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spicy-picklez · 1 year

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Hiya! Can I request a Miranda x reader? Reader is a new detective in the precinct and reader and Miranda get partnered up for a case. Reader seems quiet when she’s not working but she kind of gets serious, Sherlock-style when working and Miranda finds it attractive. Reader is quite oblivious and is confused because Miranda would look away from her, blushing when she’s voicing out her observations. It takes a fellow detective pointing out how smitten Miranda is with her for reader to notice and she confesses that she likes her too. Tnx!

Hey Anon!

Thank you so much for this request, it is going to have multiple parts because I got rather carried away and I still have so many more ideas for this. Hope you like it!

-Picklez

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Unconfessed Feelings

Includes:

Dead body, talk of murder, mentions of gang activity,

Characters:

Miranda Hilmarson x fem!detective!colleague!reader

Summary:

It's your first day at your new precinct and the partner you've been assigned is simply magnetic. Neither of you can stop your thoughts from wandering as the two of you try to solve the murder and potential kidnapping of 28 year old Sophie Brown.

Word Count:

3.8k

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“Alright everyone, settle down.” Detective Sergeant Adrian Parker stands behind his podium, his voice booming around the debriefing room as the chatter dies down. “Thank you, ok. Today is a great day for our precinct, we have a new detective joining us. Detective Y/L/N has the highest close rate for her cases out of her entire last precinct and I hope you all make her feel welcome.” At this, you step out from the corner of the room you’ve been hiding in, giving a small wave to the other detectives and constables.

One constable in particular caught your eye. Not only because of her tall stature but because of her eagerness, leaning forwards, placing her elbows on the table as she watches you with an excited expression. Her gorgeous blue eyes glowed with genuine curiosity as they peek out from underneath her short blonde hair. You were at the centre of her attention, it’s not often the precinct gets a new detective and certainly not one that captivated her interests so easily. Dressed in black pants and a black blazer, your light blue undershirt is tucked into the waistband of your belted pants. Her eyes can’t help but travel down your body, admiring the way your shirt curved over your breasts and outlined your figure.

Taking a seat, you lean your forearms on the edge of the table as Adrian gives out case assignments. “Y/L/N, there’s been a body found in the trunk of an abandoned car. I’m giving you control of the case, take Hilmarson with you.” You nod, watching as the constable from before sits up, excitement coursing through her veins. Adrian places the case file in front of you as he continues to hand out assignments. Flipping through the pages, your eyes are immediately drawn to the photo of the car. You couldn’t be sure until you saw it in person but if what you noticed was right, you knew who the car belonged to.

“Dismissed.” Adrian’s voice pulls you back to reality. Standing up, you’re met with the tall figure of Constable Hilmarson. Excitement twists her features into an eager grin. “Hi, I’m Miranda Hilmarson, I’m assigned to help you with your case.” You smile, she looks even more enticing up close. “Y/N Y/L/N, nice to meet you.”

The duration of the car ride to the crime scene was spent conversing with Miranda. While most of the conversation was the two of you bouncing theories about the case off of each other, you had also learned a lot about each other. Parking the car, the two of you step out, ducking under the yellow police tape as you make your way to the car. The boot was popped open, revealing a mangled body sitting in a pool of blood. The amount of flies and the horrible smell told you that the body had been there for a while. Taking a closer look, you can see foam filled blood trickling from the victim’s nose and mouth. “Foamy blood from the mouth and nose, no rigor mortis, incredibly dark livor mortis, I’d say our poor vic has been dead for about 4-5 days.” You say, taking in notes of the corpse’s appearance as Miranda watches you work with pure fascination.

Pulling on a pair of gloves, you examine the wounds marking the corpse’s skin. Multiple gashes covered her body but what you're interested in is under her hair. Lifting the strands of her black hair, clamped together with dry blood, you see a bullet wound just behind her ear, angled upwards. An overwhelming sense of dread fills your veins as you see it, only the most skilled of gunmen could get such a perfect shot. Bending down, your hand reaches under the bumper of the car. “What are you doing?” Curiosity is evident in Miranda’s voice as she watches you lie down on the ground, sliding yourself under the car. Taped to the inside of the bumper was what confirmed your hunch. Ripping off the black coin, you pull yourself back out from under the car, blood on your blazer from the liquid seeping through the bottom of the trunk.

“Serbian Mafia.” You say, holding up the black coin, engraved with their symbol. Dropping it into an evidence bag, you continue with your explanation. “I thought I recognised the car when I saw the photo. 2005 black Holden Monaro, equipped with a 5,030 cc Chevrolet sourced V8 engine. There were only 580 Monaros made in 2005, even less of them black so it’s hard to miss them. I worked on a previous case where the Serbian Mafia were involved, again, it involved a black 2005 Holden Monaro identical to this one.”

Miranda's attention to you is unwavering, feeling her cheeks flush with heat as she watches you work. Your attention to detail and willingness to involve her in your work only made her more attracted to you. Due to her appearance and bubbly personality, others had held her at arm's length, often lashing out at her when something went wrong. You, however, include Miranda in the case as an equal despite only knowing her for all of an hour. Realising she's been staring, she clears her throat, her hand rubbing the inside of her wrist to ground herself.

"Right so if it is a member, how do we get them to talk? Or even find them in the first place? I doubt they'd be willing to come down to the station." Miranda asks, trying to regain her composure. Sucking your lip into your mouth in thought, dread fills your veins knowing what your next plan of action is. "We go to their bar. They meet there every night and we'll try to see what we can find out. For now, we'll go see the victim's family and find out what they know… do we have an ID on her yet?"

"Hey, I'm Lucas Darnell, forensic scientist. The vic's name is Sophie Brown, 28 year old vet nurse from Brisbane." Lucas says, passing you a sheet of paper as he does. Looking over her photo, a twinge of sadness hits you as you see her laughing with presumably her husband and kids. "What are you doing so far from home Sophie?" You murmur, reading through the details on her paper. A strong presence comes behind you as Miranda bends down to look over your shoulder at the paper. The faint scent of cigarettes covered by her deodorant fills your nose as she does.

"Sweet woman. Who'd do something like this to her?" She says, as your heart rate increases at having her so close to you. Her scent and her presence behind you is enticing, you never want her to leave. Trailing your finger down the paper, her brother catches your attention. "Does her brother sound familiar to you? James Brown. Known criminal, just got out of jail a month ago for armed robbery. Maybe he's done something to the wrong people and this is their way of payback?"

Miranda nods as you say this, not really listening to your words as she realises how close she is behind you. Feeling the warmth radiating off your body, she breathes in your perfume, enjoying the subtle vanilla scent. “Miranda?” Your voice brings her back to reality. “Hmm? Sorry.” She says, her breath warm against your skin. “Did you want to try to get a hold of her family? We need to figure out why she’s so far away from Brisbane.”

Taking a step back, she regains her composure as she exhales sharply. “Right, yes. Of course. Sorry.” She quickly says, heat rising over her cheeks as she walks off. A small smile appears on your lips as she does, watching her as she nearly trips over Lucas who’s swabbing the car’s steering wheel for DNA. Turning back to Sophie’s body, you notice a small mark on the inside of her wrist. A small M is branded onto her skin. Running your fingers over the bumps, you call Lucas over. “How much do you know about brands?”

You move over as he leans forward to get a closer look. “I’ve seen it before. M is the brand the Serbian Mafia gives to those they use as blackmail. The last time I saw it, I was a new employee at the precinct. The victim was the husband of a rival gang member. He was kidnapped and branded, the photo was sent to the wife along with a threatening message. He was found dead the next day.” This sparks your interest. If your theory is correct and it is to do with the brother, it means that you need to speak to James.

Searching around the scene, you see Miranda leaning against a police vehicle, one hand in her pocket as the other holds her phone to her ear. She shakes her head, hanging up the call as you come over. “James has been missing for the past week and Sophie's husband, Ray, set up a missing person report for her 5 days ago. The last time anyone saw her was 1.39am Saturday morning. She disappeared with a hooded guy while out in town for her friend’s birthday.”

“A hooded guy? Like her brother? A lover? Gang member?” You ask, new possible theories popping up in your head. Miranda shrugs as she responds. “That’s all I could find out. I’ve put out an APB for James and have got the police on their way to contact Sophie’s friends and family to see what they can find out.”

“Ah you’re incredible, thank you. I just need to check out one more thing before we should start getting ready for the bar.” You say as Miranda blushes at your words. The single compliment means everything to the constable, butterflies crowding her stomach. “Alright, what were you wanting to check out?” She falls into step with you as you duck back under the police tape. “The car. It’s been abandoned and clearly belongs to the Serbian Mafia so I wouldn’t be surprised if it has fake plates. But, I want to see if anyone’s put anything out about it.”

Pulling out your phone, you search up the plate number. “Yep. Fake plates. These ones are registered to a silver Nissan Note.” Your breath hitches as you see the owner’s name. “Hold on… it belongs to Mrs Margaret Brown. It can’t be a coincidence that the last names are the same.” A soft smile pulls at Miranda’s lips as she watches you emerge in your thoughts, mumbling theories out loud as each one pops into your head. Checking her watch, she brings you back to reality. “Right, so… it’s 6pm. We can either stay here creating theories all night or we can go mix in with the Serbian Mafia. Pick your poison detective.” She grins as a small chuckle escapes you at her enthusiasm. “Of course, sorry. I get rather carried away when I’m working. We should get ready.” You say, the two of you walking towards the car.

“It’s ok, I think your determination when working is rather cu- inspiring.” She catches herself before completing her sentence as heat rises on her cheeks yet again. Getting into the car, she rubs her sweaty palms on the fabric of her pants. You grin. “Well thank you.” Turning on the car, the two of you exchange eager conversation until you pull into her apartment complex carpark. “I’ll pick you up at 7.30.” You say, giving her a cheeky grin. “I look forward to it.”

Getting back to your apartment, you quickly jump in the shower, lathering your hair with shampoo and conditioner in turn. Washing your hair out, you turn the shower off as you wrap a towel around yourself. You glance at the time as you run a brush through your hair, pulling it up out of your face. 6.43pm. Right, 45 minutes to apply makeup, find an outfit and drive to Miranda’s. Pulling out your makeup, you place it on the edge of the sink, quickly rubbing primer onto your skin. Twenty minutes later, you rummage through your wardrobe desperately trying to find something to wear. Eventually you decide on a white low cut tank top and ripped, black, denim jeans. Grabbing a leather jacket, you pull it over your shoulders as you grab your keys and exit your apartment.

“Well, don’t you look gorgeous?” Miranda says, opening up the car door. A grin pulls at your lips as you respond. “I could say the same to you.” Miranda had traded her police uniform for light blue jeans, a black shirt with lace sleeves tucked into her waistband. The familiar red blush spreads over her cheeks. “I-... Thank you. I don’t really wear this often.” You nod, a genuine smile pulling at both of your faces as you reverse out of the park. “So… you ready to meet the Serbian Mafia?” The look she gives you is priceless. “Absolutely not.” You can’t help the chuckle escaping you at her response.

The duration of the car ride is spent full of eager conversation between the two of you. Both of you are pinging off each other, your energy sky-rocketing as you talk about anything and everything. Turning into the car park, you grin as you see the bar’s owner Marco talking with a group of people outside. “SEND IT COBRA!” Giving you a wave, he calls out across the carpark. “Cobra?” Miranda asks, confusion evident in her voice. “Hold on to something.” You say as a grin pulls at your lips. Putting your Commodore into first gear, you depress the clutch and begin revving the engine. She didn’t have time to respond before you lock your handbrake and release the clutch, the smell of burning rubber filling your nose as your tires spin beneath you. The sound of your wheels squealing echoes through the carpark as Marco cheers you on. Miranda’s eyes are wide, grasping onto the door handle as you pull the car into a donut, avoiding the parked cars with ease.

As she realises you know what you’re doing, Miranda relaxes her white knuckled grip and a grin pulls at her lips, an excited whoop escaping her. Flinging the back end of your car around, you switch directions, tyres still squealing as smoke flies from them. You bring your car back under control, pulling calmly into an empty parking space with a grin spreading across your face. Looking over at Miranda, she has the same grin on her face, her chest rising heavily with each adrenaline filled breath. “I do apologise, I was going to tell you about me doing that then I decided against it, I wanted to see your reaction.” An excited laugh escapes her, her face lighting up with joy. “Y/N, you little minx.”

Opening up the door to your car, you give her a cheeky wink. “Don’t act like you don’t love it.” Her cheeks burn with an all too familiar blush as you say this. “Yo Cobra! That was sick!” Marco’s Italian accent fills your ears as he comes up to bring you into a hug. “Marco, my bro!” You heartily slap him on the back of the shoulder as the hug breaks away. “Miranda, this is my childhood mate Marco. Marco, meet Miranda.”

“Hey, nice to meet you.” Miranda says, offering her hand out to Marco which he shakes. “You too, any mate of Cobra’s is a mate of mine.” Scanning your gaze over the carpark, you remember what you’re here to do as a black Harley-Davidson Breakout catches your eye. The Serbian Mafia symbol is engraved in the back. “Hey, Marco. We’ll catch up with you later, we’re actually here for work.” You say as Marco nods. “I’ll see you later Cobra, be careful in there.” Falling into step with Miranda, the two of you walk across the carpark, your eyes still hooked on the bike.

“So where did the nickname Cobra come from?” Curiosity is evident in Miranda’s voice as she asks this, making you grin. Stopping in your tracks, you bend down to roll up your jeans on your left leg. Halfway up your calf are two fang marks and a gasp escapes her as she sees them. “When Marco and I were in our early twenties, we decided to take a trip to Thailand. I was young and dumb, and thought it’d be funny to go bush-bashing in the middle of the night. Accidentally stood on a monocled cobra and suddenly it wasn’t so funny after that. Lucky for me, there was no envenomation and I lived to tell the tale. He’s called me Cobra since then.”

“Jesus christ Y/N.” She says, as you walk into the pub, loud cheers and bottles clinking sound from the corner. Walking up to the bar, you pull out your card. “Smirnoff Double Black please.” You say, turning to Miranda for her drink choice. “I’ll have a Heineken.” She says, beginning to pull out her credit card before you stop her. “My shout.” You say, holding your card out to Paywave it. “Thank you.” She puts her card back in her pocket, grateful that the dimmer lighting hides the blush on her cheeks. She can’t help it, never before has she been so easily flustered. Whenever she’s around you, however, she gets butterflies in her stomach, a constant blush over her cheeks.

Grabbing your drinks, you walk over to a table in the corner, pulling out the stools for both of you as your eyes scan over the room. Your attention is caught on the group of men drunkenly playing darts opposite you. Heavily tattooed and wearing biker jackets, you weren’t quite able to read their patches but you knew to keep watch on them. “Don’t make it obvious what you’re doing, but those six men behind you playing darts? Can you make out any of their patches?” You say under your breath as Miranda pretends to drop her wallet on the ground. Bending down, she looks back before sitting back up moments later shaking her head. “None of them look like they’re our guys but still keep an eye on them.” You nod, taking a sip from your bottle as a loud cheer sounds from the pool table. “Skivvy run! Skivvy run! Skivvy run! Skivvy run!” The group starts chanting, slamming their fists down on the table as they pull the loser to the middle of the room.

A grin spreads over both of your faces as the two of you join in, banging your fists on the table as you chant. By the time the man took off his clothes, the entire bar was chanting along with drunken words. Cheering and wolf-whistles sound amongst applause as he strips down to his underwear. Taking a deep breath, he runs out the door whooping in his underpants through the car park as both you and Miranda start laughing. Shaking her head, she catches your eye which only makes the two of you laugh harder. “Don’t miss that.” You grin, watching as he comes back in panting, bending over to lean his hands on his knees. “You’ve done a skivvy run before?” She says, an all too familiar heat spreading through her as she imagines you in your underwear running down the street. You nod, laughing at the many memories of it. “Oh I’ve done a lot more than I’d care to admit… you?” Sticking her lower lip out, she shakes her head. “Nah, can’t say I have.”

A mischievous glint appears in your eyes as you hear this. “Ooh okay, when we’re not working, we’re going out drinking and you’re doing your first skivvy run.” Her mouth hangs agape as a breath sharply escapes her in shock. “And what makes you think I’d want to do that?” She asks, taking a drink from her beer as you grin. “Because I know you’d always be down for a fun time. Besides, you haven’t lived if you haven’t done a skivvy run at least once.” Your grin dies down as you see the bathroom doors open and a middle aged man in a biker’s jacket walks out, one of his patches catching your eye. “I think I found the owner of the bike outside.” You say, nodding your head in his direction for Miranda to look. Turning her head, she nods as she sees the same symbol on his patches.

Standing up from your seat, you down the rest of your drink as she does the same. Quickly making your way through the crowd, you approach your suspect who’s now sitting at a table in the corner, eyes hooked on the TV screen. “Excuse me, sir? Detective Y/L/N, Sydney Police, this is my partner, Constable Hilmarson. We just want to ask you a few questions regarding a body found in the back of an abandoned car.” You say, opening your jacket slightly to reveal your police badge hanging from the inside pocket. His face remains expressionless as his eyes slowly move down to your badge before looking up at you. “Thomas Parkes, and you assume because of my patch that I’m involved? I’m just here to enjoy a few drinks and the game detective. I’m not looking for any trouble.”

“Neither are we Thomas. Which is why we just want to ask a few questions. If you’re innocent, you have nothing to worry about and will be able to return to your drinks and the game.” Miranda says, as his attention turns to her. Picking up his beer, he takes a sip, contemplating his choices. He nods as he returns his drink to the table, swallowing the liquid. “Alright.” Relief floods your veins at the single word uttered from his mouth. “Thank you, sir. Please come with us.” Miranda falls behind him, keeping an eye on his actions as he follows you outside. Finding a quiet place in the corner of the car park, you pull out your voice recorder. “Sir, can you please state your name and number in case we need to contact you with further questions?”

Sighing, you lean forward in your seat, resting your elbows on the table as you cradle your head in your hands. “So… that was useless.” You say as Miranda nods, taking a swig from her newly opened beer as the two of you sit defeated in the corner of the pub. Thomas, so far, isn’t your guy. He had an iron-clad alibi, sober driving his wife home from town the night Sophie went missing and claimed he didn’t know anything about the Brown family. “Only one thing we can do now, given this time of night.” You say, taking a sip from your Smirnoff before putting it back down on the wooden table as Miranda looks at you to continue. A smile pulls at both of your lips as you say your next word. “Drink.”

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A/N: Me? Know how to skid? Pssshhh never, I'm a good girl. *Is about to head out for a night of skids even though the last time I went for skids was last week and the car caught fire and I was trapped in the back over the gas tank with the door being melded shut by the heat.*

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#miranda hilmarson #constable #top of the lake #woman x woman

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