#bad memory bella strikes again

[loveswrites]

Rainy Road Part 2

Rainy Road Part 2 Poly Cullens x Reader

Time it took me: A while can't even lie

Word count: 1501

To anon: There will be a part 3 ofc my loves

Love <3

Cold. Cold was all you felt. It had been 3 months since The Cullens left. From that night on forward you felt like time was paused for you but was still going on for everyone else. The seasons change and the leaves fall. All you can see is that rainy road from that night. Bella was no different. When your mates left, so did hers. You never thought Alice would do something like that to Bella. But then again you never thought any of the Cullens would do something like that to you. Everything went against your better judgment. 

Charlie has tried to get you and Bella to go out more, talk more, eat more. The eating part was more so pointed towards you. When you woke up from that night you felt fine until all your memories came rushing back. When you did you woke up in a hospital. You had hoped and prayed that the doctor that would walk through that door was Carilse. But he never came. He never showed. That broke you more than having a broken arm ever could. You didn’t know what to do. Carilse was only ever concerned about your health. Being the amazing doctor he is. And his love for you only amplified his push for you to stay healthy. 

So you did the only thing you could do. 

You went on a hunger strike. For two weeks straight you wouldn’t eat anything other than the spoonful of food Charlie would practically shove down your throat. He would beg and plead for you to eat something. He didn’t care what it was. You thought starving yourself would bring him back. Would bring them back. It didn’t. No sign of them was ever found. That hurt you more. They really didn’t care. Everything they said was true. Those months you spent loving them, understanding them, caring for them. Meant nothing to them.

You couldn’t sleep most nights, and when you did they were full of nightmares. The hateful words they said to you that night rang through your head. The voices were so loud you’d wake up screaming in terror. This was hard for Charlie. If it wasn't Bellas screams waking up the whole house it was you. No one had gotten a good night's rest since that night and it was really showing. Charlie would get caught falling asleep on the job whenever he was at work, He'd fall asleep mid dinner, etc. That made you feel bad. You couldn't hide your pain even if you tried. You couldn't like and say you were fine. Your eyes tell a thousand truths.. That's something you always told Edward whenever you caught him being closed off.

You could always read him like a book. Not that night though. 

It was late or early in the morning you should say. You wouldn't know you didn't go to sleep last night. You couldn't. You watched the sunrise as much as it could behind the gloomy clouds. The sound of rain hitting your bedroom window brung tears to your eyes. That sound only reminded you what happened that night. But it also let you know that what happened was real. Not just a traumatic nightmare or dream. 

It was the weekend so you were free to do whatever you wanted. Yay, you thought dryly to yourself. A knock coming from your bedroom door  brung you out of your thoughts. As it opened Charlie peeked his head in.

"You alright in here?" He asked.

You shrugged your shoulders in response. You've never been so not alright in your life. Everyone knew that.

"How'd you sleep? I didn't hear anything last night.." Charlie said walking into your room.

"I didn't sleep." Your voice reeked of never ending tears. You felt like an overflowing river. Or more so you felt that you were drowning in that river.

"Oh.." He said. And even looking out the window you knew he was scratching the back of his head.

"Your mom called." He stated.

"Okay." You said plainly as your voice cracked.

"She wants you and Bella to come visit her for a while in-"

"No thanks." You cut him off sitting up to face him but not before wiping the tears off your face. 

"You're not well. You're worse than Bella. You're going. You haven't left your room since I don't even remember when. You're worrying me." Charlie stressed out.

"I- that would make me worse." You said trying to think of something to say other than just kill me.

"You need to go out, have fun like you used to. Seth called his worried about you too he says you guys haven't talked in months. Why don't you hang out with him?" Charlie suggested.

"Sure." That was the last thing you wanted to do.

"Great! I'll tell him you're on your way over." Charlie said before he made his way out of your room. When you heard your door close you sat up.

You were irritated by the events of this whole thing. You didn’t want to go see Seth. You didn’t want to go see anybody. You barely even wanted to look at yourself. You don’t even remember the last time you looked at yourself. The last time you saw Seth was that night.

Everyone told you that Seth was the one who found you that night, you wished he didn’t. You had wished he left you in the middle of that road to die like the family who swerved to avoid hitting you did. No one would let you go see the family or try to go say sorry. You were hysterical. You couldn’t even form a simple sentence to the doctor when they would ask you “Where does it hurt the most?” And all you could do was point to your heart and gasp for air. 

After 10 minutes of laying there in your bed contemplating if this life was really truly worth living you got out of your bed. Walking in the hallway you were faced with Bella who looked as horrible as you felt. She was dressed and she had her bag over her shoulder. 

“Where are you going?” You asked. You don’t hear her leave her room unless Charlie calls you both down for breakfast and dinner. 

“Charlie.” Bella said and that was all it took for you to know that he gave you both the ultimatum. Either get better here or go home with mom.  

“Who he'd make you go see.” You were kinda curious.

“Anyone really, I chose Jessica though.” She spoke softly.

“What about you?” She questioned back.

“Seth.” You both shared a look and both shook your head and parted ways.

The front door closed the same time you closed the bathroom door.

Looking in the mirror for the first time in a long time you couldn’t help but look back and see yourself as a widow. You were never married to your mates but in some way it felt like that was an unspoken marriage to begin with. Sighing you spent a long, much needed hour in the bathroom. And when you walked out you felt like a new woman with a shiny broken heart. You got dressed and after another hour you were off to Seths. 

As you drove the car Carlisle bought you for your birthday you fought yourself to not get lost in your own thoughts. Why didn’t he take the car? They took Bella’s radio but not my car? Maybe that would be something too big to not notice being gone? Before you knew it you were at Seth’s place. No matter how slow you drove you got here too fast in your head. You couldn’t express how much you didn’t want to be here but here you were. Letting out another breath you got out of the car and before you slammed your door shut the door to the cabin opened. 

Turning around you saw Seth walking out with a smile on his face. Giving him a soft smile you closed your car door and walked up to him closing the distance. 

“Hey.” He said smiling.

“Hi Seth.” You said softly. 

“I missed you.” He said pulling you in for a hug. You tensed at the physical affection. He always hugged you when you saw each other. But it seemed all too much today. You found yourself holding back your tears immediately when you hugged him back. He wasn’t who you wanted to hold, to touch.. 

Pulling away after a while you sneezed and quickly wiped your eyes. 

“So what do you wanna do?” you asked. 

“We can watch some movies and order food if you want?” He said.

“Sure I guess that would be fine.” You replied softly. Seth smiled and you both started walking towards the cabin. Your social battery was already on hell. You had no clue how you were going to get through this. 

[alyana-luvs-u]

toujours pur

PT 1

Birds cawed in the distance as a shadowy figure emerged from his room. The hallway floorboards creaked woefully as a bloodied boy took careful steps, adjusting his coat and dragging a bag behind him. His normally styled hair hung in tendrils strewn across his face, wet with tears. He paused as footsteps echoed down the stairs, freezing in his spot. He dared not move. He could sense someone behind him, their gaze burning into his head.

“siri?” A young boy yawned. He was only 14, and he wasn’t sure what Sirius was doing. Why was he leaving? It was the middle of the night for merlin’s sake. Maybe he was leaving again. The bruised male sighed, scratching his head.

“Reggie.” The boy’s lip quivered as he stared up at his older brother.

“where are you going Siri?” Sirius averted his gaze.

“home.” Regulus’ furrowed his brows.

“but this is home.” Sirius held back a sob as he clutched his coat tighter around his worn, muscular body.

“not anymore Reggie. This is your home. Not mine.” Regulus scoffed taking a step closer. “you’re running away.” There was a pause, and Sirius nodded stiffly. Regulus shook his head. He had a feeling this time it was for good. Bitter acceptance laced his next words.

“you know, so much for Gryffindor. You’re not brave. You’re a big, fat coward.” Regulus spat, rubbing his arms. The older brother felt his blood boil, and rage sputtered into him. Regulus would never understand, he was their parents golden boy. He would never get the mental, and physical scars that he had received.

“shut up!” But the boy continued. Regulus knew their parents weren’t as bad as Sirius made them out to be. They had never physically wanted to hurt their boys, but Sirius was always out pranking and embarrassing the black name, and Orion was known for his temper. It was always deserved. The parents always wanted the best for their children.

“You’re just going to abandon your family for what? Some strangers?!”

“James, Monty and Mia aren’t strangers.”

“Monty and Mia.” Regulus mocked, squishing his lips together to form a pout.

“What’s it going to be next? Mum and Dad?” Sirius narrowed his eyes stepping forward menacingly. Anger rose up in him as he mocked and taunted his best friends family.

“don’t talk shit like you know a thing about family.”

“I KNOW SHIT ABOUT FAMILY BECAUSE WE’RE A FUCKING FAMILY!” Regulus shouted, jabbing an accusing finger in the runaway’s face.

“WE’RE A FAMILY! A TEAM!” He took a deep breath. Hot tears streamed down both brother’s faces, reminiscing the memories of the promises when they were kids.

“YOU’RE JUST GOING TO PACK UP AND LEAVE! WHAT ABOUT BELLA?!” Sirius had avoided purposely thinking about Bella. He had ignored all her letters and attempts at contact. He thought it would make it hurt less. Yet, heartache was inevitable.

“don’t talk about Bella.”

“Don’t run away.”

“I have to. Runaway with me.”

“I can’t.” There was silence. The loud striking of midnight rung around the house, resonating in the floorboards and kissing the moonlight air. Regulus could not abandon his family. He wouldn’t.

“Very well.” Sirus swallowed the block in his throat. Regulus looked away. He couldn’t believe it. All these years, all these memories. Thrown away. Sirius staggered towards the door without a glance behind his back. No matter how tempting it would be. Because he knew if he did, he would crumble and run back, and sweep his baby brother into his arms.

“Have fun with your new brother!” Regulus yelled scornfully into the night, chills wading between the thin layers of his pajamas. There was no reply. It was wearily silent, as if birds had paused and watched the scene. Now the boy stood, stock-still at the door, watching the wings flutter away form the scene, and his brother walking away from home and to never return. All you could hear was the clicking of shoes on cobblestone, and the rolling and bumps of a trunk being dragged on the stones. But if you stopped, cupped your ear hard enough you would be able to hear the gentle tearing of heartstrings and small sobs from the boys. Pain. What a terrible thing.

[caius-upper-half-of-the-head]

Just wanted to write once again how much Twilight lost the initial potentials of their characters.

One (of maaaany) of the most deplorable of these cases is Jacob.

And this, by the way, is the very reason why I don’t really like the introduction of Reneesme, aka the daughter of Edward and Bella, into the plot.

To be clear, I absolutely don't mind them having children, even half vampire/human (although the nature of this phenomenon described by Smeyer still strikes me as odd, but oh well🤷‍♀️).

It's just too bad she couldn't bring her into the story without degrading the relationship between Bella and Jacob.

To be honest, when I first watched the films and entered this universe and watched Bella's life, I was a crazy fan of Jacob. I always liked him more than Edward for a rather simple reason (which Smeyer soon destroyed):

No, it's not abs and tanned skin and loca, no.

It's about how their relationship was able to withstand even the most fantastic tests of paranormal nature and time.

Let me explain.

In the first movie, when Edward tries to read Bella's mind and fails, it obviously gets him interested. This, of course, is not yet falling in love, but still the BEGINNING of their relationship is formed on Edward's paranormal abilities.

Then, when Edward thinks Bella is dead and visits the Volturi, Aro informs them that Bella is his "singer". That is, again, Edward's attachment to Bella and the opposite, is formed (not completely), but still on the paranormal phenomena of the vampire world.

Well, later it turns out that they are "mates". And this, which is described as something much stronger than human love, is again a phenomenon of the vampire world (with werewolves it is something like imprinting).

So what about Jacob?

If ya'll remember, their acquaintance in the first film begins .... with common childhood memories.

“Hi, I'm Jacob. We used to make mud pies when we were little.”

They don't have any otherworldly-fantastic powers to "push" them forward. In fact, their relationship, in my opinion, has always been based on absolute loyalty on the part of Jacob and the test of time.

Jacob saves Bella several times, while also several times seeing her leave with another guy, whom he and his entire family considers their natural enemies.

So many people talk about how hard it is for Edward and Bella in their love (with which I agree), but so rarely talk about Jacob, who is not imprinted on Bella, for whom she is not a "singer". She is just a human, and his feelings for her are exclusively humanly, without paranormal help.

And despite all this, he still tries.

Although his loyalty is due to some extent to his hatred of vampires, he really cares for and loves Bella in his own way.

That's why I liked him so much (until the last movie). It just went against the important message of the books that vampire love > human love.

But then it completely flushed down the toilet.

“Yo Bells, so when your baby by Eddie was born, I suddenly realized what it was THAT THING that attracted me to you so much😵”

And ... everything again came down to the paranormal.

Also, does anyone remember what Jacob did in the last movie?

Well, of course, there was a fight and he was in the body of a wolf most of time and so on, but I couldn't be the only one who noticed how much colder their relationship became in the last film.

Nessie just left Bella's body and now they're sort of "acquaintances". Bella doesn't open up to him like she did in the previous films, and Jake doesn't care too much either. Too busy babysitting.

Twilight really knows how to disappoint sometimes.

[waywardimpalawriter]

Book Boyfriend a Frankie Morales x Plus Size Reader fic Part two the final

Book Boyfriend

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Plus Size F! Reader

Characters: Frankie Morales, Reader, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, William “Ironhead” Miller, Ben “Benny” Miller, Isabella Morales (OC)

Setting: Two years after the events in Colombia (Triple Frontier)

Rating: R, NSFW

Warnings: Smut, Soft Frankie (yes that has to be a warning), cursing, teasing, unprotected sex, oral (male and female receiving), tooth rotting fluff, mixed with a little hurt/comfort, mention of abuse,

Word count: Part 1: 10,284, Part 2: 16,388 (sorry not sorry, I blame Frankie for the wordiness) 

Summary: You’ve been so engrossed in your currant book series its lead to Frankie feeling a little left out.  

Notes: This is my first Frankie Morales/Pedro Pascal Fic, so I’m hoping everyone loves it as much as I did writing it. Something a little fluffy I thought of while thinking of my own favorite book boyfriends. Using the translator Systran for my very bad Spanish translations. A grateful thank you to @icanbeyourjedi for helping me out with Frankie’s Dog tags.

Tag list: @manalg14​   @songbirdcannabe

From Part 1 

Finally, home from running errands and wrangling a very fussy Isabella though you couldn’t blame her really. Exhaustion setting into your very bones from running around town, stopping around noon at a play/girlfriend's date. Talking with the girls as the kids played, laughing over the latest things their men have done and the newest book in the series everyones reading. Heat flared to life at the memory of Frankie from this morning during your talk when things turned towards the more intimate. Though you’d refused to share the details just saying he’s better than any book boyfriend you’ve read. Getting teased by your friends up until the moment you left for the grocery store with a very sleepy little girl in your arms. 

Chuckling softly you put Isabella down for another longer nap so you could get the rest of the groceries in from the car. Pulling your cell out to dial Santi’s number putting the slim piece of tech between your shoulder and ear having forgot the buds in your purse. Not wanting to waste time on getting the steaks marinated for tonight, you decided a neck pain would be a better choice for now.  

Breathing a sigh when he picks up on the second ring, “What do I owe for this unexpected call?” smooth baritone filtering over the line making you smile. 

“I need a favor Pope.” 

Chuckling, “Finally came to your senses and dropped Fish for me huh, hermosa?” teasing quality to his voice, you picking up the sounds of water running in the background. 

Knowing he’s just playing with you though at one time you’d entertained the idea of asking Santiago out. You never got the nerve up instead one cold beer accidentally poured down your shirt later and here you were with the man of your dreams and his beautiful little girl who you’ve fell in love with. You still chuckle at how sweetly apologetic Frankie had been, cheeks stained red with embarrassment at having spilled his drink over you. Though in reality it almost hadn’t been an accident, as all three guys noticed the way he looked at you. Watching the sway of your generous hips to the music, glancing away when you scanned the bar. Never seeing your own eyes rest on him for longer than normal. Only to dart away and back to your friend on your left. 

They plotted, Will trying to talk Pope and Ben out of the stupid idea, but neither would listen, while Frankie took off to the bathroom. Coming back, he’d made a beeline for the bar to grab another mug of beer, taking up the spot right next to you. That’s when Benny tried to strike, sneaking up to Frankie’s left side looking to ask you out himself. Only to be beaten when you turn towards Frankie and he to you, a guy from behind barreling his way through the crowd and into your back. Pushing you forward and into the glass he held. Cold beer pouring down your front as a warm hand pressed against your thick waist to keep you from falling. Your eyes locked and from that moment on you’d been a goner. 

“Hello earth to Y/N you still with me woman? Or fantasizing about me,” knowing there’s a grin on his lips by the tone of his voice. 

Eyes rolling, as your hands work to finish seasoning the steaks, “Keep dream Pope maybe one day it’ll come true. Through I wouldn’t hold my breath,” snarky comment leaving your lips with a grin tugging the corners. “You busy tonight and tomorrow?” 

“Free as a bird, why you have something planned? Party? Or are you finally gonna ask Frankie to marry you?” the last question only a half joke knowing that the man in question wanted to ask that one himself. 

Gapping for a moment but finding the idea appealing, “Think he’d be okay with that if I did?” Of course, you’d thought about marrying Frankie. Hell for the last year you wanted to ask or at least hint at it. But not wanting to overstep any boundaries he set up for himself. Never brought up, though you’ve thought about it a few times. Finding yourself for the most part content having them both in your life.

“He’d die, but say yes so I think it’s a go,” smiling at the thought. You fit right in with the boys, giving hell just as much as you got. But most of all helping Frankie through his demons, not shying away when things got tough. Rather suiting up for battle with a determination he hadn’t seen in seasoned soldiers. Not to mention the way you took care of Isabella as if she’s your own daughter. “Remember I’m best man, Will and Benny bridesmaids I’m sure they’ll look good in whatever color you choose.” 

Giggling at that idea, “I’ll put them in hot pink dresses, halter tops to show off those muscles,” fully belly laugh roars from your lips at the very through of those two grown men in dresses. Santi’s gruff laughter only serves to spur yours on, making you grip the counter to keep from slipping to the floor in mirth. Sobering, grabbing the towel to dry your laughter tears away, “I’m gonna have to tell them you know that right Pope?” 

Snorting, “Of fucking course you would,” wiping his own mirthful tears away. “Anything else you needed to ask me hermosa and please I don’t do flower arrangements. Cake tasting I’m all for.”

Finished with the streaks, setting those aside to grab the potatoes to get them ready next while answering, “So noted but you might have to fight Benny on that one babe.” Pulling the aluminum foil out to wrap up the fork stuck potatoes, “That’s not why I called actually. I’m wondering if you could baby sit Isabella till tomorrow afternoon?” 

“That’s a no brainer of course I will, Uncle Santi to the rescue,” looking for the car seat and his keys. “I’ve got her bed set up and extra clothes.” 

“No junk food Pope or I’ll skin you alive when I see you tomorrow,” voice taking on a hard mama edge. Already having packed a small bag of items, knowing full well that Santi wouldn’t have them on hand. Nor did you expect the poor inexperience man to know what to feed a two almost three-year-old. “I’ve got her a goodie bag packed with what you’ll need and if anything happens…” 

“I’ll call Will and Ben, we’ll figure it out unless it’s an emergency,” placing his buds in to continue the conversation and setting to work on getting the new car seat in place. Double checking the instructions, he would never let anyone know he used, wanting to keep his goddaughter safe. The very idea of her getting hurt knocked the wind from his lungs. Shaking that thought aside, knowing you wouldn’t ask for this favor if you and Frankie didn’t trust him. “Better yet, we can three men and a baby it tonight.” 

“Oh, good Lord if my child comes back with a tattoo or piecing and drinking a Budweiser, I will have all three of your cocks mounted on my wall.” Trying to make your voice hard but wanting to bust out laughing again. Almost straining yourself from holding back the giggles.  

Fake gasp leaving his lips, “Have some taste woman it’ll be a tequila, if it's Bud blame Frick and Frack for that.” Catching the ‘your child’ comment makes him grin knowing his best friend and Goddaughter are in good hands. “Careful cariño your mama bear is showing.” 

“I’ll show you three mama bear when I’ve strung you up by your balls if there is one hair on my precious child’s head missing,” grinning, knowing that you love that little girl with all your heart. 

“Damn Y/N I didn’t know you were this blood thirsty or is it a cock and ball fascination? Bigger question does Fish know?” biting back the laughter bubbling up, triumphant look on his handsome face when he’s finished putting the car seat. 

Shaking your head small giggle leaving your lips, “Watch yourself Santiago Garcia or you’ll find out just what I keep in my purse.”  

“Now you have me intrigued. Thank packing heat in that monster bag of yours?” sliding into the driver seat phone call switching to the onboard Bluetooth. Plucking the earbuds out to stow them while driving. “When did Frankie teach you how to shoot?” 

Heat tingling your neck, as you sputter out an answer, “He actually didn’t teach me.” 

“What’d mean?” confused frown marring his handsome features as he stops at a red light. Hearing his phone ding for a text message from Frankie, deepening his confusion. “Does Fish know Isabella is staying with me tonight?” 

Thanking God for the last question, “No, I didn’t tell him just yet. It’s a surprise. Why?” 

“He’s texting me now, asking if I can watch Isabella I bet,” pulling into the nearest gas station to answer. “Shall I tell him?” smirking when he hears the low growl from the other end of the phone. “Take that as a no Bella.” 

“I swear on all that’s holy Santiago if you tell Frankie…” 

“Yes, yes you’ll have my dick nailed to the wall as a trophy,” rolling his eyes though you can’t. Light chuckle barely sounds when he reads what Frankie texted, “So, violent today Y/N.” 

Catfish: Necesita un hermano favorito? 

(Need a favorite brother?)

Pope: Nombrarlo 

(Name it.)

Not hearing anything for a moment, bottom lip trapped between your teeth standing in the kitchen worried your plan could fall apart. But trusted Santiago, “What’s he asking about Santi?” 

“Hasn’t yet, just chill Bella like I said he’s probably asking the same question.” Sure, enough the next text that comes in, has another chuckle leaving his lips. 

Catfish: Puedes cuidar hasta mañana? 

(Can you babysit till tomorrow?)

Pope: Lo que está en él para mí 

(What’s in it for me?)

Knowing Frankie’s groaning at his answer, Santi can’t help but tease his best friend. “I was right he’s asking the same thing you owe me five bucks.” 

“Fuck you Pope we didn’t make a bet,” rolling your eyes this time and breathing a sigh of relief. You set to work making the key lime pie for dessert, aiming to get everything ready before Frankie came home from work. Along with a shower and dressed in the new lingerie you bought a week ago. 

“Shame I could use the dollar bills,” shaking his head at the stupid code he and Frankie came up with for strip club. 

Chuckling, “Next time Pope I know the girls miss you raining them with those bills and sticking them in their G-string.” 

“How did…” eyes wide when the phone dinged with another text message. 

Catfish: Tiempo con tu ahijada y debía uno. Además, voy a preguntarle esta noche.

(Time with your goddaughter and owed one. Plus, I’m going to ask her tonight.) 

Forgetting all about how you knew what that code meant, Santiago let out the loudest yell of excitement. Gaining the attention of a few people pumping gas with ‘you crazy’ looks and also making you worry. 

“Pope what’s wrong? You, okay?” genuine fear lacing your tone, holding the phone tighter hand starting to shake. “You didn’t have an accident, did you? Don’t you dare ruin my plans for tonight Santiago Garcia.” 

Knowing the last threat means nothing, Santi tries to calm down not wanting to give away that he knows something about Frankie’s plan. “Yeah,” clearing his throat to hide the fact he’s lying. “Yeah, I’m good cariño just found out my team won,” hoping you don’t see through his lie. Something you’re almost scary good at.

Releasing the breath held trapped in your lungs relieved sigh pushed out along with the air. Heart broken if anything happened to him. In a relative short period of time all four men have situated themselves into your heart in different ways. The very idea of loosing them would shattered the strongest muscle in your body. The wise words of your favorite whiskey drinking Hunter comes to mind that family doesn’t end in blood.

“Don’t ever do that again Santiago or might just have to punish you in ways that won’t you won’t like,” leaning against the counter trying to calm your racing heart. 

“You wouldn’t cariño you love me too much,” grinning, leaning over to scoop up his cell phone from where it landed in his excitement to answer Frankie. 

Pope: Acerca de maldito tiempo hombre, sí, voy a cuidar a mi godhija esta noche para que usted y el pronto para ser esposa puede carajo ​toda la noche.

(About fucking time man, yes, I'm gonna take care of my goddaughter tonight so you and soon to be a wife can fuck all night.)

Chuckling, Pope places his cell phone on the cup holder and restarts the truck heading first towards Will and Benny’s place. Hearing the groan leave your throat followed by a quick ouch. “Now what’d you do?” hissing coming over the speakers in his truck making him worry this time. 

“Just nicked my finger is all Santi I’m not gusting blood or anything. Though I don’t recommend getting lime juice in the cut, hurts like a mother fucker.” Moving to the sink to clean the cut, just one more thing to put you behind in getting things ready. 

“Do you kiss Frankie with that mouth woman?” pulling into the drive giving a couple of blasts on the horn. 

“On the mouth and other places to Pope,” smirking at the disgusted sound leaving his lips. Bandaging your finger up to get back to work. Hearing a horn sound over the cell line, “You hear alright Pope? I heard you honk over the phone.” 

“Picking Will and Ben up then heading over to yours,” seeing the two brothers come out he puts the call on mute to speak with them. Rolling the window down to talk, “Suite up we got ourselves a mission.” 

Glancing between each other than back at Pope, “The hell you say man, the game’s on tonight, Ben and I were heading to the Roadhouse to watch and see how many times Benny get’s shot down.” 

“Fuck you Ironhead,” punching his brother’s arm, leaning on the mirror hearing your voice muttering something over the truck’s speakers. “Why you talking to Y/N?” 

“No thanks man you ain’t my type too many dangly bits for my taste,” snarking back landing his own punch to Ben’s shoulder.

Rolling his eyes, “Y/N called we got babysitting duty tonight, Frankie’s gonna pop the question but neither know of the other’s plans.” 

Loud cheers erupt from both men to the point Santi must bang on the side of the truck to get their attention to shut up. Having heard you ask something he goes to unmute, “What did you say Y/N I couldn’t make it out over Frick and Frack’s noises assholes selves.” 

Huffing, “I asked if one of you could start a fire for me, Frankie gets weird if he knows I did it myself.” 

“That’s cause last time you tried you almost burned the house down woman,” Pope snarked pushing Benny away 

Coming back, hitting Pope in the chest, “Of course, gorgeous we’ll take care of that for you,” Benny chimes in leaning into the window so you can hear him.  

“Down boy, or you won’t get a slice of the pie I’m making,” chuckling you put the phone down long enough to put said pie in the oven and slam the door making you jump a little. 

Playfully putting his hand to his chest, “Marry me Y/N, Frankie doesn’t deserve you.” 

Both Pope and Will snort at that, but it’s your sweet voice that answers with, “Sorry sweetheart I’m spoken for by a sweet little girl who you’ll babysit tonight and one handsome flyboy that does some very wicked things with his hands.”

Groaning, “Don’t give us any visions please I’ll need bleach to get Fish’s naked ass outta my head,” shaking to get the images out. Laying his forehead on his arms while leaning against the truck trying to rub that idea out of his mind, having come to love you like a sister. Will didn’t want to know anything about your sex life. 

“Aww what’s the matter William you didn’t see enough of it while bunking together on tour?” teasing tone to your voice plopping down in a chair to wait on the pie. “What time will you three Stooges get here?” 

Shrugging, “Twenty or thirty minutes give or take, depends on how long it takes the blond wonder twins to pack a go bag.” Santi answers getting murders looks from both men. 

“Make sure you ask them their measurements Santi,” biting your bottom lip to keep from laughing harder. “Let them know pink won’t clash with their skin tone.” 

The looks only intensify combined with a confusion at your words, “Thanks Annie Oakley.” Groaning head dropping to the steering wheel. “Which reminds me you’ll have to tell us the story of how you learned to use a gun. See ya in a few,” hanging up before you can say anything else and dig his hole deeper. 

“What exactly did she mean by measurements?” crossing his arms over muscular chest, glaring at Pope. 

Resting an arm on his brother’s shoulder, “And pink? Really, I’m more of a coral,” trying to keep from chuckling while giving Pope his own glare. Benny realizing what he’d said at the end and tries to cover with adding, “When did Y/N learn to shoot, better yet where’d she get the gun?”  

Shrugging, “Just found out today, gonna ask when we get there.” Knowing you can handle yourself more concerned that you’ve learned the correct way to handle a gun. Never wanting you to actually have a need to shoot but incase Santiago wants to make sure you wouldn’t hurt yourself. Especially if Frankie didn’t show you or know. His mind rewinding to the fact, “Coral? What the fuck dude? How the hell do you even know what that is?” 

Dying of laughter, Benny turns giving both of them the middle finger salute heading back into the house to grab both his and Will’s go bags. As promised Pope pulled into the driveway thirty minutes later, all three exist, not even bothering to knock just walking right in. Fresh baked goodies and coffee brewing meeting their noses, along with a squeal of excitement from a little blur of yellow and blue. 

“Ukcl Po,” flinging herself into his arms, as he’s crouched down to scoop her up unconcerned with his knees popping, spinning around to her delighted peels of laugher. 

Hugging her close, seeing you come around the corner with an arm load of firewood bright smile on your lips. “Good y’all finally showed up thought I’d have to start the fire myself,” joking tone. Using your elbow to wave them in. 

Will passes Pope and Isabella pausing to ruffle her hair, leaning down to give her a kiss on the forehead then going over to take the arm load from you. Making you roll your eyes reluctantly giving it over when he gives you that stern look. 

“I’m not helpless you know I can move a couple of pieces,” tossing your hands up, smacking Will’s shoulder as he passes. 

Shaking his head, “And have Frankie put us on freeze for letting his woman get hurt. Nope, no thank you ma’am I happen to like having certain body parts stay in respective places.” 

“It’s not Fish you have to worry about rearranging parts Ironhead its Y/N,” bouncing Isabella in his arms smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Ain’t that right Annie Oakley?” grin widening when you turn to scowl at Pope. 

“Careful Santi or you’ll wearing the pink dress,” crossing your arms to glare at both men, as Benny chuckles beside Pope. In between making faces at Isabella, her giggles making beautiful music. 

Rejoining the group after dusting his hands on his jean clad thighs, “Anything else you need done Y/N?” scenting the air a small growl leaving Will’s stomach. 

“You got a bear in there William?” taking Isabella from Pope to put her on your hip while walking back to the kitchen and check on the potatoes. 

Low whistle leaving all three men making heat race up your neck a small squirm moves over your body when they see everything you’ve got planned out for tonight. Steaks siting out ready for the grill along with the corn on the cob, salad finished and chilling in the fridge, and the pie cooling. Out of the corner of your eye you spy Benny going towards the pie. Quickly spinning making Isabella giggle to land a hard smack to his hand. He pulls back quickly puppy eyes in place and howls of laughter from the other two men. 

“Ben Miller how dare you try to stick a finger in my pie,” scowl firmly in place, Isabella matching the look or at least trying to its more adorable than anything. 

Unlike yours which is truly scary and has Ben raising his hands in surrender. “You sure you weren’t in the military gorgeous that look alone would’ve made plenty green recruits wet themselves,” backing up when you go to smack his shoulder.    

“Shame none of you will get a slice now,” placing Isabella in the highchair feeling a rush of air pass you by. Looking up to see all three sitting at the table with pleading looks on their faces. Shaking your head smile sliding over your lips, “You three are the worse right Bella baby?” 

“Ight mama,” nodding her head quickly, clapping her hands in excitement. 

To which Ben leans over to tickle her sides making her squeal even louder. Will and Pope both making silly faces none of them noticing when you pull your cell phone out to take a short video. Sending it to Frankie with the simple words “Our family”. Soft smile gracing your features watching them interact. Your heart expanding in love but also hurting. Wishing, not for the first time, that your own mom and siblings where here. 

“Hey,” calling from his spot. Having looked away so Santi wouldn’t see your eyes, turning to pull plates from the cabinet missing the frown turning down his lips.  Raising to go over, “You, okay?” 

Wanting Frankie there to chase away these thoughts you’ve tried to keep buried. You nod not trusting your voice right then to answer with words. Hating how your mood so quickly shifted spoiling the moment. 

Placing a hand on your shoulder to turn and have you face him, “You know you can tell us, me anything Y/N, we’re your family and family takes care of one another.” 

Taking a deep breath wringing your hands in front of you, knowing he’s right. Seeing for yourself the genuine concern in those deep brown pools. “My thoughts went to having my blood family here, my mom,” turning to look at Isabella, “she would’ve loved her so much.” Glancing up to see both Will and Benny giving you reassuring smiles that accompany nods of affirmation having heard Santiago’s words about family.

“Blood doesn’t always make family sweetheart standing by someone through thick and thin, never giving up, letting them into your heart that’s what makes a family.” Taking Isabella’s little hand in his, Ben looks at you his words making you tear up but this time in a good way. Eyes lingering on the youngest Miller for a bit longer. 

Seeing your tears, “I’d cry to if I looked at Benny’s ugly mug, got a face only a mother could love,” trying to lighten the mood. Hearty laughter filling the kitchen when you toss a balled-up towel at Will’s head. Landing perfectly over his face getting high pitched giggles from Isabella.     

“Thank you,” sincerity laced through you tone giving both Miller boys a smile once the towel is off Will’s face. Turning back to Pope to pat his chest, giving him the same smile. “Grab the coffee for me Santi please, looks like I’ve got a pie to cut into.” 

With a two-finger sloppy salute and a kiss to your cheek, Santi grabs the glass coffee pot from the maker, sugar and cream sitting nearby. “Anytime cariño, anytime.” 

Each with their hands full come to the table setting various items down, coffee poured, and pie sliced out with a heavy dollop of Reddi-whip atop. Moans of pleasure leave all three men, along with compliments and praise for your baking skills. Benny proposing once again which you turn down of course. Everyone tucking in after that first bite including Isabella who has more cream on her cheeks, chin, nose and shirt than her mouth. Her babbling on about different things while enjoying her pie. Brought a warmth to your heart, a rightness you hadn’t felt in your life till now. 

Reaching over to wipe off her face, the smile gracing your lips made all three men grin. Santi pulls his phone out to take a couple of pictures to send to Frankie later, knowing he’d want to see them. Hearing the tale tell sound of a camera going off makes your head whip around. 

Hating to have your picture taken when it’s needed, “Really I look like shit Santi and you’re taking pictures?” though you try to be mad at him, you fail knowing he’s doing it for Frankie. 

“Shit…” little voice states making all four grownups turn to look at her, eyes wide before busting out laughing. 

“You’re fault mama bear, I can’t wait till I tell Fish,” gripping the table to keep from falling from his chair laughing, fist banging the hard wood making the plates and forks jump around. 

Face going into your hands to hide your embarrassment from the boys, all of whom can’t stop the gruff laughter from bubbling up in their chests. Worried, Isabella reaches out with a pie covered hand to touch your arm. “Oh, ta mama?” sticky fingers patting quickly. 

Looking over at her you reach to taking her face in your hands, smile breaking through the embarrassment, to kiss her forehead. “I’m okay baby girl, your uncles are just evil is all,” giving her a wink that makes another peel of laughter leave her lips. Turing to Pope, “I may have to make good on that threat to hurt you by shooting you.” 

Still laughing, Santi shakes his head never feeling more at home or free than when he’s surround by his family. Eyes crinkling, he sends a wink to Isabella before fixing his eyes on you. “Speaking of which you never told me who taught you.” 

“Must you know all my secrets Pope?” teasing light entering your eyes that fixed on the man. With a heavy fake sigh, seeing the concern under the mirth, you answer. “My brother actually taught me years ago. Frankie took me to the range for practice a couple of times but we ah,” looking at Isabella she covers the little girl’s ears. “We got banned from the place,” giving them a shrug noticing the way all three were giving you a weird look. “Who knew Frankie like’s a woman who could handle a gun. He got handsy and one thing led to another…” smirk sliding over your lips. 

“Stop, stop, stop I beg you,” from Will.

Waving his hands before covering his ears, humming “It’s the end of the world as we know it” trying to get what he just heard from his head. “That’s so wrong,” from Benny. 

Santiago didn’t look to fazed just a grin on his lips, “That’s Frankie for ya. Should ah known he’s kinky as fu…” 

Whipping around to smack Pope before he can finish that word, “Language Garcia.” 

“Hey, you said a bad word,” winking at Isabella who clapped her pie covered hands at her uncle Pope. “How good a shot are you?” 

Snorting, “Not nearly what Frankie can do but I managed to land a few head and chest shots before it got a little too hot and bothered.” Laughing when all three groan while you rise to pick Isabella up, “Fire please boys and light the grill too while I get baby girl here cleaned up and ready.” 

“As long as you stop talking about yours and Fish’s sex life, I’ll do anything you ask,” Benny begs standing, grabbing the empty plates and mugs. Trying to push the thoughts running through his mind on film reel. 

 Pausing by the kitchen door leading towards the bedrooms, “Careful Ben I might have to take you up on that one. There’s gutters needing cleaned and a garage plus the house needs repainting,” giving him a mischievous smirk at his groan. Pausing to place a chase kiss to his stubbled cheek in thanks for cleaning up. 

“If anyone is evil it’s you woman, go,” waving his free hand at you. “Get our little princess cleaned up we’ll handle this,” heading to the sink to wash dishes. Will heading to the living room to start the fire and Pope out the back door to get the grill going for you. 

Standing there a moment tears pricking the back of your eyes, “Our family little one.” Heading then to her bedroom to change and clean the sticky pie from her hands and face. Coming back out ten minutes later a sugar high little girl running ahead of you and into Will. Who scoops her up holding her against his chest.  

“Y’all might be in for it tonight with sugar baby there,” giving them an apologetic look, handing off Isabella’s backpack filled with cloths and the reusable grocery bag with food to Ben. Giving him a tight hug first, moving to Pope before ending with Will and Isabella giving your little girl a kiss on the forehead. “No, tattoo’s or piercings,” jokingly said a hitch in your voice at seeing her go. 

It's the first time she’ll sleep somewhere that’s not her room it makes your chest tighten in worry. Though you know good well that all three men would protect her with their lives. 

Slinging an arm around your shoulder as you all walk outside, “Don’t worry Y/N we got this have a good time tonight and know that Isa is taken care of.” 

“Three men and a baby huh?” recalling Pope’s earlier comment. “My only question? Which one of you is Tom Selleck?” trying to shake the nerves, using jokes to set everyone including yourself at ease. 

“Who and what are you talking about?” Benny chimed in opening the back door of the truck to place Isabella in her car seat. 

“Guttenberg,” saying the same thing together, you and Pope laugh wrapping an arm around your shoulders for a half hug placing a kiss to your temple. “You’re too young to remember plus it’s chick flick,” quickly moving away from your pinching fingers. 

“They’ve finally cracked, I don’t know what did it but they’ve cracked I tell ya,” Ben playfully mourned only to have Will slam the door almost in his face. 

 “Guess that leaves you as Selleck and me Danson,” Will snarks with a roll of his eyes. “Let’s get this jalopy rollin the Roadhouse waits.” 

“Don’t you even,” giving him a dirty look to which Will just grins, closing the door before you can throw anything at him. “Keep those two in line please Santi.” 

Chuckling, “Don’t worry cariño, princesa is in good hands,” stepping away Pope turns to give you one last wave. “See you tomorrow sometime, just ah let us know when you’re done fuckin don’t want to bring Isa back too soon.” Ducking the mound of dirt you toss at him with a smile on his devilishly handsome face. 

With a wave, you watch them go sigh leaving your lips feeling a little lost without Isabella around. Pocket vibrating breaks you from those thoughts, the guitar solo at the beginning of Angel by Aerosmith starts to play making you smile. Frankie asked you when you made it his ringtone why you picked a song that’s more suited for your ringtone. Shaking your head arms wrapped around his neck explaining that he’s your angel who saved you from yourself. Showing you that despite your size, the past you had you’re worth loving worth cherishing. It took a while for you to actually believe him but once you did, having Frankie Morales as your angel did wonders for your confidence and self-love.

“Hello, my angel,” answering while heading back too inside to get the steaks on the grill and check on the fireplace.   

Leaning against the metal outside wall, one leg bend to press into the builds side, “I think you have that backwards hermosa.” Deep chuckle sounding from his lips, making you shiver despite the warmth of the house. “Pope come get our little one?” 

A shiver of pleasure runs down your body at the sound of his voice, smile blooming widely. “Nope flyboy, my angel happens to actually have metal wings,” giggling leaning against the counter for a moment. “He did, enlisted the help of Benny and Will for the night too,” checking the clock to see you have just enough time to get the steaks and corn grilled along with a quick shower. “Can I expect you at the normal time?” hoping that his asshole boss wouldn’t keep Frankie any longer than a few minutes. 

Bent knee shaking to a beat that’s none existent. His nerves shouldn’t eat at him but the small velvet box rattling around in his pocket gets heavier by the moment. Pulling it out to flip the top still a little unsure if you’ll truly like it. Sunlight caught the round cut chocolate diamond, simply done in rose gold with two trellis of white diamonds cascade down either side. Having bought the ring months back, paying it off a little at a time. Getting lucky by sneaking one of your much-loved rings out to get it sized and back before you noticed it missing. Even hint asking to find out what kind of gems you preferred. Surprised when you tell him about the chocolate diamond. Finding the beautiful stone on a birthday present run with your best friend to the local jewelry store. One that almost matched his eyes and reminded you of him. Soft blush dusted his cheeks at your words that night when you explained tucking away that tidbit of information for later. 

As later came, he went to that very jeweler finding the perfect ring he hoped you’ll love. Above that he prays you’ll say yes to being his wife and mother to his daughter. The very thought of you saying no constricts his heart in a vise grip. One he’s sure will squeeze the organ till there’s nothing left but a hole where you once resided. 

“Frankie?” frowning when no answer comes from the other side of the line. “Everything all right flyboy?” 

Clearing his throat and closing the ring box to stow it back in his pants pocket, “Yes, mi amor everything’s perfect. Sam time as usual, since all the work’s completed there’s just clean up and inventory left.” 

“Don’t be too long baby I’ll have dinner waiting for us, I’ve got a date after all,” teasing tone that’s touched by humor. Knowing you could take this one of two ways and deciding on the provoking one. “My book boyfriend is lonely without me.” 

Groaning, shaking his head and readjusting the cap covering his hair, “Woman you’re teasing again remember what happened this morning when you tormented me. The promise I made you?” Licking his lips at the very thought, “I’m getting my dessert tonight and making you scream my name for everyone to hear.” 

“Promises, promises flyboy I think you’re all talk and no action,” knowing you shouldn’t be teasing him but couldn’t help yourself. Especially when that sexy growl vibrates over the phone making you weak kneed. 

Smiling, Frankie pushes away from the wall needing to get back to work so he could get home to you. “No promise sweetheart just facts,” hating to hang up. “I’ve gotta go mi amor, see you tonight, I love you.” 

“I love you to Frankie, I’ll see you tonight. Now go finish work there’s a present waiting for you when you get home.” Biting your bottom lip, insecurities rising like bile in that back of your throat. Hope and fear warring in your mind after hanging up with Frankie.   

Trying not to dwell on those thoughts while getting the steaks and corn cooked. Once finished you add them to the oven along side the potatoes on warm. Stopping in the living room to check the fireplace and arrange the blankets laying them out for maximum comfort. Heading to the shower to clean up quickly. 

Thirty minutes later, body lotions, hair dry and lingerie in place, putting his camo robe over. You check for what felt like the hundredth time the clock on the wall. Seconds ticking by till Frankie comes home and you’re desperately trying to choose a spot for him to find you in. Laying first by the fire but figuring that didn’t look right. Choosing next to lean against the entrance wall just shy of the door, shaking that idea off as it could expose you to anyone walking down the side walk. The kitchen popped up just causally draped over a chair or the counter. Sighing in frustration when none of the places look right. Till that proverbial lightbulb goes off and your grabbing the book you’ve read for the last couple of nights. Laying on the couch, one leg bent at the knee to show off your bare legs, robe open just enough to display a touch of cleavage and the book open but you’re not really reading. 

Listening for the moment you hear the key slide home into lock, door opening, “Y/N, hermosa where you hiding?” Voice deep and soothing to your nerves a smile tugging your lips upward at the frustrated growl that reverberates from his chest. 

Itching to raise up, show yourself to him but the imp side has you staying in place on display for him. Catching the sound of boots toed off, keys dropped in the little ceramic bowel. Tracking his sock covered footsteps guessing he’s peeked into the kitchen when a soft groan meets your ears. Letting you know his nose took in the smell of dinner. Bottom lip caught between your teeth again patience wearing thin as excitement courses through your veins. Bare foot dancing to the tune of nerves as you peek over to see Frankie’s shadow in the kitchen. Hearing the oven open then close smirk sliding over your lips as another rumble of a groan sounds. 

Soft giggles touch his ears, strong legs eat the distance from the kitchen into the living room. Seeing the fireplace alight, “Please tell me you didn’t…” train of thought crashing when his eyes drop to see you laid out so beautifully for him. Pink tongue coming out to wet his lips, chocolate pools darkening, the twitching in his jeans making itself known. 

Growing even more pronounced with the slow trek your eyes take. Starting at his waist, couch hiding anything lower from your view, licking your lips to trap the bottom one between your teeth. Seemingly a permanent home for the abused lip. Trailing over his shirt covered chest, thick tanned neck that your wanting to nibble. Over his strong jaw and patchy beard, smirk in place when you see his lips parted in shock. Though a part of you worried it’s more because of how little you’re wearing, baring your thick, curvy body to his eyes. However, those thoughts died a very painful death as heat slips into its place with how he’s truly looking at you. 

Unable to keep the gasp from leaving your lips with how desire darken his eyes have become, the crinkling of leather meeting your ears. Making your eyes drop to the callused hands gripping the back of the couch so tightly, knuckles white with the tension and you wonder for a moment if it’ll be ripping soon. Returning your eyes to his, making sure he’s still watching when you return to reading that same paragraph you’ve tried to finish for the last twenty minutes. Loud growl is the only warning you get before the paper bound volume in your hands is ripped away and tossed over his shoulder. 

“Frankie,” trying to infuse a little bit of anger into your cadence. But to your own ears it just sounds breathless and needy. Swallowing hard you rise knowing the robe is opened more baring your black lace covered breasts to his gaze. Going to stand but a hand on your shoulder stops you, sliding down to your arm and tugging you to turn. Kneeling into the couch, the only thing between you both except clothing of course. “Dinner’s ready.” 

Still staring at you, drinking in the sight of your body half exposed to his eyes. Chest raising quickly with every breath you take, the soft smile on your lips that you lick and make him groan. “I don’t want dinner mi amor,” placing hands on either shoulder to push the robe from your body. 

Pooling at your waist the knot still holds fast, “Oh than what do you want mi Rey?” 

“You,” simple word never held so much need and want packed into one syllabi, eyes held to yours. Palms sliding over your skin, talented fingers brush under the lace strap perched on your shoulder. Drawing it down to rest on your bicep, breath hitching when he leans in to place a kiss to where it previously resided. 

Hands going to cup the back of his neck, toying with the short curls under the baseball cap. Head lulling to the side, giving him access to the sensitive skin of your neck. Taking advantage and rubbing his lips over the soft skin. Bearded cheek tickling, making your squirm wanting to pull away but also enjoying the slight burn. One arm stay’s at his neck while the other moves between your bodies giving a little push to his chest. Making another growl vibrate through his body and into yours. Arms coming around your waist to pull you even closer. Teeth ghosting that little spot just under your ear he knows will make you weak. Placing his lips right there to suck a mark while his hands drop to palm your ass and squeeze. A touch of frustration sings through his veins at not having you pressed against his body fully. 

Trying to gather your scattered wits, body thumping with a desperate need, “Frankie,” short whine leaving a dry throat, you try to push him back once more. Not really wanting him to move but the position your both in is only making things difficult. 

“Want me to stop?” Breathing the words into your ear, warm air making a shiver race down your spine. 

Whimpering, “No, but I’d much rather want you closer and not this couch between us.” Loosening his grip on your body, you reluctantly pull back grabbing his ball cap along the way. Soft giggle leaving your lips as you dart out of the reach of his hands. Almost slipping from the couch backwards, managing to catch yourself and get up while placing the cap on your head. Eyeing Frankie as he stands where you left him though leaning forward, as if to jump over the couch to get to you. 

Swallowing hard, heat rising over your skin in the best of ways with how he’s staring at you. An idea pops into your head, fingers going to the knot at your waist. His eyes following the path pausing for a moment to take in your heaving chest, nipples pebbled tight beneath the lace. Licking his lips at the sight before trailing lower to watch with held breath. While nimble fingers untie the knot, letting the Terry cloth fall to pool at your bare feel. Hands itching to wrap around your nearly naked form. To hide from those slowly tracing eyes. 

That make there way back up to your face, hunger, desire, love all warring deeply in those swirling dark chocolate eyes. “Hermosa esposa,” (Beautiful wife.) words spoken almost reverently. Drinking in the sight of your body, wrapped in sheer black lace that hides nothing from his eyes, wearing his much loved ball cap.  Only served to have a streak of possessiveness dance across his mind. Bottom lip caught between his teeth eyes watching caught in the trance that is your beauty with every step you take. 

Swallowing, your feet having a mind of there own as they make the short trek around the couch to stop just shy of reaching him. “Like what you see Frankie?” Worrying your bottom lip, nerves have you fidgeting under the intense stare. Keeping your hands at your sides first then clasping them behind your back. The action pushing your chest out which draws his attention, trying to keep himself from drooling. 

Knowing you’ve said something, asked him a question but his brain doesn’t fire off any response. Instead he steps forward, brushing his fingers over your collarbone, touch light as those deliciously callused digits ghost the skin of your shoulders and down your arms. Wrapping strong limbs around your thick waist to haul you against his strong frame. Gasp leaves your lips that he takes advantage of and swoops in for a kiss that’s anything but delicate. 

Fierce and demanding, pressing his mouth to yours leading with his tongue that goes in to taste and mate with yours. Toying with the muscle before sucking harshly, tasting coffee, something sweet and a flavor that’s all your own. Pulling a moan from deep within your chest that bubbles up at the same time your arms wrap around Frankie’s neck. Pulling him closer wanting to merge the two of you together. His strong body pressing you into the couch, wondering for a moment when you turned, but not caring. As his kiss stole all thought and reason from your mind, turning you to mush in his arms. 

Air becoming a needed commodity making the two of you break apart gasping and resting your foreheads together. “Cariño you can’t wear things like this when I come home.” Pulling back just a little only too groan at the innocently sexy expression in your eyes. 

“Surprise,” tugging at the curls getting a low grunt from the man wrapped around you. “So next time you rather I’m naked spread out on the kitchen table?” Teasingly running your hands up and down his back. Stopping to slide both hands in the back pockets of his jeans, cupping his ass to bring him against your pelvis. 

“Mierda,” head dropping to your shoulder, the bite of the zipper against his cock making him hiss. Needing inside you wanting to make you sing his name for everyone to hear. Panting for breath, “The guys find out about that and they will never eat at the table again.” 

Soft giggles brush his ear, turning your head to press your lips to the shell, “You did say I was your dessert.” 

“I did, didn’t I,” wicked smirk sliding over his lush lips, wrapping one of your legs around his waist to rock against your soaked panty covered folds. Letting you feel how hard you’ve made him, the throb of his shaft beating a rhythm only you can dance too. 

Head tossing back at the feeling, you use that leg to pull him impossibly closer rocking your hips slowly. Lips pressed against his neck, flicking your tongue out to taste the sweat tinged musky skin. Hands moving to his shoulders under the fabric of the red and black plaid to push it from his body down his arms and adding it to the growing pile. Tracing little patterns over his chest soft smirk in place when your fingers brush over his nipples making him hiss at the contact. Lower to the hem of his beige t-shirt clinging to his skin, sliding your fingers under the fabric to tease the warm flesh. 

“I’m your surprise baby, you’re in charge of where this goes,” low growl leaves his lips at your words, making your head spin in desire. That floods your panties with slick and a need to have the man standing in front of you. 

Hands start to dance up his chest, when he bends cupping your ass with both hands and hauling you against his body tighter. Looking over your shoulder to see blankets spread out over the floor in front of the roaring fireplace. “That for us sweetheart?” You nod as he trails one hand around to slide between your thighs and over the soaked gusset of your panties sliding two fingers under the edge and over your puffy swollen lips. “This all because of me?” 

 “You’re to smug Morales,” bitting your bottom lip to keep from moaning. Hips however have a mind of their own as they rock over his questing fingers. “You know that book boyfriend is kinda talented…” rest of the sentence swallowed by the moan exited from your throat. Dropping your forehead to his shoulder a shutter racking your frame with the teasing slide of those thick work calluses fingers through your soaked folds. 

Circling your clit with the tips to give a jolting pinch at the mention of your ‘other’ boyfriend. “Seems I have some competition,” dark chuckle leaving his throat at the same time a whimper leaves yours when he pulls his fingers free to suck clean. Helping you place the leg from his waist to the floor before taking you over to the fireplace. 

Shivers skate across your body at the deep cadence of his tone, the dark promise of what he’s got planned making slick flood your core and drip down your quivering thighs. Fascinated by how deep his chocolate browns have become while staring into those beloved eyes.  

Soft gasp pulled from the back of your throat with his hand upping your cheek, brushing his fingers over the soft skin, free arm wrapping around your waist to pull you flush against him. “When did you get this little number? Better yet why didn’t you take me with you while picking it out?” Dropping his head to the crook of your neck nose brushing over your skin, drawing in the jasmine scent that’s burned into his memory as yours alone. Making his cock throb dangerously. 

Swallowing harshly, “A few weeks ago,” head lulling to the side to give him access. Your own hands returning to that patch of skin just under his shirt. Short nails leaving little tracks over his flesh, marking him as yours. “I ordered it online, first time I’ve worn it other than trying on.” 

“Next time I’m gonna be there to watch you try things on,” nibbling kisses dot your neck and shoulder. His path haphazardly moving to the hollow of your throat, biting down on the sensitive skin and leaving his own purpling mark behind. Sweet moans leave you lips a shiver of arousal pours through your veins at the thought of everyone knowing who you belong to. 

“I’d never get anything tried on if your there flyboy,” nickname rolling off your tongue, brushing your hands higher dragging the shirt with wanting it off. Tracing little patterns with your fingers to brush over both nipples. Making another sharp hiss leave his lips that rest against your collarbone. Breath fanning out hot and moist over your body trying to focus on giving you pleasure. Yet  with each brush of those skillful hands he finds himself getting weaker to your advances. Desperately needing inside you, all those lovely noises you make music to his ears. Taking advantage of the moment you pull back to tug his shirt off tossing it somewhere behind you. Pausing to admire the man who’s captured your heart. Drinking in the sight of his tanned skin, soft yet muscular body gleaming in the firelight. 

You’re truly in awe of this man and so caught up tracing each piece of him you don’t realize he’s stepped closer till warm hands grip your waist. Inching the sheer lace up your body till he gets a peek at the lacy black matching cheeky panties your wearing. Hands gliding around to cup your ass, giving you a hard squeeze, drawing another moan from your lips. Eyes sliding closed as your body sways to lean against him. “Your right cariño you wouldn’t because you don’t need these lacy clothes to tease me. Your mire present does that. You make me rock hard and all you have to do is whisper my name.” Voice taking on an octave lower, filled with a longing and love for you alone. 

“Frankie,” voice low, filled with a deep arousal you try to contain, his words making your heart flutter with love. Knees weakening to the point your sagging against him. Wanting to state the fact he’s got the same power over you. Voice like silk over your skin, making butterflies flutter in your tummy, tingles dance through your body and heat pools low, dampening your panties. “That damn voice.” 

Dark chuckle leaves his lips, hands coming back to bunch the lace in his fists to pull it from your body, joining his shirt. He takes one step back to return the admiration of your body. Fire light dancing off the dips and valleys, highlighting the stiff peaks of your nipples begging for his mouth to worship the soft swells of your breasts and tummy.  How your shyly try to turn away but stay still at the same time. The down turn of your chin however makes a frown appear and a dangerous growl leave his chest. 

Reaching out two fingers to grip your chin raising it and making you look into his eyes. “Beautiful mi amor, you’re stunning, never think you have to hide your body from me,” letting go of your chin to trace a path down your cheek, between the valley of your breasts and around your waist. Pulling you flush against him, feeling his rough body hairs brushing against your softer skin. The satisfaction of having him pressed so intimately soothes all the nerves and dark thoughts making them run squealing back to where they came from. The affirmation of his words through his touch sets your blood on fire with a need to please him. To show him how thankful to have him in your life rises like a tidal wave. 

Cresting the moment you lean in starting to place kisses along his jawline, searching for every spot that draws a moan from his lips. However, Frankie doesn’t let you get very far instead he pulls you back, helping you to sit on the pallet of blankets before the fire. On his knees, he takes the cap from your head placing it on the coffee table behind him. Cupping your cheeks between his large hands, watching you watch him. To lean in for a kiss that’s so achingly tender it has a shiver running over your body that’s got nothing to do with being cold. Arms going around his neck to pull him against you. Teasing the tip of his tongue against the seam of your lips that you open on a sigh. 

Taking that moment to slip his tongue into the warm cavern of your mouth. Tangling your tongues together as your noses brush and angle trying to find the right place to draw in air without having to break apart. When he does your bottom lip becomes caught between his teeth, nibbling the delicate skin, gathering air to dive back in. This time it’s deeper, demanding those little moans from you. He’s rewarded with one that’s dragged from the depths of your soul making a smile tug at the edges against his lips. 

Both gasping for breath, clinging to each other, he noses your chin, running his lips over the delicate skin searching out your mouth again. Drunk on your kisses, the feeling of your hands fisting in his hair, clutching him closer. “Lay back for me hermosa,” opening his eyes to stare at you. Seeing the indecision war with the need to give instead of receive. “You said I’m in charge tonight right?” Nodding not trusting your voice to anything other than totally wrecked right now. “Use your words mi alma.” 

“Yes,” swallowing thickly seeing the desire darkened chocolate eyes bore into your own. A shiver skating across your body at the promise those beloved eyes held. “Yes, I did my love, but you don’t…” he doesn’t let you finish that thought. 

Instead pressing his lips back against yours unhurried. Taking slow sips from your mouth, nibbling your lips, dipping into the warm cavern for little tastes. Making whimpers of need push from your chest as you rub your thighs together for some kind of friction. Warm work roughen hands cup your breasts, giving the soft globes a gentle squeeze. His thumbs circle the peeking nipples before trapping it between it and the index finger. Giving a hard pinch that’s just this side of pleasurable pain. The little tug  going straight to your core, knowing you love how he’s playing you body. Making your back arch against his hand a mewl of need leaving your lips. 

Abandoning your mouth to trail nibbling kisses across your jawline, “I want to mi amor, you’re a goddess and I’m here to worship at your temple.” Breath falling over your neck as those words have a shiver running down your body. Heating the skin, heart thumping behind your rib cage he traces with those wicked fingertips. 

Moving between your legs, rough blue jean fabric abrading the inside of your thighs as he hovers over you. Watching with passion filled eyes, tongue coming out to wet those kiss swollen lips you know you’ll never get enough of. Arms go to wrap around his neck to pull him down to you, but he shakes his head taking both wrists in one of his large hands to place them above your head. 

“Leave them right there sweetheart because if you touch me now I won’t get to taste you,” desperation laces his voice making the cadence drop an octave and drawing a shuttering breath from your lungs. 

Never have you seen this look in those beloved eyes as the one right now, pinning you to the blanket covered floor. Body squirming under that dark gaze, thighs rubbing as fresh slick coats your already drenched panties. “Please,” back arching to press your chest into his hands, desperate to have him in some kind of way. Not above begging to get what you want either, “Frankie I need you,” words coming out on a needy whimper. 

“Patience mi amor I’m a starving man who’s just discovered his favorite dessert,” lips tipped up in a smirk. Resuming his path over your skin. Leaving goosebumps in his wake of teeth nibbling your flesh, sucking kisses placed in spots he knows only serve to make you moan and sigh. His name a whimpered plea from your bitten lips. 

Till reaching the mounds of your breasts, taking one taut nipple between his lips. Sucking sharply and receiving a keening moan that surges straight to his cock. The throbbing pulse robbing a grunt from his chest though he tries to stay unaffected. Your breathy gasps and mewling whimpers start to drive him crazy with passion. Switching to the neglected breast while tugging with his fingers on the abandoned one. Tip of his tongue flicking over the peeked nipple before biting down at the same time his fingers tug the twin. Remembering how sensitive your breasts are and playing them like a skilled master. 

His teasing pulls another shuttering breath from your lungs, sweat glistening over your body. Warmth filling your belly with those familiar tingles, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment drinking in the pleasure Frankie brings to your body. Short gasps and moans leave your parted lips as you try to brag air in your starving lungs. Feeling the first strings of an orgasm start to sing through your veins, knowing he’s trying to kill you sweetly with his mouth. Only to have your eyes fly open and look down when he bites the gentle swell of your tummy. Nuzzling the soft flesh with his nose, his eyes lock with yours. Fingers grasping the band of your panties to peel them down. 

Placing kisses over each inch that’s bared to his hungry gaze. Tongue swirling around your belly button to dip in and nip before placing a kiss just before your soaked, puffy cunt. Impatience rides him hard, wanting to rip the flimsy material from your body. But also wanting you to wear them again. Biting back a groan of frustration he moves to the side pulling the fabric from your body, flinging it behind him. Pausing to taking in your beauty even as you squirm under the intense look in those gorgeous eyes. 

So enrapt by your beauty he doesn’t notice your hands coming down to shield yourself feeling a little self-conscious, till they partially cover your breasts. “Don’t,” the word coming out on a sharp growl that has your eyes snapping back to his. “Don’t ever feel like you have to hide from me Y/N. You’re gorgeous mi amor,” voice rough with unspoken emotions that show in the tight clinch of his jaw. Eyes that drink in every inch of your plush body. 

One hand intertwine’s with yours to bring down against the prominent bulge in his jeans. Hissing when you cup his shaft and squeeze. “You feel what you do to me cariño, what your body does to me?” Seeing you nod, swallowing hard as your fingers tip toe up to above the waist band of his jeans. Drawing your nails lightly over his tummy, watching as he sucks in then exhales making you smile. 

Nimble fingers making quick work with the button and zipper, hand slipping inside the material feeling the throb of his cloth covered cock against the tips of your fingers. Before he pushes them away making you pout at the loss. “Put that lip away sweetheart you’ll get your chance later,” smirk making its way back over his handsome features. Hands placed over your collarbone to draw them down over your curves pausing to dip his head down. Drawing his teeth over the soft flesh of your hips, hands sliding under you to cup your ass. Giving the generous globes a squeeze while sliding down to his belly. 

Groaning when the blanket covered floor makes contact with his erection, moist breath panting over the skin of your hip. Forehead resting on your lower belly to gather himself for a moment. Savoring the softness of your body under him, filling his work roughened hands. Lips worshiping the parts of you that at times make you want to cover and hide. Dipping his tongue along your folds grinning when another keening moan leaves your mouth on a gasp. Back arching to meet his mouth, one arm presses you back down wrapping around your thigh to hold you in place. 

Using those skilled fingers to tease the pearl of your clit. Bullying the little nub with light circling pressure that has stars bursting behind your tightly closed libs. Teeth baring to sink into the flesh of your thigh, leaving marks behind for you to feel tomorrow when your walking a little funny because of him. Repeating the same treatment to the twin thigh while semi ignoring the place you want him most. Only those talented fingers keep with light touches. That serve to drive you crazy with need and want. Trying to buck against him silently demanding more but held in place by his strong arms around your thick thighs. Baring your pussy to his gaze, licking his lips he leans forward to draw just the tip of his tongue from entrance to clit through your folds. Making a soft scream leave your body, smirk sliding back into place. 

That’s still there when you raise your head to look down at him, “Pay back baby…” gasping unable to form the last few words as his fingers have spread your folds. His lips attaching to your clit and sucking harshly, tongue flicking like the beating wings of a hummingbird. Another scream bouncing off the walls as your first orgasm rushes through your system catching you by surprise. Gasping for breath, fingers fisting the blankets below you, tight coil having sprung so quickly your eyes rolled back into your head. 

“Hmm that’s one hermosa I think you can give me another before you take my cock,” chuckling the vibrations shooting through your body making you shake. You try to answer, the words disappear on another whimper, body sensitive to his touches. 

Frankie unwraps his right hand from your thigh, fingers teasing along the seam of your body where thigh meets pelvis. Watching with hooded eyes as you gasp once more trying to collect yourself. Though he doesn’t give you a moment to think, sliding one finger inside your fluttering walls, thrusting slowly. Left hand spreading your folds as his tongue attacks your clit, slowly this time. Giving light little kitten licks, circling with the pointed tip before flicking the throbbing pearl. Crooking the finger inside you to press that little spot with each pass. Adding a second to stretch you open, groaning against your folds, “So tight for me mi amor, every fucking time, God.” Eyes dropping down to watch his fingers disappear inside your tight quivering walls. Curses leaving his lips in broken Spanish his hips rutting against the floor needing relief from the throbbing of his cock. 

He stays transfixed by the sigh of your cunt taking his fingers, the wet sounds with each thrust, the way your thighs shake around him. He adds a third finger, your voice meeting his ears. Though all he can make out if his name and please. Sparing a glance upward his breath catching at what he’s witnessing. Your hands cupping and massaging both your breasts, fingers tugging and pinching the nipples in time with his fingers. The sight burned into his memory one he’ll gladly keep and try to repeat many times over. Seeing you so wanton and free like this bolsters his ego knowing he’s the reason your on display in such a manner. Even as a spark of possessiveness cuts through never wanting anyone else to experience you in this way. 

Sensing eyes watching you, you raise your head to insnare his gaze, licking your lips slowly as your breath catches. Tingles dancing over your body at the way he’s mastered your pleasure. Giving you just what you need and when. Feeling almost as full with his fingers as with his cock though you crave having him deep inside you. But also knowing he won’t give you those desires till you’ve cum once more. Head dropping your back bows when his talented lips seal over your clit. Tongue lapping at the little nub and drawing different patterns to make you see stars explode behind those closed lids. His name chanted to the ceiling while those wicked fingers draw out your pleasure with each stroke and crook. Brushing that hidden spot no man other than Frankie has ever found. A moaning, withering mess under the man’s skilled mouth and hands. That coil tightening in your belly threatening to snap any second. 

Caught between wanting the delicious torture to end but also to continue being the pleasurable pain masochist you’ve become. All at once it becomes too much and not enough, hands shoot down to clutch at Frankie’s head. Tugging his hair and pressing him closer as your orgasm washes over you, his name a scream ripped from your mouth. Breath gasping from your lungs, body shattering around his tongue and fingers. You try to push him away, cunt oversensitive  from the two orgasms he’s brought you. 

Yet he continues tormenting you, with slow thrusts of his fingers, little laps of his tongue. Drawing out your orgasm, working you through each shuttering after shock. Till your spent, hands dropping to your side, eyes closed as you trying to control your breathing. Pulling his drenched fingers from your quivering walls to suck them clean. Humming in satisfaction at your tangy essence, placing one more kiss to your quivering clit making you jump at the contact and moan at the feel, proud chuckle leaving Frankie’s glistening lips. 

Placing kisses as he moved up your body, hovering over you once more. A shutter racing over his frame when your legs wrap around his trim waist, feet crossing at the small of his back to press his swollen jeans covered cock against your tender folds. 

“You’re pretty proud of yourself huh Morales?” Lashes fluttering just peeking up at him to see the smirk forming on his lips. Wanting to be cross with him for all the teasing but couldn’t summing the energy. Fingers carding through his hair tugging at the mahogany strands to bring his mouth down against yours. Tasting the remains of your essence when your tongue dips into his mouth. Mating with his in a dance that pulls a groan from the man above you. 

Hands tracing patterns over his back feeling the muscles shift, short nails lightly digging into his skin as your hips rut in slow circles against his groin. Your own smirk forming when you feel the shutter roll down his body. Detaching his mouth from yours to rest your foreheads together, breath fanning over your face as he tries to hold back just a bit longer. “Now who’s proud of themselves hermosa?”       

Giving a small shrug, one hand coming around to glide up his chest. Brushing over his nipple before wrapping around his neck. “I’d say it’s pretty equal now. Though you’re a little over dressed my love,” free hand sliding down to his ass and giving a squeeze. 

Wrapping his arms around you, Frankie rolls the both of you over, hands going to behind his head. Dark eyes watching you sit up, straddling his waist, wet folds pressing against his throbbing cock. “Undress me princesa.” 

 “Do I get to take my time with you flyboy?” Leaning down to place a chaste kiss to his lips, making sure you rub your body against his. Knowing he’s having a hard time containing himself, catching the way his hands are fisting under his head. “I could really draw this out, pay you back,” with each word you place a kiss. Starting just under his chin, to the pulse point on his neck. Nibbling that little spot for a moment to suck a mark. Moving on to flick each nipple, giving little bites to his sternum. Feeling rather than hearing the growl vibrate through his chest. 

Glancing up to ensnare his eyes, lips pressing into his tummy more times than there are words. Nuzzling the thin line of wiry hair leading down and under his jeans. “Oh look a map it’s a little thin but it seems to lead me to what I want.” Grinning at the groan echoing from his throat, rubbing your cheek into his skin. 

Fingers making quick work of the button, slowly lowering the zipper, hands slipping under the fabric to push from his hips. Leaving his boxer briefs on for now while working those sinfully sexy jeans from his body, depositing the behind you. Sitting on your knees between his legs, drinking in the sight  of your love. Running the palms of your hands up his calves to strong trembling thighs, fingers edging the stretchy material that hides little from your imagination. Bracing one hand on his hip you lean down to kiss the very visible patch of wetness. Knowing the crown of his cock rests beneath, lips much like this morning teasing the sensitive head. As your fingers tip toe up to pull down the band of his underwear. Baring his shaft to your hungry glaze, yanking the undergarment down his legs and straddling his right thigh. Rubbing yourself over the quivering muscle that flex’s with the touch of your wet cunt against his skin. 

“Shit ba… baby please,” whimper leaving his lips at the feel of your soft lips brushing over the crown. Warm breath making him twitch in need, hands having come from under his head to fist the blankets below. Knowing he won’t last long with how your teasing and tormenting him. Eyes rolling to the back of his head when the warmth of your mouth engulfs the crown. Free hand stroking his shaft, pulling the foreskin back to reveal the sensitive cock head to your lips. Tongue finding that one little spot just under the crown which never fails to make him lose his shit.

Hips thrusting upwards filling your gapping jaw having prepared yourself for that very moment and relaxed to take him down. Saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth, coating your fingers helping to lubricate your movements. A whine leaves the back of your throat when Frankie pulls you off his cock, catching sigh of the wrecked look on his face. The trembling of his body, the curses slipping from his lips in a mix of Spanish and English. 

“Can’t wait hermosa, need to be inside you, need you to ride me,” voice desperate and cracking. Not pausing in his movements to line you up, knees on either side of his waist. Like a rag doll you let him position you where he wants, not coming back to yourself till you feel the bunt tip of his cock run through your folds.

“Frankie…” calling out to try and gain his attention through the desire fogged brain. Unsure of the position, one that you’ve never tried together. Though you couldn’t say it not one you hadn’t thought about. You just didn’t want to hurt him by being on top. 

Shaking his head, positioning your body over his throbbing length. One hand wrapping around the base, long light strokes as he lines himself up. Even with his passion hazed mind, he knows your wanting to disagree with him. Making him sit up, cupping the back of your neck, “My choice mi amor I want to feel you around me, watch you bounce on my cock. See these beautiful eyes,” tracing his fingers to your cheek, brushing over your closed lids. “I want to watch you take your pleasure from me. Please mi ángel,” voice deep and tinged with want.

Lifting your lashes to stare at Frankie, using his shoulders to raise up as he teases your folds with his cock. Brushing over your clit, making you tremble in his arms before lining yourself up and sinking down slowly. Till your thick thighs are pressed against his hips, head tossed back at feeling so full. The slight burn of being stretched by his cock never fails to make you shutter in his arms. 

“So fucking wet, tight,” muttering the two words over while burying his face in your neck. Arms wrapping around your waist as yours move to wrap around his shoulders pressing your bodies together. Letting the fullness feeling wash over you, consuming your body. The steady throb of that vein reverberating through your system making you whimper, rolling your hips against his groin. 

“Baby please I need to move,” little whines leaving you lips a gasp wrenched from the depths of your soul when he lays back pressing his cock even deeper inside you. Large hands on your hips grounding him, watching with hooded eyes. Feet planted to thrust slowly up into your quivering walls,  filling you so completely you don’t know where you end and he begins. Not that you care at the moment, as your worry melts away with the tender heated look he’s giving you. 

“Ride me sweetheart,” bottom lip trembling before caught between his teeth. Watching you place a hand on the center of his chest. Rising up till just the cock head rests in the circle of your fluttering walls. Slowly sinking back down teasing the both of you with long deep strokes, moaning when he brushes over your g-spot each time. 

Eyes rolling back a gasp leaves your lips when warm hands come up to cup and massage your breasts. Tugging the peaked nipples making your walls squeeze his shaft tighter. A groan forced from his parted lips at the feeling. Watching the way your features morph in pleasure, biting your bottom lip with eyes tightly closed. 

“Look at me hermosa,” the command is hard to ignore combined with the tugs of his fingers at your nipples making you gasp. You slowly do as he asked entranced by the way he’s watching. Tongue coming out to wet his parched lips, breath catching in his throat at the sigh you present him. Sweat coating his forehead, dripping down the side of his face, chest glistening as you take him in. Hungry eyes devouring the look of pleasure, the needy little grunts expelled from his mouth. “Lean back on my knees I wanna watch my cock disappear into that pretty cunt of yours.” 

Whimpering, pausing your movements to do as he asks. Bracing yourself with hands on either side of you on the floor. Pressing your back against his bent knees that have lowered just a fraction so your spread out backwards on display for his eyes. Hips rolling against his groin, body undulating against him the movements slow and delicate. Filled with a passionate abandonment that never fails to make Frankie smile. Head tossed back gasping breath leaving your parted lips, forgetting about everything that’s not centered on Frankie and the movement of your hips. 

“So beautiful amor,” licking his lips, hand moving down to circle the little pulsing pearl with light pressure. Watching you quiver around him, feeling your walls squeeze his shaft, almost to the point of sucking him in deeper. Eyes glued to the apex of your thighs, observing how his cock disappears while his fingers draw different patterns over your clit. The sight nearly making him cum right then combined with the noises your making he knows it’s not long before he’s falling into the arms of pleasure. 

Siting up unable to keep his hands and mouth from you any longer, Frankie wraps his arm around your shoulders bringing you down with him. Mouth’s attached in a deep tangling of a kiss that’s pulling small little mewling whines and whimpers from you. Keeping his fingers on your clit tapping and circling making you gasp into his mouth. All the more with the vise like grip of his free arm around your waist holding you in place as his hips thrust upwards. In quick and deep punishing thrusts, chasing that high only you can give him but first he wants you to see the stars. Knowing your getting closer with each thrust, the tight clinch of your walls around his shaft, making him grit his teeth. 

With that thought and a need for air you break apart, lips going to your ear, “So fucking good to me mi amor,” groaning breathless. “Taking my cock like a good girl, letting me fuck you like this. Christ the things you make me feel mi vida. I’ll never get enough of you.” 

“Frankie,” another whimper of his name leaves your lips that your bury into his shoulder. Eyes dropping closed the closer you get to your release. Trying to grasp on to your sanity with each deep, hard stroke he delivers to your body. His words only serving to make you shiver even harder and when he hits that spot you blank. Mouth gapping in a silent scream of his name, release washing over you and coating his cock that keeps hammering into your quivering cunt. 

Teeth sinking into the flesh of your shoulder sucking a mark into the soft skin. Working you through your orgasm as his own begs for release. Balls tightening against his shaft as his hips start to falter in his pace. Hot moist breath leaving his nose that nuzzles the side of your throat over the mark he’s left. Eyes clinch tightly, cock throbbing to his heart beat as he spills his seed deep inside your body. 

Both of you are out of breath Frankie moving his hips in short shallow thrusts feeling your combined juices seeping out around his shaft. Groaning when he remembers the one thing he forgot. Hearing the sound you place a kiss to his neck, loopy smile gracing your features. Raising your head to look down at him, hips finally stopped even as the pleasurable after shocks still make your body tremble. 

Kissing his chin, nosing that little spot where no beard grows, nipping the skin gently, “Shall I move baby? Am I squishing you?” 

“Fuck no you ain’t hermosa and if you don’t stop saying shit like that I’m gonna smack your ass. You feel too damn good laying there and I don’t want to move from inside you.” Realizing what he just said heat floods his cheeks staining them a soft red. “I’m sorry mi ángel, I just don’t like you talking that way about yourself.” 

Biting the inside of your cheek to keep the moan from escaping at his words, the force of his tone making you clinch around him tightly. Praying he hasn’t felt the change in your demeanor or the way your heart flutters at his words. Though you should’ve known better when thumb and forefinger pinch your chin to rise it from looking at his chest. 

“Amor?” Having felt that squeeze around his shaft, making his heart hammer against his ribs. “Does that thought excite you sweetheart?” 

Soft whimper leaving your lips with a shake of your head though you focus back on what you’d intended to ask him after hearing the groan. Trying to divert his train of thought away from a newly found kink. “Why’d you groan if not because…” biting your bottom lip when you feel the stinging bite of his hand coming down on your right butt cheek. Chocking on the moan that tries to leave your lips as his fingers rub the offended area. Burying your heated face in his chest that rumbles under your head. “S’not funny Fransisco,” pinching his side getting a yelp that brings a smirk to your lips. 

“Woman you should be wore out,” hearing your playful huff. “Hmm seems I have more work to do mi amor, your still able to think and pinch.” Running his hands over your back, rolling the two of you over so he can stare down into your beautiful eyes softening cock slipping from your warm depths. Making you both groan at the loss. “And as to why I groaned a moment ago,” looking sheepish he leans up to kiss your forehead. Leaving his lips pressed there before speaking, “In my haste to have you cariño I forgot to use a condom.” 

Thinking for a moment, small chuckle leaving your lips that turns into full giggles you can’t keep inside anymore. Holding onto Frankie tightly, burying your face back into his neck, breathless laughter ghosting over his skin. Frown marring his features when he feels the shaking that turns into confusion as those giggles reach his ears. 

“It’s not funny sweetheart we haven’t talked about…” fingers covering his lips to stop the flow of words. 

Eyes locking with the worried chocolate orbits, “Frankie my love if we happen to make a baby tonight I would be over the moon with joy. That’s why I’m giggling,” smiling, little chuckles still escaping. “I want to have your child mi rey,” cupping his cheek to bring his lips down to yours. Placing nibbling kisses before a full press slipping your tongue into his mouth, coaxing a moan from deep within. Pleased smile tugging your lips up as you draw back, “Even if it’s not tonight I wouldn’t say no to trying every night.” 

“Mi amor,” endearment spoken on the tail end of a moan. Smile so blinding its as if the sun has been captured and brought inside to shine just for you. Holding you close he crashes his lips against yours, taking your moans and swallowing them. Sloppy and fierce, a clash of teeth and tongues, each trying to dominate the other. Till air becomes needed and you break apart gasping for breath. “You sure?” Worry creasing his brow, chocolate eyes filling with uncertainty as he looks at you.

Brushing your thumb over the apple of his cheek, leaning up to place your lips over his, “I’m positive Frankie I want to give Isabella a brother or sister to play with.” 

Moving off you, hearing the whimper you make, “Don’t move baby I’m not going far.” Reaching for his jeans a nervous smile sliding over his face as he pulls the little black velvet box from the denim. Pausing to flip the lid staring at the chocolate diamond for a moment, till he feels you move soft hand coming to rest on his back. 

“Frankie?” Undertone of worry in your voice as you raise up on your knees waiting for him to turn and face you. Bottom lip caught between worrying teeth, fearful that you’ve said the wrong thing. Pushed him too far with the baby comments, Santi’s words coming back to you about marriage and asking Frankie first. Before thinking things through fully the words fall from your lips, “Marry me Morales?” 

“What?” Shock coloring his gasp, turning quickly to stare down at you. Swallowing hard, “What did you just ask me?” Trying to keep the box fisted in his hand so you can’t see it yet. 

Knowing there’s no reason for these feelings and thoughts to flow through your mind but his quick movements and no real answer causes the doubt to creep in. Eyes downcast not wanting to see the rejection in those chocolate pools you love so much. “I… I… I mean you don’t have to answer it’s just a silly question. I just thought,” biting you lip to keep the tears from slipping out of there ducts. 

“What silly question amor?” Fighting the urge to tip your chin up to see your beautiful face. Frankie waits and when you don’t answer he opens his fist in front of you. Flipping the box open, “You mean this question mi vida?” 

Gasping, eyes landing on the beautiful ring nestled into the plush black velvet, “Frankie?” Hands coming up to cover your mouth as tears slip free though they’ve changed to happiness as you stare up at him. 

“I wanted to ask you differently baby really I wanted to try something a little more romantic. Maybe candles and dinner, down the on one knee” rubbing the back of his neck scrambling for the right words.

“You mean,” hiccuping as a bright smile tugs your lip. “You didn’t plan on proposing to me naked right after we made love?” 

Rolling his eyes at your snark, free hand coming over to brush your tears away and cupping your cheek, breath catching when you place your own hand on top. Nuzzling the palm and placing a kiss to the center, “You deserve better, something special, flowers and chocolates and music playing. Not us naked…” 

Watery happy smile, placing your other hand over his mouth a moment, “Crap I don’t need Frankie I only want you and Isabella, you’re my life.” Taking a deep breath, scooting closer on your knees till your just a hairs breath away from him, “Yes.” 

“I haven’t asked you yet woman you can’t… wait what?” Chocolate eyes shocked wide by that simple little word. He’d hoped you’d say yes, dreamed of it from the moment he fell in love with you. But to hear you say yes still stole his breath and any other words he’d planned to say. 

Soft giggles leave your lips, dropping your eyes down to the ring box in his hand and back up to his. Wrapping your arm around his neck to pull his forehead down to yours, carding through the short curls at the back of his head. “Then you better ask me flyboy so you can make an honest woman out of me in case you’ve knocked me up.” 

“God sweetheart,” eyes slipping closed for a moment just breathing in your scent and warmth, savoring you, for a few heart beats, until he finally gather’s his wits. “Marry me amor, become my wife mother to Isabella and as many more child’s as you want. I don’t want to live this life without you beside me, please marry me,” whispering he last three words. Heart thumping wildly, fearful it’s all a dream and he’ll wake up back in that rehab with no proper out look for his life. 

“Yes Fransisco, yes I’ll marry you, I love you baby. Though,” watching his eyes open to stare back, so many emotions filtering through those beautiful eyes. “I’m not giving birth to five children I’ll leave at least two for you to push out of your dick.” 

Gruff laughter leaves his lips, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you against him, crashing your lips together in a hard, desperate kiss. Ring forgotten till it slips from his fingers in a bid to cup your ass and press you closer. 

“We can have as many children as you want amor,” unwrapping his arms to bring the box back to show you. Plucking the band from its snuggled confines. He grasps your left hand bringing it to his lips and kissing the ring finger. Keeping his eyes locked with yours while slipping it on your fourth digit, before dropping to look. “Prefect fit.” 

“Just like us,” leaning in to brush your lips over Frankie’s. Smirk gracing your features, “Remember we already have four kids and Isabella’s the mature one.” 

Deep happy laughter leaves Frankie’s chest, arms going back around your waist to haul you against his body. Properly sitting with his back against the couch, cradling you in his arms, playful smile on his lips, “Shame that three of them still need house broken.”

“Frankie,” your laughter joining his as you straddle his thighs settling in his lap. Letting your mirth simmer while looking at your ring, still unable to believe you’re gonna be married. “Pinch me,” soft yelp leaves you, trying to summon a glare to direct his way but failing miserably. 

“What you asked me to pinch you cariño,” soothing the pain he gave to your ass with the palm of his hand, cupping both generous globes to pull your pelvis flush with his. “Don’t worry I’ll kiss and make it all better baby unless you want something different.” Remembering the way you curved into his hand when he spanked you earlier. The memory of how tightly your quivering cunt gripped his cock, makes a moan leave his lips. Cock throbbing against your slick folds, demanding attention from the moment you straddled his thighs. 

Experimentally smacking your ass feeling you quake against him, breath hitching in your throat chocking off a moan. “Frankie,” rocking your hips against his growing shaft. Feeling his fingers dip between your folds finding you soaked and throbbing. 

“Like that don’t you baby, like when I smack this beautiful ass of yours,” low growl leaving his lips that attack your neck. Drawing another whimper of need from deep with in your body. “I know you do, can feel it you’ve soaked my fingers and I’ve barely touched you.” 

Rubbing your nose against his neck breathing in his scent mixed with the heady scent of sex and sweat. Amazed how he’s flipped from the sweet Frankie to sexual beast mode in seconds. “Don’t tease handsome please,” whimpering, all thought leaving your mind except for the way Frankie’s talented fingers feel. Strumming your body like a master to drag out moans and whines of pleasure. 

“As you wish amor,” slipping inside of you slowly, gritting his teeth at the tight squeeze of your walls. “I’m warning you now we’re not getting any sleep tonight baby. I’m gonna have you on every surface of this house I can.” 

Smirking, “Promises, promises Morales,” pulling back to stare into his molten chocolate eyes. “Actions,” gasping when he pulls half way out and thrusts back home. Hitting your g-spot, his pelvis moving to rub against your clit deliciously making stars shoot across your vision. Trying to form the rest of the words to tease him, “Speak louder than,” soft scream leaving when he dips to the side rolling the two of you so he’s hovering over you. 

Grasping your thighs to push them against your chest, pushing his cock ever deeper inside your depths. Eyes rolling back missing the smirk on his plush lips, “You’re saying amor?” Wedging his upper body between your thighs, legs draped over his shoulders, his knees braced apart for stability. Hovering over you with hands gripping your ass to lift a fraction off the ground and start a punishing pace. 

Making good on that truth, neither of you getting much rest that night. Finally eating dinner around mid-night, thankful that Frankie had turned the oven off earlier in the evening. Rewarding him for his thoughtfulness with a blowjob at the dinner table, making good use of the Reddi-whip. In turn Frankie snatched up what was left of the pie having a second helping of his dessert, with you spread out over the kitchen table. 

Reliving that moment in your mind you don’t hear the question Santi asks. Only breaking out of the smirk causing memory when Frankie places his hand on your thigh giving a squeeze. Looking from him back to Santi, “Hmm,” clearing your throat with a sip of coffee. “I’m sorry Pope what did you ask?” 

Chuckling, “Off daydreaming again cariño, hope it’s as good as the smirk on your face.” Lifting a dark brow, Pope watches you for a moment catching the subtle shift of your body, Frankie’s cheeks dusting red. Guessing the two of you spent much of the night and early morning celebrating. If the marks littering the both of you indication anything accompanied by the way your both leaning against each other. 

Thankful he called before driving over with Isabella and eager to hear weather you said yes. Though he knew better than anyone the answer which becomes confirmed while you hugging Will, chocolate diamond glinting in the sunlight filtering through the front door. After a round of hugs, claps on the back and congratulations along with very happy giggles from Isabella everyone settled in the kitchen for coffee. 

Drawing your thoughts back from this morning smirk only growing on your face, Frankie leans over, seeing the intent in your side profile, “Don’t do it hermosa.” Warning growl in his tone, hand still on your thigh giving a harder squeeze. Isabella’s little giggles the only answer he receives to the warning, wrapped in her mother’s arms and oblivious to everything except playing with your hair. 

“Well Santiago if you must know it’s even better,” chuckling evilly when Frankie groans head landing on your shoulder. Blindly reaching over to cover Isabella’s ears. “Just reliving late last night when Frankie got to have his second dessert.” 

Confused for a second, eyes widening comically as he looks from you to the table place he’s currently sitting at and back. “Your telling me,” words sputtering out as he pushes violently backward, chair scratching across the tiled floor. “You could’ve warned a guy Y/N,” shaking his head in part disgust and part amusement. “Tell me you at least disinfected it before we sat down?”

Shrugging, “Where’s the fun in that Pope, besides it’s only fair after all Frankie got to see the stars right there in that chair first.” Licking your lips glancing at both Will and Benny who haven’t caught on yet. The harsh crash of his chair makes you bust out laughing, holding onto the table for support and cleaving into Frankie who’s red as a tomato. 

“That’s just… fucking hell,” wiping at this ass and thighs like there’s something there. 

Confused till he looked between the two of you, the table and Santiago. Deep groan leaving his lips as he head comes down to rest in his hands, “We eat on this table now it has to be burned.” 

“What? Why?” Thinking for a second, comprehension clicking into place Benny jumps up scrubbing his hands along his pant legs. “That’s just wrong so fucking wrong now I have that in may head to. I take back the marriage proposal Y/N, Frankie can have you.” Though the grin on his lips speaks differently. It however doesn’t reach his normally expressive eyes. Hiding a secret he’s kept buried for far to long knowing now there’s no chance of it coming to the light of day. 

“How generous of you Benjamin,” playfully rolling your eyes, giggling when you look at Frankie seeing his eyes have narrowed on his friend. You lean over, “No worries flyboy you know you’re the only one.” 

Chuckling he places a kiss to your cheek giving you a wink, “I know.” Standing to round the table, “So you proposed to my girl huh?” Trying to infuse a touch of anger to his tone that fails miserably with the grin on his lips. “Dude what happened to the code of friendship huh?”

Stepping back, hands up in mock surrender, playful grin o his chapped lips. “You know I didn’t mean it like that Fish, Y/N’s a sister to me.” Words tasting and sounding bitter to his own ears. Looking too Will and Santi for help, finding none except fake disapproving frowns, arms crossed. Glancing at you and Isabella with a pleading look getting no help. 

“Shit,” little voice speaking into the silence every set of adult eyes land on her, giggling follows with little claps of her hands before burying her face in your chest shyly. 

Peels of laughter ring out around the kitchen Will beating the table with his fist, head hanging with broad shoulders twitching. Benny and Frankie leaning on each other as tears of mirth slip down their cheeks, Pope leaning against the island to stay standing up right his own body shaking in laughter. While you hold her close laughing, shaking your head at the sight of your family. “Your daddy and uncles are silly little one,” kissing her forehead locking eyes with Frankie when he turns to you. Seeing the love saturating those chocolate eyes, soft grin pulling at his lips. 

“I love you mi alma’s,” playfully pushing Benny from his shoulder to come around and kiss both your foreheads. 

Reaching up to cup his cheek, bringing him down to touch your lips together in a tender kiss, “I love you to my real soon to be husband.”  

Sure you still read get carried away into another world of your books. However, not so deeply that you neglect your husband’s needs and wants along with your own. Besides you know he’s so much better than any old book boyfriend.

THE END 

[saturatedboy]

The Paw of a Lion (Ethan!Winters x Karl!Heisenberg)

This can be found on my AO3 page (Use title name)

Word count: 4.5K

Chapter 2 is below cut

The car journey had been rather unpleasant much to Mr Winter’s taste. He normally wasn’t picky but the scent on the car was hurting him and making him feel slightly sick in the stomach. Was he still panic-stricken? He stared down at Rose in his arms, fast asleep with a monkey toy in her clutch. No. He wouldn’t let himself be scared after the car wreckage he went through, instead he’d brushed it off as simple homesickness since the new home was in a neighbourhood filled with those who he was sure to ‘get along’ with well. ‘We will be home soon Rose.’ The blonde thought, turning his direction of gaze to stare at the passing trees. “How long left?” The question slipped through his lips, waiting for an answer off one of the agents that had taken the unoccupied seats around him. Luckily for him, he got the window seat and he did feel a little smug about it.

“There in 5 minutes Mr Winters.” The driver replied, adjusting the mirror at the front to get a better look at the apparent ‘bio weapon’ that was sitting in his car. Ethan looked to be just a normal guy with a daughter, there was no physical difference to him than any other ordinary guy. Well- except from the fact there was scars littering his body on his arms mostly, and the loss of his fingers.

Clicking his tongue and wetting his lips, Ethan sighed and leaned his head against the window having the same sickness feeling wash over him. He just wanted out, to feel fresh air and the ground and to hear something else than the music the agents were playing. Fortunately for him, the rest of the journey was swift and soon the car had rounded off in between trees that had a large dirt road leading further into the mass of woods that seemed to appear as he was just about to doze off. Having a spiked interest in the change of scenery, Ethan pushed himself of the window and looked about. Tall trees hung overhead, turning their leaves into a range of the sunset colours with small flowers blooming and dying mixed together in the grass that settled among the sides of the track the car was driving on. It looked, dare he say, peaceful. How ironic, having a bunch of bio weapons staying in a peaceful area. This was sure to be no peaceful stay if he was going to be surrounded with neighbours off different kinds.

Driving down the path had led them into a circled area, with buildings surrounding the outside edge. The car drove clockwise around the circle, Ethan looking towards the middle the whole way. There appeared to be a small park area settled there Ethan had guessed in the middle of the whole site. It held three benches, a small climbing frame as well as a set of swings. ‘I’m sure the Dimitrescu daughters will enjoy there,’ The father had thought, looking down at Rose with a smile taking hold of his lips. “And I’m sure you will too when you’re a little older.” Luckily no one heard him talk to his dear daughter as the music was still playing, loudly.

Placing his sight back onto the buildings, he saw a mixture of them. There appeared to be 5 houses in total, and he had a fair guessed of whose house was who. The first house was a very large one, elegantly painted in white with a very tall front door. The place had pillars outside it and it seemed to have a total of three floors. At the top there was a balcony that looked to reach around the whole house. Driving past it, Ethan could see the three daughters and their mother stepping out of the car, Bella being the first to run straight into the home.

The next house was a bungalow, making the house to its left (from Ethan’s view) more towering than it seemed. The house was simple, having brick walls and small round windows. What made the place stand out on its own was the moat that built around it. A fucking moat. “Moreau house,” Ethan mumbled, a small strike of cold shifting down his spine at the thought of when he had to fight him and how the other would be constantly throwing up. Unpleasant memories to put it.

The next house, this was the centre house that was splitting the 5 houses, was a really nice modern blue house, having two floors and a porch. The car had stopped right In front of the front porch and the agents had begun to move out of the car after it was securely parked. “Hey Rose,” Ethan whispered down to his once sleeping daughter, awaken at the call of her name and her father's voice. With grabby hands and a tired smile, she reached out to take hold of her father in any way, shape or form. Carefully unwrapping her from his coat, Ethan took his daughter into his arms and reached to open his door only to have an agent open it for him. He stepped out, nodding a thanks in return and looked towards what appears to be their new home. “Look Rosie, this is out new home. You like the baby blue hm?” He asked, seeing his daughter babble random noises and have pleased eyes. Some on-looking agents that were travelling him had silently cooed at Rose’s reaction, looking towards one another with scrunched eyes and happy smirks on their faces. Placing her on his hips, Ethan walked up to the front porch and looked back to see the view. It wasn’t too bad...he could probably make a living of being here. Looking to his left, he looked towards the other two houses. A frustrated sigh left his lips.

The house to the left was two floors like his own, only difference being it had a garage connected to it and the windows were boarded up. “It seemed Mr Heisenberg doesn’t particularly like the light,” An agent pointed out to Ethan as they caught him staring.

“Makes sense.” Ethan replied back, looking towards the last house. The last house was also a bungalow; however, it had a garden with a fence surrounding it. The fence was a deep brown and the garden had a small tree already growing within its square. “I’m sure Lady Beneviento would be there every day.”

Hearing Rose’s babbling had Ethan brought Ethan to coo at his daughter, bringing her to nest smugly in his arms instead of his hip. Holding her close, Ethan walked up to his door and let the agents open it. Inside the home was fairly empty but he could've guessed that before even entering the place. “We will leave you be. Any supplies needed or anything changing just contact us on the home phone settled in the kitchen. You are not allowed to leave this area unless orders of Redfield have been given out. Welcome to you brand new home.” The agent who had been driving Ethan and his daughter there had spoken, signalling the other agents that had decided to walk in after Ethan back out of the house. Being quick to accept orders, they left Ethan to standing in the open hallway of his house. The car leaving was the last Ethan heard before accepting the silence of the new place.

“What do you think Rose, think we’ll like it here?” His eyes caught the stairway that led straight to the second floor on his right, with two doors on the left in his eye sight. More babbling came from Rose as she tried to give her father an answer which Ethan accepted with a laugh. “Yes, you are right my little cub. We should see what we are working with.”

It had been a total of three hours before Ethan had got himself comfortable in front of the television on the couch. It seemed the whole place was coated in the paint of blue and white. It was a fitting theme Ethan had thought, however he felt Rose’s room should maybe be painted a different colour. Maybe yellow, maybe green- he'll ask for paint when he needed to. So far, the father had discovered there was warm water, heater was working however it seemed to be on a timer, there was a master bedroom and a baby room right next door on the second floor, the kitchen had been stocked with what seemed to be a month worth of food and there was a living room along with a study room that was filled with books from his last home.

Last home.

He spent a while fixing that place up with his wife Mia...Ex-wife Mia. The place was their dream home, something they planned for a while into their marriage and they had finally got it, finally settled down-all for it to be taken away because of lies. Ethan had laid on his back, arm draped over his forehead as he looked up at the ceiling. The material of the couch under him felt perfect, he could doze of there and then but until he had a baby monitor, he wouldn't be sleeping downstairs until he knew he could be there for Rose in her need. Without realising it, the father had begun to voice out his thoughts to no one but the empty sound of his home.

“I wonder how she is- ha! What am I thinking? She’s going to hate the idea of a divorce. She should be thankful I even let her near our daughter after all this shit. She’s one lucky woman.” A ragged breath forcefully came out of his throat startling Ethan. Leaning up, legs sprawled on the other cushions of the couch, he lunched forward and began to cough into his right hand. Closing his eyes, he could feel a thick substance coat his hand as he coughed into it. Making sure he had his breathing under control, he cautiously opened his eyes to find black substance covering his hand. No- not substance. He knew exactly what it was.  Mold was covering his arm. “Oh, for fuck's sake,” He breathed out, swinging his legs so he could stand and go wash the substance off him.  

Whilst making his way to the kitchen at a brisk pace, it had appeared the Mold was growing further up his arm. Raising a brow and having a feel of sickness was over him again, he collided against the edge of the sink and began to turn the taps to run the water over his arm, watching as Mold fell into the drain below. Strange, the Mold wasn’t coming off his skin. It was like it was a part of his skin. Reaching for the wash cloth with his other hand, Ethan scrubbed hard against his skin seeing the Mold not disappearing any time soon. ”What the!” The exclaim that left his lips had him scarping the cloth against his skin, digging in with his nail and scratching away. Nothing. The black oozed more over until his full arm had become a midnight black. “No, no no no,” The words fell onto the deaf ears of the world around him as he collapsed to the floor, tap still rushing with gushing water and his back touching the cabinets that were sitting underneath.

The sickness that rotted over him fell deep into his stomach, twisting and playing with his intestines. A few dry coughs sent Ethan to feel a lot warmer than normal. He felt like the room he had settled in, the kitchen, had become as hot as the oven that was switched off. His sight became blurred, and the noise of his child was heard faintly in the back of his head. “Rose,” He breathed out, tears stinging his eyes as he let his head fall onto his shoulder. "I need to calm down Rose,” he told himself, as though the Mold covering him could understand him. He could feel it growing, taking his limbs into their own care and covering the skin of his with a protected layer of their own. Weirdly though, it seemed to only cover his arm and the top of his chest. Was this a good thing, or a bad thing? He didn’t know. He didn’t want to know. He just wanted to hold his young one, to make sure she knows she is safe.

The cries from the baby had increased, sounding more like a tantrum then just a sadness cry. Ethan pulled his legs to his stomach, trying to steady his breathing and clear his sight of the tears that leaked. It wasn’t till he felt the Mold settle down that he could finally move without feeling like spewing whatever food he last ate. Noticing the change of temperature around him, it being settled to a warm but slightly chilly feeling, he made a quick dash for the stairs that were in the open hallway. He moved swiftly on his feet, not wanting to take any chances of falling ill to the Mold before he could reach his crying Rose.

Scrambling up the stairs, Ethan had busted into his daughter room startling the child more than she appeared to be. “Aw no baby, I’m sorry,” He softly spoke, hurrying to pick her up out of a white crib she was nestled in and taking her into his arms. Being thoughtful with is movements, Ethan cradled her head with one hand and settled her body onto his other arm that was still covered in the Mold to keep support of her. “I’m sorry. Oh, baby papa is sorry. Shh, shh, It’s okay. We will be okay,” He repeated, cooing into his daughter’s ear to help her slow her own breathing. The small bounces he gave and the cradling movements of his body was luckily enough to help her stop crying, the odd sniffle taking out of her mouth instead. “There we go, we are okay. I’m sorry Rose. Shh, we will be okay.” Little Rose had held tightly onto her father’s clothing, smelling the familiar scent of him. She rested her own eyes, her cries making her tired then she had already been in the car and before. “That’s it,” Ethan whispered, “Just sleep my little cub. I’m here now, papa is here.” His voice had soothed her down greatly, the voice bringing her to sleep once more before she was drifted deeply off into her mind.

A dry cry came from Ethan’s mouth as he placed her back into her crib, pulling a blanket and pushing her money toy close to her sleeping body. He stood over her crib, watching the chest of his daughter fall and rise. She was at peace, something she so should always be at. Being a single father was going to hit Ethan hard, if he was down there dealing with the Mold then who knows what he could be dealing with next. He made a mental note to get baby monitors for every single room.

It had been another 4 hours before a knock had awoken Ethan from his lightly sleep. He groggily opened his eyes and looked around, seeing he was leaning his head on the kitchen table. Next to him was his laptop as well as a cup of what he guessed to be a now cold coffee, untouched either way. Checking his arm, the Mold had disappeared as he slept. It was after he placed Rose to sleep, he had come downstairs to turn the tap off and steal a book from his study to do some more research on engineering. He just wanted a normal life as soon as possible, the memories of his job at engineering brought great pleasure to his mind of living normally, a feeling he was already missing and it had just been over a day since he last felt like it.

Brushing a hand down his face and scuffing up his hair, Ethan pushed himself out from under the table and stood up, hearing his bones cracking the process. The feeling was great but the noise was uncomfortable to his ears. Hearing the knocking again, Ethan groaned loudly and exited his kitchen, still hearing the knocking. “What,” He groaned out loudly, the empty space of the hallway making his voice bounce about. The knocking had stopped for a second, only to repeat again. “Oh, go to Hell,” Ethan shouted, hearing the knocks stop for a second time. Smiling, Ethan made his way to his front door, hand placed around the handle. Just as he was about to pull the door open, the knocking once again started again. “I’m going to fucking kill you- Heisenberg what do you want?” Just as the blonde pulled the door, there stood the factory man with a bright smile and hand raised after his activities of knocking.

“Hey there papa, missed me much?” He amused, flashing a smile at the other. Ethan stood, hand still on his door handle looking down at the gruff man. His appearance looked worse than he last saw him at the meeting. He was now all sweaty with droplets pouring off him like a dripping tap, oil was staining his shirt he wore and his hands had become thick with saw dust. A sigh left Ethan’s lips as he moved himself o rest against his door frame.

“What you need?” Heisenberg blinked at Ethan, before whistling a tune. “If you not going to answer, I’ll be going, Goodbye Heisen-”

“Wait!” The voice from Heisenberg had stopped Ethan's movements of walking back inside. Hating himself for still wanting to feel kind to the other, Ethan looked back at the man who looked desperate to say something, a pleading stance of clasp hands looking up at Ethan had the father feeling a little weak.

“What?” He asked, waiting for Heisenberg's reply.  

“I was wondering...” He started, looking around him as though he didn’t want anyone to hear his next words, “That maybe we should start calling each other by our first names.” The request left Ethan speechless, he stood with furrowed brows trying to read the other. What exactly was he planning?

“First names? Now why would we need to do that?” Ethan crossed his arms over his chest, watching Heisenberg huff and look away.

“Because we are neighbours duh? Makes sense. Does it not.” Ethan would have smacked him if it wasn’t the fact he was somewhat right. Uncrossing his arms and rolling his eyes, Ethan nodded at Heisenberg.

“Alright then, what do I call you and the others?” Heisenberg had immediately brightened up, taking a brave move of turning around and sitting on the porch step.  

“Easy! You can call me Karl,” he said, pointing a hand at himself as he looked over his shoulder to see Ethan shutting the door behind himself. He waited for Ethan to sit, to which he had to pat the open space next to him for the father to do so. After Ethan had made himself comfortable with legs straight out In front of him and sat at an arm's length away from Heisenberg, the other had carried on. “Dimitrescu, you can call her super-mega bitch. Next is Moreau. Just call him ugly. And lastly is Beneviento. Just call her Donna because she is somewhat decent and call that wretched thing that moves and talks, sawdust.”  

Ethan had sniffled back a small chuckle at hearing Heisenberg talk. He’ll get the other’s names later, their proper names when he has the chance. “How about I call you the guy who carries a hammer to compensate for something else.” Heisenberg lightly gasp at Ethan’s words, looking over at him with an open mouth.

“How dare you,” He spoke, expressing his offensives to his words. Ethan couldn’t help but allow himself his release of a laugh, finding the moment rather...amusing to be with the factory man. “I would never take you to by a guy like that...to make jokes.” Heisenberg pulled out a cigar from his pants pocket, only to fetch in his other a lighter. Ethan watched as he lit it, suddenly being annoyed with the habit of seeing the man with one. Leaning over, Ethan plucked the cigar from the man's lips and threw it out on the dirt road in front of them. “Oi, what you do that for,” Heisenberg asked, pointing at his cigar a few meters in front of them.

“I have a child, no smoking in or even near my house.” The air around them both changed slightly, dark clouds overhead had slowly begun to invade the space of the blue that was once there. It seemed the sound around them had soon tried to settle in. “I do enjoy making jokes,” Ethan broke the starting silence between them, wanting to keep this conversation going before the upcoming rainfall would ruin it.

“You should act more like that then- seeing you all stuck up is worse than seeing the tree trunk try think of a new name for her new wine.” The older man groaned out, looking at the other once again.  

“I’m just being careful of my kid. I can’t let her be hurt again.”

“You can still be protective and let go of yourself.” The older flicked open the lighter that he had still had in his hand and placed it between them both. Ethan watched as the flame danced, standing at a reasonable height. “See, the flame is surrounded by the wind yet it will stay standing because it has the fuel to do so. Look, it even follows the movements of the world around it. You have the fuel to protect the squirt.” Heisenberg flicked the top of his lighter back down, stuffing it back into his pants pocket before turning back to the other with a small grin. “And you can still let loose. Even if the wind does pick up,” Heisenberg had moved rapidly, wrapping his arm around the young male���s shoulder and brought him into his side. “I’ll be there to shield it.”

Such words and non-thoughtful actions had brought Ethan to look down at his hands. He could feel the burn of his cheeks and the smile that was pulling on the edge of his lips to raise. This. This was weirdly nice, to know someone was there. But that’s what Mia, Redfield and many others had said to him before in the past. “Promise me,” Ethan breathed out, looking up at Karl. Karl raised a brow and tilted his head slightly.

“Promise what?”

“Promise you’ll always be there. And you can’t break that!” Ethan’s tone caught Karl off guard, to the point he had accidently shifted his arm off Ethan’s shoulder and let it fall to the wood just behind him. He swore he caught a glimpse of guilt flash over Ethan’s eyes before his pupils went back to staring at the darkness of his shades sitting comfortable against his eyes.

“Ethan,“ Karl swallowed deeply, noticed by his adman's apple jumping. He didn’t like promises. Never in his life did he have to promise something to someone else. This was big commitment. ‘Promises don’t break. Ethan trusts me to not break something’ he told himself before sighing into the cold air. Using the arm that was behind Ethan, he pulled it around and took Ethan’s chin into his hand. “I promise I’ll always be there. I’m your neighbour, you ain’t getting rid of me that easily.” He said, laughing as hr watched as dread appeared quickly on Ethan’s face.

“Oh great, looking forward to it,” Ethan had sarcastically said, smacking Karl’s hand away from his face but letting the smile dance across his face. “Thanks though, if you break it, I will not hesitate to ask ‘mega-bitch’ to be there for me.”

“Ey, I said I’ll be there. Anyway, I would do a so much better job than her,” Heisenberg said defensively, huffing and pouting that Ethan would go to her than him. “Just you watch,” He sneered, pointing at the Dimitrescu house in a violent manner, “I’ll be a whole lot better than her.”

Ethan placed his hand on the outstretch hand of the fourth lord, pushing it down gently so it rested between them both n the wooden planks beginning to stain from the rain gathered by the wind. He hadn’t realised he left his hand on top of Heisenberg’s as he spoke, however the other was ecstatic over the fact he felt his hand. “I won’t ask her then. Can’t believe I’m saying this but this your first step of gaining my trust that you want oh so badly,” Ethan teased, looking back to the world in front of them.

“You’ll see. I’ll gain more than just your trust.” Heisenberg peered down at their hands, making sure Ethan didn’t noticed and let out a soft happy hum. This was the first step, he would gain Ethan’s trust and then next, he would gain Ethan’s appreciation. For now, he was fine with this. He looked forward too, after tearing his gaze from their connected hands almost and watched as the rain droplets began to pick up.

“Well,” Ethan was the first to speak, standing up to his feet. Karl pouted at the loss of contact but also stood up, feeling excited on what the father would want to do next. “This has been fun. Now go home.” Or maybe not excited.

“Why? can't I hang here?” Karl pouted, trying to make Ethan feel guilty.  

“You want my trust? Go home and don’t make yourself sick. I suppose you can call me, seemingly they just give out numbers on paper without consent.” Ethan clicked his tongue in annoyance, he was sure Moreau had already tried calling him a total of 5 time today in the space of three house, trying to talk his way of how happy he was Ethan saved them all. If only he could block numbers on the rotary phone.

“Okay fine. But you owe me at least a 2 hour call.”

“You get 30 minutes and that’s it.”

“1 hour call.”

“Don’t push you luck...1 hour and 30 minutes and that’s it.” Karl did a mini-fist pump into the air and nodded eagerly. Ethan chuckled and looked away shaking his head watching as Karl tilted his hat down, a way of saying ‘bye’ to the other and made his way of the porch.

“Good talking with you Ethan! Can’t wait for tonight!” He hollered out over his shoulder as he made his way towards his own home, only turning around hallway to see that the Winter male had disappeared already into his home. Feeling very satisfied with his days' work, and it only being the first day, he looked down at his hand and held it in his other, trying to recreate the feeling of when Ethan had placed his hand on top of his.  

“I really am touched starved.” he said before walking straight into his front door.

[whenitcounts33]

last name (1)

Summary: When Alice and Bella dragged Rose to Vegas to celebrate graduation, Rose never imagined anything actually happening like in the movies. Then she wakes up the morning before they leave, married to the very good looking man from the bar. 

Rose bit her lip, cringing when the plane's wheels touched down on the tarmac and sent up a thank-you to whatever God was listening. Flying was the worst way to travel in her book and she hoped she could talk Alice and Bella into letting her drive back to Seattle. She knew it wasn't likely, but a girl could dream. 

Alice turned around in her seat to grin at Rose, earning a grimace from her best friend. Bella, sitting next to Rose, rolled her eyes and elbowed the blonde playfully. "It wasn't that bad, Ro," she said with a smile. 

Rose glowered and held out her hand to show Bella the half-moon marks her nails left in her palms. "Over-dramatic," Bella said helpfully, making Rose snort. She was right, of course, but Rose wouldn't admit it. 

"Maybe," she allowed, standing up when prompted and stretching her arms above her head. "I'm just glad Bella's bad luck didn't strike the plane down." Bella glared at her, and at Alice when she laughed, muttering "har har" under her breath.

They made their way off the plane and to the luggage claim, Alice chattering a mile a minute about their plans. "Check-in at the hotel is at 11:30 and we have reservations for dinner at 6," she paused for breath, cheeks pink with excitement. "Tomorrow we have a date with the strip and sight-seeing. Dinner at 6 again." 

Rose gave a non-committal hum, grabbing her bag when she saw it. Alice and Bella grabbed theirs and Alice grabbed onto both of them, towing them along towards the automatic doors of the exit. 

The awfully hot air of the dessert hit her in the face like a brick and Rose immediately started to sweat. "Why did we have to come here again?" She demanded as they waited for the large family ahead of them to get into the minivan taxi waiting at the curb. 

Alice gave her a glare that would have sent a weaker person running but Rose was used to her and just glared back. "You are going to have fun Rosalie Hale, or so help me," she warned, a small finger poking into Rose's chest. "We are finally finished with school and we are going to celebrate!" 

Rose fought back a small smile, and nodded for Alice's benefit. "Yeah, yeah," she muttered, brushing Alice away with a flick of her wrist. 

Bella watched them with a small smile, amused by their antics and knowing nothing Rose said or did would change the plans. Alice was a force to be reckoned with and Bella, and Rose, knew to just lay back and let Hurricane Alice go down it's path. Though that never stopped Rose from teasing her best friend when she got a tad bit out of control and or enthusiastic. 

The hotel was a block away from the strip and two nightclubs, huge and intimidating with the bright lights and people streaming in and out. Rose welcomed the AC with a sigh of relief, letting the cold air raise goosebumps on her arms and shoulders. She fluffed out her hair, wincing at the sweat wetting it and the back of her neck. "Couldn't have picked out a cooler climate, Al?" She asked, already knowing the answer. "Like maybe the Antarctic?" 

Alice ignored her, stomping towards the front desk, mumbling under her breath about ungrateful friends and how they are traitors that don't know how to have a good time. 

The lobby was huge, with shops and restaurants and big flat screen TVs with couches and armchairs everywhere. Rose thought it was too much, but what did she know of interior design? 

Bella was watching her, a crease over her brown eyes and a frown on her lips. It was a look she got every time Rose and Alice butted heads. Or when her boyfriend, Edward, was being melodramatic and over the top. Which was all the time. 

"Just try to have fun," Bella told her, tugging on a lock of Rose's hair with a smile. "Alice really wants to do this and it won't hurt to have a small vacation, just us girls." Rose sighed, knowing Bella was right, and nodded. "I'll try," she promised, letting Bella tug her towards the front desk where Alice was. 

It's not that she didn't want to have a girls-vacation, Rose was just really excited, and anxious, to start her new job. She fought so hard for this, to show the men that she deserved a spot in the "boys club" of mechanics. She wanted to show them that she could be just as good, better even, than all of them combined. 

The room, a suite really, was quite nice. Bigger than her whole apartment, and better furnished. She dropped onto the large bed with a sigh and spread out her arms and legs so she took up the whole mattress. It felt heavenly against her body and the sheets smelled like lavender. She could hear Bella and Alice walking around, oohing and aww-ing at everything. 

She sat up after a moment, blinking to wake herself back up. They could see the strip from the balcony, the light and signs dazzling and hard to miss. She missed Seattle, with it's muted colors and smaller buildings. She missed her small apartment and the diner two blocks away with the amazing coffee and omelets. 

"Get a grip, Rose," she muttered under her breath, shaking her head. No need to feel home-sick, she'd be back home in four-days, all snuggled up in her own bed. She watched Bella look at herself in the mirror in the bathroom, pursing her lips and shaking out her hair. Alice was somewhere in the living room, stuffing luggage under the coffee table. 

"We can stay in the hotel for now, then leave at 5:20 to get to the restaurant." Alice was saying, now in the bathroom and putting all their toiletries in a neat little line for later use. "I wanna see the little boutique they have in the lobby," Bella interjected, sitting on the bed next to Rose. "It was cute," Rose agreed, shrugging. She wouldn't buy anything though, knowing stores in hotels always over charged everything and Rose did not want this trip to put a considerable gap in her bank account. 

Her father made good money as a banker, but they were a middle-class family, not rich by any means but far from poor. Her mom came from nothing though and instilled it in her daughter to always make sure she had enough money to live off of in her accounts, no matter what happened. She raised Rose to appreciate every check and every coin. Rose lived by that rule and tried to never spend money on anything that she didn't truly need. Alice, who came from old money and never had to worry, always laughed when she heard that, but Bella, who was raised on a one-parent income, understood better than any of their other friends. 

"Boutique it is," Alice said, standing in front of them like a little tyrant, hands on her hips and a determined tilt to her head. 

On the third day Rose openly admitted that the trip had been a good idea and that Alice was right. Alice had made Rose repeat it all with her phone trained on her face as she was recorded. "For the next time we argue and you say I'm never right," is what Alice had said to justify it. Rose, tipsy and easily agreeable, had laughed and hugged Alice, thanking her for forcing her to Vegas. 

They were at a nightclub a few blocks from the hotel, hips swaying to the music and alcohol running through their veins. Rose felt warm, like someone had lit a match and set her blood on fire. It was a good warmth, one that started in her chest and went through her arms to her fingertips, down her chest and into her legs. Her head felt fuzzy and everything was bright and loud, calling to her like a siren song to keep on dancing and drinking. 

She could feel someone watching her, the hair on the back of her neck standing up and the skin erupting in goosebumps. Her adrenaline spiked, unbidden memories bubbling up to the surface and she turned slowly, nails digging into her skin hard enough to hurt.

There were so many people in the club that it took her a minute to see who her watcher was. She finally found him, standing at the bar, tall and built like a line-backer, all hard muscle with a handsome face. The fact that he was so handsome did not quell her fear, it made it worse because pretty boys knew they could get away with more. It made them cruel. 

The guy flushed, fair cheeks turning pink, when his eyes met hers and he realized he'd been caught staring. Rose watches him look away, biting his lower lip. His dark curls are sweaty, flopping down onto his forehead and sticking to the back of his neck. It makes her feel safer when he doesn't try to come over to her or stare at her again. She tells herself that he had just been spaced-out, merely looking in her direction, not at her. Lord knows she's done that plenty of times. 

She tells herself later that it was the alcohol, not him being not creepy, that moves her feet over to him. Through the throng of people, away from the safety of her friends who don't notice her leave, and towards the giant of a man. 

The smell of alcohol is stronger there, sharp and bitter and mixing with the salty tang of sweat, and her nose wrinkles against it. The guy turns his head to look at her when he notices a new person. His eyes are brown, reminding her of the forest surrounding Washington, and he has a very nice smile. Her heart flutters in response and she gives him a small smile back. 

"I'm Emmett and I am sorry for being a creep and staring at you. My Ma taught me better," he says, voice smooth like honey and deep. He has a Southern twang that makes his words rise and fall in weird places, but Rose likes it. "If you wanna hit me, that's perfectly fine ma'am, I can take it," he adds before Rose can say anything. He stands up straight, arms at his side like a soldier. He's so tall he's half a head over her five-foot-eight and she feels small near him, which she likes more than she thought she would. 

Rose let out a snort and he looked down at her so quickly he must have gotten whiplash. "I'm Rose and I won't hit you, my mom taught me better than that," she says, voice equals parts playful and haughty. 

He gives her a slow grin and her stomach flips itself at the same time her heart skyrockets. So pretty her mind whispered, noting how the smile makes his eyes crinkle and how the left side of his mouth rises higher than the right. 

"Well Rose," he says, and she tries to ignores the way his mouth wraps around her name, how pretty it sounds in that Southern twang. "Looks like I'll have to make it up to you in some other way." 

The way he says it is dangerous, like some dark promise he's bound to keep. But Rose isn't afraid. Not of Emmett, who thinks highly of his mom, who smiles with his whole being and blushes when he looks her right in the eye. 

So Rose smiles, and stands up to her full height so she can better look him in the eye. "Looks like it," she murmurs, and commits the happy gleam in his eyes to memory. 

[inmyownlittlecorner5]

Moonlight Chapter 21: Dust to Dust

A fanfic Novel by la-topolina

Rated for Mature Audiences

Warnings: Language, Violence, Sexual Content

Chapter 21/26

Moonlight Masterpost+

<< Chapter Twenty+

Chapter Twenty-Two+ >>

“Avada Kedavra!” A shock of acid green light blasted from Severus’s wand, striking its target with a sickening finality.

Bile rose in his throat as he stared down at the crumpled body of the old Muggle. He forced himself to slow his breathing as the nausea threatened to overtake him. Most of the time he was able to avoid murder. Sometimes he was even able to prevent it. Killing had never been particularly enjoyable to him, even when he had truly been what he pretended to be now. It was so wasteful.

“Finished already?” Lucius asked from the stairwell leading to the crumbling basement of the warehouse that was to be this unlucky group of Muggles’ tomb. His face was obscured by his etched silver mask, and a smaller Death Eater was on his heels. “I left that one specifically for you.”

Severus shrugged, his stomach mostly settled. “He was a good tailor. I thought he’d earned a quick death. Bella took more than a few bites out of him before you threw him down to me.”

“I think you’re getting soft, Snape,” hissed Bellatrix’s voice from behind her mask. “It’s no wonder that you are going to be left behind when…”

“Bella,” Lucius interrupted, “go upstairs and help Vincent with the rest of the mess.”

She gave Severus a final glare before flouncing away, her shoes clicking noisily on the metal staircase. Lucius continued into the basement, avoiding the heaps of rubbish littering the floor. He glanced indifferently at the corpse and prodded it with the tip of his polished shoe. Severus continued to force himself to breathe slowly as the bile rose up again, worse than before. It would not do to lose control in front of Lucius, so Severus willed himself to think of anything other than the current moment. Perhaps because he had been so stern during the last month about forgetting the scene by the Lee’s fireside, it immediately came to mind. He did not bother to question it, he merely allowed the warmth and comfort of the thought of Miranda holding the sleeping infant to flow through him. Gradually his nausea subsided, and he held onto his memory like a dragon clings to gold.

“I’m sure it will come as no surprise to you that the time has come for you to deliver your little plaything to the Dark Lord,” Lucius commented.

“Has it?” Severus hoped that he sounded as bored as he meant to. He was glad that his mask covered the twitching muscle in his jaw. “I am rather busy at the moment. A jaunt to Romania to subdue her would be impractical.”

“No doubt you have your ways. And fortunately for you, you have until Thursday to complete the task.”

“Why Thursday?”

“That is my business. Your business is to do as you are told. I doubt I need to explain the consequences if you fail to do so.”

“I understand you perfectly, Lucius.”

“I’m glad to hear it. Be so good as to clean up down here before you leave. Best that this look like a Muggle crime for the time being.”

Severus inclined his head to his ambivalent friend and Lucius started back up the stairs.

He paused halfway to add, “I am sorry to deprive you of your whore and your tailor in such rapid succession.”

“Of the two, the tailor will be the more difficult to replace.”

Lucius laughed. “Truer words were never spoken. What a cold bastard you are.”

Severus waited until Lucius was gone before stooping to close Mr. Frost’s eyes. It was not lost on Severus that his neighborhood and his neighbors had been targeted tonight. He knew a warning when he saw one. Lucius must be smarting under Miranda’s humiliations of him more than Severus had thought.

Merlin, he hated his life.

*****

Miranda dismounted easily and gave Balour a firm scratch just behind his purple, scaly ears. He snorted flames and rubbed against her appreciatively. She knew now just how to lean into him so that his affection wouldn’t knock her to the ground. It offended him when she stumbled under the weight of his mighty head. Although the second task was less than a week away, she felt they were more than ready to take on the mountain.

“Thanks for the ride,” Miranda murmured.

He nodded imperiously, and she waited politely until he had lumbered off for his lunch and afternoon doze. When he was out of sight, she started down the path to the locker-rooms and her own meal. As she approached the lake, she saw Charlie and another man coming around to meet her. Even from a distance, she could make out a long white beard and brightly colored robes. Miranda furrowed her brow. What was he doing here?

“How was the ride today?” Charlie asked as they met.

“Good. I think we’re ready,” Miranda replied. “Albus, what a nice surprise. How are you?”

“Well, very well,” Albus said. “Charlie, thank you for helping me locate our wayward American. I will speak with you in your office soon.”

Charlie accepted this dismissal, although his face bespoke his curiosity, and he headed back up the path. Albus waved his hand and a pair of the rocks bordering the lake shifted into a pair of comfortable armchairs, complete with umbrellas to shade them from the noonday sun. They seated themselves and Albus produced a basket from his robes. A pair of table legs popped out of it and, when he set it on the ground between them, it opened to an inviting spread of ham, watercress, plum cake, and butterbeer.

“All this for me? What do you want?” Miranda said wryly as she helped herself to the bounty. Dragon riding did tend to give her an appetite.

“Merely a concession to the time of day,” Albus reassured her as he did the same. “You look well. I take it that the Romanian climate is agreeing with you.”

“It’s a lovely place. Although I won’t be sorry to be released from it when this is all over. I’ve never liked being trapped anywhere.”

“Trapped is such a strong word.”

“What would you call it? I’m under the equivalent of the Unbreakable Vow.” She took a sip of her butterbeer. “But if I can help those children, it’ll be worth it.”

“Yes, you are quite a helpful person, as I have seen. Even if you are also rather a headstrong one.”

“There’s good and bad in all of us. So, what’s happened? Do you need me to take another vow?”

“Not exactly.  I don’t suppose that Severus has communicated with you about recent events regarding our friend, Lucius Malfoy?”

“Friend is not the descriptor I would have chosen. And no. I actually haven’t heard all that much from Severus since I visited in May. I assumed he was busy with the end of term troubles. But I take it something else is going on?”

Albus sighed. “Plum cake is a delightful confection, is it not?”

“It is.” Miranda raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

“Apparently Lucius is planning some large, and presumably unpleasant event that will occur this week on Thursday. He wishes for Severus to have you on hand to bring to Tom.”

“Tom?”

“Pardon me, Tom Riddle is the true name of Lord Voldemort. At least, that is how I knew him when he was a student. Old habits die hard.”

“It’s good to know that Hogwarts turns out such promising pupils.”

“Everyone comes from somewhere. Alas, I cannot take credit for some of Tom’s more, shall we say, impressive accomplishments.”

“I assumed as much. This is the first I’ve heard about Malfoy’s plans. Why am I hearing it from you and not Severus?” The hair on the back of her neck pricked her in warning. She did not like the direction this conversation appeared to be headed.

“I believe that Severus wishes for you to remain ignorant.”

“Then how is he going to introduce me to his other boss?”

“I believe that he does not intend to do so.”

Miranda frowned. The plum cake no longer tasted quite so good, and she pushed her plate away.

“This is a test, isn’t it?” she asked.

“A test for whom?” Albus responded. His face was pleasant and inscrutable, and his tone was incongruously cheerful.

“I’m guessing it’s a test for both of us. Malfoy and the Dark Lord want proof that Severus is on their side, and you want proof that I’m on your side.”

“I’ve always thought that you were a clever young lady.”

“Thanks.” She choked down another sip of butterbeer and twirled the bottle slowly between her fingers. “If Severus doesn’t bring me to Tom, as you call him, they’re going to kill him, aren’t they?”

“That is entirely within the realm of possibility. Of course, I do understand that Severus is not the most pleasant individual and he may not have secured your loyalty to the point that you would feel the need to walk into the lion’s den for him.”

Her loyalty? Good Lord, this was not exactly the moment that Miranda wanted to contemplate what Severus meant to her. And, in any case, she wasn’t about to discuss it with Albus Dumbledore.

“Albus,” she said, letting the edge of her anger into her voice, “let’s not muddy the waters with that kind of game. It’s beneath you.”

He smiled as one would smile at a child who has said something particularly adorable, but his eyes lost their customary spark. “I thank you for the reminder, my dear. Your relationship with my spy aside, if he were to be killed it would be a gross loss for the Order. I’m certain that you realize this. His information and the information that he may be privy to in the future could be the difference between victory and defeat.”

“I know.” She blew out her breath. “Should I just go to his rooms on Thursday then?”

“That would be for the best. Then you would be in a position to adapt to whatever is required of you.”

“Fine. I’ll be there with bells on.” She stood up quickly. “Have a good day, Albus. Thanks for lunch.”

He was beside her before she could storm off, his wrinkled hand on her arm to stay her.

“Please know that I do understand what I am asking of you. If it could be any other way…”

“Then it would be another way. I guess Catalina Dragnea will have to save the children herself,” she snapped.

“Perhaps it is not quite time to give up hope. Severus is a clever man and you are extremely resilient. All may not be lost.”

“I haven’t given up yet.”

“Very good. I shall inform Severus of your arrival as soon as I have finished meeting with Charlie.”

“No. I’ll tell him. Have a safe trip home, Albus.”

She shook off his hand and stalked back towards the mountains before he could say anything further. Severus was going to hate this but, as infuriating as Albus was, she was angrier at Severus for not telling her about the problem in the first place. It was her own fault that Malfoy wanted her dead. She’d known what kind of man her former employer was when she’d baited him and beaten him all over town.

If there was a lion’s den to walk into, she and Severus were going to walk into it together.

*****

“Coffee. You do like me,” Miranda said.

It was ungodly early on Thursday morning, and she was pleased to see that Severus had thought to have breakfast ready when she arrived. His sitting room had gradually been acquiring more furniture during the time she had known him. In addition to the arm chair and desk, the space now held a sofa, and a table just large enough for two. She poured herself a cup and started buttering some toast. Severus paced with his teacup, irritably straightening his already immaculate desk and the perfectly aligned books on his shelves.

“You should eat,” she chided gently. “I get the feeling it’s going to be a long day.”

“I do not require a nursemaid,” he snapped, but he did sit down and follow her advice.

“I take it Malfoy is still being coy about his plans for tonight.”

“Unfortunately. We shall have to think on our feet.” Severus stabbed a sausage with his fork as if the entire predicament were the banger’s fault.

“Well, assuming the worst happens and I get the pleasure of meeting the Dark Lord, I’ll just taunt him until he kills me. Then you won’t have to.”

He gave her a ghost of a smile and shook his head. “I believe that now I understand how you came to destroy your potions classroom. Subtlety is not your strongest quality.”

“Do you have a better plan?”

“I should hope so.” He pulled a small round box out of his pocket and pushed it across the table to her. “Keep this with you. There is a pill inside that contains the Draught of Living Death. When we are summoned, you will conceal the pill in your mouth. When the torturing begins, break it and drink it.”

Miranda eyed the box. “This plan didn’t work so well for Romeo and Juliet.”

“That is because they involved a third party. We do not have such complications. I am certain that the Dark Lord will find it most appropriate for me to dispose of you. Then we will simply have to hide you back in Romania the best that we can.”

She pushed her food around with her fork and sighed. “Severus, I don’t think you should take this chance. I knew what I was risking when I pushed Malfoy the way I did. If you’re caught…the Order will lose one of its best assets.”

Severus set his fork down and fixed his black eyes upon her. “I told you that I would not hand you over to the Dark Lord. I will thank you for not arguing with me about it.”

Miranda returned his gaze steadily. “Were you going to tell me about what happened last week at all?”

“No.”

“So I have Albus to thank for cluing me in on everything.”

“I don’t believe that thanks are the proper sentiment for Albus’s interference.”

“Do you have anything you’d like me to do while I wait around for my impending doom?”

He sighed with resignation. “There are always flobberworms to be juiced if you wish to borrow trouble.”

“Borrowing trouble is my middle name. And I’m the world’s fastest flobberworm juicer.”

“Dare I ask why?”

“What do you think I did in detention all those years I was at Ilvermorny?”

“Ah. My sympathies to your professor.”

A bell chimed, warning that it was nearing time for classes to begin. He started for the door but, when he reached it, he stopped and returned to her side. Before she realized what he was about, he had pulled her to her feet and kissed her with a combination of tenderness and regret that made her heart ache.

“Miranda, it should not have come to this,” he said roughly.

“It hasn’t come to anything yet,” she replied, with rather more bravado than she felt. “Go teach. I’ll be here when you need me.”

He took the time to trace her cheek with his finger, and then he was gone.

*****

“Miranda, put your boots on!” Severus ordered as he burst into the sitting room around dinnertime that evening.

His tone left no room for argument, and Miranda set aside her book and silently accioed her boots before bothering to ask why.

“Quickly!” he barked.

“I’m going as fast as I can. Can’t Malfoy and the Dark Lord wait two minutes?” she asked as she tied the final knot.

“It isn’t them. Dolores took Potter and Granger into the Forbidden Forest hours ago. They never returned and you are going to help me find them.”

Without further explanation, he whirled and strode back out the door so quickly that Miranda was hard pressed to keep up. They made a beeline from the dungeon to the forest, cutting through the strange twilight shadows heedless to whether or not they were seen together. Miranda could tell by the way that his jaw muscle was twitching that her companion was in no mood for conversation, which was just as well. She needed her breath to keep up with his long strides. Although she was not a slow walker by any means, he was a head taller than she was, and by the time they were half-way across the lawn, he had broken into an outright run.

The Forbidden Forest loomed ahead of them, ominously quiet. Only a few feet into the trees it was already full dark. Without speaking, Miranda and Severus split apart, both of them stooping to study the mess of footprints marring the ground. The light was so dim that Miranda drew her wand, and the doxies flocked to her, tugging at her hair and clothing in protest of a stranger’s magic. She swatted them away and continued her search, but the battered ground was not giving up its secrets willingly.

“It looks as though the entire school has been over this patch of dirt today,” she muttered.

Severus grunted, his face drawn with worry and anger as he searched. A quarter of an hour passed and they were squatting shoulder to shoulder. He passed behind her, going over the ground that she had already covered, and she sat back on her heels. Instead of redoing the work he’d done, she let her eyes drift over the torn grass, slightly unfocused. For a time, patterns formed and faded before her until they suddenly snapped into place. She leapt forward, stopping over a trio of prints—two sets of trainers and one set of sensible heels.

“Bingo! I’ve got you. Miskawew.”

The rainbow colored light shot out of her wand, skipping over the trail and into the forest. She and Severus were hard after it, making far more noise than was prudent in their haste. The dark pressed in on them as they wove through the trees, but she refrained from casting Lumos. The creatures lurking here were sure to be more used to Severus’s magic than hers, and they could make due with the light from his wand. Best that they not draw any more attention than they were already doing.

They were both panting for breath when they halted ten minutes later in a jagged clearing. The rainbow light from the tracking spell fizzled away and Severus held his wand high as Miranda dropped down to explore the floor of the forest.

“Well?” he demanded.

“There’s too much damage to the ground,” Miranda explained, running her hands over the trampled earth. “Severus, there was a herd of centaurs here! They were everywhere. They wouldn’t have hurt the children, would they?”

“They usually leave the young in peace, but it is possible,” he replied grimly.

Miranda scoured the ground, patiently following the tangled hoof prints. The marks spiraled around and around, and it was difficult to make any sense of the stampede. Severus followed, keeping the light over her. When she reached the edge of the clearing she gasped in surprise.

“What is it?” he snapped

“There was a giant too! Good Lord, what goes on in these woods?” she breathed.

“They are forbidden for a reason.”

“So I see. And I had thought that Bigfoot was trouble.”

“Bigfoot?”

“Never mind. I’ll tell you later.”

The height difference between the forest floor and the giant’s footprint made it easy to distinguish, but there were still a host of prints littering each one. She searched methodically, hoping that she would not miss a trainer among the hooves. Severus’s eyes darted about the darkness, vigilant for centaurs or anything worse as he lit her way. She greatly appreciated that he held his impatience in check, but she knew that they were losing time. Wherever the children were, it was almost certain that they were in some sort of trouble.

“I see them!” she said at last. “Miskawew.”

The rainbow light took off again, and they ran after it. Miranda was starting to wish that she’d brought a broom after all, when the spell circled a new clearing and faded away. They began their tedious search again and, before long, their patience was finally rewarded.

“I see Potter and Granger, but Umbridge is gone.”

“She is not important. Where did they go?”

“They were joined by three, no, four other people. They look lighter than adults, but not by much. Miskawew.”

“I suspect their little friends must have escaped Dolores’s office,” he said irritably, watching the tracking spell skip between the twisted trees. “I shall have to see what damage they did to the members of my house when we return to the castle.”

The rainbow light circled the clearing twice and disappeared.

“What does that mean?” he snapped.

“It means they didn’t leave the clearing. Not on foot anyway.”

“Brooms then.”

“I’m not sure of that.”

She chewed the inside of her cheek as she traced one of the teenager’s footprints. While she didn’t think that they were deep enough to suggest that their owners had been carrying anything beyond wands, it made more sense that they would have gone off on brooms than anything else. She followed the tracks around the clearing once, twice, coming to no satisfactory conclusion. On the third circuit, her stomach lurched as she caught a whiff of something terribly familiar. She dropped to her knees, burying her hands in the earth and bringing a handful of dirt to her nose. Myrrh. Tentatively, she touched the tip of her tongue to the dirt in her hands. The taste of blood and aloe was unmistakable, and she could not stop the image of her dearly departed from flashing before her eyes.

“Thestrals,” she murmured. “There were thestrals here too.”

Now that she knew what she was looking for, the flickering tracks of the ghostly creatures were obvious. She could see where they and the children had come together, and she could see where the children’s footprints had disappeared. There was a clear depression where the thestrals had pushed off the ground to gain the air.

“The children rode the thestrals out of the forest,” she said, astonished.

“That’s impossible!” he protested, pulling a mirror out of his pocket, even as he denied the reality of the situation.

“That’s what happened. I’m sure of it. But where would they have gone?”

He didn’t answer her, his attention was on the face in the mirror.

“Albus,” he snapped, “Potter has gone to the Department of Mysteries.”

*****

Waiting was the worst part of any hunt. It made perfect sense that Severus could not possibly risk his cover by joining the Order at the Ministry, but staying behind might well drive the man insane. After the few moments it had taken him to disperse Bat Boogey Hexes and give his students a dressing down for allowing the missing members of the DA to escape, there had been nothing left to do but watch the minutes turn into hours. In an attempt to pass the time, Severus had decided it was necessary to undertake the annual purge and deep clean of the Potions room and supply closet. Miranda hadn’t argued with him, she had simply rolled up her sleeves and started scrubbing. Every half hour or so Severus would break something in the closet and swear under his breath. She wisely let him be.

Sometime in the small hours of the morning, she gave in to her rumbling stomach and excused herself to the kitchens. He didn’t acknowledge her errand, but she did take the trouble of bringing back a tray of roast beef sandwiches and a pot of tea for him. She set the sustenance on his desk, put a warming charm on the teapot, and went back to scouring cauldrons. The smell of the tea wafted through the room, drawing him out of the closet to irritably partake of it.

“It must have taken them hours to fly from here to London,” Miranda observed calmly. “There’s every chance that the Order was able to get to the Ministry in time to help.”

“I’m aware of that,” he replied tersely.

“This must be the big event that Malfoy was talking about.”

“Obviously.”

“Look, it’s not my fault that Potter and the others decided to go out on heroics. You don’t have to be sarcastic with me.”

Severus glared at her and opened his mouth to retort, but she never heard what his caustic wit had devised for her, due to some obnoxiously loud singing that began that moment in the hallway.

“Severus, Severus, Severus Snape! Looks like he’s dressed in electrical tape! His nose is an uncircumscribable shape! Severus, Severus, Severus Snape!”

“Peeves!” Severus roared, setting down his cup with a rattle and storming out the door after the naughty poltergeist.

Miranda laughed out loud, but she managed to get herself back under control by the time Severus returned. From the way he was fuming, it appeared that he had not managed to catch his tormentor.

It was impossible to resist. “Dare I ask the provenance of that ditty?”

He answered her with a black glare, but the laugh had rid her of her irritation. She glided over to him and traced his nose with the tip of her finger.

“I think your nose is perfectly circumscribable. It’s an aquiline nose, in fact. You probably have Roman ancestors lurking in your family tree somewhere,” she commented, placing a kiss on the end of his maligned facial feature.

He did not smile, but he did stop glaring and went back to his tea and sandwich. She curled up in his desk chair, tucking her legs under her and suppressing a yawn and watching him pace as he ate.

“This is exactly the sort of self-aggrandizing stunt I would expect from Potter. I should have known that he would not allow his betters to deal with matters,” he said bitterly between bites.

“From what you said earlier, the boy thought that his godfather was being tortured. I can see why he would feel compelled to do something.”

“He should have left it in my hands.”

She shrugged. “In his place, I would have done the same thing.”

“Merlin, woman. I should hate to think you capable of such stupidity.”

“I think we’re all liable to do stupid things when someone we care about is in trouble. Why do you think I’m here now?”

The change in his countenance at that observation was something remarkable. The angry mask fell away to display the fear and anguish that had been lurking beneath all night, and he turned away from her, leaning heavily on the doorframe of the supply closet.

“I haven’t been summoned yet. There is still time for you to leave.”

“And miss my chance to play Juliet? I’ve been waiting my whole life for this.”

“Be serious, Miranda. You know as well as I do that this plan is foolhardy at best.”

She contemplated his taut shoulders and rigid back. It had been longer than she could remember since she had thought about the future, and she’d been careful not to think about the startling revelation that he’d considered with pleasure the prospect of them having children together someday. It was entirely possible that her future would end tonight. But she couldn’t bring herself to be sorry that she had met her fascinating, infuriating lover. And she wasn’t sorry that she was with him now.

Pulling herself up from his chair, she crossed the room to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. He tensed under her touch, but she left her hand where it was.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said firmly. “I trust you.”

He froze for a moment at her words. Then a shudder went through his body, and he turned to her, pulling her into his arms and holding her tightly. She wasn’t sure exactly why, but she had the distinct feeling that she’d said something exactly right.

“Whatever else might be said about Peeves, he does think of catchy tunes,” Albus said as he entered the potions room, humming the ghost’s most recent song.

“Albus! What has happened?” Severus demanded. His mask was firmly back in place, and he released Miranda from his arms, stepping away from her.

“Is everyone all right?” she demanded at the same time.

Albus held up his hands, and Miranda could see that they were shaking slightly.

“All in good time. I only have a moment, as this is one of many meetings I must attend this morning. In short, Harry and the rest of the children are all fine. Lucius and his friends have been arrested and taken to Azkaban, all except for Tom and Bellatrix, both of whom managed to escape. Cornelius cannot deny reality any longer and will be publicly announcing the state of things shortly. And the Order came through mostly unscathed, save for one.” He paused and swallowed before continuing. “Sirius Black did not survive the battle.”

Miranda crossed herself automatically. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

“Not as sorry as Harry is.”

“That poor boy.”

“Yes, Harry has been given more to bear than a child of his age should be given and I must soon add to the burden.” Albus mustered a smile that did not reach his eyes. “But do try to take some rest now. Severus, I suspect that none of your students will object to a free hour today in lieu of a potions lesson. Please join me this afternoon so we can discuss the day’s events more thoroughly.”

“That is, assuming Miranda and I are not summoned in the meantime,” Severus remarked angrily. “The Dark Lord will be furious with Lucius’s failure.”

Albus’s body seemed bent with exhaustion. “All the more reason for you both to rest while you can.”

With that, Albus withdrew before either Severus or Miranda could say anything further. When the older wizard was gone, Severus reached over to take Miranda’s hand, but absently, as though he were not quite aware of what he was doing.

“I will say that I could use a nap at least,” Miranda said. “Should we go to your rooms while there’s still the opportunity to do so?”

“Actually,” Severus said slowly, “I was thinking that a walk in the downs by your cabin would be a more effective aid to composing myself for sleep, if that is not disagreeable to you.”

“And watch the sun come up over the Channel?” she asked with a tremulous smile. “I can’t think of a better way to spend my last hours on earth.”

*****

Friday afternoon found Miranda only mildly refreshed as she attempted to sort though the various stacks of papers scattered throughout the cabin. This was one of her least favorite chores, but she’d already cleaned everything that could be cleaned and she was in no state to be distracted by a novel. Severus had been in a foul mood when he’d left an hour ago to see Albus and she wasn’t sorry to miss that meeting. As the day dragged on though, her anticipation of being summoned grew exponentially. She almost wished that the Dark Lord would just call them already and get it over with.

A ping sounded in her ear and she jumped involuntarily as she felt the prick of the wards tripping. Her wand was in her hand in an instant, but when she saw who it was that had disturbed her, she threw open the door happily.

“Aaron! What brings you here?” she asked.

Aaron embraced her and leaned down to kiss her cheek. “I tried to get you through Charlie Weasley, but he said you were here. I thought I’d take the chance that you were home and not at Severus’s.”

“Severus is in a meeting with Albus, but he’ll be back later,” she explained as Aaron settled himself on the sofa. Just having her friend nearby put her at ease, and she filled the kettle, setting it boiling with a charm. “That still doesn’t answer my question. Are Rachel and Maggie alright?”

“They’re just fine. In fact, why don’t you and Severus come by for dinner, we’d love to see you. You won’t believe how big Maggie’s got since you saw her last.”

“It’s a deal, but what’s going on?”

“Robert just had a hell of a meeting with Cornelius Fudge. Thought you’d like to know about it.”

“Let me guess. Fudge finally admitted that Voldemort is back?”

“You are always stealing my thunder, woman,” Aaron complained good-humoredly.

“Sorry. It’s a specialty.” When the tea was black enough, she started pouring sugar into Aaron’s glass, stopping when she’d added two spoonfuls more than David had thought perfect. When the tea had submitted to the invasion of the sugar, she cast another charm to chill it to cellar temperature. She didn’t care much for sweet tea herself, but she had learned to make it for David in a fit of teenage affection.

“How did you know about it? Don’t tell me you were at the battle?” he asked, taking the glass she offered.

“No, I was at Hogwarts. But I did help Severus figure out that Harry Potter had gone off to the Ministry. And Severus got the Order to the Ministry in time for there to be a battle instead of a slaughter.”

“I’ll drink to that. And did you also hear that Lucius Malfoy is snug in prison as we speak?”

“I did. Good riddance.”

“Agreed. I feel bad for Narcissa though. She deserves better. And there’s that kid of his too. I can’t imagine what it’d be like being brought up by a man with that kind of sick view of the world. You’d have to be crazier than an outhouse rat to want to join the Death Eaters.”

Miranda almost choked on her tea, but she covered it with a smile. “I don’t know. People join extremist groups for all sorts of reasons.”

“They join them for a few reasons, all of them bad. And I’d find it hard to believe that they’d ever really get over it, even if they learned to act housebroken later. Look at Lucius.”

“Point taken.” She’d been fairly certain that keeping Severus’s former loyalties to herself was a good idea, and she was glad that she’d listened to that instinct. “Did you just come to gloat together?”

“Pretty much. And for your sweet tea. Rachel’s never been able to get it right. She thinks sugar and tea together are an abomination.” He finished his glass and started for the door. “I’ve got to head back to the Embassy, but I’ll see you and the fella later. Do you have any idea how much longer you’re going to be on this Romanian assignment?”

“I should be able to come back in October. Why do you ask?”

“Robert wanted to know. He’s got some ideas cooking and I expect he’ll want you to be part of it.”

“Do I want to be part of it?”

“With Robert, it can be hard to tell. But he’s at least worth listening to.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. See you soon.”

She kissed his cheek and shut the door after him. Severus was probably going to complain about going out, but she thought it would be better than staying in and driving each other crazy while they waited for her doom. If the Dark Lord was going to kill her in the next twenty-four hours, she’d rather spend some of them pleasantly.

*****

The wild metal knocker of St. Matilda’s seemed to throb with life as Miranda pulled open the creaking door later that night. Dinner had been a welcome diversion, but she knew she was far too wired to go home yet. When her walk with Severus had taken them past the church that had witnessed such happiness the month before, she felt compelled to go in.

“Thanks for agreeing to stop in,” she said as they crossed the threshold. He grunted noncommittally and she left him to pace the back of the church alone.

Ever since she had been a little girl, walking into a church at night had sent a thrill of anticipation down her spine. Her brothers had not been shy about telling ghost stories to their baby sister, and more than one story had involved the spirits that supposedly haunted such sanctuaries. Upon entering the magical world, Miranda had met more than her share of ghosts, most of whom were perfectly decent folk. But something about encountering a ghost in a church still struck her as different. It was as though the veil between the worlds were thinner here, and legions of spirits and other beings were watching and whispering just beyond it. As she drifted up the aisle lit only by flickering candles, she felt that at any moment Sirius Black himself might appear from behind a pillar and give her his hand.

Her rambling led her past sober statues in their lonely alcoves until, near the transept, she found the perfect spot. There, set apart from the others, sat a charming carving of a young woman holding her laughing Son. Unlike graver representations of the Holy Child, Miranda was drawn to this playful moment and the honesty of the amused and exhausted face of the Virgin. She dropped a coin in the waiting box, lit a candle on the rack of sentinels sending prayers up to heaven, and knelt on the prie-dieu before the statue with her beads in her hand. Although she was not consistent with her prayers, she did try to pray them with her whole heart when she took the trouble.

Most of her thoughts tonight were on the late Sirius Black. Severus might be convinced that Black was the worst creature ever to crawl the face of the earth, but Miranda felt oddly connected to the unfortunate man. She’d spent almost a year trying to protect Black by pretending to work for his enemies. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she had thought that they would meet someday and laugh over her charade of a hunt like old friends. And the idea that he had left behind a lonely boy who had known so much loss already tugged at her heart.

As the smooth beads ran through her fingers, other faces appeared, calling for their own attention. Columba and David were never far from her mind when she thought of the dead, and she spared prayers for them even though she presumed that they didn’t really need them. A gust of wind blew through the church, making the candles sputter. She shivered and the superstitious thought occurred to her that death and sorrows come in threes. As the candle flames righted themselves from the assaulting breeze, she began fervently and selfishly praying that her Englishman was not going to be one of those three. This intention was on her heart until she finished the round and rose to join him and say good night to the church and its secrets.

“Are you quite finished?” Severus asked when she fell in next him.

“I think so,” she replied, her mind still on the living and the dead.

He shook his head at her. “I have no idea why you insisted on coming here.”

She shrugged absently. “I guess I wanted to say thank you that I’m still alive.”

“Those thanks may be premature.”

“Maybe. But maybe not. And I had a few souls on my mind that I thought could use a word.”

He smirked as they walked out of the church into the warm June night. The streetlights obscured all but the brightest stars and the light of the crescent moon was feeble in comparison to them.

“For a woman as intelligent as you are, I find it astonishing that you can be so superstitious,” he observed.

“I wouldn’t complain if I were you. You are one of the souls I mentioned. If you don’t need prayers, I don’t know who does.”

She was certain that he would have a snide remark to give her in return, and she was surprised when he took her hand instead and pressed his lips to it.

“I have never complained about you wasting time on me before. Far be it for me to do so now.”

*****

An unceremonious crack broke the quiet of the woods, sending birds shrieking into the air. Severus stumbled, caught his balance on the trunk of one of the trees, and sank down to the ground, leaning his back against the rough bark. He hated apparating that soon after enduring the Cruciatus, but he would rather risk splinching himself than stay a moment longer than necessary in the Dark Lord’s presence. The man was a hyena. If he scented weakness, he would attack without mercy.

With a shaking hand, Severus fished the cigarette case out of his robes. He dropped it more than once before he managed to extract a cigarette and light it. One drag. Two drags. The smoke filled his lungs and the magic spread through his body, soothing the pain. The heat was unusually welcome to him, warming him after the chilling effects of the curse. For a long while he simply sat and smoked, thinking of nothing at all.

Presently the cigarette case on his knee reminded him of his Barbarian. He had promised to inform her if the Dark Lord called him after her return to Romania, but he was tempted to let it be. All she could do now was worry.

The cigarette kept him company as he deliberated. In the end though, a promise was a promise, and he took pains never to make them idly.

I HAVE BEEN TO SEE THE DARK LORD His fingers were slow at tapping, but he managed.

ARE YOU ALRIGHT was the instant reply.

YES THE CRUCIATUS WAS LACKLUSTER TODAY HE MUST HAVE SPENT HIMSELF ON BELLA

WHEN DID HE CALL YOU

AN HOUR AFTER YOU LEFT

I AM SORRY I WAS NOT THERE

DO NOT BE SORRY HE DID NOT MENTION YOU AT ALL I THINK WE MAY HOPE LUCIUS TOOK HIS PLAN TO MURDER YOU TO AZKABAN WITH HIM

THANK HEAVEN FOR SMALL MERCIES ARE YOU SURE YOU ARE ALRIGHT

He shifted against the tree, trying fruitlessly to find a comfortable position. YES I HAVE THE CIGARETTES AND IT IS NEAR ENOUGH TO EVENING THAT I WILL USE THE OCCASION AS AN EXCUSE TO MAKE UP FOR LOST SLEEP

YOU WILL EAT SOMETHING BEFORE YOU GO TO SLEEP RIGHT IF ONLY FOR MY SANITY

He snorted, but capitulated. I SUPPOSE BUT ONLY FOR THE SAKE OF YOUR SANITY THE LAST THING I NEED IS A MAD LOVER

YOU ARE TOO GOOD

DO YOU HAVE SUFFICIENT TIME TO FINISH PREPARATIONS FOR THE NEXT TASK

I AM READY DO NOT WORRY ABOUT THAT JUST WISH ME LUCK

He was worried, but not because he doubted her abilities. YOU DO NOT REQUIRE LUCK YOU REQUIRE SKILL WHICH YOU HAVE

THANK YOU I WILL LET YOU KNOW HOW IT GOES

YES DO

He hauled himself to his feet and set off towards the castle, moving at a slow but determined pace. The pains he had taken during the previous month to put Miranda out of his mind proved useless now, and his thoughts were full of her. Trust was a gift that Severus found he prized above all others. It was a gift that he had rarely been given and a gift that he had been known to mismanage when it had been bestowed. He had neither expected nor hoped to receive such a gift from Miranda, and it had startled him as much as it had warmed him when she’d presented it to him with no questions or reserve.

As unexpected as it was, he found he wanted it the way he wanted air to breathe.

*****

End Notes:

Many, many thanks to Potionspartner for beta-ing this chapter and saving me from an enormous blunder!

I think that Thestrals would smell and (shudder) taste differently to different people, based on their experience and beliefs.

Peeves’s song was written by my husband, Mr. Zingarella. It was featured in my one shot, Mairi’s Ghost--check it out if you’d like to know the whole story.

The term “uncircumscribable” means “not able to be circumscribed” or “not able to draw a circle around.” It was used during the debates in the Eastern Church about whether or not God could be depicted in icons. The iconoclasts argued that God was “uncircumscribable,” or that one could not depict Him in icons, and the iconodules, argued that He could be depicted, most often as the Ancient of Days. Was that too much information? Anyway, Peeves is just using that fancy word here to make fun of Severus’s nose.

Miranda is praying the rosary with her beads. Catholics do all kinds of things for the dead.

Churches are totally haunted, but only by souls looking for prayers.

*****

Moonlight Masterpost+

<< Chapter Twenty+

Chapter Twenty-two+ >>

[the-type-a]

Can you post your Duncney playlist since I don’t have Spotify? Please!

Of course! (I might have to do it in two parts so make sure to check the RBs!)

3:00am - Finding Hope

5 O’Clock - T-Pain, Lily Allen, Wiz Khalifa

7 Things - Miley Cyrus

About You Now - Miranda Cosgrove

Alive - One Direction

All I Ever Wanted - Basshunter

All I Do is Dream of You - Emilie Claire Barlow

All That Matters - Justin Bieber

Almost is Never Enough - Ariana Grande

A.M. - One Direction

Amnesia - 5 Seconds of Summer

Anaconda - Nicki Minaj

Animal - Neon Trees

Animals - Maroon 5

Apologize - OneRepublic

As Long As You Love Me - Justin Bieber

A Thousand Years - Christiana Perri

A Whole New World - Mena Massoud, Naomi Scott - Aladdin

Baby Boy - Beyoncé, Sean Paul

Backseat - New Boyz

Back to Sleep Remix - Chris Brown, Usher, Zayn

Back to You - Louis Tomlinson, Bebe Rexha

Bad Boy - Cascada

Bad Decisions- Ariana Grande

Bad Liar - Selena Gomez

Beauty And A Beat - Justin Bieber, Nicki Minaj

Beauty and the Beast - Ariana Grande, John Legend (also Disney Version)

Bedrock - Young Money, Lloyd

Bedroom Floor - Liam Payne

Behind These Hazel Eyes - Kelly Clarkson

Best I Ever Had - Drake

Better in Time - Leona Lewis

Better Than Revenge - Taylor Swift

Better Than Words - One Direction

Bound 2 - Kanye West

Bow Chicka Wow Wow - Mike Posner, Lil Wayne

Boyfriend - Ariana Grande, Social House

Boyfriend - Justin Bieber

Break Your Heart - Taio Cruz

Can I Have This Dance - High School Musical 3

Can’t Stand It - NeverShoutNever

Chasing Cars - Snow Patrol

Check Yes, Juliet - We the Kings

Close - Nick Jonas

Closer - Ne-Yo

Closer - The Chainsmokers

Cold - Maroon 5

Come Back to Me - Vanessa Hudgens

Come & Get it - Selena Gomez

Complicated - Avril Lavigne

Confident - Justin Bieber

Contagious - Avril Lavigne

Controlla - Drake

Corazon Sin Cara - Prince Royce

Crazy - Prince Royce

Crazy in Love - Beyoncé, Jay Z

Criminal - Britney Spears

Crush - David Archuleta

Dangerous - Prince Royce, Kid Ink

Dangerous Woman - Ariana Grande

Dear John - Taylor Swift

Dear Maria, Count Me In - All Time Low

Despacito Remix - Luis Fonsi, Daddy Yankee, Justin Bieber

Dile al Amor - Aventura

Dirty Little Secret - The All-American Rejects

DJ Got Us Fallin’ In Love - Usher

Does He Know? - One Direction

Doin’ Dirt - Maroon 5

Don’t Forget - Demi Lovato

Don’t Stop - 5 Seconds of Summer

Don’t Stop the Music - Rihanna

Down - Jay Sean, Lil Wayne

Drunk In Love - Beyoncé, Jay Z

Dusk Till Dawn - Zayn, Sia

Earned It - The Weekend

El Amor - Tito “El Bambino”

El Amor Que Perdimos - Prince Royce

El Malo - Aventura

Eres Mia - Romeo Santos

E.T - Katy Perry, Kanye West

Everytime We Touch - Cascada

Fallin’ For You - Colbie Caillat

Familiar - Liam Payne

Feelings - Maroon 5

Fifteen - Taylor Swift

First Time - Liam Payne

Flicker - Niall Horan

fOoL fOr YoU - Zayn

Fool’s Gold - One Direction

For The Nights I Can’t Remember - Hedley

Friends - Justin Bieber, BloodPop

FU - Miley Cyrus, French Montana

Genie In a Bottle - Christina Aguilera

Get Back - Demi Lovato

Gimme More - Britney Spears

Girls & Boys - Good Charlotte

Girls Like You - Maroon 5, Cardi B

Give It Up To Me - Sean Paul

Give Me Everything - Pitbull, Ne-Yo, Afrojack, Nayer

Gives You Hell - The All-American Rejects

Good Girl Gone Bad - Rihanna

Good Girls - 5 Seconds of Summer

Good Girls Go Bad - Cobra Starship, Leighton Meester

Gotta Go My Own Way - High School Musical 2

Half a Heart - One Direction

Handcuffs - Prince Royce

Hands to Myself - Selena Gomez

Hate That I Love You - Rihanna, Ne-Yo

Heartbreak Girl - 5 Seconds of Summer

Heartless - Kanye West

Hearts Don’t Break Around Here - Ed Sheeran

Here We Go Again - Demi Lovato

Hero - Enrique Iglesias

Hips Don’t Lie - Shakira, Wyclef Jean

History - One Direction

Hold It Against Me - Britney Spears

Home With You - Liam Payne

Hot Mess - Cobra Starship

Hot N Cold - Katy Perry

I Don’t Wanna Live Forever - Zayn, Taylor Swift

I Fall Apart - Post Malone

If I Can’t Have You - Shawn Mendes

I.F.L.Y - Bazzi

I Hate Everything About You - Three Days Grace

I Knew You Were Trouble - Taylor Swift

I Know You Want Me - Pitbull

I Like It - Enrique Iglesias

I’ll Take You There - Sean Paul

I Love You 5 - NeverShoutNever

I’m a Slave 4 U - Britney Spears

I’m Yours - Jason Mraz

In My Feelings - Drake

In My Head - Jason Derulo

Into You - Ariana Grande

Iris - The Goo Goo Dolls

Irreplaceable - Beyoncé

I See the Light - Mandy Moore, Zachary Levi

I Think We're Alone Now - Tiffany

I Wanna Love You - Akon, Snoop Dogg

I Won’t Give Up - Jason Mraz

I Won’t Say (I’m in Love) - Hercules

Jealous - Nick Jonas

Juego Prohibidos - Nicky Jam

Jungle - Drake

Just Like You - Louis Tomlinson

Just the Girl - The Click Five

Keep Holding On - Avril Lavigne

Kill My Mind - Louis Tomlinson

Kiss Me - Ed Sheeran

Kiss Me Kiss Me - 5 Seconds of Summer

Kiss Me Thru the Phone - Soulja Boy, Sammie

Kiss the Girl - Samuel E. Wright - The Little Mermaid

Kiwi - Harry Styles

La Bella Y La Bestia - Romeo Santos

Last Kiss - Taylor Swift

Let Me - Zayn

Let Me Love You - DJ Snake, Justin Bieber

Let Me Love You - Mario

Lights Up - Harry Styles

Like I’m Gonna Lose You - Meghan Trainor, John Legend

LIKE I WOULD - Zayn

Listen To Your Heart - DHT, Edmee

Little of Your Time - Maroon 5

Little Things - One Direction

Love While We’re Young - One Direction

Llevame Contigo - Romeo Santos

Love Me Harder - Ariana Grande, The Weekend

Love More - Chris Brown, Nicki Minaj

Love On the Brain - Rihanna

Love On Top - Beyoncé

Love Song - Sara Bareilles

Love Story - Taylor Swift

Love The Way You Lie - Eminem, Rihanna

Love You Goodbye - One Direction

Love You Like A Love Song - Selena Gomez

Lucky Strike - Maroon 5

Mad - Ne-Yo

Makes Me Wonder - Maroon 5

make up - Ariana Grande

Mercy - Shawn Mendes

Midnight Memories - One Direction

Mine - Taylor Swift

Mine - Beyoncé, Drake

Misery - Maroon 5

Miss Independent - Ne-Yo

Miss You - Louis Tomlinson

Moments - One Direction

Mr. Brightside - The Killers

My Boo - Usher, Alicia Keys

My Favorite Part - Mac Miller & Ariana Grande

My Happy Ending - Avril Lavigne

Nice To Meet Ya - Niall Horan

Needed Me - Rihanna

Need You Now - Glee Cast

Neighbors Know My Name - Trey Songz

New Rules - Dua Lipa

Next To You - Chris Brown, Justin Bieber

Night Changes - One Direction

No Air - Chris Brown, Jordin Sparks

No Control - One Direction

No One - Alicia Keys

Odio - Romeo Santos, Drake

OMG - Usher, will.i.am

Once in a Lifetime - One Direction

One Dance - Drake, Wizkid, Kyla

One More Night - Maroon 5

One Thing - One Direction

One Thing Right - Marshmello, Kane Brown

Only Angel - Harry Styles

Only Girl - Rihanna

On The Loose - Niall Horan

Ordinary People - John Legend

Paralyzer - Finger Eleven

Partition - Beyoncé

Payphone - Maroon 5

Perfect - One Direction

Perfect - Ed Sheeran

Photograph - Ed Sheeran

Picture to Burn - Taylor Swift

PILLOWTALK - Zayn

Pills N Potions - Nicki Minaj

Please Don’t Go - Mike Posner

Polaroid - Liam Payne, Jonas Blue, Lennon Stella

Pop Princess - The Click Five

Potential Breakup Song - Aly & AJ

Princesita - Aventura

Promiscuous - Nelly Furtado, Timbaland

Promise - Romeo Santos, Usher

Propuesta Indecente - Romeo Santos

Red - Taylor Swift

Reply - Iyaz

Right Here, Right Now - High School Musical 3

Right Now - Akon

Rocket - Beyoncé

Rock Me - One Direction

Rock Your Body - Justin Timberlake

Rolling in the Deep - Adele

Rude - MAGIC!

Rude Boy - Rihanna

Same Old Love - Selena Gomez

Say OK - Vanessa Hugdens

Senorita - Shawn Mendes, Camila Cabello

Set Fire to the Rain - Adele

Shake It - Metro Station

Shape of You - Ed Sheeran

She Looks So Perfect - 5 Seconds of Summer

She’s Kinda Hot - 5 Seconds of Summer

[beca-mitchell]

prompt 15

one more box (1/1)

summary: The complexities of moving across the country.

word count: 2.5k

written in response to prompt 15: “Stop pretending you’re okay, because I know you’re not.”

Beca isn’t sure that she needs this many people helping her move out. It’s not like she had that much to begin with, considering she shares – shared – a tiny apartment with two other people.

Still, more than half of the Bellas are in her apartment (somehow) and they’re helping her move her belongings into the waiting truck below. Amy offered to make herself scarce about an hour and a half ago and Beca notes she is now lounging on her own bed, flipping through a magazine.

The Brooklyn apartment is so small. It was ridiculous that they were attempting to fit that many people at all, let alone smoothly move herself, Aubrey, Emily, Stacie, Lilly, Cynthia-Rose, and - of course - Chloe in and out of the apartment was difficult. Aubrey seemed to delight in delegating tasks to people and reorganizing Beca’s boxes, despite Beca’s insistence that there was already a system in place (there wasn’t) and that Beca would prefer that Aubrey didn’t touch her things (she really didn’t mind, it was just funny to see Aubrey’s lips purse into a thin line and it was also fun to hear Chloe’s light giggles).

Beca doesn’t want to admit it because she’s enjoying the company and the chaos, but it’d probably be easier if she did this herself, but her heart thuds in her chest of giving up precious time with her friends – her family – before she has to move across the country.

Chloe and Aubrey both were trying their best to organize the Bellas. Chloe had the upper hand of also having lived in the apartment and knowing exactly where Beca’s things were – even things that she didn’t even know she had. Aubrey, however, had a chart. It looked remarkably like her old blocking charts when she ran Bellas choreography and considering how disorganized everybody happens to be at the moment, Beca thinks it’s somewhat indicative of why Chloe had primarily taken care of choreography as opposed to Aubrey (or even Beca herself).

It didn’t matter however, how helpful Chloe and Aubrey were being. Nobody was really listening and it was mostly a cacophony of noise and laughter. Beca wouldn’t have it any other way.

Their friends were just…terrible at moving, it seemed.

Cynthia-Rose and Emily were probably the most helpful ones. Beca had to quickly remove a few items from Lilly’s grasp because she looked close to either breaking it or, well, Beca’s not sure what else she would have done with it. Stacie was flirting with Beca’s next door neighbour about ninety percent of the time. It ultimately didn’t matter who was being helpful at any point in time, ultimately; everybody else was consistently bad at moving that somebody’s helpfulness didn’t make much of a difference.

Beca is thankful that she packed most of her stuff anyway before her friends arrived. With Chloe’s help, they had managed to square most of her things away.

“I’m going to be lucky if I can find a mug at all,” Beca murmurs to Chloe.

Chloe smiles at her, vibrant as always. “Is there anything else I can pack for you?” Beca tries not to focus on the underlying storm of emotions in Chloe’s eyes – a far cry from the emotions Beca had previously been privy to when, well-

“You’re such a good kisser,” Chloe murmurs, tugging Beca back into her body.

“You said that,” Beca reminds her, chasing her lips with her own. She tucks her hands into the back pockets of Chloe’s jeans, sighing heavily against Chloe’s mouth when Chloe’s hips rock into hers determinedly. “I think you’re a good kisser too.”

Chloe giggles. “We’re drunk,” she points out unnecessarily, sitting heavily on their shared bed.

“Amy’s not home,” Beca replies, as if that somehow makes sense. She breathes deeply, watching Chloe unbutton and unzip her jeans, pushing them hastily down her hips. Chloe’s eyes are ablaze – lit up with the reflection of the soft light emanating from their small stand-up lamp. Beca swallows at the heaviness of Chloe’s gaze: heated, tender, and filled with unmistakable lust as she slides her hands up Beca’s bare thighs.

“Come here,” Chloe murmurs.

“You should move back in,” Beca points out, watching intently when Chloe pulls her own her shirt over her head. Chloe moving out after a fight with Beca was still a sore spot between the two, but preserving their friendship had been the most important thing on Beca’s mind. She supposes it kind of worked, all things considered. “We could be doing this all the time,” Beca says in a convincing tone.

“And what’s this?” Chloe asks, swinging her leg over Beca’s thighs and effectively straddling her.

Beca chalks up her lack of an answer to the fact that Chloe’s hand is sliding down the front of her underwear.

It’s nothing. Everything.

That had been the beginning of a…tentative relationship. A tense, back-and-forth that was neither a complete friends-with-benefits situation, nor was it an actual, fully-blossomed relationship.

Beca had cared too much about her job, and Chloe cared too much about holding on to the past.

(Also, it had been so difficult for Beca to categorize the terms of their relationship as anything remotely friendly – not when she was so ridiculously in love with Chloe Beale and had been for years.

There was also the added bonus of knowing that Chloe likely had feelings for her too.

Just.

Neither of them were in the right place.)

The break-up had been gradual.

Not that there had been much to break-up to begin with.

It’s fine. They’re still friends.

(It’s only just one of the best and most achingly sad years of their lives.)

Chloe blinks.

And now, Beca Mitchell is moving across the country.

Away, away, away-

“Hm, can you just check my nightstand? I emptied it last night, but like, if you do that, then you don’t have to drag Stacie away from Greg again.”

Chloe snorts. “So considerate.”

Beca grins at her and leaves the apartment to bring a box downstairs to the truck.

Chloe gazes around the nearly empty apartment. Of course, Amy’s things are still there, but all she sees are the spaces where Beca’s things should be, but they aren’t. She doesn’t see Beca’s favorite headphones, she doesn’t see Beca’s favorite jacket, messily draped over the closest chair, she doesn’t see Beca’s laptop, balanced precariously on the kitchen counter.

She doesn’t see Beca.

Moving out had been the best decision for Chloe at the time. She remembers when she had packed all her things away about two years ago, realizing it was for the best because her feelings for Beca were getting out of hand and Beca was still working through the long distance thing with Jesse.

Then, as suddenly as Chloe had moved out, Beca and Jesse had broken up.

And as equally suddenly, Beca had her tongue shoved down Chloe’s throat and her hand raking up Chloe’s back, bringing Chloe back into her orbit again.

And again and again and again-

Chloe shakes her head to herself and picks up a surprisingly empty box near the bed. Sitting on the edge, she opens Beca’s drawer, peering into it and making sure Beca has everything she needs. She smiles as she sees Beca’s old glasses, a bunch of colorful pens, and an old, somewhat familiar beanie that Beca clearly no longer had any use for. It was folded unceremoniously and shoved near the back of the drawer. She bites her lip and quickly picks up the beanie, intending on keeping it when suddenly, a small box falls out of the hat and onto her lap.

Chloe’s heart nearly leaps into her throat. The box strikes familiarity in her, even though she can’t recall ever seeing this.

The voice in her head tells her she’s wrong.

She knows this box like the back of her hand – how could she forget?

Against her better judgment, she opens it an inhales shakily at the delicate diamond perched on a simple silver band.

Her mouth forms an ‘o’ before she can stop herself and she would collapse if she weren’t already sitting.

The six-month old memory is as clear as day.

She never forgot, she just pushed it aside because it drummed up terrible feelings of guilt and despair.

Chloe can’t sleep. It was too quiet her apartment. Now that she lived by herself, she didn’t get the sound of Amy’s snores – the perfect white noise machine against the constant sound of New York traffic.

She hates the quiet; she hates being away from Beca.

She had grown accustomed to Beca’s presence over the past year, since they decided to take their flirting to the next level, but it clearly wasn’t enough since neither of them was really willing to try to push for more.

Too afraid, too soon, too needy – excuses run through Chloe’s head regularly these days and only make her angrier and more afraid of losing Beca forever.

It felt right at the time, quietly telling Beca that they shouldn’t see each other anymore, but Beca’s hurt expression and the immediate rebuilding of her walls had nearly completely shattered Chloe’s resolve.

As if on cue, her phone buzzes on her nightstand. Once, then twice, then a third and fourth time in a row.

Becachlochloeeeopen, pleaseits fucking cold

Chloe blinks, unsure if she’s dreaming or having some kind of nightmare – a reminder of what she can’t have.

Chloeare you sleep-texting me?

Against her better judgment, Chloe wraps her jacket around her shoulders and grabs her keys. At the front steps of her building, sure enough, Beca is there, pacing, just outside her door.

She has to know. Beca looks determined. “Beca?”

Beca stops pacing immediately and reached up to adjust her hat – a soft knitted beanie that fit snugly on her head. Chloe tilts her head, thinking that Beca looks adorable (as she usually does), but also a little cold.

“Nice PJs, Beale,” Beca says, walking towards her slowly.

"Are you drunk?” Chloe asks softly. “Bec, I should call you an Uber and get you home.”

“This is a bad idea,” Beca says, mostly to herself. Chloe frowns in confusion. “I have to tell you something.”

“Tell me what?”

“I love you and I’m sorry.”

Chloe blinks. “You love me?”

“Yes.”

“Beca, this isn’t…you’re drunk. You can’t seriously expect me to…”

“Please say you love me back. Please tell me that this is killing you as much as it’s killing me.” Beca looks like she’s fighting the urge to grab the front of Chloe’s jacket. Chloe’s kind of grateful she doesn’t because she doesn’t know if she can resist.

“Beca, we just need time, okay? Neither of us…You just broke up with Jesse.”

“Yeah, almost a year ago!” Beca shouts.

Chloe winces, hoping her neighbours are deep sleepers. “Beca, keep your voice down.”

“Why are you so fucking fixated on him? Why can’t you see that I’m – I’m trying and –” Beca’s brow furrows. “Why do you get to be okay about all this?” Beca asks softly, breaking the edge in her voice. “Stop it.”

Chloe sighs. “Beca, you should come inside and lie down-”

“Stop pretending you’re okay, because I know you’re not!” Beca cries.

Tears spring to Chloe’s eyes. “Of course I’m not okay,” she says softly as Beca starts to cry in earnest. “We should talk about this tomorrow. This is the right thing to do, trust me.”

"No, just – just listen to me, Chlo,” Beca says after a loud sniffle. Chloe instinctively reaches out to hold on to Beca’s forearms even though her brain screams at her not to.

"I-I know…that you love me,” Beca says quickly. “But I also…I know that we both need to learn how to…how to grow together.” She bites her lip, struggling for words. “You deserve someone who will put your dreams first. Somebody who’ll help you and - and lift you up. I want to be that person for you. I can be that person, I promise. I can – I can quit my job and-”

“I don’t want you to quit your job,” Chloe says softly. “I never wanted that.”

“But I would do that,” Beca replies, tilting her head in confusion. “I…I want to be your first choice and, I think, even if I’m not, I think you and I could really make a life together. I would do everything to make you happy, and I know I can’t change the past or how long I made you wait, or – or how fucking awful I’ve been, but I promise I’d protect you and love you and put your needs first.”

Beca pauses then, seemingly waiting for a response. Her eyes peer into Chloe’s blearily.

“I don’t understand,” Chloe says finally, when the silence grows too heavy. Maybe she’s drunk.

She’s so tired.

Her heart seems to tell her that Beca is saying something, but it’s too muddled. Too contrary to everything Beca seemed to want from her when they were actually together.

"No,” Beca says quickly when she sees Chloe start to move away. “I’m not done. Chloe, I know it’s sudden and everything, but every day I think about how much I want to wake up next to you.”

Before Chloe can do or say anything, Beca is presenting a velvet box that she apparently had in her pocket the whole time. Chloe’s hands fall limply to her side as she stares at Beca numbly. Suddenly the cold doesn’t seem to matter. “Marry me?”

…That’s a ring.

There’s a ring.

And Beca definitely just proposed to her, managing to include swearing somehow.

“Please, I know…I know that you trust me, and I trust you, and I think we can make it. I’ve known how much you meant to me since Barden. Since you walked into my damn shower. I was just so damn confused.” Beca is crying again and Chloe feels her own eyes well up in response. “And – and if you one day think you’ll…find somebody else, I promise I’ll walk away now and we can pretend this never happened. I promise,” she repeats.

Chloe’s reality seems to fizzle in and out.

“What?” she tries to ask, but her voice comes out as some wisp of a breath – a barely-there whisper.

The silence seems to extend.

“Okay, so, no,” Beca mumbles to herself. “That’s a no, if I’ve ever heard one.”

Chloe wonders if she should protest, because Beca is mumbling to herself and fumbling with her phone. She stares at Beca for the next few minutes until an Uber pulls up to the curb and Chloe has enough mind to hastily ensure that the driver is bringing Beca back home and not some random location.

The next morning, after a night of no sleep at all, she texts Beca hastily.

Chloeare you ok?

Becayeah, why wouldn’t I be?

It echoes in her mind, like an incessant alarm. She can’t figure out how to turn it off.

Stop pretending you’re okay, because I know you’re not.

“Did you get everything?” Beca asks, breaking Chloe’s reverie again.

Chloe quickly hides the box under Beca’s beanie and quickly shoves a bunch of pens into Beca’s hands when she turns around. “Yep, totes.”

“Are you okay?” Beca asks, taking in Chloe’s blush.

A million responses come to mind.

Chloe settles on one.

“Yes,” she says. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

fin / fic tag

[wildasthewindis]

jasper & alice one shot

Renesmee was at Jacob's house. She was growing up so fast that I felt like time wasn't on my side. Edward had gone out to hunt and I was waiting for Renesmee to get back. It was getting close to her curfew and I was needlessly nervous.

When I looked, seeing figures in the window, I had hoped to see Jacob was on time for once in bringing her home. Instead I saw Alice and Jasper. Walking hand in hand, Alice talking and Jasper listening with a wry smile on his face. She seemed to be making fun of him, but Jasper's hand never left her's.

It wasn't that they were odd in a bad way, it just wasn't a sight you saw very often. If you didn't know them, looking at them together made your instinct's go haywire. She was so small compared to him, making his demeanor against hers looked intimidating. They were opposites in personality, so much so that he almost overpowered her, being so reserved. Not to mention his overwhelming features that covered almost every part of his body. Alice's skin was a pure, milky, white and to see Jasper's scared, almost mauled skin next to her's made me shiver.

Although they walked up the steps together, Alice walked in alone.

"Where did Jasper go?" I asked without thinking about it. I hadn't meant to pry, but now I had given myself away. Preparing for her to be angry with me, I was already planning out an apology.

Alice seemed as though she didn't notice, she glanced in the direction he had left in. "Oh, he just wanted to get me home. He wanted to do more hunting and I have had my fill, so he went to catch up with Edward."

"Oh." I said, still little puzzled at her simple explanation. "What did he need to walk you home for?"

"I was finished hunting, he wasn't." She said again, looking at me with her eyebrows creased, thinking she had already explained well enough.

"No, I mean why didn't he just let you come home by yourself?"

Alice giggled, as if the answer was obvious. "Oh! He's extremely protective. Over protective if you ask me. Like Edward is to you, except worse."

"Worse?" I asked, believing that she was surely exaggerating. No one could be more protective then Edward. Then I remembered what happened when Alice wouldn't tell Jacob what she saw in her vision about Victoria and the newborns at our graduation party. The idea that Jacob would hurt Alice was far from my mind, but Jasper considered him immediately as a threat. When Jacob put his hand up so that Alice couldn't get through until she gave him answers, Jasper showed up-furious.

"Worse." Alice confirmed. "I understand why he does it, but that doesn't mean it doesn't annoy me any less." She said, shaking her head but still smiling.

I decided to ask her what I really wanted to know, now genuinely curious. "Why does he do that?"

She paused, sitting down across from me. It took her awhile to meat my gaze in response to my question. After a few moments of thought, she said. "Can you imagine, just for a second, being him before? Caring about no one and responsible for everyone? Not knowing what love is for yourself?"

To be honest, I couldn't. I couldn't imagine living in hell. Jasper did it for decades, living among gruesome people I had only heard about in the horror story that was his previous life.

"I had seen him in visions for years. I woke up so confused Bella, and all alone. Then...I saw him. He is my first real memory. I don't know what I would have become without seeing him. For Jasper, I was everything he wasn't and everything he wanted. I am his light, but what most people don't understand is that he is mine too." She beamed at me and I smiled back. Although Edward and I shared a different story, we could at least have that one thing in common.

As Alice stood up, Jasper strolled in. He looked to be more carefree than usual and it made the both of she and I smile. To this day I wasn't sure if he had heard our conversation or not, but I guess it didn't matter. He walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around Alice's waist. Humming, a deep sound coming from his throat that sang a song I didn't know. he swayed her to a tune that made Alice smile. After he kissed her on the cheek, she turned around and begun to dance with him around the room, giggling and humming soprano along with him. They looked like children, so innocent that their troubled past's seemed so far away.

Then, I came to the realization that Alice's and Jasper's past didn't define who they were now. Even if Jasper's scars and Alice's human life she couldn't remember told a different story.

I didn't want to imagine Jasper not knowing what love was and soaking in the worst feelings this world had to offer him. I didn't want to imagine Alice screaming as her body racked in pain, feeling the venom spread through her viens. I didn't want to imagine Jasper killing thousands of people for blood and striking fear in the hearts of those he let live. I didn't want to imagine Alice's eyes snapping open, no memory of who she was or understanding what she was now. That wasn't who they were, not really. That wasn't what they were destined to be.

In my mind's eye, they have danced around a dimly lit living room forever, circling around furniture and laughing like children playing the nicest of games. They have danced like this for centuries, seeing each other with nothing but what they see now-complete love and adoration. They are graceful, like he should be a tux and her a magnificent gown, gliding across a ballroom floor. They are so at ease in each others company that I wanted to watch, yet the moment seemed so special that I had to look away.

They have danced this way forever, and would continue to dance long after I have left the room.

[of-hell-and-hyacinths]

love tastes like vanilla beans and blood on the back of your tongue

chapter 1

so this is a hanahaki disease au wiliou fic that i started writing yesterday!!! i think it might have about 3 to 4 chapter but don’t quote me on that. it’s pretty shit but I Tried. also!!! this takes place after the second breakup that isn’t canon but yolo i guess.

as always, all characters (besides drew lmao) belong to @skate-fast-eat-grass not me!!!

The first time it happens is during breakfast the day after the breakup.

Bella keeps casting him worried glances from her table, and at this point it’s only annoying. She regards him with carefulness. Like he’s about to break. Like any moment now he’s going to explode.

So he stares down at his toast with venom. He stabs his eggs so violently Elysna shoots him a look identical to Bella’s. He glares at Bella with such force that for a split second he thinks she might feel hurt.

“I hate oatmeal,” Drew says, her tone inching on disgust, as she stares Mitchell down.

“And I hate cereal.”

“You little bitch—“

Normally, Adrien offers his input. Not today. He can’t find his voice. He reckons he lost it and all of its vibrancy last night.

Last night.

Acid wells at the back of Adrien’s throat. And in his eyes. He clenches his spoon so hard his knuckles almost go completely white. Okay, okay, okay, he’s not going to fucking start crying at breakfast.

Just look at your Lucky Charms, he tells himself. There’s nothing sad about cereal. You like Lucky Charms. You have no reason to cry.

Except — uh, yes, he does. That reason is sitting across the Dining Pavilion, and Adrien has refused to look at him this morning at all.

Is Rhys as miserable as he is? He doubts it. It was for the best, he’d said. All he wanted was for the both of them to be happy.

Like breaking up with Adrien was for the best. Hell, like breaking up with Adrien was supposed to make him happy.

Don’t look. All it’s going to do is make you cry.

Nausea swirls around in his stomach. He sets his spoon down. Nobody except Elysna gives him a second glance. Adrien stares down at his hands until the edges get blurry.

When did he get so weak? When did he start giving in to himself? When did he start breaking down? When did he become such a fool for Rhys Winters?

Despite the nausea, and the feeling like shattered glass wedged in his throat, Adrien drags his eyes away from his hands. There’s something far more worthy to look at.

Rhys is smiling weakly at something Lou Ellen is whispering to him. In the sunshine bearing down, his hair is white, the colour of falling snowflakes, and fluffy and like a cloud. Adrien itches to run his hands through it. To bury his face in it.

To have Rhys in his arms.

But that’s the one thing he’ll never have again.

In one big wave of nausea, his stomach lurches. Fireworks. If fireworks were to explode in his stomach, it would feel like this. Painful and nauseating and awful.

Adrien can feel knives poking around in his throat. They crawl up like spiders. They’re begging to stab his tongue, to shut him up for good.

And, damn, he probably shouldn’t throw up all over the table.

Suddenly, Adrien swings his legs over the bench and pushes his clammy hands away from the table, stumbling. The wobbling and exploding in his stomach blossoms into a monster.

He knows everybody in the Dining Pavilion is staring at him while he sprints out, but why should he care? Just for a second, he catches a sight of Rhys and his blonde-haired, blue-eyed magic. And in that one second he feels something pop in his throat. He clamps a hand over his mouth and races off like he’s aiming for first place.

(It’s all eating him up inside.)

Something — probably vomit — is blooming inside his throat but for some reason it feels ticklish. Adrien has no time to think about it. He bursts into the boy’s bathroom, ducks into a random stall, bends over, and prepares to let his insides fall out.

The ticklish, acidic feeling goes from small to a massive blob. Everything inside his body crumples and implodes. For some reason, his heart hurts most of all. He gags and chokes. Something shoots through his throat.

Adrien’s stomach contracts in agony. He tries to think of something comforting; Rhys’s soft smile, Rhys’s iceberg blue eyes glimmering, Rhys’s gentle lips, Rhys’s fingers intertwined with his own.

To his surprise, there’s a feeling like a thousand bombs going off inside. His thoughts become a hurricane. His pain blends with his body, and for a moment, he and heartbreak are one and the same.

What tumbles from his mouth isn’t bile or the few spoons of breakfast he forced down, but a single branch of yellow wattle.

It plops into the toilet water and sinks to the bottom in slow motion.

At first, his only thought is what the fuck was in my cereal? One of the Hermes kids probably caught wind of last night’s events and decided making him throw up flowers was funny. It wasn’t.

His stomach aches, but it doesn’t feel as queasy. It feels calmer, like a sea on a summer day.

But Adrien still feels like shit. What’s with that?

He recalls the feeling of bombs inside his body when he thought of Rhys. It was the worst feeling he’d had in a while. Not only did his physical pain turn it up a notch, but so did his heartache.

Adrien probably shouldn’t be thinking of his ex-boyfriend when he throws up wattles, but—

It strikes him like an axe to the head.

When he thought of Rhys.

Wattle. Native to Australia. Rhys had rambled about the lovely wattle trees in his old primary school only days ago.

Adrien’s mind plunges into a memory buried deep, deep underneath.

———

“My gods, Zac Efron is hot.”

A disbelieving giggle comes from Drew. She swivels to face where Mitchell is face-down on the floor. “Yeah, well, he’s a celebrity and about a hundred years older than you,” she says in mock-sympathy. “Better luck next time, bitch.”

Lacy looks scandalised by her use of language but she doesn’t comment. She never does.

“Ugh.” Mitchell flips over to his back, staring at the ceiling. “Why can’t he marry me?”

“Because you’re too young and he doesn’t know you exist and he couldn’t care about you if he tried. I just said that.”

Mitchell’s face gives off a twinge of offence. “How do you know if he doesn’t care about me?”

Not this again. Please not this again. Gods, this isn’t what they deserve. Silena takes a shower and they have yet another go — they’re absolutely helpless, Adrien amends.

“Because I do,” Drew answers breezily. “We’ve got to keep you away from Zac Efron at all costs.”

Then Mitchell sits bolt-upright, shooting up like electricity. His hair sticks out everywhere.

“We don’t want you getting Hanahaki, do we?”

He flops back down with a grim expression.

Adrien fiddles with his hoodie strings. Uncharacteristically quiet is what he’s been for the entire conversation. “What’s Hana ... haniki—“ Everybody jolts when they hear his voice.

Elysna is the one who answers, to everybody’s surprise.

“Hanahaki.” Her voice is solemn and dreamy, far-off somewhere else. “And you shouldn’t joke about that, Drew.”

“It’s not like he was actually going to get it!”

“Still, it isn’t funny. You know what happens to people with Hanahaki.”

“You’re so—“

“Guys, what the fuck is Hanahaki?” Adrien interjects.

Drew’s shiny black curls bounce around her shoulders as she turns around and narrows her eyes. She takes her sweet time twisting her magazine in her hands, setting it down, picking it up and twisting it again. From where she’s cross-legged on the floor, Elysna watches her with cautious eyes.

“A really, really bad disease that you won’t ever get so don’t sweat your ass,” she says carefully. Drew never speaks carefully.

“Yeah, good, but what’s the actual disease?” Adrien says, voice full of exasperation.

She considers this. “Sometimes, someone falls in love.”

“Yeah.”

“And the person they’re in love with doesn’t love them back. Unfortunate, but it happens, y’know?”

“Yeah.”

“And—“ Drew tosses her hair over her shoulder. “And then they start coughing up flowers.”

“Ye— wait, what?”

Drew heaves a sigh as Elysna shoots her an I-told-you-so look. “It works like this,” she replies, digging a fingernail into her blanket, “they associate a flower with that person.”

Adrien frowns. “Why?”

“Why the fuck would I know? Do I look like I created Hanahaki disease out of thin air?”

He recoils. “You don’t have to get so mad at me, I’m just asking,” he snaps.

Then Drew opens her mouth to snap back but she purses her lips hesitantly and crosses her arms. Adrien does that too. Elysna was already doing it. They’re all pretzeled up now.

“But basically,” Drew continues, “if the disease gets to a stage where the person is choking on the flowers, then the person has two choices. Well, three choices. Confess to their love. Get surgery that’ll make them forget their love.”

“And?”

Drew winces. “Die.”

———

Dread pools and courses through his veins like heroin. How simple time was back then.

How unfair and horrible it is now.

Adrien wraps an arm around his knees, drawn up to his chest; cradles his stomach and heart in one hand; curses Rhys, himself, and Rhys and himself; and thinks, isn’t it ironic that the son of Aphrodite is lovesick?

[hailrosa-a]

can you write an hc on rosa's mental health?

OF COURSE I AM READY TO ATTACK THIS LEMME GO OFF  !!!! 

also this is really long  … pls lemme know if u actually read OMG

okay in all honestly, rosalie’s mental health is fucked. now, im not being funny or anything but if you really think about it… i would be SURPRISED if she didn’t have issues.  SM completely glazed over the night rosalie was turned  && then after. she was raped by not just one man, who was supposed to LOVE HER, but by his friends too. then instantly she finds herself living her life as a different species, not having her birth family around —-  her mother. && she couldn’t go to the police about it bc technically her being a newborn would have risked so much. 

so who did she have?

rosalie was gang-raped and beaten left to die. who was she to get help from to recover from this? esme? esme’s situation was domestic violence ( not downplaying that in anyway ) but it wouldn’t be the same to rosalie. rosalie’s situation had happened out of nowhere, royce never drank in front of her. she had never seen him drunk. so his behavior had completely surprised her  && up until that point she TRUSTED him. sure the whole relationship was solely based off physical attraction but she was going to MARRY this man, she had placed trust in him to care for her. she saw him as her PRINCE. && then in one drunken night he completely destroyed that. && then as he walks away, they all JOKE about how royce would need to find another bride… literally treating her like she was nothing. 

though carlisle was a doctor, i dont think he had any experience or any proper way of handling rape victims. he, at least that i know of, didn’t really focus on psychology. so it wasn’t like HE was the one rosalie wanted to talk to. even if she hadn’t resented him. BUT i have it as headcanon, or it could be canon lol like i said SM glazed over it, that rosalie didn’t resent carlisle completely because he took her humanity from her. royce had already taken that from her when he left her to die. she resented carlisle because now she couldn’t escape that night. && based off how the book goes, everyone ( aside from alice ) they all seem to remember when they were changed  && then every moment after. human memories fading more. so rosalie’s most prominent human memory was being raped. so because of carlisle, she couldn’t escape it. at least if she were dead, she was dead. end of story. 

off the bat, edward has no interest in her. now —- its shallow thinking, yes —- but after this girl had her whole appearance being the envy of a lot of women && every man wanted her… now suddenly after a traumatic night, she’s suddenly undesirable. all she had now were her looks. before she had a family, her future, and her looks. now it was just her appearance because she couldnt go with her birth family ever again && she had no future. i do believe that rosalie is narcissistic && self-centered as a defense mechanism. she was like this before, but because she had let it get to her head. NOW, after that night —- as most rape victims feel  —- she felt dirty, used, unloved, unappreciated, etc. SO for the first time she is with a man after everything, he wants nothing to do with her. confidence plummets, she can’t let it affect her. so she builds up more confidence in herself, but it translates into her being full of herself, shallow, etc. 

so!!! for the first couple of months/years, of now living with the cullens. she had no one to talk about that night with. she tries SO hard to forget that in the first months she doesn’t bring it up  && with edward around, she refuses to think about. she thinks about her beauty. she admires herself because it makes her happy. her face is human yet inhumane at the same time – to her. anyways, she couldn’t get professional help. “I’m a vampire now after my ex-fiance && her friends gang-raped me… so now i cant sleep to escape that night… && any medications you would want to give me for the anxiety wouldn’t help anyways lol” first, she’s a newborn so being with new people ( at least at the time ) who knew if she had control? second, she would have to leave things out  &&  IM NOT SURE ABOUT YOU BUT I DONT THINK THEY HANDLED RAPE CASES THE SAME AS THEY DO NOW. third, royce had money. rosalie describes his family as NY royalty. so, they wouldn’t have done anything for rosalie. seeking professional help was just not in the cards for her.

seeking revenge on royce && his friend was her therapy. she needed it. if she hadn’t done anything, another girl could have gotten the same treatment. rosalie’s case would have been swept under the rug. royce would marry someone else eventually && the life of rosalie would have been nothing. && rosalie was not having that. she would rather have his death connected with her disappearance than have his successes throughout the rest of his life overpower his wrongdoings.  

FAST FORWARD TO WHEN SHE SAVES EMMETT…. i call bullshit on how everything was fine once she has him. she forgives carlisle yes because he saved someone for her… but does she suddenly stop thinking about what happened to her? edward still considers himself a monster after going through his rebellious stage. so she has to still think about. EMMETT DOES MAKE IT BETTER THOUGH. HE KNOWS WHEN SHE’S THINKING ABOUT IT. HE RESPECTS THE TIME IT TAKES FOR HER TO LET HIM TOUCH HER. but he reminds her constantly that she is beautiful. he wouldn’t let anything harm her. 

&& in the house, only Emmett && maybe Edward ( but also not really??? bc he calls her an assassin… even though he KNEW the reason && KNEW that she didn’t enjoy it… && calls her a drama queen )  truly know how she feels && respect whats shes been through. now im not saying that they should treat her like gold or walk on egg shells around her. BUT no one reaches out to her.  && in midnight sun, when alice says how she should think about someone other than herself… it strikes a cord in rosalie BECAUSE SHE WAS THINKING ABOUT EDWARD. it was done in an “eeeehh it could’ve been handled better” kind of way… && she did just want her family together again… BUT everyone else had no plan. she had a plan. she went through with it. her selfless acts completely overshadowed by her more selfish attitude. 

NOT TO MENTION that when rosalie wants to kill bella… it’s NOT BECAUSE SHE DOESN’T LIKE BELLA ( kinda ). its because THE ONE FAMILY SHE HAS will be killed if anything goes bad… the volturi will kill her parents && edward ( who she has known the longest out of anyone else aside from carlisle & esme ), HER MATE, && jasper & alice, who have become her family. SHE THINKS SELFLESSLY but because she cares about her appearance… she’s selfish 100% of the time. 

alsooooo, she could be seen as the outcast of the family. all her siblings have a gift. emmett has incredible strength. carlisle helps people, has compassion, && is  most of their creators. && esme has love, a strong love for everyone. her “gift”, enhanced beauty, is nothing compared to that. her skill is the most human, a skilled mechanic. she brings nothing to the table —-  going back to using the narcissistic && self-centered attitude as a defense mechanism. 

all in all, idk how to bring it all together so i just vomited everything i feel about rosalie hale. because everything she does, has a reason. it’s bullshit to just call her the queen bitch when she’s had trauma happen to her with no help provided for her. 

[its-morphin-time-xiv]

<== Why do we fall ==>

Thunder strikes again...

How many could that have been now?

The lightning of the levin gods flashed across the western skies as a lone ranger stood on a small set of ruins, overlooking a broken valley. A crag so deep that only the pitch black of the deep could be seen from the highest point. An endless waterfall seemed to simply flow into the maw of the abyss. The hyur in armor had been there for hours, lost in their thoughts.

No purple eyes could be seen on the helmet, the entire suit's magitek systems were off. She had been sleeping in the armor, there was no question about it. The dusted winds seemed to cake the purple colors with the brown earth as it blew past. For days on end she had been alone, her mind subjected to memories as she had no voice but those within. Echoes of the past ebbed at her day in and day out as she attempted to keep her muddied mind clear.

Yet every effort was met with two fold the amount of memories. The only clarity she could gain was from the Good Doctor, and yet she hadn't spoken to her... No, she hadn't in quite some time. Every member of the network was clearly recovering from the rescue attempt within the void to save their comrade, Araris. While met with success there were losses. There were always losses. Crion had lost an eye and Defiant Bride had been hurt to ends untold truthfully.

The booming clatter rattled the valley and ridge Belladonna remained on, the prattle of the Glass Network's linkpearl filled the close air.. Nothing important. Despite the various volumes of noise around her, nothing seemed to capture her interest. Only the whispers of the dead and gone could seem to garner her glances.

Each twitch.. each glance to the side, there she could see a face. A face different every time, one that she knew, one that she loved, and one that she had seen die. Every blink took her away from the ridge and placed her in a world of the past. Each time, her heart ached, struggling to pace itself enough for the woman to understand, to even breathe.. to even live.

They were the faces of her fellow Imperials, her neighbors, her childhood friends whom she'd grown up with and enlisted into the Corps with. Years had gone by, and death claimed them all, always leaving the mutant hyur alone. The seconds of memories turned to minutes... the minutes to hours. Somber warm tears flittered through the woman's vision, blurring every sight as she fought her body to remain still, to remain standing, to not cry.

Although, no matter how hard she could and would fight, the tears came as the voices and faces she knew began to fade in and out of memory, her mind taking her to the places she didn't want to be. Sobs began to join the already cluttered air as Bella couldn't resist the trembles and tremors of her mind and body. Down to the ground she fell, hands clutching the helmet as tears slipped through the visor and down to the dusted earth below.

Oh how she longed for someone to stay with her, even for a night, even if for just fleeting seconds. But she knew no one could... because no one would. She was nothing but a passing soul, burdened by actions and choices she had made that damned others to the blackened oblivion. Every choice she made, ate at her heart, it ate away at everything in her. Yet if anyone were to ask, if anyone were to seek her out.. There wouldn't be tears, no.

Belladonna would force a smile, a wounded one worked just as well as any other. Always would she smile for them, never to let them know she hurt. Even then she struggled to keep her stoic persona as well as the souls that walked the path before her did. She wasn't someone who could live up to what they expected, what they wanted.. what they needed. Each step forward seemed like a step lost in any direction, no forward, or back.. just lost in time.. lost in space.

That's what it seemed like to her, one bit of bad luck after the other. A broken heart trailing a shattered dream, one bay memory in the sea of horrors. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The hyur remained on the ground, on her knees and sobbing loudly into the night's storm filled sky. The rain that seemed to sprinkle the earth now turned to a flooding rush of wind and rain, yet even the cold touch of rain could meet the woman's skin. She remained in her armor, to deprive herself of the satisfaction, to deprive herself of the warmth of another, to hide away the emotions she felt for those she cared for, to harden... to become the last Ranger.

Hard did she fall, harder was she falling to reach this level. Yet as she fell, no one was there to catch her. Those that had promised such things were away, unattentive, uncaring, or gone.

As the falling rain softened the earth to create sifting puddles, there was a lingering shimmer of the darkness. Simply slithering through the waves and droplets to silently form behind the broken woman. Belladonna wasn't here... she was lost in her mind again.. just like how she always was when the memories took her. The horrors, the terrors, the heart-wrenching failures and losses.. they swept her up so easily when no one was near.

They haunted her.

But as the terrors of the past haunted her...

So too... did She.

"W͘h͡y̸ ͞do we f̡a҉ĺl,̷ ̨m̛y҉ dear B̴elladonna?"̡ ͞  A sickening voice arose, guttural and waving. A smile tore itself across the Daemond's face, splitting the skin from ear to ear. Her teeth chittering with delight as the aetherial black leaked from the darkened abyss that were her eyes.

"You̵ ͞k̵n͢ǫw̛ the ̶a̶ns̶wer̸...̸ ͡C̨o͘m̀e͢ on̸~"͘

Elizabeth took silent ethereal steps forward, coming to a kneel before the tearful mutant midlander. Despite the ever present smile, there grew a mocking frown, followed by a few dismal chitters. "T͝s҉k͟ ́t͢sk ̕t̷s͟k.͜."̨

"So.. sad.."

"So..  broken.."

"You can never hide from me, not here, not out there.. not anywhere.."

"͏T͝h̛os͝e yǫu̴ ́ća͝re҉ ̕f͟o̴r.. ̸e̕he.͜.̸ the͞y ̕c͜an͝'͠t h̨i͡de̸ ͏ei̴t͜h҉e͜r.̨"

Bella was reluctantly pulled from her bleak dreams, her purple hues fixating on the shimmering visage of what once was before her. Tears still yet trickled from the helmet's visor, as if mimicking what was beneath the metal shell.

"Awh.. do not look at me so.. a certain.. knight I heard once said to the light.. that a smile better suited a hero.."

"Perhaps he was right.. but I... we know you... you are no hero."

"And that woman you care so, so much for? Will not be there for you.."

"After all, I did have a word with her.. and she.. she told me what we both knew from the very beginning.."

"̕Yo̷u are ̧br̵ok͟e͏n͜.̧"

"And who could ever love such a broken soul...?"

"You're not whole... yet you wish to be."

"She cannot make you feel that warmth that you wish so very much for.. that light.. that love that you want."

"But I... I can."

Beneath every word there was a whisper of mocking laughter. It trailed the falling rain, reaching the woman's mind as she struggled to remain coherent, her mind spinning to every corner of time, to every memory all at once. Eventually the darkness overtook the woman in armor, the purple warrior slumping to the ground with a slosh of the puddles below and a small thud.

"My my... oops~"

"So easy... so.. simple."

"But she is lost... so perfect."

There she lay still, her mind drifting through the terror filled memories.. the losses, all of them. Elizabeth rose to a full stand, her entire being slowly being swept away in the passing rainy winds. Her darkened laughter dancing through the air till nothing was left but the thunderous rancor of the stormy night and the idle sobs that still came from Belladonna..

"One by one.. I'll tear her apart.. piece by piece... until she is nothing.. and the child.. finally mine."

[golshxd-blog]

Welcome to the results of this month’s “Loved Ones” challenge. The idea was to send in photographs of things, objects, ideas, places … we love and fear might one day disappear out of our lives. Or about loss and disappearance themselves. Not only that, but photographs made in such a way that the love would shine through the photographs to the readers viewing them, even those who feel nothing about the subject.

  Incy Wincy

  Once again, this was very difficult. Not only because you were asked to reveal something about yourself, something intimate, but also because it is so hard to convey an emotion to someone else when we are ourselves locked into it and lack the objectivity to think formally.

I love those practical exercises. They are infuriatingly hard but so efficient to push us upwards. Always the educator at heart, right 😉 Kinda strange, coming from someone so bad at being educated himself 😀

Anyway, as always, I am blown away by what some of you have sent in. To me, the ability to convey a variety of emotions while retaining a consistent style is the hallmark of a great photographer and that’s what I’ve been observing in many of your contributions over the months. Some are moving, others are thought provoking. Great work.

Thank you all so much for taking the time to create/find images and sending them in for us to enjoy. Since the photographs on this page are very personal I will refrain from any commentary and simply publish whatever texts authors agreed to link to the images. On with the show.

(as always, I’m stressed out about forgetting someone’s work. Last time it was Kristian and this time, I have the feeling someone sent in just one photo, and can’t find it, and it’s nagging me. Please accept my apologies if your contribution isn’t in here and just drop me a line in the comments so I can correct my mistake …)

  Philippe Berend

  Philippe writes : “Here are my first pictures. They embody or symbolize, or represent nature. The unbelievable, almost painful, unbearable beauty of it. I worry that, one day, most probably through man’s folly, it will be gone like the dodo bird…

    The second theme is Paris. The song says, “Paris sera toujours Paris”. But if Notre-Dame can burn, what is really safe, really there “forever”?

    The third theme is: beautiful fast cars. Could it be that, in order to perserve what is left of our planet, we have to give up these extraordinary objects of beauty, desire, thrill and freedom? Could it be that I have been part of the last generation to have ridden a Ferrari at 265kmh on a motorway?

    The fourth theme, of course, and it ought to be the first, is my mother, who will in just over a week turn 98, God willing. I love her, and, know for a fact that she won’t be there forever. I hope you will forgive me fo not putting up her picture, which I consider private. Nah, the real reason is, the years are not always kind to faces of loved ones. And she, for sure, would not forgive me, for putting up a picture of her in her old age, when she was once so radiantly beautiful… And the Bard said “hell hath no fury like a woman posted on DS against her will….

  Michael Fleischer

  Michael writes: “a photo of a place dear to me – the lake close by where I grew up I Denmark – where I spent my youth fishing, swimming, kissing and more…”

  Jean Pierre Guaron

  Jean Pierre writes “The first was taken with my Pentax, c. 2002 – my second Dobermann, Chloe. I’ve always adored this photo, and in fact it’s my screen saver, in front of me every day. It’s not 100% SOOC, but it hasn’t had much post processing, because in those days I had limited access to post processing software (ONLY PS Elements, in one of its early iterations) and very little knowledge or experience with digital processing. Actually it was scanned onto the computer, from AGFA color negative film and given a bit of a touch up from there. I love the colours, the bokeh, the typical expression on her face – and she was my best friend, except for all the others.

    The second was one of many, taken at a time when my friend Kath’s older Dachshund Bella seemed to me to be nearing the end of her life.  Without wanting to alarm Kath, I started taking photos of Bella on a regular basis, so that when the inevitable happened, at least she would have some decent photos of her little girl, to remember her by and to ease the pain of losing her. 

    My present Dobermann, Cris – taken with the D500 and a zoom AF lens (AF is an overwhelming reason for not going with the larger gear, like the D850 and the Otus’s)”

    Brian Nicol

  Brian Writes: “I have always wanted one of the classic thunderbirds. We lived in California around 2000 for about 5 years. I was driving my wife’s car by myself and say a late fifties red thunderbird convertible approaching in the opposite direction. It was like a scene out of American Graffiti. I did not notice traffic has stopped and I drove into the back of a 70’s Volvo with the giant bumper that wiped out the grill and rad of my wife’s car. I have even more emotion now when I see a pristine thunderbird.”

  Pascal Jappy

  I suppose starting with the most endangered is probably the most in line with the challenge.

So wildlife it is. I love wildlife and the outdoors. My life is largely indoors, these days, but recent hiking photographs by my son reminded me just how much I miss it. Anytime something is wrong, being out with (friendly) wildlife just makes it all go away.

    Art. Probably not at any risk of disappearing. Our societies are crumbling faster than sand castles at high tide at the hands of populist devils. It’s sad and will only get sadder as the years pass.

But the great news is that art thrives in those conditions. Not paintings made for oligarch wives (although the concentration of money in the hands of a few does make that market happy as well). Real Art, made by people freed of their smartphones and tired of Facebook. People willing to think about life’s meaning from up close.

    I love London. It’s a ridiculous city, architecturally, with stuff sticking out of other stuff in every which direction. “A man tired of London is tired of life” wrote Samuel Johnson and that’s certainly true from a photographic perspective. A hundred times or more, I’ve visited, never have I made the same photographs twice.

    Traveling. I love it. Particularly with family. Environmental concerns make it a little harder to enjoy without feeling some guilt these days, but it is probably the last luxury I would like to give up 😉

    Astronomy made it easy for me to cruise through school. Whether we had a lesson about some murderous hero of the past or about the damping of springs or about some really important protein that makes monkeys fart (I wish) or about the dative of comounds, my note books were full of drawings of telescopes, and buildings, and telescopes and planets, and telescopes and stars …

To me today, astronomy symbolises time. The time I’m no longer making to observe and read about the heavens is time stolen from thinking about the deeper meaning of things, stolen by the mundane and unimportant. Life slipping away.

    Oh, and what’s life without a cat? Why not forfeit cookies and milk while we’re being barbaric. I mean …

    Bob Kruger

  Bob writes : “The sarcophagi in Key West, FL are not buried, as the water table is too high. So the burial chambers are stacked like cord wood so they will not float off. A weathered flag keeps watch.

    Jim used to rent a “villa” every winter in the Conch Republic, aka Key West, Fl. I memorialized his veranda during his last visit.

    I took this picture of an abandoned fish house from around the corner where I once lived in Pamlico County, NC, an un-destination if ever there was one.

    How many childrenonce traveled to school on this relic, now forgotten,in Florence, NC.

    Family cemeteries tell their own stories.”

    Paul Perton

  Paul sends this series of portraits without words of this wonderful land he has to leave behind for a while. No words are needed.

    Nancee Rostad

  Nancee sends those 3 gripping images of desolation.

    Lad Sessions

  Lad writes: “The Chessie Trail lies below our property, and I walk it frequently.  It’s a converted rail line (the “Chessie” was short for “Chesapeake and Ohio Railroad”) and winds along the Maury River, a tributary of the James River.  Here are four shots taken at different times and places that express my affection for this “nature trail.”  There are many more…

Hope one of these strikes cords of affection in your heart too.”

They sure do …

    Kristian Wannebo

  Kristian’s series is entitled “Forest, left alone”.

  Shot with DxO ONE

  John Wilson

  John writes: “They are all shooting locations and will need some explanation. The Richmond Night Market was a Street Photographers wet dream. Lots of action in a limited space, great lighting exotic atmosphere and great street food. One of my all time favourite shooting locations. The old parking lot had a fantastic mural along the length of one side and a poster covered wall at the end. The wall behind the poster wall was covered in graffiti and vivid paint. After a rain there would be pools in the parking lot to reflect the mural and there was always lots of reflections in the car windows and metal surfaces. A fabulous place to shoot. The umbrella shop was one of only two stores I’ve ever seen that specialized in umbrellas. Their window was always colourful and being under a bridge the light was always soft and even … perfect for catching the reflections of passing cars and pedestrians. Another much loved location. Sadly they are now all gone … “

    June Challenge: and now for something completely different

  Nope, that is not the name of a contributor. April Flowers, Theresa May, June Challenge, July Andrews … ya know …

No, this is the RFP (fancy!) for your photographs for the new DS challenge for the month of June. Just sounds better the short way. June agrees.

Now, in the past months, we’ve explored serious, almost heavy, topics such as things we love and fear to lose (not the city, Paris and London are enough for one page), Haiku, vital energy … I’d like to do a fun and silly one for a change.

  Carter and June

  Antropomorphism would be the appropriate name for what I have in mind, but it feels a bit too serious for the fun mood of the challenge. How often have you seen objects or shadows or plants or … that look like human faces? Sometimes funny, sometimes spooky, sometime interesting … if you’ve made pictures of those, please send them to me (pascal dot japppy at gmail dot com). In the example above, the box on the left, the guy with the 66 bow-tie eying pretty pink June, actually seems more interesting than the overly obvious one on the right.

So bring it, or bring them. Juno, I can’t wait to see what you found 🙂

  Posted on DearSusan by pascaljappy.

[the-wandering-whumper]

I was tagged by my Killjoys buddy @daviinjaqobis​ for these 85 q’s!

I’m tagging a few new friends, but please feel free to do this if you want to!  @the-whumpy-fangirl​ @bookemfangirl​ @sexy-psycho-killer​ @rocanono​ @scifichic4639​

Under the cut because long post ~

 The Last …

1. drink: Diet Pepsi (even though I’m supposed to be giving up caffein)

2. phone call: My cousin who came into town for a surprise visit :)

3. text message: My neighbor thanking her for watching my cats while I was on vacation

4. song you listened to: She Lit a Fire by Lord Huron

5. time you cried: Saturday while I was dealing with some intense pain 

6. dated someone twice: This is not something I’m proud of, lol. It was a bad idea the first time and an even worse idea the next.

7. kissed someone and regretted it: I've never regretted a single one

8. been cheated on: not that I’m aware of

9. lost someone special: Too many

10. been depressed: Oh yeah

11. gotten drunk and thrown up: Once or twice

 Favorite Colors…

12. Blue

13. Purple

14. Silver

 In The Last Year Have You…

15. made new friends: yes!

16. fallen out of love: Yup

17. laughed until you cried: There’s nothing better :)

18. found out someone was talking about you: I work with some petty people so it happens all the time

19. met someone who changed you: Not really

20. found out who your friends are: Nope

21. kissed someone on your facebook list: Nope

 General

22. how many of your facebook friends do you know in real life: 99.9% of them

23. do you have any pets: Two kitties, Bella and Lexi

24. do you want to change your name: My first name, no.  My last name, I think I might actually do it some day.  I have no love for the name my biological father gave me.  If I could, I’d use my mother’s maiden name in a heartbeat.

25. what did you do for your last birthday: Nothing much.  My coworkers took me out to lunch and I had dinner with family.

26. what time did you wake up: 5:20a

27. what were you doing at midnight last night: Watching Strike Back and giffing.  Oops.

28. name something you can’t wait for: TEEN WOLF

29. when was the last time you saw your mom: This weekend while we were camping.

31. what are you listening to right now: Rainy Day Singer Songwriter radio on Pandora :)

32. have you ever talked to a person named tom: I spend most of my days on the phone so I’m always talking to one Tom or another.

33. something that is getting on your nerves: The constant revolving door of characters on The Night Shift, lol.  Can’t they just keep the same cast for more than two seasons????

34. most visited website: Tumblr

35. hair color: Brown

36. long or short hair: I’ve been preferring it long lately

37. do you have a crush on someone: Yas

38. what do you like about yourself: I like my singing voice

39. piercings: Ears

40. blood type: O+

41. nickname: Rie

42. relationship status: Single 

43. zodiac: Technically Aries, but I’m right on the cusp of Pisces and identify with that sign much more. 

44. pronouns: she/her

45. favorite tv show: At the moment?  Killjoys and Strike Back

46. tattoos: 6: quotation marks on the inside of my right wrist, my grandfather’s name on my right inner arm, my other grandparent’s initials on the inside of my left wrist, a memorial tattoo for my brother on my left inner arm, a butterfly on my right shoulder and a music staff with notes and a treble clef on my left.

47. right or left handed: Righty

48. surgery: None so far *touch wood*

49. piercing: None

50. sport: I love playing and watching baseball

51. vacation: I’d be happy with my ass in the sand on a beach, and bundled up in a cozy cabin in the woods in the middle of winter.  I’m easy to please.

52. pair of trainers: Just some Nike’s i bought at Kohls

More General

53. eating: Just had some fried chicken

54. drinking: Just filled up my water bottle 

55. i’m about to: Finish this then gif some more Strike Back

56. waiting for: My niece’s yearly trip to visit 

57. want: To never have to work again

58. get married: Sure

59. career: I work in insurance.  I would love to be a writer or photographer

60. hugs or kisses: Both!

61. lips or eyes: Eyes forever

62. shorter or taller: Taller definitely

63. older or younger: Younger

64. nice arms or nice stomach: Arms

65. hook up or relationship: Relationship

66. troublemaker or hesitant: Troublemaker

67. kissed a stranger: Yes

68. drank hard liquor: Often

69. lost glasses/contact lenses: Lost my damn prescription sunglasses at Navy Pier earlier this year

70. turned someone down: Once

71. sex on the first date: I try not to, but its happened

72. broken someone’s heart: Doubt it

73. had your heart broken: I’ve never cried over someone, if that’s what you mean

74. been arrested: that’s a big fat no

75. cried when someone died: Oh yeah

76. fallen for a friend: Alas, yes

Do You Believe In …

77. yourself:  Sometimes

78. miracles: Yes

79. love at first sight: Yes

80. santa claus: Hell Yes

81. kiss on the first date: Yes

82. angels: Yes

Other

83. current best friends’ names: Hailee, Joel

84. eye color: Blue

85. favorite movie: Right now it’s Captain America: The Winter Soldier

[mr-rod-lestrange]

The worst part about prison was the boredom, they left them there all day and night with nothing to do, no books, no wine- nothing.he was still chained of course, they weren’t about to let the famous Lestrange patriarch have opportunity to strike a guard or try to get out.

What was left were the dementors, every day Rod relived every bad thing he’d ever done and every bad memory he had, it was maddening and if not for the fact he had the hope of seeing Bella again he would have ended it all. He felt his ring burn from time to time, which they mercifully let him keep though that in itself felt like torture.

Every day he waited to see if Bella got dragged in, like the auror that brought him in bragged he would do, as well as bragging what he would buy with Rods reward money. He ached for her and desperately wanted to see her but was pleased with every passing day she wasn’t brought in, she had more sense than he did, why didn’t he disguise himself properly?

It was hard to tell when one day ended and another began what with the sliver of light they got through the cell but Rod guessed he’d only been in a week, he still had his sanity left and hope of getting out, before the dementors advanced again and he was plunged into a pool of horrible self reflection where he relived every time he smacked her or was horrible and he vowed to himself to be a better man, if he had the chance to be anyway.