods to run back home?"

You nodded your head, still not daring to move. He bends down to pet your head, lips curling up subtly at your reaction.

True to his word, the angel did lead you out of the forest- although you lagged behind significantly and weren't nearly as swift navigating through it. It was a wonder how something so large moved as fast as he did. You were beyond grateful, thanking whatever higher power had listened to you. It was unlikely you would've made it out yourself, even with the huntsman gone. The woods were not friendly to outsiders.

You didn't say a word as you followed, too busy keeping up to ask any more questions. Tiredness overcame you as well now that your survival mode was beginning to wear off, leaving you sluggish and inattentive.

When you reached the treeline outside of the huntsman's cabin, you looked back up at your savior to thank him, only to be met with nothing but the breeze.

"Thank you." You whispered, regardless of whether or not you would be heard. The thought of your experience being a trauma induced hallucination crossed your mind, one you would consider if it wasn't for the fact that there was a large white feather caught by a tree limb beside you.

It was now almost morning. The sun was preparing to rise over the horizon soon.

You trekked your way back home, unaware of the new pair of eyes following you from the sky.

[moonlitstoriess]

Bound in Silence- Rhysand x fem!Reader part 2

A/n: 8.7k words! Phew! This was definitely a rollercoaster of emotions but, I hope you guys enjoy it!💕

Part 1 here

After surviving her fall, Y/n embarks on a path of healing while Rhysand begins to realize the truth about their bond. As Rhys grapples with guilt and confusion, Y/n must learn to rebuild her life. But when their paths cross again, Rhys will need to fight for her forgiveness, hoping to mend what was once broken.

She shouldn’t have survived.

The wind had howled in her ears as she plummeted from the cliff’s edge, the ground rushing up to meet her, a cold, hard end she had welcomed. The pain, the heartbreak—it had been too much, too consuming. But as the world around her blurred, she felt a sudden, violent impact, not against solid ground, but against something softer—brush and sand.

When she opened her eyes, it was not death that greeted her but the harsh light of dawn streaming through the trees above, the sound of waves crashing against the shore in the distance. She lay in a thicket, a tangled mess of branches and brambles that had broken her fall, offering her an unexpected refuge.

Her body ached with bruises from the impact, sharp pain flaring in her ribs and a throbbing headache pulsing at her temples. She felt the grit of sand embedded in her skin and the taste of salt on her lips. But she was alive.

Y/n struggled to sit up, her hands trembling as she pressed against the ground for support. Panic surged through her. The memories of the cliff, of the choice she had made, washed over her like a tide pulling her under. Had she really leapt to escape the torment of her heart? The betrayal she felt was still fresh, the sting of Rhysand’s indifference cutting deeper than any physical wound.

As she surveyed her surroundings, a dense forest framed her, the trees standing tall like silent sentinels. The sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the ground, and the distant sound of waves served as a haunting reminder of the world she had tried to leave behind. But where was she? She had no idea how far she had fallen or where this path might lead.

Y/n took a moment to catch her breath, the air crisp and sharp in her lungs. She was alone, utterly alone, with no family to return to, no familiar faces to seek comfort from. The weight of that truth settled deep in her chest. She had thought—foolishly—that Rhysand had been her salvation, her anchor in that hellish place. But in the end, she had meant nothing to him.

Pushing herself to her feet, she wobbled unsteadily, pain radiating through her ribs. The instinct to survive propelled her forward, one shaky step at a time. She didn’t know where she was going. The road ahead seemed just as empty as the one behind her.

But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore.

Each step felt heavier, and with every movement, she fought against the urge to collapse back to the ground. The memories of Rhysand—their stolen moments, their laughter, and the warmth of his presence—crashed over her like the waves she could hear in the distance. He had made her feel seen in a way she had never experienced before, and now that light was extinguished.

As she wandered deeper into the forest, the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows among the trees. Y/n found a small clearing where she sank to the ground, her body protesting at the sudden relief. She closed her eyes, letting the sounds of nature surround her, searching for solace in the rustling leaves and chirping birds.

What she realized, in that moment of stillness, was that surviving wasn’t enough. She needed to reclaim herself, to remember who she had been before the darkness took hold. The journey ahead would be long and fraught with challenges, but the thought of facing them alone no longer filled her with dread. Instead, it ignited a flicker of determination.

“Whatever lies ahead,” she whispered to the trees, “I will find my way.”

With that resolve, Y/n pushed herself back up, brushing the leaves from her clothes and glancing around. The forest was alive with the sound of chirping birds and rustling leaves, and she couldn’t help but feel that life, despite its challenges, was still worth fighting for.

She pressed on, each step feeling heavier than the last. The forest wrapped around her like a shroud, the branches swaying gently as if whispering secrets she couldn’t quite grasp. She staggered through the underbrush, branches snagging her clothes and tearing at her skin, but she hardly noticed. The pain in her ribs was a constant reminder of her fall, pulsing with each movement, and fatigue settled in her bones like a thick fog.

She tried to focus on the path ahead, but her vision began to blur, the edges of her surroundings fading in and out. She needed to find shelter, a place to rest and gather her strength. The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows that seemed to dance mockingly around her, urging her to give in to the darkness that threatened to swallow her whole.

With every step, Y/n felt herself growing weaker. Her legs trembled, and the world spun slightly around her. She stumbled, hitting the ground hard, the breath leaving her lungs in a gasp. Panic surged through her as she fought to regain her breath, but the pain from her injuries was overwhelming. She lay there for a moment, staring up at the canopy of leaves above, feeling utterly defeated.

Then, as she struggled to push herself back up, she heard voices in the distance, their laughter ringing through the trees. At first, she thought it might be a cruel trick of her mind, a hallucination born from the exhaustion and pain. But as the laughter grew closer, a flicker of hope ignited within her.

“Did you hear that?” one voice said, clear and bright. “I think someone’s out there!”

Y/n’s heart raced, a mix of fear and hope flooding her veins. She wanted to call out, to let them know she was here, but the words caught in her throat. She could only lie there, trying to steady her breathing as the voices approached.

Moments later, a group of travelers emerged from the trees, their expressions shifting from joviality to concern as they spotted her on the ground. They were a motley crew—rough and worn but with a kindness that seemed to radiate from them. The tallest among them, a woman with long, dark hair and bright blue eyes, rushed forward.

“Oh, gods! What happened?” she exclaimed, kneeling beside Y/n. “Can you hear me? Are you hurt?”

Y/n tried to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, she looked up at the woman, her vision swimming as darkness crept at the edges of her sight.

“We need to get her out of here,” another voice said, a man with a thick beard who stepped forward. “She looks injured. We can’t leave her like this.”

The group quickly moved around her, their chatter fading into a distant hum as Y/n felt herself drifting. Hands gently lifted her, and though every movement sent jolts of pain through her body, the warmth of their concern began to wrap around her like a comforting blanket.

“Stay with us, okay?” the woman said, her voice soothing. “We’re going to help you.”

Y/n wanted to cling to those words, to believe that perhaps this was her chance to find solace. But the world began to fade, the faces of her rescuers becoming blurry as she lost her grip on consciousness. Just before the darkness took her, she felt a warm hand clasp her own, a connection that anchored her for one fleeting moment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Velaris was a sanctuary, hidden from the world and its chaos, but even its beauty couldn’t soothe the turmoil within him. Rhysand leaned against the balcony railing of the townhouse, staring out at the starry sky, yet his thoughts were far from peaceful. Feyre was with Tamlin in the Spring Court, and every moment spent thinking about their time together made his chest tighten with frustration.

He had felt so powerless during her trials, watching from afar as she struggled, battling her fears and doubts. His heart had raced as he witnessed her strength, yet it ignited a fury within him that simmered just below the surface. Tamlin didn’t deserve her. He was blinded by his love for Feyre, unable to see the darkness creeping into their lives, a darkness that Rhysand feared would swallow her whole.

“Damn it, Feyre,” he muttered under his breath, clenching his fists. “You don’t belong there.”

The weight of the Night Court’s responsibilities pressed heavily on him, and he found himself retreating deeper into his thoughts. The war with Amarantha had left scars that would take time to heal. But all he could think about was Feyre’s laughter, the way her eyes lit up in defiance, and the warmth that enveloped him when she was near.

Suddenly, he felt a pang of icy cold hit his chest, a feeling of.....nothing overtaking him. Rhysands body shuddered. He could now feel a string of sorts a....a bond. A bond with her, with y/n. But why was it so empty?

A shiver ran down his spine, and he closed his eyes, reaching out instinctively through the bond he shared with Y/n. Instead of comforting warmth, there was nothing but an oppressive silence. It was as if she had vanished, leaving a void that echoed with despair.

Since when did I have a bond with her? The thought sliced through his mind like a blade. He had dismissed their connection, buried it under layers of his feelings for Feyre. But now, the absence of Y/n felt like a cruel twist of fate, a reminder of what he had ignored for too long.

Panic surged through him as he searched for any hint of her presence, any sign that she was safe. But all he felt was the chilling silence, a stark contrast to the vibrant energy that had once flowed between them.

“Y/n,” he breathed, the name feeling foreign on his tongue. “Where are you?”

He pushed himself away from the balcony railing, his heart pounding in his chest. He needed to know what was happening, to understand why the bond felt so strained, so distant. A part of him clung to the hope that she was simply out of reach, that she was safe and sound somewhere beyond his grasp.

But the gnawing sense of dread would not let him rest. He was tied to her in a way he had never fully understood, and now that connection was fraying at the edges, unraveling into something that filled him with an ache he couldn’t quite place.

It hit him then, like a thunderclap in the stillness of his thoughts: Y/n was his mate. The realization sent shockwaves through him, unraveling the tension in his chest and filling him with a potent mixture of dread and yearning.

She mattered. She had always mattered, perhaps more than he had ever let himself admit.

As he stood there, the weight of his decisions began to settle upon him. He had taken her for granted, focused solely on his feelings for Feyre while ignoring the depth of his connection with Y/n.

He had to find her. He had to understand what was happening.

~~~~~~~~~

Y/n awoke in a small, dimly lit room, the soft murmur of voices and the sound of footsteps moving outside the door barely reaching her ears. Her body ached, every movement sending sharp reminders of her injuries. She tried to sit up, but a firm hand gently pressed her back down.

“Easy,” a woman’s voice murmured. Y/n blinked, her vision clearing enough to see the woman from before—the one with long, dark hair and kind, blue eyes—sitting beside her. “You’re still hurt. Your ribs were bruised, and you were half-frozen when we found you. You need rest.”

Y/n grimaced, ignoring the throbbing pain as she forced herself into a sitting position. She wasn’t used to lying still. “I’m fine,” she muttered, but her body betrayed her words, her legs too weak to support her even if she tried to stand.

The woman, who had introduced herself as Lira, smiled gently. “Stubborn, aren’t you? It’s alright to let someone help you.”

Y/n’s eyes flicked to the door. The laughter of children and the hum of distant conversations filtered in from outside. She frowned. “Where am I?”

“A village,” Lira said, watching her carefully. “Small, but we’re a close-knit community. Everyone knows everyone here. We help each other, share what we have.”

Jealousy flared in Y/n’s chest, sharp and uninvited. A place where people lived in peace, helping one another without a second thought. It was so different from the life she knew—so far from the chaos and heartbreak that had led her here.

Y/n’s voice was rough as she asked, “How long was I out?”

“A few days. We did what we could to help you recover. But you’ve still got some healing to do.”

Silence fell between them. Y/n’s gaze remained on the door, but her thoughts were far from the village. Her mind returned to the cliff, to the crushing despair that had driven her to jump. She had wanted the pain to end—had thought it would, but here she was, still breathing, still hurting.

Lira’s voice broke through her thoughts. “How did you end up in that forest? You were in pretty bad shape when we found you.”

Y/n hesitated. She didn’t owe this woman her story—didn’t owe anyone anything anymore—but the weight of it pressed down on her, and maybe, just maybe, telling a small part of it would help ease the burden.

“I had a mate,” Y/n said softly, her voice barely more than a whisper. Lira’s brow furrowed in sympathy, waiting for more. “He chose someone else.”

The words tasted bitter on her tongue, but they were the truth. Rhysand had never even known. Never knew that she had felt the bond snap into place, that the invisible thread between them had formed. It didn’t matter now—he had chosen Feyre, and that choice had shattered her.

Lira’s eyes were filled with gentle curiosity. “Why didn’t you tell him?”

Y/n shook her head, her throat tight. “It’s… complicated. He never knew, and by the time I realized, it was already too late. He… he was in love with her.”

Lira was quiet for a moment, processing Y/n’s words. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “That sounds… painful.”

Y/n didn’t respond, her gaze distant, as if she could still see the edges of Amarantha's court from where she sat. The love she’d seen in Rhysand’s eyes when he looked at Feyre had been undeniable. He had never looked at her that way, not even close.

“Maybe we can contact your family?” Lira suggested, trying to be helpful.

Y/n’s jaw tightened, her eyes flickering to Lira’s kind face. “I don’t have anyone.”

“No one at all?”

Y/n shook her head, a cold emptiness settling in her chest. She had no family left—no home, no place to return to. “It’s just me.”

Lira sighed softly, her brow creasing in thought. “Then stay here with us,” she offered, her voice warm. “At least until you’re healed, and after that… you can decide where you want to go.”

Y/n’s instinct was to refuse immediately. She had seen too much, been through too much, to believe in the kindness of strangers anymore. She didn’t trust it—not after what she had lost. And yet… this woman, this village… they didn’t know her, didn’t know what she carried, and still, they had taken her in.

“I don’t know if I can,” Y/n said, her voice barely audible.

“Why not?” Lira asked gently. “You’ve been through something terrible, that much is clear. But there’s no need to face it alone.”

Y/n glanced at her, doubt gnawing at her insides. Could she trust these people? Could she allow herself even a moment of peace in this quiet village after everything?

Lira smiled again, softer this time. “Just think about it. We’re not going anywhere.”

Y/n gave a small nod, her mind already spinning with the enormity of her situation. She had nowhere to go, no plan for what came next. Maybe, for now, she could stay here—just until she figured out what to do.

~~~~~~~~

Rhysand’s mind raced, the weight of realization crashing over him like a tidal wave. Y/n was his mate. It wasn’t something he could dismiss anymore, not after the sudden void he felt through the bond. For so long, he had tried to push aside the connection, telling himself that Feyre was his priority. And yet, here he stood, drowning in guilt and confusion as the truth settled in.

She had always been there, a steady presence in his life—loyal, fierce, and strong. He had admired her, even cared for her, but it wasn’t until now that he understood the depth of that connection. And now, she was gone. Or worse—hurt.

“Mother above,” Rhys muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. He had been so blinded by Feyre, so consumed by his need to protect her, that he had failed to notice what had always been right in front of him.

The bond had been subtle at first, an almost imperceptible tether that he had never fully explored. But now? Now it was like a raw wound, aching in a way that made his chest tighten. He couldn’t feel her—couldn’t sense her. She was gone from his awareness, and that terrified him more than anything else.

Rhysand clenched his jaw, his thoughts spiraling into a panic. What if something had happened to her? The Night Court had always been a place of sanctuary, but the world beyond Velaris was filled with dangers—dangers that Y/n, in her current state, might not be able to fend off.

“I’ve been a fool,” he whispered, the words bitter on his tongue.

Turning away from the balcony, Rhys stormed back inside the palace, his steps quick and determined. He couldn’t just stand here and do nothing. He needed to find her, to reach her through the bond, to bring her back if she was in danger.

But how? He had never explored this connection before, had never let himself dwell on what it meant. And now, with Y/n’s presence completely cut off, he wasn’t sure where to begin.

His heart pounded, and the gnawing fear clawed at his insides. He didn’t know if she was safe. Didn’t know where she was. But he would find her, no matter what it took.

Rhysand closed his eyes and reached deep into himself, seeking out the bond, trying to find any flicker of her. He focused on that missing warmth, on the piece of him that felt like it had been torn away. And in the quiet of his mind, a whisper—barely there—flickered. A spark of something. Pain. Despair.

He gasped, the sensation hitting him hard, and for the briefest of moments, he felt her—felt the depth of her agony, the exhaustion, the loss.

“Y/n…” he breathed, his voice low, anguished. Wherever she was, she was suffering.

Rhysand knew he had to act quickly. There was no time to waste. He had to find her before it was too late.

With a sharp breath, he called for his wings, already preparing to leave. He will explain everything to his family later. Y/n—his mate—needed him now more than ever.

Rhysand landed softly in the clearing where he had last seen Y/n, his heart pounding in his chest. The forest loomed around him, dark and quiet, the air heavy with the scent of earth and damp leaves. Shadows stretched long in the fading light of the moon, casting an eerie stillness over the scene. His wings rustled as they folded behind him, but his mind was already racing, already searching.

This was where he had last seen her—right here, among the trees and the underbrush. She had watched him and Feyre have their conversation after Amaranthas death. Y/n thought she was hidden within the trees but he felt her, he always felt her presence, one would always feel the presence of one's mate. But he was too much of a fool to realize it sooner.

He moved through the clearing, his eyes scanning the ground, searching for any sign of her. A broken branch, a trace of her scent—anything. But the air was thick with silence, and the bond between them was weak, almost nonexistent now.

"Y/n!" Rhysand’s voice echoed through the trees, but no answer came. His shadows spread out, feeling through the dark, desperate to find any trace of her. But there was nothing.

He pressed forward, moving deeper into the forest, the trees closing in around him. The memories of their time together—of her strength, her resilience—pushed him on, even as doubt gnawed at the edges of his mind. What if she was gone? What if she was hurt, or worse?

He couldn’t think like that. Not yet. He had to find her.

"Y/n!" he called again, his voice strained, raw with desperation. He stumbled through the undergrowth, his boots sinking into the damp earth, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Every step felt heavier than the last, the weight of his failure bearing down on him.

But the forest remained silent.

Rhysand reached the edge of a small stream, the water trickling softly over the rocks. He crouched down, running his fingers through the mud, searching for any sign that she had been here. Nothing. His chest tightened, his heart hammering against his ribs as the realization began to settle in.

She wasn’t here.

His hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms as he rose to his feet. The bond was slipping away, unraveling like a thread being pulled loose. He had never let it guide him before, never truly acknowledged its presence, but now, as it faded, the loss felt like a wound he couldn’t heal.

He had to keep searching.

Rhysand pushed further into the forest, his movements frantic now, his wings twitching with the urge to take flight again, to cover more ground. The trees blurred around him, the shadows twisting and bending as his magic flared, but there was no trace of her.

No warmth. No bond. Nothing.

Hours passed in a haze of desperation and despair. The moon climbed higher in the sky, casting pale light through the canopy, but it did little to ease the gnawing fear growing inside him. By the time he reached the edge of the forest, Rhysand felt hollow, the weight of his failure pressing down on him with every step.

He was running out of time. Out of hope.

When he finally made the decision to return to Velaris, his wings were heavy, his body exhausted, but his mind couldn’t rest. The flight back felt longer than it should have, his thoughts spiraling into darker and darker places. What if she was gone for good? What if he had missed his chance—missed her?

The moment he landed on the balcony of the House of Wind, the emptiness hit him like a tidal wave. He dropped to his knees, his fingers curling against the cold stone as he tried to catch his breath, tried to steady himself.

But the bond was still faint. Almost gone.

He stood slowly, his mind racing. He had searched where he last saw her. He had searched the forest. But there was one more place she could be—her home. The Dawn Court. She was from there, had roots there. Maybe she had returned, seeking refuge among her people.

It was a slim hope, but it was all he had.

Rhysand straightened, determination burning in his veins. He would contact Thesan, the High Lord of the Dawn Court. He had to know if Y/n was there, if she was safe. But for now, all he could do was wait—and that waiting felt like a slow, torturous pull on his very soul.

She was his mate. And she was gone.

The thought settled into his chest like a cold, hard stone, and Rhysand knew that until he found her—until he brought her back—there would be no peace. He would flip this world upside down to find her.

~~~~~~~

Y/n lay back down, her body sinking into the soft mattress as she stared at the flickering flames in the hearth. Lira’s offer lingered in her mind, but doubt gnawed at her. It wasn’t just the village’s kindness that unsettled her—it was the thought of staying, of settling, when her entire world had crumbled around her.

Her heart felt heavy, weighed down by the memories of Rhysand and everything she had lost. How could she heal in a place like this, where people lived in peace and harmony? She wasn’t like them—she carried too much darkness, too much pain.

Still, there was something about this village, something about Lira’s gentle demeanor that made Y/n want to believe, if only for a moment, that maybe she could find some peace here. Just for a while.

The thought was almost laughable. She had no right to peace.

Lira stood up from her chair, sensing Y/n's internal battle. “I’ll let you rest,” she said, her voice soft. “But if you need anything, just call for me.”

Y/n nodded but didn’t respond as Lira slipped quietly out of the room, leaving her alone with her thoughts. The sounds of the village continued to drift through the window—the laughter, the conversations, the gentle hum of a life Y/n had never known.

Her hand unconsciously drifted to her chest, to where the bond with Rhysand had once tugged at her heart. Now, there was only a hollow ache, a reminder of what had been and what could never be. She had loved him—fiercely, silently, and without hope.

And he had never known.

The thought made her chest tighten again, that familiar grief washing over her. She had been nothing to him, just another face from Dawn, another puppet to use and discard. And now… she was nothing at all.

The hours passed slowly. Y/n found herself drifting in and out of sleep, her body still weak from the injuries. In her dreams, she saw flashes of her past—Her life in Dawn, her little trinkets that she would create to make some living, Rhysand. And then, always, Feyre. Her face haunted Y/n, the reminder of who Rhysand had truly chosen.

When she awoke again, it was darker outside, the village sounds quieter now. Lira hadn’t returned, and Y/n was grateful for the space. She needed time to think, to decide what her next move would be.

But even as she lay there, trying to come up with a plan, her mind kept returning to Lira’s offer. A part of her wanted to accept it, to stay here and heal. But another part, the part that had seen too much betrayal, too much loss, didn’t trust it.

Would they still welcome her if they knew who she really was? What she had done?

Y/n sighed, turning onto her side as the fire crackled softly beside her. She wasn’t sure what her next step would be, but for now, all she could do was rest.

She closed her eyes, forcing herself to take a deep breath. The pain was still there—deep and unyielding—but for the first time in a long while, Y/n allowed herself to hope that maybe, just maybe, she could find some kind of solace here.

Even if it was only temporary.

In the days that followed, Y/n grew stronger. Lira visited her often, bringing food and checking on her injuries, but never pressing too much. The village’s quiet kindness was unsettling at first, but slowly, Y/n began to let herself relax, just a little.

She spent most of her time in bed, staring out the window at the bustling village below. Children ran through the streets, and neighbors helped one another with chores and daily tasks. It was a world so far removed from the one she had known that it almost felt like a dream.

And yet, despite everything, Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that she didn’t belong here.

Each time she looked out that window, she was reminded of what she had lost, of the bond she had ignored for too long. The thought of Rhysand, out there somewhere, filled her with both longing and anger. She didn’t know if she’d ever see him again, but the silence between them weighed heavily on her.

Still, for now, all she could do was wait. Healing, Lira had said. Y/n wasn’t sure if that was possible, but maybe, just maybe, she could try.

Weeks turned into months.

What Y/n had initially believed would be a short stay to recover gradually became something more. She healed, both in body and in spirit, under the quiet care of Lira and the village’s close-knit community. Slowly, the bruises on her ribs faded, the aches in her muscles eased, and her strength returned.

At first, Y/n had kept to herself, only interacting with Lira when necessary. But as time passed, she began to open up, if only slightly. Lira’s patience had been remarkable, never pushing, always offering a hand when Y/n needed it. The woman’s kindness was a balm to wounds Y/n hadn’t realized still bled.

As she regained her strength, she was introduced to more of the villagers. There was Tamir, a kind-hearted farmer who often brought her fresh produce, and Ayla, a weaver who sat with Y/n by the fire on particularly cold evenings, sharing stories about her family and life in the village. They accepted Y/n without question, never asking too much, never prying into her past.

For the first time in years, Y/n found herself in a place that felt almost like home.

It wasn’t easy, of course. The memories of Rhysand still haunted her in quiet moments—his smile, his laughter, the bond she had felt snap into place and left unacknowledged. But in time, those memories dulled, becoming less sharp, less painful.

She had spent so long thinking about him, about what could have been. But now, as the months slipped by, she began to accept the truth. Rhysand had made his choice, and it hadn’t been her. Feyre was his love. And Y/n… she was learning to be alright with that.

It wasn’t that the pain disappeared—it would always be there, in the corners of her heart—but it no longer consumed her. She found herself laughing with the villagers, working alongside them, and even joining in the village’s small celebrations. She was happy, or at least as close to happiness as she’d felt in a long time.

There were nights when the weight of her past pressed down on her, but those moments grew fewer and farther between. The village, with its simple, peaceful life, had given her space to breathe, to heal.

Lira, especially, had become a close friend. They spent many evenings talking, sometimes about nothing at all, and other times about everything. Y/n found herself confiding in Lira, telling her small pieces of her past—the loss, the heartbreak, the weight of being forgotten. Lira never judged, only listened, offering comfort in the form of quiet understanding.

Y/n no longer felt the crushing loneliness that had driven her to that cliffside. She wasn’t sure what the future held for her, but for now, she was content to stay in this village, to continue healing, and to figure out who she was without the shadow of Rhysand hanging over her.

She still didn’t know what would come next, but for the first time in a long while, she wasn’t running from the uncertainty.

~~~~~~~~

Velaris — One year, three months, fifteen days, six hours, twenty-two minutes, and forty-five seconds since Y/n disappeared.

Rhysand had counted every second. Every agonizing, suffocating second since he had realized she was gone. He stood on the balcony of the River House, staring out over the Sidra, his eyes dark with the weight of his obsession. A full year, and he was no closer to finding her.

He had sent his forces, his shadows, his spies, to every corner of Prythian and beyond. The High Lords had been contacted—every last one of them, including Thesan, the High Lord of the Dawn Court, where Y/n had once called home. His meetings with Thesan had been civil, yet tense.

“She hasn’t returned,” Thesan had said in one of their many conversations, his voice steady but laced with concern. “If she were here, I would have told you, Rhys.”

But that hadn’t stopped Rhysand from ordering Azriel to watch the borders of the Dawn Court, to scour its lands for any sign of her. He had sent out scouts across Prythian—Illyrian patrols sweeping the mountains, Velaris soldiers keeping their eyes open in the cities, and spies dispatched to the human lands. Nothing.

Nothing for over a year. And it was driving him mad.

Rhysand hadn’t rested in months, not truly. His nights were spent pouring over maps, tracing routes, re-reading reports. He had memorized every possible lead, every whispered rumor of a lone female seen wandering the wilderness. But none of them had led to her.

“Maybe she doesn’t want to be found,” Cassian had said one night, his voice gentle but firm, as he sat with Rhysand in the war room.

Rhysand had glared at him, his jaw clenched, his hands tightening into fists. “That’s not an option. She’s my—” He had stopped himself before finishing that sentence. She wasn’t his mate, not officially. The bond possibly had never snapped for her, but for Rhys, it might as well have. His heart knew it, even if the Cauldron had not sealed the bond. She was his.

Cassian had only sighed, shaking his head. “Rhys, I’m worried about you. We all are.”

And they were. Amren had pulled him aside more than once, telling him to stop his frantic searching, to focus on the things he could control. But she didn’t understand. None of them did. Y/n had been his anchor in ways he hadn’t even realized until she was gone.

Azriel had been his silent shadow through all of it. The spymaster had spent countless nights by his side, searching with him, strategizing, offering the quiet kind of support that only Azriel could. They didn’t need words. Rhys knew Azriel understood what it felt like to long for someone you couldn’t have.

But there were moments—moments when the weight of his failure pressed down on him so heavily that he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He had taken to disappearing from the River House, vanishing into the forests outside Velaris, retracing the steps to where he had last seen her.

And then, there was the cliff. Rhys still remembers how when he smelled the faintest remnants of her scent, right there, right at the edge of the cliff, his chest flared with panic as he frantically searched for her but found no trace. Given how faint the scent was, Rhys knew that she wasn’t here recently. But did she kill herself? Did she end up throwing herself off this cliff? Even the mere thought of that made his gut twist, his hands shake. No. She couldn’t have died. No body, no proof. But…..

He stood there, letting the cold wind of the mountains blow past him. The silence that had followed her disappearance.

“Rhys, you need to stop this,” Mor had told him after he’d returned from one such trip, disheveled and exhausted. “You’re tearing yourself apart.”

He had only shaken his head. “I can’t, Mor. I have to find her. I need to.”

Mor had looked at him with sadness in her eyes. “What if she doesn’t want to be found?”

It was the same question Cassian had asked, and Rhys had no answer for it. What if Y/n didn’t want to be found? What if she had left because she wanted to stay hidden from him?

But he refused to believe it. He couldn’t believe it. There had to be another reason—something he hadn’t uncovered yet.

And so, Rhysand kept searching. He kept sending his forces out, kept interrogating every lead, every sighting, every whisper of a female matching her description. He visited the forests, the places they had once been together, hoping for some sign, some shred of her presence.

But there was nothing.

Every day that passed without her only deepened his despair. He had lost weight, his face drawn with exhaustion, his eyes dull with sleepless nights.

But how could he let go of Y/n? How could he forget her, when every part of him screamed that she was out there, somewhere, waiting for him?

His conversations with the inner circle had grown colder, more strained. They were concerned, but they didn’t understand. Not really. How could they, when none of them had lost someone the way he had lost Y/n?

Rhysand stared out over Velaris, the city lights reflecting off the river below. One year, three months, fifteen days, six hours, twenty-seven minutes, and thirty-one seconds.

And still, she was gone.

~~~~~~~~~

Y/n sat on a wooden bench outside the small cottage, her eyes watching the children play in the distance. The crisp evening air brushed against her skin, a reminder of how peaceful life had become in the village. Her heart, though, still felt heavy with memories of another life—one she had tried to leave behind.

The soft shuffle of feet approached, and Y/n turned to see Elder Miriam, one of the village’s wisest, sitting down beside her. The old woman’s face was lined with age, her eyes sharp but kind. She had been the one to welcome Y/n when she first arrived, offering a place to stay and a quiet understanding.

“You’ve been here for some time now,” Miriam began, her voice gentle but firm. “Longer than most who come seeking refuge.”

Y/n nodded, her gaze dropping to her hands. “I didn’t expect to stay this long.”

“And yet, here you are,” Miriam continued, her hands resting on her lap. “There’s peace in this village, but I see it hasn’t reached your heart yet.”

Y/n swallowed, feeling the truth of the words settle inside her. “I’m… trying.”

Miriam studied her, the silence between them filled with the soft sounds of the village. “You’ve been through much. That much is clear. But what are you still holding onto, child?”

Y/n hesitated, unsure how to voice the conflict inside her. “There are people I left behind,” she finally said. “A life I thought I could escape from. But it follows me, no matter how far I run.”

Miriam nodded, her expression thoughtful. “The past has a way of lingering. It’s not something you can outrun. Healing doesn’t mean forgetting, Y/n. It means learning to live with what’s happened, not burying it.”

Y/n bit her lip, fighting back the emotions that threatened to surface. “I thought if I stayed here long enough, I could… rebuild myself. Become someone new.”

“And have you?” Miriam asked, her tone still gentle.

“I don’t know,” Y/n whispered. “Some days, it feels like I’m better. I’m learning to be happy again. But then, there are days where… I feel like I’m right back where I started.”

Miriam placed a hand on Y/n’s shoulder, her touch warm and comforting. “You’ve come far, more than you realize. But you must ask yourself—what is it you’re truly afraid of? Is it the life you left behind, or is it facing the feelings you’ve kept locked away?”

Y/n looked away, the truth painful to admit. “I’m afraid of going back,” she said quietly. “Afraid of what it would mean to confront everything I left behind.”

Miriam nodded again, her eyes full of understanding. “The village has been a place of healing for you, and it’s given you time. But time, Y/n, doesn’t erase the things we carry. It only gives us space to understand them. You cannot live in fear of what’s behind you. It will find its way to the surface, one way or another.”

Y/n felt the weight of the words settle in her chest. For the first time in a long while, she realized how much she had been avoiding—not just Rhysand, but the truth of her own feelings.

“You’re stronger than you think,” Miriam said softly. “You’ve survived, you’ve healed. But true peace will only come when you allow yourself to face what’s still left unresolved.”

Y/n took a deep breath, the knot in her chest loosening just a little. “I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“No one ever is,” Miriam replied with a small smile. “But readiness isn’t the same as willingness. And you, child, have always been willing to face whatever comes. I’ve seen it in you since the day you arrived.”

Y/n glanced at Miriam, the warmth in the elder’s words easing some of the fear that had gripped her for so long. Maybe she wasn’t ready to confront everything waiting for her outside the village, but maybe that wasn’t the point. Maybe all she needed was the courage to try.

“Thank you,” Y/n said quietly, her voice steadier now.

Miriam smiled, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Take your time, but don’t wait too long. The world won’t wait forever, and neither will you.”

With that, the elder rose from the bench, leaving Y/n alone with her thoughts, the peaceful hum of the village life surrounding her. For the first time in months, Y/n felt the pull of something beyond this quiet haven—something she had tried to ignore, but that was always there, waiting.

Maybe it was time to stop running.

A week had passed since Y/n had left the village. The cool morning air nipped at her skin as she stood at the edge of the forest, the place that had been her refuge for over a year. The memory of her time there was fresh—both a blessing and a burden—but she had made her peace with it. She had healed, not just physically, but in the deeper places that had been broken for so long.

Her heart was lighter now, no longer weighed down by the constant ache of loss. She was ready to move on, to return to the Dawn Court and begin her new life. A part of her would always belong to the village, to the people she had come to love during her stay, but it was time to face the world again.

The day she left had been filled with quiet goodbyes, but the most difficult one had been with Lira. They had shared a bond—a deep understanding that went beyond words.

“You’ll come visit us, right?” Lira’s voice had been soft, but there was a seriousness in her eyes. She stood in front of Y/n, her hands gripping hers tightly.

Y/n smiled, a bittersweet warmth in her chest. “I promise,” she said. “I’ll come back when I can. This place will always be special to me.”

Lira’s lips curved into a smile, though her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “Don’t forget us. And don’t forget yourself, either. You’ve grown so much, Y/n. Don’t let that go.”

Y/n shook her head, her voice thick. “I won’t.”

Another villager, an elder Y/n had come to cherish, patted her on the back. “You’ll always have a home here,” he said warmly. “No matter where you go.”

She nodded, grateful beyond words. “Thank you. All of you.”

They stood in a quiet circle, the weight of the farewell settling in the cool air around them. The children she had watched over waved from behind the elder, their faces glowing with sadness and hope.

“Take care of yourself,” Lira said softly, pulling Y/n into a tight embrace. “You deserve to be happy.”

Y/n held her close, taking in the familiar scent of the village—the woods, the earth, and the faint traces of fire. “I’ll try.”

With one last lingering glance, Y/n turned toward the path that led out of the village, the weight of their love and friendship carrying her forward. She didn’t look back. She couldn’t. Not this time.

Now, she stood at the gates of the Dawn Court, her heart thudding in her chest. The sprawling palace beyond the gates shimmered under the morning light, and the familiar sight tugged at her—both comforting and foreign after so much time away.

She was different now, she knew that. The woman who had once been so broken, so consumed by heartache, no longer existed. In her place stood someone stronger—someone who had faced the darkest parts of herself and come out on the other side.

Y/n stepped forward, her boots crunching softly against the gravel path. A new life awaited her here. She had accepted that Rhysand was not hers, and with that acceptance came freedom—freedom to create something new, something that was hers alone.

As she approached the entrance, she took a deep breath, steadying herself. This was home, after all. And no matter how far she had run, she was always meant to return.

The guards at the gate gave her surprised looks, but they bowed respectfully, recognizing her. They knew her face, even if they couldn’t comprehend the transformation she had undergone in her time away.

Home. It sounded strange, but as she stepped through the gates and into the Dawn Court’s embrace, she realized how true it was.

She had come full circle.

With each step, the memories of her old life resurfaced, but they didn’t crush her as they once had. Instead, they reminded her of the strength she had gained, the scars she had earned, and the peace she had finally found.

This was a new beginning, and Y/n was ready for whatever came next.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was another miserable day.

He had counted every single second of her absence, the guilt festering in his chest like a poison he couldn’t escape. No matter how much time passed, the ache didn’t ease. The weight of what he had done—or rather, what he hadn’t done—crushed him.

He had searched everywhere, sent emissaries to the furthest reaches of Prythian and beyond. He’d begged, bribed, and even threatened other courts for information. Thesan had been his most trusted ally in the search, offering resources and keeping an eye out. Rhysand had sent his Inner Circle across borders to find her, but it had all led to nothing. Y/n was gone, and the only thing he had left was his regret.

He hadn’t been there for her when she needed him most. Not during Amarantha’s reign. Not when she had withered under his very nose, and certainly not when she left. His thoughts always returned to those last months. The months he had spent prioritizing Feyre’s safety and neglecting Y/n’s slow unraveling. He had failed her.

He was sitting at his desk, head in his hands, feeling the familiar hollow ache settle deep in his bones, when the door to his study opened.

Azriel stepped in, his shadows swirling around him like an ever-present cloak of darkness. The spymaster’s face was unreadable, but Rhysand knew him well enough to see the urgency in his posture.

“Rhys,” Azriel said, his voice calm, but there was something behind it. Something that made Rhysand sit up straight, a flicker of hope—a feeling he hadn’t allowed himself in months—stirring in his chest.

“What is it?” Rhysand asked, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Hope had become a dangerous thing for him, always leading to disappointment.

Azriel paused, letting the weight of the moment sink in. “Thesan contacted me. His guards… they’ve seen her.”

Rhysand’s heart stopped. For a long, agonizing second, he couldn’t breathe. “Seen… her?” he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Azriel nodded. “Y/n. She’s back at the Dawn Court. She returned a week ago. Thesan’s guards have been keeping an eye on her from a distance, but she’s home. Alive.”

Rhysand felt the floor tilt beneath him. She was back. After all this time, after every failed attempt to find her, every sleepless night spent tormented by guilt, Y/n had returned. The relief that flooded him was overwhelming, but it was swiftly followed by a wave of doubt so strong it made him dizzy.

“I should… I should go to her,” Rhysand said, standing abruptly. His mind raced, his heart pounding in his chest. He had to see her, had to know if she was okay. But then he paused, his hand falling away from the desk. His thoughts crashed into one another, the doubt settling in.

Would she want to see him?

“Wait,” Rhysand murmured, his voice barely audible. “Should I even go?” He turned to Azriel, his brows furrowing in confusion. “I… I wasn’t there for her, Az. Not when she needed me most. What if she doesn’t want to see me? What if she’s better off without me?”

Azriel’s dark eyes flickered with something like exasperation, but it was laced with sympathy. “Rhys, are you serious right now?”

Rhysand dragged a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of his guilt crushing him again. “I ignored her. After Amarantha, after Feyre… I neglected her. The last months she was with us, I wasn’t there for her. What if she’s moved on? What if she’s better now without me?”

Azriel stepped closer, his shadows swirling around his shoulders. “You’ve been searching for her for over a year. You’ve nearly destroyed yourself trying to find her. And now that she’s back, you’re doubting whether to go to her?”

Rhysand clenched his fists, his jaw tight. “I hurt her, Az. I let her slip away. What if she hates me for it?”

Azriel let out a breath, his eyes softening. “Then you go to her and you tell her that. You tell her how much she means to you, and you beg for her forgiveness if that’s what it takes.” His voice lowered, more gentle than Rhysand had ever heard it. “You’ve been waiting for this moment, Rhys. Don’t let your guilt stop you from fixing what was broken.”

Rhysand stared at his brother, the weight of his words sinking in. He had been waiting—praying—for this moment, for the chance to make things right. But now that it was here, all he could feel was fear. Fear that Y/n wouldn’t forgive him, that the damage he had caused was too great to repair.

“I will kneel if I have to,” Rhysand said quietly, the words heavy with desperation. “I’ll beg her to forgive me, to let me back into her life.”

Azriel’s lips curved into the barest hint of a smile. “Then go. Don’t waste any more time.”

Rhysand nodded, though the fear still gnawed at him. But beneath that fear, a flicker of hope remained. He would see Y/n again. He would kneel, beg, do whatever it took to fix the mistakes of the past.

And maybe—just maybe—he could find a way back to her.

Rhysand stood in silence for a moment, letting the realization sink in. He wasn’t sure what he would find when he saw Y/n, or if she would even want to speak to him. But there was no turning back now.

With a deep breath, he turned to Azriel. “I’m going to Dawn,” he said, his voice steady, though his heart trembled. “I have to see her.”

Azriel nodded once. “Good luck, Rhys.”

Rhysand didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. He simply disappeared, winnowing into the wind, his heart pounding as he made his way to the one person who mattered most.

~~~~~~~~

Y/n sat at the small table in her home, the afternoon light filtering through the curtains. The room was modest but comfortable, much different than it had been a year ago. Before she left, she had been barely getting by, working tirelessly just to make ends meet. She had spent her days repairing small items, doing odd jobs, always tired, always worn down. Back then, the work had been a necessity—a way to survive, not something she took pride in.

Now, it was different.

Y/n’s fingers moved over the smooth wood of the small jewelry box she had just crafted. She had taken up woodworking after returning from the village, and while it wasn’t glamorous, she found peace in the craft. People in the Dawn Court had taken notice of her work, and word had spread. Slowly but surely, she started receiving more commissions, her skills improving with every piece she made.

She wasn’t rich—not by a long shot—but she was comfortable. She didn’t have to worry as much about her next meal or paying for firewood. Her house, which had once felt so empty and cold, now felt like a home again. The work wasn’t just about money anymore. It was about creating something with her own hands—something that others appreciated.

Y/n leaned back, wiping the sawdust from her hands, and looked around her small space. It felt like she had finally found a balance. She was content. It wasn’t the life she had imagined for herself all those years ago, but it was a good life. She was healing, slowly but surely, and for the first time in a long time, she felt hopeful about the future.

There were moments when her mind drifted to the past—when memories of Rhysand surfaced, and the pain of what could have been tugged at her. But it didn’t consume her anymore. She had made peace with it, in her own way, and she knew she had to keep moving forward. This was her life now, and she was determined to make it her own.

Y/n wiped her brow, the scent of fresh wood filling the air as she placed the finished box onto the shelf beside a few others she had completed earlier that week. A soft smile tugged at her lips. It was a simple life—one she hadn’t expected to love—but there was a calmness in it that soothed her in ways she hadn’t realized she needed.

Her hands were no longer idle, no longer weighed down by the burden of survival. Now, when she worked, it was with purpose, and each completed piece felt like a small victory—a testament to her growth, her healing. The dark days when she could barely muster the energy to get out of bed felt distant now, like a different life entirely.

She stepped back from her workbench, glancing around her small home. It was far from luxurious, but it was hers. She had made it feel like home again after being away for so long. She had become part of the local community again, and though life wasn’t easy, it was manageable—and even enjoyable at times.

Y/n sighed, letting the moment settle over her. She was content. She hadn’t thought it possible after everything she had been through, but somehow, she had found peace.

She walked to the window, looking out at the familiar streets. The weight of the past year didn’t feel as heavy as it used to. Dawn had changed for her. Before, it was a place where she had simply existed—barely making it through each day. Now, it felt like a fresh start, a place where she could rebuild herself without the shadows of her past constantly looming over her.

Her thoughts drifted to the village she had left behind just a week ago. It had been hard to say goodbye, but she knew it was time. They had become like a family to her, and the promise to visit would be kept. But she needed to come home—to her own space, her own life.

The memory of her farewell lingered, the promises exchanged that they would stay in touch, that they wouldn’t forget each other. She smiled at the thought. She wouldn’t forget them either. They had been the ones who had helped her when she didn’t know how to help herself, and that was something she would always carry with her.

But here, now, she was finally ready to move forward. Ready to build something new for herself.

Y/n was walking through the busy streets of the Dawn, enjoying the calm, steady pace of life here. She had just visited the market, her basket filled with items for her latest craft project. The sun was warm on her face, and for the first time in a long while, she felt truly at peace.

As she turned the corner, two figures in armor approached her. They wore the unmistakable insignia of the Dawn Court—palace soldiers. Their faces were unreadable, and as they came closer, she felt an uneasy flutter in her stomach.

“Y/n,” one of them said, his voice firm yet not unkind. “You are required at the palace.”

Her heart skipped a beat, confusion surging through her. “The palace? Why? Did I do something wrong?”

The second soldier didn’t meet her gaze, only repeating the first soldier’s words. “We need to escort you to the High Lord. Please come with us.”

Fear and confusion knotted in her chest, but the soldiers gave her no further explanation. They began to walk, clearly expecting her to follow. Y/n’s mind raced with questions. Why would High Lord Thesan summon her? What had she done? She couldn’t think of any reason she’d be needed at the palace.

As they passed through the grand gates and into the opulent halls, her nerves only grew. The palace was more beautiful than she remembered, but she was too anxious to appreciate the elegance of her surroundings. The guards led her through winding corridors until they reached a large, ornate door.

One of the soldiers knocked, and the door was opened from within. They motioned for her to step inside.

She hesitated for only a moment before walking in.

The room was grand, with tall windows casting golden light over the finely furnished space. But it wasn’t the luxury of the room that caught her off guard.

It was the two men standing inside.

One was High Lord Thesan, smiling warmly, his demeanor calm and welcoming. The other was Rhysand.

Her breath caught in her throat. Rhysand? Her legs nearly gave out beneath her at the sight of him standing there, looking tense, his usual smug expression replaced with something far more serious. His violet eyes found hers the moment she entered the room, and she felt every nerve in her body light up with an old, painful familiarity.

Thesan stepped forward first, his kind smile not wavering. “Y/n,” he greeted, his voice smooth. “I apologize for the sudden summons. I imagine this is not what you were expecting today.”

She blinked, still too shocked to speak, her gaze flickering from Thesan to Rhysand and back again.

The High Lord chuckled softly, clearly sensing her confusion. “You are not in trouble, I assure you,” Thesan said gently. “I wanted to make sure you had a chance to… speak with Rhysand. I believe there are things that need to be said.” He glanced between them before adding, “I’ll leave you two to talk.”

Y/n’s throat tightened as Thesan gave her one last smile and exited the room, closing the door behind him.

And then it was just her and Rhysand.

The silence was suffocating. Rhysand stood a few feet away, his gaze locked on her, an uncharacteristic tension lining his features. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and filled with a vulnerability she hadn’t expected.

“Y/n… I’m sorry.”

She didn’t respond at first, still trying to piece together how this moment had come to pass. “Sorry for what?” she finally asked, her voice sharper than she intended.

“For everything,” Rhysand said, stepping closer, though he still maintained a respectful distance. “For how I treated you before… for abandoning you. I spent the past year searching for you, desperate to make things right. I—” He paused, swallowing hard. “I should have told you sooner. You are my mate.”

Her chest tightened, a sharp laugh escaping her lips before she could stop it. “I know.”

Rhys’s eyes widened in surprise. “You knew? Since when?”

“Since long before you disappeared into Feyre’s shadow,” she replied bitterly. The anger, the hurt, it all came rushing back in full force. “Why didn’t I tell you? Why should I have? Would it have made a difference when you were so focused on her that I may as well have been invisible?”

Rhys flinched at her words, guilt etched deeply into his face. “It would have mattered,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You mattered.”

“Then why didn’t you act like it?” Y/n’s voice trembled with emotion, her hands clenching at her sides. “Why was I nothing more than a tool to you when Feyre came along? I watched you—watched as you ignored me, as you barely looked at me. And now, after a year of running and hiding, now you come to apologize? You expect me to just forgive you because you finally decided I was worth something?”

Rhysand’s eyes were filled with sorrow and regret, his normally proud and arrogant demeanor shattered. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. I came to beg for it, if that’s what it takes. I was wrong, Y/n, in so many ways. But you have to know, you are my mate, and I will do anything to make this right. I will kneel, I will grovel, I will—”

But she shook her head, cutting him off. “It’s too late, Rhysand. You’ve already made your choice.”

Rhys took another step toward her, desperation in his eyes. “Please, Y/n. I never stopped caring. I was a fool. But we can start again, we—”

“No,” she interrupted, her voice firm, though it cracked with emotion. “You don’t get to come back into my life now and demand forgiveness. I’ve rebuilt myself. I’ve moved on. You should have done the same.”

And with that, she turned on her heel and walked out, leaving Rhysand standing alone, the weight of his mistakes heavy in the air.

But Rhysand didn’t stop. Determined to win her back, he threw himself into a relentless pursuit of her forgiveness. Every day, he tried to reach her in some way, even if she wouldn’t let him in.

He sent her gifts—delicate, handcrafted items from the finest artisans in the Dawn Court, things that would have brought a smile to her face just months ago. Each time, he watched from a distance as she took them from her doorstep, only to leave them discarded by the door, untouched and unacknowledged.

Rhysand poured his heart into letters, filled with apologies and promises, penned with the kind of vulnerability he had rarely shown anyone before. He would slip them under her door, hoping that maybe one would catch her attention. But each time he checked, the letters remained sealed, never to be opened, reminders of his failure piling up like stones in his chest.

He would linger in the shadows, just outside her home, drawn by the pull of her presence. He watched her move about her day—working on her crafts, laughing with neighbors, sharing stories. His heart ached at how vibrant she seemed, yet he felt like a ghost haunting the edges of her life. Each smile she shared with others was a dagger, a reminder of what he had lost.

In moments of bravery, he approached the marketplace, hoping for a chance encounter. He would linger near the stalls, pretending to browse as she passed by, but she never looked his way. It was as if he were invisible, a figment of her past she refused to acknowledge.

He even tried to connect with the villagers, asking about her and expressing his desire to help her, but they were loyal to her. They would only nod politely, never divulging her whereabouts or responding to his inquiries. They could sense the pain behind his facade, and their protectiveness toward Y/n was fierce.

Days turned into weeks, and Rhysand’s resolve only strengthened. He would find small ways to make his presence known. Sometimes, he would send the occasional flower with a note saying, “I miss you.” Other times, he enlisted Azrael to check in on her, to gauge how she was doing. Each report from his friend was a bittersweet reminder of how far he had fallen from her good graces.

Yet despite all his efforts, Y/n remained steadfastly indifferent. She had rebuilt her life without him, and the fortress she had built around her heart was impenetrable. No amount of gifts or letters could pierce it.

As the seasons changed, Rhysand continued his quiet vigil, each day filled with longing and regret, praying that one day, she would see him not as a shadow of her past but as a man who desperately wanted to be part of her future.

Y/n was kneeling in her garden, the vibrant flowers blooming around her, but her heart felt anything but bright. She was lost in thought, trying to focus on her plants when she suddenly sensed a presence behind her. Her instincts kicked in, and she turned quickly, catching sight of a tall figure with dark wings.

“Who are you?” she demanded, standing defensively, her heart racing.

“Y/n,” he replied, his voice calm yet intense. “My name is Azriel, I’m a friend of Rhysand’s. I’ve been… watching over you.”

“Watching over me?” she echoed, confusion and anger flaring up inside her. “Why? What do you want?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” Azriel said, stepping forward slightly but keeping his distance, as if respecting her space. “About Rhysand. He’s been… suffering since you left.”

Y/n crossed her arms, her expression hardening. “I don’t want to talk about him. He made his choice.”

“He didn’t know what he was doing, Y/n,” Azriel pressed, his tone earnest. “He’s been lost without you. The gifts he sent, the letters—those were all from a place of regret. He didn’t realize how much you meant to him until it was too late.”

“Regret?” she scoffed, shaking her head. “It’s easy to feel regret when you’ve moved on with someone else, isn’t it? I was nothing more than a passing thought to him while he chased after Feyre.”

Azriel frowned, sensing the pain in her words. “I can’t deny that Rhysand made mistakes, but he has changed. He’s been searching for you for a year. He’s been—”

“Searching?” she interrupted, her voice rising. “How much of a fool do you think I am to believe that? I don’t want to be another one of his burdens or a way to soothe his guilt.”

Azriel took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I understand your anger, but you deserve to know the truth. You deserve to hear him out.”

Y/n’s heart raced with conflicting emotions. She was furious with Rhysand, yet there was a flicker of curiosity buried deep inside her. “And what makes you think I want to hear anything from him? What if he’s just going to hurt me again?”

Azriel stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Because you deserve closure. You deserve to understand why he acted the way he did. If you don’t give him a chance, you might carry this pain forever. You may think you’ve moved on, but deep down, you’re still holding onto that hurt.”

Y/n’s expression softened slightly, but she quickly masked it with defiance. “It’s easier to keep it all buried, Azriel. I don’t need him in my life. I’ve built something here, a life I’m proud of.”

“I see that,” he said, nodding. “But are you truly happy? Or is there still a part of you that wonders what could have been?”

She hesitated, the truth clawing at her heart. “Maybe I could talk to him again,” she admitted reluctantly, the words spilling out before she could stop herself. “But it doesn’t mean I want to forgive him. It doesn’t mean I’m ready to open that door again.”

“Just consider it,” Azriel urged gently. “You don’t have to decide everything right now. But Rhysand is here, waiting for you. He won’t stop until he gets the chance to explain himself. And when you’re ready, you can choose how to respond.”

Y/n turned back to her flowers, avoiding Azriel’s gaze, trying to gather her thoughts. “And what if I don’t want to respond? What if I just want to forget?”

“Then you’ll have that choice too,” Azriel said, his tone calm and understanding. “But know that you can’t run from your feelings forever. If you want to heal, you have to face them.”

After a long silence, Y/n sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. “I’ll think about it,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

As Azriel nodded, she could feel the weight of his presence, a reminder that her past was still very much alive, no matter how hard she tried to bury it. She knew that eventually, she would have to confront the truth about Rhysand—and about herself.

The sky was painted in soft shades of dusk, the sun casting its final golden rays over the pristine lake. The place Rhysand had chosen was breathtaking—a secluded spot nestled between the hills, where the water sparkled like diamonds under the fading light. Wildflowers swayed gently in the breeze, their vibrant colors contrasting with the deep green of the surrounding trees. It was peaceful, a place that felt almost sacred in its stillness.

Y/n approached the shore, her footsteps slow and hesitant. She had agreed to meet him, but every step felt heavier than the last, like she was walking toward something she wasn’t ready to face. Her heart thudded in her chest, her mind filled with doubts, fears, and anger she hadn’t yet let go of.

And then she saw him.

Rhysand stood by the edge of the lake, his back to her, his wings tucked tightly against him. The sight of him stirred something deep within her—a pang of old pain, old longing, and something new, something she couldn’t yet name. He seemed so out of place here, in this tranquil setting, with the weight of his own emotions heavy on his shoulders.

He turned as she neared, his violet eyes locking onto hers, a myriad of emotions swirling in their depths—regret, hope, desperation. He took a step toward her, but stopped himself, as if afraid that one wrong move might send her running.

“Y/n,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for coming.”

She didn’t respond immediately, crossing her arms over her chest, her posture guarded. “You wanted to talk. So, talk.”

He swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to the ground for a moment before he looked back at her. “I don’t even know where to begin. I… I made so many mistakes.”

“You can say that again,” she muttered, her voice colder than she had intended.

He nodded, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I didn’t realize… how much I hurt you. I didn’t realize how blind I had been to everything you were going through.”

“I was right there, Rhys,” she said, her voice rising with frustration. “Right in front of you, and you didn’t see me. Not once. Not until it was too late.”

“I know,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I know, and I hate myself for it. I was so consumed by everything happening with Amarantha, with Feyre… I thought I was doing what was best, that I was protecting you by keeping you at a distance.”

Y/n scoffed, shaking her head. “Protecting me? By ignoring me? By treating me like I didn’t exist?”

Rhysand flinched at her words, guilt flooding his features. “I thought… I thought that if I distanced myself, if I kept you away, you wouldn’t be hurt. That you’d be safer if you weren’t involved in everything that was happening. But I see now that I was wrong. So, so wrong.”

She bit her lip, the anger still simmering just beneath the surface, but there was something else there too—a crack in her armor, however small. “Why didn’t you just tell me? Why didn’t you talk to me?”

He ran a hand through his hair, his expression pained. “I was a coward. I didn’t know how to face you, how to admit that I had failed you. And by the time I realized… it felt like I had already lost you.”

“You had,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You did.”

Rhysand stepped closer, his eyes pleading. “But I don’t want to lose you forever, Y/n. I can’t. I came here to beg for your forgiveness, to do whatever it takes to make things right. I know I don’t deserve it. I know I’ve done nothing but hurt you, but I’m asking—no, I’m begging you to give me a chance to prove that I’ve changed.”

Y/n’s breath hitched, her heart torn between the lingering hurt and the raw sincerity in his voice. “And what if I can’t forgive you? What if it’s too late for that?”

He stared at her for a long moment, his expression solemn. “Then I’ll accept that. I’ll accept whatever decision you make. But please, just give me the chance to try. Let me show you that I’m not the same man who pushed you away. Let me prove that I can be the person you deserve.”

Y/n’s eyes filled with unshed tears, her emotions threatening to spill over. “You hurt me, Rhys. You made me feel like I was nothing.”

“I know,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “And I will regret that for the rest of my life. But you are not nothing. You never were. You are everything.”

She turned away, her hands trembling as she tried to hold herself together. “This… this is all too much. I don’t know if I can trust you again.”

Rhysand closed the distance between them, his voice soft but urgent. “I won’t rush you. I won’t push you. But if there’s even a part of you that thinks we could find a way forward, I’ll wait. I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

She wiped at her eyes, refusing to let the tears fall. “And what about the mate bond? You didn’t even acknowledge it, didn’t tell me—”

“I didn’t know,” he said quickly, his eyes wide with desperation. “I didn’t know until you were gone, until it was too late. I felt it after you left, like a piece of my soul was ripped away.”

Y/n stared at him, her heart pounding. “I knew,” she admitted quietly. “I’ve known for a while.”

His eyes widened, shock and confusion written on his face. “You knew? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t think you’d care,” she said, her voice wavering. “Because you were so focused on Feyre, on everything else. I didn’t want to be another burden for you to carry.”

Rhysand shook his head, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “You were never a burden, Y/n. Never. I was just too blind to see what was right in front of me. And I hate myself for that.”

Y/n turned back to him, her gaze softening ever so slightly. “I’m not ready to accept the bond yet, Rhys. I’m not ready to just… let everything go.”

He nodded, his expression pained but understanding. “I understand. I’ll wait. I’ll wait for as long as it takes, and I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust back.”

She swallowed hard, the weight of his words sinking in. “Maybe… maybe if we spent more time together, if you showed me that you’ve really changed… maybe then I could consider it.”

Rhysand’s eyes lit up with a glimmer of hope, and he nodded eagerly. “Anything. I’ll do anything you ask.”

Y/n sighed, the heaviness in her chest lifting just slightly. “This doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you, Rhys. I’m not there yet. But… I’m willing to see if you can prove yourself.”

He stepped closer, his voice low and filled with determination. “I will. I swear I will.”

She nodded slowly, a small, tentative step toward the possibility of healing. “We’ll see.”

As Y/n spoke those final words, a calm silence settled between them. The tension that had been weighing the air down began to ease, and the light from the setting sun cast a warm glow over the lake, reflecting in soft ripples on the water. Rhysand, still standing close but not too close, let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his shoulders finally relaxing.

He gave her a tentative smile, one that was full of relief and gratitude. “Thank you… for giving me this chance,” he murmured softly. “It means more than you know.”

Y/n glanced at him, her expression unreadable for a moment before a small smile ghosted her lips. “Don’t thank me yet. You’ve got a lot of proving to do, Rhys.”

His eyes sparkled with a mixture of affection and determination, and for the first time in a long time, a bit of the old, charming Rhys peeked through. “I plan to, darling. You’ll see.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was no malice behind it, just a faint glimmer of amusement. “Don’t get cocky. This isn’t a victory.”

“Not yet,” he agreed, a teasing lilt in his voice. “But it’s a start.”

They both stood there for a while longer, just watching the lake, the breeze gentle against their skin. Y/n didn’t pull away when Rhysand took a small step closer, their arms nearly brushing. The proximity felt different now—less suffocating, more… reassuring. As if, for the first time in ages, she wasn’t standing completely alone.

Rhysand didn’t make any bold moves; he didn’t reach out to touch her, respecting the distance she still held. But there was a warmth in the silence, an unspoken understanding that they were no longer quite as far apart as before.

Finally, after a few moments of peaceful quiet, Y/n turned to leave, the conversation having drained her emotionally. She needed time—time to process everything he’d said, everything she’d felt.

As she walked past him, Rhysand called after her gently, “Can I at least walk you back?”

Y/n paused, glancing over her shoulder. For a heartbeat, she considered saying no, but then, with a soft sigh, she nodded. “Alright. But just this once.”

Rhysand smiled—genuinely, this time—and caught up to her, falling into step beside her as they began to walk down the path back toward the city. They didn’t speak much, the silence between them comfortable now, and Y/n found herself not minding his presence the way she once had.

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Taglist: @willowpains @theravenphoenix26 @mother-above @bookwormysblog @strawberriesandstories @12idk1234

[maythearo]

" Welcome back to Night Raven College's 'Ghostly Gossip'! The school's unofficial main online source for the latest news, articles and trending topics circulating around campus! "

" I'd usually describe this as a super exclusive entry, but who am I kidding? If you've spent more than five minutes in this school, you've already seen his shadows lurking around in the background at some point (I mean, he's like. super tall.) "

Navigation:

R. Rosehearts ▪︎ T. Clover ▪︎ C. Diamond ▪︎ A. Trappola ▪︎ D. Spade ▪︎ L. Kingscholar ▪︎ R. Bucchi ▪︎ J. Howl ▪︎ A. Ashengrotto ▪︎ J. Leech ▪︎ F. Leech ▪︎ K. Al Asim ▪︎ J. Viper ▪︎ V. Schoenheit ▪︎ R. Hunt ▪︎ E. Felmier ▪︎ I. Shroud ▪︎ O. Shroud ▪︎ M. Draconia ▪︎ L. Vanrouge ▪︎ S. Zigvolt ▪︎ Silver

Design notes:

Man I've been postponing this for so long, I don't even remember half of what my process with this one was like. But I concluded that if I don't post this now, the loss of my mental notes will only get worse with time, so here you go, putting this out there once and for all lol

For a general picture I wanted Malleus' vibes to be more fairy tale-like. (He ended up reminding me a bit of Faybelle too, in a way.) The colors of those iridescent black feathers go well with him, I think. And did someone mention Howl's moving castle? Yeah, Howl's monster form.

I got this one ask before, reccomending the Cockatrice monster for Malleus, and searching a bit about it, is apparently also often taken as a synonymous with the basilisk? So like, Wyvern meets Basilisk, but it is also giving fae, idk. Listen, the idea inside my head is like, if you're asked to imagine a mythical creature that roams around a dark forest, outside the castle of a cursed princess, it's him. He's the creature.

And I'll admit I have not been catching up with the Diasomnia's chapter :( so give me 50 years at least so I can make up some more in-depth lore for his MH au counterpart (or maybe I'll just read a resume out of the wiki). Malleus enjoyers are free to drop headcanons onto him, you guys' knowledge of his character are always so astronomical it never fails to impress me /gen

[beensbaee]

𝒏𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒚𝒂𝒎 𝒔𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆 ˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘ

summary; neteyam has always avoided y/n due to the fact that he cannot trust himself around her - but what happens when he is tasked to teach her?

pairing; neteyam!teacher x y/n

word count; 3.5k

HER BEWITCHING BOY

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

It was no surprise Y/n and Lo'ak were such good friends. Both of them had the same wild nature that always got them into trouble - and a distinctive laughter that caught everyone's attention.

Unlike Lo'ak, she was the tiniest bit more responsible. She was also more immersed in the clan too - often spending her free time playing with the younger children and asking the elders all sorts of questions - even finding new paths in the forest with Kiri to travel on.

Her relationship with little Tuktirey was just as sweet. She'd often find all sorts of ways to have the girl giggling and smiling, whether it was by making faces or telling her stories so silly that Tuk couldn't even contain her amusement.

There was just one Sully kid she wasn't close with. Neteyam was a year older than her - and he'd always kept his distance from Y/n.

She was not blind. She'd see how he'd be sitting comfortably with his family until Y/n would come. Even Jake had seen the way the boy's smile would falter as he would suddenly begin looking anywhere that wasn't towards her - giving her a curt greeting before excusing himself and leaving.

She'd try not to look hurt - but everyone saw how her ears fell in embarrassment at his behavior towards her. Lo'ak would brush it off, telling her to ignore him. Kiri herself would be confused but would always choose not to say anything as she took it upon herself to make the girl feel more welcomed and forget about her eldest brother's reaction.

Neteyam always seemed conflicted when his parents would bring up his apparent dislike for her - sometimes claiming he didn't notice he was treating her differently, and other times remaining silent when questioned why he treated her like she was something to avoid completely.

The truth was that he himself did not know either.

Well he knew, but refused to accept the fact.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Y/n was shuddering, Lo'ak howling with laughter as Kiri rubbed her arm soothingly

"It is ok, Y/n. Not everyone is perfect at aiming." Kiri said as a way to comfort the girl, discreetly kicking Lo'ak's leg and giving him a look that quickly stopped his laughter

"Eywa, I could have killed him." She groaned, hiding her face with her hands as Kiri looked at her with a frown

"But you didn't!" Lo'ak chirped up as Y/n sighed, slinging off the bow that had been on her back and holding the wood firmly in her hands

"As if he didn't already hate me enough." She mumbled, Lo'ak finally turning towards her with concern

"He doesn't hate you, Y/n. He's just... dumb?" He tried, but Y/n only sent him a sad smile

"He's a hundred times smarter than you!" She laughed, Lo'ak rolled his eyes as Kiri joined in with her own grin

"Come on, it is time to eat." Kiri said as the three teens made their way to the central part of the village where the clan gathered to eat meals together

After fighting over who sat next to whom, the lineup consisted of Kiri, Y/n, and Lo'ak in a row - everyone satisfied with the seating arrangement as they conversed amongst themselves. Jake and Neytiri sat a few rows down from them - and Y/n's eyes caught the familiar muscled back of Neteyam Sully as he sat down next to his parents and grandmother.

She winced, heart burning with shame as she looked at his bandaged leg. The same leg she had accidentally hit when wielding a bow.

Jake had insisted she'd be fine hours earlier when she refused to hunt with the weapon, handing her the bow and arrow and giving her a simple target  to practice her aim with while the hunting party was taking a break.

She'd usually hunted with a simple knife, expertly too. She'd excelled at many things - but her skills with a bow was not one of them

She'd fired it, her arm shaking with fear as her hand slipped. The arrow didn't stay true to its path at all and flew completely out of her sight. Moments after firing, they heard a sharp yell - Jake only turned towards her in disbelief with his mouth hanging open. Never had she seen her clan leader in such denial.

Her embarrassment was incomparable as she and Jake ran in the direction of the yell, only to find Neteyam kneeling over in pain as he held the gash on his leg with his hands, blood running over his fingers as he applied pressure to the wound.

Thank the Great Mother the arrow merely grazed him. Y/n had been brought to near tears as she apologized profusely for her actions. Neteyam merely bowed his head, mumbling that he was fine and clearly embarrassed himself by the situation as Jake quickly patched up the boy with his on the go medical kit.

He got up the second he was patched, insisting he was fine and leaving as Y/n finally gathered the courage to approach him

"Neteyam, Neteyam wait!" She pleaded, her voice desperate as he visibly froze in his path, slowly turning around to meet her eyes

"I know we are not friends - but please understand, I had no intention of hurting you. I am so sorry." She said, her voice was strained as she spoke, eyes pained as she struggled to convey her true guilt.

He remained silent, looking at her so intensely that she felt her back straightening subconsciously. He parted his lips as if to say something, mouth moving as he struggled to find the words before clamping it shut and shaking his head

"It is fine, Y/n. I am fine, please do not worry about me." He finally said, his voice foreign and eyes hard before he turned away from her, his muscles tense as he walked away.

She wanted to cry in that moment, her eyes stinging with shame as she turned away, unable to understand the clear aversion the Sully boy had for her.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Neteyam ate his food silently, occasionally cracking a smile at his fathers ridiculous jokes.

He couldn't stop himself from looking back to Lo'ak and Kiri, but his eyes didn't stay on them. They moved to the girl between the two.

The familiar feeling of his heart thundering in his chest returned as he looked away once again, closing his eyes while he struggled to keep himself from marching over to the trio and pulling her away.

He hated Y/n. He hated her so much sometimes.

He hated how he was reminded of her everywhere he turned. He hated how she'd braid flowers into her hair and how her clothes were always so out of place from the familiar brown and greens the clan wore - her pink and purple accessories only pulling his eyes towards her even more.

He hated how he couldn't control his heart around her. Never had he felt so out of control. He hated how easily she'd be able to have him do anything if she just asked, her voice a melody he'd listen to from afar - something similar to a drug. Something he desired so much but refused to have - the fear of addiction holding him back.

He'd promised himself it was just a small crush when he'd first seen her vibrant smile. 

He told himself anyone would have fallen in love with the way she so selflessly loved. 

He had to force himself to look away from her when she was doing simple tasks - eating, weaving baskets - even just praying - he'd find her eyes closed and content as her face was composed with eternal peace he wished to find.

He'd told himself to stay away from her completely because she wasn't someone he could trust himself to be around. The feeling of simply not understanding what he felt was what scared him so much. But her beauty - one that had his knees so weak he had to look away just to stand without faltering, was what terrified him the most.

Her beauty wasn't something unknown - she was the most enchanting na'vi in the clan through his eyes. Her delicate cheeks and round eyes with fluttering lashes had him in awe at times. But, as he watched another boy approach her as she ate - her curious eyes meeting him as he quickly struck up a conversation with the trio had him blinking rapidly.

He was seemingly talking to all three, but Neteyam did not miss the way the mystery boy's eyes would trail back to Y/n to seemingly try and catch a glimpse of her.

He clenched his jaw, looking down at the food in front of him with furrowed brows. Suddenly, he wasn't so hungry anymore.

He couldn't even be mad. He had no say over who spoke to her - and this wasn't the first time.

He'd seen numerous boys approach her before, and every time, he'd be watching the interaction from afar. Fuming with a clenched jaw as he struggled to kill the jealousy that was running through him like a storm.

The only thing that prevented him from intervening was Y/n's gently but sad smile as she rejected Every. Single. One. Nothing was more satisfying than watching her shake her head - indicating a polite no from her that had each boy walking away with slumped shoulders.

As if Y/n had felt his burning gaze, she lifted her head to look directly at him.

Her eyes - they had him swallowing the lump in his throat as he looked right back at her, refusing to break eye contact. 

She blinked rapidly as she stared back, her gaze struggling to hold the intensity in his eyes as she finally looked away.

He left dinner right after it ended, returning to his hammock with a pounding headache as he struggled to sort his thoughts.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

"Neteyam."

He slowly opened his eyes to find his mother standing over him, her eyes concerned as Neteyam quickly sat up with his brows pulled together in concern

"Is something wrong, Mother?" He asked quickly, his voice tired as she frowned

"Yes. You went to bed so early. Are you feeling ok?" She asked gently as Neteyam automatically nodded his head

"Mother - I am fine." He said, but his voice wasn't convincing enough to her. Just as she was about to say something, Jake walked towards them with hurried steps once he heard their voices

"You awake, boy?" He asked, moving to stand next to Neytiri as Neteyam nodded his head, his annoyance present in his sigh

"Why is everyone asking if I am ok?" He questioned as Jake and Neytiri looked at each other - their eyes obviously having some sort of an exchange he was not apart of

"You seem distracted lately." Was what Jake settled on as Neteyam remained silent

Quickly, Jake's eyes lit up as if he thought of something. He turned to Neytiri with a glint in his eyes that had her look at him expectedly

"Now, I need a favor from you. Think you can do it?" Jake asked, his voice firm as Neteyam nodded his head

"Of course. What do you need?" He answered dutifully, his mind still hazy from being awoken from his slumber

"I need you to teach Y/n how to wield a bow and fire an arrow."

Jake didn't miss the way Neteyam nearly flinched at his words, his eyes widening the slightest bit as well. But, he remained still and silent and gave them no further insight as to how he felt by the request 

Neytiri watched him carefully as Neteyam finally nodded his head, his knuckles pale from gripping the sides of his hammock so hard as his lips were set in a firm line.

"Yes sir."

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Y/n shuffled her feet as she watched Neteyam secure the last few necessary things they needed for the next few hours they were spending in the forest together inside of his bag.

His hands moved so gracefully - Y/n couldn't help but watch him as he placed one last arrow on his back, turning to her and gesturing his head towards the exit of the tent and towards the forest.

"Come on Y/n." He said, turning his back towards her as he led her into the forest, a clear destination in his mind as she recognized a few trees with markings on them with the path he was leading her on - clearly targets previous na'vi had used to practice with their bows and arrows on.

She felt her cheeks heat up as she realized the fact that these targets were probably made for children to practice their skills on.

Hunting with a bow and arrow wasn't required - and Y/n knew from the start she wasn't very good with one, so she didn't bother ever picking up one. But now, it seemed she'd have to learn how to master it, one way or another.

She turned to Neteyam, her voice quieter than usual as she spoke her true thoughts

"Do you think I am capable of even learning how to use a bow this late? Especially after..." She asked, her embarrassment evident in her voice as he turned to her with the same intense gaze she was used to seeing in his eyes whenever he looked at her.

"Well, of course you are. Mistakes happen." He said, silence following after his words as he saw the hesitation in her eyes - maybe it was his words, or maybe it was the fact that they'd never been alone together - and that he'd never really even spoken this much to her.

Finally, he smiled. It was such a small movement on his face, but she'd seen how his eyes had softened as the smallest of smile lines appeared. It was a change.

"Come here."

She obliged without hesitation, standing next to him only seconds later as he handed her his bow and an arrow. She grabbed his bow with careful hands, her fingers running over the intricately beautiful engravings in the wood as she admired it.

He was watching her, his gaze unwavering as he saw the small twitch of her lips as they formed a smile. She didn't notice his gaze - too focused on the bow, and he took the opportunity to look at her up close.

He'd never allowed himself to be this close to her - after the last time there had been such little distance between them her intoxicating scent had been the thing to keep him up for hours. But now, he closed his eyes and could only inhale it - his tail flicking as his senses recognized the sweet smell

"Hold it like this." He instructed

He didn't even recognize his own voice - it came out much rougher than he intended it to, but he forced himself to focus on the way her hands held his bow - searching for any mistakes with the way she was positioned that might be why she was having trouble firing an arrow.

His fingers mistakingly brushed over hers - and he felt himself letting out a breath to steady himself and calm his heart - it seemed like Y/n had also been thrown off by the small touch between them as she quickly blinked while staring at their hands.

Neteyam finally realized her mistake as he noticed the way her fingers went straight over the wood she was holding when they should have curved over the slanted piece.

He didn't trust himself to say anything without his voice giving away exactly how he felt, so he wordlessly moved her fingers - cupping his hand over hers and moving it into position and nodding his head

She met his eyes once he gave her the cue to fire her arrow, and she unleashed it - the strong string snapping it forward with impeccable speed as it hit the target right in its center

She looked at the target in disbelief as she let out a victory war cry one would use in battle - startling Neteyam instantly as she clapped her hands in pure excitement

"I got it! Neteyam I got it!" She exclaimed, her eyes shining with so much appreciation that she leaped towards the boy and tackled him with a hug

He only yelped as he fell backward and onto the grass, her body on top of his as she hugged him tightly - laughter spilling out of her as he hesitantly wrapped his arms around her - before tightening them and reciprocating her ecstatic embrace

They stayed like this for a few moments - both of them holding each other so close that every single previous cold and awkward encounter of the two of them before faded away - the two so lost in the moment as they laughed

Finally, she pulled away - her eyes still crinkled with joy as Neteyam felt himself quieting once again as he stared at her. But this time, it was not with the usual emotionless stare - but with a gaze so open and with no facade, she too quieted as she felt the atmosphere change.

Finally he looked away, unable to look at Y/n any longer as he began speaking

"I am sorry for how I have treated you in the past. I... it was shameful." He finally spoke, words Y/n had been wanting to hear for so long - she didn't even believe he'd said them

She knew he had one of the biggest hearts ever - the snippets she'd catch of him with his siblings had confirmed that. She knew there was a reason he typically avoided her - and she had a very good feeling she was about to find out what it was.

"It is ok." She said, the sweetest smile on her face as Neteyam felt his heart crack at the sight

All the times he'd been so awful, so cold and distant - she'd forgiven. Because she had a heart of gold - something Neteyam felt he didn't deserve. Something he thought he wasn't worthy of.

"Y/n..." He struggled to finish the sentence as he stared at her lips, parted and simply begging for him - the urge to press his lips against hers was overwhelming

"Y/n, I do not deserve someone like you. I could not look you in the eyes - or speak to you all this time because of how I felt. I feel so much for you - it is like my heart is set on fire when I look at you sevin -"

The word had slipped from his lips - but she'd heard it.

Sevin. Pretty

She felt her heart flutter as she heard his words. He thought she was pretty.

He smiled at her reaction before shaking his head and reaching for her hands hesitantly. She reached forward slowly, lacing their fingers together with sparkling eyes as he cracked a grin

He knew she felt something for him too - because of the numerous boys that had pursued her, she never held their hands the way she was holding his - nor did she stare at them with eyes so round and filled with such a tender kindness as she did with him.

She leaned forward, gently brushing her lips against his to see his reaction. But he merely pulled her back in - his mouth enveloping hers as he moved his arms around her.

He kissed away all her confusion that night, spending the hours meant for her training with her hands in his hair and his face pressed against hers.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

six full moons later ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

It was like a weight was lifted off his shoulders.

The tense Neteyam who'd always been frowning was replaced by one who couldn't stop smiling. He was the one who'd be more eager for Y/n to come over then his own siblings, the one who made Lo'ak gag dramatically whenever he and Y/n did anything even remotely romantic - the one who looked forward to seeing her the most.

In the beginning he wouldn't even stand next to her - and now, he refused to be separated from her.

They'd sneak out at night to gaze at the stars - a favorite pastime of theirs now as Y/n would lay her head on his chest and tell Neteyam anything and everything that came to her mind. Neteyam would do the same - saying things that would have Y/n giggling as she nuzzled her nose against his skin

"Tomorrow, you and I will have a date night." Neteyam said proudly, Y/n tilting her head up and towards with a smile 

"What is a date night?" She asked, her hands mindlessly playing with his fingers as Neteyam grinned

"My parents have date nights all the time - they go out to have their own private time, away from everyone else. You and I could pick all sorts of fruits to snack on - climb all sorts of trees with no one to tell us what to do." He said, voice gentle with his lips set into a soft smile

She smiled, gently moving her hand to his face as she traced over his freckles that glowed in the moonlight. He looked radiant in the day - but at night, he was bewitching. There was a certain thing about him and the night that comforted her more than anything else in the world

"Well then, we should have date night every night." She insisted as he laughed, the sound a melody to her ears as she merely smiled against him - the stars shining above the two for every date night they would spend together.

[aemondsbabe]

Love is Patient and Kind

summary: hand holding & dry humping || you aren't ready to take the next step with your monk, luckily for you he has the patience of a saint

pairing: osferth x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, dry humping, very fluffy, osferth being cute and understanding and ruining other men for everyone, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 2.5k

a/n: welcome to day one of 12 days of smuff!! hope y'all enjoy this one! Can be read as part 1 to Wind’s Howling or as a stand alone!

12 days of smuff masterlist

gif creds to @thecruel!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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“Are you sure you do not wish for me to carry that, my lady?” Osferth asks for the millionth time, nodding his head at the basket, laden with various herbs and medicinal plants, in the crook of your elbow. 

For the millionth time, you merely shake your head with a crooked smile. “I wish only for your company, monk,” you glance over at him as the two of you walk through the forest, admiring the way the early afternoon sun casts a golden halo through his hair, “I told you as much when we left camp this morning.”

Osferth merely nods in reply; your man is one of few words. A soft blush blooms across your cheeks at the thought – your man, but it was as good as true. Osferth was the first man in Uhtred’s company you felt comfortable with when you joined their cause all those months ago when they’d stopped in your small hamlet in need of a healer; you’d been by their side ever since.

In the months since, your relationship with the monk had steadily grown from hushed whispers around the campfire in the dead of night, when sleep eluded the both of you, to heated glances, delicate touches, and stolen kisses. More recently, Osferth had all but insisted on accompanying you nearly everywhere you went, which is how he’d come to follow you as you walked through the forest to gather the variety of curative plants you need.

A content sigh passes your lips as you tilt your head up, taking in the way the tips of the trees stretch up toward the blue sky. “I had almost forgotten what the sun looked like,” you joke, your heart squeezing proudly in your chest as the monk chuckles next to you, “But hopefully this summer will be dryer than the last.”

“I have prayed many times for sun,” Osferth says with a nod, blue eyes soft as he gazes at you, “Unfortunately, the Lord seems to ignore those requests.” The corner of his lips tilts up as he huffs a laugh at his own joke. 

Suddenly, a branch snaps loudly not too far off the winding path the two of you have been strolling down. Osferth acts quickly, ever vigilant, and takes your hand to usher you behind him as he draws his sword. Your breath quickens as you peek around his shoulder, pressing yourself tightly against his back as your hand grips his; you’d been assured by Uhtred’s scouts that the forest surrounding camp was perfectly safe, but in these times danger seemed to creep up from every corner. 

A buck appears a little ways down the path, followed by two more deer, each sparing you and the monk only a quick glance before scampering into the forest once more. The two of you let out a collective sigh of relief as Osferth sheaths his sword with a shy smile. 

“Perhaps now would be a good time for a break, my lady?” He suggests with a soft smile, “We’ve been walking since morning.”

“I think we’ve earned a break,” you nod, gazing up at him through your lashes, the two of you still close enough that you could make out soft flecks of green in his blue eyes, “I believe I saw a clearing a few paces back.” 

“Lead the way.” Osferth nods, keeping in pace with you as you backtrack to where you’d spotted a lush clearing through the trees only moments ago. As you walk, nearly shoulder to shoulder, the monk silently takes your hand again, his rough fingers threading together with yours. Neither of you speaks, though you can nearly feel his pleased smile from your periphery, twin to your own. 

After only a few moments, you veer off the path as the two of you step into a sizable glade, the trees giving way to a field of tall grass. Your hands stay clasped as you walk together, basket still tucked in your elbow as you lift the skirts of your linen gown to prevent it from snagging on the high blades of grass; your chest tightens once more when you glance down and notice how Osferth takes great care to step over any flowers in his path, the ones that sprinkle the meadow with pops of yellow and lilac. 

Soon, you come to a spot where the ground seems to be drier, however the monk grasps your forearm to stop you as he slips the thin, grey wool cloak off his shoulders and drapes it over the ground.

“Osferth,” you gently admonish, though a smile does creep across your lips at the sweet gesture, “I am perfectly capable of sitting on the ground.”

“A lady should not have to,” he says simply, nodding to the cloak, “Please.”

With a final glance, and a good-natured roll of your eyes, you comply, setting your basket down before relaxing atop his robe. After making sure you’re settled, the monk joins you, setting his sword to the side as he sits and leans back on his hands, scanning the treeline. 

“It’s so lovely here…” you smile as you glance around, a soft breeze causing the grass to rustle around you.

Osferth sits up beside you, a relaxed smile on his lips as he takes your hand and pulls you closer to him. “I find the company to be far lovelier,” he whispers before capturing your lips in a sweet kiss, never taking more than you seem keen to give. The two of you easily fall into a lazy rhythm, your lips moving together as he guides you to lie against his chest. You lay your hand against his chest, right over his heart, thankful that he’s forgone his usual leather armor and chainmail today as you feel his warmth through the soft tunic he wears. 

He sighs against your lips, his fingers gently weaving into the locks of hair at the nape of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine and making you cling to him all the more tightly, his other hand wrapping around your waist before settling in the small of your back, holding you to him. 

After a few moments, the two of you part to catch your breath and he studies you with a warm gaze as you relax against his chest. “We are meant to be stopping in a town tonight.” Osferth says simply. 

“That we are.” 

“We could get a room together,” he breathes, making you gasp as he trails kisses across your jaw, “Just the two of us.” 

Immediately, you tense up and untangle yourself from him, sitting up with a sigh. He quickly sits up next to you and you can feel him eyeing you with concern, though you dare not meet his gaze. 

“My lady, I didn't mean to offend you…” He says hesitantly, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

“You didn’t offend me, sweet monk,” you turn to him with a bashful smile, “I am simply…I don’t know if i’m ready.” 

“Ready for what?” His head tilts to the side as he eyes you curiously. 

You chuckle nervously, unsure of how to broach the topic. “Osferth, I have heard enough tales of your…prowess around the campfire to know that my skills do not match your own.” 

The crease between his brows only deepens as he continues staring at you, blue eyes flitting between your own. “My prowess?” 

“With more…intimate relations…” You say slowly, glancing away from him. 

“Oh,” he says softly before his eyes widen comically, a dark blush cascading over his fair cheeks, “Oh!”

You can’t help but laugh softly at his dumbstruck expression, your lips quirking up into a soft smile despite your nerves. 

The hand on your shoulder tightens as he leans closer to you. “My love, you need not fret over it,” he whispers, blue eyes conveying a deep seriousness, “We can get a room at the tavern and not do anything at all.”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion – you’ve always been told to expect a very different answer from men. “What?”

He huffs out a soft laugh and pulls you back down to lie on the grass with him once more. “I mean what I say,” he says softly, one hand stroking your hair, “We can get a room and just kiss or cuddle or merely talk, I don’t care.” You look up from where you’ve had your cheek laying against his chest, the emotion in his eyes shocking you for a second, “I just want to be with you.” He whispers finally.

You can feel yourself blushing as he speaks, the apples of your cheeks heating up deliciously under his kind gaze. A girlish giggle erupts from your lips before you can stop it, which only makes him laugh too as you bury your head against his chest and bite your lip, breathing in his familiar scent of leather and campfire smoke. 

After a moment, the two of you calm down and you finally look back up at him, “Kissing sounds good…” you nearly whisper, suddenly shy as he surveys your face.

Osferth merely chuckles, low in his throat, and rolls the two of you over. Normally, this is when you’d be pushing any other man off of you with some mumbled excuse, but you can’t help but feel safe with the sandy haired monk, taking him at his word that whatever you were willing to give would be enough.

“We have time, and plenty of herbs already,” he rasps, his voice thick with an arousal you’d only heard on a very scant few occasions when the two of you had shared frantic kisses in the night once the rest of the men were asleep, “Why wait until tonight?”

A small giggle escapes you once again as the blush on your cheeks extends down, almost all the way to your chest, but you nod nonetheless, your arms coming up to snake around his neck as you pull him down to you. A small whimpery breath escapes you when his lips touch yours yet again, and he responds in kind with a low groan, the sound rumbling from his chest. His lips are soft against your own as the two of you move leisurely; once again, he lets you set the pace, only licking at your bottom lip after you do the same to him first. 

Your thighs spread as your kiss deepens and you moan again when he slots himself between your thighs, the linen of your dress hiked up just above your knees. A shiver rolls through you at the feel of him on top of you, so warm and weighty.

“Is this alright?” He breathes, navy eyes blinking between each of yours as he checks for any signs of discomfort from you, visibly relaxing when he finds none.

Wordlessly, you nod, bobbing your head eagerly as you pull him back down. His hands roam carefully over your body as your lips and tongues move together, breathlessly licking into each other's mouths. You whine into his mouth when you feel a hardness pressing against your center, a pleased hum emanating from your chest at the realization that you’ve affected him this much with only a kiss; the pride in your heart twists into something different, something deeper as a knot forms and begins tightening in your belly.

“My lady –” Osferth mumbles as he starts to pull away from you, an apologetic smile on his handsome face.

“Don’t!” You say quickly, tugging him back to you and surprising even yourself as you wrap your legs around his trim waist, “Please, I – It’s good.” You confirm breathlessly, eyebrows quirked up with need as you look up at him through your lashes. 

“Yeah?” He asks, unable to wipe the pleased grin off his face as he settles back on top of you, careful to keep most of his weight off of you as he presses against your center again.

You nod, already threading your fingers into the short hair at the back of his head to draw his lips back to yours. A breathy, high-pitched moan leaves you at the feel of his clothed length pressing against you, the ties at the front of his breeches only adding to the pleasurable sensations that zap through you as he starts rolling his hips against your own.

His pace quickens as he breaks away from you, panting against your skin as he traces wet kisses down your jaw to your neck. Your head lolls to the side as you whimper and whine underneath him, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you feel his hard cock twitch against you, even through the fabric of your smallclothes.

You’re quick to match his pace, using the leverage of your legs wrapped around his middle to ruck yourself up into each thrust, earning grunts of pleasure from the monk. 

“My lady,” he groans, one hand fisting into your hair as the other trails down to run appreciatively over the bare skin of your thigh, “Y-You are bewitching.” He gasps, mouthing at your neck, his cock no doubt leaking into the leather of his trousers. 

Your only reply is a choked out moan of his name as your back arches underneath him, the knot in your belly winding tighter and tighter as the ties of his breeches rub over your pearl deliciously, your smallclothes no doubt soaked. 

Blessedly, Osferth seems to understand the desperation in your voice and movements and pulls back to look at you, both of his hands quickly grasping yours, fingers threading together as he holds them to the earth beside your head.

 “Sweet girl,” he grunts as he gazes down at you, a rosy blush cascading beautifully over his high cheekbones, “P-Peak, my lady, please,” he pants as his fingers tighten against your own, “I’m, God be good, I’m right behind you.”

You nod frantically, your only sound a choked out sob as you tense underneath him when his hips rut perfectly against yours, the knots of his pants catching against your sensitive bud in just the right way to tip you over the edge. You twitch underneath him, white knuckling his hands when you feel your center clenching helplessly around nothing as pleasure buzzes through you. 

Osferth reaches his end mere seconds after you, humping against you two or three more times before tensing, his eyes squeezing shut as his own high washes over him, cock spasming in his breeches as his spend leaks into the waiting fabric. 

“You’re beautiful,” you declare softly, the words tumbling from your lips as soon as you think of them.

The monk blushes somehow more heavily above you, though a soft smile graces his lips. With a soft sigh, he falls to his side, bringing you with him. Your cheek once again finds its home against his chest and you smile at the sound of his heart thumping wildly as he pulls you closely to him, one arm wrapping protectively around you as he tucks the other under his head, letting his eyes flutter shut.

“You flatter me, my lady,” he says lowly, a pleased rasp to his voice. “You are truly an angel,” he continues after a moment, “A beautiful, precious angel.”

You smile contentedly, his heart thudding steadily in your ear as you let your eyes drift shut, happy to stay in this still, safe bubble with your monk for as long as the outside world will allow.

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @alerisc

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[willowser]

ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴏɴ ᴀʟʟ ғᴏᴜʀs. werewolf kiri au.

you wake up under a mountain of furs.

light comes flickering from the hearth and, warm and welcoming as it is—you've no idea where you are.

you don't recognize the inside of the cabin; it's certainly not yours, nor is its layout that of any you’ve seen in the village. it's rather plain, with a singular window and table and chair and small fireplace, empty enough that you wonder how anyone could live comfortably with so little.

outside, the winter storm rages on, and there's a howl that cuts through the air that strikes bone-deep.

all at once your memories come back to you: dragged through town with bound hands and ankles, in only a thin night dress, screaming with all your might as the physician that delivered you into this world tied you to an old pine, along with the priest and the man that sold you blueberries in the spring.

people you knew and loved. had trusted.

the memories become hazy after a while, darkening with the night that crept in. you remember your body losing its feeling, but not its fear. you remember the violence of the storm, breaking trees and branches and uprooting the forest floor. you remember the horrible and hulking shape of something rising in the moonlight.

the door shoves open then, with enough force to send you scurrying back into the corner of the room. the blizzard tries to rush inside, but a man stands in its way, leaning back against the wood to keep the wind and snow out where it belongs. he's—big, as tall as the frame and just as wide, with thick hair that he's tied back, messy and low.

he's rosy in his cheeks and on the tip of his nose, as bright as the eyes that snap to you the moment you dare to breathe.

he doesn't say anything, at first. the bag of firewood he sets at his feet settles as he turns to you in interest, eyebrows raised. the clothes he's wearing look—old and worn, certainly not suitable for the storm roaring outside, with the holes and tears in the fabric. the boots he has on, however, seem heavy, have his steps echoing when he moves further into the room.

you pull your knees up to your chest and try to shrink away; beneath your thin dress, your skin has pebbled up, reminding you of just how vulnerable you still are.

your fear translates; the man stops on the other side of the little table, breathing in deeply before raising his hands up in what reads as surrender.

"hello," he finally says, and when you don't respond, he places a thick hand to his dark-haired chest and introduces himself as, "eijirou."

he nods emphatically and then repeats himself, as if to reinforce the name. you only grant him a small nod in return—and he smiles. it's wide, stretching across his face, and friendly, authentic enough that you question whether you're as damned as you thought, or perhaps saved.

how did you even get here? the question finally thaws out from the recesses of your brain and you take another look around the room as if the answer lies between the wood or nestled into the furs. this place looks too hand-crafted, you realize, all of it—and the man before you looks like he could move mountains, if he wanted to.

the chains that had bound you were iron-strong and didn't once budge in all your thrashing, before things went dark—but now you are inside by a well-maintained fire, warm and free, and all that remains of your ill fate are the indentions worn into your wrists.

he's still staring at you, the man. eijirou. he's not moved any closer, either, and when you meet his curious gaze, his lips twist and his eyes narrow. a thoughtful noise comes out of his mouth, like he's thinking of what to say or how to say it, and you're reminded that you don't recognize where you are, nor do you recognize him in the slightest.

big as he is, you don't think he could have carried you too far in a snowstorm such as the one still raging outside; are you still somewhere deep in the forest? in a cabin at the heart of the wood? saved by a man that somehow survives with so little out in the middle of nowhere?

"eijirou," you test the name on your lips and he perks up at the sound, attention snapping back to you instantly. you don't know if it's winter seeping through the floor, or if it's in the way that he watches you, that makes you shiver.

finally, he asks, "cold?" and when you nod, he slowly makes his way over to you, carefully, as if approaching a deer ready to run.

—and then he sheds his shirt with a quick shrug and holds it out to you.

you should want to look away, for decency sake, but you're—stunned by it, by him. there's a litany of scars that paint him in odd and worrisome places, but he stands tall and strong before you, unbothered by his own state. unbothered by the eyes that run over the expanse of his bare shoulders, the dark, thick trail of hair running down from his belly button, the ripples of muscle his loose shirt did well to hide.

you take it from him carefully and it's so warm, almost hot, that you press it to your face immediately to chase away the chatter of your jaw. the material itself, however ragged, is big enough to drape over your curled form like a blanket, and so you do just that. it carries the earthy smell of the woods, deeply woven into the fabric; pine and musk and something smoky.

with your cheek still pressed to his shirt, you look up to thank him, at last, but the words still in your throat at the minute changes of his face: still smiling, though sharper now, somehow, and his eyes are still wide with that keen, rapt interest—but the crimson to them has set like the sun and they've grown just as dark as the night outside.

[thealtoduck]

Headcanons for Children of minor Goddesses… (Part 2)

(Screwed over by Zeus Edition: Metis, Leto, Semele)

——

Metis (Oceanid/Titan Goddess of wisdom, wise counsel, deep thought and prudence)

If Metis was ever released from the inside of Zeus’s head and still thought having more kids seemed like a good idea I’d think her demigods would be something like this.

When they’re claimed a small blue figure of Metis appears over the demigods head, circling it before landing on their head, then disappearing in to thin air.

Their cabin would be pretty simple on the outside, with some standard decorations of Metis carved in to the walls.

The inside of their cabin is like 65% library, 20% desks, 10% comfort and 5% other stuff.

Their cabin has a small telephone booth, with a fountain and a set of golden drachmas on the inside. If the children of Metis ever need counsel from Metis or just wanna talk with their human parent.

They have a very natrual bond with children of Athena. Children of Athena get very giddy when showing children of Metis their new inventions, almost like a kid showing a parent their new toy.

In a similar vein they also get along well with children of Hephaestus, being a great source of advice for them and their inventions. Leo x Child of Metis!Reader, anyone? No?

I also feel they’d make good friends with children Hecate, no specific reason just vibes.

As for powers it’s quite simple:

They are incredibly intelligent wise and cunning, similar to Athena’s kids.

They have a good knowledge of magic and are good at making potions.

They know how to craft weapons and armour. They also craft simpler things that are still useful for quests like smoke bombs, grapplings hooks, etc…

They’re the ”go to cabin” when having an issue since their mom is the goddess of wise counsel, who better to ask?

Song I associate them with:

——

Leto (Titan Goddess of motherhood and demurity)

They’d probably be Leto’s first child in well over 2000 years.

Growing up they’d have two different babysitters to come guard them when their guardians were away, one blonde guy who’d play music and play with them, and one girl wearing a silver diadem, who’d take them on walks in a forest and introduce them to the wild animals.

When they’d be claimed both a sun and moon would appear over their head and the howling of a wolf and the crowing of a rooster would be heard in the distance.

A cabin would be constructed to look like the mix of a ancient greek palace and a inviting vacation home, it’d covered in Ivy, the rest of the outside would be very plain and simple.

On the inside there would be paintings of Leto’s travels while pregnant and the early years after Artemis and Apollo’s births.

It’d be considered one of the most welcoming and cozy cabins at camp.

Children of Leto would be known for their very sweet personality but also ferocious protectiveness of those they love. And especially protective of children as Leto is the protector of the young.

They’d be one of the only demigods that are actually loved by their godly siblings, Apollo and Artemis would adore them. (Even if they were a boy in Artemis’ case).

Same goes for the Apollo cabin, they’d act as a Child of Leto’s siblings, especially if they had no demigod siblings of their own and needed company.

The Hunters of Artemis would also have a certain respect for them (though maybe slightly less if they were a boy).

They have a bad relationship with reptiles because of Python and the Lycian peasants.

The powers they’re born with are:

High endurance.

Natrual talent for using a bow and arrow, it runs in the family.

Affinty for taking care of children.

They have the possibility to learn some light magic, not child Hecate or Circe levels but some smaller spells.

Wild animals are usually attracted to them (most likely a blessing from Artemis or her godly aura just kinda rubbed off on them).

Apollo usually blesses them with some sort of talent for the arts (painting, music, dancing).

They have good survival skills when out in the wild.

Song I associate with them:

——

Semele (Goddess of the bacchic frenzy)

Semele isn’t really the most motherly type but if a night of wild partying would end up leading to Semele getting pregnant with a demigod, she’d be happy welcoming them to the world.

Once they arrive at camp they wouldn’t even need to be claimed Dionysus would just know about them already.

Children of Semele along with possible children of Ariadne are some of the only demigods who’ve never had to stay in the Hermes cabin before claiming because Dionysus just sends them to his own cabin as he sees them as part of the family, even though they’re not his own.

Low-key Dionysus favourite siblings…

Dionysus’ cabin had to be soundproofed as a result of added demigods to the cabin.

Semele’s kids are party animals to the very core of their being.

They are known for their slighty brash and wild personality. They’re careless and free-spirited in a very delightful and refreshing way.

They can act refined and formal when they want to… they just never want to.

If you talk shit, they’ll knock your teeth out.

Children of Semele commonly get along well with Ares and Aphrodite’s cabins.

Though they probably clash with some (or most) of Athena’s kids.

They’re very helpful when planning and preparing a parties and events at Camp Half-Blood.

Their powers and traits are:

The can induce people with bacchic frenzy, pretty much making the target run around like headless chickens

They’re suprisingly strong, no explonation why, they just are…

They’re usually natrually good warriors but need to refine their technique as their fighting style is mostly based on brute force.

High endurance, especially for alcohol.

While they don’t have many more powers than that, Dionysus will always keep an eye on them and keep them safe even if they’re far away from him. It’s not uncommon a monster ends up strangled by grape vines after trying to attack a child of Semele.

(Side note: I personally just kinda imagine Semele looks like Festivia the Fun from Star vs The Forces of Evil, anyone else see the vision)

Song(s) I associate them with: (I’m sorry Semele’s kids got four but like they all just worked so well).

[cosmicdahlias]

Breeding You Under a Full Moon

a ford x reader fic

MINORS DNI

Your research partner has been acting bizarrely ever since he was bitten by a creature he caught. He’s taken off into the woods and when you find him he’s no longer the human you know.

warnings: shameless monsterfucking, lycanthropy, werewolf anatomy (knots), furry adjacent, blood, biting, breeding, impreg, pregnancy

with spooky month fast approaching on monday i thought i’d give y’all a monsterfucker fic! i’ve always been a fan of werewolves (and their knots owo), ya’ll furries and fellow monsterfuckers know what i’m talkin’ about. also i included some pregnancy fluff at the end because y’all have been asking for it and i really struggled to turn it into a full fic

“FORD! FORD!”

You called out for your research partner in the dark forest. Snow crunched under your boots as you shined your lantern at the ground, illuminating his footprints. A full moon hung brightly overhead.

Your partner had seemed strange ever since he was been bitten by one of the creatures he’d been studying. His teeth appeared sharper. His eyes turned a beautiful amber hue, but somehow oddly inhuman. You walked in on him tearing apart raw meat with his teeth. He would stare at you, animalistic and hungry.

Tonight you found him in his lab, tables and chairs overturned, papers strewn about the floor. You tried to ask him what was wrong but he took off, fleeing into the darkness of night. You chased after him. He had always been a little neurotic, but even this was out of the ordinary.

You called out to him again. “FORD!”

You caught movement of a figure in the light. You held up your lantern, squinting.

“Ford?”

He turned to you, he looked disheveled, his hair wild, shirt unbuttoned and torn.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” He panted.

“Ford, I was so worried. Why did you run off like that? What the hell is going on with you? You’ve been acting so weird ever since you got bit.”

You took a step forward, Ford recoiled, terror spreading across his face.

“Stay back, get out of here! Something’s happening to me and I don’t know what I’m capable of.”

“No, Ford, you look terrible. Let me help you. Come on, let’s get back inside and out of the cold before you-“

His breathing became ragged, he panted, his breath visible in the cold air.

“RUN!” He yelled, his sharp teeth bared, voice in an unnaturally deeper register.

He dropped on all fours, his clothes tearing at the seams. Shaggy fur the same color as his dark hair began to grow all over his body, covering him in a thick pelt. His mouth transformed into a long muzzle, teeth elongating into fangs as sharp as daggers. Long, razorlike claws grew in from his nails. Ears, unmistakably wolflike, sprouted from the top of his head. His muscles had doubled in size and he had grown at least two feet in height.

He stood and your eyes dropped immediately between his legs. His length had turned a deep crimson, frighteningly large and knotted at the base of his shaft.

He tilted his head toward the clear starry sky and let out a deafening howl. He turned his gaze to you, eyes full of the same animalistic hunger he had shown in the days prior.

Shameless excitement pulsed through you. You had read more than enough about werewolves, studied their anatomy. Knots had always fascinated you and you longed to know what it would feel like to be fucked by werewolf cock. You knew werewolves had an insatiable propensity to breed, and that sex with one was said to be life changing. An opportunity was staring at you right in the face and you weren’t about to pass it up. You approached him.

His ears pulled back and he gave a warning snarl. “Don’t.”

You continued coming closer, so close that you could smell him, his scent was different, a slight musk.

“Get back, it’s taking everything in me right now to not tear you apart.”

“Ford, I know what you want, I want it too.”

You set down your lantern and reached a hand down and stroked his knot, it’s heat incredibly welcoming in the cold.

He stared down at you, licking his lips. “Please, I won’t- I won’t be able to stop myself.”

“I don’t want you to.”

You took his muzzle in your free hand and kissed him, he struggled to pull away.

“Aren’t you terrified of me?”

“I’m not afraid, I like it rough.”

With your words he couldn’t take it anymore, he growled, pouncing on you and pinning you to the ground. He ripped your clothes to shreds with his claws, the remains acting as a makeshift blanket between you and the snow. He lowered his massive head between your thighs. You tangled your fingers in his fur.

He shoved his snout into your pussy and began lapping at your clit with his large, wet tongue. He gripped your thighs and you moaned as he dug his claws into the soft flesh, blood dripping into the snow.

He licked at you greedily, his senses were heightened and you tasted incredible.

“Fuck, you taste so sweet.”

You arched your back, bucking your hips against his tongue. Your breathing increased, orgasm building. He pulled back and you whined as he removed his maw from your clit, only for him to unfurl his tongue inside you, curling it on your g-spot, his hot breath against your pussy. You tightened around his tongue as you came undone on him. Your moans cutting through the silent forest.

Ford shifted himself to be on top of you.

He held your hips down as he angled his leaking cock at your entrance. He tried to be gentle but his werewolf instincts took over as he rammed himself inside you, but still taking care to keep his knot from entering, he knew it’d be too much for you to take. His girth stretched you wide, eliciting a moan, he took the opportunity to force his tongue down your open mouth.

He began to pump himself into you, panting, his tongue hanging from his maw. God, he felt incredible even if his cock was tearing you apart. You rolled your hips back on him. He gave out a growl.

“Fuck, I always liked you, but I had no idea you wanted me like this.”

The slick, wet sounds of him slipping in and out of you reverberated through the forest, punctuated by your moans and his animalistic noises. He bit your neck, making sure to not break the skin, he didn’t want to turn you.

“God ever since I was bitten fucking you was all I could think about. I wanted to claim you, make you mine and now that I have you-“ leaned down low and whispered in your ear “I’m gonna make you carry my pups.”

You tightened around him at his words. He was close, he placed a clawed hand to your throat and fucked into you aggressively. He was trying desperately to keep himself from knotting in you, but his instincts took over once again and he forced his knot deep inside you. You cried out, spasming around him, the mixture of pain and pleasure was so overwhelming that you came immediately. The sensation tipped him over the edge, he spilled his hot seed deep inside your pussy, impregnating you. He howled into the night.

He huffed, trying to catch his breath. “Now unfortunately I can’t pull out yet, it’ll just hurt you or me, we have to wait for the knot to go down.”

He sunk his weight into you, his soft fur was like a blanket. He was so warm, like a furnace, it was heaven in the bitter cold.

“You know, this is gonna happen every month, I’d be more than happy to help settle your breeding urges.”

“Sounds like a good deal to me.” He smirked.

You reached up and scratched behind his ear, he gave an approving whine, leaning his head into your touch.

“Fuck, now I see why dogs love this so much.”

You laughed. “Well, I always wanted my own dog.”

His lips curled into a smile. “I promise I’ll be your good boy.”

He had softened inside you, he slowly pulled out. You kissed his maw and he licked your cheek.

“Now let’s get you out of the elements before you catch a cold.”

He scooped you into his arms and made his way back to the cabin. He opened the door, paws padding on the hardwood and laid you down by the fire. He turned in circles on all fours a few times before lying down beside you, his chest pressed against your back. He delicately traced his claw over your curves, it made you shiver. You laid in silence for a while before he spoke.

“I think we both know it’s clear now that we have feelings for each other, and I was thinking, maybe we could go steady, be a real couple.”

You turned over to face him, taking his muzzle in your hands and kissing him.

“I’d love that.”

His tail wagged, thumping on the floor.

-

Weeks had gone by and you were plagued with nausea and abdominal cramps. You had your suspicions and tried to ignore it, but the symptoms persisted. You bit the bullet and bought a pregnancy test. You stood in the bathroom staring at the little plastic stick on the sink, waiting. Two lines appeared… shit.

The drive to Ford’s place felt like an eternity. You walked up to the cabin, let out a sigh and knocked on the door. Ford answered, wasting no time kissing you.

“Hey there, how’s my stardust doing?”

“Ford, we need to talk.”

He looked visibly nervous. “I- is everything okay?”

“I don’t know, you might wanna sit down for this.”

You made your way inside, he sat down on the couch.

“So what’s going on? You’ve got me really worried.”

You took a deep breath. “Ford, I’m pregnant.”

He was silent for a moment. “Y-you’re sure?”

“Positive as the test I took this morning.”

He stood up and pulled you into a tight embrace.

“Oh, stardust, that’s wonderful. Have you set up doctor’s appointments? We need to get you on prenatal vitamins. You should-“

You kissed him.

“Ford, you’re doing that thing where you get ahead of yourself again.”

He chuckled. “I guess I am.”

[millerstolemyheart]

Pairing: Joel Miller x M!Reader

Warnings: Broken ankle, pure smut, blowjob (reader receiving), anal, gay gay gay gay

A/N: There’s absolutely not enough gay Joel Miller fanfics out there, so I guess I’ll add my own to the mix? Note- I do this for fun, so I don’t proofread a lot. I just wanna add more filth to the world ✨

Summary: Reader gets injured on patrol with Joel, and Joel refuses to leave his side.

Closer

Snow crunches under your boots as you trudge through the forest, the frigid winter air stinging your cheeks and making each breath feel like pins and needles are going down your trachea. The bitter wind howls through the barren landscape, carrying with it a cold that cuts straight to the bone. You tighten the pitiful excuse for a scarf around your neck, the woolen fabric offering little protection against the relentless Wyoming chill. Each breath is a reminder of the harsh reality of your world. Without thinking about it, you glance ahead at Joel, who trudges forward with the kind of grim determination that has kept you both alive many times before.

The trees, bare and skeletal, reach towards the heavy gray sky with gnarled branches, their bark coated in a thin layer of frost. It seems as if the woods themselves are frozen in time, awaiting the thaw of spring to come. Unfortunately, you have several more months before warmer weather approaches. It had been a long winter already, and the food stores were beginning to dwindle. You were lucky Tommy’s patrol brought down a few elk last week, enough to keep spirits going for at least a little while longer. Still, you couldn’t help but worry about the months to come.

“Eyes open,” Joel grunts ahead of you, as if sensing your wandering mind. His voice is almost lost in the wind, but you’re familiar enough at this point to understand what he says, or grunts… He’s a man of little words, playing his cards close to his chest. You’d practically begged Maria to send someone, anyone else these morning patrols. The idea of spending hours alone with the most reclusive man in Jackson wasn’t something you longed for. Plus, Joel seemed rather disinterested at the idea of having an unfamiliar body to take care of. Nevertheless, here you were, four months later- still trudging through the snowy underbrush, eyes peeled for movement.

“You keep your eyes open,” you grumble under your breath, confident the howling wind will disguise your quip.

You could swear you hear a snort of laughter from the man ahead of you, but it’s hard to tell with the wind howling so obnoxiously in your ears. Still, the possibility causes the corner of your mouth to tug upwards into a smirk. It had been a game of yours for a while, trying to force a laugh out of Joel. You’d seen it happen before on rare occasions. A chuckle here, a smirk there. It was a strange thing to watch Joel’s permanently-furrowed brow smooth itself out, the lines at the corners of his eyes crinkling deeply, mouth upturned. It suited him.

Without thinking, you find your eyes studying Joel. The way the softly falling flecks of snow stick to his salt-and-pepper curls. The broad muscles of his shoulders sway in time with his steady pace. He moves confidently and quickly, no doubt just as ready to return home as you are. You’re about two miles out from the gates at this point, passing the river that welcomes you into familiar territory once more. A sigh of relief escapes you, tinged with the strangest feeling of disappointment. It’s not that you enjoy freezing your asscheeks off in negative temperatures, though… There is a quiet familiarity to the routine. It’s easy to be around Joel. Less to think about. It’s as if his presence brings a calmness, something solid to hook your focus into. You were aware these feelings meant trouble, but at this point… what didn’t?

Joel slows his pace as you pass the river, no doubt feeling just as relieved to be in the home stretch. He reaches a comfortable pace a few feet from you, eyes cast forward. The steady clomp of his boots falls into time with your own.

“Almost there,” he comments, shooting a quick glance in your direction. He knits his brow together, eyes scanning your red cheeks. “Y’alright?”

I’m lucky the cold sting of the wind hides the blush that creeps into my face. “Yep. Nothing I love more than freezing my dick off in this beautiful Wyoming hellscape.”

Joel snorts under his breath, bringing a pleased smile to your lips. One point for Y/N…

“What about you, old man?” You suddenly tease, testing your luck. You watch as Joel turns a sharp amber gaze in your direction, jaw clenching. But he’s unable to hide the twinkle in his eyes. You arch a brow, waiting for his response.

Joel simply adjusts his rifle on his shoulder to a more comfortable position with a grunt. “Old man could still kick your ass…” He grumbles, eyes locked on the horizon, scanning from right to left.

You break into a genuine grin, falling silent once more as you both make your way step-by-step towards home. 1.8 miles. 1.6 miles. 1.5 miles. It’s a relatively quiet day besides the howling of wind and the crunch of snow under your feet. Not many people are crazy enough to brave the northern winter; though, you maintain your daily patrols, unwilling to take the chance and end up losing the first place you’ve found to be safe in a long time.

It’s almost too uneventful these days… You catch yourself thinking just as your foot hits a hidden patch of ice. You hear the snap before you feel it, a sharp pulse of pain shooting its way up your leg as you tumble down, hitting the ground with a hard thump. A soft cry makes its way from your throat, practically losing itself in the wind.

Before you can figure out what happened, Joel is kneeling beside you, eyes scanning you diligently, hands hovering above your wounded leg. “Sh, sh sh…” He consoles. “Y’alright?” He checks your head for injury, and you swat him away, hissing through your teeth at the radiating pain in your ankle.

“Fine, Joel,” You grunt. “Didn’t hit my head, just slipped. I… I think it’s broken.” You attempt to move your leg, the pain causing your vision to go white for a split instant. “Shit!” You’re over a mile away from home with no horses, and the weather seems to be picking up. Wracking your brain, you clench your jaw. “Go to town, get help. I’ve got my rifle.” Staying here by yourself isn’t the most appealing of ideas, but you know you can’t walk.

You see Joel bristle as you suggest parting, and the man releases an annoyed puff of air in the form of a small cloud that dissipates above your heads. “Go to town, my ass. I’m not leavin’ you out here to freeze to death.” His eyes are locked onto yours, a warm coffee-color that reflects the dull glint of sunlight off the freshly fallen snow. You feel your body give an involuntary shudder and mentally blame it on the pain.

“Well unless you’re hiding a horse up your ass, you don’t have a choice,” I counter, tilting my head in a clear challenge.

This only seems to strengthen Joel’s resolve. He silently stands, towering over you for a moment. In this instant, it seems as though he may actually turn and leave you lying there. Why does the thought of that make your stomach hurt? However, his intentions make themselves clear when he steps behind you and locks his thick arms under your knees and behind your back. With a deep grunt, he straightens up, you locked tightly against his chest like a baby. The move is dizzying, and you unintentionally grip his shoulders in response. “Woah! Joel! What are you doing?”

“Deal with it,” he grunts as simply as that. He begins to take gentle steps back on our route towards town, paying attention to any unlevel areas of ground. You barely feel the motions of his stride, but you’re hyper aware of other things now. The warmth of his broad chest radiating out and thawing your aching muscles. His steady breathing, gentle puffs of air on the top of your head. The thump-thump-thump of your heartbeat. And most of all, the deep crimson shade that’s taken over your cheeks as you’re forced into an incredibly-humiliating position of vulnerability. You want to protest, to hit him, to force him to drop you and leave you on the frozen ground to avoid being spotted like this. However, you can’t deny the surge of warmth that spreads through your belly as the man carries you effortlessly over the landscape.

Joel purposely shoots you a glance, sensing your discomfort. “Y’alright?”

“Shut up.”

“Big words for someone gettin’ a free lift,” he shoots back, clearly enjoying the upper hand. There’s a hint of arrogance in his tone that makes you want to slap him and then kiss him. It sends a shiver down your spine, something not lost on the older man. You sense the vibration of a chuckle in his chest, but he stays silent, maintaining a clear and careful path back towards Jackson.

“This is humiliating,” You whine, throwing your head back and letting the snow fall directly onto your face.

“Quit your complainin’. Freezing to death ‘cause of pride would be humiliating.” Joel tightens his grip. “And for Christ’s sake, help me out here. Hold on or somethin’.”

You clench my teeth, biting back a groan while you throw a hesitant arm around his shoulders, other hand holding on to his jacket. It’s the least intimate position you could possibly contort yourself into, and yet it still feels like you’re playing “damsel-in-distress.” You should have seen the ice coming, should have been more careful. Now you were definitely off patrol for a while. A shadow falls over your face at the thought of someone else taking over your patrol slot with Joel.

“It hurtin’?” Joel asks softly, voice taking on a careful tone. When you glance up, he’s concerned, eyes flicking down to study your swelling ankle. “We’ll be there soon.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” You close your eyes, finding comfort in the darkness away from your present situation. “Thanks.”

A low rumble is all you receive in response, his chest humming an approving noise. The steady rocking of his pace sends your head falling back against his chest every few steps, colliding gently with the hard muscle. Being this close, you can smell his natural Joel smell. Like old sawdust and pine. It’s a comforting scent that you’ve grown used to on patrol, sneaking careful inhales without Joel noticing. You could only imagine the taunts you would receive if he ever suspected. He knows about your sexuality at this point, but he’s never made a case of it, electing instead to carry on as if nothing changed, which you appreciate. In return, you refrain from asking about his personal life, only engaging when he has something to share, which is rare.

“You fallin’ asleep on me?”

Joel’s drawling voice wakes you from your daydream, your eyes shooting open to find an amused, maybe even cocky smirk. You feel your cheeks redden again. “No, shut up.” You feel like a child in his arms, completely helpless. It’s a far cry from how you’ve worked hard to prove yourself, both to the community and to Joel.

Joel just chuckles and continues his trek. Within minutes you spot the familiar walls of Jackson on the horizon. Your body relaxes a bit knowing your ordeal will be over soon. With a sharp whistle, Joel has them opening the heavy wooden gates, carrying you inside. You begin to squirm, ready for Joel to release you, but he just lifts you higher into his grip and continues walking, ignoring the looks from the gate patrol. “I’m takin’ you to the infirmary,” he states, resolute.

You open your mouth to protest, but something about his steady determination feels… good. It has a warmth pooling in your core again, eyes careful as they scrutinize Joel’s rugged expression. Deciding it best not to argue, you just nod silently and look forward as he walks you both to the nearby infirmary. It’s a quiet day today, most people holed up inside their homes to wait out the falling snow. The infirmary only has a few people flitting in and out, and Joel is confident as he makes his way inside towards an available cot. “Slipped on ice out on patrol,” he explains calmly when the nurse makes his way over to you.

“We’re gonna have to cut these pants off,” the nurse explains apologetically, eyes flitting to your swelling ankle. “I hope you have more.”

You roll your eyes, unable to help yourself. “Great. Just great.” You sigh and nod, giving silent permission for the scissors to be brought out. Joel backs up, giving the staff room to work, though his eyes remain fixed. They study your calm diligence as your favorite pair of pants is hacked away, your ankle red and inflamed. His cheeks appear almost tinged pink when he realizes he’s gazing, and he quickly averts his gaze to give you some privacy.

You, meanwhile, are too busy mourning the pants to notice how Joel’s eyes flicker across the hem of your underwear before shooting down to the tile floor. If you had noticed, you may have also seen the way his breath catches in his throat, or how his pupils dilate. But no, you’re busy watching as the staff treat your ankle, setting and wrapping it, and giving you a small amount of pain medication to take on your way. They don’t have any extra pants around, so they wrap you as best they can in a thick fleece blanket, making you look like the world’s most insane upper-midwestern mermaid. You don’t miss the twinkle in Joel’s eyes when he sees your new outfit.

“Well that sure is somethin’ ya don’t see every day…” Joel muses, one side of his mouth curling up into an amused smirk.

“I swear to god, Joel,” you groan. “Can you just help me get home?”

Joel raises his hands in mock defense. “Alright, alright. But you’re coming with me.” His voice carries with it a sternness that dares you to challenge him.

“With you?” You squeak out, surprised.

“Ya can’t walk. Not at least for a few days.” He scratches the back of his head, and if you didn’t know any better, you would think he appeared sheepish. “You got hurt on my watch, and that makes you my responsibility.”

Your face falls slightly. So that’s it? I’m a responsibility? I feel my jaw clench. “I can’t take care of myself, Joel.” The statement is pure bullshit. He and you both know you’d be frozen into a human popsicle if it weren’t for Joel’s stubbornness. “I’m not anyone’s burden.”

Joel’s eyes narrow as he takes in your reaction, the defensive hurt evident on your face. It doesn’t take him a second to kneel down next to your cot, eyes serious. “Hey now…” His gaze is a magnetic force, pulling your focus up to those eyes of his. Those damn eyes…

“You’re no burden,” he declares matter-of-factly. “I’m just lookin’ out for ya. We’re… we’re buds, right?”

Buds? You blink. Since when does Joel consider you a friend? You must have worn your surprise on your face, because Joel continues on.

“Yeah, buds. Whatever. Shut up. Just let me bring you home with me for a couple days, alright? I could use the company. Ellie’s out on a supply run for the week anyways.” His eyes soften, seeming to implore me. But his mouth is still drawn in that classic Joel expression.

“I…” You feel your suspicion begin to dissipate, replaced with surprised confusion. “Fine.” Your voice is soft, careful even. Of all the times you’ve fantasized about Joel bringing you home, this was never one of the scenarios.

Joel nods silently, but his body hums with a pleased glow. He stands, takes the medication and pockets it before glancing back down at you.. “Ready?” His arms twitch to take you up again, but this time he refrains from doing so until he’s sure you’re expecting it. “Promise I’m just a short walk away this time.” He shoots you an uncharacteristically cheeky grin.

You feel yourself nodding before you even consider his words. Joel takes you up to cradle you once more, this time making sure the blanket around your lower half is wrapped securely and won’t be lost in the increasingly-strong winds outside. You barely notice the frigid temperatures this time. Between the adrenaline from your ankle and the warmth flooding your body from Joel’s arms, it could be springtime. Luckily, there’s nobody wandering outside to spot this display of vulnerability, and Joel is able to bring you to his home within the next few minutes.

The air inside is warmer, but still chilly, as he sets you on the couch. He wordlessly moves to the fireplace and gets a good blaze started. The heat from the flames fills the room with a comforting warm and steady glow, already making you forget about the storm outside. You find yourself holding the small bottle of pain pills from the infirmary. “Take your meds,” Joel commands, eyes studying you for a moment before he turns and disappears into the kitchen.

“Aye, aye, Cap’n…” You mutter, twisting off the top and popping one. At least we have medication now. The town supplies were steadily growing, but this winter was bound to be harsh. It was a good thing the reserves could last you for weeks… Your mind wanders while Joel fusses about in the kitchen, returning with two cups of coffee. The aroma fills your nose, making you almost forget about the dull throb in your ankle for just a moment.

Joel wordlessly hands you a steaming mug and takes a seat in the chair across from you. His gaze is steady as he takes in the sight of you laid up on his couch. His expression is hard to read, but it seems as though he’s pleased about something.

Narrowing your eyes, you interrupt the silence. “What?”

Joel shakes his head with a low chuckle. “You’re cute when you’re all indignant.”

The words hang in the air like balloons. It’s as close to a flirt as you’ve ever heard from Joel, and directed at you??? You feel heat rise to your cheeks, and you swallow thickly. “I- er… I-”

“See?” Joel shakes his head, releasing an amused puff of breath. “You can’t stand being taken care of, can you?”

Your cheeks burn, embarrassed. That’s not entirely the truth. To be perfectly honest, you wanted nothing more than to sit back and let Joel take care of you. To protect you. To provide for you. But that isn’t the way the world works. People don’t just take care of others without expecting something in return. You knew Joel wasn’t the type, not anymore… but the bias remained firm. “I… This isn’t a place where you can rely on someone else,” You finally choke out.

Joel studies you carefully, considering your words, before responding.

“This place? With me?” He grows serious, expression softening. “You ain’t gotta worry about that, hot shot.” His teasing term of endearment makes my shoulders soften, a familiarity amidst all this new territory and the rearranging of boundaries that comes with it. Joel points to my ankle. “That. That’s no joke. You could make it worse. Hurt yourself. I still need you on patrol when you get better.” His mouth twitches up into a tiny smile. “Next time you can carry me. I promise.”

The joke prompts a laugh out of you, the mental image of you struggling to lift Joel into your arms a sight to behold. As your body shakes with laughter, you spot Joel with a pleased grin, his plan to break down your walls already working. It was a strange game you played. Each with your own walls and defenses, each with your own strategy of navigating the other’s. Here, in Joel’s home, you felt those walls attempt to erect themselves again, your body’s way of protecting itself against threats. And your developing crush on Joel was the biggest threat of all.

***

One day turned into two days, and two days turned into two weeks. Your ankle was slower to heal than you would have liked, and crutches would have been no help on the icy terrain around town. Joel demanded you remain at his home, long after Ellie returned. The teen regarded you laid up on the couch with an amused smirk. “It’s about time,” she remarks, a teasing grin playing on her lips.

Joel shoots her a dark glower, and she backs off, hands raised in defense. “I’ll be upstairs.” She shoots a final smirk directly at me before turning on her heel and bounding upstairs to go do whatever it is that teenagers do. Joel sighs, shaking his head and grumbling something about kids. You, however, are still stuck on Ellie’s comment.

“What did she mean by ‘about time?’” You ask.

Joel looks up from his hands, brow shooting up. “Er, who knows? Have you met Ellie? Who knows what she’s sayin’ half the time?” He tries to play it off, but you’ve spent enough time around Joel to know when he’s bullshitting. Still, though, you don’t care to dig too much, so you try and change the subject. “Joel? Would you mind grabbing the ice pack?” The request is simple. Usually, giving Joel something to make him feel helpful is the quickest way to dissolve any lingering tension.

Like clockwork, Joel rises and moves to the kitchen with a silent but relieved nod. When he returns, he makes his way to the couch and takes a seat, pausing to move your legs into his lap. He’s gentle as he moves you, taking care to support your weight evenly. Even the ice pack feels feather light when he presses it to your ankle. This had been your nightly routine for the past week, as Joel argued that you weren’t “icin’ it proper.” This had also led to more indignant protesting and a lot of red cheeks before you finally gave in.

You let out a tiny, relieved sigh as the ice pack soothes your injury, eyes falling closed. “Thanks, Joel…”

Joel grunts in response. “See? Feels nice to let someone finally take care of ya.”

You chuckle, butterflies fluttering about in your belly at his words. “Yeah, yeah… You know, you seem to like this more than you should.” Your tone is teasing. “Maybe you shoulda been a doctor.”

Joel hums in amusement. “Hmph. Nah, not for everyone, just… just you.”

The words are like an atomic bomb set off between you. Your eyes flutter open, finding Joel staring at the fire like he can’t believe what he’s just said. His muscles are rigid, the kind of frozen that appears when you’re hiding from something out on patrol. All you hear is the crackling of the fire and the steady beating of your heart in your ears. “Me?” You finally manage to gasp out.

It’s the reddest you’ve ever seen Joel. His eyes shoot from the flames to your face, and he releases a long, steady stream of air. He seems to be accepting his fate. “You.” With an awkward clearing of his throat, he focuses back on your ankle, adjusting the ice pack. There’s a tension in the air now, thick enough to cut. For a moment, you worry you’re misinterpreting things, but when Joel glances up at you, the truth is evident. He has something deeper on his mind.

“Y/N, I…” Joel treads cautiously, appearing hesitant to say the wrong thing. One of his hands cups your other ankle, lightly enough to be felt but not strong enough to keep you still. “I’m tired.” He clenches his jaw, determined. “I’m tired of dancin’ around this shit. I’m gettin’ too old for this.” He finally twists his head, gaze locking onto yours, challenging. “I care about you. More than I thought I would. More than I should. More than you probably know.” Those puppy dog eyes of his are relentless. “I like ya.”

Talk about atomic bombs.

You can’t suppress the sudden trembles that crop up across your body. All the feelings you’d been fighting with for so long are making their way out of the floodgates. All these months of patrol with Joel, of sneaking secret looks and dreaming of moments like this. The time spent in his home has only driven you closer and intensified those feelings. You’ve been growing to enjoy feeling taken care of, and Joel does it oh-so-well. “Joel…” You breathe, heart racing.

The man pauses his doctor routine to meet your eyes, and for the first time since you’ve met him, you see fear. It’s almost disconcerting. His hands remain close, ready to remove themselves at your word. He worries he’s gone past the point of no return now.

“I want you.”

The words send a shudder through Joel’s body. His breath comes out quicker, and his eyes take on a gleam of desire. It’s as if a weight has been loosened from his shoulders. Gently… tenderly… he leans closer, arm coming to steady your head in his giant paw of a hand. He pauses inches away, warm brown eyes searching yours earnestly. You feel his breath on your face, the heat of his body both heavy and comforting. The scent of his soap and that natural Joel smell that you crave so deeply.

“Please…” You breathe, afraid to blink lest the moment end.

“Gladly…” Joel closes the distance between you, capturing your mouth in a sweet, tender kiss. He’s surprisingly gentle, but you can feel the raw power in his body, barely kept at bay from sheer resolve. His scruff tickles your face, and it makes you shiver with delight. Emboldened, you take your hands and cup his cheeks, running your thumbs over the short, prickly follicles. Without meaning to, you release a low whine into his mouth.

Joel’s grip tightens, and he deepens the kiss, his tongue exploring the seam of your lips. When you part them to grant him access, you can feel his grin. Joel’s hands move down your torso, settling at your waist. His lips are soft and warm against yours, tasting slightly of whisky. It gives you a heady rush, your own hands fumbling at his chest to undo his top shirt buttons. You find his hand gripping your wrists, eyes on fire with utter desire.

“Are you sure?” His voice is calm, but it's tinged with a slight tremor, as if he’s on the verge of something.

“Joel…” You gaze up at him. “I’ve wanted you for so long…” The admission makes your cheeks burn, but you can see the pleased look on Joel’s face. Without another word, he scoops you up just as he had on the way back from patrol, heading to the stairs. He wordlessly strides up to the second floor, turning down the dark hall and entering his bedroom. As he gently sets you down on the mattress, he presses a gentle kiss to your ear. “I’m gonna take good care of you tonight, Darlin’,” he purrs.

You shiver, the anticipation spreading throughout your limbs. You cast a glance up at Joel, your expression one of hunger and desire, but also of vulnerability and trust. Joel seems pleased by this, and he rises once more to begin removing his shirt. You watch intensely as the worn fabric shrugs its way off of broad shoulders, sliding over python-like biceps and hitting the floor with a muted thump. Joel stands bare chested in front of you. Your eyes rake over his thick, strong neck, leading into a broad, muscular chest that dissipates into a softer tummy. Flecks of salt-and-pepper chest hair dot his torso, the heaviest concentration gathering in a condensed line heading from his navel and disappearing into his jeans. You swallow thickly, eyes locked on his belt. Your fingers itch to remove it yourself, but you force stillness while Joel continues his show.

His thick fingers have his belt out in no time at all, dropping his pants to the floor. Arousal floods you at the sight of his (presumably) heavy cock straining against the black fabric of his underwear. Even restrained, it was impressive. You felt your mouth fall open as you directed your gaze back up to his eyes. They were diligently trained on you, studying your body language like he was out on patrol. He steps free of his pants and approaches carefully, swinging a leg up on the bed to prowl up your body.

His heat blankets you in warmth, his weight a comforting feeling. Boxing you in with his forearms, he settles lower and kisses you softly. “This okay?”

You nod wordlessly, fingers already moving to your shirt buttons. Joel catches you and chuckles low, sitting up on his knees to help you out. Between the two of you, your shirt is off quickly. Opened up like plaid angel wings underneath your trembling frame.

“So beautiful…” Joel murmurs, settling back down and pressing soft, aching kisses to your chest. His beard pricks your skin, sending fire rushing down to your already straining member. He feels so warm and solid atop your body. The sensation is an unfamiliar but welcome one. Hesitantly, you clutch Joel’s rippling shoulder blades, admiring the tautness of the skin underneath your fingertips.

Joel’s lips find a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, making you buck softly, a low whine crawling its way out of your throat. “Oh!”

Joel grins wolfishly against your neck. “Oh?” His lips attack once more, teeth grazing the soft, supple flesh. “Does someone like that?” He nuzzles against the sensitive spot, breath hot and ready. His callused hands clutch and grip you tightly in place. “Sensitive, aren’t we?”

His teasing tone makes your heart flutter. It feels so good to give into this side of yourself, one that isn’t afraid to moan and squirm and show vulnerability. Something about Joel’s presence makes you feel it’s okay to let go and come fully undone. It’s a primal urge, a desire for truth. For something raw and exposed.

Joel’s hands pause on your sweatpants, teeth nibbling at my earlobe. “May I?” He growls.

You whimper once more, and Joel gives a low grunt of approval before undoing the drawstring and slipping them down over your hips. “You’re beyond beautiful like this…” He coos in praise, fingers trailing lightly over your exposed flesh. “I’ve wanted this for so long…” He leans down to press a tender kiss to your lips, leaving you dizzy.

Joel begins making his way down to help y fully shimmy out of my sweats before returning to hook his fingers into the waistband of your underwear. He shoots you one final look for consent, refusing to budge unless you give him an answer. You give him a nod, raising your hips to make it easier. Within an instant, your underwear is gathered around your ankles, and Joel is admiring you, fully exposed, beneath him.

His eyes lock onto your erection, currently bobbing and twitching, aching for any kind of contact. His tongue flits out and licks his lips before he shoots you a cheeky look. “Big boy…” He grins.The comment sends you blushing yet again, to which Joel responds with a hungry chuckle. He softly takes his hand, wrapping around your base, eyes meeting yours with a look of pure lust. The pressure makes you moan involuntarily, and your eyes squeeze themselves shut.

“Eyes on me,” Joel growls. “I wanna see you when I make you scream my name…”

Your eyes fly open, heart pounding so loudly you worry that Joel himself can hear it with his deaf ear. The commanding tone comes out of nowhere, sounding similar to how Joel presented himself to you during your first few patrols together. This time, however, it makes you even needier. “Joel…” You whimper.

Joel’s response is to grin and then wrap his lips around the head of your cock, sinking down and enveloping your arousal in his warm, velvety mouth. The sensation is like fireworks going off inside of your groin, and you can’t contain the moan that rips its way out, reverberating through the home. Thank god Ellie was out for the day.

Joel brings his mouth off long enough to shoot you a smirk. “Good boy…”

You shiver uncontrollably, lost in the throes of desire. You need more, and you need it now. Joel seems all-too-happy to comply as he envelops your cock in his mouth once more, this time taking you all the way to the base. He swirls his tongue around your shaft while one hand massages your inner thighs, fingers working their way lower and lower. It’s an overwhelming feeling, and your eyes practically roll back in your head. “Fuck!”

Joel moans his approval around your cock, the vibration sending even more pleasure rushing through you. He bobs his head up and down, intent on making this about you first and foremost. And oh, did he want you to come undone for him…

You cry out, overwhelmed by the sensations, tangling your fingers in his curls. He only increases his efforts, spurned on by your responses. You can feel the heat in your belly coiling and tensing, bringing you closer and closer to the edge of white hot bliss. You struggle to come up with the words to warn Joel. “J-Joel! I… I’m gonna… I-”

Joel brings his head off your dick, swiping his tongue down the side of your shaft. “What are you gonna do, Baby?” He purrs.

I whimper, bucking softly, arching my back into his touch. “Please… I wanna cum…”

The burning request makes Joel shiver, and a dark glint twinkles in his eye. “Oh, don’t worry, Darlin’...” He ignores your weeping cock and prowls over you like a panther until his eyes are locked right above your own. “I’m gonna get you there.” He gently grasps your hands and brings them to the waistband of his boxers. Sensing the intention, you eagerly hook your fingers in and lower them, freeing his cock. It swings down like a battle ax, heavy and swollen with desire. The sight makes your breath catch in your throat, already anticipating the feeling of him stretching you out.

“You want this, Darlin’?” Joel murmurs, hand brushing your cheek delicately. The motion causes you to turn your eyes back to his, fervent with lust.

“Y-yes…” You nod, hand reaching down to softly wrap around his hilt. The action makes Joel stiffen and gasp, sending a thrill through you. You hold him for a moment, eyes heavy through thick lashes. “Do you have… do you have any lube?”

Joel chuckles and reaches over into his nightstand drawer. “The perks of being on scavenge teams.” He withdraws a small bottle of something and returns to hover over you, slathering his fingers in the substance. “You ready?”

You nod breathlessly. “Please, Joel.” The request is simple but laced with need. The anticipation was killing you. You watch with careful eyes as Joel lowers his fingers, teasing his first digit near your entrance. His eyes lock onto your own, a silent command. You obediently hold his gaze and bite your lip when he begins to probe his way inside of you. You can’t help the shaking, nor can you help the soft moans. Joel fucking loves it, eyes shining with pride at each sound he coerces from your body. It’s been a while since he’s been with a guy, but it’s good to know he still has it. And this wasn’t just any guy… This was “Y/N.”

The sensation of Joel’s finger inside of you is soon joined by two, both working in tandem to stretch you out. It’s been a long time since you’ve done this, but Joel is patient and careful. He wants this to feel good for you. Nothing makes him more aroused than knowing he has that effect. And it’s been a long time for him as well.

“Joel… more!” You cry, bucking your hips. The feeling is too good now, and it’s all you can do to keep from thrusting yourself down on his fingers yourself.

“That’s it, Darlin’... Doin’ so good for me…” Joel purrs, introducing his middle finger to your hole. “So fuckin’ tight…”

His words have you gasping for air, clearly their intended effect, as Joel gives a pleased smile and presses a kiss to your lips. You kiss him back hungrily, teeth clashing, tongues fighting for dominance. Joel wins out, and you succumb to his touch willingly. It’s an easy thing to let go and pass him the reins at this point. He’s shown enough evidence at this point that he knows exactly what you need, even if you didn’t know yourself.

“That’s right, angel… let yourself go…” He encourages, shifting his hips to bring himself up close to your entrance. “Gonna make you feel so good…” He gently removes his fingers and aligns the head of his pulsing cock with your hole. He lets out a low hiss, his eyes squeezing shut. “Fuck… gonna make me feel so good…” His eyes open once- more long enough to lock gazes with you- before he grasps your thighs in both hands and gently pushes inside.

You cry out at the sensation of being stretched out by something larger than his fingers. “Fuck, Joel!” He feels massive, and it’s just the head. It really has been a minute.

Joel shushes you softly, leaning forward to pepper your face with kisses. “Doin’ so good, Darlin’...” He buries his face in your neck. “We’ll stay right here… long as you need.” His voice is steady and patient, but his body trembles with the effort of keeping himself only just inserted in you. The restraint is perhaps one of the hottest displays of affection you’ve seen in a long time.

You bite your lip, forcing yourself to relax more. “Just… kiss me… and take me…” You beg softly, willing Joel to look back. When he does, his expression is of amusement and arousal. He brings his face closer, lips finally meeting yours with a tenderness you’d come to expect. “Gladly…” He moans, and then he begins pushing the rest of the way inside of you. You gasp into his mouth, feeling his tongue swipe at your teeth in a carnal display of possession. He bottoms out and continues to kiss you, hands cradling the back of your head, hips locked into place. “You… feel so… good…” He groans. “Fucking hell…”

You whimper, allowing yourself to get used to the feeling of having Joel buried inside of you, stretching you out and filling you up. “Oh… Joel…”

Joel growls as you moan out his name, lips claiming yours once more in a passionate display of affection. “Fuckin’ love hearing you say my name like that…” He snarls. “Might have to keep ya around.” His hand grips the side of your ass roughly, but his eyes still carry that same tenderness underneath the arousal. You can feel your blood roaring in your ears at this point, carrying with it the pressure of wanting your release.

“Joel…” You whimper again, testing out the waters.

Joel groans, hips moving forward and pushing him impossibly deep inside of your walls. “Fuck, Darlin’... You don’t know what you do to me…”

You force back a pleased smile long enough to find his warm toffee gaze once more. “Please, Joel… I need you.”

Joel’s breath catches in his throat, a bead of sweat dripping from his temple. “Well, shit, sweetheart. That’s all you had to say.” He begins to pull out softly, stopping before he’s fully extricated, then pumping himself back into you with a resounding smack of skin against skin. The sound is absolutely obscene, and it makes Joel pick up the speed. His hips move quickly, back and forth, finding a rhythm that has the bed creaking and headboard knocking against the wall. You find your nails digging into Joel’s back, leaving small angry crescents across his back. The sensation makes him hiss and bury his face in your neck with a muffled howl of delight.

“Let me hear my name, Darlin’,” he pants, rhythm building, wanting to hear the delight he’s giving you.

Your good leg wraps around him, pulling him deeper. “Joel!” You mewl, vision obscured by heavy lids. With your legs around him, Joel is deeper than ever, the pressure of your tight walls around him almost too much to bear.

“Fuck…” He swears, his thrusts becoming more urgent, the sound of skin-against-skin filling the room. His lips seek yours, hungry and desperate as he guides you both to the brink. His chest is slick with sweat, a testament to the intensity of his actions. “Cum for me, Angel… Cum with my cock inside you…” He murmurs against your lips, his movements erratic, his own climax impending.

You feel yourself teetering over into that blissful oblivion as he shifts his hips one final time and begins hitting your sweet spot. The pleasure is blinding, and even though you’re sure you’re practically screaming his name, you can barely hear yourself as you reach orgasm. You’re sure you’ve never cum so hard in your life. As you do, you tighten around Joel’s pistoning cock, and he’s unable to prevent from filling you with his seed. You gasp at the sensation of load after load of Joel’s cum filling you, hot and thick. Joel shakes with the tremors of pleasure as he pumps out the last of his load, finally collapsing on top of you in one big sweaty mess.

“Goddamn…” he breathes, still impaling you with his cock.

You’re at a loss for words, reality slowly setting in as you realize you and Joel have just crossed into uncharted territory. But with the man’s comforting weight on you, arms wrapped protectively around your torso, you find it hard to be anxious. That’s a first. You find yourself speaking first after several moments of introspection.

“Did you mean what you said?”

Joel pauses at your sudden interjection, finding his eyes making their way over your bare torso and up to your gaze. “Did I mean what?” He asks. “Specifically?”

You feel a familiar tinge of embarrassment. “That you care for me…” You look away.

Joel hums a disapproving tone and reaches out to gently tilt your chin back to face him. “Of course, Darlin’. I’m not just trying to get my rocks off here, though…” He glances down at himself, still fully embedded inside of you. “Mission accomplished,” he grins cheekily.

The relief floods your body, easing tension you didn’t realize you were carrying. “Oh… good.” A faint smile crosses your lips. “I meant it, too.”

Joel gives you a small smile, hand reaching to caress your cheek softly. You lean into his touch, craving the gentle contact in such an intimate moment. “Good.”

You lay there for a while before Joel shifts, slowly removing himself from you. The sensation makes you hiss, and Joel himself groans until he’s finally extricated from you. “Sorry,” he apologizes. “Gonna get a shower goin’. I’ll come help you up when it’s ready.” And with that, he gives you a tender kiss on the lips and rises to pad off into the bathroom.

You remain on your back, gazing up at the ceiling and marveling at the turn of events. What does this make you? What will Ellie think? What will Tommy think? Hell, what will the town think? Anxieties plague your mind until Joel returns, and he can sense your discomfort.

“Hey now… what’s the matter?” He rushes over, sitting on the side of the bed and checking you over. “I didn’t hurt ya, did I?”

The comment brings a smirk to your face. “Only in the best way,” you chuckle. The joke relaxes Joel, but his eyes still carry concern, so you continue. “I guess… just wondering what people are gonna think, ya know? I know it’s stupid, but…” You trail off, looking down.

Joel’s hand takes yours, giving it a reaffirming squeeze. “For starters, I think people got bigger problems than whatever we do with ourselves.” He smirks. “God knows Ellie will have lots to say, but she’s the one that’s been ridin’ my ass about asking you out for the past three months.”

Suddenly, her comment (“It’s about time…”) makes sense to you. “Oh…” Then a blush crosses your face. “Months???”

Joel grins unexpectedly, ducking his head and running a hand through his curls. “Guess it took me a while to work up the nerve…” He looks sheepish.

“I broke my goddamn ankle!” You find yourself laughing suddenly, amused at the stupidity of it all. “We fight monsters out there almost every day, but we couldn’t even bring ourselves to just get a damn drink?”

Joel’s eye catches yours, the wrinkles at the corner growing deeper as his grin widens. “Well, how about it?” He asks, hand clutching your own and turning it over to inspect it with gentle eyes.

“How about what?” You tilt your head.

“That drink?” Joel’s gaze flicks up once more. “I’d say I owe you a few.”

You bite back a pleased smile, your heart swelling. “It’s a date.”

Joel grins, pleased, before ducking down and crushing his lips to yours in a passionate kiss. His delight is palpable, and it may be the first time you’ve seen him this way. It seems he has as much opening up to do as you. But… as you feel his warmth and steadiness around you, you know that it’s only inevitable. Your ankle will eventually heal, and you’ll return to patrols with Joel. Things will go back to the way they were except for in the one way that matters most. Joel is never, ever, taking his eye off you again. And that’s a promise.

[sexsylexi]

His body heat

Arthur morgan x reader

Summary-In the midst of a harsh winter, the gang is low on supplies, prompting Dutch to send members out to hunt. One day, Arthur Morgan offers to accompany you on a hunting trip. After hours of unsuccessful hunting, a fierce storm hits, forcing you to seek shelter in an abandoned cabin. Inside, the cold is relentless, and Arthur, seeing you shiver, wraps you in his coat and holds you close for warmth. As you nestle into his embrace, Arthur reassures you with comforting words and a gentle kiss on your head, promising to always be there for you. Safe in his arms, you find peace amidst the storm.

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

The biting chill of winter gnawed at every exposed bit of skin as the gang huddled around the meager campfire, its weak flames doing little to stave off the biting cold. Supplies were running low, and desperation began to seep into every conversation. Dutch, with his usual authoritative demeanor, had been sending out pairs of the gang to hunt and scavenge what they could. This morning, it was your turn.

You had been preparing yourself for the cold trek when Arthur approached, his breath visible in the frigid air. "Need some company?" he asked, his rugged features softened by a hint of concern.

You nodded, grateful for the company. Hunting alone in these conditions was not just difficult but dangerous. Arthur was not only an excellent hunter but also someone you trusted implicitly.

The two of you set out shortly after dawn, the ground crunching underfoot as you moved through the dense forest. The trees stood like skeletal sentinels, their branches heavy with snow. Every breath felt sharp, and the world was eerily silent, save for the occasional call of a distant bird.

Hours passed with little luck. The game was scarce, likely driven deep into hiding by the harsh weather. You tracked a few trails, but they all ended in disappointment. Arthur remained patient, his sharp eyes scanning the landscape for any sign of movement.

As the day wore on, the sky began to darken ominously. "We should head back," Arthur suggested, his voice low but urgent. "Looks like a storm's brewing."

Just as you turned to make your way back to camp, the wind picked up fiercely, sending a flurry of snow around you. Within minutes, the gentle snowfall turned into a blinding blizzard. The path back disappeared under a blanket of white, and visibility was reduced to a mere few feet.

"We need to find shelter," Arthur shouted over the howling wind, his voice barely audible.

You nodded, teeth chattering, as the cold began to seep through your layers of clothing. Together, you trudged through the deepening snow, searching desperately for any form of shelter. After what felt like an eternity, you stumbled upon a small, abandoned cabin nestled among the trees.

Arthur pushed the door open with a grunt, and you both hurried inside, slamming it shut against the relentless storm. The interior was dark and musty, but it provided much-needed protection from the elements.

You both set about trying to make the space more livable. Arthur found some old, dry wood in a corner and managed to get a small fire going in the fireplace. You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to stop the shivering that had taken hold of your body.

"Come here," Arthur said gently, patting the spot next to him by the fire. His eyes were filled with concern as he watched you shiver. "You need to get warm."

You hesitated for a moment before moving closer. The fire's warmth was a welcome relief, but it wasn't enough to banish the deep cold that had settled in your bones. Arthur noticed and, without a word, draped his heavy coat over your shoulders.

"That won't be enough," he murmured, pulling you gently into his side. His arms wrapped around you, and you felt the solid warmth of his body against yours. "Body heat's the best way to stay warm."

You nestled closer, your head resting against his chest. His heartbeat was a steady, comforting rhythm in your ear. The storm raged outside, but inside the cabin, a bubble of warmth and safety began to form. Arthur's arms tightened around you, pulling you closer still, and you felt the tension begin to drain from your body.

Minutes passed in silence, the only sound the crackling of the fire and the howling wind outside. Arthur's presence was a balm to your frayed nerves, his warmth seeping into you and chasing away the chill.

"You'll be alright," he whispered, his lips brushing against the top of your head. "We'll get through this. Together."

His words were a promise, and you felt a surge of gratitude and something deeper, something you hadn't fully acknowledged before. Arthur's hand moved gently, his fingers threading through your hair in a soothing gesture. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, his lips warm and reassuring.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"No need to thank me," he replied softly. "I'll always be here for you."

The storm continued to rage outside, but inside the cabin, wrapped in Arthur's arms, you felt a sense of peace and security. The world might be harsh and unforgiving, but with Arthur by your side, you knew you could face whatever challenges lay ahead.

You drifted off to sleep, cocooned in warmth and the comforting presence of the man beside you. As the fire crackled and the storm raged, you felt safe, knowing that Arthur would always be there to keep you warm.

[ladywhistlewrites]

If I may, could I possibly request Benedict Bridgerton x reader who needed to get away from everything ( don’t exactly know what my apologies ) as it was overwhelming and ran into the forest whilst they was a storm and ended up slipping down becoming injured and unconscious? ( goes from that to him going out looking for reader )

hiii (omg my first ask) ofc!!

I did my best hope you like it🩷

Benedict brigerton x gn reader

The weight of the world bore heavily upon your shoulders, and the oppressive atmosphere of the ball only served to suffocate you further. The grandeur of the Bridgerton estate, with its lavish decorations and spirited laughter, felt like a cage closing in around you. Air, you needed air, space, and solitude—a moment to breathe away from prying eyes and the incessant demands of high society.

Without a word to anyone, you slipped out of the ballroom, heart pounding in your chest as you made your way through the gardens. The night air was cool against your flushed skin, a welcome relief from the stifling heat inside. You walked faster, pace quickening with each step, until you broke into a run. The storm brewing on the horizon mirrored the turmoil within you and you welcomed it, hoping the rain would wash away your troubles.

The first droplets began to fall just as you reached the edge of the forest. The tall, dark trees beckoned you with their promise of seclusion, and you didn't hesitate, plunging into the dense undergrowth. The storm intensified, lightning illuminating the path ahead in brief, blinding flashes, followed by the deafening roar of thunder. You pressed on, deeper into the forest, driven by a desperate need to escape.

Your foot caught on a hidden root, and you tumbled down a steep incline, the world spinning around you.

You landed hard, pain shooting through your leg as you tried to stand. Your vision blurred, the rain now a torrential downpour, soaking you to the bone.

You tried to call out, but your voice was swallowed by the storm. Darkness closed in, and you succumbed to unconsciousness, lying helpless in the mud.

Back at the Bridgerton estate, Benedict couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. He had noticed you slipping away earlier, your eyes filled with a sadness that tugged at his heart. When you didn't return, he grew increasingly worried. Ignoring the curious glances from the guests, he ventured outside, his coat pulled tight against the storm.

The garden was deserted, and he followed your path through the wet grass, his eyes scanning the forest ahead. He plunged into the trees, calling her name, his voice lost in the howling wind. Fear gripped him as he imagined you alone and frightened in the storm. He pushed on, his heart pounding with determination, until he finally spotted your prone form at the bottom of the incline.

He called out your name, his voice filled with relief and urgency. He scrambled down to your side, his hands trembling as he checked for signs of life. You were breathing, but unconscious, your face pale and clothes soaked through. He gently lifted you into his arms, cradling you against his chest. The journey back to the estate was treacherous, the rain turning the ground to mud, but he moved with a singular focus, driven by the need to get you to safety.

Once inside, the Bridgerton household sprang into action. Benedict carried you up to a guest room, barking orders for hot water, blankets, and the family physician. He stayed by your side, holding your hand, his eyes never leaving your face. The physician arrived quickly, tending to her injuries with practiced efficiency. A sprained ankle and exhaustion, he said, but nothing more serious. You would recover with rest and care.

Benedict breathed a sigh of relief, his heart finally calming. He remained at your bedside, his fingers intertwined with hers, offering silent comfort. As the storm raged outside, the room was filled with a sense of peace. You stirred, your eyes fluttering open to meet his concerned gaze. A weak smile played on your lips, and you squeezed his hand, grateful for his presence.

"You're safe now," he whispered, brushing a strand of wet hair from your forehead. "I'm here."

In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of the Bridgerton home and the steadfast presence of Benedict, you knew you were not alone. The storm had passed, both outside and within, and you felt a glimmer of hope for the days to come.

[kaynanarie]

Eyes of Gold (Part 7)

(A WukongxReader story inspired by Beauty and the Beast and Lutung Kasarung.) (First) (Previous)

            A perfect peach dangled from the branch overhead. Using your small knife, you cut it loose and gently added it to your basket.

            The grove was small but overflowing with countless fruit trees. Nearby, some of the villagers were gathering, sorting, and filling their own baskets. They had brought you with them to the hidden orchard, helpfully pointing out which fruits were ripe for picking as well as various leaves for teas and medicinal herbs.

            Though awkward at first, their curiosity and casual chatter quickly warmed you to their pleasant company. Human questions and monkey gossip were easily exchanged and giggled over as you worked. Your tale of banishment to the mountain invoked shock and outrage from the sympathetic monkeys. They, in turn, shared stories of their troop, detailing everything from prankster cubs to quarrelsome mates.

            It was cheerful, welcoming, but still a little lonely without your peach friend.

            Shihou had been puzzled but supportive of your village visit and offered to take you whenever you were ready. He even found a pack basket big enough to bring fruit for everyone to enjoy. While you looked forward to spending the day with your favorite monkey, his grim frown was not the greeting you expected earlier that morning.

            Something had come up and all the guards were being summoned for an urgent meeting. Shihou was vague but apologetic about the poor timing. He promised to accompany you another day before disappearing to attend to his duties.

            A few of the villagers had overheard the conversation and took pity on you. They were on their way to gather fruit and were kind enough to invite you along. It was a small gesture but your overwhelming gratitude nearly brought you to tears.

            As the sun rose higher, heavy gray clouds rolled in on the horizon. The air turned cool and the light grew dim. You shivered as a sudden gust weaved through the trees, the chill cutting through the delicate silk of your robes. The monkeys were still gathering their harvest but kept a close watch on the storm brewing overhead. With apples, oranges, and peaches filling your own basket to the brim, you sheathed your knife and latched the lid shut.

            The wind shifted, the sweet scent of fruit and flowers mingling with rain on the breeze. But when it settled, the stillness that followed was unnerving. No birds sang, no insects hummed, even the monkeys had fallen silent. They stood tense and guarded, glancing between the trees with nervous eyes and twitching tails.

            A single eerie howl pierced the air and shattered the silence.

Shrieks of alarm followed as gray blurs torn into the grove. The monkeys scattered, some taking off on foot while others climbed to the safety of high branches. You couldn’t move as fast but managed to hide behind a tree as the intruders circled the clearing.

            There were three of them, clearly demons but different from the monkeys you had come to know. While they wore similar robes and walked upright, their faces were wolflike; gray fur, pointed ears, yellow eyes, and long snouts edged with sharp teeth.

            “Leave the monkeys!” the tallest of them shouted, “They’re not worth the punishment.”

            “I smelled a human,” another argued, his nose up the air.

            The last of the trio was hunched over, watching the fleeing villagers disappear into the forest. “Me too. Do you think they ran with the others?”

            “No, I can still smell them. They’re close by.” You panicked as the sniffing wolf turned towards your hiding spot. “Over there!”

            Before you could take a single step, the pack had you surrounded. Their leering eyes and sinister smiles froze you with cold dread. Everyone else was gone, no one left to help as the wolves stalked closer. The leader grabbed your arm, his grip bruising and claws digging when you tried to pull away.

            “Well, look what we have here,” the wolf chuckled. “You’re either very brave or very stupid to go wandering in demon mountains, little human.”

            “Let me go!” you cried, squirming in the demon’s grasp. “I’m an honored guest of the Monkey King!”

            The wolves only laughed; a horrible, raspy bark full of malice. “Sure you are. And I’m the Jade Emperor.”

            “Why don’t you come be our ‘honored guest’ instead?” the hunched wolf spoke with a sneer. “I’m sure you’d make a delicious dinner.”

            Another round of barks and cackles sent chills down your spine. While they were distracted by their own jokes, you felt for your knife. Your shaky fingers managed to unsheathe the blade without fumbling it to the ground.

            “Now,” the leader growled. His fangs hovered closer; hot, rancid breath choking you with every word he spoke. “We can do this the easy way or the fun way; your choice, human.”

            In a desperate gamble, you struck, aiming the knife for the leader’s face. He yowled in pain, reeling back as his free hand reached for his wounded eye. At the same time, you yanked your arm out of his hold. Sharp claws raked your skin and tore the fabric of your sleeve. The instant you were free, you turned and ran, refusing to look back as cries of rage rang after you.

            Icy drops of rain began to fall, the slow patter crescendoing to a dull roar as the sky opened up. Within seconds, you were soaked and chilled to the bone. Leaves slipped underfoot and branches tore at your clothes but you couldn’t stop. The forest was an indistinguishable blur of green and falling rain; the trail long lost in your frantic escape. The splashing footfalls of your pursuers were distant but quickly catching up. Only when your haphazard path led to the flooded river were you forced to a halt.

            There was no way to cross. No path to follow. You didn’t even know where you were on the mountain. And the howls and jeers of the wolves were getting closer. With few options left, you huddled behind a rocky outcrop on the riverbank, wrapping your stinging arm with the tattered remains of your sleeve.

            “You sure the human went this way?”

            The voice was close enough you refused to risk peeking. You hugged your knees into a tight ball, trembling from both cold and fear. Huffs and sniffs nearly blended in with the steady downpour of the storm.

            “The rain’s washing their scent away. But they can’t have gotten too far.”

            “Well hurry up and find out which way they went!”

            A loud crash like a lightning strike cracked through the air. The wolves’ surprised barks and whimpers were shrill in your ringing ears.

            “We haven’t done anything, we’re just passing through!” The leader’s once taunting voice suddenly became defensive and nervous. It didn’t sound like he was still speaking to his fellow wolves. “None of your subjects were hurt! We were just hunting a human so stay out of our w–”

            His words were cut off by a dull thump and something tumbling to the ground. Terrified yelping followed as the other wolves ran straight past you and dove into the river, the current washing them away within seconds.

            You were still in shock when a touch to your shoulder startled you back into panic. Shrieking, you swung wildly. The other hands easily caught your wrists and restrained them in a surprisingly gentle hold.

            “Hey! It’s okay, it’s me!”

            The familiar voice cut through your fear. You glanced up, finding Shihou knelt in front of you. His golden eyes were wide and worried, his grip softening once you stopped fighting him.

            Terror shifted to overwhelming relief. It bubbled up from your chest and clogging your throat in a wave of adrenaline-fueled emotion. Hot tears mixed with the rain as they streamed down your pale cheeks. “Shihou?” you managed to choke out.

            “I can smell blood. Are you hurt?” he asked, scanning you over for injuries.

            Instead of answering, you threw yourself against him, clutching his robes and sobbing into his chest. His arms and tail wrapped around you, pulling your trembling form into a tight embrace. The soft fur and familiar scent of peaches and stone soothed your frayed nerves.

            He was warm. He was comforting. He was safe.

            “It’s okay,” he hummed, soft reassurance in every word. “You’re okay. I’m here now.”

            As your cries softened to sniffles, Shihou reshuffled you in his hold. In one quick move, he scooped you off the ground, your weight nonexistent in his steady arms. You wanted to argue but the physical and emotional exhaustion left you shaky and unsteady. Instead, you buried your blushing face against his shoulder, ignoring the curious gaze hovering just above you.

            “Let’s get you out of here,” Shihou said, cradling you close as he carried you back to the mountain.

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(Beauty and the Beast wolves anyone? I'm a sucker for action scenes and protective tropes. Thank you everyone for reading! Glad to see everyone loves Shihou so much!

[chiqelatasblog]

In the Middle Of the Night🌙

-> Ao3 link is here.

-> Part Three is here.

Pairings : Bi-Han/ Sub-Zero x Reader, Kuai Liang/ Scorpion x Reader, Tomas Vrbada/ Smoke x Reader

Author’s Note : Welcome to another long chapter, everyone! 🙌🏻 (It’s about 11k words) Writing from Bi-Han’s perspective was a bit of a challenge, as he wasn’t always cooperative, but I’m proud of how it turned out. As I did with Kuai Liang, I put my own twist on his powers. (He is touch sensitive) Also in this version, I’ve adjusted it so that despite the portrayal in MK1 where Bi-Han doesn’t really see Tomas as part of the Lin Kuei, I’ve changed that here. Sharing the same trauma bonds people more closely, as my therapist once said, so I’m using that here to bond them as brothers!

Hope you enjoy diving into it as much as I did writing it! Happy reading!❤️

.

.

.

In the middle of the night,

Just call my name, I’m yours to tame.

In the middle of the night,

In the middle of the night,

I’m wide awake, I crave your taste.

CHAPTER FOUR : BI-HAN

Bi-Han had never liked to be touched or to touch others.

As a cryomancer, Bi-Han was unaffected by the cold itself. Yet, any touch, no matter how gentle, caused him intense discomfort, akin to frostbite searing through his skin. This peculiar sensitivity, despite his otherwise stoic demeanor, left him feeling isolated and disconnected from those around him. The only exceptions to this rule were Kuai Liang and Tomas, whose persistent presence he gradually grew accustomed to over time.

As the future grandmaster of the clan, Bi-Han knew he had to cope with this discomfort and eliminate any weaknesses that his enemies could exploit, just the thought was enough to make his nerves tense. In order for him to protect and maintain the future of his clan, he had to be perfect; he could not have a weakness. It was impossible for him to make mistakes like others because, at the end of the day, he would be solely responsible for the cost.

The temple of his clan, where he had spent every day since he first opened his eyes, was nestled among the mountains, at the edge of the forest, surrounded by towering rocks and fortified walls. Despite the bitter chill of the morning frost, Bi-Han emerged from his room before the sun had even begun its ascent, his cryomancer abilities shielding him from the biting cold that would incapacitate others. Today, the weather was particularly tumultuous, with fierce winds howling through the mountain passes, a harbinger of the impending snowstorm. Despite the harsh conditions, Bi-Han sought comfort in the discipline of his training, finding strength in the knowledge that one day he would inherit his father’s legacy and rule the clan with honor and power.

His hands sometimes fell apart because he worked long hours, his wounds bled nonstop for several days, his legs sometimes trembled, contracted, and ached from fatigue, but Bi-Han turned a blind eye to all of them. Although it is a fact that he was cruel to everyone, he was even more cruel to himself. The relentless pursuit of flawlessness drove him to push his body beyond its limits, disregarding the signs of strain and injury. It was as if his own well-being mattered little in comparison to the unyielding demands of his ambition.

More machine than man, Bi-Han’s focus was solely on the future of his clan and the welfare of his brothers. As an assassin, emotional bonds were his greatest vulnerability and also a liability; enemies could use them as weapons against him. Despite this, Bi-Han made exceptions for Kuai Liang and Tomas. In the earlier days, he was wary of Tomas, seeing him as an outsider not yet fully integrated into the clan. However, Tomas’s unexpected achievements and unwavering loyalty gradually took him by surprise, earning his trust. However, Bi-Han never openly expressed his true feelings to either of his brothers. Emotions were shackles to him, vulnerabilities to use against him. He became adept at burying his emotions, concealing them beneath a facade of stoicism. Instead, he pushed their limits and often subjected them to his sharp tongue, all in the name of unlocking their full potential. Though he understood the underlying rationale for his strictness, Bi-Han avoided dwelling on it, choosing instead to bury those feelings deep within.

This transformation permeated his entire being over time. People shied away from confronting him, even avoiding making eye contact. Like his powers, his demeanor grew as frigid and merciless as ice itself. He concealed all traces of fear, weakness, and humanity behind the impenetrable walls he erected, never once allowing himself to glance back in their direction. The weight of leadership, burdened with its responsibilities and grim tasks, further solidified his detachment.

The day Bi-Han was appointed as the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei was etched in his memory like a knife drawn on ice. The flickering torchlight cast long shadows across the courtyard, the wind howling through the mountains, and everything cloaked in an icy chill. With the loss of his father’s life, his heart beat strongly in his chest as he officially took on his responsibility in a simple ceremony before the clan elders. He had worked for this moment for years, and now as he stood amidst the frozen landscape the satisfaction he felt was unlike anything he had ever experienced. As he accepted the leadership mantle, Bi-Han vowed to preserve the clan’s traditions, to lead with wisdom and strength, and to protect its heritage against all odds.

But everything changed during their ill-fated mission to retrieve Quan Chi’s amulet. Bi-Han had always believed the trials he faced were diffucult, the stress thickening the walls he had constructed while honing his coping mechanisms. He often forgot he possessed feelings at all. Yet being ensnared as a love slave within the pages of a book presented a trial unlike any other he had encountered before.

Bi-Han contorted in agony as searing pain enveloped his body, his heart and mind consumed by swirling darkness. Despite his fierce resistance, the curse proved relentless, its cruel grasp tightening with each passing moment. Every fiber of his being screamed in protest as he fought against the overwhelming force, but it was as if he battled against an invisible, unyielding foe. As he writhed in torment, Bi-Han felt the tendrils of his sanity slipping away, replaced by an insatiable hunger beyond his control. In that moment, he knew he was no longer the master of his own fate, but ensnared by the caprices of lust—a fate more tormenting than death for a man who had spent his life mastering the art of control.

Bi-Han initially fought with every fiber of his being, honed as he was in the ways of an assassin since childhood. Taking a life had become as natural as breathing for him; he executed his duties without hesitation, always looking forward without a flicker of remorse. But this situation was unlike any other. Despite his desire to confront and overcome this weakness, physical contact had always unsettled him. The myriad sensations overwhelmed him, hindering his ability to focus and defend himself.

The relentless persistence of the curse, turning this discomfort into a constant torment, pushed Bi-Han to his limits as never before. Like he always did, he also concealed this vulnerability, never allowing it to surface and be used against him. Yet now, this situation had brought about an unforeseen consequence; nearly every master of the book who came and went sought to “tame” him.

Bi-Han was well aware of his challenging temperament, he bared his teeth, lashed out with insults, refusing to allow anyone to assert control over him. He was not a possession to be claimed; he was an assassin and the grandmaster of an esteemed clan, determined to safeguard his reputation and honor at all costs. However, the curse spared no effort in testing him, as it did in all things.

Given his heightened sensitivity to touch, fulfilling their desires proved more difficult for Bi-Han compared to his brothers. Coupled with his abrasive personality, he inevitably stood out as the outlier among them. Most of the masters relished the challenge of attempting to tame him. Despite his burning desire to unleash his fury upon them and spill their blood, the protective barrier surrounding them thwarted his efforts each time, leaving him writhing in agony.

He refused to be controlled like a mindless animal, he would sooner take his own life than submit. It was not in his nature to surrender without a fight, to yield until his last breath. This defiance was quickly understood, but when the punishments were directed at his brothers instead of himself, Bi-Han found himself compelled to submit, despite the vehement protests of his soul.

The methods used to tame him differed from those employed with Tomas and Kuai Liang. Bi-Han lacked the knowledge of how to navigate intimate interactions, particularly with the opposite sex. His life had been consumed by rigorous training and duties, leaving no room or desire for physical contact. After all he had always recoiled from touch, never seeking it or showing any curiosity about it. Focusing proved exceedingly difficult for Bi-Han, especially initially, as he struggled to regulate his body temperature. Prolonged contact resulted in searing pain and burns on his skin.

In the room, two women surrounded him, one beneath him as he drove into her with hard, fast thrusts, eager to end the encounter as soon as possible. The other, his current master, positioned herself behind him, her arms coiling around his body like a serpent, her hands grasping his pecs and trailing down to his abdomen and upper legs, where his muscles painfully contracted under her touch. She watched him intently, issuing commands to satisfy their pleasure, her tongue tracing along his jawline with small, biting movements. The air was heavy with their mingled scent, their moans grating on his nerves. Sex and sweat permeated the room, each touch searing pain into his skin, overwhelming him and making it difficult to focus. His muscles tensed, veins bulging visibly beneath his skin, and he felt trapped in this hellish place with no means of escape.

Over time, he had learned to grit his teeth, ignore the pain, and maintain control over his body. The burns on his skin had decreased and eventually vanished altogether, yet Bi-Han derived no pleasure from it. The constant tingling sensation, like millions of tiny needles dancing across his skin, persisted, causing him to clench his jaw in frustration. His demeanor grew even more obstinate, his anger simmering beneath the surface. He harbored a particular resentment towards himself for his inability to put an end to the situation. How much longer could he allow his honor to be trampled underfoot? Time continued to pass, yet he remained entrenched in the same place, consumed by turmoil.

His fists clenched tightly at his sides as he surveyed the vast landscape before him. Departing the cramped apartment before sunrise had become routine; he detested confined spaces, and the apartment felt as suffocating as a doghouse. With a determined effort, he forced his nerves to remain steady, inhaling deeply the crisp, cool morning air.

A month had elapsed since their emergence from the book, yet nothing transpired as he had anticipated. He had expected his brothers to exhibit a sense of sensibility, maintaining their customary distance and aloofness, as they did with all other masters of the book, except Leilani. Tomas, the most naive among them, was quick to extend trust and belief, a habit Bi-Han begrudgingly tolerated, especially after the events with Leilani. Yet, Tomas seemed to revert to his trusting nature in your presence, sporting a foolish grin and soft, welcoming gaze. While Bi-Han could comprehend Tomas’s susceptibility due to his youth, he struggled to fathom why the hell Kuai Liang chose to share the same fate. He was logical, cautious, and maintained a calculated distance from others, knowing the dangers his powers could inflict. Although he had mastered control over his abilities, ingrained habits die hard, and Kuai Liang remained vigilant against causing intentional harm beneath his stern demeanor.

The fact that both of them succumbed to your influence, and so swiftly, perplexed Bi-Han. From his observations, your approach mirrored Leilani’s initial demeanor—calm, gentle, and devoid of authoritative commands. Yet, Bi-Han remained convinced it was all a facade, awaiting the moment when you would reveal your true intentions. Patience was not his forte, but once he set his sights on his prey, he would not relent, biding his time for a misstep to expose your true nature. Despite his brothers’ failures, he remained resolute in his distance from you, determined not to fall to the same mistake. He had sworn an oath to end this and had no intention of breaking it. When two months pass, he’ll remain as the sole fortress in this situation, committed to restoring his brothers to their former selves. Whatever game you were playing, Bi-Han was resolved not to allow you to reduce them to rubble. It had happened once before, and he would not permit history to repeat itself.

A few days prior, he had successfully contacted Sektor via your mobile phone. Sektor, one of the clan’s foremost assassins, possessed unparalleled expertise in electronic devices, often partnering with Cyrax on missions. In the ten years since their entrapment within the book, this was the first time Bi-Han had managed to establish contact with them. Contacting his clan had been a daunting task, as previous masters had imposed stringent bans, subjecting them to severe punishment if disobeyed. Enduring the pain himself was one thing, but risking the safety of Kuai Liang and Tomas was another. They had always supported each other, relying solely on their own trust and dependence.

Sektor mentioned that he would come once the connection was established. He wanted to verify for himself if the person who contacted him was truly the grandmaster of their clan, with his brothers, also second-in-commands, accompanying him. Bi-Han couldn’t blame Sektor for his caution; he would have taken the same approach if he were in Sektor’s position.

As the sun slowly cast its warm glow upon the awakening city, Bi-Han rose to his feet. A few blocks away, he silently descended from the rooftop, using the fire escape to make his descent. Despite the passing years, his body still tensed with apprehension at the thought of returning. He refused to acknowledge the draining effects of the curse upon him, despising every aspect of it—his weakness, his submission to its power, his dependency. These traits clashed with the values he had imposed upon himself, and he loathed them to his core.

Upon returning to the apartment, he sought to enter without a sound, wary of your keen senses that could detect even the slightest noise. Your ears were too sharp for a human; you could easily hear him coming and turn your attention to him. Despite his attempts to push you away with his brusque demeanor, you never wavered in your kindness. A plate of food always awaited him, set aside with care, and despite his biting words, you never cast him out or administered punishment. Bi-Han couldn’t comprehend your motives—why weren’t you angered by his actions?

In the days following their emergence from the book, it became apparent that you harbored fear towards him and his brothers. Your movements and speech were cautious, tinged with timidity. However, as time passed, this fear seemed to dissipate, particularly in your interactions with Tomas and Kuai Liang. Though you maintained a distance from him, your influence over him was profound. A single word from your lips could bring him to his knees. Yet, even though you refrained from wielding that power, Bi-Han saw no reason to hold back from testing your boundaries. He yearned for you to reveal your true self, to discard the mask you wore. With each passing day, his nerves stretched taut like an arrow, poised for release.

A deep conversation flowed between the three of you, so engrossed that neither you nor his brothers heard his silent entrance. Bi-Han observed quietly from his position, unmoving. In the kitchen, Kuai Liang and you were preparing breakfast. It was no surprise to see his brother immersed in the task, given his secret interest in food, but witnessing him so relaxed and at peace beside you was an image Bi-Han hadn’t seen in a long time. Meanwhile, Tomas lounged in one of the chairs at the kitchen island, engaged in animated chatter about movies while absently stroking the kitten perched on his lap. The faint strains of music from your phone wafted through the apartment, adding a tranquil ambiance to the scene.

Struggling to contain his anger, Bi-Han gritted his teeth at the sight of his brothers’ expressions. After all they had endured, how could they choose to trust again? Had none of them learned their damn lesson? When they faced the harsh realities of the real world once more, it would be too late. The book had stripped them of their identities as assassins, reducing them to mere instruments for the satisfaction of its owner. This was the bitter truth even if the owner had no desire for them; such was the insidious nature of the book, compelling its wielder to use them.

Despite the cramped confines of the apartment and the thin walls that allowed certain sounds to permeate, Bi-Han detected no indication of intimacy between you and his brothers. Your interactions typically consisted of innocent touches and kisses; he saw no demand for more. However, he knew it was only a matter of time before this changed, as he had witnessed such scenarios before.

Your body would ignite with primal urges, gradually clouding your mind until all you could think of was desire. As you resisted, the need would intensify, evolving from a flicker into an inferno, causing you agony, prompting you to seek relief using his and his brothers’ bodies. Once this barrier was breached, the rest would follow more easily. A few of the past masters, aware of their capabilities, hesitated to utilize them even under the book’s protection. However, when consumed by desire to the point of losing their sanity, they would resort to using their bodies for release, realizing that they wielded true power in such moments. They were no longer individuals with thoughts, wishes, or desires; they were merely slaves to be used at the whim of another. Bi-Han felt dehumanized, reduced to a mere object, easily discarded once his purpose was served.

The first to sense his presence was the pesky cat, leaping from Tomas’s lap in a frantic dash, its tiny legs propelling it as fast as they could go. Bi-Han restrained himself, resisting the urge to freeze the creature in its tracks. For some inexplicable reason, the cat seemed fixated on him, adding to the already cramped quarters of the apartment as he struggled to fend off its insistent attempts to climb onto his lap.

“Bi-Han, when did you get here? Hey, Ninja, wrong way, girl. Come here.”

As Tomas rose to retrieve the cat, both Kuai Liang and you turned, your gazes meeting his. Bi-Han observed the fleeting spark in your eyes, your lips parting as if to speak, only to halt at the last moment, offering instead a timid smile before refocusing on your task. Neither he nor his brothers missed this subtle exchange. While Kuai Liang observed you silently, brows furrowed in contemplation, Tomas’s initial concern flickered briefly in his gray eyes before morphing into indifference tinged with a hint of resentment upon meeting Bi-Han’s gaze.

Cradling the persistent kitten attempting to climb his legs, Tomas muttered softly under his breath, audible only to him.

“This is your doing. Are you satisfied now?”

Bi-Han’s brow furrowed deeply as he absorbed Tomas’s response, a pointed glance conveying his dissatisfaction as a muscle twitched in his jaw. It seemed absurd to feel unsettled now that you were finally grasping his cues. He had grown weary of your saccharine words, always probing if he was alright or offering assistance that he did not seek. Your sincerity failed to sway him; instead, your persistent interference felt like an unwelcome intrusion. So while he should have been content with your quiet acknowledgment, Bi-Han found himself strangely different. It was as if he hadn’t anticipated you relenting and giving him what he desired; instead, he was met with a hollow emptiness.

Instead of responding to Tomas, Bi-Han shoved him with his shoulder and strode past, trying not to indulge in the tantalizing aroma wafting from the kitchen. Judging by what you and Kuai Liang were preparing, it seemed to be an Asian breakfast, the nostalgic scent evoking memories.

“Are you hungry?” Kuai Liang asked, casting a sidelong glance at him. Bi-Han made a small affirmative sound. Among them, he could endure hunger the longest; his metabolism was slower than his brothers’, allowing him to subsist on just water for weeks without issue. Especially after the curse, he often forfeited his meals to Kuai Liang, who needed sustenance more urgently. The strong survived, after all.

However, Bi-Han noticed that his meals were often laced with aphrodisiac-style drugs, subtly altering his senses and clouding his mind. At those moments, it was as if his body was enveloped in a thick fog; his hands and feet became unnaturally heavy, as if weighed down by lead. His senses dulled, his vision blurring at the edges, and his thoughts slowed to a crawl, as if his brain was wrapped in layers of cotton wool.

He resisted eating to avoid vulnerability, refusing to succumb to such manipulation again. Yet, you always reserved a plate for him, untouched by others, even when he abstained for days. It was as if you understood his reluctance and respected his choice.

Almost as though you had read his thoughts, when you put the plate you had prepared in front of him, Bi-Han lifted his head and looked at you again, meeting your gaze. You weren’t looking at him the way you looked at his brothers; it couldn’t be said that you were afraid, but there was a bit of underlying timidity in your gaze and a sadness that he couldn’t understand. In earlier days, Bi-Han was filled with terrible rage because he thought you were pitying him. However, with time and observation, he realized that he was mistaken in this belief.

“Do you want some green tea?” you asked, and Bi-Han silently confirmed. As you turned to prepare it, he felt a slight weight on his leg. Without needing to glance down, he sighed inwardly, ignoring the cat’s plaintive mewls.

“Ninja! Are you gambling with life? Come here.”

“How difficult can it be to control this pest?” Bi-Han remarked, breaking his silence and turning to Tomas, who had been holding the cat.

“Would you believe it’s harder than some of the missions I’ve been on? It’s so tiny, I feel like I’ll crush it if I hold it too tightly,” Tomas replied, eliciting a chuckle from you. Setting down the cup, you moved to pick up the cat, cradling it gently in your arms as it wriggled in protest.

‘’Come here sweetie, your breakfast is here.’’

Bi-Han kept his gaze fixed on you as he took a sip of his tea. Watching you care for the little cat in your arms, he couldn’t deny the sense of peace that settled over the room, despite his reluctance to admit it. The subtle smile on your face, the tender look in your eyes as you cradled the kitten with such delicacy, as if afraid of causing it harm… These details felt genuine and convincing, casting doubt on his previous perceptions of you. Despite the lingering uncertainties swirling in his mind, for a brief moment, Bi-Han entertained the idea of reconsidering them, but quickly dismissed the thought to a remote corner of his mind. With a hardened gaze, he reminded himself that pondering such matters was futile; their time here was limited, and he had more pressing issues to attend to—such as finding a way to put an end to this curse.

‘’Oh, somebody’s pretty hungry,’’ you said with a chuckle, watching the kitten eat with gusto.

‘’When is she ever full?’’ Kuai Liang hugged you from behind, planting a small kiss on your cheek as he observed the cat over your shoulder. Bi-Han struggled to contain his disdain, unable to stomach his brothers’ easy affection for you. Seeing them so tender was unfamiliar; he hadn’t known they harbored such warmth. Tomas was mild-mannered, Kuai Liang a mediator—they both possessed kindness, but this was different. It felt as if he were witnessing something sacred, untainted, and pure.

He also didn’t want to admit it, but looking at both of you, you looked good. Covered by his brother’s arms, you seemed soft and vulnerable, but also well-protected by the muscular arms, shielding you from any harm. You were almost radiating with a gentle warmth, soaking Kuai Liang with the same energy, making him more relaxed than ever.

‘’You’re right, she has an appetite that defies her small body. I’ve started to worry that I won’t be able to keep up.’’ you said with another chuckle, affectionately nuzzling Kuai Liang and placing a loving kiss on his cheek in return.

‘’Can you blame her after what she’s been through on the street?’’ Tomas interjected, popping a slice of peach into his mouth from where he sat.

‘’True, she’s been through a lot,’’ you acknowledged, turning to Tomas with a look that was a blend of sadness and warmth. ‘’But she’s in good hands now.’’

‘’We won’t let her go hungry again, we’ll make sure of that.’’ Kuai Liang affirmed, a gentle smile lighting up his face. The spark in his eyes, so reminiscent of yours, exuded hope and vitality, as if each glance at you reignited his spirit.

Bi-Han listened in silence, his facial expression betraying his inner turmoil. This situation diverged from anything that had defined their lives for years. He could already see his brothers becoming attached to your presence. Your natural demeanor, particularly your smile, never failed to catch Bi-Han’s attention, offering a glimmer of hope he couldn’t dare to believe. He wished he could feel the same; waking up without the curse looming overhead, knowing he could return to his clan, should have been a comforting notion.

‘’You talk as if you’re going to keep this cat here,’’ Bi-Han remarked after a while. There was a brief silence as you wriggled out of Kuai Liang’s arms and reached for your own cup, giving the kitten a final stroke on the head.

‘’She’ll stay here until I find her a good home, but my priority is to help her regain her strength and socialize,’’ you explained gently. ‘‘My budget is barely enough for myself, and I don’t know what will happen if I can’t find a job soon. Unfortunately, I can’t meet the needs of a cat under these circumstances.” There was a hint of sadness in your voice, as if you had already grown attached to the little creature and were reluctant to let go. Bi-Han’s gaze shifted to the kitten, standing a little apart from you.

The kitten was indeed tiny, easily overlooked if one wasn’t careful where they stepped. Yet, it possessed a courage that belied its size. Despite Bi-Han’s imposing stature and deep voice, the kitten persistently sought his attention, jumping at his ankles, meowing, doing everything to engage him. Its bravery reminded Bi-Han of you, actually— despite the biting words he hurled at you, you still sought help, a notion he struggled to comprehend. After all, they were total strangers to you, and there seemed to be nothing to gain in return. On the contrary, you stood to lose the power and control you had over them, something coveted by many but attainable only by you.

It seemed unbelievable that you would willingly abandon this control.

***

You left the house a short time ago for another job interview that you found couple days ago. They were all aware of your situation before you mentioned that the budget was tight. Even though there was a brave smile on your face, trying not to show your distress, Bi-Han could see all too well the underlying worries, as could his brothers. You weren’t as adept at hiding it as you thought you were.

That’s why Tomas and Kuai Liang decided to take advantage of your absence and left the house right after you did. Since you gave them unlimited space to act as they wished, without giving them orders or prohibitions, his brothers decided to ‘shop’ at the grocery store to support you—though their true intention was to steal. Tomas was extremely skilled at it when it came to stealth, thanks to the smoke magic. They wanted it to be a surprise for you when you came home, regardless of whether you got the job or not, to at least put a smile on your face, and they wanted to support you because they shared the house. Bi-Han didn’t even try to stop them or reason with them; he found it quite pointless now. He had realized weeks ago that his warnings were useless. He could only protect himself in this matter.

Although he hoped to enjoy some quiet time alone at home, the pest wouldn’t leave him alone for a moment. As danger signals emanated from all over his body, either the cat was too half-smart to understand it or it didn’t care about the consequences. He didn’t want to lock himself in the study; he was already locked in there when he wasn’t going out. The moment he stepped out of the room, it grated on his nerves to see you and his brothers hanging out without a care, laughing and having fun.

When the kitten continued to cling to his ankles, squealing for the last five minutes without stopping, with a sound so thin that it almost bled his ears, Bi-Han growled, crouched down quickly, and grabbed the cat by the neck, lifting it to eye level with him. “What?! What do you want?” When the words burst from his lips almost like a roar, the silence he had longed for covered the room.

While the kitten stared at his face speechlessly, Bi-Han also breathed deeply and met the cat’s gaze. But then something unexpected happened, when the cat started purring loudly and rubbed its small head against his chin, this time Bi-Han remained absurdly motionless. He shuddered with a strange feeling when the soft fur touched his chin. It wasn’t hatred, but it was unfamiliar. It was the first time he had come into contact with a pet since childhood.

“So, this is what it takes to keep you quiet, huh?’’

The kitten let out a mew as if she understood his words, rubbed her head against him a little more, and when she started purring louder, Bi-Han felt the edges of his lips curl up to form a smile. Just like Tomas said, the kitten was tiny between his long fingers and his big hand. It was so easy to hurt her; he could have ended her life instantly with a little squeeze of his hand. But instead of doing this, without stopping the kitten’s purring for a moment, he pushed her small, soft, and imperceptibly light body into the area between his neck and shoulder, surprising even himself.

With the comfort of no one seeing him, Bi-Han collapsed on one of the seats and started stroking the little body with his other hand that was not holding the kitten. His actions were probably too careful to be funny to an outsider; he avoided ending the cat’s life for the slightest mistake because the possibility of this was quite high. Bi-Han didn’t know how long he had been sitting on the couch like that. When the kitten’s purring gradually decreased and finally stopped completely, he took her back into his lap to see her sleeping body.

The only place that was white on her body, covered with black fur, was her eyes, which was a funny detail, creating the impression that she was wearing a mask. Her ears, which had been huge at first, were now standing more proportionally on the top of her head as she gained weight. With her tiny nose in a triangle shape and pink paws underneath, curled up like a ball on his hand, sleeping deeply, Bi-Han couldn’t help but be surprised that this little animal had trusted him despite everything.

At that moment, when the front door swung open with a deafening crash, Ninja jolted upright, her fur bristling as she leaped from his lap to seek shelter behind the seat. It couldn’t have been you or his brothers who came; none of you had ever opened the door with such force before, as if intent on shattering it.

As an old silhouette, one that Bi-Han hadn’t laid eyes on in a decade, crossed the threshold accompanied by a dozen assassins, Bi-Han’s eyes widened imperceptibly. Yet, amidst the initial shock, a sense of familiarity washed over him, like finding an anchor in the stormy sea of uncertainty. Sektor’s presence, along with the assassins bearing the emblem and colors of their clan, brought a surge of relief, as if Bi-Han had finally returned to the familiar grounds of home, sense of belonging and reassurance, the tension that had gripped his shoulders for so long finally beginning to ebb away.

“Grandmaster,” Sektor greeted with a sharp inhale, leading the group in a respectful bow before Bi-Han. “It’s been too long.”

Sektor’s face bore the familiar features Bi-Han remembered, albeit with a slightly bushier and longer beard peppered with white streaks, his black hair pulled back tightly with strands of gray weaving through the dark locks. The passage of time was evident in the wrinkles near his eyes, a silent testament to the years that had slipped by in his absence. With an incredulous expression on their face, Bi-Han gestured for them to raise their heads as they greeted him. He briefly embraced Sektor, one of his right-hand men and a loyal friend, feeling a sense of familiarity and trust in his presence.

‘’You found the apartment spot on.’’ he said as he stepped back.

‘’I followed the signals from the phone with which you contacted us, and it led us to the woman you mentioned,’’ Sektor explained, gesturing to one of the men behind him with his head. ‘’She put up quite a struggle.’’

As the group of seven split into two, revealing you with an assassin gripping your arm, Bi-Han’s heart clenched at the sight of your distressed form. Your eyes widened with fear, unshed tears glistening, while blood trickled from your lip and purple fingerprints adorned your throat. The desperation in your eyes struck him deeply, igniting a fierce protective instinct within him. He didn’t even grasp how it happened; one minute ago, he felt a deep-rooted sense of belonging after seeing his clan members in front of him. But now, seeing you shaken and hurt because of him, he felt a surge of emotions he didn’t know he had. He couldn’t understand why. Why was he feeling this way? He should feel relieved, since the book only protected you before them, not from the outside world. It was a possibility that you could get hurt. But now, it didn’t sit well with him. You didn’t deserve this treatment from him or his men.

‘’Release her,’’ Bi-Han growled, his voice laced with authority, anger and a little bit of protectiveness. When the assassin hesitated, Bi-Han seized their wrist and forcefully pulled you towards him. You were startled by his grip, his touch either too cold or perhaps the recent events had left you shaken. Whatever the reason, it prompted you to avoid his gaze, focusing instead on the ground beneath you. In that moment, Bi-Han anticipated the familiar pain that usually accompanied touching skin, however, to his surprise, all he encountered was the remarkably soft and sensitive skin beneath his fingers.

“Bi-Han,” your voice, usually moderate and friendly, trembled with fear, resembling a fading whisper. ‘’Let me go, please. I just want to retreat to my room.’’

Even after everything, you were still pleading instead of demanding or seeking vengeance for the harm inflicted upon you. Standing there, head hung low and trembling slightly in his grip, the quiver in your voice as you implored him to let you retreat to your room—all these details spoke volumes. They revealed a vulnerability that struck Bi-Han sharply. In that moment, it dawned on him with startling clarity. Perhaps, from the very beginning, your actions had been genuine, and this moment was the ultimate test to reveal your true nature. It was a realization that left him reeling and cast doubt on his previous assumptions about you.

The timbre in your voice, your posture, or whatever it was, made Bi-Han pull his hand away from you as if it had been burned. Throughout the whole encounter, you hadn’t lifted your head once, and as you quietly passed into your room without a word, Bi-Han was at a loss for what to do with the emotions that were rising up inside him.

“Grandmaster?” Sektor’s voice interrupted his thoughts, and when Bi-Han turned his gaze back to the others, he saw them watching him carefully. “Did we do something wrong?”

“Wait here, I’ll be right back,” Bi-Han replied, avoiding a direct answer. “And be careful not to step on the cat.’’

With those words, he followed after you. When he looked through the partially open bedroom door, he saw you sitting on the end of the bed, your back facing him. He knocked once to announce his presence and then entered without waiting for your response. Startled, you glanced over your shoulder, an old T-shirt in one hand as you dabbed at the wound on your bleeding lip. You appeared small, vulnerable, and innocent, tears streaming down your cheeks silently. Your expression bore a sadness that tugged at his heartstrings, catching him off guard.

As Bi-Han closed the door behind him and stepped inside, you tried to wipe away your tears with a sniffle. “I didn’t know you hated me this much,” you said, your voice hoarse with emotion. Another tear crept down your cheek, and Bi-Han felt a pang of guilt wash over him at the sight of your despair.

“My orders were not in that direction. There was a miscommunication. I only asked them to come here, not to hurt you.” Bi-Han explained, though even to his own ears, his words sounded unconvincing amidst the swirling emotions he couldn’t quite grasp.

You must have been thinking the same thing too, so you didn’t answer him. Instead, you lowered your gaze, and a heavy silence settled between you. This situation bothered Bi-Han more than he expected. He had never cared much about what you thought of him until this moment. Now, he didn’t want any misunderstandings to grow, nor did he want you to think that he could give a command to harm someone defenseless. Another detail that bothered him was your demeanor; it was different from what he was accustomed to. You looked defeated, your shoulders slumped, as if trying not to take up too much space on the bed. Despite his words or his actions, there was always a flicker of light in your eyes, a desire to fight, but now it seemed extinguished. You seemed resigned, as if you had emerged from a battle knowing you couldn’t win.

‘’Show me your wound.’’ said Bi-Han, breaking the tense silence. You looked at him with a puzzled expression, clearly not expecting him to speak.

‘’It’s not a big deal. I can handle it. It would be better if you don’t keep them waiting.’’ you said kindly.

‘’Don’t tell me what to do,’’ Bi-Han growled, his voice taking on a contrary tone. Once again, you averted your gaze and shrank back, as if trying to disappear. Bi-Han cursed himself silently; he was too accustomed to speaking aggressively. Instead of further escalating the tension, he sat down beside you and ,as gently as possible, lifted your chin to examine your wound. Bi-Han had been expecting pain, but to his surprise, he felt the same softness and warmth of your skin as before. There was no biting pain or discomfort. It was unexpected and strange. Turning his gaze back to you, he found you watching him.

‘’Give me what you’re holding and stand still,’’ he said, attempting to soften his voice. You complied silently, handing over the T-shirt. As he applied pressure to your wound to stop the bleeding, he noticed you take a sharp breath.

‘’Does it hurt?’’

‘‘A little,’’ you replied softly. Bi-Han clenched his jaw, still feeling your nervous gaze on him as he tended to your wound with a care he didn’t know he possessed.

‘’Why do you hate me?’’

‘‘If I hated you, I wouldn’t be doing this right now, would I?’’ Bi-Han responded, his tone firm yet tinged with something softer. You took a shaky breath, your voice carrying a hint of innocence and hope that tugged at his heart.

‘’So you don’t?’’

Bi-Han didn’t answer, his eyes trailed to the purple fingerprints on your throat. Sektor had applied too much force. Anger surged within him at the sight of your injuries. You didn’t deserve this. Seeing you filled with fear in your own home where you should feel safe the most, blood on your lip, marks on your throat… Bi-Han had been trained to bear the weight of his responsibilities, but looking at you now, his conscience gnawed at him like never before. He should have foreseen Sektor’s aggression and prevented this. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to admit it out loud.

Before he could say anything, the sound of his brothers entering interrupted the moment. You exchanged a glance, then Bi-Han’s gaze lingered on the door.

‘’I think you’d better go,’’ you said again, your voice feather soft and light. Despite the fading fear on your face, you still looked vulnerable, like a fragile trinket that could be easily broken.

‘’I don’t trust you, but I don’t hate you,” Bi-Han said suddenly, the words escaping before he could fully process them. Your eyes widened in surprise at his unexpected admission. Something about your presence in that moment had prompted him to speak. “I hate this situation I’ve fallen into,” he continued, his voice tinged with years of pent-up frustration. “The power you have over us, this dark magic, the book, everything.” Then without waiting for your response, Bi-Han rose from his seat and walked out of the room, refusing to look back. He needed space to process his emotions, to distance himself from the turmoil that surrounded him. As he entered the living room, he found Tomas, Kuai Liang, and Sektor engrossed in conversation. Relief washed over his brothers’ faces at the sight of Sektor, and Bi-Han knew they were glad to see a familiar face after so many years. Noticing his presence, Kuai Liang turned to him.

‘’Why didn’t you tell us you had contacted Sektor before?’’ He asked, his tone more curious than reproachful.

“Your attention wasn’t quite suitable at the moment.”

Both of his brothers frowned, understanding the implication. Tomas’s gray eyes scanned the room briefly before settling on him again.

“Where is she?” He inquired, his brows furrowing further.

‘’In her room.’’ Bi-Han replied.

Tomas’s expression darkened, and he rose from his seat, his eyes narrowing as he headed towards your bedroom. Bi-Han stopped him by grabbing his arm.

‘’You should know there was an incident.’’

Tomas’s head snapped towards him then, anger clearly evident in his expression now.

‘’What are you saying-‘’

‘’Tomas?’’

When you peeked out from your bedroom, Tomas’s words hung in the air, left unfinished as he caught sight of your appearance. Bi-Han silently observed Tomas’s reaction as he swiftly reached your side. Sensing your hesitation to open the door fully, Tomas instantly noticed and, with a suppressed growl, swung the door wide open.

‘‘Who did this to you?’’ he demanded, his voice laced with pure anger.

Upon hearing Tomas’s question, Kuai Liang sprang from his seat and darted past him like a gust of wind. Bi-Han watched as his brother approached you with a kindness he had seldom seen in Tomas before, tenderly cupping your face in his palms and inspecting the wound on your lip with his thumb.

‘“I’m fine, guys. It’s nothing, really. It doesn’t even hurt.” you said, attempting to reassure them.

“Bi-Han mentioned there was an incident,’’ Kuai Liang interjected, shooting Bi-Han a knowing look before turning his gaze back to you. Bi-Han watched as the hard edge in Kuai Liang’s brown eyes softened with concern as his fingers traced the purple marks on your neck. ‘‘Tell us what really happened.’’

Your eyes darted to his, filled with desperation, as if searching for the right words. Given that you seemed to have Kuai Liang and Tomas wrapped around your finger, they were inclined to believe whatever you said, no matter how absurd or hard to believe. A clear example of this was just a few weeks ago when Tomas confronted him on your behalf. Yet, there was a palpable sense of caution in your demeanor, as if you were treading carefully to avoid escalating the situation or triggering them further.

‘’I-I…It’s just-‘’

‘’I contacted Sektor through her phone,’’ Bi-Han interjected, unable to bear the helpless expression on your face any longer.Sektor also joined him halfway through, taking charge and completing the explanation.

‘’I’m sorry for hurting you,’’ Sektor apologized, his gaze fixed on you nestled between the protective arms of his brothers. Stepping forward, he bowed as a form of apology. ‘’I thought you were responsible for their absence.’’

‘’No harm done, really. You don’t need to apologize,’’ you said, panic and embarrassment evident in your voice. ‘’I was just a bit scared. I mistook you for Quan Chi and his men at first, so I was hesitant to answer and didn’t want to cooperate.’’ As you speak, Bi-Han observes your expression closely, noting the shift from fear to relief as Sektor apologizes, his sincerity reassures you.

‘’You thought he was Quan Chi?’’ Kuai Liang asked softly, gently caressing your face. You offered him a small smile and nodded in confirmation. Tomas joined him, planting a loving kiss on your cheek.

‘’You could have been seriously hurt,” Tomas said, his tone now tinged with awe and kindness rather than anger, reflecting the concern he felt towards you. His gaze softened as he looked at you.

‘’I just wanted to protect you,’’ you whispered, your voice laden with emotion. Bi-Han felt something stir within him at your words, a feeling he couldn’t quite name. He had imagined you must have been scared when you encountered Sektor, but mistaking him for Quan Chi and still trying to protect them… it was different. No one had ever shown such bravery to him or his brothers before. They had never needed it, and they were too proud to admit otherwise. Moreover, you didn’t even know how to protect yourself, yet you still resisted until you realized who Sektor was. It was foolish, yet admirable. The courage you displayed, even in fear, was something not everyone possessed.

Bi-Han understood better at that moment why his brothers were so fond of you.

As they returned to the living room, Bi-Han recounted the events, with his brothers occasionally adding their own insights. He wasn’t sure how many hours had passed; after all, they had been absent for ten years, and it must have taken them hours to catch up on the clan’s affairs. Throughout the conversation, Bi-Han remained seated in his usual spot, while you held Ninja on your lap, nestled under the seat after you reached out to her. You were installed next to Kuai Liang, while Tomas and Sektor occupied seats opposite you.

He was relieved to learn that the clan had remained steadfast since the day they were cursed. Sektor and Cyrax had worked diligently to maintain order and uphold traditions. In fact, Sektor mentioned that their numbers had increased slightly, and their training had become more comprehensive.

Once there was nothing left to discuss, Bi-Han spoke up once again. ‘’I want you to contact Lord Liu Kang. If anyone can lift this curse, it’s him,’’ he instructed.

‘‘Won’t you come back with us?’’ Sektor’s surprise was palpable. ‘’Everything’s ready, Grandmaster. Just give us the command.’’

Bi-Han yearned to return to his homeland, to the land where he belonged, where he was born and raised… But he had to consider the bigger picture. It was impossible for them to stay away from you for long due to the curse. If you came with them, you would be vulnerable to their enemies, who might exploit you to harm the clan. Bi-Han wanted to keep this situation as secret as possible, at least until a solution was found.

‘’It’s best if the curse remains discreet between us. The sooner you reach Liu Kang, the better.’’

“But brother—‘’

‘’They can use her as a means to reach us,’’ Bi-Han interjected, cutting off Kuai Liang. When his gaze shifted to you, a guilty expression flashed across your face, as if you felt responsible, and you quickly averted your eyes. Bi-Han cursed himself silently for yet another misunderstanding. ‘’It’s for the best, for all of us. If Liu Kang can’t find a solution, return here in two months and retrieve the book. I want us to remain within the clan thereafter.’’

‘’As you wish, Grandmaster,’’ Sektor replied obediently.

***

A few days had passed since Sektor’s visit. The scar on your lip had almost disappeared, and the fingerprints on your throat had turned into a pale yellow stain. The memory of your expression upon seeing the amount of food that Tomas and Kuai Liang had bought—enough to feed a small African tribe—remained vivid in Bi-Han’s mind.

‘‘What is all this?’’ you asked, your cheeks slightly flushed with excitement. Tomas scratched the back of his head bashfully, while Kuai Liang pulled you close with a gentle arm around your waist, planting a kiss on the bruises on your neck.

‘’We did some grocery shopping.’’ Tomas replied.

‘’But how?’’ You inquired politely, fully aware of they didn’t have an money, yet the bemused expression on your face was endearing, a blend of amusement and sweetness. Your cheeks held a faint flush, while your eyes sparkled with excitement, reminiscent of a delighted child receiving a cherished gift. Witnessing your joy, Bi-Han was taken aback by how effortlessly you found happiness in such simple gestures.

‘’It would be more accurate to say we obtained it without being seen.’’ Kuai Liang chimed in, taking over the explanation from Tomas. Your raised eyebrow and playful glance prompted a chuckle from him.

‘’So you stole it, did you?’’

‘’Is it stealing if no one saw?’’ Tomas quipped, eliciting a laugh from you that echoed through the small kitchen.

‘’Tomas! That’s exactly what stealing means!’’ you exclaimed, still smiling as you surveyed the bounty of food. ‘’You even got food for Ninja, guys, I can’t believe you! I hope I can fit this much food in the fridge.’’ Turning in Kuai Liang’s arms, you planted a happy kiss on his lips, filling his face with pride and joy. “Normally, theft is never something I would approve of, but I really needed it, thank you.’’ you said, moving to hug Tomas tightly and also kiss him like you did with Kuai Liang.

‘‘We can imagine how difficult it is for you to feed us all at once. We wanted to ease your burden.’’ Tomas explained. In response to his words, the innocence in your smile deepened, and Bi-Han watched as the warmth in your eyes softened further. He had never witnessed anyone gaze at his brothers with such sincerity and purity. Your gestures, your smiles—everything you offered them seemed so natural and genuine. It was as though you held deep affection for his brothers. For a brief moment, Bi-Han found himself contemplating how it would feel if those same tender glances were directed at him. It seemed absurd to entertain such thoughts, as he typically dismissed such sentiments. Yet, in that moment, he couldn’t help but wonder. Had he ever missed something he had never experienced? Was it jealousy, or perhaps longing? The unfamiliar emotions stirred within him, leaving him perplexed yet intrigued.

Shaking off his reverie, Bi-Han sat alone, you having gone out for a walk with Kuai Liang and Tomas an hour ago, leaving him alone with the cat. Glancing at the feline curled up in his lap, he found himself stroking her soft belly absentmindedly. As he sat at his seat, his gaze wandered to the window, where colorful city lights illuminated the evening sky. Below, people bustled about, returning home after a day’s work, while the distant sounds of car engines added to the city’s cacophony.

Suddenly, the cat perked up, alerted by a sound outside. Bi-Han’s attention shifted to the door, where he heard the anxious voices of his brothers approaching. As they entered, Tomas was holding you in his arms, with Kuai Liang in tow. Bi-Han’s brow furrowed as he took in the state you were in.

“What’s going on?”

“She’s not well,” Tomas’s voice was tense, dominated by a helpless and worried expression rarely seen on his face when he felt powerless. Kuai Liang remained silent, his eyes stormy with concern, his jaw clenched so tightly that he was sure his teeth were aching. “While walking in the park, she suddenly doubled over and started holding her stomach, whimpering in pain.” he explained.

“Side effects of the book,” Kuai Liang interjected, his tone tinged with anger. “She’s been experiencing symptoms for a while but hasn’t said anything.”

Bi-Han found himself grappling with disbelief as he processed the situation. Despite a part of him anticipating this moment, he couldn’t comprehend how he missed the telltale signs. Since they showed up at your house, he had always kept his eyes on you. He waited for you to drop your mask, quietly following your every step, scrutinizing your expression with sharp eyes. Perhaps, in hindsight, he was so overwhelmed with details that he failed to see the truth before him. Normally, within a week or so, whoever wielded the book would inevitably use them for their own pleasure.

Initially, the feeling would emerge subtly, like a thin fog in the corner of their minds, not applying pressure but making its presence felt. But as the days passed, this feeling would grow hostile and aggressive, leaving no choice but to use them, as relief could only come that way. Bi-Han had heard this definition before from several different masters, none of whom could endure the escalating wave of pain to the end, especially when the solution was within reach and there were no obstacles.

The fact that you had been enduring this pain silently for a while, and moreover, that you hid it from them without flinching, was something Bi-Han couldn’t reconcile with his logic. Why were you trying to endure this pain?

“I’m all right,” you weakly protested, barely audible amidst the turmoil. Bi-Han’s gaze softened as he observed you, held in Tomas’s embrace. Sweat glistened on your forehead, your face contorted in agony. Despite not touching you, he could sense the fever radiating from your body.

“This can’t continue,” Tomas insisted, concern etched on his features. “We can help you.”

“No,” you managed to gasp in pain, struggling to open your eyes. Bi-Han could see clearly the extent of your suffering, tears lined the edges of your eyes. “I don’t want you to do this because of the curse.”

“We are going to do this for you,” Kuai Liang countered, his voice laced with anger directed at the situation rather than you. However, in that moment, it came out as a snarl.

“Doesn’t matter. After all, I’m in this state because of the curse, and I don’t want you to be put under the same obligation again.”

“Do you want us to stand by while you suffer?” Kuai Liang pressed, his concern palpable.

Unable to speak, your eyes squeezed shut as a whimper escaped your lips, writhing painfully in Tomas’s lap as you began to take deep, labored breaths, resting your head on his chest.

“She’s burning,” Tomas remarked, his voice increasingly concerned. Then, as if a realization dawned on both of them simultaneously, Bi-Han crossed his arms over his chest and gave them a piercing, almost deadly glare.

“No.”

***

He couldn’t comprehend how he found himself lying in bed with you. Moments ago, he was at odds with Kuai Liang and Tomas, and now he lay on your double-sized bed, staring at the ceiling. His logical mind urged him to leave, yet his body remained rooted for reasons he couldn’t fathom.

Turning to where you lay, he observed you from his position. There wasn’t much space between you on the bed. Your body curled into a fetal position, drenched in sweat, causing the sheets beneath you to dampen. You looked so pitiful and helpless, as the only thing you could do at the moment was keep breathing.

“Why are you resisting?” Bi-Han’s voice lacked its usual aggression or coldness, replaced instead by confusion. He couldn’t grasp why you still kept enduring this suffering.

“I want to keep all of you safe,” your fragile voice answered. Bi-Han’s brows furrowed deeper at your response.

“Is it worth enduring this pain?”

“Yes.” Your answer was swift and simple, stirring an ache in Bi-Han’s heart. ‘’I told Kuai Liang that I would offer you a safe space, and I will do so as well. You deserve more than that, but this is all I can do. I don’t want you to do anything that the book obliges.’’

What you thought was insignificant was actually a tremendous sacrifice for their comfort. He was speechless for the first time in his life. He didn’t know what to say, what the right and necessary words were. He had never met someone like you who sacrificed themselves in this way before. As he needed a few seconds to digest what he was hearing, he simply looked at you.

At that moment, Bi-Han heard the answer to the ‘Why’ question that had been spinning in his mind for weeks. Because you cared not only about your brothers but also about him with all his thorns, sharp words, and rude manners. Despite everything, you weren’t keeping him apart from Kuai Liang and Tomas, and you were enduring this pain inside for him as much as you were enduring it for them.

As you writhed in pain, still maintaining a careful distance, Bi-Han realized that what he had been waiting for wasn’t you to drop your mask, but for him to acknowledge your genuine care. You didn’t play games; your sole purpose was to only help. While gaining the trust of Kuai Liang and Tomas, you rejected their assistance, a reaction unfamiliar to him and his brothers. Despite the opportunity for relief, you refused their aid.

With another whimper, you completely crumpled down where you were, and when tears started to flow from your eyes once again, Bi-Han pulled you to himself as he grasped you, without thinking about anything else, along with the emotions that sprouted in his heart. Even though he knew that you would be surprised under normal circumstances, your indifference and continuing to cry quietly while being embraced by him by doing the exact opposite, tugged at his heart strings.

“I’m sorry,” your voice muffled against his neck, yet Bi-Han heard every word. “I know you don’t like me… I’m sorry you had to endure this.’’

“Be silent, woman. You talk too much.” His tone was surprisingly gentle as Bi-Han held your sweat-drenched body against him tightly. A small moan escaped your lips, a sign of relief amidst the pain. Since Bi-Han has always kept his distance from you, you’ve had almost zero contact with him, so in addition to his body being cold, his touch was also more effective compared to his brothers. That’s why, actually, part of the pain you suffered was because of him, that you couldn’t touch him the way you could have touched Kuai Liang or Tomas.

Your body slowly relaxed in his arms, Bi-Han’s hand finding its way under your shirt, offering what little coolness he could. It felt natural to hold you this way, as if it was where you belonged all along.

“Bi-Han…” your voice was soft and vulnerable, triggering his protective instincts. As he rested his chin on top of your head, completely caging you with his arms, your breathing steadied a bit, and the tremors subsided. “You don’t have to do this.” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. Your lips brushed against his throat as you spoke, a detail Bi-Han found himself liking.

“I remember telling you to be silent.”

“I don’t want to cause you any more inconvenience. I’m feeling better, please, you can let me go.” you said, the obvious lie and stubbornness in your voice softening Bi-Han’s heart while simultaneously angering him. He grabbed you by the neck so that he could see your face, and when he lifted your chin up with his thumb, he faced your innocent gaze. All the while his touch was gentle and incredibly cautious, much like when he handled Ninja. You resembled her at the moment, fragile and delicate.

“Under normal circumstances, you can’t force me to do something I don’t want to,” he asserted, his hand tracing from your chin to your temples. As his fingers moved over the lines, a moment of relief washed over you, your eyes closing briefly in response. Bi-Han found solace in providing you with comfort, a departure from his typically cold demeanor that often left others chilled rather than soothed. “This is one of those rare instances.” When Bi-Han whispered the last part towards your lips, your eyes opened, and you suddenly looked at him with so much emotion that Bi-Han felt his breath getting smaller and clogged in his throat. He could see his own reflection in your eyes.

‘’I have been cruel to you, even though you did not deserve it.’’ His confession enveloped the room like a heavy blanket, yet Bi-Han didn’t feel suffocated beneath it. On the contrary, he felt a sense of relief, as if he had shed a bit more of the burden he carried. When his gaze shifted from your lips back to your eyes, he couldn’t help but feel a pang in his heart at the profound understanding reflected in them.

‘‘You had your reasons, it’s okay.’’ You said it with your usual forgiveness. ‘’I have not given up hope for you.” Despite everything, when you managed to put a small smile on your pain-weary face, Bi-Han felt that his heart was being suppressed inside his rib cage, as if it was being squeezed from both sides. How pure your heart was, so full of kindness that Bi-Han started to feel like absolute shit when he thought about the times he hurt you so many times.

‘’You make me feel things I’ve never felt before.’’ He said after a moment, his brow furrowing slightly as he spoke.

‘’Is that… a bad thing?’’ You said in a timid voice.

“No,” Bi-Han said without hesitation. “It’s something I never thought possible until now.” He had buried his feelings so deeply that now, as they began to surface, distinguishing and naming each one became a daunting task. He felt overwhelmed by them, but refusing to ignore them any longer felt like the only honorable choice, especially after witnessing your endurance of pain on their behalf.

While he seethed with frustration towards his brothers, he never anticipated finding himself in the same predicament as them. Typically, he’d be harsh on himself for failing to maintain his vigilance. Even before assuming leadership of the clan, he embodied the role of the older brother, a figure of experience and protection, standing resolute where they faltered.

Yet, as he observed you, he teetered on the edge of conflicting emotions. You touched a part of him that had remained untouched, your essence reaching deep into his soul. Physically fragile you may have been, but your heart—your heart was a beacon of forgiveness and strength. Your presence illuminated every space you entered with a comforting warmth, a stark contrast to his reserved attitude.

Despite this, a part of him resisted. A lifetime of emotional barricades made him wary of letting anyone in, fearful of disrupting the balance he’d maintained. If Liu Kang couldn’t find a solution to the curse, he was doomed to lose you. Did he really want to take this risk despite knowing the inevitable outcome? As he looked at you, the answer became clear in his mind. Though brief, even if it were to end eventually, Bi-Han yearned to taste the light before returning to eternal darkness. You were a rarity, a once-in-a-lifetime encounter he couldn’t bear to reduce to a mere ‘wish’. No, he wished to imprint every moment, every sensation of you, onto his memory. The desire boiled within him, igniting his veins like wildfire, as his gaze once again descended from your eyes to your lips.

‘’Throughout my life, I’ve learned to be self-sufficient, prioritizing my clan above all else and neglecting my own desires. It’s become second nature, so much so that I didn’t realize what I truly needed until this moment.” His thumb grazed your lower lip, a gesture filled with longing. “It’s you,” Bi-Han declared, his voice echoing with a possessive growl that emboldened him. “I want to taste you, to feel you. I need you.”

Your expression softened even further, a tired yet content smile gracing your lips. “I’m here.” Those words were all Bi-Han needed to act. As his lips met yours, he felt the warmth radiating from your body, a heat he was determined to temper. Your kiss was slow and tentative, your movements guided by exhaustion and lingering pain. Bi-Han welcomed your presence, relishing the sensation of your lips against his. He felt every subtle shift and curve; your lips were so much softer than he ever could imagine, delicate like butterfly wings. Your taste was intoxicatingly sweet and warm, tinged with the fever that had consumed you, yet achingly innocent.

It felt like stepping onto solid ground after sailing through a raging storm, finally finding a peace and comfort he had never experienced before. It felt like returning home, to where he truly belonged—welcoming, gentle, and forgiving.

“Bi-Han,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, as if afraid to disturb the delicate moment. Pulling back slightly, you sought to catch your breath, your lips brushing against the tip of his chin in a tender kiss. Nestling your head against the crook of his neck, your hand resting gently on the side of his neck. “Thank you for trusting me enough to give me a chance.” you murmured, your words laden with sincerity.

Then, as if on cue, your body grew heavy, slipping into the embrace of sleep. Careful not to disturb you, he adjusted your position to ensure your comfort, his hand instinctively finding its way to gently stroke your hair. It felt natural, as if he had been doing it all his life, bringing him a sense of peace he had long yearned for.

“Trust, huh,” Bi-Han whispered to himself, his voice barely audible in the quiet room. It struck him then that this was exactly what he was offering you in this moment. As you lay peacefully, surrendering yourself to him, Bi-Han couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. Everything felt so right, so true, in this moment with you. If breaking his oath was the price to taste this peace, he was willing to pay it. His decision was made the instant he lay down beside you, even if he couldn’t bring himself to admit it.

As your skin gradually returned to its normal temperature, Bi-Han found comfort in the gentle contact. Your touch, a testament to your presence, was undeniably soothing. It carried a silent promise of healing, a balm for the wounds inflicted by the curse. Like the calm waves of the morning sea caressing the shore, your essence enveloped his soul, offering comfort and reassurance. The rhythm of your breathing, the soft glow of the lamp, the weight of your body against his—all of it contributed to a sense of serenity that permeated the room. For a moment, Bi-Han allowed himself to relax fully, succumbing to the tranquility that surrounded him. With a sense of surrender, he closed his eyes, trusting that his brothers would keep watch and ensure your safety for the hours ahead.

He had harbored a lifelong aversion to physical contact, but now, as he yearned to etch into his memory the sensations evoked by your touch, along with every intricate detail, he realized that touching could bring comfort and pleasure instead of pain.

And it was all because of you…

***

Author’s Note : As you can see, Bi-Han was a virgin before being sealed inside the book, due to his strong aversion to physical touch… But! He’s in good hands now. Welcome to the party, Bi-Han, albeit a bit late. Better late than never, right? By the way, Bi-Han sees the reader as non-threatening, which is why her touch doesn’t hurt him at all, but he isn’t aware of this. Subconsciously, he’s reacting this way, and it’s only with his brothers where he truly feels safe. Reader is now a part of that inner circle.

See you in the next chapter! 🥰

[mediumgayitalian]

fic rec friday 13

hi!! welcome to fic rec friday. every week, i pick five fics i have bookmarked and rec them with a little review. check them out!

I Need A Hero by @theroyalsavage

The "Nico is a superhero, Will is a med student" AU nobody asked for or wanted.

OBSESSED WITH THIS AU OBSESSED WITH THIS AU OBSESSED WITH THIS AU. I AM LOSING MY MIND AND HAVE READ IT SO MANY DOZENS OF TIMES. genuinely one of my top faces like its so fucking GOOD!!! the romcom romance of it all!! makes me lose it!!! the angst of loving someone who is constantly putting himself on the front lines!! the fear of not knowing if he's coming home!! being his healer, holding his life in your hands because he doesn't trust it with anyone else!!!! what if i rioted!!! what if i chewed clean through my ceiling!!!!! what if i swallowed my phone!!!!!!!!!!!!!! what if i clawed my way out of the pit of despair!!!! i am!! gonna!!!!!!!!!!! AHHHHHHHH!!!

2. As If His Hands Were Enough (to Hold an Avalanche Off) by @theroyalsavage

Nico di Angelo has been through enough to know life doesn't always work out the way you plan. But fate is a funny thing, and, in Nico's junior year of college, it hands him salvation in the form of freckled cheeks and a smile like the sun.

OH dude this author is actually everything to me. prepare for an onslaught of their stuff bc i am OBSESSED, but this one especially....oh it's special man. this had me LOSING MY MIND. seph’s acceptance made its way into my devotion scrapbook. never be ashamed of loving anybody….what a fucking thesis. i also ADORED how a) story didn’t end with them getting together, went thru them learning each other too and b) nico didn’t get fixed by dating will. he got fixed by loving himself, something he learned to do by loving will. crying.

3. Of Gods and Men by @theroyalsavage

There is something profoundly strange about the forest behind Will Solace’s new house. The trees, it seems, breathe magic. The truth is this: there are things that the forest hides that humans cannot understand. Nico di Angelo is one of them.

I LOVE PARTICULAR AUS!!!!!! AND I LOVE YOU ROYAL SAVAGE!!!!! dude god nico and mortal will is always gonna knock me flat bc its so canon, you know? will is going to be a consort of a god one day. and to read it in fic has me HOWLING but this one in particular....OH the ending is gonna knock yall flat fr!!! if you like percy refusing immortality for annabeth youre gonna LOVE this!!

4. Kitchen Nightmares by @theroyalsavage

Nico is the owner and head chef of an upscale restaurant in Hell's Kitchen, New York City. There's nothing easy about running a business, especially when you have to juggle an overprotective father, a college-age sister, and a staff about as under control as a stampede. The last thing Nico needs is a rival in the form of the ugliest food truck on the face of the planet. And yet, that's exactly what he gets. Of food fights, fledgling friendships, and Nico di Angelo's stupid little soft spot for Will Solace.

i know ive literally said it like five times now but NO ONE does an au like theroyalsavage idc. dude romeo & juliet but food truck and fancy restaurant?? hello!!!! omg!! i literally sat my ass down and devoured this i could not stop myself. and then i hit the end and started it right back up again. the love without having the space to establish anything….inherent homoeroticism of rivalry…..my heart!!

5. don't wanna be lonely, just wanna be yours by @theroyalsavage

Will Solace, café manager extraordinaire, just wants to coast through their monthly open mic night in peace. He definitely is not banking on meeting a handsome stranger with the voice of the gods and the death glare of a high-ranking member of the KGB. And yet, that's exactly what he gets.

telling someone you’re not even dating you’re in love with them after like five months is insane behaviour will solace i get you 😭😭 he is so real in every scenario all the time like he is genuinely perfect for nico who is equally as insane and deserves someone who is fully obsessed with him. god.

thank you for joining me this friday!! happy reading!!

[howl-arnon]

A formal greetings from me, hello welcome to my blog.

I'm Howl-arnon / my art signature is CCB || My work contains Horror , Blood, Nudity(?) and GORE sometimes

This is definitely NOT a SFW blog, so a heads up for all of you.

I'm an artist and an animator ( only as a hobby ) | Repost my work is ok (But do not impersonate me) w/ Credits would be appreciated

About me: I followed a lot of analog horror, lots of game.. lots of animation. I don't do fanart much but sometimes I might in the fandom I really like.

My YT: https://youtube.com/@ccb_bigg?si=apt0YoyEr4CiQKv8

Also my comms are open! You can check them out here ( if you can only pay via paypal )

( I also accept Buymeacoffee as payment they accept; Credit Cards, Apple Pay, Google Pay, etc.)

To be honest I mostly draw OCS, some characters in some fandom might be an exception but still I am an oc artists so if I stop drawing characters from fandom I hope you understand why.

Currently I'm working on my own project. " Cult in the church "

Yes I have my own project, and I am currently doing a world setting for it. I'm not a writer by any means.. but! I'd like to share some of the prologue.

“ Are you a believer ? ”

You stand there, frozen in your tracks, pretending the answer isn’t already right in front of you... something beyond your grasp. The truth is what you crave—it’s what you’ve always wanted, the very reason you ventured into this forbidden place. It’s tempting, isn’t it? Like an apple hanging just within reach, knowing you shouldn’t take a bite, yet doing it anyway

After traveling through the dense forest for what felt like an eternity, you finally come upon a clearing. And there it stands before you: a massive cathedral. Funny thing is, there’s no trace of it on any map. But there it is, real as anything..

They say ignorance is a sin. If that’s true, you’re already teetering on the edge of damnation, having ignored every warning sign along the way. It’s a flaw in human nature—this insatiable curiosity, always chasing what they can’t comprehend. But it’s that very curiosity, fueled by arrogance, that will be your downfall.

I appreciate every one that read this blog till now.

I've been wanting to do stuff in tumblr since... 2019 I just have the chance now.