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kim-monsterlings · 4 years

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Edel - M Nokken x F Human (Reader) // NSFW

The pictures do not belong to me. I only created the mood board, with a thank you to @handy-dandy-monster-candy for helping edit the photos! Do not repost my work anywhere.

Content: NSFW/Lemon; mentions of moving home, selkie friend, light flirting, gifted flowers, bakery treats, slight angst, flirting with fae, kissing, receiving oral, penetrative sex (+ mention of protection), with a fluffy ending

Wordcount: 4302

Faebruary Summary: of your new neighbour and struggling to befriend him

Masterlist // Faebruary Masterlist

No more than twice before moving in had you met your soon-to-be neighbour. On both occasions – the first a tour of the cosy, ground floor apartment, and the second on the day of finalising the lease - he greeted you with the gentlest of handshakes, warmed by a tenderness born of restrained strength. He owned the building and lived in the flat across from yours, apparently for years now.

“Call me Edel. It’s my pleasure,” he’d said the first morning, with a tilted smile and a soft, almost musical accent. His voice distracted you the entirety of the tour so much so that the flat itself barely made an impression. Instead, you remembered Edel and the soft waves of long, dark hair, how the sunlight caught his cheekbones when passing large, bay windows. “You’ll love it here. I promise.”

Had you moved in for the neighbour with a crooked smile and his unimposing nature, a month from dragging indoors the last of your belongings, you would have been sorely disappointed. Even your first meeting left you wanting more; whether that came in a passing smile when crossing in the hall or more, you weren’t yet sure. With less than a couple of feet from his home to yours, you still couldn’t find it in you to initiate that new relationship, and now it felt like you had waited too long.

You didn’t need to wait any longer.

Moving entwined with an independence you had lacked. Now closer to work, closer to friends and with enough distance from home you really felt free, settling into a new routine preoccupied you for a month. That, and decorating with warmer shades of paint and softer cushions, so that now, curled beneath small window lights, you saw him.

The farthest end of your shared garden faded into outgrown woods, sheltering a lake so far only seen in the advertised photos of the property. Not a cloud marred the pale light cast over Edel’s bare back, shadowed by the hair loose against his shoulder blades. He left the back entrance of the building barefoot, never looking from the tree line before fading into it.

He hadn’t returned when you retreated to bed, no matter how slow you walked, peeking back and hoping for another glimpse. With a fresh coffee in hand the next morning, a blur drifted by, the slender form of your neighbour emerging from the woods. In this light, warmer and clearer for your prying, a slight sheen glistened over his bare body, curls where his hair before rested straighter. Steam no longer rose from your mug when you finally looked away, but it was harder to force Edel from your mind.

Retaining the picture of the slight hue beneath falling water led you into your favourite bakery hours later. Favourite not only because your best friend owned it, but now for its proximity to your home, too. This infatuation thrived in the space of a month alone, then being for the soft touch of his palm to yours a, his quiet laugh at your persistent questioning the flat before he answered each with enduring patience. It was more than that, now, and when your close friend found you in her doorway, the dappled pelt draped around her shoulders reconciled with your neighbour’s night passed in a lake, and his melodic way of speaking.

Isla’s loose braids of pepper hair rested along her coat, flyaway strands wisping around her dimpled cheeks when she grinned. Since your moving, where before you would only see one another on occasion, you would pass with a wave, either beckoned by her or entering with some time for catching up, just to make up for the distance no longer between you.

Though, not today, and without a word of pleasantry you said, “I think my neighbour is fae.”

“You mean Edel?” With Isla so close and her recommendation an incentive to renting the flat, her knowledge of the area was invaluable, even in muffling a laugh behind a cough. Her lips still curled when she continued, “he’s a nokken. Didn’t you know?”

She asked like your drawn eyebrows and frown hadn’t been answer enough. “Like fae? Water fae?”

“Distantly fae.” As Isla reached for your favourite treats, the light caught her pelt. “You seem to attract us.”

Her teasing warmed through you as she handed you the warmed bag. She refused payment, though didn’t turn you from the tip jar on the promise of seeing her tomorrow.

This hadn’t changed anything. You loved your home and living with a nokken hadn’t – wouldn’t, change that.

Knowing what he was, tonight you crept nearer the windows at the faint creaking of doors opening in the hall. The same silhouette left and without the marring confusion or worry for him leaving so late, you tiptoed closer. On a darker night, the moonlight illuminated his muscles tensing with each step further from where a human would choose to rest.

Halfway gone, he faltered, a misstep bringing pale light to cast from his chest to his low hips. Hair darker than the shadows clinging to him tangled about his slender frame when his head tilted. With the slight wind fluttering his hair, it would frame his sharp features beautifully tied back, but then his eyes reflecting white light pinned you. Only then had you the sense to duck.

That shame clung to you long after retreating from your lounge. Maybe he hadn’t seen you, rather only the curtain swaying as you fled, but he had sensed you all the same, turned right to where the the netting tucked back for you to follow him down to the trees. If not for the signed lease, the mortification nearly had you packing your things.

Even as temptation tickled you with a shadow passing your window, you smothered it. Where you curled into the counter, kettle boiling, was far from view had he ever been able to see into your home; he couldn't through net curtains, but reminding yourself came with the sting of shame from last night.

Hiding from him worked until gentle raps came at your door. If he had come now to question your staring, to challenge your urge to watch him walk deeper like he belonged in the night, no defence would rise to your lips.

Edel braced himself on your doorframe. He'd just returned from the lake: hair curling now, the loose trousers cloying to his thighs. That little defence you had ready - an apology, really, drowned beneath the breath fleeing you at his fingers brushing your cheek.

“Come with me."

What little knowledge of fae you now cherished alarmed you, but not so much you didn't move from him. "To the water?"

"Wouldn't you like to?" Lake water followed the muscle of his chest, ending at the darker hairs of his abdomen. Edel's smile burned when you found him looking down to you. "Is that not why you watch me?"

"Call it curiosity," you said, though your breath trembled. He had seen you.

His warm hand fell from your cheek. "Tomorrow, then?"

With a noncommittal, "maybe," and a shared smile, Edel left you to collapse back against your closed door.

No invitation called you to the lake, but a water lily laid outside your door reminded you of the nokken across the hall. The cheaper rent - now, you knew, from fear of living with a creature like him, one related to fae - blessed you not only with a blossoming friendship, but fresh flowers brightening your home with his returns.

Each night on his path to the woods, Edel would pause. Sometimes that was all, just a second's hesitation, but other nights, he would turn and find you half-hidden. Those nights you treasured for the slight tipping of his head to the trees in an extended invite.

You never accepted, and he never stopped offering.

It wasn't so much the fear of entering unfamiliar waters with a nokken hindering you but that you would embarrass yourself. The bright lilies started your day warm, and to follow him would cross a line you weren't ready for; but one you so badly wanted to cross.

The soon familiar routine and its floral scent hadn’t seemed anything more than pleasantries, until a night you replaced the water for the flowers after waving Edel down the garden. Out of love for Isla when she waived a cost, you returned a tip, but you hadn’t offered anything for the flowers nor the smiles from your neighbour. Your friend would never claim a debt against you and while, you doubted Edel would, hoped he wouldn’t, the accumulation following weeks living on his property could amount to any kind of debt, if he chose to claim it.

What better way to appease fae, than with gifts in return?

"Fae like sweet things," Isla told you that afternoon. Sugar coated her fingertips from a long day, a slight dusting along her coat tucked at the back counter, never far from her. She gestured back to the shelves of recipes lining the old bakery.

That wasn’t all that you wanted, though. Isla waited while you fidgeted, seeking the right words. Of course fae liked sweet things, but you wanted Edel to like them, too. Not solely for their purpose in repaying a debt but for who gifted them.

“Like?”

"Bake him something sweet and the effort is gift enough. Try this."

Your friend scowled at the note tucked into her tip jar on handing over a recipe, but waved you out with a smile. The honey-sweetened scent lingered in your home with the flowers after meticulous effort, wafting with you into the hall.

Edel’s breath formed your name, your bodies brushing from his step taken out of his door. On time, too, and the flowery perfume rose from him, stronger and somehow sweeter. His gentle hands rose to your arms, thumbs rubbing slow circles. He was all that stopped you from trembling.

Through a warm accent, he asked, "have you come to join me?"

"Another night, maybe."

"Maybe," he echoed. His eyes fell to where you lifted a warm box. "Those smell lovely."

"They're for you. For the flowers."

"For the flowers," he whispered. The gentle embrace broke like he planned to accept your gift, but instead he brought a foot of distance between you. "You do not owe me anything. If the flowers created such an impression, I am sorry."

The forced tilt to his lips came and went before you could explain, and you stood in the hall long after the backdoor swung open and shut again.

He hadn't returned the next morning. No flower graced your doorstep but when you were just stepping indoors from work, the blur passed your window earlier than each night before, and your stomach dropped.

The tentative friendship fractured further come morning, at a time your absence was known. No flowers came when you left, but the backdoor closed as you turned down the hall. Your distraction allowed him time to leave without your seeing.

So when you finished a painfully long week of waiting and hoping to cross paths, you waited some more. You would go to the water as he had always hoped but going at a time when he was there hadn't been harder. He went to avoid you and by chance after waking late in the night unsettled, finding a glimmer of moonlight disturbed by your neighbour fading banished all remnants of sleep.

In all your nights of peeking through curtains, Edel had never shivered. It was cold. It was windy and dark and you had never been so far down the garden, spurred into the trees by the persisting ache in your chest. It eased when you neared the lake, but replaced with dread as you knelt on a small, wooden platform jutting over the bank.

The water was unforgivingly dark. An unholy screech tore from you when something skimmed your hand hovering against the surface. Edel rose faster from the water to steady you than you could comprehend, cold hands gripping you by your ribs before you toppled forward.

His thumbs stroked in slow circles as you forced yourself to calm down. "You deserved that."

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your heart a weight in your throat. "I miss the flowers."

"Oh?" His head tilted, bringing long hair to cling to his chest in slight waves. "The flowers and their debt?"

Each word hit like a crack to your ribs. "I'm sorry."

When his hold left, it felt like more of a rejection than his avoidance, until he sighed. "It's late."

"It wasn't just repayment. It was a gift, too." He hadn't looked up again. "I promise I've not be waiting, either."

Edel breathed a laugh. "How did you know to come now?"

"I saw you leaving."

His lips rose as you seemed to lie, but before you could remedy it, his palms flattened to the deck. He rose on the strength of his arms alone until water lapped at his hips. It was when he continued to lift himself that the absence of any clothing had you staggering back.

Old wood groaned beneath you but it was quieter than when you said, "I can walk back alone."

At first unsure, his fingertips brushed yours. You hadn't looked back - he was standing, dripping, bare, but curled your hand with his until you muffled your surprise at the touch of webbed skin, as timid a touch as his following whisper.

"You don't have to."

The walk would have been silent, had you not asked to suppress the rising fluttering in your chest, "why aren’t you cold?"

"Are you cold?"

"Freezing."

Edel squeezed his hand to yours. "Then dress warmer tomorrow. Goodnight."

Tomorrow came so soon, with a soft tap to your door all it took before you were smiling up to find him leaning close. No lily, but he reached out to take your hand again.

"Before we go," he murmured, and you rested against the closed door, angled back below him. "Do you know how long this apartment was left empty? Before you?"

His face fell when you shook your head. "I knew it was empty for some time, but…"

"Two years. Over twenty-six months." His touch softened when he released your hand, revealing the thin webbing tickling you. Edel's lips twitched when you traced along it with your fingertip. "Do you know why?"

You hadn't the heart to say it, only nodding.

"Those lilies were gifts," he began and stared at your hands sliding together. "I may be folk, but I have no malicious intent in luring you to the lake. I only ever sing in the shower or beneath the water. If I ever-"

"Never," you said. Irrespective of whatever threat he thought of he posed, you didn't care.

"I'd love your company."

When you tugged on his hand, he fell in step. "I'd love yours, too."

Late in the evening, Edel would meet you in the hall. Until you shivered or tired, you would spend the time on the deck while he floated in the water. The lilies returned after he ventured back to the lake, but without fail, he walked you back the short way to your door. His touch would pull on your hand until falling with a smile always soft on parting.

What little progress made found its way back to Isla when she urged you in, with instructions to offer him the same treats he before refused; not as a gift like they had been, but something you wanted to give him. You promised to meet him later, after you had warmed the honeyed puddings, even holding your ground when his frown tugged at your heart before leaving. Carrying them down to him was worth it, if only for the rising nerves in your chest - the good kind.

The scent teased him from the water. Edel extended a hand to draw you closer before his bright eyes widened. "Not in trade?"

"Not in trade,” you nodded. “I promise."

"While I do believe you," he murmured, and your throat tightened as he lifted himself to your height. "If this is not in trade, give me something more."

His breath fluttered against your face. Your fingers curled against the edge of the platform. "Like?"

"One kiss." Edel's hand stroked from your crossed leg up, rising to your waist. "If you would like to. As a gift."

The wood might have splintered beneath your hands when you lifted your chin. Water dripped from his hair, cold to your face but the heat of him, his hand tight against your hip, lit a fire in your stomach.

It lasted no more than a passing second before water rose back to his chest. Edel grinned from the lake, his lips fleeting against your knuckles still locked tight to hold yourself from following him in.

He no longer left bare down to the garden since your accompanying him, though the night you first saw him, he hadn’t been either. Whether he dressed anticipating your stare choked you, but freed you to turn once to your door. Edel stilled at the kiss his cheek and you were inside before he could fully utter your name aloud.

His cheek tasted of the sugar form your honey treats.

Another week, you would have celebrated the weekend, but nothing helped pass the time until it was late enough his door opened. Edel hadn't closed it again before you were there, breaths fast and smiling up.

"I'm coming."

"Good," he breathed, before lowering himself to steal a light kiss. His hand tugged on yours. "Now?"

Though this had been why you were restless all day, having him soften, both hands rising to your cheeks to lift you closer, nearly made you faint. He whispered your name and kissed you so gently, you tiptoed and sought him again.

This time, he lingered. With your foreheads together, he ran his hands along your arms. "I've never kissed someone into stupor before."

"Don't tease," you gasped. He was still sweet on your lips and he carried that same floral scent you loved, clouding your thoughts.

"Was I not clear?" He kissed you again but lifted himself so you could see the warmth to his pale cheeks. "It's you I want, not just company."

"Me?"

"You."

"You want me?" Edel hummed, his touch tracing up your arms again. "Prove it."

He gasped and as he stared after you, inching backwards over the threshold, it felt like too much of an overstep. Then it passed and he followed you, the door closed and locked behind him.

His lips rose crooked. "Go on, then."

The apartment mirrored yours in layout and later, by his side, you would marvel at the softer hues in his decorating, more greens and greys, but you were running beyond the lounge, past large windows to an open bedroom door.

His arms came around you and aided in slipping free your clothes, until his bare chest warmed your back. "I'm to prove I want you, yes?" The heat of his palm stroked down your stomach. "Is that right?"

"Yes," you gasped, trembling already at his hand slipping lower.

"Kneel on the bed for me," he whispered to your throat and you were helpless, only hesitating at the end. Edel circled the bed and when he turned, your stomach fluttered at him tying his long hair up. His chin tipped in an unmistakable invitation. "Come here, beautiful."

His hands on your thighs lifted you closer when you gasped, astride his chest and swallowing hard. He kissed your inner thigh, undeterred by your small whine.

"Wouldn't this be better if I laid down?"

His tongue ran over his lips. "Please."

"If you need to stop," you whispered, though the strain of withholding yourself from bringing his flushed lips to where you ached most nearly overcame you. “Edel?”

"If I need air, I will tap your thigh. I won't, though," he teased, and guided you to kneel around his head, so grateful his hair had already been knotted back. "Come here…"

You lowered yourself evidently not fast enough, as Edel let free a groan and drew in a slow breath. The headboard trembled with your clutching it tight, knuckles aching like last night on the lake's platform.

One, slight touch of his hot tongue to your slit had you gasping, forgoing any inhibitions and rolling down against him. Edel made as many sounds of contentment and circled his thumbs into your thighs, parting your folds for him to lift his face higher.

"Do you… do you need me to-"

"Closer."

Edel's groan came when his lips softened against your clit, gentle at first before he focused there, mindful of how you clenched and what made you whine, then what made you gasp. The flattening of his down dragged, coaxing your cries louder. He drew on the coil burning in your navel with each stroke of his hot tongue, down until he curled it against your aching centre and tasted you around him.

One hand fell low, tugging at his hair to keep him close. Every flick of the muscle prolonged the tingling running down your spine, down to your toes curled on the sheets.

Soft palms gripped your thighs in aiding you back once your moans eased to harsher breaths. Edel settled you over his lap, but your body already so sensitive against him made you tingle again. He faced you with a glistening smile, one tended to by his tongue before you chased after his moan.

"Is that proof enough?"

Your forehead rested to his, breathing deep. "Proof?"

"Proof of how much I want you." He laid kisses along your throat and when you thumbed the waist of his trousers, his eyelids fell low with a hummed moan. "Say no."

"No."

His cheeks were flushed, hair curling at his temples from your body around him, so unlike the weight to his dark stare. "I'd like to prove my want with you sitting like this-" he rolled his hips up against you, and both of you shared a moan. "Is that what you'd like?"

Edel relinquished himself to you. Only in trousers, you caught yourself moaning just from reaching to stroke his length. He stretched from the bed for protection as you inched closer again. The tint of blue to his body tempted you closer, wanting nothing more than to already have him.

Edel kissed the heat falling from your cheeks down to your throat as you undressed him. The tint to his body captivated you, down to the blue hue to his dark head. He stretched back from the bed for protection, though trembled with the pad of your thumb tracing up the veins running along his length.

That shared thought brought his hands to your hips, your body lifting above him. His cock pressed to you, slick and aching, and you clenched around him when taking him deep. That sensitivity hadn't faded and dizzied you, adjusting still when he kissed you.

"I was right. My pleasure," he said, before his body moved against you, his cock dragging along your fluttering walls.

My pleasure, he'd greeted you on your first meeting, but you disagreed. Every arch of his body brought him deeper, and every kiss enticed another whimper until you were trembling so soon around him again.

"So beautiful," he whispered. His hand cradled your face, thumb running along your parted lips as he peppered touches along the column of your throat. "Everything I've ever wished for."

"Edel-"

He gasped with you as you tightened your legs around his hips, clinging to him at the returning pressure in your abdomen. The lake could wait. You wanted to spend forever in his arms, letting your head fall back so his tongue could trace down to your collarbones.

Edel grunted from your hand unravelling his hair, only to draw his lips to yours as his thumb graced your flushed clit. One firm stroke and you cried loud, your rhythm faltering as your orgasm overcame you. He continued to rub your nerves, an arm banded tight around you until he moaned your name and stiffened.

Until your breaths eased, you clutched each other close. The gentleness in his care as you rested by his side was no different than any other time, tucking an arm beneath your crown as you lazed in his hold.

You woke alone.

The bedsheets were cold, tousled and bathed in the same moonlight he had left you for. No light came from his lounge as you left in his trousers and your shirt.

The night wasn't so cold, but quiet. Each step nearing the lake matched your racing heart, and it rose to a crescendo finding him waiting in the water, reaching out to hold you when you undressed. Even if the night hadn't been cold, the water was, so you curled tighter to his chest.

"You left."

He waded deeper, kissing your temple. "I'd have been by your side before you truly woke."

"I'm awake now."

Edel breathed quietly against your hair. "I wanted you to feel free to go."

"Is that what you want?" If not for the water strengthening his embrace, you would have turned away. "For me to leave?"

His lips curled down, though he looked beyond you. "I'd rather now than later."

"Was I not clear?" Edel's shoulders softened from beneath his jaw. "It's you I want, until you want me gone."

Where his lips had been hours before, he kissed your throat, soft against your flitting pulse. It was promise enough as he cradled you to him, holding you all the way back to his bed, and neither of you planned on leaving soon.

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kim-monsterlings · 4 years

Text

Cathair - M Kelpie x F Human (Reader) // NSFW

The pictures do not belong to me. I only created the mood board. Do not repost my work anywhere.

Content: NSFW/Lemon; childhood friends, mentions of inflicted harm to reader (near drowning, scar on left upper arm), minor angst, allusions to death, growing fluff, hugging and intimate embraces, kissing, receiving oral, fading out/allusions to more NSFW - if there is anything else anyone would like added, let me know <3

Wordcount: 5292

Faebruary Summary: after abandoning your childhood home, the memory of your kelpie and your feelings for him draw you back

Notes: apologies for this being so delayed! I had some time off at the beginning of the year, but the lovely Cathair is finally here. I hope you love him! <3

Masterlist // Faebruary Masterlist

Gentle embraces left dark impressions on your back from grieving family; grieving in anticipation, as you travelled the miles to your hometown. Their farewells - certain they would be an eternal goodbye, rang as your only company the closer you came to your abandoned house near the valley.

Crowded by the creeping tree line, it rested abandoned for years. Only faint memory beckoned you through brambles to the smallest clearing, a far way from the closest bus stop, that itself farther from the train station.

Packing light hadn't eased the burden of returning, though you wouldn't stay long. The guise of wanting to pack up your old things would wane after several days, and if that hadn't yet exhausted you, the trial of rekindling what you remembered as more than friendship with the woodland kelpie would.

If he hadn't drowned you by then.

Somehow, your home still stood. Neglected and damaged but there all the same. Untouched without your needing to check: this land cursed by folk wasn't sought after. It had always been your family's, no matter how disputed by the creatures rarely emerging from their murky rivers.

Yet you went in the hopes of finding the kelpie. Your sister's wishing for your wellbeing manifested in delicately crafted charms. Blair's wards were useless against the likes of man-eating creatures, and only somewhat effective against true fae. It hung all the same, like the silver bridle fell at your kelpie's throat across the clearing.

It was only right for Cathair to guard his territory.

Standing before you like a daydream, the dark horse pawed with gnarled hooves before your old home. Too far to see the unforgettable glow in his blackened eyes, the glinting moss tangled in a thick mane danced in the soft wind. The sense of unease at being so close to him twisted your navel, though not from fear like it once had; from pain at seeing him after so long, and now wanting to flee.

With a deep dig at the damp earth, Cathair moved. Faint sunlight glinted along his flank, an eerie sheen forcing your stare down. Today, you wouldn't challenge him. Not so soon, with a low breath close enough to chill through to your bones.

Jagged teeth snapped not far from your shoulder: a warning, and one you wouldn't heed. He passed with a scent so familiar you nearly reached out, desperate for the rush of warmth his thin frame could bring when curled around you.

Instead, you settled for looking back when he left to the trees. "I missed you, Cathair."

With the swish of his tail, the faint scar on your left arm ached. The light of the clearing vanished into the woods too, away from you and nearer the body of deep water a short walk away; close enough someone could run off unnoticed. How cold it was rushed back to you. The emptiness beneath the surface drove you into the untouched house, onto old floorboards creaking with every step.

You had given yourself three days. Optimistic, Blair said. She gave you an hour, whispered onto your shoulder as she saw you off.

If he came near enough to question why, after so long hiding, after years of silence from disappearing late in the night, your excuse would be the same you told your family, though nobody believed it. You wondered if he would cling to the lie and hope you left again.

The same mess waited indoors, of scattered possessions too insignificant, left behind while the mark of a kelpie stung fresh on your arm, and his kin, your friend, chased you away as you ran.

If he came closer again, you would tell him the truth. That Cathair's brutality in defending you as you nearly drowned hadn't forced you away, but his family had. It was the fault of his brother for seeking you out and dragging you down the banks into cold water. Cathair saved you.

The fresh bedsheets almost smelled like him.

Coming home brought a sleep long into the morning. Even as a lie, you still began sifting through old diaries, some with handwriting far harder to read than the delicate script from your family. This curled and looped inconsistently, signed by the little boy with dark hair, always your shadow in photographs pinned to the pages.

The photos told the same stories of the friendship you remembered, while your sister preferred the safety of indoors until night, when the child with a smile wider and brighter than yours returned to the woods. They told of you both growing up, just out of reach of Cathair's family - before his brother came from the waters in his footsteps.

By the time your back ached from leaning over faded pages, it was late afternoon. The groove deep outside the threshold hadn't been crossed. Even left untouched, the figure lurking in the forest darted closer. Out of view, but there.

Here.

The empty bag on your shoulder swung when you reached for your phone, unsurprised to find the call from Blair. You'd told her of your arrival, reassuring her - and everyone she would then turn to, that you hadn't yet been stolen by fae folk.

Surviving the night was different, and her breath caught on the other end when you answered with, "I'm alive and unharmed. You can stop checking on me."

"Never," she said, her small, light laugh rushing over you. "Is it still standing?"

"Barely."

The doorframe held beneath your shoulder. Blair replied, something quiet and nonsense. This was all padding until she could pester for more and as she fretted, you looked to the sheen of moss along the kelpie's mane, cautiously stepping from the trees.

"Hello?"

"Sorry. I'm here," you said, and your sister cleared her throat.

Blair spoke softer, as though knowing where your focus drifted in the pause. "His necklace," she said and even through the trees, the slight reflection of the bridle glinted low on the kelpie's chest. "Have you broken him?"

"He doesn't need breaking. He never has." Her sigh followed yours. Cathair held steady among the trees as you came to stand further from the door, and a part of you hoped he heard as you said, "I trust him."

"You trust the kin of the kelpie who tried to drown you?"

His ears twitching may have been coincidence before, but the rising of his head couldn't be. Your stare held. "With my life."

There was little more to say to one another. They disapproved and you didn't care. The impasse was as old as you, so you promised to speak later - to reassure her that you were still alive with a promise you would be home soon, before shrugging your bag right and drawing in a breath.

"Cathair?"

Hooves stepped forth. Still not the form you wished for - not the sweet embrace, the lilting charm inherent in folk - but the dark horse revealing himself completely now still tripped your pulse.

"Hi," you whispered, quiet, but he heard as well as he heard your call, his tail whipping. "Is it just you? Not... not your family?"

His muzzle twisted. With the inherent threat, you had to swallow a laugh. It only lured you further from the safety of your home. This creature, this gentle kelpie responsible for saving your life, wouldn’t harm you, and still, the land hadn't disturbed your rest. A family of kelpies would've sought the first trespassing human out in a night, or less.

Cathair's head fell low. Yes. Only him.

Nothing betrayed the fate of his family, even as his ears continued twitching back. However they came to leave their land, whatever chased them or otherwise, it was well-deserved. Your deep scar ached as you reached to scratch it, drawing sharpened eyes before the shadows embraced enshrouded again.

Branches parted for his wide form and created a path you followed. It veered down to the water, the path well-trodden - one you remembered clear enough, from only one journey down - but you turned away.

Unfamiliar faces watched you walk through the town you once called home. The few you remembered, friends you thought of as family, like distant cousins, had followed yours in moving away from land plagued by folk, and you busied yourself in buying the supplies you needed for the rest of your stay, if not a little extra, too.

You were home within the hour, bag weighed down by fresh food, a small first aid kit - as a precaution, and a heavy bundle of meat in your arms. If there hadn't been a curled horse before your home, the fresh scent would've enticed him from the water.

"Did you miss me?" His head lifted, only enough to narrow at the bundle. The trembling energy tight in your stomach pulled you closer. "Did you think I'd leave so soon?"

Cathair rose, though you held steady; you had to. Muscles locked as the creature with unnatural jaws crept closer, your throat tight. Hot breaths fanned across your face, the kelpie standing well over you. Like this, the allure of his bridle made your fingers twitch.

If he were human, nothing would have stopped you from leaning into him.

Instead, you lifted your chin. "Want an apple?"

Dark ears twitched forward, a faint green to his coat enough for your fingers to curl against reaching for him. This close, even looking at his chain was a feat itself; any other kelpie would have reared back from the looming threat of subjugation. Extending your hand never made you fear an extra nip to your fingertips, but still, your breath caught. Only a slight lean closer and you would be near enough to snatch the bridle away, trapping him as he was now.

You wanted him back, not trapped.

One huff and the apple lifted from your palm, snatched by a jaw opening too far, flesh jagged like his teeth.

"You're welcome," you teased. His tail twitched but he didn't move. When his head lowered, you couldn't help smiling. Cathair nudged his muzzle against your empty palm, nickering softly. "If you come back later, there may be spare meat for you."

Reaching out had been ambitious. Cathair darted back before you could stroke his long mane and when he faded without turning, the constriction in your chest drew tighter.

Banishing him from your thoughts wasn't so easy now you were no longer far from him. Out of sight perhaps, but only minutes from where you fretted over long-settled dust. It passed the time, to trace old etches into walls from hours playing with your sister, until it darkened enough outside that a faint glow from beyond the door beckoned you.

That same glow haunted your nightmares after leaving, but soothed you again when you woke, finding comfort in the kelpie who had drawn you from the murky waters rather than sacrificing you to his kin.

That need for comfort ached through you and it had been long enough after forcing yourself to eat something that you reached for a jacket. Not one breath from closing the door at your back, Cathair distanced himself. Water clung to his coat with a tangling of water reeds, knotted and thick. His tail swished at your approach but the unmistakable flaring of his nostrils brought you closer, beginning to smile.

"Sit with me." Without looking to affirm what the coil in your stomach told you - that every scuffle of hooves was another further from you, the two wrapped bundles captivated him. "Please."

Before you, he wouldn't eat. Not like this and not the meat remaining bundled in its wrapping. Cathair joined you, though. Remaining a fair distance and so far your fingertips tingled, forced into your lap and busied by reaching for your snack, in the hope he would join you not like this.

Faced with a kelpie now, heat crept along your cheekbones. That Cathair came at all held you from retreating.

"My sister says hi," you began, picking at one half of the sandwiches, the one intended for you. His ears flicked. "They all do."

And it wasn’t a lie so much as a twisted truth. They missed being here, not necessarily him. Had the rush of hot air not been enough to signify his irritation, the short whinny was plenty. Best not to inform him of their predictions for your improbable journey home.

You pushed the bundle to your back and inched closer. "Have you been alone all this time? Is your family... are they gone?" Head lifting, he nickered as he had that afternoon and even quieter than him, you whispered, "thank you." For saving me.

Whatever laid at the bottom of his territory - whatever was left to, was none of your concern. The kelpie unsettled was, who only shivered worse at your nearing again.

"I wanted to visit. Often. If you had chased me away again," your jaw locked against the words. "It would have broken me, Cathair. Did you miss me, too?"

Not one twitch appeased you. Not one turn to his ears nor stretch of his torn muzzle eased the pang in your chest, thudding like a rib had cracked. The press of your fist into your stomach didn’t lessen it, either.

The curl to your lips wasn't much a smile, reaching your cheeks but not your eyes. Every forced breath scratched your throat. "It's late. Don't you ignore me, okay?"

He remained still while your muscles barely held beneath you. The bundle rested nearer him with every step towards the cabin.

And with every breath taken further from him, the truth in Blair's pleas for you to stay throbbed in your temples. How could you know if Cathair had wanted you to return? If the same kelpie who ensured you left his land longed for you, too, then his snapping jaws wouldn't have mirrored the jaws of his kin when dragging your drowning body under the surface.

If it was nothing more than a wilful fantasy, the soft groan at your back was a hallucination. Rougher pants and deeper grunts spurred your heart into a flurry. While he underwent a change so torturous you could only imagine, you clutched the doorframe with white knuckles for support.

Without an audible footstep, heat pressed to your back. Hastened breaths nestled against your hair, lips pressing to your crown. It strained your senses when he whispered your name, with his arms creeping around your waist and drawing you to him, back from the door.

Grooves to his palm tickled brushing to yours. Cathair slid his fingers down, and swayed when you softened to his chest. Turning as far as his shoulder, your kissed the pale skin, gently first, before returning the favour and stealing a breath of his scent.

Kelpies hardly changed far from humans, and he had been so alone. The embrace eased your tremors to little more than a whisper at his chest. "Will you come inside?"

He only hummed low, breathing, "no."

So simple, yet one syllable broke you. He held you from turning completely, his fingertips stroking the backs of your hands. "Why not?"

"No," he said. Large palms fell to run down your thighs and against your hips, binding you to him. Familiar muscle from his bare frame tensed and the press of a chain dug into your back. "Not alone with you."

Before you asked again, his touch flitted against your upper arm. The tracing of your scar left you paralysed long after his return into the woods.

No matter how far you dared venture along the same path he followed, no flitting shadow rose. No prints from hooves or bare feet led you to him but that scar ached how it never had before.

The softest touch from a window left open along your arm cradled you in your sleep, tricking you into believing he finally came to you. Old nights of the window opening wide enough for a slender frame to sneak indoors came to mind and the wind mimicked his embrace, careful, and always cold.

But he hadn't come inside. He wouldn't.

Little remained to sort through. Meaningless and pointless now to complete, yet you wasted the day sifting through them. Some - sketchbooks, usually - settled with smeared prints, like someone had traced where you had before leaving. You ran over the jagged edges left from torn pages, matching the paper you had rushed to carry away; portraits of him, old messages passed in notebooks. More pages were missing, though.

Maybe the faint scent lingering on old bedsheets hadn't been just wishful thoughts.

Only for fresh air, you cracked the door open late that night. To find bright eyes fixated on you frightened you back, staggering against the frame, forgetting in that second who watched.

He never faltered.

Guilt gnawed at you the longer you stood in the doorway, but you wouldn't go further with his heavy tail swishing, no doubt his sharp teeth bared if you approached now, so late.

"Cathair," you whispered, and his dark form moved with a trembling shudder. "I'll leave soon. Just... just come in, and sleep warm. I feel bad enough as it is." When fae folk made no move to come closer, you sighed and let the door close, calling, "goodnight."

Collapsing onto the cushions in the dark living room was followed by chills creeping over you. With the land of a kelpie came an unease, a familiarity haunting every sight. Not every night could be so peaceful and you tossed restlessly, until the first rap of the door felt more like your thoughts taunting you than reality.

For one, slow step indoors, your intended bed for the night hadn't been within his line of sight, but Cathair turned only to you. The door closed at his back and he crept closer, bare from the hips up - clad only in torn fabric hanging from his thighs, hardly covering him. Soft light cast a gentler glow on him now, along the dark hairs of his chest, the impression of bone ghosting his thin frame. You longed to touch him where you used to, along the curve of his collarbones, where you once toyed with his necklace without ever contemplating breaking him.

Blair would tell you to snatch it from him, to bring him to his knees. You would have him, your Cathair, then, but he wouldn’t be the same - not trapped and enslaved.

You couldn’t move. When he fell before you to his knees, a hand rising slowly, you relished in the familiar heat leaning over you. Moss-thickened hair framed sharp features, clinging to his pale flesh. Beneath that silken hair, thin slits to his neck flattened now on land. He touched your cheek with slow, deep breaths.

Then he softened, fingertips running down your throat. "You are too comfortable around me."

It was too late for an argument, any debate - and it would be a fight. You wouldn't stop until Cathair welcomed you like he used to, with his smile unnaturally wide and long arms curling you close, but now was too late, too dark in your moon-lit lounge.

This may have been the first time Cathair came through the door in your presence. It was unheard of for a kelpie to pine after a human, but to follow through; to slip into your bed and kiss you, careful to hide his daggered teeth, only enticed his family. It made you a challenge.

The cushion became your pillow after you kissed his palm and his touch fell back. With the room dark and your trust implicit, you closed your eyes. As hesitant as to your cheek, his fingertips fell down your waist.

"There is room for two here," you whispered. "Room for two in the bed. In our-"

His chest warmed beneath your cheek and with each careful stride nearer the bedroom once shared in secret, his heart beat harder under your temple. The weight of his bridle tucked near your crown, hanging heavy from his throat but you rested by his shoulder rather than risk hurting him.

"I do miss you," you said quietly. Your hand stroked down the slope of his chest, hugging him closer. “I really do.”

His breath warmed your cheek. "You're tired."

"Tired of wishing you stayed."

Cathair stiffened around you for the slightest moment. "I never left."

The first bend to his knees came and you made to lean back, only for a rough grunt to choke in his throat. He held you close until the bedsheets made space before laying you back, lingering only to tuck back your hair.

"Cathair-"

"Goodnight."

The lithe muscles to his back rippled at your fingers on his wrist. His arm to your lips made him swallow hard, the kiss softening just below his elbow, where the scar forever wounding your arm rested.

"Will you stay? Stay on the sofa."

He turned, a kiss returned to your palm, a hint of a small smile, before the bedroom door closed. The fleeting skim of teeth warmed your stomach in a rush of everything but fear.

You woke at the front door closing.

Blair, in the least, didn't approve. Your parents wouldn't be told of your late night visit, and you couldn't promise your sister it wouldn't happen again. Not as you tightened your coat around your chest and followed the path laid by hooves.

Thick boots couldn't steady you over damp earth and fallen leaves. With every step from your home, the woods quieted. Bird songs softened until your steps alone rang in the air.

That pool left you frozen, the creature within looking so much like another pale-bodied being that strength escaped you. Several years before, that cold water rushed into your lungs. How he could swim in it, live in it, reminded you of the nature of the man wading deeper.

And still, you would give anything to be with him again.

The figure waist-deep tilted his head. Thin hair floated with the murky water, rippling against the shadows of his lithe muscles.

"When will you leave?"

The invitation back indoors fell silent at your lips. Cathair held his palms where water ran, a glimmer from his chain against the surface. He strode deeper in your silence, up to his shoulders blades. Following him even into deserted waters, no matter your trust, couldn't happen today, and he crept to his throat.

"You said you would leave me again. Soon. So," he murmured, head tipping back, moss clinging to his crown. "Go."

Before he fell, before he returned to pretending you weren't here, you dug your feet deeper into the ground. "I'm here. You forced us out, too," you called, harsh and unsympathetic to the sudden locking of his muscles. "I wanted to be with you, Cathair. I want...” When your words trembled, the sting rose to blur your vision. "Send me away. I won't come back again."

Halfway home, your foot fell from a loose stone. The soft whisper of your name on the wind beckoned you back, though you continued until you could collapse on a bed he used to lay beside you on, aching to call Blair, though her patronising would worsen your suffering. Either you drowned or returned miserable and all you wanted was the kelpie hiding from you.

If he wouldn't come to you within the next days, you would be home in less than week. The fresh air walking to town spared you the time to torment yourself with thoughts of him, busy feigning passing smiles, hoping nobody would recognise you as the girl who nearly became a kelpie's prey; the girl who still wanted one.

Before dark, you rested surrounded by disorganized possessions that ought to be burned, lest you turn to them again for comfort. Some things you posted home that day, old scraps and photos, but there was nothing more you could do to busy yourself.

Nothing more to do than close your eyes against the trick of light nearing your home.

Still, he knocked, as though you would refuse him. You didn't answer, either way.

"Bags?" Hardly a step through the open bedroom door, he whispered and stilled. Careful touches flitted over the straps, following the abandoned pile of clothes for the journey home beside them. His body fell with all the grace of something other, cradling your loose scarf and bringing it to his face. When his eyes closed, your heart lurched.

"You're forcing me away again."

His shoulders hunched. The scarf muffled him before he clutched it in a tight fist, stroking the material. "This coming morning?"

As you intended, he flinched when you said, "I have no reason to stay."

Cathair came closer in the dim light, and you struggled to sit up faced with his sudden decision to cross the distance. He was bare, the pale of his body tinged, bar the necklace dangling down his chest. Your scarf fell now you were within his hold. When he reached out to you, his fingers were cold on your cheek, slender and running back to lift your head.

"I wanted you to have my bridle." Breath left you on a sharp rush, and Cathair pressed himself closer. He cradled your face and when his seemingly empty eyes found yours, he held you there. They glistened. "Before you left, it was to be yours."

The last time you had seen him, in the thick of night and holding back a cry, he hadn't spoken. You told yourself it must have been the same pain at being apart, that he would miss you just as much, then he never reached out, never replied to letters delivered here, so you fought to move on, too.

But looking at him now, fallen onto his knees and offering servitude, your heart broke for him. Cathair curled his fingers at your waist and clutched the thin slip when you turned, and he bowed his head to lean against your thighs.

"I don't blame you for that night," you said quietly. His shoulders rose with a sharp breath. His raven hair had the same shimmering to it as his body when you brushed back the thin strands, careful to avoid jostling him. "I trust you. I chose to befriend you, Cathair, and you saved me when your brother-"

"You left."

The scar on your arm throbbed with a phantom pain at the memory of sharp teeth catching at you. No human could dismount a kelpie, and Cathair swung to help, to fight off his brother, but dislodging you would leave you helpless again in a river of kelpies unable to swim with a wound so deep. Saving you from drowning first then protecting you, he had nothing to guilt himself for.

Then you left.

That same night he whinnied and rose from the riverbed as you ran. He followed not far behind, tail swishing fast until he turned and left you fleeing.

Cathair hardly reacted when you touched the thin bridle, but he lifted his head, eyes round and shadowed. "It is yours. Take it."

"I don't need the bridle to trust you. Unless you... unless you want to leave, to live out your life in that form, then I won't take it."

"Why?"

"I don't want to enslave you!"

His thin lips rose in an eerie semblance of a smile. "Why do you trust me?"

"Cathair," you whispered, and it was you reaching to frame his cold face, brushing your thumbs beneath his eyes. His lips turned to your wrist. "Why wouldn't I? I've loved you my whole life, and you've never once abused my trust. You've never once hurt me, tried to drown me or eat me-"

His teeth nicked at your wrist, though he was fast to kiss the soft skin again, a warmth in his voice when he spoke. "I could."

"You could. Do you want to?"

His body rose, leaning on his knees with large hands gentle on your thighs, before pressing his lips to yours. Tenderly, without moving for a breath when you held still, desperately trying to hold yourself back from scaring him away.

Cathair fell back with a soft thud. The brush of his hands upwards made you soften, but you mistook it for a way to hold you, not the question it was when his thumbs dipped and pressed your legs to part. He bowed low and brought his lips to your inner thigh, drawing in slow, steady breaths, before his lips softened on the thin fabric barring him from your body.

"Do you trust me?"

"With my life."

"I want to taste you."

With his touch guiding you, Cathair laid a warming hand to your stomach. He ushered you back, fingers tugging at your underwear until you were bare, your slip thrown away.

He trembled and lifted your thighs up to his shoulders, breathing deep, and the first kiss was experimental. He watched you tighten, your legs coming to press at his head until he returned low, guiding his hot kisses down before letting his tongue slip against you, and you cried his name. As you gasped now, it came different to when you spoke to him in the woods, with such power he himself groaned, and when he tasted you again, ran his nose up to nudge against your flushed nerves.

"You taste divine."

Rougher breaths flushed against your bare heat, awakening the heat molten in your navel. Like he knew, Cathair looked up, holding your desperate stare before his lips came around your flushing clit. Your hips bucked and he sucked, drawing a rough cry from your throat.

"That's it," he murmured. "Let me have you on my tongue."

Too flustered, too lost in the gentle touches, his hand running up your stomach to run against your breast made you arch into him. Cathair's soft laugh made you keen, his fingers teasing your nipple and rolling it beneath his thumb. The other hand, though it slipped your attention, too, began to stroke low, and his middle finger curled itself to the knuckle. Each crook of it had your stomach flipping, and he eased another, stroking against your tight walls until you whimpered.

"Please- I'm close-"

"I know, love," he whispered, and his fingers pressed you wide for his thick tongue to dip up, to taste you there. Tension tangled heavy in your stomach and he curled his fingers once more, the cold touch of a chain against your thigh a stark difference to how hot his breaths were, lapping with fire. "Show me how much you love me," he murmured, and his lips caught your bud of nerves as you screamed his name and your vision blurred. His sharp teeth grazed where you were most sensitive before chasing your release, kissing up your thighs and still moving his fingers in a way that had you unable to breathe properly. Cathair settled back and with your eyes on him, brought his slick fingers to his mouth, groaning. "You taste like heaven."

You fell back with a heavy head, and he came to lay by your side, soft lips to yours. The taste of you was thick on his tongue, and he laid over you with a hand smoothing back down your stomach. He held you close, his own body hot and pressing into yours.

"I want to stay," you whispered, and reached to bring him impossibly closer. "I want to stay here and be with you again."

Cathair's small smile warmed your heart. As you both curled back against the bed, the kelpie lost in touching your smooth skin, he took your lips again and promised, "I'll always stay with you."

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