Chapter Text
Jinyoung is no shrinking violet—he doubts you could find a fairy who is—but Mark has a special skill for fucking every thought right out of his skull.
It’s a given that fairies fool around with each other. What isn’t a given is that they’re this good at it.
A wicked grin paints Mark’s face as he stares down. He’s sitting atop Jinyoung, one leg over Jinyoung’s hip and the other under his thigh, so he can press their cunts together with every slow roll of his hips.
“Mark.” Jinyoung thrashes beneath him and grabs at his hips. They both know he can’t come like this, but the slick, hot slide of Mark’s folds against his is driving him crazy. Mark’s already made him come with his mouth twice, but Jinyoung’s cock is still as desperately hard as the first time. “Stop teasing.”
“But why?” One of Mark’s dainty fingers trails down the underside of Jinyoung’s cock. The movement is eased by the mess of come all over Jinyoung’s abdomen. “You’re so pretty like this.”
Jinyoung whines and covers his face with his hands. Despite Mark’s mocking tone, the praise still makes Jinyoung’s cunt throb and his dick twitch.
Mark throws his head back when he laughs. It’s a wicked, gleeful sound, and his sharp teeth glint in the sunlight.
Just before Jinyoung snaps and rolls them over to take control of the situation, Mark finally settles back and pulls Jinyoung’s thighs up around his waist. The head of his cock slips wetly between Jinyoung’s legs. He rubs it against Jinyoung, the head just barely dipping inside before sliding out and up.
Jinyoung is on his back, but his gossamer wings still do their best to flutter in irritation. “Mark, I swear to the gods—”
His voice cuts off into a humiliating squeak as Mark starts to sheathe his cock inside him.
Jinyoung knows himself. He’s aware that, even for a fairy, his libido is considerable and his tastes tend toward the more…challenging. Still, Mark is the best he’s found among his village to fill his needs—longer than any other fairy Jinyoung’s been with and thick enough to make him feel full.
It helps, of course, that Mark fucks like he wants nothing more than to make Jinyoung fall apart.
Jinyoung lets his head loll back, his body going limp as a ragdoll as Mark starts to fuck him. He’s the only one who understands that Jinyoung neither needs nor wants delicate treatment, and it shows in every brutal thrust that drives his length deep into Jinyoung’s cunt.
He looks hazily up at Mark through half-lidded eyes. The setting sun behind Mark makes his lavender hair look almost like woven gold and shines warmly through his wings.
Mark’s eyes drag up Jinyoung’s body from where he’d been watching his cock split him open. When he meets Jinyoung’s gaze, he smirks. “Having a good time there?”
Jinyoung hums and arches his back, spreading his thighs wider around Mark like he could fuck him any deeper or harder.
“Spoiled—thing.” Mark grunts, emphasizing each word with a sharp thrust that knocks the breath out of Jinyoung. “I’m your favorite just because I do all the work, huh?”
“No,” Jinyoung says, voice lilting playfully. “You’re my favorite because you do all the work well.”
Mark laughs, seemingly pleased with Jinyoung’s answer. “You say that, but I don’t know if you’re telling the truth.”
Jinyoung pouts. He can’t help it; it’s his natural response to Mark, even when he isn’t teasing. Or fucking him in broad daylight. “What do you mean?”
“I mean”—Mark leans forward and presses Jinyoung’s thighs back toward his chest until they stretch painfully and their faces are a breath apart—“I don’t think you’re particularly picky about how you get fucked or who does it. As long as you’re getting filled and used.”
The words burn through him and Jinyoung gasps.
Mark dips even closer and nips at Jinyoung’s bottom lip too meanly for it to be called a kiss. “Am I wrong, Jinyoungie?” The only noise Jinyoung can make is a thin, wavering moan, and it only makes Mark laugh again. “You can’t even disagree with me, can you? Such a pretty little slut.”
Jinyoung’s entire body seizes up and he barely chokes out a moan as his untouched cock twitches on his abdomen and spills between them.
Mark draws back and looks down. Jinyoung wishes he hadn’t so he could kiss the smug smile off his face.
“You even like it when I call you a slut.” Mark sounds entirely too amused as he drags a fingertip through the mess on Jinyoung’s skin.
Jinyoung writhes as Mark fucks him straight into oversensitivity without stopping, just the way he always likes it. He feels tears pricking at the corners of his eyes and he squeezes them shut against the feeling.
It takes him by surprise when something bumps against his lips.
He blinks his eyes open to see Mark’s hand held out to him, his finger pressed to Jinyoung’s lips—offering him his own come.
Jinyoung doesn’t think before opening his mouth and sucking. He tastes like clover honey. He knows he’s usually sweeter than Mark, but he still wonders, as he tries to take Mark deeper into his pussy and mouth, if he can convince Mark to come in his mouth this time.
It’ll be a hard sell, since Mark prefers to eat his come straight out of Jinyoung’s used cunt. Still, it’s been so long since Jinyoung felt the flex and twitch of Mark’s cock in his mouth as he pumped him full, he just might beg.
“Gods, look at you,” Mark groans. Jinyoung gags slightly as he pulls his finger out only to push back even deeper with two. It tickles Jinyoung’s throat and makes him swallow thickly. His thumb and other fingers grip Jinyoung’s jaw firmly, pinning his head down and letting him go further. “You just love getting used, don’t you? I don’t even have to touch your pretty little cock to make you come.”
Jinyoung’s eyes roll back in his head and he chokes on Mark’s fingers.
Mark’s right, he thinks, isn’t he? Otherwise, why would his cock be dripping precome again already from Mark filling his mouth? Why would he come back again and again when he knows how rough and mean Mark likes to get?
“I wish someone else was here,” Mark pants. “Someone to fuck your mouth while I use your pussy. Maybe we could fit another cock in your ass to make you feel really full, huh?”
Jinyoung gags harshly. His cock jerks again, only the weakest dribble spilling out.
“Fuck,” Mark groans. He drops to his elbows, fucking Jinyoung with sharp, fast thrusts that would hurt if they didn’t feel so good. “You like that so much, don’t you? Want to get used? Maybe next time I’ll take you out to the village square and let everyone take a turn with you. Maybe then you’d be satisfied.”
Jinyoung nearly sobs. He thinks that’s what finally does Mark in.
Mark swears, thrusts in like he’s trying to bury himself in Jinyoung’s guts, and pumps him full of come.
Jinyoung always feels a bit mindless after fucking Mark, but today is something else. He’s completely boneless when Mark cleans him up (first with greedy licks and then with a spare corner of his tunic). He stares hazily up at the sky, quickly purpling with night as the sun dips below the horizon.
“Are you gonna be able to fly home?” Mark teases. He reaches over from where he’s kneeling beside Jinyoung to poke his side. “Or do I need to carry you?”
“Please,” Jinyoung scoffs, squirming away. Even as tiny as they are, it feels like there isn’t enough room on the wide, flat head of the toadstool now that they aren’t stacked on top of each other. “As if your skinny ass could.”
Mark raises his eyebrows and leans in until their noses brush. Despite himself, Jinyoung feels his heart rate kick up another gear again.
“You didn’t seem to have a problem with how my skinny ass was handling you a minute ago,” Mark murmurs.
Jinyoung can’t argue. Hell, he can’t dredge up a thought as he feels the warmth of Mark’s breath wash over him.
And then Mark is sitting back abruptly, lovely lips curled in a smile like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. “Since you’re so capable—race you home?”
Jinyoung groans and lifts himself up on the heels of his hands into a sitting position. “Does everything have to be a competition with you?”
Mark shrugs. “You know, if you don’t think you can win, you can just forfeit. You don’t have to whine about it.”
Jinyoung likes to think he isn’t as competitive as Mark. He isn’t, not really, not for the thrill that Mark seems to chase in every aspect of his life.
He is a tiny bit stubborn, though. Just a tad.
“I can win,” Jinyoung says haughtily. “I’m just not a child—”
“So, you shouldn’t have any problem, then,” Mark says easily. His wings shiver in anticipation of flight as he stands. They catch the moonlight and reflect it in glowing panels of iridescence.
Jinyoung clambers to his feet. He tries to ignore how his legs feel as wobbly as a newborn fawn’s.
“Last one there has to take the morning delivery shift?” Mark says brightly. Before Jinyoung can disagree—he’s scheduled for the afternoon shift, and he doesn’t particularly feel like staking a wager on it—Mark is leaping off the ledge and into open air, his wings immediately catching him and carrying him off buzzing into the deepening twilight.
Jinyoung curses—nothing real, maybe just enough to send an unfavorable gust across Mark’s flight path—and takes off after him. Mark is a lethal combination of lightweight and athletic that makes him a wickedly good flier. No matter how much effort Jinyoung puts into catching up with Mark’s physique, he’ll never match his natural ability.
Then again, natural ability isn’t the only tool Jinyoung has.
Jinyoung zips forward, taking advantage of the wide-open space as they soar over the forest of flowers beneath them. Jinyoung must have worn Mark out, because he’s drawing nearer and nearer, until he’s finally within reach.
“Jinyoung!” The whipping wind carries Mark’s voice back to him. “Don’t you dare cheat again, or the bet’s off—”
“I never agreed to a bet!” Jinyoung stretches his arm forward, fingertips just grazing Mark’s feet.
“Just because you know you can’t win—” Mark’s words cuts off into a surprised yelp as Jinyoung finally gets a grip around his ankle, folds his wings, and becomes dead weight on Mark’s leg. “Jinyoung, what the fuck—”
“What was that you were saying?” Jinyoung says cheerfully as he clings to Mark’s calf. They’re dipping low enough that he has to pull his knees up so his feet don’t kick up pollen from the flowers below. “Earlier, about carrying me? How’s that going for you?”
“Stop messing around!” The reprimand falls flat when Mark laughs through it. “God, Jinyoung, you’re such a baby, stop throwing a tantrum—”
“No.” Jinyoung clings tighter—partly to annoy Mark, but partly because they’re low enough now that Jinyoung can’t stop the foliage below from snatching at his dangling feet.
Mark responds by trying to kick his feet, jolting Jinyoung this way and that. Jinyoung can feel Mark’s boot starting slipping. The idea of being able to hold Mark’s boot hostage for however long he pleases—and avoid a damned morning shift—only makes Jinyoung dig his fingers into the thin leather.
Marks is breathless with the effort of keeping them airborne while Jinyoung continues making his life increasingly difficult. “Gods, you’re gonna pay for this later, I swear—”
“What’re you gonna do?” Jinyoung teases. “Fuck me even harder?”
“You—” Mark pulls to a stop, hovering in air as he gives a particularly enthusiastic kick. The combined momentum sends his boot sailing and Jinyoung along with it.
If Jinyoung hadn’t folded his wings in an effort to be as much dead weight as possible, or if they weren’t already flying so low, he may have been able to catch himself. As it is, he finds himself tumbling directly into the open face of a flower.
Pollen bursts around him in heavy, fragrant plumes and he coughs thickly. He likes pollen as much as the next fairy, but being launched full-body into a cloud of it is a bit much. Never mind that this particular plant’s pollen seems to be unusually sticky and heady, something that would be saved for ceremonies.
Jinyoung blinks, orients himself by finding the sky, and unfolds his wings—or tries to.
“What in the world—?” he mutters, looking back over his shoulder.
His heart drops when he sees the state of his wings.
Usually as fine and reflective as stained glass, they’re dusted now with thick yellow pollen. It looks almost fluffy—but when he tries to unfold his wings, it smears into fine, sticky powder that coats them heavily. Jinyoung gives his wings an experimental flutter and immediately shudders at how wrong it feels, how one of the lightest parts of his body suddenly feels weighed down and stiff.
Jinyoung looks out at the sky, now fully swallowed up by darkness save for the warm glow of a human house nearby. Some fairies are better suited to nighttime, but Jinyoung has never been able to navigate well in the dark, and his minuscule size makes him an easy target in open air.
“This is fine,” Jinyoung mutters to himself. “I will be fine. It’s just an impromptu camping trip. With no supplies. Or way home.”
He sits down heavily on the flower. Too heavily, apparently, as the stem bends and tips him off and onto the soft earth below in a jumble of limbs.
“I’m not that heavy,” Jinyoung grumbles, ego more bruised than his body. Glancing around, he realizes his surroundings look surprisingly promising. The grass here hasn’t been trimmed, standing tall over his head and keeping him well hidden. The flowers above him give good cover—particularly the two massive ones above him, one red and one blue, which carry the pollen that’s giving him such a hard time.
He stalks over to the stems of the two culprits and glares up at them. “I hope you’re pleased with yourselves. All this pollen could’ve gone to continuing your species, but instead you wasted it by ruining my night. Good going.”
He knows the flowers can’t hear him, but it comforts him just a bit to take out his anger on something. Even if that something isn’t sentient.
He scavenges around for particularly robust leaves to make his bed for the night. Once it’s daylight, he figures, he can find the nearby brook, wash himself clean, and return to the village. And kill Mark, probably.
“I will be fine,” he firmly tells himself again as he sets up under the towering red and blue flowers.
After all, he thinks, it’s just one night.
What could happen?