#she’s got some funny white-shafted feathers coming in on her chest??? like she’s maybe a secret birchen in disguise???

[superfluffychickens]

Behold, she is Tall and Mighty!

[brownskinsugarplum76]

Eye of the Storm, Ch 9

Got a little more NSFW, smutty hanky- panky for you. Maggie contemplates the life of a burgeoning rock star with a megastar boyfriend, and Robert gets vulnerable while in a vulnerable position. 😈 Thank you @firethatgrewsolow for the talk on the relationship angst.

Just want to reiterate that this story is AU--I make mention of Robert not being married. ❤️❤️❤️

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After some hushed pillow talk and more teasing and connecting of their bodies, Robert and Maggie drifted off to sleep.

Some time later, Maggie woke up, enveloped in Roberts arms, to moonlight flooding the room and the muted sound of the ocean. She smelled her perfume on him, mixed with his earthy, masculine scent. He was sleeping on his back and snoring softly. He’d piled his hair behind his head in hopes of cooling down after their lengthy tryst.

She nuzzled her cheek against his chest fuzz. It was one of her favorite places in the world to be, and it felt good to be back.

She had missed him, as she always did when tour dates or oceans separated them.

The lengthy gaps in their connections were the worst part of their unique relationship. Robert was always eager to wallow in the things that excited him about America while in the country, always eager to spend as much time with her as possible, but once his plane pointed toward England, things weren’t the same between them. He’d told her that he needed a few weeks alone to shake off his tour persona, but by then he was off to another pub or soccer pitch with his best mates, and English life with family and friends became far more seductive than she was.

Eventually he’d come around and they’d reconnect through letters and calls. She could feel his laughter during their phone conversations, and his sexy murmur still affected her from thousands of miles away when he unleashed it, but there was always a slight sense of distance. She knew that he didn’t have a wife and kids waiting for him, like Bonzo and Jonesy, and she knew that he cared for her, but he could not be moved from his wish for sanctuary and time for the rambunctious US fans and silver-tongued hangers-on to fade away.

It, by far, was the worst part of their arrangement, worse than knowing that Robert was galavanting with other women while on tour. There was no human competition; instead, there was a wall he’d built to guard his real life. She was glad to hear him admit earlier, at last, that the distance between them, this time apart in the same big state, hurt him as much as it hurt her.

It was satisfying to hear Robert speak from his heart, without hiding behind jokes or the sweet diversion of his seduction. She hoped this revelation, and the bond that would be formed with their extended time together, would lead to her first trip to his country sometime soon.

Maggie loved that Robert was so unflinchingly sure about his vision for their future, and she was beyond excited about it, but she wondered what would happen when they encountered people who didn’t care about any of that.

She had recently became more aware of the perks of being a front woman, and she could understand why being the lead singer was such a drug for Robert and others. The reaction from her regional touring was much more intense than when her band played the hyperlocal bar circuit in San Diego. It was new and exciting, she had to admit–having such a large number of eyes on her, knowing the crowd had felt and enjoyed the energy she gave to them, feeling the rush of their collective, appreciative energy washing powerfully over her, and gaining groupies of her own.

She knew her throng of admirers was nowhere near the harem that often waited for Robert backstage, a spectacle she had witnessed plenty of times, but there were men who showed up with flowers and flattering words for her, more than before. Their smiles were sometimes admiring, sometimes leering. Many of them made her skin crawl, or she sensed a creepy, possessive threat behind their flirtation. But some were men who sincerely enjoyed her music and wanted to spend a little more time with her. Some of that number were cute, too cute to resist. She had found herself in this same nighttime cuddling position with those men, but she could say it never felt as right as it did with Robert.

She sighed and stretched her legs. Robert stirred and held her tighter without waking up. The thoughts of future tour life persisted. She realized that it had been a few years since Robert last brought up the topic of her post-concert nights. Robert had told her many times that he couldn’t possibly demand exclusivity from her, knowing his reality, and now she wondered if his lack of curiosity was due to an easygoing spirit or a delicate heart. Only time would tell, under their new arrangement.

Knowing those concerns could wait, she turned her attention back to Robert. Even asleep, without his expressive face in motion and his arsenal of charming words, he was irresistible. His classical jawline was relaxed, with his mouth open slightly, but his eyelashes fanned over his skin, creating a shy, boyish expression. It made her wonder what the schoolboy version of Robert had looked like.

Fully awake now, she decided to rouse him for some company. She gingerly pulled back the covers. By the light of the moon she could see his chest gracefully rising and falling, the soft ripples of his abdomen, his dormant manhood, which still teased with possibility, and his sturdy thighs.

She wanted to trail her tongue and lips over every inch of his skin, but she knew that focusing on his sex would be the most efficient way to get his attention.

She wrested herself from his embrace as slowly as possible, and then she headed south. She trailed a finger down the length of his cock which, in its relaxed state, was still larger than what some of the groupies presented to her. She sighed and shuddered with delight as some of the best moments of the last few hours played themselves back in her mind and body.

She lifted and encircled her fingers around Robert’s manhood, licking him to life with straight and circular lashes, similar to the varied methods with which she polished off her ice cream cone during the day. Back at her car, Robert had given a blow-by-blow (as he insisted on calling it) commentary on her ice cream consumption and became engrossed in her work to the point that his cone started to melt and drip down his hand. The thought made her chuckle with pride while she continued her current labor of love.

“Mmmm… What’s so funny?” The vibrations of her laughter had done the trick. “He not getting there fast enough for you, lusty woman? Even he needs a rest from time to time.” Robert’s voice was more breathy and husky than usual upon waking up, and the sultry tone made a strong current of need surge inside of Maggie.

She paused and crawled up to kiss Robert insistently. “I was just thinking of how much you like this.”

“That I do, love…” Robert propped himself up with pillows while she headed back to his lap and continued. He smoothed her hair out of her face. She looked up at him briefly and her eyes did the smiling while her mouth was completely preoccupied with the full swell of Robert’s sex. And then, eyes closed, she continued.

“My favorite was that one time we flew from LA to Seattle. Remember? The turbulence? Ah, the sweet feel of your mouth, the tease of life and death in the balance with each unexpected dip of the plane… I tried to get you back in your seat, but you were committed… Fuck, ‘til the very end… Every last drop… Best flight since the first time we left the British Isles… We’ll have to see if our schedules align for the long flight to Texas next year, love… Mmm…”

Maggie opened her eyes briefly and saw Robert’s head slowly roll backward. His lips were slightly parted, and she could hear his hungry breathing.

"You always did spoil me, Mags. Mmmmm…" He inhaled sharply as she teased his sensitive underside.

"Now's my turn to spoil you… Breakfast in bed, coming up in a few hours. Full English. I love Betsy’s cooking dearly, but you Yanks just don't have that touch of English domestic magic. Had to get my mum to ship some packages of our bacon, even. You can only eat those American fried fat strips so many times you know?"

"Fuck, darlin'... Feels like you could be down there for the next couple of weeks, if I let you! Mmmmm…" He held her hair tighter with one hand, while the other migrated from a shoulder to one of her breasts. He put the pad of his thumb to work on her nipple, adding to the pleasure she was getting from his reactions.

He started to thrust lightly. “I know exactly which stores we should visit for your tour wardrobe. But why don’t you also pick out a few things of mine? I’d love to see someone wear that black bolero again… The one with the white trim that I was still wearing around the time we met? Won’t be fitting me anytime soon…”

Maggie moved one of her hands to cup Robert’s heavy-laden balls as she continued to bob her head and corkscrew her other hand on the expanse of his shaft.

Robert groaned and his body became restless with the slow build of pleasure. “I had a dream about you onstage… Couldn’t get your moves out of my mind, I suppose… Perfectly filled pair of hot pants and the tiniest T-shirt that put your tits in the spotlight… I was in the front row, and you kissed me. I fully enjoyed being on that side of the groupie exchange. Let’s just say I showed my appreciation of you in your limo... You almost screamed as loud as you did in the kitchen earlier!” His pride in his dream performance pulled the corners of his mouth into a Chesire cat grin.

“But you know, I must see your lovely ass in some leather pants. Maybe a leather halter, too? I saw a bit of Chaka Khan in concert, and she had on a sexy ensemble like that… Leather, feathers… It would look great on you, too.”

Robert moved his hands to Maggie’s shoulders and thrusted deeper.

“Fuck! Woman… Uh…”

Robert’s chatter dissolved into agonized moans for a time before he continued. “I’ll… I’ll need a private concert, of course… Uh… Yes, love… Right there… It’s high bloody time I cash in on the perks of rock royalty, you know? I can see it now, the band breaking into a saucy rhythm, and mi amor, all hips and waist movement and flying hair… And… And.. Ohhhhh… That voice…”

Robert closed his eyes and let his body take over. His hands flew to the sides of her head as he chased the climax on the horizon.

“I bought a bootleg of one of your concerts… Forgive me, love, but I know you have some of ours! Uh… Uh… Shit, I’m almost there!” he hissed. “I couldn’t stop listening to ‘Last Night.’ That’s my favorite, I think… Reminds me of us! ‘Last night, when we rocked and rolled, oh, you struck my soul, and you filled that hole in my heart.’” He gathered the last of his waning strength to belt out the song, the same as she had.

“You really lost yourself in the song… Your voice! So wild. Fuck! Baby… Yes, Maggie, yes, Maggie, yessssss… Uh… The first time I heard the boot… Hot as fuck… I couldn’t help myself, I… I… Uh… Ohhhhh, baby, yes… I thought of you on top of me, and I… Made me so fucking hard… My hands… Needed you… Had to make do… But not tonight, baby… Not tonight, not tomorrow… You’re here… In my life, in my house, my bed… Right where you should be… I’m so glad you… Ohhh…. Oh! Fuck! I…” Robert’s body stiffened suddenly and his seed coursed. His final moan rolled on for almost as long as his climactic note in Kashmir.

Maggie’s lips softened their grip as she withdrew his cock. She kissed the glistening head before retiring to Robert's outstretched arms.

“I’ve never been so happy to be up at 4 a.m.,” he said, glancing at the glow-in-the-dark clock. “Hell of a wake-up call, Magdalena dear…”

"Great conversation," she teased. “Can't wait for this breakfast you've promised."

"You'll have to wait a little for that meal, but I'm going to have a delightful feast now…" He guided Maggie to rest in his spot on the bed, and with the first stroke of his tongue in her sex, she knew breakfast could wait.

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The rest of my stories are here, or search for the hashtag #brownskinsugarplumlibrary

[somefinelipstickonthatpig]

(abt that smoke au) Please for the love of Laphicet write that I will dance at your wedding

well gET UR DANCIN SHOES READY BUD cuZ HERE WE GO !!

Canon-divergent drabble in the Tintagel Ruins where the scene in which Sorey gets locked in the chamber happens just a little differently.

[also for Sormik Week 2017 - Day 8: Katz’ Korner, Free Day since I could write whatever I wanted to my heart’s content so heRE HAVE SOME REQUESTED DR A MA and a little fluff at the end cuz i love these two]

When Rose first said, “Whoops,” Sorey should have known that wouldn’t bea good sign. “Don’t you ‘whoops’ me!” he had cried, fumbling for the gap in thewall to the left. Rose just laughed. When she said, “Whoops,” again for the secondtime, Mikleo beside him grumbled with his arms crossed over his chest, “Whatdoes she mean by that?” and Soreywasn’t sure he wanted to know.

The third time she made some sort of surprised sound was the moment itall went downhill.

Steam hissed into the room from a corner Sorey couldn’t identify, thoughhe tried to find it.

Edna whistled long and low. She lifted her closed parasol to her slendershoulder and tapped it once, twice. “Well. Things just got interesting,” shemused.

“Uh—sorry, Mr. Shepherd! Dunno what that did but I’ll see if I can turnit off…!” Rose’s voice traveled to them from behind the thick wall. “Obviouslyit didn’t open up the door, so…uh, how about this one?” As she spoke, a collectionof shafts dotting the upper walls of their enclosure slid open. Moresmoke—colored oddly, Sorey couldn’t help but notice—filtered slowly into theroom.

Mikleo huffed, “That is the oppositeof helping!”

The Shepherd laughed nervously. “It’s okay…!” He called out, both for theseraphim around him and the human who couldn’t hear them still fiddling in theroom beyond. He scratched the back of his head and then shrugged. He turned tothe others. “Here, maybe there’s a way to make that stop on our end. C’mon,let’s check it out.”

Soreylead his team around the room, meticulously examining every wall. He placed hisfingers to every crevice, pressed into each nook he could reach. Edna stompedon the floor pattern with her overlarge boots, mumbling something about thisentire venture being “stupid.” Lailah hummed, eyes following the images alongthe walls with her bright green eyes for guidance. Her fingers hovered justabove the stone surface.

Mikleonever once left Sorey’s side. Perhaps that was why he was the first to noticewhen Sorey’s breathing started to change.

“Sorey?”

Soreycoughed into his hand lightly once and then twice. He shook his head andblinked his eyes hard. “I’m fine,” he answered, his voice quiet. He winced andlifted a hand to his throat. “Just getting sore, I guess. Weird.”

Mikleofrowned but said nothing.

Afew minutes later, Sorey coughed again. His shoulders curled inward. Mikleo’shands shot out and hovered. “Do you need some water?” he asked.

Soreyshook his head again. He waved a hand. “No, it’s passed.” He turned to thewater seraph with a bright and brave grin. “But thanks! C’mon, there’s gotta besomething here that’ll turn that weird smoke off. Let’s see if we can find it.”

Mikleolet his hands fall to his sides. His eyes lifted to the ceiling, now filledwith the smoke in question. He watched the way the clouds of it slowly driftedwith an odd odor and hue, circulating and churning around itself.

Aheavy stone settled in his gut when Sorey swayed and coughed again. TheShepherd put out a hand to steady himself against the wall they were beside. Thesudden attack was rougher than before; it drew the attention of the two otherseraphim in the room. Edna tapped her parasol against her shoulder. Lailah’sface grew tight. The fire seraph walked over.

“Sorey?”Lailah called.

“It’sokay,” Sorey responded with a bare-bones chuckle. It was weak. Mikleo couldn’thelp but notice the sweat that now dotted the human’s brow. There was an odd,thin strain to his breath. “I’m fine.”

Sorey’sshoulder crashed into the wall with his next lung-rattling cough a few minuteslater. His body sagged against the stone.

“Sorey!”

Lailahand Mikleo were there in moments. Mikleo took his shoulders and eased him tothe floor. Lailah hovered in front of the Shepherd, her hands torn betweenreaching for his fevered skin and clasping each other in front of her.

“Ohdear…!” she gasped. “He’s so pale…!”

“Sorey!”Mikleo called, tucking him against his chest. He could feel every shake ofjagged breath in his friend’s form and his hot pants for air, short and pained.

“I’mfine,” Sorey whispered. “It’s okay. I just…gotta figure out how to—“

“—Sorey,you’re not fine,” Mikleo corrected.His head snapped up; his violet gaze swept the room. “Edna!” he called to theearth seraph now standing in front of the wall that had imprisoned them. “Can’tyou do something about this?”

Ednaturned. Her glare, even from across the room, was edged with daggers. “In caseyou haven’t noticed, Meebo, I’m an earth seraph. I can’t do anything aboutpoisonous gas and weak humans.”

Lailahmade a soft sound. “Poisonous—“

Mikleoshook his head. “I know that, youidiot! I wasn’t talking about the gas; I was talking about the door! We need toget Sorey out of here! Now!”

Edna’seyes lit up with something dangerous. Her body fell still. “What did you just call me…?”

“What’sgoing on in there?” Rose’s muffled voice carried through the thick stone. “Everythingokay? I can hear a weird hissing sound, but not much else. You still kickin’Mr. Shepherd?”

Lailahjumped to her feet. “Rose!” she called. “Rose, you have to hurry! Sorey’s in abad way!”

Therewas no response from the assassin just outside their room.

Edna’sgaze drifted to the wall. The tip of her parasol dropped from her shoulder andto the ground. “Well. So much for that; she still can’t hear us, it seems.”

“Shecan’t—“ Sorey’s voice was haggard. He coughed again; Mikleo was half afraid thehuman in his arms would upheave his own lungs with each rough jerk. An odd lookentered Sorey’s wide green eyes; something born at the intersection of fear andresignation. “—well,” Sorey gasped thinly. “That’s…not good.”

“Brilliantdeduction, Sherlock,” Edna mumbled.

“Edna,this isn’t funny.”

“DoI sound like I’m laughing, Meebo?”

“Guys,”Sorey breathed. His fingers reached up for Mikleo’s tunic. Tanned fingers duginto white-spiraled teal. “Stop it. We gotta…” A thin, high and whispy thingcame out of the Shepherd. “…gotta get out of this.”

“Weneed to get you out of this, Sorey,”Mikleo stressed. He squeezed the Shepherd’s shoulder and could feel Sorey’sform shake and labor to breathe. How strange it suddenly seemed to the seraph inthat contact that so small a thing such as badair could wipe away a life. Humansare different from us, Mikleo, Zenrus had always said.

Nowthat the difference was tangible under his fingers, Mikleo wasn’t sure he likedthe reminder as to just how fragile humans could be.

“Yes,”Lailah agreed. “And we need to hurry. Perhaps…perhaps if one of us were toarmatize with him? We could blast our way out and—“

Soreyshook his head. The world swam in front of his eyes with the motion. “—but, theruins…”

“Sorey.You’re really gonna worry aboutkeeping the ruins intact when I’m pretty sure it’s this ruin that is killing you right now?”Mikleo’s voice lacked all humor as Edna stepped over to the huddle around thefallen Shepherd.

“Tintagel…”Sorey rasped. He coughed violently. “…there’s…so much history here. We…we gottagive it its chance to tell us its story. To…to explore it all—“

“—oh,just shut up already,” Edna deadpanned. She stuck her hand out towards theShepherd pointedly. “You can’t explore if you’re dead, idiot. And neither willyou be able to help my brother like you promised. So suck it up and armatizewith me. I’ll make sure your stupid ruin stays safe.”

Soreyraised glassy green eyes to the earth seraph. His exhale struggled to fullycome out of him. “You will?”

“Ohmy gosh,” Edna rolled her eyes so farback, they may have gone into her head for a moment. She squatted down andsnatched up one of Sorey’s limp hands in her own. “You’re as bad as Meebo. Justsay my name and let’s get this over with already.”

“Hey!”

“O-okay.”Sorey’s quiet voice wavered. He took a breath and tried to squeeze Edna’s handback. “Then let’s…l-let’s go.” He took another breath and for a moment, Mikleoworried he wouldn’t be able to get the words out.

Then,he whispered, “Hephsin Yulind,” andthere was a great flash of light.

Rosejumped the instant she heard an explosion from some place behind her. Her headsnapped around, blue eyes wide. “What the—?”

Withoutwasting a second, she scurried back to the room she had left the Shepherd in.The large door that she had shut between them was burst to pieces as if asingle powerful punch had been given to its center and torn all the stoneasunder. Dust was still settling from the blast. In the doorway, looking paleand weak and surrounded by a strangely-colored smoke that spilled out into thehallway from the chamber, stood the Shepherd himself.

Hislegs shook.

Hereyes widened even further.

“Is…”he began. His voice sounded weak. “…is the door okay?”

“U-uh—“Rose wasn’t sure the door should be the Shepherd’s priority right at themoment.

Blearily,those green eyes turned to the stone that had crumbled to the floor around him.Stone he had, she was assuming, somehow blasted aside in his effort to get out.At whatever he saw, the young man nodded, his feathered earrings dancing tosome unknown question that hadn’t been asked.

“Isee,” he said. Then he collapsed.

Astrange wind blew in from behind Rose and swept the smoke away.

“Sorey,we’ve got to stop doing this.”

“Iknow.”

Mikleopressed cool fingers to the Shepherd’s brow, feeling the poison-fueled heatstill simmering underneath his human’s skin. He wet his fingers again with asmall spell and watched as Sorey’s eyes fluttered at the renewed contact whenhe placed his fingers at the tip of the human’s forehead.

“Heythough, this time,” Sorey murmured back, rough and quiet. He coughed weakly.“It’s not my fault.”

Mikleo’seyes flickered up to look at the assassin who was in the middle of aconversation with another member of her Sparrowfeather group. Rose had a tightfrown on her face; her arms were crossed over her chest. “Yeah, I know,” hemumbled.

Soreycoughed again, a harsh and grating sound rising up from deep within.

Mikleoleaned back. “Do you need to sit up?”

Soreyshook his head. A few harrowed breaths later, he calmed. One hand clung tightto the collar of his dark blue button-up as the other rested on his stomachover the blanket lying across him. His exhale seemed to rattle his whole body.“Ugh. I feel awful, Mikleo.”

Mikleolistened as the human’s breathing slowly evened out. He nodded. “Yeah, well.That’s ancient poison for you.”

“It’s…notgoing to kill me, right?”

“Sorey,”Mikleo chided with a small and knowing smile. “Do you think I’d let it?Besides, you’re past the worst of it by this point.”

Soreylooked up. He grinned back. “Oh. Yeah. I guess that was a silly question, huh?”

Mikleoput his chilled fingers to his best friend’s brow again. Gentle pressure,soothing, and caring. Sorey’s eyes slipped shut. “The silliest thing I’ve heardall day,” he fondly murmured—and that, he knew, was saying something.