#blue star fern
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Head empty, only plants. Shouldn’t I be gardening? (It’s too difficult!) Besides, these little beebs are so obedient. And happy. And less punishing on my back.
Hoyas are still my plants. But there is room for succulents and a few choice ferns.
My room is a cacophony of smells: I have 6 (going on 8) Hoyas blooming. Stinky! This year they’re all taking off; I’ve only got 4 out of 18 left to bloom!
#houseplants#plantblr#hoya#succulents#flowers#foliage#Hoya callistophylla#Hoya Australis Lisa#Hoya linearis#Hoya compacta variagata#selenicereus chrysocardium#sedum morganianum#sedum burro#phlebodium aureum#blue star fern#platycerium#staghorn fern#can you guess which one is my all time fave?#all these babies have names#the australis bloom is SO COOL#everyone is growing like crazy it’s a little scary?#they are taking over and they deserve everything#the sedum and H compacta have grown a startling amount since I bought them should have taken baby pictures#trypophobia warning#yep they look like teeth
151 notes
·
View notes
Text
I have two new ferns :3
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
Plant tour!
This is my blue star fern (I think!). I got this on a whim, I'd already had one and killed it and this one is much smaller, the pot also gave me hope. I am killing this one much more slowly, I definitely learned a bit from the last one. They don't like to be watered from the top and don't seem to like much sun. This sits on the back of the toilet and I feel like it needs a bigger pot soon though I'm scared repotting it will kill it.
1 note
·
View note
Photo
Phlebodium aureum “Davana”
フレボディウム・オーレウム「ダバナ」
Blue Star Fern
0 notes
Text
Me And A D@^~ Fern
Me And A D@^~ Fern
When I walked in the store, I knew exactly where it was. Had watched it these last few weeks. Saw it when it first arrived, in its latte brown clay cover pot, and its lovely soft blue-grey leaves. Mesmerized, I left my grocery cart by the salads, out of the way, and went over to touch its beautiful leaves. I was enchanted. But, I left it there, but noted the grower. Once home, I googled what it…
View On WordPress
0 notes
Text
Did anyone else read absolutely horribly gut wrenching books as a kid for school that when you finished it, it made you stare at the floor for a while just digesting the material. Stone Fox haunts me like an old friend in the way that death does.
#Stone Fox#More honorable mentions being Where the Red Fern Grows and Island of the Blue Dolphins#Oh Number the Stars also hurt#Man what were Elementary schools on#Hey kids today’s lesson is finally understanding the concept of death#Here’s some tissues for the road#Nihil Dreams
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
[ID: a colorful digital illustration of an archaeopteryx fossil with its head twisted upside down under one wing. The animal’s silhouette is shown behind the skeleton in black with a red outline. Surrounding it are various plants, beetles, fossils, a feather, and stars, all outlined in shades of orange, yellow, and green. The background is blue with a simple blue and black fern border. End.]
Archaeopteryx! A beautiful feathery link between non-avian dinosaurs and modern birds (avian dinosaurs)! This illustration is based on the iconic Berlin specimen and will be the postcard for this month’s ko-fi supporter rewards!
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧, 𝐮𝐬
best friend!max verstappen x reader / 2.4k
max keeps up your friendly tradition at the us grand prix.
⚠️: friends with a little something more on the horizon. one teeny mention of throwing up in a sleeping bag. cutesy, fluffy, best pal max.
ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ
The world is alive with a kick only found in Austin.
Cowboy hats and cowgirl boots; star-spangled everything and a roaring reception fit for rock ‘n roll stars. Bloodthirst donned in a bolo tie and winning smile.
You swipe through your camera roll, pinching each photo to read the gimmicky banners and count the bullhorn gestures. Giggling when you spot a grown man with a sign addressed to Lewis: I called in sick to watch you race.
Max glances over his shoulder. “What’s so funny?”
You turn your phone.
He squints at the screen, huffing a laugh, then scrolls through some more. “They love and hate with the same passion. It’s actually kind of scary.”
“I love it here.”
You push off the couch and wander over to the window.
The sky is a brilliant blue, dazzling even through the tinted glass. Striking Southern sunlight bounces off each motorhome in the paddock. The lot busies away, polos scurrying from building to building, VIP lanyards shielding their eyes from the sun to take it all in.
Max taps your shoulder with your phone and nods to the door. “C’mon. Time.”
He leads you outside, loosening his elbow to let you slip your arm through his. He turns heads and raises whispers – though none of it seems to bother him. It’s like he doesn’t even notice.
He’s already turning inward, already picturing the starting line behind his eyes. He’s thinking tactics and thinking strategies, making mental notes about turns twelve through fifteen; tire degradation and DRS and not saying fuck or shit or driving too close to the car marked 4.
His eyes lift only for a second. He frowns at some photographers up ahead and positions himself in front as you walk. His head ducks again, giving them little more than a winning shot of his Red Bull cap – and he takes your hand.
“Here,” he says, “We can dodge them.”
He cuts between ferns and life-size driver banners, speeding past crowded bistro sets. By the time they clock him – Was that Max Verstap–? – he’s already thin air.
Through one of the backdoors to the garages, Max pulls you down a darkened hallway.
You giggle, trying not to trip over his heels. Cooler, though not by much, you breathe a sigh of relief and rub the starry sunshine from your vision. When you pull your knuckles away from your eyes, you gasp.
Max halts.
“What?” he asks, twisting around. His hand stays locked in yours. “You okay?”
Your nose bumps against his shoulder as you crane to see properly through the sliver of an ajar door.
Behind a throng of serious faces in white shirts and headsets – a table. Three trophies, tall and slender, polished to perfection. Obnoxious, maybe a little – but glamorous and gleaming all the same.
And right in front of them –
“Are those the podium caps?”
Max studies your face for a moment. A smile threatens the corner of his lips, but he fights it down. He follows your eye to the three hats.
He nods. “Looks like it.”
“Denim, Max. That’s so cool.”
“Well, y’know,” he sniffs, giving your hand a light tug, “It is Austin.”
“I don’t have a denim one. Yet.”
He shoots you a look more steel than blue. You don’t have to speak Max Verstappen to know exactly what it means.
You’ve been collecting his race caps – the rare designs, anyway – for as long as he’s been in Formula One. At home, there’s a whole corner of your closet dedicated strictly to Pirelli.
His very first winners’ cap sits proudly on the tallest hook, all the way to the Canadian maple leaf design that made you squeal when he presented it to you.
He knows the ones you’d like, the second he sees them. Eight years’ worth of victories, turned into something even more meaningful.
Granted, there have been a little fewer than normal lately – but sometimes, you like to pretend he’s in that cockpit aiming for first at least in part to see the smile on your face when he fits the cap on your head.
Still. He stares you down.
“I wouldn’t get too excited,” he says, walking on. “The car is shit, lately.”
“Language,” you hiss, grinning.
Max shakes his head. “I can still send you home, you know. The race hasn’t started yet.”
He’s only jesting – but annoying him is too much fun.
“Oh, you wouldn’t do that. I’m here for sympathy reasons, remember?”
He grunts in response.
Austin wasn’t meant to be on your list this year. It’s one of your favorite grands prix, that’s for sure, but you had planned to miss it this time around on account of the new guy you’d been seeing.
That is – until you called it quits last month.
It had only been a few months – three, if that – but the longer it went on, the more you noticed incompatibilities. Little things, like the way your schedules clashed, or the kinds of places you each liked to hang out.
He was a great guy, and he took it like a champ – which made the bruise sting a little…sharper.
Max let you wallow for three days. He spent a decent chunk of the month’s break after Singapore at your place; ordering you takeout and then refusing to let you pay, waking you up each morning to work out with him. You’d never admit it, but after a while, it got kinda fun.
Then, when it was time to get back to work, he invited you to Austin. You know being there will cheer you up, he said. And besides, I need my lucky charm.
So far – what with the denim Pirelli caps and the front-row qualifying result – he’s fast turning out to be right.
He pauses at the turn into the garage. “How are you, anyway? Feeling distracted?”
You smile, slumping against the wall opposite him. “Very. I forgot how hard this place goes.”
He nods, sipping from his bottle. He glances down the hall towards the echoes of photographers. “Sorry about the…” he waves a dismissive hand, “…Ever since Singapore, they…”
“You don’t think I’m used to it by now, three-time-world-champion?”
He curves his hand around the back of his neck, lips curling. “You wanna watch from the garage again, or upstairs?”
“Upstairs, please. I don’t need another 4D experience of you crashing.”
“Wasn’t exactly fun to me, either,” he says, nudging your arm. He lists directions, reminding you to stay behind the shrubbery to evade the cameras. He makes you swear you’ll text him once you’re seated.
“Do you want my pinkie, or is a blood oath more acceptable?”
“It’s a lot of different tracks, alright? Sometimes even I get lost.”
Your eyes narrow. Liar.
He smirks. “Okay, I don’t. But I also don’t stop to fucking stare at denim hats, so.”
“Go do your job, potty mouth. And drive safe.”
“Mhm.”
“I mean it, Max. Just – aim to finish in one piece.”
He pulls you in for a hug, pressing his lips to your temple.
“I’m aiming for a cap,” he says, and swings into the garage.
It’s Ferrari’s race from the opening lap. No other team gets a look-in.
Charles steals the lead from under Lando’s feet, propelling ahead with Carlos in tow to secure an easy one-two for the Prancing Horse. They hold fast the entire race and – though they are, in theory, two of your best friend’s current enemies – they nail it.
You know that, when you find each other later, Max will tell you the same. He’s never a sore loser when simply lovely racing is involved.
Fifty-six laps and five and a half kilometers later, you’re watching him on the podium.
Well. You’re watching your next collector’s item – on his head – on the podium.
Third place isn’t too shabby for a man perpetually fighting his machine – and even he looks relieved just to be up there. He glances down as the Monégasque national anthem plays, and tilts his head purposefully.
You grin up at him, eyebrows raised. I see it, you send telepathically. I’ve chosen its hook already.
Max is careful not to let it become too soaked during the champagne spraying. He ducks out of Charles’s path, aims his own at Carlos’s back. He’s the first to tip the bottle against his lips and drink, and the others quickly follow suit.
There’s probably a grilling waiting for him in the press tent. Was Norris’s five-second penalty just? How did the car feel during that battle? Do you see the rear-end of a McLaren when you close your eyes at night?
You take the opportunity while the paddock is still quiet to sneak back to his motorhome, falling back onto the double bed. There’s a flatscreen on the wall opposite you; a crystal vase of roses on the marble counter beneath.
Some days you have to remind yourself that, behind all the titles and trophies and treasure – he’s still the same kid who ate so much candy at your eighth birthday party that he threw up in his sleeping bag.
Behind all of it, he’s still Max. Your Max.
Says you can have a go at his racing simulator, then laughs while you fight with the controls. Says he’ll pick you up after a night out, then takes voice recordings of your drunken babbling to play back to your hungover self.
Says, He was a nice guy, but you’re going to be okay – and invites you to Austin to take your mind off it.
You’re watching some real estate show under eyes heavy with sleep when the motorhome door clicks open.
His shadow sways down the narrow trailer, and he materializes at the foot of the bed.
“Hello.”
You lift your head. “Hello, yourself.”
He takes your wrists and pulls you upright, scooping you in a strong hug. He’s soaked in sweat and champagne, race suit hanging from his hips, but you wrap your arms around his shoulders anyway.
His hair is damp, cheeks flushed and heated. His stubble scrapes your skin. He buries his nose in the crook of your neck and sighs.
“Thinking of moving to Mexico?” he murmurs into your shoulder, turning to look at the screen.
“The remote was on the other side of the room. I’m tired.”
“Me, too,” he says. He pulls back.
You take his jaw in your hands. “You did so good,” you whisper, thumbs smoothing the lines his balaclava has left behind. “That battle with Lando – I thought – maybe –”
He scoffs, lazy smirk pulling across his face. “Nah. Light work.”
It warrants the knock you deal his bicep.
Max laughs. “Oh,” he says, and reaches behind his back. From the waistband of his suit, he pulls a slightly dented, very drenched third-place cap. He straightens out the material. “Took it off as soon as we got backstage. Didn’t want my hair to make it all sweaty.”
You take it from his hands delicately, grinning from ear to ear as you tilt it in the light. “It’s so fucking cool, Max.”
He hums. “Here.”
He handles it with the same care you did, for the sole reason that it means this much to you – and Max knows it. With a gentle smile, eyes flitting from yours to your lips, he places the cap over your head and straightens it into place.
“There,” he steps back, “You just won third place at Circuit of the Americas.”
You giggle, turning to catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. “Oh my God, I look so goofy.”
“No you don’t,” Max replies, standing behind your reflection. “You suit it better than I do.”
There’s a beat – a moment, stood against his chest, eyes locked and hearts aligned. You lean back on your heels, and he perches his chin soft on your head.
His hands find your shoulders. “I’m gonna jump in the shower,” he says. “Do you want to head back to the hotel now, or –?”
You shake your head. “I’m good. I’ll wait for you.”
“’kay,” he whispers. He lingers, still scanning the sight before him. Hands still on your body, squeezing in time with your hammering heartbeat.
Probably taking in the oddity of the entire thing, the same way you are. The two of you framed in the mirror, no closer than you spend most days, and somehow – the closest you’ve ever felt him.
Your Max. Who once caught wind that you had a crush on one of the kids in class, and teased you all summer long for it. Who once gatecrashed your horror movie night with Victoria; burst out of the closet in a Ghostface mask, screaming bloody murder.
It’s exactly the kind of feeling you’d text him for advice on. Hey, what do you think about this? I had butterflies today, standing next to this guy.
Exactly the kind of thing that he’d reply with, Does he know you cry at animated movies?
Does he know you say good morning to the birds?
Does he know you burn pancakes anytime you try to make them?
Yes, you’d send. And he doesn’t mind any of it.
Max takes the visor of your cap between his fingers and turns it. “This way for when you’re feeling fancy,” he says, laughing at his own joke the way he always does.
You breathe a relieved laugh of your own. “Sure,” you reply, shaking that feeling free. You turn, hands light on his forearms. Your gaze climbs from his chest to his eyes.
“Thank you,” you whisper, staring into the oceanic home you’ve known since you were a kid. “I’m really glad I came. You, uh…I don’t know what I’d do without you, Max.”
He shrugs – never one to take a compliment without wrestling with it first. “’s not about me,” he replies, tapping your nose with his knuckle. He swallows, shifting between feet, before his chest fills with a deep breath. “Let me take you to dinner. As a thanks for coming, obviously.”
“You mean the hat isn’t my thanks?”
He shakes his head. “I can do better than a smelly denim hat.”
“I’ll bet you can, Verstappen.”
#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen fic#mv33 x reader#f1 fanfic#formula one#formula 1#my writing#fic: austin us#f1blr#f1 x you#f1 x reader
543 notes
·
View notes
Text
some kinda swamp dragon
[ID: a watercolor, acrylic, and colored pencil illustration of an alligator-like creature with blue, purple, and reddish-pink scales. It has a pointed tail tip. It is holding a large star/sun in its parted jaws. It is surrounded by swamp tupelo leaves, fireflies, ferns, and waterlily leaves. The background is black.]
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
sage & stardust
🌙 starring. Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. “I think you’re amazing, and good with your hands, and pretty, and I enjoy spending time with you too,” he counters, echoing the entirety of your sentiment. You stare blankly up at the man. It’s clear he doesn’t know what you’re getting at. You wonder how fairies court each other- do they even court each other? Do fairies have sex? Or are they just… you don’t know, blossomed out of flower buds or something?
tw/cw. Unprotected sex, Mingyu holds y/n down by the wrists, size kink, mentions of possible bondage kink, heavy petting, worship, Mingyu is a boobs guy, nipple sucking, fingering, pussy stretching, foreplay, multiple reader orgasms, oral (f receiving), praise, dirty talk, etc… I pet names: (hers) my star. (his) Gyu.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 9.6k
🍭 aus. Fairy au, fantasy au, non idol.
☀️ mlist + an. Okay, so, I’ve written sooo many fics on this blog, and lately I’ve been wanting to try things I haven’t done before. I’ve never done a legit small man fairy dude (who does become normal/large sized later) x yn in a fic before, so bare with me, because these two are such a delightfully domestic pairing. Without further adieu, I give you: blue-collar fairy Mingyu.
Prologue
Pandora lives in a little cottage in the forest. Even though she’s young, she knows the trees and ferns, the mushrooms and flowers. Who needs mundane playthings when you have four entire acres of wilderness to keep you entertained?
Her mother is an artist, and steady hands run in the family. Pandora spends her evenings carefully painting a dollhouse model of the cottage that her father had crafted for her in his little workshop shed outside.
All in all, it’s a peaceful existence, and things are very predictable. Mother is in the studio solarium room, fingers covered in inks and colorful spots. Father is crafting something in his shed, fixing up the house as he engages in an endless war against the elements of the forest.
Pandora flutters around, checking in on her parents, and exploring the immediate grounds around the cottage. Today, she’s following a particularly beautiful butterfly as it glides amongst the trees down by the pond. She’s so enamored with the pretty wings, that she almost doesn’t notice the fairy ring.
A circle of mushrooms, one she’s scouted out before, is along the bank of the murky water. Pandora has heard tales of fairies and pixies, and has been warned not to enter circles like this. She sidesteps the ring, and that’s when she notices something out of place, something that hadn’t been there yesterday.
Just outside of the little circle, is a small creature. At first glance, the glossy wings look butterfly-like, but Pandora has never seen sage green wings like these on a bug. The small child pauses, hiking up her dress and kneeling down to get a better look.
Definitely not a butterfly. Where an insect would have a thorax at the joining of wings, this creature has a tiny little man. Well, he’s bigger than a butterfly would be, but it’s clear to the young girl that she’s looking at a fairy, and as she inspects him further, she notices one of his wings is torn.
Pandora has mended butterfly wings with her father before- she knows what to do, but she’s hesitant. Should she help this small fairy, as she’s helped many bugs before him? Is he simply resting and not in immediate danger?
She looks around, noting any predators in the surrounding area. A large bird circles overhead, and Pandora decides she has to act. Reaching for a leaf, she scoops the tiny fairy's body into the greenery, carefully carrying him back toward the cottage.
As she gets there, she sees her father getting into his work truck to head to town, and Pandora knows better than to stop him. She also knows better than to go interrupt her mother, who is on a deadline for a piece and has asked not to be disturbed.
No, Pandora will have to do this rescue mission herself, and she heads into her father’s workshop to find the glue.
She does her best to be gentle, even with her pudgy fingers, as she mends the torn wing. When she’s done, Pandora finds one of the many small boxes her father has made. It’s a cedar box, with a small, iron latch.
Leaving the fairy, she goes outside, collecting a little nest of moss to put into the box.
When everything is finished, she sets the fairy into the box, carefully closing it and latching it shut. He needs some rest, and as far as the small child is concerned, he’s safer in her little box than lying in the grass where big predators might hurt him.
One:
“I’m sure it’s no surprise that your grandmother left you the cottage,” the lawyer in charge of the estate tells you as he looks over the papers on his desk. “As you are the only artist in the family, Pandora wrote that she hopes the solace will inspire, as it had inspired her, and her mother before her.”
You nod solemnly. It’s a monumental gift, one your cousins would kill you for- but alas, you’d spent the most time with your grandmother in her later days, and the solarium studio is already set up as your own. To be young, and a homeowner now- this had never been your intention in spending time with her, but perhaps it’s a happy outcome, given the dire situation of her passing.
“She also wanted me to tell you, that you can finally open the box.” The lawyer looks at you expectantly, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Do you know what she was referring to?”
“Yes,” you respond. “She’d kept this small cedar box. Her father had made it for her when she was a child. It’s on her nightstand, but she’s never opened it.”
“Well, that’s… interesting.”
“Yeah, Pandora’s Box, I know the story,” you let out a sad chuckle. “Part of me doesn’t want to open it, she always told me not to, I guess I made it this big bad thing in my head as a kid.”
“I’m sure it’s just jewelry or something of the sort,” the lawyer assures you, and you remind yourself that men of the law are never the superstitious type.
Two:
You’re a few glasses deep into your bottle of wine, and you find yourself looking at your grandmother’s small cedar box. Curiosity is getting the better of you, and liquid courage is doing wonders to calm your superstitions.
There can’t be anything dangerous in the box, or your grandma wouldn’t have left it for you… right?
Taking a breath, you approach the box. It’s sitting on your dining room table, you’d gingerly carried it from the bedroom earlier, with the intention of opening it, and now, you will.
You sit, staring at it for a few moments. Your hands shake when you reach for it, but you push away your anxiety. The iron latch is old and worn, but it clicks open after a bit of work. Taking another deep breath, you lift the cedar lid.
Nothing happens, no surge of dark spirits releasing the worst of humanity, no hurricane or pestilence-
You lean forward, looking into the box, and you’re shocked by what you find there.
Half buried in a nest of mossy greens that looked like they were only picked hours ago, is a small winged man. It’s a fairy, you realize, with glossy wings-
He stirs a little, stretching his arms above his head and yawning.
How could this be? Ignoring the moss that’s apparently been preserved for over seventy years, how is this tiny creature still alive after being shut away for a lifetime?
Part of you wants to close the box, to forget about it- but then the tiny man’s eyes open, and he stares up at you. You freeze immediately, as if paralyzed, your mind going blank in the face of the supernatural.
The fairy rubs his eyes, sitting up amongst the bed of moss. His hair is all messy, but in a way that’s kind of adorable. He gazes up at you, and then, he speaks. “Hello?”
“Hi?” It comes out a question, and you’re unsure how to proceed, so you say nothing else.
“Sorry, this is embarrassing,” he laughs, and you note the way his skin has turned pink. “Did you save me?”
“As horrible as this sounds, I uh… inherited you?”
“I don’t even know what that means,” the tiny man muses. “I remember being attacked by a large bird in my realm, my wing was damaged, I made my way to a fairy ring to come to your world and recuperate, but I must have passed out.”
You consider his words for a moment. “My grandma used to fix butterfly wings, is it possible she found you and fixed yours?”
The fairy extends one of his sage appendages, inspecting it. “It definitely looks repaired… Your grandma, you said?”
“Yes.” You nod. “I was told she’d had this box since she was a girl… have you been in here for a long time?”
“I was in hibernation, the dark and the moss- it was healing, I awoke because of the light.”
“So you have been in there for years,” you conclude, shocked. “I’m… I’m so sorry.”
“How many years is ‘years?’ You humans have a different view of time than I do.”
“Probably seventy or eighty?” you suggest.
“It didn’t feel like that long.” He cocks his head to the side, clearly thinking, then he looks up at you again. “How long have you had me?”
“I uh…” you swallow thickly at the question. “Well, I just inherited the cottage, and my grandma left the box to me in her will too… so, only two days.”
He nods, looking down, continuing to think hard about whatever it is that fairies ponder deeply on.
“How… how do you feel?”
“Well rested,” he smiles, breaking the look of deep concentration. “I’m ready to get back to tinkering.”
Tinkering… that definitely sounds like a fairy word, and you don’t question him further.
“Please don’t let me stop you from getting back to your home,” you tell him. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience of my grandmother keeping you in this box all this time.”
“It’s alright,” he yawns again, then pushes himself up from the moss. He’s dressed in a little green fairy outfit, and you do your best to commit him to your memory. His wings are truly beautiful, the way they shimmer even in the electric light of your kitchen. “I remember a pond.”
“Yes, there’s one right out the back way, must be a fairy circle there,” you nod.
“Thank you for the directions,” he smiles sincerely, and then, he begins to fly. You wonder how such delicate-looking wings could carry his body weight as he heads toward your open kitchen window. He lands on the ledge there, turning to give you one final nod of farewell, and then the fairy is gone.
You sit there for a few minutes, staring after him in shock.
How much wine did you have to drink?
Three:
It’s a Thursday like any other. You’re getting used to living in this cute cottage in the woods, spending your mornings waking up with the sun, heating a kettle for tea, and letting the creative juices flow in your mind before you ease your way to the studio to paint.
It’s the end of spring, and the promise of summer warmth is looming on the horizon.
You’re just beginning to contemplate breakfast when there’s a knock at your door, and it makes your heart freeze in your chest.
Although you might be getting somewhat accustomed to the seclusion, there are still very real dangers of being a single woman out on a large property alone in the woods, and this fact makes you hesitant as you head to your front door.
You can make out a large man through the glass, and you take a breath before peaking your head out. “Hello?”
It takes you a moment to recognize the man, as he’s substantially larger than the last time you saw him. The fairy is no longer palm-sized, instead, he’s well over six foot, and he flashes an awkward smile down at you. “Hi.”
You take in his attire, the worn jeans and the green flannel… you also note that he’s barefooted. “You’re wearing my grandpa's clothes.”
“Yeah, I uh… noticed the box in your truck, figured you might be getting rid of them anyways, so I slipped in through a crack in the window. I couldn’t just show up naked.”
Good point. “You’re big now,” you point out.
“Can I uh… can I come in?” He rubs the back of his neck nervously, surveying your front porch.
You take a breath. Part of you says this is a bad idea, but part of you is also saying that this is a fairy the size of a human man, and if you don’t hear him out, you’ll be wondering what could have been for the rest of your life.
You push your door open for him. “I just made some tea, follow me.”
The fairy’s footsteps are loud on your wooden floors as he shadows you to the kitchen. You give him your cup, pouring a second one for yourself before leaning back against your sink.
“I don’t even know where to start,” the fairy sighs, taking a seat at your small dining table. He cups his large hands around the mug of tea, as if warming himself.
“Well, I’m y/n,” you tell him.
He smiles thankfully. “Mingyu.”
“Nice to meet you again, Mingyu, how about you tell me how you’re human-sized and your wings are gone?”
“Fairies can transform. In my own realm, keeping my smaller shape is easier, but here- it takes less energy to just… blend in. It’s a sort of, um, adaptation, for survival, I guess.”
“It doesn’t make sense how you can go from tiny to massive,” you point out.
“Well, you see, I’m big for a fairy,” Mingyu laughs nervously. “It’s part of the reason I never fit in that well with others of my kind.”
You frown at his words, giving him the space to continue.
“Yeah, so anyways, I went back home, and I had been gone a while, and it just felt weird. I hadn’t fit in before, and I didn’t fit in when I got back, and I guess I just figured… you’re a girl, and you’re here alone, in the forest- I mentioned I’m a tinkerer right? I fix things? Was thinking maybe I could help fix up your place.”
Is he seriously offering to fix your house? You stare at him in shock. “I’ve never really thought about fairies being blue-collared.”
“Blue-collared?” he looks down at his flannel in confusion.
“Never mind, it’s uh, it’s a phrase, it means you’re a worker, you do building and stuff.”
“I’m really good at building and fixing things,” he nods solemnly.
“So… you want to stay here with me? Room, board, food… in return, you’ll fix up the cottage?” you clarify.
“I guess.”
You study him. “I’ve heard about pixies and fairies who try to lure people into fairy rings-”
“It’s not like that, I promise.” He meets your gaze. “Look, what if I fix your little shed workshop thing, show you what I can do, and you can decide later?”
You consider it for a moment. “I guess that could work, but first, you’ll need some workboots.”
“If you think that’s best.”
God, he probably does most of his tinkering while fairy-sized and barely wearing clothes… which isn’t something you want to think about.
Setting your tea down, you head to one of the back closets, where you’d stashed away a few of your grandfather’s possessions, the important things, unlike the donation box currently in your truck.
You find Mingyu some shoes, and when you go give them to him, he flashes you a smile and heads outside to get to work.
Four:
You’re doing your best to focus on painting, but your solarium gives you a perfect view of your grandfather's old work shed, where Mingyu is currently tinkering around.
He’s fast, and it’s clear he knows what he’s doing.
Your grandfather’s shed has a whole stash of tools, shingles, and wood, and Mingyu has already redone the roof, ripped a few worn boards off to replace them along the sides, and completed general tidying work.
He’s even weed-whacked the tall grass around the workstation, and as lunch turns into evening, he comes back from the woods with a small tree on his shoulder, which he then begins to chop for firewood.
You can definitely see how he’d be helpful to have around… and you can afford to feed him if he’s going to fix up your home. He’s probably already done a couple hundred dollars of work, maybe even a thousand- work that you’d been meaning to hire someone to deal with once you’d settled in a little more.
You get started on dinner. You’d planned on rice bowls, and it’s easy enough to make a plate for him. Then, you go outside, calling him toward you.
Mingyu’s sweaty, and he’s got some sawdust on his jeans- but God, does he look handsome and chipper.
“I made dinner,” you tell him.
He nods, smiling before following you inside. You note the way he takes off his boots at your door, brushing off his pants, careful not to bring any dirt into your otherwise tidy house.
The two of you sit down to eat, and he’s extremely verbal about how thankful he is for the food, and how good it tastes-
You come up with an avenue of discussion to distract him from his praises. “What would you living here entail?”
He pauses. “I hadn’t thought too hard about it.”
“I feed you, you do work, you live here?”
“Something like that.”
“How long do you keep your human shape?”
Mingyu takes a breath, setting down his spoon. “I’ll be honest with you, whether you see it this way or not, your grandmother saved me. I was wounded, I came to your realm, anything could have gotten me, but your grandma saved me, glued my wing, and kept me safe so I could hibernate and heal. I owe your family. My home isn’t my home anymore, please let me help you make this cottage your home.”
“No, I-” you release the tension in your shoulders, “you can stay, but, seriously, how long do you keep your human shape?”
“Is it a space thing?” Mingyu looks around. “I can be small when I sleep if it’s a space thing-”
“I mean, my grandma has a replica doll house of the cottage that her dad made for her, was going to offer that up for you.” It’s meant to be a joke, but Mingyu takes it completely seriously, nodding diligently.
“That works, I just have to go collect some moss to make a bed-”
“Are you being for real?” you ask, blinking at him.
“I should probably go back to my normal size when I sleep, it makes sense and takes up less space,” Mingyu nods.
“If you change your mind, I do have a spare bedroom.”
“Nope,” the man-sized fairy shakes his head, “the doll house works.”
“Well… if you want to go get some moss, I can grab the box of clothes from my truck,” you suggest.
“Let’s do it.” Mingyu is so easy, he just agrees to everything.
Soon the two of you are reconvening at your front door, you with a box, him with a palm full of moss. “The doll house is in the studio, I was planning to paint it.” Mingyu follows you to the solarium. In the dark of the evening, you have to turn on the fairy lights you’d strung up, and Mingyu lets out a breath.
Even you have to admit the space has ambiance. The solarium studio is a lovely part of the house, your favorite in fact, although, tonight, you’re feeling a little shy about your art strewn about.
“Did you paint all of these?” Mingyu asks, approaching your most recent work.
“Yeah, they’re uh, abstracts,” you explain. “I mean, I gather a lot of inspiration from nature, but it’s more a feeling than a specific thing that I like to paint, if that makes any sense.”
“It does,” Mingyu nods, leaning down to get a better look at your art.
“My grandma, she uh, she was an artist too, and so was her mother, and she gave me the house because she knew I needed inspiration-”
“Maybe that’s why she gave you me too.”
Your heart lurches in your chest, and you blink up at the tall man. “Uh… maybe.”
“So this cottage has a long line of artists and tinkerers,” Mingyu concludes.
“The line ended in my mother’s generation,” you sigh.
“That’s not true.” Mingyu looks down at you. “We’re here now.”
Five:
You wake up feeling as refreshed and well-rested as ever. It’s odd how much of a difference having a male presence in the house can make, even if he was the size of your palm while you were sleeping.
You’ve been here over a month, but you’ve not yet gotten used to the seclusion, the feeling of being alone. Mingyu is an unexpected comfort, and you quietly tiptoe to your solarium to see if he’s awake.
The nest of moss in the dollhouse is empty, and you move to your kitchen, getting a kettle started before looking out the window. Mingyu’s lumbering around in the tree line. He’s dressed in a white shirt and blue jeans, and damn does it look good.
You turn on some music, quietly making breakfast for two while trying to fight the urge to watch the beautiful man.
You’d slept in more than normal, another byproduct of feeling safe, and due to that, by the time you’re taking two plates of food outside, the temperature of the late spring air is already warming with the noon sun.
“Mingyu,” you call, finding him by the workshed, “breakfast!”
He bounds over like a puppy, and you set the plates down on a small circular table. The metal lawn set can be a bit rough, and you’ve tried to soften it with comfy pillows. Mingyu doesn’t seem to mind as he plops down, grabbing the bacon sandwich you’d prepared.
“Smells delicious,” he tells you, taking the largest bite of food you’ve ever seen.
You watch him, amused. “Did you get up early?”
“Yeah, I don’t need much sleep. Just spent eighty years sleeping, or so you tell me.” Mingyu smiles at you, a tight-lipped smile to hide the food in his mouth, you’re sure.
“It’s a nice day,” you sigh, leaning back in your chair and looking at the world around you.
The sun is out, it’s a little cold, but the sky is clear. Dew drops are in the last stages of evaporation, clinging to the green strands of grass along the hillside area that leads down to the pond.
“Every day is a good day for tinkering,” Mingyu agrees. “Which, I meant to ask- is there anything you wanted me to do?”
“Uh… like what?”
“I’ll finish the shed soon,” Mingyu promises. “I already have ideas about extending it, but, if you wanted me to paint the house, fix anything inside that’s a little wonky and in need of tinkering-”
“I think you should focus on the shed, if you want to extend it, you should.” For some reason, you’re apprehensive about him coming into the house just yet- you need to… acclimatize to his presence, and right now, having a wall of glass between the two of you is keeping your heart from exploding every time you look at him. “Do you uh… do you need anything to build your addition?”
“Your grandfather kept a lot of tools, nails, screws- and we’re surrounded by trees. He had loads of extra shingles, enough for years of repairs to the cottage and the shed.” Mingyu smiles at you. “I think I’ll manage… but, when it comes time to paint it, maybe we could paint it together?”
“Maybe.” You can feel your skin heating at the idea. “Anyways, I wanted to bring you some food, now I’ve gotta go inside my studio and get to work.”
“Sounds good, tinkering calls, thanks for breakfast.” Mingyu pushes the last massive bite of his sandwich into his mouth before standing up.
He nods to you and then you watch him go, sneaking a look at his butt before you tear your eyes away.
This could either be the best idea of your life, or the worst.
Six:
Mingyu had taken his time with the shed. He’d made it twice the size, and added more windows that your grandfather had left sitting around in the original structure- it’s crazy how much he’s accomplished using only the things that are left over and semi discarded.
Then, Mingyu had taken to restoring the inside. He’d spent two days just moving stuff around, tidying and dusting- and another day just cutting wood to fill up his firewood stash.
Now, a week after showing up at your door, he’s finally come inside to begin tinkering with old hinges and loose screws. He’s going over every inch of your cottage to make sure it’s up to his fairy standards, and you’re extremely aware of him, especially when he makes it to the solarium to begin to work.
The french doors have been a little off for years, one hinge is a little wonky- and it’s hard to focus on your painting while Mingyu’s standing there and fiddling- or, scratch that, tinkering.
“Watcha working on?” Mingyu asks, and you suppose he must have caught you staring.
“Oh, uh… it’s a new project, and starting is always the hardest part.”
Mingyu comes around your easel, looking at the new blank canvas you had pulled out just an hour ago.
“Do you have any ideas?” he questions.
“I mean… one or two.”
Mingyu cocks his head at you. “Tell me.”
You release a deep sigh. “I guess… I was wondering if maybe… maybe I could paint your wings sometime, in an abstract sort of way.”
Mingyu is quiet for a few moments, and you immediately try to backpedal, but he stops you. “No, it’s okay, sorry, I was just- I’ve never been someone’s muse before.”
“You haven’t?”
He shakes his head. “In uh… where I come from, my wings aren’t exactly that extraordinary.”
“Really?” you ask in shock.
“Yeah, they’re just green. I know a lot of fairies with all sorts of colored wings, pinks, purples- every color of the rainbow. Green is… well, it’s bland, it’s like everything else in the forest.”
You can’t believe what you’re hearing. “You seem to forget that I came to the forest for inspiration- the greens here are beautiful. If I remember correctly, your wings are like… sage and stardust.”
“Sage and stardust,” Mingyu repeats, his voice like a whisper. He cracks a smile. “I like that.”
“So you’ll let me paint them?”
“If it would make you happy.”
“It would.”
“Then yes, you can paint by wings.”
Seven:
Mingyu’s continued his daily tinkerings, but now, your evenings are spent in your solarium. You’d found one of your grandmother’s magnifying glasses, the type she used for butterfly wing repair, and Mingyu is the perfect muse, sitting patiently and letting you inspect him.
You’d spent half an hour just trying to get the color of his wings right, and now, you’re doing long brush strokes against the cream canvas. You’d found some glitter too, and while Mingyu spends most of the time sitting on your shoulder while you’re painting, he also offers to douse his hands in sparkles and do the small details for you.
It’s odd, thirsting for this large, beefy man during the day, only for him to downsize and nuzzle into your hair at night- he’s still so cute as a fairy, and his wings are truly beautiful.
“You see me like this?” Mingyu asks, fluttering off your shoulder to gaze at the painting. He’s so small in comparison to the large canvas. “These are really my wings?”
“They’re beautiful, Gyu,” you tell him, giving him a nickname without a second thought.
“Gyu,” Mingyu repeats, turning to look at you. “I like that.”
You hold out your paint brush, and he flutters over to it, balancing on the wooden handle.
It’s crazy how you’re already getting used to him- to the little things, Mingyu included.
Eight:
It’s gotten to the point where Mingyu wants to paint the shed, so the two of you decide to head into town together. It’s a small population, and you know that the sight of the two of you is raising a few eyebrows as you enter the paint store.
Mingyu sticks out, not only for his size, but his beauty as well. He truly is stunning, and you notice multiple women staring as the two of you wander around the store.
“So what coloring are you thinking?” Mingyu asks, heading to a wall of paint swatches.
“I mean… I just sort of figured we’d repaint it to match the house again?” you suggest.
“Well… it’s your house now,” Mingyu points out. “What are your dream colors?”
“My dream colors?”
“Yeah, I promised you I’d help you make it your dream home, didn’t I?”
Your heart melts as you stare up at this gorgeous man. He has such a soft heart, you can’t believe how much you care for him after only two weeks, how much he clearly cares for you- but you try not to read into it too deeply.
You turn to look at the paint swatches, truly considering what your dream home would look like.
You choose a pallet, showing it to Mingyu, and he nods. “This will be great.”
The two of you go to get the paint, and soon, you’re back in your truck. You try to play the radio, but it doesn’t drown out your thoughts, so you turn the music down.
“Did you notice how many people were looking at you today?” you ask.
“Hmm?” Mingyu tears his gaze from the trees moving by.
“Girls, a lot were staring.”
“Were you staring?”
You flash a glimpse at Mingyu and find him grinning at you… is there a mutual attraction here? Does he like you the way you like him?
Things are just so easy. Choosing paint with him for your house, letting him make your house your dream house- it all just feels so domestic, not to mention the fact that you generally don’t like people watching you work on your art, but you feel comfortable with him.
“I, uh… yeah, I look at you, we’re friends.” You cough, forcing your eyes back to the road.
“Close friends,” Mingyu confirms.
You turn the radio back up, and Mingyu looks out at the trees again, but he doesn’t stop smiling, and your heart doesn’t stop racing either.
Nine:
It’s hard to sleep. You can’t help but think about the car ride with Mingyu earlier.
He has to be attracted to you… right?
He’s been more touchy during your late-night painting sessions, and less afraid to cuddle up in your hair. You’ve noticed him watching you too… often when you look at him, you catch his gaze already on you.
Cohabitation with a man as fine as he is- well, you know where it leads, and you’re a little shocked you’ve gotten this far without breaking first.
You toss and turn in your bed, groaning.
God, when was the last time you were this horny?
Can you… can you touch yourself with him right downstairs? Is that weird? What if he catches you? Mingyu said it himself, he doesn’t sleep much- and… is his hearing better as a fairy? You don’t actually know much about his abilities when he has wings… maybe these are things you should ask.
You let out a sigh, bringing your hand to your breast through your sleeping shirt. In no time at all, your nipple is pebbled against your touch. You release another breath, closing your eyes and thinking about Mingyu.
You search through your memories, deciding to focus on the thought of him chopping wood. God, in his little tank top, his muscles all bulging and glorious- the way his sweat begins to drip, making the fabric stick to his skin, showing off his abdominal muscles-
You can feel your pussy getting wet, and you begin to glide a hand down between your legs-
You stop, opening your eyes. Fuck, you can’t do this. It feels dirty, sinful- and not in a fun flirty way.
This isn’t something that you can continue with- you can’t keep feeling this way. You have to tell Mingyu how you feel. If it ruins everything then it ruins everything, but you can’t keep this cohabitation agreement up if you’re falling in love with the man- or, should you say, fairy.
God, maybe you should have never opened Pandora’s Box. It wasn’t a flurry of chaos, not one you could see anyway, but you’re beginning to feel chaotic inside, and coming clean to Mingyu is the only way to get it settled.
Ten:
When you wake up the next morning, you move slowly. You have a shower, make some tea, and then, after going through an internal script numerous times, you decide to go outside to tell Mingyu how you feel.
He’s been painting the shed all morning, that much is obvious from how much he’s completed- and to make matters worse for yourself, he’s shirtless.
You almost turn and go right back inside, but instead, you pull up your big girl panties, taking a few deep breaths.
You have to do this, you’ll regret it if you don’t- just as you knew you’d regret it if you hadn’t let Mingyu inside a few weeks ago to hear him out.
“Gyu?” you call.
“Oh, hi!” he waves, and you watch paint splatter everywhere from the brush in his hand. “Oops!”
God, he’s so- he’s so- he’s a big dork, in the best way possible.
You watch Mingyu wipe his hand across his abdomen, clearing the splatter stain there. “Had to take my shirt off, painting isn’t my strong suit sometimes,” he explains, putting the brush back into the can before he approaches you. “What’s up?”
Suddenly, everything you’d planned to say to him just disappears from your mind.
“Are you thirsty?” you ask, voice cracking.
“Could use some water,” he nods.
“Come inside,” you instruct, tearing your gaze away from Mingyu’s perfect body to lead him back into your cottage.
He follows you like a good boy, taking his boots off on your deck before joining you in the kitchen where you have a cup of water waiting for him.
Your hand is practically shaking as you give him the cup, and he looks you up and down, an expression of concern appearing on his face. “You alright?”
“Yeah.” You swallow thickly, shaking your head. “Just… a little jittery.”
“Is there something on your mind?” Mingyu questions, taking a sip of his water.
God, he’s still shirtless, and it’s as if he doesn’t even realize it! It’s as if being half naked in your kitchen is the most normal thing in the world to him!
You take a deep breath, doing your best to hype yourself up. “I like you,” you say finally.
“I like you too,” Mingyu grins.
“No, I… I like like you.”
“Like like?” he repeats, cocking his head to the side in confusion.
“As in… I think you’re really amazing and good with your hands, and you’re handsome, and I enjoy spending time with you,” you blurt.
“I think you’re amazing, and good with your hands, and pretty, and I enjoy spending time with you too,” he counters, echoing the entirety of your sentiment.
You stare blankly up at the man. It’s clear he doesn’t know what you’re getting at. You wonder how fairies court each other- do they even court each other? Do fairies have sex? Or are they just… you don’t know, blossomed out of flower buds or something?
“Mingyu,” you take another very deep breath, stepping closer to him. “I feel for you, in here.” You put your hand over his heart, looking up at him, searching his brown eyes for some form of recognition, of understanding.
Mingyu’s lips part, and his gaze shifts to your hand, then, he slowly places his own over yours. His palm is warm, and he squeezes you gently. “Are you saying you love me?” he asks.
You blink… it feels like he’s skipping a few steps here. You love him as a friend, and you’re attracted to him, but you’re not… in love with him, not yet anyway.
“I-” You swallow thickly and decide to just be honest. “I think… things could be heading that way, with some more time.”
“More time?” Mingyu frowns a little. “Humans can be weird.”
“We can?” you laugh. “What’s love like for you?”
“Fairies don’t do anything halfway. We feel intensely, more so than humans I think.”
“Have you…” you cough. “Have you ever been in love before?”
“No.”
“So… how do you know what you’re feeling right now is love?”
“I know it because I would do anything for you. Just being near you makes me happy. I want to protect you, and provide for you- I’d give up my wings for you. I choose you over any of my own kind, because you understand me and accept me better than my own kind. I don’t need anyone else but you.”
You don’t know what to say, so you choose not to say anything. Instead, you get on your tiptoes, pressing your lips to his own.
Mingyu freezes for a moment, but then he reciprocates, wrapping his arms around your body to pull you tight to his chest.
It’s a slow kiss, an exploratory one. It’s soft and gentle and every good thing, but you get the sense you’re going to have to lead the build-up of this. After a few kisses, you lick at his lower lip, and Mingyu responds by opening his mouth, allowing you to deepen the experience.
His hands grab your hips, and Mingyu pushes you backward until your bum hits the counter, then he lifts you onto it, prompting you to wrap your legs around his hips.
As you kiss him, there’s a small voice in the back of your mind reminding you that this is a fairy. His original form is small… but as he grinds against you, you realize that what’s inside his pants right now is anything but tiny.
God, he feels so good- and he’s already shirtless, which gives you the perfect opportunity to graze your hands along his body, teasing the muscle you find there. Mingyu shivers from the contact, breaking the kiss.
He presses his forehead against yours, breathing deeply, and you can feel his heart racing under your palm.
“Do you want to do this? Even though you don’t love me the way I love you?” He asks.
“I want this, and I do love you Mingyu, I just…”
“You need more time,” he sighs.
“I think… do you remember how you said eighty years felt fast in the box for you? I feel like, you just move faster than I do, and that’s not a bad thing, it’s just… something we have to adjust for.”
“Adjust how?” Mingyu questions, looking down at you as his hands grip your hips harder.
You shrug. “Maybe you’ll just have to be patient with me.”
“Do I have to wait to say ‘I love you’ since you’re waiting?”
You smile up at him. “You can do anything that feels right, Mingyu.”
“This feels right,” Mingyu muses, pulling you closer to the edge of the table so he can grind his denim-clad cock against your core.
“Then do this,” you whisper, cupping his cheek and drawing his lips back to yours.
Mingyu doesn’t fight it, in fact, he melts into the kiss, and then, his hands are grabbing your thighs and he’s lifting you up.
You grip his strong shoulders, releasing a small squeal of shock- but you refuse to break the kiss as he begins to carry you through your cottage. He knows where your bedroom is, and it’s sweet that he wants your first time to be on an actual mattress- you’d half expected him to bend you over in your kitchen and have his way with you right there, but you suppose that’s not really his style.
You still have so much more to learn about Mingyu, and you’re excited to take your time learning it.
Mingyu lays you down gently on your bed, and his lips move to your throat. His hands find yours, and your fingers intertwine as he sucks on your sweet spot, making you moan and writhe against the bed beneath him.
“Fuck,” you groan, brows furrowing from the pleasure already coursing through you.
Mingyu grins against your throat, and then he begins to descend.
You’re wearing a sleeping shirt and boxers, and Mingyu’s hand is sneaking up the oversized fabric. “Can I take this off you?” he asks, pulling away and swallowing thickly, his gaze fixed on your covered chest.
You nod, but instead of forcing him to do it, you push on your wrist confines, prompting Mingyu to let you go so you can sit up, tearing the shirt off. You’re not wearing a bra, and Mingyu’s pupils blow at the sight.
He leans down, pressing his lips to yours again as he helps you back down to the bed. You relax against the duvet, enjoying the sensation of your bare chests rubbing against each other. Your nipples are pebbled from interest, and each brush of him against you feels like magic, especially when he begins to swivel his hips, grinding down against your pussy.
His mouth begins to move down again, and this time, there’s no fabric to stop him in his tracks. Mingyu’s lips wrap around your nipple, your fingers threading through his hair as you fight the urge to arch your back and moan like a whore in heat.
“Feels good,” you tell him, earning a groan from the large man who sucks on your pebbled bud even harder.
His free hand is on your hip, but soon, it’s rising to massage your neglected breast. His warm palm feels so good- your eyes close in pleasure, your body reacting to Mingyu and the foreplay he’s providing.
You thread your fingers deeper into his curls, gently massaging his scalp while he works you up, teasing you in the best possible way.
He’s clearly solely focused on you, you don’t think there’s an ulterior motive, a motive of getting you to beg or forcing you to wait, you think he’s simply enjoying you, and you love the feeling of being enjoyed in this way.
Even so- now it’s your patience that’s running thin, and you tug at his curls, forcing his mouth away from your breast. He looks up at you with confusion, lips parting in a silent question.
“I need you,” you tell him, swallowing thickly.
“You have me,” he assures you with a laugh.
“I mean-”
His hand slips between your thighs, rubbing your pussy through your boxers. “You mean, you need me here,” Mingyu finishes for you.
Fuck, he’s so hot- part of you had expected him to be a virgin fairy who’s never been in love, but it’s clear from his dirty talk that he’s no virgin.
Your pussy is wet, and you can feel a wet spot to match in your shorts, you’re sure Mingyu can feel it too.
“Since…” Mingyu takes a breath, and you can see his skin beginning to flush a pretty shade of pink, “since I’m the one who likes you more, maybe you’ll let me take my time and do what I want to do? Out of… pity?”
You laugh. “Pity? I don’t pity you- I kind of love you, Gyu, I said that-”
“Just kind of, though,” he points out, leaning down to bite your nipple gently.
You groan, arching your back and taking a deep breath. “Fine. Do whatever you want to me. Take your time. Worship me. Make me fall in love with you.”
Mingyu smiles, and then he whispers a soft, “Thank you,” before diving back toward your chest.
It’s clear that now that you’ve given him permission, he’s in no rush.
He worships your breasts, just like you’d told him to, taking all the time he wants to massage and lick and kiss and bite- and then, one of his hands returns between your legs, pushing your boxers to the side so he can access your dripping pussy.
He’s gentle at first, circling your sensitive clit and teasing your slit up and down. Then, after too much teasing for your tastes, he eases his finger into your tight hole. He’s gentle as he begins to finger fuck you, working you open at a snail's pace-
You think, as someone who time moves fast for, he really must be savoring every long moment of this. He wants to take his time with you, and for a fairy, that means something.
Mingyu’s lips are still wrapped around your nipple, and as he adds a second digit to your core, you think you might just combust.
“Gyu,” you whimper.
He hums in response.
“I’m close,” you tell him, beginning to wiggle your hips against his hand. “I’m so close-”
Mingyu’s palm finds your clit, and he finger fucks you harder, crooking his digits to reach a spot that has your toes curling.
“Oh my god-” you groan, closing your eyes and latching onto Mingyu’s hair as an anchor, keeping his face buried in your tits as he works you closer and closer to the edge-
One graze of his teeth across your nipple has you cumming on his fingers, and Mingyu releases his own sound of pleasure to echo the whimpers escaping your lips.
He’s got you pinned to the bed, there’s nowhere to go, nothing to do except take what he’s giving you.
He works you through your high, allowing you to feel every lick of pleasure as it courses through your entire body-
You’re a gasping mess at the end of it, and Mingyu gingerly removes his fingers from your pussy, pulling away from your chest to sit up on his knees, licking his digits clean as he inspects you carefully.
“Are you okay, my star?”
You shiver at the nickname, a whispered echo of your pleasure running through you.
“Yeah,” you nod, still trying to catch your breath.
“Was that good for you?” he asks, teasing his wet finger across your nipple and making you shiver again. “It was good for me.”
“It was so good,” you groan, shifting against the bed.
“Good.” Mingyu hooks his fingers in your boxers, tearing them down your legs.
You’re now completely bare for him, and you expect Mingyu to work on his jeans next, but he doesn’t. He lays down between your thighs, looking up at you as he peppers your skin with chaste kisses.
“Ready for more?” he questions.
You groan, and the groan turns into a laugh. “I guess I told you to do whatever you want to me,” you sigh, adjusting your legs so your feet are flat and your knees are bent, giving him better access to your pussy for what you know is about to come next.
“You did.” Mingyu’s breath is hot against your still pulsing core, and you grab at the duvet in preparation, knowing he’s about to completely rock your world for a second time.
Mingyu doesn’t say anything else, he continues to kiss up your thigh, and he doesn’t stop. When he reaches your core, he licks your clit gently, circling it.
You open your eyes, looking down at him to find his own lids are closed. He’s completely focused on pleasuring you, and as he pushes his tongue into your core, lapping at your slit- well, fuck, no thoughts are going through your mind.
You can only whimper, grabbing the duvet tighter, your toes curling deliciously as this man eats you out in a way that no man ever has.
He really is taking his time. It’s clear this isn’t just a duty or a ‘task’ he has to complete in order to fuck you, no, eating you out is as much his pleasure as it is yours, and somehow, that knowledge makes it even better.
You give yourself to the pleasure. There’s no anxiety, no racing thoughts, or pressures you’re imposing on yourself.
You know there’s not a time limit. Mingyu’s not eager to make you cum so he can fuck you, he’s simply enjoying the act of licking your pussy- so you simply enjoy it too.
You’re not keeping track of time, your focus is solely on the pleasure running through you, and the way it’s building.
Soon, you’re at the edge again, and you warn Mingyu, your thighs twitching around his head.
Mingyu groans in response, lips wrapping around your clit. A squeal escapes you, your chest heaving, back arching off the bed as your second orgasm slams into you.
This one is even more electric than the first, and it almost feels like you’re floating off the mattress- like you’re truly ascending to cloud nine, as if you - like Mingyu - have wings.
God, there’s not a feeling like it in the world, especially as Mingyu continues to suck your clit, working you through the most intense high of your entire life. Your legs are fully quaking around him now, your grip like a vice on the duvet.
Thank God you live in the middle of nowhere because you’re aware that you’re being loud.
Mingyu’s groaning too, his fingers digging into your thighs, keeping you pinned and in place for him to eat you through the pussy contracting pleasure convulsions that are threatening to overtake your entire body in an ecstasy you’ve never, ever experienced before.
The large man finally lets up, and you gasp, flopping back down against the bed. There are aftershocks of pleasure, and you jolt a little, goosebumps erupting on your flesh from the sensation.
You feel the bed shift, and you look from under heavy lids to see Mingyu standing at the foot of the mattress, finally taking off his jeans.
Fuck, he’s huge- maybe foreplay wasn’t so much of a want, as a necessity.
“You still want me?” Mingyu asks, joining you on the bed again, his breath hot against your throat as he grinds down against you, teasing his cock against your dripping pussy.
“Fuck, I need you,” you tell him.
Mingyu kisses you then, grabbing your hands and putting them above your head. He collects your wrists in one grip, and with his free hand, he grabs his cock, lining it up with your core.
“If it hurts-”
“You’ve made me cum twice,” you tell him, “I’m pretty sure I’ll be okay.”
“Whatever you say, my star,” he grins, pressing his lips to yours as he pushes the head of his cock into your tight, wet hole.
You groan desperately, struggling against his grip on your wrists, but Mingyu doesn’t let up. In fact, he tightens his hold on you, pushing his cock even deeper into your core.
The sounds you’re making are feral as he kisses you, his lips and tongue are hot against your own in the most delicious way.
You can feel your pussy stretching to accommodate for his girth, and when his hips are finally flush against your own, you think this might just be the most full you’ve ever felt in your entire life.
Mingyu breaks the kiss, panting and looking down at you. “You feel perfect,” he whispers.
“You feel perfect,” you counter, feeling a little dim with your repetition of his own works back to him, but also too fucked out to think of anything better.
He only grins, drawing his lips to yours. It’s a gentler kiss as he begins to fuck you, his motions slow so you can acclimatize to the massive cock that’s already rearranging your guts.
You get lost in him, and there’s a kind of safety in having your hands pinned down above your head. You can’t quite explain it- maybe it’s just a size kink? You can’t have a bondage kink, can you? Does Mingyu even know what bondage is? Do fairies watch porn?
You push the thoughts from your head, focusing on the cock that’s dragging against your sensitive inner walls.
Soon, you’re moaning loudly again, and Mingyu finally lets up on your wrists. “I kind of…” he swallows thickly, thrusts faltering, “I kind of want you to ride me when you cum.”
“You do?”
“I’ve… well, I know I’ve been a little rough-”
“You haven’t been rough,” you assure him.
“I just mean, the first two times you came, I did what I wanted, and I want you to be in control for this last one, don’t want to overstimulate you.”
It’s a soft idea, and you nod up at him. “I’ll ride you.”
“Good.” Mingyu kisses you gently, and then the two of you are adjusting.
He lays flat as you swing your leg over his hip, grabbing his cock to line it up with your core so you can slowly sink down on him.
Mingyu groans, his hands settling on your hips to help you be gentle as you come to a fully seated position on his cock.
“You look so perfect like this, my star,” he tells you, one free hand moving up to grab your breast, massaging it gently and pinching at your nipple.
“Think you can cum with me, Gyu?” you ask, beginning to bounce.
You watch Mingyu’s lips part in concentration, his gaze fixed on your chest. He’s clearly in a daze, and it’s adorable. “I’ll cum with you,” he whispers. “You’re so beautiful.”
“You’re quite handsome yourself,” you smile.
Mingyu’s ears turn pink first, and it’s so endearing to watch the massive man flush from a compliment as you’re riding his cock.
God, he is a perfect man, isn’t he?
“I think… I think I was made to be found by you,” Mingyu says, looking up at you with eyes full of adoration. “I don’t know what I’d do If I never met you.”
“Gyu,” you coo, slowing your thrusts. Mingyu sits up, allowing you to pull him to your chest, cradling him to your breast as your fingers stroke through his hair.
“I do love you,” he continues. “And… it’s okay if you don’t love me the same way yet. I know it’s fast, even for me, but… yeah.”
“It’s fast, but that’s okay. You don’t have to hide yourself from me,” you tell him, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head.
“You don’t have to hide from me either,” Mingyu promises.
He lays back down flat, and you move with him, your chests pressed together as you ride his cock, groaning into his ear.
Mingyu’s hands are warm on your hips, and he steadies you, beginning to thrust up to meet your movements.
You both release sounds of pleasure, and you can feel your hearts racing together in your chests as they remain pressed to each other.
You’re tired, but you’re also eager to cum again, so you push through, closing your eyes and focusing on the pleasure instead of the increasing burn in your thighs.
“Are you close?” Mingyu pants in your ear. “I’m close.”
His sounds are like magic, and they help drag you to join Mingyu on the edge. “I’m close,” you confirm, swallowing thickly.
“Can we cum together?”
“Yeah,” you whimper, muscles clenching in preparation.
Mingyu fucks up into you even harder, and you put all of your energy into carrying this out, into riding this man until you pass out from how good everything is about to feel.
He releases another grunt, and you press your lips to his own, which is all it takes for you to both fall over the edge together.
You feel like you’re flying again, it’s almost an out-of-body pleasure-fueled experience, but this time, Mingyu’s with you, and you know you’ll be safe with the man who knows how to navigate the skies.
He cradles you to his chest, keeping his cock buried as deep as it can go in your core. You’re both kissing each other desperately, shaking and contracting from orgasms that continue to surge through you. Your hearts are racing together, and you’re both trying to catch your breaths even in the midst of a passionate kiss.
Everything just feels so right, and natural.
It’s as if your body was made to do this, with Mingyu especially.
Soon, your orgasms are subsiding, and you’re simply kissing now.
Mingyu holds you close, not letting you go until he’s good and satisfied.
You take a deep breath, breaking the kiss to look down at him. “So…”
“So,” he grins.
“So… I guess this changes our arrangement a little?”
Mingyu laughs, holding you tighter. “Does this mean I don’t have to sleep in the dollhouse anymore?”
You find yourself chuckling too, and the contraction it causes of your pussy around Mingyu’s cock makes him groan desperately, his hand pushing on the small of your back.
“You don’t have to sleep in the dollhouse.”
“I meant it when I said I’d give up my wings for you,” Mingyu muses, turning serious as he looks up at you.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“The future-”
“Is something we can talk about later,” you assure him. “Right now, I just want to enjoy you.”
“I guess… I guess we can do that,” Mingyu concedes. His arms wrap tighter around you, securing you down against his chest. He tucks you under his chin, releasing a deep breath, and that’s where you fall asleep, completely content with your blue-collared, human-sized, fairy lover.
☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! we all need a domestic blue collar man who's obsessed with us and wants to build our dream house for us ✨MANIFESTING IT💅
🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below!
🔮 preview. “I’m happy where I am… but, when you cum, I’ll let you warm up while I fuck you stupid.” Mingyu never used to swear. He used to call sex ‘making love’ and something about it had made you uncomfortable in some weird way- so your soft lover has taken to using profanity for your own benefit, and you can’t help the way your body reacts to the term ‘fuck you stupid.’
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, size kink, worship, Mingyu is a boobs guy, nipple play, fingering, pussy stretching, foreplay, multiple reader orgasms, hand job, shower sex, praise, dirty talk, etc… I pet names: (hers) my star. (his) Gyu.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.7k I teaser wc. 175
🌙 starring. Mingyu x afab!Reader
bonus
It’s summer, and you’re more in love than ever. Mingyu’s made you rethink what it is to live in your cottage. He’s done everything in his power to make it your dream home, and his latest upgrade is a small rowboat that he’d handcrafted with the purpose of meandering around your pond.
You can’t stop smiling and giggling as Mingyu rows you around, the sunlight kissing his skin in the most beautiful way. He’s so gorgeous, and his soul is just as stunning.
Every day is a dream with him… but there are still things on your mind, things you need to discuss.
“Mingyu?” you ask, drawing his attention away from his haphazard rowing.
“Yes, my star?” he pauses to look at you, setting down the oars to give you his complete, and undivided attention.
“I’m just… I’m thinking.”
“That’s not always the best sign,” Mingyu teases. “Thinking about what?”
“Just… we’ve been together a while now, and, I guess I’m starting to look at the future more, and I’m not really sure how to envision it.”
☀️ to read the full fic AND 2.7k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here
👹 or check out what else is on my patreon here
🔮if nothing strikes your fancy, check out my��m.list
general taglist
@gotshinct - @subhyuck - @fraechan - @learnthisfeeling
@runahways - @d-abin - @milkteade - @woogyuhae
@anothershorthuman - @nihxxy - @vantxx95 - @bangshii
@poutypoutybin - @notbeforelong - @creepybakeoven
@ninetechculture - @yungiland - @suhsfam - @binchangf
@chogiwapadada - @librarian-stacks - @meowniee
@learnthisfeeling - @gigilame - @cumtrov3rsy
@mocha000 - @darthlunaa - @just-here-to-read-01 - @shiningnono
@lovelyhan - @grilledbananas - @sourkimchi
svt taglist
@candidupped - @cheolussy - @aaniag - @imprettyweird
@xcynthiaaa
thanks to those who interacted with the teaser!
@jowanivernon - @syluslittlecrows - @blspphr3 40
@luvseungcheol - @woofie-nctzen-fanarts - @peachfulnight
@ninigyuuu - @simpxxstan - @dreamingofpcy - @gyuminusone
@roseandpeaches - @cherrychaereblogs - @yeosangteef
#mingyu#svthub#thediamondlifenetwork#mingyu smut#kim mingyu#kim mingyu smut#svt#svt smut#seventeen#seventeen smut#mingyu svt#svt mingyu#mingyu svt smut#svt mingyu smut#mingyu x reader#kim mingyu x reader
209 notes
·
View notes
Text
‼️‼️‼️ Fernie interrupted?! Noooooo!!!!
This entire reblog is making me giggle and kick my little feet, Fern! You have no idea how happy it makes me!
I love that this masterpiece came from our feral musings in the middle of the night while you were taking a break from studying, tbh. IMHO, everyone deserves a Daddy Jake to entice them into studying just a little more. If I could, I would send you a Jake to pamper you into studying so you can be my nurse sister-wife instead of my nurse-to-be sister wife a little sooner! (School sucks, but you've got this, Baby!)
Blue is 100% having a moment on deck. I mean, what else could she do when her hubby undressed her, touched her so teasingly and then left? She thought, "turnabout is fair play" and is having a ball teasing the teaser that Jake is. It does backfire on her a little though, because Jake still wins. By dropping her off of the side of the yacht.
I couldn't resist that bit. Because Jake would be just that playful with his girl. And the leaving his girl wet and wanting line? 🥵🥵🥵 I nearly combusted just writing it. And then all the cock dumb bits? I just. I just needed them viscerally in that moment.
Basically, long story short, you and me Fernie, we need to do a little bit more late night brainstorming because I've loved everything I've written after one of those sessions. They're all smut because we're insatiable, but that's ok, right?
Money, Money, Money
Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader
Sequel to Mm, Daddy, Daddy.
Description: Your life has been completely changed since you fell in love with Jake Seresin. For one, you've never been to Monaco before, and you've never set foot on a yacht before either. But with Jake, you're ready for anything, even if your afternoon becomes a little spicier than first expected.
Disclaimer: Female Reader, Slight BDSM, Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby Relationship. This is also very clearly an AU! In this universe, Jake is a high flying, jet-setting lawyer, a very successful one.
This is a story completely full of adult elements. It is for adults 18+ only. Minors Do Not Interact.
Word Count: 2117
Author Note: So, if you've all read Mm, Daddy, Daddy, you'll know exactly why this thought had such a foothold on me. I had to write a sequel. This one is for @desert-fern and @mayhemmanaged .
The title for this fic comes from ABBA's Money, Money, Money
AO3: Cross-posted here!
My Masterlist
How is this your life? It's a question you've asked yourself since you found yourself in a happy, committed relationship with Jake Seresin. Over the past four years of being with Jake, loving Jake, you've fallen even deeper in love with him every day. He's been your biggest supporter. In fact, you know for sure you never would have graduated from graduate school, not without him. You know that his contacts helped in your career too. It's surprising how many people Jake knows on the board of directors of Marine Biology labs. But more than anytime you wonder at the turns your life has taken, no day has been as surreal as today.
When Jake asked you to marry him, you'd been ecstatic, if a little nervous. It's not the glitz and glam of his life as a high profile lawyer. You've been ancillary to the glitz and glam of his high fashion world for as long as you've known him. It's that in four years, you've never once met his family. You didn't either until the week of your wedding. But over expensive champagne and expensive hor d'oeuvres, your family and his were united as were Jake and you. That very night you'd flown via private jet to Monaco, where Jake's yacht was waiting.
The midday sun is hot and incredibly bright from behind your eyelids as you lay on your stomach and soak in the rays. Every inch of you, from the roots of your hair to the tips of your toes, is soaked in moisture. Sweat prickles at the backs of your knees and the crooks of your elbows, sliding down your back to pool at the base of your spine as it mixes with the sunscreen coating your skin. You would nearly be asleep, like a cat in a patch of sun, if you weren't putting on a deliberate show in your completely untied skimpy bright blue bikini.
You'd started wearing a cover-up over your bikini, one of Jake's t-shirts teasingly buttoned over your navel, as you'd laid out on a lounge on the yacht's deck. But back to you and your blue bikini. The shade is a near-perfect shade match for the Sapphire adorning your left-hand ring finger. So about half an hour after you'd laid out in the sun, off the shirt came.
"Blue, baby! That's an awful lot of exposed skin. Do you need a reapplication of sunscreen?" After that comment, you weren’t surprised to feel Jake’s skin against yours.
Jake smirked at you before covering your lips in a kiss. Everything had stayed chaste until his hands began spreading sunscreen across your skin. His hands were teasingly gentle as he untied your bikini strap across your back and then the strap at the back of your neck.
"Jakey!" You gasped, trying to push his hands away. "There are a ton of yachts around, aren't there?"
"You've got nothing to worry about, baby." His words and hot kisses down your spine made you shudder. "We're all alone out here. And we're in Europe, baby. A little nudity is de rigueur!"
A moan masked any further protests as Jake's big hot hands freed you from your bikini bottoms. Jake had massaged your skin with the lotion, keeping his touches just light enough to have your skin goose-pimpling in need without giving you any release. Then he'd left, retreating to the wheel with a ridiculous white captain's hat perched on his head.
That's when you'd decided that turnabout was fair play. It's not an accident that the lounge chair you're on is right in view of the wheel. You start by sitting up and stretching, exaggerating the actions and how your tits jiggle with each movement. You can't read Jake's expression from behind his mirrored lenses, but you know he's only looking at you. But you hadn’t done anything else, choosing to lay in the sun again, leading you to this moment. You’ve been lying bare in the sun for nearly an hour now.
You turn over, reaching for the bottle of sunscreen and squirting some between your palms. The rich scent of coconut and hibiscus hangs heavy in the air as you warm the sticky lotion in your hot hands. You loll your head to the side, keeping direct eye contact with your husband as you cup your heavy breasts in your hands. You slather the lotion carelessly over your tits, pausing to tweak your nipples until your areolas are pebbled, and your nipples are peaked even in the hot, heavy afternoon air.
With more lotion, you let your hands trail teasingly lower. You trace abstract patterns across the meat of your thighs, keeping direct eye contact as you part your thighs teasingly. Each swipe draws your fingers even closer to the apex, your dripping core aching for more stimulation than you've gotten. That's the final straw for your husband, it seems.
Soundtracked by a bitten-off curse, you hear the yacht motor silence and the heavy tread of footsteps as Jake makes his way down to the deck where you are. Dragging your sunglasses off, you turn until you're lying on your stomach in the lounge again. You cross your legs at the ankle, alluringly flexing the muscles as you peek at your husband.
"Heya, Cowboy!" You can't help how teasing your voice is. "See something you like?"
His groan sends heat boiling beneath your grin. "Oh, Baby Blue. Yeah, I think I do. D'you want me to show you how much?"
"I dunno, Mr. Seresin. I mean," You turn over again, taking a deep breath that has your chest heaving. "I put on this pretty little bikini and came here for someone special. But my husband, I dunno if you've seen him, just got me all hot and bothered, wet and wanting, without doing anything about it!"
As the final words leave your lips, you arch your back, pushing your tits into the palms of your hands, and smile sunnily up at him. His resulting growl has your legs falling apart automatically as Jake drags his shirt off and covers your body with his own. His kiss is wet and messy as he slants his mouth over yours and plunders your plush lips. Your arms wrap around his neck as you wriggle under him, trying and failing to get more stimulation.
It's a sharp smack to the meat of your ass that has your movements stalling.
"Oh, baby. Blue, my gorgeous bride. D'you want to show me how wet you are?" Jake's teeth drag bluntly over your pulse as his hands find purchase at your hips. His hands find no resistance as he levers your thighs apart, just far enough to have your legs wrap easily around his slim waist.
Your lips part in a drawn-out moan as Jake's hands find your peaked nipples. "I'm so wet for you, baby. I've been wet for you since you put sunscreen on me."
Jake kisses you long and deep before burying one of his fingers in your wet heat. But they’re not there for long because you’re vertical as Jake bodily moves you across the deck in one swift movement. For one fond moment, you hope Jake’s taking you to the bed below deck. But you’re wrong. Because in a few big steps, Jake’s dropping you over the side of the yacht.
The water is frigid in comparison to the heat of your skin, and you can’t hide how your teeth chatter as you come up for air. A splash nearly drags you under again as Jake cannonballs into the water beside you. You come up spluttering, your eyes screwed shut against the salty sea water while blindly groping for Jake. At the first bit of his skin, you make contact with, you pull yourself closer. As you wrap your arms and legs around Jake, you’re sure you more closely resemble a drowned bear cub wrapped around a tree than a human woman.
“YOU ASS!” Your voice is high-pitched as you blink away the last droplets burning your eyes and glare at your husband.
“I’m sorry, Baby. I just wanted to take you skinny dipping.” You can feel his pout as he wraps his arms around your waist and kisses your spine.
“Just want me, Jakey! I’m all wet now.” Your pout is only half sincere as you stand dripping on the deck as Jake wraps a terry cloth robe around your frame.
“But, Baby, didn’t you know? It was a hidden part of my vows, promising that I’d always keep you wet and never keep you wanting." You laugh despite yourself, wrapping your arms around Jake's neck as you press kisses to his salty lips.
He's grinning himself even as he lifts you again, this time carrying you below deck. Jake presses you against the wall, kissing down your throat as he frees you from the robe. His tongue is hot as it traces over your skin. The heat under your skin rises to a fever pitch as Jake drops to his knees in front of you.
His hands part your thighs with no resistance, even as his tongue delves between your dripping folds. Each wet lick has you writhing even as Jake's forearm keeps you propped against the wall. Jake drags your leg up over his shoulder, opening you up further before he plunges two fingers into your drooling cunt and wraps his lips around your swollen clit.
The first wet suck has you writhing even further, digging your fingers into his hair. You tug on the wet strands, writhing under the steel bands of Jake's forearm as his fingers and mouth work your over with such alacrity that the band tightening in your gut is nearly ready to snap.
"Jake, Jake, Jake!" You're babbling already, back arching at the onslaught of sensations he's wrecking on your body. "Gonna cum, baby please! I'm gonna cum. Please can I cum, Daddy please?"
It's calling Jake Daddy that seems to set him off. His fingers grow more insistent within your wet cunt as the suctioning press of his lips drags your orgasm out of you. You cum with a scream, your back arching even as you gush over his fingers. When Jake slips up to pull you into his arms, your release coats his lips and drips down your neck. You clean him up willingly, sucking on his tongue even as you dip your fingers below the waistband of your husband's swim trunks to grip his thick cock.
"Gonna make you feel so good, my beautiful Blue. Gonna make you feel amazing. Gonna impale you on my cock until Daddy stuffs you full of his cum." You moan, relishing in the feeling of his skin on yours.
"Can you get on all fours for me, Baby?" Daddy's voice is a purr as he manhandles you onto the bed. His mouth is hot even as he sucks hickies over you bare back before he plunges his cock into your waiting hole. You can feel every inch of his length as it drives you wild, fucking into you until each sharp thrust sings through your veins.
"D-daddy!" Your skin is so sensitive that you feel spread thin and achingly horny. Your cunt aches, wanting to cum desperately. It doesn't feel at all like you just came minutes before. You feel like you need to cum like you need to breathe.
Your skin feels overly tight and you're so overcome that you're like a ragdoll in Jake's arms. "Please let me cum. Please! PLEASE!"
Daddy just won't let you cum, content to fuck into your sopping cunt until you're completely cock dumb. Your cunt is swollen around his length, your walls fluttering involuntarily at each thrust.
"D-DADDY!" You cum with a scream, your back arched as Jake tweaks your peaked nipples. Your orgasm sets Jake off on his own, his seed gushing hot as it fills your puffy cunt.
Jake carefully peppers kisses across your shoulders as he rearranges you to your side.
"Baby." His kisses are soft as he nuzzles over your skin.
"J-Jakey!" You turn over, whining as Jake's cock slips out of you. You're panting, even as exhaustion drips hypnotically through your veins.
"God I love you, baby." Jake sounds so fond of you, so in love with you as he slides his cock back into your sloppy hole.
You pepper wet kisses across his chest before nuzzling in closer. "Gonna make you a Daddy before long, Jakey. I love you."
His smile is the last thing you see before your eyes slip closed, content to enjoy a midday nap to the feeling of your husband's wedding band sliding over your skin.
Taglist:
@desert-fern 🥰 @mayhemmanaged 🥰 @cassiemitchell 🥰 @thedroneranger 🥰 @cherrycola27 🥰 @roosterforme 🥰 @dakotakazansky 🥰 @bobby-r2d2-floyd 🥰 @sarahsmi13s 🥰 @lovinglyeternal 🥰 @lovingbradshawafterdark 🥰 @mamaskillerqueen 🥰 @chaoticassidy 🥰 @kmc1989 🥰
I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.
#star writes#top gun fanfic#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick fanfic#top gun maverick fanfiction#money money money#jake hangman seresin x reader#hangman x reader#jake seresin x reader#ex sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship#arrangement to love#star loves fern#so much#mwah#baby blue is you#i hope you love her as much as i do
106 notes
·
View notes
Text
thinkin abt having a lil family with nerd!armin...
armin screams girl dad but...he isn't one and instead he has a son who is a spitting image of him. blonde hair, blue eyes, he has everything and sometimes you joke that armin might as well have made your son himself from how they look so similar! but...armin hates when you say that.
because he hates his son to put it nicely. well he doesn't hate him but he despises the things that he does...like cuddling all up to you so you'd give him your undivided attention leaving armin out of the moment. he shouldn't get mad because after all, his son is practically him but littler, clinging to you at any chance, wanting your attention all the time and wanting you to hear about what he was talking about.
that was all armin did but he couldn't really do that when his son was doing it all for him!! he hoped to have a bit more luck with the next kid who he hoped was a girl, though despite that, he loved his little family and he loved how you all interacted with each other. sometimes you'd walk in late at night out of your sleep and see the two blondes awake on the couch watching star wars and your son is telling armin to be quiet while armin is just ranting about the movies while trying his best not to spoil it...
sometimes armin would walk in on you and your son in the kitchen and you're giving him little tastes of foods that you like but he's never tried before. he loves to watch how your son giggles happily at how yummy the food taste! but armin and your favorite moments in your little family are when you all are together sitting on the couch doing anything.
most of the time, armin would be telling you about some kid show that your son likes because of him and it'd turn into a rant with your son adding on small details that his father missed as you just listened. "so finn has this kind of clone made out of grass–" "his name is fern!" armin looks at your son who is snuggled into your side while his head is buried into your tummy, he smiles with a chuckle "yeah i forgot, he's fern." you just giggled at how your son smiled brightly at armin's acknowledgment of his favorite character (projecting a bit here...) he was so cute.
your boyfriend's eyes went to you and he gently wiggled your arm "you listening baby?" he asked and you quickly nodded "yeah, i'm listening 'min. keep going." armin grinned and nodded before continuing his rant on adventure time which he had introduced to his son about a week ago, you thought you'd never hear the end of this. they probably knew more than the actual show creators.
you just love your little family, even if they're nerds.
©torasplanet .ᐟ reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!
#torasplanet.ᐟ#marls-drabbles.ᐟ#aot x reader#armin arlert#nerd armin#armin arlert x reader#◛⑅·˚armin;p#sorry ive been inactive
136 notes
·
View notes
Note
She walks in beauty, like the night
Scully in the simplest, blackest silk. Scully pale, moon-kissed, vulnerable. Scully’s hair and eyes like where the stars are born.
***
Scully comes to him when even the moon is all but asleep, like a single calla lily from a secret admirer. Unbidden. Unexpected.
Unparalleled.
“Mulder,” she says, outside his open door, in a negligee that last shade of sky blue before it goes pitch black.
Spaghetti straps and a low décolletage, though not shockingly low. Lace trim, mid thigh. It looks like something Katharine Hepburn would wear to slap you.
Not you. Him.
Specifically him.
She looks up at him through her heavy-lashed, heavy-lidded eyes.
He stares at her for his own sake because deep in his 12 year old heart, no one would ever, ever, believe that nerdy Fox Muld-
Scully takes another step closer onto the sad oatmeal carpet of his hotel room. She has such pretty ankles, she has such pretty calves. She smells like honeysuckle and hot bike tires and buttery lobster rolls and the sweetest, purest moments of his life.
She tips her face up to him, Agent Scully does, all eyes and lips and cheekbones like a geometric proof.
“God,” he says. And he means it.
***
LA belongs to the sun and Scully is a San Diego baby but he knows, he knows, she is an East Coast girl at heart. He knows she loves the first retinal purple-orange sunrises of America and the first sapphire kisses of night. He knows she loves the stars by which her father learned to navigate. He knows she loves the distant moon.
He knows she loves blue crabs and wool duffel coats and khaki shorts and aspires to East Hampton in her most secret, silent heart.
One day he will make love to her in London because she will, he knows, hark to the call of the City. She is a creature of old stone and lichen and liminal space.
She is the answer to Samson’s riddle.
***
He’d rented a jet black ‘57 Chevy Bel Air because Christ, this girl. Abductions and cancer and the most awful brutality and stolen ova and Christ; this brilliant, moonbeam girl.
She sees the car and she says nothing. But her eyes, her eyes. Her Star of India eyes.
Scully sees the car and she smiles, shy. Scully squeezes his hand.
***
He fucks her - hard, desperate - in the Chevy out over Mullholland and she cries out for him because even Saint Teresa writhed in ecstasy.
He kisses her the way a mariner kisses his homeland soil because she is his human credential. He kisses her like a Torah scroll. He shudders, murmurs I love you, I love you into the hot, sweet dark of her mouth.
***
She is bleeding, just a little. She is bleeding in the warm caress of a Southern California night. She is bleeding as though she were a virgin and maybe she is; maybe there is sex and there is fucking and there is making love and there is This.
Are you there, god? It’s me, Dana.
She touches his sleeping rosebud lips. She touches his funny nose and his beautiful jaw and she doesn’t say I love you aloud like he had because she’d learned it was shameful. She’d learned to salute.
But it’s 3 AM, neither properly morning nor properly night. It’s 3 AM and she isn’t LA pretty, not by a long shot, but she’s here with him, with Mulder, who is very LA pretty and has money besides.
She’s too short and too pale and her nose is patrician rather than cute and she gets burnt instead of tan. She doesn’t laugh in the right places at movies. She likes copper because it burns green, she likes moths more than butterflies, she can quote Jane Austen’s most acerbic lines.
She thinks of Mulder swimming hard across the Vineyard tides, Mulder with his cinnamon skin in the whipped cream breakers. Riding a red fixed-gear along Lake Tashmoo, tugging his tiny sister along. Mulder basking on the beach like a young god of summer. Mulder with his heart afire like Saint Margaret Mary Alacoque.
Her father is dead and look, look Mulder has such a tender soul even if he’s Jewish and atheist, Daddy. Mulder has eyes like fern moss.
“I love you,” she says, her eyes brimming with tears, her eyes bright as the newest stars.
123 notes
·
View notes
Text
Summaries under the cut
Stardust by Neil Gaiman
Young Tristran Thorn will do anything to win the cold heart of beautiful Victoria—even fetch her the star they watch fall from the night sky. But to do so, he must enter the unexplored lands on the other side of the ancient wall that gives their tiny village its name. Beyond that old stone wall, Tristran learns, lies Faerie—where nothing not even a fallen star, is what he imagined.
Where the Red Fern Grows by Wilson Rawls
Billy, Old Dan, and Little Ann—a boy and his two dogs...
A loving threesome, they ranged the dark hills and river bottoms of Cherokee County. Old Dan had the brawn, Little Ann had the brains—and Billy had the will to train them to be the finest hunting team in the valley. Glory and victory were coming to them, but sadness waited too. And close by was the strange and wonderful power that's only found...
The Witches by Roald Dahl
This is not a fairy-tale. This is about real witches. Real witches don't ride around on broomsticks. They don't even wear black cloaks and hats. They are vile, cunning, detestable creatures who disguise themselves as nice, ordinary ladies. So how can you tell when you're face to face with one? Well, if you don't know yet you'd better find out quickly-because there's nothing a witch loathes quite as much as children and she'll wield all kinds of terrifying powers to get rid of them.
The Kane Chronicles by Rick Riordan
Since his mother's death six years ago, Carter Kane has been living out of a suitcase, traveling the globe with his father, the brilliant Egyptologist, Dr. Julius Kane. But while Carter's been homeschooled, his younger sister, Sadie, has been living with their grandparents in London. Sadie has just what Carter wants—school friends and a chance at a "normal" life. But Carter has just what Sadie longs for—time with their father. After six years of living apart, the siblings have almost nothing in common. Until now.
On Christmas Eve, Sadie and Carter are reunited when their father brings them to the British Museum, with a promise that he's going to "make things right." But all does not go according to plan: Carter and Sadie watch as Julius summons a mysterious figure, who quickly banishes their father and causes a fiery explosion.
Soon Carter and Sadie discover that the gods of Ancient Egypt are waking, and the worst of them—Set—has a frightening scheme. To save their father, they must embark on a dangerous journey—a quest that brings them ever closer to the truth about their family and its links to the House of Life, a secret order that has existed since the time of the pharaohs.
Hatchet by Gary Paulsen
Brian is on his way to Canada to visit his estranged father when the pilot of his small prop plane suffers a heart attack. Brian is forced to crash-land the plane in a lake--and finds himself stranded in the remote Canadian wilderness with only his clothing and the hatchet his mother gave him as a present before his departure.
Brian had been distraught over his parents' impending divorce and the secret he carries about his mother, but now he is truly desolate and alone. Exhausted, terrified, and hungry, Brian struggles to find food and make a shelter for himself. He has no special knowledge of the woods, and he must find a new kind of awareness and patience as he meets each day's challenges. Is the water safe to drink? Are the berries he finds poisonous?
Slowly, Brian learns to turn adversity to his advantage--an invading porcupine unexpectedly shows him how to make fire, a devastating tornado shows him how to retrieve supplies from the submerged airplane. Most of all, Brian leaves behind the self-pity he has felt about his predicament as he summons the courage to stay alive.
Island of the Blue Dolphins by Scott O'Dell
On San Nicolas Island, dolphins flash in the surrounding blue waters, sea otter play in the vast kelp beds, and sea elephants loll on the stony beaches. Here, in the early 1800s, a girl named Karana spent eighteen years alone.
Karana had to contend with the ferocious pack of wild dogs that killed her younger brother, constantly guard against Aleutian sea otter hunters, and maintain a precarious food supply. Her courage, self-reliance, and grit has inspired millions of readers in this breathtaking adventure.
Stargirl by Jerry Spinelli
Leo Borlock follows the unspoken rule at Mica Area High School: don't stand out--under any circumstances! Then Stargirl arrives at Mica High and everything changes--for Leo and for the entire school. After 15 years of home schooling, Stargirl bursts into tenth grade in an explosion of color and a clatter of ukulele music, enchanting the Mica student body.
But the delicate scales of popularity suddenly shift, and Stargirl is shunned for everything that makes her different. Somewhere in the midst of Stargirl's arrival and rise and fall, normal Leo Borlock has tumbled into love with her.
The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster
For Milo, everything’s a bore. When a tollbooth mysteriously appears in his room, he drives through only because he’s got nothing better to do. But on the other side, things seem different. Milo visits the Island of Conclusions (you get there by jumping), learns about time from a ticking watchdog named Tock, and even embarks on a quest to rescue Rhyme and Reason! Somewhere along the way, Milo realizes something astonishing. Life is far from dull. In fact, it’s exciting beyond his wildest dreams. . . .
Black Beauty by Anna Sewell
As a young horse, Black Beauty is well-loved and happy. But when his owner is forced to sell him, his life changes drastically. He has many new owners—some of them cruel and some of them kind. All he needs is someone to love him again....
Whether pulling an elegant carriage or a ramshackle cab, Black Beauty tries to live as best he can. This is his amazing story, told as only he could tell it.
Tuck Everlasting by Natalie Babbitt
Doomed to - or blessed with - eternal life after drinking from a magic spring, the Tuck family wanders about trying to live as inconspicuously and comfortably as they can. When ten-year-old Winnie Foster stumbles on their secret, the Tucks take her home and explain why living forever at one age is less a blessing that it might seem. Complications arise when Winnie is followed by a stranger who wants to market the spring water for a fortune.
#stardust#where the red fern grows#the witches#the kane chronicles#hatchet#island of the blue dolphins#stargirl#the phantom tollbooth#black beauty#tuck everlasting
101 notes
·
View notes
Text
But now she loved winter. Winter was beautiful "up back"—almost intolerably beautiful. Days of clear brilliance. Evenings that were like cups of glamour—the purest vintage of winter's wine. Nights with their fire of stars. Cold, exquisite winter sunrise. Lovely ferns of ice all over the windows of the blue castle. Moonlight on birches in a silver thaw. Ragged shadows on windy evenings-torn, twisted, fantastic shadows. The sun suddenly breaking through grey clouds over long, white mistawis. Ice-grey twilights, broken by snow-squalls, when their cosy living-room, with its goblins of firelight and inscrutable cats, seemed cosier than ever. Every hour brought a new revelation and wonder.
Lucy Maud Montgomery, The Blue Castle
357 notes
·
View notes