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theswordmaiden · 2 months

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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... @vivendraws

“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 groupchat, 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.

and, if you're curious, here is the playlist i made/listened to while writing this. all of my gwen character playlists are there as well.

#mirandahilmarson #miranda hilmarson #miranda hilmarson x reader #gwendoline christie #gwendolinechristie #gwendolineuniverse #topofthelake #topofthelakechinagirl #top of the lake #theswordmaiden

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daydream-cement · 8 months

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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

#gwendoline christie #gwen christie #miranda hilmarson smut #miranda hilmarson x reader #miranda hilmarson #top of the lake #smut #oneshot

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onequeerhuman · 3 months

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Literal 5 min bus stop sketch of Gwen in that one pic because i could not stop thinking abt it🤭

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dashbag-art · 2 months

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My religion is Miranda smoking, and you can't change my mind

#gwendoline christie #gwendoline is mommy #miranda hilmarson #top of the lake

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weemssapphic · 4 months

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Could I request a fluff fic for Miranda :0?

Maybe the weathers getting colder, cuffing szn etc Miranda falls for one of her neighbors who keeps bringing her baked goods, she’s unaware that said neighbor likes her!!! (unaware queen). Literally anything cute and sweet to get me thru the treacherous winter of Northern Europe HAHA

A/N: Hello! Sooooo a. this became a bit more of a Christmas fic than a winter fic, I hope that's okay, and b. I also failed to finish it before Christmas as I had originally planned 🥴 buuut I do hope you enjoy anyway! HUGE shoutout to @autumn-leaves-chasing-breeze and @agathaandgwenslesbian for beta'ing and hyping me up to post this, I love you both 🥺💖

Merry Christmas, Baby

Words: ~6.3k | ao3 link in title Warnings: mentions of alcohol/drinking, cigarettes/smoking

You’ve been living in your new apartment for about three months now, after leaving home and moving all the way to Australia for work. You like to think you’ve settled in well: you’re starting to get into a routine, you’ve managed to decorate most of your apartment and make it feel like home, Sydney isn’t as daunting as it was in the beginning - you were even able to give a tourist directions the other day.

The only thing missing is, well, friends. You get along well enough with your coworkers, they’ve been welcoming and have even started to invite you out. But more weekends than not you find yourself exploring the city on your own or hanging out on your couch with takeout, watching Netflix and thinking about your friends back home. You try to FaceTime them as often as you can, but the time difference makes it hard, and sometimes it makes you sad to ‘see’ them and know you can’t just meet up like you used to.

To stave off some of the loneliness you’ve been feeling, you’ve spent the past few weeks attempting to meet more people - and one person in particular has caught your eye: your neighbor, Miranda. You met her in the hallway during your first week in the building - she’d come up the stairs as you were fumbling with your keys, struggling a bit as your arms were full of groceries. She’d immediately offered to help, her eyes wide and her smile bright as she’d rushed over to you and grabbed the grocery bags right out of your hands. The way she looked down at you, watching your every move with great interest as you unlocked your door, brought a flush to your cheeks that only got worse during the subsequent small talk.

Your interactions since then have been a bit sparse - you keep hoping you’ll catch a glimpse of her in the hallway, but you rarely do. Sometimes you’ll hear her apartment door fall shut late at night as you’re falling asleep, or you’ll hear her footsteps on the stairs early in the morning while you’re still getting ready - wherever she works, she seems to have irregular shifts.

~~~

It’s a Sunday evening and you’re spending it alone (again). When your friend back home had canceled your scheduled FaceTime call at the last minute, you’d decided to distract yourself by baking. As you put together the ingredients for blueberry muffins, you find your mind wandering to your tall, blonde neighbor - wondering what it is she does for work, where she’s from (you thought you caught a British accent but you weren’t sure anymore), whether or not she’s seeing anyone…

The sound of the timer pulls you out of your thoughts and you turn off the oven and pull the muffin tray out, setting it on the counter. Your heart sinks when you realize there’s no way you’re going to finish them all by yourself. You suppose you could bring some to work… You bite your lip, your brow furrowing as you stare down the baked goods. Perhaps you could bring Miranda some? Butterflies erupt in your tummy when you picture her opening her front door, her lips stretching into a smile that reaches her bright blue eyes. Perhaps she would invite you in, perhaps the two of you would spend the evening on her couch, getting closer by the hour as you get to know one another. Perhaps…

You shake your head, trying not to get ahead of yourself. You’ll just stop by with a few muffins and see what happens. Maybe she’ll be busy. Or she won’t even be home and you’ll be forced to leave them next to her door.

After preparing a small basket of baked goods and changing from your rattiest sweatpants into a pair of jeans, you slip out of your apartment and cross the hall. Your heart begins to pound, your hands turning clammy as you bring your fist up to Miranda’s door. After a brief moment’s hesitation and a deep breath, you knock.

At first, you’re met with silence - your heart sinks a bit, and you try to ignore the little pang of disappointment that begins to creep up on you. But just as you’re about to turn around, you hear a shuffling behind the door. It opens just a crack - you hear an “Oh!” - and then it swings open fully, revealing Miranda in a navy bathrobe. Her hair is wet, slicked back - one strand falls over her eyebrow and she pushes it back, a smile growing on her lips as she looks down at you.

“Hello,” she says, sounding a little breathless. You feel yourself flush as you realize you must have caught her just out of the shower - perhaps it took her so long to answer the door because she wasn’t dressed yet, and the thought makes you slightly dizzy.

“Hi.” You can’t help but gawk a bit, and the thought of just dropping the muffins at her feet and leaving before you can make a fool of yourself briefly crosses your mind.

Her brows furrow slightly and so do yours, before you realize that you should probably say something else.

“I just wanted to…” You gesture vaguely at the basket you’re holding. “If this is a bad time, I can come back later,” you manage to stutter out, focusing all your efforts on keeping your eyes on her face.

“Oh, you’re alright,” Miranda says, craning her neck a bit to catch a glimpse at what you’re holding. “Are those muffins?”

“Yeah. For you.” You thrust your arms out, holding the basket towards her. Her eyes widen, darting between you and the basket as she takes it from you.

Her entire face seems to light up with excitement - she looks positively giddy. “Did you make these?”

“Yes! Yeah. I like baking. And I made too many. So I thought I would see if you want some.”

The smile that’s broken out across Miranda’s face is one you wish you could save and put in your pocket to look at on your worst days. It lights up her entire face, making her eyes sparkle and her nose crinkle - it’s the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen. You’re so distracted by it that you nearly miss her next words.

“Would you like to come in? I was going to make some tea.”

“Sure.”

You blush as Miranda steps aside, allowing you to step over the threshold of her apartment. She shuts the door behind you then walks past you into her kitchen. Even the way she walks is attractive to you - the mesmerizing sway of her hips, the way she pushes her shoulders back and swings her arms, her long strides. Taking a deep breath, you follow her and lean against the door frame, watching as she sets down the muffins on the counter and puts on the electric kettle.

“I didn’t know if you’d be home,” you say, breaking the silence. You’re a bit embarrassed that your voice comes out hoarse, and you clear your throat. “I don’t see you around much. Do you do shift work?”

Miranda glances back at you as she rummages through the cupboards for two mugs. She smiles softly. “Sort of. I’ve been on call a lot lately.”

“Oh.” You cock your head to the side. “What do you do?”

“I’m, uh, a police constable.”

Your eyes widen as you process the information. It makes sense, you realize - and then you feel your mouth go dry as you picture Miranda in a police uniform.

“What do you do?”

Her question breaks you out of your trance, and you can feel your cheeks turn red. “Oh, um, that’s… I work in accounting.” You swallow back your embarrassment at having a “boring” desk job, your eyes darting around Miranda’s kitchen - anything to avoid meeting her gaze.

“Steady work then,” she says - you can hear the smile in her voice and you dare to steal a glance at her face. Her expression is soft, completely at ease, and you can’t help but feel your shoulders relax a little. “How come you moved to Sydney? Did you move here for a guy?”

A sound between a snort and a chuckle escapes your lips and you quickly look away again. “Nope.” You want to say that you’re more into women, but you get nervous and something stops you. “I just needed a change of scenery. I figured moving to an English-speaking country would be easiest, and I thought the weather here would be nicer than in the UK.”

Miranda laughs a full-belly laugh, throwing her head back. “I’m from the UK, you know.”

“Tell me I’m wrong then,” you tease with a grin.

Her eyes flicker briefly over your form, an amused grin on her face. “You’re… you’re not wrong.” She ducks her head in surrender - then the kettle goes off and she turns to busy herself with preparing the tea.

“So why did you move to Sydney then?”

“My boyfriend at the time was Australian.” Miranda hands you one of the mugs, then leans back against the counter, taking a sip of her own tea and observing you carefully. You try not to let on to the way that your stomach sinks when you hear the word “boyfriend” - it doesn’t mean she’s straight, you remind yourself (and besides, even if she did like women - it doesn’t mean she’d like you). You nod and hum in acknowledgment, hoping to come off as casual and unaffected as you sip your tea.

Miranda sets down her mug and reaches over the small kitchen table to grab a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Once again you find yourself mesmerized as long, slender fingers pull a cigarette out of the pack, placing it between her pale lips as she lights it.

For a moment, she seems unaware of your presence - she takes a deep drag from the cigarette, her fingers playing with the lighter as she exhales a cloud of smoke. Then her eyes fall to your face and widen slightly. “Oh, God, sorry. Do you mind?”

You shake your head - it’s not your apartment so it’s not like you have a say anyway, and, if you’re honest, you find it a bit hot. “Go ahead, it’s your apartment.”

She shoots you a grateful smile and takes another drag from the cigarette. “You want one?”

You nod and she tosses you the pack. Once you’ve plucked a cigarette from it, she steps towards you. “Here, let me,” she says, moving to light it for you as her own cigarette dangles from between her lips. She gets closer than would probably be necessary and her proximity makes you feel a little faint - you can smell the shampoo in her still-damp hair, and the smoke on her breath. Your eyes are trained on the lighter - when the flame goes out, you glance up, only to be met with the brightest blue eyes you’ve ever seen. They’re even lighter than you initially thought and her gaze is intense - it’s slightly overwhelming.

“Thanks,” you whisper hoarsely, forcing yourself to blink and take a step back. Miranda’s eyes are fixed curiously on your face as she plucks her cigarette from between her lips. She tilts her head, her lips parting into a smile.

“What?” There’s a playful edge to her voice and her eyes sparkle with mischief. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You freeze, your cheeks turning pink. “Like what?”

“You find me intimidating, don’t you?” You open your mouth to argue but she cuts you off, gesturing down the length of her body. “It’s my height, isn’t it? I get that a lot.”

“It’s not- I mean…” You shrug lamely, taking a sip of your tea to give yourself a moment to think. “It’s not you, I’ve just had a long day. A long few months, actually.” Okay, so you’re deflecting - but it feels way too nice just to bask in Miranda’s presence, and you don’t want it to end so soon by making things awkward.

Miranda’s face softens in an instant, little creases appearing between her brows. “From the move? It can be so hard to uproot your life like that.”

It’s a phrase you’ve heard before - people trying to sympathize with you, looking for something meaningful to say. But with Miranda, it feels different. With the way she’s looking at you, it feels like she truly understands.

~~~

In the past few weeks you’ve gotten into the habit of bringing Miranda baked goods - always on the pretext of having made extras for work and other neighbors (though you never have any intention of giving them to anyone except Miranda). It’s more than worth the hours spent in the kitchen to see the smile that lights up her face when she answers the door. Sometimes she invites you in for tea and a cigarette, sometimes there’s only time for a bit of small talk before one of you needs to get going - but each time, butterflies erupt in your belly and you find yourself wishing you were brave enough to make a move.

What you don’t know is that Miranda finds herself wishing the same thing. Sure, she loves everything you make her (nothing you’ve ever baked her has lasted more than 2 days at most), but the real reason her face breaks into a splitting grin when she answers the door is because it’s you who’s standing there.

Miranda can’t get enough of you - you’re easy to talk to, you make her laugh, you seem to take her as she is. And you’re damn beautiful. The most exciting part of her week is wondering on which evening you’ll come by unannounced after work, and she finds herself praying she’ll have the time to talk to you.

One such evening, you’ve come over with a tray of red velvet cupcakes - decorated with festive little Christmas tree sprinkles. Miranda’s just gotten off a shift and has the evening off, and she’s never been more grateful as she leads you into her kitchen and turns on the kettle. You make yourself right at home, settling on a kitchen chair and tucking your legs underneath you as you reach for the pack of cigarettes on the table - it’s almost become a routine now, and you look like you belong there. Miranda likes that thought more than she’d care to admit.

Still, despite how often you’ve come by lately, she feels there’s still some sort of barrier between the two of you. Your conversations are the best part of her week, yet they tend to feel a bit… shallow. She’s desperate to get to know you better but she’s holding herself back - the fear of driving you away, of being too much for you to handle, causes her to freeze up. You’re just being nice, trying to make new friends in Australia, and here she is, falling for you one red velvet cupcake at a time.

“Mir?” Your voice pulls her out of her thoughts and she looks at you like a deer caught in headlights. She tries desperately to remember what you were talking to her about, but she realizes quickly that her efforts are futile - she was too busy admiring the lock of hair falling across your cheek, the way you ran your fingers through your hair to push it back.

“Sorry.” She offers you a sheepish smile, her cheeks slowly turning scarlet.

You smile back, and her heart skips a beat. “I asked if you’re staying in Sydney for Christmas or if you’re going back to London?”

“I’m staying here. I work on Christmas, so…” She frowns slightly - she hasn’t gone home for Christmas in a few years. Usually, she works and spends her off-hours curled up in bed watching Christmassy rom-coms by herself. She’s gotten used to it. “Are you? Going home for Christmas?”

“Nah. I blew all my savings in the move, can’t afford the plane ticket.” Something about the way you shrug your shoulders, your gaze dropping to the floor, tells Miranda that your nonchalance is a front.

“Would you like to come over?” Miranda, what are you saying? “We could cook something and watch a movie together.” Miranda, shut up! “Maybe you could sleep over and we could keep each other company.” Oh, great, now you’ve done it! Miranda’s eyes widen as she realizes what she’s saying, but she can’t take it back now - and, to be honest, she doesn’t want to take it back. Her heart hammers wildly against her ribcage as she waits for you to reply. It only takes you seconds, really, but those few seconds might as well be hours as time slows and Miranda begins to find it hard to breathe.

“Oh, it’s fine, you don’t have to take me in! I’ll be okay, I wouldn’t want to impose.” Your words come out in a rush and your cheeks are turning pink - Miranda’s heart starts to sink and she scrambles to find the right words to save the conversation.

“You wouldn’t be imposing, I’d have just had a few beers by myself after work anyway.” She chuckles nervously, before adding, “I could use the company.”

She quickly looks away from you, finding the brief moment of vulnerability too much to handle - she couldn’t bear to see the look in your eyes at the moment, certainly one of pity or judgment.

“Oh… Well in that case, I’d love to spend Christmas with you. If that’s okay.”

Miranda’s eyes widen and she glances over at you to see you smiling shyly - her heart stutters in her chest and she feels her stomach flip pleasantly. She lets out a shaky breath, unable to stop the wide smile that’s creeping up her face. “Okay then.”

~~~

Ever since that evening in Miranda’s apartment, you’ve been buzzing with excitement. She’d ended up giving you her number so that you could plan when to come over, and it’s taken all of your restraint not to bug her every waking second - you wouldn’t want her getting sick of you and regretting inviting you over.

But as Christmas is just a few days away, you decide to shoot her a text as you’re lying in bed at night.

Y/N: Hey there, it’s Y/N! I just wanted to ask what time you wanted me to come over on Christmas? :)

You toss your phone aside, not expecting Miranda to text back anytime soon - it’s already late, after all. When your screen lights up moments later, however, your heart begins to pound.

Miranda: Hey! Miranda: I work until 4 Miranda: So evening I would say

Y/N: How does 6 sound? Is that too early?

Miranda: That sounds perfect :)

Y/N: Great! Should I bring anything?

Miranda: Just yourself ;) Miranda: Wait Miranda: Actually Miranda: Do you remember the cookies you brought me last week?

Y/N: What, am I not enough for you? ;) Y/N: (I’ll make some more)

Miranda: Are you sure?

Y/N: Absolutely!! Anything for my favorite neighbor.

Miranda: You’re too good to me

By the time you’re done texting her, you’re grinning down at your phone like an idiot. The screen goes black and you catch sight of your reflection - you blush and bury your head in your pillow. For the first time since you moved, you’re actually starting to get excited for Christmas.

~~~

Three days later you’re wrapping up a pair of Christmas pajamas (red, covered in little white snowflakes - you have a matching pair) to give to Miranda - you want to give her something for Christmas, but you don’t know her all that well yet to get her something personal. Still, you think (or at least, you hope) she’ll find the pajamas silly and fun.

Armed with the gift, a huge tupperware box full of candy cane cookies, your keys, and your phone, you pad across the hall and knock gently on Miranda’s door. You hear her muffled voice yell “coming”, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps, before the door swings open. Miranda’s eyes flick briefly down your body, over the wrapped gift and the cookies, before she finally meets your gaze. She’s slightly out of breath, and her lips curl up into a smile that meets her eyes. What you would give to kiss those lips…

“Merry Christmas,” you say, smiling back and forcing your eyes to remain trained on her own.

“Right! Merry Christmas!” You could swear you see Miranda’s cheeks turn pink, but before you have time to question it she’s ushering you into her apartment, her hand coming to rest on your lower back as she steers you towards the kitchen. “I did some food shopping the other day. I wasn’t sure what you’d want to eat, I’m not usually big on holiday foods and I didn’t have time to prepare anything because of work.”

Miranda’s rambling has you swooning - you can tell she’s nervous, though you aren’t sure why. If only she knew you’d happily eat frozen pizza or cereal for Christmas dinner, as long as you get to spend it with her.

“It’s fine, I don’t care much about Christmas dinner, we can eat anything.” You hope that you’re coming off as reassuring, though you can’t really tell as Miranda blushes again and lights up a cigarette.

“Maybe a curry?” she asks, chewing at her bottom lip.

“Yeah, that sounds great. Just tell me what you need help with.”

She seems to relax a bit, heading over to the fridge and pulling out ingredients. “What do you drink? Do you want a beer?”

“Please.”

The two of you spend the next 45 minutes side by side in the small kitchen, cooking, drinking, talking - mostly it’s Miranda, telling you about her workday. When she’s done chopping vegetables, she reaches for the pack of cigarettes again - “sorry, nerves,” she says with a faint smile. You still can’t fathom what she’s nervous about but you don’t want to push her, so you shrug it off and turn your attention to the curry that’s simmering in the pan. You dip a spoon into the sauce to try it, humming in delight the second the flavors explode on your tongue.

“This is really good, try it!” Without thinking you bring the spoon to Miranda’s mouth and, without thinking, she closes her lips around it. Her eyelids flutter shut and she lets out a little noise of pleasure that’s dangerously close to a moan. Heat pools in your stomach, your eyes glued to her lips as you slide the spoon out of her mouth - it’s the first time you notice a little scar above her lip, and you swallow thickly.

You quickly avert your gaze as Miranda’s eyes open again, taking a sip of your beer as you check on the rice.

“I was thinking we could just eat in the living room and watch a movie?” Miranda suggests when the curry is done cooking. You agree and help Miranda carry the bowls and a couple bottles of beer into the living room. It’s small, like yours, and a little cluttered. There’s a string of fairy lights above the window and a small Christmas tree sat atop a side table. Miranda’s eyes follow your gaze and she chuckles.

“I actually put that up two days ago, I panicked when I realized I didn’t have any Christmas decorations up at all.”

“You didn’t have to decorate on my account,” you tease, earning yourself a laugh.

“Oh but what kind of Christmas would it be without a tree?”

“Can’t argue with that.”

Miranda smiles at you as she settles on the couch, crossing her legs and setting her bowl in her lap. She gestures for you to join her. You tuck your knees underneath you, angling your body towards her. As you eat, you fall into an easy conversation - you find yourself getting even more comfortable in Miranda’s presence, feeling right at home in her apartment. You can tell she’s relaxing as well - she stretches her legs out, her toes (clad in Christmas-themed socks) touching the side of your thigh.

“I got you something, by the way,” Miranda says suddenly, leaning over to place her almost-empty bowl on the table. You follow suit, a smile lighting up your face.

“I got you something, too - wait here!” Miranda looks somewhat surprised as you jump up and rush into the kitchen, returning with the gift you’d brought. She now has a gift of her own on her lap, and she’s picking at the edge of the wrapping paper as you settle back down beside her, a soft smile on her face.

You exchange gifts and Miranda’s chewing nervously at her bottom lip as she watches you tear open the wrapping paper. It’s a cookbook for baking - you can’t help but laugh, and you look up to see Miranda’s cheeks turn pink.

“Is this meant to be a hint?” you tease, and Miranda chuckles nervously.

“Sorry, I-”

“I love it,” you cut her off, setting the book down beside you and leaning over to wrap your arms tightly around her torso. She returns the hug - her arms are strong and comforting and you’re immediately enveloped in her scent. It takes everything in you not to kiss her.

After pulling away, you gesture eagerly to the gift that’s in her lap. She has a look of nervous excitement on her face as she begins to unwrap it - her smile widens when she takes the pjs out of the wrapping paper and holds them in front of her.

“I hope they fit, I guessed your size. I have the same ones and you seem like the type of person who would like them.”

Miranda’s eyes widen as she looks over at you, her expression nothing short of giddy. “You have the same ones? Wear them! We can match.”

Her reaction is exactly what you hoped it would be. The prospect of wearing matching Christmas pjs is both adorable and a little intimate, and you’re filled with nervous anticipation as you head across the hall to your apartment to get changed.

When you get back to Miranda’s apartment a few minutes later, the blonde is sitting on her couch with her legs tucked underneath her. She smiles so widely that her nose crinkles, and she opens her arms to you. Without a second thought, you allow yourself to be pulled into a tight hug.

“Do you like them?” you ask as you pull away.

“I love them!” The smile on her face is genuine, her eyes shining brightly, and you can’t help but blush, your entire body tingling a bit as your eyes drift down her body.

~~~

You’re about an hour into the second movie of the night and you’re already several beers deep (you’ve lost count, to be honest). You’ve scooted closer and closer to Miranda as the evening has worn on, and now you’re practically on top of her - your legs are bent at the knee, tucked against your body and resting on the outside of her thigh, your shoulder is all but glued to her own.

You drain the rest of your beer, then pout at the bottle. “It’s empty,” you say, more to yourself than to Miranda, who chuckles and shifts beside you.

“I can get you another one?”

“It’s fine,” you say with a giggle. “Maybe I should stop drinking.” You’re not drunk but you’re definitely tipsy - you turn your head to face Miranda a little too quickly and, for a brief moment, the room spins, causing you to burst into another fit of giggles.

Your eyes meet Miranda’s, before dropping to her lips and getting stuck there. They’re curled into an amused smile as she chuckles at your inebriated state - though the smile slowly fades as her brows begin to crease. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips and your own laughter quickly dies in your throat, your mouth going dry. You can tell Miranda’s breathing has gone shallow, her eyes falling to your lips. The air around you becomes thick and heavy, and Miranda’s gaze darts away.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles, scrambling to scoot away - before she can get very far, your arm shoots out and holds her in place.

“What are you sorry for?” you whisper. The only sound you can hear is the pounding of your own heart in your ears as you wait for Miranda to respond. Her gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips, a lovely shade of pink rising in her cheeks.

“I-” she starts, cutting herself off as she swallows visibly.

“Do you want to kiss me?” You don’t know what prompted you to be so bold (probably the alcohol), but when a soft, barely audible whimper escapes Miranda’s throat, you can’t say you regret asking.

“Yes.”

You definitely don’t regret asking.

“I want to kiss you, too,” you whisper, leaning in slightly as you fix your gaze on soft-looking, pale pink lips that glisten slightly in the dim light of the living room. Then you stop yourself, hesitating as the room spins again. You’ve dreamed of kissing those same lips for weeks now but something is off.

The alcohol, you realize - you don’t want your first kiss with Miranda to be clouded by alcohol. You want to appreciate and remember the moment fully, you want to savor every second. So, as much as you’re dying to close the gap and absolutely ravage the lovely, beautiful woman sitting next to you, you decide to pull back. “But I’m going to wait until tomorrow. I want to be completely sober for that. And… if you still want to kiss me tomorrow… then I’ll kiss you.”

Miranda nods slowly, looking a bit dazed. “That’s, uh,” she starts, her voice hoarse. She clears her throat. “That’s a good idea.” She shifts in her seat, crossing one thigh tightly over the other. The air is still thick and heavy, and it takes everything in you not to say ‘fuck it’ and push her back onto the couch - but you mean it, you really do want to be sober for that. So you lean back, putting a few inches of distance between yourself and Miranda for the remainder of the film.

You feel yourself becoming more and more tired, and by the time the credits are rolling, you’re struggling to keep your eyes open. Pushing yourself up off the couch, you sway slightly as you make it to your feet, and immediately decide to sit back down so that you don’t fall over.

“You sure you can make it back down the hall okay?” Miranda teases, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she watches you lean back against the sofa.

You roll your eyes and shoot her a playful glare. “I’m not drunk. I’m just tired.” As if to emphasize your point, you yawn widely as you finish your last sentence - Miranda laughs.

“You can sleep here if you want,” she offers - then her face goes pale and she rushes to explain herself. “Not with me of course, but the couch is quite comfortable. Or you can take the bed and I’ll take the couch, that’s fine, too-”

She’s talking a mile a minute and it’s the most charming thing you’ve ever heard - especially since you definitely would sleep with her. You’d just prefer to do it sober. Giggling, you decide to show her mercy and cut her off. “Thanks for the offer. I think I’ll take the couch if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, let me get you some blankets.” She turns off the tv and stands, leaving the room for a minute and coming back with a pillow and an armful of blankets. You get up and try to help her to make a makeshift bed for you, but your movements are a bit sluggish and you realize you’re just getting in her way, so you end up perching on the edge of the coffee table until she gives you the go.

You snuggle into the blankets - they smell like Miranda, and it takes everything in you not to bury your nose in them and moan out loud. Instead, you shoot Miranda a smile and mutter a sleepy ‘thank you’ - she nods, telling you to yell if you need her, then turns to leave.

“Oh, Miranda?” You lift your head off the pillow and crane your neck towards the blonde.

She pauses in the doorway, turning back to face you as she runs a hand through her hair. “Hmm?”

“Merry Christmas.” You beam at her, even as your eyes threaten to close any second. The evening was far from a traditional Christmas celebration, but it was the best Christmas you’ve had in a long time.

“Merry Christmas,” she replies, her smile soft and genuine, before turning around and disappearing into her bedroom, closing the door quietly behind her.

~~~

You’re out like a light the second Miranda is gone, completely oblivious to the internal struggle she faces as she curls up in her own bed. She tries to close her eyes and force herself to sleep, but she’s not tired at all - her mind is racing and her heart is pounding, her entire body responding to the evening she’s shared with you. The laughter, the sense of familiarity and peace, the tension when you nearly kissed her. And, God, does she want to kiss you. But you’re tipsy, and you probably just said that in the heat of the moment - she gets it, sometimes alcohol makes her flirty and a little horny as well. You probably won’t remember that conversation in the morning - and you probably won’t want to kiss her anymore either.

She can’t help the way her heart sinks as she comes to that realization, and it keeps her up for the better part of the night. She feels like she’s just managed to nod off when the morning light starts to filter in through the curtains and she groans, burying her face in her pillow.

Thud.

Miranda freezes for a moment, her blood going cold as she hears a noise coming from her living room. Then she remembers that you’re sleeping on her couch and her body relaxes again. She’s nervous, wondering if you’ll be awkward about the previous evening’s sexual tension, but her curiosity about whether or not you’re already awake wins out and she pushes herself off the bed, smoothing a hand over her hair and wiping the sleep out of her eyes before creeping into the hallway, careful to be quiet in case you’re still sleeping.

There’s a clattering coming from the living room though, and she finds you collecting the beer bottles from last night that are still scattered across the coffee table.

“Hello,” Miranda says, her voice still a little hoarse from sleep.

Your head whips around towards the doorway and your cheeks turn pink. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to clean up a bit. Did I wake you?” The way you’re chewing at your bottom lip is adorable and makes Miranda want to kiss you senseless. She chuckles and shakes her head.

“No, I was awake anyway. Here, let me help.” Miranda helps you clear off the coffee table, heading into the kitchen with an armful of bottles and her empty bowl from dinner. You’re right behind her with the rest of the dishes and you immediately make your way to the sink and start washing them - it feels so domestic that it makes Miranda’s heart flutter, and she has to look away and focus on something else so that you can’t see the blush on her cheeks or the yearning that’s surely shining in her eyes.

“Do you want coffee?” she asks, waiting for your affirmative hum before starting to make some. She’s so focused on preparing the coffee machine that she misses you turning off the sink and padding over to her - she yelps as you press against her back, placing your hands on the counter on either side of her and boxing her in. Her heart is racing, skipping beats left and right as your body heat warms her from behind. Drawing in a sharp breath, she turns around to face you.

“Miranda?” Your voice is low and a little shaky, and your cheeks are flushed - gorgeously so, Miranda finds her mouth going dry.

“Yes?” she croaks out.

“Remember how I said I’d kiss you today if you still wanted to?”

All Miranda can do is nod, her mouth hanging open as all the blood rushes to her face.

“Well, I guess I wanted to ask you if you still wanted to kiss me? Because I’m sober now and I still want to kiss you.” You look just as nervous as Miranda feels - she nods again, afraid her voice will betray how badly she wants you.

“Please, say it,” you plead, your eyes wide and earnest. “I need to hear you say it.”

“Y-yes. I- I want to kiss you.”

Your lips curl up into a soft smile and your hands move from the counter to Miranda’s waist, your grip firm as if you’re afraid she’ll run away from you. You press yourself up onto your toes until your face is mere inches away from her own. She can feel your breath on her face, warm and shallow. Her eyes are glued to your lips, wondering when you’ll close the gap - then you do, your lips soft and plush as they press gently against hers.

She allows her eyelids to flutter shut and kisses you back, her own hands reaching out tentatively to cup your cheeks. You smile into the kiss and she takes the opportunity to deepen it - you groan softly into her mouth as her tongue brushes against yours, and she swallows the sound, groaning back in return.

“I didn’t think you’d remember,” she murmurs, her thumb stroking your cheek.

“As if I haven’t been thinking about that since the moment I first met you,” you tease with a seductive grin, before wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her down for a second kiss, even more passionate than the last.

@alexusonfire @brienneswife @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 @agathaandgwenslesbian @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 @lvinhs @sweetderacine @daydream-cement @ilovetlcc @wastdstime @ladylarissaweems @spacetoaim22 @m1lflov3rrr

#miranda hilmarson x reader #miranda hilmarson #top of the lake #top of the lake: china girl #i haven't posted in almost 2.5 months and i'm ANXIOUS #hype a girl up 😭#i also clearly couldn't be arsed to come up with a better title i'm SORRY 🥲

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chaoticstateofaffairs · 7 months

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Mommy? Sorry. Mommy? Sorry. MOMMY! FUCK YES! HOLY SHIT! GWEN THE WOMAN YOU ARE! 🙌🥹🥰🤤🥵🤯🫠

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milfsloverblog · 9 months

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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

#gwendoline christie #miranda hilmarson x reader #miranda hilmarson #Miranda Hilmarson x y/n #top of the lake #no beta we die like miranda #what can I say #yes they’re watching Carol #and they’ve watched Imagine Me & You #bc I’m something of a sapphic stereotype as well #larissa weems x reader

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cissyenthusiast010155 · 1 year

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Mommy... Master List

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gloriousgwendolinechristie · 6 months

Text

OCTOBER 28th, 1978

#gwendoline christie #game of thrones #brienne of tarth #star wars #captain phasma #the sandman #lucifer #wednesday #larissa weems #top of the lake #miranda hilmarson #lucifer morningstar

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meowmeowhissss · 2 months

Text

*caged animal sounds*

#wlw post #sapphic #gwendoline christie #gwendolineuniverse #lucifer morningstar #the sandman #brienne of tarth #game of thrones #larissa weems #wednesday addams #flux gourmet #jan stevens #in fabric #gwen in fabric #top of the lake #miranda hilmarson

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mouse-of-dimitrescu · 5 months

Text

Connection ( fluffy implications of NSFW )

Not my gif

WARNINGS: uh this is something different, romantic, I actually don't know what this is.

𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚒 𝚠𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚕𝚢, 𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚎𝚜

✧･ﾟ: ✧ﾟ･::･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

You and Miranda got married with the typical array of red roses and silly white chair covers. It was cliché but cute. After knowing Miranda for five years, you both decided that you wanted to spend the rest of your lives side by side, as best friends and ironically — partners in crime.

You were on your honeymoon with Miranda by the seaside and you were both sitting by the pool. Miranda couldn't even bother with trying to get a tan — she just burnt and went pale again. You always found it cute when her cheeks and nose were flushed with sunlight and remained that way for a good number of days. You received a notification on your phone and took it out of your small bag, checking to see who had the audacity to message you on your honeymoon.

Before you could say Mary Poppins, Miranda grabbed your phone and put it in her own bag.

" Andy!" You laughed, trying to get your phone back.

" Nuh-uh." She shook her head and smiled, pushing you back down on your chair gently. " I have a big temptation to do something." Miranda said in almost a whisper.

" And what exactly is that?" You asked, raising your eyebrow. You already knew what it was but Miranda, being a big tease, loved to lead you on.

Miranda didn't respond, but slowly snuck her hand onto your thigh, trailing up in one tedious motion. You felt a desire but not a typical lustful desire — rather a desire for a deep connection. Mind, soul and body.

" Andy " you warned with a small smile on your face.

" Mm?" Miranda smiled back innocently and kissed your cheek. You didn't respond but pulled Miranda in for a soft kiss. " Oh I liked that." She giggled and picked you up bridal style, carrying you indoors.

" Andy—" you smiled when she stopped halfway and held you softly, planting little kisses on your face as she entered the room. Your wife carried you inside the bedroom and closed the door behind her.

Miranda plopped you down on the bed and sat comfortably next to you, placing a strand of hair behind your ear.

" I want to adore every inch of you." She said, her face close to yours, her voice was almost a whisper but extremely intimate.

" Ditto." You smiled, unable to keep your gaze away from Miranda's eyes. Her sapphires looking into yours as you gently held each other, occasionally caressing each others' arms, cheeks and torso.

A silence followed. But the silence that filled the room wasn't awkward, but it was one of love and understanding. It was a silence that let two lovers be in the same room together, to know how each other felt without saying a word. Like two close clouds, ready to conjoin.

Your clothes began to get removed by gentle soft hands, Miranda's long fingers easily undoing the buttons of your shirt as she lifted you up slightly, taking the garment off completely and throwing it elsewhere. You weren't wearing a bra which allowed Miranda to smile when she saw your bare chest exposed to her under the evening's sunset. You thought Miranda was going to touch your chest, but she rather began taking your pants and underwear off in those same gentle and caring motions. The cool breeze made goosebumps appear on your skin and sent a shiver down your spine.

Miranda caressed your cheek, trailing her fingers gently down your body, you metled eagerly into her touch and longed achingly for a kiss — not a bruising kiss but one of peace and mutual affection.

As Miranda promised, she did adore every inch of you. Starting at your forehead, running her fingers gently through the strands of your hair, she began planting kisses on almost every inch of you: your closed eyelids, the bridge and tip of your nose, your cheeks, your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. Everywhere.

Her hands also worked their way down your body, holding you gently and feeling your skin beneath hers.

The last place Miranda kissed were your desperate lips. She snaked her hand around to the back of your neck, pulling you in slightly as she ghosted your lips with hers, planting gentle kisses on them over and over again. You reciprocated by kissing Miranda back, utterly enchanted by her, you brought your hand up to run your thumb over Miranda's scar on her lip, she smiled at that. She let out a soft giggle and melted when you kissed her again — this time more deeply but the gentleness in both of your movements never ceased. You and Miranda leant your foreheads against each other, looking at each other in the eye and smiling, cupping each others cheeks.

You didn't need to say that you loved each other. You didn't have to prove your love for each other. This was evident — sex be damned.

" Miranda." You whispered out.

" Mm?" She asked, breathing heavily but smiling all the same.

" I want to see you. I want to adore you as you've adored me." You confessed softly, your eyes wandered over Miranda's soft face, her light eyelashes and the way her blonde hair fell messily. You removed her hair from her face and tucked the strands behind her ears, kissing her gently and pulling away, searching your lover's eyes.

" You already have, so so much." Miransa kissed you again, taking off her clothes in the process. You helped Miranda and kissed her jawline. Her clothes joined yours on the floor and you looked to Miranda who was now sitting bare in front of you.

Your bodies radiated warmth, this warmth was not particularly desire ( although that was there) but this warmth you had never felt — before Miranda. Like that cloud conjoined — the last angel in heaven being stabbed by sunrays — there was something pure about the moment. Like a rebirth of a divine entity.

" Do you want me to touch you?" Miranda asked, her hand making its way down to your core. She searched your eyes. Normally, in this moment, you would have said yes. But you couldn't bring yourself to get out of this gentle state. This moment with Miranda — a peaceful one. You stopped Miranda in her actions by taking a gentle hold of her wrist.

" No." You plainly but softly said. Miranda smiled and nodded with understanding, clearly feeling the same. " I want your touch but not necessarily in that way." You said, fiddling with your thumbs and looking up at Miranda whose eyes sparkled with love.

Miranda merely nodded and kissed your forehead. Understanding was the one thing that you had always longed for. Like a deprivation fulfilled, you felt everything at once: relief because of a better newfound world with your lover, an evident happiness to finally have the life you've wanted, and the realisation that comes with never being able to yearn for a better love again.

You smiled warmly, scooting over on the bed where Miranda could join you. You lay your head down on the pillow, Miranda copied her actions and smiled across at you. You were close — your hands touched gently. You both lay on your sides, admiring each other in peaceful silence. Miranda's eyes flicked across your face, she gently tickled the palm of your hand, almost absentmindedly. Your hand trailed soft lines down her arm.

Yet again, words be damned. They were unnecessary. What you both felt was ineffable. Miranda's sapphire eyes staring into yours was what made you feel at home.

Yes, you were a long way from your house but that wasn't really your home. Miranda wasn't just a lover, but a personification of a place where you belonged. The feeling was mutual.

To finally find a sense of belonging was dream fulfilling for both you and Miranda. Belonging meant a home, a home meant safety and safety meant stability. Most of all, a home meant to love and be loved.

:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

#gwendoline christie #miranda hilmarson x reader #miranda hilmarson #top of the lake #larissa weems #gwendolineuniverse

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daydream-cement · 9 months

Text

At The Drive-In (NSFW)

Miranda Hilmarson x Reader

Miranda's plans to make her girlfriend's first time special.

Author's Note: I have no clue what compelled me to write this.

Miranda felt wrong for it, but after nearly a year of dating you, she was tired of waiting to have sex. The wait to have sex was mostly the blonde’s doing as it was her own way of showing you that she was there for you and you only.

Kisses were lingering long enough to initiate long bouts of making-out on the constable’s couch. Make-out sessions that the blonde was positive she could feel you grinding against her thigh as the intensity of the kisses increased. Miranda craved your touch to the point she had been daydreaming of this date for weeks.

The drive-in theater had been pointed out by you on a previous date and the constable had been looking at the movie showings for weeks to find something neither of you would want to actually watch. Miranda had been planning for it to be a bit of a romantic excursion, seeing as the Hollywood version of a drive-in usually meant making out.

---

Miranda had been holding this question in the back of her mind for nearly 15 minutes. The movie only serving as background noise to her thoughts. It felt brazen and inappropriate to ask, but she hoped it suggested the desire she had for you. “Would you like to sit in the back with me?”

“In the back?” Your response was automatic from an initial confusion as it would be harder to see the movie from the back. As you considered the question, you realized Miranda was more interested in spending some quality time with you rather than watching the movie.

“Yeah.” Miranda felt like she could be sick, but there was no way she could initiate intimacy if she wasn’t willing to ask for it.

There was a brief pause from you as you considered all of the pent up desire you felt for Miranda and the potential there was for you to finally release it all. “Oh... Yes, please.”

It felt incredibly embarrassing for the constable as she opened her car door and circled back into the back seat. She felt her ears burning and she clenched her fists a few times to chase away the feeling of them starting to shake. You followed suit and slid into the other side of the backseat, your own heart beating like a scared rabbit.

The air was thick with desire, masking itself as unbearable awkwardness.

You shifted closer together, but there was a timidness to you that caused Miranda to swallow her nerves and take the lead. The constable’s tone was gentle and loving and her hands tentative as she waited for permission before taking any liberties.

“Would you like to sit in my lap?” Miranda asked, her hands drifting gently over your thighs.

“Mhmm..” You hummed, crawling your way towards the blonde as the constable placed both of her hands on your sides. She brought you to rest in her lap, straddling her thighs.

In spite of her better instincts, Miranda allowed her hands to shift, stopping at the cusp of your ass. Her fingers swiped back and forth, enjoying the texture of your jeans against the pads of her fingers. You sucked in a breath, not expecting this level of manhandling from Miranda and shocked at how much you loved it.

“You’re very beautiful…” Miranda mumbled as the grip of her hands tightened and she pulled you against her, putting her mouth level at your neck and collarbone. Only if your damned turtleneck weren’t in the way. The constable’s hands trailed over your ass and up her back, her fingers slipping under your sweater and pausing, “Is this okay?”

“Yes.” You squeaked, the speedy pacing being a dramatic change from the blonde’s usual behavior.

“How about this?” Miranda asked as her hands moved higher, beginning to expose your midriff.

“Y-yes.” You stuttered, your arms beginning to lift away from the blonde’s shoulders to provide her with permission to remove your sweater.

The awareness that you being more undressed than she hit the blonde suddenly. The constable stopped, retracting her hands back to her own shirt, lifting it up over her head. She revealed a simple black bra to you.

You settled her hips down against the blonde’s thighs and leaned forward, pressing your lips to the blonde’s. The constable tossed her shirt to the side and began lifting your sweater once more. There was no need for the blonde to ask if her motions were okay as you broke your kiss to help lift the sweater up over your head.

You felt as if there was a faint glow to your chest that only burned brighter when the blonde’s mouth made contact with your neck. Between tastes and kisses, Miranda continued muttering how beautiful she found you to be. Your head was spinning, never had you experienced a sensation that felt as good as this. In order to ground yourself, you gripped the blonde’s shoulders, whimpering as you felt the blonde’s shoulder muscles bulge under your fingertips.

The constable felt insatiable as her lips drifted across your skin. Sinking to the swell of your breast, the blonde pressed a kiss to both of the mounds before gazing back up at you. “Is this okay? Do you want me to keep going or to slow down?”

“Keep… keep going, please.” You whined, your lips dipping back down to capture the blonde’s once more.

The kissing intensified as tongues swept against one another. Miranda went as far as softly chewing on your bottom lip causing you to shudder as a bolt of lightning coursed through your body. Arousal began pooling between your legs, instinct propelling you to push your hips down against Miranda’s thigh.

Miranda’s right hand kept splayed on your back while her left drifted around to the button of your pants. She was panting hard, the kisses taking her breath away, “Do… do you… want to, uh… take your pants off?”

You nodded frantically, pulling away before pressing a few more desperate kisses to Miranda’s lips. The suddenness of the kisses made the constable laugh, and the laughs only seemed to continue at the clumsiness as you attempted to maneuver the backseat as you removed your pants. Your own giggles mixed with the blonde’s as you moved around one another, Miranda focused on keeping you from hitting your head or falling off the back seat.

Through the darkness of the car, Miranda groaned at the faint sight of your underwear. The urges from deep inside the constable got the best of her, her strong hands holding you tight as she guided you to lay back against the cushion of the back seat. Wordlessly, the blonde took a more uncomfortable position with one knee pressing to the floor of the car as her other wedged itself between your legs.

In spite of her forceful movements, the blonde’s words were as gentle and caring as ever. “Is this okay? I’d love to touch you if you would let me.”

You whimpered in response, twisting your body as your hips searched for Miranda’s leg to grind against once more.

“I’m sorry, baby, but I need you to say it… I need you to tell me what you want.” Miranda couldn’t believe the way her voice turned sultry and apparently neither could you, seeing as you sucked in a breath at the command.

“I want you to touch me, please.” You begged, your voice hoarse as your mouth went completely dry. Since when was Miranda so dominating? And why on Earth was it so arousing?

Miranda wasn’t interested in teasing you, your inexperience brought a vulnerability that the constable wasn’t looking to exploit. Rather she slowly trailed a hand down your stomach, pausing at the waistband of your underwear to tuck her fingers under the elastic. Before fully pushing her hand in your underwear, she looked up at your face, studying the way your brow furrowed and lips shifted into a pout from your frustration.

“I love you.” Miranda cooed, tears pooling in her eyes as a sudden wave of nostalgia hit her. Never had she waited this long because she had loved someone so dearly. The constable couldn’t ask for a more perfect person to call her own and she found it to be an utter privilege to be given the opportunity to pleasure you.

“I love you, honey. Now, please…” You were beginning to feel impatient, your hips bucking against Miranda’s hand, pushing it deeper into your underwear. You hadn’t realized the semi-emotional moment from the constable, but the neediness of you brought the blonde back to the moment.

Following your soft trimmed bush, Miranda’s fingers found your slick heat and whimpered at how wet you were. The blonde’s fingers brushed over your clit causing you to suck in a breath. The constable decided to fully focus on your clit, knowing now was not the time for penetrative sex.

At the new sensation of Miranda teasing your bundle of nerves, you dropped her head against the blonde’s sternum and tried to stifle the moans that inched their way from your body. You mewled and clung to the blonde, your hips beginning to roll against the constable’s hand for more.

“Mir… Mir... Oh, Mir...” You called over and over as you unraveled in Miranda’s arms.

“I love the way you sound… I’ve been waiting for this. You are so perfect…” Miranda couldn’t get enough of the feeling of your wetness against her fingers. As she circled your clit, her mind drifted to how good you probably tasted, how beautiful you would look sprawled out on her bedsheets.

The sounds of your squeaks and whines filled the car, pushing the blonde to add pressure and work her fingers quicker. There was no possible way you could hold out any longer, your inexperience and anticipation bringing you an orgasm quicker than expected.

You pushed her face into Miranda’s chest, muffling your moan as the orgasm coursed through your body. Your hips bucked against the blonde’s fingers, both searching for stimulation and shifting away from it.

“Oh, baby…” The constable moaned at the sound and feeling of your orgasm, and withdrew her fingers from your underwear, not wanting to push the boundaries of overstimulation quite yet.

You soon began your own assault on the blonde’s neck and shoulders, hands squeezing at the constable’s shoulders and biceps, silently praising Miranda for her regular workout schedule. The fading elation of the orgasm you had experienced still had you on cloud nine and unable to hear Miranda trying to get her attention. “Oh, sweetie… The credits… The movie is over.”

You pulled your face away, eyes searching for the movie screen. “Oh…”

“Do you wanna stay at mine tonight?” The blonde breathed, sitting up in the backseat and pulling you up with her.

“Yes, please. I’d like to return the favor.”

—

On the front step of Miranda’s home, you were losing patience, your hands slipping around Miranda’s waist grasping for her belt buckle. The blonde chuckled and teased by pushing her ass back into you, her hands working diligently to unlock the front door. She opened the door and propped it open with her knee and manhandled you into her arms, lifting you so you could wrap your legs around Miranda’s waist.

“The couch or the bedroom?” Miranda purred, a strong hand cupping your ass while the other maneuvered in the door.

Your breath quivered at the return of Miranda’s brazenness. If this was the blonde’s intimate and sexual side, you were ready for more. The constable was always so gentle and sweet, almost to a fault. This physically dominating side could be something you could get used to.

“Bedroom…” You huffed, hands on the blonde’s neck as your thumbs stroked the constable’s jaw.

Swiftly, Miranda took you back to her bedroom, maintaining her hold on you as she crawled into bed. The blonde laid you on the bed and sat up to admire you beneath her. A mixture of nerves and excitement churned in the constable’s stomach as the thought of exploring your body in a comfortable place came to mind.

Miranda pulled her shirt from her body, followed by her bra, tossing both to the side to reveal herself to the woman she loved so much. You allowed her eyes to slowly drift over Miranda’s rosy nipples, mouth watering at the thought of taking one in your mouth. The blonde’s overzealousness hadn’t given you the opportunity to properly enjoy her body as the constable began tugging your shirt upwards.

In a flash, you grasped the blonde’s wrist, preventing her from seeing your body in the light. There was something so nerve wracking and painfully vulnerable about exposing yourself to her outside the confines of her darkened car.

Miranda took your hesitancy as a sign of her own rushing of the physical relationship. “I’m sorry… Do you want to stop?”

“No, it’s just…” Your hands tightened around the hem of your sweater, the anxiety of Miranda not liking your form was overpowering.

“I understand if you don’t want me to see, but I’d feel so privileged to see you… to touch you…”

As always, the blonde’s words were incredibly genuine and loving, so much so that you couldn’t help but trust her. You moved her hands away from the sweater and lifted them above your head, giving the constable permission to undress you. You squeezed her eyes shut, unable to bear what negativite reaction the blonde might have when she realized you weren't as perfect as she thought.

Miranda moved slowly, her hands loving the softness of your skin. With some shifting from you, the blonde was able to lift the fabric up over your head, followed by you removing your bra, exposing your body fully. Miranda couldn’t help it when her breath caught, overwhelmed by how beautiful you were.

“I knew you were beautiful… but… oh my god…”

Shock and awe.

That’s what Miranda felt about your beautiful form.

Your hands now covered her face, fearful of Miranda’s face betraying her loving tone. What you couldn’t see was the blonde on the brink of tears, overwhelmed with the divine presence of your exposed form. She blinked away the tears, “God, you… You’re so, so beautiful…”

Rather than trying to convince you of your beauty with more words, the constable took to showing you how beautiful she found you to be. She started at your bellybutton and slowly worked her way up, occasionally poking her tongue from her lips and licking your sweet flesh. She made her way to your sternum and continued her worship, lips finding every mark and scar available.

As her mouth worked diligently to kiss every square inch of your body, Miranda’s hands kneaded at your breasts, delighted with how perfectly they fit in the blonde’s hands.

The tenseness brought on by your nerves slowly dissipated as it was evident your body wasn’t deterring Miranda anytime soon. After a short while, you relaxed into the bed and allowed herself to enjoy the constable’s touch. Your skin felt as if it had a glow wherever Miranda’s touched you, bringing a smile to your face. The same slow process of gaining consent followed by body worship occurred after Miranda’s drifted her attention down to your jeans. This time you felt much more prepared to give herself fully to the constable.

Hours could have passed, neither of you had a concept of how much time had passed, but you both felt buzzed from the intensity. Your breathing was labored as your body ached for another release and Miranda was desperate for a single orgasm. Both of you were needy in the way that you needed to be rapt in one another’s embrace.

“Maybe we could- Would you like to try something?” Miranda asked, her mind finding a solution to her little dilemma.

“Okay.”

Minutes later, Miranda had retrieved a vibrator from her bedside drawer and maneuvered your legs to intersect with Miranda’s, making you look like you were about to scissor. Miranda held the vibrator between your cunts with one hand, and brought the other around your back to keep you close. Uour hands held the blonde’s thighs in a vice grip, the jolting of the vibe against your clit driving you wild. You turned your gaze up to Miranda and were mesmerized by the way the constable was unraveling before you. The blonde’s eyes were squeezed shut and her chest was heaving, causing her breasts to rise and fall in the most wonderful way.

You dipped her head to meet the constable’s breast, humming when the taste of her skin was tangy with sweat. Her nipple was so perfectly textured and shaped that you sucked it slow, releasing it with a popping noise before putting it back in your mouth.

All of it was too much for Miranda, between you moaning around her nipple and your perfect body pressed up against her own, the constable found it impossible to last. She quivered and shook from her orgasm, drawing you in close as she came. You fought hard to come afterwards, your hips bucking and writhing against the vibrator.

You came with a loud groan, your hips falling away from Miranda’s to allow herself reprieve.

Flicking the vibrator into the off position, Miranda discarded the sex toy onto the bedside table, turned off the lights with the remote, and settled into bed next to you. Miranda’s frame curled around your smaller one, your limbs quickly becoming intertwined.

“Thank you.” Miranda mumbled, her hand softly tracing circles into your stomach.

You hushed the constable, your body twisting towards Miranda’s so that you could snuggle in close (hopefully so that you could fall asleep hugging the blonde). “There is no need for that. You are the most wonderful partner I could ask for. I’m happy we could share this experience together.”

“I love you...”

“I love you.”

#gwendoline christie #gwen christie #miranda hilmarson smut #miranda hilmarson x reader #miranda hilmarson #top of the lake #smut #oneshot

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