It had been such a lovely day. The fae had woken up to one of the first warm days in weeks, sunlight streaming through his windows as the dainty jingling of wind chimes rode the breeze. Rarely awake before noon, and even rarer to be pleased with it, he hadn’t even bothered taming the wild bedhead that seemed to be a permanent issue with his newly shortened locks, simply rolled out of bed, pulled on a pair of pants, dove back onto the bed to throw pillows and blankets about until he located his phone, then meandered his way downstairs and out of the Tree to go find a nice patch of sun-warmed grass.
A few hours later, sprawled out on his stomach in the middle of the clearing next to the Tree, flipping through his phone browser is when he feels it... a disturbance in The Force. A darkness approaches… he muses with a silent chuckle. Not bothering to acknowledge the dryad’s presence, instead continuing to give his current internet search his full attention was perhaps where he went wrong. He has milliseconds to consider his mistake, from the moment he realizes she has launched herself from the ground and become airborne, to the instant she slams onto his back like a cat pouncing onto a lizard who had been stupid enough to play dead instead of run. As previously stated…
It had been such a lovely day.
Wind knocked from his diaphragm at the impact Puck chokes/wheezes with his face shoved into the grass, the attempt at catching his breath hampered by the solid weight straddling his lower back and bouncing with laughter. Coughing out a string of extremely colorful expletives the fae scowls up, a mass of chocolate brown hair blocking out the light and wild, feral eyes glint golden with unrestrained mirth as Faera hangs her head upside down over his with a tittering giggle. Despite the ache in his ribs the irritation fizzles out at seeing her so energized for the first time in months; she wasn’t accustomed to sitting out a winter Up Top and it had taken its toll on her, physically and emotionally. With a resigned sigh he rolls his eyes at her but opts not to throw her across the field, a sign she takes as his begrudging compliance. “You’re in rare form today, I was hoping to have at least a few more days of blissful silence before you crawled out of your bedroom...” Eyes back on the phone screen he swipes his finger across it to speed scroll through the images, grumbling with a bored tone as she wriggles to get comfortable. “Luuuuucky me.”
Snickering at his perceived ‘bad luck’ Faera falls forward to flop against his back, her own tanned legs stretching out along his, annoyed at the abrasive cloth of his pants. Arms wrapping around his neck she shoves her face next to his so that her nosy ass can look at what on his phone could possibly be sooo important that he was actively ignoring all her attempts at pissing him off. It takes a second of scanning the images before her head jerks back with a disgusted snort and it’s her turn to roll her eyes with a mocking chuckle. “Seriously? Valentine ideas?! Since when do you have to search for ideas to be your typical disgustingly mush-brained self?” Singularly unimpressed with the topic she rolls over onto her back, still very much balanced on his back.
The fae beneath her grumbles, whether it is in response to her jeering or the way her hair fell in his face when she drops her head back onto his shoulder is anyone’s guess. She couldn’t care less; it was enough that she’s successfully pestering him. Picking at her nails absentmindedly she shrugs against his shoulders, voice low if not a bit conspiratorial. “You could always have your dear sister sneak into the royal vault again to… borrow… more jewels for her? I mean, she’s already got the crown, necklace, and earrings, might as well have a full set.”
She can feel him tense up beneath her but he says nothing in regard to her prodding insinuations. “And while I am sure she enjoys those things, they’re not exactly… practical? A bit hard to walk around wearing faerie jewels in the mundane world, but currently I am having the slightest issue with being-”
“-practical.”, she huffs out in amusement.
“-yes, thank you.” His ears twitch with annoyance at being interrupted. “It’s just frustrating, how can any of these ideas be enough?.” As if to emphasize his point he flattens out, face falling forward to thump his forehead against the ground.
Faera stares at a passing cloud, complete and utter boredom at this conversation etched into every frowning line on her face. There is absolutely no part of her that cares one lick about this ‘special’ day or the weird little midget woman, but if she doesn’t wrap this up he is going to whine and sulk over it all day. Besides, even if she wants to suggest he simply get her a Happy Meal and let that be that… the dryad doesn’t like seeing him so upset. It’s impossible to remove all of the sarcasm from her tone but she at least makes a slight effort. “Isn’t there some saying the meatbags have about ‘the thought that counts’? I mean, if she was the type of chick that expected jewels and fancy shit from you all the time you wouldn’t have stuck around. I know you -always- say ‘Ohhhh I just want to give her the wooorld!’ -”
“- I take offense to that impression of me.”, his muffled voice interjects.
“- it was meant to be offensive, shush.”, she chuckles, knocking her head into his. “Well dipshit, it’s not about what you want. What the fuck does she want?”
The fae pauses at that, chin lifting to rest on his folded arms as he tucks them under his face. Honestly? He could think of a million little things to get her, ‘little’ things like he’s done in the past: pillows and clothes and jewelry and books. Yes he’s sure she enjoyed them, but what sort of things are most important to her, what mattered the most? He didn’t know, hadn’t had enough quality time with her to figure it out. Huh.
Sharp eyebrows raise expectantly, waiting for his response but when she is met with silence her mouth curls smugly, rear wiggling against him like a puppy who had just been praised. “Ohhhh did I say a thing that made sense?! Hot damn, lookit me go, NOOOW can we go do something fun?!”
With an exasperated chuckle Puck stands up, shaking off the not-so-little leach that had stolen his precious sunning time. Squeaking in surprise when her bare ass meets the dirt, she takes the hand offered to her with a self-satisfied grin plastered across her face. “So what’s the plan, Stan?”
Pulling her to her feet, he removes a few stray leaves from her untameable locks before heading back to the Tree to get dressed. To get both of them dressed. “Well, I’m going shopping, you’re more than welcome to come with. Figured it would give you a chance to get a present too?” Faera squints hard at him, thoroughly confused and immediately uncomfortable with the knowing look he gave her over his shoulder. “Valentines nowadays is not just a day for loving couples, Ra-Ra. It’s become a day to tell those most important to you that they matter.”
She knows his choice of words was completely coincidental, since there’s no way he could possibly know that’s what she calls a certain Spider… her most important… but that doesn’t keep her from nearly stumbling as she follows behind him, or stop her gaze from traveling everywhere but at Puck’s back as he walks through the front door of the Tree, telling herself that the heat she feels on her cheeks and ear tips is just the noon sun. “Yeah, maybe we could make an extra stop or something...”
Set after this thread where Faera convinces Kok to take her on a date. Things that end well...
High up in the branches, his back against the Tree and a book in one hand, a peach in the other, he senses her before she even pops her head and torso out of the trunk just above him, waist down still joined to the Tree. Holding herself up with a hand on either shoulder she hangs her head upside down in front of Puck’s face, hair blocking his view of his book. Not missing a beat he brushes it aside and continues to read without offering her even a glance, as if she weren’t there, merely a bug that buzzed around for his attention. Faera giggles, dragging her hair back across the pages with a smirk, not easily dissuaded by his disregard of her presence.
With an annoyed exhalation he slams his book shut on her hair, earning him a yelp as she grabs at her scalp, her lack of support causing her to fall completely out and into his lap. He had been expecting as much and moves the book away, freeing her hair and catching her before she has a chance to fall. He didn’t expect to lose a hold of his peach as it goes tumbling over the side and plummets to the ground... that part is unfortunate. Absolute boredom over her antics is etched into his face as he looks at her unblinking. “No.”
Pulling her hair over her shoulder to brush it out, her face is scrunched in indignation, eyebrows knit together as she glares at him grumpily. “I didn’t ask you for shit yet.“
His eyebrow raises. “No, but you were about to. I was just cutting to the chase and getting the disappointment out of the way.”
Mouth twisted in a scowl, she grumbles at that. “As requests go this one is relatively simple and potentially fun.”
It’s hard to keep the skepticism off his face. “Our idea of ‘fun’ is vastly different, so somehow I find it insanely difficult to believe, but go ahead, I’ll bite. What do you want?”
Grinning wide, slightly pointed teeth flashing at him for at least hearing her out, she bounces excitedly in his lap, hands clapping like a child getting a new toy. “I want you to take me shopping! I need a dress!”
Now he is slightly confused, and definitely suspicious. “I have numerous dresses that you have never hesitated in ‘borrowing’, and I can just glamour up whatever it is you want… why bother dragging you store to store when I know you’ll just complain.”
At this she deflates just the slightest, looking away almost embarrassed. “I just… I want my own this time, ok? Something… pretty. Elegant.” Something special that is meant for just this one occasion.
He can’t help the derisive snort. “Basically something other than your overly exposing ‘might as well have just come naked’ get-up?” Eyes narrowing, he glares at her suspiciously. “Yeah, I suppose I can do that. Care to share what it’s for?”
Snorting hard she rolls her eyes at him. “Well I steal all your shit, so it’s not like you’re one to speak when it comes to the amount of skin shown.” Mouth a straight line, she groans at the look on his face, reluctant to answer his question. Still she does so, since she wants his help with it. “I have a date tonight that doesn’t give a shit about how much skin I show, so I’d like to take the opportunity to get fancied up.” She shrugs. “I never get a chance to, thought it might be fun. Besides, you’re always telling me I should get in touch with my ‘ladylike’ side. Well, here’s your chance.”
He stares at her for a moment before his expression brightens, mouth a wide, sly smile. “This is for your fluffernutter boytoy, isn’t it? Awwww, how cute! Ra-Ra wants to impress someone for once.”
Baring her teeth she rips the book from his hand and smacks him upside the head, a feral growl in the pit of her chest. “Stop calling me that, and don’t call him that! Don’t lump him in with all the other ones.” It upsets her more than she would have expected having Kok considered just another one of her ‘play people’. Glaring daggers at him she shoves the book against his chest, her eyes daring him to comment on the matter.
More than a little startled by the knock to the head, he blinks at her as if she’s lost her mind for striking him when she just asked him for a favor, but his retort dies in his throat at her words. Catching the book as it slides down his chest he looks at her blankly as he processes her reaction, eventually the corner of his mouth twitching into the tiniest smirk as he raises his hands in defense. “My mistake, won’t happen again.” As much as he is ever so slightly concerned with what she is most likely unknowingly getting involved in, he keeps his opinions to himself, at least for the moment. It’s not often he gets to see her actively caring about anything or anyone other than herself, and it’s nice. He only hopes it doesn’t backfire. “Very well, let’s get you all dolled up for your beau.”
It’s her turn to give him a bored look, but she just doesn’t care enough to correct him. “Huzzah, let’s do the damn thing then.” Reaching for the closest exposed area of the Tree she is gone in an instant, melding seamlessly within the wood.
Puck doesn’t immediately get up to go, instead staring unfocused at the spot she disappeared through as he thumps the book against his chin in contemplation. Bringing his attention back to the here and now he looks down at the cover with a resigned sigh, then rolls over the side of the branch to jump to the ground.
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After visiting what seems like a hundred stores and trying on a hundred dresses at each store, she steps out of the dressing room, an unsure look on her face as she spins around in front of the mirror, the white shimmery fabric fluttering around her thighs like petals of a rose. Lounging in a chair across from the mirror, chin resting in his hands Puck smiles softly at the image. Faera is beautiful no matter what she wears (or doesn’t wear for that matter), but it is a rare treat to see her looking so refined.
She fidgets, pulling her hair to cover the back of the dress, nervous about it probably for the same reason he insisted she try it on. He’s not sure how much she knows about her new ‘friend’, but it’s pretty obvious she knows something. It should be interesting to say the least. “You are an absolute vision of beauty Faera. I think it’s perfect.”
Glancing at him through the reflection of the mirror she grins almost shyly at the compliment. He’s usually pretty critical over things like this, so his honest appreciation is a nice surprise. “Fine then, I’ll go with this one, consequences be damned I suppose.”
“That’s the spirit. Now, shoes and accessories, etc etc.” Pushing himself up he waits for her to change back and come out again, the dress inconspicuously hidden under her shirt as they waltz out as if nothing is going on.
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Kicking open the front door, arms laden with all the shopping bags from assorted stores (none of which was paid for, naturally), they both drop them just inside the doorway. Faera shuffles over to throw herself face first onto the couch with a relieved groan, and Puck sighs dramatically as he plops down on the floor near her, head falling back to rest on her shoulder. “What’s the matter old lady, not used to spending so much time standing? Perhaps if you were on your feet half as much as you were on your back, you could make it a few hours of walking around.” She doesn’t have the energy to retort, simply jerks a hand up to flip him off through a mussed cloud of hair, then whines at the way the strands get tangled around and yanked at when she goes to drop her arm.
He chuckles at the sight, pulling hair free of her wrist and combing it out with his fingers. Puck knows well spending a lot of time around humans and not being able to lash out at them is pretty exhausting for her, but she did well and he was relatively proud of her. When his work is done she mumbles in a way you might could assume was some form of gratitude, but just as well could have been another ‘fuck off’. Twisting the end of a strand around his fingers, he gives it a gentle tug. “So. What are you planning on doing about your hair? Makeup?” Puck feels her go still, proof that she hadn’t even considered either thing, and in truth probably still isn’t worried about it. Screw that, he went through all of this today, they were going full out. With an exasperated huff he pulls a pillow off the couch and whaps her in the head with it. “Get up, go bathe, this shit is happening.”
The grumbling this time around as he gathers up the bags to take upstairs is definitely a ‘fuck off’. Puck would have responded in kind, but it would have ruined the look of complete smug satisfaction that he is pulling off so well right now.
Puck: Surprisingly, given as much as he is a chatter box, he’s mostly quiet. With extra sensitive hearing he prefers to hear his partner’s noises than to have his own drown them out.
Faera: Obnoxiously so. And LOVES when her partner is equally as raucous. Takes it as a sign of enjoying the activities.
☺ : How often does your muse masturbate?
Puck: Nearly none pre-Pandy lol; if he wanted release he’d go find someone. Since Pan, almost daily. Downside to an extremely high sex drive and not wanting to harass your mate XD.
Faera: Rarely if ever unless she’s being super lazy. Will simply go find a partner if she wants/needs, though that too is done at least every few days.
☯ : Write a drabble about our muses doing something naughty. (Sorry I prefer not to have Al on his ass, so we’re gonna steal your other ones :3)
Each step Puck takes becomes more difficult to manage, his ability to navigate the relatively straight path to the Bathhouse compromised by firm thighs around his waist and two handfuls of voluptuous ass. Shades of red fill his field of vision... swollen pink lips that taste of sin but promise heaven, skin flushed in the way only lust can do, and all framed in a radiant crimson curtain of hair that surrounds them. Any semblance of control that he’s been holding onto crashes to the floor when she moans his name against a sensitive ear and he nearly drags them down as well.
By some miracle though he gets them through the curtained doorway that opens into the bathhouse, a hand traveling up the back of her shirt to locate and snap open the hooks of her bra, her sharp intake of breath nearly buckling his knees again. It was a different sound that stops him in his tracks and causes the little body in his hands to stiffen, hazel and green eyes meeting in confused panic before looking over towards the source.
The ‘source’ sits comfortably and unphased in a stranger’s lap, a stranger that looks just as mortified as the couple, his skin tinted nearly the same shade of ‘omg’ and Pandora’s. Faera makes the same noise that had caught their attention in the first place, something between a cough and a snicker. “Hey there little brother, fancy meeting you here! I was just giving my Dathúil a tour of your lovely home and, well, we worked up a bit of a sweat and I thought we’d take advantage of the pools.“ She bounces a bit in his lap and the pink haired man makes a strangled noise, tightening his -many- arms around her and hides his face in her chest. Any doubts as to what they’d been doing immediately before being walked in on were dispelled in that moment. Patting his head she gives Puck a shit-eating grin that he responds to with a look of seething anger at her bringing his fun to a crashing halt. “Dathúil, this is my little brother, Puck, and his even littler toy, Mandy. Say hi sweetie!“
Puck missed the muffled sound of Kok’s greeting, as little could be heard over the sound of Pandy’s threats and promises of dismemberment as Puck wraps his arms around her waist and turns tail before she can finish transforming anything into any sort of a weapon. Faera waves at their exit, further enraging the bot as they make their way out. “We’ll come say hi again when we’re done! Don’t wait up!“
“Don’t let the curtain hit your asses on the way out!” The dryad only laughs harder at Dàirich‘s parting call before Kok slaps hands over the chuckling mouth.
