#but yeah to be fair that's not much of a con to me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

simpjaes · 8 months ago

Text

desecration. (s.j)

the one where no gods exist when you’re alone with jake sim.

minors dni !! | if you read it, reblog it.

WORDCOUNT ― 6.4k

PAIRING ― jake sim x afab reader

GENRE ― top/dom jake sim, characters are in their twenties, sub/bratty reader, religious kink/fetish

WARNINGS― mild dub con, desecration of holy a relic, inaccurate descriptions of whatever religion this is– im not doing research for a 5k fic that’s mostly smut, sorry.

NOTE― if you’ve read this before, it’s because I wrote it for mark lee over on my other blog [ncteez]. we wanted to make it jake, and by we i mean me. i wanted to read this as jake. sorry to religious ppl, don’t read this if you don’t wanna be railed by a hot guy wielding a cross.

smut tags under cut::

smut tags― DUB CON. use of the words: whore, slut, for the record, the cross is not raw wood and has a smooth finish, reader is first attempting to seduce the priest through confession lmao, she’s also just a massive whore just like me :), jake is the priest’s son, jerking off, penetration using a wooden cross, unprotected sex, spitting, choking on and/or sucking off a cross, degradation, and name-calling, he’s a godfearing man but also he likes sexual perversions, humiliation, explicitly getting fucked in a church, kind of fingering?

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake wonders why you’re always making confessions, time and time again, once a week, every single week….eagerly. Like you’re excited for your sin or something.

Huh.

Then again, once a week his father is expected to listen to confessions from the other churchgoers, even Jake himself is expected to confess. Often he will make up sins that he has committed just to seem as though he has been learning from some sort of mistake. Never would Jake actually tell his father through a confession booth what he has done or is willing to do. He’s an adult, he can confess whatever he wants.

You, on the other hand, you’re working his father to the bone in terms of forgiveness.

Jake’s interest piques at the very idea of a young woman, around his age, wanting to confess so much. Did you hurt someone? Does you hurt yourself? Did you kill someone? Or maybe you’re just caught up in a situation that makes you commit atrocities? He can’t even imagine what one person could be doing to elicit such an eager need of forgiveness so consistently.

Always the first in the box, always with those inappropriate outfits too.

Jake makes his way to the back of the church to complete his duties and, of course, he isn’t surprised to see you enter the confession booth. After all, it is the start of a new week.

Hushed whispers were echoing through the large space and only now does he realize that you almost always confess when the church is nearly empty. You must not be unaware of his presence at all, unaware that he is the son of the priest that you spill your sins to, and unaware that he can absolutely hear you when he walks closer.

He isn’t entirely sure why he is listening. The walls of this church echo any and every sound, and to be fair, the only reason his interest is piqued is because his father was silent from the moment you had entered the booth. All he heard was you. You didn’t seem to start the confession off in a proper manner either, so yeah, maybe it caught him off guard too.

His ears make attempts to adjust to the words coming from the booth, but your voice is coming out in a tone that he has never used himself when seeking salvation. Minutes pass and he still hasn’t heard his father speak a word back to you, not to encourage you, not to stop you. It’s just you, addressing dreams, visions, wants, and needs.

Certainly not confession. In fact, you’re actively sinning, attempting to seduce.

“I woke up shaking, Father. What should I do?”

Jake notes how quiet his father is still, despite you asking him what to do about the dream. His face sours when you continue to speak, this time in a slightly louder tone.

“I just can’t help myself sometimes, I–”

It’s not that it’s intentional, really, it isn’t. If anything at all, Jake is incredibly disgusted by your attempts to dirty talk during a confession. Disgusted that you’d do such a thing, and…maybe intrigued by what you may have said that he wasn’t quite able to catch before. He quietly moves to the other side of the booth, the side where you seem to be spouting off all sorts of things, and he raises his head to listen a bit more.

“You were big, you know? I can’t get thoughts of you out of my head. Have you ever touched a woman, Father?”

Jake leans in further, his body reacting more than his disgust. Unfortunately, his length growing in his pants ceases the moment his father cuts you off.

“Enough.” His father finally stops you from abusing the booth, from abusing him.

Not another word is spoken and Jake does his best to back away quickly and quietly as you exit the booth. Of course, he’s acting as though he is sweeping a corner when he turns to look at you. Eye contact is made and he can feel an intense rush of heat spread across his cheeks.

Ah, so you’re a whore.

His father stays inside of the booth for a long, drawn out, three or so minutes before exiting and all Jake can think about is if you walked out of the church soaked and warm between your legs. It’s not even that Jake is into sinning. He isn’t. His entire life was built around this church, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a man. He has needs just like you do, apparently.

Never would he get what he needs from a woman as dirty as yourself, though, it doesn’t stop him from thinking about it and how your voice sounds when you were actively trying to fuck his dad.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“You’re disgusting.” Jake narrows his eyes at you when you pass by, spitting the words at you with a grimace.

“Excuse me?” You ask, stopping in your tracks and looking back at him just as harshly. You didn’t provoke him to speak to you at all, let alone fucking insult you?

“You think I can’t hear the way you speak to my dad during your little “confessions”?” He takes a step forward as he whispers at you, air quoting the word confession with a roll of his eyes.. “You really think he’s just going to take you up on the offer?”

Narrowing your own eyes, you step closer to Jake to stop anyone else from hearing his little tantrum.

“Wanna tell me why he always listens to my “confessions” then?” You question back, mimicking the air quotes and smirking as you walk away from him, not even letting him answer.

Jake watches as you leave, upset that he didn’t get a rise out of you at all and instead was offered a genuine question that sits in his mind. Why does his father allow you to make a confession after confession if all it is, is an attempt to seduce him? You’re even ashamed of it, it seems, and it pisses him off to no end.

Rushing after you, he is quick to grab at your dress and pull you back.

“Might as well just show up naked with the way you act around here,” He starts with a bite in his tone, dragging you off, down the hall and into a side room that usually remains empty.

He intends to put a stop to this because he’s heard several more of your confessions by his own will and learns that, apparently, your only sin is being a fucking slut.

“You have no place here.” He adds as he closes the door behind the two of you. Unintentionally locking you into a space that he’s directly saying you don’t belong in.

“Acting like you don’t think about fucking. Hah. We both know I’m not the only one,” You laugh, walking across the room with a shrug. It’s not the first time you’ve been reprimanded in a church, and it probably won’t be the last. “Besides, your dad probably thinks about me late at night after tucking your grown ass into bed like a child.”

Jake narrows his eyes even more at you.

“Bet that pisses you off.”

“You’re ridiculous to think he would even want someone like you.” Jake scoffs harshly at you, gut bubbling with annoyance. “To think about sex this often too? I can’t imagine anyone would want to touch such a slut.”

You watch him walk towards you, with his perfectly tucked shirt and his darkened and angry eyes. Being alone with him doesn’t help his argument though because, in all fairness, he’s just as hot, if not hotter than his father.

“What about you then?” You ask, leaning against one of the shelves in the room, running your hand up your legs, and hiking your dress up a couple of inches.

“Your dad with his lingering eyes won’t admit to having ever touched a woman. Yet here you are.” You call out the priest’s lie with a snide chuckle before continuing. Fingers massaging your own fleshy thighs, watching the way Jake struggles with his own lingering eyes. “What about you? You ever fuck anyone?”

Jake grimaces, wrinkling his nose as he watches you.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He questions, stomping over to you and pushing your dress back down below your knees.

“Oh!” You laugh, ticking your tongue at him and tilting your head. “You said a bad word. Aren’t you going to ask for forgiveness?”

He stares at you for a few seconds, being face to face with a woman that seems so desperate for any touch has his heart racing. He’s trying to call you out, not turn you on.

“Can’t you act decent? I barely know you and you’re flaunting yourself at me.” Jake bellows, stumbling back from you and examining the way your body is relaxed.

You really seem to be enjoying this.

“You’re the one who pulled me in here. Was it really to argue with me, or were you trying to get to me before Father does?”

Thinking for a moment, Jake realizes he’s the reason this is happening. He could have just let you leave like everyone else, after all, you were attempting to go home. Here he is though, and there you are.

“He would never.” Jake laughs, mocking your attempts to pretend his father would be interested in you.

“And again, what about you?” You shoot back instantaneously, watching the way his words get caught in his throat.

He’s a weak man, truly, because the very thought of what’s under your dress, the very idea that you’re so willing, fogs his brain to the point of almost malfunctioning. It would be so fucking easy if he wanted to.

No one would even know.

Before you even know it, you can feel the air in the room change as he storms closer to you and rips your dress upwards to your waist. Instantly, he’s shoving his hand straight between your legs.

A small yelp leaves your throat followed by a laugh. Perfect.

“I knew it.” You giggle, bumping your head a bit against the shelf at the force of his movement. You can feel the way his palm cups your core and presses in harshly through his silent breaths. “I fucking knew you were dirty.”

“Stop,” Jake demands, bringing his other hand to cover your mouth. “Stop talking.” He continues, already pulling his hand from your core and second-guessing himself.

“If you want it so bad, I’m going to need you to shut the fuck up.”

You nod with a smile against his palm, breathing in when he pulls it back and trusts your ability to stay quiet. He’s staring directly into your eyes as if he’s threatening you. As if he will stop if you make a single peep. A promise that he will probably get you banned from the church if anyone were to find out what’s happening in this room right now. At his darkened gaze, you poke your tongue out, licking his palm and watching him pull back in aroused shock at how unashamed you are regarding your arousal. But, you do stay true to your work and remain quiet once his eyes trail down.

He looks at you as if you’re some sort of monstrous entity, and for him at this moment, you probably are. But even with that, you see what’s growing in his pants before he lowers himself onto the floor. Positioning his face right in front of your clothed pussy.

What a dirty, dirty boy.

Jake can see the wet stain of your panties and all he can do is roll his eyes.

“You’re insane.” He laughs, eyes darting up to your face, looking at you like he wants to shame you. “Getting so messy in such a place, all for men who don’t fucking want you?”

You nod, wiggling your hips at him in an attempt to entice his lips to attach there. But he doesn’t. He just stands right back up to his feet and takes a step backwards.

“I bet if I left you here, you’d chase after me.” He mocks. “I bet you think I’m gonna stick it in you, don’t you?”

Proudly, you smile with a nod. Of course he's going to stick it in. You can see how hard he’s gotten. Sin or not, you know when a man wants to fuck you. Jake won’t be able to resist sooner or later, son of the priest or not.

“Wow,” He laughs quietly, shaking his head at you as he reaches behind a podium and pulls out a large, lacquered wooden cross. “You really are stupid.”

Great, you think as your face falls. He’s definitely about to start preaching to you with that stupid fucking cross. Maybe he will even attempt to perform an exorcism to expel the horny demons out of you.

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes, standing yourself up straight from against the shelf and patting your dress back down into position. “Don’t start this shit.” You’re already preparing to walk out without looking twice at him, but he laughs right back at you.

“You think you know everything.” He chuckles, walking towards the door and locking it. He stands in front of it now, crossing his arms and staring at you.

“Don’t I?” You ask, eyeing the way he presents himself to you right now.

“Did I not just imply that I wouldn’t use my cock on you?” He questions, twitching in his pants at the way you stand before him, much smaller in energy now.

He can tell you’re still trying to act brave, and it delights him to see the realization spread across that pretty, silent mouth.

Oh. Oh.

“You’re going to–?” You swallow hard, realizing that of all the sins you could commit, the implication of being penetrated with a cross, solely so this man doesn’t have to fuck a whore isn’t one you ever thought of.

This room doesn’t even feel like part of a church now as he holds the cross with more reason than praying.

“Yeah,” He assures you. “I am.” Stepping forward toward you and looming down at your face. “Now get on the desk.”

You don’t know why, but your body acts on instinct for him. Immediately walking to the desk and propping yourself onto it.

“Take off your clothes.” He demands again, watching you intently as he stays in place, rubbing the long end of the cross much like he’d like to do for himself right now.

God, watching such a stubborn woman do everything he says is…well, it’s new for him and it ignites a new type of arousal within him.

And you watch him back as you begin to slip your dress from your shoulders, lifting your ass so that you can push it down and onto the floor.

“Oh, now you wanna act shy?” He mocks, walking towards you as you attempt to tug at your panties. “And keep those on. No one wants to see that.”

Goddamn, you don’t even have the decency to wear a bra to service? Lucky for him though, your breasts are enough to drive him past the point of return. There’s no thought, fear, or prayer in his head right now as you reveal yourself to him. Going as far as trying to flash your pussy? Oh, he could laugh.

You stay quiet, doing as you’re told and watching the way he examines you. He must feel so in control right now and you’re happy to let him, but you can see him falling apart behind his eyes.

His cock is incredibly obvious beneath his nice dress pants, but you wouldn’t dare reach out to touch him, not yet at least. You’ll let him have his fun, despite the slight nervousness within you regarding that cross.

“Open your mouth.” He says, dragging the cross against your nipples and onto your chin. “Suck it.”

You almost shake your head at him. Such a hard wood sliding down your throat would surely hurt. It’ll bruise, it’ll fucking suffocate you.

Jake doesn’t seem to care about any of that though, because all he does in response to your widened and fear-stricken eyes is press the wood against your lips with a face of concentration.

You purse your lips, muffling a displeased grunt at his acts.

“You scared?” He smiles first, pulling the cross away and now tracing his fingers along your lips before prying them inside and hooking your mouth open. “Come on, don’t act like you don’t know how to suck.”

You relent this time, feeling the cold and smooth tip of the cross enter past your lips when he resumes his previous assault. It’s not that you are against doing it, you just…haven’t done it before.

You’re not exactly sure of how to respect a holy relic such as this one when you’re expected to choke on it.

“That’s it.” Jake coos, pressing the cross further into your mouth. “Open up real wide.”

You close your eyes at his voice, licking the smoothed object with an intensity you didn’t know you had. After all, it’s been so long since you’ve been intimate with a person, hence the constant wet dreams about your priest. This is somehow, incredibly hot to you. To have his son fucking your mouth, regardless of what object he’s using to do it.

Still, it does hurt. The intricate edges of the cross bruises each time it hits the clenching walls of your throat and mouth, but Jake seems to like the sound of you choking and sobbing around it. After all, he just continues to press the cross further and further in. Probably relishing in the way you try to swallow around it and relax your throat.

His eyes are so focused, seeing how much of it you can take and only imagining how good it would feel if it were his cock choking you right now. Despite your sputtering and crying eyes, you’re taking it so well.

Yeah, you’ve definitely done this before. Probably swallowed up some guy’s cum and begged for more despite still having a cock wedged in your throat. How lucky for them to have someone so desperate to be gagged.

“You’re filthy for doing this, you know that?” He laughs at your pain and how you don’t try to pull at his pushing hand, tipping the cross just a bit so that its hardened wood hits your throat in a way that hurts a bit too much.

You cough around it, only now pushing his hand back in protest. The tears are pouring from your eyes when the cross slides out of your mouth, and all you can do is blink up at him as you try to regain your breath.

Half expecting him to immediately hold your head in place just to shove the cross back in, Jake pulls back instead, tilting his head down to look at your panties.

Your legs instinctively cross to hide your arousal, but he prys your legs open regardless, forcing you to act as the whore you so wanted to be. For his father, for him, for anyone who would be willing, honestly.

You’ve gotten wetter.

“You’re so gross, I can’t believe you get off to this–” He laughs, feeling his cock begin to fucking ache. “You can take more, then.”

No, no. You don’t want to keep sucking it, but your mouth opens anyway. Too turned on by the idea of seeing Jake’s reaction to watching you be so dirty, so blasphemous.

The way he moans when you open your mouth willingly this time is…well, he looks fucking good. He sounds even better.

You take it into your mouth without so much as a second thought this time, allowing him to slide the cross back and forth against your tongue and into your throat. You willingly swallow around the harsh edges, tears falling all the while, of course.

You’re gagging so softly around it, he’s almost jealous over how you wanted his dad before you wanted him. Surely no one would do this for you, right? His father would never be with such a horny, needy, and dirty woman.

Jake though….shamefully, is very into it.

Into you, rather.

When he pulls it out this time, your saliva coats the cross in a way that nearly breaks his brain. Intensely, he stares at your lips, slack and waiting for him to continue his abuse. God, he’s so jealous. To think you would do this with someone else? With anyone? Anything?

It turns him on beyond belief, but feeling jealous of the fucking cross isn’t exactly something Jake wants to admit. His father? Sure, whatever. But a relic he’s prayed to his whole life? Growing resentful of it just because you take it down your pretty and bruised throat?

No.

Jake shifts now, unable to satiate the arousal within him without grabbing your hand and forcing you to grope his hidden cock. So hard, so fucking hard, he nearly lets out his own sob at the euphoric touch when he actually does it.

You’re a bit shocked that he’s letting you touch him, but you take the opportunity and run with it. You press your palm against him without any amount of shame, and all you can do is watch as he hangs his head, the saliva coated cross still gripped in his other hand.

“Bet you wanted to fuck my mouth.” You croak out, your voice sounding just as raw at your throat. “Bet you wanted me to take all of it and beg for your cum.”

His head shoots up in response to that as he grabs your face harshly, bucking against your hand at the same time. “Stop talking.” He seethes, releasing your face and inserting his fingers into your mouth instead. “Stick your tongue out.”

You do as he says, feeling his heavy cock twitching against your palm with each press.

Jake seems like an expert at this, you aren’t sure, but when he presses your tongue down with his fingers to open your throat up, he spits into your mouth so easily that you have no choice but to swallow it.

Well, okay. He could probably get away with doing that a few more times if he wanted to.

You moan when you swallow, lending him a dopey smile that shocks him. You weren’t supposed to like that in his eyes, but when you grab his cock in response rather than just palm at it, he can’t help but moan back at you.

His fingers continue to hold your tongue down as you jerk him off over his pants, and his hips stutter all the while until he loses all composure. Within a second, he stalks even closer, slamming both hands against the desk on either side of you and leaning forward to pin you there.

And then he grinds forward against your weak hand, pinned between him and the edge of the desk.

Yet still, he’s gripping that fucking cross as he pins you here.

“You want me to fuck you so bad, I can see it.” He croaks, not even allowing you to offer him a nod before he’s got his lips attached to yours and he’s licking into your mouth. It feels impossibly better than that cross pressing against the back of your throat but you swallow his kiss just as easily.

His hips continue to grind as he licks into your mouth like a man who doesn’t know how to kiss at all. So rough and messy with it, groaning more and more before he’s nearly a panting mess before you. He pulls back from the kiss only for a moment to stare at you, eye contact more fierce than it was before.

“I think you’re the one who wants to fuck me.” You manage to slip out before he can silence you again, and his eyes narrow instantly.

More than anything, that’s what he wants to do to you. He wants to shut you up in as many ways possible right now, and he definitely wants fucking you to be one of those ways. But he can’t, and he won't.

“Hah–you’d love that.” He laughs, reaching his empty hand between the two of you to press his pants down enough to let his cock spring free.

You can’t even get a good look at it, because he’s instantly grabbing himself and fucking his fist before looking back up at you.

“Go on, look.” He says, leaning a bit so that you can watch him jerk off in full view now. “Bet you’d beg for it if I told you to.”

“Please?” You instantly let out, eyes staring at the angry head of his cock leaking and pulsing.

“I didn’t say to actually beg–” He groans, halting his hand and instead, thrusting his hips into the tightly formed hole he’s created. “I’m not going to fuck you.” He laughs again, now pulling the cross back and into your view with a wicked smirk.

Of course. The cross. Well, at least you’re going to be fucked with something right?

You eye the piece of wood and then go back to watching him. You’re not sure what it is about this situation but it feels like your body is on fire. Maybe it’s because hell is right beneath you, just a floorboard away from what the two of you have gotten yourselves into behind this locked door.

“Oh?” He halts his hips and licks his lips. “You actually want me to fuck you with this?”

You nod frantically, spreading your legs in front of him and showing off how large the spot on your panties has grown since he last inspected it. You watch as his eyes practically burn a hole through your pussy.

Only then does he release his own cock and look back into your eyes. More seriously this time when reality and guilt clicks in his head.

“You are aware of what we are about to do, right?” His confidence falters blatantly as he glances at the cross. “Like, if you ever tell my dad about this, I will be disowned.”

“You think I’d snitch on you?” You roll your eyes, body nearly shaking to get fucked. God, why does he have to stop now?

“Well, since you’re so inclined to confess every fucking day–”

“Jake, you literally just fucked my throat with it.” You deadpan, hooking your legs around him to pull him close enough to feel his cock hit your wet panties. “You’re the dirtiest one here, I’m not going to give that up just to see you get disowned.”

He laughs at you for that. Because yeah, maybe he is. Maybe he’s the one who shouldn’t be in church, and maybe he’s the one who should have been confessing this whole time. Never in his life has he ever done this, or so much as imagined doing it, it’s so perverse. So, wrong. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what’s attractive about it.

For some reason, his cock jumps when you say you’re not giving him up because he’s dirty.

“And–” You soften your voice, trying to lure him. “You don’t have to use the cross, you know.”

“No.” He barks out, pulling his hips back and pressing the cross against you instead. “Now, keep your legs open.”

He gets right back into it without a second thought. He doesn’t care what he’s doing or what the repercussions of doing this will be. It’s not like he wasn’t going to hell before any of this, not based on the fantasies he’s had anyway.

Jake hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls them down your legs harshly, to the point that they’re stretching so far that it feels like they could cut through your skin. He backs away for a moment upon seeing you grimace at that, allowing you to slip them down your legs before positioning himself back between them.

“I’m dirty?” He says, looking at your pussy and the way it clenches around absolutely nothing. He sees the slick seeping out of you already, and it’s not only pathetic but so fucking desperate of you. “Fucking look at that.”

You smile at it, knowing that he’s degrading you but absolutely loving the view if his focused eyes are anything to go by.

Before the cross, he experimentally traces his fingers along your folds until he gets to your hole, and without hesitation, he slips one of them in. The grip of your walls alone could probably send him over the edge if he were to make a last-minute change and shove his cock into you, but he holds back. Instead, he traces the cross against you in the same way he did with his fingers, slowly inserting it alongside his digit.

Pulling back, Jake watches your face as the cross opens you up, probably dragging against your walls uncomfortably as a reminder of the ultimate sin you’re committing with him right now.

When your face doesn’t contort into that of pain, he pulls his finger out of you and places his hand back on his cock. Still staring at your face, he fucks the cross in and out of you. Relishing in the sound of how wet you are for this, and for him to give it to you.

He does this until, finally, you moan.

Upon that little whimper of a moan, Jake is sent into a different headspace. One that quickens his pace with the object inside of you, one that tightens the grip on himself.

Now, oh now, he’s playing for fun. He presses it in and then pulls it all the way out just to see your pussy beg for more. Holding back a moan over how fucking hot it is to see, he opts to coo out at you.

“Bet it would feel so good.” He breathes, trying to ignore the shiver that shoots through his body at the way you yearn for it. “Could shove my cock right in, you’d just take it, wouldn’t you?”

Before you can answer, he’s thrusting the relic right back into you. In, out, in, out. Deeper, harder, fucking faster. And he offers the same for himself, tightening his fist, nearly abusing his own cock at the sight of your swollen hole swallow up the wood. Really, he makes a point to fuck himself just to imagine it’s you that’s squeezing him.

If he thinks hard enough, it really is almost like he’s the one fucking you.

He keeps this up for a few minutes, up until your legs are shaking around him and you begin to reach out with your hands. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s incredibly fucking horny right now, he’d probably be rushing for the altar to save you from whatever demon is possessing you.

But, he knows that this is no demon, this is all his own doing. He’s loving it. Every single bit of this situation is being burned into his memory, and when your legs shake, it only urges him to fuck the object into you harder.

You whimper out strings of nonsense, almost begging for a release from this grasp he is holding over you both physically and mentally, but he doesn’t relent. Your pathetic cunt is being pounded by an object that should have you crying in fear, but instead, you’re so close to release you can only beg for more, more, fucking more.

And god, he keeps giving it to you.

In an attempt to open your eyes, you feel dizzy with lust. Your hips buck up against the object with intent, and you can’t stop watching him.

“Goddamn.” Jake stutters a sin, watching you fuck yourself against the holy relic. Thankful to rest his arm and be able to just…watch.

And oh, he’s watching and intensely imagining that it’s you on him. He can’t stop thinking about how fucking warm you must be, how tight, how sinfully delicious your pussy must be for you to be acting like this. And that thought is what forces him to lose it.

You were so focused, on the verge of your orgasm when you feel him practically tear the cross out of you, dropping it to the floor before – oh fuck.

You feel him. Something bigger, something thicker ramming into you. He’s prying you open more than he did previously, already pumping in and out at a frantic speed. Instantly, you cling onto him with a bruising grip, listening to his shameless moans as he realizes the lack of control he has over his own body or thoughts.

Jake practically falls over you in euphoria as you cling, forcing you to fall back against the desk as he relentlessly plunges his hips. His breath is heavy against your neck as he loses himself, and all you can do is thank the same god you just disrespected for this cock that’s abusing your hole in all of the right ways.

“I can’t–” He groans out against your ear, his hips not stopping their relentless assault. “You’re so fucking dirty.” He insults, pushing you up the desk with each thrust. “So good.”

You can barely make a sound from the force behind his hips, only small yelps leaving your throat each time he slams in. And fuck, you want nothing more than to rub your clit right now. You could cum all over him, you could really make him feel good.

And as if your prayers are answered, Jake apparently knows exactly how to pleasure a woman. Hm, curious. He knows how to do it fucking well too, as you feel his fingers rub against the swollen nub in the exact same way you would right now. Painful, intense.

The fact that he wants you to cum is delicious.

Your orgasm hits you almost instantly, pussy sucking in him each time he goes to thrust, and the sounds coming from your throat could be considered demonic by some, but he swallows them up with ease when he notes that you’re cumming all over him.

Jake licks into your mouth, soothing you with dirty words when he pulls back to breathe.

“You should see yourself–” He pants out, sticking his tongue out to lick against your lip. “Getting me all messy too?” He says again through a moan. “You’re beautiful.” He adds like a period at the end of a sentence.

That alone makes you feel…different. In fact, it prolongs your orgasm far past sensitivity when he continues to thrust into you. You can’t tell if he said that because he’s close, or if it’s because he meant it.

Quite frankly, you could give less of a fuck if he meant it.

Jake stutters his hips when you lift your head just slightly, gripping his hair and skewing his head to the side so that you can whisper into his ear.

“Want me to beg for your cum?” You whisper with a shaking voice. “You’d love that too, wouldn’t you? I know I would.”

His eyes squeeze shut as he aggressively turns his head and, once again, pries your mouth open with his tongue. A bruising kiss follows as he fucks his last few thrusts into you, doing just as you implied he should.

He pumps his cum into you relentlessly, thankful that it’s not all over his pants and entirely milked into that sinful cunt of yours. Thankful that you also got off around him instead of that forgotten cross on the floor.

He wants nothing more than to remind you time and time again who got to you first. It was him, not his father.

You smile at him when he pulls back out of breath, examining his pants before stuffing his sensitive cock back into them and reaching down for the cross.

“If you ever fucking tell my dad about this–” He seethes out of breath, trying to pretend that he can regain composure so soon after fucking you the way he just did. Still, he narrows his eyes at you much as he had done before.

“Go on.” You say, voice shaking as you try to grasp back onto reality from whatever world his cock had sent you into.

Jake is at a loss for words, because, what could he possibly do about it if you were to tell? He looks at you, still spread out against the desk, dress crumpled, his cum seeping out of you in a messy show of how much of an absolute whore he forced you to be.

“Just, don’t tell him.” He finally says, averting his eyes from you and looking at the cross in his hand.

“Do you feel bad already?” You ask out, finally lifting to get off of the desk.

“Don’t you?”

You shake your head, struggling to stand as the seething pain of having a wooden cross stuck into you shoots through your body. “Not really.” You try to laugh, but you wince instead.

“Yeah, I figured you’d probably be hurting after all of that.” He finally says in a somewhat apologetic tone, walking up to you with a soothing hand.

You’re a little shocked by his kindness.

“Yeah, a little.” You laugh it off though because, at the moment, it felt good. You wouldn’t have wanted it any other way despite how blasphemous the act was.

“Oh.” Jake seems sorrowful in his tone, but his gaze doesn't leave you. “I- um, I don’t know how to make it like, not hurt?” He scratches the back of his head.

In your attempt to put your dress back on, you do note that the pain inside of you isn’t unfamiliar. You’d been fucked hard before, but that was a long time ago. You missed this feeling, realizing that it was exactly what you think you needed.

“It’ll pass.” You assure him, taking a deep breath and trying to stumble your way to the door. “I guess I’ll see you later, then?”

Jake dips his head with a small nod, feeling guilty for what he’s done. Not because of the cross, not because of the sin, but because he’s unsure of how to pretend like he wouldn’t want to do it again.

#enhypen smut #sim jaeyun smut #jake sim smut #jake smut #enhypen hard hours #enha smut

2K notes · View notes

crdteezv · 28 days ago

Text

Scream - Haechan

Paring: !perv!ghostface!haechan x f! reader (ft. jaemin)

Genre: college au, halloween, smut

Synopsis: Haechan has always been watching, his obsession with you deepening into something possessive and consuming. He's jealous of Jaemin and frustrated that, despite his toxic behavior, you’re still drawn to him. Haechan is set on having you all to himself, and your Halloween party was his best shot...

Warnings: smut. perv/hard dom! haechan, the reader in a situationship with jaemin (he is kind of toxic…), haechan and jaemin are roommates, cheating (depending on how you see it…), non to dub-con, stalker/yandere subthemes, possessive, degradation/praise, rough sex, cumplay (nothing too crazy), knife play(no blood involved), mask kink (but he takes off later on), slight somno, dacryphilia, sadism/masochism, rope play, choking, dirty talk, teasing, kissing, oral (giving), fingering/finger sucking, manhandling, size difference, overstimulation, unprotected sex

Word Count: 11.4k words (officially my longest fic…)

A/n: Since Halloween is today, I wanted to make something a little special for Haechan. I want to clarify that I do love Jaemin; I only made him toxic for the sake of the plot😭. Fair warning this is pretty dark so if you don’t like it, don’t read it. I DON’T CONDONE ANY OF THE ACTS DONE IN THIS FIC.

Haechan was obsessed with you the moment he laid his eyes on you. At first, it was a simple infatuation; he liked to admire you from afar. He always thought you were very pretty and would often stare at you in history class. You obviously didn’t know each other, and he would sit far in the back.

He was starting to shake off his little crush until he noticed that his roommate Jaemin showed an interest in you. Haechan was never really the jealous type, but seeing the way you looked at Jaemin drove him insane. It didn't help that Jaemin always talked about you to him, forcing Haechan to act like he cared.

In reality, he wanted to kill Jaemin simply for being with you.

Haechan tried multiple times during class to approach you and start a conversation, but you always left too quickly or were too busy talking to your friends. So, he took a more subtle approach, leaving notes in your bag when you weren’t looking. At first, they were harmless compliments about how pretty you looked and how he liked your style.

But soon, it escalated.

He began detailing what he would do to you once he had his hands on you and how he would care for you. One time, he noticed you reading those notes in class after you returned from the bathroom and sat down in your seat. The way you squirmed and pressed your thighs together made him instantly hard.

The thought of how much he was affecting you drove him wild.

But in your mind, you thought it was Jaemin leaving these notes. He always drives you to school, and you figured he snuck the notes into your bag every time he drops you off. You planned to ask him about it, but when you did, he told you he wasn’t the one behind the notes.

“Wait, what?” you asked, surprised.

“Yeah, it’s not me. I’m flattered you think I’m that much of a romantic, but I’m not shy about my feelings for you and I wouldn’t need to write them on some post-it note,” he chuckled.

You felt flustered and taken aback by his comment, but now you were confused about who wrote the notes.

“Then if it’s not you, then who is it?”

“I don’t know. Looks like you’ve got a secret admirer,” he said playfully.

“Oh, shut up,” you replied, laughing.

“It’s too bad, though. The poor guy doesn’t stand a chance since you’re mine.”

He was always smooth with his words, and you fell for them every single time. Meanwhile, Haechan was hiding nearby, hearing the entire conversation. He wanted to go over and punch Jaemin for making fun of his crush on you, but he held himself back.

As time passed, you and Jaemin grew closer, sometimes hanging out in his dorm. He often mentioned his roommate Haechan, describing him as quiet and reserved. Although Jaemin was friendly, he sometimes sensed that Haechan didn’t like him, and he couldn't understand why.

One night, you planned to spend the night with Jaemin. You wore a loose crop top that exposed your shoulders and short shorts that highlighted your thighs and curves. Stepping out of his room for a moment to grab snacks for your movie night, you felt comfortable navigating the space.

As you walked into the kitchen, you noticed Haechan cooking food for himself. This was the first time you had seen him up close; he wore a black hoodie pulled over his head and joggers. You gave him a slight smile and introduced yourself, but he couldn’t meet your gaze, distracted by the way your shirt clung to your figure and how well your shorts accentuated your curves.

“So, what’s your name?” you asked.

He snapped back to reality at your question. “Oh, I-I’m Haechan.”

Leaning closer, you studied his features, as if he looked familiar. “Wait, you’re in my history class, right?”

He was shocked that you even noticed him, considering he sat in the back. “Um, yeah. How did you know?” He chuckled awkwardly.

“I remember you presenting your project with my friend Mark.”

“Oh yeah! He and I are pretty good friends. I wanted to live in a dorm with him this semester, but it didn’t work out, unfortunately.”

“Bummer! At least you have Jaemin; he’s pretty great right?”

Haechan felt a surge of anger at how highly you spoke of Jaemin, but he masked it well. “Yeah, he’s cool. We usually just stay in our rooms and keep to ourselves. Anyway, are you looking for something?”

You were so focused on your conversation that you nearly forgot what you came for. “Ah, that’s right! Thanks for reminding me. I was looking for snacks for me and Jaemin and wondered if you could tell me where they are.”

“Uh, check the lower cabinet down there; if not, maybe try the top shelf over there,” he replied.

You bent down to check the lower cabinets, unknowingly putting your ass on display for Haechan. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, cursing under his breath as he began to feel aroused. Realizing the position you were in, you stood up straight.

“Oh, I’m sorry for bending down like that. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable. Also, I don’t see any snacks down there, so I’m going to check the top shelf,” you said.

Haechan found it adorable how flustered you were, and it only made him like you more.

“Ah, it’s okay. Are you sure you can reach it though? He puts them up pretty high.”

“Ah, I’ll be fine.”

You made your way over to the counter next to him and reached up for the bag of chips, still having to get on your tiptoes. He noticed your crop top ride up slightly, revealing a hint of your underboob.

He was starting to lose his mind.

Thoughts raced through his mind—what if you were doing this on purpose? Maybe you were just teasing him. Or maybe it was all in his head, and he was just being a pervert.

But he couldn’t keep watching you struggle like this, so he stopped what he was doing for a moment, got behind you, and grabbed the chips without fail. Your backside pressed against him, and he felt your warmth, sending shivers down your spine.

You also felt something…hard?

He pulled the bag of chips away and gave you a smirk. Embarrassed, you couldn’t meet his gaze.

This was such a boost to his ego.

He knew exactly what he was doing when he pressed his hard-on against your ass. This was the boldest move he had ever made on you.

“Here you go.”

He handed you the chips with a smile.

“T-thanks! You didn’t have to do that.”

“Um, I think I did. You were struggling a bit there,” he teased with a chuckle.

You playfully nudged his shoulder and told him to shut up. You both laughed it off. Just then, Jaemin approached the kitchen, realizing you were taking a long time getting the snacks.

“Hey, baby, what’s taking you so lo—”

He stopped speaking when he saw the position you were both in, confusion flashing across his face. You quickly returned to normal, with Haechan cooking and you closing the snack cabinet.

“Uh, what’s going on here?”

“Oh, your little girlfriend here was struggling to grab the snacks on the top shelf, so I had to help her out.”

“Oh, please! I really could’ve gotten it on my own if you weren’t here.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Jaemin noticed the playful banter between the two of you and felt a twinge of annoyance.

“First of all, she isn’t my girlfriend, and second, it seems like you two know each other.”

You didn’t know why, but hearing him say that felt unsettling. You knew he didn’t want to put a label on things yet, but you felt like you were practically in a relationship. You didn’t want to cause a scene in front of Haechan, so you slowly made your way over to Jaemin with the snacks and said, “Not really; I just found out that we have the same class together.”

“Oh, small world, huh?”

You laughed it off and made your way back into Jaemin's dorm room, leaving him alone with Haechan. It seemed Haechan had finished cooking his food and was heading back to his room.

“Dude, what the fuck was that about? I’ve never seen this talkative whenever I bring people over.”

“Hey, she was the one who talked to me first. I just wanted to make conversation. Besides—”

Haechan walked over and placed a hand on Jaemin's shoulder. “You’ve such a good girl on your hands, and you shouldn’t have anything to worry about.”

He walked away with his food, heading back to his room. Haechan had been wanting to get under Jaemin's skin for weeks, wanting to show him how it felt to be in his shoes. The look on Jaemin's face when he saw the two of you close together was priceless.

Jaemin felt annoyed, sensing the patronizing tone in Haechan's voice. He stormed back into his room and yelled, “I don’t want you talking to him anymore!”

You were confused by his sudden outburst and startled. “What are you even talking about?”

“Oh, don’t act all stupid and innocent. I saw the way he was looking at you.”

“Okay, I think you’re overreacting. I barely know the guy, and this was our first time interacting. I think you’re making a big deal—”

“No, I’m not. Just trust me when I say I have a bad feeling about him, alright?”

“Whatever. Why do you care? I’m not your girlfriend, right?”

He instantly remembered what he had said to Haechan earlier, knowing you would bring it up.

“Listen, baby—”

“Oh, don’t start with this shit again. I’m sick of you treating me this way.”

“But you know I didn’t want to put a label on us yet.”

He always said the same thing: that he wasn’t ready and didn’t want to be serious. How long would it take for him to recognize your feelings? You was starting to get fed up with him.

“Then why am I even here with you if you don’t want to take me seriously?”

“Oh, please. We both know why you wanted to spend the night here.”

You hated how entitled he was toward you. You genuinely wanted to spend some quality time together without any expectation of sex, but that was all he seemed to think you were good for. Your anger got the best of you, and you slapped him across the face.

“You’re such a jerk. I wanted to spend time with you and enjoy your company, but all you can think about is sex. It’s pathetic.”

You started to grab your things and get ready to leave. He reached out and grabbed your arm.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?”

You shrugged him off, shot him a cold look, and said, “Home. I don’t want to be with someone who only sees me as a hookup.” With that, you slammed his door behind you.

Haechan overheard the entire conversation and threw his fists in the air. He hated how Jaemin treated you and knew you deserved better—someone like him. One way or another, he was going to make you his.

Whenever he saw you in class, you would smile and wave, but that was it. He tried to talk to you, but you would avoid him. You needed space and time to heal from the situation, and this infuriated Haechan because he thought he was getting closer to you after your conversation.

So, he took it to the next level.

He tried to learn everything about you. At first, he looked for your social media, which was easy since you were mutuals with Jaemin. Haechan never followed you, of course, but he would scroll through your posts and may or may not have jerked off to some of them. He stalked you whenever you got off work and went home since you didn’t live on campus but close to the school.

He watched you almost every night, admiring your beauty. He thought about how he could sneak into your room late at night when everyone in your house was sleeping, but he knew he couldn’t pull it off unless you were alone.

Luckily for him, Mark mentioned that your parents would be out for the week and that you were planning to throw a Halloween costume party. Haechan started coming up with a crazy plan to get himself in. Once everyone left for the night, it would be just the two of you.

Everything was going to be perfect…

You've been receiving calls from your friends ever since you began organizing everything for the party. You've been busy all day running back and forth, getting your house ready. Your friends were supposed to bring all the food and snacks right before the party started. After taking some time away from Jaemin, you decided to talk to him again. He explained that he was genuinely sorry for what he said and didn’t mean it. He sees you as more than just an outlet for his pleasure; he genuinely likes you for who you are and values your relationship. He always believed it was best for the two of you to take things slow and not rush into anything, even though you might not agree. Yet, somehow, he always manages to make you give in to his wishes.

He offered to help you decorate the place as a truce. You started working on some decorations without him and were now waiting for him to arrive. However, you kept getting random calls from an unknown number, which you initially thought were scam calls trying to get personal information, so you ignored them. But your phone wouldn’t stop ringing.

Deciding enough was enough, you picked up the phone.

“Hello? Who is this?”

Silence. All you could hear was heavy breathing on the other line. Feeling creeped out, you hung up. Not even seconds later, your phone rang again, and you were getting annoyed.

“Okay, I’m serious now. Who is this, and why do you keep calling me?”

“First of all, it’s rude to hang up before letting the other person talk, sweetie,” the mysterious man said in a low, husky voice. You couldn’t tell who it was.

“Well, you were just breathing into the phone without saying a word. What do you expect me to do?”

“Feisty one, aren’t you? I didn’t know you had such an attitude.”

Unease settled in as his tone suggested he knew you.

“Do I know you?”

“Oh, you will soon. Just know that I always have my eyes on you.” His tone was harsh and direct. “I struggled hard to get your attention, and now I’m finally glad I have it.”

You started to feel uneasy and wondered how he even got your number, but you still weren’t buying any of it.

“Yeah, right. If this is a prank, it’s a lame one. How did you get my number?”

“That you don’t need to know. But I’m being honest with you, sweetheart. This isn’t a prank.”

You started to think this might be your secret admirer who’s been leaving you love notes. You also considered the possibility that Johnny or Mark had set this up to mess with you. They both loved to pull pranks, but their jokes were usually harmless, and they wouldn’t take it this far. But who else would have your number and be willing to pull a stunt like this? It made sense that they could have shared it with whoever was on the other line since both of them had it.

You’d had enough. In a firm tone, you said, “Look, I know you’re probably one of Johnny’s or Mark’s friends trying to mess with me. Tell them this prank is just embarrassing, and they need to step it up next time. And for the record, I wouldn’t be interested in you anyways because I’m already in a serious relatio-.”

“Oh, sweetheart, we both know that’s not true.”

His bold comment caught you off guard.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You and Jaemin aren’t even official. You’re just telling yourself that to make yourself feel better, but he doesn’t even have feelings for you.”

“How do you even kn—”

“Like I said, darling, I have my eyes on you.”

A shiver ran down your spine as you realized that this might be someone you know.

“Besides, I could treat you way better than him. He’s no good for you.”

Before you could respond, you heard a knock at your door.

It must be Jaemin.

“Oh, looks like your wannabe prince charming has arrived. Go be with him one last time, because once I’m through with you, you won’t need him anymore.”

“I—”

“See you later, sweetheart.”

With that, he hung up. You sank to your knees as panic took over, your chest tightening. Who was this guy, and how did he know so much about you and Jaemin? Was he some kind of stalker? Could this all really be just a sick prank?

A flood of questions ran through your mind, overwhelming you. You heard another knock, snapping you out of your thoughts. With Jaemin waiting, you took a deep breath, opened the door, and let him in, first scanning the area to see if the mysterious guy was still watching you. Seeing no one, you tried to compose yourself. Jaemin noticed you were on edge and asked what was wrong. You told him everything that had happened, and he was shocked. You left out the stranger’s comment about you and Jaemin, not wanting to stir up any more issues between you two.

“Oh, baby, I’m sorry you’re going through this. Whoever this guy is, he’s a sick freak who needs to be dealt with. I can’t believe this is the same guy who’s been leaving those weird sticky notes.”

“I know�� At first, I wondered if this could be one of Johnny’s or Mark’s pranks.”

“Come on, you think Johnny or Mark would pull something this crazy?”

“No, but I have no idea who else it could be.”

“They’ll be at the party later tonight, right? Pull them aside, and ask if this is some prank. If it’s not, we’ll figure out what to do next.”

You nodded in agreement, and the two of you returned to decorating the house. You placed fake pumpkins and spiders around while Jaemin hung up skeleton streamers, letting him handle the tougher tasks. He owed you after the way he’d been treating you lately.

When you finally finished, you both slumped onto the couch, exhausted but satisfied with the setup.

“Thank you so much for your help! If I’d done this alone, I’d never be ready in time for the party.”

He gave you a warm look, his voice sincere. “No problem, love. Anything for you.”

You found it a bit off-putting whenever he use pet names, something usually a thing that couples do. He acted like you two were official but didn’t want to label it. You began to think about what the mysterious man had said on the phone and started to wonder if his words might hold some truth.

“Hey Jaemin, can I ask you something?”

He shifted his position toward you, sensing that this was going to be serious.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

"Look, I know you’re not big on labels, but I at least want to know if you have feelings for me or not. I don’t want to invest all my energy into this if you’re not even interested—"

Before you could finish, he cupped your face with both hands and kissed you passionately.

“Of course I have feelings for you, I always have. I know I haven’t been treating you the best, and I’m just terrible at communicating my feelings. It really takes me time to open up, but I only care about you, alright?"

You nodded and believed what he was saying. But now there was a noticeable tension in the air, and you began to feel overwhelmed. You could see the lust in his eyes, and it was clear that he wanted you badly. The tension became too much, and you both started to passionately kiss. You straddled his lap, feeling yourself melt against him. He wrapped both hands around your waist and slowly lowered them to cup your ass. You whimpered in response, not wanting him to stop touching you like this.

“Mhm, you like that? You’re already shaking for me, pretty girl.”

The fact that he called you “pretty” made you feel hot all over. He always knew how to make you flustered. Too embarrassed to say anything, all you could do was respond. He flipped you onto your back on the couch, positioning himself on top of you.

“Let me take it from here.”

He resumed kissing you, moving down to your neck. One of his hands lifted your shirt and squeezed your chest. A loud moan escaped your lips, and you felt him smirk against your skin. Then he twisted your nipple, eliciting a yelp of pleasure as you threw your head back against the couch. You didn’t want him to stop. With his other hand, he slid down to your panties and noticed the dampness forming between your legs.

“Oh, look what we have here. How are you already so wet for me?”

His teasing drove you wild, and you felt hot and bothered ever since he confessed his feelings for you. That reassurance was what you had been waiting for, and it felt amazing knowing he felt the same way. He pulled your panties aside and began to finger your wet core. He didn’t waste any time, shoving two fingers inside you, and you eagerly welcomed him. You became a babbling mess, unable to form coherent sentences. He knew how much you loved this and took it a step further, rubbing your clit with his thumb. You wanted to cum right then and there, unable to stop moaning about how good it felt.

“P-please don’t stop…”

Your plea only spurred him on, and he didn’t slow down. He could feel you getting close, your walls pulsing around his fingers.

“I’m g-gonn cu-”

Right before you were about to climax, he pulled his fingers out. You winced at the emptiness now settling in your core.

“I’m sorry, baby, but I need to be inside you now.”

He lowered his joggers and pulled out his cock. He grabbed your legs, pushed them back, and thrust his length deep inside you. You felt overstimulated and ready for another round.

He began to fuck you at a rough, sloppy pace. Whenever you had sex, he expected you to keep up with him when he got carried away like this. Sometimes, though, he took his time and gave you all his attention, but tonight wasn’t one of those nights. This time, he barely looked at you, his eyes closed as he focused on his pleasure. He picked up the pace even more, and you could sense he was getting close. You weren’t even close to cumming and wished he would slow down. It had barely been a minute, and he was already on the brink.

“F-fuck, baby, I’m close…I’m going to cum in your mouth this time—open up—”

You didn’t argue; you opened your mouth. He pulled your hair with one hand and shoved your face onto his length. You felt a rush of his cum flow down your throat, but it was too much, so you tapped on his arm to pull out. He finished on your face and chest.

“God, that was amazing. I’m sorry if I rushed things at the end; you just made me feel so fuckin’ good, you know?”

You could only nod in response, barely able to meet his gaze.

“Hey, did you at least cu—”

Before he could finish, you both heard a knock at the door. It was probably one of your friends coming over with snacks and drinks. Glancing at the time, you realized the party was starting in less than an hour. Panic set in as you took in your half-naked state.

“Fuck, I think that’s Jisung. He said he would come a little early to help set up. I can’t let him see us like this—”

“Hey, don’t worry. Why don’t you go take a shower and clean yourself up? I’ll let him know you’re getting ready and help him out!”

You gave him a quick kiss to thank him and rushed to the bathroom to get ready for the party.

You were all dressed up in a costume and decided to be a witch. You had the whole getup with the broom and hat. You wore a ruffled black dress that accentuated your figure and lifted your chest. You were still thinking about what had happened between you and Jaemin earlier and wished he had at least made you finish instead of leaving you feeling unsatisfied. You were hoping that once everyone leaves your house you guys can go at it again.

An hour later, your party was in full swing, and it felt like the whole school had shown up. This was what happened when you left Johnny in charge of inviting people; he knew practically everyone. It didn’t matter to you as long as people were having a good time. But speaking of Johnny, you still wanted to talk to him and Mark about the strange calls you had been receiving.

Hours passed, and before long, it was Halloween.

After spending what felt like forever looking for Johnny, you finally spotted him arriving late as usual, dressed as the Joker. You saw that he was dressed as the Joker, while Mark stood beside him, once again in his Spiderman costume. They were both drinking and having a good time. You walked over to greet them, and they both stood up to hug you.

“Oh hey, sorry we’re late. We had to pre-game beforehand,” Johnny said with an apologetic smile.

“Yeah, it’s really his fault. If it were me, I would’ve been here on time,” Mark chimed in.

“Dude, no you wouldn’t. Besides, you’re only here because I invited you. I could’ve easily not told you about it,” Johnny retorted.

“Well, I would’ve known about the party regardless since you decided to invite literally EVERYONE from school,” Mark shot back.

There they go again, bickering like an old married couple. You felt your annoyance rising and chimed in.

“GUYS, can you not do this right now? I need to talk to both of you in private.”

They stopped arguing, noticing the concern in your eyes. They followed you into the empty hallway, where there was no one else around.

“Listen, I know you guys like to pull pranks on people, but don’t drag me into it.”

They exchanged confused looks.

“Umm, what are you talking about? We didn’t pull any pranks on you,” Johnny replied, still looking lost.

“Are you serious? This isn’t funny. I’ve been getting calls from some strange guy saying he’s watching me and leaving weird notes in my bag.”

Mark and Johnny each placed a hand on your shoulders, their expressions sincere.

“We’re serious. Whatever’s going on with you isn’t our doing. But it sounds scary, and you should involve the police if it escalates further,” Mark said.

At that moment, you realized they were telling the truth.

“Yeah, if he calls again, I’ll report him to the police. Sorry for pinning this on you guys. I should’ve known you wouldn’t do anything this crazy.”

They both hugged you, and Johnny added, “Hey, it’s all good. We like to joke around a lot, but never to this degree. Whoever this guy is sounds like a creep.”

“Yeah, I know. Anyway, I won’t hold you guys up too long. Enjoy the party! I’m going to get some fresh air outside.”

“Alright, if you need us for anything, just call.”

You nodded and went your separate ways.

Making your way to the patio, you thought you’d be alone, but to your surprise, someone was already there. He wore a black leather jacket, gloves, black pants, and heavy-duty boots, topped off with a Ghostface mask to complete the look.

Such a cliché.

“Nice costume you’ve got there,” you said, trying to make conversation.

Haechan turned to you, trying to act normal, though he hadn’t expected to see you so soon. He had planned to wait outside until everyone left, then sneak inside when you were alone. But the party had lasted longer than he anticipated, and he didn’t want to seem suspicious around you.

“Ah, thanks! I had this mask lying around in my closet and wanted to wear it tonight.”

You could tell he was lying and called him out.

“Let me guess, you bought it last minute and couldn’t find anything better to wear?”

“Aww, how did you know?”

“Oh come on, everyone dresses up as Ghostface for Halloween. It’s kind of basic, if you ask me. No offense.”

“Ouch! Tell me how you really feel?” he said playfully.

“Sorry, I’ve just been stressed out all day and I’m lashing out at people. My apologies.”

He noticed you started to fidget and suggested that you both sit down on the outdoor sofa.

“Hey, it’s okay! I know we may not know each other, but I’m willing to hear you out.”

“Are you sure? You should be inside with the others, having fun. I don’t want to dump all my problems on you.”

“I am fine being just right here with you.”

You don’t know why, but you feel your body tense up a bit hearing him say that.

He leaned back on the couch, both arms spread across the back, ready to hear what you had to say.

“Besides, parties aren’t my scene. I only came here because a friend of mine really wanted me to come. Now tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Alright, I got this weird call earlier today from this mysterious guy saying that he is watching me at all times, and it’s been creeping me out. I've also been receiving these notes in school, and I’m thinking it’s from the same guy.”

He knows that you are talking about him, and he has to act normal about it.

“Wow, that's kind of scary. I mean, maybe it’s just someone trying to mess with you, being that it's Halloween and all.”

“At first, I thought it was a prank done by my two other friends, but when I asked them about it, they both said it wasn’t them.”

He switched his position, crossed his arms, and was now manspreading beside you. You couldn't quite understand why, but even though you had no idea who this guy was or what he looked like under that mask, he still seemed so attractive to you. You tried to keep your composure, shifted in your seat, and pressed your thighs together. You knew you shouldn’t feel this way toward anyone but Jaemin, but Ghostface was kind of doing something to you right now.

He noticed the subtle effect he was starting to have on you. He didn’t want to make it obvious, though, and just acted like he didn't notice. You can’t see it, but he has the biggest smirk on his face right now.

“Huh, that's weird. What did he even write on the notes?”

“Well, at first, they were sweet and innocent about how pretty he thought I was and how they liked the way I styled my hair. But down the line, it just got creepier and sexual, and I…” You began to glance down at your lap, fiddling with your thumbs.

He noticed that you were starting to get uncomfortable from just talking about it, so he just backed off.

“Hey, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But have you thought about reporting it to the authorities?”

“Only if he calls me again.”

You said in a blunt tone while giving him a deadpan look. He knows that you aren’t messing around this time. It wasn’t going to stop him because he knew he was going to get what he wanted by the end of tonight.

He scooted closer to you and placed a hand on your thigh. Your body went stiff, and you fell frozen in your spot.

“If this is really bothering you that much, you should end the party early so you can go to bed and sleep on it. You seem on edge; all these people at your house aren't going to make it any better.”

You started to feel warm inside from the way he was caressing your thigh. You shouldn’t feel this sensitive. He then proceeded to get up and said,

“Well, I’m going to head out now; it’s starting to get late. I hope you figure out your little stalker problem soon, sweetheart.”

You were taken aback by the sudden nickname and it almost felt familiar to you. You said your goodbyes to him and wished him a good night. He closed your patio door, and you decided to stay outside for a little while.

You wondered what he looked like under the mask…

Some time passed, and as the night went on, you started to feel more and more anxious. You paced back and forth on the patio, still trying to figure out who would even try to stalk you like this. Jaemin spent the whole night looking for you, and he asked Johnny where you were. Johnny told him where to find you, and Jaemin headed towards the backyard. He went outside to your patio and saw you pacing back and forth, shaking.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? I was looking for you all night, and I see you here hiding out from your own party.”

You looked up at him, and he could tell how freaked out you were. He went over to hug you, and you rested your head on his chest. He slowly patted your head and tried to calm you down.

“Now tell me what’s going on.”

You filled him in on everything that happened and how you talked to Mark and Johnny, who said that it wasn't them pulling pranks on you. Jaemin was very protective of you, and he wanted to keep you safe at that moment.

“So what are you going to do now?”

“I think it’s best if I end the party early and let everyone go home. I’m starting to get pretty tired, and I just want all of these people out of my house now,” you said with a slight laugh.

“Hey, let me at least spend the night here with you. I want to be able to protect you if anything happens.”

You loved how sweet Jaemin was, and you agreed to his offer. Together, you went back inside, stopped the music, and told everyone that the party was over. As guests started to leave, your house gradually fell silent.

Now it was just you and Jaemin.

You both made your way to your room, where you lay back on your bed, staring at the ceiling while Jaemin stood above you, looking down.

“Hey, on the bright side, you threw a really good Halloween party. Everyone seemed to have fun,” Jaemin said, trying to comfort you.

“Yeah… I just wish this wasn’t happening to me, you know? Like, why me? What did I do to deserve this?” Tears formed in your eyes as you covered your face with your hands, trying to hide your emotions. Jaemin quickly rushed to your side, sitting on the bed and attempting to comfort you. He gently pulled your hands away from your face and wiped away your tears.

“Hey, none of this is your fault. Whoever is doing this to you is just a loser trying to mess with your head.”

Jaemin was right. Whoever was behind this was just a creep projecting their weird fantasies onto you. You looked directly into his soft eyes and felt like you could melt for him, just as you had earlier in the day.

“Hey, let’s not dwell on this anymore, alright? I wish we had spent more time together during the party. Where were you most of the night, anyway?”

“Oh, I was outside in the backyard for most of the time. I wanted to be left alone. When I first got there, I thought I would be alone, but there was some guy dressed as Ghostface chilling on my patio. I talked to him a bit, but he just left.”

“Ghostface… I don’t remember seeing anyone in that costume. Did you get his name?”

“That’s the thing; for some reason, it slipped my mind, and I forgot to ask. He didn’t stay long at the party, anyway. He said it wasn’t really his scene, so that’s probably why you didn’t see him.”

Jaemin didn’t think much of it and decided to change the subject.

“Anyway, you didn’t even comment on my costume. What do you think?”

You were so distracted by everything that you hadn’t even acknowledged his outfit. He had chosen a classic vampire costume but with a twist—his shirt was sleeveless, revealing his toned arms. To be honest, you couldn’t stop looking at them and wished he could pin you down with them. Ever since he left you feeling a little dissatisfied earlier, you wanted to go another round with him. You sat up on your bed, facing him, and traced small circles on one of his arms, giving him a bashful look.

“I think you look good, even though you chose one of the most basic costumes in the book.”

He scoffed playfully, acting hurt by your comment. “Says the one who is dressed as a witch.”

“Hey, in my defense, my priority was making sure the party ran smoothly, and I didn’t have time to come up with a more creative costume.”

You both laughed and as you resumed looking at each other, the lust in your eyes grew palpable. He started to lower his hand onto your thigh, slowly rubbing it back and forth. Then, he leaned in to kiss you, and you welcomed his advances. As he climbed on top of you, you moaned beneath him. Just as things were getting serious between you two, Jaemin’s phone began to ring. Initially, he considered ignoring it, but when he saw it was his mom, he knew he had to answer. You both paused what you were doing and he stepped out of the room for a moment so he could take the call. When he returned, he wore a sad expression.

“I’m sorry to do this to you, but my mom got called in to work last minute, and I have to go watch my little sister. Do you think you’ll be fine on your own?”

“Oh, yeah, I will. Plus, it’s getting pretty late anyway, and I’m just going to sleep. I’ll be fine, really!”

He apologized once more, kissed you on the forehead, and then left your house, leaving you alone.

Or so you thought…

Little did you know, Haechan had been hiding out in your closet. After he had left you by yourself on the patio, he claimed he was going home, but in reality, he went upstairs to your room to rummage through your things. He even stole a pair of your panties and took off the mask for a moment to breathe in your scent, reveling in it. He had been waiting for you to heed his earlier advice and kick everyone out so it could just be the two of you.

But when Haechan heard your and Jaemin's voices nearing your room, he panicked and quickly hid in your closet. He had been planning to sneak out once both of you were asleep, intending to come after you another night. However, he got lucky tonight with Jaemin having to leave you alone so abruptly.

He was waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Peering through the crack of the closet door, he saw you passed out on your bed, looking peaceful. You were so tired that you had forgotten to change out of your costume. Watching you sleep, he thought you looked so pretty that he almost hesitated to touch you.

But he just couldn’t help it when you looked so easy for him to take. He started by lightly squeezing your chest with his gloved hands. He had always wanted to know how your tits would feel in his hands, and he loved it. He noticed you started to shake a bit and was afraid you might wake up, but you were still fast asleep.

So he decided to take it a step further.

With his free hand, he went down to touch your pussy and noticed how wet you were. It was probably because of Jaemin earlier. Haechan's blood was boiling, and he wanted to be the one to make you feel this good.

He slowly slid your panties off and slipped a finger inside you, noticing how quickly you were soaking his gloves.

“God, you’re such a slut. He barely even touched you, and you’re already this fucking wet for him,” he mumbled under his breath so you wouldn’t wake up. You began to fidget around in your sleep, and he started to get on edge. It turned him on to see you become such a mess for him, even though you were fast asleep.

He decided enough was enough and shoved another finger inside you while simultaneously rubbing his thumb against your clit. You started to toss and turn even more, and he didn’t even care if you woke up at that point; he just wanted to make you cum.

You began to slowly wake up, thinking it was Jaemin who was making you feel this good. You said, “Baby, what do you think you—”

Before you could finish your sentence, as you began to open your eyes, you saw it wasn’t Jaemin touching you, but he was wearing a Ghostface costume. It looked like the same guy you had talked to earlier that night.

“H-hey what are y-you do-”

He pulled his fingers out of you and pushed them down your throat, making you taste yourself. With his other hand, he pinned your wrist above your head while pressing his thigh against your cunt.

“Oh, rise and shine, my love. It seems that you’re finally awake. You see, I was just having a little fun. I mean, look at you. How could I not?”

You were still trying to process everything that was happening to you right now. Why was the Ghostface guy from earlier still in your house, and why was he doing this to you? You tried to fight back, but he was simply too strong and bigger than you. He had the physical advantage, and you felt so frail underneath him.

“Now you’re probably wondering who I am and why I’m doing all this to you. Well, if you haven’t guessed it by now, I’m the one who’s been stalking you and who called you earlier today."

Goosebumps spread across your body as fear set in. He spoke in a cold tone as if he didn’t care about how he had been treating you. You tried to speak, but with his fingers deep in your throat, it was difficult. A hint of remorse flickered in his eyes, and he withdrew his fingers. You coughed and gasped for air, struggling to catch your breath.

“W-why are you even doing this to me?”

He began to caress your face with his hand, and when you turned away from his touch, he grabbed your jaw to make you look at him.

“You better keep those pretty eyes on me, or you’re seriously going to regret it. As for why I’m doing this... to be honest, I’ve been obsessed with you for quite some time now. It was only a matter of time before I sneaked into your room and took what I’ve been wanting so badly-” He lowered his hand from your jaw down to your neck and began to squeeze around your throat.

“You.”

His words sent shivers down your spine, leaving you gasping for air once again. You tried to beg and plead for him to stop, but it only made him harder; he was practically getting off on seeing you struggle like this.

He loved to see the fear in your eyes and was savoring every moment of this. He wanted to take it up a notch and make you even more scared. With his other hand, he unzipped his jacket, and from the inside pocket, he pulled out a knife. Your eyes widened, and you began to shake and shiver out of fear.

“Shh, sweetheart, I’m not going to hurt you with this. I would never do such a thing...”

You didn’t believe a word he was saying. You couldn’t understand how he had managed to sneak into your house and get a hold of you like this. He started to caress the dull part of the knife against your face, and you squirmed.

“P-please, just stop all of this…”

“Why should I? You look so pretty all scared for me, I’m just having some fun.”

You begin to tense up beneath him as you feel tears start to form in your eyes. He smirks underneath his mask and he brings himself closer to you and tilts your head to the side.

“Aww, are you starting to cry, my love? That’s only going to turn me on even more…”

You felt so disgusted by the way he was talking to you. You were scared out of your mind right now, and you wished Jaemin didn’t have to leave so soon.

“Besides, Jaemin makes you cry way more than I do.”

You were taken aback by how this guy even knew about your relationship with Jaemin. He never talked about you to many people and preferred to keep your relationship private, just as you did.

“How do you—”

“How many times do I have to tell you? I always have my eyes on you.”

He slowly started to drag the knife down your face, moving it toward your neck as he released your throat.

“I see how he makes you cry whenever you're alone at night after arguing with him for the millionth time, or all the times he doesn’t even look your way at school and ignores you the day after you argue.”

You hated how much he seemed to know about your relationship with Jaemin; it only deepened your pain.

“Even after everything he’s done to you, you still run your pretty ass back to him. God, you can be so stupid sometimes.”

He pressed the knife against your throat.

“Now imagine my surprise when I called you earlier today and saw you welcome that jerk with open arms and—”

He began to rub circles against your warmth.

“Open legs. You’re such a slut; the sex can’t be that good. He didn’t even let you come again, did he?”

You hated how accurate he was. You always found yourself running back to Jaemin despite all the awful things he’d done to you. But you tried to defend him, saying, “Well, we w-were going to try it again tonight, and I—"

All he did was laugh in your face. Even he knew you weren’t sure of yourself, the hesitation clear in your voice. He could tell you were starting to have doubts. Then he moved the sharp edge of the knife against your sternum, and you squirmed away from him, but you weren’t going anywhere since he still had you pinned down.

“Ah, baby, don’t move around too much, or you’ll hurt yourself. Plus, we both know he wasn’t going to do shit to you tonight. He was probably going to rush into things as always, leaving you unsatisfied. While I, on the other hand—”

He slowly dragged the knife along your costume, slicing it down the middle.

“Would never leave you feeling unsatisfied and would always make you feel good, because that, my love, is what you deserve.”

You were now exposed, left in nothing but your black lacy bra and panties.

“God, you look so beautiful,” he said breathlessly.

He used one of the ripped pieces of your costume as a makeshift rope to tie your hands together, freeing himself from having to pin them down. You looked so helpless underneath him, and he was loving every second of it.

“Don’t act like you don’t want this…”

He trailed off as he started to drag the knife across your chest; the coolness of the blade against your warm body made you flinch. Your breathing quickened, and fear started to seep in again.

“You like that someone is finally giving you the love and attention you deserve.”

With that, he cut off your bra, leaving your chest exposed for him. He let out a low groan of pleasure and cursed under his breath.

“Everything about you is just perfect.”

He then used the flat side of the knife to glide over your nipples, the cool sensation sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout your body. You pulled at your restraints, wishing he would let you go.

“Aww, you’re so cute thinking you can run away from this.”

He dragged the knife across your panties, rubbing the handle against your clothed core. You let out a low whimper, and he wore a big smirk on his face. Then he used the knife to cut off your panties, clearly noticing your arousal.

You tried to close your legs to prevent him from touching you, but he held both of your legs down with his hands.

“God, sweetie. I didn't think you'd be this wet for me.”

You felt incredibly flustered by how much he was starting to turn you on. You didn’t even know who this guy was, yet he somehow managed to get you this worked up.

“I think it’s in your best interest to keep your legs spread open for me.”

You still didn’t want to give in to him and tried your best to hold him off. You started to move and kick him away from you.

“P-please, just l-let me go—”

He silenced you with a hard slap against your cunt.

“If you don’t do what I say, sweetheart, I’ll make this worse for you.” His voice dropped to a calm, unnervingly cold tone.

You felt intimidated by him at this moment and didn’t want to go against his words.

“Please don’t, I’m sorry—”

He delivered another slap against your pussy, catching you off guard and eliciting a soft moan. He was taken aback by the noise you made and felt a surge of desire to tease you about it.

“Aww, don’t tell me you like that, pretty girl. You’re such a slut.”

You couldn’t understand why, but his degrading words ignited something within you. Jaemin would never talk to you like this and rarely said anything degrading, but when Ghostface did, it only turned you on. You found yourself starting to open your legs for him, not wanting to provoke him any further. He liked that you were finally beginning to listen.

“That’s my girl. Stay nice and obedient for me.”

He began to lightly pat the flat edge of the knife against your pussy, specifically targeting your clit. The coolness of it against your warmth made you squirm.

“Ah, ah, remember I said don’t move, sweetie. We wouldn’t want you to get hurt now.”

You tried to stay still, but it was nearly impossible when he teased you like this. Haechan thought to himself that he could drive you even crazier. With the handle of the knife, he started rubbing it against your clit, making you let out a moan.

“You like this, princess? Who would’ve thought you were just as much of a freak as I am?”

You hated how he compared himself to you as if you were the same. Then, he lowered the handle of the knife against your opening and slowly shoved it into your core. You immediately threw your head back against your pillow, letting out a yelp of pleasure. He thrust it in and out at a slow pace, making you wince.

He positioned himself on top of you, continuing to pound into your cunt with the knife while pinching and squeezing your nipples. He was overstimulating every part of your body right now. It was only a matter of time before you caved in for him.

“Don’t tell me you actually like this. Can you be any more pathetic?”

His humiliating words only intensified your arousal. You didn’t even know you could be into any of this. You were too turned on by what he was doing to talk back. He didn’t like that very much and began to shove the handle into you at a rough pace while he let go of your chest. He then rubbed his fingers against your clit.

“When I ask you a question, I expect you to give me an answer,” he said in a stern tone.

You couldn’t hold out any more and surrendered.

“P-please, g-go faster. I n-need you so bad… fuck.”

You couldn’t help it; the look on your face was priceless. He wore a playful smirk, clearly reveling in how quickly you had given in.

He finally had you wrapped around his little finger.

“Aww, you need me, sweetie? How badly do you want it?” he teased.

“S-so b-bad… ah, I think I’m going to cu-”

He already knew you were getting close; you started making a mess around the handle, forming a puddle beneath you. He shoved it into you at a rougher pace and rubbed your clit fast with his other hand until you instantly came all over the knife, and he continued to fuck you through your orgasm.

"That’s it, my love. Let it all out for me."

You reached the peak of your climax and fell breathless. However, he wasted no time shoving the handle of the knife down your throat.

“Now be a good girl and taste yourself for me.”

You were caught off guard by his actions, letting him do what he wanted as you sucked your juices off the handle.

“Mhm, there’s my girl. Get some practice, because you’re about to suck me off next.”

Your eyes widened at his words. You barely felt like you could go another round, and now he wanted you to please him? Seeing your eyes glazed over and your tongue swirling against the handle was making him hard. He began to shove it deeper into your throat, making you gag. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and Haechan couldn’t handle it anymore. He took the handle off your mouth and placed it on your bedside table. Then, he sat at the edge of your bed and made you kneel in front of him.

He zipped down his pants, exposing himself as your hands remained tied behind your back. He smirked and lightly tapped his cock against your face.

“I know this isn’t your first time, so you know what to do, princess. Blow me.”

You didn’t waste any time, starting by slowly licking your way up his shaft. You began at the base and made your way to the tip, tasting the pre-cum that dripped out of him. Growing impatient, he gripped your hair, shoving your face down onto his length. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he thrust into your throat, making it hard to manage with your hands tied. You wanted to grip his thighs as he fucked your throat so vigorously, and the way you gagged around him only drew a grunt of pleasure from him. He threw his head back, clearly lost in the moment, then let go of your hair. But you continued to move up and down his cock, loving every second of it.

“Fuck, baby, you’re doing such a good job for me. I can’t wait to ruin you after this.”

The thought of him having his hands on you again turned you on even more. You felt him start to pulse in your throat, and he was getting close. Just before he was about to cum, he pulled your hair and shoved your face into the bed, lifting your hips to meet him. In one smooth heated motion, he pressed into your needy core, pulling a moan from your lips that nearly escaped as a scream.

“Fuck, how are you so wet for me all over again? You're dripping all over me, princess.”

You were flustered, struggling to understand why you were still so aroused by him. He bullied his way deep inside you, the tip of his cock pressing against your walls. All you could do was moan out how good he made you feel, and he occasionally spanked your ass just to see your reaction. Tears rolled down your cheeks from the overwhelming pleasure.

“Aww, there you go crying again. God, if it wasn’t for this mask right now, I’d lick all your pretty tears away.”

Then it hit you.

You’d been going at it with this guy for a while now, and you still didn’t know what he looked like. The fact that you didn’t know only turned you on more. With this realization, you squeezed around his cock, and he grunted out pleasure.

“Fuck, baby, do that again for me.”

You were so lost in your own world that you completely didn’t hear anything he just said.

He grabbed your restrained hands like handles, slamming you down onto his dick, which definitely got your attention, pulling a moan from your lips that was practically a scream.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours? You’re thinking way too much for me, love and you can’t even focus on what I’m saying."

He started fucking you at a rough pace, and you shoved your face into the pillow, unable to handle everything. He let go of your wrists and grabbed your hair instead, bringing your face close to his. Your head rested against his shoulder as he whispered in your ear, “I don’t want a single thought in that head unless I put it there.”

He wasn’t messing around anymore and he wanted your full attention on him.

“Besides-”

He pushed your face back down into the bed, hovering over your back as he whispered in your ear, “I don’t want you thinking about Jaemin anymore after I’m done with you.”

Your eyes widened, and you completely forgot about him. You were so immersed in what you had going on with the masked guy that you didn’t even consider how Jaemin would feel about this. Haechan noticed a picture of you and Jaemin on the nightstand.

“Oh, look at that, baby. You and him look so happy together.” He got closer to your ear, and his words sent chills down your spine. “Wait until he finds out you let a stranger in a Ghostface mask fuck you balls deep into your bed…I mean, how much more pathetic can you be?”

A wave of guilt washed over you. You hated how he was humiliating you like this, yet you were still aroused by it. You started to tighten around him once again, and he let out a low moan in response.

“Atta girl, you’re finally listening to me. You know I find it so interesting that you don’t even know what I look like yet I’m turning you on so much.”

He wrapped his gloved hands around your throat, and you could feel the rugged leather material pressing against your skin.

“You’re so fucking gross for being turned on by this. Here I thought I was the biggest pervert between the two of us. Turns out it’s you.”

You let out a moan at his degrading words, completely giving in. You didn’t care anymore; you embraced it. Jaemin never made you feel this way, and this masked guy was doing so much more than he ever could.

All of a sudden, he changed the position, and now you were straddling him, sitting in his lap. With both hands firmly gripping your waist, he looked up at you, a playful glint in his eyes visible beneath his mask.

“Ride me.”

You were caught off guard by his demand, but you didn’t have any problem complying. He finally untied your hands, and you grabbed his length, slowly lowering yourself onto him. A gasp escaped his lips as his head fell back, overwhelmed by the sensation of being inside you again.

You whimpered as you tried to adjust to him, the pain quickly mixing with pleasure as he pulled you down onto him, your moan turning into a scream of bliss. You began to move, bouncing on him with a quick, eager pace, yet your thoughts wandered, wondering about the face hidden beneath his mask. You couldn’t shake the urge to ask.

“I’m sorry to ask you this, but… would you take off your mask? I want to s-see you...” The words spilled out before you could stop yourself.

For a moment, he hesitated, but when he caught the pleading look in your eyes, he couldn’t resist. The thought of your reaction only fueled him, his hands gripping firmly onto your waist as he thrust into you.

“You know what? Since you’ve been so obedient, I think you’ve earned it. Go ahead, take it off.”

His voice was low and teasing, and while he continued to move inside you, you slowly reached up, pulling off his mask. With both hands, you slowly began to lift off his mask, and you couldn’t believe it.

It was Haechan, Jaemin’s roommate.

This all makes so much sense now, especially why he knew so much about your relationship.

The realization left you speechless, mouth slightly agape as Haechan laughed, savoring your stunned expression. “Baby, I left you scared and speechless. You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he teased, making a cheesy joke out of the situation.

Humiliation and shame flooded over you, and you instinctively pushed against his chest to stop, but he only tightened his grip. Shifting positions, he laid you back, your hands pinned beside you as he thrust into you harder, his pace relentless.

“Aww, just a second ago you were bouncing that pretty ass on me, and now you’re all shy because you realized it’s me?” he taunted, angling himself to hit deeper, making you cry out as he struck your most sensitive spot.

“You’re so fucking pathetic, it’s not even funny,” he taunted, watching as you squirmed beneath him. You had never felt so humiliated in your life, especially knowing that Haechan was the one behind all of this. You shouldn’t have been enjoying any of this, yet here you were, spread out for him, letting him take you completely.

Haechan leaned down, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. You whimpered into his mouth as he trailed down to your neck, his teeth and tongue teasing your skin with bites and kisses that left you breathless.

“Haechan… you make me feel so good…” you murmured, your voice barely a whisper.

Hearing you finally moan his name pushed him over the edge. He began to wrap his hand around your throat, gripping lightly. “You like this, my pretty girl? Admit it, you wanted me from the moment you saw me back at the apartment. I saw that look you gave me when I pressed myself against you."

You whimpered, shaking your head in denial, though deep down you knew he was right. You had to admit that you were attracted to Haechan the moment you saw him. He looked so attractive in his hoodie, with that sleepy expression on his face making you want him to bend you over right then and there. But with Jaemin weighing on your mind, you weren’t going to act on your attraction to Haechan.

“F-fine. Yes, I did want you,” you admitted. Just hearing you say that makes him want to cum for you right then and there, but he holds himself back.

He didn’t want to be like Jaemin, after all.

“Mmm, that’s my girl. I love how honest you’re being with me now,” he purred, lifting your legs, and pressing them back near your head as he thrust deep into you. “I think it’s time we wrap this up, don’t you think?”

“F-fuck yes, please, just… use me,” you gasped, feeling utterly under his spell, craving every bit of him.

Without hesitation, he drove himself deep into you, and you gripped the sheets as the pleasure intensified. He kissed you deeply, tongues clashing, both of you lost in the blissful sensation. Pulling back, he stared into your eyes, almost in disbelief that you were truly in the palm of his hands.

“You know, at first, I felt a little bad for doing this to you. Seeing you cry to Jaemin about me almost made me want to leave you alone.” He continued to thrust, bullying his way into your sensitive spot again, and both of you nearing the edge. You wrapped your legs around his waist, and arms around his neck, bringing him even closer.

“But seeing how much you enjoy it?” His voice was low, almost mocking. “I don’t feel sorry for you at all.” His words sent a wave of shivers through your entire body.

"You even asked him earlier what you did to deserve this," he murmured, leaning down to whisper in your ear. His tone was cocky, almost teasing.

“Well… nothing, really. I just wanted to do this because I know I can. I know you couldn't resist me, that you wouldn’t stop me from taking what I want." His words made you whimper, and you hid your face in the nape of his neck, overwhelmed.

"So let it happen, love," he continued, his voice dripping with confidence. "I know you want it too… and I'm getting close."

Hearing how sure he had been about you from the beginning only heightened your arousal. He knew that one way or another, he was going to have you here, completely spread open for him. His pace quickened, each thrust bringing you both closer to the edge.

"F-fuck, baby," he gasped, voice strained. "Where do you want it?"

With your legs wrapped around him, you pulled him deeper, meeting his gaze, and in a voice soft yet full of desire you replied

“Inside, please don’t pull out.”

That encouraged him to thrust faster, and soon you both finished together, riding out each other's orgasms. Your moans grew louder and louder, and you couldn't help yourself.

“Mhm, that’s it, sweetheart. Scream for me.”

You yelled out for him as he emptied his load deep inside your aching cunt. Both of you looked down to see the mess you had made, splattered across the sheets and even on his pelvis, leaving some of your juices along his happy trail. Breathless, you gasped for air as he quickly reached for a bottle of water from your bedside table and placed a pillow behind your head. It was the least he could do. Noticing how you were drifting off to sleep, he gently cleaned you up and tucked you back into bed.

“Please don’t tell Jaemin about this. It should come from me first.”

“Oh, does this mean you’re finally going to leave him?”

You stared up at the ceiling, reflecting on everything that had transpired—not just with Jaemin, but with Haechan as well. You realized you deserved better and shouldn’t have to settle for less.

“I mean, yeah. But for this to work, you’ve got to stop stalking me.”

He smirked and leaned down to give you one last passionate kiss on the lips.

“Can’t make any promises… Now, you have a good night.”

He grabbed his mask and headed toward your bedroom door, he glanced back at you with a grin.

“And oh, happy Halloween…”

666 notes · View notes

adrienneleclerc · 6 months ago

Text

Wrong Name

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Charles pranks Y/N by calling her the wrong name to see how she would react, it did not go well

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: inspired by @23victoria post “what did you call me” also I figured Y/N put Charles through two TikTok pranks, it’s only fair Charles pulls a prank on her. Same universe as “say it back” and “can you get out?” Also, super sorry if your name is Romina.

Charles was on TikTok because he couldn’t sleep and saw a video where a girl called her boyfriend by the wrong name. He decided to take it upon himself to pull this prank on his girlfriend. He just hopes she doesn’t get angry.

“Muñeco, im getting groceries for dinner, I’ll be back soon!” Y/N calls out.

“Okay, Mon ange.” Charles said, getting off the couch to say goodbye to his girlfriend properly. “I love you.” Charles kissed Y/N.

“I love you too.” Y/N said before leaving. Charles decided to play video games and when he heard the door open 30 minutes later, that’s when he decided to put his plan into action. Y/N was putting the groceries away in the fridge when…

“Hey Romina, what did you buy?” Charles said and Y/N closed the fridge and the bags that were on the counter were long forgotten because she was now in front of the TV.

“What did you say?” Y/N asked.

“I said ‘hey Y/N, what did you buy?’ Are you feeling alright?” Charles asked, pausing his game. He felt so guilty for the gaslighting.

“The hell you did, you just called me Romina. Who the fuck is Romina?” Y/N asked in a louder tone.

“Romina, calm down.” Charles said and that’s when he knew he fucked up.

“First of all, you never tell a woman to calm down, have you learned NOTHING from watching TV or having other girlfriends? Second, you just called me Romina AGAIN! So please, calmly tell me…” Y/N said as she went to their bedroom to get one of her chanclas 🩴 “who the hell is Romina before I become like my mother and beat your ass with this chancla.”

“There’s no need to get violent, Y/N.” Charles said.

“Really? Then tell me why did you call me Romina.” Y/N said.

“It was a prank.” Charles said. “I saw a TikTok of girls calling their boyfriends by the wrong name and I wanted to see how you would react.” Charles confessed shyly.

“You chose THAT prank, specifically THAT one, to pull on me, a girl who has been cheated on before?” Y/N asked rhetorically.

“Yeah, I didn’t think it through actually.” Charles admitted.

“Menso, i was actually gonna hit you.” Y/N said.

“You love me too much to hit me.” Charles said.

“That’s true. Anyway, I have to finish putting the groceries away because someone decided to be a pendejo and prank me. Like why would you prank me? I’m a freaking delight.” Y/N said, walking save to the kitchen

“You pranked me twice, ma Belle!” Charles exclaimed, following her.

“Okay but those were cute pranks, that prank would have ended up with me in jail.” Y/N said, putting the groceries away on the fridge, freezer, and pantry.

“I would never let you go to jail.” Charles said,

“Hey, so while I’m cooking dinner, I’m gonna put on some music, okay.” Y/N said.

“Yeah that’s fine.” Charles said and they kissed. Y/N out her phone on full volume to CUIDADITO by Becky G and Chiquis, singing out loud and specific part.

“Yo no soy celosa pero si eso pasa me transformo en otra. Te poncho las llantas dormirás afuera y esa misma noche le marco a mi suegra para que recoja a la cochinada que un día parió. Te rayo el carro te quiebro los vidrios y voy a llamar a todos mis amigos para que me ayuden que en un pisteada lo arregló yo. Nomas cuidadito con ponerme el cuerno que todo eso lo hago y hasta más me atrevo y no mas te advierto que cuidadito con ponerme el cuerno de la que te salvaste da gracias a dios que nomas fue una broma.” Y/N sung, changing the last two words (which are originally ‘un sueño ’ which means ‘a dream’). I’m not a jealous woman but if that were to happen, I become a different person. I’ll slash your tires, you’ll be sleeping outside, and I’ll call my mother in law that same night to pick up the piece of shit she gave birth to. I’ll key your car, break your windows, and I’ll call my friends so they’ll help me, I’ll handle it in one good beating. If you cheat on me, just be careful because I would do all of that and even more, I’m just warning you to be careful if you cheat on me. You got lucky, thank god it was only just a prank

“Mon ange, what’s that song about?” Charles asked curiously.

“The song is about a women who dreamt that her husband cheated on her. She would have done some crazy shit if he actually cheated her so he’s fucking lucky it was only a dream.” Y/N said with a smile.

“But you sang ‘broma’ and that’s means ‘joke’…” charles said,

“Or prank.” Y/N said,

“You sang that for me?!?” Charles yelled.

“Yes I did so you know, cuidadito.” Y/N warned.

“I Don’t know whether to be scared of you or attracted to you.” Charles confessed and Y/N laughed.

“Both work, mi Amor. You want lomo saltado or tallarines saltado?” Y/N asked.

“Whats the difference?” Charles asked.

“Lomo has French fries and is served with rice, tallarines is pasta.” Y/N said,

“Pasta please.” Charles said,

“Of course, muñeco.” Y/N said, chopping the steak into little strips while humming the music to CUIDADITO and Charles stared at her because he found himself humming too.

“You know I would never cheat on you, right Y/N?” Charles asked just to make sure.

“Of course I know you’d never cheat on me. But the song is so catchy.” Y/N commented and that made Charles feel so much better. He walked up to Y/N and hugged her from behind as she continued to chop the steak, he kissed her shoulder.

“I love you,” Charles said,

“I love you too.” Y/N said,

The End

Hope y’all liked it! A silly little one shot for giggles 🤭

#hispanic reader #latina #hispanic #wrong name #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #f1 x reader #charles leclerc #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

625 notes · View notes

landograndprix · 11 months ago

Text

╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l c.s ❞ II

part i - part iii

➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.

➪ Charles is not trying to do his best to safe your relationship but a new friendship is blossoming between you and lando.

➪ established relationship mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando

➪ thank you so much for the love this fic us getting, it honestly was just a silly idea i had, absolutely insane 😭 google translate is my bestest friend

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername

📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco

liked by landonorris, manon_roux and 412,322 others

y/nusername the day after hits different when you've got a mini you 🍷

tagged: manon_roux, noellepicard

view all 1,523 comments

manon_roux hangover central over here😩

↳ y/nusername I would too if I drank about every drink available

noellepicard nobody told you to down all that tequila

manon_roux thanks for the support you guys

formulaonef1 Manon being the wildest of them all is not something I expected 💀

julieeeexo oh yeah the day after a night out definitely hits different, I know all about it!

charlieferrari zoë with her little bow 😭

hannahh how do you have time to read? I have a 8 month old and I'm barely able to read 2 pages a day!

↳ y/nusername I'm very lucky with a daughter who never skips a single nap and loves her sleep 😅

joris__trouche just like her mother

y/nusername oh definitely 🥰

landonorizzzz the fact that joris has been paying more attention to y/n than I've seen Charles do in the last couple of weeks is fucking hilarious to me

landoscar and its all too much for little zoë leclerc 😴

carlito55 did you and charles break up?

robyn_diaz had so much fun last night, so glad we got ti meet! 🤩

↳ norrizz isn't this lando's gf? 😂

norry4 unfortunately 😂

norrizz unfortunately??

norry4 she didn't really hide the fact that she's dating lando just for her 5 seconds of fame and money 💀

oscarpastry they're robably just fwb, lando said he was single in an interview couple weeks back

noellepicard mom's big night out, great success

landonorris still alive?

↳ y/nusername barely

landonorris I know the feeling

carlandooo lando...what are you doing here? 👀

charlesherve oh god watch this be the new ship of the fandom 🙄

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername posted to their story

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername

📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc and 526,009 others

y/nusername les derniers jours de l'été ☀ (the last days of summer)

tagged: charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc

view 1,562 comments

thurthur gotta love the leclerc family 😭

manon_roux mademoiselle fille passe une journée difficile, je vois 😴 (miss girl having a tough day i see)

↳ y/nusername c'est un travail difficile d'être un bébé (it's a tough job being a baby)

manon_roux ..et quelqu'un doit le faire 🥰 (..and someone's gotta do it)

bott_ass take me to Monaco pls

joris__trouche still not an invite? 😔

↳ sharl16 joris being abandoned by his boyfriend and his boyfriends girlfriend 😔

arthurlec omg arthur and charles 😭

noellepicard j'espère que tu as passé une bonne journée, hottie ❤️ (hope you had a great day, hottie)

↳ y/nusername toujours 😘 (always)

arthur_leclerc you need to lock your phone better

↳ y/nusername or you could leave it alone?

arthur_leclerc yeah but that's not fun ☺

thurthur stop bullying your brothers girlfriend 😭

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername posted to their story

➽────────────────────────❥

Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightfdragon

Desire taglist; @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalucinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki @dark-night-sky-99 @sheslikeacurse @nerdreader @champagneproblems17 @norwayxo @sunny44 @honeymoonelvis47 @forevertcaffeinated-lee @amalialeclerc

Lando taglist: @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2

#charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc #lando norris #charles leclerc fanfic #lando norris fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #lando x reader #charles x reader

2K notes · View notes

cherienymphe · 2 years ago

Text

Bubblegum Bitch (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, attempted sexual assault, dumb!reader, bimbo!reader, kook!reader, underage drinking

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies

summary: ...because you’re just too dumb to look out for yourself, Rafe takes matters into his own hands.

You hung onto Sarah as she helped you into her house, your ankle screaming in protest with every movement. You were thinking that maybe you should’ve listened to the blonde when she told you not to climb so high on the rock, but the sunset was too pretty, and you wanted to get the perfect picture. As much as your ankle was hurting, it was kind of worth it.

“Okay, sit here, and I’ll get some ice,” Sarah told you, depositing you on her couch.

“Okay!” you chirped, distracted as you flipped through your phone to study the pictures you took. “They came out so pretty!”

You showed Sarah as she neared, and she sent you a warm smile, a soft chuckle escaping her.

“Yeah, but next time, let’s come up with a less dangerous way to get the pictures,” she advised, bag of ice in hand.

You hissed a bit when the cold touched your skin, relaxing as it started to soothe the ache.

“Your mom would kill me if you got seriously hurt again.”

You knew what Sarah was referring to, of course.

That one time you were at a bonfire and leaned too far over to roast the marshmallows, something that took forever for that particular part of your hair to grow back from. Or that time you weren’t paying attention while dipping some punch at a party, and the glass bowl holding it all fell all over you, shallow cuts adorning your feet for weeks. Your face fell some as you thought about how mad your mom had been at Sarah for not looking out for you better.

It didn’t seem fair to you.

It’s not like you were some kid who couldn’t do anything right.

“It’s just a sprain…I think,” you added, shrugging. “She doesn’t have to know.”

Sarah gave you a look at that, and just then, movement on the stairs caught your attention.

You looked up, eyes landing on a familiar face, and you smiled at the sight of him. Sarah’s brother Rafe was someone you mostly saw in passing. Sometimes you found yourself interacting with him, offering him some of your fries to which he’d dryly decline, or the odd occasion where you were in his way, hurrying to move at the mean sneer on his face. Rafe always seemed to be in a bad mood when you were around, and because Sarah assured you he was just like that, you always tried your best to cheer him up.

“Hey, Rafe,” you called.

Sarah looked over her shoulder at the sound of your voice, huffing to herself. She rolled her eyes as she turned back around, and you blinked at him when he didn’t return your smile. You watched him sigh, ignoring as you he asked Sarah where their parents were.

“Out,” the younger girl quickly replied.

You watched Rafe throw her a look at that before his gaze landed on you again.

“Any reason why she’s here?” he asked, and your brows drew together.

Something about his tone didn’t make you feel good, but you brushed it aside when Sarah just shook her head, quietly telling you to ignore him.

“I do,” she said, standing to her feet. “I’m going to get something to wrap it.”

You smiled at her as she hurried upstairs, and when you looked over, you found Rafe’s gaze on you as he leaned against the kitchen counter. You noticed that he stared at you a lot, especially when Sarah wasn’t around, and you didn’t know why. You watched his blue eyes fall to your ankle where you held the ice, and he brought the beer in his hand up to his lips.

“What happened?” he mumbled around the neck. “Try to walk and chew gum at the same time?”

You blinked, frowning a bit just as he chuckled.

“No?” you replied, confused by the odd comment. “I was taking pictures of the sunset, and I needed to get on some rocks to get a good picture…”

You trailed off when he started to laugh, shaking his head at you.

“Of course, you were,” he slowly commented. “I don’t even know why I asked.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, and you chewed on your lip, glancing away as he continued to eye you.

“Are you going to Topper’s party, tonight? I’m going with Sarah,” you tried to change the subject, smiling at him.

Rafe stared at you in silence for a while, strangely and with a frown on his face. After some time, he scoffed, pushing himself away from the counter, looking at you from beneath his lashes.

“He’s kind of my best friend, Y/N,” he slowly said. “Why wouldn’t I?”

You shuddered at the sound of your name coming from his lips. He always had a way of saying it that made you feel…uneasy. It was like when you drank just enough to feel bad but not enough to ignore it. Your chuckle was light, not thinking of that for some reason, and you nodded.

“That makes sense.”

Rafe was nearing the stairs just as Sarah reappeared at the top of them, and he kept his gaze on you for as long as possible.

“You should probably stay home though,” he threw over his shoulder. “We wouldn’t want you to fall in a hole somewhere after you’ve had too much to drink.”

Your friend hissed his name as she passed him, a deep frown on her face, but Rafe only chuckled to himself. Again, the comment had your mind wandering in confusion. Topper’s mom kept their yard to perfection, and there wasn’t a patch of uneven grass, let alone any holes. Sarah heavily sighed as she neared you with some gauze, mumbling to herself.

“He’s such an ass,” she voiced. “Seriously, just ignore him.”

That was what she always told you, but it was kind of hard to do. Rafe had a way of stealing your attention sometimes whether you wanted to give it or not, and it wasn’t just because he was pretty. He was so different from Sarah, and you guessed he fascinated you in a way. Always so grumpy and unhappy, and it seemed like no matter how much you tried to cheer him up or at least get a smile out of him, it never worked.

…and you didn’t know why.

“Don’t sweat it so much,” Kelce chuckled later that night. “Rafe is Rafe.”

He smiled at you, flicking your chin, and making you join him. Two of his friends were with him, Topper glued to Sarah’s side, and Rafe nowhere to be found. You didn’t remember their names, although you were sure you’d met them before. Their faces did look familiar, after all, and you felt bad about not being able to place them.

They didn’t seem to care much though as they returned your smile.

“That’s a cute dress,” one of them said, reaching out and pulling on the end. “You always wear the cutest stuff though.”

“Isn’t it?” you added, spinning around and making the skirt fly up a bit. “Sarah picked it out!”

“Sarah has great taste,” the other told you, eyes looking over you and admiring the dress.

You imagined he liked the color just as much as you did, and you started telling him about how it was the last one, and Sarah had to almost fight some lady for it. You were taking a sip of your drink when you took a step back, bumping into someone, and you jerked when the cold liquid spilled onto you. You gasped in shock, more than grateful when Kelce grabbed a napkin and started dabbing at the fabric.

“I got it,” you told him, reaching for it instead, but he smiled at you, insisting.

However, another hand came between you and snatched the napkin away. You blinked in shock, looking up just as Rafe’s other hand grabbed your arm, starting to pull you away.

“Hey, Rafe,” Kelce nervously chuckled. “We were just… She had an accident so…”

He trailed off, and you looked between him and Rafe as the blond pulled you away. He gave Kelce a look that you couldn’t place, the other guy and his friends sort of shrinking in on themselves.

“Uh huh,” was all Rafe said, and you stumbled with him in confusion as he led you away.

“What are you doing? Is it Sarah?”

Rafe softly chuckled to himself at that, shaking his head.

“Is it Sarah,” he mumbled, sounding more like a statement. “No, it’s not Sarah.”

He roughly let you go, making you stumble, and you frowned as he threw the napkin at you.

“Here,” he spat, huffing to himself as he looked you over. “Clean yourself up.”

You slowly did as he said, carefully watching him as he watched you, jaw clenching and eyes hard. There was that sour feeling again. Here you were, at a party and surrounded by so many people, but it strangely felt like you and Rafe were the only ones in the room. There was an uneasy feeling in your chest, and you bit your lip.

“Are you…are you mad at me?” you nervously asked.

It was a silly thing to ask because why would Rafe be mad at you? However, his rough treatment wasn’t like him. In fact, you couldn’t ever remember a time where Rafe had so much as touched you. The look he gave you was enough to curdle milk, and when he sighed, your shoulders drooped in relief.

“Nah,” he drawled, lips pressed together as his eyes met yours. “Who could be mad at you? That’d be like getting mad at a child.”

You blinked, but before you could ask him what he meant, he gruffly told you to find Sarah and stay out of trouble. You frowned a bit, still wiping at your dress as you slowly turned and did as he said. When you looked over your shoulder, Rafe was still watching you, and you guessed he wanted to make sure you found Sarah okay.

“…and…just what are you doing?”

You straightened a bit, pushing yourself to your knees as you looked up to find Rafe looking down at you. His face was pinched as he studied you, and you grinned at him, hands resting on your thighs.

“Hey, Rafe!” you suddenly remembered that he’d asked you something. “My phone fell under the couch.”

You gestured to the piece of furniture, and you were just about to bend over again when Rafe reached down to grab your arm, pulling you to your feet. You eyed him as he did the same to you before taking your place. You crossed your arms over your chest, watching him, and your confusion at his strange attitude disappeared when he reemerged with your phone. A delighted gasp left you as you reached for it, pausing when Rafe held it out of reach.

“You know, I think you’d lose your head if it wasn’t attached to your body.”

That was something your mom said often too. His eyes looked between yours, and you swallowed when he moved closer. His chest brushed against yours, and your heart raced.

“Thanks for getting it for me,” you finally said, reaching for it again to no avail.

Confusion filled you.

“If I give it to you, what will you give me?” he murmured, and you blinked, brows raising a bit.

“Well…what do you want?”

Rafe only rolled his eyes at that, chuckling before dropping your phone in your hand. You held it to you just as he moved, and you were startled by the feel of him reaching down and pulling on the end of your skirt, pulling it down some. You hadn’t even noticed that it had ridden up, and you looked at him with a smile, thanking him.

“Where’s Sarah?” he suddenly wondered, plopping down on the same couch you’d just been searching under.

“She said she was on her way, but I think she’s still with Topper.”

You watched Rafe’s blue gaze linger on your legs, and you looked down, fearful that you’d scratched yourself or something in your search for your phone. When you didn’t find anything, your eyes met Rafe’s when you looked up, and you watched the corner of his mouth curve upwards.

“You’re too nice, you know that?”

“Me?” you laughed. “I don’t think so. No nicer than anyone else.”

Rafe snorted at that, and you moved to sit down next to him as you waited for Sarah.

“If it wasn’t for Sarah, so many people on this island would eat you alive, you know.”

You didn’t understand what he meant by that, frowning, and that just seemed to amuse Rafe more. He didn’t elaborate either, opting to run his eyes over you instead, and when they landed on your skirt, he reached over to pull it down where it had ridden up some again. You softly thanked him, and he pointed at you at that, tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek.

��That,” he said, shaking his head. “That is exactly what I’m talking about.”

You curiously eyed him as he stood just as you heard a vehicle in the yard.

“You shouldn’t be thanking me for something like that,” he told you with an unreadable smile. “I might take it the wrong way.”

You watched Rafe’s back as he made his way towards the stairs, only looking away when Sarah rushed in, repeatedly apologizing.

Rafe always said things like that to you, things you didn’t quite understand. To be fair, there were a lot of things you didn’t understand, but especially the things Rafe seemed to say. Why wouldn’t you thank him for making sure your skirt was pulled down? Why would he take that the wrong way? In what way?

When you’d brought it up to Sarah one day, she’d merely scoffed and called him a sick pervert before apologizing again for leaving you alone with him.

“He’s so…sleazy, sometimes, you know?”

You didn’t know, actually. Outside of his mood swings, Rafe was at least respectful to you. At least, you felt like he was, but Sarah talked about her brother like he was the scum of the earth or something. You watched her as she sprawled over her bed, eyes trained on the ceiling.

“One minute, I swear he can’t stand you and then the next it’s like he’s too into what you’re up to.”

You frowned at that, this being news to you, and Sarah seemed to realize what she said. She sighed, pushing herself onto her stomach, and your eyes met hers.

“Rafe doesn’t like me…?”

You weren’t surprised by how much it hurt to hear. Rafe was your best friend’s brother, after all, and while you two weren’t friends, you’d never been anything but nice to him. You always tried to offer him things and ask how he was and smile at him whenever you saw him.

“It’s not that he doesn’t like you,” she confessed, throwing you a sympathetic glance. “He just doesn’t think the best of you.”

You deflated some, frowning as you tried to remember if he’d ever said anything to you that you missed.

“It’s why I hate when he comes around when you’re around. He’s always being an asshole, but don’t take it too personal, okay? He’s an asshole to almost everyone.”

You’d heard that before, but still. You’d never done anything to Rafe, and hearing this made you a little sad because Sarah didn’t even say why he didn’t like you. You sat there, feeling stumped and second guessing everything. Rafe said funny things sometimes at how much pink you wore, or he’d shake his head when some jokes had to be explained to you, and he certainly seemed to get annoyed when he came downstairs to find you bending over in the fridge.

Sarah had assured you though that Rafe was just like that.

When you found yourself at another party, you did your best to stay out of his way. You didn’t want to upset him anymore than you already had, even though you didn’t know how you’d done it. You were with one of Topper’s friends that you’d seen in passing, giggling and struggling to stand with every second that passed. As you finished the last of your drink, he quickly poured you some more, and you pressed your hand to your mouth to keep from burping.

“Sarah’s going to have to carry me home,” you told him, your words coming out more jumbled together than you’d intended.

He laughed at you, an arm snaking around your waist to help you stand. You eyed his dark hair, smiling at how it contrasted with his light eyes.

“I can take you home whenever you’re ready,” he offered, and you felt yourself perk up.

“Really? Oh my God, thank you,” you sighed out. “I always feel so bad when Sarah has to look out for me.”

His pink lips pulled into a smile, and you returned it. It felt like his hand on your waist was the only thing keeping you up, and you leaned into him, feeling beyond grateful.

“You should probably finish your drink before we go though,” he suggested, and you nodded.

He was so nice to get you another, and you didn’t want it to go to waste. He helped you put one foot in front of the other as he led you across the beach and in between the bodies. You stumbled a few times, and you thanked him each time he kept you from falling flat on your face. You asked him how he knew Topper, and when he told you they went to school together, you smacked your forehead.

Almost everyone here went to what some people dubbed as Kook Academy.

“Duh,” you giggled, shaking your head.

You were just about to ask him which car was his when you were ripped away from him. Your eyes widened in shock, and you dropped what was left of your drink as you tripped over your feet. It took you a moment to realize what was going on, and when you glanced up, you smiled at the sight of Rafe. You’d been trying to avoid him for his sake, but you were always happy to see the blond.

“Hi, Rafe!”

He wasn’t looking at you, one hand on your arm and the other pushing against the chest of your new friend. You frowned in confusion as you took in the scene, realizing they didn’t look so friendly, and you noted this was the first time you’d seen Rafe really mad before.

“What the hell, bro?”

You watched Rafe shove him away, the other guy almost falling back.

“Are you crazy? You don’t think I know what you’re trying to do?”

You looked between them, and Rafe didn’t wait around for Topper’s friend to straighten himself up. You had no choice but to follow as he dragged you away, and his fast pace made your head spin even more. You asked him to slow down, but he ignored you, and you could feel your stomach turning. When he made it to the familiar black truck, he practically pushed you inside when he opened the passenger door, and with his hands on the vehicle, he had you trapped.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked, his voice harsher than usual, and your brows knitted together. “Are you that stupid?”

You blinked at him, lips parting, and at that, Rafe slammed the door shut with a shake of his head. You stared at it for a few seconds, only sitting back and slowly putting on your seatbelt as he slid into the driver’s seat. The ride to your house was quiet, and you were reminded of what Sarah had told you. Why didn’t Rafe like you? What had you done now?

He was just as quiet when he made it to your house, and you noticed that your parents weren’t home. You struggled to get your door open, but it didn’t matter much when Rafe was suddenly there, yanking it open…and yanking you out too.

“Ow!”

He didn’t care to be careful, forcing you towards your door, and he snatched your purse before you could. You wrapped your arms around yourself, shuddering at the cool ocean breeze as you stood in your dress, the flowy skirt of it kissing your thighs. When Rafe finally got the door open, he all but shoved you inside, and this time, you did fall.

You whimpered in pain, sitting up to take off your shoes, rubbing your foot just as he slammed your door closed.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he repeated, slower this time as he brought his hands up. “Huh?”

You were drunk and confused, blinking and desperately trying to understand why Rafe was so mad. You’d done your best to avoid him all night—these past few weeks, actually. You didn’t like making anyone mad, especially Rafe considering his relation to Sarah.

“You realize he was going to hurt you, right…?”

You laughed at that, throwing Rafe a frown.

“What? Topper’s friend? No, he-.”

“He what? He plowed you with alcohol—maybe a few drugs—and was just so eager to take you home?”

You hesitated, a frown forming.

“I mean…we were drinking just like everyone else was, and I feel bad when Sarah has to take me home,” you said, much quieter now.

Rafe let out a laugh at that, and you finally decided to try and push yourself to your feet. You stumbled when Rafe neared you, so close, and your eyes widened. Rafe was so close you could feel his body heat, and he gestured to you with both hands as he leaned in.

“He was going to rape you. Do you get that?”

You flinched, chest tightening as you shook your head.

“No, he wouldn’t do that…”

“…and how do you know? You just met him, tonight,” Rafe spat. “You don’t know shit about him!”

You blinked, and you could feel your eyes burning because Rafe was so mad, and you didn’t understand why. Topper’s friend had been nice to you all night, looking after you and getting you drinks and keeping you company. You had the hardest time believing Rafe’s words, and you shook your head.

“He was being nice,” you argued, but Rafe’s anger and harsh words had you doubting that, now.

“…because he wanted to fuck you, you-.”

He cut himself off, heavily exhaling, and he glanced away. You watched him as his eyes fell closed, a bitter chuckle escaping as he shook his head.

“Do you have any idea how crazy you drive me?”

You almost didn’t hear him, and when he turned his cold gaze back to you, you swallowed.

“Are you really that stupid?” he quietly wondered, tapping his temples. “Huh?”

You pressed your lips together, the sound of your heartbeat loud in your ears.

“I’m stretching myself thin here just to make sure all those guys you think are your friends don’t have you lying down in their backseat somewhere…”

“Rafe.”

“…but like the dumb broad that you are, you think they’re being nice and friendly and that they actually care about you outside of what’s under your tiny little dress!”

You looked away.

“Every day I find myself wondering how the fuck did you even graduate? How did you even make it this far on your own?”

You struggled to swallow, your gaze finding the floor.

His words had you shifting on your feet, heart sinking at the familiarity of them. You were never the smartest, you knew that. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried in school, tried to understand things that came so naturally to other people. You remembered your tutors getting so fed up and frustrated, leaning against the hall and listening as they told your mom they didn’t see how you’d ever pass. You remembered enlisting classmates for help before they too gave up and just took pity on you by doing your work for you.

“Hey, it’s okay,” they would tell you with soft smiles. “You really tried, and that’s what really matters.”

You looked up when Rafe huffed again, tears in your eyes. You had no idea that Rafe thought those things too, and you reached up to wipe your eyes.

“I mean, you’re always parading around in this crap that barely covers your ass,” he sneered, gesturing to your dress. “Always smiling and giggling at everyone.”

You sniffed.

“None of those guys are ever laughing with you, they’re laughing at you.”

“Why are you saying this to me?” you whispered.

“…because someone needs to,” he threw back. “…because you’re too fucking dumb to look out for yourself.”

Rafe neared you, reaching out and clutching your dress, yanking you closer.

“Do you know what that guy would’ve done? Hmm?”

You shuddered when his other hand came up to clasp the back of your neck.

“He would’ve gotten you in his backseat, probably wouldn’t have even waited to get you home…”

“Stop,” you pleaded.

“He wouldn’t have listened to a single word you said, too busy trying to get your legs open and his pants off.”

His hold tightened, and you winced, a few tears skipping down your face as he walked forward. He forced you to stumble back.

“He would’ve fucked you even more stupid and-.”

He cut himself off as you hit his chest, lips trembling and desperately trying to keep yourself from crying. You couldn’t stop, and Rafe huffed, rubbing his hands over his head as he let you go. Rafe’s chest was heaving, and when his eyes met yours again, you couldn’t hold his gaze for long.

“You’re so pitiful, you know that?” he murmured, coming near you again. “Every time you open that mouth to say something stupid, I just want to shove my cock in it.”

Your eyes widened at his words, stumbling back when he gripped your roots, scalp stinging.

“…but that’s all you’ll be good for, huh,” he mused, his other hand circling your chin. “To be split open and filled up.”

You reached up, grabbing his wrist, but Rafe didn’t care, leaning in and nipping at your cheek.

“…and if it’s going to be someone, it might as well be me, right?” he breathed, brushing his lips over your trembling ones. “Those other assholes on this island don’t look out for you like I do.”

Rafe wasn’t giving you time to think, and before you could stop him, his mouth covered yours. Rafe deeply inhaled, tongue tasting the inside of your mouth, hand roaming over you, completely ignoring your own as you tried to stop him. He roughly pulled at your dress, and you heard the fabric rip, a noise of protest leaving you.

You thought that Rafe didn’t like you.

It was what Sarah said, and Rafe himself had called you dumb and stupid and every other thing you’d tried to pretend you weren’t. You didn’t always pick up on things, but would Topper’s friend really have hurt you? Rafe was smarter than you, so he would know, right? He’d seemed so sure of it, but as his hands squeezed your frame, you recalled his words.

Wasn’t Rafe doing the same thing?

You gasped when his teeth sank into your neck, and all your breath left you when your back met the floor. You mumbled his name, but Rafe didn’t seem to hear you, yanking your panties down your legs, his own pants partially undone. When his fingers found a home between your legs, you whimpered, jerking at the feel of them sinking into you. He groaned at the feel, and your nails pressed into his arm.

You felt like your brain was short-circuiting, eyes rolling as he thrust them into you, massaging your walls. Rafe hovered over you, his nose brushing yours, and your hands reached out to scrape at the carpet. Your chest arched when Rafe curved them, and he kissed you again, a deep moan leaving him as you clenched around him.

“Rafe, stop-.”

Your words were abruptly cut off when he pressed on your stomach, holding you down, and you trembled, body buzzing. When he pulled them out of you, you felt disappointment, no time to linger on it as the head of him pressed to you. He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, and your stomach arched against his firm hand. Your mouth fell open at the stretch, toes curling, and Rafe made a shushing sound.

“You can take it,” he murmured. “Open your legs.”

He rested in between them on his knees, and his free hand was on your thigh, parting them further. A high pitched sigh left you as he filled you to the hilt, fitting snuggly and holding himself inside of you. The turn the night had taken made your head spin, along with the alcohol, and you threw your head back when Rafe’s hand traveled from your stomach, thumb pressing against you.

“You’re so fucking wet,” you heard him groan. “Dripping around me.”

He started to move, pulling out before swiftly pushing his cock back into you, making you squeeze your eyes shut.

“This is all you needed, huh? Someone to fuck your dumb little brains out.”

Your lashes fluttered, and Rafe was blurry through your tears, but as you blinked, he cleared up. He leaned in to press kisses to your face, hips snapping against yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin loud in the living room. You couldn’t focus on much besides Rafe’s cock in you, hands tight on you and holding you in place so he could fuck you like he wanted.

“You know how many times I wanted to bend you over? Wanted to stuff you full of my cock just so you’d shut up?”

You whimpered, hands grasping at his back and arms as he leaned over. His forehead was pressed to yours, one of your knees completely pushed back as he drove himself into you. He was hitting something in you that had your breath hitching with every thrust, and the earlier events of the night were in the very back of your mind.

When he sat up, pushing both of your knees towards your chest, you cried out. You could see his eyes focused on where he disappeared into you, sliding into you and watching the way you dripped around him. You could feel yourself squeezing him, greedily trying to suck him back in, and Rafe chuckled.

“Nothing to say? Too busy taking my cock?”

When you didn’t say anything, he laughed again.

“Hmm?”

You could only bite your lip, chest heaving, and when you looked up, Rafe’s gaze was on your breasts.

“Touch yourself,” he told you, satisfied when you did. “Make them hard for me.”

You were a moaning mess, a fire in your core as Rafe rutted into you. You could hear it, hear the wet sound of you squeezing him and every dip of Rafe’s cock. You softly moaned his name, and Rafe asked you to do it again. Feeling drunk in more ways than one, you did, gasping when he spread your legs again. His arms hooked under your knees, his chest brushing yours, now, and Rafe pressed his face into the crook of your neck.

“Any of those assholes even look at you for more than two seconds, and I’m showing them who you belong to,” he promised.

You could feel your stomach tightening, walls fluttering around him, and you could only lay down and take Rafe’s unrelenting cock.

“This pussy is mine, now,” he breathed. “No more leaving the house like you do without me.”

“Rafe,” you gasped, breath hitching. “I’m going to…”

You trailed off, losing your breath, and Rafe kissed the corner of your mouth.

“You’re gonna come? Yeah?”

You nodded, lips parted.

“So, I should probably keep going, huh?”

“Uh huh.”

“What if I just stopped?”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“No,” you desperately argued. “Please-.”

“You wanna come?”

“Yes…please,” you moaned.

You could feel his eyes on your face as he lifted his head.

“Look at you,” he whispered. “So hungry for my cock. Can’t even keep your eyes open.”

You didn’t have the mind to argue with him, squeezing him and loving the way he stretched you out.

“This is right where you belong. Spread open and desperate for me,” he hummed, pressing open mouthed kisses to your neck. “My dumb baby girl, only good for milking me dry.”

He continued when all you could do was whimper.

“Isn’t that right?”

At your silence, Rafe stopped, only the tip of him remaining. You tried to lift your hips, fucking yourself onto him, but from this position, with his arms keeping your knees bent back, you couldn’t. You whined, tears kissing your eyes as your chest heaved against his. You frantically nodded, another whiny moan escaping.

“Yes,” you breathlessly gave in. “Yes, yes.”

Rafe snapped his hips against yours again, smoothly thrusting into you, and you came around him with a cry. You couldn’t keep quiet, gasping and moaning as Rafe fucked you through your high. He held you in place, body trembling underneath him, and Rafe groaned when he started coming too, spilling into you. A light sheen of sweat coated both your frames, and you shuddered when he pulled out of you.

You felt completely worn out as he crawled over you, and his hand circled your chin, lifting it. The head of him pushed past your lips, and he groaned when he softly told you to clean him up. His eyes met yours as you looked up at him, lips wrapped around him as he reached down to brush the dampness from your cheek.

“Do a good job, and I might clean you up too.”

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x kook!reader #dark!rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe cameron #dark rafe cameron #obx #obx fic #obx imagine #Outer Banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine

4K notes · View notes

seijorhi · 10 months ago

Text

Etched in Red: Vermillion (Part One)

Event Masterlist

Okkotsu Yuuta x female reader

Part Two

w.c 1.4k

tw: yandere themes, kidnapping, implied dub/non-con, non-explicit gore

There’s nothing… wrong with being weak.

It isn’t a moral failing or anything to be ashamed of, it just is. For most people – normal people – that’s okay. They accept it, adjust their lives accordingly and move on.

The thing is, most people don’t actually need to be strong, not in the physical sense.

Most people aren’t jujutsu sorcerers.

Yuuta frowns, watching you laugh as Inumaki offers a hand to haul you up to your feet, brushing the dirt and grass of your skirt once you’re upright. Another sparring session that ends the exact same way all of them do; you, flat on your ass, wholly at the mercy of whichever of his friends is standing over you.

Problem is, they’re going easy on you; Maki leaving her left side wide open, Panda practically telegraphing his hits. Lately, he’s noticed it with Yuji and the other second years, too. It’s like an unwritten rule that they never go too hard, never push you too far. Trying to help you without hurting you in the process.

Because the simple, painful truth is, you aren’t strong enough to take it.

And believe it or not, he does get it… sort of. When Gojo dragged him into this he was petrified. Useless. He got thrown in the deep end, first first with Maki and then with Inumaki, and he had to figure it out fast, but… he also had Rika.

He also had his cursed technique.

Three years in, with graduation looming, you’re a step above a window. Still a grade four, although unlike with Maki it’s not some political, sexist bullshit keeping you there.

For right now, that’s okay. They’re your friends, none of them think any worse of you for it. They cover you on the missions you’re sent out on, and that’s not gonna change any time soon, but–

“Everything okay, Yuuta?”

He exhales a shuddering breath then straightens and turns your way with a smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” he asks, idly toeing at a rock by his feet. Maybe you won’t notice the flush colouring his cheeks. “Looked like you hit the ground pretty hard back there.”

You laugh, waving it off like it’s no big deal, and to be fair it isn’t – you go through this multiple times a week, but that doesn’t mean it rankles him any less when you say, “Nothing I can’t handle. Toge was taking it easy on me.”

You don’t know the half of it.

“C’mon,” you tell him. “Panda says you’re up.”

—

Forty minutes later, breathless, aching and bruised all over, Yuuta shuffles with you and the others back to the dormitories to shower before eating when a familiar head of white hair pops into view.

“Yuuu-taa,” Gojo greets in a sing-song voice, altogether too happy for the group of exhausted, hungry students glaring back at him. “A word?”

Not remotely a request, considering he’s got an arm looped over Yuuta’s shoulders, steering him away from the rest of the group before he can get so much as a word out.

Leading him into an empty classroom well away from the dormitories, Gojo props himself up against one of the desks, leaving Yuuta to stand awkwardly in front of him, trying his best not to feel like a misbehaving child about to be lectured.

When he speaks, there’s no trace of levity left to soften the blow. “What happened?”

Gojo isn’t talking about the training session outside.

Yuuta swallows, stiffening. “It doesn’t matter, does it? You read the report. As long as she’s with me, Rika and I–”

“So you expect the higher ups to send you along on every mission she’s assigned?”

His cheeks flush again, this time with indignation. “They can’t send her alone! She’s not– she… ” Isn’t strong enough.

At his floundering, Gojo lets out a heavy, over-dramatic sigh, as if the weight of the world rests on his shoulders alone. “Yuuta, you’re a special grade. Do you really think they’ll let you play babysitter just because you have a crush?”

His heart squeezes, a thick lump lodging itself in his throat. He doesn’t deny it, there’s no point. Blindfolded or not, Gojo sees everything.

Not that his Sensei has room to talk about crushes.

“I don’t care, I’ll go anyway! I’m not letting her get hurt.”

“Special grade or not, you won’t be able to stop it,” Gojo tells him, a strange sort of smile teasing at his lips. “They’ll smell her coming a mile away, that inexperience, overconfidence. Such a weak, tasty little sorcerer. Easy pickings. She’ll draw them in like flies to honey, one after another, until there’s too many to fight all at once – that’s what happened last time, didn’t it? You lost focus.”

Yuuta stills entirely.

Gojo tugs at the bandages over his eyes, revealing one brilliant, blue iris. “She dies. That’s the only way this goes. You understand that, don’t you?”

—

It kills Yuuta that Gojo turns out to be right.

The body lying on the cold, metal table can barely be called that. Half a torso and a leg. That’s all he got back after getting rid of the curse.

“Okkotsu,” Ieiri’s calm voice breaks through his reverie, and he glances up to find her tired eyes boring into him from across the room. If he didn’t know better, he’d almost think she looked concerned.

“‘m fine,” he mumbles, letting his head tilt back to fall against the cool tiles. “I’m not the one who died.”

Ieiri opens her mouth, only to close it a moment later. “Of course.”

And so it goes. Inumaki, Panda and Maki hover, quiet and subdued. No one knows what to say, but none of them are surprised, he can tell that much through the thick, strained silence.

Death is pretty much a constant for them. Jujutsu sorcerers don’t tend to lead long, happy lives, but this isn’t just losing a classmate seven days out from graduation. A pang squeezes at his chest and he doesn’t bother holding back a heavy exhale.

“I’m tired. I’ll… catch you guys later, I guess.”

Yuuta doesn’t wait for an acknowledgement, turning on his heel and leaving them there outside the gym, staring uselessly after him.

But he doesn’t head back to his room. There’s nothing for him there.

No, Yuuta walks for a long, long while. Back to civilisation, to the city teeming with people and curses, each step more surefooted, eager than the last.

By the time he reaches the apartment, he’s pounding the pavement, and takes the stairs two at a time. His hand shakes as he slots the key into the first lock and twists, then the second, his heart’s halfway to his throat when he pushes it open, heading straight for the bedroom–

The knot in his chest loosens, a relieved sigh escaping him at the sight of you, spread out in his sheets in nothing but your underwear, fast asleep. Safe, where he left you.

It takes him no time at all to toe out of his sneakers, shed his jacket and climb up onto the bed next to you, mindful not to jostle you too much, not to disturb the thick metal links coiled loosely at the bottom of the mattress. Your eyes are still puffy, cheeks wet with the sheen of tears when his fingertips glide over them, intent on smoothing your hair back from your face.

Poor thing, you must’ve tired yourself out.

Yuuta has every intention of letting you sleep for a little while longer yet – he’d meant what he’d said to Maki and the others, there’s a bone tired weariness that’s been clinging to him since he dragged himself back to campus that morning, and it’s only now, here, lying next to you that he feels it start to leach away, like poison syphoned off.

A small, soft smile tugs at his lips.

Perfect, beautiful girl.

Gojo was right. You had to die. There aren’t enough sorcerers to deal with the increased curses plaguing the city. Weak or not, they would’ve kept sending you out, and he wouldn’t always be able to guarantee that he’d be there to protect you.

You had to die so they’d leave you alone. So that he could keep you safe.

Nestling closer, he thumbs at the curve of your cheekbone again and brushes a kiss against your lips, doing his best to ignore the hot pulse of want that burns through his blood, coiling tightly in his guts.

There’ll be plenty of time for that later. For now he just wants to lie here with you, safe and tucked away. Together.

It’s better this way. You’ll see.

#yandere jjk #yandere okkotsu yuuta #yandere okkotsu yuuta x reader #yandere yuuta x reader #yandere yuuta #yandere jjk x reader #tw: dubcon #etched in red

587 notes · View notes

redbullgirly · 10 months ago

Note

hi hi can i request a max verstappen x footballer smau but she plays for real madrid femenino and we know max is an fcb supporter (also for the sake of the smau, real madrid femenino can be just as good as barcelona femeni) and everyone going crazy when she just takes him to an award ceremony as her plus-one. no soft launch no hard launch and everyone including the grid and christian horner and madristas and everyone is shocked

MADRIDISTAS [MV1/33]

Max Verstappen x footballer!RealMadridFemenino!reader

Masterlist

Summary: Y/N is one of the biggest rising stars in women's football, playing for Real Madrid Femenino. When she's nominated by Women's Football Awards for the Player of the Year, the last thing anybody would expect is her plus one to the ceremony being Formula One driver, Max Verstappen. Not only is he the World Champion himself, but most importantly, Max is a known FC Barcelona fan. Talk about making friends with the enemy...

Warnings: I have very limited knowledge of football, so everything in this story is based on my quick research. If you're a fan, please don't come for me! Though any advice would be much appreciated, because I have more football requests in my inbox XD.

Author's Note: Hi Anon, thanks for the request! I have to say it was quite challenging for me at the start, because I don't know many things about football, but at the end it turned out fun and good. Hope you like what I did with this social media au! :)

yourusername posted on instagram

liked by fifawomensworldcup, alexiaputellas, maxverstappen1 and 239,022 others

tagged: realmadridfem

yourusername And it's a wrap!🥈⚽️ Thank you to the whole team for another amazing year, we fought hard and we will continue to fight for the Champions League title next year as 2023/24 runners-up. Hala Madrid!✨🇪🇸

view all 809 comments

user1 Love the way you play!

realmadridfem Hala Madrid!💪🏆

liked by the author

yourusername 💯

user2 💥💥💥

user3 Vamosssss

user4 GO GIRLLL🤩🤩🤩🤩

user5 you really deserved to win the finale, the referee was totally biased agains you!!!

user6 Yeah, even as a FC Barcelona fan I didn't think it was fair🙈

martagarcialopez19 amazing Y/N! 🫶

yourusername Thank youuu!💖

user7 wait does y/n know some people from motosport???

user8 No I think it's just girls supporting girls in sports dominated by men tbh ☺️

liked by the author and martagarcialopez19

user7 oh yeah that makes sense

user9 Buen trabajo que equipo tan bueno con todas y en lo personal muy guapa [Good job, what a great team with everyone and personally very pretty.]

marisabel_rguez The dream team 🙌

liked by the author

yourusername Yessss

user10 HALA MADRID 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

user11 literally the prettiest soccer player I ever saw😻

user12 you mean FOOTBALL?!😂🧐

user11 sry i'm american so i'm used to saying soccer

user12 well that's WRONG girly😂

user13 Princess

messages between Y/N and Max

yourusername posted on instagram

liked by maxverstappen1, realmadridfem, charlottesiine and 189,436 others

yourusername Short stop back home in Monaco before flying to London for Women's Football Awards and my nomination for Player of the Year 🤞🌷

view all 438 comments

user1 so pretty

maitetxuu_10 The nails Y/N 🤩

liked by the author

yourusername Not better than yours though 😚

user2 i don't watch football but maybe i should start bc of you

user3 Wow you're such a cutie 😍❤️

charlottesiine great work out together!

yourusername Agreed! We should definetly hit the gym together more often 😂

user4 omg wait how do they know each other?? didn't expect y/n y/l/n to be friends with ex-wags??

user5 Idk but they both live in Monaco so it's easy to know basically everyone who's your age there xdd

yourusername True user5, they don't tell you how small the country actually is 😭

user6 SHE IS MY ROLE MODEL EVERYBODY

user7 👏👏👏👏🔥🔥

lucybrozne Seems like the Monaco sun suits you 😁☀️

liked by the author

yourusername Oh thanks Lucy! 🫶

lucybrozne 🫶

user8 i love that despite fcb beating madrid they're still friends outside of the field🥺

user9 WOW you should be a model

user10 So sad your talents aren’t being fully appreciated in Madrid.

user11 oh c'mmon she probably wouldn't play for them if she felt unappreciated 🙄

user12 but tbh I think she should be the captain.... like she's literally the best player of them all BY FAR

user13 Nah I don't like her. Hope she'll never be a captain🤮

user12 then go away? lol

user13 damnn the 3rd picture did some unholy things to me 😩

user14 right?! I don't think I'm straight anymore🫣

user15 I have no idea who she is but let me tell you she's gorgeous

user16 ✨✨✨👑🎀🌹

twitter

messages between Max and Christian Horner & Max and Carlos Sainz

yourusername posted on instagram

liked by gerihalliwellhorner, maxverstappen1, alexmorgan13 and 621,983 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

yourusername Turning him into Madridista duh.

viewl all 3,084 comments

maxverstappen1 Y/N I love you... but that's never happening ❤️

yourusername Liar! You complained for a week straight about how that referee in the finals wasn't fair and we should have won agains Barcelona! 😘

carlossainz55 hahaaa mate she got you😂

maxverstappen1 😒

user1 OMGGG we converted him on our side!!!

user2 A sad day to be a FC Barcelona supporter and F1 fan😓

user3 A happy day for Madridistas!😍

user4 damn I may have to start watching football

martagarcialopez19 you're glowing! also thanks god now I don't have to keep the secret anymore xd

yourusername Love ya! 🫶

user5 The IT WAG

user6 can we take a moment to appreciate how cute maxie looks here?🥹

realmadridfem You go girl! Convert new fans!🤩💪

liked by the author

user7 I'm still shocked by this whole thing 😹

user8 you're not the only one lol

user9 the second picture????

user10 Max is so lucky man🥵

marisabel_rquez ¡La pareja poderosa!😍 [The power couple!😍]

liked by the author

user11 this post murdered me and dragged me all over slaycity with how much it served 🤭

user12 exactly! her and max are so hot and pretty

user13 🤍😍💯🥳 Hala Madrid!!!

maxverstappen1 posted on instagram

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, f1, realmadridfem and 1,109,332 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1 My girl ❤️⚽️

comments on this post have been disabled

THE END

Author's Note: Thank you for reading the whole thing! I'll appreciate likes, reblogs, follows and comments, or any other way of support. Let me know what you think about this pairing and please tell me if there are any football errors, because I have another request about footballer!reader waiting for me. Have a great day! :)

433 notes · View notes

inkdrinkerworld · 4 months ago

Text

Inn Love Chapter 3

one two

cw: money issue talks, feelings of failure, james and reader being in love and idiots, a little angst (?) friends to lovers

wc: 2.6

“It’s not looking good,” you mutter to Mary, head in your hands as you go over the accounts one more time.

“It’s the off season, we’ll find something else to do.”

She’s too kind, too understanding. You wish she’d blow up at you and quit for not being able to pay her on time.

You sigh, long and hard. You have to figure it out. The Secret Garden is your baby, and even though this is your second year owning it, you’ve still not figured out how to supplement the off season so you make a profit.

You don’t know if you’ll ever be able to.

“We might have to. How do you feel about starting up line dancing lessons for a little bit? Just until I figure it out?”

Mary grins, nodding her head. “I’ve missed it some. Won’t exactly be hard to get back into.”

Mary’s the best worker you have. The only one you have really, but she’s still the best.

You close up your books, and double check that all the rooms have been checked out of and begin locking up.

James is waiting for you on your front steps, hat tipped low as he leans against one of the beams.

“Hey Jamie, didn’t know you were stopping by.”

You try for chipper, a smile in your voice as you hold your tote bag on your shoulder.

“Wanted to see if you wanted to get lunch with me.”

You pause, reaching right in front of him. It’s instant, the way a frown fights for the space of your smile. It’s also instant the way James notices.

“What’s wrong?” He takes your bag from you, leading you to his truck.

“Nothing. Where are we getting lunch?”

James frowns a little bit, but doesn’t press. “Had Chinese dropped off to the house, got all your favourites.”

You grin, James does this a lot and it makes your stomach flip every time.

“Meet you there?”

James frowns again, then shrugs. “Yeah, darling.”

You double back to your own truck, James setting your bag in the bench seat.

You watch James pull out first and take a moment to collect all your worry and all your anxiety and stuff it deep in your chest, burying it with a bit of hay before sighing.

You can’t let James see you’re worried or anxious, he’ll sniff the information out of you and if you tell James then you’d have failed.

The first year it was understandable, the second year; you’re not sure you could tell the person who helped you build the inn from the ground up that you’ve been having months of money troubles.

You pull up behind James, sliding out of your car and racing him to the front door.

“You still cheat.” he says with a smile, you shrug while pushing open the door. Inside James’ house, you’d think it was hot, all the southern heat trapped in the walls, but it’s always cool.

He’d explained it to you once, the stone and wood kept it cool, but also he had put in a central air con to maintain the chill.

“I got shorter legs than you James, it’d never be fair.”

James shakes his head, following you to his dining table where all the boxes are already laid out.

“How much noodles am I allowed?” James rolls his eyes. You always eat most of it and he always gets you your own box because why deprive you of your favourite thing?

James doesn’t think there’s actually anything he could deprive you of.

“Does lack of sleep mess with your memory?”

You grin when he passes you an entire box, and then the rest of what you usually like.

As you eat, the talking kind of subsides, which is weird by yours and James’ standards.

“Are you sure nothing’s wrong?” He asks when you migrate to the living room, laying out long on his sofa while he sits with your feet in his lap.

“What do you mean, Jamie?” You try hard not to stiffen your body as you respond.

He sighs, hands squeezing the arches of your feet. “I dunno, something feels wrong. Like you feel down.”

God you could cry right now. James has always been in tune to you like this, as you are with him, but it sometimes gets to be too much because lying to your best friend hurts. Especially when he can tell something is off.

“Just tired I guess.” you shrug one of your shoulders. James hums but doesn’t say anything and you feel guilt like a hot poker in your stomach.

You wiggle your toes in his lap and his hands fall back to massaging them.

“Wanna watch ‘How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days’?”

James never has to ask twice.

You don’t mean to, but you and James fall asleep right there on his sofa. Some time during the night you’ve shifted, he’s laying under you and your head is on part of his chest with your legs tangled up.

The only reason you wake up is because James’ alarm is blaring and you’ve got the worst crick in your neck.

“Make it stop,” you grumble, hiding your face in his chest as he stretches. It’s comfortable even for friends, the way James holds onto your waist as he leans over you to grab his phone.

“Shit, s’nearly four. You gotta go darling.”

You’d lasted nearly a whole three minutes without thinking about the fact that The Secret Garden wasn’t doing well.

Almost awkwardly, which is strange for you and James, you sit up. As you stretch all your joints crack and you sigh where James winces. He’s always hated how you can just crack your bones like that- he worries you’ll break them one day.

“Nah I got the day off.”

James’ eyebrows shoot up. “So the TSG is closed today?”

You wish your friend wouldn’t ask so many questions. Lying to him is hard work.

“Mary’s running the morning shift today.” James looks a little sceptical but drops it, making his way to the stairs.

“M’gonna get ready. You staying on the ranch then?”

You nod, what else is there for you to do? Plus if you use your ‘day off’ to be anywhere but the ranch, say going job hunting or to the bank, your quiet little town will somehow have your going-ons back to James in no time.

“Heat up breakfast and I’ll make us coffee.” James is back down in ten minutes, showered and changed into his wranglers, a thin white t-shirt and his work boots.

You’re sure you’ve got yours around here somewhere.

James and you work like a well greased machine, making breakfast and coffee and doing the dishes all in one go.

He tilts his head to the screen door in the kitchen that leads to his side porch.

“Wanna watch the sunrise with me and then go round do some ranch chores?”

“Still got my boots in the coat closet?” you ask and James rolls his eyes.

“When has anything of yours left this house? You’re everywhere in here.” His gaze is too intense for you to laugh it off. It also makes you feel like you’ve caged race horses in your stomach and they’re butting their fences.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, Jamie.” is all you can manage before going in search of your boots.

James doesn’t think it’s a bad thing at all. Honestly, he wishes there were more of you in his house; he’s just not sure if saying that to you will cost him everything.

Shoving your feet into the boots you sigh, then take a peek out at the sky and shiver. “I’m taking a coat.”

“Take anything you want.”

This is why you can’t tell James about your money troubles. He’s going to give you anything to turn it around, but you’re not sure if anything he can give will. You also can’t use him anymore than you already do.

“Race you to the stables!” James takes off before you can even put down your empty mug.

“You’re such a cheater!” You whine as you race behind him, his laugh floating back to you as you reach the stable doors.

“Takes one to know one,” he says playfully, causing you to roll your eyes.

James holds the door open for you and as soon as you get in you head for Snowglobe.

“My baby,” you coo, already kissing the side of his face while James lets his own horse, Landslide, out.

“You’d swear he wasn’t nearly twenty three.”

“Don’t remind me Jamie.” you grab a brush and go through the usual maintenance just as James does with his horse.

“We’re riding up to the fences to check on the horses, then we’re feeding them.” James talks about his day like it’s easy, but you remember the hard work that goes into ranching. You’ve got your work cut out for you, and you’re not even doing the hard stuff like moving hay or any of that.

“Lead the way, Cowboy.”

After a couple hours, you go back to the big house and take a shower, well and truly exhausted. James wouldn’t let you haul hay, so you’d been feeding the animals, cleaning the stables and doing a bit of general cleaning up around the ranch while he and his farmhands mended parts of the fence, herded the cows and hauled the dried heaps of hay.

By the time James comes in, you’re halfway through preparing dinner- beef stew.

“I would’ve cooked after my shower, darling.” James says as he hangs up his hat and boots.

“Yeah, but now by the time you come back down, we can eat together.”

James frowns again, you’ve never been away from TSG for this long since it’s been opened and it’s worrying him that you won’t talk to him about it.

If he’s honest, you haven’t gushed about the inn since you left it yesterday- which is very unlike you. That place is your pride and joy and everyone knows it. Especially James.

He holds his tongue on his worry and nods.

“I’ll be back in ten.”

Through dinner, you’re on your phone, checking your accounts, trying to see where you can make more money or if you’ll have to do the one thing you don’t want to.

After your sixth sigh in ten minutes, James sets his cutlery down and reaches a hand for you.

“Darling, I know you said it’s nothing, but it’s clearly not. Can you tell me what’s wrong, please?”

Before you can answer, Sirius bursts through James’ house.

“Did you see TSG’s been closed all day? Wonder if everything’s okay.”

You freeze in your seat when James turns to you with wide eyes and a slack jaw.

Sirius coughs to dispel his embarrassment. “Sorry doll face. But why are you closed? Is everything alright?”

You can’t even be upset with Sirius because for all of his faults, he’s always concerned about you. He feels very much like an older brother in that way, even when he’s giving you shit.

You rest your head on the table and sigh.

“Don’t be upset Jamie,” you start, slow and more than a little nervous. You don’t know how you’ll feel if James is angry with you. You don’t want to feel like a failure to him. You don’t want to fail yourself even more.

“I think I’m gonna have to close the inn.”

Sirius gasps, James frowns. “Forever or for a while?”

You lift your head, “For a while. I’m not sure how long. I’ve got to go over the account but we’re not making a profit right now.”

“Darling,” he says at the same time Sirius swears.

Tears spring in your eyes. “I know, it hasn’t been making profit or any sort of money for a couple months but I thought it would pick up again, but I guess late summer is not our season.”

James stands quickly when your first tear falls and Sirius ruffles your head.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed about, it happens. I can help you work through it.” You shake your head at James’ proposal.

“You helped me start it up and I can’t even keep it running through the entire year. I can’t expect you to help me every year that I have a slow period.”

Sirius tuts, “You could always sell your bakes in the off time, dollface.”

James wipes your tears away, “I can still help. I don’t mind helping out.”

You shake your head. Sirius seems to get it before James does, and what it is you’re trying to say.

“No Jamie, I think maybe working on the ranch or doing a little baking on the side would be good. Right doll?”

You nod, “I don’t wanna keep using you Jamie.”

James tuts, tilting your chin up. Sirius takes his cue and goes into the kitchen, looking through James’ pantry.

“You don’t use me. You’ve never used me.” It’s hard to argue with James when he speaks with such conviction but you know you have.

“But I did. When I was opening up TSG, it was you helping me.”

James smiles then, “Yeah I helped, darling. It was a mutual thing. We’re friends, of course I helped you. And I can help again, but if you want to do this part on your own, I’d get it.”

James wipes your tears, gentle and sweet as ever. “I need to go do a final closing for the season and set some things in place, but can I stay here in the meantime?” You force the words out, soft and whispered against the space between you and James.

“You can stay here as long as you like,”

“Thanks Jamie.”

He shrugs, dimple poking out in his cheek as he smiles at you. “You’re always welcome darling, c’mon I’ll drive you to TSG and help with lock up.”

As it turns out, telling James you’d been struggling wasn’t that bad. It was hard and you’d felt like a failure for a little bit, but he talked good sense into you and now you’re staying with him till the start of autumn.

“I can work the ranch, Jamie.” You proposed on your second night on his sofa.

“You cannot work the entire ranch.” James wasn’t even being funny about it either. You really can’t. You get cut up easily and you blister worse than he does.

“Okay, I can work the stables.”

James rolls his eyes good naturedly, tossing a bit of popcorn at you. You’d both been watching a new horror that James had seen advertising. Watching is a generous word because you both talk through all the dull parts and you squeeze his fingers in anxiety during the freaky parts.

“As opposed to?”

You giggle, “Hey, I can work the garden or help milk the cows.”

James chuckles then, his dimple on display making you want to poke your finger in it. “Same cows you’re afraid of? You can work the stables darling, you know your way around it.”

You squeal, leaning up and closer to James to kiss his cheek. You love doing it because James goes red hot and can’t stop his flush. Even as kids he’d go beet red the minute you gave him a kiss to his cheek.

“You’re the best James. The best ever.”

He grins, “I’m glad you finally noticed.” The pillow behind your head whacks him in the face as you groan.

“That was yuck, don’t ever say that again.” James laughs through your disgust, slotting your pillow behind your back again and holding your feet in his lap as the horror builds.

#cowboy!james #cowboy!james potter #jamespotter #james potter #james potter one shot #james potter oneshot #james potter imagine #james potter drabble #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #james potter blurb #james potter fluff #james potter angst #james potter x reader #james potter x black reader #james potter x you #james potter fic #james potter x yn #james potter x y/n

222 notes · View notes

hwanghyunjinenthusiast · 2 years ago

Text

✨️1K Followers Celebration Day 7: Stray Kids bias wrecker - Jisung✨️

The Heat

AN: We have reached the end of my milestone celebration! Thank you to all of you, new and old, for your support. You have no idea how much it all means to me <3 Time to end this celebration off with my other other arch nemesis lol.

Synopsis: When your roommate brings home a bag of strange cookies, you two don't think much of it. Assuming whoever sold them to him was lying about them containing an aphrodisiac. You both quickly come to realise that you were very, very incorrect.

Heads up: Han Jisung x Fem! Reader, Roommates AU, dub-con elements (because Reader and Jisung are under the influence of an aphrodisiac, but they do genuinely want each other), mentions of masturbation, dirty talk, nipple play (f. receiving), unprotected piv sex, Reader cries a little, Jisung cums pretty quickly, mentions of multiple orgasms, unrealistic sex (Jisung cums more than once and remains hard), hypersensitivity, some usage of a petname for Reader and a barely there praise kink (f. receiving).

Word count: 3658

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

"You'll never guess what I found!" Your roommate yells, all but slamming the front door open in his excitement.

"Hello to you too, Jisung," you respond dryly but, your curiosity is piqued. Angling yourself to get a better view of the brown paper bag in his grasp from your position on the couch.

"Sorry, hi. I'm just really hyped," he responds sheepishly, plopping down beside you, "but look!"

You're not sure what you were expecting, but a bag filled with cookies certainly wasn't it. "Uh, they look good?" You offer, not really understanding what makes these cookies in particular so special. The little pink hearts on them are very cute, you'll give them that much.

"No, no listen. These aren't just any old cookies. Minho and I stumbled across this kind of weird looking bakery, and the lady who runs it said these cookies are mixed with some really potent aphrodisiacs,"

Yeah, this is not how you anticipated your Saturday to unfold at all.

"So... you bought them from an apparently really shady bakery and just trusted what that lady said?"

Your words take a few seconds to register in his mind. Big eyes blinking at you owlishly. If he hadn't just admitted to something so stupid, you'd reach over to squish his cheeks because of how endearing he looks right now.

"Well, when you put it like that..."

It takes a great deal of effort on your part not to drag your hand down your face.

"Minho should really stop enabling all of your impulsive purchases and ideas,"

"To be fair, he was the one who dragged me into the bakery. I just happened to stumble across these," he says, motioning to the bag now staring at the two of you on your coffee table.

"My point still stands. Why did you buy so many anyway? Why not just get a few if you just wanted to test them out?"

"They were running a special," he mutters.

"I didn't realise you were this naive. I have some magic beans to sell you if you're interested," you tease, grinning as the tips of his ears redden.

"Ha ha ha. Very funny. They weren't that pricey anyway so, luckily I didn't spend much," he reaches for the bag, fishing out a cookie.

"Woah hey, what're you doing?"

"Eating the cookies I bought? Like you said, I'm sure they're a scam, so I might as well eat them since I spent money on them," he responds with a shrug. Your anxiety building watching him take his first bite.

"Oh, they're pretty good, actually. Want one?" He asks, turning his big brown eyes onto you. Now, how are you supposed to say no when he looks at you with those eyes?

"If these are poisoned or something, I swear I'm going to haunt you," you respond, and your roommate takes that as a green light.

"We'll both be ghosts then. I don't think ghosts can haunt each other," he says with a laugh, the brushes of his fingers against yours feeling like electricity as he hands you a cookie.

You choose to essentially shove the cookie in your mouth to avoid dealing with that particular can of worms. Jisung was right. They are delicious. Flavours of strawberry with faint hints of chocolate caressing your taste buds. Maybe they were worth turning into a ghost for if the worst comes to pass, you think.

"See? They're good, right?"

"Yeah, I can't even lie. That's one of the best cookies I've ever had. If we survive this, you should show this oddball bakery to me,"

"Oh," and you immediately regret admitting to him that you actually liked it, "how the tables have turned. What was that you were saying earlier about reckless purchases?"

Rolling your eyes, you stand up in order to get ready for bed. Jisung's smugness more than enough motivation to finally get your ass off the couch.

"Goodnight Jisung," you say, waving him off.

"Goodnight," you don't even need to turn around to see the smirk stretched across his face. You can hear it clear as day.

Everything feels like it's on fire when you wake up the following morning.

You're absolutely drenched in sweat and your throat is beyond dry. Perhaps the oddest realisation of all is that you're wet. As in, obscenely so. Your thighs are smeared in it and you're almost certain it's leaked all the way onto your bedsheets.

What the hell?

It takes you some very long minutes to blink your bleary eyes open. Your muddled mind working a mile a minute to try and make sense of all of this. Last night hadn't been that hot so, there should be no reason why you're this sweaty. Plus, from what you can remember at the very least, you hadn't touched yourself before turning in for the night. So why in the world are you this wet? And more than that, why does it hurt so much more than usual?

'What is going on?' Is that question that echoes through your skull as you join the world of the conscious. You're due for a shower and a change of sheets, you think. You feel pretty disgusting at the moment, and a shower might just be what you need to help calm you down. An ice cold one.

On perhaps the strangest morning you've experienced to date, you don't expect to bump into a shirtless Jisung with a towel wrapped around his slim waist.

You've seen your roommate without a shirt more times than you can count at this point. However, it's never made you feel like this before.

The throbbing gets worse. So, so much worse. Warmth flooding your face when you feel yourself gush onto the fresh pair of sleeping shorts you'd just changed into. Jisung is an attractive man. A very, very attractive man. You've had no qualms with admitting that in the most private parts of your mind and on nights when images of him between your thighs are the only thoughts that can push you off of the proverbial edge.

But it's never been like this.

"Morning," he says gruffly. God, that just made it worse. If you weren't too lost in your own spiral, you'd notice his blown out pupils and the glassy quality to his eyes. How they shamelessly rake over your body. How he has to adjust his hold on his towel so you don't notice how hard he is. How hard he's been for what feels like hours now.

"Morning," you squeak back in response once your higher order functions return to you. Practically slamming the bathroom door in his face and, sagging against it once you're alone.

What is wrong with you?

Taking a shower was minimally successful. At least you're no longer drenched in various body fluids, but you still feel as though there's molten lava coursing through your veins. Everything is just so hot.

Touching yourself while you were in there didn't help either. If anything, it only added fuel to the inferno that seems hell bent on swallowing you whole from the inside out. Maybe you're just in desperate need of a good fuck. It has been longer than you care to admit since you last slept with someone. That Changbin guy was nice and ridiculously attractive. Perhaps you should give him a call.

You're disrupted from your thoughts when you hear a tentative knock at your bedroom door. Jisung. Oh no, you're not sure if you can handle looking at him right now, let alone being in the same room with him. Your mind has been replaying the encounter from this morning over and over again. Even that hadn't helped you cum in a satisfactory way. Which is insane because thinking about him works 11 times out of 10. You must really need to be fucked.

However, you're not a child. You're not going to avoid your roommate and your friend just because you're a little (okay, maybe it's more than a little) more sexually frustrated than usual. You're more mature than that.

"Come in," you say, cringing at the hoarseness in your voice.

To your relief (and mild disappointment), Jisung has a shirt on. Though, the way the tank top leaves his broad shoulders and biceps completely uncovered isn't helping the to soothe the squirming of your insides.

Jisung looks exactly how you feel: like a total wreck. His hair is in dissary and sticking to his damp forehead and his cheeks are flushed with an appealing dust of pink. You wonder if this is what he'd look like underneath you.

"What's up?" You croak, looking at your bedroom door as though it's the most interesting object you've ever seen. He may have a shirt on, but you're not sure you can handle looking at him for too long right now. For both of your sakes.

"Does it feel hot as fuck for you today too? I don't know what's been going on, but I already took two showers today, and I still feel like I might pass out from heat stroke," he says, making himself comfortable on your bed. While not out of the oddinary, having him so close to you is sending your barely coherent mind into panic. The desire to straddle his incredibly welcoming looking lap clawing at your insides.

"Yeah, it does feel a lot hotter than usual today. Maybe there's a ventilation issue or something in our place? Because I checked the weather and it the temperature for the day is on the cooler side, funnily enough," you respond, wiping some excess sweat off of your forehead. So, you're not the only one who seems to feel...off, weird even today. Whatever is happening appears to be affecting Jisung too.

"Really? That's so weird. I thought maybe there was a heat wave or something. I don't know how much more of this I can take," he sighs, throwing himself down. The bottom of his tank top exposing a sliver of his toned abdomen. Fuck.

Before your mind can assault you with fantasies of covering his abs in your wetness, that's when it hits you. Those damn cookies. They have to be the reason you're like this and that you suspect Jisung is experiencing something very similar.

"Jisung, I think I know why we're feeling so hot right now," you rush out, fingers absentmindedly toying with your blanket.

"Really? Well, I'm all ears," he responds, turning to give you all of his attention.

Fuck, how did you not realise it sooner? Jisung's eyes are almost black with how dilated his pupils are. Desire flashing like a neon sign on his face.

You really can't afford to soak through another pair of shorts right now. Focus.

"I think the cookies - I think the cookies weren't a scam," you mutter, hugging your legs to your chest. Your face is so warm that you're surprised the heat from it isn't radiating off of you.

He just keeps looking at you. You know the moment your words sink in because his face quickly shifts from a pretty, pink flush to an almost scarlet red. His mouth opening and closing as he grapples with what to even say to you.

"What? What makes you think that?" It's his turn to squeak and avoid your gaze. Seemingly fascinated with your ceiling.

"What else could it be? We both had them yesterday, and now we're sweating buckets and -" You cut yourself off. Jisung doesn't need to know you've been wet all day. You should probably keep that part to yourself.

However, the universe is determined to make you suffer, "And what?" He asks, meeting your eyes briefly before turning away. His teeth toying with his bottom lip.

"It-It's fine. Don't worry about it, but, um just trust me. I really think those cookies are the reason we're like this," You stutter out, studiously ignoring the lecherous thoughts creeping back into your mind.

Jisung doesn't say anything at first. Just laying there before sitting up once more, his hand ruffling his hair, "I wasn't kidding when I said I don't know much of this I can take. I feel like I'm losing my mind."

That you can relate to. Intimately.

"The solution is pretty obvious," you joke in an attempt to lighten the thick tension in the air. It almost makes it difficult to even breathe properly.

Your words have the opposite effect, however. Startled, fiery brown eyes meeting your own. Jisung looks like he's seriously considering it, and you're not sure whether your stomach knots itself in hope or anxiety.

"Jisung, I was-"

"Do you want to?"

Now it's your turn to stare at him in stunned silence. Probably looking like an absolute buffoon gaping at him. Is he joking? Is this his way of getting back at you?

"Wha-What?" Comes your brilliant response.

"Do you want to?" He repeats, both looking and sounding deathly serious.

"You don't have to do this, you know. If you don't want to. We can j-"

"I want to," he interrupts again, his cheeks darkening, but he doesn't falter in his words.

Your very hot, very kind, very funny roommate is offering himself on a silver platter. Even if you weren't so wet you could die, you'd be an idiot to say no.

"Okay," you whisper, meeting his eyes head on. Your heart thundering against your chest as you watch him shift closer to you. Barely any space left between the two of you. You're not sure who moves first, and it ultimately doesn't matter because after months of fantasising about it, Jisung's mouth is finally on yours.

Maybe it's the cookies, but your first kiss isn't gentle or slow or sweet. It's fierce and messy and desperate from the very beginning. Your hands not sure where they want to settle themselves. Alternating between pulling on his hair, pulling the most delicious whimpers from him or steadying yourself on his muscular shoulders while you two fall deeper into each other.

The gasp that leaves your mouth when Jisung nestles himself between your thighs is loud and throaty. He's hard. So hard and so hot that you can feel the heat radiating from him even through your respective clothing. Jisung wastes no time in covering your throat and jaw in sloppy, uncoordinated kisses while he shallowly grinds his erection against you. Greedily searching for any semblance of relief he can possibly find.

"Ji-Jisung," you moan, arching into his touch when one of his hands gives your breast an experimental squeeze. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," he groans against your neck between licks and nips, thumbing at your already hard nipple through your shirt.

"Re-Really?" You manage to ask through the fog. "Really," he responds, impatiently shoving your shirt up and taking one of your nipples into his mouth. To say you were unprepared for the sensation of being enveloped in his wet, warm mouth would be putting it lightly. You're so much more sensitive than usual. It might be the cookies, or it might just be Jisung. Probably a dangerous mixture of the two.

You've never cum just from having your breasts played with but, there's a first time for everything if the increasing wetness staining your shorts and inner thighs is any indication. Jisung, for his part, is content to spend hours with your tits in his face and in his mouth. Licking, sucking and fondling to his heart's content while he desperately humps your thigh. The dream, really.

He's about to whine when you tug him off of you, but he's shut up by your tongue being shoved down his throat. Your hands frantically pushing his tank top up and off of him until his bare torso is free for you to explore. Smiling into him when he whimpers at the way your nails rake across his skin. A pitchy 'fuck' greeting your ears when you accidentally brush one of his nipples. Oh. Interesting.

Kissing and touching him is a double-edged sword. On the one hand, Jisung is fantastic with his mouth, and his firm chest is incredibly fun to explore. Figuring out which places garner you groans or whimpers or whines. Which ones make him grind into harder. Which leads to the other hand. You're so soaked and painfully empty, and kissing him isn't helping to soothe any of those flames.

"Jisung," you mutter against his mouth, your hands ghosting over the waistband of his sweats. Delighting in the way he shudders above you and his abdominal muscles jump under your barely there touches.

"Ye-Yeah?"

"I want you to fuck me, please," you whine into his ear, lightly biting down on his lobe, "it hurts."

Jisung exhales a very long sigh against your throat, "You're going to kill me."

A breathless laugh bubbles out of you when he pulls away to shove his sweats down. Any trace of humour vanishes quickly when his cock smacks against his toned stomach. He's so hard that it looks painful, flushed an angry shade of red, and glistening with pre-cum. You can't help but stare. Your walls clamping down harshly around nothing.

"I thought you wanted to get fucked?" He asks with an arrogant grin on his stupidly handsome face.

"Shut up," you respond, lifting your hips and letting your shorts join the heap of clothing on your bedroom floor. It's your turn to feel a little smug when Jisung's eyes zero in on your pussy. You don't think you've ever been this wet in your entire life, and you're too far gone to have any semblance of self-consciousness or embarrassment.

Jisung returns to his position between your thighs before you can fire out any quips, his cock nudging your entrance causing your head to spin and a soft moan to slip from you. "Stop teasing," you whine, wrapping your legs around his waist and clinging to his broad back.

"So-Sorry," is all the warning you receive before he very gradually starts sinking into you. god, it's never felt like this. Ever. With anyone else. Tears accumulate in your eyes, and a few roll down your face with every inch he pushes into you.

"Are you okay?" He asks lowly, kissing your cheek repeatedly and halting his movements.

"Yeah. Yes, Ji, I'm fine. Please don't stop," you practically moan, clawing into his back when he mumbles a curse and continues.

You can barely think, let alone breathe when he's fully sheathed inside of you. His cock pulsing inside of you violently and Jisung quivering above you, hushed moans of your name and whimpers being pressed into your shoulder. A whine hitting your ears when you squirm a little and tighten your hold around his waist.

"Wait, fuck. Wait, don't move," he moans, his hands grounding himself with his hold on your pillowy thighs. You struggle to comprehend his words. Everything is so muddled and overwhelming, and he just feels so fucking good, and he hasn't even moved yet.

At first, you assume Jisung's increase in sounds of pleasure and throbbing inside of you is just because he's as overwhelmed as you are. Every single nerve feeling like it's engulfed in flames. However, when his strained apologies register, you realise he came. Hot spurts of his cum flooding your eager pussy and open-mouthed kisses being pressed into your shoulder between apologies.

"Ji-Jisung,"

"I'm fuck I'm really sorry. I didn't mean to. It just happened. Fuck you must think I'm so pathetic-"

"Jisung, stop. It-It's okay. That was really hot actually," you mutter, and you mean it. If anything, you're flattered that you managed to make him cum so fast.

"What? Really?" He asks, blinking down at him. His pretty eyes beyond fucked out and sweat dotting his face. God, he's so pretty. Your pussy clenching involuntarily.

"Yea- Wait, are you still hard?" You ask, only realising now that he's still nestled deeply inside of you despite the cum that's gradually starting to dribble out of you.

He looks as shocked as you. Seemingly not realising that his own cock hadn't softened in the slightest. "Holy shit," he breathes, thrusting into you experimentally, drawing a whimper and your nails biting into his back in reaction.

"Remind me to go back to that bakery," he utters into your throat. Giving you little time to adjust before picking up his pace considerably. Between your wetness and his cum, he fucks into you easily. Your combined noises of pleasure echoing throughout your bedroom while you two lose yourselves in one another.

You've been teetering on the edge for what feels like ages. All it takes is for Jisung to find your sweet spot for your eyes to roll into the back of your head and your back to arch into him. Your lovely, lovely roommate fucking you through it all and exploiting your newly discovered weakness.

"That's it, baby," he groans into your ear, his hands holding you firmly in place and making you take each and every thrust he gives you, "You're taking me so well. You're doing so good."

Those words are going to be replaying in your mind for the rest of your life.

Your mind is utterly blank as the most intense orgasm you've ever experienced wreaks your body. Your thighs shaking violently, and your hands holding onto Jisung for dear life while you tighten around him. Fuck. Fuck. You're so full, and it's so much, but not enough at the same time.

"More, please. Jisung, please. I want more," you cry out, not caring in the slightest about the pathetic, desperate edge to your voice. All you're capable of thinking about is cumming on his cock over and over again and, him filling you with his cum until it's still leaking out of you days later.

"I've got you, baby," he whispers, the pet name he's grown a fondness for causing butterflies to arise in your stomach.

"We're far from being finished."

#han jisung smut #jisung smut #stray kids smut #han smut #1k followers celebration day 7 #1k followers celebration #1k followers milestone

1K notes · View notes

pacifierbby · 6 months ago

Text

CINDERELLA ✧ ; - LN4

Taglist 𐙚 Masterlist

* ੈ✩‧₊ Being brought up in a royal family is hard. Your mother is always expecting something highly off from the way you dress and how you don't act like your other siblings. but what happens when you meet a prince at the masquerade ball? Will they be envied by your siblings and mother? and will there be love?

: ̗̀➛ pairing ln4 x royal fem reader

: ̗̀➛ warnings slight toxicity, fluff, kissing,

: ̗̀➛ Word counter 1,637

Being brought up in a royal family has its pros and cons the pros? well, the late-night balls that the royals have the cons? having your mother pestering you about how you dress and why you can't follow in your sister's footsteps. you always wanted to be like a normal kid who went to college and got your degrees and who partied at the crack of dawn sadly that's forbidden in royal households. that's why sometimes you wish that you weren't born into your family. especially with your evil mothers and siblings like a Cinderella fair tail. You just don't have a powerful godmother, just an awe-full one that you call your sister. your mother's own doing your father has no say

your father was different he cared how you thought about this life wished he could change it for you wished he could have sent you to school when you were younger he didn't care how you wore your clothes or how you did your makeup you were just a normal girl in a royal household. sadly, your father passed away last year. The only person who you could talk to suddenly wasn't here anymore, the person dividing you from your mother. telling her to let her be who she wants to be leaving a mad sigh from your mother slamming the door behind her leaving you and your dad alone once again that feeling of being protected from your father's well being long gone

that's when your life changed, your mother became colder towards you taking control of you. how you lived your life to how you dressed, banning you from the outside world and forcing you to act like your sisters.

Looking back at yourself through the mirror the hairstylist and makeup artist doing their job your mother giving them strict instructions to not let you change how the makeup is. The maids rushing around you giving your dress the final improvements. The dress that you will be wearing for the masquerade ball tonight it was lovely you must admit but it did show so much breast and you wasn't the most comfortable women and to be honest you very rarely wore something like this.

"Alright, Elle everything is done" the hairstylist softly spoke grabbing you from your thoughts and smiling at them through the mirror looking at their work "Thank you" you softly spoke standing up from the dresser and watching the ladies pack "You are very welcome," they both said and with a quick goodbye they walked out of your room leaving you to look in the mirror your make-up making you look different your hair has a wave to it softly bouncing every time you moved. Making you feel a little more comfortable in your self "Miss Ella should we try your dress on before Miss Woods comes in" the maid asked "Yeah" you replied walking towards where your maid was standing with your dress in her hands following her into your bathroom " okay miss Ella ill leave this here shout me if you need anything at all" nodding her head before she left you closing the door behind her. Grabbing the dress from its plastic protector, raising it above your head a little the diamonds around the top of the dress reflecting from the light. Giving the walls a little watery effect. Putting the dress over your head, letting the dress fall a little "Um excuse me" you shouted hoping the maids were still behind the door like they said hearing the door handle move sighing in relief "Yes Mrs Ella what can I do for you" the lady stepping in " can you help me with my buttons please" going red a little in embarrassment holding your dress up at the top making sure it didn't fall "of course my lady" turning away from her. "how does it feel" she asked once she finished the last button "slightly tight but I adore it" smiling at the lady "you look wonderful" she softly replied stepping back to look at you better " your father would be so happy if he could see you today " smiling at her a little looking down if she only knew that your mother forced you into doing this it would be totally different the way your feeling right now is so out of place yes you felt like a princess but this is not you.

Stepping out of your bathroom you saw your mother and sister standing beside your bed "Oh my Ella you are beautiful" walking towards you inspecting you thoroughly you knew this was all an act just to have in front of the maids the siblings smiling a little the evil smile that they always put on " isn't she just " they both replied your mother standing back in between them "well the cars here shall we go and hopefully you will find a lover boy" you knew that was a dig towards you. It wasn't the first time or when she would blackmail you about getting an arranged marriage. Not listening to their fake comments grabbed your purse from the bed following your sisters behind.

"Right, Ella, don't fool us tonight, lady. I know you don't want to be here or wear that dress or the makeup, so please, to god, act normal, " she harshly spoken inside your right ear, giving you the warning sign looking down at your feet softly playing with your hands hoping the time will go a little faster your sisters not hearing the words that your mother spoken or they will be teaming up and honestly that's the last thing you want tonight.

Getting out of the taxi, the freezing cold hair hugging you instantly pulling your jacket closer to your body, following the guards into the event everyone in line given a small face mask to cover their eyes. Your mother grabbed your hand before walking into the double doors. "Remember what i said in the car, Ella I don't want no stupid business" with gritted teeth looking around to see if anyone watched throwing your hand away from hers gritting your teeth a little but you couldn't defend yourself not here and definitely not right now walking away from your mother with your head down

sitting in the back off the hall people dancing switching from different partners every now and again your mother dancing with some guy his hand going to her bum not even bothering moving his hand rollings your eyes sometimes you did have thoughts about your mother even loving your dad or was it an act to get into this family? just like she pressured you into a young age to call her your mother a small, forgotten part that you should have said at the start of the story.

The dancers stopped stepping aside letting a handsome man step into the event your breathing stopped a little "this is the Kings son whoever he chooses to dance tonight with is the one" the girl who you whispered in your ear your eyes never leaving the curly brown hair man his eyes moving around the room suddenly stopping on yours your heart beating alot more than normal the boy moving alot closer to you reaching his hand out for you to grab "may I have this dance" connecting both of your hands together "of course" you whispered quietly

Your bodies moving in sync to the music, every person's eyes on you both your eyes falling on your family your step sisters filled with nothing but rage the brunette twirling you around "do you know what this means" he whispers in your ear shaking your head "no" looking into his eyes something about them automatically pulling you in " my dad said whoever I dance with tonight has to be the one and may I add you are one beautiful lady and something about you from many pretty girls in here pulled me in."Well, mysterious man, what's your name?" You asked a small smile on your face still watching where you put your feet "lando" the music slowly stopping both of your bodies separting "well I'm happy you picked me" lando grabbing your hand "Shall we grab a drink" moving you towards the bar the next song slowly coming through the speakers the people going back to the dance floor.

"Whose them people looking at you like they're about to kill you?" lando nodded over towards your family. You didn't need to look over. You knew exactly who he was talking about "My sisters and my mother" you softly replied taking a small swig from your drink " they hate me and everything I do dosent go by there standard's so when you asked me to dance they know now they're lower than what I am" Lando nodded "your mother" lando spoke "why is her face completely different to them though" "Because she won this is her dream and she didn't care which sister as long as one of us did it" playing with your glass lando nodded understanding "your safe with me now" stroking your back giving you some sort of comfort "thank you" you softly spoke.

Quicker the night started quickly the night ended most of the time you did stay with lando the best you can to stay away from your family not wanting the fakeness from your mother but you knew you had to go with them "my farther said we need a family dinner tomorrow 2pm sharp" lando came to you passing on his fathers words "sorry my farther blunt always have been always will" laughing a little "you don't have to say sorry I understand my family are quiet the same " Lando kissed you on your cheek "ill see you tomorrow" giving you some sort of flutters in your stomach.

a/n this is going to be a part series hope you enjoy reading it

#*ੈ✩‧₊˚pacifierbbyworks #formula one #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smau #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #mclaren #f1 smau #ln4 fluff #ln4 #ln4 imagine #ln4 x y/n #ln4 x you #lando norris imagines

229 notes · View notes

tiredmamaissy · 2 years ago

Text

Little Secret

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Characters: jake sully x na’vi reader x lo’ak sully

Warnings: nsfw, explicit smut, profanity, dub-con(?), heat cycle, dark/mr.stealyourgirl Jake, poor clueless Lo’ak, fingering, ab riding, oral sex (f receiving), infidelity, p in v

Word Count: 4.6k

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: I had to make it fair, you know, since Jake stole Neteyam’s mate. I’m just in my dark era, guys I’m sorry. Also, @jakexneytiri practically wrote this. This is for you, bestie. I love you and your big, juicy, sexy brain, I just wanna give it a big smooch.

Synopsis: Lo’ak is away on a two-day hunting trip, and you unexpectedly go into heat. Good thing the Olo’eyktan finds you before anyone else does.

“Are you sure? I can stay back.” Lo’ak breaks the kiss, cupping your cheek.

“Yes, Lo’. My heat won’t come for a few more days.” you smile softly, hands resting on his chest.

Just a few more eclipses and your heat would be here. As much as you wanted your mate to stay with you, you knew it was important that he goes on this two-day hunting trip. Supplies were low and he was one of the few warriors in the clan equipped to travel far distances. You nudge him towards the door, but he stands firm, resisting your pushes.

“My love.” He rests his hands over yours, giving them a gentle squeeze.

“Ma’ Lo’ak.” you say, eyes of innocence peering up into his.

“I can smell you.” he growls, briefly holding his breath to savour your faint scent.

His four words send shivers down your spine, hot breath prickling your skin. You could already feel your body’s arousal as the blood rushes to your cheeks, staining them a tinge of pink. You nibble on your bottom lip, chest tightening from the lustful eyes that bore into yours.

“Then you better hurry up and come back, alright?” you kiss him quickly and nudge him with shaky hands once more.

“So eager to get rid of me, huh? What? Have another na’vi coming to see you once I’m gone?” he chuckles, slowly retreating to the makeshift door.

“You know I don’t like when you make those jokes, Lo’ak.” you chide, offended that he thinks you’d do such a thing.

“Yeah, yeah. And what if I didn’t have anything against it?” he mumbles as you shove his shoulder, spinning him around to face the door. “Just as long as I get to remind you who’s really owns you after.”

Your tongue clicks in frustration. “Go, before the hunting party leaves you. Again.” you huff, giving him a final shove out the door.

----

Rousing from your deep slumber, you find that the dryness in your eyes makes it difficult to open them. You groan, not feeling nearly as rested as you should after such a long nap. The grogginess is so overwhelming that your eyelids feel like two bags of sand, weighing heavily on your face. Lethargy so potent it slumps you into a torpor trance, ebbing away whatever consciousness you have remaining.

Just like that, you fall into yet another cycle of sleep.

A few more hours pass, the eclipse now in full bloom. A familiar dopiness washes over you, lips cracked and dry from hours and hours of no hydration. You attempt to swallow, only for you to struggle to gather any spit to wad together. That’s when another familiar sensation quickly sets in. One where your body heats up from the inside out, starting at the core of your being, radiating to your extremities. Accompanied by intense dizziness, you could barely piece together a coherent thought. Screams echo in your head, demanding for ‘water, water, water’. You try to shuffle to your feet, only for them to give out, causing you to tumble back onto the mat beneath you.

Sitting in an utter state of bewilderment, you force open your unfocused eyes, trying your best to scan your tent with blurred vision. “Lo’ak?” you croak out a dry throat, only to remember that he’s not here. “Ah. Right...” you think aloud, using the back of your hand to feel your forehead. “’s so hot.” you mumble to yourself, giving your forehead a quick swipe, beads of sweat now dripping down your forearm.

Do I have a fever? I don’t feel good.

A heaviness takes over your body, limbs growing weightier by the second. Soon you’re lying on your back, trying your best to wriggle out of whatever flimsy cloth you have plastered onto your skin. The knot on your loincloth is so tight, your fingers fumble around trying to untie it. Frustration brews deep in your chest, overflowing with nowhere else to go but up and out your throat in a loud grunt.

With sweat dripping in your eyes, you practically go blind – double vision now setting in. “Fuck.” you cry out, giving up on trying to untie the knot and just going for the easier route – pulling it down your legs. You hook your fingers under the band of your garments, pulling and tugging it to the best of your abilities. But your attempts prove to be futile, thanks to the heaviness of your body, you’re only able to get it about halfway down.

At this rate you’re panting and squirming around trying to get these soaked things off your hot body. You huff loudly, frustration only growing stronger by the second. Quickly moving up to your top, you slip it down your chest, exposing your breasts. A cool, refreshing breeze wafts through the flap of your tent, hardening your nipples into peaks. Eywa, did that feel good.

Your entire body prickles in fervour, heating up to a dangerous degree. You could no longer deny the way you feel – your arousal. The slick seeping from your folds is evidence of it. It coats your thighs the more you rub them together, making a mess on not only yourself but the woven mat beneath you. With your loincloth around your knees, you find it difficult to spread your legs. All you can manage to do is shove your shaky hand between your thighs to try and bring some sort of relief to yourself.

It's like an itch. An itch so deep that you can’t scratch it, no matter how hard you try – no matter how many fingers you use. Your digits fondle with your sensitive clit, doing their upmost best to establish some sort of rhythm in their strokes. The frustration boiling in your chest doesn’t help, it only makes it more difficult to do it properly – to make yourself cum. Your breaths turn raggedy, volume increasing with each swipe of your clit.

The pressure in your chest is immense. It’s like you’re about to implode if you don’t release the tension. Drool dribbling down your cheek, you curl into a ball for better access to your slit. All three fingers eagerly part your folds, prodding at your hole. You bundle them together, shifting your pelvis forward to sink them inside you.

“Ohh!” you let loose a loud, sudden moan, finally feeling some of the pressure release. With no strength to work your fingers, you lazily hump your hand, sliding them in and out of your cunt. You can’t help but let your heavy-lidded eyes close, allowing you to focus on the sensation budding in your womb. It feels so empty – so hollow. You just need to be stuffed to the brim and filled up.

All you can think about is your mate. The two braids that hang freely in front of his face, his brawny stature, his big hands, and lengthy fingers. The things you’d do to have them inside you right now, furling right into your g-spot, satiating that annoying itch deep inside you. Just the mere thought of it quickly turns your ragged breaths into lengthy whines and whimpers as you try to imitate your mate’s touches.

----

Jake dismounts his beast, stroking its tough exterior in efforts to calm him. He had just come back from a stressful meeting about the sky people and their upcoming agenda. With their return, things have become arduous; hunting parties have been targeted on a regular basis, making it difficult to hunt in familiar, well-known areas. Therefore, the stronger, more equipped warriors have been venturing farther out to hunt, typically for a few days at a time, leaving the clan under the protection of Olo’eyktan.

Making quick strides towards the tents, he overhears high-pitched noises. Ears perking up, his head turns to the source of the whimpering and whining. If anyone is in any sort of trouble, it is his duty as Olo’eyktan to help. He follows the noises, only to be led to his son’s tent. Three na’vi men surround the hut, all facing one another, seeing who will back down first. “Men.” the Olo’eyktan speaks, breaking the tension. Their heads snap towards Jake, acknowledging his presence by signing ‘I see you’. “What’s going on here?” Jake asks, hands resting on his hips.

“Someone has left their mate in heat, sir.” one of the men responds.

Jake’s heart skips a beat. If this is his son’s tent, then surely the na’vi in heat is...you.

Seeing these three men linger around you triggers his possessive instincts, or perhaps it was your pheromones wafting past his nose. Either way, he didn’t like the crowd around your tent. “Erm.” he clears his throat, “I will take it from here.” he mutters. The men hesitate to leave, all looking at one another like a new challenger has arrived. “Dismissed!” Jake shouts, startling the men.

“Yes, sir.” they say in unison, bowing their heads and retreating.

----

“Y/n?” Jake’s faint voice is muffled by your lengthy mewls and squelching noises you’re working out of your cunt. “Ah, shit.” he curses, hand flying up to cover his nose. “Y/n.” he calls out once more, approaching your trembling body with caution. “You in heat, sweetheart?”

“L-lo’ak? Is that y-you?” you pant, seeing a blurry tall figure approach you – eyelids too heavy to open fully. “I-I can’t take this anymore. I can’t – I can’t do it. ‘ts too much. too much. too much.” your teeth chatter as the words dislodge from your dry throat. “P-please. I-I... hah... ah - need help. Please. Please. Please.”, you desperately hump your slick coated hand. “Ngh - need... ugh – need w-water, lo’, please.”

Jake clicks his tongue at the sight of you squirming around with your loincloth halfway down your legs, trying to bring relief to yourself. “How long have you been like this, baby girl? Where is that boy? Hm?” he coos, fetching a cup of water.

He kneels beside you, feeling your sweaty forehead with the back of his hand. “You’re burnin’ up, look at ya. That boy leaving you in heat alone.” he mutters, shaking his head in disappointment. “C’mere, drink for me.” he hoists you into his lap, your fingers still hooked inside you as you nuzzle into him.

He perches your head in the dip of his arm and brings the cup to your chapped lips, watching you eagerly lap up the water. It feels so good, so refreshing – like putting ice on a burn. “M-more Lo’ak.” you mumble, clawing at the wrist holding the cup to your mouth, trying to tip more out of it.

“It’s not Lo’ak, baby girl. It’s Jake.” Jake speaks gently, pulling his hand from your grasp to get more water for you.

Jake? The – the Olo’eyktan? Oh Eywa.

“Here.” he tilts the cup to your lips once more, watching you quench your undying thirst. “Atta girl, y’must be hungry too.” he puts down the cup, “What do you need, hm?” he coos, swiping away the stands of hair stuck to your face.

“N-need. Need.” you blubber, hips spasming uncontrollably against your hand. “I-I need, m-my mate. Need. Ne – ngh! S-sir, ‘m so – oh! s-sorry.”

“It’s alright. You’re okay. ‘m gonna call for him now.” He presses the microphone on his throat comm, paging for his son.

“Boy. You really left your mate in heat? Get your ass here. Now.” He whispers harshly, lips curling over his teeth.

“She’s – what? Shit. Yes sir. Coming now.” Lo’ak responds.

Jake huffs out a sigh, eyes drawn to your sticky hand working at your pussy. He watches you struggle a little, fingers barely halfway inside you, covered in a glossy layer of slick. He could tell that the cloth binding your legs together is only making it more difficult for you to fuck yourself. Call it pity, or just plain corruption, but he wanted to help you so, so badly.

“Just gonna help you take this off, alright?” he hums, fiddling with the taut knot on your loincloth. Once the knot becomes undone, your legs snap open, aphrodisiac scent filling the tent. He couldn’t help himself, he had to look – to look at the soft flesh between your legs. It’s obvious his body is succumbing to the influence of your heat, warming up alongside you as you plunge your fingers deeper into yourself.

Meanwhile, you can’t help but whine and whimper, squirming around in his lap as you try to find a better position to hump at your hand. The frustration in your chest has budded into something else completely, something that’s making you feel feverish in your head. All you could think about was your desire, no– your need to be stuffed. You just needed to scratch that maddening itch, to put out that menacing flame.

Your fingers feel so raw and rubbed out, yet so numb at the same time. But you simply couldn’t bring yourself to take them out of you, to allow for the empty sensation to creep back in. Blood now simmering under your skin, you needed him to help you. Your free hand reaches out for his wrist, using it as leverage to place his hand onto your clammy chest. It snaps his gaze up to yours, searching your delirious, watery eyes.

“Hey, hey. No need to cry, alright? Try use your words, sweetheart. Tell me what ya need and I’ll get it for you.” he coos, face screwed with concern.

“Need – need help. Need help.” you repeat franticly, tugging his stiff hand down to your stomach. “’s not enough!” you blurt out, frustrated that he’s resisting your tugs.

“y’not yourself, y/n.” he even struggles to say the words, brows gathering to wrinkle his forehead. “’m not your mate, sweetheart.”

“Please.” you let out a pained whine, ignoring his warning as you tug even harder at his hand. “It – it hurts, sir.”

He grimaces at your vulnerable, carnal state. Blood rushes to his face, flushing his cheeks the more your pheromones smother him. He tries to hold his breath – his poor attempt to maintain his composure, but your scent is too potent now that you’re in the thick of your heat. Unable to deny his own arousal, evident in the tautness of his loincloth, he finds himself giving in, taking long, deep breathes to savour your sweet, sweet scent.

“God. You smell so fuckin’ good.” Succumbing to the influence of your heat, he yields to your little tugs, allowing his hand to slowly slide down to your stomach.

“Sir. Sir, please. I-I can’t take it... anymore” you hiccup, fingernails digging into his skin. “I-I need... ngh... haah.” you struggle with your words, allowing for your tugs to speak on your behalf.

“Say it.” he growls, slipping his hand down your sticky pelvis, grasping your slender wrist. “Say it so I can help you, baby girl.” the eager words slip out just as his eyes meet yours, insisting you give your spoken consent first.

“I-I need them inside, sir... right here, please” you pant, spreading your trembling legs for him.

“Right here?” he utters innocently, gently pulling your fingers out of your cunt, exposing your slit.

“Yes! Yes sir! H-hurry, please. ‘m so, so empty. It – it hurts.” you whine loudly, hips bucking on their own.

“Shh. Shh. ‘m gonna help you now.” he hushes you, sliding his palm over your pussy. “But we keep this our little secret, yeah?”

“Y-yes sir!” you sob, rolling your hips against his hand, coating it with a thick layer of your slick.

“Call me Jake.” he breathes, sliding two fingers inside of you. “Shit. So tight. So wet. Jesus, you’re soaked. You’re really in heat, aren’t you?” he fingers you roughly, furling and unfurling his digits into your sweet spot, expertly working out sloppy, squelching noises from your cunt.

“Oh fuck – Jake!” a loud, needy moan splits your lips. Fuck, did it feel so good. You’ve been unintentionally edging yourself this entire time, unable to reach this part of yourself with your own fingers. Not to mention the fact that Jake’s fingers are much, much thicker, and lengthier than yours. You couldn’t hold back the lewd noises evading your mouth.

“Yeah, right there? Look at you, making a mess on my fingers.” he chuckles, forearm becoming veiny from how roughly he’s fingering you. Your hips rolled against his hand, rubbing your clit against his callused palm as you chased your fast approaching climax. You yearned for it so badly that you allowed your body to take over for you, fucking his fingers as if it were his Lo’ak’s cock.

Oh, Lo’ak.

“i-is Lo’ak coming?” you barely get out, feeling your walls flutter around his fingers.

“Yeah, he’s coming, but I think you are too.” Jake smirks, feeling your heat spasm around his digits. “Go on, cum f’me.” Just like that, your sweet nectar coats his fingers, body convulsing uncontrollably in his lap as you release silent screams into the air. “Juust like that, good girl.” he hums, quickly pulling his fingers out of you to have his taste of you. “Jesus, you taste just how you smell.”

All you can feel is the ache of your womb, craving to be filled to the brim – the throb of your clit, begging to be stroked. Thick of your heat clouding your head, the emptiness creeps back in tenfold. Still having no control over your own body, you find yourself mounting Jake. Everything feels like a blur, hazy vision and dizziness take over, and before you know it you’ve knocked him onto his back.

“’m s-sorry” you hiccup, hips situating themselves on his stomach.

“Don’t be sorry. Do whatever you need, baby girl.” he reassures you, watching as your hands settle on his chest, supporting your heavy body as you grind into him.

At every rock, you coat his abs with your slick, and soon you were gliding back and forth on his stomach with ease. Each bump from his abs was hitting your clit just right, making you press yourself further onto him, pulsing clit desperate for the friction. “Want some help, sweetheart?” he asks, voice feigned with innocence.

You nod in a frantic manner, brows pinched as you hold your breath. He slides his hand up to grip your thigh, thumb lightly drawing tight circles into your clit. The little shocks shooting through your clit wind you, leaving you breathless. Your eyes slam shut, as you focus on the feeling budding in your womb once more and fuck, you just couldn’t stop the buck of your hips. Tiny, sweet mewls evade your lips as you grind into him once more. “Breathe f’me, y/n.”

Hearing the Olo’eyktan say your name in that way brings you back momentarily, eyes snapping open as a breath of air fills your lungs. “There you go. Don’t want you passin’ out on me.” he chuckles breathily, pressing his thumb into your clit a little harder. Jake’s eyes widen as he watches you leak all over him, slick dripping down the sides of his stomach. “Fuck. Gonna have to rehydrate you if you keep making a mess on me like that, sweet girl.”

“’m sorry, s-sir, mmn Jake.” you moan breathlessly, so, so close to cumming all over his stomach.

Jake hears a buzz of static in his right ear. “Dad? How is she? I’ll be there when the sun comes out.” Lo’ak chimes in through Jake’s earpiece.

“Need you to be quiet f’me, alright sweetheart?” he coos, edging you by slowing the pace of his strokes, only making you rock into him harder.

“She’s doing so well.” he praises you, voice bouncing with every thrust of your hips.

“Okay, dad. T-tell her I love her and that I’m sorry.” Lo’ak’s voice cracks.

“Alright, son. I will.” Jake utters under the trance of your heat, removing his hand from the microphone to place it on your other hip.

“Look at you, squirming around tryna make yourself cum. Want my help?” he asks, already manhandling your hips to yank you up to sit on his face. You look down through blurry vision as he situates his face between your thighs. His warm tongue feels so good that you can’t help but wiggle your hips down onto him, grinding into him. He takes every hump with fervour, lapping up whatever sweet nectar leaks into his mouth.

“S-top.” your breath hitches, word slipping out broken and hoarse. “m’gonna cum in your mm-mouth.” Jake squeezes your hips tighter and shoves your cunt further into his face, silently encouraging you to just do it already.

So, you do.

“Jake.” a little whimper parts your lips, “J-jake. ‘s c-coming.” your breath hitches, “Jake!” you cry out, feeling your walls clench around nothingness as the coil in your abdomen suddenly snaps in two. A pleased hum vibrates low in his chest as he follows each thrust of your hips, letting you ride out your orgasm on his face. Slumping over, you hold on to his hair, thighs closing around his face.

He couldn’t take it anymore. His cock throbbed so painfully in his loincloth he really felt like he was about to cum just from hearing you cry his name. The taut material was slick from his own arousal as precum oozed from his tip. He begins to thrust into the air, each squeeze of his hips rubbed his cock just right against his loincloth. He grunts into your cunt, hands sliding their way up your hips to your waist, using it as leverage to pull you off his face with a -pwah-. He gasps for air as he lies you flat on your back, positioning his covered crotch right at the swell of your ass.

All this rubbing just wasn’t enough, you needed something inside you – something to stuff you until you feel queasily full. But all you can think about is your Lo’ak. How you want his cock. How you wish the hardened bulge pressing firmly against your pussy lips was his, and not his fathers. But, oh fuck did his fathers cock feel so good, nestling itself between your plump folds. You just wanted him to fuck into you, right now. Your body wanted it more – it was evident in the way that your hips spasmed against him, trying their best to burrow this clothed bulge inside you.

“Whatcha doing, sweetheart? Tryna fuck me through my loincloth?” he chuckles, pushing back your legs until your knees brush against your flushed cheeks – exposing your glistening, soft pussy. “God. So fuckin’ pretty.” he swipes all four fingertips from your hole up to your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves just right. “Hah. ‘m kinda jealous.” he admits, your heat heightening his territorial instincts.

Oddly, your body only seems to be growing hotter. It feels as if your skin is sizzling under his cool, sensual touches, making the tears stream down your face at a faster rate, “’s not enough... not enough... really – ugh! pleasee” you beg through a whine, not even knowing what for.

Jake knows. He knows exactly what you want – what you need. But he needs you to say the words first – to give him your permission to sink his cock inside you. And until you said those words, he’d continue to restrain himself from doing anything you didn’t outwardly beg for. He wraps your legs around his hips before wiping away your tears with his thumbs.

“Oh, sweetheart. No need for those. Tell daddy what you need. C’mon, use your words.” he huffs, his own hips moving on their own accord – grinding into the softness of your pussy.

“Need you.” you pant, tugging at the band of his loincloth.

“Need me where, baby girl?”

“Inside! Need y-you inside me!” you blurt out, frustration so thick in your chest.

He didn’t even have the willpower to respond to you, as he finds himself franticly slipping down his loincloth just enough for his painfully hard cock to spring out, his tip swiping between your pussy lips before slapping against his belly. Holding the base of his length, he lines himself up with your entrance.

“Our little secret, right?”

“Yes” you pant, pelvis shifting to desperately sink down onto his length.

“Oh, fuck. So fuckin’ tight.” he groans lowly, head slumping forward the second his tip kisses your cervix. The more your walls clench around him, the more his restraint dissipates. His hips begin to move on their own, sticky pelvises languidly smacking into one another. Eyes glancing up to yours, he notices the sheer desperation in your eyes and quickly picks up the pace – fucking into you like an animal.

Your filthy moans catch in your throat, mouth agape as your brows gather. He’s so big, bigger than Lo’ak, touching parts of you that have never been touched before. It’s what you’ve been wanting, no – needing, to be stuffed like this, filled to the brim that you could feel it in your stomach. He angles his hips, jamming his swollen tip right into your swelling g-spot. It heavenly – so blissful that you could already feel that coil in your abdomen twist so tightly it’ll snap in two once more.

He can feel it too, the tightening of his core – the swift approach of his own climax. He ruts into you faster, focus shifting from your pleasure to his. He’s so overcome by the influence of your heat that the only thing echoing in his mind is to breed you. He just wants to flood your insides with his hot seed so badly, to mark you as his. It’s silly really, he had Neytiri in his tent waiting for his arrival, yet here he was thinking about knocking up his son’s mate.

“Want me to cum inside you? Get you pregnant, my little secret?” he pants heavily, thrusts becoming shorter yet deeper, and soon he’s grinding into your cunt, rubbing his pelvic bone against your clit.

“N-no, no. Don’t.” you mumble, yet your hips push back into his thrusts, trying to drill his cock into your womb so he could empty himself inside you.

“But your body is tellin’ me otherwise, baby girl.” he chuckles breathily, feeling your walls heat up around his cock. “You better cum before I do.” he huffs, giving your clit a single swipe – sending you over the edge. You gush all over his stomach, walls pulsating feverishly around his cock, doing their best to milk his seed into your womb as your body shudders underneath him.

You shake your head from side to side, haziness of your heat finally lifting from feeling so full. “Don’t c-cum in me, sir. Please” you hiccup, consciousness slipping away as he grinds into you.

“Jesus, fuck. You’re squeezin’ me just right. Gonna breed this little fucking pussy of yours. Make you mine.” he gives you a deep thrust, before barely pulling out of you in time to spill his warm seed all over your stomach. He rides out the last lap of his high in his hand as guttural, lengthy groans evade his lips. His head snaps up to see the sun’s rays shine through the cracks of the tent – Lo’ak would be here any minute.

He quickly fixes his loincloth before tying yours back around you. Going for a bucket of clean water and a cloth, he starts cleaning off your stomach. He tries to keep a straight face, pretending to cool you off with the cloth as he hears rustling behind him – the flap of the tent opening. He tries not the budge when he hears his son’s voice pierce the air.

“Thank you... for taking care of her, dad.” Lo’ak’s hushes his voice, realizing that you’re sleeping.

“It was no problem at all, she was a good girl. Handled it very well.” Jake mutters, plopping the cloth back into the water as he stands up. “I’ll leave ya to it, son.” he pats Lo’ak’s shoulder as he walks past him.

Tags:@jakexneytiri @sweethoneycn @deadgirl02 @keijis-wifey @pandorxx @swiftielivvie @teyamfangirl @avatar-lover @sooebear @vanillawhale @bxnnywriting @athenachu @trashboat-the-raccoon @avaixe @qweq-6802 @rodeosayu @girlpostingsposts @erinloversworld @agelsully @zetey @raaaaainn @eywascall @yawneneteyam @weirdomcu @pandxrastars @eichenhouseproperty @camgod78 @kibiscribbles @bedofpearls @kurtsworld096 @audrinawf @otukirey @deexdeez @c78r @bby-bo @neteyamsmate4life @wheniseeyouigogonutz @sullymenrhot @jakescumdump @erenjaegerwifee @eywaheardyou @saturnheartz @lovekeeho @afro-hispwriter @lovemyavatar @rainbowsocks @eddiesluvt @etherialblackrose @sleepilysworld @fezandashgirlfriend @kahlowy @babyymeme @lovekeeho @ilove444sworld @kaixiio @becksimagination @ameliestsblog @theycallmesia @boooogieman @fanboyluvr @boohoobaby @that-one-lightskin @st-cass @jakesully-sbabygirl @urfavgirlmakenna @zaddyskye69 @doggyteam2028 @iikatsukii @netemoon @onmyknees4loak @1-800-not-simping @khamaniix @littlelilies

2K notes · View notes

arcane-vagabond · 9 months ago

Text

Amhrán na Farraige

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Selkie!Reader

Summary: For centuries there have been legends of beautiful women who disguise themselves as creatures from the sea, only coming to land to sate their curiosity about the world above. Bradley was a simple man who had a taste for simple pleasures. A whole life spent at sea meant he was accustomed to these tales, but nothing prepares him for the reality of them.

Content Warning: ANGST, smut (brief, p in v), Pregnancy, References to the supernatural, Third person narrative, Some fluff, Dub-con, Kidnapping, Forced marriage (kind of, you'll see), Stockholm Syndrome, Some domestic violence (against spouse and towards children. Nothing heinous, just some grabbing and shaking), Anger, Celtic myths/legends, Celtic songs, Depression, Lies, Men driven mad, Descriptions of blood. I think I got everything, but PLEASE let me know if I missed anything.

Word Count: 13.2k

Helpful pronunciations (not exact, but close):

Amhrán na Farraige - [oh-ron nuh far-ig-uh] "Song of the Sea"

Sidhe - [She] "Fairy" (Also there's a whole etymology thing with this but yeah)

Mo Chroi - [moh khree] "My heart"

Mo Ghrá - [moh graw] "My love"

Mo Mhuirnín - [moh wor-neen] "My beloved"

Mo Stóirín - [mo store-een] "My Little Treasure"

Song One (The cliffs) || Song Two (The end)

God was not real, of this Bradley Bradshaw was sure and certain. At the very least, if he had existed at all, he was surely dead now. Or perhaps he was a neglectful deity. Bradley had seen too much death and hardship in his life to think otherwise.

He had seen men gasp for an unhearing god as they lay on battlefields, blood coursing out the holes in their bodies as tears streamed down their unseeing eyes. He had seen children starve, begging their still mothers for food that would never come, not while hardship endured in the land. He had heard the wails of women as their sons, brothers, fathers, and husbands never returned home, hand reaching out for an embrace that would never be returned.

All eyes looked to God, but God did not look back.

The only thing Bradley was sure of, was the existence of the fair folk, the Sidhe his mother had always called them. The beings who walked the between, never staying long in this world or the next.

“That shadow that lingers in the corner of your eye?” She had smiled, stroking the hair out of his face. “That’s the fair folk, honey. Always watching, but never seen. If they do let you see them, Bradley, then it’s already over. They’ve gotten you.”

His mother had done her best to keep him sheltered from the horrors of the world, but death and famine followed the people along the coast. His father had died in a shipwreck off the coast when he was young, and while his mother had done her best to keep her sorrow hidden, Bradley often caught her eye turned towards the sea. She disappeared when he was only sixteen.

Bradley had heard stories of people being taken by the fair folk, lured to the hills beyond the town, some never to be seen again, while others came back different. He wondered if the men who had gone off to war had been taken, replaced with something hollow, something not quite all there. Had his mother been taken by the Sidhe? Taken to the land beyond to be with his father? Or had her sorrow and longing for her long-dead husband become too much all at once, the grips of the icy waters too tempting an offer to resist?

It didn’t matter anymore, though. Bradley was alone and took work where he could, soft hands of youth turning to calloused hands of adulthood. His once bright eyes grew dull from the monotony of the jobs at sea, life becoming routine as day after day he boarded a ship to earn his livelihood.

As he grew older, the wages from the odd jobs allowed him to purchase his own vessel, a small boat that rocked in the choppy waves as he hunted the seals that littered the coasts.

He remembered watching from the small house he and his mother lived in as the creatures hopped out of the water to lay on the rocks. He would inch towards the door until she caught him, a stern look on her face as she scowled at him.

“If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times,” she scolded him, hands on her hips. “You leave those creatures alone. They’re not doing anything to bother you.”

“Elijah’s da’ hunts them,” he remarked once, only serving to deepen her scowl.

“He does,” she muttered. “And he’s a lucky man that the selkies are a forgiving lot.”

“What’s a selkie?” Bradley had asked, eyes lighting up in intrigue. His mother regarded him for a moment before gesturing for him to sit in one of the chairs by the fireplace. Bradley settled in, eyes eager as he waited for his mother to explain.

“The selkies are fair folk of the sea,” she began, eyes serious as they darted above his head to look out the window towards the beach. “They may look like seals, but underneath their blubber and fur, they look like people just like you and me. They’re beautiful, Bradley, but curious to a fault. They walk on land in human form, shedding their seal skin once every seven years.”

“Why seven?” He had asked, voice small with wonder.

“Just the way the magic works,” she had replied with a shrug. “You can always tell when a seal is a selkie based on the size. The bigger the seal, the more likely it is to be a selkie, Bradley. Killing it and taking the skin will earn you pay, but you’ll have blood of the fair folk on your hand. Remember that.”

And he had remembered, for a while at least. He would watch the seals as they basked on the rocks, always wondering if the ones that met his curious gaze were one of the fair folk - a selkie.

Now the years had passed, grown from a small boy into a man of large stature. He commanded respect from those in the small, seaside village. Long had the days passed when his mother had warned him of hunting the seals and long had passed the days when he took those warnings seriously. He had joined the few who hunted the creatures around the rocky shores, braving the misty seas to earn himself a living.

He sat in his boat, the waves rocking him side to side in the way they often do during misty weather. Bitter cold clawed at his skin, numbing his fingers as he waited. Waited for something to come out of the water. Waited for any sign that he would earn a meal.

He fiddled with the ropes that lie around the floor of the boat, tying knots that he would need later. Undoing them, tying them, undoing them again. Anything to keep himself occupied while he lay in wait.

His breaths came out as white puffs of clouds, matching the ones surrounding him. Ice water clung to the whiskers on his upper lip, dripping down to run along his jaw and throat. He shifted, burying himself further into the warmth his coat provided. It was worn. He would need a new one soon. All the more reason to keep hoping for a prize catch.

The sound of disturbed water drew his attention towards the shore, and he slowly crept forward to peer over the side of the boat. A large seal bobbed at the surface, taking slow, deep breaths of the cold air that surrounded them. Slowly, Bradley reached for his harpoon, watching as the seal floated closer and closer. He raised his arm slowly, taking aim. He took a breath. Then another.

He released the harpoon just as a wave crashed into the side of his boat, sending the weapon veering off course. The harpoon struck the seal’s side, creating a gash that seeped blood into the water. The seal gave a pained cry, diving down into the murky depths of the sea, and Bradley cursed.

He stared at the spot where the seal had disappeared, already feeling the pangs of hunger stab at him. His nostrils flared as the desperate sense of anger welled up within him. How could he have been so careless? The size of that pelt would have brought in enough money to last him months. He heaved a sigh, pulling the rope to bring the harpoon back towards him. His fingers dipped into the icy water, the pain of it distracting him momentarily from his despair.

Bradley tossed the harpoon to the floor, the item landing with a thud as he slumped onto the bench. He buried his face in his hands, mind moving with blinding speed. He could still earn enough money to survive, he thought to himself. He could still do this. He just had to be more careful next time, should wait until he’s closer so he doesn’t miss. Still, his mind wandered back to the seal. The sheer size of it had his mind drifting back to the stories his mother had always told him. Of course, Bradley was older now, and he wouldn’t be scared by tall tales. However, the foolishness of youth still clung to him, for though he was now considered a man, he was barely twenty-two summers old.

Bradley heaved a sigh, sitting up and rubbing his hands together to create some warmth that would awaken his freezing fingers. He gripped the oars in his hands and began to row back to shore, the sun already dipping towards the horizon. He was always tempted to stay out past dark, but the older fishermen and hunters warned him of the dangers that came about at night. While Bradley was a fool, he wasn’t stupid.

He neared the dock that stood on the beach outside his home, moving to secure the boat to one of the posts when something caught his eye.

It floated in the water, a silvery grey blob that moved with the tide. Bradley’s eyes narrowed as he tried to place what it was in his mind. The blob slapped up against the side of the boat, and it was then that he realized what he was looking at. It was a perfectly preserved seal pelt, much like the one he had just seen. He supposed that it had fallen off a cart on the way to market, the winding roads by the cliffs being one of the few ways to make it into town. It wasn’t unusual for things to be knocked off of carts, finding their way onto the beaches and eventually into the sea.

Bradley wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth, not after his blunder. He scooped the pelt into the boat, laying it out to dry before lifting himself onto the dock. It would be days before he could take it to the market to sell, and he hoped no one recognized it when he did make his way into town.

An odd feeling overcame him in that moment, a feeling of unease and tension winding up his spine and gripping his throat. The feeling told him he was being watched, but by what, he did not know. His eyes darted around, expecting to see one of his neighbors by the house, but no one stood atop the cliff. The wind picked up around him, the cold of it stealing the breath from his lungs, and he curled in within himself to try and preserve some of the warmth he had left. The feeling told him he was making a mistake, but he ignored it, surmising that what he felt was guilt at having come into fortune from another’s strife.

Bradley shook his head to rid himself of the feeling, taking one last look around before trudging across the beach and up the path to his home.

The house was cold, but not for lack of warmth. Bradley kept the rooms heated well. No, the house lacked the happiness that made it a home, and this was something he was keenly aware of. It had been a home once, way back before his mother had disappeared.

Now, Bradley existed within its walls, hoping one day that he would find himself ready to settle for one of the pretty girls in town, the ones that smiled at him sweetly whenever he deemed it necessary to venture in. Perhaps he would finally give in to Orla’s flirting. She was a sweet thing, always filling his cup more than she ought to, setting it down in front of him with a bat of her eyes. She wasn’t a bad choice.

Bradley shook the thoughts from his head. He couldn’t entertain the idea of taking a wife, not when his circumstances were so uncertain.

He settled further down into his chair, feet propped up by the fire, the glowing embers serving to help warm him from his time out in the cold air during the day. The wood cracked and popped as the fire consumed it, and Bradley soon found himself dozing off. Exhaustion seeped down to the very marrow of his bones, his muscles stiff from the hours spent hunched over on the boat. His eyes began to flutter shut, urging him to embrace the sweet oblivion that came with sleep.

His body jerked, eyes snapping open. He wasn’t sure what had startled him at first, his heart hammering away in his chest as he let out a shaky breath. His ears perked, eyes darting as he waited for whatever it was that had roused him. He didn’t have to wait long, a second cry sounding from outside.

It was one of pure, unadulterated sorrow. The cry of someone so grief stricken, they sounded almost like an animal. A chill ran down Bradley’s spine at the sound, and cautiously he moved to stand, heading towards the front door. Every fiber in his body screamed at him to leave well enough alone, but he worried that someone might be heart or in trouble. Grabbing his coat, he slipped back into his boots and walked out the door.

The cold was something he thought he should be used to at this point, but it still shocked his system every time he stepped foot out into it. The moon was the only source of light save for the faint, orange glow that filtered out of the windows of his house. The air stung his lungs, and he suppressed a shiver that threatened to run up his spine. The cry had sounded far, coming from towards the beach if he had to guess. He began to walk, boots crunching against the dirt path as it gave way to sand. The waves crashed against the shore like thunder, so loud that he almost didn’t hear the faint cries coming from further down the strip of sand.

He almost missed her huddled in the sand, back pressed up against one of the large rocks at the edge of the shoreline where sand met grass. Her head was buried in the crook of her arms, shoulders shaking as she cried, quiet whimpers wracking her body.

“Miss?” He called out once he was a few feet away. “Are you okay?”

Her head snapped up, hair falling in her face as sorrow filled eyes peered up at him. The look of her knocked all air out of his lungs, and for a moment he couldn’t focus on anything but how beautiful the woman in front of him was.

“Can’t find it,” she croaked. Her voice was still sweet sounding despite the hoarseness of it, and Bradley found himself captivated even further by her. His eyes left her face then, realizing for the first time that she was naked.

“Oh my god,” he murmured, rushing forward as he shrugged off his coat. “Here, take this.”

He wrapped the coat around her smaller frame, the material dwarfing her. Her lips trembled, though Bradley suspected it wasn’t from the cold. She didn’t seem to see him as she continued muttering to herself, eyes darting wildly between her hands and the sea.

“Can’t find it,” she said again, her voice growing in pitch as the desperation took hold.

“Can’t find what?” Bradley asked, brow furrowing in confusion as he glanced around the beach. “Did someone hurt you? Where are your clothes?”

A choked cry spilled past her lips as a fresh wave of tears began to stream down her face. She shook her head wildly, hands darting out to grasp at his shirt. Her fingers seemed to push him away and pull him closer at the same time as another wail climbed up her throat.

“Can’t find it!” She shrieked, eyes growing wider as she stared at the water. “Wanna go home.”

“Where is home?” Bradley asked, his own anxiety beginning to peak as he gripped onto the woman’s shoulders. Her eyes glanced to his, but they did not see him.

“Between the light, between the dark,” she whispered, eyes boring into him. “Between the cold, between the warmth. Between the moon, between the sun. Between the north, between the south.”

The between was something Bradley’s mother had always cautioned him about.

“It’s where the fair folk live, Bradley,” she had told him. “They don’t live here, but they don’t live fully in the other. They’re from somewhere in between.”

He shook the thought from his head. He knew he was being superstitious, ridiculous even. The fair folk were prideful beings, surely one wouldn’t be sitting here talking with him like this.

And yet, as Bradley looked upon this woman, heard how she spoke, a voice in the back of his mind whispered to him that there was something strange about her. Something…otherworldly.

“Are you alone?” He settled on, trepidation clear in his tone. “Is there someone I can go get for you?”

“Can’t go home,” she muttered, eyes turned longingly to the sea as tears streamed down her face. “It’s too late.”

Bradley heaved out a sigh. He would have to take her home, let her rest and try again in the morning.

“Can you stand?” He asked her. She said nothing, nails biting into the skin of her arms as she continued to stare out at the water. Bradley reached out to her, Taking her arms gently to help her stand. Her lips curled in a wince, hand flying to her side. His eyes flickered down, and for the first time noticed the dried blood on her side.

“You’re hurt,” he frowned, moving closer to inspect the wound, but she shied away from him, her own frown tugging on her lips. His tongue darted out to wet his own nervously, as he glanced from her to the house.

“My house is a bit of a ways up the hill,” he started, nodding towards it. Her gaze was more focused now, eyes flickering towards where he gestured. “Do you think you can make it?”

She didn’t respond, instead tilting her head to the side as she regarded the distance. Finally, she nodded, and Bradley felt his shoulders sag in relief. The wind whipped around them, and he was reminded of how cold it was. It would be best to get her inside as soon as possible, though he couldn’t help but notice that she seemed holy unaffected by the freezing temperatures even though she stood in nothing but his coat.

He waited for her to move towards the house, but she remained still, watching him watch her. Finally, he pressed his lips together and began to walk towards the house, boots crunching against the ground once more. The woman made no sound as she moved behind him, her gaze fixated on him the entire time.

He paused outside the front door, hand hesitating above the knob. Slowly, he turned to look at her once more. Her eyes stared back at him, eyes that reflected the orange glow cast into the night, eyes that swirled with knowledge that Bradley could only dream of. She said nothing as they watched each other, those sorrowful eyes watching him with curiosity, so much like seals that littered the shores. Bradley sucked in a quick breath before turning around to push the door open.

The warmth was welcome, and he felt some of the tension ease from his shoulders as he stepped into the main room, turning to watch as the woman stepped across the threshold. Her eyes darted around, taking in the various pieces of furniture and decorations that were scattered about as Bradley closed the door softly behind her. She took a few more tentative steps into the house, head cocking to the side in such an unusual way as to further confirm what Bradley was slowly accepting.

She walked past him, eyes glittering with intrigue as she came up to the fire. She crouched down, head still tilting to one side, and Bradley was captivated by the sight of this beautiful woman bathed in the light of the fire in his home. Before he could react, she reached a hand out into the flame, letting out a startled, pained yelp as she retracted it. A whimper left her lips as Bradley rushed forward, kneeling in front of her and taking her hand in his.

“Why would you do that?” He asked, no real heat behind his tone as he inspected her fingertips. “Don’t you know it’s hot?”

Her fingertips were a little pink, but otherwise no real damage had been done. She stared at him with an unreadable expression, eyes still studying him. He hesitated for a moment before moving to stand, keeping her hand in his.

“I can show you to your room,” he told her, tugging on her hand lightly. Her eyes scanned him from head to foot and then back again before allowing him to pull her to her feet. The two padded down a small hallway before he pushed the door open to a bedroom that had long stood unoccupied. He tugged her inside, motioning for her to sit on the bed. She sat obediently, watching and waiting for him to make his next move.

“I’ll be right back,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as he exited the room. He made his way to the washroom, grabbing bandages, a cloth, a bowl, and a pitcher of water. He returned to the room quickly, finding that the woman had not moved an inch in the time he was gone. He sucked in a breath as their eyes once again met, wary meeting curious. He set the items on the bedside table as he gestured at her.

“You’ll need to take that off so I can see the wound,” he murmured, heat rising to his cheeks as he glanced at her uneasily. She paid no mind to his discomfort, easily shedding the coat and exposing her naked body to him as simply as if he had asked her to close the door. He cleared his throat, eyes darting down to look at the angry-looking gash on her side. The wound appeared to be superficial, but he couldn’t be sure until he cleaned it.

He turned to ready the cloth, keeping the bowl of water close so he could rinse if he needed to. Tentatively, he reached a hand up, running his fingers over the dried blood upon her skin, eyes darting up to search for any sign of distress. Her face remained impassive as she watched him, and Bradley’s jaw clenched as he began to wipe gently at the wound.

He had been correct in his initial assessment, the gash was more of a flesh wound and thankfully wouldn’t require stitching. He grabbed some of the salve he had brought in, applying a decent layer before wrapping a bandage around her midsection. Bradley tried not to think of how close he was to the woman, of how beautiful she was, especially when she seemed wholly unbothered by his presence.

“I, um,” he stuttered, cursing his nervousness, “I can bring you something to wear. I still have some of my ma’s things.”

He didn’t wait for her to answer, not that she would give him one if the last half hour had been any indication. He made his way down the hall to the door he had not opened in years, taking a deep breath to steady himself before pushing inside.

The room was just as his mother had left it all those years ago, the only thing having changed was the layer of dust that coated everything. Bradley moved quickly to the wardrobe on the far side of the room, opening it to reveal several different clothing options. He grabbed what he could carry, making sure to grab some of the sleeping garments before heading back down the hall. The woman sat unmoved once more as he appeared, draping the options on the chair to his left by the vanity.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d like,” he said lamely, gesturing towards the clothing, “so I grabbed what I thought might look nice.”

The woman’s gaze moved slowly to the clothing before she rose to her feet. She padded across the room, not a sound from her as she walked over towards where he stood. Her eyes darted up to his for a moment before back down to the clothes. Small hands reached out to pick up one of the nightgowns he had grabbed, eyes studying it with a frown. Her hands tightened on the fabric, a look of despair washing over her face and disappearing just as quickly before she slowly eased it over her head, letting it drape down her form. She reached her hands up to pull her long hair out of the confines, letting it run down her back as she stared up at him.

There was something inherently wild about her, something that sent Bradley’s heart racing as he looked at her standing there in the room. She looked so out of place but so at ease with her surroundings, and he could hardly stand it.

“My room is just down the hall,” he told her, shoulders pulling back a fraction as he regarded her. “If you need me, I’ll be there.”

He gathered the things he had brought in, moving to leave when she grabbed his shirt, stopping him. He glanced at her from over his shoulder, brow furrowed in confusion as he waited for her to speak.

“Do you hear them?” She asked, voice barely above a whisper. “They’re calling for me.”

Bradley listened in the silence that followed, and it was a second before he heard the quiet, distant barks of seals mixed with the keen of something he could not place - something not quite human, not quite animal. He looked at the woman, her eyes having grown distant once more as a tear slid down her face. Bradley sucked in a quick breath as a shudder ran up his spine.

“You should get some sleep,” he whispered, breaking the silence. “You seem like you’ve had a long day.”

The woman looked at him once more, sadness swelling within her eyes before she slowly nodded, letting him go. She turned towards the bed, padding silently across the room once more.

Bradley closed the door behind him as he left, hands shaking as he listened for the click of the latch before putting away the items in hand. He put out the fire, washing the room in darkness as he dragged a hand over his face. With a glance towards the hall, he crept towards the front door, opening it and shutting it behind him carefully as to not make a sound. The cries from before could be heard louder now, and Bradley thought his heart would burst from his chest from the unease that enveloped him.

The moon still shone bright, lighting his path down towards the dock and his boat. The waves lapped against the shore, the cries louder the closer he came. His boat knocked against the wooden stands of the dock with every crash of the waves, and sitting there, on top of the bench, lay the pelt.

Bradley’s heart quickened at the sight, a sense of dread filling him at what he might find once he inspected it. His boots clicked against the wood as he made his way down to the edge. He kneeled down, snatching the pelt from its perch and into his hands. It was soft, nearly dry. He ran his hands over it, inspecting it closely as he squinted in the dark.

He was lost in the sensation of the pelt, how smooth and soft it felt in his hands, and for a moment he allowed himself to close his eyes and compare it to how soft the woman’s skin had felt under his fingertips earlier. He was pulled from his thoughts as the soft fur transformed into a matted and cracked mess. His eyes flew open, breath catching in his throat as he took in the bloodied tear down the side of the pelt.

Right where the gash on the woman was.

There was no denying it in his mind now. The woman in his home was one of the Sidhe - a selkie.

The cries grew louder, and Bradley’s head whipped up to stare out into the water. He couldn’t see them, but knew they were out there, searching for a sister that was lost to them. His grip on the pelt tightened, and his heartbeat thundered in his ears. He scrambled back to his feet, boots stomping against the wood and then the ground as he ran back to the house. His mind raced with thought after thought as his lungs burned from lack of oxygen. His hand reached out to open the door, but he stopped short, fingers hovering over the knob.

The cries off in the distance sounded as he stared at his front door before looking down at the pelt in hand. He could return it to the woman, let her return back to the sea she called home. But a more sinister thought crossed his mind. Why should he give it back? The woman was safe with him, after all. He could protect her from those that wished to hunt her, keep her warm and fed like a man should. He could love her, give her a life beyond what the sea had to offer. The memory of her skin under his fingertips once again rushed to the forefront of his mind, and he allowed his hand to drop back to his side. Yes, he would keep the pelt. Keep it hidden away where she nor anyone else would ever find it.

He turned on his heel, running towards the small shack just a few yards away from the house, ripping the door open and stepping inside. The structure held mostly items necessary for fishing and repairing his boat, but an old trunk sat in the back, practically hidden by various tarps and other objects. The cries of the other selkies grew louder, almost like they could sense the pelt in his hands and were coming to find it.

Bradley pulled the trunk out into the open, moving to the workbench and grabbing one of the keys that sat in the top drawer. He kneeled down in front of the trunk, unlocking it and opening the lid with a quiet creak. Inside lay old photos and trinkets that his father and mother had collected over their years together. He pulled a few items out before placing the pelt gently into the trunk, covering it back up with the aforementioned items.

He closed the lid, locking it. The wailing cries coming to an abrupt and sudden stop as he did so. He stayed there for a moment, the only sound to be heard being his heavy breathing and the waves crashing against the shore below. Slowly, he moved to stand, shoving the trunk back where he found it and hiding it away once more. No one would think to look in there. No one would know what he kept hidden. He tossed the key back into the top drawer, stepping out of the shack and back into the night.

The air was still around him, eerily so, and Bradley made his way quickly back to the house. His fingers were numb, whether it be from cold or nerves he wasn’t sure, but the tension didn’t ease as he closed the front door quietly behind him, his back pressed against it for a moment as he listened for any sound that the woman might have heard him. Hearing nothing, he toed his boots off, setting them by the door before making his way quietly towards his room, noting that no light shone under the woman’s door. He changed quickly for bed, crawling under the blankets as if they might shield him from the consequences of his actions that evening. He took a few calm, steadying breaths before closing his eyes.

Sleep did not come easy to him that night.

The first morning had been awkward, Bradley rising with the dawn to find the woman already sitting at the dining table, fingers fidgeting with the sleeves of the nightgown. Her eyes darted up to meet his as he entered the room, stopping short at the sight of her.

“You’re awake,” he murmured, shock clear in his voice as they stared at one another. She blinked at him, saying nothing. She seemed perkier this morning, albeit still cautious as she watched him walk further into the room. Bradley grabbed the box of matches from the shelf, taking one out and striking it with a pop. The woman jumped at the sound, eyes flickering to the watch as he leaned down to light the stove, shaking the match out once he was done.

“What is that?” She asked, and Bradley turned to look at her in surprise.

“What is what?”

“The colors,” she supplied, nodding at the burnt match in his hand. She pointed towards the fireplace. “They were in the cave over there last night as well.”

Bradley’s gaze flickered over to where she pointed before landing back on her.

“It’s called fire,” he started slowly, a frown tugging on his lips. “I use it to cook things and keep the house warm.”

“Fire,” she repeated, testing the word out on her lips. “It hurts.”

“It can,” Bradley agreed, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “You shouldn’t touch it.”

She nodded solemnly, clasping her hands out in front of her. She watched as he began to prepare breakfast, turning on the toaster and slicing up the fish to cook in the pan.

“I like those.”

Bradley turned back around to find the woman sitting with most of her torso on top of the table, her legs stretched to accommodate her. Eyes shone with delight at the sight of the fish, and Bradley arched a brow at her.

“Yeah?” He hummed. She nodded enthusiastically, tongue darting out to lick at her lips.

“There’s lots of them,” she told him. “They swim in groups and they’re easy to catch. The fishermen catch them using nets.”

“They do,” Bradley nodded, laying a strip of the mackerel down in the pan. It began to sizzle, and he was struck with how hungry he truly was.

“What are you doing?”

He jumped, turning to look where the woman now stood, eyes wide as she watched the fish cook down. He stared at her for a moment before turning his attention back to the fish, flipping it over before it burned.

“I’m cooking,” he told her. The woman leaned forward, sniffing at the food before wrinkling her nose.

“It smells weird,” she muttered, and Bradley laughed.

“It smells fine,” he smiled, sliding the fish onto one of the plates on the counter. “You’ve just never had it cooked, I’ll bet.”

He ushered her back towards the table, setting the plate down at the spot she just occupied and handing her a fork. He turned back towards the stove, laying another slice of the fish down as the woman took a tentative bite. Chewing slowly, she perked up as the taste rushed over her, shoveling more into her mouth with a satisfied purr. Bradley soon joined her, chuckling as he watched her. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so light, the last time he laughed so freely.

“You should slow down,” he smirked, taking a bite from his own plate. “You don’t want to choke.”

She peered up at him, pausing in her feast as she considered his words. She cocked her head to the side in that curious way before taking a slower bite, looking up at him for approval. The two ate in silence for a few moments before Bradley cleared his throat, drawing her attention.

“My name is Bradley,” he said, glancing up at her as he swallowed a mouthful of fish.

“Bradley.”

“What should I call you?” He asked, and she frowned in confusion.

“What do you want to call me?” She asked him.

“Don’t you have a name?” He chuckled, disbelief coloring his voice. Surely even the fair folk had names to give. Her face drew tight in sorrow once more, and Bradley felt a twinge of pain in his chest at the sight. Her gaze slowly turned towards the window where the sea lay just out of sight.

“Only the water knows my name,” she told him, grip loosening on her fork as it clattered against the plate. “Only it can say it.”

Bradley watched her. Watched how her breathing grew ragged. Watched how her eyes glistened with unshed tears for a home she would not return to. Her lips trembled, and Bradley cleared his throat.

“I need to head into town,” he said. “Need to see a man about a job. Do you want to come with me?”

She turned to look at him, eyes still hazy from wherever she had let herself wander. She blinked once, twice.

“I suppose,” she whispered finally. Bradley nodded, clearing the plates from the table.

“You’ll need to change,” he told her. “You can’t go out wearing that.”

She looked down at her nightgown with a frown before looking back up at him.

“It’s, uh,” he stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not appropriate for others to see you dressed like that.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Just,” he blew out a breath, “please pick a different dress?”

She gave him a sour look before standing and disappearing down the hall. Bradley blew out a breath before moving to clean the kitchen area. The woman reappeared, wearing a simple, blue dress. Bradley nodded in approval before his eyes landed on her bare feet.

“Stay here,” he told her, walking down the hall to the far bedroom. He walked in, straight up to the wardrobe and began rummaging through until he found a pair of his mother’s old shoes. He reappeared in the kitchen, handing the woman the shoes with a shy smile.

“I don’t know how well they’ll fit,” he started, “but they should work until we get you some new ones.”

She eyed them distastefully, nose wrinkled in disgust.

“I don’t want them,” she said finally, moving to hand them back to Bradley. He shook his head.

“You need them. They’ll protect your feet, and people will expect you to wear them.”

She scowled, pushing them forward once more, but Bradley stopped her.

“Please, mo chroi,” he pleaded. “Just while we’re in town. You can take them off as soon as we’re home.”

Her gaze softened at the endearment, and reluctantly, she shoved her feet into them. He helped her lace them, calloused fingers making nimble work of them, and soon they were ready to go. He grabbed a thin jacket for himself while he made sure to hand her the heavy coat to combat the frigid air outside. The walk to town took about an hour, and the weather was sure to still be cold and damp as it often was during the time between spring and winter.

Bradley turned to her, a thin-lipped smile on his face as his hand rested on the door. He gave her a once over.

She looked like any other person upon first glance, but if you stared too long, something wild shone on her person that drew you in. Like it would suffocate you if you stared too long. He sucked in a breath, torn between keeping her in his sight and making her stay. If she came, the townsfolk would surely be able to guess that she was not a mere human girl, but if she stayed? If she stayed, she might find the one thing he hoped she never would.

“Alright,” he breathed. “Let’s go.”

Weeks had passed, and the two had developed a routine of sorts. Bradley had started work as the lighthouse keeper, walking every day down the path along the cliffs to clean and polish the light that guided ships to shore. When he finished, he began work on the nets for when he ventured out into the sea to catch fish. It was a steady source of food, and food was not something Bradley took lightly. Memories of what it felt like to go hungry when there was so little to go around, fueled his drive to ensure there was enough, always enough and plenty to spare. He showed mo chroi how to prepare and salt the fish they couldn’t eat, showing her how to store it for future meals.

She was a quick learner, performing the tasks diligently as the days passed, and soon she took over most of the household chores. The widow Callahan checked in on them from time to time, her wise eyes studying the new woman of the house every time she came by.

“Be careful, young man,” she’d always say, dark eyes narrowed up at him. “You may have tamed her now, but the fair folk were not meant for gilded cages. Don’t give her what you cannot spare.”

Bradley would assure her that he wouldn’t, but in truth, he had no idea what she was telling him. He was content with how things were, content to have a partner by his side to help with the work he had done by himself for years. He still caught her staring longingly out at the waters she once called home, but the longing looks grew farther and farther apart the longer she stayed with him, resigning herself to her new life on land.

He was mending a tear in one of the nets when she appeared beside him, silent as always. He was used to it now, no longer startling every time she appeared around him without a sound. He became attuned to her presence, sensing when she came and when she left.

She said nothing to him at first, content to watch him as he worked, and he was content to keep working. It wasn’t until she kneeled beside him, gentle hand placed on top of his arm that he stopped.

“What is it, mo chroi?” He asked, gazing up at her. The sun was sinking towards the horizon, casting a faint golden glow onto the summer evening. Bradley couldn’t help but to admire her beauty in the dimming light, eyes glittering and skin smooth as porcelain as they looked at him. She wore only a white chemise, something she was prone to do when it was just the two of them. She didn’t like the heavy, scratchy feel of the dresses, only wearing them when there was company or when the two ventured into town. Bradley complied with her whims, finding it hard to say no to her.

“Why do you not have a woman?”

The question caught him off guard, eyes widening as his jaw went slack.

“What?” He blinked, scrambling to make sense of her question. She hummed, pressing closer to him. Bradley found it hard to think with the feel of her soft, warm body so close to his, one hand tracing over the planes of his chest as she continued.

“The men in the village,” she pressed, eyes never wavering as they bore into his own, almost hypnotic in the way they captured him, “they all have a woman to keep them company, to hold them, to love them. But you do not.”

Bradley’s eyes darted back and forth between her own, words failing him. She lifted a leg, resting it in between his own as she straddled his thigh. The hand that rested on his arm trailed up to play with the curls at the base of his skull, her body flush with his now as his hands came up to rest on her thighs. The hem of her chemise rode up to reveal smooth thighs that had Bradley reeling with lust. She leaned forward, a purr on her lips as she trailed her nose along his jaw and up to his ear.

“Is it me?” She asked softly, hand splayed on his chest as her lips brushed along the shell of his ear. A shudder ran up along Bradley’s spine at the sensation, mind growing hazy and clouded with lust for the creature before him.

“Am I yours?” She breathed, meeting his eyes once more. The air between them was charged, and for a moment Bradley could think of nothing but the way she felt against him. The way her lips hovered over his.

He lunged forward, pulling her impossibly closer as their lips melded against one another. He was spellbound, captivated, obsessed. His hands tightened on her thighs, and she sighed against his mouth, spurring him on to nip at her bottom lip. She granted him entrance, gasping as he licked hungrily into her mouth, the sweet taste of her driving him mad as a hand slid up to press against her lower back.

She wasted no time lifting herself off of him long enough to free him from the confines of his trousers, small hands gripping his hardening length. He let out a pleasured groan, head tilting back as she stroked him slowly before positioning herself atop him. There was no buildup between them, Bradley gripping at her as she slowly eased herself down onto him. A keen left her lips as he stretched her, mind numbing pleasure coursing through his veins as her velvety walls fluttered around him.

Her eyes were closed tight as she rested on top of him, her hips flush against his as her hands rested on his chest for balance. Bradley had never seen a more beautiful sight. Slowly, she rolled her hips against his, breathing ragged as she built a rhythm. Bradley laid against the wood of the dock as he watched her take her pleasure from him, a hand running up her stomach to rest between her breasts. He could die a happy man right then and there.

Her pace grew faster as she approached her climax, whimpers and cries spilling past her lips as she rode him, and Bradley pushed himself into a sitting position, careful to not disturb her. A hand rested on her back as he nuzzled into the space between her breasts where his other hand had just been. The sleeve of her chemise fell off her shoulder, and Bradley lifted his face to nip and lick at the skin there. He could feel his own high approaching as she ground down on him, and his free hand rose up to wrap around her throat, squeezing gently. She froze, hips stopping as they locked eyes. The only sound to be heard between the two of them was their ragged breathing.

For a second, Bradley thought he had crossed the line, but she made no move to remove his hand. The two stared at one another for a long moment before one of her hands came up to rest atop his own, squeezing them lightly as she began to move her hips once more, slower this time, drawing out the inevitable. He groaned at the sensation, feeling his stomach tense as her eyes never left his, her gaze intense as she chased release. Her walls fluttered and tightened around him, and with a final cry, she came, her head thrown back and her hot, wet cunt milking his own orgasm out of him with a shout. His spend coated her walls, leaking out around him as he shuddered and fell back against the dock with eyes pinched closed. Her hips still moved against his, drawing out every ounce of pleasure she could, giving herself to him with every movement.

She was his now, he had marked her.

Her hips finally stilled against his, and he could feel her staring at him. Her fingers trailed up his chest, along his jaw, before finally stilling on his lips. Bradley peeled his eyes open slowly, and he would have sworn he had died and gone to heaven for if he didn’t know any better, he would have thought he was looking at an angel. The setting sun cast a halo around her head as her hair blew in the wind, hypnotic eyes boring into him as the golden glow of the evening enveloped her. His lover smiled down at him softly, fingertips stroking his lips before leaning down to press her own against them.

She didn’t look to the sea much anymore, her longing gazes turned to brief flickers as she went about her days. Still, there were nights when her eyes would glaze over as the sound of seals calling out in the night made their way up to the confines of the house. Bradley would watch as her lips trembled briefly, the look in her eyes growing farther away until suddenly she would snap back to the moment, offering him a loving smile as she continued her mending.

Her stomach began to swell in the autumn months, and Bradley often found himself reluctant to leave her side. He would place a hand on her stomach, eyes lighting up in delight every time he felt a kick to it. He’d rest his head on top of her, muttering sweet words and promises to the babe that grew within. She would rest her hand on his head, stroking his hair soothingly as the fire crackled in front of them.

They were happy.

There was one night, however, when Bradley came back from the village to find his wife no longer at home, and panic overtook him. He tore through the house, ripping open every door he could find until he was faced with a horrifying possibility. He ran outside to the old shack, nearly ripping the door off of its hinges in his haste to open it. His eyes scanned the dark interior, his lantern casting shadows across the walls as he sighed in relief at the realization that his secret was still hidden underneath tarps and old traps.

His brow furrowed as he stepped back out onto the open cliffs, the wind whipping around him as he scanned the dancing grass. His eyes stopped at the edge of the cliff, terror gripping him once more at the thought that his lover might have done the unthinkable. Had she tried to return to the depths from where she came? Her body would not survive the plunge, not without the skin that lay hidden in shadows. He trudged towards the edge of the cliffs, the wind biting his skin and seeping to his bones as his heart thundered in his ears. He peered down at the rocks below, stopping only when a song sounded on the wind.

Little sister, sister hu ru

My love, my sister hu ru

Can you not pity o hol ill eo

My grief tonight hu ru

The voice was beautiful and full of sorrow, cries carried on the wind and out to the sea. Bradley swung the lantern towards the rocky path that led up to the lighthouse, the moon casting ribbons of silver that silhouetted the tall structure.

I am a poor woman hu ru

Sad and miserable hu ru

I climbed up o hol ill eo

Ben Sgrìobain hu ru

Bradley moved quickly through the grass and up the path, the sound of the song growing louder with each step he took. The stone structure stood proud against the backdrop of the sea, the waves crashing against the rocks below, almost drowning out the song as he rounded the walkway, finding his wife standing on the edge of the cliff.

I didn’t find there hu ru

What I wanted hu ru

A girl o hol ill eo

With hair like a daisy hu ru

Tears streamed down her face as he watched her, her hair whipping in the wind as her hands cradled her heavily swollen belly. Her feet were bare, and she wore a thin chemise that did little to protect her from the gusts that enveloped her body. No sobs left her as she finished her song, only the look of someone who had been lost, lost and never found in a world that was not her own. Bradley sucked in a breath, lips pressing firmly together before he stomped towards her. He dropped the lantern at his feet, the flame within dying at the impact as he gripped her shoulders and whirled her around to face him. Her eyes grew wide as his rage flooded to the surface, nostrils flaring and fingers digging into her skin hard enough to leave bruises.

“What were you thinking?” He hissed, shaking her with every accusation. “You scared me half to death! What are you doing out here dressed like this? It’s too cold for you to be out here with nothing to protect you. I thought you had-”

He gestured towards the cliffs, the words dying on his lips as he choked on a sob. The tears sprang to his eyes unexpectedly, rolling down his cheeks as his hands gripped onto her even tighter. If he held on tighter, she would never leave, would never return to the sea, would never leave him. He couldn’t bear the thought of being alone again, not when he had tasted a life that was shared.

She stared at him, eyes wide and searching as the wind danced around them. Her hand slowly reached up to cup his jaw, thumb smoothing over the stubble that grew there.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, voice almost lost on the wind. She leaned forward, and Bradley lurched back, eyes wide and scared as they watched her. The two stayed like that for a moment before she moved once more, hand holding his face in place as she brushed his nose with hers before pressing her lips to his in a gentle kiss. Tears continued to stream down Bradley’s face as his eyes flickered closed, embracing her as different emotions swirled inside him.

“Never leave me,” he begged in a whisper against her, one hand dropping down to cup her stomach as he rested his forehead against hers. He opened his eyes to find her already looking at him, black water dancing in her gaze.

“Never, mo ghrá.”

Their son was born a month later, loud cries spilling into the night as Bradley waited outside with some of the older men from the village. His head perked up at the first wail, eyes shining with excitement as her screams were replaced by those of the infant. The widow Callahan opened the front door moments later, apron covered in blood as she wiped her hands on a rag.

“You have a son,” she announced with a small smile, and Bradley grinned so hard, he swore his face would split in two. The men around him clasped him on the back, cheers ringing out in the night as they opened up spirits brought with them for the occasion. Bradley was keen to see his wife and son, but one of the men shoved a mug into his hands.

“Have a drink first, lad,” he hollered with a laugh. “The misses and the wean will still be there after.”

Bradley downed the drink as quickly as he could, much to the amusement of the others. He shoved the cup into the hands of the man nearest to him, not waiting for it to be refilled as he made his way into the house. The widow Callahan was cleaning up her supplies along with her apprentice when Bradley entered the room. His wife lay propped up in the bed, a small smile on her face as she cooed at the small bundle in her arms. Her eyes flickered up to his for a moment before back down. He crossed the room, easing down gently beside her on the bed. The babe gurgled, eyes closed as he yawned, and Bradley felt his heart swell.

He reached a hand over to run a finger over his son’s hands, heart dancing in his chest when the babe gripped it, small hand so strong for someone who was only moments old.

“What should we call him?” Bradley asked, cuddling into her side, exhaustion seeping through her.

“I thought we might call him Ronan.”

Bradley paused. The meaning of the name was not lost on him, and his gaze flickered to her profile for a moment before nodding.

“Ronan,” he murmured, eyes turning back to his son, nodding. “Aye. I like it. Ronan it is then.”

The babe gurgled once more, and Bradley reached over to take him in his arms, cooing softly as the bundle fussed.

“We should let your mother rest,” He whispered to the baby, a small smile on his wife’s lips as she nestled into the inviting warmth of the bed, her eyes drooping as she fought to remain awake. “She’s had a long day, don’t you think? It’s not easy bringing someone into the world.”

He tore his eyes away from his son to gaze at her, adoration shining bright as he reached a hand to smooth the hair out of her face.

“We’ll be here when you wake up,” he promised, bouncing the baby lightly as he moved to stand, his eyes already fixated back on the bundle in his arms. Her eyes followed him as he walked towards the door, lips curled into a smile as she slipped further and further into oblivion.

Bradley offered her one last smile as she fell asleep, walking towards the main room and sitting down by the fireplace, the orange glow of the fire bathing the two in the warm light. The men outside still celebrated, and Bradley rolled his eyes, smiling down at his son.

“I wanted to talk to you, man to man,” he started, rocking the baby in his arms. “I can’t guarantee you an easy life, Ronan. In fact, it might be a hard one. What I can promise is that I’ll be by your side as only a father can be for his son.”

Ronan cooed, opening his eyes for the first time to look up at his father, and Bradley’s heart soared.

“You’re born from two worlds, you know,” Bradley continued, a small frown tugging on his lips as he considered what this would mean. “A living bridge between the seen and unseen, but what does that mean for you, I wonder.”

The fire popped as it consumed the wood, the crackling the only thing heard besides the faint sound of Ronan breathing. The men had left to continue their drinking in the village, and soon even the widow Callahan and her apprentice left, bidding him a good night as they did. Bradley said nothing to them in response, eyes trained on the baby in his arms even as the sun rose above the horizon.

Ronan grew quickly, much to Bradley’s surprise, and soon he was toddling around and talking, a smart lad whom Bradley found he never had to instruct more than once, eager to take on the responsibility of being the eldest. Two years after he was born, another bundle joined their home, a boy they named Rían who grew to fill the house with peels of laughter everywhere he went. His wife showed no more signs of longing for the sea, too enamored with her children to pay much mind to the sea which she once called home.

Three years after Rían was born, they welcomed Cillian into their fold, a quiet babe who grew into a curious and bright little boy. Bradley was happy with his life and even prouder of his family. He soon began teaching Ronan how to weave nets for fish and how to fix the traps they used to catch the migrating salmon, and it wasn’t long until Rían joined them. Cillian was too young, staying behind with his mother as the other three made their way out to sea to bring home food for the next day.

Their evenings were spent sitting by the fire, the boys playing with their toy soldiers as their mother worked on her mending, Bradley resting from a hard day’s work as he smoked a pipe, a habit he had picked up to help ease the tension he often felt these days as he grew older. It was on one such evening that Cillian pulled on the skirt of his mother’s dress, eyes so much like hers as they gazed up in curiosity.

“Ma,” he chirped, earning her attention. She smiled down at him, setting down her latest project to give him her full attention.

“What is it, mo mhuirnín?” She asked.

“The people in town say you’re not from here,” he continued, earning the attention of the two other boys and Bradley as well. “If you aren’t from here, then where do you come from?”

The silence was heavy in the room, not a soul moving as the words hung in the air. His mother’s eyes glazed over slowly as she thought about the home she left behind so many years ago. A look Bradley had not seen since before their first son was born made its way onto her face, and his heart began to thunder in his chest. Time seemed to stand still as she considered her words.

“Between the here, between the now. Between the day, between the night. Between the land, between the sea. Between the awake, between the asleep. Between the real, between the myths. That is where I am from,” she told him, a hand coming up to cup his chin gently. In that moment, Bradley remembered the wild that dwelled within his wife, the constant call from within to return back to the sea. He remembered that while he grew older, she remained forever the same, never changing. He remembered the fear that gripped him each night at the thought that she might leave, and rage filled him.

“Enough,” he snapped, drawing all four pairs of eyes to him. Bradley was a kind, easygoing man, not prone to anger, and the sight of him now shocked his children, fear flashing in their eyes at the look of anger that clung to his face.

“I won’t hear another word,” he hissed, grip tight on the pipe in hand. He gestured wildly at his children as they sat, paralyzed with fear. “To bed, all of you!”

They did not need to be told twice, scrambling to their feet as they hurried down the hall, the sounds of doors shutting behind them. Regret filled Bradley almost instantly, but it was not enough to quell the fear that still raged on inside of him. His eyes watched the hall before sliding over to look at his wife. Her head was bowed submissively, an impassive look on her face as she continued her mending, and Bradley settled back into his chair, an air of unease settling in around him.

It was a few weeks later when Bradley had taken the two older boys off that his world turned upside down.

Cillian was a curious boy, too curious for his own good, one might say. He loved to experience the world around him and oftentimes found himself in more trouble than he could handle. His father had warned him to stay away from the old shack that stood by the cliff, telling him that there were things in there that could hurt him if he wasn’t careful. Cillian heeded the warning, but grew more and more curious the longer it remained unexplored. It was for that reason he found himself opening the door, the creeks of the old hinges causing him to turn around to make sure he wasn’t heard. Confident that his actions still remained a secret, he crept into the dark shack, eyes wide as he took in the different trinkets strewn about.

It was nothing of import, mostly old tarps and broken traps his father had not seen fit to fix yet. An old desk sat against the far wall, and as Cillian crept farther and farther into the room, he noticed how more and more things lay stacked atop one another, as if trying to convince him to turn back. There was something that called out to him though, and the need to find what it was became stronger with each passing second. The pull pulsed around him, almost like a heartbeat as he inched closer and closer to the far side of the shack. It wasn’t until he came upon an old chest that the energy suddenly calmed, almost like it disappeared and Cillian reached out his little hands to try and pry the lid open. It did not budge, locked so that prying eyes would not find what was not theirs to seek.

Surely there must be a key? His eyes scanned the area around him, frowning when one couldn’t be found. His gaze landed upon the desk, and he stumbled over the items strewn about as he made a beeline for the lone piece of furniture. His hand reached up to drag the top drawer open, little legs stretching as far as they could to allow him to look inside. There were several keys that lay on the bottom of the drawer, but only one was carved ornately enough to match the old chest. Grinning at his prize, he seized it in his little fist, scrambling back over to the chest.

He let out a giggle as the key slipped easily into the lock, twisting it until a click could be heard. Looking behind him to make sure he was still alone, he lifted the lid of the trunk slowly. He vibrated with excitement at the thought of the treasures he might find, only to be met with the sight of trinkets tossed haphazardly inside. He reached a hand in to rummage through the piles of junk, frowning at the piles of nothing. He was about to close the lid once more when his fingers brushed against something soft, and his breath caught in his throat. He gave it a tug, but the object did not move. Huffing, he wrapped both hands around the object, grunting as he tugged it free from the confines of the trunk. He fell back with the force, landing against an old crate with a thud and a shout. He scowled at the crate, rubbing his backside before turning his attention to the prize at hand.

It was a seal pelt, the silver reminding him of the moonlight that danced through his window at night, the same beams that glittered atop the water of the sea. His hands ran over it, delighting in how soft it felt against his skin, and with a grin, he wrapped it up in his arms and ran out of the shack into the late afternoon sun.

His mother was hanging laundry out to dry, the sheets billowing in the wind as she pushed hair out of her face. Her stomach was swelling once more, just enough to be noticeable through her dress.

“Ma!” He cried out, running to her quick as his little feet could carry him. “Look what I found!”

She smiled down at him, gaze adoring before landing on the item in his hands. Her smile faded, the faraway look from that terrible night when his father had lost his temper returning to her face as she beheld the pelt in his hands.

Bradley and his sons walked up the path, smiling amongst each other as they hurried home, eager to be reunited with their mother and brother. Bradley’s eyes darted up the path, itching for a glimpse of his wife when his eyes landed on the scene unfurling before them. Her hands reached out to the pelt his youngest son held up to her, and his stomach dropped as he blanched.

“No!” He shouted, breaking out into a sprint up the path, but it was too late. Her fingers wrapped around the pelt, and something awakened inside of her, something long thought dead. A grin stretched across her face as she snatched the skin into her arms, letting out a delighted cry as she ran down the path, narrowly avoiding her husband’s arms and past her children. Bradley stopped short, turning on his heels to chase after her, legs pushing as hard as they could in a desperate attempt to catch her, hand reaching out to grab her. He was so close, fingers brushing the ends of her hair, but the call of her nature was stronger than any love he carried for her. She threw the pelt around her shoulders, a laugh leaving her as her feet touched the water, and with a leap into the air, the woman was once more a seal, landing in the water with a quiet plop. Bradley continued after her, feet pushing through the resistance of the sea as he clawed his way forward.

“Come back,” he cried, water up to his waist now. “Come back!”

It was no use, his wife was gone, stolen back by the sea, and tears streamed down his face as he scanned the surface for any sign of her. The water was oddly calm given how frantic he had become, and the despair inside him rose to a fever pitch, released in a guttural cry as he unleashed his anguish for the sea to hear.

“You promised!” He screamed, throat strained with the force of it. He let his face drop into his hands, clawing at the skin of his face as his eyes darted wildly all around like he was a man possessed. Sobs wracked through his body as the reality of what happened settled over him.

“Come back.”

Bradley was not the man he once was, and he would never be again. The house felt cold and empty with his wife gone, and he could not find it in him to do much of anything. Numbness filled his bones, the sorrow of losing that which he loved too much for his mind to bear. Most days were spent along the shore, desperate eyes searching for any sign of his wife before one of his children was able to coax him back to the house, usually well after the sun had disappeared below the horizon.

He didn’t eat much, sullen gaze turned down towards his plate, but never eating more than a mouthful or two of whatever was placed in front of him. His face grew gaunt as the weeks turned to months, dark circles growing under his eyes.

A house that was once filled with laughter now served as a tomb, the once happy memories enshrined within its four walls. The children no longer laughed, no longer played. The love of their mother was no longer there to keep them warm. Few words were uttered amongst each other, and no one was quite able to meet the eyes of another.

Utensils scraped against each other, not a word spoken as all eyes remained cast downward.

“I saw a seal today,” Rían whispered, jumping as the sound of metal dropped against a plate. Bradley’s eyes bored into his son, a haunted look on his face as he turned to him.

“What did you say?” He asked, leaning forward, tears gathering in his eyes. Rían stared at his father before casting a nervous glance to Ronan. Bradley pushed out of his chair, kneeling in front of his son as his hand gripped his shoulders painfully. Rían whimpered, trying to get out of his father’s grasp.

“Where did you see it?” Bradley rasped, voice croaking from under use. His nails dug into the boy’s skin, a pained cry spilling out of Rían’s lips. Ronan scrambled up out of his seat, hand wrapping around his father’s arms to try and pull him away from his brother.

“Tell me where you saw it!” Bradley shouted, shaking the boy roughly, eyes wild and unseeing.

“Da please!” Ronan hollered, pulling with all his might, and Bradley’s grip loosened, sending Rían flying back into his chair with a cry. Tears streamed down his face as he stared at his father, limbs trembling from fear. Bradley’s eyes focused, seeing his son for the first time in that moment.

“Rían,” he whispered, eyes darting around to look at the other two. Cillian sat on the opposite side of Rían, tears streaming down his own face as his bottom lip trembled in terror. Ronan stood behind him, face unreadable as stone as he watched his father.

“I’m,” Bradley breathed, stumbling to his feet as he ran a hand through his hair. “I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t wait for a response, exiting the room in a hurry.

The next day had them returning to their new normal. Ronan took charge of the fishing, bringing home what he could, which was just enough to keep everyone fed. Rían had taken up the housework in the absence of their mother, Cillian helping where he could at his young age.

Bradley’s days were spent at the shore, watching and waiting for a love that would never return to him. His thoughts often turned to the happier memories, of days spent in her embrace, the feel of her lips against his, the way she smiled at him. He longed for it. Longed for the time when he didn’t feel so alone, so listless.

The children had changed in the months since their mother left as well.

Ronan had taken up the mantle of provider, taking what he could to the village to barter and trade, but few would do dealings with someone who was not wholly human, mistrustful eyes that had once been focused on his mother now turned to him with disdain.

Rían’s once bright laughter was now nothing but a memory, something thought about only in passing now as he worked his way through the chores that needed doing. He slowly forgot how it felt to smile.

Cillian, who had once been the most inquisitive of the bunch, now never strayed far from his brothers, never moving far from sight. He did only as he was told, and his brothers started to wonder if he ever used to talk at all.

Much like every other night, it was Ronan who bade his father to return to the house once the sun set, frost hanging in the air now that winter was upon them. Bradley allowed himself to be pulled back to their home, head hung low as he trudged up the path behind his son. He sat in his chair by the fire, hand stretched out to hold someone who was not there as he stared into the flames, eyes unseeing, and his children wondered if they would forever see the unseen.

One by one, the boys left for bed, Ronan being the last to bid his father a goodnight, a frown tugging on his lips before shaking his head and disappearing around the corner.

Bradley sat motionless as the minutes turned to hours, still as a statue as he continued to mourn.

A knock sounded at the door, and he shifted in his seat. Another knock had his head turning in that direction. Who would be calling at that time of night? Slowly, he rose from his chair, walking towards the front door. He grasped the handle, twisting it and pulling it open.

The night was dark, the moon, which normally cast light onto the path that led down to the beach, was hidden behind the clouds. Bradley stared into the night, unfeeling and unmoving. He moved to close the door when a song rang out, the voice so alarmingly familiar.

Hò i hò i hì o hò i Hò i hò i hì o hì Hò i hò i hì o hò i Cha robh mi m' ònar a-raoir

'S mairg san tìr seo, 's mairg san tìr 'G ithe dhaoine 'n riochd a bhìdh Nach fhaic sibh ceannard an t-sluaigh Goil air teine gu cruaidh cruinn

His eyes alighted in recognition, tearing out of the house and onto the path as fast as his feet could carry him. The voice grew no closer as he ran, breaths coming out ragged as he gulped for air. The waves crashed against the shoreline as loud as thunder but never drowning out the voice he had longed to hear.

Hò i hò i hì o hò i Hò i hò i hì o hì Hò i hò i hì o hò i Cha robh mi m' ònar a-raoir

'S mise nighean Aoidh mhic Eòghainn Gum b' eòlach mi mu na sgeirean Gur mairg a dhèanadh mo bhualadh Bean uasal mi o thìr eile

He stopped, spinning wildly in search of her, crying out in frustration when he saw no one. A scream ripped its way through him, desperate and haggard as he continued to spin, only stopping when he caught sight of something on the dock. The same dock he and his lover had spent countless afternoons on, basking in the glow of each other and sharing stolen touches. He walked slowly towards it, boots crunching in the sand and then knocking against the wood as he came to the end of the dock. His eyes glistened with unshed tears as he kneeled down beside the small bundle.

Hò i hò i hì o hò i Hò i hò i hì o hì Hò i hò i hì o hò i Cha robh mi m' ònar a-raoir

Thig an smeòrach, thig an druid Thig gach eun a dh'ionnsaigh nid Thig am bradan thar a' chuain Gu Là Luain cha ghluaisear mis'

His hands reached out, stopping when the bundle moved, a gurgle sounding. His heart skipped a beat, the cold seeping through him in the winter’s night. It was then that the clouds moved, allowing the moon to shed light down on where Bradley crouched.

It was often said that Cillian was the son that bore the largest resemblance to his mother, but gazing at the babe in front of him, Bradley knew that this was the child his wife carried before she left. His hands crossed the distance to pick her up, hands gentle as he cooed down at her. He was struck then by the discovery that she was wrapped in silvery grey fur, the same size as a seal pup.

The baby let out a tiny cry, and Bradley shushed her softly, rocking her gently. He and his wife had discussed different names before that fateful day, but only one stuck out to him as he gazed at the babe in his arms.

“Aisling,” he whispered reverently, holding her tighter to his chest as tears streamed down his face. Aisling let out another cry as Bradley moved to stand, never taking his eyes off of her.

“‘s alright now,” he cooed, turning back towards the house. “Your da is here now, mo stóirín.”

His fingers wrapped around the fur with a frown. The small bundle in his arms would never leave him, not like her mother had. He would see to it this time.

Hò i hò i hì o hò i Hò i hò i hì o hì Hò i hò i hì o hò i Cha robh mi m' ònar a-raoir

A/N: I kid y'all not, this fic has been on my mind for MONTHS ever since someone suggested it. Selkies have always been one of my favorite stories from Celtic legends, and I really hope I did this justice because it was such a pleasure to write and pour my heart and soul into. I highly recommend you check out the stories if you have time because a lot of the inspiration for this fic came from them!

Another quick note as I wrap up here, I wanted to touch on the meaning of the names I chose. Ronan actually translates to "seal" or "oath, promise." Rían (pronounced Ree-on) means "king" or "ocean" depending on the etymology. Cillian (pronounced kill-ian) means "war, strife." Finally, Aisling (pronounced Ash-ling) means "dream, vision."

The first song I actually looked up the English translation, but it's a song sung by a woman who was stolen by the fae, calling out for her sister to come and help her. I thought it would be interesting to see it used in the reverse. The second song is actually one said to be sung by the selkies themselves, very fitting for this fic, I think.

Thank you all so much for reading this one! As always, reblogs and comments are appreciated. You can also find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator. Until next time!

#amhran na farraige #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfiction #rooster top gun #top gun rooster

242 notes · View notes