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Playing dangerous - Mother Miranda/reader

Warning for explicit content.

Chapter 8: Puppet

Summary:

Wrong person - right affection.

You no longer dream. 

The lucid images and scenes that appear in your mind every night cannot be described as such things. Dreams are meant to be a fantasy, fiction, something so unreal - it's only possible to happen inside someone's imagination. 

Dreams do have meanings , however they are not a life changing matter. They shouldn't be. 

You've gone through a lot of different scenarios, masked as at first sight insignificant looking events, during your stay in the mansion. You quickly got used to nightmares, to weird points of views that changed along with the inexplicable cases in your head , featuring memories and people you have long forgotten about.

 You even adapted to your imaginary Miranda panting under you right before her strong, clawled hands decide they are too bored to just hold onto you, a little cut here and there merging with the smell of your crimson blood excited them. Whenever she appears in your dreams - she always kills you , switching the enjoyable experience to a nightmare. 

The realness of those 'dreams' is way too great to be called fiction. All those faces , places , animals , gestures , bodies , sounds ,everything feels like a completely different universe. One that it's only yours to command, as it happens within your head. 

Manipulation it for your benefits might break this strange world. That's why you gave up the first time you tried to control it. 

Slowly you got used to everything - from pain to pleasure, from blood to tears , from fear to tranquility. There's one thing that started to appear more often recently, and it confuses you, but you can't say you're triggered by its presence. It's bizarre, yet amiable. 

The deer. 

Everytime it shows up, even during your current dream, it's always the same scenario - you stare at it , and the animal does not move , its eyes remaining fixed on you. Those dark, blue eyes with the little hint of golden yellow and furious red shining in them. 

They say universes can change when eyes meet up, worlds can break. Mind , sanity and soul can disappear, leaving only a fragile body on the empty road. 

You know the deer is harmless, but you fear it. Yet still you take a step closer , feeling its attraction fall upon you. You admire it , you desire it. 

You chase after it , in search for desperate comfort. Especially now that you're left with a heart, broken and wounded , crying with bloody tears of jealousy. 

You curl up in front of the animal that kindly welcomes you. It doesn't take you long to completely lay down on the pavement , feeling its shadow hoovering over you. 

Deers are a symbol of gentleness, safety, wisdom , innocence and protection. You can't help but seek all of that at such vulnerable moment for you. And your desires are fulfilled, for a while. 

But then comes the loud screeching of tires and the car that kills all of your peace.

***** 

Philip is a long lost cause. Your breakup was expected. Maybe the only surprising part about what happened is that you dumped him , and not the opposite way around. 

He has always been more controlling, mean and unbothered. From time to time you felt like a puppet in his hands. But fooled by old , happy memories from when you were young and in love, you never actually dared to leave him. Until now. 

For you, him cheating again was the last straw. 

However you don't feel sadness. In fact, this new kind of feeling fills your soul with heavenly comfort. Freedom, of him , of this awful relationship. 

You can't say you're happy neither. Relieved for sure but not entirely pleased. You're neutral, for now. Yet, as days go on and on more thoughts about him begin to wander in your head and you start to wonder if you have made a mistake. 

You truly need a distraction.

.

.

.

You don't know which god exactly heard your silent prayers for something different from the boring mansion, but you're happy your needs have been answered. 

You can't even hide your smile as Miranda walks down the stairs, fully dressed in her formal clothing. A fine , tight , black dress , aesthetically decorated with feathers around the shoulders, golden jewelry illuminating her tender skin around the neck , wrists, fingers and ears. 

Her heels drag along the floor , making light tapping noises with every step , with such shoes she stans even taller than she already is. She runs her fingers through her hair , which is carefully swiped back , leaving only a few golden strings to wander in front of her face , as she takes her place right next to you. 

Miranda going out for work always means a bit calmer house to work with as the kids tend to listen to you more when their mother isn't around and they don't have someone to complain to. 

But tonight is different. Even her daughters won't be home. Which means you'll have the whole mansion for yourself. Finally a break , alone with yourself yet again. 

"Where exactly am i supposed to take them to again?" - you ask , a smile still very visible on your face, while you extend a hand for Miranda to hold onto as she bends down to fix her heel. The action happens fast and surprisingly casual. 

"To their aunt's house" - she explains , huffing annoyingly when a big portion of her hair falls around her shoulder, limiting a part of her vision in the process. Looking closely you notice how long and beautiful her hair looks, you even start to wonder if it will be as soft to the touch as you Imagen it to be. 

In the distance, the two girls giggle together, too exited they are going to the said place. You find yourself eager to go as well. 

"You have a sister?" - Miranda has never mentioned any family members before. It's always she and her daughters.

"No. We're not related" - she's finally done with her heels , the grip on your hand disappears as she straightenes her back , fixing her hair in the process - "i just call her that , she's more of a... friend" 

"Like a best friend, perhaps?" - it's kind of weird imagining Miranda being social, but hey everybody can find their platonic soulmate out there. She laughs in return. 

"She's a mother herself , that's why i trust her enough to send my daughters to her" - she fixes the bracelets around her wrists - "however our kids can be portrayed as good friends, indeed" 

"I'm assuming you often allow them to have sleepovers ,then?" - it's nice knowing those poor kinds still manage to get out of the mansion at least for a while. 

"When I'm busy, yes" - Miranda isn't very talkative before going out for her work duties, as if the whole world is forcing her to do so , so you don't get as offended as you once did over her slightly colder tone. 

"Is her house far or...?" - the realisation that you have no idea where exactly you're supposed to take the kids to hits your hard just as the girls enter the room , already dressed to go , with theirs needed stuff carefully put in their little backpacks.

Miranda also acknowledges that you're not a mage and you can't read minds, plus she never actually told you where you need to drive the kids to. She silence her inner voices who try to snap at you for asking her this ridiculous question. Instead she turns to you with a forced smile. 

"I'll make sure to send you a location" - she tugs on her sleeve , unsurely looking around, as if she's trying to think of something to say, finally she returns her attention back to you- "remember to lock the doors when you return."

"I know what to do , I'm not-"

"Bye bye, mommy!" - Eva interrupts you, impatient to finally leave. Miranda has to physically pull the back of her collar just to bring the girl back to her. She only manages to blink before finding herself in her mother's embrace. 

"Send greetings from me to Alcina, will you?" - Eva quickly nods , moving fast to escape Miranda's grip. She laughs, then turns to her other daughter, gently caressing her soft, black hair. 

"Take care of your sister, Evie" - the older girl assures her she will, winning a truthful smile from her mother. Then they both run outside, eagerly waiting in front of your car , leaving you alone with Miranda. 

"I'll be back late , don't wait for me" - you don't have time to wish her a good evening or say anything at all in return as the blonde woman leaves the mansion with rapid steps , waves goodbye to her children and gets in her own car, before driving far away. 

***** 

The car trip isn't long , though you can't exactly say you didn't get tired of driving. The old roads always exhausted you. But the location Miranda sent you is even worse because judging by the online map - the place you needed to be is high in the mountains. So naturally the path to it is more than shitty. 

The girls adore music, that's a thing you discovered while driving with them on the backseat. And strange enough they very much liked almost each one of your favourite songs. 

A little bonding session with them is something you'd never want to miss , especially with Eva. So you enjoyed the time you spent together in poorly singing lyrics along with the tempo of the music. 

Now that you've had entered a thich forest at the base of the mountains the day changes to mid afternoon, the weather is naturally colder while the sky is a bit darker. You try your best to follow the narrow roads up fast enough before any of the girls with you decide to take a little nap in your car. Your plan is to drop them off and return back to the mansion as fast as possible.

"Are we there yet?" - Eveline asks , maybe for the hundredth time. 

"Almost there, sweetie, be patient."

"I can't wait to see the sisters!" - Eva exclaims , visibly excited - "you know that Dani promised me tons of chocolate last time?" 

"Will her mother allow it?" - the black haired girl raises an eyebrow. 

"She doesn't have to know, silly!" 

You smile while listening to their conversations, deciding it's not the time or place to join into them. Currently your job required you to safely deliver them into this Alcina's person hands. 

"Is this the place?" - you ask them unsurely, after a right turn that reveals an enormous looking estate, that is just ...wow. 

You know Miranda is filthy rich but her so called friend is on a whole other level. In front of you stays not an ordinary house, or a mansion close to Miranda's, no. This woman's home is a whole, medieval looking castle. 

It’s large ,devine , even a little ominous, but the main word you would use to described is is definitely powerful. Its walls stand tall, grey, covered in limestones. Roof black as the night, illuminated by the silver moon and topped with a set of towering chimneys and spires.

There are many vines and thorn bushes growing in and around the foundation of the castle, making it look uninhabitable. The land that surrounds the castle is covered in a dense forest, mostly conifers and dark trees , on the ground around it you can still spot petite stacks of snow, as the castle is standing on a top of a mountain after all. 

"Yes!" - one of the girls answers your long forgotten question - "we're finally here , let's go!" 

The backdoors of the car open before you can realise the girls are already running to the castle and you're forced to quickly follow after them, not forgetting to grad their luggage in the process, though it makes it harder for you to catch up with them. 

The entrance doors are from heavy wrought iron, covered in various rust designs and symbols. Tall ,old and heavy they look like they’ve been there through centuries, the cold from outside seeping into the front hall when they’re opened, as a few visible damage defects are sure to catch the eye. Overall the doors surely add to the castle aesthetic. 

Especially when they open on their own. Creepy. The scratchy sound makes your ears itch and your body immediately tenses. The girls , on the other hand, seem unbothered. They've been here countless of times, of course. 

They run inside, easily making their way in the labyrinth of rooms while you nervously chase after them. For a moment you loose them and you begin to spin , wondering in which direction they exactly went. And then you spot them in the room right in from of you. 

You dash forward, past the doorframe, urging to get to them. Without realising you bump into something hard , not something but someone. Not an ordinary person on top of that. 

"I'm so sorry, i-" - the words die in your throat as you look up , finding it difficult to keep your mouth from opening, from both suprise and excitement. 

And you thought Miranda is tall. The woman in front of you stands one ot two head taller than the her , a ridiculous height. The black dress she's wearing fits her body perfectly while at the same time it matches with her raven hair , carefully styled in large curls , hidden beneath a fashionable hat. A few strings of white shine between her dark hair , adding to her middle aged looking face. She might be old but by all means she's eternally beautiful. 

"Already feeling intimidated, aren't you?" - her voice is deep , strong and demanding. You can't help but clench your jaw. 

"You're just a little" - you clear your throat, your hand resting on top of your chest - "...a little tall, that's it" 

"I've been taller, I've been scarier, I've been more powerful..." - she whispers the last bit while her eyebrows furrow , her expression of anger is rather unsettling , especially when part of her sharp teeth shime beneath her forced smile - "who might you be , girl?" 

"Miranda's new babysitter" - you present yourself, offering your hand for her to shake. You are surprised when she actually does it , as you're used to that gesture of yours to be ignored. 

"The name's Alcina Dimitrescu" - everything about her screams 'power' , starting with her large , strong arms that could completely devour yours and ending with the volume of her voice as she pronounces her name out loud - "I'm The Lady of this castle." 

.

.

.

Three daughters. Bela , Cassandra and Daniela. At first sight they look very similar, like twins. But a closer observation in their features , bodies and mostly different hair colours hints that they are probably sisters , not related by blood. 

That's not a thing that bothers you though. As long as they keep Miranda's daughters entertained and safe in their shared games. You find it amusing how despite the difference in their age, the ground of girls still manage to find a common way of interacting with each other. 

As by doing so , they left you alone with their mother. Alcina is a calm woman , yet something in the way she measures you up and down with her burning gaze makes your body tense. 

"I find it interesting how and why Miranda decided to hire you" - she begins to rant , bringing one of the two cups , filled with warm tea , she played on the table in front of you not so long ago - "she's not the type of woman to willingly search for help" 

"Well i-"

"Especially when it comes to her children" - she lifts a finger to show you she's not finished, silencing you completely - "so why now?" 

"Her job keeps her busy" - you quickly answer, pulling on the fabric of your jeans. 

"She's always busy" - she scoffs - "however I'm certain that wasn't much of a problem for her , until now , of course. Why?" 

"I have no idea" - you tend to talk rapidly when you're nervous, it's a normal thing for you but for the formal lady it's something ill mannered. 

Alcina hums , then lifts a hand to fix her hair. 

"Miranda has grown to be more tolerant with people around her" - she speaks as if the blonde woman is someone she knows by heart, judging by what you know about their relationship - you trust her - "but i haven't. Dare you harm her or her daughters in any way , I'm make sure you deeply regret it" 

Your tea has gone cold because you refuse to drink it, afraid to accept something offered by the woman who so openly threatens you. 

"Are you close with her?" - your curiosity makes her tilt her head to a side with a lifted eyebrow - "if you defend her so intensely?" 

"I owe her a lot" - simple said , but not enough to unravel the truth you seek. 

"How come?" 

"Mother Miranda has done countless of helpful things for me and my daughters , I can't help but...admire her , strongly." 

You nod your head , hearing a somehow decent answer. Then your eyebrows furrow , at the exact moment as the woman's mouth opens wide , shock trembling in both your eyes. 

"Excuse me?" - you succeed to talk first - "did you say 'mother'?"

Miranda said they aren't related and you're sure their ages can't be placed in a timeline where Alcina is another daughter of hers. It's impossible. 

"I do apologise" - the older woman stands up and pats the fabric of her dress - "it's an old habit of mine to call her that" 

In what way is this normal? You know very well Miranda is not a saint, especially after going through her chats with Mia but her relationship with the lady of the castle can't be another one of her playful roleplays now , can't it? 

If anything it's awfully weird and fucked up. 

"I don't seem to get your point here" - you choke out a laugh - "what do you mean by old habit?" 

"Curious, little thing" - Alcina whispers before slowly walking to a close by cabinet, with its doors opened the inside reveals to be filled with large bottles of wine - "it's not my right to tell you" 

"Tell me what?" - you try your best to be respectful but she makes it hard to do so - "Explain!" 

She blinks once after your shouting over her , then again, as her lips form a smile. 

"I really have no idea how she deals with that attitude" - Alcina shoves a heavy bottle of wine in your hands , while gently grabbing your shoulder, which allows her to guide or more like force you out of the room - "however i know it has no place in my home" 

"What?" - cold air hits your face and you realise you're currently standing at the main entrance of the castle. 

"Leave , now" - she's finally done pushing you out of the door , and you turn to her , awfully confused, yet still holding the bottle in your hands like a baby - "make sure to deliver the wine to Miranda in perfect condition, she loves that sort" 

With that the doors shuts closed right in front of your face. The fast clicking sounds behind it confirm that it now locked , which means you have no way in going into the castle again. 

With nothing left to do anymore, you turn around and start walking to your car. 

You've felt rage before, but not as strongly as you're currently experiencing it. It builds within your body with every step. And it stays as you start driving or even after you find yourself in Miranda's mansion again , alone. 

***** 

Two whole cups from the wine Alcina gave you are enough to make you lay down on the comfortable sofa in the living room. Your back presses to the soft pillows behind you and you allow yourself to relax. 

To sleep. You desire to sleep forever. 

You groan as you push yourself up again, heading to pour another glass of the delicious red wine. Like hell you're giving it to Miranda. 

You're so sick of the unhinged bullshit going on around you. No wonder Alcina is Miranda's friends. Both of these women are not sane in the head. And it seems like they are trying to drag you down into their madness as well. You will not allow such thing. 

Maybe a third cup is a bit much for you. Dizziness begins to travel through your veins, making its way up to your already foggy mind. Left alone with your thoughts you have no choice but to loose yourself into them. 

And just like that your now ex boyfriend hops into your head. He's not there not be missed, though. 

You were never very keen on kissing with Philip. He was always too rough when you needed him to be gentle and always too soft when you needed him badly. He was never enough. 

In your imagination he is a good kisser. And he knows exactly how you like to be touched, where you like his hands to be and in what kind of way he should talk. In your head he's perfect. 

You think of him guiding your hands down your body with his own , past your stomach, beneath your jeans and later on underwear. 

Real or made up , Philip was never able to make your heart beat as fast as it's currently going. That's because you're not imagining Philip at all. 

You don't feel embarrassed when Miranda's face appears in front of you. It's not the first time she's to show up in your head anyway. She's a local guest in your dreams after all. 

Emotionless and casual, there's no shame in you imagining her. If she can get you off , she's more than welcome. You decide to start the scenario like usual. 

As your hand starts to pull the strings of pleasure from between your legs ,you close your eyes and get comfortable on the sofa. 

Your imaginary Miranda is suddenly flipped on her bare back under you. She has that playful smile glued on her face like always. You claim her lips like they belong to you. 

It's fun to position her like that because in reality you know she's a very dominant woman so you'll never actually get the chance to be on top of her like that. 

Your hips rolls against hers and she lets out the same low pitched volume moan as you heard her do in that dark video from her shared chat with the mysterious woman. You're enchanted by that sound. You want to hear more. So you grind even harder against her , too mad to admit you'd love to hear her scream. 

The wine is showing it's effect as your real hands begin to move faster, busy rubbing circles on your clit , while your imaginary ones wrap around the base of Miranda's neck , following her own suggestion - for you to choke her with your bare hands. To death.

Even though you can't stand her awful staring her eyes stay fixed on you. That kind of behaviour has no place in your scenario. 

The familiar rage from earlier overfills your veins, mainly triggered by the alcohol, and you squeeze her neck impossible tight , making her gag. 

"You vile woman" - you groan, leaning closer and dragging your tongue on her sensitive skin , starting from between her breasts and ending somewhere in the middle of her exposed throat.

Her head tilts backwards at the same time as yours, as you both hiss from the build up pleasure. 

"Forsaken, little deer" - you clench your jaw in annoyance. This is definitely not the type of response you'd like to get from her. Doesn't matter, as long as you can change what she says and do. 

"You - I'm going to ruin you" - the red marks from the angry fingers you drag along her stomach confirm your words - "i hate you" 

"You've grown horns, sharp teeth and claws" - her voice is close to a whisper, you try to silence her with forced kisses, but she manages to speak again - "poor girl, you can't handle yourself like that" - a pause - "let alone handle me." 

Having death under you is fun, playing with it even funnier. But you cannot kill death , her cunning nature is too great. You squeeze Miranda's neck tightly, threatening to do serious damage. She laughs, her body begins to break , turning into dark liquid, staining your skin in the process. She's out of your reach in the blink of an eye. She disappeared from your own imagination, leaving you more than confused. 

One dark chuckle is enough to send shivers down your spine. 

"Fascinating" - the stirring sound of heels dragging on the floor echoes close to your ears - "the things we do when we think nobody is watching us" 

You didn't acknowledge embarrassed before but now not only that , but full of shame mask find its please on your visage. 

"I'm ugh-" - your words tangle together with the excuses you try to form in your head , in the end making an unclear sentence. 

"What if one of my daughters were to find you like this" - Miranda tries to contain her bullying smile as she watches you struggle to pull out your hand from beneath your jeans - "you're not giving them a good example at all." 

"Your children are not at home" - you hiss at her. 

"But i am." 

She's capable of silence you with only a few words and she's damn good at it. You follow her with your eyes while she moves past and ignores the sofa , instead taking a sit on the wooden table in front of you. 

She picks up the cup and the bottle of wine. She knows the sort, she knows it's from Alcina, for her. She's unbothered that there's only one cup on the table, and she doesn't care that it's yours. The only problem she finds is an empty glass. The wine pours lile a thick, crimson blood from the bottle into the cup. 

"Show me" - she says , dipping her full lips into the red wine , tasting it. 

"What?" - you hate how the fabric of her dress is slightly pulled up as she sits down, exposing parts of her bare thighs , not a good sight for your already full of lewd thoughts head. 

"Show me" - she repeats herself, allowing yet another cunning smile to occupy her lips - "spreads those pretty legs for me and show me. Give me a reason not to throw you out of here immediately."

Oh, she wants to watch. Or to humiliate you. Maybe both. Your cheeks burn in red flames as you try your best to ignore her gaze. 

"You can't be serious" 

"Don't make me repeat myself" - a fare warning. 

"You can't just-"- you scoff - "this is not-"

"Quit your barking already" - her voice changes as she decides to use a slightly harsher tone on you - "and show me what i wish to see." 

"I won't." 

"Now" - she commands , awaking goosebumps from beneath your skin. She lifts a hand to point at your jeans , her intension is clear yet you decide to play it stupid, in one last attempt to force her to change her mind - "and i said i want to see , take these off."

As if pulled by invisible strings, like a puppet, your hands obey her. Your body moves on its own, stripping  your lower part naked until you find yourself on the sofa again, with your jeans and underwear on a pile of clothes next to your now spread legs. 

One of your hands slips down between your thighs , fingers ready to bring you pleasure again. But this time it's different. Real Miranda is much more scarier than your imaginary one. And more thrilling. 

"Tell me , darling" - she starts quietly, eyes locked on your working hand , as she crosses her own legs , taking her usual body pose - "what do you think about while you touch yourself?" - she lifts a finger , nail strictly pointed to your crouch - "faster." 

The circle you've been rubbing around your clit immediately pick up a more swift tempo and you find it difficult not to hiss in response. Though you wish to save your pride for as long as you can. 

"I think of..." - Of her? Like hell you're telling her that - "...women.." 

"Women, really?" - she exclaims while straightening her back , a giant, mocking grin on her lips. She leans forward, placing her chin into a soft palm in the process - "how... unexpected" - she makes a circle motion with her wrist, making the bracelets on it let out a ringing sound - "think you can put your fingers to a better use , darling?" 

You nod your head nervously the same time as one of your fingers burry itself deep inside of you. You groan at the feeling, wishing the sound wasn't too loud , and that it didn't end up close to Miranda's ears. 

"What type of women?" - she questions, tapping the floor a few times with her heel - "describe one for me"

Your hips buckle up instead of you giving her a response. And you bite your lips , looking up from beneath your eyelashes you spot Miranda's bottom lip also locked between her teeth. Perhaps she's enjoying the show you're putting for her a little bit too much. 

"Let's start with her hair." - she gently speaks - "what colour is her hair?"

"Golden" - your swift response surprises both of you, in a good way. 

"And her eyes?" - she continues to question. 

"Blue..." - you hiss out - "so blue..." 

"Can you add another?" - she doesn't have to clarify what she demands of you. A second finger is already on it's way to your opening. Giving the fact that you're awfully wet it slips in easily, staring its pumping motion immediately in the same tempo as the other one. This makes you moan out loudly.  

"Her skin..." - you continue to describe your dream woman without Miranda encouraging you, which makes her awfully pleased - "So pale , flawless..."

"Soft?"

"Incredibly soft, yes" - you moan again, as you circle your fingers inside of you together, managing to find a good spot to drive the knot in your abdomen to a higher level - "every time i see her showing it , even just the slightest, i have the desire to-"

"To touch?" - she guesses for you, correctly on top of that , and you have no choice but to nod your head for confirmation - "i bet she would love that" 

"Miranda..." - you weakly groan out , feeling your toes curling on the floor. 

"No , don't moan my name" - she corrects you - "moan hers" 

"Miranda." - the smile that appears on her face is way too great. You wish to kiss it away. The cup , still half full of wine, is long forgetting on the the wooden surface of the table. The sofa shifts and creaks under the newly placed weight on it. Miranda takes a seat next you. With her being so close the stimulation in your lower belly grows stronger. 

"I'm... going to..." - you're completely out of breath while you try to warn her how close to the edge you are. The only thing stopping you from completely throwing yourself in the depths of pleasure is actually her. 

"Not yet." - her first command of the night that genuinely makes you weak , even gathering tears in the corners of your eyes - "patience, darling, patience."

"But i- ,i can't-" - there's no mercy in her eyes , not even when your hips rock against the sofa violently , desperately. 

"Then stop." - she has a solution for everything. You're not a big fan of this one , though. And still your fingers slowly decrease their tempo until they are no longer moving inside of you, leaving you needy and ruining your build up orgasm. 

"It's you who needs to stop" - you find energy to snap at her - "you're the reason I'm in such a condition." 

"I'm not even touching you" - she defends herself while you purse your lips. She chuckles and soon enough the sudden force she uses on your chin in order to guide your attention back to her works perfectly and you find yourself dangerously close to her. It takes a lot of self control not to claim the lips that begin to ghost over yours as she whispers - "would you like me to touch you, darling?" 

There's no need for you to confirm it with words as the answer of that question is visible as day for both of you. You've never seen the blonde woman this happy. 

Miranda leans closer to you, shoving her head at the side of your neck. While she slips one of her careful hands down your body until her palm takes a place on top of your own hand , which is still pretty much buried between your legs. Her slender fingers push on yours , urging them to start their movements again. And exactly that they do. The euphoria from the moment is much greater like that , especially when her hand makes the heel of your palm firmly press onto your clit. 

You hiss out of both pleasure and pain while her tongue begins to trail along your neck. Saliva drips from her mouth onto your heated skin , as if she has been purposely gathering it inside. Her lips move smoothly around the more pointy areas around your neck , like your collerbone for example, where her teeth specifically stop to scratch. 

"Look at you" - she whispers just below your ear, her hot breath forces your back to arch. You don't know where she has been till know, or what she has been doing but Miranda also smells of alcohol, and it's not only because of the wine from earlier. The strong hint of nicotine also dances around your nose , mixing with the sweet aroma of her perfume - "dripping on my couch like a needy slut." 

Your hate towards her , in reality, might be an obsession. Because you absolutely detest how correct she is. You are ,in fact dripping, on her couch, around her fingers. And all of that is because of her. 

You notice that Miranda is keen on the idea of her name being moaned out loud. Her body practically vibrates in excitement next to you. So you continue to roll the sound of her name on your tongue, as if it's the only word you know. 

"What a fool that boy is , to abandon such a treasure" - she murmurs, chin placed comfortably on your shoulder as she observes up close the clenching of your jaw, you can feel her free hand moving behind your arched back , in order to wrap itself around your waist - "He does not deserve you." - her lips place a tender kiss on your temple - "repeat it." 

"He doesn't-" - oh her teeth are sharp. The piercing feeling of them breaking the skin barrier of your right shoulder stimulates your eyes to roll backwards. 

"His affection is not equal to love" - she continues to enchant you with her words, forcing you to believe in everything she says - "say it louder, darling, come on" 

"He doesn't deserve me!" - you half scream at her, she slips her own thin fingers under your palm to stimulated your swollen clit , filthy moans caused by that friction mix with your heavy breathing and you squeeze your eyes shut, so close to release - "nor does he love me." 

You finally reach your final peak of euphoria. Your orgasm rips through your whole body , threatening to break you in half. Miranda holds you tight as you ride off the what seems like endless waves of pleasure. 

"Good girl" - she praises you, her gentle palm petting the side of your face - "such a good girl" 

"Kiss me... please..." - even with your mouth dry as a dessert you still follow your primal needs , which just happen to be the desire for her lips on yours - "please Miranda, please..." 

She leans closer , that look of unsurenes appears on her face. And she hesitates. You feel a pressure on your bottom lip, following the demand of her thumb resting there - you open your mouth. And her nose wrinkles. 

"You're drunk." - a statement. The smell of the wine must have gotten to her nose. You refuse to let that ruin your chances. 

"I'm not!" - you exclaim, placing your hand on top of her shoulders as any area bellow them is too risky to touch right now - "please Miranda, let me have this , just.... One kiss." 

Her eyes darken , yet the unfamiliar expression on her face stays. She's considering it. You know you look absolutely pathetic right now - begging the woman that just made you see starts for kisses , as if that's your only desire in the world. The blonde woman shifts in her place and you turn to her , ready to unravel her taken decision. 

Miranda is perfect in every aspect Philip couldn't be. Her lips brush against yours, just to test the waters , then she claims you in a tender kiss. To think this is everything she's going to give you is a joke. Aiming to keep you entertained, she pushes her tongue roughly into your mouth, ready to explore the inside of it. You mimic her movements right after she does it. 

A moan urges to escape from your throat, however it comes out murmured between your shared , heated kiss. You tremble as Miranda lets out a similar sound, meanwhile her hands start to wander around your neck and neck, only to finally cup your cheeks with loving palms 

She pulls away, a string of saliva connecting both of you. Heavy breathing fills the air , which is not definitely not enough, judging by how yours and the chest of the woman in front of you lifts rapidly up and down. She glares at you from beneath her eyelashes for just a second before making up her mind and leaning back to your sweet lips. As if she can't get enough. 

Unfortunately you make the mistake to shift your hands down, fingers shaking in desire to touch her, and you gently caress the exposed skin of her thighs. That forces her to stop , for real this time. 

"No, please.." - you're quick to beg her for more , arms tangling at the back of her neck in a weak attempt to keep her this close for as long as possible. 

"One kiss" - she reminds you. Miranda easily slips out of your grasp. She stands up, while fixing her dress , which one hand she gesture to your shaking legs , while with the other she begins to fidget with her necklace - "i expect you to get rid of the mess you've done before i force you to lick it clean." 

You might actually do it , if it's for her. But no , that isn't important right now. You need her , it's a tragedy she's standing so far from you. Yes, because currently, two steps to the side seem like an endless journey for you.

"Don't leave me like this" - you feel boneless, arms unable to lift and drag her on top of you yet again - "you can't." 

She laughs, the sound like silk on your skin , it makes you shiver. 

"I do whatever i desire to" - she assures you - "perhaps you should consider this a punishment, for going through my personal matters." - she stops to think for a moment - "without my permission." 

She knows. Of course she knows. It's enough to guess she's not talking about documents and useless paperwork by the way her tongue roll the word 'personal'. She's talking about what you saw in the chat with that mysterious woman. 

"How?" - your confusion is genuine. 

"It's not important" - her chuckle follows her body while it turns in the opposite direction, her back now facing you - "what you should know and remember is that you can't hide anything from me , no matter how hard you try." 

With that Miranda leaves alone, half naked and still incredibly turned on in the middle of the living room. With more mixed feelings than you're in condition to deal with. 

Death was right. You truly cannot handle her. 

Playing dangerous - Mother Miranda/reader

Warning for explicit content.

Chapter 9: Desire

Summary:

You spent some quality time with the girls, then you decide to finally make a move on Miranda. Things definitely don't go as planned.

The constant, aching pain throbs sharply in the back of your head, threatening to break your skull. It gets worse by the minute, or more suitable to say the second, as the feeling is compared to millions of tiny needles burning inside your brain.

The headache that has been bothering you all morning is not caused by the wine from yesterday, by all means. You've had drunken mornings much worse than the current and you're sure that such pain is born by something completely different. Or someone. 

You groan weakly , smashing your palms in the heated skin of your face , cheeks still burning from embarrassment. Your back hit the mattress beneath you while your eyes stare at the sealing, from behind the barns that you call fingers, which limite the space for a complete view. 

You're devoid of desire to see , hear or interact with anything at all. As there's only one thing possessing your mind currently. You don't understand it , she's been almost insignificant for you until now, so why can't you get Miranda out of your head? 

She's alluringly beautiful, of course. She's gentle and kind, only sometimes, in her own twisted ways. She might be the most interesting yet mysterious woman you've ever met. And despite Miranda clearly having something against you, since her rude behaviour continues to shine through her fake  smiles during the days , which you find out to not bother you as much as it did before, she can actually show sympathy. She cares , that she cannot hide. 

However, is that everything that makes you this... obsessed  with her? You don't think so , the attraction you feel towards her is something much bigger and important , coming from somewhere deep inside Miranda . As if your feet are buried in the ground while your souls are tied together. Chained, that is. Because you can't say that connection is entirely based on free will. 

You can't help but wonder how she feels. It's true she's not completely indifferent to you in the matter either. But you can only wish to understand her. Everytime you find yourself alone with her she just makes you more and more confused. However she did kiss you, with little to no hesitation. Such an act could...possibly  mean something, right? 

You bite your lower lip , curling up to side on your bed in the meantime. You tightly hug your pillow, still lost in thoughts about the older woman. You're still very much questioning yourself, yet one thing is certain. You like her.  And with a little bit of luck , the universe might decide to grand you a wish and make her like you too. Judging by her odd behaviour towards you, the desired star gift is already sent. 

Or...Miranda is just used to wandering around, trying to flirt with everybody around her. You shake your head. It doesn't sound like her at all. She's definitely fond of you, in what way exactly is yet left to be discovered. 

Your phone screen lights up, triggered by a new notification, just as you were about to grab it , determined to text Miranda and ask her if she's willing to go out with you, on a date , perhaps...

However your mouth swings open as you observe your phone more closely. And you quickly understand that you've been too late , because it is Miranda who is texting you. You've never unlocked your phone this fast. A part of you stays disappointed when you see that she hasn't said anything,  instead a picture file pops up in your new messages. 

Miranda isn't home. You note that first, because the background of the picture doesn't match with any room decor in the mansion. Yet , it's not the white flooring and silver desk , covered in documents which peak from its edges,  that thrills you. 

Snow colored shirt covers her chest way too nicely, few top buttons are purposely open , in order to slightly show the beginning base of her breasts, however for you It's different - since she has taken the picture in an  upper angle, the access you're granted is much larger and you can actually see the edges of her dark bra , that veils over her fair skin. 

Your eyes dare to linger lower and you do not regret it. The tight, tarred , short lengthed skirt she's wearing embraces her thighs with perfection, and with the way she has pressed them together you're given a good reminder of how gorgeous the curves of her body can be. Her legs below her skirt, covered in long, black stockings, definitely don't help you out neither.

The last thing you manage to take a glance in that photo is her pointy heels which peak from the bottom of the image, adding to her whole outfit , before shutting off your phone and slamming it into the pillow next to you. 

You hide your face in your palms yet again, breathing sharply in and out , unable to process the picture fully, to process her. You grab your phone after a few seconds of thinking, opening the chat immediately, glaring at her status. She's still online, she's waiting for your response. You curse while sitting up, your mess of a hair falling around your shoulders as you cross your legs on the bed. 

Your imagination is already picturing her grinning like a vicious witch while calmly sitting on her office desk , with her fingers briefly refreshing the chat , eager to witness  your reaction. You roll your shoulders back , cracking your back in the process, then your thumbs begin to unsurely type an answer. 

I think you're sending this to the wrong person. 

Miranda knows you've seen the hidden chats with Mia, and her provocatively alluring pictures. Though you didn't expect to receive one as well , you're not complaining, however you're sure she's doing it in order to punish you again, in some sort. The last thing you're going to do is fall for her tricks. Her response is quick to arrive. 

Am i , darling? I'm sure i checked twice if it's you who's receiving this. 

She almost makes you question the purpose of the picture, almost. You stop yourself right before you can  type 'Why?' . That's probably what she wants you to ask , so instead of doing her bidding you stop to think for a moment. Then you send your reply. 

Maybe try a third time next time , Miranda?

Her answer is a little bit delayed. Good , you've managed to get her thinking carefully before texting you again. Now you're both at the same level. You can't help the urging smile that appears on your lips. You're hoping she's smiling too, you'd hate to bring her mood down. 

Maybe. Or perhaps i should think more wisely before deciding to honour you for being so good for me yesterday. I could have given you something much worse instead of that nice treatment. 

You gag out a laugh after reading the last words of her finished sentence. Truly it wasn't the worst experience in your life but it was definitely humiliating. 'Nice treatment' isn't a word you would use to describe last night's events. Miranda is the last person you wanted to see you in such state. Yet the past is unfixable. 

I'm a grown woman , i can take a punishment. 

Your thumbs ghost over the screen, patiently waiting for her reply. You tug a piece of hair behind your ear just as her next message pops up. 

I'm not keen on that matter. Punishments, that is. 

So last night was for her entertainment only? You don't have enough time to think about it because she adds another sentence to her previous one. 

Perhaps a video shall do it for you, darling? 

You blink once, then twice. Your fingers dig into the fabric of the pillow. Is it possible for the effect of the alcohol to appear on her hours after she has consumed it? Because there's no way she's texting you this sober. Just thinking about Miranda returning the favour from yesterday is enough to sent thrilling shivers down your spine. You'd love to see that and you're even more excited knowing that she's the one asking, meaning she'd probably do it. 

Yet you behave yourself, an inner voice in your head telling you it's completely wrong. Even your thumbs feel disappointed with your response. 

I'm pretty sure both of us have much more important things to do right now. 

She quickly begins to type a reply but she hesitates and for a good two minutes you're left to wonder what exactly she's going to do next. Then you have it. 

Pity. I'm in a good mood. 

In an excellent mood you might add. However, before you can say anything back to her , she goes offline and you throw your phone back on the mattress, determined to ignore any further notifications from her , for now. 

Then your attention shifts to the footsteps caused by tiny legs in the corridor outside of your room. You stretch out with a yawn, your headache  long forgetting,ready to take care of the girls for the day while Miranda is away.  

And in the meantime to carefully think of your next approach to the older woman and the conversations you wish to have with her. 

***** 

As always, the breakfast awaits both you and the girls on the table. Your job is only to reheat it before Eveline and Eva can come downstairs. Just as you wait for the microwave to stop it's countdown, you hear almost silent steps behind you. 

You've spent enough time in the mansion to know that every resident here likes to sneak up on you and do their best to scare you. That worked, you'll give them that, for a while. But now you're absolutely used to it , you're even sure you can also try to return the favour if you desired to.  One of the girls is trying to sneak up on you, but a question remains. Which one? 

A squeaky noise echoes through the room, making you smile. Wrong step , wrong plank in the parquet. Eva and Miranda move flawlessly along the floor everytime they walk around you , as if they are floating over it. But Eveline is a bit more careless , though she tries her best. 

You swiftly turn around, ready to suprise her. Your smile fades in confusion while you observe the emptiness in front of you. Eveline is not there. One single tug on your sleeve makes every hair on your body stands up. Your heart begins to race , as the sudden rush of shock tenses your body. 

The black haired girl's laugh hits your ears before you can spot her next to the kitchen counter on your left. You also smile ,  though your hand dashes towards your chest, in attempt to calm your heart. 

"Got me" - you gag out a laugh, running your fingers tightly around your throat - "unfairly, but you got me." 

"You're just easy to scare" - Eveline explains , while taking her usual seat on the left side of the table, she gives you a thankful smile when you put her plate in front of her, as she takes her first bite she murmurs - "Predictable..." 

You roll your eyes. Truth is , you've grown very close to the little girl. In fact, at the current state of the mansion, she seems like the most trustable person you can talk to. That doesn't stop her from being sassy from time to time. 

"Where's Eva?" - you ask, ignoring her previous sentence. They usually come down together, or shortly after the other does. But it's been a good five minutes without the blonde girl making her way downstairs. 

"Oh, don't wait for her" - Eveline advises you, so you nod your head and sit down on the table next to her , still carefully placing utensils for Eva too - "one of her... butterfly pets died, so now she has to mourn it. It will take her a while." 

"Is she going to be okay?" - you don't understand her connection with the butterflies very well but you respect her interest and love for them. And it bothers you when the little girl is grumpy. 

"They die all the time. She's used to it" - her sister reassures you - "another butterfly will reincarnated soon, it will make her forget the death of the previous one. Just let her do her stuff , she'll join us when she's done."

You nod your head to show her you understand. As you begin to feed yourself as well ,though, the idea of asking Miranda on a date pops up in your head yet again. You're certain you need to know more about her in order to make the time you're about to spend with her enjoyable. And with her out of the house, Eveline is your second best option to get that information. 

"In that case" - you interrupt the few minutes of silence that happened to materialise between you, making the girl look up to you - "Can i ask you a few questions?" 

"Sure." - the girl seems happy to give you answers. You count that as a victory, a little step closer to knowing Miranda better - "What for?" 

"It's Miranda" - it's not only her name but the way it rolls off your tongue that requests more serious discussion. You nervously bite the inside of your cheek while careful observing the shock, which runs through Eveline's face , as if that topic is the last thing she expected. 

"Mother? What about mother?" - she asks in genuine confusion, hands placed around her now empty plate. You also shove yours to the side , as your appetite disappears. 

"Can you keep a secret?" - you whisper, leaning closer to the black haired girl. Her pupils dilate in curiosity, as she's eager to learn what secret you have about her mother. She nods her head up and down, giving you the green lights to tell her. 

"She kissed me last night." - you really shouldn't be this proud while saying that, especially when you literally begged her to do so. 

"She kissed-" - Eveline exclaims , slamming her palm on the surface of the table, her head shifts from side to side , probably checking for more curios ears around the two of you, then her voice goes down to a whispering tone - "mother, my mother kissed  you?" 

"She did." - Miranda did and Eveline doesn't need to know how or why. Nor will you tell her. You cross your arms in front of your chest while you try not to laugh at Eveline, who's still pretty much trying to process what you just told her. 

"Willingly?" - the girl asks , eyebrows lifted upwards, eyes widened wide. 

"Of course." - well almost, if you only count the second time. Still you wave your hand in the air as if it's a stupid question to ask - "How exactly can I force her?"  

"So that means..." - Eveline grabs the end of the table, nervously dragging her nails along the surface, making a noise that rings in your ears and you try your best to ignore it - "She loves you, so you do. And you will...get married and live together?!" 

Her guesses are way too bold and rushed. And with the way she speaks , fast and messy, you almost don't process what she has just said. Then you repeat it one more time in your head before you burst out laughing. 

"Evie you... that's a lot." - you hate to see her excitement evaporating from her face , but you can't leave her with such fantasies in her head - "love is a strong word, you know?" 

"But she kissed you?" - a hint of confusion in her voice. 

"That doesn't define love, sweetie" - you extend and arm to  brush her hair behind her shoulders and gently caress her head , trying to calm her as obvious sadness overtakes her - "it's more complicated, and a kiss doesn't solve it." - you pause to look at her now furrowed eyebrows - "That's why i wanted to ask you what she likes. I plan to ask her on a date." 

"A date?" - the shining excitement is back on her face within seconds, it makes you smile - "Ask all you want then, I've got you." 

"Well for starters...if i decide to take her a restaurant" - Eveline listens carefully, fully devoted into your problems - "For what kind should i go?" 

"Oh, that's hard" - she sighs , grabbing the side of her face and tapping a few times on the table with a sharp nail, trying her best to think of a solution - "Mother hates to be around many people, so make sure it's more private." 

"Noted" - you give her an encouraging smile. 

"Also, the food" - she points a finger at you - "be careful, choose wisely, she's a very peaky eater. So if the food is not to her liking then...I'm not sure how that date will go on." 

"What food should i go for , then?" - thinking about it now, you've rarely even seen Miranda eat anything. You beg the gods to not completely allow this to fuck everything up. 

"She only seems to enjoy her own cooking" - Eveline shifts up her shoulders in unsurenes. And you blink slowly in desperation. Of course, you're fucked. 

"Should i mention that she's very keen on fancy restaurants as well?" - Eveline gives you a mocking smile - "don't even bother if you think of taking her to a  pizza place or something similar." 

"That's not much of a suprise actually" - you clear your throat, before beginning to play with your fingers - "Does she likes music, dancing?" 

Perhaps a club will be the key for her locked door. 

"Oh, gods no" - Eveline sets you up at zero again - "Well dancing, i don't think she hates , however when it comes to music...she's weird. She only listens to calm melodies with no lyrics. She hates people's voices singing absurd things over the pretty notes of music." 

"So she listens to what?" - you throw your hand in the air - "Classical music?" 

"I have no idea" - the black haired girl scoffs , locking her eyes with yours - "It's not the genre i like , that's certain." 

So definitely not something you're fond of either. Because judging from the car trip from yesterday, you and the girls have pretty much the same taste in music. But of course, Miranda has to go fancy with it. 

"Well with only knowing she's obsessed with reading and is a science freak" - which you like and it's definitely helpful when it comes to your own personal struggles with university, she's truly a good teacher - "what else do i have left to acknowledge so i can discover her completely?" 

"You're a bit wrong" - Eveline corrects you - "Mother has many interests, hobbies as well. But I'm not sure they're fit for a date." 

You both grow silent, as you loose yourself in thoughts about Miranda and what exactly you can do to romance her. Eveline tells you about her interest in fashion and a funny story from years ago when she tried learning how to produce her own clothing but she failed miserably, so now she pays extra for designers , as she feels hatred towards fast fashion and cheap, not aesthetically pleasing garments. No wonder her chosen outfits are always so well styled. 

"I say it's the best if you just ask her" - the girl speak out loud her final advice for you - "And then let mother decide where she wants to go." 

"Let mom decide to go where?" - now that's a sneak up that's up for a reward, because it doesn't only manage to scare you but it also makes Eveline jump in her seat. You both turn around to observe your unexpected visitor. Eva has a boring expression on her face. When none of you greets her normally, still in shock from her presence, she gets angry. 

"What are you two talking about?" - she asks , annoyed, while taking a seat next to her sister. She's determined to get an answer, because she doesn't even give her plate a glare, instead she focus her attention on you. 

"Nothing important, Eva" - you wave her off , exchanging worried glances with Eveline. You know the blonde haired girl is protective of her mother, so telling her your plans now might ruin your chances. 

She scoffs with a disgusted look occupying her face. 

"Fine. Don't tell me." - her curiosity abandons her just as she plugs her hand in and out of  her pocket and quickly throws a list of paper on the table, perfectly landing it in front of you, her little finger points at you and you get the idea that it is, in fact meant for you. 

Miranda's handwriting is very recognisable, you have no trouble finding out it's hers as your eyes carefully scan the little paper in your hands. A grocery list. 

"Your mama wants us to go shopping?" - you tilt your chin towards Eva with an urging smile. Every opportunity to leave the mansion is a blessing you don't plan to ever ignore or miss out. 

"She's quite busy today, so yes." - the younger girl  finally decides to start eating her breakfast after answering your  so obvious in her eyes question. Your smile doesn't drop from your face even after you put the shopping list in the case of your phone, in order not to loose it. 

A new car trip awaits the three of you right after breakfast.

.

.

.

"How many stores left?" - Eveline asks weakly from the backseat of your car , her hand gently pushing on Eva's shoulder to keep her awake, as the energy of both of them is long gone, along with yours. 

Why does Miranda have to be this peaky? About literally everything. You've been to several different stores just to get her needed groceries. That kind of work is more intense and exhausting then all of your babysitting adventures till now merged together. 

"I think this is the last one" - you say , unbuckling your seat belt lazily, then grabbing the now scrambled shopping list in your hands to read the finally reached end - "we just have to buy..." - you make a pause, because what's written on the bottom confuses you - "Hair dye?" 

Miranda bleaches her hair? You always thought she's a natural blonde, judging by how good the colour suits her. 

"Since when does your mother dye her hair?" - you turn around to the girls, unexpectedly greeted by confused faces , as if you're asking the obvious. 

"Since forever?" - Eva raises a brow in your direction. 

"She used to do it at home" - Eveline tries to clear out the picture for you, almost immediately making you imagine Miranda sat patiently, waiting for her crafted hair dye to do it's magic - "but she couldn't quite make the colour she desired, which is Eva's, so she gave up and started going around shops for it , only the best, of course." 

Well that explains the nice colour of dripping gold her hair posseses. Your gaze shifts to Eva, the little copy of Miranda. Looking closely you can almost spot the difference in the shades of blonde between the mother and daughter. 

"Interesting" - you note out loud, caughting the younger girl's attention - "I always assumed you got your colour directly from Miranda, and not the other way around." 

It's kind of cute. Maybe the woman just wanted to match with her daughter? You don't have a of time to think about it because Eva interrupts the wandering thoughts from forming in your head. 

"This hair colour is the only thing i inherited from my father" - Eva grabs a few locks of honey between her fingers, gently twisting before releasing them back in their original place - "mommy was never very fond of it..." 

So instead of changing Eva's hair she bleached hers? So she would resemble more of her and not her...

"Father?" - you ask in surprise - "I thought Miranda was..." 

Not that much into men. But then again, she did say Eveline is the adopted one so it's not impossible for Eva to have a real father, which Miranda liked , at least a little, in order to have her. You're more than confused. Something it definitely not adding up. 

"Was what...?" - Eva's question reminds you of the two girls who are way too eager to finally get home and rest , as most of the day was spent in many , many different shops.

"Nothing." - you're quick to wave it off and the girl is too tired to care , yet your curiosity stays and you can't stop yourself from asking - "Where's your father now?" 

"Long dead and forgotten." - voice as cold as winter, it's clear the man is not a happy memory to the little girl - "i doubt mommy even bothered to bury him. It was so many years ago." 

It's been a long day. Maybe you didn't hear her correctly, or maybe you did. But you know you have no desire for her to repeat the sentence she just murmured, nor to try and understand it , to make it make sense. You give up, too exhausted for that. 

"Alright. Let's get that hair dye and get home." - the girls are more than happy to follow your given request. 

***** 

You manage to calculate the exact time to come home just as Miranda's black jeep also parks in front of the mansion. Next to it your tiny car looks miserable insignificant , copying the feelings that sometimes hit you when you stand too close to Miranda herself. 

The two girls in the back seat immediately wake up from their half-sleeping half-being awake state , in a hurry to unbuckle their seat belts to get out of the car and run to their mother, who is already standing gracefully in front of the grand  entrance. 

And while she bends down her knees in order to get to her daughter's height level , while she hugs and occupies them with loving kisses , as the woman hasn't seen them all day , you can't stop the burning feeling of her gaze falling upon you. Your hands grip the steering wheel impossibly tight as you swallow. 

You have to get out of the car, sooner or later , regardless of the woman that you both hate and love to see is still standing there or not. You  sigh , remembering that you also have a few very heavy , very full of groceries backs you need to somehow drag in the mansion, alone. 

Your eyes shift one final time back to Miranda's direction. She's gone , along with her two daughters. Just perfect. 

The sad grumbling of childish frustration pours through the open-doored rooms on the lower floor of the mansion and you manage to hear the girls' displeasure before you can get to the kitchen ,ready to deliver  the groceries. They stand with angry faces and crossed arms in front of Miranda, who is slightly curled over them,  smiling comfortingly. 

The moment your feet take the first step into the room, the blonde woman looks at you and her eyes light up. It's as if you are her comfort after a hard day, a salvation from her children, who continue to try  to get  her attention in every way possible. Miranda has to stop Eva from pulling the edge of her shirt as she clears her throat and points at you. 

"Why don't you go watch the movie with her , loves?" - there's a pleading hint in her voice, that matches perfectly with the vulnerable tension that curves her eyebrows - "I'm sure she'd be delighted to spend more time with you." 

"But you promised!" - this time it's Eveline who makes Miranda roll her eyes in annoyance, as she takes a deep breath, shifting her head in the little girl's attention. 

"Sweetheart, I'm exhausted from work" - she gently brushes the rivers of dark hair , that hoover over the girl's face , then she cups her cheeks - "and by what I'm hearing your own day wasn't very short either." 

"That's okay" - Eva tugs the sleeve of Miranda shirt again, demanding her attention, there's a large , proud smile on her face - "I can prepare the snacks if you're tired , mommy." 

"There's no need for that , Eva" - with her free hand she pats her head , before she can continue speaking, however, Eveline interrupts her. 

"And i can fix the paper screen for the movie!" - you can clearly notice the moment Miranda starts to question her decisions, heavy influenced by her daughter's eager demands. 

"How about I do all of that?" - your unexpected intervention causes all three to turn to you, their faces expressing such shared surprise that they could pass for twins, you sink your heels more firmly into the floor with your next word - "So you can go ahead, get changed and then we can...watch the movie together?" 

Miranda blinks a few times , her lips slightly part , as she's ready to argue, however she hesitates. Without any further discussions she breaks free from her daughter's grasp and takes a few steps closer to you. 

You think she's going to stop and maybe brings matters to crazy levels, as she usually does. But instead she just brushes her fingers carefully over your shoulder as she walks completely past you, her heels dragging lazily on the floor, a large smile on her lips. 

"It's a date, then." 

Eveline giggles right after Miranda leaves the room. Part of you also finds it hard not the curve the corners of your lips upwards. 

.

.

.

The big, red sofa in the library is perhaps even softer than Miranda's bed itself. It buckles under the weight of from the  four of you above it. First you sit, somewhere in the middle, so you can look at the paper screen at the best angle. Eveline finds her seat on your left, a small pillow in her hands. Miranda settles on your other side, Eva is  following closely after her , carrying a thin blanket to cover herself with as she stays calmly in her mother's embrace. 

You start the film not long after. The fact that it's not an animation surprises you because you expected it to be one, after all Eveline and Eva are children, but no, instead all of you happen to  enjoy a comedy  together, for about a quarter of an hour ,before you feel the weight of the already sleeping body of the black haired girl falling on your left side. 

Ten minutes follow quickly and as you shift your eyes to the side , you catch Eva sleeping soundlessly next to her mother as well. You give both of them a genuine smile, completely understanding their exhaustion. You also hate going in circles through different shops. And Miranda didn't exactly make it easy for it. 

Speaking of the blonde woman, you can't help the goosebumps that awaken in your body as she places her head on your shoulder, giving into sweet slumber along with her daughters. With all of them practically using you as a pillow you force yourself to stay completely still, not wanting to take the risk is disturbing their sleep, in any way possible. 

However, as the movie reaches its end you manage to relax. And as if enchanted your hand moves up, face tilting in Miranda's direction. You shouldn't touch her , yet your fingers brush against her forehead only a second after they reject that thought. 

You slowly drag your thumb downwards, below her eyes , past the hill of her cheekbones , along the valley of her cheeks, down to the base of her slightly parted lips. You loose the battle with your conscience , allowing yourself to drag the soft pads of your fingertips over her bottom lip. 

Your breath hitches the moment her eyelashes twitch gently, one , then two times , giving you enough time to retreat your hand back. A few seconds after her eyes snap open and she lazily yawns. 

"Has the movie ended?" - she dares not moves, not wanting to wake up Eva as well. Though her eyes stay focused on you. 

"Do you want me to play another one?" - your face is intimidatingly close to hers , as both of you try to stay quiet around the two  sleeping kids on the sofa. 

"Oh, darling" - she whispers - "it's charming you still think i care about that film."  

Miranda does not allow you to answer. Her lips press against yours , silencing you before you can form a reasonable sentence. The kiss she's currently gifting you has nothing to do with the one from last night. She's so gentle, angelic, almost as if she's afraid of the possibility to break you. And you give  completely into her. 

Suddenly you feel hot , her body heat so close to melting your skin. With each perfect curve of her lips pressing against yours, she manages to light a new and successive fire in your soul. You would willingly throw yourself into that fire if it meant you could kiss her like that whenever and wherever you wanted.

Her teeth tenderly scratch on your lower lip , however before you can open your mouth more , in order to give her wicked tongue further access, she parts away. Your fist goes to tug on her nightgown.

"Miranda..."- you whisper her name in a warning, low tone. 

"I'm tired..." - she murmurs back to you, placing a single, swift kiss over your lips, her nose brushing against yours. Then you cross your arms and carefully observe her every move as she shakes Eva's shoulder. When the little girl opens her eyes , Miranda assures her it's time for bed , and gently picks her up, disappearing into the darkness leading to the upper floor. 

You leave before she can return to grab Eveline as well. 

.

.

.

This cannot go on like this. You don't want to be a toy in Miranda's hands for her  to play with whenever she express her desire to do so. It has maybe been half an hour, in which you've rolled in your bed from side to side , trying desperately to get that bloody woman out of your head. Yet , she stays there like a parasite. 

That's why you're currently standing in front of her bedroom door, determined to have a serious talk with her. You're in luck, because no matter how tired she might have looked in the library, she's still pretty much not asleep, as the golden light from an inner lamp shines under the crack of the door. 

You don't bother to knock, you know she's going to invite you in anyway. The door shifts open revealing the room ahead of you. Miranda sits calmly in front of her rich vanity ,  various cosmetics, mixed with makeup and many nice smelling creams placed all over it. The simple oversized, white shirt she's wearing looks almost funny on her , since you're used to seeing her in her fancy outfits. Even her nightgown could pass for an evening dress , if she was wearing it right now. 

You quick acknowledge the reason of why she changed her clothes. Because you manage to catch her right in the middle of her hair bleaching process. Her hair is carefully sectioned and supported by many little clips , part of it already covered in the light coloured dye. 

You give her a faint smile, closing the door after you. After all she never told you to leave. 

"You know, I would never have suspected that you dye your hair" - you stand closely behind her , your reflection in the mirror in front of you towering over hers - "to think that instead of naturally blonde you're..." 

You're not sure what her real hair might look like actually. 

"A brunette." - Miranda helps you out - "I'm not fond of that colour ,though." 

You've never gotten the chance to observe her this closely, this precisely. Currently you're able to spot the darker shades in her roots. She allows you to wrap a string of her hair around your fingers. 

"Why not?" -  you sharply tug on that single, golden piece, imagining her hair suddenly switching to a dark , brown colour. She wrinkles her nose - "I'm sure you still look amazing." 

"It has nothing to do with me , darling" - she assures you, amusement ghosting over her face. 

"How so?" - you don't realise when your fingers break any contact with her hair and instead they linger over the skin of her nape , around the side of her neck. She doesn't mind it. 

"When Eva was younger, she spent... quite some time away from me." - Miranda stops to rub the base of her throat, as if she has trouble breathing. You hesitate to grab her hand in yours - "i was afraid by the possibility of me forgetting how she looks like." 

"So you dyed your hair to reassemble her more?" - they truly look like twins , one is a complete copy of the other , but hair can change the appearance of a person a lot. Miranda nods at your next words - "So you wouldn't forget her." 

"I tried to go back to being brunette when she came back to me..." - Miranda waves her hand in the air , making you notice the awful ring she's still wearing. You wonder if she takes it off even when she sleeps - "But I could not like myself with that colour anymore." 

You dare not ask why Eva was away from her. Miranda seems tense enough just by mentioning it, you don't want to spoil her mood completely by forcing her to tell you more. 

"Allow me to help you with that , Miranda" - you take the brush she has been adding the bleach with till now from her hand and begin to work it on your own way. 

"Go ahead, darling" - she doesn't complain. In fact, she's quick to relax under your skillful fingers. 

You've dyed your hair a few times in your teenage years, so the activity is a  child's play for your hands. And it doesn't take long before you manage to cover the length of Miranda's hair with the bleach, including her roots. Now all you have to do is wait, which gives you the perfect chance to ask her about the planned date. 

"Miranda, would you consider..." - you start unsurely, carefully observing her face in the mirror - "...going out with me , for dinner perhaps?" 

She scoffs. That's not good. 

"I consider that very unprofessional" - she speaks with a mocking tone , which lights up a different fire within you , one born by anger - "along with the things you feel towards me." - she pauses for a moment - "After all I'm your boss-" 

Miranda hisses in pain when you grab a large portion of her hair and twist it around your hand , then you roughly pull it backwards, forcing her head to follow that direction. Only  her deliciously looking ,bare neck is left to reflex in the mirror by this new angle.

"That's unprofessional?" - you spit out, bringing your frustrated face closer to her own , though a hint of playfulness shines behind her dilated pupils - "I didn't hear you complaining about being my boss last night. Or  when you kissed me nearly an hour ago." 

You don't even want to mention the picture from early this morning.

She tries to stand up but your other hand pushes hard onto her shoulder, forcing her back down. She growls while the grip you possess her golden locks with tightness. 

"Ruin my hair and you'll have to start all over again" - she warns you. 

"If that means I'll spend more time with you..." - you whisper dangerously close to her ear - "...then I'll do it." 

Miranda laughs at you again. Making fun of you is another secret hobby of hers , it seems. You cut her off by  granting her another harsh tug on her hair. This time she bares her white teeth at you. Both of you know you're walking on thin ice. But in your defence she has crossed the line long ago. You can also play games. 

"I want you, Miranda" - you have the awful desire to be with her , almost all the time , the idea of her makes your head feel heavy and chest full of inexplicable happiness - "Please don't make me say how badly." 

You're willing to beg her. You're sure she would love that. 

"Tell me darling" - her hands move up to cup your cheeks in an uncomfortable for both of you position, yet none of you moves away , her lips are perfectly ready for kissing from this angle - "Did your desire come before or after seeing the pictures meant for Mia?" 

For Mia, and not for you. Curiosity truly kills the cat. 

"Before..." - you whisper, it's not a lie. You definitely had something going on about her in your head before going through that chat. You were just denying the attraction you feel towards her. 

"And you want me for what i am..." - she gets a hold of the hand that has been pushing on her shoulder till now and you can only watch, barely breathing, and feel  as she guides your fingers down the curves of her chest, it's when they reach the edges of her shirt that she whispers back to you - "...or my body." 

"I want all of you, everything you got" - your left hand finally releases her hair, while your other stays at the end of her shirt, unmoving, with a wrist still locked between her slender fingers - "I'm not the selfish woman Mia is-" 

"You know nothing about Mia." 

"I know enough to say she's treating you like a mere mistress." - a pause - "and nothing more." 

Within seconds Miranda manages to not only stand up but somehow push you backwards until your back hits the wall behind you and she grabs a hold of your collar. 

"I loved her."  - her face is deformed by anger, mixed with the salty feeling of sadness - "I've spent ten years of my life loving her." 

"Loved." - this particular word you decide to repeat it enough to hint to Miranda that Mia is in the past. And you can be her future. 

The woman releases you, as she speaks again you shiver. Her voice is cold as ice , and it's as if she's spitting venom at you. 

"What do you want?" - she takes a step back to her vanity, it's sickening to see her this distressed - "What do you want from me?" 

A single voice crack convinces you  Mia is a very , very forbidden thing to discuss. As the blonde woman in front of you is at the verge of tears. The dislike you've had towards Mia shapes into hatred. Because you hate to see Miranda upset. 

"Let me take you on a date." - you shallow when you take a step closer to you and she lifts a hand to hold you in your current place - "Let me treat you right, Miranda I want t-" 

"Fine" - she urges to say , licking her dry lips as her fingers find the safety edges of her vanity - "Fine , fine. Just...tell me when so i can choose a place." 

"This Friday?" - you try to move closer to her again but she shakes her head. 

She agrees without further ado. And you obey her when she asks you, begs you, to get  out and leave her alone. Neither of you bid the other goodnight as you silently close her bedroom door behind you. 

You feel a strange feeling in your chest as the sound of her locking her door almost immediately after you're no longer in it makes its way to your head. And you look down at your hair dye covered palms, sighing deeply.  

Playing dangerous - Mother Miranda/reader

Warning for explicit content.

Chapter 10: First date

Summary:

Definitely NOT the worst date they could have.

Eveline sits calmly at the edge of her mother's bed , swiftly kicking her legs forward, as she hums a long forgotten melody while hoping that her mother would come out of the bathroom already. The girl has grown incredible bored, waiting for Miranda to finally get ready with her peaky clothing style. Such an act  can be a bit exhausting for her short spawn of interest, but she manages to be patient. She's on a mission after all. 

It took Miranda almost an hour to cut the question of what exactly she wants to wear for her special date with you to exactly two decisions. Then Eveline almost gave up when she spent the next twenty minutes in wondering which of the two almost identical dresses to put on. At least her variety of shoes wasn't too great, as the woman is mainly keen on heels. It's not like she goes outside often anyhow. 

Going through her four different jewelry boxes ,  though , was the hardest battle Eveline had to participate in. Because in that  Miranda is really fond of. The way the little girl's eye was twitching in annoyance every time her mother asked her if she liked how a certain necklace or a bracelet looked on her could be seen from miles away. It took her a lot of self control not to excuse herself out her the room and leave at the very second. 

Now , however, her struggles seem to come to an end. As the bathroom door finally swings open and Miranda walks out with her hair and makeup done , which is a relief for Eveline. The last two steps in Miranda's getting routine are finally done. 

Per usual her golden hair , which shines even more brightly now that is freshly dyed, is slicked back, leaving only a few thin strands of honey coloured strings to wander over her face. Her smokey eyeshadow has a hint of red to it , nothing too much as she likes to keep it simple, but yet dark. The same goes for her mascara, nothing too heavy or clumped. The black , slightly winged eyeliner she's wearing gives a nice touch of sharpness to her makeup , and her face in general, as if she doesn't look mean enough already. Her lips are definitely more simply organised, but the light colour of a red lipstick is still present. 

"You look beautiful, mother" - Eveline has always adored her mother's beauty. And not once has she caught herself wishing she can grow out to look like her more. 

"So do you, sweetheart" - the girl smiles as her mother places a soft, loving kiss on her forehead. Miranda likes compliments, however instead of being thankful for them she often returns the flavour by praising the person who decided to compliment her as well. It's an old habit of hers that stayed over the years. 

Miranda looks at her reflection in the mirror and her lips curl up in a smile, pleased with the chosen outfit. The dress she's wearing is floor lengthed, made of a rich, dark, green fabric, the skirt loose with a high slit on the side. She lifts her arms to observe the long sleeves that fall past the wrist, and breaths in, her eyes locked in the slightly deeper  neckline her current dress has, unlike her others. The fabric is thin and flowy, almost like silk, but it’s much darker in color. It’s elegant, and perfect for a fancy event. She finds herself hoping it will fit your liking. 

The tall woman takes a few steps to her large wardrobe and begins to search through her clothes for maybe the  hundredth time this evening. The black haired girl knows her mother is keen on fashion, yet she can't help but wonder how does she never get tired of looking at all those fabrics, trying to find the tiniest difference in between them.

"Which coat should i get, Evie?" - the girl rolls her eyes at yet another question about what she prefers. At least this time she's lucky, because her options do have their differences. In her right head Miranda holds a long , dark leather coat while in her left she presents to the girl a shorter one , with a bit more fur to it. 

"Why?" - Eveline crosses her legs on the bed , tilting her head in Miranda's direction, lost in wonder of why is her mother suddenly deciding to wear coats when she usually doesn't - "You don't get cold." 

"But she does, sweetheart." - one of the two outer garments lands with a tug on the bed covers close to Eveline, with a little bit of closer observation the girl finds the leather coat positioned next to her - "And i don't want to be rude." 

A mere excuse Miranda uses to hide her affection. It forces a smile out of Eveline. 

"I'm not sure i like this necklace enough..." - the girl's smile drops down in disappointment and she grimaces when her mother removes the golden chain from around her neck and walks to her vanity, where a pile of rejected jewelry stays untouched - "Maybe i should try another one." 

Eveline won't allow herself to go through that again. She's quick to jump off the bed ans speedily marsh to the closed door. Miranda looks distressed with her daughter leaving her. 

"You go ahead and do that, mom" - Eveline waves her hand in the air , already with one leg out of the room , back now completely turned to the woman inside - "I'm going to let her know you're ready." 

Miranda isn't mad at Eveline for disappearing. In fact, she can't help the big smile that appears on her face as the girl exits her chamber. She has always called her 'mother' , but never 'mom'. She feels unfamiliar warmth inside her chest, knowing that the awful distance between them is slowly but surely melting away. 

***** 

You swiftly open your door the moment you hear the double knocking on the wooden surface from the outside. And you smile. Eveline's eyes sparkle in excitement as you allow her to come in. 

"So?" - you urge her to give you information while you make sure noone with noisy ears is hiding in the corridor. Then you close the door and turn to the girl in front of you that is practically jumping in need to talk to you. 

"Green." - she burps out , then as she sees you getting confused she clears her throat and tries again, arms crossed in a series manner - "She'll be wearing a green dress. Very classy. Oh, and a lot of jewelry." 

Eveline shakes at the memory of having to share her opinion on which earrings match more with her mother's dress , despite them being almost identical in the girl's eyes. 

You nod your head , heading to your wardrobe, in hope you can try to find something in the same colour palette. You've made a deal with Eveline last night, you convinced her to spy on Miranda, then run to you and share in details what the woman is planning to wear. So you can choose something similar and both of you can so unexpectedly match. In reality you just really, really  want this date to be perfect. 

Your fingertips brush against several different to the touch fabrics  before your eyes spot a darkish colour, wandering at the back of your drawer. You manage to grab it and you observe it closely. A dark green, sleeveless vest. 

"How about this?" - you turn around in order to show it to Eveline. 

"Oh, that's the same shade !" - she exclaims happily. And suddenly your confidence about how the date will go grows up, you can even bet it's going to be an amazing night. 

"I think i can style it with those..." - you pull out a pair of milky, white coloured,  fair pants along with nicely thick, dark belt. You place the two pieces of clothing together in front of your body , tilting your head towards Eveline - "What do you think?" 

"Try it on!" - she urges you, already pushing you to your bathroom door , making both of you to giggle. 

A few minutes later you come out with your freshly new outfit. To be honest you like how the colours go with eachother, the pants have always been one of your favourites , meanwhile the vest hugs your chest perfectly. You hope you look good enough for Miranda's taste. 

"Well?" - you shove your hands in your pockets. 

"Very pretty." - she gives you an encouraging smile which you return - "I'm sure mother will love you." 

"Yeah, I'm counting on that." - you grin , turning around to face the mirror. You do look good. You've decided not to go too big with hairstyle or makeup since you don't want to overdo it and force a bad impression of yourself in Miranda's mind. You don't want to make it look like you crave her praise and approval. Even though you're ready to have an inner battle with yourself if you actually do or don't - "Alright, i think I'm ready. Just let me grab a jacket real quick and-" 

"No jackets." - her voice comes out so harsh, yet unlikely for her panicked, it almost makes you shiver. But it definitely catches you off guard. 

"What?" - you furrow your eyebrows in confusion - "Why?" 

"It's going to be warm , no need for that." - she begins to explain, moving her hands nervously around as she talks - "Besides you won't go anywhere else rather the car , the restaurant and then back in the car , right?" 

"You have a point" - you agree with her , retreating your right hand that was just about to pull out a long jacket from your wardrobe. You give the mirror one last look before grabbing your purse and heading out of your room with Eveline. Downstairs, where Miranda awaits you. 

You stroke the base of your throat, already feeling nervous. A tug on your arm makes you stop and you look down at the little girl who lowers her voice to a whispering tone as she opens her mouth to speak. 

"Mother is not very good...at dating." - a pause follows with a concerned expression - "Well at romance, in general. But please, make sure to treat her right." 

Eveline quickly gets assured you will. Because that's your only goal for tonight. To show Miranda that you can and will treat her right. 

***** 

You can feel a rapidly burning sensation, starting from the tip of your ears and ending somewhere in the middle of your face , lost in starting sparks of a wild fire. It's not embarrassment, or shyness. It's a different feeling, unique type of admiration that fills  your chest, making it tight and vulnerable, as the air in the room is simply not enough. It's Miranda. 

She stands like a living statue, only good for worshipping. Your knees are eager to kiss the floor in front of her in order to give your hands the freedom to show her your devotion, perhaps your mouth will help as well. The exited look in her pupils hints she might order you to do exactly that. 

"How thrilling..." - the sound of her voice has always been a pleasant melody for your ears - melancholic, sweet, calm. And relentlessly rough when it needs to be. Miranda takes a step closer to you, moving away from the main entrance of the mansion and the little blonde girl with honey coloured hair that give you a sharp look. 

She observes you closely. Your clothes, your bare hands , devoid of fancy jewelry unlike hers , your legs, your chest, face...her eyes linger everywhere , boldly narrowing their focus in the parts of you Miranda finds the most alluring. Perhaps if you weren't so busy trying to ignore her staring,  you would have seen her tongue wandering over her lips. 

"We match." - you feel a tug on the edge of the green vest, the woman cunningly covers her gesture with the convincing lie that she wishes to fix your top a little bit, though both of you ignore how her fingers slip underneath the fabric , tender fingertips brushing against your abdomen - "What a lovely coincidence." 

"You look stunning, Miranda." - not being sure in what exactly to answer her , you decide to play safe and go for a compliment. There's nothing wrong with that , but your mistake is that you whisper it to her for some reason. Maybe too afraid her daughter will judge you. 

"Your timidness is adorable." - you like the way her lips spill in a curved smile , for the first time you feel unbothered by her mocking voice, yet something inside your stomach shifts in a tingling manner when she also leans to whisper, as if her words are sinful- "You're adorable, darling." 

The urge to pin her to the nearest wall and kiss her until she's breathless might happen to be greater than your will to take her on a nice date , in hope to learn more about her. You only thank the two girls that stare at you, in slight disgust, which prevent you from doing that. Eveline clears her throat, caughting both yours and Miranda's attention. 

"Me and Eva were discussing..." - she starts, arms folded in front of her chest. 

"Not this again-". - the blonde woman's eyes roll backwards in annoyance. 

"We both think we're old enough to be left home alone." - she continues to explain, meanwhile Eva nods her head encouragingly towards her mother - "You can trust us for a few hours, it's going to be okay." 

"We'll be safe , mommy" - the younger sister joins in the conversation - "I promise." 

"I'm not leaving you alone." - Miranda is determined to end this conversation rather harsh and quickly than having to explain to her daughters how she's insanely afraid someone will harm them while she's away , despite their home being kilometres away from the nearest person alive - "Alcina and her daughters are already waiting for you anyway, you don't want to disappoint them now , do you sweethearts?" 

Eveline wrinkles her nose , a completely different reaction from her sisters , which smiles from ear to ear, clearly eager to return to the said place. 

"I love going to the castle!" - she makes her liking to the old looking structure very visible - "And Alcina is so nice. She even lets us drink from her wine." 

"She does what now?" - you always admire Miranda's protective nature that awaken inside her over her daughters , even when it's unnecessarily needed, like currently. However, you're not exactly in the mood for another lecture of hers , about how alcohol is bad for them , as they are still children. 

Your fingers tug on her elbow, forcing Miranda to shift her attention back to you. You look at her from beneath your eyelashes, silently begging her to not start a scene. She furrows her eyebrows. You dig your fingertips into the green fabric of her sleeve, making sure she can feel the pressure on her skin from underneath. And you purse your lips, as she gives you another warning glare. 

She sighs in in a relenting manner after a few moments of a silent battle between the two of you. And you grin , counting the way she walks past her daughters ,ignoring them, as a win. She's hard to convince, yet for you she melts easily.

"In the car. Now." - it is a command for both the girls and you, included. Noone dares to argue with the lady of the house and the three of you follow behind her like lost puppies through the double doors, making sure to sit patiently in the car while she locks the main entrance. 

.

.

.

The road trip to Alcina's castle seems a little bit shorter than you last remember it. It's either a different path you're taking or Miranda just drives more fiercely than you do. The fact that she's in a hurry to drop off her children and take you to the booked restaurant gives you hope that she's just as eager as you are for tonight's date. 

You enjoy the short conversation you manage to keep up with the girls from the backseat. They explain in details what they have planned for their current sleepover, turns out their ideas are quite interesting, you find yourself hyped to maybe spend more time within the strange castle and get to know the  residents. 

Miranda also tries to join in your little talks , however her attention is more focused on the road , as she's a careful driver. You can't help but notice she looks rather distressed, but you suppress the desire to extend a hand and hold  her leg, that has been shaking in anxiety almost the whole drive through. Is she nervous for the date or is she just mad about earlier? You find it difficult to decide. 

The trip to the restaurant, after she successfully delivered her children in Alcina's caring hands , is dead silent. In fact, so devoid of any sounds at all that you struggle to keep your eyes on the road in front of you. Instead you stare down at your lap , where you nervously play with your fingers , lost in thoughts of what exactly can you think of in order to  bring Miranda's mood back up. 

You don't even realise that it's been a few minutes now that the car hasn't moved , or that you're currently in an almost empty parking lot. The only thing  bringing you back to reality is the feeling of two eyes staring right at your soul and then a gentle hand on your shoulder. 

"Darling?" - you can't help the way your chest warms up when she calls for you, the hand on your shoulder brushes to the side , past your collerbone and ends up on your cheek, you lean into her touch - "Do you wish  to go back home?" 

It's only now that you acknowledge the fancy building in front of you, the shining title of the restaurant illuminating on the car's dark windows. You've already came this far , no need to go back to the lonely mansion. 

"No, I-" - you stop, because you're almost certain it's Miranda who is devoid of the desire to spend her evening in that place , judging by the expression on her face - "Do you?" 

She gifts you a smile, as she leans closer. Your lips are begging for hers , for her sweet lipstick on them , for a loving kiss. She doesn't do it. You feel disappointed when she just shoves you aside and you hear a click. Your car door opens. Miranda is tall enough to be able to stretch between her seat and your door with ease. Then she unbuckles  your seatbelt for you. 

You don't need any further invite, nor does she give it to you. You both walk silently into the restaurant, with the only difference that she takes the decision to take your hand in hers. And you make sure to tangle your fingers together. 

.

.

.

"You're quiet , Miranda." - you voice out , looking at the woman across from you. The table between you and her is large , too large for your personal taste. You truly wish to be closer to her. No distance, however, can hide her motionless expression. You would say she's bored , if you didn't know better - "What's the matter?" 

"I'm feeling fine." - she assures you, dragging the bottom of her wine glass on the table, gently shaking it - forcing the red liquid to stir. She hums. - "My mind seems to be wandering somewhere else, that's all." 

You put your fork down. And you frown. You desire all of her attention focused on you. You stare at her side of the table. Empty. With only a half full glass of wine. 

"Order something." - you suggest, letting your eyes to wander around the different tables, in search for the waiter. Poor young boy , so terrified of Miranda, just for getting her the wrong sort of wine. - "Perhaps the food will help you?" 

"I'm not hungry, darling." - your lips almost instantly part to argue, yet you hesitate. The woman is unreal. She's in luck you're into her. And you can't stay mad for long at someone you like. 

"Look , if you're not keen on the menu they have here." - you tap on the surface of the table, making her head tilt towards you. - "We can always go to another restaurant and-" 

"I love this restaurant." - she declares, blinking slowly. Your eye twitches in annoyance. 

"Then why are you not eating anything?" - you feel uncomfortable being the only one to have a nicely decorated plate in front of you. The food is delicious, you don't understand why Miranda decided to have nothing of it. - "Why are you so-" 

Cold. Distant. Afraid even. It's clear to everyone that Miranda is slightly distressed sitting in this restaurant, on the large table with carefully detailed chairs. With you. She can't even look you in the eyes , let alone try to form a conversation. 

"A believe I've made a mistake." - she lifts her head , dark blue eyes glaring at you fiercely from beneath her eyelashes. She bites her lower lip. The expression on her face is an unfamiliar portrait of vulnerability. 

"What kind of mistake?" - her hand moves upwards and she wraps it around the base of her throat. You've noticed that is something she does when she struggles to find her words. 

"I do fancy this restaurant, i do..." - she looks to the side. Your table happens to be in one of the distance corners, yet still next to a large set of windows. Individual, cozy, calm. A perfect place for Miranda's nature. - "But i have forgotten how much sadness it brings me." 

Sadness. Is Miranda even capable of dealing with such an emotion? She drops her head down in between her palms. Gods , she looks miserable. You resist the strong urge to just wrap your hands around her and drag her back in the protection of her home. 

"I often visited this place before." - a pause - "With her." - there's no need for names to be summoned. You both know exactly who is Miranda talking about. Though your chest tightness at the thought of the blonde woman using you as replacement, now that her Mia is gone. - "I'm sorry, I should have chosen another restaurant, darling , I just-" 

"It's okay , Miranda." - you both breathe in and out, in attempt to calm the unwanted flames of emotions that began to build in. Part of you understands why she decided to bring you here. It's a natural place for her to be. And perhaps she thought she can get over her part issues if she faces the problem directly. She couldn't. 

She apologises again. You follow the uncalculated movements of her fingers down to her left hand , where she begins to fidget with her ring , one of many. But you recognise it as the precious silver circle that hugs her finger all day , every day. And then you manage to connect the dots. How much Mia had to hurt her to make Miranda be inseparable with a simple piece of jewelry?

"It was from Mia, wasn't it?" - you boldly asks , tilting your head towards her gentle hand. She forms a fist with it. 

"It was for Mia." - Miranda can't help the voice crack that escapes her throat as she dares to speak the name of her past lover , her nails dig into the table. - "A wedding ring she never...happened to receive." 

Oh. So Miranda was planning to propose to Mia, but... something stopped her. You find yourself more than Intrigued , invested in why did their relationship fall apart.

"You can tell me , Miranda." - you let her know while  dragging your hand across the table, then tenderly locking your fingers with hers, in an attempt to bring her comfort. You appreciate the fact that she tries , even though she fails, to form a smile - "If you think it's going to make you feel better." 

You're ready to sacrifice the idea of having a nice dinner with her in order to get more information  about her past relationship and perhaps learn from Mia's mistakes. 

"I don't think I've ever loved someone like this my entire life." - she sniffs , making you shiver. Gods, is she about to cry? You don't think you can handle tears rolling down her  pretty cheeks right now.Miranda is gifted a tight squeeze of encouragement by your careful fingers. - "Ten years, fortified by intertwined lies." - she grabs her forehead with her free hand , sighing slowly - "Ten years..."  

"What happened exactly?" - you lower you face down, hoping you take a better angle in order to see her expression. It is a mistake, as you spot a single tear ready to drop from the hill of her nose. Your jaw clenches. 

"She was one of my old colleagues, never to actually caught my interest...until we got a commun project" - despite her almost whispering voice, you're still able to hear and understand her completely. You wait in silent sympathy when she struggles to find her exact words. - "Among our other coworkers she sparked like a star , filled with joy from the fact that she was the only one to not feel... fear towards me. With her unique persona , weird yet thrilling interests and great passion for her work,  she... managed to bewitch me." - Miranda takes a deep breath in , then turns to you, her eyes slightly puffed - "She was perfect." 

Hope can be dangerous. Yet you cling to it. Mia was perfect. Miranda talks about her in past tense, you find yourself wishing she doesn't still perceive her as the person she once loved. It's difficult for you to understand how can someone leave the blonde woman in front of you. 

"Naturally, i allowed our relationship to expand. I... yearned to spend every possible moment with her. I even bought her this ring because-". - another voice crack, tears urging in the corners of her eyes while she blinks fast to prevent them. Tight squeeze on your hand. A pitiful look sent in your direction - "I wanted to call her mine. My wife." - she puts a palm over her trembling lips as she looks to the side , her voice barely a whisper - "That was before i found out she was already married." 

That was it. The thing that ruined their relationship. A man. Your thumb slowly strokes the path of her knuckles, showing her support while she processes to explain how humiliated she felt, only having the power to observe in awkward silence , while Mia's said husband showed up to their work place the day Miranda was planning to propose to her. Although she ran away from there , from them , from her, cutting any contact with her past lover , she was never able to throw that bloody silver line of metal away. It stayed in her life like a dark spirit following closely after her every step. 

"A few weeks later she contacted me. Asking to meet up." - Miranda's fingers clench around the green fabric of her dress , right above her heart, and she pulls, tilting her neck to a side, as if she finds it difficult to breathe. But you know that feeling well , her chest burns from sadness. You swallow hard , eyes still fixed onto her. - "I stayed...even after she made it clear she just wanted me  to satisfy the needs her husband couldn't." 

"She sees you as a toy, Miranda." - the words  bites her skin , both of you know your statement is perhaps the only truth feeling Mia has towards the tall woman. 

"How can i just leave the person I've loved for years?" - the tone of her voice is very different than usual, it sounds weak - "All this time and attention I've put into our relationship would seem-" 

"Pointless." - you cut her off , knowing exactly what she's trying to explain to you. The same flame has burned you too. - "Feels so unfair,  doesn't it? You give your best to save that special bound while opposite of you - there's a person that simply doesn't care." 

"Philip wasn't the best partner neither, was he?" - you force a smile when the waiter boy comes back to your table, you have to untangle your fingers from Miranda - though she doesn't seem very happy about it. Yet she surprises you by silently opening the menu and pointing to a chocolate piece of cake in the desserts dedicated pages of it. The man nods nervously and finds himself in rush to get away from your table. 

"Well he was...for a while , at least." - time flies fast , you can't remember the last time you two were nice to eachother in person. Have you even been on a decent date for the past few months? 

"How so?" - Miranda waves off the waiter the moment he places a small plate in front of her , the chocolate piece of cake looks almost identical to the picture of it on the menu. 

"As childhood friends we were always close, we rarely argued and we were just happy to be together." - you begin to explain as you observe Miranda, pleased she's finally eating something, even if she just decides to skip to the dessert. You can take a wild guess where did Eva get her sweet tooth from. - "Our other friends mocked us about still not dating eachother  in our twenties. So we decided to just give it a try. It worked out." - before you know it, she's finished with the cake.- "A few years into our relationship i discovered that he cheated on me , in the beginning, when he thought it wasn't going to last. Even though it was so long ago i felt absolutely disgusted with him.I grew colder, so did he. And our shared love slowly...died." 

Of course there are many other reasons as for why you decided you're finally done with Philip. However, you don't feel like digging into unwanted past memories right now.

"You managed to move from him quickly." - she voices out, eyes widening when you nod to her , her hand searches for your again, eagerly. - "How?" 

Miranda's inner self if desperate to know how to stop that aching feeling in her heart. Your lips curl up in a dream. 

"I believe i have found someone better." - her eyebrows twitch as you lean closer to her , still the table is a large obstacle, but you can safely whisper and know she will hear you - "Much better." 

Miranda laughs. You've never noticed that she has dimples , the tiny lines show up when her lips form a smile. Being this close to her has it's privileges. 

For a moment you allow yourself to be taken by her beauty. Your lips wouldn't mind being glued to hers for eternity , even when your palms give up, grey and bloody, from holding her too tightly, too firm. Your eyes will continue to chase the charming flame in her pupils, living as a candle that even the wildest of winds cannot blow away. 

"Darling?" - she calls out for you. 

"Hm?" - you mutter, busy biting the inside of your cheek. 

"I want to go home." - and you desire to fulfill her every need.

You are quick to call the waiter back to your table. And just like that the pill is paid and you find yourself in Miranda's car again, traveling back to the mansion. 

***** 

Your hand stays on the place it feared to touch before, during your whole path back home. Even through the fabric of Miranda's dress , your digits can still get a good example of how soft and nicely shaped for holding her thighs are. Especially your thumb , which dares to linger beneath the cloth , where the high slit in her loosen skirt starts. 

The trip is silent, however, both of you enjoy the fact that you don't need to share words in order to be pleased with eachother's company. Miranda drives carefully, but eagerly to go back to the mansion. A sigh of relief fills your chest when the tall , dark shadow of the building towers over the car. 

A low note of dying violin rings through the air as the grand entrance opens up. One of two doors is tenderly open for you to walk past it and into the mansion. When you do , another sound echoes behind you. A lock. Then you sense a hand on your shoulder. 

"I am...certainly thankful for tonight" - the touch disappears only for a moment, before it can appear again, this time at the back of your neck , slowly tugging on loosen stands of hair , forcing your head to tilt upwards. 

"I know it wasn't the date you expected, Miranda." - the unsureness in her voice is more than visible for you, she's not entirely pleased, yet she cannot say it was the worst experience of her life , nor can you. - "But I-...I enjoyed it. I enjoyed spending my time with you." - the smile you give her while searching to grab her hands in your is genuine.- "And I want you to know that I'd be happily by your side if your need me, when you wish to...calm down your thoughts...and feels." 

Though the usage of the perfect words for the situation doesn't come as easily, you're safe to say you mean each one of them. The merest thing you can propose to her is to be emotionally available. A trait Mia clearly doesn't possess. 

Your head bumps into something soft, tender and extremely alluring, which a sweet smell of... perfume, it's her perfume. You're able to so easily sense it , simply because your nose is currently rubbing against the base of her neck , where the smell is strong and intoxicating. Miranda has pulled you in a tight embrace, locking your face in her chest. She doesn't seem very determined to let go. Even after she moves and you find yourself pressed against the wall behind you. 

"How i wish to kiss you, darling..." - she whispers, her breath hot against your ear. It makes you tingle. 

"Do it." - your voice comes out too harsh, it can be almost  perceived as a command. 

"Not here , though" - she taps a few times on your lips with a slender fingers, robbing you from the chance to be kissed breathlessly. You only understand what she means by that when her lips tenderly connect with the skin of your neck. Meanwhile you allow her hands to run up and down your sides. - "Pretty darling... please don't let me be disappointed." 

"W-what?" - you barely murmur, feeling your knees giving up, influenced by the impact she forces on you. 

"I've made my decision long ago..." - about what? You wish to ask, but your words get lost in your throat when her fingers slide under your vest , just like earlier this night, with the only difference that the mansion is now devoid of children and she can add eager pressure to her touch. - "Prove to me that it wasn't foolish." 

A lower button of your vest flies open, giving Miranda more access to your abdomen, where her cold palms decide to wander freely. She sets a good amount of goosebumps runnings beneath your skin. Your lips slightly part , as you find it difficult to breathe, when the continuous slow kisses on your neck transform into careless bites. Her teeth have a familiar sharpness to them , when they dig relentlessly into your skin. 

"Miranda..." - you groan out her name, the sound is so casual at this point, it comes out as a habit. For your suprise she retreats to observe your face for a moment. 

"Forgive me, darling." - you nod your head , feeling the tender way her thumb rubs against the fresh bite mark on your neck. It's only when she lowers her head back down and you shiver at the coldness and wetness of her tongue also running over that specific place , when your mind clears up and you try to reason her, though your sentence comes out as a weak whimper. - "I tend to bite." 

Miranda tends not to bite , but to claim. To mark what she feels as hers. You're not surprised, because that is simply her nature. It's not the fact  she wants to show the world that she fancies you that bothers your throbbing head. It's the leg that firmly goes between your thighs as she continues to paint your neck in beautiful red marks. 

"We shouldn't..." - your hands seem too weak to push her away. You fear the daring decision to loose them lower , to let them explore her body the same way hers are wandering over your stomach. 

"Really?" - she mocks, clearly knowing about the inner battle you're going through right now, she takes a hold of these unsure hands and places them firmly around her waist, as she leans to whisper just below your ear. You're almost certain she can feel how wild your pulse is going. - "Don't you want to take that tight dress off me , darling?" 

"That's not what you want, Miranda." - not after tonight, it feels wrong. She doesn't seem convinced with your answer. 

"I want you." - she tugs your hair again, forcing your head up so she can roughly claim your lips in a good angle. You can't help but moan into the kiss when you recognise the words she uses. Your words , she only repeats them. - "Please don't make me say how badly." 

"Where?" - you pant out , looking around only to realise you're still pretty much next to the entrance. 

"My bedroom, darling?" - she proposes, trying to put your now fully unbuttoned vest back in it's original form. You feel the air around you shifting as she takes a step backwards, suddenly you can breathe normally again. - "it's the closest." 

You allow her to drag you to the said room. It definitely takes you a while , since she just cannot depart from your lips for too long. You did find yourself pressed against other walls or furnitures a few more times before reaching her bedroom, as you had to beg her to wait for a bit. Her eagerness is hard to tame. 

Finally, after what felt like hours of burning torture, she reaches her door and before you know it - she pushes you down on her soft mattress. You can barely take your time to sit straight and position yourself before she crawls on top of you, palms occupying your flushed cheeks while her lips crash against yours. The groan she lets out vibrates through the kiss , influencing you to wrap your hands around her. 

Her lower body shifts around until she positions herself right on top of one of your thighs. Then she slowly rocks her hips forward, another weak groan urges to escape her throat. It makes you so unsure in how to react that you decide to do the easiest thing - which is to push her , or at least try, off yourself. She's definitely not satisfied with your decision. 

"Kiss me." - she whispers, forcing your lips on hers. - "Touch me." - your hands are guided back around her waist, they even dare to go lower. - "Undress me." - the high slit in her dress gives your fingers perfect access to her heated skin below the green fabric, at this point half of the dress is raised and crumpled just above her hips, she's determined to drag your hands even higher, as they are currently running up to her breasts. - "Have all of me." - her outfit is already forgotten story, thrown lazily on the floor, along with her bra that your thumb just so happened to hook up together with her dress. - "Do everything else but stop, darling, i beg you." 

To say you're out of words is lame. And definitely not enough. Because your throat is completely dry. And you feel awful, having no idea what to do with practically naked Miranda, placed so lovely on your lap. 

"I don't know how-...what to do." - you finally confess, trying to ignore the constant embarrassment burning the tips of your ears. She gets a hold of your face again, eyes widened,  as she stares at you in surprise. And concern. 

"Is this your first time?" - her eyebrows furrow , yet you can't help but lean into her touch as she tenderly caresses your cheek with the back of her palm. Her knuckles feel rocky against your skin , but in a good way. In a way you love. 

"With a woman. Yes." - it's one thing to imagine absolutely wrecking Miranda and completely different thing to have her sitting on top of you, waiting for satisfaction, that you currently can't give. As you're unfamiliar with how exactly to bring pleasure to women, with having experience only with men. 

Miranda summons a large smirk on her lips. It suits her. 

"That's okay, darling." - she uses that sweet tone of her voice, which you've heard when she tries to comfort her children. So sweet, you can almost bet you'd taste honey if you dared to kiss her right now. What she does makes your breath hitch. Miranda grabs one of your wrists in an unbreakable cage of thin fingers, then guides it up to her mouth. She presses your digits to her lips , her eyes staying fixed on you and your heavy panting chest, then she slowly parts them, allowing your fingers to enter. - "I'll teach you." 

Her mouth feels different now that is not your tongue inside but rather your fingers, which can feel everything in much greater detail. Her lips press around near your knuckles, her sharp teeth adding a little friction to the overall experience. Saliva spills around your digits, nearly the same time as when her tongue decides to join and travel along the length of your fingers. Miranda closes her eyes, trying to concentrate and make sure to have your fingers completely soaked before you can pull them out. 

Good thing she decides to pull your hand away only after a few seconds, because you are absolutely sure your skin was starting to melt inside her mouth. Your digits come out with a wet popping sound , a thin line of saliva still connecting them to Miranda's lips , which she eliminates by kissing your fingertips. She observes her work with a smile , clearly pleased. Then her eyes fix on yours. 

"Lower, darling." - you blink, successfully awaking from the short trance that made your mind foggy. Another hard blink and you feel your nails scratching the edges of her underwear. She tugs your wrist down, until your hand goes directly beneath the last piece of clothing she's wearing, if you don't count her heels. Then her head finds a cozy, comfortable nest in the crook of your neck. And she sighs.- "I trust you know what to do from here , given your...past experience." 

Miranda finds a way to mock you even in a situation like this. It's absolutely hilarious for her to remind you of the night she caught you - hand in your jean , on her couch. Her little smirk cannot be missed. But she's good at hinting you she wants the same thing you did under her guidance to yourself now to transfer to her. So you have no choice but to obey. 

"You're so soft..." - you murmur somewhere close to her ear , fingers now beginning to explore her slick folds, the fabric of her underwear annoying the back of your palm so you gently pull it away with your oher hand , exposing her whole. 

"I know." - she says is proudly, scratching her teeth to your already bitten over and over again skin. 

"So wet..." - you continue to whisper, enjoying the way her hips parts so she can give you more access. You drive your digits upwards, the soft pads of your fingertips finding her clit, slowly rubbing circles right above it, not giving enough friction to the needy bundle of nerves. You take pride in your teasing when she growls in your neck. 

"I am..." - she answers weakly for you, in agreement. The familiar warmth of her tongue makes sure to present itself to your skin yet again. 

"Gods Miranda, you're dripping." - your middle and ring finger easily slide inside of her , due to how aroused she is. When your knuckles hit her slit you stop, allowing her to adapt to the feeling of your digits deep inside of her. Meanwhile your thumb presses to her clit , helping with her tightness. 

"Please..." - your nose wrinkles when her teeth decide to try their best to pierce your skin. Yet you stay still in surprise, not expecting to hear her beg so soon, or in general. You have more important goals than to wonder what role exactly she likes to play in the bedroom, however. So you just decided to give her what she desires. 

The two fingers inside of her gentle work upwards, testing the waters. When she doesn't show much of a reaction you pull them almost completely out , only to drive them back , and repeat. That seems to have a good effect on Miranda as her biting becomes more and more painful. Even if she decides to bite your whole neck , it wouldn't be enough to silence the moans urging from her throat. You feel addicted to these sounds. 

"Fuck- you're going to leave marks." - wounds even, with all that pressure she allows her teeth to give you. Your fingers are now moving with fair speed and enough pressure to make her hips buckle. The moment her mouth leaves your neck and she presses her forehead to your collarbone, the room fills with breathless moans , which she just can't seem to control. Is that why she bites so hard? 

People tend to avoid the fire that burns them. That doesn't work for you, her teeth might be painful, but your skin feels lonely without them. A weak whine escapes her lips as your fingers begin to move rapidly in and out of her , with little care for gentleness, while the heel of your palm presses firmly against her aching clit. It makes her hiss. Miranda lifts up her head to look at you with a sorrowful expression. 

"I never told you to stop." - she quickly gets what you mean, your fingers only care  to stop their merciless pounding when her mouth  finds its place back at the side of your neck. This time you groan out in pain , as her teeth break any skin barrier and both of you feel, while Miranda even tastes , the thick crimson blood that runs down from the bite mark, possibly ruining a part of your vest. She licks everything clean within seconds. Her tender kisses afterwards happen to be a good apology. 

Even though you take pride in making her whimper in the crook of your neck , your fingers don't exactly seem to do the job for her. Part of you stays disappointed when Miranda position herself in a way that makes it easy to rock her hips , as she begins to ride your fingers. Her back arches, forcing her chest to shove in your face. If your hands weren't so busy in holding her waist in support, they would definitely love to play with her breasts. 

She's close , you can feel the way her inner wall clench tighter and tighter around your fingers with every trust , with every desperate swing of her hips. She places her hands on your knees, nearly slipping and falling backwards as her now blood covered lips finally depart from your skin. Her eyes stay interested in the way your digits work her up , as she likes to not only watch others get pleasured , even when her orgasm hits her, hard. 

She's a whimpering, shaking, perfect  mess. You don't think you've seen someone that beautiful. 

The movements of her hips slowly die as she rides out the electric feeling that runs through her whole body. She squirms , knees glued together, preventing you from doing too much while she's still sensitive. She lets you know she's alright by shoving her face back in your neck , arms folded around it. You wait for her chest to stop rapidly going up and down before retrieving your hand from between her legs. 

Your fingers are damped with her , wetness dripping even down to your wrist. You lift them up, closer for you to observe. Miranda chuckles softly next to you, her head now resting on your shoulder. She parts her lips , expecting you want to shove your digits back into her mouth, but it's not hers that they end up in. Your lips close around your fingers before she can protest, or say anything at all.

At this moment you partly understand why Mia is still so obsessed with Miranda. The taste of that woman almost forces you to flip her over and spend the whole night buried between her thighs. However, you know she will want more than that. A tug on your vest confirms it.

"Undress for me." - she places a kiss on your temple, then the bed shift as her weight disappears from it. She removes her heels and underwear, standing now completely naked in front of you. Perhaps you've spent quite some time staring at her flawless body , because she clears her throat, catching your attention again. 

She doesn't need to tell you twice. The vest and pants are history already. And with your own underwear gone within seconds - you match her nakedness completely. Her eyes linger from your head all the way down to your feet. And she licks her lips. Gods. 

"Left drawer, open it." - she points to one of the two , not so large bedside tables, not even bothering to look at that direction, as her attention is stored specially and only for you at the moment. You stretch out to the drawer, swiftly pulling on the handle. It's empty. You turn to give her a confused look. She laughs, walking past the bed and next to the bedside table, her fingers press on the bottom and just like that , it shifts down - "Fake bottom, darling. Remember that" 

Inside the nearly exposed, secret department Miranda has a small collection of sex toys. Big part of you isn't surprised, not even the slightest. Various and colourful, each one of the toys looks designed to give the maximum amount of pleasure. Her fingers choose a black coloured silicone dildo, she also picks up a leather harness and works fast to connect them together in a strap-on. Then she proudly shows it to you. You swallow hard. 

"That's a bit..." - large, you're used to different sizes, there's no way that's going inside of you. Miranda gives the toy a confused look. 

"It's the most i can take." - she throws the fancy looking belt on the bed next to you. You sigh when she takes back her place in your lap. Now that you're both naked , her skin feels even softer against you. 

"Oh, you're going to be the one taking it?" - for some reason you thought it would be you. The other way around is also welcome, you'll definitely need more assistance with the straps, however. 

"I need you to forget any experience you've had with men , darling." - you love it when she cups your cheeks and looks down at you, those blue eyes can calm you with ease everytime you're nervous  , she places a kiss on your forehead. - "Because as i woman i demand more , much more." - you accept the lips that press to yours instantly, and the tongue that comes with them. - "Though I'm not that hard to please, once you learn how to work me out." 

She takes a hold of the belt next to you. When she commands you to stand so she can put it around your hips, however, you stop her. Your fingers points to her left hand, eyes locked on the silver ring that still sits awfully around one of her slender digits. 

"Take that off." - you frown, taking a step back when she tries to get closer to you. - "I don't what you touching me while wearing that ring." 

Another's woman wedding ring. 

"What ring?" - the sound of metal hitting the floor echoes through the air before you can acknowledge Miranda's hands on your shoulders. Then you just allow yourself to be lost in the sensation of her lips as you lick the many different layers of lipstick, wine and blood off them. 

Miranda helps you out with the leather harness , making sure the straps are not too tight for you , while in the meantime enough to hold the weight of the toy. When she's done , she grabs your chin in her soft palm , her thumb running along your bottom lip before she leans down to tug on it with her teeth. Then to kiss you - the two things she's into , pain and pleasure. 

"You like it when I'm under you , darling?" - though her tone hints she's asking this as a question, it stands out more like a statement. As if she's been in your head , through all the fantasies you've had about her. Below you. 

"I do." - in fact, you loved  it. Miranda works swiftly to change your position. It's almost like you're chasing her through the sheets. She positions herself somewhere in the middle of the large bed, her hand tugging you by the chin, forcing your lips on hers yet again. She's so very keen on kissing. 

"Then take me." - a command, a demand, a need. You can feel her lips curling up in a smile when your hands waste no time in running down her sides. Making her grin even wider when you squeeze her soft hips. 

The tip of the toy rubs against her slick folds once you crawl on top of her , she holds you close , her face yet again in the crook of your neck. Her nails, which she normally keeps short, now feel sharp against your skin as she drags them down your back. You enter her unsurely, strictly following her guiding commands, enjoying the way her breath hitches with every inch she takes. When the toy completely disappears inside of her, your movements stop, and you wait, letting her adapt to the feeling. 

Her arms unfold from behind your neck when you lift your torso up, straightening your back and placing your hands on her waist. You run your palms on the surface of her heated skin, taking a liking in how she shivers under your fingertips. You don't even realise when you manage to roll your hips, only acknowledging your actions when she whines below you. The sound echoing through your head, awaking roots of concern. 

"Miranda?" - you nervously call out of her, afraid she's in pain. The last thing you wish to do is hurt her. 

"Move, darling." - she voices out, her hand practically shaking as she moves it past her stomach, down to where your lower bodies connect, but instead of helping with something there she wraps it around your hip, eager to pull you closer. - "In and out - baby, please." 

You feel like it's her own desperation that moves your hips backwards, until half the length of the toy is out only to slowly disappear back inside of her. She crosses her ankles behind your back, locking you in the strong cage of her legs, to make sure you won't run away. You bottom out and she moans loudly, now that she has nothing to bite into. You enjoy the resistance of her inner walls as you drag the toy back out, with each slow trust she looses her tightness, while her volume increases. 

Your thumb finds her clit and fiercely drags the hood of it upwards, exposing the pink bundle of nerves to your greedy eyes. A few quick taps land on it, sending electric shivers through her stomach. She gets even more aroused when you begin to lay lazy circle on her clit, almost feeling it throb under the weight of your fingerprint. She throws her head backwards, her tight neck muscles catch your eyes as she swallows hard. 

"Good girl. That's- ..mm, darling more." - your cheeks burn at her praise , meanwhile your heart threatens to jump out of your chest, triggered by her arching back and messy sentences. She holds the black sheets in tight fists from both her sides as she stares at you from beneath her eyelashes. - "You can start m-moving faster... now." 

Your hips are more than ready to obey her. They change their tempo to a more rapid one , roughly stretching her out as you pick a pace that makes both of you groan in pleasure. You move her right leg up , her ankle on your shoulder, while her thigh hits her stomach and you rock the toy deep inside of her. The sound she lets out is heavenly. 

You like how she struggles to keep her eyes from rolling at the back of her head. While that pretty blue colour is one of your favourite things in this mansion, you can't help but feel a shiver running down your spine as you look at it now. Then your head begins to spin. 

Cold. It's so cold. As your feet are barely touching the ground because you're simply running too fast. From what? From who? Fear merges into anger the moment you see the dead deer in front of you. 

Miranda moans uncontrollably when you begin to pound relentlessly in and out of her. Your fingers were a child's play for her , but the thickness of the toy combined with your fast moving hips makes it impossible for her to think straight. 

Death has always been beautiful. But never gentle. Why does she hates you? You're not a bad person, it was an incident. The deer came out of nowhere. You're sorry for it but...

You lean closer , your head now resting in between Miranda's breasts, her teeth and nails are happy they finally have something to play with, something to bite and scratch. You don't acknowledge all the angry, left marks she leaves on your skin. 

Death is angry. Or confused. Or maybe too pleased. Death spends a lot of her time alone. Mother of many and daughter of none. She doesn't know how to show affection. She doesn't understand why you are running away from her , the woods are not friendly. 

Miranda calls out your name , voice desperate. You ignore her , head too foggy to pay her any attention right now. 

Death surprises you, thinking you would prefer seeing her instead of one mere corpse of a deer. At the moment you hate death, so you try to run again. Death acknowledges pain as a punishment. 

"Darling...?" - she weakly calls for you. You clench to her, never stopping the rough movements of your hips, at this point her back is more than simply arched. It hurts her, you're hurting her. 

Death is obsessed with you. Death hurts you because she has forgotten how love works. Her need to kiss you travels through her arm and instead of your lips - it lands higher, right into your nose. 

"Little deer, please..." - blood. Red staining blood drips from your nose , combined with awful pulsating pain - as if it's broken. The crimson colour drips onto Miranda's skin, it covers her chest, her neck , her stomach... You're both unbothered by that. Something is triggering you much more. 

"Miranda?" - your voice is full of concern ,as you finally answer her , lower body now completely still. Your palms cup her cheeks. Your eyes follow the colourless droplets that roll down from her eyes. Now those are tears you wouldn't mind licking off her face. 

"I apologise if I've done something to offend you.." - she murmurs, trying to keep eye contact with you. Her breath hitches when your hips slowly restart their rocking again, she tries to ignore the burning feeling inside her stomach- "But if you're mad at me ...oh, darling please-" 

"What are you talking about?" - you whisper out , placing loving kisses around her collerbone and the tender skin of her breasts - "I'm not mad at you, Miranda." 

"Then be more careful with me." - her nails drag themselves up your back before she decides to shove them in your hair , for the first time tonight she hesitates to claim your lips. - "Can't you see I'm shaking?" 

You wouldn't say exactly shaking,  though her thighs are definitely twitching with every new trust of the toy. You kiss her forehead, apologising over and over again. Not sure if you should continue or just stop. Miranda is the one ot take that decision. 

"Pull out." - she orders - "This position is not working out for you." 

Miranda works quick to flip herself on her stomach. She gives you a playful smile as she turns to look at you. But you stay completely still and confused. How are you supposed to fuck her now. Is she mad at you? You wipe the blood from your nose. Why is the world still spinning? Your hands, they search for her, your lips eager for hers , but Miranda seems like millions of kilometres away right now. 

"My hips, darling." - there she is , always ready to pull you out of your own mind. With her solutions for everything. Your fingers are scared when they tug on her waist, on the apex of her thighs. However, as her lower body follows your hand's demands and her ass forms a perfect circle you forget your hesitation. You break into her again, melting her back and forcing her face to press into the pillows. 

Her golden hair rolls down and around her shoulders, revealing her bare back to your eyes and the mystery that comes with it. You run your hand through the weird, black and curved looking lines on her skin. They even have texture. Strange. 

"Are those tattoos?" - you question, your other hand gently holding her waist as you continue to pound into her with a decent pace , which you make sure she enjoys. 

"No...yes...please don't touch.." - just as you are about to retreat your hand she grabs it and instead guides it to her hair, where she makes sure your fingers get a hold of honey coloured strands. It's funny how you spent quite some time trying your best to be gentle while bleaching her hair a few days ago and now both of you don't care if you leave her bald , with all that tugging. 

Miranda's body follows your desire to be lifted up. The pressure while you pull her by the hair upwards is painful but she handles it. Once her back presses against your chest and your force her legs open with your knees, she again lets out those filthy moans that blurb out of her mouth, with the new angle that manages to hit a very good spot inside of her.

Her head bends backwards, positioning itself on your shoulder. You wrap a hand at the base of her throat, feeling the vibration of every sound that eagerly travels through there, while your other arm stays firmly holding her stomach, you can almost feel where the tip of the toy is hitting inside of her as your forearm is exactly there. She tries not to break eye contact with you, though the nice blue colour is quickly replaced with snowy white as her eyes roll backwards. 

"So close..." - she murmurs, more to herself than to you, a few silent begs slipping past her lips while she guides the hand that holds her throat down, where she presses your fingers against her throbbing clit. A few strokes there is everything that she needs for her second orgasm to completely overtake her. This time she's silent, her mouth is opened but not a single sound comes out. You begin to fear she might have stopped breathing. But then she cries out and you smile , placing kisses against her shoulder. 

Miranda's body hits the mattress with a tud. And you let her lay down along her soft pillow, still and emotionless , limps twitching while she tries to came back to earth. And  you stay patiently inside of her , unsure if you should pull out or not. After a minute or two , she weakly groans , a finger taps on your hip. 

"Off.." - she whispers, tugging on the strap - "Take it off."  

You obey instantly. Happy to remove the fancy belt from around your hips. You're surprised with now wet exactly you've gotten. Miranda surely works her magic on you. Speaking of the woman she raises up like a champion and give you a vicious smile. The look in her eyes is clear - first of all she's not finished and second of all she's eager for more kisses. 

"Such a bad girl you are." - she easily consumes what is hers , your lips are quivering below hers , her handy cupping your breasts - "Making me loose control like that." 

"Miranda..." 

"Mira." - she corrects you, easily shifting positions so now you're the one pressed to the mattress - "Just Mira is fine. Easier to moan." 

Her fingers find joy in pinching and squeezing your nipples. She's sat on your stomach, making it hard for you to do anything else rather than just arch your back, which eventually gives her more access to your chest, and moan out her name. 

"How do you like it?" - she asks , moving backwards to pay attention to the heat between your legs, her fingers easily gather the wetness that drips from your lower lips. - "Anything you don't want me to do? Anything you absolutely crave  me to do?" 

"Just you." - you hiss out when she parts your legs, now having more access to your sensitive areas, which she almost instantly begins to tease. 

"All of me , sweet girl?" - she laughs, flicking your clit between her fingers, while rubbing comfortable circles on your inner thighs. - "Are you sure you can handle that?" 

"Yes , please...just-" - you cut yourself off , eyes widening when she decides to shove two of her fingers inside of you with little to no warning. They begin to plumb in and out of you, while she continues to torture your clit, all those sensitive nerves locked between her two hands. When she adds a third digit you can't help but whimper, feeling a hard to handle pressure building up inside your stomach. Her fingers are not thick, but gods are they long. Philip could never reach the places the tips of her fingertips are able to explore. - "It hurts, Mira." 

"It tickles." - she corrects you, almost instantly forcing you to believe her statement. A grin appears on her still stained in blood lips the moment she manages to hit that rougher type of skin inside of you, right after she curls up her digits. - "Feel that , darling." - she makes sure to rub that specific place with enough force to make you whimper. - "That's the place you couldn't quite reach when your fingers were inside of me." - is this why she practically rode you to her orgasm? - "Feels good doesn't it? I expect you to remember it for next time."

Next time...?  

Miranda lowers her head down. Her tongue replaces the finger on your clit and she begins to lick, making your eyes disappear in the back of your head.  Though that feeling is too short for you to truly enjoy it. Once you're able to see again, you glare down at her and the way she open her mouth to let a large drop of saliva drip from the tip of her tongue. 

"Don't you think I'm wet enough?" - you snap at her , feeling exactly how the tips of her fingers are starting fires inside your lower belly. You can't laste long with such a woman between your legs. 

"The messier you are , darling, the more you can take" - she proves that by spreading her saliva down to your slit where the three of her fingers easily gather it and when she shoves them back in , they do feel easier to handle. She's smiling because she knows she's right. - "And i plan to make a big mess out of you." 

Miranda proves herself yet again by making you finish under the next two minutes. With the help of her wicked tongue that decides to join for a second time , knowing exactly how to flick around your clit. Your hips buckle against her face , threatening to suffocate her , your fingers pulling roughly on her hair. All she does is moan into you , sending electric shivers up your veins that forces your head to tilt backwards and just like that Miranda makes you see stars again. 

"I've been thinking about something you said some time ago, it won't leave my head , little deer." - you find yourself almost begging for her fingers once they pull out of you. You don't even try to understand the following sentence that she speak out loud. - "Care to say that you still hate me?" 

If it will bring her mouth back to your aching core. 

"I hate you." - you hiss out , feeling her body crawling on top of you, she lifts one of your legs around her waist as she positions herself right on top of you. Wetness merging with wetness, your still sensitive clit kissing hers. - "I hate you so damn much." 

"So do I , darling." - one last sentence before she begins to rock her hips against you and you allow yourself to be lost into her touch completely. 

In really however, none of you are talking about hatred. 

.

.

.

Despite the fact that both of you were sweaty and breathless after literal hours of mindless fucking, as you had to beg Miranda to let you rest, you willing decided to cuddle, skin to skin , afraid the other might disappear if she wasn't hold properly. 

That's why you aren't surprised when you open your eyes , complete darkness surrounding you, and the first thing you feel is soft hair spread all over your face. Your hands are tightly wrapped around her waist, your legs still tangled together from earlier. You place a tender kiss to the nape of the woman sleeping in your arms. You resist the urge to shove your face in the middle of her shoulder blades and just go back to sleep. 

Unfortunately for you, the dryness in your throat is so bad you might start coughing if you don't drink a cup of water , or a few, to calm the storm down. 

You bare your teeth, hating how loud the mattress shifts when you try to move away from her. You stop in the middle of it , looking back at Miranda to make sure she's still asleep. Good , she is. Your feet make contact with the floor and you slowly, as to not bump into something and hurt yourself, begin to walk to the door. Or at least where you think the door is. 

A weak yelp urges past your lips the moment a hand raises from the darkness around the bed and locks its fingers around your wrist. You immediately jump to Miranda, who murmurs something quietly in her half-sleeping state. 

"Don't leave." - the sleepiest, cutest sounding warning ever. You can also picture her with pursed lips , finding yourself wishing you can somehow see her face in the dark hour. 

"Wasn't planning too, i just-" 

"Don't leave." - now she sounds desperate, unhappy even. She tugs on your wrist, forcing you to take a step closer to the bed. From here you can see how she sits up and blinks a few times. - "Stay with me , cuddle me." 

You're unsure how her arms perfectly wrap behind your neck. But you allow her to bring you closer. 

"I'm just going to get us water , Mira, it's okay." - you rub your nose along her skin, in attempt to calm her down and possibly convince her to literally let you go for two minutes. She's been with you the whole evening , surely you can depart without much of a problem. Not for Miranda. 

"She never stayed." - her unexpected sentence cuts you like a sharp blade. - "She knew how to tire me out so i couldn't move , let alone argue when she decided to leave right after we were finished." 

Your hatred towards Mia grows with everything Miranda reveals about her. You tenderly caresse the side of her face , your lips in a search for her - the first time they try, they hits her chin instead, but then she helps you out and you share a much needed kiss. 

"I'll just get us some water, okay?" - as you press your forehead into hers you realise you're not asking her to let you go down to the kitchen, but to trust you blindly that you won't leave like Mia did. 

"My robe should be somewhere around" - she spins your body in the direction she's thinking of exactly - "take it , it gets chilly at night." 

You're only now realising you're still naked. So is Miranda. Both of you don't seem to mind it. Yet you somehow get to the said night robe , still guided by Miranda. Then you continue down to the kitchen. 

When you return you note Miranda is already long lost in dream. So you finish your cup in one big sip , while you place her still full one on the bedside table on the right side. Then you slowly make your way back behind her , eager to snuggle next to her soft skin again. 

Your lips gift her with one last kiss , carefully placed on the shoulder, before you allow the cold night and lonely darkness to take you to distant lands of dreams. 

While you hold your favorite nightmare in tight embrace. 

What gave you the idea to write Playing Dangerous?

Honestly after going through almost every Mother Miranda fanfic - I still wanted more. And when i couldn't find one that was to my liking, i just decided to try and make my own!

The idea came spontaneously, i just had a vision about a single scene and then i just added everything else around it! I wanted it to have a bit more of a modern setting, plus the kids cuz i love fluff and it's definitely interesting to write Miranda interacting with them.

Some ideas were rejected, others were added and finally the story was shaped! I'm having so much fun writing it, and there's a lot more to happen, soo expect it! <33

Playing dangerous - Mother Miranda/reader Warning for explicit content.

Chapter 11: Exes

Summary:

Mia and Philip biting the curb in 4k.

Waking in Miranda's bed is one thing. Waking in Miranda's bed , with Miranda herself in it , is something completely different. 

The bed creaks slightly, a soft sound made by the uneven shifting of weight on the mattress. The thin, barely felt blanket disappears from your body, allowing the cold air to run its sharp teeth across your skin, making you shiver. An irritated growl rises in your throat, your hands are impatient, searching for sparks of warmth. A silent apology is whispered close to your ear, and then the blanket is returned to its place. 

You've never felt so clingy in your entire life,  the newborn emptiness in your embrace forces you to bury your heavy head and lazy hands in the sheets. However, they do not find their desired reward there. This lack almost makes you open your eyes, your brows already furrowed. Almost, because just the light, almost ghostly touch of soft lips on  your shoulder - on the exact part of it where your collarbone ends with a slightly swollen hill, calms you down instantly. 

A gentle trail of quick, yet sincere, kisses makes its way up your neck. They linger a little longer on your pulse point, as if waiting for a direct response from your heart. You let them have it, enjoying the feeling of a smile spreading across your skin. Thin fingers dig into the roots of your hair, short nails deliciously scratch your scalp. The moan that slips between your lips is practically inevitable. 

"Mmm...Mira..." - you don't have to bother opening your eyes. You already picture the blonde woman hoovering over you, lips now brushing against yours, warm palm cupping your cheeks. If you could change your current positions, you would pull her back under the covers, into your arms, where her beautiful skin can kiss your body for as long as it desires. For as long as you desire, because you feel the need to be glued to her like a strong magnet. 

"Release me, darling." - you'll never understand how she manages to keep her voice so low and enchanting, yet convenient and demanding. Soft control, a whispered command. The hands , that you haven't acknowledged to be wrapped firmly around her waist ,now loosen, your fingers slowly tracing pink lines, pain free of course but full of desire, across her still completely exposed skin until they make contact in the black sheets under her thighs. She places an encouraging kiss on the tip of your nose. - "More of me later." - a pause - "Eventually." 

Her weight, her proximity , her breath, her warmth... completely vanishes within seconds. Leaving you bare , feeling even more naked than you already are. The itchy flames on the tip of your fingers are quick to make an appearance in your body , forcing your digits to crack, unable to control the desire to follow the woman shifting off the bed , away from you. 

"Where..." - you murmur, turning to a side , palms wandering around you, searching for Miranda, as if she has escaped. You hear her soft chuckle somewhere close. But not close enough. Your vision is blurry when you slowly open your eyes , a yawn urging to part your lips. In your sleepy state even your eyes can't seem to spot her. That's until her strong arms push your shoulders back , forcing your back to press down on the mattress. 

"Go back to sleep." - another tender order, another brush of lips against yours, this time a little bit rougher - "Dream some more." 

The pressure on your upper body is long gone when you press your head back to the cozy pillow below it. Last distant memory of platinum blonde hair, swinging above Miranda's define back as she walks to the bathroom, appears in your foggy mind before you begin to fall into half-sleeping half-being awake ecstasy that keeps your body buried into the warm sheets. Yet real sleep never actually finds you. Instead of it - memories from last night hit you hard as a thunder. 

Miranda did her very best to absolutely tire you out, to drain the last drops of energy from your body, to knock out your muscles and vocal cords. You have no idea how long you've been tossing and turning in bed, trying varieties of  different positions.  You can't remember the exact number of orgasms you gifted to Miranda or the ones she gave you in return. You remember how she pulled out the rest of her collection of sex toys from their hiding place in her nightstand, you're even sure she tripped over one of them just a few minutes ago on her way to the bathroom. 

However, none of these helpers were intended for you. Her pleasure seemed to be put on a higher level. You didn't mind watching her face take on that lovely, slightly scared, but hellishly turned on expression just before the vibrations from between her legs spilled through her entire body. Yet she was perfectly capable of driving you crazy with just her nimble fingers, clever mouth, and dirty words mixed with compliments. She made you enjoy things you didn't even know you were into. 

Her sex drive is higher than the roof of the mansion. She only needed a few minutes of rest after each earthquake orgasm, which you somehow managed to give her - some with more, others with less help. And then she would stand up as if she hasn't breathed heavily just before that, her head buried in the pillows, with lips parting in a wicked smile. You had no idea how she kept asking for more and more, how you didn't see a drop of sweat on her skin, how you didn't even feel her heart beating after each round. Compared to her, you were a living wreck. She would break  you and revive you over and over until you just had to beg her for a break, too scared of the possibility of passing out.  

Miranda is definitely hard to handle. Safe to say impossible, yet you continued to bite and bite , in an attempt to devour her whole. And she herself would lie if she was to say her needs weren't exactly met. After all you aren't the only one with jelly legs. 

The sound of almost invisible steps coming straight from the bathroom is diverse from its usual fluidity. You know she walks more gracefully than currently and you're certain Miranda would never allow herself to stumble ,twice. She murmurs something under her breath as she detaches pieces of clothing from her bare feet. Although she uses an entirely different language, you're sure the words that  slip past her lips are nothing but curses. At the back of your head there's even a vague memory of her panting them over and over again in your ear , while you were busy showing great  devotion in the name of her pleasure. 

You don't have time to enjoy the moment, her irritation and the nice sonority of the whispers , which translation fails to appear in the room. Just you and her. And the cold air that fiercely scraps your skin yet again when she lifts the blanket up and throws it aside. This time an apology is absent. 

"Ughhh...you cruel woman." - you groan out , sleepiness still clinging to your voice, the sound husky and deep. Your body curls up to a side , a close by pillow is swiftly grabbed and embraced tightly, your skin eager for that cozy warmth of the sheets. While the fabric heats your chest nicely - your back shivers. Why is it so cold? And why is Miranda not there to warm you up? 

Boldness strikes through vines as you dare to open your eyes , only to immediately throw a thick forearm over your face , facing the consequences of Miranda's decision to torture you more. Usually her bedroom is dark , which is a good thing - the best place for few perfect hours of sleep. With her long curtains pushed aside to allow the sun rays to hit you directly in the face, however, the room shines in almost unbearable lightless. 

"You're going to kill me!" - you wave your hand towards the direction of the large windows , with  head still buried in the pillow, missing the way her blue eyes roll backwards. - "Stop it , stop." - you hiss out , earning yourself a chuckle. Miranda is uncertain how to stop the sun. 

"You're so dramatic." - she voices out , judging by the volume of her tone you'd guess she's towering over you -  "Like a child." - when she rips the pillow from the safe place of your loving hands you do cry out like one. The woman ,who's currently looking at you with the most bored expression you've ever seen, has not once made you want to slap the audacity out of her. And you almost do it , your uncalculated movements, however, do show their effect as your back cracks and you fall down on the mattress before you can even fully lift yourself up. She laughs. - "You better get up now , before i decide to force you out of bed." 

"Pretty sure you're already doing it." - you argue, trusting your wiggly arms to hold your upper body as you lift yourself up, face almost hitting Miranda in the process. As you look up to her, you fail to realize how close she has gotten to the edge of the bed, unable to decide if she wants to be back in it or not. 

"You've seen nothing." - her fingertips are soft against your chin , as she uses tender digits to grasp it and pull you even closer , due to your now sitting position your face is lingering close to her stomach. You can't decide if you want her to move you up or down. Your hands , however, are certain in their decision to squeeze her hips , even with the bathrobe she's wearing  that seems to work against you. 

"Come and show me, then?" - a tempting suggestion, quick to grant you a playful smirk. The silky fabric of her current garment limits the freedom of your lips touching her tight stomach muscles, when your face finally presses against her abdomen. Her hand doesn't wait for an invite and drags its slender fingers through your messy hair. 

"Come on , cooperate a little." - her voice is sweet as the scent of summer roses. You find yourself absolutely captivated by her soft side, her hard to miss smile , delicate body, full of tenderness eyes and demanding, yet understandable behavior.  Though her words betray her actions , you're swiftly lifted upwards, not yet to kiss , but to observe her face closely. Your glare doesn't leave her full lips alone, however. 

"I have to change those sheets." - with that you agree, new pair is needed. Miranda leans closer , placing her chin on top of your left shoulder - she breaths in , tenderly caressing the side of your neck with a hand , devoid of use. - "My children do tend to sleep here from time to time , you know?" 

"Aren't they a little old for that already?" - you arch an eyebrow. You fail in your attempt to somehow drag her in the bed , groaning , annoyed by your defeat. She's as still as a rock, her body refusing to move at all. 

"Aren't you?" - you smile. Fair comeback, just in Miranda's style. Cold, with a hint of mockery. You can't resist the urge to tease her. 

"Thought you said I was a bit too young the last time we discussed ages." - your smile grows when you can physically feel her body getting tenser , meaning her following reaction can be transformed in two different scenarios. Your fingers find their way beneath her bathrobe, bare and ready, you find joy in awakening delicious goosebumps under her skin. - "Not like you seem to mind that." 

"Do you have any idea what time is it?" - despite her best attempt to hide it , the hitch is her breath still connects with your hearing. She moves backwards, just in time before your digits allow themselves to travel along her inner thighs. And she cups your cheeks. - "We do have to go pick up the girls, but before that you need to shower." - this is the exact moment you realise her hair is dripping wet , she has been in the shower right before you. - "And you're probably hungry, on top of that we have to go for groceries." - she presses her forehead to yours - "I was planning to get some work done, but half of my day is already over because we slept all morning, and also-" 

"Miranda." - you call our for her , not too loud but enough to catch her off guard, her eyes widening for just a second before she realises you've stopped her from talking too much. Her and talking too much? Ridiculous, her mind must be still foggy from last night. 

"What?" - she sighs. 

"Good morning." - a nice way to telling her to take it easy, there's enough time for everything. You don't even have time to gasp when her lips glue themselves to yours. You enjoy every second of intimacy she puts into that kiss. Rough, as she likes to claim, but now that your skin is practically hers, you don't mind the force she uses. Both of you part aside from eachother after a few seconds,  for the sike of actually making it out of this bed anytime today. 

"Morning, little deer." - she whispers, nose gently brushing against yours. 

.

.

.

Convincing Miranda to go simple with breakfast, or more like brunch, happens to be a tough battle. The woman just refuses to make something easy like sandwiches. You, however, are not in the mood fore some of her fancy looking, and incredibly tasty, meals. All you want is to stop the rumbling sounds coming from your stomach. As soon as possible. Consuming so much energy has it's consequences. Yet you find it rather cute that Miranda is so keen in you feeding yourself well. Only if she cared about her own diet as much as she does for yours or her children's. As she barely touches food. 

You make it your main priority to make her , if she doesn't cooperate even force her, to eat together after you both get ready for the remaining day. That's your only thought as you step into her bathroom. The room is huge , its decor matching the dark aesthetic like the rest of the mansion. The air is still warm after Miranda's turn in the shower. 

Your glance finds itself lingering close to a large mirror, right above the bathroom sink. And you stop to look at yourself - naked , with only a short, white towel at hand, covered in countless crimson portraits of passion Miranda has managed to paint all over the blank canvas that she decided your skin was , last night. At first sight you find the red dots around your chest bothering, but then your eyes lift up to your neck while your hands begin to explore the parts of your body that happen to itch, triggered by the steaming atmosphere of the shower. 

You're almost entirely covered in signs from your recent love making,  though the marks on your body don't hint for your proximity to be called that. It's like you've spent the night with an angry kitten. Your neck has suffered the most, and it shows, especially at the base of it , right before it can connect with your shoulders - where her teeth can pierce you nicely and without a care. It's going to take you a lot of effort to hide all of those hickeys , plus the amazingly deep bite marks that sparkle between the sea of symbols that scream possession, the raw edges of the wounds still fresh in blood dripping colour. 

You turn around, groaning in slight annoyance. Your back isn't any better than your neck. At least all the red , continuing in a straight line , scratchy lines are mainly in one place. Yet so overdone on your skin that it is not only swollen, but also painful. You curse yourself for allowing her nails to torture you like this , in the heat of the moment , however, the feeling was greater than her lips on yours. Your thighs aren't as severely effected as your upper body, but the soft skin there has also felt Miranda's sharp teeth on it. The marks get more and more noticeable and aggressive, a fine line of ownership, as they travel up to your breasts. 

As if your skin belongs to her. As if you do too. 

The hot water burns these love scars , forcing hisses out of your throat. Yet you compose a still smile , knowing very well that Miranda only intended to shower you in bites simple because she was trying her best to save her mind, self and voice from a total collapse. Quick changing imagines of her legs around your waist, on your shoulders or simply pressed deep into the mattress run through your head wild free even after the water stops and you walk swiftly to your room to get dressed, leaving a path of wet steps in the corridor. 

The weak , almost pathetic, way she moans your name out as you grind against her over and over again. It motives your hands to work quickly with the clothes on your bed , waiting to be put on. Miranda is keen on guiding your hands where she needs them the most, she's a good teacher and you're a fast learner, it works out perfectly. The stairs seem like an awfully long road to follow as you take the first one down to the first floor of the mansion. Her hands wander around the sheets, trying to hold onto something as she begs , you have no idea what she wants, yet you try your best to give her what she needs. There's a nice smell coming from the kitchen. 

The short film of  heated moments from yesterday dies in your mind as you walk behind the tall woman. Hands wrapping around her waist, you press your face in her now covered in a thin shirt back ,  forcing her shoulders to roll backwards. The chuckle she lets out tickles your brain perfectly. Before you know it she spins around, with wrists crossed on your nape, torso slightly forward. You expect her lips to occupy you again, and they do, but you feel them press against the skin of your neck , rather than your own lips , where you wish they had landed. 

You would have loved the kisses she places there , while her hands hold you tight, if it wasn't for the quick waves of pain that travel through your body as her lips meet those still sensitive marks. The moment she presses a little bit firmer, you hiss out, gently pushing her away. She stops immediately, slender fingers going up to trace the scars of teeth left around your neck. It's only now that she realises the damage she has done. An unfamiliar look appears on her visage. 

"I was a bit rough with you, wasn't I?" - regret , her eyes sparkle in regret. You don't share the same emotion. You don't mind her decorating your skin , not at all. Though it can be a little bit more composed. She realises that too , a thumb stroking your cheek, as she tilts her head to a side and a kiss lands on your shoulder, where your body is mainly absent of pain. - "I'll be more careful next time, darling." 

Your body goes stuff. That sentence again. Next time. 

"You plan for us to be doing that again?" - she gives you a smile when your fingers enter the roots of her hair , destroying the quick, lazy hairstyle she has done to keep the mess on top of her head in one place while preparing the food. You like it more when that giant waterfall of melted gold falls around her shoulders. 

"You don't want a second date?" - what an useless question. Its answer more than obvious. Miranda counts the way you walk forward, forcing her to move as well, and pinning her to the edge of the kitchen counter as a clear way of showing her the second date is welcomed any day. Your teeth don't waste time in connecting with her flesh , mimicking her own actions from last night. While your hands find their place wandering down her sides. 

"Darling, be good." - she murmurs, her palms on your shoulders. You lift yourself up, enjoying the strings of saliva that connect your hungry teeth with her now red and marked skin. Then your eyebrows furrow. You extend the collar of her shirt, revealing more and more of her chest, but you don't feel appealed by it. In fact, you get confused. You're sure she's not the only one who decided to be a little bit more possessive yesterday and leave  marks of pleasure on the other. Yet her flawless skin is devoid of any scars or redness, if you exile the fresh bite you just left there. 

"Why are you..." - unmarked, untouched, safe to say unclaimed, if you compare her body to yours. The fact that she's wearing only a long, thin shirt that stop somewhere mid-thigh makes it easier for your fingers to find that soft type of skin as well. It is clear as day, not a single scratch left from  your nails, which you can bet were digging into her flesh with little to no care. It's impossible for Miranda to heal that soon. She , however, cuts you off before you can ask your full question. 

"Shall we eat already?" - a hint of nervousness in her voice. Her chin tilts to the kitchen table and you turn, eyes locking with two plates, filled with sandwiches. A simple meal, just what you asked for, even though Miranda surely did her best to make them look extra fancy. You release her, knowing that she'll change the subject anyway, even if you continue pressing her. Your fingers hold her hand as you both sit to eat. 

Silence grows between the two of you. So does your irritation, as you hate the sound of nothing. 

"What was that language from earlier?" - you find it very convincing how she purposely dragged her chair further to yours , so you can sit closer to her. She stop eating as you ask her this , a tilt of her head hints that she doesn't exactly get what you're talking about. You grin. - "You curse in it when you're annoyed or very, very hor-Ow!" 

You hiss as she kicks you , not hard of course, but enough to catch you by surprise. Despite the sudden pain , her action roots out a laugh from your throat. Her eyes narrow at you , an incredible cute yet grumpy look occupying her face. A hint of embarrassment wandering at the tips of her ears. 

"Romanian." - that's all you get as an answer, because she refuses to cooperate any further. To you, though, the information is valuable. You put your half eaten sandwich down, placing your eyebrows on the table. 

"So i was correct to assume some of the words sounded familiar." - she takes her last bite of her own sandwich and turns to look at you, her attention spilling around you yet again. And you're happy because she actually kept her promise for eating with you. - "I've studied some Latin." - she cocks an eyebrow. - "In university, you know, medicine." 

"Ah yes , I've forgotten they force you to study a language that only dead people use." - her tone drips from mockery, forcing your smile to grow. Did Miranda just make a joke? True, she's not fond of today's methods of learning, especially the things they make you study in university, but here she has a point. You also don't  acknowledge how the purpose of knowing how to name a random body part or organ in Latin can help you in your career, but you don't see yourself as the one to change their practice. 

"Perhaps I should learn Romanian, then?" - you suggest, it wouldn't be too hard , given the fact that her language comes from Latin roots. You point at her. - "So I can talk with you  instead." 

"And if I use the most heavy accent i can force out?" - the way she says that proves she's very much capable of doing such thing , with one single purpose - to tease you. It wasn't hard to notice, even from the beginning, that Miranda has an accent. Though she speaks perfectly calculated , sometimes those specific sounds you can only hear in a native person's speech tend to escape her lips. It's thrilling. 

"It will only bring me motivation, Mira." - you answer her with a tone , filled with proudness. She seems very pleased with you and the way you act towards her. The smile that yet again reveals her dimples is your genuine reward. 

"Adorable." - she voices out what both of you are thinking about eachother. Her fingertips are soft when they gently tap on your forearm. They travel downstairs to your pointy knuckles. She works fast to tangle her digits together with yours. Miranda does that curious thing again, measuring just how much exactly her hand is larger than yours. 

"Is it your mother's tongue?" - her eyes are everywhere but your face , her attention focused somewhere else. 

"Hm?" - she blinks, yet her gaze never moves as she continues to examine your fingers. 

"Romanian?" - you tap on the table, trying to make her listen , she just shake her head , as if you pinched it instead. - "Is it your first language?" 

"Yes, yes it's...." - Miranda's tongue wets her bottom lip , just for her teeth to dig into it a second later. Are your fingers that alluring to her? Or is she just as lost in memories from last night as you are? You have no idea, but her examination is quick to finish. Your hand is released and she turns to look at her now empty plate. - "Eva speaks it too." 

"What about Eveline?" - you know she's adopted, but the girl is smart. 

"She's somehow fluent." - she stands up to get herself a cup of water. You smile when she places one for you as well. - "I haven't had a lot of time to teach her to talk freely in it." - a pause. - "Not like we speak it often." 

"Why not? You can-" 

The doorbell rings. Miranda's head follows the waves of the sound for only a second, before her face shifts back to you. A shared annoyance fills up the room, as you both roll your eyes. Her hatred towards people is understandable, for you, however it's the first time that you feel bothered by someone cutting off a conversation with another person. As Miranda actually tends to be dizzying. 

"Are you expecting someone?" - you truly wish her answer is negative. 

"Not at all." - she shakes her head. A squeak is composed from slipping past your lips as her fingers get a hold of your chin. She lifts your head up, reminding you how tall she stands even without her heels on. Her back bends, her lips on yours, while she whispers. - "Did i tell you how gorgeous you looked last night?" 

Miranda didn't, but she surely showed her admiration. More than once. 

"You want me to open the door, don't you?" - your skin yearns for the tender fingertips that leave it behind,  though you skillfully hide the need of them with a mocking grin. She chuckles in response , running her thin fingers through her messy hair. Dark, blue eyes travel around the room. 

"Be a darling and do that for me , while I'm getting dressed." - bow that she has mentioned it , you can't ignore the exposed skin of her thighs, as the only clothing she's currently possessing is a thin white shirt that doesn't leave much room for your imagination - her chest and underwear easily spotted by your enchanted eyes. Why would she even bother with wearing more clothes after she allowed you to explore her whole body the previous night. - "Somebody probably got lost and needs help with directions." - she waves her hand in the air. - "Happens quite often." 

"And how often do you actually open the door?" - you tease, knowing she's totally the type of person to ignore the ringing sound of the bell for hours if needed. You're still surprised you've managed to force her out of bed the first time you two met. 

"Just go." - a command you're ready to follow, a single click of her tongue is enough to lift you up of your seat and guide your steps to the main entrance. Meanwhile Miranda takes the path back to her bedroom upstairs. 

The bell continues to ring, not giving you a break, as you slowly make your way to the door, eyes twitching in annoyance. Can't they wait a little? You quickly unlock the door, putting the keys in your pocket. Then you press the handle and finally fulfill the desires of the person from outside - for the door to be opened. 

The woman  revealed stands a little bit taller than you, though her gaze falls upon your body as if you're a worm in her feet. Her  eyes darken once she realises you're not familiar to her. She shakes her head, the wind blows through her dark locks of hair - a nice earth colour of brown, suiting her pale skin. The smile on her face looks more than forced. 

"Who are you?" - she narrows her eyes, although she looks like a sweet lady, the tone of her voice hints that she's not so very keen on being nice to other people. The anxious tapping of her feet on the concrete floor beneath her adds to her overall character. 

"I'm-" 

"You know what? I don't really care." - even she cannot begin to explain why she asked. Curiosity, that's it. Or more like confusion, as why the woman she's in search for doesn't open the door like she wants her to do. The unfamiliar woman waves her hand towards the mansion. Her voice is demanding. - "Fetch me Miranda." 

So she's not just somebody. Judging by how desperate she looks, in need to see Miranda. Yet you can't just call her now , can you? You have to understand who you're dealing with first. You clear your throat before crossing your hands behind your back , as if you want to hide from her, appearing smaller, weaker. Letting her think you're defenseless. 

"I didn't quite catch your name?" - her eyebrows furrow, yet you stand your ground. - "If you would be so kind to-"

"Mia." - she doesn't bother with a last name, not like you need it anyway. So that's Mia, the Mia, Miranda's Mia. The fact that you're standing face to face with the woman's you've just slept with ex girlfriend stuns you. Your body freezes , your head tilts downwards , your eyes try their best to not meet up with hers. - "I'm one of her colleagues, just call her so I can talk with her about-" 

"Miranda hates you." - you hiss out , still not daring to look directly at her. Anger twists your hands into fists. Will Miranda be proud, if you manage to give Mia the beating she deserves? Hatred might not be the blonde's woman exact emotion towards Mia, but you know very well love is already out of the picture. 

"Excuse me?" - you're not the only one spitting venom out. As she sounds both extremely mad and confused. 

"I doubt she wants to see you." - finally you built the courage to lift up your head , a ball of anxiety shoved in your throat as you speak. You're not speaking Miranda's thoughts out loud, you're speaking yours. You don't even acknowledge the finger that pokes Mia's chest while you clench your jaw. - "Ever. Again." 

"Who the fuck are you?" - the woman gets fed up with your insolence. Your back hits the outside wall of the mansion, showing you exactly how rough and cold the texture is, once Mia decides to move forward. With her teeth bared and eyes widened, she resembles a monster, which claws are guided by anger. Her fingertips tug hard on your collar, threating to rip it apart. It's only when your own hands begin to fight her, that her crazy looking eyes manage to take a peak from underneath your shirt, specifically your neck area - where Miranda's love bites are on full display. Her madness forces her to laugh. - "I see how it is." 

The ghost from Miranda's past, the ghost that shouldn't be here at all, releases you. Mia crosses her arms in front of her chest, observing closely as you try to put your shirt back in place , determined to hide the red scars around your neck and shoulders. She smiles revealing a nice set of teeth. 

"Miranda fucks like a beast, doesn't she?" - although the sonority of her voice is low , she makes sure you hear her and the mocking laugh that comes after it. - "It's almost funny, for a mighty women like her, to be acting like a whore whenever she gets the chance to." 

Mia's walking on very thin ice. Your fists are impatiently waiting to meet up with her face. 

"Why are you-" 

"Don't consider yourself  special, girl." - she pats your hair , and you loose time in shaking your head , instead of smacking her hand away, because she quickly gets a hold of your locks and pulls hard , forcing you to hiss out of pain. - "And don't think she slept with you out of anything else but desperation. She can't help herself when she feels needy." - Mia tightens her grip , threating to rip off your hair , along with the skin covering your skull. - "Remember well the fact that she seems to so easily forget - no matter what she does , and who she does it with , Miranda stays mine, my whore. Mine" 

Your squirming pays off. A strong knee successfully connects with Mia's stomach, or more like her upper thigh , as your hits is strong but not well calculated. The woman groans out, clearly not taking well pain the same way Miranda does it. Her hands disappear from the roots of your hair , only to wrap around her abdomen. The sound of her teeth madly crashing at eachother can be almost heard from the distance you've managed to create between the two of you. 

"How dare you talk like that about the woman who is still grieving about her lost love over you." - you would never believe that you'll be defending Miranda as fiercely as currently. Your finger shakes , from anger or deep sympathy, you're not so sure, while you point at Mia. Her face expression is hard to read. - "You treat her like an object, lacking ownership." - your ears manage to catch the sound of quiet steps somewhere behind you, yet your mind refuses to pay attention. - "But you fail to realise how much more she is." 

"And for what good she's worth?" - the audacity she forces into her voice deserves to be slapped away. In fact, your palm is very close to running across her cheek. If it wasn't for the tender hand that tugs on your shoulder. You don't pay it much attention while answering Mia's unbelievable question. 

"Start treating her like an actual human with real feelings, for which you care about, and you'll see." - Miranda is mean , Miranda is rude , Miranda lacks the feeling of being appreciated. Yet by getting to know her better, you've learnt she at least deserves the bare minimum. Something Mia is incapable of giving her. 

"Go back inside, darling." - her voice is smoothing, breath hot at the shell of your ear. Mia's jealousy can be seen from kilometers away, her eyes focused on the way Miranda's arms are wrapped around your waist, in attempt to pull you backwards. You give the blonde woman beside you a concerned look. Both of you understand your wish to not leave her alone. A conversation between her and Mia, however, is needed. And it's you who have  to step aside. 

You do it. For Miranda's sake only. One mean glare , a warning, is sent in Mia's direction right before you walk back inside the mansion, the two huge doors locking behind you. 

"I don't recall giving you an invitation, Mrs.Winters." - Miranda has always felt uneasy around her past lover , yet  she tries her best to compose herself, with her back straightened and chin high, she likes to force her authority over the other woman. - "So why are you here?" 

"Oh , drop the formalities, Miranda." - the taller woman's face stays emotionless. Mia's attempt to move closer to her is cut by a strong arm, lifting up to keep her distance. A shake of Miranda's head is a warning that keeps Mia at bay. - "We both know you're not like this." 

"You still haven't answered my question, i don't like repeating myself." - she keeps her tone cold , not allowing any voice cracks that are so temptingly scratching at the base of her throat out. It's been months since her last meeting with Mia, she can't keep the emotions lurking inside her for long. - "And I'm getting impatient." 

"Eveline..." - Mia swallows, now it's her own turn to glue her eyes to the floor. Miranda tends to be intimidating without even realising it , but she has never forced the effect of fear inside the brunette's body.- "I'm here to see Evie." 

"Your real reason, Mia." - her actual name is spoken out loud, at what cost, however? Anger twists her voice in an almost screaming matter. It sent shivers down Mia's spine. She hasn't seen her beloved in so long , the rough treatment she's getting is not something she's expecting. But Miranda is done with locking herself around her neck everytime they meet up, forgetting completely about all the pain Mia has made her feel. - "You stopped caring about Eveline very long ago." 

"I haven't seen you in months." - Mia doesn't allow herself to be as rude to Miranda as she is with you. Despite the anger traveling along her veins , she knows how to play her game. She knows what Miranda likes to hear. - "I miss you." 

Convincing her has been easy before. Yet now , Mia faces an obstacle. 

"You ruined me , Mia." - Miranda's words strike the younger woman like sharp arrows, eager to meet up with her skin. Her heart skips a beat when the blue eyes she's so intensely staring at start to go darker and darker, hinting the missing emotions she's searching for. - "Now you owe me time to heal. Alone." 

"And how much exactly do i have to wait?" - she hisses out, chin tilting to the closed doors. - "Alone you say, meanwhile you're busy having fun with other women." 

"You don't even realise how much you're hurting me, do you?" - the skin under Miranda's eyes starts to colour itself in light, red shade. 

"And you?" - Mia exclaims, lifting her hands in the air, unbothered by the way she's practically screaming. - "Can't even wait for my back to turn before dragging another woman into your bed." - her arms extends to Miranda , then stops midway, knowing she's not allowed to touch her. She curses out loud. - "It's so easy for you to replace me!" 

"You have to be someone in order to be replaced, Mia." 

"Oh , so I'm nobody to you now?!" 

The blonde woman shakes her head, unbothered by the single tear that rolls down her cheek. She tries her best to stop her chin from shaking, her nails dig into her own skin , trying to replace the pain in her chest with another. 

"Miranda, please." - it's Mia who breaks into tears first, her voice almost unrecognisable. - "I still love-" 

"You made your choice years ago." - Miranda's hand wraps around the base of her throat, she breaths in and out , the wind blows golden locks of her still messy hair in front of her face , limiting Mia's vision that is so impatient to break into her personal space. - "Go back to your husband, Mia." 

The brunette's mouth opens to argue, to talk back , to defend herself. After a second, however, she hesitates. Mia knows she's guilty, and for the first time in years she doesn't feel the need to deny that fact. Miranda is a mighty woman, with a strong character, she's divine in so many ways. Mia felt powerful, knowing she has all of that in her hands, even after cutting their relationship into just casual fucking. You were right, she truly sees her an object. Owning her , however, it's impossible. 

The apology sent in Miranda's address is murmured, yet genuine. The blonde woman tries her best not to show how her body is weakly shaking as her past lover slowly makes her way  to her parked car. It's when she turns to look back , that Miranda's mind totally breaks. The burning tears are impossible to hold back. 

"Mia..." - she whispers. Her voice, though, devoid of softness. 

"Miranda." - the woman answers, taking a confident step forward. 

"Mia, please." - blue eyes observe her body, unexpectedly stopped in the middle, locked in her abdomen. - Take better care of this child than you did of Eveline." 

Mia's eyes open wide , her arms immediately wrapping around her stomach. She looks down, her fingers tugging on her loose shirt. And she begins to cry , for a completely different reason. Her breath hitches once she looks eyes with Miranda again. 

"How did you-"

"Goodbye, Mrs.Winters" - the doors behind Miranda open and she takes a step inside. She doesn't allow herself to look back , knowing she won't take the view very well. The sound of tires rolling down the old road matches perfectly with the thud of the now closed doors. Mia's gone , hopefully for a long time. 

Miranda's knees feel weak , unable to carry her body weight. Her chest itches from the inside, she composes the urge to dig her fingers deep inside her skin and tear her heart apart. Love is a weakness, an allergy, a death threat. She'll never allow herself to be this weak again. Yet...at such moments her loneliness craves for attention. 

"Darling..?" - she voices out , a hand rubbing at the base of her throat, right above her collarbone. Her mouth fills up with saliva, as if she's about to throw up. Hatred is a weak word to describe the things she's currently feeling. 

"Darling?" - Miranda realises very well what is happening to her, judging by the way her breathing becomes more rapid and ragged , her head spinning, mind dizzy. At some point she hits herself in a doorframe, she doesn't care , she feels no pain. She struggles to get enough air filling her lungs , meanwhile her body tries Its best to get more oxygen, making her completely lightheaded. 

"Little deer, show yourself." - she orders , she begs , she hopes for someone to hear. You're not the kitchen, where are you? She can't keep this up. Her fingers go through the roots of her hair. Her head spinning around. - "I need... darling?" 

"Miranda, are you calling for me?" - something in her tight chest snaps and she runs to you the moment you peak your head through the kitchen door. She shoves her face in the crook of your neck , her body glued to yours , the sobs that break through her are impossible for containing. - "Sorry i was upstairs and...-Shit are you crying?" 

She shakes, your hands don't waste time in wrapping themselves around her, palms gently rubbing her shoulder blades. You start to feel uneasy, this Miranda has nothing to do with the one from yesterday, even when she was close to crying in the restaurant. The woman , currently stitched to your chest, is in a complete breakdown, unable to stop her tears and quiet cries. You have no idea how to comfort her, simple because you've never seen her in such state. You know she tends to be emotional, but that's a whole other story. The best thing that comes to mind is...to just be there. You place your head on her shoulder and pull her impossible close, once you try to match with her breathing you notice she begins to calm down. 

"I didn't know..." - she murmurs, taking in a deep breath. - "didn't know she was pregnant." 

Miranda's fingers are now playing with the edges of your hair , as she tries to think of anything else but Mia. Your chest fills up with a guilt, once you remember you did hit Mia's stomach in an act of anger. Yet that feeling fades when she pulls away and her puffed, flushed face shines in front you. You're quick to cup her cheeks and press your forehead to hers. 

"Love...she says she still loves me." - her lips twitch when that simple word slips past them, you kiss her gently, showing her tenderness, comfort. - "But she shows up pregnant, that's...humiliation. And she knows, she know she's carrying his child , yet she drives all the way here to tell me she misses me. And for what?" 

"To mock you, she's mocking you." - you answer instead of her, giving her enough time to process her thoughts before every other gentle kiss placed on her lips. Your chest fills up with a nice warmth when she begins to return those kisses without you guiding her into it. 

"Did she scare you, darling?" - your arms finds themselves missing her a second after she departs from you. That's until her thumbs brush along your cheekbones. - "Mia can get rather...aggressive." 

"That's true, but I'm okay, Mira." - you trace tender circles over the skin of her hands, smiling now that her breathing is back to normal. She tilts her head. - "Promise." 

"Good." - Miranda whispers. - "Because I truly need a cigarette." 

.

.

.

Miranda hasn't moved from her balcony for almost two hours straight. Two hours in which she did nothing but try her best to  empty a freshly new box of cigarettes. You find that impossible fascinating, giving the fact that the brand she's smoking isn't exactly light, as the cigarettes are thick and hard to finish whole. Her normal sweet perfume is now dominated by the smell of smoke and nicotine. 

Even if she drowns herself in all this poison, it won't change the expression she has on her face. One you can only see in old renaissance paintings, she truly looks like a piece of art - you only wish she didn't look as sorrowful as she did. Sadness is truly a great emotion that doesn't need to be shared, in order to awaken sympathy in a person's soul. Though your truly hate to see her in such state. 

Miranda's shoulders roll backwards once you open the clear balcony door and walk outside, light breeze begins to play with loosen locks of your hair. You pull a chair, positioning it close to her ,but not enough to break through her personal space. Her gaze stays locked forward, in the endless sea of large, green trees. A magnificent view. You , however, fail to realise how she doesn't get bored of looking at it. Two hours is not a short period of time. Hints that the trees are of no interest to her, as she's lost in her own mind. 

"You're still not tired of smoking?" - you voice out , in both concern and surprises. Then you clear your throat when she doesn't bother in giving you an answer, you try your best to sound reasonable  - "It's not good for you, Mira."  

"If I don't smoke, I'll drink." - she takes yet another puff of her cigarette, a tender wall of smoke covers her face a few seconds after. Her voice is rougher than usual, the movements of her hands , of her body - slow and uncalculated. - "If i don't drink I'll sleep and that feels like a waste of time." 

"Why not get some work done, then?" - you suggest, hoping her workaholic nature will show up. You're even close to proposing helping her around the laboratory as well. Your words actually manage to awaken movements within her, you smile once she turns her head to you. Not returning your gesture however. 

"Do you know why I'm working from home?" - she asks , her lips barely moving. You shake your head, earning yourself a sigh. - "I couldn't stand looking at Mia after... everything" - she tosses the burning stub of her cigarette on the floor, her foot stomping it immediately, while her hands wave around. And you nod , remember how the brunette woman from earlier said she and Miranda are colleagues. - "Watching in the corners while her oh so loving husband comes to bring her lunches." - her hands form into fists and she presses her back completely to the chair. - "As if I can't cook, as if I can't take better care of..." - she stops to look at, a sorrowful flame dancing inside her eyes. Her arm extents to grab the cigarette box on the table next to her. - "I refuse to feel that humiliation ever again." 

Miranda lets those unfamiliar sounding curses to occupy her lips , while she holds yet another cigarette between her teeth. Her fingers are inpatient while they try to light up the tip of it, it takes you a moment to realise she's shaking, therefore not being able to transfer her desires directly into her hands. You cannot take the view. 

"Okay, that's enough." - the look you receive after stealing the cigarette from between her lips just before she can take her first puff after finally managing to light it up is genuine confusion. Then her eyebrows furrow in anger,  though she doesn't exactly show it. Yes , she tries to grab it again, failing miserably when you move to a side, but her body movements are lazy , as if she's not trying hard enough. 

"Darling, it's my last one." - she attempts to snatch it again, her fingers barely brushing against the skin of your forearm as you move your chair further away from her. She growls. - "Don't torture me as well." 

You dare not speak to her. In fact, your eyes don't even cross hers once your own lips wrap around the cigarette and you inhale hard, in hope to finish it faster. Clouds of smoke fill up your lungs , making it hard to breathe. You exhale it in short, coughed up breaths. Meanwhile Miranda's chair creaks, now devoid of her weight. 

"That's not how you do it." - she comments, her body now standing still in front of you. 

"I don't care." - the smoke rises up from the smoldering tip of the cigarette, curling and swirling in the air. You're unbothered, even when you begin to find it difficult to breathe. How does Miranda likes all of this smoke, this smile and the dizziness that comes with it? 

"You'll hurt yourself." - she's calm, you can judge by the way her voice changes. Once you finish the cigarette - you mimic her previous self and throw it on the ground, right next to a small pile of ashes. Then you look at her from beneath your eyelashes. To your surprise, a smirk is lurking in the corners of her lips. Your hand grabs the now empty box and you crush it with your palms , making sure there's no poison left for her. 

"There - no more cigarettes." - you stand up, lifting your head, not cutting eye contact. A single finger of yours points to the inside of the mansion. - "If you want I'll go and drunk all of your alcohol." - you lick your dry lips. - "Shall it means your attention will fall on me." 

Miranda laughs. An actual, ringing and sweet laugh, filled with amusement. Her eyes begin to sparkle with joy. You allow her to pull you into a hug, not wasting time in shoving your head into her chest. Her warmth covers you nicely, while you wrinkle your nose at the strong smell of nicotine coming from her. It's not as bad as before, however, now that you're also covered in it. 

"I think it's time to go get the girls back home." - she suggests, running her palms down your back. 

"Is that an excuse for you to buy yourself more cigarettes, Miranda?" - how convenient, to remember she needs to pick her daughters up right after her favourite poison is no  longer available. 

"The store is on the way." - she whispers, lifting your chin up with tender fingers. You can't help the smile that urges on your lips when she pulls you close for a kiss. - "Why waste the chance?" 

***** 

You don't end up in a store, but a familiar gas station instead, as Miranda's car happened to be out of fuel. You remember being here a few months ago, with wet clothes from the rain, freezing inside the building as the air coordinator was on. The weird old man behind the cash register telling you nobody lives in the distant mansion. You'll like to see his face while you tell him the woman who's currently paying him for the gas is pretty much the woman he swore didn't exist. 

It's only now that you realise how much time has passed and how exactly your relationship with Miranda has changed. It's weird to think about it. No complains, however, happen to cross your mind. 

Your head tilts to a side, gaze landing on a white car parked next to yours. From inside comes out a man. He's wearing a hoodie. Even though he's standing with his back turned to you, no difficulty in recognising the pattern on the fabric happens to get in your way. You know that hoodie well, because you spent a good amount of time trying to decide if you should get it. It was for a gift , a birthday gift. For your boyfriend...well ex boyfriend. 

What the hell is Philip doing here? You widen your eyes , in half fear and unsurenes, in what to do. You press your back the leather seat, hoping Miranda will come sooner so you can go before the man realises his ex girlfriend is standing right behind him. You find yourself praying he won't turn around. Yet the gods seem to be absent. 

His eyes immediately cross with yours the moment he turns in your direction. Both of you take in a sharp breath, just standing there , glaring at eachother. Then Philip moves forward, closer to you. Fuck. You bite your lower lip, fingers nervously pulling at your seatbelt. A tap on your window makes you jump. Your head turns and you're met with a soft smile. You force yourself to roll down your window.

"Hey." - he voices out, low and tenderly. A tone so very different than the last time he spoke to you. When you broke up with him over the phone. 

"Hey." - you return, the sound that slips past your lips is pure unsurenes. 

You both look at eachother in silence for a moment. There's so much to be said , yet none of you decides to go there. Not now, not here. 

"You...what are you doing here?" - a question sent in his regard ,whose answer your ears desire to hear. Philip looks to a side , down the old road. His fingers lift up to scratch his head. 

"A friend invited me over" - he starts, licking his lips. You note that he finds it hard to find the right words, as if you make him uncomfortable. This has never happened before, he was always smooth with his speech around you. - "For a birthday party." -  he specifies and you nod to show him you understand. Philip clears his throat once your eyes shift to the gas station, whose doors open automatically and a tall, blonde figure walks out. - "How about you? What are you doing here?" 

"Just passing by..." - you don't even pay attention to your answer while you continue to watch Miranda getting closer and closer to the car, she's looking down into her phone, distracted. 

"Alone?" - Philip points to the empty driver's seat. 

"No, with..." - what is your relationship with Miranda again? - "...my boss." 

Miranda opens her door the moment the words come out of your mouth. She quickly positions herself in her seat , the black seatbelt immediately going around her torso, as she's keen on safety. You're not surprised when you spot the not one , but two freshly new cigarette boxes in her lap. 

Your head spins from her back to Philip. You find him horrified. His lips are slightly parted, as if he wants to scream but his body doesn't allow it. He looks completely frozen in his place, with widened, unblocking eyes. A closer observation points out his trembling hands. Meanwhile his whole face is covered in extreme fear. 

"You..." - he whispers, slowly bowing his head in Miranda's direction. As she turns to look at who's so pathetically murmuring that close to her , a vicious smile curls the edges of her lips upwards.

"Hush, little boy." - she  waves her hand towards the open window on her side - "I think you've got the wrong car." 

"I apologise, I-" 

"Wait." - you voice out , earning yourself an eyebrow arc from Miranda and a confused look from Philip. He's clearly scared of the woman, not like you blame him - she tends to be scary. Yet , he can't just be as horrified as he is without seeing her in the past. - "Do you know her?" 

He hesitates, biting his lip and looking to a side, ignoring your questions and trying his best to avoid your glance. Instead of rooting an answer out of him, however, you get it from someone else. 

"No." - Miranda scoffs , unbothered by the situation, she  inserts the key into the ignition and turns it until the engine roars to life. 

"No..." - Philip repeats, though not as convincing as Miranda. He takes a step back , shaking his head. You open your mouth, so many questions trying to escape, waiting to be spoken out. You fail in that , because the radio begins to play nearly the same time with your window rolling back up. 

Miranda drives away as fast as she possibly can. Leaving Philip at the gas station, sadly waving you goodbye. 

.

.

.

There's no way they know eachother. Right? Miranda just have this effect on people, on men. She hates them, therefore she feels no need to be charming with them. Right? But Philip's fear felt somehow different, deeper and...personal. And Miranda...she acts weird very often, but this was very unusual even for her. They can't know eachother, they can't. ...Right?

"Stop the car." - you command. 

"Why?" - Miranda doesn't feel the need to look at you, she just continues to keep her eyes on the road, always the careful driver she is. When you repeat your wish she groans annoyed. - "No, darling, we're almost there I'm not going to-" 

"Stop the damn car, Miranda!" - you find yourself practically screaming at her , extending your arms , in attempt to grab the the steering wheel. She slaps your hands away the moment they move too close to her personal space. The car makes a weird half turn before she manages to park it safely on the side of the road. 

"Are you trying to get us into a car crash?" - she huffs , running her fingers through her hair. She takes a deep breath in, then she gives you a concerned look. A soft palm cups your cheek , you, however, refuse to lean into her touch. - "Are you upset about Philip, darling?" 

"Don't call me that." - you grab her wrist, your fingertips making contact with the golden chain bracelet hooked around it. You push her hand back, a wave of confusion travels through her eyebrows. 

"Don't call you what? 'Darling?'" - she suggests. 

"He...used to call me that." - it's only now that you realise Miranda has given you this nickname nearly the same time you broke up with Philip. Adds more weirdness to the situation. 

"So?" - she growls when in attempt to touch you again - you deny her, sinking deeper into the back of your seat. - "I thought you were over him." 

"Miranda you-" - hesitation runs through your veins once her lips manage to get close enough to yours and brush against them. Your chest tightens when your palms push against her shoulders, her seatbelt is off , if you don't stop her now she might as well get on top of you with ease. - "Did your fuck my boyfriend?" 

"Ex boyfriend, darling, please." 

"I'm serious, Miranda!" - you don't bother with your nails digging into her skin. Though she doesn't show any signs of pain, she backs off , her eyes carefully observing the way your chest begins to lifts up and down rapidly. You're grateful for the window she rolls down, allowing fresh air to enter the car. - "I'm not stupid, nor I am blind. Did you do it?" 

"Ridiculous." - she mutters , voice low as a whisper. - "You know well i have no interest in men." 

"Yeah because they can't work you up the way want it, right?" - you blink fast , trying to prevent your voice from going higher, even though you're already screaming at her. Miranda purses her lips, although she's annoyed, she listens carefully. - "So you go after their girlfriends instead!" 

"I don't understand why you're getting so angry about something you wished to happen." - she clenches her jaw, still trying to be reasonable. Very few people are allowed to talk back to her with such audacity. You're in luck you're one of them. 

"What?" - you ask, out of breath. 

"I asked you." - she grabs her forehead. - "if you desire to know if he's cheating. You agreed." - she pauses , a small smile born of pride  appears on her lips. - "And you got your answer, correct?" 

"You're insane." - those words are old , but unforgettable, not once have you sent them to Miranda's regard. She's not as bothered by hearing them as she was before,  though now they manage to pull a string inside her chest, making her breath hitch. - "I can't believe you-" - you stop yourself, covering your mouth. - "What if I had told you I wanted him dead - would you have killed him?" 

"Anything to make you happy." - Miranda finds your question fascinatingly stupid. 

"I blamed him, Miranda." - you point at her, your face getting angrier with each reply she delivers, as every single one is totally unhinged. - "When it was your fault, I- didn't ask you to fuck him. You- he's innocent. And I broke up with him for your own selfish reasons, you-" 

"Do you think I'll ever allow a man to touch me , let alone take me the way you did last night?" - her fingers begin to play with the edges of her shirt, her head bowed low, golden hair slipping around her shoulders. - "He was so awfully drunk, it was easy to make him believe he slept with me, but darling trust me when i say this - I didn't touch him , at all." - she takes your hand in hers , you allow her to drag it to her lips and place gentle kisses along the path of your knuckles. - "Besides, i think it's time for you to stop worrying about your ex boyfriend and start thinking about your girlfriend instead." 

"I have no-" - you stop, blinking a few times to process her words. Half of your palm is already caressing her cheek , she guides it against her skin. - "Wait , you think of us like girlfriends?" 

"Well I certainly don't consider us friends with benefits, darling." - Miranda lets out a soft sigh when your fingers tug a few strings of hair behind her ear , then she closes her eyes as tender nail scratches land on her scalp. She doesn't mind it when you play with her hair, at all. 

"I didn't even know you considered us friends." - you joke, your other arm also extends until your palm finds the other side of her face. Then you tilt your head to a side, smiling when she open just one eye to look at you. - "Do you even have friends, Miranda?" 

"You're changing the topic." - oh, she doesn't have a single one. 

"Look...I don't mind being your girlfriend, or your friend in that matter." - you squeeze her cheeks, finding it extremely cute how she lazily opens her eyes to look at you. - "But you have to stop lying to me." - your thumb brushes with her bottom lip , since her seatbelt is off she can easily stretch her torso and kiss you, but you're still with it which limits your movements. - "Promise me." 

"You trust me?" - she questions, finding it hard to believe.

"I know you didn't fuck him, Miranda." - he doesn't stand a chance with her anyway. - "However the fact that you seduced him , forcing him to  believe into something that never happened, is enough to hurt me." - finally she decides to push herself forward, bringing her face closer to yours. - "Even if you did it for my sake." 

Philip is a long lost case. You wouldn't dare to return to him even if Miranda really allowed him to warm her bed before you could do it. Yet he doesn't deserve to be blaming himself over something that is far away from the truth. 

"Never again then, darling, I promise." - you'll never get tired of licking the sweet lipgloss off her lips as they continuously claim yours. You push her shoulders back before she can force her tongue into your mouth. Her teeth immediately land on the edge of your jaw. Well that's a new place to bite. - "Is it that selfish?" - she asks, although you pay more attention to the hand that tries its best to slip beneath your shirt. - "my hope for us to work out even before yesterday, or even before that..." 

Perhaps around the time you broke up with your boyfriend. Miranda was there , silently watching you as you went to a breakdown, and that was still enough to calm you down. 

"The kids, Mira." - you breath out, reminding her of her daughters. 

"The kids, right." - she places one last kiss on your cheek before returning back to her seat and starting the car, taking the road up to the castle. 

*****  No matter how hard you try , how much you turn and toss in your bed - you find it impossible to drift into sweet sleep. At first you were feeling too hot - kicking the blanket off your body at the end of the bed was a solution that worked only for a while. After a few minutes the mansion decided to show you exactly how cold it can get, so you were forced to cover yourself yet again. 

But it's not only those heatwaves that come and go that bother you. Your bed is not even close to being as soft as Miranda's. The pillows are too thin , the sheets don't smell like her. You hate it. After spending all day and night with her it's hard to go to sleep without having her snuggle into your embrace. You feel rather lonely. 

And that same loneliness is the fuel that guides your legs down the corridor, closer and closer to the blonde woman's bedroom. 

Miranda is a light sleeper. She opens her eyes at the first knock delivered on the surface of her wooden door. Even though she hates to be awaken in the middle of the night, which happens way too often recently, she smiles knowing it's you on the other side. A side of her hopes you've come to propose something more intriguing than her sleep, devoid of dreams. 

"The hour is quite late, darling, don't you think?" - she asks, teasingly, rubbing her still fluffy, sleepy eyes. You swallow, taking in the view in front of you. Miranda always manages to look devine - even with the messy golden nest she call hair around her head , and the short, dark nightgown she's currently wearing. 

"I can't sleep." - your tongue travels along your chapped lips as you lean on the doorframe, enjoying the way Miranda's eyes also scan your body closely. 

"And you think wandering into my bedroom will fix your problem?" - although she speaks with a voice, drowned in mockery, she still steps aside, opening her door wide, an invite you gladly accept. - "Do come in,  though" 

"I just kind of...missed you?" - what an excuse, your whole day was spent with her. She chuckles. 

"I do tend to have such effect on women, darling." 

Her hands are gentle, but demanding when they wrap around your waist, her lips waste no time in connecting with the skin of your neck. You expect her to place you literally everywhere - pin you to the wall, throw you on the bed or simply take you on the floor, but no - out of all places you end up sitting nicely in front of her vanity. 

"Miranda..." - you turn your head to look at her, a second later her fingers come to hold your chin, forcing you to face yourself in the mirror. 

"Stay still." - a simple command you fail to follow as your body is itching to touch hers. You have no idea why she's making you so needy. 

"Mira..." - you hear the clang of metal hitting into metal echoing close to your ears, and then you feel the cold material around your neck. And Miranda's thin fingers that works fast to tie it nicely so it can stay there. 

"I said something." - she tugs on the necklace, the large pendulum positions itself right in the middle of your collarbone. The silver metal matches nicely with your skin, the jewelry shiny and rich looking. It suits you perfectly, as if it's made for you personally. - "Do you like it, little deer?" 

"It's beautiful." - your digits lift up in order to run along the length of the necklace. 

"It's yours." - Miranda whispers near the shell of your ear before placing a tender kiss there. She then takes a seat on top of her vanity, bending her back so she's still hoovering over you. Her palms caress your face, your hair, your neck...and she looks at you with such pretty, rich coloured, dreamy eyes. It's hard not to get lost into them. 

"I suck at relationships, darling." - she sighs. - "I often cross the line between giving too much and giving too little. I'm not certain how to...maintain my feelings." 

"I know, Mira." - her character is definitely hard to handle. A big part of you, however, knows exactly how to match with her attitude. - "I don't want to force you into a relationship, just because we slept together." - you pause to gather your thoughts. - "I know it was a moment of passion for both of us." 

"There was no passion." - she sounds more than certain, a sharp finger is traveling at the edge of your jawline. - "I was thrilled by something else. I feel you closer on a whole different level." 

"You're attracted to sympathy, Miranda?" - you grin, kissing the fingertips which wander curiously across your lips. You then grab her wrist, placing a trace of kisses there as well. - "Is that what you're trying to say?" 

"My emotions are something I struggle a lot with." - she explains, observing closely while your lips continue to travel up her arm. At some point you stand up so you can reach her neck. - "They run deep and...they are too great for a single person to handle." 

"Then let me have half of them." - you suggest, teeth nipping at that sensitive point where her neck connects with her shoulder. - "That simple, Mira." 

Instead of kissing you, this time the woman practically drags you into her embrace, burying her head in the crook of your neck. She adore physical intimacy, especially one that is not born from passion, just shared admiration. She breaths in your scent , trying to remember it well. 

"I do hope you can see me in a different light." - she whispers. - "I do hope you can realise I'm not completely evil, darling." 

One kiss on your forehead is enough to cut any questions from forming inside your head. The last thing you see before the world caves is , surrounding you with pure darkness, is Miranda's tender eyes looking down at you, filled with pity and sadness. 

***** 

"I can't be a father." - the man with a blurred face says , his voice roughly and hardly recognisable. His body keeps on changing with each movement he makes - hinting that the memory of his exact height and weight is lost. The only certain things that shines in him are the golden , curly locks of hair occupying his head. 

"You're acting as if the happening is my complete fault." - the woman that answers him is very easy to acknowledge, to remember and recognise. Despite the different colour of her hair , Miranda's face is the same, the two deep wells she calls eyes still have that wild flame of a single candle in the wind, stitched into them. 

"You find yourself in luck, woman - do thank the God for your immaculate beauty, because without it you're nothing." - the man is not careful with his word, in fact each one of them aims to hit the brunette woman directly into her vulnerable heart. - "Do you even know what the villagers are whispering about you and your...witchcraft." 

A witch, a whore, a monster. She has heard it all. 

"Witchcraft?" - Miranda exclaims. - "It's medicine! I help people, i do not make potions." 

"Help yourself then." - a few steps are taken closer to her by the man , making her feel uneasy. - "Use your precious medicine to get rid of the baby inside your belly." 

"You want me to kill the only single blessing in my life?" - the pain in her voice can be not only heard, but felt. It mixes with the quiet tone of fear. 

"It is a curse!" - the man grabs her shoulders, looking down at her body. - "You - all of you is a curse sent by the Devil himself to torture me." 

"A curse, you say?" - Miranda laughs, trying her best to break free from his grip. - "Yet you call me a goddess everytime I'm in your bed." 

"You were , for a while." - he lifts a finger in attempt to stop her squirming. She's afraid of his rough hand landing on her, now that she has more than just her body to protect. - "That was, of course, until you got yourself pregnant." 

"With your child!" - she defends herself, grabbing his larger hand in between her palms. She hesitates to bring it down to her abdomen, however.- "Our child. It's going to be our child." 

"We're not married, Miranda." - she knows it's bad when he speaks her name out loud. The woman swallows hard, her legs begin to tremble. - "The church will not accept a bastard child. Nor will my father, given his position as a priest." 

"Then marry me. Make me your wife." - she hisses when his grip tightness, she knows his rough hands are going to leave red marks, which she'll have to hide again. - "Do that instead of taking me every night like a coward. And then blaming me for the consequences." 

The slap that lands on her cheek is deserved. At least that's what the man believes in. Miranda stays silent. 

"You don't realise it, but unlike you - I have a decent future ahead of me." - she lets out a groan of pain when he grabs her by the collar of her dress, forcing her legs to depart from the floor. She hates men's roughness. - "You're not going to ruin it, woman." - she finds it difficult to breathe, the man is unbothered. - "Get rid of it" - he says, not even considering his child as a human being. - "Before I do." 

The first time Miranda's God betrayed her was when she found herself at the bottom of a high staircase. Pain pulsating in the lower part of her leg. She knows her ankle is broken, the scar of it stayed even after her immortally was gifted to her, as the wound happened to appear years before that. She doesn't care about her leg, or the awful pain, her arms are wrapped around her stomach as she begs for her unborn child to be in a fine condition. Not perfect, she just needs fine. 

The faceless man observes her closely at the top of the staircase, looking down at her as if she's an ant. His hands transform into fists, his blood boiling. Miranda refused to follow his desires and he tends to be a man of his word. He didn't expected, however, for the attempt to fail. Doesn't matter for him, there's always going go be another time for a new try. He leaves in silence, ignoring her cries. 

The second time Miranda felt like her god hated her was when the faceless man was taking her yet again. In the dark hour of the night, her body pressed to the uncomfortable mattress, her legs on his shoulders. He has always been rough, but the pain she's currently experiencing is greater than any other. Yet Miranda can't say a word - after all she has a roof over her head, she's being fed , she has a ring around her finger and a beautiful, healthy daughter sleeping in the other room. 

She can take her husband's irritation all night if she needs to, shall it means her life can stay as peaceful as it currently is. It's funny how her world can flip upside down with just one sentence. She begged him , all morning, not to take Eva outside, as the flu is easily transferred. Yet he refused. 

"She got sick." - her husband whispers, right before finishing, not bothering to pull out of her. After that she ran to her daughter's room. And she didn't come out until the girl died in her hands. 

The third time God mocks her is her last straw. Her daughter, the innocent child lays dead in her coffin, her face covered in a black towel, not allowing the people gathered around to see the horrors that the flu has done to her skin. 

Miranda went insane. Ten years, in which she faked being a happy wife , while having to live with a man that was constantly thinking of ending hers and her daughter's lives. Ten years, in which she had to visit church daily,  to repents of her sins, meanwhile her husband was seen as a victim and a hero for deciding to marry an unholy woman like they portraited her to be. Miranda didn't even get the chance to name her child, that was the name the church gave her. Ten years...are too short for a child to live. 

She had her fun watching the old structure burn , along with her awful excuse of a husband and his half-dead father. Let them call her a witch, a murderer, a devil. She doesn't care. Tonight she kills her God. Tonight she kills herself - because without the only blessing in her life she's nothing. 

.

.

.

The world spins, time changes , day becomes night. 

Miranda doesn't look like herself when she steps into the full of people club. Her height, her body, her voice, her face , her hair , everything is different. She's you. And she's here on a mission. Philip is easy to spot, she forces a smile upon moving closer to him. A hand on his shoulder forces him to freeze. 

"Darling?" - he asks confused. - "What are you doing here?" 

"I miss you." - lies come easily to her and while he's influenced of alcohol the man doesn't complain. Especially when his girlfriend, who's supposed to be far away and very mad at him casually shows up out of nowhere. 

Miranda takes him to a hotel, where she orders him to undress and get into the bed. She tells him she'll be right back. She stays in the bathroom long enough for him to fall asleep. Exactly what she needs. She pulls a chair and sits next to the bed. All she has left is to wait. 

In the morning, when she senses Philip is about to wake up - Miranda stands up to remove the dress she's wearing. Her hair shines back in golden colour the second she runs her fingers through it. After a few twists in her body - it shapes back into her usual self. She positions herself right next to the man in the bed. Watching his reaction upon seeing a completely different woman from his girlfriend laying next to him is awfully funny her. Philip will blame everything on the alcohol. 

"Who are you?" - he questions in panic. 

"Doesn't matter." - Miranda voices out , grabbing his chin, anything but gentle, and forces him to look at her.

"But-" 

"Listen here, insolent boy." - he stops talking almost immediately. Good. Miranda smiles, adding fake sympathy to her voice. - "I'll leave in a few minutes, I want you to call your girlfriend after that and tell her what you've done." 

It's on the tip of his tongue to ask exactly what he's done, but his eyes hint him the answer way too well. He's naked with another woman in a messy, hotel bed. It's easy to put the pieces together. 

"Tell her what a fucking fool you are." - she takes joy in how his face twists in fear. - "Apologies for treating her bad , say you don't deserve her." - she pats his head. - "Because you don't, you truly don't. No matter how hard you try - you won't find such a treasure like her ever again." 

"How do you... how do you even know about her?" 

"Oh, darling boy , don't worry your head." - she bares his teeth at him. - "she's not your responsibility anymore." 

*****  All of your mixed, weird dreams evaporate from your head almost immediately after you wake up with a gasp, sweat covering your forehead, in the middle of the night. Your head hurts more and more with every attempt to try and remember different parts of all the scenarios lurking in your mind. 

Only one image is clear - Miranda. You find comfort in hugging the real her, who's peacefully sleeping next to you. Your headache fades the second your skin presses to hers. 

She's both a curse and a blessing, a goddess and a devil... she's all you care about for the rest of the night. 

Chapters: 7/? Fandom: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse) Rating: Mature Warnings: Rape/Non-Con Relationships: Donna Beneviento/Original Female Character(s), Mother Miranda (Resident Evil)/Original Female Character(s), Alcina Dimitrescu/Original Female Character(s), Daniela Dimitrescu/Original Female Character(s), Bela Dimitrescu/Original Female Character(s), Cassandra Dimitrescu/Original Female Character(s), Karl Heisenberg/Original Female Character(s), Salvatore Moreau & Original Female Character(s) Characters: Donna Beneviento, Angie (Resident Evil), Alcina Dimitrescu, Alcina Dimitrescu's Daughters, Bela Dimitrescu, Cassandra Dimitrescu, Daniela Dimitrescu, Mother Miranda (Resident Evil), Karl Heisenberg, Salvatore Moreau Additional Tags: Soft Mother Miranda (Resident Evil), Mother Miranda Cares about the Four Lords (Resident Evil), Protective Alcina Dimitrescu, Everybody Lives, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Child Abuse, Sexual Assault, Past Rape/Non-con, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks Summary:

Miranda saves a women, falls in love with her! Mother Miranda is a good mother, Eva never died! No Ethan Winters. No one dies, the girls live and aren't affected by the winter or the cold.

Istg she ain't be paying attention to shit but we love her anyway

Heisenberg is moody

She be having a mini meltdown

Heisenberg dgaf

When she finally comes out of disassociating this is all she hears from anyone

gaslight gatekeep girlboss

FLASH WARNING

Karl really thought "I can change him 🥺"

Aka 10 thousand years ago because damn that bitch old

Shout out to that one time bimbo doll started playing in the recommended songs for my mother miranda playlist

She pays more attention to the gossip then to her own children 💀

Least favorite child check 🥳

This is what I think of when my pookies r made of mold bc they're magic and wonderful and alive (they are stinky black mold that killed them and infected their body and I'm delusional)

by dashaplesen