lana @saltyabb0tackles - Tumblr Blog

Jul 27

My Moon, My Man | Mohabbot

contains: the pitt au, jack abbot x samira mohan, red riding hood x the wolf, jack abbot needs a hug, jack abbot has two legs (sometimes four,) red riding hood elements, alternate universe- werewolf, fairytale elements, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, age difference, blood and gore, medical inaccuracies, established relationship, eventually smut, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, pull out method, dirty talk (kinda) summary: Every child across the kingdom grew up hearing stories about The Wolf. Some would call it an immortal monster, others would say that the beast was born from a cursed bloodline. Samira Mohan knew those to be half-truths for one, The Wolf was a man. Two, the man was hers. word count: 8.5k read on ao3

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Samira Mohan removed the jars from the shelves and placed them in a crate at her feet. She then dusted the empty shelves and replaced the products. The Healer’s Shop was slow that afternoon so she kept herself busy with odd jobs. She restocked the salves and bandages and replaced the herbal syrups. She peered out the window. The sun had begun to set and chaos was already in motion.

Families herded their children into their horse-drawn carts as shop owners turned their signs and locked their doors. Market stalls closed up for the day. The sellers packed away their unsold goods and secured them under lock and key.

The townsfolk took extra caution during a full moon. For generations, stories of the Wolf haunted the small existing town just outside the kingdom and with it came chaos.

Legend said that the Wolf was a vile creature. A large beast that stood as large as a bear on its own four legs. Thick silver fur covered it's body with red eyes and razor sharp teeth made perfectly for tearing his prey. Every night of the full moon the Wolf would slaughter. He would terrorize the town and its neighboring villages. He would kill anyone in his path. Over the years a trail of bodies lay in his wake. All townsfolk shut down operations early to hide away in their homes until the sun rose again.

No one said to have ever encountered the Wolf lived to tell the tale. The people only knew of appearance through stories and occasional sightings. Hunting parties formed in the past per the request of the Mayor—who got his approval directly from the King. Those who agreed to hunt the Wolf were promised gold and royal titles. However, those in attendance were often killed in their attempts to claim these riches. The bodies were always found by morning—those of who remained anyway.

Samira resumed her closing procedures. She was not nearly as frightened of the tales as most were. Most of the stories were dramatic in order to keep children inside and away from the woods. Samira lived in the woods and people thought her mad for it. To her, the woods were comforting and familiar, it was home.

She looked up to the sound of her shop door opening. The wood craftsman—Michael Robinavitch stood in her doorway and removed his cap.

“And so the chaos begins.” She brushed her hands off on her dress and picked up her empty crate. She walked behind the sales counter and placed it on the shelf.

“Indeed it does Mohan.” He propped his elbows on the counter and scratched his head. “Did you um— pack the essentials for tonight?”

“Do you think me a fool?” She leaned in close. “I must wait for Dana to leave than I’ll grab everything.”

“She’ll turn a blind eye.” He shrugged.

“You clearly don’t know her well at all.”

“Robinavitch.” Dana emerged from the back room. “Don’t you have to get the horses on the road?”

“I only wanted to stop and say hello.” Robby walked back towards the front door. He nodded his goodbye before stepping back out into the streets.

“What was that about?” Dana asked.

“I’m not sure.” Samira shrugged and calmly turned her shop sign to closed.

“Well I’ll be on my way.” Dana bid her goodbye. “See you at sunrise, kid.” She too stepped out onto the dirt road.

Samira lingered in her shop for a while longer. She liked to wait for the crowd to disperse so that she’d have an easy way home. She pulled her basket from beneath the counter and put a variety of salves and bandages. She also threw in a suture kit and a bottle of liquor. The stuff was expensive and hard to come by but Samira kept stock for every full moon. Once her supplies was packed up she did one finally sweep of the shop before she grab her basket and her red cloak from its hook. She secured it around herself before she stepped out of the shop and locked the door.

The town was now deserted. As she wove through the empty market she noticed that several men were on horse back as its center. They held large torches and wore bows and arrows strapped to their backs. They were the King’s new hunters. Men who were too clumsy or too prideful for their own good. They promised to return with The Wolf’s head.

Samira slipped past the new crowd forming. She kept her mind on her path home. Once she arrived at the woods edge she welcomed its peace. A cool breeze passed through the trees and leaves crunched beneath her feet. She took in a breath and began to walk. It was not a terribly long walk but it gave her time to think about the night ahead of her.

A small cottage came into view as the sun dipped below the horizon. Samira lived alone in the cottage. The home belonged to her grandmother and after the old woman passed five years ago, Samira inherited it. After some much needed restoration with the help of her friends the cottage became her home. Flowered vines crawled up the side of the gray stone walls as if to concealed the home from wanderers. Overflowing planters sat by her front door, full of greenery. A porch swing hung to the right of the front door, creaking against the breeze.

Once inside, Samira lit an oil lamp and removed her cloak. She set her basket by the door and made her way to her bedroom. She stripped away her work clothes and changed into something more comfortable. A simple brown dress made of a think cotton. It was perfect for the cold nights. Samira took to her evening rituals before she settled in the living room by the fireplace.

She sighed as her knees sunk into the plush, wool rug. She wrapped a blanket around herself and curled up in front of the fire. She watched the embers dance in the flames. Her eyes grew heavy with sleep. It was dark outside but the moon wasn’t quite at its peak. She had a few hours before she had to go. She laid down and tucked her arms beneath her head before she drifted off to sleep.

Samira awoke with a start. The fire before her was now reduced to ash. How long had she been sleeping? Quick on her feet she peered out the small cottage window. The moon was no longer at its peak. It was quiet possibly several hours pass. Samira cursed herself for falling asleep. She threw water over the pile of ash before she slipped on her cloak and boots. She then grabbed her basket and a lantern before she fled out the door.

The moon’s pleasant glow lit the way for Samira as she raced through the woods. The sound of hooves and voices pricked her ears. She turned mid stride and tripped over a fallen tree. She could only yelp as her body hit the forest floor. Her basket and lantern lay askew before her. The wind escaped her lungs as her face met the rough terrine. Samira gasped for air and listened for what could only be the hunting crew. She pressed herself against the fallen tree with her palm pressed over her mouth to stifle her breath. The sounds grew closer and then paused. She was engulfed in the night and could not be seen. The hunters murmured to themselves before they retreated.

Samira released her breath. She hauled herself up off the ground and pulled the leaves from her hair. She could already feel the sting of a bruise blossoming on her cheek. She looked down at her basket— its contents overturned onto the forest floor. Fortunately nothing was broken so she repacked it with ease. The lantern's flame however, was extinguished in the fall. She picked it up and sighed, she would have to soul rely on the moonlight for guidance now.

She only made it a few steps before something crunched beneath her boot. A metallic scent hit her nose. It was a smell she knew too well. Samira looked down and nearly clasped all over again. Beneath her foot was a severed hand. She looked passed the hand and took in the horrific scene before her. The King’s hunters lay strewn about the forest floor. Some were missing limbs and others had their torsos ripped open. Terror filled the eyes of the dead. The horses were long gone and the weapons lay scattered.

Samira held her breath as she passed through the mess. Five men lay dead around her with missing limbs and deep lacerations across their mangled bodies. Samira could only identify the gashes as claw marks. She snapped herself out of the daze and raced back down the trail.

After what felt like ages a cottage came into view. Behind the cottage stood a much larger building—the craftsman’s workshop. A small oil lamp sat beside the front door. Samira sucked the air back into her lungs before she knocked.

The door cracked open to reveal Robby on the other side. He nodded in acknowledgment before he stepped outside to join her.

“I’m so sorry.” She wheezed. “I fell asleep and by the time I woke up the moon was passed it’s peak and-”

“It’s okay.” The craftsman reassured her. “He just got in a few moments ago.”

She could hear screams come from inside the workshop. “It was a bad night.” She met the man’s eyes.

Robby raised a brow.

“I stumbled across the mess. Five dead and the other two fled on horseback. I couldn’t tell if they were wounded.”

“They probably were.” Robby ran a hand over the back of his head. “I’m sure the search team will find them by morning. Are you ready to go in?”

Samira took in a breath and nodded.

“I’m going to warn you, Mohan. It’s not good—maybe the worst I’ve seen in a long time.” The two stepped inside the workshop.

On the table in the middle of the room lay the Wolf in human form. Jack Abbot lay on his side with a blanket over his lower half. Red splotches of blood coated his skin as black ooze spilled from some of the wounds.

“Jack!” Samira rushed to his side.

“Hey there, Red.” He gritted and attempted a smirk.

She set the basket on the counter behind her and pressed a hand to his head. His burning skin was a stark contrast to her cold fingers. She met his eyes. “I’m going to start assessing, okay?”

He nodded and squeezed his eyes shut.

Samira took in his pale and wounded body. An arrow stuck out of the back his shoulder. She lifted the blanket to see half an arrow in his right thigh. There was a long gash across his abdomen and smaller cuts and bruises littered his torso.

“Arrows dipped in silver.” He grunted. “The bastards are getting smarter. The wounds won’t close and I can’t dig them out myself. I was able to break off the one in my leg though.”

“We’ll get them for you.” Robby came up beside Samira and passed her some tools. “Everything is ready, Mohan.”

“Got it.” Samira knelt down to meet his eyes. “Jack, we’re gonna pull the arrows out okay?”

“We have to dig these out before the poison reaches your bloodstream. It’s gonna hurt.” Robby said.

Jack nodded weakly and closed his eyes. Robby and Samira met each other’s gazes before they began their work and agonizing screams filled the room.

Every full moon Jack Abbot became the Wolf. It was an unfortunate side effect of his family curse. Once the full moon rose in the sky his bones shifted and reshaped beneath his skin in a steady agony. Claws sprouted from his hands and fur prickled his skin. It was the most unbearable process. He was not in complete control as this creature for it was more blood thirsty than he.

Some nights were easier than others. Sometimes he could get off peaceful with no one in his way. Jack would shift, slaughter some animals and return to the shelter of Robby’s workshop. He was Abbot’s oldest friend and more than willing to harbor his true identity. There at the workshop, Jack was given clothes, food, wound care, and a few sacred hours in her company.

Jack had long ago sworn himself to a life of solitude. The curse was a heavy weight to bear and one he preferred to bear alone. The less people he let in, the less people got hurt. Robby was an acceptation as his oldest and only friend. However, Samira Mohan—well, he just couldn’t stay away from her.

Three years before, the Wolf was being hunted. After he narrowly avoided death he got himself caught in a trap. The more he tried to free himself, the tighter the silver chains constricted his hind leg. It cut off the blood flow. He would soon loose both his leg and his window of moonlight. He would change back and the hunters would find him. He would be dead by the nights end.

That’s when he saw her. A stranger in a red cloak approached him with caution. She whispered hushed phrases to him. He couldn’t see her face beneath her hood but her voice was gentle and warm. He snapped and growled in attempt to chase her off but she was relentless in her efforts. He eventually gave into her kindness. She removed the trap from his leg with steady hands. The entire time she whispered soothing words to him. Once released, the Wolf ran into the night and left the woman behind.

“Wait! Come back!” She got up and chased after him.

The Wolf didn’t get far as his injuries were severe. He couldn’t hold off the change any longer. He wasn’t going to make it to Robby’s in time. He braced himself against a tree and shifted back into his human form. His bones adjusted themselves as the claws and fur receded under his skin. He felt the chill of the night air brush against his bare body.

He looked down at his right leg. Imprints of the chains were seared into his flesh. Blood flow started to return to his leg but with it came the opened wound. Black liquid spilled from the gash and onto the ground. He clutched his leg in his hands in an attempt to put pressure on the wound.

When he looked up the woman in the red cloak stood before him. She knelt down and began to ask questions as he faded in and out of consciousness.

“Go away, Red.” He winced. “I’m fine.”

“No you’re not!” She insisted and removed her hood. “Let me help you, please. I’m a healer and I know how to treat this.”

“You know how to treat silver poisoning?” Jack opened his eyes to try and make out her face. His first thought was why would someone so beautiful be so stupid? He took her deep brown eyes, the dark curls that reached her shoulders, the worried expression on her face as she assessed his wounds. She didn’t seem at all bothered by the fact that he was a stranger who just transformed.

“Silver poisoning?” She questioned.

“The chains were made of silver, Red.” He grunted. “It’s how they hurt me. You can leave now if you want. I can already feel my flesh starting to melt away so it won’t be too long before I’m dead.”

“Does your body always react to silver this way? The woman ignored his remark and passed him a cloth from her basket.

“Only when the silver stays in.” Jack accepted the clean cloth and pressed his wound. He watched the gears turn in the woman’s head.

“Okay.” She dug into her basket and pulled out a vile. She then took of the cap and met his eyes. “I have an idea but it’s going to hurt.”

“Whatever you want to do, Red.” His eyes drifted shut.

The woman lifted the cloth from the wound and held her breath as she poured the contents of the vile over the broken flesh.

Jack’s eyes shot open as the liquid seared into his flesh. “What the fuck was that?”

“It will stop the poison from spreading but not for long.” She rose to her feet. “I need light to remove the silver. Is there somewhere we can go?”

“Um-” He drew in a shaky breath. “Robby’s place is a few yards north.”

“As in the wood worker?” She asked.

“Yeah.” He winced and put more pressure on his leg. “He’s expecting me. As a matter a fact he’s probably worried. I was supposed to be there by now.”

“Okay, then.” She pulled the basket high on her shoulder and offered him a hand “Come on.”

Jack’s dark eyes bounced between her outstretched hand and her face. No one besides Robby had offered their help before. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. At the moment he wasn’t given much of a choice. He cautiously accepted her hand and she helped him to his feet. She tucked herself beneath his arm to provide support on his right side.

“I thought you’d be cold.” She gritted.

“I tend to run pretty hot, Red.” He sucked in a sharp breath as pain shot up his leg.

Robby’s cottage eventually fell into view. There Robby assisted the mystery woman in patching him up. Jack thought for sure that she would have just passed him off to the wood worker and flee but she had stayed and he didn’t have the slightest clue why.

After the night the woman started to come around more. Every full moon she’d be waiting with Robby when he returned. She would help patch him up and stick around until she had to return home. He was brash and cold to her at first. He called her Red on account of her signature cloak—even though he knew her real name. He initially kept their interactions few and far between. He was a monster and no one in their right mind would seek out his company.

Samira did though. As time progressed the two formed a relationship of sorts. He soon found himself looking forward to the night of the moon because it meant he had an excuse to see her. Simple conversations bleed into the passing hours and soon became comforting embraces and stolen kisses. He found himself drawn to her company. So much so that he would occasional seek her out on nights besides the full moon.

“This is the last one, okay?” Samira’s hands steadied as she finished sewing the shoulder wound shut. They removed every bit of silver from his body. Robby excused himself to give them some time alone.

Jack sat up right with his legs swung over the side of the table. He winced as the needle pierce his flesh.

“You okay?” Her tone was soft and warm.

“Yeah I’m fine, Red.” He kept his eyes fixed on the floor.

“Alright,” she sighed. “Just one more.”

Peace took the form of her soothing voice. It kept him grounded as the events of the night replayed in his head. The hunters chasing him, the hooves against the ground. The arrows that pierced his flesh. The sounds of bodies hitting the ground as the men were thrown from their horses. The terror in their eyes as he tore their bodies limb from limb. The Wolf led a brutal slaughter. Two men fled on horseback with life-threatening injuries. They would be dead by the morning. Gore painted the forest before him. It was a horrible sight and he quickly fled, unable to bear it any longer.

“Jack?” Her voice echoed in his ears.

He snapped from his daze and looked away. Shame racked his body. He didn’t want her seeing him like this—as this monstrous excuse of a man.

“Jack.” She brushed her thumb over his knuckles. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”

He felt pressure build behind his eyes and released a shaky breath. “I killed them all, Red. I can still taste the blood on my tongue. I can still hear the tearing of flesh and their screams pierced my ears as they begged for their lives. I just couldn’t stop.” A tear slipped from his eye and landed on their joined hands. “They're dead and it’s all my fault. I didn’t want to kill them. I-” His voice broke as more tears fell.

“Hey.” Samira stepped between his legs and wrapped her arms around him—mindfully avoiding his freshly stitched wounds. He buried his head in her shoulder as tears rolled down his cheeks and a quiet sob escaped his lips.

Samira had this way about her. She tore down his walls and left him vulnerable. She was beautiful and kind and he found himself letting her in. He would selfishly seek the comfort that she offered. She could be anywhere she wanted and yet she choose to be in his company. Why she would continuously do so? He did not know. She deserved more than what he could offer. He thought himself a vile, broken creature and she was too good for him.

The guilt of the night was too much to bear—it always was. Jack never enjoyed killing people. He would try so hard not to but his brain would give way to the monster and his control would slip. He tried to run but the men were relentless in their chase and one they shot him the chase was over. He retaliated in the only way he knew how—through bloodshed.

Samira let his silent tears soak her sleeve and spoke softly to him. “I've got you."

“You shouldn’t be here.” He raised his head and cleared his throat.

“Jack don’t start this-”

“I mean it, Samira.” Her true name rolled off his tongue. “I’ve killed people and I'm never going to stop. I’m a monster, a coward and I’ll only end up hurting you too. You're too good for me. I don’t deserve you-”

“Jack.” She cupped his face in her hands. “Stop.” He was spiraling again and she could sense it. Her palm traveled down his bare chest and stopped right over his heart. “They were trying to kill you. You only did what you had to in order to come home.”

There was that word—home. For years, it was a word that held no value and only described the roof over his head or the town that he lived in. In recent years the definition took shape in the woman before him. Home was voice gentle and familiar. It was soft lips and warm brown eyes. It was a vanilla scent and the gentle hands that somehow mended his broken skin and soul.

He reached up and traced the bruise on her cheek. “What happened?”

Samira winced at the contact before she placed her hand over his. “I just stumbled on my way over. I’m okay.”

Jack gave her a look that indicated that he wasn't entirely convinced.

"I promise you, I'm fine." She looped her arms around his neck. "I swear it."

"Swear it?" A small smile passed his lips as his hands found her waist.

"Mhmm." Samira nodded.

He smiled at her, his selfish desires won over the night's sorrows. As much as he didn’t deserve her, he couldn’t help but want her. All of his pain seemed to vanish as she closed the gap between them and brought her mouth to his. They immediately melted into each other. It began slow at first, re-aquatinting themselves with one another after so much time apart. He missed the way that she felt beneath his touch. He missed the little sighed that she'd make as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. He missed the sound of her heart racing as he ran a hand up her spine and cupped the back of her neck to deepen the kiss. A soft groan escaped his lips as she ran her fingers through his damp curls.

He tried to stay away. He tried to give her space. He was no good for her and he knew it well. However, in moments like this, Jack was often reminded why his attempts to stay away failed. She was intoxicating and when she was with him he just couldn’t let her go. She was his comfort in the darkness.

Samira broke from the kiss and pressed her forehead to his. “Come home with me tonight?”

Jack held her gaze. Normally he would argue but the idea of being alone for the rest of the night wasn’t all that appealing.

“Okay.” He released a sigh.

“No argument?” She raised a brow.

“It’s a compelling offer.” He shrugged. “How could I refuse?”

Samira beamed at him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. She gathered her things as Robby entered the workshop. He carried spare clothes, a towel, a bar of soap and a bucket of clean water. Once she finished tidying the workspace she grabbed her basket and turned to face Jack.

"I'll be right outside, okay?"

He nodded before she and Robby stepped outside to give him the space to clean himself up.

Samira looked up at the full moon—it's light still bright in the sky. "He's going back with me tonight." She told Robby.

"Okay." He nodded and crossed his arms. "That's a good idea. He shouldn't be alone. Did he put up a fight?" There were countless times over the years that Samira begged Jack to come home with her and he very rarely said yes. He felt as if he wasn't safe for her.

"No," she attempted to hide her smile. "He didn't."

Robby raised an eyebrow, surprised that his stubborn friend caved to the offer. Although it wasn't a complete shock to him. Samira had this way about her that put Jack Abbot at a complete surrender.

"How long can he continue like this?" She turned to face man. "Every time they come after him it strips away more of his soul. The guilt eats him up inside and to watch him suffer breaks me."

"I know." Robby ran a hand over his face. "We will find a way. Maybe not now, but soon."

Before Samira could counter, the door of the shop swung open and Jack stepped outside fully dressed. A tan lace-up shirt hung loose off his shoulders—hiding his board chest and shoulders. It was paired with loose-fitted brown pants and tattered work boots. His gray curls lay a mess atop his head. He pressed a hand to his abdomen and favored his left leg. The wounds from the arrows would heal slower than the rest.

She cleared her throat. "Can you walk okay?"

Jack nodded—wincing as he limped towards her.

Samira reached out and clutched his bicep. "Are you sure?"

"I swear it, Red." He mustered a smirk and removed his hand from his abdomen to lace their fingers together. "I'll be fine. I just have to get used to two legs again."

"Funny." The women rolled her eyes at the smug look on Jack's face.

Jack turned to shake Robby's hand. "Thanks again, brother."

"Anytime, Abbot." Robby smiled and passed off the oil lamp. "Safe travels guys."

The couple bid farewell to the craftsman as they walked the path home.

Jack let Samira lead the way. He kept his hand in hers as she guided them down the winding path through the woods. Both grew up in the woods and knew how to navigate them very well. They led very private lives and chose few to share them with.

The walk back to her cottage was a quiet one. They stopped every so often so Jack could catch his breath. The pain in his leg eventually settled to a dull ache and the sutures on his abdomen itched as the skin mended itself. The ambient noise of the night whistled through the trees. A stream in the distance could be heard along with the leaves that crunched beneath their feet. Jack stayed on high alert but his ears were primarily focused on the heartbeat that belong to the woman in front of him.

As they passed through an area of brush, a metallic scent hit his noise at full force. A wave of nausea came crashing over him. It was a distant smell, far from where they stood. His body went rigid as memories assaulted his senses.

Samira felt him pause and turned to face him with worry etched in her brow. "What is it?"

"I can smell the blood." He inhaled sharply. "Even from a distance I can smell the blood." Curse is heightened abilities. He felt his chest grow tight again.

Samira squeezed his hand. "Come on, we're almost there. Just stay with me, okay?"

Jack gazed into those warm brown eyes and tried to recenter himself. After a few moments he cleared his throat and nodded as they continued down the path.

Once her cottage came into view, relief washed over him. He hadn't been here in a long time yet, everything was exactly how he remembered. The vines still covered the stone walls. The wood pile was still stocked. The flower pots by the door overflowed with greenery. The front step creaked beneath their weight as they walked to the door.

"You still haven't fixed this?" He asked as she unlocked the door.

"It's not exactly at the top of my to do list." She countered.

"I'll fix it tomorrow then." He shrugged as they entered the cottage. Jack shut the door behind him. The house was dark all except for the faint glow of the oil lamp. He took in a deep breath. The place smelled warm and familiar—a mix of warm vanilla and firewood. It smelled like her.

"I'll get a fire going then freshen up." She hung up her cloak and set down her basket.

"I'll do it." He waved her off. "You go ahead and get changed."

Samira looked at him and smiled. "Okay." She muttered a thanks and peaked his cheek before she disappeared into her bedroom.

Jack got to work on starting the fire. He cleared the damp ashes from the hearth before he added the dry wood. He dipped a piece of parchment into the flame of the lamp before tossing onto the stack of logs. After several minutes the little embers roared to life. Jack used the fire poker to stoke the flames. Once satisfied he took his place at the small sofa. The strain on his muscles vanished as he sank into the soft cushions. He kicked off his shoes and draped his arm over the back of it.

Samira emerged from her room moments later and Jack couldn't tear his eyes away. He hardly ever saw her in her night cloths. Her hair fell in loose waves down her back. She wore a deep red nightdress and a large wool blanket hung over her shoulders.

"Red is definitely your color." He smirked.

"Really?" She squeezed in beside him and draped her legs over his lap.

"Mhmm." Jack placed a hand on her thigh and wrapped his outstretched arm around her, pulling her against his chest. "Are you warm enough?"

Samira snuggled into his chest. "I am now."

"Good."

"You smell good." She murmured.

Jack chuckled and pressed a kiss to her temple.

They sat in a comfortable silence, wrapped in each other's embrace and watched the fire glow bright before them. Jack's thumb absently drew lazy circles against her thigh.

Samira shut her eyes and relaxed into his warm embrace. To the kingdom, he was a monster of fairytales. He was a horrific creature born of nightmares. He was a destructive cold-blooded killer.

To Samira however, he was just Jack—he was her Jack. Being wrapped in his arms was her greatest comfort. He was handsome, kind, and protective. She never feared that he might not return. Regardless of the dangers he faced, he always found his way back to her. She understood his struggles and despite it all, he loved her more than anyone ever had and she loved him. He was her home— a tortured yet gentle soul.

"I'm glad you came back with me." Samira looked up at him. "I've missed you."

"Did you, now?" He met her gaze.

"Mhmm." She nodded. "I like it when you're here."

"Yeah?" Jack tipped her chin up as his eyes fell to her lips. "Me too."

Samira inched forward and closed the gap between them. She was careful at first—curious to see if he wanted this too. She gently pressed her lips to his. Her body ignited at the familiar feel of him. Jack answered her unspoken question by moving his hand from her chin to clutch the nape of her neck. He kissed her back with a fierce hunger, exploring the inside of her mouth with his own. She melted into him as he slipped his tongue passed her parted lips.

Without breaking the kiss, Samira rose and climbed into his lap. The blanket slipped off of her shoulders as she straddled his left thigh. She was rewarded with a low groan as Jack's firm hands guided her hips.

"Is this okay?" She pressed her forehead to his. "I'm not hurting you, am I?"

"No." Jack panted and shook his head. "This is perfect." He tucked a stray curl behind her ear before he leaned back in to capture her lips in a greedy kiss. "So perfect."

Samira smiled as she wrapped her arms around his neck. In their time apart, she missed his company and the way he filled the space beside her. She missed the way his touch sent chills down her spine and the way that his lips felt against her skin. She tipped her head back as he sucked on the spot on her neck that drove her wild. She ground herself against his thigh in an effort to create the friction that she so desperately craved.

"Tell me what you need, Samira." He muttered between kisses.

"Hmm?" Samira followed his hand as it dipped lower and disappeared beneath the skirt of her dress. She gasped as he stroked her inner thigh and ghosted his thumb over her clit.

"You're always taking care of me." He continued as he pulled her underwear to the side and dragged a finger up her center. "You're always stitching me up and putting me back together."

Samira's head fell against his shoulder as he pushed a finger inside her. She squeezed her eyes shut as she adjusted to the wonderful stretch of him.

"Let me take care of you for a change." His deep voice sent a chill down her spine. "How does that sound, Red?"

Samira chuckled at the nickname. "That's—" A whine escaped her lips as he added another finger and began to pump them in a way that made her head spin.

"Use your words, sweetheart." He whispered as he curled his fingers inside her. "Tell me what you need."

"Make love to me, Jack." She panted as she pressed her forehead to his. "I want you to make love to me. I need to feel you—please." She gripped tightly to his shoulders as she rocked onto his hand.

Jack's eyes flicker from her lips to her eyes. He pushed her curls away from her face and smirked. "Okay." He slowly removed his hand from between her legs.

Samira whimpered at the lost of contact.

"There's not enough room." He referred to her very small couch. "Do you wanna go to your—"

"No." Samira shook her head and scrambled off of his lap. "I want you here." She grabbed the large blanket and spread it out atop the rug, in front of the fire. She grabbed Jack's hands and nearly pulled him down on top of her.

Jack chuckled at her eagerness. "Easy there, Red." He tucked his legs beneath himself.

"What can I say?" She leaned in close enough that he could feel her breath on his skin. "It's been awhile." She grasped the front of his shirt and pulled his body flush against her.

Jack smiled against her lips as his hands roamed up and down her body. Her tentative curiosity was now replaced with the desperate need to be close to him—to feel his skin against hers. She gently tugged at the hem of his shirt, urging him to take it off.

Jack obeyed her silent request. His pulled his hands away and reached for the laces at his collar. He quickly undid the knot and pulled the shirt over his head. He tossed the garment to the side and met her eyes. For a moment, his earlier desires vanished and he was suddenly too aware of how exposed he felt.

He has been laid bare in front of Samira countless times over the years. On every full moon when she stitched him together or their rare nights alone. She's seen all of him.

This time felt different. It felt more intimate.

It had been three months since he'd last been to her cottage. Three months since they'd last slept together. The anticipation to feel her again had been brewing since long before tonight. The warm glow of the fire put every scar on display. They littered his arms and torso. Various sized purple welts against his pale, freckled skin. The marks served as a reminder of who he was—of what he was.

The wounds inflected by silver always healed slowly but the scars remained. Jack felt himself begin to shy away as his earlier shame began to seep back through the cracks. He averted his gaze to the fire before them.

He watched Samira approach him in his periphery as of he were a wounded animal. She brought a hand to his chin and pulled him back to meet her eyes. She caressed a thumb over his cheek and began to trace a path along his jaw. She made her way down his neck before pausing at the particularly large slash at his collarbone. This scar was not new but unfamiliar.

Jack remembered the night he'd acquired it all too well. Two months before he tumbled into a ditch with a hunter. In one last effort of defense, the hunter pulled a silver blade from his belt and blindly slashed at his neck and chest. He succeeded in his efforts of harming the Wolf. He didn't not succeed in his efforts of survival.

He watched Samira traced her thumb over the mark. Her eyes flicked to his before she leaned in and placed a delicate kiss over the ridged skin. His eyes drifted shut as she kissed the scar once more before turning her attention to another, then another. It shouldn't have felt so grounding. The way that she mapped out the marks on his torso with her lips made his heart swell in his chest. She paid special attention to each one before moving onto the next. His shame from before became a long forgotten memory. She pulled him back from the darkness in his mind and into the present moment. She placed a kiss atop every scratch of purple skin until she finally made her way back up his jaw.

She cupped the nape of his neck. "Better?"

Jack opened his eyes and nodded. "Way better."

Samira gave him a small smile. "We don't have to—"

"No." He shook his head reached for her. "I want to." He kissed her lips. "More than anything." Another kiss. "Fuck, Samira you have no idea." He moved column of her throat. "I want to—I need to show you how much you mean to me. Fuck I've missed you so much."

She pressed her forehead to his and nodded. It was all the reassurance she needed. "Okay."

Samira cupped his face in her hands. She sighed into his mouth as he kissed her with that feverish hunger. She shivered as his hands roamed her body over the thin cotton of the nightdress.

"May I?" He gripped the dress at her hips, seeking permission to remove it.

"Yes." Samira nodded eagerly. She put enough space between them for him to pull the garment up and over her head and toss the dress to the side.

"Now you." She urged as she pulled her underwear down her hips. "I want to see you."

Jack nodded. He sat back and quickly removed the rest of his clothes. Samira's eyes drifted to his very hard erection.

"Better?" He asked.

"Perfect." Samira nodded and it wasn't long before his lips found her again. She looped her arms around his neck as he placed his hands on her hips. He rose up onto his knees and guided her back until she felt the soft plush of the blanket against her back and he was settled between her legs. Jack's body loomed over her. He pulled back and drank in the sight of her. His eyes stopped at the spot between her legs.

"Wet for me already, Red?" He smirked and leaned back down to nip her collarbone. "We're just getting started."

He left a trail of kisses down the valley of her breasts. Samira gasped as Jack's mouth closed around her nipple. He sucked it into his mouth while he thumbed the other with his free hand. She clutched a hand to his hair to keep him against her.

"Jack." She pleaded as her head fell back against the blanket. His chuckle vibrated against her skin as he moved his mouth to repeat the process with the other. He worked her over until she was breathless and writhing beneath him.

"Jack." This time it came out as more of a whine as she absently tried to tilt her hips up for any sort of friction.

"Hmm?" Jack met her eyes, his pupils were blown wide with desire. "What's the matter, Red?" He stroked his thumb over her cheek.

"Just shut up and fuck me already." She gripped his broad shoulders to pull his lips back down to hers. She could feel him smile against her lips, taking pride in driving her wild with need.

"Okay," he murmured as he pressed his forehead to hers.

Soft moans spilled from her lips as he pushed himself inside of her inch by inch. He gave her time to adjust to the fullness of him until he was fully seated.

"Good?" He panted.

Samira nodded as she wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him to move. She gasped as he started to shift his hips and set a brutal pace. Her head tipped back against the blanket as the sound of his name passed her lips in a breathy moan. Her eyes fluttered shut as he traced her neck and jaw with his lips.

"Keep your eyes on me." He ordered.

Samira opened her eyes and met his—they were dark and full of need.

"That's it." His low grunt almost did her in. She dragged her nails down his back and was rewarded with another.

"More." She pleaded.

Jack nodded and started to move faster. It was almost primal the way that he fuck her, hitting every right spot and saying all of the right words that had her desperate for more. This closeness is what she craved in his absence. To be with him in this state. To feel his shoulders tense as he angled himself deeper. The way his hot breath hit her skin as he murmured words of praise into her neck that nearly sent her over the edge. The way that his hand drifted down between when he could tell that she was close.

"Jack I'm—"

"I've got you." He pressed a thumb to her clit. "Let me hear you, sweetheart."

A soft moan passed her lip as she felt her release roll over her body. Her eyes never left his as she clamped down around him. She dragged her nails into his back as he fucked her through her aftershocks, keeping his relentless pace. She groaned into his mouth as he kissed her. Only when her legs stopped shaking did his strokes become sloppy.

"Fuck." He buried his face in her neck and grunted as he pulled out. His release coated her stomach. He held himself up on his forearm to avoiding crushing her.

Samira was still trying to catch her breath. She gently threaded her fingers through his curls as he panted into her neck and placed feather light kisses on her sweaty skin. The sounds of their steadying breaths mingled with the crackle of the fire. For a while they just laid there, breathing in sync—their hearts still racing from the intensity of it all.

Jack rejoined Samira on the floor. After he regained his barring he pulled on his pants and retrieved a warm rag. He cleaned them up and grabbed a few extra blankets before he tended to the fire and sat back down. He eased himself back onto the blankets and gather Samira into his arms. He threw a blanket over them. Their bodies tangled together as if they were made for each other.

"Are you comfortable?" He whispered.

"Mhmm." Samira nodded and rested her head against his chest. "Very."

Jack chuckled and pressed a kiss to her forehead. His eyes drifted shut as Samira's gentle fingers traced patterns along his skin. She started with shapes then evolved to words. It was words he recognized.

Don't Go.

"You want me to stay?" He lifted his head to meet her gaze. He usually left before sunrise. He hardly ever stayed.

Samira propped her elbow on his chest and rested her chin against her palm. "Tonight, tomorrow, next week and the week after. I want you here all the time, Jack. I miss you when you're not around. I love being with you and I want more."

"Samira—"

"Just listen," she pressed a kiss to his chest. "Please?"

He closed his mouth and nodded for her to continue.

"I know that you feel at-odds with yourself. I know that this curse is your biggest burden. I know that you think that it's easier to handle things alone and I know that you think that you don't deserve to be loved but you're wrong." She placed her free hand right over his heart. "I wish you could see yourself the way that I see you. You have people that love you, Jack—I love you. It's only ever been you. I want a life with you however that may seem. I want to help you find a way, weather we find a witch and break the curse or figure out a way to control it. I want to do it all with you. I want you."

Jack's eyes softened as his heart swelled in his chest. Here, in her home, beneath the firelight she lay herself bare for him and she was more beautiful than ever. He knew that they loved each other. Their relationship was never just casual hookups every so often. She saw through to his soul. Before her he doubted if he even had one. He never thought himself to be worthy of anyone—especially her. Samira had brought him out of the dark and into the light. She showed him what it was like to love and to be loved unconditionally. She gave him space when necessary and would always wait for him to return. She kept him grounded in a way that no one else could. She never viewed him as a monster like the rest. To her, he was human.

Jack felt himself start to hesitate. The voice in his head that deemed him unworthy threatened to break through and pull him back into the dark.

He cleared his throat. "If I hurt you—"

"You haven't." She reassured.

"Samira you are this most important person in my life. If I ever hurt you I could never forgive myself." The words tumbled from his lips. "If anything ever happened to you because of me I—" He shook his head.

"Do you remember the night that I found you?" She asked.

He nodded.

"You were hurt and scared." She went on. "You were cornered and had no ways of escape. You were at your weakest yet you didn't hurt me—and you never will. That much I'm sure of. I want to be with you. I want to help you. We'll figure this out together, okay?"

Jack's heart beat wildly in his chest. As he locked eyes with the woman before him, that self doubt vanished and he felt completely at ease. He wanted to be with her more than anything. He would often deny himself his true desires. He had let himself be led by his own doubts for far too long. She was the smartest person he had ever met and for the first time in a while, he entertained the idea of finding a solution and having the life that he used to only dream of.

"Okay." He nodded.

Samira repeated the phrase back to him. "Okay?"

"I'll stay." A grin spread wide on his face. "Tonight, tomorrow, next week, the week after. However long you'll have me."

Samira cheered and looped her arms around him. She buried her face in his neck. Jack wrapped his arm around her waist to hold her tight against him. She lifted her head and leaned in for a long and tender kiss. This one felt different than the others. As if it were silent promise to each other.

"You do know that this means that you're stuck with me now, right?" He smiled and nipped at her jaw.

"Hmm." Samira playfully tapped her chin. "How unfortunate." She leaned back down for another kiss.

He smiled against her lips. They kissed for a long time. Tangled in each other's embrace before the fire, exploring each other's mouths as if it was the first time again. Jack was completely consumed by her. He always had been only this time he was allowing himself to feel it in it's entirety. Something clicked into place and for the first time in his life, Jack felt whole. Desire was a frightful thing yet it burned hot in his chest whenever she was near. He knew that it wouldn't be easy, letting himself want but he wanted to try. He'd fight his battles. He'd find a solution. He would always come home to her no matter what. For Samira, he'd do anything.

So the two laid there. Jack threaded his fingers through her hair. He listened closely as her soft snores filled his ears. He rubbed small circles into her back and watched as the fire shrank to embers before him. He pressed another kiss to her forehead before he felt his own eyes grow heavy.

"Sleep well, sweetheart." He murmured as he surrendered sleep. "I'll be here when you wake."

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