#oread bf

Stop this is so cute. So in Greek mythology Oreads are female, which ofc means FtM Oread boyfriend 🫶

Happy Earth Day: Post Seven

You usually hiked by yourself, and this time was no different. However, unlike the other times, the mountain you were planning on hiking was more dangerous than you had anticipated. You had slipped, and taken a small tumble down a steep incline. Luckily it was only about 15-20 feet so while you were injured, you’d live if you got help, but no one knew where you were. You had no service out here.

Watching you from a small cave, an Oread watched you. Petros had been watching you since you had approached his mountain. He was curious since most humans came in large groups, yet you came alone. It had been centuries since he had interacted with a human, and he wanted to, but what if you hurt him? What if you attacked him? The thought made fear bubble in his chest.

And yet, when he saw you struggling to push yourself to stand, wincing and sliding further down the incline, he knew that he couldn’t just stand by and let you get more hurt, or worse. So, hesitantly, carefully, he crept out of his cave. His long, curly white hair had been pulled back into a low ponytail, his gray skin almost sickly from the decades of restricted sunlight.

When you first say him, you jumped, then yelped as that motion made you slide more down the incline, putting more pressure on your injured leg.

“H-hey, I’m not going to hurt you,” Petros said cautiously, pausing and wringing his hands. Gods, what was he doing? Helping a human? It was madness. A possible death wish. “Just, hold still.”

He waved his hands, gathering the roots and vines to help lift you back up to the ledge he was on. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, taking in your appearance. When did humans get so tall, or was he just small?

“Thank you,” the bewildered words left your lips as your brows furrowed together. What was this thing and why did he help you?

“I’m Petros,” he said, his pale tongue darting out to wet his lips, as if he was reading your mind. “I’m the guardian of this mountain.”

“Petros,” you repeated, earning you a shy smile from the small oread. “Thank you for saving me.”

“You’re welcome. Um, here, let me help you,” he offered.

For the rest of the day, he helped clean and bandage your various wounds, even the ones you insisted weren’t that bad. He didn’t seem to care, just wanted to dote on you and care for you. It made your heart flutter. By the time night came, instead of making camp, you found yourself asking, “So… are you going to invite me to your cave or do I have to ask?”

Should I do a part two? Obsessed actually lmk 🫶