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sweetie fairy

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Claude opened his eyes and saw a small human standing by his pillow. 

A miniature of a woman, tiny enough to sit on his palm, with white hair and pink eyes and wearing a purple dress. 

Right, anaesthetics, he thought, and closed his eyes. 

When he opened them again, the tiny person was still there, now with her hands on her hips. Upon a closer examination, he saw that she had an angry expression on her face, and her mouth was moving, trying to shout something at him, like...

"...rude! Hiding your teeth like that..."

Claude scrunched his eyebrows, trying to make sense of the situation with what little thinking power he had left after the wisdom teeth removal. 

"Tooth fairy?" he asked, pronunciation slightly slurred.

When he was younger, tiny people like her visited his room at nights, whenever he lost his baby teeth. They were always surprised to see him awake so late, and told him that he had to go to sleep. Their job was to take the tooth and leave a gift in exchange, and apparently it was something they could only do while humans were asleep. 

Naturally, little Claude used to exploit this by holding his teeth hostage and forcing the fairies to play with him until he tired out. 

(In his defense, he was lonely and didn't have any friends back then.)

At any rate, it had been a long time since he'd reminisced of those nights, Claude realized. He never knew tooth fairies came to adults, too, but...

"...don't have time to waste, so please, hand them over."

...he wasn't complaining, not when this one was so easy on the eyes. He wasn't sure exactly how fairies aged, but her physical proportions suggested that she was older than the round, chubby ones from his childhood— maybe a young adult, like him. 

She still looked rather babyfaced, but hey, babyfaced adults existed. The sheer, skimpy dress she wore certainly didn't look like it was designed for children. (Not that he knew much about fairy fashion.)


Suddenly curious as to what material her clothes were made of, Claude reached out to grab the edge of her skirt with his index finger and thumb.

"Did you hear m— hey!"

The fairy stumbled back in shock, and the whole dress tore away. 


The answer to his question: it was made of a petal-like material. Also, fairies did not wear underwear. 

Sorry, Claude thought, but the word didn't come out. He hadn't done that on purpose, he truly hadn't— but the anaesthetics were messing with him, making him act strange. 

Making him stare at her bare body, tiny but perfectly formed.

"You pervert!" she shouted, trying to hide herself behind her arms a second too late. 

Claude fussed to place the scraps on his palm and hold it out. The fairy scrambled to retrieve them, but discoordination on both of their parts resulted in her stumbling over, face down, onto his hand.

It was probably inappropriate that he looked at her helpless backside and thought, that's a nice ass. 

And whatever self-control he had in the situation left when she squirmed, her soft torso rubbing against his fingers— so with an internal utterance of, fuck it, not like this can get any weirder, he lifted his other hand and placed a pinky on her lower back.

The fairy went still, perhaps out of fear. Claude made sure to be gentle as he began to stroke her, first on her ass, then her upper thighs, then between them, againsy a tiny spot that felt wetter and hotter than the rest of her skin. 

Eventually— very slightly— she bucked against his finger, trying to establish a rhythm. When he abrubtly took it away, he saw that the tip was slightly moist. 

The fairy wriggled in his hand, obviously frustrated. 

"You liked that, didn't you," he teased, to which the fairy responded by pounding her fists against his palm. (It didn't hurt one bit.)

His boxers were getting uncomfortably tight now, so he reached down to pull them down. The fairy jolted, sitting upright with her eyes wide like (miniature) saucers.

"Relax, relax," he whispered. "I won't put it anywhere near you. I doubt it's physically possible to, well, you know."

She muttered something under her breath, probably something like, "You better not." 

Claude slightly grinned as he grabbed the base of his cock and adjusted his position to be more comfortable. He moved his other hand so that the fairy would be within a comfortable viewing distance, then lightly cleared his throat. 

"It's not fair if I'm the only one who gets to feel good, is it," he said. "You can use my hand, if you'd like."

For a few moments, she simply sat there with a disgruntled, embarassed expression as he began to slowly pump his shaft. Her legs were crossed and her arms were still covering her tiny (both to him, and to her own frame) breasts, but Claude found that he didn't need to see all those parts to grow aroused. 


Having such a delicate, tiny creature in his hand, bare and helpless, while he did something so vulgar and lewd. 

All that fantastic nostalgia from his childhood, overlapping with this decidedly adult activity. 

It was surreal, and exciting.

"Such a pretty fairy..."

The atmosphere must have gotten to her, too, because slowly, her arms unfurled, and she began to toy with her breasts, tiny hands pinching and fondling miniscule pink nipples. When her other hand went between her legs, Claude forced his own breathing to slow so he could listen to her noises. 

"Yes— like that."

She seemed to respond well to encouragement, judging by how she moved to straddle one of his fingers. She was dripping wet now, slick covering his skin as she began to slide her hips back and forth, eyes closed and tongue sticking out. 

Claude's hand sped up to match her— imagining that, she'd do that on his cock if she could, and if that wasn't possible, she'd still use every inch of her little body to get him off. 

What an adorable sight that would be, he thought, balls tightening as his orgasm built. 


The fairy came seconds before he did, shivering and back arching and crying out loud enough for him to hear. She then collapsed forward in his palm, flushed and sweaty. Once he wiped the cum his other hand off on his stomach, Claude pet her on the head with his fingertip— 


—where she suddenly kissed him, lips oh-so-tiny yet soft.

Claude lay there for a few seconds, dazed. 

Or, considering what she was, charmed might have been the more accurate word.

The fairy hopped off his hand when he stirred again, presumably to leave.

"Wait, wait," he said, rolling to other side of the bed. "You have to take the teeth, right?"

Claude opened the nightstand drawer and took out a plastic container and a headband. He opened the container and placed the teeth in front of the fairy, then held up the headband against her torso. 

"Sorry about your dress earlier," he said, carefully wrapping her in the fabric. 

The fairy sighed and took over covering herself in the makeshift dress, somehow securing it around herself without any strings or safety pins. She then raised her hands to her mouth to shout,

"I'm an employed adult, you know, not a child— I can easily buy a new one!"

Claude chortled, but before he could ask about how fairy economies and job markets worked, his eyelids slid down. 

"...heard some humans were into fairies like that, but... never thought... hmph."

He caught some words of her muttering to herself as he sank into sleep— and he hadn't noticed it before, but she had a rather nice voice, too.

"...Oh well. Here's your gift."

The last thing he felt before losing consciousness was a soft touch on his cheek, and overwhelming relief. 

It was several days before Claude went to his favorite dessert café again. His recovery from the wisdom teeth extraction was unusually quick, with minimal swelling, but it never hurt to be safe, so he waited as long as the doctors had instructed, and then some. 

"Three shots of syrup, please. Plus five chocolate chip cookies— and a velvet cake muffin, please, thanks."

And for some reason, he'd been craving an awful lot of sweets since then. 

Surely it can't have anything to do with that fairy, he thought, turning around with the cup of mocha latte and paper bag full of sweets—


—and almost crashed into someone. 

Claude blinked and glanced down at the slim young woman in front of him. 

Snow white hair, purple sweater, and, a patterned headband tied around one of her sidelocks. 

"Rude," she muttered under her breath, then looked up at him. "Please, do watch where you're goi—"

Claude couldn't help but grin when she cut off mid-sentence, and flushed pink like her wide eyes. 

"Sorry about that," he said. "Guess I can't say that I didn't see you, huh?"


He winked and shook the bag of cookies at her. 

"If you've got time to waste, I'll treat you to these, and more."