#also am i the only one who finds her so effing attractive when she smoke?

[billiedeansbitch]

𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

(𝐌𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐇𝐢𝐥𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

a/n: this was supposed to be a wholesome fic but uh my brain got a little too carried away... anyway here's some smutty goodness.

warning/s: NSFW. SMUTT! public sex.

Miranda was in the break room, taking off the top of the cupcake just to put it back upside down, "It's a sandwich!" she defended when Robin was giving her a dirty look.

A sandwich.  A sandwich seemed delicious.  Should she have gotten a sandwich instead?

From across the room, you watched her shrug and took a hefty bite of the cupcake, leaving only a tiny portion. It amazed you how she wasn't choking.

When Griffin left the room, you sauntered toward the constable and tapped her shoulder, "Come quick"

She furrowed her brows, "Where?" and munched on whatever was left of the chocolate cupcake before dusting off her palms.

"Outside" Quickly, she was behind you exiting the room. Miranda indulged the way your hips swayed while you walk. Heat crept her face, extending down her throat and tip of her ears.

"Why?" she followed up, trying to at least not be distracted. "I want to watch you smoke" Still confused, she agreed nonetheless. However weird, Miranda would do anything you asked of her if it meant spending time with you.

When you both reached the parking, you sat on the makeshift chair from an old car seat. Miranda got into business and lit a cigarette.

She had long, slender fingers, you noted. Clean, and well groomed. No ring...

"What's happening? Are you okay?" Your eyes flutter back to her face.

You looked down, unable to meet her eyes as you said the words, "What's the deal?" you paused briefly, giving yourself some time to think if this was the right time and place to confront her. Decided, you continued, "With you and Robin."

"Griffin?" Miranda was genuinely perplexed. Why were you asking her about her partner?

Quietly you mumbled, "Yeah, her."

Miranda shifted, flicking the ash from the tip of the stick, "My colleague. We work on a case together. Personally? She's a friend as far as I know. We hang out every once in a while. Why? What is this all about?"

She wasn't sure why she was answering these things, but when the visible frown lessened on your gorgeous face, she knew it had something to do with her. What had she done to upset you now? 

Did you assume the worst? Probably. "Just friends?" you asked again, wanting to confirm it the second time because the first wasn't just enough. 

You had seen the way the blonde spoke to the short detective, the physical closeness and affection in their eyes. How they appear to perfectly perceive one another's thoughts without verbalizing them. 

"Yeah—yes." she nodded, "Wait, are you jealous?" Miranda, who had just connected the imaginable dots in her head, had finally come to her own conclusion.  

It suddenly made you feel abashed, your true feelings exposed to the constable. You couldn’t take that back now. 

"You're jealous.” It irked you to hear how right she was.

“Why are you jealous? Did you think I was fucking her?" Hilmarson, who was simultaneously bewildered and amused, couldn’t keep the fucking grin from showing up, so she bit her lower lip in an attempt to dial down her excitement at the prospect of you reciprocating her unconfessed feelings.

The abruptness when you stood up stilled the breath in her throat. You walked up to her, pulled her toward the far corner where it gave you two some privacy and successfully pinned her on the wall, and pulled her face down to kiss her.

"You are fucking clueless how much I want you, don't you?" 

From the brief time you both stopped assaulting each other’s lips, she took it as an opportunity to catch her breath. She had her eyes closed, hands firmly cupping the back of your head keeping you close, her forehead pressed flat on your own. She didn’t exactly think she would get to kiss you the exact moment you confessed to her, let alone initiate this.

The kiss was brutal, none too soft. You both fought. Real hard. Bruising each other’s lips. 

The second time it happened, the taller woman initiated it. She grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your head back, it caused a mix of pleasure and pain to surge in your core that pushed the nastiest of moans from your gaping lips. 

Miranda felt herself getting wet.

She grabbed your jaw while her lips worked toward your ear, "I fuck you in my head every night before I sleep and touch myself to the thought of you." 

Your body arched toward hers in response, "good to know.” 

The images of her, inserting those long luscious fingers into her own cunt while she whispers your name made your own fingers desperate feel her juices. 

Neither of you had the luxury of rationalizing things at the moment, you were far too deep in lust and she was far too wet to care. You both needed each other.

Her lips descended to your neck. Hands groping both of your breasts.

You unbuttoned her pants, pulled the shirt up and stopped to look at her in the eyes. God, her eyes were lust-blown, so beautiful and hungry.

“Do it.” She said, surging to kiss your lips once again.

While both of her hands were busy indulging the softness of your breasts, your own fingers worked between her thighs, doing long languid strokes. 

"Fuck,” she breathed against your skin, “If you're going to do it. just do it." she growled.

With a taunting smile, you pecked her cheek, "a little impatient now, aren't you?" and you bit her earlobe the same time you plunged a finger into her dripping cunt. Her body jolted, hands flying to your shoulders to steady herself. It didn’t last long until you pushed another finger making her bite the junction of your neck and shoulder to stifle her moans.

It was short but blissful. She came in just a couple of angry thrusts while your thumb moved deftly to play with her clit adding more stimulation causing her to cum.

When she finished, her arousal that coated your fingers was licked clean. She watched you savour her taste before you offer your tongue to her which she gladly sucked. 

Shortly, after fixing both of your appearances, the elevator dinged which meant someone was coming.

You weren’t surprised to see the small detective awkwardly making her way toward the constable. She stopped when she was close, “Detective,” she said, acknowledging you.

“Detective Griffin.” You retorted.

The tall woman painfully watched the awkward exchange.

You looked at Miranda, your hands tucked in your back pockets. “I’ll see you later.” 

“Okay.” She watched you leave for the elevator. Once you were in, she gave you a small wave. Which to you was pathetically adorable.

“What were you two doing here?” Griffin asked, intently watching her partner whose cheeks were flushed and hair was unkempt.

“Nothing...Just talking.”

“Is that a hickey on your neck?”

“Crap! where? is it too obvious?

Robbin smiled, smug after confirming her suspicions were true, "There's none. You panicked and asked instantly which means before I was here you two were screwing up." She said a matter of factly.

Miranda, who was guilty, kept rubbing the sides of her neck. Her eyes narrowed at the small woman, “What did you need me for?" And oh boy, she was grumpy.

"I found some lead on the case. We’re going to investigate now.”

Griffin casually said before she followed it by, “So, since when has this been going on?" 

"Oh we're not going to talk about this, Griffin."

But later on, in the car, Miranda could not stop talking about how much she fancied you, and just then, Robbin knew she made a terrible mistake bugging her about you.

#this is my first miranda fic so be nice #miranda hilmarson #miranda hilmarson x reader #miranda hilmarson imagines #gwendoline christie imagines #gwendoline christie #also am i the only one who finds her so effing attractive when she smoke? #smoking is bad but why so hot? #top of the lake #sweet confession