#miranda hilmarson x you

[dianneking]

The Set-Up - Miranda/Reader (Top of the Lake: China Girl)

Crossposted on AO3 - if you prefer to read it there, follow this link!

Summary: Reader is crushing hard on Miranda, and yet somehow ends up on a date with Robin organized by none other than Miranda herself. Light angst, mostly Miranda being a hot mess tbh.

Tags: Mutual pining, jealousy, fake relationship, spying on people, Miranda being a clueless hot mess (as per canon), lil’ bit of angst, matchmaker!Robin, height difference, smoking, present tense, second person pov, ungendered reader.  Words: 3767

The Set-Up

You watch as Miranda enthusiastically waves goodbye at Detective Griffin before coming to lean against the wall by your side. Wordlessly you offer her a cigarette out of your pack, and she accepts with a muttered Thank you, sticking it immediately between her lips and lighting it up. Maybe it’s because you are somewhat more tired, maybe it’s because today she looks particularly happy and it tugs at something deep within you, but today’s the day where you throw caution to the wind and ask her what you have been ruminating on for quite some time.

"So, what's the deal with you and Griffin, huh?"

"We're on another case together. It's a good one."

"Only that?"

"What else?"

"Come on, Hilmarson, are you really going to make me ask?"

"I... I don't understand what you mean."

"You two seem pretty close, that is all."

"We sorted out our differences."

"Isn't that just great?"

"What's wrong with you today? You are being more waspish than usual. Didn’t take enough smoke breaks?"

"Don’t try to change the subject. Are congratulations in order? Are you two an item now?"

"What? No!"

"...if you say so."

"We really aren't! She's like my sister or something. Is that what was pissing you off?"

"Of course not! Why would I care if you and Griffin were hitting it off?"

"Oh my god, it is. You are jealous."

"No I'm not"

"You so are!"

"Am not"

"Are too!"

"Piss off!"

You shove her playfully, but doing so makes you painfully aware of your height difference, and you feel suddenly very small and nervous. If your crush for Miranda is so evident that even herself can call you out on it, you are worse off than you thought you were.

You try to sneak a glance up at her, and you see her beautiful face corrugated in a frown, as if trying to piece together a puzzle. Has she already figured out everything? Maybe you should consider making a tactical retreat before you dig yourself too deep into a hole. But at the same time, you are not willing to give up any time the two of you spend together.

Damn. She's so out of your league it's not even funny, you think, watching how the warm glow of the afternoon sun shines through her blonde eyelashes. You should probably have been more careful in letting your feelings known, you think as the silence stretches on uncomfortably. Now there's going to be that embarrassed little dance of her trying to let you down and you telling her that it's okay (it's not), you understand (you do), and that you hope you two can still be friends (you really, really do). You are not ready to give up your smoke breaks spent together, all the laughter, the jokes, the heart to heart talks. Miranda is the brightest part of your day, and you'll be damned if you'll do anything to hurt your friendship.

 "Hey I... I think you might have a chance, you know?"

"What?" You barely manage to choke out. Is she…

"Yeah, Robin is single you know. And you are witty and smart like her, you two would get on like a house on fire."

Oh no.

The implications of that sentence hit you like a cold shower. Is she really that clueless or is it some sort of joke? She's not the person to purposefully try to hurt you by mocking your crush, you know her well enough for that. You know she means well, and yet your heart sinks as surely as a rock in cold water. She's totally misunderstood, but that in itself is an answer.

"Miranda, that's not..."

"You know what? I can set you two up for a date!" She whips her phone out before you can try to get in a word, her tongue peeking out of her lips in a show of concentration as she types away. You try your best not to stare at her mouth as she does so, but you are entranced. So much so that you miss your only occasion to stop her.

"There you go!" she announces with a satisfied smile as the phone pings with Griffin's answer "She says she's up for grabbing lunch with you at Tony's tomorrow if you pay for it."

You try to swallow your disappointment, but it stays as a bitter knot in your throat. She might not be dating her detective partner, but she for sure isn't interested in you, if she's so quick to try set you up with her. She looks down at you, with so much excitement shining on her face that for a moment you get lost in those sparkling blue eyes. She's so gorgeous, and sunny, and kind. You really cannot be blamed for falling for her. It's just your usual rotten luck that she only sees you as a friend. So much so as to play matchmaker for you.

And you are so desperately in love with her that you cannot bring yourself to burst her bubble, to be the reason that her infectious smile drops from her lips, and so you don’t say anything. You don’t tell her that when the two of them storm through the station on their way to another case, or when they lean together, their heads close as they look at the computer screen together, it is not Griffin that you can’t take your eyes off from.

"So, what do you say?"

"Uhm…sure, I guess…"

“But of course, that’s what friends are for, isn’t it? You go get your girl!”

You shrug, trying to squash down the hurt that the word friend carries. You might as well go to this lunch with Griffin, hopefully you might be able to pull out of her whether Miranda is seeing someone else. Not that that would change much, would it? You should start trying to resign yourself to the fact that you really have no chance with her.

Also, Miranda looks positively giddy with excitement at having set the two of you up. Not when she has so resolutely stated that she only thinks of you as a friend. You are not going to make a fool of yourself confessing feelings that won’t be welcome and would only make your interactions awkward. Grabbing a bite with Griffin is for sure the lesser embarrassment of the two. Or at least the least damaging for your friendship. Because even if you can't have Miranda as your girlfriend, you are going to fight tooth and nail not to lose her as a friend.

 You only hope that Griffin won't be an arse about it.

“Why are we even here? Didn't you have a huge crush on Miranda?”

Obviously, it had been too much to ask for.

“...”

“I’ll take that as a yes. So why let her set you up with me?”

“If you knew that already, why did you agree to this date?”

“I wanted some free lunch.”

“Oh wow. Way to make someone feel appreciated, Griffin.”

“And I was curious.”

“Were you?”

“Yeah, I wanted to see what she sees in you.”

“Nothing much, probably, if she tried to peddle me to you at the first chance she got.”

You try to keep the bitterness out of your tone, but you still bite viciously into your sourdough sandwich, and you can hear Griffin scoff.

“Oh please, it's obvious that she's pining for you just as much as you are for her.” You can feel yourself burning with embarrassment. Still better than the alternative, you remind yourself. It's just a lunch.

“I might even believe you if she hadn’t just put me firmly in the friendzone, so please, Griffin, can you drop this and just enjoy your free food?"

 Miranda tries not to feel guilty as she peeks beyond the wall corner to watch her two colleagues through the window of the café. She just wants to see how the date goes, that's all. Since she's the one who made it possible and all of that, she feels somewhat responsible for it. Like a fairy godmother for your budding relationship. Her friend and her work partner hitting it off…that has to be a good match, right?

Everybody agrees that Robin is the absolute best detective in the station. And you...well, you deserve nothing but the best. And if you two work it out, she won't have to share her free time between the two of you, right? The three of you will be able to hang out together all the time, and all will be just grand. One big happy family.

She can see the two of you in conversation, and cannot help the nervous tapping of her fingers on the wall she's hiding behind. She can see you shrug, an embarrassed grimace on your face. She can see how red your ears have turned - she can't get over how cute you are when you blush. For all of your tough talk, she thinks affectionately, you really are just a big softie. Have you already told Robin of your crush for her?

What will her reaction be?

Maybe Robin will reject you, and of course Miranda will be there to help you through your heartbreak, to comfort you as you had done for her when her affair – it’s a relationship, babe – with Adrian had crumbled like a sandcastle built too close to the ocean. Because that’s what friends do for each other, right? And Miranda is very happy to be your friend.

She absolutely is.

Really.

It's just that…

It's just that sometimes she allows her mind to run free, and she finds herself wondering how it would feel for once to hold your hand as you lean against the wall outside the station side by side, how your hair would feel if she buried her hands in it, how your lips would taste if she were to… No. She really shouldn’t. You're her friend, and she's pretty sure normal people don’t think about kissing their friend.

Unless they have romantic feelings for their friend. And she surely doesn't. Does she?

…

Fuck.

She totally has romantic feelings for you.

How hasn't she noticed? How long has she been feeling this way towards you and mistaking it for friendship? Suddenly she feels like bashing her head against the rough brick wall. How could she have been so dumb? She has even helped to set you up with Robin! Wow, good job, Hilmarson. Great. Couldn't she have realised it like two days ago? Even for her standards - she's the first to admit that she has messed up multiple times in her life - that's one major cock-up.

 “See? She's totally into you as well, she's even spying on our date.”

“That might just be because she is curious. If she wanted me, why would she try to set me up with you? Come on, Griffin, you must be smarter than this. Aren't you supposed to be the best detective in Australia or something?”

“Ha-ha, such a flatterer. Look, I know what I’m seeing. And lucky for you, I’ve got an idea.”

“Lord help us all.”

“What if I pretended to go along with it?”

“Griffin, I am flattered, but I thought we had already been over how I'm not interested in you.”

“That's why I said pretended, genius. She’ll see us together, get jealous and realize her feelings for you.”

“She won't. You might be a decent detective, but you suck at relationship advice. Oi! Remove your hand from mine, this is ridiculous.”

 She shouldn't still be here, Miranda thinks, and yet she can't seem to be able to rip her eyes away from the way Robin has grasped your hand above the coffee table, her face opening in a lopsided smile.

This isn't fun anymore. Not since she's realised how badly she has fucked up in helping you two out. Miranda swallows, her eyes never leaving Robin as she slides out of her side of the booth and moves to sit beside you. She's never seen that sort of playful grin on Robin's face, unless she was totally hammered, and to see it when she's sober, and on a date with you of all people… Robin wants you too, doesn't she?

Well, of course she does. I mean, look at you, you are lively, smart, funny, attractive, and Robin might be many things, but she for sure isn’t blind or stupid. She has to know how much of a catch you are.

Miranda can only watch helplessly as Robin - the same Robin who refuses all sort of affectionate contact, struggling to even hug her own daughter - is leaning into you, nuzzling your neck, and whispering something in your ear. You jolt up as if electrocuted, and turn towards her, shock clear on your face. What has she said to you? Miranda feels like she's going insane, stuck on the outside looking in.

And then Robin chooses that moment to plant a kiss square on your lips.

Miranda turns tail and flees.

 “What the fuck, Griffin?”

“It's gonna work, trust me. I know Miranda.”

  Miranda leans against the wall next to the station, in what over the years she has come to think of as your spot. If she closes her eyes, she can almost fool herself into thinking you’re by her side, as you always are, cigarette dangling from your lips, always ready with a sarcastic quip, or a funny retort. Except you're not there. You're still on your stupid happy date, that she had pushed you into, like the moron she is.

She's been chainsmoking since she came back from spying on you, and the longer it takes for you to come back, the more harshly she pulls in the smoke between her teeth, trying to lessen her stress. Trying not to picture what you and Robin could be doing that's taking the both of you so damn long.

She tries to ignore the painful constriction of her heart at what her traitorous mind conjures up. The mere thought of Robin's small hands safely ensconced in your bigger ones, of her mouth exploring yours as Miranda had been dreaming of doing even before she recognized her feelings for you, of the two of you hugging or worse, makes her want to scream at the top of her lungs and hit something.

But she can't.

You're her friend, she should want you to be happy, shouldn't she? And if that means stepping aside and supporting you in your relationship with Robin, of course she'll do just that. Because Robin is the one you're interested in and there's nobody on earth Miranda can think is more different from her than Detective Griffin. Robin simply is everything Miranda has never been: petite, professional, smart, careful and precise. It's no wonder you like her and not big, clumsy, helpless Miranda.

Miranda, who's a terrible friend and cannot even support you wholeheartedly in your new budding relationship.

Miranda shakes her head, dropping the butt of her cigarette to the ground and moodily stepping on it. She should be happy for you, should be grateful to be allowed to be your friend, it's not like she has  a whole lot of those anyways. The sooner she starts to accept the fact that there's no hope for anything more between you two, the better it'll be for her poor heart.

She just didn't expect it to hurt so much.

But what's taking you so long? Is that how it's going to be from now on? You and Robin, so wrapped in each other that you forget about Miranda, leaving her alone once again, cast aside, begging for scraps of affection from her friends?

She can feel the tears filling her eyes at the mere thought.

 "You're back! How…how did it go?"

Miranda’s smile is too big, her eyes too watery for it to be sincere. For the first time you allow yourself to hope against all hopes that maybe, maybe Robin has a point.

But maybe you are just seeing what you want to see.

“Are you alright, Miranda?" Her laugh is high, nervous and ends up in a sort of hiccup as she clumsily claps you on the shoulder, rocking you with the strength of the impact.

"Of course I am! Why wouldn’t I be, there’s a new, blooming romance in the station! And between my best friend and my partner, to boot! Isn't that just grand? Are you gonna tell all the others about it, or should I tell them and save you the pain?”

Her happy-go-lucky voice is so fake it twists your heart and almost makes you miss what she has said.

“Nonono, there will be no telling anything to the others!”

The last thing you need is for the whole fucking station to think you and Griffin are an item. You wouldn’t hear the end of it. It’s already bad that Miranda thinks that. And hopefully you can somehow clear that up.

“Is that something Robin asked you? Does she want to keep you as her dirty little secret? You shouldn’t settle for that! You deserve more!” She gesticulates wildly at this, her hands cutting the air with agitated gestures, as she defends your honor against imaginary slights.

“That’s not it, Miranda. It’s just-“ But she cuts you off before you can get a word in.

“You shouldn't hide your feelings! You two are totally made for each other. Go be unapologetically together!”

"Why are you so adamant in pushing us together?" You finally snap, irritatedly. She's not making any sort of sense. She's trying so hard to get the two of you together even if it's obvious that she's not happy in the least about it. And even though you are starting to think more and more that this might all be a huge misunderstanding, it cuts to hear the woman you love trying so hard to set you up with someone else. What if Robin wasn’t right? What if Miranda really only saw you as a friend and nothing more?

"What do you mean? Didn't the date go well? You sure looked like you were hitting it off pretty well, and you took your sweet time, too." She mutters the second part softly, as if it has come out of her mouth without her really wanting to, then promptly blushes a deep red.

You always found her adorable when she blushed.

"Miranda, I need to know it, why were you spying on us?"

"Oh god, you saw me? I… Uhm I…I just happened to drop by Tony's, I had totally forgotten that the two of you were there. So I uhm hid, because I didn’t want to make it uncomfortable for you. Hehe, that’s all."

"Is… Is it possible that you might like me?" You throw all caution to the wind because really, at this point you need a clear answer.

"No!" She answers too quickly "Of course not! You are my friend. I like you as a friend!" Hope stirs once again, but you don't dare to believe it quite yet. Not while she keeps denying everything.

"Miranda, you are many good things, but you are a terrible liar."

She suddenly rights herself from where she was leaning against the wall and makes as if to move towards the station.

"Well, I…I need to go. I just realized that my lunchbreak was over like five minutes ago and I-"

You stop her, a hand on her wrist, and a pleading tone to your voice.

"No, please. Stay. I…"

She stops, but she stays with her back to you. When she speaks, her voice wavers ever so slightly.

“You don’t have to spare my feelings, I know what you want to say.”

“You…do? ‘Cause it seems to me that this is all a huge misunderstanding.”

“Of course. A misunderstanding. Sure, that’s one way to put it. Just another big clumsy mess, made by big clumsy Miranda. I guess we’re used to it by now, aren’t we?”

She turns now, and you are shocked to see tears streaking down her face.

“That’s not what-“

“It's OK,” she interrupts you once again, angrily wiping the wetness off her face as she looks at you with a solemn, sad look into those beautiful big blue eyes of hers, “I know that you like Robin, I would never do anything to ruin your chance with her. You really make a perfect couple, I am serious about it. I just need a little time to adjust.” Her voice is picking up speed, as if it's impossible to stop now that she's started, “I am so grateful to have you as a friend, it's not like I expected you to return my feelings. Hell, I didn't recognise them for what they are until I saw the two of you together. And I would never let something like that ruin our friendship. Everything can stay perfectly the same, even if you are with Robin and…and I know I am a terrible friend that has fallen for you after setting you up with your crush but I want you to be happy and please don't hate me."

You blink under the onslaught of words she's unleashed on you, and when she abruptly stops, all that can be heard in the small alley to the side of the station is her heavy breathing, as if she had just run a marathon. Her shoulders are shaking and you can't see her face, dipped as it is into her collarbone in shame.

Your heart breaks at seeing her like this, at the sheer thought that Miranda could believe even for one second that you hate her.

You stand right in front of her, cradling her red, downturned face in your hands, tilting it ever so slightly up from where it was staring at the pavement, so you can once again look directly into her beautiful blue eyes, now swimming with tears and swirling emotions.

She's such a mess, you think affectionately. But she's a lovely mess with the biggest of hearts, and you wouldn’t want her any other way.

"Miranda, I could never ever hate you. In fact, it's quite the opposite. I… I think I love you."

"As…as a friend?"

"No, dearest, no, not as a friend."

And you hope there's no mistaking your intentions now as you press your lips to hers in a kiss that the both of you have been daydreaming about for way too long to admit.

Liked it? You can find more of my fanfiction on my masterlist!

[milfsloverblog]

Friday Nights (NSFW)

Miranda Hilmarson x fem!reader

A/N: Nobody requested this fic, I just woke up this morning with the visceral need to write it. And so I did. Enjoy this smutty domestic fluff <3

AO3 link in title

Miranda loved the routine that had set itself up between the two of you on Friday nights. 

She’d come home around 5 pm, 6 if Robin held her back a little longer, and you’d be in the kitchen busying yourself with making dinner. 

“It smells absolutely delicious in here.” Miranda wrapped her arms around your body from behind, placing a soft kiss on the crook of your neck. “Sorry I’m late, babe. Robin’s been stressing the whole station with this new case.” 

“You’re not late, you’re just in time.” You smiled and pecked her lips. “Have a quick shower, I’ll set the table and get everything ready.” 

“Mhm.” Miranda agreed and reluctantly let go of you to walk to the bathroom. 

You couldn’t help but steal a glimpse as she walked away, how you loved the way she looked in her uniform. You bit your lip and shook the dirty thoughts away. 

“You look good in that apron,” Miranda said when she walked out of the bathroom a moment later. She crossed the kitchen and pulled you in for a soft kiss. “Let me take it off of you later?” She purred against your lips, earning herself a gentle swat on the arm. 

“Sit down.” You said, nodding towards the table where dinner was waiting. 

“Yes, ma’am.” Miranda grinned and settled at her spot at the table. 

She watched as you moved around the kitchen, her eyes never leaving your back. You heard her breath hitch when you opened the fridge and bent down to grab a bottle of white wine, no doubt that her gaze had fallen on your ass. 

“How was work?” You asked, pouring two glasses before settling down in front of your lover. 

“You know I don’t like bringing work at home, even less over dinner. But if you really want to know-“ The blonde started. 

A woman, a magician’s assistant, had been found dead in her hotel room, tied to a chair and with a bullet in her skull. She was still wearing her sequinned costume when they found her, a deck of cards had been scattered on the floor around the chair and the ace of hearts had been shoved inside her mouth. 

Robin and Miranda had been working on the case for a few weeks but didn’t seem to make much progress which made Detective Griffin easily irritable. More than she usually was. 

You didn’t particularly enjoy hearing about the gory details of Miranda’s work, but you knew she needed to get it off her chest from time to time, no matter how much she tried to deny it. 

Your lover’s shoulders looked visibly more relaxed when she finished telling you about her day. She had finally told Robin to stop texting her about work when she was at home. 

“When I’m home, I’m with you. Not with Robin, not with any work matter.” Miranda had told you when her phone had buzzed for the third time in less than fifteen minutes the previous Friday. 

“Have you picked a movie for tonight?” Miranda snapped you out of your thoughts, taking a mouthful of salad and happily munching on it. 

“Mm? Oh, yes, yes I have.” You gave a nod and placed your cutlery down on your plate before pushing it away. “Since you picked Imagine Me & You last time, I thought we could watch Carol tonight?” 

“Yeah, sure!” Miranda said excitedly and you wondered how long it’d take until you’d both run out of sapphic movies to watch. 

When she was done eating, Miranda squeezed your hand and suggested you go change into your pyjamas while she cleared the table, which you happily agreed to. Filling the dishwasher was one of your least favourite thing to do, emptying it was a very close second. 

“Everything’s ready,” Miranda called from where she was sitting on the couch. “Just need you laying in my arms.” 

You chuckled softly and finished buttoning your silk pyjamas before joining your girlfriend in the living room. You made yourself comfortable, lying between Miranda’s legs with your back pressed to her chest. 

You pressed play on the movie and Miranda wrapped her arms around you, holding you close against her body. 

You’d seen the movie half a dozen times already, but it was Miranda’s first time and you loved listening to her commentary. 

“Do you think it’s possible to fall in love at first sight?” She whispered in your ear when Therese and Carol locked eyes. 

“What? Are you saying you didn’t fall in love with me the very second we looked at each other?” You tutted, feigning to be offended. 

“I spilled my frappuccino on your shirt at Starbucks, falling in love was the last thing I had in mind, not when the look you gave me scared me shitless.” Miranda laughed and you joined her, loving the way you could feel her chest moving up and down as she giggled behind you. 

“Fair enough,” you admitted. “Fair enough.” 

The two of you fell quiet again, except for Miranda’s occasional comment on how good Cate Blanchett looked, and her excited shriek when Sarah Paulson appeared on your screen. 

You absentmindedly brushed your fingers on the expanse of Miranda’s leg, unaware of the fire it ignited in your lover’s belly. Miranda knew there was no ulterior motive to your fingertips drawing patterns on her skin but, no matter how hard she tried to focus on the movie, all she could think about were the shivers your touch sent down her spine. 

Your eyes were locked on the tv screen, knowing Carol and Therese would soon share their first kiss, when you suddenly felt Miranda’s hand moving down your front only to stop on the elastic band of your trousers. 

You looked from the corner of your eye as your girlfriend’s slender fingers played with the drawstring until she gave it a gentle tug, silently requesting permission. 

“Yes.” You breathed out, laying your head back on Miranda’s shoulder. 

Miranda didn’t waste any more time, immediately slipping her hand inside your pants between silk fabric and silkier skin. She skillfully parted your lower lips and sank two fingers inside you with no preamble, relishing in the gasp it pulled from your lips. 

“Mira-“ You whined when she dragged her fingers out of you only the push them back inside deeper, making you clench around her knuckles. 

“I know, babe.” She purred in your ear as she started pumping her fingers in and out of you, the soft, slick sounds of the movement echoing in your living room and drowning out the distant movie dialogue. 

Pressed into Miranda’s front, you blushed a deep red as your skin grew hot. You easily opened up for your lover, your hips rocking onto her hand to invite her always deeper. Miranda felt like she could do this forever, holding you close as you fell apart in her arms. 

Suddenly she shifted you, keeping her fingers buried inside you as she helped you lie down until she was on top of you. She leaned forward, smiling at how your lips immediately parted, and flicked her tongue over them. With her free hand, she lifted your silk shirt, her mouth watering at the sight of your breasts. 

“You’re beautiful.” She whispered, keeping her eyes on you as she lowered herself to take one of your nipples in her mouth. She sucked for a moment before gently sinking her teeth in it and soothing the sting with her tongue, grinning when your hand flew into her hair to tug at it. 

Miranda trailed down your body, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses on your chest and the skin of your stomach. Her free hand swiftly removed your trousers before she settled between your spread thighs and lightly blew on your clit, making your thighs shudder on either side of her head. 

You nearly saw stars when Miranda finally wrapped her lips around your clit and sucked harshly, her fingers curling deep inside you. She licked and sucked, teasing the nub with the tip of her tongue and relishing in the way you struggled to keep your legs open around her head. 

When she felt you clench dangerously around her fingers, Miranda doubled her efforts, picking up the pace and sucking hard at your clit, determined to bring you to an earth-shattering release. 

It only took a few more pumps for the coil behind your navel to snap, Miranda’s name coming out of your lips again and again as you pushed her face deeper into your cunt, refusing to let go of her short blonde hair. 

“I love you.” Miranda sighed happily as she pulled her fingers out and kissed your clit. 

She sat up, stretched her back, and pecked your lips before getting on her feet and disappearing into the bathroom, coming out a few seconds later with a wet cloth. 

“You simply couldn’t resist, mm?” You smiled lazily, looking down as Miranda cleaned you up. 

“Who could blame me?” Miranda chuckled softly, dropping the cloth on the coffee table and helping you put your trousers back on. 

You settled back down into your original position between your lover’s legs and rewound the movie up until Therese and Carol’s first kiss. You smirked as you thought of the upcoming sex scene, knowing Miranda wouldn’t get to the end of the movie without moaning your name out and coming on your tongue. 

Miranda loved the routine that had set itself up between the two of you on Friday nights. And so did you.

————————————————————————

tag list: @weemssapphic @larissaoftarthweems @principal-weems09 @pro-weems-places @readingtheentrails @catechristiesstuff @kimiinou

[wifeofwandamaximoff]

Fine...

A/N: Sorry it took so long to update I just didn't really have the motivation also I usually don't proofread my work so I do apologize. Also I wanted to update as quick as I can while making this so its a bit smaller then I would've preferred but ill try to make a longer part next time! Also thank you Max for the tips!

"Come in." Weems said from the other side of the doors. Oh how her voice was so raspy and soft. It's like whenever she talks her words are coated in love spider webs.

I step into her office, mentally preparing myself to see her. Once i'm in her office I instantly see her red plump lips that look so inviting. I quickly shake my head slightly to get out of my trance.

"Im here for our art lesson." I said with my stoic expression, my voice sounding like a hundred freshly made blades.

"Ah yes Miss Addams, I apologize I lost track of time." She said apologetically. Which I stared at her. The air in the room wasn't awkward but it wasn't comfortable either. She then decided to interrupt the silence.

"Follow me to the art studio then, this is where we will meet up instead of you coming to my office just like today." She smiled while standing up and walking around her desk.

She opened the door for me, I then step out of her office and wait for her to lead the way. When she was walking on her way to walk in front of me our hand's gently grazed each other. Making me feel spiders crawl in my stomach.

"Here we go Miss Addams." She smiled sweetly while opening a door. Inside there were a bunch of blank canvases, art supplies, etc. Basically any art supplies that some artist wished to have is right here in this very room.

I scan the room to see two canvases set up for the both of us and two stools. I look back at her to see her smiling at me with that soft smile that could make even an Addams's heart melt.

"Lets begin Miss Addams." She smiled, gesturing towards the stools. I stay quiet and go sit on one of the stools. She then goes to occupy the other one.

"Now Miss Addams what do you already know about art?" She asks me. I look at her, thinking if I should answer her or not. Eventually I decided to.

"About how to make art or what is art?" I asked in my icy cold tone. I see her a shiver a bit from that tone making my lips twitch in a small smirk. I quickly turn away, hoping she didn't see it.

"Well I suppose I should be more specific, what is art Miss Addams?" She said while clearing her throat. I see her starting to take off her gloves to reveal her soft porcelain skin.

Seeing her pale skin makes me shiver, but of course my skin was paler. "Art is a way of communicating with your thoughts and feelings, but thats the deeper meaning. Art is an object that is expressed with skill and imagination." I said while getting some acrylic paint out.

Weems just looks at me with a soft smile. "You think outside the box Miss Addams." She compliments. "Your first assignment is to paint what you have on your mind right now. Now this may take a couple of sessions to complete but do not rush."

I then think for a moment, I then look around the room. My eyes then look at her. In that moment I then decided what I was gonna paint.

----

The next day I was roaming the halls when Enid came up to me.

"Bell! The Poe Cup is soon and I was wondering if you could join us? Wednesday said she'll go if you go so please say yes!" Enid squealed. Shaking my shoulders making my tempted to cut off her fingers and stack them right in front of her.

"Ill think about it now please don't ever touch me again." I said before pushing her away. Not too hard but not to soft either.

I then walk to the quad, up from above I see Weems with her binoculars looking down at all the students. Our eyes then lock making her put her binoculars down and smile at me. Making a bowl of spiders crawl in my stomach. Which was definitely a feeling I was unaware of. I then turn away, walking to the art room since it was my free period and deciding to work on my painting for a while.

I peeked back a bit to see Weems with a sad expression before going back into her office.

I walked into the art room and looked over at Weems's painting. It seemed like a painting of black rose. My favorite rose...

"Lets play 21 questions hm? I think its only right since we will be giving these paintings to each other." Weems smiled at me. I just nodded.

"You will got first Weems." I said flatly while giving her my usual glare. She just nodded before thinking for a bit.

"Why did you decide to come to Nevermore?" She asked me after a few minutes. I think about my answer for a bit.

"Because I was in a boarding school in France before. I was there for a few years and I decided I wanted a change of scenery and Wednesday has expressed how much she wanted me to come back through our letters to each other." I said while starting to paint the background. Some clouds with hues of pale yellow.

"A boarding school in France? Wednesday told you she missed you?" Weems said, firing questions at me.

"Wednesday and I are very close. We always did everything with each other and for the question about me going to France for school. I needed to get away from mother and father. They were too affectionate and over-protective." I said while creating soft stroked on my canvas. I look over to see Weems with a bit of a sad look.

"Too affectionate?" She said in a bit of a sad tone which she tried to hide but I caught on right away.

"Yes too affectionate, they would smother me in hugs and kisses and always made sure to know where I was going." I said a bit softer then usual.

She just nodded which I thought was a bit strange but I brushed it off. I then started to think of what I should ask her.

"Do you think angels are good?" I asked. She looked at me perplexed since this was a strange question for me to ask her. She then thought for a bit.

"I do believe angels are good Miss Addams. They are supernatural beings that have many tales about their good deeds and what they have done for humans in the past." She said. I then see her finally starting to pain.

"Yes but only of their good deeds, they must have committed something down right sinful at least once." I said while starting to paint some golden gates. The gate ways to heaven hell. As I believed she was sent from heaven hell.

"What's your favorite flower Miss Addams?" She asked with a smile.

"A black rose." I said with ease. One of the easiest questions that could she could ask from me.

"It represents elegance and mystery." I said while glancing over at her. I see her get out black, grey, and white paint. I then quickly assume she will be painting my flower which made the corner of my lips turn up a bit before I shook that odd pleasant feeling down.

I then quickly return back to the present. Though I felt a strange feeling when I realized she was painting my favorite flower.Even though I already knew that it still made spiders crawl in my stomach. Basking myself in joy despair.

I then hear Enid calling my name which me roll my eyes. I then hear her open the door to the art room to see me which made her grin widely.

"Bella! Can you participate in the Poe Cup this year please?" Enid asked with puppy eyes which didn't prove effective on me.

"No." I stated plainly before going back to painting.

"Please Bella? I know I already asked today but please??" She pouted which made me roll my eyes before sighing.

"Fine." I said, finally relenting to join this silly event.

"Really?" Enid said happily, about to go in for a hug before I glared at her. Signaling to not do that.

"Oh Principal Weems will be so happy that you'll join! I told her how I wanted you to join the team today and she hoped that you would join and you did! I have to go thank her!" Enid smiled excitedly.

"Oh and we'll build the boat this week!" Enid smiled before walking out.

I sighed, already regretting my decision to join the Poe Cup. But I then thought about how Weems would be happy to see me play which made it kind of worth it.

I snap out of my daze, looking back at my painting of an angel. As I saw Larissa Weems as an angel. I mentally conflicted with myself if I should use Weems's face but decided against it since it would seem weird. I decided to put a mask on the angel. The identity hidden.

I then feel something crawl on my shoulder to see Thing. I glare at Thing, mentally saying to get off my shoulder.

Thing decided to stay on my shoulder which irritates me.

"What do you need Thing?" I asked while starting to paint the mask of the angel. Thing quickly starts doing signals which makes me look at him.

"You want me to help Enid build the boat?" I said asking him. Which makes him sign a yes. I sigh, looking back at my painting before starting to clean up.

"I suppose." I said setting Thing down on the floor. Thing then starts to lead the way to where our team was building the boat.

In the distance I see the blonde werewolf and my sister. I get closer and seem them both trying to paint a black cat which makes me sigh. I then decide to paint the other side.

"Leave the painting to me you fools." I said starting to paint. Enid looks surprised that I was helping out since Wednesday probably told her I wouldn't. It seems that Wednesday was surprised to. I just glare at them making them both quickly go back to painting the other side.

"Thing tie my hair up." I ordered which makes him do so obediently. He ties my hair making my raven hair into a ponytail. My hair shining a deep purple in the sun.

After about an hour of painting I am halfway done with my side. I look over to see the two gone. I then feel three sets of eyes looking at me. I turn around to see Enid and Wednesday looking at me paint. But there were only two people behind me. I drag my eyes around my vicinity to see no one us but us three. Weird...

I decide to ignore it and go back to painting my cat for our team.

After about another hour I finish my painting, going back a few steps to marvel at my work. I see Enid come closer, inspecting it before turning to me and smiling.

"Oh Bella it looks amazing! Thank you!" She said happily, about to go in for a hug which makes me step back immediately. Like second nature.

I see Wednesday right next to me, shoulder to shoulder. I see Enid looking at us excitedly before pulling out her brain sucking device.

"We should take a picture and make memories!" She said excitedly before snapping a picture of me and Wednesday making me a bit mad but I suppose it was okay. Just one photo...

After Enid took our photo I demanded to see it. Conflicting with myself if I could delete it or not. I take the phone and look at the picture. Me and Wednesday standing shoulder to shoulder, Enid in the corner of the picture. A failed part on hers of trying to include herself in the selfie. I then examine the photo.

But in the background I see a shadow...A shadow of a large figure. The tree right next to the shadow has three claw marks...

I then look back to see the shadow gone but the marks still there...

Taglist:

@poorwritingandstalecoffee  @maxfanartfan @a-goblin-named-cherry

[bapplenana]

Gwendoline Christie with her Fendi Peekaboo

[cigarettessmokeandberries]

[Works List]

Miranda Hilmarson

**Rainy mornings and kisses**

— Uh, oh! The window is open and rain is trickling in! Miranda is sound asleep and the sound jolts you awake. Morning fluff ensues. —

**I want a home with you**

— You don’t believe in romance movies, so how come it felt like one with Miranda? —

Audrey Tindall

**Has to be enough**

— It had been nasty. Audrey came back from Roanoke different, and you couldn’t understand why. Until you saw the news. Audrey’s suffering had now been broadcasted across the country, and even some places outside of it, and the nightmare she lived through etched deeper into her. —

**i love you, im sorry*

— Audrey was meant to be a star but what does that mean for you?

**Soft**

-- Audrey danced around the living room to the beat of whatever song was playing on the Bluetooth, you had long stopped listening to watch the sway of her hips as she smiled at you. --

Cordelia Goode

**Chrysanthemums**

--Cordelia Goode was a force of nature. She was green all year round and her words were bulbs from the most beautiful flower. She walked like she knew where to be and she spoke like she knew everyone was listening. Her hair was golden in the sunlight and her eyes were milky coffee in the moonlight. She wore her beauty as if it didn’t impact you everyday. And you were already mourning her as she sat right next to you. --

Melissa Schemmenti

**Fixer upper** Part Two ** Part Three**

— Great, the coffee machine broke. It's burned Melissa's hand and ruined the day for most teachers- wait, it burned Melissa's hand. Y/n won't let that pass. —

Hetty Woodstone

**Blue Skies and Orange suns**

— Never apart, Y/n and Hetty spend their days together. —

Sevika

**Softened**

— She nearly always came to you after beaten up, but you didn't want it any other way. A short comfort fic for Sevika. —

**Lovesick idiot**

— The smoke tickled the back of your throat, one breath in and one long sigh out. The day wore on your back, the couch a nice relief against the soreness. Sevika chuckled beside you, a grin plastered on her face as she took another drag of her cigar. —

**Silver Springs**

—The air outside The Last Drop was stale against your nostrils, it came in cold and left with a stain against the inside of your nose- the musk in the air still not something that you got used to. The glow of the undercity shined against you as you wiped another tear from your eye, red and irritated. This wasn’t the first time you’d disappeared out back to cry. Especially about Sevika. —

*Requests are open

[weemssapphic]

Post-Gym Workout

Miranda Hilmarson x f!reader

a few months ago, @jadewolf22 requested sub!Miranda x reader hitting the gym together and Miranda getting turned on by reader lifting weights. cue sex with manhandling, spanking, marking, praise, degradation. this is that and I haven't written smut in a while so please be kind 🤍 (also sorry for disappearing I am Overwhelmed and Exhausted but I'm still here and I love you guys)

words: ~2.8k | ao3 link in title

‘I’m outside’ you text Miranda just after pulling into a spot outside of her apartment building, unable to stop your lips from curling into a smile when she immediately reads the text and starts typing.

‘Be right out! x’ 

Dropping your phone into the cupholder of your car, you drum your fingers against the steering wheel and wait for your girlfriend to come outside. It’s unbearably hot, even for an Australian summer, and you crank up the AC and put your hair up to keep it from sticking to the back of your neck. You’re beginning to regret the decision to go to the gym today, but it’s rare that you and Miranda have a day off together and she’s been begging you to hit the gym with her - you’re going to have to suck it up.

A flash of blonde in your peripheral vision makes you turn your head to see Miranda taking long strides towards your car, her gym bag slung over her shoulder. A massive grin lights up her face the second she makes eye contact with you through the windshield and she jogs the remainder of the way to the car, tossing her bag onto the backseat before sliding in next to you and leaning across the center console.

“Hi, baby,” you murmur against the blonde’s lips as she immediately goes in for a kiss, which you quickly deepen. Miranda’s smile is lovestruck when she pulls back and puts on her seatbelt, and the two of you fall into easy conversation on the short drive to the gym.

You notice Miranda’s gaze lingering on your body a few times as the two of you get changed in the locker room - you decide to tease her by making a show of bending over to put on your leggings. When you turn around, you’re secretly gleeful to find that her cheeks have turned a lovely shade of pink. 

“Like what you see?” you tease as you close your locker and grab your water bottle and towel from the bench. Miranda rolls her eyes and smiles sheepishly, turning to grab her own things in a vain attempt to hide her growing blush. 

As you work out, you can tell that Miranda is trying to be subtle about checking you out, but you know her too well not to notice. You can’t say you don’t feel the same way - watching her work up a sweat is starting to make you really glad you agreed to accompany her today (even though your own arousal is starting to feel a little frustrating).

It’s when you’re at the squat rack, reracking the barbell you’ve just had across your upper back, that you look at Miranda through the mirror, sitting on a bench behind you, her eyes glued to your ass and her cheeks gorgeously flushed, and decide you’ve had enough.

“I’m taking you home,” you say abruptly, grabbing your towel and water bottle from the floor next to the rack and turning around to walk straight past your partner. Your tone seems to snap her out of whatever perverted daydream she was immersed in, and she shoots up and trails behind you, her brows knit together in confusion.

“What? Why? Are you okay?”

Her legs might be longer than yours but your determination drives you to the locker room in record time, with Miranda stumbling after you.

“I wasn’t finished,” she whines with a pout as she follows you into the locker room, but you’re too busy checking to make sure you’re alone to respond right away, abandoning your belongings on a bench. Once you’re satisfied that you’re alone, you turn on your heel, with Miranda closer than you’d expected her to be.

“I don’t think you’re going to have any trouble finishing later,” you husk, one arm wrapping around her waist as the other hand slides into her hair and pulls her in for a heated kiss. Miranda’s frozen for a moment - then the meaning of your words registers in her brain and she moans, kissing you back eagerly as her hands find your hips. Her lips part for you in a silent request to deepen the kiss - you slip your tongue into her mouth, your jaw nearly going slack as you taste her and feel your clit throb with need.

You pull back, breathing heavily, your eyes hooded as you look up at Miranda through your lashes - she looks a bit dazed as she looks down at you, her chest heaving and her milky skin splotched with red. You smirk as you step away, opening your locker to pull out your bag and toss your things haphazardly inside, before slinging it over your shoulder. “Well?”

Miranda follows briskly behind you, and it takes all your self-restraint to keep your hands off of her on your way to the car. The drive back to Miranda’s place seems to take forever - the air in the car feels hot and heavy despite the AC, and Miranda doesn’t make it any easier for you by squirming noticeably in her seat.

The second you arrive at home and she closes the apartment door behind her, you’re all over each other again. Your hands find her hips and grip them tight enough to bruise as you push her towards the bedroom, your lips leaving a trail of sloppy, passionate kisses along the underside of her jaw. You wait until the backs of her knees have hit the bed, then give her a little shove - she lands on her back, looking up at you with hooded eyes and a flushed, heaving chest.

You climb on top of her, straddle her, run your hands up the sides of her clothed torso. She shivers, reaches out to grasp your hips, squeezes them. Her pupils dilate as her eyes roam your body, admiring your silhouette beneath your tight athletic wear. Her fingers twitch - you can tell that she’s eager to get you out of your restrictive clothing but she knows you’re in charge, so she doesn’t dare make the first move.

“You’re so beautiful,” you hum quietly as your hands slide beneath Miranda’s t-shirt, pushing it upwards. She blushes crimson at the sincerity of the compliment and sits up just enough to allow you to pull the shirt over her head and toss it to the floor. Her breathing goes shallow as you toy with the wide straps of the sports bra she’s wearing - you snap one of them against her shoulder and she winces, more so out of surprise than pain. You smirk. 

“Are you going to be a good girl for me?” you whisper, bringing your lips to Miranda’s ear and letting your warm breath wash over the side of her neck. Goosebumps form a little trail on her sensitive skin and Miranda nods fervently, her breath catching audibly in her throat. You chuckle condescendingly.

“Good girls use their words, love,” you husk, nipping at Miranda’s earlobe and drawing a shuddering gasp from her chest, her body tensing beneath you. It takes her a moment, but finally Miranda finds her voice and breathes out a soft “yes” that makes your smirk widen.

“Yes, what?” You pull away far enough to look her in the eyes, only to see that hers are squeezed shut. “Look at me,” you command, waiting for Miranda to open her eyes, pleased with the wideness of her inky black pupils. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, I-I’ll be a good girl for you,” Miranda whispers in one breath, her eyes darting hungrily between your own.

“Good.” You run your fingers through her hair, gently scratching her scalp, then suddenly ball your hand into a fist and tug her head back by the hair, baring her neck to you so that you can nip and suck at her pulse point, creating a deep red mark that was sure to bruise. 

Releasing her hair, you start to kiss your way down Miranda’s chest, ridding her of her sports bra with ease so that you can lavish small, supple breasts with kisses. You trace the tip of your tongue around her right nipple, your eyes open so that you can watch each little goosebump erupt in real time. You switch to her left nipple and bestow upon it the same rapt attention, sucking it eagerly between your lips and moaning when Miranda’s hands begin to claw at the fabric of your leggings, when her back arches and pushes her chest against your face.

“God, you’re fucking eager today…” you mumble as your lips nuzzle the skin of her stomach. You inhale deeply through your nose, breathing her in; the mixture of sweat and soap and those base notes that cling to her skin as part of her natural scent. You can’t help but to litter her chest and stomach with bruises - then pull her leggings down and give her inner thighs the same treatment, just so there’s no question who she belongs to.

Pulling down her pants releases the scent of her musk and reveals to you the dark, wet patch at the center of her underwear, and you feel your stomach flip and your own underwear grow uncomfortably wet.

“Such a good girl, letting me mark you like this…” you whisper against her inner thigh, just before you bite down and cause Miranda to cry out, her hands flying to your hair to steady herself.

“P-please,” she gasps out as you soothe your tongue over the bite marks you’ve just left.

“Please what, baby? You want to be fucked?”

Miranda nods fervently, and you smirk against her skin - her thigh twitches against your mouth.

“I think I want to take my time today…” you hum casually, letting your breath ghost over her panties - placing a soft, barely-there kiss to her clothed clit before licking at the seam of her crotch. Miranda whimpers. Tugs at your hair. Rolls her hips against the air. You nuzzle your nose against the wet patch on her underwear, and she gasps, arching her back off the bed, then sinking back down. Tensing and untensing in anticipation.

Once you’ve finally decided that she’s had enough, you hook your fingers beneath the waistband of her underwear and pull it down her legs. You kiss your way back up her legs, starting at her ankles, switching sides, tracing your tongue up her toned calves, licking the back of her knee - she’s ticklish, she squirms - nipping her inner thighs, before finally reaching her cunt and, with gentle kitten licks, lapping up the arousal that’s already dripping out of her and running into the crack of her ass. 

“Mmh… fuck, you taste so damn good…” Your tongue gets more eager, parting her folds and circling her clit, and your pleased moans vibrate against the throbbing bud and send shockwaves through Miranda’s body, to which she responds with moans of her own, loud and unabashed.

You can tell she’s getting close by the way her thighs are trembling against your ears, their hold on your head tightening, her knuckles white against the sheets that she’s holding onto for dear life. You stop just shy of sending her over the edge, your lips leaving her clit in favor of ravishing her blonde curl-covered mound with kisses, and your ears are met with a deep whine as Miranda’s hips buck against you, to no avail.

“What do you need, baby? Hmm?” you husk as you slowly kiss your way back up Miranda’s stomach, between her breasts, well aware that her orgasm is starting to retreat again. You grab one of her breasts, the soft flesh filling up the palm of your hand, and bring your lips to her opposite nipple to kiss it chastely. “Your tits feel amazing…”

Miranda moans again, though it has a whiny, disgruntled edge. “Fuck… please…”

She’s starting to get impatient, her hands leaving the sheets and finding your shirt, clawing at it, trying to push it over your head, and you immediately sit up and scoot back, moving just out of reach and looking down at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Turn around.”

Miranda doesn’t respond right away, staring up at you with wide eyes, her chest heaving and splotched with red, her hair stuck to her forehead as a bead of sweat races down her temple. You stand and grab her hips, giving her a push and flipping her onto her stomach. 

“Ass in the air.”

Miranda complies immediately, shuffling a bit on the bed so that she can bend her knees and bare her ass to you, a fresh wave of arousal glistening between her folds that are perfectly parted for you. Her ass is pale, soft, covered in goosebumps - you caress it tenderly, feeling the flesh beneath your palm, your fingertips. You raise your hand - pause for a moment - smack the right cheek. It jiggles a bit and, when you pull your hand away, there’s a faint red mark.

The harder you hit, the wetter Miranda gets, the louder, more pornographic her moans get, until you’re almost certain her neighbors have been able to commit the obscene sounds to memory.

“If only everyone at the station could see what a slut you are,” you say mockingly, soothing your hand over the pink flesh before drawing it back for another smack. Your words make Miranda’s eyes roll back in her head, her jaw going slack. 

The next spank makes her elbows buckle and she slips forward - you tug your own shirt and sports bra off, then lean over her so that your tits are pressed flush against her back. She shudders and your lips meet the back of her neck, kissing the sweat-slicked skin as your arm snakes around her torso, your fingers slipping through her drenched folds. You slide two fingers into her with ease, the heel of your hand pressing against her clit, and she rolls her hips eagerly, a cry of relief spilling from her lips at finally finding the friction she so desperately needs.

“I love seeing you like this,” you whisper against the back of Miranda’s neck, your own breathing heavy and stuttering. “You’re so goddamn beautiful. So fucking perfect.”

Miranda trembles against you, her hips bucking erratically as she chases her orgasm. As you pump your fingers in and out of her in a steady rhythm, you slowly ease in a third finger - her walls stretch around you, her breath stutters audibly, she whimpers a little.

“Shh…” You nuzzle your nose against the nape of her neck. “Tell me if it’s too much… but I think you can take it…”

Miranda’s thrusts resume their previous rhythm and it becomes clear she doesn’t mind the third finger - in fact, it sends her over the edge moments later, her whole body shuddering and tensing against you, her hips bucking, quivering, a long, deep moan vibrating through the air and drowning out your praises of “good girl” and “that’s it” until her body goes limp against you. 

Her knees give out and you hold her up, lowering her carefully and steadily onto her stomach, then rolling off of her. You scoot up the bed so that you’re resting against the pillows and urge Miranda to join you, winding your arms around her, pulling her cheek against your chest, kissing the crown of her head.

“You did so well for me,” you coo against the top of her head, carding your fingers through her hair. “Thank you for trusting me…” 

You hold her in your arms and brush a strand of hair off her sweaty forehead, kissing it. She curls into you, feeling so small in your arms and looking so content. She smiles and buries her face in your chest with a tired but happy hum. She thanks you and presses her lips to your chest and you chuckle and tighten your grip on her, your heart swelling with affection as you whisper, “I love you, Mir. Let me draw you a bath.” 

Your words are met with a discontented hum and she curls further into you as you chuckle at her reaction. “Can we stay here a few more minutes?” she mumbles - you nod softly and wiggle your hips a bit to get more comfortable on the bed.

“Whatever you want, love.”

Miranda smiles and traces her hand over your hips, giving the waistband of your leggings a meek tug, then clawing weakly at the fabric bunched over your hips. You raise an eyebrow and look down to see a tired half-smirk playing upon Miranda’s lips, and you chuckle and shake your head in amusement. “Whatever you want…”

x

taglist: @alexusonfire @pro-weems-places @bigolgay @kimiinou @imprincipalweemspet @h-doodles @bychrissi @katie-bennet @giogwensversion @gela123 @friskyfisher @justcallmelittleone @michi2504 @scream-queenlover @a-queen-and-her-throne @sequoirius @anne-lister @winterfireblond @imgayforwoman69  @Ssappling2004 @fictionalized-lesbian @i-like-reading @aemilia19 @milfsloverblog @missdowling @billiedeansbitch @The_Demon_of_your_Dream @agathaandbrienneslesbian @http-sam @Cute-catx @saltrage @renravens @opheliauniverse @zillahofviolets-bayolet @scarlettssub @catechristiestuff @niceminipotato @barbarasstar @women-are-so-ethereal @thevillagegay @willowshadenox @lilfartbox1 @larissaoftarthweems @dovesintherain @fallenbutch @lunala-rose23 @ahauandthesun @thenazwife @wh0s-vesper @lvinhs @sweetderacine @daydream-cement @ilovetlcc @wastdstime @ladylarissaweems @spacetoaim22 @m1lflov3rrr @sapphicbee223

[inlovewithgreta]

I would die for you to make more Gwendoline Christie's character fics like my fav ultra 'green' flags Lady Jane, Jane Murdstone, Jan Stevens and Captain Phasma!! Although I do also love a green flag like yummers Larissa Weems, Miranda Hilmarson and Brienne of Tarth!! WORDS CANT DESCRIBE HOW I LOVE YOUR FICS SO FKIN MUCH!!

Lipstick Stains & Ice Cubes - Larissa Weems x Fem!Reader

Summary: Both you and Larissa were eager to please each other, but in your own special ways.

Warnings: praise, pet names, oral sex, ice cubes, body worship, g!p, fingering, p in v, breeding kink, I believe that’s it?

Word Count: 2.3k

Taglist: @celasteria @shslbunnylover @enchantressb @dopenightmaretyphoon @weemswife @bellatrixsbrat @finnja555 @pllduniverse @aemilia19 @winterfireblond

© Do not copy, repost, or modify any of my works.

You were waiting for Larissa in her hotel room, gazing outside the floor length mirror at the city below you. She told you to wait for her while she finished up some business, and of course you listened.

Whenever Larissa had a business meeting out of town, she would bring you along. The two of you were inseparable, not wanting to be away from each other as it drove you both crazy.

You were inevitably and ultimately in love with the woman. But the words were never said aloud, leaving you to wonder if she felt the same. For now you were content, but you still longed for the words to come out of her sweet mouth.

Larissa had finally arrived as you were lost in thought. You had only noticed her presence when the heavy clicking of her heels grew louder. You turn to face her from the window, and a smile instantly spreads across your face.

"Don't move, darling. You look absolutely divine with the moonlight reflecting off of you." Her voice was dripping with honey, her elegant accent giving you butterflies.

You nodded your head, smile growing impossibly bigger as you listened to her light command.

Larissa swiftly moved to the nightstand, grabbing her phone, and making her way back towards you. "Pose for me, darling," she commanded once more, lifting her phone to take a picture of you.

You eagerly did as she said, posing sweetly and elegantly towards your lover. With a few clicks, Larissa licked her crimson coated lips, before quickly tapping away.

"Well?" You tilted your head.

"Look how beautiful you are," she cooed, showing you her new wallpaper that was now of course you, standing in front of the window with the most ethereal look on your face.

Your cheeks grew a bright red. "Thank you," you said, wrapping your arms around the taller woman's waist to pull her closer to you.

Your eyes were twinkling gorgeously. Larissa couldn't help but fall harder for you. You were the most perfect woman she had ever met. So kind, sweet, caring, and gentle. And her heart skipped a beat when her lips dipped to meet yours in a tender kiss.

Larissa cups the back of your neck, and you couldn't resist returning the kiss. You had been waiting for her all night. She had spent the entire day teasing you, and you were overcome with need.

You pulled her in tighter, but the blonde refused to let you have control. This was all about you. You being taken care of. Being cherished. And Larissa intended on making the most of it. Your moans were muffled as her tongue engulfed your own.

You go to pull back for air, your chest heaving. But Larissa wasn't having it. She places a soft palm flat to your chest, pushing you gently against the window.

"Larissa..." You whined against her parted lips.

"Yes, my love?" She tilted her head, with a big smirk plastered across her face.

"I can't wait anymore.."

"So demanding..." She teases, grabbing your wrists and guiding them over your head, before holding them in place. You let out another quiet moan as you grow more excited.

Larissa keeps one hand on your wrists while the other runs down your body. Thankful that you were wearing the easiest garment to undress, Larissa skillfully dragged the clothing off your body before letting it look at your feet.

You can't help but let out a groan when your gaze follows her hand as she palms herself through her own clothing. She was hard beneath her clothing, her cock straining against her tight underwear.

"Baby if you keep making those noises..."

"What? Like this?" You let out another quiet moan, this time adding her name to the mix.

"God, yes..."

"Then I think we'd better get you out of these clothes and do something about it.."

Larissa bit her lip, before letting your wrists go. She had to bite back a laugh when your hands quickly and eagerly discarded her clothing to the floor to pool with your own.

You both nearly rip your undergarments off, unable to hold back anymore, and you nearly salivate at the sight of Larissa's long, hard cock dripping with precum.

"Like you said, how about you do something about this, hmm?" She raised a high brow, using one hand to stroke herself. "Get on your knees, sweet girl."

In one swift movement, you're settled onto your knees, hands clasped behind your back as your gaze darts from Larissa's bright blue eyes and down to the cock in her hand.

"Like this?" You ask, gazing back up at her once again with a mischievous glint in your eye.

Larissa nods, reaching down to stroke your face with her free hand. The blonde loved having you like this, on your knees and eager to please her.

You glance around the room, taking in your surroundings, examining your options. When your eyes meet the ice tray, you don't hesitate to grab a singular cube.

You trail the ice cube over Larissa's milky skin, leaving a small trail of liquid up her leg. "Ooh..." she breathes, attempting to pull away from the cold.

You tsk and pull her back, forcing her to stay still as you trace lazy patterns across her large upper thigh. The trail goes up her hip, before reaching her navel. You circle her button slowly, letting a few icy droplets fall down to her length.

You bring the ice cube to your mouth, pushing it past your lips and suck on the cube. Larissa's chest rose and fell rapidly and her eyes grew darker as she watched you, doing everything in her power to hold herself back.

It only took a second for the ice to melt completely before you leaned in and lick a strip up the bottom of her length with your tongue. "Fuck..." Larissa breathes, burrowing her fingers in your hair and making a makeshift ponytail.

You look at her through your lashes as you slide the tip of her cock past your mouth. Cheeks hollow instantly as you take more and more of her, slowly letting her fill your mouth.

"I want to fuck that pretty little mouth of yours," she groaned, feeling your tongue swirl around her. "May I move now?"

You mumble, and Larissa doesn't hesitate to thrust her hips forward. She was quick with her pace, watching you intently as her cock disappeared after every second down your throat.

"Yesss..." The blonde was pulling your hair tightly, keeping you right where she wanted you so she could fuck your mouth. "Suck me off, baby.. fuck, you look so pretty like this.."

Tears brimmed at the corner of your eyes as the air in your lungs grew thin, your body doing its best to breathe in through your nose that was now pressed right up against her skin as Larissa shoved her entire length into your mouth and held you still.

The blonde didn't let up until you gagged, the salty tears burning your eyes as they fell. "You're doing so good for me.." She groaned as your tongue swirled around the tip of her dick. "So..so good."

You looked up at her through your wet lashes. Larissa immediately felt her cock twitch at the sight of you. Flushed cheeks, tear stained cheeks, messy hair, and on your knees with her dick in your mouth. It was a sight of pure filth.

And she couldn't help but release her warm, thick load into your mouth as you sucked her. "Yes! Swallow for me, baby." You could feel the wetness between your legs drip down your thigh as you did what you were told.

Your hands sat at her hips, fingers digging into her sweaty, milky skin as you swallowed every last drop of her release.

"Christ..." she moaned, gazing at the saliva dripping down your chin and down to your breasts as she eased your head back.

Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath. But Larissa wasted no time, as she pulled you to your feet. The woman nearly tossed you onto the bed, your body instantly falling limp as you fell into the mattress.

"Such a pretty little body.." She said, standing tall at the end of the bed, "And it's all mine." Your legs involuntarily spread, inviting Larissa in.

"Kiss me.." you whispered.

"Where?" She teased, crawling onto the bed.

You slide one knee up onto her shoulder, your heel pushing her back down so her head was just mere inches away from your center. "Here..." Your fingers trail down the valley between your breasts and go straight to your core.

Her lips fall open as you show her exactly what you want her to do to you. Larissa immediately moves your hand to the side to give herself the opportunity to take all of you in.

"If that's what you want..." She husked, placing tender kisses to your inner thigh. Crimson lipstick smudges were left behind, as Larissa placed one kiss after another across your skin.

Just as she marked one thigh, she ghosted her lips over your cunt before placing featherlight kisses to your other thigh. When your hips bucked, Larissa used her large hands to pin your hips down to the mattress.

Red lipstick stains covered your thighs as she mapped out the lower half of your body. "You're so beautiful..." She mewled. Her plush lips ghost over your entrance but she replaces it with her tongue.

"'Rissa..." Your hand finds the top of her head, twisting with her luscious blonde curls. You coax her to apply more pressure as you lowly moan out her name.

"Add your fingers...please.." You quietly begged her. Blue eyes snap up to meet yours, tongue not wavering at your cunt. "I need you.."

"I'm all yours.." She reassured, focusing on your button with her tongue while she slides two fingers inside of you. You almost let out a scream at the onslaught of pleasure.

"Yes...'Rissa just like that..." The blonde moves her fingers faster, picking up her pace as her tongue works wonders against your clit.

You look down between your legs, watching as the blonde fucks you, the tension that has been slowly building in your core threatened to explode just from the sight alone.

"Mm, I-I need..." You were truly at a loss for words, but you needed more. More than just her mouth and her fingers. "I need—"

Larissa's cock was twitching, and it was taking everything in her not to bust. And at your words, it's as if she knew exactly what you were trying to mutter out.

"Me too..." She groaned, between gingerly fucking you.

"Let me ride you, please..."

The request was barely out of your mouth before Larissa was lying flat against the bed and pulling you on top of her to help you get into position.

Hands were immediately grabbing at your hips as you straddled your lover. Her long, platinum locks were sprawled against the pillow and her usually perfect lips were now a smudged mess.

You could feel her entire length pushing up against your center, and you couldn't help but rock your hips.

Larissa reaches between you to pump her cock in her hand before lowering yourself on her as she pushes up into you, completely filling you and stretching you out.

You let your head fall back as you let out a soft moan from the sensation. The thrill of her filling you up and making you so warm was exhilarating, but it was still not enough.

"More..." You whimper. Larissa cups your cheek, urging you to look down at her as she scans your tear-stained face. Your eyes prickled with tears once again, but this time out of frustration.

You were so worked up. So hot, horny, and in dire need of Larissa to fuck you senseless. Words couldn't explain how desperate you were to come.

"Are you sure?" She tenderly asked, stroking your cheek lovingly with her thumb.

"Please... please, I need you. Fuck me already.."

That's all the answer Larissa needed. She moves, and not at a slow, sensual pace. At a pace that had you seeing stars and letting out moan after moan, her hips pistoning in and out. The pleasure within you grew stronger and stronger with each thrust that elicited a quiet grunt from the blonde.

Skin slapped against skin and Larissa pulled you into a deep, passionate kiss. "I love you..." you mumbled against her messy lips.

"I love you too, darling.. so, so much..." she moaned, cock twitching inside you as she grew close.

Your forehead rested against hers and your hands grabbed at her freckled shoulders. "Come inside me. I want you to fill me... please.." Larissa had never heard you beg so much in one night, and she loved every second of it.

With a thrust, a grab of your ass, and a grunt, Larissa stilled herself inside you as she filled you up with her warm come in antagonizing slow spurts.

The gesture alone had your orgasm rip through your entire body, nearly paralyzing you as you nearly screamed out her name. Your senses were on overdrive, and your legs shook violently.

You felt your body quickly overcome with exhaustion as Larissa coaxed you through your orgasm. Your breathing was heavy as you struggled to regain your senses.

Larissa helped you to lay down, sliding herself from your grip. She left a chaste kiss to your forehead before heading to the bathroom. She wanted to be quick to clean you up, before you passed out.

Luckily for her, you were able to keep yourself awake just long enough for her to run a warm, damp washcloth between your legs, cleaning both your orgasm and her lipstick stains on you. She would have you run to the bathroom once you regained consciousness, but for now, you were too exhausted and fucked out to move a muscle.

So Larissa got back into bed, pulled you into her loving embrace, slid the covers over the two of you, and let you fall asleep with your head in the crook of her neck. Letting your body go limp in her arms while whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

general masterlist | gwen masterlist | taglist

[theswordmaiden]

Love Bug

Miranda Hilmarson x Fem!Reader

valentine's day, domestic lifestyle, and unspoken words. fluff ensues. clingy little cuddle bug who adores covering you in kisses, but sometimes needs reassurance. word count: 1700... @viivenn

“In here, babe!” your voice rang out as you heard the front door open and shut. Miranda kicked off her work boots and tossed her keys onto the coffee table before quickly following the sound of your voice and smell of food. You were in the middle of cooking up some late night dinner for the pair of you, humming out a ‘hello’ as you felt big arms wrapping around you from behind.

"Hey, love bug," she murmured softly into the messy locks of hair, lips pressed to the top of your head. A pleased hum left you both at the action and you turned your head to glance up at her, the warmth of her breath meeting your cheek, tinted with the lingering scent of cigarettes that greeted your nostrils. Miranda pouted, gingerly tugging at the bottom of your shirt, a silent gesture to ask for a kiss.

You turned around in her embrace, arms moving naturally to find their place around her broad shoulders, as you pushed up on your toes to meet the blonde's height and press your lips to hers. It was sweet and simple, a display of how much she'd been missing you while she was busy all day at work, lasting for a few moments before you were first to pull away. "I missed you.." she mumbled, gazing down at you with puppy dog eyes.

"I missed you too, Mir," you replied softly, unable to hide the smile that tugged at your lips at the sight of your lipstick faintly smudged against her own mouth. It makes your heart swell with affection, and a blush begins to work its way across your cheeks and down your throat. As the vegetable stir fry began to crackle in the pan, you spun back around to face the stove, pushing the spatula around. "How was work?"

Miranda sighed quietly, unable to keep herself from frowning ever so slightly as you pulled away, though she didn't quite want to let go of you. Her arms slid down to wrap around your waist once more, palms cradling the softness of your stomach as she leaned her chest against your back, perching her head against your shoulder to watch you cook. "Hectic, as always," she nuzzled her nose against your cheekbone, desperately growing clingy, which she often did after a rough day. "But I'm fine now that I'm with you..."

You chuckled, feeling the comfortable weight of the blonde's head against your shoulder as you continued to stir the sizzling vegetables. "I'm glad I can make you feel better, then," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, not wanting to disturb the gentleness between the pair of you.

It was moments like these —such mundane domestic tasks— where you'd find solace in each other's presence. Her life was fast paced and constantly moving, yet the simpleness of coming home to just.. you made her heart soar. Miranda could never see herself 'settling down' before you came into her life, but the thought of it being with you was enticing enough.

She began to get lost in a dream-like trance, a happy grin plastered across her face as she got lost in the thought of such a life with you, and all she could do was pull you closer when you suggested she go take a shower while you finished up with dinner.

Miranda's grip on you tightened every so slightly, yet still gentle, as she sighed contentedly. "And miss out on the chance to help you cook?" she murmured, her voice laced with fondness. "I think I'll stay right here. . ." And once more her lips met the top of your head as she hummed happily, beginning to lightly sway the pair of you to an invisible rhythm while you cooked.

Of course, you knew better. By her 'helping', she simply meant distracting — not that you minded much. You’d happily be distracted, if it meant being engulfed in her affections. Her presence was a balm to your tired soul and vice versa, soothing away the fatigue that'd accumulated after a long day.

"You know," she began quietly, her tone light and playful but sincere, "I could get used to this.. coming home to you every day, I mean." The warmth of her words seemed to radiate from the blonde, beginning to spread throughout your chest. "Though, your cooking is definitely a plus.." she added lightheartedly, causing you to laugh.

You knew the older woman would survive purely off of cigarettes, stale beer, and chinese takeout if you weren’t around to take care of her. If she couldn’t throw it into the microwave to reheat it? She wouldn’t touch it. You happily spoiled her with weekly home cooked meals and treats that never lasted longer than a few days in her fridge.

Miranda reached towards one of your hands and began to slowly spin you around to face her once more, and you obliged, turning the stove on low before finally turning your body the direction she wanted. She kissed at the back of your knuckles as your eyes met, grinning proudly at the blush that adored your precious face. As her lips pulled away, you stepped closer, free hand coming to rest at her side to bring her closer until your bodies met.

Your head found itself resting along the comfortable space of her shoulder, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her chest against yours, while you listened to the comforting thrum of her heart and softness of her breathing; getting impossibly lost in the scent of her. The two of you were content with being in each other's silence, allowing you both a chance to unwind as you continued to sway together within the space of the small kitchen, your breathing falling into sync with hers.

The blonde remained the lead in swaying your bodies together in a waltzing motion, the hand not holding yours traced idly along your waist, lightly stroking the material of your shirt as it moved. She enjoyed the calming effect your body seemingly had on hers, muscles easing and exhaustion fizzling into nothing.

Sapphire orbs peered down at you, drinking up every detail of your side profile when you weren't paying attention. Every mark, blemish, and hair had been memorized to heart, yet the sight of you never failed to make her heart skip a beat or two.

The soft cadence of Miranda's voice broke through the silence, whispering against the shell of your ear. "I don't know what Gods I must've pleased to deserve you," an uncharacteristic vulnerability creeped into her voice, you knew, leaning up to stare at her sympathetically as she continued, "I just- I dunno. I really, really love you.. and I don't want this feeling to end, y'know? Like, what if I do something.. wrong, and you decide you've finally had enough of me and leave like the rest of them because I’m too much to handle, and—"

Before the blonde could finish her babbling, you leaned up to press a reassuring kiss to her lips, hoping to soothe the insecurities that lingered within her soft heart. A tender smile formed on your face as you pulled away, bringing a hand up to cup her face, brushing your thumb gently against a cheek.

"Hey," you began softly, trying to regain her focus. "Listen to me.. You have nothing to worry about when it comes to that, okay? I promise you, you aren’t too much to handle, I love the way you are just fine. You deserve all the love and affection in the world and more. There is nothing you could ever do wrong that would make me even think about leaving you, do you hear me? I love you, all of you, the good and bad. . My angel, flung out of space."

By the way her eyes searched yours, looking for any hint of deceit or doubt, you could tell it wasn’t often she received such assurance in the past. She was the one constantly putting in the work, the one chasing after the other, the one fighting to make things work—never having someone be the one putting in the work for her. And then there was you. It was a foreign concept to Miranda, but one that she was more than willing to learn to accept.

Tears threatened to form in her eyes as the words sank in, as if some invisible weight had been lifted off from her shoulders, relinquishing her of the pent-up insecurities that'd been plaguing her. You could still feel the weight of her vulnerability while holding her in your arms, but it wasn't so heavy now. She gave your hand two tight squeezes, as if to say 'thank you for loving me when I struggle to love myself', without needing to verbalize it.

You understood. Old wounds took time to heal, but she was worth waiting for. Worth tending to. Your hand squeezed hers in return, repeating the silent message right back.

The next few minutes were spent gently murmuring and crooning soft nothings into her ears, pressing the slowest, most gentle kisses across the apples of her cheeks until her aching heart settled and her face was painted red with lip prints. Soon she was back to smiling, returning the show of affection by spinning you around and dipping you low — hands clutching onto you tightly as she pulled you right back up soon after, pressing a kiss to your forehead, nose, then settling on your lips.

She released you as the timer on the oven rang, silently ushering you to the table so she could plate up dinner while you sat and relaxed for a moment, not even bothering to wipe off her face. Plates were laid out, scooping a hearty helping of stir fry onto both, making a pit stop to the fridge to snag two beers before she'd make her way over to where you sat — a certain pep to her step that wasn't quite there before now.

Your chin rests against the palm of your hand as you watch her move around the familiarity of the kitchen, the sight of her not-so-graceful movements bringing hearts to your eyes, and a fluttering to your belly. Miranda grinned down at you as she placed the plate in front of you, quirking up a brow at the way you stared at her, but making no comment as she quickly began to chow down; talking with a mouthful about something she remembered happening at work she’d been excited to tell you about all afternoon.

. . . you definitely could get used to this.

─────⋅⋆.‧₊☆₊‧.⋅⋆─────────⋅⋆.‧₊☽₊‧.⋅⋆─────────⋅⋆.‧₊☆₊‧.⋅⋆─────

a/n: you know it's serious when you gotta pull out the Carol reference.

viv kept doing sad miranda stuff in the server, so i felt the need to dabble with some fluff for them—first time writing both that and mir. i do hope they'll like it. (: when she's sweet, i definitely picture miranda to be just the clingiest thing imaginable. and so this was born.

[rippersz]

𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐬

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Zombie Apocalypse AU w/ Gwendoline Christie characters; (~9.2K words)

(Featuring: Larissa Weems, Brienne of Tarth, Jane Murdstone, Anna from WTM, Lucifer Morningstar, Miranda Hilmarson, Captain Phasma, and Jan Stevens) x Reader

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

It started about two months ago. Russia went down first, then Mongolia. China. India. And in the midst, Finland, Sweden, Norway, the United Kingdom, down to the very southern tip of Africa. The Ocean is no killer of disease, frozen or not, and encouraged it to ravage South and North America, then Canada and Greenland. Until every place was overrun by dead freaks. Stinking corpses and moving gore. 

They traveled in herds, packs, whatever it was that people wanted to call them—murders, perhaps—and shuffled aimlessly across any land they could find. Eager for food, for sustenance, to fill the empty bellies that would never be full. Gorging themselves on creatures like you. 

Officially ‘the other’. Officially ‘the enemy’. The sole survivor of a good group that was attacked some days ago because an idiot forgot to shoot one of the creatures in the head. And by sunrise, it was over. Screams echoed into the silence and you soon found yourself alone… running for your life with a duffle bag over your shoulder (slowing you down) and a gun in your hand (low on ammo). Trekking through thick woods in a heavily-infested Vermont town was not a good idea, but you had no choice. The house you were camping in was left behind, ravaged by bullets that you put into your friend’s heads, and every other spot nearby had been looted. You couldn’t move all of those bodies yourself. You couldn’t do much yourself. There was no army background attached to your name, no conspiracy theorist survival-obsessed gene in your body, and not much training in fighting either. All you could do was run. Run and run and run until you were miles away and your lungs started to burn. Not the most useful skill considering most people could run, but if you were quick enough to speed past the shuffling bastards, you were quick enough to make it to safety. 

—

Safety…what a joke. A shit joke. A joke that was, quite honestly, the worst joke to ever exist. There was no safety. No place, nowhere. You’d been walking for a few hours, hearing nothing but the forest’s silence, and stumbling over leaves and branches. They ravaged the animals, took them into their mouths like they were people, and ate until there was nothing left. Not even a squirrel, or a fox, and the birds had grown weary of the vast number of hunters (both dead and undead) that found themselves in the woods looking for food. So no birds either. And no houses. And you were pretty sure, as you paused to catch your breath, that you were doomed. 

Only a few bullets left and your aim was never perfect. One knife tucked into your waistband but it was getting uncomfortable, digging into your skin, and caked in blood. Creature blood. Everything smelled horrible. Like burning flesh or dirty meat, raw and soiled. You probably didn’t smell too good either. It wasn’t like the world still worked without the people; only a few places had running water and you couldn’t trust the creeks and rivers. The undead enjoyed walking through shallow water, knowing somehow that there’d probably be prey nearby. 

But you hadn’t seen anything in a while. A long while. A suspiciously long while... 

Everything was green and brown around you, whisked by wind and soil, and you stood out like blood against snow. The last thing you saw was yesterday. Ever since? Not a single flash of undead flesh. 

You swallowed, throat embarrassingly dry, and tapped your fingers against your thigh. 

It wasn’t good when everything was still. You were vulnerable, out in the open, and without a good few rounds of bullets to spare. Every muscle and organ in your body screamed for mercy, crying with the effort it took to keep surviving even when you didn’t want to. 

You thought about it a few times; gave the gun in your hand a long look on several occasions, but ultimately decided that ‘opting out’ was only a last resort. Somehow, even amidst the chaos and hatred and swill of humanity’s nature, you managed to hold hope. And often wondered where it would get you. How it would get you. While you were sleeping? While you were already wounded? Fighting off the hands of a loved one? The twist of hope’s rope… would you feel it closing in around your neck? A literal metaphor for the eventual death you’d experience? 

Thinking about it gave you a headache. 

For where was the point in wondering? 

You had no one else. Whatever form of death awaited, it would end up being your fault. Probably because you couldn’t run fast enough. Probably because- 

Because-

Wait. 

Somewhere behind you, on the right, was a low sound. A hum. The smooth whoosh of something quick. The parting of wind… the low growl of… 

“Fuck.” 

You shot off in that direction, bag smacking against your shoulder blades, and instantly felt the exhaustion pull at your body again. It lingered like a plague, like the undead disease, and you yearned to fall to your knees - to give in - but it wasn’t the time for that. You had to at least try. You had to at least make it over the hill. Right over the hill. So close but so far. You leaned forward, threw yourself at the ground, and grasped onto gnarled tree roots. The Earth smelled wet with decay, sweet with promise - you huffed against dry leaves. They crunched and scratched at your fingers, eventually crinkling into nothing when your arms worked to drag you up. You probably looked a little mad, scrambling up a steep hill to reach something that probably won’t save you, but there was no other option. The hum grew louder, the quiet was broken, and you only had a few moments to get this right. 

“Help!” Your lungs caved around your scream, but the forest swallowed it instantly. Greedy trees with their greedy barks, wanting to keep you hidden from salvation. The hum grew louder. Your fingers grew clammy, sweating and slipping against rough wood. 

You’d be bruised to high heaven later, and probably exhausted, but the hum and the growl of an engine meant a road and a road meant civilization and goddammit you just needed to get over the stupid fucking hill. 

There was a loud ringing in your ears, nearly deafening, and making your voice sound fuzzy. 

“Help! Help!”

Was that you? Were you the one screaming like that? Why couldn’t you be quiet? Those things could have been lurking… wandering nearby… coming up behind you, eager to grasp at your ankles and drag you back down to Hell. 

A glance back over your shoulder, aching from the duffle bag, found nothing but blurred terrain and darkened leaves–a symptom of the setting sun. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. If the light went out, you’d be screwed. You couldn’t use the last of your matches and the world went black when evening struck. So there really was no choice. As the growl turned into a roar… there was no choice. Just a little higher- a little more. Your arms pushed, biceps straining against the cotton of your shirt, and your pants threatened to get caught on wayward sticks and tear into rags. The boots on your feet pressed hard against loose rocks, kicking them out of place, and gained just enough ground to push you up - over the ridge. The final stretch. Your chest pushed to the hard dirt and forced a grunt of effort from your tired body; the sound echoed through the woods, through the ground, and through the air that sat above the concrete road in front of you. Hard and vast, grey and long… you looked at it as though it were the holiest of grails, lying just beside it with your arms outstretched, your fingers still pulling at dirtied grass. Soil covered your skin, masked your features, caked beneath your fingernails, and when the roar of the speeding vehicle grew so close you had to close your eyes and wince, you knew raising a hand for help would not be enough. In the shade of the forest’s edge, half draped over the peak of the hill, you were inhuman to other survivors. Your dry mouth opened, your throat croaked, and your legs moved to push you up–closer–just short of the wind that caressed your hair when the car, the truck, ran past you with no second glance. You looked after it, watched it pass, and felt the burn in your heart grow into its own inferno. It licked at your insides, at your desperation, and had you hauling the duffle bag off of your shoulder and out onto the road. It rolled, a shuffling sound, and you followed after it with deep growls of effort and dwindling strength. 

“Please,” you wheezed, panting for breath as soon as you staggered up to your feet. 

In the distance, the car turned into a disappearing black spec. It drove and drove, out of sight, and you stood there, putting your arms in the air to wave it down and bring it back. To beckon it back. To beg and plead.

“Please please no-,” your voice was soft, weakened by days of rugged survival, “no…” rough and lost to the wind, it dissipated into nothing and you were forced to swallow again.  

The thick smell of car exhaust settled against the steaming road. You watched the horizon, tracking the space in the atmosphere where the gold traced into a deep blue, and felt your bones quake beneath your skin. Their final cry. The last hurrah as you watched your future, the tatters of it, drive away from you. 

Too late. 

You were too late. 

And you’d die there, on that road, and they may never come back and find you again in the morning. And your corpse would be chewed upon by undead bastards who would never give you a proper burial. And you’d be just another stupid human that found themselves trampled beneath the stinking feet of the walking dead. 

Tears teased your eyes, burning the dry lands of your irises, and you felt the heart in your chest lurch against its cage. 

 Too late. 

You were too late. 

You had a duffle bag, a handgun somewhere off to the side, and the clothing on your back. One lasting water bottle, the knife you felt poking your side, and small bags of food that wouldn’t last you long at all. The tent, too, was destroyed by animals the night before. The most you could go was perhaps one more day, but your feet were aching so terribly that each step was a journey within itself. And you couldn’t push yourself to go further. There was no further. There was nothing in the woods and there was nothing beyond the road and you were running on fumes that no longer existed. 

But you couldn’t just lie there and take it. You were about to reach over, bending at the waist, to grab your bag. To pull it up over your shoulder and trek on, even though it was pointless. But something stopped you. 

Something–a sound–made you freeze. 

It was faint. It didn’t sound like the undead, with their discordant groans and disgusting squelches, no… it was far. Getting closer. Closer. The hum and the growl. The purr of a motor. The hiss of pavement. 

Your head snapped up, eyes bulging wide as you looked over the horizon to see…. Yes. Yes! Yes, it’s them! The car! A grin pulled at your lips. Halle-fucking-lujah! You felt the anxiety ebb, slowly falling away from your body, as they got closer. The black spec turned into a black blob, then a figure that took shape, and finally you could make out a Vermont license plate and the dirt that stuck to big wheels. Up close, it was a sleek thing, tall and well-built. Midnight black and aside from the splatter on the rubbered wheels, it was polished and clean. The dark paint reflected the bright world around you, turning it into weird warped versions of a faux-paradise. You swallowed at the feel of warmth against your legs, the exhaust from the truck flooding over the smallest sliver of skin around your ankles. Suddenly fearing a changed mind and bad intentions, you stumbled back until your heels pushed against your bag. 

Tinted windows stared down at you, menacing and opaque. Not a thing to see behind them, even if you squinted. Nothing moved, nothing jumped, and you watched with bated breath for a window to roll down - until finally, it did. 

The driver’s side. It went whirr-ing down, sliding for the shortest period of time in the world until only a shadow met you - and then a flicker of movement. And then- 

“Oh my god! Jesus! Okay okay!” You flinched, not even hesitating to raise your hands above your head. You spread your fingers out, desperate to prove your innocence to the stranger in the car. And the gun they were holding, pointing at you, through the gap. 

“Were you bit?” A rough voice, muted and deep, broke the atmosphere. 

You shook your head.

“Words. Use them.” 

“No,” you licked your lips, instantly deciding to turn around in a slow circle. “Not bitten. Not scratched.” You tried to ignore the way your hands shook, even as you shifted all the way back to face the gun’s muzzle. 

“Ask where…” a voice, soft and feminine, came from somewhere beyond the driver’s seat. It was saying something, telling something, but faded into a whisper so quiet you couldn’t hear a thing. Your eyes shifted to the dark backseat windows, trying to see something- anything- and found no surprise in the lack of life. 

“Any weapons?” The driver seemed to ignore the other person, and instead held the gun steady. You watched it with weary eyes.

“Yes.” And before they could ask, you tugged the knife out of your belt and the gun out of your pants pocket. They were held up in the air, another white flag, and you twitched the hand that held the firearm. “At least three bullets left, but that’s it.” 

“And the others?” 

You blinked. “Others? What oth-”

“Where is the rest of your ammunition? In the skull of a human or scum?” The stranger spat, and you detected the hints of an accent. 

Scum… you’d never heard them referred to as that before. Your last group called them walkers, and some others claimed flesh-eaters. You were tempted to use ‘zombies’, but it felt rather silly. The world took that term too lightly, and the undead were nothing if not a very serious problem. But scum? Like they were beneath humanity and not its current destroyer? You’d ask about it later, you decided, if they deemed you well enough to take in. 

“Both,” you breathed honestly, dropping your weapons to your sides with a heavy sigh. “They um- weren’t quite there yet. Got ambushed overnight.” 

The gun still didn’t move. 

“They don’t ambush. What really happened?” 

Hm. They weren’t wrong. Animated corpses didn’t ‘ambush’, but when a herd of them went lurking about, it certainly felt that way. You didn’t think logistics were entirely necessary, but you understood the need for specifics. Trust among men was eviscerated in the face of danger, especially against those once living. You’d seen paranoia before, in others. Humans simply didn’t take each other in anymore… not without some level of severe mistrust. The second thought after seeing the truck drive off was that you probably wouldn’t be accepted anyway - you’d killed without technical reason. Could have just left. Run away. 

But you didn’t. 

You didn’t want to see them turn into those… creatures. 

So what else was there to say? You stared at the gun, willing a click and the shot of a bullet, as you opened your mouth. 

“A herd. A lot of them. Just… descended upon the place. Someone might’ve been walking around in the woods or something, and there was just not enough protection,” you paused, licking your lips, “...I was the last one alive. Had to shoot them and go.” 

“How long since?” 

“Few days, give or take,” you shrugged. The exhaustion only built as you stood there, trying not to sway and collapse in your spot. The truck was still running, hissing hot exhaust; it was the first genuinely warm thing you’d felt in so many days that you wanted to crawl underneath and take a nap. The world, turning to autumn, was growing chilly. There was no chance you could survive winter on your own. 

“...Give or take,” you heard the driver scoff and laugh, bitter and mean. You frowned. 

Then the window started going up, and you couldn’t help yourself. With a hard thunk, you pushed your shoulder hard against the car, and knocked on the thick glass with the butt of the knife. A look of utter desperation crossed your features, heavy and thick. Urgency, anxiety, fear forced any sense from your mind. There was no chance. There was no survival at all.

“No please- please I can’t be out here alone please- I’m smart and- and I can run fast and be an asset. Please,” you shook your head, searching with worried eyes, “please, please you can’t do this to me-” 

Something dark spliced through the corner of your vision, dragging a shadow with it, and you just barely dodged the sudden swing of the truck’s backseat door. It bounced with force and you glanced back at the driver’s window once before stepping back and hastily swinging your bag over your shoulder. The knife and gun were slipped back into your clothing, concealed, and you held yourself strong as the black leathered interior bore itself to the world. 

“-we can’t just leave them-” 

“-on’t be stupid. They could be a liability-”

“-not stupid. We need more people-” 

Voices, at least two, were rushed and tangled in an argument. You didn’t pay much attention to what you could hear, though the growing irritation was hard to ignore. It would be a hassle to be accepted, you knew, but you’d deal. There was no choice. The backseat door was open and there was a figure hustled back against the other window. 

“The offer won’t last,” the stranger murmured, somehow louder than the two people in the front seats, and you decided not to take any chances in the world alone. 

With a grunt, a push, and a final slam of the door, you found yourself in the truck. Your bag was pushed down by your feet, you tugged your knife out to rest it on your thigh, and you turned to say thank you- but was cut off by a cold blade at your throat. It grazed the soft dirty skin, less than a centimeter away from pushing, and you felt saliva pool in the back of your throat. Swallowing would have pressed you closer, so you fought the urge and only stared.

“Woah-” 

“Try anything and you die. I don’t want a peep, not a shuffle. Do I make myself clear?” 

The driver’s voice, clearer in such close quarters, was deep and mean. Accent, as you had clocked, from somewhere in the United Kingdom. It held a natural growl, a gruffness from years of smoking, perhaps, and you couldn’t help but sense the intimidation. It wasn’t fake confidence, you noticed, as you looked up and met the cool sharp grey gaze of a woman. Her hair, a deep blonde, was slicked back and short, ruffled slightly by the nape of her neck. A long neck… that led to strong looking shoulders. They were half covered by a jacket, but you could see the strength in the chords of her muscle. A force to be reckoned with. A leader, perhaps. She was pale, with a defined nose and lips twisted into a permanent sneer, and you probably would have thought she had some potential for post-apocalyptic modeling, if it weren’t for the scar that covered one half of her face. Slashed across the left eye, the wound was jagged and rough - it dragged from a point close to the exact middle of her forehead, right to the corner of her jaw. Thicker at parts and thinner at others, it split through a pale eyebrow and seemed to have permanently rendered her blind. The lid didn’t even move when one stormy eye shifted, and you suddenly felt extremely creeped out. Something about her was undeniably cold. Almost reckless, but her hand was so steady with control you knew not to make a move. She’d probably kill without hesitation, dump you back into the road, and drive off with the duffel. There was no choice but to answer, answer quickly, and do as told. 

“Yes, clear.” Your head shifted half an inch up and half an inch down, still cautious of the blade. 

But she didn’t move. 

It was a battle of wills for just a moment, with your hands in your lap, empty and docile. You weren’t looking for a fight, or a staring contest, but the stranger didn’t let up until the figure to your right decided to sit up and speak. 

“Ah they do not seem so bad. Look at them. Tired and scared, like sad city mouse,” another woman, one with a Russian accent and a voice a hint too loud, cooed. 

Silence followed, persisted, for only a minute- and then the blade was tugged back so quickly you swear it nearly cut the air in two. The driver tsked as she twisted herself around, murmuring as she went. 

“More like a rat.” 

And then you were thrown to the side with a heavy wheeze as the truck lurched and began moving, working into a turn so you could go back the way they’d come.

You glared at the back of the headrest, not feeling above a little bit of irritation for some poor handling, but eventually grew bored. With some apprehension, your eyes flicked over to the person in the passenger seat. Their profile was strong, feminine, and you noted the unbelievably well-kept head of snowy hair. She looked clean, just like the driver, and a spark of hope welled up in your tired heart. Running water and food existed where they came from, wherever they were camped out, and if you played your cards right, you could finally indulge in some good hygiene. Unless the woman in the passenger seat was stingy with her water… god her skin was so clear, and she seemed to be wearing makeup. No one wore makeup anymore. Not the people in your old group and not the few stragglers you’d stumbled across. It simply wasn’t a necessary luxury anymore, but the woman sitting across from you, back straight and hands in her lap, seemed to think it was of the utmost importance. You wanted to speak, wanted to ask her name, but found yourself turning to your right - and catching the gaze of the person that opened the door for you. 

“Anna,” your savior spoke, tilting her head to the left and regarding you with curious eyes. A pale hand, big and long-fingered, shot out and hovered above your lap. You glanced down at it, at the clean skin and the perfect fingernails, and knew that you hit the survivalist jackpot. 

With a nod and a quick clasp of her hand, you whispered your name in reply. She nodded before leaning back against the door and crossing her arms; she seemed quite comfortable there, with a rather large gun resting across her lap. Her hair, blonde as well, fell in gentle waves to her shoulders. She saw with deep blue eyes - a contrast to the cold steel of the driver - and didn’t hesitate to flick them over your body in some sort of analytical search. Weapons, you figured, is what she was looking for. And the knife in your lap, which she eyed with some interest. 

You wanted to say something, wanted to thank them, but it didn’t feel like enough. Nothing felt like enough those days. Asking something of someone was a risk every single time. And you’d asked—begged—them to take you in. You needed to pull your weight, no questions asked. 

“Um- thank you for-”

“Shoot them.” 

“What?!” You straightened up, eyes going wide as, in your peripherals, you saw Anna’s hand inch toward her gun. Through the rear-view mirror, you caught the way the driver’s brow twitched. 

“You heard me. Shoot them.” 

“Pha-”

“I said no talking,” the stranger growled, not even bothering to address the woman in the passenger seat. The white-haired woman looked frustrated, her red lips tugging into a frown, as she watched the driver double down on her focus. “Didn’t I say that?” 

“But I-,” you wanted to plead your case, wanted to defend yourself, but were cut off. 

“I am not going to shoot,” Anna said before you could speak. “Why do you expect her to be quiet hah, Phasma? We just saved her жопa. No need for fighting.”

You glanced at her, picking up on the Native tongue. Fresh off the boat, or perhaps visiting, with the way she said it so easily. Zhopa? Given the context, it wasn’t hard to tell what she meant. Yes, they had just saved your ass. And yes, you wanted to say thank you. Even if that Phasma person wasn’t too keen on a bit of gratitude. 

“I hardly think thanking us for a kind deed is worthy of execution, no matter how much silence you require,” the fair-haired woman across from you said smoothly, throwing a slight glare to the woman on her right. And finally, she took that moment to turn around in the seat and make eye contact. 

Something that proved to be far more difficult than you thought it would. Good lord, she was gorgeous. Pale skin, deep admiral blue eyes, and lips redder than blood. Not even a scratch on her face, not even a single spec of dirt - as if the apocalypse never happened and there weren’t dead people roaming every street in the world. In fact, she didn’t seem incredibly worried about the predicament the human species found itself in, and was looking at you with kind eyes, a furrowed brow, and a smile that she hoped was welcoming. 

“My name is Larissa,” her hand, gloved in white fabric as soft as silk, reached out as an olive branch. You wanted to take it, wanted to feel something so lovely for the first time in a long time and create some sort of bond, but your hands were very dirty. A part of you guessed that Larissa hadn’t put them on earlier that day with the hope to return to camp holding soft fabric smudged with dirt and dried blood, so you only looked down at your palm and then back at hers. 

“Oh uh- I don’t wanna get your gloves dirty-” 

“Oh,” she glanced down, realizing that she was, in fact, wearing hand-coverings. “Later, then,” a warm smile shone back at you - and you were helpless, instantly offering her a nod in return. 

“Finished?” The driver piped up, eyes cold as she stared at you in the rear-view. 

As if on cue, Larissa turned back around in her seat, rolling her eyes as she went, and you could only fall quiet. Introductions were over, you were warming up to the easy heat in the car, and Phasma–if you dared address her by name in your head–had a good handle of the wheel. You were safe. For now. And with one last suspended look at the gun on Anna’s lap, you reached over for the seatbelt, tucked yourself in with a click, and leaned back in the seat. It was so suddenly comfortable, such a huge contrast to the shit you’d dealt with recently, that you couldn’t help but close your eyes and revel. Even for a moment. Even for a second.

—

“Get up,” a mean grunt, paired with a quick rush of piercingly cold air, tugged you from the depths of sleep. 

Before you could even open your eyes properly, a shiver set itself into your bones. Eager to escape it, and the confines of the car, you jolted and scrambled for your seatbelt. Leaning against the open door, watching you grab your things, was the driver. Phasma? Weird name, but there was no time to dwell - especially not when she was looking at you like that. Eyes sharper than the knife on your lap, holding a polished chrome pistol in one hand, and waiting with some tension for you to hurry up. The duffel was pulled up onto your shoulder, the knife was tucked into your belt, and your hands scratched at the leather as you looked around wildly for your gun. 

“We took it. You’ll get it back when you prove you’re not a complete imbecile,” she spat, peering down her nose at you. Disgust danced in her expression, sparking flames of unwanted insecurity, and you felt compelled to look away. Her nostrils were flared, her pink lips curled into something disdainful and mean, and you couldn’t help but watch the way her jaw shifted as she tensed, watching you watch her. The hatred seemed a bit out of place, too strong for normal trust issues, and you briefly wondered if perhaps she’d always been that way - even before the end of civilization. She was clearly a bitch, and not interested in showing you kindness any time soon, so you decided to forgo a response, ignored her glaring, and slipped out of the car without a word. 

Before your feet were completely on the ground, and your bag was out of the way, the door slammed closed behind you, quick and sharp. The speed of it nearly clipped your shirt, and you whirled around to face the stranger’s irritation. She seemed to have lost interest in you and side-stepped your figure without another glance. One finger on the trigger, a shit-ton of audacity-filled swagger in her walk, and a back broad and strong. She looked like an outlaw, tall, mean, wearing grey with a belt around her strong hips and a leather jacket over her shoulders. You wanted to throw your gun at her and watch it hit the back of her head, but there was no way in Hell you’d be able to run away faster than she could catch you. 

“Come,” you heard Anna speak, interrupting your train of thought as she trudged up to your left. You turned, seeing the way she cocked her head. “I’ll introduce you.” The gun swayed in her grasp as she turned, making little shuffling sounds in the grass. 

The grass. 

You went to go forward, but stopped. The grass. It was… terribly neat. Very well maintained. Not like apocalypse grass, which was flat and bloodied and mudded and dusted, but like rich person grass. Striking green grass, healthy, it bounced back behind you when you stepped on it. And the air… you took a deep breath and closed your eyes. It was fresh. Pure. Free of the smell of death and free of gunpowder and spraying blood. Just where on Earth were y-

oh.

Oh. 

You looked up, finally, and found yourself in a courtyard. On all sides was a wall, sections of it made of brick, others of stone, and the rest of wrought iron fence, bolted hard into the ground; and across the way, piercing the sky, was a manor. Or what looked like a manor. No - what was definitely a manor. Dark, illuminated slightly by the deep blue of the atmosphere and the torches that littered the ground in neat paths, splitting off into cobblestone sections. You swallowed. It was gorgeous. Untouched. A world that seemed to run on and on while the rest of the globe went to shit. 

How fucking lucky were you? 

“Come! I must say twice?!” Anna called, giving you an exasperated beckon as she started disappearing behind the dark stone brick of the main entrance. 

Sparing a quick glance behind you, you found a fortified gate and short stone walls - reinforced and built upon with barbed wire, wood, and sheets of metal. It must have opened up for the truck when you were still asleep, but was very much firmly shut and impenetrable once closed. You wanted to explore it more, wanted to study the mechanism and the layout and come to understand just how they managed to get the place so protected, but you didn’t want to leave Anna waiting. And a low rumble of thunder, far but rolling quick, told you that rain was eager to make her appearance - and you did not want to get caught in that. 

After adjusting your bag and patting the knife in your belt for reassurance, you set off after the Russian stranger. 

—

“So I am Anna, this you know already,” she pointed to herself, tapped her chest twice, then rolled her hand over to gesture to the clearing ahead. 

It was beautiful, outlined against a dark wood. Rocky paths led to a big circle in the middle, and the ruins of stone benches and statues littered the camp. You could definitely see what it used to be - a beautiful place for the elite to sit, to bask, to enjoy the nice air and the wind. But the end of the world had gotten to it, not with the bearings of total destruction, but with the promise of change. A big spruce shelter had been built to the far left, reinforced with four beams and no walls - clearly just meant to keep the rain at bay while they worked outside. Beneath it, there were wooden benches and designated spots for farming equipment, guns, and even a water purifying system from the looks of it. If you assumed that sleeping quarters and showers existed in the castle, then they seemed to be in the best shape anyone could be in.

Even the people, who were busy going about their evening and tending to their duties, while you watched by Anna’s side and felt your excitement grow.

“Phasma was woman driving. Not so kind,” she tsked, giving you a knowing look, and you found yourself unable to ask about the strange name. You figured she wouldn’t have known the answer anyway. Then her hand moved, stealing your attention. “That is Jane,” she pointed to a pale woman sitting on one of the large stone benches. 

Her back was turned, but you could see the severity of her expression in the reflection of a hand mirror. She was handsome, free of makeup, with jet-black hair. The strands fell from between her fingertips, spilling like water, as she threaded them into a braid around her head. Her movements were slow, methodic, and you watched, sort of hypnotized, as the long sleeves of her hooded dress stretched across her slim back. Tight along her arms and resting over the black pants covering her thighs, leading down to knee-high leather boots. Fit for an apocalypse, but somehow still chic. You watched her hands for a moment more, and turned slightly to her right when Anna gestured to the woman beside her. 

“Miranda. Good girl, but way too skinskie,” she nodded to herself while crossing her arms. 

The stranger in question–Miranda–was holding up an antique hand mirror for Jane to look into while doing her hair. They seemed to be the same height, though Miranda’s build was lankier and toned. The sleeves of her white top had to have been torn off, leaving freckled shoulders free to the air, and around one wrist was a black watch. It nearly matched the same leather as her belt, which held an attached holster and a sleeve for a walkie-talkie. Its antenna stood out against the baby blue of her uniform pants; tight by the hips but baggier toward the ankles, tucked into dark laced boots. Her hair was styled into a fair blonde bob, probably recently cut by the sight of such clean edges. It looked unbearably soft kissing the back of her neck.

“She was policewoman. Strong.” Anna commented, gazing at her from your spot by the castle wall. 

You nodded absentmindedly, looking over the two strangers and the chess board that sat between them on the bench. Jane had black and Miranda white. The latter seemed to be focusing quite hard on the game, holding a pawn loosely in one hand, as the dark-haired beauty tsked and adjusted the hand mirror that slowly slipped to the side. You watched Miranda jump and offer what you assumed was a sheepish apology, as she tried to multitask. Her small smile was pink and soft, warm and welcoming. A friend, perhaps. 

“Very…domestic,” came your soft murmur, sparked by the surprise of such a peaceful camp. In the past group, everyone was too busy trying to sleep, find food, or talk themselves through panic attacks. Maintaining sanity with comfort was not a priority. 

“Da. Comfortable,” your companion nodded. “Jan is there, washing.” And you turned, yet again, to find a figure standing in front of a clothesline. 

The combat boots made her seem tall, though they were a bit out of place—not really matching the long white sleeved shirt and full red skirt combo. Immaculate and clean, you noticed, though that was to be expected from a woman trying her hardest to get blood out of a white blouse. Her hands were covered by blue rubber gloves, with one clutched around a sponge and the other around the neck of a bottle of white wine vinegar. On the ground by her feet was a large pale jug of hydrogen peroxide and a bucket of what you assumed was water. And the blouse in front of her, held up by wooden clothespins, rippled from the breeze. It seemed to get colder and windier the longer the night went on, probably bringing the rain with it at some point. With any luck, it would clear up the light splotches of pink that covered most of the shirt’s chest up to the collar, but ‘Jan’ didn’t seem too patient and satisfied with that. She got back to her scrubbing a moment later, the strict waves of her blonde hair bumping gently against her neck. 

“Jan is very chic. You go to her for fashion advice, no?” Anna tilted her head at you, dragging dark blue eyes over your face. The lawn lamps stabbed into the grass lit everything up with a sweet warm glow, bringing out the flames in her expression as she peered at you curiously. Very handsome, in her own sharp-featured sort of way. You couldn’t help the snort that bubbled up. 

“Respectfully, I think fashion is the least of my concerns right now, Anna.” 

“Hm. Maybe,” she hummed, shrugged, and gave you a once-over that set your heart racing before turning her attention back to the group. 

“Brienne!” You jumped, flinching away as Anna’s loud voice carried into your ear. In the distance, a hulking figure shifted and unfolded, moving to look up at the call. They were sitting on a big pile of cut logs, holding a stone cylindrical sharpener in one hand and a… sword… in the other. Anna waved, talking to you gently as you both watched the figure’s expression change into one of suspicion. She was handsome. Pale, with the lightest blonde lashes and brows, and eyes that sparkled even from that distance. They squinted, drawing frown lines across her face, as she straightened up in her spot. You tried desperately not to stare at her figure, but it was impossible. The deep blue ribbed shirt clung to her torso like a second skin, wrapping tightly around strong biceps and broad shoulders. It was tucked into muddy green cargo pants, offsetting the brightness of the steel that covered the toes of her dark boots. You tilted your head and watched as she glanced between you and Anna before she finally decided to shoot the woman a firm nod. Anna’s lips quirked up into a smile. “She was once soldier. Good woman - she will protect you if you’re in trouble. Saved me many many times.” Her blonde curls swished as she nodded to herself. 

That was good to know, you reasoned. Everyone seemed quite strong. Tall, too. And pale. The camp was gorgeous, the people seemed mundane enough, and the company was… well. Your eyes drifted over to Anna’s side profile, a silhouette of soft dips and curves, and you couldn’t hide the attraction you felt even if you tried.

“Larissa, you know too. She is leader, xорошо?” You didn’t really know what ‘harasho’ meant, but the light intonation of her voice had you saying ‘Yeah’ anyway. 

Then an arm was winding itself around yours, jostling the bag on your shoulder and the gun slung around Anna’s body. It rested against her back, hitting her thighs, and you were suddenly powerless to the way she steered you further down the gravel path. Toward the right, there was a makeshift driveway; a patch of land ripped up from the grass and replaced with gravel, soil, and rocks. The black truck made an appearance again, probably having been driven up from around the back, and you watched with curious eyes as Phasma busied herself with a few bags and boxes from the trunk. Jesus, she was fit… tall and lethal. A small grunt left her lips when she hauled two boxes up into her arms, never faltering or pausing. Damn. You found yourself getting lost in the sight of her legs in those cargo pants, filling them out, until Anna clicked her tongue. 

“Lucifer is strange, but ultimately harmless. Do not worry, they are not naked under the robe.” 

Lucifer? Naked under the what? 

You were going to take a quick glance around, to find whatever the hell Anna was talking about, but there was no need. Some feet in front of you, lounging on a red and gold velvet chase, was a lithe figure. They were almost glowing in the reflection of the walkway lamps, with the deep crimson of a flowing silk robe offsetting the smooth pale planes of soft skin. One elbow was propped up on the arm of the chair, and you traced the folds of flowing sleeves up to a slim forearm, wrist, and a delicate hand. Slender fingers were curled under the curve of a pale cheek, and you felt your heartbeat speed up at the sight of soft features and  crystal eyes. And their hair, curled so perfectly into handsome shining ringlets of spun golden-web… goodness, they were… 

“Luxurious,” you murmured, tilting your head as you watched the stranger chat with Larissa. She was standing over them, in front of the chase, and even at that height, you had a feeling that the one laying down was somehow a little bit taller. “Is Lucifer their real name?” 

“Da,” Anna nodded, “little strange, no?” 

“Yeah,” you gave her an odd look. “Strange as fuck.” 

“Don’t get comfortable,” a voice growled from behind you, making you slip away from Anna’s hold and turn around. Phasma was walking past, holding a big bag under each arm. Her muscle was impressive, but dear god she was an asshole. You had to sort out that situation as quick as possible.

“Hey what’s your problem, man?” You spread your hands out at your sides before letting them slap against your thighs. “You picked me up, and while I’m grateful for that, I am, you didn’t have to-”

“Exactly,” she bit out as she whirled around and marched right back to you. Her breath was cool, washing lightly over your face, and she stood so close that your foreheads nearly touched. From that angle, looking up, you could reach out and trace the jagged line of her scar. It was quite attractive actually, even if her eyes narrowed as she watched you look at her. They were cold. Not an ounce of care.

“Don’t. Get. Comfortable.” Her lips twitched, carrying a silent threat.

“Okay,” Larissa’s voice, sing-songy and weary, cut into the conversation. “Why don’t we all take a moment to calm down, hm?” Her smile was blinding as she turned to you. One gloved hand hovered above Phasma’s right shoulder, but was instantly shrugged off the second it made contact. Her sneer didn’t fade even when she stepped back, eyes still flaming with anger. Larissa cleared her throat. “Y/n, you’re new here. Why don’t you and I have a little chat?” 

Her expression, although kind, hid a sharpness that you didn’t think was wise to fuck around with. If Larissa was the leader, according to Anna, then it was her you had to charm. You didn’t really know why she was the top dog, especially because some of the other group members seemed more… abrasive… but clearly something about her was good enough to be the one in charge. And pissing her off, messing around with her people, was a one-way ticket to possibly turning into those fuckers lurking in the woods. So you didn’t really have a choice - and you didn’t really want one. No matter what, you’d stay. You’d be of some help. You’d stay on the soft grass, smelling the clean air. You’d become best friends with Larissa, the group would learn to like you, and you’d try not to combust when any of them looked your way.

Easier said than done though, of course. Especially when Larissa’s smile knocked down all of your reservations at once, in one big swing, and coaxed an obedient nod from your body. 

“Okay. Yes. Sure.” 

“Perfect,” Larissa’s grin, somehow, grew even wider. 

“It’s getting late,” were Phasma’s parting words before she turned away and headed off toward two big wooden double doors. 

You watched her strut without much thought, and found yourself on the other end of a staring Larissa. Her eyes were utterly striking in the evening light, and the outline of her face… a sight to be seen for a person as weary as you. 

“So… is your group considered women only?” You murmured, peering up at her through your eyelashes. 

Red lips twitched. 

“Not intentionally. Though we have had the discussion before,” she contemplated her next words carefully, looking all over your face before resuming, “and we think it’s best if it’s just women. And Lucifer.” 

“And Lucifer?” You still can’t get over that being their real name. Probably just picked out in a moment of edginess when they were a teen. Lucifer did sound cool, sort of bully-worthy. Like they were emo kid once upon a time.

“Lucifer is what many would refer to as non-binary. Not a man and not a woman. I hope that won’t be a problem?” Something flashed behind her eyes. Not a threat, but a warning. You couldn’t help but smile.

“Not at all. They and I are… one and the same,” you shrugged and adjusted the bag on your shoulder. 

“How lucky I must be…,” someone purred from over your shoulder.

You tensed up, surprised by the closeness, and felt yourself grow a little weak at the tone. Like spiced honey, their voice was intense and smooth. You wanted to lap it up. 

“Ah right on time for a proper introduction,” Larissa, ever the most efficient woman from what you could tell so far, found herself a golden opportunity. One hand shot out and gestured over to you, then to the person slinking around to your right. “Y/n this is Lucifer, one of the strongest members of our group. Lucifer and I make most of the big decisions, with the necessary input from everyone else. And Lucifer,” Larissa’s grin relaxed into a smile, “this is Y/n. Depending on our discussion of the rules, they may become a familiar face, so I suggest you play nice.” 

You found that you couldn’t look to the side without short-circuiting. There was something.. something… about their aura that had you wanting to shy away and cower. It wasn’t the explosive intensity of Phasma or the consuming strangeness of Anna, or even the gentle but strong hand of Larissa… but instead a subtle sort of consumption. Utterly intriguing and fascinating - like they were put on the Earth to confuse humans. You didn’t even look at them and you could feel that. Didn’t even know them and you could feel that. Standing so close. So much body heat. 

“It’s a pleasure,” they murmured, turning to you fully. 

You swallowed, braced yourself, and looked up to your right. 

Sweet holy Jesus. They were even more handsome up close. Just absolutely soft and glorious. And carrying the faint scent of… firewood? You cleared your throat. 

“Um yeah- likewise. Hi.” 

A flash of black, followed by measured footsteps in the grass, had all three of you shifting to see Jane walking past. Miranda was not too far behind, taking her time to cross the yard. 

“Dinner is being prepared. Show face in the next 20 minutes or go to bed hungry.” Jane didn’t even spare you a glance before she disappeared behind the same doors Phasma had gone through. 

“Thank you, Jane,” Larissa managed to call just before they closed behind her with a dull bang. 

“Three moves…,” Miranda was muttering, holding the box for the chess set in one hand. “She beat me in three moves.” 

“Oh it’s not hard. I would’ve beaten you in two,” another voice entered the fray, polite but amused. Jan, you recognized, as she sidled up between you and Larissa with a small smile on her deep red lips. 

Miranda scoffed and turned to look at Anna, only to find that she was gone. One glance behind you revealed that she’d wandered over to Brienne, probably prompting her to go inside for dinner. You hummed, hiding the amusement of friendly banter. It had been so long since you felt even the smallest sense of normalcy. If they were so comfortable with each other, then it must have been a bit since they were all alone out in the world. You’d probably ask Larissa about that later - once everything was said and done. 

“I would’ve beaten you in one,” Lucifer smirked as they pulled away and went walking inside. Had they been barefoot the entire time? 

“That’s not even possible!” Miranda yelled, but the door was already shut. “...Is it?” She turned to Larissa, then to you, then back to Larissa. 

“I don’t think so, Miranda,” Larissa smiled before looking at you. “Any chance you’re good at chess?” 

Dear lord, having two sets of beautiful blue eyes on you was nerve-wracking, but you ignored the flush building up on your cheeks and nodded. 

“Um yeah- it’s possible to beat someone in two moves. But it’s only black, I think.” You gave Miranda an apologetic smile and a shrug as she pouted. 

“You will beat her next time Miranda,” Anna returned with Brienne in her wake. The sword she was sharpening earlier was still in her hands. “She cannot win forever.” 

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Brienne cut in, her voice strong and deep. Her mouth was pulled into a light frown, and you noticed the scar that cut through the upper lip on the right. From the time before, you suspected. Otherwise she’d be turned. “She beat me and Phasma one after the other.” 

Miranda sighed, tsking beneath her breath. 

“Then there’s no hope…” Goodness, she looked like a sad puppy.

“Why not?” It slipped out of your mouth before you could grab it. 

And of course, all of the attention then dragged itself over to you. Five sets of sea-blue eyes, all gorgeous in the glow of the evening lamps, traced lines over your tired body. In comparison to them, you looked a sight. Obviously having been picked up from the side of the road, unclean and awkward, somewhat detached from society. In your bag? Not enough clothing and not enough supplies. In your belt, peeking out from beneath your shirt? A knife, dirty and growing dull. And in your eyes? Lurking sadness and horror - the same which probably lived in the women that were observing you. 

Larissa, thank goodness, finally broke the lull of silence. 

“Brienne and Phasma were in the military,” she said gently.

“Oh. That makes sense.” And it did - Jane must have been an intellectual force if she beat people that used to be in the military before the world ended. Though that made you wonder… “What branch?” You turned to Brienne, not really surprised that you had to look up to meet her eyes. It seemed you’d been adopted into a camp of skyscrapers. Though the sharpness of her eyes had you swallowing. “I mean- if you don’t mind me asking.” 

She seemed to consider it, sizing you up, before saying, rather shortly, “SAS. Then Delta Force.” 

You couldn’t hide the way your eyes widened. 

“Oh.” 

“Oh, indeed,” Larissa hummed. “But I think now would be a good time to head in, wouldn’t you say?” She spared her smile for everyone, meeting the gaze of each woman, before finally looking at you and raising her eyebrow. 

It wasn’t really up to you, so you just shrugged and waited for Anna to say ‘Da, da, xорошо’ before heading in. Brienne followed after her, then Miranda, who was studying the back of the chess box, and Larissa, who started taking off her gloves. Jan, meanwhile, stayed where she was and kept her eyes on you. They were curious and deep, never-ending, and lined with mascara and eyeliner. Mascara and eyeliner that… well it suited her, but goodness it was certainly intense. Dark and shadowed, but beautiful nevertheless. You couldn’t look away. 

“Jan Stevens,” she breathed and gave you her hand, elegant and admittedly quite charming. Her nails were painted a deep cherry red. Utterly flawless.

At the sight of it, you weren’t entirely sure what to do. Your palms were still dirty, and sort of calloused, and you didn’t want to… ruin her. So you hesitated, stared at it, looked back up at her, and found her kind smile to be unwavering. 

“Go on,” Jan finally whispered, giving her hand a pointed look, and you fell prey in an instant. 

Quickly, you shot out to gently cup her hand into your own, and gave it a gentle shake. You felt strangely compelled to bring it up to your lips, but you weren’t sure that meeting a stranger in an apocalypse really called for such formalities. Even though you yearned to feel her skin beneath your mouth. It wasn’t proper; though you did think that Jan’s expression fell just a little bit. Like she was excited. Like she wanted you to kiss her hand. 

“Y/n. It’s nice to meet you.” 

“Likewise,” she purred, looking you up and down, before turning toward the door. “Come quickly now. If we’re late, Jane will send us off to bed without dinner. And we wouldn’t want that.” 

It probably would have been wise to consider and contemplate the fact that you were in a stranger’s camp, with a stranger’s group… but the saucy little wink that Jan threw over her shoulder sent a deep blush crawling up your cheeks. And just like that, without fail, you were one of the flesh-eaters… caught in the pretty paws of eight different beasts. 

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Please let me know if my characterization is okay and if you'd like to see more. Be safe, darlings. - Rip x

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Far too many names to tag. Find it as you come.

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

[daydream-cement]

In The Closet (NSFW)

Miranda Hilmarson x Reader

Miranda comes to visit you in the storage closet.

Second weekend in Smutember with @alexusonfire! The first week prompt is over the clothes!

The door to the file room opened and closed quietly behind you, making you glance over your shoulder. Your eyes narrowed skeptically at your girlfriend who had entered who's smirk gracing her lips was as mischievous as ever.

“What are you doing all holed up back here?” Miranda inquired, approaching you from behind. Her height allowed her to glance over your shoulder to the case files stretched out before you.

“I ran out of things to do, so I am alphabetizing the files like they should be.” You huffed as you thought over all the work you had done in the past hour. The same work that had been caused by some of your coworkers inability to put things away properly.

Miranda chuckled softly at your snide remark, her arms wrapping around your waist. The physical contact only melted you a bit as the annoyance you had for your coworkers still was in the forefront of your mind. “You need to relax, honey…”

“I need to finish my work.” You retort, craning your neck back to shoot her a look.

Miranda only hummed, her hands drifting to your midsection to begin tugging your blouse fabric from where it was tucked into your pants.

“Mir…” You warn, shifting away before she suddenly pulled you back to her body.

“Relax…” Miranda cooed to trail her hand over your pubis to cup your sex over your work pants. She knew exactly where to press her fingers so as to stir desire within your abdomen. Back and forth she rubbed her hand over your mound causing you to whine involuntarily. At the sound of your soft noises, Miranda whispered in your ear, “There we go…”

“Mir… We can’t…”

“Shhh…” Miranda hushed you and drew her free hand to grope your breast over your shirt. You braced yourself against the open drawer and file cabinet, trying to spread your legs the best you could to give her greatest access.

You felt yourself growing wetter and wetter at the way Miranda groped you. It was so possessive and dominant - a trait typically reserved for the confines of your bedroom.

“We should probably make quick work of this, huh?” Miranda whispered, her hand moved from your breast to wrap around your waist. She drew you backwards and sat herself on a chair, spinning you around, and guiding you to straddle her thigh. Her hands gripped your hips and she guided you in rolling your hips back and forth to grind against her.

You fell apart in her lap. Your forehead dropped onto her shoulder as the most desperate whimpers left your body. You pressed your hips harder and harder against her thigh seeking as much friction as possible to stimulate your clit.

“Let go of all that stress, beautiful.” Miranda cooed in your ear, her face nuzzling into your neck to press kisses against your throat. Her tongue gliding over your pulse point made you shiver as it coincided with a particularly intense roll of your hips, making you gasp.

Miranda’s hands gripped at your ass, but she allowed you to control the rapid pace of your grinding as you chased your peak. She tightened the muscles in her thigh and pushed it up into your cunt. You were whining and softly crying out as you jerked your hips against her thigh.

“Come on, sweetness. Come for me.”

You felt yourself choke back a sob as you knew you were close, but grinding over your clothes was a hindrance to the possibility of an orgasm.

The grinding of your hips was furious. You needed this terribly, but the orgasm alluded you. “I’m- I’m t-trying.”

You could hear your male coworkers roughhousing in the hallway. It felt so wrong that their presence outside the room made the grinding against the constable feel even better. The thrill of being caught with your girlfriend had you biting your lip and slowing your grinding to make each roll of your hips worth it.

You were happy with your change of pace as each roll of your hips made your whole body shake. You grunted with each shutter of your body. You were getting so close. Just a little bit more.

“Come on, beautiful… I know you are close.”

The way Miranda’s voice was filled with desire pushed you over the edge. Your body jerked and trembled as your orgasm washed over you. To steady yourself, you wrapped your arms around her neck and held her tight.

Only if you could have seen the delighted smirk on Miranda’s face as her hands traveled up and fingers splayed across your back. She hugged you close, resting her chin on your shoulder. “That’s a good baby.”

You giggled softly and snuggled closer to enjoy a few more moments of physical contact before you would both have to return to work.

Miranda’s grip on you loosened and she leaned back in the chair so she could look at you. “I actually came in to ask if you wanted to get dinner delivered to the station.”

“Easily distracted, hm?”

“When you are involved? Yes.”

You had to roll your eyes at the corniness of her sweet statement and lifted yourself from her lap before anyone could walk in on you. You didn’t make it far from Miranda when she stood and took your hand, pulling you back to her. She put her hand on your cheek and wrapped the other around your waist to kiss you senseless.

When she finally let you go, you were dizzy from the intensity she kissed you with.

The dazed expression on your face made Miranda giggle and squeeze your shoulders. “I’ll order your favorite, okay?”

You gaped and nodded, eyes soft as you looked up at your sweet girlfriend. Every day you couldn’t think you could love her more, but every day she proved you wrong.

Taglist: @charymobile , @bri-sonat , @weemswife , @smutuniversesblog , @opheliauniverse , @renravens , @whenyouhaveanobsession , @shyladyfan , @rubberduckiesbathing , @mcufanisme , @peanutbutterprincess , @larissaoftarthweems , @lvinhs , @myzzjolanda , @principal-weems09 , @imlike-so-gaydude , @emilynissangtr , @xuukoo , @brienneswife , @oculusalien , @sweetderacine , @giogwensversion , @milciak , @gela123 , @thevillagegay , @katiemcgrathsbitch1 , @naomi-m3ndez , @mysaviorfalsegod , @salems-spaghettios , @imgayforwoman69 , @bychrissi , @bitchr-mkay , @h-doodles , @alexusonfire , @weemssapphic

[blairkiss]

Endless passion.

Miranda Hilmarson x Reader

Female reader, 18+, Lesbian Sex, Soft dom!Miranda, Wife!Miranda, Fluff at the end

by @blairkiss .. first smut !

The first thing she does is kiss me, before we're even fully through the door. Her mouth is soft and sweet. She tastes of wine, the same wine we drank in the restaurant. She is the most beautiful woman I've ever known.

She pushes me gently back, still kissing, until my shoulders touch the wall. The door falls shut, the latch clicking softly. We stand together, kissing, breathing.

“Miranda.” I whisper into her ear. Her tongue is warm on my throat.

"My sweet wife," she whispers.

She takes my hand and leads me to our bedroom. I feel shy with her, sometimes, like a nervous virgin, although I am far from that. But there is a certain awkwardness when we undress, because she is so much more graceful than I. When I'm in her arms, though, there's nothing but pleasure.

"How do you want me?" I ask her. "How do you want it to be?"

She considers. "Lie down," she tells me. "Let me show you."

I lie back on the bed, and she joins me, propped up on her elbows over my body, I look up at her with lust and excitement. An expression of pure love to the large woman who was currently on top of my body.

"I have wanted this all day," she says.

"Yes," I say.

"You make me so wet."

I spread my legs for her, and she settles between them, she looked up at her for permission and to which I gladly put my hands in her blonde hair.

After a few moments of Miranda fiddling with my pants, she eventually takes them off, aswell as my underwear. She sticks them in her back pocket for safe keeping, as she usually collected them and would use them for her own purposes.

“yes.” I said breathlessly, my hands in her blonde hair. I can feel her breath against my inner thigh

"You taste so good," she says. She licks along the seam of my lips. She presses her tongue inside.

She's done this so many times, but she has always managed to make me feel like it's the first time. She's an expert with her tongue. She knows just how I like to be touched. Her tongue moves slowly, circling around the nub of my clitoris. Then she pulls it into her mouth, and I can't help letting out a borderline pornographic moan.

"That's right, let me hear you," she says, her breath warm against my skin. "I love to hear you."

"Yes."

She moves her tongue down to my opening, pressing inside. I arch up off the bed.

"Miranda, yes."

She returns her tongue to my clit, stroking me there, making me writhe in pleasure.

Within minutes of the similar movement from Miranda, I tug on her hair more.

“God.. Mir— I’m gonna..” I can feel it bubbling up inside me, ready to burst out and take over my body, I hold it in longer.

The way her tongue moves around the tip of my clit, her lips wrapped around me, sucking softly, her fingers moving inside, stroking, I can't hold on any longer.

"Yes, oh yes."

I come. My muscles tense, I arch off the bed, my eyes squeezed shut. Pleasure radiates out from my center, through my hips, thighs, chest.

Miranda pulls away, seeming proud of making me feel this way, her eyes watching over me as I basked in the aftershock.

"That was good," she says.

I can't quite speak yet, so I smile.

She climbs back on top of me and kisses me. She slides her tongue inside, letting me taste myself.

"Mmm," I murmur.

She sits up and straddles my thigh.

“I’m exhausted.” I sigh, my hands weakly grabbing Miranda’s hips.

"Then we should get some sleep," she says. She rolls off and pulls the covers over both of us.

We are quiet, lying there, and the silence is a comfort. It's enough, to be next to her. To share her space, her time.

I roll onto my side, and she scoots over so we're pressed close together, her breasts against my chest, her face buried in the crook of my neck. I can feel her warm breath against my skin.

"I love you," she whispers.

"I love you too."

I fall asleep like that, curled up against her, her strong arm wrapped around my waist.

[milfsloverblog]

I hate having to do this but I also hate having my work copied, so.

First pic is from my Friday Nights fic I posted on July 23rd, second is the snippet they shared yesterday of the fanfic they’re currently writing.

Same character, almost exactly word for word the same sentence, same structure etc etc.

If you’re going to share a snippet of “your” fanfic and it’s a straight copy/paste from someone else’s work, you should probably have the intellectual lucidity to block that writer so they don’t stumble on it.

Most of us here don’t do this professionally, we don’t get paid for writing stories. We do it because we’re passionate, wether it’s about writing in general or passionate about Gwen and her characters. I (we) spend hours working on these stories, and it’s not for some random “creative writer” (might want to take that off your bio) to come and just steal our hard work thinking no one’s gonna notice.

Drawing inspiration from other works you’ve read is a normal thing to do. We all find inspiration in books we read, movies/shows we watch, and even other fics writers’ work. Inspiration, though, that’s the keyword. Copy pasting is not drawing inspiration.

As a graphic design graduate, I’ve had countless hours of classes about plagiarism, I think it’s enough to know that changing “silently” to “slightly” and adding a couple words doesn’t make this not plagiarism (“slightly requesting” doesn’t make any sense here, btw). I’m afraid you picked the wrong gal to do this to.

I don’t like confrontation but I think it sometimes is necessary. I decided to do this publicly firstly because since you had the confidence to share “your” snippet, I believe you should have the confidence to deal with the consequences AND because I want other writers to know, in case they’d possibly find some of their work in “yours”.

@spiideywebs do better, it will only make you feel prouder.

edit: I was not aware that this person was a minor before writing this post, it was added to their bio afterwards. I have “Minors stay away” written in bold on my profile. I don’t feel comfortable with kids reading my nsfw fics (or copying them). Y’all can’t respect people’s boundaries. DO BETTER.

[agathaandbrienneslesbian]

Hearts of Justice

Miranda Hilmarson x Secretary!Reader

Hello everyone and happy new year to you all <3 I am back with a new mini-fic.

Decided to make a lil illustration for the fic :3

Reminder that I have a Taglist now so make sure to use it <3

Also big thanks to @weemssapphicfor beta reading this piece <3

Disclaimer: English is not my first language!

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Kissies, Love confessions

A/N: Y/N is a secretary at the police station where Miranda works. But what happens when y/n has to console Miranda after a rather rough breakup?

Words: 2'100+

AO3 Link

Taglist

-----

You have been working at the station for about two years now. 

When you first started, Miranda Hilmarson had been the only friendly face there. The two of you immediately became best friends, spending your breaks and sometimes even free time together. 

Technically, you weren’t a Constable, like Miranda. No, you worked as the station's secretary. You supposed this might have been the reason why they didn’t necessarily welcome you. 

Of course, you have been the topic of many bets and pranks, especially from your male coworkers. You never understood the allure of such childish things but… when you were with Miranda, childish things seemed to just make sense. Listening to her gush about her favourite show or how passionate she was about her work, despite being picked on herself, was the highlight of your day. You supposed that’s why the two of you got along so well. Miranda and you shared the same struggles. Even though the both of you didn’t necessarily have a good connection to your coworkers, you still made it through the day with the help of each other. 

A few months ago, you noticed how your affection towards the blonde Constable has changed. It has… intensified. And, of course, it had to happen right when that stupid Adrian dumped her. You never understood what she saw in him… he was a liar, a cheat, didn’t treat her right. It made your blood boil. Seeing her be so hopeful when you knew all he would do was make her cry, break her… it made you so unbelievably angry. And when the inevitable happened, and he dropped her, you were there. You caught her in your arms, cradled her gently and whispered apologies and soft affirmations as she sobbed in your arms on the couch of your flat. 

“He didn’t deserve you”, “I am so sorry he did this to you”, “You deserve better, Mir”, “I will not leave your side. I promise”, “Never again will I let anyone hurt you like this”

It took you a good hour to have her relax in your arms. Still, you didn’t move. This is when it hit you. This exact, stupid moment was when it hit you. How much you actually admired her. How much you cared for her… how much you loved her. It hit you like a brick, square in the face, and your heart sank. You were in love with her. You couldn’t tell her… never… you were her best friend after all, and you certainly didn’t want her to think you used her in her most vulnerable state, so… you stayed quiet. 

For days

For weeks 

For months

Half a year has passed since that fateful night, and it simply got more and more difficult to hold back your emotions, your feelings, your affections. So, you started distancing yourself. Small things at first like your lunch break, the hours you worked. 

In the end, you only saw her at the station, walking in and out. You have completely detached yourself from her and it… hurt. But you couldn’t tell her… could you? She wouldn’t understand… 

It took all your strength to deny her once more when she asked you, with a hopeful glimmer in her eyes, if you wanted to join her for a beer after work. You hated the defeated look on her face as you declined, coming up with yet another excuse. But this time… something was... different. 

You could swear you saw tears. Miranda was… truly upset. This wasn’t your intention, this wasn’t what you wanted… before you could stop her or say something else, tell her you changed your mind, she walked off. Strong and long legs taking her down the halls and out the door. With a defeated sigh and tears burning in your eyes, you leaned back. That’s it… you’ve done it… Miranda probably hated you now.

“I would go after her if I were you…”

A strong voice spoke from behind, and you jumped, not expecting to be ambushed like that. You quickly turned in your chair to see the small detective standing behind you. A frown laid itself on your face as you looked at her questioningly.

“I- what?”

“Oh, you heard me.”

You looked at the brunette, then turned your face to the exit. Maybe… with a quick move, you stood, making your way out. Robin was right. You couldn’t let this be. You wouldn’t be the reason why Miranda cried. Never. You promised her. 

Panting heavily, you finally caught up with the blonde who sat on a bench outside, frantically smoking a cigarette and wiping tears away. The sight broke your heart.

“Mir…”

You said softly, watching as she jumped and her eyes widened. She turned her head away and quickly wiped away her tears.

“Yeah… yeah?”

You took a deep breath and sat down next to her, just looking at her, unsure about what to do. You took a deep breath and pulled her into a hug. She quickly wrapped her arms around you, hiding her face in your neck. You could physically feel her relax in your arms, and it made your heart constrict.

“I’m sorry… I would love to go have a beer with you tonight.”

You spoke softly, running your fingers through her hair. Gods, you missed being this close to her. 

“Really…?”

The blonde asked quietly. With a deep breath and a nod, you pulled her even closer.

“Yes, really.”

You whispered and let go of her. Miranda let go reluctantly and smiled at you, but the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Wanna… meet at my place?” she asked softly and you nodded. Taking her hands and squeezing them gently. Miranda’s cigarette now on the floor, forgotten by the two of you. Her smile brightened a bit and she nodded.

“Then I’ll have some beers cold and ready when you arrive.”

“That sounds wonderful!”

—

The rest of the day had been strangely uneventful, besides the growing worry and fear of what tonight might bring for you. You almost lost your cool this afternoon, wanting to press sweet kisses to her head and face. But you held yourself back. Miranda wasn’t interested in you like that… 

After work, you quickly rushed home, took a shower and changed into something a bit less formal and more comfortable. You styled your hair and added just a smidge of makeup. Not too much. With one final look in the mirror, you quickly made your way over to Miranda’s place. Standing in front of the door, your nerves started getting the better of you. You can’t do this… this is gonna be too much for you. Before you could decide if you wanted to leave or not, the door in front of you opened. 

“Ah, I thought I had heard something!”

Miranda smiled down at you and stepped aside for you to enter. With a shy smile, you stepped into her flat. It had been weeks since you’d last been here. It smelled like her and you felt slightly dizzy. After taking off your shoes and sitting down on her couch, Miranda quickly followed with two beers, handing you one. 

“I’m glad you’re here. I started to miss your presence.” she said softly and blushed, quickly taking a swig from her beer. You did the same, trying to suppress your blush. She missed you… 

“You’ve been very busy lately… what had you so occupied? Maybe a special someone?”  She asked softly, wiggling with her eyebrows but the way she asked the question… something seemed off.

“Wha- no! Well… not really… not like you think… I’m not…”

A bright blush crept onto your face, and you quickly took another big sip of your beer. Gods, you wouldn’t survive this. Miranda watched you closely, a sad frown on her face.

“Then… why were you avoiding me..?”

The pain you felt in your heart almost made you double over. This is never what you wanted. You never wanted to hurt her. With a sigh, you set the beer down and started fiddling with your fingers.

“It’s not… easy..”

“Tell me! Please! Have… have I done something wrong?”

“No…”

“Have… have I hurt you? Have I been a bad friend? Y/n please! I must know. What have I done to you? Have I said something that upset you or-“

“NO! No… Miranda… no, you could never…”

You sighed. You couldn’t tell her… 

Looking up you saw her face, pain, fear, worry, sadness. You- you just had yelled at her…

“Oh gods, Miranda, I am so sorry I… I didn’t-“

“No it’s.. It’s okay…”

She spoke softly and set her beer down. She was about to get off the couch, but you grabbed her wrist, holding her in place. You had to tell her. You couldn’t see her so upset any more, it was too painful. The blonde’s icy blues looked at you, confusion written on her face as she waited for you to proceed.

“Miranda I- the reason why I was so distant… I don’t know how to tell you.”

You took a deep breath. Miranda had moved your grip, holding your hand now. Her thumb softly rubbing over your knuckles, trying to help you feel calm. It just made you even more nervous. She cared so much. 

“The reason why I was so distant was… I am in love with you.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for an answer but when none came you pulled your hand from her grip and covered your face.

“I- I have realised that I felt this way the day that asshole broke up with you… it hit me like a brick and… I didn’t want to tell you. You were so broken… you needed a friend not… that. I-I couldn’t be around you any more because it was just eating me up from the inside every time we spent time together. I had to distance myself because I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable… I didn’t want to- to take advantage of you I- I care too much… Miranda, I love you…”

Silence. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes but if you had looked up you would have seen Miranda's face. A bright blush had covered her face, ears and chest, eyes wide, staring at you with hope, with longing, with unspoken emotions. You loved her. She could be loved, someone, you really loved her. 

“I-I’m sorry… I’ll see myself out, please just forget-“

“No…”

You turned to look at her, taking in her features. She was… smiling. Not in a ‘making fun of you’ type of way, no, a genuine smile. Miranda moved closer, wrapping her arms around you and pulling you close, running her fingers through your hair as she pulled you against her body. Instinctively, your arms wrapped around the strong blonde, falling into her embrace, her scent, her soft breaths against your shoulder, falling into her. 

“Y-you’re not mad? Uncomfortable? Disgusted?”

Miranda pulled away to cup your face, wiping a tear from your cheek as she looked into your eyes.

“I could never. I love you too much.”

She whispered, smiling softly down at you. Your eyes widened. She… loved you?

“Miranda I-“

“Can I kiss you?”

You looked into her eyes, her icy blue orbs reflecting nothing but love, care and hope. You nodded, cupping her cheeks and gently tucking some hair behind her ear.

“Please!”

She leaned in, you felt her warm breath on your skin and then her soft, warm lips against yours. It was a perfect fit. Like the last piece in a puzzle. She completed you and in that moment all of your worries flew out the window. Miranda was gentle and careful. Her lips moved against yours with soft movements, and she made sure to hold you as if you were about to fall apart. She held you, she protected you. 

After a minute or two, she pulled away and smiled softly at you, pressing a gentle peck to your forehead. You smiled and closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of her soft, warm lips against your forehead. You belonged here. In her arms, in her embrace. 

“After that night… I started realising how much you actually mean to me. Of course, it took a while for me to realise that what I felt for you was more than friendship. When you started distancing yourself, I was afraid… I thought you noticed. That I- somehow had shown too much, said too much… scared you off…” Miranda admitted and stroked your cheek gently. Keeping eye contact with you. You pressed a quick peck to her lips and the palm of her hand.

“You could never. I love you, Miranda.”

The blonde Constable smiled and pulled you into another embrace, leaning back against the couch and having you snuggle into her arms. Where you belonged.

“I wouldn’t want to be loved by anyone but you.”

-----

Taglist: @erinyaya @phexyce @aemilia19 @weemssapphic @gela123 @winterfireblond @Xxmecverxx @unicorniusfallapatorious @gwenistheloml @yourgaeyisshowing

As always, Likes, Comments and Reblogs are welcome <3

[marilynthornhilllover]

KINKTOBER FIC: #1

Miranda hilmarson x fem!criminal reader

Everybody knows that I'm a good girl officer, I wouldn't do a thing like that.

Warning: smut, criminal activities, fingering, spanking, teasing, begging, foreplay, nipple sucking, mommy kink, use of pet names, hickeys etc.

The door to your apartment slammed shut, jolting you awake from your doze. Your head flew around to the area of which the sound came from where you found your fiance standing at the door with her hands on her hips. She looked like she was about to explode with anger. You couldn't help the sly smirk that took its place across your glossed lips.

" baby! your home early!" You squealed in a innocent tone as you got up from the couch and into the kitchen, but you were far from innocent, you were very guilty. Miranda's eyes flared as she took in your form. A fluffy Plush baby pink robe wrapped around your body. Even though the clothing was big, it defined your curves very well, miranda found herself getting enchanted by you. Everytime she found herself angry at you, you'd always find a way to push her away from the current situation.

Miranda's eyes ramed up your body and flicked back up to your eyes. They darkened as she saw the smirk still evident on your face. She made a low growl before coming towards you.

" baby did you have a bad day? perhaps-" before you could finish your sentence she grabbed your jaw tightly and shoved you against the counter edge, making you winched in pain, as your back hit the counter with force. She didn't say anything but just looked at you, every second that passed her pupils delated. They became filled with lust and desire, they were burning with passion and need.

" don't be a brat y/n, you are well aware of what you did" her tone was low and dark, her eyes glued to your lips as she spoke. Miranda wasn't always the type to be dominant, most of the time it was you who was pleasuring her, so seeing her so buffed up like a big bad wolf and dominant, started a ragging fire within your core, making you squirm against her - something you tried to hide but Miranda was faster and noticed it.

She smirked at your tiny form before her, so vulnerable and fragile. She chuckled as she spoke up, her tone keeping it's composure.

" you've been a very bad girl for mommy huh baby?" She hummed as she pressed a soft but meaningful kiss to your lips as her hands snaked around to the front of your robe where you tied a knot with the strings. Miranda continued her assault on you as she began leaving hickeys on your neck. It's not like someone will notice, your her stay at home wife, and when you do go out in public everyone will know that your hers.

Miranda softly bite down on your neck as she took off your robe making it fall to the ground, making it pool around your feet.

" mir-" she shushed you, falling to her knees. She pulled down your matching pink lace underwear admiring your soft pale - well Moistured skin. She licked from your lower abdomen and back up, her tongue leaving wet trails.

" miranda please-" you were starting to feel light headed. The way she was touching you felt heavenly. It's like she an angel who came to pleasure you and only you. You moaned softly biting your knuckle as your eyes rolled back. Miranda placed one leg over her shoulder, kissing along your wet folds.

She looked up at you, seeing the beautiful sight made her chuckle, she hadn't even touched you properly yet but you were already sluting out yourself to her.

She gently pushed her tongue against your clit, erecting a whimper from you as your hand flew to her hair, the other used to hold yourself up so you don't fall.

She began gently sucking on your bud, you could feel your orgasm already building up. Your nails strached across her scalp as she moaned in response, sending the vibrations straight through your core, making you squirm.

" miranda please stop teasing- I'm a good girl" you practically moaned as your grip on the counter tightened. Miranda started flicking her tongue very fast against your clit and down through your slit, curving it everytime she got back to your soft puffy bud. She chuckled softly as her actions grew faster causing you to gasp. She could feel you getting close.

You were to sex drunk to notice that miranda was staring into your soul with meaning behind her lustful eyes. Miranda stopped and got up. Coming dangerously close to your face, her hot breath making you more horny. Before you could protest she spanked you. You let out a pornographic moan as your body jolted upwards more onto the counter top.

Your body burned with pain and pleasure as she spanked your clit again, this time more rough.

She bit her lip as she looked down at your desperate face. god you made her wanna go crazy on you. She pushed you back making you lay against the cold granite counter top as she spanked you again. You whimpered as your tried to close your legs but she was quicker, parting them instantly.

" such a slut for mommy mhm?" Spank " stealing chocolate from the candy store just to get mommy's attention?" Spank " I mean how stupid can you be? Thinking mommy wouldn't find out, I mean I am a police aren't I baby?" Spank " that's right you like whoring out yourself for me, so mommy will fuck you like the whore you are, and your gonna take it like the good girl your swear to be" spank.

Miranda left you breathless. You did steal the chocolate, but it wasn't aligned to make her angry or even to get her attention, you were just feeling hungry.... and bratty.

The way miranda talked to you, in such a dark, dominant, sultry tone made you wetter than the Atlantic Ocean. Miranda smirked as she saw how red your cheek got. She looked down and gasped. You felt her fingers move up and down your slit, collecting all your arousal. She easily slipped two fingers into your aching hole making you arch your back and shut your eyes.

" so perfect. Can't believe your mine, my love" she whispered in your ear as she kissed down your neck, leaving bright red marks for only her to see, she trailed down your chest doing the same til she got to your breast and latched herself onto one of them. It was like she was a baby. Sucking and pulled harshly on your bud. She was driving you absolutely crazy.

Meanwhile her fingers in you were taking you to heaven. They would curl each time they entered you. Her pace was fast and relentless, but also very smooth. You were so wet that the entire room was filled with the sound of her moving her fingers within you. Miranda felt as you clenched down on her fingers, making her smirk. With that she picked up her pace making you let out a brutal moan.

"Mhm fuck! Miranda p-please oh MY GOD" your eyes rolled back as she curled her fingers deep within you with the barrel motion and started hitting your g-spot so perfectly. Your toes curled as your spongy walls started closing in tighter around her long slender fingers.

" mhmh, wanna cum for me princess?" She asked leaning more over your fragile pleasure shaking body, she could see that you wanted it so bad. Sorry, needed it so bad. You nodded, tears forming on your eyes as your body became hotter. The coil in your stomach feels like it's near to explode any second. Bit first you needed permission to do so.

" fuck miranda please!" You moaned as she surprisingly picked up her pace.

" you may cum but you owe me an apology afterwards you slut" she husked, the pet name pushing your further off the edge as you came undone for her screaming her name. Miranda couldn't help but let her demeanor crumble for you. She was sure she had broken you for good. You whispered her name like a prayer as after jolts of pleasure ran through your body.

She caressed your face as you sighed as closed your legs, moaning soft at the friction. She kissed your lips softly. She chuckled as you looked at her a pouted.

" What's wrong baby? We have to return that chocolate ok? I'll get you more for Halloween night" she whispered lovingly. You scoffed and rolled your eyes and you got up. Jumping off the counter you held onto her, your wobble legs not allowing you to walk freely. Suddenly miranda picked you up bridal style and started to walk the bedroom.

" of course after the second round when you repay the favor" she said chuckling.

" no problem, this time I'll make you scream more than i" you said, she hummed as she threw you on the bed and closed the door with her leg.

" we'll see about that princess"

[weemssapphic]

Hi how are you? I hope well! so i really like your writing actually ur my fav writer here on tumblr ;). So i had this idea for a fanfic by Miranda Hilmarson x reader. It was about Miranda being a traffic cop sometimes too and then she ends up giving the reader a ticket in one day and the reader gets really mad and even fights with Miranda, and then they end up meeting again, but what Miranda didn't know was that the reader would be her new boss!! From there I leave it to you, it can even be an enemies to lovers, you know.

I just had this silly idea, maybe you'll like it and I'd be super happy if you wrote it.💗

another thing! English is not my language, I'm literally writing this through Google translator so if something seems strange to you, you already know ☠️

A/N: thank you sooo much, that is so kind of you! I really liked this request and enjoyed writing it - it's my first time writing for Miranda so I really hope it's okay <3 just gonna post this and go hide now ahhhh

not your fault

Words: ~7.4k | ao3 link in title

Content/warnings: slight enemies to lovers, mentions of Adrian Butler (ugh), reader has a temper - poor Miranda is on the receiving end, mentions of cigarettes and alcohol, employee-boss relationship, angry Miranda, but also adorable puppy Miranda, nsfw (smut) - vaginal fingering, cunnilingus

“Are you fucking kidding me…” You groaned under your breath as you snatched up the little piece of paper stuck between your windshield wipers - a parking ticket. You were already running late thanks to your cat having puked all over your carpet that morning, and thanks to the barista at the coffee shop who’d taken ages with your latte - and now you were going to be even later.

You whipped your head around, looking for the officer who’d given you the ticket. A tall, blonde woman in a police uniform was strolling down the line of parked cars, handing out tickets to each one. The officer turned as you stomped over, eyes widening as you advanced on her until you were standing right in front of her. You had to crane your neck up to look at her - in any other situation, you might have found this insanely arousing, but right now you were far too pissed.

“Care to explain this?” You waved the paper in her face - she went slightly cross-eyed as her eyes followed your movements. 

“Uh, that’s a parking ticket, ma’am.” The officer swallowed visibly, taking a step back.

“I park here every goddamn day,” you hissed.

“I’m sorry…” She seemed a bit dazed and distracted for a moment as she regarded you, her eyes darting between your own, before straightening her posture and clearing her throat. “There’s, uh, a festival downtown this weekend, they’ve closed most of the parking zones until it’s over. There’s a sign at the start of the road.” She nodded her head over to a single sign set up at the next intersection, one that you had clearly missed in your rush.

You were seething, a billion arguments ready on your tongue, but the clock was ticking - and in the end, she was right, no matter how pissed you were.

“You know what, fucking forget it. I’m already running late! Thanks for nothing.” You stomped back to your car and crumpled up the parking ticket, tossing it on the passenger seat and groaning in frustration - the officer stood rooted to the spot, watching as you drove away.

~~~

Not wanting to get a speeding ticket in addition to your parking ticket, you took your time driving to the police station for your first day on the job. You’d just moved to Sydney to replace Adrian Butler as he left his position to “focus on his marriage” - you hadn’t even started yet and had already heard rumors of his extramarital affair with a constable. Men are pigs, you thought as you strode into the station and took the elevator up to the third floor, half an hour later than you’d planned.

The room was buzzing when you walked in but as soon as you cleared your throat and made your presence known, everyone went silent.

“I’ll spare you all the usual ‘first day’ speech - you should know who I am. I’m sure we’ll all get to know each other well over the course of the coming weeks, but for now I already have my hands full with everything that Detective Sergeant Butler so generously left for me.”

Your eyes landed on an empty desk near the center of the room. “Who usually sits there? Are they out sick?”

Some of the men began to snicker - one in particular answered your question. “Oh, that’s Hilmarson.” He smirked and took a sip from his coffee mug as he leaned against the side of the copy machine.

You raised an eyebrow. “And? Where is Constable Hilmarson?”

The elevator doors opened behind you and you turned around, eyes widening as you were confronted with the tall, blonde officer who’d given you a ticket. Her own shocked expression mirrored yours.

“That’d be her.” The man - Constable Brown, you’d later come to learn - chuckled, his smirk widening.

“Constable.” You glared pointedly at Constable Hilmarson. “My office, now.”

She frowned and followed you to the small office at the side of the room. You closed the door behind her and took a seat behind your new desk, gesturing for the officer to sit. She scrambled rather clumsily towards the chair and sat down, looking like a child about to be reprimanded.

“Constable Hilmarson, is it? Miranda?” You regarded her carefully. Her cheeks were rosy with embarrassment, her eyes wide as saucers. And, God, were they blue. They were mesmerizing. Miranda bobbed her head up and down in answer to your question, a bit of her pale blonde hair falling in her eye. She raised a hand to her head, dragging long fingers through her hair to brush it back - you had to physically shake your head to stop yourself from getting distracted by her movements.

“I like to be prepared, Constable. So I was having a look at your file the other day, you see, and I was under the impression that you are currently on a homicide case with Detective Griffin. Or am I mistaken?”

“Yes - I mean, no, you’re not mistaken.” Miranda shook her head furiously. 

“Then pray tell, Constable - why on earth did you spend your morning handing out fucking parking tickets?” You couldn’t keep the venom out of your voice as you questioned Miranda - something about her was pissing you off (or maybe it was just the fact that you hadn’t even been able to drink your coffee yet), and you were having trouble reigning in your emotions.

Miranda’s face was bright red and her hands shook slightly. “I lost a bet,” she mumbled, unable to meet your gaze.

“Louder.”

She cleared her throat, her eyes locking with yours. “I lost a bet. I had to take over Constable Brown’s duties for the morning.”

You sighed, raising a hand to pinch the bridge of your nose.

“I’m not here to play games. Do you understand that?” Your voice was sickly sweet, bordering on condescension - it was not lost on Miranda, who was starting to look like she wanted to argue.

Evidently, she thought better of it at the last second, for she simply nodded as she glowered at you.

“You’re here to do your job, not Constable Brown’s job. And I expect you to do your job well. So, seeing as you’ve not only made me late, wasted your entire morning, and wasted even more of my time with this silly conversation, I would appreciate it if you could get to work. Now.”

Miranda stood abruptly, sending a stack of papers flying from your desk as she stormed from the room. You rubbed your temples, wincing at the force with which she closed the door behind her - you were already starting to develop a headache, and it wasn’t even 10 am.

~~~

As the morning went on, you found yourself growing more and more agitated, unable to focus on anything. You realized as your stomach growled for the fourth (or was it the fifth?) time that, in your rush, you’d skipped breakfast. 

The second the clock hit 12 for your lunch break, you were on your feet. You’d have to work through much of your break to catch up, but you could afford to take a few minutes to grab a coffee and a granola bar from the vending machines in the lobby.

Passing by Miranda’s desk, you noticed that her chair was empty - the sight made your blood boil. You took a deep breath to calm yourself down - it was her lunch break, too, and she had every right to leave her desk during that time. Her messy, cluttered desk… You clenched your fists and headed for the elevator.

That wasn’t the only time her desk was empty, however. Throughout the afternoon, you would look up from your paperwork (you found that Adrian had been terrible at properly filing paperwork, making your job that much harder) every so often - and more times than not, the constable was nowhere in sight. With a frustrated sigh, you stood and strode over to open the window - you desperately needed the fresh air if you were going to make it home without strangling someone.

The sight of Miranda smoking a cigarette in the alley next to the station, just under your window, had you clenching your jaw, nostrils flaring. You couldn’t help yourself - you immediately headed towards the elevator and took rapid steps out of the station, rounding the corner and advancing on the constable, whose back was turned to you.

“Hilmarson!” you barked - Miranda flinched as she turned to face you.

“What did I do now? Am I not allowed to smoke or something?” She sounded agitated, and that made you even angrier.

“This is your fourth smoke break in the past two hours alone. If your habits are going to get in the way of your job, then I suggest you-”

“You know, you’re really stressing me out!” Miranda yelled back, gesticulating wildly as she spoke. “I’ll do my damned job, okay? You’re just really not making it easy.”

You laughed - it was hollow and sarcastic - and took a step closer to Miranda. Your face was inches away from hers now - this close, your eyes were drawn to her lips, soft and plush, trembling slightly with anger. A little scar adorned her top lip and your gaze lingered there for a moment, arousal pooling in your core - until Miranda brought the cigarette back to her mouth to take a drag.

Torn from your trance, you plucked it from her grip and dropped it to the ground, crushing it with your boot.

“Talk to me like that again and I’m sending you home for the rest of the day. Now get back upstairs.”

Miranda pushed roughly past you, her shoulder bumping into yours as she headed back into the station. You leaned against the wall and let out a loud groan, your eyes fluttering shut. Why was Miranda determined to make your day as difficult as humanly possible? 

With a heavy sigh, you opened your eyes and pushed off the wall, following the constable back inside.

~~~

Your second day on the job started out significantly better than your first. You managed to eat breakfast, get coffee, and make it to work on time, all without getting a parking ticket or arguing with a certain constable. Miranda had been at her desk when you’d walked past it and, mercifully, hadn’t said a word to you - though you could feel her eyes on you as you disappeared into your office.

When you left your office for your lunch break, you found the main office empty - you figured most of your officers were taking their lunch break as well. You strode over to the little kitchen, reaching for the handle when the door swung open in your face - your body colliding with a much taller one. You heard a gasp above you and looked up to see Miranda standing directly in front of you, eyes wide, mouth hanging open in shock.

It was then that you realized your shirt suddenly felt a bit wet - your eyes fell to the half-empty bowl in Miranda’s hand, then to your torso, which was covered in milk and little pieces of cereal.

“Oh you have got to be kidding me,” you growled, pushing past Miranda and ignoring the apologies that poured profusely from her mouth. You grabbed a fistful of paper towels and dabbed at your shirt, quickly realizing that it was no use - you’d have to get changed.

You spun around when you felt a hand on your arm, glaring up at Miranda who looked down at you apprehensively. At your furious expression, she pulled her hand away as if burned. “Do you need help?”

Sighing, you closed your eyes and attempted to reign in your temper. “No,” you grit out. “It’s fine, you’ve done enough. I just have to go home to get changed, I guess.”

“Well if you don’t have a shirt with you then you can borrow mine?”

Your eyes flew open, meeting Miranda’s soft gaze before flickering down to her torso. “W-what?”

“I mean, I have an extra shirt in my locker.” Miranda gestured back towards the elevator with her thumb, a faint smirk playing upon her lips - the fact that you had just basically ogled her chest was not lost on her, apparently.

You could feel your cheeks turn red and you looked down at your own shirt, clinging to your chest - it had turned slightly see-through, and you could see your bra through the thin fabric. The drive home would cost you your entire lunch break, and Miranda did owe you for this… You sighed heavily.

“Yeah, sure.”

Miranda smiled, her eyes lighting up and crinkling at the outer corners - it was the first time you’d seen her properly smile, and it was beautiful. She crossed the kitchen and peered out the door into the office.

“The coast is clear,” she said with a grin, gesturing for you to follow her. You rolled your eyes and the two of you headed down to the empty locker rooms.

“I always bring something to change into after work,” Miranda supplied as she busied herself with opening her locker. “It might be a bit big on you but at least nobody will be able to see your bra.”

You started to unbutton your shirt, feeling Miranda’s eyes on you as you did so. It was hard to focus with the constable in such close proximity - you struggled with the buttons as you found yourself growing more and more flustered.

“Here, let me help,” she murmured, and before you could stop her, her hands were on the buttons of your shirt. Her fingers brushed against the swell of your chest, just above the fabric of your bra, and you shivered visibly, your mouth going dry.

“T-thanks but I got it,” you mumbled, gently pushing Miranda’s hand away. “Could you turn around?”

Miranda furrowed her brow, her face flushing. “Oh, sorry!” She placed a baby blue t-shirt on the bench next to you, then turned and studied the bare wall with great interest as you got changed.

“You can turn around again,” you said, clearing your throat. Miranda did as she was told, her eyes getting stuck on your chest for a moment before meeting your gaze. Your anger had all but dissipated, replaced with an unfamiliar and somewhat unsettling tension as you looked at Miranda, your stomach flipping.

“Uh, thanks,” you whispered. “For the shirt.”

Miranda’s lips curled up into a smile. “Yeah, of course. You know, I’m really excited to have another woman on the force. Last night I was looking into your case in Auckland before you got promoted - I talked to Robin about it, even she was impressed.”

For once, you were left speechless. For all the crap you’d given Miranda since meeting her, she seemed so genuine and excited to be speaking with you in that moment - you could feel yourself get flustered again, and all you could do was nod your head as she spoke.

“Oh, my lunch break is over so I have to go meet Robin but, uh, I’ll see you later, yeah?”

You nodded absentmindedly, stuck on the way Miranda’s hands moved as she spoke and the brightness of her eyes. She shot you one last grin before turning and taking long strides out of the locker rooms, leaving you to stand there in a daze, holding your wet shirt.

~~~

It was finally Friday and you’d been invited to go to the bar for drinks after work to celebrate the end of your first week - you stood in the lobby of the station, waiting for Robin to join your group before heading out. 

Since the little cereal incident, you were trying to actively avoid thinking about, looking at, or talking to Miranda, but she was making that damned near impossible. When you’d returned her shirt back to her, freshly washed, she made sure to allow her fingers to brush against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. She wasn’t at her desk much throughout the day, off investigating leads with Robin, and for that you were grateful - but every time you saw her desk, littered with empty takeout containers, paperwork, coffee mugs, you felt a twinge of annoyance, followed by a sinking feeling of guilt that you couldn’t quite place. As a result, you spent much more time than you wanted sitting at your desk, dissecting your feelings for the blonde but coming up empty.

The door to the station opened and a civilian walked in with a small goldendoodle on a leash. A gasp sounded to your right and you couldn’t help yourself - your eyes followed the sound just in time to see Miranda crouch down and extend her arms towards the dog, which jumped excitedly up at her, trying to lick her face. 

You couldn’t tell who was more excited about the interaction - Miranda, or the dog. The blonde was letting out little squeals of delight, cooing at the dog as she buried her fingers in its fur.

“Pull yourself together, Constable,” you grumbled, annoyed mostly at yourself for the way your stomach was reacting to the sight of Miranda cuddling the dog. It was childish and unprofessional… You most definitely did not think it was cute. Not even a little bit, no… You blushed and looked away as Miranda stood up, missing the look of disappointment in her puppy-like eyes.

After that, though, you found you couldn’t even enjoy getting drinks with your colleagues - your mind was going in circles and you were unable to shake off this weird feeling in the pit of your stomach. You sat at a booth near the back of the bar, nursing a beer as everyone around you joked around and slowly got drunk. 

You couldn’t keep your gaze from wandering towards Miranda, who was seated at the opposite end of the table. She sipped her beer, smiling occasionally at something one of the others said - your eyes, once again, got stuck on her smile. The upward quirk of her lips, the subtle scrunch of her nose, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. When she caught you staring, however, she quickly looked away, the smile sliding right off her face.

It affected you more than you would care to let on - as soon as her smile was gone, you wished for it back - desperately. And it was stupid, really - she’d somehow managed to sour your mood every single day this week, and yet your body was reacting to her in ways you hadn’t felt in a long time. With a sigh, you drained your beer and ordered a second one - this was going to be a long night.

~~~

If you’d thought your second week on the job would start better than the first, well - you’d quickly find out just how wrong you were.

Monday morning started like any other - you strode into the office with your coffee to-go cup, passing by Miranda’s empty desk. There was a half-empty bowl of cereal at the edge, stacks of manila folders and paperwork strewn over the surface, an empty, crumpled paper bag from the local bakery that had been tossed unceremoniously onto the computer keyboard. It stirred up a twinge of annoyance in you, but you tried your best to shake off the feeling.

Looking up and seeing the blonde standing at the coffee machine in the kitchen, you quickly averted your gaze and hurried to your office.

Your mind began to wander as you answered your emails and a flash of blonde through the window in your office caught your eye. Miranda walked back to her seat, a mug in her hand. She reached her desk and distractedly looked up, talking enthusiastically with Robin as she placed the mug down on a teetering pile of papers.

You looked on in horror as the pile slowly toppled over, spilling coffee all over her desk - you couldn’t bear to watch anymore, dropping your head into your hands in frustration as you heard Miranda let out a gasp.

Not my problem, you thought, trying to take steadying breaths. It wasn’t your desk that she’d spilled her coffee on, after all. 

You stood and made your way to your office door, calling out for Robin.

“Yeah?”

“Did you manage to get a copy of the autopsy results already? I really need them.”

Robin shifted slightly from foot to foot, a frown growing on her face - you really didn’t like the look of that.

“Actually, I sent Miranda to get them this morning.”

Raising an eyebrow, you looked past Robin at her colleague, who was frantically wiping up the spilled coffee from her desk. “Hilmarson, can I get those autopsy results?”

Miranda looked up, freezing in her movements. Her eyes darted between you and her desk and her cheeks were rapidly turning pink. “They, uh… Got a bit soggy.” She strode over to you with a piece of paper in her hand. You took it gingerly, a look of disgust forming on your face as the entire thing was brown and dripping wet.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” you growled. Miranda shrugged sheepishly and muttered out an apology - you glared at her in return. “I need you to get me a fresh copy by this afternoon.”

Miranda opened her mouth to speak but you interrupted her, balling your hand into a fist and crumpling up the paper, tossing it on her desk. “And tidy your fucking desk like a grown up,” you snarled.

Miranda’s face was red as she turned sharply on her heel and stormed out of the office, taking large strides towards the elevators and disappearing from view. 

“She grows on you,” Robin supplied quietly, watching you watch Miranda. You snorted.

“I doubt it.” Your stomach churned uncomfortably even as you said those words. Why did this woman have such an effect on you?

“She’s been having a rough time, ever since the breakup with Adrian.” Your eyes widened at this piece of information - you’d known about Adrian’s affair, of course, but you’d never thought it would be with Miranda. “They were going to have a baby together, you know.”

You coughed, choking on your own saliva. “They what?” You couldn’t picture Miranda as a mother - she was far too clumsy and chaotic… and goofy. And generous. Okay, maybe you could picture it, a little bit. Your stomach churned uncomfortably - you didn’t know the details of the affair, but breakups were rough - you’d moved across the country after your last breakup. You suddenly felt ashamed for being such a bitch to her. 

“Yeah, well…” You cleared your throat awkwardly. “I have a lot of work to do, so if you don’t mind…” You forced a smile and Robin raised her eyebrows, nodding and leaving you be. You tried to focus after that but you couldn’t, your mind wandering quite insistently to a certain constable. Guilt began to gnaw at your insides after having been so harsh with her. You’d have to - you wanted to - apologize for your behavior.

You locked yourself in your office and finished replying to your emails. Even half an hour later, Miranda was still not at her desk - nor was she in the kitchen, the locker rooms, or the alley under your window. You finally found her behind the station, looking out over the water and smoking a cigarette. 

“Hey,” you called, your heart clenching when you saw Miranda flinch as she turned to face you.

“Oh fuck. Look, I’m sorry, okay, I-”

“I’m the one who should apologize. Robin told me it was you.”

Miranda’s face scrunched up in confusion. She dropped her cigarette and took a step towards you. “Sorry?”

“You know, with Adrian.”

Recognition flooded Miranda’s features and she dropped her gaze to the pavement. “Oh.” She let out a hollow chuckle and turned again, walking towards the water and lowering herself to sit at the edge. You followed and took a seat next to her, leaving a healthy distance between the two of you. 

“Men are pigs, you know?” Miranda said after a moment’s silence. A loud snort escaped your lips, causing Miranda to laugh - you hadn’t heard her laugh so freely before, but it made your heart soar and you thought it might be your new favorite sound in the world. It wasn’t quite melodic, not necessarily akin to birdsong - it was loud and unabashed and very Miranda, and for some reason you found you really liked that. You couldn’t help but laugh, too.

“You’re alright, you know that, Hilmarson?” you said with a grin, gently bumping your shoulder into hers. Miranda’s laughter slowly died out but the smile remained on her face, accompanied by a faint blush.

“Thanks. You are, too.”

~~~

“Hilmarson.” You slung your jacket over your shoulder as you strode past Miranda’s desk the following day around noon. Her eyes grew wide and she dropped the pen she was holding, straightening her posture. “Come with me.”

Miranda scrambled to get up, slipping her phone into her pocket and following you to the elevators and out of the building. 

“Where are we going?” she asked, confusion evident in her tone as she scurried after you. You bypassed the parking lot, heading down the street instead.

“You’ll see,” you said with a smirk, wordlessly offering Miranda a cigarette. She fumbled around in her pocket for a lighter but you were quicker, holding up your own. “Hold still,” you murmured, holding the lighter up to her cigarette and lighting it for her, your eyes catching on the way her long, slender fingers held it, as if it were a delicate thing. 

Your destination was a nearby coffee shop, and you held the door open for Miranda to step through. “After you,” you purred, smirking at Miranda’s wide eyes. After a moment’s hesitation, she scrambled into the cafe, waiting awkwardly for you at the counter.

“It’s on me,” you said before ordering yourself a latte and a sandwich. “Get anything you like.”

Minutes later, you were sitting together at a little table in the corner.

“Look,” you started with a sigh. Miranda tilted her head. “Can we start over? I haven’t exactly been fair to you. You aren’t the reason I was late last week. I was angry and took it out on you, and that was really shitty of me.”

“I did spill cereal all over your shirt, though,” Miranda murmured with a sheepish grin, her cheeks turning adorably rosy.

“Yeah. Yeah, you did,” you said with a laugh. “That’s not the point, though. You’re too good to let yourself get walked all over, you know that?”

Miranda shrugged, unable to fully meet your gaze and focusing instead on her panini, out of which she took a huge bite.

“Not by me, not by Constable Brown, not by Adrian - you’re a solid officer and you have potential, you just need to stand your ground more.”

“Oh god,” Miranda spoke through a full mouth, her voice slightly garbled, her eyes wide. “Is this a performance review or something?”

You laughed, your stomach flipping as her blush deepened. “No. I just…” You hesitated, biting your lip and looking away. I just really like you. “I just wanted to apologize. I want us to work together, not against each other.”

“Really?” Miranda grinned, her eyes sparkling - the hope written across her face nearly made your heart stop, and you nodded. “I was so scared when I found out you were my new boss. I really thought you hated me.”

“I did, too,” you said with a laugh. “But… for the record, I don’t. I hope you don’t hate me.” 

Miranda’s cheeks puffed out as she chewed and she smiled widely. “I don’t.”

~~~

Ever since your lunch “date”, your feelings for Miranda were only growing. Your heart skipped a beat when you caught sight of her at the station, your stomach fluttered when you heard her voice. You even found yourself timing your smoke breaks with hers, just so you would have an excuse to chat with her and bask in her presence.

The following Friday at the bar, Miranda chose to sit down next to you. She placed a beer in front of you and offered you a wide smile - you felt your face flush as you muttered out an uncharacteristically shy “thank you”.

The two of you listened to your colleagues talk and banter - or rather, perhaps Miranda was listening, but you definitely weren’t. You were far too focused on the constable and your close proximity to one another; the way her shoulder bumped yours every so often, the way her hand flexed around her beer bottle, the way her throat bobbed whenever she took a sip.

Miranda laughed, throwing her head back, her shoulders shaking. She looked to the side, meeting your gaze - you couldn’t help but grin giddily back at her, chuckling a bit, and you could see her cheeks turn red as she returned your grin. 

After your third beer, you started to feel a little daring - you placed your hand gingerly on her thigh, your touch feather light as you were afraid of crossing a line. To your surprise, Miranda placed her own hand on top of yours - it was warm and soft and large, and you could feel your pulse pick up as her long fingers curled slightly around yours. When you dared to steal a glance in her direction, you could see a soft smile playing upon her lips.

~~~

“Hey.” A low voice coming from the doorway to your office caused you to look up from your laptop. A smile involuntarily spread across your face seeing Miranda leaning awkwardly against the doorframe, her hands clasped behind her back.

“Hi,” you replied - Miranda hadn’t come into your office proactively since you’d started working at the station, but you supposed a lot had changed in the past few days. “Do you need something?”

Miranda shook her head. “No, I, uh, I actually wanted to ask if you’d want to come over to my place for a beer or something tonight?”

“Oh.” A swarm of butterflies erupted in your stomach at the prospect of spending one-on-one time with the blonde - who was looking increasingly like she was about to throw up, the longer you took to reply. “Yeah, yes, I would love to.”

Miranda’s eyes widened. “Okay, great. I’ll send you my address. How’s 7?”

“7 is perfect,” you said with a growing blush, chuckling as Miranda rushed back to her desk to grab her phone - your own phone pinged with a text moments later: an address.

~~~

You showed up promptly at 7, your heart pounding fiercely against your ribcage as you knocked on the door to Miranda’s apartment.

The door swung open to reveal the tall blonde, wearing the blue shirt she’d loaned you after spilling cereal all over you, as well as a pair of shorts. 

“Blue is definitely your color,” you said before you could stop yourself. It really was, though - it brought out the blues of her eyes, making them shine and sparkle against her pale skin. 

“Thank you,” Miranda said with a laidback grin, gesturing for you to enter her apartment. It surprised you to see that it wasn’t as messy as you’d have assumed it to be - it was definitely lived in, but it was clean and had very home-y vibes. More than anything, the first thing you noticed was the smell. It smelled like Miranda - light and clean, but with the faint scent of cigarettes clinging to the air. Her shirt had smelled like that, too, when you’d borrowed it, and though you never would have admitted it back then, you’d buried your nose in the fabric more than once before begrudgingly washing and returning it.

Miranda offered you a beer and guided you to her living room, settling on the couch and motioning for you to join her. The couch was relatively small and though you tried to leave some space between you, your knee ended up pressing lightly against Miranda’s thigh.

Despite your nerves, it somehow felt right to be in her space. You felt as though you were able to see a whole new side to Miranda - a side that you really liked. As the two of you engaged in some timid small-talk, you couldn’t help but wonder why she’d invited you - you hoped it was for the same reason that you’d said yes.

“God, I was so nervous to ask you to come over,” Miranda said with a cackle, shaking her head at herself before taking a swig of her beer.

“Were you?” The thought amused you greatly, and it gave you a shot of confidence. You dropped your voice an octave and leaned forward. “Do I make you nervous?”

Miranda looked like a deer caught in headlights, her eyes widening. Your eyes flicked briefly to her lips, to her wet, pink tongue darting out to lick them, and you found yourself leaning even closer. 

“What would you do if I kissed you right now?” you murmured, scanning Miranda’s face for any sign of discomfort. Miranda’s pupils dilated and her lips parted slightly.

“I would kiss you back,” she whispered, her gaze landing on your lips.

“Yeah?” you whispered back with a smile. Miranda nodded slowly.

“Uh-huh.” 

You closed the gap, your lips meeting hers - she tasted like beer and cigarettes, and her lips were impossibly soft. She kissed you back eagerly, whimpering a little as your tongue darted out over her lower lip.

You pulled back, your cheeks covered in a light blush.

“I’m sorry, I hope that wasn’t-” you started, but Miranda interrupted you with a second kiss, this one deeper and hungrier than the first as her hands grabbed your cheeks, holding you in place. Her tongue licked greedily at the seam of your lips, which you immediately parted for her. You let out a deep groan as her tongue slipped into your mouth, dancing with yours in near-desperation.

“You taste so good,” Miranda moaned, her voice low and sultry, and desire pooled in your core.

“Mmmh,” was all you could reply as your hands gripped at Miranda’s waist and you swung your leg over her lap to straddle her. Her hands slid down to your waist, then your hips, then came to rest on top of your thighs. She gave them a squeeze and you found yourself involuntarily grinding your pelvis into her lap, her touch sending your body into overdrive.

“Oh, fuck,” you whispered, Miranda swallowing your words as your bodies pressed against each other, a steady and suffocating heat building between the two of you.

The constable’s hands slipped under your ass and she turned you onto your back - breaking the kiss only briefly to position herself above you. One of her knees came to rest between your legs and she pushed it against your core, drawing a groan from your throat. The pressure was delicious against your aching sex and you bucked your hips to get some much-needed relief.

Miranda’s lips left your own and began to trail down your chin, your throat, your chest, stopping at the top button of your shirt - hot, wet, needy. She lifted her head and you looked down to meet her gaze - her pupils were blown wide with lust, her cheeks gorgeously flushed, her hair tousled.

“We- fuck,” you started breathily, finding it almost impossible to think as Miranda’s knee pressed against your clit. “We should slow down.”

Miranda nodded, her eyes widening and her cheeks bright red as she reluctantly pulled her leg away from your cunt. You bit down on your lower lip to stop a whine from slipping out at the loss of friction.

The constable settled half on top of you, leaning against the back of the couch and propping her head up on her arm. She closed her eyes as she tried to steady her heavy, ragged breathing. “Right. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you whispered, your voice hoarse with want. “I just don’t want to take advantage of you.”

Miranda’s eyes snapped open and she met your gaze, a slow, easy grin spreading across her face. “You’re not. I want this.”

“I don’t think I just want this,” you mumbled, closing your eyes and swallowing hard. “I want you.” 

“I want you, too.”

You opened your eyes and met Miranda’s bright, eager gaze, searching her face for any hint of doubt or hesitation. “Are you sure?”

Miranda nodded and you lunged forward, your lips crashing into hers as your hand snaked its way around the back of her head, holding her in place. Your fingers threaded through her hair - it felt like silk under your skin.

Your other hand settled on her waist, tugging her on top of you - her body weight pressed you down into the couch and you groaned at the feeling. You needed more, you wanted more, so your hands found the hem of Miranda’s t-shirt and you slipped underneath it. Her bare skin was impossibly smooth, and you felt electricity coursing through your body at the feeling of her soft hips in your hands. Your hands found their way up her back and you raked your nails over the expanse of it, pleased with the hungry growl that escaped Miranda’s lips.

Finding the clasp of her bra, you unclipped it, slipping a hand around to the front of her torso and under the loose fabric to palm her breast. She grasped desperately at your waist as your warm palm rubbed over her nipple, rolling it into a hard peak. Miranda let out a breathy sigh and sat up, straddling your waist and pulling her shirt off. Her bra followed, and both were discarded on the floor behind the couch. 

You felt the air leave your lungs as you stared up at Miranda - your mouth going dry. Her rosy nipples contrasted against her pale skin, her abdomen rippled with every heaving breath that she took. You couldn’t help but reach out and touch her, caressing her hips, her stomach, her breasts - flicking your thumbs over her pert nipples and watching them harden further.

Sitting up, you hungrily took one of the rosy buds into your mouth, sucking greedily and soothing your tongue over it as you felt Miranda’s hands thread through your hair. You repeated the process on her other nipple, thoroughly pleased with yourself when Miranda let out a soft, breathy moan - one that was so deliciously pornographic that you felt a wave of arousal course through you, your panties growing damp.

You released Miranda’s nipple, your hands drifting down to the buckle of her belt and making quick work of undoing it. Miranda took the hint, removing her pants in a hurry and then focusing her attention on your own clothes. Your own shirt was unbuttoned and tossed aside in an instant, your pants tugged down your legs and dropped onto the floor with the rest of the clothing.

Miranda’s bare skin was hot against your own and you pulled her back down on top of you, your pussy throbbing as her nipples brushed against yours. You kissed her with hunger and passion, your left hand palming her ass as your right hand found its way between your bodies to cup her pussy over her underwear.

The constable groaned, immediately grinding against your hand - you noticed that she’d soaked through the thin cotton of her underwear. You pulled the fabric aside and curled your fingers against the length of her slit, letting out a gasp as you felt her dripping for you.

“I need you,” she whined, shuddering as your fingers explored her folds - letting out a strangled whimper when you smeared her wetness over her clit and began to draw lazy circles over the bundle of nerves.

Miranda turned out to be as loud as she was sensitive - you found it easy to bring her to the edge, time and time again, your fingers applying a gentle pressure to her clit and pumping easily in and out of her, her slick walls drawing your digits in and clenching tightly around them. Her unabashed moans filled the air, echoing off the walls of the living room and having you wondering - only briefly, though - how thick those walls were.

After her fifth orgasm, when the stimulation finally became too much for her, Miranda whimpered and shifted her pelvis away from you. Taking the hint, you pulled your hand out of her underwear, your fingers shining with her arousal. You lifted them to Miranda’s face, smirking when she immediately opened her mouth and allowed you to place your fingers on her tongue. She sucked them clean, her flushed cheeks hollowing out, her kiss-swollen lips wrapped around your knuckles. 

You leaned forward to kiss her as she released your fingers, eager to taste the remnants of her orgasm on her tongue. The taste was heavenly - you were almost sorry that Miranda was so overstimulated - you’d have given everything to go down on her.

She pulled back from the kiss, her hot, heavy breath ghosting over your face as she rested her forehead against your own, trying to steady her breathing. A bead of sweat had collected on her forehead and you reached up to wipe it away, tucking a strand of mussed hair behind her ear. It was too short, of course, and immediately fell back into her face - it made you smile, and Miranda smiled - no, beamed - back, her eyes sparkling.

“I hope that wasn’t too much,” you whispered into the silence - Miranda blushed and shook her head no. Her fingers danced along the waistband of your underwear, lightly at first as she leaned in for a languid kiss. Then her fingers curled under the waistband and began tugging, her lips trailing down your jaw, your throat, your sternum, your stomach - soft, warm, wet, hungry. She tugged your underwear down your legs, her lips immediately replacing the fabric as she pressed kisses to your mound, to your inner thighs - finally disappearing between your legs. 

You felt her tongue lap hungrily at your folds, little noises of pleasure coming from between your thighs and vibrating against your cunt. It was both adorable and extremely hot at the same time, how eagerly Miranda ate you out - sloppy, yet determined (and very skilled, you noted mentally, letting out a filthy groan as her lips latched onto your clit, her tongue flicking at the sensitive little bundle).

By the time Miranda was finished with you, your thighs were trembling and your breathing was ragged. The constable pressed one final kiss to your clit, before sitting up and grinning goofily down at you. Her chin was coated in your slick and her cheeks were flushed, and you couldn’t help but loop an arm around her neck and pull her close, licking your own arousal off her face before meeting her lips in a slow, sensual kiss.

After what felt like hours holding each other, kissing and regaining your breaths, you felt your eyes begin to grow heavy and you sighed.

“I should probably get going,” you murmured, your voice slightly hoarse.

“Yeah - of course.” Miranda blushed as she pushed herself off you. “Can you just wait here?”

You nodded, furrowing your brows as the constable stood and walked out of the room. You heard the tap running, then she came back with a wet washcloth.

“Is it okay if I…” Her eyes darted down between your legs as she took a seat next to you.

It was your turn to blush. “Yeah, that’s okay. Thanks.”

Miranda cleaned you up with great care, being extra gentle as she soothed the washcloth over your clit. When she was done, you got dressed in silence, then allowed Miranda to walk you to the door. She paused with her hand on the doorknob.

“Would you want to…” she trailed off, not quite able to meet your gaze.

“Are you busy Saturday? Would you like to go on a date with me?” You couldn’t help but smile as Miranda’s eyes widened and she began to nod, a look of relief washing over her face as her lips curled upwards.

“Yeah - I’m not busy, I would love to.”

“Good.” You smirked, leaning in to press your lips to Miranda’s - her breath hitched in her chest. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

You turned to leave, exiting the apartment and walking down the hall. Turning around to wave goodbye, you could see Miranda smiling as her head poked out from behind the door. 

That night, you fell asleep with a soft smile on your face and a warmth in your belly - already mentally planning your date.

x

Taglist: @alexusonfire @brienneswife @rosieathena @pro-weems-places @bigolgay @kimiinou @imprincipalweemspet @h-doodles @bychrissi @katie-bennet @giogwensversion @gela123 @friskyfisher @justcallmelittleone @michi2504 @scream-queenlover @a-queen-and-her-throne @sequoirius @anne-lister @winterfireblond @imgayforwoman69  @Ssappling2004 @yourlocaldisneyvillain @fictionalized-lesbian @i-like-reading @aemilia19 @milfsloverblog @missdowling @billiedeansbitch @The_Demon_of_your_Dream @agathaandgwenslesbian @http-sam @Cute-catx @saltrage @renravens @opheliauniverse @zillah-ofviolets-bayolet @scarlettssub @catechristiestuff @niceminipotato @mysaviorfalsegod @lvinhs @sweetderacine @daydream-cement @ilovetlcc @wastdstime @ladylarissaweems @barbarasstar @women-are-so-ethereal @thevillagegay

Join my taglist here!

[brienneoftarth1989]

Leave the lights on

Miranda Hilmarson x fem reader

Summary: you had a nightmare in your own apartment. You are screaming and crying in your sleep. Miranda heard you from her apartment and came over to comfort you

Warnings: hurt, comfort, vivid nightmare about death, stabbing

Requests open

———————————

You were running down a dark alley as this shadowed figure ran after you. All you could do was run but you felt like you were getting nowhere. This person was getting closer and closer and there was nothing that you could do about it.

All of a sudden you found yourself stuck at the end of the alley with nowhere to go. You turned around as you rested your back against the wall as the person ran closer and closer and the next thing you found happening was a knife going through your body.

You looked up at the person trying to get a glimpse of the person but you couldn’t make out who it was. Then they twisted the knife inside of you.

Miranda awoke to the sound of muffled cries and screams. She immediately sat up thinking someone was in danger and before she knew what was going on she heard this blood curdling scream. That was it, Miranda jumped out of bed and rushed to get some clothes on.

She ran out of her apartment to try and hear where the sound was coming from and that’s when she realised it was coming from your apartment. You and Miranda have become quite close as friends since you moved in to the apartment complex and the two of you have always spent so much time together.

That’s why Miranda was so concerned when she realised that the screams were coming from your apartment. Miranda was quick to kick the door in and run straight to find you expecting to find some intruder.

Instead she found you curled up in your bed rocking back and forth with tears in your eyes. Miranda slowly turned the light on before making her way closer to you. “Hey y/n, what’s the matter? I heard you screaming from my apartment. Is there someone here? Did someone try to hurt you?” She asked you as she sat down next to you in the bed.

“No…I had a bad dream” you admitted as you tried to comfort yourself. “Oh darling, it’s ok, it’s not real. It’s all over now” Miranda said as she brought you closer to her body allowing you to rest on her chest. You immediately started crying once again.

“Do you want to tell me what happened in your dream?” Miranda asked, wondering if it was something she could help with. “I was being chased in the dark and I ended up running down an alley which led to a dead end. The figure that was chasing me eventually trapped me there before stabbing me in the chest. I tried to see who it was but that’s when they twisted the knife and I woke up” you told her sobbing.

“Oh sweetheart. It’s ok. It’s going to be ok. It was just a dream. It wasn’t real. I’m here now. It’s going to be ok” she told you, trying to reassure you. “Please don’t leave me alone” you muttered not wanting to let go of Miranda.

“Don’t worry sweetheart. I won’t. How about I make us some popcorn and we can watch a nice happy film” Miranda suggested which made you smile. “That sounds like a good ideal you muttered as you watched Miranda stand up to head to your kitchen.

“Can you leave the light on?” You asked suddenly, scared that something is gonna get you once it goes dark. “Of course y/n” Miranda smiled as she then left the room. You could still feel the shaking and the anxiety taking over your body and you just needed to find a way to relax.

You could hear Miranda sorting stuff out in the kitchen and then you heard the microwave start and not long after you heard the sound of the popcorn popping. Not long after Miranda came through with a big bowl of popcorn and two cans of Coke that she had got from the fridge.

Hope this is ok she said as she climbed back into bed with you and placed the popcorn between you before handing over the can of drink. “I hope this is ok. Now let’s find a nice calming film to watch” Miranda smiled as she grabbed the firestick remote and turned on the tv.

Miranda found Disney+ and put on zootropolis. Yes it is a kids film but it was something calm and wouldn’t scare you. The two of you happily sat there eating popcorn and watching the film.

Considering it was 2 in the morning you thought you or Miranda would have fallen asleep by now but you seemed to be wide awake. When the film finished you looked over at Miranda who now looked like she was struggling to sleep.

“Can we put Lilo and Stitch on?” You asked Miranda as you cuddled up with her. “Yeah of course” she groggily said as she put it on the tv. You decided you needed to at least try and sleep. So you rested your head on Miranda before closing your eyes and drifting back off to sleep.

Hopefully you wouldn’t have another awful dream but at least Miranda is here to protect you. The next thing you knew was that you were waking up in your nice warm bed. The thoughts of last night came flooding into your brain which only made you smile.

You looked next to you expecting to see Miranda but you were disappointed to find the bed empty. You pulled yourself out of bed and dragged yourself into the kitchen to make yourself a coffee.

That was where you found Miranda with two cups of coffee and a plate of waffles for the both of you. “Aww Miranda. You didn’t have to make breakfast. I thought you had left to be honest” you laughed slightly.

“Nah I couldn’t leave you after last night so I decided to make you some breakfast. I want you to know y/n I am here for you any time of day. Just remember that ok” she smiled at you as you sat down and took a bite of your breakfast.

“Thanks Miranda. Trust me I won’t forget” you smiled at her. “Now come on. Once you have eaten and gotten yourself ready we are heading to the zoo. We need to put some happy thoughts in your brain” Miranda laughed.

You couldn’t help but laugh at what Miranda had said and you couldn’t wait to get to the zoo. Today was going to be a good day after all.