I was recently thinking about how cute (and hot) fairies are as a monster/fae fucker concept to me
Imagine having a fairy girlfriend or wife. She is just SO SO so so much smaller than you. Comically so some would argue. But that is just one of the reasons why you two admire each other so much. Both of you have a mutual taste for trying things out despite such different proportions. She has such a nice body for such a small size, perfectly plump and shaped tits, hips, thighs, everything you could want in a woman. And her wings are so pretty too, the way they shine and flutter when she gets flustered is a treat to watch.
Feeling her try to kiss you is oddly amazing. Either hand on the edges of your lips for support as she leans in and pecks wet little smooches in between your lips. It is especially nice when she tries to squirm her tiny little tongue into your mouth, barely reaching inside at all but far enough for your comparatively massive tongue to play with hers.
When she lays down on her back and surrenders herself to your whims, this is when things REALLY get trippy. When she gets like this her fairy magic comes into full effect, making so many things possible for both of you. Pressing the tip of your girlcock between her legs feels so strange. Realistically, you would NEVER fit even the barest inch of yourself inside her, but then you remember her magic. If she wants it, then it IS possible. Regardless of reality. Fae logic is such a weird force, but it existing is why you and her have had so much fun thus far. Lucky you. You inch your way in further and further, her pussy practically pulling you in deeper and deeper. Each inch getting tighter and tighter on your sensitive shaft. Your gock inside her barely has any outward appearance on her body past a certain point, but her screams of pleasure, her back suddenly arching, and her gritting her teeth as her eyes roll into the back of her head and her hands desperately grasping onto anything they can for dear life is evidence enough that what you’re doing is having a wonderful effect on her.
When you finally reach to the base of your gock you start to rock back and forth. It is impossibly good. Way better than any human girl you’ve felt. Her suffocating tightness beckons you to rock into her over and over again, harder and harder, her magic squeezing and milking you as if it wanted to suck out the very essence of your soul through your gock. Through spasms and twitches she starts to come, her fairy juices spraying out as you continue ramming into her. With whatever focus she has left she starts begging you to come inside of her. Not like you have a choice not to, you can never resist giving her what she wants. You let go of all inhibitions and reach climax, exploding inside of her. You shoot ropes and ropes of sticky cum directly into her womb, her tiny walls tightening around you even more as she wails and screams in utter bliss.
When the high finally ends and you slowly unsheathe yourself from her fae logic powered portal of a cunt, she is a writhing and panting mess beneath you, excess semen and juices leaking out of her rapidly. She whispers incoherently, something about how impossibly warm her whole body felt and how hot it was to feel your seed brutally invading her insides. Neither of you have any doubt that you’ve gotten her totally pregnant, though you personally are unsure whether the volume of seed a human typically shoots would impregnate one or two of a fairy’s eggs like normal or single-handedly fertilize every egg she has in her body. You try to ask her about it, her only answer being a mischievous grin and a cheeky laugh. It’s no matter really, just another thing you look forward to figuring out with her.
It’s not like this is the end of things anyway. As later in the night you hear the twinkling of her wings behind you before she gently caresses the back of your neck with a giggle.
Salt, Sunscreen, and Love (fem human oc x fem fae oc)
COMMISSIONED WORK BY ANON! Enjoy!
Pairing: fem human Erica x fem fae Cara
Summary: Erica and her fae girlfriend, Cara enjoy a perfect day at a secluded beach.
TW: SFW with implied smut, affection, established relationship, fluffy, fae magic, kissing, fun at the beach.
The jeep’s tires crunched on the gravel, coming to a stop. Erica turned the key and the engine died. The sudden silence was filled with the distant, rhythmic rush of the ocean.
She looked over at the passenger seat. Cara was already watching her. Her pointy ears gave a little twitch. A messy ponytail held up hair the color of dark honey, streaked with gold.
“See?” Cara said, her voice a sing-song. “Told you, boo. No one ever comes out here. It’s ours. All ours.”
“You and your secret spots,” Erica laughed. She pushed her door open.
Morning air hit her. Salty, clean, warm. She grabbed the big canvas bag from the back. It was stuffed with towels, all types of sunscreen, and the sandwiches Cara had made that morning.
Cara slid out of the jeep. She stretched her arms high above her head. The morning sun made her skin look like it was dusted with gold. Unlike her, Erica was freckled and prone to burning. She turned pink even on cloudy days.
That was why she’d already coated herself in sunscreen. And over it all, she wore the lightweight jacket Cara had made for her, woven with fae magic to soften the sun’s rays. Erica never went without it. It was protection, yes—but more than that, it was her girlfriend’s care.
“Come on, boo!” Cara called out, already heading toward a narrow path that cut through the dunes.
Erica hurried after her, her sneakers slipping in the sand. They pushed through tall grasses, and then the cove opened up in front of them. A perfect little curve of pale sand, hugged by dark rocks. The water was so clear and calm it looked unreal.
Not a soul in sight.
“Okay,” Erica said, dropping her bag onto the dry sand. “You win. This is stupidly perfect.”
Cara just grinned. That grin that made the corners of her eyes crinkle. She grabbed the hem of her thin cotton dress and pulled it off over her head. Underneath was a sexy green bikini. It looked amazing on her. Erica followed, tugging at her striped tankini. Cara watched without shame. Erica blushed under her gaze.
“First things first,” Cara said, snatching Erica’s hand. “Water test.”
They walked to where the damp sand met the foam. The ocean slid over their feet, cold for a second, then refreshing. Cara hooked her pinky with Erica’s. They walked ankle-deep.
“It’s colder than it looks,” Erica muttered, watching the water swirl around her ankles.
“Is it?” Cara grinned and gave a tiny, almost invisible nod toward a wave that was sliding back out.
The next little swell that rolled in didn’t seem so little. It curled deliberately and washed right up over Erica’s calves.
Erica yelped. “Hey!”
“What? It’s just the ocean. It has a mind of its own.” But Cara couldn’t hold back her smile. A guilty, charming smile that gave her away completely.
“You’re a menace… A beautiful, bratty one.”
They walked for a while in comfortable quiet, just gulls and the shush of the sea. Then they waded in deeper. The water was cool and lovely. They floated, they splashed, they hugged in the soft waves. Cara kissed Erica’s shoulder. Erica kissed Cara’s wet cheek.
It was nice. Freeing. Relaxing.
When they turned back toward their stuff, the sun was higher, hotter.
“Alright, sun-worshipper,” Erica said, rummaging in her bag. She pulled out sunscreen. “You might not bake like I do, but I’m not taking chances. Turn around.”
“I don’t burn, you know. I bask. I glow.”
“You’ll glow bright red if I don’t do this. Humor me.” Erica squeezed a big blob of lotion into her palm.
Cara sat close, her skin luminous under the sun. Erica began at her face, careful not to miss her pointed ears, then down her shoulders, working the lotion in slow circles. She felt muscle shift under her hands, the bumps of Cara’s spine. Her thumbs swept along her collarbones, over the tops of her breasts.
Cara hummed. “Okay. I see the appeal of this ritual.”
“Your skin is so soft, hun,” Erica said, taking her time. She massaged the lotion into every inch of Cara’s back, down to the dip where her bikini bottom sat. Her fingers traced lazy patterns. She couldn’t help it. She brushed Cara’s hair over one shoulder. She leaned in and pressed a light kiss there.
When Erica was done (which took a few more touches), Cara spun around. “My turn.”
“Lucky me,” Erica grinned.
“Fair’s fair,” Cara said. Her hands, still cool from the ocean, landed on Erica’s shoulders.
Erica gasped. “Your fingers are freezing!”
“They’ll warm up... You’ll warm them up,” Cara drawled. She started smoothing the sunscreen over her, massaging in unhurried circles. When her thumbs brushed the sensitive skin right under the edge of her swimsuit top, Erica squirmed and giggled.
“That tickles! And are you really trying to put sunscreen on my tits?”
“I’m being thorough,” Cara grinned. Her eyes were sparkling. She leaned close, lips near her ear. “Can’t have your soft skin getting damaged.”
Her hands, warmed up now, slid to Erica’s stomach next, applying light pressure that made Erica’s breath hitch. Her laughter melted into a shaky sigh.
“You’re the worst,” Erica breathed out, tilting her head back as Cara’s lips found her throat.
“You adore me,” Cara whispered against her skin.
Things escalated.
The sunscreen was forgotten.
More than one kiss happened.
More than one instance of Cara’s hands wandering over Erica’s hips, or Erica tangling her fingers in Cara’s ponytail to pull her closer. Swimsuits were tugged, sharp sensations and breathless orgasms followed.
After, they lay sprawled on their big towel. They were wrapped up in each other, enjoying the quiet buzz under their skin, watching the sky. They were both very glad nobody else was around to see.
Soon, the water called them back. Their toes sank into wet sand, the sun glinted off the waves. Erica scooped up a handful of seawater and flicked it at Cara’s legs.
“Hey!” Cara gasped, then grinned. “Did you just start a war?”
Erica shrugged. “Oops. My hand slipped.”
Cara splashed back. “Stand still, gorgeous, so I can get you back properly.”
“Nope!” Erica laughed. She splashed again. “You snooze, you lose, sunshine.”
Cara vanished. It was just a blur, and then she was standing a few feet away. “You realize I’m fae, right? This is very unfair to you.”
“Oh please,” Erica said, winding up for a bigger splash. “You’re all bark and no bi—”
A wave, out of nowhere, crashed into her from behind. It soaked her from head to toe. She sputtered, saltwater in her mouth, her hair plastered to her face. “CARA.”
The fae had a hand pressed over her mouth, trying not to laugh and failing completely. “Wow. The sea itself is on my side. It’s destiny.”
“You totally did that!”
“Prove it!” Cara backed away, still laughing. “Okay, okay, boo! Maybe I nudged it. A little.”
Erica lunged. They both stumbled deeper in the waters, laughing so hard they could barely stand. Cara caught her, her arms strong around her waist, keeping them both upright. Erica wrapped her legs around Cara’s hips and her arms around her neck.
Then kissed her.
The kiss tasted like salt and a little like the fake cherry scent of their sunscreen. Erica’s hands cradled Cara’s face. Her fingers pushed into her sun-streaked hair. Cara’s lips were cool and soft, a fascinating contrast as their lips merged, the kiss making her feel dizzy.
Good thing Cara was holding her so tight. She smiled right into the kiss. Cara laughed too. Their noses bumped.
“Sand,” Erica mumbled against her mouth. “I think I have sand on my lips.”
“Me too,” Cara giggled. She didn’t pull away. She just brushed her lips back and forth over Erica’s. It made them laugh harder.
Later, after more sunscreen (applied a bit more efficiently this time) they sat on the sand and started building.
They began with a big, packed mound of wet sand. Then they used handfuls of drippy sand to build towers and walls. They carved out windows and doors from the top down. They decorated the walls with little shells and bits of seaweed.
Erica had named it Sun Castle. It reminded her of Cara. The warm, golden color. The way it stood bright against the blue. Building it felt like how Cara’s love felt; bright and alive, like standing in sunlight with your eyes closed.
Cara looked at the finished castle with a toothy smile. Then she looked at Erica. She reached over and brushed a bit of sand from her cheek. Then kissed her. Surprise, surprise... it was a wet, sandy kiss again, because sand had a way of getting everywhere. But she didn’t care.
“The tide’s coming in,” Erica said with a sigh. She nodded toward the water. It was creeping closer. “It’s gonna destroy our Sun Castle...”
“Not yet,” Cara winked. She placed her palm on top of it. A faint, shimmering ripple of gold—her magic—washed over the sandcastle. It spread around it in an invisible circle, a barrier. “There. Defenses fortified.”
Erica leaned in and kissed Cara. Once, twice… three times. “Show-off.”
“Your show-off,” Cara corrected, kissing her back.
As the sun started to go down, painting the sky orange and pink, they sat side-by-side. They watched their castle hold its ground against the sea. They ate the sandwiches. Cara had made them with some weird, sweet fae bread. It was delicious.
After they ate, they got their big blanket and wrapped it around both of them. Erica curled herself around Cara from behind. She draped an arm over Cara’s waist, hooked a leg over hers. She nuzzled her face into her neck and breathed in deep. Cara smelled like salt air, like coconut, like home.
“You’re doing it again,” Cara rasped against Erica’s temple.
“Doing what?”
“Sniffing me. Like I’m a pastry or a flower.”
Erica nuzzled closer. She didn’t feel even a little bit ashamed. “You smell like my favorite place. It’s comforting.”
Cara’s arm tightened around Erica’s where it lay across her stomach. She turned her head. Her lips found Erica’s forehead first. Then the tip of her nose. Finally, her mouth. The kiss was sweet. Tasted like the last bite of their shared sandwich. Tasted like sunset. Tasted like happiness.
When they pulled, Cara's voice was husky. “I love you, boo,” she murmured. “I really, really do.”
Erica’s lips curved into a smile, cheeks flushed. "Love you too, my sunshine."
Gonna do something a little different. Yes I know I'm exactly one page into BoWaC but I want to know what the final full comic for book one will be and I'm doing it as a public poll this time because I feel like it (working full time has made me shrivel up inside idk how neurotypical people do this)
Anyway.
Pick which one should be the final comic for Book one of Aberrant Tendencies (Silken Slumber)
Story number 6 should be...
Crash Landing
The Prince in Rags and the Colourless King
Voting ended onJun 8, 2024
Also here's some SFW art from both stories I've made in the past under the read-more
Me: I could never walk willingly into a faery circle. That’s the kind of thing I most definitely, never in my life, would do. That’s so stupid. Same idiot level as a horny, horror movie character.
Fae: darling.
Me: As I was saying, I would 100% step into a faery circle with no hesitation what so ever.
She comes to me in a time of desperation. When I am searching for a part of myself that still did not exist. Sana emerges in my backyard in a flurry of spring petals. Perhaps this is what poets meant by fae-struck. To have my whole being waiting, aching for her exacting gaze.
Under it knowing that I am alive, that I am hers, and that she is wanting of me.
She was perfect, taking the form of a beautiful woman again. All for me, she molds herself a few hours at a time for my viewing pleasure. She did not even mind pulling at the far-reaching particles into a single being so my mortal eyes can manage.
A saint.
Heavens above, she approaches in that gliding way. Finding those pockets in the universe to push her forward. In my small garden her power carries the sweet honeysuckle scent. I try feebly to rid my hands of the dirt; hours spent composting.
I stop wearing gloves after Sana advised that I should feel the earth, be in communion with it. The soil and all its afterbirth.
I cringe with the image it sprung when my cat had kittens not too long ago, in my bed. I caressed her then for an explanation that she begrudgingly gave.
“Silly thing, you are touching and benefiting from the earth’s womb, be grateful and do not shrink from the afterbirth,” she said pointedly at the soil. I threw my gloves then. Well... I actually repurposed them into pot holders. Sana did not like those who wasted, so I did not.
My neck warmed from her comment, a simple request made me feel like a scolded child. “They are beautiful,” Sana airily whispers onto my neck, cooling the hurt memory. I did not immediately turn to her, allowing the shame to bound my head to the soil.
As the tears flow down my weather-beaten cheeks. Perhaps it was the exhaustion from the day, or the ill temperament of life. It was nice to think to blame life, and her fickleness. But the reality rubs at me raw; other’s words held me by an unforgiving leash. Swaying me one way than the next, from hiccupping tears to laughing smiles.
A fatal flaw, one that seems to intensify with Sana’s nearness. I only exist under the space her regard allows for me.
Only matter when she reminds me of my body with tendrils of air grasping me. Only matter when she kisses me, once, twice, a thousand times replicating that free-falling love she said only humans had to endure.
I know the exact amount of space she takes up in the world, no matter how faint her outline. The air she is, so wholly and entirely hers. To me, there was a demarcation between her and the other world winds. To even the whishing sounds of winds, I knew her. No breeze was ordinary, never with Sana.
My Sana commands the most tenders of air, euphoric and inspiring.
Even now, as I remember those times nothing has changed. She still holds the reins of my being, my soul. Everchanging but she knew my need for consistency and greeting me with the same body not-body of a woman. The one I first learned through taste.
Gripping my waist, she hoists me in her arms. A smile gracing her face in question, to which I answer in a nod. She shoots us up high above my garden, my little corner of her world.
We fly higher, my neighbourhood a pinprick as we languish above the clouds. My lungs had yet to catch up with my heart. The thudding reaching to a point of pain, I try to suck in as much of the thin air. The crispness cut a reminder; no human should exist this high above.
Wispy lips meet mine, I exhale into the kiss humming, savouring it. For I know how fleeting these moments are, how easily she can be here than not. Her lilting laugh fans over my lips into another kiss.
“Do you like this gorgeous girl, to be so high in my dwelling. Does the air not intoxicate you? Do you find the clouds to your liking,” she questions uselessly, I stop being able to form words since she came.
Where would one start to try to encapsulate the beauty before them. The sublimity of the blue sky. Ordinary yet not, only its in daily visage but from this vantage point, it is awe inspiring.
Alone in the ether, a sight unseen.
“The clouds make my heart so light; they are so fluff—”
Again, she kisses me.
“Worry not for I can see it all in your eyes, the truth, my gift to you.”
Her translucent body paired with the blue sky, quite literally looks like heaven. Or whatever I imagine it to be. “For me?”
“Yes, all for you, drink, drink, drink until you are full. Let me hold you, let me show you a fraction of the love that shines in you. I am not at all like you, full of personality, just a bit of air and wind coming together in a single form, one you can hold in return.”
A bit—I had to laugh at that. Like anything about Sana can be small. Did she really have to minimize herself for me?
She breathes coolly on my sadden face for relief I assume.
“I know that meaning of that look. And from all the faces you grant me this I hate the most.”
That brings tears to my eyes. Or what I think, my eyes from her breathing stay dry.
“I’ve shown you time and again my fondness towards you, yet you deny its very existence. I cannot love how you humans do though I wish it, how I would shower you in it. My kindred please do not weep, do not make me shameful in my own being.”
In my love I had brought her low, had her feel that same sick desperation that plagues me. A wonder to get even someone like Sana to feel shame. I did not even think she was capable of it.
A mix of guilt and shame found a way to burn my ears so high up.
“Sana you know I don’t mean it like that, I love you that’s all that matters who cares about..” Me? Was I really going to say that to her, to what? garner sympathy. “…all that.” I try to finish quickly. Looking at her translucent face I know she can read me clearly as if I am of same stuff as her.
Sana once told me my emotions cross my face like that of still water, its surface mirroring anything that flew by it. So, it did not take much imagining that my words did not have its intended effect. And I was only showing my hand with my honest face.
“I never like when you no— I quite hate it when you act like this.” Sana does not stumble through her emotions like I do. She is sure and quick to name what she is feeling.
“Like what,” I say like the word hate does not bring up all those dreadful emotions.
“Like you are the worst person that there is nothing good or beautiful that resides in you.”
I want to answer, to provide reasoning, some sort of explanation aside from the rehearsed lie that sits idly on my tongue. But she was no fool, nothing can dissuade her in her path to the truth that I refuse to give.
“Words will never just be, I beg for you to understand that,” she continues “what you say holds weight gravity. They do not float away into nothingness, they exist somewhere like all living things, and you keep saying— believing it will have no other choice but to be true.”
She drags the shape of her thumb against my bottom lip. Sighing into it, a little closer to an exquisite death. She held the very breath in my chest at bay. Coaxing it back inside me, I feel the pressure build at my sternum.
She smiles that knowing smile of hers as I suffocate. I want to heave, forcing all the air out and suck in her freshness, to go back to the automatic-ness of breathing again.
The conscious effort waning, as Sana forcibly stops my means of living. That smile unperturbed. Her thumb thrusts pass my parted lips. Almost petting at my tongue.
She is choking me out to touch my tongue. The tongue I use to carve out her body in the open air. The one if asked I would have given to her willingly. Her petting stops but she did not remove her thumb. Pinning my tongue down I thought I felt the imprint of a nail.
I start to convulse, pleading to the air inside to leave me. It felt like vomiting when you choke on it quick and hard from the sudden rush. As though the creator could take you here and now. Worst when the blockage would not pass. Even worse when the person who held your life was touching you in ways a partner would.
One that promises safety and comfort.
But Sana was full of wild storms. Her temperament changes as swiftly as the weather. I tempt her too much with my honeyed words. Nothing would soothe a hurt storm, you only had to wait until it passed.
I do not think I can wait, not if I want to make it out alive.
Respectfully I was quickly losing consciousness, dry heaving to release the weight in my chest.
“Dirty tongue, should I rip it out,” she said, reverting to that odd petting. “This is where all your faults lie. Let me darling to rid you of it.”
This is the problem of loving an element they subjugate you to their extremities. Sana does not feel a wide range of emotions nor suffers its complexities of their nuances.
She just is, and I must.
Her emotions surface like the rising dawn, with every colour distinguishable.
Clear, no hidden messages, no obstructions. “You will be so much happier without it.”
Sana is nothing like us and the film of deceit that coats our every expression and action. I know she meant what she said, and her actions will follow suit.
I claw at the making of her arms. Fighting against air and wind. Intentionally making it so I cannot grasp her. Her grip on my neck a vice, that probably is now sporting a wonderful bruise.
Her touch had always been of gentleness, carrying that note of whatever season currently at play. My mind attaches to Sana’s winds, a memory most coveted in my heart. The crisp cool winds of an afternoon summer.
With the sun fading away into night, my mother’s voice called me home. The streetlights are low and soft picking up in its vibrancy with the descent of the sun. Both a guide and a warning for fickle night. No one could know what any night could bring. So, children must be tucked into bed safe and warm.
That sweet wind pushing at my tired body home, home. Sana was trying to take that from me. The home we could have built.
My eyes begin to blur from the thick tears that welt. Black spots sprouting, clouding my view of her. Perhaps it was best, I did not think I would find any remorse there. The blackness spread, coagulating. All at once I wink out of existence
Even in death Sana was not my enemy. I would not dare to think of her as the villainess of my story. Only my forever partner, my love who I have turned away from me.
But now I wonder if death is a caress. One that starts at the jaw, down the throat, sweeping across the collarbone, trailing the sternum, and cupping my breast. My…
My eyes peel open and once again a sight unseen is forced onto me.
It was freezing cold. Frost trailed across your window in thin, icy sheets. You couldn’t be bothered watching the pretty patterns form, though. You were too busy pulling on your coat and boots and ensuring that your flashlight worked.
“I’m sorry!” your sister insisted. “I didn’t know she would just bolt like that!”
“Which part of ‘watch the cat, she’s an idiot who likes to run outside and get lost’ was confusing to you?” you snapped as you finished strapping on your boots. “Look, I know you need to get going, so just head back home. I’ll be fine.”
“I should help you,” your sister said, but the protest was weak. You could tell she wasn’t interested in running after a cat in the cold after dark.
“No, too many people running around will just freak her out more and it’ll take longer to catch her. If I haven’t found her by the morning, then I’ll call you. But right now, I just… don’t want to see you, okay?” You put your hat on your head and waved her off. “Just go.”
She looked hesitant, but she turned and left. After a minute, you heard her car pull out of the driveway and away into the street.
It was bitterly cold outside. You could feel the icy chill of the air through your gloves. Your nose stung and started to run after only a few moments. Nerves clawed at your stomach. Your cat was young and astoundingly stupid. At every given opportunity, she tried to run outside and catch whatever small animal was currently on your lawn. Unfortunately, she seemed physically unable to find her way back to the house if she was more than five feet away and she had gotten lost a few times already.
You took a few minutes to locate your cat’s pawprints, then started following them. They were rather meandering and doubled back a few times. “Frosty!” you yelled. You were starting to regret getting a white and gray cat. Your light could be pointed right at her back and you would barely have been able to tell in the snow. “Frosty! Come on out girl!” You shook the bag of treats you’d brought with you. “Come here baby! Kiss kiss!”
A wind whipped by. Your eyes welled up with tears that dribbled down your cheeks and promptly froze. “Frosty!” you yelled. Was she already freezing? Had she hunkered down somewhere and wasn’t willing to come to you? Or was she trying to find you and getting lost trying to do so?
The wind kicked up again, carrying your voice away. You had to stand still for a moment and just block your face from the stinging cold. You could feel your eyelashes freezing as your tears accumulated in them.
There was a snap like a gunshot and you leaped back as a tree branch above you cracked and broke. You moved to get out of the way, but it was too late. The branch plunged down and landed on your legs, pinning you into the snow.
The crash knocked the breath out of you and you had to hold still for a few minutes just to get your bearings again. Slowly, the shock faded and you were able to take stock of your body.
Your legs hurt. It was a dull ache that came from your lower back, where the brunt of the branch had hit, then moved down your legs in a symphony of dull aches and sharp, piercing scratches. You were somewhat relieved that your legs hurt at all, though. It meant the branch hadn’t broken your spine.
Soon after you came to terms with the pain, you realized that he fall had also shoved snow up under your jacket and under your gloves. You could feel the melted slush soaking into your skin. Great. You would need to hurry home and change your clothes before continuing your search.
You made to stand up and realized a third, absolutely terrifying fact: the branch was heavy and the snow was slick. You couldn’t get enough leverage to heave the branch off your back.
Panic sparked through you and you took a few deep breaths to fight it back. Okay. Okay. You couldn’t stand up. Don’t panic, panicking wastes energy. Slowly, you started to wriggle your legs. You could move them, but you still couldn’t get any traction and really only managed to get more snow down your pants. Okay. Where was your phone? You could call someone.
You tried to reach for your pocket, but the branch had pinned the hand closest to your pocket and the branch blocked your other arm. Panic pressed on your chest. You’d been knocked on your stomach and it was starting to get tiring to hold you head up to avoid breathing in the snow. “Fuck. Uh.” Okay, plan C. “Help! Help!”
There wasn’t a good chance that anyone would hear you, but it was better than just lying still and waiting for the wolves to find you. “Help!” you yelled. Your voice rasped and the cold air made your chest ache. “Help!”
Eventually, your voice started to waver. You sniffed and tried to wipe off your streaming nose. Your face and hands were going numb and you were starting to feel sleepy. Fuck. “Help!” you yelled again in a cracking voice.
“Mrrph?” Your head jerked in the direction of the sound. You recognized the noise.
“Frosty?”
“Mrowph!” Two little eyes appeared in the beam of your flashlight and a gray and white cat peered at you.
“Frosty!” Some measure of relief flooded through you. “Come here girl! Come here!”
She turned and looked over her shoulder like she was planning on bolting back into the woods. Your heart sank. “No, no, come here! Come to your mommy!”
She turned around fully and mewed into the woods. After a few seconds of staring, she turned back and trotted over to you.
As soon as she reached you, you started to hear the sound of footsteps crunching over snow. “Hey!” You seized Frosty’s collar to prevent her from running when you yelled. She mewed irritably. “Can you hear me? Can y-”
A woman emerged from the woods. You slumped back, mouth opening. She wasn’t wearing shoes.
That was what your mind focused on for several seconds, possibly because it was the first thing you noticed and also the most obviously strange. You’d never seen anyone out in this kind of weather without at least socks, and those people were typically in a panic and yelling “Who stole my shoes?” This woman looked utterly calm.
It was then that you started to notice other things about her. She was oddly pale, like she had no blood in her. She was also wearing a dress that you thought would be more in place at a party than a trek through the woods. It seemed to be made out of a fancy, sheer material, with designs like frost spreading across a window. Her long, pale hair was threaded with a similar patterns. As she got closer, you could even see little speckles of frost on her eyelashes and her hands, like she was cold enough for it to form on its own.
She looked down at you with pale eyes, calm expression unchanging as she took in your predicament. Then she looked at your cat.
“Is this her?” she asked. Frosty let out an irritated meow, the sort she gave when you weren’t giving her dinner fast enough. “Very well.” She crouched next to you. “How badly are you trapped?”
It took you a moment to answer. The woman turned her head to your cat and lifted an eyebrow. “This is truly the one you have taken as your own?”
Frosty mewed in a tone stunningly similar to the one you used when telling people “Yeah, my cat’s an idiot, but I love her.” The woman hummed and turned her head back to you.
“I can move,” you said, trying to show that you were smart enough to form sentences, “I just can’t lift the branch off me.”
The woman nodded. “Hold still.” She stepped forward and braced her arm under the branch. You watched the muscles in her shoulder ripple as she straightened and the branch lifted off you.
You moved to scramble out from underneath the branch, but the woman stopped you. “Don’t move yet.” She instead took a few steps and dumped the branch almost effortlessly on the ground before returning to you. Frosty scrambled toward you and rubbed her body against you, purring like mad. You ran one of your hands along her back as she started to lick your nose.
“Okay, okay, I’m fine,” you said. The woman brushed her hands off and returned to you.
“Can you stand?” she asked. You moved your legs slowly. They were stiff and tingling from lack of blood and you back hurt with a bone-deep ache. You really tried to stand, but your legs were clumsy. Being half-numb from cold didn’t help.
The woman nodded slightly. “I thought not. Hold still.” Before you could say or do anything, she reached down and lifted you into her arms.
You let out a startled squeak. Her skin was cool, though fortunately not cold. Up close, you could see the frost that trailed across her face. Little crystals of ice detailed her cheeks and forehead. Up close, you could see chunks of jewel-like ice glimmering in her hair.
Frosty jumped, landing on the woman’s shoulders. Her claws dug in, but the woman didn’t even flinch. “Don’t be like that,” she said. “As if you know the way. Weren’t you the one who told me you were lost?”
You cleared your throat. “Uh, are you talking to my cat?”
“Yes,” she said. “Which direction is your house in?”
You pointed and she started walking. She didn’t struggle at all to carry both you and your cat. She didn’t seem to be breathing hard.
In fact, you weren’t sure if she was breathing at all.
It didn’t take long to get back to your house. She moved quickly and easily and the ground seemed to slip by under her feet. As you approached the warm glow of your home, Frosty jumped down and padded up to the door. You moved to get down, but the woman just flicked her hand toward the door and it drifted open. Without even pausing, she stepped into the entryway of your house.
“How did you- Hey!” She deposited you on your couch, face down. You tried to get up but your back throbbed when you tried to move.
“Hold still,” she said. Slowly, she pulled up the hem of your shirt. You froze. Cold fingers prodded your lower back. “You were injured.”
“Yeah,” you said. “But I’ll be fine, so-” Before you could even finish, she had walked out of the room. You could hear her banging around with the kettle. You sagged back down onto the couch and glanced at your cat. She stared back at you, eyes mostly closed, rumbling with soft purrs.
The woman reappeared around a corner. “Here.” She placed something on your back. It was cold, but only for a moment before your skin numbed. “That should help you heal more quickly.”
“What are you?” you asked. The woman’s mouth quirked and her eyes glittered like freshly-fallen snow.
“I am fae,” she said. “Aligned with the winter court. My name is Juniper.”
“You’re a fairy?” you blurted out. She laughed. It reminded you of soft, chiming bells.
“In a sense. The fae are a bit more than your fairy tales would suggest.” She perched on the arm of the couch and smiled at you. “Did you know that you’re the first human to live here in many years?”
“Yeah,” you said. “They said the house was haunted.” You swallowed. “I don’t believe in ghosts.”
She grinned. “A wise decision.” She leaned close, almost conspiratorially. “Ghosts aren’t real.” She leaned back again. “The house was thought to be haunted because it sits where the veil between our worlds is quite thin. I imagine the previous owners overheard some of our revelries.”
“Must have been some party,” you said. “Didn’t they mention bloodcurdling screams?”
The faintest hint of color entered her cheeks. “We have a tendency to get a little carried away,” she said. “But you needn’t worry too much about such things.” She looked fondly at Frosty. “Your little friend gave you quite a glowing review, and you’re a lovely young woman. I wish to give you my mark.”
“Your mark?” you repeated. She nodded.
“It will signal to other fae that if they bother you, they will answer to me. It should be a significant enough deterrent for most of them.” She gave a small smile and rested her cool fingers under your chin. Before you had even a second to react, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to hers.
She was a good kisser. A pleasant tingling spread through your lips as her cool breath tickled your skin. It felt a little like kissing someone who had just had a lot of mint.
She withdrew after almost a minute. You sank back, feeling almost lightheaded. The tingling faded from your lips slowly and a chill rattled through your body. Your lips remained cold for several seconds longer than they should have. Your scalp tickled.
“There,” she said. “Now you have been marked.” She waved a hand and a sheet of silvery ice appeared in her hands. “See?”
You peered into the mirror. Sure enough, a streak of your long, dark hair had been bleached white. You reached up and touched it. “Everyone’s going to think I’m going gray early.”
She frowned a little. “I think it’s quite fetching.” You blushed. “I notice I haven’t gotten your name. Would you care to give it to me?”
You started to speak, then hesitated, myths about fairies stealing names coming to mind. She grinned at your obvious reluctance. “If you were going to be concerned about me stealing you away, you should have thought of that before letting me mark you.” You pressed your lips together and said nothing. “I have no intentions of stealing your name. If it makes you feel better, I’ll rephrase the question: What would you like me to call you?”
You still hesitated, but decided, after a moment, that it was going to be hard to get in any deeper than you already were. “Call me Kimberlee.”
Juniper laughed, teeth gleaming white in her smile. “I like your name, Kimberlee! Maybe I should take it!” You glared at her and she smiled, all white teeth and feigned innocence. “Come now, I promise I would make it fun for you.”
Frosty gave a reproachful yowl from the floor and leapt on top of you, shooting Juniper a glare. She sighed, sitting back. “Oh, all right, car. If you insist. But you could come too, you know. I could have quite the setup for you and your human…” Frosty mewed again, eyes narrowing. “Fine, fine. I won’t take her name.”
“Thank you?” you said, glancing between the fae and your cat. Frost gave a little mew and Juniper rolled her eyes.
“Oh, it wouldn’t be so bad. I’d keep you happy. You’d like it with me, I can promise you that.” She almost purred the last words and a blush made your cheeks burn. A particularly sharp twinge rolled through your back and you groaned. She sat back, slight concern crossing her face. “I’ll grab the medicine.”
She stepped into the kitchen and returned with a steaming mug. “Here,” she said, pressing it into your hands. “Drink it all.”
You had also heard rumors of what happened to people who ate or drank anything a fae gave them. Frosty jumped up on the couch and you offered her the cup. She sniffed at it for a second, then settled down next to you. She seemed satisfied, at least. You took a sip. It was pleasantly spicy, full of stuff that warmed your tongue and insides and sent pleasant tingles all along your spine. You drank deeply, eyes half-closing. Juniper smiled at you.
“That’s going to make you sleepy,” she said. “You’ll fall asleep after drinking it and when you wake up, you should feel better.” Even halfway through the drink, you could feel your eyelids starting to get heavy. You could tell why she wanted you to drink it all in one go; if you had waited, you would have fallen asleep before you managed to finish it.
Juniper took the cup from you one you were done. You were grateful for it. Walking to the kitchen seemed like way too difficult of a task for you to manage. “Get some rest,” she said in a surprisingly gentle voice. “I’ll see you again soon.” She left the room as your eyes closed. They were too heavy to even try to open again. Frosty curled up at your side, purring gently.
It was dawn when you woke, orange sunlight filtering in through the windows. Frosty was asleep at your side. Slowly, you stretched your stiff limbs and stood up. Your back felt fine, like you hadn’t been flattened by tree branch the night prior. There was no sign of Juniper. You wandered toward the front door, peering outside.
There was something sitting on your front stoop. You opened the door and looked down. Sitting there were several crystalline flowers. When you reached down to touch one, you realized how cold they were. They were flowers of ice. There was a note next to them, written in elegant script.
They won’t melt if you bring them inside. They’re a gift for my new mark. I’ll be seeing you again soon. I hope I get another kiss.
XO
Juniper
You felt your blush rising again, but you smiled. You were looking forward to seeing her again.
