binds of mine

Nessa laughed at Harlow’s sass. Though, in truth she’d probably pay to see the two go at each other. “Hmm. I don’t know that there are many that could catch you.” The witch felt herself relax completely as Harlow settled in her lap, which was without a doubt Harlow’s rightful place.  “Other than me of course.” The pad of her thumb continued to rub small circles against the woman’s leg, her other arm holding her girl close to her. She considered herself beyond lucky to have Harlow, who both accepted the fact that Nessa was busy, but always seemed to make the most of it and stay out of trouble. 

“I’ll let him know that you’re in the market for a garden boy. Though, if you’re wearing this–“ her fingers travelled up her thigh, slipping beneath the fabric around her leg, as if to accentuate that it was extremely short, and not at all something the witch would have approved of outside of the house. It was far from revealing, but it showed just enough and for Nessa that was too much for anyone else’s eyes. “– I don’t think he’d be able to focus on any sort of gardening. I know I wouldn’t.“ Her hand snapped up after the kiss to her cheek, gripping the girls jaw firmly to bring their faces together, stealing a greedy kiss from the other. “I have exquisite taste.” She spoke the words quietly, allowing just enough space between them for their lips to brush with every word she spoke. “And how shall we spend our day, my darling?”

There’s that biting side of Harlow that wants to challenge, to say could you really catch me? But she knows the two truths behind that thought. One, Nessa could. Two, Harlow would let her. Once upon a time, she’d dreamed during long and cold nights in the cells that she would break out and run free -- unable to be contained by any person. Harlow would be truly free. Now she found herself in the home of Nessa and she couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. She’d grown comfortable and content, happy. She had no reason to even want to leave.

Harlow doesn’t even see how she could possibly deserve any of this -- especially Nessa’s attention. There were a number of people who would agree, Harlow’s sure. But for now Nessa seemed content on keeping Harlow around and enjoying her company. She’d enjoy that for as long as she can.

Feeling the brush of the witch’s hand raised goosebumps along her legs. “A purposeful decision. I’d much rather have both your attention on me rather than gardening,” Harlow admitted with a soft laugh, refusing to move away from Nessa. They weren’t close enough. “Hm, I do have a few different ideas....” Harlow admitted before she leaned in to press another kiss to Nessa’s lips. “Depends on what kind of productive you want to be today.” Did Harlow purposely shift her ass in Nessa’s lap? Yes. Yes, she did. “We could have some of our own fun, maybe try out a new thing or two.... Or we could be pious and upstanding and build a birdhouse. There haven’t been any birds and I’ve been really upset about it.” Harlow’s only partially kidding.

It was clear he’d startled Harlow but he couldn’t quite help but be frantic all things considered. However upon hearing that Phen was not dead he did manage to calm himself a bit. Taking a deep breath and moving to the side so that Harlow could come into the apartment. It hadn’t changed much besides it was cleaner than usual with no paper littered about. “He’s never been all together in the head, at least not in the time I’ve known him. You mean to tell me he’s even worse off than he was before?” If that were the case then he was sure Phen was aboard the crazy train for sure.

When asked how long Phen had been gone Maverick had to pause and think about it for a moment. “Three weeks or so?” He didn’t have an exact number of days but three weeks minimum sounded right. “Is he really that unwell that he cant come home? How off is he acting?” 

Harlow walked into the apartment with her attention on her surroundings, not shocked by the appearance since she was entering what might as well be considered a Faerie den. At the mention that he’d been gone for three weeks, it made sense more than ever that Maverick would be so concerned. And it explained a bit of Phen’s behavior.

“He’s not exactly more crazy than his normal self, I don’t think. You know him better. He’s just in and out of consciousness and when he is awake, that guy’s sprouting more gibberish than a two year old.” Not an exact exaggeration. The times that Harlow had been around him whenever he was lucid, she only understood about half of what he said.

“I’m gonna take a guess that he’s been through some shit since he disappeared. Showed up at Nessa’s doorstep thanks to... his sister? I think? He forgets who she is sometimes, but I’m pretty sure it was his sister.” Harlow spun around to look back at Maverick.

The past few weeks had been a whirlwind of all kinds of emotions - first he’d been claimed and all seemed to be going so well. His life finally improving only to take a drastic turn for the worst when Phen didn’t come home one night. At first Maverick had brushed it off - perhaps he had forgotten to tell him he wouldn’t be home. He knew Phen could be spacey at times. Perhaps he’d had urgent business in their realm. Maverick made up a different scenario nearly every day until a week had passed with not a word from his master. 

More information about the breakout of the slaves had begun to spread and he’d heard rumors that they thought it was a fae. It was then that Maverick had just taken to staying in the apartment until things blew over. Another week passed with no word from Phen but he knew he couldn’t stay locked within the apartment for much longer with out possible rousing some kind of suspicion. So Maverick went about his normal routine acting as if nothing was wrong while out in public only to come home to mentally freak out.

He believed it had been around three weeks now since he’d seen the fae last and Maverick was starting to think he’d been abandoned or that Phen was somehow dead. Why or how he wasn’t sure but to go this long without a word meant something had to be terribly wrong. 

Maverick was currently pacing the apartment as he delved further into his own head. He’d heard a knock on the door and had fully intended to ignore it until a voice piped up from behind the door saying it was about Phen. There was a moment of panic as he moved to the door and pulled it open. It was clear from his face he was distraught - normally he was good at playing the stoic one but not now. “Where is he?!? Is he dead? Please tell me he’s not dead!” 

The reaction doesn’t startle Harlow, but she still backed up a few steps when the door opened and she was met with the frantic Maverick. Now she knew it really was a good decision to come and find the other to let him know what had been going on. Not that she knew much of the details beyond the little of him showing up at Nessa’s door and having been at the house. Harlow’s kept her distance from the faerie with the exception of food and occasionally checking on him while he slept. She did more apologizing to Nessa than anything else for dragging the faerie into the house.

“He’s not dead, you can relax,” Harlow insisted with a wave of her hand before crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t know where the hell that guy’s been, he’s not all together in the head, but he’s at Nessa’s house right now.” Which really meant he was probably the safest place he could be right now.

“Mind if I come in?” Harlow asked. “I’ll tell you what I do know which isn’t much but at least its something. How long as he even been gone?”

It took her a bit to get to the building that she’d managed to get out of Phen but she had to ask the front desk of the lavish apartment building which one belong to him. That piece of information had seemed to escape him before he dipped back into crazy town. More than he normally did. Whether or not Maverick would be home, she isn’t sure. If not, she’d leave a note with the front desk. A few minutes later she was all the way to the twelfth floor and knocking on Phen’s door.

“Maverick? It’s me, Harlow. It’s about Phen.” // @maverickvolc​

After much harassment encouragement from the other council members, Nessa had opted to take a day off. She wanted to believe they were concerned for her wellbeing, but the witch had a suspicion it was for their wellbeing. She was overbearing, she knew and could admit it, but if she wasn’t busy she was left to her thoughts and years of solitude had taught her just how dangerous it was. So, she’d always thrown herself into her work, but bringing Harlow into her home had thrown a wrench of sorts into that mix. What was the point in bringing her home, if Nessa was never there? It was the reminder she needed to be home.

So that morning she’d ensured the alarm was off, but left the curtains open, allowing the sun to wake her. Of course, Harlow had already been up and going, sticking to the gardens, which had only reaffirmed Nessa’s decision in choosing Harlow. The two were a good mixture and, of course, the witch did like pretty things and Harlow was certainly among the most beautiful things she’d ever seen. Leaving the woman to her own entertainment, Nessa opted for a place outback, overlooking the forests to read her book. It was one of the few grimoires she’d kept from her ancestors, the language lost to most, though she’d considered translating it into Icelandic, but there was a pride that came with reading a dead language. The occasional glance was cast towards Harlow, lips twitching into a smirk as she took in the little opportunities to admire the other’s figure.

As if she’d heard the thoughts in Nessa’s mind Harlow appeared before the witch, swatting at the old book clutched into her hands. “First, I’m not legally married, nor will I ever be.” Though technically there had been a ceremony of sorts, but.. details. “Second, much like you–” Setting the book on the table beside her, quick to catch Harlow’s hand and pull the woman into her lap. “– he doesn’t seem to fear my wrath anymore, so I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to stop him if I wanted to.” With her shifter settled into her lap, Nessa brushed a stray hair from the other’s face. Her other hand came to rest against Harlow’s thigh, fingers tracing light circles against her oh-so exposed skin. “You’re welcome to bite him if he bothers you, though I should warn you, he’ll likely bite back.”

“He can try biting me back, but he’d have to catch me first,” Harlow sassed as she settled herself into Nessa’s lap where she rightfully belonged. Sure, there’s a perfectly good chair on the other side by why would she bother when she can just enjoy being in the other’s embrace? With Nessa working so much, Harlow wanted to take advantage of it. There had been very little complaint from Harlow with how much the witch worked. Even before being claimed, Harlow understood that the woman was someone busy and important. And with the way the city tended to go... better that Nessa try to keep some resemblance of control.

“If he wanted to pop on over more often, I’m not about to complain. He can help me keep the garden tended.” Whether he liked it or not. If he showed up again, she’d be more than happy to shove a hose in his hand or a pair of gloves and get to it. Leaning forward, she pressed a soft kiss to Nessa’s cheek. “You sure do know how to pick ‘em, you know that? He’s definitely not bad at all.”

There’s a playful smirk on her lips even if she’s trying to keep an innocent expression. Impossible for her, she should know that by now. Especially with Nessa. Harlow couldn’t help but tease the other witch in numerous ways to get her riled up. Part of it was just wanting attention. Another part of it was just loving the look the witch gave her. Harlow wasn’t about to first the first time she walked past Nessa wearing very little.

But not today. She’d spent most of the morning just out in the gardens after a particularly bad night of sleeping. Occasionally insomnia found its way back into her bones and kept her away through the nights. Her father used to make her a drink late into the night when she had trouble sleeping but he’d never passed the recipe on to her when she’d gotten older. Maybe it was hidden in the house somewhere, but Harlow had only gone back once. She needed to make a trip out there but it was hard not to feel a bit of sadness in her chest whenever she did go home.

Harlow made it back outside, the soft but warm spring breeze feeling amazing on her skin. She’d opted for a pair of soft cotton blue short shorts that she often wore to bed and a soft baby pink crop top sweater. A nice combination the showed off her legs and mid-riff. Harlow always enjoyed tempting Nessa. “So is your husband going to end up moving in?” Harlow asked as she came up behind the chairs they’d been occupying earlier. Taking a quick sip from her coffee, she set it down on the table before making a wave with her hand at Nessa’s book. Harlow wanted to sit in Nessa’s lap. // @nessaozmand​

Sitting outside with her journal in the sun and a glass of lemonade in her hand felt like nothing but peace. To think she thought she wouldn’t ever get to feel this again. A part of her still missed her old life but she knew this was better than what that could have held for her in the end. Whether she’d been a slave or not, Harlow would have found trouble.

The antsy feeling began to settle inside of her, a familiar ache to shift. Ever since her brand had been removed, Harlow had taken every opportunity to shift. Now wasn’t any different. Drink set on the table along her her journal, she stretched out before she shift: the tall dark haired beauty changing form until there stood on four paws -- a mountain lion. Familiar these days to Nessa’s property and likely giving some a heartattack.

Harlow prowled along the property, stretching out her limbs and happily moving from one place to another. One of these days she’d go out to the forest and into the mountains -- with a promise to be back before the day ended. She’d been sunbathing in a spot along the side of the property when her ears twitched to a noise and her nose wrinkled as a new scent filled it. Intruder. Harlow was on her paws within a moment and slinking in the direction, hiding between bushes and trees as she stalked her prey.

“First of all, I would never trade Nessa for anyone else. Second of all, who the fuck knows. All the Masters hardly know how to pleasure a woman properly. And the Mistresses are okay. I guess if I have to pick one it would be that Brenna lady.”

“Now aren’t you just a sweetheart. Thank you, I’m very aware. Stunning and dangerous.” 

Harlow had never liked being a slave. Her freedom ripped away from her, unable to shift, and constantly having to play games just to find time out of the cells. Oh, she could certainly woo and dance in circles, but she always found herself back in the cells. Bittersweet considering most of the masters and mistresses that came through only made Harlow roll her eyes but she wanted her freedom. It was a hard line to cross between. Harlow didn’t want to be under the command of someone else — she wanted to be her own person living her own life the way she had been once upon a time. And then Nessa came along. A shocking turn of events — the famous witch that she’d heard so much about who was cold as ice. That’d certainly not been the case.

And since being claimed by Nessa, she’d been happily content. Strange considering she’d always imagined that as soon as she was claimed there would be some extravagant escape plan so she could be her own person. But Harlow enjoyed spending time with Nessa. And better, the witch seemed to have no qualms about letting Harlow do what she pleased — within reason. So she’d spent the beginning of her time with Nessa making herself feel at home.

Harlow took the time to make herself home into the gardens that Nessa had — getting to know each plant before she added her own, feeling back home. It was surprising how much she’d missed it and admittedly she spent quite a bit of time out in the gardens. What she really enjoyed was being able to shift. There were many occasions where Harlow would not only prowl the property, but even just lay in a patch of sun in the gardens. People were intimidated by Nessa before… a mountain lion on her property? Harlow dared anyone to come try to cause trouble.

“Sit your ass down.” Nessa hated how much the though of Harlow going ‘elsewhere’ made her bristle. Jealousy was certainly an unflattering trait and the witch had never considered it one of hers until she met the demon. Now she took note of every glance that was cast at the other woman, making mental notes of the guards she’d have Chance reprimand for some reason or another. “I’m making a case to the council for a garden and some other meaningful tasks to give you lot in here.” She nodded with her head towards an open space that was filled with a couple of slaves just lounging in the sun. “My main argument is that you could grow your own food and save us money in the long run.” She knew there was no reason to be telling the slave her plans, but she enjoyed sharing her thoughts with the woman. 

Harlow made no attempt at hiding the smirk that appeared from Nessa’s words - a little too happy that the other wanted her around rather than galavanting around the yard. Really, even if Nessa had told her to go off, Harlow would have found one way or another to mess with the Mistress from afar. Carefully, Harlow sat down beside Nessa, leaning back with her hands digging into the dirt as she glanced over the open space. A garden. That’s certainly not something she’d expect to find for the slaves. She wondered if it had anything to do with their conversation at her house mansion. No. “It would be a good idea and I think there are plenty of people in this shit-hole that would enjoy having a little more control over the food they’re able to eat. I can teach them,” Harlow offered with a slight shrug of her shoulders. She didn’t want to be stuck in the cells but she’d happily take ownership over the garden. “I’m sure if you spin it to be beneficial for the council and the city, they’ll go for it.”

“Hurry up, lady, we ain’t got all day!” the guards barked from their stations, watching as Miranda meandered among the cells, stopping to study each of the cowering slaves held within as she passed.  Normally very calculated, she didn’t appreciate the pressure; after all, this was her first time ever selecting a slave–her first time selecting another being whom she could use for her own pleasure.  In whichever way she liked.  All of it is very unsettling, yet it was also something Miranda knew was about to become her new normal.  Might as well get used to it now.

Finally she came to a halt in front of one of the cells, pointing toward the slave sat in the far corner.  Miranda called out toward the guards.

“Th-this one’ll do.”  

Harlow glanced up when she heard a commotion, a bored expression on her face as she looked from the mistress to the guard and then back to the mistress. Oh. This would be interesting. Harlow could only assume that the woman was gesturing to her since her other cellmates were currently off elsewhere. “Are you sure about that?” Harlow asked as she stood up from her cot and walked over to the cells bars. She hated that it was more crowded now, three cots alone took up too much room let alone three whole people. “I bite.” Better to be honest.

It wasn’t often that the witch spent her time just sitting in Le Chateau, spending the majority of her time in the prison slaves’ home ensuring they were all being met with the basics needed to live. She knew that wasn’t her job, but Nessa was a control freak and insisted she keep her nose in everyone’s business – though she did it as discreetly as possible. Today, however, she’d simply sat in the courtyard, eyeing the layout and trying to decide if it was indeed feasible to place a garden out there. She knew there would be a few that would want to destroy it, but she was certain there was a spell to prevent that. 

“What are you doing?“ Her bright gaze snapped lifted to the source of movement that had forced her from her planning, brow arched as she looked them over. 

Harlow waited with bated breath for the guards to open up her cell, to send her off for her free time. Normally she would have been dragging her feet, not giving a shit and giving the guards a hard time. Might have even started an argument for the hell of it. What did she have to lose? But Harlow had overheard of a visitor at Le Chateau and the moment she confirmed who was visiting, she’d wanted out. Harlow wasted no time in getting out to the yard, not surprised at all by the greeting from the witch considering she’d come up with quite a bit of eagerness. Shit. Way to give herself away. “I came to give you something pretty to stare at. Better than the ground.” Harlow said as she set her hands on her hips. “But I can take my ass elsewhere if you want?” She questioned, a smirk on her lips.

“Probably because that’s not really what your position allows for,” Cal shrugged. He did have some pity for the slaves. He knew their lives weren’t easy, and he couldn’t imagine how angry he would be if he were in their shoes. But…it was what it was. “Don’t you get into trouble for being so difficult?”

“Trouble follows me around anywhere, I learned that a long time ago,” Harlow said but with a fond smile on her lips. She could remember her younger years, when freedom might along its own bit of troubles. Harlow had always called herself a magnet. So had her father when she’d been even younger. “You learn pretty quickly how to diffuse a situation when you need to or take the result. Especially if I’m the troublemaker. Which, I will point out, I’m not always the troublemaker.”

“Mmmm, I don’t think it’ll take very long. I’m a very impressive man.” Cal winked at her as he took a sip of his strong drink. Given that he truly did believe that everyone’s destinies were in their own hands, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes at her answer. “You know, everyone seems to think that if you’re in a shitty situation, nothing will ever be in your control again. I didn’t ask to be attacked and bitten by a werewolf, but I took that experience and made it work for me. Just because you don’t like where you’re at doesn’t mean your destiny isn’t yours to make.” 

Harlow swirled the wine around in her glass as she gave the man a hard stare. “Alright, color me curious.” She straightened up where she sat on the stool, facing Cal and leaning into the counter. “If you were in my position, how would you make it work for you?” Harlow brought her glass up to her lips, taking a small sip before she set it back down. “How would you make this situation your destiny to make?”