A Solider, A Barmaid And A Closet
"What can I get you?" the blonde Sorcerer Weekly cover girl beamed at him.
He frowned. He was in every way her enemy yet she still smiled? Something here was very wrong.
It could be the fact that his eyes once glanced down at her cleavage, that his mind entertained for a second on taking the woman to bed before he reminded himself that he despised Fairy Tail and everything they stood for.
Those would be prime examples.
"A green tea," he replied stiffly, trying to not let his mind wander through the more lecherous side that was threatening to come through his iron will.
Mirajane continued to smile, turning to get the kettle on the little fire stove hidden in the corner behind the bar, her moves efficient. As expected for a bar maid.
And with the curves of one too, Lahar thought traitorously as his eyes examined her conservative attire of a black dress but still curved over her bountiful derriere.
While he would never act on it, it never hurt to appreciate the beauty of others and his lavender eyes were too caught up with the view, he hadn't realised he had been caught before the soft lilting voice teased him.
"I didn't realise that women interested you, Lahar," her giggle managed to snap him out of whatever spell had caught over him and his mouth tightened as he straightened in his seat, his back going impossibly erect.
"I don't believe my sexuality should be in any of your thoughts, Miss Strauss," he primly pushed his glasses up his nose, his fingers that were clenched over the bar top almost snapping the wood.
Although, as much as it pained him to admit it, an unknown blush that was just hiding just under his skin was threatening to make itself known for getting caught and it was only sheer force of will that stopped it from coming out and decorating his cheeks.
There was a chink as the tea cup and saucer was placed in front of him.
Nodding his thanks, he accepted the delicate tea cup and took a measured sip while the woman in front of him continued to clean mugs with a practiced hand, that small beam never leaving her cute and pinked mouth-
A lump which he never known was there, blocked his airway at the lust filled thoughts and he cleared his throat desperately which had Mirajane raising her head, looking at him expectantly.
Not willing to awkwardly explain, he let one of his questions that had been on the tip of his tongue from the moment he stepped into the Fairy's Guildhall.
"Where are all your…" he trailed off, not wanting to call them criminals to her face, knowing that she probably had more magic skill in one pinkie finger than in his whole body.
And what he asked was true.
He could count on one hand how many there were in the guildhall.
"Members?" she filled in for him in that gentle voice that almost had his shoulders weakening from their ridged T-formation.
Lahar nodded, taking another sip of his hot beverage.
"Well, the Master knew you were coming and thought it best to get multiple missions that could only be 'completed by certain members'," she smiled indulgently as her fingers made the air quotations. "They just also happened to be our most rowdy members too, who would most likely not appreciate a council soldier here."
"If he knew I was coming to inspect him, why isn't he seeing me at the moment?" he queried sharply, his cup mimicking him as it clinked harshly against the saucer.
It may have undercut his tone as it looked as Mirajane was trying to hold back an amused smile and was failing.
"I'm sorry, he is dealing with some of the guild matters and is writing all the formal apologies that you have been lacking," her hand hid her smile futilely and instead, she bent forwards to place the mugs under the bar much to Lahar's inner delight before it got thoroughly scolded.
But even he had to admit, her breasts were aesthetically pleasing to any hot blooded male's eye.
"I see," he said lowly, coupling with his eyes staring sullenly into his green tea.
"But I'm sure in the mean time you can sit here for a drink or two," she tried to say consolingly but just got the turning down of his mouth for her efforts.
Puffing out a breath, Lahar looked around and spotted Doranbolt talking to a grown up Wendy.
He spared a small smile for his friend, the four years leading to the blue haired girl's eighteenth birthday were certainly interesting in the way he dealt with the blunette.
But it was either pitiful or amusing, in that Doranbolt had talked to her perhaps once or twice a year in the years leading up to her eighteen, however, after every interaction the scarred man eradicated any sign that he had talked to her and would begin the whole process all over again.
Lahar shook his head, this was going to be the first year that he was going to force Doranbolt not to do the almost masochist ritual, if it was the last thing he did.
And the young woman hadn't shaped to badly in the end, Lahar thought appraisingly, noting the red cheeks, signalling a childhood crush towards the grown man, which had obviously extended towards adulthood in full force.
"They look good together don't they?" a voice whispered next to him and when he glanced over, he almost wished that he didn't.
Because of the way she was leaning, the bar supported her already enhanced bust to epic proportions, so the first thing he saw was the cleavage and the sheer amount of white skin.
His tongue had come to peek out to lick his lip before he bit it punishingly and turned his eyes back to the couple in the centre of the room.
They almost stood out the most because they were almost the only ones talking.
He saw Juvia Lockster sitting in the corner with the bookworm, her hands sewing a doll that looked suspiciously like Gray Fullbuster.
Lahar frowned.
He hoped it wasn't a voodoo doll because he knew that magic was outlawed in Fiore and he would have to investigate that on top of the master of this formidable guild.
"I would suppose so," he responded lowly, not wanting to draw attention to themselves and how close they were to the other. "However, I doubt that Doranbolt would be able to see past the age gap."
Mirajane hummed, agreeing.
Out of the corner of his eye, Lahar saw the way in which the Strauss cupped her chin thoughtfully.
"Well, I don't know about that," she said after a moment, her eyes alighting with a feral delight that almost had him, a hardened soldier recoiling in fear. "I can see even from here he is taking a good look at her chest."
Turning to examine the pair, he found to his shock that Miss Strauss wasn't joking as his best friend was openly staring at the blunette's chest whenever her shy eyes looked away from him.
Which was too frequent for decency's sake!
About to storm over, he was stopped by a gentle hand on his forearm.
He glanced down at the clean and neatly cut fingernails that were circled around one of his forearms then his glare was about to meet that of the Demon's but something stopped him.
Or more, a pair of bright blue eyes did.
His chide was hanging and biting on his tongue but it never came out.
Instead, he shut his eyes and turned back to the signs of love in front of him in the forms of an innocent Wendy and an experienced Doranbolt.
"We could give them a helping hand," Mirajane suggested slyly into his ear and he shivered, hoping that she didn't notice.
"Don't you think he may be a bit too old for her?" he asked dryly, reaching blindly for his cup of green tea, taking a gulp before he could register the heat.
"A forbidden love!" she whispered delightedly, her hands reaching up to clap together, "she is eighteen now though, she can do whatever she wishes and that includes, the daring and dark Doranbolt."
She finished evilly, her little white teeth coming to poke and bit into the fleshy pink lower lip that was slowly capturing his attention more than anything she was ever saying.
They were silently regarding the other, him figuring out a way to maybe stop this insane mess that was running through his head over one woman and her trying all the possible outcomes of Doranbolt's and Wendy' coupling.
Then it hit him.
The way to be out of her company quicker would be to do what the demoness wanted. And swiftly.
"What did you have in mind?" he sighed, resting his forehead in a hand.
…o0o…
"You thinking what I'm thinking?" there was a crooked smile.
The response was a girlish giggle coupled with some red cheeks.
"Give her a taste of her own medicine?"
"Why yes Wendy Marvel, I think that is just what the doctor ordered."
A hand was taken, which was seen by a pair of meddling eyes and documented for their next move.
"You remember the plan?"
A small nod with a breathless gasp as a hand cradled her cheek.
"Then, are you ready?" his breath of mint just ghosting over her sensitive skin.
Another nod with another gasp was swiftly swallowed by a masculine pair of chapped lips.
…o0o…
Mirajane and Lahar looked on in interest, but the bar maid couldn't help but feel the wave of envy at the ease in which Wendy and Doranbolt fell into the kiss.
She looked wistfully to her left where the council soldier who was previously sat straight, now leaned forward intensely, his eyes refusing to leave the scene that was occurring in front of them.
How ironic, that the one man who seemed to have no sexual appetite and had no interest in her whatsoever, was the one that Mirajane had to take an interest in.
It was almost like a breath of fresh air when he wouldn't respond immediately, keeping her on her toes.
His dark, dark hair just almost had her drooling and with the tight mouth that just oozed disapproval, and deep down had Mirajane thinking in all the naughty ways in which she could get that look again.
A blush dusted her cheeks and bringing up a cool hand, the white haired woman prayed that the detached man wouldn't notice it.
"So how are we going to move them to the broom cupboard?" he asked, trying to seem like he wasn't talking to her by using the side of his mouth.
"Leave it to me," she whispered before she knocked his tea into his chest.
The hot liquid, despite the thick cloth, oozed and seeped through quickly to burn his chest. Lahar cried out, standing up quickly, trying to hold the hot and heavy fabric away from his skin to no avail.
"Oh no!" she cried falsely, trying to grip the pair in the centre of the room's attention much to the futility.
"What are you doing?" Lahar hissed, his lavender eyes flashing dangerously, his black fringe covering the frown lines that Mirajane knew were coming up.
The pair in the middle of the room, despite Doranbolt's easy breathing, any passer-by could see the way Wendy's breasts jiggled with the ragged breaths and swollen lips, finally parted.
"I'm sorry, I've used all my main ones in front of her too many times!" she whispered back before continuing the charade.
"Oh could someone come mop this up while I sort him out," she called out, her hands still running over his chest with a rag, maybe lingering more than was entirely appropriate.
So absorbed with his body, she didn't notice the pair in the middle share a grin.
"Yeah, sure, we'll do it," Doranbolt replied, dragging Wendy by the hand to where the broom closet was located, which was conveniently found in a hallway out of the eyes of the people by the bar.
Waiting only a second to hear the click of the broom closet being shut, she reluctantly left Lahar's side to peek into the hallway.
She grinned.
Everything was going according to plan.
Tip toeing up, just in case she was interrupting the love birds, she opened the door just a crack to make sure they were in.
However, she was so focussed on being quiet and trying to listen for sounds coming from inside the closet that she wasn't prepared for the hands on her shoulders, shoving her into the room followed by another person.
They fell with a clatter onto the various cleaning appliances.
Her head bumped harshly into a shelf, pain flooding from the base of her skull immediately to the front in a headache. However, where she thought she was finally safe, her face was clattered by the numerous cleaning products that she had knocked over.
Mirajane moaned, her hands reaching to feel what was lying between her breasts but stopped when she felt breath sliding over her skin.
And from the smell of patchouli and green tea, her heart quickened in excitement for what was lying between her breasts.
Or more importantly, who was lying between her breasts.
Gasping, Mirajane entertained the idea of pretending to be unconscious to see how react but then quickly dismissed it.
Her ego could only take so much.
"Lahar! What are you doing?!" she cried, trying to get him up before his embarrassment would become too great to ever talk to her again.
"Huh? What?" he spoke in between her cleavage and when he finally managed to pull his head out, he looked around blearily, unaware that his large hands were holding onto her breasts numbly, his bright eyes only meeting hers after inspecting everything else.
One count.
Two.
He yelped scrabbling away.
Mirajane sighed, the flush that had been working its way onto her face now coming on in full blast.
Her only saviour was the fact that it was dark enough that he wouldn't be able to notice it.
She watched, resigned, to see how he would try and escape when not even she would be able to break out her masterful trap that she foolishly created long ago.
"You know we can't get out-" she tried to save him the trouble but Lahar just glared over his shoulder at her, enough to make her cow down, glum.
"I bet this was your plan from the beginning!" he snarled and from the illumination from under the door, she could see the way his finger was pointed at her. "Looking all sexy, just buttering me up for the master so I would let you off easy-"
"Sexy?" she sat straight up, her ears perked.
Well this changed things, not that Lahar stopped his rant.
"-But what you didn't know was how incorruptible I am, so the jokes on you! So all the spilling tea on me and all the smiles, weren't a quick way on getting me naked and don't just think that if you strip I'll fall to my knees before you, unlike most of the men of this nation-"
Mirajane wasn't even listening anymore, knowing from the experience of this trap on what happens when one of the party panics. Her eyes were half lidded as she crawled over, knowing now that she had more sway with her sex appeal than he let her believe.
She tucked a wayward white strand from her face while Lahar scrabbled himself further backwards, pressing himself right against the door with a thump, his eyes panicked as they darted everywhere, looking for some kind of escape, knowing that there wouldn't be any.
"-So stop using those pretty blue eyes on me. Now. Right now. I mean-I don't-you-" his ramblings had slowed as her pouty mouth came closer, but Mirajane could barely revel in her victory before her tongue was dampening her lower lip with a languorous tongue.
She knew that the light beneath the door had illuminated her lower face and that Lahar would be able to see her intent, from the way it was falling open naturally like whenever someone kissed.
And passionately.
His hands came up to her shoulders, weakly pushing her backwards, but the eldest Strauss saw the way his head inclined towards hers as well, contradicting anything his hands were doing.
"Lahar, I think we need to tend to your burn," she murmured, one dainty hand supporting herself on his shoulder, tracing her way down to his wrist before moving back down to cup a breast.
There was a sharp intake of breath as she let her hand wander to the clip of his cloak.
Click.
It was ominous, but the flump of the fabric against the floor didn't stop there as their faces came so close that their noses bumped together.
Mirajane noticed that all his protests had dwindled and the hand that was once frozen on her breast began to move.
Not away. God, not away.
She hummed happily as she felt the bare hand moving under her dress's low cut neckline to caress her hardened nub with an absent minded thumb.
Her blood was thrumming under her skin, feeling like it was drawn to Lahar as the sea was to the moon.
Her lips were in a similar state of being as her quickened breaths brushed his face before her mouth sealed over the top of his.
Lahar froze for a moment before he crushed their skin back.
Elation flooded through her before it was slowly replaced with a power of desire that rivalled that of the Eclipse project, his needy gasp for air just fuelling the hand that was worming its way under his shirt before shoving it up roughly.
Separating just so he could get his head out of the neck of his shirt, Mirajane closed first her mouth over his lower lip before licking her way into his waiting mouth.
The hint of spice had her purring her appreciation as she pushed against the one hand on her shoulder still, reminding him how good they were feeling.
"Mi-miss Strauss," he groaned out but gave up as the harden nipple in his palm reminded him that he was loving this.
However, no matter how good her tongue was playing him, his morals were coming out.
And the simple fact that they were enemies and he was still in uniform, meant that this couldn't happen.
Ripping his face away the white haired woman took advantage by licking her way down his neck, panting heavily, signalling her arousal and the traitorous male pride swelled at the thought that he was at fault just from his kiss and a clever hand.
But of course he snapped himself out of it and with his hips jerking, he fought to regain his iron will where he was staring at the dark ceiling, finding it within his reluctant self to stop this.
"Miss Strauss, I must frankly ask that you-ohhhh," he cut himself off, shuddering as a tongue licked around his nipple before enclosing it with a hot mouth.
The constant stimulation had him gripping her hair, letting the softness curling in the gaps between his fingers, her tongue massaging the hypersensitive skin.
"You're so cute if you think that we are stopping only here," her sweet voice lilted up to him.
Lahar was inclined to agree.
She blew on the wet skin coolly; he sucked in a breath, his hips unintentionally jerking his hips up, unaware from when her knee came to be next to his now painful erection, just nudging it gently.
He gritted his teeth as he came into contact with that sneak appendage, which only reclaimed its place along the apex of his thighs, rubbing against him knowingly as her tongue just ran around his stomach that was made all the more sensitive from the hot tea being spilt on it earlier.
"I insist-" his words nothing more than a garble as the loud sound of his belt buckle being undone by quick, nimble fingers alerted him to the reaching under the waist band of the standard black briefs.
"No, I insist," her breath only skated across his ear for a moment before it was above his heated flesh of his manhood.
"Please," he was reduced to begging, how pitiful.
But he didn't know how else to get through to this woman, this maniac, this-this-
Demon.
Mirajne paid no heed, her mouth sucking in only the head and his finger nails scratched across the floor, letting wood chippings to be dug up viciously.
The scorching heat released him, barely giving him time to recover as she licked and sucked her way up one side before continuing down to the other, down to the nest of hair before coming back up.
Now his eyes had adjusted to the dark, he could see the way her ethereal blue eyes glowed through the dark before they were hidden again as she closed them, bending back down, this time sucking him all the way down her throat.
Gasping, his head thumped back desperately against the door.
The tight heat was almost unbearable, like any virgin would be. It was taking all of his will power not to use his hands in her hair to take more of him in, especially when she swallowed.
This couldn't happen, this really couldn't happen, this really, really couldn't-
Mirajane did a tiny trick with her tongue and he felt his stomach tighten in the need to release and decided there was nothing to be gained by leaving there frustrated beyond belief.
Abandoning everything, his hands grabbed her bountiful hips, grinding her against him, curling his knees up so she couldn't scoot back.
Crying out in surprise, she got over her shock quickly, her head burying in his neck.
Lahar would have been lying if he said that he didn't feel his very veins sing with this siren that was just sitting on top of his lap.
His fingers that had once been so reluctant, now turned animalistic as he yanked the strings that held the corset part of the dress together, letting the loose slabs fall, exposing the bare breasts, towards the flat expanse of her stomach.
He let himself mouth a suck on her throat like the mythical beasts of old, knowing that he was betraying everything he worked so hard for but with the feel of her soft, warm hand on him and he was ready to betray his very name just for one more moment with this Pandora.
Hiking her skirt up, he let a finger rub against the slit under what felt like…cotton?
His eyebrow raised, but he never let his mouth release from her skin to ask, rather choosing to torture her as she did to him.
His tongue licked while his teeth nibbled, his lungs breathed while his arms held her tighter to his chest, their bare skin creating a glorious friction that was just added to the furious, flaming, stimulation.
Messily, Lahar sucked a hard pebble into his mouth, letting it touch his very cheeks as he took as much of the large flesh as he could.
But he knew he was doing something right from the way her hips grinded down, simultaneously pushing, needy, against the finger that was hanging around her drenched entrance and let her other breast's nipple graze his cheek, sending a hot flush all over.
Gasping, he pulled away before he was swallowed by her impressive cleavage.
Mirajane didn't give him much time to recover as her mouth demanded his tongue in her mouth again.
Or maybe that was his own brain telling him he should.
Either way, their frenzied breathing increased in tempo when the finger that was feeling through her knickers, slipped across the edge and glanced off the exposed clit.
Darting away only to gasp with delight, the eldest Strauss came back, her hands on either side of Lahar's jaw, directing him up to press their swollen lips together, despite the soreness.
Pulling away only long enough to wriggle her way out of her knickers, she plopped herself back down into his lap, his erection bouncing off her thigh.
Using both hands to hitch the skirt high on her waist, she relied on Lahar to guide himself in.
But after only feeling the head only just touching her wet mouth, she just waited until the rest of him came but when it didn't she glanced down at him curiously.
He seemed torn but she wasn't just going to let him ignore what their attraction to the other inspired.
Swivelling her hips, she could imagine from the lewd sounds of their sexes rubbing together, Lahar's erection getting covered in her desire, glistening and stimulating his body as much as he was alighting hers into a bonfire.
Lahar growled, holding her hips still firmly while one hand delved into the heat of their sexes mixing, guiding himself firmly into her, filling her, letting her tighten, delighted.
Mirajane moaned, one hand now just holding her heavy skirt while the other tried to hold the hair away from her sweaty nape, her breasts just jiggling as he pounded into her.
Little whimpers escaped her mouth and the council soldier resented the sight of her teeth biting into her lower lip, trying to tamp down on the cute and male inspiring sounds escaping that pretty little mouth.
He licked one canine and when she gasped in surprise, he delved in, tasting her like it would be his final act.
And probably from the way this was progressing, Lahar had no intention in keeping his job after this, knowing he could never trust himself again.
However, at that point in time, he decided he shouldn't focus on things so trivial as he felt the best sex of all time testing his resolve on lasting longer than his teenage self.
Mirajane cried out, one hand abandoning its role on holding her dress up, favouring to link into the hair that was falling from his clip and yanking him to her breasts which he easily acquiesced.
"Please," she begged, her skin hot as it pressed against him, the heat more than the midday sun which seemed trapped under his skin.
"Who knew Fairy Tail could be so polite?" he mused before his tongue lightly brushed against a nipple, his hot breath decorating her sweat slicked skin.
There was an unhappy sharp tug at the roots of his hair and he cried out, scowling before he caught sight of her unhappy mouth and it softened.
"Fine, no talking about work," then he thrust upwards hard and Mirajane forgot every affront that he spoke before as her head tilted back, exposing her long column, ripe for the taking.
Her voice sang his praises as they got faster and faster, her taste, her smell, her everything just irresistible to him, threatening to take him under her spell.
He felt his vision going hazy under her tight passage and he was panting for breath, desperate to finish this, desperate to keep going.
His fingers were probably bruising her but Lahar couldn't find it in him to care especially when the eldest Strauss sighed, letting her shoulders slump biting into his shoulder as she came, her hips swivelling, trying to milk him for all he was worth as he followed with a growl.
They panted and breathed heartily, both their noses buried in the other's neck, trying not to show the weakness, but both knew, deep down, that the other could see.
Lahar cleared this throat, a hand slid under the sweaty waist band of her skirt to caress the small of her back, tracing up the bumps of her spine.
Knowing this would probably be the last time he would see such a delectable treat, he let his nose smell her behind an ear, feeling the waves of her unseen white hair bracketing his face lovingly.
And that was how he knew she was smiling.
It seemed that this woman functioned on the very essence of love and that was how she still managed to smile at him, despite being her enemy.
That was how she was able to suck him down and milk him dry, because she wanted to and didn't even acknowledge the problem that he thought of.
Such thinking could be naivety but for a cynical thinker such as himself, he could imagine for only a second, having Miss Mirajane Strauss in his home, a few children running around before reality kicked in.
The splinters from the wooden floor on his chest, the slick sweat that once felt so good now felt cold and disgusting.
The euphoria of his orgasm slowly made way for the shame in which he acted, (in uniform no less) but the feeling of her breasts rubbing tantalisingly against his own reminded him of why he was resisting her in the first place.
She was a woman loved and adored by many, she knew how to wrap them all around her finger should she choose.
And that was exactly just what she did to him.
…o0o…
Mirajane sighed, her hands absent minded, serving drinks as per usual but she couldn't help but glance at the clock.
She was never one to complain about work but after the episode three months ago, most of the time, she just wanted to go home and eat a tub of ice cream, maybe drown her sorrows with her favourite strawberry bourbon.
And if she got particularly desperate, spray the perfume bottle filled with patchouli onto a t-shirt and pretend it was his.
Sighing once again, she continued to smile for the people at the bar.
It was easy lying to all of them. One because it was so unbelievable that a man like that would have such a sex drive and two, that Mirajane would be so foolhardy to have sex with an almost random stranger.
In fact, she frowned, she was sure no one thought her capable of having sex.
They pretended they could have sex with her, but not really imagined her having a relationship.
And in a way, that was true; she was the mother figure and after Lisanna 'died' she promised that she would look after everyone else. Previously, she had no time to have such relationships.
So when for the first time she had the urge and she wanted it filled, it blew predictably up in her face.
Yanked out of her musings by the chiming of two o'clock in the morning, Mirajane began the exhausting task of moving all the drunkards out of the guildhall and locking up.
It was dark and chilly on the way home, the air of autumn was leaving, giving the feeling of the winter soon approaching.
Luckily, she didn't live too far away, yet it was hidden enough that other than her siblings, Laxus and Erza, no one knew where she lived, giving her the feeling of utmost privacy.
Darting up the narrow stairs of her house, her hand was already rummaging in her bag for her keys, she didn't bother looking at the top because she knew her place was almost unnoticeable to everyone but her select few.
But colour her surprised when a pair of hands stopped her from running into them while she was looking down.
Not even glancing up at the face, she used her innate combat skills and had the person beneath her with his arm high on his back before he could do more.
However, it was only then that the scent of patchouli hit her, the midnight coloured hair that was held with black chopsticks rather than the customary Rune Knights clip she recognised who it was.
"Lahar?" Mirajane asked, shocked, releasing his arm.
Turning around, any doubts she had were gone as soon as the lavender eyes caught her in his spell.
She swallowed, her eyes darting down as all the hurt from their parting three months ago, swallowed her heart.
"I'm sorry to be coming at such a time," he replied, his serious eyes just taking her in like last time. "But I have a subject of importance to discuss with you."
Nodding, Mirajane smiled, faking it for him like she had with everyone else in the guild.
"I can get you a cup of green tea too if you would like," she offered, unlocking her front door, leaving her shoes at the door and hung up her coat on one of the available hooks.
Glancing back at him, she couldn't stop her eyebrows raising in surprise at his attire.
He was in a simple black shirt and trousers with a brown leather jacket covering him.
Where in Fiore was his uniform?
Then her mind started going a mile a minute. Did he get mugged?
No, he had a satchel hanging over his shoulder; they would have taken that.
She bit his lip. Maybe he had gotten fired? She giggled quietly to herself for the first time in three months.
No, that idea was frankly ludicrous. Lahar? The best Rune Knight there was, fired?
She shook her head. There had to be a reasonable explanation.
"I've only got non caffeinated, if that is okay?" she didn't bother turning to face him, just relying on her tip toes to reach that annoying top shelf, even using pitiful little jumps to try and achieve it.
What she didn't expect was a hot body behind her, leaning into the cradle of her bottom, a chest connected all along her back before the black shirt reached up to the box and pulled it down with ease.
Swallowing down the tightness in her throat, she spared a weak smile before grabbing some cups, her heart racing all the while.
She just had to hope he wasn't looking at her neck for her pulse because it was thrumming against her skin, alerting to all involved that she cared a lot more than she was giving off.
"Mirajane," he started behind her again.
Her heart skipped. He said her first name. Not 'Miss Mirajane' or anything like that, no.
Just a simple Mirajane.
Her breathing hitched and again she prayed that he wasn't listening to the tiny hints that she wasn't as okay as she let on.
"Um, how have you been?" the white haired woman stuttered out, her hands shaking as she filled the kettle and put it on the stove to heat.
There was no answer, but she refused to turn around just in case it was one of his tactics to gauge her reaction.
A shifting of cloth sounded behind her and then a pair of arms bracketed her against the counter.
"Truthfully, I have been better," Lahar murmured in her ear, sending delightful chills down her spine.
She hummed, knowing if she actually said any words her voice would break in the middle and she would be damned if she would show any weakness.
"I had a woman in my arms, very pretty, you might know her by the name of Miss Strauss," he continued, his hands creeping slowly closer to her and she couldn't find it within herself to stop it. "And after we had become," he coughed, "intimate, I made an error in which I found may have messed up my chances with her. However," his mouth pressed against the shell of her ear and this time, the hidden shivers now racked up her body obviously, ruining any chance she had at trying to play it cool.
"I found that no matter how much I threw myself into my work, I couldn't forget her," Mirajane tried to hide her smile by letting her hair cover her red face but she knew someone as intelligent as Lahar, it would take more. "Then, when it came to having to arrest some of Fairy Tail, I couldn't do it, so handed in my resignation, but now-"
His voice lowered further as his hands which hadn't previously touched her, now cupped her hips, drawing her inevitably closer and she was powerless to stop him.
Hating to even stop him on his train of thought as her breath quickened hopefully.
"-I have nowhere to go except to this woman, this woman that may be too hurt to even consider having me back."
Pivoting around, her shrewd eyes took in the honest, stern face, evaluating everything despite her heart already knowing what she was going to choose.
"I-" her lips shaped his name and found that they couldn't move anymore because of the responsive lips that were overtaking her.
Swallowing her.
Moaning, her arms wrapped around his neck, revelling in the feel of warm, sure hands on her back through the thin fabric.
His hips pushed her sharply against the edge of the counter, one hand reached up and cupped her face, a worn thumb just tracing all that he never had back in their time in the broom closet.
"Take me back," he whispered as his soft mouth stroked her neck lovingly, the hand that was on her cheek, smoothing up the column of her throat, angling her head back so he had more access to touch the long expanse.
"I-yes," Mirajane moaned out, her eyes beginning to blur as happy tears curled out of the corners but also from the way in which his skilful hands were inspiring her arousal which more often than not blurred her vision.
"Yes?" his lavender eyes were smoky as he just gazed upon her form.
Ducking her head under his chin, she wrapped her arms securely around his waist, letting him know silently she wasn't letting go again.
"Yes," she breathed, her nose just smelling the patchouli, letting him guide her into her living room where they soon forgot about the kettle squealing on the stove.
finis